Hestia Homeschool for Young Wild Women

The Mother's search for Enlightenment (Via diapers and nursing?)

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 01:50:41 GMT

Since we moved to the country I have never felt closer to the Earth, more connected to Nature and the Great Mystery of Life.

But all the great religious traditions seem to ignore the demands Motherhood puts on a mother. Is that why most of the great mystical leaders are childless men, or men that have someone else standing behind them, cleaning and cooking and making their lives smoother?

I have been puzzling over this a great deal the past week. A few days ago I was nursing one child, watching another one riding a new horse that was acting up, and listening with one ear to two more of the kids in the barn behind me trying to get hay up in the hay loft. Plus, my husband kept calling from the house wanting to know where various things were while he was getting ready, and a cat was twining around my legs as I sat in the chair and nursed.

I wondered if I was being mindful, and then I wondered if THINKING about being mindful means you are not being mindful. (Laughing)

I have four children, a husband, six cats, a dog, five hedgehogs, a rat, a mealworm colony, hissing coachroaches, a marine aquarium, a guinea pig, seven chickens, another aquarium, two goldfish in a bowl, five horses and three goats and a lamb that all depend on me.

Later on, I watched a wonderful show on PBS that showed Bishop Tutu and the Dalai Lama together, talking and being very playful and cute (they would obviously be on any Jedi High council I put together) and I realized that while they were both very old and wise, they also did not have a house full of small children tugging at their consciousness at all moments...and neither did the Shaolin monks who spent hours developing their remarkable skills. Even O'sensei, who created Aikido, had servants, deshi, and a wife to take care of more mundane matters.

All of them had a lot of people doing their cleaning, cooking and caring for their homes, so they were free to reach enlightenment. :-) Not to take anything away from them, but I am coming to realize that the path I have chosen for this lifetime is not one that is going to present me with a lot of time alone to meditate and study. I quit training seriously in Aikido when it became apparent I could either pursue a black belt and train several nights a week, or I could parent my children the way they deserved and be the wife my husband needed. We have 28 black belts at out dojo, and not one of them is a woman with small children. Only one is a woman with any children at all, and her child is full grown.

I also have come to believe that for a breastfeeding mother who is also intensely attached to her other children that I am virtually SWIMMING in the living force at all times. There is nothing more alive than holding a child to your breast and giving it life through your milk. When I do have a rare moment alone to reach out to the Light, I think it is probably more of the Unifying Force I feel, since I feel the Living around me at all times. I have children, a husband of twenty-eight years, and animals all touching my mind at all times.

Perhaps Margaret Mead was correct when she talked about how women's creative and philosophical needs were met primarily through their child bearing experiences. Birth control has changed this, of course, but I think that my training as a spiritual person will necessarily be very different from a single man. I do know that among the traditional Cherokee, young teen girls could be warriors, but after they had children they stayed home and raised them. I think that my patience is a direct result of the children. Even Yoda would want to run and hide at times in my house!

Tags: Jedi, Bishop Tutu, enlightenment, homeschooling, motherhood

where is the bucolic life?

Thu, 29 May 2008 20:39:11 GMT

I am ready for life in the country to become peaceful and non-eventful and bucolic. In fact, just our usual level of chaos would be welcome if I just felt better.

Shelby and I came home from Regionals with a truly horrific virus, complete with rash, fever, green snot, and stuff pouring out of all available orifices. It is NOT a good time. Tabby did not get it and is staying at her grandmother's house.

My promised milk goat arrived in the middle of this, and I dragged myself out to the barn to milk her. I had managed to coax her up on the very fine wooden milking stand my dear husband had built for me when Shelby announced that Ladies Are Here.

The Bookmobile had arrived. In my illness, I had forgotten. Shelby was wearing two different shoes, different socks, and her hair had not been brushed in two days. I looked just peachy keen with my own ensemble.

We did get our books (I stayed outside most of the time to avoid spreading pestilence and disease), and enjoyed our neighbors, who arrived to check out books.

Unfortunately, tragedy then struck. Their dog cornered one of our farm cats under the porch and was shaking it. Their other dog joined in, and then Delilah even had attacked the poor thing. The mothers were all screaming and running at the dogs, I got the poor little Dwarf away from them. He sunk his teeth very deeply into my left index finger and then my breast. The other mom was badly scratched as well.

When we got Dwarf inside, it became apparent that he was not going to survive. He was bleeding from both his rectum and his eyes and his back was broken. The vet is almost thirty or forty minutes away. They took him home and shot him for us, since I could not stand to have him suffer any more.

It has been quite a sharp learning curve here in the country.

That night my hand swelled up to truly alarming proportions. I called my doctor, who wanted me to go the the ER, but I was too sick to drive and Dave was already at work. Fortunately, we had Keflex in the house and two days later it is beginning to shrink.

Of course, milking one handed and feverish is not fun.

Then the new goats escaped and I had to spend a few feverish hours driving around before they were discovered a few miles away.

I drove home one handed, with two large dairy goats riding in the van. They like to stick their heads out of the windows like dogs do.

I need some sleep!

Tags: milk goats, dog killing cat, bookmobile

Tabitha wins the Gold at Regionals!

Fri, 23 May 2008 05:25:43 GMT

Last week I bundled the younger girls up in the van and ventured out into the great unknown, guided by the stern and bossy voice of our GPS. (Mandy, after hearing it chide me for missing a turn, named the GPS "Phyllis" after a bossy person we know.)

We were on our way to Chicago for the Region IV Power Tumbling and Trampoline meet. Region IV is made up of

Illinois - Indiana - Iowa - Kentucky - Michigan - Minnesota - Missouri

North Dakota - Ohio - South Dakota - Wisconsin

Tabby won the Level Six Tumbling Gold and the Bronze for Trampoline. She also had the highest initial score in her first flight on the Double Mini, but messed up on her second flight and placed fourth. The grace and poise she demonstrated to me for not metalling for the first time ever almost meant more to me than her winning the gold. She really is a good kid. :-)

We had many adventures on the way there. At one rest stop we met a man who had a cute little Pomeranian dog. He was looking embarrassed as he waited for it to poop. He said, "I am waiting for him to make a mess. Then I will clean it up." I chuckled and told him that I am both a mother and a farmer. I clean up a lot of poop. When his wife came out, we talked about the puppy. The puppy was so cute, and it loved the girls. They wanted to give him to us! I was able to reassure them that he was just a baby and would outgrow his baby antics in no time, but gave them my phone number in case they ever needed to find a home for him. They were from Maine and had the cutest accents (although I think they thought our soft Kentucky hick accents were funny, too.

"Aye-yuh" means "yes" I think.

We also met a SWAT policeman who was walking into the hotel we were staying at while we were scampering out to the meet. He looked at my Star Wars "I've gone over to the Dork Side" t-shirt and scolded me mildly. "That shirt is sacriligeous. " Both Tabby and Shelby told him indignantly that their mother is a REAL Jedi and that she is also funny. He grinned at me and pulled up his shirt sleeve and he had a Jedi tattoo. So, there are lots of us Guardians of Peace and Justice in the Universe, after all.

Tags: Jedi, Tumbling and Trampoline

cow placentas, speeding tickets and snapping turtles: The adventures of the Hillbilly Jedi

Tue, 06 May 2008 03:38:10 GMT

The Hillbilly Jedi glances over at her padawan Mark doubtfully. "Are you sure the GPS says this is the right road?"

Padawan Mark, his trust in technology absolute, nods. "Turn here." He shows her the GPS. "It's a shortcut to the highway." The Jedi smiles tenderly at the fourteen year old. He is a Good Kid.

The Hillbilly Jedi turns onto a dirt road and continues maneuvering through ruts and over large bumps that rattle the muffler of the mini van. Eventually the road dead ends into an Amish farmyard. The shy Amish peek out of their barn at the embarrassed Jedi, who is backing her van up and turning around. She almost backs into a pig sty. The van requires more room to turn around than a horse and cart does.

She does not have the emotional courage to tell the Amish that a GPS has directed her to their farm. The irony of this amuses her. Even Jedi can be embarrassed. She decides that she can release her embarrassment into the Force later.

The Amish continue to peek at her. An entire row of straw hats are lined up at the barn door. A beardless young Amish teen bravely ventures out of the barn and asks her if she needs help. She rolls down the passenger window (her window was broken by the Padawans) and asks for directions After receiving complicated directions she did not understand, she gratefully flees.

The Padawan from Hell chortles in the back seat. "That was SO funny. You almost got stuck in that huge manure pile." The Hillbilly Jedi wonders again if this particular padawan is turning to the Dark Side. Surely it is unseemly to take such delight in her Master's predicament.

The Jedi Knight regales the teenagers with pithy statements of the wisdom of not over relying on technology.

A few miles down the road the younglings in the van squeal. A precious newborn calf is tangled up in rusty barbed wire. The mother cow is nearby, the placenta still hanging from her. The mother and calf are on opposite sides of the barbed wire fence.

As a Guardian of Peace and Justice and the Helpless, the Hillbilly Jedi leaps out of her minivan and trudges through the mud and muck to rescue the hapless calf. It is much larger than she can pick up, and she drags it out of the barbed wire and tries to consider how to pass it under the strands of wire to its mother, who is lowing pitifully at her. The Padawan from Hell and the Youngling climb into the field with her, although not up to their knees in the smelly mud. They offer encouragement to the Jedi, who is now wrestling with the calf. It is determined to get retangled up in the barbed wire loops.

The Hillbilly Jedi is wearing white pants. She is soon covered with mud and cow placenta.

Padawan Mark, while a stalwart and brave lad, has been raised in an urban environment and is afraid of large herbivores. He does not venture down into the field.

The calf is proving too heavy for the Hillbilly Jedi, who is still trying to pass it safely under the fence. The mother cow shakes her horns at her. The calf empties its bowels onto her leg and leather boots.

A pickup truck pulls up alongside the minivan. A man climbs out and looks at the Hillbilly Jedi, who is kneeling and holding a muddy calf in her arms. The Jedi asks him for help. The man points out helpfully, "That there cow has horns."

The Jedi fixes him with a stern stare. "I need to pass this calf under the fence. Can you lift the wire up for me?"

The man spits his chewing tobacco out and looks at her. "That old cow might git you with them horns."

"She is on the other side of the fence."

While the spirited debate continues, the Jedi bravely manages to shove the calf under the fence, but not without badly scratching her arm on the barbed wire. She is glad she has had inoculations for tetanus recently.

She sighs and climbs back into the van, covered with cow manure, mud, and cow placenta.

They continue down the road, where they encounter a very large snapping turtle migrating. He is in the middle of the road.

Once again, the Jedi leap from their vehicle to rescue this large, aggressive creature. While maneuvering the hissing biting turtle--which weighs about thirty pounds--into a laundry basket that has been sitting in the van for days, another helpful citizen offers to take the turtle off their hands. After all, "Them turtles are good eatin'. "

The Hillbilly Jedi is secretly appalled at the idea of eating an animal that is probably thirty years old, and she declines the offer. The turtle is an Elder. They release the turtle at a river. The Hillbilly Jedi seizes the moment to present a lecture on the Living Force to the younglings. They are, of course, spellbound and respectful of her insight into the Force. (Not.)

Finally arriving at their destination--a dairy goat farm--the Hillbilly Jedi is surprised to find the farmer is not waiting forher. She calls him on her cell phone for the third time that day, and he says that he thought she knew he did not get off work until about four hours later. She can, however, look at the dairy goats.

The Jedi carefully considers which dairy goat will be the best for her family when suddenly a hellish racket starts. Her loyal and faithful Greyhound has somehow exited the van and has been attacked by a Sith dog, who has the delicate hound by the throat. Looking unsuccessfully around for something to use as a weapon, the Jedi charges barehanded into battle and rescues her hound, only to find the dog's neck pouring blood.

The Sith dog cowardly slinks beneath its porch.

The Jedi sinks to the ground and pushes on the wound, praying to the Force that this Good and Noble Dog will not bleed to death there in her arms. The Jedi tells the crying Padawans to find something to wrap around the dog's neck, and just before she is about to have to tear off her shirt they find her tan cloak in the van and bring it to her. She binds the Greyhound's neck, stops the bleeding, and carries her to the van, when suddenly the Youngling shrieks. She has backed into the electric fence.

Now covered with mud, goat manure, cow manure, cow placenta and dog blood, the Jedi comforts the Youngling and lets her--for the second time in her life--ride in the back seat with the injured dog. She is not in her car seat.

It starts to rain. Hard.

The Hillbilly Jedi really, really wants to get home, so she is speeding along when she sees blue lights in the back window,

The Force really is not with her today, she decides.

The Hillbilly Jedi waits for the policeman to come up to her window. He is taking a long time about it. Finally, as he walks up to the van, she opens her van door. He leaps back and yells forcefully, "Stay in the vehicle, ma.am!"

Speaking soothingly to the officer, who looks about as wild eyed as the mother cow did, she tells him that she is staying in the van, but that her window is broken and she cannot roll it down to talk to him. He does not seem to understand, so she (ridiculously, she thinks later) offers to climb over to the passenger side and roll down THAT window.

The Padawans in the back seat are taking an unseemly amount of amusement at this situation. The Hillbilly Jedi does not find it funny. The Wee Youngling should probably be in her car seat, and she is having trouble finding her proof of insurance. She wishes she had the ability to use the Jedi Mind Trick on the Officer.

While the Jedi is wondering if the Police Officer will ask her why she is covered with blood, she is busy dragging out her driver's license. She admits she was not being Mindful and does not have the slightest idea of how fast she was going over the speed limit. She remains at all times polite and kind and well mannered. She was speeding, after all, and she got caught. Adults take responsibility for their actions. She does not offer explanations.

The Padawan from Hell snorts from the back seat as the police officer writes up the ticket that the Jedi Knight is too polite and nice.

Yet another time that day the Jedi wonders if this padawan is moving to the Dark Side.

Driving away with a hefty one hundred and sixty dollar fine, the Jedi sadly reflects that the fine will keep her from buying the dairy goat, and she wishes she had just stayed home.

Mysterious are the ways of the Force.

The Hillbilly Jedi is glad she does not have to face her own version of the Jedi Council, who is her husband. He will not be happy about the speeding ticket. She knows she has not provided a Good Example for the young ones. She really wants to cry, but she is too tired.

Arriving home, she binds the dog's neck, feeds the horses, sheep, goats, hedgehogs, rats, squirrel and pigs and mucks out the stalls, cooks a meal for the younglings, gets the youngest in the tub and puts them to bed.

She starts to gratefully relax into her Tai Chi form when the littlest youngling reappears and hangs on her leg.

"I need to talk to you about sumpin' important, " the five year old announces.

The Hillbilly Jedi opens her eyes wearily and looks at the youngling, "Yes?"

"How do birds mate? They don't have penises or vaginas. How do they do it?"

The Hillbilly Jedi explains bird anatomy to the youngling while tucking her back into bed. She stays until the little one is sound asleep, and then crawls into the bath tub to wash off the accumulated grime of the day. The Jedi turns off the light, so she can float in the bathtub and commune with the Force while washing her hair.

The Padawn from Hell comes into the bathroom and turns on the light. She is crying.

The Jedi sits up from her bath, and asks what is wrong. It seems the PFH has killed an ant in the kitchen, and she had to squash it twice to make it die, and she feels bad. The Jedi reflects that this particular child cannot be lost to the Dark Side if she can grieve over the death of an ant, and while is she happy that this child is not a Sith she still wishes she could bathe alone.

While other Jedi may be out saving the galaxy, this Jedi is not sure what she has accomplished on this very full day. She is too tired to meditate, and she collapses in bed.

A child crawls into bed with her. About an hour later, the goat kid the child had carried into bed along with her urinates on the Jedi, who reflects that Patience is surely a virtue, and she strips the bed, washes herself off yet again, and tucks the youngling and her goat into a corner with blankets.

It is now in the wee hours of the morning, and the Hillbilly Jedi reflects upon her place in the universe. The Ways of the Force are indeed mysterious.

Tags: Jedi. Sith. cows, snapping turtles, speeding tickets, younglings, padawans

Tabby wins three State Championships!

Fri, 02 May 2008 11:57:11 GMT

On Sunday, Tabitha won the gold metal in all three of her gymnastics events at the Kentucky State Championships. She is now the KY State Champion in Power Tumbling, in Trampoline, and on the Double-mini Trampoline. She also qualified for the national championships in Kansas City.

Since she just joined the team in September, we are proud of her and quietly flabbergasted. I feel rather like a chicken who hatched out a dragon.

She has shown a becoming amount of modesty, and hasn't told her friends, although it has been four days.

I am so proud of her. She trains so intensely and with such focus. She doesn't get upset before she competes, but does get mad at herself if she doesn't do perfectly...when I watch her flying across the mat, it is hard to believe this is the same baby who did somersaults in my womb.

My beautiful girl.

Tags: trampoline and tumbling, T & T

Funeral for a Foal

Wed, 30 Apr 2008 21:14:06 GMT

Burying Snip Snip's stillborn foal was one of the saddest days in years. There were so many hopes and dreams wrapped up in that tiny filly, and to have our first baby horse be born dead seemed harsh and cruel to a family that has already lost so many babies.

Sometimes I wonder what God is thinking. I know that things just happen, but I get tired of them happening to our family. Then I remember how blessed I am, and sigh.

I do not know why she was born dead, or why my babies were lost. I hope that I will see them in heaven someday.

earthquake!

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 18:03:21 GMT

Last week had an earthquake...in Kentucky...it was really pretty cool! The horses started neighing about fifteen minutes before it. I heard them and went out to the barn to see what was wrong. (It was about five in the morning). The dogs started barking, too. They knew something was going to happen, or they felt it before I could. I always pay attention to what the animals are saying, so I was attentive. I never guessed an earthquake, though. I thought it might be a coyote or puma or a black bear, since we have a few around here.

Nothing was hurt. It was 5.2, they said. Where we are we just got tremors. We had a tornado in February, and a drought all last year, and then the worst blizzard in my lifetime this spring.

Mother Earth reminds us we cannot control everything.

The tornado was much more frightening, since over thirty people were killed and this county is still a Federal Disaster Zone. Still, I found the storm to be very exciting and beautiful in its own way, but I was anxious about my animals that could not get into the storm cellar. The trees were almost horizontal in the 100 mile winds.

The earthquake was more a WTF is going on here sort of experience::::laughing:::although we are sitting on a major fault here, we never expect earthquakes here. We did add earthquake insurance on when we bought the farm, since they have been predicting The Big One all my life. Once a quake hit so hard in this area that the Mississippi River flowed backwards.

Actually feeling the Force of nature is exhilarating and humbling. There is nothing we can do but, as the old people say, "abide with it."

Tags: KY earthquake

guns in a Quaker home?

Thu, 17 Apr 2008 20:05:39 GMT

Those of you who do not live in the United States may not be as touchy about the subject of guns and gun control as Americans. Many of my friends and senseis have concealed weapon permits and carry firearms. Just as many of my friends hate guns and feel they are too available. I tend to side with them.

I do not own any guns, and I have been happily gun-free most of my life. We had weapons in my grandparent's home when I was growing up. My maternal grandfather was an Army lifer and a veteran of both Viet Nam and Korea. He kept hunting rifles in the house, although he was too soft hearted to hunt. He did have the sort of NRA attitude "You will take my guns from me when you pry it from my cold dead fingers." I think it might be in part because the Cherokees were defeated by white invaders, and then supported the Confederacy and were defeated then, too.

My other grandfather was on the beach at Normandy during D-day. He hated guns with a passion and we never had guns at his home.

My next door neighbor accidentally killed his little brother while playing with a loaded gun. I was a middle schooler when I saw them carry his dead body out of the house on a stretcher with the blood soaked sheet over his head. It made quite an impression on me.

Later, the son of one of my husband's coworkers also accidentally killed his brother...and inadvertently his mother, who committed suicide.

Now that we are in the rural country and far from town, my husband is wanting to get a gun for target practice and I suppose for self defense. Since we are much safer here than we were in the inner city, it does not make much sense to me.

He stopped at a local gun shop the other day.

He is wanting a handgun. Handguns are only made to kill other humans, so I am not in favor of this. If we have to have a firearm I would at least prefer it be a rifle, so that if a horse breaks a leg or a deer is hit by a car at least we can put the poor thing out of its misery.

What do you think about guns, if you have to tolerate one in your home?

I have already said it must be kept in a locked cabinet, with the ammunition stored in the garage. My kids are too curious and I would be afraid they would get hurt.

I also said that the kids would have to attend a hunter safety course if he brings a gun into the house.

There is a great Gun and Bow 4-H club that the children can join. My oldest girl, Mandy Mae, wants to learn a black powder weapon since she is involved in historical reenacting. The children and I have taken archery lessons on and off for years. (I suck, but they are pretty good.) Archery is very meditative. I like archery.

I need feedback on this...

love, Kas

Tags: guns, gun control, children and guns,

death on the farm

Mon, 14 Apr 2008 02:56:18 GMT

Snip's beautiful foal was perfect and beautiful and stillborn.

It seems so sad and so unfair, but life is unfair. It was so heartbreaking to see her washing and nudging the baby and trying to get it to get up, and then looking at me like, "Do something!"

She had it by herself, and it was already cold when I found her in her stall. It was dead before it was born.

It has brought up lots of old sad feelings about losing my own babies.

Miniature horses have a lot more losses than big horses. Still, she had foaled three times before successfully. It is just heartbreaking to lose this baby. It was a little filly, and black with white stockings and a white spot on her face, just perfect, tiny and beautiful.

My children are learning some harsh realities of life on a farm. We have lost a pregnant hedgehog, ten rats, had the kitten drown, Atticus die, and now lost our first foal--all since December.

I am sad.

Tags: stillborn foal

Ariff Mehter sensei and Sean Raisor Sensei

Mon, 19 Apr 2004 23:37:38 GMT

from the Aikido of Cincinnati website

Sean Raisor is the first male Mandy ever had a crush on. She used to follow him around the dojo literally "mooneyed." She was crushed when he called during her sixteenth birthday party and said that he couldn't come. She still idolizes him.

I will say Sean has the prettiest ukemi of anyone and a "way" about him. The sensei standing with Sean is Mehter Sensei, a personal hero of mine. He is the highest ranked instructor at our dojo , a physician, and a wonderful man. Of all the people I know that I would choose to be a king, Mehter sensei is the person I would choose. He is compassionate without being the least bit weak, highly ethical, and a warrior. He also loves animals.

I am so glad that my children know Mehter sensei, because after 911 when everyone seemed to be speaking like all Muslims are terrorists, all I had to say was that "Mehter sensei is a devout Muslim" and they immediately realized the difference between Muslims and terrorists--that saying all Muslims are terrorists is the same as saying all Christians are terrorists. After all, the terrorists who blew up the Oklahoma Federal building were Christian.

Tags: aikido, Ariff Mehter