Outside on a day like today...

I just finished up a couple of exhausting and, as usual, humbling migraine-y days that began with a lot of pre-migraine symptoms, which were then followed by the actual migraine and then more actual migraine and then some crazy post-migraine, which was mainly just more exhaustion and not nearly enough a-ha-ing, for my taste. (A-ha-ing being one of the better side-effects of the migraine state of mind.) The pre-migraine this time had a lot to do with not being able to focus and feeling just very generally overwhelmed and done, and coming after Christmas- what turned out to be a very hectic-feeling Christmas for me, at that- it was a bit much. And part of that day was spent at Toys R Us. Right.

So, today was a huge relief and I spent a good bit of it outside doing yard work, cleaning up the patio, and raking leaves in the back on the patio and in the front in the foyer, which feels so clean and open now. All of that raking I put off back in October and November to either spend time with Maxwell or mourn Maxwell's passing has been- at least in part- taken care of and well worth putting off.

It was exhilarating being outside in the December sunshine with the geese flying overhead, particularly after the migraine was over. There tends to be, for me, a lovely sense of calm and clarity after a migraine that I wholeheartedly appreciate. A bit of silver-lining after the storm, if you will. Being outside really accentuates this feeling, what with the other creatures around me continuing on with it all and the enduring beauty of the world, punctuated {today} by circling seagulls and my rescuing of any number of stranded worms after I had raked up their adopted habitats. These are the sorts of things that will keep my eyes misty and searching on a day like today.

In between bits of sunshine, we had some *very* wintry weather, complete with the longest hail storm I have ever witnessed, or so it seemed at the time. This was followed by several variations on the theme of frozen-water-falling-from-the-sky, including {what I would label as} sleet, a little freezing rain, some slush and then a bit of regular rain. We are supposed to get some actual snow tonight, which would be fun, but I would enjoy an ice storm as well. If it's going to be impossible to drive around here, it might as well be as lovely as it can be. (Winter! Go ahead and pull out all of the stops. I know you are nearly done here in Oregon, as far as any freezing temperatures go {really} and ready to return to rain at any moment.)

Merry Christmas!

Two more pictures from our holiday walkabout in downtown Portland-



Samuel and I near Pioneer Square.



Eva and Samuel with the reindeer at Santa Land.

portland christmas

I forgot to post about our Christmas-y holiday day downtown. The day was clear and sunshine-y. I think. At least I remember it that way. It must have been a little bit like that to get us out there walking around. It was also warmish, as in there would be no snow anytime soon, but coldish {enough} to warrant a stop at Stumptown for coffee and hot chocolate {for Eva, who, by the way, thought the hot chocolate was better than Starbucks, but not as good as the hot chocolate she drank a week later at the Elephant deli we discovered after Shoemaker and the Elves.} Then we walked up to the Benson Hotel to look at the Gingerbread exhibit, which was fun, but smaller than I had envisioned it. Although, after thinking about it a bit and reading the little info-flier the concierge gave me, I had to admit it was something else. The chef made a small part of the city of Venice and hid three or four holiday figure made of mascarpone among the buildings and streets. The kids found those and we walked around the hotel a bit and looked at their decorations. We also took in the decorations of the National Bank across the street.

And then it was off to Santa Land at Macy's and over to Pioneer Square to see the big tree. We ate tacos at a restaurant nearby and ended our walk about with some pomegranate-raspberry frozen yogurt from one of the food carts nearby, which I had been dreaming about since the last time Eva and I tried it.





The kids had a lot of fun looking at the ornaments outside of Santa Land.

All of that shopping going on indoors, here's what's going on outdoors.



A little sandbox optimism. Life continuing on wherever it finds itself, even {or is it especially?} in the wintry muck that is our sandbox this time or year.



And underneath, it's a mossy wonderland.

holiday zen

We went out today to do some last minute Christmas shopping, which I am usually completely opposed to doing. I do not like to venture out into crowds during normal life, much less during the holidays. Still, it had to be done, and I went out into it with my eyes wide open, aware that there would be crowds and traffic and other things I normally keep at bay by choosing to go to the woods instead of the mall whenever possible.

Need I even say that we ran into crowds? So many people. Lots of shopping. Spending. Traffic. {The traffic was un-be-liev-able. Memorable, even. Making a left hand turn proved to be next to impossible and I decided that my good deed for the day was to let anyone who was trying to make a left hand turn in front of me, be allowed to do so. Those people needed all the help they could get.} The kids and I fared pretty well, I think. I am feeling the effects of it all now with the customary thick-headed feeling I get when I am overloaded, but I managed to get through it with a mostly upbeat feeling- maybe because I knew what I was getting myself into before I started? Not sure. What I do know is that I appreciated {when I noticed} each and every bit of holiday cheer, smile, each look of recognition at this state of affairs we all found ourselves in. Each bit of consideration helped to offset the push and rush that *is* the holiday season.

Not to say that this is the meaning of the holiday season. Far from it. And yet, we continue to do it, at least in part, to prepare for the meaning. Our meaning. Whatever that may be. At some point, each of us {mostly} finds ourselves out-in-it, to a greater or lesser degree, depending. Being able to notice the humanity in this shared experience- to notice each other!- I have found, can make all the difference. Being able to create meaning and bring awareness where traditionally we have been taught there is none is a gift each of can give to one another, if not all the time- let's be realistic!- at least once. Then again. And again. The baby you smile at. The woman who says excuse me. The check out woman who winked at my son while we waited in line. The man who waited until Eva got into the car before pulling out and then waved to all of us with a smile. The woman, so grateful, who was able to finally! make her left-hand turn. These things change the face of our day. These things make a difference. And while we bemoan the consumerism and traffic and spending and crowds as most definitely not the meaning of this season, these acts of kindness and grace we can each be a part of during this time of overwhelm, most definitely are the meaning- at least some of the meaning- of this season. Of every season we find ourselves apart of.

At least these thoughts helped me through most of the day- the bulk of a potentially trying situation. Now I am going to take a hot bath and hope that this will pick up where my good intentions left off. At least I don't have to go out into that mess again tomorrow. I probably- to be honest- don't have to go shopping like that until next Christmas. If at all. If only I could get my planning just right, I might never have to go shopping again...

solstice cookies

It's looking like it might be possible for us to see at least some of the lunar eclipse tonight. (I love that the last time this happened- a lunar eclipse of a full moon on the winter solstice- was in 1638!) The kids and I just went and checked on the moon and it was still there. We could see it, that's for sure, which bodes well for us being able to see it again at another point in the next few hours. It is fairly overcast but a glimpse is all we need.

Eva and I had an impromptu mini-solstice celebration tonight. We rolled out some gingerbread dough, made lots of gingerbread men and families, hearts, snowmen and the the like, and even hung some on the tree. This is something we did when I was a kid and I love the tradition. It is also an easier tradition (and one that others are willing to undertake with me) than the other one I love, hanging stringing popcorn and cranberries. When I was a kid, we used to string several strands of popcorn and cranberries in anticipation of the tree. They would be hanging across all of the tables in the kitchen and dining room, and even off of some chairs, before we were done. Alas, no one, not even myself, can be urged to string them these days. It seems like we've done them a few times over the years, but nothing like hanging cookies on the tree.

Of course, when we hang the cookies on the tree, we have to make sure we hang them high enough so that Jack won't eat them all. One year he nibbled most of several cookies that a toddler Eva had hung on the lower half of the tree. That year had to have been a boon for him, one I am sure he looks back on with fond memories, or a belly ache, because he ate A LOT of cookies. It is a hoot to watch him try and eat the hanging cookies without falling into the tree, which is a liability of the project for him and one that will happen if he leans too far in and tries to eat the whole cookie. He must leave just enough cookie so that he doesn't have to lean too far, but not too much that he feels he isn't getting enough cookie. And then he juts his lips out, and his teeth out, and gingerly grabs hold of said cookie, gently pulling it toward him, nibbling off as much as he is able. Then it's on to the next one. And the next. This year I've already found one Jack-eaten-cookie on the tree. Eva hung most of them up higher than he can reach and he's having to do some detective work to find a few that he can stretch up to. I almost want to make it a little easier for him, if only to catch a video of the scene.



Incidentally, the kids and I only got to see the very beginnings of the eclipse last night, which actually was really nice and a good visual to help them imagine what was to come. We even stayed awake- mostly- to see if we could see more later. It began to rain, though, and stayed overcast for the next several hours and is still overcast this morning. I was wondering about the people who lived here back when the last eclipse on the solstice full moon happened. I wondered if they had a clear night to view the eclipse. What kind of celebration they had. And if they knew that we would be here so many years later, hoping to catch a glimpse of the eclipse and wondering about them. When I told Samuel how long ago the last eclipse like this had been, he became very excited and wanted us to keep going out to check. He even went out himself once, sometime very close to 11:30, "We have to do this," he said. "I didn't realize we were making history!"

shoemaker and the elves

We went and saw the Shoemaker and the Elves today with the Tears of Joy Theater in downtown Portland. The kids and I see quite a few plays and musicals and such during school performances during the week. Seeing one on a Sunday afternoon was fun. Next door, the Oregon Symphony was playing Handel's Messiah and the streets around the Oregon Performing Arts buildings were packed with people dressed up for the holidays. There was a festive air and I was in one of my moods where I really enjoy seeing what people have chosen, who they are out in the world. The man who chose the yellow running shoes, for instance, and the woman who chose the long purple coat. Who is going to the symphony? Who has chosen the puppet show? Many of the people at the puppet show were families with children, often small children, but there were quite a few people there without children as well.

So I'll be honest, one of the reasons I chose to take the kids to the this show on a Sunday was because it has become increasingly difficult to work with the Tears of Joy Theater people as far as getting tickets to their school performances for homeschoolers. There are a few organizations like the Northwest Children's Theater and the Oregon Ballet Theater who make it very easy. I can call them up and order three tickets to see any of their shows during the day when they have a school performance. Other venues, like Do Jump and the Oregon Children's Theater, are willing to sell tickets to homeschoolers for their school performances, but there is a minimum number of tickets we have to buy, usually ten. And others, like the Tears of Joy Theater, used to let us buy tickets in groups of ten but have become increasingly rigid on this point and will now {mostly} only sell to the very largest homeschool organizations like Village Home.

I buy a lot of my tickets to different shows from a fellow homeschooling mom, but even she, who often buys in large quantities, was not able to buy tickets from Tears of Joy this time around. (I know, because I specifically asked about Shoemaker...) So she stopped trying. And I wonder if the people at Tears of Joy understand that there is a whole section of the population out here who has basically given up on seeing productions from them, whose kids are not going to see their puppet shows? I chose to spend the extra money to see the Shoemaker and the Elves this time because it's the holidays and because I really love that story and {I'll be honest again} because Tears of Joy has a tendency toward moralizing in the stories they choose, in my opinion, and I didn't think there would be very much room for that in Shoemaker.

And I was right. In fact, it was one of the first things that Samuel mentioned when we left the theater. He had, apparently, been trying to figure out which moral angle they would take with this story and was relieved that they had decided to just stick with the good deed and the thrilling gratitude. So the kids and I talked about the show and morals and the characters. Samuel, I would say, enjoyed the show and the characters the most of the three of us. Eva and I were not quite as taken with the elves as Samuel was (mischief making elves who even Santa had to let go...). And I have to say, after hearing Samuel go on and on about how much he enjoyed them and remembering how much he had laughed aloud at their antics during the show, I was doubly happy I had gotten the tickets for us. We ended our afternoon out with hot chocolate, coffee and snowman sugar cookies.