Where Have You Been?

Apologies, gentle reader, for the lack of posts. I have no excuse except that things were busy and I didn't have much to say. I still don't have anything approaching a theme, but I can ramble with the best of them.

I don't spend a lot of time outdoors right now, because cold air hurts. I braved a walk to the bottom of the front pasture with John last evening, though, and the colors were amazing. I had just been looking at a Better Homes & Garden magazine and studying the palettes they used in a room I liked. Walking outside was like walking into the biggest, most color-inspired, coordinated, complementary room ever created anywhere. The sky was grey blue, the snow was white, the grasses in the fields were purple and gold, and the branches of the bare trees were black. But to say they were blue, purple and gold is not saying enough. The saturation of the colors, the way they melted into one another, or stood out in relief--it was so beautiful as to make me cry. Winter is cold and I prefer the other three seasons, but I can't deny its beauty. And living out here lets me see the beauty of winter more clearly.

These are pictures of another winter moment--when the trees were covered with ice one morning last week (taken from inside the front windows--no fingers were frozen in the making of these images):

Grandgirl Maria spent the weekend with us and she and I bundled up and took a walk up to the cabin just to get out a bit. The windchill was shocking. We quickly turned around and headed back to the main house where the fire was burning. "Oh, I can't wait till spring," I said. "And summer!" she added. And then, "It's freezing cold out here!" She had her hands tucked into her pockets and looked like a little pink gnome heading down the path.

We played princesses a lot. I had to hold two of them and make them be mean to the third, which she held. The mean step-sisters got to go to the ball and dance with the princes while Maria's victim stayed home and cleaned. At least we rotated out the princess who got the short end of stick. I tried to put in some "stand up for yourself" lessons in there, but she wasn't having it. If it was your turn to play the Cinderella role, then tough luck, sister.

She found my reading glasses and put them on. I said, "Oh, let me take your picture!" And here's what she did--she put her hand up. Like the smart girl in class.

LeRoy was in heaven with his playmate, Maria, here. He lets her pick him up and drag him around the whole house, over and over. And then he crashes nearby. Here he is on the new living room chair:

He is a handsome devil, I think.

And here is a detail of the new couch that goes with the new chair. It is heaven to sit on a couch again! And yes, Maria and I snuggled up and read books on it, just like I promised we would.

So, while it hasn't been a full-fledged funk, a bit of winter "Where am I?" "Who am I?" has settled over me like a fine dust. Here's hoping that you, reader, are making it through your own winter doldrums in the best way you know how.

Christmas is for Kids

I'm in the city, sorting through the photos from today's festivities and can't help but post a few.

Mario, looking straight into Peepaw's soul:

Maria, wearing her princess demeanor if not the clothes:

Jack, just as excited as Mario over the racing cars:

And Maria again, about fifteen minutes ago, on the couch "watching" Dora on the TV. She's spending the night with me at "the partment."

Happy Christmas!

Country Girl in the Making

One of our fondest hopes about this farm is that our grandchildren will like coming here. I know that that hope is loaded with psychological projection—we like the farm, so you’ll like it too! We had fun at our relative’s farms, so you’ll have fun at yours too!—but I like to think that our hope has to do with something bigger than ourselves and the satisfaction of our grandparental egos.

By now, lots of people are familiar with Richard Louv’s book, Last Child in the Woods, in which he coins the term “nature deficit disorder.” The book hit a nerve because he gave voice to something that everyone knows already, but couldn’t quite remember in the midst of our modern lives. We need to be near nature on a regular basis. Kids need to be in nature as part of their normal development. Preferably, they need to have unstructured play time in nature, time to make up games, sit in trees, build forts in the woods, explore rotten logs, discover weird bugs…all the things that used to happen more often, even in the suburbs, just twenty years ago.

Our grandkids get outside a lot, thanks to their intrepid mom, Mary, who likes to be on the move always. She plunks Maria and her little brother, Mario, into the stroller, into backpacks, into snugglies, and heads outside in all kinds of weather to the park, the pool, the playground. They are learning to be adventurous kids and now the farm gets to be part of their repertoire. I hope that as they get older, they are able to enjoy a passionate relationship with nature here. I hope that it lights a quiet fire inside them, a deep connection with and love for the Earth that stays with them into adulthood. And I hope that connection is a support for them as they grow and mature and wonder what it means to be a human being on this planet.

Maria, age three, spent the night with us this past weekend. She was recovering from a bout of strep throat, so she was lower-key than normal. It was the second time she spent the night with us at the farm, and this time she was more at ease and did not look at me every hour with a worried expression and ask, “Mommy?”

One of her favorite things to do is go across the road to our neighbor’s, the Bishops, and take the tour of their animals. That includes kittens, puppies, rabbits, ducks, a horse, chickens, and Maria’s personal favorite, newly hatched chicks. Whenever we return from the Bishop’s place, she always asks me, “Where are your horses?” And, “Where are your eggs?” Ah—all in good time, little one. Didn't you read my last blog entry about how much work this all is?

Why I don’t take my camera with me when we visit across the road, I don’t know, but here are some highlights from our place…

Cutting paper is always fun.

And here is a good one: Soon after she and I are lying down for bed after a no-nap day, Grandpa calls up the stairs, "Hey Maria, want to sit on a horse?" Our neighbor, Ernie stopped by with Casey, a retired barrel racer. Miss Maria, complete with bed-head hair was all for it, yes.

We love the tractor...

Till next time, little girl!