We took a little nature walk last Sunday, after we were reunited. The boys had spend the night before at Grandma’s and Papa’s house and it seemed like a little quality time outdoors would be just the right thing.

Moments like these fill up my heart. In the future, when we’re having disagreements or struggles, I hope that such photos will remind us how much love we have always shared.

We were lucky to come across this handsome young buck.

My eyes were peeled for signs of autumn, which I found in yellowing oak leaves and blue-gray October skies. This was an industrious woodpecker!

Most things are dry and gone to seed; this yellow flower is being watered at the Nature Center.

Love this turkey hen’s bright red wattle.

Yellow leaves, yellow grasses, yellow flowers, and a yellow fungus.

This little doe crossed the path behind us. We got a great look at her as she leaped away.

Other hikers had told us of a big rattlesnake on the trail and three of us tried hard to find it. Asher thought that was a terrible idea. We never saw the snake, but found this great discarded snake skin.

So many beautiful sights to see! More on my Flickr.

Even though we were hungry when we finished, I think our walk was a huge success.

(My first wet-on-wet watercolor painting in … many years!)

It’s Friday and our son’s school is celebrating Michaelmas today with a festival and dragon play. Lucas’s third-grade class will be the village children and will do a country dance. Tonight our family will have a modest celebratory meal with dragon bread.

This festival is speaking to me more each year. We all face our own demons every day. We strive to subdue or conquer them so we may shine our inner light into our own lives and the lives of those we love. And the world is a brighter place for it.

Saint Michael’s Harvest Song

In autumn Saint Michael with sword and with shield
Passes over meadow and orchard and field.
He’s on the path to battle ‘gainst darkness and strife.
He is the heavenly warrior, protector of life.

The harvest let us gather with Michael’s aid;
The light he sheddeth fails not, nor does it fade.
And when the corn is cut and meadows are bare
We’ll don Saint Michael’s armor and onward will fare.

We are Saint Michael’s warriors with strong heart and mind,
We forge our way through darkness Saint Michael to find.
And there he stands in glory; Saint Michael we pray,
Lead us into battle and show us thy way.

—Anonymous

Think wisely,
Speak well,
Stand upright
And St. Michael
Will lead you
from darkness
to Light.

Yesterday afternoon, after school, the boys and I pulled down some Crayola modeling “clay” (in exciting day-glo colors) that we had on hand and sculpted dragons in honor of Michaelmas. We spent a happy 30 to 40 minutes sculpting, with each of us working on our own dragon.

Lucas’s sculpture was ambitious! He sculpted the Archangel Michael battling the dragon within a ring of fire! He is justifiably pleased with the result. He certainly remembered the story well.

Asher got to use a plastic knife! Big fun.

Here is my dragon posing next to Asher’s dragon, which morphed a lot during our crafting, just as you would expect for a 3-year-old. His dragon also got lots of lovely dragon play.

Here is a needle-felted dragon I made last Sunday. I had some time in the company of some of my favorite people in the world and my hands happily worked on this while we were visiting. I think he needs some fiery breath!

Some of my research into Michaelmas has brought me to these lovely resources, which I gladly share. I am actually still debating about whether to cook a Michaelmas meal today or save it for Friday, when our school will celebrate this festival.

Waldorf Library

The Parenting Passageway

Rockin Granola

Rudolf Steiner Archive

Mama Roots Branching Out

I knew we were destined for a pizza dinner; Ian was sick and he does most of the cooking around here. The kids love pizza and it’s really easy at the end of a long week to slip into a take-out meal, but who wants to spend $30 on pizza?

The stars were all aligned:

• It was 4:30 and I had a bit of time.
• I had harvested eight gorgeous tomatoes from our family garden the day before.
• I had fresh, organic veggies from our CSA delivery.
• I had bread dough in the fridge, ready to shape and bake.
• I had assorted cheeses and meats on hand.

I’ve never made pizza sauce from scratch before. It’s really very easy. Fresh tomatoes, red chard, onions, garlic, fresh oregano, dried basil, and about 2T organic tomato paste.

We call this “finger salad” at our house. When we don’t have lettuce or spinach, we just pull out all our other salad veggies and serve them with a dollop of dressing for dipping.

It looks like an all-meat pizza (chicken, salami, and bacon), but the sauce contained lots of fresh veg. Hiding the veggies helps ensure that Asher will eat them. This whole meal was unscripted: The only thing that was hard to guage was how long to bake the pizza for. I had to put it back in for another 12 minutes. Next time I’ll know to bake for about 30 minutes to cook the crust more.

Every slice was eaten up!

Asher is now settling into his new school. By the end of his second week he seemed quite at home and not nearly so clingy and sad at drop-off time in the mornings. Honestly, there’s so much to love at Starbright Garden Waldorf Nursery School. And although we dearly loved our old preschool and teachers with all our hearts and didn’t wish to change, we are now enjoying this new adventure.

The gardens are gorgeous and full of flowers, fruit-bearing trees and vines, and veggies. I noticed grapes, tomatoes, beans, squashes, kale, herbs and more.

Two cats, a tiny dog, and two bunnies are happy companions for the children. This is Matches. She will fling herself down in front of you to get caresses and cuddles.

There are beautiful sights everywhere you look, including bells and a star on the garden gate, and a “bean” house covered in bean vines and morning glories.

This is the rooster. He greets the children each morning with his enthusiastic crowing. (I’m glad he lives at school and not in my backyard!)

The pomegranates are still green right now, but in a couple of months they’ll be ready to eat.

This is where the children eat during good weather. The teacher is very committed to serving Nourishing Traditions foods. Indoors is a beautiful, light-filled playroom that is filled with Waldorf toys and surrounded on three sides by floor-to-ceiling windows.

Besides Mr. Mountain, pictured here, there is also a sandbox and a playhouse. Asher has been reunited with this friend, G, with whom he used to play at Ring-A-Rosies. This boy has featured heavily in Asher’s imagination adventures for more than a year now, despite their separation. Happily, they are fast friends now, too!

Caramel and Charcoal are the two bunnies. They run and chase each other in the rabbit hutch.

So, although change is sometimes difficult, especially when you are happy with the way things are, thankyouverymuch!, change can also bring new friends and experiences that enrich our lives and enliven our minds. It also offers us an opportunity to increase our flexibility—a perfect and timely mental workout for 3-year-olds (and 38-year-olds).

It has been a kind of surreal week, trying to get back into our normal lives and starting school after Burning Man. We’re kind of discombobulated. We’re not used to the alarm clock or waking in the dark. We don’t know where important stuff is. The mountains of both clean and dirty laundry are huge and taking over our living room, despite the washing, folding, and putting away I’ve been doing. We need groceries. The kids need haircuts and we forgot to take the fingernail polish off them. I guess that’s what the weekend is for.

I’ve been feeling lots of various feelings this week, too: happy to be home, lazy and sleepy, creative and happy, grateful for my work but not wanting to do it. During the day I’m missing my loves and yet glad to be alone. I’ve not quite settled back into real life again; my consciousness is kind of floating on the dusty breezes still, drifting through vast azure skies.

Lucas is very happy to be back at school. I find this quite remarkable, as he didn’t exactly have a sit-around-and-do-nothing summer vacation. He was basically booked solid with fun camps, activities, and play dates almost the entire time. I guess that final week and a half without his friends was tough. So he’s been joyfully bouncing out of the house in the morning (and getting dressed without prodding or argument). When I picked him up from school yesterday afternoon, he looked bushed. “Four classes now, Mom.” That’s because he’s hit the big time: In third grade he now has full days and doesn’t get out until 3:30.

This week hasn’t been quite so easy for Asher, however. He’s adjusting to a new school, new teacher, and new schedule. After something like ten days with all of his family around him, he’s missing us at school. He’s been asking each morning if it’s a family day today. (“Tomorrow, dear one. Two family days in a row.”) We had a few difficult morning drop-offs, during which he was brave but oh so sad to see me go. In another week it will be different, I think. He’ll settle in soon. We are very pleased that his three buddies from his last school all landed at this one. So although there are new children to adjust to, there are old friends as well.

Asher’s school has a waterfall and small raised pond (fenced per state law), a rabbit hutch with two bunnies, chickens, a playhouse, a stage, a sandbox, an outdoor snack area, garden beds and fruit trees, swings, and stepping stones through the lawn. Indoors is a lovely, sunny playroom full of pretty Waldorf toys. There are two big cats (Matches and Barley) and one tiny dog named Poppers. This morning’s good-bye went better. I think it’s going to work out fine.

I’m still not entirely sure what to say about Burning Man, nor what pictures to show here. My heart is full of love and gratitude. We have endured and celebrated nature, the elements, life, humanity, friendship, silliness, joy. My impressions of Burning Man are swirly and colorful.

Nevada desert on the way to the playa

Sunset after a brief rainstorm

I am so glad we went, and especially glad that we camped with so many wonderful friends. Our campmates were super fun and very patient with our small taggers-on. They helped us look out for the boys, entertain them, and graciously shared their “space yogurts” (yogurt in a tube) and other goodies that were novel and exciting. Two friends even volunteered to babysit one night so Ian and I could have a much-needed date!

Our children were brave in the face of not only a hostile environment but also a Saturnalian one, where grown-ups generally don’t behave as usual, where instead they act silly, dye their hair pink, dress in funny clothes (or none at all), and spend their time playing, adventuring, or lazing about. It was a place where you might gleefully talk with strangers and give a made-up playa name just for the fun of playing at being someone else. Best of all, our boys got to see that play is for everyone, that all human beings need long stretches of time to do nothing, or only what we want to do, and that these moments are crystalline and pure. Climbing, running, jumping, dancing, flying kites, making friends, laughing and telling jokes, creating art, falling in love, being—these are the things that make life worth living.

Lucas climbing a pole on top of the Nexus nightclub

Super fun Genesha art car that passed us by one day

A dust-weary Asher, me on the afternoon of the burn, and our dashing Agent Daddy

Lucas fearlessly walking a tightrope about 10 feet off the ground

This tuna art car drove by during one of our family bike outings

Asher’s very first kite-flying experience; hold on tight!

My boys playing boccie ball

Decorating our parasols like jellyfish; Lucas jumping on a trampoline; Asher dancing with the Salmon of Knowledge

Lucas and Asher also got to see, and we ourselves were reminded, that challenges are worth facing because the rewards are often great. Braving our fears or walking out into the unknown is our task, our surest course to learning who we are and what’s important to us. By purposefully venturing into a desert of nothingness, we fill it with our hopes and dreams and remake ourselves. I watched both of my children, in their own individual ways and according to their ages, encounter their limitations and push past them, gaining confidence and respect along the way.

It was a different kind of Burning Man for me and Ian. Having our kids along was a ton of work and we spent much (most?) of our time making sure that their needs were being met. Keeping two sensitive children safe and happy, hydrated and fed, rested and slathered with sunblock in the desert is pretty much a constant effort. Ian worked ceaselessly to take care of all of us. There was a lot less aimless wandering just to see what there was to see. There were moments I felt despair because I thought I was missing all the fun, but mostly I let that fleeting feeling wash over me and away, and we managed to relax into a new kind of Burning Man experience. We got more sleep this year on the playa than ever before, thanks to the boys’ tuckering out and needing to be home and in bed fairly early. We ate like kings, with lots of fresh produce and barbecued tri-tip dinners. We spent more time near and in camp, which meant time together as a family and with our peeps. We let Burning Man come to us much of the time, and the sweetest folks wandered into our communal shade and spent time with us. Our camp gave out water, drinks, food, advice when it was asked for, a place by the fire, and generally enjoyed that special/sacred hospitality relationship. To all the desert beauties that we met, thank you! You’re my little potato.

Lucas is VERY happy to have seen the Man burn this time! Here he is after the burn on Saturday night. I’ve never been in such a whiteout before! For long moments the Burning Man disappeared from view completely, then eerily reappeared through the waves of flying powder.

The truth is we saw a teensy-tiny slice of Burning Man, maybe 1 percent of what was out there. However, what we saw was wonderful. We are tired and a little sad to have to resume normal life now that we are home again. We are loving this breathtaking miracle called running water. My thoughts are dreamy and I feel like I need a rest after my vacation. I feel a creative pulsing in my veins.

All in all, Best Family Burn Ever.

One more day at home
One more day of food shopping
One more day of packing
One more day of costuming
One more day of planning
One more day of waiting

Burning Man: some thrift purchases

Burning Man: chariot for Asher (before picture; it’s way cooler now)

Burning Man: stacks of Lucas’s clothes, folded surprisingly neatly

Burning Man: flags sewing project

Burning Man: painted toes

Burning Man: laser fingers of doom

I’m so busy with work I almost didn’t notice, but sometime this week (August 22nd? 23rd?) marks the seventh anniversary (7th!) of my self-employment.

In August 2003, I left the best job I’ve ever had to stay home with my 1-year-old son, Lucas, because frankly I couldn’t hack leaving him with a nanny every day.

I think I made it all the way to the end of that generous, third “reintegration” month, working three days a week at the office and two days at home. That’s when I realized it’s not normal to cry every day you go to work. (During my morning commute, at my desk, in the bathroom, at lunch, on the way home.) Maybe a little at first—but after three months, it was starting to look less like a “difficult transition” and more like depression.

After a lot of soul searching and a hasty look at my bank account, I threw caution to the wind and quit that great job. It was the right decision for me and my son. It was the right decision for my mental health.

I left to go freelance with no freelance experience. No savings. No contacts. No babysitting. Not one tiny clue how to run a business. And it was seven years ago! Did I mention that part already?

I’ve had some really hard years. I’ve had a few spectacular years. I’ve had many, many late nights working and I’ve lost many weekends to my projects. I’ve had seasonal work with ultra-busy months and dreadfully slow months. I’ve had hundreds of days with my kids that I would not otherwise have had. I say yes to stinky projects sometimes. I am occasionally so busy I have to say no to gems.

I’m the boss. My own boss.

And while I may have a tendency to be nostalgic about those old office days, with old office friends and everything else that went with office life, I’m not sorry.

Because, when you factor in all the various pros and cons, tally all the tick marks, and weight it all up, I now have the best job I’ve ever had.

Busy, busy, busy summer! We still have three and a half more weeks off school and I’m pleased to say I am not so fed up with summer vacation that I’m ready to tear my hair out like in other past, lonely summers.

I’ve been working steadily and the kids have greatly enjoyed their various activities (preschool, summer camps, swim team, playgroup play dates, and lots of time with friends.) I have gobs of work to do in the next two weeks before our trip to Burning Man, but I’m keeping calm and carrying on, as they say.

I’m happy to report that I’ve even been able to squeeze in a little reading for pleasure, which isn’t always possible in my world. Here’s what I’ve been reading, in addition to all the books I read to my kids:

Little House in the Big Woods, by Laura Ingalls Wilder

The classic, just as you remember it, which I may or may not have read when I was a kid. It seems to me I read some of these books, but I really don’t remember them. As farming and domestic arts are a big part of the third-grade curriculum at Lucas’s school, I’m pretty sure this is on the reading list for this year. We are starting now to read it aloud. Next up, Farmer Boy.

Magyk (Septimus Heap Book One), by Angie Sage

This is a newish fantasy series for the 9- to 12-year-old crowd. There are at least five of these Septimus Heap books. The back cover says that fans of Harry Potter will love Septimus Heap, which is why I bought it. I tend to agree, although there are plenty of differences and unique characteristics in this fantasy world. I would be happy to read this aloud to the younger children in that recommended age group; it’s not too scary. Orphaned children, plenty of magyk spells, a dragon boat—really what more could you ask for?

Inkheart, by Cornelia Funk

What can I say? I love children’s fiction! Inkheart is the first of another fantasy series for children 9 to 12 years old. This is one of those books about a book—a fascinating and dangerous world leaks out of the pages of a book and into our world. Villains abound in this story, and their dastardly deeds go unchecked, but for the efforts of a bookish girl, her book-restoring father, and a homesick loner thrust out of his storybook and marooned here. I’d say this series is better for those on the upper end of that age bracket, even for precocious readers. It was very fun and I’m looking forward to reading the sequel. Meggie is a wonderful 12-year-old heroine who loves books—like me!

Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse, by Robert Rankin

I bought this book for its title alone. Rankin is kind of a mix of Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams, and this book has a liberal dose of Who Framed Roger Rabbit, too. It’s a murder mystery set in Toy City, where toys and dolls walk and talk and drink alcohol. It was fun and irreverent, and I’m curious about Rankin’s other books, but I think this novel should have wrapped up about 40 pages before it actually did.

The Gates, by John Connolly

I’ve never read John Connolly before this one, which I picked up at the library because it had a nifty cover and was featured in the “new titles” section. The protagonist is 11 years old, but I’m not quite sure if this book is a juvenile novel or an adult novel. I would recommend it! Very fun. The gates of hell open up and assorted demons escape into an English suburban community. Only the boy and his dog understand how evil the neighbors down the street really are.

The Robber Bride, by Margaret Atwood

I’m still trying to get through this book. For some reason I put it down and picked it up repeatedly. I’ll guess the reason is simply that life happened. This is my first Atwood book—I know, I know. I should have read lots of her work before now—at least The Handmaid’s Tale—but I haven’t. (I blame all the ninjas and zombies.) So, despite the fact that it’s taking me forever to read this novel about five women, one of whom has profoundly betrayed all the rest, supposedly died, and then reappeared to intersect their lives again should not reflect on the author. The fault is mine. Atwood’s book is has a rich and intelligent plot and her characters sing on the page. I hope to finish this one in the next week or so.