Eating our dragons

Lately the air has turned chill, and the last few days the wind has been blowing a bit wild.  There is a definite bite to it.

The cats picked up on the seasonal change immediately.  They've been running wildly through the garden and bushes, up and down the trees, and throughout the house in the middle of the night.  They've been climbing up the bookshelves, knocking things off, and chasing each other across our beds while we sleep.  When they woke me that first night, I wondered what had gotten into them.  But the next day it was obvious to everyone.

The wind has gotten inside them.

This same wind, the one that takes gentle cats and turns them into demons possessed, seems to have also gotten into my children.  Not one of them could sit still the last few days.  They were looking for reasons to argue with each other, with me, even with themselves.  I was bewildered by their change in behavior until I looked at the calendar and realized that it was the end of September already.

The wind, the sudden bite in the air, Michaelmas... it all adds up.


After much dragon-like ado this week, Friday we settled back down to our normal routines.  Then in the afternoon I told them a story, and we made dragon bread.  Everyone worked with such care and creativity on their breads, shaping their dragons just so.  I think these are the loveliest dragons yet-- so different from each other.

And that's how it should be.  We each have our own dragons, our own short-comings, our own temperaments.  And when they get the best of us, we have to slay them.  Only then can our true selves, our golden goodness shine through.

The first picture below shows all five dragons, while the second picture shows just the kids' dragons.  The last picture is after baking.

The main lesson work this week was perfect for Michaelmas.  I wish I could say I planned it that way, but it was all sheer coincidence.  Sunburst learned about the reformation and how Martin Luther stood up to the wicked pope Leo X.  Moonshine finished the tale of the Ramayana and Rama's fight against Ravana and his league of demon warriors-- very much like dragons themselves.  Kitty Bill's story was much more mild.  He heard the story of Mother Holle, a perfect example of two types of behavior.  I love that the second sister started out with good intentions-- I will work hard!  But even by the second day those intentions were overcome by her own laziness.  Who can't relate to that?!

Kitty Bill helped me make the golden rice, a regular tradition for Michaelmas-- rice cooked with turmeric. With Einstein's help in the kitchen, Moonshine treated us to a mesmerizing Indian-themed meal of Chana Masala and a variation of Korma that she called Hanuman's Delight.  One taste and we could all see that it was aptly named; it was so delicious!

Now that the weather has had a few days to work within our spirits, the cats seem to be quieting down.  I hope the children aren't too far behind.

St. George's play

At the end of April we had St. George's Day here in England.  Apparently it's a big deal.  Since we were in the midst of a local geography lesson, it seemed only right to learn more about it and how it's celebrated here.

We already knew the story of St. George slaying the dragon.  It has been told and retold countless times, by countless people.  Usually it's something we do at Michaelmas, and my go-to version comes from one of the Waldorf books.  However, this time I told a version I found over at the Baldwin Project from C. S. Bailey, entitled simply: St. George and the Dragon.  And the girls were quick to say that they preferred this retelling much more than the others.

Because Sunburst had been studying the Crusades a few months ago, we were reminded about how St. George's cross was used to identify a crusader and then brought to England by Richard the Lionheart to identify English troops in battle.

We set out to hear the poem by William Blake ("And did those feet in ancient time") that was turned into a hymn of sorts and named "Jerusalem."  It's a wonderful song-- even Emerson, Lake and Palmer covered it in the 70s.  The girls were so enamored with the song that we were inspired to learn it.  And that was Monday.  Our first attempts to get the tune down were hilarious, but by Tuesday we had begun to show signs of improvement.

The girls both made some lovely St. George drawings for their books.  Sunburst wanted to draw hers in pencil, while Moonshine asked if she could use pastels.  Moonshine's drawing had such an otherworldly quality to it that it reminded me of program covers from Waldorf school plays.  The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that we finally had a large enough cast to put on a proper play.  The kids were immediately excited by the idea and thought it would be a great surprise for their dad Einstein.

We created a program using artwork from the girls' main lesson books.  I included the words to "Jerusalem" so that it would be a nice keepsake for the kids.  Even Kitty Bill picked up the lyrics rather quickly.

 Here is Sunburst's drawing on the inside of the program:

And Kitty Bill was inspired to draw a picture, as well: 

Both Sunburst and Moonshine wanted to help write the dialog, so we worked on it together in the afternoons as they found the inspiration.  Somehow the entire thing took on a life of its own and turned into a musical-- this is what happens when you have children that don't ever stop singing.

Sunburst played both the king and the dragon.  She managed to transform a cereal box into a convincing dragon's head.  Moonshine took the part of the Princess Sabra, with the comic exception that she wanted to be eaten by the dragon.  Kitty Bill played St. George.  His role was fairly straight forward, but he managed to bring some comedic personality to the role when, overcome with wonder by Sunburst's convincing dragon death scene during rehearsals, he shouted, "Awesome!"  We laughed so hard that we decided to leave that line in for the performance.

They had a fantastic time, and Einstein was completely impressed.  He couldn't believe that they had pulled off the show without him catching any hint of it.  And of course he was taken with their performances.

We managed to capture the entire performance on video to send the grandparents back in the states.  I think it will be quite the treat for my British grandmother in particular.  I fully expect she will be singing along.

A Full Michaelmas

Today we spent a lot of time cultivating our will forces. In other words, we did a lot. From collecting horse chestnuts (really, what will we do with them all?) to making conker dragons. From kneading dough to forming our own individual dragon breads. From harvesting apples to slicing and drying, cooking and saucing. From collecting hazelnuts to... well, we had to leave something for tomorrow!

Many hands make light work, and we had a lot of fun. It was a full Michaelmas, spent manifesting, transforming, and playing together. And with Moonshine's help, I managed to take pictures.

Wanting Michaelmas

I've been sitting here for a while now trying to decide what to say about Michaelmas, when I remembered this passage from a tiny book I recently picked up at a book sale.

"It is certainly not easy to say much about (Michaelmas), as this festival has generally never been celebrated, as thus there is no tradition to pass along. We must try to create it, and above all to want it, and then in time it can become that which it should truly be."
--Friedel Lenz, Celebrating the Festivals with Children, 1973 (English translation 1986)

So with that in mind, I'll say that we've tried a few different things over the years to capture the essence of Michaelmas. This year Michaelmas looked something like this:



MMmmm... dragon bread. A standing tradition for several years now. I tell the Michaelmas bread-making story from All Year Round while we prepare the dough. This year we used a recipe from May All Be Fed called "Ocean's Bombs of Love Bread." It was the best dragon bread we've devoured yet.




These are dyepots of goldenrod and marigold. This year I decided I would tell the lovely tale "The Michaelmas Story of the Star Children" by Corinne Batzell, from the outstanding book An Overview of the Waldorf Kindergarten, and at the end, present the children with golden capes.

For my dying recipe I used a combination of some instructions given to me by the lovely and crafty A., and the beautiful book by Rita Buchanan, A Dyer's Garden. We dyed three silks in the goldenrod bath and one in the marigold. The marigold, which I had very little of-- maybe two dozen flower heads, turned out to be a fairly strong dye. The goldenrod? Not so much. We harvested plenty according to the instructions. I even tried overdying two of the silks in the leftover marigold bath, but they didn't absorb much more color. The girls were plenty pleased with our results, though. And they are anxious to try dying with other plants.



1. goldenrod dipped in marigold leftovers, 2. marigold, and 3. goldenrod.


To round out our day of goldenness, I surprised everyone with an extremely golden bed of rice under our thai curry seitan dish.



The bloopers reel for the day would have included Kitty Bill dumping an entire cup of flour into his face, Kitty Bill running off during the goldenrod harvesting, and me accidentally pinching Moonshine's helping fingers with the scissors during the goldenrod harvesting.

Our Michaelmas attempts are always far from perfect. They don't yet have that same reverence as Martinmas or Advent... but we do our best. We want Michaelmas, and for now, that will have to be enough.