Chilly!

We've had some chilly mornings with frost on the ground. I go out and hear the crunch underfoot as I make my rounds of the gardens. The days are getting a bit longer and I see new buds and signs of life on the shrubs and trees. The plum tree is in bloom and the pastures have the glow of spring green. The wrens are in full cry, calling their mates and getting busy with the nesting. Bob and Emily, our resident sandhill cranes, are renewing their vows very noisily and with dance steps worthy of a TV show. The cardinals are picking off the last of the beauty berries, and the buds of the azaleas promise to amaze us soon. I have lots of lettuces, broccoli and collards that survived the frosts. At the weekend, my grandson, Quincy, will help plant the seed potatoes that are now sprouting and turning bronze on the porch. We'll put in a couple of rows of onions as well.

This little guy is such a determined gardener! He gets out his trowel and applies the compost very faithfully to each plant. Like his mom at that age, he sticks out his tongue in concentration, thoroughly involved at the task at hand.
I am totally happy here! I love the change of seasons and how different the landscape is from month to month. We have been walking in the afternoons these brilliant days. We crisscross our land on trails, never making the same walk. There is always something new to see. Lola, our small wiener dog loves these walks, the sniffs of the fields, and being with her people.

Still thinking about keeping chickens!

What school should be

"Miss Molly!, Miss Molly!" Those small hands reach out and they are so glad to see me. I am trying as hard as I can to be a good volunteer in our local public schools. It is always an adventure when I come with my bags loaded with good stuff to eat and some new activities and games. One kid tells me, cuddling up close, "Fridays are my favorite days! We get to do such fun stuff!" The Tuesday group runs out to greet me and they always ask me what I have brought for them to eat.
The Friday group has been doing clay for a number of weeks. They have learned a lot about how to fashion their pieces, and then glaze them. They are so pleased with the wonderful colorful results. This class is mostly 'gifted' ten year olds. There are twenty-three of them. This is the 'best' school in the area. These kids generally come from affluent homes. I have never met their parents, but I know they care about their kids, take them to soccer and work on their science fair projects, and instill in them some politenesses which go far. They rely on the public school to attend to the education.
I was planning what I would do this Friday. I knew the kids had been reading the Patrick Smith book, 'A Land Remembered'. They were to read it by themselves, thirty minutes a day, no adult to read it to them, no one to be cuddled next to them as they read aloud and comment on the interesting things.
But they were excited about this book, a narrative about a family in early Florida. I found it fascinating too. This Friday I wanted to go into the class with my old fashioned dutch oven and make corn pone with cane syrup. I have twenty-four quilt squares ready to make into an entire quilt. I have checked out many books from the library with pictures of life in settler Florida.
Mid day I have an e-mail from their teacher, who clearly does not want me to come this week, but she is distantly polite. The kids have 'a lot to do- some chapter tests for the FCAT.' I say that I am coming anyway because I have promised the kids I will bring their completed clay pieces. I will do a short activity with them.
This teacher runs a spiffy classroom. I have rarely seen her doing anything but being hunkered down at her computer. I must say she welcomes having another warm body to deal with the kids. She has never had any curiosity at all about me. Perhaps she dismisses me as as an old person and not worthy of attention. I don't know. I think she regrets having me as a volunteer because I create chaos, questions, mess, and affection. But she is polite and she'll endure her commitment until the end of the year.
This school is built on the old model of having four classrooms in a pod, no windows, and a central space with the bathrooms. There are no doors between classrooms so the students have to be unnaturally silent all the time. You don't ever hear the hum of children being children. The silence is eerie. When I come with my activities and noise, it is obviously a bit too much. I see the other pod teachers slamming shut their folding doors. Mostly they are having TESTS!
Kids have an entirely different agenda. They are not interested in constant tests. They want the power of experience. They want to do stuff, think about things, pay attention to what interests them. They want to talk to me. And they want to talk to each other!
I know from long years of experience that kids will not remember the tests and the dreary work sheets. They'll remember the hands-on stuff and the experiences they had. I do not think that all these tests, pretests, post tests, final tests mean anything at all. Nor do the kids! What does a kid learn from taking all these tests? Maybe he/she learns not to fear tests.
I would wish that each child would have the time to wonder and find his/her way to explore the world and think critically about it. To do this, a kid must have the time to explore a world with all the time needed. To meet the Florida science standards, for example, it is much more important to send kids out to the seashore with a seine net and an enthusiastic teacher, or into the woods, than it is to learn how to fill in the dreary multiple test answers. What are we thinking??

What school should be

Technology Grandma

Simple living! Slow times! Hah! You can't do it in these times. I have a new cell phone and the manual is an inch thick. I feel like Andy Rooney, making all these things work.

In the last few months I have felt totally incompetent trying to use an amazing array of such things as laundry equipment (in New Zealand), microwave ovens in other peoples' houses, t.v.'s with five different remotes, international cell phones, digital ovens, air conditioning that is 'smart' and can figure out when you are home and when you aren't, garage door openers that you must 'teach' to let you open the fucking door, and of course, the quirks of one's own computer.

I used to smirk at the incompetencies of people I knew who couldn't manage e-mail. Or whatever. I am now humbled. I think that there are gremlins out there who delight in bringing me to my knees. I am totally reliant on my computer, and when it slowed down to a very slow crawl, I thought it was some horrid virus. In the heebeejeebies of the middle of the night, I imagined that I would throw this computer into the pond and buy a Mac. I thought I would humble myself and ask my wonderful friend Jeff to help. For two days I struggled with this, and then, miraculously, it healed!

But, mostly, I am faced daily with sorts of technology I must learn. The other day I took my old Honda in for service at a state of the arts dealership. They put it on the computer to diagnose every little thing. Seven hundred dollars later (and four hours plus a fresh baked cookie ), I have a perfect car. Does this computer diagnosis thing really work? I wish one did not have to learn everything new for every new product. I don't want to read another manual for each thing I buy.

At the farmers feed store, where we went last weekend with Quincy, our three year old grandson, we looked at the baby chickens for sale ($2.49 each for Andalusian hen chicks). Nothing digital here. I am still thinking of getting chickens.

I wish I could be alive at the time when there was some kind of standard for how things work. In the meantime, I am thinking of what words to have on my main cell phone interface. Maybe it will be 'throw a bad tool in the bushes'.

Garden Club!

Last weekend I attended a ceramics workshop- two full days about glaze techniques. Everyone there, all experienced potters, learned some new techniques, and to all of us, it was a stop time experience. While eating lunch next to the grand kilns, I met two women who were from my small town in East Pasco. One of them, invited me to her garden club meeting (about orchids).
So, today, I went. I have been resisting these events for many years, but I am really interested in orchids and have many of them that bloom magnificently on schedule. My new friend, Kay, welcomed me and introduced me to the twenty or so women who were there. These women were between forty and one hundred years old (all of us sharp as tacks!) There was a huge spread for brunch. None of this new age stuff to eat; it was southern hospitality all the way with quiches, sweet stuff, fruit and strong coffee with real cream on the side. I dug in, hugely appreciative of all these calories after my lean breakfast at home of a piece of toast and a soy sausage. Hey!
I am bad at names and I am still trying to fix in my mind Marilyn, Beebee, Natalie, Betty, and so many others.
After the pledge to the flag and a definitely Christian prayer, we settled our ample bottoms on the folding chairs and prepared for the orchid demo. I was enthralled. Beebee, the presenter had plump healthy plants and some that were close to giving up. We learned ways of reviving them. We learned how to root prune and repot, what medium to use, and how to propagate the plants. I never got the chance to boast of my greatest horticultural event- the giant mutant cosmos that grew to twelve feet and bloomed incessantly from July through December. (see photo..)
This garden club is only a small part of the greater garden club, and each 'circle' (this one was the Hollyhock circle') has a special area of interest. This one mainly does fund-raising such as auctions and raffles and teas. Another circle does certain kinds of flowers, wild flowers, and there are circles that do vegetables, I was told.
Though I loved the orchid lady who spoke with authority and wicked humor, I was a bit of a fish out of water. I am not interested in fund-raising, I made the vow years ago that I would never cook like my proper Alabama mom who cooked everything white. I'm no good with teas and brunches, and I don't dress up.
Whatever circle I decide to join, it will be an adventure getting to know these good small town people who do what they can, give back what they got, and feel pleased they can do it. One of the Hollyhock gals who was at least 85, spends a morning a week cooking lunch at the local Hospice. These are the thousand points of light, and they are not dim bulbs. This small town is buzzing with volunteers; they are at Habitat for Humanity, Hospice, the Library, the local history museum, the schools, and of course, the churches.
I am working on accepting people right where they are, no need to go into politics, religion, sartorial issues or the trading of ancient recipes. I don't have to jump up with my latest neat idea about transforming anything. It's about finding common ground and sharing the enjoyment of plants. The giant cosmos has now produced hundreds of volunteer seedlings. I'll definitely share those.

Thinking of Chickens

I went to visit a flock of chickens today, probably more than thirty of them, all colors and sizes. They were gently pecking away at the bugs in the grass as they quietly cackle-purred the way chickens do, perhaps celebrating their good fortune at being truly free range birds under large oaks and citrus trees. Several of them were truly beautiful like magnificent parrots. Their owner showed me their night time coop, and some of the lovely multi-colored eggs they laid. I was entranced.
This idea of keeping chickens came to me in the midst of a time when I have been distraught about my child's crumbling marriage. There is really no connection, except that I am searching for some new direction, something physical I must attend to beyond the garden and my art work. Keeping chickens would require me to be here in this place I love so much! "Oh, I can't possibly go here or there or attend the dinner, but I have to tend to the flock, thank you very much!"
I think, romantically, about having my three year old grandson help with this project. We now see a lot more of him, and he is often here on weekends.
Keeping chickens is a really bad idea for me, I know this, I would hate to kill them, I would have to get people to feed and water them when I am away.
What this is about is the 'away' part. I am struggling with having two homes. My real home is here in the country and I yearn to be able to really live here full-time. But, for now, we can't. At least once a week, usually more than that, both of us or one of us must do that horrid high speed (or stuck in traffic) commute of an hour and a half to go to our other 'home', an urban launching point for our civic responsibilities, and the chance to see friends and family we care about. We spend way too much time closing and opening houses.
Our house there, spare and stylish, has been fraught with problems for two years. It is never easy being there. The place is quite new, looks perfect and pristine, but there is always some problem with windows, plumbing, termites, leaks, a/c or whatever. I dread going there, and count the minutes until I can go home to our place in the remote Green Swamp where the owls call , the vegetables are ready from the garden, and the wildness envelopes me.
Something's got to give. So I think impractically of keeping chickens. Just maybe, it could keep me sane.

My Sister, Maria

Here is my adopted sister, Maria, laughing with her niece, my daughter, Elizabeth. Elizabeth has just presented really ridiculous matching pajamas to Maria and her husband, Jay. This was one of those wonderful holiday evenings families enjoy.

Maria has been a good friend for decades. I met her through her daughter who was one of my students. Then, Maria took on a job at the newspaper where my husband worked. Through the years Maria was a close friend to both of us. Our history goes way back.

One June shortly before 9/11 we decided to take a vacation in Italy together with my brother and sister and their spouses. We wanted Maria and Jay to come too. It was a fabulous time in Tuscany for all of us.. Maria and Jay, her husband, were enfolded seamlessly into our family, and the idea began in my mind. My biological sister and I live thousands of miles apart, but that is nothing to us. We call each other and visit each other when we can. Women need sisters! Maria needs a sister, (she is an only child) and I could do with more than one.

So, at some moment, we agreed that Maria and I would be sisters. This is an adoption from the heart and will last until I die. Maria has taken on the emotional burden of being in our family, and I care about her daughter and grandchildren. I never see Maria's grandchildren because they never visit, but I hear from them and love them in absentia. Maria sees our grandchildren who visit here from far-flung locales. But she is definitely on board for our local grandson, Quincy. Our holidays and family times always include Maria and Uncle Jay. Even when we are not there the local family gets together.

I have many friends, some who probably know me better that Maria does (or my biological sister,Irene, either). And, in many instances, I connect with close friends for that non-family reference. But, when it comes down to the low and dirty of family issues, I call upon my sisters. Irene would do anything for me.
Maria will always pick me up at the airport at 3 a.m. She'll spell me for a babysitting gig for Quincy. She knows just what to give me for a gift (that incredible butterfly book). I know she'll always be there when I need her!

Maria and Irene are the most intelligent persons I know. (Really!) Maria has rare insights about people and issues, books and ideas. She is so accomplished professionally, I am in awe. I cannot believe my good fortune in having two sisters, both so amazing!

As the New Year begins, I rejoice anew at having two sisters and two brothers. The last year had its hard times for us. Our siblings, Andy's and mine- Irene, Brooks, Maria, Nancy and Claire have been so supportive. Get more siblings! You can never have enough.

Happy New Year to all you who may read this blog! Stay tuned. This year, we may possibly see our country take a turn for the better.