Small Touches

Yesterday our children put the nativity set in the hutch. With four of them working, it was done in just moments. Only one figure was dropped; a shepherd boy who survived his fall without a scratch.

This afternoon, with the little ones in school, I hung the stockings up along the staircase. When Haiku got home from school she helped me make a Countdown to Christmas garland for each of the boys, from tiny chocolate candies knotted up in colored plastic wrap. Little ribbon bows separate the candies. The boys can untie and eat one each day through Christmas, beginning tomorrow. By counting the remaining candies they can answer that one question asked so often in December by the young and young at heart: How many days until Christmas?I pulled a big pile of Christmas picture books out of a closet to read to my sons this month. These books have accumulated over the past 19 years since our oldest child was a tiny tot. I do remember her eyes all aglow over the tiny details, as she saw from her earliest days that there is love sewn into every stitch of our homespun Christmas.

photos by Haiku, November 30, 2009

Traditions

I wrote yesterday about my annual tradition of cleaning the hutch to make way for the nativity set. I've decided to post links to some other posts regarding our family holiday season traditions, just in case some of my newer blogging friends are interested in getting to know how we celebrate the holidays.

Here is a post about studying a new country each year during the holidays; lots of links to earlier posts are included. Here is one about the way we decorate our tree. Here is a description of a typical Christmas eve in the Quiet Country House. Here is a recommendation for some pretty Christmas music. At at the end of all that linking around, if you aren't tired of my holidays in these northern hills, here is a stroll through our little village, all dressed up for the season, from last December.

photo by Aisling in November of 2008

Happy Howling

"There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls..."

~ George Carlin

It is cold and blustery here. Too cold for trick-or-treating, but very typical for our northern Great Lakes region. Despite the sleet and cold air, we will put on extra layers, slightly inhibiting the impact of the boy's costumes, and trick or treat in the village. Hot chocolate and candy sorting are on the agenda for when we return home. Wherever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you happy howling.

photo by Aisling, Sept. 2007

An NYC Moment in Our Little Village

Last year, I wrote about a “Quiet Country” moment that I experienced while chaperoning a high school music department trip to NYC. (You can read that old post here.) This morning, I experienced the opposite. It is our town’s annual summer festival and this morning was the parade. Unfortunately, a huge rain shower was also on the agenda for the morning. I saw the clouds and grabbed an umbrella as we headed out to the parade. Limerick was at an estate sale, Senryu was working at the coffee house in the village, and the three younger kids and I were fortunate to be invited under a tent where a fund raiser was being run to watch the parade.

As the parade began, fierce torrents of rain began to fall. High winds whipped the cold rain along the street and even the “tent” (really just a roof) did not offer protection. Just then, a little man with a cart full of umbrellas began to walk along the street hawking his wares. “Umbrellas! Six Dollars!” he called out, walking close to the crowds that lined the street. His presence took me back 26 years to my first time in New York City. As I was shopping with my classmates, all those years ago, a sudden, unexpected rain began to fall. Umbrella vendors appeared out of nowhere, like steam rising from the manhole covers. The umbrella I used until about 2 years ago was the small black collapsible model that I purchased that day in the rain.

This morning, the rain continued throughout the parade, letting up to just a drizzle as the last of the fire trucks rolled noisily down Main Street. Haiku and I took two shivering little boys into the coffee house, where Senryu and her co-workers were busily catering to demands for hot beverages. We added two hot chocolates and two hot coffees to their workload, and then with our cups of comfort in hand, walked to the other side of the village where our car was parked.

And there you have it: a story about nothing. Wherever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you comfort and contentment.

Friday Favorites - Country Study

One of my favorite family traditions is choosing a country to "adopt" or study each year. My college courses have kept me so busy that the most I've done this year is to briefly consider a few different countries. We began this tradition 15 years ago when Senryu, my oldest, was 4. (I've written about it before on this blog -- the search term "doll" or "country" would probably help you find other posts about it.) It doesn't surprise me at all, all these years later, that Senryu is the one to ask if we can study a particular country. She asked about Tibet and had already checked a book out of the library.

I am enthused about the possibilities of learning more about Tibet, teaching my little sons about a place in the world they have barely heard of, and about sharing some new experiences with my entire family. Imagine the possibilities... prayer flags fluttering on our northern hill, Tibetan dishes simmering in our kitchen, and mandalas made by two curious little boys.

The photo below shows one aspect of our tradition of studying a new country each year. We dress a doll in a costume which reflects the culture of our adopted nation. From left to right, these dolls represent Sweden, Ireland, Mexico, Australia, Peru, Japan (the tiny one in front), Greece, India, Kenya, Russia and Poland. Since this photo was taken, we have also studied Taiwan (the year that Senryu was an exchange student there) and Turkey (the year that our exchange student, Sonnet, spent with us.)

photos by Aisling

The Dreaming Chair

When Limerick and I were expecting our first child, he gave me a wooden rocking chair for Christmas. I sat in that chair before she arrived, dreaming of who she would be and who I would be as a mother. Once she was born, I spent hours in that chair, rocking my girl ,singing every song that I knew, and making up new ones. As she grew, she would climb up on my lap and nestle her hair, with its bright copper lengths of hair, against me, and ask for songs and stories… past times she still pursues with enthusiasm.

Three years passed and a new baby came along. There were more hours in the rocker, more dreams to dream, and sometimes two sweet girls tucked into my arms, one with penny-bright locks and the other with fetching dark curls. The stories grew longer and more complex as the little girls revealed their interests and vibrant personalities. In later years, I sat in that chair alone and read aloud to my daughters, while they built with legos or did somersaults and cartwheels across the living room (furniture carefully arranged to allow room to tumble.) We began homeschooling and the rocker symbolized the focus of our life at that time: family, home, nurture, and lots and lots of stories and songs. We learned to try to maintain that focus in our family, even after our homeschooling years came to a close.

Six years after our second daughter arrived, our first son was born. My daughters had always had some wiggles and wails to get out of their systems in the twilight hours, but this new tiny boy was easy going and relaxed. He loved to be rocked too, always with that gentle, lazy smile on his chubby face. New songs, with rocket ships and funny frogs, were composed to suit his fancy.

Another three years, another baby born. This one was another son, a dark haired imp, full of energy and verve right from day one. Six and a half years later, I wonder how I got him to hold still on my lap as we rocked! Nevertheless, we did sit together in that chair, celebrating the mother and child bond with songs. His songs had to be especially soothing to transition him from the activity of day to the quiet tranquility of night. He woke in the night-time hours more often than any of our other children and I walked with him or rocked with him again, singing softly while moonlight streamed through our windows and the rest of the family slept.

Sometimes, when the children were outside or away from home, I would sit in that chair alone, rocking and remembering. I remember receiving the chair as a gift of love… How little we knew in those moments, and how full of hopes and dreams we were, my husband and I. I remember each child’s baby face with perfect clarity; the expressions of wonder and interest and that drowsy little flutter of lashes as sleep prevailed.

I have sat there dreaming my own dreams too… looking out my windows at weather painting my landscape, seasons passing, years rolling by. It may look like an old wooden rocking chair to someone else now that one runner is sadly damaged and in need of a costly repair, but to me it is a sacred place… irreplaceable and comforting… my dreaming chair.

photo: recycled from an earlier blog post, by Aisling, 2007

Lingering...

I read this on my box of green tea this morning, "The afternoon glow is brightening the bamboo, the fountains are bubbling with delight, the soughing of the pines is heard in our kettle. Let us dream of evanescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things." ~ Kakuzo Okakura.

This post offers glimpses of some of the beautiful foolishness that we have been lingering in over the past few days. Evanescence is everywhere in spring... In the bouyancy of a kite rising to the blue sky, catkins bursting on willow trees, sunlight sparkling on the water. Even Maude forgets her years and frisks about, bouyant and joyful on a ramble to the lake with Tanka and Haiku.

The afternoon glow brightens everything on a sunny April day, until the beautiful moment when the sun's warmth melts across the western sky.

Kite, Sparkling Lake, Maude - by Haiku
PussyWilllows, Crocus, Sunset - by Aisling
All photos, April 7 - 10, 2009


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Friday - A little quote and a little note

"It is very beautiful here, if one only has an open and simple eye, without any beams in it. But if one has that, it is beautiful everywhere." ~ Vincent Van Gogh

I turned the calendar to August this morning, as I'm sure many of you did. Although summer officially ends in late September, our household still revolves around the school year and so summer ends unofficially a few days after Labor Day when school begins. This gives us one more month of summer... one more month to squeeze in all of those things we wanted to do this summer but haven't yet. My children have long lists of places they want to go and things they want to do, and I'd rather spend a summer without plans. I'd rather linger in the garden, go to the beach when perfect beach weather arrives on soft blue skies, and eat meals that aren't thought out, but just picked fresh and eaten. I try to compromise between their wish for adventure and activity, and mine for serenity and languor.

I did, sort of idly, hope to clean the basement thoroughly. I wondered if I would find time to reorganize the laundry room this summer. I toyed with the idea of repainting a couple of rooms in the house. But, instead, I have chauffeured my family to festivals and water parks, taken a sick kitty (better now!) to the vet, said goodbye to my Turkish daughter, and sewn several medieval style dresses for my oldest daughter (not necessarily in that order.) If you read this blog very often, you know that I have somehow managed to spend time in the garden, taken photographs (my current form of creative expression), and found serenity in the quiet spaces between the frequent demands of modern family life.

However you fill your summer hours, I wish you joy!

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photo by Aisling, August 1, 2008 - Along our roadside

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The Memory Box

This morning, I folded a black graduation gown into a small square, and tucked it into a gallon-size freezer bag, with a cap, a tassel and a bright orange sash. I squeezed that bag into an overflowing bin of my oldest child’s memories. A few weeks ago, we opened that Memory Box to pull a few things out for Senryu’s graduation party. Tiny dresses from her earliest days are tucked amid preschool art. Little poster paint hand prints, are pressed onto colored construction paper and covered with clear laminate, holding a moment in time, as I used to hold that hand in mine. Sweet baby “cowgirl” boots and little hair bows that make me catch my breath at how swiftly time passes, are hidden under a black and cream dotted dress that she wore when she was five as the flower girl at my best friend’s wedding. She was so shy then, as she took hesitant steps down an outdoor aisle, moving quietly as if she hoped no-one would notice her. In the intervening years, she has sung and acted on stage, with vibrancy and energy: a small girl with a big powerful voice that takes people by surprise when they first hear it. She has flown half-way across the world, away from me… away from everything that she has known… to experience life in another culture for an entire year.

A pink jumper from the first day of kindergarten… A black cap and gown from high school graduation... It surprises me how full of memories that bin in the basement has become in only 18 years. It amazes me how full of experiences that young woman has become in those same years. As I press down on the lid, which only catches at the edges and does not quite close, it occurs to me that soon this bin will migrate to a corner of my daughter’s own home… perhaps in some far corner of the world, as she has an adventurous spirit. And yet, though the physical souvenirs may not be here, I will have a memory box of my own that overflows; the tears and laughter, heartaches and triumphs, the drama and the songs, of my years as “Senryu’s Mumma” fill my heart to overflowing.

Winter Warmth

We had a family birthday to celebrate this week; Haiku, my co-photographer on this blog, celebrated her 15th birthday. In keeping with our Quiet Country House tradition, we hid her gifts around the house, rather than wrap them. This gift treasure hunt is a long-standing favorite of our children, and is earth-friendly (saves on wrapping paper!) Following a tradition my Mom started when my brothers and I were small, I hung photos of Haiku from the day of her birth and from her birthday each year on the kitchen wall. I saw that sweet baby face with the big eyes peeking out at me from the photos and thought to myself, "How did all of those years pass so quickly?"

There were flowers on the table, a birthday banner on the beam that seperates the living room from the kitchen, and a yummy, dark-chocolate-mocha, vegan birthday cake. Best of all, we were together as a family... sharing our traditions and laughing together. Life is good.

~ Aisling

photos: February 2008 1) hot-house tulips on the dinner table 2) sun outside on the snowy hills

A Walk in the Birch Woods...

Good friends of ours have a campground set up on their "Back 40" complete with playground equipment for the children, a kitchen tent, and scenic trails through the woods. This weekend, Limerick and the boys camped there. Haiku and I had several other commitments, so we came and went. This afternoon, we stopped in long enough to take a walk in the birch woods. Tanka walked with us, but Sijo stayed at camp to try out the hammock.

There wasn't much blooming today in the woods. I didn't find a secret bower overflowing with trillium as I had hoped, but there were the tiniest wild violets I'd ever seen, strawberries blooming in the footpaths, and leaves unfurling in tender shades of green, red and gold. We stepped over mossy rocks and around fallen logs peppered with woodpecker holes. I hope I can carry the quiet of that walk with me through the upcoming week, which looks as if it will be as busy as the last.

photos (except #3) by Aisling 1) Sunlight through the birch leaves; 2) tiny woodland violets 3) Maple leaves unfurling (by Haiku) 4) birchlog with woodpecker holes

It's all a blur...

Last weekend, Haiku and I were cornered in the grocery store by a local woman who is very active in our community. I should have known something was afoot, by the gleam in her eye. "You are in so much trouble," she said, narrowing her eyes... scrutinizing my size, shape and appearance.

I laughed (yes, nervously) and asked what was going on. "What size are you?" she asked peering around me to size up the back side of me as well. I answered. She got very animated and asked if I was attending the mother daughter banquet at the Catholic church.

"Umm, no, I'm not Catholic," I reminded her.

"We're having a fashion show..." she said, pausing for dramatic emphasis, "Vintage Wedding Gowns!" She asked if I would model a couple of wedding dresses, and attend the banquet along with my daughter, Haiku. I said that I would consider her request. Haiku, being very interested in fashion, was adamant that I participate.

So, Monday afternoon found me half-naked with my arms raised above my head, trapped inside a lovely, antique wedding dress, while a woman I don't know all that well pulled the dress off of me, inch by delicate inch. The other dress was just as snug and seemed to take even longer to peel off my not-so-delicately sweating body. Ugh, I thought, this is going to be a disaster when the fashion show is in progress and time is of the essence. My fashion-show ambassador (the woman from the grocery store) assured me that all would be well the night of the show. "See you on Thursday!" she told me with a smile.

So, Thursday, I made a little run to the store for some girly things (new undergarments and hose, since apparently everyone backstage at the show would see them) and a pair of low-heeled dressy white "skimmers." These things, plus a little makeup (which I hardly wear and don't buy often) boosted my confidence slightly. The hair cut I had already had planned to have (prior to agreeing to do something so totally outside of my comfort zone) tweaked my confidence a bit further.

In the evening, Haiku and I walked through the gardens of the Catholic Church and entered the fellowship hall. The meal was lovely (even a vegetarian could fare well on the pot-luck buffet of each lady's best salad or side dish) and soon it was time for the show to begin. My ambassador is more than a fashion-show recruiter, she is a miracle worker with needle and thread, straight pin and french-wire ribbon. Dresses that gapped on a model's back were tied together romantically with shimmery white ribbon. Headpieces were tacked on with straight pins and a spirit of improvisation which our miracle-worker had learned through her involvement with local drama productions. She had let out a seam in each of the dresses I was wearing, which was hidden with a strip of ivory muslin and a few inconspicuous pins.

These tiny blurry photos are all I have to show you so far, but perhaps the miracle worker will have photos to email to me. The lighting wasn't the best for photography and Haiku didn't have the best seat in the house for snapping photos. The event turned out to be really fun, and all of the other "brides" were stunning... whether their dresses really fit or just looked as if they did.

photos by Haiku, May 3, 2007

After the rain...

This morning I took a walk in the garden, under cloudy skies. Nothing was blooming, but I saw a pansy with a soft roll of purple, almost ready to open. I saw the swollen golden buds of crocus and a dark purple iris still encased in it's celadon sheath. As I walked, fat drops of rain fell across the garden slates.

A steady rain fell softly but insistently for quite some time, urging the on-again/off-again creek to flow. After dinner, I took a pair of scissors and headed to the garden with the intent to cut away some of the dry brown evidence of winter. In the garden, I found the first blooms of spring: two crocus, a pansy and a tiny iris. Each had unfurled in the warmth after the rain.

The boys have been playing amid the cattails all afternoon, while down by the lake the seagulls are screaming in wild joy over the arrival of spring. They are not musical at all, but they are loud and exuberant and they have a really good point: "Hurrah! Hurrah! It's Spring!"

photo 1 by Aisling, photos 2 and 3 by Haiku, March 2007

Ginger Chickpea Stew...

My favorite dinner this week was inspired by a recipe in one of my "heart smart" cookbooks. The original had chickpeas and tomatoes, broth and spices. I thought there wasn't enough going on for a filling meal, so I revamped the recipe based on my tastes and what I had on hand at the moment. The result was delicious, filling and very nutritious:

Ginger Chickpea Stew

Put all of this in a big pot:

1 quart vegetable broth
2 cups cooked chickpeas (or 1 sixteen ounce can)
1 small red onion chopped
4 cloves garlic minced or chopped
1 16 oz can diced tomatoes
1 potato grated
1 potato cut in small cubes
1 sweet potato cut in small cubes
1 cup chopped spinach

Season with:

1 Tablespoon grated fresh ginger root
1 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon coriander
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Put the lid on and cook over medium heat until potato and sweet potato cubes are falling apart and shredded potato has thickened the broth; 30 to 40 minutes. Adjust seasonings to taste.

Note: You could sauté the onion and garlic in extra virgin olive oil before adding the broth and other ingredients. It’s so good without that though, that I prefer to skip the oil and keep things lower in fat. Also, this is a slightly sweet stew. For a change of pace Southwestern or Indian Spices would also be delicious. I'm going to try one of those options the next time I make this stew.

My omnivore husband loved this in his thermos for lunch the next day. He told a co-worker that he liked it even better than the beef stew I sent with him the day before.

photo by Haiku, February 2007

The Fragrant Country House...

Above the laundry room sink is a little wooden cabinet that I found at a garage sale one summer afternoon several years ago. The cabinet is filled with amber and indigo-blue glass bottles, filled with essential oils for aroma-therapy and homemade cleaning remedies. As you can see from the photo, I have commercial cleaning products on hand (the laundry soap for example) but also the ingredients for more natural cleaning solutions (such as the big jug of white vinegar.) On the best days, my clean house smells like lavender and jasmine, cinnamon and sweet orange. If anyone in the house has been ill, we might catch a whiff of eucalyptus in the bathroom and tea tree around the doorknobs and light switches.

I have several books about using essential oils in the home. Mainly, I "wing it" using what I have on hand in the essential oil cabinet. But, I thought I'd share an air freshener recipe from one of my favorite little home keeping manuals, The Naturally Clean Home: 101 Safe and Easy Herbal Formulas for Nontoxic Cleansers by Karyn Siegel-Maier, published by Storey Books.

"To make your own herbal spray air freshener, first wash the container thoroughly. Then fill it with water (use distilled if it is also going to come in contact with human skin or foods; do not use the spray ion skin within 12 hours of exposure to sun) and add 5 to 7 drops of an essential oil or combination of oils per 8 ounces of water. Here are some suggested blends:

Country Spice - cinnamon, ginger, vanilla, bay

Romance - vanilla, sandalwood, ylang ylang, jasmine, neroli and rose

Far East - patchouli, cedar, sandalwood,lime and coriander

Calming - bergamot, geranium, clary sage, chamomile, and yarrow

There are other combinations listed in the book, which you can check out here: http://www.storey.com/books/book.php/y/7/p/0/isbn/1-58017-194-X Check out some of Storey's other offerings while you're there, if you have time. They call themselves "book publishers of country wisdom, do-it-yourself, and well-being. "

My little blue pump bottle of air freshener is currently scented with jasmine, patchouli and ylang ylang. It smells clean and fresh... and a little bit dreamy.

photo of the laundry room on a good day, by Aisling 2006

Banana Oat Scones...

My original recipe for scones came from a book called The Joy of Snacks. I don't remember the book and may have to track it down sometime to refresh my memory. I think it was borrowed from the library. I have modified the recipe so much over time, that it is quite different than the original (which contains egg and raisins, and does not use bananas.)

Ingredients:

(scant) 2 cups all purpose flour

1/4 cup sugar

1 tablespoon baking powder

1 teaspoon cream of tartar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/4 cups old fashioned rolled oats

1/2 cup non-hydrogenated (no trans-fats) margarine, melted
1/3 cup soy milk (plain or vanilla)

1 ripe mashed banana

Directions:

Combine dry ingredients; set aside. Blend mashed banana, melted margarine, and soy milk until fairly smooth. Add in dry ingredients and mix just until moistened. Shape dough to form ball; pat out on lightly flours surface to form 8 inch circle. Cut into 12 wedges (scones); bake on oiled baking sheet at 425 degrees for 8 to 10 minutes or until light golden brown. Serve warm.

Note: I go "skimpy" on the flour at the start and reserve some to add at the end if needed. Not all banana's are created equal! I will (carefully) add more if the dough is too sticky to shape and cut.

photo by Aisling, February 19, 2007

Baby Bella & White Bean Stew...

Four days into a winter storm, the school is actually closed for a "snow day." This rarely happens here. Mostly, we just take winter weather in stride; we're used to it. However continuous snowing and blowing ultimately will slow those of us who live on the back roads down a bit more than usual. Sub-zero temps (taking wind chill into consideration) just adds to the equation.

For lunch, I just ate a big bowl of yesterday's Baby Bella & White Bean Stew. This is a recipe that I came up with after hunting for one online, but not finding what I was looking for. I thought I would share, in case anyone else looks for excuses to buy Baby Bella (little portebello's, a.k.a. crimini) mushrooms. This warm, filling stew is a really good excuse!

Baby Bella and White Bean Stew

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons Olive Oil

3/4 cups chopped onions (a combination of red and green, or just whatever you have on hand)

6 cloves garlic, (4 chopped roughly and 2 crushed)

2 cups sliced Baby Bella mushrooms

2 (16 oz) cans veggie broth

2 (16 oz) cans white beans

1 cup frozen chopped spinach

1/2 cup plain or whole wheat couscous

1/4 cup red white or balsamic vinegar

1 teaspoon thyme

1 teaspoon oregano

1/4 to 1/2 crushed red pepper

Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Directions:

Heat olive oil. Saute onions, garlic, mushrooms and spices until mushrooms are golden. Deglaze the pan by stirring in wine or vinegar. Add broth, white beans, and spinach. Cook on medium high until the broth comes to a soft boil. Add in couscous and turn off heat. Cover and let stand 5 minutes before serving.

This will really thicken up, so add more veggie broth if you want it more soupy. If you like things spicy, this is good garnished with crushed red pepper and/or a little shot of hot sauce.

This will make 4 to 6 generous servings.

photo by Aisling, February 5, 2007

Serendipity...

This lovely word, Serendipity, ought to be the name for the used book store I frequent (in the basement of a local library.) It never fails that I find, amid a fairly limited selection, a book on a subject I have recently begun researching, or a novel someone recently suggested that I read, or a book by a favorite author that I could not afford new.

Thursday I invited serendipity into my life by running into the library on my way to collect Haiku from her gymnastics lesson. I was happy to find a novel with an elegant cover and an equally elegant name, The Samurai's Garden by Gail Tsukiyama. Anything Asian resonates with me these days, due to Senryu's exchange in Taiwan. I also found an old collection of stories and poetry by a favorite fantasy author, Ursula K. LeGuin, author of Cat Wings and many wonderful tales.

A really lovely find was two books (one a hardback) by lifestyle author Alexandra Stoddard. I have several of her books, but she has written many that I do not yet own. I particularly love the quotes she adds to the margins of her writing.

Yesterday while instant messaging, Senryu made a comment about a friends "Meg-Like I.Q." I instantly recognized that she was referring to Meg from M. L'Engel's A Wrinkle in Time. The conversation flowed on, and then she paused to say, "I love that you get my references." This quote in one of the A. Stoddard book's comments on that sort of happening:

"I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing." ~ Katherine Mansfield

If we are fortunate, the comfort of friendship - or as I consider it, harmony - also exists within a close, loving family. It is a sweet thing to explain nothing and yet be understood, isn't it?

photo by Aisling, February 2007

Gathering...

A few years ago, we gathered frequently with friends for potluck dinners, campfire circles, and front porch picnics. We are still on friendly terms with all of those people, but all of our lives seem to have moved into a different gear. Some of the kids are older, going more and more in their own directions. The adults are older too, of course, and perhaps going out less, staying in more. I have a goal this spring, as soon as snow and mud are no longer a concern on our little private lane, to have friends over more often for a big pot of soup and a few loaves of home-baked bread.

I want our Quiet Country House to be like this farmhouse in France, which Alice Steinbach writes about in Educating Alice, in the chapter called "The Secret Gardens." She says:

"Eventually, pots of chocolate mousse flavored with bits of orange rind appeared, accompanied by a big bowl of ripe juicy strawberries coated with sugar. I ate everything placed before me, my appetite whetted not only by the superb food but by the company as well. This was a house of many appetites: for books and music and art and flowers and conversation and, of course, food. It was a house that had been nurtured by hardy, elegant people whose lives, like the olive trees surrounding them, had put down deep roots here. And it was a house from which I would take away many good memories."

Come to think of it, I'll bet I have a few friends who would brave even this snowy road for some Pumpkin Bread fresh from the oven! Maybe I wont wait until spring after all. I want this to be a house for books, music, art, flowers, conversation, food, and of course, friends and family... all gathered together.

photo by Aisling, January 2007

One snowy day in January...

Saturday morning the entire family headed deeper into the hills and woods of winter, to join Sijo's Boy Scout Den for a morning at a Sled Dog Rescue Kennel. This kennel has a mission to let each rescued dog continue to enjoy the sport for which he/she was trained, but to never push a dog beyond his/her limits. Quite a few young boys, and Haiku (the token girl in the bunch) had their first experience driving a team of sled dogs up a little well-groomed trail. Tanka took his ride in the basket of the sled, and delighted the driver (the owner of the kennel) by laughing joyously for the duration of the ride.

We were also lucky enough to meet Noweesh (spelling?) a wild mustang rescued at auction from an unmentionable fate. This shy beauty shares his outdoor living space with a few ewes, a musky ram, and an adorable miniature goat.

Mother Nature provided a deep, drifty, picturesque setting for our Sled Dogging Adventure, which was lovely but made it a difficult drive home. We had planned to go skating on the neighbor's pond in the afternoon, but there didn't seem to be any activity going on there as we drove past. Once we were settled in our warm house, we weren't inclined toward outdoor activity. The boy's sleds lay all day at the bottom of the hill upon which the house sits, getting buried by deeper and deeper snow. In the evening, I feel asleep listening to the wind throw waves of snow against the windows.