My dear friend Dakini came over last Sunday night and taught me how to make glycerine soaps. It was tons of fun and very easy, and the results are so pretty!

We used herbs from my garden, such as lavender leaves and rosemary, dried lavender flowers we both had been saving, and several essential oils. We also used kitchen goodies like honey and oatmeal.

We made clear lavender; pinkish lavender rosemary; honey oatmeal orange; honey beeswax lavender oatmeal; and finally, rose with pink dye. The golden soaps are colored only with natural honey.

I think they look spectacular. They are going to make great gifts.

The only limiting factor was the number of molds we had. (Silicone molds are the best because the soaps pop out so easily!) We made five batches of soap in one evening, using only one sausepan and a couple of tools like a measuring cup for pouring the melted soap and a spatula. We let the poured soap cool and set outside under the porch. We still have materials left over. Cleanup was … soapy; hot water was all we needed to melt away the congealed soap on our tools.

I would say this project is perfectly suited for children with adult supervision. Even little ones can help gather herbs, drip in fragrance or dye, and stir the pot. The soap melts on very low heat.

Then, when we were done with our project, we got to drink wine and eat a delicious chicken fricasée that Ian made. A perfect evening. Thank you, Dakini and Ian!

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.

This story is really not about me, but I’m going to tell my part in it because it gave me great joy.

Lucas’s class is performing the Russian story of the Firebird in Eurhythmy this week. The performance is on Thursday and they’ve worked quite hard on it. I cannot wait to see this performance and I know already it’s going to make me cry. Lucas is excited about it, too.

A whole crew of volunteers was recruited to sew fancy dresses for the girls to wear. I was asked to do this part: paint the Firebird’s fabric wings.

With paints.

I love paints.

I love to paint.

Here’s my inspiration and reference material: The Firebird by Demi.

So this is how I spent part of my Sunday afternoon, outside in my unseasonably warm backyard, with the fabric clipped to my fence, while the wind rushed about blowing leaves into my way.

This is how I left it last night, with the back almost finished (not all the tail feathers were done). Today I painted the front because when the Firebird spreads her wings, you’ll see the underside. I’ve also spent some time adding details, like more gold shimmer.

I don’t have a daylight photo of the wings finished at this point. I’ll try to snap one in the morning before I send this off to school. I fervently hope that this garment will work. The paint has made the fabric pretty stiff, so I’m hoping the Eurhythmy teacher doesn’t expect lots of flowing, draping softness!

Doing this was such fun! I wish I could paint more often!

I wrote a bit about this third-grade building project recently. I got to go to the school yesterday to take photos while the children left their hand prints in the freshly poured cement. What these three photos don’t show are the twenty-seven OTHER shining faces of Lucas’s beautiful classmates. They glow with 8- and 9-year-old vitality.

Here is the Oak Stage construction site. That big, dark tree trunk at the back is a gorgeous old oak tree. The little trunk in the middle of the stage is also an oak. At the front is the river rock moved by the third graders to make a drainage area. No symmetrical shapes, per R.S. architecture.

Here’s Lucas waiting for his turn to make his mark.

Here’s M and Lucas. This dad, Mr. C,  is the lead on this project and he is graciously donating his time and expertise to make it happen. Other class parents and grandparents are volunteering every day to work on the stage, too. Ian’s there right now, enjoying his day off!

I stand here, quietly gaping. Not too close, but neither am I uninvolved in what my son is doing in school these days. I watch with eagerness, hoping for glimpses into his life away from home, where he is encountering challenges both familiar to me and also completely alien. I listen with keen interest to every morsel he brings home and chooses to share. I am talking about my son’s experience of third grade at his Waldorf school.

In past years I have describe his school and its curriculum as “magical” or “enchanting.” It still is that, but this year it has taken on a new quality—a feet-on-earth quality that is serving to ground him and build him up in confidence and competence.

I will try to illustrate what I mean.

In third grade, the children study gardening. They will do so throughout their Waldorf lower school grades, but gardening is emphasized this year in particular. They are also studying ancient Hebrew culture and also cooking. To tie all of these together, they have harvested fruits and vegetables on the school farm, made soup from the harvest, built a sukkah (hut), and celebrated the Hebrew festival of Sukkot by eating in the sukkah. They are also learning songs in Hebrew. It used to be rare for Lucas to sing for us at home songs he learned at school. Now he swells with pride to sing in Hebrew a song about beating swords into ploughshares so that nations will go to war no more and that people can grow their vines and fig trees instead, which is taken from this Bible passage:

“They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks.
Nation shall not take up sword against nation, they shall never again know war.
But they shall sit every one under their vines and fig trees,
and none shall make them afraid.” (Micah 4.3-4)

Recently, they made bread in cooking class. But like the Little Red Hen, they really MADE THE BREAD. They cut down the stalks of wheat that they themselves sowed last year in second grade. Then they threshed the grain. Then they winnowed to separate the grain from the chaff. Then they ground the wheat to make flour. And only then, did they make and eat their bread.

Do you see why this boggles me?

Right now they are in the midst of a building block. This is a key element to the third-grade curriculum. Their class is going to rebuild and expand the school’s Oak Stage, an outdoor stage set in the woods on the school grounds near the American River that was getting a little too rickety. The children demolished the stage last week and together moved 8 tons of river rock! (Many hands make light work.) They poor cement tomorrow, barring rain. They will place their handprints into the foundation of the stage they are building for the school. Next week they will be measuring, sawing, hammering, building both the stage and their own skills.

In the classroom and in the kitchen (which are the same this year), they are learning about measurement, too. Tying in with their language arts study of the Old Testament and the Hebrews, they have learned how big a cubit is (debatable, but roughly the length of the forearm from elbow to tip of middle finger—about 18 inches), and that Noah’s Ark was 300 cubits long. Today they went out to the school’s field, rulers in hand, and measured out the size of the Ark, to see for themselves how big it might have been. “That’s 450 feet long, mom!” They are also learning about spans, fathoms, yards, and feet, experiencing these concepts in their own limbs.

“Firmly on the earth I stand.”

Lucas has just passed his half birthday, bringing him to the ripe old age of 8 and a half. And although I took these photos about a month ago, to me they capture something of his present age. This is my sensitive, clever boy flying through the air, determined, sure-footed, and courageous. He knows his capabilities. He can plan his footfalls, and he can adapt and switch course if he needs to.

He is self-assured and confident. He often marches into unknown territory with aplomb. His place in the universe is known and secure.

But there is still plenty of room for striving, for challenging himself, for testing and experimenting. It’s imperative. He must negotiate his way through space, through relationships, through his own needs and self-knowledge. He knows that he might get hurt, but he also knows he will heal if he does.

Sometimes he falls short or is disappointed. Sometimes he takes blows to his ego. Sometimes, despite all our efforts, he feels unloved and unwanted. He sits in judgment on himself and sometimes he doesn’t like what he sees. This too, is part of his age. He’s right where he’s supposed to be, figuring out who he is, and where and in what ways he is separate from others.

At this moment, he’s preparing to leave home. He has been planning an adventure for a few days now—one that he’s going on all by himself. He needs some freedom, he tells us. (At first his plan was to spend a whole day and night away, on his own, but that’s been modulated down to a more reasonable bike ride to his friends’ house a few blocks away. He knows to call me when he arrives there.)

Carpe diem! He is ready. He has a backpack full of provisions—lunch, a magnifying glass, and notebooks for any scientific discoveries he might make along the way. He also has his wand, just in case any bad guys or Dementors hassle him. He has his instructions and air in his tires. He knows his phone number.

Ah. That’s the bell on his bike. I hear it ringing as he rides out of the driveway, shouting good-bye. He made sure to give me a big hug and kiss, and gave some to his dad and brother, too. I saw the sparkle in his eyes. He is full of both our concern and our trust. He is feeling big, and capable, and sure.

Fare thee well, my sweet son.

My son wants to be Harry Potter for Halloween. He’s been adamant about it for several months, and frankly, Harry’s cool, so we’re down with this idea. In early October, much to our surprise, Lucas approached his grandmother and asked, “Grandma, will you please knit me a gray sweater for my Harry Potter costume?”

Nine days and three yarn shops later (looking for the right gray yarn), Grandma Sydney showed up with this gem. How’s that for grandmotherly love and kickass knitting skillz? If only Harry himself were so lucky as to have such a grandma.

Ian found this super Gryffindor House tie at a thrift shop and it goes perfectly. We still have more work to do on this costume, but this is a magnificent start!

I made a few other goodies for the Waldorf school’s Harvest Faire this Saturday. The mice and gnomes are intended for the Children’s Store, which is a shop full of small treasures and handmade lovlies intended to fit a child’s budget. Only children younger than about 10 are allowed to shop there and I believe the highest price they would pay is $2. I’m told my needle-felted mice have been a big hit in years past.

I left the knitted cat in the basket for the Country Store, which is open to shopping adults and sells crafts and handmade items of all types. I hear my friends’ honey will be sold there this year and I’m hoping to snag some.

This is my best work to date. I made this needle-felted Harvest Mother as a donation for our school’s Country Store fundraiser, part of Sacramento Waldorf School’s Harvest Faire, which is being held this Saturday, October 23. Now that’s she’s done, I’m kind of sorry to have to give her up. She took about four hours to make, spread over several evenings. She is about 9 inches tall and the widest part of her skirt is about 7 inches across.

I tried to gently stripe the colors to suggest agricultural rows. I tried to suggest that from her body flows all good things: crops of pumpkins, cabbages, and greens. I tried to use colors that bring to mind dried-up summer grains and tired fields ready for resting. I tried to suggest that she is the goddess of foods gathered in and the growing foods that will nourish us in time, in a never-ending cycle. I hope you can see the wind in her hair.

I admit, that’s a lot to suggest with a bunch of fluff!

It’s amazing what a little needle can do! She is holding a cornucopia in her arms, can you tell?

These are two details of her earthy skirt, with various crops growing on it. I love the pumpkin vines the most. I would have loved to make grapes and wheat, but I couldn’t seem to make the wool cooperate in that way for superfine details.

I’m ridiculously proud of this doll! I don’t really want to give her up, but she is going for a good cause. I just hope they sell her for a decent amount and that the person who buys her loves her as much as I do.