My Blog

Here you will find my ramblings, rants and joys as I think about and experince parenting, community, love and life. I live a rather simple life filled with extraordinary people and I hope to share with you my thoughts and wonderings about it all!

Joy #10 - Gardening in my Allotment Plot at Leslie Spit. Sunny Days, Warm earth, planning our harvest feast. Life here is simple and good.

May 17, 2006 - Entry #12 - Bullying

My family and I are having the most unhappy and frustrating experience trying to deal with Bullying in the school yard. Our children currently attend a Catholic School here in Toronto that is considered one of the more enlightened schools - there is a heavy emphasis on the arts and specialized programs for children with special needs and children having difficulty socially integrating into the school routine and atmosphere. My 11 Year old son is frequently the subject of bullying. He's a big,sweet, goofy kid. Gentle, thoughtful, kind. And he often becomes a target for unhappy children venting their feelings in the school yard.

The school yard, we have learned the hard way, is a school of hard knocks. There is limited supervision, and what supervision is available isn't interested really in being of assistance to the children. They are not trained or able to help the children to positively resolve conflicts with each other or to build positive relationships. The children are left to their own devises to sort out squabbles and disagreements and it often ends up in open fighting. Children are modelling ways of behaving that they experience from the other adults and siblings in their lives, their peers, television, video games - and as you can imagine, not all of these models are realistic or positive. There seems to be a culture of violence that is tolerated and allowed to happen by the staff simply because they are ineffective in dealing with it. They allow it to happen. There are no consequences. Even though the board promises that there is anti-bullying training available for staff and that they have an anti-bullying policy that is very clear there seems to be absolutely no actions that are taken when an incidence occurs.

My son has been kicked, knocked to the ground and hit, hit in the head, suffered absolutely increadible verbal abuse all from two individuals he is expected to interact with and sit in class with as a class mate. These acts of violence are bullying. It breaks my heart to watch him process his experiences. And I will not, against much of the advice I receive from family and friends, teach him it's okay to fight back - because it's not, not if we want a peaceful society. No one has the right to touch another person in a violent way. That is the lesson here. Not how to effectively fight back.

Each time an incidence occurs, the school promises that they have a process to deal with it. Often the child who hit my son will have to copy out a two page essay on respect, once my son had to sign a contract with one of the bullies stating that they would both respect each other and stay away from each other (which resulted from my son being excluded from soccer games, basketball games and other social activities because the other child was involved in them). Not really effective consequences. Each time an incidence happens we've taken to keeping my son home until the school gives us a satisfactory answer around what the consequences will be for the child who hurt our son will be. He's missed about 15 days of school just due to these incidences this school year. We have written letters demanding that the school boards bullying policy be invoked (automatic suspension of 1 - 20 days) for the bully, but the principal of our particular school refuses to call any of the incidences "Bullying". Calling an incidence Bullying and invoking the school board policy creates the situation where the school becomes noticed by the administration as one where bullying is an issue - so it's not called Bullying. Our principal calls it "oil and water", she says "ah, they're just kids" - but what I think she doesn't have an awareness of is the culture in the school that her attitude is embuing. The children know they can get away with pretty much anything. And they do.

As I'm writing this my son is home again, the principal is avoiding our phone calls and communications and we are wondering about our choices for next steps. We need to find a culture that allows him to thrive and grow in positive social ways. We need to find somewhere that he is safe and secure. We need to find somewhere that his experience will be respected and where violence is not tolerated. And this particular school does not fulfill any of those needs - even though it is considered one of the best schools in our board! As an adult I would never tolerate being hit in any way, nor would I tolerate verbal abuse, why is it that there seems to be an assumption that this kind of treatment is a rite of passage that some of our children need to go through? We should be setting positive examples for our children - all adults should. We should be modelling positive communication, respect, positive conflict resolution. The anti-bullying training that the teachers should be receiving should take into account that everyone is being affected by the poisonous atmosphere on the playground - the bully, the child being bullied and the children witnessing the violence and abuse. It needs to be recognized that abuse in any form toward any person is not acceptable. Between child and child is just as damaging.

I've always believed that if we want to change the world we have to teach our children well. We have to model what we want for our kids. Kindness, peacemaking and respect should be top of the list. Society is failing our children in the school yard. Why is this happening?

So, I'm exploring my options, my son is reading and working on a project on Ancient Greece and we are still waiting to hear from his principal. We'll fax her in another letter tonight. As a parent I will not fail my son. I want him to see the good and the beauty in the world, not be bogged down in other people's unhappiness being acted out publically. We are thinking of escalating outside of the school. We are thinking of transferring schools. Homeschooling sounds great to me today. We're frustrated with processes that don't work and determined to keep our son safe and secure in his school environment so that he can relax and learn in an environment that is nurturing and respectful and inspiring.

Joy #9 - My Great Grandmothers Lilac Bush - still smells like it did when I was 8 years old

April 30, 2006 - Entry #11 - Lice

My kids all have lice. Eeech. My initial reaction was just total disgust. But it's a funny story so I thought I'd tell it here so that someone else could learn from it.

I had no idea what adult lice looked like. I new about the dark nits. I had no idea about the symptoms.

After a dry winter indoors I personally have a bit of excema on my scalp that has been acting up so seeing my kids itch for the past 2 weeks didn't clue me in. My head was itchy too. The 3 notes that came home from my middle son's grade 3 class over the past month stating that yet another parent had reported a case of head lice didn't send up alarm signals either. We've been getting notes like that 3x a year all the time my kids have been in school. What did clue me in was taking my 4 year old to a friends mothers funeral and watching him scratch like a dog with fleas. Upon closer inspection he had little flies creeping around in his hair. Yuck. I turned to a friend and mother of 4 older children "What does lice look like?" her eyes widened and she confirmed that lice looked just like that. Little flies. Yuck. She also chuckled as she looked more closely at the nape of his neck and around his ears. Yup,she said, looks like he's got a pretty good infestation there. Crap. I felt pretty foolish.

So, home I go to do some very quick research as the idea of using an insecticide on my kids, no matter my initial reaction to the situation, was worse and completely unacceptable. I soon found out that the insecticide is very toxic (no kidding!). Not stuff you want to use more than once on a child - and many children need 6 treatments to clear up a case of lice. I also read that much of the time the lice are immune or have adapted to the insecticides marketed for headlice at the pharmacy. After leafing through some of my older texts on natural medicine I find the tried and true recommendations: suffocate and comb and comb and comb and comb.

Sounded like a good strategy to me. So for each of my kids I wet their hair and put conditioner in it. I bought a fine toothed metal lice comb at the pharmacy. I put 20 drops of tea tree oil on their heads and combed a bit then covered with plastic bags tied fashionably and tightly around their heads. We waited an hour and combed out the dead adults and the nits. Every day we combed the kids' hair in the morning and at bedtime. Every third day we did the bag on the head with smelly tea tree oil thing. We washed linnens and hats and clothing.

It's day 10 now and I'm happy to report that for 5 days we've been totally clear of any signs of nits. The adults were gone the first day. We'll just keep combing from here on in - 2x a day for 10 more days.

Seems like such a simple solution for something that I know parents get extremely upset about. And yes, I combed out my long long long hair over and over and over again - and paid extra special attention to the nape of my neck and around my ears. Luckily I was clear from the beginning. Whew.

The upside: we solved our issues without using chemicals, we all have beautiful shiny hair and we've been getting up a little earlier each morning to spend time together.

The downside: I have really developed a dislike for the smell of tea tree....

Joy #8 - The Birds Are Back! And it's only March 29th!

March 8, 2006 - Entry #10 - Finding My Voice

I had lunch with Thomas Verney yesterday. My brain is still spinning a bit from that. Thomas Verney wrote the books "The Secret Life of the Unborn Child" and "Pre-Parenting".

I read "The Secret Life" when I was pregnant with my first child 12 years ago and it greatly informed my feelings about my pregnancy and ways I chose to handle the stress of medical school and living away from my home and partner. So here I am yesterday on Bloor Street sitting across from the man with all those ideas that spoke so true to me so many years ago as I was forming my own ideas around parenting and pregnancy and I couldn't help but wonder what on earth I was doing there. To my surprize Dr. Verney was interested in my work with pregnancy, birth and postpartum. He wanted insight into what a Naturopathic Doctor brought to the field of pre and perinatal psychology and wanted to hear about the research I've been involved with lately and the experience within my professional community of bringing the ideas that I espouse forward.

We had a great meal and enthusiastic discussion about an area of health we are both obviously very passionate about - fetal and infant brain development and the importance of appropriate attachment and bonding. I was very surprized that Dr. Verney is simply a really super nice person who is passionate about a field he has been researching and working in for 25 years. A humble man wanting to share what he has thought out and discovered and written about. Someone ordinary. But extraordinary at the same time.

In my musings about the whole experience afterward I realized that so far 2006 has brought me into the company of many "famous" people - and each time I carry the same amount of nervousness and feelings of inadequacy into the meetings and each time I leave thinking - "What a great person" - they all seem down-to-earth and eager to share ideas and thoughts. In January Suzanne Arms (author of "Immaculate Deception") sat at my kitchen table and drank tea and discussed the state of the world with me - peeked in on my sleeping boys and admired how much they all looked like little angels and then went for a beer with me at my favourite Irish Pub on the Danforth. In February I was invited to the Birth Blessing Way of Tara MacLean and her partner Ted - I've admired Tara's music for a very long time - and wouldn't you know it - the rest of the band Shaye (www.shayemusic.com) was there. I sat across from Damhnait Doyle (http://www.dav-net.com/) and the Kim in the corner with the baby and the very dry sence of humour was Kim Stockwood (http://www.kimstockwood.com/). In a short period of time I've had the opportunity to spend lots of time with these strong women and men whose voices and opinions I've long admired and something has stirred for me.

I've been looking for my voice. For the courage to really put out there some of the things that I've learned and experienced and seen working in the feild of Naturopathic Medicine and Pregnancy and Perinatal care. Over the years I've shared my opinions with my collegues - sometimes to be accepted, sometimes to be seen as radical. I am always very adamant to stay true to my core values of natural birth, breastfeeding, co-sleeping, midwifery, baby-carrying, strong attachment, gentle guidance and rhythm to life. I've shared my opinions with my family and friends and patients and again the people who are open to it and ready to hear it do and the people who are not don't. I think what I've been realizing is that it takes a big risk to put yourself out there, to find your voice and something to say. But it's important. And it's not important if people disagree with you or have other opinions.

Not only is it a risk to put yourself out there like that but I've always thought that the people who did this were perhaps special in some way I'm not. Finally I think I can say that isn't true. We can all have opinions. We can all share them. We can all be passionate about a subject and have a desire to shape others understanding of the world using our experience and knowledge. All of these wonderful people and teachers I've had the opportunity of meeting and spending time with, each of them were inspiring and passionate and brave. But they were all just normal people.

So, over the next little while I'm going to make it a goal to do some more writing, to get all this stuff inside my head out on paper and share it. There is so much information out there to learn and synthesize and it's interesting to do it through the filters I have of Naturopathic Medicine as well as in-the-trenches Motherhood.

Joy #7 - A Pain Free Day. A Strong Body.

January 20 , 2006 - Entry #9 - Pain

Pain. It clouds everything I've attempted to do for ten weeks now. It seeps into my sleep, makes me grumpy when I shouldn't be. It's caused me to slow down and accept limitations that normally I wouldn't have accepted of myself. My back was injured in my car accident and I've struggled with feeling well again. What an incredibly humbling event - I have been blessed with a strong and healthy body most of my life. I can push myself, I can run, I can paddle, I can carry a canoe on my back - but not today. Walking hurts, Standing hurts, making beds hurts. I haven't been outside as much this winter and my heart aches to go birdwatching in the sunshine at Lynde Shores. I've also resorted to using mainstream pain medication for a long period of time now - which is very strange for me. It surprizes me how much of homeostasis is disturbed by drugs - even low doses of drugs physicians swear won't have any effect but helpful ones. Body rhythms change, sleep changes, moods change, thoughts and the ability to organize and complete a thought changes. My consiousness of people who live with chronic pain has increased and I feel much more compassion for them. These are difficult times. I often feeling like I am swimming in a thick fog of physical unwellness and discomfort. I wonder why my body is taking so long to heal and I've doubted that I will ever fully recover.

The slowing down has been nice. The awareness that pushing myself through fatigue does no good. I've made morning tea and afternoon tea into rituals with my own home-grown Lemon Balm Tea. I've learned to nap. I've learned to journal my thoughts. I am thankful for the soothing rhythm of knitting or reading to Eli and to Alden who offers a hotwaterbottle and to Jacob for the many chess matches. Adapting. That's what we've done. I'm reading the boys a children's version of the Odyssey and they are loving it. Bedtime comes earlier. I am thankful for quiet times at home. These are all good things. This is all part of my journey. Lessons in patience.

Joy #6 - Music Teachers Being Silly Rather than Scolding. Act Like a Four Year Old Sometime! It sets your heart Free!

December 30, 2005 - Entry #8 - Special Gift

Joy #5 - Cold noses and Catching Snowflakes on our tongues

December 4, 2005 - Entry #7 - Connection

"I beleive that life events do not unfold randomly. All of us have reflected on turning points in our lives and seen that lessons came our way at exactly the time we need them. Some hidden intelligence seems to know when and how to transform us - often when we least expect it."

From Deepak Chopra in How to Know God

I want to talk about that moment in time when two souls meet in an unexpectued but increadible way and there is almost a !crack! of recognition for each other. A knowing that goes beyond knowing and beyond the moment in time when you have just met.

I was marvelling about this with a friend once and she described it like vibrating at the same frequency - so we all walk through the world, vibrating at our own little frequency and everyone around us is vibrating in their frequecy and every once in a while you meet someone with the exact same frequency and recognize therm.

There is another word that I love to describe the same event - anam cara - soul friend.

Perhaps it has happened to you or perhaps it has not but there are times when two people meet and they understand each other at such a deep level that its very hard to explain. And the excitement and joy that comes from a meeting like that, or a friendship that develops out of a meeting like that is very special indeed.

So now I want to tell you about George and Eli. My family is blessed to be embraced into a community of generous, kind and loving people who enjoy two things that make my own heart sing - music and the outdoors. We are even more blessed because this far flung group of peple come together a few times a year to enjoy the company of each other, to enjoy the outdoors and most of all, to enjoy the music we all make together.

Eli and George met this past summer at the summer cabin gathering we call "Kirkstock" when Eli had just turned four years old. Eli had waist length blonde ringlets, huge blue eyes and his new tie dyed t-shirt on. It was his first Kirkstock.

Now, to understand Kirkstock, I probably need to describe it a bit for you. Our friend owns a cabin on a hill. A log cabin - one room with a loft for sleeping. No running water, no electricity - but a view that would stop your heart. He invites his friends up once or twice a year to camp out, hang out, sit around the bonfire and sing. Kirkstock grows every year and this year there must have been 25 tents and maybe 50 people or so. All ages, all styles of musical taste.

I arrived late in the afternoon on a Saturday late in August, my offering for the potluck and three boys in tow. We got comfortable on the deck with the amazing view on an old courch and settled in quietly to read the rest of the latest Harry Potter and eat a snack. It was quiet, there were little bunches of people sitting here and there. Music, guitars and voices began drifing our way, so we sat and listened and enjoyed.

George plays guitar. He plays it brilliantly and Eli was drawn to him immediately and just stood watching and listening and dancing all afternoon. Eli thought George was very special. He turned to me and said , "Mommy, this music makes my heart happy"

Ahhhh. Exhale. We have found a special place in the world.

As the day wore on we helped prepare dinner and more guitars played and then the fires were started and the full moon came up and it got dark. With bellys full of wonderful food and air smelling like woodsmoke mingled with evening dew we settled in. Eli danced and loved the music - especially the stuff the university kids played - Tragically Hip and other, newer songs. Then George sat down on the rock and began his foloksy songs, joined by 3 or 4 other guitars. Eli, who by this time felt completely at home, climbed right into Georges lap and "helped" him play guitar. George showed him how to strum, showed him the hand to use for his chords and was absolutely content to sing as Eli strummed. They connected. They were friends. Eli told George that he was pretty sure Santa would bring him a guitar. Georges eyes sparkled. I think they recognized the music in each other and that is what made them click the way they did.

Anyway, the full moon got higher in the sky and Eli curled in my lap in a blanket fell asleep to Gordon Lightfood and Valdi and Jim Croche and John Prine. It was lovely. It was a night none of my boys will forget. A memory that will live in them and with them as they get older.

As a child my family was very musical. My mothers brothers used to get together every Boxing day and my uncles would play all those same songs and my mother would sing - Lightfoot, Valdi, Jim Croche, Simon and Garfunkel. My earliest memories of family connection and warmth is with music. Falling asleep in the arms of some uncle or aunt or by the fireplace wrapped in blankets while the grown ups sang into the night. I've been so very fortunate to find it all again. I feel I've come home with these people. It makes my heart happy too.

Well, to continue with this story, last weekend George was in Toronto for our last gathering of the year and I get a call mid afternoon:

"Is Santa bringing little Eli a guitar?" he asked me.

I wasn't exacty sure what to answer because, in truth, Sanda had found a toy guitar and had it wrapped and put away since October.

I answered "Santa is working on it."

Then George explained in his gruff way that he had remembered little Eli and the way he was drawn to music and he and his wife Sandy would very much like to give a guitar to Eli as a special gift.

My goodness! The generosity to give a child an instrument! And this was not a toy cowboy guitar with plastic strings like I had hidden in the closet!

That evening George did give Eli the guitar and the look on Eli's face when he realized that beautiful little guitar with the real metal strings was his very own was pure joy that only a child can feel. George gave him one of his very own picks and Eli played and George used a beer bottle as a slide and Eli sang.

Eli plays his guitar every day. He says "George gave me this guitar and someday I am going to be a rockstar!"

And I say, whatever makes your heart happy my dear.

To George and Sandy, thank you so very much for being open to recognizing that part of Eli that you did.

Counting my many blessings always.

Lisa

Joy #4 - A Child Falling to sleep on you - skin to skin in the bath - how can that little hand dangle in the water and he still be asleep?

November 18 , 2005 - Entry #6 - Goodbye to an Old Friend

My 1997 Black Hyundai Elantra Wagon has been a dear and faithful friend to us for a long long time. With 250, 000 km, paid off and running beautifully it was the worlds best car.

Last friday, coming home from a trip to my aunts garden an 83 year old woman ran a red light and that was the end of my 1997 Black Hyundai Elantra Wagon with 250, 000 Km on it.

Eli and Alden were in the car with me. I hurt my back, Alden hurt his knees and Eli seems okay. The boys are upset - they can remember how it sounded and how it felt - everything is so visceral, so sensory to a child. Alden has been having nightmares and Eli is super clingy. But physically we will mend. The other stuff may take longer. What an increadible shock tho, to be in an accident - to have a vehicle come out of no where and suddenly the world has changed. I am so thankful we were all okay. But I can't help but think of Maggie, my neice, who died when struck by a car in September 2000. She was 2 weeks shy of her 2nd birthday and shopping at the farmers market with her daddy. Here is the article.

In an instant the world changed.

I have to admit that it's been a bit of a rough week. I am so thankful that my boys are healthy and okay. But it makes me greive Maggie again. It also makes me realize that it can happen anytime, anywhere and to anyone. And I don't know how my sister is brave enough to face each day. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to my boys. I would be so devestated. Ah, the wanderings of someone who has let herself think about it tooo much these past few days.

I was amazed by the kindness of the people around - the fire fighters and EMS people, the police officers, the witnesses, people who lived in the houses around. They brought water for my children and blankets and helped me call for help. They spoke to us gently and reassuringly. They created a cocoon for us to be safe within as we worked through our shock. They helped the woman who ran the red and whose car was now on the church lawn. It was remarkable we all walked away from it. My friends offering to help with groceries and childcare and drives to the doctor. Thanks to all of you. It has ment so much to me to have this network of support to catch us when we've fallen.

And my little black hyundai, full of memories of driving to the north shore of Superior and to the inner most wilds of Algonquin to camp in and carrying all of our gear for whitewater kayaking, loaded down with bikes on the back and a car full of scouts on our way to Haliburton, full moons over the Madawaska River, the sounds of cycades in August. Being so reliable that even my mechanic offered to buy her from us if we ever decided to trade her in - and starting even when it was the coldest of cold days. Heading north with our skies all strapped on the roof. Heading south to Myrtle Beach in March. Being such a symbol of freedom and fun. Gone.

I've been snuggling with my kids a whole lot more and feeling thankful that we can just get another car and share more of those wonderful memories all together and how lucky we are to be all together.

September 16 , 2005 - Entry #5 - Creating Community

I love my multicultural neighbourhood.

It's funny, I've been here for five years now and I think I've gotten used to the delightfully rich diversity of people who live and work around me - but every now and then something happens that really throws it into relief what a unique and wonderful place it is that I live in.

This morning as I was seeing my two older boys off to school on their bus my neighbour (who is Equadorian and has 14 children - yikes!) called to another neighbour (who is East Indian), someone new on our quiet little street and asked him if he had any fruit today. It seems he buys fruits and vegetables and sells them at the Indian food market down the street.

So, wondering if he had any tomatoes, I wandered over as well, chatted with the several neighbours all crowed around his bright yellow van and I got a bushel of lovely plum tomatoes for $12 - what a great price! I was intent on canning them in a way that I have for many years each late August or September, a way that a collegues wife, who is also Mennonite taught me. I'll put the recipie here and continue the story below.

Canning Tomatoes the Mennonite Way:

Wash out 1 L mason jars with hot soapy water and then put in the oven on a cookie sheet at 350 F for 15-20 mins to sterilize.

Cut the tops/stems off the tomatoes. Blanch the tomatoes by dropping in a pot of boiling water for 45 seconds and then using tongs quickly transfer into a bowl of very cold water. I do this in small batches - probably 5-6 tomatoes at a time. Have one sterilized jar waiting and ready. Place the lids in warm water. Remove the skins of the tomatoes by simply slipping them off - the blanching makes them all cracked or wrinkly. Then pack the tomatoes into the jar very tightly - make sure that there are no air pockets and don't be afraid to squish them in. Make sure the top 1/2 inch of the jar is free. Salt with a pinch of coarse salt and screw the tops on loosely.

Continue until you have enough jars to process (usually 5-6) in a water bath.

Use a large pot - I have a great big canning pot with a wonderful wire contraption in it that holds the jars off the bottom and helps me lift them up. Boil enough water to cover the jars by one inch with water. Be sure to take into account the displacement of the water with however many jars you are using. Boil your tomatoes for 20 minutes in the hot water bath.

Remove from the jars and place them on a surface to allow them to cool - cooling racks work - as does a tea towel on the counter. As the jars cool the lids should all snap down because the air at the top has all been sucked out by the waterbath and the cooling. These jars can be labelled and stored for a year on a shelf. Always check your jars when you open them that they have been sealed well (the seal should be difficult to take off) and that they don't smell "off".

Anyway, back to my story. So I have my bushel of tomatoes and I carry it home and my wonderful Italian neighbour from across the street, Frank, sees me and begins to tell me in his broken english/half Italian way what to do with my bushel. Well, I've tasted Franks cooking. He is in his 70's and just an absolute joy to live near - he often shows up on my door with spaghetti and meatballs for the family or some kind of eggplant dish that I have no idea what it is but it's amazing, or potatoe latkas (although I'm fairly certain that he doesn't call them latkas) - thing is, he doesn't speak very much English so we usually just nod and smile and use our hands to communicate. Anyway, I nod and smile and into my house I go with my tomoatoes. About an hour later Frank is at my door - "come" he says - so I follow him into his kitchen and spend the morning nodding and smiling as he explains in Italian (which I speak not a word of) what to do with a bushel of tomatoes. I chop his tomatoes that he went over and bought after he saw me lugging home my bushel and I watch what he does with his tomatoes to make that wonderful Italian sauce he makes. So here is his recipie:

Franks Tomatoe Sauce

Wash and cut up enough tomatoes to fill up a large pot. Leave the skins on. Simmer on low until the tomatoes are cooked enough to be soft. Stir it alot with a stick (read here wooden spoon) Frank says. Now, Frank has this tomatoe mill that he uses in the next stage. I don't know where he got it or what it's even called - he told me the Italian word but like I said, I don't speak a word of Italian - but I would imagine it's readily available and it's ingenious. He mills the tomatoes by hand (only the tomatoe meat, leave the tomatoe water behind in the gib pot and dispose of it as you see fit once it cools - I think I'm going to pour mine on my garden, I bet it would make good fertilizer) and the skins and seeds get seived out - so what you are left with is lovely sauce - it's still thin but it looks like the real stuff. So then you cook your sauce for 1-2 hours until it thickens up. Then you can it and process it in a waterbath exactly the way I would have done with the whole tomatoes.

What a lovely day it's been. What lovely generous neighbours I have. My house smells like tomatoes, my hands smell like tomatoes, I'm making pizza sauce for our homemade pizza's tonight out of some of the sauce I've made today and basil I picked in my garden. I still have about a half a bushel to go before I'm done. Yum.

So here I am, a polish girl from the Ottawa Valley, living in downtown Toronto, chatting with my Equadorian friend with 14 children, buying my produce out of a van owned by my East Indian neighbour and then being instructed in the very fine art of sauce making by my elderly Italian neighbour which I will serve to my blonde headed children and husband with their Swedish genes. It does feel like a small world today, like all the peices fit together so wonderfully well.

Joy #3 - Morning Glories in my neighbours Garden

July 3 , 2005 - Entry #4 - Foymount Farm

Woke up at 6:30am - much ahead of the children - sun streaming in my window and birds singing. The sun has that newly risen light on the grass which is still heavy with dew. I get dressed, throw on a pot of coffee, try to decide weather its the actual mensurements that are important in bread making or if it is proportional and I knead my bread standing in front of the kitchen window listening to the cacophany of birds singing - the cow walks accross the field - I hear her lowing, calling her baby and Sue - her udder is full. My bread smells yeasty. The kids will love this. I take my bowl of homemade granola and homemade yogurt and my coffee and sit outside on the front stoop. Yesterday we photographed flowers, searched for eggs, held baby chicks, walked in the meadow, rode our bikes, rode a donkey named Eora, made yogurt, made butter, milked a cow, tasted raw milk, ate fresh broccoli and picked potatoe bugs. Homemade butter is the colour of margarine. Weird.

This is Heaven on Earth. Visit Foymount Farm.

Joy #2 - Tea and apple blossoms late at night

May 26, 2005 - Entry #3 - What I Realized one Weekend With My Kids

I watched a full moon rise over the Madawaska river

I listened to my uncles band tune up on the back of a flatbed truck

And they were so good it would have broken your heart

I flipped my boat and swam against the current in May

I watched the rain come in over the water

I smelled Lake Superior in my summer gear

I warmed up by the campfire

I smiled until my face hurt

I watched a hawk ride the currents

I heard my first circkets of the year

And I missed you

And my missing made me feel more alone

Then I did what you said

I turned to my boys

And I shared it all with them

I watched their eyes light up

And I understood

Sharing is better

When you share with a friend

Thank you for that gift.

May 6, 2005 - Entry #2 - Friday Fun

Well, we seem to have gotten over the croup - a few lingering hacking coughs here and there but I'm pleased to say everyone is well and happy.

I wanted to write today about something my boys and I do every Friday after school because today I realized how much it has come to mean to all of us. We have a family night that we call Friday Fun. No homework. No music practice. No other obligations but our family and perhaps a neighbourhood child or two who tags along. We try and plan activities that are child centered, joyful, outdoors if possible and just plain fun.

Today we went fossile hunting. It was awesome. The Brickworks on Bayview Ave. is a City of Toronto Conservation Area or Green Space and my kids and I spend a lot of our time there - which is wonderful for the simple fact that what we have been finding is that the more time you spend in one place and the more familiar you become with it that the more you notice and come to anticipate. And this time of year is just so full of wonderful things to see and hear and touch and smell. It is a complete and wholesome experience for our senses. And there is nothing more relaxing to my kids and I than being filled with that sense of wonder that nature brings.

Before we even got to the fossils we checked for turtles in the big ponds right near the parking lot - we saw 3 large painted turtles and 2 smaller snappers sunning themselves on the logs in the pond. The boys caught water striders and got grossed out by pond scum. They found stinging nettle by one of the ponds - unfortunately Jacob didn't believe me that stinging nettle means that it STINGS! However, it lead to a long discussion about plants and their characters and the usefulness of stinging nettle as a plant - how nourishing it is and how to dry it and use it in teas. I also showed the boys the proper way to harvest it - the underside of the leaves have no stingers so if you are very careful you can usually get away without getting stung.

As we wondered slowly into the Brickworks we found a robins nest high in a fir tree, checked out the sandy patch where the turtles climb up at night to lay eggs this time of year, saw another couple of turtles, exclaimed about the tamarack trees in bloom, found that shady corner of one of the ponds where the giant abandoned goldfish hang out and found about seven red winged black birds nests among the reeds.

Fossil hunting was fun - there is a bed of shale along one side of the brickworks - it's from a 438 million year old lake bed that used to be there. We had brought a hammer and goggles so they could break some of the rock and look - we spent an hour totally engaged and engrossed in hunting for treasure. We found shell fossils, fossils of maple keys and wings and a back bone of something. The kids were facinated and had a great time. I sat back on a log in the fading light of the glorious day in May and watched a duck preen herself and saw a pair of cormorants land and then take off in their strangely graceful way. I watched the swallows glide and feld content to sit in the bottom of this ancient lake listening to the water fall while my kids smashed stones and just take in everything I could see and hear around me.

A trip to the Brickworks is never complete without climbing the billy-goat trail up the mountain to the look out and sitting there admiring the view for a bit. Then it's a run down the hill and back to the car and home for dinner - rosey cheeked, everyone smiling and treasures in our pockets!

Joy #1 - The house all to myself

April 26, 2005 - Entry #1 - Adventures with Croup

My kids are all home sick today with what I am supposing is croup. Croup is common this time of year when the weather has been a bit whacky and the children have been outside perhaps not dressed as warmly as was appropriate because they were so excited about the warm weather and sunshine. It's a joyful thing to shed those winter jackets and hats, but we've probalby done it too early this year!

Eli, who is three, especially had a rough night last night - He slept beside me all night so I could keep an eye on his temperature and his breathing. The poor wee thing - any deep breath he would take would result in an episode of hacking cough. He was so uncomfotable and miserable. The two older boys have also had that deep hacking cough for a few days. Croup is interesting that way - the kids seem really fine all day long unless they are overly physically active but once they go to bed the coughing really starts and just continues all night long.

Ah well, so I'm tired today, I've been up for two nights now with Eli. I've moved into that nursing-the-children kind of state. Moving in slow motion, paying attention, being watchful, speaking softly, trying to be sure they are nurtured and comfortable. The children are doing quiet things all day - we have them bundled warmly into little nests with books and favourite toys and we have been reading aloud to each other and looking at photoalbums (an activity they love). Rest and stillness is important with croup, well, with any illness really. I am making sure that they are getting easy to digest foods like homemade soup and fruit and rice and I'm keeping them warm so that their immune systems can go after the virus. We did a really fun visualization together of their white blood cells which looked like knights from king arthurs court attacking the virus that is giving them the coug which looked like a bad fire breathing dragon. The knights won. Good old psychoneuroendocrinology. I am making sure they are getting nice warm herbal tea - chamomile, plaintain, marshmallow and sage. I've also been giving them an appropriate immune building herbal combination that contains a few immune boosting and antiviral herbs. I am monitoring temperatures and watching for fever. I am using my warm air vapourizer with eucalyptus and lavender essental oils in their room and that seems to be soothing for them. I am giving them lots of love and attention and reassurance - such a strong cough can be scary for a little one. I put an onion in unpasteurized honey yesterday and it's breaking down well - I should be able to use that this evening before bedtime as a cough syrup. I am slso planning on not using essential oils in the vapourizer tonight - instead I will use the vapourizer plain and give each child the homeopathic that acutely matches his individual symptoms.

Well, I'm off to fill up hot water bottles and make another pot of tea. Wish me luck!