I’ve decided to do a challenge that I’ve just made up for myself. I’m going to eat 100 salads this summer (it’s got a nice ring to it: #100saladsummer). I don’t diet very well. I am totally committed one moment and then, as soon as I’m hungry, my commitment usually vanishes. So usually I don’t diet. Which is a fine trend that I don’t really care to try to break. And I don’t have time to research the latest food thing. But I started thinking it would be better to eat fewer burritos (my weakness) and more salads. So. This.
These are my rules for myself:
1. They are meal salads, which means they can have meat or other protein or fat or dairy or carbs like croutons or quinoa, but they must be mostly vegetables.
It’s a celebration around here. There was a big class party for the sixth grade. The first graders had a swim party yesterday. They are done for the year, and are dreaming of lazy days of pure fun. In honor of this special day, the last day of school, I present this evocative poem by Whittier.
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan!
With thy turned-up pantaloons,
And thy merry whistled tunes;
With thy red lip, redder still
Kissed by strawberries on the hill;
With the sunshine on thy face,
Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace;
From my heart I give thee joy,—
I was once a barefoot boy!
Prince thou art,—the grown-up man
Only is republican.
Let the million-dollared ride!
Barefoot, trudging at his side,
Thou hast more than he can buy
In the reach of ear and eye,—
Outward sunshine, inward joy:
Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
Oh for boyhood’s painless play,
Sleep that wakes in laughing day,
Health that mocks the doctor’s rules,
Knowledge never learned of schools,
Of the wild bee’s morning chase,
Of the wild-flower’s time and place,
Flight of fowl and habitude
Of the tenants of the wood;
How the tortoise bears his shell,
How the woodchuck digs his cell,
And the ground-mole sinks his well;
How the robin feeds her young,
How the oriole’s nest is hung;
Where the whitest lilies blow,
Where the freshest berries grow,
Where the ground-nut trails its vine,
Where the wood-grape’s clusters shine;
Of the black wasp’s cunning way,
Mason of his walls of clay,
And the architectural plans
Of gray hornet artisans!
For, eschewing books and tasks,
Nature answers all he asks;
Hand in hand with her he walks,
Face to face with her he talks,
Part and parcel of her joy,—
Blessings on the barefoot boy!
Oh for boyhood’s time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw,
Me, their master, waited for.
I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight
Through the day and through the night,
Whispering at the garden wall,
Talked with me from fall to fall;
Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond,
Mine the walnut slopes beyond,
Mine, on bending orchard trees,
Apples of Hesperides!
Still as my horizon grew,
Larger grew my riches too;
All the world I saw or knew
Seemed a complex Chinese toy,
Fashioned for a barefoot boy!
Oh for festal dainties spread,
Like my bowl of milk and bread;
Pewter spoon and bowl of wood,
On the door-stone, gray and rude!
O’er me, like a regal tent,
Cloudy-ribbed, the sunset bent,
Purple-curtained, fringed with gold,
Looped in many a wind-swung fold;
While for music came the play
Of the pied frogs’ orchestra;
And, to light the noisy choir,
Lit the fly his lamp of fire.
I was monarch: pomp and joy
Waited on the barefoot boy!
Cheerily, then, my little man,
Live and laugh, as boyhood can!
Though the flinty slopes be hard,
Stubble-speared the new-mown sward,
Every morn shall lead thee through
Fresh baptisms of the dew;
Every evening from thy feet
Shall the cool wind kiss the heat:
All too soon these feet must hide
In the prison cells of pride,
Lose the freedom of the sod,
Like a colt’s for work be shod,
Made to tread the mills of toil,
Up and down in ceaseless moil:
Happy if their track be found
Never on forbidden ground;
Happy if they sink not in
Quick and treacherous sands of sin.
Ah! that thou couldst know thy joy,
Ere it passes, barefoot boy!
Yesterday we had a rare and glorious opportunity to go out with Kathy and Nicole on Kathy’s pontoon boat on Folsom Lake. We had to squeeze it in between caring for other kids overnight and my work’s hot-and-heavy deadlines. We were on the water for two blissful hours. This was Asher’s first time on a boat and the law is that kids under 12 have to wear life vests. We called the vests “Boat Armor”; it seemed to help illustrate their purpose. They are a little uncomfortable. Swimming in one was a new experience too!
Maybe this is just me, but I doubt it: Sometimes you’re in a rut, and your thoughts and feelings get stuck in the same looping track. It can feel really hopeless, going around in circles. Then you say yes to something completely out of the ordinary—just one little yes. It busts open the track and you can zoom out and on your way.
I feel like this experience was just that for me. I said yes to this little opportunity, despite the reasons to say no, and we what we got out of it was special and joyful.
I am trying to hold on to this.
Here are my handsome devils. I suppose, they really are growing up—a little more every day.
Folsom Lake is quite low right now. It’s mid-August and the surrounding hills are yellow and brown; the oaks look twisted and dark. Everything everywhere looks hot.
Except for this beautiful water. (Oh that smile!)
And this is how our perfect outing ended, with Captain Lucas piloting us back to the boat launch at 2 p.m. so that we could get back to the real world and our real responsibilities. (Oh, it was so hard to leave!) This was his first opportunity to drive and Kathy said he did great! As I was lying in the sun on the back deck, relaxing with my shades on and my legs gripping my little guy like seatbelts, I didn’t watch this happen. I just closed my eyes and trusted.
Because sometimes boys need their mamas not to watch; to say yes and just trust.
Breakfast on summer days around here is pretty relaxed. I don’t mind sipping my coffee and letting my kids get hungry enough to help themselves to some food. I think that I should not have to prepare every meal for them, now that they are competent enough to do some things for themselves. Sometimes our breakfast is home raised eggs from our hens; sometimes it’s cereal or oatmeal; sometimes it’s leftover pizza or a quesadilla. Lucas often prepares food for his brother or for all of us. This morning we all four ate different foods.
This is what Asher requested: Apple Flower Breakfast. This time I made it for him, but I think he can do it next time. Smear a honey-flavored rice cake with peanut butter and arrange apple slices to make a flower. The kid’s got style. (By the way, this makes a wonderful lunchbox meal, too.)
Ian participated in his third Tough Mudder last weekend on July 13th at Northstar at Tahoe. (He’s been diving into a number of really challenging things lately.) He was in great shape for it and he went through the course really quickly.
It turns out that you really should read the whole packet about boring stuff like parking. We had to park far from Northstar and take a bus in; the trip took 45 minutes and Ian was late for registration and his start time. But, it really doesn’t matter all that much. I waited up the hill a bit, listened to the pep talk (“I do not whine! KIDS whine! … This is a challenge, not a race.”) and the national anthem, and watched the start of the race as the Mudders charged uphill to begin the 10 mile course.
Then I found the lodge, an electrical outlet, and sat with my laptop and worked. I bought a sandwich and a beer. I’ve got loads of terrific pictures from past Tough Mudders, but I don’t really know what to do with them, and so this time I opted not to stand in the sun taking pics of athletes I don’t know—even if they are incredibly beautiful. Besides, I was under a deadline.
Eventually, when I figured Ian might be nearly done, I walked out and watched at the earliest place I was likely to spot him. While I was watching for him, he came up behind me, beer in hand and headband already on. I completely missed seeing him do the final three obstacles, which were the only ones I was even likely to get to see him do. Anyway, he finished in 3 hours and 18 minutes! Far faster than I had guessed.
And then he enjoyed a really good burger and a beer. And we found we had some extra time…
So we rode the chair lift up to see a couple of obstacles on the course, Electric Eel and a wall obstacle that I’ve never seen before. I have to say, it’s kind of fun watching people crawl through mud and cuss when they get shocked.
We were on top of the world on that mountain, with brilliant blue Lake Tahoe in the distance and fabulous views in all directions.
A great day, to be sure. Many thanks to the Bennetts for taking care of our boys while we were gone all day.
We make a lot of smoothies around here. During the school year they often serve as healthy, refreshing after-school snacks. I discovered a couple of years ago that a smoothie after school helped smooth out the transition from school time/behavior to home time/behavior. After-School Smoothies of Love (TM) also keep me from being (unjustly) perceived as the Bad Guy. So it’s a habit I embraced fully.
In summertime, smoothies often serve as breakfast. We don’t serve the kids eggs every morning in the summertime, though that’s generally the rule during the school year. A lighter breakfast is OK in summer because they are here and able to snack when they need to.
I’ve created a new smoothie recipe and thought I’d share it.
2-3 handfuls frozen mixed berries
1 banana
1 mango
1 to 1.5 c orange juice
1-inch thick slick of cabbage from whole cabbage head
Optional: Whey protein powder
Purée until smooth.
The cabbage adds a tangy quality that most berry smoothies don’t have. It also adds beta-carotene, vitamin C, and heaps of fiber. Several studies indicate that indole-3-carbinol in cabbage boosts DNA repair in cells and appears to block the growth of cancer cells.
I am the Sun— And I bear with my might The earth by day, the earth by night. I hold her fast, and my gifts bestow To everything on her, so that it may grow: Man and stone, flower and bee, All receive their light from me. Open thy heart, dear child, to me, That we together one light may be.
—Ch. Morgenstern
King Sun he climbs the summer sky Ascending ever higher. He mounts his gay midsummer throne, All made of golden fire.
His flowing mantle, flowing free, His shining gifts he showers All golden on the earth and sea, On men and beasts and flowers.
—J. Aulie
Two poems for this day, this beautiful awe-inspiring day that I have come to appreciate more and more. Somehow, for me this day is full of magic and hope and possibility.
The solstice is the peak moment of the year, the explosion of light and growth. It is the tippy-top of the year’s roller coaster’s path. On the summer solstice we feel an expansion of spirit, the exhalation of breath, and precious moments of busy, joyful living that somehow include relaxation and fun as its top priorities. It doesn’t even seem to matter how much work there is to do, or whether we sit in a cubicle or attend summer classes or dig ditches—this sky-splitting, star-bursting longest day has a kind of dreamy half-remembering quality, a laziness, a whisper that seems to say, “Take heed! The moment is NOW. Don’t miss it! Revel!”
And somehow, people seem to hear it. No other time of year feels this way. Midsummer is special. Spend it however you will, but LIVE IT.
This year, I am realizing a longtime dream of gathering many of my beloved friends in the woods this weekend. I’m hoping for a solstice bonfire and feast to make the gods proud. We will splash and play and get our feet dirty.
And because I feel if there’s ever an instant when magic is real and wishes come true, it is on Midsummer night. And so, here is my wish:
May we grow and flourish, may our roots dig deep and may our minds reach for the illuminating sun.
May we expand our consciousness to include others in our sphere of concern—and not just our loved ones, but also the strangers we interact with every day and all those people on the other side of the world whom we will never meet.
May we learn to see beauty everywhere, for it is there if only we look. Even struggles and tragedy have a kind of beauty.
May we seek to alleviate the suffering of all beings, even ourselves.
May we strive, even though we sometimes fail, and may we fail big and fast to maximize our learning and increase our compassion.
May we hold to our values, but never allow our ideas to petrify.
May we appreciate all that we are with every inhalation, and all that we have with every exhalation.
May we play, and laugh, and hug, and kiss, and dance, and sing—because for what other purpose are we here?
May we love with all our hearts until our flesh becomes one with the earth.
Blessed be.
What better way to kick off summer than to take a vacation? The boys and I drove up to South Lake Tahoe to spend a few days in the woods. Having some time with just the boys was fun, just as I’d hoped. It was special, since we weren’t at home like normal. Ian was able to join us a couple of days later.
I took some work with me—a project that didn’t finish up in time for me to be free and clear of it. Fortunately there’s a Starbucks where I could get my work emails, and download and upload files. Even better, my dear ol’ dad called the next-door neighbor and he generously gave me his wifi network password. It was a bit hoopty, but well worth it. I went out on the deck, pointed my computer at the neighbor’s home, and worked standing with the computer perched on the balcony railing (standing desk?) or sitting at a little iron bistro table. It was totally brilliant and I’m so grateful for this solution; my days with my boys would have been disrupted much more if we had had to spend hours and hours at Starbucks.
We brought the boys’ bows and arrows up with us, and every day we set up targets and practiced shooting. They both LOVE archery. And shooting arrows in an alpine meadow filled with blooming wildflowers and pines and aspens all around doesn’t suck, I tell ya. I’m proud of the boys because they seem really interested in practicing and getting better at archery. It’s a hobby that is well-fueled by their imagination, of course. Fantasy characters like elves and dwarves use bows, and that’s connection and motivation enough!
Naturally we spent some time throwing stones into the creek.
See the caterpillar?
I was a bit nervous taking the kids out of town on my own, but this is my comfortable home away from home and there’s plenty to do near the “cabin.” I have many gorgeous memories of rambling up and down the creeks with my brother and sometimes my cousins. I remember searching for swimming holes, places to fish, and places to dam the water with logs or stones. I remember watching the minnows and dragonflies, of staying out too long and getting sunburned and so, so tired from our adventures. I remember getting lost in the woods and having to find my way back to the house, where my grandmother and grandaunt waited to scold us. Summertime in the Tahoe woods: I wanted to give my boys a taste of this. And I hope to come back and do it again and again.
We asked a local and found an amazing beach that allows dogs and we spent two glorious afternoons there, enjoying the beautiful lake and sky, and meeting plenty of doggie playmates for Solstice. Our sweet dog gets along pretty well with almost all dogs, and that’s a relief.
One animal was so totally wolflike that we were mesmerized by the way she moved. She was lean and furtive, and she wore a purple bandana around her neck; its purpose was clearly to communicate “I am not a wolf. I am a dog and I have people who love me.”
I’m continually surprised by what I don’t know about this beautiful area. We found the Tallac historic village (full of amazing rich people homes from the early 1900s). I had no idea it was there.
We stopped off on the way home at Wrights Lake for a picnic and a swim. This lake is just gorgeous and totally peaceful. Very few people were there and no watercraft with motors are allowed on the lake, so there was nothing to break the serenity of the place—except our own whooping and hollering …
… and Calvin-like dancing.
I took tons of photos for painting reference.
The only problem with this gorgeous campground and lake is that the mosquitoes are prolific and hungry.
Honestly, I can’t think of a nicer way to start the boys’ summer vacation.
I hope you too are enjoying long, lazy days in nature.
Herbs harvested at Midsummer and during the Feast of Saint John (June 24, 2013) are said to be especially magical. Certain herbs, such as mugwort, laurel, sage, or marigold petals, are believed to give prophetic dreams if placed under a pillow at night! Will it work, do you think? Wouldn’t it be fun to find out?
It’s best to use dried herbs for your dream pillow. You’ll need two squares of muslin, two squares of yellow cotton fabric (about 5” by 5”), sewing machine, needle and thread, dried herbs, and a hot iron.
Cut your muslin squares to be about ½ inch smaller than your yellow squares. Sew around the muslin squares, leaving a 2 inch gap. Cut the corners off, but don’t cut into the stitching (this makes the pillow easier to turn inside out). Now turn your pillow inside out and iron it flat. Spoon in your dried herbs. Use a needle and thread to stitch up the hole. Now make the yellow pillow case. Put your “right” or pretty sides together. Sew around the three sides and the corners of the fourth side using a ¼ inch seam. Cut off the inside-out corners as before. Turn the pillow right side out. Use a pencil to make the corners look nice. Iron the yellow pillow case flat. Insert the inner muslin pillow into the yellow case. Turn in ¼ inch seam at the opening and iron it. Now sew up the fourth side, using a top stitch.
Now place your herbal dream pillow under your head before bedtime. Perhaps you’ll dream of the future! Or perhaps you’ll have amazing, fanciful dream that you can write down in a dream journal or draw a picture of in the morning.
For more fun midsummer crafts, herb lore, Waldorf verses, handwork, and ways to celebrate Midsummer and St. John’s Day, please check out the Midsummer Festival E-Book by yours truly, Sara Wilson of Love in the Suburbs, and the fabulously talented Eileen Straiton of Little Acorn Learning. Click the link or the cover photo above to go directly to the page to find out more.
Summertime is here! I often wonder how in the world I’m going to fill 13 consecutive weeks of “summer vacation,” and so I tend to start planning early. I’d like to offer up the Midsummer Festival E-Book as a way of filling summertime with festivities and delightful Waldorf-inspired crafts, songs, poems, and more. My coauthor, Eileen Straiton, and warmly I invite you to check out our e-book, and please tell a friend!
This wonderful Midsummer Festival E-Book, our labor of love, will bring the magic of summer into your home and help you keep celebrating throughout the season! It is packed full of Waldorf songs, stories, verses, crafting tutorials and much more to help you celebrate Midsummer and the Summer Solstice with the children in your home, classroom, or childcare environment.
Read Stories and Fairy Tales Filled with Sunshine to the Children
Enjoy Verses, Songs, Poems and Fingerplays that Celebrate the Coming of Summer
Learn about the History, Background and Symbolism of the Summer Solstice
Get Ideas for How to Create Your Own Meaning of this Special Festival
Enjoy a Solstice Feast
Play Solstice Games
Make a Midsummer Bonfire
Create Simple Beeswax Suns with the Children
Make a Solstice Wreath for the Birds
Design Midsummer String Art Sunbursts
Read a Story of The Sun Child and Create a Sun Child Necklace
Craft a Shiny Garden Suncatcher
Use a Rock Garden Sundial to Tell Time in Your Garden
Make a Catch the Sun Throw Toy for Your Child
Create a Paper Solstice Sun
Read How to Create Daytime and Nightime Midsummer Magic
Hang Summer Solstice Flags Indoors or Outdoors this Season
Plant a Midsummer Indoor Herb Garden
Craft a Sun Mosaic Birdbath
Make a Sunshine Fairy out of Wool Roving and Felt
Sew and Stuff Herbal Dream Pillows for St. John’s Eve
Thanks for visiting! I’m Sara, editor and writer, wife to Ian, and mother of two precious boys. I am living each day to the fullest and with as much grace, creativity, and patience as I can muster. This is where I write about living, loving, and engaging fully in family life and the world around me. I let my hair down here. I learn new skills here. I strive to be a better human being here. And I tell the truth.
Our children attend Waldorf school and we are enriching our home and family life with plenty of Waldorf-inspired festivals, crafts, and stories.
