Desperately poor and no way out

What I have been doing every day as a volunteer at our local elementary school could not have prepared me for what I experienced today. I have been reading to kids every day in their classroom. And I have been extremely critical of what I see as a dismal and uninviting place for children to be. I finish this semester dispirited that I could not have made much of a difference for these kids.

The kids clearly love having me come and they seem starved for personal conversation and connection. Most days, a fair number of the kids are absent - who knows why? Certainly these eight year olds have no control over the act of getting to school. So, how can they really focus on a chapter book and what has happened in the story so far? I am a dramatic reader and I choose engaging books but many of them squirm and twist and ask to go to the bathroom and pick and pat at every part of me as I sit in the designated rocking chair with the book we are reading. They quickly explore any bag or purse I bring and they perk up when I bring one of the many activities (crafts, food, origami..) These activities are difficult because every single child needs and demands personal attention as they try to do the given task.

I love these kids! For more than thirty years I was an excellent teacher of middle class helicoptered children. They had a solid general knowledge and by third grade had good reading and math skills. But here, this is not the case through no fault of their own.

In that dreary classroom with no natural light and nothing inviting, I now see it as a respite from the home life so many of them have. More than 95% of them are on free lunch and breakfast.

A few weeks ago I mentioned to the school secretary that I would be happy to contribute to any school outreach to families over the holidays. I have known that so many families depend on the Back Pack program that feeds families over the weekends. Then, one day, the school secretary told me that she had a family in need of a holiday food basket. A single mom with five children under ten!

O.K. I put together several large boxes of food with lots of protein, bags of rice and dried beans, applesauce, canned vegetables. My grandson got into it and contributed a huge bag of lightly used outgrown clothes and toys. After a major Walmart trip, we wrapped a doll and several gifts and clothes and games for the family. A lot of stuff!

Then the school contributed a frozen turkey! I was really reluctant to deliver all this. I always want to be anonymous. But what was I thinking?? This was not about me. This family just was desperate. So my husband and I drove the bounty to the designated home, and as planned, the family was waiting.

At first, I just saw an ordinary small block house with roses blooming in front. There were no piles of derelict toys and cars about. Only a broken above ground small pool and a tilted basketball hoop , nothing notable.

It looked like thousands I have seen driving by. The neighborhood was all the same.

When we arrived I saw several people in the car port, a man in a wheelchair and a couple of women. They were waiting for us. All of them were smoking and the air was heavy with the fumes. The mom, I guess, was about 25 or so and she seemed sad and had such a low affect, but she was clearly glad to have all this stuff delivered. A very small girl appeared and then we went in to put down the heavy boxes of food.

Inside, the space was very dark and crammed with large couches. In the gloom I saw a baby in a walker near the enormous t.v. tuned to something unfamiliar to me. The kitchen area was piled with junk. We were only inside for the time it took to deliver the food. But I saw the raw desperation of this life. I will always remember the flat expression of this mother of five. She barely could say "Thank you".

Where, oh where does one begin to make these lives better? And how in the world could I expect that the kids I read to, who come from these homes, could possibly be interested in watercress sandwiches that Lewis the Swan ate in the fanciest hotel in Boston??

The mom looked blankly at the frozen turkey twirling on my husband's wrist. She said she didn't know how to cook it. It was obvious that she didn't have an oven up to the job, nor was she about to try. I told her that she might be able to get a neighbor to help, and, hey, there are instructions on the wrapper.

So we chunked that turkey and all the boxes of food down in the terrible kitchen and left feeling that no gifts had been given either way.

As we begin the Christmas season with all the gifts and great food and wonderful family and friends I am humbled and grateful.

Our Fifteen Minutes of fame, or whatever

When I retired from work nine years ago, it was new territory for me. I had worked every year of my life, and for forty years I had been a director/teacher in a small private school in Pinellas County. Each day was wonderful and full of challenge and great colleagues and the children! The ripples from my time there ran wide and still I hear from many former students and I take pride in their accomplishments.

In retirement, you don't necessarily become a non-person, but you do have to know that you could become irrelevant if you wish. You could play golf all day or sit in front of the T.V. And that would be o.k.

You could do something quite wonderful, quite different. You have the time and energy. I think of my friend, Richard Riley, who lives not too far from me in this rural community. He is also a retiree, from Maine, and he has been here as long as me.

Richard and his wife, Kathy, have carved out an amazing place in this community. Richard is a gifted photographer and he has set out to document everything that happens here. He posts his photos on Facebook so all of us who live here can instantly see what and who about this day or yesterday. He has been a major player in the community development of our tiny impoverished place and is tireless in every effort. He has twice taken on the leadership of the community development group, always making sure the agenda, minutes, plans, are perfect.

Both Richard and Kathy are so accessible to all of us in the community it is a model for any CEO!
Kathy's great interest is in the Garden Club and in our circle that grows the community garden.

Most of all, I see these folks as humble, trying to do their best, and being so effective as the glue for our lives here. Their ripples will flow wide.

Richard writes a weekly blog telling everyone what the upcoming community events are. He also includes links to the recent newspaper articles concerning our community. And, as a liberal Democrat and atheist, sometimes he gently lets his thoughts be known.

I think that the Rileys and I have that same sense of adventure about this later and interesting phase of life. You just find a place you can be and then do it! And it's freeing to know that you are doing it because you love it and find it important. No need, now, to consider resumes or awards or whether you'll get into Harvard or Heaven.

So Richard photographs the senior doings and the Girl Scout cookie sales and the food banks and everything else in-between. He keeps the local government honest, and he is always there.

Sometimes I see some of Richard's photographs that are so wonderful I want him to have an exhibit, or do a book (or become famous!). But, I deeply believe that folks such as Richard are in their highest and best place right now. This lovely man will go to his grave knowing that he made a difference, indeed, documenting and leading a community.

I keep on going to the local school every day to read out loud and make sure those kids have some practical skills. I hope it makes a difference.

Before I must fade away into an old folks home, this retirement deal is really a great time of life!

The Pinnacle of Beauty

Tonight I saw on Facebook a lovely photo of one of my former students. Her dad posted this on the event of her graduation from college. It was almost hard for me to recognize this young woman who is now so beautiful and composed. But I could see the wonderful girl she was, crooked teeth, skinny long legs, lanky hair, so bright. All that. I loved her then. And I knew she would turn out to be terrific. She has!

It is the pinnacle of perfection: a college degree, flawless skin and a slim body and so many options for her life.

I love seeing how these young persons turn out! I know they will have hard times discovering who they will be and what they want to do. They will get love handles and bunions and all the rest. But for now everything is perfect.

I do not want to punch this bubble of perfection, but I do agonize about the future world for these kids who have been so carefully nurtured, always empowered, always loved and cherished by their parents, teachers and the community.

Is this enough? Are we preparing our young for the very different world that is to be?

My Yard

Here is a photo of ibis on a cypress tree. Guess they are enjoying the high water we have had this winter.

I have not written this blog lately because I have been so busy with family and community and everything else. Also, I am trying to settle down and write about what I love, what interests me.

This is not about growing older, nor fashion, nor cooking! What really interests me is looking at all the natural stuff on our property.

These days I am fascinated with the water that comes and goes from the swamp to the river and back. We had eight inches of rain last week (all in one day!). It took a couple of days to see the back and forth flushing of the swamp and river water. Early mornings I drive the mile to get the newspapers from our box. Usually I stop at the box culvert bridge to check on the conditions and look at the birds. This morning there were dozens of wood storks, way more than I have ever seen on this place. Hundreds of ibis too. Do they text each other that the water is up and full of tasty things to eat? The harsh cackling of bird disagreement were everywhere! (or was it just plain joy?)

This is the view from the bridge. Usually it is just a trickle of water from the swamp, but now the water spreads out over everywhere.

The birds are happy and so am I! This winter, so far, has been kind and warm and taken care of our vegetable garden and all the others. I went up to put in some time in the school garden today and picked a peck of green beans, some tomatoes and broccoli which I gave out to anyone I could find.

For supper tonight we had fried green tomatoes, collards, a wonderful salad of our lettuces and grapefruit. I love the bounty of the land!

Way after dark, I heard the cacophony of the sandhill cranes. Why is this? They are supposed to be asleep. So many interesting questions and so much to keep on learning.

Last week my son and grandson and I went out at night with our flashlights to see if we could find any alligators in the pond. We saw no alligator eyes but we did see some amazing bioluminescent points of light all around the edge of the water. Grandson thinks it comes from tiny worms.

This is the season I love best, early winter before the frosts when the mornings are cool, the days are warm and the nights are chilly.

Reading- Again!

It has been sometime since I last published this blog. My reading gig for four days a week in a public school third grade goes on.. I always thought I could reach kids through reading interesting books and I have thought that I have a sort of gift for choosing exactly the right books.

I am humbled. I have read a number of books out loud to this class - Road Dahl, E.B. White, "Mr Popper's Penguins, "Farmer boy", some poetry. Many of these books are a jumping off place for interesting conversations with the kids. In this class of twenty kids, some of them are gripped by the reading and follow the story. Many others are lost and are unable to follow the thread and do not yet have the imagination and furniture in their minds to do this.

 Many others have spotty attendance so, of course they cannot sustain interest. And some just cannot maintain interest because they don't know the words (many are struggling to be fluent in English) and are so needy they just want to pluck at my ankles and constantly vie for my attention.

There are three or four kids who sit close to me and are truly interested. Out of twenty! Yikes! Most of the others fade in and out, roll on the floor, twirl, tattle, have to go pee, and have back conversations.

What really interests these kids are the "activities" I sometimes bring. They have loved the origami and finger knitting and making gods' eyes, and a penguin habitat, the making of p and j sandwiches from their written directions. These kids are starved to DO things!

 When I come in they explore my bag and purse like curious monkeys because they know I will always have something interesting to share. They love it when I come in with a huge load of books from the public library. They love to tell me stuff and there is just not enough of me to go around!

Some days, I am dispirited and discouraged and think that it really isn't enough to bring reading to this (or any other) class. I really know that what has happened in the first five years of each of these kids' lives probably has set them on their life course. I must believe in the outliers, I suppose.

And I am dispirited by the gray doggedness of the teaching staff as I see it. Seems that there is this perpetual impetus to put those square pegs into round holes, i.e. THE TESTS!  I see little joy or curiosity and for belly laugh humor I go to the custodial staff.

When I signed up for this I had little idea of the dailiness it would entail. When I make a promise to kids, I always keep it, and so I will be there until the end of the year.

And what a lot I will have learned so far.

Thinking about Ebola

I am glued every day to page sixteen of the NTY because of their stellar coverage of Ebola as it plays out in west Africa and the fallout in first world countries.

With the exception of one case, Mr. Duncan, our first - and so botched- everyone who has been treated here has recovered so far. Today I learned in specifics how these Ebola cases are treated in such dire circumstances in Africa. Just the simple hydration of patients, the monitoring of electrolytes, the tending of other disease issues such as malaria, can make such a huge difference in outcomes. There is such a need for the basic medicine we can do so well here! There is such a need for more health care workers on the ground in west Africa! There is such a need for ambulances and ultra sound machines and all the small things our medical institutions take for granted. I read today in the NYT how the health care workers are constantly figuring out new ways to make their practices better. The recoveries will increase as these afflicted places get more resources.

We cannot imagine how hard it is to be doing this in the extreme heat and humidity of equatorial Africa, covered in heavy personal protection garments. We cannot imagine (in our comfortable lives) how it can be that so many Americans and other people have gone there to the Ebola region of west Africa because they have the mission to care for each person in the world. These people are our heroes.

It saddens me that a few politicians have made hay with this for their own benefit and drum up panic. Glad to note that our Florida governor has stepped back from this.

Several times I have made trips to west Africa: Ghana, Ivory Coast and with stops in other countries.
The images and emotions that stick with me are all positive. I loved the colorful cloth worn by everyone, the warmth of the people, and the feeling of safety I had everywhere. (Yes! Yes! I know how dire and cruel some of the civil uprisings have been). I loved the markets and the unending tracts of dreadful slums with their red earth slurry after a rain. Most of all I loved those people. I loved being in a tent with a head man of some tribe. As we talked I was fascinated with his elephantiasis of his leg, and I politely declined his offer of palm wine.

Even though the poverty and differences were so cuttingly clear, I understood, in some of those encounters, that we were in this world together. I loved being in an intimate colonial dining room with the university chancellor and I loved watching huge geckos climbing the walls, and I wondered if the spectacularly colorful wrap of our host would ever fall to the floor.

Instead of the panic, we need to understand. This epidemic will be quelled, but we need to help.
Especially here in the U.S. where a fifth of our population has African roots and provides us all with the traditions and warmth of African conscience, we need to get over the initial panic. It's going to be O.K.

Plain Sunday

There are very few weekend days when I am free to do non purposeful things. But today we had no guests, no obligations beyond the usual care taking of the gardens and the house.

So, here is the new doll house I am making from a kit. It looked so cute on line, and I thought of my granddaughter who will be visiting here in a couple of weeks.

The directions are totally incomprehensible, requiring tiny nimble fingers and much flapping of pages. When we first opened the box, Andy, Quincy and I organized all the many pages of balsa wood and set to work. Quincy who is now ten and an expert Lego model builder was very helpful and his spacial sense is awesome. Andy, the grandpa who is a talented and experienced woodworker took the lead in constructing the basics 'by the book". None of us had fun doing it. I was just hanging back, biting my tongue, wanting everyone to enjoy the activity. After a number of burns from the hot glue, we abandoned the project.

I had remembered the wonderful doll house I had made from a kit years ago when our youngest was about eight. That project was one I looked forward to working on when I had a moment after the work day. When it was finally finished down to the roof shingles and the lights inside, we were all happy with it. It was a fixture of our playroom for years and finally just fell apart from the hard play it endured.

But this one is smaller and I am in a different place. As this one (The Buttercup) sat on the craft table waiting for more work, I began to think of how one of my sons approached model building. Chris was a maniacal model builder of airplanes and cars. They were plastic and required glueing that was probably really bad for his health. When he approached the task of completing a model, he just went for it the way he thought it should be. If there were pieces left over, that was O.K. And the completed models were perfect.

So, I thought of Chris and today started in again on the Buttercup. Who cares whether the door jams or the window sashes are inside or outside? Just decorate the roof how I want. Put the doors where they look good. Use lots of hot glue to keep everything together. Abandon those pieces I can't figure out. Think about how much fun granddaughter Caroline and I will have painting and decorating the inside and making furniture from the stray pieces of wood from the kit.

Doing this, I am not thinking of ebola or Syria or ISIS or fan issues. It is just a plain Sunday, a beautiful fall day. A gift.

Hobos from Mexico!

"Molly, I am worried!" Mikela is wrapped around my middle and then other kids gather around connecting to any piece of me they can. "So am I! The hobos are coming from Mexico!", says little eight year old Eli. (The names are changed to protect the innocent.) Other kids look at me with wide eyes. Seems they are all scared of these 'hobos'.

I am thinking fast. What are these 'hobos'? It's unusual for kids these days to even know about hobos.
I ask them to tell me more about hobos. "It's something very bad and it comes from Mexico and it can kill you."

O. K. We're talking about ebola and these third grade kids I read to every day are reflecting the fear whipped up by talk radio and Fox News. They just hear it vaguely and respond to their parents' fears and the media frenzy and panic. In the three minutes allotted to me I gently tell them that they have nothing to worry about here. Ebola is still in West Africa, far from here. (I wish there were handy maps in this classroom so I could show them, but not..)

I am so old I can recall practically anything. I vaguely recall my parents' fear of polio, but it didn't affect me. My husband recalls that sometime during that summer polio epidemic in the fifties he had a high fever and his parents took him to the hospital. Maybe he had polio and maybe he didn't. In any case, he's fine. But that dreaded disease was on everyone's mind at the time.

During the eighties when AIDS appeared, we were all so fearful! I often contacted my grown sons (who are not gay) to instruct them about using condoms and washing their hands. Now, I cringe at those memories.

Yes, ebola is one horrific disease, a terrible way to die, and something to be feared.

Of course, we are all on edge. But rationally, we know that ebola will not be a real threat here.

We need to tell kids on their level that they should not be afraid. We need to tell them in a gentle way that nothing is certain or uncertain but they shouldn't fear. And we have to have facts or at least the latest scientific thinking on this.

We'll be O.K.

Keeping on with the reading

What is really closest to my heart these days is the time I spend reading with the third graders in our local school. I promised that since I believe in the huge boost it gives kids to read aloud to them, I would commit to doing it every day except Friday.

So, we are well into October and we have read a Roald Dahl novel, "The trumpet of the Swam". "Mr. Popper's Penguins", some of Shel Silverstein's poems, some snake facts from the wonderful Florida series on nature.

When I peep around the doorway into their class I hear, "Ms Molly! Ms.Molly!" And I know they are eager. So am I!

I sit in a rocking chair and the kids get as close as they can, actually way too close! They constantly touch me on my toes and on my arms and tweak my earrings. One little girl, who has hearing issues, always sits very close on a chair and she hears my voice through the microphone I wear.  A few times in the reading session I must tell the kids they are WAY too close, I need air!

Sometimes it seems that the little deaf girl is pulled out of our reading circle for some kind of 'intervention'. I think that if they just left her to hear the story from beginning to end it would be better. She tells me this by constructing and writing me fan letters. She is telling me that the reading I do is important to her. I want to tell those well meaning folks to just stop! Let her scrunch up to me and listen to the story!

I read with great expression and drama and I constantly make eye contact with this kid or that. When I get to a word they might not understand, I ask them what they think it means. This is where the most advanced kids shine. They have a vague idea and sometimes they are right on.

Some kids are hard to reach but they take their cues from the others who are eagerly settling down to hear the story. They see that this is something desirable, but I don't know if they have ever given themselves permission to just enjoy the story.

One of my favorite kids, a chubby hispanic kid who is clearly new to English often sidles up to me to ask for library books that he knows I will be getting in the local library.

These kids are starved for experiences and conversation!

Fortunately, this third grade has a wonderful, warm, and organized teacher. She took a flier to include me as an everyday volunteer. She may not be a voracious reader herself, but she gets it about reading.

These kids, eight and nine, are not yet the kind of readers who devour a book a night, but I am thinking I can nudge them along on this trajectory.

In this school, one of many in our county, they have no dedicated librarian, and it shows! So, I check out many books from our town library for this class. The school library is pretty sparse and there is no one there like Michelle Martinez who knew the wants of every student.  Ah, well..

More to come.

Kids in my Life!

When I decided to be the 'reading lady' to a public school third grade, I knew that this was an everyday affair. The school is a fifteen minute drive from my house, so the half hour I spend there each day, an hour all told, has just become my habit.

Here the kids are showing the swans they made in art class because they were so intrigued with e.b. White's "The Trumpet of the Swan".

I love my afternoons reading to these kids! I love how connected they are to the story and how they remember from one day to the next. And I must confess, I love the closeness and the smell and the dimples of them as they draw close to the rocking chair from which I read. I love the brightness of their eyes as they contribute to the discussion of what is happening in the book.  And I love the unexpected things that happen.

 When the kids made the cut out swans, one child, who I think is not yet steady in English, made an origami swan-such a perfect one! He gave this to me and I was honored. The next day, when I took the books back to the library, I checked out a few about origami and brought them to this class along with some squares of good origami paper to give him. 

The next day, Alejandro had taught everyone how to make origami swans! Of course I had to do an uproar of telling them that I knew how to make an origami bumble bee (I learned when I was seven and it is still one of my best skills!) After the reading, the best part, I quickly made an origami bumble bee, crowded around by many sweaty little bodies who should have been doing what is usually expected, and I gave it to their wonderful teacher who puts up with my playfulness.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone in these public schools has time for THE TEACHABLE MOMENT? They are so consumed with the requirements of the Florida Standards or whatever they call it.

But "my" teacher is different. In her quiet, warm, yet authoritarian way, she makes all her kids comfortable. I notice how respectful she is to kids. Without fanfare she made a program so that her students could take home the library books I provide, and I never have to wonder (or pay the fines!) for these books.

One time when I went in to read I was wearing my Tai Chi shirt because I had that class next. One boy said that he was in martial arts also and we chatted a bit. He told me that he had a lot of trophies in Tai Kwan Do and he wanted to show me them. So, today, as promised, he had a box of faux gold trophies! 

Another kid from the Jr. Garden Club has promised to bring his pet snake next Wednesday. Yikes! (He doesn't think it is a python.)

I am loving being a fun, fit old lady - and the kids are the best of it.

Community Quilt

Here is the 'retirement' quilt I made for Cpl. David Hink who has retired from his post at Lacoochee as Officer Friendly.  You have seen the newspaper articles about him. We, who live here in this community know him as the friendly giant- physically and ethically. This is a gentle giant who has made a tremendous difference in our three towns. Like an iceberg, there are so many aspects to this man he never tells.

I first made acquaintance with him in the community development meetings where we hammered out a plan to remake this place. He always had good ideas and stellar connections and he listened to us all and helped us all make the connections  we needed to go forward. I always left those meetings completely energized.

This guy comes from a very different place from me! On Facebook I often take him on (respectfully, of course). And we have discussions.. Dave is a gun guy, has built himself an over the top man cave, doesn't see the need for organic gardening. Probably votes GOP.  O.K. This gentle giant takes his boy scouts to the mountains and to far cities. He works for the Boys and Girls Club in so many ways. He makes sure that the folks who live here in their poverty stricken homes have the chance to improve their lot. He collects bicycles to give away at the Christmas parties and he heads up the Empty Bowls program for the needy.

When I sometimes think that Republicans are generally a mean spirited lot, such folks as Dave Hink and Wilton Simpson come to mind as correctives.

I am humbled. I believe that when communities come together we can achieve anything! We are all colors, from every socioeconomic class, and we can truly make a difference.

Back to Grandma! Who is now reading to kids.

Well. I tried writing something different. Turns out that I am really not interested in my own aging process. Suffice to say that it goes on. So don't look for anymore on Still Spry blog. (How do I get it off Facebook?)

What I am always interested in is the usual stuff: politics, education and life in our nature preserve.
On Common Core! This school year I am doing a daily read aloud to a third grade. This is going very well and the kids love it. At first I was given a ten minute slot and it has now segued into about twenty-five minutes. I have always beaten the drum about how research shows that if you read to kids, especially from when they are very small, it pays more dividends educationally than anything else you can do.

So, I made the promise that I would go in every day and read to kids. We have already finished a Roald Dahl book and we are now about halfway through "The Trumpet of the Swan".  This isn't easy for a lot of the kids in the group. Some of them are unfamiliar with English and struggle every day. Many of them have no background knowledge, no velcro on which to hang new ideas in their minds. They do not know what Canada is, or where it might be located on the globe. There is no map in the classroom, just one pre-school type globe. They have never been to a zoo or listened to an orchestra.
These kids in this particular classroom have a great teacher who keeps order and pays attention.

 When I arrive, the kids are ready, eager and attentive. A few of them are clearly following the story and love my infrequent asides about bird imprinting or how cold it is in Canada. Most of the others are willing to try but they can't always follow.

But this is a process, and before we know it, those kids will all be on board with the read aloud time.
Today, the regular teacher was not there. There was a substitute. (Not going there.) While I was waiting for the few minutes until my group arrived, I observed the training seminar that was going on about Common Core teaching of the standards. My heart sank as I listened to a woman telling the teachers in attendance that they should consider the two cultures, European and Native American and how each group responded. Then, have the kids read the texts in the textbook (courtesy of major publishing houses) and tell in two paragraphs, with evidence! what happened.

I am thinking of the kids I know at this school. They have no idea where Europe is, let alone how Europeans got here, and they see no reason to care about this.

I am thinking that if you give kids mostly experiential education, they will take away a lot of cultural knowledge. I remember how compelling it was for my students to excavate and find Indian artifacts, and then try their hand at chipping stone axes with flint. I remember how compelling it was for my students to try and live like pioneers for a few days.

I think that a one size-fits-all plan such as the Common Core is a misguided notion for our very non-heterogenous society. This is just another panacea and in a few years of more crippling testing, another scheme will appear as the white knight on the horizon.

I take such comfort in growing our school garden. A kid catches and holds in her hands a tiny lizard and we all look at it. What kind of animal is this? It lays eggs- here's one just under the mulch- but clearly it is not a bird. So you take the moment to briefly explain and some kids will retain the science of it and pass it on. We plant bean seeds and come back to see how they have sprouted, marveling at the twin first leaves of a cotyledon. Later, we'll pick our vegetables, cook them, and relish the fresh deliciousness of our hard work. Probably, there is a Common Core textbook with desiccated text about seeds. (test coming up!)

The last hummingbird left right on schedule on September 4th. I miss those busy little creatures who have entertained us all summer. The goldenrod and the blue curls are in abundance, and in the markets there are beautiful chrysanthemums to replace the dwindling pentas and vincas of summer. The moon is full, and if I watched long enough, I would see the fall migration, flying free, drafting each other on their way south.

If only it would cool off!

Coming Home

We have been on the road many weeks of the summer, visiting friends and family in North Carolina, Connecticut and on the west coast from California to Oregon. Of course you can't know how folks are unless you spend time with them.

Sitting on the porch in North Carolina in the mountains with old friends is the best. We watch the mountains collecting bowls of clouds in the evening and at our feet, the new kittens - Willie and Johnny, who are always up to new tricks. We love reconnecting with old friends on "the mountain" and I have been there so often I know where the wild flowers bloom and the trail up to the Meadow on top of the world.

Next visit was "to the twins", our newest grandchildren in Connecticut. They are perfectly great and full of words and opinions at two and a half. The boy, Emilio, took  great liking to a necklace I wore so I let him wear it for the weekend, and finally he could not resist biting through it. No problem. I am getting it restrung, worth it! I loved seeing those five siblings, the four boys and their little sister and we had so many tumble down wonderful times with them and I feel so happy with how things seem now.

The trip to California and Oregon was one I anticipated with some trepidation. I had engaged a VRBO home on the Rogue River in southern Oregon for ten of us to gather. We slowly drove up the coast from San Francisco - probably my favorite route of all time. We stopped to look at the huge grapes ripening in Sonoma County, fruit trees, and the sere golden fields of summer.

We spent a night in an over the top b and b in Arcata and later we picked up my brother who lives there. We always love those northern California towns with the incredible gardens and the overpowering scent of eucalyptus. My brother is a talented gardener and his backyard garden is on a par with any I have ever seen!

When we arrived at our rental, it was fine. Great views across the river and a hub of bird viewing and the deer visited us often.

The family together after some years was actually just great. It was perfect to be on no one's territory, no sweat. This was the first time in many years that four siblings were together - and we were o.k.
It might have been hard to have my youngest brother (who is disabled physically and mentally), but he came and we all had a sense of humor and a feeling of caring. I know it was a highlight of life for him.

My daughter-in-law brought her two beautiful young children and I loved having even this brief sighting of them and even some good conversations with them.

Sometimes we all sat on the deck looking out over the river and talked our heads off about the books we had read or were reading. We traded them. Sometimes we split off to take hikes or investigate the nearest town. We played scrabble and did jigsaw puzzles. We cooked the excellent fish that was available on the dock.

When we all peeled out that last day we were happy to have spent the time with each other.

Arriving back at our airport, we picked up our nine year old grandson (and the dog) and proceeded home.

And, central Florida home these days is so hot and humid it numbs your brain- and we natives never apologize for whining from late August to when the weather changes! But we love it!

We got up today and were working in the gardens before eight. Andy startled a very new fawn sleeping under the front porch. Great to be home.

Big Brood

At this moment in time I am as perfectly satisfied as a grandma can be. My three children's kids- all eight of them, are just great!

Valentina and Emilio, our youngest, twins, are so amazing! They are precociously articulate (in both Spanish and English!). They are the youngest in a family of five siblings, and here you see Emilio with his biggest brother, Diego.

Caroline is eating ice cream and her cousin, Vale is regarding a flower.

I am awed by the expertise all our children have as as parents!

These modern parents seem to navigate among all the complexities of kids and stepchildren, several languages, and multiple layers of relations. They all pay real attention to their progeny in such thoughtful and loving ways it takes my breath away.  I see that my grandchildren are not all the regulation WASP blondes of my generation, though there are some of those.

Our parents, if they were still living, would be amazed , and maybe horrified, at the diversity of our extended family as it is now. But they would understand the underlying love and attention their great grandchildren have for all these kids.

These eight grandchildren are all being raised by the villages- Puerto Rican, Slavic, WASP, gay and straight, and who knows else? Our gatherings to celebrate everything are joyous occasions of different configurations and colors and ethnicities.

I salute these parents of kids who are our children. They are doing a wonderful job in uncertain times.

A Lot of Money Out There

I am so aware these days, after the Great Recession has receded, that there is a whole lot of money to be had for various projects large and small. Folks who were tight with their money are more expansive, big business is too. Philanthropy is expanding.

The destitute are still standing by the side of the road with their cardboard signs, asking for money. Some dysfunctional families in our communities still cannot manage to keep their lives on track and care for their kids and keep a car functional. Pay day lenders are still in business. Drugs make everything worse.

How do we address this disconnect? You cannot throw money towards some of this. People need to have decently paying work and have the means to buy into success.  Raising the minimum wage will go a long way and raise the economic floor.

Education is, of course, the key. So much of our philanthropy can and will go to making sure that the next generation will be able to go to college or get training for some useful work in our society.

I am always asking the question about every 'great' idea, "How does this work?" I want to know the pragmatic bottom line. If you get the grant, what will it lead to? If you have the funds, where and how will it be spent?

In our community/school garden, we seem to have plenty of dollars to do whatever we need (through grants and contributions), but what we really need is a time commitment from local folks who will show up on a regular basis.

The society of humans is so far behind the scrappy digital world!

Neighbors Up the Road

Tonight, after a drenching five inches of pure Florida summer rain, it is just beginning to clear though I still hear distant rolls of thunder.

I see distant lights up the hill in the little house and it makes me glad. I see the warm glow of the chili lights and I think that dinner may be happening up there.

At the beginning of June we decided to rent the guest house to our dear friends who have been using it for ages when there was an opening between other guests. It seemed that when our family comes to visit they always wanted to be in the main house and that is great for us.

We want to sell twenty acres of our land to our good friends who have used and loved the little house. But there are some legal issues, yet to be resolved, about making this happen. So, we came up with the idea of renting the little house to them until they can have their very own slice of this paradise. This is a good deal for everyone. They feel free to come and go as they please. They have use of everything here, and most of all, these folks truly love the place and know it almost as well as we do. They pitch in with mowing the pastures, weeding the vegetable garden, heaving mulch. We love to walk together in the woods and swamp. Their kids have grown up here and frequently come to visit. I was charmed when we went to one of their boys' graduations this spring, and we were introduced as his grandparents. We are that close.

Having neighbors, even sporadically, is the best! We live out here in such a vast space it makes the people who come to fix things gasp. (The drive way is a mile long!) But having such wonderful people as neighbors on the hill, not very near, is perfect, just perfect.

You never know how life will turn out; it always takes unexpected turns.  Many years ago, I thought that one of our sons would live in the vicinity and would be interested in making this ranch a part of his life. But that didn't happen and his career and family life soars elsewhere. If you give your kids wings to fly, they'll fly. And all of mine have flown and I am pleased with that.

But one of the very best and unexpected things has been having a close connection to one of my grandsons, who is now nine years old. He has spent a lot of time with us since infancy, has his own room here, his own toys and books and he folds seamlessly and joyfully

into our lives. I know that soon he will be a teenager and be more distant. But for now, I enjoy every moment.

The neighbors up the road will bring ribs to barbecue for the 4th of July, everyone will make food and our daughter and her wife will be here, my sister and brother in law, and we'll set off firecrackers and smoke bombs. The nine year old is still in camp in North Carolina, our neighbors' boys are not in the vicinity, so it will be just adults. (Unless the Mexican neighbors from Lacoochee come to swim).

I am pretty wildly happy to be here in this swampy and forested place in Florida and it is all the better to have neighbors up the hill who love frogs and birds and plants. Who knew?

These Beautiful Days

Once in a blue moon I have an entire day just for me, something I so craved in the time before I retired. I have just finished two quilts and readied them for the 'long-armed quilting lady'. She and I will decide about what quilting design, what thread colors, and I will leave these off at her house, confident that they will be perfect and ready for binding in a few weeks. It was like a bolt of magic when I discovered that I did not have to quilt everything on my sewing machine- an arduous and not very creative endeavor. Nor, did I have to quilt everything by hand. So, these two are off to be quilted with the top and the insides of the batting and the bottom layer. So cool!

I love the process of garnering the fabrics, adjusting the overall idea, and putting it all together - and then changing it! Because I always make quilts for specific people, I love thinking hard about them all the while I work.

So, my day today was my own, in a clean studio, looking forward to my Tai Chi class in the evening.

I am still so in love with this beautiful place where I live.With every pivot you see a beautiful and lush view. I enjoy all the gardens we have planted and nurtured over the years. It takes an enormous amount of work but it is worth it. I find that I cannot be in the vegetable garden long before I am melting in the heat. But then I look out into the pasture and see four deer, and I am surrounded by butterflies and hummingbirds. Even the cows, who annoy me, have that sweet breath and their legs all together are wonderful art.

Here is a broadside I carved and printed many years ago, and I still like it. This is Walt Whitman, a magnificent American poet. Even more than it did then, so many years ago when I was making woodcuts, it seems relevant to my life now.

Our cows are still out there in front of the studio trying to eat the zinnias and generally being bad and leaving meadow muffins in the road. 

But they are part of the life force, along with the almost deafening frog calls, the raccoons we trap and release, the clever squirrels who always defeat us when we put up bird feeders, the dozens of hummingbirds who swoop and buzz around our six nectar feeders.

I love the black racer snakes who are so domestically inclined and lounge around the buildings here in their office hours between ten and four. I love the mud wasps who make such intricate dwellings everywhere on the sides of buildings and I admire the persistence of wrens who nest in such improbable places.

Most of all, I love the many wild flowers in my purview.

As Walt Whitman said, I am staggered. I am staggered by the sheer enormity and magnificence of it all here in our home in the Green Swamp.

The Sweetness of Life

We have been through a period of stressful times, so I was glad to have our nine year old grandson come for a visit. He hadn't been here for a month, and I was eager to see him.

Since the close of school he has been on a road trip with his parents to visit in-laws, friends and relatives. So, he was fresh with reports of his visits to Washington and New York and all the folks he had seen. He is really looking forward to going to camp for three weeks.

But he clearly loves his visits here with his own room and Legos and books. He is nine, and a tall sting bean of a kid. His face is round and dimpled with a thatch of red hair, the kind of face you'd love to look at forever.

This evening, after a pizza dinner he made with his grandfather, we went swimming in the night that was still dripping from the rainy season thunderstorms. "Oh, let's just skinny dip", he said. So we are swimming about under the moon, talking about this and that, just companions.

I wonder what memories this child will have about visits to his grandparents? I hope they will be as sweet as mine have been with my grandmother.

Later, after we had dried off, we ate peaches just picked from a neighbor's tree, and topped with vanilla ice cream. While we ate this ambrosia, he read me a Shel Silverstein poem he very much liked, and then I read him a story about my father that I had written just for him. This feeling between us was just so sweet.  He went up to brush his teeth and in a few minutes I followed to tuck him in and kiss him many times and tell him how much I love him. I turn off the lights and start down the stairs and he calls out, "I love you!"

Life is sweet, indeed. Tomorrow we have many plans! He has collected all the change that has accumulated here for several months, counted it, and is prepared to take it to put into his bank account at the local credit union. ( $29! At this rate he'll be able to buy a car when he's sixteen!) We'll go to the library and get tons of books. And we will look for some Star Wars videos.

There is so much to do! This boy is never at loose ends requiring a person to entertain him. But I always want to extend his inquiries, be inviting, and be the crazy creative grandma.

Other grandchildren have been just as sweet. I am thinking about the oldest who is about to have his 21st birthday, and is the first under my heart.

Will the Common Core Standards work, or is it just the Next Panacea?

At first, I was quite enthusiastic about this new deal in the education of American students. Yes, let's hold students to new high standards, no child left behind, every high school graduate able to read and calculate percentages! And so much more! All American students will be the same because they'll all know the same stuff! They'll be able to go to college and not have to take remedial writing and reading and math, or they will be employment ready with the nimbleness and flexibility and deep knowledge our global economy demands.

We are not French or German or Swedish, though a little bit of all of those and hundreds of others. This country is deeply different, I believe. There is no such thing in the United States as homogeneity. We came from everywhere and we are still coming. We come in all colors and we speak many languages and we have many treasured traditions from family roots. We want to be a country where we are all proud, all kids are above average, and we cling to the idea that our opportunities are endless (if we work hard). And we prize our individuality.

American public education has been key in the growth of this nation. Public schools, for all their warts, have through the generations, been the glue of an over arching American culture. So many Americans learned our common language, English, in our public schools.

Throughout all the many newest greatest attempts to make our education system better, what remains are the dailiness of a kid's school experiences. A child learns the structure of the school culture: get there on time, follow the rules, watch the clock, look forward to recess, worry about tests, and maybe there will be something truly interesting or fun happening.

With this Common Core initiative, I worry, again, that this is another way of demoting teachers to being slaves of a money driven system coming down from educational publishing giants, pushed by politicians and lobbyists.

I have studied the Common Core objectives. It's all about cogent reasoning, evidence collection, specificity, commutative properties and other edu-speak crap. All of it is good stuff, actually. But in a real situation, why not produce a Shakespearean play? Why not develop an orchestra? Why not have animals in the classroom? Why not run a school store? Why not read great books out loud to students so that they would come to love literature? Why not let kids write rap music? Why not have the kids do real banking? Why not have as many kids as possible learn coding? Why not have kids cooking?

Remember 'New Math'? Moms and Dads in kitchens across America struggled with this and tried hard. "Why can't junior just learn the multiplication tables?  And why is your math written horizontally?"  That panacea was scrapped.

We really are all different, and perhaps we should celebrate that. I envision schools that have unique footprints. A principal could gather his/her staff considering the talents and skills needed. Science? Imagine an inviting huge science room filled with interesting stuff, animals, computers for data collection. Imagine an art room filled with every imaginable material, beautiful paper, potters wheels, printmaking. Imagine a writing center where kids write their own magazines and newspapers, develop websites and apps.
Imagine literature that is not boring and 'rigorous', dance that is joyous, music that fills the rooms, math that is so fascinating a kid will voluntarily spend all night on a hard puzzle. I occasionally read about such programs.

I do believe that if we unfettered our teachers from these test driven curricula, they would fly!
Seems that we are glommed onto Common Core. I will be into "evidence collection". As a major school time volunteer I will keep watch.

Fashion Grandma- this may alarm you!

O.K. Folks,  I am going to give it to you straight about getting elderly/fashion.
To begin with, I always loved my work for many reasons, and one of them was that I never had to "dress for success". As a teacher in a funky and wonderful private school, our uniform was jeans and shorts, It was hot and we had to be on the floor with kids and be prepared at any moment to go out and watch birds or cast seine nets in the Gulf of Mexico. We needed to squat in the dust to observe ant lions.

On some occasions, of course, we teachers had to dust off the heels and find a dress, but that was rare.

So, now, retired grandma that I am, I look back with horror at the many ceremonial things I did with my spouse, sartorially speaking. We went to many countries and were required to dress for appointments and banquets with the powerful and rich.

This was ultimately very fascinating, but there was always the undercurrent of "what will I wear?"
Inevitably, there would always be some women on the trips who brought their own hairdressers! Yikes!  How to tame my curly hair?

Those day of fashion anxiety are over, thank god.

So, here I am, seventy-three years old, and still! I sometimes worry about the fashion issues. I am doing as a volunteer pretty much what I did before I retired. So, when I appear at my school I am wearing my regular uniform of shorts or jeans. (I need to be able to sweat in the school garden!)
I see some of the teachers there in high heels and tight skirts and wonder how they manage.
So, still, I am left in the dust!

The third toe on my right foot is bleeding because I cut the toenail too short. My fingernails are permanently embedded with garden grit. All my skin, wrinkled as it is, is too brown from the sun.
I read the New York Times Style section and find out about the latest things for beauty, and of course I want to be beautiful too. I am not sure I am up for spending $5000 on wrinkle removal or liposuction or whatever.

My major beauty routine is scrubbing my feet under the outdoor shower several times a day.
For the last several years I have thought that I would do better to wear elbow length tee shirts to cover as much of my wrinkly arms as possible and still be able to function.
No more! I am fit and trim, no baggy under arms, tight thighs. So I am wrinkled and it is my right at my age.

I stride forth to my Tai Chi class with bare toes and tank top and I am confident. It's not about pedicures and the perfect toned skin.

Still, I have such admiration for many women my age who seem so confident in their style.
It's the beginning of summer, so I went out and bought three new pairs of shorts that will last a couple of seasons.  Those, and the new plain black bamboo dress, will take me through just about anything.

Last Day of the Jr. Community Garden

School will be out next week, and so we had the end of the year celebration as a swimming and pizza party at my house.  All of us five women who steadily appeared two or three times a week for the entire year to make this Jr. Garden Club happen are breathing huge sighs of relief.

This was hard! In the first weeks we were exhausted by the kids' energy and disrespect. They screamed and leapt around and seemed unable to take any kind of direction. Yet, they kept on coming and gradually became good gardeners who knew the plants and how to grow them. They loved harvesting their crops and they loved cooking and eating the collards and carrots and beans and so much else!

As the year wore on, and we had a steady cohort of young gardeners, things got better. We grew to know these kids and we had amazing conversations with them as we weeded and cooked. We provided many wonderful activities planned - all with some connection to growing food. 

We wanted these kids to have a sleep-away camp experience, and our local garden club was eager to finance this at a lovely environmental education camp pretty nearby.  It was the hardest thing of all to sign these kids up to go to a great camp (for free!)

For helicopter parents this would have been easy. But for our parents here it was another world they could not understand. Of course, none of them had any camp experience and it would be a very big reach to send a kid off to someplace unknown for a week. And, then, they did not understand applying online, and many of them had no access to that anyway. The kids , of course, are wild to go on this adventure-camp! So, we held their hands, brought our laptops, made calls over and over, made the camp physicals available. And still, there were all those tag ends to complete. 

But! We have six kids signed up to go to Camp Wekiva this summer. Done deal. We know that we'll have to have some meetings about what to bring, where to go, how to get there etc. We'll have to provide some sleeping bags and swimsuits and whatever. Maybe we'll have to offer to drive some kids to camp. But, the end thing is that these kids will have such a wonderful experience and learn so much! (Of course, I fear that some of these parents will forget about camp.)

So, today, I knew that it would take some time to get the kids loaded up for the short drive to my house. It was herding cats. A few of them had forgotten their swim suits or their permission forms and had to call parents. One child was clearly disappointed because his mother was in the hospital and so nothing was working for him that day.

When, finally, we got all the kids unloaded for their afternoon of swimming and making/eating pizza, it was pretty much mayhem. They loved the swimming and they loved all the bathrooms with lockable doors and they loved running around inside the house. Some kids helped on the pizzas and salad and everyone loved eating all that stuff and the melons. They always checked to see if they could have more if they wanted.

After they ate (in five minutes) they went outside to play volleyball. Some of the kids kept peeling off and we had to make sure they were not by the pool or some other dangerous place. They had no idea of keeping track of their belongings, so there were many damp piles of swimming gear here and there. They had no idea about helping clean up anything.

And yet, I believe we have made a lot of progress with these kids! 

Some of the kids went upstairs and discovered the room where our grandson stays when he is often here. It is filled with intricate Lego buildings and models he has made, and there is a large collection of Lego bricks and pieces, books and toys. I just glimpsed that raw envy and it saddened me.

These kids have taught me so much.

It Takes a Village

Carlos, skinny, small for his age, like a little professor, strides purposefully to the front of the classroom. He is about to give his speech to his class.

All the kids in this fourth grade room are preparing for the speech contest next week in front of the whole school. I have listened to speeches about baseball, hunting, cheer leading, pets, and the predictable topics that interest nine year olds. I have volunteered to help the kids who need a little extra.

Carlos' speech is about Gandhi and peace. Obviously, he has carefully researched the life of this world leader and cares a lot about his topic. I wonder how it could be that this child in this poor hispanic community came up with this? I was blown away!

Through Carlos and his family, whom I have come to know in the ensuing five years, I have learned so much. This child, like so many others across America, is undocumented, and knows how hard it will be to make it step by step to where he wants to be. He knows that his supportive family are always there for him. He knows the fears of trying to be an undocumented family in this country. He appreciates the fact of being bilingual.

Carlos, and so many others like him, are our treasure in America (the home of the free and the brave).
Now, Carlos is about to graduate from eighth grade. He's replete with honors all the way through school. He's on the way to being an Eagle Scout. He'll begin high school in a brand new program for the academically gifted.

And now, I try to think of a good graduation gift for this lovely gifted boy. His mom and I believe he needs a good laptop. How can we make this happen?  This needs to come from the community with no one's pride damaged. So, I have put out the word to the 'village', and so many folks here who know Carlos as "one of ours" have contributed.

I think that all of us here believe in the potential of kids, all kids. We believe that families want the best for their children.

On that graduation day coming up Carlos will have his laptop. Little by little our mean spirited legislature will begin to know that our undocumented Floridians are worthy of going to college and having the same shot to success as anyone. It is starting!

Kids, One By One

Every day in the newspaper we read about another kid or two or three who has been lost to society. Sometimes the stories are horrific. The children were smothered by a parent who grew tired of the crying that interrupted video games, or just threw the baby out of the car, or starved and hurt their child. Or other things too sad to think about. These are the worst cases.

I wonder if the hospitals where kids are born could make a quick assessment of the families where kids go home to. Doesn't seem difficult to see some red flags, and make follow up on these. It would take a bunch of social workers, maybe expanded with volunteer home visit people. The home visitors could offer help, make some suggestions about child care, and if they saw dire difficulties, get immediate help. Yes, there is always the mind set of "we can't do this because.." But the lives of kids are at stake.

As a society, the politicians are always looking to the next election. Seems that in Florida we care very little about kids. The legislature makes sure that kids' welfare is always at the bottom of the list - they don't vote. It is a political must that politicians here vote to protect the fetus. But beyond that, they see no need to protect the kids that are already here and needing so much. Don't expand Medicare etc.

What I see in my volunteer work in an impoverished elementary school is a kind of subtle neglect a lot of parents have for their kids. I know these parents work hard and long hours to keep food on the table (or for fast food). I know these parents have few resources of energy or aspirations. And I know these parents love their kids.

But it makes me crazy that a parent cannot do the minimum to help their kid go to a free week of a wonderful camp next summer. We want that gifted and interested child to go to camp that she desperately wants to attend, but, so far, no one in her family will help on this. Hard to know what to do?

I will go to my grave knowing that I could have done better if I knew what to do. Perhaps I should be content that I have done my best child by child.

Telling People What you Really Think

You cannot do this! Certainly, you cannot do this on line.

I am known for being really blunt at times. My kids call me on this, and in a few instances I have been pilloried for what I have written in this blog. And, of course, I am deservedly contrite because I never want to knowingly wound even one person. The closest thing to a religious creed for me is the framed stitch work on the bathroom wall: "I want to live by the side of the road and be a friend to man"

Can anyone ever be totally honest? I don't think so. We are always adjusting and rearranging our thoughts so that we can be understood and paid attention to and not tearing it with the folks we love.

Right now, we are having some hard thoughts about our upcoming move from our apartment in St. Pete. My husband and I sometimes vent to each other about the difficulties of doing this. I thought it would be easy.  After all, I am always happy to be living here in this paradise north of Dade City.  But I always wanted that place in St. Pete - even if we were hardly ever there!

Suddenly, we'll have no place there where we can light if we want to. And there are all the issues about getting rid of a whole house full of furniture and memories.

Being honest, sort of, I know that we'll make a plan and do the horsing around of furniture no one wants, get movers, and move on, figure out where we can be in St. Pete.

I do not think that even the most loving families can sit down together and really talk about what bothers them, what feelings have been hurt, what delights them, and what needs to be done.

In my privileged life, my family and friends are not very dysfunctional, and piece by piece, we can talk in honest bits. It is worth trying.

Bottom line is that you actually cannot tell people what you really think. It is a process, takes time and attention and listening and mindfulness. And maybe you'll learn something too.

The Terrible Thing I Did that Still Haunts Me

As we approach the fiftieth anniversary of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, I think that all of us need to think about our past- how we have changed our thinking and behavior or maybe even how we have become aware when before we were so oblivious. This "we" is not just the "we" of the privileged white people.  Now this "we" is all of us.

In 1961 I was a full scholarship student at an Ivy League university. I scrabbled for everything- grades, money for living.

 I remember the day very well. It is seared on my memory fifty years later. An African American friend and I were walking towards my off campus apartment for lunch. We were in the same class and at that time there were not many black students in this university. We had been together in a political science class and we were talking a mile a minute about the ideas. There was that left over snow on the ground that in New England takes a long time to melt.

She said, "I think that..." and I said, "But Americans think that.."  At that moment I realized that I was not thinking that this person, my friend, was really an American! Oh, how I wanted to just dive under one of those left over snowdrifts! I will never forget the shame of it.

She did not miss a beat, maybe it was just life as was usual. I have so regretted this obliviousness of mine. It seemed terrible to have to confront the reality of two races intersecting with ideas, friendship, and old baggage. We never mentioned it again.

Fifty years later, I can say I have struggled with these issues. We celebrate our family that is now colorful and multi-ethnic. As a school director I worked hard to have a diverse student body. As a community volunteer I am only thinking about what people can do and what their back stories are.

But fifty years into the Civil Rights Act of 1964, we must still be vigilant with ourselves. We have come a long way since then. Multiracial is pretty much the norm, but there is still noise out there, discomfort maybe, that our President is a black man.

Hoping that in the next fifty years we'll all be brown and peaceful!

Life on the Ranch, Still Amazing

The monarch butterflies are tending to business and the passion flowers are in bud as I see them on my way in the mornings through the swamp to pick up the newspaper.

Late spring here in Central Florida, most of the trees except for the hickories are in leaf, and the woods are now a delicate and delicious light and lacy green. The big cypress trees are in leaf and I can even forgive the oak trees for spitting out so much pollen.  With all the unexpected rain for this time of year, and with no freezes during the winter, nature is in full blast.

With every year I live here, I notice hundreds more wildflowers and, on my morning inspection I see the tracks and scat of the animals who share this place with us.

I am beginning to be able to name so many of these creatures and plants whose ecosystem I share. I never want to see another zoo. Far better to get sightings of a bobcat, a fox, a fox squirrel, two snakes, too many deer to count, the alligator in the pond, the cranes and their two chicks, so many birds! All this in one day.

Sleeping with the windows and door open, I often hear the barred owls chuckling and hooting(now in mating season), and I hope to hear the whippoorwills that I used to hear a few years back. After the last cold snap we cleaned out the fireplace and closed the damper because it's time for the chimney swifts to return. They have always come just a month later than the hummingbirds, and now it's time.

I notice some subtle changes, even in the seven years we have lived here full time. Not so many birds in the night jar family, no wood storks for several years,  fewer ducks on the pond, not so many goldfinches, more hummingbirds who demand service. Fill those feeders, now!

It used to be that the only sounds of modern life we heard here were the train horns and some airplanes. Now, more often, we hear helicopters, and from the next door ranch, the noise of sports events. Google Earth has its eye on us. More of our neighbors seem to be shooting guns, and we hear that. The sky is increasingly more polluted with lights from distant football games, encroaching development, and neighbors' giant security lights.

Wrens have nested in the barn and in the glove box of the golf cart and in the tractor, and who knows where else? They are constant.

 But still, I can go outside right this minute and see clouds racing across a half moon and Orion trying to be seen in the wake of a weather front, and fireflies low in the palmettos. In the words of Walt Whitman, these things adorn the parlor of heaven.

ROGER

My friend, Roger Kaminsky died today.

He was the first vivid person I got to know in my activities as a volunteer in the Lacoochee community. More than seven years ago, a bunch of us got together on a regular basis at the school to think about community/school, and what we could do to resurrect this impoverished community. Roger was always there, always helpful and insightful. Over time, we forged a plan of action, and Roger was instrumental in leading the community through many difficult twists and turns. Now we have a magnificent community center.

Roger was always strong, always efficient. He took his turn at being the chairman when the group became the official Lacoochee- Trilby-Trilacoochee steering committee. His strong start made everything after happen. When the chairmanship passed to the next person, Roger quietly became the secretary and never missed a meeting of taking the minutes on his computer.

Despite the wild hair and worn face, Roger seemed young and fit. He and his wife, Marion ran the Christian Edge center, a coffee house and hub for after school activities. Roger taught many young folks the guitar. There was lots of music there in this place the Kaminskys created. There was art and dance and love and fellowship. He lived his beliefs.

I don't know that Roger was a pastor; occasionally he would offer a brief prayer at meetings. It was clear, though, that his Christian faith was strong. What he did was live the Christian ethic of service and inclusivity.

This was a gentle man who cared deeply about our community. His life has made a tremendous difference for the better. All of us- Dave, our officer Friendly, Tammy, Shara, Jack Futch, Karen, Richard and Kathy, Cassie, David Lambert, Michelles, and so many others have heavy hearts tonight. Our thoughts and prayers go out to Marion.

I am imagining a tribute to Roger that would be a grove of trees and a concrete bench on the grounds of the new community center.

Counting Kids

One of the truly most delicious things about parenthood, grandparenthood, and having so many kids in our lives is that moment each night just before I go to bed when I make the rounds of the bedrooms where they sleep. I navigate the floor legos and the blocks and the clothes and damp towels, the digital devices and the stuffed animals, and sometimes real ones. I approach their beds and tuck in their covers over their feet large and small that spill out. I kiss their heads, what I can see of them, and I feel so blessed to have these children in my life.

Earlier, depending on their ages, I have read them a story, and we have discussed the breakfast menu for tomorrow. The night lights are adjusted to their liking. Older kids stay up long past my bedtime, but even so, they do not know it but I still go up and tuck in covers and kiss their heads. Comes with the territory.

When we just had our own three kids in the house, after my nightly checking and tucking and kissing, I would sigh a contented sigh.. all three are there! Our family is complete!

When guest kids come to visit, it is just the same. I feel peaceful when I have counted the kids and made sure they are comfortable in their beds.

Grandchildren are special. Tonight, our nine year old red headed grandson is here for his spring break. We are all happy to be together and have great plans for the next few days. Without an ongoing read-aloud book, we read Shel Silverstein's poems and had a laugh over them. This boy, of course, can read this himself, but what fun it is to share!  Tomorrow we'll go to the library and select something juicy (and just beyond his level) to read out loud.

Over the weekend we went up north where it is still below freezing and everything is sere and dead and the natives are feeling sorry for themselves. It was the second birthday of our youngest grandchildren, the twins. Who could have believed that these kids, so tiny at birth, would now be chattering away in full sentences in two languages? Also they are very funny kids, not to mention beautiful. Of course, I crept upstairs to see them sleeping to kiss their heads and tuck in a stray foot.

This house is full of kids; the twins have three much older brothers who love and care.  This is a blended family.

All of us, all of us, are the community it takes to raise our children. We are colorful and loving and caring. In the middle of the night we count the kids.

Hijacked!

It saddened me that Alex Sink was defeated today. She was clearly the most intelligent and ethical candidate for the job. No one actually asked for or would pay attention to an intelligent conversation about the Affordable Care Act or the candidates' take on climate change, or the environment here in Florida or same sex marriage, or abortion rights, or our incredibly important issue of immigration. When Sink made a few (true) comments about immigrants in Florida, she was pilloried, and what she said was made into sound bites for the mindless. It's all about money. I have no idea about what Jolly was thinking.

We are in a new climate these days, and you'd better gird your loins for more to come. Let's be honest. Public office can be bought from the next presidency on down. Our own governorship was bought! Big money from the various billionaire individuals (the Koch brothers for one) can very definitely ensure outcomes. It boils down to who has the most money to put up t.v. ads geared for the stupid masses who cannot think of anything past the latest sound bite or tweet. Big money has got us!

I would love to see Paul Sauros or Bill Gates or Warren Buffet put up non partisan ads about telling the truth. We need folks to cry out that the emperor, indeed, has no clothes on!
Alas, the Supreme Court did this nation a HUGE disservice in the Citizens United decision. I hope all nine of them do not sleep well. This was a disaster for our country.

As a resident of Florida, I am aware that the travesty of a governor we now have was elected because of all the money he has (ill gotten gains from an empire of hospitals). I believe that this governor is one of the worst  and most mean-spirited leaders we have had. You will not hear about this.

But you have seen nothing yet! In the next campaign he will use his own money and other money will flow in. It's all about influence. Do not doubt that there will be a zillion t.v. ads extolling his business expertise. You will not hear about the endangered Florida environment, you will not hear about the plight of undocumented Mexicans, you will not hear about climate change as it affects our state, you will not hear about preschool education, and all you'll hear about in education there is a fudging of finance. (Just talk to some teachers!) And you will not hear anything believably heartfelt.

But, I am saddened that so many of you, mostly the youth, don't care! Some of you don't vote! You should care to examine the issues and be picky. If you deeply care about something that is happening in our state. go to Tallahassee and tell them. You roll your eyes knowing that these politicians lie. You are right. You have no trust in public institutions or health care or much of anything else. You are right not to trust - but you have the obligation to examine the truth and then stand up for what you believe is the truth.

If you don't, you'll quickly find yourselves as mere cogs in the wheels of potato chips. You'll be a mere tweet.

So discouraging! What is this world going to be for my grandchildren?? Certainly, it will be useless to vote. Just lie back an let the digital world and let big money dictate your lives. Unless..

I love my brain (mostly)

When I am trying how to think about a problem - what will be effective for the classes I teach or what I can do for this or that student, or all the things I want to do, or how to construct the latest quilt or painting- I walk the trails in our property, and it always happens. I begin to get it and come back full of ideas. I rejoice in having this brain of mine that is always reliable.

Of course, at my age, I often cannot remember names and have to go through the alphabet or just tuck the question away hoping it will come to me. Usually it does.

I have this construct of my brain that has had so many experiences and so many people in it, that at some point it has to divest itself of extraneous stuff. So, this leaves me dumb sometimes at a banquet where I mix with hundreds of folks I should know. "By the way, do you happen to remember your name?" is not something I can ask.  Usually, in a few seconds I do remember someone I have not seen in years. But sometimes, not. I smile a lot, hoping the name will come.

I can easily remember the botanical names of plants, and I can easily remember the names of long ago student's pets! Yikes!

And my brain is still going full tilt with ideas for everything. Mostly, I think about kids and young people.

Today we had some young teachers come for lunch. They brought their four month old baby, such a darling full cheeked girl. These folks are in love with everything about family and they have such concerns about the future. They are right on the edge of maybe striking out to follow their dreams. It's scary and I hope that we old folks can encourage them to go forth.

Yesterday I went to collect Giccella, a ten year old, who had promised to write a one page essay to be included in a grant application for our school/community garden. Getting her here was fraught because I could barely connect with her mom. But, finally, it was to happen and I cut through the practicalities by stating I would pick Giccella up and return her. As with all the kids I know here, she lives in a trailer park that is littered with the detritus of life. But Giccella was there and ready on time.

She was very curious and observant of our place here in the Green Swamp. We briefly took a tour of the yard and house (two storeys!) and the vegetable garden and then she focused on writing her essay. She competently sat down at the computer after we had made a list of the things she wanted to say. In an hour we we were done, and all I had to do was make a few small corrections in matters of tense and grammatical agreement.

After that we went out in the golf cart to look at the property. What a hoot! I love seeing this place in a novice's eyes. She was interested in the cows and the young piney woods. She loved driving the golf cart and she was intrigued but wary of the lunch I served. (She had never seen the kind of bread we had or anything but velvet cheese slices.) But she was always polite and friendly.

I am so interested in how and why some kids thrive. This girl will be in my life for a long time. Already, I am thinking that I will invite her and another kid I know in the community to join us and our grandson or a trip to MOSI during the spring break.

Lots of my brain is always engaged in arranging social happenings. If only I could remember the names!

No Helicopter Parents Here

On Wednesdays, my big day at the local elementary school, I start out with the preschoolers. Today, as usual, their noses are pressed to the window on the school door. They know Ms Molly will be there. I always start out by reading a book to them. They are sitting on a cosy rug and most of them are still sleepy from their naps. "What's in Ms. Molly's bag?" they are thinking. I have a book to begin with, and then always something wonderful and delicious. Sometimes it is a food-watermelon when we read a book about watermelon seeds. Sometimes it is a special toy. Today, I brought a ten count Russian babushka doll. I spoke of grandmas, I am one, and they have their abuelas. What a hit! The kids handled the dolls and extricated them, counted them, and put them together again.

In visiting these kids in the preschool I see a sort (those parents who have signed up their kids for preschool), but there is still another sort.

At the top of the heap there are those parents that we dub "helicopter parents". These parents care so enormously about their kids, and have some confidence that they can make a difference and so they step up to be in the PTA, chaperone on field trips and volunteer in their kids' schools. And, usually, their kids succeed.

At our local elementary school we have a junior garden club that meets every Wednesday for a couple of hours after school. The school garden is fantastic, burgeoning with every kind of vegetable. Some of the kids who are a part of this go to visit the garden on a daily basis and they know every broccoli and sunflower and tomato. They feel comfortable weeding and keeping the caterpillars at bay with the BT. They keep an eye on the irrigation system and they go home with bags of collards and carrots and broccoli and whatever is producing at the moment. They are learning to cook the harvest and they are now comfortable with basic cooking skills.

The Dade City Garden Club has generously donated the funds for a number of these kids to go to camp for a week this upcoming summer.  But what uphill work this is!

The parents of these wonderful kids are not the helicopter parents I once was used to. They never see or respond to letters home. They never express thanks or interest. They seem to be unreachable by phone or email. Their kids would LOVE to attend this fantastic camp, but their parents are so unresponsive. So we strive to have these parents come in to sign their kids up for a camp session. We call endlessly and sometimes when we can get through, the parents promise to be there when we can help them with the online registration. But they rarely show up when promised. (For heavens sake we are extending  a free camping experience for their kids!)

I have learned a lot through this experience of running a school/community garden! These kids lag far behind what I would expect. Their math skills are abysmal and their general knowledge is skimpy. I am trying to figure this out. I know that these parents are hardworking folks. But I think that they were somehow shortchanged in their education and their expectations for themselves and their kids.

Almost the entire school population is on free lunch. The Mexican parents, mostly undocumented, would probably be helicopter parents if they didn't live in the shadow of fear. Of course their kids could not attend even a free camp because certain documents are required.

I wish that this small and wonderful elementary school could break through the fears of the undocumented and the unresponsiveness of the others so that these amazing kids could be thinking that their future might be more than being servers in a fast food place. I wish that this school could have some inspirational people talking to parents and teachers about how to be good parents.

Self Improvement

It was a New Year's resolution that I would sign up for a Tai Chi class. It took a couple of months to actually do this, but this afternoon there I was in my loose black pants and official Tai Chi shirt, ready to go with Ms. Linda. Before the class began with all the others she gave me a personal tutorial. So there I was in the large room desperately trying to follow the moves which seemed to be about rescuing tigers and helping birds to fly. I am o.k. with squats and kicks but all the hand movements were difficult even with intense focus. Mostly I think I looked like I was fending off flies.

After my personal class the others came in - six men and women of different ages and sizes. I was the only newby but I was welcomed. I was trying so hard and focusing so hard I did not have anything left over to observe the others. It was lovely! And then the more advanced students did some great clacking things with fans and wooden machetes. "I want to do that!" I thought. I am eying the various sashes one can get with certain expertise. GRANDMA MOLLY- PURPLE BELT IN TAI CHI! After that we did some more Tai Chi stuff along with Asian music. I really got into it. I have put down my money for three months worth of classes. I think I'll definitely do it.

Mornings, I get up with the sun, let the dog out, grab a shower and drive up the road a mile or so to pick up the newspapers. Along the way I generally stop to look at birds and the condition of the swamp. Sometimes I take photos of anything interesting I see. When I get back I feed the dog and do my daily chores of emptying the compost and trash and kitchen cleanup. I give the newspaper some time and then I am off for the morning self improvement.

First off is Lumosity, a mere fifteen minutes. Can I beat yesterday's score? These games are such fun, though I do not know if they are actually training my brain and staving off dementia.

Next up is my study of Spanish. I am now almost at the end of Pimsleur Spanish 4. In addition I am dong an online written Spanish program. I look forward to doing this and I love this challenge. I wish I had more opportunities to speak more than the rudimentary Spanish with parents I know.

Next up on the self-improvement docket is making my ten thousand steps around the property and doing strength training helped by a video.

But best of all, not self improvement, are the hours I spend creating quilts or paintings. Sometimes I work well into the night. To rest my eyes I go out and look at the stars, so bright here without any light pollution.

And most important for self-improvement, and maybe the hardest, are the hours and hours and energy I spend doing volunteer work in this community. Sometimes, on a day when I know I must go to the school and have something fascinating to read and do with those four year olds, and then do the community garden with the oldest kids  I think I would rather be playing golf (if I played it).  I must shepherd kids and their families through the network of getting them into summer camp. This is such uphill work! Getting health checks, getting them to go online to register, just getting to them by phone is never easy. I must visit the library to get books to read to the preschoolers and plan the various activities for both groups, schlep all the things  needed for the various projects into a school that is pretty much high security so I have to make multiple trips...

I hope I never quit on this !

I guess it is all in the continuum of the self-improvement.