Growing Family

Colleen's Gifts

I met my friend Colleen when I was a teenager returning from Russia, and needing a place to finish high school. She ran a home school tutorial program that welcomed eclectic students like me. Over the years she introduced me to classical literature and expected that I, all of us, could grapple with, and absorb great works. Those works were the first gifts she gave me. 

School was finished and I was nineteen years old, planning a large and gorgeous wedding, on a shoestring budget. 

"Come in and see what I've got available" Colleen said. She had stacks of gorgeous table clothes, crystal dishes, and silver. She opened up her store of treasures and offered them to me.

Quite some time later, three children in, I was visiting Nashville from Sydney, and Colleen gifted me with some of her wonderful jewelry from the business she runs, restoring and remaking antique lovelies. To be precise, she invited me to come view her collection, and choose several pieces. It was a wonderful, and meaningful gift and the pieces I chose are staples in my jewelry rotation.

When Colleen heard that I was coming to Nashville from Houston, and driving, she said "come dig in my garden, I've got plenty that will grow in Houston." So today I arrived with empty containers, and three eager children, and spent an entire blissful afternoon in Colleen's garden.

Everyone got stuck into working...until they discovered the re-purposed wheelbarrow.

Isn't the garden house lovely? I could live in it, I think.

After collecting lenten rose, bergamont, day lilies, geranium, naked lady lilies, hydrangea, grasses, and yucca, we turned to tea, which of course was much more than a simple cuppa. 

Colleen made cucumber sandwiches, and peanut butter jelly for the littles, scones with cream and jam, sliced strawberries, and chocolate biscuits. There was piping hot earl grey with cream and sugar. There was china, and crystal, and cloth napkins, out on the patio, because that is the way Colleen has tea with friends.

Colleen has always encouraged my writing, and makes me feel as if I am something particularly special. I know for a fact she makes many people feel that way. What a gift to be generous with your affection, generous with your possessions, and generous with your life.

 I love to live surrounded by beauty, and I aspire to share the environment I create with others. I hope to live like Colleen, tipping my full cup out over and over again, continually finding more to give. Like her naked lady lilies in the garden, swollen bulbs of strength and promise, multiplying in such a way that she gave me two buckets full and still had enough to redistribute about her own garden.

She's really stunning, don't you think?

 

Spring Break

It's Spring Break for our happy family and we are so thankful! To be honest, Sprout cried in dismay when she discovered that spring break is only one week long here in America. We truly miss the Australian term system. Regardless, we are taking the opportunity for rejuvenation in both hands, and making the most of it!

Yesterday we drove fourteen hours from Houston to Tennessee to spend the holiday at my parent's house. My dad came to Texas to help me drive out, since The Captain still had to work this week. I was fascinated with the Louisiana swamplands, and the meadows of yellow wildflowers that seemed to float between the draped trees. Small Sun was convinced he saw and alligator, and maybe he did! We cut north through Mississippi and I imagined the stories of Mildred Taylor coming to life in the woods and field.

All through the South, and up through Alabama, the legendary Civil Rights cities flashed by: Hattiesburg, Tuscaloosa, Birmingham. 

Finally reaching our destination, we rolled down the driveway with the headlights off, cut the engine, and snuck into the house to yell "surprise!" to my mother, who was expecting us, of course, but didn't know we'd arrived yet.

My parent's house is a beacon of comfort. Twinkle lights shimmer in the trees that anchor the path to the house. Stars swirl overhead in the deep country sky. In the house a fire snaps and crackles in the wood burning stove, and in our bedroom more twinkle lights wink as the children burrow down beneath piles of heritage quilts, as Omi (Grandma) reads them a bedtime story.

Today we spent hours outdoors. We caught a giant tadpole and two frogs in the pond, pulled the sinking boat up onto shore to empty it and discover a bullet hole that my father inadvertently put there, no doubt (squirrels are his eternal nemesis). We worked hours on the tree house that started as an idea to hang some swings, and now rises to grand heights, boasting stained glass windows and a loft. In my family we are dreamers and builders, before all else. 

I passed the time with daffodils and lenten rose, the first flowers brave enough to show their faces in the winter that is still reigning here. 

And of course my mother feeds us. Then she gives us snacks. She feeds us more, and heaps on dessert. Last night she tucked me into bed and I fell asleep along with my children.

I didn't grow up in this house. My parents built it after I married, but it has become the home we look forward to returning to, the magical place we bring our children to spend hours in the woods and fields, adventuring and filling their lungs with clean air.

It's going to be a wonderful spring break.

Sprout's Breath

So, I've got a child who can't breathe through her nose. She hasn't been able to for months, actually. She had a bit of a cold while we were in Fiji, but it never cleared after we arrived in Houston. I thought it would pass, but it hasn't. 

I took her to the doctor and she prescribed allergy medication. It helped some, but only when she took it nonstop. I went back to the doctor and explained that Sprout still can't breathe, even with the allergy meds, and asked that we talk about testing to see WHAT she is reacting to. 

The food is different here, their air is different, the house is different, the pollens are different...it could be ANYTHING. The doctor said it is pointless to test her because after testing her the solution will be "take allergy medicine". I asked about alternative treatments and the pediatrician eyeballed me and asked "do you have a problem with her taking these drugs?"

"Yes, I do. If they are not helping to clear up the problem, and pumping unnecessary drugs into her system with no benefit, then yes, I am not really a fan."

We left with a second prescription to add to the first one. Guess what? Sprout's still stopped up.

I just received our first set of essential oils. I am trying doTerra's Breathe and On Guard to start. 

If you have any suggestions for clearing air passages, and reducing allergic reactions naturally, please leave a comment!

What Animal Do You Want Me To Be Forever?

Finch is a funny creature who plays one thing, constantly, madly, entirely, until he's done. Then he takes up the next obsession for a few weeks or months.

Right now we're stuck in "What Animal Do You Want Me To Be Forever?" After we settle on an animal (which is very hard since he strikes down all my suggestions, finally to choose something himself), we have to establish several other characteristics. 

Do you want me to be a grown up or a baby? (again, he wants me to participate, but he will disagree with whatever I propose.)

How about I be a female? (the only exception is when he's playing Peacocks because in that case the males are more beautiful.)

What should my name be? (Usually something that goes with the animal name - Tara the Turtle, Harriet the Horse, or Penny the Penguin.)

Once we have the details settled he demands to see a picture of the animal in question. I pull up a google image search on my phone and he flips through until he settles on the picture that embodies his character. "This one! I'm this one!" 

Sometimes, as a last step, I am asked to draw and cut out the animal in question, but that is leftover from the last obsession (months of drawing and cutting out animals!).

Then, he's off to play. He prances around on hooves, or slithers along the tiles, or swipes about with vicious claws, or asks wide eyed "why does a platypus hatch from an egg if it is warm blooded?"

We have to stop multiple times to reiterate the species, age, gender, and name of his chosen animal. It becomes tiresome.

Then, just as we're hitting our stride, another animal catches his eye in a book, on a screen, or in his imagination. Next thing I know I'm being asked "What Animal Do You Want Me To Be Forever?"

Here we go again.

Devonshire Tea

First, a note about best friends.

I have quite a few people I think of fondly as my "best friend". If you're reading here and you know you are my best friend, and I'm talking about another best friend, you're not being slighted in the least. I love you all so dearly, and am going to feel free to talk about best friends from now on!

I'm part of the Teacher Appreciation Committee at our small school. I show my appreciation through baking the few things I bake well. Even though I received a note that the teachers are trying to eat more healthily, I wanted to share one last luxurious treat before I start whipping up fruit smoothies or the like. 

 In Australia you can order Devonshire Tea at cafes and tea houses, and it consists of a pot of tea (with cream and sugar), hot scones, a bowl of  whipped or clotted cream, and a bowl of jam. You slice open a steaming scone, heap each side with cream, then jam (or jam, then cream - it's controversial) and then eat it, each bite squishing delicious sweetness. You can order  Devonshire Tea by yourself, and it will be enjoyable, but it is best eaten with a friend. You argue about what comes first, cream or jam, and how much of each, and in what ratio. It is a kind of communion, this sharing of a plate.

I can't remember now if my best friend N introduced me to my first scone or not. So many of my girlfriends in Sydney considered it a ritual to be shared whenever possible. When you think about scones you may think of dense goodies, tucked full of raisins or bits of chocolate. By contrast, my friend N's scones are little pillows of fluffy delight. They set the tongues of the church grannies wagging, they are risque scones. The jam is the heaviest thing on them.

When it came time for us to leave Australia, we hosted a play date  at the park for all of our school friends to come and say goodbye. I am still amazed when I think of the turnout we received. You couldn't swing a cat without knocking out three kids in our school's uniform. They filled the sand pit, they ruled the swings, they climbed the spider's web, and they helped each other on the flying fox. People brought food, pictures were taken right and left, and we stayed until dusk, finally dragging ourselves away, arms round each other's shoulders until we climbed into our cars, wet, sandy, loved

In the midst of that wonderful crowd, I found N. She had a basket, lined with a pretty tea towel, filled with scones and a pot of jam. I can't remember now if there was cream or not, but I watched her circle the park, graciously offering this sacred food to all my people. From time to time, we'd smile at each other across the crowds in the silent way that a deep friendship makes room for others, and serves others. 

This morning I arose in the dark, while all the house was sleeping, and I tied my apron over my pajamas.

With my recipe book before me, I followed N's Lemonade Scone recipe, as I have many times before. I sifted flour, and watched the lemonade bubble and foam before mixing the ingredients with a knife, just so, like N taught me. I pressed the cool, moist dough onto my floured benchtop, leaving the gentle shapes of my fingers on the surface. I cut the scones out using a pretty glass, and then watched them puff and rise in the oven, all while the house slept. 

These rituals are home rituals, regardless of where I am. This food is love food, prepared with all the grace of good memories, and generosity of heart. When I thought of what I could do to show my children's new teachers that I appreciate the thoughtfulness and care they are extending my little dear ones, I knew right away what to do. Make them Devonshire Tea, just like N taught me.