Need to Play

The four of us- 'the garden ladies' as we are known, because we secured the grant for this community garden, and continue to be there for a time each weekday, have been puzzled by the irrigation system problems. It was all set up, running beautifully, and timed to water every day, morning and evening.

But almost every day we notice that the spigots are turned off or the sprinkler heads are turned every which way. Last week when I was there with many kids what I saw was that they ran to the tools, got dixie cups from the garden bin, rummaged around to find every last seed, no matter what it was. And then, with a satisfied sigh they settled down to PLAY in the pile of dirt we use for the raised beds! They flung the soil about, excavated for worms and grubs, dug with any tools they could find, piled the dirt into the wagon and then dumped it out back onto the dirt pile. They loved it! Of course the irrigation system was discombobulated!

This is what we wanted, what a children's garden should be! By now, after a long harvest season  and the beginning of a new one, these kids are confident. They pick and eat the last of the broccoli and the pea pods. They break off the huge collard leaves, stuff them in bags to take home for dinner.

 They love to be outdoors, and they especially love the freedom to dig and get dirty. Yeah, they'll water and weed, but what they really want is a HUGE dirt pile, some tools, small containers, and maybe even some small vehicles and plastic people. Unfortunately, this is not to be in the careful and circumscribed world of FCAT. But we do encourage the digging and have rethought the irrigation system!

After this long year in the garden we have learned so much, most of it unexpected. But what I have learned all over again is that these kids, like all kids, need to play!
So much the better that they know that they can grow and eat good things along the way. They know where vegetables come from and they know that in the garden their teachers become lax and limp and cast a blind eye to their capers on the dirt pile. A triumph!

Our grandson, Quincy, is staying here for his spring break. He's eight, and unlike the public school garden kids I mostly see, he's a student at a private school that has a richness of play materials- blocks, clay, art materials, a school garden. But still, he needs to have uncounted minutes and hours to explore his own world which is now Lego. He spends hours constructing huge habitats. He explains them to me and I try to respond in appropriate ways. (What's a grandma for?)

Quincy knows that here on a ranch everyone has to do chores. So he pulls on his boots and gloves and cheerfully helps us clean up the downed trees from yesterday's storm. He's really learning to be a big help, he's strong and willing. I see him playing on the downed tree, reveling in his strong young body.  But I know he is really wanting to get back to his most important work- that imaginative play!

Here on our ranch, Quincy is kind of a prince .- and he knows it! But a prince has to set and clear the table, do some chores. And what he really gets here is the time to play.

We all need to play!

Carlos

Carlos first came to my attention in maybe the third grade. All the kids had the  assignment to present the biographies of their favorite celebrity. The class had many entries in this assignment: all were about the usual teen aged idols and a few sports stars. All were quite dismal and banal in their presentations.

And then, Carlos stood up with his hand written notes. He spoke about Gandhi, and suddenly the room was quiet. The other kids clearly had no idea about this man and his ideas, but they were enthralled by Carlos' and his enthusiasm and careful research.

The school knew that this boy was exceptional, but in this tiny impoverished place, no one knows what to do with the few gifted kids that pass by their purview.

I tracked Carlos through his elementary years and we became friends. He is a Mexican boy, and entered this country illegally on his mom's back. Later, I became friends with his mother who has helped us with our summer camp, and since then has become the best housekeeper we have ever had. (If she were a legal citizen she would be running something, no doubt.)

Carlos has gone on to middle school, the one that enrolls all the Lacoochee Mexicans. I worry that he is not being challenged and from time to time I make it possible for him to be a member of the soccer team, or go to camp, or go on a trip to Washington, D.C.

Carlos, even with the backing of a strong but struggling family invested in education, needs to have the vision of that wide wide world that may be possible. From this family and their community, I have learned how difficult it is to be undocumented in America, how terrified they are, like so many others, to contemplate the fate of this highly gifted kid who could soar. But he's illegal and they worry about this all the time.

As we read in the NYT today, so many high achieving but poor kids just do not have any idea that they could go free to the most selective colleges. (They have not heard of Smith or Yale or ..) They settle for the local community colleges, and there is nothing wrong with that in most cases. We need to ask why those so-called college advisors in the high schools are not directing these gifted, but poor kids to the highest and best.

But, Carlos needs more challenge, and if I have anything to do with it, he'll be there one day at MIT or Brown or wherever.

I am doing what I can. I am trying to give Carlos  some vision about the future.

Twins visit!

Here are Emilio and Valentina in baskets. They are about to break out and crawl like crazy around the house. Emilio will head for the book shelves and if there are any loose books he'll pull them out. Valentina, who crawls even faster (maybe 20 mph?) will search for the dog.

It was such a wonderful visit! These kids' parents are endlessly patient and loving, talking to their children in two languages and seeming to savor every moment, nothing too hard to do for them. We provided vegetables from the garden that were ground up in the baby food grinder, just so, and the kids mushed all the food into their mouths, splatted blueberries on the floor and all the fourteen of us, the critical mass including my best closest grandson, eight years old now, enjoyed it all immensely. We all cooked enormous communal meals.

March in Florida is totally glorious, though a tad chilly right now. Emilio and Valentina seemed very interested in the outdoor life here as we trundled them around in the stroller and the golf cart and in the back of the pick up to explore the property. When I took Emilio out to the vegetable garden to gather the vegetables for dinner, he started cramming lettuce leaves into his mouth, flinging the unwanted ones away.

It was somewhat exhausting with so many folks here and the necessity of leaping to keep the twins from harm and keeping the house and kitchen going. But everyone was on duty to help. I certainly enjoyed every minute. Grandma talking. I love it!

Growing Old with Siblings

My friend Suzanne is about to retire next week. She has six or seven sisters and one of them has taken the vow of silence and retreated to a nunnery. Suzanne is excited to think about going to live with her favorite sister in a lovely place north of us where she'll have her own space, the garden, and the company of her sister and her husband she likes. Snip snap and she's got it all together. Not so easy for everyone.

I am one of five children. One brother died young, another brother leads a life circumscribed by his disabilities from cerebral palsy. So that leaves me, my big brother two years older, and our little sister and we are all getting older.

Big brother Brooks lives as far from me as anyone could be. None the less we manage to see each other at least once a year and for years we have taken trips together with our spouses to wonderful places around the globe. And those have been some of the best trips of my life. For the shank of my working life, big brother and I were cordial but attenuated by circumstance and distance.

And now, I cannot imagine not having the clot of memories we have together and the times we help each other, all the conversations on the fly, the books we send each other, the long phone calls, and the sense of connection we have to the important things in our lives. We have the same drive to give back to our communities. He plays music in old folks homes, has an NPR music show, connects with his neighbors, and is into local politics. And I do the school garden, community organizing, and am a volunteer teacher in our local school. In retirement we both have the same vision.

Our talented little sister is more enigmatic. Right now she is midway through a two month stay at an ashram where she does not speak, only meditates. This is the sister who went on a pilgrimage a couple of years ago through northern Spain to Santiago. This is the sister who makes incredible tile installations all over the world. This is the much married sister who is deep into sobriety issues. Seems that she is about herself.

I hope to begin understanding her, but it is hard. I have missed connecting with her and so treasured a postcard she sent me yesterday about her ascetic life.

My other sibling is Maria, adopted by each other many years ago. I needed another sister and she had no siblings. This wonderful brilliant Maria is my sister in every way. I can ask her and tell her anything, she's a part of the family, we can not talk for days, and then talk all the time. She gives me advice, listens, and I listen. She will pick me up at the airport in the middle of the night. She loves my grandson like I do and we love to hang out. I think about her all the time.

So, we are all growing old together and we have this thick bond that will help us through the tough times ahead.

What if it were just you, the one and only, growing old alone? I can't imagine it. I have this wonderful and robust family network, and we'll see each other through.

So Cold but Spring has Sprung

My neighbor's chickens are laying like crazy so tonight we had a yummy omelet full of Swiss chard from the garden. We hope this will be the last cold snap (I covered the tender potatoes) and everything else will just have to manage overnight.

Today I took collards and a mess of lettuces to my neighbor who appreciates this gift. I also take some tomato and pepper starts to other neighbors I think will grow on these heirloom plants.

Tonight, as always, I gaze into the sky that is quite pristine with no lights from Earth. I can see the constellations and the whole Milky Way, and even a few harbingers of spring- the fireflies.

We live here, way out on the margin of the Green Swamp, nothing toxic, everything perfect in this wildlife corridor. The sand hill cranes elegantly walk the fields, tens of deer cavort at the margins of the pastures, red shouldered hawks scream overhead, and there are dozens of birds on our many feeders. When we awake in our bedroom without curtains or shades and open to the elements, we hear the morning cacophony of the birds and see the hummingbirds zooming fast by the windows.

There is something so magical about experiencing the natural world! Kids who come here understand this and they are enthralled by the ant lions, the yellow rat snake on the porch, the armadillos in the yard, and the sighting of deer across the field. They understand something amazing as they watch the birth of a calf and salute the first wobbly steps.

We are looking forward to the first visit here from our grandchild twins this week. Right now they are too little to remember much, but they'll see the chickens, pick oranges with Grandpa, and ride around the fields in the golf cart. They will go out at night with Grandma and look at the stars.

Life is sweet.

The Baby Needs New Shoes

Being grandma to eight grandchildren is the best. They always need new shoes! Here you see the eight year old in our playroom at the ranch. Undoubtedly, his shoes are in shreds, flopped over as he pronates.

The twins are not into shoes yet. They are still crawling fast, steering with bare feet, but, no doubt, grandma will send on those easy velcro shoes they'll require quite soon. Just today I sent shoes to the ones who live out west whose feet grow and grow.

How are we to think about our kids and their progeny who need so much from us? (college tuition, money for camp?) We were the generation who may have been the last one to actually do better than our parents financially. Our parents did not remotely imagine that they would contribute to their grand children's education. For better or for worse we were launched.

And now it is our pleasure to buy those shoes, or whatever, for these grand kids. This is a new world for us all who are trying to make it work.