Our tree is beautiful this year. We drove up to fetch it from Apple Hill on a perfect weekend in early December. The tree farm was part of Boa Vista Orchards, where Christmas trees and apple trees still wearing some autumn colors were growing practically side by side.
The golden leaves in the orchard and the gnarly apple trunks in late afternoon sunlight were to die for.
There were a few grumbles this year à la, “Why do we have to take all this time to get a tree? Can’t we just go to the local tree lot?” Because Mama wants to, that’s why.
The hot apple donuts that came with our tree purchase made up for the inconvenience, I think. They were amazing!
And, despite our late-day start, we even got home before it was completely dark, and enjoyed this beautiful sunset as a companion on our drive down into the valley.
The boys and I enjoyed rediscovering our favorite ornaments while Ian cooked dinner for us. Thank goodness for Soma FM’s “Christmas Lounge” stream, which is our traditional decorating-the-tree soundtrack. I wonder how my kids will feel about this tradition when they’re older. I know I think back fondly on the tree-hunting trips to the mountains that I made with my family as a child.
In late November, we enjoyed a terrific day at the Great Dickens Christmas Fair in San Francisco. The boys had never been before and the last time Ian and I were there was probably 15 years ago. We left a rainy Sacramento to drive to the city, where I got to admire our pretty bridges and took some fun shots out the car windows. (Don’t laugh, they’re worth it.)
The Fair does an excellent job of representing a Victorian London “where it’s always Christmas Eve and the streets resound with celebrations of the season!” Chestnuts, puppeteers, street musicians, stage shows, Bobbies in uniform, gangs of urchins, card players, and dancers enliven the place. I don’t remember it being so elaborately textured and staged! Honestly, it’s a feast for the senses.
I got to dance a bit at Fezziwig’s Christmas party.
We watched dear friends perform and dance. That’s Bryn and Nicole there, playing with the Bruno Band.
Ran into Ebenezer and the Ghost of Christmas Present—you know, this fellow:
We bought the boys wands as souvenirs. Asher chose Harry Potter’s wand. Lucas got a beautiful custom wooden wand.
After a while, Asher reached a melting point. We realized that from his shorter perspective, it was all a bit overwhelming. I wish we could have stayed a little longer, but when you have to leave, you have to leave. The city glowed under stormy skies for us on our way home.
We said goodbye to Lucas this morning. He went off to school and won’t return from there until Wednesday evening. His class is in the middle of a chemistry block, and they are staying overnight on the farm to build and mind a lime kiln.
Yes, we totally had to look up “lime kiln.” Thank you, Wikipedia:
“A lime kiln is used to produce quicklime through the calcination of limestone (calcium carbonate). The chemical equation for this reaction is
CaCO3 + heat → CaO + CO2”
The experience is a recreation of lime plaster, as produced through a series of chemical transformations, known today as the lime cycle. Lime plaster has been used by humans a building material since 5000 BCE.
Lime Cycle diagram by Peter Bell
“Calcium oxide (CaO), commonly known as quicklime or burnt lime, is a widely used chemical compount. It is a white, caustic, alkaline, crystalline solid at room temperature. The broadly used term “lime” connotes calcium-containing inorganic materials, in which carbonates, oxides and hydroxides of calcium, silicon, magnesium, aluminium, and iron predominate. By contrast, “quicklime” specifically applies to the single chemical compound calcium oxide. Calcium oxide which survives processing without reacting in building products such as cement is called free lime.
Quicklime is relatively inexpensive. Both it and a chemical derivative (calcium hydroxide, of which quicklime is the base anhydride) are important commodity chemicals.”
The teacher informed us, “Today’s children have little opportunity to observe actual industrial processes. Almost everything comes magically ready-made and packaged. Nevertheless, the lime cycle studied in 7th Grade chemistry offers an opportunity for the students not only to observe an important industrial process, but to build and fire a kiln used in the process.”
So. SCIENCE! Chemistry. Construction. Fire. Campout at school. Social Arts. Collaboration. 28 seventh graders and three teachers tending a fire through the night in November. Plus a large support staff of parents. I am still amazed at the lengths to which these people will go to give our children a hands-on learning experience.
Now, Lucas is unenthusiastic about this experience. (The current phase of seventh grade seems to involve a lot less enthusiasm for everything. And lots of sighing and rolling of eyes.) He knows it will be cold and hard. He knows he will finish school on Wednesday and have to go straight into the first basketball practice of the season. He knows he will be tired. He won’t be home until dinnertime.
Here are some photos from the trip Lucas’s seventh-grade class took earlier this month to the Balclutha, an 1886 tall ship moored in San Francisco Harbor. Many thanks Ms. B for making this possible and to Frau S. for taking photos to share with us landlubbers back home. The kids were on the ship for an afternoon and a night, about 18 hours. Some kids had to work in the galley. Some had to swab the deck. They all had to stand watch during the night. At dusk they suspended their class teacher up in the rigging and extorted privileges from her before they’d bring her down. Lucas came back very very tired. The last shot is the flag some of the kids painted, which flew while they were aboard.
First day of school, September 2, 2014. Lucas is in seventh grade now. He is handsomer, and more grown up every day. (Alack! He is 5 feet 1.25 inches tall now!) He is bracing himself for more and harder schoolwork. I think he knows the stakes are higher and more will be expected of him. I’ve seen him mature a good deal over the summer. He is ready.
Asher is starting second grade. Asher really didn’t want to go (this is the only shot he let me take in the morning before we drove to school). Asher gets a little nervous. I choose to take this sad face as evidence that he really enjoys his family time.
But he jumped right in as soon as he saw his friends, playing tag, racing up the play structure, and then horsing around in line before shaking his teacher’s hand and going into the classroom.
Asher says recess is the best thing about school. He is excited about music class, with Ms. Greenberg. “It’s so fun!” Main lesson is boring, he says (they are beginning with Form Drawing). He likes German and Spanish, but German more. He hates Eurhythmy. So basically, he’s right where I’d expect him to be. My beautiful precocious boy is right on the cusp of learning to read. He cracks this joke all the time in a silly English accent: “I can’t read!” But soon, that won’t be true any more.
We did it! We finally took our two kayaks out for a spin (really) on Lake Natoma on Sunday. A number of years ago, we were given two kayaks by my parents’ friends, the Joneses. They are sit-inside whitewater river kayaks, the really nimble kind that can flip over and back up, the kind whose pilots wear helmets. The first obstacle to enjoying this generous gift was we didn’t know how to use them. The second was that our boys were still rather small. The third was that we had no way of transporting them to any body of water.
So they sat. And waited.
We have a truck now, though, (we call it Bruce) and on a whim Sunday, we decided to see what we could do with these kayaks.
We also rented a two-man sit-on-top kayak for Asher to ride on. He took to it like, well, a little boy on a boat! He loved jumping off and swimming in the lake too. “Wow, this life vest really makes it easy!”
The kayaks we own have rounded bottoms without a keel. Paddling them in a straight line is tough. When I was piloting mine, I could go straight for a handful of strokes, and then the kayak would spin toward my paddle in the water to point in the opposite direction. This repeated spinning was frustrating. Ian had better luck than I did, using a ton of core strength and the foot pegs to counteract the spinning force.
Lucas was a natural, really. He has way more experience with this sort of thing than the rest of us do, thanks to summer camps and stuff. He piloted one of our kayaks with good success, despite the spinning tendency. I regret not getting a shot of him in the kayak, but I was justifiably worried about dropping my phone in the drink.
We learned a lot and had fun. We learned that this little lake is a wonderful local resource that we should use more often. We learned that mama shouldn’t leave the sunscreen in the truck with the snacks. We learned that renting a kayak is a little pricey, but very nice (and easier to pilot than ours). We learned that Asher loves the water (we kind of knew he would). We learned, again, that Lucas is a competent young man who loves a challenge.
So thank you, Joneses, for this amazing gift! We hope to enjoy these kayaks more often in the future.
My sweet 12-year-old left this morning for his first sleepaway camp experience. He and six friends from his school (most from his same class) left for Camp Winthers, which is in the mountains not too far from our city. We are very excited for him and we’re sure he’s going to have a wonderful time. He had a little trouble sleeping last night because he was anxious, but I don’t think he’ll be feeling that way for long. I think he looks a little guarded in this photo.
This is the same summer camp that Ian went to when he was a boy, and later, as a teen, he worked as a camp counselor there. He assures us that they will keep Lucas so busy with fun activities he won’t have time to be homesick. Ian has already send Lucas a care package so it will reach him before the end of the week.
He will canoe, hike, play, learn, swim, and explore all week. He’ll have no little brother or mama or dad nagging him. He’ll be with some of his best buddies for five whole days.
I’m very grateful that Lucas got to go on two week-long trips earlier this year with his class and teacher. They were great practice for this first opportunity to be without parents or a familiar teacher. My son is a kind, sensible, competent guy, who has great friends, and who makes friends easily. I am pleased he’s getting the chance to stretch his wings in this way.
Just after school let out a week ago, we took off for the mountains. Originally we were going to stay a few days in Tahoe, but some work obligations shifted around and we ended up changing our plans and making just a day trip to Valhalla Renaissance Faire at Camp Richardson in South Lake Tahoe. As we drove to the Faire, I mentioned to Ian that I’d never before stopped at one of the tiny turnouts at the summit on the edge of cliff a couple thousand feet above the Tahoe valley floor. Before I knew it, he was pulling over so we could look over the edge.
Asher wouldn’t get out of the car, but the rest of us got to look down into the valley and at the beautiful blue of Lake Tahoe off in the distance.
I had a Groupon for the Faire admission, but I have to say, it was almost more trouble than it was worth; we had a hell of a time getting online to the Groupon to get into the Faire. Next time I’ll have to print the damn coupon instead of relying on the phone. Maybe it’s my carrier—Credo—but I have a heck of a time using the Internet on my smart phone up there.
Anyway …. the Ren Faire was super fun and the boys enjoyed it. The most spectacular feature was the jousting by Imperial Knights. Great show, beautiful horses.
This fellow has been doing his show Fowl Tales with his macaws for years and years. Gypsy has been with him 42 years.
Unsurprisingly, Lucas was fascinated by all the weapons sellers’ wares. Like father, like son. I could see Ian sizing up the sellers based on his own extensive experience hawking swords for Mayhawk armory at Black Point, Navato, back in our college days. Spending the day at the Faire was an interesting trip down memory lane.
Asher found this cool giant bubble-making booth.
We saw the show of Captain Jack Spareribs. Ventriloquism!
Lucas found the archery to be a little disappointing. The bows weren’t up to the quality he’s become accustomed to.
We ate yummy Faire food and drank expensive beers and wandered about. We enjoyed seeing Nicole and Bryn and RJ, whom we almost never get to see. The boys were tempted by the real and toy weapons and I admired the woodcarving and the jewelry. So, yeah. It was a pretty normal and fun Faire experience—a thoroughly enjoyable way to spend a 78 degree day when it was 105 degrees at home!
It’s a celebration around here. There was a big class party for the sixth grade. The first graders had a swim party yesterday. They are done for the year, and are dreaming of lazy days of pure fun. In honor of this special day, the last day of school, I present this evocative poem by Whittier.
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy,—
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art,—the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye,—
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
Oh for boyhood’s painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor’s rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools,
Of the wild bee’s morning chase,
Of the wild-flower’s time and place,
Flight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;
How the robin feeds her young,
How the oriole’s nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow,
Where the ground-nut trails its vine,
Where the wood-grape’s clusters shine;
Of the black wasp’s cunning way,
Mason of his walls of clay,
And the architectural plans
Of gray hornet artisans!
For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he walks,
Face to face with her he talks,
Part and parcel of her joy,—
Blessings on the barefoot boy!
Oh for boyhood’s time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw,
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches too;
All the world I saw or knew
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!
Oh for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl of milk and bread;
Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,
On the door-stone, gray and rude!
O’er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
Of the pied frogs’ orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir,
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch: pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy!
Cheerily, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt’s for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil:
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!
My Mothers Day began with coffee and reading in bed (heaven). Asher proudly presented me with a painted card he made at school and a gift box containing his own precious glass jewels and marbles. This boy loves to give gifts. Lucas gave me a lovely watercolor painting he made.
Then I brunched with all my guys at dog-friendly Lido in Carmichael. Strawberry french toast, eggs, sausage, and mimosas hit the spot. Afterward, we visited the best local nursery, Green Acres, in Folsom. (Oh, how I miss Capital Nursery in Citrus Heights, but spectacular Green Acres soothes the ache.) Because it’s a bit of a drive to get there, we just have to browse longer. Every time I stopped to admire a plant, Lucas suggested I get it. I love that my boys support my habit.
My family bought me several new goodies for my garden: a pretty yellow grandiflora rose, a six-pack of California poppies, salvias (the hummingbirds love these, and therefore I love them), red-orange impatiens (which I’ve never tried before), and some vibrant coleus for my shade garden.
Aren’t these gnomes at Green Acres funny?
We also visited Ian’s mom and my mama, to make Mothers Day complete.
Back at home, I did my first real check of our drip watering system and found many leaky problems. I repaired some of them, but there’s more work to do before I can confidently set it and forget it during our drought. I didn’t get anything planted, but that’s going to be fun to do this week as time allows. Ian made a gorgeous dinner of steak, artichokes, salad, and potatoes.
I felt pampered indeed. I hope you enjoyed a happy Mothers Day too!
Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.
Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.
