It Beats the Alternative

I'm thirty-nine years old today. Isn't that freaky? It's dangerously close to doddering old age, but I still love my birthday, the only day when I don't feel guilty eating a jar's worth of Nutella.

Here are some favorite pics from my thirty-eighth year, one of the best so far on this merry-go-round:


This was the year that the chickens came on the scene.


Ditto the Chicken Palace.


Last spring we went to Gettysburg, and I got extreme goosebumps watching Luke and Owen play in the woods where Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain and his 20th Maine fighters held the Rebels back, determining the course of history.


Old Sturbridge Village, a place where the boys visited for the first time just this past June, has become a constant source of interest and excitement.


My brother's wedding was a highlight, too; here is his bride with all four of her new nephews.

I've looked in on the adventures of my parents:


and learned to knit.


Best of all, I've gotten to enjoy my kids:














And just be in love with, and in awe of, my husband, the sane guy in our crazy madhouse.


Yeah, it's a damn good life.

Finding the Beauty - Day 2

Beauty is easy to find at Old Sturbridge Village:

'Plowing' Into the Field Trip Wars

Topsy and Firefly Mom have been dueling over field trips for the last few weeks, and finally I think we here at the Stone Age Techie are able to enter the fray, with our recent visit to Old Sturbridge Village.

We've been there several times, but this was the best visit so far in one way: it was Homeschool Day there, which meant that most of the people, and virtually all the kids, were homeschooled. It was one of the only times where we could be reasonably certain that nobody would ask us why the kids weren't in school, where we fit in, if that makes any sense. It was good fun! Here are some highlights:

First, we took a cider-pressing class with some buddies. This series of pictures shows the kids putting apples into the press, grinding them into mush, and then pressing the mush to extract the juice:

Not shown: us gulping down our cider after all this hard work! I was bummed out only because, while we were able to press this cider, we weren't able to try the cider we pressed; it's not pasteurized. I seem to remember pressing apples into cider as a kid, and miraculously not dying from it, but I guess times have changed and so now, we are one step removed from the bounty on the trees around us. Still, the cider we did taste at the end of the class was pretty good.

We then poked around the village, checked out a shooting match (and saw the coolest thing that I didn't have my camera out for - a smoke ring, let off as one of the guns fired, that floated above the spectators' heads and into the woods. Amazing!), met a baby calf, and Owen got to help with the year-end plowing:

Yes, that is my youngest, plowing for all he is worth behind two huge, very well-behaved oxen! Watching him put his heart and soul into the work, and then running back to me, huge grin plastered on his face, has me thinking that someday he might make a good farmer.

Later, we got to meet the oxen, Lance and Henry, and their driver who patiently answered questions for half an hour before heading off to get their 'dinner':

This was one in a string of amazing visits to Old Sturbridge Village. We count ourselves very lucky to have such a place within driving distance!

Soul Restoration, Part One

I've written before about my concerns for Luke, our wonderful, sensitive, fragile boy who sometimes seems a bit too sensitive and fragile. Recently, my worries resurfaced when a friend mentioned that he seemed to be having a down sort of week. My initial answer to her was, no, he's been fine - but then I thought about it. He's fine when hanging in a small group, or reading, or horsing around with Owen, but put him out on a playground, with hordes of kids, or at pick-up baseball, again with lots of kids, and he just goes to pieces. He'll pull off by himself, cry, ask to go sit in the car, anything to get away from the overwhelming noise and motion of fifty children and umpteen simultaneous games of tag.

You'd think I would have noticed, right? Well, no. I really didn't, and putting the guilt I feel about this aside, looking at the problem head-on, I think I know why: it is because Luke used to be more vocal in his displeasure. A lot more vocal. No one can miss a kid who screams bloody murder in public, right? But his new habit of going off quietly allowed me to ignore his pain. I knew where he was, but paid no attention to his state of mind.

Or more precisely, the state of Luke's soul. I am not particularly religious, and I use the word soul in the sense of spirit, of a person's true heart center. But when my friend brought up the sadness she saw at these big gatherings, I realized that I needed to do something.

The solution? Old Sturbridge Village. With friends.

The animals we came across really helped.

So did the potters.

Poor Ben, I have pestered him almost ceaselessly since we got home about how we might get ourselves a pottery wheel - or, build one maybe. (Anyone know how we might acquire one, or create one?)

And the cool thing is, our day restored more souls than just Luke's.

A beautiful fall day, when the trees are just beginning to turn, spent in the company of friends, was healing for me, too, in a way that I didn't even realize I'd needed.

I know that this can't be the whole solution for my son; one day, one small outing, can't 'fix' it all. But I'm looking at this day as a beginning. In the weeks and months ahead, we'll play, visit, go on field trips, just be, in small groups... perhaps we'll try the occasional big-group gathering and hope for the best.

Truthfully, this what we have been doing all along - it is my mindset that has changed. This visit to Old Sturbridge Village marks where I really start thinking about my children's 'socialization.' They must know themselves well, pull back when they're getting overwhelmed, dive in when it feels right. What is life for, if not this?

Of Muskets and Memories, Part 3

It was not too long ago that summer, for us, meant hiding inside and scrapbooking; all that has changed since Owen came along, and needed excitement and action 24/7. Now, summer is when we get out and DO stuff!

One of our new favorite places to get out and do something is Old Sturbridge Village, a living history museum which returns the visitor to the 1830s, with a village, a working farm, interpreters to help understand how the people of the time really lived, and more to do than you ever could in a day. Which is why we became members, enabling us to go back whenever we want, for a whole year. Some highlights from our first few trips back in time:

From Old Sturbridge Village

Luke and Owen enjoyed the tinsmithy, not just because there was lots going on inside, but because so much of it was done by a fifteen-year-old apprentice (he's reflected in the window glass, isn't that neat?) The apprentice is making an outdoor candleholder, while his masters stand around and chat with the nice people from the future.

From Old Sturbridge Village

Owen's favorite part of Old Sturbridge Village, possibly even beating out the hand-cranked ice cream, is the wagon ride courtesy of Mike and Jerry, the most beautiful and powerful draft horses he's ever seen. They can pull six thousand pounds with ease - probably more, but, as their mild-mannered driver told us, the horses become sad and discouraged if you give them something they can't pull, so they stick to a weight load that the horses can definitely handle.

From Old Sturbridge Village

Here are Mike and Jerry, getting a drink of water.

From Old Sturbridge Village

Both boys enjoyed the musket firing demonstration, despite its loudness. They got to ask a million questions, and even got to hold a musket ball:

From Old Sturbridge Village

Those things are heavy!

Luke especially is very taken with the games that children played in the 1830's:

From Old Sturbridge Village

From Old Sturbridge Village

We all are, if you want the truth. They're fun!

From Old Sturbridge Village

From Old Sturbridge Village

Trust me, stilts are much harder than they look.

I think one of my favorite spots in the whole place is the Pasture Walk. The path goes through the pastures of Freeman Farm, and the animals are hanging around, grazing!

From Old Sturbridge Village

From Old Sturbridge Village

Because Luke instructed Owen on how to not scare sheep away, they nibbled grass right up to our feet. I mean, like six inches away from us. It was amazing. (That brick building in the distance was for the town's gunpowder stores. They kept it away from the other buildings in case of fire; isn't that a good idea?)

From Old Sturbridge Village

Both boys, but especially Luke, were fascinated with the blacksmithy. Luke and his dad stood inside that 90-plus degree building for at least forty-five minutes, watching this apprentice forge a single chain link. (Owen and I caught the tail end of it, we had been learning about the Freeman Farm root cellar, where they still winter over their food.)

From Old Sturbridge Village

This is place that I have a feeling I'll be blogging about often. They are having a Revolutionary War reenactment in a few weeks, and other cool and interesting programs go on throughout the year. But I think the reason the boys love it so much is because of all the interpreters, especially the young apprentices. The idea that somebody not so very much older than Luke himself is forging iron or making lamps out of tin is exciting, especially for kids living in our modern world where children are often treated, as Lenore Skenazy recently pointed out, as "the new 50s housewives."