Search for Sasquatch

You just never know what is going to inspire a group of kids, but if you let them run with it, the results are often very entertaining.

About a month ago, we were visiting a friend who showed us some clips from some rather, well... "interesting" TV shows. They seemed to be sort of back woods reality TV, featuring real life characters who search for bigfoot, wrestle giant snakes in the bayou, and things like that. I was amazed that this would be TV worthy, but I guess with a billion channels, you have to stretch things like the meaning of worthy.

Well, the kids all found the whole thing hilarious. Now, we all live in "the country" and are familiar with mountain folks, but we couldn't tell if the people on these shows really acted that way in everyday life, or if they were just hamming it up to be on TV. Either way, the kids found it completely entertaining and were inspired to create a spoof series of films along the lines of what they saw.

We had a sleepover, and after staying up until the wee hours eating about 12,000 pounds of leftover Halloween candy, they came up with a loose script. In the morning, they set out with camera in hand. I didn't see them for hours, but did hear some occasional "Bigfoot howls."

The result was the following three minutes of humor that I hope you'll take the short time to watch (and comment):

Of course I found this all rather amusing, but I think it's also worth noting that the kids learned quite a bit from the process. Scriptwriting, acting, character development, plot (well, sort of) and all the filming, editing etc that went into it. There was a lot of teamwork happening, and they managed it all without any adult intervention. Some might say they were playing all day (which they were) but I contend that they were educating themselves as well, and that it was a worthwhile way to spend a morning with friends.

None of the kids involved had used the movie making computer program before either, but they figured it all out on their own, and had a great time doing it. They also learned that wind sounds louder on video than in real life, and it makes your dialogue hard to understand, but alas, you can't control nature. Now they're on the hunt for a way to drown that background noise out.

Since the first episode, the kids have made two more. They are hysterical with their twisting and turning, nonsensical plot, and the wind is still giving them grief. Nevertheless, I love watching their inspirations come to life, and can't wait to see what they come up with next.

Loss, Mess, and Perspective

Yesterday started off with such promise for good things.... and promptly took a nosedive. It was the first morning of a new project that unfortunately required us to leave by 7:30 AM. If you have read my blog or know me in any way, then you may have noticed that leaving the house in the 7 o'clock hour is not something I like doing at all. In fact, I dislike it and make an effort to avoid making a habit of it. Mornings are my happy and quiet time when I prefer to be left in my own little bubble.

But, the kids had this good opportunity so we decided to go for it, and I was actually feeling positive at how well our morning was moving. Just as we were almost ready to head out the door, I asked my Boy Child to get the ice chest and some frozen water bottles, as I planned to do a little food shopping in town. He came back from the garage to tell me that there were no frozen bottles. No problem, I thought- I'll just buy ice, but then he mentioned that there was four inches of water on the bottom of the freezer. That is never a good sign.

 

 I went out to find tragedy. The entire contents of my huge freezer had thawed and were ruined. This was not just food that I bought at the store either. My Girl Child and I had spent hours and hours laboring this summer to make soups, sauces and broths with the bountiful summer veggies and herbs. I had never done anything like that before- filled my freezer with food I had made from scratch- and I was feeling so proud and Ma Ingalls like for having put away all that home made goodness to feed my family healthy food all winter.

Baffled, I looked around as to why on earth my food was no longer frozen. The plug was in. The circuit breaker was on. Then, I came to the on / off / temperature control knob on the outside of the freezer. It had a skateboard crammed up against it, and was turned all the way off.

Now I know that nobody turned the freezer off on purpose, but I think the owner of the skateboard- the one who crammed it there- might have some responsibility in this matter. I called him to look at the evidence. Immediately, he went to denial and shifting the blame which only made me more annoyed and angry.

We had to leave to get the kids to their obligation, and were supposed to be spending the next 12 hours in town. There was no way I was going to come home to face that mess after that long of a day, so I made the executive decision that we would cancel our afternoon plans, including guitar and band practice. Here came Round 2 of annoying responses as the Suspect semi- complained that he would have rather skipped the morning obligation- which is harder, longer and requires a lot more thinking, but also allows me to go to a yoga class and sauna while they are busy. Guitar practice is not long enough for me to do much besides a quick grocery run. Since we were supposed to be at Activity 1 in less than a half hour, and I felt that I needed yoga more than a grocery store trip, I basically told him to cork it, and my plan won.

I dropped the kids off, still stewing and deepening the crease in my forehead, and headed to my class. I had a few minutes and decided to call my Dad back. He shared with his own tale of woe about a faucet that leaked and flooded his laundry room, the office on the other side of the wall, and probably damaged some shared walls in his condo requiring the ripping out of walls, carpets and other massive efforts. OK, I realized I'm not the only one with troubles.

My yoga class started and was taught by a lovely woman who just radiated relaxation, while softly encouraging you to hold near painful positions for long periods of time. All the deep breathing and stretching was helping, but I still couldn't help an occasional snarl when I thought of the loss of time, money, food, and effort and the big mess still waiting for me. I thought of how most of the contents were in expensive glass jars so I couldn't even just throw them away, I had to wash them, and how I dislike doing dishes about as much as I dislike going places early mornings. I breathed deeper and tried to listen to the calming voice of the instructor.

 The class was nearly over when a woman with swollen, red eyes appeared in the doorway and waved to the woman on the mat next to me to come out of the class. She quickly headed for the door, and before it could close, we heard the words "Your brother is dead."

My tense jaw dropped, my breath stopped and everyone on that side of the room froze for a moment, not sure we had heard correctly. Sadly, we had heard correctly, and while I don't know these women or the details of what happened, my heart felt for them so much at that moment. I recognized the look of shock and pain on the mother's face, and I remembered the feeling of hearing that my child, my first son, had died so many years ago. The foggy brain, the disbelief, the details of hallways and paintings and faces of hospital staff-  those things are burned into my brain forever.

 For the rest of the day- in the sauna, while picking up my kids, and even while cleaning up the freezer mess- those women were in my heart, and I felt like I was grieving with them. The loss of my freezer contents was a bummer, but just isn't that big of a deal in perspective.

I hope that family is being loved and supported as they go through the next hard days and weeks. I know I'll be thinking about them, and sending prayers their way. I also know that no matter how annoyed I am with my own kids, I'll be hugging them a lot anyway.

The Fire Drill

It's been such an unbelievably mild summer in northern California, I haven't even thought about fire season. Until now. Suddenly, it's oppressively hot, and to top off the misery of melting in front of my swamp cooler, the wind is blowing so fiercely that it woke me this morning sounding like a motorcycle speeding on the freeway. The grass is bone dry, the plants and trees have shriveled, and something in the air just seems like trouble brewing . It feels like fire season.

I don't want to freak out my kids, but I do want them to be prepared, to know what to do just in case. So, I ask them to start thinking about it. We've been through this before, of course, which is probably why I did end up freaking them out anyway. My kids may have never had a school fire drill- they've never been to school, but living in the mountains, they have had the real thing more than once. No alarms and orderly exits, just smoke, wind and quickly trying to evaluate what is important enough to save and how to move so many animals.

It's a strange feeling to think about what you actually want to take with you. During our first wildfire scare, we had the luxury of a day to think hard about just that. The fire started a few miles away, but the wind was blowing in our direction, and the only thing in between were pine trees and manzanita bushes. Even before the call from the sheriffs office warning us to start packing, it didn't take a genius to figure out that we should be doing just that.

Of course living things came first, and we have a lot of them around here. Thank God for wonderful friends who came and picked up everything from our cats and dogs to our goats, chickens and ducks and housed them temporarily at their homes, even though they were not set up for such things.

Next came pictures and then as we still had a few hours before we had to be out, we packed our favorite clothes, books, art and toys. I let each kid pick for themselves what would go in their suitcase because you never really know what's special to another person. Some of our helpers couldn't understand why my Girl Child was choosing a doll made from a pancake syrup bottle over an expensive porcelain doll, and seemed upset about it. I think they expected me to be the voice of reason. Well, I reasoned that since Girl Child was the one who played with the things, she could probably decide what was actually important for herself. Mrs Butterworths made the cut.

We still laugh about that, and we'll probably still have that syrup bottle to give my grandkids. Our neighborhood was evacuated for a few days, but fortunately untouched by the fire.

Our next scare came a few years later. This time, we were in town, and noticed a huge plume of smoke in the east. Since it looked like it could be near our house, and fires moves quickly in the foothills, we skipped the rest of our errands and headed towards home. As we drove the 20 miles, the kids began to freak out about our elderly dog being stranded and unable to escape. I tried to calmly reassure them that we would be home in time.

Well, I looked like a big idiot a few minutes later when we found the road to our property blocked by the worlds grumpiest police man. He had no compassion whatsoever as he dryly told my crying kids that we could not get in, no matter what. A man with a press pass went in, but we couldn't. My Girl Child wanted me to just hit the gas and floor it past the cop, but he seemed like the type that would shoot out my tire and then drag me out of the car and taser me in front of my kids, so I opted not to. But, I was furious. Unfortunately, Officer Meanie made just about the worst first impression my kids could have ever had of the police force with his complete lack of kindness, respect or empathy.

Cars full of equally angry neighbors lined up, all of whom were being told no, you cannot go save your horses, your dogs, anything. One woman was near hysterics as her teenage son was home alone with no car to get out, but she was told to just wait while they did their jobs. I imagined the press man in there taking pictures of our burning things while we were supposed to sit there and wait.

Thankfully the fire fighters did their jobs very well. No homes, animals or people were harmed, and we very much appreciated their hard work. We went home and planned what would we do if it happened again. Things were a little more organized "in case of emergency" for a while, but of course life goes on. We can't live with all of our important things packed and ready all the time. They are out everywhere all over the house being looked at, used, played with and enjoyed.

But today when I woke up to hazy air and dry leaves rustling in the hot wind, I realized it's that time again- we need to think along those lines of being prepared. I mentally located my favorite picture albums while I told my kids to at least know where their most prized things are, just in case. I stepped out for a bit and came back to find my kids had packed bags, cat carriers and dog leashes ready to go. I'm very proud of them for thinking and planning, but I hadn't really meant for them to take it that far. I'm pretty sure I scared them and think if I had been gone too long, they might have started taking the pictures off the walls.

I let them know that it's looking like the haze in the air is coming from fires that are far away enough to the north that we aren't at risk from them. It's still the season and we're not out of the woods yet, but we don't have to pack up everything into boxes just so it's ready "in case." Just knowing where things are, and what our priorities are will have to be good enough. Maybe we'll attempt a rain dance as well.

Just Like Ma Ingalls

I've gone through several stages in my life where I've felt an awful lot like Ma Ingalls. I loved enjoying the Little House books with my kids when they were younger. At the time, we were going through what I refer to as our "self sufficiency phase" and living off the grid in the mountains of northern California, and the books were a perfect fit.

Basically, "off the grid" means we had no power from an electric company, and therefore, we had very little in the way of electricity. We had a ridiculously small propane refrigerator, (with not even enough freezer space for a carton of ice cream) and a wood stove to keep warm. Every few days, I would fire up our ancient generator to wash a load of laundry, and I tried very hard to time this during Sesame Street so I could have a few minutes on the computer while I had power and my children were occupied. Eventually, we bought a tiny solar panel that gave us a few house lights when it wasn't foggy, but it usually was foggy, so it wasn't often we had those lights. Mostly, we read at night by oil lamp, and went to bed early in the winter.


I realized back then that I am no Ma Ingalls. She was far more patient and hardy than I am, or at least her daughter Laura never mentions Ma complaining or freaking out about the hardships of trying to live off the land. I did both on a semi regular basis so I guess she was made of stronger stuff than I am. But, I'm glad we did try out that life. I know my kids gained valuable lessons in those few years, and so did I. I still love living in the country, but truth be told, I really like having a dishwasher.


Anyway, I realized recently that my Boy Child was so young, he barely remembers the Little House series, and he will probably soon be too old to be interested in reading them with me. So, before the time is past, I borrowed Farmer Boy and we curled up together to read. I could see him relating to the character of Almanzo and his life with his animals, just as I'd hoped. The BB gun came out, and he spent hours target shooting at cans. He wanted to make old fashioned ice cream, candles and a yoke for his goats (who I suspect would not appreciate  it.) We haven't made the ice cream yet, and I think we'll pass on the goat yoke, but we did roll some bees wax candles. Ma used lard from a freshly butchered pig, but again, I'm no Ma. We also checked out the Little House Cookbook, and made some extremely tasty home-made lemonade. We attempted butter making, but learned that no amount of shaking turns 1% milk into creamy butter. Boy child even took the book off to read on the wood pile by himself a few times, and was so engrossed, he didn't even notice the chicken reading over his shoulder. He came away every time inspired for more good old fashioned fun.

One cool project that we got my dear husband (aka "Pa" for this post) involved in was making lanterns. I am not so handy with tools, so when my big ideas require heavy or sharp metal objects, I usually tell the kids to go ask their father in a really excited and smiley way, and most of the time, they are able to enlist his help.  For our lanterns, we used a couple of metal cans that were headed to the recycling center. They drew dots in the shape of their chosen design- a star for Boy Child and a peace sign for Girl Child- and placed them over a wooden dowel. It required some hands on holding from Pa while they smashed holes in the can with a hammer and nail. Another benefit of not being handy with tools is that my fingers were not at risk at any time during this project. Pa was not so lucky.

We were really happy with the results. I like it when craft projects end up being useful and not just more dust collectibles in an already cluttered "little house." We put in a couple of (store bought) tea candles and had a nice candle lit supper. I think these will look lovely on the porch for a winters evening celebration as well.

We also watched a couple of episodes of the TV show, which Girl Child was a little disappointed in since they really varied pretty strongly from the books. The whole experience of reliving the Little House books made me so glad for the simple country childhood my kids have had the chance to live. It also made me extremely grateful to live in the time that I do where a trip to town for supplies is 20 minutes in my station wagon rather than all day in a horse drawn one, and the fact that my supplies can include butter and ice cream that are ready to eat without hours of work on my part. So maybe I'm not just like Ma Ingalls, but I think we've found a really nice balance of old and new that includes a good amount of nature and technology. It all adds up to a pretty good life here in our little house.

Stinkin' Goats

Most of the time, I love my goats, but some days, I have a strong urge to call them names that I would not print here on this family friendly blog of mine. Goats are mischievous creatures by nature, and to some degree it adds to their appeal. I think that most people who have not spent time with goats would be surprised at the amount of personality they have. Some goats are actually comparable to dogs in that respect. I've raised sheep as well, but in my experience, they were much more skittish, much less intelligent, and far less interested in interacting with humans. My sheep were also semi frequent targets of our local coyotes, and finding the remains of your pet first thing in the morning was very disturbing for both  children and adults. So, we decided to stick with goats.

Why do I even have goats? I don't milk them because that is a really big commitment which I am not feeling like I want to sign up for. I like some mild goat cheeses, but my husband says that chevre tastes like a goat smells. I don't raise them for meat either. We've tried eating goat meat in the past, but it just wasn't really that tasty to me. Besides, the goats I have now are too old to eat and would probably be stringy and gross. Plus, I do like them most of the time, and I have a thing about not eating animals that I personally like.

We got our first goats when our human kids were tiny and we lived in some very poison oak covered mountains. Since I'm highly allergic to poison oak, and I pretty much was always getting it, we enlisted the help of a few baby goats to eat back the overgrowth. We named them Gretta and Ingmar (my husband had for some reason wanted to name one of his sons Ingmar, but I decided that by giving the name to a goat, I could get out of that idea.) They were tiny and playful and adorable. They had to be bottle fed, which I can tell you is a big pain in the butt, and really made me glad I just breastfed my human kids. Sadly, Ingmar was eaten by a mountain lion, but that is another long story in itself.

We've moved to a much less poison oak covered property since, but the land around us is steep and very dry in the summer. Goats are amazing at mowing the rocky hillsides and keeping the fire danger down. Our herd has grown, then shrank, and over all changed. Now we are down to 4 goats that we like- well the kids and I like 3 of them and dear husband says he likes the other one, but I can't imagine why. We still have Gretta who is a short, plump and sweet old lady who gets a beautiful full coat every winter that I really should brush out and make into yarn, but I never have. SweetPea is wonderful to humans, and was a great mother who nursed her triplets like it was nothing, but does not like dogs and will chase them down. Noah is a wether (neutered male) who is really tall and has huge horns, but is so sweet and has potential as a pack goat if I was ever on the ball enough to train him. The last goat is Abby who has a bad attitude and seems to have mental problems. She always looks angry and frequently has raised hair down her spine while she sharpens her horns on any nearby tree. It is not at all endearing or cute, and I'm hoping I've convinced my husband that the herd will be better off without her.

We often take our goats hiking in the hills around us. We picnic and read while they graze and try to steal our books and snacks. Those are the times we really enjoy our herd. Then, there are the times when they discover a weak spot in the hot wire fence and decide to climb it and eat most of our fruit trees. Those are followed by the times when they rub their horns on a water pipe and turn it on causing our well to drain. Chasing goats who are destroying expensive trees that you have babied for years in hopes of someday having your own fruit tends to make one a bit angry. When it happens in 95 degree whether, and I get all hot and stinky, and then find out I can't take a shower because they drained all my water, it's not easy to restrain myself from loud and ugly outbursts. When I have to immediately take my hot and stinky un-showered goat smelling self to my crowded Interpersonal Communication class, then I become bitter, which is where I was earlier this week.

The morning after this unpleasant incident, I had my Boy Child let the goats out and feed them as I was still holding a grudge. But later, when I went outside to do something else, there they were, maaahing their hellos and trying to look cute. At first I just flared my nostrils, glared and went on about my business. They followed me along the fence line wagging their tails like dogs and trying to get my attention. Maybe they just wanted more grain, but I imagined they wanted my forgiveness too (especially since I am the one who buys the grain, and who probably gives them most back scratching and attention.) Luckily for them, it's hard to be mad at cute things. Plus, I had been able to shower at the health club, so I no longer smelled like stinkin' goats and my water tank was slowly filling back up. I gave in and scratched their heads over the fence. They're on my good side again, for now at least. I just hope they don't have any more fence breaking, landscape destroying, well draining mischief in the near future.

Not a Chicken

This is the sight I see out my kitchen window as I make my morning coffee. It's Miss Tequila Puffy Cheeks trying to find a way in to join her family for breakfast.
I love this chicken dearly, but she just can't seem to accept the fact that she is a chicken. Maybe that is what endears her to me. It certainly isn't the fact that she refuses to go in the coop with the other chickens, and instead hangs out on the porch napping in the dogs beds, or that she peers in the windows, startling me when I look out, or that she tries to come in the house if we leave a door open. She definitely has more personality than any other chicken I've had, and I've had a LOT of chickens in the last 5 years.
When I come home from a long day in town, I'm greeted at the end of the driveway by two happy dogs, but as soon as I pull in front of the house, I have another fan- Miss Tequila runs full speed at me with what I imagine is a smile on her beak. If you've never seen a chicken run, the stance is similar to the way dinosaurs run in movies, with the head tilted forward aerodynamically. She comes at me with amazing speed, and then stops right in front of me as I open the car door and looks up making a low cluck until I stop and pay attention to her. If I try to just walk by, she'll keep running in front of me until I stop. It's hard to read a chicken, because their faces aren't exactly expressive, but she has a pretty intense way of staring into your eyes like she's trying to hypnotize you into giving her extra grain. She also does a lot with body language, and I'm pretty sure that if she had more of a tail, she would wag it.

Besides the tail, one difference between Miss Tequila and the dogs is that the dogs usually save their super excitement towards me for when I get home, or they hear me say the word "walk" or when I have food. Miss Tequila runs up to me with an adoring look just about every time I walk out the door. And when I don't walk out, half the time I can see her looking in at me someplace.

Another big difference between the dogs and this chicken who doesn't think she's a chicken, is that she isn't potty trained. That is not at all endearing of course because as you may well imagine, a chicken on the front porch means chicken poop on the front porch. We've all learned to look carefully before we step, but we've still had a number of accidents. A particularly tragic incident involved Boy Child dribbling his brand new basketball. He was not at all impressed, and had a chicken loathing moment, but he got over it. I realize that there is such a thing as a chicken diaper, and I am actually probably crafty enough to make some, but I've already done my cloth diaper washing days with young humans. I can't seem to muster the enthusiasm for repeating it with a bird. I just rely on the hose, frequently.

We've tried training her to go to the coop with the rest of the chickens, carrying her down there daily. While she seems to enjoy being picked up, as soon as we round the corner near the coop, her entire body stiffens. Sometimes she tries to escape, and other times she just hides her head in a nest box as soon as we put her in, as if she can't bear to look at us or those other chickens. But, no matter how many times I put her in the coop, she never, ever goes there on her own, nor does she stay once the door is opened.

My husband is not as sympathetic nor as bonded with animals as I am and suggests turning the BBQ on and roasting her when she hops onto it as a perch, or literally serving chicken for lunch when she tries to join us at a picnic. He sees her as being stupid for not going in the chicken coop, but I see it as a sign of intelligence. I mean, who would want to hang out in there? I was telling a friend about this chicken who thinks she's a part of the family, and they put a terrible thought in my head. What if reincarnation were real, and Miss Tequila was a former human trapped in a chicken body, and now I keep locking her in a filthy coop? So, I quit trying to force her into socializing with chickens. I do shoo her off the porch, but otherwise I just let her hang out where she pleases.

Of course, I do get pretty frustrated myself when I find her relaxing on my rocker on the porch, but not exactly angry enough to eat her. I'll just have to make sure to keep looking before I step or sit while I'm enjoying the affection from my favorite feathered friend.

Well, well, well...water troubles.

We've been thinking a lot about water at our house these days. I think most people in America can take water for granted, and they have no reason to think how lucky they are. I don't just mean clean water- there is plenty of pollution in waterways, and a lot of city tap water tastes similar to a swimming pool- but when you can just turn on a tap, and it never runs out, you don't really need to put a lot thought into it. You hop in the shower, you wash your laundry and water your plants and there's always plenty of water. It just keeps coming. Even if you have a high water bill, or an ethical conviction and you take steps to reduce water use, there is still the blessing of knowing the water is there if you need or want it. All you have to do is turn a handle.

Of course people in undeveloped countries often don't have access to water, but it's not something I ever really thought about for myself personally, at least not while I'm at my home in the US. Now though, I do think about water a lot, especially at this time of year. Living out of town with a well for our water source, we've had to face the reality that there is not always plenty of water. In fact, we've had our well stop pumping because we were actually out of water more than once. The worst instance was a few years ago when our neighborhood had been evacuated due to a threatening wildfire, and a neighbor had left a sprinkler running on his roof for days. When we returned home, neither of us had any water for some time. Apparently, even when you have your own wells, if the underground source is shared and it gets used by someone else, you're out of luck too. This has happened other times when people move nearby and think that they are going to be able to have sprawling green lawns or keep their fish ponds full all summer. Everyone who has lived here for any amount of time knows those things aren't going to happen, but for those new to it, there's a bit of denial. Eventually it sinks in though, usually after several expensive visits from the well driller and the water hauling truck.

Of course, the water has come back, although slowly and not in large quantities, but the only casualties were some plants. When people hear that we ran out of water, they are always so amazed because it seems unthinkable that such a thing could happen. Yes, it's pretty inconvenient to find out you've used up your water, but I still know that I'm lucky. No one is going to die because we're out of water, well except for maybe a few plants. We just have to hop in the car, and we can buy a few gallons to drink or go to a family members house to shower or wash clothes. We don't have to hike for miles, or drink dirty water that an ox bathed in and that will make us ill, so by world standards, having a few flowers die isn't really such a big deal.

I think I was pretty respectful of resources before I ever knew what having a well in a really dry area could mean, but turning a pipe on and having nothing come out, and then knowing that you can't do anything but wait for however long it takes to come back, has made me even more conscious and cautious about how much water we use. We've had to make choices, and let go of certain things- like my idea of a summer garden. There will also be no slip n' slide in my childrens' future, nor will they be playing in sprinklers at home. It's a little frustrating to see sprinklers running off down the sidewalk and into the gutter in town, or water shooting away over fields in the mid afternoon sun and evaporating 1/3 of the water that comes out. The people who turned on the water probably don't even know it's being wasted, or have any idea that it's even a problem.

Looking on the positive side, it's given us plenty of real life opportunity and desire to learn more about water usage and conservation. We've learned about gray water systems, rainwater collection and drought tolerant landscapes, and we've been able to implement some of the things we've learned into our lives. It's also made us think a lot about all the people in the world who will lose much more than their summer gardens because they don't have enough water, and what we can do about it. Knowing that there are mothers who will lose their children because they don't have any clean water makes me incredibly thankful to have the access to water that I do, even if it does run out now and then.

According to Charity: Water , "One billion people on our planet lack access to safe, clean drinking water. That's one in eight of us. 80% of all disease is attributable to the lack of water and basic sanitation. Unsafe water claims more lives each year than war." Charity: Water is a project dedicated to building freshwater wells in Africa. I came across it through the Art of Non Conformity blog, and thought it a worthy project to support and spread the word about.

I assume most people reading this have plenty of water, and I'm glad for that. Even if it is just as easy as the turn of a knob, I hope you'll think about the precious resource water is, and not let it go to waste. We truly are blessed to have it. And, if you're so inclined, maybe you'll want to find a water project to support, or check out the one listed above that helps some of those people in the world who aren't as lucky.

A Frog A Day...

I feel like my home is being invaded by frogs. I don't know if it's from all the late rain, or what, but we have frogs everywhere, and I mean everywhere, these days. I step out on the porch, and a frog hops out of the dogs water dish. I trim some dead blooms off a rose bush, and a frog jumps on my foot. I walk down to the chicken coop in the dark, and a toad gives me a heart attack shuffling in the grass and sounding like a snake.

But, the frogs and toads outside are something we're fairly used to. We've been rescuing tadpoles for years- when the creek and puddles down the hill from us are drying up and you know that all the little guys with no legs are not going to make it unless they get more water, we try to make sure they're moist long enough to get legs at least. So most summers we have a good number of frogs living in the plants outside our house. It's as dry as can be around here, and living in our drought tolerant bushes that hardly ever get watered anyway is their only chance at any moisture at all for quite a ways. Since a frogs survival depends on water (they take in water and some oxygen through their skin) I wonder what the the ones who hatched, grew and hopped off into the woods do when everything dries up for the season. Maybe they bury themselves in the mud or something, because at some point, there is absolutely no water left at their hatching place down the hill.

In any case, as curious as I am about those frogs, I am more curious as to why on earth I have so many frogs up here this year. Maybe we were over zealous with the tadpole rescue efforts, because this year, the frogs haven't just been outside our house. We've been finding them inside, and not just occasionally either. We're pretty much finding at least a frog a day inside- one day, we found three of them inside the house. It's beginning to feel like a Biblical plague. They've been in the houseplants, in the windows, and the doorway. I unknowingly touched one on a light switch in the dark the other night, and the unexpected gooey squishy feeling made me jump up and scream, and generally freak out. It also probably added to the silver highlights in my hair. I found one in the shower yesterday, and one in an empty juice pitcher in my kitchen sink this morning. Yes, that was gross, and I'm not sure the fate of that pitcher. I may have to downgrade it to vase, as I think I may always see the image of the frog staring at me in it. As I was up late reading last night, one hopped across the rug. My husband just found one in his shoe- when he put it on! I don't think the frog appreciated that. My son tried to catch one in the living room the other day, but it was too quick and jumped behind the couch. The poor thing was immediately and completely coated in a dog hairball. It looked very uncomfortable for the poor thing, but at least he was easier to catch.

If I'm going to have frogs invading my home, I guess I should be glad that they are generally cute little frogs, only about the size of a quarter as opposed to big ugly things. But still, they're a lot cuter when they're outside. I enjoy photographing frogs outside, but since they tend to hop off frantically when confronted by flashing clicking things, I am sticking with just trying to catch them inside, so I can release them back outside. I'm afraid if they get stuck in here, they'll end up drying out behind some furniture, and I'll find mummified little froglets the next time I move the furniture. I already found one dried up in a glass bowl in a sunny place, and it was a bit sad, as well as very creepy looking. We haven't decided whether or not to check it out under the microscope yet.

Someone mentioned to me that many people eat frogs, but despite the fact that I'm sure they taste just like chicken and all, I just don't think that I'm that resourceful. Besides these frogs aren't really large enough in my opinion to bother cooking up. I figured I would at least try to be a good homeschooling mom though, and turn this frog invasion into a learning opportunity in any case. We found lots of interesting facts at this website- for example, who knew that some frogs actually lay their eggs in dry areas and keep them wet with urine? Or that some frogs begin the molting process by eating the skin around their mouths, and then pulling the rest of the skin off over their head and eating it? These are the kind of gross and weird facts that I'll bet my kids will love. We may never know what is behind this summer of frogs, but maybe we'll learn a thing or two through it. I'm pretty sure my husband learned to shake his shoes out before he sticks his foot in anyway.

Tadpole Trauma

Every year about this time, we do a massive tadpole rescue operation. The creek that borders our property flows seasonally- it goes from raging in the winter to mostly dry with the exception of a few puddles in the summer. We are down there a lot in the spring admiring all the new life, and while we catch and observe them for a few minutes, we don't take them from their home.
I've had other kids think I'm a big meanie for making them leave tadpoles in their creek home, but I figure if it has enough water to sustain them, that's where they should be- squiggling free. But, at some point when the rains stop for the season, you pretty much know that the tadpoles who still have tails but no legs are not likely to finish developing in time to hop away before the watery home dries up altogether.

I'm a big softy when it comes to animals, especially young ones, and the thought of dried up tadpoles disturbs me more than captive ones. So for the last few years, each spring when there is not much chance they'll make it otherwise, we head out with buckets and retrieve as many as we can. We have a big aquarium that we set up on our front porch for just this purpose. It has rocks and plants from the creek, and is open on the top with branches to help them climb / hop out to freedom when they're ready.
In years past, we've also had water skimmers make the habitat their home, as well as a few mosquito larvae (I catch and feed the mosquito larvae to chickens- I have no mercy or soft spot for them.)

This year, we had a horrid new bug stop by to eat at the habitat. It was a back swimmer, a true bug with a piercing mouth that is used both to suck plant juices, and to inject digestive juices into prey (such as tadpoles.) These nasty creatures can both fly and swim (they swim upside down, hence the name.) We had a handful get in our human swimming pool last year- they use their hideous mouth to bite humans too and it hurts, probably because of the digestive juices, which is just really creepy to think about.
Well, I was out observing my cute little tadpoles, and the tiny little frogs in our porch habitat, when I saw a most traumatizing site. One of those evil back swimmers was under water, upside down- it had it's disgusting mouth latched onto a cute little frog and was pulling it under! It was awful! I think I probably screamed something like "Oh my gosh you evil demon creature- what are you doing?!?" and quickly grabbed a nearby cup that one of my children had left on the porch. I scooped up the attacker and his victim, who were firmly attached, and yelled for my children. I'm not sure that I really thought through why on earth they should witness this disturbing scene, but they heard me and came running. We all hollered about the brutality of nature for a minute, and then tried to save the poor little frog, but sadly, it was too late for him. Nevertheless, we promptly smashed the awful back swimmer before he could find another victim or reproduce any more of his terrible kind. Again, no soft spot here.

Later the same day, we had another interesting encounter with nature. My Boy Child was scooping cupfuls of our habitat water and checking out what was in it up close when he came across another rather ugly insect near the bottom. I almost judged it based on it's ugliness, but then I thought it looked a little familiar, like it was possibly a dragonfly nymph. We looked it up in the Handbook of Nature Study, and sure enough, it was a little dragonfly in the making. Now, for another dilemma...apparently this little fellow is also a voracious predator too. Its one thing to know that he's ugly as sin right now, but will someday be a beautiful dragonfly, and it's another to know that he too is probably going to eat a bunch of our tadpoles along the way.

We kept him in a cup for a few hours while we decided. First, we read a bunch. On the plus side, we all enjoy the sight of dragonflies gracefully skimming through the air on summer evenings, and once they take wing, they eat other flying insects like mosquitoes by the dozen. They also eat mosquito larvae in the water while in the nymph stage which is another bonus. But, they aren't particular diners, so there's a good chance he'd also eat some of our our little legless frogs to be as well. They can also take years to get to the flight stage, and there was no way I'm keeping this tank habitat up for years. We looked for another body of water that might support him- preferably one that was full of mosquito larvae. Unbelievably, we couldn't find anyplace that looked like he could live there.

None of us felt right about dumping him, and since we hadn't seen him in the act of killing as we had with evil back swimmer, we certainly didn't feel he deserved a direct death sentence. We didn't really like the idea of him munching our tadpoles, but in the end, we decided that we'd take the risk. We did have about 12 million tadpoles in the tank, so a few might be sacrificial ones for our dragonfly. One nice thing is that dragonfly nymphs are bottom dwellers, so we wouldn't need to look at his ugliness or the carnage of his feeding.

Well, maybe a week later, I was out observing again, and I saw this little guy hiding in the grass. Our little nymph had just completed his transformation to his new dragonfly form- his wings weren't even dry yet, and his empty nymph shell was still right there next to him. It was very neat for the kids to see. We spotted another empty nymph shell in the grass, and later, found another nymph in the water. Apparently, we had more than one dragonfly, which was very cool. We also still have 12 million tadpoles, so we don't feel bad about the possibility that a few were snacked on either.
We're starting to get more and more little frogs every day. I have a feeling it's going to be a noisy summer around here.

Savoring Spring

It seems like the end of the school year, and Memorial Day approaching have most people thinking about summer. I know it will be here soon, and am looking forward to all the hot weather fun summer brings, but at the moment, I am savoring spring. In the same way that I can't bring myself to focus on Christmas in October, even if the stores are decorated for it before Halloween, I also am focusing more on enjoying what's left of this season that's in front of me now before I'm ready to move on to the next one.

There's just something about the carefree feeling of spring that brings out my inner school skipping self, and has made me want to play hooky for as long as I can remember. How can we be inside- whether in my office, or our house, when the sun is shining, the birds are singing and the flowers are blooming? This beautiful weather was made for us to enjoy, so I'm trying to make sure we get out and enjoy it while it lasts.
It's amazing what a difference a little sunshine can make in one's mental state too. After the dark cold winter, a little sunshine on my face is like a shot of something yummy, with no negative side effects (well, except wrinkles and potential carcinomas, but man, it feels really nice.) I don't know how people in Alaska or Iceland make it through the winter months year after year.We've had a lot of late rain and unseasonably cold days this year, which has made the sunshine even more appreciated.

Pollen allergies have tried to put a bit of a damper on our spirits, but we decided we'd play now anyway while the weather is nice, even if we have to pay later with itchy eyes and runny noses.

The grass in our pastures in taller than it has been in years, which my goats are thrilled about, and so am I because that means less hay we'll have to buy this summer. It also means less frolicking romps through the meadows because it's rattlesnake season, and it's nice to be able to see where you're stepping. We've had up close encounters in the past, and I personally prefer to avoid them.

We've had a few late frosts, and random thunderstorms as well, but fortunately, with most of that thunder also came rain, which we really needed. Our local lakes are fuller than I can remember them being in a long time, which is a really nice way to head into summer.

Spring, and all it's new beginnings really bring out my optimism on a number of levels.  It has the kids and I inspired to work in the yard again finding all the amazing things that have grown and thrived despite some degree of seasonal neglect and extremes in temperatures and water levels. I love discovering what plants are hardy around here, because they are the ones I deal best with. Finicky, temperamental, sensitive and needy things don't tend to do as well under my care. I do like to nurture things to some degree, but I'm a bigger fan of low maintenance. It's a quality I appreciate in all things- plants, animals and humans alike. Slight imperfections are appreciated as well, and I have no problem seeing the beauty of a rose, even if it has a little insect damage.

Speaking of hardiness, one of my favorite spring sights is the lone flower busting through a crack in the sidewalk in downtown. I've seen it over and over, in numerous concrete jungles, and it always makes me smile. I know, some people call them weeds, and will probably be there with a can of poison to stop that unruly growth soon, but personally, I appreciate the persistence of nature. It reminds me that there are things out of our control, so lightening up might not be a bad idea, and more importantly, that even in the ugliest situations, beauty can sprout.

Clouds just rolled in with cold wind, and it started to rain. I guess it looks like we'll be enjoying this spring day in front of the fire playing board games. I'm glad we celebrated the more spring like days while they lasted. What are you all doing to enjoy the last days of the season?

Flower Fields

Carlsbad, California is a formerly quaint little beach town in northern San Diego, which unfortunately has exploded in the last few years and is now home to probably 7 Starbucks and countless houses that all look exactly the same. But, I still love Carlsbad because it is also still the home of some wonderfully beautiful scenery, and some really cool people- including some of my favorite relatives- plus, the town just has a good feel to it. There are glorious beaches, some cute old beach homes that haven't yet been mowed down to put up condos, and a surprising amount of farmland that hasn't been cemented in yet either.
The most famous farm is the flower fields. If you drive by during the right time in spring, you'll be wowed by over 50 acres of fabulous blooms all lined up in rainbow stripes.


It really is quite a glorious site- one I haven't seen in years, and my kids didn't really remember ever seeing since our last few visits have been at other times of the year. This year, we lucked out and our visit timed perfectly into sunshine and blooms, and I'm thinking they'll remember it. The main crop at the flower fields is ranunculus, but the gardens also include miniature roses, sweet pea and anemone. Years ago, you could just take a stroll through the rows anytime, but like everything else, that has changed too, and now it is a big tourist attraction with wagon ride and educational tours that costs in the range $10 a pop to get in.


Despite my nostalgia about the days when the flower fields were free to roam, I'm glad that they've found a way to keep their farm going by successfully combining agriculture and tourism. They're also bringing something a whole lot prettier to the world than another soy field or a cattle lot.

We weren't feeling up for a tour, but did stop to admire the views from a walkway on the hillside street above. I suppose I could have gotten all educational about it and created a unit study on the flowers grown there, their history, the horticultural hot points, imports and exports etc, but none of that really appealed to me at the time. I just wanted to appreciate the beauty of the flowers with my kids. So we did.

We did end up having a very philosophical talk about politics and economics though. Seeing all the farm workers prompted a discussion about immigration, legal and otherwise, and low paying agricultural jobs that not many people really want, but are really important that keeping things like farms going. This led to talking about consumerism, cheap labor and political backlash looking at several sides of the issues. I love the organic way learning just happens, and it was especially poetic that it happened on  farm- and a great looking farm at that.

My Brownish / Green Thumb

Most winters, I look at garden catalogs, excitedly planning and plotting for the growing year ahead. I have always liked the idea of a garden as a part of our lives, of our homeschooling, and as a contributor to our food. This year, for some reason, I just couldn't muster up the effort to care. I think I was just sick of the failure. Every summer for the past few years, in the height of the growing season, when all the booths at the Framers Market are full of fresh fruits and vegetables, and all my gardening friends have bumper crops of tomatoes and squash, I am lamenting what horrible luck I have with my garden. 

The heat is oppressive, my soil is rocky and infertile, I can't keep up with the watering, and things shrivel up in the sun and die. I have actually lost multiple fruit trees from sunburn. Who knew trees could get a fatal sunburn? Every year, I keep trying, and every year, large numbers of plants in my care die a dry and painful looking death. I don't even want to think about how much money I have spent on plants that didn't make it, and I certainly don't want my husband to think about it. Nor do I want him to think about how many holes he has dug which now occupy dead twigs. Sometimes the plants live, but look awful all summer, and don't produce anything edible, so what good does that do me in my quest for self sufficiency? What kind of botanical lessons am I giving my children?

Well, now, it's almost spring, and it's really hard to feel bad about the garden in spring. This is the time of year when everything is green and full of life, and the fact that I live in a beautiful place is very much everywhere I look. While sipping my morning coffee in my overgrown and neglected flower and herb beds with a cat the other morning, I began to notice how many things were not only alive, but blooming and thriving.






And- many of them were actually things I had planted! So, I don't kill everything- lots of things I try to grow die- BUT, lots of things live too, and many of them are doing really well- especially the hardy herbs, like the rosemary above with the happy bee, and the tasty sage, and the fragrant lavender, and the refreshing mint.

I feel like an herb advertisement!


But wait....... there's more.

I have a few vegetables that have managed to live here on our Rocky Ridge Farm as well.


This beautiful Rainbow Swiss Chard is apparently being appreciated by some insects since the plants have a few holes in them, but they are alive and thriving after several seasons of neglect, and we harvest bunches daily. It's an amazing plant  that just keeps coming back year after year. It usually looks pretty good, it is very low maintenance, and  it provides us with lots of tasty greens- it really is a miracle plant in my case.

And then there's this bunch of lettuce that my daughter forgot she planted last fall. We also found some forgotten radishes that didn't look so good, but made a decent addition to a salad. The lettuces were the base of the salad, and a very pleasant surprise at the end of winter. Kids are always proud when they grow something that makes it to the dinner table, and adults are too.  I get a satisfaction out of contributing to our sustenance, even if only in very small bits. I may not have a green thumb, but I guess it's not as brown as I thought either. I decided to call it a lovely brownish-green hue, which means I'll probably buy more plants, and while the weak and high maintenance types may not make it, a few strong super hardy specimens will survive and be a part of my next harvest.
I don't think we'll be living off the land any time soon, but we will be enjoying what we've grown nonetheless.
If else anyone has any amazingly hardy plants to recommend (that can tolerate hot and dry climates,) I'd love to hear about them.