Through a coincidence of scheduling, this week I had signed up each of the three kids for hiking programs with the county parks department. The weather was up and down all week – mostly down – so I was a little nervous they might be miserable. But I bundled the kids up and each excursion was quite fun. In terms of bundling, this year, I bought the older kids HeatTech underlayers from Uniqlo to layer under their clothes and they seem to be really happy wearing them. The baby has wool underwear hand me downs from the older kids. I also bought them all SmartWool socks when they were on sale last month. I’m hoping that between the underlayers and the winter coats, hats, gloves, and scarves, we will be well equipped for outdoor winter excursions.
First up was the baby (okay, toddler) and a ramble through the woods. It was chilly, but we had fun. We looked under logs and found snails and beetles, and crunched through the fallen leaves, and enjoyed the fall colour and bare trees, and sat and had a snack on a pile of logs. The naturalist also pointed out ar eally cool tree that had really been two trees growing together, but one of the trees had fallen away, leaving some above ground roots like a scraggly wizard’s beard. I was utterly fascinated by the tangle of tentacles.
Discoveries in the woods.
At the end of the week was the nine year old’s turn. I had signed us up for a Full Moon Hike at one of our Nature Centers. The hike started at 7pm and actually wasn’t as cold as I had feared. Or maybe I was just overly bundled. The naturalist who led the hike was really enthusiastic and pointed out all sorts of ways for us to “observe” things on a hike using our sense of hearing. I was really surprised how bright the moon was – the only time we used flashlights was when the naturalist was doing a show and tell of some animal furs that she had brought along to illustrated the kinds of animals lived in the area.
moonlight on water by the shadow of the moon. bright moon through trees
The four year old’s chance came over the weekend, with a hike that the nature center called “Wild Child Hike”. The naturalist took the kids off the trail to find fallen trees and logs and rocks to climb and jump over and balance on. Some of the fallen trees feel in such a way that one end was wedged on other trees, creating tree trunk ramps that rose quite high off the ground. The four year old also spent much time just poking at termite soften stumps with a stick.
I was struck by how kids are happy to repeat actions without purpose or end point. The baby was at a toddler play group recently and there was a ball ramp toy that she played with endlessly, dropping ball after ball down the ramp and watching balls fall from one track to the other. Similarly with the four year old and his fierce stick poking and poking and slashing at rotten tree stumps. In Kieran Setiya’s Midlife he talks of telic and atelic activities – the former are things that you with with and end point in mind and the latter are activities without end points. He points to being able to engage in atelic activities as one of the keys to satisfaction in life. It occurred to me that this idea is one of those things that children have figured out, but which they lose the sense of as they grow up. Or perhaps they are taught that only telic activities have value. I feel like one of the luxuries of unemployment is being able to reconnect with the atelic activities in my life. It seems horribly self indulgent. But perhaps that’s the problem?
Something I Googled this week: “How to remove a doorknob with no screws”.
The baby has now figured out how to lock doors. Quite intentionally. This is a problem. She locked the door to the kids’ room this week. Twice. The second time, the nine year old managed to pop the lock with a butter knife. And that’s when we realized that it wasn’t a fluke and the baby was doing it on purpose. So we decided that the door knob had to come off. Only there were no visible screw by which to unscrew the door knob and remove it. Thank goodness for YouTube videos. It’s been a little strange to not have a doorknob. We will eventually replace it, but our house has these vintage (or retro, your pick) brass knobs with that irreplaceable patina of age and life, so, like many things with us, it might be a while before we figure out what we want to do.
Growing things:
I snapped a picture of this tree in the front yard of our first house. We are lucky enough that after we moved to our current house, we were able to rent out this house. Our first little house holds a lot of memories – we moved in right before we got married, had our rehearsal dinner there, brought two of our kids home from the hospital to this little yellow house… The Husband and I sometimes think we will move back there after the kids are grown and we need less space. This pear tree had been about half the size when we first moved in eleven years ago. It was a little sapling, almost haphazardly placed in the front yard. The Husband and I used to joke that the previous owners put it there to cover up a dead body, its presence was a little random bit of landscaping. Every spring the tree would explode with white blossoms and I would insist on taking pictures in front of it. We moved out of that house three years ago. This week when I was over doing some maintenance, I was struck by that feeling you get when you don’t see someone for a long time, and suddenly you see them and realize that they’ve been growing and flourishing while you weren’t there.
Growing siblings:
Usually the Husband picks up the kids after school, but I did the pick up run one day and decided to walk. It’s getting darker now – technically sundown comes just as the bus pulls up around 4:50pm. Even though the walk home is pretty short – less than half a mile – some days the walk is like herding cats. There is usually one kid who doesn’t want to walk, one kid who wants to explore every leaf and stick and one kid who is charging ahead. The other day, I was not in the mood for the walk to take 20 minutes, so I told the nine year old and the baby to hold hands. The nine year old, nose buried in her book, managed to hold her sister’s hand all the way home. I don’t know if it was the reading while walking, or the firm grasp on her sister’s hand, or the gorgeous winter sunset, but something about the whole scene made me want to burst with joy.
Speaking of heart bursting:
One morning, in the mad dash to get out the door and to school, I forgot something inside the house. I can’t remember what now. But I ran inside to grab it off the dining room table. And I looked up and something about the way the early winter sunlight streamed low and intense through the curtain just made me stop breathless. The room was bathed in this beautiful orange light, as if the curtain weren’t just cloth and thread, but the stained glass of a cathedral. And it didn’t matter, the half eaten cereal bowls and banana peels left on the table from breakfast, or the mismatched chairs, or the mess of papers… for that one moment, the dining room was the most perfect place in the world, and even though we were late and the morning was chaotic, I felt frozen, and I almost wept at the beauty of it.
What We Ate:
Saturday: oooh can’t remember. It might have been leftovers.
Sunday: Leftovers. Grilled cheese Sandwiches for the kids.
Monday: Black bean soup and quesadillas.
Tuesday: Pearl Meatballs (pork meatballs covered with sticky rice), sauteed bok choy, and Breakfast at Shuko’s noodles (from Meera Sodha’s East). These noodes were pure saucy tasty comfort for me – udon noodles mixed with raw eggs and soy sauce. Sounds odd, but raw eggs and soy sauce is one of my favorite dipping sauces for hot pot, so it was actually a very nostalgic combination for me. Hot pot places don’t let you do the raw egg/soy sauce combo these days because of concerns of food safety, I guess.
Wednesday: Lentil Salad from America’s Test Kitchen’s Vegan for Everyone.
Thursday: The Husband cooked – breakfast sandwiches.
Friday: Bah Minh sandwiches take out. No movie tonight because of Full Moon Hike.
I’m literally looking at a giant poster print of Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening – one of my favourite poems and I love the “and miles to go before I sleep” ending.
I know the exact type of moment you’re describing with the dining room curtain. The joy is almost too much to bear, even in a seemingly “mundane” moment. I love when these things happen; little punctuation marks of joy and “enlightenment” in the middle of the mess and chaos of daily life.