Clean.

Rain.

Well good morning.

Last night I was up late. But like every morning, I still woke at 5 am. So I've had two cups of black tea (I don't normally do caffeine) and my thoughts are all over the map.

Let's run with it. The following will be random, but that's how I'm rolling today.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

It rained.

My garden is so happy, I could almost hear the collective sigh of flowers and veggies as the young plants soaked in that rain. Standing out in the garden this morning felt so good with wet grass and soil beneath my feet. Rain! Finally.

Sage, Lupine and I have spent the past two days gardening despite the heat and the dry soil. Lupine has been having considerable flower envy as we walk around town, ("Look mama! They have peonies. And poppies! Oh, and irises! I love irises. Oh, mama - they have LUPINES!" And then appreciation turns to tears and I carry her home. We talk about how pretty the flowers are but I say no, we won't plant roses here. We're moving. Really. I think so anyway. And then she cries a little more.

So I took her to the greenhouse this week and we picked out some annuals to brighten up a bland corner of our yard. This girl is ready for some acres of soil to dig in, but for now we've still got our yard, and for that I am truly grateful.

Sage is more of a succulents kid, so he planted a copper box with some plants from his collection. I got in the spirit with a galvanized tray centerpiece for our picnic table of herbs. Oregano, rosemary, and - of course - sage. There is something so satisfying about containers.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

And then I discovered that our freezer was unplugged.

I will spare you the photographs.

I have an uncle who once buried a full, broken chest freezer in his yard because he couldn't bear to clean out all of the stinking, decaying food. Had I waited a week to discover mine I may have considered renting a backhoe. Okay, not really, but I can understand the sentiment.

My freezer was nearly empty (small blessing) and I discovered it while everything was still cold, though thawed (large blessing).

And today we'll be roasting two turkeys we bought in the fall. Yes. Two. Enormous turkeys.

There were bags and bags of no-longer-frozen vegetables from last summer's garden. And a few containers of homemade cheeses. And some chicken livers. I couldn't bear to toss or compost it all so into the food processor it went (one container after another) and then back into the freezer. I'll add some raw meat and feed it to the dogs. I'm glad the food I worked so hard to put by last fall will be consumed by someone, even if that someone is canine.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

And now we roll into the weekend. I'll spend tomorrow selling soap at the farmer's market and likely spend the Sunday and Monday off-line, digging in the garden.

Wow. That was totally random. Thanks for sticking with me to the end.

Have a magical weekend, friends.

Love,
Rachel

Making: Kid's Nature Mandalas.

We interrupt our regularly planned homeschooling to bring you this spontaneous nature craft.

These children (and this boy in particular) never cease to amaze me. While I was getting dinner ready last night I saw Lupine running here and there with great armloads of dandelions. Sage kept coming into view, high in our crab apple tree, dropping blossoms and branches to the ground below. Climbing, gathering, trimming, and arranging they worked for most of an hour. Lupine was in charge of pulling petals and needles from branches while Sage laid out the blossoms and twigs. And then I was led (blindfolded) to see what they had created. A stunning nature mandala displayed on the front lawn, complete with a candle for night-viewing.

Beautiful?

I think so. For what it is and for what it represents. Because their joy is found in blossoms and branches; because the hour before dinner was spent out in the breezes and sunshine; because there is no video game or other screen occupying their unstructured time. Just pink and yellow flowers.

I love who they are, how they play, and how they see the world. And this mandala was a little window into my boy's heart. 

Wishing you a day filled with beauty and creativity - where you least expect it.

Love,
Rachel

 

A Hiking Date.

On Winter Solstice I gave Pete a dozen coupons. For a dozen dates. One per month for the whole year. That's about eleven more dates than we normally take, so we were both pretty jazzed.

It's April and to be honest, we've been a little slow to start, but I think that's because we've never made a habit of hiring a babysitter and just can't seem to get the hang of both leaving the house at the same time. We'll get it eventually. The kids might be moved out by then, but whatever. We're happy regardless. A date simply gives us time to swear, use inappropriate humor, and hike really fast. Without bringing snacks even.

Oh, and also talk without interruption and remember what this family is built on to begin with.

This weekend my mom came to visit, and Pete and I dashed off on our belated February (skiing) date for a March wander in the woods. It was glorious. This time of year is nothing short of magical to me. Captivated by the minutia of it all, I find that my left eye always loses it's ability to focus a couple of hours into any outdoor time in spring from being squeezed shut most of the time as I take photo after photo.

So here you go. A window into our date. In the most magical forest ever.

A Day in the Woods.

When Lupine saw locally wildcrafted ramps at the co-op she squealed. "Mama! Ramps! We have to go the the woods and forage today!"

How could I resist?

So we packed a picnic and headed to our favorite foraging spot. The ramps were just beginning to come up so we harvested only enough for dinner and a couple of salad-additions. And then we played in the woods and by the creek for the rest of the day.

And days like these are among my favorites. Owl calls, wild flowers, red-winged blackbirds, laughing-playing kids (and mama), and a puppy learning to swim. Simple perfection.

(For the botanically curious, plants from top are: hepatica, wood anemone, hepatica, bloodroot, and ramps. And here are some recipes for ramps you find in your own woods.)

Ten Things to Do Outside With Your Kids.

It's gorgeous out there. Our days and nights are in balance once more, the flowers are pushing up and beginning to open, and the sun is warm on our faces. I've talked before about getting outside more, but once you go are you sometimes a little lost as to what happens next? What exactly do you do once you get out there? Because until going outside and enjoying the expansive freedom of it becomes a habit, you might have your kids standing there staring at you wondering what happens next.

I'm a firm believer in planning less (and orchestrating less, and directing less) and letting childhood take the lead, but sometimes it's fun to have a trick in our pocket before we head out the door. Especially if you are increasing your amount of outside time dramatically. Here are ten tricks to take with you this season. Ten simple activities to enjoy with your children, with the wind in your hair. And if you've made a habit of ourtside time, these will be treats for your family now and then during your daily foray out into the green.

Ten Things to Do Outside With Your Kids

1. Go on an informal scavenger hunt. This became our favorite late-winter activity during our morning puppy walk. Sometimes my kids weren't... enthusiastic about putting down their books and crafts and bundling up for the cold. One scavenger hunt later and they were begging for a walk. We did ours informally, with me shooting from the hip with clues for each child (or clues to share), but you could write, type, or draw up a list for each child too. We didn't bring our items home but rather pointed them out to one another. Something shiny that isn't a car, something round, a swelling bud, a crow, a feather, an acorn cap, and every color in the rainbow are great places to start.

2. Create a mud kitchen. (No, you don't need to build anything!) Give your kids some old kitchen tools (surplus yogurt tubs, maybe an old pot and lid, a couple of spoons, and small plates or tupperware lids - whatever you can spare). Add a wooden board and a couple of bricks or something else they can craft into a table or stove. Show them where they can dig, give them a bucket of water or the hose, and watch as they make an imaginary mud-feast. This has been a favorite outdoor activity for years over here.

3. Fly a kite. We always forget to fly our kites. What a joy it is when we remember and we connect ourselves to the heavens by a fine thread. You can easily make your own kites too, for those who want a project before they head outside. (Sage is obsessing on this book this spring.)

4. Have a campfire. While gearing up to have a campfire sometimes seems like a bit work, every time we've done it I've been so glad we did. And as the winter snows recede, most of our yards are a mess of leaves, sticks and branches with plenty of fuel for the fire. Take it up a notch and cook some simple food over the fire for a snack or meal. (Pre-cooked brat or tofu dog on a stick, anyone? No, it's not elegant faire, but it's really fun to make.)

5. Make a sound map. I spent my pre-motherhood career as a naturalist, introducing children to the natural world. One of my favorite simple activities for children of any age was sound mapping. Start with a blank sheet of paper, a pencil, and a clipboard for each child. Find an out-of-the-way place to sit and listen. Then using thier ears and their imagination, the child sketches what they hear near and far around them. A bird call might look like a star to them or a smile, a car in the distance might be a lightening bolt shape, or perhaps an older child will draw an illustration of the sound-maker themselves. Have them place a point representing themselves in the middle first, and encourage them to be "quiet as a field mouse" as we say over here. I've rarely met a kid who wasn't skeptical at first, but engrossed minutes later.

6. Gather supplies for your spring nature table! I explained what a nature table is here and here. Go out with your kids and look for pussy willows, flowers, rocks, and branches to use. Of course make sure you are in a spot where you can collect, and then have at it! (Know that your little ones will bring home an abundance of odd treasures, some will be used and others will not.)

7. Take a wander-walk. Take turns choosing which way you turn at each junction in the road or trail. You never know where you'll end up!

8. Make a fairy house. Go outside with your kids, and notice that there are fairy folk about. Suggest that perhaps you can help them build a house, and start gathering twigs and bark, flowers and leaves. There is no right or wrong way to build for a fairy, so let your imaginations run free!

9. Find a dry spot and have a picnic. If your picnic starts with a walk through the woods, all the better. But it's wonderful (and more simple!) to take on your back porch, too. Don't forget the napkins!

10. Enjoy the sensory feast of a barefoot mud walk. Take off your shoes and seek out some squishy, cold mud. Dig in with your toes and watch the giggles (and the mess) take over your afternoon.

Thaw.

Spring has found it's way back.

The snow is gone (or almost). The leaves are pushing. The flowers are breaking through. Spring. My favorite time of all.

I enjoyed the last of the thaw at the cabin. (Yes, I made it for a partial weekend after all! After a bit everyone was clearly back to 100% and there was still time to go for a shortend visit.) We watched migrating swans, hiked through the melting snow in short-sleeved shirts, relaxed int the sunshine, and even found time to knit a few rows.

Welcome back, spring. I'm so glad you've returned.

Sometimes Time Stands Still.

There are these moments that we are blessed to observe during which time stands still. We don't hear our ringing telephones or beeping alarms, we don't notice the ticking of the clock, or the grumbling of our bellies. Even the chatter in our minds - of all the things we should be doing and aren't - is silenced. We hear with our hearts and the whole of our being the magic of this world beyond our walls. And we revel in being invited in to witness. We are blessed to simply observe it unfolding, and we are grateful.

The red-winged blackbirds are back.

And if it weren't for my girl, who said, "Mama, what's that noise? Come and listen." and led me to the door, and then said, "They sound like red-winged blackbirds, mama!" we might have missed it all together.

But we didn't.

We saw it, we heard it, we felt it in our souls. And we will never forget it. So many birds, singing that they were home once more. By dark this flock was gone. Scattering, each bird is off to find its own territory in the wetlands around my town. By tomorrow they'll be bickering over who's marsh is who's. But tonight, they sang.

Welcome home, gentlemen. Thanks for the incredible show.

Come Outside With Me.

Will you leave the laundry on the floor and the dishes in the sink and the toys where they lay? Will you follow me across the meadow and into the forest? If we put aside our burden of "shoulds" and our clocks and our distractions and simply follow the wind we might find magic waiting for us there. 

We'll pack a hasty picnic and eat it on a quilt spread in the tall grass. We can catch insects and explore seeds and pretend that we're hidden from all the world up here. Just us and the birds and the grasshoppers. We'll make forts and watch the milkweed seeds float across the sky. 

And then the forest will call us into her shadows. Will you crawl with me across the forest floor, searching for shells and seeds and mushrooms and gnomes? We will get dirt under our nails and scratches on our shins and burrs in our hair. But we might see signs a fairy house or a rainbow spider web or a snake that's bigger than me. Let's go explore...

We might miss bedtime and have to follow that big round moon to get back home but I don't mind. Because it will be a perfect day. And I wouldn't trade all that magic for all the clean dishes or folded laundry in the world.

xo

Rachel

Foraging is Good For My Soul.

When I go up north to my parents cabin, I think a lot about my mom's mom and dad, Grandma Lee and Grandpa Les. They lived next door to the cabin for almost all of my memories of them, retired alongside the Wolf River. My grandpa and I would pick blackberries until the backs of his hands bled, his skin thin with age, and the brambles so amazingly sharp. While we were at the cabin, I crept into his old backyard, now a summer cottage for some folks from the city, and picked his blackberries myself. Grandpa would have approved, and berries don't last so we went for it. I even found the seed pods from some Lupines that he and I planted decades ago, part of the reason we named our girl what we did. It was lovely.

But he and I didn't just pick berries. We also picked apples. There was an old farm just down the road, loaded with wild apple trees. We use to go there and fill the bed of his truck with apples for the deer, and plenty for ourselves. That old farm has changed hands a few times now, and every September I drive by staring wistfully past the "No Trespassing" signs to my favorite apples ever that grow along side the drive.

I decided this weekend to find out who owns the farm. Heck, maybe they'd let me pick. And I wanted to ask about taking a cutting someday when I have established trees of my own to graft onto. Clearly no one was picking the apples, as the ground was covered with them. I stopped and asked a neighbor who owns the old farm. "They moved out west. They never come back anymore." I told them about the apples and about my grandpa. "Pick all you want. The owners are friends and if anyone troubles you tell them we gave you permission to pick."

My heart lept. My apples!

Right then and there I jumped the fence and picked one from my favorite (now elderly) tree. It was just as good as I imagined. I tossed one to Lupine and she bit in, then closed her eyes and said, "It tastes like cake!" Yellow skin, pink blush, and medium-soft sweet-sour flesh. Yum.

I went back twice this wekeend and picked apples from the trees inside the farm fence. Lupine and I spend an afternoon there together. We picked apples, found a bird's nest full of babies, then found wild white sage, tansy, red, black, and white gooseberries, raspberry leaves and rose hips. We were both in our bliss. It was truly a perfect day with my girl. She loves it as much as I do.

I went back a second time, alone, and I picked and I picked and I picked. Apples for apple butter, storage, and for sauce. Heck, maybe even a crisp or two.

With wild apples like these (planted from seeds, not from garden starts) you have to taste your first apple to see if it is worth hauling any home. Hard? Soft? Really soft? Sweet? Chalky? Sour? And then take what you want. One tree, laden with perfect looking fruit gave apples that were so soft (even when under-ripe) I could stick my thumb in them. Gross.

But most were perfectly delicious. I kept marveling at how people actually buy apples, when driving by such (free!) abundance each day.

In all, this weekend alone we foraged:

• Wild Plums (questionable, but worth experimenting with)
• Rose Hips (for tea and jam)
• Raspberry Leaves (for tea)
• Sumac (for fiber dyes and for "lemonade")
• 50-plus pounds of wild apples
• Red, black, and white gooseberries
• White Sage, tansy, and yarrow for a wreath
• Blackberries (for fresh eating and jam)

I also saw plenty of our-of-season treats in the woods, including wild strawberries and raspberries. The abundance was amazing.

I'll share what we do with the bounty in the coming days!

How To: Make a Terrarium

A week at the cabin gives us so much time to just be present. Granted, our day-to-day life is spent mostly in a state of presence, but here at home we have toys. And abundant art supplies. And the distraction of friends. At the cabin it's just us and the woods and the river.

Lupine and I took a long walk with a big basket looking for... something. We found lots of labrador tea to harvest and dry for winter and plenty of red raspberry leaf (also to be dried for tea). We picked a bouquet of black eyed susans and brought back a few leaves to find in various field guides.

As we turned back toward the cabin on the dead end road we were on Lupine and I noticed a magical expanse of moss beneath some trees. We dropped to our knees and laid on our bellies and sat in amazement of this miniature forest.

Then I remembered a project I had seen somewhere (Where, I can not say. A quick Google search found several terrarium tutorials but not the one I had seen a few weeks ago.) Lupine and I gently wiggled our fingers down into the sandy soil and lifed up a few small pads of moss and other miniature plants. We placed them in our basket and headed down the road.

At the cabin we found a few empty jars in the pantry. Sage joined us and we set to work. There are many ways to make terrariums. Here is how we made ours.

1. Gather your moss. The holes you leave in the moss landscape will quickly refill as moss spreads from nearby plants, but do be conscientious of how much you take. Just enough please.

2. Dig a bit of soil. Moss prefers sandy soil but isn't fussy. Use what you find.

3. Mound a few pinches of soil in the lid of your jar. It need not be much as moss is shallow rooting. Scrape the soil away from the edge of the jar lid so that you can close your jar in a few minutes. 

4. Place the moss on top of the soil, pushing as needed away from the threads. You may want to add sculptural elements like shells, crystals, sticks, or stones.

5. When you are satisfied with your project give the moss a sprinkle of water. You need not soak it, but this is all the moisture that your terrarium will have, so moisten it until it feels soft but not muddy.

6. Gently nudge the moss away from the threads once more and screw on your jar. It will make a terrible sand-on-glass scratching noise. Normal. Don't fret. Crank that jar and marvel at your work.

Alternatively you can use a bottle as the base of your terrarium. The "jungle bottle" that Sage made is my favorite terrarium of the five we made. He followed the procedure here but laid everything out with the bottle on its side instead of in the lid He used his fingers and a stick to arrange everything the way he wanted it.

The terrariums steam up and look magical withing minutes and by morning we could see trails in the steam from some tiny insects living in the moss.

Free.

Natural.

Messy.

Fun.

That's my kind of project.