I can’t say much about these Christmassy doings yet. Some of what we are making are for our kiddos, but some are for friends and family and I don’t want to spoil the surprise. Suffice it to say, we are spending some cold, cold hours outside in the garage …

We are struggling to find secret moments without the boys watching …

And I am using power tools!

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.

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.

Although I used to go all out when wrapping gifts, in recent years I’ve become … let’s say …  somewhat busier and lacking time for such frippery. In fact, lately, my answer to labeling packages at Christmas has been simply to pull out my black or red Sharpie and scribble directly onto the wrapping paper. Frankly, it kills me to spend money on this stuff.

I’m still lacking time, but this week I had a sick boy home for two days with a fever, and whenever that happens he begs me to come up with things for him to do to pass the time at home while I’m working.

So, we made some simple gift tags from recycled (repurposed?) paper. Not fancy. Not fine. But fun, useful, and it couldn’t be easier.

Yep. It’s a paper grocery sack, cut roughly into squares and stamped with my two Christmas stamps. My mother-in-law gave me the snowman when she retired from teaching third grade. The tree stamp is one we bought to make gifts about five years ago. I love it when we can do a project without buying anything new.

I’m not sure why, but I love the paper that grocery sacks are made from. Maybe it was all those years I covered my schoolbooks with them. Anyway, if you follow the folds of your grocery sack, you’ll basically cut squares. It wasn’t at all important to me that they be perfectly square or all the same size, or anything like that.

Lucas did a great job stamping these. They need only a “To:” and a “From:” added, don’t you think? (There’s a job for my Sharpie!) If you wanted to, you could get fancier and paint on some glitter or something.

Voilà! We’re one tiny step closer to being ready for Christmas.

We have our Christmas tree now! We fetched it last Saturday from the bargain store for $10. Although driving up to an Apple Hill tree farm and cutting our own tree is one of my favorite family traditions, we felt this year that being frugal with both our time and money was a fair trade-off.  It’s easier to adapt if your traditions don’t have you in a stranglehold, I think. And being adaptable is important.

Ian’s very handy with a Sawzall. Doesn’t he look handy? Our bargain Douglas Fir tree is fresh and smells wonderful!

We got it all decorated in one afternoon. To me our ornaments are like old friends; I’m glad to see them every year. Lucas was touched by all the “Baby’s First Christmas” ornaments that are his. (I regret that we don’t have many of those for Asher.)

I’m surprised at how many Waldorf wool angels we now have to hang on our tree!

Then we played with funny glasses from Captain Jack’s Smiley Bar to see smiley faces on our tree! Thanks T!

And thank goodness for SomaFM’s “Christmas Lounge” station—it’s Christmas music recordings that you mostly haven’t heard before. Happy listening!

We had a modest celebration this morning of Santa Lucia, the Italian saint adopted and beloved by Swedes. Lucia was a young woman who lived in 304 A.D. and gave her dowry to the poor. She was blinded, tortured, and decapitated for it. Saint stories are so grim! For me, well, I’ll skip that part.

It’s said that Lucia appeared to a starving village in Sweden with food and drink for all in need. She has captured the heart of Sweden ever since. (I wish wish wish I had a photo of collage-age Ian as a Star Boy singing to his professors in Upsala, Sweden, in 1993!)

Edit 12/14/2010: I got my wish!!! Ian’s mom came over today and brought some mementos from Sweden, including this photo from 1993. Ian’s in the back row, third from the right.

Last year was a big year for Lucas‘s second-grade class to celebrate Santa Lucia Day, since they were studying saints. They dressed up and walked through the whole school, singing to all the classes and delivering hundreds of Lucia Buns, which I helped to bake. There is a wonderful blog post here, which gives lyrics to the Santa Lucia song.

This year I tried a different recipe (from a Swedish cookbook we bought at Ikea) and made them in the “Christmas cross” shape. Because Ian and I went to a Christmas party last night, I was baking buns at 11:20 p.m. folks. They were yummy and lovely on our breakfast table this morning.

Today Lucas is home sick after being feverish through the night. Maybe we’ll make Star Boy hats for fun.

By the way, we’ve been reading a great book we found at the library called Lucia and the Light, by Phyllis Root and illustrated by Maria Grandpré. It is not the story of Saint Lucia, but is a story of a courageous young girl who must go and rescue the sun from mountain trolls, who have captured it. (Asher isn’t too sure about those trolls.)

Hope you’re finding plenty of ways to bring the light into your homes and hearts this season.

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.