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.

Undocumented

It's a safe bet to say that most of the children here are undocumented. Certainly most of their parents are.
These kids come to school like any others. Here they are cooking vegetables from the school garden, and as with any other kids, they understand in their inchoate way that everything will be available to them.

For most of my life I never thought about the issue of immigration other than the Ivy League courses about the beginnings of America and the waves of immigrants coming from various places, finally making it to the Statue of Liberty and the huddled masses yearning to breathe free. How naive I was!

Now I struggle to figure out how to make it happen for undocumented Mexican children to be able to go to camp. They don't have health insurance, a requirement even for camperships.

I wish that our elected representatives could know how it is to live in constant fear of deportation. I wish these elected officials could experience how it is to have dangerously crossed the border with the kids on your backs because you wanted a better life for your children and you couldn't see any other way to do it. You were willing to accept less than a second class deal because you wanted so much to be here where your kids would have a good chance at the brass ring.

My friend, Maria (not her real name), and her husband have two truly gifted kids, and their life is a struggle against fear from the deportation issue. Of course they do not have driver licenses, social security numbers, library cards. They are afraid to take vacations - one small lapse and they will be deported, separated from their kids. They have saved for their kids' college expenses but who knows if even this backward state of Florida will actually let undocumented students get into higher education?

We have such a huge group of Hispanics in the U.S. They drive our agriculture and they work everywhere. Their kids are our treasure.

Immigration reform must be at the top of our list of American priorities.

Memories of Travel

The four of us- my brother and his wife, Andy and I- have been traveling together for many years. Here we are in a garden in New Zealand just about to enjoy an extraordinary lunch. Everything about that trip was perfect.

This evening here in Florida we are again together for a wonderful homely meal of soup and salads from the garden and amazing conversation. Brother Brooks and Carolyn are here for two weeks. They live on the other side of the country and for many years, long before any of us retired, we have gotten together twice a year.  One of those annual visits with each other have been to go to some fantastic place.

We are getting older and the prospect of spending long hours folded up on airplanes is less appealing. Our trip this year was one to explore the end of the Lewis and Clark expedition in Oregon. We flew there, and now Brooks and Carolyn have come east to enjoy some Florida sunshine and the magic of life in the Green Swamp. We take interesting day trips and come home evenings.

It was always my pleasure to plan the trips, arranging for a rental house and car, researching everything to do and see. Italy! (multiple times and places), France, New Zealand, Alaska..

Tonight we sit around the table, the candles burning low and our bellies full and we recall some of those details (and what we ate) on those amazing trips. All we need to do is utter some word, and we are off on the flood of wonderful memories. "Flat white" - and we are recalling how on our New Zealand trip we stopped every morning to buy coffee with hot milk. And remember the blue penguins that arrived every night flopping through the surf to scurry back to their nests?

During those years I also made annual trips with my dearest friend, Marie, never on any planned tours, to exotic places in central and south America. Those were the rugged and just dangerous enough treks to the Amazon, the Galapagos, remote places in Costa Rica and Panama, Peru and Brazil. We would look at each other upon arrival wherever it was and say, "We're here!" In many ways my trips with Marie were the most challenging, and also the most truly carefree. We had no family to please or look out for - it was just purely us. If we chose to walk out by ourselves into the rain forest with a man dressed only in a loin cloth and packing a bow and quiver of spears, we did it because we had the chance to see a harpy eagle. And in what other circumstances would one happily eat guinea pigs?

Our heads are stuffed with these memories, so much more valuable than things. My good friends here are off on a trip to India on Monday. I envy them this and I will be first in line when they get back to hear all the details and view the photos. They are going on a group tour, possibly the best way to go.
Travel is the best for one's mind.  I hope to be remembering all the places I've been and all the people and ideas I've met until I'm past ninety-five!

Bad Jacket

At the end of October I was looking forward to wearing those wonderful Chicos jeans in size zero. I could cover up my wrinkled legs, browned from gardening in cargo shorts, frayed from ten months of life outdoors.

So, here we are in another frosty morning and close to freezing. The beloved jeans are old news and getting frayed on the bottoms. When I go out the mile long driveway to get the morning papers I grab the dreaded bad jacket.

I bought this jacket on line. It seemed like just the thing- a subtle plaid or solid with a fleece lining. But they didn't have it in a solid color, only in this bright red screaming plaid. I was cold at the time, so I bought it. I am not a plaid person. However, it is warm. I hate wearing it; it makes me feel ugly like a dumpster diver or a bag lady. It is not me. This jacket is tough and could be wearable for years and years. As a frugal person, I could just keep on wearing it for season after season.

So, a few days ago I ordered a new jacket. This one is in powder blue, close fitting, fleece, from sustainable machines. They said it would arrive in a few days, but so far I am still using the dreaded red plaid jacket. Maybe tomorrow it will come, and maybe tomorrow the weather will improve and I will have to inspect those old cargo shorts.

Here in Central Florida we are hard hit by continual cold weather. Our homes are not meant to be warm - unless it is summer. We complain about the dry cold and we stoke the seldom used fireplaces and give thanks for our dogs who sleep in the bed (and run hot as dogs do).

Keep warm.

Frozen!!

We are all anxious because there has been a freeze warning! So, of course all our yards look as if strange ghosts have appeared - our sheets and beach towels are covering our favorite plants. They are kept by clothespins from blowing away in the wind.

We have unearthed strange arrays of clothing layers Floridians wear in case of freezing in emergencies. Usually these are florals and plaids and/or really ugly reindeer sweaters that for months or years hide quietly in the back of our closets, discarded a few years back because they were so ugly and still are, but you have to keep them "just in case".  So, if you go to a local Walmart in Florida during cold weather, you'll see us, wearing that riot of stout colors..

No matter what the forecast says, we are looking forward to spring. There are azaleas blooming in our yards and buds are swelling.  At some point we can get back to shorts and flip flops.

Wherever I go there is small talk about local gardens, chicken trading, livestock issues and lots of comments about rural political concerns.  So different from my last past urban life!

Our community/school garden is doing well. Patty (one of the garden ladies) and I met early this morning at school before the cold front came in, and we spent a companionable hour weeding and checking and being entertained by the sandhill cranes who are in the vicinity in huge numbers. They have drilled hundreds of holes all around the garden, but they seem not to have wrecked any of the raised beds.

As the new semester unfolds we will continue to have our junior garden club meet after school. Looks like we'll have so many greens we can supply the Girls and Boys Club for a long time.  We also have the commitment from the Dade City Garden Çlub to fund ten kids to go to Camp Wekiva, a state ecology camp, for a week this next summer.

What's on my mind is thinking about what some of the folks who work so hard and generously on the community garden think about this "camp thing".  The Dade City Garden Club will fund ten camper ships, a deal I think is incredibly generous. (each one is worth $250 for a five day sleep-away camp experience.)

But we have more than ten kids in the garden club! And they are devoted kids. So how can we pick up the other six kids?

Interesting. Some of us say that everyone should be included - we'll find a way. Others say that kids should compete to get to the top and go to camp. But some think that kids cannot compete considering the dysfunction of their parents. Kids are not responsible for their parents! And the others say that this is tough love. The bottom line must be drawn.

I used to think that this was a Republican voice, mean spirited - but now I'm not so sure. I see so many good people who carefully think about how our democracy should be..

But I still think that we people who are the "haves" must take responsibility for the "have nots" and not be too judgmental, especially when it comes down to kids who have had no choice about who their parents are.

Still thinking (and freezing).

The Garden in Winter

Who would ever think there would be pumpkins and tomatoes this time of year? But there it is, the big pumpkin, getting fatter every day. We have already harvested several others and made pies and soup. And the tomatoes keep coming, though they are not nearly as prolific as they were in hot weather.

The vegetable beds are bursting with sparkling greens and lettuces and broccoli and it all keeps us eating well.

We have had a few cool nights, some rain, so everything in the vegetable and flower gardens is happy and growing despite the shorter days.

My grandsons and other young friends have worked on transporting huge quantities of mulch for the veg garden floor so it will be awhile before the dollar weed surfaces. I keep on planting more lettuces and mesclun. Quincy, the nine year old vegetarian, spends time in the garden picking and always eating the pea pods there.

The flower gardens are evolving as well. The orchids are mostly in full bloom on the pool deck and the native orange shrimp plants are just getting into full throttle by the screen porch.

Up north where folks are battling below zero weather, ice storms and such, they do not have to think about their gardens! All is silent and dormant there.

But here, we have continuous garden activity, ever changing and always needing something.

This place is amazingly beautiful in all seasons - so lush during the summer rains and heat, and now just at neutral. We always expect a freeze or two here in central Florida, but so far it has not happened and the pastures are still green. Red bud trees are beginning to flower and we are seeing flocks of redwing blackbirds and robins. Every night there are at least a dozen tree frogs on our bathroom window.

The alligators and turtles in the pond are basking in mid day and the reptile world is everywhere.

After a two week period of major family visits and incredible happiness to see them all, I am content to hunker down on my beloved land.

Happy New Year to you all!

Nine

Here is Anna, nine years old, with the pumpkin she carved all by herself with a sharp knife and her personal vision. Anna has a sturdy sense of herself. 

Among all these twenty kids we deal with two times a week in the junior garden club at the elementary school, Anna stands out. She is the one who can plant seedlings, no problem with extricating them from the nine packs. She seems to know the spacing, the depth, how to firm the earth around them. Anna's spouts will always grow. She knows how to plant seeds at the right depth and pat them down. 

Last week the garden club had a soup extravaganza featuring vegetables from the garden. We had spent an hour cooking everything and setting up for the expected parents and friends who would attend. 

This was a beautiful event. Many of the parents and siblings came, and by now the kids have learned a few table manners and are not so wild. 

Near the end of the afternoon, when everyone was full of collards and had said how much they loved this soup and salad and garlic bread, all made by the kids, Anna came up to me and asked could she say a few words. 

So we got everyone quiet and Anna stepped up in the front of the room. Anna's family did not attend, but if they had, they would be so proud of her.  With no notes, no hesitation, Anna proceeded to tell everyone how much the garden meant to them all, how thankful she was to have had this experience, how much she treasured the fellowship. I was blown away! Worth living for.

My own grandson is also just nine, and this time when he is staying here (not just a visitor, he has his own room), we have noticed such a change. He is no longer just a lovable kid. Yes, he's still that, but now he is a real partner in the workings of our place, takes his place in the chores and business of being a part of this household. And we have such wonderful conversations and partnership in learning new stuff.

One dinnertime he asked us something very few of our friends or family ever have: "When no one else is here and you are just here together what do you do?" He really wanted to know! It's still a big stretch for him to think that we have a routine that includes an hour of exercise, foreign language learning, etc. But he can relate to the hours we spend outside in the gardens and mending fences and tending to the land. He wanted to know when we did this. For all the many years he has often visited, he has known us as the folks who make delicious breakfasts, engage him in many activities, read aloud to him for far longer than a parent could, and try to explain just about anything. I think it is the greatest affirmation when someone, even a nine year old, really asks about you.

So, this is the beautiful NINE! I love it.

The Madness About Gift Giving for the Holidays

This stuff about shopping for the holidays is crazy! Why do we think these ideas of blockbuster sales, get this or that in the next nine minutes, leave your Thanksgiving table to stand in line overnight for that flat panel t.v. are all so great?

My daughter came for the weekend to hunker down in my studio to make many wonderful gifts. There were bags and puzzles and useful holders for this and that. There were stuffed animals, all amazing and lovely.

"Who are these things for", I asked her. They are for distant family members she barely knows, but she feels obligated.

Where did this come from? This obligation everyone seems to have this time of year?

When I was a kid soon after the end of WWII, no one had any money. My folks strived to make Christmas special for their five kids. My dad, who was never a carpenter at all, sawed maple 2x4's into a huge set of blocks. He spent his evenings from Halloween until Christmas in a neighbor's basement, sanding these and waxing them. A month before Christmas my mom sneaked away all the dolls my sister and I had and made new clothes for them, and dresses to match for us, to reappear on Christmas morning. One Christmas I found an entire Girl Scout  outfit my mother had made right there above my stocking. Another Christmas there was a bicycle for me - a lovingly restored used bike. To tell the truth, I was always just a bit disappointed because I really wanted the new and store-bought.

Now that I am old and have no need of anymore stuff, I find it harder and harder to understand what this impetus is to GET MORE STUFF!

I think that many folks rely on the holiday gift exchanges to  get things they need and luxuries they crave. We spent last Christmas with some in-laws of our family and we were amazed at the sheer volume of the gifts and the obvious expense and thought that had gone into this extravaganza. Giving these things (and receiving them!) is a part of doing the expected thing in so many families.

So, back to the hand made items, the repurposed things, the regifted and the giving of old family treasures. Everything has a place in this crazy holiday frenzy. I just wish there was not so much stress about it.

Free Day!

Once in awhile I have a free day, no meetings, no classes for kids, no commute the 65 miles to see friends in my old community. And so, I hunker down in my studio and paint. Right now I am painting a large vision of Victorians, stiff and sitting for their portrait. Right now it is all potential. Tomorrow I will have to remove it from the table so it will be free for a clay workshop when ten people will come to make earthenware planters. These folks will come and have some hours of creativity, energetic talk, and a soup and salad lunch from the garden.

I really enjoy these adults, so different from the needs of the kids in my class you see in the photo here who made scarecrows to discourage the sandhill cranes from all their pecking in our community garden for kids. But what they all have in common is the desire to make things. The kids have made wonderful clay planters, kind of rough, and they are waiting in the queue to be fired.

I have rolled out the clay slabs in anticipation for the group to come. I love it that adults who have no experience with sculpture/clay take a chance and end up loving it! Unlike the kids' classes, I do not have to get my energy up to make it happen. It is a gentle thing to conduct a class for adults who want to be here.

Free days mean I can exercise my three miles with weights, do my language lessons, do my meditation walk in the woods, and anything else. So great to be retired!