Whatever happened to facts?

It alarms me that people pay no attention to facts right now. Politically, people have made up their minds with no regard to facts! Is this because that they think that facts are fluid and schmoozy, no need to pay attention to them? Just, whatever..
Maybe it is because facts are second to the feelings about life as it is lived right now. Lots of folks can't stand people of another color or ethnicity or religion because in these times they are scared. They want to have theirs. To me this seems mean spirited.
I am trying to understand. I know that Glen Beck and his ilk are saying that we need to renew our values as Americans. I would certainly agree with that, but I cannot help knowing that what he is really thinking and promoting is the message of fear and racism. And this always resonates with the disaffected. Bowing to the crazy bloggers who keep saying that Obama is a Muslim, not an American Citizen is just nuts!

These events are always couched in piety (god), but I wonder how many of the folks there at the Beck event, are truly invested in the message that all religions promote-that the almighty cares for all humans and wants good will for al
Sorry, but I continue to think that organized religion is detrimental to the good will that can happen with us humans. I believe in the soaring spirit of Americans and I devoutly hope we really can get back on track as the inclusive

Anniversary

This week we celebrated our fiftieth wedding anniversary, and also the birthday of our eldest child, born exactly five years later. We are looking forward to having a huge bash of a party, what our frugal wedding wasn't, and we wanted to wait until the weather was cooler than this mid August soup that passes for summer here.

We shall have good food, dancing and music and other fun stuff. No one will have to obsess about what to wear and they will bring nothing but themselves. Guests will not have to look up a special website with directives about what to order for gifts. There will be no expensive flowers, just what the meadows have on tap. And there will be no ceremony, just good fellowship among the folks who have supported us over the years. I will NOT be wearing my old wedding dress (that, in fact, was long lost to a dramatic performance of ten year olds.)

Our three children have sparked this event. At first when it was presented as an idea, we recoiled in horror. (Oh, pshaw, all we're going to do is give each other new gardening tools. Not a big deal.)

So now I am definitely up for this celebratory event. Much less expensive than a wedding and a lot more than a sure thing. Much less stress for all..

I have loved this husband of mine for fifty years, in sickness and health, for better or for worse, we are in it for the long haul, so why not celebrate?

Life in the Slow Lane

Many times a day I am frustrated by the internet access we have here in the boondocks. We have satellite, our only option, and daily the bandwidth slims down. So we can do business in the mid morning, and then it is iffy the rest of the day into the evening. If I wait to download a photo, mostly everything goes up to god or wherever and never returns.

A couple of evenings ago when I really wanted to connect on my blog, and the internet was down, I wrote to our president, basically asking if we rural folks were chopped liver and did not deserve to have access to the world out there. We are too far from a cell phone tower to connect on any reliable basis.

Anyway, this is the flip side of paradise, and I am trying to be more tolerant. The vegetable garden is being prepared for the fall planting. It is so hot I can only work for a couple of hours between seven and nine a.m. We have removed the weeds of summer and put down the old funky jute mats no longer presentable on our porches. These are great mulch and weed suppressors and we just cover them with mulch. Then when it is time to plant, we cut holes and apply some of the wonderful compost that has been percolating all summer, and stick in the seeds or seedlings I have been cultivating in coir containers. It is all potential!

Speaking of potential, our garage apartment in St. Pete is progressing. The demolition is awesome! Now I can get a faint glimmer of what this small place (not quite 1100 sq. ft.) will be. I rescued an old claw foot bathtub from the previous apartment and as it sat by the dumpster, lots of people came by wanting it. No way! This is going to be a planter for salad greens.

It's a wonderful life here. So much to share.

Being Connected

Another fraud?

Today I volunteered at my local public school, helping a young teacher set up her second grade classroom. Basically, she had everything in mind and just needed a pair of hands to move shelves and cabinets where she wanted.

But there were enormous amounts of slick thin books, many FCAT materials, empty binders, and kits from various text book publishers, and she had no interest in them, though she told me that they might be full of interesting little things. She has reams of the same kind of stuff, now updated and fine in new plastic.

All this STUFF is overwhelming! Most of it is from the text book publishers, and now out of date. There is little in the way of inviting art materials, no aquarium waiting for a gerbil or some fish, no blocks or Legos.

We placed the current reading materials in the teacher shelf and sorted through the books, filling three boxes with books she didn't want and will give away to the kids (which is probably the best pedagogical thing she can do this year!) The rest of the books we placed in attractive bins for the kids to grab and read. She has a vision of a reading corner here with pillows and an area rug. I have promised some brightly covered pillows.

We are in most states so strapped for money we are laying off teachers and hunkering down THEY SAY. But I cannot help thinking that there is some kind of fraud going on here, not unlike in the medical world, not unlike in the insurance world. Someone is selling all that excess educational stuff: Houghton Mifflen, Harcourt Brace, etc. I think that the textbook companies are feathering their nests, people are being paid off to unload all this unnecessary stuff to school systems that don't need it! And, basically. they can't afford it.

Why in the world, for example, would a school system pay $50 for a classroom 'calendar kit' when a teacher could easily make a classroom calendar on his own? Why would a very poor school have an entire store room filled with math gadgets that few teachers need or know the purpose of?

I think that we could save millions of dollars by looking into the amazing largess of the suppliers of school supplies. Someone is being paid off to provide this stuff! Just look at how the purveyors of the FCAT test results fell short! The actual teachers and principals have little or no say in what they get in the way of supplies and textbooks.

School supplies and books need to be lean. Kids love to go the library and select books and they treasure that special 'one' book they can take home at night. Teachers and kids can make almost everything they need in the classroom. Anything is more important and treasured if you make it yourself!

I imagine the time when our wonderful public school teachers and principals can be more autonomous and call the shots, unfettered by the greedy textbook companies that now dictate even when they can take a breath.

Wouldn't it be great if every school was just issued the funds from the state and could do with it what they wanted? I guarantee that we'd see a lot of creative uses of the money, and there wouldn't be the vast excess that no one wants or needs. (And maybe the powers that be at the textbook companies would not be flying around on corporate jets.)

In the words of our man, Hooper, that's all I'm saying.

Sex and War

Dog days of Summer

We took a few days off of all electronics to make a fleeting visit to the mountains of North Carolina where we very much appreciated the cool weather and the company of old friends and the joy of being with our daughter and grandson.

The moment we returned our niece and her partner and baby arrived from Australia to stay for a week. We had been awaiting this visit since we do not see them very often, and we were so eager to hear about her life now that she has a child. In Australia, way more child friendly than the U.S., the mom takes an entire year off with full pay, and the dad takes three months off with pay. No charge for delivering the baby, and no charge for all medical things. When my niece left the hospital, she received $5000 for the child! This is "socialized" medicine! So, they pay more taxes than we do in the U.S., but not a lot more. (WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH US?) No wonder that this baby, little Seattle, is so secure and loving with his family.

But, with us, the beat goes on. Little by little, small things happen, and they pile up. My community, Dade City merging into Lacoochee and Trilby had a Day To Remember today. It was the day of Visioning when three bus loads of federal, state and local folks took a tour of the Lacoochee area and saw the needs. We had put together a proposal for the redevelopment of this area that may rival Haiti in human needs. These folks looked and took notes and then they came back to the conference room at the local power company that has been so instrumental in making this happen. They looked at a full room of hundreds, many locals (identifying themselves with their green shirts) and told us of all the money that could be ours if we could identify the needs and apply for the money that is there.

I think that eventually this could all work. An amazing photographer and gadfly, Richard Riley, has documented the landscape of Lacoochee in all its grittiness and beauty, and this has been a key factor; his photographs lined the conference room, reminding everyone of the importance of this convocation.There are so many other locals who relentlessly volunteer and make their stands.

It is really hard to think about what may work in getting the funding for this major project. We heard today that the money is there but we must identify the individual projects and make application for the grants and loans. Some of the speakers seemed to drone on to put everyone to sleep as they explained every program that could be funded. I think, who can do this?

All will be revealed! The day was an incredible affirmation of what a small segment of America can do! I imagine the day when this small town will have work for the adults, good places to live, and a healthy life for kids and everyone.

I felt so connected to mankind as I sat in the 'green shirt' section of the convocation. There was the great grandma next to me and the dad who came back for this occasion because he was born in Lacoochee and his folks still lived here. There were teachers there and retirees and parents, and just good folks of all ages and colors.

And now we have to get down to the hard work of making all these dreams happen.

Getting Ready for the Big Seven O

Next week will be my seventieth birthday, but I am still really at heart and soul a ten year old kid, but with a lot of baggage dragged along through an amazing life.

When my husband asked me what I wanted as a birthday gift I could not think of anything I do not already have that I want, so I muttered into my hand, not even thinking, "If you love me you would know." But several days later as I was on line, I heard about an amazing trip to Ruanda. I said to him, "What I would really love would be a trip to Ruanda. I could visit Paul Farmer". Deafening silence.

Of course, this is not a good idea in any way, so by the next day I had put the idea aside. I have made many outrageous and dangerous and fascinating trips to South America and the memory of them is such furniture for my mind. The idea of setting out by myself to see stuff I have only read about, maybe doing some good, is powerful to me.

On this birthday, though the years say 'OLD!', I am still vital and energetic and healthy but I don't know how much longer this will hold. I am not tethered to "meds" and I have all my parts (so far!). I am not scooting around Walmart in a wheelchair with my fat hanging down.

My youngest sister, divorced, well into her sixties, is making a two month hiking trek through Spain this summer. She's doing a trail for a saint, 800 kilometers, maybe even a hair shirt. I envy her this. But she is single and her children are grown..

My kids are also grown up. Among them we have six grandchildren for whom we have a certain amount of financial responsibility. You can't have it all! The mutual responsibility my husband and I have for each other sometimes limits our wild desires to be ten years old and free to explore anything. But we have every morning to read the papers on the porch on the edge of the swamp in this interesting and beautiful place we have made, with the loud birds and frogs calling, enveloped with wild flowers and the long shadows of early morning. And we talk our heads off about politics and everything else.. And we have the nights in our high bed with the dog! These are the rewards of a long and interesting marriage.

But it still is spice to travel yonder to swim with pink dolphins in the Amazon River or dance on top of the world in Peru, or walk for miles in Bologna. I'm not done yet!

Damn chickens!

Here is Quincy with the chickens!

Last week I took my grandson, Quincy over to my friend's place to see their chickens. He was quite delighted with it all; the chicken house that was safe from predators, the nesting boxes, the names of the hens, and most of all, the beautiful feathers he found on the ground for his "collection".

These chickens have been a source of envy to me! I have wanted to have chickens for ages. Once, years back, we had a few chickens that were given to our daughter and we had to take them back and forth between Dade City and St. Pete every weekend. Those chickens were a big drag, quite honestly, because in town they ran around our house and in my workplace, pooping everywhere with great abandon. One weekend in the country they were eaten by predators, probably a fox or a bobcat. Then, I was so frantic with everything else I had to do I had no time to concentrate on the needs of chickens, so it was a blessing, despite the tears, when they got et.

But, fast forward to the present. I love fresh eggs, and I love the physical presence of chickens with their beautiful and funny feathers and their amazing sounds. As a gardener, I know I would love having chickens eating bugs and depositing their droppings for fertilizer. I love the image of myself as a person Who Keeps Chickens. But we think of ourselves as the free spirits who come and go and it is hard enough to think about what to do with a small dog, let alone chickens. So, we are still chicken-free here on the ranch. (Cows take no particular day to day care.)

My spouse hates the idea of killing anything, especially a chicken. I tell him that we would have ALL HENS and they could provide us with the fresh eggs that are so much tastier than the ones we buy at the grocery store. We are still debating the issue.

Meanwhile, my friends who decided to keep chickens, ordered several batches of chicks and picked them up at the post office. Yes, that is how you do it. These tiny chicks were certified and promised that they would be all hens. I could hardly stand it not to go there every few days to see them growing up. And they are certainly beautiful! All glossy colors and breeds. They gave us delicious eggs when they had excess. During the day those chickens walk and strut around free and fly up into the trees and then go back into the chicken house into their little nests and lay double yolk blue eggs. Oh, how envious I have been!

Turns out that there were THREE roosters in the bunch and they were very abusive to the hens. Time for stewed chicken (roosters). So my friend's spouse said he'd do the dirty deed, leaving only one rooster. He got out the hatchet, and as the rooster rebelled, he accidentally hit his own hand with the blade. Lots of blood! He quickly bound up his hand with an old sock and carried on. My friend had the boiling water on to dunk those roosters and thus be able to pluck the feathers.

When it was all over, and the roosters plucked and in the freezer, it seemed that the injured hand needed major attention. So he went to his son, the veterinarian close by, and was stitched up in no time and bandaged with stuff dogs shouldn't chew.

I wonder if I should suggest that they go in for ostriches next? I hear that the meat is good.

Worries in the Green Swamp

A year ago I was obsessing about the resident sand hill cranes who were hatching eggs on their nest on the pond, their first clutch. Both of these two chicks died, one from unknown causes, and the other one was eaten by an alligator (in front of my eyes!) The parents, "Bob and Emily", just took off after this disaster and I thought I'd never see them again.

This year in early spring they returned, did their mating dance with much bugling and throwing of sticks. I carefully paid no attention (this is life in the wild). And then one day Bob and Emily appeared with one very cute reddish chick. All spring this family of three were to be seen in the pastures and in our yard. We named the baby Sidney. I found their nest in a different pond with no alligators and each night the family of cranes returned to their nest.

Three days ago I noticed that Bob was injured and limping! I was able to get close enough to see that his foot was intact and there did not seem to be anything broken. But he couldn't really get around very well. Emily and Sidney kept him in view at all times as he stood in the shade. When they got too far away, Bob bugled to them ("Get over here! I am still in charge!"), and they return to him.

So, I worry. Will Bob recover? Why are those buzzards hanging out in the trees overhead?

I always want to fix things. My beloved old dog ate something terrible and has been sick for two days. Seems she's better now, wanting to eat her food and greet friends.

There is always something to worry about! Of course there is the oil spill and unemployment and illegals I know and love..

But tonight there is a fullish moon and good friends to share dinner and the sides of the lane full of wildflowers. The blue curls are so elegant and tiny, and there are masses of small yellow daisies. The may pops on the fences have bloomed and are producing fruits. Iron weed is about to bloom, and our yard is full of all colors of crape myrtle. Despite the summer heat that we all complain about, this is truly the most beautiful place on earth.

The Two Habitats

I have two habitats, maybe three. The first one is my home on the edge of the Green Swamp, far away from everything. The water board folks occasionally drive through the property on their way to checking the river and tending to the vast acres on the watershed. But otherwise we live in our splendid green privacy where we shower outside in a grape arbor (and whoever goes out first in the morning must prune that shower curtain and urge the spiders to go elsewhere and flick off the green tree frogs who congregate there.) No swimsuits needed here.

We go to sleep with the cackles of the barred owls and wake up to the noise of the dawn chorus of birds. We sleep in our high bed with the dog and my quilts, nothing to wake us except the full moon shining once a month with such magic ferocity I must get up and walk around through the porches to admire it. In the moonlight I can see the cows lying peacefully in the meadow, and if I walk down to the fence I can smell their sweet breath.

But we must have our fix of urban life! Last week in midtown New York City, we strolled out to Times Square, after a wonderful restaurant dinner. Traffic has been banned there and there are lots of chairs and tables full of people (millions of people!) Above us the vast neon lights blinked and jazzed, reflected on the glass faces of the buildings. So many people! All kinds, ages. Tourists from Indiana, Muslims in full regalia, dreadlocks, very short skirts, turbans, kimonos, lots of babies in strollers, old folks, friendly policemen directing people. I can't get used to the noise! Sirens, taxis, the hum of hundreds of my countrymen having fun.

We took a long subway trip to a wedding and the whole thing was an adventure, a visual treat. Across the aisle on the train from us was a dad and his little girl, entwined in the need for sleep. I loved watching them as they kept hitching up their stuff as it fell apart. Many kisses. They were beautiful.

And then, as we exited the train, a family we had observed who was clearly on the way for a day at the beach with many kids and coolers, tumbled out of the car screaming and roiling and bursting. As we left the train, those usually uninvolved New Yorkers were stepping out from the doors, and there was clearly a bloodied woman calling for the police. It didn't happen in our car, but clearly there was some kind of assault.

The wedding took place in a park under the Brooklyn Bridge. No one could hear the words of the ceremony because of the racket from the trains crossing the bridge, but it was lovely - so New York.

We love the array of arts and music in the Big Apple and we eagerly embrace it. But at the end of the days we are exhausted from the bumping up against so many people. We are glad to get on the plane for home. I could hardly wait for the Moment when we drive down our lane between the fingers of swamp to home.

The third place we call ours is a small apartment we are renovating in the green and leafy part of Old Northeast St. Petersburg where we go sometimes to be with our family and friends. In terms of privacy, this place has the least. Neighbors are so near you could reach your hand out from your window and touch. But, unlike New York City, those neighbors seek to know you and watch out for you, and that is amazing.

Part of the price of living here is that the satellite sometimes refuses to download photos. So just imagine the contrast of the Green Swamp and Times Square.

Is technology affecting our brains?

In the last few days I have read in various newspapers (some of it on line) that 'studies show' and people think and psychologists contemplate that we spend entirely too much time in front of our digital screens large and small. It seems we are addicted!

There was the story in the NYT about children who cannot get any time from their parents because those parents were always texting or face booking or in some way or another hooked to the immediacy of their personal screens. We saw photos of families in which each member was engaged in some sort of technological interface with their chosen plasticated hardware as the family ate breakfast or dinner, each family member encapsulated in his or her own digital world.

And then there is the story today in our local newspaper about the guy in a pornography trial who was so addicted to those photos on line he could think of nothing else. What a quinella-the addiction to the computer screen and quirky sex!

I worry about this stuff. Like many people, I consider the computer a major part of my life line to the world. I connect to friends, shop, maintain political connections, connect with Facebook and utube, look up stuff, play games sometimes. When the internet is down so am I.

I have made the decision not to text or tweet, though I am tempted. Having come to age in a different and non digital world, I don't have the first instinct to call or text someone about every little thing. I grew up with regular phones and public phones when I had to go that way. I am glad for personal cell phones and actually use it as my primary phone. But it makes me absolutely crazy when the satellite that powers my computer goes down!

My five year old grandson who was trying to get on line today says to me, "This is the slowest computer I have ever seen!" Hey,this is paradise and far from anywhere! But I sympathisize. I think our brains are becoming different.

I don't know where we are going! I do not believe that the friends of mine who have decided to eschew cell phones and/or email are on the right track. I do believe that the constant texting and phoning is mostly quite silly and inconsequential, not to say dangerous when we are in our cars or in the proximity of our kids.

Today I received an actual handwritten letter from a young friend. He thanked me for my gift of time and love, and it was lovely. We forget in this digital age that personal attention is best. We all want to spit on the signatures to find out if what we receive is not ersatz.

What do you think?

Moving Days

When insomniac during the period of selling our old house, working on selling our daughter's house, putting in a bid on this one and generally trying to make the ham and eggs come out even, I counted the number of moves we have made over the years- fifteen!

So, we are going to try the grand experiment of living in a family compound. What you see here is the main house where our daughter and her family will live. In back there is a funky three car garage with an apartment above it. That's ours!

The main house is lovely, a restored 1925 bungalow updated with a great kitchen, new energy efficient everythings, hardly any yard to take care of, and in an old fashioned neighborhood with neighbors who pop in to bring welcomes. (and tell all about the past owner.)

The so-called carriage house aka the funky garage is all potential. The contractors will begin in a couple of weeks to make it into a comfortable and even stylish two floor abode for us when we come to town a couple of days a week. I am certainly on board for all the actual facts of moving. We spent a day unpacking the kitchen stuff, horsing around and setting up furniture, taking everything out of the POD, breaking down boxes, and trying to find stuff.

The dogs were particularly irritating as they whined around being insecure and getting underfoot. Quincy, who's five, was delighted with it all and very excited to find that his beloved stuffed animals made it through a couple of months in the POD. He explained to me that Goldie, the stuffed goldfish had been o.k. because there was lots of fish food in the POD, but she was happy to get out. I can hardly think about the day when our own storage unit will appear. Surely no roach, let alone a stuffed fish would make it!

I am o.k. with the actual moving and I can imagine the process of gutting the garage and putting in a living space for us. Basically, I think this idea is a good one. I think of days when
Quincy will pop over for breakfast or we'll all eat dinner together on the future patio. I imagine my daughter and me walking our dogs down to the waterfront in the cool of the evening..

But for me, home is here on the edge of the Green Swamp. I fell in love with this place twenty years ago. It's terribly inconvenient, like having a lover in Argentina. Though I had the best work anyone could have, I craved those weekends, even before we built the house and all the other structures and we camped out with the bugs. I love the land and the space and the gardens and the privacy and the possibilities of the natural world. And now that I really live here, I can expand my horizon to include the local community and new friends and commitments. What could be more perfect than the long hours I spend making quilts and pots and paintings? Or walking up to the main house in the evening where my husband is finishing the dinner for us? Or having friends visit and we sit on the porch watching the birds?

We will have our own place in town and it fills me with the greatest pleasure and gratitude that our daughter truly wants us there and that we will go there and know that in that big house across the yard are people we dearly love. And I also know that as the years go by and we cannot manage our country lives, our small city place will be just right. Not yet, though.

I'm Back!

Here's Dylan with his sculpture made from the huge quantities of squash I brought from my garden into Lacoochee School on my last day of volunteering this year. It was a very fun day and the creations were awesome. We ate prodigious amounts of local watermelon, distributed their cookbooks from our year of cooking, and finished the day with the last chapter of "Little House on the Prairie". I have loved my 'adopted' classroom. I know I will see these kids next year, and maybe some of them over the summer at my 'camp' here at the ranch. I love these kids.

While my internet connection was down for several weeks I have been seeing the vegetable garden through to the harvest. The lettuce was the first to be fried by our early summer heat. But the cucumbers have loved this hot and rainy time. We have maybe twenty cukes each day, and even the tomatoes are coming along. We had to repair the fence that fell down under the weight of all those heavy squash. Even in this hot weather there is always something to eat.

This morning very early we began digging a channel for the new cable from the satellite. It is about five hundred feet from my studio to the main house, and lots of roots along the way! Now, all is completed, our backs are tired and we will sleep well tonight.

Here is a typical evening's harvest. I feel like a wonderful purveyor to the cook! "Here's what there is today. What will you do with it?" Andy, the cook, makes very interesting dishes with what I bring.

During this time of a few weeks, actually two months, all we can think about is the oil leaking into the Gulf. None of us have ever considered oil rigs. They were just out there (Drill, baby, drill) and I have never supported having those rigs anywhere near. But now I scour the photos and the streaming videos, trying to understand what is happening.

I think this is a disaster of enormous proportion to us all. I think of the children's book 'Motel of the Mysteries' in which in the far future some anthropologists have unearthed a civilization that was buried in paperwork. Will our current society be buried and left for dust by the unintended consequences of technology? There is so much stuff happening in technology! Who of us could have known that the drilling for oil would bring such disaster?

And who of us could have known how greed has insinuated itself into every part of our lives? I have watched the Florida politicians of late hang themselves on matters of ethics. The only candidate (so far!) I can support is Alex Sink for governor -smart, capable, and squeaky clean ethically. I was impressed at first with Charlie Crist as he became independent, but right now he looks like a lightweight, ethically speaking. Surely he had to know about those cronies close to him. And if he did not, as he said, he's not that bright.

Aargh! Seems just right to us to live here on the edge of the Green Swamp where nights are dark and stars are bright, where bobcats and alligators cross the road and swallow tail kites fly in the sky and little kids can collect ant lions in the sand.

Cinco de Mayo and tomato hornworms

First, I have to vent about the lack of internet access if one happens to be a persopn living in rural America! Our only option is a satellite, that works only fitfully. So, again no photos because I am writing on a miserable net book without that big hard drive full of photos.

The Cinco de Mayo celebration in the fourth grade at Lacoochee Elementary was spectacular! I lugged in about a ton of stuff (with help from the kids): picadillo, tortillas, rice, fixings for guacamole, pineapple and giant grapes, and flan! I didn't know how much help I would have, but muchas senoras showed up with cooked beans they smashed and cooked again for refried beans. My favorite teacher, Rachel, brought in lots of sour cream, cheese, and the best corn tortillas made by her mother-in-law. One of the volunteer senoras brought in hand made decorations and I had my cd player belting out Celia Cruz. The kids were very interested in a huge and extremely heavy mortar and pestle one mom brought in to use to make the guacamole.

The making of the fiesta and the eating of the comida took a couple of hours and lots of other teachers came by to join in the fun. Afterwards when we had cleaned up everything in the multipurpose room, we went outside to do the pinata thing.

Rachel's husband is a teacher in this school too, and he is always into eating any of the stuff we make, so this day, after pronouncing the picadillo very good, I asked him to find a place to hang up the pinata I had filled with candy (I had considered filling it with politically correct and educational trinkets, but none of them would fit into the small orifice, so I went with candy.)

We all trooped out to the playground and fixed the hot pepper pinata to monkey bars with stout twine. These Mexican kids knew exactly what to do, they had done it many times before. There is a special chant, some rules (all new to me). So these kids were out oin the hot sun whacking away at a giant red cardboard jalapeno pepper. Eventually the thing just died of exhaustion and broke open. The kids all jumped on it in a clot more violent than anything in NFL.

It was the best. So satisfying to all, dangerous, potentially hurtful.

I loved this zany celebration and how kids and adults just hung out together and had fun all afternoon. I love this school that has the confidence and expansiveness to embrace this kind of joy. I especially loved being welcomed by these Mexicans who put up with my newly minted Spanish.

As I gathered together all the remains of the grand feast parents I didn't even know who were waiting for their kids sprang up to help us trundle everything out to my car. And several parents who are working on our school garden hurried up to tell me what was happening in all those containers. The corn! The beans! The peppers!

With my car chuck full of dirty pots and dishes I pulled out of the parking lot as six women colorfully clad in bright yellow traditional Mexican dresses were massing outside the auditorium. I just had to stop my car and leap out to give each of them a hug. I know some of them as the moms of kids I know. Others are the gardeners.

Speaking of which, I discovered a tomato horn worm on my best tomato plant approximately the size of a wiener dog. I cut it in six pieces with my garden scissors. I am spraying with BT, all an organic gardener can do. And I trapped an armadillo last night. The pests are here! Went to Lowes today and bought netting to cover the plants from squirrels and birds. Tomorrow morning when it's cool I plan to put down weed cover to quell the immense amount of dollar weed sprouting on all the garden paths.

I am here alone for a couple of days, not a bad thing. I love the solitude and privacy, the dawn chorus of birds, the hummingbirds busy in the honeysuckle, the crane family stalking around, proud of junior who is losing his red color and starting to get a bustle. I love working in the vegetable garden before it gets hot. It's similar to doing a jig saw puzzle because you just think about what you are doing now. Oh, yes, I thought this weed would never come back. Should I leave this morning glory? What about the volunteer zinnias? Yes, the butterflies love them. Oh, here is a lovely brown toad. And before you know it, the sun is getting high in the sky and I am dripping with sweat.

Blazing hot!

I vowed that I would never complain again about hot weather, but I am recanting. Zip! On the first of May, it became mid August with temperatures above ninety. So we cranked up the A/C a month early.

The vegetable garden that faired poorly in the cold spring is not that adaptable. It was the year that we had at least six big pickings of English peas, but in this heat wave, the squash overwhelmed them, glad to be able to reach out tentrils to something already there. The red pontiac potatoes are doing very well and we eat them daily. I love those little babies, so sweet and crunchy and fun to find by digging my fingers into the dirt where there are so many earthworms now. Collards are spectacular and I have covered with netting the tomato plants that are attractive to the birds and squirrels. This year I put out the tomatoes early and planted them in large containers. What a difference that made! No nematodes, and so far no tomato horn worms. We are already picking cherry tomatoes.

I have covered the salad tables with left over screening so we are still harvesting lettuces. Cucumbers are coming on.

I have never seen such an infestation of dollar weed! I heavily mulch the actual vegetables with hay, but the paths between are verdant with the beautiful circles of this pervasive weed. Many self seeded zinnias are springing up and I treasure them, as do the butterflies.I heavily mulch but in a few days dollar weed is back. We replaced a jute mat on our porch and I put the old one out in the garden to smother weeds. It works very well. I need more old biodegradable mats!

The bottom line is that most of the vegetables we eat come from this family garden.

Our gentle bull, Nugene, didn't live up to his potential and he was taken away today, soon to replaced by another more horny bull. We want every cow to have a calf and Nugene didn't accomplish this.

I love these days of just this and that in this paradise of tree canopy, sounds of frogs and insects and so many songbirds. Lots of work to maintain this but it is worth it!

Can't do a blog without some thoughts about the crazy Florida politics happening. So what is wrong about taxes?? Those taxes get us what we need for a decent life style. It's called democratic government! I am glad that Charlie went independent. Just maybe he has a chance. I am voting for Meek I think, but I am for anyone who can be a spoiler for Rubio. (Are you all amazed at the bottom feeders who have also come out as candidates?)

Keep growing your own food! Stay tuned for my report on our Cinco de mayo fiesta happening at Lacoochee school.

The Process of Quilting

There are two best things about making quilts. First, there is the initial process of thinking about the person who will receive it. ( I rarely make a quilt for us.)

The second thing is just doing it.

Usually the recipient gives me some guidelines about what they want, and they never want anything classic, and they always want something really hard to do. This is my great challenge and I love to do it!

They tell me that they love dogs. So dogs it is and I scour the fabric stores and the thrift shops for images of dogs and when I have collected these I spend hours putting the collage together, and then hours appliqueing them into the final image. And of course I must invent many of the elements from my vast stash of many colored fabrics.

I apply all these elements with careful stitches onto an appropriate background, usually made from some kind of classical patchwork. All the while I am thinking of the recipient of this quilt, and this is really the best part.

I listen to music the whole time, and when I need to spin more bobbins for the sewing machine I take a break and go outside and water the lettuce or look at the moon.

I am a self taught quilter so my quilts are incredibly idiosyncratic. (The ladies in the quilt store are quite appalled!) Nothing classic about my quilting!

Here is an early photo of a landscape quilt for a dear young man who is graduating from college in a month. He didn't want dogs or anything specific so I went for images of his life as a redneck Floridian. (The back side of the quilt will be quite sedate.)

I have discovered that boys and men love quilts just as much as the women do.

After making so many quilts I have learned so much. My quilts are much stronger now and can take a lot of abuse. I know that young people don't wash stuff very often so I give them colors and constructions that can stand up for a long time.

But the bottom line is that I love to do this quilting thing for the people I love. I am happy thinking of them curled up under these basic covers, warm and enveloped and sharing my DNA ( and the dog hairs) from so many hours of work. I am happy to think of the many folks who have been facing life threatening issues who are curled up under my quilts and I love to think of the students who may be scrunched up under my quilts while they study or make love, or the babies sucking their thumbs under a fluffy quilt, and the newly weds happily hunkered down with their new responsibilities under a king sized Molly quilt.

So, back to squaring up this new quilt! Got to get the binding on, another few hours to think of my good friend who'll receive it.

Firefly magic

Just at dusk, before it is thoroughly dark these days the edge of the woods fills with a million flickering lights of the seasonal fireflies. And behind them is the harmonic resonance of the frogs, tuned together into such a magnificance of nature, who could not be awed?

Before dinner I went out to the vegetable garden with my five year old grandson and I introduced him to the bliss of eating fresh raw English peas and finding little new potatoes like treasure from underground. "Grandma Molly! Is this pod plump enough?" he asks. I show him how to tell and he stands there happily pulling off those fat pods and finding those incredibly green babies all lined up in their green row boats and ready to be eaten. We find some carrots and roll a number of pea pods into a collard leaf to take inside for dinner with the nine potatoes we dug.

We are fresh (but very tired) from hours in town where we have been pursuing our complicated real estate deal that has included selling two houses and combining our families into one new place. Our daughter has a wonderful new 1925 restored bungalow in old northeast with a carriage house on the back. It will be up to us to remodel this for us. Quite a challenge! We do not worry because our main home is here (in paradise) on the edge of the Green Swamp, not in spitting distance of anything man made. Still, it will be interesting to make something unique out of this and we don't flinch, having done this many times before.

Late this afternoon when the shadows were long and dark and grandpa was making dinner from the garden, Quincy and I drove out in the golf cart to explore the pastures. He asks me, "Why do you have two houses?" I try to explain this, giving him some simple history of our situation. I tell him that no way will we give up our ranch and that our new place in back of his new house will just be for us to come to not so often. And we want to come to his place because we love him and his mom and want to have a place to see our friends we have known for ever so long.

Five year olds keep you honest! So many questions! But Quincy knows in a deep way that this place is his. He's comfortable in the bedroom that used to be his mom's, and his tether is so long now on the place!

He knows what we do, and expects to go with me to my classroom volunteer gig at Lacoochee Elementary School on Tuesday. We are discussing the possible cooking activities!

It is not only the fireflies and the magic of being here in such a paradise. It is the getting to know a small community of local folks who really care and show up and help each other- Richard and Kathy, Virginia and Norman, the Greens, Judy, Nia and Dave, and Cpl. Hink, Kristen, and so many others who in their quiet ways really make a difference! Whatever we are, black, white, hispanic, we care in all the small communities across the land. It is so affirming and keeps me from the despair I could easily feel right now being an American.

The Spring Garden is producing!

This blog has gone a bit south because my computer access has been limited due to technical problems. However, I am trying to get going on this puny mini netbook whose connection will crash at any moment.
The spring garden (sorry, no photos yet), has been struggling because there was such an abundance of cold weather, then followed by really hot mid days. The lettuce has not been truly thriving, but we are eating broccoli, asparagus and arugula most nights. There is always something kin the garden to sustain us and our friends. I am salivating in advance of the English peas that are plumping up for a feast this next weekend. Cucumbers, squash, tomatoes, carrots, beets, beans, onions and potatoes are all potential at the moment.
Every night we are trapping armadillos, possums and raccoons outside the vegetable garden fence. We think the raccoons are the varmints who empty the bird feeders, and the armadillos are intent on breaching the fence around the vegetable garden, and if they are thwarted they just dig really deep holes in the yard so I keep the hoe handy. I renewed the flags on top of the fence to discourage the deer, so far successful.
Dollar weed has invaded the vegetable garden, no matter how deep the mulch, and each day I pull out what I have the energy for. We replaced a large jute mat we had on the porch so I took it out to the garden and plunked it down on top of the dollar weed, covered it with mulch, and so far at least that section looks pristinely free of weeds.
What I love about gardening in central Florida is that every year is different! So, this spring we haven't had any love bugs or caterpillars to notice. (yet!) But we have gnats to hate! The hummingbirds came back right on schedule, but where are the chimney swifts? The monarch butterflies are applying chrysalises to everything and the owls make noisy love all night.
The stars are bright and I look for bats in our bat house. Iwalk down to the pond to look for what's there. Maybe alligators? Certainly kingfishers and Florida ducks hunkered down for the night.
I see five deer out by the feeder, two fawns.
And now, I must tend to the voluminous watering schedule we have during the dry season.