four&twenty

One Big Leaf

Practicing Gratitude

Hands down, Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Once the festivities for Halloween have passed I am so excited to begin the journey towards that fourth Thursday in November. Thanksgiving just seems to embody all that is good in a holiday: great and abundant food, time with family and friends, a meaningful and profound history, and a freakishly enduring lack of materialism (not counting Black Friday). It doesn't carry the frenetic stress and pressure that Christmas often has, and who doesn't like a four day weekend?

Above all, Thanksgiving provides a reason to openly, regularly, and creatively practice gratitude. This is something so important to me as a person and as a mom, but if I'm honest it's not always the orientation of my heart and mind. At least for the month of November I'm reminded to focus on it and last year I had an impromptu idea to help me and my family make "giving thanks" a daily discipline. It came together so easily and beautifully. Here's what we did:

I pulled out some card stock and had my toddler paint one side with a burnt umber color we created by loosely mixing red, orange and brown paint. We used acrylics but tempura would work just fine, even watercolors could make a beautiful transparent and layered effect.

Once the paint dried, I simply started cutting out simple leaf shapes about four inches in length. Older kids could easily do this part too.

We cut out enough leaves so that each family member would have a good handful leading up to Thanksgiving. I put them in a wire basket with a pen and placed it on our dining room table. Almost every night, or when inspiration struck, we would take a minute to write something we were thankful for on a leaf and it would get placed back in the basket.

Our tradition on Thanksgiving morning is to share a special brunch together, just the four of us. We read and talk about the amazing history of the courageous pilgrims, we pray, we look through our Thanksgiving scrapbook and we reminisce about past family celebrations. Then we take time to read out loud all of the things we've written down over the course of the last few weeks.

There is something powerful about speaking these blessings out loud to one another, and having them written down to look back on. It's an amazing start to a full and fun day, and it helps us to grasp hold of the fact that life is filled with so many gifts, even in the midst of struggle, challenges and loss. Our attitude and perspectives are aligned with what we have, instead of what we're lacking or what we want. Quite simply, we feel content. I love Thanksgiving!

– Tracey

A Bike of His Own

Fixed gear bicycles are all the rage in our neighborhood. I think this means that the bike can’t coast because the bike’s crank and the rear wheel are dependent of each other. What is so great about that? I mean I love coasting, don’t all girls?

Still Liam assures me that fixies are, “…awesome Mom.”

Whoever makes and markets these bikes is completely aware of this fact too because the bikes cost a small fortune. So this is how the conversation goes:

“Dad, can I get a fixie if I pay for it myself?”

“Sure Liam, but why don’t you make one?”

Liam had $200 to spend. All his friends ride $500 fixies. Back when his dad was a kid everyone had to have a BMX bike. He couldn’t ever have the newest or the coolest, but if he wanted it he could build it from a combination of used parts and a few new essentials.

Liam’s dad assured him that a homemade bike will never look like Lance Armstrong’s track bike, might not even look like the ones his friends ride but he will ride with the satisfaction of knowing that he made his bike.

And so bike construction began. Liam learned today how to purchase a spoke for 60¢, install it, and true the wheel instead of plunking down $100 for a brand new wheel. 

Ownership is certainly valid, but pride in craftsmanship has personal investment that can’t be bought.

A House of Many Hats

For the past fifteen years, three (sometimes more) days a week my home is transformed to a co-operative home school! It is tricky for a house to wear many hats but ours has become an expert.

We utilize every inch of our 1200 square feet (now there's a math workout). During school we give each space a name. To begin, a favorite space is: On the Floor. The living room is transformed to the Great Room and in that room is Old Wood, the table where, by night, our family gathers for dinner. 

The kitchen table is always the kitchen table... but not exactly, sometimes we call it the Gathering Place, other times The Table in the Pink Room. And then there is our detached garage transformed School Room, the classroom with a clubhouse feel.

Because the weather is even keeled in our neck of the woods, much learning takes place in our postage-sized backyard. In the Garden we've created cozy nooks to read and write. And then there's recess... hmmm, the boys always find a way for fun! 

Ultimately our school environment is authentic, and that is precisely what makes it, well chaotic at times, but without doubt an artful inspiring home that is at once a school. 

Sharpening Pencils

When Hannah was five her best friends were twin boys. The trio devised all sorts of amusing activities. One sunny afternoon I noticed they were spending a significant amount of time gathered round the child-sized picnic table that Hannah’s father built. “How cute, they are conversing,” I thought to myself as I went for my camera to capture the moment. 

Wrong.

When I zoomed in I spied a couple Willie’s screwdrivers and a little pile of screws in the grass. I zoomed in closer. Yep, the trio was seated around what would soon be the once-upon-a time-child-sized picnic-table. They had spent the better part of the afternoon disassembling not conversing. Still, they were so focused, such dedicated little carpenters, that I didn’t have the heart to stop them. Instead I rehearsed the speech I would deliver to my husband, “…it was all very, well, Montessori …and after all we can easily re-build, right?”

Okay fast-forward about fifteen years. Last week my mother-in-law assigned Liam the task of sharpening fifteen dozen pencils that she would be taking to an orphanage in Uganda this summer. I appreciate how she organizes these perfect child-sized humanitarian activities for my children.

Liam got to work immediately. At a minute per pencil, 180 pencils, the task would take about three hours without a break! The task took Liam most of the morning. At one point he came in and asked me if he could use the manual pencil sharpener.

“The electric one might be faster.”

“But it’s clogged.”

“Okay Liam.”

“Thanks mom.” 

A couple of hours later Liam came bounding into the kitchen with a pencil stained grin holding in the sharpened pencils safely tucked back into their original packaging.

“Wow Liam, all these pencils!”

“I hope the children in Uganda are happy when they write!”

I choked back the lump in my throat, “I hope so too Liam, a job well done son.”

Later that evening I went into the studio to tidy up, there it was, a brand new installation: The manual pencil sharpener had somehow been removed from its perch in the pantry and re-attached with screws to our antique Craftsman desk. I caught my breath, mortified, then after a moment of letting the shock settle, enjoyed the smile cracking. My son set up shop, got the job done and I must admit, I’m proud.  

I pulled out the speech and began rehearsing, “…very Montessori and after all…”