This Easter was really great. I especially enjoyed the buildup to it because we did a number of crafty things that turned out beautifully. 

I’ve always loved dying Easter eggs—for my whole life it’s been one of the things that signifies Spring to me in a very concrete way, even when Easter arrives rainy and grey. This year, I decided it would be fun to dye our eggs naturally—meaning no Paws dye kits, no food coloring and vinegar concoctions. This time, we used kitchen and yard ingredients only.

* Turmeric for yellow
* Beet juice for pink
* Blueberry juice for lavender
* Red cabbage for blue
* Birch leaves/grass and assorted kitchen veggies for green
* Coffee for brown
* Onion skin juice for peachy orange 
* Vinegar

It was significantly more expensive dying the 18 eggs this way, and it took probably four times longer than a kit would have taken. But it was easily four times more fun! And we spend less than … probably $9.

Getting a good-looking green solution took a lot of work and time, and surprisingly, it did not color the eggs at all. I also assumed that coffee would easily stain the egg brown, but it didn’t. (That may be because I used the used coffee grounds instead of fresh coffee. I suddenly became frugal when it came time to use the coffee. Can you see my vices?) 

We called it “Kitchen Science” while we were doing this, and stressed to Lucas that it was all a big eggsperiment. We didn’t know how well it would work, whether we’d get nice colors, or if it would fail completely. A la “Myth Busters” we said, “Failure is always an option.” 

But if you care to scroll down to the end, you’ll see that our eggsperiment was a great success! We got lovely eggs in soft, earthy shades. They weren’t pale, as I expected. And as they aged overnight and over Easter day, they sort of changed colors, which was unexpected. Some got darker, some paler. Perhaps they oxidized? We wonder if the beet-colored pink eggs turned brownish because of iron in the juice. And weirdest of all, the blueberry-dyed, dark lavender eggs became a mottled lavender-and-orange before Easter was done. They were really cool!

At one point, when it became clear that we wouldn’t have any green eggs, I contemplated cheating and pulling out the food dye. But Ian convinced me not to, reminding me how cool it would be to have a basketful of plant-dyed eggs, and how not cool it would be to have almost all plant-dyed eggs and the green ones we cheated for. So we finished it as originally intended, and they were gorgeous!

That’s probably the longest story about eggs you’ve ever read.

So, Ian and I have a date to go to a new restaurant owned by Mason Song, called Maritime Seafood and Grill, in Carmichael on Saturday  (http://www.sacbee.com/117/story/423116.html), so today, Valentine’s Day, isn’t the romantic, knock-your-cock-ring-off kind of day the diamond stores would have us think it is. (But don’t get me wrong—I got nothin’ against cock rings or diamonds!)

We have celebrated—but we did it with our kids. Late last night, I made a path of red, pink, and light pink paper hearts from Lucas’s bedroom to the kitchen table, and from our bedroom to the kitchen. I set out red placemats, a red candle, a Valentine’s balloon, and homemade Valentines at each place setting. I set out the heart-shaped egg molds, but forgot that we were out of eggs. No worries! Yogurt, chicken nuggets, and cereal for Lucas and quesadillas for us are a perfect way to celebrate Valentine’s Day!

When Lucas woke this morning, he came into our bedroom as usual and whispered, “Dad, there’s something special in the living room. Come see!” It wasn’t until the lights were on that he realized the paper hearts on the floor lead all the way to the kitchen. “Theres even a heart on my chair!” he said. We had a nice breakfast together, with only a moderate amount of “Get your clothes on!” and “No! My foot hurts!” drama. Five-year-olds are weird.

Today at school, Lucas enjoyed a Valentine’s Day party, complete with a story, a cookie, and a special dance. “Everyone fell down!” he said. “Even Miss Johnson! And Ripley, but I caught her. I saw that she was going to fall down so I went over and caught her.” (Lucas has a crush on Ripley, I think.)

He brought home Valentines that he made at school and a Valentine crown. He also brought out the Valentine that he made last week with grandma VoVo, which he’s kept hidden in his room, and gave it to us. They are all very cute and he was very proud of them. We talked about how on Valentine’s Day, we make sure that the people we love know we love them. 

EDIT: I forgot to mention that Ian went grocery shopping to buy a special (last-minute) dinner, too. Good thing he called home before he checked out! He brought home a beautiful bouquet of flowers to grace our dinner table.

I took the kids grocery shopping late this afternoon to buy supplies for a special (last-minute) dinner. I cooked London Broil with mushrooms and onions and salad. I bought big, fat (heart-like) strawberries and whipped up some cream for dipping. Ian made me two cosmos and then poured a lovely red wine with dinner. So, halfway through the meal I realized that I was totally tipsy and thoroughly enjoying myself. “Watch out, mom! If you have too many cosmos, you might get drunk and then you can’t drive a car!” Lucas informed me. I told him I wasn’t going anywhere. The strawberries and whipped cream after dinner were a big hit. We all laughed  a lot and even Asher ate two strawberries.

So, in the midst of our “normal” weeknight routine of dinner prep, cleanup, shower, stories, and bed, I ended up being drunk and goofy. Ian and I got romantic while Lucas showered and Asher (unbeknownst to us) splashed in the toilet. 

Oh. Shit! Not supposed to get frisky while the baby splashes in the toilet! That’s on the special Only Bad Parents Do These Things list. Ooops. Dammit, Ian, weren’t you supposed to buy those toilet locks?!

We moved on to stories (Days wth Frog and Toad) and cuddles for Lucas and drunk mama. We sang and snuggled and professed our undying, immeasurable love for one another. Asher crawled into Lucas’s room looking for me while we were cuddling—not something that usually happens.

So, now we get to try to coax Asher to sleep before Ian and I can make love. Hopefully, the baby will fall asleep before I do, but after several worrisome, sick-baby, wakeful nights, I’d say it’s now about even odds.

I promised I’d get permission before I posted this one, so we’ll see if Ian lets it pass.

Sometimes being a parent and a woman madly in love with her husband results in crossed wires and surreal nights. Oh. I think I hear Ian behind the bar shakin’ up another cosmo.
 

Last year, I managed to throw together a tiny Solstice celebration. At the last minute, I invited Theresa and Greg and Phoebe over for dinner. I decorated the table with a gold lamé and served only yellow foods (butternut squash soup, oranges, summer squashes cut into disks and sautéed, chicken with a lemon sauce, sparkling cider, and probably other stuff I don’t remember). We had a lovely, silly time, subtly worshipping the sun and its return.

Today I don’t have any such thing planned, but maybe I’ll go to the grocery store for some oranges or something.

Over the course of this month, we’ve been observing Advent, à la Waldorf schools and Anthroposophists rather than Catholics/Christians. The difference is slight, however. We have an Advent Wreath (a real evergreen wreath) and in the center we placed a Celtic-style candleholder that was a gift from Flonkbob (and Chilipantz?) many years ago. Although the candleholder is not a ring, per se, it features three outer candles with a place for one elevated candle in the center. It’s beautiful and works nicely as the symbolic equivalent of the four weeks leading up to Solstice/Christmas, with the fourth being the prominent one signifying the birth of the Sun/Christ. (The Advent wreath we had when I was growing up was a ring, but in the Catholic tradition, we used 3 purple candles and 1 pink candle signifying the climax. Pink/purple are the traditional colors of Advent in the church.) This year, I’ve stuffed it with golden beeswax candles made by lovely dakini_grl.

Each night, we’ve been reciting the following poem, which I believe is traditional for the Anthroposophists:

The first light of Advent,
It is the light of Stones,
Stones that live in crystals, seashells,
And our bones.

The second light of Advent
It is the light of plants,
Plants that reach up to the sun,
And in the breezes dance.

The third light of Advent,
It is the light of Beasts,
The light of hope that we may see
In greatest and in least

The fourth light of Advent,
It is the light of man,
The light of love, the light of thought,
To give and understand.

I like this verse because it’s earth- and human-centered. It’s pagan-sounding to me. But that pagan stuff isn’t quite so important to me as it used to be. I’ve become like Joseph Campbell in my old age. I’ve been meditating on the meaning of Christmas to me and how well I see the lines that connect this holiday with other, older holidays. My need to step apart and define myself as a pagan, as something entirely other than a Christian, is much diminished. I’m finding that this is making me really happy, and is allowing me to enjoy all the religiosity of the season more. Somehow there’s less of a reason to be uptight.

ASIDE:
At one point last year sometime, Ian’s mother expressed concern that Lucas must be educated about the Christian faith so that he can live in our God-fearing, Christian society.  I hardly fear that Lucas will somehow escape learning a basic knowledge of Christianity, just because we don’t define ourselves as Christians. She worried because we were attending the Unitarian Universalist Society services: “Do they even talk about Christ?!”

Anyway, we have been singing the Advent song that mentions the Christ child along with our candle-lighting ritual. Lucas’s face always lights up when we sing “Then comes the Christ child at the door.” I think that he is really captivated by the image of a child being the inspiration of the season.

The other morning, all by myself, I sat down on the couch in my living room with some Christmas carol sheet music and sang my wondering Christian heart out.