Staying put

The world of the house and home is occupying much of my thought at the moment. For a couple of years now the drama of trying to sell our house has rolled on and on. First we dreamed of a old servant's quarters that had caught our eye further up the valley, but our little cottage languished on the market for a year with no takers. The house we'd been coveting was eventually bought by another family and we took ours off the market. Then out of the blue someone asked if they could buy our home; we looked about but couldn't find another that suited us better. We vowed to stay put and invest in our old weaver's cottage with her rattly windows and woodland at the door but, towards the the end of last year, someone whispered in our ear about a house that might be right for us. Modest and modern, lacking the romance of weather-whipped stone and old floorboards but with a garden brimming with flowers and fruit and some extra room for a growing family. It sits a few doors away, on either side, from beloved friends and would provide gangs of wild and roving children for our boys to join. It is not the little small-holding I hoped that we would one day have but a chance to tend a garden again would certainly have been a gift.

Unfortunately this little house of ours is not ready to release us from our obligations. Although there have been people willing to fall in love with it and its handsome views - problems have been discovered by a string of searching surveys. Men have come into our home with their clipboards and tape measures; she has been probed and prodded , her petticoats lifted and her secrets exposed. Our buyers have drifted away, too daunted by her many needs.

It seems we must stay where we are; the choice has been taken away from us. This feels an odd position to be in; we're told in our modern capitalist world that choice is almost a birthright so when our options are taken away it's hard not to feel frustrated and a little trapped. In working through this situation we find ourselves in, I've been trying to remind myself that choice is a privilege granted only to a small percentage of the globe, that many of the world's families live in one or two meagre rooms. Rather than regretting what cannot be I need to try and embrace what is; cultivate contentment and practice gratefulness.

Eli and Monty do this instinctively, the consumerist mentality having not yet tainted their young lives. They look at us and ask 'why would we live anywhere else? This is our home' And as with so many things, these children of ours show us the way...

Ruminating on educating

As it's the beginning of a new academic term, my thoughts have naturally turned to our own educational arrangements. A couple of friends are facing those big decisions about whether to go mainstream or seek alternatives and our conversations have touched on the home education option. It seems like a good moment to look back at our first term and share some thoughts and observations about the business.

It's probably too much waffling for one post, so I imagine I'll spin it out a bit - by which time I'll hopefully have got back into the swing of blogging a bit more regularly.

The decision to home educate is not made lightly. Even I, who had decided almost from Eli's first month that he would not be entrusted to the state for his upbringing, felt some self-doubt creep in when it came to the end of his short time at the local Steiner kindergarten. I hadn't ever properly taken on board the very obvious fact that almost everyone sends their children to school. It is not only expected, it is largely unquestioned.

It seems that the general consensus is that school, whilst not necessarily the ideal option, is the safest. The practical considerations alone give rise to enough consternation to prevent treading another path - bringing in enough money whilst having children at home; not feeling that one has enough resources of energy to be around ones offspring constantly; not having the requisite support network and so on and so on. I am familiar with these anxieties, it can seem logistically impossible before you even get to the education bit.

I think our real fears kick in when we get to our children's well-being and future prospects. Will our children learn all they need to know from primarily being with one person, perhaps two at the most? Will they need more social contact than we can provide for them? How will they learn to read????

These questions and worries are valid and real. A certain amount of self-confidence and a sizeable rebellious streak are useful when contemplating them. I cannot speak for others or offer any sureties but I can share our experience and add to the growing numbers of people who say that school doesn't have to be the only way.

Into Autumn

Autumn. Is there a season more written about? It's such a nostalgic, wistful time of the year. As we feel the first licks of cold around bare necks, as our feet catch a few fallen crisps of colour, as our breath takes its  smoky form in the still of the morning, we are pulled from one season into another. I almost feel ready for the shift, almost ready for boots and blankets, scarves and soup. Almost.  

Hips, haws and berries are gleaming in the hedgerows just now and my little one's mouths have been often stained purple from blackberry bingeing. On returning from walks our pockets and bags have been heavy with harvests of foraged fruit. We've made use of the elderberries already and I'm hoping to gather enough rose hips to make a vitamin c rich syrup...on Richard Mabey's advice Eli tried raw Hawthorn berries but reported that they didn't taste a bit like sweet potato.

The boys and I seem to have found a little bit more of an indoor rhythm after some disharmony last week; we're taking it easy, trying not to overstretch ourselves. It's starting to feel easier to stay home and enjoy cosier activities. Our summer window display has been dismantled and the usual leaf, nut and acorn gathering can commence. We even started a little tentative seasonal crafting with some waxed leaves stuck onto transparent film; I think they look lovely with the light behind them at the window but Eli is a little disappointed that the glue is visible so we may have to try again with different materials at some point. Such a perfectionist my boy!

(Eli sporting his latest skate-park style - the vest.)

And so, with an extra layer or two and some berries and spices simmering on the hob, we slowly begin the season.

Fizz

I'm fairly lazy when it comes to Pinterest (the 'virtual pinboard' dontcha know?). It's a great idea - you find things of interest when you're skipping about the web, then 'pin' them for later. Other people can see what you've saved and you can see theirs, it's a veritable feast of inspiration. Great ideas for kids catch on quickly and there's a big mass sharing of wonderfully fun things to do with your children. I'm only an occasional caller to my 'boards' and I'm rubbish at putting things up, but I'm also very grateful when I find a good activity.

This one involves bicarb and vinegar, always a fun combination in mini volcanoes and model rockets. The 'how to' is simple: Mix food colouring and vinegar and drop it onto a layer of bicarbonate of soda. Much fizzing and bubbling ensues which delights and amazes. The aesthetic element to this activity was particularly satisfying; watching the yellow and blue merge into green had me getting all annoyingly educational.

  

Needless to say, the boys absolutely loved it and had we had more bicarb, we could probably have continued playing for some time. I'm looking forward to being able to add more colours next time when I've sourced some more droppers. Truly fun for all the family.

(I couldn't resist putting up a picture of these gorgeous flowers that my friends brought round from their garden...beautiful.)

At play

Before I had my own, I assumed that children instinctively knew how to play. I had a vague idea that they would potter for hours blissfully consumed by their games. This has not always been the case for our family, which has caused me some concern and a lot of learning to let go of pre-concieved ideas. Children do not always do what we think they 'should' be doing.

Many thoughts have been spent on what to do about such an unexpected thing as a play-challenged child. I have considered whether our selection of toys is too limited or whether we need more exciting playthings - would greater choice or more novelty be enough to 'fix' my percieved problem?

Now for the soap-box: I am troubled by plastic. I am troubled by how it is produced, how it is disposed of and how unquestioningly it is embraced as an essential part of our lives. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the mass consumption of plastic toys. In every home, baskets and boxes overflowing with garish coloured plastic toys, many that will be tossed away into the bin not long after they arrive as they inevitably break under the strain of play. Having the latest must-have toy means that what our children 'must have' is always changing, meaning more spending from us parents and an early instilling of our culture's throw-away mind-set in our children.

To turn our back on the vast array of toys that are available to our children is not an easy job. I know I can sometimes worry that I am denying my children 'stuff' that others have, feeling that they may be missing out somehow. I am increasingly confident however that these concerns are largely unfounded - didn't our own parents tell us that they could play for hours with nothing but a stick and a smelly rag? I believe creativity can be nurtured by a limited number of playthings, and if those things are simple and can be used in a variety of ways then all the better.

Simple wooden toys may seem unexciting at first glance but they often invite creativity. Blocks and construction sets that feel satisfyingly weighty in the hand can become robots, castles, vehicles, animals and on and on if you're five years old. We have wooden animals that are made by hand which links the child directly with the maker. Wooden toys are often beautiful and durable, two qualities that many of us would look for in products that we might purchase for ourselves.

We still have many days when the boys find it difficult to play independently - they're social animals and understandably prefer the kind of play that involves others. But, I think I'm starting to see that we could be on the right track. As they get older, the pressure will really be on to buy into more complex toys or even enter the world of the video game. When I see them hammering rods into blocks and manipulating little wooden pliers, I sigh with relief - not yet, not yet...