Parenting and Pedagogy: 3/1/15

I wake and have a cup of tea, but even that is a labor, to keep my eyes opened. I try to get a jumpstart with icy cold water on my face, it helps my eyes to not feel quite as hot and heavy from sleep. . . Then, I sit in the cushy chair, while my husband sits drinking his coffee nearby, our feet touching on the stool between us. We talk a bit about the day before or the day to come and then it is time to move.

Morning poem

Asleep

Coffee and cold water

Eyes still heavy

Quiet, slow waking in the still darkness soft chair morning

Stretch

Build sandwiches,

stuff backpacks,

Move

match socks,

wake children, wash hair

Pull on pants

Where are my red shoes?

Stop arguing.

Where's your coat it's only 15 degrees?!

Awake

One week ago, I took these photos. Lila and I spent the day at the sugarhouse for Sunday's boiling. It was a weekend like so many others in early spring, shared over generations, in both sides of my husband's family tree. I just happened to stop and take this photo of the sugarhouse itself last week, because I thought I might share it with students at school. I knew this weekend would be busy and I was feeling sad Lila and I would not have much time to spend sugaring.

This weekend, my boys headed to Conway on Saturday morning to spend the weekend doing sugaring projects. Even when the sap isn't running there are jobs to be done and plenty to keep the boys busy, so they were happy to go. I was committed to escorting Lila to a weekend of dance performances, and a plan to bring supper on Sunday afternoon when I would meet the boys, my husband and family at the sugarhouse with Lila.

Her show (Cinderella) on Sunday, was at 2 and I just got on the highway when my phone rang. A friend of my husband from the local fire dept was trying to reach him to see if he heard the news, a call had just come in for a fire at Boyden's Sugarhouse in Conway. My heart was racing as I tried to reach my husband. I didn't know till later his phone was hanging, in the pocket of his coat, on the mirror of his truck where he was splitting wood. Once off the highway, I pulled over to track down someone in town, and I heard the report, "fully involved structure fire."

Many thoughts came to mind. "Where are my boys?" I was not so much concerned they were in it, I was confident Howard and Jeanne would be sure they were safe, as I worried they were hysterically watching their beloved sugarhouse burn while adults bustled around them. I needed to get there. I also was alarmed to think of a fully involved blaze while my brother in law was boiling, is he ok? what happened? no way in hell he would let it go without a fight. . . over his dead body. . . when hell freezes over. . .

Little did I know he was inside at that moment about a foot or 2 from the flames with just a one inch pine wall between him and the blazing wood shed. He was holding fire from racing across the peak with a water hose, electric pump and his thumb and the very generous help of a passerby who grabbed the fire extinguishers and blasted them under the door at the fire on the otherside!

(these 7 photos of the fire and FD response came from Fireground 360)

They attacked the fire from the door where Howard was holding off the fire, trying desparately to keep it back away from the main operation. Howard talks now about the minutes (which seemed like hours) he spent planning the attack, while awaiting the fire department's arrival. He is humbled by the respect of the department, who followed his plan without question though it has been years since he held the title of Captain on the department.

True to form. Howard was quick to see the bright side of the story. Despite the loss of one third of the structure, the main operation was saved, and no one was hurt! I was never so greatful to see anything as I was to see the building standing with family looking on when I arrived. To look at pictures of the building engulfed in flames, it is just amazing that it was not a total loss. It is a wonder to think about the man holding a garden hose, a passerby offering help, Jeanne and her helper (a cousin's daughter) hauling out anything they could grab to save it from what seemed both inevitable, and impossible at the same time. Quick response from the local volunteer FD was crucial and yet the whole stream of events came together to say, not this sugarhouse, not this time. . .

Howard had a quick positive response to inquiries of a workbee the next day. He began seeking out folks he knew had skills he needed, but little did he know how many would seek him out on this day of blue sky, bitter cold, and optimism. Out of the ashes they rose like a phoenix, a beautiful sight after the fire.