Saturday, September 24, 2011

::A new way to do potatoes::


I gave these taters a try, because Aidan and I need all the motivation in the world to do potatoes at all. They were brilliant! It took about an hour, the potato opens up as it cooks and each slice comes apart deliciously. I recommend:

Thursday, September 22, 2011

::Corn::


It's the time of year for corn, among other things. But, Caelah and I decided to study it. Check out what we learned over at Nesting Place.


Monday, September 19, 2011

::Upper Canada Village::

Caelah and I are wrapping up our few weeks of pioneer study-- although I think we may drag it on longer. It has been so much fun. To celebrate, we took a long drive South to Upper Canada Village. The whole place is a feast for the eyes.

Since we were last there the Discovery Center was been built: a small museum with interactive displays. As you enter, there is a curtain of dry ice(?) streaming down, upon which is a projection of a battle. It was slightly disconcerting to me, but little kids simply hated it. "Mommy, I don't want to go in there!"



We had the place to ourselves, which meant that we could entice the actors into a more flexible dialogue than would otherwise have been permitted, (as the "actors" are not supposed to slip out character.) I found out from the spinning lady that you can take wool from your own sheep to a shop in Osgoode to be spun. And the school teacher let us ring the bell inside. The carriage driver told a story about a cellphone being left in a casket, then ringing. As the tinsmith laboured to curl his sharp edges under, I tipped him off about metal buffers, and he thought he might go ahead and invent it. The tavern owner and I discussed the unsuitability of my soldier boots, leggings, knee-high skirt and yellow hoody for the dance being held there that night. And the we caught the printsmith at work on a special, and illicit, project: a poster commemorating his favourite motorcycle:

::Who am I?::


Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell’s confinement
Calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
Like a squire from his country-house.
Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
Freely and friendly and clearly,
As though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
Equally, smilingly, proudly,
Like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
Struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
Yearning for colors, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
Thirsting for words of kindness, for neighborliness,
Tossing in expectation of great events,
Powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
Weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
Faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
And before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
Fleeing in disorder from victory already achieved?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am Thine!

Thursday, September 15, 2011

::Thaumatropes::

Caelah and I have been looking into what pioneer kids played with. This is just one of many things they came up with:

Activity: Make a Thaumatrope!
Thaumatropes were an early form of "animation" created by placing two different images that fit together on either side of a disk.
HOW TO:
1. Pick two circular images that would fit together if they were superimposed on top of one another.
2. Cut out a similar-sized circle out of thick cardboard, or wood.
3. Paste one image right-side up. And the other upside-down.
4. Punch two holes on the sides of the circle and feed two rubber bands through.
5. Twist and let go!
You can use any image at all, but traditionally, the pioneers posed a riddle: one side the question. The next side the answer. The riddle above reads:
Q:How is a dog like a Highwayman?
A: Because he is in quest of prey.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

::Apple Day 2011::

This year we didn't make it to our favourite apple picking place. We went with what was easiest. There is an orchard just off Carling in Kanata North. I can't remember the name, and won't worry too much about that because I would rather not recommend it. The prices were high and the staff unhelpful. Also, because it was priced by weight, we were doomed to pay huge amounts. By the time I turned around from taking a few photos, the kids had stuffed three whole bags. . . However, who can resist the delight of fresh fruits?


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

::Backyard Forest Trail::

The kids have started to pound a path through our forest with their bikes. I love that. With a bit of chainsaw work, we should have a winter ski trail, and a way back to the river in no time. We took advantage of the bug-free time of year to explore.

Friday, September 09, 2011

::NUMBERS 20: Moving Him from His Place::

"The people would not know God unless Moses and Aaron accurately represented Him. . . The LORD had in mind a gentle miracle for the people this time-- a hard rock yielding to a mere word. . . God had spoken to Moses softly and graciously , but when Moses spoke to the people, it was loudly and angrily. . . Moses was so angry that he raised his arm and smashed the rock with his staff twice. . . They had water, but they did not have the real gift that God intended for them that day. . . " ~Nancy Ganz "Numbers"

I read the account of Moses above and I empathize sharply with his fall from grace. I feel the searing pain of being stripped of pride. I taste the bitterness of being made "grind my teeth on the gravel" of rebuke. {Lamentations 3:16} I feel covered in the ashy mess of the fallout.

I have been brought low these past weeks by an awareness of sin in me. I always knew it was there, but never really looked it in the face-- grappled with it. I didn't really have to. It isn't the kind of sin that is worn on the outside. But it shapes motives and taints words. Right now it is all so painfully clear. I can see every contour of the ugliness of it, and how it plays out from day to day. And yet, the unlovely shadow-twin of mine was never held to account until now. Or was it?

. . . for he does not afflict from the heart or grieve the children of men. {Lamentations 3: 33}
He delights not in the death of sinners, or the disquiet of saints, but punishes with a kind of reluctance. He comes out of his place to punish, for his place is the mercy-seat.~Matthew Henry
Mercy is my God's first inclination. And, yes, I look back and see that as Truth. I can trace the sites of minor wreckages winding through my early life. Small things at first: A steering-providence, weaving me away from a longed-for thing. A Divine "No" to a selfish desire for "Yes." Little, stinging revelations of what my heart is capable of.

And then, after lessons unlearned, I can see how God moved from his place to address his daughter. His hand directed more painful events, through more public means to open my eyes. Poor choices, with humiliating consequences. Unveiled rejection and shame. I learned how to make good use of my pain, but I didn't learn to sit in the ashes just yet. I preferred to play the part of victim. And so, with eyes only half-open to my sin my God moved from his place to startle them wide.

Now I see. I see what He was after from the start. He always and ever intended for me to be empty. For me to be useable. The architecture of my life has been laid out to remind me. Even the craftsmanship of my body is a message from Him. The people in orbit around me reflect his desires for me.

It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. {Lamentations 3: 27}

Young, brazen oxen are not much use to a farmer who needs his field ploughed. What use have I been, stubbornly ploughing my own uneven lines in soil, sewing so very little seed. When patiently he waits to use me to break and bow. To be available for so much more. I have laboured over you, daughter. I have been moving over you all along. If your mouth is full of dust, and your clothes are streaked with ash, rejoice! You are being made beautiful. Be broken of your cravings for sweet, useless things. Lesser things. My words are sweet. Taste them only. They are a taste of the greater things to come.

Thursday, September 08, 2011

::Pioneering with Beans & Cornmeal::

We are cooking our way through "The Little House Cookbook" in our Pioneering studies. Our first "Pioneer" recipe is a product of bits and pieces I found in the pantry & garden: dried navy beans, fresh basil, fresh chives, the last three carrots. . . I couldn't use the exact recipe Ma used, because I can't find some of those-- um-- rustic ingredients. So I looked through a Cookbook I own. It made for a perfect chilly-weather meal.

“There was nothing to do but sit huddled in coats and shawls, close to the stove.
“I’m glad I put
beans to soak last night,” said Ma. She lifted the lid of the bubbling kettle and quickly popped in a spoonful of soda. The boiling beans roared, foaming up, but did not quite run over.

“There’s a little bit of salt pork to put in them too,” Ma said.
Now and then she spooned up a few beans and blew on them. When their skins split and curled, she drained the soda-water from the kettle and filled it again with hot water. She put in the bit of fat pork.
“There’s nothing like good
hot bean soup on a cold day,” said Pa.” ~Little House on the Prairie

Ma rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands and mixed the cornbread while Mary brought the wood and Laura set the table. . . Ma made the cornmeal and water into two thin loaves, each shaped in a half circle. She laid the loaves with their straight sides together in the bake oven and she pressed her hand flat on top of each loaf. Pa always said he did not ask any other sweetening when Ma put the prints of her hands on the loaves. ~Little House on the Prairie

::Bookmarks & Baskets::


A new organization strategy: Bookmarks & Baskets!
I found beautiful, sturdy wicker baskets on sale the other day, so I scooped up four. At the moment, they have been filled with four categories of books:
1. Caelah's weekly work.
2. Caelah's pleasure-reading.
3. My devotional books and studies.
4. My pleasure-reading. {Which, I suspect, will remain largely untouched until June}

The benefits of having a basket to haul around everything at once are many. Caelah plucks from the front of the basket, then tucks her finished work in the back, only to return to it once all of the material in front has been worked through.

The Bookmarks are the product of my new love-affair with my fancy ::Marvy Uchida Giga Craft Punch::
HOW TO:
1. Punch out brightly coloured card-stock, scrapbook paper or plain cardstock{this can be covered with images from magazines.}
2. Coat it in clear packing tape. Cut off excess tape.
3. Punch a hole in circle using a regular hole-punch.
4. Feed a string or ribbon or hemp through the hole and tie beads to the dangling ends.

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

::First Day of School::

This year, I have been learning a lot about discipline. Discipline involves submitting to what God is speaking into our hearts through His Word and Spirit.

This in mind, Caelah and I have been getting up at 6:30, well before the others, to go and do our devotions by lamplight. My hunger for study is enough for me, but I have worked to make it a warm and comforting habit for her. I have muffins and fresh fruit for us. We have set out cushions and warm blankets to curl up under. And I make myself available to her. I set aside my studies to answer her questions sufficiently and well.

I wanted to treat Caelah to a back-to-school outfit. Even if no one really appreciates our fashion sense but us. . . I finally developed a taste for UGGs. I used to think they made people look like they were wearing marshmallows, but I have succumbed to the style.


I also delved into my Christmas trunk early to give Caelah this: A Lapdesk. It was on sale at Chapters. We do most of our work on the floor around here. So I knew it would prove helpful.


Elijah came from school a surly bear. Hypoglycemic? I will be sure to throw food directly into his path today when he comes home. As for Gabriel, he has not yet begun. However, he has been praying in preparation: "God, I pray that everyone will remember my name, and I pray that I will remember everyone's name as well."

Monday, September 05, 2011

::Hatched::

Hatching a Monarch Butterfly is a magical thing to behold. The rapid transformation from chubby grub to elegant butterfly bears the stamp of God all over it. This country family will surely never tire of witnessing the miracle.
We found our very first Monarch caterpillar in the field next door. The field is positively busting with milkweed in the Fall. An where there is milkweed, there are surely one or two chubby yellow and white creepy crawlers nearby. We placed him in our insect box where he proceeded to consume four or five entire milkweed leaves in less than a day! He slowed down on Day 2 and by evening was hanging upside down by a white goo in the shape of a letter 'J'. By Day 3 we found him in a shiny green chrysalis-- his yellow and white skin shriveled on the floor of the box. It happened so fast!
We almost missed it! The books have said to expect the transformation to take two weeks. But on Day 18, I think I gave our Monarch up for dead. We left the cage bug box out on the porch, but I stopped checking.Then this morning Aidan called up the stairs, "Jo, you better come and see this." Our beautiful butterfly was waiting for us. And it is a SHE! I barely had time to snap one photo before she stretched her wings and took off. We watched her fly into the forest. I hope she makes it to Mexico.
::Monarch Books::