Homemade Festive Decorations

Whether you celebrate Christmas, Summer Solstice, Winter Solstice or simply the togetherness of family this season, it's the notion of giving that I wish to bestow on my children this and every year. And what better gift to give than something you have shaped with your own hands from simple ingredients every kitchen cupboard contains. To make something from nothing is so rewarding for children, they roll the dough with love and care, sprinkle some glitter with glee and wait impatiently for it to dry so that it can be tied with pretty ribbon. And voila, a gift for family and friends that in no way buys into the rampant consumerism that we are bombarded with from late September. Yes, did you notice that too…September!

 And while the gift keeps giving as every year it is hung on a new tree and is a reminder of the hands which fashioned it, it’s important to me that we keep a few for our own tree so that the children can appreciate their handiwork over the years. And for friends who don’t celebrate Christmas or a have Solstice tree, a heart or a star, symbols of love and light,  can be hung and appreciated all year round.

 We have started a new family tradition when it comes to trees, because although it is proactive to cut down the pine trees which are invasive to our local biodiversity, it’s also lovely to plant a tree every festive season. A Yellowwood tree works really well as a Christmas tree because of its shape and leaves, they look spectacular decorated  and are even happier when planted after the celebrations! What about a yearly growing grove of indigenous Christmas trees, to offset the carbon footprint inevitable from a time of excess and merriment? Hmmm...conjures a better image than a pile of brown pine needles, hey!

 

So here is the recipe for these handmade decorations that look so beautiful hanging in a Yellowwood tree….

 

 

 Air Drying Clay Recipe

 

·         2 cups bicarbonate of soda (a whole box)

·         1 cup cornstarch (Maizena)

·         1 ½ cups cold water

·         Aprons and plastic/wooden placemats

·         Rollers and cookie cutters

·         Glitter (optional)

 

1.   Mix all the ingredients together in a small pot until smooth.

2.   Cook, stirring continuously, until it is the texture of smooth mashed potatoes.

3.   Dish quickly onto a plate and allow to cool. Briefly knead the dough to even it out. (Add some glitter to the dough for an extra bit of sparkle.)

4.   Work with it immediately once cool to make decorations. Roll out with a roller and use cookie cutters in different shapes. Use a straw or matchstick to make a hole to later thread the ribbon.

5.   Allow to harden overnight.

6.   Thread with pretty ribbon when they are dry.

 (recipe from 52 ways to Grow Creative Children by Lisl Barry)

 

And may your end of year celebrations be filled with the simple joys of cooking and eating together as a family, the warm glow that giving grants and appreciation for your Solstice, whether it be the purity and stillness of snow or the bliss of sun-kissed skin.

 

 

Learning to Trust

The much watched rain gauge

Children teach us so much about trust, they make good friends in 5 minutes

Two very different experiences have recently brought me to the same realisation, quite simply, to trust. There are so many things over which you have no control, but what you can choose is the way in which you live your life. And learning to trust that which you can’t control as well as that which you can has provided an incredibly meaningful shift of perspective for me.

A few months ago we were all wearing gum boots and people on the street were shaking their heads and muttering to themselves ‘will this rain ever stop?’,  we all thought summer would never come. I alone was fervently thinking to myself, ‘please, please let it rain some more, not just a drizzle, not a soft caressing rain, but a downpour that rings on the tin roof and fills a rain tank in a day. Please, please let it rain!’ I was guiltily aware that I was probably the only person in our town thinking that and yet nothing was going to stop me wishing for rain, I longed for it so much that it ached.

We had been having the kind of rain that made my dear man and I look at each other in wide-eyed wonder and grin as the rain falling with such incessant strength rapidly filled our tanks until they were overflowing. There is not much for me that rivals the joy of rain filling tanks. Not having enough money for a couple of months is deeply stressful, but running out of water is a devastating feeling. But luckily, we were all set for the summer with full tanks, a good place to be.

But lots of powerful rain also leads to lots of leaks in new and interesting places. And an attempt to fix the leaks to prevent the lounge from flooding once again went horribly awry when the rain arrived earlier than predicted and the paint on the roof had not yet dried.  I discovered, with horror, that the water that had been entering the tanks was milky white. With paint. Our drinking water, our everything water, our lifeline, had been contaminated. The decision we took to drain the 15 000 litres was extremely painful, but necessary. And the immobilising panic morphed into the constant dull ache for a downpour.

I cut out the Dalai Lama from the cover of the Big Issue with the quote ‘Don’t worry, it’s pointless, be happy’, because no matter how much I wished for the rain I couldn’t make it happen. And so I had to learn to trust. And it did rain again. And although our tanks didn’t fill to the brim we should be ok. And if we aren’t, I simply need to trust that, on a day not of my choosing, it will rain again.

So while I may not be able to choose when it rains, I can choose the kind of schooling experience my children have. And although I had fallen into the trap of boxing Waldorf education as ‘airy fairy’, all it took was for me to walk into a kindergarten classroom and experience the care with which each natural element had been placed for me to see it afresh. My children are so blissfully happy at school because they are given the space to truly play, to genuinely imagine and to gently explore their place  in the world by interacting respectfully with both friends and the trees they love to climb. I don’t want my children to ever lose the love of learning and I have experienced how Waldorf makes this possible.

And perhaps it is because I come from a line of doctors with a true gift for helping, that my need to help others is sometimes misdirected. I definitely felt the calling to help within me when choosing what to study and at the last minute chose not to do medicine, but rather environmental science, a calling of a different kind. And yet I still find myself attempting to help others, whether it be by telling them about some amazing biodegradable baby wipes or where to buy organic veggies. So when it came to our pioneer school and the delight my children were experiencing there I was over eager to share the joy. I expended so much energy trying to convince people how wonderful it was so their children could experience it too, instead of allowing myself to simply enjoy how happy it was making my own children. Until I was reminded by an insightful teacher to trust. And I immediately took a step back and for the first time allowed myself to relish the fact that my children and in fact all the children at the school are really flourishing. And to trust that the school will grow because of that. In the same way that I trust that the rain will always come, at some point.


I have learnt that: no matter how much I wish for it, I cannot make it rain, I simply have to trust that it will because the alternative is too mind numbing to think about. And secondly, if you build it, they will come. If you find something good that you want to share with others it is almost impossible to convince them vicariously. You simply have to live it, enjoy it and be it and trust that there will be those who will find it in their own time. My favourite quote of all time by the great Ghandi says it all, quite simply “be the change you wish to see in the world”. And trust it.

Living the Good Life

Ooo children love digging! Helping to remove the last of the grass to make way for new veggie garden beds

I always dreamt of having a veggie garden where the vegetables would tower over my children as they walked down the paths, enticing them with a smorgasbord of flavours and smells. And there really is a lot of power in the mantra of choosing the life you would like to lead. Although my children are growing rapidly and the new veggie garden is not as yet towering over them I still garner such satisfaction from watching my fussy 'I-don't-eat-vegetables' 3-year-old picking fresh mange tout by the handfuls and happily crunching all their sweet nutritious goodness right there in the garden. My reasons for wanting to leave the city with my first-born and lead a simple country life with an emphasis on fresh air, open spaces and healthy living are coming to fruition and I’m realising that we’re living the life I’ve chosen and dreamt of.

“Joy is what happens when we allow ourselves to recognise how good things really are.”  - Marianne Williamson

Eating our own home grown veggies is such a vital element of living the good life because it covers so many bases, it’s the ultimate manifestation of thinking global and acting local! By growing your own veggies you cut out the whole string of events that finally allows a well sprayed and well travelled veggie from landing up on a supermarket shelf. I was so amazed to find out from a local organic farmer (who unfortunately stopped farming and selling at the local market because it just wasn’t viable) that although it was great that a huge national supermarket chain was buying her produce to sell at the local store, the poor veggies had to travel 300km to the nearest city and it’s distribution depot and then back again before landing up in the local store’s display fridge. Instead of travelling 15km from farm to shop they were travelling 600km just because they had to be part of the formalised distribution process! Crazy, but true. Especially when those lovingly grown organic veggies would have lost most of their nutrition on the journey. Veggies only have a set amount of nutrients and begin losing them the minute they are harvested as they consume their own nutrients to stay alive. So, the shorter the distance between farm and fork, the better. Which multiplies my joy when I see my children eating straight out the garden because the distance the nutrients are travelling is literally from hand to mouth! And I would far rather wander down the paths of a veggie garden with all it’s interesting diversions than down the aisles of a supermarket and ITS diversions with two small children. Any young mother will know what I’m talking about! Never mind the actual effort of getting them in the car, out the car and into the shop. I’d choose to walk down the garden path any day…

And yet the dream and the reality take time to merge, having our very own veggie garden has certainly met with a few obstacles along the way, which is why although we having been living in our cottage where the forest meets the fynbos for almost 5 years our viable garden is still very new. We are solely dependent on rain water and this water for our home has been too precious to use on the garden. So in order to water the veggies I had to walk down to the dam with a watering can, collect water and walk back up to the garden to water them. And because I was pregnant or breastfeeding for 4 years straight and at the same time we suffered a crippling drought where our small dam actually dried up, you can imagine that my lovingly planted veggies died a slow, hot death. It was very disheartening, but my focus was on nurturing and nourishing my own babies and not the plant babies and I’m happy to say they survived and thrived even though we had to make do with veggies that were not always local or organic. But that has all changed and the dream has become a reality thanks to a number of factors. We always had a grey water system which directed our bathroom water to a small garden and it produced some happy herbs and an artichoke or two, but nothing very efficient. But thanks to a groundswell Permaculture movement initiated by a passionate newcomer to our area we have all started working together in each other’s gardens and transforming them into productive spaces. It is the most satisfying endeavour to experience the true meaning of community. Our greywater garden was revolutionised in a day by a group of dedicated, spade-wielding friends, it was moved to a bigger space and the gradient was put to good use to filtrate the water through the landscape. It was truly humbling, inspiring and very exciting!

 Another factor which has made our garden viable was that our car port collapsed. Hmmm, yes, I did just write that. It was made with locally harvested untreated wood and the ants got the better of it, but it lead to great things. Firstly, the poles and latte were used to build a fence round the new veggie garden to protect it from our digging and dumping dogs, very important! Secondly, my actor/director husband built his very first structure ever, a new car port with a tin roof. And that meant we could harvest the rain from the roof and use it in the veggie garden, for the first time I would be able to water my precious seedlings without carrying water from the dam. And today was the day the tap was installed in the garden and the children and I braved the cold Easterly wind to turn the tap for the very first time, fill our watering cans and water the new seeds and the thirsty strawberries. I never thought I would experience such joy from seeing a tap on a post! Bliss! Round the supper table this evening we were all saying what made us happy and thankful today and when I asked my 3-year old boy what made him happy he replied without hesitation “The tap in the garden”. Well, that sums it up then, we certainly are living the good life!

I have learnt 1. To choose to live the good life  2. To be patient and  3. To endeavour to make dreams a reality… with a little help from my friends.