Never say never...

I'm sorely tempted to change the name of this weblog back to Never a Dull Moment. Or I'll name it No Time to Blog. Yeah, that might be most appropriate.
I came back from Holland just before Myrna's birthday and we did manage to make it into a bit of a festive day, but to be fair it was nothing compared to the weeklong celebrations she usually likes to have. She was very understanding about it, and I know that's just how it was and all that, but still... I would have liked to make her passage into being a teenager a bit more special. But then again, we could do something special sometime in the summer, when hopefully things have quieted down a bit.

It's probably obvious that my sister is not doing very well. And unfortunately with the hospital system being what it is, I really have to stay on top of things to make sure she's alright and being looked after and cared for in a way that she is happy with. Anyway, hopefully she'll be moved to a convalescent home on Monday and I'll be able to sit back a bit.

My niece, in the meantime, has passed her exams with mainly top marks! I am so proud of her, she has worked really hard for it. And, bearing in mind that after I left she had to look after herself, the dog and the household all by herself, she did such a magnificent job. She has certainly grown up and found her feet, under extremely difficult circumstances!
There will be a ceremony for her receiving her diploma and I'll be going to Holland to attend, not only because my sister won't be able to go, but also because I myself want to be there for my clan-daughter. I've arranged it so that we arrive in Holland for my Mum's 77th birthday (yes, birthdays are a big thing in Holland!) and can go to the diploma ceremony a few days later.
I'm saying 'we', because this time I'm taking Myrna and Owen with me.
We haven't had a holiday for years and even though this isn't going to be a relax-and-only-do-things-you-really-want-to-do kind of holiday, I'm going to try and fit in a few visits to friends and family and to do some nostalgic outings.
With Myrna.
Because Owen is going to stay with his best friend for the whole time. He doesn't do travelling unless he really, really has to. And he only occasionally does the kind of visits Myrna and I plan to do quite a lot of.
Owen is looking forward to being with his life long friend and to do all the things they always used to do. And that includes climbing trees, digging holes, building tree huts, etcetera. Now that they're both sixteen I imagine Owen's friend would also like to do other, more 'grown-up' things... and Owen will go along with him.
This friend's family are very, very good friends of ours, too. The kind of friends where it doesn't really matter if you don't see each other, and sometimes don't even speak with each other for a long time, and then when you do meet or speak, you just pick it up again and carry on.
They've supported us from day one in our home educating adventure. Openly, hands on, fully.
They live in one of the most beautiful spots in Holland, on the embankments of the River Rhine, and they built their extremely eco-friendly house themselves. It's one of those very rare places in Holland where you don't have other people living close to you, with lots of nature, birds, animals and what have you around.
Owen has always felt very much at home and at ease there. In fact, when he was five years old and we were driving home after I'd picked him up, he said to me: "I don't understand why I wasn't born as M's child, because I really belong there."
This certainly inspired us to find a place with an equivalent amount of space and nature around us in this country.

Myrna is looking forward to seeing old friends, too. And to visit places we used to go to when she was little, such as the Open Air Museum and the National Park. She's also very keen to take her keyboard and guitar and sing and make music with lots of people.

A lot of my time will go to visiting my sister and making sure everything that needs to be organized and arranged is dealt with. And I am so looking forward to seeing her and being with her again. We're on the phone at least twice a day, and that's okay, but there's nothing like real life contact, where not everything has to be put into words.

In the meantime it's a busy time here, with me trying to get my work finished four weeks before the deadline to be able to go to Holland, preparations for Myrna's participation in the Lanercost Festival and other concerts, Owen's Duke of Edinburgh activities with the Cadets, AL trying to find a suitable FE course whilst working hard at the same time, and all the 'normal' day to day things in a HE household. On top of that the building of the extension has started. If everything goes according to plan - does it ever? - that'll be ready in about eight weeks time. Owen will move in there and that will make his room available for a foster child.

Aw heck, I'm going to say it again:
Never a Dull Moment!!

I'm leaving the country...

but only for a while. A short while, I hope.
On Tuesday I'm going to Holland. My sister is in hospital again and I'm going to stay with her children for at least a week. My niece is in the middle of her final exams and these past few weeks it hasn't been easy for her to concentrate on her learning. Fortunately, her mentor is aware of the situation and is helping her any way he can. She goes to one of the best Steiner schools in Holland and enjoys going, she's actually thriving. I think if we'd still be living in Holland Myrna would probably want to go to that school and I wouldn't have any problems with it.
It's a shame there isn't such a school here, at least not anywhere close to where we are.
I find that even though home education is practically illegal in Holland, there is a wider range of school educational systems than in this country. Every major city has Steiner, Montessori, Jenaplan, Freynet schools as well as 'regular' ones, for all religious and non-religious walks of life. There are even quite a few private schools based on the Sudbury Valley School principles.
In this country educating your child outside the school system is a legal right, which cannot be appreciated enough. But - as far as I know, and I must admit I haven't done extensive research into the matter - there is a very limited choice of educational systems in schools. Which means that - unfortunately - the initial choice to home educate (or homeschool) is often a negative one: "I don't want to send my children to school." Instead of the positive: 'I want to home educate my child(ren) because I believe it's the best possible thing for them.'

In my eyes the difference in educational possibilities typifies the difference between the two countries.
Very generally speaking my impression is that in Britain things are more extreme, black and white, either / or, where in Holland there is a larger scale of greys.
Look at the difference in politics.
In Holland there are over thirty active political parties, of which I think twelve have representatives in the national parliament; the other ones are mainly active in local or regional politics.
And, as Wikipedia states, the UK is nearly but not quite a two-party system.

Anyway, I suppose I was just trying to say that my niece enjoys going to school and is very motivated to do well in her exams... which might sound like cursing in church on a home edders weblog ;), but I think it's wonderful and I can see her schoolgoing life genuinely suits her. She has spent a lot of time in our family, also here in England, and she absolutely agrees we're doing the right thing for us, but she's still adamant about preferring (her) school to home education for herself. And since she is a well balanced, confident, intelligent and happy girl I can only agree with her.

Obviously with my impending departure there are lists all over the house with 'things to do before I leave'. Also listed was getting the garden sorted. I'm not a very skilled gardener, but I just love putting my hands in the earth, digging and planting. I know it sounds silly, but I talk to every plant, tell them how pretty they are, why I bought them and how I hope they will feel comfortable and happy in our garden.
Only my little sedum plants didn't last very long. The morning after I planted them they were all dug up and in bits, poor things. First I blamed the cats, but then I saw from my bedroom window how the blackbirds were pecking at them, having a feast! Anyone knew that?
Ah well, such is nature, to eat or to be eaten.

So here's what I've been doing in the garden:

I don't like fencing, but we had this one put in to give AL some privacy in her conservatory. And to create a space behind the house where the dogs can wander around freely. On the street side I planted clematis and heather, so hopefully by next year this side of the fence will be colourfully covered.

Yes, the garden is only small and yes, Owen is a big lad :).

This charming spring flowering clematis grows just left of the front door and was a total surprise for us. There were just a few dead twigs there, until a week or two ago. And look at it now! And what about the hanging baskets (for the sake of symmetry there's another one on the other side of the door) with saxifraga in a colour matching the flower pattern in the stained glass window of the front door.

Myrna wanted a little rose garden, so we made this bed on the conservatory side of the fence with four rose bushes in different colours. And lavender - Myrna's other favourite - at their feet to keep the lice away.

Kitchen herbs are supposed to be planted by the kitchen door, but we don't have a kitchen door. And by the conservatory wouldn't be a good idea, because I don't want to have to go through AL's room - for reasons of self preservation and sanity. So these - mint, thyme and parsley - ended up by the front door....

together with these. The sedum still looked alright here :(.

And so this is what that side of the garden looks like now. Is it what you call a suburbian garden? I don't know. It suits the house and I'm happy with it, because I can just about manage it.

The garden in the Vicarage was so much bigger - about two football pitches - and so beautifully wild, with all kinds of wild flowers, apple and other fruit trees, high grass and all that. We didn't do much with it apart from mowing the bits where the mower wouldn't sink away in the mud. It was heaven for the kids when they were still climbing trees and building huts, and it was heaven for the dogs.

But they seem happy enough with where we are now. At least here we can go on walks along the river, where they can go off the lead without the risk of getting shot by a farmer who's worried about his sheep being upset. There's so many sides to life, isn't there? And different situations can be equally good. It all depends on what you need and want at that particular time.

We're happy here!

Metamorphosis

I finally managed to get my stories written and sent off to the publishers. Blimey, it took me at least three times the usual time and I'm not entirely happy about the last one. I wouldn't be surprised if it comes back to be rewritten. The brain is still not back to normal working order and I feel every one of my fifty years.
Ah well, I'll try and be British about it, but that doesn't come naturally to me ;).

I need to show you a major metamorphosis within our family.
My youngest girl is definitely and most convincingly not my baby girl anymore.
I knew that, of course. She has told and shown me many times. But still, you know, it's kind of hard to let go...
Now, the outside has been adjusted to the inside.
One day she was looking like a tall little girl, on the balancing wheel in the playground.


The next day, after a visit to the hairdresser, she's this guitar playing cool teenager.



Mystery is her middle name.



Ahhh, another month and she will be thirteen and that'll definitely be the end of me being the mother of young children. I'll try and make the most of that last month.

About that playground.
I'm considering writing to my MP about it (does that sound integrated and British?).
See, there's this sign above the entrance:



I think that's just so discriminatory. Myrna and her friends really enjoy going in there, and even Owen likes to come along every now and then. They're always very mindful, helpful and kind to little ones. (When there are any, that is, because we're usually there in school hours.) They push them on the swings, they hold them when they want to climb, they pick them up and take them to their parents when they fall...
Yet they're all - apart from Myrna - over twelve, most of them over fourteen.

When I have the dogs with me, I'll not go into the play area because I realize some children might be scared of them. So I stay just outside. But I wish I had a pound for every time a little child comes up to stroke or cuddle them. And they are so good with little children, they lie down flat and undergo all the attention patiently. They've never yet scared a child, or caused any damage, for that matter.

On Mondays I take Myrna to the local Music Centre where the choir rehearsals take place. I always stay there until they're finished, not only because I like to hear them sing, but also because otherwise Mrs Y, who takes the choir, would be the only adult in the building. The Music Centre is on the premises of a Primary School, in a fenced off area, behind big iron gates. I don't know how, but the other day a group of about six youngsters - all boys - managed to get onto the school yard and into the Music Centre. Within a few minutes they managed to kick over all the bins, pull the fire extinguisher off the wall and shout offensive and obscene language at the choir girls. I know I can be quite scary and authoritative if I have to, but I can't say they were very impressed. Between the two of us Mrs Y and I managed to persuade them to leave, but not before they'd caused a lot of damage and a real fright with the girls of the choir.
Now, I'm pretty sure not one of these boys was older than ten. I'd say they were closer to eight or nine years old.
Which means that, technically, they would be allowed to go into that playground.
So where's the sense in that? What's age got to do with it in the first place?
IF, and I say if there has to be a sign, couldn't it say something about behaviour and respect for other people / children and the equipment?

I'm sure people who know me have heard me sing this song before, but I'm convinced that our (adult) expectations determine a large part of the behaviour of young people. I'm aware of the fact that children within the home ed community often have a more positive picture projected onto them. And I'm also aware of the fact that the school system makes it more difficult for children to be different to what they're expected to be. But signs like this certainly don't help bring about a change in attitude. They make teenagers feel excluded. They send out this message that when you're past the age of twelve you do not play and have fun anymore. Instead, you're expected to display bad and destructive behaviour, which makes you a potential danger to younger children.
Okay, end of rant. I'm preaching to the converted here.

I might set up a good old English picket line outside that playground with over twelves carrying signs: "We want to play, too!" or "I am nice, trust me!" (although then 'they' might think these teenagers are juvenile paedophiles...) or "Socializing doesn't stop at twelve" or...

The horrible thing is that Myrna - my law abiding daughter - feels that if she goes to that playground with her over twelve friends, she is breaking the law. And that she can't go anymore once she's thirteen. We've talked about it, but she's still hesitant. She's convinced she'll get into trouble when the park wardens see her. So, I'm back to taking my child to the playground. To make sure that she's safe. And happy.
What a strange world we live in.

Pictorial catch-up

Myrna (and finally, for the seventh picture, she didn't press her lips together)


Owen, in his comfort zone and on WOW


Me (no, honest, I'm not gardening! Just pretending!)


Ken, (my dear, dear husband ;)



Our open plan living room, seen from back to front (Bobby dog in basket)


Same living room, now from front to back (with new book shelves!)


Stairs, door to Harry Potter room (left) and communal computer corner (right)


Da whole house, with faithful transport in the back


The kitchen (and new book shelves again!)


Our beautiful front door with beautiful Icelandic dog Lagsi


That's enough for one day, I would think.

Easter Asha

Finally figured out how to upload pics onto my laptop and now trying out if I still know how to get them onto a blog.

While others - dear blogfriends - are miles ahead of me and creating marvelous blog hubs with equally marvelous art work I am happy as Larry if I can make this work...

But if I do get this to work I can inundate you with piccies of everything that's dear to me! Ahh, isn't our Lady Asha just the loveliest Easter Pussy?

Let's see if I can import the fabulous piece of work the boys did the other day. It's made of so called Kapla, a Dutch (of course!) invention. All similar little bits of wood, planks, where height : width : length = 1 : 3 : 5. They first built this:

then pushed it over - as boys do - and built a copy of London Bridge! Of which I only have a picture on my mobile telephone and I haven't yet figured out how to get them onto here. But even though the building was amazing, the more amazing thing was that, instead of demolishing it with a big bang - as with the previous construction - they took it down one Kapla by one Kapla, trying to figure out which ones could be removed without collapsing it! At a certain moment there were five of us sitting around, taking turns, discussing which plank should be taken out. Great fun! And one of these moments that would tick a lot of the boxes on the educational list.
Okay then, just for the heck of it, a few: maths, engineering, architecture, history, social interaction and working together, a lot of drama and of course tidying up afterwards. Ah, tidying up is not one of the boxes? Explains a lot, doesn't it?

Right then, get ready for more piccies in the near future. I'm learning and liking this!

Ostara and new foundations

Thank you so much to everybody out there who's supported me with their thoughts, prayers and good wishes while I was in hospital. At times I literally felt it and it worked like magic, because it all went very well and I'm on the mend.
Will have to take things easy, can't drive for at least two or three weeks, no hoovering, no digging in the garden, no lifting heavy things, and all that. But I'm sure I'll manage that without too much trouble.

If ever I had a lesson in letting go and trusting the process I had it in the past week. On the day I was admitted my sister in Holland was taken to hospital, too. Not planned.
And then the next day, when I came out of surgery, Ken told me that apparently my mother had had some sort of a heart attack and was in hospital, in the special care unit.
Now, in any other circumstances I would have been on the first plane out. But that was just no option. At all.

All I could do was lie there and practise radical acceptance.
In an attempt to do so I dipped deep into the healing energy that was being sent to me by so many friends, and I dipped deep into my own strength. And I cried and cried for hours. The nursing staff was so good about it. I explained briefly what I was trying to deal with and that I would really like them to draw the curtains around me and just leave me in my own 'private bubble', as Owen calls it. And they did.
I wish I could say I've got it all sussed now and that everything's under control, but I would be lying. Well, who wants to be in control, anyway.
I suppose lying in a hospital bed with needles and tubes in your body makes it kind of easy to accept you really can't go anywhere. That wasn't the hardest part.
No, there were other issues that, strangely enough (?) I'd been trying to get a grip on in the weeks before I went in, that were a lot tougher. Issues like what happens with me when my Mum takes ill or feels bad, the mechanisms I then fall into, the denial of my own needs and cravings. Issues about unconditional and conditional love. The different feelings I had about my sister and my Mum. The guilt trip I go on about these feelings... etcetera etcetera.

I was so happy to come home and to be able to speak on the phone with both my sister and my Mum. It was good to know that one of my other sisters (I have three) is looking after my Mum. She knows all the medical stuff, she professionally deals with doctors every day and she'll make sure my Mum gets everything she needs. It gives me space to let go of that terribly twisted feeling of responsibility, which in actual fact has more to do with guilt and therefore creates anger...
My sister came out of hospital yesterday. Talking to her, heart to heart, soul to soul, even for a few minutes the first time, I immediately felt the flow of unconditional love and I also felt it was okay, okay to need each other, okay to be connected. Because the way we are connected we exchange, we share, but we do not absorb each other. I do not need to feel responsible for her in any other way than to give her who and what I truly am.
And I am - in every sense of the word - her Sister.

I am really tired now. The days seem to last twice as long as normally, I have lost my sense of time and even place every now and then. I have tried to help cook a special meal today, but I couldn't stay on my feet for very long.
I did feel a bit sorry for not having done anything about Ostara this year. But I suppose this year I am celebrating Ostara by living it. The time for new beginnings, rebirth and balance.
This year at Ostara I've had the foundations under my motherhood strengthened.
Under a practically full moon.
Slowly but surely the picture is getting clearer, the bits of the jigsaw are falling into place.

This all probably looks like the ramblings of a recovering mind, making not much sense. And I'll stop writing, because the thoughts that are now entering my head haven't found words yet. And certainly not in English ;). But my body is a lot more relaxed now than when I started writing this post.
I'm going to close my eyes and ponder about Ostara and the time of radical changes it brings along.