My mother has done it again—produced a beautiful, perfect sweater for Lucas in less than two weeks. It’s his favorite color, turquoise. She used an acrylic yarn by Caron “Simply Soft” because she likes the way it washes and dries in the dryer. I like that, too, for my ever-muddy boys.

She used a seed stitch and a basketweave stitch—both of which are completely beyond my understanding and skill.

It’s wonderful having a grandma who make such beautiful things. My sons have drawers-full of handknit socks and a closet-full (they have to share one) full to bursting with grandma’s sweaters. Now if only I could convince the little guy that “fuzzy” is a good quality in a sweater.

Lucas and I have a shared knitting project going right now. Back before Christmas, we went to the yarn shop one day and he asked for gold and scarlet yarn to knit a Harry Potter Gryffindor House scarf for himself. (I know for a fact that Lucas makes a terrific Harry Potter.) I said no at the time, but went back later and bought him the yarn he wanted and gave it to him as a Christmas present. Then I suggested it might be fun for us to knit the scarf together, sharing the project as much or as little as he wants.

He jumped at the idea. He decided how wide it would be and what the stripes would look like: “Even, Mom. Even all the way.” We are just knitting garter stitch—nothing fancy. Although we started with 30 stitches, we now have 34. We have a couple of holes, too. None of that matters, though. What matters is that we are doing it.

So, we press onward despite mistakes and whatever.

The reason I suggested we share the project is so that he can have the experience of working on it and watching it grow. Lucas knits for a row or two and then puts it down. I knit to hopefully keep his interest in the project. I am thinking it will be rewarding and reinforcing to see the scarf coming along at a faster clip than he could do on his own. And he’ll be getting lots of practice.

We’ll file this under Experiments in Parenting, shall we?

Lucas is deep into his fourth grade animal report. He is actually done with all the hardest parts. The research is done, the report is written, edited, and the final draft has been done. It’s illuminated beautifully and lacks only an illustration and a cover design. Lucas consulted three books and a website to learn about the African desert fox.

These last two days before his deadline are dedicated to the art of his report. He has to model his animal in 3-D and create a diorama of the animal in its environment. We are working on how to make a desert scene.

Lucas also has to paint his animal so the painting can be displayed at the front of the class during his oral presentation. He considered watercolors but elected to use acrylics and canvas for his painting. I didn’t see anything in the instructions barring this option, so that’s what he is working on today.

He paints with a sort of flair, I think. I love this kid!

He has lots more work to do still, but I’m so proud of how he has approached this extensive, multipart, multimedia project. I am proud of his skill and his artistic eye. I’m also delighted with how easily the writing portion went. I watch him unfolding and expanding and becoming more every day with astonishment and gratitude. Imagine—this amazing, soulful being came to us! And I am honored.

This is my mantel for Christmas. Although I don’t buy new decorations every year, I do try to think of new ways to display them. I’m pretty happy with this one; it’s simple and sweet and repurposes some old items in a new way. In front of this hearth is where my children draw and play with Legos nearly every day.

I used an old store-bought (plastic?) garland of “greenery” and added our collection of Waldorf woolen angels. I think we’ve received one wool angel per year for the last six years or so. They didn’t go up on our tree this year because our tree is smaller than usual. But I couldn’t not put them out. I think they look terrific in a group this way.

I indulged in buying one new Christmas decoration this year: a box of 15 straw star ornaments for $7.99. I adore them. They are so intricate and pretty, and look just right here.

The truth is I have materials for making such straw star ornaments, which are a traditional German Christmas decoration, but I haven’t had time to sit down and try to figure out how. I have a package of natural color straw and red straw. I have gold thread and red thread for tying off intersections in the stars. I secretly hope to have a few free hours to play with this, however, I admit I’m doubting I will. It looks really hard to me.

This is the nativity scene that my grandmother bought me about ten years ago. It’s porcelain and fancy and very colorful and, although I never would have bought it,  I love it. Each year when I unwrap it, I say a silent prayer and hope that we don’t accidentally break it. After Christmas I carefully pack it back into the original box in the hopes that it will be safe another year. It is sitting on a cloth I wove myself.

These are my “Waldorf” resin angels. I bought them at a craft fair a few years back for $6 each. I call them Waldorf because they are faceless. In the vase are dried daylily stems from my garden. I collect them as they dry out because they’re interesting to me and I’m always trying to use found natural items in my crafting. Ian thinks I’m nuts because I save these, especially as I usually don’t have any idea how I’m going to use them. The group on the right is still merely rubberbanded together. I like that they are so tall and so bleached out.

Today I saw a blog with the most amazing Christmas decorations I have ever seen. The home that was featured was so exquisitely beautiful it looked like a whole team of stylists were on staff full-time and that no one lived there at all. There wasn’t a single item out of place or bit of evidence that a child even walked through. It was glitzy and glamorous and completely soulless. It also looked like entire villages of people could be fed for months on what was spent to decorate that home, and that realization made me feel rather ill. Frankly, it was obscene—a word I don’t use lightly. That display of wealth and glitter made me feel so weird and conflicted that I almost didn’t write this post about my nifty mantel that I hodgepodged together. I mean, isn’t this the same kind of thing on a “poor-girl” scale?

Aesthetics are highly individual. Surrounding ourselves with art and beauty is one of the pleasures of life. Doing so lifts my spirits and helps me to feel like I’m raising children in a happy, intentional home. The creation of and appreciation for art is a celebration of our humanness, one of the crowing jewels of humanity. I don’t need or desire to be judgmental about the way that other people express themselves. I just know that if I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be using it that way. I’d be feeding people.

It’s a domestic arts day. The rye bread dough is rising. Next I’m moving on to the cookies. My friend G gave me persimmons this week and they are beautifully ripe and squishy. So I’m making persimmon cookies to share with friends this evening. I get to spend some time with some of my favorite women in the world tonight to mark a momentous occasion, make some magic, and have a feast together. My heart is full today of memories of wild nights in the woods and adventure, and also of quiet moments in the kitchen with a beautiful mentor. I’ve lit my baking candle and it’s glowing near the dough to warm and encourage the yeastie-beasties to make their happy bubbles, just like she taught me to do.

My boys are out right now, buying supplies for the elving they are doing. They have big, manly plans for working in the garage and I’m told I must keep to myself today, lest I ruin my surprise. This feels just right to me today. My heart is full of my women near and far, and I cannot wait to be surrounded by them tonight. It’s been too long.

In mid-November I went back to my painting class after a two month hiatus. I had to earn some dough before I could return to class. In the time that I was away from it, my stress levels soared, I got depressed, and things looked bleak. I’m not saying all of this was related to not painting—there was plenty of other stuff going on. But I remember thinking during all of that, I just want to paint. I yearned for it. I decided for the sake of my mental health that continuing my classes was good for me.

And it is. I’m now three more classes in and I’m still loving it. This is a series of three paintings of a copper kettle. The first was the black and white one above. We were instructed to use only Payne’s gray and white. The point of the study was to focus only on value and not on color. I have a lot to learn about this, but value is the relationship of dark and light. With the two paint colors I mixed a middle gray, then a light gray and a dark gray.

Modern Color Wheel from My Class

Goethe’s Color Wheel (for Fun and Because It’s Pretty)

After Thanksgiving we were given a new exercise: Paint the same subject in basically the same position on the same background using complementary colors, which are opposite on the color wheel. When mixed in equal proportions, they should create a neutral gray. I’ve learned that in painting “gray” is not so specific a shade as it is in my mind. There are lots of grays and, well, isn’t that wonderful?

This second study above was painted with a blue-green and a red-orange. All the colors you see were mixed from those two and then tinted with white to ultimately fill my palette with 15 different colors. My kettle wasn’t in the exact same position as in the first study, but the effect is the same. (I just noticed there is a diagonal shadow in the bottom right corner of these photos. That’s not in the painting; it’s in my window and the photographs.)

This one is last night’s study: same kettle, different exercise. The point of this study was to use three colors from the color wheel, a triad. (A color scheme in which three colors of equidistant distribution on the color wheel are used, e.g., red, blue, and yellow.) We could pick any three, so long as they had the right relationship to each other. I chose green, orange, and violet. I mixed and mixed these three colors and then tinted with white to get roughly 17 colors on my palette. Just doing this was awesome. I also had three goals in mind when I was painting this third kettle study: 1) paint a little faster, 2) paint thicker (use more paint), and 3) take more risks.

Now, this copper kettle isn’t exactly the thing I want to have a painting of in my home, much less three paintings. But this was a fascinating exercise and I’m so glad I did this. I have a much greater appreciation for color and mixing than ever before. Also, I no longer feel that every painting has to prove anything. The doing of it was the thing.

These are my fellas in their Halloween costumes: the all-colorful Rainbow Dragon and the Invisible-Like-the-Night Ninja. They were both pleased as punch with their costumes.

This Rainbow Dragon costume is a great triumph for me. I sprayed with fabric paint a white sweat suit (used for last year’s Hedwig the owl costume!). It was slow-going with little pump-spray bottles and I did it over many days to let all the sections dry in between.

The day of Halloween — heaps of work and a family wedding prevented me from doing this any sooner — I sewed the tail, spine plates, and wings from a yard and a half of rainbow batik cotton. It was quite a feat of engineering for me and I was very happy to be able to show my design plan to my dear Ritsa, a magnificent professional costumer, and get her OK and encouragement. I feel like my spatial thinking and ability to plan in 3D is somewhat lacking.

Anyway, the tricky sewing parts for me were 1) threading the machine (as always), and 2) figuring out how to sew the spines into the single dorsal seam of the tail so that all the fabric was right side out. The spines/plates are stuffed with wool to make them puffy. To make the tail stand out from Asher’s body, I bent a coat hanger into an oval to set against his back with a long wire to hold the tail up. Thanks for the suggestion, Ritsa! Then I stuffed the tip of the tail with wool roving and the rest with plastic air pillows that are used for shipping. The result was full and delightfully lightweight, and I love that the tail curls at the end. The whole rig just ties around his waist.

I did a fair amount of inelegant hand-sewing, too. The wings are tacked on in four places each with sloppy stitches.The spines on the back of the sweatshirt are attached by running stitches almost an inch long. I really had to hurry to finish! I painted the mask with my trusty craft acrylics and stuck on sticky rainbow jewels. I literally finished this costume 20 minutes before we had to leave for our visit to the Pumpkin Path.

We had just enough time to get a few photos before leaving. I was so thrilled to see that Asher loved it!

Lucas had mentioned several times over the last year that he wanted to be a ninja for Halloween. As we got closer to the date, that decision wavered a few times. We looked at costumes in the Halloween store and he felt they were all kind of creepy. But then we found the ninja kit: Lucas got to buy a kit with a plastic sword and sais, a throwing star, and a fancy hood. We cobbled the other pieces of his costume together from his wardrobe and the thrift store. Ian dyed the belt blackish on the stovetop. I tell you, in the night, that kid disappeared!

The Sacramento Waldorf School Pumpkin Path this year was fun as always. The children went on a quest to find the pirates who had stolen King Neptune’s treasure. Along the way, they encountered mermaids, the Lady of the Lake, sea dragons, an explorer, a shark, and more. Some of Lucas’s and Asher’s classmates were in our group, so that was fun.

At each story station, the kids received a gift, such as a gem or a bit of soap or a seashell. There are few things in the world cuter than a bunch of kids in costumes.

The path was lined with jacks of all types and paper luminaries that glowed in the dusk. There were yummy treats to eat at the end.

Then we met up with Grandma and our newlywed aunt and uncle and some friends and trick-or-treated in our neighborhood. Lots of neighbors get into the spirit of Halloween and decorate with lights and creepy things. We finally visited a giant Frankenstein statue that Asher has been obsessed with for weeks. Yes, it is indeed a giant doll. Only a doll.

Sweet X was a shiny, sparkly dragon. Two dragons and a ninja!

The kids scored loads of candy, which we will soon be giving up to the Halloween Fairy. Asher couldn’t walk all the way home and fell asleep on Daddy’s back and shoulders.

We were greeted at home by our three Jacks and fell into bed, satisfied and happy.

[Shared with Saturday's Artist on Ordinary Life Magic.]

Last year, as part of our family’s Autumn Equinox celebration, the boys and I made an autumn wreath from clippings from our yard. It was so pretty and lasted better and longer than I had really hoped, so I thought this year I’d share a tutorial, in case you’d like to make one for your home.

Above is our wreath from today. I wish I could say my kids wanted to help this year, but they didn’t. Also, you might wonder why my Autumn wreath doesn’t have many autumn leaves in it. Here in Northern California the leaves haven’t yet begun to turn pretty colors. Today it was almost 100 degrees F. I found plenty of other bits with splashes of  color to use instead of autumn leaves.

Materials

* wreath base made of twigs or vines

* floral picks (short wooden stems with a wire fastened on one end)

* fresh and dried yard clippings (some examples: Japanese maple, pittosporum, nandina, rose hips, seed pods, dried or drying hydrangea, crepe myrtle, myrtle, dusty miller, mint, rosemary, autumn leaves, mallow, wheat ears, assorted shrubs, etc.)

Tutorial

A long time ago, I used to be a floral designer, but I promise you don’t have to have any floral design experience to do this project. Also, I should say that this is a seasonal wreath that will look nice for several weeks. It will not last forever, as the plant materials will whither and dry out. However, many will retain their shapes and colors. Since we won’t be storing this wreath for use again next year, we are free to construct it fairly loosely.

For my wreath base, I used a wisteria vine that I twisted into a wreath earlier this summer when Ian and I were trimming in the yard. Wisteria is leafy and pretty and nicely flexible when you first cut it and it’s fresh. We had so very much of it that I made several wreaths, which subsequently dried up completely. The first thing I did for my autumn wreath project was to pick off a bunch of dried wisteria leaves. You can see how the original green color of the wisteria vines has faded in the next picture.

Choose a single direction in which to add bits of plants to your wreath base. Trust me: You’ll be happier with the finished wreath if it has a directional flow. Mine goes clockwise. It is the direction of the path of the sun in the Northern Hemisphere, and since for me this wreath is a symbol of the changing of the seasons, I’m quite happy with clockwise.

All you have to do is stuff the stem end of your garden clippings into your wreath base, wedging it until if feels secure. That’s it. It’s not complicated at all, but you have to keep doing it until your wreath base is covered up with foliage and other items. I suggest that you choose sturdy kinds of plants to cover the base and provide a foundation for the colorful and more interesting parts to sit on. For my wreath, this was pittosporum. It stays intact as it dries.

Now add lots of variety to your wreath, using the same technique of inserting the stems into the twisted wreath base. Try to find foliage in a variety of greens, reds, and yellows and with a variety of leaf shapes. Keep working in different places all around the circle, adding the same type of item in two to five different places on the wreath. This will help achieve a balanced look.

As the wreath fills out gradually, you can begin to add your showier items. Unusual shapes or colors, seed pods, flowers, or dried flowers all make wonderful accents. If you have plant items lacking a long enough stem, you can use a floral pick and wrap the wire around the item, securing it to the floral pick. Then insert the pick into the wreath base.

You might wish to choose a particular focal point on the wreath. Often this is either the bottom center or the top center of the wreath. Place some of your favorite plant items there.

I chose plenty of imperfect items for my wreath, such as leaves with blemishes, flowers that were long past their prime, and fruits (such as rose hips and lantana fruits) that would normally be trimmed and discarded. I wanted to capture this moment in time, this beautiful juncture between the seasons that is the equinox. My garden is a study in paradox right now, with some plants blooming like gangbusters and some going to seed and drying out. To me this is quintessence of the autumn equinox, and reflects the seasons as I know them.

You can make an amazing autumn wreath without taking too much of any one type of plant, too. For example, I clipped only three hydrangea flowers, four old zinnias, and only a couple of totally dried, brown gardenias. If you use just a little bit of lots of different plants, you won’t need to denude any one.

Here’s my finished wreath hanging about our nature table. It will change over the next several weeks as autumn wears on, which seems just right to me.

How do you honor the changing of the seasons in your home?

Our Sunday began at 4:45 a.m., earlier than we ever rise. We dressed, brushed our teeth, threw our things into the car, and then carefully transferred sleeping boys into the vehicle. We drove almost two hours up highway 80, heading toward Squaw Valley, California, to the Nor Cal Tough Mudder. Seriously, check out the Tough Mudder website here. You won’t be sorry you did.

Ian had been training hard for this event since May, when he decided to join our friends NoNo and Mars in this obstacle course extraordinaire, this crazy endurance “race” to benefit the Wounded Warrior Project, which helps recently returned wounded veterans. Yes, that means our dearest Daddy and darling friends paid for the privilege to test their meddle against 24 seriously gnarly obstacles designed to challenge both body and mind.

Our arrival at Squaw valley was a joyful, exciting time. Hundreds of participants and spectators milled about reasonably, filling out death waivers and promising not to sue. All Mudders recieved registration packets and race numbers, which were written on their foreheads and bodies for easy identification. One wonders whether they expect participants heads to separate from bodies—well, better safe than sorry.

This is team Burndoggle. As you can see, spirits were high before the start. Butterflies? Oh yeah! This is some crazy stuff, folks. We in the support crew, our dear friend Dakini and me and our two children, were there to take photos and give high fives and wishes of good luck. Honestly, I’m overjoyed that I got to be present for this. What a day! What a day!

An amazing, loving, superb couple, our lovely NoNo and Mars! Lets just say they’ve been training for the Tough Mudder for something like 11 years. Yes, they take their fitness seriously.

Daddy was pumped up and jittery, and took some time before the 8:40 start to love up the boys and play with them. Oh yeah! Asher kept looking at Ian like he was more than a little insane. Frankly, I don’t blame him.

The Tough Mudder start line was at the base of a huge mountain. It seemed to say, “Get use to it, Mudders, because mountains are going to be your life for the next several hours!” Some Mudders wore funny costumes. I saw ‘fro wigs and matching tights and tutus and teams of friends all in pink scrubs. The National Anthem played before the 8:40 wave was allowed to start. There was crazy cheering and Asher cried because I was making too much noise. A lot of this day was well outside his comfort zone.

We Burndoggle team supporters knew we wouldn’t be able to witness MOST of the Tough Mudder obstacles. (Here is the course map.) But we were there to pass the day, have a great time, and hope for the opportunity to see our friends kicking ass, so we bought tickets for the cable car to take us up to 8,200 feet above sea level. (Asher didn’t much like this part either, but he bravely did as he was told and stuck very close to me. Especially when it started rocking after passing a pylon. Even my stomach did flip-flops while on this thing.)

Right after we exited this cable car “sky bus” thingy, we emerged at the top of a gorgeous mountain with a vista that stretched all the way to Lake Tahoe in the distance. But that’s not what caught our eye right away. First, we were captivated by the nearby obstacle called Everest—a quarter-pipe against which Mudders threw themselves in the hopes of  scaling it. A group of burly athletes lined the top to help other Mudders over the obstacle. Yes, Mudders, you see work in cooperation. This isn’t a race, per se. It’s more about teamwork and cooperation and facing your fears. These guys at the top were more than happy to haul others up and over the edge. But just jumping high enough to grab one of these body-building helpers’ hands was a huge feat. Most people I watched couldn’t do it. Some did. Mars did it, somehow, when I wasn’t looking. This may be my only regret of the day.

(None of these marvelous people are my people. That’s OK, though. They’re cool!)

What was truly thrilling was the fact that Mars, NoNo, and Ian were there when we arrived, waiting for their chance!  There was something of a traffic jam for the Mudders to get over this thing. I hadn’t really dared to hope that we might catch up with them at any point on the course. This was a dream come true. NoNo waited and watched others make their attempts, strategizing all the while, I think.

Ian weighed the risks carefully.

NoNo and Ian both climbed the 12-foot half-pipe to get over. Tough Mudder isn’t about doing every obstacle perfectly. It’s about making it through. This Everest was only obstacle 3, I think (after the Kiss of Mud and the Death March). We got kisses and then they were off again, running up an even higher mountain to who knows where? … something about crawling through snow, I later found out.

Dakini and the boys and I followed an alpine meadow trail a ways over to two nearby obstacles: the monkey bars and the rope climb. These were monkey bars on steroids, I tell you. About six lanes of Mudders monkeying uphill to a peak and then downhill to the end of the obstacle. Most fell into the muddy water below. Some made it all the way across. Many made it only part way. I really didn’t ever realize how many different monkey bar styles there were before this day!

This might be my favorite photos of the monkey bars because of the tights, of course, but it doesn’t convey the numbers of people crossing at once. Crazy. We waited here quite a while, hoping our friends would arrive after having passed through obstacles that we skipped by coming here. We’ll never really know if they went through this section of the course before we arrived here on foot with a 4-year-old, or after we finally gave up hoping to see them.

Right near here was the rope climb, which I later learned was something of a triumph for Ian. At this point the boys were holding up beautifully, especially since I kept feeding them.

The High Camp views were amazing. Truly spectacular. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel small and yet restores your faith in the world because of it.

Dakini took this great photo of us on top of the world among the mules ears. It was such a gorgeous day!

Squaw Valley hosted the Olympics in 1960. They have an Olympic Museum, which would be interesting to visit sometime, but we weren’t here for that.

Eventually, we rode the cable car back down the mountain and got the gear bags for our warriors. We ended up waiting under some shade at the cargo net obstacle for quite some time. This is a shot that Lucas took, which clearly shows Mudders coming down a (third?) mountain single file to get to the cargo net. We could see them way at the top as tiny specks, and we must have scanned the outlines of hundreds of descending people, looking for our three darlings, all the while shuffling our feet and hoping.

The waiting was hard. Anxious for me. But mostly boring for the boys. I jollied them along as best I could with PBJ sandwiches and pears. Lucas made a little birdie out of a pine cone and bits of wood chips. Asher made a big pile of rocks and then carefully formed the letter A with little sticks. “Mama, look what I made! Is that a A?”

After what felt like a long, nail-biting time, Ian emerged on the top of this obstacle. We had spotted our friends snaking down the mountain, and we were cheering like mad when he reached the top and looked right at us. Moments later, NoNo and Mars were there, too. They were close to the end of this ordeal and spirits were very high!

Daddy ran to us. We cheered and applauded. We got hugs and kisses. I snapped many photos of these gorgeous, dusty Mudders. (A gazillion more are on my Flickr stream.)

Don’t they look wonderful? But alas, even though they had scaled the Berlin Walls, carried logs, swam under walls, jumped off high planks, and braved the Chernobyl Jacuzzi already, they weren’t done yet. Two or three other obstacles still remained ….

Like this balance-beam obstacle called Twinkle Toes. Again, there were many lanes that Mudders could cross. Trouble was, the boards kept wobbling and many people fell into icy-cold water. I’m told the day was punctuated by frequent encounters with icy-cold water.

They approached the last obstacle, Electroshock Therapy—a field of electrically charged wires ready to zap Mudders with 10,000 volts as they pass—at a walk. This is one that messes with your mind, I think.

And then they were done. Their reward? A free beer and some food, a T-shirt, and this nifty orange headband.

Ian was elated, but not quite in his right mind at the finish. Dizzy? Addled? Relieved? Definitely happy!

Team Burndoggle’s time was something like 5 hours and 20 to 40 minutes. I don’t know exactly. I was too excited and busy congratulating them and taking photos to check the time. Whatever. They did it! And then much celebration ensued. The grins were worth a million bucks. There was pizza and more beer.

And our Tough Mudders posed for pics in the most delightful ways.

And my little, impressionable boys got to see Daddy do something amazing and clearly worthwhile, something he worked hella hard for—which is why I dragged them two hours into the Sierras at the crack of dawn and then up and down mountaintops after all.

Congratulations, NoNo and Mars! You rock!

Congratulations, Ian, my love. You are heroic and mighty! I’m so proud of you.

I had my “final” painting class on August 23. We worked on a still life of watermelon on a table draped with black velvet fabric. I tell you, painting black velvet was really tricky for me. Is it green-black? Purple-black? Mixing blacks from transparent ultramarine blue, alizarin crimson, and thalo green was quite remarkable. I painted a small 8- by 10-inch canvas that night.

A few days later, while the paints on my palette were still wet, I finished it at home. I elected to work on that black velvet some more—it was looking wimpy—and to dull the green in the rind of one section of melon a bit more. Here’s a photo of the finished, still-wet painting. Such a simple, one-object subject, and yet it presented many challenges. It felt perfectly marvelous to use all those reds!

Above, I said “‘final’ class.” I have to enroll in another session because I’m not done with this yet. I’ve taken a haitus of a couple of weeks now and I and really miss it. I’m hoping to return to class next Tuesday.

To all of my darling friends who made it financially possible and shoved me into this dream of mine (because I wouldn’t go there otherwise), thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’ll never forget this birthday present.