Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

This morning we headed out early for a trip to Daniel Boone National Forest, about an hour-and-a-half from our house.  Poor Sydney: he planned and gave us all lots of advance notice, and we were out the door by 7:15, but as we were winding our way through the forest during the last ten minutes of our drive we realized that Nathaniel had left his shoes at home.  Sydney had told him to put on his shoes and get in the car, and Nathaniel only did the second part.  Sigh.

So we resigned ourselves to some whining and extra hurdles, but we decided to push on, and we tackled two hikes, one 2 miles long and the other 1 mile long.  The first was beautiful.  And this coming from someone who lived in Ithaca!  The great beauty helped us make clear even to the kids why it is worth heading out on hikes. We saw numerous interesting rock structures, and we stopped at this one so that the kids could sit in what appeared to be a natural child’s seat, carved out in the stone wall.  Nathaniel has no shoes, and Katherine has her pants on backwards (why, child?), but otherwise we’re in decent shape.  We followed tumbling streams, saw lots of caves, and even waded across a stream (so cold!) to get to the sandy beach below.  By this point, we were all sandy, we’d all removed our shoes, and Nathaniel was only marginally more of a mess than the rest of us.  But it was a lot of fun.  There were a lot of people out today, with cars parked haphazardly along the roads, but things were still incredibly quiet everywhere we went.  And it was amusing watching groups of a variety of ages and numbers tackle the stream-crossing.  Since the rocks were very slippery, usually one in a party got a wet backside; Katherine was our family’s contribution, and it took a while for her to forget about her wet pants.

With Nathaniel riding on my shoulders for half the hike (ugh, this kid is like a sack of potatoes), I didn’t get to charge ahead or look up at the rich forest very often.  But we did see a lot more things that are at kid-level.

After a picnic, both kids revived a bit, so we thought we would try one more short hike.  The area is known for its rock bridges, like the one we encountered on our first hike. 

Halfway into our second hike, along the spine of a hilltop, we found ourselves facing this:

We quickly grabbed the kids’ hands and inched our way across, and it was breathtaking.  Both kids were amazed at the smooth rock underneath their feet (by this point Katherine had voluntarily removed her shoes in solidarity with Nathaniel), and by their unobstructed view of the valley on both sides of the bridge.  And no, in case you are wondering, there isn’t a guard rail to be seen, and the drop is precipitous, as you can see from the view we had below, once we’d worked our way underneath the bridge (the kids and I are sitting on a rock in the bottom left corner, to give you a sense of scale).

Although the Bluegrass region of Kentucky, where we live, has natural beauty of its own, the fierce, steep, wooded terrain of this area felt more like home to us, and I know we’ll be going again very soon.  Next time with shoes.

Erin

I’m discovering that there are benefits to having a Feb. 15th fellow and a Good Friday girl.  Both kids are thrilled that everyone around them gets in a bit of a silly, celebratory mood right around their birthdays, and they don’t ask for too much in the way of presents or desserts made specifically for them.  I mean, when you can have an Easter egg hunt during the week of your birthday, why ask for much more?  For months, Katherine looked forward to bringing treats to her classmates to share at the end of the school day on her birthday.  I know that I’m going to miss these simple delights as the kids get older and more complicated.

The kids have reveled in turning 6 (Katherine) and 4 (Nathaniel) this spring, and they’ve been showing signs of increasing maturity.  Katherine is unabashedly keen on reading and math at school, and she’s been working hard to not lose her temper, both at home and school.  Nathaniel still doesn’t hear most of my instructions to him, but he is starting to show signs of independence, putting on/picking out his clothes and carrying his dishes to the sink after meals.  These little shifts, plus ever-lengthening legs, have made it clear that we’re going to have different hiking and gardening and traveling experiences this year than we’ve had in the past.  We’re thrilled!

Sydney has built himself a cold frame in which to start plants and flowers from seed, and thus far things are looking good.

Yes, this is an incubator for peppers, tomatoes, and flowers.

Many of our meals are now outside, particularly if they involve crumbly cornbread or hummus wraps.

Below our deck, Sydney has laid out a large garden, the skinny sections being our paths.  We haven’t been able to dig a lot yet, given the incessant rain this spring, but the dark bed in the back right has some lettuce in it, and the one on its left contains strawberry plants.  Off to the left of the picture is the real prize: a line of 16 blueberry bushes along the fence.  We know we’ll be eating a lot of smoothies during Kentucky’s hot summers, so we want to make those drinks a bit more affordable.

Erin

I usually find the walk to my 11:00 class a bit of an obstacle course.  Since it’s right after chapel, and there’s a bit of a break before class, the halls are filled with clusters of friends making lunch plans, but mostly couples getting in a quick chat and a lingering hug before they go off to separate classes.  I’m usually trying to hold back on the eye-roll by the time I get to my classroom, and I consider myself mostly a romantic.  There are just so many!  But recently I saw something that was genuinely cute.  I gave an exam, and about ten minutes before class ended, when several students had already handed in and left, one guy came up, handed in his exam, and then headed back to his seat.  Wanting to make sure he knew he was free to go, I caught his eye and glanced at the door.  He understood, but did a quick head-nod toward his girlfriend, a nervous test-taker one row over, then pulled out his ipad, slid down, and quietly waited until she was done.

Erin

I’ve been reading about the March doldrums from other academics, and now I can see that life in Kentucky is just different.  Here, starting this week and last, the birds are cacophonous in the mornings, I’ve seen t-shirts and shorts around town, and Sydney has entirely lost his head to gardening (Let me know if you see a dignified philosophy professor anywhere.  Currently the only man in my house is a wild-eyed, dirt-covered, barefoot carpenter and farmer).  Kentucky is at 37 degrees latitude, and I’m realizing that that makes a big difference.  Iowa and New York are at 42, so that was my normal for the first 25 years of my life.  Oxford was 52, so quite a shift (dark by 3:30 in the winter, the sun never directly overhead).  To be now 15 degrees below that is really striking, particularly when I see snowy pictures of Boston as I wash dirt-covered little hands.  I’m invigorated by this spring weather (don’t worry: for those of you who are jealous, you will laugh when my brain melts this summer) and my only problem is choosing between writing and gardening/hiking/playing.

Erin

In some families, it’s the living/family room that’s the hangout.  But in our house, the living room is a retreat, a place to get away from whirling activity.  For the action you head to the kitchen, where somebody’s cooking, someone else is building Legos on the counter, someone else has books piled on the table, and the fourth is drawing at her desk.

Thanks to Sydney, the kitchen is starting to reflect our family’s personality a bit more, too.  He hauled out the *meh* dishwasher next to the sink and, this weekend, installed shelving.  There is nothing that I like more than food storage, and it’s nice to keep staples handy.  We do have a small pantry, but we are regularly scared by how quickly our family can go through food.  By my count, that shelving could hold nearly twenty gallons of pantry goods, in gallon, half-gallon, and quart jars.

Erin

Sydney could see I’d had a bit much of our kids’ wild behavior this morning, and in the midst of my complaining, he reminded me, “Remember the kids’ book, when the girl realizes that her attitude makes things sweet or not sweet?  Yeah, same here.”

I was shocked out of my grumpiness: “Wait, you just quoted a Pinkalicious book at me?  The books Katherine has been picking out at the library that are covered in glitter and pictures of cupcakes and self-absorbed children?”

Wow.  Just wow.  But that left-field reference got me back in a better mood.

* * *

Sometime during the week of snow days in February the kids tackled watercolors, and now the cork boards over their beds are filled with families of elephants and trains (guess whose board has which pictures).  Sydney’s stack of t-shirts provided nice painting smocks.

And the cats got very cuddly.  They don’t seem to be keen on giving up ground just because they’re now twice the size they were when we got them in the fall.  The day they did this elaborate sharing/repositioning act I got almost three hours of work in.  I sometimes have to be forced to sit still.  My legs stayed quite warm under two cats and a blanket.

Erin

“Apparently you cannot take her anywhere.  She’s being mean.”

Whoah.  He gives “apparently” a lot more weight than I thought it had!

Erin

A colleague of mine asked me to teach his students about picture books this week.  The course is on adolescent literature, and they’ve barely touched books for young children, so I’m in charge of that part.  My sole credential for this particular task is that I have long babysat for and now have my own small children, and thus have lugged picture books around and read them at night.

I know lots of academic things about children’s literature, particularly its use as escapist cultural conditioning in the Victorian era, or its role in reinforcing racist ideology during Jim Crow.  But as for what is popular, or what parents of small children like for them to read, I’m not sure I’m the best judge.  My kids got into books in England, which has its own literary culture (which we brought over with us when we moved here), and, well, my kids have a literature prof as a mother, and I know that this is the only time in their lives in which I’ll be in charge of picking what they read.  Already, when we go to the library, we get three sets of books: my picks, her picks, and his picks.  Now, we all enjoy reading all of them together, but my son falls for the poorly written Thomas the Tank Engine books (oh, man!  I love Thomas, but never realized that the stories are seriously clunky!) and Katherine recently picked upPinkalicious. Sigh.  It’s all glitter and selfishness.  I tend to pick up books that are full of fantasy and quirky characters and strange new vocabulary.

I don’t think I’m quite as hapless when it comes to picking children’s books as I sound, but, still, I realize that my perspective is not shared by everyone, so I’d be glad for input.  What makes you pick up a children’s book?  Is it the fact that it’s a book from your own childhood?  Is it silly?  Is it educational?  Is it a role-model type?  Are the drawings breathtaking or scribbly?  Do you have favorites you’d like to name and share with the world?

Erin

In some ways, I could really like this weather.  It’s really winter, finally, in Kentucky.  There’s a foot of snow on the ground, I’ve been able to stay home from school for three days, and my familiar little town looks like a winter playground.  I am, after all, an Iowan, and thus used to cold and snow.

But I have classes scheduled (this week, cancelled just an hour or two before I teach!), and each change in the schedule requires lots of juggling and responding to flurries of emails from students.  And I have kids who don’t seem to understand that I need to go outside and shovel on my own, since they think it too cold to be out for long and help.  I would prefer they not turn Lord of the Flies the moment I step out the door.  A hint: somebody dies in that book.  And their short legs and tiny bodies don’t seem to hold up well against some bitter cold and wind and piles of snow.  Sigh.  And, no, I don’t like being solo local parent, glad as I am that Sydney was able to spend time with his family in Nova Scotia and combine that trip with a conference in St. Louis.

But, in good news, I got one day in the office to myself once the kids’ school reopened (my school was closed, but Nathaniel’s nursery was open, so off they went for a change of pace!), we got a few quiet mornings and easy days in which to help the kids through the worst of the coughs they both picked up last week, we built some amazing Lego structures together yesterday that I would never have time for otherwise, and my kids clamoured for chickpea curry for supper.  Hurray!

Erin

Kentucky seems to be disturbingly warm throughout the winter until I leave to see if I can find some proper winter weather elsewhere. Still, despite the record storm in KY yesterday, I saw way more snow in Nova Scotia. Here’s me shoveling snow off a greenhouse a few days ago to keep it from collapsing (I’m basically done by this point):

And then we got the real snowstorm, high winds and all, leaving our street looking like this:

And, of course, the greenhouses need to be shoveled out all over again. Note that there are three structures in this picture:

Sydney