I’m catching up from last weekend. Last Saturday we celebrated Delphinia, a tradition that we have held for about 20 years. Friends come from far and wide to play on the beach at Point Reyes National Seashore and to declare that springtime has come! The time for breathing out, adventuring, travel, enterprise, and busyness has returned and we can throw off our quiet introspection of the winter months. This year, the weather was absolutely perfect! We sometimes have a chilly beach experience, but not this year.

Champagne? Why, yes, thank you!

We picnicked. The daring children splashed in the cold waves.

We played and flew kites. Sweet X has a nifty dragon kite. We had a community fire; we shared our intention and our gratitude. Two mamas are expecting. We’ll soon have two new baby friends in the world! How amazing is that?

So many of us have dogs now and we brought them along. Five dogs makes things extra exciting. This was Solstice’s first trip to the beach—as far as we know. He’s new to our family.

The guys found a giant log up the beach. They decided it was in the wrong place.

And in the wrong orientation.

Then they hatched an even greater plan. (Everyone in this photo is at least 6 feet tall.)

And brave J climbed to the tipy-top, amply proving her courage, . I watched the whole thing and I still don’t know how she did it.

Point Reyes is so lovely. This is one of my favorite places on earth. Perhaps it’s because we have been coming here to celebrate and adventure my entire adult life. It’s pretty far from home—more than three hours in the car—but it’s definitely worth the trip. As is our family tradition, we picked up garbage on the beach before we left and hiked it out. Earth Day was the next day, after all, so we worked extra hard.

We didn’t leave the beach until 7:30 in the evening!

We were tired and soggy, but very happy. And our adventure didn’t end there! Our friends, T and E invited us to camp with them in their trailer at Samuel P. Taylor campground in the redwoods of Marin county. Staying overnight there with them meant that the fun didn’t have to end, we didn’t have to drive 3 hours home at night, and we got to play and hike a bit in the forest in the morning. It was sooooo great waking up on Earth Day to all that green!

It was beautiful. Suki dog patiently tolerated all of our noise and business. We had a yummy breakfast together.

I got to play with E’s iPhone and took this funky Hipstamatic shot of her and T.

And we got silly. Nothing pleases little boys more than allowing them time to be goofballs.

Thanks for the family photo, E! (And for all the photos!)

Naturally, I’d like to show you all the wildflowers and beautiful emerald trees but this post is getting waaaaaaaaaay too long …

Oops. They sneaked in here anyway. Ahem! So, I’ll skip our stop at the Mission San Rafael on the way home. Perhaps I’ll write about that another time.

For now, I need to clean my house and get ready to have family over for a birthday party this evening. Lucas turns 10 on Tuesday!

Yesterday we said good-bye to a favorite hen. Midnight passed away in the afternoon. She was a great hen with a lovely disposition and gentleness, and she laid gorgeous, huge brown eggs steadily for us for a year and a half. She was two or more years old when we rescued her. She seemed to have a steadying influence on the other hens. She was large and fluffy and her black feathers were soft and iridescent in the sunlight. She was Ian’s favorite of all of the girls.

Last fall, we noticed her belly was distended and so we researched online to find out what might be up with her. We found evidence to suggest that she was perhaps egg-bound, and although we did the things that were recommended to remedy it—ridiculous things like giving her a bath in warm water—nothing changed for the better. Yet, she didn’t die like the Internet said she surely would do within a few days. In fact, she lived another three months, ate heartily, grew her bottom feathers back in,  and …. then lost them again. Our theory is that she overwintered OK because she wasn’t laying, but now that spring has ramped up the hens’ egg-laying, she was egg-bound and it did her in.

Or we could be totally wrong about all of that. We’re just guessing.

Anyway, although I thought there might be great grief when I told my children about losing Midnight, they surprised me by taking it in stride. Lucas wanted to see her dead body, and then seemed to accept that she was gone. Asher was mildly interested but not upset. I’m grateful for Emily Mouse (our deceased pet), who paved the way for our experience of losing an animal. I also think that the addition of Solstice Dog to our family has given my children an understanding of what is a “proper” pet, and so the chicken seemed less important.

And while it’s quite silly to be very sad about losing our Midnight when we are a family who eats chicken three times a week, she was, nonetheless kind of a pet.

Rest in peace, Midnight. You were a great chicken.

It seems to me that Leap Day is a special day, one where magic might be closer at hand than usual, since it comes only once every four years. Surely the fairies and elves must come visiting on this special day, when spring magic is so potent and new!

I did some poking around on the Internet and found, well, not much. I asked our Waldorf teachers if there was a tradition of observing Leap Day, but no one I asked knew of any.

That didn’t sit too well with me, so I sat down and wrote a story to tell my boys. Here it is, in case you need a Leap Day story to tell.

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The Boy and the Elf

by Sara E. Wilson

Once upon a time, in a land far from here and yet not so far, a child lived with only his grandmother in an old cottage with walls so thin that when the howling winds blew they found their way through the cracks to blow out the candles. The boy loved his grandmother very much and she loved him. They spent lots of time together every day. He helped her with the chores, bringing in the firewood and scrubbing the soup pot. He wound the yarn that she spun into neat little balls to be sold at the market, for he had good eyes and nimble fingers, but best of all, he had a warm, golden heart.

Although the grandmother sang to the boy, and baked him sweet cakes on his birthday, and told him stories by the fire every evening before bedtime, the boy sometimes felt lonely, for he had no brothers or sisters and no playmates. When grandmother went into town to sell her yarn, he sometimes stayed behind and spent his time wandering in the woods. He had a favorite creek, where he liked to catch frogs in summertime, and a favorite meadow, where he liked to lie on his back in the spring and watch the clouds fly past. He had a favorite tree that he hugged and climbed, whose coppery leaves he danced and jumped in during the autumn when they fell to the earth.  He also had a favorite cave in the mountainside at the very edge of the farmer’s orchard, where he dared himself to go in the wintertime.

As it was wintertime now, on the day the boy had some time to himself, he went to the small cave. He always hoped he might hear coming from it sounds of snorts and snores from a sleeping mama bear. He never did hear such sounds, but he never gave up hope of someday hearing them. The orchard was in full bloom now. The air smelled sweet and the trees were clouds of white and pink blossoms and the ground around the cave entrance was littered with pretty petals. He listened carefully, and heard not the hoped-for snores of bears, but a high-pitched chuckle coming from inside the cave.

The boy wondered what could be making such a noise and called out, “Hello! Is someone in there?”

Pop

There before him, just outside the cave, stood a little man. His nose was sharp and his ears, sticking out of two holes in his hat, were pointed. He was dressed all in brown from the tip of his tall hat to the cuffs of his long trousers. The only things about him that weren’t brown were his rosy cheeks and his very blue shoes.

“What do you want?” asked the little man.

“Why, nothing,” stammered the boy. “I just came to the cave to see if any bears were here sleeping.”

“No bears. Just me,” said the elf, looking rather cross that he had been discovered. “I come here to be alone.”

“Um, me too.” The boy looked down. “I’m usually alone unless my grandmother is with me. Why were you laughing?”

“I’ve just played a marvelous trick on the farmer’s wife, who forgets to leave out nibbles for me. I’ve soured the milk! And down the road a bit I came across two children shouting ungrateful words at their mother, so I’ve got them good, too. And that, my boy, is why I was laughing.”

“How did you get the children? What did you do?”

“While they were sleeping I tied their hair in knots. They’ll have a time of it brushing them out in the morning.” The little man burst into a fit of giggling lasting several minutes. “Well, since you found me here on a Leap Day, you have to tell me what you want—and, if it’s within my power to, I must give it. That is the magic of Leap Day, which comes but once every four years. So what’s it to be?”

The boy sat down and thought a good while about what he might ask for. While he waited, the little man first tapped his foot, then stood on his hands, then jumped up and spun in circles to entertain himself.

The boy didn’t want to wish for wealth or beauty or playthings. He and grandmother always had just enough to eat, so he didn’t wish for rich foods or sweets. He realized what he wanted more than anything was a friend. When he thought that, he smiled and listened hard for the little voice inside him to tell him whether that was indeed what he should wish for. The little voice in his heart said, yes.

He plucked up his courage and said to the upside-down elf, “I wish that you would be my friend, and teach me about fairies and gnomes and leprechauns, and creatures of the woods.”

The little man at first seemed surprised. He planted his blue shoes on the ground and stood up. Shock filled his wide brown eyes and he blushed from the hollow of his throat to the tips of his pointed ears. But then he smiled, and a giggle bubbled up from his belly. Soon he was guffawing and rolling on the ground again.

When he finally stopped laughing, he said, “And so it shall be, my friend. My little human friend. You will find me here, at this cave at the edge of the orchard whenever you come. You know I am here when you see the flowers. And we will talk and play and be fast friends. We’re Leap Day Friends forevermore.”

And from that day on, the boy never felt lonely again. He lived with and helped his grandmother, who loved him ever so much, and he visited the cave beside the farmer’s orchard as often as he liked to meet his elfin friend. They had such good times together and the boy learned ever so much.

And if it ever was, it is even still.

© Sara E. Wilson

I’ve worked quite a bit in my garden (yard? yards? gardens?) to spruce it up in preparation for a fabulous spring. I’ve planted about twenty purple iris rhizomes that I bought from the Waldorf school farm. (I still have six more to plant.) I planted sixteen canna rhizomes (pale yellow and orange) and sixty-five (scarlet) crocosmia bulbs, variety “Lucifer.” I divided an agapanthus into four new plants—this is an experiment, as I’m not sure I did it correctly, having never divided these before. But I was feeling lucky, especially since I’m also pretty new to dividing my daylilies (Hemerocallis), too, and the new divisions I’ve made over the last year have all taken beautifully. I put in Iris feotisissima seeds from my parents’ garden. These seem to grow great from seed in their yard, so I’m trying them out. I also planted hollyhock seeds from my mother in law’s garden. My fingers and toes are crossed.

I got to participate in a Kindergarten work night to prepare the Red Rose Kindergarten parent gift to the school fundraising auction that is coming up in March. I did a very, very small job (I helped felt the grassy playmat) to help create this beautiful farmhouse and family puppet scene, which is the work of many hands and hearts. It was fun to spend a couple of hours with my son’s teachers and a few other mommies. Any opportunity to get to know these wonderful people better is good, and spending an evening stabbing wool with a needle is always fun. Anyway, see the girl on the swing? So cute!

There is a new obsession in my home and it involves these dice. My sons and husband have begun playing Dungeons and Dragons together. It’s really cool. Ian is creating custom adventures for my little boys, who couldn’t be more happy to sit around a table (go figure!) and engage in interactive storytelling with Daddy. Lucas and Asher are being asked in the story to work together and support each other and fight for the forces of good. There are fantastical creatures and puzzles to solve and treasure to find and a bit of fantasy battling of orcs or whatever (mediated via dice), and while I would like to think my dear sons have nothing but peace and love in their hearts, I know for certain from experience that they were going to do all that battling in their minds anyway—and quite possibly accidentally-on-purpose bash each other in the process. They are literally spending hours together at the kitchen table, and Daddy is doing funny character voices, and my sons have composed extemporaneous poetry in character (as elf and dwarf), and Asher keeps trying to help Ian tell the story because, well, his ideas are pretty great. The game may be too old for Asher, but Ian has modified it to fit him (as we would for lots of other games) and Asher’s fully engaged and loving it. Daddy is a shining Paragon of Cool in Lucas’s eyes right now and Ian is having fun, too! It all adds up to this: I wouldn’t trade a second of it.

The girls are finally starting to lay again. Yesterday was a great day, resulting in five gorgeous Easter-ready eggs. We’ve had several weeks of only one or two eggs a day. Some winter days brought no eggs at all. This is frustrating for me, as I have 13 hens that I feed every day. But when they do their magic, it’s really magical. Another sign that spring is coming.

There has been a lot of this kind of mess here at my home over the last few days. I got it in my head that it would be fun and efficient and frugal to harvest seeds from my garden and my mother-in-law’s garden and use them for planting this spring. See how I saved some pennies there? I’ve been painstakingly dismantling flower heads and seed pods. I have marigolds and hollyhocks and morning glory seeds in abundance!

Thank goodness I have this nifty tray to keep the mess contained.

Well, I realized I have so very many seeds from this project that I’ve offered on my Facebook page to share them out to anybody who wants them. I thought I’d do the same here.

So I’m packaging up pinches of seeds in a not-very-fancy-or-stylish sort of way and mailing them out to a few eager recipients. Let me know if you want some! I’ll do this until I run out. I guess you could call this a tiny giveaway.

Some gardening caveats: Morning glories spread like the dickens, so if you like that sort of thing, you’ll love them. If you don’t, well, NEVER plant morning glories. Hollyhocks take up to two years to bloom, and they grow very tall and self-seed. Marigolds are annuals, but they are hardy and you can use their petals for dyeing.

XOXO May your gardens bloom like mad this year!

This is Lucas’s most recent invention: Star Wars “origami,” aka paper dolls. He started with Yoda first on Thursday night. Then proceeded to make nine more lickety-split. It helped that we had a much-admired adult friend over for dinner that night, I think. Lucas enjoys impressing her.

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope.” (I love her hair!)

Luke and the droids: I suppose we should have used a sand-colored Tatooine backdrop for this one.

C-3PO is funny. You can almost hear him lecturing R2.

Lucas is proud of these paper creations. He helped pose them for these photos.

Here’s Darth Vader fighting Luke.

The bad guys: Storm Trooper and Darth Vader. You might not be able to see it, but the Storm Trooper has a blaster in his hand.

Somehow, these two, Han Solo and Chewbacca, have the most personality—just as in the film.

Lucas has seen only the first Star Wars film (Espisode 4). Nevertheless, Star Wars mythology features heavily in this 9-almost-10-year-old’s world. I think it’s beyond awesome that he makes his own Star Wars stuff to play with, since his stingy mama doesn’t buy SW toys.

<rubs hands wickedly like evil supervillain>

The Solstice either was yesterday or is today, depending on where you live and how you figure it. We decided to celebrate last night, at the end of the shortest day.

I spent some wonderful alone time yesterday morning making jam from persimmons that my friend G gave to me. They were so ripe and delicious, and made amazing cookies too a few days ago. The boys were in school and I had the house to myself.

I also got to have lunch out with my dear friend, NoNo, which was wonderful. As usual, I dreamed up a little Solstice celebration for our family at the last minute.

Best laid plans of mice and mommies. I was going to have the kids help me make this giant sun cookie for dessert, but I ended up doing it alone. While my children were outside enjoying the last hour of sunshine, they came across a cute little dog wandering on his own at the local school. None of the nearby people claimed him, and when my children walked home, he followed.

He is a handsome fellow.

Frankly, everyone is perfectly smitten with this dog. He seems young and spry, but doesn’t nip or crew or mouth. He is well behaved. I sent Ian and the boys right out to see if they could find the owners, but they came home without having any luck. This is why I made the sun cookie alone. (The recipe is from Mel’s Kitchen Cafe here, and I used Reese’s peanut butter chips and Reese’s pieces candies to mosaic a face. It came out perfectly.)

See the star? Neat, huh? Ian made red beans and rice for dinner and we had sunshiny oranges and sun-shaped squash with our salad. We ate by candlelight on the floor by the fire.

After dinner, Ian took the dog to the local vet to see if there was a microchip that would tell us where he belongs. No chip. Today we put up flyers around the area and have talked to a bunch of our neighbors. So far, we haven’t found his home. This little dog is so nice, I’m sure someone somewhere is missing him. In the meantime, the boys and Ian have fallen in love with him. It feels like everyone is hoping we will keep this dog. Lucas wants to name him Solstice, which is a big name for a little dog. And yes, I am allergic to him.

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.]

On Columbus Day, the boys were home from school, Daddy had the day off work, and they had some time to create their own indoor fun. See how diligently they’re all working?

They designed their own board game, Warrior Quest, complete with beeswax player characters, weapons, a movement system, four regions with corresponding monsters, cards for drawing and battling monsters (even ones that caused you to skip a turn or two), a hit points and damage system to deal with battles and winning or losing. Players could level up and become more powerful through experience so that when they finally confronted the top boss, they would have a chance to defeat him.

The icy world was inhabited by a Viking with a mighty hammer and its resident monster was a polar bear. Beating the polar bear earned you a hammer for your arsenal. I think this might have been influenced by Lucas’s fourth-grade Waldorf curriculum—Norse mythology.

The volcanic world was the home of the dwarf and his fiery dragon. Asher is all about dragons.

In the middle of the board was a crossroads where you could earn gems by battling monsters. Each gem you earned incrementally reduced the damage you would take if a monster bested you. You needed one of each color.

This is the biggest, baddest big-nosed goblin boss standing atop his castle. You could only confront him after you’d traveled through three foreign lands, bested their three monsters, and earned a weapon from each—oh, and you also had to beat the goblin’s two big-nosed minions who were standing guard (one of whom seems to be down in this photo). During playtesting, we mutually decided that your region’s monster could join you in the final battle, adding his die roll to yours. Without this boost, the big boss was just too tough. Good thing you had a friendly monster on your side!

This is the desert nomad player. The desert monster was a giant scorpion. If you beat it, you earned a sword. The forest world had a bowman for a player character and a giant black spider monster. You got a bow for beating this creepy creature.

When all the game design was done, we all played Warrior Quest together. Dinner interrupted our game temporarily, and rather than move everything, we ate on the floor.

I have to say, it was totally fun. We had to keep track of our points with, like, math. We had to gain experience and weaponry and go on a great journey with perils and setbacks.

My sweet guys spent four solid hours on this project. They all stayed involved and contributing. Ian credits the book Geek Dad for inspiring him, and assorted board and role-playing games for some help with game mechanics. But it was all new to the kiddos. Apparently Asher wanted to add a whole cash economy to the game, and Lucas wanted there to be more magic with spells and stuff. Both ideas might have been cool additions, but that sort of thing would have delayed the PLAYING of the game, and frankly, you cannot spent four hours working on something when you’re 4 years old and then NOT get to play it at the end!

And Asher won!