Friday, July 25, 2008

Rainy Season

It's rainy season here in central Florida, and for those of us who are acclimated to the steamy life, it is a glorious time to be here. Stuff grows as you look at it. While showering outside on the porch this morning I was entangled in grape vines so aggressive that Andy had to come to my rescue with the clippers.

All the bald patches and armadillo holes have healed over and the Boston ferns we have everywhere for ground cover beneath the live oaks are wildly prolific. The zinnias in the old claw foot bathtub outside my studio window attract huge numbers of butterflies and hummingbirds. I find myself staring at them when I look up from my table.

It's too hot to do much work in the garden after about eight a.m. Today, I pushed it and was working getting the hay mulch on the vegetable garden before the weeds completely take over. Andy has constructed another wonderful lettuce table and I will grow the other stuff around the sides of the enclosed garden.

Our vegetable garden has tall sides of chicken wire to keep out the deer. Over the years this fence has grown a bountiful amount of Virginia creeper, gourds, and morning glories, so it feels rather like a secret garden. I don't weed much, but continuously apply hay mulch kindly donated by a neighbor. On the paths I use wood shavings from Andy's furniture shop. When I plant anything, I just clear away the mulch, add some great compost from our pile, and those new plants or seeds are good to go.

Right now, in the hot rainy season, nothing much grows. I still have some tomatoes, peppers, and eggplants, those of tropical heritage. The lettuce gave up, but the okra looks promising. Basil is terrific and we eat a lot of pesto. Over the years I have learned how to control the worms that would love to bore into just about anything. I have yet to find a way to discourage the stink bugs that keep damaging the tomatoes.

I read in the Wall St. Journal today about the silly rich people who engage landscape architects to make vegetable gardens for their houses at $50,000 a pop. What I know is that you have to be there full time to grow a decent organic vegetable garden. You have to cruise by every plant each day to check for the dreaded( and beautiful!) tomato horn worms, the stink bugs, the powdery mildew on the squashes and cucumbers, and the tell-tale signs of armadillo action or rabbits or squirrels. You have to spend some time reducing the biomass, otherwise known as weeding. And you have to be able to spend some time just being there taking in the wonder of it all. The hummingbirds are there diving into the native red sage and the butterfly plants I allow to grow next to the fence.

I am so hot! I mop my face so I can see and my feet are filthy. This is not Scarsdale and we will not have our guests have hors d'oeurves in the garden. But we will have wonderful meals from what we grow.

In rainy season we plan for the next garden that will begin around Labor Day. I am ordering seeds for interesting lettuces you cannot find in the grocery store. I am looking forward to those huge wonderful rosettes of collards and I can even think again about beans and broccoli and carrots.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Why I never attend reunions

Every time I turn on my email I get those that want me to join reunion sites. I have gone to a few college reunion gatherings, but none of the people I really wanted to connect with were there. I thought I was immune from the high school events because I went to high school in Beirut, Lebanon, and at that time the political situation was so violent none of us actually graduated. The families had to flee to the hills or to other countries. I never heard from those friends again. I assumed that the Arabs are probably all dead by now. The others must be scattered around the Middle East and Europe and the United States.
I loved being a student at the international school in Beirut. It was exciting to be in a politically volatile place. But, mostly, the nut of it was a school with way higher standards than the one I had left in the U.S. And I loved it! My friends were trilingual in French, Arabic, and English. I loved being in the homes of these kids, eating strange food, but delicious, to me, and hanging out in Arabic where the language changed by the second. My parents were pretty loose and never asked what I was doing. They trusted me, but they had not a clue what we did.
What we did was to explore every cranny of Beirut and enjoy a lot of it. I especially remember nights on the Corniche, the esplanade along the Mediterranean, where everything was possible and beautiful. We often went out as a 'posse'. We talked for hours and we took some risks as kids this age do. To this day, I think that some of what we did will be kept 'secret'.
A few days ago I got a query from my best friend from this time: Najla. It has been fifty years since I have heard from any of them. As we evacuated from Beirut, I was sucked out and into college life in the U.S.A. and then into my long lovely life as I know it.
I did not immediately respond to this voice out of the blue, but finally I picked up the phone (Reunion! Warning!).
It was a wonderful conversation for both of us. We have so many memories in common and we each have three children, born at the same time for each of us. We could remember so many things about that time for each of us.
Then my friend said, "You must know about Dirk?" My ears pricked up. Dirk was my steady boyfriend in my senior year. Honestly, I had barely thought about him in the ensuing years. But now I remembered him. We snuggled the entire way through Egypt, we walked the Corniche many evenings. Dirk was very smart, an athlete with great pecs. He was a boarder at the school: his family was in Germany. Dirk was an international kid.
There was something kind of stiff about Dirk, and towards the end of my time in Beirut, I gradually gravitated towards another young man, an Arab student at the university. Tannus was my first real true love and Dirk was left in the dust.
I left the Middle East, hastily evacuated with my family that summer before college. And then, I never looked back. I never knew how to contact those people who had been so important to me in high school. These were the days before e-mail. And I went on to lead my life.
So, now, a voice out of the past informs me that Dirk, my best boyfriend, murdered his wife, and is now in prison for life! (Can I believe that I actually at one time...aargh!) So, naturally, I look all this up on line, and it is true!
So, this is why I NEVER go to class reunions. They are too fraught for me.