It has been a kind of surreal week, trying to get back into our normal lives and starting school after Burning Man. We’re kind of discombobulated. We’re not used to the alarm clock or waking in the dark. We don’t know where important stuff is. The mountains of both clean and dirty laundry are huge and taking over our living room, despite the washing, folding, and putting away I’ve been doing. We need groceries. The kids need haircuts and we forgot to take the fingernail polish off them. I guess that’s what the weekend is for.

I’ve been feeling lots of various feelings this week, too: happy to be home, lazy and sleepy, creative and happy, grateful for my work but not wanting to do it. During the day I’m missing my loves and yet glad to be alone. I’ve not quite settled back into real life again; my consciousness is kind of floating on the dusty breezes still, drifting through vast azure skies.

Lucas is very happy to be back at school. I find this quite remarkable, as he didn’t exactly have a sit-around-and-do-nothing summer vacation. He was basically booked solid with fun camps, activities, and play dates almost the entire time. I guess that final week and a half without his friends was tough. So he’s been joyfully bouncing out of the house in the morning (and getting dressed without prodding or argument). When I picked him up from school yesterday afternoon, he looked bushed. “Four classes now, Mom.” That’s because he’s hit the big time: In third grade he now has full days and doesn’t get out until 3:30.

This week hasn’t been quite so easy for Asher, however. He’s adjusting to a new school, new teacher, and new schedule. After something like ten days with all of his family around him, he’s missing us at school. He’s been asking each morning if it’s a family day today. (“Tomorrow, dear one. Two family days in a row.”) We had a few difficult morning drop-offs, during which he was brave but oh so sad to see me go. In another week it will be different, I think. He’ll settle in soon. We are very pleased that his three buddies from his last school all landed at this one. So although there are new children to adjust to, there are old friends as well.

Asher’s school has a waterfall and small raised pond (fenced per state law), a rabbit hutch with two bunnies, chickens, a playhouse, a stage, a sandbox, an outdoor snack area, garden beds and fruit trees, swings, and stepping stones through the lawn. Indoors is a lovely, sunny playroom full of pretty Waldorf toys. There are two big cats (Matches and Barley) and one tiny dog named Poppers. This morning’s good-bye went better. I think it’s going to work out fine.

I’m still not entirely sure what to say about Burning Man, nor what pictures to show here. My heart is full of love and gratitude. We have endured and celebrated nature, the elements, life, humanity, friendship, silliness, joy. My impressions of Burning Man are swirly and colorful.

Nevada desert on the way to the playa

Sunset after a brief rainstorm

I am so glad we went, and especially glad that we camped with so many wonderful friends. Our campmates were super fun and very patient with our small taggers-on. They helped us look out for the boys, entertain them, and graciously shared their “space yogurts” (yogurt in a tube) and other goodies that were novel and exciting. Two friends even volunteered to babysit one night so Ian and I could have a much-needed date!

Our children were brave in the face of not only a hostile environment but also a Saturnalian one, where grown-ups generally don’t behave as usual, where instead they act silly, dye their hair pink, dress in funny clothes (or none at all), and spend their time playing, adventuring, or lazing about. It was a place where you might gleefully talk with strangers and give a made-up playa name just for the fun of playing at being someone else. Best of all, our boys got to see that play is for everyone, that all human beings need long stretches of time to do nothing, or only what we want to do, and that these moments are crystalline and pure. Climbing, running, jumping, dancing, flying kites, making friends, laughing and telling jokes, creating art, falling in love, being—these are the things that make life worth living.

Lucas climbing a pole on top of the Nexus nightclub

Super fun Genesha art car that passed us by one day

A dust-weary Asher, me on the afternoon of the burn, and our dashing Agent Daddy

Lucas fearlessly walking a tightrope about 10 feet off the ground

This tuna art car drove by during one of our family bike outings

Asher’s very first kite-flying experience; hold on tight!

My boys playing boccie ball

Decorating our parasols like jellyfish; Lucas jumping on a trampoline; Asher dancing with the Salmon of Knowledge

Lucas and Asher also got to see, and we ourselves were reminded, that challenges are worth facing because the rewards are often great. Braving our fears or walking out into the unknown is our task, our surest course to learning who we are and what’s important to us. By purposefully venturing into a desert of nothingness, we fill it with our hopes and dreams and remake ourselves. I watched both of my children, in their own individual ways and according to their ages, encounter their limitations and push past them, gaining confidence and respect along the way.

It was a different kind of Burning Man for me and Ian. Having our kids along was a ton of work and we spent much (most?) of our time making sure that their needs were being met. Keeping two sensitive children safe and happy, hydrated and fed, rested and slathered with sunblock in the desert is pretty much a constant effort. Ian worked ceaselessly to take care of all of us. There was a lot less aimless wandering just to see what there was to see. There were moments I felt despair because I thought I was missing all the fun, but mostly I let that fleeting feeling wash over me and away, and we managed to relax into a new kind of Burning Man experience. We got more sleep this year on the playa than ever before, thanks to the boys’ tuckering out and needing to be home and in bed fairly early. We ate like kings, with lots of fresh produce and barbecued tri-tip dinners. We spent more time near and in camp, which meant time together as a family and with our peeps. We let Burning Man come to us much of the time, and the sweetest folks wandered into our communal shade and spent time with us. Our camp gave out water, drinks, food, advice when it was asked for, a place by the fire, and generally enjoyed that special/sacred hospitality relationship. To all the desert beauties that we met, thank you! You’re my little potato.

Lucas is VERY happy to have seen the Man burn this time! Here he is after the burn on Saturday night. I’ve never been in such a whiteout before! For long moments the Burning Man disappeared from view completely, then eerily reappeared through the waves of flying powder.

The truth is we saw a teensy-tiny slice of Burning Man, maybe 1 percent of what was out there. However, what we saw was wonderful. We are tired and a little sad to have to resume normal life now that we are home again. We are loving this breathtaking miracle called running water. My thoughts are dreamy and I feel like I need a rest after my vacation. I feel a creative pulsing in my veins.

All in all, Best Family Burn Ever.

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.

Lucas is pretty sure that these chickens are meant to be lap chickens—at least Midnight.

Avalanche and Snowdrift graze in the backyard. The hens are enjoying morning and evening ranging hours. Alas, they are displacing the mulch in my flowerbeds a lot. I’m wondering if I could coax them to the school field two doors down and back again (but I would be afraid of off-leash dogs).

Lucas’s garden is about to overwhelm us with juicy red tomatoes. Just this week they are turning red.

A magical moment at Sacramento Waldorf School just before the summer camp play began. The oak tree at the Oak Stage is magnificent.

A backyard visitor graciously paused for my photo. I’m pretty stoked about this shot.

Evening picnics on the lawn are fun. There’s a bit of sandwich-eating, a bit of snuggling, a bit of wrestling, a bit of coaxing the hens to eat out of our hands, and …

… a good bit of airplane rides with Daddy.

This summer I’ve worked on another bunch of clam diggers for Asher, more because I need the sewing practice than he needs the pants.  I’m now working on the fifth pair, every once in a blue moon. If I had a solid free hour, I’d finish them. Here are two pairs that are done. I made a golden pair with yellow stars, too. Too bad “lellow” isn’t his favorite color anymore.

We match colorful pants/clam diggers/shorts with tees like these to make the perfect play clothes for little boys. But aren’t all clothes play clothes when you’re little?

These are not the best photos, as I took most of them with my phone, but maybe they give just a little sample of what my lucky, lucky boy gets to do during the day at the Sacramento Waldorf School’s summer camp.

Aren’t these banners lovely? I have a deep love of flags, so these really hit the spot for me! They are paper towels painted with watercolors and stapled onto a string. Also, underneath the trees hang dozens of tissue-paper butterflies, swaying in the breeze.

This is the tepee Lucas made at camp. The first session had a Native American theme, and the kids made bows and arrows, these small tepees, leather bracelets and charms, painted rocks, and sewed headbands decorated with beads.

They also hike, play in the water, eat nachos and other yummy snacks, craft with pony beads and puff balls, and do gymnastics. Lucas says he has even been on a trapeze! At the end of this week, they are putting on a play.

This is the middle of the fourth week and Lucas gets to do two more weeks of this great stuff and more. Some of his best buddies are in camp with him, so he is comfortable, happy, having a great time, and on his own turf. He is also 8 years old now, and generally more comfortable and calm about pretty much everything.

Unlike past summers, when Lucas was bounced around to (too many) different (and sometimes cheaper) camps and had to adjust frequently to new places, teachers, kids, schedules, and expectations, this summer is easy like … well, like summer should be. We live and learn. I am so very glad he is happy to go off on each day’s adventures!

So, Friday again. There’s always such gorgeous POTENTIAL in Fridays, such HOPE, so many dreams and plans. How will we fill our weekend? What weekend joys will fill and fulfill us over the next few days? Around here, we call weekends “Family Days.” I know we have family days every day, for we are never really far from one another. But “Family Days” is the name that means something to my children, and it helps us grown-ups remember that these two days are important, no matter what we end up doing (even if it’s just chores and hanging out). Family Days are special. Daddy is home with us all day. There’s less routine (like little boys waking up even earlier than usual out of excitement) and more resting. A bit more reading. More breathing out.

It’s funny, the expectations I carry. I want my Family Days to be idyllic and restful, peaceful and restorative after a hard/busy week of bouncing to and fro between kid activities and work. I also want Family Days to be packed with exciting projects and fun, tons of friends and laughter, special foods and adventures away from home—all to fill up our hearts, minds, and eyes.

Oh Friday, where will you take us?

Lots of weekends look a lot like work days for me. Today I’m imagining that apart from all that dreamy fun, adventure, social time, and rest we’ll have this weekend, I’ll also get gobs and gobs of freelance work done. Yes, this is where that time machine comes in. I’m awaiting its delivery. Should be any day now. I have my receipt around here somewhere …

On deck for this weekend:
• Getting our hens!
• Finishing coop/chicken run chores (yikes!)
• Getting some straw and feed and chicken sundries
• Tons of editing work for me
• Dinner with friends
• Some swimming, hopefully—it’s damn hot
• Grocery shopping
• Making snacks and popsicles

This morning, my kiddos were READY for Family Days. Asher whined, “It’s NOT a school day. It’s a Family Day! We play together today.” I know how he feels. Although he rallied and adjusted his attitude to going to preschool, he gave me a set of assignments for today: “Spray your plants. Work on your computer. Build with blocks on our zoo. Then when I come home, I’ll say ‘Good job, Mom! You did good work today!’”

“Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world.”   —Ada Louise Huxtable

Makeshift leaf bandage, fashioned by Lucas to heal his little brother’s hurt knee

Pumpkin vines and roses love hot, hot days

Morning glory heart-shaped leaves are as precious as the flowers

A surprise magnolia blossom on my tulip tree

Asher’s interpretive dance with Mardi Gras beads and stick

Blueberries for pie!

My mama, who knits (generously and prolifically) very practical and beautiful things like sweaters, socks, baby blankets, and scarves, asked me, “So, what’s with all the knitted animals?” My answer is, “Because they’re small and cute and fast, and I can justify making them because I have kids (even though my kids don’t play with them). Moreover, I’m practicing simple/basic knitting skills like increasing and decreasing, following a pattern, and counting. Prerequisite skills for knitting anything that might be worn by someone.

In the case of this pony, the pattern (from Toymaking with Children by Freya Jaffke) was just slightly different from the donkey I knitted in June, so I was curious about that. I had the rainbow wool yarn from a felting project I did a couple of years ago. So, why not? Haven’t you always wanted a rainbow pony? I have!

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.