Letter to my children: Limbic Hijacking

Letter to my children: Limbic Hijacking

The bus squeals as it comes to a stop at the end of our road. I am clutching the mail for the day. Dragon, hops off the bus and proudly announced. “Momma, I made it to level six!”

Is he talking about the computer game? “That is so exciting, level six of what?”

“Mooom, of Gravity Run!”

You are SEVEN! Your brain is barely functioning. Why are you playing video games at school?!

“Of course! Congratulations!”

“My goal is to get to level 20.”

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Eating a Porcupine

I woke up on a recent Saturday morning excited for what the day would bring. For over three years Dragon and Bean have regaled me with their nature camp stories: carrying fire in mushrooms, bobcat dodgeball, making birchbark canoes, dying cloth with black walnut pods, whittling dos and don’t, fox ears, owl eyes, etc etc. Last month’s adult class included whittling and cordage made from the inner bark of basswood - right in line with what I expected from my children’s stories.

The second session we were greeted by a porcupine who had recently (that morning most likely) been hit by a car. Not only that, but we had a guest teacher who has spent the last few years becoming quite adept at tanning and processing roadkill. It seemed as though the Universe was nudging us in a certain direction.

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Letter to my children: This is not normal

Letter to my children: This is not normal

Dearest Beloveds,

I was calling as a volunteer for the Harris campaign the day before a rally. Our job was to tell people who had signed up for the rally three pieces of information: where the rally was taking place, when the doors were opening and closing, and that an email would be sent to them with more details. The email was going to be sent out within 24 hours of the rally. The email with directions, shuttle information, ADA information, etc etc etc.

When one of the volunteers asked why this information was being shared so last minute with the participants the answer was succinct. “Security concerns.”

Everyone understood - because “security concerns” have become normalized.

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Letter to my children: Safeguarding childhood

Dearest Beloveds,

Gone are the days of midnight feedings and chasing you around the kitchen - more physically taxing situations. Now I seem to spend a lot of time with mental situations. Where I need to figure out how much to share about the bigger world around you. It feels more and more that my job is less to tickle you and more to act as a buffer for your curiosity and fears as we enter the big world together.

Questions such as “How much does this cost?”

“Do we have enough money?”

“What are you all talking about?”

I don’t want to burden you with things like taxes and the minutea of your Mother’s health shenanigans. I also don’t want to lie to you.

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Letter to my children: Technology will not save us

Letter to my children: Technology will not save us

Dearest Beloveds,

When I was in my early tweens I came home from school after a parent presentation from Senator Al Gore about the J curve and global warming.*

I was very upset and Baba took me on a walk. “Dad! There are too many people on this planet and not enough resources! Did you know there is trash in the ocean? There is rain that has so much acid in it that statues are MELTING!”

I remember him taking a deep breath and turning to me. “Don’t worry, Corinna, technology will save us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, there are very smart people out there who are working on this now and it will be okay.”

My beloveds, I am never going to tell you that technology will save us from the mess we have made on our Mother: the Earth.

There are three reasons why: 1) the physical needs of technology directly harm the earth 2) technology separates us from the present moment 3) technology is the latest iteration of human supremacy that created the schism in the first place.

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Letter to my children: How to model safe rule-breaking

Letter to my children: How to model safe rule-breaking

Backpacks were shrugged off as we reached the end of the gravel lane. Bean declared to her brother, “I look on the left - you look on the right.”

“I always look right!”

Let’s stop this before it balloons. I interjected, “I will look both ways too,” and waded onto the domed center of the asphalt road. High stepping with the thrill of illicit I called out as I scanned the horizons for cars. “Why is it so much fun to go into the road?”

The crickets sang to us from the tree line.

“Because it is cheating!” A big grin split Dragon’s face.

I laughed. “It is cheating.”

He continued, “because you are breaking the law and nobody knows!”

“I hear a car, let’s go back to the side. Don’t run.”

We have a long stretch of straight road on either side of our lane where we need to meet the bus. At least half a mile on either side keeps us safe during the slow traffic times in the morning.

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Culling my Cloud Footprint

Culling my Cloud Footprint

Apparently when George Eastman invented the Brownie camera people did not understand why anyone needed a personal handheld camera. So he created a marketing plan and here we are 124 years later. People take pictures of their food for others to thumbs up on social media. Who knows what Eastman would think about that.

I understand wanting to have evidence of your life, your doings, your thoughts. That is, after all, one of my motivations to write letters to my children - but then I realized that my website, my postings, all of this is predicated on huge servers being kept cold with fossil fuels.

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Homesteading Middles: Unveiling Ferns + Cutting Sweetgrass = Slowing Down

Homesteading Middles: Unveiling Ferns + Cutting Sweetgrass = Slowing Down

I was once in the audience for a panel of diary farmers. ”It used to take 6 weeks to harvest hay and bring it into the barn. Now with machinery, it can be done in a day and a half. The funny thing is, it is not as though I am sitting twiddling my thumbs for the extra five and a half weeks that I used to take haying.”

I was thinking about this recently when mowing around bits of fern pushing forth in the grass. I will come back later with the grass shears and unveil the rest of them.

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Letter to my children: Rich vs Wealthy

Letter to my children: Rich vs Wealthy

Dearest Beloveds, as the two of you navigate the world of capitalism and your own want monsters - I want to reiterate a thought.

I just read Morgan Housel’s The Psychology of Money:Timeless lessons on wealth, greed, and happiness. My key takeaways are threefold:

#1 Compounding interest does its magic only if you give it enough time.

#2 The unexpected will happen and your life goals will shift.

#3 It is preferable to be wealthy than rich.

All three of these are important to grok as you grow. The first is a mathematical fact. The second is common sense.* It is the last nugget I want to expand.

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Letter to my children: Indoctrinating Capitalism and Driving Lessons

Letter to my children: Indoctrinating Capitalism and Driving Lessons

“Dragon, I am not paying for you to play with the digging tool. I am paying you to weed.” Argh, I do not like that sentence. Boss Woman Hat doesn’t feel good. But - I am paying him and he is faffing and he needs to learn this.

“Okaaaayyyy.” Halfhearted swipes recommenced.

I look over at his pile. Corinna, he is 7. Do not compare his pile with your pile. “Dearest, if you want to do something else. I understand.”

“No! I want the sword! We figured it out. I work an hour for four days and I will have enough to buy it with my own money.”

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