So, Friday again. There’s always such gorgeous POTENTIAL in Fridays, such HOPE, so many dreams and plans. How will we fill our weekend? What weekend joys will fill and fulfill us over the next few days? Around here, we call weekends “Family Days.” I know we have family days every day, for we are never really far from one another. But “Family Days” is the name that means something to my children, and it helps us grown-ups remember that these two days are important, no matter what we end up doing (even if it’s just chores and hanging out). Family Days are special. Daddy is home with us all day. There’s less routine (like little boys waking up even earlier than usual out of excitement) and more resting. A bit more reading. More breathing out.

It’s funny, the expectations I carry. I want my Family Days to be idyllic and restful, peaceful and restorative after a hard/busy week of bouncing to and fro between kid activities and work. I also want Family Days to be packed with exciting projects and fun, tons of friends and laughter, special foods and adventures away from home—all to fill up our hearts, minds, and eyes.

Oh Friday, where will you take us?

Lots of weekends look a lot like work days for me. Today I’m imagining that apart from all that dreamy fun, adventure, social time, and rest we’ll have this weekend, I’ll also get gobs and gobs of freelance work done. Yes, this is where that time machine comes in. I’m awaiting its delivery. Should be any day now. I have my receipt around here somewhere …

On deck for this weekend:
• Getting our hens!
• Finishing coop/chicken run chores (yikes!)
• Getting some straw and feed and chicken sundries
• Tons of editing work for me
• Dinner with friends
• Some swimming, hopefully—it’s damn hot
• Grocery shopping
• Making snacks and popsicles

This morning, my kiddos were READY for Family Days. Asher whined, “It’s NOT a school day. It’s a Family Day! We play together today.” I know how he feels. Although he rallied and adjusted his attitude to going to preschool, he gave me a set of assignments for today: “Spray your plants. Work on your computer. Build with blocks on our zoo. Then when I come home, I’ll say ‘Good job, Mom! You did good work today!’”

We’re getting chickens!

Grandma’s next-door neighbors are relocating to Rhode Island and they must find a new home for their five hens. Since we’ve been talking about getting chickens for about two years, we decided that now is the time. The hens are two years old, tame,  and laying. Perfect! The coop they are presently in cannot be moved as it’s more of an outbuilding than a coop, so we have to build our own chicken house. In our area, there are plenty of raccoons, opossums, and skunks who would love to feast on our girls, so we have to provide them with a safe home.

We visited the hens on Saturday just to make sure our children wouldn’t be terrified of them. I wanted to discover any phobias before we invested the time and effort into moving the chickens to our home. Then we set out for the local feed store, a place I haven’t been in many, many years. We met the chicken expert and pecked his brain a bit, then Ian started designing and figuring and calculating and masterminding.

On Sunday, we hit our home improvement store to buy building supplies. Then we came home and started work on our coop.

Lucas hammering

Asher hammering

Measuring and marking with his new carpenter’s pencil

My husband is so clever! And handy! And handsome!

Endless fascination

Asher did his natural work of mimicking and playing with the hardware. (He also did an amazing interpretive dance wearing mardi gras beads and a sword—LOVE.) Lucas was a big help to his dad and kept on task through most of the day, keeping a good attitude. Both boys are over the moon about getting chickens and promise to do their chores.

The coop is coming along well! After the first day of construction it already has a raised floor, back, and sides. Next is putting on the roof, building some nesting boxes, and putting on the front doors. The boys were so cute while helping Daddy yesterday. We made good progress over the weekend, but there’s still a long way to go, including sinking some fence poles and building the run. We are thinking about using a few vinyl flooring tiles on the floor of the coop so it scrubs clean really easily, like a kitchen floor. The whole front of the coop with be two big doors, so it will open completely when we want to clean it.

Me? So far, I’ve been in charge of photography, holding heavy lumber, beer buying, iced-tea and popsicle distribution, editing to keep up our bottom line, and dreaming of what colors to paint the coop.   😉

Some random thoughts …

Is it wrong to have a “pet” black widow spider? I have one in my backyard and I’ve not told the children about it, nor do I want it killed. It has a secret lair, which seems to me to be kind of miraculous and good, since it’s outside the normal traffic patterns of our lives. What I really want is a macro picture of its pretty red hourglass. And a long black dress with the same design to match.

My Asher has caught a cold and is staying home today, not so much because he is slowed by it, but because he is most likely contagious right now—I mean, insofar as I can guess such a thing. I’m wondering what to do about swim this afternoon. He is stubborn and demanding.

I’m trying to figure out a new project I have to do by September. It’s the reorganization and recreation of some curriculum for the instructors’ resources that go with a textbook. Puzzling … puzzling …

Last night my father in law and Mimi came over for dinner to celebrate two overdue birthdays and an overdue Father’s Day. Ian grilled the best chicken breasts I’ve ever had—moist, perfectly cooked, and flavorful—and Mimi brought a gorgeous carrot cake, in which the special ingredient was crushed pineapple. Divine.

I’m sending all my love to two friends today. They need it.

I think perhaps we’re still tired from the late night on the 4th, or at least, that may be Lucas’s case. He’s dragging. We’re all feeling a trifle crabby, even though everything is perfectly … normal. There is an uncomfortable degree of bickering between my children. Summer days are full and hot and long. My brain is split in two thanks to my two jobs; and I’m feeling like I’m not doing very well at either of them.

We all had a wonderful 4th of July holiday this year, with swimming, friends, barbecue and yummy food, and fireworks of course. I didn’t feel like pulling out the camera until nighttime. Maybe it was the good conversation, maybe the perfect temperature of the swimming pool …

After dark, the Fire Sprites appeared and colorful shenanigans ensued. Some of them were so fast and so flighty that it was nearly impossible to capture their images. Often, the best I could do was to photograph their fiery flight paths and trails of sparks.

And then some of the Sprites became so tired from all the flitting about, they fell asleep. Yay America!

Happy Independence Day!

Because photo posts please me, here are some scenes of summertime. Hope your summer is shaping up beautifully!

Dandelion tossed into the creek, where it spirals around and around

Mountain wildflowers

Lush meadows filled with every imaginable shade of green

Sand and rescued ladybugs

Cabin’s looking pretty spiffy these days

My lilies just keep blooming like mad; they put forth such effort!

Lots of swimming pool time with Miss Brittany

Pink and green hydrangea buds

California sycamore shade and hot summer skies

Thursday was a big day for both of my children. Lucas attended his first swim meet (we had missed the first two meets of the summer due to illness) and Asher finished his second session of swimming lessons by jumping off the diving board.

Here’s Lucas (in the black shirt) doing a great backstroke. He is is becoming a stronger swimmer thanks to all this practice! This, and having fun, are our two big goals for this experience. I am also hoping that this is the right amount of team and competition for my beginning athlete.

He’s new to diving, as are many of his teammates. They are given the choice to dive from a standing or seated position.

Here’s Asher floating calmly with Miss Brittany. He has come a long way in the four weeks he’s been taking lessons. For the first time, on Tuesday, he didn’t ask my “WHY do we have to do swimming lessons?!” He just came along quietly and did the work. I think he’s finally settling into the routine of it, so I signed him up for another session! (We have to be there anyway!)

The coup de grace! Asher jumped (was helped) off the diving board with his noodle. He was cheerful until he had to walk the plank; then his face was full of grim determination. Jay was there in the water to reassure him and make sure Asher didn’t slip out of his noodle. He popped up quickly, blinked, and made his way to the ladder. We cheered like crazy!

Asher got a certificate for completing the session and a lolly. BIG treat!

Lucas reported that the swim meet was pretty cool, but there was a lot of sitting around and waiting for his turn in the water. They did a warm-up swim, then each child raced in three events, with multiple heats. In between races, they rested. During a regular practice, the kids swim for 45 minutes with only very brief rests.

Lucas’s swim meet culminated in ice cream sundays. Daddy came to see the kids swim, and so did two grandmas, so my kids had quite the cheering section.

Four more weeks to go.

Last Friday night I had a feverish dream inspired by a blog I just discovered: Twig and Toadstool (http://twigandtoadstool.blogspot.com/), where they spent a lot of time preparing for and celebrating the Summer Solstice. I was feverish because I was ill with a virus, but the inspiration worked its way into my dreams all night long. All night I wove a sun; each time I woke and fell asleep again, I slipped right back into the weaving. I could feel the yarn in my fingers, the sticks, the wool. And so, when I awoke, I knew we had to MAKE this thing I had dreamed about.

I gathered some sticks from the local schoolyard and supplies from home, and did some shopping on Monday. I fastened the center together by wrapping it with floral wire. I also wired the edges in an effort to keep the sticks from shifting during the weaving. I think it worked well.

And then before and after our Solstice dinner outdoors, Lucas and I worked on our giant sunburst, which is a lot like a Ojo de Dios (God’s eye), but has eight rays and not four.

Lucas was a big help with weaving the center, especially. Isn’t it beautiful?

We took a break to eat my yummy corn salad, spinach salad, and Daddy’s amazing tri tip.

Sunshiny squashes, organic tomatoes, and iced tea graced our table. Must be summer!

Here comes the SUN! The art project took all evening, but we finished before the sun went down. Lucas held it up high in the sky so I could photograph it. Then we hung our sunburst on our house, where we can see it from the patio. We spend a lot of time there when it’s warm, and our boring beige paint looks better with some colorful art.

We used $1 ribbon spools in red and orange, a bit of mama’s thick cotton rug yarn, raffia, yellow fabric scraps (with rocket ship pattern that you can’t see) tied into a long strip, and acrylic yarns in yellows, gold, and orange. I wish I had had an excess of yellow or gold wool roving on hand to use in our sunburst, but I didn’t. We also had on hand several colors of nylon twine (including safety orange) but elected not to use them.

Honeydew melon with mint and lemon sorbet served as a delicious dessert. I don’t know how that watermelon ball sneaked in there. Chef Daddy deserves the credit, I presume. He’s brilliant, as always.

Asher didn’t care for the art project much, but enjoyed snipping bits and pieces of yarn with scissors, and running around with sticks (guns/weapons/swords/knives. Can’t stop him despite my pacifist leanings!) Besides preparing dinner, Ian made a finger-woven chain to add to our sunburst, but for a while, it was “Action Inja” Asher’s headband.

So, welcome Summer! May it be full of frolicking, fun, fiestas, and good fortune. May it be full of right action, deep breathing, generosity, and abundance. May it be patient, low-stress, and l a z y -good. Blessed Be.

This man is my best friend and the most wonderful father in the world. We love you, Daddy!

My kiddos are enrolled in swimming team and lessons this summer. For eight weeks we will go to the American River College pool every afternoon, M–Th, so Lucas can be on a swim team. This team is noncompetitive; although they have “inner squad meets,” they are really only racing against teammates and their own times. This is good for many reasons, not the least of which is that we don’t have to give up every summer Saturday to competitive meets. Ours will take place on some Thursdays, during the normal practice time.

Lucas missed practice three days last week due to being ill, but this week he has rallied and is back at it, apparently giving it his all. He’s got new swim fins and new goggles and new shorts and a new rash guard and a new backpack to carry it all in. He’s a well-equipped boy. I think he’s enjoying it a lot, although it will be nice when he makes some friends there.

Asher, on the other hand, hates his swimming lessons. He has now gone to six of them and is no longer spending the time in the water with his instructor screaming (as he did his first two days). Nevertheless, he is not a fan of this experience. I can tell he is learning and becoming more comfortable in the water, practicing the skills (face in, dip underwater, streamline arms, kicking, etc.). I’ve even caught him smiling a time or two. Every morning, though, he wakes up and asks if we’re going to swimming lessons. And when I say yes, he asks, “Now?!” Since they are at the end of the day, I get to answer “Later” about a hundred times every day. He worries about it all day. Here’s a picture of him going underwater, which he would never choose to do.

His instructor is pretty and fun and she jollies him along through the twenty-minute lessons. And the point of all this is not to torture my child, but to teach him that he can be OK in the water and (hopefully) get to the side if he falls in. I remember Lucas didn’t care much for swimming lessons at this age either. Now he is a fish!

So, sports. Not really my thing, but I’m making an effort to be a “Swim Mom” this summer to give Lucas what I hope is a good, gentle introduction to a team sport experience. I’m doing my best to have a good attitude about the whole thing. Thank goodness the bleachers where the parents wait are in the shade!

I

It starts with a bed-a-bye snuggle, sometime before the morning music …

somehow, there we all are.

Four abed, snuggled under, breathing.

Daddy’s the bravest. He rises before the rest.

Then mama feels guilty, smells coffee brewing, and slowly emerges from the nest.

Big boy bounces up, right up!

Mama and big boy go to his room to pull out clothes for today’s many adventures.

“But I’m not ready!” he complains.

(Mama doesn’t blame him. She’s not ready either.)

So they sit together on the green carpet. Perhaps a cuddle?

Arms enfold ten wiggly elbows, ten knocking knees.

“Either this lap used to be bigger, or you used to be smaller.”

(Giggle)

And there she is, just an arm’s length away,

Emily Mouse, doing her “evening” chores, having a before-bed drink

of water from the upside-down blue bottle.

Gently, Mama says, “Maybe Emily misses you,” thinking, it has been a good long while

since you held your mousie friend.

OK. He reaches for her, cups her gently in two astonishingly large hands

lined and crackled with dirt,

graced with broken nails

and calluses—

curious hands

that move a bit too fast.

White mouse whiskers, sniffing, twitching.

“Wow,” mama says. “We have had Emily for a whole year.”

“Yep.” White mouse moves over dingy T-shirt,

is corralled back into workaday hands.

To herself, Gently now … careful …

“How long do mice live?” Mama wonders cautiously.

“Two years, or a little more.”

Hmmm …

Emily’s fur is stroked, ears scratched by one nubby index finger.

Even. More. Gently …

“What do you think that means?”

…

Blue eyes flash, then seek refuge in the green carpet.

She will die someday. Sometime.

“Maybe soon.”

“Let’s give her lots of love until then, OK?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“And lots of petting. And kitchen scraps!”

“Yeah! I wonder if we gave her a whole sweet pepper, would she eat a hole and crawl inside it?”

“I don’t know. Let’s give her one and see.”

Eggs are ready. “Time for breakfast,” says the Daddy.

Littlest boy sleeps on …

…

II

Lucas and Grandma leave.

Existential dilemma faced and dressing for a rainy school day accomplished!

Phew!

Mama sips coffee

until …

“MAMA!”

Sleepy one emerges into a quiet house.

“My jammies are wet. I want a kiwi.”

Never before. “A kiwi? Really?”

“Yes.”

Well, then. Diaper change and then Mama goes looking …

Hallelujah! A kiwi. One.

“I have to peel the fuzzy brown skin off.”

“And then I eat it up.”

It vanishes before Mama’s eyes. Three gulps tops.

Then the cold eggs follow.

Mama sits by his side.

“I’m ready for some holding now,” he says with certain faith, and climbs over.

A small egg fills her lap.

“I’m a baby bird in my egg.”

Ah. “And I’m the nest?”

“Yes. And the Mama Bird.”

Pecking. Peck. Peck.

“I’m pecking!

“I’m hatching! Hatch!”

“Hello, Baby Bird! Welcome.”

“You’re my Mama Bird?!”

“Mmmm-hmm …”

“I hatch again!”

(Repeat)

“Are you ready to fly, baby bird?”

“Yes!”

“Let’s put on your red rain feathers.”

“Hurry, Mama Bird! Let’s fly!”

All the way to preschool.