(photo from Imbolc celebration 2007 by Mark Kelly; used with permission)

Today is the Celtic fire festival of Imbolc, which is so deliciously wrapped up also in the Catholic festival of Candlemas, the Irish Saint Brigit, and the goddess Brigid, who is the Celtic Triple Goddess. I find all these synchronicities and conflations of culture, myth, ritual, and worship to be fascinating.

Imbolc welcomes the warming sun, ushering it back into the world so that spring may come. It’s said that if Imbolc (and Groundhog Day, which is tomorrow, February 2) is sunny and bright, winter will hold on a good long while. If the day is sunny, then the Gaelic divine hag, the Cailleach, can gather plenty of firewood for an extended winter. If the day is stormy, then she’ll sleep in and the winter will end sooner because she will run out of firewood.

The goddess Brigid is associated with fire, with early spring, and is the patroness of poetry, smithing, medicine, arts and crafts, cattle and other livestock. Her symbols include arrows, bells, thresholds, and doorways. Several animal correspondences are also tied to Brigid, particularly ewes, dairy cows, bees, owls, and serpents. (Thank you, Wikipedia, that will do.)

Today I learned that Saint Brigid was a patroness of students, and also founded a school of art, including metal work and illumination. She is known as Saint Brigit of Kildare, or Brigit of Ireland (variants include Brigid, Bridget, Bridgit, Bríd and Bride), and was nicknamed Mary of the Gael.

She’s awesome, right?

(photo from St. Joseph Catholic Church in Macon, Georgia)

Two years ago we were able to have a lovely family Imbolc celebration, which I blogged about here. This year we have been very busy with preparing for Asher’s sixth birthday, and his birthday party is happening tomorrow on February 2. I honestly don’t think I have much in me for Imbolc this year, except to quietly observe it and take comfort in knowing that winter is now halfway over. We are closer to spring now, and that’s a joy and comfort.

My hope for tonight is simple because I need a rest. Glass of wine. Fire in our fireplace. A little crafting to finish up for tomorrow’s party. Maybe over the weekend we’ll roll some new beeswax candles to light our home and warm our hearts. We’ll take it slow, and if candle-making happens, great. If not, that’s OK too. For me, this is a festival of home and hearth, and snuggling in with our beloveds.

In honor of Brigid’s association with poetry, I offer a poem I wrote for children last year. OK, don’t laugh.

(“Beneath The Snow Encumbered Branches” by Joseph Farquharson, 1903)

Wool Dreaming

Shepherd, shepherd,
Tend your sheep
In the snowy yard.
Rams and ewes, heavy with lambs,
Endure the winter’s cold.

Shepherd, shepherd,
Take good care
Of charges in your fold.
Their wool will be a comfort
To newborn, young, and old.

Shepherd, shepherd,
Feed them well
That their fleece grows soft and fine.
I would like wool warmth to wear
All through the wintertime.

—by moi, Sara E. Wilson

My eyes are trained to the sky these days. I eagerly await these pretty winter sunsets.

They can be quite spectacular, I find. In the winter we get some beautiful cloud cover, so the sunsets are wonderful.

Sometimes I catch them with my camera. I rush to the end of my street, where we have a big school field.

Or I shoot from my doorstep. To me, these moments are peaceful and promising. If you are patient, you get to see a whole story of color unfold before your eyes. It’s like a reward at the end of the livelong day, if you take the time to notice it.

Sometimes I pull my car over to take a photo. My kids think I’m nutty but it’s worth it.

I love this one I took at my parents’ house. Their daffodils are coming up, so spring is on its way. Just thought you might like/need to know.

I was recently nominated for an award of sorts at Circle of Moms. Some kind soul (I don’t know who) nominated my blog for the Top 25 Creative Moms list there and folks can vote for their favorite blogs. The voting continues until the end of January and you can vote for more than one blog, once each 24 hours. I’d be honored if you’d vote for me, and keep voting for me. It would be very nifty to get into that Top 25 list.

This button takes you to the voting site. Vote for me!

I’ve never been involved in one of these things before, but there’s always a (typically awkward) first time, right? It’s neat because I’m planning to ramp up and improve my attention, involvement, and content here. So please check back often for new, more useful material. A girl with a writer’s soul just has to write. And a girl with an artist’s eye just has to share her visions.

In other news, my little guy turns six years old in two weeks. I’ve finally figured out the outline of his birthday party and sent invitations. Usually I’m more on top of things like this, but I’ve been working quite a lot lately. Well, we’re getting RSVPs back now, so that’s great. Crisis averted!

I’ve got a few homemade gifts in mind for him, and must carve away some time to work on them. I am making Asher an Earthbending costume, inspired by Avatar the Last Airbender, which is a show that my whole family adores. Great story-telling, good characters, plenty of heart, and featuring themes of friendship, commitment, duty, forgiveness, family, courage, peace, and finding one’s own way, Avatar is good TV. Asher has always liked the Earth Kingdom in the show the best. He has started dressing up for play in recent months, finally using the King’s costume I made for him two years ago. I think this Earthbending outfit idea is a winner.

Yesterday we scouted the location of his “Fantasy Wizards in a Forest” party.

This place will fit the bill nicely, I think! This is a is 17 acre undeveloped park right here in Fair Oaks, just five minutes from our home. It features tall, beautiful eucalyptus trees, a tiny creek with mossy banks, green meadows, fallen logs, wild mushrooms, and plenty of crisscrossing paths that you might call “trails.” Our plan for the party is to allow the children as much space to roam and explore as is safe. The park is big enough that it feels wild, but not really big enough to get lost in, and I expect a small gaggle of 6- and 7-year-olds to make plenty of noise.

Wishing you a bright and happy day!

This is the beautiful Auburn Recreation Area, which is just 25 to 30 minutes’ drive up the hill from where we live.

We went hiking there with the boys in early January. It was a beautiful day and we all had lots of fun.

We found some glorious rock formations right at the river’s edge that looked like a huge castle. The children naturally climbed to the top immediately.

We were reminded that we all feel good when we go on nature walks together; we get out of our house and routine, we leave the argued-over toys and housework behind, we get to bring our fluffy friend Solstice along, and we can be together with a little buffering space between us. The boys like to roam out far ahead and that’s so good for them. Ian and I can have a conversation. It’s inexpensive. Overall, it’s really a great solution for family fun.

We tossed stones, looked for dragons’ eggs, found great sticks, climbed, and explored. Perfect.

We have been having really nice weather (if a little cold for my taste), and that inspired me to ask my dear friend Nicole to go on a local hike with me on the American River parkway while the kids were at school. As much as it is good for my kids to be out in nature, so it is also good for me!

We went on a Thursday in the middle of the day. We walked for two hours, got just a bit happily lost, and then found our way back again. This is an amazing pond area we found right near my kids’ school, isolated from the running river. I don’t think this body of water is there during the summer, but I could be wrong. I’m hoping I can find it again.

This is the iconic Fair Oaks footbridge.

Such a pleasant way to spend a few hours! We are going out again this Thursday—grown-ups and no kids. But you can bet Ian and I will be doing another winter hike with our kiddos soon enough!

How are you enjoying nature this winter? Are you skiing? Snow-shoeing? Playing on the beach?

Winter days can be long and dreary if you don’t find happy ways to pass the time together indoors. When weather is especially inclement, take the opportunity to sit down with your children and draw. Even if you don’t consider yourself to be artistic, your children will most likely be delighted to have you by their side, making art. The impulse to create is so very strong in children. As parents and caregivers, we can nurture their creative impulse by modeling creative behavior.

Materials

• paper
• block crayons and stick crayons
• inspiration photos from books or Internet
• a story about animals in wintertime, perhaps

Tutorial

Take a little time to play with the crayons. Experiment how you can make different kinds of strokes and lines. Block crayons are beautifully suited for shading, blending, and giving dimension to your pictures.

Donna Simmons, author of Drawing with your Four to Eleven Year Old, says “By pressing firmly or lightly, you can achieve both depth and movement in clouds or sea, for example. Wavering strokes of red, yellow and orange can bring fire to life. Direction of stroke can also emphasize muscling or roundness in animals, depth in caves, or distance of, say, mountains in the background.” Her book holds specific tips for drawing in Kindergarten through Fifth grade Waldorf curriculum.

Picture books or books with lots of inspiring photographs are always nice to have around. We found this fox photo online and drew using it as our example.

My 9-year-old’s drawing of the fox in the snow

My drawing of the fox in the snow

Here are some general drawing tips for children:

• Avoid outlining.
• Aim to capture the mood or movement of your subject, not the superfine detail.
• Young children need not worry about eyes, whiskers, nose, etc.
• Try to find your subject’s major shapes: where are the circles, ovals, triangles, and rectangles? Use these instead of outlining to avoid adding too much detail too soon.
• Block out where the figures will fit on the page to help make them large and bold. Some children resist using the whole page.
• Finish your picture with a decorative border.

My son’s drawing of an owl at night

You may find that you need to lead by example. After story time, try drawing an animal in your story. Or while your child is having free time, try drawing beside him or her. Encourage your child if he or she chooses to draw with you. “I like to be with you like this.”

Avoid saying things that imply a judgment of the child’s work (“good drawing,” “sloppy drawing,” etc.). Instead try to find something that you can comment on that feels neutral. “I wonder if that fox has cold feet.” or “What a fluffy coat it has!” Nor should you say that your own drawing is “bad” or “didn’t turn out right.”

Practice and your own drawings will improve. We are all learning as we go.

Display drawings made by your child. A wooden “card stand” works well for displaying small drawings. A cork board works nicely for larger ones. Refrigerators are a good standby, too, for showcasing family art. And never underestimate the delight a child will feel if you should put his or her artwork in a real frame.

It’s January, so that means snow, right? Well, it does mean snow in lots of places, but not here in Northern California. So, we usually make our own snowflakes to brighten what inevitably becomes a month of fog and rain and mud. These snowflakes are made with Borax laundry booster (sodium borate) to add an ice crystal texture and shine. It takes a few days to make these.

Materials

• white paper or coffee filters
• scissors
• Borax laundry booster
• plates
• boiling water
• needle and thread

Tutorial

Start by cutting out your snowflakes. I tend to love very lacy snowflakes, but for this project I suggest you leave some nice solid areas. My son Lucas theorized that small cuts were better for these, and he may be right.

Boil a little water on the stove. Pour it into a glass mixing bowl and then add Borax until it will no longer dissolve into the water. When you see some borax sitting as a sediment in your bowl, you know your solution is right.

Place each snowflake on a dinner plate. Pour a little of the Borax solution onto the plate—just enough to cover the whole snowflake. Now you wait.

The Borax will start to crystallize on the paper and plate. As it dries, the water will become clearer. You can gently pour off the excess water to speed the drying process. Allow the snowflakes to dry completely, the very carefully pry them up off the plate with a butter knife.

Some of the Borax may fall off, but most of it will stick to the paper. With your needle and thread, sew a few stitches at the top of your crystal snowflakes and then hang them in the window where they sun can glint off their crystals.

Enjoy!

Materials

• white wool batting
• a board, such as a painting board or serving tray, to serve as a base
• figurines (gnomes, animals, people of any material you have)
• driftwood, bark, sticks, pine cones, rocks, etc.
• small bit of silk

Tutorial

This winter playscape can be assembled inexpensively and remade again and again. It can be either temporary or permanent, as you wish.

Buy a bag of wool batting. This material is often used as stuffing for toys or pillows, or can be wet-felted or needle felted. It is extremely versatile for all kinds crafting and fiber arts. It often comes in one- or two-pound bags. Tear off a layer of batting to make snow and place it on your playscape base. Add other bits to cover your base. Try to add a hiding place, such as a wooden cave or build a little den make of driftwood or sticks. Layer some more snow over the top of it.

If you have a small bit of silk, you can create a silken creek, perhaps. Now add some figures such as gnomes or animals. Or add some people.

You might also add a special rock or two. If you have a mama and baby animal pair, they might like to cuddle into the den you made. Resist the temptation to fill the scene or complicate it will too many toys.

Leave this simple scene for your children to find. They will elaborate upon it, change it, and remake it as they play. Their fingers will be warmed and comforted by the feel of the soft wool. They will respond to it and the feel of the wood and rocks in this simple scene.

If you find your child playing with the winter scene, ask him or her to tell you the story of what‟s happening. Or just listen to the play.

(When the play is done, the wool can go back into your craft supplies to be made into something else.)

It was a beautiful glowing dawn on this Winter Solstice day, with a vivid slice of a rainbow in the west—a very nice way to end the solar year. I’m both grateful for all we enjoy—our blessings are truly innumerable—and hopeful that the new year will bring more love, more laughter, more art and play and leisure, and more light.

Dimmest and brightest month am I;
My short days end, my lengthening days begin;
What matters more or less sun in the sky,
When all is sun within?
—Christina Georgina Rossetti

Our sun does shine within, through all our trials both great and small. Each day we wake and pour our love and light into the world. We do our best.

I’m not one to dwell on signs, but I’ll happily take this one: a rainbow as a parting gift and a cleansing, cold rain to bring in the new solar year.

Good people all this happy tide,
Consider well and bear in mind,
All that strong love for us can do
When we remember our promise true.

Now love itself stands in this place
With glorious beauty and pleasant grace;
To welcome us with open heart
And raise up welcome in every hearth.

Whatever life on us bestows,
Love’s mantle round our shoulders goes
Remembering this day’s delight,
To bring us help and mercy bright.

When darkest winter draweth near,
The light is kindled without fear;
Love sparks at Midwinter so deep,
This blessed time in our hearts keep.

When coldest winter draweth near,
Turn we to joy and make good cheer;
Remembering our vows so strong,
We raise our voices in this song.

Drive darkest want and need away,
Remember we this happy day.
Call love to witness, everyone,
And dance beneath the winter sun.
—Caitlin Matthews

Today is full of preparations. I braved Costco for our holiday food shopping and left only when I couldn’t fit anything else in the cart. We had five guests over after school, a kind of unplanned end-of-term party. My boys are ready for a rest, which is not to say that they aren’t brimming with excitement about the holidays. They are just ready for some snuggling-in time, some extra time with each other and with Mom and Dad.

We are celebrating the Solstice tonight with a big pot of chili and a golden cornbread. We’ll have a fire in our fireplace and give lots of love to our little Solstice dog.

One year ago today, this golden fluffy creature bounded into my home with great excitement and settled in. It took me a while to accept that he was staying, but that was true only for me. Everyone else adopted him from the first moment. Now, I can honestly say, he has been a shining light of love and comfort among a whole lot of difficult stuff that happened in 2012. We’ve decided that today is Solstice’s “birthday.” Now we have even more to celebrate on the Winter Solstice!

Blessings of light and love to you on this first day of winter. May your hearts be full to overflowing, so that you may spread warmth, light, and cheer through all the dark days of winter.

Blessed be.

Our second week of Advent was full of plant goodness. We got our Christmas tree from a local lot—our schedules didn’t permit the usual trek up to the foothills to cut a tree at a tree farm. Rather than worry about that, we nabbed a gorgeous tree in about 10 minutes flat and had a whole afternoon to leisurely decorate it, while enjoying Christmas music, hot tea, and candy canes.

It’s truly a beautiful tree, even if this photo isn’t.

I love unpacking our ornaments. This year, both boys got into the spirit of hanging ornaments and they told some of the origin stories themselves.

With boughs from the tree lot and bay laurel from my tree, I made a fresh wreath for our door. I bought a wreath last year and had the presence of mind to save the wire frame, so making this was a breeze. It cost me $1.50 for the reindeer and the ribbon. We made the stars last year and I love them.

I had enough boughs leftover from the wreath project to make a whole garland for my mantel. It looks very much like last year’s mantel except for the real greenery. I adore the straw stars.

Ian and the kids put up lights on our house and I added ornaments to some trees by our front door. It’s all rather festive!

My garden currently features green tomato vines that I am gradually feeding to my chickens, growing cauliflower plants, and sugar snap pea shoots popping up in a pot. The tree out front is still full of golden stars. The heavenly bamboo is sporting gorgeous red bird berries.

I’m happy to have the Steiner practice of celebrating the four kingdoms during Advent to guide the schedule of some of our holiday traditions. It helps to have things spread out over the month instead of all at once, in an overwhelming tide of stuff-to-do. This week was indeed full of plants.

The truth is, I feel kind of stupid even writing about all of this because none of it matters in light of the tragic event in Connecticut. It has shaken me deeply—and I may be dwelling on it too much. What does it matter that my silly traditions go on, or happen on schedule? That we spend time beautifying our home and making it ready for the light and laughter and friendship and love that is our Christmas? It matters not at all compared to life and death and ultimate loss.

Or maybe it does matter.

Getting back to normal, participating in all the everyday acts of love and friendship, and celebrating life are the path to healing, I think. And it feels awkward and weird and yet what else is there to do? We hold our loved ones close, spend quality time, hug our friends, protect our children, and invest in love and beauty, happiness, grace, and gratitude.

I guess. It’s my strategy for now, anyway.

May we all find moments of happiness and peace in the coming weeks. May we find a way to celebrate and heal.

We’ve had buckets of rain in the past week. Our jacuzzi has stopped working again, due to flooding. The chicken run is a soupy, smelly mess. The pretty leaves have largely fallen from the deciduous trees in the neighborhood, but my liquidambar is still full of golden stars.

The palette of my surroundings is fading. Bright oranges, golds, russets, and crimsons are vanishing, giving way to more muted tones. Browns and grays, straw, and dusty greens—punctuated by lurid, store-bought red and green for Christmas—are the colors of December in Northern California’s central valley. The transformation is gradual and a few flowers seem to have missed the memo. I’ve seen marguerites shouting “yellow!” at the top of their voices, and a few purple irises are confused enough to bloom even in the heavy rain.

A couple of weeks ago, we took the boys to a local amusement park called Funderland, which has been in operation in Land Park as long as I can remember. The day was perfectly glorious, the kind of day November hopes to achieve—with sparkling, flaming trees and crystalline skies.

The rides, horseback riding, and pretty slanting afternoon sunbeams inspired many shining smiles.

And plenty of autumn frolicking.

It was a wonderful day. Land Park had lots of finery to show off while we were there.

Thank you, November. Your brilliance is fortifying.