To be shared with Phenomenal Women

Listen to this and read it aloud with your daughter, your mother, your best friend… some phenomenal woman in your life. Be proud, let your light shine.

Thank you Maya Angelou, for cutting a grand canyon of light for us.

Betty Firecrocker, Food Not Bombs and Zines

Being a teenage girls in the 90s, Zines were a big part of my life. I still love Zines. I have several binders filled with Zines in plastic page protectors, cataloged by topic. (I know. It's very nerdy in a librarian kind of way.)

Another nerdy secret I have is my secret identity, Betty Firecrocker. She enjoys cooking, zines and liberating food with a group called Food Not Bombs (amongst other super powers). When I was living in Raleigh, I worked intensively with RFNB on a weekly basis. We collected groceries which were destined for the dumpster, sorted out what was compostable and what was good for consumption, collected boxes for families in need, distributed unusable items (non vegetarian) to soup kitchens, set up a free market called Raw on the Wall for those who need groceries, and prepared a hot vegetarian meal to serve. We often cooked at my house and I took part in many events with them. We served food and drinks and gave away flowers at large protests and served meals to activist.

I put together a little Zine with some of the stuff we did.
I have hopes that this will be ongoing and we can compile a cookbook with recipe ideas for food we give away at Raw on the Wall and a collection of recipes we prepare for meals at Moore's Square and protests and events. I hope one of our veteran members will write up the history of RFNB as my time involved has only been since 2012. I haven't been volunteering as much lately due to funds for gas and just too much to do, and making this helps me still feel involved. I miss spending time with my Food Not Bombs Family, as you can see in the pictures, we had a lot of fun, and these photos don't even begin to cover all the fun times we had!

If you print the photos full page size, in order, printing on the back of the page, it will assemble like a Zine.
Enjoy, duplicate, pass on.

I'm adding a few more pictures, because they are fun.
Cooking to serve food at Moore's Square in my old kitchen. 1hr to prep a full meal for about 100 people.

The Apple Cart, handing out flowers, literature, fruit and water to protestors at an early Moral Monday event.

March Against Monsanto. We made monster corn puppets, and Kevin had a special outfit for the event. A lot of us from RFNB marched together and we carried the banner. We had a healthy picnic in the grass afterwards and we have great video of Kevin frolicking through the field in his costume while Amanda plays the ukulele. I'll have to try and find a link to that.

Soil and Friendship

My family has started a new tradition this year. For 16 days after the beginning of the new year, we recognize this as our time of “soil”. We rest and reflect on the things that feed us, nourish us and ground us. We leave the earth alone to do the same, and we all prepare for future work when the days get lighter.

This year, we kicked off soil with our annual Stone Soup Party on January 1^st. This is an important event for us every year. It is not only the first day of the year (and this year, a new moon) but is also my step son Ian’s birthday. This year he would’ve been 21. (This topic deserves it’s own post, and when it’s made I will post a link) We use this party to celebrate our community, our tribe, people we can lean on in hard times, people we enjoy, admire and love. It’s about celebrating the circle around us.

The story of Stone Soup is prevalent in many different cultures but the story is the same. In a time of scarcity, a traveling stranger seeks food and shelter for the night. No one is willing to share for fear they will not have enough. The traveller says he will make soup from a stone and tricks each townsperson to bring something to the pot, which transforms into a delicious pot of soup. The moral of the story is when everyone shares, there is more for everyone. This is an essential core belief of mine and I practice it regularly with my involvement in Food Not Bombs. I will make another post about FNB and post a link here)

A Tribe is an important nutrient in my soil. I believe that the only way to bring about transformative change is to be that change- to be deeply and personally involved and participating. We achieve being through doing. I recognize that I need others to make my world what I want it to be. My tribe is my world. We are the micro version of the utopia I want to see.

You get out of an experience what you put into it. I know this to be true about many, many things but also with friendships. Having a tribe is all about what you put in. I began to think about the qualities I love in a friend and what I can do to be a better friend. I put together a list so I can remember to do these things. My family has been struggling with friends and we all discussed and agreed that these are ways we can do our part in being better friends and finding our tribe again.

Don’t be too cool, it’s not cool.

If you’re excited to see someone, show your excitement. Everyone wants to feel like they belong and are loved. You can’t give someone too much love. They will be thankful for it and give you just as much back. If you think someone is interesting, make efforts to be their friend, let them know, they will let their authentic self come through. Give compliments and credit- It makes people feel good, they let their guard down and real bonding begins to happen when people feel like they aren’t in competition with each other.

When you are truly just yourself, with no pretense or agenda, it gives everyone permission to be who they truly are.

Participate.

Listen.

Call, write, visit. Leave messages. Show up when you say you will.

Be real. Don’t just small talk. Be raw. Dig in. Don't be afraid of showing your messy parts. We’re all messy. I would much rather see the real you than a mask.

Share your stories and your fears. Everyone wants to be heard and it makes the love and connection grow deeper when we share our histories. I really do want to know what you’re made of.

Adopt a help first mentality. Ask those in your tribe “Is there anything I can do to help?” If you seek to help others before expecting help in return, you will get the most out of your community. Live life giving gifts, the universe will return them to you.

Be honest, but always kind.

Never be afraid to challenge your friends if they need it. Sometimes people need a push to be the best person they are capable of being. Be honest, especially about your feelings. Never forget that you must be kind and patient to do either of these things right.

If things get heated or tense, as they do, keep your cool and don’t just react. If you do loose your cool, apologize quickly.

It is important to remember that you should not make friends just to have friends. These should be people that truly inspire you, give you strength and allow you to be the best version of yourself. I am an introvert and have always had a quality over quantity approach to friends. I still find myself questioning if people are positive friends in my life.  Know when someone isn’t the kind of person you want around. Don’t let relationships get toxic.

This post was originally from January of 2014. I look over it and feel like we have been practicing these things, yet I often still feel like connecting is very hard. For all of us.

Sometimes I worry my light doesn’t glow anymore. Maybe we still have too much anger and grief. Maybe the world is too guarded. I don’t really know.

Stone Soup photos:

The ingredient list, each guest adds what they brought to fill our pot <3

The food and our copies of Stone Soup and Tear Soup (a book about grieving)

The soup pot

The Wonderful Soup Stone lyrics by Shel Silverstein performed by Dr Hook

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=28-XS86opIo

To Plant A Garden Is To Believe In Tomorrow

I love my garden. It is my space. Every night at dusk I love watering it with my heavy watering can, the drops of water spilling out as I carry it, sprinkling my toes. In the morning I rush out to check for new strawberries and fresh peas. I collect herbs and greens lovingly before dinner. I've even embraced weeding and practice meditation while I work and can often be out there for hours just working before it even occurs to me that the kids might need me.

Here is a link to a post I made early in the growing season last year. I have to say that the garden will be one of those memories that stay with me forever. Here are a few of my favorite photos from last year's garden. I make altered books (if you don't know- google some images) and I am making one with all of my garden info, plans and photos. (I make a ton of these and they are on going projects often taking years to complete.) I am also making a cookbook Zine which has a chapter with favorite recipes for garden goodies and uses some of these photos.

spinach and egyptian walking onions 

The first strawberry, mother's day 2013 

Mother and Daughter, Mother's Day 2013 

collecting strawberries with coffee 

BEETS! 

Food Not Bombs 

Beautiful potatoes

rainbow beans

The view

sunflowers

sweet corn

more beans

pickling the peppers

I am catching up on old posts I never finished. I also hope to catch up on posting about this years garden. I am also tagging and organizing all the photos from the past 3 years on the mac. I wish I had kept up with this from the beginning. Switching to a mac has been difficult. 

Projects are abound around here.

End of the year testing

Wow! we are finishing up our first year of homeschooling! Time really flies. I feel like I need to do a big post on what our first year was like- what met my expectations, what fell short and what was beyond my wildest dreams. But that isn't today's post, I'm not ready to go there yet.

As a homeschool family in NC, you have to have your child tested with a nationally standardized test each school year. It is one of the very few requirements we have. But here is the weird part- The results are not public knowledge. I don't even have to look at the test results if I don't want to. They aren't using them statistically if they don't know the results. They aren't evaluating my homeschool techniques. So what's the point? Why am I required to do this?

I'm not going to go into a political rant, but at the beginning of this school year it all became clear. Even though I went to school to teach, I didn't really, all the way figure this out till last year. THE END OF GRADE TESTS ARE BULLSHIT. Let me explain.
Another requirement of homeschooling is that you keep records on file- past end of year tests, an attendance sheet (yes, really), and any former public school records. I collected my daughter's school paperwork during the first week of what would've been her 7th grade year (and our first year homeschooling). I also waited until then to unenroll her. Now, at the end of her 6th grade year she felt the serious pressure of end of grade testing. Weeks of practice tests, lectures on how important it is, reviews for a month, more lectures, letters sent home, phone calls about eating breakfast during testing, more lectures. She made it through, although she was definitely stressed out from all the pressure. I got a letter over the summer, telling me my daughter passed. High five, girl, you must've done great on the eogs!!! WRONG. When I went to collect her records, I looked for her scores and they weren't in there. I ask them for them, because it is my responsibility to make sure I have the proper paperwork on file. They politely tell me "We haven't gotten the eogs from last year back yet. There was a mix up at the testing company and we won't have them until October or November." WHAT?! How do you know my daughter passed? Why did you put them through all of that stress? How do you know any of these students passed? Oh wait, I know- MONEY. Rather than state everything that was already written in this local blog, I'm just going to link it. You should read it. The public school system does not care about your children. They are dollar signs. The teachers, they (for the most part) do care about your children, but the system does not.
http://bluehatmovement.wordpress.com/2013/05/20/parents-students-teachers-meet-pearson-publishing/

I was totally stressed about finding a test. I wanted to research the companies and give my money to one who is not a big evil conglomorate, but that was a much bigger feat than a homesteading homeschooling mom has time for. I ended up just going with one that fell in my lap. I have to say that I was very pleased with the experience. Am I pissed I gave my money to the testing company? Yes. Do I really think they aren't collecting data on my child? NO. Was it a positive experience? Yes. Even though I struggle with following the bullshit rules to gain a bit more of what feels like freedom, I decided to make the best of the test and use it how I see fit. I've been getting pretty good at making lemonade the past 3 years.

I chose the Woodcock Johnson test. What I liked about this test is that it is often used as a placement test, meaning that it would test her placement in different areas and not just within her grade. I also liked that it measures for learning disabilities and academic giftedness. It also evaluates her learning style, given in a one on one session and the results were available immediately and explained to you by the administrator. Being as this was her first test, I was excited to see her placement. I knew she was very advanced in English and I wanted to be sure she was being pushed and challenged with writing which she is so passionate about. I also knew my daughter struggles with Math and I wanted to know what pieces were missing, where she needed help, so that I can help her feel confident in her skills. I wanted to know if there was a reason math was so difficult and if there was a way I can help it become easier. I think I know her strengths and weaknesses and learning style but was interested to see if she tested how I saw things.

Phaedra was not stressed out about the test. I was very worried she would be after not being put in that situation for an entire year. I did explain to her that it wasn't a pass or fail thing, it was just so we know what she already knows. She did feel pressure while taking the math portion and said she had flashbacks to public school and that horrible feeling in her stomach when she knew she wasn't getting the answer right.

The best part was when I was getting the result feedback. As soon as I walked in they told me I had a writer on my hands, that she had scored off the charts in writing, meaning she was writing on a college level! This was wonderful to hear. As a parent, you want to know that your child is really really good at what they are passionate about. We always want our children to shine at what makes them happy. She is also reading at an upper high school/college level. Her comprehension being the highest of the scores. We also found out that her math has holes at the 5th grade year, the year following Ian's death, which totally makes sense. She had a really bad teacher in 6th grade and she never caught back up. I think 5th grade math is one of the hardest years (long multiplication, long division, fractions and decimals). The test administrator asked Phaedra what math curriculum we used. Phaedra panicked and didn't know what to say and told her we used Waldorf's Making Math Meaningful (which i bought but we didn't even crack open). When the administrator asked me, I told her none, and she let out a gasped "WHAT?!" and I explained that we were de-schooling and that we used real world math in sewing projects and building gates and rabbit hutches and solving logic problems, figuring out sales tax, etc, etc. That Phaedra's bad experience in math class had given her a serious dislike for math and I wanted her to love the learning process again and not be held back by mastering skills in a workbook, that there were other ways to keep her math skills brushed up and polished without formal lessons. She started laughing about Phaedra covering for Mom and my lack of curriculum. But she understood. Oopps. The worst thing happened- my child lied because she thought I would be in trouble if she didn't. She is very afraid to even tell other homeschool families that we don't have a curriculum. I explained to her that she shouldn't lie, and that I believe strongly in my decisions and I will back them up if it comes down to it. I also told her she has the right to not discuss her education with anyone she doesn't want to. "You can ask my Mom about it" is a fine answer to give.

So what did we gain from this test? Where do we go from here? Most importantly, Phaedra has some new serious confidence in her writing. I have numbers to back me up when she spends a lot of her homeschooling days focused on her reading and writing. I also think that her understanding she is a bit behind on her math skills, but that she has to just improve at her own pace without pressure, has helped her to see she can tackle it- her mind is certainly capable. She even picked out a math workbook to work on from the bookstore.

The Turtle Island Preserve Experience

Our family was very lucky to take part in the first annual Turtle Island Preserve Families Learning Together. We bought our tickets way back in December of last year, and the event quickly sold out. It was limited to 400 participants and I know next year's event will sell out even faster.
If you don't know about Turtle Island and Eustace Conway, I encourage you to learn more.

TIP website
The Last American Man- a book about Eustice Conway
Mountain Men- History Channel show featuring Eustice Conway

I feel very lucky to have known about TIP before the TV show and book. I lived in Boone from the time I was 12 until I was in my late 20s. Eustice was a legend in Boone. We all knew of him and the preserve. My younger brother was lucky enough to get to take school trips out there and he still remembers how life changing the visits were for him. I wanted my kids to know about this magical place that exists in our self professed home. I wanted to tell them the stories I heard about my teenage peers who ventured in the woods to find it. Some did. Some tried to work there. Some told stories of how horrible and mean Eustice was. Some talked about him as if he was the kindest gentlest soul they ever met. It was finally time for me to see for myself, and I was very excited. Dresden has watched the Mountain Men TV show and he became a big fan of Eustice. He started playing "Mountain Man" in the yard and would come up with long speeches about killing deers with respect, loving the mother and finding plants to cure your ails. It spoke to him.

Phaedra was intrigued with my stories and she was gung-ho to go until we found out it was on the same weekend as her first homeschool prom. I gave her the option of trying to find a friend to stay with while we went to the mountains, but she decided that the mountain experience was something she wanted to be a part of. She bounced back and forth on that decision as her friends started talking about dresses and dates and excitement, and I thought she would change her mind. She didn't. She even said several times while we were at the preserve that she was very happy she made the decision she did. Phaedra loves Boone with all her heart. I am glad she embraces her Appalachian heritage and connects with it.

We drove up to the mountains on friday evening. The mountains are home to our family. Kevin and I met in Boone, Phaedra was born in Boone. The mountains hold our hearts and even though we love our home in the triangle, it doesn't feel like home like the mountains do. We still haven't found our tribe, although the homeschool community does feel like a community we belong in, strong connections seem to fall short. It's hard to become a part of something where everyone has known each other for most of their lives. You always feel a little on the outside. Homeschool families are busy families and it's hard to make the time. I am also an introvert and feel lonely in my own vibration. In Boone, I have known many of the people there for a majority of my life. Friends from high school and college, teens and homeschool kids I worked with at the library (who're grown up now) and their parents, the parents of my friends from high school, past teachers and co workers. The magical part is that it is so easy to pick up with these people, even after years, like I just saw them yesterday. We hug, our hearts speak. It just feels so much more like home. Some call it the Boonerang. Some say Boone is on a purple earth chakra- whatever it is, it works for me.
Not to mention- my very best friend of close to 20 years lives in Boone. She is my chosen family. I feel very blessed to be so connected to someone for so very long. Not many people have that. Phaedra loves her dearly and she is married to another one of Dresden's heroes. Micah is a man's man, with guns, metal guitar, and bug out bags, a kind voice, and a patient heart. Dresden thinks he is pretty much the coolest guy in the world.

Dresden looks at a photo of Uncle Micah at his age

We started our day Saturday by parking at an offsite spot to shuttle by van to the preserve. We didn't wait long, it was smooth and graceful. A quick scan of attendees showed what seemed to be local families, probably there for reasons like us, because they saw Eustice in school or knew of the stories and wanted to see for themselves. There were also families and couples who seemed to be like us and were there to learn new skills, see them in practice, and get inspiration. There were also a number of TV tourists, some even traveled from other states. They looked a little out of place. The ride was exciting and it was eye opening to see how close it all was to Boone- just tucked secretly away for so many years amongst familiar stomping grounds. We turned in our tickets and were given a bag with/for goodies. Dresden noticed Eustice and had to go say hello. He walked right up to him, said "hello. my name is Dresden." Eustice's face lit up in a huge grin. He commented on his John Deere sweater and complimented him on his hat while shaking hands. He greeted all of us, I told him Dresden was very excited to meet him and I think he could just tell we were there for the right reasons. He made sure to ask us if we were taking the ridge trail in. We assured him that was our plan and we parted off.

Dresden meets Eustice

The ridge trail was beautiful. It was challenging enough but not overly difficult with a 4 yr old. Some people chose to ride standing in the back of a dump truck to the site.  It was a little congested with people who were unsure of the hike terrain. I hate that I am quick to pick up energies because I started getting on my own nerves telling Dresden to be careful and instructing him to much instead of just letting him use his really good instincts. I enjoyed that I am a detail noticing hiker. I like to look at everything that catches my eye. We passed a small waterfall, Mushrooms, mountain violets, some small scrap built buildings and lots of beauty.

deer stand

mountain moss and mushrooms

helping each other on the ridge trail

little woodland elf

the mark of turtle island

After winding ledges and marveling at the sites, we reached a clearing. I noticed some tipis. The grass was new grass green and the trees were bright spring green with bursts of new leaves. I looked around and saw the heart of Turtle Island. My eyes filled with tears and I breathed it all in. The buildings so beautifully puzzle pieced together, each one it's own personality. The children climbing trees, swinging from ropes, barefoot, dirty. The animals. You could tell that every rock that was moved somewhere, every nail, every post was done so with love, respect and purpose. The beauty was overwhelming. 

demonstration areas were set up at almost every structure

the blacksmith shop and my favorite building

the pirate ship treehouse- it's quite a climb!

other natural play spaces included a log seesaw, rope swing and toy horses to ride

each building has it's purpose and personality

spring in ancient appalachia

Dresden noticed Eustice giving folks a horse drawn carriage ride. We only had to wait in line a short time. Eustice had room for one more and called Phaedra to get in. She hopped on more like a kid than a teenager. 

Dresden waited an extra round to get to sit up front. Dad rode with him. 

Phaedra really enjoyed the animals. We were able to see a one week and one day old baby goats, lots of chickens and even some baby chicks, roosters (more on them later), Turkeys (who would frighten us with their gobble noises), ducks, and horses. It was a treat to see Eustice and his horses working together. They have a special relationship and bond of respect. 

 The highlight of the grounds, for me, was the kitchen. It was beautiful. I really would love to spend a day or two in there with someone who knows what they are doing and learn a few things. This is where I would spend a lot of time if I was ever on Turtle Island. It's amazing how a rustic pot becomes a sculpture and metal cowboy coffee pots are art. I dream of an outdoor kitchen that is this home-y. I was so happy to hear that they asked everyone to bring all their own eating utensils and dishwear. They had a dishwashing station set up and demos to teach how to camp wash. (We are of course, very knowledgeable in the camp washing). The Kitchen is dubbed "Nacho Mama's Cafe". We ate bbq chicken sandwiches. Phaedra said she could taste their happy lives (I really have no idea if they were TIP chickens, but I hope so). We watched them fry potato chips in a cauldron of oil over an open flame. People walked around eating ears of corn and large pots bubbled while smoke and delicious smells were dancing in the air. Yes, the kitchen was one of my favorite spots.

Some of the many large cauldrons. I would love to make a big batch of soup in one of these.

The oven. A metal drum with lid as a door. rocks were stacked around it and covered with clay.

frying up potato chips

One end of the kitchen. This looks like a great spot for cooking and storytelling. 

The other side of the photo above. (There is a matching hearth on the opposite side of the kitchen as well.)

The dining area. Next to the dish washing station. 

The other end of the kitchen. Now this is doing it right.

We visited with vendors and old friends we ran into. Each booth had something special to share. We learned about our luffas, how to make a drinking gourd out of one of our gourds (something Dresden has been asking to do), watched blacksmithing, learned about the Woodland Harvest Mountain Farm, talked goats, and enjoyed the nature. Dresden entered a raffle to win one of Preston's handmade knives. He really wanted it and I am very happy with how he dealt with the disappointment of the raffle. We were excited to drink the water at turtle island and referred to it all day as "the blood of the mother" as Eustice called it in a Mountain Man episode.

My final station of the day was the rooster slaughter. Neither of the kids were interested in watching. I expected that of Phaedra, but was surprised Dresden did not want to go. I decided to go because although I know Midge and Roxie, our two laying pet chickens will never be slaughtered, I do know I would like to take charge of my own meat consumption or stop consuming it altogether. I wanted an up front experience. I wanted to see what my reaction was. Three years ago I could not have watched. I felt a lot of things standing there- confusion and shock, awe and disgust- I know the chicken had fear in it's eyes, I know I watched life leave. I felt a connectedness to life and death all as one. I understood I was a part of the circle of life yet still felt a little sadness and guilt. I don't know if I ever want to be hard enough to not feel that.

 Preston lead the demonstration. Before the slaughter, he briefly explained the process and gave details on what we should expect. He explained that the chicken does move when it is decapitated, but that out of respect you want to prevent such things. He then dips it in hot water, defeaters the bird,  "swinges" the bird, and finishes by cleaning. He said the man he learned from called it "swingeing", and he asked if he meant "singeing". He said "No. I mean swingeing". He had someone look into the word and found it could be traced back to pre civil war. Preston realized that he was a part of handed down stories and skills and words and a part of history. He decided from then on, he would swinge his birds too and that he hopes if we slaughter on our own, we'll swinge ours too.

I video recorded the swinge story and the actual slaughter, so I don't have photos. I decided to film because I knew one or both of the kids would regret not coming to watch. I was really happy to catch the swinge story because it really helps to make this a connected whole life learning experience for Phaedra. Her Appalachian history, and knowing it, connects her to the half of her family she doesn't know. It gives her roots. And I think it's pretty awesome roots to have.

Preston and an Intern had to call a few kids out. Things were getting loud. One kid was yelling about letting the rooster run around with it's head cut off. They called attention to the fact that they were witnessing a life changing event and were not showing respect to Mr. Preston or the rooster who just gave his greatest gift to those at turtle island. It was handled well. I am glad they did that. Some kids were poking the roosters head with a stick. At this point I was glad my kids sat it out. I want a more intimate, calm setting for their first time. I was starting to feel like someone was going to yell again, so I just left. I was bummed I missed the entire process. I also missed both Herb Walks by just losing track of the time (as you should in nature). 

By this point Dresden was worn out. We refueled him and Phaedra with smoothies from the hippie camp, listened to some drums and started the hike out which Dresden wanted to be carried for. Yeah right. We decided to ride the dump truck shuttle instead of hiking. It was awesomely unsafe.

I left Turtle Island feeling like I needed to stop being so afraid. "Fear is the thief of dreams" was posted somewhere there. I felt like it was written to me. The world is going to hurt me. It's done it before and it'll do it again. From standing in the back of a dump truck driving down a dirt mountain road, to letting kids climb a ladder up 30 ft to a treehouse and just use a damn rope swing, to walking a poorly blazed trail and letting Dresden play Mountain goat, to having no walls. I'm choosing the adventure and the dreams, to hell with the fear.