The Holly and the Oak

The winter winds find me distracted and turning ever inward. And as the holidays snuck up from behind, I realized I was in desperate need of connecting. Not as in Facebook or holiday cards, but as in honest-to-goodness, face-to-face, heart-to-heart connecting.

Luckily, our solstice and Christmas holidays were filled with the warmth and light of family and friends. We gave less of our pockets this year, but more of ourselves. And as the sun rose again after the longest night, my thoughts started turning to the rewards of living with less. How out of necessity, stumbling in the dark, we manage to stub our toes on treasures we never knew were there.

Treasures are not only often hard to see but, unfortunately, fleeting. Ardie Rodale, matriach of the Rodale family, Rodale, Inc. and the Rodale Institute passed away just days before the solstice. As the dark overcame the light, she made her journey into the great unknown. She touched so many people in her lifetime, her firey spirit continues to glow within the heart of each of those souls.

It is easy to saint in our memories those who have passed. I'm sure Ardie was at times falable, grumpy, petty, scared, and otherwise just as human as I. And, though I spent a scant amount of time with her, Ardath Rodale managed to speak to my heart with her unguarded thoughts on life. Her simple, uncensored and incredibly positive words always felt real--bare and so honest as though they came from someone both naive and wise. May we all be so lucky to hold naivety and wisdom in equal parts.

The papa bear is terribly talented at finding trees with old bird nests nestled within their branches. This year will make the third nest that has graced our Yule tree in the eight years we've been married. May this home within our home bring us good luck for the year to come. And may the ceaseless turning of the wheel bring inspiration to us all. My new year's resolution: Keep my soul open to the path that feels right--whatever that may be.

A Gratitude Tree

After reading the lovely Erin's post on making a Gratitude Tree with her little one, we just had to join in and create our very own version.

Rowan's short of patience when it comes to coloring, so he called out things or people for which he was thankful and mama wrote them on the leaves.

Here's the list as created by my little man (in rough chronological order):

Thanksgiving lunch (he's a total foodie)
Elvis (our dog)
Jasper (our cat)
My baby
My Meme blanket
Woolie (a lambskin he's had since birth)
Family
Bumblebee helmut (Transformers)
Woody hat (cowboy hat)
Good friends
Guns (um, yes, he said guns!)
Leaf jumping

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Share some gratitude with the ones you love (and even the ones you don't).

Light and shadow

For some reason I thought all children were scared of the dark on some level. So you an imagine it has caught me off guard that Rowan is so comfortable in the darkness. Every evening around 7:30pm or so, he asked to go outside. We howl at the moon (if she's out), play "movie theater", row our boogie board "boat" through the ocean of leaves with our baseball bat "oars", crazy walk, sprint around the garden, look for clues to a mystery, and any number of other ridiculous and fantastical activities. Rowan always leads the play session.

In honor of the lengthening nights and my little bear's energetic enthusiasm for outdoor twilight play, I read The Night is Like an Animal by Candace Whitman and Darkness Slipped In by Ella Burfoot to the preschoolers for storytime at the library. The stories are always followed by a craft and I wracked by brain to think of something three- to five-year-olds could make that would be more than just a one-off coloring project.

And then I remembered going to the theater when I was a young girl and seeing a shadow puppet rendition of traditional fairytales. They thrilled me like no other theater had. Something about the shadows and the movements and the necessity of our own imaginations to translate the dialog into expressions entranced me. The fairytales were originals--unedited, uncensored and violent. I loved them. Thinking back, I almost wonder if that's not where my love for fairytales really began. Not by reading them (gasp!), but by experiencing them in that strange shadow world.

So, we made shadow puppets. There were simple cuts outs for the children, and a more complicated version I made the night before of Three Billy Goats Gruff complete with a cereal box set on which the kids could try their own puppets.

They were entranced. Especially my darkling child. He can light up the whole house with his smile, but beware a storm brewing behind those blue eyes. I wouldn't have him any other way.

"Where there is much light, the shadow is deep."
~ Goethe

Click here for the Three Billy Goats Gruff template we used.

Sweet Samhain

Autumn energy

Fall is my favorite time of year. I can't help but take in as much of the crisp air, golden light and that unique scent of the declining year. You can almost feel the outdoors winding down.

We pulled the last bits of the harvest from the garden...

...and reveled in the final snatches of warmth--storing them on our bones to keep us warm through the winter.

We celebrated a birthday...

...and looked closely as some of the things in our little world that have begun to feel familiar only to find lots of unfamiliar things.

And after days of weather that nearly chilled us all to the bone, we had a warm and wet reprieve...

Note: He did start out with galoshes and an umbrella. By the end of this escapade, he was sitting in the puddles.

Of course, we've also had temper tantrums galore, 20 adults and 10 children in our too small home (including an experiement in doing a pinata inside amongst all said folk), five articles for Mother Earth News, and job interviews at least once a week for the hubby. Now the household is recovering from a case of the sniffles.

I would have posted some pumpkin pics, but the little bear has decided he is NOT interested in going to the pumpkin patch this year. Sigh. Maybe we should take to carving turnips. T'would be more historically accurate and wouldn't require dragging a very large three-year-old through a field kicking and screaming.

In the meantime, the countdown to All Hallow's Eve is underway and we've been waffling on whether or not to take our precocious (but temperamental as of late) little man to see Where the Wild Things Are movie. I've heard amazing things about it, but my parents managed to see it first (I suspect because they didn't trust our instincts on this one) and were "appalled" at how emotionally violent it was. Would love to get any blogmama opinions on this one.

Until next time....

Growing pains

My little man is heading toward three years old next month and is having serious growing pains. Despite being completely potty trained since February, he has decided he wants to wear diapers again. When we talk about his birthday party, he tells us he doesn't want to grow up. When someone mentions what a big boy he is, he says he wants to stay little forever. When did my son turn into Peter Pan? I thought this was't supposed to happen until his was a bit older.

I have to admit I'm stumped as to exactly how to respond. Consider it a phase and let him play baby? I'm hestitant. He was almost completely weaned at two years old when I was laid off from my full-time job. Let's just say he is still nursing late at night and at naptime almost a year later.

My mild-mannered, polite, and pleasant little boy has also gotten terribly grumpy, contradictory, inconsolable, mercurial and stressed out. Are these the "terrible twos" and how long are they supposed to last? I don't know if I'll still be standing when it's all said and done. Hell, I don't know if the house will still be standing when it's all said and done.

In sweeter news, there is at least one thing that has brought a big smile to my honeybear's face. A serendipitous dessert that disappeared in two days--a record for us, I believe.

What we're calling Black Forest Pear Tart is the perfect way to use up those almost-too-far-gone pears. It has the silkiest milk-less "custard" that slurps up the succulent fruit juices as the tart bakes, infusing the whole mess with the scent of sweet pear. For a cobbled-together recipe, it caught us completely off guard with it's wicked deliciousness.

Black Forest Pear Tart

1 all-butter crust (see Getting Crafty post from January)
5 bosc pears
1 cup blackberries
2/3 cup sugar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 egg, beaten
1 teaspoon almond extract

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Roll out your crust and lay into tart or pie plate, trimming any overhang and crimping the edge. Slice the pears and arrange in the bottom of the crust. Scatter the blackberries atop the pears. Mix the sugar, lemon juice, eggs and almond extract in a small bowl with a wisk to combine. Pour evenly over the fruit and pop in the oven for 50-60 minutes until the "custard" is set, the fruit is tender and the crust is golden brown. Let cool on a rack (if you can resist). Cut and serve when the tart still has a breath of the oven on it--a touch warm.

Snaps

Three apples up on top...

Sort of...

Making music...

Looking goblinish in his "Davie Bowie" mask....

Bareback...

Skivvy swimming...

Rockin'...