A Yule of Light and Dark

Today has been, well, a fair more hurried and a fair bit less serene.  But it has had its moments of beauty.  The babies are still all ill - Jenna has been feeling particularly rough.  She hates to be alone for even a moment, so tends to come sit as close as she can get or lie in the middle of the living room floor.  I quickly get touched out.  Yet I remember longing to be petted and comforted when I was ill, and I gently stroke her hair back from her face and rub her back just one more time.

But, celebrations are still little touches of glitter in a long haul hard work day.  Lighting candles, prayers, reminders of the turning year and the ever-faithful always-the-same love of God.  At bedtime tonight Jenna prayed that we be the light of love to each other, and remember how much more important people are than things.  What better a prayer could we pray, at this time of year?  :)


We put on sparkly gold nail polish, and had pizza for tea.  It was *that* kind of festival day.  A yes day.  A day of not putting undue musts and oughts on ourselves, and just sharing the light, wherever we found it.

I opened my beautiful swap gift from a Green Parent mama and we shared the chocolates.


Ash and Morgan helped me clear all of my work mess off the dining table, get some more laundry through, and put the food shop away.  And during the afternoon I first wound, skeined, and weighed 20 mini skeins for a sock yarn blanket, and then dyed most of them too.  Look at all those tiny baby twists!  :)


My darling babies took just *hours* to settle to sleep and I got pretty close to hysterics when Rowan started telling me a fourth round of those bizarre stories about "one time when Jenna said I could have the red sweetie..."  Just. stop. your. wiggling. and. talking. it. is. night. time!  "Don't cry, mama, I LOVE you," she says as she hugs my neck with her little crumpled face pressed to my hands.

I had to laugh.  Laughing and crying.

And so, finally, she sleeps, still and warm and heavy, holding my arm, and I slip away to get a drink and wash my face and remind myself how small she is and how much I really dearly love her.



The moon is particularly beautiful tonight.


Oh, welcome back, dear sun, and all of the deep-down-hidden precious life of the world.  The long dark is turning, turning, and we turn our faces to the coming light.