Slugs and stealth

Its 8.25am and Frost, Wren and I are on way to the corner bus stop where the school bus will pick up Frost. Its always dramatic. Frost is anxious we will miss the bus and so shouts at everyone to

"hurry, get your SHOES WREN! NO! You don't have time for the iPad! Come OOOOON!"

Wren has a long, slow conversation with himself about whether or not to bring his scooter.

"I will take my scoot. No. I will take the bow. Can I put the bow over the top and hang it? No. I will fight! I will take the scoot. Will you carry the scoot down and I will carry the bow down and I can fight with Frost...?."

"COME OOOON!" yells Frost, halfway down the steps carrying his scooter, and strangely concerned that he will reach the bus stop without us.

I buckle Wren's helmet, the pediatrician's words echoing in my mind "It must be instinctive to have a helmet when riding whether its a scooter or a tricycle or bicycle..." and he lifts his chin extra high to avoid a pinch. Despite doing the same thing for Frost, his instincts have worn off and he considers a helmet unnecessary for scooting and downright uncool.

"When have I fallen off my scooter?" he sighs at me.

Of course, I have been consigned to that well worn stereotype of the neurotic, uncool and out-of-touch mother [as opposed to the stereotype of the "dude" - those who get it.] I still insist on the bicycle but after so little practice through the winter I am not even sure he remembers how to ride it.

Frost is out of sight down the sidewalk as Wren climbs on his scooter, hangs his plastic bow over one handle and launches after him at breakneck speed, carefully navigating around the large bumps in the sidewalk where the roots of the great neighboring evergreen have thrust up a mini dividing range across the path.

We reach the corner with 5 minutes to spare.

This is the moment when the boys do scooter fights. That means chasing after each other and taking swipes with imaginary weapons. At times the scooters are horses and they are jousting knights. At times they are a large brother tripping up or terrifying a smaller brother. Today, they decide to scoot fast to the corner and are about to go off when Frost realizes there are slugs.

The bus stop corner is very sluggy. Whenever the weather is temperate and damp, the slugs come out in abundance. Its infested to the point that you can't walk blithely without treading on one. Frost asks me to hold his book. He's reading the sequel to Chasing Vermeer, a mystery novel about Frank Lloyd Wright and fish. This morning he insisted on reading right through breakfast and got nutella on the book as a result. He is now scooting around with it hanging from the handlebars.

I take the book and Frost and Wren walk slowly up the sidewalk where they want to scoot, collecting slugs. Frost is quite squeamish about touching them but does so with a puckered up face. He places them next to a stem of fallen Iris blossoms. They cluster around the wilted flowers, presumably eating them. While examining the ground the boys discover a large glob of sputum and wonder about it. I tell them that somebody spat and it is their phlegm.

"GROSS."
"Yuck"
It is slightly bubbly. We cover it with grass.

Even when the path seems clear, both boys are anxious and continue to walk up and down checking for smaller slugs. Frost is reluctant to scooter over the grass covered spittle. Soon, Wren tires of this indecision climbs into the garden and hides behind a large tree.

"I am a knight! A bad knight" he announces, hugging his bow to his chest. "You can't see me!"
"What kind of knight are you?"
"I am a knight!"
"But what RACE? Are you a human, a half-orc, a goblin, an ogre?"
"I am a goblin. No, I am an ogre!"
"An ogre knight! Pioowww" [That is the noise of an attack]

They fight imaginary battles a while, forgetting the slugs which revel in the iris buffet, until the bus comes.

Frost rushes to pick up his things. "Quick, where is my book? Oh GOD, my book? Where did I put it?"
"I have it. You gave it to me. I folded the page for your place."
"What? You did that! That's a really bad habit!"

He grabs the book and jumps on the bus.

As soon as he is gone I must take his place as Wren's adversary. He is now a goblin and 'hides' in plain sight to ambush me. I shoot an imaginary bow and he dies with gurgles, then recovers and shoots back. I have to push two scooters home, avoiding the odd slug.

From timeto time Wren develops an obsession with a particular object. This attachment goes beyond the comfort and love he feelsfor soft shirt. After the past few months these objects include:

Gnoll archer
The playmobil Egyptian with a golden bow.
His wooden bow made at Camp Orkila.
His plastic bow from the thrift store.

The common theme is bows and arrows. Wren is very attracted to bows and I recently bought him an old book titled Archery Is For Me. This small hardcover picture book was published in the 70s and talks about a boy learning archer (on a recurve bow) with his friend (a girl) who has a compound bow. Wren calls his twig bow his recurve bow and his plastic bow is his compound bow. He dreams of shooting at targets. Since reading the book he inserts objects into his bow and then throws or drops them as "shooting arrows."

We made it home. I have the gnoll archer in my bag, we park the scooters, hang the bows and head in for breakfast.

Relax and think about happiness

It was Tara's birthday today and we spent the afternoon at the naked-lady-spa baths aka Olympus Spa in Lynnwood. I always enjoy that place. Its lovely to wallow in the hot and cold pools and to get scoured within an inch of ones life on a slippery massage table by a woman in black underwear and catching up on the trends in tattoos (asian, calligraphy, blackwork, little fairies).

What's not to like.

Well, it turns out that something bothered me. As I was lying on the scrub table the masseur / scrubber leant close to my ear and whispered "relax and think about happiness."

Think about happiness.

I guess I am one of those over-analytical people who doesn't think happiness is an end in itself so there I was trying to relax and ponder the meaning of "happiness". I was already in an odd space on this issue since I received an email from Jonathan in London asking what I am doing with my life besides mothering. I couldn't answer that either.

Oddly, the first and strongest association I had when told to Relax and Think About Happiness was a recollection of a visit to a roller rink some time in the late 70s or early 80s. I was learning to skate and did not find it easy. However, I had managed to go around and around on this rink which smelled of rubber. Perhaps I was watching my skates, perhaps I was biting my lip. Anyway, a skate monitor (young 20s and cool) skated up to me and said "relax, this is supposed to be FUN!"

At the time, I found this extremely embarrassing. So much so that I spent of lot of time thinking about being a serious person who does not have FUN. Of course, I thought I was over it. Over considering serious and fun as a dichotomy.

I am now going to bed instead of finishing this thought in an elegant manner. I can do this because I am fun and relaxed (and well scrubbed).

Happy birthday Tara!

Raccoons get into the chicken coop

Last night a raccoon got into the chicken coop. It was around 1.30am. The chickens made a loud noise and Joshua, who was still awake, rushed out and had to chase a raccoon from INSIDE the coop.

It was our fault.

We had left the chicken coop open - we try and shut it around dusk but sometimes forget until later. Its one of those shared responsibilities which, in the absence of any visible raccoons, slips into the after-the-kids-are-in-bed-turmoil and then, sometimes, later.

No more!

This morning the only signs of the invasion are some feathers and a large boulder against part of the coop where the foundation of the chicken coop is a bit weak. I can see that part of the bird netting over the run (which is supposed to stop the chickens flying out over the fence) is pulled down and is, presumably, where the raccoon climbed down off the fence. Bird netting is not going to stop a raccoon but we shall have to ensure that the coop itself can withstand a more direct attack now that the raccoons have them on their radar.

Edited to add:
Josh says that they first got in when the door was open. He rushed out when he heard them shouting. There were two raccoons, one in the coop and one outside. The chickens were flapping around and pucking like mad. He hit one raccoon with a rake and, displaying his pastoral roots, vowed he would have shot them if he had a rifle. This is why we not have a rifle.

He explained that no animals mess with our chickens.

Hrmmm.

Then, at 3am, the chickens started up again. Josh went outside and found the raccoons had returned. This time they had removed a cinder block which is part of the foundation of the coop. It is a very heavy cinder block and was partially buried so this took persistance. Josh moved a large boulder to reinforce this area and has been out there checking on it this morning.

In another development, this morning I removed all the eggs from the henhouse by mistake. you are supposed to leave ONE egg so the chickens continue to lay in their nesting box. Apparently they count in a binary manner - Egg 0 or Egg Some. If you take all the eggs the chooks will relocate the nest to a safer spot. The chickens were very agitated when they went to lay and found the eggs gone! We replaced a few eggs and they settled down.

The chickens' intelligence has grown in our estimation as well as their ability to communicate.

Camp Orkila - Mothers Day Weekend

We spent last weekend at Camp Orkila with Frost's old school, Kapka. Camp Orkila is a YMCA outdoor camp on Orcas Island, in the San Juan Islands. It takes about 4 hours to get there from Seattle - driving to Anacortes and then catching an inter-island ferry on a trip which takes about 90 minutes.

The weather is fickle in spring. On prior years it has threatened rain during the day and been cold. I have never been tempted to swim and last year my kayaking was cancelled due to wind. This weekend was remarkable for its cool clear windless sun. It was the kind of weather that makes everyone want a boat and a vacation cabin and to take pictures into which they can photoshop orcas and seals and small white-sailed dinghies.

We had a lovely time and even the clear bright nights were tolerable in our tent.

Food

One of my favorite things about Camp is having all the food prepared for me. You come into a big hall at meal time and its all there in big silver vats. And its usual-kid friendly. Since my kids eat weird food Frost would sometimes eat nothing but desert and Wren would eat only oranges and a pancake, but at Camp Orkila I didn't have to bother. There was no more food so they ate what they wanted and nothing more.

Here is Wren in the hall eating ORANGE! Note, he is wearing his cape over his pajamas. This is his favorite outfit. Many days I have to bribe him to get into real clothes by afternoon.

Here is Josh bringing Wren to lunch or breakfast which was at 8am every day. I love breakfast on a schedule and it included hot chocolate, eggs, pancakes and lots of parents staggering around saying they didn't get any sleep because of:

• snorting pigs,
• kids falling out of bunks,
• parents singing too loud at the campfire or
• cold.

Plants Versus...

We were a bit naughty and brought the iPad to camp. Wren spent early mornings and a few afternoon naptimes playing what he calls "Plants-versus". Popular culture calls this Plants Versus Zombies and Frost calls its PVZ. Plantsversus is our family addiction. Actually I am going to pause my blog update to play a level. I am on the roof level.

"Daddy, I do not mind if the zombies EAT MY BRAINS"

Fashionista

Last week, Wren wore a sweater Mum bought for us in Australia at an art show. I neglected it over winter because it was lightweight but now that its milder it has come out. This sweater has attracted a lot of excitement in Seattle. I was asked where I bought it, if I could copy it, if it was a Mondrian design and told that it was the most fabulous thing ever. It was especially admired when worn with striped black and white leggings.

Amigos

The best thing about Camp Orkila is that the kids can run freely with their friends. I barely saw Frost on Saturday - he ran with his pack of boys - and Wren was often gone for half an hour with his 'friends' or 'small mothers' - Eve and Ingrid. The girls looked after Wren and made up missions and games for him. At mealtimes he cried when he could not find "my friends" and at times would not come and play with me because he had "a mission with The Big Boys!"

Wren, Ingrid and Eve at the beach

Alex, Isaac and Frost - the three amigos

Boating

I wanted to type in some text with this picture but I don't have photoshop anymore. Boo hoo. Anyway, it shows the rowboat containing Frost, Zephyr, Isaac and Mike. Mike is lying back in the bow and is the only adult on board. Zephyr did a valiant deed and rowed the boys to the island which they named according to imagined Pirate histories.

Meanwhile, I went on an idyllic paddle for a few hours in a group. We saw seals, a loon, flocks of turkey vultures and a bald eagle diving at an otter or ferret-like animal on the beach. I now aspire to do a kayaking tour in the San Juans at some point. There are many state parks only accessible by water and a paddling route around the islands leading from campsite to campsite, island to island. Wouldn't that be fun? If Josh wasn't keen I am sure I would find some other takers? Right?

The Sea, The Sea

Wren said his favorite part of Camp Orkila was the beach. It is good to be near the sea. I am not sure whether it is good for everyone or just good if you have lived near the sea as a child. Wren liked to play on the beach whenever he could.

Here he wears his cape.

The same place at sunset with Wren, Eve and Ingrid (not sure who the larger boy is).

Fires

One of the most persistent "games" for the bigger boys was firemaking. There were various rules around fires but the boys were interested in creating and protecting their fires. At many points there were "girl" fires and "boy" fires - with circles drawn in clay dust around them. Boys chased girls with balls of cut grasss (the lawns had been mown shortly before we arrived) and the girls retaliated with mock attacks. Simply the threat that "the girls are planning something!" would be enough to unleash a flurry of strategy and running around. Wren and some other boys made bows with twigs and string. Wren still has his bow and runs around pretending to shoot things and people with it.

Frost with a handful of grass in the Defend the Fire From Girls game. Zephyr had a "Survival Kit" in his backpack containing string, tape, a knife, matches etc. This became the center for many games. Frost would like a knife but is still very concerned about being cut and does not really have any idea how to use it. Perhaps for this birthday?
Here is Wren with his bow at the boy fire. You can see Alex, Jack and Benjamin to his left.

As we left Orcas Island there was one dramatic moment. I had waited 2 hours in the ferry line (you have to, to get on the midday sailing) and as the line advanced I turned on the car and it went "click". We had a flat battery.

There was lots of cussing and running around but miraculously Josh managed to jumpstart the car in time for us to get on the ferry in time. Phew. We were all a bit hyped after that and it was good to be home.

There was news at home - a drive-by shooting - apparently random shots fired into a family home down the street. Still, the work and school season continues and we are left with memories of fires and kayaks and a twig bow.

Clay

A post on Camp Orkila is taking time. Meanwhile, Wren enjoyed the clay at Camp Orkila. This is a tiny little movie made with my point and shoot camera in a crowd of kids. It is mainly for Mum who will tell me that I must sign Wren up for pottery class, which I am trying to do. It was a lot of fun for me too although I loathed pottery class when I was a kid.

There was this strange woman who taught it and I was dumped off there weekly to play with lumps of clay and mould them into uninspired objects which I felt obliged to hang onto. I did not connect with clay. It was in a shed off her garage. She had rules and I didn't like them. I think she told me off once about something but I cannot recall what it was.

Now, if someone had sent me to a painting or drawing class I would have had fun. Why is it so hard to see who our kids are becoming and just go with it?

The need to give our kids opportunities and experience speaks more about us than them.

Lego Universe Beta Test

Frost and Elias are running about the virtual Lego Universe.

Elias: Lets say THANKS and follow him.
Frost: Get the hat. Get the hat.
Elias: How do you say thanks?
Frost: Write there [pointing to dialog box]. Just write T-H-X.
Elias: Run away!
Frost: There are TWO guys attacking you. DON'T GO THERE. They are these super hard spiders. We need some swords.
Elias: Woah!
Frost: So much STUFF. Get all that stuff! Woah.
Elias: ATTACK!!!

A few small accidents

Shortly after I arrived home Wren fell down the last few front stairs and landed on his knees. I offered initial comfort and snuggling then approach with an ice pack:

"Ow, ow, ow" he says "I don't want that kind! It HURTS when you even put that on. What can we DO that Doesn't HURT when you do it. Ow, ow! It is very bad. DO NOT LOOK. That does not work. WHAT WOULD WE DO MUM????"

We do popcorn and more snuggling. The popcorn makes Frost more hungry. He asks for hummus. I microwave the frozen pita and then finish it off in the toaster to make it puff out a dry off the microwave soggies. Frost retrieves the pita when it pops and is burned by its heat.

"I just held it for a minute and there was a SHARP PAIN and I didn't realize but it BURNED MY HAND" he cries.

This starts Wren crying again, a forced whimpering whine. "Now we are BOTH hurt" he says.

They move off to the deck in sorrow and start fighting for possession of the hammock.

Apparently, they will survive.

The Shimmer of All Things

Time does not take pity on a blogger. Each day you write not, events accrue until you face a metaphorical stack of moments to account for. Not that accounting is my business. I like to keep the tally in a more general sense. Still, with a birthday, a party, a gelatinous cube [cake], a newly ferocious tiger, a visit to the farm and the "battle of the monkeyman" passing unremarked, I feel I have some catching up to do.

I haven't even commented on that whole episode of the Icelandic volcano! Wren has been very concerned with volcanoes for a long while so the regular appearance of volcanoes in the local paper was a source of great excitement. I felt personally connected via Facebook where my friend Frances, living in Iceland, posted her experiences, and then again when I learned that Jonathan (Yes, the same long ago Jonathan) who is now a pilot (yes, indeed, the marvels) was grounded at Luton airport. This was all very thrilling. Off and on during the days of ash induced quietude (somewhere, quietude), I pretended I was being interviewed and had to say the name of the volcano and blundered it like a broken down telephone:

"Eye-sjar-fall-oh-cull"

"Aye-ee-ah-fall-o-kial"

"Eye-far-ale-o-joke-ial"

Meanwhile, out of the shadow of the ash, Wren and I went out to Fox Hollow Farm with his friend Henry. Henry was accompanied by Jen (or rather, we accompanied Jen and Henry). It was wet, decidedly muddy, and the beasts were restive being visited by toddlers. Since our visit to Australia (during which Mum worried about her puppy but Wren remains traumatized) Wren has been phobic about dogs. Unfortunately, sheep, pigs and even goats remind him of dogs with teeth so he did not want to visit with them. Even more unfortunately, a sheep escaped from the barn and barreled down the path towards us. Heroically, I stopped the sheep and held it until the farmhand appeared and restored it to its mates.

Thankfully, rabbits and ducks do no took like dogs. Wren loved the rabbits, whose beady little eyes stared back guardedly and who, despite their fur, did not like being cuddled.

Wet chicken

Demonic Rabbits

The ducks slurped in the mud. In the loft of the barn, there was a rope across some haybales. The idea is that a child will climb the haybales and then swing across the room, a la Tarzan. Wren climbed up the bale, swung off and fell into a chasm between two bales. This made him cry.

Ducks dredging the paddock

After the falling and the fearing, the highlight of the visit was driving the battery operated truck around the driveway. Wren drove a short distance and did not reveal a knack for steering. Henry drove around a few times, with minor corrections from Jen. Wren held on tight. Both boys liked it best when they had a ball in the back of the truck to do a delivery. Henry delivered the ball to the front steps of the farmhouse.

I do believe he enjoyed this.

And this...

After that we did the Seattle Suburban thing and drove through an Espresso stand to ensure optimum levels of caffeination for the drive back over 520.

Still to come....... the gelatinous birthday and some cake.

Time Capsule

I was looking for something to write on and picked up an old moleskine notebook I started using in 2003. By chance, it opened to an entry for April 23rd, 2005 - almost 5 years ago to the day. So, today's entry is titled Camping With Frost.

This entry is particularly interesting because, five years ago, Frost was 3 and three quarters. He was six months older than Wren is now.

Here is the entry:

DECEPTION PASS April 23rd 2005

Camping with Frost:

• Frost holds candy in very high regard. We find some tiny red tick-like animals on the beach. I call it a "crab. Frost leaves a candy on the beach for them, checking as they 'eat it'. Frost is thrilled "Mummy, they have never had candy before! I think they like us.

• He pretends to be "rats" and Kitty. Rats talks to me and eats a lot. Kitty eats with her face right in her plate and zombies come at night, being "nocturnal".

• "Mummy, camping is not like home. I miss my ratties and kitty and Daddy and I miss watching TV when I eat lunch."

• He sings a song "It's Kitty playtime as he wraps the hammock sides around over his head. I ask where he heard this song and he told me that it was on Teletubbies [does he watch this ? not with ME!] They sing "its Tubbie playtime" which "reminds me of this". I am concerned with all his TV Iconography.

• He loves digging on the beach with his big shovel. He makes volcanoes from sand with crater depressions in the summit. I put a seaweed "eruption" on one and now he follows suit.

• Frost and I enjoy birdwatching. He uses the binoculars but can't find the birds in them which causes frustration.

• "Hey, where did the Zombies go? Oh, they are going swimming. See how far out they are.. that black dot is them!"

• "Frost, do you need to pee?" "No, I am just dancing."

• He find slugs along the path and crouches down to watch them.

• Reading and writing: Frost writes his name and the word CAT and other simple things.

Frost and Alex on Preparing for Life's Challenges

I picked Frost (8) up from FCS this morning after a sleepover with Alex and the pig. They had played an hour of DS in the morning because:

Alex (8): We had to get up at 6am to pee and then we woke Oliver [the pig] and he started oinking and snuffling a lot.

Frost: We played this cool game on the DS. Its called SPORKLE. It has lots of quiz games. We played this game that was a brand quiz. There was also a Simpson's quiz

Alex: We were pretty good but it got hard.

Me: What's a brand?

Frost: Its like the small picture that a company has to show who they are. You know, like the SHELL symbol or the T&T symbol or the T-Mobile symbol.

Alex: We got a lot of them. We had to type the name when the picture was there and we got most of them.

Frost: That's why I like to watch the commercials on local TV. I need to prepare myself for all of the fun brand games like this.