January Ordering: Wall Trees

Sentimentality is no stranger to our house.  Lately, strong attachments have resulted in "tree art."

First, we recently had one of our trees trimmed, and there was so much distress over the trimmings that each child chose a branch for their room.  We suspended one in Clara and June's room and plan to add birds and squirrels.  (That is, if it doesn't first get thrown down in a fury after poking out Jeff's eye for the 100th time.)

Second, the kids were sentimental about Christmas package packing paper.  A brown stream circled around the floor for a while, and made a nice hiking trail or race car track or river.  Now, it hangs on the wall in the form of a tree.  We have great plans to decorate it according to the season all year.  However, I question if that tape will make it a week.  Then, we'll likely have a tree dangling for months before it gets the proper attention.  (Just like the one in the front yard hit by a storm that everyone insists still has some climbing value.)

Anyway, it's hard not to love trees, any shape or form.

January Ordering: Looking Up

I have been inspired lately to move clutter from our floor onto our walls.  There is so much opportunity.

I put up five new bulletin boards today, and they are stuff magnets.  I also hung two simple wires up in Clara and June's rooms and suddenly, all the art on the floor is now up in clear view.  It is as if I have one of those leaf blowers in reverse - little paper suckers, right here on our walls.

In addition to these gems, I also hung a mobile of hearts, two mirrors, five stars, a map, and a tree... (More on that one to follow.)  We are truly looking up!

Funny Bunny

Funny is an Easter Bunny birthday party in January.  June arrived with ears, a purple tail and a fancy white dress.  Sweet Caroline just loves bunnies.

Trust in a New Year's Hike

I have been itching to go on a New Year's hike, but sicknesses and schedules put us behind.  Finally, on Monday, we managed (barely) to get out of the house and venture to Boulder Valley Ranch.

As we looped, the temperature dropped.  We kept up our momentum with the lure of heat and pizza.  Still, I have come to trust our hikes.

I trust that they broaden my mind, and give me a sense of freedom and of faith.  I trust that they bring expected pleasures, like finding mica or unearthing the perfect stick/sword/bow.  I trust that they bring unexpected pleasures, like the games that the kids make up or curiosities that arise from the landscape. And finally, even with the frequent absence of perfect harmony, I do trust in these hikes to pull us towards each together.

January Inside Simple

As an anecdote to the kids' simple play in the snow, I want to honor a couple of mind-numbingly simple activities that have been going on inside our house.

My all-time favorite is called "Wrinkle up paper and then draw on the wrinkles."  Not much elaboration needed there, except that these sheets of paper take on some sort of magical mapping powers once completed.  A close second is copying and re-copying and re-copying the Periodic Table.

January Snow Simple

January always feels like a blank slate.  After December's ambition, the calm is welcome, even if it's disconcerting for the first day or two.  Aside from the never-ending busyness of life, my honest ambition for January is to see how simple we can get, preferably outside.

I started to say "how unambitious we can get," but "simple" is not "unambitious."  In fact, sometimes making the kids' lives more simple requires a lot more energy from me, almost trying to hide how much work it is keep our lives running smoothly.

But, it snowed today, and I am reminded that the kids can do simple, on their own.  The slow, quiet flakes inspire it.  My favorite snow scenes to date this season have involved:

Writing in the snow,

Playing "find the stick" in the snow,

Measuring snow,

Digging to Boulder Creek in the snow,

Shoveling snow,

Making sit-spots in the snow,

Sitting in a wagon (moving or not) in the snow,

Making angels in the snow (these days, always June),

And the trusty fallback, eating snow!  (In almost every snow picture I have of Clara, her hand is in her mouth.)