basket weaving by the seat of my trousers

“There were no sex classes. No friendship classes. No classes on how to navigate a bureaucracy, build an organization, raise money, create a database, buy a house, love a child, spot a scam, talk someone out of suicide, or figure out what was important to me. Not knowing how to do these things is what messes people up in life, not whether they know algebra or can analyze literature.” -William Upski Wimsatt (someone please fact check the link between this name and this quote...)

Inspired in part by the above quote and this music (The Lone Bellow)

after spending a weekend sorting, organizing, and scanning 29 years of photos

on the occasion of the anniversary of my becoming a mother

my first poem in a long while

basket weaving by the seat of my trousers

life is a little easier

when we know every human

we meet is flying

by the seat of his or her pants

especially when we remember

we ourselves don't have working navigational systems

or radio contact. it's important to be

in our bodies, and to have faith

in our ability to literally feel our way through

the fog. it is enough to listen,

to listen to your friend, to listen to your heart,

to listen to your own voice while you are talking,

to listen to the wind in the trees, to listen

to the song of love, and to know

every crack in every heart can

be healed

lovingly knit it with threads

of honest kindness. you

are a basket woven

it is your job to keep your basket repaired

to consciously choose

what goes in the basket and what stays

out. your brokenness cannot help

but allow some darkness to seep

out onto others and cause breaks in other hearts,

the brokenness of others cannot help but overflow

onto yours. forgive.

especially forgive yourself for not

knowing. and forgive everyone

who breaks you

for not knowing better. and learn. learn and create

safety.

learn and create nurture. learn and create

a place

where each person can say

what their broken heart looks like

how they plan to sew it up

so it can hold love

to the point of overflowing.

so it can hold

you.

-barbara l. walker 2013 morgantown wv

 (I'm having a hard time doing the above these days.)

 (I stopped eating sugar, and now I have these STUPID things called feelings. Wah!)

Idiom etymology... "by the seat of one's pants"

More Unlimited

I just found this post in my draft folder.  Not sure why I didn't post it when I wrote it in 2009, about a month after our trip to Ethiopia to pick up the kids. Makes me want to go back to Addis.
_______________________________________________________________

My friend, Liz, writes a great blog about her quest for fitness. She loves the theater. She has taken her frustration about her body and made her quest for healthy self-love and self-care into a performance. I love her writing. This entry is about living within our means.

I have been thinking about and pursuing this "living within my means" thing for the last five years, but especially since I brought my kids here from Ethiopia. Four weeks IN Ethiopia (NOT at the Hilton or the Sheraton) actually shifted my focus more to thinking of it in terms of time rather than money or food. No electricity every third day? No problem. Read a book. No way to do any work from here? No problem. Play with the kids. No chores to do because I am not at home? No problem, go for a walk. Or heck, just sit here in the sunshine.

Sometimes when I am in the car, beating myself up for not getting enough done, I take a deep breath and remember the feeling of just being that I had so often in Ethiopia. One day we went to the Ethiopian Immigration building. There were hundreds of people there, mostly Ethiopian. Everyone had to wait for long periods to get their piece of paper signed, or their photo taken, or to pay their fee, or to do all of it. I brought books for my kids to read while they waited. But almost no-one else had brought anything to do while they were waiting. They all sat, and waited, some talked a bit, but mostly, people just waited. Can you imagine people here choosing not to multi-task? American waiting rooms have TVs, toys, magazines galore. It's a rare thing for people in these rooms to greet each other, and actually look into each others eyes. In Ethiopia, almost everyone looked into my eyes.

Enjoying coffee after dinner on the porch with new friends in Addis Ababa

So much of what I do with food, and money, has to do with not being able to just be. I'm bored, so I eat. I'm scared, so I spend money. I'm grumpy, so I cheer myself up by spending money and eating.

I have been a little mystified by my boys' behavior around food and activities and stuff. Here are kids who owned nothing, and really have no concept of money-value of things. They were surprised when I told them that I pay for the electricity, and our car, and our house. They are overwhelmed by all the stuff, all the toys, all the clothes (and we kept ourselves from doing the usual buy buy buy that most parents do). Yet, when I say no to buying a new pair of soccer shoes, they sulk. When I tell them that what they just ate for dinner was plenty (because it was twice as much as I could ever eat in one sitting), they sulk because they cannot have another banana. They have never had the opportunity to have more, more, more, so now MORE is what they want all the time. And they live in the land of MORE. They have been told all their lives about America... that there is MORE in America. Mostly, it is the dream of going to America to be educated, then coming back to Ethiopia and helping build the country into something more. To help. To be of service. This is what so many Ethiopians want from going to America.

So, can they learn here? Can people actually learn what they need to learn to be of service here in a place where More More More is the silent ohm chanted by almost every American? How can the experience of MORE UNLIMITED not get under one's skin?

And how is it not disgusting to people who have grown up in a culture of "enough is too much" and "no problem?"  (Note from the future, 2013: it is not disgusting to kids because they are kids. Based on my reading, I am pretty sure it is disgusting to adults who come here from other cultures where More is not valued over Enough.)

By the way, I am going tomorrow to trade in my perfectly good Subaru wagon for a mini-van so I can have more. More space, more seat belts for my bigger family. It makes sense, but it still feels so American. So ridiculously lavish. So comfortable in a world full of people who accept so much discomfort saying "no problem."

Dance, Rise

This morning, in my bed, I felt completely safe and loved.  I thought: this is the ultimate privilege, to be safe and adored and deeply connected to someone who loves me, someone I love.

Last night, inspired by a friend's invitation to today's One Billion Rising event in my town, I watched some of the videos, and listened to the anthem, Break the Chain.  I watched the short film that has been available for the last half a year, and I watched the one that was made for Indonesia.  In the films, there are images of women experiencing violence.  These are dramatizations of actual horrifying events that happen to real people, mostly to women and children, every day.  They are not even as long or as graphic as the the same events we see dramatized in movies (for our entertainment, ugh!), but they are more difficult to watch. The film then goes on to show us these same women, opening their eyes and rising.  Rising out of these miserable events and Getting Out, and dancing.  Yes, dancing.

This is a world-wide event, organized to connect people everywhere in an effort to raise the level of effort being directed at ending violence against women. People all over the world have organized a dance.  A global flash mob.   

I am 51 years old, and there is a well-honed cynical portion of my mind that sees the website and the thirty-second celebrity videos and the t-shirts and the dance videos and the Concept and says:  

What Good Will It Do?

In my life, I have been raped, harassed, pimped, abandoned pregnant, neglected, exploited in the workplace, and ridiculed because I am female. The horror in that statement comes from the fact that my life has been pretty average.

Most of that is not happening for me anymore... I have risen. I rose out of oppression with the help and love of many people who decided to create safety and love for people in their lives. I used to spend a lot of energy working to end sexism and empower women. But lately, I haven't had the same sense of urgency.

this is my body

my body's holy

I am a feminist.  I minored in Women Studies.  I marched in Take Back the Night marches. I have stood up and spoken out.  I have taken risks.  But I have become lazy and cynical and invested in my own comfort.  I do everything I can to make my life comfortable.  And then I throw some leftover crumbs to "people in need" in the form of an occasional check to a non-profit organization. That is what I do to work towards the elimination of oppression these days.

Well, not really.  I also work very hard to raise my children to recognize oppressions and to be allies to the oppressed and to just generally be loving and kind.  I work very hard to change myself into the kind of person I want them to be, knowing that they will learn what I do much more deeply than they learn what I say to them. So, yes, I do put some real effort into changing this world. On the home front.

Meanwhile, women and children all over this world are being raped and beaten and living in slavery.

Meanwhile, women and children all over this world - in MY community, in MY town, here in my "free" country - are being treated like possessions, like things.

One in three women is raped in her lifetime.

Even during those amazing moments

when I am fully aware 

of how precious and rare 

is my experience 

of real safety and love.

But here's the thing: 

IT IS NOT A PRIVILEGE.

SAFETY AND LOVE 

are BIRTHRIGHTS 

of every human being.

Every person is inherently entitled to be safe, to love, and to be loved.

This is my most deeply held belief.  This is the bottom line underneath every statement of belief I have ever spoken.

So, today, at 5:30, I will meet the people in Morgantown who are rising and dancing to end violence against women.  I will be dancing for SAFETY.  I will be dancing for LOVE.

And if the only thing that comes out of this day of women and men and children attempting to bring awareness to their communities that the chains must be broken is that a significant number of young women take this song to heart... then I have hope that someday we will live in a world where every one experiences real safety, and real love.

I will be teaching my children this song.




Break the Chain  by Tena Clark
Music by Tena Clark/Tim Heintz

Intro- I raise my arms to the sky
On my knees I pray
I’m not afraid anymore
I will walk through that door
Walk, dance, rise
Walk, dance, rise

I can see a world where we all live
Safe and free from all oppression
No more rape or incest, or abuse
Women are not a possession

You’ve never owned me, don’t even know me I’m not invisible, I’m simply wonderful I feel my heart for the first time racing I feel alive, I feel so amazing

I dance cause I love
Dance cause I dream
Dance cause I’ve had enough
Dance to stop the screams
Dance to break the rules
Dance to stop the pain
Dance to turn it upside down
Its time to break the chain, oh yeah
Break the Chain
Dance, rise
Dance, rise

In the middle of this madness, we will stand I know there is a better world Take your sisters & your brothers by the hand Reach out to every woman & girl

This is my body, my body’s holy
No more excuses, no more abuses
We are mothers, we are teachers,
We are beautiful, beautiful creatures
I dance cause I love
Dance cause I dream
Dance cause I’ve had enough
Dance to stop the screams
Dance to break the rules
Dance to stop the pain
Dance to turn it upside down
It’s time to break the chain, oh yeah
Break the Chain, oh yeah
Break the Chain

Dance Break Inst.

Dance, rise
Dance, rise

Sister won’t you help me, sister won’t you rise x4

Dance, rise
Dance, rise

Sister won’t you help me, sister won’t you rise x4

This is my body, my body’s holy
No more excuses, no more abuses
We are mothers, we are teachers,
We are beautiful, beautiful creatures

I dance cause I love
Dance cause I dream
Dance cause I’ve had enough
Dance to stop the screams
Dance to break the rules
Dance to stop the pain
Dance to turn it upside down
Its time to break the chain, oh yeah
Break the Chain, oh yeah
Break the Chain
(Repeat chorus)

Here is the One Billion Rising website, where you can see what is happening all over the world today.
Here is the short film which gives me a sense that I am connected to every woman in this world, and we can rise together.

Here is the message from the United Nations Office of the General Secretary.

“If I can't dance - I don't want to be part of your revolution.”

Emma Goldman

Creating instead of Consuming

Short story:  I lost our Fitness Improvement Competition at work.  It was just for fun with a little money on the line, so no big deal.  Except that for three months I really tried to lost some weight and I didn't.  Not that weight matters that much, but it is one easily measurable indicator of fitness.  It's the trend I was not liking... gaining five pounds a year doesn't sound like much until you think about what that means: it means fifty pounds by my sixtieth birthday. Ack!!!

The week after I lost at losing, I decided to make a daily walk my top priority.  Yes.  Priority number one each day is to get my body moving.  So after the kids are off to school, Laird and I take the dogs for a three-mile walk on the rail trail.  Yes, it means I am late to work.  So I work late.  Which works way better than getting to work early, coming home to not-exercise because it is dinner time, then not-exercise because I just had dinner, then not-exercise because it is too close to bedtime.

So, we have walked every day since mid-February. We're happier, the dogs are happier, we're healthier, and we get more couple time.  Walking... it's not just for the mailbox anymore.

Also, in January, I read the book 7 and got inspired to confront overconsumption in my life.  I asked the questions, and made my own plan because my life is way different than Jen Hatmaker's life.

Month 1 was Possessions.  I wanted to get rid of seven things a day, but I don't have a book deal; I still have to work a full-time job while I am confronting overconsumption.  So, I spent weekends de-cluttering.  I am still working on actually getting rid of some of the stuff I weeded out. (Stay tuned for a list of items I am giving away.)  But hey, I haven't bought much at all since then just because I am more aware of the overabundance of stuff I don't use in my house.  Also, I decreased my Overfunctioning.  Just needed to be done, so I added it in to month 1.  I will need to re-visit this effort, of course, because, like stuff, overfunctioning seems to creep back into my life whenever I am not consciously keeping it at bay.

Month 2 was Food.  I dropped sugar, chocolate, coffee, and alcohol.  Well, I intended to.  I knew sugar would be hardest, so I set my mind on that, and ended up cheating on coffee and chocolate a little bit, and pretty much ignoring my idea of skipping alcohol.  It's not that I drink that much wine and beer (average one to two glasses a week).  I just wanted to skip the things that might have been zapping my energy level and see how it feels live on goodness.  Well, it felt good.  I slept better, I felt better, I worked better.  Now, keep in mind, all this time I was also walking three miles every morning, so it might have mostly been about that.  Still, I've done some research, and here you go:  fructose is poison.  And sucrose is half fructose.  And almost everything I used to eat had one or both in them.  In excess.  So, if I avoid refined sugar and high fructose corn syrup, I pretty much have a diet of real food.  Veggies, fruit, meat, eggs, and cheese.  And a little milk.  And butter.  I can deal... I eat LOTS of veggies and a couple of pieces of fruit a day.  I eat happy (free-range, local, drug-free) meat from our freezer and free range eggs from the co-op.  I substitute perfectly ripe avocados for chocolate. Not local, but hey, I'm working on it.  I substitute tea with a little milk and honey in it for my latte.  And I substitute bread from New Day Bakery for everything else I used to eat.  And I eat Triscuits with chevre.  Yum.  So, March was not that bad.

So, I rewarded myself with home-made brownies on April 1.  Yes, I missed brownies.  And I found creme fraiche at Kroger, oh my goodness.  We had some with berries for our Famiversary dinner dessert, and I wanted to know what to do with the rest, so I looked on the website for recipes.  And found brownies.  But, the recipe called for 16 ounces of butter and 8 ounces of creme fraiche.  That would make a biglotta brownies.  So, I cut the recipe in half.  And in half again. And substituted some things. And changed some quantities. And added something.  And they turned out to be really yummy.  So perfectly between cakey and fudgey that they were not either. They didn't look like the ones in the recipe at Vermont Creamery.

I would post a picture, but they have been completely devoured. 

Barbara's Once-a-Month Brownies

Pre-heat oven to 300 F.  Grease an 8x8 glass pan.
Melt 1.5 ounces (three squares - it was all I had of the Precious) Ghirardelli bittersweet chocolate (I think... maybe it was the extra bittersweet) with a stick of butter in a double boiler and allow to cool.  Whisk 2 eggs with a little more than a cup of coconut crystals (sugar), a quarter teaspoon of vanilla extract, a quarter teaspoon of almond extract (I spilled so it was more like a half teaspoon), and 2 ounces of creme fraiche. (Definitely lick the spoon here since you are only doing this once a month, darling.)  Mix until incorporated.  Fold half the chocolate/butter mixture into the egg/sugar mixture.  Then 1/3 cup flour.  Then the rest of the choc/butter.  Then another 1/3 cup flour.  Do not overmix. If you want, add some chocolate chips (about 3 ounces).  Bake for about 40 minutes.  Cool.  Cut into squares.

I eat mine with butter on top.  Yes, for real.  That's what we did in the Walker family, but it was blue bonnet margarine (which was probably not the same product it is now) that my mom called butter.  When I found out that no-one else in the whole wide world eats butter on top of their brownies, I was aghast.  Now that I would eat dry toast (from my favorite bakery) rather than put blue bonnet on it, I eat even more butter on top of my brownies.  I know. It doesn't make sense.  But, my love of butter has been exonerated in Dr. Lustig's video, Sugar: the Bitter Truth.  Calories are not the problem.  Fat is not the problem  It's sugar.  Namely, fructose.  So, month 2 has been a huge step towards health for me.  Even if I do put butter on my already rich once-a-month brownies.

Month 3:  April was supposed to be about getting moving... about ending my overconsumption of couch potatoness.  I was planning to put in at least 49 miles a week of walking or biking.  But, since I started walking three miles a day, and I ride my bike to work at least once a week (21+18=39, close enough), April needed a new focus.  And so, I introduce to you: Month 3, the month of Sleep.  I will sleep more and grouch less.  Go to bed at or before 10:30.  So far, I have been a dismal failure.

It turns out that my overconsumption (stuff, food, waste, etc) did not need to be addressed as much as my underconsumption (veggies, movement, sleep)... does that make any sense?

By the way, I have lost over eight pounds in six weeks. 
(I didn't even do that last year training for running a 5K.)
Walk three miles a day and drop the refined sugar. Boom.

Celebrations as Triggers

One of the things I wish I had known when I brought my children home from Ethiopia is that speical events would be a major trigger for our kids for the first year they were home.  A special event is something out of routine:  any holiday or event or celebration that people get excited about or put time into preparing for or talk about ahead of time.

 

I first clued into this when it was time for school photos.  No big deal, right?  It's just a picture.  "Dress up a little today because they are going to take your pictures at school."  Well, several stubborn fits and one all-out meltdown leading up to this event got me thinking.  Oh, the times they had photos taken at the children's home, they were told to smile nice and a family might choose them.  Or something like that.  When it was picture time, I'm sure all the kids were full of anxiety about whether they would ever have a family. 

 

Valentine's Day - anything the teachers and kids at school talked about as a future event - sent my kids into Anxietyville.  They didn't know what to expect, they could sense that these things were not ordinary things, and they were out of routine.  At the children's home, knowing what was coming next (routine) was one of the few comforts they had.  Surprises, even good ones, were not good.  When they don't know what to expect, there is a little part of their broken hearts that says "hey, this is what it felt like when they put us in a car and sent us to KM and our whole world turned upside-down" or "hey, this is what it felt like when mom died" or "hey, this is what it felt like when we got on the plane and left everything we knew."  It would be enough to make me want to hurl.  But my kids have learned the survival skill of "appearing to have it together."  The "keep it under control" coping mechanism is well-honed in these three.  So, when their anxiety bubbles up to overflow, it comes out as misbehavior. Bossing people around.  Stubborn refusal to do what is asked.  Explosive frustration.  Stomping aways muttering under their breath or screaming "I hate this family!"

 

So, I learned to sit them down and talk through the event, what might happen, what kinds of feelings they might encounter, what kinds of food there might be, what people usually do, what people usually say, why people do these things.  I let them know how not a big deal it is.  I think of everything I might have worried about when I was 10 or 11 and try to prepare them for that.  I remind them that they are safe, and loved, and this thing is just for fun, or it is to honor and respect someone, and here are the good manners you'll need.  I tell them ways to make it fun.  I tell them we've got their back.

 

I've come to understand that almost every time one of my kids is misbehaving, it is because they are worried about something.  Medical procedures, trips in the car, visits to people we don't know, someone coming to visit.  Everything that is not routine. Everything that makes them think maybe they don't have any control over the situation. 

 

They have been home for almost three years now.  Last week, we attended my dad's memorial service.  Laird coached them a lot in the car on the way to Pennsylvania. Rediet has some "selfish brat" moments in the morning, but nothing huge.  At the service, they were respectful, they participated, they had feelings and sought comfort, and they listened.  They were amazing.  My dad would be proud.

 

(Tonight, I'll add the video of the 18 grandkids tribute to their granddad.)

 

Simple Meals for the Busy Family

aka Grab-n-Go or the Four Bin Food System
A healthy, eco-friendly alternative to depending on fast food restaurants in the age of travel soccer

I have four athletic kids.  Three of them are on travel soccer teams.  Three different teams.  And one is a senior in high school who plays varsity volleyball and lacrosse.  We have practices and/or games almost every day of the week in the fall.  Plus school and work.  Yes, we are a little crazy.  But, we are also fun.  We are game.  Our kids are much happier when they get lots of physical activity. So we Do. It. All.  When we signed up the third kid for the third travel soccer team, I had a moment of panic.  I pictured us going through the dreaded tunnel under the big yellow M every night of the week due to lack of time and planning.  I screamed inside.  Noooooooooooo!  I am organica mom.  I am happy chicken, grass-fed beef, free-range eggs, and farm-fresh veggies from the lovely folks at Backbone Food Farm and Round Right Farm.  I gag when forced to use styrofoam and single-use anything. I ride my bike to Farmers Market, people. I cannot drive my "Be a Localvore" bestickered soccer-mom van through the exhaust-ridden (oh how convenient!) bastions of high-calorie, low-value, too-little-love, consumeable ill health packages.  (Have you seen how huge those cups of HFCS-colored acid water are getting to be???)

My Slow Food Vehicle

So, I needed to come up with a system.  I woke up the next morning with a picture of a fridge full of home-cooked food that could be thrown down the gullets of the athletes as they run out the front door.  Brilliant!

Step 1: Get the bins

Find two two-quart containers and two four-quart containers.  I bought Rubbermaid BPA-free containers at Kroger because I knew if I waited until I went to a kitchen store or Target or ordered them online, I would lose my momentum.  Rubbermaid also makes glass ones with lids, and Pyrex makes some glass containers with lids. My bins are square and stack really well.  Create space inside your fridge for these containers to be stacked at all times. You’ll also need a place to store bread and muffins outside the fridge. An area in the fridge where you keep packages of tortillas is also a good idea.

Step 2: Fill the bins

In the beginning, you’ll need to devote a half-day or so to filling up the containers mainly because the first time you do it, you’ll think it will take way longer than it actually takes. You can either fill up all the containers every weekend, or fill each one as it is emptied.  For example, if you run out of rice on Wednesday, just cook a batch of rice and refill it on Wednesday night or Thursday morning.  Whenever any container gets close to running out, figure out what you’ll cook to fill it up again, and the time you will be able to do so.

Container 1 (four-quart): Grain or legume (lentils, people)

Container 2 (two-quart):  Meat or beans
Container 3 (two-quart): Cooked veggies
Container 4 (four-quart): Salad greens 
Breadbox: bread, muffins, and/or rolls

Some examples

Grains and/or Legumes:  Rice, cous cous, quinoa, barley, pasta; lentils, split peas, yellow peas (mix two for variety and complementary proteins)

Sometimes, I add some peas or other veggie to this so the kids who don’t tend to eat a variety of veggies get some by default.  The trick is not to overwhelm the grain with too much of the veggie.

Meat or beans:  Roast a chicken or other meat and slice, cut into small pieces, or shred OR Soak beans overnight, then cook and season to taste. Other options: hard-boiled eggs, nuts, and cheese.

Cooked veggies:  Pick the ones that are in season, cut them up, and steam or roast them with simple seasonings. 

Salad greens:  Pick out the ones that look good, wash, spin, and tear into small pieces.  Store with a paper towel to absorb extra water.  Sometimes I just cut up a bunch of carrots and celery for this bin.  Store in water; drain to serve, fill up again to store.

Bread:  Buy yummy bread from the local bakery, and/or make muffins or rolls. Also have tortillas on hand because if the kid needs to grab food and go, wrapping it up in a tortilla will save on messes in the car and prevents the sad loss of dishes and silverware.  New Day Bakery makes our family go around the table "I'm grateful for..." list on a regular basis.  I don't know about you, but for me, one of the best things in life is Good Bread. I don't get to bake bread often with my work and soccer mom schedule, so I spend good money on good bread.

Additions:  kids can add grated cheese, sour cream, or condiments, as desired. 

Step 3: Kid Training

Show the kids the containers and tell them about how the containers will be filled with food and kept in the fridge.  Tell them that each container will be filled soon after it is emptied and washed. To make a meal, a person should pick the kind of bread they want and at least three of the other items.  Show them what one-third to one-half cup looks like, and tell them to put about that much of each chosen item on their roll or in their bowl.  No fair taking two cups of rice, one chunk of chicken and a lettuce leaf!  Also, condiments are not to be piled on to make the taste of the food disappear!  A dollop of sour cream, not a half cup!  A sprinkling of cheese, not two handfuls.  Watch kids the first few times, and help them understand that a variety of foods is how they will get all the nutrients they need.  Teach them about “complete proteins.”

Also, put a calendar menu on the fridge.  Decide which nights will be “get your own” and which nights will be sit-down together meals. Be sure to have kids check the menu before they get their own meal. It might help to have a reference page posted above the counter where people will make their meals.

Have containers on hand for packing grab-n-go meals.  The plastic ones from some Chinese restaurants are a good size, sturdy, easy to eat from, and can be reused many times. By the way, don't use plastic in the microwave!  I store containers with the lids on, even though it takes up more room, because it saves precious time when we are in the grab stage of grab-n-go. In the car(s), be sure to have a roll of paper towels, some wet wipes, and a garbage bag.  In the kitchen, you could have pre-packed meal bags that contain a spoon and fork, a cloth napkin, and a mint.  The kid makes dinner in the plastic container, grabs one of the bags, and goes.  When done eating, just place the container in the bag and bring it all in the house when you get home.  There could be a small laundry basket in the kitchen so the bag gets unpacked right away – rinse and stack dishes and silverware, put cloth stuff in the laundry basket.  You could make fabric bags for this.  In your dreams. No, really, you could.  My kids just throw their food in the front pocket of their soccer bags.

Also, each person should have a BPA-free water bottle to fill and take everywhere.  Camelbak makes a sturdy one in different sizes and colors.  Each person can have a different color so everyone can keep track of their own source of water.  Kids going to athletic events will probably need more water than fits in one water bottle, so having big water container in the car for refills or having extra water bottles is a good idea.

And, remember; always have a book with you.  Everywhere you go.  Because you never know when mom will decide to sit and read in the car while the rain comes down on the soccer field instead of driving all the home and back again and you have to wait for your brother and sister sitting in the boring car. Hmph.

Step 4: Gratitude

The beauty of this system for me is that I can cook when I feel like cooking.  Yes, there are times I actually want to cook.  They are generally NOT at 4:30 pm after rushing home from work to hurry and get in the car to go to drop off H and A at LP fields, take R to get new cleats, pick up J from practice, pick up H and A from soccer practice and go home to get kids in the shower and to bed. I can cook after the kids go to bed, I can cook at six in the morning while I sip my coffee.  I can cook when it is time to clean out the fridge.  And my kids are still getting to eat healthy, home-cooked, good food.  Nothing makes me feel like a failure as a mom more often watching my kids scarf down crappy, chemical-laden, processed, automated food that came through the window of my car.  This is my personal version of the Slow Food Movement, thank you very much. 

The system in practice

I didn’t plan to cook this morning, but this is what I did when I woke up at six.  Tomorrow night is three-kids-at-soccer-and-one-kid-at-volleyball night.  Two bins were empty and in the dish drainer.  (See, this is a visible signal to me that cooking needs to happen.)  My partner is away, the kids have no school, and we are going away this weekend so the fridge needed to be cleaned out.  

First, I put on the rice. Six cups of water and three cups of rice cook up to fill a four-quart bin very nicely.  You might make your coffee first, but for some reason, I had the presence of mind to start the rice, then make the coffee.  Someday, I'll follow my partner around the kitchen and tell you how to make the perfect cup of coffee.  Today, I fended for myself.

Then I snapped the beans and put them in the steamer. 

I wanted to put some protein in a bin, but I forgot about soaking the beans last night. Since I'm going away this weekend, I don't want to get into the beans or meat work.  (Flexiblity is one key to happiness!)   I found some split peas in the pantry. I can hide some of those little green lovelies in the rice.  Well, not hide exactly, but mix in a way that prevents the children from avoiding them completely.  Mwaa haaa haaaa...  I was going to just throw them in with rice, but figured I should read the instructions first.  I had to put my glasses on... okay... I'm fifty... whatever.  Found out I needed eight cups of water for two cups of peas, so it's a good thing I didn't just throw them in with the rice.  That is them on the back left burner... cooking up in all their evil greenness. This, my friends, is cooking by the seat of my pants. 

Next, I sipped coffee and relished the quiet house. Then I chopped up lots of onions and about the same amount of squash.  My Ethiopian kids LOVE onions.  Threw in some salt, pepper, and chili pepper.  Oh yeah, garlic, too.  Lots of garlic. Helen is going to squeal with delight when she wakes up smelling these onions.

The other two bins already had some raw veggies, so I got them out for the photo op.  I had to put the green beans in one of my handy Pyrex dishes.  I could have chopped them up and added them to the rice or the onions and squash, but I use the grab-n-go for my lunches at work. I love plain green beans.  A mom needs to take care of herself, too.

See how nicely they fit in the fridge? 

This is a lesson in abundance.  It helps heal my Ethiopian kids' food-power issues from living in a children's home for five years and not having any choices around food at all. And mine, too.  My mom had a lot of rules around food, because her mom did.  Cycle of food stress.  I'm trying to break it.  This four-bin food system is one of my tools.  It works well for now. 

My boys are cooking up some breakfast and they just made me a second cup of coffee.  Life is Good.

Instead of painting a room while Laird is away...

...I have updated my blog. Ms. Reality Check (I visit her in the mirror) said to me, "Face it, Ms. Soccer-x3-Volleyball-Scientist Mom, you do not have the time-energy-discipline to Write That Book.  Good ideas, yeah, but writing a book and getting it published is a Huge Project, huger than a PhD, Sweetie, so until your kids # 4, 5 and 6 are in college, you need to put that thing on hold."

Now, I have to respect the chick in the mirror, even if she does talk in run-on sentences.  So... I am going to focus my creative effots into this low-maintenaince, instant-gratification vehicle of expression... the blog. So, I said yes to the updated blogger interface, and I said yes to a new template, and I am saying Yes to me.  I am accepting my current Lifestyle and committing to working within my mom parameters to get what I need. I know there are some issues (like the one gadget on the right has blue font that is unreadable...) and I am working on that as I re-learn my way around.

Meanwhile, since it is now past time to get the kids up for church... I give you this latest picture of Helen (13), Rediet (13), and Abel (11).   (The room in the background is the room I painted last year while Laird was away.)



And... Jordan (17) with her new lovee:

Tegan (almost 21! with the world at her feet)

And Ben (27, with the world in his back pocket)

Coming soon:

The Grab-n-Go System... healthy food, and lots of it, for the busy family.  I've got four athletes and this is how I keep them fed.  Recipes, too!

Living With People 101: a series of lessons in getting along and building relationships without going carzy, plus teaching kids how to Live With People.

Things That Work: short entries about sustainable products of value, family practices, and phrases for various occasions.  Oh yeah, and my favorite restaurants and places of business.

My Heroes:  short stories of my favorite people in the world, mostly ordinary folks I know who live extraordinary lives.

scone on,
Barbarita

Day six: a photo of someone you love

Someone I love: God in us.
God as in God=Love, God=Peace, God=Joy
The One
The Divine in Each One of Us
That drive for justice that rises up from deep in the core of each of us.
That place in each of our souls that creates
music out of suffering,
art out of hunger,
dance out of nothing,
song out of Hope.

I have been wondering what discipline to practice for Lent. I have a long list of changes I'd like to make. More walking, less junk food, more meditation, less complaining, more breathing. But nothing felt like the commitment I need to make right now. None of my wishes for a better me would have any real effect on the world except that a better me makes a better world in a tiny way.

Someone sent me a link to Stand by Me this morning, recorded by Playing for Change Foundation. I had seen it before. It is my favorite version of that song. This foundation uses the universal language of music and great recording technology to bring people together and to create positive change in the world. So, I decided that each day of Lent this year, I will be giving up something I would spend money on that day, and collecting that money in an envelope to send to this Foundation. Today, it will be the latte that I usually bring back to work when I go out to lunch.

So, today's picture is this video. I love all these people. Especially the dancing children, the little girl in the pink dress, and the little one with hands folded in prayer. I love Tamika in NYC whose voice is the most beautiful voice I have ever heard. And I love the talented hands and ears and hearts behind the scenes, collecting all this video, and splicing it together in layers to make such a beautiful collaborative piece of magical song as if it is the richest treasure in all the earth.



You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.

...

Not Feeling It Anymore

We all know that money, don't buy you love
You just get a job and somewhere to live
You have to look for happiness, within yourself
And don't go chasin' thinkin' that it is somewhere else
-Van Morrison


Here's what I'm not feeling anymore:
my job
spending my life energy
supporting Coal
the burning of coal
the mining of coal
sure, we fund research that finds ways
to burn it cleaner
but seriously

I would GLADLY give up
half of the electricity I use
RIGHT NOW
in exchange for
the END of COAL Mining and COAL Burning

I would LOVE to need to light the candles
as the sun goes down
tell stories, make our own music,
or hey, Go To Bed
I would LOVE to be forced
to hang clothes and sheets and towels
out in the open air to dry
To Do with Less
to make soup on the wood stove
(of course, this would require that we have a wood stove we can cook on)
to be forced to repair that antique treadle sewing machine
in order to make coal-free clothes

I would love to do all of this
knowing
no more mountains were being destroyed
no more miners were being killed
no more lungs were suffering
for the energy that goes into my industry

But as long as I am expected
to Keep Up the Pace
I can't find enough time in each day
to do these things by choice

So... today... upon discovering this Van Morrison song
on a cd that I ordered
mistakenly
(I wanted disc two and accidently ordered disc 1)
playing it on my coal-fired stereo
while my coal-fired lights were burning
drinking my coal-fired coffee
I realized that I need to make the life I want
(yes, again)

here I am:
I will write the books that are waiting to be born
I will create the cool community science center

It will take me a few years
maybe ten
(not 200)
but I will leave coal behind

Laird is going to build us an off the grid house
it will have a tiny tiny house surrounded by trees
where I will write
encouraging words
and create events to help people
be scientifically literate
because that is what I do

and I swear
I will
make dresses
on that treadle machine

copyright Barbara L. Walker
Morgantown WV October 2010

we interrupt this poem to bring you this important message

mile 4

breaking trail
through three feet of powder
after hours of driving
snow drifted roads
including helping out an oil-thirsty Volvo

we skied one mile

of course, we could have driven a mere 15 minutes
to ski for three hours at the amazingly snowy Cooper's Rock
but by golly we had planned for a day at Whitegrass
with dear friends up from North Carolina
and we were going to get our full van there

until the roads closed
the ski resorts closed
and the National Guard was called in

change of plans change of plans
now we have some new friends
and huge smiles

yes, the thirsty Volvo had an Obama sticker
another that said War leaves all children behind
inside were two engaging people
crazy as we are to go climb a mountain in the blizzard
new friends
laugh and be amazed
as we left their cabin in the woods
the children said "we will miss you!"

worth the drive
I say
worth the drive

mile 2 and mile 3

mile 2

I walk away from work on the trail
beyond the place where the snow plow stopped
fenced in on government property
with lots of trees
just up the hill from the river
across which is the mouth of a coal mine
oh industry

it's not quiet
but I am still

animal tracks in the snow
to and from
my commitment to comfortable shoes
pays off

for the first time in months
it seems
I feel the pound of my heart
in my head

I don't want to go back


mile 3

meetings going too long
missed a walk with Fran
then later missed another
in the hopes of getting one item
off my desk
so I can send the request
for permission to take a day
to use my earned leave time
spend a day
having fun

a truck blocking the way to the gym
the kids insisted
it's not far! let's walk!
in the snow, falling on the ice
we laugh, we slide our way
together

poem in progress

40 miles for Lent

g-d said
don’t give up
anything for me
girl, you need to give in
give in to you
give to you
I want you to walk
40 miles not for me
for you
walk 40 miles for you
remember who you are


mile 1

almost a week after Ash Wednesday
I am a slug
for five days I have been intending
pretending
excusing myself from myself
justifying my sluggy ways
with the noblest of justifications
work children sleep food

true, I have been eating less
I have been refusing seconds
I have thought briefly about ending
my torrid love affair with white sugar
revised the brief thought
consider simply reducing white sugar
to a bit part
knowing chocolate is mostly sugar
knowing my daily coffees are mostly about sugar
knowing my sugar love affair is really an
addiction
that gets me through my perform!do!give!do! day
after day after day

today, I walked a mile with Fran
I would not have gone if not for her
love for motion and acceptance of slugs
a break at work
on a trail half plowed
three quarters into it
I finally saw the trees
the bluebirds

took a deep breath

it is February not yet Spring
still
I begin




copyright Barbara L. Walker 2010

Really

Got a new haircut. Well, actually, I did it. I took the buzzers, and I went at it. Then Laird helped. And it is not pretty. But, it was free. And fast. And easy. And it is real. Picture later.

Which leads me to Becky's post. Read it.

And after that, go read the one about the party she and Brandy had where everyone wore wedding dresses or bride's maid dresses. The plan some kinda real, fun party for your friends. Because life is short. And real sucky sometimes.

(Whoops, I'm going to have to pay someone 25 cents for saying that. The word "sucks" has been pre-emptively banned in our house.)