Once again, my dear husband tackled a huge dragon and completed the Tough Mudder in Patterson, California. He trained hard for it and had a great time. Somehow this was a kind of birthday celebration for him. I don’t know. He’s kind of weird. (That is a safety pin in his mouth, not a piercing. He was pinning his number onto his shirt when I snapped the photo above.)

Ian joined our friend Cherylyn and her family’s team, the Jog-or-Naughts. They were all in pink, and Ian gamely donned their color for the event. I was able to follow them from the start and to the first couple of obstacles.

We mistakenly thought it would be relatively flat terrain. Wrong. Tons of climbing through hot, dusty hills.

I soon lost track of Ian and the team because I couldn’t follow. I spent my time eating a hot dog, drinking a beer, and taking photos of hunky hot athletes. That was just fine. The mud spatters on my clothes were worth it. I got some terrific photos.

It was a very hot day, 95 degrees or more. I never really could check because I had no Internet connection. Unlike the previous Tough Mudder he did in Squaw Valley up on Tahoe, in Patterson the water/mud events were actually a little refreshing, and not freezing cold. I sat a very long time by this muddy pond to wait for my Mudders to swim and wade through here and to get this one close-up photo of Ian. I also got a stinky, muddy kiss for my troubles. After hours of waiting while my friends were miles away, climbing hills, slogging through mud, going over and under umpteen yucky, dangerous obstacles, I was very relieved to see them coming down the hill and entering this gross pond, hale and safe.

Here is the last obstacle, named “Electroshock Therapy.” Those are electrified wires hanging down and the Mudders have to run (or fall, slip, crawl, and slide) through them, getting shocks all the while. This was the second obstacle with electricity. Ian had already gotten shocked pretty bad, which he says felt like being kicked in the head.

All six of our Mudders completed the course. What I like about this event is the emphasis on camaraderie and helping one another through it. Our Jog-or-Naughts stuck together and everyone tackled the obstacles that were right for them.

Here is their celebratory beer, which I am told, never tasted so good. I am terribly impressed by all of them! Congratulations, Ian, Cherylyn, Kimberly, Cybil, Susan, and Nina!

Earth’s bounty is always all around us, but it is perhaps even more apparent in the summer, when crops are ripening and plant life flourishes. Wild or cultivated herbs can be useful friends, growing perhaps right outside our kitchen doors. Herbs are commonly used as food, as decorations, as dyes, as flavorings. They also are used the world over to clean and heal.

You can easily make herbal soaps for your family to use and enjoy, right in the comfort of your own kitchen. There are two soap-making techniques. This tutorial teaches you the simpler of the two. Technically, you’re really embellishing this soap, rather than making it from scratch. Because the process is simple, even small children can help to make these beautiful, healing soaps, as long as you carefully monitor them around the stove and hot soap. (Of course you will!)

Calendula (also known as pot marigold) is a common and prolific garden annual that reseeds itself. It is known to have been used as early as Roman times as both a dye and a flavoring. Calendula is known to have antiseptic properties, which make it perfect as a soap additive. Many natural first aid preparations include calendula.

Peppermint grows in many cottage and kitchen gardens. You can use it in teas, desserts, and body care potions, such as lotions, shampoos, balms, and soap. Mint may have a calming and soothing effect for skin irritations, itching and hives. It is believed to have anesthetic and anti-inflammatory properties.

Materials for Making Herbal Soaps

• glycerin soap base (I used a glycerin and olive oil base)
• calendula (pot marigold) and mint herbs from the garden (I used a mix of dried calendula petals and fresh flower heads, and fresh mint leaves)
• stovetop pan, cutting board, knife, ladle
• soap molds (also silicone muffin pans work very well; these come in fun shapes )
• essential oils for fragrance (optional)
• soap colorant (optional)

A word about glycerin soaps: You can buy glycerin at the craft store, along with lots of other fun soap-making and body product supplies (dyes, fragrances, molds, etc.). Using pure glycerin soap in this project will result in soaps with a layered effect, since your herbal additives float to the top of your molds as your soap sets. There’s nothing wrong with this, and the result can be quite beautiful and rustic. Another kind of glycerin soap base that you can buy has olive oil added to it, and a property that keeps any additives in suspension, meaning you won’t get layers and your herbs will stay mixed throughout the soap. This is the look that I was going for with these two batches. You can decide what’s right for you. There is no difference in how you make the soap. Just be sure to read the packaging carefully so you get what you really want.

Begin by gathering your materials. You will need a clean cutting board and a table top to work on.

First, cut your glycerin soap base into small cubes. This makes it easier to melt at low temperatures, and you want to keep the temp quite low when you‘re making soap. You can use a double boiler or just put your glycerin cubes into your pot. (Cleanup is easy with hot water and a scrub brush!) Stir the soap often until all pieces of glycerin are melted.

Meanwhile, chop your mint leaves into very small pieces. You may wish to set aside some of the tiniest leaves to be used as a decoration later on. Of course, this is optional.

If you have lots of soap molds or muffin pans, you might be able to make both types of soap at the same time. Since I had to reuse the molds after the first soaps were fully set, I made two batches—first calendula, then mint—cleaning up in between batches.

Before starting, I saved the dried petals from my calendula flowers for a week or so. For my soap, I also used a few fresh flower heads to maximize its potency as an antiseptic.

Add your petals and flower heads to your melting soap cubes. The heat will begin to cook the flowers.

If you want your calendula soap to have a rich yellow coloring, add a few drops of soap colorant to the pot. You don’t have to do this, and if you cook the petals in the soap a while, it will begin to take on a natural yellow color. At this point, you can also add fragrance, if you wish. I added a few drops of geranium essential oil. Geranium is known to be a comforting scent, and since I envision my children washing their scrapes with my calendula soap, comfort seemed to be just the right feeling to evoke by smell.

If you used fresh flowers, you should fish out the centers now. When you’re satisfied with your soap’s color and fragrance, it’s time to pour it into molds to set. Using a ladle, gently fill each cup to the brim. Keep the mold flat. The soap will begin to cool quickly, but it may take an hour or so for the soap to become very firm to the touch. You can speed the cooling by placing the mold flat in your refrigerator.

When the soap is completely firm and set, gently pop each soap out of the mold. They should separate from the mold’s sides with some gentle twisting and come out cleanly.

My second batch of soap was mint. You’ll repeat all the same steps as with the calendula soap. Begin by cutting soap cubes and then just add the chopped mint in with the glycerin. The longer you allow your mint soap to cook on the stove over low heat, the greener it will become. I added a few drops of eucalyptus and mint essential oils to the warm pot. The smell is calming and relieves stress.

You can add your reserved tiny mint leaves into your mold if you wish. They won’t stay exactly in place when you ladle in your mint soap, but you will be able to see pretty whole leaves in your soaps after they have set.

In this photo, you can see my two different pours. The greener bars were poured from soap that had been on the stove longer. The natural green from the mint leaves colored the soaps. I like them both.

A finished mint soap, with lots of gorgeous herbal goodness visible.

And here’s a darker one. This soap was on the heat longer and became a dark green.

Here is the finished calendula soap, with pretty golden-orange petals showing inside.

Homemade soaps make wonderful gifts for family, friends, and teachers. Consider adding a mint and a calendula soap to your outdoor adventure box or your first aid kit. Use both types to cleanse and to heal.

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 all went on a nature walk yesterday to one of our favorite areas on the American River. We like it because it’s close, it’s beautiful in all seasons, and it’s a nature preserve. Lucas has done many day camps here over the years and he really knows the place well and feels very comfortable and confident there. The day was warm, but not too hot. We took Solstice along with us, but learned that we’re supposed to keep dogs out of the nature preserve. So we skirted the edges of it and made our way to the river and back again.

The sun was shining so beautifully through the trees. We saw many deer on our walk, and lots of butterflies, and some quail. Things scuttled away from our feet into the grasses—probably lizards although we didn’t see them.

Everything looks like a potential landscape painting to me now.

We found a treasure along the way.

Solstice is getting better at walking on a leash, but still has a lot to learn. I’ve never seen him touch the water on purpose before, so this was interesting. Usually he is fastidious about keeping his paws clean.

We relaxed a while at the water’s edge.

There were sticks to poke and rocks to throw. Lucas spotted a crawdad in the water.

We watched the rafters and kayakers float by. Almost everyone waves from their little boats, which is a funny, friendly quality about being in nature and encountering other people. We seem to retreat into anonymity so much of the time while we go about our daily business, but out on a trail, under a big sky we tend to be better about saying hello and striking up conversation.

We made that typical warning that parents make—If you get all wet, you might be uncomfortable on the hike back. It went entirely unheeded, as expected.

Now, we are new dog owners, you see, so we learned something important on this little hike. Ticks really do jump onto your dog and even people. This has never happened to me before. Three little buggers hitched a ride home with Solstice and one with Ian. We were able to treat the problem quickly, so all is well now. This info will be retained for future precaution.

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.

While I try to refrain from complaining here most of the time, I also know that I appreciate a little reality check once in a while. As a blog reader, I like to see writers reveal a human face. I like to see that people—even blogland-perfect-seeming people—make mistakes, struggle with decisions, have a messy house or a scattered mind. Truth. I like it.

Truth is, things are kind of a shambles around here these days. Asher got the flu last Thursday. Ian got it on Saturday. Both were quite ill through Easter. While Asher has recovered some of his bounce, both he and Ian are still a wreck, with terrible coughing. Asher is emotionally all over the place. I got the sick yesterday, complete with 101 degree fever and chills. When I woke up this morning, it was clear that Lucas finally had the flu, too.

We’ve been stuck at home now for the better part of the last five days. I got out for a bit last Saturday to see friends at a garden birthday party, which was fun. Easter Sunday was subdued. I met with some colleagues on Monday night.

Yesterday I somehow edited a 4,400 word chapter with a fever. I have no idea how well I did that work. But a rush editing job is rush, whether I am sick or not.

It’s not all rotten. Just mostly rotten. We have watched more videos in the last four days than in the last several months put together. Today we finally managed to get the dishwasher and the clothes washer going. Together, like a shamble of zombies, we folded four loads of clean laundry that were stacked up and beginning to topple over, so that it was getting hard to tell clean from dirty on the floor. We are keeping the chickens and the dogs and ourselves fed. Last night’s rain meant that I didn’t have to try to water today, which is something I doubt I could have done. Lucas has practiced his piano.

I missed painting class. I have taken no photos since Easter. We’re eating ramen and egg salad sandwiches and fish sticks.

Ian plucked up his courage yesterday and did a couple of errands. He went out to buy me a new nebulizer because mine is broken, in anticipation of some bad wheezing brought on by this illness. That’s true love, man.

Did I mention this is Ian’s and the kids’ spring vacation? Yeah. Sucks. In the midst all of this, we’re wrestling with a pretty big decision. Tempers are short. And yet, we carry on.

Well, it’s Friday evening. Good Friday, in fact. It has been a good Friday, if I look at it from the right sort of angle. Life doesn’t always (read: almost never) follow according to plan, you see. So when it doesn’t go just how I expect and I manage to roll with it, I consider that a win.

We had some dear friends over for a sleepover. Alas, poor Asher fell ill right at dinnertime. The party went on around him, and he tried his best to stay cheerful throughout. A touchy tummy and a mild fever can weigh a boy down, though.

And while I don’t like exposing other people’s children to our germs, and tend toward feeling really guilty about this sort of thing when it happens, their sweet mama said, “I’m not worried. It’s too late to save them from germs, so they might as well have some fun.” So, although Asher had a couched and run-down kind of day today, Lucas was able to carry on playing and enjoying himself and his friends.

We visited and made some Easter cookies—at least, we got some baked before our friends had to go home. The boys and Ian and I carried on decorating them ourselves. As you can see, we pulled out all the stops.

We have plans for the holiday weekend, but we’ll just have to see what happens. Poor Asher has just been sick all over.

—Painting by Edith Holden, naturalist, artist, author, and art instructor (1871-1920)

Well, hello March. It’s been so long, and I’m delighted to see you back again. February and I don’t get along as well as I would like, but we’re making progress and our relations are more comfortable in recent years than they used to be. But you, March. You are lovely, a breath of potential that stirs me up and fills me with a yearning for adventure and romance.

Spring Signs

Everywhere the wind blows

There goes spring—

Red kites and blue kites

Are tugging at the string.

Walks have hardly dried

Until marbles roll about

Long before the colored flowers

In the fields are out.

Maybe there is frost yet

And a touch of snow,

But there are little spring-signs

Where the children go.

—Mildred Bowers Armstrong