a beautiful mess

We had endless days of sunshine in April, and I spent most of my extra time in the garden.  Digging new ground takes quite a bit of work.  With only a shovel and a hoe it is slow, back-breaking work.  Square meter by square meter.

We removed the grass and uncovered rusty nails the size of a baby's arm, tin foil, old plastic pots, and stonework.  We pulled up nettle roots and an army of cockchafer grubs.  We dug up kitchenware, half-burnt logs, and the remains of a forgotten compost heap.  We watered the soil with our sweat by day, and discovered our bodies awash with a multitude of harvest mite and midge bites by night.

We also cleaned the greenhouse, overrun with moss and algae from years of disuse.   Without an outside tap, this meant lugging bowl after bowl of hot water and scrub brushes from the kitchen sink down the hill to where our greenhouse rests near the back garden.  Once the sun could shine through the streaked glass, we started on the soil.  We discovered that soil that hasn't seen rain for several years actually repels water.

Tucked around the side of the greenhouse we found a large rain barrel.  It was full to the brim with a thick layer of slime on top and smelled strongly of algae and something I couldn't put my finger on.   Next to the barrel was a coiled up hose, and we used it to siphon some of the water out.  The pungent smell only intensified, so we tipped the barrel over and let its contents run down into the small apple orchard.  In the bottom of the barrel remained the carcass of a large rat.  What wasn't already decomposed was still bloated.

We lugged more water from the kitchen faucet.  More buckets than we could count.  We dug in large amounts of compost, and still the rising dust choked my lungs.  It wasn't perfect, but we planted.  Slowly at first.  A few purchased starts, some seeds.  We cleaned off the potting table and began in earnest, sorting seeds, checking the calendar for optimal planting days, filling our pots, watering, and waiting.  Slowly, ever slowly, things started to grow-- both things we planted and seeds that had been waiting in that soil for years.

And naturally, we weeded, both inside and out.  We pulled out dandelions and couch grass, horsetail and bindweed.  And then we pulled out an inordinate number of weeds we could not name.  The more we weeded, the more weeds seemed to grow.  Gardening is like that.  Initial effort leads to the need for continued effort.  It is never finished.  That's not the nature of gardening.

But after weeks of steady work, we have something to show for the effort.  We have a garden teaming with both vegetable plants and weeds.  Though the forces of nature are forever trying to enclose itself back upon our work, we now have spinach, salad greens and arugula ready for harvesting.

Despite the fact that it was a heck of a lot of work, it still doesn't look like much.  I could get down and capture the magnificence of individual plants, particles of soil where the weeds have been cleverly pinched out.  I could find the right angle and photoshop around the edges so you can't see the dying cucumbers or the teeming piles of rubbish in the neighbor's yard.  I could show you the overflowing colander of freshly washed spinach leaves, the bright arugula pesto, or the delicate ornamental salad arranged on our best plate with just a trickle of mustard-laced balsamic and fresh mint.

As bloggers, we do that all the time.  We aim to inspire through minutiae, through cleverly focused shots of our food, our children, our clothes, and yes, even our gardens.  Even though the big picture tells a similar story, we can't see it.  When we pull back our focus, the line between extraordinary and ordinary gets blurred, and suddenly we are drowning in the mundane everydayness of it all.  We are small.  Our accomplishments are dwarfed by the lens, so that we appear puny in our normalcy, by the realness of it all.  And we are not anything, if not extraordinary.

I just don't have the energy lately to appear extraordinary, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

With the lens pulled back, this is my garden.

As you can see, it's far from perfect.  It's actually somewhat of a mess.  It's a beautiful mess, though.  A mess with a history, wrought by countless hours of sweat and tears.  A mess with promise, possibility, and potential.

Oh, how it reminds me of homeschooling.

What is it?

While he hasn't caught any more birds, there is an obvious downside to covering our cat in bells.  His hunting skills have been demoted to catching things that hardly move at all.

Today he sauntered in and dropped this strange thing at my feet.  I had never seen anything like it before.  Apparently, neither had he; the look on his face was priceless.


What is it mom?  Why does my tongue feel so funny?

After he dropped it, he shook his head from side to side and made the most awful faces I have ever seen a cat make.  If he could have spit, I'm sure he would have.  I didn't know whether he just got his mouth pricked by the hairs or if the thing had secreted poisonous juices, but I promptly examined his catch and set out to do a bit of sleuthing just in case.

It's a Sycamore moth caterpillar (Acronicta aceris).   Not poisonous.  But it sure is fun to look at.  The kids think so, too.

The letter "P" and the number 15

Today's post is brought to you by the letter "P" and the number 15.

I didn't quite tell the entire story about our "first day of school" ceremony.  From my post the other day it sounded really magical and amazing, didn't it?  It was all that, I assure you, but real life is never all sweetness and rainbows.

The whole story is something quite different.  Somewhere between the sweetness and the rainbow we had a bit of chaos.  We went directly from singing to shrill screaming, crying, and panicked voices.  There was a rush of adrenaline, the scattering of children, and the sucking in of breath.

Sounds pretty curious, doesn't it?

It was all the cat's fault.  Remember how he was bringing frogs into the house?  This past weekend he figured out how to catch birds, and he went a bit crazy.  Three birds in two days.  On Sunday he brought a baby wood pigeon to the back door and left it in a pool of its own liquid.  Not nice.  Later that afternoon he snared a European robin.  We were not happy with him, but not surprised either when he darted through the middle of our rainbow ceremony with a juvenile wood pigeon in his clutches.

Darn cat.  Sunburst ran after him screaming at the top of her lungs and waving her arms wildly.  The other two children followed suit.  And somehow they managed to separate both bird and cat, and Sunburst hauled the cat off to lock him in the house.

The poor bird! The cat managed to rip out all of its tail feathers and a good portion of its flight feathers.  The good news is that it was alive and it could walk.  We watched it hobble off and hide under the evergreen, surely trying to recover from the shock of almost being eaten by a ferocious beast.  We gave it some space and returned to our ceremony, a rainbow after the storm.  When we were finished, the bird was gone.

We looked and looked, but couldn't find it.  We hoped it was safe-- what else could we do?  We went inside and carried on with our day, keeping both cats locked inside for good measure.  We looked again throughout the day, but since there was no sign of the pigeon, we attached several large Christmas bells to the cats' collars and let them back outside.

With giant bells, the cats are absolutely pathetic.  The entire neighborhood can hear them coming.  They can barely manage to catch bugs, let alone birds.  That is until yesterday, when our male cat finally found the one bird he could catch-- the one he already rendered flightless.  He darted by the kids with the same wood pigeon as before in his mouth.  This time we cornered the bird and caged it.   I read that it takes anywhere from three to six weeks to regrow tail feathers, maybe even longer.  If the bird lives that long, then hooray.  I'm skeptical, but I'm not sure if we have any other options.  At least it's eating.  For now.

So the letter P is for.... Pigeon.  Of course it is.  Oddly, the first two letters Kitty Bill drew this week were W and P.  Wood Pigeon?!  Talk about a weird coincidence.

The other strange coincidence is that Einstein and I are celebrating our fifteenth wedding anniversary this week.  Fifteen years!  And it all started with a pigeon-- more specifically, a rock pigeon.  We were sitting at an outdoor cafe, completely blind to each other's existence, when a friendly pigeon hopped up on Einstein's table and stole the straw from his iced coffee.  He sat there playing tug-o-war with this pigeon, and I found the entire thing hilarious.  He heard my laughter and turned, smiling at me, and we were instantly smitten.

We actually celebrate Pigeon Day every year, and it falls during our wedding anniversary week.  Only this year we have an actual pigeon.  It's a little worse for wear, but it's still a pigeon.  As you can see, we have no choice but to try to save it.

After fifteen years of marriage, Einstein and I look a little worse for wear, too.  No marriage is perfect, but most of the time it feels pretty close to that.  Like pigeons, who mate for life, we're in it for the long haul.  Until we're bald and flightless... and then some.

So the letter "P" and the number 15... and I suppose "W" deserves some credit, too.  Wedding anniversary.  Wacky week.  And when the post is delivered in the morning, I'm sure I'll have to answer the question, "Why on earth is there a pigeon in your foyer?"

Today's frog

It is turning into Wild Kingdom around here.

This big guy (or gal?) decided to come to breakfast this morning.  What a surprise to find a frog hopping around under the dining room table!  To our dismay, he did not ask to sit in our chair and eat out of our golden dish.  He didn't want to sleep in our beds, either.

We stared wide-eyed in bewilderment as he crossed the length of the room, and then Sunburst jumped up and grabbed him.  He was cold and clammy.  I expected that he'd struggle and jump out of her hands, but he just sat there.  Complacent.  As if he had done all this before.

However, the look on Sunburst's face assured me that she had never held a frog before.  She wrinkled up her nose waiting for me to grab the camera.  Both Moonshine and Kitty Bill refused to touch him.  There was no kissing, no confessions of unkept froggy promises.

Unless you're royalty, frogs don't just hop into your house by themselves.  Someone brought this frog in for some fun and games.  But who?

Oh yeah.

Morning owl

Shortly after ten this morning we heard a terrible racket coming from the garden.  Sunburst ran outside to investigate. She darted back in to grab the camera and zoomed back outside before I knew what was happening.

She had found a tawny owl perched in the evergreen.  So much for being nocturnal.  She watched it stretch its wings and turn to look at her with wide eyes before taking flight.  Her guess is that it was having a little nap and the awful sound (wood pigeons fighting with the squirrels) woke it up.

Who knows for sure, but wow!  A tawny owl in the garden?  Really?!

Amazing.

Out and about

 Our car finally came back from the shop-- it had been there an entire month getting primped up with flashing lights and other gizmos so it would pass British car inspections.  I cannot even put into words how happy we were to see our car again.  To celebrate, after a desperate trip to the grocery store, we took the weekend and went exploring.  It was so nice to get out again!

On Saturday, we went downtown.  We live on the edge of a fairly large town, but for some reason, we still hadn't been to see what it was all about.  Probably too busy fighting mold and trying to keep warm.  Since Moonshine is in the midst of a local geography lesson, we decided it was time.  It turns out there was much to see.  So much, in fact, that we didn't quite see it all.

Our city, like every other city in England, is ancient.  It dates back to the bronze age.  It has its share of preserved medieval buildings, including a few gates left from the old city wall.

 

 

We got a bit distracted by a huge museum downtown.  We wandered inside just for a minute, and an hour passed.  I didn't take many pictures, as my camera is eating batteries like candy lately, but it was filled with all kinds of memorabilia through the ages.  Kitty Bill was a bit taken with all the cars on display.  Sunburst and Moonshine loved the part where everything was decorated like you were transported back in time-- old buildings and shops, mannequins in period clothing, horses and carts, bicycles... The lights were dimmed so that everything looked somewhat real.

 
There was a part with an air raid siren, and Kitty Bill and I got a bit spooked out, but luckily it was over fairly quickly.  And there wasn't too much to have to explain to the younger kids about it.  It could have been much worse.

On Sunday we went for a drive to see some houses for rent.  We're actively looking for a place that suits us better.  We didn't find it, but we did come across seemingly endless fields full of Rapsblume, or canola, as it's called in the US.  I don't know what they call it here yet, but I have to tell you, it's my absolute favorite flower.

I unwittingly forgot to bring my camera along on this walk, so you'll just have to take my word for it when I tell you that it was an absolutely amazing sight to behold.  It was more lovely than anything I have yet to see in England.

We had fields full of Raps near where we lived in Switzerland, and they were a familiar sight as we drove all across Germany a few years ago.  They smell like fresh beeswax, and they're so neon yellow that they truly glow.  It's impossible to not feel happy next to a field full of them, and while we were easily reminded of them and transported back to Switzerland for a few minutes, this was clearly better.  Because it wasn't just one or two fields.  When we climbed to the rise above the field, we could see them glowing in the distance.  The Rapsblume spread around us far and wide, it was like being suddenly dropped on the set of the Wizard of Oz, where the Raps were both the yellow brick road and the poppy field all rolled into one.

If we get a bit of sun next weekend, we're surely going back.  This time I won't forget my camera.

Meanwhile, Kitty Bill and I collected some feathers and a few Raps that we found on the footpath. Bonus points if anyone can tell me what bird the feathers on the left came from.

Snails

Moonshine and I have been working on some human and animal studies this month.  Right now we're having fun with snails... it took us quite a bit of poking around to find some that the birds hadn't already eaten in our garden.  Every morning there is a scattering of broken shells all over the place.  The birds must be having quite an early morning feast.  If I were a snail, I would be hiding, too!

One thing I could thank the birds for was that they made it quite easy to examine the inner spiral of the shells.  So perfect!  They reminded us of a spiral ceiling we saw in Barcelona this past summer.

After digging around a bit in the garden, we unearthed a couple of live snails to investigate.  Then we made good with some empty shells and modeling beeswax to make some snails for the nature table.  Moonshine was so pleased with how they came out -- a mama and a baby!  So precious together!

Moonshine was hungering for some lovely stories this week, so we read the snail stories included in Jacob Streit's Animal Stories.  I've been looking for a copy of this in English for years, and I finally found one a couple of months ago.  It would have been perfect for Grade 2, but we're happy to have it at all.  I think it's just as applicable to the Grade 4 study anyway.  Perhaps I chanced upon our copy at the right time after all.

Just by luck I came across an interesting BBC video about the sounds tiny insects make, including snails.  Fascinating stuff!

Moonshine and I have also been talking about crafting some animals for our study.  I found the cutest pattern for crocheted snails here.  At first glance it looks to be a bit complex for my mediocre crocheting skills, so we may just end up making it up.  I'm thinking it will be fun to try.

But not this week.  This week I have undertaken a HUGE project which is eating up all of my extra bits of time.  Not that I have many extra bits, but you know what I mean.  Hopefully, I'll be able to show you that huge undertaking tomorrow.

Hungering for Spring

We've been trying to adapt to the weather changes in our new environment.  It's not always easy.  Each time we move to a new site on the globe we find ourselves in a strange predicament.  Getting used to a new climate takes time.  A whole year in fact!  I find that once we make it through a complete cycle of the seasons, I can better predict what to expect.

No one expected the harsh, icy blast that came in early February for Candlemas.  Back on the farm in Switzerland we hear it got down to -23 C / -9 F.  It wasn't quite so bad here, but it was cold enough.  The kids were thrilled with the snowfall, but I ended up with chilblains on my chilblains.  My feet haven't been warm since October, and I found myself hungering for Spring much more than usual.

Here are the kids enjoying the February snowfall:

 

The snow has since melted, but despite the continual grey skies, spring appears to be coming.  Here are some signs of spring that have been popping up in our garden since the end of February.  What a difference a few weeks make!

 

 

 

Long weekend

We had another three day weekend thanks to Pentecost. After growing up in the states with separation of church and state, these religious holidays always catch us by surprise. Inevitably we forget to do our grocery shopping, and with everything closed down, well... it gets kind of interesting.

My eyes started feeling well enough Sunday afternoon for a little hike in the forest. We went with some friends, and though I have no idea where we ended up, it was amazing. The trail moved upwards between high stone cliffs that had been etched by water probably thousands of years ago. There were little caves at our sides and a small rivulet running under our feet. Someone had meticulously built wooden bridges and staircases leading up over this whole expanse. My pictures don't quite do it justice, but it was really breath-taking.








At the first summit we reached a prairie full of families playing frisbee, sunbathing, and barbecuing. There was even a playground for the kids. Just five minutes more hiking led us to another summit-- a restaurant and a pasture with camels! That's right-- camels in Switzerland! How funny is that!?!





Even funnier, we were told that the Wanderweg, or the trail, that leads into the next village goes through this camel pasture. So naturally we decided to walk on this trail to get a better look at the camels. There was a mama and a baby, so just as naturally this turned out to not be the best idea. The mama chased us and growled. I didn't know camels could growl, but this one did. It was a very throaty kind of sound, and the message was very clear: Stay the heck away from my baby! Still, it was interesting.

On Monday my eyes seemed almost back to normal. I spent a little bit of time in the garden putting yummy starts in, thanks to our gardener friends, and Sunburst managed to scrub the rat cage for the first time by herself. It took her All. Day. Long. Have I mentioned before that she's equal parts choleric and sanguine? She dives head first into a project and then gets completely distracted... I had to remind her what her focus was when I found her hours later walking the rats under our big shade tree, complete with harnesses she had fashioned out of knitting yarn.





I realize these pictures are a tad blurry, but I swear it's not my eyes. Have you ever tried to take a picture of a running rat? I'm sure a few of you have!

I'm off to get my eyes checked again tonight... hopefully all will go well. The pharmacist I spoke with on Saturday thinks that I was having an abnormal reaction to the dilation drops, so I don't think I'll be having those again. Today I can see just as well as before my first exam, and neither the sunlight nor the computer screen seem to be much of an issue for me. You can imagine how much I'm rejoicing!

Thanks again for all your kind words over the last week. You mamas are the best!

Way down here...

It was a quiet week here. A blah week. My Spring allergies are in full force, and I've had all the get-up and go of a large stone. So it seems kind of fitting that we spent most of it not soaring with the birds, but cruising the forest floor. What delights we discovered there!






Growing up in the desert, I was mesmerized by the magical beauty of the mosses. My enthusiasm for each little leaf paled in comparison to the kids delight when they discovered this moss-covered stump. They were sure this was the exact place where the fairies get married-- services down below and the dance hall reception on top. I can almost picture it.




While we were at it, we explored the lichens, too. They were hard to miss.








This little guy was hard to miss, too. He politely waited for me to snap a picture before he hopped out of sight.




Since we're in the midst of our botany studies, I asked Sunburst to collect a few specimens and put together a moss garden. It's just an old baking dish we've re-purposed with soil, moss, and other items--- bark, rocks, etc. I think it turned out pretty nice...





Sunburst has been poring over it with a magnifying glass. There's so much more to see when you have adequate lighting... there's a whole 'nother world in there! Such fun!!