The Runaway

My older girl is Little Miss Confidence. This is more than just a little bit surprising, considering her gene pool. It's amazing, at times difficult to relate to, sometimes it's useful because I send her to do the things I don't like to do. She's an inspiration for me oftentimes. Who wants to be outconfidenced by a four year old after all?

Other times, it's a heavy load to carry. Especially when you find yourself on a wide beach with an expanse of mudflats and no trace of your 4 year old.

We've done the drill - in calm explanation, in panicked raised voices, when I had feared for the worst. Yet still, she will run off. Not to spite, not to hide, just because she's confident to find her way. Yesterday she made her way to find my travel companions. She didn't find them and when I got there, there was no sign of her. But you know, she knows what to do: she went back to where we had parted, told the people who had done some felting with her that she couldn't find her mummy and waited. And of course, I came back there first, just in case she'd done that. I was full of fear and pride at the same time, and we had a very emotional moment.

With this emotion still very present, when I lost sight of her today (I'd gone back to fetch the camera), even knowing she was well looked after, did not calm my nerves. I walked for at least an hour and could not make out her shape, or the shape of the group I was looking for. Every minute I tried hard to remain calm and enjoy the beauty of the day and the location, there at the water's edge in the balmy pools of the low tide, she was with my friend and her husband, a better than usual 2 adults to 3 kids ratio; she was with her friend who she plays with intensely and who doesn't give her reason to run off, plus the newly reinforced rule no. 1 for the beach (do not run off at all, it's at least 20 times worse than pulling hair) was still very present. I knew she wouldn't run off, I knew she would be safe.

Yet as I walked the shoreline of the ever expanding landscape in front of me, I felt very small and helpless, and lonely.

Of course she was fine. Though she HAD wondered where on earth her Mama had run off to...

Postcard from Föhr - heatwave

It was "only" 24 degrees, but if you live in Scotland, this is hot.
Cubling asked to go home because she was too hot.
Luckily there's the sea and water and so we dug holes and castles, bathtubs and watt worm houses.

Any hotter and I'm positively seeking the shade.

This is not a child dancing, but trying to avoid stepping on the lines created by the watt worm. Pretty futile undertaking and thus she does not like the watt at all. Thanks to the Jugendhelfer (youth helpers) we made our own felted watt worms, then made a watt worm house at the beach. "Don't look down, look ahead only", helps too. We're getting there. It would be a shame to not explore this amazing tidal landscape for fear of watt worms which actually take flight with the water.

Postcard from Föhr - Watt/mudflats

And then, the sea disappears and a new world appears.
Cubling doesn't like it yet, but we're working on it.

Some of the photos remind me of the Norwegian/Scottish artist whose name I don't know. He put statutes of people into the beach in Norway and Scotland, some half covered in the sand. It looks cunningly like these photos.
Nature imitating art?

Postcard from Föhr - drawn in sand

If Föhr is one thing, it's the perfect place for children. Everyone cycles, the littlests go in trailers, and cars have an island wide speed restriction of 20m/h. There are endless activities for children, crafts, storytelling, walks, puppet shows. The sea meets the beach, the dunes meet the woodlands which are interspersed with picturesque reed covered houses. There is no litter, but lots of time. Fresh rolls for breakfast, local produce, a Sunday fishmarket and two yarn shops (one even has yarn from local sheeps, locally spun, locally dyed, locally everything).

The beach, a wonderland of high and low tide (you can walk the 5 miles to the next island at low tide), countless shells, digging running, exploring.
Today, the big kids decided to draw on the sand. A sun full of rays, a person, and a tree with lots of leaves. As for Snowflake, she wants to stand and walk. Alas she can't. The frustration, especially of seeing a 15 month old, a match in size, walking. Patience monkey, patience.

Bilingual Playgroups work. Really.

Roxana Soto of Spanglish Baby posted today about how successful and powerful a Spanish playgroup has proven to be. Her post reminded me that it's high time I give our own playgroup, the Kinderclub Glasgow a thumbs up.

I was more than sceptical when we started attending once I went on maternity leave. It's a large playgroup, with a minimum of 20 mums (and sometimes even a dad) and about 30 children attending. At first, I felt like the newcomer, the only person who didn't know anyone on the playground. Which, in fact, was far from the truth (I did know some people and just like me, there were other newcomers as I soon found out). My older daughter is reluctant to engage with large groups of children and it took months to see her interact with any of the kids. The parents usually have a chat over coffee and cake, which was lovely but I didn't see how this supported my child's bilingualism.

Almost one year on, I've more than changed my attitude. First up, the impact of attending a space where there are people, real people, who speak German is not to be underestimated. So far, Cubling heard me speak German to her, and English to everyone else. It was an oddity that I spoke German and there was no reason for her to follow suit. Suddenly she realised there were other people like me, and children who speak German too. It took a while to sink in, but the importance of this realisation is not to be underestimated (as testified by Cubling's reaction when she saw a German DVD that wasn't animated but had children speaking in German: "Mami, Mami, diese Kinder sind sprechen deutsch!!!").

Secondly, we made new friends. Smaller play dates have been organised, and on the days off, we often arrange smaller meetups too. No doubt that play dates in the homes of children work best - somehow a German space is as important as German people in it. Cubling knows which house is German speaking and which house isn't and she'll now switch and stick to the relevant language much more than ever. Just two play dates with one family markedly improved her fluency and willingness to speak German.

Thirdly, we had fun. I soon realised that Cubling wasn't all too keen to play with the other kids so I spent more dedicated one-to-one time with her than on other days, and this one-to-one time was definitely German as I didn't feel apprehensive to speak to my daughter in a language that those around me don't understand (as may happen at other play groups). It's the most natural environment for us to speak German and dedicated focused and engaged play time with your child is worth its weight in gold to support the minority language. We also had fun at cultural events of course.

Forthly, even the short group singalong at the end provided me with much needed singing material in German. The songs sung at the Kinderclub have become our favourites so that more fun time is spent in German at home too.

Finally, without doubt, Cubling loves going to the Kinderclub. Tired of nursery, not one to enjoy being at home, the Kinderclub is as popular as our weekly Nurture in Nature day. There has been many a Monday where I wasn't up for the treck to the other side of the city, but Cubling insisted that she wanted to go to the Kinderclub. So while I may not get what she likes so much about the Kinderclub (she doesn't play much with the other kids, and there's nothing she wouldn't also do at nursery), there's certainly no doubt in her mind that it's a fab thing to attend. And creating positive associations with German culture is simply the best way to keep the motivation going.

So bilingual playgroups in general and the Kinderclub in particular definitely have my tried, tested and approved badge.

(As have trips to German islands in the north sea with German only speaking kids... It's quite astounding. Must do more often)

Postcard from Föhr #1-4

Almost a week without internet connection, but I'm back online and can finally start posting virtual postcards from the north sea island of Föhr where we currently stay. There's a bit of catchup to be done, so here are some first impressions.

Pink Eco Warrior at Nardini's

Sunshine in Scotland or can we really go Solar?

For well over a year, I've been trying to get my head around greening our home in relation to energy consumption. We've done the obvious stuff to save energy - low energy lightbulbs, switching off, not leaving things on standby, wearing jumpers in winter (though we have to do that anyway as our house won't get warm), loft insulation (haha, half of the loft is not accessible, which kind of means that the impact wasn't, how should I put it, awe-inspiring). We're a pretty bad household only in relation to leaving computers on all day, ahem.

And I've explored every possible renewable energy avenue. It's not easy. My mind threatens to explode anytime I look into it. There's the Energy Saving Trust which in theory is a great one stop shop. They have helped a lot to be fair, but I still find it difficult to actually get my questions answered. First there was an online questionnaire, lots of phone calls, eventually someone came to the house and did the same questionnaire again. We got a letter back that basically said there's not much else we can do. Still no look at the roof or boiler system to see if there was an option for solar panels. The promise of free loft insulation evaporated in the 8 week waiting time - we got our energy provider to do it instead and they were quick.


So we headed the marketing card of a private company. Finally, someone had a look at the roof, and is talking business. Just that obviously, they have an agenda. They want to sell.

Our situation is tricky. We live in Glasgow, which isn't great for solar panels as you can imagine. On the plus side, our roof faces south and is mostly unobstructed. It is small and old, with a nailsick slate roof. Apparently we have space for 12 panels, and the investment should pay back in 10 years or so.


Or that's what the solar power salesperson says. They also say they can install the panels and that they can be moved if we need a new roof. At what cost, they can't say.


I'd loved to speak to someone in Glasgow who has had solar panels installed, to see if they do what they promise. If it's worthwhile, if it adds value to the house in case we need to move and don't lose our investment.


Then there's the ethical issue of the way renewables are subsidised. Because, our feed in tariff (that's the money we get back for renewable energy we use and the energy we don't use and feed into the grid) is subsidised by those who don't have renewables. It works like this: Energy companies pay me, as one with solar panels, for every solar power I use. That's how, over the space of 10 years or so, I get my investment back. They also pay me for energy created that I don't use. The money comes from energy charged to those who don't have solar panels, which usually means those without the money to invest or those who live in flats/social housing. Basically, I'm taking from people who are more likely to struggle with their energy bills. Hm. The system also encourages energy use during day time hours. While you get more for every unit fed back into the grid, you save roughly 11p extra for every unit you use (because you don't only get paid for your usage but also don't pay the unit from your normal energy provider). This means that people will be likely to use more, rather than less, energy.
Which maybe, just maybe is kind of ok if it's solar.


So here's the maths:
every solar panel can produce 205watts maximum. 12 panels will produce 2,200kw per year.
For every kwh used that comes from your panels, you receive 42.3p from your energy supplier, plus you save 14p which is the average charge for that unit if you had used it from your normal supply.
For every kwh fed back into the grid, you receive 45.3p, 3p more than if you used it for your own energy needs

12 panels, for our small 3 bedroom house (it's really a 2 bedroom house) should generate about half of our electricity needs.
Investment should be repaid in roughly 10-12 years, the scheme runs for 25 years, which means that there's a 10% return on your money (more than any other investment scheme) over 25 years.
You will need to change your energy consumption habits - you will have to try and use when it's daylight to get maximum savings.



As with everything, there's variables and no guarantee. For instance, I'm not sure if we can realistically use most of our energy during the day. I don't like to run electrical appliances when I'm out, say at work or shopping. I have no idea how rainy days or the 3 trees that may obstruct the roof in the winter months will affect the performance of the panels. Will we have enough panels to make it worthwhile? Will it increase the value of the house so that even if we moved, we'd still get our investment back?


So, after a year of research, there are still many questions. But we're getting closer to some answers at least.

Greenbank Gardens

Last weekend, we became the ultimate middle class family. We joined the National Trust for Scotland. £12 to get into Greenbank Gardens was just too hefty for a day visit, so we were coerced to join and made a mission out of trying to visit as many NTS places in the next 12 months as possible.

I'm quite looking forward to it actually.

The inauguration at Greenbank Gardens was definitely a success with the girls. Lots of smiles, and even some sunshine, mad running about on a lawn that felt like softest carpet, playing hide and seek, eating of grass and flowers by a certain 8 month old and climbing on a massive tree that the recent storm (hurricane?) had uprooted. I resisted the plant sale, which was wise, I can barely find space to plant out the veg I've grown from seed this year

Outdoor Challenge Monday? This wasn't a challenge really.

Southern Necropolis