Tails and Tidings: Good-bye, Hello

Inez, our beloved goat, died.  Last Saturday, Henry came in from his morning animal feeding chores and announced, "Inez is dead."  We all looked at each other, and started hugging, and crying a little.  I felt bad for Henry, to have to find her.  I pitied poor Tofu, our pig, who came from the shelter with her best buddy, the pretty little goat.  Geza and I, mostly stunned, dug a deep hole in the backyard, where Goat Mountain used to stand, and buried her under a tree.  The whole thing was surreal, because while it was sad, and we feared we could have prevented it and didn't, it was also very quiet.  And just, over.  She was already gone.

I remember how well she weathered the five hour drive down from Quilcene, Washington.  She and Tofu, exiting their barn in our backyard every morning made me feel like I was living in a children's book.  My heart melted when I heard our neighbor children call to her in Spanish, "Chivito, Chivito!" and melted even more when I heard their dad out there with them one evening.  And, when I came out to the backyard one afternoon to see our neighbor feeding her baby in a high chair parked next to our fence, facing our backyard, I knew it wasn't because she was admiring Goat Mountain.   Inez, who was called Wanda by the good folks at the Center Valley Animal Rescue, brought a special beauty everywhere she went, along with that special impish charm only goats possess.  Well, goats and Martin Short.   Inez taught us a lot, and we will miss her very much.
 

Emotionally, we have moved on quickly, all the more appreciative of the life we are living here, and the other creatures we get to share it with.  We wanted to be more involved with Tofu, to help her transition to life alone.  I made a little spot in our laundry room ready to bring her indoors, when I knew bad weather was headed our way.   I attempted to coerce her, through bribery and a whole sequence of hilarious physical antics (the likes of which can only be set to the music of a symphony of kazoos), involving delighted neighbor children, microwave popcorn, and ramps, to no avail.  The pig would not enter the building.  It was as if each time she cast her eyes around the dump that is my laundry room she declared, "THIS HOLE?  Not on your life!  And now, I shall gallop merrily around the driveway! Tra-la!"

So, there I sat with a straw-filled nook in my laundry room, and a feeling.  Then, I checked Facebook, as I am known to do now and then.  I read an urgent notice from Tillamook Animal Shelter, stating that, in the raging storm, two refugees came into their care.  One animal was a young pregnant dog, who could use a warm homey environment to finish out her pregnancy, have her puppies, and take care of them in their first weeks of life.  I talked to Geza and he agreed immediately.  I called the shelter, and they agreed to letting us take her in.  She is currently at my feet, snoozing and sighing as only a big pregnant mom can.  I should know.

 Now, I'm not one to get all Elton John on reader, but The Circle of Life has been scraping its way through my brain all day.  It's just too much that we barely mourn the passing of a dear animal companion, when another one blows into our lives?  Granted, this is a temporary situation.  She may belong to somebody nearby, who will call the shelter and be reunited with her very soon.  But, if she stays, and has her puppies here, we are all the lucky ones, because we were the right place at the right time for a soul who needed shelter.  That is a gift.  Who knows what the future holds, and who cares?  We have now.  We have each other.  Hug your chickens.

365 TV-Free Activities: Crime Bites

We've been plowing through our year-long commitment  and today, our dining room became a small restaurant.  But first, I whipped up a batch of Play Modeling Clay (advanced, idea #248)

This is 3 cups of flour, 1 1/2 cups of salt, 1 tablespoon of cream of tartar, 3 cups of water, and 2 tablespoons of cooking oil, all colored and cooked up.  After combining the ingredients, I poured the runny results into a series of small containers, so I could color and cook them up separately.  Once I added the desired amount (I tend to double that) of food coloring, I heated up the pasty mixture over medium heat, stirring constantly, until it started to become IMPOSSIBLE to stir.  Plopped it onto a cutting board and let it cool; it was ready to use after a few minutes of kneading.

I chose red, green, yellow, and brown for my modeling clay colors, because I thought they would be the best for making a luscious banquet such as the one you see before you. 

O, the whimsy! We all made a contribution. Tiny fries with tiny ketchup. Pizza! Chips! Fruit! A platter of chocolate chip cookies. A cob of corn, covered with individually sculpted kernels. And, how will somebody eat that crisp healthy salad in the blue bowl? Why, with the tiny red fork, of course.

Okay, so we got our food all set, now time for restauranting (idea #263). Instead of making a menu, Thomas' restaurant offered cafeteria-style dining, with a fun family atmosphere. You like it? Grab it, and pretend to eat it.  But first, you must pay with cash.  So, hit the ATM if all you brought was plastic. 

(Currency Games idea #146)  Yesterday, Henry made this little ATM with our big abacus and paper. He made a card, and money to go with it, all from cardstock. In the Currency Games activity, kids make money, decorate it symbols, and devise a value system. There is the basic unit; Henry went with the dollar. From there, the other bills were quantities of dollars, and the coins were fractions of a dollar, as it goes with the U. S. currency system. It could be switched around or the unit could be called something else. Something silly, like slap.  "That'll be 50 slaps, please." or "Hey buddy, can you spare half a slap?" 

Anyway, back to the restaurant.

Thomas was the proprietor/waiter and was happy to bring George anything that caught his eye, and refill his drinks, of course.

mmmmmmmm

mmmmm?

I wish this story didn't end with a heinous crime, but while George was enjoying his salty supper, a local thug wrecked the ATM and made off with all of the cash.  Thomas needs to hire some security, if he doesn't want to lose customers.  I nominate the pig.  She's strong, has a mean streak, and will accept anything edible as payment.  Even play dough salad.

Brainstorms: Thanks

This is a Blue Hubbard Squash, we grew in the garden.

Here is the same Blue Hubbard squash, with rock'n roll fingers.  Thanks, Thomas.

Here is that same Blue Hubbard squash, with a turkey head.  Did I mention this squash will probably be featured prominently in our Thanksgiving dinner?

Here is Mae, calling it a chicken, only she says "chkn".  She is also eating leftover pumpkin stew out of an old hummus container.  I feel like I might be losing you here.  Perhaps, a little background:

See, every year, one of my good friends, also a mom and lover of learning, does a November-long activity with her two beautiful children, leading up to Thanksgiving Day. I am lavishing her and her children with praise, because I want her to know that we are not mocking her wonderful project, with our bizarre recreation of it.  Every November morning, her children offer one thing they are thankful for, to be written on a paper turkey "feather" and added to the back of a turkey figure. This is a little like it, only hers are much cuter, with the turkey facing you, and the feathers made from a variety of pretty paper.

So, I told the kids about it, and they felt we should do it.  Only one thing, we don't eat the celebrated bird on the holiday of dubious origins.  We do eat a lot of stuff we like, however, and will probably slay and prepare our vegetables with a sense of gratitude.  And so, Thomas fashioned a paper and duct tape turkey head, and Hubbard, the Blue Squash of Thankfulness was born.  He sits on our shelf, accumulating daily feathers, bearing the names of things we love.  Today was day one.  Mae is grateful for Pandora, the online radio that fills our house with cumbia music all day (my thing to be grateful for, coincidentally).  George thanks Netflix for Kipper, Henry is thankful there is pastry in the world, and Thomas appreciates a little thing known as Mankind.  I can't wait to see what they say tomorrow.