We took the kids to the playground today. They had fun pulling the new wagon around and breaking up the sheets of ice that formed in the fountain overnight. Picking up large pieces of ice and dropping them on the pavement is such a fascinating thing for small children. I am not sure if it is the power they feel causing permitted destruction, or if it is mesmerizing to see the ice break and scatter in a hundred different directions. Possibly it is a little of both, but it is something that is always fascinating and they will not grow bored with all winter.
Kaileigh comes for dinner and we go to stained glass. She has a terrible cold, and has not felt well all week, but is feeling better today. It is hard for her to talk, she doesn't quite have laryngitis, but the sound doesn't always come out when she tries to speak.
|The sign I made for my teacher. He needed something better, so I did something about it!|
Friday, November 21
It is officially one month to the beginning of winter, but you wouldn't know that by the temperature outside. Inside it is chilly when I wake up, I keep the heat at fifty four at night, otherwise it gets too warm in my bedroom. Even at that temperature, it is so warm under the flannel sheets, comforter, blanket and quilt, I sometimes need to throw the covers off to cool down.
I hear Alex moving about the house getting ready to go to Amherst to meet with his class advisor. He is going to sign up for classes for the next semester. I get up and run downstairs without putting any socks on to say goodbye to him before he leaves. It is a week out from chemo, so I don't anticipate that my feet will feel too badly. I manage to get in a quick hug before I go flying back up the stairs in search of my socks and slippers. After seven days, the tingling can still be pretty bad, I think I lasted about two minutes with bare feet.
I have been thinking about how people with little money for heat would have to deal with this, and it wouldn't be easy. This could certainly be a reason to resign yourself to bed.
I gather together clothes so I can take a shower. Alex has showered before me, so the water runs hot right away, and the tile on the floor is not so cold. Before I get in, I pull off my bag. I have a smaller closed style on that is meant to be worn for maybe twenty four hours and then be disposed. Although I changed last night before bed, I can tell that if I don't change it now, it will start to work its way off of me in the next few hours. The adhesive is creeping off my belly, creep, creep, working its way to the edge of the wafer.
Today the kids at daycare are pretty excited. We are going to have a lantern walk this evening. These walks are a tradition especially in Germany and in Waldorf schools throughout the world. They usually happen around November 11, which is known as Martinmas. It signifies the turning inward of thoughts and of our inner light in preparation for the winter months ahead.
We have been working on our lanterns for the last two weeks and they are beautiful. We started them by painting balloons with glue and sticking colorful tissue paper on them. It is always a little difficult to get them finished, but during some quiet times, I was able to help the lanterns along.
Nine children and their parents arrive back at my house shortly after five, with dinner to share. Once we are full of warm food, we set off around the block, each child holding their lantern, glowing with the light of a battery powered candle. It is chilly, but the lanterns are so magical and the children so excited, it is a noisy, jubilant procession.
Once we arrive back at my house we warm ourselves with mulled cider, hot chocolate and fox tattoos all around!