A few weeks ago, I was asked by a friend with younger children and plans of homeschooling them how I went about our days and how I was able to homeschool the bigger kids with a little one in tow.  As we spoke, I was reminded of those early years of parenting–reading everything I could about child development and parenting and education, worried about doing the best by these little people entrusted to my care, so desperate to do a better job than my parents did.  I was reminded of myself, ten (and a half!) years ago, and I felt acutely aware of one thing as we talked–everything I had learned about how to parent and educate and be a mom to my children I learned from my own kids and our life as we lived it.  All the ideas were there for guidance and inspiration, but in the end, parenting and homeschooling for us have become a blend of both my intentions and my responsiveness. As we spoke, this was the real answer I wanted to give her, “don’t worry too much because you will figure out what is best for your family as you go.”

Because for all the reading I have done about educating these four, all of it very helpful and insightful and necessary for keeping me fresh and present and aware, one thing has made itself abundantly clear–my children are all unique and as such, our homeschool has been formed around each of them and their individual interests and learning styles.

Starting out with a fiercely independent and highly creative boy, one who did an amazing amount of natural learning in his early years but not only took no interest in compulsory learning but adamantly disengaged in attempts on my part to “teach” him things on my time table once he was of “school” age, I quickly had to adapt.  I found out the things I really would patiently insist on (reading, writing, basic math) and let go, for the time being, of other things (Oregon history).  He is truly a genius, but this may not be revealed on any standardized tests.  He waited until nine to really start reading, but started with the Harry Potter books, so in the end he didn’t really miss much (that early reading material can be rather dull).  He is clever and quick, and I do not worry about how he will do in life even the littlest bit now (I used to, tremendously, that is the job of new parents I think!).

This is a self portrait (sorry for the blurry photo!)  he recently made of himself showing how he will look when he is eighteen!  If he believes this about himself as whole-heartedly then and through all his years as he does now, then he can make anything happen.

The point of all of this, really, is that sometimes our ideas of our children must make room for their ideas of themselves.  In the early years, they are so little, it is really our ideas that so significantly guide them.  But as they grow, they become.  Our early parenting years are not only formative for our children, but for ourselves as well.  What I realized as I tried to explain our homeschool, which has evolved to look very little like “school”, is that there really are no cut and dry answers for any of us, and that my friend’s homeschool will look very different from mine as they go on their path.

As for ours, it too will evolve and change as the children get older and new little people step up to the plate.  Our one girl, almost six now, likes to sit and do lessons in a way that both of the older boys still fight against.  I can’t even say it has anything to do with gender, but more to do with the fact that  they are all so different, it is as equally amazing as it is disarming when trying to parent them.

As a former straight A student and lover of all things “school-y”, I can say that it can take some letting go, both homeschooling and parenting in general.  Still, it is the best job in the world.

As for how we manage it, it is an ever changing challenge and solution.  Yesterday, we worked hard on multiplication, spelling, grammar, and phonics both in ways that probably worked and ways that probably didn’t.  Sometimes, those lessons I most formally bring to the table end up being the worst for everyone.  Today, we counted smashing rocks, unearthed from our giant mud pit, with hammers to see what was inside of them, attempts at finding themes and making statements with altered art and mixed media, and copying animal sounds out of baby brother’s favorite board book as “school”…and those were the parts they drummed up themselves while I taught the baby to do the dishes. I keep at it both ways, but I secretly think that the only learning that matters is the learning they are deeply vested in.

This is the one thing I have learned without a doubt–if we remain open to it, we are always learning.  That is what I hope for my kids to keep with them after they have up and gone from their schooling with me.  That is the most important thing I can teach them.  It’s what they have taught me.

Saturday mornings, for the last year and a half, have been off to market days for us.  Our little town has been blessed with the opportunity to build a thriving year round farmer’s and artisan’s market, and having somewhere to bring winter produce to sell during the off months of our CSA program is really great.  Growing food year round has been a fun and satisfying part of our farm adventure here in Oregon.  And for us especially, having moved from the much colder Midwest, being able to grow so much out in the open through the winter has been amazing.

Here in the Willamette Valley, there is so much that can be grown out of doors through the entire year.  Winter hardy greens top the list, but root crops like carrots, beets, turnips, and rutabagas can also stay in the ground and be harvested from through the winter, and the really fun stuff is the overwintering sprouting broccolis and cauliflowers that are such a treat come the end of the cold season.

The only hitch, for us at least, is the space winter growing requires.  To continue harvesting in the same quantity as we do for the rest of the year, we need to have winter vegetables in a lot more ground than we need for that amount in warmer months.  Since things aren’t growing at all for a good twelve weeks of that time and growing slowly for the rest of it, we have to plan differently.  With much of our usable growing space wet (albeit highly fertile) from December through May, we still haven’t been able to grow as much as we would like.

This year we were really excited to use the dry acreage we are leasing near town to grow more for winter, but are now equally disappointed because those vegetables attracted foraging deer who ended up eating everything we planted there–kales, radicchios, chicories, red mustards, chard, perpetual spinach, turnips.  They kindly left the arugula and green mustards, but being so far away from that space, it felt hard to protect those crops and we aren’t necessarily keen on putting up deer fencing over there right now.  Here at our place, even when we see some deer activity in the winter, we have the easy protection of our dog to keep them at bay.

And so, the winter growing part of our operation is still the part we still struggle with.  Many people are amazed that we have what we do at market but we know that we could have a lot more.  And people really, really love our winter greens.  Growing them out of doors in the cold produces the most wonderful flavor, and to be eating something so fresh and alive in the coldest months is awesome, we aren’t coming close to meeting the demand for them.  Even as we get ready to put up our first hoophouses on the farm, we don’t want that to be our main solution to having more to harvest for the winter market and ultimately, for a full season CSA too.

A puzzle we are working on–just as there are always are in the farming business–but one we feel we can solve.  That is part of what keeps us on our toes and ever humble in the work we do.

This morning, the sky was on fire, Mt. Hood so breathtaking in the sky against those colors.  It will be a beautiful market day.  We are heading out now with some delicious greens, thankful for what we do have and for yet another Saturday to visit with the community and continue “farming” year round.

Today was so brilliant!  It was decidedly sunny and that sun felt so good.  The kids and I spent nearly all day outside.   We started out there this morning with songs and times tables, and after a quick trip inside to do some writing, we happily returned out of doors for picnics and stories and card games.  And although we didn’t do much in the way of farm work (the kids and I that is…the farmer was harvesting for Saturday market), we did make it out to the fields for an adventure.  After lunch, my daughter announced that we needed to go on a walk and find “spring” stuff to bring inside to decorate with, and it seemed just the thing to do–it felt so spring-like out there!

Of course in reality we are still just making our way out of winter a bit at a time, so we didn’t really find anything that satisfied her quest (no flowers!).  Things look a lot like winter out in the field and around the farm still.  There are a lot of bare trees and brown hues and winter hardy garden plants that always look a little worse for wear at this time of the year.  And so, we decided to refocus our efforts, and began instead to look for signs of spring coming. 

And even though our walk showed only the smallest of these signs, we did find some.  There is new growth on the winter greens and the very teeny tiny beginning of sprouting broccoli florets.  There is more green surrounding those food plants in the garden, too.  The weeds and grass in the path are definitely starting to grow and right now, while they are just at the starting, they are a nice sight, all green and fresh and tender!  The daffodils are popping out of the ground, the cherry buds are forming!

Small things, yes!  But small things emerging from underground, budding, and growing–all signs of good things to come!

For the last two months or so, the farmer has been sleeping in.  Sometimes just sleeping in a little compared to being up and out in the fields before anyone else is awake; sometimes sleeping way in, while the rest of us rouse, eat, and start our day still waiting at 9:00 for him to say good morning!  I am not quite sure if he has ever taken the winter months to practice this bit of extra restfulness before, or if this is just the first winter I noticed it.   I do think that up until now he most likely still had a pressing feeling  in the winter to keep busy because this is the first winter that he has been all the way through a full year of full-time farming, with the business now more or less solvent without needing either of us to work off of the farm.  I think this year he could fully relax while the sun slept in too and the temperatures were so cold.

I, too, have noticed that even though I wasn’t sleeping in, I was feeling more sleepy when I did wake in the mornings.  There was a subtle difference–less get up and go and a lot more snuggle under the covers than jump up and greet the day.  Since neither of us have changed our sleeping routines, I can’t help but think that this extra sleepiness has something to do with the season.

And then this morning, I woke early to the sound of the farmer leaving the bed.  I could see that there was a faint change in the color of the sky, but really, it was mostly dark and dawn was barely on its way.  After falling back asleep for a little bit before getting up, I went out to find that this morning, all of a sudden, the farmer was back to work.  He had finished his tea, organized seeds, and was heading out the door already, practically bristling with excitiment.  He said something about so much to do! and was off to the greenhouse.

At first, I was surprised at the sudden change, finding myself equally bristling with excitement at early morning work and all that it implied , but nevertheless, not fully there myself in that get back to business mode.

And then I was struck by the significance of this shift happening today, the day pagans used to celebrate as the halfway point between the darkest day of the year, winter solstice, and the first day of spring.  Imbolc, an ancient holiday, encompassed in modern times by little more than a groundhog peeking out of his whole in Pennsylvania (tomorrow), but still a nod to the fact that spring is, indeed, on its way.

The energy has shifted outside as it will continue to shift throughout the month and on into the heart of spring.   And without skipping a beat, the farmer, so very connected to this land and his work, experienced that same shift.  Just like that, he shed his winter slumbering and awoke with excitement and enthusiasm–it is the perfect energy to jump start the season.

And so, early on this Imbolc morning, some seeds were sown, the first of 2012.

Really quick, before we slip into February and the year is officially on its way, let’s pretend that all year we will be as poised and ready for flight as we are in the freshness of January.

I have had this list floating around in my head for the past month or so, taking shape, refining itself into something worth paying attention to for the rest of the year.  These January lists, for me, are always filled with lots of maybe’s and only a bit of for sure’s.  Nonetheless, they always serve as good guideposts as I make my way through the months.

That boy above seen flying down the hill and exploding in light; a few weeks ago he made a list entitled, “pashions to fufill”.  It was one part impossible (for now) dreams (go to Hawyee (Hawaii) and Japan, build a small room on the roof, find a 1,000,000 doler bill), one part wishful thinking (get a laptop, die my hair), and one part achievable goals and aspirations (beacom a break dancer, become a master yo-yo-er, go to a concert of these bands-weezer, radiohead, snow patrol, beck, and get a bunch of lizerds).  It is also one part overarching approach to life–so unassumingly, he adds to this grand list, have fun.  That’s my favorite one.

And even though he still doesn’t take much time to make sure he is spelling everything right, he is never short on ideas.  The daily output of creativity–in the forms of drawings, paintings, story ideas, intricate imaginative games, mini books, jokes, dance moves, and songs–is nothing short of amazing.  And the same goes for all of my kids, and really, all children in general.  They breathe creation.

And so, taking a cue from the small folks in my my life, I am thinking about this year not in terms of resolutions, but rather in terms of passions to fulfill as well as in terms of creating the year, day by day.  Some things on my list may be impossible dreams for the year, but why leave them off the list?  Imagination isn’t only for the young in years, but for the young at heart, right?  Some may be wishful thinking, but it is those wishes I make every year and keep in my mind most clearly that tend to come true.  And unlike last year, I have a few goals set for myself as well, just to make sure my own cup doesn’t run dry by the end of the year like it did in 2011.

2012 Passions to Fulfill

• more date nights with the farmer than I can count on one hand
• a full larder come fall (since I haven’t preserved anything for the last few years)
• a trip to California to visit Great Grandma, who totally rocks, so we all can see her at least one more time before she moves on
• eating out here and here, since we ate out maybe once last year for Valentine’s day (here)
  
• see much, much, much more live music, both mama and papa, and the whole family
• take up running (I can’t believe it has come to this, but hey! it’s free and it’s outside and those rank pretty high on my exercise list)
• begin to learn the fiddle
• practice the piano
• visit Nebraska, hug my nieces and brother and introduce them to their new cousin/nephew, bask in its landscape, so much a part of me, and the closeness of old friends, in all their familiarity
• say yes more
• go dancing with my love (I’m thinking tango or salsa lessons!)
  
• get a canoe and take the kids floating on the river
  
• remodel the kitchen, finish painting, and pull up the rest of the carpet in the house
• heal some food allergies
• re-institute the weekend, balance farming and family time
  
• explore the city
  
• find real ways to help end the wars, stop the spread of GMO crops, and improve the diet and health of the next generations 
• be silly with the kids
• let the little things slide
• soak in the hot springs
• make a rag rug
• and make time ( I believe it’s possible)

Really, lists like these are not exhaustible and often need to be tweaked as life rolls by.

Really, they are just snapshots of the moment.  But still, I like them a whole lot.

And in the end, I rely heavily on picking something like have fun or be present or love to be my guide everyday, inserting other inspiring words like relax, focas, let go, dream, move, give thanks, and on and on as needed, hoping against hope to keep that frame of mind more hours of the day than not, the never ending work of being human.

And so, with a lot of inspiration and determination, and fortune willing, a little bit of grace, we embark.

Filed under: children, cycles, family, home Tagged: family, home, mother, rhythym, seasons ]]> http://growingwildfarm.com/2012/02/01/take-off/feed/ 1 growingwildfarm flying http://growingwildfarm.com/2012/01/28/january-through-the-lens/ http://growingwildfarm.com/2012/01/28/january-through-the-lens/#comments Sat, 28 Jan 2012 23:07:54 +0000 growingwildfarm http://growingwildfarm.com/?p=1286 ]]> A small look at what our month has been full of:

yo-yo’s

keeping warm with new Christmas hats from Grandma

sunny (and wet) winter harvests and yummy winter meals

rain and rain and floods

wet explorations, loads of splashing, and oh so much puddle jumping

baby goat joy and tragedy

and many hours of learning, playing, and loving with this silly crew, the youngest of whom was not happy to be slowed down by big sister for this photo!

What else?

We are mixing potting soil to start transplants, ordering greenhouse supplies, tinkering with the tractor to make sure it is running well when we need to start using it this spring, finalizing the fruit orders for the year, and contemplating a week’s vacation before we start to get busy again.

January is such a sweet, quiet month.  It is usually sunnier than the months to come, so we try to get outside to soak it up as much as we can, all the while itching to be doing more work with the ground than we actually can.  It is a month of dreaming big and filling back up after the drain of a whole busy season.

It is one of the best, don’t you think?

(but really, I do love them all)

This year I think I’ll throw my lot in with the Chinese calender and call this the start of a (great) new year.  I am a dragon child after all;  according to the eastern skies this will, indeed, be a year meant for me.   There was a part of me itching to go right after Christmas, ready for resolutions, goals, plans.  But there was another part of me right in the middle of serious pain, pain that began the day after Thanksgiving as what seemed like a sore muscle and turned into a misplaced rib and tightened shoulder/neck muscles causing nerve pain through my whole arm and hand, lasting through the holidays and into the start of my fresh, new year.

So, I just gave in, finally, to my body’s cry to slow down and practice some much overdue self care.  Part of that meant a few weeks of mellow.  After a busy and stressful year of adjusting to the new family size and the growing business pace, it was really what I needed.   At the start of last year, when I was riding high on the bliss of a very relaxed and positive year on the farm and a brand new baby, I intentionally didn’t set any goals for myself, wanting to just be with that new little guy as he grew that first year.  Still, there was such an ominous feeling to the beginning of 2011, I should have been a little less shaken by the stress of the little dip we took in our roller coaster ride, a little more prepared.  Instead, I just pushed through making sure to take care of everyone else.  As for myself, I certainly didn’t get enough sleep, and I drank way too much coffee!

But now our little guy is so solidly rooted in the family, another wild and wonderful sprout toddling along with his brothers and sister and making just as much mischief and laughter in our home as ever.  And I think that as much as last year was one with growing pains, this year is a year to grow, stretch, and work hard too, but without all the worry and feeling of being busy.  I had to stop drinking coffee and modify my diet as well as take myself to get a massage, a few chiropractic adjustments, and some accupunture (which really rocked the pain!).  It feels good to spend a bit of time mothering my own body a little, and I feel refreshed and ready to take on the year.

The farmer, too, was feeling really tired by the end of the season; but two week off of market and a new season to plan and he is as fresh as spring and ready to go!  The beauty of farming is that the end of the cycle–the winter, the death and dying part–it so quickly becomes the start of new! hope!  growth!

So–2012!

I am sure we will be just as busy and we have lots of plans, lots!  So there will be the balancing of the farm and the family, as always.  But it is the year of the water dragon, a year of good luck, prosperity, a year of flowing and flying high again!

Here is to a very happy new year!

While some say it is the first day of winter, for me it is more like mid-winter.  This morning, saying hello to that winter sun, I knew that each day henceforth would be brighter.  So Winter, though snappy and still and blanketing our farm as you are today, really your grip has loosened. 

And that is just how it goes sometimes.  Maybe I should have had the photo taken sooner (well, I know I should have), but the thing is, life right now is busy–so, so busy.  Not busy always with things, but busy with so much life.  I remember being the mother of just two small people, living in town, doing all the little motherly things right.  We always had a cute and fun holiday photo, a million and one organized crafts, and time for a million and one stories on the couch.  There were still toys left out at the end of the night sometimes, and sometimes dishes too, but everything was more neat and tidy, and my goodness, it was SO easy!

Nothing has really been the same since we moved to the farm, our third babe just two months old.  But that ride, as fast and furious as it seems at times, has been wonderful.  This busy that we are now is very much the good kind, full in the simplest sense, uncomplicated but wild.

And so this holiday season, with no family photo to share and a million and one holiday craft ideas left by the roadside in favor of the 4-5 picture books on the couch each day (and the bedtime stories…always the bedtime stories), I am so happy to find us all filled with holiday cheer and I know for a fact that this happiness stems from the one instance where trickle down theories seem to apply.  The calm and simple intention of the big people in our home is all the small people in our home need to enjoy the season.  This spreading of good cheer is more important than any other holiday trick I could play.

The winter solstice is fast approaching, the darkest day of the year, after which the sun will return a little more each day bringing us closer, bit by bit, to mid-winter.  Then, plant growth resumes and around that time, another growing season will begin too, in the quiet space of the greenhouse.  As the days grow darker, and generally colder too, we get to really embrace the light and warmth of our homes, our family, and our friends.  And in turn, we get to shine our own light out on these sources of love and light in our lives:  we make our homes bright, we gather together, we give.

There is a solemnity to all this, but really, the point of these winter holidays is to celebrate!  To bring joy!

And so this week, the last week of “farming” for 2011, the end of another wonderful CSA and market year, our holiday wish for all of you is simple: 

may your heart be light!

Things are winding down for the year just in the nick of time.  As the farmer harvests these last few CSA shares in the brisk window of time between defrosting and dark, washes them in the cold in spurts while alternately coming inside to warm his hands by the fire, he is all the while saying he is ready for a break.  This man loves what he does, there is no question about that; still, the work he does is both strenuous and consuming from the first tipping of the scale toward the sun in late winter until now, when we are blanketed in darkness.  He is busy and working hard and loving it, but after next week’s final CSA harvest for the season, he will thoroughly enjoy two full weeks off for the holidays.  The darkest days of the year, the brightest in the home; this will be the farmer’s respite.

After that, we of course will be harvesting again every week through the winter for the Saturday market.  We will also be busy filling up the CSA for 2012, ordering seeds (which we usually do some of in those last few weeks of December actually), and after just one month, the quiet month of January, he will be back at it again, in the greenhouse, starting the cycle of a seed’s life again.

Time is unruly in many ways.  Each day spins by a little faster than the last, but at the same time the beauty and pain of this life equally intensify.  The faster things move along, the more tightly I try to hold on to the amazing journey we are on.  I know that a lot of spiritual work is devoted to the idea of letting go of that grip; but for me, this life, in this body, with these people, in this place–I love it, perhaps more dearly than I should.

So with two short weeks of celebrating on the horizon, two blissful weeks that are ours (mostly), I will try to slow things down the best I can.  The farmer, who is equal parts husband and father and musician, will probably not do a whole lot of anything related to Growing Wild Farm the business.  He will come back to those duties refreshed and ready and the plans for 2012 are big and exciting so that is a good thing.

And in light of this short, short window he has to rejuvenate, my main goal for the holiday season is to keep everything simple and meaningful and purposefully relaxing.  These times of good cheer, with friends and family and each other, not only lighten our hearts in the darkest days, they energize us, breathe fresh life into our spirits as we continue moving along this path of time into another year.

These are the things I try to keep at the core of all that we plan and do during this month.  Next week, when we arrive at market with the last harvest of the year and wish everyone happy holidays, my  hope is that we all fall gracefully into those weeks of bringing joy and light to each other.  I know I will do my part to make this farmer’s spirit bright so he can continue to shine in his wonderful role as tender of the earth in the coming year, the seeds of which are already starting to germinate here within us.