Boreal Witch

This was the first year that Arthur could actually decide what kind of face he wanted on his pumpkin, and sadly, I wasn't able to watch Arthur help with the pumpkin carving. (I was on my way to Wisconsin for my Grandmother's funeral.)

Robinson told me that Arthur wanted his pumpkin to have two eyes, a nose, and a smile. They kind of look alike, don't they?

It's kind of a mixed blessing not to be canning pumpkin this year. I like the fact I don't have to peel, chop, cook, and can a large pumpkin, but on the other hand, I love fresh pumpkin. I suppose that's what we get for traveling at the end of October.

Blessed be.

One of the stops while in Seattle was a pumpkin patch. Arthur was going to pick the pumpkin out all by himself and then he, Robinson, and Oldpa were going to carve it into a jack o' lantern.

Unfortunately, most of the roads into the pumpkin patch were not paved, let alone smooth gravel, so Oldma had to stay behind while we looked around for a pumpkin. Arthur wanted to take the first pumpkin he saw (which ended up being a tad rotten), so we had to steer him around a bit (with him choosing a couple of others) before we found one that would be perfect. We took it back to Oldma and got her approval.

Someone at the patch was selling roasted sweet corn, which Arthur saw when we entered the patch and begged for. We bought two ears, one being the biggest ear that we had ever seen. Even the corn seller commented that it was the largest ear he had sold this fall. Arthur devoured most of his and Robinson's ear of corn, then had some from mine and Oldma's. I don't think he was quite satisfied, because he looked as though he could have a whole other ear by himself.

It was a great trip to the pumpkin patch! Even the weather cooperated, which is quite a feat during Washington autumns!

Blessed be.

My grandmother passed in August and my aunt and father decided to have the funeral in early November. My grandmother had decided to be cremated, so there wasn't any concern over storing a body, so we had the luxury of time. Since I had a lengthy stop over in Seattle, we decided to make it a family trip and Arthur and Robinson joined me in Seattle to visit Arthur's Oldma and Oldpa, Great-Grandma Trask and Great-Aunt Kathleen, as well as my Aunt Gloria.

There are days when I really miss being in the Lower 48, especially Washington. I love the trees and the availability of certain foods and stores. Of course, there are things I don't enjoy as much such as the traffic or city driving (even in Anchorage, Alaska has no real "city driving" to speak of). Still, every time I go, I experience a mixture of nostalgia and homesickness. It's nice to be there, but it's also nice to be home.

The Washington family did their jobs well: Arthur was completely spoiled by them. Great-Grandma Trask and Great-Aunt Kathleen gave him some Matchbox cars and monster trucks. Aunt Gloria gave him some blocks. Oldma and Oldpa gave him a big blue remote controlled train and lots of books. Most importantly, everyone gave him lots of attention. Especially Oldma.

Oldma, despite her condition, accompanied us on almost all of our outings. We were a little afraid of tiring her out (and some nights she looked completely exhausted), but she was pretty firm. Every morning she would ask us, "What are we doing today?" She came to The Bouncy Place, the Children's Museum of Tacoma, the pumpkin patch, and to the park. She read books and watched movies with Arthur. She talked to him and watched him play. I'm sure it was difficult for her not to be able to get down on the floor and drive cars around with him, but I think she was pretty grateful that he was able to come and visit.

Blessed be.

Arthur loves trains. Everything about them. He could probably name at least 10 different parts (without help) and another 10 (with help). When I found out the Spooky Train was going to be running in October to celebrate Halloween, that got Arthur pretty excited.

We met up with his friends, got some tickets, and then waited in line. And waited. And waited. We stood in line for at least an hour. Apparently, the railroad volunteers had decided to use the 100-year-old train instead of the newer one...which is fine, except for the fact that the older train is. as. slow. as. molasses. When the train was leaking so much water that it couldn't make it around the track without refueling, the volunteers got out the newer train, a move they probably should have done to begin with, considering the length of the line, the impatience gauge of the average parent, and the average attention span of a child.

At the end of the ride, everyone got cookies and cider or hot chocolate, which was a nice treat. All in all, the kids had fun. I'd like to do it again next year, since Arthur had so much fun (while actually on the train), but if they don't have the newer train out to begin with, I don't think I'd be willing to stand in another line. The 100-year-old train is pretty cool, but it's just not able to handle a ride which should only take 7 minutes.

I hope any door-to-door trick or treating lines will be short!

Blessed be.

It's been snowing off and on, but the snow really hasn't stuck. For the past two days, though, the snow has started to stick. Things have turned from brown to white and it's been pretty lovely here

After a massive battle of wills (during which Arthur and I fought over putting on his boots and big winter coat), we went out and enjoyed the first real snowfall.

I think Arthur was a little confused by all the snow at first. He ate some and then he drove his green truck around the driveway. He grabbed his pail and tried to dump snow out of his pail, but it was too sticky (not like the sand he played with this summer) so he abandoned it. He went to the porch and tried to play with his sandbox, but the sand was frozen at the bottom. Then we went in.

We made some hot chocolate and had some treats to celebrate. Hope the beginning of your winter is full of mugs of hot chocolate!

Blessed be.

Perhaps I shouldn't be admitting this, but I used to be a very good Wiccan. When I first converted, I practiced all of the holidays, Sabbats, and Esbats. I religiously watched the phases of the moon and star-gazed on the roof of my parent's house. I collected herbs and plants along the Coastal Trail and not only knew the names of every single one of them, but also what magickal properties they contained. I conducted rituals and rites - for myself only (after one mishap I never could perform another rite for anyone else). I had not one but two Tarot decks and I made my own runes from rocks I collected on the beach. I even meditated on a regular basis.

Sometimes I wonder if that gung-ho Wiccan is gone for good...but then I remember that maybe it's more important I have found a religious philosophy I agree with than just blindly following. I've always thought that people who just go to church because they feel they have to are no better off than people who don't go. I'm comfortable in this Wiccan shell.

Because of that, I have decided that I'm going to start meditating again. I always complain that I never have time to myself and that I can never just BE. I always have to be doing something. Maybe it's because I have another kid on the way or maybe it's because I feel as though I want to know myself better as a spiritual being, but I feel as if I am drawn to meditating again because it is the one part of being Wiccan that I really miss. I miss the way it made me feel and I miss the way that it seemed to comfort me when I was troubled. Everything else is just a tool - Tarot, runes - but meditation really seemed to help me cope with all of my teenage angst.

The other day, I felt blocked. Something inside me needed to come out. I did some meditation while Robinson was putting Arthur to bed and after about 3 minutes I couldn't contain my tears. I just started sobbing. Obviously, I was still grieving over my grandmother's death even though I haven't openly cried in several months. It certainly made me re-evaluate how I was grieving.

For now, I'm going to try and meditate twice a day for no specific length of time. I want to get in the habit of doing it before I fully commit to any length of time. Eventually, my goal is to meditate for an hour a day, broken up into two half-hour chunks. I'm hoping that in doing this I will be better able to look inward and become an even more spiritual person.

Blessed be.