Tuesday, 28 August 2012

Catching up again

We are home now.  And it's good to be home.  The last leg of our trip was fabulous, where we stayed with the wonderful folks at Milford House in Nova Scotia.  We were immersed in the great outdoors, with few, if any, outside or technological distractions (think no Internet).  And this was good.

I did still keep up my writing, so as it is after 1:00 am Nova Scotia time (while only 10:00 pm Saskatchewan time), I'm going to simply copy and paste those writings here to catch you up.

Take care, and have a lovely week.

August 26, 2012…It’s so peaceful here

We’re on to the last leg of our trip.  We took the ferry from Saint John, New Brunswick to Digby, Nova Scotia and wound our way to Milford South.  Chris found this wonderful area that rents cabins, at a place called Milford House.  Right now, I’m sitting on our porch, looking at the lights of the cabins dance on the lake.  In fact, our cabin has its very own dock, which all of my children promptly made there way to within seconds of getting here.  Nothing seemed better than dangling feet off that dock!

And the cabin itself is so cozy.  It is truly a summer-only cabin, but it felt like home from the minute we walked in.  It is the type of place we could spend weeks in.  From the porch that overlooks the lake, to the rustic furniture, floors and walls and brick fireplace, to the smells of the pines and firs, to the sounds of frogs croaking and fish splashing, it is pure heaven.  We’re seriously considering ditching the rest of our planned outings and just having free time out here, because free time is important too.  And there is much to be learned from canoeing and hiking and fishing, and having lazy afternoons with our feet in the lake while we work out the details of those stories we started conjuring up while in the Haunted Wood not too long ago.  Learning about listening to and following our hearts, because only our hearts know when we need time to ground ourselves, when we’ve been so far from the familiar for what is, relatively, a long time for my little ones.  Learning about a slower pace of life that is far away from airports or highways.  Learning about simple pleasures.  Learning to enjoy the silence of the modern world. 

I take a deep breath in as the wind brushes my face.  It feels good here.

August 27, 2012…Land ho!

We pretended to be explorers, English pioneers to be exact, this morning and afternoon.  We traveled by canoe and entered unknown (to us) waters.  We pretended we were coming ashore at a Miq’maq camp, where we exchanged warm greetings and joined together to fish for our supper.  In actuality, we canoed to a beach and played in the water.  With the confidence that comes with wearing a life jacket, Jaelyn was able to swim to the dock not far from the beach.  Nicholas gathered enough courage to tumble off the dock and be towed to shore by his father.  We snacked and then set sail for our cabin.  We stopped at an island in the lake to explore.  Despite the island being smaller than our cabin, there were some finds.  There were little tiny frogs, a tadpole, minnows, rocks, seaweed…  Who knew you could find so much in such a small space.

Now, there’s nothing but the rest of the afternoon ahead of us…Astrin is laying down for her nap for the first time in ages and Nicholas and Jaelyn are still in their life jackets…Nicholas digging for bait and Jaelyn wading in the water swinging a stick around wildly.  From the porch, Chris is fiddling with the camera and taking a few shots, and I’m reclining and writing.  The air still smells lovely, the leaves are rustling in the wind but it is, curiously, not brushing our skin.  We have absolutely nothing planned for the rest of the day, except supper.  So, maybe I’ll convince Chris that we could rent a fishing rod, perhaps we’ll play a game, perhaps it will be silent enough for me to come up with some ideas for a few children’s stories I’d like to write.

You see, while on this trip, we’ve been more acutely aware of our conversations about what we refer to as our moral compasses and the voices we use when we talk to others.  I’m drawn to the Waldorf perspective and using stories as a mirror – to emotionally involve the child in the behaviour of others so they can think of the choices they make in their own behaviour.  I’ll be using Healing Stories for Challenging Behaviour as a guide as I write these stories.  And to tell the truth, I may even use a board game we have, Create-a-Story, to help me build the bones of the stories.  And even though these resources are at home and I am here, I think I can still come up with a few ideas while I’m surrounded by such beauty and have some rare and blessed free time. 

Of course, I likely won’t use my children’s names in the stories, and I likely won’t even use people – my stories will likely star animals as the main characters.  In fact, I’m sure I’ll be using their favorite animals as the protagonists.  And since I won’t have a large store of my own stories soon, we’ll pick up some books of fables and spend time each morning, before we set out into the world, reading through them.  Ideally, I would have a theme for each week.  Realistically, I know it will take me lots of time doing research to go that route, and that just starting bring us benefits.  And perhaps my foray into writing stories for my children will further inspire them to start writing stories of their own.

I promise to share once those stories are ready to go (and I’ve gathered up all my courage, too!)

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