I’m still not entirely sure what to say about Burning Man, nor what pictures to show here. My heart is full of love and gratitude. We have endured and celebrated nature, the elements, life, humanity, friendship, silliness, joy. My impressions of Burning Man are swirly and colorful.

Nevada desert on the way to the playa

Sunset after a brief rainstorm

I am so glad we went, and especially glad that we camped with so many wonderful friends. Our campmates were super fun and very patient with our small taggers-on. They helped us look out for the boys, entertain them, and graciously shared their “space yogurts” (yogurt in a tube) and other goodies that were novel and exciting. Two friends even volunteered to babysit one night so Ian and I could have a much-needed date!

Our children were brave in the face of not only a hostile environment but also a Saturnalian one, where grown-ups generally don’t behave as usual, where instead they act silly, dye their hair pink, dress in funny clothes (or none at all), and spend their time playing, adventuring, or lazing about. It was a place where you might gleefully talk with strangers and give a made-up playa name just for the fun of playing at being someone else. Best of all, our boys got to see that play is for everyone, that all human beings need long stretches of time to do nothing, or only what we want to do, and that these moments are crystalline and pure. Climbing, running, jumping, dancing, flying kites, making friends, laughing and telling jokes, creating art, falling in love, being—these are the things that make life worth living.

Lucas climbing a pole on top of the Nexus nightclub

Super fun Genesha art car that passed us by one day

A dust-weary Asher, me on the afternoon of the burn, and our dashing Agent Daddy

Lucas fearlessly walking a tightrope about 10 feet off the ground

This tuna art car drove by during one of our family bike outings

Asher’s very first kite-flying experience; hold on tight!

My boys playing boccie ball

Decorating our parasols like jellyfish; Lucas jumping on a trampoline; Asher dancing with the Salmon of Knowledge

Lucas and Asher also got to see, and we ourselves were reminded, that challenges are worth facing because the rewards are often great. Braving our fears or walking out into the unknown is our task, our surest course to learning who we are and what’s important to us. By purposefully venturing into a desert of nothingness, we fill it with our hopes and dreams and remake ourselves. I watched both of my children, in their own individual ways and according to their ages, encounter their limitations and push past them, gaining confidence and respect along the way.

It was a different kind of Burning Man for me and Ian. Having our kids along was a ton of work and we spent much (most?) of our time making sure that their needs were being met. Keeping two sensitive children safe and happy, hydrated and fed, rested and slathered with sunblock in the desert is pretty much a constant effort. Ian worked ceaselessly to take care of all of us. There was a lot less aimless wandering just to see what there was to see. There were moments I felt despair because I thought I was missing all the fun, but mostly I let that fleeting feeling wash over me and away, and we managed to relax into a new kind of Burning Man experience. We got more sleep this year on the playa than ever before, thanks to the boys’ tuckering out and needing to be home and in bed fairly early. We ate like kings, with lots of fresh produce and barbecued tri-tip dinners. We spent more time near and in camp, which meant time together as a family and with our peeps. We let Burning Man come to us much of the time, and the sweetest folks wandered into our communal shade and spent time with us. Our camp gave out water, drinks, food, advice when it was asked for, a place by the fire, and generally enjoyed that special/sacred hospitality relationship. To all the desert beauties that we met, thank you! You’re my little potato.

Lucas is VERY happy to have seen the Man burn this time! Here he is after the burn on Saturday night. I’ve never been in such a whiteout before! For long moments the Burning Man disappeared from view completely, then eerily reappeared through the waves of flying powder.

The truth is we saw a teensy-tiny slice of Burning Man, maybe 1 percent of what was out there. However, what we saw was wonderful. We are tired and a little sad to have to resume normal life now that we are home again. We are loving this breathtaking miracle called running water. My thoughts are dreamy and I feel like I need a rest after my vacation. I feel a creative pulsing in my veins.

All in all, Best Family Burn Ever.

I have long coveted the window stars I’ve seen at the Waldorf school and in photos. I bought a book of how to make them a while back and got so overwhelmed by the complex instructions that I didn’t attempt one for a year.

Eventually, in my combing the Internet, I stumbled upon the right kind of transparent “kite paper” and bought it. My paper is square, so I can now make all the stars that require squares.

Many of the stars in this book require rectangular tissue paper cut to specific sizes and I haven’t tried that yet. I guess my rotary fabric cutter would do the job, but I don’t know if that would be bad for the cutter.

This star was pretty easy to make, although I had to ask Ian help me figure out how to assemble the five points into the star. It was confusing because the instructions were wrong in a couple of places. The book could use a good editor in its next revision, I think! Still, I’m looking forward to making more of these. They’re pretty.

Our prep work has begun for Burning Man 2010! Yesterday Ian cracked open our Burning Man totes for the first time in several years. This dusty job starts with an inventory of what’s in there, what still works, what needs repairing or replacing, and so on. There’s lots of dust. Lots of list-making. And lots of “Oh wow! I forgot about this!”—not surprising, considering we haven’t been to the playa since Asher was but a bump in my belly (2006).

Asher especially enjoyed the old rainbow umbrella and the wacky glasses Ian pulled out of the totes. Alas, dear Internet, I cannot show you the rest of his “outfit.”

While I have some trepidation about taking my littlest boy out to the desert for a week of experiential silliness and irrepressible elements, I’m starting to get the inkling that he’s going to have a rad time. Outrageous flamboyance  in his genes.

We all had a wonderful 4th of July holiday this year, with swimming, friends, barbecue and yummy food, and fireworks of course. I didn’t feel like pulling out the camera until nighttime. Maybe it was the good conversation, maybe the perfect temperature of the swimming pool …

After dark, the Fire Sprites appeared and colorful shenanigans ensued. Some of them were so fast and so flighty that it was nearly impossible to capture their images. Often, the best I could do was to photograph their fiery flight paths and trails of sparks.

And then some of the Sprites became so tired from all the flitting about, they fell asleep. Yay America!

Happy Independence Day!

Because photo posts please me, here are some scenes of summertime. Hope your summer is shaping up beautifully!

Dandelion tossed into the creek, where it spirals around and around

Mountain wildflowers

Lush meadows filled with every imaginable shade of green

Sand and rescued ladybugs

Cabin’s looking pretty spiffy these days

My lilies just keep blooming like mad; they put forth such effort!

Lots of swimming pool time with Miss Brittany

Pink and green hydrangea buds

California sycamore shade and hot summer skies

Last Friday night I had a feverish dream inspired by a blog I just discovered: Twig and Toadstool (http://twigandtoadstool.blogspot.com/), where they spent a lot of time preparing for and celebrating the Summer Solstice. I was feverish because I was ill with a virus, but the inspiration worked its way into my dreams all night long. All night I wove a sun; each time I woke and fell asleep again, I slipped right back into the weaving. I could feel the yarn in my fingers, the sticks, the wool. And so, when I awoke, I knew we had to MAKE this thing I had dreamed about.

I gathered some sticks from the local schoolyard and supplies from home, and did some shopping on Monday. I fastened the center together by wrapping it with floral wire. I also wired the edges in an effort to keep the sticks from shifting during the weaving. I think it worked well.

And then before and after our Solstice dinner outdoors, Lucas and I worked on our giant sunburst, which is a lot like a Ojo de Dios (God’s eye), but has eight rays and not four.

Lucas was a big help with weaving the center, especially. Isn’t it beautiful?

We took a break to eat my yummy corn salad, spinach salad, and Daddy’s amazing tri tip.

Sunshiny squashes, organic tomatoes, and iced tea graced our table. Must be summer!

Here comes the SUN! The art project took all evening, but we finished before the sun went down. Lucas held it up high in the sky so I could photograph it. Then we hung our sunburst on our house, where we can see it from the patio. We spend a lot of time there when it’s warm, and our boring beige paint looks better with some colorful art.

We used $1 ribbon spools in red and orange, a bit of mama’s thick cotton rug yarn, raffia, yellow fabric scraps (with rocket ship pattern that you can’t see) tied into a long strip, and acrylic yarns in yellows, gold, and orange. I wish I had had an excess of yellow or gold wool roving on hand to use in our sunburst, but I didn’t. We also had on hand several colors of nylon twine (including safety orange) but elected not to use them.

Honeydew melon with mint and lemon sorbet served as a delicious dessert. I don’t know how that watermelon ball sneaked in there. Chef Daddy deserves the credit, I presume. He’s brilliant, as always.

Asher didn’t care for the art project much, but enjoyed snipping bits and pieces of yarn with scissors, and running around with sticks (guns/weapons/swords/knives. Can’t stop him despite my pacifist leanings!) Besides preparing dinner, Ian made a finger-woven chain to add to our sunburst, but for a while, it was “Action Inja” Asher’s headband.

So, welcome Summer! May it be full of frolicking, fun, fiestas, and good fortune. May it be full of right action, deep breathing, generosity, and abundance. May it be patient, low-stress, and l a z y -good. Blessed Be.



King Sun he climbs the summer sky

Ascending ever higher.

He mounts his gay midsummer throne,

All made of golden fire.

His flowing mantle, flowing free,

His shining gifts he showers

All golden on the earth and sea,

On men and beasts and flowers.

— J. Aulie, from Summer, A Collection of Poems, Songs and Stories for Young Children

This man is my best friend and the most wonderful father in the world. We love you, Daddy!

My Mother’s Day weekend was delightful! It was full of flowers, yummy food, a pedicure, and art. My family lavished attention on me and we were able to do things I really enjoy.

Like take a trip to Capital Nursery to buy roses for me and Mother’s Day presents for my mom and Ian’s mom.

Of course, I had to drool over the selection of clematis vines. Must have one soon, but how do I choose?

Here is one of the roses we came home with; it’s called “Daybreak.” I’ve really been wanting an apricot rose! I got three other new roses: a pink one called “Passionate Kisses,” a second “Hot Cocoa,” and a violet rose called “Wile Blue Yonder.”  We bought my mother a yellow rose called “Monkey Business” and bought Ian’s mom a lovely hanging fuschia with pink and red flowers for her shady patio. Fuschia flowers always make me think of little ballerinas.

Then my sweet hubby planted my roses for me, after I picked out where they should go. Poor Ian! He used to think he’d never have a yard so he’d never have to do yard work. Then he met me.

Asher practiced some new skills, like climbing up the slide. He mentioned something about one of the other boys at preschool doing it…. Lucas played with his new tennis racket and fetched mishit balls from the neighbor’s yard. We weeded and planted vinca and red and pink iceplant in the troublesome spot in our front yard flowerbed in the hopes that it will hug into the little hillside and make it prettier.

We also did a fun art project that I’ll write about later.

Raindrops fell just as we were finishing up the gardening so we all went for a dip in the hot tub in the rain. It might have been peaceful and romantic if not for all the water monkeys splashing around! Ian painted my toes for me while I read a magazine and drank a cocktail. Bliss! Then we went visiting, to deliver our Mother’s Day gifts to our moms.

So you see how well I am treated, how well I am mothered?

To all the people in my life who have mothered me, inspired me, challenged me, picked me up after I failed, taught me to take good care of myself and others, who modeled self-worth, strength, and courage, who are dedicated to their own ideals and pursuits of happiness, health, and making the world a better place, who have taken care of those I love—I honor you and THANK YOU. Mothering is a calling, a practice, a crucible, and a responsibility, and we all do it—female or male, with children of our bodies or without. It’s an expression of our humanity.

I hope your Mother’s Day was as lovely as mine!

Round the May Pole Now We Dance
Nancy Byrd Turner

Round the May Pole now we dance
(Over with blue, under with white),
Wind’s in the ribbons, oh see them lift!
Light’s on the ribbons, oh feel them shift!
While we braid overhead
Colors fair and bright!

Round the May Pole gay we move
(You with your ribbon, I with mine).
The colors cross and the pattern grows
(Over with red and under with rose)
On and on, till we’re done.
See the tall pole shine!

Who doesn’t love rainbow ribbons against a blue sky?

Lucas skipping with his classmates. The second graders blessed the circle with their May song and bouquets of flowers.

The girls gather their ribbons.

Eat your heart out, Degas!

Aren’t they lovely?

So precious, so rare. Every year, it is such a gathering of joy and celebration of spring, of life, of beauty, and of youthful promise. I’m grateful to be a part of this community, and the festival makes my heart sing.