more hobbit-like pursuits

baby-hobbit burrows under the covers

We haven't quite gotten to the point of eating breakfast, second breakfast and elevenses, but we are spending most of our days inside and planning our activities based on their proximity to the fireplace. Here are some of the things that have kept us occupied...

I finally got my horribly-jammed machine back from the repair man

and am getting my sewing muscles back into shape.

Miryam was given modeling beeswax for hanukkah and worked on this "Pippi Longstocking" for a nice quite half hour. Pippi lived on the ledge proudly for quite a while before she was dismantled for other projects.

Finger paint makes a big come-back

and when in doubt - we take a nice hot bath, preferably with California Baby bubble bath and many many cups

On a side note, Andy's mama just left from a week of visiting with us and in a few hours our friends from France are coming for the week. In the midst of all this I was called to two births in 24 hours so we are filled with some joyous chaos around here. I'm blogging while taking a break from putting new sheets on the beds and washing towels. Luckily all of our guests are looking for a shire-like visit so we can all eat big breakfasts and then lounge around waiting for spring so we can grow things.

portends

If today portends what 2010 will bring, I'll welcome it.

We had friends over for brunch and, because the day so was beautiful, we went out for a run around and some sledding. I have been very hobbit-like this winter - preferring to stay cozy indoors while the wind blows - but I know this isn't very good for my mind or my body. I am not someone who make resolutions but I am resolving to be mindful about getting outside as close to everyday as possible for some play. It's the bundling that takes the effort - once I am out I am quite happy and always try to remind myself how good it feels. Then I bring everyone in for "The Great Unbundling" and I forget.

Today the sun was shining, there was no wind and we had a couple of inches of snow the night before to cover up the hard-packed under layer. These were perfect sledding conditions and we took many runs down the tiny hill that comes down from the garden. Éamonn was given a sled for Solstice and Miryam brought out her kicksled. Éamonn was able to keep his feet up on the footrest so he was able to take many trips down the hill and back and forth across the yard. The seemed to be enjoying himself but had a pretty serious look on his face. Taking it all in, I guess.

Éamonn and Auntie on the kicksled

I'm still dreaming of some adult sized kicksleds so we can take the littles out for a long ride. They make them with little seat belts and even pram-attachments for the littlest of riders. Maybe next year...

the holidays cometh

basket of locally made beeswax candles ready for long winter nights

Miryam was born on the 19th of December 5 years ago. We joked that she was trying to hold out until the solstice but I went on such a beautiful winter walk that day and the moon was in the phase Andy had guessed she would be born in, and we were just so ready for her, that she decided that a couple of days before her plan was just fine. That is sort of her personality too. She makes plans, sometimes very big plans, but she also understands their impermanence.

December 19th is a tricky time to be born if you come from a family that celebrates Christmas, Hanukkah and Solstice. Scheduling issues abound but, even more difficult, it all just blends into one celebration. Which is nice in some ways but often it just feels like a busy two weeks of getting presents and eating food. Not so bad in print but in practice it can lack in relaxation, gratitude and meaning. So this year we have tried to distill what we get (or want to get) out of each holiday and how we plan to celebrate them as a family. Andy and my families of origin are Jewish and Catholic, respectively. We still feel, at least culturally, connected to those traditions in some way and so want to include them in our winter celebrations.

For Christmas we go to my family's house for gift giving, the big tree and a feast. Santa comes to Grandmas house only - this was something we really waffled about when Miryam was smaller but really it came down to the fact that Santa visited Miryam's 4 other cousins and so we weren't sure how to handle him in our family. The man-in-red visiting Grandma's house is our compromise. We honestly try to talk about him as little as possible. We give gifts to my family on this day but the children don't get any from us or vice versa.

During the nights of Hanukkah we light our menorah (note to self: remember to order beeswax candles because every year you forget and no one locally carries them) that was made for us by our dear friends. We talk about the story of Hanukkah and what it represents in our lives. We also give the children a gift each night and eat Latkes at least once during the 8 nights. We always make a big batch using Andy's Bubbie's recipe and we also attempt figure out when our friends are making them and try to get an invite!

Solstice has always been the holiday that feels the most authentic to our lives for Andy and I. Before we had Miryam we had yearly Solstice parties with mulled wine, a big potluck and lots of friends. One year we even made it through the night until we could climb up a local hill that has a panoramic view of our whole Valley. Once Miryam was born that party was supplanted by her birthday celebrations and so Solstice sort of blending into the General Winter Festivities. This year we decided to bring back some of the traditions that were important to Andy and my Solstices together and adapt them into traditions that fit into our lives as they are now. We've decided that I'll knit stockings for each of the children so we can hang them on our mantle filled with small presents both some just fun and others practical (growing up mine always included a new toothbrush). They'll also get a new pair of pajamas to slip into when the sun starts to go down. We'll do the whole of the evening without using electricity (except passively in our refrigerator and well-pump, you know). We'll have some sort of a meal in front of the fireplace, light candles around the house and play with the new toys from the stockings, sing some songs, play some games, read some books. We'll put mattresses down on the floor so we can have a big family bed in front of the fire and snuggle through the longest night.

Now that there is a plan and a vision the season to come seems more exciting than it has in a while. I'm going to hold on to that feeling of glee as long as I can.

bittersweet

Truly, it is the liminal seasons that I like best. Summer is what I wait for, of course, but I the image in my mind might be better than the reality. We have the fleeting moment of late spring, early summer which is just perfect. 70 degrees, sunny, dry and everything is bursting as if reaching out towards July. All the good weather is ahead of us, all the bountiful local food is a few weeks away. Picnics are packed, bicycles are found in the backs of garages and us crazy New Englanders feel as though (if we are standing in the sun, at least) that it might just be warm enough to swim. This is the time of optimism. We pay no mind to the humidity and mosquitos no come. Those are a surprise each year.

Autumn is season of neither-nor, of a time-between, but it comes with none of the innocent optimism of spring. We know, deep in our bones, the cold and snow to come. The first morning we put bare toes down onto cold floorboards we see the months of winter stretching before us and shiver. This creates trouble when attempting to enjoy Autumn, to look forward to it even. There is that day, that bittersweet day when the trees are adorned with color, the sun is bright and still strong but there is the smell of wood stoves in the air. That day is so perfect but there is that feeling of waiting, of knowing what's to come. A bit of worry about how to get through until spring again.

This year, I am determined to look the Snow Queen in the eye and welcome her with a mug of cocoa and a lap blanket. I have new wool socks and I am ready to welcome the sweetness of winter.

halloween bag

The children chose (not that Éamonn had very much imput) to be Thing 1 and Thing 2 this year. I have to say, truth be told, that I have no love for the Cat in the Hat but I'm not wearing the costume so, hey. I am required to sew the costume though and, as usual, I was hand stitching the last bits in the car on the way to my brother's house. We live out there just enough that you might not fill your bag on halloween without trudging a couple of miles. That might be hyperbole, which I am prone to, but I think not. I didn't get any photos but I'll see if Grandma's camera caught any good shots.

I made sure to get a photo of the halloween bag before it went into the basement until next year. I made 4 of these and Miryam gave the others to two of her friends. I had another fabric to make 4 more for other friends but the sewing machine jammed and so the fabric is ready waiting for me to stitch it up next year. Luckily the machine is going into the shop this week - I think it just needs a good cleaning but let's all think some good sewing-machine-repair thoughts, eh? I have my mom's old kenmore which is a workhorse but I really need to make a cover to keep the dust out.

Must respect the Sewing Machine.

snuggles

please pardon the poor iphone photo.

On our most recent trip to Maryland we left, as usual, at night so the children would snooze on the way home. Unfortunately Éamonn hit a big wall emotionally at around 11 pm and we decided, with 4 hours of driving ahead of us, that it would be more humane for all of us to get a last minute hotel room and go to sleep in a proper bed. The littles were both so exhausted that they were sleeping within moments of crawling into the bed.

They don't, generally, sleep in the same bed because they might never sleep, so I've never had the opportunity to see them snuggle so much. I love the chubby hand at rest, the sweaty brows, the pouty lips, the rosy cheeks. Miryam has always wished that she and Éamonn were twins, and snuggled in that bed they look as though they might have willingly shared a womb.

in the orchard

Though I am always seek to creating more rhythm in our family, when I look to the food and farm based activities that we do each year I am pleased to see that we have a clear sense of the agricultural rhythm in our area. We can remember when things happen, or have happened, based what was growing, what we were eating. Miryam knows when her friend will turn a year older because she was born "when the strawberries are ripe". Papa goes back to teaching when the apples are on the trees. The corn doesn't come until we have been swimming for a while. We are not purist about eating only what is in season but there are certain foods - tomatoes, corn on the cob, berries and the like - that we truly only eat when we can get them at the farmer's market or a farm stand. Once you really know tomatoes unless they are in season you can bear to eat them fresh. Corn has to be eaten the very day it was picked. I've heard that some people take a campstove with a cooking pot of water, heat it to a boil and then pick, shuck and cook the corn within moments of harvest. I can relate. Corn that fresh is good raw and really only needs to be steamed for about 2 minutes to make it hot enough for butter to melt on it.



This year, due to unexpected travel and too much rain, we missed strawberry picking. This also means that we missed strawberry jam-making which feels a bit traumatic. Lots of people have complained about what an off summer we had. Very cool and wet and then straight to a short burst of hot and humid - everything was damp. It does feel a bit like summer was snuck by us when we weren't looking, and missing strawberry picking feels a bit like we lost the month of June. Oops! It's a bit disconcerting and now it is a whole year until we can give it another try. I guess we better figure out marmalade.



That is all a long way of saying that because we missed strawberries we needed to make up our seasonal balance by picking an obscene amount of apples. We were tipped of by a friend that our state college has a test orchard a few towns away that has over 100 varieties of apples. The views were stunning and the area we were sent to pick in was filled with a mix of varieties, all but a handful were new to us and some of them, we were told, were so new that they didn't even have names yet just I.D. numbers. We were encouraged to takes bite of whatever we wanted to see how they were. It was really enlightening eating so many apples in such quick succession. Though I was aware that there was a vast variety of flavors and textures across the apple world but I was actually amazes at how stark the differences could be. We were completely paperless that day but next year I'd like to write down some of our favorites. We got a bunch of all of them and mixed them together in a sauce to eat over the winter. I have never succeeded in canning enough apple sauce to get through the year but seeing the rows of jars, I might just make it.