In which we join the crane migration.

Around here, for the last 10,000 years, sandhill cranes have been migrating on their way to and from warmer climes. This year we joined them, at least for a little while, in what I hope will become an annual trip. The kids and I drove a couple hours to slightly-more-central Nebraska and then explored a visitor's center devoted to all things crane (including the various sculptures and paintings pictured here.) Then we spent time driving along the edges of farmers' fields stalking the cranes (and in Peter's case, hollering invitations to them, which had the effect he intended - scaring them off. We call this kind of non-invitation-invitation "performative noncompliance" when we are seeking to be fancy, and "somewhat irritating 7yo boy behavior" when we are being more honest.)

Our actual crane photos were not all that impressive, but our small party was unworried by rain or travel time or distance from our intended quarry. We were cheerful and ate cookies and listened to good music in the car. Some of us posed for pictures, some not, and generally a fine time was had by all.

We're not in Nicaragua anymore.

The joyful oversharing of my tropical travel photos is thus interrupted with this news bulletin: baby, it's cold out there. (This is the view from my fourth-floor office window of the parking lot and its huge mountain of snow.)

One of my students approached me with a somewhat mournful reworking of our trip-long saying, "We're not in Nebraska anymore!" (employed cheerfully during times of significant trial, like not being able to get enough coffee or possible killer bats or spending the day treating children suffering from significant parasites, etc.). She said yesterday, as we met in a chilly classroom having schlepped across campus in -15 windchill, "We're not in Nicaragua anymore." And we're not. And it's cold, and if you're say stuck under 2 feet of snow in Chicago it's probably not anything remarkable to hear that we've had storms and ice and school closures and generally miserable weather, but man, it's cold, and I kind of am missing the friendly cows and the ziplining and the tropical fruit. Although I'm happy with the good plumbing still.

Cue the Jimi Hendrix ...

... Waterfall! One of our nicest afternoons in Costa Rica was spent doing a bit of hiking and wading to see a pair of really beautiful waterfalls. It reminded me of hiking in Montana: there was the slightly rickety swaying bridge over the water, the slightly fraught path back to the second waterfall, the getting totally soaked taking pictures, and the sense of one's own smallness in the natural world. Also by the end my Keen sandals were quite clean, which was a refreshing change of pace. (I know: again with the shoes.) Only a couple of the students had the footwear to slog through the water, but they really loved the experience of being so close to the second waterfall.

Remember the time we killed that chicken?

Ok, ok, so it was really the time that the very capable and sweet-but-shy Nicaraguan farm hand taught us how to kill and pluck and gut a chicken, and it was kind of tough but we tried to eat it anyway? Yeah. That was awesome.
Note: Farm hand (named something like Jader, possibly?) and students did all of the killing and gutting; I did help pluck and cook as none of them were really very experienced with things like onions. Or stirring. It was a division of labor that worked for us. You butcher; I saute. The most amusing moment of the whole thing was when the resident parrot (a not-quite-pet) was eyeing us and making gritching noises and one of my students stared him down and told him coolly, "You're next!"

The farm was simply beautiful - a great view of the mountains, a graceful layout and exhuberant plantings. The couple who farm the land have worked really hard to raise the profile of organic foods, and to keep the foods affordable for average folks. They have this huge collection of seeds and grow an astonishing range of foods. They were generous and funny and kind to us and fed us until we couldn't have held more food. (Plus they were really nice when I was the proximate cause of a cow accident - I was just finished with my turn milking her when someone offered her a banana and she got so excited that she fell over and there were a few mintes of rather desperate cow-wrangling and she was fine but I was about to cry out of empathy and the conviction that I'd hurt her. And yes, I eat beef sometimes. But this was different.)

When we left, we walked about a mile (downhill, over some pretty rough dirt roads) to the bus stop, and then took regular public transportation to church. It's a tough call, selecting shoes that are both hiking-friendly and church-suitable, but it turns out I have particular skill in that area. I did not learn a bit of Spanish before leaving, but I sure as hell had the right shoes.

In which a mama departs the continent, has adventures, and returns to her beloved babies somewhat wiser and more exhausted than before.

So, true confession: I left the kids for two weeks (!) to take students to Central America, where it is warm. In Nebraska: not warm. This might suggest that mama was having a vacation, and indeed, I did clean some sand from the beach out of my ears just yesterday. (Sorry: TMI.) However, mama also spent significant time without running/drinkable water, and the babies were safely at home with their regular plumbing setup. I've put up an overview of photos from both Nicaragua and Costa Rica, and will blog a bit in more detail as time allows over the next few days and weeks.

Some highlights: killed a chicken. Or, more accurately, was involved in the killing of a chicken. I did pluck the little bugger myself, and cook it. Saw a lovely statue of St. Lucia and chatted in my three words of Spanish with the kid selling candles at the church about my tattoo. Met many, many former soldiers and heard some stories that would curl your hair. Speaking of hair, mine looked like hell for the whole two weeks (yes, I have evidence!) and I am glad to once again have easy access to clean clothing and a hairdryer. I now know more about the Nicaraguan healthcare system than I would have thought possible (or hoped.) I can recommend some good rum. I received a special little plaque for milking a cow, and many reassurances that the Bad Thing that happened during the milking was not my fault, but due to the mis-timed offer of a banana to said cow during the milking. (Really short version: sometimes cows fall down, and it's a little scary.) I have now bathed in really cold water dipped with a bowl from a trashcan and been grateful to be clean-ish afterwards. I ate an estimated 35 meals of mostly rice and beans. (Which: yum!)

So if you're interested in photos of other people's travels, stay tuned, as I have a goodly number to share. I'm happy to be home, glad I went, and don't anticipate a repeat any time soon, although ... you never know.

Merry Christmas!

In lieu of a Christmas card (which I have yet again not written ...) I dug up a few favorite photos from this year to put here. It is bittersweet to get so many cards in the mail, from faithful friends and family who don't get return cards from us - such pleasure at being remembered, and at being able to catch up a bit with growing kids and various adventures, but so! difficult not to compare my actual accomplishments with the endless and ever-more-perfect list in my head of things I should have done.

Things I might have written, had I sent such a card:

Peter is lively and energetic and was, I believe, the inspiration behind the structure of the children's Sunday School program earlier in the month - it involved a reinactment of the Creation narrative, complete with interpretive dance to represent the emergence of various critters onto the earth, and there's really nobody like Peter for wriggling around energetically in church. We feel loved at our church and that makes the rest of the week easier.

Grace is doing a range of things inside and outside school, including dance and violin, and along with Peter has become a veritable encyclopedia of all things Harry Potter-related. Her analysis of Dolores Umbridge, in particular, is quite interesting. (She is, for the uninitiated, scary as hell. Dolores, I mean, as Grace is a lovely young person and not at all scary.) I've become the mother who has to remove the book from the child's hand if she wants teeth brushed or the table set, and I think that's a good sign.

We are otherwise making our way, more or less. I am astonished by how busy we are, and yet we almost always eat a dinner together that someone has made from actual ingredients. I'm planning a marathon next July with my fabulous friend Kara. About 90% of the time, I really love my job. I learned a lot about what kind of music my students listen to this year, and am a more culturally attuned person for it. Mike's working hard and at his job and is now on church council which is, I think, a sign of his life coming full Lutheran circle.

I can hardly bear how big my kids have gotten, but am also so pleased that they're interesting people who make me laugh and make me think.

So thanks for the friendship and patience, sorry about the lack of cards, and phone calls, and timely birthday greetings, and the slightly neglected yard, and the occasional late return of papers, and the other various daily instances of imperfection and finitude. We'll figure it all out eventually.

Long time, no blog...

Oh, dear... December already? Sigh. This mama has had a busy fall!



We had a lovely Sankta Lucia celebration today, or two really - one at church, one at home. Yesterday we baked Lussekatter, and today we ate it.

Peter vetoed the Starboy hat this year, so Grace did Lucia at home as a solo production, but at church Peter was delighted to dress up in Lady Martyr Drag - he wanted a Lucia crown, and a Lucia crown he got. (I made one for each kid in our small Sunday School out of garland and ribbons - while I neglected to take any pictures at all, they were plenty cute.) The kids helped to pass out cookies for the choir's annual post-church cookie fest, and then helped to collect plates, etc. after people were done. It was easy, and fun, and successful, and helpful to the elderly choir ladies hosting, so it felt like a series of wins. It was a holiday lite version of the celebration this year, although I may still come to their respective classrooms to teach a bit about the Lucia tradition, separation of church and state pending. (Yep, I'm serious, but they got jelly donuts for Hanukkah, so I think gingersnaps for St. Lucia shouldn't be too much of a stretch...)