T-shirt Thursday

Two mornings in a row I have drunk my morning tea in the garden. Underneath the chill breeze is a warmth, a scent, a freshness and it feels as if spring might just be here. The morning DJ told me that it would be 16 degrees today and was T-shirt Thursday.
My two youngest started a Level 2 horse-riding course this morning, following last autumn's Level 1 and I was back in a place that I haven't been since early November; the first of last year's course was in September. And so, like finding forgotten train tickets in a coat long unworn, I found memories in the pockets of this morning: meeting up with the other mums and sharing something of my summer break-up; hearing that a process had been set in motion which would cause me personal pain; take up hours of my time and cause me and my children to question who we could trust; training for a half-marathon which would represent getting my life back on track after the upheaval of the previous months.
These times of re-visiting, when memories appear unbidden, allow me to reflect on the life-distance travelled in six months. New, softer and subtle emotions surface as more stormy ones blow themselves out. I find that we have passed through what felt overwhelming and survived. I find that, with the warmer air and the first daffodils, I am beginning to plan for a future on which I really believe I can stand.

New Year

Swaledale is an amazing place to be: barren, beautiful, windswept and boggy. I have run on this moor almost everyday for the last two weeks. The first day I was slipping on ice but since then the bridle paths have become stream-beds and the ground a series of marshes and puddles. I have seen stunning sunrises and bowed my head into the howling wind and rain. I walked across the moor on Christmas Day, arriving half-an-hour late to church, wet and cold with mud spattered trousers into a congregation of locals in their festive best. I have walked up Calver Hill with my three children in cutting wind and stinging hail, to come home to hot baths and hot chocolate. I saw a barn owl yesterday, swooping over the heather, day-light hunting, its wings broad and sweeping. I have laughed and cried, played games, watched films and read my book. I am tired and rested, relaxed and still-humming. This year has been tumultous and up-ending, my foundational relationships have shifted, my life will never be the same again and my view of myself has been challenged, undone and is being rebuilt. I have hopes and dreams for 2012: I am scared, insecure and excited and in many ways I feel that I have a lot of growing up to do but it looks like being a good year.

Stop

Sometimes, I am head down, getting on with life, pushing through. Sometimes, I notice. Sometimes I remember to stop. And see something unexpectedly beautiful.

Fallen branch in Richmond Park

Snow Visitors

Due to the snow we have been treated to the sight of a small flock of redwings and fieldfares around our garden. These colouful thrush-cousins first came yesterday to the tall walnut trees behind our back fence but have now discovered the heavily berry-laden bushes across the road. I have spent much of this afternoon with my binoculars trained on my neighbour's front lawn and I do hope that she does not think I am spying! It is a joy to be able to see some unusual birds close up from the comfort of my own kitchen. The crowd of birds is around ten to fifteen strong and it is delightful to see them pull the orange and red treats from the branches and swallow them whole. Seeing them together it is very easy to tell the difference: fieldfares are noticeably larger and have much grumpier faces, they also lack the red patch which gives their companions their name. I would like to try to tempt them into our own, berry-free garden and the field-guide I have suggests they are fond of 'windfall apples'. Not having any windfalls, I fear that it may be a bit of waste to throw out the fresh, supermarket variety, and not very popular with my budget conscious husband or my fruit-eating son. Perhaps I will just go fill the bird-bath with water and put out some bread-crusts and sunflower seeds.

Snake in the grass

While we were staying at my mum's, my little girl came rushing in to the house, 'Mummy, mummy, there's a snake in the garden!' I followed her out quickly, half-expecting to find a hose-pipe, a long stick or a big worm. However, she was both right and truthful and there was, indeed, a snake in the garden. It had, apparently 'rustled' out of a small bush. It may not have been much compared to the kind of rattlers my California resident brother sees regularly on hikes, but I was impressed. I checked it for the diamond pattern which would indicate it was an adder and therefore venomous and, assured that it was only a harmless grass snake, proceeded to get some photos. As soon as we retreated to the other end of the garden it slithered out of its ineffectual hiding place and into a shrub. I saw it later, bathing in the pond, but did not catch a glimpse of it again. No doubt its quiet idyll of garden and pond was somewhat disrupted by the presence of three energetic and cork-boat-building children. I expect it has breathed a sigh of relief and, hopefully, is enjoying its once again child-free home.

Albury Downs

Yesterday we went out for a family walk. This is not something we've done before, the suggestion of a walk usually being greeted with groans and moans. However, inspired by the book 'Nature's Playground', we thought we'd give it a try. We took a compass and butterfly books, as well as juice cartons for a half-way stop but none of these were needed. We took snacks and had two quick breaks. The highlight, however, was a spotting sheet, dreamt up over lunch, typed and laminated and ticked off with dry-wipe markers. We assigned a points system: 2 points for each dog spotted, 1 for a butterfly, 2 if we could name it and so on. We met 12 dogs in the last five minutes which boosted the scores! We also gave points for spotting way-markers, with the result that the children kept their eyes peeled for the signs and I didn't feel wholly responsible for finding the route. The two youngest carried sheets and scored around 130 points each, which seemed to satisfy them in itself. My daughter carried the camera and stopped to take two shots:

The whole thing took one and a quarter hours, which was about right for a first foray and to keep enthusiasm levels up. This is definitely something we'll be doing again.

Shhh, can you hear the ...

We sorted through our year's work and filed it neatly yesterday. When Dad got home from work, we sat in the garden with tea and treats, showed off the files and shared some of their poetry. The children read short cards which they had written to me about the year gone and we delcared it The Summer Holidays!

So today, my eldest is setting himself some writing goal to further his career as a novelist and the two 'little ones' are glued to the laptop watching children's tv on CBBC i-player.

I took a puzzle and a coffee outdoors. I could hear the aeroplanes as they hauled themselves into the sky from Heathrow airport and set off over my head, I could hear an agitated squirrel and some happy birds. I could also hear a faint, yet persistent, rasping noise. Unable to figure out what it could be, I determined to track it down. In a large plant next to the decking, I could see a gathering of snails. The sound drew me in their direction and eventually I honed it down to one particular individual. Watching it closely I could actually see it extending its head (do snails have heads?) and drawing it back over the leaf. I could hear the snail eating!

I have to say, that's not a sound I have ever heard before!

Insects

We've had a bit of an insect themed week. Strictly speaking, not just insects but all things creepy-crawly. It started with this colouring competition I came across to colour in outlines of butterflies. I was very impressed with my daughter's peacock:and my middle son's rendition of a tortoiseshell: This gave me the idea of watching the whole of the David Attenborough series "Life in the Undergrowth" which is fascinating and repelling in equal amounts. There is something disturbing about wasps laying their eggs inside other creatures! We saw some colourful dragonflies (or damselflies, they didn't stop still enough for us to tell) at Bedfont Lakes yesterday and we also have some bumblebees of our own:
And to cap it all, we found a whole nest's worth of baby spiders on the outside table:

Friendship on the net

Another of my favourite blogs is Restoration Place, where Kathy has posted about a bird she had spotted in their garden. Kathy's blog is always full of wonderful pictures of where she lives and what she gets up to as she Home Educates her family.

I've never met Kathy, although we do exchange the occasional e-mail, yet I would count her as a friend. I feel sure that if she lived nearer we would hang out together, chatting over tea and cake, discussing our faith, our children, our Home Ed.

I've never told Kathy this, but she was an answer to prayer. I don't have many close Home Ed friends. I know a whole bunch of mums who Home Educate that I get on really well with and a couple I would count as good friends but, for one reason or another, it is hard to hook up with them often. I've also had some Home Ed friends who have returned to their native lands (although I don't think that was too much to do with me!) At one point I prayed very specifically for a friend, someone who would walk alongside me on this journey ... and I discovered Kathy's blog. It wasn't quite what I was expecting as the answer.

Sometimes I worry that I spend too much time on blogs but it meets a need for me. By the nature of busy lives, children at home and the distance between myself and my friends, to sit and have an undisturbed catch-up time is very rare. I can read a blog, and post on my own, any time that suits me. Real time interruptions don't disturb the flow of the virtual communication. I can share worries, ideas, joys and experiences.

So when I saw Kathy's post this morning, I knew exactly what I would do if she were there in my kitchen. "Oh yes," I'd say, " I saw a great bird yesterday too. We had a jay hopping around our climbing frame (My middle son especially likes jays.) And I jumped up from what I was doing, grabbed my 'phone and got a shot. Look here it is!"

October Roses

(This is a scheduled post. I am on retreat until 25th October.)

Gardening

I am not a keen gardener. I would love to be and I watch Gardeners' World with fascination; I dream of a thriving vegetable plot, a productive cut flower patch and beds of glorious colour. However, I lack knowledge, motivation and any idea what to do. Gina is my gardening angel and she was back again yesterday to help me out. Gina is the most encouraging person I know and I always feel less useless when I am around her. My daughter enjoys her company too.One plant I am very fond of and have long desired to have in the garden is a Japanese Maple or Acer. My dad kindly gave me the money for one for my last birthday but I had held off buying until I knew where I was going to put it. A few weeks ago, I caved in and bought one. As is was very rainy at the time and I knew Gina was coming soon I did nothing at all with it. When its leaves began to curl, I assumed that this was an Autumnal thing. However, Gina tells me that I have failed to water it (which I guess I kind of knew!) and that it is shedding its leaves in a effort to survive. Here, in the middle of the lawn you can see the Acer, still in it's pot: And here it is now, finally in the ground, hopefully beginning to recover.
I post this in faith that next Summer I will be able to post a picture of a glorious Japanese Maple in my garden!

What sort of Spider?

Both Kathy and JoVE asked if I had identifed the spider I found. I was surprised at myself that it had not even occured to me to think what sort it was. I guess my two spiders have been around the extension room (which serves as both study and utility room) for such a long time that I've got quite used to them. My field guide didn't have anything that looked similar and so I had a quick look on Google and I have come to the conclusion that it's just a house spider. At first, when I looked at the pictures I thought, 'That's not it because mine isn't hairy,' but then I fetched the matchbox to have another look and in fact it is quite hairy. (Hairy, rather than furry, I'm not tempted to stroke it!) The skin (or should that be 'exoskeleton'?) doesn't have any markings, but now I'm wondering if the markings are underneath the skin and show through and as such wouldn't show on a shed skin?

Apparently,

The males are often seen scuttling across a room or falling into bath tubs as they move around in search of a female.

As I found the spider from the west end of the room in the sink but have never seen the east-end spider (the one whose skin I found) even fully out of the hole, perhaps I could assume they are a male and female - perhaps I should introduce them? Soft lighting and romantic music?

Spider

As I have mentioned before, we have two resident spiders. One lives in a hole in the back-door frame, (I guess the previous owners of the house had a cable running outside through the hole). You can see the hole on the right, just above the bolt.


In the evening, the spider sits with its front few legs sticking out of the whole, waiting, I assume, for prey to wander by. When I lock the door, the vibrations send the spider disappearing back into the hole. I must confess to sometimes jiggling the door just to watch the spider's vanishing act!

So I was a little sad to find what I at first imagined to be its corpse on the floor by the door. Always one to spot an opportunity to engage the children in a educational moment, I fetched some tweezers and a match box so they could look closely at the body. I then discovered that the spider had no middle! In fact, it was not a spider at all, just its skin! What I had taken to be the husk of a sunflower seed from the bird food caught up in the silk, was, in fact, the back of the spider, a sort of lid!

I was very impressed by my find. I love the idea of the spider extricating itself, one leg at a time and leaving this perfect replica behind. I wonder too, how I can have gone through so many years of life, presumably in houses full of spiders, and never seen one of these before.

One Fine Day

We decided to make the best of a fine Autumn day and so abandoned swimming this week in order to get some fresh air. We went to Bushy Park, which is one of my very favourite places. We are so privileged to live near somewhere so beautiful, rich in history and wildlife and open to all.
We fed the ducks, made friends with a squirrel, (a relationship facilitated by some cashew nut my middle son had stashed in his pocket),

and just enjoyed being outdoors together.

Niches

I had a couple of lovely comments on yesterday's post. Kathy spoke of finding a niche and Jo of deciding what I want to write about and then writing about it. Putting these together I realised that I was slipping into a mind set of trying to please some unknown readership, trying to reach some uncertain standard, trying to be liked. I haven't figured out my niche yet, and I don't always write about what is important to me because I am afraid, afraid of offending, afraid of being too vulnerable, afraid of what people who know me will think. I have not allowed myself to settle into my very own niche and have instead tried to define my content to beign with and have written to that specification.
I have kept very quiet about my Christian faith and the incredible journey that God has been leading me on, especially in these last months, and perhaps that is why this blog has become harder to write.
I keep very quiet about my running, another important part of my life.
Since term started my husband has been working a six-day week and he is currently on a school trip. I feel bad even mentioning that as one of my very dear friends is coping on her own with three little ones as her husband begins a tour of duty in a war zone, but I do find it hard to get so little time on my own. In the last 36 hours I have sat with friends as they have needed to talk and I have spent time on the phone with two mums of newborns. I have raced for my running club and I have cooked for, washed for and 'educated' three children. I have not had the opportunity to have much time for myself.
Blogging has become a few snatched moments and I want to find ways of making more time for it because I enjoy writing and it is something just for me. It feels like growing.
So, this is what I'm going to do:
I'm going to find or make more time to write, especially when these mad first days of September are done.
I'm going to write more about my faith, my relationship with Jesus, my running as well as Home Ed and my children.
I'm going to explore what I want to write and see if I can find my niche.

In the meantime, I need to make a confession.
We have two resident spiders and I am getting quite fond of them but my husband would rather we removed them to the wild outdoors. One lives in a hole in one door frame and the other, at the opposite end of the room, in a worrying large crack around the another door frame. They come out in the dark and are obviously 'jumping on things' spiders rather than 'catching things in a web' spiders.
Yesterday, I found one in the sink. This was proof to me of what I have heard, that they do not come up the drain pipe but fall in and can't get out: it tried over and again to scale the shiny walls but slithered down each time. The children and I had a look at it and then captured it with the cup and card technique. This, surely, was a perfect moment to introduce it to its natural environment.
After some thought I put it back on the wall next to its crack. It stopped for a while, cleaned its feet (that was interesting to watch - I guess they had something from the sink on them) and then disappeared into its home with, I like to think, a sigh of relief.
Sorry love. Yes, I did have it in a cup. Yes, I could have taken it in the garden. Yes, I put it back. What can I say - you love me 'cos I'm a softy!!

Spiders

It is Autumn. I love Autumn. I love the coolness (although this year, that does not really distinguish it from the Summer) and the dampness (likewise). If it does happen to be warm and sunny, that feels like a bonus, a treat; if it is dull and grey then it feels OK, normal, right to stay indoors and drink hot chocolate.

One thing I really notice in the Autumn is these guys:Can you see the spider in the middle?

I think she is an orb web spider and there are hundreds in our garden and in the bushes along the pavement: we found seven in one bush on the way home from the library. The children are fascinated by them and were very excited earlier this week when they found one in the process of building her web on the climbing frame.

I have often idly wondered where they go the rest of the year, but in looking for the link above, I have discovered that once the eggs are laid, the female dies. The eggs don't hatch until May and I guess it takes all Summer to grow this big.

The appearance of these spiders, and the squirrels burying walnuts all over my garden, are sure signs that Autumn, in all its peace and beauty, is well and truly here.

Give someone you love a hug

I came across an article yesterday on how chimps conslole their friends with a hug or a stroke if the friend has just lost out in a fight. This, according to the scientists, reduces the stress level of the victim and is evidence that chimps can experience empathy.

"This is something often thought to be a unique trait to humans, so
understanding the link between consolation and stress reduction in chimpanzees
is an important step towards understanding whether or not chimpanzees are
capable of this level of empathy."

It strikes me that understanding the link between consolation and stress reduction in humans is important too. As a Breastfeeding Counsellor, one thing I make sure I bring up plenty in the antenatal sesssions I lead is the importance and benefit of skin-to-skin contact with new-born babies. It's not just that it feels nice, but it has a measurable effect on calming a baby's heart-rate, temperature and level of crying. It releases soothing hormones in mum too.

Steven Biddulph, in his book 'The Secret of Happy Children', discusses the post World War 2 problem of caring for the thousands of orphans whose parents had either been killed or permanently separated from them by war. Some were put into field hospitals with state of the art facilities. Some were left in remote mountain communities and left in the arms of the village women. The children left in rural homes thrived much better that those left in the hospitals.

"The infants in the field hospital had everything but affection ... the
babies in the villages had more hugs ... than they knew what to do with."

He goes on to say that in an audience of 60 adults, they all raised their hands to say they got less affection then they would like in daily life.

A friend of mine has had the experience of visiting a Romanian orphanage where adults with learning difficulties have been institutionalised since infancy. She tells me of their desperation for physical contact of any kind. She would massage their hands and told me how they would hold their hand or even their feet out to her whenever they saw her, so important was it to them to have a loving, gentle touch. Any touch.

I'm going to give my children a big hug. I'm going to hug my husband when he gets in from work and my friend when I go round for supper later. I need hugs and I'm sure they do to!

Unintended spontaneity

(This actually happened on Wednesday, but I had some stuff to get off my chest yesterday so this got bumped down the schedule.)

I had just got my daughter tucked up, kissed good-night and had left her listening to Paddington. My sons were pyjama-ed and settling down for the night. I had a DVD ready and a glass of wine with my name on, when the 'phone rang.
"Hi, It's Hannah, from Bushy Park. Are you coming on the Night Prowl?"
"Oh yes, we're really looking forward to it. It's tomorrow night, right?"
"No. It's now. We've just started."
!
Did I really want to get the children up, dressed, out (in the rain) to walk in the dark? Sure! Much to the confusion of the whole family, we were clothed, had our wellies on and torches in hands and were in the park in less than 20 minutes!
We had a really special time. We saw a number of bats and were able to learn lots from Nigel, the man who knows all about bats, (I'm sure he has much more important role, but we missed all the introductions.) There was a moth trap set up and Tim, the man who knows all about moths, was there to explain it all. We also saw some toads, which I don't think I've ever seen before. The children found it very exciting to be out after dark, although my daughter expressed some concern over werewolves! We had mugs of hot chocolate when we got home and declared that we would not forget this Summer's walks in Bushy Park.
I am not someone who does spontaneity very well. I like structure, I like the idea of knowing what I will be doing weeks in advance. There was a moment when I thought, 'We can't possibly go out now, the children are in bed and I had other plans,' but, to steal Harry's words, "I feel like I'm really growing."

Wet and Wetter

We are lucky enough to live close to Bushy Park, one of London's Royal Parks and both last Summer and this we have been on some great Summer Activities there.

Last week we went on a deer walk, led by the man whose job it is to look after the 350 deer who live in the park. He was full of tit-bits of interesting information and I think for the first time I have really got the difference between Red:

and Fallow deer:

Yesterday, we went on a guided bird walk. The forecast was for showers, so we took the children's little rain coats, but ours are big and bulky and, after weighing up the benefits of rain proctection against carrying our coats around in the humid heat, my husband and I left ours behind. One heavy shower came and went and we sheltered under a tree. However, on our way back and about 10 minutes from the cars, the heavens opened. It was the type of rain that you think can't rain any harder, and then it finds a whole new level. I have never been so wet and fully clothed at the same time. We were dripping and squelching and sodden - even the children in their 'shower-proof' coats! The kind of wet when you can't get any wetter and you might as well just laugh.

We did see some lovely birds,

but I am sure that in years to come we will have forgotten which birds we saw and still laugh about the time we got wet through to our underwear in the Park!

Retreat

I have just returned from 48 hours retreat at a local convent - a blissful and peaceful time.

As I settled in on Friday I took the first of many strolls around the extensive gardens and sat by a pool for a while. I hoped I might see a frog. I don't know why, I just thought I'd like to. I had a good look in the pond for the eyes just above the surface, but there was nothing. I sat on the bench, kicked off my shoes and relaxed in the sun. For a while I watched a robin take a dust bath, and then I just sat some more.

And with a plop, a frog jumped into my shoe! He paused and then continued his journey into the pond, where he sat in the cool water staring up at me, before diving deeper to rest on the bottom.

In trying so hard to find a frog, I had drawn a blank. In kicking back and sitting, he'd come right to me.