Farewell, Nana. I love you.

I have long coveted the window stars I’ve seen at the Waldorf school and in photos. I bought a book of how to make them a while back and got so overwhelmed by the complex instructions that I didn’t attempt one for a year.

Eventually, in my combing the Internet, I stumbled upon the right kind of transparent “kite paper” and bought it. My paper is square, so I can now make all the stars that require squares.

Many of the stars in this book require rectangular tissue paper cut to specific sizes and I haven’t tried that yet. I guess my rotary fabric cutter would do the job, but I don’t know if that would be bad for the cutter.

This star was pretty easy to make, although I had to ask Ian help me figure out how to assemble the five points into the star. It was confusing because the instructions were wrong in a couple of places. The book could use a good editor in its next revision, I think! Still, I’m looking forward to making more of these. They’re pretty.

(painting by Lucas, second grade)

Look to this day,

For it is life,

The very life of life.

In its brief course lie all

The realities and verities of existence,

The bliss of growth,

The splendor of action,

The glory of power—

For yesterday is but a dream,

And tomorrow is only a vision,

But today, well lived,

Makes every yesterday a dream of happiness

And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

—Sanskrit proverb

Ian and spent just about an hour in Placerville last weekend, on our way to South Lake Tahoe for a short getaway. Mom had said, “Why don’t you get out of town for a while?” Why not, indeed!

Since we didn’t have the boys in tow, I dragged Ian to Lofty Lou’s, where I pawed at the yarn and came home with these gems. He’s such a good sport!

This is a four-ounce ball of Firestar, a sparkly nylon fiber that can be carded with wool or silk or other fibers and either spun or needle-felted. Pretty!

And this is a lovely hank of hand-painted wool in an array of autumn browns, golds, and russet reds that I’m hoping will inspire some lovely autumnal artwork. Or I could spin it into luscious yarn, which I haven’t done since last February and I really should practice so I don’t forget how.

Or maybe both. That’s what I love about roving; it can become so many things! And I’ve just spent a bit of time on abstractfiber.com and I must say, YUM!

Summer’s here and a rainbow of flowers is growing in my yard. I guess I’m still a girl at heart because this kind of thing thrills me. My garden is only missing a unicorn.

You may be bored with these spring pictures posts but I’m not. I seem to be endlessly fascinated with small things lately; they are unbelievably intricate if you look closely.

This blackberry maiden is being visited by her bee paramour, who is all up in her business.

I like the tangle and riot of color that makes up wild places.

Maypole top and blue sky.

This is redwood sorrel on the forest floor at Muir Woods. When the sun shines too brightly on this shade-loving plant, it folds its leaves down to minimize the exposure.

I’ve never really gardened from seed before. This spring Lucas and I put a variety of seeds directly in the ground or in pots. So far we seem to be having good luck with the corn, pumpkins, chard, cucumber, nasturtiums, morning glories, and four o’clocks. It’s kind of a miracle when the little seedling emerges from the earth! If they thrive it will be another miracle.

Blue is rather rare among plants. We found this wildflower at Indian Grinding Rock in April.

Red seeds soar above the Japanese maple in my backyard. To me they look like birds in flight.

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.

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.

Did you catch that sky last night? After the rain, my little corner of the world was ablaze with the sunset spilling over every wet surface it could find.

And someone I know just had to splash about in the lava.

Beauty sometimes washes over even my suburban, sidewalk-lacking street. All you have to do is notice.

Hold out.
Take only the worthy guest.
You are the guardian,
you the sacred host,
your body the temple.
Keep your sanctuary safe.
Receive no one without
deep mutual welcome.

Take in only angels—
those sent by God
bearing messages
of recognition—
I see you, entire,
complete, wholly—
all suffering,
all goodness,
all power,
all mirth.
Bright radiance inside,
and the silence, the darkness.

Such ones as can speak these words
will inspire you to conceive
and help you give birth
to the divine child.

In your union God sees
and becomes one with
Godself in each lover.

Between the legs of your dance
is the Gate of Heaven. It waits
for the true lover to enter
and create the union
of Heaven and Earth.

This communion of sex
is no sweet foretaste
but already participation,
enactment of Heaven,
the best there is from God.

You were born for this.
Do not say yes to less
than two loving fullnesses
overflowing into pure bliss…

—Alla Renée Bozarth

A portion excerpted from the poem, “Pure Lust, Perfect Bliss—Holy Communion” by Alla Renée Bozarth, which is published in the audiocassette, Reading Out Loud to God, Wisdom House copyright 1990; and the printed books, Soulfire, Yes International Publishers, copyright 1997; and The Book of Bliss, iUniverse copyright 2000. All rights reserved.