Living in the city isn't really where I want to be so planted a meadow of poppies and bachelor's button (and others) in my front yard.

I grew up in a small town on the East coast but moved West and lived in a little city in WA state- and found my dream home (remarkably in my small price range) in the country. That was it for me- the moment we pulled into the driveway, I said "This isn't in our price range, there's a mistake- it can't be. This is my house, this is what I want, this is it for me- my forever home ". A farm house on an 1 acre and 1/2 with room for animals and children. But with impending layoffs for the hubby and four fabulous little people to feed, we moved into the city in exchange for a smaller mortgage and less time in the car.

The house we bought in the city was lacking in appeal in many ways. We worked hard to make it lovely, to take mundane and make it magic and I think we did.

And yet, every window has a view of a neighbor, every word or temper tantrum is public knowledge even with the window down and every siren or racing car can be heard at night- and you can't see the stars. Those celestial messengers that keep us tuned in,- they are almost invisible.

My soul has become so desperate over the last four years for land and space away from the chaos that it screams for it at times.

So we plant: a vegetable garden, a fig tree, a two-tree apple orchard in the front yard and now elderberries- food and medicine grown from our tiny plot.

I make do with the livestock I have.

I dream of a little plot of land, just a wisp- 1 acre, maybe 2- where I can have my nubian goats again and get up early and milk, tend a giant garden, can in an old farm kitchen and have enough room for the children to really play.

Over the last 4 years, we have worked hard to create an urban farm- not because it is cool and hipster in this overly-hipstered city but because we miss our farm and this plot of 5,000 sqft is what we have to farm and so we try to make it work.

If we could lift up Noisy Cottage and place it gently down on an acre somewhere, our souls could breathe again- without exhaust and noise and chaos, we could do what we were meant for.

But for now, we plant, we tend and we cuddle our children- and our clutch of livestock- and hold on tight to our dream of land and that elusive farm life we hope to find again soon.........

Well, to tell the truth

I'm a Waldorf kid.

I was raised in a community that was very Waldorf from the age of 10 up and before that my mother (who was eclectically Waldorf herself) kept that feeling in our house and our daily rhythm.

I was thinking about this recently and wanted to write down somethings about it.

The term Waldorf embodies a community of caring parents who seek a better education, a more whole education for their children (and often a more whole approach to their own lifestyles). You will have the more dogmatic parents and the less involved parents but you will find a rich community dedicated to making childhood, and life in general, magical.

What I find the most interesting are the reactions I see from people when they hear the word "Waldorf". There can be extreme distaste, vague recognition, a shrug of the shoulders or a big smile. Personally, I love it in many ways- and in some ways I raise an eyebrow and stifle a smile- you have to have balance!

When someone complains about Waldorf, the main complaint I have heard is in relation to the dogmatic Waldorf people. (I will be using the term "Dorfies" for Waldorf people. "Dorfies" has emerged in some tongue in cheek Waldorf circles and I love it- makes me feel like I came from an impish gnome clan).

The DDs (Dogmatic Dorfies), despite an often soft appearance in clothing and stance, can wear a disapproving look on their face and tend to be ready to judge those who they deem to be somehow lacking and they do judge- most often in passive aggressive ways. They hold themselves aloof and may speak down to people. They don't emanate that gentle welcoming presence that is more traditional and encouraged in Waldorf circles. I have repeatedly run into characters like this and found people who experienced this so I now consider it a "type" of Dorfie- though I suspect that a sad person lurks behind each of those dogmatic exteriors. I try to steer clear of the DDs, I respect their commitment to their lifestyle but not necessarily their execution of that commitment. The world needs less judgement and guilt and much more love and acceptance. Do not let a DD turn you away from exploring Waldorf education or philosophy, a DD is human and needs a little extra love to get passed that which is making them dogmatic.

These dogmatics are fewer and farther between depending on where you are in the world. On the whole, the people within these communities just seek a more whole view and approach to human beings- no matter what their age and you can't really argue against that.

How can you turn down an education that involves painting and sculpture, movement (Eurythmy as well as dance, gymnastics, etc), languages (foreign and domestic), stained glass, pottery, weaving, sewing, as well as the traditional subjects and much more. This education does not lack. Without the use of text books students explore their subjects head on and with their own minds blossoming open. In fact, as a graduate you usually get your pick of colleges.

But Waldorf goes further than that- in fact, I have been surprised by the Dorfies on the West Coast and how little they know of the bigger Waldorf picture. Rudolf Steiner, the father of Waldorf education, didn't just create a curriculum, he inspired a religion (aka The Christian Community) and there are many life sharing communities around the world that use his philosophies (Camphill Communities) in their daily lives as they live side by side with people with special needs. Many of my classmates and schoolmates were raised in life sharing communities like this and it was wonderful.

I could get into the crazy expense now attached to Waldorf and how sad it is that an education who's first students were the Waldorf Cigarette factory's worker's children is now only for families who have means but that will have to be another time. I can only offer thanks that charter schools are embracing Waldorf and are offering alternative free education in many places.

As for all that weirdness like "don't eat meat before 3" and "don't let children use a mirror until such and such an age or they will incorporate their id too quickly into their souls/bodies" well- I have never been blind to it. I feel like you can take or leave what you like and if it all works for you, join an anthroposophical study group and if you don't that's OK!

I hide my smile when someone from a Waldorf community who is more dogmatic discovers that I am a second generation Dorfie, married to a Dorfie. My tattoos and stretched lobes and sometimes funky attire throw them. I like to say "This IS what a Waldorf kids looks like." Never expect someone to look or act a certain way because they are under a label-- people excel at surprising each other and free thinkers are a gift!

Just like the world at large we are diverse and not that different from the other children who were not at Waldorf. Yet, there is that Waldorf base that keeps coming up- we keep looking for gnomes and fairies because we can't shake that feeling of magic. And we still don't want to go to Eurythmy class because those slippers are uncomfortable (we want them in colors!) and we would rather fence with those copper rods than perform a poem or verse :p

Waldorf worked for me- I blossomed under its tutelage- weaving, knitting, making topographical maps (of a property outside of Boston known as The House of Peace- a home for refugee children from all over the world- how else would you learn trigonometry), a trip to Africa with Dorfies from around the world to talk about life and the world- my life is richer for it and in the end that is what I take from it.

I make toys for my children, bake bread and knit sweaters. I wonder at the world with child's eye as often as I can (and try to do it more often!) and try to keep things magical- gnomes in the garden; fairies in the woods. Did I get it from my mother? Yes, did she get it from her mother? Yes. Did Waldorf help ingrain that even more in my character- yes!

So, this is what a Waldorf kid looks like and I am and will always be from the clan of Dorfies-- and that is just how it is.

Oh When Autumn Falls.....

There is nothing quite like the feel of autumn setting in. If you lean, just right, into that fresh crisp air you feel like you might lift off the ground and take flight.

Here at Noisy Cottage, we returned to canning for the first time in over 5 years. Not having our farm anymore is hurting pretty badly so we are faking it here though I don't think I could pass sheep or goats off as dogs-- the neighbors would know. But we are looking for land, just a plot at least 1 1/2 acres where we can return to the land we love and grow and raise and run.

But, back to the canning- Since we don't have the room to grow it all ourselves, we purchased cases of vegetables from The Pumpkin Patch on Sauvie Island- beets, tomatoes, green beans and pickling cucumbers and then a quick run over to Vancouver's Firestone Farms found us with 4 cases of Veteran Peaches for $30 (buy 1 get 1 free).

So we began to can. I don't think I remembered how much work it actually was. We always go for the grade B fruit since the grade A is so much more money but the work in picking through and washing and cutting out the worms or bruises is very consuming.

When all was said and done, we managed in to put up:

30 qts if peaches

10 qts of tomatoes

6 qts and 12 pints of pickles

11 pints of spicy string beans

2 dozen pints of peach butter, peach jam and blackberry jam (combined)

It is so deeply satisfying.

Oh Golden's Sad Downfall

I should add, at this point, that Golden's swollen face became inflamed and since this has been going on for about 5 months, we made the decision to have her put down. We have tried medications, had conversations and exams by a vet but to no avail so we figured if she didn't get worse we could just let her hang out in her own chick-digs. But her face got a lot worse and we had come to the end of the road.

We know she went quickly.

Poor girl, we wish the meds had worked and that you had gotten better.

Golden the Conquering Chicken

We were more than surprised to find that our perky, but somewhat permanently disfigured Buff Orpington (chicken), Golden, standing in the kitchen yesterday evening- apparently unfazed at finding herself in a house on a linoleum floor. She just proceeded to walk around clucking and strutting and then hopped up on to the counter with fowl elegance and startling accuracy (please note the small plate behind her with a freshly grilled drumstick, we only hoped she would not notice our indiscretion).

We petted her, cooed at her and whisked her back outside to her house. What more can you say about an evening at Noisy Cottage? It is always interesting around these parts.....