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Wednesday, August 4, 2010

i'm that mom (blueberry inspiration)

today i got the truly inspired idea of offering my kids a dollar for each pint of blueberries they picked. our bushes out front are prolific and one of them is peaking right now. the other three have already peaked but still had a few pints left on them as well. i wanted to get to them today before the robins ate {too many} more (i love sharing the blueberries with the birds but they do tend to take bites out of several at once, all over the bushes. after i was done picking, i made sure i left some for them as well. they do love them so...) i normally don't pay my kids to do things around the house because i want them to do things in the spirit of family and-all-that. today, however, i decided to make an exception to this rule. the picking would be relatively easy, particularly on the busiest bush, and the seasonality of the work would ensure it didn't keep coming up over and over again. (i also offered to pay them to pick up spoiled apples in the back yard but there were no takers for that one. in fact eva asked that the apples remain on the ground because they are a part of a game she plays while swinging.)

initially, both eva and samuel were enthusiastic about picking the blueberries. they were excited about the money. they each planned out how many pints they would pick and settled on one. maybe two. i was happy, patting myself on the back for this moment of inspiration, thinking how every now and then a little money here and there might be alright after all. ahem.

then it all shifted. eva started asking me if she could just have the dollar rather than picking the blueberries. samuel started sighing loudly when he looked out the window at the berries. both averted their gaze when i announced i would be heading out front to pick.

normally, when i go out front to pick blueberries, the kids join me. not to pick, mind you, although that can happen too, depending on the day. eva rides her scooter around the drive way, making obstacle courses, singing songs with the ipod, stopping long enough to scoop up handfuls of berries to take with her. samuel has been enjoying a game with his nerf guns, sitting perched on the hood of the car, legs dangling through the sun roof, shouting orders at transformers or iron man and the like. today, there was none of this. no scooters. no games. no camaraderie out front. there was, however, eva coming out a third time with a sad look on her face asking again if she could {please} just have the dollar rather than actually picking the berries.

and that's when i went inside, got out my purse, pulled out two- one dollar bills and handed one to each child. i told them i was retracting my offer to pay them to pick blueberries. i would love to have their company out front. if they wanted to join in the picking, so much the better. but i would not be paying for this service. it had turned out to be a very bad idea.

both kids looked down at their one dollar bill and then back at me. they thanked me for the dollar and went back to what they had been doing before my course correction had interrupted them. then i put on my headphones and headed back out to the blueberry bushes where i enjoyed the berries, the afternoon sunshine and the birds. i smiled contentedly when i saw eva come out to walk around the roses, grabbing a handful of blueberries as she passed the car.

i was thankful today that i could be that mom who saw when i had made a mistake. eva's handful of blueberries, the smile on her face, my contented picking... all worth so much more than quicker picking and finished tasks. a lesson well learned and much appreciated on this path of letting go and moving on.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

i'm that mom (and another)

You can easily see where my mind is at these days, what with the blueberries and peaches and picking and summer time love. Eva eating fruit, running around behind me as I pick and process and taste and bake. Moving around the blueberry bushes outside one day, filling up one pint and then another, I took a break to go inside for water and a quick snack. On my way back to the bushes, I reached out to grab another berry basket for picking, distracted by my ipod, searching for a different song, sure that the berry baskets were on the hood of the car, right where I had left them. And yet, no. No baskets. I looked up. The hood of the car was empty. I looked over to where I had left the already filled baskets. No empty ones there either. Hmmm.

I walked toward the blueberry bushes, looking around and checking for where I might have left the berry baskets {on my way inside}. That's when I saw them lying on the ground in the middle of the driveway. I hadn't left them there. It was slightly curious but I dismissed it as I bent down to pick them up so that I could get back to my picking.

I was suddenly struck by the pattern on the ground. There was a large rock. A pine cone. The berry baskets. An image of Eva on her scooter, zipping around the driveway, around the rock, the berry baskets, the pine cone... Ah yes. An obstacle course. Of course. My berry baskets had been incorporated into Eva's obstacle course. I smiled. And then I bent down to pick them up anyway.

And I stopped myself. Surely I could find other berry baskets. Other containers, even, to put the blueberries in. There was really no reason to disrupt the obstacle course (and with it the pleasant equilibrium we had all reached while spending time together in the front yard). Sure enough, I checked in the car and found half a dozen more berry baskets. (I'm sure there were more inside, in addition to several dozen different styles of bowls and buckets in assorted shapes and sizes. At least.) No shortage of those around here. (No shortage of anything, really, when I thought about like that.) I grabbed the new stack of empty baskets, smiled again at the obstacle course, and headed back over to continue picking blueberries, happy to be that mom who could be creative enough to allow for many different uses for berry baskets. At least.

Monday, August 2, 2010

i'm that mom

In keeping with a meme that has been floating around facebook for the last couple of weeks, I'm that Mom is an homage to the choices we make as parents (in this case, as mothers) in the spirit of allowing our children to be who they are and fostering that original nature within. It's in the spirit of learning. In living life fully. In letting go of- throwing out, even- the stories and rules that no longer work for us. That we no longer wish to have govern us. It's in that spirit that I approach these stories- stories of me and my children, my responses to them, how things flow within our lives {at least some of the time}. It is about my intention. Where I am headed. What I am thinking about {often}. I'm that mom- who I am, who I choose to be in each day-to-day-moment. And my children. The ones who inspire me to be so. Do so. In so many ways.

So here's how it goes- today, Eva brought me a peach (from the boxes of peaches ripening on the patio outside) and she said to me, "Momma, will you cut up this orange for me?" and I said, "Of course (or some such-like in the affirmative...) and I nodded {probably} and took the peach from her...

I'm that mom who didn't correct her. Didn't say something like- "You mean the peach?" or "What orange? It looks like a peach to me." or even just "Peach." because I know that Eva knows she is holding a peach, not an orange. That we picked these peaches together. That she has eaten them, dripping peach juice down her chin, while I stood by smiling and noticing my fear of peach juice dripping on her white (who on earth wears white to a peach orchard...) shirt and comforting myself with thoughts like- I will be able to get out any stain that lands on that shirt and also, if not, well surely there are other white blouses. And I am that mom who didn't harp on her {this time} about peach stains and enjoyed her peachy enthusiasm. I was there.

And- I am that mom who knows that even if- outlandish as it may seem to me now- she doesn't know it is a peach that she is holding, she will. Someday. Most people do. And if she doesn't? Well, that isn't the end of the world either. (The more likely scenario is, after all, that she will find out the name of the peach if only to make sure she can have so many more of them in her life.)

Still, I'm pretty sure she knew it was a peach all along. And that peaches and oranges and tangerines and nectarines are all so deliciously interwoven in her life with their tasty bites of goodness that Eva's first priority was having that bit of goodness fixed up for her to eat, after all {not talk about}. And with that in mind, I was happy to oblige and honor her priorities therein.

Friday, July 30, 2010

peaches

The date on this post is a little off as I started to write about peaches last week. I finished the post on the Monday morning after the Friday it is posted as~

We picked out first peaches Thursday. We set off to pick at one farm and were told they hadn't started picking yet. Then- synchronistically- we ended up at another farm with the same variety of peaches (Red Haven) as well as some phenomenal red raspberries. These red raspberries had the best flavor of any of the raspberries I have picked this season. It was definitely a case for unfortunately/fortunately in action. (Unfortunately, the farm we had planned to pick peaches at was closed for picking. Yikes! What to do? Fortunately, we ended up at another farm with the same peaches for picking AND some of the best raspberries I have ever eaten!)

I am planning to can some of the peaches we picked. Perhaps we'll pick some more to can once others start ripening if I feel up to it. Sometimes the enthusiasm runs a little dry and I have to decide if I really want to do something or if I want to want to do something. In which case, as in this case, it's better to find something else to do with the fruit. I *am* going to buy a food dehydrator and am excited by the prospects of drying so many pints of blueberries, at least. And maybe some peaches? We'll see how exciting the dehydrator turns out to be before making any predictions. I am planning to can pears this year as I noticed we did indeed miss them last winter.



Close up of peach clafoutis I made last night. Definitely a keeper. I highly recommend clafoutis if you haven't already tried it. It's like a custardy pancake with fruit that you bake in the oven. And so versatile. I was thinking today of apple season and putting cooked apples inside. We'll see.



We did some chocolate covered raspberries for a friend's birthday on Saturday and yesterday Eva did a whole bunch more in both milk chocolate and dark chocolate. She wants to do more today, but of course. I guess we will go buy some more milk chocolate to fuel the chocolate fire. What I love about this is that there is more than one way to chocolate a raspberry. I love watching Eva play around with all the different ways she can think of. And then eating them. That's fun too.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Took off for the upick today without anything in particular on my mind to pick, except maybe a few pints of black caps (or black raspberries, depending on where you grew up). We ended up picking more raspberries (and two pints of black caps. Eva also picked two pints of currants, unbeknownst to me. I am pretty sure we will be making more currant-raspberry granita. The first batch was eaten up lickety split, even if it was a little sweet!) which I intend to cover with chocolate at some point. At least some of them. I haven't been paying attention to how quickly (or slowly) the month of July has been moving. Trying to focus on the present {and all that} lest I be consumed with panic over the passage of time when really it turns out fine in the end. The woman at the upick started talking about their summer berries coming to an end and I knew that was why I had a peach picking session planned tomorrow with Ellen. It never fails, just this time of year, the berries I have been picking come to an end and there is a berry lull of sorts. I have plenty of blueberries, thanks to the two trips to pick and the abundance in my own front yard. So it's to peach picking and canning until the blackberries and fall raspberries ripen in August. And then all sorts of goodness with pears and apples and tomatoes. It's times like these summer tastes so sweet.

Tonight I made my first clafoutis- inspired by the book I just read, Five Quarters of the Orange. I'm waiting for it to finish cooking in the oven. It looks tasty and was incredibly easy to concoct with loads of blueberries, boysenberries and, of course, red raspberries. I was going to serve it with turkey bacon and some chard with zucchini and garlic, but all of that has already been consumed. I'm sure it will stand up well on its own with a little Harry Potter this evening. We've finished book two and are well on our way with book three!




And here it is- blueberry-boysenberry-raspberry clafoutis. I used whole spelt flour and almond milk rather than cows milk, cream and white flour.

dragonfly encounter

click click. silence. buzz. more clicking. i look up. someone- some bug or some such or other- is caught in the patio, buzzing and clicking at the plastic roof over my head. i squint. a dragonfly. of course i will help him.

over the years i have given up on helping certain creatures who find themselves trapped in the patio. as much as it drives me crazy to think of being trapped like that myself, some of the creatures are less likely to be helped than others. birds can be helped. definitely. although sometimes, depending on the species (take juncos, for instance), it can take some time. the time i helped free a hummingbird who had his beak {actually} caught in the screen was memorable. flies are a no. they don't cooperate. rarely. i help some queen ants- something about them being caught in there, unable to fulfill their destiny, gets me. then it wears thin when there are so many. some bees, honey bees or some of the native bees, can be helped some of the time. wasps. yellow jackets. of course. bumble bees, though, no. they are far too angry and beside themselves with their predicament and i can rarely get them in a container safely. they fight it until they wear themselves out. then i can come in and lend a hand.

dragon flies often find their own way out. if they don't, i can usually help them, one way or another. take this one, for example. he avoided the container i tried to use to contain him and it wasn't until i went and found the net that he got serious about getting free. he actually- and this is very common with dragonflies- climbed onto the edge of the net and let me walk him {on the net} outside. once outside, he stayed put while i set the net down, propping it up against the sandbox, ran inside, set up the camera, came back outside and {voila!} took a picture of him on the net.



but just one picture. once i started fiddling around with lighting and angle, he was gone. out of there. flying off to wherever it was he had been going before his path crossed with mine. caught in the screened in porch. one summer day. i wonder if he'd been there before. did it seem as familiar to him as it did to me? drat. this plastic ceiling blocking my way once again. when will i remember not to fly this way, this way that always seems to find me caught? trapped. on my way to where i need to be. unless this is where i need to be. or simply where i am.

and as always, for me, it is a perfect encounter, giving me food for my thoughts, for this writing, for my day. i wish i had been able to catch the glint of his wings in the sunshine- although the way it looks, you can almost {almost} see how he is holding on tight, keeping an eye on me, waiting for just the right time to fly off.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

wahclella falls

We took off for the woods yesterday after I decided that was the only cure for my restlessness. I took a lot of photos- mostly of water and children. Children in water. Or near it. And especially children near a majestic waterfall. In many poses. From far away. We had a glorious good time and I left feeling much more connected than when I started, both to myself and my kids. Samuel even gave me the- "Hey that turned out better than I thought it would!" talk at the end. Surely there isn't a better way to end a hike than with a few dozen pictures of my kids smiling at a waterfall, at me and even {once or twice} at each other.



Just getting started.





Eva found these little rock-shells on some rocks in part of the river. They reminded us of the little rock-shelled-river-creatures we saw in the Washougal River last summer. These were definitely creature-made as well. And, as always, I am inspired by flowers growing out a rock in the middle of a river. Life-living-wherever-it-can and some such.



Eva jumping from rock to rock and climbing up from the water to where Samuel and Jack and I were already eating.



Where we ate lunch and- finally we see the big Wahclella Waterfall. It was tricky getting Samuel to climb that last big hill in the hot sun before we reached it, but it was so worth it once we saw the falls and were able to spend some time there.



Wahclella Falls.





More falls majesty and- heading back across the bridge to begin the hike back.



One last bit of waterfall magic near the end of the hike.