Hapless Homestead
We're transforming our raw land in a rain forest area of Hawaii into something useful and productive. Occasional forays into the joys and perils of teaching and raising teens may take place.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
New Blog
I just thought that since I canʻt find anything really that helps me, that doesnʻt fill me with despair over the loss of my son, maybe I can write what I canʻt find. Maybe it will help me, and maybe it wonʻt. Maybe it will speak to someone else, and maybe it canʻt.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Storms Internal and External
I just posted something I wrote in May. It's so full of angst and stress, but oh, how I want that week back.
My son died in a car accident last week. My beautiful, talented, wonderful son is gone. And the storm in me far outweighs the hurricanes churning toward us.
Life is so precious, so fragile, and all I want is to roll back the hands of time. Instead, there are legal matters and personal matters to deal with. Moving the things I so lovingly and excitedly bought out of the dorm. Dealing with insurance and police. Dealing with the tremendous outpouring of grief from school and our small community. Dealing with my own immense, unmanageable, almost unbearable anguish.
My husband has been great, and my parents and my sister-in-law. I can't think of anything for the services, not one detail, except one song. I went to work one day, because it helped me and I believe it helped the other kids. But, as terrible as it sounds, I am glad for the storms, for the chance to rage with the winds. His middle name meant wind.... and he was that: often full of passionate intensity, with the capacity for gentleness, unfailingly polite (not always at home, mind you - the boy could belch louder than you'd imagine and he loved to stir us up at the dinner table, but only at home).
I miss him. I am broken and will never be completely mended.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
The Last Week
Now that is going to be a killer. It might be even more killer the first day of the school year here without any of my kids. When I first came to this school, my oldest son was a senior. The year after he graduated, I found myself looking for him in the morning protocol bunch and feeling sad that he wasnʻt there. He wasnʻt far, but he had moved out into an apartment, was attending college, had started his adult life (with a few bumps on the way). I suspect that my youngest may be the only one that gets enough scholarship money to go to the continent for college... and that will be hard. I wonʻt be able to drop off food, or just generally check in (not that I did enough of that, frankly).
I feel like this graduation (which is my last official work day of the year) is this big hurdle that I just have to get over, but the truth is, itʻs just one. As a teacher, I count my years from August to July, and this year has been a doozy. Iʻd like to think that once those lei get placed around the graduatesʻ necks (my fingers are sore from making lei), the year will be over and all itʻs challenges behind us. But, the truth is, my second son may need another lung surgery, we have to continue to be vigilant about the possibility of recurrent cancer for my husband, and next year is another senior year hell of applications for colleges, scholarships, AP tests and SAT tests and all the rest of it.
That sounds really gloomy. I donʻt actually feel that gloomy - hence the email to myself to be a little more patient and mindful. Although helping kids with college scholarship applications is pretty darned stressful for me, itʻs also a pretty joyful process. All that guiding and encouraging, cheering on and nagging unmercifully, is paying off. Applying for scholarships, reading the essays they write for them, itʻs a celebration as much as it is a prayer (or begging, I donʻt know) that they get the means to follow their dreams is a way that wonʻt bankrupt their future.
The Last Week
Now that is going to be a killer. It might be even more killer the first day of the school year here without any of my kids. When I first came to this school, my oldest son was a senior. The year after he graduated, I found myself looking for him in the morning protocol bunch and feeling sad that he wasnʻt there. He wasnʻt far, but he had moved out into an apartment, was attending college, had started his adult life (with a few bumps on the way). I suspect that my youngest may be the only one that gets enough scholarship money to go to the continent for college... and that will be hard. I wonʻt be able to drop off food, or just generally check in (not that I did enough of that, frankly).
I feel like this graduation (which is my last official work day of the year) is this big hurdle that I just have to get over, but the truth is, itʻs just one. As a teacher, I count my years from August to July, and this year has been a doozy. Iʻd like to think that once those lei get placed around the graduatesʻ necks (my fingers are sore from making lei), the year will be over and all itʻs challenges behind us. But, the truth is, my second son may need another lung surgery, we have to continue to be vigilant about the possibility of recurrent cancer for my husband, and next year is another senior year hell of applications for colleges, scholarships, AP tests and SAT tests and all the rest of it.
That sounds really gloomy. I donʻt actually feel that gloomy - hence the email to myself to be a little more patient and mindful. Although helping kids with college scholarship applications is pretty darned stressful for me, itʻs also a pretty joyful process. All that guiding and encouraging, cheering on and nagging unmercifully, is paying off. Applying for scholarships, reading the essays they write for them, itʻs a celebration as much as it is a prayer (or begging, I donʻt know) that they get the means to follow their dreams is a way that wonʻt bankrupt their future.
Chicken Coop ...after a hiatus
At the moment, all those chickens are free range. We used to lock them up at night, but weʻve given up, and they just roost on the pipe rails of the horse and sheep stall. Heʻs luring them in daily with food, but some of them would rather snatch a few morsels of sheep feed than to get their full ration of layer pellet. Weʻd like them to come in at night where there are lovely egg boxes, so that they will be tempted to lay their eggs where we can find them. As it is, they lay more often than not in the forest (we think), where we canʻt find the eggs.
Itʻs frustrating to feed 20+ chickens and not be able to find the eggs.
At the beginning of the summer, we had plenty of eggs, but once they figure out we "found" the nest (sorry, ladies, but the corner of the horse stall is not very hidden), they move. Itʻs also possible that mongoose are getting some of the eggs, and, honestly, my dog Mellie could also be a culprit, but I never catch her at it anymore.... Wherever they are, whatever is happening to them, the eggs are not in my fridge, so that means weʻre feeding hens for nothing.
I keep threatening them with freezer camp, and amusingly, it seems that every time we have a school break, and I have the time to actually make good on my threat, the eggs magically appear. Letʻs hope it happens next week, when summer school is over, because I donʻt want to buy terrible store bought eggs.
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Cleaning Up the Fence Line
My old dog, Cinnamon, and I checked out the work:
You canʻt see her well - a little bit like playing "Whereʻs Waldo" (and now I AM dating myself!) minus the stripes and glasses. Sheʻs quite old for a shepherd mix and is slowing down, so it was nice that she felt like exploring.
I planted those trees a long time ago - the pines. Itʻs nice to be able to see them. The ferns in the picture are uluhe, and they grow up and smother everything.
I am teaching summer school, so no time for projects. I will have a week off before my sonʻs surgery, a week to help him recover, and then itʻs back to work for me. Good thing I truly love teaching!
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Starting Summer School
My second son will be having another surgery next month. He had a pneumothorax (full collapse) of one lung in September, and a partial collapse on the other in April. To prevent another, bigger collapse of the second lung, the pulmonologist is recommending a corrective surgery. I am a small bit freaked out, although we were able to schedule it between summer school and regular school.
Well, anyway, all my lofty plans of cleaning and organizing came to almost naught - I did slog through cleaning my filing system (I didnʻt finish). I am happy to report, though, that I am delighted with my two writing classes this summer: my students have lovely, can-do attitudes - the few who are a little sour that they their parents have chosen summer school for them over lolling around the house were relatively easy to jolly out of their I-miss-my-bed funk: mostly because theyʻve been in my class before and I reminded them, "Ah, I am not so bad; weʻll have fun. You KNOW I am going to do something ridiculous at some point that will make you laugh...."
The perks of being a total goof and being a teacher.... watching for the goofy moments is totally engaging for a 16 year old, so I can be my goofy self and itʻs a useful tool instead of just an embarrassment.