Cooperative Games

A very short post-

I like a little competition, but as a child I found some games too competitive. I still don't like Monopoly or checkers or chess. Yet, I've never really enjoyed the feel good, no one loses, cooperative children's games I've played.

Recently, friends taught us a new game, and we lost because Phaedra just wouldn't cooperate. I was actually enjoying the game, and maybe if we played it more, we'd figure out how to win. But even with us explaining to her that we needed her to make a certain move in order for us to win, she simply would not do it. Cooperation is not her strong suit.

The Trouble With Cats

When Ezra turned seven, we got a cat. We had cats in Texas, but the idea of moving a cat across the country was a little scary. Our cat at that time was less than a year old, and the lady across the street really wanted him. It seemed like a good idea.

Ezra asked and asked for a cat from the time we moved, and two years later, we were ready to have one, so along came Sol-leks. And Sol-leks is an odd bird, but a wonderful cat. He never scratches, he loves to be cuddled, he seemed to intuit the purpose of the litter box. But, he IS an odd bird. And this is why- he is petrified of loud noises.

Yes, yes, I know all cats dislike loud noises, but this fear of his goes beyond the pale. In fact, the first time he disappeared, it was because of some house construction going on outside the house.

That was two falls back, and we were very sad, but you know, that kind of happens with cats. It's not that I think they're disposable; it's just that they are independent enough to make a few of their own decisions, and sometimes that means they relocate themselves or escape outside at dark.

So, about a month later, Phaedra announced, apropos of nothing, that she had a hole in her heart where Sol-Leks used to be. Maybe some of you would have comforted her and let it go, but I got her another cat. His name is Cecil.

And two weeks later, Sol-Leks came back.

After that, we did not worry much if Sol-leks disappeared for a day or two. And Phaedra and Cecil were each other's favorites and all has been right with the world. At least until two weeks ago.

That's when Cecil disappeared. And now it seems that hole reopened in Phaedra's heart which we will be filling with another cat.

Fashion Plates?

Before Sylvie was born, I decided to sew the diapers we would use. After tears and screams of frustration, Jason decided it was time for me to have a new machine. That's when this entered my life. It changed my sewing life. When it died a couple of weeks back, I replaced it with the same model. The children wondered whether they might use this motor-less machine as a crank machine. I said sure, and Phaedra set to work.

She has sewed and sewed, spinning the wheel that drives the machine, making a doll many new outfits. I have been surprised by her innovations as she figures out how to assemble clothes. She asked almost no questions once she figured out how to thread the machine and fill a bobbin.

As I watched her, I remembered a toy my grandmother kept for us to use at her house. It was these plastic shapes that you set over a doll form. You could then make paper dolls using these shapes to create paper outfits of different textures. Anyone else remember Fashion Plates? Anyway, I thought about how much she might enjoy that. 

Fortunately, I watched a little longer and realized she was doing something much better. She's learning how buttons and buttonholes work. She's learning how clothing COULD be assembled. And how different fabric acts. And how seams can look. And how to ornament clothes. And a thousand other things. She is not limited to a set of six textures and designs, but instead only to the dribs and drabs of my sewing box plus what she has collected. It's a pretty good selection.

Also, she's feeling empowered to actually sew. There's no pattern telling her she's right or wrong. She's learning the mechanics of sewing with only her doll to please, and the doll continues to smile contentedly.

I'm glad I curbed my impulse to "enrich" her activity.

What I See

Look! We have a rain barrel. It catches from about ten feet of gutter and it completely filled in a storm. I was able to water the trees and cow and chickens with this and another rain barrel. I got to play with the kids with a siphon.

There are blackberries in the hills, but we've only picked enough to graze on. The canes at the north end of the garden have been a challenge all summer and I'm trying to think of a way to have them that close without them being such a bother.

Ezra made three gallons of bubbles and he has been constructing bubble cities with them. It's amazing to me how long he can spend building something ephemeral.

Elmer and Nico are the best of friends. You might note that Elmer is patiently awake in this picture. Nico is sound asleep.

A view of our kitchen- abundant tomatoes, bread rising, empty jars, cluttered counter, and the doll ever at the ready.

There is now a swing set at our house. We're not convinced of its stability but it's lasted a week. I'm repeatedly surprised about the amount of joy swings can bring to our children's lives. We had agreed that it was time to devote a weekend to a project for them, and I think it was a weekend well-spent.

Here are a few of the flowers blooming around our house right now. These are zinnias, cosmos, and borage. I still do not like how the borage tastes- it's nothing like cucumber. The pink one is bee balm, and it has a tangy smell. The hummingbirds seem to particularly like it and the borage.

The mammoth sunflowers are getting very tall. The shorter varieties have already begun to open. I love the really tall ones because I remember my grandfather growing them. (He also grew blackberries.)

This bed is the most beautiful to me. I think the asparagus and raspberries look very happy, and I like their long, trailing tendencies.

Here are the baby Brussels sprouts. My cabbage crops look pretty bad this year. I'm not sure what I did wrong. I saw a friend's cabbages last night and mine are a tenth of the size of hers. Maybe it'll be better next year. Also, my beets are not looking as good as hers. I think I'll plant beets and carrots in a more traditional way next year.

Berry Picking time

We went today for a first round of berry picking. After calling around, I found out about an organic pick-your-own in Plainfield called Littlewood Farm. In the past, we picked organic berries at Adam's Berry Farm; we really like Adam's, but it is so far away now that it feels too onerous.

Littlewood Farm was a very nice place to pick berries. The field was well-maintained (as in, we did not have to sort through the weeds to find the berries). The people were friendly, and the spot is lovely. It was also not too busy and was bursting with ripe strawberries. We picked 2.5 flats of berries in about 1.5 hours.

The children were very helpful. Ezra picked 3 quarts to every six I picked, Phaedra picked two to my six, and Sylvie picked 1 quart total. The thing I used to dream about is finally true. I was able to pick berries without stopping every 20 seconds to ride herd on one child or another, and I did not have to pick all the berries myself. Sylvie picked slowly, sampling as she went, and talked to all the other pickers. I kept thinking about Dudley Pippin, and I wondered what all she was telling about our family. Phaedra announced,"Sylvie is making friends again!", and then Phaedra jumped Sylvie's train. Sylvie would start talking, and then Phaedra would chime in. I worried that they were bothering people, but they seemed to share the wealth of their conversation evenly, and no one seemed bothered. Most even seemed a little charmed. Ezra focused on picking in a very bird-like way. He would pick three berries on one row, then wander two rows over and pick five, then move down twenty feet and pick one more. It was very aggravating to watch, so I quit looking, and he was obviously picking plenty fast.

Toward the end, Ezra regaled us with poetry. It started when Phaedra and I were trying to remember "Custard the Dragon", and Ezra began to help us. We did pretty well. Then, Ezra launched into "One Winter Night in August" and "Isabel". It was a delight to have poetry recited as we picked.

Then, Jason and I capped berries tonight. We'll do one more round of picking, because I owe a few jars of jam. So, once we've all the berries, we'll make jam. Then we can sing, "If you want the best Jam, you got to make your own."

Sharing

Phaedra does not willingly share.  It's always been true.  When she started wanting things around 8 or 9 months old, Ezra gave them to her.  He would look a bit befuddled and hand them over.  As Sylvie has gotten older, she has gone out of her way to give Phaedra whatever Phaedra asks for.  If I step in, Ezra and Sylvie get more upset than Phaedra when I insist she share.  Phaedra DOES get upset, but the wisdom of Solomon will not work; she would rather throw the doll in the fire than have to share or return it to the rightful owner.  So what am I to do?

On good days, I quietly acknowledge when there's a problem and leave it to them to work it out.  On bad days, I wade right in and make the situation much worse.  And I rarely miss an opportunity to try to show Phaedra how sharing helps all of us.

So, the other day, I had a new hat, and Sylvie asked to wear it.  I said sure, I would share.  Phaedra then asked, "Why doesn't anyone EVER share hats with me?"  After a few moments to reflect on the absurdity of this statement, I replied, "Phaedra, it's hard to share with you, because once someone agrees to share, you get to decide when and how the shared item will be used.  And, any time the other person wants to use the shared item, it's suddenly your turn."

She didn't like this.  She explained how I made her sad, and I of course said greediness makes everyone sad.  I felt like I had finally made some headway.

Then, many hours later, she came to me and said, "Mama, I know I don't share things, but I share what I do.  I always show people how to do things or help them."

So, her humbled mother offers these photos as proof that my 7-year-old is not greedy with her self, and that is perhaps the greatest thing she has to share.