Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Spring is Coming

spring is coming, spring is coming
birdies build your nest.
weave together straw and feather
doing each your best.

spring is coming, spring is coming
flowers are coming, too.
pansies, lilies, daffodillys
all are coming through.

spring is coming, spring is coming
all around is fair.
shiver, quiver on the river,
joy is everywhere.
This is one of my favorites from our Waldorf nursery years. It's such a catchy tune that simply feels like spring.  Here is a link to a version I found on youtube so you can hear the tune.  As in any oral folkloric tradition, there are lots of variations; these are the words I sing.
I am realizing I haven't been posting my promised "twice-a-week-postings" but it is simply too pretty outside to be sitting at my computer.  I'm ok with that. Life changes, we adapt. I will post when I'm inspired- this blog is not a "should"  The garden is waking and needs a little attention, just like any newborn. We have been busy removing the old leaves, mending fountains and fences, fighting the ever-climbing ivy, and planning for new spring plantings.  The grill has been fired up and the baseball bats and balls have emerged from the basement. Regardless of the date on the calendar- Spring is here!

The onions are getting big and the herbs are returning- chives, parsley, thyme,
marjoram and oregano have all poked their little heads up. 

Lenten Roses were early this year.

The view from our bedroom window
A forgotten autumn fort

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Spirit Week Blahs

Warning- a rant:  Am I the only parent who hates spirit week at school? After a second day of watching a tear-stained little face walk into school, I seriously have to ask why we do this. I'm sure teachers and parents mean well when they organize these events. They sound fun. And maybe they are for some children. But not mine.  Today was "wacky hair day."  I now have sticky hands, a messy bathroom, and a boy who went to school in tears.  I apparently don't have the right gel to make a mohawk and his hair is too long to stay up and where, oh where, is that can of leftover hair-paint-spray from Hallloween? I'm sure I'll find it at Easter when I'm looking for rabbit ears. Sigh.  Perhaps if I had girls I would have the correct hair supplies, but I have boys who pay about as much attention to their hair as they do their toenails- zilch!  When I looked in my own cabinet, I found hair gels that were at least 10 years old and definitely not the type for a punk-do. I'm currently a big fan of the ponytail- no gel required. Yesterday was "twin day" (the day you are supposed to dress exactly like your best friend) which wasn't quite as bad but there was still the drama about which friend to pick. Thank goodness for the octo-mom: now kids can have unlimited "twins" at school.  And then there was the frantic search for the wrist bands that were apparently in the goody bag from a birthday party 6 months ago.  "But I HAVE to have them- we all agreed to wear them"  Maybe if I were a type-A-uber-organized mom I would know where the soccer wrist bands were, but most days I'm lucky to know where the clean underwear and socks are. (Not that anyone cares about those except me.) And to be completely honest, those wrist bands might have ended up in a box that went to the thrift store- I vaguely recall seeing them recently.  Needless to say, he survived the day sans wrist bans.  Pajama day didn't involve any drama this year, but triggers bad flash-backs of previous years "There is absolutely no waaaaaaaaay I'm wearing my pajamas to school- it's weird- but there is absolutely no waaaaaay I'm going to be the only one not wearing them-everyone else will wear them. I'm staying home- you can't make me go."  Well I can, and I did. In a compromise of sweat pants. 
The hodgepodge of hair goop we tried.

Tomorrow is sports jersey day.  Thank goodness for one easy one.  My sports-obsessed boys have plenty of those.  I just have to make sure the laundry gets done so they are all clean.

But first I think I'll make a cup of tea and do a little knitting and appreciate the fact that  they are off at school and someone else's problem for a few hours (god bless those teachers.)
I think lintilla  is coming along nicely.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Less stuff

So far, I have been really disciplined with my lenten goal of placing one item a day into a box for charity. Most days I find myself putting a lot more into the box than one item.  Of course I have to fight that little voice in my my head that says "Hold onto it so you have something to put in the box next week."  I recognize that voice as the little demon on my shoulder, the same one that tells me that carrying laundry up two flights of stairs should count as a workout or that leaving the leaves on the garden is just "natural mulch." I'm doing a pretty good job of ignoring the little demon-voice and when I come across an item that I know belongs in that box, I put it in right away- no holding it for a later day.  I've now made two trips to the thrift store with boxes of clothes that don't fit and gadgets I no longer use. I have also delivered some beloved books and children's clothing to friends with younger children. There have also been very full recycling bins every week with papers that I no longer need to keep.   It feels good to slowly but surely clean the closets and cluttered corners of the house.

As I've been going through my things, I've also been going through my children's closets and drawers.  It surprised me a bit to learn that I am, as much if not more, attached to their childhood toys and momentos than they are. A third birthday card reminds me of the gaggle of little boys searching for moon rocks (river rocks painted with glow-in-the-dark-paint.) A never-played-with little boy babydoll tugs at my heartstrings and reminds that my "all-boy" boys never did take to dolls, no matter how sensitive they are.  But these are my memories and my hopes and dreams and not theirs. I don't need dolls and rocks and toys to preserve my memories of my little boys.  They are in my heart forever.  I hope they bring memories and joy to someone else now.

The van loaded up for a trip to the thrift store