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

Yes, this is how we began the second week of Advent last Sunday. We drove up to Apple Hill to a Christmas tree farm and roamed about for a while. It had been several years of not enough time or good weather to do this family tradition, so we felt it was time.

The boys enjoyed combing the hillside, and of course, had to go to the very tippy top of the mountain. Asher felt like he was in the woods. That is really an unbeatable feeling when you’re a kid, to feel way out away from civilization and wander among the trees. Most of these trees were pretty young, but it worked fine for little Asher.

When we finally found the perfect tree, Lucas did the cutting.

I snapped this photo because I just couldn’t get over how blue this silver fir tree was.

I conned them into posing for pictures, but only got the super silly kind. That’s OK, though. I think I love those the best. I love to see them having fun.

We stopped at Boa Vista Orchards for a lunch of burgers and some produce shopping. We bought the juiciest Asian pears ever. We picked up an apple blueberry pie to take home, too. Daddy felt that a pie baking in the oven would be the perfect compliment to tree decorating. I think he was right.

We played Christmas lounge music and covered the little tree with shiny ornaments, red ornaments, and stars. There are lots of ornaments left over this year because this Christmas tree is smaller than usual. I’m thinking up other ways to use them. (I admit I really adore ornaments.)

We think it’s lovely.

Kind old man Saint Nicholas, dear,
Come into our house this year.
Here’s some straw and here’s some hay
For your little donkey gray.

Pray put something into my shoe;
I’ve been good the whole year through.
Kind old man Saint Nicholas dear,
Come into our house this year.

I’m feeling so grateful for all the amazing, creative support we have received over the years and continue to receive from our Waldorf school, especially with regard to festivals. Today, when I picked him up from school, my 4.5-year-old son Asher was clutching a small handful of hay (tied neatly with a piece of yarn) to give to Saint Nicholas’s donkey. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything cuter than my little guy, manfully carrying his lunch box and water bottle at the end of a long day, with this little bit of hay in his fist.

I’m actually (blissfully) ready for Saint Nicholas’s Day this year. This is not always the case, I assure you! In years past, Nicholas has come to our house on December 7. But this year I’ve got goodies for my dovies’ shoes all ready. I also have this handsome Saint Nicholas that I made last year. Today I put out a pretty display and asked Asher who it was. “Saint Nicholas!” he said with that special sophistication that only a younger sibling can have.

The other reason I’m feeling gratful—at the moment—is because I just spent a half hour going through two giant binders full of Waldorf materials that I’ve been given and gathered over the last eight years to pull out more Advent poems, Saint Nicholas stories, Santa Lucia recipes and more. These festivals have enriched my children’s lives—and mine—so much, even though they mean extra work and extra mindfulness. I have a deep love for any holiday that includes magic that happens in the dark of night, to be revealed only by the light of the dawn—to the delight of my whole family. In our home, many holidays involve this kind of nighttime miracle.

And so, we will see what happens tomorrow morning, after the shoes have been polished and placed neatly by the front door. We’ll leave out our carrot and that sweet clutch of hay for Saint Nicholas’s donkey in the hopes that they will visit us in the night and decide that we’ve been good—good enough, perhaps, for a treat or two.

Day 1: There are ten new hearts beating in my home. Welcome, little ones!

Day 2: My goodness they are noisy! They really do say “peep, peep.” They are little balls of fluff. So awesome and adorable! They fall asleep in our hands when we hold them.

Day 3: Our boys got to show their babies to some friends. They are doing great! The peeps sleep often, but wake so easily. They are pecking at each other’s eyes and beaks, but they don’t seem to be causing any harm.

Day 4: Our baby peeps are practicing their chicken behaviors. Today they are scratching and pecking in their litter and they are only about five days old. They also have rapidly growing wing feathers!

Day 4: The little ones nap a lot during the day. But now it’s evening and they are peeping up a storm! Pipe down, baby chickens! It’s sleeping time.

We have come to call this one Chestnut; she is a fuzzy Ameraucana. Eventually, she will lay green or blue eggs.

Day 5: Five days into raising baby chicks, we still have all ten. (Phew!) They are growing so fast and they all have beautiful small wing feathers now! They didn’t have these when we first go them last Thursday, February 17. And for the record, cleaning baby chicken butts ranks right up there among the weirdest things I’ve ever done. It must be done or they can die from “pasting up.” Yeah, it’s just as icky as it sounds.

Day 6: The hot topic of conversation on the Tuesday morning of a week off school is what to name our ten baby chicks. We can finally tell the two from each breed apart, except for the two yellow Buff Orpingtons, whom I think of as “the Twins.” Under consideration are the following names: Chestnut, Dawn. Lightning, Moonlight, Sunshine, Buttercup, Storm, Thunder, Summer, and Firefly. These names would go so nicely with our hens Sunrise, Fireball, Snowdrift, Avalanche, and Midnight, don’t ya think?

Day 6: Wowza! One chick, Dawn (above), was found this evening perched on the top edge of the brooder box! It’s time to rig up that top to keep them inside. A crocheted blanket clipped onto the box with binder clips will do nicely for now.

Lightning, a Light Brahma

Sunshine and Buttercup, the two Buff Orpingtons; we may never be able to tell these two apart!

Day 7: Now I see tail feathers coming in!

Day 9: The chicks are now so active in their plastic tote brooder box that their watering device is constantly getting clogged with the littler they scratch up. I’ve gotten up at 3 a.m. the last two nights to clean it out so they have access to drinking water. The heat lamp is very hot and they drink a lot! Better litter must be purchased.

Day 9: They fly.

Day 11: “Sara, the chicks are now having [unassisted] out-of-box experiences,” Ian reported. Moonlight flew up and out of the box, and then couldn’t figure out where she was or where everybody went. Ian rigged up a chicken wire box top to keep them inside.

Day 12: All of the babies now have fancy epaulets on their shoulders, like feathered generals.

Day 13: My goodness the chicks are active now—and fast! They are also easily about twice their original, just-hatched size. Firefly, a Welsummer, is still littlest. The two Welsummers have stripes down their backs like chipmunks.

Last weekend we got to spend a beautiful day at our local Patriot Park with friends. It’s so local, we were able to walk there from our home. This park was an undeveloped field known as “Future Park” for the better part of 20 years. It’s pretty awesome now, although it was wonderful as a wild place, too.

The kiddos had a blast playing. Lucas showed us how he can do the monkey bars now! He has tried for so many years and now he can do it! Very exciting.

I got to take photos of my darlings under the almond trees, which I had been eyeing for a few days.

We got to clown about. Our darling Headra was visiting us!

We took some portraits of the delightful H kids …

and some of my handsome guys.

Lucas climbed a tree.

Asher tagged along after R, who is very sweet to him. The sky was very dramatic after the rainstorm of the night before. It felt so nice to be outdoors and surrounded by the scent of almond blossoms.

The walk home felt a little long for the kiddos, but the hot chocolate at the end proved to be a sufficient reward.

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.

Early spring skies can be so dramatic, especially after a rain. Sometimes I forget to look up. When I remember to do so, I’m always richly rewarded.

One day last weekend, after a heavy rainstorm, we walked to a local park with some friends. I had to visit the almond trees there. It was one of those days when the sun peeked out from behind heavy gray and cotton white clouds.

I know it is still winter, technically, and huge swaths of the country are still covered in mountains of snow, but around here, we’re having some lovely, sunny days and trees everywhere are leafing out and blossoming.

Almond flowers smell divine, and they litter the ground in white petal snow.

It may be the suburbs, but there is beauty everywhere. It’s my mission to seek it out. To notice. To let it fill me up and sustain me.

Across the street from my home, my neighbor has one of the largest magnolia trees (also called tulip trees) I’ve ever seen. I love it. When it blooms in February, it is spectacular and I wait eagerly for it  all winter. The flowers are large, almost the size of my hand, and the tree is easily 35 feet tall. Although it’s not a unique characteristic of this tree, it still never ceases to amaze me that the magnolia’s giant flowers spring from completely bare branches. It’s as if the spirit of the tree gets so excited for the coming spring, it cannot even wait for its pale green leaves to form before bursting out in blooms. I will watch it become engulfed in pink, and hope the rains hold off a little while to give it time to flower.

Some parts of my home make me feel so happy and warm. My books are my companions and my promises to myself. You might say, they are no small part of my retirement plan.

Colors lift me up; they fulfill some longing in my heart.

Some corners inspire me to be artistic. I can thank my two pregnancies for spurring me to paint my two wall murals.

Some corners feature treasured gifts that fit perfectly.

Some corners are ordinary, functional, and require frequent scrubbing.

Some are exactly opposite.

Many corners are cluttered with the stuff of our lives—mostly drawings, laundry, toys, and library books—oh, and dirt from outside, which arrives hourly on the tides of boys going out and coming in.

Sometime I have to look up to find some peaceful place to rest my eyes, some little spot that’s not in need of tidying.

Things gather you know, it’s natural. Every once in a while, I have to move it all aside, maybe dust a bit (but not too much), and replace a few nostalgic items just so, exactly how they need to be, for now.

There you have it: home.

Our babies are here! We picked out ten wee chicks at the feed store on Thursday and it was a thrill. We got two chicks each of five different breeds in the hopes that this will help us to know them all as individuals even when they are grown.

Lucas picked them all out. They are sweet little handfuls of fluff.

They are completely “a-DOH-able,” as Asher says. Fuzzy and peepy and sleepy and ever so young! Just two or three days old now. For the next few weeks they will be living in our makeshift “brooder box” in my office, the warmest room in the house. We have learned that they need to be kept warm — really warm. You and I would call it hot. We have had to make adjustments of our plans and setup to accommodate this new info. (I expect to say that a lot during this chick-raising adventure, since this is our first time!) As they grow, they will become more comfortable with slightly lower temps. Nevertheless, we are all enchanted.

More later. I think I’ll go hold one and watch her fall asleep in my hands.

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 has been very busy for the last week and a half working on his major project for third grade. In the Waldorf schools, third graders study lots of practical things like cooking, measuring, building, and making clothing. They also study shelters—the various types of homes people made or make for themselves in different parts of the world throughout history. The students have to choose a people with a particular type of shelter, build a diorama of their shelter, and write a report about it.

This the first big homework project, and it synthesizes what the students are learning in school with all kinds of other awesome qualities of third graders: their practicality, their extensive experience of modeling, their creative thinking, and their love of measuring, using tools, and building. It also calls into use their developing writing skills, their recent study of grammar and parts of speech, their artistic ability, their awakening to the real world around them and awareness of others, and their blossoming love of realism.

Lucas wondered if he could make a house boat for his shelter project—after all, some people live on house boats. After some research, he and Ian hit upon a people indigenous to the Andaman Sea called the Moken, and we checked in with Lucas’s teacher to get her okay to proceed.

The Moken live on their handcrafted boats, called kabang, most of the year, and travel around the islands off the coast of Thailand. During the monsoon season, they live on land, but that’s only about three months of the year. They fish and trade fish for rice. Their kabang keels are dug-out logs that are passed down from father to son. “It can take a family four months to build a kabang. The traditional boats have sails and oars, but the new boats run on diesel engines” (from Lucas’s report).

Lucas used clay to make his kabang keel. Bamboo skewers were used as struts on which to weave the boat’s gunwales, which are traditionally made from zalacca wood. Lucas made his from garden twigs. He built the shelter on the deck of the kabang and thatched it with more twigs.

Lucas modeled two Moken people out of beeswax. (Whole families live on these kabang, and the boats travel in groups of six or more.)

Then Lucas wove a sail from raffia. The Moken use pandanus leaves to fashion their sails.

Here is the finished kabang shelter. Mr. Moken is standing in the sea, fishing with a spear. The kabang flies the Thai flag. The Moken people spend much of their time in the sea diving for shellfish, and studies show they’ve developed better underwater eyesight. “The sad thing is that there’s only about 1,000 Moken living on the sea today because the Burmese and Thai governments are trying to get them on land.”

“I want to go there and help them out. I also want to build a kabang with a Moken,” Lucas concluded.

This was a tough project, but one that was very rewarding, I think. Making something with his hands helped Lucas engage with the material, much more so than simply writing a report would have done.  It was also great to see Lucas work so hard over so many days, with his dad’s careful support and supervision.

Lucas and his classmates will also present their shelters to their class and talk about them. They will answer questions from the teacher and classmates as well. I’m proud of all of these kids for accomplishing something that took two weeks or so to make; perseverance is an important trait to develop.