Holiday Creations: Wrapping

I've always been drawn to Martha Stewart-style wrapping.  It's just so....perfect.  The prints and ribbons and stencils and stamps.  Here in my world, I am always pleased if I've gathered up presents to wrap in the first place.  Then, we bundle them up in whatever we've got, without worry over perfect folds or shiny paper.  I do prefer fabric and twine.

But, this year, we invested a little time in our wrapping.  We used little brown bags or left over tissue paper, trusty twine, and got creative with stars.  They were red, brown, or musical.

As always, the best part was nothing I could have planned.  June took care to sign all the stars from every single living thing in our midst, by name.  So, Mo the chicken was responsible for our giving this year.  In fact, the chickens and frogs stole my wrapping paper's glory.  Yet again, they put me in my place!

Auto Paralysis

Lately, I find great pleasure in quiet car moments.  Quiet, as in the car is parked and kidless.  We've made it home, everyone spills out, and I am catatonic, unable to move.  

I imagine all the noise that just shifted from the car to our house - dragging and dropping things, racing to the kitchen, everyone talking at the same time.  Quickly, the noise feels far, far away.  It's so peaceful behind the wheel, even behind the broken windshield.  

I don't worship my car like I used to as a late teen or 20-something, before "dependents" and evern before much climate change awareness.  I am not relishing in some song, or in the freedom of the road.  But this silent, grey, aged mini-van cradles me in a freedom just as vital:  the freedom to catch my breath.

Holding Hands Part II: In a Pumpkin

"Put them in a pumpkin shell, and there they function very well."  This may be as close as my competitive oldest two ever get to holding hands:

Holding Hands Part I: In Leaves

We have enjoyed a leaf pile in our backyard for quite some time now.  In fact, the grass underneath is surely dead.  A small price to pay.

The other day, the girls hid there from a friend who was coming over in, oh about an hour.  They laid peacefully and held hands.  

These two do fight, quite fiercely at times.  But in that pile of earthiness, they subconsciously connected their little fingers together for more than just a minute.  I do not cling to it as a state of their union.  But, it was a sacred time out of time moment, and one that was good.

I am a Tomato Patch

In the same way that pets sometimes resemble their owners, I think I resemble my tomato patch.

Yesterday, I plucked a gazillion cherry tomatoes from our garden.  The wet summer and long growing season produced a jungle out there!  When we first planted the tomatoes, I didn't have any "cages" on hand.  Then things got busy, and I missed our window.  The tomatoes became bushes, and I couldn't (or didn't) squeeze them into the rings.  So, the vines are all over the place, reaching in every direction.  Honestly, between the tangle of browning leaves and competing prickly pumpkin stems, our tomato plot is not all that "pretty." Appearance is not a priority, productivity is.

As I kaplink, kaplank, kaplunk a ton of tomatoes into harvesting bowls, I'm wearing the same clothes I've worn most of the week; I haven't brushed my hair, nor had it cut since I can remember; I am pretty well covered in dirt.  But, earlier in the morning, I made waffles and eggs for six, packed four lunches, and biked four kids to school.  Brushed hair be damned.  I am a hard-working tomato patch, and I'm thankful to be surrounded / hidden by some blooming marigolds.  

Love Notes

Love notes hang from all the edges of our dining room table.  They are secret language messages from John to his friend.  (When you don't know how to write, you resort to a secret language.)  How could I ever tear them down?

So our meals are laced with mystery and passion, in the form of yellow sticky notes.  (The sunflowers to match help, too.)

I'm ready for Valentine's day.

Cheap Gardening Part II: Bulbs

Fall bulbs really bring out the cheapskate in me.  They also shout out childhood parables involving delayed gratification:  You reap what you sow, long after the sowing.

This year, I am living the parable.  I returned from Costco and McGuckins with:

• 200 muscali (grape hyacinth) bulbs
• 200 daffodills bulbs
• 36 iris bulbs
• 20 narsicus bulbs
• 10 allium bulbs

We (I) have worked hard.  John dug one very deep hole.  The girls laid the first 100 into the ground, but have long since bailed.  I keep planting, with the promise beauty down the road.  Or possibly winter food for the squirrels.

Cheap Gardening: Seeds

You can't beat cheap gardening with cosmos seeds.  I planted these in mid-August, and for two months now, the flowers have gone crazy.  It makes up for so many gardening mis-steps along the way.

Perseverance and a Plant

June is learning the power of perseverance.

In April, during our annual "seed soup" party, June started six or eight Nasturtium seeds.  Starting seeds with the kids is not something I do with precision.  The basil seeds mix with the tomato, which mix with the nasturtium, which mix with the lavender.  I don't even bother labeling.  It's one big guessing game as the shoots peek up through the dirt.

Later in May, however, one recognizable nasturtium plant grew big enough to transfer to a pot.  June adopted it and watered it all summer, on the irregular care-taking schedule of an 8-year-old.

Finally, 6 months later, she got a single yellow flower!  It brought her immense joy.

Pets: Snails versus Chickens

I have recently discovered that snails make great pets.  There is really no way to tell if they are alive, or not alive...  John built glass jar habitats for about 50 lost snails.  We've only had one jar break, and one funeral.

Meanwhile, our chickens are eating their own eggs.  But, that's another story.

Fall Ride

When John and June and I hike, it's hard not to narrate a bit.  I tend to point out a tree or a bird or a flower.  With the older ones, however, I have the sense to keep quiet.  They don't need narration.  They need the opposite from me.  

But what a lucky half hour I had, to ride with them in silence through yellow aspens and showering fall leaves.

I could tell that Will caught the reverence, but he didn't say much.  Clara, on the other hand, actually made me stop:  "Mom, you've got to turn around."  I'd almost missed the view.

Fall Road Trip

I recognize that my longtime fascination with road trips may be a manifestation of attention deficit disorder.  After a quick trip to the mountains with June, I see that I'm right on track to pass that along to my kids.  Here is what we crammed into 24 hours:

• 6 hour drive, each way
• 10+ stops to gaze at fall leaves
• 4+ stops for photoshoots
• 3 stops for little hikes
• 1 lunch stop in Leadville
• 1 stop to watch a local parade
• 1 stop to get some school clothes
• 2 stops to read

At our destination, our pace was equally phrenetic: hiking, biking, running, eating, leaf boat racing, bookstore-ing, cafe-ing.  For the love of roadtrips, I don't think I'd trade the ADD.  The real conflict is  pollution.  We need a hybrid.

But, I do find that there are few better ways to connect with your loved one that cruising the world together.  Being present.  Taking it all in, side by side.  Or in our case, front seat - back seat.

Making Things: Trees

Recently, I gave each of my kids a square canvas and begged them to draw a tree.  I love to kick-start an art project and then watch to see where the chips fall.  Sometimes there is a creation.  Sometimes there is a drama.  Sometimes I get nothing.  But, on this day, we ended up with four authentic paintings.  Hallelujah!

Everyone painted one tree.  I love the way they are all so different (Will's and Clara's), or not so different (John copied June).  Surely they were all inspired by the Sorry board that never left the table.