Our Sunday began at 4:45 a.m., earlier than we ever rise. We dressed, brushed our teeth, threw our things into the car, and then carefully transferred sleeping boys into the vehicle. We drove almost two hours up highway 80, heading toward Squaw Valley, California, to the Nor Cal Tough Mudder. Seriously, check out the Tough Mudder website here. You won’t be sorry you did.

Ian had been training hard for this event since May, when he decided to join our friends NoNo and Mars in this obstacle course extraordinaire, this crazy endurance “race” to benefit the Wounded Warrior Project, which helps recently returned wounded veterans. Yes, that means our dearest Daddy and darling friends paid for the privilege to test their meddle against 24 seriously gnarly obstacles designed to challenge both body and mind.

Our arrival at Squaw valley was a joyful, exciting time. Hundreds of participants and spectators milled about reasonably, filling out death waivers and promising not to sue. All Mudders recieved registration packets and race numbers, which were written on their foreheads and bodies for easy identification. One wonders whether they expect participants heads to separate from bodies—well, better safe than sorry.

This is team Burndoggle. As you can see, spirits were high before the start. Butterflies? Oh yeah! This is some crazy stuff, folks. We in the support crew, our dear friend Dakini and me and our two children, were there to take photos and give high fives and wishes of good luck. Honestly, I’m overjoyed that I got to be present for this. What a day! What a day!

An amazing, loving, superb couple, our lovely NoNo and Mars! Lets just say they’ve been training for the Tough Mudder for something like 11 years. Yes, they take their fitness seriously.

Daddy was pumped up and jittery, and took some time before the 8:40 start to love up the boys and play with them. Oh yeah! Asher kept looking at Ian like he was more than a little insane. Frankly, I don’t blame him.

The Tough Mudder start line was at the base of a huge mountain. It seemed to say, “Get use to it, Mudders, because mountains are going to be your life for the next several hours!” Some Mudders wore funny costumes. I saw ‘fro wigs and matching tights and tutus and teams of friends all in pink scrubs. The National Anthem played before the 8:40 wave was allowed to start. There was crazy cheering and Asher cried because I was making too much noise. A lot of this day was well outside his comfort zone.

We Burndoggle team supporters knew we wouldn’t be able to witness MOST of the Tough Mudder obstacles. (Here is the course map.) But we were there to pass the day, have a great time, and hope for the opportunity to see our friends kicking ass, so we bought tickets for the cable car to take us up to 8,200 feet above sea level. (Asher didn’t much like this part either, but he bravely did as he was told and stuck very close to me. Especially when it started rocking after passing a pylon. Even my stomach did flip-flops while on this thing.)

Right after we exited this cable car “sky bus” thingy, we emerged at the top of a gorgeous mountain with a vista that stretched all the way to Lake Tahoe in the distance. But that’s not what caught our eye right away. First, we were captivated by the nearby obstacle called Everest—a quarter-pipe against which Mudders threw themselves in the hopes of  scaling it. A group of burly athletes lined the top to help other Mudders over the obstacle. Yes, Mudders, you see work in cooperation. This isn’t a race, per se. It’s more about teamwork and cooperation and facing your fears. These guys at the top were more than happy to haul others up and over the edge. But just jumping high enough to grab one of these body-building helpers’ hands was a huge feat. Most people I watched couldn’t do it. Some did. Mars did it, somehow, when I wasn’t looking. This may be my only regret of the day.

(None of these marvelous people are my people. That’s OK, though. They’re cool!)

What was truly thrilling was the fact that Mars, NoNo, and Ian were there when we arrived, waiting for their chance!  There was something of a traffic jam for the Mudders to get over this thing. I hadn’t really dared to hope that we might catch up with them at any point on the course. This was a dream come true. NoNo waited and watched others make their attempts, strategizing all the while, I think.

Ian weighed the risks carefully.

NoNo and Ian both climbed the 12-foot half-pipe to get over. Tough Mudder isn’t about doing every obstacle perfectly. It’s about making it through. This Everest was only obstacle 3, I think (after the Kiss of Mud and the Death March). We got kisses and then they were off again, running up an even higher mountain to who knows where? … something about crawling through snow, I later found out.

Dakini and the boys and I followed an alpine meadow trail a ways over to two nearby obstacles: the monkey bars and the rope climb. These were monkey bars on steroids, I tell you. About six lanes of Mudders monkeying uphill to a peak and then downhill to the end of the obstacle. Most fell into the muddy water below. Some made it all the way across. Many made it only part way. I really didn’t ever realize how many different monkey bar styles there were before this day!

This might be my favorite photos of the monkey bars because of the tights, of course, but it doesn’t convey the numbers of people crossing at once. Crazy. We waited here quite a while, hoping our friends would arrive after having passed through obstacles that we skipped by coming here. We’ll never really know if they went through this section of the course before we arrived here on foot with a 4-year-old, or after we finally gave up hoping to see them.

Right near here was the rope climb, which I later learned was something of a triumph for Ian. At this point the boys were holding up beautifully, especially since I kept feeding them.

The High Camp views were amazing. Truly spectacular. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel small and yet restores your faith in the world because of it.

Dakini took this great photo of us on top of the world among the mules ears. It was such a gorgeous day!

Squaw Valley hosted the Olympics in 1960. They have an Olympic Museum, which would be interesting to visit sometime, but we weren’t here for that.

Eventually, we rode the cable car back down the mountain and got the gear bags for our warriors. We ended up waiting under some shade at the cargo net obstacle for quite some time. This is a shot that Lucas took, which clearly shows Mudders coming down a (third?) mountain single file to get to the cargo net. We could see them way at the top as tiny specks, and we must have scanned the outlines of hundreds of descending people, looking for our three darlings, all the while shuffling our feet and hoping.

The waiting was hard. Anxious for me. But mostly boring for the boys. I jollied them along as best I could with PBJ sandwiches and pears. Lucas made a little birdie out of a pine cone and bits of wood chips. Asher made a big pile of rocks and then carefully formed the letter A with little sticks. “Mama, look what I made! Is that a A?”

After what felt like a long, nail-biting time, Ian emerged on the top of this obstacle. We had spotted our friends snaking down the mountain, and we were cheering like mad when he reached the top and looked right at us. Moments later, NoNo and Mars were there, too. They were close to the end of this ordeal and spirits were very high!

Daddy ran to us. We cheered and applauded. We got hugs and kisses. I snapped many photos of these gorgeous, dusty Mudders. (A gazillion more are on my Flickr stream.)

Don’t they look wonderful? But alas, even though they had scaled the Berlin Walls, carried logs, swam under walls, jumped off high planks, and braved the Chernobyl Jacuzzi already, they weren’t done yet. Two or three other obstacles still remained ….

Like this balance-beam obstacle called Twinkle Toes. Again, there were many lanes that Mudders could cross. Trouble was, the boards kept wobbling and many people fell into icy-cold water. I’m told the day was punctuated by frequent encounters with icy-cold water.

They approached the last obstacle, Electroshock Therapy—a field of electrically charged wires ready to zap Mudders with 10,000 volts as they pass—at a walk. This is one that messes with your mind, I think.

And then they were done. Their reward? A free beer and some food, a T-shirt, and this nifty orange headband.

Ian was elated, but not quite in his right mind at the finish. Dizzy? Addled? Relieved? Definitely happy!

Team Burndoggle’s time was something like 5 hours and 20 to 40 minutes. I don’t know exactly. I was too excited and busy congratulating them and taking photos to check the time. Whatever. They did it! And then much celebration ensued. The grins were worth a million bucks. There was pizza and more beer.

And our Tough Mudders posed for pics in the most delightful ways.

And my little, impressionable boys got to see Daddy do something amazing and clearly worthwhile, something he worked hella hard for—which is why I dragged them two hours into the Sierras at the crack of dawn and then up and down mountaintops after all.

Congratulations, NoNo and Mars! You rock!

Congratulations, Ian, my love. You are heroic and mighty! I’m so proud of you.

Last week I picked a bouquet of late summer flowers from my garden. I have cosmos grown from seed that are now taller than me. My cannas are nearing the end of their bloom, and some are making seeds. These last surprisingly long in a vase. I clipped a “Mother of Pearl” rose from one of this year’s new rosebushes and my favorite, “Rio Samba” is in its third bloom of the summer.

Some mint filled out the bouquet with fragrant green and little flower spikes.

Mostly my bouquet featured some terrific coral zinnias, also grown from seed. There’s only one plant, but it’s huge and thriving. I love them!

Imagine our surprise when three days later we found this fellow on a zinnia! The flowers in the vase were beginning to tire and droop and dry. And this caterpillar was still alive and on them, munching away.

He explored and ate while we grabbed our “butterfly garden” from the garage, picked fresh zinnias and place them in a small vase of water, and enclosed them and the caterpillar in the mesh enclosure. We wondered what the caterpillar might like to eat and brought in various leaves for him.

Then, we lost him. That is, try as we might, we couldn’t see him anywhere in the enclosure. I worried that he hadn’t had appropriate food and had died and shriveled up invisibly.

Then, one day, we found him again! He looked a little darker in color.

Then, he disappeared once more. Uh oh!

Today, Daddy found a little brown chrysalis tucked into a fold at the bottom of the mesh and fabric enclosure. We are now eagerly waiting to see what will happen next. Will a butterfly emerge? We hope so!

I had my “final” painting class on August 23. We worked on a still life of watermelon on a table draped with black velvet fabric. I tell you, painting black velvet was really tricky for me. Is it green-black? Purple-black? Mixing blacks from transparent ultramarine blue, alizarin crimson, and thalo green was quite remarkable. I painted a small 8- by 10-inch canvas that night.

A few days later, while the paints on my palette were still wet, I finished it at home. I elected to work on that black velvet some more—it was looking wimpy—and to dull the green in the rind of one section of melon a bit more. Here’s a photo of the finished, still-wet painting. Such a simple, one-object subject, and yet it presented many challenges. It felt perfectly marvelous to use all those reds!

Above, I said “‘final’ class.” I have to enroll in another session because I’m not done with this yet. I’ve taken a haitus of a couple of weeks now and I and really miss it. I’m hoping to return to class next Tuesday.

To all of my darling friends who made it financially possible and shoved me into this dream of mine (because I wouldn’t go there otherwise), thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’ll never forget this birthday present.

There’s been another change in Asher’s artwork since I last posted about it in May here, and before that, here. This one above is “Zombie Blood Splats, Explosions, and Chemicals.”

“My Creature Owl”

“Doggy”

Untitled

Asher’s Writing (left-handed, right to left)

Untitled

“Just Scribbles”

“A Game with Gold”

“Asher, Alex, and Noah Fighting a Black Monster”

“It’s About Swords”

“A Game” This one looks like a form drawing! Something he won’t be asked to do in school for another two years. This stuff is fascinating to me.

“BattleBetween a Fire Octopus and a Blue Guy”

To all my loves who are packing up and heading to that big, dusty dinner plate in Nevada for Burning Man,

Be well and safe. Revel. Unhook from your cares. Bounce around, shake your body. Cry a little. Use sunblock. Question everything. Rest and HYDRATE. Celebrate; it is YOUR TIME. Make love. Experience a whole solar day, dawn to dusk. Meet new friends. Be funny; be also kind. Ruminate. Shout really loud. Take naps. Eat some. Waltz in your stompy black boots. Pedal your bike as fast as you can. Leave no trace. Climb something big. Set something on fire. Take care of people. Stay up all night. Feel connected and FREE. Say yes.

Yes, I’m feeling sad I can’t be with you. Yes, this is a corny, romantic sendoff. Yes.

A couple of weeks ago, Lucas and some buddies got a golden opportunity to study robotics with a young champion robot engineer. They basically built a LEGO Robotics Summer Camp for a handful of lucky fourth-grade Waldorf kids. Above is the robot that Lucas and his partner, R, built.

The boys got to use LEGO Mindstorms parts, complete with a programmable brain, light sensors, eyes, etc.  Although Lucas is a champ at building with LEGO, this was different! This was pretty much his first experience working with a computer, apart from a 10-minute learning game once in a while.

The boys worked in teams, building three different robots of their own design. On the last day of camp, we gathered for a final challenge.

The robots had to follow a prescribed, programmed path, turn, advance to pick up a baton, turn again, and carry the baton and deposit it into a holding bin. Along the way, the robots were supposed to push a ball into the holding bin, too. This is a photo of Lucas and R’s robot on a trial.

This is a challenging task! Being off even a few degrees at one point in the path makes the robot wildly off course later on. During the challenge, the kids made lots of minute tweaks to the robots’ programs.

Several robots succeeded in completing the challenge at least once. Here’s their (blurry) moment of victory.

The taped table gave the robots’ sensors clues about where they were.

I think this six-afternoon camp was challenging in many ways, but also super cool. You can tell they had a great time, even though some afternoons were uncomfortably hot.

I think this is S’s robot, ready for a run. So great!

At they end they all got certificates of completion. Can you think of better way to motivate boys to learn than combining good friends, LEGO, computers, problem solving, and mentorship?

Don’t they look grand with their robots and coach Karl in the back? Little geniuses every one of them!

And goofy boys, too.

Last month we got to go to Calaveras Big Trees State Park for a weekend camping trip. It was as magnificent as I remembered it from when we camped there a few years back (before we were four).

The boys had a wonderful time. Our campside was bordered on three sides by very large fallen logs, which created a kind of parkour paradise for all of us. We balanced and climbed on those logs a lot, moving from one to another without touching the ground. There was a sweet little creek behind our campsite and some kind of old building whose purpose we couldn’t fathom.

Lucas got to try chopping kindling with the ax, with Ian close by—but not too close! It is both exciting and terrifying to see Lucas learning to perform more dangerous tasks, such as chopping wood and lighting fires. It’s good for him, though. He is learning how to be careful, capable, and confident and that is priceless. We all negotiate risk every day of our lives.

We had campfire fun, including s’mores, of course.

We were joined by our dear friends Mars and NoNo for this trip and it was particularly awesome to have some quantity time with them. Life for the grown-ups has been so busy these last six months or so. In the woods, there are no work emails to check. Amen.

There are, however, plenty of sticks that can instantly become weapons for little boys—especially if you find a random, discarded wire cable that can be dismantled by two quick 9-year-old hands. “Here, Mars, hold this so I can wrap this wire around to make a proper hilt.” The boys were on their best behavior for our friends, and worked hard to limit their sword fighting to slo-mo bashing and movielike derring-do.

We hiked through the North Grove of Big Trees state park together. It’s a short, gentle hike, but the kids got tuckered out before we were done nonetheless.

This is what they call Discovery Stump. It’s the giant sequoia that was first chopped down to prove to the world that giant sequoias existed—and to make a buck. They used to hold dances on this tree stump; they built a school room on it; they used it as a stage for theatrical performances. Now it’s where park volunteers teach tourists about giant sequoias, California history, logging, how stupid people can be, and forest conservation.

A living Sequoia Sempervirens. The trail leads past a dozen or so of these magnificent trees.

Rest stop.

Giant redwood cones.

Wild yellow irises.

Sweet Uncle Mars and tired Asher in need of lunch.

Mmm, lunch.

There were plenty of card-playing giggles with NoNo.

Lucas taught Asher how to play War.

Daddy cooked our baked potatoes in a stone oven/grill thing and they were lovely. We had steak and wine and other goodies. Sometimes when camping, it seems like we go from one meal to the next, with little in between. Our kids are always starving, it seems, no matter how much we feed them.

After our friends left, we also had a lovely hike ruined by moodiness and a picnic that made it better, a splash in a creek with butterflies all around, and then we met this awesome bug!

I’ve already written about how my gorgeous, generous friends gave me oil painting classes for my birthday here and here. I figured I’d better report on how things are going.

I LOVE IT.

This was my first setup, in a too-dark shot taken by my cell phone, which doesn’t capture even half the necessary composition, beauty, perspective, color, or light that made up these sunflowers.

This is my finished painting (and a detail is at the very top). See how I avoided those wicked stripes? Too hard!

In class, my makeshift palette box (glass from my fridge shelf that broke in a pizza box) stands near my borrowed easel. I try really hard not to knock stuff onto the floor. I have a new brush cleaning jar with a fancy coil thingy that’s supposed to keep my brushes in good shape. I used some old cadmium yellow light paint that my Nana had; I had to squeeze hard to get it out of the tube, then it squirted everywhere. So far, there’s little grace involved. Still, painting is challenging and thought-provoking in the most delicious way.

Here is my second painting in progress; the photo was taken at the end of the third class. I had too much solvent on my canvas by the middle of this class, so my paint wouldn’t stick properly, especially on the vase. I was still working out my background color. During the second session working on this painting (fourth class), that wasn’t the case and I was able to finish it.

This is what the studio looks like. There’s my second (silk flower) setup in the lower middle.

My teacher and my classmates are very supportive and said kind things. I’m very happy with this painting, all things considered! Can’t wait to do more. I think my brain is growing and my eyes are seeing more.

Breakfast dishes, with two small helpers.

Putting away laundry, also with help. Halleluia!

Chicken care and feeding.

Kitchen science, on the cheap.

Safetytown USA, where we learned about fire safety, bike safety (“Wear your helmets, kids,” says Uncle Mario), and how to be safe near electrical wires and power stations, stray animals, strangers, and assorted other dangerous things. Safetytown is a mini town, with scaled-down buildings, working traffic lights, and a little pretend railroad crossing. We practiced crossing the street a lot.

Ours was a self-guided tour, which gave us some map-reading and reading practice. Lucas did a great job!

It also gave us lots of opportunities to sit and watch DVD presentations play. :-/  Still, the kids were mostly engaged.

We learned about not playing with matches or lighters, about “Don’t Hide! Get Outside!”, about crawling on the ground if there’s a fire, and having a family fire escape plan and meeting place. Although Lucas already knew a lot of this stuff, I think it was Asher’s first introduction to “Stop! Drop! Roll!”

There was a boring trip to the grocery store, made somewhat less boring by buying crummy Chinese potstickers, chow mein, and egg rolls for lunch.

We watered the garden where it was looking thirsty.

We watered the boys, who raced through the hose spray.

I fetched 17 glasses of ice water for thirsty humans. That water cooler idea is looking really good in the heat of summer.

We made mango, orange, yogurt pops.

The 4 p.m. tantrum came right on schedule.

Two storybooks.

Some math and language arts practice.

Piano practice.

Lucas tried on his new gi to show me. He looks so handsome and grown up.

Quite a day, no?

Lucas was playing the other day and made Star Wars figures out of modeling clay. That’s R2-D2, Luke, and Yoda (left to right), with “Yay!” underneath them. The figure on the right is Darth Vader, and his clay text said “Bad Guy!” I moved the figures together for the photo. Lucas definitely wouldn’t want anyone to think he was rooting for Vader.

Which brings me to realize I never wrote about one of the things we did to celebrate Lucas’s 9th birthday. At our request, our dear friends hosted a surprise party for him on May 6th—a Star Wars: A New Hope viewing party. Prior to that, he had not been allowed to see any Star Wars film. For a young boy with an instinctual and cultural understanding that Star Wars is the quintessential hero movie, friends his age who have already seen it, and a blooming fascination with all things sci-fi, nine years is a long time to wait! (And waiting was totally the right thing to do, too. I have no regrets. We got babysitting for Asher that night.)

When we arrived at our friends’ house for the party and finally told Lucas what this was all about, this was his reaction. Yep, over the moon!

We invited grown-up friends to come and watch the film with us, and I was amazed at the turnout. Everyone wanted to be a part of Lucas’s first Star Wars experience. (Thank you, darlings.)

The event was every bit as wonderful as we had hoped. Lucas felt honored and special. He wasn’t frightened by the film. Instead, he understood it and all its powerful themes: good versus bad, loyalty, honor, friendship, and coming of age.

It was a Big Deal and as you can see from the photos, he was THRILLED! Many, many thanks to our generous hosts.