currently obsessed with anything he can pull- string, scarves, cords- calix was recently sporting two little bruises just below his eyebrow representing the positive and negative prongs from the vacuum-cleaner's plug. a day later he added another bruise to the collection by diving and rolling down the concrete steps. after watching his best buddy tip himself out of his high-chair in the company of his mama and i (he bumped his head and cut his lip with his teeth) i asked myself: do i take care of my son? do i really take good care?
he's a wee boy. and boys, apparently, are prone to climbing, jumping, banging and anything else they can come up with to test the limits of themselves, their environments and their mamas.
[he's just come into the room, towing a length of speaker cable, tried climbing a set of tin trunks which proved too difficult and so now he's settled on the task of dismantling the printer or making an overseas call using the fax machine...]
we do the best we can. that's all we can do; we try and gently reinforce 'that's not for you' while we explain why not- saving the big 'NO' for when it's really necessary. but that's all we can do.
that and kiss better the lumps, bumps, bruises and grazes.
the world is filled with educational toys: bright colourful (mostly plastic) things that have been designed by experts to help our children become better, more intelligent adults. but calix, given the choice, will take the real hammer, or the pot plant, or press the buttons on the stereo instead of the baby computer. what ever the choice, his is, invariably, the most inappropriate.
as i recall, i think i was the same (still am?).
ok, best i be off as he's just managed to haul a set of plugs out of the 'childproof corner'.
is it too early for wine yet?
xx
mama b
(eyes in the back of her head!)
30.3.09
26.3.09
bottling
i blame the 60s.
while chairman mao was busy revolutionising culture, women worldwide were liberating themselves- burning bras (so the story goes) left and right. once emancipated from their womanly rolls of cooking and cleaning and catering to their families they were free to join workforces and earn money as freely as their fellow men. mao, seeing the rise in potential capital from the two salary families took advantage of our newfound equality to turn us from creators into consumers.
thus ends the very short 'modern history of everything' lesson from me.
actually, it is relevant.
i've just last night finished my second lesson in a two part series of bottling and preserving classes. the lessons were run by a man. an englishman with a welsh name. the class was filled with middle aged ladies (who, amongst other things, quite probably were regretting buring their bras). the teacher, rhys, also ran classes on sustainability and although this subject would logically be a part of those lessons it was not.
so my grey haired team and i chopped and measured. we poured and boiled, sterilised and gossipped and, whilst supervised, were taught how to preserve food grown in our gardens (or those of our neighbours) to give to our families in the colder months.
me, capitalising on the generosity of my neighbour and her heavily laden peach tree, and my love of pickles, i created some (spicy) peach chutney.
so what did i really learn? of course, i learnt the importance of sterilising my bottles. i learnt how to avoid buring myself while doing this. i learnt the names and faces of a few people who live within my city (but not within my community); we also exchanged recipes (but not phone numbers). however, within my community, i have made the classic gardener's exchange- an excess in peaches for a jar of chutney.
these lessons that in the 50s would have been given to us by our mothers, in the home. in our eagerness to be equal we forgot something. we were busy learning new skills previously only known to men.
since calix was born i've traipsed all over the city searching the information and the skills to use within the new home i was creating, how to sew, how to knit, how to bottle and preserve. hopefully he'll be interested and i'll be able to teach him, at home. in the spirit of new feminism i'll teach my son how to be a home-maker.
xx
mama b
while chairman mao was busy revolutionising culture, women worldwide were liberating themselves- burning bras (so the story goes) left and right. once emancipated from their womanly rolls of cooking and cleaning and catering to their families they were free to join workforces and earn money as freely as their fellow men. mao, seeing the rise in potential capital from the two salary families took advantage of our newfound equality to turn us from creators into consumers.
thus ends the very short 'modern history of everything' lesson from me.
actually, it is relevant.
i've just last night finished my second lesson in a two part series of bottling and preserving classes. the lessons were run by a man. an englishman with a welsh name. the class was filled with middle aged ladies (who, amongst other things, quite probably were regretting buring their bras). the teacher, rhys, also ran classes on sustainability and although this subject would logically be a part of those lessons it was not.
so my grey haired team and i chopped and measured. we poured and boiled, sterilised and gossipped and, whilst supervised, were taught how to preserve food grown in our gardens (or those of our neighbours) to give to our families in the colder months.
me, capitalising on the generosity of my neighbour and her heavily laden peach tree, and my love of pickles, i created some (spicy) peach chutney.
so what did i really learn? of course, i learnt the importance of sterilising my bottles. i learnt how to avoid buring myself while doing this. i learnt the names and faces of a few people who live within my city (but not within my community); we also exchanged recipes (but not phone numbers). however, within my community, i have made the classic gardener's exchange- an excess in peaches for a jar of chutney.
these lessons that in the 50s would have been given to us by our mothers, in the home. in our eagerness to be equal we forgot something. we were busy learning new skills previously only known to men.
since calix was born i've traipsed all over the city searching the information and the skills to use within the new home i was creating, how to sew, how to knit, how to bottle and preserve. hopefully he'll be interested and i'll be able to teach him, at home. in the spirit of new feminism i'll teach my son how to be a home-maker.
xx
mama b
24.3.09
the man and his machine
hats off and raise your glass to the man who worked v hard in restoring the heart rimu floor to its former glory. with a machine that created a violent storm of dust and noise he walked up and down, up and down, patiently peeling back the layers to reveal the beautiful timber beneath.
and the months of work, of dreaming, of demolition, of sweat, blisters and tears came to this: the creation of a new heart for our home.
tis v difficult to photograph, to capture the colours correctly, to reveal the smell and the warmth... the colour (of the walls shown) is called summer green- a crisp, refreshing bluegreen. the facing wall is aubergine. deep, dramatic, purple (that in some lights is chocolate).
anyway, you're just going to have to come and see for yourself!
xx
mama b
they call it an indian summer; when the sun loiters, its heat lingering, you'd be forgiven for in fact believing it was still summer. until you spot a deciduous tree looking all forlorn. and then you noticed that the sun was buggering off early. the mornings are crisp (but mostly i'm still in bed so this is only a rumour) but once the sun clears the roof tops it's balmy, beach going weather. but better. cos the light is subdued- not the burn you to a crisp intensity of midsummer, but a somewhat gentler, more refined light. filtered.
but we're still so busy!
i said i'd be in the garden by autumn. well, i went out and mowed the cursed lawn, again, today. but that's not what i mean by being in the garden. i dug a hole the day before and that just depressed me.
when we moved in i noticed a bunch of yellow buttercups, ranunculus repens, growing in a patch down the bottom of the garden. and it was, down the bottom. it made sense that they would be there. because these golden treasures like moisture, they tend to hang about where it's wet. my neighbour said- when it's high tide in the winter your garden gets a bit inundated... so i thought, i'll dig me a hole and make a soakaway pit. by alleviating compaction you can sometimes do away with problem wet areas: dig yourself a hole (actually, not just talking about potentially offensive topics, for a change!) usually to at least 1.5m (taking care to support the sides once you get beyond 1.2m) and then put some rocks, rubble and other bits in there. these larger bits tend to create greater spaces between particles and therefore allow water to drain away more freely...
unless you live between a river and the deep blue sea.
i dug 60cm down and got water. i dug another 20 cm and the hole began to fill up to my ankles. i've taken to visiting my hole at various times of the day to see what happens. like at high tide, for example. or low tide.
not a lot.
so, i can still fill my hole up with various rocks and other bits of debris. but really, i need to just come to terms with my watery garden. plant more trees (they'll drink the water & thus lessen the soil's need to percolate so much water). redirect water that may potentially drain there (like capturing the water off the roof before it runs to the bottom of the garden). or make a water feature.
but with a stunt baby who has discovered he is a fish, making a water feature at the bottom of my garden is just plain asking for trouble.
on the rest of the diy front, we've had a bit of a rest. more like resting on laurels. other than hole digging (and mowing lawns and cleaning up after chickens and baking and washing and being a mama) i haven't really done a lot these last coupla days. and i feel awfully naughty.
cos we've still got so much to do!
putting some photos on is one of them!
(usual story)
xx
mama b
but we're still so busy!
i said i'd be in the garden by autumn. well, i went out and mowed the cursed lawn, again, today. but that's not what i mean by being in the garden. i dug a hole the day before and that just depressed me.
when we moved in i noticed a bunch of yellow buttercups, ranunculus repens, growing in a patch down the bottom of the garden. and it was, down the bottom. it made sense that they would be there. because these golden treasures like moisture, they tend to hang about where it's wet. my neighbour said- when it's high tide in the winter your garden gets a bit inundated... so i thought, i'll dig me a hole and make a soakaway pit. by alleviating compaction you can sometimes do away with problem wet areas: dig yourself a hole (actually, not just talking about potentially offensive topics, for a change!) usually to at least 1.5m (taking care to support the sides once you get beyond 1.2m) and then put some rocks, rubble and other bits in there. these larger bits tend to create greater spaces between particles and therefore allow water to drain away more freely...
unless you live between a river and the deep blue sea.
i dug 60cm down and got water. i dug another 20 cm and the hole began to fill up to my ankles. i've taken to visiting my hole at various times of the day to see what happens. like at high tide, for example. or low tide.
not a lot.
so, i can still fill my hole up with various rocks and other bits of debris. but really, i need to just come to terms with my watery garden. plant more trees (they'll drink the water & thus lessen the soil's need to percolate so much water). redirect water that may potentially drain there (like capturing the water off the roof before it runs to the bottom of the garden). or make a water feature.
but with a stunt baby who has discovered he is a fish, making a water feature at the bottom of my garden is just plain asking for trouble.
on the rest of the diy front, we've had a bit of a rest. more like resting on laurels. other than hole digging (and mowing lawns and cleaning up after chickens and baking and washing and being a mama) i haven't really done a lot these last coupla days. and i feel awfully naughty.
cos we've still got so much to do!
putting some photos on is one of them!
(usual story)
xx
mama b
20.3.09
run out
we're within $150 of the budget's end.
you know what this means?
well, i'm not sure either. other than the end maybe isn't so nigh. the important things have been done; kitchen in, insulation & heating done. it just means that we've got to narrow down on the pretty. and the funds for landscaping, well we'll have to search the freecycle pages for our bricks and continue hunting in the hedgerows for our plants. which is ok. cos we were fancying a garden that evolved naturally. but for the finishing details- the 'pretty'- i guess we'll have to wait a bit for them.
but that's not too bad- good things come to those who wait!
i know, i know. i promise to put photos on- next time i'll do a special.
xx
mama b
you know what this means?
well, i'm not sure either. other than the end maybe isn't so nigh. the important things have been done; kitchen in, insulation & heating done. it just means that we've got to narrow down on the pretty. and the funds for landscaping, well we'll have to search the freecycle pages for our bricks and continue hunting in the hedgerows for our plants. which is ok. cos we were fancying a garden that evolved naturally. but for the finishing details- the 'pretty'- i guess we'll have to wait a bit for them.
but that's not too bad- good things come to those who wait!
i know, i know. i promise to put photos on- next time i'll do a special.
xx
mama b
last of the summer & wine
well, when we begun we said 'we better have it finished before the end of summer.'
today, this night, being the eve of the summer's end, we ate our first meal prepared from our new kitchen; in the garden.
my kitchen 'triangle' (you know the one- the one that all designers refer to- ergonomics and all that) previously consisted of: a (former) laundry door performing as a kitchen bench in the lounge, the fridge in the office and the sink in the laundry (which is in the bathroom)...
this evening, even though i still had to march small roman miles in search of the ingredients, housed in other parts of our home, my seamless kitchen gave me everything i needed without the need to run a sub4 minute mile.
we ate sweet roasted veges in the garden
and tomorrow, while papa works, we're going to celebrate the end of summer within the community at the family fishing day- where me and c will practice our first day fishing on old rods- that of my grandad's, calix' great-grandad.
xx
mama b
(gone fishin')
today, this night, being the eve of the summer's end, we ate our first meal prepared from our new kitchen; in the garden.
my kitchen 'triangle' (you know the one- the one that all designers refer to- ergonomics and all that) previously consisted of: a (former) laundry door performing as a kitchen bench in the lounge, the fridge in the office and the sink in the laundry (which is in the bathroom)...
this evening, even though i still had to march small roman miles in search of the ingredients, housed in other parts of our home, my seamless kitchen gave me everything i needed without the need to run a sub4 minute mile.
we ate sweet roasted veges in the garden
and tomorrow, while papa works, we're going to celebrate the end of summer within the community at the family fishing day- where me and c will practice our first day fishing on old rods- that of my grandad's, calix' great-grandad.
xx
mama b
(gone fishin')
milk!
calix has taken to the bottle like a duck to water. which is nice, cos i was really rather caught up about it. of course, like any breastfeeding mother, i spent a lot of my time wondering whether or not he was getting enough. but with every weigh-in with the local child-health nurse i was reassured that he was following his growth curve and therefore 'getting enough'.
no formula for this baby.
but now, firmly on 2 feet, he is no longer a baby. he is a toddler. and he no longer needs breast milk- he loves his breakfast/lunch/dinner and the boob was just a comfort. to us both.
on his first birthday he was introduced, via a bottle, to cow's milk. it wasn't terribly successful. but with a little perserverance, from both papa and mama, he learned to love the bottle and the grown-up independance that came along with it.
now that he is fully 'weened' he is more than happy to have a bottle of milk alongside me while i have my coffee.
me, i've been gently trying to catch up on caffeine (etc) that i've missed out on on the last year and a half... don't get me wrong, i've not gone without. it's just i've done everything in moderation.
now, somewhat the naughty mama, my days are filled with umpteen cups of coffee and almost as many glasses of wine.
v naughty. indeed.
xx
mama b
(not even wobbly)
no formula for this baby.
but now, firmly on 2 feet, he is no longer a baby. he is a toddler. and he no longer needs breast milk- he loves his breakfast/lunch/dinner and the boob was just a comfort. to us both.
on his first birthday he was introduced, via a bottle, to cow's milk. it wasn't terribly successful. but with a little perserverance, from both papa and mama, he learned to love the bottle and the grown-up independance that came along with it.
now that he is fully 'weened' he is more than happy to have a bottle of milk alongside me while i have my coffee.
me, i've been gently trying to catch up on caffeine (etc) that i've missed out on on the last year and a half... don't get me wrong, i've not gone without. it's just i've done everything in moderation.
now, somewhat the naughty mama, my days are filled with umpteen cups of coffee and almost as many glasses of wine.
v naughty. indeed.
xx
mama b
(not even wobbly)
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