We have a traditional celebration called Pyanepsia, which is adapted from an ancient Greek festival. It is one of my favorite holidays of the year because it brings my darlings together for an evening of community, food, and thanksgiving. It’s a festival in honor of the changing of the seasons, from the outer to the inner, from the light into the darkness.

We use heaps of bay laurel.

We feast on fine foods, bean stews, and wine.

We make candles.

This year, we dipped autumn leaves in beeswax to preserve them. Why not, when we were making candles anyway?

We make a giant communal eirisione, hung with wool and trinkets, evidence of our many blessings, in the hopes we will continue to be so blessed. Many thanks to our gracious hosts. xoxo

We have a quiet Thanksgiving Day today. Quiet enough to think a bit about what I’m grateful for.

* My beautiful sons, strong, brilliant, and hale. They are the sunlight of my days. They have transformed me.
* My loving, noble husband who takes care of all of us and brings out the real me. He is my shelter and my heart.
* My parents and Ian’s parents, for all that they are and do, and for all they helped us to become.
* My precious, clever, quirky, shining friends. They know why.
* My safe, comfortable home filled with all that I really need and lots more besides.
* My ever-hungry brain and my many hobbies, which nourish me in so many ways. I am still growing.
* My undeniable, abundant opportunities, a plethora of blessings and experiences that I’ve enjoyed all my days. I am especially grateful that we can now offer amazing opportunities to our children as they grow.
* My family members whose love and courage are so great that they do the tasks that no one else wants to do.

We are so very, very rich. I am sending out my love to all of you on this Thanksgiving Day. Blessed be.

I couldn’t be prouder of Lucas today. He was so mature, so considerate, and so well-behaved today at Nana’s funeral. He combed his hair and dressed up and everything. He had told us that he wanted to say a few words at the service. I was surprised when he actually stood to speak, as the room was packed. He was brave and sincere. Many people told us and him how much they appreciated what he said today. My heart was bursting. He was my bright light in an otherwise sad and dismal day.

Many thanks to our friends, K and J, for lending us some of J’s dress clothes for today.

Last weekend we had a marvelous Adventure Day! Featuring … grandparents and SCIENCE! We met up with Ian’s dad, Glen, and his girlfriend, Miriam, and we all drove to San Francisco to visit the Exploratorium and nearby SF sights. If you ever get the chance to go to the Exploratorium, seize it.

“So why don’t all exhibits have scientific explanations?
The Exporatorium is about discovering things for yourself. We want to spark your curiosity not just give you facts. That’s why you won’t find explanations at every exhibit. Facts and explanations are important, and you will find them here. But finding things out by experimenting, by playing around, is what science is all about.

So mess about. Explore your hunches. Follow your curiosity. See what happens.”

The sunlight fast is dwindling,
My little lamp needs kindling,
Its beam shines far in darkest night
Dear Lantern guard me with your light.

Last night’s Martinmas lantern walk with Asher’s preschool friends was so magical. We had a sit-down dinner of homemade soup, salad, bread, and pumpkin pie. It was wonderful to get to better know the other families whose children attend the school.

An angel lighted the children’s lanterns with a spark from heaven.

Then we walked through the neighborhood with our lanterns shining brightly.

The kids were so excited to be walking through the night and their exuberance and jumping about caused many candles to blow out. (Thank goodness Ian brought a lighter along! He’s a veteran of several such preschoolers-with-fire events.)

When we returned we followed a path lit by stars and met Mother Earth in the garden, who gave the children precious gifts to plant in the ground. She told us to guard our light and keep it safe through the darkness of the winter.

Inspired by SouleMama {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Today is a very full day. We are attending Lucas’s third-grade Eurythmy performance of The Firebird this afternoon. We are also attending a Martinmas potluck and lantern walk with Asher’s preschool this evening. Both of these events are happy and exciting. Both are dampened by my grief over Nana’s death yesterday.

Part of me would like for everything to feel normal. A part of me thinks it’s crazy to be normal—working on freelance projects, worrying about deadlines, arranging babysitting, and attending school functions—at a time like this. But, of course, life goes on.

And isn’t that a miracle?

In the midst of a busy and rich life, we pause to grieve. In the midst of a sad time, we snatch moments of elation and joy, pride and comfort to buoy us up. There is a symmetry there, a balance.

Both darkness and light.

I don’t know what to think or feel, but lighting a candle seemed right.

Farewell, Nana. I love you.

Yesterday evening, Lucas led Ian and me in a drawing lesson. “Want to come to Art School, Mom?” How could we say no? He proceeded to demonstrate and lead us in a drawing of a geodesic dome on Mars. He measured with his ruler and asked us to do the same. He dictated what colors we could use, but gave us some small freedoms. Ian had to leave early to cook us all dinner, but I stayed to the end, when we added Martian snails, the Milky Way, and another planet with rings at the top-right corner.

All the while, Asher provided musical entertainment with a one-stringed guitar, plucked like a double bass, and his own rock-inspired vocals. Listening to Lucas sing in Hebrew lately has really freed Asher from the confines of having to use English lyrics in his music. Now, pretty much anything goes.

It’s very artistic around here. I love it.

This story is really not about me, but I’m going to tell my part in it because it gave me great joy.

Lucas’s class is performing the Russian story of the Firebird in Eurhythmy this week. The performance is on Thursday and they’ve worked quite hard on it. I cannot wait to see this performance and I know already it’s going to make me cry. Lucas is excited about it, too.

A whole crew of volunteers was recruited to sew fancy dresses for the girls to wear. I was asked to do this part: paint the Firebird’s fabric wings.

With paints.

I love paints.

I love to paint.

Here’s my inspiration and reference material: The Firebird by Demi.

So this is how I spent part of my Sunday afternoon, outside in my unseasonably warm backyard, with the fabric clipped to my fence, while the wind rushed about blowing leaves into my way.

This is how I left it last night, with the back almost finished (not all the tail feathers were done). Today I painted the front because when the Firebird spreads her wings, you’ll see the underside. I’ve also spent some time adding details, like more gold shimmer.

I don’t have a daylight photo of the wings finished at this point. I’ll try to snap one in the morning before I send this off to school. I fervently hope that this garment will work. The paint has made the fabric pretty stiff, so I’m hoping the Eurhythmy teacher doesn’t expect lots of flowing, draping softness!

Doing this was such fun! I wish I could paint more often!