Is it December, Already? It's the Solstice Anti-Party Party!

Many writers are preparing their seasonal holiday articles for the October/November/December crush of holiday articles. So I'm getting a jump on everyone and writing mine now.

My nuclear family (husband, son, daughter) and our extended family of friends (about 50 or 60 people), celebrate the winter solstice on December 21st or 22nd, rather than Christmas or Chanukah or Kwanzaa or the “secular holiday party” with Christmas lights and reindeer decorations.

We host a gathering at our home which starts mid-morning and lasts until the wee hours. It is a non-party party. Historically, in European cultures, the winter solstice was celebrated on the shortest day of the year to call back the sun. This was also one of the few major gatherings in the year for tribal people and people who lived in hamlets, on farms, and in tiny villages, and were otherwise separated from socializing outside of the family most of the year.

We recreate, in a modern way, the gathering of clans and communities, friends, families, and strangers. Coming together to socialize, woo, trade, celebrate, marry, and tell stories was the highlight of the year.

Our solstice party begins when we build a great fire in the fireplace which will be kept burning until the sun rises again the following day. Upon arrival, each guests lights a candle on the mantel of our concrete fireplace. We provide a plethora of tea lights, pillars, and such for allow for personal choice. The fireplace was made of concrete, using branches leaves, ferns and grasses from our yard. The impression left behind was colored by a concrete artist and the entire effect is kind of cave-paintingy, now that I think about it.

Our guests come when they are available. Some bring children in the morning or after nap. Some come alone, while others bring the whole clan, including their own visitors. Neighbors we see rarely, best friends, new friends, practitioners, clients, and anyone else who hears about it is invited to join us.

We provide a glorious spread of salmon (we live in the PNW, after all), salads, breads, cheeses, nuts (in the shell), root vegetable dishes, cider, wine, bubbly, and chocolate. Of course, our guests may bring something to contribute, but we make sure to have plenty for all. The idea is to gather everyone together to eat and tell stories, to laugh and flirt and celebrate life. Life comes from the sun and to call it back, we celebrate to send it our strength and life energy.

To further connect with the history and ceremony of the day, we provide a stack of library books all on the topic of storytelling, poetry myths, folktales, tall tales, fairy tales, and such, for anyone to pick up and read at any time. Some read aloud to the group or to children, while others read to themselves or not at all. It isn’t required.

Our other activity is very hands-on for the kids who celebrate with us. We make pine cone birdfeeders to hang in our yard and for guests to take home and hang in their yards.

Throughout the year, I gather the large kind of pine cones that aren’t produced by our own coniferous giants here in the Pacific Northwest. Whether at a yard sale or craft store, I can always find them cheap in the summer.

The kids and parents tie a green twine onto the pine cone and then we glob a fatty spread between the leaves of the dried cones. Because peanut allergies exist within our circle of friends, we use organic shortening to coat the pine cones (the kids only lick their fingers once). After rolling them sticky cones in an assortment of birdseed, we wrap the whole thing in newspaper and set them with the kids’ shoes to be taken home later.

Every year, the kids ask to do this project. It’s so simple and so messy.

Sometimes folks ask for a telling of this story of the solstice, so I talk a bit about it. It’s really an easy, comfortable, fun, not-dressed-up, no stress way to celebrate amid the wacky frenzy that December has become today.

Think about doing something easy like this when you start stressing out over what to wear, serve, say, and who to invite, avoid, feed, and keep out of the booze.

Cheers!

Welcome Baby!

My brother's wife had a 7.10 lb. baby girl last week! Yippee! This is the baby he has wanted for about 25 years. She was born healthy and cute and everything good.

Then, this week, she stopped moving and was rushed to the ER, where she stopped breathing, and started up again on her own, several times. TERROR.

It turns out she was dehydrated, and is just fine now. Whew! One of the risks of breastfeeding is not being able to determine how much milk the baby is getting. She lost a pound in 24 hours (that's very bad) and gained it back in a day or two via IV drips and bottle feeding (that's very good).

The whole episode gave me flashbacks of my (now one-year-old) daughter's infancy. We had to bring her to the ER a couple times in the first 3 months. The first time was on her actual due date with meningitis. Yes, it was terrifying, completely, terrifying. She was born 5 weeks early, after trying to be born 10 weeks early. Little stinker put me in the hospital for a month on bedrest. Dragola. She survived the meningitis because there are 2 kinds: Viral Meningitis is usually caused by cold germs or something else equally common, and is beatable with IV fluids and round-the-clock care; Bacterial Meningitis is the deadly one. Don't get it.

So, happy birthday, Brooke! Welcome to the world and don't get sick again! We can't take the stress!

P.S. - My little peach has just started walking, putting on hats, and trying to drink from her bother's sippy cups. At 22 lbs., she's ready to have her car seat turned around and likes climbing into bed with her brother when he's trying to sleep.

Staycation at Seabrook

Okay, so it wasn’t technically a staycation; we drove for 3 ½ hours to get there, but it was in-state.

So we loaded up the truck and we moved to Beverleee…no wait. Packing the CRV and driving off with a big red wagon, a folding, three-seat couch thingy, and a giant umbrella strapped on top of the car felt rather like we needed a granny up there to complete the picture. I guess I’d rather resemble a Beverly Hillbilly than a Joad from the Grapes of Wrath.

So Ma and Pa and our 2 chillin’ drove and drove the highways and byways of Washington state, through (de)forests and a plethora of inky-dinky towns, the existence of which is proven only by a tavern or a sign post.

Our destination was Seabrook. A Stepfordesque town in the middle of the woods by the sea. This little clump of houses calls itself a town, but so far it’s still only partway completed. There are many signs planted in clumps of scrubby beach trees and bushes announcing that “this spot is the future site of…” Someday, there will be a pool and a retail center and a grocery store, and who knows what else. For now, though, it’s a few streets of super-cute houses alongside empty, muddy lots that are in the works to build more homes. There are no yards. Every house is completely enclosed with a short, attractive wood fence. There’s just enough room for decks and porches and hot tubs. The well-tended green spaces are all shared, just like the bikes and the sports equipment.

We stayed in the plush and trendy, barn red Hodgepodge Lodge. With Crate and Barrel plates and Reed & Barton flatware, this is a house furnished by folks who like to shop. It was very comfortable and not too breakable; we just moved a few glass doodads into the closets no one uses.

A fun bonus: we placed a blowup mattress in the walk-in closet for our son. He’s almost 3 and he loved having his own little room.

The best parts of the trip? The outdoor hot tub and the master bathtub. Deep, hot water. Pure heaven for me. We also loved the plethora of sporty beach bikes available for anyone to grab for a lazy cycle around the development. Extra goodies that make it even better: Moseying over to Crescent Park, picnicking at benches under the big white tent. Playing on the swings and climbing toy, and playing volleyball, badminton, soccer and kid-size baseball with all the provided sports equipment, followed by ambling over to the little café for dinner. Then, ambling back home and watching the Olympics in the “media room.”

The downside to this trip was THE FOG. Grey, wet, clammy, hot, fuggy, muggy, view?-what-view?, effing, flipping, incoherent roaring fog. It pretty much ruined the whole trip for me. We never actually saw the beach, even though we played on the beach, walked on the beach, jogged on the beach, built a ginormous sandcastle on the beach…we did it all in an eery, grey world with no depth perception and no way to judge size or distances. Seagulls standing in an inch of water looked as big as cars. Humans swam in and out of sight in just a few steps. My brave friend Jen ran up and down the beach for exercise and had to use the giant sandcastle as her only landmark. Even that was easy to miss if you were too close to the water or too close to the dunes.

I only walked on the beach and left all the fun-having to the friends and family that were with us. I grumped and bitched and snapped at everyone until, after a serious amount of ragging from 2 excellent friends, I realized that the fog had triggered a major SAD moment for me. Ooh, thanks. Once I realized that the fog was corrupting my perception of everything I had a much better time. Unfortunately, that realization came too late in the weekend to prevent a nasty moment between my hub and me. We got over it.

With no way to guarantee sunshine, I don’t know if we’ll ever go back to Seabrook. In another 5 or 10 years, it is going to be something really cool. Right now, it’s pretty spendy and you can’t really go anywhere on the bikes, just around and around. I can see its appeal for sure. The house are so darn cute; no two are alike! It’s safe. Kids can pretty much ride around without fear. Several houses take dogs.

If you can handle the weather, it’s a great destination when you want to stay close to home and still get away. But for now, I’ll just stay home and not pay for the fog we get in our own back yard.

Today I Start Ritalin

Did I even spell that right? I’m 41 years old (that’s forty-one, not fourteen)and only just found out that I have a “whopping” ADHD score. That’s a quote from my psychiatrist. My long-time friends have all said, “Well, no duh!” and “What? You’re surprised?”

Funny, isn’t it, that we blame ourselves our whole lives for not living up to our (shudder) potential. I was a crappy student (way back in the 80’s) and got no end of guff from teachers and parents about how I could be so much better than I was. So nice to hear. “You have such potential to be a good student. You have such potential to be pretty. You have such potential…” I will never, ever, ever use that word around my children. Yes, I’m sure they do have great potential to be many things. But what and who they are right now is more important than what they could be in the future, don’t you think? I do.

So, this past year has been this big exploration into how to fix me. “Let’s make Suzanne happy again!” I’ve been on Zoloft for a few years, moved on to Welbutrin a few months ago, and now I’ve added Ritalin. What is wrong with our world that we can’t be happy when we live in the land of plenty? We have the opportunity to eat easily and cheaply, educate ourselves, speak our minds, choose any industry in which to work, live in any city we like, vote (debatably successful as it may be right now, keeping in mind Florida’s lost ballots in the last election). And yet, we are a miserable society. We live so fast; we live instantaneously. We don’t even vacation leisurely. My little family is going to the shore this weekend. We’re driving almost 4 hours to stay 3 nights and drive back. We’re power vacationing, like power napping. Fast and furious, we charge around achieving and doing. I’m hoping that the Ritalin will help me focus enough to chronicle its effects on me over the next few weeks and months.

God, I love to just sit and read. Even writing about how busy we are is making me jumpy. Or that could be the first dose of Ritalin having its way with me. Hard to tell right now. Looming over me is the threat of all the packing I have to do in the next 4 or 5 hours to accommodate 2 adults, 1 toddler, 1 baby, 3 nights indoors, 2 days at the beach, and 7-8 hours driving.

Here’s a partial list of things to pack in our car.

Big red wagon for dragging kids and crap to beach and back, beach toys, something for shade on the beach, bathing suits and extra suits, beach towels, hats, sunscreen, aloe, chairs, coolerish container, clothes for me, clothes for Hub, clothes for almost-three-year-old, clothes for one-year-old, shoes and sandals for all, water bottles (stainless steel, not plastic), toys for car ride, toys for indoor playing between trips to beach, games for grownups, FOOD for 3 breakfasts, 3 lunches and 3 dinners, snacks, drinks, sunglasses, water shoes, mesh bag to carry wet stuff back to house, books for all…

We opted not to bring the kayaks. We’d have had to bring 2 cars. Gas is costly enough for one car.

Wish me luck! I’ll be back next week.
Cheers!