Books, Summer Food, Fireflies, and Remembering Things

::Summer reading is in full swing, and it seems like a lot of our books are ones we've already read!  I'm reading The End of the Affair, which I last read what feels a lifetime ago, when I was pregnant with Zosia.  It's beautiful, well written, and insightful, and luckily my memory is so bad that I feel as though I were reading it for the first time!  Ben is reading The Hobbit, which seems perfectly fitting given that we're about to embark upon our own adventure (and for the record, Ben remembers books perfectly, but will often choose to reread a book simply because he knows he likes it).  We're reading The Penderwicks at Point Mouette with the girls, which really, truly is the *perfect* book for summer (although if you're new to this series, start at the beginning!).  And the babies love anything with animals: I Am A bunny is a favorite along with Oh What a Busy Day!  I seriously could read these really good children's books again every single day and never grow tired of them.

 ::No clue where Clara found these, but she insists upon wearing them often.  Given the fact that she is usually our style maven, I am going to have to find her something a little more chic, or she will never forgive me!

::There is something about losing someone close to you which forces you to re-examine a lot of things about your life.  Am I doing things right?  Are there things I would look back upon my life and regret?  Am I spending my time and energy on the things that matter the most in life?  Ben and I have had so many wonderful, fruitful, and soul searching conversations over the past few weeks, which I will always hold in a special place in my heart.  One random thing that we both agreed upon is that we would like to be more intentional about remembering special days (birthdays, anniversaries) of loved ones.  Truth be told, we are usually so scatter brained, we're lucky to remember our own childrens' birthdays!  A few days after we had the conversation, a birthday calendar arrived in the mail, which Ben has hung up in our kitchen.  I am feeling so good about this resolution, and am hoping we will do a better job of remembering and celebrating the people we love most!

::One thing I love about living in a place which such distinct seasons is that I notice that the way we eat shifts so drastically from season to season.  We're definitely not strict "seasonal eaters" "local eaters" "organic eaters" or anything else that fancy (whew, looking at our run of the mill grocery bill, I'm having a hard time imagining how people swing that sort of thing!), but we do buy food that is ripe and cheap, and as close to whole as possible. We also avoid using the oven on hot days (or use it extra on cold days!) which means that desserts in particular are either chilled or unbaked in the summer.  This morning I threw together some chilled granola bars loosely based on this recipe (reeaaaally loosely, but they turned out fine!), and they were a big hit with the kids.  And don't worry, I made sure to even out that half of a granola bar up there-- that's what moms are for, right? (Oh, and Clara prefers to feed herself these days.  I think you'll agree she seems pretty capable!).

::When Ben and I were newly married, we started gathering up National Geographic field guides.  If we saw one in a thrift store, we would buy it.  We would buy one for one another for Christmas.  By the time the kids came around, we had a bona fide collection, and it's one of the best purchases we've ever made.  I love that as our kids become interested in nature, they have easy access to beautiful pictures and facts to help their exploration.  One Father's Day or birthday or something I bought Ben a bird feeder, and I would say that is one of my other best long term purchases.  He's actually really diligent about keeping it filled, and we are graced with the loveliest variety of birds, and the kids really enjoy trying to identify each one!  

:: The season of fireflies is upon us!  I have distinct childhood memories of catching fireflies in the summer, and love watching my own little ones participating in the seasonal ritual.

I still can't quite believe in only two weeks we'll be on another coast entirely.  Are there fireflies in California?  I sure hope so.  I imagine we'll be discovering a new set of wonders out there, but in the meantime, I am savoring every last moment right where we are.

Some Leisure Reading

Throughout the week, Ben is always sending me interesting articles he comes across.  I always read them, and they're usually really good!  So I thought I would share a few favorites from the past couple of weeks.

Here's an article that talks about sleep as a competitive advantage (as opposed to thinking of working extra long hours as the competitive advantage).  And if you think it's ironic to be writing about sleep when I have two babies in the house, you should look at this Ted talk about how we naturally sleep (Spoiler: it's not in a single stretch of eight consecutive hours!).  Mothers of nursing babies, you have to read it!  It will make you much more chill about that 2 am feeding.

I loved this article called Masters of Love.  It has some wonderful thoughts about ways to have a lasting, successful, marriage.  Years ago, when a newly engaged friend asked us for our best marriage advice, Ben had an immediate answer: Always assume positive intent.  Is your spouse late?  Messy?  Grumpy?  Did (s)he leave underwear on the floor in the bathroom?  The answer is the same: assume positive intent.  "Ah yes, a hermeneutic of generosity," our friend responded, which is a beautiful way of putting it.  Whatever you're going to call it, I strive every single day to live it out with Ben, with our kids, and with whoever I might come across.  It will change the way you look at the world.

This is exactly how I feel when I think about these babies growing up!  This little girl has captured my emotions to a T.  The best part is when the baby smiles at his sobbing sister.

Have you guys watched Bob's Burgers (link to one of our favorite episodes)?  It is a seriously funny adult show (definitely not for kiddos!), and I think you'll find the characters just as silly as we do.  Here's an interview with the cast which you should look at after you've watched a couple of episodes. Can you believe the way they cast those voice actors?

And here's some research that supports what I think many parents already know: it's play that makes kids smarter, not classroom time.  And with that, carry on with all of your summer adventures!

We're taking a bit of a technology break these coming days: looking forward to dropping in soon!

Yarn Along

Playing along with Ginny this week... I'm afraid there's been more reading than knitting going on in these parts, partly giving testament to how captivating this book is. Really! You should check it out. But I have been thinking about Christmas knitting, and thought this pink would make a perfect hat for a little girl in the house.... maybe this week?

How did it go?

Us Collins girls were on our own last night-- with Papa Bear taking a quick business trip up north, we held down the fort, a first since Lily joined our family. And we did our best to make it a special evening, although there's no denying the home felt empty without our most beloved member arriving home for dinner. We had some friends over, had a real dinner with the table set, had a little forbidden candy for desert, took a long bath, and spent twice our usual allocated time having a "family snuggle" in Ben and my bed. But the truth is, all my efforts didn't fool our big girl, who had no doubt in her mind that something wasn't quite right. An hour later, after Lily was asleep, I was still in bed with Zosia, reading just about every poem in my own childhood copy of Where the Sidewalk Ends, which, I must admit, I still find amusing and wonderful twenty plus years later. Hoping that the words would make Zosia's eyelids heavy. And between nonsensical poems about mice and rain and pretending that all seemed to run together, I came upon this one, and paused. It gave me a moment of clarity.

Forgotten Language

Once I spoke the language of the flowers
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow.
Once I spoke the language of the flowers...
How did it go?
How did it go?

And I got goosebumps! Because sometimes something as simple as children's literature has the capacity to communicate deep unspoken truths. Here I am, straining to hear those forgotten languages, while I am surrounded by little babies that still speak them fluently: the languages of flowers and pinecones, and acorns, and sticks, and mice and bananas, and houseflies.

I snuggled up close to that little toddler of mine, realizing that for all the things I have to teach her, she holds some treasures that I could only dream of possessing. As she drifted to sleep (close to an hour after that, with me knitting in a rocking chair by her crib), I marveled to think of what her dreams would hold. Listening closely.

Reading Aloud

Ben was recently reading something about reading aloud to children (ironically, silently to himself, not aloud to Zosia). Apparently, many parents stop reading aloud once children can read on their own. And according to the educator whose book Ben was reading, there are huge benefits in continuing to read aloud to your older children-- they get a sense of the way that a longer, more complicated story can come together; they learn to process stories that are read aloud; and it's a special time between parent and child.

It's funny, because I feel like I've made this discovery on my own, but not through reading to an older child but reading aloud with Ben. One special thing that we've done throughout our marriage has been periodically reading a book aloud. Since, as a general rule, we don't watch tv in the evening (this is modified during football season ;-), we have lots of time to spend together. And reading good books aloud together is interesting, funny, entertaining.

There are a lot of benefits I've found for myself in processing books in this slower, more intentional way. When we read aloud, I catch all sorts of details that I miss when I speed-read on my own. Saying each word aloud, allowing it to fill the space that a silent house creates, gives it an intentionality and fullness that silent reading never provides. When I'm reading with Ben, one added bonus is that since the two of us posses incredibly varied knowledge bases, I can often ask him questions about things that I don't understand, words that I haven't heard before. And I can share special insights that I have, too.

One of my fondest memories is reading Miss Marple books aloud with friends in a summer cabin while on vacation. We all fell in love with Miss Marple, and to this day posses a special fierce loyalty to her. There has been no better Halloween costume than when one friend dressed up as Miss Marple the following year. It gave us this beautiful shared experience, jointly captured our imaginations, and was much more bonding than watching a movie together (even though we did continue our bond by watching Miss Marple on PBS).

Some of the books that I've loved reading aloud, either with friends or with Ben, have been Agatha Christie books, Little Children, Little House on the Prairie books, Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, Atonement, and The Shipping News (which is what we're reading right now).

What have you enjoyed reading aloud?

Indoor Days

It is the third day of consecutive cold rain. It's been weeks-- possibly months-- since we've been inside for this duration of time, and it has resulted in a rediscovery of indoor time.

Some of my favorite activities these past few days have been building a lot of things from blocks, pretending to go to the grocery store, pretending to drive around in some chairs, reading a lot of books under a warm quilt, and taking baths. There's nothing quite like a warm bath to make you feel cozy on a cold rainy day.

We've been making soups, yummy baked goods (black bean brownies last night... yum ) and finishing our seasonal movement of clothes from the basement into our shelves.

And I've been devouring Gone With the Wind. I think Ben is relieved that I only have a chapter left-- he finally gets his wife back after two weeks of my mind being elsewhere.

It's been a lovely change of pace, although I must admit, I am itching for some good outdoor play time. Maybe a trip to the library is in order today.

How do you spend your indoor days?

Moving Towards a Sabbath

Sometimes at the end of the weekend, Ben and I look at one another, and can just exclaim, "That was perfect." We feel rested, rejuvenated, connected. We do not feel hurried or anxious or stressed. We feel ready for the week, and the home is in working order.

And then there are the weekends that are not like that. When we end the weekend feeling more stressed than when we began, when the weekend flew by without what felt like true relaxation, when the week has not even started and already we feel overwhelmed and tired and ready for another weekend.

So lately I've been trying to be more mindful during the weekend to try to figure out: why are some weekends pure bliss while others are chaos? What's the recipe for the perfect weekend?

I certainly haven't "figured it out." With five sentient beings in our household (more if you count the ants), there are just too many variables to pin anything down. But, I have come to the conclusions that weekends when we have one "sabbath" day seem to go more smoothly. We are much more likely to feel joyful and rested at the end of them than weekends when we are "go go go."

Like some other mothers out there, I don't feel like our family functions very well on strict schedules. There are rhythms to our life, but they can't be written out on a chart because they are natural and irregular and varying. So I don't think our family will ever observe a hard and fast Sabbath where the electricity is out and we do no work at all and we have twenty four hours of peace. But, if we can carve out some semblance of Sabbath, it works just as well.

When we set aside a day without any social engagements, without any entertaining, without any trips (once restful but now with two kids anything but) and without any errands, it is like balm to the soul. On days like this we might bake at home, go for a walk and visit with neighbors, read together, take a nap, sit outside, work in the garden. Not strict "sabbath" rules, but what qualifies as rest for us. We might watch a video or just be silly together.

I love the book Miriam's Kitchen, which is the story of one contemporary woman who journeyed into orthodox sabbath keeping. Her description of Friday night, when her whole family would sit around a table in a clean home and enjoy an intentional meal by candlelight, is absolutely beautiful. There are no chores to worry about (because by some miracle she finished them on Friday), there are no sleepovers or playdates. There is simply a single family spending sacred time in one another's presence and in the presence of divine. This is what I'm dreaming of, the destination of my pilgrimage.

How do you keep Sabbath? What are the rests that give you strength and energy?

Farmer Boy

There's nothing quite like reading the Little House books to both give me inspiration about things to do with my kids at home and also to make me feel like a totally inadequate homemaker. I'm re-reading Farmer Boy (the only little house book they had at the library, and one of my favorites), and his mom is amazing. Here are merely a few of the things that Almanzo's mother happens to find time for during her day: weaving cloth, sewing clothes, knitting warm things, making three full hot meals every day (a single sample dinner menu being fried apples and onions, roast beef, brown gravy, mashed potatoes, creamed carrots, boiled turnips, countless slices of buttered bread with crab-apple jelly (home made, no doubt) and birds' nest pudding with cream. Umm... that's like a whole week's menu around here!), making cheese, donuts, bread, pies, scrubbing floors with salt and lye (that's a natural cleaning product to try!).

I do feel very comforted by all of the sweet times Almanzo's family has together. What could be cozier than eating popcorn and drinking hot cider by a hot stove in the winter time with Mother knitting, Father whittling, Royal carving sticks, Alice doing embroidery and Eliza Jane reading the paper aloud? These people are adorable.

And talk about feeding my unrealistic dreams of moving to a farm. There's so many interesting things to do around there... things like breaking calves and milking cows and cutting ice for the cellar. Wait. I guess we now have freezers.

Ben reminds me that the whole thing is idealized. They probably only ate popcorn by the fire every new and then, or a few times a year. They did have to wake up in the middle of the night to CHASE ANIMALS AROUND. Talk about a disrupted night. And I guess they did have backbreaking work day in and day out.

But I'm choosing to buy into the utopia for now. You'll find me in the kitchen making dinner in my apron, trying to see if I can drum up some desert for tonight. And wondering where on earth I can fit a loom in our living room.