Eggs, Chickens, Kitchen, & Kids

While the legality of chickens in Salem lingers on in limbo I have been fairly silent about chickens and eggs. At least fairly silent for me, which is a completely relative measurement. But no more, and especially not today.

You will not take my chickens from me. A defiant statement I realize, but it simply won't happen. I have no intention of fighting with anyone, nor am I attempting to wave a red flag by stating this, I am simply saying it.

We've reached a time in history where pasture raised chicken (chickens not kept in tiny little pens) are $4 lb and eggs from pasture raised chickens can easily be over $3 a dozen, you will not take my chickens from me. I paid over $27 for a rabbit (for eating) yesterday. Animals that once were common are now affordable to only those of flexible, or considerable, income.

It isn't just about the money though. Not by a long shot. It is much more about the beauty and richness that the experience provides us. That can not be measured, it can only attempt to be described.

I've been reading Julia Child's My Life in France. I read about her first dining experience and how customers were asking (she had to get her husband to translate for her) "how was the chicken raised?" This has left me speechless and saddened, for I know how few places I could dine at now where anyone in the restaurant could begin to know that. The world has changed, and along the way we lost something precious.

Something beautiful happened though when I to page 60 in the book. This is the 'Le Cordon Bleu' Chapter and she is talking about how Chef Bugnard taught them how to properly made scrambled eggs. Here is the excerpt from the book:

With a smile, Chef Bugnard cracked two eggs and added a dash of salt and pepper. "Like this," he said, gently blending the yolks and whites together with a fork. "Not too much."
He smeared the bottom and sides of a frying pan with butter, then gently poured the eggs in. Keeping the heat low, he stared intently at the pan. Nothing happened. After a long three minutes, the eggs began to thicken into a custard. Stirring rapidly with the fork, sliding the pan on and off the burner, Bugnard gently pulled the egg curds together -- "Keep them a little bit loose; this is very important," he instructed.
"Now the cream or butter," he said, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
"This will stop the cooking, you see?" I nodded, and he turned the scrambled eggs out onto a plate, sprinkled a bit of parsley around, and said, "Voila!"
His eggs were always perfect, and although he must have made this dish several thousand times, he always took great pride and pleasure in this performance. Bugnard insisted that one pay attention, learn the correct technique, and that one enjoy one's cooking -- "Yes, Madame Scheeld, fun!" he'd say. "Joy!"
It was a remarkable lesson. No dish, not even the humbled scrambled egg, was too much trouble for him. "You never forget a beautiful thing that you have made," he said. "Even after you eat it, it stays with you -- always."

Immediately after reading this for the first time I knew I simply had to make scrambled eggs. And so I did, and I was overcome by how delicious they were. Amazing. The best scrambled eggs I've ever had, and I've always thought I'd had some pretty darn good scrambled eggs in the past. And that first batch has stayed with me. And I am reminded of it each time I remake it. I have been so taken with this part of the book that I haven't been able to read beyond it yet.
Something so remarkable from something so simple. Amazing.

But, of course, the chickens and eggs aren't just enriching in the delicious and healthy food they provide for us. Nor in the benefits that they provide for our yard and garden, which are quite numerous as well. They are beneficial in what they have taught my children.

Tristan attends story time at the local library (a fantastic library by the way!). The week of Easter the stories revolved around eggs and there was an Easter Egg Hunt afterwards in the courtyard. ~Yes, Salem's library has a gorgeous courtyard that is enclosed by a beautiful brick wall and that contains tables situated under brightly colored umbrellas, old gnarly tree roots that beckon you to lean up against them while reading, and landscaping that makes you feel like you've stumbled upon a secret garden. All it lacks is a small pond with fish.~
While we were at the library for story time this week I was pulled aside by the girl who had happened to read to the children Easter week. She wanted to let me know something that Tristan had said.
"I was reading to them a book and in it there was an egg, but it was a robin's egg, and it had a little bird inside," she told me.
Apparently Tristan felt the need to correct her on this and tell the class what was REALLY inside of eggs. He had the full attention of all the children there as he informed them on what was really in the eggs. They began asking questions such as "how do baby birds get in the eggs?"

Since this was beginning to veer into territory beyond the simple Easter themed story the girl reading the book suggested they just get back to the book.

Aside from interrupting story time and someone reading aloud to a class, I am quite proud of Tristan. This is a subject he does know a lot about, though please remember that since we don't have a rooster we don't have fertilized eggs and the chance of chicks.
I am proud of him for being able to speak up and out on an issue he was informed on. On having the desire to want to share that knowledge with others. Of holding the attention of the other children. Especially since these are children who have likely not seen a live chicken, much less ones in a backyard setting, or petted one, or raised one, or who have been responsible for gathering fresh eggs out of the nest boxes.

Never underestimate the power of doing things for yourself. Of taking charge of your lives and the ability to provide for yourself and your family. Never underestimate the endless benefits that can come from such acts.

Snowy Weekend Thoughts

Even though we live surrounded by the mountains, we don't get a lot of snow here. We used to when I was younger, but now years go by and the "big" snow of the year is a couple inches in late February or March. In fact, we have a rule that Justin has to take off a snow day, even if he could get to work, just so he won't miss out on the likely one chance to take the kids sledding.
You can understand then that we now have the attitude of "I'll believe it when I see it" regarding deep snowfalls. And, you can really understand then our shock when it DID snow.

~This shot was taken on 12/18 about 10pm. That's our redbud tree, wrapped in gold Christmas lights~

It is funny. We woke up early Saturday to Whiskey, our chocolate lab, howling for some unknown reason. Then the boys got up and came into our room early. Bouncing on the bed, watching cartoons, snuggling.
In pajamas, about 8am I wandered out onto the front and back porches to snap some photos of the snow.

~8am 12/19 - the top photo is the birdbath out front & the snow-covered chili pot (see the 1st photo) - bottom photo was taken on the back deck, on the table .. FIFTEEN INCHES!!!~

By the time I got back inside, Shannon was done with his cereal and Tristan wasn't far behind. By the time I got to the bedroom, Shannon was in his snowsuit, demanding to go sledding. Like, RIGHT NOW!!! Uh .. no. Mama needs a few moments in the morning. Sledding at 8am isn't on the agenda.
By 9am we were outside. Agendas were clashing. Shannon was determined to head up the street to Salem's Municipal Golf Course -- local mecca for sledding. Tristan was happy about the snow until he found out it was waist deep on him and, while walking is hard, turning around is near impossible. Justin already had the shovel in hand and was beginning to shovel the walk. I had photographer-giddiness and wanted snow shots.

~Top to bottom: Shannon happy about the snow & eyeing the sled; Tristan still happy about the snow, but waist-deep in it; Justin, beginning the "dig-out" ---- agendas are clashing!~

Photography won out. Or maybe the saying is just true: "if Mama ain't happy, ain't no-one happy." The kids were playing in the yard while I wandered up the street a bit for photos and Justin dug. Then the whining started. So, we decided to walk down to Main St. to check things out.
By the time we got back it was close to lunch time and Justin and I were beginning to be at each other's throats. Tristan had to be carried back part of the way, Shannon was still unhappy that we hadn't gone sledding. An impromptu snowball fight did break out, but tears ensued when Tristan got snow on his face and couldn't comprehend that you just can NOT wipe snow off of your face with a snowy glove, no matter how many times you wipe.

The last time it snowed like this, I was in my freshman year of college. This house was still my mother's, and some friends and I came home to crash here and play. Things have changed.

Now, the walks need to be shoveled. The dogs have to considered: Whiskey went out in the snow just fine, but Jomo (who is much bigger than Whiskey) was too scared to go out (he's scared of everything). And then there were the chickens to think of. We covered their tractor before the snow started and had to dig it out and uncover it after the snow stopped. They can handle the cold, but they need a dry place to hang out. And, all the while, we were trying to deal with kids still too young to truly understand all of the above .. AND we're trying to deal with our own agendas and trying to learn to work together to get things done, to communicate better. To not snap at each other. (Fair little note here - I had/have PMS too .. so that made me extra nice to deal with)

In all of this though, we are lucky. We are very, very lucky that these were our issues to deal with, our hassles, our irritants. Interstates around us are shut down. Back-ups 20 miles long. Hundreds and hundreds of people stuck in their cars, needing rescue.
Our electricity stayed on. We had a solid roof over our heads, a warm house, plenty of hot cocoa (made with my homemade hot cocoa mix recipe: http://mamataneyskitchen.blogspot.com/2008/10/homemade-hot-cocoa-mix.html), and the joy of each other, knowing we were all safe together.

Life is definitely different living on an urban homestead. We did get to sledding, but chores came first. And, our chickens even decided to lay two eggs for us today (remember - we got none in November & since 12/14 we've only gotten 1 every other day). Tonight, we're eating pasture-raised pork chops with rice cooked in homemade turkey stock, and Justin and I are drinking some of our homebrewed Back Porch Brown Ale. Not a bad end to the weekend.

Rooskie Yazik

Documenting our unschooling journey is a challenge. Most days if you were a casual observer you would think we're not schooling our children at all. But they are learning, every moment of every day they're learning something new. One new thing they're learning is some Rooskie Yazik ~ Russian.

~Pryvet (hi/hello) from Shannon~

Shannon had really been showing a lot of interest in speaking things in foreign tongues. I use that phrase as both boys have taken to making up their own language as well as actually trying to learn other languages.
While I took Spanish in high school (even went to Spain), I must admit that having Spanish shoved down our throats lately by well-meaning PBS shows and characters ala Miss Rosa has made me rather sick of it. And, I'm also really tired of hearing about learning to speak Mandarin. This seems to be the new "white collar" language that is the subject of moms' conversations whenever a playgroup springs up. There is validity for learning both of those languages, and I won't put down anyone who does but, as usual, our path has led us in a different direction.

Why Russian? Well, I like it. I like hearing men speak it, there is something very masculine about the language to my ears. A kinda sexist statement, but the truth none the less. Also, and more importantly, the boys have a Babushka ("grandmother"). My step-mother is from the Ukraine, meaning one of their grandmothers is fluent in Russian. (For you persnickety folks, yes, we know there is a difference between Ukrainian Russian and Russian) That's just a gem there that can't be passed up!! Justin's grandfather also speaks a little Russian, so there is another bonus.

How have we been learning? Well, we debated a lot on this one. We looked at Muzzy, but heard a lot of bad reviews. Sitting our kids in front of tv so they can watch something in a foreign language over and over and over and over isn't exactly something we go "woo hoo, let's do that!" about. So we asked around. A good friend recommended Byki.com. A free site that teaches you with simple phrases, sounded out by someone speaking them as well as written in front of you.
So far we've learned the phrases: "hello/hi," "Good Morning," "Good Afternoon," "Goodbye," "No," "Yes," and "Excuse Me."

I say that we've learned them because we realized something. We couldn't expect Shannon to just magically learn a foreign language by clicking through some cards on the computer and hearing someone speak them to him. He needed to hear them during the day and be able to say them during the day. WE had to learn it all as well. The family that learns together ..... speaks Russian together ~ or something like that.
Submersion is the key. Of course, trying to submerse yourself in a foreign language without a fluent speaker living in the house with you, or around you constantly, is kinda like trying to learn to scuba dive (or at least snorkel) in a bathtub. You get the hang of it, the general idea of it, but it is a much slower process than just being tossed out there to the big blue sea.

And, of course, they still are learning proper English. Or American. And they're still learning manners and etiquette. AND we're Southern. That might not sound like it adds up to anything, but you haven't heard "Da ma'am" (yes ma'am) and "Nyet sir" (no sir) spoken with a slight Southern twang before. This was very evident when my step-mother tried helping us with pronunciation and I had to tell her "that IS what they're saying."
And Shannon, being the big brother that he is, has decided Tristan must also learn proper Russian. The main one is "Yzveeneete" which means "excuse me." Potty humor is naturally something hysterical to the boys, so we have lots of opportunities to use this phrase daily. If Tristan burps Shannon will quickly say "what do you say?" to which Tristan replies "Excuse me." (Point needed here - Tristan will say this on his own, without prompting, but Shannon likes to prompt and boss) Shannon will then look at Tristan and say "In Russian."

And so it goes that we all learn a little Rooskie Yazik. When we've gotten these phrases really downpat, we'll move add another set. No rush, just learning to scuba dive in the tub, we're not likely to find sharks.

Dasvedanya

Homeschoolers Havin' Fun

~How can you resist the park on a day like this?~


~Tristan, "rock climbing" at Longwood Park~


~Brave Tristan~


~Shannon, playing with a just-met friend .. because, you KNOW what an issue socialization is with homeschooled kids!!~


~You call it goofing off, I call it learning about nature~


~Peekaboo~


~Tristan showing off~


~Josie & Shannon, with Deirdre not paying attention to the camera~


~Josie, Shannon, & Deirdre, with Tristan running around off to the right there~

This is our little group of homeschoolers. There are a couple of the kids not pictured, but you get the idea. We meet every week at Longwood Park in Salem to let the kids run and play. Sometimes we even learn a little bit: lessons about playing nice with others; what's a hypocrite? .. it's what you get when you blend a hippo with a cricket!; sharing; what a female horse is called; don't eat holly berries; look, that's a ginko tree; and so on.
And, of course, there is the very substantial benefit of homeschooling parents getting to talk with each other. Getting the support that is desperately needed from a society that wants to doubt and criticize every step and action.
But, once again, how could you possibly spend a day as glorious as this INSIDE??