A Soulful Life

This Moment

2012-01-27T00:50:00.000-08:00

{this moment}, a Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Look at those blueberry eyes :)

Joining Soulemama

Sharing some links and thoughts on rest and growth

2012-01-26T12:00:00.000-08:00

Now the children are getting older I often find myself trying to get things done rather than take some rest after lunch. It can be easy to fall into the trap of emitting sleep and rest in order to be more "productive".
Get odd jobs out of the way. Clean. Oh how there is always something to clean :)

Nola is a very light sleeper and is up many times throughout the night. I am definitely finding it harder to do without sleep than I did a few years ago with the older ones ;)
This post from Parenting Passageway helped remind me why things always seem to fall into place better and we all get along better when we take the time to rest during the day.

I find that when we rest the girls are far more content, as am I. And whatever we accomplish, learn or do afterwards is of a depth and quality than any accomplishment we have earned by running ourselves ragged.
What is all the rush about? What is all the pressure about?

I also find that I'm far more at peace with imperfections, both mine and others, when I've had a break in the day. The little whinges and whinings, which are ironically often a result of not enough rest....
There is this inherent guilt in me that I must keep omyself constantly preoccupied with something "useful".
This quote is a wonderful antidote to that mindset I think.

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time”

John Lubbock

I think it is so important that I listen closely to my and my children's body, mind, and soul (for all are linked) and be humane in my approach to what I'm are able to do and what I'm not. I'd rather feel a sense of peace and love and let less important things take second place.
A good example being that....I've just taken up Nola's entire morning nap time to write this :)
Writing is something I would usually leave until the evening. But today it just felt important, needful, right. Flexibility is something I'm learning to embrace more and more as I get older. Right now I hear distant sounds around the house, little murmurings of life. Stirrings, like seedlings in the earth.
The little are content playing dressup and colouring in their fairy books in their room. Emmy is writing something for Air Cadets and Bujana is playing with Emmy's caligraphy set, writing some beautiful, ornate letters out in dipped pen and ink! .... Bujana has never shown the slightest interest in her handwriting until Emmy recieved this caligraphy set for Christmas. Now, simply becasue she has been inspired by some beautiful examples of penmanship she has learned cursive, joined italicised handwriting all of her own accord!!!
The house is, almost, silent!

We are still in the process of de-learning or un-learning our conditioned ideas about what is important, what constitutes "real" education and ultimatly what we want to spend the most of our time on our precious earth learning, being and doing. We are not here to simply cram facts into our brains, pass tests, trade the better part of our lives doing a job that neither nourishes us or our world simply so we can earn money, consume and expire.
Unschooling has opened my heart and mind in so many ways. I can't believe how much it has woken me up as a person, helped me to ask the imporatnt questions, and more importantly learn how to answer them. From an unconditioned truth. From a freer perspective.

Last week we finally racked Autumn's mulchy brown leaves from the grass to the flower beds and veggie patch. I think mama hood is the mulchy leaf stage of life :) It doesn't always "look" pretty or impressive, but things are happening at an integral level.
Inaudible happenings in the deepest places. We are not the individually bright and beautiful leaf, bathing in the light of the sun, synthesising photons, releasing dazzling sugar stained anthocyanins into our own blood streams.
We are undefinable in a way, a part of the earth, the creation. Softer, subtler, truer.

Here are some other beautiful and inspiring links I've found on my travels this week :)

A Mountain I'm Willing to Die on.... Momastery

A Beautiful free e-book on practising peace from Mama Om

Skirts awash with colour over @ Sparkling Adventures

Plasticine Stamp printing from Filth Wizardry

The Amazing movie "I AM" which I hope to write about more in depth sometime! Thank you MJ for the link!

Thank you Inspiration Earth for sharing an awsome poetry slam!

a birthday ramble

2012-01-21T16:18:00.000-08:00

My Birthday was a gentle day... The girls woke me with gifts, a dozen or so little origami animals poems and hand made cards...:)
We watched the magical Arrietty.

Tani brought some fish and chips home for lunch with mushy peas, my favourite:) We ate them in their paper on a blanket on the carpet with the kids :)

In the evening,we went out to dinner at a nice old fashioned pub restaurant that we like and for the first time in a long time I nearly polished off a whole bottle of wine !!! There was about a glass and a bit left :) Still I was quite impressed :)

It's amazing how you can learn to feel so much of what another person feels, that you almost feel like you are really apart of one another.
Tani and I couldn't be more different as personalities but somehow over the years we seem to have melded into one soul.
I need his strength and outgoingness, to offset my vulnerability and introversion.
I need his practical mind to balance my impulsiveness.
I need his earth like temperence in clay. It channels my fragile little stream from it's little woodland dwelling to the open air and the blue skies of possibilities :)
He makes me feel braver.

Vicki mentioned the briggs meyers test in the comments recently which I took a couple of years ago and recently again.
I am a typical INFP and Tani is almost the complete opposite an ENTJ!
We often joke that it was the language barrier that kept us together long enough in the beginning to clinch a deal :)

When we first met, Tani spoke a little English with a very odd accent with bits of Geordie, Irish and Liverpudlian thrown into the mix as he had been working on building sites with people from all over the country since landing in London.
But I never laughed so much in all my life than I did when we were together!
No matter what we have been through, we have always been able to laugh. I know this is a true gift.

Lately I've been thinking about my life, how I have become who I am and how I've struggled to allow my own true voice to come through after protecting it under layers and layers for years and years.
I've cried for the girl I was, the child who was afraid and alone almost constantly. The child who could do nothing but run to save her life. The girl who always felt like an outsider, a stranger. The girl who needed to build family and foundations, before she could even begin.
And here I am beginning, it seems late, with a lifetime and a half behind me, within me, yet still not brave enough to fledge from the bough.

I look out at the horizon, but sometimes, I feel like I'll never feel at home here in this world.
I'm super stressed by things like crowds, supermarkets, neon lights, driving on motorways :)
I hate the feeling of adrenaline, it makes me feel nauseous. Maybe I've had my quota of it in the past so that now I get an allergic reaction to it or something :)
Maybe I should have been born in a quieter, slower paced time. Certainly, at times, it feels as if my biology hasn't quite evolved to meet the standards of modern life :)

I need to find a way of being in the world that doesn't feel like I'm compromising who I truly am and what I beleive in. I need to find a way to manifest my story into something tangible without betraying it, or diluting it or simply hiding it as I have so often done. The thing is it seems hard to reconcile so many aspects of the modern world with my own heart and soul.
I want to live simply, without all the complexity, the bearocracy, the "stuff" but what a challenge that is! It seems as if you have to be self supporting to begin with if you want to have a chance of surviving outside of the system.

I've been reading a lovely little book called Balancing Heaven and Earth by Jungian analyst Robert Johnson, who is one of my favourite writers. In it he talks of how we can set others free when we find our own freedom.
I find that I am drawn to people who have a sense of freedom about them, people who have that childish quality that allows them to unselfconciously be themselves. To speak without filters or censorship and to love others without filters or censorship. People who are not afraid to just open up or do something fun or unconventional or non conformist. People who will challenge rules that don't bend toward deep, messy human love. People who will be unfaithful to remain faithful... I want a little bit of that courage :)

I've also been thinking about what life means to me in an essential way.
Relationships, nature, God and meaning are my sacred four.
I feel quite deeply that my mission is to learn how to love. Really love. Love the essential goodness present in all people.

I was talking to Boo today about how sometimes even the worst bits of us actually come from an essentially good instinct. Like wanting a pretty dress is a veil for a love of beauty. Boasting, is a veiled desire to believe we are specially loved, which in fact we are.
Even a lie simply aches to be worthy of the truth. It's almost like a wish :)

Girls often have their inner princess squashed as a child, but that inner princess is real. It a way for God to exalt the soul. Show that it is cherished beyond measure despite it's natural flaws.
It is that little piece of us that bears the image of something beyond, something eternal.
Sometimes when my girls have done something they know is wrong I'll bundle them up good and tight, look into their eyes and tell them that I can still see them. I can still see that they are beautiful inside, I can still see that they are a princess :)

This afternoon I started thinking about a few things that have been a big influence of me. Things that have really opened my eyes, my heart, my soul over the years. Things that have fed me, or awakened me, given me clarity and perspective. I got it down too the absolute minimum which was super hard. But these books, movies, writings seem to have been the ones that stuck most to my soul and changed it through love and clarity for the better. These have mentored, counseled and helped me grow ...

Books

The poetry of Rumi
Love by Earnesto Cardenal
Women Who Run with the Wolves Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Dumbing us Down John Taylor Gatto
A People's History of the United States by Howard Zinn
The Fisher King and the Handless Maiden Robert Johnson

Movies

Baraka
The New World
The Thin Red Line
Babies
Into Great Silence

Spirit

"Be the change you want to see" Gandi

The Beatitudes

Ojibwa Prayer

People

John Trudell
Martin Luther King
Saint Therese
Mother Teresa
Jeanne d'arc
John Bradburne Vagabond of God
Saint Isidore the Farmer

This poem...

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to
be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Moving to the woods... For those who keep dreaming

2012-01-15T19:14:00.000-08:00

"To be poor and be without trees, is to be the most starved human being in the world. To be poor an to have trees, is to be completly rich in ways that money can never buy."
~"Uncle Zovar : The Faithful Gardener" Clarissa Pinkola Estes.

There is a sycamore tree in our back garden. Whenever I catch a quiet moment to myself, or maybe when I'm doing the washing up I gaze at it.

Each season it gives me a new story, in it's starkness, it's fiery glory, it's tender greenness or it's carefree Summer flourish.

Whenever I feel alone or sad I am drawn to the window. The green leafed hope and life rustling like a prayer I cannot yet speak.

In the front garden grows an Ash and a Rowan.
The Ash grows right against our window. Many people have said we should cut it down but I can't.

Sometimes I can look at it and imagine that our house is within a wood. Sometimes birds come and rest on it's branches and I can see them so close, each thin fleck of feather, the delicate curves of their bodies. I am reminded of my childhood wonder again.

We are surrounded by buildings and lights on all sides. The sky is a small square framed by jarring angles. In the evening the orange glow of the street lights spread a musky gauze so that it is hard to see the stars clearly.

I ache for greenery, nature, wilderness.

I pine for it, yet I try also to forget about it because sometimes it seems so far away. I want to bury my hands in dirt, feel the roots, the moistness the movment of the seasons. Be able to cup my hands in the stream and drink.

Nature was the one thing that reminded me that there was a God when I was a child. It also told me that God was good. He was a storyteller, an artist, a poet, healer.

I watched a documentary about Yellowstone last night.
After the Native people had been removed from the land, many of the first settlers arranged epic hunting expeditions that almost wiped out the wildlife.

In an attempt to save the wilderness, some environmentalists of the day argued that Yellowstone could make a great tourist destination. But first of all, they would have to kill all the wolves to make it more people friendly.

However, this was a mistake as the wolves naturally culled elk and other species which ate trees and plants such as willow which the beavers need to make their dams.

After attempting to artificially cull the elk themselves the park officials finally, reintroduced the wolf to the park.

Yet somehow the ecology of the wilderness was still not quite in balance and still required human modification and management.

The park managers questioned why this was. Finally they realised that the missing element was the Native people. Those whom they had first evicted! Yet those native peoples were an intrinsic part of that particular ecology, just as the wolf, the willow and the elk were!

The difference was that the Indigenous people's lived off the land in a way that could enrich it rather than harm it.

People need nature to move them, mould them, remind them of God. When our connection with nature is broken so is our connection with God. We forget to treat the earth as a living, breathing being and we harm her for things we don't really need.

The earth and us, are one and the same, just as we are part of God and He a part of us. We need eachother to be whole. To be holy even.

Sometimes I think, we'll just move into a caravan with the kids, or build a log cabin in the woods :)
I don't mind a small house and few things if I can see a few trees, hear the birds, watch the stars peep through an inky sky.

Maybe one day I'll just do that :)

Earth teach me quiet ~ as the grasses are still with new light.
Earth teach me suffering ~ as old stones suffer with memory.
Earth teach me humility ~ as blossoms are humble with beginning.
Earth teach me caring ~ as mothers nurture their young.
Earth teach me courage ~ as the tree that stands alone.
Earth teach me limitation ~ as the ant that crawls on the ground.
Earth teach me freedom ~ as the eagle that soars in the sky.
Earth teach me acceptance ~ as the leaves that die each fall.
Earth teach me renewal ~ as the seed that rises in the spring.
Earth teach me to forget myself ~ as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teach me to remember kindness ~ as dry fields weep with rain.

- An Ute Prayer

All pictures taken on a very beautiful and healing walk this afternoon.

Growing girls...

2012-01-14T10:30:00.000-08:00

Well what have we been up to this week?

Nola cried and cried during her 8 month check up where, as I predicted, they stripped her down, weighed, measured and assessed her just to let me know that she is fine :) Which I kind of already new :) Poor little baby thought it was such a big adventure till she had to sit on those cold scales :(

She's still a wee wittle girlie just hitting the 25th percentile, but she has always been that way so no surprises.
Miss Nola has got herself quite a personality now! She is very cuddly and loves to snuggle while wriggling her little body about. She loves to get in on whatever any of us are doing. She loves to race behind the sofa and bury her little face in the carpet till we say "where is Nola?" Then she'll pop her head out and giggle happily thinking she has quite fooled us all!

She loves to scurry across the front room in a game of chase. I'll follow after her on all fours till I catch up with her, when I do she sprawls and I tickle her under the arms. She loves her little animals and dollies and anything that she can shake and rattle. She babbles away and has said a few words (I think) because she is quite consistent with them "Mama" is for when she's crying, or whinging :) She also says amoung other sounds... "Dada", "Baba" for baby, "up" for cup (she is obsessed with cups :) "baw" for ball. She also makes the cutest clicking noise with her mouth whenever she is hungry.

At the moment she doesn't eat too much, but will happily eat a few spoonfuls of organic bio yogurt, mashed fruit, carrot, potato and porridge. She also loves to suck the juice out of an orange segment or gnaw on a rice cracker. Yesterday she even managed a small bowl of mashed stew, which I was very impressed with as she usually won't go for anything with meat in it.

Yesterday when I washed her hair a little curl popped up on the top of her head, it is still there, I'm now wondering if she might have wavy hair instead of dead straight. The little birth mark on above her top lip is fading. I'm a little sad :( We have always called it the spot where the angels kissed her.

There is an old story about why we have a philtrum ( the groove between the top lip and the nose). Apparently the angels impress their finger upon the lips of all babies so they can't tell the secrets of heaven when they are born :) Well this little one tells me a few secrets:)

The three middle girls seem to have had a huge wave of energy recently. They are constantly coming up with ideas, plays, stories, art projects, garden projects, and I let them get on with it most of the time as I don't want to squash their momentum. It is wonderful to see how beautifully they co-operate whenever their is a shared incentive :)

And although written evidence that learning is happening may not be immediately evident, I always find that they seem to make great leaps during these frenzy's of creative play.
The only "problem" is the increased levels of "mess" that can sometimes be generated. When they were little mess could be more easily contained, now they are older I can sometimes feel a little out of my borderline OCD comfort zone with it all. The projects can get quite convoluted and require all sorts of props, and equipment and materials. But by 4PM and everything has been picked up and they are ready for some quiet reading, drawing or writing, or a new favourite, just snuggling up and listening to music, I know that they have been given the opportunity to learn and grow as they need to and that is so very satisfying.

Matilda's life is all about Rainbows at the moment. She counts down the days and hours till Wednesday night when she can go to Rainbows. Talks about rainbows constantly and if not talking then drawing pictures of them :)
Rainbows, sadly, has also been her first experience of girl meanness. Last week she came home in a strange, distant mood which I had never seen her in before. Eventually it came out that a couple of girls had been giggling and whispering about her and they told her that they weren't going to tell her what they were talking about because she wasn't their friend.
I know that Matilda is very sensitive so even though this might not seem like much, to her it would have been very upsetting.
I know that I can't protect Matilda, or indeed any of the girls, from all life's experiences both the good and the bad, but I do want to ensure that they have a warm place to "land" so to speak. A place of comfort, security and unconditional love, where they can figure them out, talk about them, realise that there is nothing wrong with them because of them and that they must never try to find their sense identity or self esteem through other people, but in themselves and their Father God who tenderly carved them in the palm of His hand and loves them infinitly. Ultimately I want to enable them grow stronger not weaker from whatever experiences they go through.
I've tried to explain to all the girls that often when people are being mean, it comes from a sense of their own insecurity. In that way they can still have compassion for that person without feeling as if their behaviour is a reflection of anything about them.

Boo is very strong even though she is quite shy and has run to the defence of her little sisters and friends at her out of school groups many times. She has a keen sense of justice that overrides her quiet nature when she thinks something unfair has happened, or someone is being picked on.

Fina on the other hand, is a natural born leader. If anything, I have to watch that she doesn't overwhelm quieter kids with her exuberance! She has a heart of pure gold though. And it's such a relief in a way, because she is so self assured, I know that nothing will ever bring her down. I wish I was more like her :)

Probably I am over sensitive about the bullying issue because Emmy was bullied both physically and emotionally during her last two years at school.
She had tried to resolve the situation with her class and head teachers, as the children are taught to do, but the problem only escalated.

It was on her last day of school, when she had been bullied by two children, one of whom was meant to be her "friend" and a boy who pushed her to the ground and kicked her hand so hard it swelled to twice it's size, that the previous two years of abuse emerged.
She told me of many different times when she had been punched, kicked, had a hand around her throat etc... including being called names that she didn't even know the meanings of.... Sadly I did :(
She had kept most of it in because, although she had told the teachers nothing had been done about it and she assumed it was just part of what school life was about... It was that endemic.
She was also a shadow of the bubbly, self confident, sweet natured little girl that had started school with such enthusiasm 5 years before.
I weep as I write this because I feel so incredibly sorry for her.
I think that part of the problem was that the bullies mothers worked in the school. I suppose I was too naive to believe that that should make a difference at the time. I put a lot of trust in the teachers and the system.

Emmy had apparently been told over and over again that she should just "get on with it". Some people even told her to hit back, but that is not her nature. Certainly, in the real world putting up with abuse is not tolerated, and hitting back, seldom so.
My beautiful girl has, through much time to heal, now found herself again. Sometimes I have concerns about the fact that although she is a gifted student she may only be able to pass 3 GCSE's through our local college, I have total faith that God will be her light and her guide. No certificate is worth a person's self esteem or happiness. No certificate is worth a person's soul.

She may not have every conventional or formal qualification going but her heart, spirit, body and mind will be intact and she will have other qualifications and experiences which might actually be worth more to the job market in the future anyway.

She has just been accepted on an Open University course which I'm super excited about for her. And that in itself is more of a formal qualification, if ever it was required.
I know that my beautiful girl will shine no matter what she does :)

It's just so good to see her smile so often!
The smile's of children are true blessings!!!
I am so happy I get to see every one of their smiles each day :) How privillged is that!

Matilda's Ballet Tute...

2012-01-09T21:29:00.000-08:00

Mini film producers ;)Boo and Tilly were playing around with their Daddy's phone one day and look what we discovered they had left on it :) Their very own ballet tute.

Silent

2012-01-08T07:54:00.000-08:00

An evening winter walk... Perfect for gathering spoon carving wood... pictures coming soon :)

nature's own playground!

Over all the hilltops
Silence,
Among all the treetops
You feel hardly
A breath moving.
The birds fall silent in the woods.
Simply wait! Soon
You too will be silent.

~ Goethe

"Britain's Chinese Tiger Mothers" some thoughts ...

2012-01-07T13:35:00.000-08:00

...A few thoughts after watching Britain's Chinese Tiger Mothers...

Firstly I truly believe that these mothers do what they do out of a deep measure of love. Yet, maybe, there is a good measure of fear in the mix too...

I came away from the programme wondering whether gaining 12 A* GCSE's really is the pinnacle of 16 years around the sun... What about gaining a Bachelors, Masters, or Phd in a subject you don't enjoy simply because it might afford you some material security ? Does our primary motivator to achieve have to be fear?

Learning yes. Deep, true, honest learning that doesn't compromise a childhood, family, joy, peace or soul, but actually enriches them. Absolutely!
There is something pretty wonderful in that kind of learning!

But the push for governance over every aspect of our lives and our children's lives? No.
I question that.

Once the exams are over and the study books put away what is left?

An emptiness that needs constant external reassurance and rewards?

A person that has never spent enough time alone in solitude and peace to ever find out who they really are and what they really want?

Someone who doesn't ever question the system?

Yes, these mother's seem to spend a lot of time with their kids which is wonderful. But this connection seems so conditional.

Communism and poverty was the diet on which Tani was raised.
Bread crumbs of fear, deprivation and the relentless stream of activity that would produce "excellence" that left his little 5 year old cousin who could not answer quickly enough in the shame of her own wet skirt for a whole day.

He finds it almost impossible to shut off, calm down, relax, just be.
To often technology often provides a synthetic numbing of senses till light bouts of sleep take over.

And so many of us exist in the quick drawing of breath as we come up for air between the mad rushes.

As the waves of synthetically driven interests rates rise above wages and hours rise above heads and the pressure for children to perform, "succeed", achieve and check the right boxes and cram minds with facts grows, we can find ourselves sinking deeper into a kind of half sleep that has little time to pause and reflect on it's own condition.

Slowly, silently, insidiously, we fall under the spell.

And in our fatigue we give our children microwaved junk instead of real home cooked food.
In our rush we drive instead of walk.
In our stress we disconnect from relationship and plug into computers and televisions.
Face book replaces a warm cup of coffee and a chat.
A lack of sensual fulfillment during the weeks is made up for at the weekend when we gorge on porn, alcohol, gambling, high risk behaviour and affairs.
Finally, in the fear that our children may not inherit the same life, or better, an enhanced version provided by fame and fortune, we push them through the treadmills of the same system.

Hours and hours every day spent away from what they really want to do or need to do to grow into fully happy, content, well rounded, healthy human beings, full of passion,energy, purpose and meaning.

People who are fulfilled and confident are usually also compassionate, giving and tolerant of others.

These are gifts the world desperately needs right now, more than anything else.

Children are fantastically inbuilt with a wondrous love of learning. Their own method being the very best one for them to utilise in their understanding of the world.
After all it is designed perfectly to suit their unique aptitudes. Nature is very good at providing the tools for learning and growth.
Yet so often methodology imposed from above often squashes those important instincts.
More importantly perhaps it makes us believe that we can't trust our innate qualities and gifts.

And people who don't trust themselves and their own intuitions and instincts are very easy to subjugate in later life.

I believe we need to have a grass roots approach that empowers individuals whatever their age.

Young people are rebelling in the only ways they know how.

Even though we are "richer" than we have ever been... Teen pregnancy is up, teen suicide is up, teen violence is on the increase, teen addictions, eating disorders and obesity, families are breaking apart, we are on more medications for mental health and behavioural disorders than ever before...
Compelling evidence speaks volumes that something is not working.

Do we have to reassess what makes happy, healthy, vibrant individuals, families and communities and start prioritising?

Maybe.

Sometimes those who can "perform" perfectly on the outside often pay for their "perfection" on the inside.

But maybe if we spend more time nourishing and nurturing the inside... the heart... the soul....

Beauty unimagined might break forth.

Unfurl a pair of wings

and fly.

Peace

2012-01-05T15:02:00.000-08:00

blessedness, contentment, open, free, joy, beauty, concious, love... many words called me these past few days when choosing one word to draw on for the coming year...

I want to fill my life up with a piece of all of them :)

But one word came through louder... (or maybe quieter) than any of the others...

Peace.

And not just the "silent" meditative, all the laundry folded, dishes done and kids tucked in bed kind either... a kind so rarely found :)

But a kind of peace that the world cannot give.... a peace that surpasses all understanding.

A peace that says ...trust... ...hope.... ....believe.... ....love.... take joy... .....be... ... free.... ....be... ...content.... ...open... ...blessed...

... for you are beloved...

And you are held by God through every undulation, cadence, valley and mountaintop.

And when things don't always make sense on the outside. You can still trust in the goodness that comes from within... From that source, from God, from Peace himself.

Because peace is a person not a place.

Peace comes from within, not without.

Like a ripple it runs it's gentle course through the conflicting currents of the surface tensions.
Bestowing the rhythum of it's vital breathe to the very furthest shores.
Beyond the reach of a human hand it heals and revives...

I pray to let go a little and allow it's waters keep me afloat this year :)

may your new year be filled with gifts friends :)

xx

Modeling

2012-01-04T10:22:00.000-08:00

“Do not worry that your children never listen to you, worry that they are always watching you.”
~Robert Fulgum

Yes! I need to understand this deeper every day.

Oh, yes! I need to understand this deeper.

beauty as breathing

2012-01-03T20:03:00.000-08:00

To a young child home stands for God. In it he learns to see and touch the gifts of God. If his mother is wise she will make his home beautiful. She will copy the world's creator and make a tiny new Eden. She will bring in flowers and give the child animals and feed the birds. The food on the table will be clean and simple and good. It will not only taste nice, it will look nice . . .

It is in his home that the child should assimilate the Sermon on the Mount, not as if it were being drilled in his brain by words, but as if he were breathing it in his whole being like the air . . .

(Excerpted from "The House on the Rock" Caryll Houselander)
linked from the blog Cherished Hearts at Home

Amish Inspired Ponderings

2012-01-01T17:40:00.000-08:00

There are only a few more hours left to enter Christine's giveaway for a lovely book of Amish proverbs!!!

I have really been enjoying watching channel four's series on the Amish recently.

The Amish have such a deep sense of family and community.
They are also wonderfully, non self conscious and straightforward in the way they talk and act.

Their lives are lived in balance with nature in a way that is creative and abundant rather than destructive and scarce. And their deep faith infuses the work of their hands with meaning and purpose. A purpose that touches something of the eternal rather than a momentary thrill or transient reward.

Of course they are not perfect, all communities have their issues, but somehow the simplicity of their lives endow them with a general air of unaffected contentment.

I've been re-reading this gem of a book by John Gatto recently ( I highly reccomend it by the way)
In it the author argues that community has in many ways fragmented into a series of convoluted and superficial networks. Instead of the organic scaffolding of friendship and extended family that builds a framework for children to grow and adults to find purpose.

There are after school groups and breakfast groups and a hundred other kind of groups but the strong bond of deep love, friendship and endurance that we seek in our depths is so often the missing ingredient.
We are held together by abstractions and ideologies that often encourage competition or shallowness instead of the connective tissue of real, solid love.

I remember when I have been really quite lonely as a SAHM. Good intentioned health visitors would often recommend a mother or baby group so that I could meet other mums.
Although they often provided temporary connection and distraction from the routine, it always seemed a very unnatural environment in which to forge a real friendship. Needless to say, many people I knew then and thought I had become quite close to have drifted away and toward more presently relevant merry go rounds of school, work and extra curricula centered activity.

In many of these groups I often found that there was no way to just open up and be myself. After all I didn't know anyone and they didn't know me, we lived apart, had grown up apart and worked apart from one another on a physical level at least.
There was little talk about anything other than nappies and feeds as we were in affect a group of strangers thrown together under the one common denominator of being new mothers.

I have recently found a deeper level of community through homeschooling and our church but it feels somehow that there should be more of this stuff to nourish and nurture us on our journey through all the big transitions and initiations of life such as teenhood, marriage, parenthood, sickness and aging.

I admit to desperately seeking the kind of community and friendship the Amish women have as they undertake their daily tasks, not alone but as a community with deeply entwined roots.

Funny, but sometimes the most honest, real and supportive community that I have found has been through blogging.
I have met some true friends online, friends who I think of and pray for often! Thank you friends!!! :)

Faith is another aspect of the Amish way which I wish to have a little more of if I'm honest.
They incorporate their faith into every aspect their life.

It seems a popular assertion these days to turn away from traditional faith paths in favour of non belief and, honestly I know a few atheists that have live more closely in accordance with Jesus's teachings than many Christians I have known and I often find myself thinking that maybe this is what Jesus meant when he said this...
"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven."

But when atheism asserts that a life of faith is one of monotonous self denial of our true passions and desires I have to disagree.

When truly "lived" faith transfigures, transforms and raises our desires and passions away from narcissistic self gain toward purer, nobler, gentler things that benefit others rather than just ourselves.

When we have no meaning, no purpose, no faith, family or community to any great measure, then we feel far more tempted to replace true freedom with counterfeit projections of freedom such as consumerism, addiction and vanity. All of which leave us feeling discontent, empty and somehow, strangely bereft.

A true faith bestows dignity, it extinguishes our cravings, despondency and anxiety and replaces them with the cool, healing balm of contentment, resolve, and peace.

It makes us desire what is beautiful instead of what is debased. It anoints our eyes with clarity.

When I think of a simple life, I think of a life that can't be bought.
A life that is not cluttered with the extraneous but deeply centered on the needful.
A life that is undistracted
A life that is not wracked with anxiety or burdened by fear, the fear that we are not accumulating, gaining ground, "succeeding" possessing, securing our future...
A life that is close to nature, beauty and love.
A life that is soft and gentle like those beautifully mulchy Autumn leaves nourishing the earth like a chrysalis or womb.
A life that feeds, and is life giving as a breath of fresh air.

I would like to cultivate this kind of life more and more in the year to come.

My word for last year was "real". I feel like I have come out of my shell and accepted my self and shown myself more clearly and truly that ever before.
I have removed many of the shackles of fearing people and the world that I had become so used to.
I feel content to simply be loved by God as I am.
Full of hiccups, chipped bits and dusty spots but with a pure intention to follow where love leads regardless.

I know that many people want a simpler life and it seems harder and harder to aquire the freedom to do so. This is a big question I hope to look more deeply into in the year to come.

I'm not sure what my new word for the year will be.... Mmmm, I'll have a ponder over the next couple of days I think :)

Much love to all this new year
xx

2011 in pictures...

2011-12-30T18:15:00.000-08:00

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.
~Robert Louis Stevenson

Nola's little robin

Thank you cards

peekaboo

“Hello, sun in my face. Hello you who made the morning and spread it over the fields...Watch, now, how I start the day in happiness, in kindness.”
~ Mary Oliver

The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.
~Basho

...peace whispers in the flowers and prays in the rustling branches

beauty is in the free, simple green places

reflecting in the silences and pauses

this is the journey...

Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.
~Basho

being

right with right where we stand.

discovering

sitting

climbing

freedom

from roots to branches

heaven to earth

chasing sunbeams

closeness

holding close and letting go

colour and story

character's that grow and make you grow

wordless, perfect

gifts fashioned from love

Being held right where we are.
Wrapped in grace.

Real friendship is that way, to be real and loved as we are.
In it we become the truth that God made us to be in the light of an unconditional love.

happiness dwells in the smallest, humblest places.

cradle it gently.

in womb warmth.

joy!!!

birthdays

magical little pixies

love

a peaceful soul

garden blooms in cups, jars and glasses

snuggles, cuddles,

meaningful work

snippets of art in the ordinary

music

exciting and unexpected detours

the wind in your hair

drawing close

light and...

greeness, fresh shoots peeping through...

eyes that seek wonder

fragility

handprints

and the impressions we leave behind on the fabric of our lives...

ephemeral moments that pass so fast yet hold such preciousness

weaving fragments into a good warm beautiful cloth

"Holy" enough to allow the starlight to shine through the clay.

And those stories we create that build the ladders between bodies and souls, heaven and earth.

Watering, feeding, nurturing...

Memories are the poetry of our lives. They infuse the ordinary with a sacred light.

If only I may grow: firmer, simpler, quieter, warmer.
~Dag Hammarskjold

Be still like a mountain and flow like a great river.
~Lao Tzu

...onwards into the New Year dear friends.
Wishing you deep peace and warm love along the path...

Pieces of Christmas...

2011-12-29T20:03:00.000-08:00

"Have you ever noticed what a place of honour beauty holds in our memories - how it can generate a glowing inner happiness? I have a conviction that the experiences of beauty cultivated during our life are harvested eventually in old age as a rich and gladdening content to our memories."
~ Christine Fynes-Clinton "All Year Round ~ A Calender of Celebrations"

Maybe my favourite picture... it just captures the colour and wonder and joy...
Something about taking a long break away from routine opens the eyes, illuminates the perspective...makes you wonder why the pushing, pulling, wrangling through. Why more?
A few simple things, food, family, music, people who care and the meaning that weaves it's golden thread through all it all turning it all into truth and lessons of love. This is all that is needful.

The kindness of friends and family has "once again" filled our children's Christmas with the wonder of what it is to both give and receive... And this year was the first year we could really "treat" the children with one or two gifts that I hope will give lasting a deep joy without harming the gift that is our mother earth and may be passed down from one hand to another in time to come.

And yes (somehow:) those very loved dollies got new dresses in their stockings, sewn by the Christmas elves!!!

The fairies took these special silks through the middle of a rainbow and the morning sunrise to give them their magical colours you know!

Fi cooking christmas lunch.

Boo was Mary for the nativity play at church and the other girls were angels... I wish we'd taken pictures at the time because Boo's veil has gone missing... I am hoping we might find it by Epiphany... :) Ho hum... Boo's face just shone all the way through the little play. She has wanted to play Mary for so long! I was so happy for her...

Florence bringing her quiet aura to calm the waters just when nessecary.

Creating the days after....

The wonder and the sacredness infused in small gestures, prayers, moments, candles lit.
Like the poet Robert Bly said a child's soul already knows all this stuff, we don't have to simplify it, reduce it, try to make the mystery understandable, we simply have to bring it forth so the child will know in it's depth of heart a safe knowledge that yes, he...or she did come to the right place...

...And here is the most beautiful nativity set gifted to us by some very special people.
I have so wanted the children to have a nativity set with individual pieces for so long...and here it is... The girls are captivated by it!
On Christmas night we lit their jam jar lanterns around it and told the story of the four creatures and the Christ Child, the girls were far from their wriggly selves, and were just enchanted by the light and the figurines as I read the story...
I couldn't believe that they went to sleep so quickly afterwards even though they were so excited for santa to visit and eat the mini feast they had spread out for him and and his reindeers :) I must admit I'm not surprised he always looks so round!

Our first ostheimer figurines! One for each girl :)...And the star girl for Boo our winter baby born on the feast of Stephen 8 years ago...How has time gone so fast, I don't know.

My sensitive, quiet yet playful, funny, fiercly inteligent, loving, loyal, dark eyed baby bear cub Boo!

We call you Bujana Baa Lamb so Emmy made you this little lamb which you have carried everywhere with you ever since you unwrapped it!

And there it is, memories, in fragments of colour, swirled together.
White silks taking the watermarks and impressions of the days...

( edited to add... Sometimes I worry that blogs can be a little too much like it's all about things and having things and things looking just "right"... magaziny... I want to clarify...
My home is very smallish and full of littl...ish people ;). It is also very imperfect and frequently messy thus I often shoot my photos before I've really composed them hence the motion blur so often present :) I hope and pray they capture the essense of the quote at the top of the page.
Conveying simple imperfect ordinary beauty that is within the reach of a soul rather than a pocket book :)

Much love to you all friends
xx

2011-12-25T14:47:00.000-08:00

"When a soul sets up to find God, it does not know whether it will come, or by what path it will be led. But those who catch the vision are ready to follow the Lamb where ever He goes. And it is as they follow, obedient to what they have seen, in the spirit of joyful adventure, that their path becomes clear before them, and they are given the power to fulfill their high calling. They are those who have the courage to break through conventionalities, who care not at all what the world thinks of them. Because they are entirely taken up with the tremendous realities with the soul and God."

~Amy Carmichael

following the star

2011-12-19T00:50:00.000-08:00

twinkling

lingers the quiet corners

all those good baking smells
wandering about the house

sprinkling a little glitter

and spice

...along the way

Listening to pooh bear stories with our jumpers inside out... :)

opening new worlds in picture books...

and finding peek-a-boo babies in boxes under the tree.
What a perfect Christmas gift she is!

Snuggling up with "baby Jesus" :0)

quietly and slowly we begin to follow the star to Bethlehem.

Winter post

2011-12-16T09:37:00.000-08:00

Winter's sun, thin residues, unspun
undress the trees
with transparency.

bestowing grace

in the most unlikely place.

Drawing life

from stark boughs

bringing wonder

weightlessness

and peace

wrapped within it's silent embrace.

Child do you see
the breath that flows within and beneath?

Your blue skies awake my tired eyes
till I begin to find too...
through the thin skin of winter
a broken, gentle,
holy
silence.

{Yarn Along}

2011-12-13T21:18:00.000-08:00

I'm joining Ginny for Yarn Along this week!
Sadly, I had to rip out most of the front of Fina's sweater and I couldn't bring myself to take any pictures of it this week so Emmy is standing in for me!
For some reason (probably sleep deprivation and general mushy headedness) I counted my stitches wrong when it came to divide the neckline, thus, one shoulder ended up far bigger than the other and no amount of pushing, nudging, pulling, tweaking, denial or wishful thinking could make the situation any better:(
A big wiggly pile of wool now sits in wait for me to re-motivate myself into action before December 25th...
So this week, I'm sharing some of Emmy's recent work! I just asked her what book she is reading mostly at the moment (she usually has a big stack piled up on her bedside desk so it's hard to tell)...she's a bookworm like her Mama ;) ... she says she really enjoyed Far from the Madding Crowd which she finished last night (Mmm so that's why the bedside light was still on at 11 pm then:).
Emmy says of the book, that she loved the surprise happy ending and the poetic style of prose throughout... so there you go :).

I remember that rainy day a couple of months ago actually, when she decided to pick up her crochet hook and a ball of wool from the bottom of my wool basket and just start working rounds to see where they would take her.
Well it took her down a rabbit hole it seems!!!
Because look who appeared only a few weeks later!
This little rabbit will soon belong to another little rabbit we know ... Nola, who was born in the year of the rabbit. A perfect present :)

Emmy has also made some really wonderful knitted bean bag juggling balls. They are perfect for learning to throw and catch with... Boo has spent quite some time researching on youtube in an attempt to learn how to juggle with them too!!! It may be sometime before we make a video of that :)

I was hoping to share a tutorial Emmy made but my youtube account has been hacked so I'll try to put it up when that has been sorted out :(

Making and Creating...A quiet advent and a homemade Christmas!!!

2011-12-12T08:42:00.000-08:00

Lantern making for those cosy winter evenings.

Fina looks for the little window on the advent calendar

Books pile happily beside chairs and beds.

Practising.

Dress up.

Beauty.

Wet felted Christmas tree decorations.

Shhhh, secret gifts made by big sisters for little sisters.

Angels, always angels...Almost ;)

Art.

And yes, finally little miss Nola's waldorf dolly is coming together.

As are new, thrifted fabric outfits for the doll's stockings!

And today is baking day...
Gingerbread ornaments and cookies for gifts!!!

Without the bond of relationship...

2011-12-11T00:51:00.000-08:00

Without the bond of relationship and time for connection, small children have become over-stimulated, privy to too much adult conversation, anxious, and defiant. They have been pushed from their heart into their head too soon. As a result, parents disconnect from their kids and find the distractions of school, screens, peers, and activities to be exactly what allows them to survive the daily grind of what has become modern, normal family life...

~taken from this article @ The Wonder of Childhood Magazine

...in response...

2011-12-09T11:44:00.000-08:00

I just had to write a post in response to comments on this post about the poor standard of living conditions the council are providing for a disabled woman and her 5 children.

I'm really tired of people who judge others for the number of children they have.

Those within a lower socio-economic income bracket often receive the worst prejudice of all.

It seems that there are quite a number of people who feel that if you don't fit a certain criteria, or earn a certain salary, you should not be allowed the privilege of having children.

Even though they work hard, many people do not and will not ever rise above a certain economic level, does that mean they should forfeit the greatest human right of all, the right to have a family? Should such a thing be sanctioned by an independent body, the government or worse still societal pressures and prejudices?

In the current climate many families' salaries are topped up with tax credits or medical exemptions even though they are doing everything possible to support themselves independently of the state.

Truthfully, many of the people at the lower end work harder, in more undesirable conditions, for less than those in the middle or top of the pile.
Does it mean they should be penalised?
I hope not.

I sincerely pray this lady and her family get the help they need...and deserve.

I also hope that compassion will overcome judgement in many hearts.

Mother Teresa once said...
"If you judge people, you have no time to love them."

And what really makes the world a better place love or judgment?

{This Moment}

2011-12-09T00:39:00.000-08:00

{this moment}, a Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Joining Soulemama

The Christmas Story

2011-12-08T01:45:00.000-08:00

This is so sweet, thank you for sharing it Emily!

{Yarn Along} ... and a giveaway winner!!!

2011-12-06T11:36:00.001-08:00

Joining Ginny for another Yarn Along today!
I am not getting along as fast as I hoped with Fina's sweater. I've only managed to knit halfway up the front since last week but we've had so many Christmas inspired projects on the go it's little wonder it has stalled a little!

To be honest I find once advent begins we settle into a far slower rhythm. There is just something about the cold drizzly days that make me want to do nothing but snuggle under blankets, light a few candles, read stories such as this lovely series found linked @ Bending Birches... Craft decorations, cards, secret gifts and drink lots of warm tea and cocoa!

Hopefully I'll have a chance to post a few of our crafts next week... Although with one little gorgeous but wriggly babe in arms it's not always easy to capture the moments at the "moment" they actually happen :)

Nola is certainly our most attached baby ever. She would be perfectly content never to be put down even though she has been more than capable of crawling since she was six months :)
She also wakes every hour or so throughout the night which means she is still co sleeping as it is far easier to settle her and she seems much more content with us than in a cot.
Still, she is such a delight, and as I get older and realise how quickly they all grow up I find myself far more able to embrace these ups and downs and make the most of them as she won't be this snugly forever!

Anyway enough rambling! On to last weeks Giveaway winner as chosen by a random number generator.
Congratulations Christine Laennec! Your copy of "The Happiest Mom" shall be in the post soon :)
Simply e-mail your address to sailingbystarlight@gmail.com :)

{This Moment}

2011-12-01T04:19:00.000-08:00

Joining Soulemama for
{this moment}, a Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Remember to enter my GIVEAWAY for a copy of "The Happiest Mom" by clicking here.

Imperfect Prose on Thursday....

2011-11-30T06:03:00.000-08:00

Baby cries through the night eclipsing my sleep and on the cusp of dawn I hear the children's giggles brimming over in the next room and spilling little puddles into mine, that I feel, I may drown in.
Yet the light catches the curve of that babies lashes and the sparkle of laughter and through the haze I feel the glimmer warm my bones, my heart, my soul.

We start the day late, as usual :)
3 cups of coffee and a picture book on art from the library later we are painting self portraits.
Baby nestles in the cradle of my arm squirming and grabbing at paint brushes and pencils. I swing her around and around and when every effort fails, the lesson is put on hold.

We sing 5 little ducks and the sun shines like a smile through the windows. I think how I should make the most of this unusually warm day and take them to the park to see some real ducks.
It seems a leap too far and I feel a faraway kind of sadness.
As we pile out into the back garden, it seems like second best.
Baby smiles as she watches girls run back and forth..."What's the time Mister Wolf?"
"Dinnertime!!!"
There is much to be said for simplicity :)

Girls kick off muddy boots and soggy leaves spatter the porch, they scuffle into the kitchen as I make reminders... and serve up beans and eggs... The dishes pile... and pile... and I day dream about knitting! Methodical stitches breathing their steady rhythm through the trembling bough of my thoughts.

...the day moves like a piece of music. There are fast paced parts that are hard to keep up with, slow detailed movements that take my whole presence, and some...

I am not much of a conductor and discordance can clatter like the pots in the stainless steel sink. I speak too harshly when the baby is woken after, the faint flutter of her eyelids has finally quietened and stilled.

But every time I allow Him to take over, conduct us through, I hear only the harmony. Life sings one true note. Like a bird at dawn.

And I touch the outlines of the day lightly as if it were something precious.
Or a piece of clay on the wheel that will collapse if handled too much, cave into muddy creases if pressed upon to deeply.

By tomorrow morning there will be no trace of my fingertips upon it at all. No impressions will be left.
It seems.
The session of repeats, reminders, chores will begin again as if for the first time.
But with it, maybe, glimpses of the eternal will break through like that morning light. The one that wakes us from our sleep. And these small movements will resonate far further than we can imagine...

The work is secret work.
Work of the heart.
Work of the soul.

It works as light works on winter fields of dry clay, moistening them, yielding them, preparing them for the life that will break forth within them.

I draw close to Mary, as she wandered, homeless, and heavy with child, thinking how sometimes the less we hold on to our selves and the manner of our days, the more room love has to take us over.
Break through our hardened crusts and bloom anew.

We return to our portraits. Each one shines with a beautiful uniqueness. I feel the deep blessing of knowing these gifts, these 5 girls of mine.

And as the light wanes I still hold it's promise inside.

{Yarn Along} ...and a giveaway!

2011-11-29T14:17:00.000-08:00

Joining Ginny @ Small Things today for Yarn Along!

There has been a hive of creativity in our home recently what with all the homespun Christmas gift making that has been going on!
Emmy actually ended up in casualty, last week having run the sewing machine needle through her finger! It missed the bone by a millimeter and has now completely healed thank heavens, for a while it seemed as if her poor finger would be double it's size for good :(
I am incredibly proud of how brave she was though, not wanting to frighten her little sisters! I have a very strong girl. I'm pretty sure I would have been a trembling mess had it happened to me!

Anyway, on to some brighter news ...

I have started knitting a short sleeved jumper for Seraphina using smooth DK yarn that should be non itchy for her eczema. I'm hoping to have it finished for Christmas. I'm on the needles every spare moment (of which there aren't many:) Still I must admit a little bit of mindless stockinette is rather refreshing after all the eyelet, ruffle and cable drama of Nola's little pink cardi :)

By the way... Here is the little dolly friend I introduced you to last week. She all finished up and ready for one little Fina girl I know. I think she will fill the stocking up nicely don't you :)
I wonder what she will name her? She looks like a cheeky little "Pixie" to me, just like her soon to be Mama is :)

Reading wise, I have just finished the fun and fabulous "The Happiest Mom" by Megan Francis.
It is a whimsical, humorous book about motherhood by a mother of many who has been there, done that, got the t'shirt, the baseball hat and most likely the matching mug and tea towel too :)
It is written in a magazine style with lots of quizzes, hints and tips :)

I'm going to be giving away one copy of " The Happiest Mom" this week and a winner will be chosen at random and announced on Wednesday 7th of December! Why not treat yourself or another lovely Mama this Christmas and take part.

Simply leave your comment at the bottom of this post.

To be entered again tweet this post and/ or share it on facebook, and let me know in the comments that you have done so :)

Good luck!!!

By the way just wanted to squeeze a favour in. Emmy has just entered Slambassadors! Here is her entry on youtube, if you click on that happy like button :) you might just make her day :)
xx

{This Moment}

2011-11-25T10:46:00.000-08:00

Joining Soulemama for
{this moment}, a Friday ritual.
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

{Imperfect Prose}... on Thursdays...

2011-11-23T09:51:00.001-08:00

When we'd finally got a house of our own after being in temporary accommodation for months, the rooms seemed so big and empty. Now they seem so very small and full :)

There was nothing but floorboards, a few pieces of recycled furniture and donated pots and pans! Boo was crawling but I had to carry her everywhere because of upturned nails and splintered wood. Our garden a shock of dead thorns and rubble. No place to play.

Then when Tilly was just four weeks old, Boo came down with the worst fever. As I undressed her hot little body for a bath I noticed a rash. I'd read about meningitis rashes years before so I called the after hours surgery straight away. They told me to phone A and E.

The doctor on the other line told me to come in immediately. My mind raced...
"I haven't got a car. " I stammered.
"Well get a taxi." She replied, dead pan.

I had only one ten pound note and no cards or bank accounts at the time.
Ten pounds would not have covered the taxi there and back.
It was now pitch black outside and snowing hard. Tani was working nights at a pub and our neighbours, the only people we new in the area at the time were out.
In those days we didn't even have a mobile phone.

I tried calling the pub on the landline but it was a dodgy line at the best of times.
Nothing, no connection.
Just a monotonous, lingering note.

I called the hospital again and tried to explain.
"Haven't you got any family that can bring you in?" said the doctor, clearly irritated.
I didn't. In fact I had no one to call. Still don't :)

"Would it be possible to get a home visit?" I ventured.
No it certainly would not.

Finally she said... "Listen if you don't care enough about you child and your husband just can't be bothered enough to leave work it's not my problem. If something happens it's out of my hands, it's your own fault".

Hands shaking and numb I put the reciever down.
Then without knowing what else to do I called an ambulance.

I carried my fragile post partum body and a baby in each arm along the icy path to the ambulance door while Emmy brought the bags behind me.

Thank God Boo did not have meningitis just a horrible fever from which she quickly recovered.
Still I will never forget how people who often need the most, people with very little support and security are often treated.
I have always noticed such a difference in the way I have been treated depending on other's perception of "my class." Or the ammount of money I might (or might not ) have.

An even bigger emotion that I take away from experiences like this is how when things are hard it's like seeing through a fog.
You can't make out where the light source is, you can't even make out your own hand.
Everything seems but a shade of gray right to the end of the road. Sometimes it's not until the fog lifts just a little that you can see just what has been done and how much it has meant.

I am so amazed to be married to a person such as Tani. I have always been used to doing everything on my own. But that is always easier when there is only one person to think of :)
Tani took on so much at such a young age. He made a garden out of the rubble, a home out of the gutted scafolding and peeling wall paper. He made a family out of us. With His love alone.

We started our family as kids and these near thirtenn years later we are closer than I knew it was possible to be.
And it's a miracle. And if there is not a God we could never have done it. So I believe hard.
And I reach for the light even the fog falls and seeps through every surface. Rising only as dampness and the residues of dreams. Because I know light is there. God is with us "Emmanuelle".
There may be much against us, but that is not God. God is for the mourner, the meek, the poor, the dispossessed, the persecuted, the slandered, the lonley, the childlike pure and all seekers of goodness and truth. This is my God.

So when days and nights are hard, and there is no one to call, no shoulder but his and His, I remember that the poor in spirit are blessed.
Because it is only when we are at our most alone and empty that there is nothing else to come between our soul and His spirit.
There can be only God then.

{Yarn Along} A project complete!

2011-11-22T20:23:00.000-08:00

At last!!! It certainly does feel like it's been a while since I joined in with "Yarn Along."

Well, as you can see, at last, I finished the little recycled yarn cardigan. I stitched my very last little stitch two weeks into Nola's 6th month so not too late :)
And either my gauge was completely out or Nola really is an itty bitty wittle baby but it is way too big for her! So there was really no need to rush after all!

So maybe there will be some pics of her actually wearing the cardigan in a few weeks... (months?!?) time :)

till then here are a couple of cute recent pics of her dressed all snuggly in winter woolens :)

first a wittle bit wowwid...

den a wittle bit happy yay!

den justa wittle bit silly...

As for reading, well I've been busy dipping in and out of some of my favourite poetry books for inspiration... "the soul is here for it's joy", "the winged energy of delight", "the barefoot book of classic poems"...plus more than can be mentioned here.... :)

And I was going to write about them but then I found these two on the sofa with this favourite upon their knees :) So had to write about that too!

Here are a few other things we have been busy making and creating lately...
I'm making a little Waldorf doll for Seraphina, like the ones that I've made for the other girls...

Emmy has been busy filling out the Waldorf dolls wardrobe with some new little dresses and pantaloons :)

These Waldorf dolls have really become wonderful friends to the girls.

While on the subject of Waldorf dolls :) I must share a wonderful giveaway over @ the lovely Waldorf blog "Bending Birches." The sweetest little handmade Waldorf doll has been donated to a lucky winner.
To be in with a chance, please pop over to Bending Birches!

Just editing this post to say there is another amazing giveaway over @ Natural Suburbia consisting of *5* gifts from the wonderful Mama4Earth!

a little bit of this and that...

2011-11-19T09:45:00.000-08:00

Just popping in to say a big sorry for not being around much lately. Apart from being busy with our now "more than ever" very full life I have been buried by a small avalanche of poetry which has apparently been quietly waiting for me to pick up a pen and take some notice of it for some time:)

Thank you for all the beautiful comments and awards and memes bestowed undeserving upon this blog recently....I have some very patient and wonderful readers (friends:) here ans you are greatly appreciated.

Talking of poetry.... Although I write furiously with only the occasional above mediocre moment Emmy has just won two poetry competitions... here and here!
She is going through an intense reading phase at the moment, which happens from time to time. Sometimes school for her is pretty much just reading and I'm fine with that!

We have started making our home made Christmas gifts again this year. I hope to finish a Waldorf doll for Fina which means that I've only got one more to make for Nola and each of the girls has their own special doll! Emmy is going to sew some clothes for the dolls for me which will be a bit of a relief as it will free me up a little... I love having a big kid around :)

I seem to be sooo tired at the end of the day at the moment... Life is pretty 24/7.
Nola has started having some really broken nights and usually ends up sleeping between Tani and I but I sleep really lightly whenever she is sleeping with us and end up feeling pretty wrung out the next day. The girls wake up at around 6 and play for about an hour before the rest of us start to get going. But from around 7am to 8:30pm life is full to the brim!....We do have a wonderful time together and there is always a pair of willing arms for Nola (now officially the most spoiled little princess baby in the world ever! :) She is so incredibly beautiful it is hard not to spoil her and cuddle her and kiss her and squish her... :) and she's the littlest so is only entitled to a good spoiling right? :)

Between about 4pm and 8pm (when...in no particular order) a whole house needs cleaning up, kids have seemingly turned into mini tornadoes, there is a dinner to finish and serve and wash up after, evening activities to get ready for, babies to bath and get ready for bed, wild children to wrestle into jammies and read stories and "quiet" "soothing" prayers too....before picking up other kids from activities.... Well by 8:30 I'm pretty much ready for bed too! Tani and I just usually chill out and spend a bit of time reconnecting for a while in the evening which is lovely until we both realize that Nola will probably be awake in a couple of hours again which usually is enough incentive to take ourselves to bed by around 10:30. Not much knitting or writing time for me at the moment :( But you know something, when I fall into my (oh, so delicious by 10:30 bed) I feel such a sense of deep gratitude for the day, for the beautiful unique beings that have graced my life, for the most amazing partner in which to make this sacred journey with.

...And then one small, squishy smile from Nola and I find myself thinking "very quietly" ... "Awwww, I hope that you won't be our last little one."
For all the work, I am in a place of deep contentment. It's the kind of contentment which comes of feeling like you are in exactly the place you are meant to be. It is also the kind of contentment that makes one feel that they are doing something somewhat purposeful. I have come to a place where my sense of accomplishment comes from the quality of my connections and relationships. It's got nothing to do with how I look, or how much money I have (or don't) or whether my house is clean or my cupboards organized... it's not even about whether or not our life makes sense to others...It comes down to one thing, the quality of my love. I always prayed that God would help me to love well, it's the prayer I've always had in my heart and if by the end of my life I can say that I have learned to love well then it won't matter about whether I've achieved anything else, that will be enough for me and I'll have felt I've learned what I was put here to learn. If I can maintain loving connections know matter how many tasks I have to check off my list I feel at peace. I feel I am doing what God wants of me.
I fail daily by the way :) But trying daily is maybe that is what it's all about. A good dose of humility along with good intentions is a healthy, balanced meal for the soul :) Doesn't always taste sweet but... you know, it's keeping things ticking over :)

Boo is really into creative writing at the moment. She has a small collection of notebooks which she is constantly scribbling stories, poems and little plays down in. She loves to organise her sisters into spare of the moment performances which she takes very seriously indeed :)
Actually Boo seems to have grown up suddenly. She is such a gentle hearted girl, with such a strong sense of fairness. She has such a deep sense of love and compassion and her heart is so big! I'm so proud of her.

Tilly is all about princesses and fairy tales and dress up and pretend play and drawing and painting.... and that's fine with me...
She is not as into reading and writing as her two older sisters were but she loves handicrafts such as simple sewing, weaving, latch hook and knitting. She has also developed a keen sense of comic timing... she can always make me smile :)

Fina is still our wild one.... would we have it any other way? No of course not :)
She loves nothing more than to be left with a big pot of glue and a seriously big craft box full of glitter, string, lollipop sticks, pipe cleaners....you name it and she will invent some incredible new gluey creature or gadget... or just a big old wonderful gluey mess and you'll keep it on the kitchen window sill for weeks, just because it makes you smile every time you look at it :) And if it's not glue it'll be mud! She just loves to wallow in the mud and torture a few worms (unintentionally) she thinks she is simply loving them! I sometimes think she is actually a boy :)
Yes Fi is a small piece of something wonderful!

Well I'm going to really try to keep up with our antics in this little space... I'm thinking I'll probably get around to one or two posts a week for a while during this busy season of our lives...

If you've read this far... God Bless you!!!
I send love and prayers along with this little note.
xx

Here is some pretty music Alela Diane is a constant background music in our house at the moment!
Have a wonderful weekend!

Avett Brothers "Head Full of Doubt"

2011-11-13T10:56:00.000-08:00

Hope to get the chance to post something soon. Thank you for all your patience with me. I have some pretty special friends here :) What with one thing and another I've just been too busy to devote much time to this space recently. Thank you for all your kind and thoughtful words they mean so much. Just posting a beautiful music video today. Thank you Emily for introducing me to this band! Emily has posted her own beautiful music video today actually, she has the most compelling voice.

{This Moment}

2011-10-14T02:17:00.000-07:00

{this moment}, a Friday ritual.
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.
Joining Soule Mama

Sorry for the unexpected break...I've been indulging my inner poet :) of late... here

Are you a weary Mama of little ones?

2011-10-07T04:36:00.000-07:00

This post was just for me....and you :)

"A Few Words For Overwhelmed Mamas of Little Ones."

Simple Autumnal Pleasures {multitudes on monday}

2011-10-03T01:11:00.000-07:00

simple Autumnal pleasures...
apples baking
their lingering sweet musk steeping
the house in hearth warmth
and memories
that wrap a soul in cotton dishcloth
place it close to it's kin
in thin wicker baskets brimming
anticipation...

to make:
core some whole apples. place them in a baking pan filled toabout a centimeter with water. put half a teaspoon of honey and half a teaspoon of butter inside the cored centers then sprinkle with a little cinnamon. Place in a hot oven till the skins have burst and the fruit is soft.
Perfect served on it's own as a warming Autumn tea time treat or with a scoop of icecream for pudding.

Boo likes her quiet moments every now and again.
I think she takes after her mummy.

Soon enough this little girl always finds her big sisters hiding spots...
She just can't be without her for very long...

Even the fading blooms bring their own fragrance, their own beauty, their own wisdom.

Some others speak memories of summer.

The little garden spiders, each one named and known by my little girls, just keep spinning, spinning, spinning. A silent world of life within a world of life.

and the leaves from the sycamore just keep falling.
one
by
one.
faint
mute
swelling with a secret
spring,
glowing gold within
their fragile skin.

..and speaking of autumn... here is a lovely little autumnal poem by one of this years national trust competition winners...
enjoy :)

Untitled
By Emma Lister

“It’s really something” -
standing out of the sunroof,
we are not dead yet.

In November, we’ve valleys,
houses leaning, nestled
among those fields

outlined in hedgerows -
and the trees are wet under
miserable sky.

Grow tall, leaves. Unfold.
Bring a cowlick of summer -
with meadows, poppies -

When you lie back down,
the grass curls over your face
and there’s a heavy

bee; autumn is kind
to him. The water in springs
tastes like last winter.

Making A Seasonal Collage...{Saturday Artist} ...

2011-10-01T03:31:00.000-07:00

We made our Autumn collage this week.
We make a collage every season, and I have really begun to look forward to this little family art collaboration. We usually find our collage material and inspiration in old gardening and National Trust magazines that we have collected and stashed over the months.

This week the weather was so wonderfully warm. We took the project outside under the dappled light of the Sycamore...

We had spent some time finding pictures and words and cutting or tearing them out. Now came the fun part, figuring out the composition.

Matilda delighted in painting some of the Sycamore leaves and printing them along the edges of the collage.... and sometimes right in the middle :)

We ended up with a little piece of Autumn beauty pasted upon our kitchen door!

Picture poetry...

{This Moment} heaven

2011-09-30T00:12:00.000-07:00

{this moment}, a Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

joining soulemama today

{Yarn Along}... The Handless Maiden

2011-09-28T09:11:00.000-07:00

Joining lovely Ginny for Yarn Along today :)

Mmmm. Well I finally finished the back of the recycled yarn cardigan.
Now I'm close to completing the left front too! I have approximately two more weeks till Nola will start to fit into it (it's 6 - 12 months) Do you think I'll make it in time? :)

I've been re-reading "The Fisher King and the Handless Maiden" and enjoying it maybe more the second time around than the first!

The story of the Handless Maiden...is a metaphor for how easily we can make a "devils bargain" like the maiden's father does in the story, simply for the promise of a materially easier life... and in so doing lose a piece of our soul... (the father in the story is a miller and he trades his daughter's hands for a mechanical grain grinder.)

Here are a couple of excerpts...

"The devil's bargain comes in many forms!

And who pays the bill for this bargain? Generally it is not the mature feminine, the miller's wife - for she is too hard boiled, too canny to accept such a price, but the young feminine, the tenderest of one's feelings. It is the feeling life of which one is unaware that usually pays the price. Moods,depression, a general sense of malaise - these are the young feminine in one. Accepting the devils bargain is one of the most despicable wrongs ever committed in the psychological world. To know the devil's bargain that are offered to us many, many times a day in the modern world is to begin to safeguard the young daughter, the tender feminine.

One faces a devil's bargain frequently when planning the structure of one's day. How much can one crowd into the day? How much can I get with the minimum payment? How many times in the day does feeling (the daughter's hands) take second place to practicality?"

..." By chance- except that there is no chance in the mythological world - the maiden blunders into a garden. Any woman who exercises her feminine genius of stillness will find her way to the garden, that most feminine of all symbols, the center of her being. More than this, it is the king's garden; she has found her way to the Self, that center which exists outside of time and space and is not wounded by and human mischance."

Truly, it seems, the human soul is not being given it's due in modern life.

Our soulfulness and spirituality as humans is often undervalued.

Insidiously, through the media, matters of faith, the soul and the sacred have been undermined and ridiculed. We need our ancient stories, our connection with nature. We need a sense of the Holy in order to be fully {wholly}human.

Something is being taken from us, from our culture and our consciousness. It is something precious, priceless and beyond the reach of any bargain, however it good may seem.

This book is a timely yet gentle reminder of what really matters.

Above : View from my knitting chair yesterday... :)
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...and for anyone who likes fairystories this is the story of The Handless Maiden in full.

"The Pear Tree" Vincent Van Gogh

There once was a man - a miller who had been grinding the grain of the village for as long as anyone could remember. Everyday he worked so very hard, turning the millstone by hand and making the grain into flour. It was honest work. The miller was an honest man making his contribution to the village with the strength of his back. It was honest, but slow and very tiring.

Towards the end of one long day the devil appeared and says, "For a fee I will show you how to grind your grain much faster and with much less effort." The miller was intrigued and asked the price. "Only that which stands out back of the mill." Thinking the devil meant the old tree out back, something the miller thought was quite worthless, he readily agreed. Imagine, to get more work for less effort for an old tree trunk!

The devil brought his mechanical expertise and made adjustments showing the miller how to create a water wheel that turned the stone continuously grinding and grinding the flour. The miller was delighted as he considered what to do with his new found leisure. His wife became engaged in using all that extra income. Meanwhile, their young daughter remained unconcerned and continued her innocent life.

Some time later the devil returned to collect his fee, and the miller happily led him out back to the old tree, but was horrified to see his daughter standing in the yard. The devil claimed her as his price. They argued. The miller said she wasn't there when the deal was struck but the devil will have none of it. He would get the girl or he would take back his water wheel. The miller was desolated, but unwilling to give up his mill, so he agreed. The devil then chopped off the girl's hands and carries them away leaving her behind. The daughter did not object to her horrible fate.

For some time, the handless maiden was content with her situation and did not complain. After all, there was enough money now to have servants in the household and she no longer had to do the work that required her hands. In time, however, she became unhappy at her inability to do things and she grew more withdrawn, more distressed. Finally, she began to weep and was unable to stop.

She left home and went alone into the forest. There, in that dark and quiet place, she found solitude, and it brought her relief and a measure of peace. She stopped from crying. She began to journey through the woods.

She crossed through a thick and soupy bog growing in fear and despair but made it through to the other side. By chance she found her way into a garden, and not just any one, but the king's garden. Very hungry, she found a pear tree, so well prized by the king, that every single piece of fruit was numbered and catalogued. Somehow she worked out a way to eat a succulent pear without her hands and felt so much better. She went back to the woods to sleep in a leafy bower.

The next day, the king's gardener noticed the missing pear and informed the monarch. The king was angry at the theft, but he was a kind and just man. He decided he had to find out who was taking his pears and why. So he hid himself in the garden and waited. In time the handless maiden returned, hungry again. He watched her first with compassion and then with growing love as she struggled to feed herself. The king finally stepped from his hiding place and fed the girl.

The king took her home to asked her to be his queen. At first she refused saying she could not possibly be queen without hands. He assured her that she would have everything done for her and that she would never need hands. And so she consented to marry.

However it was awkward to have a queen without hands and in time he summoned his magicians. They fashioned for her a magnificent pair of silver hands which made her the delight of the court as she demonstrated her silvery grace. And for a time she was pleased with the hands, and the many compliments they brought.

A year or so passed and the queen gave birth to a baby boy. With all the servants to care for him things went well for a time. But unaccountably, the queen began to weep again one day and could not stop. She longed to care of her own baby, to cradle him in her arms, to smooth his hair with her own fingers. The king tried to convince her that the servants could do all that, but still the tears flowed. Her cold, hard silver hands could never convey the gentleness of a mother's love.

In desperation one day she took the child and fled again into the safe and secret forest. She lived with the child in seclusion existing on the simplest possible fare, and for a long while everything was fine again. Until the day the toddler fell into a stream and was in danger of drowning. Frantic the queen called for her servants, who are of course, not there.

In a moment of sublime strength she plunged her silver hands deep into the water to rescue her child. When she drew the boy from the water choking and sputtering, miracle! the baby was safe and her hands were restored to flesh and blood!

Self Portrait Tuesday

2011-09-27T00:41:00.000-07:00

Wherever you go, go with all your heart. ~Confucius

Thought I'd Join Courtney and Tracey today for Self Portrait Tuesday, seeing as Emmy sneaked a couple of pictures of me yesterday... Doesn't happen that often I usually dodge the camera pretty well:)

Out in the garden with Nola yesterday.

Watching over the watering of the veggie garden, some acrobatics on the trampoline and a little rabbit who loves to burrow in my flower beds :)

Messy morning hair :) But somehow I still like it.

Like the sky opens after a rainy day we must open to ourselves.... Learn to love yourself for who you are and open so the world can see you shine. ~James Poland

Happy Things... Multitudes on a Monday

2011-09-25T16:34:00.000-07:00

tilly's feet wiggling cosy

In the tent " like the girl with the yellow dog's tent" while watching that very same film dressed up as a ballerina and a pirate... of course :)

Honey oatmeal muffins... for teatime treat in tent.

Italian bake... her own recipe

Dessert... by Boo

My daily dose of sunshine on gray Autumn days.

That Wildflower who forever teaches me more than I ever teach her :)

Delicate glimpses of beauty in the midst of a stuggling day

Matilda's Autumn bouquet of gathered gold from our sycamore tree

Seraphina's Autumn treasures collected in her scarf from the park with Daddy

Games played with homemade knitted animals and their own sewn felt food

Two spoonfuls of organic honey, a good squeeze and two slices of lemon, two slices of ginger steeped in hot hot water. Perfect comfort for Autumn coughs and colds.

My heart resting right here.

..and I'll give her melodies...

2011-09-24T03:05:00.000-07:00

Thanking "Woman Laughing" for passing on the beauty here...

...she said sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing... melodies

Homeschool Meme

2011-09-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

The lovely Nadja over @ "Patch O' Dirt Farm" tagged me for this homeschool Meme and I was delighted to take part.

Okay, here are eight questions related to our home schooling life:

One Homeschooling Book You have Enjoyed
"How Children Learn" by John Holt has been very influential to our unschooling approach to education.
Here is a great review of that particular book.
And something really quite different... The Charlotte Mason inspired "For the Children's Sake" by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay was the first home school book that I read through a sidebar recommendation from this well known blog.
It offered gentle guidance when I needed it most and helped me feel confident to follow my own instinctive knowledge that to nourish my chidren's souls is really the primary task behind all the rest.

One resource you wouldn't be without
Nature. Pure and simple.

One resource you wish you'd never bought
I have never bought a curriculum or anything similar so this is kind of a hard question for me :)
I think maybe the beautifully tidy looking, shiny lined work books I tend to buy every year around September in a panic of inspiration... As my type A alter ego takes over in a splurge of indulgence imagining all the "perfect" copy work that we'll never do :)

One resource you enjoyed last year

Library books, especially Usbourne Internet linked books.
The great outdoors, including our own backyard.
Insect Lore's Butterfly Garden
Hop, Skip and Sing in French, and the Lucie Chat series
Dusty gems stacked on our own bookshelves...
Classical music Cd's for background harmony to offset the occasional foreground discordance :),
DVDs particularly Simon Schamas History of Britain,
The Divine Office available online here.
Museums, art galleries, concerts, theatre, the Internet...
Art and craft materiel's...
Our drop spindle

...Sorry that wasn't one was it :)
y
One resource you will be using next year
Probably all of the above... and more soul nourishing whimsy such as... a couple of indulgences from this inspiration filled page here... and maybe this lovely music Cd it's been on the wish list for sometime.

One resource you would like to buy
A lever harp for my budding harpist. Some land for the children to run and play, learn, grow and raise animals.
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One resource you wish exsisted
More real life community.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One homeschool catalog you enjoy reading
I haven't read any as far as I know.

Tag six other homeschool bloggers...Oh this is so hard! There are so many I'd love to ask...I don't mean to miss anyone out :)
Picked out of a hat then :)
Sorry if you've already been tagged for this...

Amy @ Overweights of Joy
Amy @ To Love
MJ @ Wander, Wonder, Discover
Helena @ Loving to Learn
Sue @ Stories of an Unschooling Family
Therese @ Aussie Coffee Shop
...and one more :)
Tonia @ Study in Brown...

{This Moment}

2011-09-22T08:59:00.000-07:00

{this moment}, a Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Joining Soule Mama

{Yarn Along}...with Janet and John :)

2011-09-20T13:00:00.000-07:00

Joining Ginny over @ "Small Things" for {Yarn Along}
Well I'm getting a little further along with Nola's recycled yarn cardigan.
I'm about a centimeter away from completing the back Yey!

Over this last week I have been reading an awful lot of Janet and John with Matilda. She seems to have suddenly taken a keen interest in learning to read.
I bought a couple of new copies of this series as they are simply the best first reading books I've ever found for my girls.

It's funny but old books just seem so often to be richer, more comprehensive and of better quality generally than their modern counterparts.
I scoured our local library for early reading books the other week and could not find anything half as thoughtful as good old "Janet and John".

I'm so thrilled that they are as popular as ever as Tilly has always found reading to be a bit of a chore.
These sweet books with their happy illustrations and simple phonetic sentence construction make her feel motivated to keep going. "Look, I'm reading a real book" She says in obvious delight over and over again :)
There is nothing nicer than seeing this little wildflower settle down in a comfy spot "pretend" reading to herself :)

Multitudes on a Monday... A Soulful Summer...

2011-09-18T05:38:00.000-07:00

THANKFUL for a soulful of memories from the past few months...
{warning} this post is a little picture heavy ;)

We found this prayful little spot hidden among the trees...

We wandered along pathways new...

They whispered their secrets and we stopped to take in every word...

We climbed higher and sought distant horizons...

And those wonders right under our noses... that can be so easy to miss!
Yes! We found those too...

We reconnected with those we hold dearest to our hearts...

Played endless chase, tag and hide and seek...

Kept our balance on the wobbliest days :)

"He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle."
Isaiah 42:3

Let beauty embrace... and sunlight heal and tend each growing plant...

To guide our steps along the way...

"Thy word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my paths."
Psalm 119:105

Some of us thought we might even be real life mermaids!
"...When I grow up I want a fishes tail..."

Sometimes we took some time alone...

But we learned that we needed eachother more than we knew:)

We followed the sun... Wise fellow that he is :)

And only ever got lost...

When we wanted to :)

Sometimes simply sitting in our own garden was enough...

Sometimes adventure called...

"Where next then?"

Tears were kissed away...

...and then the reflection. The seeing who we really are...

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known."
1 Corinthians 13:12

...And finding how truly loved we really are :)

Building...

Weaving...

Knitting the threads together... into water tight memories...

Of togetherness.

That carries us safe along all kinds of waters...

Out into the world...through the tumult and the storm, the blue sky promises of tomorrow...

...back to the gentle streams of home.

...For don't all waters flow that way eventually?

"Cast thy bread upon the running waters: for after a long time thou shalt find it again."
Ecclesiastes 11:1

... all those sepia stained images that will become like old friends in the years to come, as the children grow up and away... to build their own little rafts and find their own stars to navigate.

These I will treasure...More than silver or gold. Above value, each and every one.

..."And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."
1 Corinthians 13:13

{This Moment}

2011-09-15T01:10:00.000-07:00

{this moment}, a Friday ritual.

A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.

Joinging {Soule Mama} today.

{Yarn Along}

2011-09-14T00:01:00.000-07:00

Joining Ginny @ "Small Things" today for "Yarn Along"

Well I've not got along as well as I'd hoped with my little cardigan and legging set for Nola.
Although as you know I have had my hands full with other things (people:) of late!
I have one more month before she will fit into them so I'm really going to try to catch up with myself now...
It's always the same I'm afraid my ideas come along quicker than my hands :)
Callooh Callay for "Yarn Along" then... You lovely, talented ladies never fail to keep my inspiration levels topped up :)

I've just started reading "The Faithful Gardener" {A tale about that which never dies}
By Clarissa Pinkola Estes PHD who wrote the wonderfully soulful epic "Women Who Run With the Wolves" and who I talk a little bit about here. So far it is proving to be a little gem and a good companion to her seminal body of work.

Last weekend we raided the house for long lost library books to return, only to end up arms laden with twice as many again!
One book in particular has made the rounds more than maybe any of the others.... The Internet linked "Usbourne Children's Book of Art" is a wonderfully concise overview of some of the major artists and art movements. All the way from the masters of medieval Europe to modern conceptual art, the book offers the young reader a chance to explore their favourite pieces further through Internet links provided on each page.

Bujana and Matilda copied Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus"
They then read a little about the ancient myth and learned how tempera used to be made. Boo now wants to crush her own pigments and mix them with egg yolk.
Hey Ho Let's Go ... as they say :)

Embracing Autumn... and other Life, Death, Life Cycles

2011-09-12T09:01:00.000-07:00

The leaves are beginning to rust and rustle, gold and red shells of what was only but months previous, tender and green.
Every season brings it's own wisdom and Autumn is the great teacher of the letting go lesson.
We will all reach an Autumn in our life somehow. Physically, emotionally, spiritually... Maybe one and all.
And like the leaves we will be blown along roads we don't recognise.
We will begin to feel the damp earth beneath us, then surrounding us, then above us.
We will become softer somehow.
Then we will go back to our roots, our core, our own truth. And it will be enough.

All relationships encounter an Autumn.
I remember going through a pretty rough Autumn as a mother a few years back.
Growing up, I had never been shown an example of healthy parenthood. It wasn't my mothers fault. In fact she did her best under some very trying circumstances. Still, the fact remained, I had no family to follow in the footsteps of so I began to collect information from outside sources.

In hardly any time at all I built up the most wonderful story of motherhood.

At the centre was this immaculate Madonna archetype. A perfect, spotless example of womanhood.
Surrounding her were happy, contented children who were never sad, confused, angry or afraid, why should they be? All their needs were cared for in a gentle, soothing manner and at all times.

And then I became pregnant with little girl number two and little girl number three only 14 months apart, all on top of a move and some very ill health.

Over the next few months cracks started to appear in the image and soon it had simply shattered at my feet. I simply couldn't live up to the ideal and (thank heavens) neither could my beautiful, messy, very wonderfully human children :)

Another Autumn came early into our homeschooling days when, once again, I had to reorganise the ideals I had set myself up for.
The diagnosis was confirmed early on.It was true, and I had to admit it, my children were not cookie cut outs! They were not cogs in my perfectly oiled machine. They made messes at the most impromptu moments....(i.e) right in the middle of the most complex and elaborate matrix of projects, chores and errands to run... Inexplicably?!? They did not always jump for joy at every laboriously laid out plan of mine. Thus our exploration into unschooling began.... And honestly, for those who imagine that we may have found the elusive eternal Summer holiday along this route, I must inform you that Autumn is an annual event round these unschooling provinces too!

Sometimes I have to give more of myself away to the soft earth than I had ever imagined.
There have been days I've noticed only branches grasping the heavens like a pair of empty hands.
And after the lifeless frost.
Cold, opaque, hopeless.

Yet, what great gifts those Autumns have been to me.
Through them, little by little, piece by piece, I am remade.
I have become less judgmental, less harsh on myself and others. I have become softer, gentler, humbler, more content, and ironically closer to that original mother archetype than ever before! Though I had long given up striving to emulate her.

Another great Autumn came during the early days in my relationship with Tani (my husband).
Here is a lovely quote about the story of marriage... from Robert A. Johnson's book "Owning Your Own Shadow"
Mr. Johnson is a noted Jungian analylist, author and lecturer.

"Most marriages in the west begin with a projection, go through a period of disillusionment , and , God willing, become more human, That is to say, they come to be based on the profound reality that is the other person. While i-loveness is close proximity to God, love based on reality serves our humble condition far better."

Johnson goes on to say..." The myth of Tristan and Iseult is played out again and again by every couple in love, yet we have a chance to contribute to its evolution by making a conscious art of relationship. If one could see the splendor of God - in both its light and dark aspects- this experience would not have to end in disillusionment and bitterness."

I suppose I had created an image (idol) of what a perfect marriage should look like just as I had of motherhood. I have to smile ....
Marriage is the great shatterer of illusions isn't it... I really don't know why the only image that comes to mind as I write this is an endless pile of odd, dirty socks on the floor :)

The truth is that in the west we put romantic love on a pedestal.
We have been sold the air brushed, photo shopped, eternally young and beautiful image of romantic love and bought into it hook, line and sinker.
Lust has replaced, good, solid, real,"for better or worse" true, messy and beautiful love.
How many advertisements do you see with the slogan " Bring the spark back into your marriage".
The problem is that the spark is only the beginning. The truth is that those lasting embers that burn on through a stormy night long enough to warm the morning tea are far more sustaining and easier to bear. Sadly many people's relationships are given up on once the (weak but blindingly bright) initial spark has burned itself out, with a cold shower of disillusionment.
Yet the disillusionment is only a brief but necessary transition. It is the beginning of Autumn for a relationship. When we embrace "The Fall" from the celestial heights we can begin work on the roots of a relationship.
This is the work which nurtures and nourishes those places we hide from ourselves and one another.
There we might find that the place of brokeness (truth) is often startlingly close to the place of wholeness (holiness)

I remember exactly how I felt the first time Tani and I had an argument.
I can't for the life of me remember what kicked it off, but to this day I remember the terror.
The terror of staining the pure whiteness of it all! The terror that it wasn't perfect anymore "he" was not perfect "I" in his eyes wasn't perfect... Throw it all to heck! "we" weren't perfect!
Ah the devastation! How could we ever carry on?
I assumed without question that "that must be it then". It was over. All my dreams blown away in smoke.
I had bought into the Hollywood fantasy. Where was my shiny bow wrapped Happily Ever After ?

Happily we did find our ever after....in the end.... After many more Springs and Autumns, in their turn, gently taught us the meaning of what it really means to love.

Every Autumn brought with it a little death.... And ever Spring a rebirth.
And I began to see that love is not linear, it is cyclical, like a wedding ring.
And I began to see that without the little deaths of those Autumns there could be no re birthing come Springtime.

Autumn and Spring are seasons of transition.
They neither carry the heat of Summer or the bitter frost of Winter yet they hold the key that unlocks both.
In their suspension, the times of transition in life almost always the hardest points.
Just ask a mother in labour. Transition (the time of complete cervical dilation that precedes delivery) is always the most overwhelming point in the birthing process.
Yet it is also the most transformative.
It is the very threshold of both the end of one thing and the beginning of something else.
But first comes the letting go.

Only the acceptance of death can embrace the promise of life.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes explores these ideas to a great extent in her analysis of a little known yet potent native Inuit Tale "Skeleton Woman" excerpted from her wonderful "soul epic" "Women Who Run With the Wolves":

"One must face and develop a relationship with the Life/Death/Life nature. When we have that, we are no longer bumbling along fishing for fantasies, but are made wise about the necessary deaths and startling births that create true relationship. When we face Skeleton Woman we learn that passion is not something to go 'get' but rather something generated in cycles and given out. It is Skeleton Woman who demonstrates that a shared living together through all increase and decrease, through all endings and beginnings, is what creates an unparalleled love of devotion.

To understand this story, we have to see that there, in one of the harshest environs and one of the most stressed hunting cultures in the world, love does not mean a flirtation or a pursuit for simple ego-pleasure, but a visible bond composed of the psychic sinew of endurance, a union which prevails through bounty and austerity, through the most complicated and the most simple days and nights. The union of two beings is seen as angakok magic in itself, as a relationship through which "the powers that be" become known to both individuals.

"But there are requirements for this kind of union. In order to create this enduring love, one invites a third partner to the union. The third partner is Skeleton Woman. She is also called Lady Death, and as such, she is the Life/Death/Life nature in one of her many guises. In this form, Lady Death is not a disease, but a deity."

For those who are curious... below is the "whole" story of "Skeleton Woman"

- A Tale of the Inuit -

She had done something of which her father disapproved, although no one any longer remembered what it was. But her father had dragged her to the cliffs and thrown her over and into the sea. There, the fish ate her flesh away and plucked out her eyes. As she lay under the sea, her skeleton turned over and over in the currents.

One day a fisherman came fishing, well, in truth many came to this bay once. But this fisherman had drifted far from his home place and did not know that the local fisherman stayed away, saying this inlet was haunted.

The fisherman's hook drifted down through the water, and caught of all places, in the bones of Skeleton Woman's rib cage. The fisherman thought, "Oh, now I've really got a big one! Now I really have one!" In his mind he was thinking of how many people this great fish would feed, how long it would last, how long he might be free from the chore of hunting. And as he struggled with this great weight on the end of the hook, the sea was stirred to a thrashing froth, and his kayak bucked and shook, for she who was beneath struggled to disentangle herself. And the more she struggled, the more she tangled in the line. No matter what she did, she was inexorably dragged upward, tugged up by the bones of her own ribs.

The hunter had turned to scoop up his net, so he did not see her bald head rise above the waves, he did not see the little coral creatures glinting in the orbs of her skull, he did not see the crustaceans on her old ivory teeth. When he turned back with his net, her entire body, such as it was, had come to the surface and was hanging from the tip of his kayak by her long front teeth.

"Agh!" cried the man, and his heart fell into his knees, his eyes hid in terror on the back of his head, and his ears blazed bright red. "Agh!" he screamed, and knocked her off the prow with his oar and began paddling like a demon toward shoreline. And not realizing she was tangled in his line, he was frightened all the more for she appeared to stand upon her toes while chasing him all the way to shore. No matter which way he zigged his kayak, she stayed right behind, and her breath rolled over the water in clouds of steam, and her arms flailed out as though to snatch him down into the depths.

"Agh!" he wailed as he ran aground. In one leap he was out of his kayak, clutching his fishing stick and running, and the coral white corpse of skeleton woman, still snagged in the fishing line, bumpety-bumped behind right after him. Over the rocks he ran, and she followed. Over the frozen tundra he ran, and she kept right up. Over the meat laid out to dry he ran, cracking it to pieces as his mukluks bore down.

Throughout it all she kept right up, in fact, she grabbed some of the frozen fish as she was dragged behind. This she began to eat, for she had not gorged in a long, long time. Finally, the man reached his snowhouse and dove right into the tunnel and on hands and knees scrabbled his way into the interior. Panting and sobbing he lay there in the dark, his heart a drum, a mighty drum. Safe at last, oh so safe, yes, safe thank the Gods, Raven, yes, thank Raven, yes, and all bountiful Sedna, safe... at...last.

Imagine when he lit his whale oil lamp, there she - it - lay in a tumble upon his snow floor, one heel over her shoulder, one knee inside her rib cage, one foot over her elbow. He could not say later what it was, perhaps the firelight softened her features, or the fact that he was a lonely man... but a feeling of some kindness came into his breathing, and slowly he reached out his grimy hands and using words softly like a mother to child, began to untangle her from the fishing line.

"Oh, na, na, na." First he untangled the toes, then the ankles. "Oh, na, na, na." On and on he worked into the night, until dressing her in furs to keep her warm, Skeleton Woman's bones were all in the order a human's should be.

He felt into his leather cuffs for his flint and used some of his hair to light a little more fire. He gazed at her from time to time as he oiled the precious wood of his fishing stick and rewound the gut line. And she in the furs uttered not a word - she did not dare - lest this hunter take her out and throw her down to the rocks and break her bones to pieces utterly.

The man became drowsy, slid under his sleeping skins, and soon was dreaming. And sometimes as humans sleep, you know, a tear escapes from the dreamer's eye; we never know what sort of dream causes this, but we know it is either a dream of sadness or longing. And this is what happened to the man.

Skeleton Woman saw the tear glisten in the firelight and she became suddenly soooo thirsty. She tinkled and clanked and crawled over to the sleeping man and put her mouth to his tear. The single tear was like a river and she drank and drank and drank until her many-years-long thirst was slaked.

While lying beside him, she reached inside the sleeping man and took out his heart, the mighty drum. She sat up and banged on both sides of it: Bom Bomm!.....Bom Bomm!

As she drummed, she began to sing out "Flesh, flesh, flesh! Flesh, Flesh, Flesh!" And the more she sang, the more her body filled out with flesh. She sang for hair and good eyes and nice fat hands. She sang the divide between her legs, and breasts long enough to wrap for warmth, and all the things a woman needs.

And when she was all done, she also sang the sleeping man's clothes off and crept into his bed with him, skin against skin. She returned the great drum, his heart, to his body, and that is how they awakened, wrapped one around the other, tangled from their night, in another way now, a good and lasting way.

The people who cannot remember how she came to her first ill fortune say she and the fisherman went away and were consistently well fed by the creatures she had known in her life under water. The people say that it is true and that is all they know.

Some "Imperfect Links" .... embracing ourselves and one another as we are

2011-09-10T01:10:00.000-07:00

journaling our days.... a ramble and a note :)

2011-09-07T09:06:00.000-07:00

I just wanted to pop in thank everyone who stopped by during my poetry month :)
I appreciate all your lovely comments!!!
But I have to say one thing...
I know I have this on my comments but I just wanted to reiterate.
I absolutely love to blog and visit blogs.
For me it is akin to drawing up a couple of chairs and pouring out the earl grey....
In this age of disintegrating communities and shrinking extended families the connections I've made through this silly little blog of mine feel completly real and surprisingly strong.
I have laughed with, cried with, prayed for, and even exchanged real, genuine snail mail letters with many of you and you mean the world to me.
Often you pop up in my mind during the days and I smile at the thought :)

It's my hands though, they are so FULL!
Full with joy and craziness and love and mess and beauty and little bundles of baby goodness...Full with goodness, still filled all the same.
So please forgive me for not being able to respond as quickly or as often as I would wish to comments and e-mails.
I just wanted to say that. Get it out there! It's been on my mind quite a bit and I just wanted to write it out with a big hug and a warm smile :) to all those who I've know for quite some time and those new friends too:)

August was so very busy for us. We had family visit from the States and Tani had his holiday which we made the most of. Life has been a whirlwind and I'm still catching my breath!
I'm hoping to get back to a little bit of blogging now and again soon :) And looking forward to catching up with your beautiful blogs too! When time allows...

I've decided that now I have four girls enrolled in our home school I'm going to start writing a slightly more detailed journal of our days whenever possible.

The thing with homeschooling *sans* curriculum is that though it is *wonderful* it is also incredibly unpredictable and difficult to qualify in concrete terms.
There are no volumes of written work to catalog and no textbooks to check off, no tests to mark and no record of all the projects or books we have journeyed through.
So here I will begin with my first "snippet". I hope these "snippets" will prove to be useful little "post it notes to self" when ever I feel like "we're not really doing much of anything" :)

So today is Wednesday September the 7th ...
After morning chores Nola was tired and needed settling from the get go so Emmy took over and refreshed everyone on the stories we had already read in the Bible Book we had begun reading through chronologically last term.
Nola had her nap as we practiced singing our Latin hymns.... Mmm, yes 9:15 is the wrong time for the Angelus but it is just so very beautiful to begin the day with :)
We always read the benedictus in the morning too. The girls are begining to memorise quite a bit of Latin and prayersfrom the "Office" almost without realising it. Emmy was so excited the other week when she read "Et Verbum Caro Factum Est" along the alter of an old church and was able to translate it for her Grandma!
I think learning is best done incrementally, I also think that practical application of learning is essential for kids so that whatever work they are undertaking holds meaning and purpose for them.
There is nothing more difficult than trudging through purposeless, or seemingly purposeless work. It's hard enough for us grown ups :)
Singing Latin hymns is fun and beautiful and it gives the children a reason to learn the language. It also makes it relevant. More than this though it is an easy way to get a grasp on the grammatical "feel" of the language.
I must admit to being one of those who lament the demise of the Latin mass. When we sing in Latin a sacred space is created. A "sacred" language uncommon to our everyday banalities elevates the words to a higher order, a different realm. In actual fact, when I compared the original Latin rendition of Veni Sancte Spiritus to the far more flowery English Translation with Emmy it was clear how wonderfully concise, pure and balanced the Latin seemed in comparison to it's rather clumsy Anglo counterpart.
There are moments throughout our days where we have to dip ourselves in the golden hues of sacredness. Of course there is no part of life that God does not touch. Indeed I believe He is particularly present in the hard graft and grime, the simple and humble tasks of ordinary work. However, there is a place for the transcendent glimpses and a little bit of Latin chant seems to fit that bill pretty perfectly :)

Okay onto other things :)... Rambling I know :) There is time for little other than the unedited scribblings of a befrazzled Mama here I'm 'fraid ;) I know you nice people understand :)

Okay, Boo has this thing where sometimes she pretends she just can't do something by herself, for herself, even something very simple. She admits she does this especially when she wants my attention. Yesterday she was approaching me every couple of minutes while I was helping the littles even though I had spend about 20 minutes one on one with her before moving along to the next little person.
It ended up with quite a few tears on both sides :(
This morning I reminded her how the day was a brand new piece of canvas and we could paint whatever kind of picture we wanted on it. She liked that idea very much and so did I.
So she got down to reading her atlas book which she has been avidly devouring of late. I gave her the cardboard circle from the bottom of a pizza and she began drawing a map of the earth. It was a little disjointed and proportionally questionable but the concentration and effort she put into it were lesson worthy in and of themselves.
We decided that it might be fun to paint and research a country at a time. Today she was working on the Northern Andes. And had fun writing down bullet pointed facts in an orderly fashion :)
Fina spent the morning making her own alphabet book for the letter C and playing with her geometric shapes. These geometric shapes are one of the best things we have ever bought the kids, they spend happy hour upon hour building patterns and pictures with them!
Tilly sat with Fina and I reading and copying out a few fun sentences. Then she drew pictures of the sentences to illustrate them.
Nola was awake by this time dribbling a nice wet puddle through my sleeve :) The girls went outside for a break and Nola ate some mashed fruit and slathered the leftovers all over her newly donned undribblised sleep suit....
Emmy had spent the morning researching Air craft history for cadets and reading in her bedroom. Soon she makes her way downstairs, scuffing the steps -one- at- a -time in the nonchalant way that can only mean she is a teen :) and we have a cup of tea to the sound of squealing, jumping trampoline girls bobbing up and down through the kitchen window.

I put a couple of cartons of tomato soup in a pot and warm a small loaf of bread in the oven.
Nola is busily gurgling out giggles as she wriggles on her blanket and gnaws her own hand intently while Emmy plays tickling games with her.

After lunch Emmy and the girls begin to make "Easy No knead Dough Irish Soda Bread". Fina gets over zealous making a "pond" in the flour mix and soon there is a floor full of flour!
Ahhh, great excuse to hoover at last :) As I grab for a dishcloth I notice the withered petals of a little lavender flower upon the penny jar. It is not the bright luminous purple it was, but the ethereal faded beauty of it's age reminds me of the dignity time can bestow even when all seems apparently falling apart!
Isn't it true that the petals need to fall before the seeds can be released?... Only once the pollen gives itself up to the Autumn breeze can a single flower become a garden.... I close my eyes and whisper a prayer that that my garden is growing even in the momentary seasons of decomposition!
So of course, the soda bread experiment begins again once flour and tears are mopped up.
Once the soda bread is out of the oven, Tilly and Fina go to their rooms with a pile of books and a couple of simple toys.
Nola and I snuggle up on my bed for a rest too. How I love and cherish these moments we spend together, just her and I.
I look deep into her blueberry eyes, trace my gaze across the soft fuzz of hair behind her delicate pink ear.
She blows raspberries with great seriousness.
I hold her busy little hands away from her mouth and eyelids slowly begin to close over those sweet sky blueberry eyes.
I read a little of this luminous little book and soon fall into a hazy sleep too.

About an hour later Fina trundles into my room and Nola begins kicking and babbling about again in delight to see her sister.
Fina is dressed as a princess. She is armed with a pink, fluffy wand and is with sugar sweet smiles and a squeaky, treacle voice threatening without mercy to turn us all into a family of rabbits who live under the blankets!
Tilly emerges from her room and flops down a little grumpy, sleep infused, red cheeked thing with ragamuffin hair, who has absolutely no intention of being a rabbit today, or any other day and lets us know this in no uncertain terms :)
Still half asleep she collects the little Celtic lap harp from the shelf and soon I can hear the soft tingle of strings in the next room. All the girls find playing the lap harp very therapeutic. It is a wonderfully calming instrument that sounds gentle on the ears even in the hands of the smallest amateur.

Soon I find out that Emmy and Boo have been designing recipes downstairs. I agree to buy the ingredients for them next time we go shopping so they can bring their culinary concepts to life.

Emmy practises her piano.
Fina plays with her shapes on the carpet.
I feed Nola and Boo takes her recorder and recorder book upstairs.
I suggest that while she's in a musical mood she might help Tilly play a few notes while she's at it!
Soon Tilly comes down flushed with pride and plays me a line of notes from her book! I am amazed! Before the Summer holidays she could only play the notes A and B. Now She plays all the way to note E! What alchemy has caused this in six short weeks I cannot tell, though maybe it has something to do with having nothing but the simple freedom and space required for new knowledge to assimilate and settle. What a beautiful, natural and gentle way to learn!

We have a big tidy up and Emmy bounces the baby on her knee while I wash up and serve up her lovely Irish soda bread with lashing of butter and jam, cheese and apple on the side with seed topped yogurt and juice for dessert.

Everyone comes to the kitchen to eat. Nola has some apple porridge. I enjoy a warm milky tea and get a movie ready for after dinner.

Right now Tani is reading the girls a bedtime story and I am typing up this post...

Wow, can't believe I finally got to the end of our day...
I bet you can't believe you did too!
Sorry. I guess our days are sometimes more filled to the brim than I realise!

Well before I go... I thought I'd share a few pictures of Nola all dressed snug in her hand knit Autumn woollies.

And did I mention she's eating solids now :)
Here are some pictures of her first meal of baby rice.

Well 'bout time to go I think :) It's lovely and drizzly and grey outside. I'm going to go downstairs make a hot tea, light some candles, get out my knitting and have a chat with Tani I think.
Take Care,
xx

{from The Hymn of Jesus} from the Acts of John.... concluding a month of poetry...

2011-08-31T00:51:00.000-07:00

I want to be saved... and I want to save. Amen.
I want to be set free... and I want to free. Amen.
I want to be born... and I want to give birth. Amen.
I want to hear... and I want to be heard.
Sweetness dances. I want to pipe; all of you dance. Amen.
I want to run away... and I want to stay. Amen.
I want to make you beautiful... and I want to be beautiful.
Amen.
I want to join with you... and I want to be joined. Amen.

I have no house... and I have houses. Amen.
I have no ground... and I have ground. Amen.
I have no temple... and I have temples...Amen.
If you look at me... I will be a lamp. Amen.
If you see me... I will be a mirror. Amen.
If you knock on me... I will be a door. Amen.
If you are a traveller... I will be a road. Amen.
This is my dance... Answer me with dancing.

{Crab in a Polystyrene Crate}... a month of poetry...

2011-08-30T04:36:00.000-07:00

You are spiking rocks green-fed
in flaking ice-bed so far from
your tepid rock-pool mouth
with its tender fringe of algae.

Crab in a polystyrene crate,
your eyes are still so impossibly small,
but does your side coded disc-brain, ridged,
remember minnow crushing Sundays,

your sisters' hands like stinging orchids
as they were lifted in the swash?
Discs on a dead sailor's femur,
humpbacked quicksteps.

Dead crab in a polystyrene crate,
for sale on the market stall -
do the eels beside you sometimes writhe
through their rubber death damp?

Ask you why you didn't try harder
to snap the ropes,
un-net the nets?

Amy Blakemore

{Sacred Summer Forest Poetry} ....a post revisited from last Summer... a month of poetry...

2011-08-29T09:58:00.000-07:00

Sleeping in the Forest ~ Mary Oliver

I thought the earth remembered me,

she
took me back so tenderly,

arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.

I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts,

and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees.

All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me,

the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell,

as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom.

By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

The Sun ~ Mary Oliver

Have you ever seen
anything
in your life
more wonderful

than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon

and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone--
and how it slides again

out of the blackness,
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on its heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance--
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love--
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you

as you stand there,
empty-handed--
or have you too
turned from this world--
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?
I Looked Up ~ Mary Oliver

I looked up and there it was
among the green branches of the pitchpines—

thick bird,
a ruffle of fire trailing over the shoulders and down the back—

color of copper, iron, bronze—
lighting up the dark branches of the pine.

What misery to be afraid of death.
What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.

When I made a little sound
it looked at me, then it looked past me.

Then it rose, the wings enormous and opulent,

and, as I said, wreathed in fire.

Last Night While I was Sleeping ~ Antonio Machado

Last night, as I was sleeping,

I dreamt -- marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?
Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt -- marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt -- marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.

It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night, as I slept,
I dreamt -- marvelous error!—

that it was God I had
here inside my heart.

{O the Wild Trees of my Home}.... a month of poetry...

2011-08-28T08:22:00.000-07:00

O the wild trees of my home,
forests of blue dividing the pink moon,
the iron blue of those ancient branches
with their berries of vermillion stars.

In that place of steep meadows
the stacked sheaves are roasting,
and the sun-torn tulips
are tinders of scented ashes.
But here I have lost
the dialect of your hills,
my tongue has gone blind
far from their limestone roots.
Through trunks of black elder
runs a fox like a lantern,
and the hot grasses sing
with the slumber of larks.

But here there are thickets

of many different gestures

torn branches of brick and steel
frozen against the sky
O the wild trees of home
with their sounding dresses,
locks powdered with butterflies
and cheeks of blue moss.
I want to see you rise
from my brain’s dry river,
I want your lips of wet roses
laid over my eyes.
O fountains of earth and rock,
gardens perfumed with cucumber,
home of the secret valleys
where the wild trees grow.
let me return at last
to your fertile wilderness,
to sleep with the coild fernleaves
in your heart’s live stone.

— Laurie Lee, The Wild Trees

{I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings}...a month of poetry...

2011-08-24T06:57:00.000-07:00

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

Photo Credit

{Two love Poems} ... a month of poetry...

2011-08-21T04:22:00.000-07:00

Two poems that speak of the often unnoticed yet irreplaceable qualities that characterise attachment and love between two people.

To Dorothy

You are not beautiful, exactly.

You are beautiful, inexactly.

You let a weed grow by the mulberry

and a mulberry grow by the house.

So close, in the personal quiet

of a windy night, it brushes the wall

and sweeps away the day till we sleep.

A child said it, and it seemed true:

“Things that are lost are all equal.”

But it isn’t true. If I lost you,

the air wouldn’t move, nor the tree grow.

Someone would pull the weed, my flower.

The quiet wouldn’t be yours. If I lost you,

I’d have to ask the grass to let me sleep.

—Marvin Bell

and one similar....

She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mosy tone
Half hidden from the eye!
---Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!

~William Wordsworth

{{Two poems by Holly Mcnish}... a month of poetry....

2011-08-19T00:17:00.000-07:00

"Love Languages" had me laugh out loud! Be careful if littles are around when you watch this though as it has one spelled out naughty word in it and some edgy content!

This one just took me back a few years to how I felt after Emmy was born... Some wonderful classic Glastonbury atmostphere captured here!

{a small dragon} ... a month of poetry...

2011-08-17T06:14:00.000-07:00

I found a small dragon in the woodshed

Think it must have come from deep inside a forest
because it's damp and green and leaves
are still reflecting in its eyes.

I fed it on many things, tried grass,
the roots of stars, hazel-nut and dandelion,
but it stared up at me as if to say, I need
food you can't provide.

It made a nest among the coal,
not unlike a bird's but larger,
it is out of place here
and is quite silent.

If you believed in it I would come
hurrying to your house to let you share my wonder,
but I want instead to see
if you yourself will pass this way.

Brian Patten

Photo Credit

{Lucinda Matlock}... a month of poetry....

2011-08-15T06:20:00.002-07:00

I went to the dances at Chandlerville,

And played snap-out at Winchester.

One time we changed partners,

Driving home in the moonlight of middle June,

And then I found Davis.

We were married and lived together for seventy years,

Enjoying, working, raising the twelve children,

Eight of whom we lost

Ere I had reached the age of sixty.

I spun, I wove, I kept the house, I nursed the sick,

I made the garden, and for holiday

Rambled over the fields where sang the larks,

And by Spoon River gathering many a shell,

And many a flower and medicinal weed—

Shouting to the wooded hills, singing to the green valleys.

At ninety-six I had lived enough, that is all,

And passed to a sweet repose.

What is this I hear of sorrow and weariness,

Anger, discontent and drooping hopes?

Degenerate sons and daughters,

Life is too strong for you—

It takes life to love Life.

Edgar Lee Masters

photo credit

{If you want to build a ship}.... A month of poetry...

2011-08-14T00:39:00.000-07:00

{Warning}... a month of poetry...

2011-08-12T20:21:00.000-07:00

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Jenny Joseph

photo credit "Grandma's Hands"

The Riots.... Why did this happen?

2011-08-12T13:08:00.001-07:00

After watching young voters question time this evening I just felt compelled to share my thoughts on the rioting that has taken place over many cities across the UK....

There are many avenues for blame, Parents, Schools, the Government... are but a few that have been mentioned on the news and in the papers.

Essentially above and beyond maybe any of these, may be the widening division between the social, economic and cultural facets of our communities.

Community is fragmenting.

Young people are being given no sense of belonging. No sense of future security.

Without a role in society, one that is valued, there can be no strong sense of allegiance or responsibility to that society. There is no stake. Nothing to lose. Without solid foundations of future security the transitory moment takes precedence. Long term goals are traded for short term gains.

There is certainly a growing sense of dis-empowerment and disenfranchisement in poorer communities over recent years.
The biggest voice many vulnerable young people have is as targets of amusement and bemusement on reality television shows.

Equally relevant is the clear discrepancy between how corporations, banks and politicians are treated for their crimes in comparison to the way young people from deprived backgrounds are treated. This disproportional "justice" only adds to the general feeling of disillusionment young people already have with institutions from banks to churches, to schools, to governments.

Spending on youth services, family services and children's services has been slashed since the conservative government came into power. These cuts obviously effect the poorest members of our society the most. Once again the most vulnerable are made accountable for the crimes of the powerful and elite. In lowering benefits, shortening council house tenancies, raising tuition fees... Poorer families have to extend themselves so much further just to tick the basics off the list.
We live in a rented council house and receive tax credits and although we are no way among the poorest of families I can't imagine that any of my girls will go to a traditional university. It saddens me to say this but the fees are just too high and not something we can afford. To start their lives off with huge amounts of debt is not a prospect I relish for them either, in fact it is one I hope, wholeheartedly they avoid.

But what I find most contention with is the blaming of parents.

We live in a pressure cooker of a society.... When is someone going to actually admit this!

When a young mother has to have 3 jobs to simply survive there is something going deeply wrong somewhere.
When people are mired in a lifetime of debt, simply to have the luxury of a roof over their head something is going deeply wrong somewhere.
When a family cannot raise itself without both parents working all hours so they don't even have enough time to connect with one another something is going deeply wrong somewhere.

Parents from a deprived background can't afford all the activities, resources and experiences that the wealthy can. These days with the economic pressures the struggle to find our children a place, a role, a sense of value and a reasonably comfortable seat in the assembly is running at a premium. The increasing "ghettoising" of schools and the catchment area lotteries are just one example of the pushing and shoving involved in raising children these days.

The children from deprived areas are simply born at a disadvantage. Why can no one admit this!

Families, particularly poorer families are struggling to keep up. There is little to no network of support, extended family, elders in the community... let alone anyone willing and able to take a little of the load without a fee to match the weight of it.

Everyone is simply too run off their feet to invest themselves emotionally, financially or physically in their communities. It's often hard enough to find the time for our own families at the end of a 10 hour day.

Blaming parents is easy. The problem is structural.

Our focus is off centre. Family needs to be the focus. Supporting parents, families and children should be the priority of any country.

More often than not family and childhood... in the traditional sense of what the word childhood means... are having to be sidelined in favour of simply trying to make it up the ladder. Things "Stuff" has replaced, connections, experiences and relationships.

Yes, hard work pays off and we need to give young people a sense of responsibility and accountability for their own lives but we keep them bottled up for so long and then at aged 21 expect them to suddenly "get it". Get what it takes to stand alone, without initiation, the wisdom of elders and often little to no "real life" experiences ...

When young people are pushed and shoved through every hoop and test and exam we can throw at them only to watch their hopes and dreams are dash against the ***ever rising and impossible to live up to competition*** before they have even begun... something is going deeply wrong somewhere.
When we glamorise violence in movies and video games and sanction public acts of humiliation in reality TV shows, yet expect our youth not to take their cues, something is going deeply wrong somewhere.
We say that Gordon Ramsay is allowed to vent dismaying amounts of anger, arrogance and cruelty to some unfortunate 21 year old sous chef on his first job simply because he can... Simon Cowell can extinguish a kid's love of singing his heart out in one stone cold dry sentence... Celebrities in "The Apprentice" back stab and undercut one another without a single shred of conscience.... And we can all snicker at the poor chat show "mutton dressed as lamb" ex show girl on Jerry Springer.... Yes it is all very entertaining and we are always glad it is not us at the receiving end, maybe we actually believe we are above it all.... But what is this teaching our children?
It teaches them that those that grab and grasp and claw their way to the top are life's winners. Those that back stab and fight and step on others make their dreams come true.
Those that take what they can when they can, put other's down, put the job before ethics and the rules before what is right, true, noble and good, ultimately succeed in this broken world of ours.

No the riots were not right. They were tragic, frightening and disturbing.
No there is no excuse for the violence the crowd unleashed upon the police.
Yet sadly, maybe this is illustrative of why it is so important that we get our priorities right where young people are concerned. There is a sense of meaningless for a lot of young people these days.

Ultimately they need a strength of vision. One they can really believe in. One that gives "real" not counterfeit meaning and hope to their life in this world.
Then they need the simple food of familial and community support, love and wisdom to pass it along to the generations to come.

Our children and their childhoods have got to start coming first.

Some interesting points raised by the Archbishop of Caterbury regarding the riots...

A little more about me then...

2011-08-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

My Dad was a horticulturalist. Whenever he introduced himself to people he would say "I paint with a spade".

My earliest memory is with a paint brush in my hand, mixing blue and yellow paint on a canvas to paint a picture of my mother and I together.
To this day my favourite colours are yellow and turquoise blue.
I always wanted to be an artist as a child.
I thought I'd have to give up on that dream when I became pregnant at 18 and had to leave art college.
As the years have gone by, five children later, I see that maybe I have been an artist in my own way all along.

.
.
.

I create every day.

I create warm spaces in our small (sometimes messy) but happy home.
I create with my children, and I find my own childish wonderment reawakened in a handful of sand or clay or perhaps a brush steeped in deliciously thick paint.
I create at my sewing machine and upon my knitting needles and take much pleasure in making clothes and simple, natural toys for my girls using organic materials.
I create a garden, both literally and figuratively. I pull out the daily weeds, turn soil, plant seeds and somehow with the help of His hand beauty grows from the ground where we stand.
But most of all I hope I'm creating memories that in the years to come my children, my husband and I will treasure.

When the house stills and time is on my side I come to this quiet place and record a few of these.
My hope is that I also create a sunny little spot here for you to sit a while. Please feel free to kick off your shoes and feel the green grass beneath your feet, gaze up at the turquoise blue sky above and soak up a few scraps of gentle evening yellow starlight as you pass along the way by.

A random list of things I love

Latte with my girl on a Saturday morning
Babies dressed in old fashioned layettes and bonnets
Simple Kindness
Compassion
Sincerity
The Stories of King Arthur
Chivalry
Children's Picture Books
Trips to the Seaside
Secret woodlands ankle deep in bluebells and primroses
..Places you can get lost in
Art Nouveau
Impressionism
Expressionism
Mucha's Garden Ladies
Monet's Water Lilies
Van Gogh's swirling stars in pools of deep blue
Poetry...of any kind what so ever.
The words... I love you
Prayers by candle light
Old statues of our Lady dressed in blue, white and gold.
Pictures of Jesus with children all around him
Old lace
Regency dresses
Nuns in full habit
Latin chant
Vespers
An evening at Covent Garden watching the ballet
A glass of champagne on a Summer's day
Fresh cut grass
Apple orchards
Berry picking
Pies baking
Hanging baskets dripping with flowers
Meadows ragged with thigh deep wild grasses
Wooden clothespegs and cotton reels
A basket full of beautiful soft yarn still smelling of the green grass, the bracken and the fleece
Lambs frisking
Daffodils nodding happy in the breeze
The first tender green leaves of Spring
The first golden tinged Autumn ones
The scent of a babies head
Handmade dolls and knitted animals
A full morning to write
A white canvas
A crisp, blank page
An afternoon nap
Homemade quilts and blankets
A sunset, a glass of red wine and the shoulder of one I love to lean on.
A dream that enlivens the spirit
An inspiration that quickens the heart
A conversation that awakens perspective.
A good man who loves me
A home brimming with the laughter and noise of children.

{Among Children}... a month of poetry...

2011-08-11T07:58:00.000-07:00

In honour of Philip Levine being named next American poet Laureate... I thought I'd post one of his most well known poems... "Among Children"

I walk among the rows of bowed heads–
the children are sleeping through fourth grade
so as to be ready for what is ahead,
the monumental boredom of junior high
and the rush forward tearing their wings
loose and turning their eyes forever inward.
These are the children of Flint, their fathers
work at the spark plug factory or truck
bottled water in 5 gallon sea-blue jugs
to the widows of the suburbs. You can see
already how their backs have thickened,
how their small hands, soiled by pig iron,
leap and stutter even in dreams. I would like
to sit down among them and read slowly
from The Book of Job until the windows
pale and the teacher rises out of a milky sea
of industrial scum, her gowns streaming
with light, her foolish words transformed
into song, I would like to arm each one
with a quiver of arrows so that they might
rush like wind there where no battle rages
shouting among the trumpets, Hal Ha!
How dear the gift of laughter in the face
of the 8 hour day, the cold winter mornings
without coffee and oranges, the long lines
of mothers in old coats waiting silently
where the gates have closed. Ten years ago
I went among these same children, just born,
in the bright ward of the Sacred Heart and leaned
down to hear their breaths delivered that day,
burning with joy. There was such wonder
in their sleep, such purpose in their eyes
dosed against autumn, in their damp heads
blurred with the hair of ponds, and not one
turned against me or the light, not one
said, I am sick, I am tired, I will go home,
not one complained or drifted alone,
unloved, on the hardest day of their lives.
Eleven years from now they will become
the men and women of Flint or Paradise,
the majors of a minor town, and I
will be gone into smoke or memory,
so I bow to them here and whisper
all I know, all I will never know.

Philip Levine

{Maybe}... A Month of Poetry

2011-08-09T00:06:00.000-07:00

Sweet Jesus, talking
his melancholy madness,
stood up in the boat
and the sea lay down,

silky and sorry.
So everybody was saved
that night.
But you know how it is
when something
different crosses
the threshold -- the uncles
mutter together,
the women walk away,
the young brother begins
to sharpen his knife.
Nobody knows what the soul is.
It comes and goes
like the wind over the water --
sometimes, for days,
you don't think of it.

Maybe, after the sermon,
after the multitude was fed,
one or two of them felt
the soul slip forth

like a tremor of pure sunlight
before exhaustion,
that wants to swallow everything,
gripped their bones and left them
miserable and sleepy,
as they are now, forgetting
how the wind tore at the sails
before he rose and talked to it --
tender and luminous and demanding
as he always was --
a thousand times more frightening
than the killer storm.

Mary Oliver

{At first she came to me pure} ... a month of poetry

2011-08-06T05:47:00.000-07:00

At first she came to me pure,
dressed only in her innocence;
and I loved her as we love a child.

Then she began putting on
clothes she picked up somewhere;
and I hated her, without knowing it.

She gradually became a queen,
the jewelry was blinding...
What bitterness and rage!

...She started going back towards nakedness.
And I smiled.

Soon she was back to the single shift
of her old innocence.
I believed in her a second time.

Then she took off the cloth
and was entirely naked...

Naked poetry, always mine,
that I have loved my whole life.

Juan Ramon Jimenez

...And so maybe it is with a soul's journey too.

A Soulful Life

This Moment

Sharing some links and thoughts on rest and growth

John Lubbock

a birthday ramble

Moving to the woods... For those who keep dreaming

Growing girls...

Matilda's Ballet Tute...

Silent

"Britain's Chinese Tiger Mothers" some thoughts ...

Peace

Modeling

beauty as breathing

Amish Inspired Ponderings

2011 in pictures...

Pieces of Christmas...

following the star

Winter post

{Yarn Along}

Making and Creating...A quiet advent and a homemade Christmas!!!

Without the bond of relationship...

...in response...

{This Moment}

The Christmas Story

{Yarn Along} ... and a giveaway winner!!!

{This Moment}

Imperfect Prose on Thursday....

{Yarn Along} ...and a giveaway!

{This Moment}

{Imperfect Prose}... on Thursdays...

{Yarn Along} A project complete!

a little bit of this and that...

Avett Brothers "Head Full of Doubt"

{This Moment}

Are you a weary Mama of little ones?

Simple Autumnal Pleasures {multitudes on monday}

Making A Seasonal Collage...{Saturday Artist} ...

{This Moment} heaven

{Yarn Along}... The Handless Maiden

Self Portrait Tuesday

Happy Things... Multitudes on a Monday

..and I'll give her melodies...

Homeschool Meme

{This Moment}

{Yarn Along}...with Janet and John :)

Multitudes on a Monday... A Soulful Summer...

{This Moment}

{Yarn Along}

Embracing Autumn... and other Life, Death, Life Cycles

Some "Imperfect Links" .... embracing ourselves and one another *as we are*

journaling our days.... a ramble and a note :)

{from The Hymn of Jesus} from the Acts of John.... concluding a month of poetry...

{Crab in a Polystyrene Crate}... a month of poetry...

{Sacred Summer Forest Poetry} ....a post revisited from last Summer... a month of poetry...

{O the Wild Trees of my Home}.... a month of poetry...

O the wild trees of my home, forests of blue dividing the pink moon, the iron blue of those ancient branches with their berries of vermillion stars.

But here there are thickets

of many different gestures

{I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings}...a month of poetry...

{Two love Poems} ... a month of poetry...

{{Two poems by Holly Mcnish}... a month of poetry....

{a small dragon} ... a month of poetry...

{Lucinda Matlock}... a month of poetry....

{If you want to build a ship}.... A month of poetry...

{Warning}... a month of poetry...

The Riots.... Why did this happen?

A little more about me then...

{Among Children}... a month of poetry...

{Maybe}... A Month of Poetry

{At first she came to me pure} ... a month of poetry

Some "Imperfect Links" .... embracing ourselves and one another as we are

O the wild trees of my home,
forests of blue dividing the pink moon,
the iron blue of those ancient branches
with their berries of vermillion stars.