Eostre, goddess of springtime

"Each year on the day of the spring equinox, ancient Saxons in Germany celebrated a festival for the goddess of springtime, named Eostre.  Her earthly symbol was a rabbit.  Rabbits and eggs were symbols of rebirth.  Many Anglo-Saxons in England dyed eggs by boiling them with flower petals and leaves.  Brightly colored eggs represented the bright sun of springtime."  --From A New Beginning by Wendy Pfeffer  

I want my kids to grow up with a solid grounding of the seasons, steeped and soaked into their very bones.  We are lucky to live in a place with four very substantial, distinct seasons (okay, so winter does step on autumn and spring a bit).  A couple of weeks before the anticipated shift--winter solstice, spring equinox, summer solstice, autumnal equinox--the first changing of the guard in our house is the introduction of these two books for the coming season:  

The first is a lovely board book by Gerda Muller with earthy illustrations--no words--for each of the four seasons.

The second is for an older audience but there is still plenty I can read to a 2 and 4 year old.  By Wendy Pfeffer, the series details festivals and celebrations from across the world and over the centuries to mark the change in seasons (The Shortest Day, A New Beginning, The Longest Day, and We Gather Together).  There is a page on the solar system, and a few pages with crafts, experiments and activities.

I read them, my kids thumb through them, we talk about what each season means, what it brings.  Lately, with each tiny sign of spring Juniper announces, "Mom!  I found a ladybug!  The first ladybug of spring!  Yeah!"  Or worm, or blade of grass, or bumblebee, or daffodil shoot, or--in Hazel's case--the first wasp of spring landing in her Easter basket.  

^My mom sent me this dishtowel with my maternal great-grandmother's stitching.  It's hanging on the dining room wall.^

We also read "God Gave Us Easter" (another grandma spoil) even though it makes no sense to my kids, because I feel they should know that story too.  I do it with the same awkward hesitancy that my mom made us dress up and attend Easter service, the biannual church excursion of my childhood.

:: Anyway.  Easter this year was a little hampered by the fact that I couldn't move my head.  I woke up with a "kink in my neck" the Tuesday before Easter.  By Thursday afternoon I found myself with NPR plugged into my ears, blasting over the magnetic THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP of an MRI.  So while I had red cabbage, beets and tumeric just waiting to be turned into dye baths, we opted for the instamatic experience of grocery store PAAS and I didn't have to bend my head to chop cabbage.        

  

Our town is tiny and doesn't have much going on, so when there is an event, we try to go.  We hit up the annual town Hunger Games, I mean bloodbath, ahem, Easter egg race...hunt...doh!  

  ^Before the fire siren.^  And after:  

Hazel was inside with friends in the 0-3 room, Juniper outside with me on the 4-6 lawn.  Juniper surprised me with her physical prowess.  She was a regular Katniss Everdeen, leaping deftly to the middle, swiftly pouncing eggs, but courteously stepping back if another kid got there first.  I thought the madness of it and the bigger kids would send her to tears, but afterwards she was red-cheeked, smiling and pumped on adrenalin.  It lasted 60 seconds and this is the best picture I could get ^.  Between the girl with the yellow dress and the boy with the purple shirt, you might see Juniper's red hairband and her basket on the ground.  She made out with a good haul.    

:: Easter morning.  Another of the grandma (they have three) spoils was this basket for Juniper, which belonged to my paternal grandmother, and the rice-stuffed mouse with fur-lined ears she had made for my step-mom years ago.  My grandma has been gone for twelve years, but I love that my kids can run their fingers over the same things she did.           

:: The Hunt.  Remember the crocheted eggs?  They make an appearance every year, though I do need to make another batch for this second kid.    

We had a pretty sly Easter bunny this year.  Hazel often needed some pointers.  

We always find the most precarious robin nests around our home.  A lovely Easter surprise.  

Do you see the egg?  

True to Katniss Everdeen--Juniper helps her little sister.  "Look Hazel!  Over here!  Come quick!"  

The morning spoils.  Hardboiled eggs, jelly bellies, chocolate bunnies, and some tiny knitted creatures.  

One of the many, many ways in which these sisters are so different: Hazel eats her candy all at once (unless we intervene).  Juniper saves hers (and then forgets about it).  

Best Easter gift was Nana showing up that evening, loaded with Easter spoils and ready to bake, read, and pretend, pretend, pretend.   

P.S.  I know it's been almost a month and I still haven't posted pics from our coastal clamming vacation.  You know me.  It's coming.      

Solstice tide and making merry

(Happy New Year!  Here's to 2014!  I started this post a few days ago and am just now finishing it up after a sparkling new year's party here at the house--we celebrated around Icelandic time.)  

:: Solstice Tide:  

^Town sleigh-rides for the kids after visiting with Santa Claus.^

If Christmas seasons in the past have ended in the mental equivalent of hair-pulling rush-hour traffic, this year was like floating a slow, meandering river with just a little class 2 rapid right near the apex.  This was in part due to lowering my own expectations, realizing we don't have to have ALL our solstice traditions laid out RIGHT NOW, and that the whole point is to take it easy, be with family and friends, give, feast, light candles and celebrate getting over the hump of dark, winter days.

Also, for the first time since I was a naive kid, I was comfortable celebrating Christmas.  For years, since the original airing of that Seinfeld episode, my family has celebrated "Festivus for the Rest of Us."  This season, I've been reading "The Winter Solstice: The Sacred Traditions of Christmas" which has made me feel so much more connected to the holiday even though I wasn't, truly, raised Christian.  Turns out, pretty much every single tradition associated with Christmas has been going on for a hell of a long time before Jesus.  Every. Single. One.  Santa (this folklorist links to early shamans), reindeer, gift-giving, evergreen boughs, mistletoe, the 12 days, feasting, even the birth of a "Midwinter Wonder Child" is pre-christian.

As a kid I remember starring for what seemed like hours (but was probably seconds) at my mom's nativity scene.  This is the first time in my adult life I have set up a nativity scene (a hand-me-down from family).  My kids loved it.  And really, it's such a common, life-affirming scene: everyone fawning over a newborn baby.  Not once did I get an uncomfortable squirm in my belly at celebrating the birth of baby Jesus.  I am applauding myself for getting over it.

 In the end it's all about one thing: getting past the hump of a disappearing sun and witnessing that life-giving star spend more time in the sky and less time sunk into the earth.  Oh, I have so many ideas for our Solstice Tide traditions in future years!  (But it's not over yet!  The 12 days of Christmas begins on Christmas day and ends on the twelfth night of January 5th.  So technically folks, you shouldn't take down your tree or your lights until January 6th.  Just sayin.  And did you know those twelve days are the reconciliatory difference between the lunar and solar calendars?)  Fascinating stuff, I tell you.

:: Making Merry:

From wool felt and with the help of a certain 4-year-old, I finally stitched together a "sun-star" for our Christmas tree.  We've never had one and for the last two years Juniper has wanted a star atop our tree.  We hope to embellish with glitzy beads in years to come.  

 My kids found magic and wonder in decorating the tree.  But the magic doesn't stop there.  They re-decorate the tree daily.  Hazel stands under it and in her adorably flat, loud, monotone singing voice, she rings out: "OH KISSMAS TEE!  YO LEAVES SO UNCHANGING!"

:: Speaking of trees, we cut ours Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation style.  Which is to say, we went into the woods, picked out a tree, cut it down, made snow-angles, and then...the back of the truck topper was frozen shut.  Us girls all sat in the back seat with a subalpine fir in our laps.

:: I made the kids almost-matching reversible skirts.

:: The kids made cookie-cutter ornaments then painted and decorated with glue and glitter.

:: Grandparents came and joined in the merry-making.

:: Grandpa encouraged independent decal-placement on early-opened gifts.

:: Cookies with Grandma L, of course!

^Juniper and friend Q.^

:: Juniper and I had our first, true, mother-daughter date.  On Solstice, I took her to see a refreshingly non-traditional ballet production of "The Princess and the Pea."  I am happy that her first theatre experience was a live performing art.  She LOVED it.  She was a star audience member and whispered questions in my ear, wanting to understand the storyline at all times.  Since then, every few nights (tonight, for instance) she asks us to place a pea under her mattress.  She feels it, of course, and will announce in the morning that she must be a princess.  As for me, I likely haven't been to a ballet production since I went with my mother.  Love this tradition.  Thanks, mom.

  
:: Santa came to town and a star-struck Juniper was led down the aisle by her friend K, all the while covering her glistening eyes with a tree frog.  It took her a minute, then she gave him a hug and at my prompting, talked about how she was Santa for Halloween (but then forgot to tell him what she wanted for Christmas).  As for Hazel, she wanted nothing to do with him, but happily sat on my lap next to him.      

After visiting with Santa, each kid received a hand-crocheted hat and scarf made by a single woman on the town council.  Amazing!  

:: In keeping with the last two years, Juniper loves Christmas music and now Hazel too.  They skip around the house singing and dancing and jingling bells.  J bug's preschool class went caroling, but I don't know if she sang a single word under the spotlight.

:: For months, if you asked Juniper what she wanted for Christmas, she responded with an unwavering: "I want a roller-bag!"  When asked what she would do with a rollerbag, she'd respond, "Go to the airport!"  And if you asked where she was going, she'd say, "Cambodia!"  She talked about this so much that her preschool teacher pulled me aside one day and excitedly asked if we were planning a trip to Cambodia.  Hazel, she just wanted a candy cane.  (Although Santa knows sisters prefer to travel together.)

I had planned to make sparkly oats to leave for the reindeer again, but Juniper wisely suggested carrots and lettuce instead.  Both kids picked exactly which cookies we'd leave out for Santa--he got the biggest, most sprinkle-encrusted cookies ever.  I think he was happy about it.

Up next: Christmas, New Year's and the last hurrah!