Harry Potter and The End of An Era

Julia looked around her cleared out bedroom, threw an overstuffed plaid duffel bag over her shoulder, and grabbed the last book of the Harry Potter series to re-read in the car. This was the day we moved her into her dormitory at the University of Massachusetts in Amherst for the first time. She tossed her curly red hair and rushed past me. I said, "Jul, I haven't read that one yet." She responded, "Can't you read it on Kindle?" Biting my lip, I tried not to cry. I snuggled up to her face, standing on tiptoes, and instead of kissing her cheek, blew a raspberry on it like I did when she was a toddler. She scrunched her nose and giggled, like she did then. Only this time she was humoring me, knowing how dreadfully I would miss her. My firstborn was leaving home, taking with her a huge hunk of my life.

That was two years ago. Now Tommy, 18, is counting down the days until he moves across the country to begin work as a personal trainer.

When Julia was 8 years old, Tommy was 6. We had been homeschooling for two years already. 3 year old Anthony and newborn Jack required most of my time and attention. So when I had heard about a book about a young wizard named Harry Potter, I splurged on the hardcover at once. Wanting to give attention to all four children, I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone aloud from the rocking glider while I nursed the baby each night. Julia and Tommy sat rapt as Harry learned that his parents who had been killed when he was an infant were both wizards. Potter was invited to attend Hogwarts, an academy for wizard children. Locked up under the stairs each night, Harry was unaware that an owl was delivering him invitation after invitation to attend the school. Despite his muggle (human) aunt and uncle's attempts to destroy every correspondence, Harry was personally visited by Headmaster Dumbledore and Hagrid, a sweet giant, who escorted him to Hogwarts. Julia and Tommy appreciated the story more than the little ones. Bravely, they did not fear the evil villain Voldemort as much as they did Harry's nasty aunt and uncle. On the rare night that I was too tired to read, Julia and Tommy refused to allow my husband to take over, because "Mommy knows how to do all the voices." Thankfully, this was before they had heard the audiobooks, which utilized authentic Scottish accents in addition to British. My Hagrid sounded slightly like he was from Alabama.

The following year, we took a family trip to Europe, traveling between countries European-style on the train. To pass the tedious hours and to keep everyone relatively quiet, I read aloud from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Rowling's second book, while my husband walked the aisles with toddler Jack. Harry discovered his special talent of speaking with snakes when he communicated with a python through the glass in a zoo enclosure. Several days later during a visit to Paris' Parc Zoologique, Julia and Tommy whispered to the snakes through the glass, attempting to recreate the scene. To my immense relief, neither spoke parceltongue.

Book Three was released on the day we held a garage sale. Tommy and I took a break from haggling over prices to buy the book immediately. I started reading it as soon as the last customer had handed over their quarter. I read until I was hoarse. All of us worried together about the ominous Sirius Black hunting Harry, until we discovered that he was actually Harry's godfather, and we dreaded the dark, soul-sucking dementors. When playing together, Julia, Tommy and Anthony frequently called "Expelliarmus!" on each other, putting a spell on each other which caused them to drop their imaginary wands. We talked about the world of Harry and Hogwarts as if it were real, while going about our mundane muggle errands like food shopping.

Harry, and his friends Ron and Hermione became family friends. Harry's first girlfriend Cho coincided with Julia becoming a teenager. She was as interested in this new facet of Harry's life as she was in her own. Still children, the boys noticed a difference in their sister. Julia, Harry, and the Hogwarts gang were changing.

As each book came, even though the children were perfectly capable of reading it independently, they waited for me to read it to them aloud. Book 4 was long enough to keep everyone's interest during a 6-hour plane delay at a French airport. In fact, we even attracted other weary travelers who surrounded us as I read.

When she was fourteen, Julia picked up the original book and read it silently for the first time. It was the first book she ever actually enjoyed, she said. She devoured each successive book again and again, as did Tommy. By the time Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (6) arrived, I read the book to just Anthony each night. Tommy read it independently on the day of release. At the end of the book, when Dumbledore died, Anthony and I wept.

Book 7 arrived to much fanfare, as we all knew it was to be the final in the series. Harry Potter would graduate from Hogwarts and go off into the wide wizard world on his own. This was the last time we would spend with Harry, the Weasleys and beloved Hagrid. Julia finished the book first, then Tommy, then Anthony. I never read it. Reading it to myself seemed lonely. I was not ready to say goodbye to Harry and the gang.

Each of these books was turned into a film, and tomorrow night is the opening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part 2, the very last one. As always, Julia, Tommy and Anthony have tickets to the 12:01 showing. For the first time, Jack and I will attend with them. As sad as I was to take Julia to college, and to say goodbye to Tommy, I actually read the book this past weekend. It was time for me to face it: this part of our lives is over. Like Harry, Tommy and Julia must go off to begin their own, independent lives. Even if I had destroyed their acceptance letters like Harry's aunt and uncle (why didn't I think of that???), Julia and Tommy would grow up. They wouldn't need me to homeschool them, or read aloud to them, forever. It is what I and my husband always wanted for them, and how it is supposed to be. I am proud that they are moving away from the tight homeschooling community into a larger world, but I am not ready to close the book on them, or Harry. I look forward to reading these books to my future grandchildren.

A New Endeavor: Tell it To Lynne Lisa

I used to joke that I had an invisible sign on my forehead that said, "Tell me your problems," because strangers everywhere seem drawn to me. While I was chaperoning a field trip at the extremely crowded viewing platform at the top of the Empire State Building, a security guard honed in on me to alleviate the pain his two children (a girl and a boy) experienced during his difficult divorce. And there was that time while I waited for the single restroom in a cafe on 9th Avenue that a burgeoning actress asked my advice about whether I thought she needed a personal manager yet. So intent was she on getting my response (a complete stranger, merely waiting for a restroom), that she waited for me to finish and followed me to the counter while I ordered my salad. (My answer was "do you think you need a manager at this point in your career?" She immediately decided no, she wasn't ready. Another satisfied customer).

It used to feel like a burden on me, every time I left the house, having to bear so many strangers' troubles. But at some point I began to embrace it, realizing that there must be something about my face or demeanor which invites personal disclosures. Talking to people is always enjoyable for me. I love hearing about people's interests, jobs, families, and lives. If I can help someone by offering an ear, it makes my day.

Which brings me to my new endeavor: I have begun a course of study at the Institute for Integrative Nutrition in order to become a Holistic Health and Wellness Coach. Soon I will be able to assist people with their health and lifestyle choices legitimately. I will even be able to practice sitting down, not leaning against rest room walls and guard rails.

I look forward to meeting new people and hearing their stories. Hopefully, I'll be able to assist them in achieving health and happiness. In the meantime, I will be blogging more frequently about my journey.

Thanks for reading! Have a great day.

Unschooling on Vacation in Florida Part 1

The term "vacation" doesn't really apply to unschoolers, who are not regimented into a time schedule or specific learning space. But since our family has just returned from five weeks in Florida, and English doesn't have a better term for that kind of sojourn, I'll just call it a vacation.

What always amazes me is how much one can learn simply by stepping out of the everyday routine. We did not design an educational field trip. This trip was a celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. They invited my husband, my sons, and me to spend the month of February with them in sunny, warm Florida to get out of the frigid northeast winter. They rented a house off the internet in Jensen Beach on the Atlantic Coast and we just planned on being with my parents, hanging out by the pool, and playing on the beach.

We took this trip in stages. My younger sons, 11 and 14, and I left freezing NJ the last weekend in January, driving towards Florida. First stop: friends in Catonsville, Maryland (outside Baltimore). Aside from visiting with my delightful friends, we wandered through music stores and toured Baltimore. We spent half a day at the acclaimed National Aquarium, wandering from rainforest to arctic, then cheering on the trained dolphins as they leapt and splashed.

Leaving Monday morning, I drove south, watching our car's outdoor thermometer slowly creep up from 29 degrees in Maryland, to 36 in southern Virginia, and finally a balmy 56 when we stopped for the night in Charleston, South Carolina. The boys and I ditched our warm wool socks and left our winter coats in the car.

The following day we arrived in Jensen Beach, Florida where the temperature was 79 degrees! The home my parents rented was unbelievably large, beautifully decorated and filled to the gills with original artwork! At dinner, we discussed the quantity of the paintings on the walls, which sparked the boys to estimate how many. Younger son guessed 45. Older son thought the number was much higher, in the 70s. My parents thought there might even be 80. After dinner, the boys carefully counted every painting hanging in each room of the house, including the outdoor bathroom and discovered that everyone had guessed too low: 106 paintings! Most of them were done by Cuban artists. Fascinating. Surrounded by all this art, we felt as though we were living in a very comfortable museum. Along with the art were many books about Cuba, art, and antiques.
The patio housed the swimming pool and spa, and backed up to a nature sanctuary where many nature birds nested and fed. The boys photographed pelicans, cranes, and even a bald eagle.

And they swam! Living in NJ and having no pool, we don't have many opportunities to swim.
Little guy set a goal: by the end of the month he'd like to be able to swim 25 laps. Day One he swam three laps.

If you are keeping track, by the time we had spent one day in Jensen Beach, the boys had covered science, social studies, art, math, and physical education.

To Be Continued...

Infusing Foods with Magic and Love

I've just finished reading a novel combining the sensuality of cooking with romance, called The Cookbook Collector by Allegra Goodman. In the book, Jess (a vegan) pores over a collection of centuries-old cookbooks while falling in love with the curmudgeonly book dealer. Those ancient cookbooks relied on description and hand-drawn illustration, pre-dating mathematical measurements. Interspersed with the recipes, Jess found love poems using the words from the recipes written by the original owner. This book reminded me of the magical realism in 1989's Like Water for Chocolate. In that story, Tita sickened an entire wedding party when her tears of sadness over her lost love fell into the wedding soup. What do they have in common? Magic and love.

As a vegan cook, I am frequently asked what I use to substitute for animal products in my dishes. My usual half-joking response is "magic and love." As I think more about it, I discover that magic and love are the additives that turn all combinations of ingredients into meals. The alchemy that turns flour, oil and sugar into a fluffy, light cupcake is magical. But that is only one half of the equation. The best, most delicious foods are infused with love. I know it sounds new-agey hippy dippy, but I have anecdotal evidence that this works.

Last summer at Camp Common Ground, a vegetarian family camp in Starksboro, Vermont, I experienced this principle first hand working in the kitchen. Every afternoon at 4:30, I arrived to help cook and serve dinner for the other 130 campers. The rest of the kitchen staff, Karyl Kent, the coordinator, and Naomi, the head dinner cook, had been hard at work for hours. The instant I arrived, I was greeted with enormous smiles, hugs, and kisses. The vibe in that kitchen was all love. Some days, music poured from an ipod in the corner and there was singing. Some days, no music played but there was still singing.

Every night's meals began with whole grains and the freshest, most colorful locally-grown vegetables . Our bread was baked daily in camp's outdoor brick oven by Isaiah, a student of Qi Gong and truly loving person. Even campers who eschew carbohydrates in their daily lives could not resist Isaiah's hand-crafted sourdough loaves.

Naomi's expertise was preparing raw bright, crisp greens. She crafted healthy, delicious salads that were so tasty, people filled their plates again and again. Her secret was to massage the greens, infusing them with her positive energy and love.

Inspired by the vibe in Camp Common Ground's kitchen and Naomi's techniques, here is a simple kale salad that I make at home. I have purposely left off the measurements because in this recipe, intention and technique are more important than amounts. (Also, it feeds much fewer than 130 people.) Feel free to toy around with the dressing amounts until you are satisfied with the salad.

Asian Massaged Kale Salad
2 bunches crisp raw kale, washed
fresh ginger, diced fine
sesame oil
apple cider vinegar with mother
soy sauce
maple syrup
cayenne pepper
(raw almonds, raisins) optional

Whisk ginger, oil, vinegar, soy sauce and maple syrup and pepper together. Taste, adjust accordingly. With clean hands, pour dressing over kale. Massage well, until kale looks darker and slightly wilted. Add optional almonds and raisins. Allow to sit and marinate for at least 30 minutes before eating.
Serve alongside your favorite tofu recipe or a bowl of miso soup.

Sun-dried Tomato Hummus

I've been snowed in for several days with my husband and my kids, so I have been making lots of food. In addition to baking bread, I've had my crockpot churning out lentil and rice, marinara sauce simmering on the stove, and pasta boiling. But sometimes we all just want to grab a snack or make a sandwich, for which I made my simple sun-dried tomato hummus. It reminds us a little bit of pizza, it's that good. We spread it on bread, dip crackers into it, and wrap it up in romaine leaves.

Sun-Dried Tomato Hummus

1 15 oz. can chick peas
1/4 cup tahini
juice of 1/2 lemon
1 clove garlic
3 tbsp olive oil
water
2 tsp salt
7 sun-dried tomatoes, drained
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp dried basil

Combine chick peas, tahini, lemon juice, garlic, olive oil and salt in food processor until smooth. If lumpy, add water a tablespoon at a time and pulse until desired consistency. Add sundried tomatoes, oregano and basil and process again until smooth.

Garnish with: fresh basil leaf, slice of fresh tomato, chopped black olives, or chopped garlic.
Will last in refrigerator for several days.

Olive Rosemary Bread for my new Breadmaker

For Christmas, I received a bread maker. I can't for the life of me explain why I have never gotten one before. Seven people live in this house, and we all eat a lot of bread. Better late than never, I suppose.

My first attempt at bread failed. After that, I followed directions ex-act-ly from recipes I found on the internet for vegan breadmaker breads. No substitutions. No experiments. My results were much better for plain whole wheat, white, and oat loaves.

Feeling confident, I decided to use the same ratios of liquids-to-solids for the breads I'd already made and try my hand at an original olive-rosemary bread. While it was baking, the herbs scented the whole house. It turned out better than I had hoped. The kids couldn't wait to cut into it, but after an initial taste, I held them off long enough to snap a photo.

Lynne's Recipe for Olive and Rosemary Bread-maker bread (yields large 1/12 - 2 lb loaf)

1 1/2 c plus 2 tbsp.warm water
4 Tbsp. olive oil
3 tsp sugar
3 tsp salt
3/4 tsp ground black pepper
3 1/2 c bread flour
2 1/2 tsp yeast
1/2 tsp dried rosemary
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/4 tsp dried basil
1/2 c chopped pitted kalamata olives

Put in water, oil, sugar, salt, pepper, flour in order (or in manufacturer-suggested order). Make a well with finger in center of flour. Add yeast. Set machine for "white" or "basic" and "medium" crust. Start machine. After approximately 40 minutes ("rise"), add rosemary, oregano, basil and olives. Make sure all ingredients are added in (use rubber spatula to scrape any off sides or bottom).

Let cool. Slice. Serve with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, or sun-dried tomato hummus.

I Believe in You

In Tina Fey’s fourth Emmy acceptance speech, she self-deprecatingly credited her parents. “I want to thank my parents for somehow raising me to have confidence that is disproportionate with my looks and abilities. Well done. That is what all parents should do.” Tina Fey entered the precarious, male-dominated field of comedy. Her parents could have discouraged her. They could have told her she wasn't pretty enough, or talented enough, or that the field was simply too hard to enter.

My own intelligent 20 year old daughter, Julia, could succeed as a diplomat, an international business leader, and a network executive. Her work ethic is unparalleled and she has a multitude of skills and knowledge. She has a 3.8 at the University of Massachusetts with a double major. Her plan: to be a Disney princess! This is the same dream she had when she was four.

Is it a parent’s role to unconditionally support a child’s decisions? Or is it the parent’s responsibility to protect the child from making mistakes? I think it is my role to unconditionally support the decisions, regardless of my opinion of them.

Truthfully, I am nervous for her. It is possible that she won't make the cut. Maybe she will get a role but won't make enough money to pay her bills. I could tell her “That’s a frivolous career. You are too smart, serious, studious for that. Try engineering like Dad. Try accounting like your grandfather.” But I keep it to myself. To her, I say, “You’ll be an excellent princess. Let’s research how you can get a job in a Disney theme park."

There are plenty of people willing to squash a young person’s dreams. In the field of acting, there are legions of agents, casting directors, and other actors whose sole purposes seems to be to strip an actor of dignity and hope. There are well-meaning, loving people in my family, two of whom raised me (whose identity shall remain cleverly disguised), who helpfully encourage my children to pursue careers they view as more practical. But things have changed in our economy since their heyday in the 1960s. Prestigious careers of old no longer exist. Attorneys discourage their children from attending law school. Doctors warn to steer clear of medicine. All I know with certainty is that I will not know what careers will exist in five years. New careers crop up regularly. Just because we are adults does not mean we are clairvoyant. I can’t see the future. I can only see my bright, optimistic children, growing into adults.

Tina Fey’s parents could have suggested that Tina become a math teacher. Tina would still have loved them and probably thanked them in her acceptance speech. But they believed in their daughter’s ability to make her dreams come true. As a result, Tina has risen to the top in a fiercely competitive field. Against all odds, she is the Emmy-award winning creator, writer, and star of a successful network television show.

As a mother, I don’t have to believe in my children’s dreams. I have to believe in my children. There will always be well-meaning friends and relatives to burst their bubbles. I want to be the person who always, always has confidence in them. I hope if any of my kids ever win an Emmy, they will thank me for my unrelenting belief that they would make it.