My parents bought me this awesome sewing machine for Christmas. It’s my third machine. I am still learning and I’m kind of hard on them. (For the record, two of my sewing machines work and one of them is a perfect learning machine. I thought I might let Lucas take it for a spin.) But this new one—this Janome New Home—is all mine. (Besides, Mom gets nervous whenever I go near her Bernina.)

Back in December I conceived of giving Asher an Earthbender costume, inspired by one of our family’s favorite shows, Avatar the Last Airbender. Asher has always been fondest of the Earthbending skill, and when he plays at “bending,” he is always an Earthbender. Maybe it’s because green is his favorite color. At first, I thought this costume might be a Christmas gift, but then I realized it was more appropriate for his sixth birthday.

So I bought a mini gi. (Actually, I bought two. The first was too mini.) I know my limitations and I realized I could spiff-up a gi more efficiently than I could make one from scratch.

I spent a day last week dyeing the top green and the pants and belt a taupe color. Pale yellow would have been nicer, but that wasn’t an option when buying dye.

My mom and I carefully picked out some fancy trim, and last night I got my new sewing machine out and put it to use. I even changed the needle to a denim one, to go through all the layers of the gi edge! I read the manual and everything! Amazingly, my boys slept through my sewing.

I cut off the sleeves and sewed on this gold and green fringe. I wanted the costume to look like a cool martial arts gi, but not exactly like a karate uniform. I have one day left before Asher’s birthday gift will be presented to him. I’m presently debating about whether to use the sleeves I cut off to make wrist bands or a headband. I hope to decorate this final item(s) with the Earthbender symbol.

Today I spent the morning in Asher’s kindergarten class with him, to help celebrate his birthday at school. His teacher told me that yesterday she asked him what he wished for. He said he wished for infinite wishes, and for a closet full of costumes. A CLOSET FULL OF COSTUMES!

Maybe I actually have made him the right birthday gift. … Or maybe he won’t wear it at all. That’s also a possibility. If he does like it and wear it, I’ll be sure to get a photo.

Anyway, there’s just one hour left in this Circle of Moms Top 25 Creative Moms contest. Here’s the button to vote for me. My gratitude goes out to all the wonderful friends and readers who have voted for me daily over the last two weeks. Thank you for the support and for helping me get into and stay in the Top 25! Voting closes at 4 p.m. PST on 1/30.

Thanks again!

I haven’t done a This Moment in a long time. 😉

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.

In this post I’m going to share with you a few links to some beautiful Valentine ideas and craft tutorials. I figure that late January is the time to start thinking about making Valentines if you have class sets to make. If you’ve got more than one child in school, and about 30 classmate for each child, well, that’s a heck of a lot of love that you have to create before Valentine’s Day!

I’ll start with a few of our own projects.

Here is an easy way to use up any fabric scraps you might have lying about your sewing basket: Valentine Stones. I made these for my family but they could be for classmates, too. Each stone has a fabric heart on one side, with a message of friendship on the other.

These Spin Art Valentines were created using a Spin Art painting toy. These are a little labor-intensive if your child is young. But the results are quite beautiful and each one is unique. I didn’t write out a full tutorial for these, but I think you get the idea from the photo. Spin the paint. When paintings are dry, cut out hearts or butterflies. Glue them to cards.

I’ll spare you the Crayon Heart Valentines. They’re all over the internetz. They are fun to make, though.

These Rainbow Valentines are painted coffee filters. They are easy even for the smallest children to make. Simply paint three or four colors of Stockmar watercolor paints onto painting paper or coffee filters. Allow the paintings to dry on a flat surface. When they are dry, cut paintings into smaller pieces, if necessary, and then fold each one in half and cut a heart shape. Add the child’s name to the back or a simple message, such as “You warm my heart.” Older children can embellish the fronts of their rainbow hearts with some glitter glue, or sew them onto colored cardstock with a needle and embroidery floss to make lovely Valentines.

Make a Valentine Tree and decorate it with beeswax hearts! Use pink, red, and white modeling beeswax to make pretty heart ornaments. Warm the beeswax in your hands or place in a pot of warm water for a few minutes to soften it up. Give each child a chunk of softened beeswax and ask them to make a heart. It can be solid, or just an outline, one color or several. Thin “snakes” of beeswax can be braided together and then formed into a heart shape. As the wax cools, it will stiffen and keep the shape you make. Poke a hole in any solid hearts. Add a ribbon or yarn loop for a hanger and then hang all the pretty hearts on a bare tree branch in a vase.

I made these little Valentine Pillow Sachets for my kids one year. They are wool felt and stuffed with wool batting, lavender flowers and some essential oil. My boys keep these little pillows in their beds. And although they do get lost among the bedclothes, when they are found again my kids always take a long sniff. Even after several years, they still smell great. An older child can practice handwork skills by making one of these for a best friend, perhaps.

Here is a great tutorial for shaved crayon hearts (suncatchers?) by my friend Marcy at A Simple Life. I’m very tempted to do these this year. I think these look great in the window.

Eileen at Little Acorn Learning shares a sweet Little Heart Baby tutorial here. This little doll would be a perfect gift for a child or a teacher, and would make a charming addition to a classroom or home nature table.

I was recently nominated for an award of sorts at Circle of Moms. Some kind soul (I don’t know who) nominated my blog for the Top 25 Creative Moms list there and folks can vote for their favorite blogs. The voting continues until the end of January and you can vote for more than one blog, once each 24 hours. I’d be honored if you’d vote for me, and keep voting for me. It would be very nifty to get into that Top 25 list.

This button takes you to the voting site. Vote for me!

I’ve never been involved in one of these things before, but there’s always a (typically awkward) first time, right? It’s neat because I’m planning to ramp up and improve my attention, involvement, and content here. So please check back often for new, more useful material. A girl with a writer’s soul just has to write. And a girl with an artist’s eye just has to share her visions.

In other news, my little guy turns six years old in two weeks. I’ve finally figured out the outline of his birthday party and sent invitations. Usually I’m more on top of things like this, but I’ve been working quite a lot lately. Well, we’re getting RSVPs back now, so that’s great. Crisis averted!

I’ve got a few homemade gifts in mind for him, and must carve away some time to work on them. I am making Asher an Earthbending costume, inspired by Avatar the Last Airbender, which is a show that my whole family adores. Great story-telling, good characters, plenty of heart, and featuring themes of friendship, commitment, duty, forgiveness, family, courage, peace, and finding one’s own way, Avatar is good TV. Asher has always liked the Earth Kingdom in the show the best. He has started dressing up for play in recent months, finally using the King’s costume I made for him two years ago. I think this Earthbending outfit idea is a winner.

Yesterday we scouted the location of his “Fantasy Wizards in a Forest” party.

This place will fit the bill nicely, I think! This is a is 17 acre undeveloped park right here in Fair Oaks, just five minutes from our home. It features tall, beautiful eucalyptus trees, a tiny creek with mossy banks, green meadows, fallen logs, wild mushrooms, and plenty of crisscrossing paths that you might call “trails.” Our plan for the party is to allow the children as much space to roam and explore as is safe. The park is big enough that it feels wild, but not really big enough to get lost in, and I expect a small gaggle of 6- and 7-year-olds to make plenty of noise.

Wishing you a bright and happy day!

I let this space lie fallow for about ten days over Christmas. My blog and my family all needed a little rest, but during that break our lives were full of heartwarming moments, resting, friendship, and joy.

Christmas morning began very early—long before dawn. And while I am far, far from a morning person, I leaped out of bed to make sure the boys didn’t start without us!

We opened gifts from Santa and stockings by the fireplace, while eagerly awaiting the first cup of coffee. Santa gave Lucas a slingshot! He gave Asher some yarn and a kaleidoscope! And both boys got some groovy knights on chargers. The big gift for Lucas was a 4-in-1 woodworking tool that functions as a lathe, jigsaw—and two other things that I forget. Asher got some high density foam dragons that he and Daddy could build.

We had a beautiful Christmas morning, just the four of us and Solstice dog, gathered around our Christmas tree. We watched the world outside our windows lighten and we opened book after wondrous book.

Ian got some new workout gear and a kettle bell (and books). My sweet boys gave me slippers and a cute hat, which Lucas described in detail to Ian before they went looking for it. Ian gave me a gorgeous pair of gray leather boots.

Asher brushed my hair for me.

These are gifts from Asher and Lucas to me and Ian. Asher made a sweet gnome for Daddy and a beautiful silk scarf that he painted for me. Lucas carved this amazing candle stick in woodworking class at school. It is simply wonderful!

We ate yummy sticky buns for breakfast and had time to play and read a little before we went visiting.

The star of the show this year was sweet baby Jack, our new nephew/cousin. It was Jack’s first Christmas and that was so very special for all of us.

Seeing Lucas holding Jack was delightful. He’s just peachy.

After visiting Ian’s family we went to my Mom and Dad’s and visited with them and my brother and his dog Zoe. There were many wonderful presents. My mama knitted me and Ian hats and scarves. The boys got Legos. What more could we ask for? My grand score: six more oil painting classes.

We wrapped up our Christmas by hosting 50 people at a party at our home that evening. Friends from near and far joined us here to celebrate and catch up. Our home was full of love and laughter and charming, smart people. The goth kids arrived at 11 p.m., right on schedule. I think we fell into bed at 2 a.m. on the 26th!

2012: The year that featured plenty of Big and Scary and Sad. I learned so much this year and I am grateful for all the opportunities and lessons it brought, although I often didn’t like learning them. I’ve watched us dig deep and come out older, wiser, and sadder but with a greater capacity to love.

Plenty of amazing and beautiful things happened, too. When I look through photos from the year, I see so much color, so much light, so much adventure, so much growth.

I asked my family what were the best parts of 2012 for them.

Lucas’s Favorities:
He got to ride the biggest roller coaster on the SC Boardwalk and do the Haunted House for the first time.
This Christmas—“What part?” I asked. “The Christmas part.” I think he means everything about Christmas.
The world didn’t end. He’s glad about that.

Ian’s Favorites:
He finished his second Tough Mudder at Diablo Grande in the California Central Valley.
Our family trip to Santa Cruz in September, when we visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium and the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk with Ian’s brother Danny.
Both of our summer camping trips to Grover Hot Springs with our beloved Barbarians and DL Bliss State Park with our Waldorf school chums.

Asher’s Favorities:
His. Own. Legos. And playing Legos any chance he gets.
Being an “Older” in Kindergarten and all the great responsibility that entails.
Playing D&D with Daddy and Brother. Playing with Solstice dog.
“Writing books. Annoying my brother. Getting presents from Santa.”

My Favorities:
Watching Lucas play Thor in the spring fourth grade play and Hanuman in the Ramayana in the fall.
Painting, especially my landscape class and how challenging it was.
Writing e-books and publishing festival e-books with Eileen at Little Acorn Learning.
I am closer now to some friends than before and that feels wonderful.
Celebrating so many lovely holidays with my family. Creating joy and memories.
My birthday wine-tasting excursion with my friends.
Family Clay Camp with my kiddos in the summer.

Happy New Year! May you find new richness in the everyday, new opportunities, new friends, and new delights in 2013. May you find peace and laughter, forgiveness and love for self and others.

Do you ever wish you had a physical expression of all the many things your family is thankful for? Here is a simple project that can be just that. Hang this Thanksgiving Leaf Mobile over your dining room table or in your family room to decorate for the Thanksgiving holiday and remind your whole family of the bounty of blessings that you all share together.

Materials

• white circular paper coffee filters
• washable marker pens and spray bottle with water, or watercolor paints
• green floral wire
• two or three strands of raffia
• two sticks
• sewing machine or needle and thread
• scissors
• leaves to use as patterns (optional)
• pen (I used a silver pen, but any type will do)

Create Your Gratitude Leaves

Begin by coloring your paper coffee filters with washable markers. I suggest you use mostly autumn colors. You don’t have to color anything fancy and you don’t have to worry about white spaces in between the strokes of the marker pen.

Now lay your colored coffee filters on a clean dry surface and spray them gently with water from your spray bottle. Because you are using coffee filters, the water will wick throughout the paper, spreading out your ink. The colors of the marker pens will blend together, making a beautiful wash. (Alternatively paint your coffee filters with watercolors.)

Let the filters dry. Once dry, they won’t adhere to the work surface.

Now, fold each coffee filter circle in half and cut out a leaf shape, using real leaves as patterns, if you wish. You may want your leaves to be all the same type, varying only in size. Or, you might like to have many types of leaves. Cut out a bunch of paper leaves (I made 31).

With your family’s help, write what you all feel thankful for on the leaves. Write the name of each family member and pet on leaves. Write down the material things you enjoy, such as a house, a car, and food to eat. Also write abstract concepts such as safety, peace, harmony, education, freedom, friendship, and health. You may be surprised by what your children are grateful for, when they give you their ideas.

I bet that once you start counting your blessings, you’ll have no trouble creating many gratitude leaves.

Create Your Thanksgiving Leaf Mobile

Your leaves are ready now. It’s time to sew them into a long string or banner that will hang vertically from your mobile. The simplest and fastest way to do this is by using a sewing machine set on a long stitch or very wide zigzag stitch. (You don’t want a short stitch because many needle holes very close together may actually cut your leaf into halves as you sew it.)

You want a fairly long “tail” of thread on your first leaf, as this thread will tie the whole sewn string of leaves to your mobile. While you’re sewing, allow the machine to continue sewing even off of the leaf. This results in a string of interlocked thread that provides some spacing in between your gratitude leaves and allows for additional motion in your mobile. Consider feeding the leaves into the sewing machine in a variety of orientations. If you do this, you’ll create a windswept look instead of a static look that would result in leaves pointing all the same direction.

See how the leaves come off the back of the sewing machine, with some space in between them? Sew several strings of leaves. Four or five strands works very nicely. Remember not to trim your threads yet! (You can also create these leaf strands by doing a running stitch by hand with a narrow needle and thread.)

Next, construct your stick hanger. Cross your two sticks in the centers and use the floral wire to bind them together. Wrap the wire around both twigs in all directions until they feel securely bound together. This is also the time to make a wire loop that will serve as a hanger for your mobile.

You can get fancy here if you want by adding some real or artificial fall leaves and berries to the top by poking them into the wire. Just keep in mind that the most beautiful part of your mobile should be your gratitude leaves. Whether you choose to add decorative items or not, disguise the wire by wrapping some raffia strands around the joint.

Find a place to hang your crossed sticks at about shoulder level so you can work on the mobile with both hands, or get a helper to hold it for you. Now tie your leaf strands to the ends of each stick by their extra long top threads. If you have enough, also tie a strand to the center of the mobile. Last of all, clip any extra thread from the tops and bottoms of your leaf strands.

Hang your mobile somewhere prominent in your home, perhaps where some airflow may move it or where autumn sunshine might make it shine. When you look at it, you’ll see how very blessed and grateful you and your loved ones are. Blessed be!

I try not to get too sentimental about my children growing up. They grow. They are made to. They strive and learn and change and discover and grow every day, with or without my consent. And I approve. Most of the time I am too busy being astounded and amazed by their leaps of intelligence, judgement, compassion, and understanding, and feats of strength and skill to be the least bit sad about their not being babies anymore.

These are pants and shorts and pajamas that my mother and I have for Asher to wear. They were sewn for him and made with love (and in my case, with mistakes and a fair amount of learning frustration). They are all too small for Asher now, and I have sent them on their merry way to another sweet boy (and his baby sister) who may get some further use out of them. They are not the first set of handmades to be passed along, and they certainly won’t be the last. Growth and change are guaranteed.

Nevertheless, I was sentimental enough to take a photo before passing them on. These clothes are loved, soft and colorful, and unique in the world. They are special not only because they once covered my sweet son’s soft skin, but because they were created with loving hands and clever tools and eyes for detail. They are special because they were made first in our hearts before they came to be objects in the world.

May they be useful in the years to come, until they are once again outgrown.

1990
You were young and beautiful. You were sassy and courageous, and wicked smart. You swore a lot. Wore loads of silver jewelry. We had a Norse mythology course together and you were into women’s studies. We had coffee together, and lunches.
You introduced me to Dave, your boyfriend at the time, who was one of the gentlest guys I’d ever met.
You guys offered to get me high, in your cute little apartment with altars and weird art. Shivas and Kalis and Bob Marley, scarves draped over lamps, incense. I don’t remember all the details. I just know I’d never been in a home like yours before.
You were wild and wonderful, a force of female energy. No denying it. No need to.
You were my Hecate sister, my Artemis, wise beyond your years and more concerned with being free and thinking free, so that caution wasn’t a concern.
You were not afraid of the dark.
You gave me a beaded Scorpio bracelet. I still have it.

You wrote poetry and articles—a “zine” we called it back then. For a few years after I moved away, we stayed in touch. You sent me some of your work. I missed you terribly.

2011
And we met again in 2011, via Facebook. I had searched for your name repeatedly over the years, and then finally one day, I found the right Amanda. In Sacramento!

You came to my home and met my family. You and Ian used to know each other, when we were in college together. You met my kids for the first time.
You were still wild, and now with an edge. A little more darkness and pain. Probably a lot more. I didn’t know how you could fit into my domestic bliss. I was a little afraid of your brand of crazy.

But your voice was the same, and I was thrilled to know you again. It felt great to hold you in my arms when we hugged. Your voice—I can hear you speaking in my mind even now. I will never forget your voice, Amanda. And that you helped me learn how to use mine.

2012
How are you gone? I found out through Facebook, which is a shitty thing to find out no matter how the news travels. But because of Facebook I knew within a day. My friend is dead? Is it some kind of sick, inside joke? Not real?
Real.

You are – were 42 years old. Too young, my dear. I blew it, Amanda. I’m sorry I didn’t really understand how tough life was for you. I wasted too much time, when we could have been talking on the phone, or meeting for coffee. I could have …

Now I wear your Scropio bracelet that you gave me 20 years ago. And I hear you in my mind sometimes. And I stalk you on Facebook. I read the things that your friends are writing to you and about you. I’ve written to you there, too—how I really wish things were different.

Your wall is the weirdest and newest kind of gravestone. This now-ubiquitous technology has allowed people who don’t know each other to connect, share stories, and to mourn. I read what’s written there, and page through your photos. I’ve stolen some because I don’t have any of you that I can find; we were friends before I used a camera constantly. The photos are little pixels of you. They are not enough, but it’s what we have.

Ours was and is a mediated relationship, and I am sorry for that. Your horoscopes come up in my newsfeed, as if you were still using them, sharing them. I think you might like that these weird astrological messages come from the ether on your behalf. Through Facebook I have learned that your friends are holding a memorial for you tomorrow in Sacramento and I cannot be there for it. I am hoping that those who go will post photographs, and continue to use your FB wall as a way of showing and sharing our love for you. I hope this digital tribute, this little slice of your life will continue. It is weird and wild and wonderful.

Like you. Magic.

Too soon, my Hecate sister. Too soon to fade into the night.
I’ll see you again someday at the crossroads.

 (Art by Bernhard Hoetger, 1874–1949; photo by Jürgen Howaldt )

Michaelmas Song

Wind in the trees blows for summer’s last song,
Threshing the boughs, pelting the leaves along.
Sleepers awake, hark to the word of the wind!
Breaking old summer’s dull drowsy spell,
Show us the way,  go with thy spear before,
Forge us the future, thou Michael.

Frost of the ground at misty dawning shines bright,
Cracking the clod, lining the twigs with white.
Sleepers awake, hark to the word of the frost!
Breaking old summer’s dully drowsy spell,
Show us the way,  go with thy spear before,
Forge us the future, thou Michael.

Myriad stars shine in the frosty clear skies,
Outshining all, the meteor earthward flies,
Sleepers awake, hark to the word of the star!
Breaking old summer’s dully drowsy spell,
Show us the way,  go with thy spear before,
Forge us the future, thou Michael.

With hearts aglow men mark the changing fresh world,
When from the stars Michael’s spear is hurled.
Sleepers awake, hark to the word of the world!
Breaking old summer’s dully drowsy spell,
Show us the way,  go with thy spear before,
Forge us the future, thou Michael.

—A. C. Harwood

(Drawing by Lucas, age 10)

It’s that time of year again. Michaelmas time. Time for me to reflect a little on courage, on challenges, and on how we face them as the days grow shorter and the nights cooler. This is an election year, so a fair amount of courage is required to keep our heads up, our hearts strong, and our minds clear while we try to sort truth from fiction, lies, and mendacity.

I’ve lived in this Michaelmas mindset for several months now because my friend Eileen and I were writing a book on the topic. I thought I might have said everything I have to say on the subject of Michaelmas. I’ve flirted with metaphorical dragons while finding ways to creatively express the mood of the season and how to explore it with children. In the back of my mind, my real dragons have waited. In the forefront of my mind, they have called me out on the carpet more times than I care to admit.

If they can call me out, then it’s only fair that I call them out. Naming them has always been therapeutic for me.

Fear

“Who do you think you are?” Do you ever hear this in your mind late at night when the rest of your family is asleep? I do. Another thing I hear is “It will never work,” and “Everyone else does this better than you.” Honestly, I think we face our fears every single day, not just at Michaelmas time. We face fear of rejection, scorn, and exclusion whenever we live out loud and express ourselves, when we make art, when we love whom we love, when we parent in a way that is contrary to how we were raised, when we bravely head for a steady job we dislike, or when we sit down to figure out a problem. We face our fears when we say, “No, no farther,” or when we say, “Yes, you can count on me to help.” We stand up to fear especially when we speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves. That’s when we experience the courage of the Archangel Michael.

Boredom

This dragon interests me a lot because I ask myself, “How can you possibly be bored?” The truth is I’m not bored, but I do crave newness. I crave novel experiences and new projects, new people and new adventures. One of the benefits of the life I’ve created with my family is that it is comfortable and safe, happy and healthy. We have a good rhythm for our family and our children thrive in it. The Boredom Dragon would sit there and tell me I should be doing something else, presumably something more exciting. I have no desire to trade my happy life for anything, so I beat back this pest with small personal and professional challenges whenever I can, like trying to learn something altogether new or adopting a new hobby or making a new friend.

Ill Health

I’ve watched from various distances while several people I care about encountered some pretty serious ill health this year. Some are elders and their problems aren’t unexpected. Some are people in their prime of life, and I’m left thinking this is just not fair. There is a strange negotiation that goes into encountering illness and injury, a series of confrontations and compromises. I stand and witness without judgement. I admire the way they have faced their problems head-on, learning all the information they can, taking steps to mitigate symptoms and care for themselves and the people they love. I’ve watched as they reprioritize and embrace their new paradigms, while ditching those old patterns that no longer apply. It’s another kind of growing up.

Wanting and Lack

This dragon is a familiar companion and a master deceiver. It tells a tale that worms into the heart and I must ferret it out. We confront a significant challenge in our choice of private school education, and this dragon wakes up and rumbles at us at least once a month at bill-paying time. However, I have only to look around me and see abundant evidence that I am surrounded by love and beauty, friendship and plenty, opportunity and understanding. My life is blessed in a million ways and I know it, and so this dragon is ridiculous in its falsehood. The Lack Dragon is a seducer and a liar. There is enough. I am enough. I do not want for anything. And everything will be OK.

Loss and Death

This is almost too painful to write, but I and my friends and family have experienced all too much of this dragon this year. Our tribe lost two beloved souls this year, one elder and one tiny child. My mother lost her best friend. None of these stories are my stories and I don’t feel I have the right to tell them. I can only say I’ve cried many tears of heartbreak and loss. Many tears of helplessness and sympathy and wishing things were different. I’ve also watched our community gather to witness, to greet reality in the light of day, and to say farewell. We’ve sent our love into the ether and into each other’s hearts. We put one foot in front of the other, day after day, and we do not forget.

I have referred to this year as the Year of the Big and Scary—and for good reasons. Ultimately, all I can conclude from this year’s many lessons is that courage is born out of love. Darkness is best faced with our beloveds at our sides and at our backs. And, as I wrote in our book,

“Michaelmas is also a community celebration, in which we are reminded that we succeed when we work together to overcome hunger, want, and disease, and the less visible dangers of loneliness and fear. It is our chance to come together on the good, green earth and declare to one another: We are alive. We are together. Together we are strong. Together and with pure hearts, we can overcome.”