Some days are so busy, I only have time for a quotation. Here’s one I found inspiring today:

Take nothing for granted: the sheer act
of walking each day; fresh air upon your cheek;
each effort expended on self or another—
walking the dog, shopping for food, toiling
at home
in an office
or on the road.
Every moment is rare, short and full of glory.
Every word is magic, a story achieved through will.
Marvel at nature’s moods as mirror of your own.
Recall a sunrise or sunset, a flock of geese in the sky.
Care about parents or children as fragile gifts
like petal on a rose, like song from one bird.
Praise the simple or complex—the invention of flight
above clouds; the wheel; the bathtub; a rocking-chair.
We rise and fall in the moon or a wave,
in a smile or many tears.
And being brave is to be alive
as we give and share love always,
only and ever to survive.

—Rochelle Lynn Holt

With the change of seasons, it’s time to move the warm-weather clothing aside to make way in drawers and closets for cold-weather clothing. I spent a couple of hours yesterday doing just that with Asher’s things.

This might be a rather tedious task to perform several times a year, except it makes me feel connected to moms and families all over the world whenever I do it. It doesn’t even matter what hemisphere you’re in. Chances are, if you have kids, you also are busy buying, making, sorting, evaluating, mending, packing, and unpacking belongings for your children because they’re always growing.

Will this fit next summer? Is this shirt still nice enough to save for the baby? Who has a child the right age to get more use out of these boots? Do these pants go into the donation box? These questions are being asked everywhere.

I pulled lots of 18 to 24 month clothes out of Asher’s dresser and filled a big shopping bag and a box full of clothing we no longer need. Some pieces are handmade by Grandma Sydney, including little matching Hawaiian shirts and shorts sets. I’m very happy I know a little boy who will grow into these things soon enough. It feels good to pass them on to dear friends.

We are rather lucky in that we have a mountain of things in our garage waiting patiently for Asher to grow into them. I pulled out the 3T box yesterday and pawed through it. The pants are all too big still, but many of the shirts will be useful this winter and beyond. It was a little like shopping for new things—kind of exciting in that way. But it was more like rediscovering old friends. I sometimes remember who gave the item to Lucas, or who made it for him, or where we were when we bought it. Even some of the stains are familiar. As I pulled out items from the box that was nearly as tall as Lucas is, memories of younger Lucas flooded my mind. It was bittersweet.

Ian has occasionally chafed at the amount of space all this STUFF takes up in his garage. But I know he’s happy to be saving the money because we don’t have to outfit our toddler from scratch. I’m so grateful to have the hand-me-downs, to use them again for Asher. I really like that these clothes get an extended life. What about the things that don’t yet fit? They go back into the garage to wait a bit longer.

My darling husband had a birthday last Friday; he turned “26” (which stands to reason since I turned “25” again this year and he’ll always be older than me).

Asher and Lucas and I baked him a lovely apple cake. The kids chopped the apples. It went kind of like this: “One for Daddy’s cake. One for me. One for Daddy’s cake. One fore me.”

Here’s the cake before we frosted it with butter cream frosting and topped it with colorful sprinkles. Damn, it was good! Moist and spicy with nutmeg. I used the Apple Hill recipe and it turned out perfect.

I roasted a chicken (and basted it with butter, garlic, and curry powder), which was beautiful and golden but I didn’t get a photo. I prepared a wonderful spinach salad and cauliflower purée, too. (It’s delish and a lot like mashed potatoes but not nearly so carby.) Ian’s sister and her boyfriend (we love them both dearly) joined us for dinner to help us celebrate. They brought the “Beatles Rock Band” game with all the equipment. We all played the game together and had a wonderful time!

Lucas was great at singing “Yellow Submarine.” I haven’t sung into a mic in … well, 20 years. So that was both weird and really fun.

Asher liked the colors on the game, but got discouraged or embarrassed at one point and gave up.

On Saturday, a beautiful, chilly fall day, we got to celebrate with just grown ups. Ian and NoNo and I ate lunch in Placerville and then drove to a little town in the Sierra foothills called Fairplay. It’s south of Apple Hill and has lots of wineries to visit. We went to three of them and tasted Sirahs and Syrahs, and Cabernets and Sauvignon Blancs, Zins and Merlots, Muscats and Ports, and a couple of varietals that I’ve never before heard of. It was lovely, although I found after a while that tasting every other wine was a better plan for me.

At the Winery by the Creek we got a treat we’d never before experienced. We tasted wine directly from the barrel. Young wine is weird and you have to try to “taste it forward.” For me, that didn’t mean much, but that’s probably because by the time we arrived there I was mostly done with wine tasting. We considered the merits of wine futures for the first time. NoNo was really tempted by both the Zinfandel and the Port, but left without buying either.

Ian and I came home with about six bottles after our adventure. We gave one to my folks as a way of thanking them for watching our boys for the afternoon.

Welcome to Asher’s Store. He has lots of merchandise, but also something of an inventory problem.

He uses his “computer” to work all the time. “Don’t touch my stuff!” he tells us one minute. The next, he says “Come buy something in my store and pay me money.”  Because of the computer he is able to take credit cards.

He carries a wide selection of tools and books, and random gizmos of all sorts. Some items cost 36 cents. Others cost “40-85-shs dollars.”

“Sit down and pay me money.”

It’s good that he has the latest in price scanners. It makes his service so excellent. You can bet I’m a repeat customer.

The virus that has plagued and obsessed my mother for the last … um … 20 years seems finally to have infected me. I spent my “break” moments today surfing the Internet for fabric. Yeah. One hundred percent cotton fabric. I shopped on Etsy and it was fun. I fell in love with designers David Walker and Michael Miller.

Here is Michael Miller’s “Sprockets.”

I have a small stash on the way to me!

“House School” is the delight of the moment. I gather from chatting with another second-grade dad, that it’s not just Lucas’s new play routine. Sounds like lots of second graders are playing school at home, teaching lessons, leading circle time, and saying verses. It manifested for us at home just three days ago. Ian and Asher were the first pupils to attend “House School,” as it’s known here. They had so much fun and raved about it. Lucas was thrilled to have found a game that the whole family could play—especially given that he gets to be in charge of it!

Last night I got to participate in House School a little, sitting in on a drawing lesson with my three boys. Lucas had cut out paper dragon shapes and we all got to color our dragons. I thought it was beautifully fitting for the feast day of St. Michael, which Wikipedia told me is traditionally held on September 29. Our four colorful dragons now adorn our Nature Table.

Something about this time of year has me feeling pulled in two directions in time. I’m wistful about our lazy summer evenings, which featured walks through our neighborhood, slow outdoor dinners with friends (regardless of the day of the week), sleeping until the sunlight streamed boldly through our bedroom window. I’m also feeling wistful about the little people I used to live with: Lucas as a younger boy, Asher as a baby.

At the same time, I’m eagerly looking forward to the joys of the autumn season: a trip to Apple Hill, the school Harvest Faire, our Thanksgiving Away (which hopefully will happen in November). I’m looking forward to some changes that will hopefully make us happier. The boys are growing and their capacity to adapt is greater. We’re thinking about moving them into the same bedroom together later this fall for several reasons: to promote their bonding, to bring their sleeping schedules into alignment with each other, to allow Asher to detach a little more from his nighttime dependence on us, and to allow me to set up shop in Lucas’s bedroom. I long for an office with a door again!

I also have lots of groovy, creative projects in mind, and keep envisioning more. I went to a craft night last night with other school parents and we sat around crafting, drinking wine, and chatting and it was lots of fun. These people are seriously creative! I worked on needle-felting mice for the Children’s Store at the Harvest Fair. I’m hoping to try my hand a soap-making soon, and I’ve been looking forward to taking a drop spinning class with a local teacher/Waldorf mama extraordinaire: Jennifer Tan of Syrendell.

I picked up a new editing project yesterday. You really never know where work is going to come from! This one came to me via my godmother and looks like it will be low-key, with a relaxed pace. It’s time to try lining up some winter projects. I’m pretty well booked through November-December. Staying on top of the marketing is always challenging and yet always worthwhile. I would like to add some new clients into the fold; some new regulars would be lovely.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Seven, in his own words:

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a doctor who only helps poor people. I’m going to work in the poorest country to help people stay alive. . . . Do you know about the New Adventures of Star Wars? It’s all about Lucas Skywalker and R2T2!”

Two, in his own words:

“I like Whisky Friskies. I want to go where the Whisky Friskies get acorns. I like acorns. I’m not a Whisky Frisky. I’m so-cute Baby Asher! . . . I like nipples.”

Michaelmas is coming! Our school will be celebrating Michaelmas with a festival on Friday, September 25. Ian and I are both planning to be there (with my camera). It’s an especially exciting year because Lucas is in the second grade, and the second graders get to play an important part!

At this time of year, the turning seasons remind us to slow down, come home, warm up, and consider. We are happier to look inward in the autumn and winter than we were during the summer months when we were busy living and doing. When we turn our attention in, we can see our own inner dragons waiting for us there. They deserve our attention again because they’ve been patient—even faithful—waiting for us to remember them. Our dragons are our fears, insecurities, failings, worries, and procrastinations.

Many years ago I started observing that life kind of went to hell around this time of year, near the Autumnal Equinox—that major upheavals happened, as though it were time to till life’s soil and bring up our mucky muck to air it out. Jobs change. Partners change. Challenges abound. We are forced to notice them, acknowledge them, and then deal with the issues, like it or not. It’s a tough time of year, it seems, for many people because old patterns of being and behaving stop serving us the way they did before.

Change and upheaval are the order of the season, it has always seemed to me. Facing our dragons, peering into the dark and letting our heart’s light shine forth is what gets us through it. So the Waldorf/Steiner story of Saint Michael and Saint George and the dragon fits just fine with my own outlook. Sometimes, all we really need to help us understand is a good metaphor to sink our teeth into.

In honor of Lucas’s special roll in facing down the dragon this year, we are making a big deal. Second graders (7- and 8-year-olds) are emotionally coming to terms with the fact that dragons do exist in our world, within humanity, and even within themselves. Things are not always good and well-intentioned and true. We must choose right or wrong. We must notice the dragons around us and within us and we must face them down. We must take up our swords and slay the dragons or tame them so that we make make this world a better place.

My musings about dragons led me on a dragon hunt here at home. This is what I found to inspire me.

Saint George and the Dragon, by Margaret Hodges.

This is a used, paperback book I bought when Lucas was 4-years-old. I waited a long time for him to be ready for it. I gave it to him this weekend, knowing that he is being told the story at school and that he is ready for it now.

Here is a detail from the battle. Trina Schart Hyman’s illustrations are very vibrant and evocative.

Illustration from Eric Carl's book, Dragons Dragons & Other Creatures That Never Were.

Dragon illustration in the Oxford Treasury of Classic Poems. It graces the page with Brian Patten's poem, "A Small Dragon." Facing it is Lewis Carroll's "Jabberwocky."

Then I hit the armor and art books to find these beautiful paintings to share.

Rover Van der Weyden, Saint George and the Dragon, c 1432 (Flemish), found in a book called Arms & Armor of the Medieval Knight, by David Edge & John Miles Paddock.

Raphael's St. George and the Dragon, c 1506, oil on panel, National Gallery of Art, Washington. This was in our book, The Great Masters, by Giorgio Vasari.

Hope you enjoyed our dragon hunt as much as I did. May you meet your own dragons head-on this season, with bravery and compassion.