Talking to the younger generation

There are some people in my life, some family, some friends, with whom I have such easy communication access. We call each other and keep each other informed and we try out new ideas and talk our heads off. This is what keeps me alive. We do not keep count on whose turn it is to pick up the phone or text or e-mail. With these people sometimes it is weeks between communications, but we know we'll hear from one another.

And there are others I love who never seem to pick up their end. I wonder if I should just let this or that connection dangle? I wonder if they would ever connect with me again? But I could never just let that connection shrivel.

In the long life I have lived I have had many many friends of convenience and time, and they were dear and important to me and I treasured their friendship. But they and I have moved on in time and place. (I do not want to go to class reunions!)

Old people such as I (seventy-one!) know that our fifteen minutes of fame are over, and we have been invisible for a long time. (unless we give money!)

I know that so many young people for whom I have made quilts and time still think of me and have their time here with us as important memories. That is enough and a satisfaction.

We and the close couple- friends we have would love to have our children keep us in their loop. We have tried to raise independent children, and for long stretches they do not communicate with us at all! I think about this. Our own kids are like popcorn. For a time one or the other or the other keep us informed. Then, nothing. I hesitate to call or communicate because they are busy.

Hard to be connected and we must all work at it. Friendship and communication is not easy but we must always keep trying.

Seriously Grandma!

Here are the twins! They were born on Friday, four weeks early. Emilio is the smallest at just under five pounds and his sister, Valentina is a pound larger.

Here is Dad with Emilio. According to their big brother, they are "frisky".

Tania, their Mom, had serious surgery after the c-section, and this was what made me so anxious and worried I could have jumped over the moon.

But, now, a few days later, Tania is recovering, pumping her own milk, and spending time with the babies. The whole gang will probably go home together in a few days. Can any of you imagine the scene?? Fortunately, Tania's large family is so on duty at the hospital, especially, Rosa, her mom.

Childbirth is the great leveler. We women who have children each have our childbirth stories and memories. It is the sisterhood, and we never forget the details and we cheerfully share them with each other. All kids are born naked, bottom line! After that, every child is different.

Our exquisite pain of childbirth will be forgotten, but that moment of triumph will always be remembered. For Tania, who would have died in an earlier century, she is due for a purple heart at least.

This dear woman told me a day before the birth that she spent time sitting in a rocking chair and read a story to her boy and girl.

My son has been working on completing a new bathroom addition on their house so it will be finished by the time everyone comes home from the hospital - which will be soon!

While the birth drama was unfolding, Grandpa and I were on a road trip with Quincy (who used to be our youngest grandson, and now is supplanted by Emilio.)

When we got back to the ranch Quincy immediately went to his workspace and made birthday cards for his new cousins. Then we held hands and went out into the night in the woods to look at the fireflies.

A new week, new grandchildren, new people under my heart. How sweet life is!

Loving Rural America

The folks I see every day are the salt of the earth. Sometimes I see them as fat and ignorant and ill-educated. They are prone to vote for the likes of Sarah Palin and Newt Gingrich, if they vote at all. They haven't understood the facts of Obamacare and how much better off they are for it. They just do not want to have to pay for insurance. They do not realize that every tax payer is footing the bill for all the emergency room visits uninsured folks do. They do not really understand conservatism as the GOP defines it. They may have one issue: don't mess with my guns. They don't want government intrusion but they love Medicare and Social Security. Some folks think that intrusive ultra sounds for women going for abortion are o.k.

But these folks are the salt of the earth. As a person who attends many community development meetings and volunteers in a major way, I see these people who are just as dedicated as I am to making a better life for the unfortunate. These people build houses, get infrastructure grants, foster troops of girl and boy scouts, raise money for all kinds of community efforts. They do not talk of politics for the most part. They see a local job to be done and they figure out a way to do it. This humbles me for sure.

But I still haven't a clue about... anyway, we all speak of our gardens. Who, actually has tomatoes ready to pick? Anyone want some collards? Not.

Disaster at Quincy's Museum

A big windstorm blew down an ancient magnolia tree on Quincy's museum this week. The damage was not too extreme and we pulled the branches off the roof with the tractor. None of the exhibits inside were harmed. A mouse exited from under the dead armadillo. The roof can be fixed.

What a gentle life we lead here in our nature preserve in the Green Swamp! We constantly watch the peaceable kingdom of birds, deer, fox squirrels and so many other critters in our view. We tend our gardens and rejoice in the pleasure of being here and hearing the buzz of the hummingbirds. We wait for the chittering of the chimney swifts who will come soon to inhabit our chimney. The wrens are loudly nesting under the porches, the hawks are impossibly shrill, and at night the owls screetch and chuckle. Already I hear the constant din of frogs and evening insects.

And what a gentle life I have as a volunteer teacher in our local public school. I love my students who are so connected to me, and whose eyes shine when they see what is coming for them this day.

I cannot imagine how awful it must be to be an Afghan child in these days! From here this life they have seems so grim and scraping. What happened yesterday when a US soldier killed families is just unimaginably terrible. How can we think about this?

I remember when I was sixteen and traveling overland with my dad and two siblings in this area many years ago. No matter what my dad said, we kids looked at the life we saw, and we concluded that these people were so strange, so foreign, so poor, we couldn't connect at all. The faceless women whom we barely ever saw were covered with dark cloth and scurried around in the shadows. The men, as far as we could see, did nothing but sit in bars. Secretly, we called them "the drones".

It is really hard to understand such a culture. How can we expect that the average military recruit can understand, especially when some of these people are gunning for them? Still, there is no excuse for shooting whole families and putting them into a fire. I am not surprised that a US soldier could lose it and do such a heinous thing, though it is never forgivable.

Most of our military rank and file come from the lower American class. They have been brought up to accept spanking in the public schools. They think that having guns is great and might is right. They do not think hard about issues of kindness and trust. But,I also know that many of our military have done an incredible job of bringing a better life to the Afghani people.

That said, it is probably time for us to get out of Afghanistan. We can support them in what they can do to make some kind of country they can live in. The U.S. can't do this for them. We have different agendas.

So, we can pull the downed tree off Quincy's museum, but it's up to him to dust off the exhibits.

Just a fantasy, maybe?

I pushed for it in this poorest of poor public schools, but still I was given the eight brightest kids in the fourth grade. I am a volunteer! I proposed that I would teach them algebra. I had all the materials required; all I needed was some space and a time slot.

So, for many weeks those eight kids from several different classrooms appear once a week to do math with 'Ms. Molly'. Right on the dot they come, and with no fanfare, they get out their folders and their math materials and start to work.

We have one hour. I like to begin the class by presenting them with something intriguing that I think will expand their minds. I have brought such things as an interesting sound machine, Russian nesting dolls, a pedometer, a pack of cards or an interesting game. I give them strategies.

Then they are eager to get to work. By now they are easily navigating positive and negative. They are familiar with how algebra can solve just about anything! They help each other, consult, tutor, and rejoice in the amazing math we are doing.
We often speak to each other about learning styles. By now, many weeks in, we know who needs to be at a separate work station, who needs to know immediately if they are on the right track. (Ms. Molly, is this right??) I know which kids really work best standing up, which kids need to tell me something that happened to them before they can begin concentrated work. They always ask if I could please, please have lunch with them. They love it when I can because I let them eat outside and then spend quality time rolling down hill or playing freeze tag and they talk, talk to me.

And through all of this I am just free with these amazing kids. No one ever comes into our class, no one ever checks up, we have quiet in our space (which is usually a spare room full of extra tables, chairs and desks and vacuum cleaners) But for this hour a week this is our place..

My fantasy is that these kids will someday be really important persons in their communities. How can I make this happen? So far I work alone (and I salute this school for trusting me). I have never heard from a parent or from anyone in the school. Once, I corralled a teacher I know and showed him some of the work we are doing.

I am no Mr. Lang (the guy who told every sixth grader in NYC that he would pay for college if they continued on and graduated from high school.) We are barely up to the one percent, fairly prosperous but with many family obligations. We are saving for the college educations of eight grandchildren!

So, how can I even begin to make it possible for these eight gifted kids to have the vision of what unimaginable stuff they could do with the brains they have? These kids have few resources, some of them are undocumented. They come from fragmented families or working families who could never think about Harvard or Duke (if they even knew about Ivy League or equivalent) But they have brilliant kids! Hah!

I am thinking that I need to get the parents on board, start with a summer camp program.
These kids are NOT to be left behind! We need their talents in our society. These kids do not have helicopter parents who smoothly pave the way for them. These kids need to have a vision of where they can go and excell and put their mark on the world.

Somehow, I am determined to be part of opening that window for them.