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Happy & merry to all of you!

It has been a BUSY week. (Thank you for all the well wishes!) I’ve somewhat recovered from the most horrible sinus infection/fever combo I have ever had. The word misery does not even serve it justice. Seriously awful.

But, I’m mostly better, and we had a wonderful Christmas. I made baked pears in wine with orange zest and served them with mascarpone, toasted walnuts and chocolate, on Christmas Eve. Delicious. Bean was rediculously cute Christmas morning. Eyes WIDE, wide, wide. We used tissue paper and colorful ribbons to make the unwrapping that much more fun–and it was. He’s been playing with his toys non-stop ever since (a wooden kitchen, a Plan City parking garage, lincoln logs and tinker toys were the big ones.)

Yesterday we went skiing and I am finally good enough to not be horrible, and I love the thrill of zipping down the mountain carving great curves in the snow. I’m still pretty terrible, but no longer terribly afraid and that makes all the difference. In fact, I LOVE it. DH also gave me a gift certificate for a climbing class in January, and I am thrilled to get back on the wall. I haven’t climbed in years now, and I miss it.

For the month of January I’ve decided I’m going to do some art every day & post it here. Anyone want to join me? It’s so easy over the holidays to get all blurry around the edges. To forget to focus inward, even though I think that’s what the heart of wintertime should be all about. I’m looking forward to having a commitment to create something every day, as my life seems to be chronically busy of late, and I’ve been struggling to stay focused amidst the tornado of things that clamor for my attention daily. I haven’t done any art in months, and I miss that part of myself. If you want to join me, respond in the comments and I’ll make a special sidebar links for Everyday Art in January.

I keep thinking I’ll wake up and feel better–but whatever I have decided to kick it to me. I am STILL sick with a fever, and feel generally misearable. My brain feels like a dust bunny. I cannot think straight, let alone post anything coherent. Gah.

I’ve been sick. A major yucky head cold + fever combo that has left me wimpy and whining watching re-runs on TV. I hate being sick. Especially around the holidays. To distract you from the abundant LACK of posting going on around here, pretty pictures:

My boys whispering in the early morning light, while I got up, snuck downstairs and slipped something into Bean’s advent box.

Breakfast this morning. The thrill (yes, it really is) of going to the coop and getting freshly laid green or blue shelled eggs has not warn off. Talk about fresh.

The kitchen, post breakfast. The penguin’s name is Snowflake, and Bean is in love with him.

Feeding the sheep & lamas is a regular weekend activity. I love the lama’s eyelashes, and the way the barn always smells sweet with hay and is warm with animal breath. Our neighbor’s always put on a full nativity play in their barn every year. All the local kids act out the parts, and everyone sings carols and eats cookies & goes sledding afterwards. So fun.

Getting the newspaper on the way back from our walk. We sled down to the bottom of our drive, then pull the paper up.

My little mischief maker, “helping” me make Christmas cards.

Morning crowds up against the glass like a dark gorilla; icicles hang sharp and pointed against the rosy pale of dawn. Day has come too soon all week. I’ve been fighting it, staying up late and then hating that first milky light spilling across the sky; never feeling like I get everything done. Then I roll over in bed and fined my little one’s soft head snuggling towards the nook of my neck. He’s come in sometime in the middle of the night on footie-pajama feet, nuzzling his way between us among the flannel sheets. He smells like heaven.

I breathe in and then exhale on the yoga mat, my limbs uncoiling, ligaments taught like the cat gut strings of a disused mandolin. Downward dog; breath for five inhalations, five exhalations my awareness scattering like chickadees and then narrowing back in towards the oval blue of quiet thought. Warrior pose: feet driving down into the floor, gravity pulling at my legs.

Then I’m sipping coffee and eating toast while driving away from home. The fields are crystalline. We’ve had a lot of snow, and the view of the mountain from the flats where the cows eat sweet grass all summer takes my breath away for an instant. The whole jagged edge of it is lit with the bright gold of day, snow capped and rocky, with the pale sky stretching up and up and up above it, the clouds like discarded garments hanging tattered at the cusp where world meets air.

Inside the classroom day begins with a hundred questions. They’re all there before me, nineteen kids, all wanting to tell a story at the same time. I’m like a dancer now or a magician, the multi tasking never stops. I’m bending to tie a shoe while listening to a story about a pet that has died, while answering a question about where the story-picture paper is kept. My mind becomes pocketed, punctuated, perceptive. I am no longer aware of my breath, and then I ask them to gather. I sing a song of peace in Latin. Dona nobis pachem. I feel my pulse slow. The children begin to gather, their voices joining mine until we’re all singing, breathing together.

I come through the door my body thrumming like a tuning fork. If I stand still I can almost feel it vibrating. My hands maybe quiver, and I’m starving. I crave solitude, but my small boy tumbles upon me, offering kisses. I sit down to eat at the butcher block island. Dry Italian salami and cheddar cheese with herby crackers. I open a bottle of temparnello, just to breath in the sharp sweet scent.

In the dark I spoon around him. His wide shoulders and the curve of his back almost a part of my body’s own geography when we sleep. My skin and his. Thisclose. Our hearts following the same quite choreography of breath.

This week has been crappy/busy. Every day filled with eighty-nine OTHER things to do, so that every time I sit down at the computer it’s usually nearing midnight and I’m officially mushy headed. I am looking forward to the weekend: to skiing on Sunday, and writing, and posting, and catching up with all of your blogs… what have you been up to this week?