Lacoochee kids

On Thursday evening I took to school the bisque fired clay pieces to be glazed. The kids were thrilled to see their works of art now strong and ready for the glazing. These kids and their parents (this evening there were five dads among the number of moms) were so glad to claim their clay pieces and begin the process of glazing them. They listened to me as I explained how they were to use the glazes. I never had to say anything twice. I was speaking in English, not their first language, and some of the terms were foreign to them. But with good will from us all we figured everything out and the pieces were glazed. The parents and kids finished up and everyone cleaned up and helped me transport the pieces to my car. They know that next week I will appear with their finished clay works. These are not entitled kids, nor are their parents helicopters.

I love this group of kids and parents, and the facilitators, Ben Aguilar and Rachel Kurtz, those wonderful young people who have made this after school program possible. We are already planning to have a celebratory end of the year happening at our farm. We'll have a pot luck of those great hispanic foods, swimming, and my signature exploding volcano cake.

Lots of trips recently for me. We went to NYC for a week of culture, then back to spend a few days with Quincy. A few days later I went for a weekend with my 'girl friends' at a friend's beach house on the Atlantic. This place was certainly a close second to our paradise here in central Florida. I do love the huge beach and the constantly changing colors of the sea. I walked miles, always searching for shells and anything interesting the surf threw up. I went on a long bike ride. (My thighs are huring!) But it's not my paradise!

When I returned this morning from Daytona, I immedately went out with my binoculars to see how the sand hill cranes were doing. Bob and Emily are still on their huge nest on the edge of the pond, but I was alarmed to see buzzards and crows on the trees overhead. Do they know that the hatching will happen at any time? It has been twenty-six days since Bob and Emily settled down on the nest they built. My bird book says that the babies will hatch in twenty eight days. It's been so hot in the middle of the days I really want to set up a shade umbrella over the nest! I think I won't be able to stand it if anything happens to this nest and the two eggs don't survive for one reason or another!

My daughter called to tell me that she is worried about her many monarch butterfly chrysalises now hanging in her butterfly bushes. I guess we are related!

Still Being Grandma

Here is Quincy, the red head on the right, helping me be a volunteer today at Lacoochee School. We are planting a garden and have put in zinnias, black eye peas, peppers, radishes and cucumbers. Everyone had such a good time! Quincy, my horticultural side kick knows all about making a garden. Just today he pulled up a bunch of carrots he planted weeks ago and we put them in the salad. He's eager to share his expertise, and the kids are so welcoming to him, though they are four years older than he is. He is thrilled to be a part of all this, such a social boy.

He has recently left his Montessori school; a bad fit all around, and he will start a new school tomorrow where all the family knows he'll be safe and happy. He was a bit confused today. He thought that this school he was visiting with Grandma was his new school. Eager to do right, he volunteered a lot of information, and when the planting and watering was over he quickly found an unoccupied desk in the classroom. He raised his hand properly to make a comment, and when he saw a boy go into the bathroom and come out, he asked if he could visit the bathroom. (He left the door open, much to the amusement of those third graders.) "Hey, he's little," I said. Then the kids told him to wash his hands, which he did - in the drinking fountain! The other kids told me in great detail about their little brothers and sisters. Much hilarity there.

So, it has been a wonderful and exhausting five days with a four year old. Quincy is never a problem. He eats anything, sleeps twelve hour nights, is never destructive. He talks all the time and asks so many questions! For long periods he is happy with his imaginative play in the doll house, or outside with his trucks and little plastic guys on the edge of the garden I am weeding. He spends lots of time in the barn where he has his post office and delivery system. I always think I can get in a bit of work on my quilts, but there is always a new mail delivery by a small postman in a wagon, or he needs some rubber bands or has a question about armadillos. So I find my nature books and we look it up, distracted along the way by a photo of a man and child looking at something with their head lamps on. We decide we'll buy some of those head lamps and discuss all the stuff we'll see. Another morning shot with nothing purposeful to show for it but the sweet necessity of a loving and curious child.

My pedometer averages 15,000 steps these days. I think most of them are from the trips up and down and up and down the road behind Quincy's little bike. At first Quincy did not want to ride this bike. But we adjusted it so it was friendly and his feet could reach the ground. I found an objective he wanted to reach, a pile of lime rock we use to fill in the potholes on our road. We ride the bike to the pile and Quincy plants some sticks in his "rock" garden. He is thrilled to be able to ride this uncertain bike that wobbles and throws him to the ground sometimes. I am right behind him but as the trips increase he is more and more confident and I am letting go and by the end of this last day he is flying!

His speech is sometimes so unclear we come to an impasse, even after many repetitions. He wants so show me stuff: the gecko on the wall, how he's set up a game board, a restaurant he's made out of little cardboard boxes and small stuffed animals. We make a book with cut out pictures and a stamp pad for the captions. We take several trips in the golf cart each day to check out the nesting sand hill cranes on the edge of the pond. A couple of times we have seen the two very large eggs in the nest as the bird takes a break. "What is the daddy doing now?" asks Quincy. The female we have named Emily seems to be doing most of the work! We scout around and spy Bob, the male, pecking in the dirt. "I think Bob is finding bugs for Emily", I say.

I wonder how his mom, a single parent, can do this? I think back of my own new work life and childbearing and I have amnesia about it. Somehow it gets done.

Loving the silence of the evening, I will go to bed soon. I will miss the last wonderful visit to the grandchild asleep in his bed upstairs when I check his covers and that everything is well for the night. I kiss his sweet cheek close to all those stuffed animals and a bunch of favorite books we've read so many times. I think of that dimple that will show when he sees the waffles Grandpa will make for breakfast.

There are so many new adventures for the next time he's here. But tonight he was very happy to go home to his mother, as were we.

Being Grandma

Here's Quincy, the love of my life, our youngest grandson playing a drum. He's here for five days, and this is the end of day two. We are old, closing in on seventy, still spry (but not sharp as tacks, that description comes later.) He came on the day after we had arrived back from a week in New York City, exhausted from the intensity of so many people and so much wonderful stimulation of art and music and drama and old friends (and heavy colds we were fighting. )

So we are here in this rural paradise of intense green of early foliage, the vegetable garden full of too many vegetables to count. The birds crabbed at us to get those feeders going! Two hummingbirds actually landed on my wrist as I was hanging up their feeder with new nectar.

Quincy went out with us this morning after we hung out the laundry on the clothes line to check out the sand hill cranes nesting on the pond. We could see the two enormous eggs they are hatching in their big nest of sticks and grass surrounded by a mote. Quincy and I had our binoculars at the ready and we watched the parent birds changing places on the nest.

A young four year old listens to a different internal drummer. At the request of "Get your shoes on. We're going out now," he takes ten minutes. He has to find the shoes, and along the way, his attention is distracted by any number of things calling for his attention. We grandparents are learning to be more mellow (more ketchup?), and wait patiently for everything to come together.

Grandpa and Grandma usually lead a purposeful life where we devote blocks of time to our work. All this purpose flies out the window when Quincy is here. We negotiate for time; You take him while fixing dinner and I can get in a half hour to work on that quilt or painting. I'll be on tap for three hours in the afternoon. Andy is great with taking Quincy to do errands and a grocery run. My specialty is the bedtime routine of bath and stories and many hugs.

The most exhausting thing is the negotiation of everything and the "Why's". I appreciate these qualities, but I find it so tedious. You can't just jump into the car and go when you need to. With a four year old, you must first alert him to the plan, find shoes, go pee, find necessary items such as the favorite toy, and water bottle. Then you must install a car seat and insert the child, contorting yourself to click the seat belt. In doing a series of errands you must de-insert the child because, of course you can't leave a kid for even a few minutes alone in a car. After awhile you begin to think that no trip is worth it, so we'll look in the freezer and garden and make do.

After Quincy goes to bed, my life is mine again. I know that tomorrow he'll be awake early anticipating a hearty farm breakfast. I'll go up to his room and pull up the shades. We'll gaze out across the field and pond looking for the possibilities for this day. We'll smell the pancakes, and for once Quincy is out of his pajamas and into his clothes in a flash.

Secret Vices

I have been enjoying a new Enya CD. Those harmonious sounds leak out the doors to melt into the night of fireflies and stars, and the lilting beat lifts my spirits. Most of my family and friends would scoff at my choice. Andy's preferance are those very strident Bach harpsichord pieces that tear my ears to shreds and I must go elsewhere and listen to the sounds of the fields and forest. He's entitled to his space as I am to mine.

I listen to classical music as I work, and my preferences are usually quite mainstream. When there is too much of what I think of as 'watery' French romantic, (La Mer and it's ilk), I change to my own music, rock and roll, new age, hip hop, bluegrass. And always I come back to Mozart, and lately Mendelson's piano works.

This is one reason why I love having this room of my own, away from the main house. I can listen to whatever I want, no explanations necessary. Next, I'll sample the new Elvis Perkins album, "Ash Wednesday". No one here to make judgements from past voices.

I came from a family who had made belittlement their watchword. I quickly learned not to express what I really thought. When I came to make my own family I vowed to change this dynamic, and I think we did.

But dregs of it live on of course. I remember a few years ago when I called my daughter on her penchant for swarmy magizines about celebrities. I regret this. Who among us is so pure and "intellectual" we cannot be interested in the mainstream (low life?) take on these people who seem to have a more vivid life than we do? We know it's not so, but we do it anyway. And so, fine!

I am not sure about this new Elvis Perkins album.. Unfortunately, at my great age, I can hear when the singer is off tune, the lyrics mundane. But I rest my case. Never get into a comfortble groove.

Easter eggs

The Old Bathtub

Here is the old bathtub we rescued from our neighbor's field a few years ago. Usually it has colorful flowers growing there to attract the butterflies I watch from where I often sit at the computer. Right now, it is full of tender lettuces of the kind you can never find in a store or market. I cover it with chicken wire so the cows ambling by do not decimate it with their careless slobber, so eager are they right now for anything to eat.

This has been a wild winter with cold we haven't ever seen in the twenty years we have been here. The spring suddenly went hot and windy most days and so dry you can see the dust devils in the lane. We replanted several citrus trees that didn't make it through the freezes so we are having to water them daily so they'll have a good start. The new fish pond is already settled in with surrounding spingerei, pentas, lobelia, and the natives among the rocks. Quincy and I put in five tiny goldfish who seem happy to be there with the numerous mosquito fish and the water lilies. I like to sit on the bench nearby and meditate on this magical microcosm.

Despite the strange weather the migrating birds are coming back on schedule. We don't see so many cardinals and titmouses (titmice?) at the feeders. I think they are busy incubating their eggs. Bluebirds can usually be seen perching on the fence out front. The hummingbirds demand that their feeders be full by dive bombing us on the porch.

The most exciting thing, birdwise, is Bob and Emily's nest! These are our resident sandhill cranes who have been here for several years. But we have never been able to find their nest until this year. Last week I saw them tossing grass and small sticks around in a spot on the ground next to the big pond. Finally this afternoon we saw one of them sitting on the nest. Later, I went out to watch them and saw the two birds change places. Emily, slightly smaller, was on the nest. Soon Bob strolled into view (where was he all day?). Very slowly, very stately, he delicately approached the nest. When he got right up to it, Emily arose, stretched out her neck to Bob. For several moments Emily pecked at the ground, and then, very slowly, Bob sank down, the faithful spouse on duty.

I worry about these birds and their upcoming parenthood. There are large cows tromping around, and the pond is full of alligators. And coyotes, ye gads. We are going away for five days. I wonder how the time will go for these elegant birds? They'll sit on those eggs in ninety degree sun, or in the rain and thunderstorms that have been promised. And each morning they'll greet the day with their wild vocalizations.

The barn tonight is full of fireflies. And wrens nesting everywhere.

We had a salad tonight of red lettuce, snow peas and our first asparagus - a perfect accompaniment to Andy's thin crust pizza topped with the last broccoli florets from the garden. When we return the broccoli will be all gone to flowers which will make the butterflies happy.

I am so eagerly anticipating our few days in New York City! We have opera and play tickets, museums and galleries to explore, music to hear and friends to see. I love the energy and color and motion of New York, the buildings and noise and possibilities. But I know that at some point I will be ready to leave all that teeming life, that brushing against so many people, the blaring sounds, the restaurants, the hermetically sealed hotel. I will be glad to get back to this paradise of space and the subtlety of spring changing into summer.

Happy Easter!

Parts of my life

We are having the last blast of winter today. The gusts of wind have been so strong bringing in the cold front, a huge oak tree along our driveway toppled over. It was weak from lightning damage a few years ago. It's too big for Andy and Warren to slay it with the chain saws so the tree man has been summoned and will likely appear tomorrow.

I have been enjoying the land. I can see the pond while I hang out the clothes and enjoy the warmth of early sun. Ducks, anhingas, and other water birds are thick on the surface of the water. The cranes still hover around the edge but I still cannot see exactly where their nest is. Every few minutes they holler and flap. The vegetable garden is full of hummingbirds after the broccoli flowers they must make do with since other flowering plants are scarce so far.

On such a chilly day Lola, the dog keeps watch on everything from the couch. It's a good time for hunkering down in the studio, pictured today, to complete a couple of quilts that must go to the long arm quilter lady next week. Seems to be my blue period. I am trying to use up the fabric I have. The clay room is full of many Lacoochee kids' works drying to be fired next week while they are on spring break.

There is a lot to do here! Many acres, cattle, citrus, two houses, a pool, all the plants and gardens, stuff that always needs to be maintained and fixed. We have a lot of energy, but we do treasure any help we can find. Warren, the farm manager, is a partner, and can be called in a pinch to fix a valve on a pump or save the a/c when we have fifteen guests on hand.

Bruce, the wonderful handyman, can and will do anything. He 'exercises' the generator, maintains the water treatment machines, and remembers when we need to change various filters. He can build various imaginative solutions to our problems. He appears sporadically and we give him a list. I do not have to track him down and beg him to come. He just comes.

Since we have many guests (all wonderful!), we do have to think about maintaining the house and guest house. Dog hair, flying pollen, kids and general life take a toll. So, being as prosperous as we are, we thought it would be a good idea to have a cleaning person come once a week to hoe out, vacuum, dust, clean the bathrooms etc. For several years we had a neighbor woman come in. Often she brought her daughter and they were the twin tornadoes. The house sparkled. Then these two wonderwomen left because of other jobs. They left us with Tracy (someone they knew and liked from work).

It verges on the embarrassingly unseemly to complain about household help. (the servant problem, oh la!) Tracy, cheery and friendly, drives up in her really giant 4WD truck, gets out her caddy of cleaning materials. But nothing seems to get really cleaned. I have made check lists, supervised every time she's here, encouraged, suggested, flat out instructed. We had to get past the idea that she's to come on a regular schedule. We don't want her showing up when we are in the middle of a meeting here or have twenty guests who must raise their legs as the vacuum zooms by.

I tell her that I know she was not trained to do housecleaning (few of us are!). I tell her that I will never ask her to do anything I would not and do not do. I never ask her to shovel out mess; we are pretty neat. I give specific instructions. We pay top dollar for her services and all her social security tax. A pretty sweet deal, I would think. But, she is often late, comes on a different day, has to go to a funeral, has dental surgery, suddenly gets the vapors and has to leave after an hour etc. When she's in top form, she'll clean both houses in under two hours. (Try that!) I tell her that we pay her for four hours and if she can't see anything else to do, I'll suggest something. Such as dusting or maybe vacuuming the stairs. Maybe I am out of line?

Seems so churlish to complain. I do wonder about our American work ethic here. I am thinking of letting Tracy go and trying to get one of the Hispanic moms I know to do it. $100 a week plus more for special projects is not to be sneezed at. Maybe we'll do it ourselves. Andy and I are a famous cleaning team and together we can make everything glow in three hours. But I like and trust Stacy so I suppose we'll keep trying some more.

I am certainly acutely aware of the dire economic problems cascading upon us in this country. I am also very thankful to be o.k. Our pants are frayed and our cars are old and we don't eat out much. (Why would we when everything we consume is right here- and so fresh?) I think and divinely hope that we are truly resetting our impulses of greed and entitlement.