I can’t say much about these Christmassy doings yet. Some of what we are making are for our kiddos, but some are for friends and family and I don’t want to spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say, we are spending some cold, cold hours outside in the garage …
We are struggling to find secret moments without the boys watching …
And I am using power tools!
I think I’m safe in sharing this now, given I’m pretty sure Asher doesn’t read my blog yet. This is a Christmas gift for him.
I am repurposing a sleeveless linen blouse of mine into a king’s or knight’s tunic. I don’t wear this anymore, and the fabric is so soft and lovely. I’ve bought new buttons that look like medieval devices to replace the buttons on the blouse.
I am also sewing him a fancy crown to wear. I have noticed that the children at his preschool all race to claim the fancy gold and silver fabric crowns that are available for pretend play. I am hoping this will be just the perfect gift for him. (Honestly he doesn’t want for anything.) What’s doubly awesome is that I already had this gold lame in my stash. Thank goodness for all those costume parties, no?
I bought the ribbon trim and the jewels for this costume. The hand-sewn crown is almost finished. I want to hot-glue the jewels, in addition to stitching them on.
I’m planning on sewing the ribbon trim onto the tunic as well. The final touch will be to sew a cape onto the shoulders of the tunic. My vision is that it will all be one piece (tunic and attached cape), and I have a gorgeous purple peplos that I’m sacrificing to make the cape.
Wish me luck! Today is the last day of school, so from this afternoon on, my kids will be home and working on things secretly will become trickier.
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.
Although I used to go all out when wrapping gifts, in recent years I’ve become … let’s say … somewhat busier and lacking time for such frippery. In fact, lately, my answer to labeling packages at Christmas has been simply to pull out my black or red Sharpie and scribble directly onto the wrapping paper. Frankly, it kills me to spend money on this stuff.
I’m still lacking time, but this week I had a sick boy home for two days with a fever, and whenever that happens he begs me to come up with things for him to do to pass the time at home while I’m working.
So, we made some simple gift tags from recycled (repurposed?) paper. Not fancy. Not fine. But fun, useful, and it couldn’t be easier.
Yep. It’s a paper grocery sack, cut roughly into squares and stamped with my two Christmas stamps. My mother-in-law gave me the snowman when she retired from teaching third grade. The tree stamp is one we bought to make gifts about five years ago. I love it when we can do a project without buying anything new.
I’m not sure why, but I love the paper that grocery sacks are made from. Maybe it was all those years I covered my schoolbooks with them. Anyway, if you follow the folds of your grocery sack, you’ll basically cut squares. It wasn’t at all important to me that they be perfectly square or all the same size, or anything like that.
Lucas did a great job stamping these. They need only a “To:” and a “From:” added, don’t you think? (There’s a job for my Sharpie!) If you wanted to, you could get fancier and paint on some glitter or something.
Voilà! We’re one tiny step closer to being ready for Christmas.
We have our Christmas tree now! We fetched it last Saturday from the bargain store for $10. Although driving up to an Apple Hill tree farm and cutting our own tree is one of my favorite family traditions, we felt this year that being frugal with both our time and money was a fair trade-off. It’s easier to adapt if your traditions don’t have you in a stranglehold, I think. And being adaptable is important.
Ian’s very handy with a Sawzall. Doesn’t he look handy? Our bargain Douglas Fir tree is fresh and smells wonderful!
We got it all decorated in one afternoon. To me our ornaments are like old friends; I’m glad to see them every year. Lucas was touched by all the “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments that are his. (I regret that we don’t have many of those for Asher.)
I’m surprised at how many Waldorf wool angels we now have to hang on our tree!
Then we played with funny glasses from Captain Jack’s Smiley Bar to see smiley faces on our tree! Thanks T!
And thank goodness for SomaFM’s “Christmas Lounge” station—it’s Christmas music recordings that you mostly haven’t heard before. Happy listening!
The seasons around here are mellow for the most part; they flow into one another, back and forth—a bit like a river meeting the ocean, where fresh and salt waters intermingle with the tides. So autumn meets winter in Northern California, little by little. They exchange pleasantries and take turns, like friends having a conversation. A biting, cold day kissed by Jack Frost makes way for warm autumn sunshine and shirt-sleeve weather, then we pull on sweaters again.
Our trees are taking their time. Some have already disrobed for their long winter’s sleep, scattering their colorful garments about them and delighting small leaf-pile jumpers and kickers. Some trees are still carrying on in their resplendent finery, like this one in my parents’ yard, into the darkness of winter. Personally, I resolve to admire their colors for as long as they last.
These plum leaves and the elm leaves litter my front yard in great patches of red and yellow. This is where they mingle.
Rainstorms offer opportunities to tromp about in the wetness and mud, to observe the green mosses. The jolly mushrooms are back!
Cloudy skies bring some dramatic sunsets.
Our liquidambar (sweet gum) tree has finally turned orange! In the afternoon sun it is glorious.
Cooler temps bring a new kind of bounty. We’ve watched the neighborhood squirrels steal all the pecans over the last couple of months. I put out some birdseed yesterday to feed the birds; I like it when they visit our yard. They ate all the berries off my dogwood tree, but were far too intuitive and fast to let me catch them on camera.
Today is gray and cloudy, but we might see sun later and a high of 64 degrees. We’re attending Lucas’s school Winter Concert this afternoon. Day by day we march toward the solstice, and we bring a little winter dazzle inside. We coax and conjure winter with our rituals.
My Lucas is inventive. Dashingly, diabolically inventive. He seizes any opportunity to turn an idea into a three-dimensional object. At 8, the name of the game is hands-on.
The arrow is made of a bit of dowel and is sharpened by rubbing the tip on the concrete. The fletching is a feather from one of our chickens. The bowstring is rainbow nylon string from the hardware store. What? You have rainbow string lying about in your junk drawer, too, right?
Lucas’s bow shot the arrow beautifully and quite far.
Lucas also made a quiver, using a handkerchief he had painted during summer camp, a finger-knitted strap he made, and a glue gun.
Later on, when Lucas took his bow and arrow to show Papa, Papa helped him refine the whole thing. The original bow bent too far and it got weaker with time. Together, Papa and Lucas made a new bow with a stouter stick. Papa tipped Lucas’s arrow with a drilled-out lead bullet. Why, you ask? (That’s what I asked.) To make it safer. The arrow was originally so lightweight and straight, it flew too far—far enough to accidentally hurt someone. The blunt lead tip on the arrow ensures that it falls to the earth quicker and won’t pierce … say, a little brother, for example.
“Can I wear my snow gear to school today? It’s wet outside.”
“Yes.”
~~~
“Let’s walk, Mama!”
“In the rain?”
“Yeah! I have my boots. It’s fun!”
“Yes, it is. Let’s go.”
~~~
Do you ever have days when it seems like all that comes out of your mouth is no? I do. Do you ever find that all those noes, which are of course reasonable, justifiable, appropriate to the present circumstances, etc., seem to pile on top of each other until you and your children are smothered in them? I do.
I find that some days the noes are so very heavy, and they accumulate in great drifts of disappointment and anger. They’re depressing. They’re aggravating. They cause trouble.
In an avalanche of noes, tempers flare. We bash into one another emotionally. My stress levels rise. The children bicker more.
Even when every no placed on the pile is the well-meaning kind, sooner or later, the mountain looms, casting shadows and sucking the fun out of the day.
I’m trying to be mindful of this. I’m trying to turn my noes into yeses. Yesterday was a Yes Day. I just resolved to say yes as often as possible.
~~~
“When we get home, can I go play outside? I want to pick some rosemary to make my rosemary tea.”
“Yes.”
“Can I put some lemon in it?”
“Sure, honey.”
~~~
“Can we have popcorn with Parmesan cheese for snack?”
“Yes.”
~~~
“Can I light my special birthday candle that my teacher made for me?”
“Your May Pole candle? In December? Um … yes.”
~~~
“Mama! You come and play with me in the playroom?”
“Yes, OK.”
~~~
“Can we have a fire in the fireplace?”
“Yes. That sounds nice.”
~~~
“Can we eat a bit of chocolate?”
“A little, yes.”
~~~
“Mama! You come and be the tickle love monster and you chase us!”
“Yes! Here I come!”
~~~
“Mama, will you please snuggle me?”
“Oh, yes!”
“I am a fluffy snake dragon bunny,” Asher said.
“Do you have a fluffy tail or a long tail?” Daddy asked.
“I have a fluffy long tail.”
“Do you have ears like a bunny or no ears like a snake?”
“I have ears like a bunny,” Asher said.
“What part of you is like a snake?” inquired Daddy.
“My feet.”
“Princess! Listen to my words! You stay by me. I will betect [protect] you in the Land of Car! I am a warrior,” Asher explained as we wandered down the road early in the morning, heading generally in the direction of preschool.
We fought a dragon on the way. “Ting! Ting! Ting! Ting! Shink!” I’m sure I saw the tree stump cower.
We found some interesting things to look at: some pretty leaves, some goopy, leaf-choked puddles. Some lawns are covered in stars of all colors.
A car almost squished us. “Look out, Princess! It’s very dangerous!”
Having a warrior along while walking through the neighborhood can be a big help. It can also be somewhat … hair-raising. Warriors who are “7 years old” (really 3.75) are erratic at the best of times. Sometimes they dawdle, examining every stick along the way. Sometimes they rush haphazardly—forward, or even sideways. Sideways makes me nervous in the morning school drop-off traffic—the Land of Car.
“Princess! This is a magic puddle! I have to walk in it. How ’bout you be my mama duck Princess and I be your baby duck warrior?”
We walked a little closer to school. We balanced on white painted curbs. We watched the squirrels and the birds.
“Mama, I’m a betective. That means I’m in charge and I betect people. I train good dragons and kill only bad dragons. I ride on a dragon!”
We passed moms and dads hurrying their kids to the local school. Some of them smile at us.
“Mom, I’m gonna teach you how to run fast.” Perhaps we would get there faster if we ran, but honestly I would miss the meandering. I see and hear more when we go slowly.
