Letter to the Editor

April 25th, 2010

This letter will (hopefully) be printed in both of our local papers this week.  Thought I would share.

Dear Editor,

I live inside the boundaries for the new Armow wind project.

While I understand that as property owners, my neighbours are free to make decisions about their land, the degree to which their decision effects surrounding properties is astounding; from a real estate value perspective, an aesthetic perspective, a health perspective and an ecological perspective.  We all have to jump through so many hoops with the municipality to build say, a shed on our private property; something which will only effect the homeowner.  Yet people are allowed to erect these monoliths without any discussion from the community around them, without even adequate testing?

We just returned from a vacation to the UK.  Giant turbines now dot the once majestic hillsides.  As objectionable as I find that, one thing stood out: in the EU the setbacks are much farther away from homes.  For good reasons!  (CanWEA says Ontario turbines can be 200m from homes; France requires 1,500m and many EU countries turn them down at night.)

Like many I am keen to see the development of more sustainable energy solutions.  I am not opposed to all wind turbines; small turbines which provide power directly to a property, which do not effect the properties surrounding the turbine, which do not effect the relationships of neighbours, and do not have negative health effects…. let’s subsidize those!

Residents should know that the wind companies here have such strict confidentiality agreements that people who are sick cannot talk about it.  Thankfully, some risk it all and do it anyway.  People are unable to sell their farms.  Neighbours are turning their backs on each other.  In some cases, good, honest people are literally walking away from their homes.  Our rural community is being torn apart for the sake of carbon offsets.

I am personally terribly concerned about the serious potential health implications associated with prolonged exposure to low frequency pulsation that would come from living in close proximity to wind turbines.  Likewise, the effects of stray voltage related to the management and transmission of the electricity they produce.  These need to be better understood before any more development takes place.

My husband and I have two small children on our beautiful 50 acre homestead.  We produce much of our own food.  We moved out to the country to provide a natural, connected and safe environment for our children.  Section 7 of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms promises us all “Security of the Person”, which I fear I am on the brink of losing, while in the sanctity of my own home.

I will be at the Queens Park rally this Wednesday and I implore everyone reading this to consider supporting a moratorium on wind farm projects UNTIL there have been suitable studies completed about the environmental and health effects associated.

Thank you, Ashley Duncan.

* * * * * * * * *

If you are able to make it, please consider attending the rally this Wednesday.  More information here.

Fabulous Farm For Sale

April 22nd, 2010

Friends of ours have just placed their incredible farm on the market.  The pictures do it NO justice.  Anything you see, you need to multiply by about 318.6% in amazingness.  It’s as green as can be; geothermal, composting toilet, re-insulated and has the most incredible home gardens I’ve ever had the privilege of enjoying.  Terrific barn, frog filled pond, stream running through it.  You know, pretty much paradise.

I have had some phenomenal experiences at this place.  It is a joy to visit and ownership of such a delight must feel like a million bucks.

The farm is right outside of Kincardine, which I have to say is a really nice place to live.  Every season looks like a postcard; our great big lake rocks the monkey.  And conveniently, one of the best tattoo shops on this side of border is nestled in the downtown core.  (Ahem, shameless plug).

View the house with virtual tour here.

http://www.coldwellbankerkincardine.com/listman/listings/images/101_1.jpghttp://www.coldwellbankerkincardine.com/listman/listings/images/101_6.jpg

April Showers Bring May Flowers

April 17th, 2010

It’s SHOWERS, not SNOW!

I can’t believe it’s snowing.  It snowed all morning.  And it’s snowing RIGHT NOW.  I have a fire blazing in the woodstove and am I ever annoyed!

Maggie was attached to me for most of our trip, and remains attached upon return.  She won’t even go to Scott.  Yesterday I moved the first few hundred pounds of a giant mulch pile about the garden.  Meeps protested that she was not “UP!” as I scooped up each of the 20 shovelfuls it takes to fill our wheelbarrow.  The short journey from the dump site of mulch to the needed garden location was filled with screams from start to finish.  Today hasn’t proved much different.

She did unknowingly take a 15 minute nap on my friend Sonya’s shoulder while I enjoyed a delightful Americano.  Small victories!

Here’s Meeps and Bob enjoying our balmy first day home.  Bob has been finding (and enjoying) last years carrots in the garden.  And apparently he paid attention to all of my running dialogue last year about gardening.

First he asks me “Mom, are we gardeners?”  Yes, yes son.  We are gardeners.  “Good.” He says.  Then he proceeds to instruct Meeps: “MangO, don’t step there.  Don’t step on the garlic, stay on the path…  Oh MangO.  You’re standing on the strawberry plants.  Stay on the path… MangO, would you like a carrot?  MangO?  Mommy says we can eat this young chard.  Would you like some leaf, MangO?”

Then he asks me why I’m digging trenches, and I start telling him all about drainage and plants not liking their feet too wet, and a few minutes later I overhear him telling Meeps all about the importance of drainage in heavy clay soils.

This is what Stink Eye from a goat looks like.  (Suki and La Cochonne).

And a picture of me, taken today.

Home Home Home

April 15th, 2010

We are back from our 2 week trip to Scotland and Wales!  Given that a week before we left we were in Clifton Springs NY for several days, it feels like we’ve been gone for ages.  Long enough to miss the last snow of the season, which is long enough for me.

Had I had time to blog about our trip to Clifton properly before leaving for the UK, I would have titled my entry: “Colonial Houses: Another Reason I Hate Kemstone.”  OK, so hate is a strong word, they are a Canadian company and I give them props for that.  They specialize in man-made “natural” stone, which I thought looked terrific the first few times I saw it around a fireplace or covering an entire house.  It was new to me, the wool was pulled over my eyes, I thought “what beautiful stone work”.  But now when you can drive past any house build or remodel in progress and see them sticking on these half “stones”, there’s no fooling anyone.  And the stuff is everywhere now.

SO.  Houses in Clifton and Canandaigua are really beautiful: a rainbow of painted wood, with all the trimmings.  Very nice.  Our hosts were incredible, as we pretty much took over their entire house with our two children and pigdog.  Had terrific sushi with friends and had uneventful border crossings.  Hoorah.  Looking forward to doing it all again next year.

I started packing for our UK trip as soon as we returned for Clifton.  I had the kids travel outfits all picked out well in advance, everything laid out and lists checked twice.  We had loaded all the suitcases into the car, and were about to load the children in when we came upon Meeps, with her travel-outfit pants around her ankles, trying to pee standing up like her brother.  The first of many outfit changes!

The flight over went way better than I expected.  I had read a really long blog article written by a stewardess (and mother), which was really helpful.  Our flight departed at 11pm.  Take off was great, Bob was excited and interested, and Meeps fell asleep.  The lights were off, all appeared to be going smoothly.  And then they turned all the bright lights back on.  And proceeded to serve dinner, at midnight.  Who the heck needs dinner at midnight?! Meeps was roused everytime a single serving plastic bag rustled (a roar of them is produced with the meal carts) or the snap of a pop can erupted.  Bob managed to fall asleep and stayed asleep for practically the entire flight.  On one side of him was a Scottish Gran, who had 5 children and 12 grandchildren, so things really couldn’t have been better there, as he slept practically half on top of her.  Meeps nursed for the vast majority of the flight, which is preferable to hysterical screaming, even if only marginally. I would absolutely take a night flight again, but I would aim to leave around 9pm, to avoid overtired children and meal carts at midnight.

I had never been to Scotland.  It had been a decade since Scott had been.  It was beautiful. We stayed with Scott’s Aunt, who may have well been his mother’s twin to our children.  They embraced her instantly, which made our trip so much easier.  We were surrounded with cousins, and children of cousins.  Seeing some of the Duncan genetics at play in these children, as they are in our own, was surreal and wonderful.  We also met up with some friends of Scott’s, who coordinated their vacation with ours.  They also have a toddler, and it was play galore for all.  Scott went to two Whiskey distilleries and made some purchases which he is overjoyed with.  Our entire travel shopping budget was spent on Scotch, and that’s A-OK.

We opted to drive from Tillicoutry, Scotland to Porthcawl, Wales (and then to Gatwick airport, England).  Our Ford Mondeo, which had a trunk so large our first response was “we could fit all of our goats in there!” got an incredible 1,000 kilometers on a single tank of diesel.  It took us through three countries on one fill up.  Beat that, North America.  Scott had a terrific time driving; the winding roads, the driver etiquette (which is non-existant here), the speed.  (We’ve been joking we are waiting for the tickets to come in the mail, in a binder, which one could flip through like animation…documenting our journey).  It took about 7.5 hours, and Meeps screamed for all of England, but we pounded BBC Radio crazy dance music and it helped pass the time, and mask the hysterics.  Thank you, Pete Tong.

Scott had never been to Wales.  It had been a decade since I had been.  It was beautiful.  We stayed with relatives I had never met before.  (This despite the fact I have been to Wales many times, and stayed always a 10 minute drive away from them).  Scott and I both agreed we could have sent home for a box of our belongings and moved in, instantly.  Castles, cousins, kin, and even a visit to Bob and Meeps Great Great Great Great Grandfather’s grave.  Top that!

The kids handled the entire trip beautifully.  There were of course “moments”, but considering we did nothing but yank them everywhich way, jetlagged and unrested for two weeks, while asking them to smile and say cheese for yet another photo… they were champions.

The flight home went way better than I expected.  This time it left at 11am.  Which meant entertaining the children for nearly 8 hours, instead of trying to get them to sleep.  Thankfully the bag of new toys and crayons and snacks I had packed remained unopen on the flight over, so we got to pull out all our tricks on the journey home.  It was long, uncomfortable and very draining.  But there was no mass hysteria, only severe boredom.  So we can mark it a raging success.

The drive home from Toronto (3 hours) was pretty brutal.  Both children were berserk for the duration, screaming to be out of their seats and home again.  Bob vomited on himself, Mags cried so hard her eyes were swollen shut.They were shattered, having been traveling for nearly 24 hours.   When we came home, Bob attempted to climb onto the couch, and fell asleep in the process of doing so, with his feet dangling, not touching the floor.  (See picture below).

We are happy to be home, but sad to leave so much incredible family so far away.  We loved everyone, through to the DNA and back again.  I gained a cousin, who is my age.  I loved him from the first moment he emailed me (on SuicideGirls of all places a couple of years ago, saying “Hi, you don’t know me, but your parents are standing in my kitchen, and I am your cousin”) and I love him even more now.  Don’t know if it’s the lonely-only child in me coming out, but it feels incredibly special to be up a relative, with similar age and interests.  We will be making the Scotland/Wales tour a regular occurance.

The kids have brought some new virus home with them, and are pretty gross.  But the weather here is incredible (as it was on our journey) and we picked up our 4 laying hens from our neighbours barn today (where they stay for the winter).  Covered the the garlic with straw.  Did chores in the sunshine.  Relished the wide open.  Couldn’t have been happier.

I feel like I have so much more I could write, but it would be a book.  I have so many more pictures to show, but no time to prep them as I have a mountain of laundry.  Ordered heaps of mulch today, starting seeds tomorrow, 100 day old meat chicks will come soon, followed by 24 started turkeys.  Soap making next week, first cheese of the season the horizon.  Here we go!

I can’t believe winter is over and I get to play in the dirt for the next six months.  Lucky, lucky me.

Up Up Up

March 27th, 2010

Spring has sprung!  Winter was surprisingly short and merciful this year.  I had forgotten how much kids love dirt.  How much I love dirt.  We’ve been sticking our fingers into the cold earth every chance we get.

Got a round bale delivered to feed the goats while we are away.  In SIX HOURS the goats took an 800 pound bale of nutritious hay and turned it into a flattened toilet.  Goats.  They’re JERKS.

And here is the Head Chief of Jerk City, Bucky.  The goat that smiles.

And here are my beautiful children, in a moment of sweet sibling play.

Haven’t even take our pictures from Clifton off the image card.  Probably won’t before we leave.  Haven’t caught up on emails.  Can’t.  About to do some errands before taking off to the Maple Syrup festival in Paisely, a sure sign spring has sprung and one of my favourite events of the year.  The sun is shining.  My coffee is delicious.  My children are quiet.

Life is good.

EDIT TO ADD the best thing I’ve read in ages:
Top 10 Anti-Gay Politicians Caught Being Gay

Home Again Home Again

March 24th, 2010

Just fired up the ol’ Powerbook after our vacation to the beautiful Finger Lakes, NY region.

Five days, no internet.  It was delightful.  It seems insane to me that five days seems… like something to write about!  But it is.  Five DAYS.  No internet.  Hahahaha.

And now for the undelightful task of playing catchup with my inbox.  And to get going on the 68 item long To-Do Before Leaving for Scotland List.  Which includes a blog entry with pretty pictures from our trip.

The Love Machine

March 17th, 2010

I am pleased to report Maggie no longer nurses during the day, from getting dressed to getting in pajamas.  She is also down to one or two nursing sessions at night (whenever she needs them).

I have gone from nursing this child, no exaggeration, sometimes upwards of a dozen little sips an hour, to twice a day.  Signficant weaning development.  Clearly our previous foray into night weaning was premature.  (Duh).

While I was really (really) ready for this in a lot of ways, today I realized just how NOT ready I was.  One word:

OXYTOCIN


A.K.A. The Love Drug.  A.K.A. That thing that was released every time Meeps or Bob gnawed at a nipple any time over the last, oh, four years.

I feel harder.  Less patient.  Less comfortable.  Less in love.

This is not enough to make me go back to nursing (hell, no).  But I was not expecting this.

This is feeling, it is familiar.  It’s how I used to feel in the years B.C.  (Before Children).  Scott has graciously volunteered to work on his latch, and not to fuss for night feedings.  He says he has my best interests in mind and “would do that for you, honey.”  Isn’t he just a sweetheart.  It’s not a solution.  I don’t know quite what is, perhaps some EPO, cohosh, yam combo to start with.  Something.  Anything to help get the balance back.  Because you can’t bottle LOVE.

:(

Oh, Oxytocin.  I really miss you.


Tough as Tears

March 15th, 2010

Got tattooed on Saturday!  Two words:  Holy.  Fuck.

Mental note: gain back the 12+ pounds lost doing the 30 Day Shred and P90 before next session.  Any padding over my ribby back would be welcome.  In fact, gain 30 pounds, soley by eating cream cheese icing and other soft cheese confections.  For fun.

So I got a giant Kali mask tattooed on my back.  We have a giant Kali mask that hangs at the foot of our bed.  It was a wedding present that we bought ourselves.  She is beautiful, violent.  I am not particularly interested in Hindi or Tantra, but I find her image powerful and I particularly enjoyed looking down at her while I gave birth to Maggie in my bed.  While all of my tattoos mean something to me, mostly I just want to look at them.  Because they make me laugh, make me thankful, make me happy.  Nothing I can overly articulate.  I just LIKE them, I like BEING tattooed.  I am not all “every BODY has a story” (thank you for that one, Kat VonD, ahem).   It’s okay to get tattooed just because.

And so I do.

My tattoo session for the Kali outline was longer than my labor with Meeps.  Not kidding.

It hurt.   A lot.  I was quite sure that spread 9 was actually penetrating my ribs, and filleting the top of my ass.  Anyone who says tattoos don’t hurt probably does not have any in their ditches, their throats, their ribs.  Anyone who says tattoos don’t hurt has small tattoos.

Like labor, once you start you have to finish.  There is no turning back.  Like labor, every time the needle lifts, or the contraction stops, there is no discomfort.  Everything is clear.  You just hold on… let go… be ready to dive back into the waves.

The first few hours were OK.  I got by and sat still doing Ina May Gaskin’s “loose lips” breathing.   But by the last hour I was worn out and there was nothing but pain.  I had no energy left and it was at the part where it just feels like torture.  Scott’s friend and #1 Client Myke came in right at the end, I took his hand to hold loosely.  I went from a shaking heap to a still, but weeping heap.  I was so thankful for that understanding hand, I needed that calm and it worked.  He held my hand until the end.  What a ride.  It was totally a wonderful experience, to arrive at the end of that session with those two men.  Transcendent, tremendous… true.

Whenever I am sitting there going “why the hell do I do this to myself?!” I look in the mirror and know.  Because they fucking ROCK, that’s why.  I love it.  I love the experience, I love the result.

I love the adventure.  I love following through.  I love carrying it with me.

We’ll be covering up the “daeomnic energy wave” ass antlers.  And colouring it in… in less marathon lengthed sessions.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In other news, I had a good scare this morning.  Maggie was sitting on the kitchen table naked, and when she stood up there was a clump of brown between her buttcheeks.  I thought ohmygod, this is the payback I get for never changing a poopy Meeps diaper.   She’s just shit on the kitchen table.

I picked her up slowly.  I put my head closer.  I sniffed.

Thank god…

She had just sat on a cupcake.

Blessed Boys and Sweet Shoes

March 12th, 2010

It was baby boy day yesterday on the ol’ 5th Concession!  Two of my closest neighbours had boys, on the same day.  Our block is bursting with babies!  What a tremendous blessing for all of us.

When I was pregnant with Bob I fell in love with a new pair of Fluevogs.  And then one of those wonderful pregnancy side effects I had never previously heard of happened to me (not the weird spots on my gums, or the uncontrollable flatulence)… my feet grew.  And they have not yet shrunk back.

These beauties have bee worn out to dinner twice.  Where I walked to the truck, sat down and ate, and then walked back to the truck.  They are a size seven. They are in practically immaculate condition.  They are in the popular Hi Choice shoe family, and have the signature heart shaped heel, which is inscribed with “to love or to hate, the choice is yours“.   If you have size seven feet and want to buy a pair of Fluevogs, please email me at twwly@mac.com — no reasonable offer refused.

(Trying to turn a blind eye to the wine coloured Operetta Bartoli’s, which I would only molest with my hands and never wear… my $8 Canadian Tire wellies are my shoe of choice until it’s Sorel season again, for good manure-y reason.)

Baby on the Way

March 11th, 2010

So speaking of midwives!  Our neighbour came over last night on his horse to use our phone to call the midwives as his wife, my friend, is in labour!

Scott asks him “so, how far apart are her contractions?” and he replies “30 seconds apart, I think”.  To which Scott replied something to the effect of “HOLY CRAP WE HAVE TO GO!”  And then there was great tizzy, Scott saying “she’ll be having the baby RIGHT NOW, go back on your horse!” Our friend saying “OH, if she’s having a problem she could just walk next door” and Scott countering with “SHE’S NOT WALKING ANYWHERE, MATE!”  and then finally our friend unfolds the piece of paper on which his wife has written the spacing and duration of her contractions and it’s more like 5 minutes apart, each lasting for 30 seconds.

Much better!

And without disclosing too much (more) private information here, may I just say that Scott reported back (when I pressed him for EVERY SINGLE DETAIL, since I am stuck at home with the kids and so jealous I couldn’t drive) that the only way he could tell she was having a contraction was that her breathing changed… a LITTLE.  I cannot possibly express how much I adore her phenomenal politeness of being.

Scott got them to the hospital, parked the truck and then ran in all…. WHAT NEXT! WOO!  And then of course realized… it was time for him to go home.  Awww.  Ride over.  They were of course apologetic and thankful and Scott made it perfectly clear that since his days of birth are over, he is pleased to be experiencing the birth rush through them.

I cannot wait to have a new little baby to hold and love!  I am so excited for my friends.  I am wishing and hoping the rest of this goes smoothly, as of my typing this baby was still stubbornly in utero.  I am off locate an infant car seat so that they can bring the baby home… all the while pondering the miracle of birth, my birth experiences, and the pure joy that is babies.

BABY, BABY, BABY!