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.

I’d just like to pop in and say Happy New Year! It’s been a lovely winter break around here these last several days, even though I’ve been working quite a bit this week—more than in most years, actually. I’m glad to have the work, and yet still yearn for the downtime, especially while everyone is at home.

There has been lovely block play,

some reading of How to Train Your Dragon, and quite a bit of cozy “Avatar: The Last Airbender” viewing.

Ian tackled some home renovation projects, including fixing a gate and finishing the Hearth Project (which was started and abandoned half finished more than eight years ago). Here is the beautiful result:

Lucas has practiced on his new skateboard from uncle Jon.

And Asher has worn his new chaps and vest (a precious family heirloom of our friends, loaned to us while they fit) in a most creative way.

So, that’s pretty normal right, for the last days of a year: continuing on, finishing, fixing, solving, resting, mulling, embracing new challenges, learning new skills, reinventing old stuff to be new again?

Relax. Review. Renovate. Remember. Reinvent.

Well, it’s normal around here.

Wishing you all the best in the New Year!

Asher is really into dragons. He has been playing dragon for quite some time, but we were recently inspired by this book, Tell Me a Dragon, by Jackie Morris. It is simply beautiful and I fully recommend it. It was published in 2009 by Frances Lincoln Children’s Books.

We have been wanting to make some wooden toy figures for a long time, so making him a dragon for Christmas seemed like just the right thing. We used a scroll saw with a blade that turned out to be too lightweight for the job, and yet, it got the job done.

I drew the dragon on paper and cut it out, then I traced it onto a piece of pine. I wish I had paid more attention to the back side of the board, as the back was flawed and we didn’t notice until our dragon was cut out. (Thank you, Ian, for doing the scary work with the saw.) At this point, we were so pleased with our cutout that there was no turning back.

I used regular old acrylic craft paints, slightly watered down, to make a kind of color wash. The wood absorbed the wetness quickly, but there were a few seconds with each application when the colors would blend nicely like watercolors. I painted this dragon in several sessions because I needed to let it dry in between.

The face was last, and I’ll admit I was really scared I’d mess up on the face! I was hoping to achieve a face that looked both friendly and fierce—kind of a tall order! (I am really pleased with how the tail works like a handle. It feels really sturdy.)

Of course, what do you do with just a dragon? Along the way, we created a knight and gave him a horse to ride. The horse had to be to scale to the knight, who was done first, but couldn’t be as big as the dragon. Tricky!

Ian was really clever with the knight’s paint job, I think. They look marvelous together. The figures were sanded lightly after painting to smooth them, then finished with a beeswax and lavender furniture polish. They smell and feel delightful.

Now, let’s hope Asher plays with them!

Oh the busyness around here! Today, Christmas Eve, is another full day. We have been so crafty, making presents and having fun, we haven’t yet cleaned or shopped or cooked. I’m excited about quite a few of our creations, and hope their recipients enjoy them!

Until later, my friends. Merry Christmas and blessings from Sara, Ian, Lucas, and Asher!

“Song of the Christmas Tree Fairy”

The little Christmas Tree was born
And dwelt in open air;
It did not guess how bright a dress
Some day its boughs would wear;
Brown cones were all, it thought, a tall
And grown-up Fir would bear.

O little Fir! Your forest home
Is far and far away;
And here indoors these boughs of yours
With coloured balls are gay,
With candle-light, and tinsel bright,
For this is Christmas Day!

A dolly-fairy stands on top,
Till children sleep; then she
(A live one now!) from bough to bough
Goes gliding silently.
O magic sight, this joyous night!
O laden, sparkling tree!
—Cicely Mary Barker

Oh, I am a little bit excited! Happy Solstice! I don’t know whether to read poetry or rush outside to try to capture the Lunar eclipse with my camera. We didn’t do too much to celebrate ~ apart from spending the day all together, working on our various Christmas projects, making art, relaxing, running through the leaves, and listening to some wonderful music tonight. (Thank you Jethro Tull!) The kids and I read The Winter Solstice, a picture book by Ellen Jackson.

Where exactly is the nearest bonfire?

“Ring Out, Solstice Bells” by Jethro Tull

Now is the solstice of the year,
winter is the glad song that you hear.
Seven maids move in seven time.
Have the lads up ready in a line.

Ring out these bells.
Ring out, ring solstice bells.
Ring solstice bells.

Join together beneath the mistletoe.
by the holy oak whereon it grows.
Seven druids dance in seven time.
Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming.

Ring out these bells.
Ring out, ring solstice bells.
Ring solstice bells.

Praise be to the distant sister sun,
joyful as the silver planets run.
Seven maids move in seven time.
Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming.
Ring out those bells.
Ring out, ring solstice bells.
Ring solstice bells.
Ring on, ring out.
Ring on, ring out.

And here’s one more, that suits my frame of mind on this darkest night.

“Lord of the Dance” (Traditional)

I danced in the morning when the world was begun
I danced in the moon and the stars and the sun;
I was called from the darkness by the song of the earth,
I joined in the singing and she gave me birth.

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!

I sleep in the kernel and I dance in the rain,
I dance in the wind, and through the waving grain,
And when you cut me down, I care nothing for the pain —
In Spring I’ll be Lord of the Dance again!

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!

I see the maidens laughing as they dance in the sun,
I count the fruits of the of the harvest, one by one;
I know the storm is coming, but the grain is all stored,
So I sing of the dance of the Lady and the Lord.

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!

We dance ever slower as the leaves fall and spin
And the sound of the Horn is the wailing of the wind;
The Earth is wrapped in stillness and we move in a trance,
but we hold on fast to our faith in the dance.

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!

The sun is in the south and the days lengthen fast,
And soon we’ll sing for the winter that is past,
Now we light the candles and rejoice as they burn,
and Dance the dance of the sun’s return.

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!

They cut me down, but I leap up high!
I am life that will never, never die.
I’ll live in you and you’ll live in me—
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he!

Dance, then, wherever you may be!
I am the Lord of the Dance, said he,
And I’ll lead you on, wherever you may be, I will lead you all in the Dance, said he!

The moon in her phases and the tides of the sea,
the movement of Earth, and the seasons that will be
Are rhythm for the dancing and a promise through the years—
The Dance goes on through joy and tears.

May your homes be full of love and light. May you find a moment to nurture your own inner spark, that source of all of your own inspiration, generosity, compassion, and love. Let it shine in the darkness!

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.

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.

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.

On Thursday before the Thanksgiving holiday, we were privileged to see the third-grade Eurhythmy performance of The Firebird, adapted by the Eurhythmy teacher Ms. M from the Russian fairy tale. She made changes to ensure that the whole class could be involved to the fullest and her vision and choreography were beautiful. There was live piano accompaniment and the children clearly worked very hard to put on this show.

The children were incomparably beautiful to my eyes, which I admit were full of tears the whole time.

Our Firebird.

The Prince and his companions danced and cavorted in the forest.

Lucas was a companion to the Prince

The girls were ladies in waiting to the Princess, and also mermaids in the sea. To me, they look like a Renaissance painting here.

An Evil Magician turned many to stone. I’m told that he was delighted to play this part! And he played it fiercely.

The Prince and Princess eventually were married, of course.

There was a beautiful Queen of the Mermaids, who helped the Prince in his adventures.

The Firebird in flight, wearing the wings I painted for her.