cleansing

This week I decided to start a 30 day cleanse. I started on March 19th, so I'll be done on April 19th. I'm trying to watch what I eat, and I'm taking these herbal pills that help to move things like toxins out of my body. I was a bit wary, especially when I read "headaches, nausea, and diarrhea are quite common as the body gets rid of toxins." Oh great. But I'm committed. But there have been times, already, when I just want to pop something crappy into my mouth, and I long for April 19th to come soon.

We bought a house! A house that we thought was lost to another offer came back to us. We mourned the loss of the house for a good week, and I found it sad to mentally take all of our furniture (which I had placed so well) out of that house in my mind. But after a 2 week roller coaster ride of emotions we got it! I found out at the Winnipeg airport. We're very excited, and we move this July. And it has a hearth!

The fireplace reminds me of my childhood growing up in a gravel pit. I'm not going to change that last sentence, but I'll just clarify: I did not exactly grow up in a gravel pit, but there was one in my back yard, along with swamps and ponds and a maple bush with a sugar shack and fields and large gardens. My rock collection was quite extensive.

So I'm cleansing the house. Packing, sorting, getting rid of stuff. Labeling boxes, imagining our stuff in a new home. Imagining us in a new neighbourhood.

We're aiming to have our house on the market by - guess when - April 19th. I didn't plan for these cleanses to coincide like this, but I think it's really interesting that they did. And in this part of my life, I do not want April 19th to come too soon. We have a lot to do to get the house ready. But while I'm cleansing my insides, I'm cleansing the insides of our house, and hopefully doing some brain de-cluttering as well. I am mindful of what goes in, and although there may be some discomfort, unneeded stuff will come out. I hope.

leap day blackout and dream homes

I remember the thrill of the power going off in my childhood home. We lived on a farm in the country. Blackouts occurred during thunder or winter storms. I liked them best when they happened in the evening. Then the whole house fell silent, and Mom and Dad would get out the kerosene lanterns and candle sticks, and I would start imagining I was Laura in Little House on the Prairie. Going to bed by candlelight was especially thrilling.

So when the power went out today from 2:15pm until 6:15pm today, I knew my kids would love it. Zoe raced out of school, thrilled that the lights had been out for the last hour of school. I took the long way home to avoid the traffic lights, which were out too. The girls giggled all the way, planning the fun things they were going to do now that the power was out.

Why is there this thrill about having the power out?

It seems to make life, or our choices, more simple. It certainly limits them. Shegofa compared it to Afghanistan, where they have electricity in only the rich areas of the city. In other areas, they have power one day, then none the next.

But we depend on it for our food. Sure, for today we could eat sandwiches and things from our powered-off fridge, but heating things up? There's no appliance in our house that could do that - well, maybe the barbeque. And heat? Our gas fireplace in the basement would still work, but that's it.

The winter stew I had planned for supper would have to wait for another evening. Tonight it would be take-out from a grocery store across town that still had power. The table was set with candles and an oil lantern. But just minutes before we sat down, the power came back on, and with it, the buzz of the fridge and the hum of the furnace and the warm air filling the room, and a feeling of warmth. We would not have to shiver under covers tonight.

But in how many homes in our world do they shiver every night? I'm so conscious of this right now. We're in the midst of house-hunting. This time feels much different than when we bought our first house 6 years ago. For this one, it feels like we're playing for keeps. Which puts the pressure on in a different way too. We've had two disappointments - one just this past Monday - where we've put in offers and they've fallen through. Because we're competitive, when someone ELSE gets the house, it seems even better than what we had initially thought. Then we REALLY want it. But I keep thinking of Shegofa's family in Afghanistan - where they have no heat at night, and their winter has been much worse than ours. Where they don't have electricity. Where they haven't ever shopped for their dream home, but just a home. So then I feel selfish for wanting a nicer home.

What does your dream home look like? Mine has a hearth, of course. And space to host others (which our present home seriously lacks). And some older elements. And some natural elements. And a maid.

And you?

the zen of dishwashing

I can't even believe I just wrote that. Normally, dishwashing is anything but zen for me. It's something I avoid doing, and do just because the mess is driving me crazy.

Other times, I get a bit cranky and even shove the dishes around a little bit loudly just to show what a great job I'm doing of caring for my family by doing all of their dishes.

But lately, I've almost enjoyed doing the dishes. Almost. There's been something very relaxing about it - warm hands in a sink full of bubbles, methodically washing the cups then silverware then plates then pots. There's been no slamming of dishes. There's been almost a routine - what, Rebecca? A routine? - of washing dishes that happens AFTER THE MEAL instead of the next morning. This is revolutionary in our household. [Mom: this is not your fault; it's mine. You taught me well. I know I'm SUPPOSED to do the dishes right after the meal. I'm just lazy and would rather read and write.]

It really is calming when I let it be. My feet are planted, my hands stuck in water, moving through the dishes as my mind wanders. And it can wander in a more peaceful way than when my body is wandering around the house trying to do too much.

I love the look of clean counters. And I've noticed that washing dishes can make my crappy moods go away. It's magic! Instead of going to bed feeling crappy because the dishes aren't done, I don't! Instead of waking up and feeling crappy because the dishes aren't done, I don't! It really is remarkable what wonderful feelings can come from a clean house. Many wise people have known this before me; I'm just a bit slow I guess.

I even have pretty, colourful rocks that are on the windowsill by the kitchen sink. So I can look at them and try to believe that I'm getting some kind of good energy from them. Spending $3.00 on these at the market seemed like a good investment in a cleaner kitchen. Whatever works, right?

Wishing you a weekend of zen dishwashing. :)

home sweet home

This wasp nest has been hanging in the tree in our front yard for the summer. It's only obvious in the fall when the leaves start leaving the tree. It's huge - a bit bigger than a basketball.

The really weird thing about this nest is that 2 years ago, wasps built a nest in this exact tree, in this exact spot. We cut off the branch that held that nest. Last year there was no nest. But this year - there it was again.

It must be a good spot. It reminded me of the kids' book: The Best Nest, where 2 birds go in search of their dream home, only to come back to the exact place that they started. These wasps have obviously found a place that they like - that's the perfect mix of warmth and protection - and they return.

We took this nest down yesterday because Eden wanted to have a good look at it. We opened it up and looked inside. It was amazing. There were different levels - kind of like an apartment building - incredibly intricately built.

And it made me think about having a place of our own that's the perfect mix of warmth and protection. Our house is fine, but we dream of something else. Something that feels a little more permanent. But our criteria for this house feels so overwhelming sometimes that I don't even want to start looking. I would like a dreamy home (not a dream home - that feels like too huge of a task) where we all feel like returning to.

But then I think of our Afghan foster daughter - who moved so many times even within Kabul that she can't quite remember - and this feels selfish, this dreamy home dream. Why can't I be satisfied? Is this part of my more-more-more problem?

I grew up in the same house since I was 2 - the farm where my parents still live. I have a very permanent view of home. My husband moved around a lot, so he can look at a lot of options without feeling attached.

We moved here 5.5 years ago, and we kind of saw this as a 5 year house. But now it's hard to decide what's next. Living in community - ecovillage style - was something that has appealed to us, and we visited 2 ecovillages to spy out the possibilities. Being there, though, made us realize it might not be quite what we're after. A bit too intense and too many meetings. But the community part of it was appealing. And then there's the urban/suburban/country question. Where is the best nest for our family?

I wish I could be like the wasps. Happy with a sun-drenched branch on a quiet street.

just 5 minutes

For all of you who are self-disciplined and have no problems getting to the mundane chores of the day, this won't be helpful. I applaud you, and wish I was more like you.

But if you have ever had trouble doing household tasks because there are always just so many more appealing things to do, I'll pass on a little trick I sometimes use.

I trick my mind into doing many tasks by saying, "Just 5 minutes. Just 5 minutes."

And it works! Because 5 minutes doesn't sound so bad for a lot of things.

Yesterday this was my list of "just 5 minutes" projects:

1. cleaning toilets

2. dumping out a huge Rubbermaid container of cards, letters, momentos, bills, clipped out magazine articles, travel brochures (some from 20 years ago), ticket stubs, etc... and actually SORTING THE WHOLE THING! This was a task I was putting off for about 20 years, so it was high time. I dumped out the entire container onto the bed, then sorted for "5 minutes" (3 hours). Fun times in memory lane.

[some of the treasures that I found are pictured here: a water bottle wrapper from Pondicherry, India (1995), ticket stub from the first "big show" I went to (The Lion King, 2001), bookmark from India (1995), a Chiclets package from Morocco (1992), a ticket stub from a Toronto Maple Leafs game (1994), a letter sent to me in the hospital in Indonesia (1995), airline tickets to Calcutta (1995), ticket stub from an amazing concert in Havana, Cuba (2002), a business card from a remote restaurant in the mountains near Fez, Morocco (1992), a ticket stub from the Great Hall of the People, China (1998)]

3. dusting

4. the dishes

5. vacuuming

6. playing Playmobil (isn't this bad? That I can't get down on the floor with my kid without thinking "ok - just 5 minutes"? The 5 minutes turned into 25 before I even knew it. Lesson learned. Just let go of that feeling like I have to get things done and play. Because this too shall pass too soon.)

So there you go. Your inspirational household task tip of the day.