Mother Nature's Tax

My neighbor had warned me a few days ago that the fox was on the prowl. She said it had eaten all  but one of her chickens. "I had gotten lazy," she had told me. "We have a secure hen house, I just didn't lock them up that night. I guess I forgot."
I took it as a warning and locked up my coop. But only for that first night, when the warning was fresh in my mind. We had gotten lazy too.
Last night, the fox, visited the chicken coop. This morning I woke before dawn. I think the barking dog brought me out of my dream. Then I heard the sound of a chicken bawking in dismay. I bounded out of bed and rushed outside barefoot in my tank top and pajama pants. I found only two chickens in our hen house. I looked around the yard... there were feathers everywhere!
I heard bawking and followed the sound. In the moonlight I saw something slip away and then noticed a chicken. It was one of our little red hens inside the garden fence. Perhaps it had struggled and flown inside. At that point maybe the fox figured digging under the fence was too much work. He too had become lazy. I picked up the terrified hen. She seemed in tact, missing a few feathers perhaps.
I put her back into the safety of the hen house. Only three chickens left!
I realized then that my bare feet were so cold! In fact, that I could feel ice on the frosty ground. I ran back inside.
Soon I heard noises again from the hen house and I let the dog back outside. The dog barked for an hour and kept the animal away.
At dawn I went out to survey the damage. I intended to tell my son exactly what had happened to the chickens but I did not want him to see a mangled half dead bird or torn apart chicken carcass. I figured he was a little young and sensitive for that just yet.
To my surprise, when I stepped outside, three more chickens greeted me. Apparently they had retreated to the trees and survived the night!
Miraculously only one chicken had been eaten, Rosie, the cream colored one with a speckled head.



RIP Rosie

Reflecting upon the "fox attack" I feel fortunate that we only lost one hen. I feel responsible for not protecting her better but I learned a valuable lesson. The hen house will be closed up every night from now on; the fox can be sure of that.
But I also keep thinking of the fox. I heard her last year, calling for her mate in springtime. She may be pregnant right now and trying to fatten up her unborn pups. I imagine her sneeking into our yard one black socked feet. I see the glimmer in her eyes and the delight in her pounce when she knows she will eat well tonight. She is not greedy. She takes just one.
It is Mother Nature's tax. We all must pay our dues. I would rather pay Mother Nature than the government. I would rather feed the fox than fund the war. So, on this eve of tax day deadline, I will  pay Mother Nature her tax. It is a sacrifice I am willing to make. But until another year, the chickens we stay locked up tight at night.

More Good News!

As I wrote in my last post, I have been making a push to get published. I made a New Years resolution to get published and already I will see my work in print in only a little over a month!
Yesterday I recieved another email from a small journal called Full Circle Journal. They are going to be publishing a short story I wrote called Spaceship Earth in conjunction with an art sculpture my sister created. Though it is not a big deal, and kinda just fell into my lap because of my sister's art, I am feeling inspired! Is this the year my writing career is going to being moving forward?
With this in mind I am developing a webpage. It will be at roslyneaton.com. But right now it is still under construction, so stay tuned.
I am also taking my husband's name, eaton, at last. Not only do I want my family to be untied under one name, but I feel like Eaton is easier to spell and therefore a better name for a writer who wants to be found. Becoming Roslyn Eaton is a change of identity for me. I think it will be a positive one.
Do you have a website? Please share! I am interested to see how other personal artists create their webpages!

My Short Story will be Published!

     A short story I wrote entitle "Felling a Friend" has been accepted for publication in an anthology! The book will be a collection of short stories by women about nature. It is the first part of a series called WIN: Women in Nature. Because of the earth conscience material that makes up the stories, the publisher wants the paper that holds the stories to also be earth conscience. So it will be printed on eco-friendly wheat and straw paper. To get the printing wheels turning, the publisher has started a kickstart fund. If you pledge just $10 you will get an e-book, if you pledge $20 you will receive a copy of this book, and for $30 you get two copies of the book! So basically it is like buying the book in advance. The book will be printed in spring and is estimated to be shipped out to costumers in June. If you would like to see some of my writing in print and order a copy of the book in advance, click on the link below. And Thank You!!!
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/948518643/win-women-in-nature

The Moment

Yesterday I devoted the day to my kids. I turned off my phone and even left the camera behind, (because all those pictures are really for me, not of my boys.) I did not bring along my journal or even my purse. We went to the river with a picnic and met a friend with kids the same age as my own.
The sun was shimmering on the water. "It looks like snow," the children said.
The sunlight was reflecting on the blades of grass. "It looks like ice," I said.
We sat beside the Buffalo River on a moss topped cliff overlooking the water. We hiked a trail that followed the river. It stayed close to the cliff that rose high above the water and meandered through naked trees, evergreen groves, thickets of river cane, and moss covered rocks. We found a stream where the children could explore tiny waterfalls, swirling pools, and icy caves that were still untouched by the warm winter sun.
Yes it was a perfect day. But it is all so fleeting! The children were growing right before my eyes. The day was so short, the sun so brief. I had missed so much already while stressing out and being overly ambitious. On the drive home I remembered my last blog post, "How do you do it?" and suddenly felt ashamed. This morning I got up to erase it. Embarrassed with my rash, stressed out, over zealous outlook in the past few days.
But I have decided to keep the post. Because we are not perfect. So often we write about our successes. We post pictures on facebook that show us in all of our beauty. And we see each other in this light. But it is healthy to see that people have boring days, bad days, faults, and moments of weakness. It is good for us to not only write on our good days and not only write about the good times, but to also express our fears and faults. So my last post was me in a moment of overwhelming weakness. My fault is evident, I am too ambitious and forgetting to be in the moment! Today I feel strong and focused upon the beauty of the moment. Today I will just enjoy the day with my children while we will do nothing special and get very little done!

How do you do it?

     A fellow writer and mother recently asked me, "How do you do it all?"
     All I could do was cry out, "But I don't do it all!"
     Oh yes, I try so very hard, and in some ways (sure) I succeed, but lately I feel like I am failing...
     Once I had a goal to write on this blog every week. I never managed to do that, even in the beginning. So my goal became to write every other week... Now I am content to maintain a monthly post.
     I started a new blog called A Simple Natural Home. I had hoped to fill it full of recipes for soaps and healthy muffins, cloth diapering tips and gardening advice. Today the blog contains only a few pages of material.
     Almost five years ago I started writing a historical fiction novel. People have praised me when I tell them that I am on page 78 of my first draft. But I just want to cry because it took me five years to push that out! And now I have another baby. And now my older son is having problems with authority. Will it take ten, maybe twenty, to complete?
     I was so determined to have a winter garden this year. But we got a foot of snow and it sat around for a week killing my broccoli plants. The plants I sat hunched over in autumn picking tiny caterpillars off of. I still have fruit trees to prune, a chicken coop to clean, and a fence to build. But I can't dig my way out of the dishes and laundry.
     The baby is constantly pooping again. Or chewing and trying to choke on some random scrap of paper he found on the floor. The older child is constantly climbing onto the desk to turn the TV screen on so he can watch Felix the Cat on Netflix. Or melting down because I said, "Not right now."
     I pour my all into my children. I am the mom who reads to their kids, who listens to their stories, and who plays as well as disciplines. I am constantly reading new about positive parenting and early childhood development. Embracing motherhood has become my art. It has replaced much of who I am as a person. And I know that is ok. In fact, I dare to say that is how it should be when you have young kids. Still, my children are so far from perfect. You would think I had it all figured out with all the research I have done, but they have behavior problems galore. We struggle.
      I set an alarm and woke up early this morning early. My intention was to get up and finish writing what I was too tried to write last night. But the baby was sleeping at my breast. I tried to get up so very carefully. I let him nurse until my milk let down again. It took three patient tries to get my breast out of his mouth without waking him. Then I eased him off and patted his back until he fell asleep again. Slowly I inched away from him, tucking the pre-warmed blankets around him to fill my void. I rose from the bed and stayed very still. Twice a resumed the lying position. Finally when I thought he was sound asleep a turned to the window and adjusted the blind so that the sun would not come streaming in and wake him. I did so silently. Nevertheless, when I turn back to my baby, his sleep eyes were open wide. I groaned. He smiled.
     How am I doing it all you ask?
     I am not doing it all! I am just trying very hard to juggle everything. Perhaps my problem is too much ambition. Maybe I need to kick back and relax more. So I try to take time to do nothing. Surely I would do better to do less.
      I truly hope that one day I will do better. Not more! But better!
     So... How do you do it? How do you do better?

New Year, New Ambition

Last year I was five months pregnant on New Years, so my only New Years resolution was to have a kid! And I did it. I became a mother again, a mother of two. I had the home birth of my dreams and my sweet baby boy is just perfect. Still, this year has kicked my ass! It is much harder than I had imagined to be a mother of two. Adding another child to my life complicated everything. This has been a selfless year.  I have focused on my boys. It hasn't been a bad year, just a trying one.
In the coming year I am going to focus on myself a little more. In July I will turn 30 and for some reason I feel like it will be a different decade for me. As the year unfolds I want to focus on things that make me happy, like writing and nature. I want to chisel out more time for sitting alone in the woods with a pen and paper. Even if it is just for a few minutes in the backyard.
I also plan to make a major push towards publication. If you like Owls' Knob as a blog, then you will love my book: Owls' Knob: Tales of an Ozark Mountain. I wrote it years ago, while I finished up college, about the time I started writing this blog. But it just sits and gathers dust. I get inspired occasionally and submit a chapter as a short story to some random magazine, but never with much luck. I need to try to get published harder. I have been working on a website and I will get it up and running soon. I feel like this might be the year I get my first breakthrough. I think it is time. I hope I am ready!
So, regular readers, if you know or come across a magazine or publishing company that might appreciate the type of nature writing I often feature on this blog, please send me information or comment here. Thank you!
Happy New Year!

It's in disguise

I want to share this little poem with you today during this winter weather, poem I wrote almost 20 years ago. This was written by a 10 year old Roslyn...

_It's in disguise

 

Falling like miniature crystals from the sky,

From way, way far up high,

A comforter over the ground,

Still without a sound.

Snow

Glistening in the sun,

Meaning tons of fun,

Like slipping and sliding,

Or make things when it's only gliding.

Snow

 

It is so freezing cold

To go in it without a coat you must be bold.

Even though it is white

It makes you red with frostbite.

Snow

But it has a secret deep down inside,

A secret it doesn’t really hide,

Deep down inside

It is water in disguise.

Snow

Picnics and Sledding

The last few days have been warm and sunny. I took the boys to the river and it was so warm that Zane put his toes in the water. Our shirts were short sleeved. We had a picnic and played outside all afternoon.

Then over night weather turned cold. They issued a severe weather warning and we were expecting ice, snow, and sleet. Before a single flake fell, all area schools closed. At first we had only ice, but the wind cut so harshly that we stayed inside most of the day, sipping hot chocolate. After dark the ice turned to fluffy white snow. We woke to a white blanket over the earth. I had to dig into closets and find snow boots, mittens, and hats.

Two days ago I was lying in the sun beside the river in a short sleeve shirt with my feet in the water. It was 70 and sunny.
Today we are sledding on a foot of snow when we are not hiding from the cold with hot chocolate!
Tonight the low will be below 0 with a wind chill!
What a drastic shift!  How quickly the weather turns




This picture of a blue jay was taken by Lisa Parker

What is there weather doing where you are?

Art and Parenting

The birth of a child is not only the creation of new life; it is also the transformation of a woman into a mother. Eventually it is also the transformation of a man into a father, however, that transformation happens more slowly over time. A parent is someone you become. You are forever changed. In this loss of self-identity, there is morning, no matter how much you enjoy being a mother. Furthermore, parenting is the hardest job you will ever encounter. It is fuller than any full-time job, more demanding than any career, and there is more at stake than in the riskiest stunt.

As an artist, a writer, my biggest loss is that of my art. There is no time for a mother, especially a mother of little ones, to dive head first into art and float on inspiration for a day. All I can do is grab fractions of time here and there, between snotty noses and dirty diapers, and there is not much chance for inspiration in those fleeting moments. When the day comes to an end and the children are asleep, I often have a little time. In my exhaustion, there is little inspiration. Every mother who was once a writer or a painter, a weaver or a gardener, a dancer or a musician misses the woman who could wait for inspiration to come and then seize that beauty and bask in it for as long as it lasted.  

Nevertheless, you must grab all the inspiration you can find and steal every moment you can get. Do not forget to do what you love. Never abandon your art. Your children should see you being yourself and expressing yourself. It may seem there is no time, but really there is. It will not be easy to find, but it is there. Sure, the dishes and laundry might pile up, but you will have to make that sacrifice. In the end you will not look back and regret neglecting your chores, and neither will your kids. On the contrary, the art you accomplish will make you happier, which will reflect positively on your parenting and therefore on your children.

When you are swimming in dishes and laundry it is easy to forget that everything you are doing is important. But the tone of your voice, the expression on your face, and the way you go about your daily duties is teaching your children and influencing who they will become. You don't have to be sitting on the floor playing blocks, engaging, for the art of parenting to be taking place. Everything you do becomes art once you are parenting. Unlike any other art, parenting never stops. The art of parenting is in everything you do and everything you are in every moment you are with your children.  

There is an art to good parenting, but no one knows how to do it. Like artistic beauty, good parenting is in the eye of the beholder. No one should judge art any more than they should judge parenting methods. But no matter the parents’ methods, the creation of an amazing human is the most beautiful work of art on earth. A well rounded young person with a kind heart, nimble mind, and strong body is a reward beyond the wildest artist’s dreams.

So next time you are inspired but you have no time, or you have time but not an ounce of inspiration, just remember that those little ones ARE your art. Now that you are a parent, there is nothing more important, no greater art!

 

Raising Caterpillars

    

     Apparently I have been raising caterpillars. I left my cabbage and broccoli plants alone after their initial harvest. Over the course of the summer, a healthy population of caterpillars, probably of the cabbage white butterfly, thrived by eating the brassica leaves. I felt silly watching the leaves become dotted with swiss cheese hole and ridiculous by the time I realized they had eaten leaves down to the skeletal veins. I didn't really mean to breed insects that will eventually raid the rest of my garden. But it is hard to find time (and the heart) to kill all those caterpillars. Especially when you don't use pesticides. So I just let them be.
     Yesterday, I found a wonderful new use for my garden pests... chicken food. Bugs make chicken eggs taste great! I began collecting them in my hand while the baby slept and kids played nearby. I routinely watch children for my friends, and this was a day when the house was full. One of the little boys I was watching followed me into the garden and asked what I was doing. I explained I was taking caterpillars off the cabbage plant they were eating and I was going to feed them to the chickens. The little boy seemed very amused by the caterpillars. He gathered a few with me. Then he decided he could not bare to sacrifice his little friends. So he plucked a cabbage leaf and made his little caterpillar friends a home. For the an hour he carried caterpillars around the yard. Periodically he would say he lost one, and more than once we found it up his sleeve. Eventually he lost all of them, but I think he enjoyed their company.
     As for my caterpillars, the chickens said they tasted amazing and they would be happy to help me out any time I don't know what to do with all the pests in my garden. It is a delightful circle... the caterpillars that were eating my garden vegetables are fed to chickens who in turn create a delicious food. I think I am really going to love having chickens!

Backyard Chickens

    
      When I lived out at Owls' Knob full time, I dreamed about having chickens. But keeping chickens in the wilderness is very difficult. For one thing, mammals come from miles around to eat your birds and snakes gather to feast upon the eggs. But even with an impenetrable chicken coop, there is the issue of constant care. It is hard to make sure that you are home every night by dusk to put the hens up when you live 60 miles from anywhere. Without neighbors it is impossible to ask someone to drop by your house and help since it is not on the way to anywhere. However, in town the wildlife is not as desperate or plentiful. It is also easier to be home at dusk and I have quite a few neighbors who would be happy to drop by and put up the hens in exchange for some eggs.
     So yesterday we got chickens. Last week John built a chicken tractor. It has an extremely well fortified chicken hutch above and a large scratching pen below. He made it out of pallet wood and wood from an old falling down shed. Though it was built on a budget out of scratch, it turned out to be a very nice and strong home.
     Yesterday the sun was shinning and the light breeze was warm. It was a perfect day for a trip to my uncle's farm. We walked out into the pasture to visit the lambs, sheep, cows, and honey bees. On the way back we ate ripe persimmons. Then we had a picnic and Zane helped his aunt feed the Koi fish. Finally I walked down to the chicken house and picked out four beautiful hens. We packed up the hens in some feed sacks and brought them home to their new coop.
     Since we got them home, we have been trying to make them as comfortable as possible. I fed them plenty of chickweed, barley, and corn. John and I took turns coaxing them up and down the ramp that led them in and out of their cozy nesting boxes. The hens were hesitant at first and we found that the ramp needed better traction, so John nailed stairs steps to it. When the sun started sinking low the hens all found their way into their nesting boxes.
     Today, when we put up the hens, we found the first egg. I had not expected for the hens to lay so quickly after such a traumatic relocation. But low and behold, they have already begun to settle into their new home and lay eggs. To celebrate the first egg, we ate omelets as a bedtime snack.
     I am excited to have hens. Watching them roost, scratch, and peck is entertaining. More importantly I love farm fresh eggs. The garden and now the chickens brings our family one step closer towards being sustainable. It is a step towards a lifestyle that I have always wanted to live. A sustainable life. I want to teach my boys where food comes from and how to feed yourself. What lesson could be more valuable?

Country Boy

      A few weeks ago, we went to Owls' Knob for the first time in months. My husband had gone out the weekend before to knock back the initial cobwebs and work on getting the lights and water working. It is a constant battle to maintain a house in the woods. Nature is always trying to reclaim the homesteads that speckle its wilderness.
    Personally, I have been reclaiming and establishing my own values, trying to find balance and peace in my life. I live on a street inside city limits now. We have a big back yard and an abandoned wooded lot beside our house and lots of parks to explore; nevertheless, we are NOT living in the country. And my boys are NOT being raised as "country boys." This bothers me.
     I admire country boys. I married a country boy. The simplicity, community, and the closeness to the earth of country folk is to be envied. However, the city contains a wide world of conveniences, distractions, and opportunities. The city has a lot to offer in its culture, activities, and open minded acceptance. So I straddle my life between the city and the country. Internally I battle, heart against mind, over where we should live and how we should raise these boys. I have not figured it out yet and if you get it all figured out, please share!


That look in his eyes... wonder, reverence?

     Regardless, one virtue stands true. I want my boys to love nature. I do not care if they grow up to live in New York City or in the wilderness of the Ozarks. If they grow up to be rich or poor, gay or straight, ambitious or relaxed, I will be proud of them just the same. But I want them to have reverence for the earth with the same passion that a Christian wants her boys to know Jesus. The earth is our home, our mother, and if my boys do not respect her, I have failed.
     So you might be thinking why on earth we do not live in the country, close to the earth, if this is so important? Well, I do not believe that would necessarily bring forth the desired love I am seeking. A hard life struggling, alone, in the middle of no where is not always fun for a child. If my boys have a hard childhood, like so many country folks do, they might run away and never look back. I've seen it before. Therefore, I continue to cautiously juggle this balance between nature and convenience. Because we are living in a world of technology, progression, and luxury. If I deprive my boys of such temptations they will only make them want it more.   

I see love in that smile.

     This past weekend my boy, Zane, made me proud. He got dirty, he tromped through the weeds, and the peed on a tree. We went on hikes, tracked animals, and discovered both beauty and freaking awesomeness! But most importantly, Zane befriended a millipede. His grandfather found it and brought it to him. My four year old son carried the arthropod around for an hour. He let it walk from one hand to the other. His gentleness was remarkable. I could tell that he truly cared for his little friend.
     Now before you cringe and scream gross, understand that the triumph here. I read a quote by Bradley Millar once, "Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar." There is an important lesson in the quote. Now I must admit, caterpillars can devastate a garden and I have been know to slaughter them. However, the common caterpillar is to be admired because it will become a beautiful butterfly and I have tried to teach Zane not to step on bug. I also have tried to teach him to not stomp on beetles (even if they crunch satisfyingly) or spiders (but of course never touch a spider either). Many boys have a warrior instinct and a desire to protect at an early age. In tribes of our primal ancestors, boys (and girls too) hunted and therefore killed. I think for most boys, it is totally natural for them to want to stomp on insects. (I am not trying to get in an argument about gender roles here and I recognize that the stereotype does not hold true for everyone by any means. I'm just trying to say it is natural for them to do this. It is not an example of violent behavior.) So since Zane was very little I have been teaching him to be gentle and kind to all of earth creatures, even if they are a little creepy!
     After a while, Zane wanted to make sure that the millipede went home to be with his or her "mommy and daddy." So we searched for a proper place for the millipede to live. A simple pile of leaves or log would not do, even when I told him that was the creature's preferred home. My son wanted his little friend to have a special place.


He is trying to count the legs!

     First we found, as my son called it, a nest. It was a beautiful rock that sat on the border of the iris garden. I was a rock my mother had collected from a river bed and it had a deep indention in it. The indention was full of rich dirt, luscious moss, and crystals. We put the millipede in this little home and Zane proceeded to make a roof even though I told him that the little guy didn't need or want a roof. When the millipede walked out of the designated home three times, Zane decided that it was not good enough and we would have to look further.
     We finally found our way to the other side of the yard where a huge oak tree had once stood. I had spend my childhood swinging from a swing that had hung from that old oak tree. But the tree had died and because it dared to fall on the house, we had cut it down. We cut the trunk into boards that we intend to use for Zane's bedroom and the stump was turned into a thrown. Zane sat and stood on the thrown with this millipede for a long time. At one point he was hugging and kissing the arthropod with great affection. I told him that was weird. He didn't seemed to care. So I ignored his behavior, knowing that making light of it would only make his act more extravagant.
     Soon after I walked away, Zane came up to me holding out his hands. "Nothing is in my hands," he explained.
     "Where is your millipede?" I asked
He pointed to the thrown. "Over there." His voice sounded worried. Like the millipede had scurried off and left him alone.
"Oh that is a perfect home for your little friend! It has lots of rich dirt, decomposing leaves, and some good chunks of wood to hide under. Tell him goodbye and you might get to see him again. He will be your neighbor." It took some convincing but eventually Zane accepted the millipede's new home.
     It wasn't that I wanted my boys to grow up to love millipedes particularly. I don't absolutely adore them, but if I was to choose a creature it is a heck of a lot better than a spider, right? It is slower than most animals so it was easy to catch and its hard shell let me relax and know that if Zane's gentleness slipped up the animal would survive. No, it was not about the millipede at all. The millipede was simply an embodiment of the earth. It personified nature and put the Ozark wilderness into the palm of my son's hand. I beam with pride knowing that my son cared for much for it. I just hope he always keeps such reverence for all of nature close to his heart. 

Zane is hugging the millipede,
 while sitting on the back of the thrown