autumn is coming

It's just three weeks away, and I've been thinking a lot about being more conscious about the shifting seasons with my two littles.  I've also been thinking about how to make my own seasonal goals, with wellness and making in mind.  So I've decided to make myself a little checklist, and we'll see, come December 21, how I have done:

1.  In the kitchen, I hope I will have continued to keep the following at bay:  caffeine, alcohol, fried foods, red meat.  I hope I will have also transitioned to keeping white sugar at bay as well too, with the reminder to myself and all that this doesn't mean I will never have any of these things, but that having these things will be very rare.  For instance, we'll see what gets made, but there just might be sugar in that birthday cake of mine!  I also want to see my vegetable consumption continue to rise and to have a bit of a ritual going with making sure I get all the servings I need.  By December 21, I hope I will start to spread that ritual to my children more as well.  (Must start with self before I can start with others, I know.  Both at once might be a bit too teetery.)  Water, too.  More water.  More cleansing.

2.  In my hands, I have a few handmade projects I want to make sure are done, though I can't say what those things are, as they will be gifts:  a something for Kelly, a quilt for Maya, a quintet of creatures made from Jim's old shirts for the grandkids, I have a plan for my mother's birthday (which is the same day as my own), and myriad presents for the holidays.  I also would like to have a hand in Maya's Halloween costume, and maybe Finn's (though I think my mother has a plan), and I do have the fabric and pattern ready for the solstice.

3.  I'm learning how to dye yarn, and I have a class in October, but if I want to use bits from nature, I have to harvest now, and I have to do it wisely.  I hope to have dyed with walnut, goldenrod, and sumac, and anything that comes up in the class, I'll add to that growing list.

4.  I hope to add daily exercise to my routine.  I'm thinking about trying yoga before everyone gets up.  I made the mistake of trying yoga while my kids were awake, but Maya just ended up doing the same poses as me, just underneath my body, or twisted around me, which is fine, but if I'm trying to get some serious movement in, this isn't the way to do it.  Perhaps something quiet in the morning solo and something sparked in the afternoon with my two littles.

5.  My friend Emily is involved in essential oils and using them therapeutically.  I'd like to learn more about that, and she's talked to me about some of the basics of selling them too.  I just might join her in becoming a spokesperson for this particular company; I want to test them out for myself, though I trust her experiences, and they have been good.  I'm really looking forward to replacing a lot of what's in my medicine cabinet with something more natural.

Autumn is going to be a little harder than any other season this year, I think.  I'll be stepping in for maternity leave for a woman who teaches two composition courses online, Tinderbox will publish on the equinox and the solstice, and I'm looking at applying to Ph.D programs.  Maya is in her first full year of preschool and she starts dance as well.  Finn is in that toddler stage that involves few words but lots of energy. 

The wonderful thing:  I'm getting energy back now.  I'm eating so much better.

And right now, I'm watching my son as he picks apart an apple he somehow manages to pull from the fruit bowl on the table.  He's saying to me, "six, seven, go!"  (After "giving five" a dozen times in a row.)  My daughter is tired and cranky, and there are apple bits all over the carpet.  I'm knitting my way through a cotton cone and reading A Constellation of Vital Phenomena when I find the time.  I'm going to get myself back into the sticky fray and enjoy collecting walnuts with the kiddos.

May 2007, Hay Creek

It is so strange to me to look at this first documented trip to Hay Creek.  I think our pup Zephyr was only a few months old here, and Penelope just a year.  Now, Penny sports a raccoon's eyes and white muzzle and she limp for a bit after charging around the creek like this.  Sometimes I think of rewinding, of watching this again.  I know that we all have these cycles and they're what it's all about, but to see this, to see all this energy--oh, it's sweet, and I feel a little yearn-y for it, just like I do when I see my babies fresh from the womb.

We had a lot more land to streak across.  Now that's all built up--it's a tall hill of sand.  And that last photograph--I had forgotten they paved the paths here, so in the beginning, there were tracks of dirt.  Now we have to watch for bikers zipping by before we tumble into the woods.

It's our go-to spot now.  Has been, every warm month. 

a few weeks ago, hay creek

We found this place by accident seven or eight years ago.  We were looking for a regular park to take our dogs to, and we guessed at the turns, stumbling here instead.  It looks so different now from our first forays into the creek, photos of which I'll resurrect over time.

It's strange to think about it then, when our dogs were so youthful and peppy and we hadn't even married yet.  Children?  Not even a concept for us.  And here's this gorgeous late summer trip we've made, and Maya is old enough to really start digging into the landscape.

We've got ourselves a good collection of water shoes and pants we don't mind destroying, so we get right into the creek and walk up and down as far as our littles can tolerate.  I've always got that camera of mine and quite a few times, I'll squat in that chilly water to get a new angle. 

I think of this as a kind of way of flower-pressing.  Maya brings me flowers sometimes from preschool walks and she'll ask me to put them in my poetry book.  She knows I fold a lot of plant life into my books, and she's sweet enough to want to fill them with me.  But we can't keep and press everything, and it's sweet enough to leave what we can so the ecosystem can continue changing in its own way.

 She gets her great energy from her father's side, but I think curiosity runs strong on both sides.  I'm hoping to see enough changes in me that mean keeping up, that mean clamoring up tough slopes.  Even at my best, I wasn't at where I imagine I'd like to be; I've always been most comfortable on the sofa scrutinizing a book.  I'm willing to change in small, good ways.