A Day of Sheer Calm

We went out to the Margaret Ann for the afternoon and evening to do some small fixes and tune the rigging. This means adjusting the steel cables that hold the mast and the foresails in place. We've been having some trouble getting things tight enough, as the cables are quite stretched out. Some of the adjustments will probably require taking the mast down and adjusting some things at the top.

We'll only have her in the water another week or so, and so we're not too worried about getting it all perfect right now. However, it's not good to have the rigging too loose, as sudden gusts of wind can smack the mast around and really wrench on the boat where the cables are attached.

It was dead calm. We took the dinghy this time, and the kids spent a good 5 hours puttering around the lake. It's a decent-sized critter, with a 2 HP outboard. We put Spazz in charge of navigation, and the four of them went out together.

It felt like a rite of passage to me. They always stayed in sight, but they went almost all the way across to the far shore. (Granted, our "lake" is really just a ravine full of water, not even as big as some rivers.) I watched them experiment with the excitement of being so independent, and at the same time, cling somewhat close. I saw the responsibility we've been trying to teach them actually get exercised.

We decided to let the sailboat be a motorboat for the evening, and took supper out on the water. It was like glass, and we just let her drift. The kids pulled up alongside, to parental cries of, "Oh, no! Pirates!" We bribed the raiders with sandwiches and juice boxes. Then we gave them a bag of chips and let 'em loose. They were very careful not to get any garbage in the lake.

Dave snoozed on one of the cockpit seats, while I watched the clear sky, the drift of the boat, and the children whizzing in a large circle around us. The fun was finished when Brat Boy decided he needed to go potty. It is hard spending half a day in and out of a dinghy when you're 5. Spazz poured it on when the girls started shrieking, "Oh, no, he's dribbling! We've gotta get back there fast!" This turned out to be hyperbole, for which the girls are infamous. However, it ended Dave's nap.

We came back ashore feeling very satisfied with the relaxation of the day. It really did feel like a day off.

Ship Log of the Margaret Ann Aug 26th

We were out on the lake for about 2 hours this afternoon. We sailed up the lake this time, where it was broader but shallower. There were a few times the depth alarm went off. However, the wind was easier to work with up there, because it wasn't gusting off the hills or blocked by patches of trees.

We were about to turn around when we saw a powerboat coming up behind us. We decided to wait till they'd gone past, but the boat headed toward us, slowing. We soon realized it was our friends from north of town. they had a camera with them, and took several pictures of Margaret Ann over the course of the afternoon.

We greatly enjoyed seeing the jaw-drop effect among some of the fishermen on shore as we sailed back past the launch. The boat generates a certain amount of excitement.

The kids had great fun riding on the bowsprit today. We had just the right wind direction to allow us to reach up and down the lake with almost no tacking needed, so they were able to perch right under the staysail without having to get out of the way every few minutes.

I had the pleasure of hauling and furling the sails today. I like having the chance to get to know the boat better.

We measured our time, and with a leisurely jib dropped here and a mainsail there, it took us about 25 minutes to furl and prepare to dock. We were not scrambling, by any means--the jib came down and we ran her sloop-rigged back towards the docks, saving us some hassle while trying to park and roller-furl the boom in the midst of all the fishing craft that were out today.

Introducing the Next Great Chef

The kids loved that TV cooking competition when it aired–Canada’s Next Great Chef contest. The participants were students and graduates from chef schools, seeking professional recognition in their field.

This evening, I cooked a "different" meal. It involved frozen vegetables–winter mix (broccoli and cauliflower). I used a pack of instant noodles–fettucine alfredo, with a mix of spinach noodles and a parmesan-flavoured sauce. I took a chicken breast and sauteed it with random amounts of salsa and taco sauce, plus a couple of pared apples. There would have been some asparagus spears, but they were done cooking early, and I kind of ate them while I was doing the chicken.

To make it more appealing, I said to the kids, "Let’s play Next Great Chef!" Three out of four said, "Yayyy!!!" The oldest sulked and muttered, and was banished from the kitchen.

We laid a bed of winter mix on a Corelle serving platter. We made a hollow in the middle where we placed the pasta. Then we used tongs to lift the chicken pieces from their mushy-apple-and-salsa sauce and arranged them in a sun pattern.

This sparked much creative imagination. "It looks like a sun." "It looks like a sundog!" "It’s spring, and there’s snow and grass, and the sun is coming out." "Mommy, what’s a sundog??"

We then took pictures of our bee-yoo-tee-full creation, amid admonishments not to ogle it too long, or it would be cold. The oldest walked through and muttered disgustedly, "That’s weird." He was consigned to wait to eat until everyone else had finished.

The girls were disappointed that we had to make it all ugly in order to scoop it onto our plates. However, they liked the taste of it very much. Score one for Mommy–much more successful than Monster Soup.

Ship Log of the Margaret Ann

We met at the launch as David came off the day shift, and set sail immediately. I had the tiller for a bit, but found my mate to be an incorrigible backseat driver, so I went below, informing him that he was welcome to drive. Supper was served on board, consisting of salami sandwiches. Snacks this time were apples and carrots, as I spent 5 hours cleaning out the boat on Tuesday.

Granted, some of that cleaning involved the nastiness of disinfecting the head area and mopping up the remnants of bilge water in the saloon area. However, nary a pretzel shall ever set foot on my ship again.

After supper, I took the tiller again, courtesy of a repentant Only Mate (calling him my First Mate will only spark another tiff over who is in fact the captain). The evening was calm and cool. There was almost no wind, and it was coming across the width of the lake, making steady sailing a little difficult. We found out some wonderful technical aspects about our boat. First, she can reach incredibly close into the wind with all sails up. Second, she really does find wind where there is none. We made our way towards the dam, struggling to find a good angle to the poor wind direction. But on the way back to the launch, she glided along in the tiny breeze, making her way about 30 degrees off the wind.

We brought warm jackets, and ended up thankful for them. Dave went and sat up in front of the mast, greatly enjoying the view and the feel of the boat from there. He helped each of the youngest three kids take a turn riding the bowsprit. They found that completely cool.

As I tacked back up the lake, I faced the occasional helpful comment from my less-experienced Only Mate, who was convinced we could round the point back to the launch with shorter tacks than I was inclined to take. I knew full well this wasn't true, but humoured him. The more tacks, the longer it would take to dock.

We loosened the sheets and let the boat drift in the middle of the lake, opposite the dock, as we practiced roller-furling the mainsail on the boom. The staysail is on a furler, a spring-loaded contraption that rolls the sail for us. The jib (second sail, directly in front of the mainsail) comes with no such luxuries.

Spazzerific sat at the tiller and attempted to keep the boat's nose into the wind while we furled the main. Having the jib up and the main essentially reefed resulted in a fair bit of lee helm, and the boat wanted to turn with the wind. This made Spazz a bit nervous, but he did fine.

With the sails furled and the keel raised, Dave started the outboard and took us in to the dock. We discovered that the keel was not fully raised when the boat grounded. However, this was not a major emergency, and was easily fixed.

Banana took the following photo of me standing on the foredeck as we prepared to dock. I love riding in to the dock Jack Sparrow-style.

Ship Log of the Margaret Ann

We launched the Margaret Ann around 9:30 this morning. It took us some time to step the mast, but was much easier than our dry run ashore yesterday, as all the grey Great Lakes sand had fallen out of its hollow core. Without the sand pouring out and jamming the bottom, fastening the front stay was a relative breeze.

We began by sailing with the mainsail only. When we raised the clubfoot jib, we quickly realized how much of a difference it made to the balance of the boat. No more fighting the helm. Dave insisted on trying to install the bimini overtop my head and in the midst of the rigging as I was attempting to pilot the boat, which resulted in a few territorial words being exchanged.

We allowed the kids to have snacks on board--Doritos and pretzels. Never again. The whole cabin was littered with them. The boat is just not big enough for that kind of mess to be even a bit bearable.

The kids decided that they loved sailing, until it began to rain; the wind died; and the boat threatened to drift aground in a shallows while Dave struggled to get the outboard going. However, they were able to shelter below while Dave and I got a soaking. The bimini provided some protection, but shed water right onto my seat so that I ended up wet from the waist down. I didn't care. It was too much fun.

In spite of thunder and lightning, Dave was determined to sail her back to the dock. It took a lot of convincing to talk him into putting it under motor power, and a few good cracks right overhead.

We went back to town and got permission to moor her at the launch, and also a padlock for the cabin. We were able to store rudder and outboard below and tie up over at the pilings, off both the docks and away from the beaten paths. This made us a bit nervous, leaving her there, but she'll be coming out for the winter next Tuesday.

I went through two changes of clothes (foolishly thinking the worst of the rain was over, when in fact it was yet to come) and spent the evening shivering under a blanket, but without the slightest discontent. There truly is nothing better than mucking about in a boat.

Spontaneous Bursts of Chess

We were out partying last night, and didn’t get in till midnight. (By partying, I mean roasting marshmallows and stargazing with a bunch of friends.) Today is what I call a “non-day”–everyone got up late and has accomplished very little, while the time just seems to glide by.

The kids have been watching parts of a favourite movie, Pride and Prejudice – the 5-hour-long, A & E version. Having finished with Mr. Darcy’s horrendous proposal and Lizzie’s rejection, they chose to turn to the chess board.

For some reason, the 5-year-old was playing against the 11-year-old. I have no idea if Brat Boy even knows how the pieces move. Spazz, of course, trounced him, and was revelling in his own ego rather than showing any concern over having his little brother in tears.

Spazz capped off his bad behaviour with, “Well, I expected him to play better than that.”

And with that, I was quite fed up. I threatened to sit him down and embarrass him thoroughly at a match if he didn’t smarten up, and asked him how he’d like it if I were to make him feel that way. He said he “probably” wouldn’t like it too much.

“A little more than probably,” I growled at him. “Sit down and work on endgame together.”

In practising their endgame, they are not to be playing against each other as such, but strategizing co-operatively. They dug out their Chess for Kids book. They chose a few pieces to work with, and started reading. Banana Brain is now flipping through the book, while the Littles are setting up pieces. The Spazz has sulked off to his room to read, which is the best place possible for him when he’s tired.

At times, they’re great at creating their own learning experiences like this. At others, their undeveloped personalities create less-than-gracious situations, and that’s where I come in. My job is to redirect, to draw lines regarding courtesy, fair play and rules, and to ensure things stay enjoyable. If they don’t, I shut it down, and we move on.

Our Other School

The kids helped to plant some more of the garden today. With 7 CSA customers this year, we've had to change our gardening style a bit. We're taking a more intensive approach, planting more of everything - and closer together.

Onion-planting has become a family tradition for us. The kids love how easy it is - onions are so tough and forgiving. They like the little bulbs we buy, and they like poking them in the ground. It's a job where even the 5-year-old can give significant help.

The other relatively new tradition we have (as of last year, when we began using a raised-bed planting style) is the creation of garden paths. The kids love this part. As we plant each bed, they get to walk or hop around it, creating a narrow packed trail that's fairly resistant to weeds because of its hardness.

Though we lay aside any books for a few weeks at this time of year, we'll pick them up again in mid-July when the afternoons become unbearably hot. Then, we're back to hands-on as the harvest and canning get into full swing in the last half of August.

The New Room

Spazzerific has spent the day furnishing and organizing his new room. The walls I so carefully painted have been plastered with posters (sigh). His dresser, desk and a set of shelves have been installed.

I haven't seen him all day.

He spent a good part of the afternoon scouring every book nook in the house, collecting all the books that were his, and arranging them carefully. He has his school books and his birdwatching accessories stashed in the desk. On top is his Bible and his Field Guide to the Birds. He informed me he thought it best to keep both of those close at hand.

If it weren't for his 5-year-old brother, the Spazz would be a tidy creature, for the most part. He's basking in his newfound sense of order, privacy and quiet. Being 11, he has become territorial, wanting a space he can define as his own.

We talked about the responsibilities involved in having the newest, nicest room in the house (of which everyone is a little jealous). He's not to scratch or otherwise deface the paint job. He's not to dig holes in the walls (guilty in both his last two bedrooms). He's not to move his posters around constantly, because we don't need a bunch of holes poked in the wall either. He must take care of the room, or lose the privilege of sole occupancy. He must not smash the laundry basket we're giving him for his dirty laundry (also guilty in the past).

Because he's always, always shared a room with a sibling, it's been hard for him to feel motivated about taking care of things - his own get broken, and it's not his job to clean up after the other kid. It's been hard to keep his things tidy and out of reach. Now, he can admire his 3-D ship puzzle and his models, have all his books at hand, and study without interruption and distraction. I would not be surprised to find him vacuuming his carpet without prompting - at least at first.

We'll see how long it takes for the novelty to wear off....

Click here to see photos at our HSB blog.

Employability

I haven't told the kids yet, but they're getting a raise.

As my back spasmed its way through yesterday's garden cleanup and planting, my oldest became the keystone of the day's work. He removed last year's cornstalks and sunflowers, helped to plant strawberries, and hauled mulch. Some of the work was done with no supervision - he took the initiative, already knowing what tools he was expected to use and what he was expected to accomplish. He's 11 years old.

Our market garden is our family business. It's a training ground for the kids, more than anything. At this stage, it's too small to support us. But they're learning valuable lessons, and so am I.

In order to get it all done myself, even in this small format, I would have to hire a local teenager. The teenager would only be available after school and on weekends, assuming other commitments didn't exist. The teenager would have to be trained, and wouldn't have any sense of ownership in the business. Even a farm kid would have to be retrained, because we're small-scale, intensive, organic, and we're growing vegetables, not grains.

My kids already understand the nature of the business. They know what's important to its success, and they know how to meet the necessary goals. My son took the extra time yesterday to ensure he wasn't disposing of earthworms along with the root balls he dug out.

The kids are familiar with what we plant, and they're constantly learning more about how to grow it successfully. They ask questions and are engaged in the agricultural processes. They're motivated.

Their value to the business already meets or exceeds what I could expect of any other local kid. They may be a bit slower, because they're still small. But they have enough other qualities that make up for it.

Someday, when they're ready to step out on their own, I wonder if I'll end up handing over the community-supported agriculture project to one or several of them. That assumes we'd still be living here, doing the things we do now. However, I'm sure they'd be capable of taking it over seamlessly by then.

And if not, they're already building skills and attitudes that will make them more employable wherever they do go.

Planting Strawberries

After being gifted about a million strawberry plants by my neighbour - which is fine with me - I took the younger two out to the garden, and we began to plant them.

Although only 7 and 5, they were very careful with the plants. I showed them how to identify the strawberry's crown (the part of the plant that the leaves sprout from) and how to be sure they weren't burying it too deep. I asked them to bring me some straw, and when they arrived with it, Squirrelly Girlie said triumphantly, "I know what this is for! It's just like at Mary's!"

She remembered going raspberry picking at the neighbour's last year, and how all the rows were mulched with straw. We talked about that, and how the strawberries like their tops warm and their roots cool. This led to an epiphany about why strawberries are called strawberries. It was all very fascinating.

The Wee Man used his toy ride-on tractor to bring more straw, like his Granddad does for the sheep. He soon went to play on the swings, and that was fine too. He'd had his experience with the plants, and he'd learned a few things.

I'm sure by the time we're done planting everything, they'll be sick of strawberry plants. But for now, it's fun, and the fun will return when we get our first berries.

A Whole New Level of Home Making

There are a lot of resources out there for teaching kids cooking, cleaning and care of the home. Many of these are targeted to the Christian homeschool market, with mothers and daughters specifically in mind.

But how about this: Mommy drywalls the new bedroom, sands it and paints it.

That's a whole other way of looking at home "making"! But it's an important one. In our house, stuff like this happens because A) Daddy couldn't possibly do it all himself, plus work a full-time + overtime job, and B) Daddy likes building things, but not the finishing work.

So it fell to either me or the professionals to put the finishing touches on our basement reno (Part 1, Part 2). Since we don't have the money to hire professionals.... I got to role-model an important life skill to my kids, and in particular my girls.

I know there are also plenty of guys out there who are hopeless with construction and renovation, but as a woman, I want my girls to know they're capable of taking on things that some would consider "guy" tasks. In my experience, things like this come naturally when role modelled by the parents. For example, I never considered critical thinking unusual or arcane, because it was modelled in my childhood home through discussion and active social participation.

That's life-led learning. You tackle what life throws at you, and let your kids watch you at it.

The Family Tradition of Dialogue

Although no one wanted to do much formal bookwork today, what with the first warm days of spring upon us, we did have some very interesting spontaneous discussions.

For one, a minor rebellion from the peanut gallery involved the question, "Why do I have to learn anything?" So we talked about the fact that society does not owe us a living, and moreover, that in this culture, people are conditioned not to give a care for the most part. We talked about the long-term consequences of a lack of education - social marginalization, employment problems, basic life management problems. All in smaller words, of course.

Somehow, this transitioned into a discussion of sexuality. (Yes, although the kids are age 11 and under, this gets airtime in our home, but at an age-appropriate level.) The topic was feelings of attraction and the long-term effects of relationship breakdowns. Much as we are a Christian family, the kids know I didn't live a Christianized lifestyle as a teen and young adult. When we talk about the pitfalls of premarital sex, we talk about the real-time heartache, and possible physical side effects such as disease.

Then, at supper, Dave brought up the Virginia shootings. I took out a magazine from Focus on the Family which featured an article called "Killology." I read most of it, and we learned some new vocabulary words: Desensitization. Operative conditioning. Psychology. Frontal lobes. First-person shooter.

The discussion featured several side trails, including the random attack on a school attended by relatives. We talked about conscience, about why kids would "act out" violent games - "Anytime you guys watch a movie, you go get your toys and play the movie, don't you? You play Cars with your Hot Wheels, and the Barbie movies with your Barbies."

Banana Brain, who is a very intuitive 9-year-old, asked, "If they turn their conscience off, then can they ever get it back?" The article answered this question as well. Since the article also mentioned the link between understanding consequences, completing schoolwork, and taking on adult responsibilities, we ended up revisiting our earlier discussion on the importance of a good education.

Discussion has been the primary source of embedded family learning for three generations in my family. I can recall being in the tent out at my grandparents' cottage, lying awake and listening to them discussing and preparing my older cousins for life away from home. The family shares its wisdom, experience and skills this way.

Also in the family tradition, I try to ask non-leading questions that provoke critical thinking by challenging their assumptions. They're now starting to get ahead of the game, spontaneously bringing concepts together to form networked ideas. We're slowly beginning to move into a stage where we can generate ideas and use each other as sounding boards to test those ideas.

It's a very natural, connected way of learning, and is a core facet of life-led learning. Learning by doing and by discussing go hand-in-hand as we mentor our children by daily experience. The main thing is that it's dialogue, not monologue. As the kids participate, they process and take ownership of ideas. In spite of the issue of audial learning retention being "least efficient" on average, this kind of discussion actually roots more deeply than many other, more formal types of learning, because of the way it actively engages the kids' minds.

Dance Exams

The three older kids completed their tap dance exams this afternoon. There was a lot of nervous energy in the house all morning, but surprisingly few fights.

They came back with wonderful scores - there was a 96, a 97, and even a 100%. I'm not assigning names to any of these, because the 96 was disappointed, and the 97 burst into tears about not also getting 100, like Other Child did.

We were very impressed with them. We were told that this examiner was a fairly tough one, and, reassured the teacher, "Getting a 95 is like getting 100 with this examiner."

It seems we have a perfectionist in our midst. However, the important part from my perspective was that their practicing was almost completely self-motivated, that they helped each other practice, even across grade levels, and that they obviously gave it their best in the exam room.

As we told them, this is practice for getting a driver's license, passing job evaluations, and completing the myriad of skills testing that happens in the work world today.

Planting Season Begins

Our home business is a Community-Supported Agriculture project. People buy memberships at the start of the year, and we deliver vegetables to their doorstep for 10 weeks through the growing season.

Today, we started green pepper and tomato seedlings, or so we hope. The kids helped out, putting soil into the potting trays and doing some cleanup. We log what we've planted, how many, and on what day. We also log the time spent, so that we can track the value of our work input.

Through our CSA, the kids are learning plant science, business skills and the life skills involved in growing your own food - something sorely lacking in the developed world.

Fair Day

Breakneck took the kids to the local fair yesterday. They came back with stories of the "Birds of Prey" show, the horse-jumping, and the many friends and acquaintances they met there.

Of most interest to me, though, was that my painfully shy 11-year-old found out about a local country radio personality who was there at the station's booth. He was determined he was going to go talk to "Shotgun."

Which he did. He made conversation with a total stranger, a minor celeb at that. Just as he was about to leave, "Shotgun" said, "Hey," and called him by name. "Hang on a minute." Then he gave my boy a promotional ball cap. There is no better gift in this kid's world.

Today, the same painfully-shy boy took my library card, called the local library, and left a message for the librarian that we needed our books renewed as we wouldn't be in town this week.

I know his rate of growth in the area of extroversion wouldn't be acceptable in a public-school setting. But given time, he's coming into his own.

My younger two came back without having run off from their Auntie, having snuggled a baby goat, and so on. They did not look like themselves when I greeted them at the door last night.


Apparently some company or other sponsored some highly-skilled professional face painters, who turned my kids into the wild animals they are at heart.