MODERNISTA MAMA-this blog has moved to: mixhart.ca/blog

Modernista Mama Has Moved

2012-11-11T16:39:00.000-08:00

This is my last post from this address. Moderinista Mama is now on WordPress. Please go to my new address and follow me. You'll have to subscribe to my new address once you reach my new page as all of my blogspot email subscribers cannot be transferred over.

Looking forward to getting reacquainted on my new page!

Find Modernista Mama at:

mixhart.ca/blog

Woman Working...

2012-11-09T14:26:00.000-08:00

The new WordPress blog site is taking a long time because I'm a DO IT YOURSELF kind of a girl and sometimes that means it takes forever...

However, I believe this weekend will be the time to finish the job and get it up and running. I'm switching to WordPress on the advice of a professional blogger who makes over 6 figures on her blog each year. WordPress will (theoretically) allow me more more freedom to combine the Modernista Mama blog with my Mix Hart Writer Website. Though, how I already miss blogger...it is so user friendly...weep...weep...I've been on blogger for over 5 years!

I apologize for the slump in posts but a girl has to work sometimes.

Here is a peek at a photo I am considering for my new blog header (the girls' joy of life is contagious):

La joie des filles de la vie est contagieuse!

Modernista Mama is Moving to WordPress!

2012-11-07T10:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Readers,

I am moving Modernista Mama over to WordPress on my new web site. My new Modernista Mama blog url is mixhart.ca/blog The new web site mixhart.ca (mixhart.com also takes you there) will eventually be a website to promote my books, paintings and the Moderista Mama blog.

The new blog site is not ready, just yet, but it will be very soon. Not to worry though, for the first while, a link will redirect all traffic to my new site.

Thank-you for your patience and support and I hope you enjoy the new and improved Modernista Mama!

Mix Hart xx
Below are a few pics I'm debating about using for the cover shot :

Chewy Chocolate Puff Squares (gluten free)

2012-11-06T16:08:00.000-08:00

Chewy Chocolate Puff Squares

(gluten free)

-6 squares unsweetened baking chocolate

-1/4 cup cocoa

1/2 cup butter

-1 bag mini marshmallows

-1 tsp vanilla

-2 cups puffed rice

-2 cups puffed corn

-1/2 cup puffed quinoa

Melt butter and chocolate in sauce pan on low heat. Add cocoa and vanilla. Add marshmallows and stir until just melted. Add puffed cereals. Mix well. Pour into buttered 9"x 13" shallow dish. Chill in fridge. Slice into squares.

*My children love these squares. I've made both puffed wheat variations and chocolate/peanut butter variations. But one of my daughters is gluten intolerant and another has a peanut allergy. Thus, this variation hits the spot at our house.

Pizzaface Time

2012-11-04T20:46:00.000-08:00

Biscuit Oil on Canvas, by Mix Hart

This is Biscuit. He's a yellow-bellied marmot and a character in my middle years fiction novel. He makes an appearance in all three novels of the Peter Not- Pizzaface series. He is the pet of a character named Hippy. The novels are fantasy, action, adventure and humour. They take place in the wondrous and thrilling, BC wilderness. The protagonist is an eleven year old boy and the other main characters are strong girls and women.

I've had a crazy month of writing day and night and attending writing conferences, meeting with agents etc. My literary novel, Queen of the Godforsaken is finished. So now I am moving on to self-editing my middle years novels.

I am not using my paintings in my middle years novels. However, I painted portraits of a few of the characters to breathe life into the fantasy world I've created. The portraits are painted in black and white (for possible publishing).

Life is about selling myself, lately. I am selling my talents, my novels, my Club Zen class.
I am going to reward myself with time to paint again soon too. Once my middle years series are edited, I am completing my picture book, A Pug Named Pru. It is a very beautiful picture book with elaborate, oil painting illustrations (by moi). All of my children's books have themes of the sacredness of nature, human kindness, feminism and adventure throughout them.
As hard as it is, I love this whole writing world. I'm really enjoying the process.

Clothes Pin Dolls

2012-11-01T12:52:00.002-07:00

Pip's Arabian Princess Doll and Old Fashioned Girl Doll

My mom spent a recent weekend looking after my girls. She brought her special craft bag with her. It was full of supplies to make clothes pin dolls. Imagine my delight on returning home to these lovely handmade dolls.

Supplies Needed:

Fabric scraps
Pipe cleaners
Felt pens
Craft glue
Fun fur
Yarn
Lace scraps

Mist's Japanese Anime Character Doll and Sound of Music Character Doll

Tabs' Groom and Bride Dolls.

Club Zen

2012-10-29T10:41:00.004-07:00

Inviting the Bell

I piloted a Dharma class for children this weekend: CLUB ZEN. It was called Dharma Kids, but we've decided to rename it as many people don't know what Dharma means. The class is now called:

Club Zen: games, songs and meditation--for children and teens
ages 6-16

Zen has become a mainstream concept for children partly because of the global popularity of the books Zen Shorts and Zen Ties by Jon J. Muth.

Drawing Our Calm Places of Refuge

Pebble Meditation

Cooperative Rolling Marble Game
*photos by Miranda Hart

The class was a triumph thanks to all my participants and helpers. My nephew accompanied our songs on guitar.

The atmosphere was joyful and peaceful. I had so much fun teaching the class and all of my activities were well received. I couldn't believe how focused our little 6 years olds were during meditation! I over-planned and only managed to complete about 1/3 of my activities, which, is great as I can use the remainder for future classes. My next task is advertising for next month's meeting in many more locations and getting the local news involved.

When I Breathe In, I breathe In Peace

When I Breathe Out, I Breathe Out Love

A Dose of Modern Motherhood

2012-10-27T07:49:00.000-07:00

Pip shares my fashionista personality.

I've been a single parent most of this week. My husband travels a lot with his work. I used to like to accompany him to most conferences but now, I simply cannot. Life is too busy on the home front.

Yesterday evening, I decided to catch up on a few chores by driving my children around to pick up various supplies they need for their extra-curricular activities. We headed out at 4 pm and did not return until nearly 8 pm--four hours of driving from place to place--we managed to stop at nine different destination locations. I was spent. How does one parent in this age? Three children all needing Halloween costume supplies, piano lesson supplies, new running shoes for gym class, new skates for skating lessons, eye medicine for a sudden case of pink-eye.

I am not an errand loving kind of a girl. I like leisure time. I love having fun with life. So how did this happen to me? I work-out and walk/run my dogs in the morning, work on my career all day and the evenings/weekends are house/children's errands, lessons.

There is no leisure time for me. Just before bed I meditate and read a little Dharma. I get up early,

before the sun and head out running with my dogs, and then it all starts all over again. However, running through the forest before the sun is up is truly one of the day's highlights. Forests smell so good in the damp, cool morning.

Me and my baby girl.

I get why people are having smaller families in this century. If I had one kid, perhaps I'd have 3 stops, 2 kids--6 errand stops. I also understand why so many big families home school. If you have 5 kids, I dare say, it would be impossible to keep up with the errand demands if they attended public school. The wardrobe and supply shopping is endless.

Yes, my daughters love fashion, just like their mom, but having the time to shop for fashionable clothing items is almost unheard of in our weekly errands. I consider that type of shopping, fun, almost like leisure time.

However, I am deeply grateful that I have been blessed with three babes to raise. And I intend to find some way to cut down on the endless errands, so that one day, perhaps, we might actually get to do nothing and go nowhere.

Pip and I on a recent fall day. I think age 6 is the perfect
fashionista age-absolutely anything goes. There are no
limits to the outfits one can create and wear.

A Magic Cat Named Pyewacket

2012-10-25T08:53:00.000-07:00

In honor of Halloween coming up, I promised to tell the mystical yet, true tale of how a cat named Pyewacket magically appeared in my life.

I still miss Silver
(but not the pee on the beds and leather sofas)

Pyewacket crying high in the pine tree.

I used to have a cat. A gorgeous purebred silver-tipped persian. But Persians don't like little kids and dogs. Silver hid or peed on the kids beds and leather sofa daily. And pooped everywhere but his box (and yes I tried every box in the world and litter types too--spent over $100 on an automatic variety too). After six years of trying to make Silver happy, in a house with 3 kids and a dog, I decided it was time to find him an adult only home. I found him a single woman whose dream it was to own such a beautiful Persian.
Before Silver, my entire life has been filled with cats. I always had a cat growing up and as an adult too. After Silver left, it was

the first time in my life I'd been without a pet cat.

I've been catless for about three years.They've been long years. I love cats. But then I adopted Pablo, my Boston Bull dog--a breed fond of killing small animals. Pablo sealed the deal--no more cats as long as he's my boy.

And then one day, last month, I took my girls to a pet store to buy dog supplies. My daughter Mist, insisted I walk over to the cat adoption centre to look at the kittens. I said no, it would be too painful as I really long to have a cat again. I continued on, remembering fondly--cat kisses and the precious smell of their little foreheads.

Pyewacket desperate for someone to hear his calls and help him get down.

It was painful, I truly wanted nothing more than a cat in my life, right there and then. So over to the centre I walked, to look at the kittens in the window. Seeing their precious faces made me long for a cat of my own even more. I told my daughters how much it hurt to be there, because I wanted one so badly. We left the store but the feeling of longing for a kitty to love, did not leave me.

We drove home and my girls immediately joined the neighbor girls on a hike on the mountain behind our home. Within a half an hour they were back. They'd discovered a cat, high in a skinny pine tree, howling. The cat was at least forty feet up in the tree.
A neighbor told the girls it had been howling since before the weekend (that would be a week). No one had been able to coax it down and the fire department wouldn't help.

I headed out with the girls to investigate (upper right pictures). There he was all right, unable to come down because the pine had no lower branches. The wilderness park is teaming with coyotes--he must have been chased up too high to get back down. Each night the coyotes must have visited the tree, making an evening escape impossible too. We called and called to Pyewacket and he called back but could not get down.

Pyewacket, my daughter Mist and me, an hour after his rescue.

I rushed home to make a few calls. A neighbor-friend agreed to meet us there with his ladder. By the time we got back to the forest Pyewacket was gone. Our calls had finally gotten to him. He could not take the tree any longer and in his weakened state, he'd attempted to climb down but fallen. Our friend Dave, suggested we look in the grass, as he'd be too weak to get very far. Dave found him. His body was emaciated but he seemed to be alert and friendly. I took him home to my garage where I nursed him back to health with water in a syringe and wet cat food.The neighbor who lived directly behind the tree where Pyewacket was stranded, stopped by to say she'd been hearing the cat howl for a week but could not find any way to rescue him. Pyewacket is magic. How can a cat survive for a week high in a tree?

I (over the course of two hours) had wanted nothing more than a cat in my life, and then suddenly I had a cat in my home. Pyewacket was mine. Pyewacket was the most friendly, gentle boy ever. I fell instantly in love. It was as though I'd conjured him up and he appeared in a tree behind my house. I enjoyed every moment with Pyewacket, knowing I'd have to give him up eventually as my dog would most likely kill him instantly and Pyewacket could not live our garage forever.

Pyewacket has found a good home where I can visit him often. My sister is a vet. She said she'd take him and try to find him a good home with some of her favorite clients. So Pyewacket went to live in the Kootneys. But Pyewacket is magic--Pyewacket wrapped his tail around my sister's finger and she could not part with the dear boy. He is now officially the clinic cat of Cottonwood Falls Animal Clinic.

How My Dog Taught Me to Be a Better Mom

2012-10-23T09:00:00.000-07:00

* This post appeared last month in Circle of Moms' Blog. It has not yet appeared on my blog so with Circle of Moms permission, I post it for my readers:

My daughter is twelve. She is my middle child and she's just starting middle school. The school change has caused some hick-ups. She's always been a child who resists new. She clung to her worn running shoes, her old bed mattress (begged us not to take it to the dump even though the dog peed on it one too many times). She was my only baby who rejected her first solid food. My other two babies were thrilled to taste the mushy rice cereal, as though it were Haagen-Dazs. Not my middle girl, she spit it out; only breast milk would do.

What I didn't count on is how her picky eating would eventually catch up to her in her tween years. She gets sick, often--cold viruses, stomach bugs, aches and pains. I've taken her to the doctor, had her blood tested. She is healthy enough, though she has become gluten intolerant--I blame this on her picky eating. Her favorite thing has been white bread products. I believe she over did it and has now become sensitive to wheat. While her body battled the gluten, her intestines became inflamed and she absorbed little nutrients. The outcome is that she has become, suddenly, anemic (very low in iron). I've been worried about my girl for months--she seems tired, weepy, less social, less focused. The girl who organizes everything with detailed lists and labels, suddenly began loosing jackets and hoodies at school.

What started out as childhood pickiness is now effecting not only her health, but energy level and school attendance.

A picky, gluten intolerant eater soon becomes a too-thin, anemic tween. My daughter's eating habits were not going to change on their own. I had to change them. When doctors and self help books failed, I looked to my dog for the answer. Training my new puppy might give me ideas on how to train my daughter. My pup has behavioral issues, ones that could ultimately affect his life. At five months Pablo (my pup) demonstrated very aggressive behavior towards other dogs. I've spent the last six months training him with unflinching dedication in situations that are often terrifying and emotionally exhausting. I must lead him. On his own, he is self-destructive. My daughter's eating habits have also become self destructive, I must lead her to a safer path. The training never ceases. It's not like we get it now, move on. No, the training is constant, vigilant. Each day is a new day with successes and set backs. But we're on the right path of strong leadership

She eats what I make her now. I keep everything gluten free and healthy. She must drink a super-antioxidant rich glass of juice each morning as well. She hates this, plugs her nose and gags as though its medicine. She is also on iron supplements. I insist she eat what I put on her plate. I am not cruel, I don't force her to eat things she absolutely has always detested, but I am unflinching, dedicated, tough. When my child is damaging her own health with picky eating, it is unflinching, parental assertiveness that gives me hope that she will become well nourished and strong. How did I become this assertive parent? Training my aggressive dog has made me stronger. I can lead, even the most obstinate child, to a safer path.

Publishers, What Are They Good For?

2012-10-21T07:03:00.001-07:00

I am attending the Surrey International Writers' Conference in...wait for it...Surrey, BC. I'm learning a lot at this conference: ideas for crafting, editing, promoting, publishing and selling my books. I write children's picture books, middle-year fiction (ages 8-12), and literary fiction. I am here to learn a little bit about each of my chosen genres. I am learning...in between bouts bewilderment. But, despite the angst that follows, I will admit to being more determined/inspired than ever to slog ahead--writing my Hart (heart) out.

I attended this conference once before, 5 long years ago. Much has changed in the publishing industry and media in those five years.

Being a writer can feel overwhelming at times like this. I am considered fairly media savvy--my thesis is in Online story within Cybercommunities. I blog, twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Pinterest (why Pinterest, I have no idea at this time).

Mix Hart: Me, myself, and I, off to the Banquet at SIWC 2012
We had a great table, I sat with Elizabeth Lyon and Andy Ross and Gigi Rosenberg.

Yet, it is not enough. To be a writer these days, you have to be an expert at technology/social media/self promotion as well as an expert in technological design and statistical analysis.
Not to mention, one must not only be an expert self editor, but authors are expected to pay big money and have each of their books professionally edited before they send them away to agents/publishers.

No longer is the craft of just being a writer enough. Becoming an expert writer through practice and workshops, to perfect your craft is a tiny amount of what a writer must be in the 21 Century.

Writing, alone, takes all the hours of each day, yet, a writer must find the cash to pay a professional editor, long before they carve at least an extra six extra hours out of the day to edit, promote and sell their book. If the publishing business is in peril, it is because they are doing little to nothing to help out writers, using Amazon as their slush pile--a pile filled with self-published books by new writers who have put every last cent, and every minute of their lives, into getting their book into that pile.

I will put all I have learned in to practice--slowly and surely. Or truthfully, my style is quickly and impatiently. I'm okay with all the work--it's the spending my own money to make money that freaks me out. Maybe it's time to become an expert grant writer too...

*And on that note, I will announce that this blog, Modernista Mama is ready for some changes. I have to grow with the media. I've been blogging for five years+. What started out as a family journal has grown into a Mom's blog. Now it is time to get a little more organized. So, expect to see a few changes in the next few weeks, as I attempt to modernize the Modernista Mama.

Hit The Bully Where It Hurts

2012-10-19T06:01:00.000-07:00

My life as a teen: The photographs above and below are of my sister,

Catherine and I during our teen years circa 1980's

and also of a friend(Randy) and my dog McDuff

(the most amazing brother a girl could ever hope for-I miss him, a lot)
Me (I made the flapper-inspired dress I'm wearing), Catherine and McDuff)

Bullies, and bullying--the media screams these words since the horrific suicide of young Amanda Todd, a fellow British Columbian. Because of the cyber-world, bullying can now exist within another dimension that seems impermeable. We may never stop the bullies but we can educate our children on how to handle a bully. #1. Tell. Let the world know about this bully. You don't have to tell your parents, but tell your friends and tell people in authority positions. The bigger your army, the better your chance of bringing the bully to his/her knees. One thing I know for sure, ignoring a problem never makes it go away.

However, when all else fails, sometimes you have to take the bully down with his/her own poison:

McDuff, Me and Randy (the photographer didn't tell me the wind took my skirt!).

McDuff, Me and Catherine (yes, believe it or not, everyone loved our hair and we
used to get stopped and asked who our hairdresser was :P).

I want to share an experience I had as a teen with bullying and how I conquered my bullies. I am not recommending that teens try this themselves, per say, I am only describing what happened to me and what I did about it. I was a teen in the 1980's. Sexual harassment was still pretty much unheard of. I was the fashionista teen. I made my own designer outfits--always avant-garde. For a few of my teen years, I attend a rural high school on the prairies. The students were not accustomed to high fashion. I stood out, in a big way, in my flared mini-skirts and high-fashion ensembles. My outfits were admired by most of the females in my school but some of the males...well, they couldn't handle a young woman confident enough to wear daring, outside-the-box fashions. A few of the boys (older than I was by a coupe of years) found my fashionista persona threatening to their country-boy masculinity. I was stopped in the hall by skirts lifted with rulers, sneers "sexy legs" "Do you shaves those sexy legs of yours?"

Me and Catherine, goofing around. (Yes, I know it should be Catherine and I,
but I like to put the name under the person in the pic!)

If this happened today, I'd tell all girls to press sexual harassment charges and document the abuse. In those days, I was alone. I didn't have a big posse of friends who were interested in protecting me and my parents advice was: "Just ignore them, all they want is attention." My friends ignored the bullies and I tired to. But ignoring a problem is not my style, never was.

I fought back--alone--told no one of my plan. I decided to do to the bullies exactly what they did to me. I stopped them in the halls, first-before they had a chance to stop me, made fun of their "cool plaid shirts" and "manure stomping boots." Walking down the hall with my friends, I would stop in my tracks if one of the bullies walked past. I'd look him up and down, as though visually undressing him (as he always did to me). My friends had no idea what I was doing. They'd watch in confusion as I stopped, stared the guy down and asked him if he shaved those sexy legs of his.

Randy and I--the photo shoot was actually an assignment
of his and he asked if we'd model for him.

The bullies didn't know what to make of me. At first they tried to be cool, keep up the abuse but when I beat them to all their lines, they got flustered. The bullying ended. The bullies still had contempt for me, but they became pouty little boys, disappointed I'd ruined their fun and limited their bullying to cowardly phrases under their breath.

I can't recommend this as a cure-all for bullying. But it worked for me. Though, for it to work, one must be determined to do it--no fear--throw the bully's poison right back at him/her. That was my style as a teen and it worked for me.

I've blogged about how I dealt with my daughter's bully in, Mall Bully Meets Modernista Mama. The blog caused a lot of controversy: How dare I bully the bully? How dare I crack a few jokes in the blog?

Well, to clear up that controversy, I will say, that it is a blog post, not intended as an essay or news' article and thus the post is casual and written with a little humor (at myself) in the fist paragraph. And I stand by everything I did to that bully. In a world of men and boys thinking they can dominate and abuse women--I will do what ever it takes to set the boy straight. The sooner he learns it's not okay to abuse women and girls-the better his chances of leading a good and happy life--this is the teacher in me. I actually do care what happens to the bully boy. Obviously, he needs a strong adult in his life to tell him what is and isn't okay. Tough love. But most importantly, I work for my girls. No one messes with my girls..

A Most Beautiful Resilience

2012-10-17T07:55:00.000-07:00

It is the most inspirtational thing to witness a child work through personal problems, using their own imagination to create an entire team of support.

Pippi went to skating lessons on Monday evening. Towards the end of the 45 minute class, her teacher brought her crying from the ice. Pippi said her tummy hurt and that she'd fallen and hurt her head and tummy (she was wearing a helmet). She seemed very upset and weepy. When we got home she confided in me that she did not like skating lessons. She felt all the other kids were better skaters than she and skated much faster than she could. When she tried to catch up, she always fell down.

Pippi Full of Fun

I went about making supper and reassured her that she was just as good a skater as the other kids. She disagreed and said her tummy hurt again.

Then she got busy with paper, scissors and pencil crayons. A few minutes later Pippi said to me, "Gilbert is going to help me with my skating." I asked her who Gilbert was. It seems, Gilbert is a dear friend of Pippi's. He is a monster who lives in Kelowna. She has 3 other monster friends: Dill, a troll who lives in Africa and speaks French and English, Jackie a vampire who lives in Japan (she speaks no English) and Sam, a grass monster who lives in Africa. Each monster helps her with different areas of her life. Gilbert is a skating expert, Dill is a gymnast, Jackie helps Pip with soccer and Sam helps Pip with Gymnastics as well.

Pippi at Play

She showed me Gilbert and his walkie-talkie and her receiver. She will wear the receiver and ask Gilbert for advice while she skates. Gilbert will oblige with top-notch advice through the walkie-talkie system--skating dilemma solved!

I also suggested I take her to practice during public skating times and she liked that idea as well.

Pippi told me her friends are flying on airplanes to the city where we live. She said, "Do you know why they're coming?" I said no. She said, "To visit me and my Granny."
(Pippi is very excited that my mom is coming later this week to look after her while Peter and I are at conferences). She said, "Gilbert has special vision, he can see the planes coming from Africa and Japan before anyone else. He said he'd phone me and tell me when he sees them coming (Gilbert is the only monster who lives in BC with Pippi). However, I have been coached that Pippi's entire crew of monsters wear watches that make them invisible, so I won't be able to see them when they arrive for the visit.

Walkie Talkie/ Gilbert/ Receiver Pippi wears on her Skating Pants

Good Luck Skating Charm From Jackie/ Sam's phone/ Dill's Phone

Jackie's Japanese Phone

Meditation and Motherhood

2012-10-15T08:25:00.000-07:00

Pip and Mom, a Mountain Top Meditation.

Reatreat with Ajhan Sona of Birken forest Monastery, BC.

Ajahn Sona, Abbot--Birken Forest Monastery

I spent Friday evening and Saturday morning at a Buddhist meditation retreat in Kelowna. The Abbot of Birken Forest Monastery, Ajan Sona, was the monastic leading the retreat.

I found Ajahn Sona's wisdom on dealing with human emotions to be the most interesting. His simple, straight forward advice for living with the basic ups and downs of daily emotions and interactions was helpful. I would have liked to listen to him speak much longer about this.

The thing about monastics is that although they are often deep on the path towards enlightenment, they are human. So, when they respond the audience's questions with (seemingly) weak answers to Buddhist questions or tell stories that reveal the monk to be insecure about their own social status, it takes me a little by surprise. However, I like to take from each monastic, the best of what they have to offer. Monastics are human with human failings just like the rest of us lay peoples. But each and every monastic has substantial wisdom in at least one area--and this is the area I really pay attention to. Although, I admit, when I recognize personal insecurity in a monk, it makes me take stalk of my own insecurities. If I were ever to become ordained, I too would carry some personal baggage with me.
I use this same philosophy when I study The Buddha's teachings: He was human, if some of his teachings seem limited, I acknowledge his humanness and the culture/society in which he was living in.

Saturday morning's retreat was sitting and walking meditation with a break for lunch. I had planned on staying for the entire day of meditating but at lunch the compulsion to be with my kids was too strong. I needed to go home. My life is very busy, like almost all Western lives. All week long it is work and activities. I hardly have any time to just be home with my family. Many of us are rushing around to catch a dance lesson/soccer practice/music lesson/meetings etc. When the weekend arrives, guess what? More soccer/meetings/appointments. I am away next weekend and then another weekend shortly after and every day/evening some scheduled appointment.

I am not proud of this rushing around through life. I am trying to change it--trying to find a simple balance but it is almost impossible with 3 children each wanting to do several extra-curricular activities for fun (and I want them to have these opportunities to enjoy sports and music). Also, my life is in the process of big growth and change; my career was on pause for a decade to devote to raising my babes and now--time to catch up! No rest for the wicked and weary.
Thus, I felt (due to the fact I miss spending serious leisure time with my babes) that a morning meditation was enough on this day. I love Buddhism practice but I love being a mom more. My children trump everything and anything. I believe this strengthens my Buddhist practice--to know and practice true loving kindness and compassion for myself and my children.

So I get home and find Tabs rushing out the door for a soccer game (with her dad) and my other two girls busy playing (hanging Mist would say) with the neighbor girls.
But at least I was home while they played and there to make sure my soccer star took her vitamins supplements before her game.

ON BEING A GIRL

2012-10-12T16:48:00.002-07:00

Pippi and I and One of My Favorite Nieces, Artemis--Who Just Happened to Arrive at Starbucks with Her Mom at the Very Same time As Us (totally unplanned).

Pippi vs. the Banana Cake (Pippi won). My Mom Made the Smocked Dress She's Wearing (William Morris Print Fabric).

Physics Homework While Texting

October 11, 2012 was the Earth's first ever International Day of the Girl. I celebrated with 2 of my daughters and my niece at Star Bucks while my other daughter was at her volleyball game. I came across a few quotations, by famous women on CNN. The women were asked what they'd tell their 15 year old self? The below quotes are my personal favorites from CNN Online--except for the last 3, they are quotations by me (Mix Hart) and my 15 year old daughter, Mistaya and my 12 year old daughter Tabitha (because she really wanted to get her 2 cents in). I asked them what they'd tell their 40 year old self if they could speak to her now. The quotes are powerful and really make me think, even cry at memories of some of my biggest setbacks and hopes for the future.

To all my fellow sisters on Earth today: we hold nature's strongest bond in our DNA, the XX. We first must nurture ourselves and then lead the world.

What Would You Say to Your 15 Year-old Self?
"Many things--especially your biggest heartbreaks--will only make sense as you look back, not as you are experiencing them. Many of what seem at the time to be your biggest setbacks will end up leading to your biggest opportunities, and in ways you can't predict." Arianna Huffington, Editor in Chief. Huffington Post.

"You have no ides how the future will unfold. But it will unfold, slowly and quickly and slowly again. In ways that you cannot now begin to imagine...Relax and let the future arrive on its won time and in its own way. Allow yourself to be astonished." Robin Bernstein, Harvard Historian.

"Keep going, follow your passions and become engaged with the world and stay true to your self."
Melanie Verveer, US Ambassador at large for Global Women's Issues.

"Don't be discouraged if there aren't enough role models paving the way for you. Imagine the future as you want it to be and you will succeed."
Cherie Blair, Cherie Blair Foundation for Women.

"Never think that someone else knows what's best for you. Trust your way and don't ask for much advice. Learn how to be quiet and still enough to hear your own voice. Its up to you: your voice will either be silenced or will get to roar." Maria Shriver, Activist, Journalist.

"Each day of your life, continue to educate and challenge yourself to grow intellectually, creatively, spiritually, socially and physically stronger. . . One's success cannot be measure by units in time, it is the culmination of how one has lived an entire life. . . Hope is the key to success and doubt the key to failure. " Mix Hart, Author, Artist, Activist and Adventurer (sorry, I couldn't resist, the 'A' words just kept flowing).

What Would You, being 15, Say to Your 40 year-old Self?
"Always be able to connect and relate to youth...Keep a circle of friends and have it include at least one really good friend...Keep current with fashion and hold onto your passion for music." Mistaya age 15, Student, Dancer and Musician.

"Don't try to be cool," Tabitha age 12, Student, Singer, Musician and Soccer player.

Extreme Makeover-Family Edition

2012-10-11T08:58:00.001-07:00

Don't judge me until you see the before picture. A few years ago I decided we (as a family) needed a little help in the looks department. I know I'll get a lot of flack for the kids' surgeries. But honestly, all it took was a few surgeries, a few near-death complications, a few years recovery and we finally emerged as we appear today (with only minor lasting side effects).

Before:

After:

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A Hart Hall Thanksgiving, Nelson, BC

2012-10-08T12:47:00.000-07:00

Just returned from the Kootneys, British Columbia. We stopped at my sister Theresa's for a Thanksgiving feast. My sister Miranda and her family also joined us.

Theresa recently bought and restored a historical hall. She opened up her Veterinary clinic on part of the main floor and the second floor is dedicated to a massive hall and kitchen--perfect for hosting parties, suppers and dances. Her new clinic is amazing. High ceiling and big windows keep it well lit.

It is now home to my darling Pyewacket--the cat we rescued from a tree in the forest behind my home (he'd been stranded for a week). I couldn't keep Pyewacket because my bully bog Pablo would probably have killed him. My sister said she'd take him to her clinic and find him a good new home. Well, guess what? Pyewacket wrapped his magic tail around her finger and she could not part with the handsome boy. So , Pywacket is now her clinic cat. I will blog and tell the true, amazing story about finding Pyewacket and our magical connection in an upcoming blog--maybe for Halloween, as he truly is a magical cat.

Enjoy the pictures of our Thanksgiving at Hart Hall. I admit to posting a few comical comments under a couple of the pics--I couldn't resist. I wanted to keep going, but thought I might offend, so there are only a few joke captions.

The meal was perfection: 3 antibiotic-free free-range turkeys, appetizers, casseroles, veggies,stuffing,desserts, lots of beverages. My sister catered it herself! She cooked everything for 60 people! This is a woman who works full time at her vet practice and manages all Hall tenants and activities.

The night included a talent segment. I have many pics of some of the acts. My talent was to lead the Thanksgiving guests to dance the Bachata to a song by John Lennon, Stand By Me. Too bad I was dancing and couldn't get a pic of that--everyone danced! It was great. I wish I lived in Nelson, Hart Hall would be shaking with my Zumba classes every night.

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Why yes, the butcher was out of turkey. However, the moose was a nice price.
Another bottle of vodka in the punch, no one will be the wiser .

Hart Hall? I thought it said Halston Hall. I'm here to see his spring collection.

Something's cooking, but what?

Whoot-whoot! The fruit punch is amazing!

Kelowna girls.

The party's getting started...

And how...

The kid has obviously not sampled the punch yet...

John, lost in a sea of young women, contemplates his political speech for talent time.

Get this woman some punch, and quickly!

Behind the scenes at Hart Hall...

Paul, Kyran and friends agree: that was awesome punch.

Watching the talent show...

Artemis and Pip

Nem and Tabs do a spoof on a Taylor Swift video.

Tabs and Rascal (her sax).

Nem and her violin.

Don't Stop Believing!

Justin Bieber for Prime Minister!
Bieber? I was talking about Trudeau!

Hart Hall at Thanksgiving.

Hart Hall

John Lennon really got them going...

Captain America has got to go...and bad.

The Queen and King of the ball make their appearance. Joop really needed a drink.

Blink and you'll miss me.

He thinks I'm pretty without any make-up on...

Carol and Kyran jamming. Artemis wants to sing...

Artemis and her back-up band.

Mist and Pip

Peter on top of the clean-up.

How Pyewacket Popped Into My LIfe

2012-10-08T12:11:00.000-07:00

In honor of Halloween coming up, I promised to tell the magical, yet, real tale of how a cat named Pyewacket magically appeared in my life.

Beautiful Silver (yes I miss him still--
but not the pee on the beds and leather sofas).

Pyewacket desperate for someone to hear his calls and help him get down.

Pyewacket crying high in the pine tree.

Pyewacket, my daughter Mist and me, an hour after his rescue.

I've been catless for about three years.They've been long years. I love cats. But then I adopted Pablo, my Boston Bull dog--a breed fond of killing small animals. Pablo sealed the deal--no more cats as long as he's my boy.

And then one day, last month, I took my girls to a pet store to buy dog supplies. My daughter Mist, insisted I walk over to the cat adoption centre to look at the kittens. I said no, it would be too painful as I really long to have a cat again. I continued on, remembering fondly cat kisses and the precious smell of their little foreheads.
It was painful, I truly wanted nothing more than a cat in my life, right there and then. So over to the centre I walked, to look at the kittens in the window. Seeing their precious faces made me long for a cat of my own even more. I told my daughters how much it hurt to be there, because I wanted one so badly. We left the store but the feeling of longing for a kitty to love, did not leave me.

We drove home and my girls immediately joined the neighbor girls on a hike on the mountain behind our home. Within a half an hour they were back. They'd discovered a cat, high in a skinny pine tree, howling. The cat was at least forty feet up in the tree.
A neighbor told the girls it had been howling since before the weekend (that would be a week). No one had been able to coax it down and the fire department wouldn't help.

I headed out with the girls to investigate (upper right pictures). There he was all right, unable to come down because the pine had no lower branches. The wilderness park is teaming with coyotes--he must have been chased up too high to get back down. Each night the coyotes must have visited the tree, making an evening escape impossible too. We called and called to Pyewacket and he called back but could not get down.

I rushed home to make a few calls. A neighbor-friend agreed to meet us there with his ladder. By the time we got back to the forest Pyewacket was gone. Our calls had finally gotten to him. He could not take the tree any longer and in his weakened state, he'd attempted to climb down but fallen. Our friend Dave, suggested we look in the grass, as he'd be too weak to get very far. Dave found him. His body was emaciated but he seemed to be alert and friendly. I took him home to my garage where I nursed him back to health with water in a syringe and wet cat food.

I (over the course of two hours) had wanted nothing more than a cat in my life, and then suddenly I had a cat in my home. Pyewacket was mine. Pyewacket was the most friendly, gentle boy ever. I fell instantly in love. It was as though I'd conjured him up and he appeared in a tree behind my house. I enjoyed every moment with Pyewacket, knowing I'd have to give him up eventually as my dog would most likely kill him instantly and Pyewacket could not live our garage forever. The neighbor who lived directly behind the tree where Pyewacket was stranded, stopped by to say he'd been hearing the cat howl for a week but could not find any way to rescue him. Pyewacket is magic. How can a cat survive for a week high in a tree?

Pyewacket has found a good home where I can visit him often. My sister is a vet. She said she'd take him and try to find him a good home with some of her favorite clients. So Pyewacket went to live in the Kootney's. But Pyewacket is magic--Pyewacket wrapped his tail around my sister's finger and she could not part with the dear boy. He is now officially the clinic cat of Cottonwood Falls Animal Clinic.

Vanishing Human Cultures

2012-10-05T07:55:00.000-07:00

One of the globe's vanishing cultures: A woman and children of the Batek peoples of the Taman Negara jungle in Malaysia.
Photo by Mix Hart, 2010

I attended a talk on Thursday night by Wade Davis. He is an Ethnobotanist and National Geographic's Explorer in Residence. His talk was about the vanishing human cultures around the globe. His photographs were stunning and fascinating portraits of cultures at risk around the globe.We understand the rate at which cultures vanish by the vanishing languages. Much like the vanishing wildlife, cultures come into extinction not by technological advances but by the destruction of their habitat.

Davis' opening comment was about an aboriginal culture that believed they had failed at life, as they thought they were not fully human because never fully assimilated into the modern world. For a human being to doubt one's humanness seems impossible, yet sadly, it exists.

In addition, Davis' information about the damage Christian missionaries have done to indigenous cultures was deeply disturbing. Even more tragic is the damage our governments continue to create, by raping our lands for profit (mining, forestry), with no consideration for the indigenous cultures who live their--soil, water, food supplies and wildlife are left poisoned.

The information below (in italics) is from my facts and opinion and was not a part of Davis' talk:

*In Canada, think tar sands of Alberta and the pipeline that Harper is pushing across the West to load oil onto ships in Prince Rupert, BC. Oil spills will happen several times a year and destroy the only temperate rain forest left on the globe (and home to the rare Spirit Bear population).*

I urge my fellow Canadians to put a stop to this Pipeline--there is still time.

However, there is always an element to any professional speaker that exposes the talk as expert story telling and self promotion. On occasion, it takes away from the true essence of the subject of the talk. I am sure it is difficult to condense the subject into an hour and a half talk, but I found his choice of subjects (from the cultures he chose to examine) exclusively patriarchal. I accept that yes, he is a male scientist, so it would have been more difficult for him to access the women of the cultures. However, I wanted to know more about the women, we as a humans, need to know more about the women. The only woman subject was a Tibetan nun (who, incidentally, I've just been reading about). And yet, her story was that of a woman escaping the patriarchal confines of her culture to become a reclusive nun.

There were times, I found his talk, too broad, containing some stories that I have heard before, from other sources.

Though, my overall impression was: that's my dream job!--traveling the world, exploring, writing, taking photographs and learning from indigenous cultures.

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The Professor and The School Girl

2012-10-04T09:28:00.000-07:00

This is Peter and Pippi before school, Pippi in her angora leopard beret and Peter in his "professor" ensemble. The outfit conjures up images of a British Professor, perhaps hunched over leather bound volumes at Oxford. The look is a favorite with our daughters. They always ask him to, "wear your professor outfit!"

October is proving to be an even more busy month than September. Every weekend I am away. This weekend my family travels to The Kootney's for Thanksgiving, next weekend is a Buddhist retreat here in Kelowna but I attend Friday and Saturday. And the following weekend I am in Vancouver at The Surrey International Writers Conference. The last weekend of the month is the introduction of Dharma Kids to the Okanagan (I'm the teacher/founder).
Peter will be away several times this month also for conferences in Vancouver and Seattle. Ya. Like I said, the month is a little crazy. And sometime in there I must get Halloween costumes together. My girls still don't know what they're going to be.

My youngest daughter has been home ill with a cold, stomach flu and fever all at once. Here's hoping she's all better by the time we must leave for the Kootney's tomorrow. My eldest daughters are catching a ride there today with my sister. Peter is at a conference in Vancouver. I guess it's just me and the patient, alone again today. It was exhausting yesterday, as she only felt well if her head was resting on me the entire day.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, my friends. I hope you enjoy the "Three Sisters" of the Iroquois Nation: Corn, beans and squash--true Canadian food.

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Dharma Kids

2012-10-02T09:24:00.001-07:00

The city I live in has very little Buddhism for children. Zero to be precise. So, this is my attempt to bring a little Dharma to the children of Kelowna. I'm not a nun or a monk, just a lay practitioner. However, I am a teacher, with lots of experience working with children. I'm all that we have for now--it's me or no Dharma Kids.

At the last retreat I attended with my sister (following the teachings of Thich Nhat Hahn), we decided that our children would truly benefit from regular Sangha meetings and mindfulness lessons. Thus, Dharma Kids was born. It may just be my sister and I, our children, my nephew ( yes, nephew, whether you know it or not, we need your genius to help out) and a few of their friends who come, in the beginning, but it is a beginning. I'm basing the hour on Planting Seeds teachings by Thich Nhat Hahn and the Plum Village Community. I am also throwing in a little of my unique teaching style: perhaps a little meditation dance...

I am excited to be the one inviting the bell for our first meeting. Inviting the bell during Sangha is a way for all to stop and listen to the Buddha within, calling us home--away from distractions and back to the essence of being at peace within oneself and the world. It is a very meaningful practice, so it is an honour for me to initiate this ritual.

The hour will include a little meditation, songs, games and fun. I'm looking forward to it. I have never taught Dharma before, so this requires much preparation. I've asked to be advertised at the Yoga House, CBC, Castanet, The Waldorf School and Urban Harvest. I'll try a few more places too. Let me know if you have any more advertising ideas. Wish us luck...

Metta

Namaste

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The Training of Pablo

2012-09-30T07:26:00.002-07:00

The following photos are of my daughter, Tabs and my Old Boston Bull Dog, Pablo. Tabitha has a special bond with Pablo. She insists she gets to take him with her when she leaves for University (many years from now). I said, of course.

I've had a difficult puppyhood with Pablo. He has special needs. His breed was cultivated to be fighting dogs. He has the instinct to act aggressively toward any other dog that shows any aggression toward him--he'll fight to the death. After seven solid months of vigilant and exhausting training, Pablo turns one year old. With his age comes wisdom. We've conquered some of our biggest training hurdles. He is extremely bright and learns quickly--this has contributed to the successes I've had in controlling his aggression. That and the Dogstra vibration collar pictured below. It's expensive but it works (in water too if we're in the lake). When Pablo goes into attack mode (towards another dog) I have to remind him to sit or come using the collar. I can now walk Palo and his dog-bro together again. They used to feed off of each other's energy and go ballistic every time we passed another dog. Not anymore, they heel and keep right on walking. If the other dog lunges at them aggressively, Pablo will lunge back but then I make him sit and stay until he is calm and we carry on.

Each day is a new day and I can never let down my vigilance as pack leader. Training a dog is like raising children; one doesn't master the job after a good year of dedicated work. The job is always there with new challenges and some old ones that need constant monitoring.

Although I agreed to let Pablo leave with Tabs, I am sure he will have become the absolute perfect dog and I won't want to part with him. However, I'll let him go with my Tabs, because, although she might like Pablo to be a part of her campus life, I'm sure good, old Mom won't be quite as enthusiastically welcomed.

* Have a beautiful September Sunday! I will post this and then wake up my youngest girls to walk down the mountain with me and the boys (our weekly hike down to the lake and back)--the mornings are cool enough now that Fernando (my black pug) can do the hike too, without over heating. My eldest daughter is out of town with a friend (helping at a Party for The Green Party--see you soon Mist!
Update: Just returned from the morning hike down the mountain and I am very sad to say that Pablo was horrible, just horrible *tears of frustration* He was determined to keep lunging at an aggressive Scottish terrier and refused to lie down for me to submit--tried to bite my hands. The training truly isn't over until its over--one no longer has a dog. Wish me luck as I realize our training journey has only just begun...sigh....sigh...weep...weep...

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Awesome Picture Books

2012-09-27T20:09:00.001-07:00

These are two of my very favorite picture books. Say Hello to Zorro by Carter Goodrich and Our Tree Named Steve by Alan Zweibel.

Say Hello To Zorro is an adorable tale of two dogs much like my two dogs. The relationship between the dogs is so realistic--anyone with dogs will enjoy the humour and of course my daughter Pippi (who loves dogs) loves this book too.

Our Tree Named Steve is a touching tale about family and nature. I am not a weepy person. I never have a good boo-hoo. But this little book blew me away. It is light and humorous and then, so unexpectedly, my heart was breaking. I actually had to cry when we finished reading it.

Parents, treat yourself to these two

picture books next bedtime. After reading
countless dreadful stories about your kid's favorite screen heroes, these are a couple of good books that you'll actually enjoy and your kids will too.

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Pip Dog Rides a Bike

2012-09-24T08:42:00.000-07:00

You can put your kid in lessons to teach them how to do just about any sport: skating, skiing, swimming...but biking is different. Biking raises the bar on parenting. Biking is something Mom or Dad has to teach. There are no lessons to drop the kid off at and pick them up from and then one day, they have miraculously learned how to ride.

If you live on a flat street with a flat drive and put training wheels on your kid's bike--well, maybe you get off a little easy. But that has not been my experience. My experience involves driving my kids to a flat area and running behind their bikes, back ache be damned!

I've spent late summer teaching our youngest, Pip to ride a 2 wheeled bicycle. We live on a steep hill, so it isn't as easy as saying, "just go and practice on our drive way." Either her dad or I drive Pip and bike to flat parks to practice.

I never learned with training wheels--I learned with my dad running behind the bike and letting go once I had balance. This is how I've taught my children. It is hard on the back though...

Did I mention the wee reward we offered each of our kids once they could balance on their own and ride for 1 minute without falling? We offered them a trip to Seven-Eleven to choose a small slurpee. It worked like a charm. I remember my eldest daughter seemed unmotivated to concentrate and steer independently. I thought she'd never be ready for me to let go of the bike. Then I mentioned the slurpee reward. That was it, she told me to let go immediately and she biked along as straight as an arrow, as though she'd been biking for years! Sometimes a little motivational reward goes a long way...

The Pip Dog has done it! She is able to ride a bike on her own.

The pictures are of Pip Dog practicing on a ball diamond--the very best place to practice: smooth, flat and not as hard to fall on as pavement.

Pip's soccer coach informed me on Saturday that Pip is no longer to be called Pip, but that she only responds to "Pip Dog" (Pip had told her coach this). Pip Dog it is.

Go Pip Dog Go!

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Ta da! I did it Mom!

Ambrosia of Japanese Anime

2012-09-23T07:17:00.001-07:00

My daughters range in age from teenage, to tween, to first grade. I am never more joyful than when I am with them, just having fun. Sometimes their interest vary, because they are at different stages of childhood. I like to make time for each of my daughters, to hang with them for a little while and experience the things they enjoy. The other night my teenage daughter and I created a themed supper together.

My daughter Mistaya is obsessed with Japanese pop culture. I've always had an interest in Japanese culture too. With me, my interest in Japanese culture stared at age six when we had a Japanese university exchange student named Misa live with our family. For Mistaya, it started when I first introduced my wee little girls to Hayao Miyazaki. She was still in preschool. I believe the first movie I got for them was Kiki's Delivery Service. It was fitting because later, when her youngest sister (Pippi) was learning to talk, she couldn't pronounce Mistaya and tried to call her Misty but it came out as Kiki.

Mistaya is now studying Japanese language at school and continues her cultural studies at home through her Manga and Anime collections. I was treated to an evening immersed in Japan with Mist this week. We made homemade sushi, sipped green tea and watched 2 Hell Girl episodes. Hell Girl is really dark--a little dark for me. But our yam rolls were wickedly good.

Mistaya and our sushi feast

Mistaya and her favorite shushi rolls (yam and avacado).

Our homemade Green Dragon yam rolls.