A short story about a tall tree

We didn't spend much money on fancy flowers or trees at the cottage. It was just a little cement block house in the woods and even though the forest was endless and the lake enormous, the land we owned was tiny.
But it was ours, and we wanted to surround it with the nature that surrounded us. Local plants, you might say, which is why one day my dad and I set out with some buckets and a shovel in search of a few saplings.
"The woods are full of them," he said.
And so we went, trudging over the hills for what seemed like hours and hours before we headed home, my dad carrying the buckets and I dragging the shovel behind me. Our hands were dirty, but we both smelled of pine sap from the load we were transplanting.
After a quick glass of iced tea, it was time to get planting, which we did without whine or fuss. We put a few pines down by the lake, a few along the driveway, and just a couple behind the cottage. With the shovel patting down the dirt on the last one, we left them be, their future up to Mother Nature and the storms that came down off the hill.
Weeks or months passed and on another trip to the cottage I noticed that one of the trees was looking rather puny, its green branches small and kind of droopy, and the entire thing tilted down hill like it had been pushed over by a thundering gust of wind. I couldn’t bear to see it like that, so with the grace of my eight-year-old hands, I righted the little pine and tucked it in. Using my best Tinker Toy skills, I collected small sticks and twigs and built a log cabin around the little tree. Round and round I worked until it was well protected for the upcoming winter, and on each returning visit I checked the construction and made any necessary repairs.
Sure enough, I fell in love with that little pine tree.
My parents sold the property when I was just old enough to take my own children there. Although they were very young, I still could barely believe they were tromping over the same ground and around the same trees that I had so many years ago.
Before we handed over the keys, I posed my children in front of my pine tree for one last photograph.
“Why do we need to stand by this giant pine tree?” the oldest asked.
“Exactly,” I answered, and snapped the photo, in awe of what a little love can do.

Toads in our fairy house!

It appears our fairy house has attracted more than just fairies...

The little guy is fairly hard to see in the top photo, but he's there, perched just on the carpet of moss so lovingly supplied by us. We think he's there, waiting for us to set up the tiny stone dishes (iron-weathered sandstone makes fine china) for a little toad tea party.

What an excellent way to celebrate the Summer Solstice!

Transfixed by a turtle and spit bugs

We spent this past Tuesday morning at The Wilderness Center, a favorite hangout, doing a program for kids (and those who have them) about insects. Armed with sweep nets and bug boxes, we headed outside to collect bugs.
I learned about many things, including a little tidbit about spit bugs. You know, those bugs that create a little blob of spit like stuff on branches to hide in? Found out that they should actually be called "diarrhea bugs" because that's the end they make the bubbles with. Save THAT one for your next friendly conversation!
In any case, after collecting the bugs, we brought them back to feed to the resident box turtle, the only turtle in Ohio that can completely pull in its arms and leg. Incidentally, this is a rescued turtle who is missing a leg.
And sure, it was fun enough for the big kids. Flower girl was a bit fearful of touching the turtle, but she gave in. Scout was all over the thing. But it was the little one, who has yet to earn her name (I'm leaning towards Rocks because of her love of hematite, but more on that later) that showed unbridled enthusaism. I'm talking loud and violent enthusiasm. Screaming and clapping, arm waving, foot stomping. All for the love of this 3 legged turtle who is slurping up worms and other slow bugs that we showered him with.
For me, it was just another one of those moments, the kind that makes me stop in my tracks and think about what really matters. Shopping lists, laundry baskets, vacuum cleaners, neglected blogs. They don't matter. It was that moment, that very moment, of pure innocence and fascination with that turtle that really makes the world go round.
Not that I'd ever get a pet turtle, but I can tell I've really been blessed with a child with a love of nature. Truly blessed.

A REAL Review: CAMP The Board Game

This is one of our favorites. And I'm pleased as a peony (?) that Momicillin.com has accepted my review to run on their really fun site!

Go. Visit. Read. Sign up for your Daily Dose-- it's about the only newsletter I get that I actually read. But not after you check out my Bruce the Moose review!

Make your own wormery: One heck of a conversational centerpiece

I have perfected the wormery. Or at least I think I have. Not only is this design functional, but it's also attractive. Put some flowers in there and leave it on the dinner table for hubby/in-laws/neighbors/bosses/etc. Guaranteed it'll be the talk of the town!

Find all of the directions here and get digging! This is a fun one!

Native American sign language, so beatifully simple

This past week we attended a free lesson on Native Americans from a man who lives a half an hour from here. Talking with him before the session started I learned that he actually grew up just beyond the back fence of my own childhood home!
In any case, he talked for one hour about Native Americans to a group of children that I know personally can be a bit unruly.
But the kids SAT. They LISTENED. And at least my own kid LEARNED.
Of the many things he taught us, one tidbit was about Indian sign language. He showed us a very simple thought: Yesterday I went walking in the woods. I saw leaves falling. I was happy.
For some reason my daughter absolutely fell in love with these sentences and has been repeating them over and over for the past 3 days.
They are, I admit, astonishingly beautiful.
Take, for example, the last sentence. The sign for "I" is obvious. Point to yourself with your thumb. The sign for happiness, however, takes the cake if not the entire bakery. Happiness, or joy, or some other grin-wearing, warm-hearted, glowing emotion that we probably don't have a good word for in English, is done by making the sign for sunrise and having it rise out of your heart. A sunrise out of your heart.
I want that every day for myself and for all I love, for the rest of my life. If everyday I have at least one moment when I feel like a sunrise is coming out of my heart, I will be one happy camper.

But as beautiful as it is, I was getting a little tired of hearing about falling leaves and went online to find something else. What I found was a plethora of signs and everything I would want to know here as well as looking at their home page which made me want to drop everything and run out the woods with pocket knife, a rope, and a boy scout tune.

Of the things we found, the site offers a Native American blessing which, after sifting through all of the sign, is another keeper. The words are fairly plain. MAY THE GREAT MYSTERY MAKE SUNRISE IN YOUR HEART.

I turn on the news and there is religious turmoil causing so much pain and suffering. Closer to home I feel pressures from churches, to do this or that, to join something or other. But for me this sentence trumps it all.

Interestingly, the Indian sign for this blessing, according to the site, is actually translated into the following motions:
Medicine
Great
Work
Sunrise
Heart

Great Medicine, great mystery. It's really all a mystery, but it's one that is Great.
Work. It really does take work...I wish more people knew that good things come to those who work.
Sunrise. A new day, a new promise, a new smile.
Heart. What really counts.

Next time you're bored at the computer, do yourself a favor and close the entertainment news or fox or cnn, and learn this beautiful blessing in its beautiful sign. I can't promise, but it just might make a little sunrise come out of your heart.

Open Window on a Summer Night

Last night, underneath my summer sheets
I listened to the summer tweets.
The crickets chirped, the katys-did,
The spiders creeped from where they hid.
The peepers peeped, the raccoons scratched,
I’m sure from eggs new critters hatched.
I listened and wondered, at close of day,
Do they listen to me when I play?
Do my laughs and giggles and runnings about
Help sing them to sleep when the sun is out?

-klkmc

Toad condos for rent. cheap.

I kind of feel a column coming out of this, but let me just say that as much as I love wildlife, wildlife doesn't really like me. I've got a long history of bad run-ins with critters, from dead bunnies to chickens to otters etc.

So it puzzles me greatly that I should work extra hard to get critters in my yard. It seems this year I am outdoing myself with the backyard wildlife landscaping, attempting to attract all sorts of fauna that essentially I don't like.

It's taken me a long time to come to terms with this, but I'm finally ready to admit it.

I only like to LOOK at animals. Touching is not something I'm good at, and if I never have to hold another snake or frog, I'll be all the more happier.

But still, my most recent backyard addition is a series of small toad houses that the kids and I made. Very fun for them, cute outcome, and as if there aren't enough toads in the yard, here I am putting up free housing and water.

I suppose I can consider it paying back the toad Gods of the animal kingdom, because I know I have caused my fair share of toad deaths.

Not that I'm keeping a count, but I know that there's already one dead one in the door jamb in the garage. And once they get super crazy this summer, we'll loses at least a couple to the final leap down the basment steps. (These are known as Kamikaze toads.) And finally, knowing that the lawn practically moves at certain times in the summer because I see it up close when I'm mowing, a few [hundred thousand?] must go to that big dirt hole in the sky once those blades start spinning.

And apparently the circle of life for toads also includes a stop over at the McAllister condos. For free.

MAKE YOUR OWN! I posted my own here. Thanks for clicking!