The requisite Halloween photo for you, friends...our Golden Dragon Warrior and Tinkerbell disguised as a giraffe. I love all the meanings of the holiday...the seasonal pull within, the connection with ancestors, and the full-on gorge-fest.
Look at the spook we ran into...
I think it's fair to say that some masks are able to capture one's essential nature.
Wish Studio asked about where and how I spend my sacred creative time. Today was a perfect day to wonder on that. It was one of those days.
As I watched myself move through the day, I was astounded by difference between the story chattering away inside my head and the one you'd hear if I listed the details of the day: swim lessons, had a friend over for the afternoon. Lunch, fused bead crafts, painted paper pumpkins, baked cookies, conducted a rousing guitar singalong, read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, make homemade tomato sauce from whole frozen tomatoes. It all sounds kind of inspired and fun. But I was going through it unsmilingly with jaws clenched. Grudgingly, even. From the moment I got out of bed.
I was really struck by this the other day. As I flipped through my blog looking for a piece from last year, I had to laugh. "I wish my life were like this!" I thought. I was reminded of Christie Brinkley's comment several years ago in a discussion about photo retouching and the fashion industry: "I wish I looked like Christie Brinkley," she said.
I do consciously choose the sunny side here, it's true. Not because I want you to think a certain way of me, but because it's a really good practice for me. I fall easily into the complain-and-commiserate habit, and I find my heart is buoyed when I stay in gratitude and reflect that outward.
So as I watched my cranky, grumpy self move through joyful actions with the children (moving in and out of the joy itself), I recognized that place--this moment--as my messy, chaotic, unswept, sacred creative space.
And knitting happened . . .
It's been a long of week of resting at home. (Oh, is it only Wednesday?) But yesterday's sun drew us out for some old-fashioned autumn fun. What is better than a maple leaf pile, my friends?
In the spirit of the season, the chilly-warm-sunny-windy-rainy-snowy-cold-and-flu seaon, I wanted to share with you some of the ways we've been taking care of our immune systems and nursing ourselves when the bug has bitten.
First...We have cut out the sugar. I've observed it's our greatest immune system buster. I know that big, spooky day is right around the corner and ever since he got sick on Sunday, all Isaiah wants is to be "better by Halloween." But we're avoiding all the other Halloween-related events that will inevitably involve more sugar. And we'll welcome a visit by the Pumpkin Fairy who takes the children's "leftover" candy and brings them their hearts' desire. It worked out so well last year.
For prevention:
Once the bug is in house:
In general, we've also gotten back to really simple eating. Tonight I made steamed collard greens with balsamic vinegar and roasted potatoes and beets. Of course, no one was thrilled. "That's all there is?" Isaiah took one look and whined, "I want something else." He insisted he wasn't eating dinner. He went to the fridge, looked around, wandered back to the table, and eventually had two helpings of each. I know the feeling, dude. My brain can easily convince me that I can subsist on coffee, ice cream, toast, and chocolate, but one bite of those greens and the connection is made. Body wisdom takes over.
I know this is a simple list. Truly our go-to remedies. I'd love to hear the things that really work for your family.
As the children were out of commission on Sunday, I enjoyed the guilty pleasure of sitting on the couch watching sports on tv all day.
Big news in our family was the Vikings-Steelers game. I come from a Steelers family and they will always be my team. Yet, there's something captivating about the Vikings..I mean, first of all, Vikings. How can you not love that? Especially if you're a 4-year-old boy. And they do wear purple. Points for mama and Miel with nice team colors.
So when Isaiah asked for a Vikings hat to wear along with his Big Ben Waffleburgers shirt for the day of the big game, I was happy to oblige. He didn't even notice that I left out the gold so that he could have a bit more all-purpose purple hat.
Did you happen to read the Malcolm Gladwell article in the New Yorker a couple of weeks ago? The one comparing football and dogfighting? I highly recommend it, though I'll never watch a football game the same way again.
I think I'm going to like football Sundays...I finished one hat and started another. Maybe the knitting slump is over.
So quickly we're moving from food preservation season to indoor crafty time. The pantry is stocked with several dozen jars of strawberry jam, raspberry jam, rhubarb grapefruit jam, and even some South Carolina peach jam that I'm saving till the desperate days of February. There are jars of tomato sauce, sun-dried tomatoes, and roasted tomato puree in the pantry, and a few too many bags of whole tomatoes cluttering up the freezer, along with several quarts of grated zucchini, steamed peas and kale, and pureed cauliflower.
We seem to get a classic beautiful autumn day surrounded by several days of gloom, freezing rain, and yes, even snow. After making clay sculptures and shrinky-dinks (!), (and the children each getting a new autumn hat), we dug out our outerwear from the cedar closet and proceeded to have a giant snowball fight and build a pretty darn good little snowman.
I couldn't seem to get a decent picture of Miel because all she really wanted to do was meow like a cat and lie facedown to eat the snow.
It's a little daunting when winter starts in October. I can't help but click through the months in my mind...um, yeah, that would be at least 5 months of winter. But this part of the year feels sweet. Returning indoors. Returning to cozy crafting (with the children at an age where they can really enjoy their own crafting and help a bit with cleanup). Slowing down, getting to bed earlier, sleeping later.
Most of all, it is returning into ourselves. In Chinese medicine, winter is the most yin time, the deepest, darkest, quietest night of the soul. We replenish from having spent all our yang energy in the summer, eat warming foods, and go deep within. It's a time to dive deep into the heart. We're on a journey, friends. I'm ready to go deep this season. Are you with me?
A golden rule...happiness attracts more happiness.
The Soup is all about shining your lovelight bright. And having it shined right back at you.
There's really not much more to say other than...mmm-mmm good food, hugs, tears, 2 am dancing every night, singing round the campfire, Wild Rumpus, hooping, absinthe, tipis, live music karaoke, and love, love, love.
We are blessed to be often visited by fairies and elves leaving us baskets for solstices, equinoxes, and just because. The children run to our bedroom crying, "Someone left a basket on the table!! With books and giant acorns and wool ropes!!"
As the children grow older, we are drawn into thinking more deeply about our beliefs and what to pass on. I can see that whatever we do is what they believe is done, and I find myself bringing in, weeding out, passing through the sieve of discernment habits and rituals.
My family roots are Jewish and strong. I was bat mitzvahed and confirmed in the synagogue and celebrated every holiday with delicious food (we're talking homemade gefilte fish and kreplach here) and copious relatives, all talking and laughing and yelling at once. I've studied and practiced yoga for over 20 years, delving into the Hindu teachings that are at the foundation of the practice. I've been drawn to Buddhist teachings, finding that they always remind me of the simplicity of breathing and accepting the present moment. The practice of Chinese medicine has brought me into the Tao. I've also studied and practiced earth-based spirituality goddess traditions for the past 20 years, from studying with a witch in Boston, to practicing magic and ritual every new moon with a sweet circle of women for years, to helping create spectacular costumed rituals for 300 people.
Whew. Now that I wrote that, I see why this is something that is up for me as the children become ready for some more directed spiritual development. Our family motto thus far has been, "Celebrate everything!"
Well, never fear. We're not going to lessen our celebrating and certainly none of these traditions is off the list. We practice yoga, belong to a synagogue, and all that good stuff. What is exciting is that this equinox holiday we began to join with other families to celebrate the Wheel of the Year. We gathered round a harvest potluck, invoked the elements, and howled around the bonfire.
It was sweet to witness the diversity of our circle--we attend the local synagogue, our friend is a member of the Unitarian Church, and other churches were also represented at our circle--and see that we could still circle in honor of the sacred natural rhythm. We loved going to Rosh Hashanah services, hearing the shofar blast, and doing a family Tashlich in the local lake. We could feel the connection of Rosh Hashanah to the equinox, as it should be.
Our group is fledgling. If you're a local reader interested in joining us, please do! All are welcome. We're not using the "W" word yet, but maybe we can whisper it around the Samhain campfire :)
Maybe the sieve I'm using isn't so fine. Nothing seems to be getting weeded out. But intentions are growing clearer and brighter, illuminating the moments. Until the moments are all that are left.
* And since I've recently been "accused' of talking only about food, I'll keep my good record and share these corn, zucchini, cheese empanadas with you.
You might already know that I rarely let my birthday go unremarked. I'm just not that kind of gal. I mean, if you're not going to celebrate your birthday, who will? And what better way to show the people in your life how much you appreciate them than to throw them a party? This birthday marked a year in Minnesota, and it was also my first birthday in 15 years without Belly (who was usually happy to co-host parties with me), so I needed to celebrate in her honor. And it was our first big party in our new home.
So we got a great band...Brother Music and Sister Rhythm, who not only serenaded us for 2 1/2 hours, but also played our wedding song, Gillian Welch's "Dear Someone" and humored me and my guitar around the campfire late night, letting me play with the big kids. Someday, someday, I'll be their rhythm guitarist.
This was also a neighborhood party. Lots of bigs and littles rode their bikes, lining both sides of the driveway. Our neighborhood is blessed to adjoin local treasure Quarry Hill Nature Center and Park. The Nature Center introduces children and adults to the natural world around them and boasts the most inspiring group of teacher-naturalists I've encountered. From the pond to the trails to the native prairie and oak savannah, we've enjoyed the facility in all seasons.
Even more than that, Quarry Hill has been an anchor here for our family. Much as I felt when I entered the Robyn Smith's class at the Community Yoga Center upon moving to Arcata, I had the same "I can live here" feeling when we first stepped into the nature center on our third day in Rochester. We started attending the most delightful toddler classes with Kirk Payne and our lives in Rochester unfolded for us. First, we met the mama with whom we formed a whole circle of sweet moms and babes and then as Kirk heard me waffling around about whether to live in town or out in the country and all my numerous considerations, he told us that a Quarry Hill coworker would soon be selling a house that might be perfect for us...in the city but a little bit like the country...and now we live in it. It's like that old adage about dating...find your passions and you will connect with likeminded souls.
When we heard that they are raising money to re-line the pond, it was a no-brainer to make the party a benefit for the Plug the Pond campaign. People brought an array of delightful raffle items, from homemade jams to pizza making lessons and supplies to natural cleaning supplies to local hard lemonade. We raised a bunch of money and had a great time in the process!
And yes, even little miss sass agrees that we'll make it an annual event.
Oh my...did ya' miss me? I missed you! Life has been happening so quickly, as always seems to happen with the change of seasons.
So much to catch you up on! I'll start with the most important, my birthday :) Which bled right into Rosh Hashanah, which is quickly turning to the Equinox. Like I said...it's a speedy wheel.
Pizza on the Farm in Stockholm, Wisconsin, was a delightful treat for my birthday day. It reminded me of Farmer Pat's pizza nights at the cob oven on OZ Farm, only this time, we were the luxuriating paying customers lounging in the grass. Not only was it a super-treat, but what a business model: they are open only on Tuesday evenings, they provide only the pizza cooked in their single brick oven one at a time, they grow the veggies and raise the animals used in their pizzas, and they make 150-350 pizzas a night.
Guests bring everything...wine, plates, cups, napkins, and take their pizza box with them when they go.
On our hour drive there, following our friends who go frequently, we remarked jokingly, "This had better be good pizza to be worth this drive." ...and it was.
Happy times, great inspiration.
Yummmmm . . .All the pickles have turned out so well, but these sour pickles . . .the best! And the good news is they're the easiest. Suddenly, the bread-and-butter sweet ones seem like some extra work. And they're not hard either.
I've been using Sandor Katz's recipe from his fabulous book Wild Fermentation, but good news for you, his pickle and sauerkraut recipes are posted on his web site. What an equal opportunity dedicated fermentalist he is. We had the great good fortune of hosting Sandor at our home in Blue Lake some years ago with our dear friend Frank Cook . It's been so sad to lose Frank and the grieving is definitely in process, but the best thing to do is to keep doing the work and sharing it.
Would you believe, a few days after Frank's passing, the book Wildflowers of the Tallgrass Prairie mysteriously appeared in our mailbox? We can now walk our backyard and nearby oak savannah and befriend our plant neighbors one at a time. Frank taught so that we could teach ourselves. I took his knowledge for granted and told him I needed him to come and teach me my own backyard. He certainly taught me enough to do it myself . . .though it won't be as much fun as having him by my side, sharing a backyard tea and fresh meal.
We have been sharing with another new friend. Larry is a local who has adopted us. Retired, but very busy, he tends to his 60 acres by growing 2 huge gardens, restoring his fields to native prairie, and growing corn for the resident deer and turkeys to eat all winter.
Once Larry found out that I will make use of whatever arrives on my doorstep, we've been recipients of an abundance of harvest goodness. This is my third box of cucumbers from Larry and, I have the feeling, just the beginning of the tomatoes. I've learned some Minnesota speak from Larry. When he tells me he "didn't do so much in the garden this year," that it's "not doing so well what with the cold and dry," and that he might have "just a few cucumbers," I've learned to clear my kitchen and buy some jars.
The other night found me sorting and washing pickles into the dark. Happy Harvest time!
If you're interested in checking out Frank's message of his just completed thesis, which was the same message he shared as we sat in circle in June, take a look at this. There are not many people who know what their mission is. Even fewer are living it. If there's any one teaching I'm integrating from Frank life, that's the one that is his greatest gift to me.
