"i seenk, een fact, zat ze impressioneests were copeeing ze smaller peeeople. abstract art deeepends from where you are looking." says monsieur c[translated from the original by mama b]
30.6.09
impressionism
"i seenk, een fact, zat ze impressioneests were copeeing ze smaller peeeople. abstract art deeepends from where you are looking." says monsieur c[translated from the original by mama b]
the brussel sprout bandwagon
there are some things that aren't so great about winter.
sworn as i am to a locally produced seasonally available diet i sometimes feel my obligations weigh heavier than they should. take, for example, that little green gem of the winter: the brussel sprout.
i was going to grow some this winter -i found the seeds in my seed drawer last week, but i never got round to it. i think it may have been my taste-buds subliminally controlling my brain that stopped it from happening. when i saw the seeds, still sealed in their little packet, all i could come up with was 'oh well', as i filed them to the back of the drawer to forget again next season.
but you know how it is, right?
mmm, boiled brussel sprouts.
oooh, steamed brussel sprouts.
the opportunities seem endless!
but then something happened.
sometimes something so big happens in your life that you have to share it with your friends (i don't know where i would be without blogging!!!) immediately.
friends, republicans, countryfolk: this may be the moment you have been waiting for.
baked brussel sprouts!
oh yes, cut those babies into quarters; swirl about in a small bath of olive oil and balsamic vinegar; toss in some pine nuts and bake them in the oven for 20 minutes. when they're done shave a bit of parmesan over the top and voilà, bob est ton oncle!
now bring me the next person who dares say brussel sprouts are boring! and i'll cut off their ears.
xxx
mama b
sworn as i am to a locally produced seasonally available diet i sometimes feel my obligations weigh heavier than they should. take, for example, that little green gem of the winter: the brussel sprout.
i was going to grow some this winter -i found the seeds in my seed drawer last week, but i never got round to it. i think it may have been my taste-buds subliminally controlling my brain that stopped it from happening. when i saw the seeds, still sealed in their little packet, all i could come up with was 'oh well', as i filed them to the back of the drawer to forget again next season.
but you know how it is, right?
mmm, boiled brussel sprouts.
oooh, steamed brussel sprouts.
the opportunities seem endless!
but then something happened.
sometimes something so big happens in your life that you have to share it with your friends (i don't know where i would be without blogging!!!) immediately.
friends, republicans, countryfolk: this may be the moment you have been waiting for.
baked brussel sprouts!
oh yes, cut those babies into quarters; swirl about in a small bath of olive oil and balsamic vinegar; toss in some pine nuts and bake them in the oven for 20 minutes. when they're done shave a bit of parmesan over the top and voilà, bob est ton oncle!
now bring me the next person who dares say brussel sprouts are boring! and i'll cut off their ears.
xxx
mama b
27.6.09
things that begin with 2
we're on to two syllables now.
we don't count words like papa, or mama, or hmmhmm. that's just simple repitition, right?
we're talking about marmite.
for about 96% of the world's population right now, reading this, i can hear a collective 'what?'...
since the day after the beginning of time (tuesday, or thereabouts) the commonwealth countries have been waging a battle based on yeast extracts. for those of you who consider yourselves to be amongst the 96% questions based on WTF are acceptable just now.
in aotearoa we consider our mate, marmite to be far superior to those aussie's vegemite. or the pom's marmite.
and our wee man has confirmed this by expanding his lexicon to include Marmite as his first 2 syllable word. (you may note in several photos on this blog and on our web album that c always seems to be doing his best impersonation of a beardybloke- this is marmite). You either love it, or you hate it. it appears c has formally lodged himself with the former.
and on the second of two subjects concerning 2
this time it does follow one. as in one two. or, un deux.
actually, it should be un deux trois as we introduce all arrivals (ball throwing, emptying of cup of water over head, etc) by way of un deux trois, always with 'a certain tone'.
c has started repeating it. his intonation is correct -slightly nasal. but he hasn't got time for trois. oh no, no 3 hasn't arrived yet in his life. it's all un deux go! and yes, he catches me out, every time...
aiie, the new generation eh? they just have to go and reinvent stuff don't they
xxx
mama b
(i actually fell foul of the water over head thing when c experimented with his first undeux in the bath)
we don't count words like papa, or mama, or hmmhmm. that's just simple repitition, right?
we're talking about marmite.
for about 96% of the world's population right now, reading this, i can hear a collective 'what?'...
since the day after the beginning of time (tuesday, or thereabouts) the commonwealth countries have been waging a battle based on yeast extracts. for those of you who consider yourselves to be amongst the 96% questions based on WTF are acceptable just now.
in aotearoa we consider our mate, marmite to be far superior to those aussie's vegemite. or the pom's marmite.
and our wee man has confirmed this by expanding his lexicon to include Marmite as his first 2 syllable word. (you may note in several photos on this blog and on our web album that c always seems to be doing his best impersonation of a beardybloke- this is marmite). You either love it, or you hate it. it appears c has formally lodged himself with the former.
and on the second of two subjects concerning 2
this time it does follow one. as in one two. or, un deux.
actually, it should be un deux trois as we introduce all arrivals (ball throwing, emptying of cup of water over head, etc) by way of un deux trois, always with 'a certain tone'.
c has started repeating it. his intonation is correct -slightly nasal. but he hasn't got time for trois. oh no, no 3 hasn't arrived yet in his life. it's all un deux go! and yes, he catches me out, every time...
aiie, the new generation eh? they just have to go and reinvent stuff don't they
xxx
mama b
(i actually fell foul of the water over head thing when c experimented with his first undeux in the bath)
23.6.09
the littlest corsican driver
in aotearoa you need to be 15 years old before you drive; in the republic we let our citizens get behind the wheel at 15 months!
beepbeep!!
beepbeep!!
merry matariki!
the maori refer to a bunch of stars that appear low upon the morning horizon in late may as matariki. in other parts of the world these stars are called pleiades and subaru. down here they're significant as their arrival brings on the new year. in ancient times the maori believed the brighter the stars, the better the harvest. traditionally the period of time between the sighting of matariki and the following new moon was the time to connect with your family, tell tales, feast, and to prepare the garden for the following season.
last week we were busying ourselves in the garden in preparation for matariki. we finished making the raised beds, put in fence posts, dug, moved and raked soil. our garden was readied for the celebrations, for the new moon plantings and the oncoming spring.
in the republic we celebrated many cultures- yule's simple lighting of faerie lights on a tree and leaving little bundles of food for the faeries; we feasted with friends, told tales and shared wine; and on the morning of the shortest day the citizens of the republic busied themselves planting garlic and collecting seaweed.
today is the new moon, the beginning of the new year.
we wish you all good luck, love and happiness a plenty for the next year!
kia ora
xx
mama b
ps. so, it may not come as much of a surprise, but i didn't manage to rise in time to see the matariki. maybe next year, eh.
last week we were busying ourselves in the garden in preparation for matariki. we finished making the raised beds, put in fence posts, dug, moved and raked soil. our garden was readied for the celebrations, for the new moon plantings and the oncoming spring.
in the republic we celebrated many cultures- yule's simple lighting of faerie lights on a tree and leaving little bundles of food for the faeries; we feasted with friends, told tales and shared wine; and on the morning of the shortest day the citizens of the republic busied themselves planting garlic and collecting seaweed.
today is the new moon, the beginning of the new year.
we wish you all good luck, love and happiness a plenty for the next year!
kia ora
xx
mama b
ps. so, it may not come as much of a surprise, but i didn't manage to rise in time to see the matariki. maybe next year, eh.
19.6.09
the comparitive speeds of mother nature
of course i adore mother nature. i dance the moons, pray the sun, worship the seasons as they pass. i'm a gardener aren't i?
but what i don't get is mother nature's many arms.
today i harvested the carrots. in the name of progress and all that, the carrots were just in the way. so despite the fact that some of them could have done with a wee bit longer in the ground, out they came.
i sowed the seeds, when? (all good gardeners keep a diary) um, let's just say a while ago. the quantity of seeds sewn accounted for thinning (done by my apprentice gardener, calix) and other general losses. but my cunning didn't deal with mother nature.
my cunning didn't need to worry about pestilence or foul weather, mother nature has been kind this carrot growing season (apart from the odd carrot fly, but we won't go into that)
what my cunning didn't allow for was that a while ago, when i sowed the seeds, my wee man adored carrots. he loved carrots. if he could have been a legume, he would have chosen to be a carrot. (or perhaps, if he was going to be a garden pest, his beast of choice would be the carrot fly).
but that was then
now, well, he's kinda over the carrots.
orange is no longer his favourite colour.
so as i pulled out each of these orange, nearly vegetarian treats i was willing mother nature to wave one of her many arms in the direction of my son and then, lo and behold: tonight's rissotto contained a couple of said orange treats and guess who didn't refuse them!
yippee!
xx
mama b
but what i don't get is mother nature's many arms.
today i harvested the carrots. in the name of progress and all that, the carrots were just in the way. so despite the fact that some of them could have done with a wee bit longer in the ground, out they came.
i sowed the seeds, when? (all good gardeners keep a diary) um, let's just say a while ago. the quantity of seeds sewn accounted for thinning (done by my apprentice gardener, calix) and other general losses. but my cunning didn't deal with mother nature.
my cunning didn't need to worry about pestilence or foul weather, mother nature has been kind this carrot growing season (apart from the odd carrot fly, but we won't go into that)
what my cunning didn't allow for was that a while ago, when i sowed the seeds, my wee man adored carrots. he loved carrots. if he could have been a legume, he would have chosen to be a carrot. (or perhaps, if he was going to be a garden pest, his beast of choice would be the carrot fly).
but that was then
now, well, he's kinda over the carrots.
orange is no longer his favourite colour.
so as i pulled out each of these orange, nearly vegetarian treats i was willing mother nature to wave one of her many arms in the direction of my son and then, lo and behold: tonight's rissotto contained a couple of said orange treats and guess who didn't refuse them!
yippee!
xx
mama b
14.6.09
playcentre
everyone needs to play
c has started going to playcentre twice a week where he learns through creative play. he learns interaction and social skills; he plays in an environment designed for children to learn. so far he's learned the taste of colours, the textural qualities of water, the vibrations of sound...
from the grown up perspecitive we learn that we are not alone. that in fact there are thousands and millions of families going through very similar experiences. we learn that all our toddlers like to climb, poke the cat, throw their food. it's all part of exploring, of development, of growing from a baby into a toddler to a child. we learn how to cope & how to best guide our children's behaviour by teaching them skills that match their age.
playcentre is a parent led co-operative. there are always at least 2 qualified teachers at every play session. children under 2 must be accompanied by a parent or guardian. calix goes twice a week for 3 hours. one session, a 'babies can play' is peopled by folk the same age and height as calix. the other session is 'normal' - children ranging in age from 6 months until just before school age.
the babies can play sessions are quiet and structured. we sing, we dance, we paint and we play. we discuss developing positive relationships between children and caregivers. all the babies leave exhausted.
the normal sessions are comparitively quite intense. no apparent structure, lots of noise and children of all ages. i was a little overwhelmed, especially when a big boy almost immediately came and pulled calix' hair. but c wasn't fased. he looked at him as if to say -now, why would he do that? it didn't take long until calix was at the centre of the game, getting his short self in amongst the action - where he wanted to be.
so my baby is no longer a baby. he's a toddler, fast becoming a boy. he's a happy, well adjusted wee boy who is independant and brave beyond his stature. despite being a little short for his weight, he's content. and he's learning!
points of interest include dogs (hmmm hmmm) cats ( ca - maow) chocolate and girls. he can say mama and papa and ganda (grandad) and has quite an extensive lexicon of his own.
bless him, he makes us very proud!
xx
mama b
10.6.09
the things i like about winter
the things i like about winter:
have you ever not known what an acorn is?
it's not nearly enought to name it an acorn, un gland, because what does this mean?
so we set aside the leaf tossing for a couple of minutes while i explained the significance of the acorn, why it is, its potential. calix regarded my face with seriousness, he listened to every word. then we got back to leaf tumbling because really, that's what it's all about. sometimes you can be too busy pondering the life of an oak and meanwhile all the good leaves have blown away.
xx
mama b
(still learning!)
- crunchy white grass
- leaf piles
- frozen puddles
- snowy white distant mountains
- mother nature's bounties: tangerines, feijoas, tamarillos, apples...
- soup that always gets better towards the end of the week
- wearing big boots for crunching said grass/kicking up leaf piles/cracking icepuddles
have you ever not known what an acorn is?
it's not nearly enought to name it an acorn, un gland, because what does this mean?
so we set aside the leaf tossing for a couple of minutes while i explained the significance of the acorn, why it is, its potential. calix regarded my face with seriousness, he listened to every word. then we got back to leaf tumbling because really, that's what it's all about. sometimes you can be too busy pondering the life of an oak and meanwhile all the good leaves have blown away.
xx
mama b
(still learning!)
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