Precious Metal

Torpedo chose to wake up early to join me on a grocery shopping trip. While we were there he saw something he really wanted, a king sized Snickers bar. It cost $1.19. I told him that I would buy it for him if he would pay me back with his own money when we got home. He agreed.

I am not a fast shopper, but he held onto that candy bar the whole time. I am also not a purchaser of small quantities. We provision every two weeks. For a family of 7 that fills two shopping carts. Tornado tracked his Snickers on the conveyer belt. It didn't look so king sized in the moving jungle of staple food items. After I finished loading the trunk and backseat with half a month's worth of food, I checked Tornado's seatbelt. He still had his candy bar in hand and it was still wrapped.

"When are you going to eat that candy bar?" I asked.

"When I give you the money for it," Tornado answered.

I assumed he would eat it as soon as the cashier handed it to him. It was paid for. But he knew he hadn't paid for it. Instead of telling him to go ahead an eat it, I supported his instincts and said, "You are an honest boy. You're going to be a wonderful young man someday."

He received the praise and beamed, "Yeah. When I'm a teenager, I'm going to be a ninja!"

As soon as we got home, Torpedo ran for his bank and handed over a pile of nickels, dimes, and a couple of quarters. Then he happily tore into his Snickers. To me, it was precious metal. A boy with that kind of discipline definitely has what it takes to be a ninja!

Sequence

We've been trying dreams on for size over the past several months. In September we spent about a month living on a quiet gravel drive in Cape Cod post high season. My Hero was writing full time and workshopping a new piece. Sliding glass doors into a private yard gave the children a seamless indoor outdoor adventure as they could explore unfettered. A small lakefront beach for catching turtles and chasing minnows or kayakers was just through the woods and a proper front row seat at the Atlantic Ocean was only blocks away. At night we built fires and sang along with My Hero's violin. We absorbed an astonishing number of s'mores. We walked with wild turkeys. Our sweet neighbors brought fresh cut flowers and offered to share their firewood. This dream seemed to fit pretty well, but was un$u$tainable. We had to head home.

I got land fever. It took over two months before I began to be content in the city again. Meanwhile, the total searches at landandfarm.com was boosted by our constant viewing. Still, the idea of living aboard is intoxicating because of the implied simplicity, adventure, and romance. It's been surprisingly difficult to decide between seeds and sails until we discovered a livable solution: sequence. In our hearts, we aren't lifelong vagabonds. We're interested in experience and discovery, but we don't see ourselves sailing for more than a year or two at most. So, we decided to sail first and farm second.

Sticking to our tradition of doing something new on our anniversary, we spent our "Sweet 16" hauling the whole family to Mystic, CT and Portsmouth, RI to look at bluewater cruisers. They got to tour the world's first nuclear submarine and eat donuts as well. Not a bad day for a couple of dreamers.

Guts

"Do you really have the guts to do all the things you say you're going to do? I hear a lot of talk, but I'm not seeing any action. Why don't you just do it?!" Star wants to know. Fourteen year olds are pithy like that.

All the "things" we are yammering about include:

*becoming digital nomads and living out of our van while traveling the world

*ditto on a 30-40 foot sailboat

*homesteading some farmland where we grow our own food, raise some chickens and maybe a cow or goat

*putting a sleek, environmentally friendly, prefabricated house in the middle of a wooded lot where we write daily and spend the rest of the time running the woods like characters from our favorite Gene Stratton Porter books.

These dreams ask should I stay or should I go? At the root they are the same dream of spending the time of our lives in the ways we feel will be most satisfying and significant to our family: independence, travel, nature, creativity. These are all powerful draws. As My Hero said at his workplace this week, "The only thing between anyone and this place is two weeks notice." We've got the itch, the anxious hollow belly feeling that something BIG needs to change. So why don't we just do it? I can answer that with an equation.

The Equation of Progress by innovation expert Bob Moesta.

F1 (push of the situation) + F2 (Pull of the new idea) > F3 (allegiance to current or past behavior) + F4 (anxiety of new solution)

My friend, Whitney, just posted this equation in regards to social media, but as soon as I read it I realized I had the answer to Star's question. The push of our current situation and the pull of our big dreamy ideas is not yet greater than the sum total of our allegiance to our current situation combined with our anxiety about making the necessary changes.

In all fairness, we have spent the last three years learning sailing and recently certified to sail 50 foot boats. We planted seeds this year. We bought rock climbing shoes. We repeatedly decrease our total possessions. We've spent weeks road tripping and even took the kids camping. Our toes are nearly over the edge. Still, a slight decrease in F4 could result in the net guts required to pack our passion and go. I'm not sure how long I'll be working on this equation, but math has never been more engaging.

Insteading

"Distractination," Sparkle's answer as to why she hadn't even begun washing the dinner table in the time the rest of us had completed our chores. Hmmm.... My Hero calls it "insteading." I think we all do it. Sometimes we do something else instead of what's required, expected, or intended. Life is what happens when you're not blogging. This is my Insteading Collage.

Pride and Prejudice

As I was leaving the library yesterday, my eyes happened upon a dominican man in his early thirties sitting absorbed in a slim paperback volume. I glanced at the title, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. It surprised me in a happy ways. First, I'm always happy to discover secret stereotypes lurking in my brain so I can dismiss them. Second, I was happy to hope I may have more in common than I thought, not just with this man but with my fellowman. Lastly, I'm more than a little tickled that Ms. Austen instigated the whole thing. How apropos!

Favorite Things

One of our favorite things is weekly Science Co-op.

Preston's music was our co-op "soundtrack" one lucky day.

I was an obnoxious nine year old. Mom wasn't sure what to do with me until she overheard a grocery store conversation. Two other moms were lamenting over their obnoxious nine year olds. It struck Mom that my attitude was merely symptomatic of my age.

At home she explained her discovery to me, as well as the solution. I would receive an additional birthday to scoot me past this phase. She made treats for school, wrapped a present, and the whole family sang. These tokens proved to be the required talisman. After that, if I slipped into nine-year old behaviors Mom would chasten, "Remember, you're ten now."

You won't find that in any parenting book. Mom, thanks for prayerful, customized, outside-the-box solutions.