Winter rambling

I felt in good spirits this morning. I do love Sundays! Lazy relaxed days that have no definite beginning and usually cosy ends. Sundays in Winter seem the most special ones of all. I love nothing more than pottering about at home bundled up in a rather hotch potch mix of snuggly clothes, getting stuff done. No school work, no groups ....bliss!

This morning I was the first one up and after busying myself with the mundane 'must do's' for an hour or so, I felt the desperate urge to go out and experience the sunshine that was beaming in through the kitchen window. Amazingly, when I asked if anyone would like to join me, one child rather enthusiastically agreed! He also rather to my surprise, wanted to bring a tape measure with him so that he could catch oysters and measure them. Well of course, not wanting to quash the faintest hint of a maths activity, even on a weekend, I happily agreed and waited patiently for him to gather up his things.
I should have known......said oyster catching activity was in fact The Boy's plan to have me take him fishing!

It was freezing cold this morning and just the perfect morning to be out and about whilst wrapped in warm layers. The lake was mostly frozen over which added to the excitement. Even Jenny dog was pleased to be out, she ran off and found a pile of stinky poop to rub her neck in.......



The Boy is really quite responsible these days so after a short while of interested observations on my part, I was able to stroll off around the lake to admire the beauty of the light as it enhanced the incredible colours and created stunning reflections on the ice. I marvel at the beauty of this amazing place every time I walk here and thank my lucky stars that I have access.

Jenny dog is pretty good at staying close by as an elderly lady of ten, she used to be a total pain in the butt and run off chasing anything that moved as a youngster. Today she thought it rather fun to disturb the birds that were resting in the reeds by the waters edge and almost had her comeuppance as a result. I was almost all the way round when she thought she'd try walking on the ice. Silly dog! That horrid moment of thought that crosses your mind ......thankfully all was well!

The Boy was most excited upon my return to announce that he had caught a perch. A teeny weeny one but nether the less a fish :-)

*Fish was returned to the water unharmed.

It's all about hunting.....

Jee whizz! Life with my boy is all about hunting and gathering these days. I've been panicking that he's not up to scratch with the three R's but you know, the life skills learnt from those lessons are not going to help in the event of a major disaster. I feel pretty confident that should such an event occur, then I shall certainly stand a chance of remaining safe and well looked after in his care.
There is of course a price to pay living with a creature of such a wild disposition.....life literally revolves around den building, fishing, shooting, catapulting, egg/nest hunting, digging and general outdoor living. It challenges me daily.

Little old me really doesn't share the same interests, although I am pleased that he spends so much of his time exploring nature. I feel somewhat queasy and rather weak at the knees at some of the tasks I am expected to assist with. The first time I took him fishing, I had that sudden realisation that I would have to be the one to deal with the slimy little fish and remove them from the hook....uuurrrrrgggghhhh! I shudder at the thought. Lucky for him he has learnt to deal with such matters himself these days. I guess it was a matter of necessity on his behalf lest he should pursue his interest.

Yesterday I finally gave in to the constant badgering for a cray fishing trip (or crawfish as they are known in the US). Normally I have to rectify and bring back from the ashes our rather battered homemade nets, but this year the boy took it upon himself to repair them, and a great job he did too. So at school collection time we packed two rather battered nets; ready filled with stinky dog food, in the back of the car. Uuurrrggghhh! Dog food really isn't a pleasant aroma at the best of times! The conversation on the way to the school all related to potentially well stocked streams with convenient 'net dropping' access points.....Poor Little lady, after a tiring first day at school she had to endure the stench of the dog food and an overexcited brother during our planned homeward detour.

Popping the nets into the river is a breeze for the boy now, he's done it several times with myself and a friend and so on this occasion I was able to sit in the car and well...... chat to my sister whilst I waited. It wasn't until I found myself sitting in the same spot before 8.30am this morning that it occurred to me that I was actually there as an accomplice in the crime of poaching! Suddenly the thought of the headline news strikes me. Eeeekkk! 'Mother of three brought before magistrates for poaching'......'but I'm a vegetarian and wanna be animal rights activist!'
So you can guess what someones having for supper tonight, luckily he is dealing with everything (cooking and all) by himself and we didn't get caught! :-)

Mother in a mother/father role

To all you wonderful father's out there, a very happy father's day! What exactly does that mean to you?.........

I woke up this morning and as part of my 'getting ready' morning ritual. I happened to glance in the mirror upon which I thought, 'I am playing the role of both mother and father to my children'. I know I'm not alone, many of us are struggling along making the best of the situations that we find ourselves in. Parenting is no easy feat to either mother or father but playing both roles is....well, let's be frank, 'not what I signed up to!' Us mother's need help, we need responsible males to act as role models to our future men, it simply isn't good enough to turn your backs on the younger generation and single mother's and expect them to function and do the whole job alone. The same applies in reverse for all the single father's out there.

Tea anyone?

I function on daily basis in the knowledge that my friends and some family members are there to support me.  But I have to confess I do feel let down. In the four and a half years that I have been on this parenting journey alone, not one person has genuinely taken my son under their wing to initiate them into the world of men, yet all too often I am faced with criticism relating to incidences of unruly behaviour. What happened to the old saying and action 'It takes a village to raise a child?' We shouldn't be faced with a world where we feel we are running the show alone.

On days when I'm feeling glum about the whole journey it helps to imagine how proud my late husband would be of me and of our children. He would know that I would rise to the challenge. Unfortunately he would also be rather furious of those who are part of my world whom have no or little involvement. 

Facing the parenting journey as a widow is a completely different experience to that of the single parent who has an ex partner who does at least have contact with the children. Unless you have an amazingly supportive family the widow's journey is incredibly lonely and one of survival. Everyday is challenging in different ways - you learn to accept your lot and deal with it the best you can - what choice do you have?

Fishing.....not a morsel caught

My boy is growing up into a lovely individual. Yes he does have his moments but generally I am hopeful that he will one day become a  decent and caring individual, he'll certainly have a good knowledge and much experience of women; it would be difficult not too when surrounded by three of them! He's always been an independent chap but now I'm seeing the fruits of my labour and his freedom coming to fruition.

This last week the boy has started calling me 'Sweet pea' - I love it! He frequently displays genuinely caring and compassionate behaviour; a sign to me that he is maturing in the right direction.

Despite living in a house full of females, he remains very much a male.
Recently I've admired how my boy has developed and mastered strong survival skills, from his own innate curiosity. I encourage him to help out around the house but more often than not he uses his own initiative and gets stuck into a task. The boy works hard, he's a grafter like his father; I've never witnessed such determination and a thorough hard working ethic in any other man. Just this last week I made the decision to cut down a tree that stood in our gateway which unfortunately had become diseased and died. The boy (with a little help from his sisters) saw and helped with the job from the cutting down right through to the final clear up of all the twigs. Not once did he complain or bore but laboured on alongside me.

The remaining tree stump took on a new role in the garden the following day. The boy arose early sourced all his tools and beavered away all day creating a platform for himself (and his cup I was later informed!).

I'm not just witnessing practical skills, there's also a sense of care for animals. This little fledgling was found rambling on the ground near the boys newly created vegetable garden. He brought it in to show me, having been keen to rescue it and keep it from the reach of our moggie. It makes me smile to witness how he returns to check on such creatures time and time again :-)

Tadpoles are interesting creatures....

The poor boy witnessed one of his guppies die this week. It took three whole days for the poor little fish to make the transition. Fen, although upset initially, almost seemed relieved when it finally passed and gave a great deal of attention to burying it in the garden. I was in the bath when he returned from his duty and he slipped one arm around the door, not wanting me to see his sadness as it had obviously been an emotional moment for him. Later he told me how he had created a grave and covered it so that the cat couldn't dig it up. Upon inspection he had drawn a heart, F and B for 'fish' and 'bubbles' on a piece of slate to mark the spot.
It's tough for me dealing with things outside of my comfort zone on a daily basis but even more daunting for the boy having to live in a female dominated household. He copes amazingly well and remains true to himself and his being. I feel so privileged to witness his journey into manhood unfold, I just wish his father and other significant males were available to witness it and be apart of his life too.

Spot the newt

Best of friends....

Man in the making

First impressions and to those who don't truly know my boy, he appears loud and abrupt and  frequently badly behaved. Through careful observation I have concluded that he mostly behaves in this way when he requires attention of sorts; when his needs are not being met.  Having said that he does have a very sweet and sensitive side. He senses when people don't like him, he has a strong sense of justice and is fully aware when he isn't treated fairly. I genuinely believe even at his young age that I could rely on him to protect me and the girls. He's clever and possesses good common sense. He has developed skills of survival through experimentation mainly and through being permitted the space to grow. From a very young age, I have trusted my children and allowed them to take risks. I let them drink from glasses as toddlers, gave them real scissors to cut with and in the case of the boy, I've allowed him to safely make up the fire which he does perfectly and has done for several years (before you panic, if you show them how to do things properly and supervise whilst informing them of the risks, they take note. The experimentation comes when things are prohibited).
Tim and I watched Fen tending our bonfire from a distance when he was just four. He had observed carefully and pushed the ends of the burning wood in perfectly safely.

Today the young man was roaming outside. I am so fortunate to live in the country with regards to having a boy of my type. He has so much freedom. I can happily let him cycle out in several directions for two miles by himself and with friends, it's brilliant! Mostly he doesn't venture that far and if he does choose to, he does inform me first; which I am grateful for. Today he was addressing an environmental problem: Flooding. With the help of the boy next door, my young fellow had managed to dig a connecting drain from the corner of the field into the stream; thereby allowing all the flood water that had collected at the bottom end of the field, to drain into the stream. Drain it did. The boys; it seemed, had literally created a cascading waterfall which free flowed at speed into the rapidly expanding stream.
Fen is very aware when near water and sensible too. He's been fascinated by the flood water. A couple of days ago he decided to sail his new steamboat; which he received for Christmas. I popped out to encourage him and watch the moment of excitement as his boat had the freedom of a vast span of water as opposed to the limitations of the sink and bath which he had previously used. I heard him mention taking two matches to light the burner and wondered how he would cope against the wind. I don't make suggestions straight away about dealing with problems but instead allow him to actively discover for himself. It's so tempting as a parent to do things for the child. However, it is much better to allow them to work things out for themselves they actually learn so much more as a result, it can be frustrating though.
It turned out that two matches weren't enough, the wind was too strong and blew out both, I needn't have worried, Fen instantly drew his little survival tin from his pocket and pulled out another. He waited for a lul in the wind and struck lucky! I do love watching him and the way that he does things. The little boat putt putted perfectly, the smile was worth facing the elements for!

When outside working or with freedom to do as his will desires, Fen is a superstar and behaves brilliantly, he's also incredibly observant and creative with it. I just wish he had more positive male role models to imitate. A friend has suggested a local chap so I'm planning to follow up her lead in the next week or so.
As well as working on dealing with the local flooding, Fen also tried his hand at a spot of fishing. Not necessarily feeling the need to ask for his purpose made fishing pole (or retrieve it himself) he proceeded to make his own fishing rod. A little tap at the door alerted me to his presence and there he was with a jolly fine looking stick with a piece of cotton secured to one end and a leaf positioned 30 cm or so from the free end (that; it was explained, was the float (clever idea)). What he did in fact require at this point was not the pin he had in his survival kit which he informed me had a hole in it (I'm slightly embarrassed he didn't realise it was a needle!) and requested a pin with a silver head which he intended to bend into a hook and have me tie to the loose end of the cotton. Ten minutes later and my boy was fishing in the now bursting stream. I left him doing so for a while before reminding him that we haven't ever seen any fish in there!