look down

Looking down is usually associated with submission, with buckling under, caving in, and giving up. We're encouraged to look up, look around, look at, look in the eye, be alert. I usually try to do that on the farm, checking on things and looking for critters. Today, though, I chose to look down. And what treasures I found.

Looking down slows your stride. You don't make good time. You don't engage other people, you engage the earth. The rocks, the dirt, the insignificant things we seem to think we are meant to step on.

Having spent several days tilling and planting, I decided to go for a walk. Puppy was rather happy at the idea, too. 

OH BOY OH BOY OH BOY WALK TIME

No agenda (except a faint hope of finding wild mushrooms, which still elude me), just a walk. Utterly unproductive and absolutely wonderful. Looking down. 

I found flowers.

Marsh primrose

Violets?

Even this flower was looking down.

I found sedum? Really? I thought that was a garden-only plant. Maybe it escaped from a garden into the wild to become feral sedum. It seemed to be making friends with the horsetails.

"I'm freeeeeeeeeee!"

I found a chunk of quartz with reflective parts that caught the light.

I found baby ferns unfolding their curled ends.

I did look up, and marvelled at the size of the cedar trees here.

Seriously, that's a huge tree.

Then I saw this tree that has decided it wants to be its own tree and grow in whatever direction it wants. Straight up is too mainstream.

I DO WHAT I WANT

I looked up when we flushed a mallard pair and a blue heron. They flew away, annoyed with me. I apologized.

I noticed Titus sniffing at something. He almost always looks down. And I saw... metal gear teeth? So I found a thing. And I assume it's to do with a tractor or something, but I really have no idea. It's currently called "this thing I found".

Next time I'm out, it's back to work. Gardening is nice for that, though. It encourages looking down too. As I churned up the field to make a new plot, I sifted the soil through my hands and wondered who'd last worked it. Then I sat down and thought some more. I am seriously not the most productive farmer anywhere.

transition

End of an era, and all that.

As of June, I will be done homeschooling. The journey that began when R turned four and we debated about her education, deciding to "try it for a year", is ending some fourteen years later. M, the youngest of the three, will be entering high school in the fall.

I feel like I should write some sort of retrospective, but how does one distil so many years of learning into mere words? Once again, words alone prove hollow. But it being me, I'll try.

2008 school day

When I began I looked at women who had been teaching their kids for five or six years and I considered them sages of educational wisdom. They had taught so much, multiple subjects, while I was on my first steps of doing flash-card phonics and teaching math using plastic counters. They must know it all. They had seen to many different facets of learning. When I reached that point myself, I wondered if they really had known everything - because I sure didn't. 
I then got terrified when I realized some moms who were starting their homeschool journey seemed to look at me as I'd looked at those women. I figured they'd find me out. Perhaps they did, perhaps not. Unless they read this, I suppose. Hm.

Each phase of learning, and each student, brought new twists and turns. And rather than a closed-in maze that gave me claustrophobia, the twists and turns made it feel like winding path that meandered through new and varied scenery. Not to say I didn't have days (weeks?) of metaphorically bashing my head on a wall. Each phase also brought its own challenges. When child #1 and child #2 learn very differently, you think you've got it figured out until child #3 comes along and blows all of those tidy ideas out of the water.

I learned about my own limitations - and I learned some talents, too. I learned about learning styles. I learned about trying to quantify our learning for the people who asked, "what do you do all day?" I learned that socialization doesn't require a classroom or a playground. I learned the joy of seeing a child who has worked, struggled through something suddenly have it click - and the light bulb comes on. It's incredible. I worked through projects with them and saw them overcome nervousness to present their work to groups. I shared my love of learning and, I hope, instilled some of it in them. I tried to show them as we learned some things together that really, you should never, ever stop learning.

I learned about ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia and Greece and Rome and the Middle Ages and Genghis Khan and mommy did you know that this shark eats these fish and mommy what is the name of that bird and why do we say "won't" instead of "willn't" and why do I have to do all this math and Bible and Latin and Greek and reading books and science and mommy look look at this turtle skeleton I found IT IS THE COOLEST THING EVER.

So while our days will look very different, it's the right time for us. I always said homeschooling may not be for every family, but it's been a huge blessing for us. I stand by that, even as I bid it a fond farewell.

changes

I am now the mother of three teen girls. Well, I have been for a while, but became aware recently of a shift in my perspective.

Boyfriends are not in the picture, but there are names mentioned by each of the girls more often than others. Who is he? I think. What's his character? His family? What are his plans for the future? Would he suit our daughter?

And then I realize...

... I am becoming Mrs Bennet. 

daring kitchen, february

This month's challenge made my kitchen burst into song. Literally.

Spanakopita. When D or the girls asked what I was making and this was my answer, I either got the word put into The Lion King's "Hakuna Matata" or Iron Butterfly's "In A Gadda Da Vita". Which made for a loud, but fun, cooking experience.

The February Daring Cooks' Challenge was hosted by Audax of Audax Artifex. The challenge brought us to Greece with a delicious, flaky spanakopita - a spinach pie in a phyllo pastry shell.

I've made spanakopita filling before for little appetizers, in puff pastry spirals or bite-sized phyllo packages. I wondered if a whole pie would be too much in such a large serving, but followed a slightly adapted version of Audax's recipe and tried it anyway. The recipe, for an authentic Greek spanakopita, looked wonderful and really the only reason for any changes was based on a careful scientific analysis I call "what's in my fridge?".

First, the greens. Spanakopita is basically spinach pie. While I have access to fresh or frozen spinach, I also had in my freezer a couple of pounds of beet greens from the garden. I had blanched, chopped, and frozen them last fall in my hope of using the whole plant - and this was a great opportunity. The thawed greens were tossed with chopped onion and shallot (I didn't have the leeks the recipe called for, but I love leeks and will try adding them next time), olive oil, dill, garlic, and nutmeg. And feta, of course feta.

Side note: nutmeg is such an unsung hero. I've just been realizing this in the last few years. It's the thing I'll add at the last minute to give food that "hmm, what IS that?" taste. Sauces love it. So when I saw it in the recipe as an option, I made sure to include it.

Then things got messy. This mix was kneaded and squished in the bowl to mix it all together and compress it. This was the most unpleasant part of the process, since the just-thawed greens and refrigerated feta made my hands very cold. However, I'd never make it again without this step. The resulting texture was perfect. Next time I'll let things warm up a bit first.

Then, another funny step - squeezing handfuls of the mixture to get out the excess moisture, then using bread crumbs to soak this liquid up before re-adding it to the filling. Cold hands didn't like this either but again - I won't argue with the end result. An egg added and also mixed in finished off this part.

The pan was lined with phyllo layered with melted butter. Layer and paint, layer and paint. The filling added, some more phyllo and butter on top, the dough cut into pieces, and it was ready to put in the oven. An hour later, the house smelling warm and savoury, we got to try it.

We all loved it. While agreeing that using all beet greens likely made for a stronger taste, it was a huge success. Next time (and there will be several next times) I will try either all spinach, or half spinach and half beet green. 

It's a great way to get a lot of greens into one meal, and the flavour and texture are wonderful. We enjoyed it for supper, lunch the next day, and even little bites of it cold were delicious. It would make a great picnic addition. Another great thing about this is the make-ahead factor. The filling, once made, can be refrigerated. The whole pie, once made, can be frozen. A little longer in the kitchen, and you've got the one for now and one for later. Thanks, Audax!

yes i did finish

I didn't blog each of the thirty days toward my goal, but: I did it! 

 The farm's projects for the year have been shortlisted. A few more details to come, but we've narrowed things down. It's nice to already know what's doable and in these short, cold days, the thought of getting my hands into cool soil again is heartening.

We're increasing last year's field garden by about 50%, most of which I tilled last fall. In addition, I'm going to break ground on the far side of the same field for another field garden. That field will have two large garden plots, with the chickens in between in their mobile pasture. The whole field will, for the first time in who-knows-how-many-years, be in use producing food. With more space out there, the smaller garden closer to the house will become a home mainly for herbs and baby greens.

Planning like this has let me think more practically. The garden farthest from the house will have things like winter squash and potatoes that don't need as much frequent attention. We're going to plant a couple of rows of corn along the north side of the lawn. Why? Two reasons: lawns are, food-wise, wasted space, and a narrow strip of corn won't cut into our use of it. Second, once the corn is picked, those stalks in winter will be a natural, low-tech windbreak against the frigid northern winds that we are currently enjoying (by 'enjoying' I mean 'hiding from'). Closer to the house, we'll have the produce more often used or in need of protection from critters. Less ground covered while caring for all this will add up to be a real time-saver.

We are going to get one, maybe two hives of bees started. So those little oddities of livestock will be joining us. Odd, because unlike all other types of farm animals, we don't generally control what they eat or where they forage. Instead, we protect them, give them a place where they can do their thing, and let them go to it. I'm looking forward to this one, inevitable stings and all.

We're going to get a couple of pigs to raise for the summer. Sourcing has yet to be finished, but their pasturing and housing has been figured out. Same for turkeys. We'd like to try a half-dozen. Location's figured out but there's housing to be built. Of all the shortlist items, this one's at the bottom - if one thing doesn't happen this year, it's turkeys.

It was a huge help to have the goal in front of me every day, with little suggestions to attack the bigger goal piece by piece. So, continuing on with planning those items is the goal for this month. That, and getting myself in better shape. All of this farm stuff (and June's Spartan Sprint race!) is going to require physical ability. Staying faithful to the physio and strengthening exercises for my shoulder is a must, as is getting the overall strength and cardio back on track. Come spring, I'm going to need that to wrangle the tiller and lug food and water for all of those planned animals.