Happy Feeling

Yesterday was full of dress-up and dance, the Classical music wafting through the living room in differing tempos.  At one point Songbird looks up at me and says, "I have such a lovely feeling when I dance - like I can feel that God really loves me..."  It reminds me of Eric Liddell in Chariots of Fire.  A few minutes later she tacks on, "but I feel it even more when I'm dancing at home (as opposed to during ballet class) because the music is fast and loud and I can move my body like this (insert crazy kinesthetic experience) :)  

This made me cry today...

And I'm not that crazy, because I looked over at BRO and he was about to cry, too. He even said, "Mama, why is this so sad?" But the thing is, it's so happy!
vimeo.com/47134917

Glimpses

Food and Power

Hubry is teaching a seminar class this semester entitled Food and Power. It’s quite the hot topic these days, and I’ve even had a lot of friends ask me for a copy of the class reading list. So…. here’s a little something to wet the apetite. Yesterday Hubry opened class with this popular Portlandia video – you know the ridiculously funny episode where the couple asks for the chicken’s papers and want to know all about his little life before they can decide whether or not to eat him for dinner. If you haven’t watched it yet, you definitely should.

Anyway, one of the assigned readings from yesterday was a lovely piece – and I don’t know for sure but I got the impression that it’s not well known in the popular food movement – that I definitely think is worth a read. The article, Kitchen Literacy: How we Lost Knowledge of Where Food Comes From and why we Need to get it Back, by Ann Vileisis opens with a description of a meal by Martha Ballard, and broadens out to describe her entire foodshed, which we learn is about a 20 mile radius or so. It’s a short article, and if you like what you read about Martha Ballard you could always move on to A Midwive’s Tale (She was also a midwife)– which I have not read yet but Hubry says is a beautifully written history based on Martha Ballard’s journals. Or, if you’re really interested, you could go straight to the source and read Martha Ballard’s journals firthand. She is common in that she was a woman raising children, doing housework, tending to her gardens, delivering babies on the side, yet unique in that she is one of the only American women from the eighteenth century to actually keep a journal – and she lived right down the road from us in Augusta, Maine!

 Happy reading. More to come…

the fingers

View Larger Map We went down to Harpswell yesterday, a town of "fingers" dipping into Casco Bay, where the highway just stops at the end of the land, and there's a walk along the rocky coast and a tiny beach chock full of pebbles. Bro and Songbird had quite a time gathering pebbles and categorizing them into colors, shapes, and patterns. "These are the spectacles!" Songbird said again and again. "Speckled," Kelly would reply.

Wolfe's Neck Woods

We stumbled upon this State Park last weekend. It really did feel like stumbling as we were driving along a rambling road that went from farm to woods - straight to curvy, then all of a sudden a sharp turn into a seemingly abandoned park entrance. We second guessed ourselves about whether or not this was the place... But after winding on we came upon a parking lot and other outdoor enthusiasts. It was just lovely - and worth stumbling upon in every respect.

The local library here has "observer packs," and we've been borrowing the bird pack. It has a child - friendly Birds of Maine book - color coded (genius), so even the 5 year-old can hunt for birds, and comes with a little pair of working binoculars. Hubry's big binoculars came with us, too. There is a trail that follows the shoreline - a classic rocky Maine line, with places to tiptoe off the path and rest on a boulder. The binoculars and bird book were in and out of the backpack the whole trip, and there is something so inspiring about watching an empowered 5 hunt for something - something real and living - something she can find by color.

The 3 year-old was our fearless leader, and I was surprised at his energy and perseverance - not crashing until the way back. It was the white, curly umbrella fungus that convinced him to keep going all the way back to the picnic tables. Really not a fungus at all - Hubry called it Indian Pipe (though that was a guess and I haven't confirmed it yet).

Back at the tables we picnicked in an open field - just what was needed for a restless over-backpacked baby itching to do some toddling.  Definitely a site to return to, and less than 20 minutes away.

Afterwards we headed into Freeport to have some Ben and Jerrys because it is only miles down the road.  Funny how going to Freeport always makes us feel like we are on vacation...

dialogue

Wifey: Have you noticed that our kids are exploding with questions these days? Songbird: Mama, what's "exploding with questions"?