Yesterday morning we were sitting on our sun-filled front porch reading the papers. Lola,looking like a small loaf of dark rye, was spread out next to the screen door, soaking up the morning rays. (Why do dogs do this?) We looked up, all of us hearing the subtle "whish!" of wings going over the house, reminiscent of a pack of cyclists all riding fast.
The cranes are back. They settled, six of them, in the pasture out front, and they were in full wild cry. Perhaps they were yodelling in victory at having made the long flight from their summer home near the Canadian border. They are not modest, these huge beautiful birds. There was much jostling and vocalization, some dancing with outspread wings, some of them tossing small sticks into the air. But mostly, they walked back and forth in stately beauty, looking for edible bits. At one point they all went over to the pond to drink, and, hopefully, consider it for nesting.
They all look the same after the first year. Some may be a bit lighter, but basically they are all dressed alike. We have had a pair of Sandhills who make this farm theirs. These are non-migratory birds. We call them Bob and Emily. This pair raised one chick and the three of them can often be seen together. They look exactly like the migratory birds who arrive in early winter and depart in the spring. But all of them seem to be good parents who care so diligently for their downy red offspring.
Today, the six came back on schedule and spent another day browsing. I see them now, at the end of the day, out in the pasture companionably towering over a couple of small wild pigs. Such a gift to live here.
My Vashon family weathered the storm. They were out of power for several days in a house in the process of enlargement and renovations. My son had a generator capable of running a small space heater, and they also kept warm being outside gathering up storm debris they added to a huge bonfire pile of construction left-overs. When they couldn't stand it another minute, they got into the van and drove around with the heater on full throttle. They ate tunafish and there was enough water in the pump reservoir for the basics. Little Joe, two years old, threw up in the family bed in the middle of the night. No laundry capacity, of course. But everyone got through, and the grown-ups even sounded quite cheery. They have each other and the kids are great.
Today at Lacoochee School I brought a ton of stuff for a Christmas party. There was the tacky fiber optic Christmas tree and a Christmas cloth to go under it. The kids wrapped up their ceramic angels, all beautiful with bright glazes. They used a LOT of tape but they were well satisfied with the rumpled results (To Mom from Lorenzo.)The main event was making gingerbread houses from graham crackers, frosting, candy and cookies. The sugar odor was palpable in that closed atmosphere. The kids loved it. Many of their creations looked like items in a yard sale of the homeless and they were very proud as I took their photographs holding their structures.
After lunch, we finished up their houses and read a Christmas book out loud. The kids vie to be the "back scratcher" of the adult in charge. Danielle and Christopher are scratching my back but they are drawn to the story, so gradually they ease back down to the carpet so they can see the pictures. Now, I dispense little gifts to everyone, each one different, a new experience in the public school world of perfect fairness. Some of the little girls will love the temporary tattoos, the boys might like those funny animals you put in water and they grow HUGE. Every single child, except one, seemed delighted. When that one child whined and complained I took back his gift and left another item for him to collect later. This child is so needy of everything, it fills me with despair. There is not enough stuff, food, love, to fill him up. I believe he has a parent in prison. Lorenzo came into school today wearing old shoes at least five sizes too big. The teacher found him a new pair in his size. Lorenzo is my right hand buddy. He is always there to help me unload and load my various bags and boxes. This is the kid who has had some real success with reading, not with the prescribed FCAT drek, but, with Dick and Jane. "Miss Molly, I love to read!"
I couldn't help noticing that the wonderful teacher of this motley crew spends an inordinate amount of time at her computer or checking the dreary paperwork generated by seventeen reluctant kids. She is checking attendance and the movement of kids to their various destinations. She is reporting on tiny test scores, she is CRAZY with paperwork, always threatening to overwhelm her.
If she could be free to spend more time interacting with her students, and if those students were not always being pulled out for individual attention, I just think of what this talented teacher clould do!
Time for dinner. I know a wonderful dinner is happening up at the main house.
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