At first there was only darkness, emptiness all around. There was nothing to feel, nothing that could be heard. But then she stirred and there was light. The girl’s eyes burned red as the light enveloped her and she was suddenly awake. The bright red light poured through her vision and pulsed into her mind and there was nothing else.

After a time, the girl began to become restless with the light and it seemed to grow dimmer for her until it was no more than a yellow haze, so then she opened her eyes and again the bright light consumed her, but this time she recoiled from it. As she clenched her eyes shut once more, she sensed the first tingling of feeling across her eyes and in surprise she yelped in pain. The feeling slowly intensified as the girl desperately tried to lose herself in it, but then it was spreading and her nerves began to scream at her.

Then there was nothing but pain. A pain that spread from her eyes across her face, through her sinuses to her ears and nose, and then mouth at which she screamed. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, the pain moved down her body consuming her heart and stomach, chest and legs, until she was clenching her fists and flailing her legs desperately.

It was when the pain had consumed her entire body and she was completely lost to it that a new sensation pierced her senses and poured down her arm from a desperate outstretched finger. Not pulsing and hot like the pain, but suddenly cool and soothing, and prickling with a new energy. Like the pain that it followed, the cold, ticklish feeling flowed over her until her skin was enveloped by the swirls of sensation that lashed over her body, making her gasp with relief and delight.

Slowly she moved her finger slightly, causing an ice-cold sliver to roll down her hand and back into her, and she gasped again and the movement caused fresh chills leaping across her chest and down her legs, and she consumed herself to the feeling, feeling which left her writhing with pleasure and gasping with delight at every fresh brush against her skin. The cold soon pulsed like the red hot pain and after a few seconds of blissful agony she collapsed again and lay still.

As her breathing slowed and the pulses of feeling faded away she finally opened her eyes once more; and there was light.

The sun was now peeking over the hills to the east and sending shafts of clear white light down on to the fields, and was caught in the raindrops hiding in the long grass. The lacklustre wind sent the blades gently billowing down across the rolling landscape, flying small patters of raindrops across the sunlight once more. In the coolness of the morning there were even a few spirits of frost hiding and spreading themselves out amongst the shrubbery, but they would run from the sun before too long. The light spirits danced over them singing and laughing merrily as they shrunk back from the heat, and started to sink back into the earth.

Eleanor looked at the world and saw that it was good.

She watched the light spirits for a while; the little glowing dancing figures of bright white which leapt over the fields and chased out the wide eyed creatures hiding in the shadows. One of the fairy-like spirits danced up to her and leapt through her hair and across her chest, and Eleanor giggled madly as the spirit landed elegantly on her knee, bowed, and ran off to follow the rising dawn.

Eleanor sat up gingerly, still smiling from the little shoots of feeling that the cold wind shot across her, but with a considerable sense of relief that it no longer was as strong as it was. Gingerly she tried to stand up, her feet sliding on the wet mud and sending her collapsing forward face first back into the grass. Laughing again, she struggled back up and got to her feet after another attempt.

The world around her filled her senses. The chattering birds in the trees to her left had calmed a little now since the light spirits had moved on, but instead sang their morning songs to the rustling trees. Eleanor looked down to the next field where the early mist still hovered and caught sight of the light spirits dancing round it, taunting the rain for wanting to stay in the bright morning. Slowly she took a few hesitant steps down the hill to the field, and when she was sure of herself, started to run.

Again, she couldn’t help but grin madly as the disturbed raindrops in the long grass splashed against her skin, and as her foot landed heavily in a puddle she caught the cry of alarm from the water spirit she had disturbed. She laughed and ran on, clambering over the fence which separated the fields and falling heavily into the mud on the other side. She shook her head, and took a brief glance at the mix of mud and a little blood that now covered her hands; before laughing at the shooting and fleeting pain and ran on towards the mist.

The light spirits opened up for her as she approached and began to dance round her, encouraging her to join in. Eleanor sprang up and kicked, and pranced, and waved, and sang with the flashing white spirits as the mist retreated before them. Just occasionally she caught a glance at the spirit hiding inside, who was sullenly shouting at the spirits round him and desperately trying to grab its raindrops close to it. After a few minutes the mist spirit finally seemed to admit defeat and fell back to the ground and the light spirits cheered, their high resonant voices echoing around the fields. Their song finished, they then, as one, bowed to Eleanor in thanks and flew back towards the sun. Eleanor bowed back to them and waved as they spiralled back into the sky to find another likely spot for a dance.

Now aching from her exultations with the light spirits, Eleanor wandered back across to the edge of the field and sat down heavily against the roots of an old tree, staring at the wide panorama of the morning. Absent mindedly, she gently plucked a brightly spotted mushroom and squashed it between her fingers, letting the mush slop down her hand.

“Hey!” A sharp voice, almost nasal, directed at her. “Leave that alone!”.

Eleanor rolled over on to her chest and found herself nose to nose with a small gnomish creature with a long green nose and half-buried branch-like legs in the wet mud. She supposed that the little thing, whose hairy ears were flapping in the wind, was rather irritated.

“Why?” she whispered back, and the little creature blinked back at her with deep dark green eyes.

But all this did was to draw a long, protracted stare.

“Are you an Earth spirit?” she asked playfully.

“‘Course I bloody well am, think these shrooms just spring out the ground, do yer?” he replied sharply, and stared at her menacingly. “You’re Eleanor ain’t yer?”

Eleanor shrugged, and plucked up another mushroom.

“Oi!“ the spirit cried immediately. “Stop that! Do you need to kill all me crop as well as getting’ them light spirits all excited and keeping all the water away? We’re not going to get any good mist down ‘ere for bloody ages now!”

Eleanor giggled at him and prodded him with her finger, making him rock backwards.

“Don’t be so picky” she said softly, as the sprit mumbled his disquiet and tried to replant one of his legs.

“Don’t you go proddin’ me, young miss, I was raisin’ acorns before you was even thought of!” Eleanor rolled her eyes, but smiled. “And anyways, there ain’t no call for you to be prancin’ about with all them sparkly bastards and upsettin’ everyone else round ‘ere. And in the all-together too, I don’t know; don’t know what the worlds comin’ to these days, I really don’t. Ain’t anyone told you you was naked?”

Eleanor shrugged. “No?”

“Well you bloody well are!” the spirit yelled back. “Now stop pullin’ up all me shrooms!” And with that, he bent back and thrust his head back into the mud.

Eleanor stayed in the fields for the next few days, persuading some friendly earth spirit to let her sleep in their burrow at night, and eating the mushrooms and fruits that she found in the bright sunshine of the day. Despite the occasional mutter of disapproval from the gnomish spirits amongst the trees, she stayed naked.

The days passed slowly for Eleanor; each morning she would wake up before sunrise and wait for the light spirits to come prancing out from the dawn and help to chase the down the shadows and mists, but by the third day they barely had any opposition. She would then wander around the fields for hours on end, running through the grass, trying to leap over the fences, eating whatever fruit she found or talking to the spirits that love the daylight.

She chatted with the gloomy and smelly water spirits that sat sullen in puddles near the edge of the fields, trying to excite them to chase her; but they never did, and she would always end up stamping on them in frustration. She’d shout at the winds until an air spirit would come down to see her at which point she’d to try and persuade it to take her flying; but the best she ever managed to get would be to get the invisible wisp spirit to whistle through her hair. Occasionally she got a few words from the huge tree spirits, though it was usually only a angry deep grumble for her to leave them alone.

By the evening she would switch sides and club together with the spirits who love the shadows and chase all the light shadows out of the fields, before lying back and staring at the stars, trying to will them down to play with her. But they never did.

The rushing sensations of the first morning never returned to her; but she still felt the world around her keenly, the sun felt hot and comforting and every scrape, brush or cut against her skin would make her yelp and smile. On the fourth day she started to explore a little further beyond the first couple of fields, and in the next one she found a large pond and befriended the bright and welcoming water spirit that lived there. The sprit let her swim and splash for hours, and affectionately cleaned her down and squirted water at her to make her laugh. However by the end of the day the spirit grew weary of her constant intrusion and finally asked her to let his water lie still for a while. In response Eleanor plucked up a particularly disapproving mushroom spirit that had been complaining the whole day long and threw it into the pond, and she left them arguing.

Soon she knew her way intimately around the half dozen fields that covered the little valley. When she caught herself looking outside the fields, perhaps to the lofty hills or to the wall of high hedges at the far end of the topmost field, she would look away again quickly and forget what she had seen.

By the sixth day she had found that she had walked all the way round the fields three times without seeing anything she didn’t already know. Most of the spirits were ignoring her now; the earth spirits were leaving, angry at the constant interruptions at night; and Eleanor followed their slow progress, by paw, by twig, and by tiny claw as they left the fields through a hole in the top fields’ hedgerow. She didn’t dare follow. Even the light spirits and shadow spirits were ignoring her now, annoyed at her constant shifting allegiance each dawn and dusk. By the evening the meadows felt cold and unfriendly, and she was forced to sleep above ground, as all the earth spirits had gone and caved in their burrows after them.

The next morning she awoke hungry, afraid and colder than she had ever felt. The fruits had been finished the previous day, and the only spirits she could see creeping on the fields were skulking frost spirits. Eleanor wrapped her arms around her knees and cuddled herself against the cold, tears quietly falling from her cheeks.

Her mind suddenly felt empty, and the cold blasts of wind that had once excited her now seemed to be mocking her in her weakness. She rolled over, sobbing quietly, and lay back against a barren apple tree, but the roughness of the bark just seemed intrusive and painful to her now.

Her desperate eye caught her own hands, and found them to be skeletal, and weak.

“What’s going on?” she shouted suddenly, and her cracked voice echoed a little in the morning gloom.

It was then she turned and her eyes caught sight of a small spirit the like of which she had not seen before. It was in the form of a small female dormouse, with a small cluster of baby pups around her, but it seemed bold and was watching Eleanor intently.

Eleanor, very gently, lay face down in front of the watching spirit until its twitching nose was no more than a few inches from Eleanor’s tearful eyes.

“What are you?” Eleanor whispered, her words bubbling through her sobs.

“What are you doing Eleanor?” the mouse whispered back, so gently she had to strain to hear it. “Didn‘t you want to know more than these fields?” Eleanor blinked as her tears began to dry up, and then smiled suddenly as a tiny pup lost a teat momentarily before gaping and suckling once again.

“Are you a life spirit?” Eleanor breathed, as softly as she could. The spirit still winced slightly.

“Listen to me child.” the spirit squeaked back. “You are wandering why all the spirits in these fields didn’t want to stay with you. You don’t understand why they would not want to play with you, and look after you. You can’t blame them, they are only doing what they know.” The spirit looked away momentarily to stop a young pup moving too far away.

“But I’m the same aren’t I?” Eleanor gasped, suddenly hearing the panic in her voice. “I’m a spirit of the field just like they are right?” The life spirit blinked and looked at her sadly.

“No, child. You’re much more than that. You’re different.”

“No, I’m not!” Eleanor replied immediately, but her shout startled the pups who cried suddenly. The life-spirit didn’t reply for a few minutes as she calmed her pups, and Eleanor was lost in the gentleness of her care towards her young. Finally the spirit turned back to her.

“Yes, you are, Eleanor.” she whispered, even more quietly than before. “And it is a very special thing that you are. You will always be amongst us but you are more than we are.” Eleanor leaned in even closer so she didn’t miss a word.

“What am I?” she breathed. The spirit appeared to pause for a moment.

“I do not know.” she admitted finally. “But do you not think you should find out? You cannot stay in these fields because you will not be able to stay with the spirits. You are cold and afraid, and you are hungry. And you long for more than these fields.”

Eleanor cried once more when she heard those words as she recognised the truth in them. As fresh tears rolled down her pale and mud-caked cheeks, she whispered desperately;

“But where should I go?”

The life-spirit looked down and shuddered slightly.

“The world is a big place, my child. It stretches way beyond these fields, and it is filled with spirits of all sorts that will be there for you if you want them. But it is not an easy place, Eleanor.” the dormouse added, looking back at her. “Go and find new fields. Stay and you‘ll only bring death, Eleanor.”

Eleanor shuddered at the coldness of her words, but she understood, and nodded.

“So I need to go look for new fields?” she asked, her voice cracking as she still cried.

“You will need to make new fields.” the spirit whispered back. “But before that you will need to know why.”

Eleanor shrugged. “Why what? What does that matter?” The spirit gently started to curl up so her pups were huddled close to her body.

“You will find out I’m sure.” she whispered, so faintly that the slight breeze stole the words away. “Now go. Make your choice. Leave these fields or deny it. You’re dying here, and my pups do not long for that.”

Eleanor’s eyes filled up with tears and she had to pull herself away to wipe her eyes clean. When she looked back the spirit had gone.

She felt it then – the harsh punch of hunger that was hammering her stomach, the fever that pulsed her head, the numbing cold that rendered her fingers and toes stiff. She would have to sweat and work hard for her food after all.

Slowly, with teardrops falling round her, she clambered to her weary feet and looked to the distant hedgerow at the top of her fields. Gingerly at first, she clumsily staggered towards it, clutching her stomach and moaning at her fever. As she walked, rain began to fall from the deepening clouds above her, and it made her slip and fall. But each time she would hear the little spirits in the raindrops whisper encouragement in her ears, so she would get back up and stride forward as fast as she could.

After a lifetime of torment she reached the hole in the hedgerow that the Earth spirits had left by. She slowly bent down and crawled into the narrow hole, and once again she could see light, a different light, from the other side.

Even through the pain Eleanor smiled. She knew that the life-spirit had been right – for fresh fields already lay before her.

We love it when Grannie comes to visit. Things happen around the house. Most of these things are funny Grannie-isms. And we laugh a lot with her and because of her. But most of all we love it when Grannie comes to visit because Beatrice and Harry and Eleanor love it. Here are six classic tell-tale signs that Grannie is in the house:

1. Our teacups breed, and plan complex escapes. They’re everywhere! Grannie must consume her bodyweight in tea and coffee every day, because the damn cups are everywhere. Bathroom? Check. On the bookshelf next to a book about princesses? Check. Next to the telly? Check. Arranged along the windowsill in Grannie’s Room? Check, check and check again. They’re mighty clever, these teacups: they don’t plan their escapes without provisions. There’s always a quarter-cup of tea left in each and every one to avoid dehydration.
2. Food disappears from your plate. At its most extreme, and with the reactions of a cat and the stealth of an owl (are owls stealthy? I’ve met quite a few that are!), any meat product may be taken at any time. Vigilance is required. More cunning is the Food Taste, prior to dishing up. An excellent context. Of late, the Mine-Sweeping of finished plates stacked in the kitchen has resulted in more food for Grannie’s tummy and less food for us to sacrifice to the Compost God.
3. You know those people statues you get in city-centres? The ones who are usually sprayed gold or silver and spend ages not moving an inch? Well, whenever Grannie comes to stay and it is bedtime, one of these people statues appears on the sofa: a Grannie-statue. On special occasions there is a prop (teacup, of course, usually at least half-full). The one modification to the Grannie-statue is that whenever the phrases ‘are you asleep?’, ‘is it not time for bed?’, or ‘are you watching that?’ are uttered, the Grannie-statue jerks to full alertness, mutters something about ‘bed’ and ‘in a minute’, before drifting happily back off to the land of nod. She has yet to start asking for money…
4. At least one obligatorily inane conversation is held in the kitchen, which is either about a relative, a trivial observation about the house, Beatrice and Harry learning, or chicken.  We chuckle lots.
5. The ironing pile disappears. We particularly love this phenomenon. And it’s easy to explain, too: iron and ironing board out into lounge + latest Federer match located on TV, or failing this, the latest period drama = stuff ironed. Brilliant!
6. Most importantly of all, Beatrice, Harry and Eleanor are Happy Bouncy Bunnies. And that makes Jen and me Happy Bunnies, too. Eleanor is still taking a little time to become a Happy Bouncy Bunny, because whenever Grannie arrives and says “Hello, Eleanor”, Eleanor puts on her I Am Truly Unhappy Right Now face and bursts out crying. I think she’ll eventually get over herself. But Beatrice and Harry utterly love seeing Grannie. They love reading with her, and showing her how to play with their toys, and going for walks and just finding out about stuff.

Like I said, we love it when Grannie comes to visit. Things happen around the house. Beatrice and Harry have been staying at Grannie and Grandad’s this weekend, which has worked really well. They’re back now and Grannie’s staying for dinner. I’m off to protect my food, and Eleanor’s just started crying.

Adeline, Eleanor, Amelia, Theodora, Beatrix, Sidony, Madeleine, Clementine, Henrietta, Ione, Lila, Delphia, Adele, Adela, Dora, Vera, Evelyn, Greta, Ingrid, Fern, Opal, Finola, Olive, Lyra, Willa, Angeline, Petra, Mina, Pearl, Mehitabel, Ellen, Keisha, Thora, Lucinda, Ramona, Naomi, June, Sarai, Thea, Evanthia, Thomasina, Tilda, Mirabella, Iole.

What do you think of these? which do you like? dislike and why? which could you see on a child born in the next couple of years?

Alice, Arabella, Bedelia, Clementine, Clover, Cordelia, Daisy, Esme, Eleanor, Flora, Fern, Hazel, Hannah, Imogen, Ida, Iris, Josephine, Jemima, Juniper, Lucinda, Madeleine, Margaret, Nola, Olive, Poppy, Pippa, Polly, Penelope, Primrose, Rose, Sally, Stella, Shiloh, Matilda, Tallulah, Theodora, Thomasina, Violet, Zipporah, Amelia, Annora, Maude, Clara.

Arthur, Bertram, Bartholomew, Baxter, Bruno, Bramwell, Chester, Cassius, Cato, Dexter, Dominic, Emerson, Emmett, Elliot, Fergus, Felix, Gregor, Gulliver, Isidore, Jasper, Ned, Orlando, Quentin, Rupert, Rafferty, Samson, Toby, Thomas, Theodore.

Thoughts? Suggestions?

Here’s what we’ve been up to lately. Enjoy.- Just Pics

Our Halloween Costumes (Ginny Weasley, Butterfly, Caterpillar, Harry Potter)

Ben casting his spell

Lucy shows off her rolling skills

Grandma Ruth with Jack the monkey

Grandpa Gary with George the pirate

Ellie's first Pony Ride- she is still talking about riding "Charlie"

Picking out a pumpkin

Posing for the obligatory pumpkin patch pictures

Eleanor gets to hold a baby rabbit- I love this shot!

Going on a hayride at the pumpkin patch with Grandma Ruth

Lucy at 6 months- Learning how to crawl

Eleanor is big enough to ride in the stroller now and enjoys being able to look around as we walk.  (Before, she had to ride in her carseat, which fits into the stroller, and she would always fall asleep).  Now she’s a big girl!  (of 4 1/2 months)!

So happy!

Is it really November already?  Seems like just last week the tomato vines were laden with heavy ripe fruit and we were eating garden-fresh salads daily… oh, and it wasn’t raining every dang day!

Yes, November is one of the wettest months in Vancouver, so when the sun is out we have to make good use of it.  Already this month I’ve dug up two patches of the front lawn for new veggie garden beds.  One, the garlic bed, is about 15′ x 2′ and it’s up against the hedge row on the east side of the house where it will get good sun for much of the morning and mid-day hours.  After two beautifully sunny days of working on this project–removing all that grass, and digging in 3 very full 5-gallon buckets of compost into the top 10-12″ of soil–Day 3 saw rain, rain, and more rain.  Nevertheless, I trudged out to the yard in full rain gear to plant 54 of the largest cloves of garlic I could get my hands on.  I finished off with a layer several inches thick of decaying leaves collected from my own yard, my neighbor’s yard, and even the street.  About the garlic, some 20 cloves are a hardneck type called Music that I purchased from one of my favorite Farmer’s Market vendors–Brian from Sheffield Farm.  The rest are supermarket garlic–smaller, less pungent, but guaranteed to be organically-raised and as local as you can get.  I know, I know, 54 heads of garlic sounds like a lot, and maybe it is, but I’d rather have too much than too little.  It’s fun to share!

Besides, I was inspired to try growing enough for a whole year when I recently attended a workshop on the long-term storage of raw foods like squash, pumpkins, onions, garlic, potatoes, tubers and root vegetables.  The class focused on how to cure veggies for storage and how to decide where to store them so that they receive appropriate amounts of moisture, warmth, light or dark–just as you decide where to plant what in the outdoor garden based on the “micro-climate” of a given spot (how much sun it gets, how well-drained the soil is, or whether the spot is warm and protected from wind due to a nearby wall, for instance).  The workshop, taught by Robin Wheeler (whose book Food Security For the Faint of Heart I devoured in a matter of days and ultimately got her to autograph!) was a nice complement to my recent interest in other types of food preservation such as canning and drying.  This summer saw my first rough attempts at hot water bath canning.  I did some whole, peeled tomatoes, tomato sauce, applesauce (from some beautiful Ambrosia and Gala apples obtained at the Farmer’s Market), huckleberry jam (a failure due to bad recipe calling for waaaaay too much sugar), blueberry-rhubarb jam (a winner), and spicy dill pickles.  I love the look of all those colorful jars up on the kitchen shelf and the feeling, not just of security and comfort knowing it’s all there waiting to be eaten, but of satisfaction and pride in having put it all by, all by myself:)

Oh yes, back to the garden work I’ve been up to… The other new bed that I created in the front yard is a large round area tucked up against the west side of the porch stairs, a perfect spot, some would say, for some lovely ornamentals and perhaps a colorful flower border.  But not me!  I transplanted my rhubarb crowns there and look forward to seeing their bright red stems and broad green leaves displayed next to the lilac bushes, tucked in with the perennials as if they belong there–and they do!

Since I’m renting, I’ve inherited a yard that is well-planted, but somewhat over-landscaped (for my tastes and purposes) in bushes, bulbs, and ornamentals.  My plan is not to commit to any major earth-works and not to invest too much time and effort in tearing stuff up and starting over, but to work with what I have, even if it means that I end up mixing veggie plants and berry bushes into the established perennial borders.  In fact, maybe the result will be all the better for being nice-looking as well as edible.  Edible landscapes are a recent phenomenon, you know… As an aside, I picked up a circa-1970’s gardening book from a thrift store over the summer and I was amazed (in a horrified kind of way) and kind of saddened to see the vegetable gardens all tucked away in hidden, unused corners where they do not detract from the look of the landscaped yard.  Interesting how times have changed…

Other stuff that’s changed since last I wrote–I know, I know, I’ve been really bad about updating this blog lately…  Well, I completed my yoga teacher training program at the end of June and taught two classes over the summer.  The first was nerve-wracking; the second went so smoothly and the response from my students was so positive, it was a major confidence booster.  I came out of that class feeling like I had really achieved something and had really made a major transformation from the beginning of the training program to the end.  I still don’t know if I want to pursue being a yoga teacher as a profession; that was never really my intention in deciding to enter the program.  I wanted to challenge myself to do it for the deeper understanding of yoga philosophy and physiology, as well as to push myself into a deeper commitment to my own yoga practice.  Unfortunately, summer visits, trips and the lack of free time due to no more Happy Hands for Eleanor have all conspired against my sustaining a regular yoga practice and, because I feel out of practice myself, I do not feel like I’m in a position to teach.  However, I’m trying to get back into a regular practice and I have noticed in the brochure of classes offered in the new community center that there’s no one teaching a mom-and-tot yoga class or a class for moms with child-minding available (it was for want of these types of programs when Eleanor was a toddler that I first got it into my head that I could become a teacher and offer them myself), so we’ll see what the following year holds…

Deciding to do the yoga teacher training program in December of last year also held out the hope of possibly being employable if Stephen’s job ended up taking us to Switzerland, where his boss was and presumably still is trying to start up an office.  Well, I don’t know if you all have noticed, but the economy hasn’t been that great lately and financial services companies have been especially hard hit.  Stephen’s employers are apparently doing just fine, but certain things like opening offices in Switzerland have taken the back burner for now.  That’s okay, though.  Stephen has decided that he wants to go back to UBC and complete his PhD.  He can continue working for his current employer nearly full-time and incorporate his work-work into the work he’ll be doing for the PhD so he can continue to be paid as he currently is and we can consider ourselves settled for the foreseeable future–which is a good thing for me since I just went to all the trouble of digging up two new garden beds and I’m sprouting asparagus from seed this winter and I won’t be able to harvest it for at least two years!

Here’s a thought…  Renters are hesitant to do much in-ground gardening and they certainly don’t bother to plant things like berry bushes and apple trees that take years to produce their first crop, mainly because they regard their adobes as temporary shelter, they know it’s only a matter of time before they move on and they don’t want to make long-term investments of which they’ll never reap the benefits.  Imagine, though, if every renter who felt that way went ahead and planted those long-yielding perennials anyway.  Then, every time they move, they wouldn’t have to mourn the loss of those raspberry canes or that strawberry patch, because they’d have fresh blueberries, and an established, productive asparagus patch to look forward to.  It would take a change of attitude on the part of renters everywhere: namely, to stop thinking of their gardens in terms of what it produces for them, or how much money it saves them, or that it’s even “their” garden.  A garden does not serve the gardener.  A garden is self-creative and self-renewing; planting one and cultivating it is a service to the earth and to one’s community.  Renters should go ahead and plant anything and everything that strikes their fancy, knowing that they’ve done their small part to heal a little piece of earth (and more, the more they frequently they move) and that one day down the road many, many people will enjoy the benefits of their labor, as as they themselves will go on to enjoy the benefits of someone else’s labor at their new place… Just a thought…

In other news, Eleanor’s doing great.  She’s as smart as a whip and very clever, too.  She’s got a real sense of humor these days and, though she doesn’t shy away from poot jokes, she’s also very mature for her age.  She’s in a combined three- and four-year-old preschool class for two hours two days a week.  Her favorite thing to do at preschool is dress up in the beautiful dress-up clothes.  She’s a real girly-girl.  She was also doing ballet and gymnastics once a week and a program called Happy Hands, which is just like preschool, all at the community center.  The center has been slated to move into a new location for a long, long time and the time had finally come… or so we thought.  The old center closed and took reservations already for classes at the new center, but they’ve just informed us that construction delays at the new center have held up the move once again, so everything is canceled for the rest of the year.  Boo hoo…  That community center was like a second home for me when Eleanor was young and we were new to Vancouver and to parenthood.  I started taking her there when she was just a baby; I met a lot of my neighbors and other moms there; Eleanor’s practically grown up at the tot gym there… and now it’s all over… and we’re stuck waiting around for the new center to open.  The new center will be very nice and I like that it has a library in it and it will be easier to get to from our new house.  In the meantime, Eleanor and I have been forced to find other things to do on the days that she doesn’t have preschool.  We’re discovering free drop-in playgroups and strong start learning centers all over the place.  Vancouver’s publicly-funded services for families cannot be beat!

Well, there’s a lot more I could write about.  Seeing as I haven’t blogged in well over half a year, I have a lot of catching up to do.  Knowing myself, I won’t make promises to be back often and fill in all the details of the summer months or recent projects taken up around here, but I’ll do my best.  Even if I never get into the habit of blogging about everything that goes on in my life, I would like to share more of my thoughts and philosophical ideas about the world and what in it is important to me–my family, community, good food, the environment, my garden, sustainability, politics… I could go on and on and on…

–

In the Rose of Time by Robert Fitzgerald
The Third Kind of Knowledge by Robert Fitzgerald

–

Eleanor love, love, loves puppies. And when asked what she wanted to be for Halloween there was no hesitation – a puppy. Granted every 5th time I asked her she would change the answer to crab, but I think that was just to tease me.

I have fabulous memories of home made halloween costumes -lady bugs, witches, princesses…. I also remember my mom staying up terribly late sewing. I don’t have the energy my mom had. I admit it. And I’m not as proficient with the sewing machine. So my approach is  a toned down version and so far I’ve been able to modify store bought clothes to get the costumes my children are interested in. In this case it was an all brown outfit with some blobs of tan felt quickly sewn on and a funky hand sewn fake fur made-up-as-I-went pull on tail.

The ears were from her birthday party and I just realized all these shots were before she put her collar on. It’s made of red ribbon with a puppy charm on it and was also made for her birthday back in May.

So in the end I paid $7 for a brown sweatshirt and 62 cents for some fur for the tail. I used what we had on hand for the rest. The great thing about halloween costumes is that even though I sewed I didn’t have to sew straight or even very well. Knots on the back of the fabric and puckers in the patches were ok. She wore the shirt 3 times. It’s not an heirloom. She can use the tail and even the shirt for dress up and I wont’ be concerned if she rips it.  Or maybe I’ll take the patches off. We’ll see how it does in the wash. I think she might be mad if I take them off.

Well I guess that this blog is turning more into a quarterly update than the bi-weekly update it used to be.  It seems the more children that come along the less frequently blogging happens.  Plus, I (Sheena) do facebook which keeps the pictures updated and makes me feel like everyone already knows what is going on already-I do realize that not everyone is on facebook so that is why we continue to blog. Blogging is also nice because it is like a journal that we can look at at a later date to see what was going on.   It’s good for memory-keeping.   We’ve printed off the entries we made before and after Gracie was born and put them in a binder and they are really fun to look at.  We are going to print the blog entries from when Eleanor was born soon.

Anyways, what’s been going on in Chicagoland?  Well the weather has been really rainy.  Trav looked at some weather records today and out of 31 days in October it rained 19 of them.   The most days since 1883.  We’ve gotten a total of 6 inches this month when the average is 2. Thankfully there has’nt  been too many  flooding problems.  This weekend Trav did a little yard maintenance, putting away stuff for the winter and raking leaves.  He also cleaned out the garage which seems to be nessecsary 1 to 2 times a year.  Is that unusual?  I don’t remember dad doing it that much.  I’ve been weeding through the piles of clothing in Gracie’s dresses which is always a monotonous job.

Trav has been enjoying teaching the fifth grade at Calvary.  It’s kinda nice to have a little idea of what to expect when it comes to parent-teacher conferences since he has had many of the students before.  He just finished with the conferences and they were uneventful which is the way we like them.  He’s been busy making up lesson plans at home and doing a lot of grading.  He’s also been testing out some new science experiments lately.  On Wednesday we parted ways (me to work and him to home with the girls) and he hoisted a big box into the van as I gave him the keys.  Our conversation was something like this. Me-“what’s that?”   Him- “ oh it’s just another experiment they sent me, I’m going to go home and practice blowing up some hydrogen…. See ya”.

Last night being October 31^st, we went for a nice walk through the fall leaves with a “pumpkin” and a “bee”.  Travis decided that in the next year or two he wants to have our family go as a hockey team.  He already has two kids Blackhawk jerseys.  We’ll need one more for next year though….  That’s kind of our sly way of saying that we are expecting again.  Trav says this time it will be a boy or twins.  We’ve told a number of people already, but today is when we announce it at church.

The girls are doing great. We feel we are nearing the end of the potty –training era with gracie, she has been doing really well lately. We are trying to only have 2 children, at a max, in diapers at a time. Gracie’s current favourite word is “no” which I’m sure is a favourite with many 2 year olds. She has an amazing memory, remembering all her uncles and aunts names and even who has given her what ( birthday gifts, etc.)-not that she keeps track!  The other day when were walking home from touring the neighbourhood  Halloween festitivities she said to me.”If I say please or go on the potty I get candy!”  Trust me it’s not that easy at our house! But she does sometimes get candy for going on the potty.  Eleanor is growing up so fast.  She still does not crawl although we have been having lots of tummy time everyday.  She gets very frustrated on her belly as she can only go backwards and all her toys just seem to move away from her.   She’s so talkative. She isn’t really saying any words yet but she is almost always making noise.  We were laughing the other day because sometimes it sounds like she’s leaking sound like a punctured inflatable.  She is most definitely a mommy’s girl.  If she could have her way she would have me holding her 24/7.  Totally opposite in that way from Gracie at that age.

I’m feeling well and have felt the baby move few times which is always both comforting and exciting.  I’ve been trying to be daring in my domestic activities.  I tried canning tomatoes which, as far as I can tell, was successful.  It was lots of work and you need LOTS of tomatoes.  I’m really active with MOPS ( Mothers of Preschoolers) at church and have really been enjoying getting to know other moms going through what I’m going through.  Recnelty we had a speaker come to MOPS that spoke about frugality, which is totally up my alley, and I learned some really fascinating stuff.  I am now trying to put into practice (mostly coupon stuff).  Every penny counts. I have also been looking to get more involved with women and children’s ministries.  I want to focus on mostly ministry to women and children in distress like in slave/sex trafficking and poverty.  I am really seeking the Lord’s leading on this because I feel rather limited seeing as I have little ones still but I feel I need to do something.

Anyways, that’s a little of what is going over here.  Hope all is well with you all and thanks for reading!

OK, so she’s no Jedi, and she can’t really talk properly, and she can’t walk either, nor can she be bothered to shuffle or roll around, but she exerts an amazing degree of mind control over those around her. And that has to be Jedi-esque. Here’s what Eleanor’s up to at the mo’:

She sits quite happily without any need for support. She does, however, require a range of soft landings strategically placed around her: initially, once bored of sitting up, she’d throw herself backwards to inspect her feet (cushion behind her), but now she’s experimenting with flopping forward as she grabs at something in front of her (no cushion required – her legs adequately break the fall), and leaning to one side to work out her tipping point (two cushions required – one each side). She has a baby-gym thing, which is essentially a big rubber ring with some pretty material covering, but there’s more fun to be had in allowing her to explore her balance when just plonked on the floor in front of you.

She’s learnt how to yell. Not something we are particularly proud of, but good on her for realising that with two other siblings to compete with, noise is a good way to get noticed. Interestingly she appears to have upped the stakes for Beatrice and Harry, who have evolved a horrendous habit of exchanging primal screams and guttural grunts. Typically they save the best ones for when Jen is in public with them, or we have guests.

More pleasing is that Eleanor is learning to babble. She’s really into her BABABABABABABABAing, which I love. Her tone changes depending on whether she is trying to win a smile from you, or ask you about your day, or grass up her brother and sister.

Giggles, too. They’re simply ace. She’s just as ticklish as everyone else in the house, and she’ll offer herself up for a tickle and a giggle at bath-time or nappy changes. Lovely!

She’ll nod for you and mimicks you really nicely. Her own little tribute to the Churchill adverts. She’s also learning to shake her head, although at the moment it looks a bit demented: does the image of a grinning baby metal-head give you an idea?

She’s eating stuff. And it’s turning her poo funny colours. Didn’t need to know that really, did you? Still, eating is good.

Beatrice and Harry are her permanent entourage, at once entertaining, fetching, chatting, cuddling: I suspect she’s actually pulling the Jedi Mind Trick on their still immature brains. She’s got us adults well-trained too, though. When being carried, she’ll point you in the direction she wants to go. If she’s unhappy with your interpretation of where she wants to go, she’ll swish her head around. And if you really aren’t doing what you’re told, she’ll literally launch herself out of your arms towards her desired destination.

She’s so willful it makes stubborn Mr McStubborn, holder of the Most Stubborn Man in the Universe award look like the meekest, most compliant person you’ve ever met. This comes to the fore at mealtimes and at night-time. She woke tonight, for example, and decided she was hungry and wanted Mummy. She wasn’t hungry. But she did want Mummy. Unfortunately for me, Jen and I had earlier agreed that today we’d start to try and break her habit of looking for comfort in the night. So after a commendably patient effort, I manage to stop her crying and start to enjoy our cuddle. But then she starts looking at the bed, and more specifically, where Jen would be were she in bed. I manage to distract for a bit, but all-too-soon she’s back, looking over my shoulder, twisting her head around letting me know in no uncertain terms that daddy’s presence is not currently required, it’s mummy or bust. And next she’s starting to BABABABA me into submission, before finally giving it the full Eleanor yell. Now some might argue that I can at times be quite a determined individual, but I was no match for Eleanor. I’m not even in the same league. So after an hour or so of negotiation, Eleanor holds out, gets Mummy and relegates Daddy to the humbling role of taxi-carrier. We’ll start the whole breaking-the-habit-thing tomorrow…

Fair enough, she’s no Jedi, but the force is strong in her.

Remember Alphaville’s Big in Japan? I spent approximately 4 hours remixing the opening 20 seconds with Steve, as we sought inspiration in pear cider. We were pretty pleased with it, having managed to overcome inital artistic differences (“I like that high-hat against the intro”, “Well, I don’t, and it’s my computer, so we’ll leave it”), before saving it as a work in progress, ready for another go on another day. I worry that it’ll be all-too-long again, though. Last time we visited Jen and Steve, Eleanor wasn’t even a discussion, let alone seven months old. It’s always the way, though. Time seems to speed by in between seeing the people you really enjoy seeing. Come to think of it, there might have been a visit to ours at one point last year: I recall suffering from Wii-elbow following my first efforts at Bowling (a five-hour marathon), and feeling like I’d introduced Steve to some nice Trance tracks. And, of course, Jen and Emily met up with us in Woolacombe over the rainy Summer… Ha! I digress.

We all went to Brighton on Saturday. That’s SteveJenEmily and JenMeBeatriceHarryEleanor. According to Steve, there was a train to catch at 10:14. According to his Jen there probably wasn’t. We arrived at the station slightly flustered, got confused by a late train and ended up taking a more scenic journey on a completely different train. Hmm, flustered is a good word: we all piled into two cars to get to the station (a task requiring military planning at the best of times), and at the last minute Jen decided to travel with Jen. That left me needing to travel with Steve, except he was parked around the corner and no-one had deemed it remotely important to inform him that he ought to wait for me. Imagine my surprise when, as I rounded the corner, Steve sped off towards the station. One hasty phonecall and three minutes later, and he returned to collect me, but that was us late then. Still, we beat the dastardly traffic lights and roundabouts, and got to the platform just in time to get confused by the late train and get on the completely different one. Reckon we arrived in Brighton about 2.64 minutes later than we would have, and the kiddlywinks all loved watching the world go by and being a bit scared by the noisy tunnels, so all-in-all, a win!

Brighton obviously rocked: huge waves that were just too noisy for my kiddlywinks, making shakermakers out of empty drinks bottles stuffed with pebbles, playing in a cool park (accidentally stepping on a pigeon – it was accidental honest!), walking along the front, enjoying a Mickey D’s and a more relaxed return journey. Just nice. I’ll not go into detail of the ten-minute spell where all three of my kiddlywinks decided to wee/poo/poo some more…

Emily and Beatrice got on really well. They shared a room, which, rather than being the expected recipe for disaster (à la lessons from a caravan - see earlier post), meant that they had a lovely chat before falling asleep really well on both nights. Harry felt all important, being in with Mummy and Daddy and in charge of Eleanor, so that worked well too. All positives, really. It fascinates me just how easily the children picked up where they left off some months earlier, and just got on with enjoying each other’s company. The trampoline in the garden helped. The addition of one to our garden moves ever closer (spoke with Jen about it just this evening, but we opened a can of worms that started with needing to tidy some shrubs from a corner of the garden and ended up with rewiring the dining room, via some mention of skimming ceilings).

Being served a Full English on Sunday morning was grrreeaaattt! Getting another on the Monday was grrreeaaattt-err! Thanks, Jen! It was this kind of thing that (reflecting on the hectic time we’re having of it with the kiddlywinks) reminded us of the existence of a real life, where you are granted time to share what’s going on in your life with another adult, and have normal conversations about Alphaville and iPod Touches and pop down to the local for a couple of pints (whilst – I have to share this with you – grinning at the MENSA-esque level of  the Pub Quiz questions: at one point, a participant/competitor/professor was arguing with the Quizmeister about geosynchronous vs geostationary orbits). If it wasn’t gate-crashing the University Challenge Pub Quiz, it was accepting the fact that none of our children was ever going to fully grasp the concept of releasing Button B at the height (apex?!) of the upswing to ensure that their player bowled towards the pins rather than the crowd on the Wii. To be honest, they didn’t really care and nor did we. The delight came when they occasionally sent a ball (creeping so slowly I wanted to shake the TV) to gently nudge a few pins over.  They danced a jig of happiness, before returning to a state of confusion. Importantly, I had a Proud Daddy Moment, when Harry contrived to bowl a Strike!

If it wasn’t the inanity of Wii-Bowling, it was Beatrice overcoming her fear of hand-driers in toilets for a day (!); or Steve stepping on some random toy, falling and nearly landing on Jen/smashing his head on a wardrobe door; or Jen wondering if she’ll ever win the lottery to be able to purchase her ‘Back To The Future’ house; or the kiddlywinks trying cucumber and liking just the skin; stuff like that.

And then we visited AnnaOwenTedIsobel for an afternoon and a lovely meal. This involved the M25, so what should have been an hour’s journey ended up nigh-on a ridiculous three (with the now-obligatory “I need a wee” from Harry whilst in a slow-moving contraflow – we resolved this one with the help of a Garden Centre car park near the A1(M), which was lucky, as Jen pulled an exquisite hard-braking and full-lock turn to make the entrance). As we laboured through the delays, it was fun to text random thoughts from car to car, comparing whether children/drivers were asleep yet. My abiding memory of the journey, however, will be the fact that we had to (no, we really had to) listen to the same LazyTown CD for what felt like 27 times. On arrival at AnnaOwenTedIsobel’s, I was seriously contemplating an act of vandalism on the aforementioned CD. Oh, I just remembered, there was an excellent piece of counter-graffiti on a bridge, which now reads: Give peas a chance. Brilliant. Made me forget about LazyTown for a few valuable seconds.

Seeing more friends that we hadn’t seen in ages was enjoyable, as was watching the group of six children run amok in an unexplored garden (I include Eleanor, as I was out in the garden helping her to explore). The game inevitably turned to Goodies against Baddies (why is that?!) and I felt a little sad for Harry being cast in the role of sole Baddie, so joined forces with him to ensure some of the Goodies got what was coming to them (tickles and loud screeching apparently). All ended well, and the Earth continues to turn, so we went inside for food. Which all the children ate. Which is one of the many Holy Grails of parenting. So we were all well-pleased (borderline smug) about that. Thanks, Anna! All too soon (via lots of music-making, helicopter-flying, dog-being, role-playing fun) it was time to go home, so we took a few piccies to add to the now ancient ones of a dim and distant previous visit, bundled into the car and returned home with no traffic chaos, no LazyTown and no “I need a wee”s.

Great fun. Great friends. Great memories.

and don’t rescue me…please…

ergh ergh ergh….  in a horrible mood as of now, and im SOOO SORRY i haven’t posted…its next to impossible to post when your nosy husband wants to know whats going on in your life every 5 seconds and i cant write around him, and im at my rents house now and i gotta’ make it fast… and in fact.. jayden wants to type so im going to let him type for one minute.. then kick him… so this scribble scrabble will now be jayden saying hello:

hbngjbbgnggbvv b bg vfdgv crt

ok so that was like 30 seconds.. 

and i got him chocolate to kick him off.  and hes watching “little einsteins”  lol.  Ashwee got to see him yesterday, he confuses ashwee and kelly…. which is sad to say.  haha. 

anyway im ANGRY because of course… arguments with the hubby.  ugh… i dunno …  its not always him … its me too.  sometimes i feel like ill never get use to the fact that he cheated on me//lied//wahtever else.  its a trust issue…  but it is for him too.  maybe its the fact that i wish he would think of making a date night for us or something…  but its always ME thinking of something for US to do other than stay home and play halo 3 all fukkn night.  i didnt say BE ROMANTIC EVERYDAY…. but every once awhile… please… thats who i am..  i would LOVE if he would plan a WHOLE DAY for us…i really would…  and i feel thatll never happen for me.   

so he wants to go out with his friend and i was already on a bad mood mode and i rambled on where are you going and who and when and blah blah and then i argued about us having no money and him blowing 100 + dollars the last time he went out with them.  and then he got mad that i kept asking questions then i stupidly said “I DIDNT MAKE MYSELF THIS WAY”.  which i guess is true…  i became all suspiciious//scared//overreactive after all the shit thats happened to me.  how do i get rid of it.  ewwww im crying.  what a pussy lol.  seriously though…  i dunno… and then to add MORE stress to the situation… the car accident i got into….  i just got an email from the jap police saying im getting fined 200,000 YEN (2000 dollars).  UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh

im going psycho…. i think i wanna die, and i swear the only thing keeping me alive is jayden, i swear it.  if hes not here..  im not alive.  i really dont know how im going to function in the states.  and i cant really finish my rant right now because jayden is literally pulling me away from the computer.  i’ll finish it later.  i love you guys so much.  i really do… im not stable.  shoot me.

- AzN eLy