Our Little House

We
spent
the
past
summer
reading
the
Little
House
series
of
books.

Wren has adored the first four and we are saving the rest for Christmastime. Over the years I have stashed 1/4 scale dolls and accessories away in hopes of someday building a replica of the Little House home on the prairie. Finding things in this scale is quite difficult but I have found salesman's samples of household goods to work very well. Most are old, however I am always surprised to find that they arrive in good condition. Our plan is to gather all the items first- which may take years, and then build the house around the three rooms we complete. The original Little House had just a Keeping Room separated with a quilt for the parents sleeping area, a loft for the girls, and a lean to off the back of the house.


A lot of detail is given in the books about what the Ingalls had and did not have. Originally, I had planned to do a dollhouse a lot like that of Tasha Tudor's, but I feel now that there is a very valuable lesson to be learned from recreating the simplicity of a pioneer's life. It is a dual lesson in make-do along with a reality of how hard life was for people back then. Since we use wood stoves to heat our home, Wren is very familiar with the cast iron beauties, but learning that they also were responsible for heating all the Ingalls food and baking has been an eye opener for her.

The rope bed is not an unfamiliar concept as most of our beds have been on slats, one of them being a reproduction where the holes are visible where the ropes would have been. We used a sewing machine to make a burlap hemp tufted mattress, surely an extravagance in Laura and Mary's day as they would have most certainly slept on hay stuffed mattresses. A gingham sheet and handmade patchwork quilt provide the dolls with snug evenings. We have yet to find a sixteen inch Laura doll and hope to find one in blue. We will simply switch out the girls clothes to have Laura in red and Mary in blue, just like the books. These are the details that Wren picks up on. One of the neat things about our Mary is that she is wearing a simple bead necklace, just like the one the girls make for Carrie from the Indian beads they find with Pa when walking to the deserted Indian camp.

The girls have a pair of snowshoes and old wooden skis, both familiar concepts to Wren as we love winter sports. We sometimes snowshoe up the half mile to retrieve the mail at the road, and there are a lot of times that I would much rather shoe our way out than risk sliding off the road into the ravine or lake. Winter in the country can be a hair raising affair.
So our next book in the series is A Long Winter as we saved Farmer Boy for next summer. I think this will be a good story for the coming winter, as I do believe we are in for a long winter ourselves.

A Barrel of Monkeys

Real Life sometimes hits you in the oddest of moments.
This has been a busy morning. We have yet another rainy day and I have a list of things to accomplish a mile long. There is no school for my oldest pumpkin today and she is bouncing off the walls. During breakfast I was able to do my writing for one of my favorite "foodies", and the subject matter made me HUNGRY! Once the kitchen clean up was finished after breakfast, it was immediately time to make lunch. I wondered if I could fit in a batch of homemade cookies in the process? Sure, why not? When you have this much to do in one day a batch of cookies does not make or break you. An added benefit is that it grabs the attention of two children for a full forty five minutes. Once lunch was over and the promise of cookies after a nap is lulling around in their heads, nap time is coming along pretty nicely. One down one to go... I am sitting on the couch fumbling with a Barrel of Monkeys and my three year old is showing me how "Daddy does a double monkey". I am intrigued I realize, not because of the feat of the double monkey, but because I realize that my house at times is just like this game. A Barrel of Monkeys, and I am trying to string everything together nicely. Let's face it, one mom, two children under four, a big lumbering dog, and two cats spells chaos in any sense of the imagination. House clean and perfect- no. Children clean and perfect- no. Mom- most certainly no. One of the cats has just chased the lumbering dog in a round about that has ended with the papers from my morning's writings everywhere. My phone conversation with my little sister in Florida earlier had me thinking the tiredness in her new mom's voice echoed mine. I jokingly said, "it takes a village". A large part of me wasn't joking. It is no wonder we are all so tired all of the time. I think we now live in an age where demands on each family unit are so great that the "village" no longer exists. I used to think, too, that the reason of people living apart was the main foible. Now I know this is not the case. Even people who live right next door do not always have the ability or time to pitch in- and this goes both ways. I cannot tell how many times I have been phoned for a favor that I just could not do at that moment. You feel terribly about it but also realize that one more thing under your nose at that moment and all things might just go haywire. Just like that chain of monkeys, the likelihood is that it will all fall apart if I try to do one more thing. The economy demands that we use every spare moment right now just trying to survive, but none of the other "work" lets up either. It is the busy time for growing food, maintaining the house outside, and most families have children at home now that school has let out. So how do we cope? I find that we have to begin to get a "village" mentality back in our lives. I find this a topic of conversation more and more amongst my friends. A very close friend said recently, and I am paraphrasing, that we have to find a way to keep what is good in our circle. I have taken this to heart. What changes will occur in my life as I get back to the business of survival in this tough economy will be taken with this advice in mind. Who knew a little children's game could open up so much space for reflection?

Farewell to May

It seems
just
yester-
day we
were
tying
ribbon
to the
light
post
in
hope
for May
to
arrive.

Here she is come and gone after tomorrow...time spent out of doors passes so quickly. I spent the greater part of May tending to the vegetable gardens and rotating the weeding of the flower gardens. It has rained here in the Ohio River Valley at what seems to be the optimum waterfall conditions for weeds! My daughter looks forward to the Maypole every Spring. I find it intriguing that most little girls who visit our home in May know exactly what to do with the ribbons. No matter the age, if a little girl can walk, those ribbons just beckon to be held and run in circles. Peels of giggles and entanglement ensue, and it is all quite lovely to watch. Maybe such old traditions really are stored in the genes? Most parents of the children look at me in wonderment as their girls run with the ribbons saying that they have never seen a real Maypole. I smile, because while the child might never have seen one in real life, they may store images from Fairy Tales, both told and imagined, in the depths of their memory. We will miss the colorful ribbons blowing in the wind as we turn toward June. The exchange will be colorful flowers in the gardens from now until late Autumn. One thing is certain, there will still be little girls running in the front lawns in circles!

Radish Repair

It was
quiet...
and it
wasn't
nap time.

This is never a good sign. It can only mean one thing. I will be cleaning up something- or repairing something. It usually means I left something out in the open that I shouldn't have. Yes, sure enough, I left out the play scissors. We had been cutting paper figures a few hours before and I must have left the scissors within reach. The casualties of the day were five play wood radishes, two crocheted play fruit shopping bags, a play wooden tea bag, a pair of doll undies, and a doll headband. The scissors must have been moving at lightning speed as I was making breakfast. I was a little upset until I realized Wren has been talking about haircuts. Thank goodness this hadn't crossed her mind during the destruction. The tea bag was set right with some more string- the second repair mind you. The undies and headband, along with the fruit bags, met a garbage can. I was upset about the crocheted bags more than anything- these I cannot fix. I wandered upstairs and pulled out my felt batch. It has been pulled out many times before for jobs such as this. I cut five new sets of leaves and put them in place. Coyly, Wren says to me. "See Mama, I like this green so much better. It's why I cut them off- so you could change them." Right, not likely. She was, simply, immersed in some kind of scissor mania- that is all.

Now, if only I could do something for these poor little radishes. These are our test French radishes for the garden this Spring. After tonight's full moon, they'll go straight into the garden. Maybe Mother Earth will work some magic on them.

The Story Time Tent

Every so

often I come upon

an idea

that I

just have

to try out.

The idea for this story time tent came from Wondertime magazine a few months back. The magazine ran a story about creating these little places of magic and one graced their cover that I thought was just beautiful. A dear friend gave me a subscription to the magazine for Mother's Day last year, and I have to say that I have been surprised by the number and quality of creative ideas their staff writers come up with. My favorite past time with my children is reading to them. Nap times and bedtimes are best, but so are rainy days spent up in the playroom in our attic. For some time now I have wanted them to have a reading nook and have been pondering the most suitable place for one. I liked the idea of a tent immensely since it was not a permanent structure. I move the children's playthings around from room to room every few months and I did not want this to be an exception. It was so incredibly easy to put together. Nothing more than an eye hook sunk into a beam, a netting secured with a carabiner to the hook, a strand of Holiday lights, an old velvet Harlequin patterned tree skirt for the floor, some cushions, and best loved books. The netting itself was so inexpensive but I spent some time finding one that had character. This one has a circular hoop at the top to help with the tent effect, two pale shades of blue and lilac netting, ribbon streamers in white, and ribbons to tie back the door panels. It came with butterflies attached to the netting, but because these were not very realistic in appearance, I used a seam ripper very carefully and removed them. I had some clear sewing thread and used this in various places to attach the Holiday lights to the netting. Out of a stash of old linens I found some beautiful plaid Designers Guild pillow covers and these lay about to prop books and elbows, and some sleepy heads. The whole project took less than a half hour from the time I started. When the children went upstairs to the attic this evening for a bedtime story they knew something was happening since we always do our bedtime story in bed. I plugged the lights in and the children's faces lit up too. Both sat at my knee enveloped in the tent and spent most of their attention looking up at the billows of netting and the twinkling lights. The tent had just the effect that I was looking for. I carried two sleepy babies down to bed and they were in dreamland as soon as their heads met their pillows, probably seeing stars in their dreams right now.

Note: The story time tent works really well in our attic because the whole tent can be draped over the stairwell and beyond reach of little hands when not in use. The carabiner attachment also makes it really easy to take down and stash away. I would never leave children unattended in this type of structure- netting, ribbons, and electric lights can be very dangerous if parental supervision is not constant.

Grandfather's Rocker

The
rocker
seemed
so big
to me
when
I was so
small.

I can remember turning the rocker on its end so that I might slide down its back. Back then, the rocker was painted pure white, and had my name affixed proudly to its seat back in cursive letters. It seemed a long slide down to the floor, so I must have been only about a year old. I always say I can't remember much before the age of three, but this activity I remember with clarity. This little rocker has been in our family for a long time. It was my mothers and her three sisters long before it was mine. Her Grandfather made it for her, along with a little drop leaf table, a china hutch, and a set of drawers. All of these pieces were made back in the 40's and we are lucky enough to have gathered all the pieces here at Hawk's Run with the exception of the hutch. I grew up with both the rocker and the drop leaf table. The chest of drawers I had not known about until recently when my aunt asked if I would like to have it. Her own Grandchildren did not need it and she knew we used the other pieces every day. So one day she loaded the chest of drawers up in the back of her vehicle and made the drive down. I will forever be grateful. For years I have thought about the missing hutch with some degree of sadness. My mother's family moved from Indianapolis when she was an older girl and there was no room on the moving truck. To all the children's dismay, it was left behind. I have often wondered while roaming through antiques malls and various estate sales if the little hutches I have seen could be the hutch from Indianapolis, or one similar. The chances would be like finding a needle in a haystack, but I never lose hope of finding it someday. When my little sister outgrew the rocker it was stored in an attic for a lot of years. When I had my children it was brought back out, but it had suffered some damage to its finish from being stored away for so long. My husband, who is one of the best antique restorers I have ever seen, took it back to the original wood, and gave it a finish that looks as if it had been there for years. In most cases, we would never remove a paint finish, but we had no idea of the lead content of the original finishes, and since it was to be used by our children, we made an exception. The little table was also restored back to its original color and given the same age treatment. We are so fortunate to have these heirlooms in our home, and I think that my Great Grandfather would be pleased to know that we love them like we do. When Wren turned one, my Father in Law presented her with a Windsor rocking chair that he finished himself. She was so proud the day we put it in her bedroom. I wonder at times where these things will be three generations from now, in Wren's grandchildren's possession. It is a concept difficult for me to even grasp, much as it was probably for my mother's Grandfather. Teddy bears and dolls have been rocked, told stories to, been called to tea, and stored countless treasures over the years in the rocker, the table, and the dresser. I wish I knew the stories the hutch had to tell. Perhaps, one day, we will find out. It sure would be nice to have it home.

Simple Pleasures

In 1816
the
Scotsman
Sir David
Brewster
invented
one of the
most
fascinating
curiosities
ever.
He named his curiosity in three parts, the Greek word "Kalos" for beautiful, "eidos" for form, and "scopos" for watcher. Thus, the "beautiful form watcher" was born, known to us today simply as the Kaleidoscope. American Charles Bush came along in 1873 and made improvements on Brewster's Kaleidoscope and the form we see today benefits from those improvements. I think on a rainy gray day waiting for Spring to arrive, there may be no greater pleasure than to lie flat on one's back, eyes to the light of a window, Kaleidoscope in hand, turning the dial on the end of what appears to be a simple tube, exploring the endless variations in an explosion of color. As with many simple pleasures, my favorite Kaleidoscope is one that costs practically nothing. It is made by Schylling, a simple metal affair, loaded with nothing more than beads that couldn't be sold for a penny apiece. But when placed together at the end of our scope, magic happens. One day this winter we were having a little knit together and the conversation turned towards the Hubble telescope. I find this, too, to be mesmerizing. One thing lead to another and the conversation ventured into snowflakes. There was a theme here. Like beads at the end of our Kaleidoscope, outer space and the precious snowflake, have infinite possible combinations. Each time you look, it is something totally different. The children grasp the idea of the Kaleidoscope, and understand to a degree the changes in the night sky, but it occurred to us adults that perhaps they didn't know what a snowflake looked like up close. We quickly brought up an array of snowflake close ups on the Internet, a moment when technology is at its best. How to explain those intricate designs that no human could possibly recreate. The children said, it's just like the Kaleidoscope when the beads all fall into place and stick into a picture. Well now, indeed it is.

Favorite Things

I love

children's
playthings.

Especially

things

that need

organized

and sorted.

I'm a sucker for anything that sets a scene. Couple that with vibrant colors and organic materials and I become a lifelong fan. A playroom can only support so many themed areas, thank heavens, but the objects I continue to discover for children are just too wonderful not to tell someone about. Today I found Ostheimer toys. Simply amazing. Handcrafted from natural woods and still made in Germany, their toys elevate an object of play to that of family heirloom. Non toxic muted colors make each object a piece of art, and I wouldn't be too surprised to find that a lot of orders arrive at homes with grown up children. It would cost a small King's ransom to build an entire farmyard, however, I think it would be money well spent. When Wren was just an infant, we found Haba toys at a local shop. I have been buying their wooden toys without fail ever since. Had I known about Ostheimer...the mind reels. The children's wooden kitchen set from Plan Toys here at our house is the most entertaining place in their world. Countless concoctions have been served up within its cozy environment and it is a play set we build on every holiday. The same holds true for their wooden animal zoo set from the wooden toy maker Anamalz. With a wooden elephant in one hand and an animal discovery book in the other, imagination is brought to life at a pace that even the real zoo cannot provide. The trips to the real zoo become all the more special when met with an understanding of that living breathing miracle in front of them. There are so many things for children to discover. I am so grateful to people like the craftsmen and women of companies like Ostheimer for coloring the world in such a way that it makes life a true pleasure to be experienced by our children. I found it ironic that Ostheimer was once put out of business in the late 30's when plastics arrived on the toy scene. There is now one of the highest callings for wood toys ever in a world still far too dominated by plastics. When I pick up the kids toys at the end of the day I still find the beauty of their objects humbling...plastic never did that for me.

On Vegetables in the Bathtub and Eavesdropping

I am now pretty confident that the best insight as to how you are doing as a parent is paying attention to how your children play.

Santa Claus brought a dollhouse to our two year old daughter last Christmas. She was way too young, of course, but I had explained to Mr. Claus that these items seemed to be getting more and more expensive. It kind of seemed like now or never at the time, and Santa presented a pretty great package deal. We recruited her grandparents and aunts to help with the add-ons, which by the way, are never ending. I figured at the very least it would be something she would enjoy because of all the bright colors and movable pieces. The dollhouse stayed in the great room of our house for about a month, and then all those movable pieces started to get under my skin. They were traveling everywhere. The dollhouse then traveled up to the attic playroom and this helped to contain all the little pieces. I am not the parent who can just plop all the pieces into a box and leave it there for next time- I am the kind of parent who puts each little part back in its place. Anyone who has Playmobil sets around the house will know what I speak of. It is maddening. I humbly salute and envy "box parents". Like all children, if you are paying attention, my daughter's play was becoming more and more complex. She was talking to her dolls and making them talk to each other. Grammy and Grandpa in Florida slipped into the roles of the doll grandparents, and she was identifying herself as the little blond haired girl doll. This is when I brought the dollhouse back downstairs and into my bedroom. We co sleep, even though my daughter has her own room, and the baby is in my room too. So we spend a lot of time there in the mornings and before bed, two perfect times for play. A lot of times I am right down on the floor with her, but at others I like to give her some time to develop her own sense of how she would like to play. This is where the shameless eavesdropping began. I have noticed that she assumes the mommy role when I am not in the bubble of play with her. It is interesting and downright funny to hear how she deals with situations that she dreams up with the dolls. She reenacts events from the last few days and seems to especially enjoy being mommy to her baby brother who always is the infant in the doll set. I think at this point she just can't imagine him ever being the big boy in the dolls. The dolls were making dinner the other night and there was a problem. The garden vegetables needed washing and the kitchen sink does not have a basin. So she put them all in the bathtub. Very smart, I thought to myself. Then she did something interesting...she removed the dining table and just placed the tub in the middle of the four chairs so everyone could eat straight from the tub. Dolls lead an interesting life. It makes me realize that children desperately need a place where there are no rules. If you want to eat dinner out of the tub, so be it. It has also made me realize that I do enough cleaning as it is in our real house, so I have vowed to let the dollhouse just be messy. I may even get a box for all the small parts littering my bedroom floor. It's an important start, because Santa is working on a Playmobil farm for next Christmas.