It’s been a bummer week for me. I’ve worked a lot. I’ve struggled with my current roster of projects and I have lots more work in my future. Last night, my mother-in-law gave us a big break by keeping our kids for dinner, which allowed Ian and me to go on a mini date. We had a lovely sushi dinner. (When I’m feeling beat-up by life, I always want sushi.)

When we picked up our kids that evening, I just wasn’t ready to go back home. So we drove to Folsom, parked the car and walked over the historic truss bridge and into the old part of town. It was a great opportunity to visit a part of town we don’t often visit and the spontaneity of it felt really good.

We had great views of the Rainbow Bridge and Lake Natomas. I enjoyed watching the fishing boats move into their nooks for an evening of fishing.

Along the way we ran into our friends, which was a nice surprise. They were out looking for sticks to make into arrows and wild blackberries—you know, like you do.

We walked through the main street and stopped in a New Age shop to admire the crystals and gems (Asher is very font of such things). We saw a huge crystal ball made of quartz with a price tag of $3800! Madame Trelawney must be missing it.

As dusk fell, we looked into glittering shop windows and then popped into Snook’s ice cream and candy shop for a treat. I really didn’t realize that Folsom has nightlife on the weekends. We saw several open wine bars and pubs. A band was setting up to play in the Folsom Hotel bar. We also discovered a cute and cozy coffee shop. I think this means Ian and need to come back another time when we’re alone.

For an unplanned ramble, it was very fun. We walked back to our car in the dark. Asher was pretty tired by the end, but he never complained once; his steps only got slower and slower as we neared the car. It was a perfect summer night.

I spent some time caring for my grandmother today. It’s a long story, but her usual caregivers were temporarily unavailable and my dad asked me to step in and help. At first I was annoyed. I’m very busy with work right now and I’m facing multiple deadlines. I agreed to do it because—obviously—it is the right thing to do; nevertheless I was feeling put out. Even though I am never asked to do this.

Now I am so glad I did.

This is my beautiful grandmother. She is 93 years old. I love her very much.

It is hard to see people you love changing as they age, changing noticeably each time you see them. I don’t like it. I am inexperienced when it comes to being around and caring for elderly people. I was scared to be in charge of her well-being.

It was fine. It was easy, thanks to my dad and others who have this territory all mapped out already. I just had to follow some simple instructions and all the difficult stuff was done when I arrived. I am grateful that grandma took her medications so easily at my request—that was part of what I was worried about.

I wandered a little while I was there, trying hard to notice things about her—about her home, about her likes and loves, her collections, her style.

There are careful touches in every nook, beloved items placed with intention.

The marks of her hand and her sister’s hand, Nana, with whom my grandmother lived for most of her life, are everywhere.

Photographs of family members cover walls, bookshelves, and tabletops. Paintings and prints, delicate wallpaper, rich drapes decorate the space. Beautiful light is everywhere. Everything is just so.

But that’s not all I noticed, while I was there. It’s not only my grandmother’s careful hand I see. I see my father’s, my uncle’s, and my aunt’s—they are part of her world every day, ensuring that she is OK, makes it to doctor appointments, and has company. They stay with her when her caregivers are away, do the shopping, and much more.

I see it in a hundred gifts given with love over the years.

The evidence of caring is all around, especially in the fact that my grandmother is still living in her home, despite her age and infirmities. It’s in the American flag that’s hanging on the house, just as it has done every July of my grandmother’s life. Someone put it there for her. It’s in the tiny china dish, fashioned in the shape of a teapot and painted with flowers, that holds her daily medications for after breakfast. It’s in the coffee, water, and orange juice that are served to her in the morning, and in the fact that they let her put syrup on her frosted danish. It’s in the special, mechanical chair that she sits in to watch her game shows. It’s in the living orchids and other houseplants that someone carefully waters. Fresh carnations sit in a vase on the dining table. Her pale yellow socks matched her pale yellow outfit, even though she cannot dress herself. I see it in her hairdo, which is set faithfully every week, and in her manicured nails.

None of this is easy, this maintenance that is done to keep her well and comfortable. I am full of wonder and gratitude, and not a little sadness.

Life is full of mighty lessons these days. I am trying hard to learn them.

We surprised the boys with a picnic dinner the other night after swimming. We haven’t had a chance to leave town yet, so I’m trying to find little slices of heaven close to home. The river is running very high and very fast this summer. Although there was a small beach, I wasn’t comfortable letting the boys get in the water.

I read about this secluded little park on the American River and decided to check it out. Its entrance is sandwiched between two private residences in a ritzy neighborhood and the park is very small. They have the eleven-space parking lot closed during the summer, which I take to mean that the ritzy neighbors don’t want riffraff using their park.

Nevertheless, we weren’t the only people there. One family was fishing. Another group brought their dog down for … well, they seemed to want him to get wet. He wasn’t too keen on that plan. One couple swam a while, which looked fairly risky to me.

We waited for Daddy to bring Solstice dog and our picnic dinner, as the boys and I came here straight from swimming practice. It was a beautiful place for a picnic.

We watched the sun sink lower and light up the far bank.

We watched the Canada geese and mallard ducks. Solstice dog wanted those ducks sooooo bad.

I (obviously) played with Instagram on my phone camera.

Lucas enjoyed some time with his Wimpy Kid book. Asher and Daddy explored a bit, and Asher tried to play with another little boy who was there. We ate ham sandwiches and apples and blueberries and corn chips. Simple. Perfect.

“We need in love to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily–we do not need to learn it.” —Rainer Maria Rilke

Sometimes letting go isn’t easy, especially if what you need to let go of is something you treasure. In many ways, parenting is one long process of letting go; every day we parents and caregivers are challenged to give a little more space, a little more trust, and a little more independence to these growing beings in our care.

Letting go of hurts, mistakes, expectations, and even our loved ones is, at times, part of life, and finding healthy ways to do so without struggle or stubborn holding on is a valuable life skill. Letting go can make way for new ideas, new opportunities, and new knowledge. It‘s also an excellent reminder to live in the present moment, and not in the past.

It‘s a good idea to find opportunities for your children to practice this skill of letting go. Here are two simple ideas that are perfect for children in the summertime.

Buy a container of ladybugs at your local nursery. Watch them, hold them, admire them, perhaps compare their colors and count their spots. Wait until evening, when the beetles are less likely to fly away, and then release them in your garden. Gently sprinkle them onto your roses and other plants that attract aphids. The ladybugs will be your garden protectors, and your children will be doing the right thing by letting them go free.

Order a butterfly garden and live painted lady caterpillars from a company such as Insect Lore. When your caterpillars arrive, watch them eat, grow, and transform into chrysalides. Then carefully place them into your mesh butterfly garden. After approximately seven to ten days, your painted lady butterflies will emerge. You can keep them for a while; they will eat sugar water or fruit juice in captivity. After a few days or a week pass, release the butterflies into the wild. Keep your eyes open because they move surprisingly fast! Whenever you see butterflies fluttering among the summer flowers, you’ll fondly remember the ones you set free.

Fly away, butterfly! Fly up so high. Fly away, butterfly, fly up in the sky!

We enjoyed a lovely 4th of July this year, celebrating with many friends in the swimming pool and out. I left my camera at home, but I snapped a couple of shots of our patriotic treats in the making. And the photo above is from Parnassus, who kindly took the “after” cookie shot for me.

Asher helped me a little with making the sugar cookies. (Why, oh why do I always forget that my sugar cookie recipe calls for the dough to be chilled 2-3 hours before rolling it out?!)

And although I kicked off these pretty strawberry treats, Lucas was kind enough to come along and finish making them for me while I was busy with the cookies. He did a nice job, I think! These are strawberries dipped in white chocolate and blue sugar. Easy as can be, considering you can melt the white chocolate chips in the microwave on medium in just a few minutes. The berries must be dry before you dip them. I saw these on Pinterest and I’ve spent 20 minutes now trying to trace it back to the original creator/photographer and I can’t find her/him to give proper credit.

Anyway …

I hope you had a chance to hold your loved ones close yesterday and remember all the good you have in your life. I did.

In May, before the end of the school year, Lucas and Ian got to go on the fourth-grade class trip to Malakoff Diggins, a California State Historic Park that was once a hydraulic mining operation in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Twenty-eight students, one class teacher, one Spanish teacher, and about ten parent volunteers/chaperones went for two and a half days. They dressed in Gold Rush period clothing, cooked their meals over an open fire, hiked, made rope, made candles, built their own benches for sitting around the campfire, learned about gold mining, danced, listened to a storyteller entertainer, and forged their own iron hooks. They had a marvelous time and came back filthy and tired, but very satisfied.

The class made wonderful wood, tin, and plexiglass lanterns in school, so they would have a way to see at night. I’m told that the food was wonderful the whole time.

These are the cabins Ian stayed in when he was a boy, going camping with his mother and sister. Malakoff Diggins is very special to him and he jumped at the chance to chaperone. I’m so glad he got to do it, both for his sake and for Lucas’s sake. For Lucas, it was fun having his dad there to share in the adventure.

There was an old, old piano in the saloon. Lucas and some other students got to play it. They also played cards and ordered root beer from Ian, the barkeep. To get their second root beer, they had to tell Ian a joke, a fact, or a riddle.

The blacksmith was amazing, according to Ian. He was a volunteer who, in his time of working with children at Malakoff Diggins, had helped over 10,000 kids make iron hooks like this one. He had his system down pat, with every child getting the opportunity to both work the bellows and hammer the iron hooks into shape. Isn’t Lucas’s hook terrific?

The parents in attendance brought a wagon load of essential skills along to help: camping, cooking, nursing, building, child herding, and much more.

Everyone even tried square dancing and country dancing.

A few brave kids brought their guitars and played music around the campfire. I’m so impressed by this! These kids are so comfortable with each other, as they’ve been together since first grade (and some since preschool).

This is how Lucas looked when he returned home after two and a half days—filthy and soooo tired.

These photos are just some of my favorite shots. I took a bunch of “before” shots on the morning they all left town, when the kids were clean, fresh-faced, and eager. Ian took all the wonderful photographs of the kids at Malakoff Diggins, for which I am so grateful. I had a TON of fun editing the photos when they returned, adding filters and making them look old-timey—something altogether new to me. Anyway, aren’t they the most beautiful children in the Wild West?

I am so grateful that my son got to experience this! Although every child in California studies California history in fourth grade, few get to immerse themselves in a Gold Rush era town for a few days, living and working like people used to do. These children, because of their Waldorf background, took to this stuff so easily. Make our own rope? Of course! My heartfelt thanks goes to the teachers and brave parents to took them. And thank you to Malakoff Diggins for having such a terrific program.

Happy Midsummer! It’s been a perfectly lovely weekend for our family. It looked like this:

(Asher’s writing, 5 and a 1/2)

We had friends over for two spectacular meals—friends whom I adore and crave constantly.

Lucas went to a fantastic birthday party. He gave his friend a copy of Fellowship of the Ring, a thoughtful gift, as Lucas and Asher are thoroughly enjoying the Tolkien trilogy. Ian is reading The Two Towers to them now.

Ian got a spiffy new phone f0r work. The Star Walk app is awesome!

Friends from school rode their bikes over to play here with us on Saturday. They get along so beautifully with my kids.

I painted a tiny bit.

We did some shopping for home improvement stuff.

Ian shortened the chicken run a tad, as the first step to solving one part of our drainage problems. He built a new wall with tree stakes we already had laying about!

We worked on our drip system, fixing problems and adding drippers. The weather was so cool, we had to take advantage of the opportunity to work in the yard.

Lucas played in a piano recital, which was altogether wonderful. So many talented kids!

We grown-ups have been watching the Lord of the Rings films. All the boys’ talk of orcs and elves and dwarves made me want to see them again.

Our Midsummer days have been happy and full of food, friendship, love, useful work, and celebration! I hope yours have been, too!

When cultivating optimism, which I posted about the other day,  it can be helpful to have a visual reminder of your intentions, hopes, and dreams. Make wishing flags to hang on a tree in your garden and sway in the breezes all summer long.

Materials
* assorted pretty fabric scraps, or watercolor paintings or pretty papers
* a permanent marker
* ribbon or yarn
* pinking shears (if using fabric)
* a hole punch (if using paper), or scissors
* beads (optional)

Tutorial
Take a moment to think of the good things you want to happen in your life. Your wishes may be as specific as you need them to be (new job for daddy, better health for grandma, college acceptance for sister, opportunity to homeschool, good teacher for brother, fun at camp, etc.). If you are doing this project with children, ask them, “What happy things will happen to us?” Chances are good that the children will have many joyful ideas to share. (Marvel for a moment at how easy optimism comes to them.) Write your ideas down in a list.

If you don’t have specific ideas or hopeful expectations, make a general list of positives, such as: joy, learning, rest, health, happiness, hope, peace, harmony, love, patience, safety, etc.  When my family and I did this project, we asked our friends and loved ones what they hoped and prayed for—we took their requests and made flags for them, too. It was a lovely way to share our goodwill with others.

Cut your fabric into skinny rectangles (or triangles) with your pinking shears. If you are using paintings or other papers, you can use regular craft scissors. You’ll need one rectangle for each wish, and they can be measured and uniform or free form and varied, it’s up to you. If you want, you can think of them as custom-made prayer flags.

Using your permanent marker, write your wish on your rectangle. Make a hole with scissors (or a hole punch, if you’re using paper) at the top, and loop your ribbon or yarn through the hole and tie a knot. Now it will look a lot like a bookmark.

You may like to add beads to the top of your ribbon. If you do, the beads will add weight to the wish and give it a finished look. Make as many or as few of these wish flags as you like. If you’re doing this as a class or as a family, make sure that everyone contributes some wishes.

Now find a spot in your garden or playground where you will be frequently and tie your wishes to a tree. They will add color to your garden and flutter in the summer breezes. Perhaps your wishes will be carried by the wind up to heaven, or to the four corners of the world, spreading your love and optimism over the globe to people everywhere. Whenever you see them, you will be reminded of all the good that is in your future.

(This article was originally published in the Little Acorn Learning June Enrichment Guide in 2011. Check out all their many wonderful offerings at Little Acorn Learning.

If you have a sanguine temperament, you probably never even think about optimism, or being optimistic—you just are upbeat most of the time. Not everyone is naturally optimistic, though. As caregivers and parents, optimism can be one of our most valuable personal resources. Finding ways to cultivate optimism in our lives is highly rewarding and will provide a fount of energy and love that we can draw from, especially when times get tough or we’re having a challenging day.

But what is optimism? Some would say it is hope, or the expectation that the future will bring good things. Some would define optimism as a tendency to think of life and the event unfolding around us in a positive light, to see opportunity in change, to see good outcomes when we imagine what is to come.

There is a well-documented connection between optimism and good health—and the converse. The mind-body connection is being validated by scientific research, and has long been understood in many cultures. The Latin word optimum means “best.” So how will you be your best self, live your best, do your best, and reap the best outcomes for your efforts?

Even if it’s not your tendency to be optimistic, you can cultivate optimism in your life for your own benefit and the benefit of those around you. Patterns of optimistic thinking can be learned. Here are some things you can do to nurture an optimistic outlook. I know because this is something I work on all the time.

Get some exercise. Exercise has so many benefits, which we’ve all heard before. But the positive impact of exercise on your emotional and mental state is just exactly what you need to be optimistic. Not only does exercise provide you with a boost to your physical energy and emotional well-being, it’s also a way of investing today in your healthy, happy future. You want to be around to enjoy those grandchildren and great-grandchildren, to fulfill your life goals, and exercise is the ticket.

Plant a tree. By planting a tree, you are symbolically looking to the future. You plan where it will go in your garden, imagine its height and breadth as it grows, how it will cast shade, and even perhaps that you will someday picnic under its canopy. What else will your tree bring you and your family? How else might it bring you joy? As you watch your tree grow, you have a symbol of your optimism.

Practice “prenostalgia.” OK. My husband and I made up that word, but I think it works. By prenostalgia I mean imagining a moment in the future when you might look back and fondly remember this time in the present. I guess that’s a kind of funny way of saying be mindful of this moment, and take some steps to ensure that you can enjoy it later, too. Take up scrapbooking, for example, or journaling, or blogging. If you‘re a shutterbug like me, realize that every photo you snap is a simple act of optimism. You are investing in your future enjoyment of life, just as much as you’re enjoying the present.

Prepare a time capsule, or a hope chest, for your children. Add to your time capsule, little by little, through the years. It can contain artworks, special items of clothing, and other mementos. A hope chest traditionally is a collection of things that a grown child will need when she or he reaches adulthood. Exercise your imagination. What will your child like to have in the future?

Make a handmade quilt. There’s nothing quite like a quilt as a symbol of love, warmth, and home. Stitch by stitch, you can sew in your hopes for the future, for the world, and for your beloved family members. While you work, imagine how this quilt you are making will be used, who will use it, and how it will be treasured because it came from your hands and heart.

Save some money. I look on each dollar I save for my sons’ college education as an exercise in optimism. No matter how small the amount, saving money is a way of planning for a good future. Perhaps it’s savings for your children or your own retirement; perhaps it’s for a special family vacation or for your dream home. Whatever you save for, you are acting out of hope and it feels good.

Make a microloan. Sorry to mention money twice in a row, but I think this one is great. Microloans are tiny investments in people and small businesses, especially in developing nations. There are several reputable organizations that can match micro-investors with people who need small amounts of cash (sometimes as little as $25) to get a business off the ground, thereby increasing the safety and health of their families and communities. This small investment is an act of trust and optimism, a testament to our faith in human nature and good in the world. An individual does have the power to change lives for the better, which is a way of changing the world.

Find the positive. Take a moment to find the positives in every situation, especially in those that are seemingly bad or discouraging. This silver-lining thinking may require some deep soul-searching and some practice to make it a habit, but if you make a concerted effort to change your negative thoughts to positive ones, you‘ll be learning optimism.

Say it aloud. Whenever you are feeling good about the future or confidence in yourself or others, say so out loud. Not only will you be sharing compliments and your happy expectations with others, who will surely benefit from hearing it, but also you will benefit from hearing yourself being positive and hopeful. Furthermore, be aware of your inner self-talk and compliment yourself when you do something well, when you make the extra effort, when you give of yourself, when you act out of kindness. Positive affirmations can help cultivate an optimistic outlook on life.

These few simple things, practiced and perfected over time, may just alter the way you look at everything. Soon, your own eyes will sparkle with hope and excitement in just that same magical way your child’s eyes do.

Finally, be gentle with yourself. You already are optimistic, even if you don’t realize it. Here is the proof: By spending time caring for children, you are engaged in faithful, optimistic work every day, striving toward and cultivating a bright, beautiful future world.

(This article was originally published in the Little Acorn Learning June Enrichment Guide in 2011. Check out all their many wonderful offerings at Little Acorn Learning.

Sunlight is flooding
The widths of space
The son of the birds echoes
Through the realms of the air
The blessing of plants sprouts
From the being of the earth
And human souls lift themselves
In feelings of thankfulness
To the Spirits of the World.

—Rudolf Steiner

Happy Summer Solstice! Here is a little tea concoction I made and it was so yummy, we’ll definitely do this again:

• two green tea bags
• lemon slices, squeezed into the water
• lemon balm leaves
• sweetener of your choice

(Steep all day, strain, and then chill before drinking.)

We have had a marvelous day and I hope you have, too.

We made a giant summer sun mosaic cookie together. Here it is before baking. And here is the basic giant cookie recipe from Mel’s Kitchen Cafe. This kind of thing goes over really big with my children. Lucas made the face; Asher did the eyebrows and the sun rays around the outside. Since the boys got soooo excited about putting the Reese’s candies on top, I realize now that I didn’t need to put peanut butter chips into the dough.

We painted suns, inspired by my co-author and friend Eileen Straiton’s project in our Midsummer Festival E-Book. I think once they’re dry we’ll hang them.

Then we had a beautiful Solstice feast of shrimp tostadas and several fresh salads. I needed lots of circles and colors and fresh veggies in this meal. We even added in some nasturtiums from our garden. We had so much gorgeous food, I wished we had guests to share it with! This is one of my favorite things: Eating amazing California food outside in summertime, when the day has been hot but the evening delta breezes pick up just in time.

“Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.” —Walt Whitman

Also, today marks six months since our little dog Solstice came to our family. He followed our boys home on December 21 and hasn’t left our side since then. We love him so much, and we’re all grateful to have him.

Here’s to unexpected blessings that follow you home and take up residence in your heart.

Here’s to abundance of joy, nourishment, learning, and opportunity.

Here’s to family traditions carefully conceived and simply crafted.

Here’s to courage, doing good, and generosity.

Blessed Be.