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.

My guys were home sick today. They’ve picked up a cold and Ian and I are trying to deny that we have a tickle of it, too. Despite it, we had a good day. The boys were surprisingly cooperative both with me and with each other. They played with some of Asher’s new birthday presents, invented a kind of D & D game with Ian’s old dice, and did some chores. Lucas read and Asher did a lot of singing, improvising a song about gnomes and magic and adventure. They both wrote and drew in their journals.

Later they enjoyed painting each other’s faces with some new face paint crayons. As you can see, they were very fierce. Asher was a mighty dragon with wicked claws.

Lucas was a kind of magical warrior.

They were thorough. And cute.

We also started the valentine making. This year, both Lucas and Asher need class sets of valentines for all their classmates. That’s 55 valentines, folks.

Asher’s valentines are pretty simple. (Keep It Simple, Sara!) We might add glitter later if we feel like it, and I’ll have to write “Love, Asher” on each of them. Lucas is doing his own thing this year. He’s not so keen to do a project. Mostly he wants to make cards and write on them himself. So, yay! Independence! I get to help a little by cutting out hearts.

We also practiced spelling words today, even though Lucas missed his quiz. We had exciting fruit smoothies for snack, with fresh pineapple and blueberries blended in. Lucas and I worked on our Gryffindor scarf knitting project a little, too. And we watched some “Shaun the Sheep.”

I worked a bit, in between activities, but not enough. So, back to chapter 9 then.

These days are drifting by me. My children still have a few days of winter break left, and we are in a sleepy sort of stillness here. There are arguments, of course, and normal life chores to do, but we are also lounging more, playing more, reading more. Although the weather doesn’t feel all that wintery, we’re still deep in the quiet stream of short days and long nights.

Now that the excitement of the holidays is passed, we can just be. So far, I’ve been able to relax into this period of rest. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been sick, and so sleeping in late or spending time on the couch with a book seems good and justified. NOVA programs are my good friends right now.

There are walks and visits, overnights with friends, and, just a few days ago, we enjoyed an epic New Year’s weekend of homemade roller disco and hours upon hours of delicious social time. We play with new toys and eat together and find moments to sift through belongings, then let items go to others who need them more than we do. The boys’ scooter and trike have had extra workouts this week. These activities are comfortable and easy to me, despite the child-made sound effects and the bickering. I don’t know if my expectations for this time are higher or lower than normal, but whatever it is, it’s working. I feel rather like I’m mentally hibernating.

Today I felt the first inkling of the What-If Harpies, which arrived with some news. They started in with their usual doomsaying. I told them to go away. I’m too busy resting to worry right now.

This afternoon I watched a fat, robust squirrel drink from my birdbath. He approached boldly as though he does this every afternoon, which he may very well do. I’ve just never seen it before. I watched him drink his fill, then hop down, rip a bit off a nearby garden plant and then sit atop a rock and eat it as his salad course.

I have a new, light-brown shadow. It seems as though this little foundling dog is staying with us. We have had not a single nibble, despite our efforts to find his family. Not even a mistaken call from a worried pet-owner hoping we have found her pet. Ian went back to work yesterday and in his absence the little dog stayed by my side all day long. He likes to cuddle or sleep beside me; if I move, he’s up and ready to go along. He does not wish to be left behind. I have so much to learn about having a dog. And yet this tethered feeling is very familiar.

The truth is Solstice is a joy for us all. I’m hoping hoping hoping that my illness is illness and not a bad reaction to him. The doctor gave me meds today for a sinus infection, so I guess if I start to feel better, that’s a good sign that my condition isn’t being caused by the dog.

I’ve faked my way through knitting about a quarter of my first sweater. I’ve flubbed a bunch of things, but also used a number of techniques for the first time. I consider that progress. I wonder what my mother will say when she sees it. She is both my cheerleader and teacher in this sort of thing. I’ve arrived at the body portion with too many stitches and a hole where I clearly dropped one, and yet I press on. I like the colors a lot and I am kind of astonished at the beautiful stripes that are appearing as I work. This sweater is for Asher. I figure there’s about a 20 percent chance I’ll finish it and a 2 percent chance he’ll wear it. But … if I did … and if he did … wouldn’t that be wonderful?

I’ll leave you with this sweet and insightful post by Team Studer: 25 Rules for Mothers with Sons because it made me feel nostalgic and appreciative of everything my sons are and are becoming. And now a walk I think, and then perhaps some tea …

These holy, family days have been so full. We are enjoying. Resting.

Coloring.

Playing with so, so many wonderful gifts.

We have had long, luxurious visits from friends, and a sweet party that we are very honored to host.

The little dog, Solstice, is a great joy to us all. We still don’t know where he is from. We haven’t had even a single nibble on the ads we placed, hoping to find his owners. In the meantime, whatever the outcome, we are enjoying him ever so much. And now I have someone new and fluffy to point my camera at.

We’ve been reading new books in our leisure and drinking too much delicious coffee. Nursing head colds.

Experimenting with magical ice … to see what we can make, of course.

Cutting snowflakes and folding window stars. (LOVE!)

After all the working>making>striving>doing>going> leading up to and including Christmas day, we are now fully and happily settled into our hibernation days, our holy, family days. There is plenty to do—very little of it is urgent. So perhaps we’ll do some laundry. Or cook. Or play more Legos or a game. Or go for another walk instead …

Or climb a tree …

while we learn more about each other …

and see what we can find along the way.

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.

It’s Santa Lucia Day today. My stjärngossar (star boys) helped me make Lussekatter (Santa Lucia buns) last night.

It worked well to have them help mix the dough, then later form the buns before bedtime.

Aren’t they pretty? I should have been more liberal with the egg yolk wash over the top and I should have had my oven a little cooler. I don’t do this kind of baking very often because if I did I would EAT all the buns. This year we used the “traditional Lucia buns” recipe that our kids’ Waldorf school provided. It worked beautifully. I used a bit of saffron, which may have been too old to color the dough much, and some cardamom as well for some kick. I didn’t have raisins on hand so we used dried currants instead.

2 packages active dry yeast
1/2 c warm water (about 110 degrees F)
1 1/2 c warm milk
1 c sugar
3/4 c butter, softened and cut into pieces
1 egg
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon saffron (or use 1 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom and 1 teaspoon grated orange peel)
about 7 1/2 c all-purpose flour
about 1/2 c raisins (or currants)
2 egg yolks mixed with 1 1/2 tablespoons of water

In a large bowl combine yeast and water; let stand 5 minutes. Warm the milk and add the saffron to it. Blend in the milk, saffron, sugar, butter, egg, and salt. Stir in about 6 1/2 cups of flour to form a stiff dough. Turn dough onto a lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic. Add flour as needed. Place dough into greased bowl and then turn over. Allow to rise in a warm place 1 hour, until doubled in size. Punch dough down, knead lightly again. Pinch off balls of dough about 1 1/2 inches in diameter and roll into a rope about 10 inches long. Curl ropes into S-shapes or into double S-shapes to make a curved cross. Put raisins into the centers of the curls. Cover and let rise about 1/2 hour, until almost double. Brush well with yolk and water mixture. Bake at 400 degrees for 10 minutes. Check often.

I also made this beautiful braided loaf. I don’t know if I have ever made anything like this before and I am so pleased with how it turned out. Next time I think I’ll turn down the oven just a tad and bake only about 22 minutes.

This morning, for Santa Lucia, I warmed the braided bread loaf and put candles in it. I drizzled a bit of powdered sugar glaze over the top and it was yummy! The kids took some Lussekatter buns to school for their teachers. And I had my dad over this morning for coffee and some bread. Then I indulged in watching several YouTube videos of Lucia festivals in Sweden. I love the music.

The night goes with heavy steps
around farm and cottage;
round the earth the sun has forsaken,
the shadows are brooding.
There in our darkened house,
stands with lighted candles
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia.

The night passes, large and mute
now one hears wings
in every silent room
whispers as if from wings.
See, on our threshold stands
white-clad with candles in her hair
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia.

The darkness shall soon depart
from the earth’s valleys
then she speaks
a wonderful word to us.
The day shall be born anew
Rising from the rosy sky.
Saint Lucia, Saint Lucia.

Carl Larsson, “Lucia Morning”

I admit I love these lesser known (at least to us) holidays. Our family can celebrate them or not, as we like and as our lives and time permit. We can make them what we wish because there aren’t loads of people whose needs have to be considered, nor are there decades of family tradition to hold to or break, with all the accompanying risk that goes with breaking it. We don’t hurt anyone’s feelings by doing our own thing because no one in our extended families celebrates holidays like Saint Nicholas Day or Santa Lucia Day or Candlemas or Saint Patrick’s Day. With just a little effort I can make otherwise ordinary days special for my children, just by choosing to celebrate. And these holidays don’t require a month or more to get ready, the way that Christmas does. So these festivals will be a part of our family until they no longer serve us and enrich our lives in this way. For now, we’re are enjoying them very much.

Asher is sick today with a cold. I apologize to everyone he came into contact with over the last two days; I hope we haven’t gotten anyone sick. He had a rough night last in our bed, which means none of us slept well. I confess I find it hard to be a compassionate mother in the middle of the night when a thrashing child is alternately pawing at me and randomly punching my face.

But look at him. He looks tired and sad. Today we’re taking it easy. I went out this morning into my backyard and gathered up all the spare pieces of wood I could find. These are all the sticks my kids find and bring home, bits of home carpentry projects, bits that fall off our trees in winds, etc. These are the pieces of wood my kids bash each other with at every chance they get—swords, knives, spears, scimitars, poleaxes—you get the picture. Then I lit a fire for Asher and me.

Unfortunately, this novel entertainment will end soon, as we will rapidly run out of wood to burn.

So we are playing LEGO by the fire, while it lasts. Asher is telling me about Earthland, and his pet dragon, and pontificating about what color of fire is the most dangerous—blue, in case you didn’t know. I expect we’ll spend a good part of the rest of the day on the couch.

He tells me I should build ships that do better things than science vessels. Apparently my science vessels are boring.

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.

Ian

I am grateful for …

your humor

your smile

your ceaseless, devoted love

your boundless curiosity and need to know

your intelligence and courage

the way you hold me at night and I melt into you

how I can always find safety in your arms

your tireless caretaking and delicious cooking

the way you will play Legos for hours, create movies and games, build with, cook with, read to

and otherwise spend time with our children

they soak up every moment with you

the way you do the things I don’t want to do because you want to spare me

the way shield me from news or stories that will hurt me

our sweet children,

with all their random noises and sticky fingers and smelly feet

how they are intense and playful

learn every moment,

and trust that their world is safe and beautiful

because it is

they are the gifts we gave to and share with each other

and they crack open my heart to make it bigger every day

our health

and healthy relationships

our community of creative darlings

and loving family

how we are nestled in among all these loving people

who share with us their stories and wisdom and passions

our beautiful, wacky home

with its hundreds of colors and clutter of goofy, artistic treasures

its happy memeories

its fullness and warmth

its laughter and chaos and rhythms

how it always has enough

the way we are always filling it up with our friends

the garden, which is our labor of love

that pleases me with each blossom and every leaf

and reminds me to celebrate small things

These things, and so many more, are my blessings and I’m grateful for all that we are and all that we have built together—for so many of my blessings circle back to you, my love.

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.