Monthly Archives: June 2014
It’s official. We will be taking a family road trip to Newfoundland (and, may I just say, they killed it with their amazing tourism videos) in the beginning of September. It’s been 9 years. Silas is thrilled that we will be spending his birthday in a yurt by the ocean. I am thrilled that the kid’s “first day of (home)school” will be taken at the rather famous Hopewell Rocks at low tide. It feels like a great rebellion. Our time in Newfoundland will be spent with family, some of whom we haven’t seen in years, and taking day trips to places with names like Leading Tickles and Twillingate. On the way back we will make a quick visit to PEI. Because Anne. When we return, we will be starting our more structured homeschool days. Silas would officially be starting Junior Kindergarten this year.
Poppy would be going into Senior Kindergarten. I chose to go with the Moving Beyond The Page Curriculum this year. It seems like a good fit. Last year we kind of decided to wing it with workbooks from Chapters and informal learning. It was fine. The kids learn. Poppy can read the first two books of the Bob Book Series without help and the third and fourth books with a little help. Reading and writing are what intimidate/worry me most about homeschooling. I have no memory of learning how to read and write. But everything hinges on getting that right. So, I am over the moon that we are seeing progress and that we (us! ) are facilitating that growth with pure gut instinct and a few simple tools. The reality is, they’re always learning. While we read, and bake, and visit, and watch tv, and explore. The world is full of stuff to learn. And they are endlessly curious and observant. It’s a beautiful thing. To be honest, the curriculum is more for my schooled mind. And I am ok with that. We will still have lots of informal learning, but balanced out with structured activities as well. I think it will be good. We’ve also enrolled Poppy in Sparks come Autumn. Which means we will have access to those thin mint cookies dreams are made of. And she will wear a sash and earn badges and foster friendships. It’s all good. And just because it’s Friday, I may as well make it a Fawned Friday… 08) When I was 17 I had short hair so I missed out on this trend. It might just be on today’s agenda. 09) I just love this little gallery wall. 10) This bathroom is perfection. 01) Shake, woman, shake. Love that. 012) I just happen to have $12 left on a Chapter’s gift card… 13) This is pretty damn inspiring. Happy Weekending Deer Hearts! e.
34 trips around the sun.
More sun warmed berries.
Homemade ice cream cake.
A couple of my favourite meals.
A handful of wildflowers picked by my loves.
A pretty little pottered mug.
A walk through the pasture and along fence rows.
Feeling a little like Anne Shirley dreaming about the possibilities.
Kid playing in the old claw foot tub.
It was another nice one.
go gently + be wonderful
We shall see. On Saturday we celebrated 7 years of marriage by making the drive to Cobourg for their BuskerFest. It was a bit of a bust, but the Beavertails and beautiful sandy beach more than made up for it. We also got 10 minutes to wander quietly and aimlessly around Chapters while Gramma and Papa wrangled the kids. It was glorious. It has become a bit of a Father’s Day tradition to go to the Farm for the day.
We tasted the first sun warmed berries of the year. The kids “helped” Nana transplant the peppers and tomatoes. (We decided to skip putting our garden again this year…for a few reasons.) The two dads worked at cleaning seed with a 100 year old fanning machine. Like I said, it was a good one. What were your weekend highlights? go gently + be wonderful e.
awake at 2am to hear the hungry screech of the Great Horned Owl in the tree outside our bedroom window
sitting under the apple tree
my poppy girl picking me a lilac and a stalk of rhubarb
our whole bedroom scented with yesterday’s lilacs
spontaneous hugs from my wee boy
a good strong breeze keeping the bugs at bay
so many things
this is going to be a good project
a husband who let me sleep an extra 45 minutes after another restless night with Clemmie
a little girl who seems to be feeling a touch better
taking steps to break the facebook habit
feeling empowered by that decision
maps of the world, moon, and solar system
meal planning with a sleeping babe on my back and an afternoon coffee
watching this sweet girl bat her ball and the dog dishes around the kitchen like a kitten
old time jazz streaming
poppy’s adoration and silas’ intensity
making caramel popcorn with the kids at 9am
being at a stage where cooking with kids is enjoyable and full of learning and laughing
two loaves of banana chocolate chip bread
finding paneer at our grocery store
orange is the new black
a pantry and fridge full of good ingredients
feeling light without facebook
spontaneous trip to haliburton
watching the kids play, fully clothed, in the lake
ice cream treats
silas fishing with his homemade fishing rod in the fountain
it feels an awful lot like summer
a challenging day, but…
more purging and tidying
laundry on the line
all three babes giggling under the blanket parachute
a tidy upstairs
the kids showing interest and progress in reading and writing
a working lawn mower
poppies, peonies, and irises getting ready to show their pretty faces
hearing the crow swearing at a most brazen little fox lingering at our chicken coop this morning
(i may make a terrible farmer, but i do love foxes)
sitting on quilts under the trees
reading three whole pages of my book
fire flies exist
kitchen sink baths after a messy, spinachy lunch
the waterlogue app
wild strawberries and buttercups
windows and doors wide open and a heavenly breeze
silas ate spinach knowingly
saving the dragonflies from the inside windows with the kids
poppy’s drawings and silas’ stories
homemade lo meinLetting go of Facebook feels right for me. I miss aspects of it. Mostly being able to spurt out tiny sound bites when the mood strikes. And the commiseration of other mothers. And the good people. But the thing with facebook is that you can’t separate the wheat from the chaff. I don’t miss the anxiety that bubbles up when people post about important, but overwhelming topics. Radon Secondary drowning Car seat deaths Climate change The danger of television and smart phones You know, imminent doom and the like. Like I said, the point of the unplugging wasn’t to leave the internet completely, but to use it more wisely. #100happydays has been helping with that too. It forces me to break the habit of ungratefulness. Our days are still filled with frustrations and annoyances, but they are also never lacking in something to be happy about. I feel like spending some time in this space again. I feel creativity just beginning to bubble up again. I feel good and light and empowered by having and doing and refreshing a little less. I feel like I am finding my way back to center. And that feels good. Come follow me on Instagram, friends. go gently + be wonderful e.
A sweet breeze
A freshly mowed lawn
Watching two pretty hipster girls help a turtle cross the road in front of our house
Homemade pizzaThere are so many things. Too many things. All pulling at us Demanding our time Our admiration Weighing us down Distracting us from our own happiness. That is clear to me now. I’d like to retreat. To take a breath and remember what it felt like to live quietly. To remember what it was like to live each moment without a screen or shares or likes. To nail down the insatiable need to be heard, understood, seen, thought of, or defined. To parent our children with guts and heart and without the articles, studies, and blogs telling us we’re doing it wrong. To wander out the door without considering the story or photos ops. To spend hours reading a good book and cheering for our own wins. To cook good food and share it with people rather than Instagram. To see what may come out of the silences we allow. And yet I am terrified too. But OH! All the hours spent refreshing and checking in minutes and moments we can’t get back. All the jewelry I will never wear gathering dust on the dresser All the skinny clothes taunting me from the dark corners of the closet. All the books I will never read begging to be set free All the baby clothes with scents and stains and memories embedded in their fibers Sit, musty, in the basement when they could be keeping another babe clothed and warm. All the broken, chipped, mangled, stained pieces I feel so compelled to hold onto. As though my life depends upon it. With a sigh, I let it all go. I release it into the wild world and hope that it warms a body, decorates a nest, or brings a simple joy to someone else. I welcome the space it leaves behind. I am a collector and a story teller with a gypsy heart. It’s true. But I am trying to reconcile the two in hopes of finding peace art and the incredible lightness of being. go gently + be wonderful e.