Arrogance?

Here is Quincy, seven years old, beautiful and bright, the love of my life as a grandma, treasured by all. Sorry, Pope Benedict. You do not get it. Boosted fertility is a right we have now, thanks to reproductive science. Four of my (almost) eight grandchildren would not be here otherwise. These are wanted kids who will be cherished and cared for. How can this be arrogance?

So, we are now into such a crazy place in the campaign. As Maureen Dowd said in her column in the NYT today, are the GOP candidates now actually saying that sex is bad? I don't think that idea will actually fly, considering the hundreds of thousands of years of human history. Just look at any edition of your news.

It does make a kind of weird sense, though. If your political party opposes any kind of safety net or education expenses for kids, opposes parents who may be gay, tramples on womens' rights to judge how many kids they can take care of, maybe just have no sex at all. Could work? Aargh! Where have we come to?

So, back to Quincy (fertility assisted, gay mom). This little guy will be a major player in the world someday. His community loves him and cares for him and gives him models of altruism and competence. His family is colorful and loving.

Of course, I also think of those dark skinned Mexical illegals I know whose kids are just as fabulous as Quincy. And they would be considered even less worthy by our current GOP candidates who think they should be deported, and certainly not have a chance at a college education.

I am thinking of the Romneys sitting down to a Thanksgiving dinner. Would that magnificent table include family and friends of color? Gays? Would some of them be wearing head scarves? Would the feast have to include the dietary needs of everyone? I wonder..

Where will it end? And what is it about getting rid of Obama, the bottom line? What are they thinking? Obama has done brilliantly considering the cards he has been dealt. This guy is smart, humanitarian, able and inclusive. (is it race?)

So, my garden is great. The time I put into it is my meditation. Tonight we ate the first spring broccoli, lettuce to follow. A visiting large dog seemed to chase away the pesky squirrels for now. Got to bate the traps for the oppossums who are eating the oranges. The deer are still a problem, eating the pansies as dessert after the roses. The pastures are now changing to a wonderful green and there are wild dogwoods in bloom in the woods.

The Way it's Spozed to be

Every week or so I visit my old school where I had been a director/teacher for most of my teaching life. Today I carried in a bale of greens from my garden to give to the teachers, and a bag of yarn and crochet needles so I could help with the crocheted coral reef the kids are making.

As I entered the front hall, it was eerily quiet, only Gigi, the long haired cat was there sprawled out on a table in one of the classrooms. Up the hall, the kindergarten/first grade was busily humming, their guinea pigs scuffling in their pen, lots of writing going on with tongues sticking out, small groups working on various games. After greeting the class, I continue up the long hall, past the colorful paintings on the walls.

I have to visit Linda's room (and my grandson I haven't seen in a week!) This classroom has such incredible texture- all in orderly array. There are books, computers, games, pets, manipulatives, every kind of tool a kid could need. I can see that this group of second and third graders are now in the midst of doing individual reports on geography. This is their first foray into research, a totally new deal. Linda guides them gently and individually, sends off many directives to parents and encourages everyone.

But where are the other kids, the oldest two groups? I continue up the hall to the church sanctuary where for years we have had Shakespearean rights. Thirty kids are winding up the last scene of "A Midsummer Night's Dream", the play they will perform for the community in three weeks. I creep up and sit in a back pew to see what's happening. Different kids, but the same joy and teamwork. As always, I am amazed that such young kids can handle Shakespearean language and have learned all those lengthy lines. I notice the ones who have a definite spark, the ones who can project their voices. All of these kids, the principals, Bottom and Puck, the fairies, the stage managers, are consumed with this project of producing their play. Parents and grandparents show up to help with scenery and sets and costumes. Everyone is involved.

Just a few weeks back, these kids took the battery of standardized tests - and did well to brilliantly. These are just regular kids. But they have a lot more on their plate than just the fear of tests and the test prep.

After lunch, some kids went to a Yoga class, some hunkered down with art materials, some worked with each other on their lines for the play. I sat with eight kids from different classes who wanted to work on the coral crochet project. I am a total beginner with this, but I enjoyed trying to help even the lefties. During this time a couple of (parents? grandparents?) showed up, and they really knew how to instruct us.

In this school the kids just welcome anyone. Hey, we are a team. Let's help each other. There is such a warmth and texture of possibility, such a high standard gently set, what child could not be a winner?

Why, oh why, does the state of Florida set up our teachers for failure? (F schools!)
At Lacoochee Elementary School, where I volunteer and know virtually every kid, I wish the Florida vision for education would just let this amazing school run free.

Give this gifted principal the freedom to do what she knows will help every child be literate and strive for more. The spectre of being an F school is so unfair.

What amazing things could happen if every principal could make decisions without reprisal, just breathe in hugely, and be creative!

I'm a Believer

I am a believer in fact based science. Yes, things change as we get more information.

What are these cranes telling us? This time of year they are grouping in social (and very loud!)clubs on our property. Scientists are studying them, figuring out their migration and nesting habits. We may come to know the facts about what these elegant birds do. And we will come to know why it is important to protect them.

Scientists, it seems to me, are looking for answers about the why of being on the globe, and beyond.

This is not a 'belief'. It is not a phony religion. Knowledge about our planet and the humans and plants and critters that inhabit it can be known, and we are constantly making progress in our knowledge.

Global warming/climate change: Not a religion and not a belief system. Just look at the facts.

You thought this was not political! Climate change is not a religion, not subject to faith. It's not something to "believe' in. Or not. Just look at the facts. It's happening.

Santorum would be a major disaster. That's all I'm saying.

How to lose weight and be healthy

In this last year my husband has lost more than fifty pounds and he is now the handsome guy I fell in love with. I am ten pounds lighter. We have thunder thighs and no wattles on the low sides of our arms. We have energy!

So, here's how we did it. The key thing is aerobic exercise at least five times a week. He has a stationary bike he rides for half an hour, and I do fifty minutes of power walking/bands and weights (Leslie Sansome videos).

We do not count calories or do any kind of structured diet. What we do is cook everything we eat from scratch, even bread. We eat vegetables from our garden, no red meat, small amounts of fish and chicken a few times a week, eggs fresh from a neighbor's flock of chickens. We never eat dessert except for fresh fruit. We eat salad every day and this salad includes, besides all kinds of greens, fruit such as strawberries or oranges or apples, nuts, asparagus, or anything else in the vegetable kingdom. We do not use much salt.

Our dinner is an Event! Every night. The lights are low, candles lit, flowers, nice mats and cloth napkins. Good feng shay. I have even brushed my hair. We do not slap commercial things on the table. No ketchup bottles, no butter tubs, never any plastic.

We used to eat out a lot - banquets, fast food, take-out. Cutting these things out has made us healthy and thin.

Yeah, often I look in the fridge and see nothing (NOTHING!) to snack on. So I will grab a banana and think of the Queen- and how that Irish oatmeal for breakfast didn't last long.

Eating like this is super. I love my chef. Sometimes we have a blow-out meal with friends and we have an amazing dinner with a chocolate souffle for dessert. And this works!

We only really eat one proper meal, dinner. The table is set nicely and we eat and talk our heads off. I am not starving, I love our dinners, and I feel in great shape.

If We Really Care About Kids

Bishops and clerics and old guys in suits- sounds like the beginning of a ribald limerick. Unfortunately, it's not. These guys are weighing in on contraceptives. Yikes! Have we reeled back history?

Any woman today who is not totally marginal relies on the certitude of contraceptives, and we have done this for a long generation. We are not about to go back to the dark ages of barefoot and pregnant. Controlling our own fertility is now a right of women and we are not going to give this up (whatever those old guys in suits may say.)

I think that this issue is really about how we regard children in our society. A wanted and planned for child is so much more likely to prosper and grow. And then lots of families who cannot support all these children are desperate. The programs for kids are always the first to be cut, the first to be strangled out of existence.

These folks who see the contraception and abortion issues as "immoral" do not then look ahead to what kinds of support we should give to kids! No contraception, no abortion, and you have many kids who have no safety net. What are those guys thinking??

And then, of course, there is the issue of personal privacy and choice. Why are these old guys in suits (Mitch McConnell etc.) telling us women we should not have a choice in the most important biological aspect of our lives? I, for one, refuse to vote for anyone who for cynical political reasons would rescind my hard won opportunity of choice about kids.

Conservatism used to be a philosophy, and a decent one. I am distressed that now it seems to be about mean spiritedness; children are just pawns and drek in the political process.

Enough of this screed. I am off to the hot tub.

Baby Blankets

No question about it, I am good with my hands. I can sew, throw a decent pot, fix things, grow things, and I have made too many quilts to count. But for every grandchild I try to knit or crochet something (because this is what a grandma does?).
I am a terrible knitter! I have never properly learned how to do it. The only thing I ever knitted was a sweater for my husband, and it was the only thing that thieves did not take from our parked car. Well, who could blame them?
Now, many years later, I continue to try. My soon to be twin grandchildren are going to have hand knitted blankets from Grandma!
I bought the skeins of polyester yarn, so soft, so washable, so forgiving of mistakes. I think that these small covers might eventually be the "loveys" those kids will tote here and there and finger for a few years. I will embellish them with satin ribbons their small fingers will fondle.
As with all the handmade items in process- the quilts, the grow charts- I think hard about the recipients. For the mostly blue blanket I think of that little boy with the dark hair and brown eyes who will grow up while I can still be a part of his life. For the mostly pink blanket I think of his sister, not a princess, but so capable and smart. I think of their good parents and how lucky they are!
Terrible knitter that I am, still it is important to me to do it. I must confess that these blankets have been a shared experience. Many friends have contributed by knitting a few rows here and there, helped by casting on and off, crocheting the edges.
I know that these odd (but soft!) blankets might not be well received in this age of everything perfect and commercial. And this will be o.k. The point is that I have made these gifts and thought about these new persons and it has been a joyful journey for me as I thought about these children I am anxious to meet in a couple of months.
The very best thing about being in this stage of life is the sheer potential of one's granchildren you love without any strings attached.

News from the Green Swamp

Not a good picture. I took it in the last light of day when we had finished installing the deer fence for the spring garden. But the whole thing is now securely enclosed with the new sturdy fencing buried deep to keep out the armadillos, and with new colorful flags atop the fencing. My husband labored for a couple of days, digging the trenches and horsing around the rolls of heavy wire.

There are still many vegetables left over from the fall garden that didn't freeze a couple of weeks ago. Give it until the end of this month and we will plant the spring garden. I have ordered my 'starts' of many kinds of heirloom tomatoes, and I have the seeds ready to go for everything else. What a gift to have a man do this heavy work!

My brother and his wife have been visiting from California. They love staying in the little house where they spend some time reading and watching the wildlife and my brother, a musician, plays the violin. While working on the fence project I hear the sweet music over the pasture. This brother! How I love him! We are old now, but in so many ways we revert to the kids we were, best friends growing up together. He still twits and teases me in the old familiar ways, and I respond as I always did.

His wife is just the best in-law. I treasure those times once a year when we seamlessly take up from where we were the last time. We hardly ever connect between visits, but that is O.K.

The spring seems to be early this year. Many trees are flowering and I see new growth on just about everything. They are not worried about possible late freezes. I love the intense red of the swamp maples in bloom and the new flush of orange leaves, soon to be blossoms with their intense fragrance. The sand hill cranes are thinking about where to build their nest: they are flapping and dancing and throwing sticks in the air with much shouting. This year we have twin calves.

I hear that our soon-to-be twin grandchildren are doing well. I am working on my handmade gifts for them.

Life is good, economy perking up, politics still fascinating and weird. Hard to imagine in this balmy climate that people are freezing to death in Afganistan.

The Poor are Us!

No photos tonight. You'll have to imagine a crowded waiting room in our local medical clinic. This particular place was the lab center where everyone was there for blood tests and X-rays. I was there for a routine blood test my family practitioner wanted.

I was a walk-in at 9:30, but there was hardly a free chair in this windowless no-nonsence place. You go to the window with your insurance or Medicare card and they match it to the orders from your doctor. Then you wait to be called. Start to finish it takes less than an hour. I was prepared with the newspaper and some bills to be paid and my phone.

Every waiting room one ever inhabits seems to have a huge T.V. with Fox News prominately blasting, and this was no different.

The other people waiting were the usual dreary overweight lot who usually populate such places. Very old folks who were wringing their hands with anxiety, people with canes, youngish folks in tye die and flipflops, bald folks fresh from chemo, the whole range was there. No doubt all of them have an interesting back story to tell.

And then! The Fox news commentator recounted how Romney 'was not focused on the poor'. This room full of various folks erupted! Several people hollered out, "I'm poor!", "I'm poor!". I And then they had a full room discussion about this, kind of like the "peace" at the end of church where everyone embraces each other.

They spoke of having no income and housing was fragile. Fascinating. "I will never vote for him", most said. They recounted stories about how they had to get to the clinic on the bus and how long the journey took. Getting this bloodwork done was not an option, though they were poor. They did not know how they could pay for it (unless they were on Medicare or Medicaid, which about half were.) Romney hasn't a clue. A lot of them had already made the decision not to vote at all. But most of them were sure they were "poor". They did not feel they were in the middle class with some options. They were worried about about the 'safety net', though most seemed to be focused on how to get what they perceived as their fare share. Nothing complicated beyond getting the basics of life. These were not folks thinking about how to help their offspring pay for college or a PhD or law school.

Romney is way outside reality in America. I would love to have him (and tons of other politicians of either stripe) actually visit the school where I volunteer. He would see what "poor" is. He would see that this must be a true focus. These amazing folks cannot be simply dismissed because they can always be caught by a government safety net (that he wants to blast holes in!) These kids are every bit as bright and worthy as those whose parents pay $50,000 per year for their child's school. I will bet that the Romney family sends their kids to Exeter or Choate, never look back. And that's O.K. But, please call a duck a duck.

Most of the people living in poverty are kids! We need to pay attention to them.

Aargh! So much mean spiritness from our politicians, mostly those old guys in suits who are far from the issues of pregnancies unwanted or untimely.

I am over the top. Goodnight!

Lola

At three a.m., everyone's worry spot, I sometimes think about my dog, Lola, who at this point in the night is securely and warmly attached under the covers to the back of my knees.
She's thirteen years old! Our last dog died at fourteen, and I have always regretted that I didn't do more for her!
So, I think about Lola, the very best pet anyone could have. What would life be without her?
When she was a puppy I took her to work with me and the kids in school helped socialize her. They took her out to pee on a regular basis and we walked her around the neighborhood. She slept in the kids' laps and her very soft fur was touched by many small hands.
I have always believed that to get a good dog you have to pay attention and put in a lot of time. This worked out. From the beginning she had her crate, her best home. When I say, "Get packed!" she immediately goes into the crate. After the first two brutal months of training, she has been perfectly house trained and walks like a pro on a leash in town. She comes when called.
We have traveled a lot in Lola's lifetime. She has gone with us on many road trips and by now she is familiar with pet friendly hotels and rest stops between here and North Carolina. (Dogs never forget!) Once we took her on a plane across the continent and she spent the airborn hours in her carrier beneath the seat, never a bark. She is a perfect guest in other people's homes.
Lola is a short haired dog and there isn't much shedding. She is a self groomer and never "icky". Her eyes are clear and everything about her is sharp and smooth. Nothing about her had to be docked or changed. She has those incredibly soft ears and an expressive tail she wags when either of us comes into the house (I am so glad to see you!) Once a month I take her to get her nails clipped. That's it.
Lola has many voices. In the middle of the night she sometimes emerges from the covers and barks (There's a wild animal out there! Let me out and I will protect us all!) So we carry her from our high bed and let her out to bark at the deer or armadillos or raccoons. And after awhile she whines in a tiny voice to come back into our bed.
Lola has her routines, and she keeps us to them. After breakfast she knows that Andy will be reading the papers and she'll be right beside him on the couch, keeping his hip warm. Then, when the sun is just right in the sky, she'll hop down and bark at the door to be let out on the porch for "rays". If the day is quite cool,she'll want to come in again. "Lola, get a life! I am not a doggy doorman!" we say.
After lunch we must lie on the couch and read the New York Times. Lola is ready!
At exactly five o'clock it's dinner time for Lola and she nags Andy for food and her dessert of a marrow bone treat.
After our dinner she knows it's time to watch the news on T.V. so she barks to be lifted up on the couch. She watches me knit. And after a decent amount of time, she barks to go outside and then scampers to the side of our bed to be put up for the night. Her job is to warm the bed for later when her people will arrive.
I think about getting a new 'back-up dog', because I couldn't be without a dog. But then I think about being non-dog when I did not have to make arrangements for when we're away, not going to the vet, not having to worry about another living creature..
We love our pets! I think Lola will be here for some time. We will cheerfully lift this old beloved friend on to the furniture to where she can no longer leap by herself. We will take her on golf cart rides she loves, and when we take walks on the property we'll be prepared to carry her when she's had enough.
I notice that Lola can't manage steps very well and she favors one leg. Nothing wrong with that expressive tail, though.
So I have that three a.m. worry. What would I do without Lola?

The Wedding today

Jarrod and Rebecca are exchanging their wedding vows today on our property in the Green Swamp. They are beautiful young people with everything before them in life. You see here the three year old, Rebecca's son who was certainly a beloved member of the wedding. Rebecca's dad, a cleric, officiated.

I loved this wedding that was just a small and intimate gathering of the immediate family. No fuss, no great expense, but great expectations. Jarrod is the son of our long time friend, Steve, who has been in our life since we built our house here. Steve has painted and constructed so much for us! His work is in every single thing on this ranch. Jarrod grew up to be his dad's helper. The two of them spent hours painting the guest house so it was quite fitting that the wedding would be here.

What weird stuff we do! When the wedding was over and everyone had stepped over the cow pies and repaired to their cars, Andy and I went back to the main house to finish reading the Sunday papers, do some gardening and get on with Sunday afternoon activities. We declined the invitation to go to the reception at the Pearl in the Grove.

There were some Martha Stewart moments for me when I wanted to take flowers to the room where the bride dressed. And I wanted to put pink balloons on the gate. (I have been the mom for so many weddings!) But I did not do any of these things.

I gave the groom a handsome check for a wedding gift. And in three hours everyone left for the reception. I am hoping that Jarrod and Rebecca will have one night in a good motel. Soon enough reality will be upon them as they wend their way with a three year old and a newborn child and all of them will be living with Rbecca's parents.

What an amazing life this is! I always look at life half full, certainly for Jarrod and Rebecca.

Science Fair

Here are Abagail and Victoria, fourth graders, in front of Victoria's science fair project. Every so often in my life I stumble upon such excellence it takes my breath away.
Today I spent six hours as a judge in my local elementary school's science fair. There were hundreds of entries and all the judges had official clipboards and many things to check off. The kids' project boards were arrayed in the media center and each project had to be judged by two people.

Daunting. When we judged a project we interviewed the student. We wanted every child to feel proud and successful, yet we all wanted them to be aware of what might be lacking. These were eight to twelve year old students in a school that has more than ninety percent free lunchers. Many of them are new to English and many come from really hard backgrounds.

But on this day they were all nervous. The head of the media center, Michelle, had made sure that every child would have a project to display. She had invited parents to come to the four sessions she presented on how to give help to their kids and what to do.

Of course, some parents gave major help with typing and presentation and helping with the experiments (and, no doubt, a lot of nagging!) Some kids just had to do everything on their own. Michelle made sure that every child had something fairly decent to display.

The preponderance of entries were pretty basic: how much water does a diaper contain? and how far does a rubber band shoot etc. I would say that almost all the kids had no idea what a variable is. One kid listed "Charlie Brown's Christmas" as a reference book.

But, there, shining through the rough weeds were a few spectacular flowers blooming! Victoria had been thinking about Dawn detergent as having been so key in the Gulf of Mexico oil spill clean up. Maybe it cleaned up birds but what did this product do to the worms in the earth? So, this was her project. (Dawn was not so kind to earthworms.) And, she could talk about it!

Abigail wanted to explore what materials would soak up the most oil. So she designed her project with many materials including human hair, cotton etc. Both these original projects were beautifully executed and presented, nothing misspelled, everything complete. They are nine years old. They did this in the best way, by themselves, but with interested support from parents.

There were a few kids who had stellar projects on display without help from parents or a home computer.

I was in my element. These kids need encouragement and vision. To many of them I promised that I would be there to see their next year's project in middle school. I took down names of kids to whom I will send articles and recipes and stuff they can use in extending their investigations. I think that best thing about the day was all the interesting and respectful conversations I had with these kids. (And the hugs!)

This is not your WASP Country Day School; it is one of the poorest schools in Florida, and pretty much everyone is a lovely shade of brown. But, stay tuned. Some of them will be winners of science talent searches. Some of them will rise to the top.

Family Values?

While browsing the internet I came upon a video of an eight year old child belting out hard rock music. I think, what kind of family value is this? What have we come to to think it is cute to put your young child out there in a public swarmy way? Are we confused?
Our GOP candidates are all talking family values these days. No one actually specifies what these may be. Certainly not marriage fidelity and certainly not actually thinking about children who may be hungry or needy. Certainly not thinking about being ethical models for the young persons for whom we are responsible. Certainly not being open to having a gay child or addressing the thorny problems of birth control or abortion or poverty.
What are family values? I believe that every one of us who is not a hermit, knows that families are us. They are messy and never easy, always shifting and so complicated.
As a nation we need to keep talking to each other to refine our beliefs. We know that so many of us who have families are not married, many of us have all kinds of in-laws and out-laws. Children in our families come and go. And yet we are still a tribe.
What are our 'family values'? Do we get these from church? Do we get them from the media?
I believe that family values is being there for your family whatever happens: births, deaths, sickness, joy. It is talking to everyone in your family, being open to all, having fun, loving every member and listening to them. Family values is also about looking outward to the bigger family community of your town and embracing
difference. Family values is about being honest.
Getting back to that little girl put on the internet to belt out rock songs, I believe we have lost our way. She should be allowed a childhood, cuddled and read to, appreciated and fed and loved. Family values.

Seven

You can skip this one if you aren't interested in little kids. But, really, who cannot be beguiled and fascinated with the ever changing nature of the young male?

"Quincy," I announce at breakfast when he is devouring potato pancakes and strawberries, "The house cleaner is coming today and we need to clean up some of this stuff."

As grandparents, we have a different status from parents who are mostly busy with their work and life and driving everywhere for lessons and sports and making dentist appointments and play dates. Here on the ranch life is easy and rich with possibility, especially with this seven year old boy. He's always cheerfully part of the program, up for anything. So of course we make it possible.

Yes, there are standards here!! I pay attention to hygiene in my way. He has to wash hands before meals, brush his teeth at night, bathing and hairwashing are negotiable and he can wear bedroom slippers in the yard. Don't read this, Mom.

From the moment he comes (for weekends or longer) our house and yard and barn become instantly littered with his projects. Bottom line is that he must make a passageway through the toys from the top of the steps through the playroom to his room. Stepping in those legos in the dark as I go to check on him before I go to bed will surely cripple me.

Our bargain this morning is that he will clean up the playroom, put the thousands of Legos on a large tray, the trains in their baskets, the hot wheels extravaganza where I do not have to see them. The play room will be in shape for vacuuming, and his room will not be touched. And then I discover that the hall closet downstairs (with a secret door to it) has been occupied. In addition to the vacuum cleaner, old holiday decorations and a water heater, there are tiny incursions from this seven-year-old. A Lego construction, a camping lantern, office supplies and tiny plastic people.

As I make my morning rounds around the house and yard I find many small indications that a creative seven year old has been here. The coffee tables have his books and stickers and always some stray Legos. Playmobile parts, camoflaged on the carpets, lie in wait to maim me. The yard has lumps of pine needles gathered for some imaginative play, and a small tent set up the day before by grandpa. The zipper on the tent is stuck. In the days when I was a Mom of small boys, I went through the house every night and shoved everything into a bin.

I forgot how much fixing and tending is required. Now, I can patiently fix the stuck zipper or glue the tiny broken part, squinting through my reading glasses. When we flew kites in the field today, I spent most of the time untangling kite line. Grandpa showed Quincy how to play out the line and we all ran around avoiding the kite eating trees. We were patient as Quincy kept hanging up on palm fronds and cow pies. He told me how fun it was for him. "But hard!" Eventually, all three kites were beautifully in the air.

And, as I had forgotten, there is the constant problem of finding things! So we look for his beloved action figure, or some tiny Lego thing, or his shoes..

Seven year olds are so talkative! Every second there is a question or a comment or opinion. As we see the newspaper at breakfast time I read some stories out loud and we all talk about them. The story about the ship that sank off Italy was pretty interesting.

Quincy is raring to go to be a competent person. After meals he helps in the kitchen by clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, putting in the detergent and turning the machine on. He lights the candles for dinner and carefully snuffs them out after.

This little guy has such charming politeness, one wants to accommodate him. When he is here we love it so much but it does mean that we are always "ON".

You raise your own children, rejoice in having grandchildren. We have six grandchildren and some of them have spent major time here. Other grandparents have been major players in the life of these kids. This is what that 'village' is.

Finally getting it

I admit that I am a political junkie. I love this season of political jiggliness and comedy when anything can happen, and usually does. I hate the Supreme Court decision that now allows unconscionable amounts of money to pour into campaigns. But it does have the effect of changing all the rules, allowing marginal candidates to hang on way past their fifteen minutes of fame. Just wait long enough and every single tidbit of 'baggage' will be examined. Even Romney's trip to Canada with the dog strapped to the roof.

My neighbors in this small southern town,whom I respect, are the canaries in the coal mine, so I keep a sharp ear out for what they are thinking. I know they have a great sense of self interest, fairness, and frugality. This translates into 1. Don't touch my entitlements, 2. I got where I am through my own hard efforts and others should do the same, and 3. Somewhere, I forgot where, we were told to spend less. (They also want to shoot guns.)But the main thing about doing away with an Obama presidency is that he's not "one of us". This is not exactly racism, yet it is. These folks may be Christian but that is not quite it. (Obama is Christian!)They are afraid and they do not know who the enemy is and it must be somebody who is not one of us.

Some of my neighbors have children who are openly gay, and none of my neighbors have vast numbers of children, so I must conclude that homosexuality and birth control, even abortion, are not important issues to them. But they are all either getting older or are retirees and depend on Social Security and Medicare.They worry about unemployment for themselves and their kids. They rely on unemployment checks.

So why might they support a GOP candidate who wants to shrink entitlements and continue to give such generous tax breaks to the one percent? Economics is a hard topic to understand and if all you get is Fox soundbites affirming "free enterprise", where do you come out? Especially, where do you come out if you are not a "one issue" voter who will vote for the candidate who has your issue at his back?

After crossing off the candidates who might reduce your entitlements,you go for voting for the least offensive candidate who is trying to vote out Obama (who is not one of us). By this time you are so confused by the issues as laid out by the many candidates you are picking your choice by his clothing or personal warmth or even the family dog (who did or did not go to Canada strapped to the roof of the car!)

So, it's just the beginning. Enjoy the ride.

Life is sweet!

Here is Quincy, seriously regarding the making of the cane syrup at the Pioneer Florida Museum today. It was a day for the old geezers out in full force in a chilly Florida morning. He had already ridden the mule, Molly, who walked around the circle powering up the squeezing of the sugar cane stalks. (Later, as we kissed good night he told me that this was the best thing about today.)

We toured the village and rode the kumquat barrel train and inspected everything, including the gift shop which deserved such attention before deciding on what trinket to purchase. We looked at the menu for lunch there and decided that home for lunch was best.

This age, a young seven, is so amazing! I look back on my own kids and regret that I did not appreciate them so much for this transforming age. I was too crazed being a working mom and trying to be all things to everyone. Little league, swim team, soccer, my work, a fascinating spouse, the spark of our home.

So, now, I have the ease and time to be a wonderful grandma to this beautiful boy I have known since his birth when he was a tiny tune lying on my belly breathing in and out like magic.

He has spent time with us since he finished breastfeeding, so we know about diapers and intercoms at night, lugging him around, potty training etc. Voila! He's now seven and sensible and independent. Dinners have really good conversations and many questions. And after dinner Quincy pitches in to clean up the kitchen, loads the dishwasher and dries the salad bowl.

Then he goes upstairs to take a bath and get ready for bed. Though he is a competent reader now, he loves the time when I read outloud to him and he cuddles against me.

No doubt, I am getting old. But not too old to be an important person in this child's life.

I would love to have my other young grandchildren in my life, but they live far away and don't know us very much. The older three grandchildren have been in our life forever. Such a pleasure!

And now, we are to have twins in the family! Life goes on, life is sweet, and I know from this Quincy grandson, one must just have to take the sweetness as it lands on you.

Better than I would have thought!

Well, I am now in love with that little iphone (with Siri). I spent some of the day experimenting and exploring this technology. I applaud Steve Jobs many times over. I started out my digital life with Apple computers and then, when so much was really NOT Apple, I switched to microsoft, and was frugal ever since. I am used to my Dells with all the quirks and difficulties, crashes, strange little computer issues.

But, today! What ease, what joy with that iphone! There is no inch thick manual in that sleek box it came in. No directions! It just goes. (I must confess that my daughter did the set-up for me and she uploaded all my contacts, music, hiccups, whatever from the "other" phone and my computer.)  But, everything works. I went out in the pasture by the pond and made several calls and had perfect reception! I love the camera, I love the app that tells me what bird is that? I love my camera- and the wonderful editing possibilities.?

Suddenly, those twitter folks and the Face book folks seem more in the front. But what do I want or need to say the most authentic? Is anyone really interested in the birds I see or my digestion??

So, this evening, as usual, I will go out and enjoy the bats flying. My iphone will be on charge, and I will be a free woman.

I have had a very fun day all by myself exploring my new toy, but I really do think that actual face to face communication is still the best.

Grandma in the digital world

I am the exact same age as Jane Fonda and Joan Baez. Jane, Joan and Molly- you can know our age cohort by our names. They could as well be Carol, Virginia, Kathy or Marie or Betty. Our grand daughters are Sheniqua, Beyonce, Taylor and Ashley.

You could tell our digital knowhow by our names! Today I received in the mail my new iphone. I was looking forward to having Siri as my personal assistant. So cool, this pristrine white phone. All potential.

But no, I am mired in the never never land of retrieving passwords that do or do not exist. So far away is Siri, not to be accessed by me (without some password I cannot retrieve)

I need the next generation to help me in this. When I was in the phone store the future seemed so easy. All you have to do is.. But there are the complicated internet issues. So I will take my laptop and phone to my daughter Elizabeth, not Ashley, and she will walk me through the set-up.

Today I went on a field trip with the garden club to visit a hydroponic fish and vegetable farm. I am one of the youngest members of this group of very old ladies and gents. They are so slow. We move as a group of folks with walkers and canes, some very fat and immobile, others as very old folks needing to check everything twice and more. I love these guys, make no mistake. They all have interesting stories to tell and they have such gardening knowledge! They love these field trips, a highlight of their lives. I am humbled by their game face when I know that so many of them are really hurting as they manage their walkers uphill and down.

They pay no attention to this and ask many questions of our tour guide and volunteer interesting information. No cell phones or messaging alerts sounded while we were on this tour.

Quite different from being with younger folks who are always fingering the cell phones, looking up stuff, sending texts.

I wonder how this new connectivity will play out. Here are these folks of great age I was with today. Most of them do not even email (so I will have to send them regular mail notification of the next garden club meeting at my house next month). They worry about how they will find my house (GPS? Google Maps?) No way. They want a hand drawn map of how to get here. And of course, I'll do it.

So, I am betwixt and between these worlds. I am still fearless, but clueless none the less. I need Sheniqua!

Goodbye Garden

All the orchids have been removed from the pool enclosure and will now winter on the kitchen sideboard. They all have buds or blooms and it is such a pleasure to have them there to watch as their incredible delicate blossoms emerge and then stay beautiful for weeks.

We are expecting freezing weather for the next few days so I have been in a pre- mourning mode for all the stuff that can't be covered and will be lost or frozen to the ground. I know that acrid odor of burst plant cells the morning after a freeze. And I know I will deal with it as I always have. (Order the seeds and plant starts from the wonderful catalogs.)

The vegetable garden that has been so generous this fall and winter to us and all our friends will suffer losses. (Collards survive anything!) I will cover the lettuce beds and the mizuma patch. We have eaten or given away everything we could. The tomatoes, still green, but large, have been picked. The potatoes have an extra layer of mulch hay. Herbs will get a covering of all those old sheets I keep for the purpose.

Growing a vegetable garden is my meditation thing. It's a thing of wonder to me that the earth can provide if I help it along a bit. I love the sheer exuberance of the swirl of collard plants. I love the colors of the beets and onions growing side by side. I love the companionship of my grandson in the garden. He eats anything- lettuce leaves, snowpeas, cherry tomatoes. And so, every year about this time I am prepared to miss an old friend I counted on every evening for the dinner table.

Oh, no! I see another hound dog, lost from hunting, approaching our house. This is also a part of winter, and hunting season. We cut firewood today, and we'll all need it.

Off to rescue that dog.


Happy New Year

Here is the magnificent and traditional red snapper, stuffed with crab and shrimp. We were neighbors enjoying this New Year's Eve feast that included the fish and a huge green salad from the garden, my husband's bread,  Peter's barbequed ribs, black eye peas, apples and onions, rice pilaf. For dessert we had Anne's famous chocolate pecan pie, Virginia's carefully sectioned oranges from her tree, Vivian's lemon pudding. Everything was perfect and afterwards we finally stood up and repaired to the living room. Of course the old folks couldn't possibly stay up beyond midnight to wave sparklers!

 

Thinking about the New Year

A few years ago at New Year's Eve we had several teenagers around our dinner table and we asked them what they saw in their five year future. Their answers were very interesting and thoughtful and we spent the rest of the evening discussing them.

Five years is such a long and short time these days. Tomorrow evening we'll have ten adults around our table. We are old friends (and we are old!). What I want to ask them to say is 'what was the best celebration of your life that encapsulated moment in time you'll always remember?'

I have many such moments and I will pick one to begin.

Maybe in the future I will say that this holiday week was one. My daughter and her seven year old son, my son and his three boys, and his wife, pregnant with twins, a nephew, my daughter's partner, many friends - all were there to celebrate. I had a certain amount of trepedation about this week, but as it played out, it was incredibly great. We did everything traditional that all the kids remember about our expansive life on the ranch. Great food cooked by the whole tribe, truck rides to pick oranges to feed the cows, card games, art, lots of legos, night hikes with flashlights to see alligator eyes and spider eyes, noses in books, outdoor play, picking pea pods off the vine in the garden, hikes, the puzzle, many connections to technology, pets, bonfire, getting golf cart and truck stuck in a pond and having to be pulled out by the tractor.

They all left this morning so we spent some hours restoring our house and the guest house to normalcy. They are all good- no major mess to clean up, but there were nine loads of laundry which takes time. And then new guests arrive! But these ones are our most low maintenance ones.

I feel so blessed to have this amazing family! "Grandma Molly!" I hear them calling me and I respond. We love each other so much. "Grandma Molly, I have a question," Quincy asks. "Why are coal plants bad?" This seven year old and I am walking theough the woods with his grandpa and uncle and we are a few steps behind the men. I try to answer as best I can. (How does this kid even know about coal to generate electricity?) This little guy is full of questions. We talk companionably during the five mile walk (he never whines or complains, just is interested in everything)

And hours later I speak with his older cousins as they are making a movie. So much interesting and creative stuff going on here. Surely this will be a visit to remember.

The last night G'ma Molly found in her magic drawer some boxes of sparklers and so the two smallest cousins lighted them and zoomed around the yard feeling powerfully full of lights.

I love this diverse life of thick family and then just the two of us who talk our headfs off with each other.

Who knows what the future will bring?  We just have to address this bird by bird.

Happy New Year!

All Happy Families are..

The Holidays! So here it is, the grandfather and grandson preparing a wonderful dinner for ten. They made stuffed pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, carrots from the garden, bread made by a son, asparagus and lettuce salad fresh picked a few minutes ago. The smallest boys set the table and lighted the candles.

It has been a wonderful day in the glorious crisp weather with everyone being outside. The two youngest grandsons made an obstacle course we all had to run through. Then, more guests arrived and the three small boys were allowed to set off in the golf cart. Eleven, eight and seven (I had my reservations about this!) Half an hour later three small boys came running back to announce that the golf cart was stuck! So older brothers went out in the truck to investigate. The golf cart had been driven into a pond and was mired in the mud. And then the truck was stuck. So the tractor was needed to pull everyone out. No damage to humans or machines, a great adventure. Meanwhile there was a bonfire going to burn a pile of wood scraps and the flames were pretty high.

We contained the bonfire and the vehicles were all back and cleaned from the mud so everyone jumped into the truck and we went out to see Quincy's Museum on the far edge of the property. Since yesterday there were a few new additions to the museum - a new cow skull and an extremely dead armadillo, complete except for the buzzards. The boys were so delighted with all the dead stuff and bones in the museum. The adults in the party had one sniff of it and were out of there. This museum is a very ancient small cabin that was once occupied by a dentist at the turn of the last century. In its new iteration as a museum of bones and fossils this cabin takes on a new life.

Then we all picked oranges from the sour orange trees, cut them in half and drove in search of the cows who love oranges. The kids love throwing fruit to the cows who drool extravagantly as they eat. Such a satisfactory afternoon all told.

I love this wild family of mine. I love seeing the little boys hunkered down over their new Christmas books and Legos. I love coming upon the older ones late at night intent on making an art film that involves many items laid out upon the hearth. I love seeing my radiantly pregnant with twins daughter-in-law who amazes me with her beauty and competence. I love my son and daughter who are the parents of such great kids. I love being connected to a large family and many friends.

For now, we hang on to being the parents/grandparents who always have been there. So far we have energy and health, but I know that this time of life is fragile and I celebrate every moment. 

Holiday Guilt

It's that time of the year. Knee jerk reaction to the holiday season. And am I ever into it! I have collected the last batteries for that toy that doesn't have batteries included. I have wrapped almost everything. My local family will have many stocking gifts, and a few interesting books and things. For those few family members who are opaque to me and far away giftwise, I am giving Heifer swarms of bees. I have sent off citrus gifts to people in cold climates, and I have sent off bales of stuff from llbean- the ubiquitous shirts and robes.

Today I went to Walmart to buy small things. Suddenly, I found myself stunned to immobility in the middle of an aisle of queen sized underpants. Have I arrived somehow on an alien planet? How can this be happening? I am looking for gift cards for Starbucks! Extremely large people in scooters are nipping at my ankles so I quickly dodge left and right and move on to the gift wrap department that is featuring Xtreme heroes on gift boxes. I think about those tatoos, also featured, and decide against it.

I have done The Holidays for so many eons, and now it's uphill work all the way. We do not have a Christmas tree this year, just a wreath. But I always have that mental list of what is expected!

We give holiday bonuses to the pool guy, the house cleaner, the newspaper deliverer - and then, who else?? Are we missing anyone?? What about the person who cuts our hair? The dog's toenails? The mailperson?

We have spent one wonderful and arduous day making several kinds of rich cookies and jams to give away. And, guilt, we didn't make enough! Not enough cookies and jam for every neighbor and everyone where we volunteer!

And, also, I must confess I never send out Christmas cards!
But! I have lists! Christmas is still a few days away and I will call or email those folks who are on my mind and tell them that I am thinking of them, happy holidays, and yes, the coyotes are howling out there every night.

I love the holidays, make no mistake. I am so looking forward to seeing my three grandsons from up north. And I am so looking forward to seeing my middle son and his wife that I love who is pregnant with twins. I am excited to be in the midst of a family holiday with two of my children and their kids.

The expectations are not high in the way of material things. We'll rejoice in the coming together of our family.

Hunter Shot in the Leg by Dog

NOT! (Maybe not exactly..) This wasn't a funny story about a hunting dog removing the gun safety and then pressing the trigger, whatever bloggers and such may say. It was a tragic hunting accident. A lively dog was shunting back and forth between the front and back seats. It was eager for this early morning hunt. There was a gun there and the safety may or may not have been on. Somehow in the activity a shot was fired in the cab, shooting Mr. Brown in the thigh.
 My friends and neighbors who were there were devastated. But they also had the presence of mind to quickly call 911, staunch the blood as best they could, get the victim to the gate where the ambulance awaited.
My neighbor told me it was like a war incident. So much blood and meat and so much to be done in split seconds.
Mr. Brown is a community icon, beloved by all. As the head of our local power coop, he has done so much philanthropically for the poorest among us. And yet, he's a regular East Pasco guy who goes hunting on an early weekend morning with good friends he treasures.
We all are beaming good wishes for Billy Brown's recovery. "He's a tough old bird", one of his employees said.
His hunting companions will be forever changed by this. They took Mr. Brown's pickup and cleaned it carefully and thoroughly. Love, really.

My Florida Home

This is a painting I have been working on lately. I am not a painter; mostly I work in fabrics as an idiosyncratic quilter. But I wanted to make some sort of record of the buildings on this place - beyond cypress swamps and vegetable gardens.

Beginning with a vision of the main house on a four by five foot canvass, not stretched or sized, I had to run out of my studio and up the road every so often to check how this house looks. No photographs. It began to tell me what to do. Yes, lay down some basic paint, remember the bones of that cracker architecture. For no particular reason I picked the last of the giant orange cosmos blossoms and dried them flat under heavy books.

It became clear to me that I would include night and day and every season. So there are fireflies and oranges, butterflies and blooming crape myrtle, sunshine and moonlight. And so why not a lovely alligator, (a photo I took), cows on the lawn,(fabric) and a huge barred owl (a photo from Audubon magazine)? Around this time I began adding fabric pieces here and there. I tried glueing on some Spanish moss - not successful. But the cosmos blossoms were dry and still bright and easily glued to the trees. Milkweed fluff worked well, though it stuck to my hands for hours and I felt like a cocker spaniel.

My workspace has bins of 'stuff' I collect (because who knows when it will find a purpose?) and some of this found a home on the canvass.

And I kept on painting. One night I spoke with my grandson in college. He was excited to show me in a text the art work he had just completed and hung in a hallway. We discussed materials, glues, the creative process and celebrated each other. He told me about the possibilities in bubble wrap!  Which is perfect for moonbeams, though tricky to securely glue down.

So, this is a work in progress and maybe the harbinger of a new art form for me. I am thinking of incorporating some words into this painting, perhaps Emily Dickinson..
We have a dead satellite receiver on the front lawn (not pictured in my painting) and I am not chopping it down because when my grandson comes for his holiday visit I am hoping that we two can construct a new and wonderful sculpture. I am saving all the bubble wrap from Amazon and the discarded turkey feathers I find in the woods, and maybe one of my birder friends will pass along some owl pellets.



What Do Retirees do all day?

I really have a wonderful life! Here is one of the lettuce beds with something new always coming along, and as in my life, there are always a few weeds and something bolted and ready to be discarded.

When we first retired we flopped around as everyone does. We learned that this place in the Green Swamp that we had been going to for years of too short weekends really takes a lot of maintenance. Pastures have to be mowed several times a year, fences need constant attention, gardens have to be tended, the pool deck and the orchids have to be cleaned and watered. The studios and other buildings need attention and maintenance. All that stuff. In the house there is the usual cleaning and upgrading. We constantly throw away, give away and pare down on the things.

We had to figure out what we wanted to do in our community, and we tried many things before we got our groove. (And the groove can change.) And now we have our routine.

Each morning we get up at dawn, throw the dog out of the bed, and start the day. I grab a cup of coffee and drive the mile to the mailbox to retrieve the newspapers. Often I stop along the way to look at birds and what other wild life there is to be seen - deer, turkeys, feral hogs, sometimes otters. Sometimes the herd of cows is in the road, and when I get to the mailbox my neighbor's chickens have just been released and they are all over the place.

I get back, feed the dog, start the laundry and empty the compost and check the traps for armadillos. I am looking at this amazing early morning with the mist rising off the pond and the deer grazing at the edge of the far pasture, and in this season, the colors of autumn in the trees.

We generally do our workouts early in the day, takes an hour, then read the St. Pete Times while sitting on the screen porch. I save the NYT for my "nap" after lunch. Many days I am off to this and that of volunteer activities, Garden Club etc. I spend many hours each day in my studio where I make quilts, pots, and paint. I check the e-mail, attend to business, call friends. Each day I spend a lot of time tending to the gardens.

In the evening around six I go up to the main house for dinner. I will already have picked the daily vegetables and presented them to the cook, but I am always surprised with what's for dinner. We eat by candle light, flowers on the table and good conversation.

I know what most folks do who are working because I did it for forty years! Retirees have to invent a new life and this is pretty interesting.

So, now, off to do a hot tub under the stars. It's a pretty good life..

Kids slurping it up

I always love that hour and a half I spend each week with those eight kids who come to me for math enrichment. By now I am getting to know them as individuals with their own special approaches to the work we are doing. Victoria is the one who just knows that if a problem doesn't check she has to go back and do the work over because maybe she wrote it down wrong in the first place. Natalie keeps everyone on track because she never hesitates to let me know that there was something she maybe didn't get really fixed in her mind. I am trying so hard to let these kids know that this math, this algebra program is beautiful and fun and you need to focus. You need to collaborate. Timarya is so bright and swift she sees the answer immediately but resists doing the checks. I am on her case and make her go back and check her answers. Usually she works with Aaron and Rubin and the three of them work together like lightning.
I tell them that each of them is unique and have different skills and aptitudes. They know I think they are all brilliant (which they are!) I want them to focus and work hard. Chloe sometimes thinks she 'doesn't get it', but I hold back a minute and then she does. Clayton has been absent for two classes and he will catch up. What he is really interested in is the pig (or calf?) he's raising for the county fair and we discuss this quite a bit.
Abigail, Abigail! Here's this quiet beautiful child who just sets out each class day with me, full interest and determination. She gets to work immediately and is totally on task and ahead of the others by a page or two. Often I ask her to help another student, and when I revisit that part of the table, she's explained whatever was opaque to her tablemates.
I am beginning to know the back stories of these kids. There are three Hispanics, two African Americans, and the others are two kids of teachers in this school and one other. A good mix. What is clear to me is that all these kids are well cared for. Physically, they are very handsome. They are quite trim, lovely white teeth, shiny hair.
If we have any time at the end of class we play a game, usually some kind of charades. They all love this. They want me to come and eat lunch in the cafeteria with them. I did this last week, but today I had to load up the clay pieces from Family Clay Night last Wednesday so I can fire them in my kiln. The kids were eager to help me load everything in my car.
The time I spend there goes by so fast! I wish it could be longer. I am thinking that maybe if I regularly ate lunch with them I could read a good book outloud to them. I fantasize that I could take them on a trip to Washington, D.C. or New York City. What furniture for the mind that would be!
Any ideas you have? Let me know.

I am thinking that I should start reading to them while we eat lunch

The Mayo Clinic Experience

My husband has had a nasty cough for two years, and despite many doctors and tests, nothing improved, so it was decided that something different was needed. He made the appointment at Mayo in Jacksonville. Our posse of our daughter, my husband and I went up there to spend the day trying to get to the bottom of this.
Mayo Clinic is a campus of many large imposing buildings. One enters the place with dread. But, once in the system everything goes fast and smooth. They said they would not waste your time and this was true enough. Hundreds of folks are going through quite quickly. Everyone we dealt with was friendly and efficient, and the main doctor was obviously very smart and able to deal with many aspects of my husband's problems. Never did I feel like he could only see one aspect. His view was wide and inclusive, far from being the blind man and the elephant. He was clear with us and answered our questions. We have to go back for the final tests and consultations, but we came away from this initial visit full of hope and feeling we were in the best hands.
I have little confidence in medicine as it is practiced now. I am always thinking that so many doctors are prescribing tests and medicines that actually feather their own nests. At Mayo the doctors are on salary and do not have their own private practices and centers where they charge huge fees for using their machines.
We will return in a month to finish up. I do not know if there will be a real cure for the cough, but at least for now I can rest a lot easier.
We have Medicare and that covers almost all the expenses. I think of my younger friends who struggle with inadequate or completely lacking insurance. What are we thinking? What is so bad about having every American have access to such as the Mayo Clinic? On Medicare one can do it, but otherwise, get used to the pain and aggravation.

Giving and receiving

Here is one of the kids in my enrichment math class. She's nine years old, smart as they come. She has just figured out a new strategy in Hands On Algebra! "I get this! I get this" she says. All these nine kids need more than they can get in their regular classes, so they come to me once a week for an hour. I feel privileged to be there and trusted (this is a public school!) We meet in an empty room that seems to be a storage place for rogue tables and chairs. This is great, we all know this, and everyone hunkers down for the sheer pleasure of  learning algebra. The hour passes like a whiz. These kids are brown and white and black, girls and boys, and they speak Spanish and English. What they have in common is a strong curiosity  and the desire to learn.

Ninety six percent of the kids in this school are on free lunch. On weekends they do not have enough to eat.

 And here am I preparing a holiday gift list for my very own fortunate family! Scratch that, I think. Who needs fancy gifts from Harry and David? Who needs redundant fleece jackets from LLBean? So, this year, I will spend my holiday money on a field trip for one of the classes at this school. Those field trips are furniture for the mind.

I had meant to write about my amazing vegetable garden and send photos of the huge broccoli and collards, the snow peas and carrots, the turnips and lettuce and even tomatoes. Just imagine it. And come next February when our school garden grant comes through, our school community will be in vegetable production mode as well, feeding some of our families.

In this community there are so many generous people. They care with their hearts and energy and pocketbooks. They humble me.

Being Grandma

Quincy, my youngest grandson, has been here for the long weekend. He was delivered here by friends who are staying the weekend in the guest house. He boiled out of their car, talking a mile a minute and was eager to get here and reconnect with the place he has known since infancy. He calls our place his other home, and of course, it is. He went right to his room, shedding shoes, luggage, stuffed animals and the lunch box from school.

Soon we began to hear the familiar sounds of toys being pulled out and assembled in the upstairs playroom. And then he begins to come down periodically to tell us everything on his mind. I wonder what "unit" he'll be in this visit. Six weeks ago his mom decided that Quincy needed to have more childhood and less screens so now there is no t.v., no video games, no smart phones. No problem!

It is a joy to see his active imagination at work. First of all he got out  the horrid train set with hundreds of opaque pieces that we gave him when he was three (and he was way too young for it). Now, the whole set up is easy for him and all that was needed was a fresh battery, easily installed.

With this boy, just turned seven, life is easy. His tether is long and he easily rides his bike a mile and back to the gate and we don't worry. He drives the golf cart all over the place and gives "tour guide" talks along the way. He took one of the guests out to see his museum he has made over the last year in a remote cabin. He explained the exhibits of bones he has found on the property, and even gave her a guest pass so she could touch the bones. What a little bureaucrat!

And so much else in a weekend! He'd written a book and made a board game. Before a dinner for guests he cleaned up the downstairs of the house, prepared cheese hors d'oeurves, and arrranged for a predinner concert in which he starred playing the violin from the stair landing. (He has no clue about the violin. He takes recorder lessons, but he loves the violin we have here.)

All through the day there are all these interesting and fantastic happenings in his mind. And all through the day he dings me with his thoughts and suggestions.

I love this wonderfully interesting and handsome grandson, so worth the effort of having had him here over and over from the time he was a baby and really hard and picking him up hurt our backs and we never slept well and we never had a moment to call our own.

We used to say that 'quality' time bested 'quantity' time. NOT!

As a grandma talking, I think that the quantity of time I have spent with Quincy is stellar. My oldest grandson, Diego, now in college, has also spent many hours here and with me, and again, that quantity time gives us both such a bedrock of love and attention.

My grandchildren on the west coast are wonderful kids and I am so glad their parents continually send us photos, school work pages, drawings. It kind of keeps us connected between trips out to see them. Two of Diego's brothers visit occasionally and we so love their visits. But it is not the same as quantity and frequency. We send stuff to our grandchildren and often we have no idea if they ever receive them. Barking into a void gets old.

In our society we want our kids to go forth and do what they want. So often this means that they will be far away from parents who will be the grandparents of their children. And it's meant to be! So, whoever the nearest grandparents are, they are it.

But, for now, I am so amazingly happy to really know a few of my grandchildren who can be here, and I always want to keep up the potential connections.

I have a feeling that I may see quite a bit of the upcoming twin grandkids!

This is the name of our mobile society. For our far flung grandchildren I rely on their other grandmas and grandpas to

Now he is that quite capable and responsible seven year old person, a joy to me.

I hate football

I met my husband of fifty years at a football game so I shouldn't hate the sport. He was not on the team but was a member of the band. This was a blind date arranged by one of my college friends. Her brother was in the band also. Then, as is the case now, Ivy League colleges did not take football seriously. As I remember, the Harvard band went out on the field at half time and made a formation of a toilet (Flush Brown). Few people really cared who won.
My husband used to watch football games on t.v. and I would make negative comments and leave the scene. (A blood sport!) We never let our kids participate in football because of the injury risk, and as athetic kids they were into soccer, swimming, sailing, cycling and basketball. In my mother's heart I knew absolutely that I did not want to have my intelligent kids' brains battered by football.
But wait! There is so much more negative about football, especially in colleges. To begin, high school kids are courted for their football skills. They are invited to attend colleges to play football, never mind that they cannot cut the mustard academically. They play for the alma mater, everyone cheers them on, they are paid royally and some of them go on to have rich and puny lives. Many of them are forever damaged by having their heads repeatedly traumatized, and more are devastated by unfulfilled expectations. They don't get a good education.
So, college football (Not to mention national football!) is BIG MONEY, the one percent, cynical about our youth.  Let's not go to any college football games. Give money to the anthropology department. Stop subsidizing brain injuries, stop subsidizing the coaches who make more than a million a year and feel free to rape little kids in the shower stall because they know no one will notice.
Time to stand up for the right thing to do!

Mind furniture- and Grief

Many years ago, at least twelve, my business partner and I decided we wanted to travel to parts unknown. And for many years we went somewhere pristine each year. She had lived in Peru as a child and I had recently traveled there as a spose on a business trip. So we had to go.
Our first trip was to a romote part of Costa Rica - and it was so incredible, hot, miles of hiking through the jungle, swimming in rivers.
The next trip was to Peru, Puerto Maldonado, canoeing up the Madre de Dios River to Tambopata. These were not tour guided trips. Just us, adventuring alone, with one guide. We'd look at each other periodically and breathe, "We're here.." So amazing.
Tambopata might have been the most amazing and magical of all our trips. After many hours of navigating the river we came to the dock of the biological station we had come to visit. There was no sound of anything manmade and we walked up the long trail to the lodge carrying our backpacks, totally in love at first sight with the sounds and sights and smells of everything we had wanted to know for our whole lives.
We spent the next ten days or so in a primitive lodge whose beauty cannot be described. Our room was open to the jungle, we had bed nets to protect us from whatevers. We had never been more perfectly happy.
The scientists living there were pleased to show us their projects from the cultivation of certain plants to the incubation of Macaws. We got up at dawn to hear the howler monkeys and go to the clay licks covered with dozens of parrots. We hiked miles in the rain forest and found tarantulas, tapir tracks, huge snakes, monkeys, so many birds. We saw bioluminescents at night in the forest, we saw many bats. Our minds were thick with new knowledge.
Tonight I heard a report on T.V. that as gold has been discovered in that area, much of the forest has been stripped, Puerto Moldonato is now a gold mining town, Tambopata is no more as we once knew it. I wept.
Our children and grandchildren will not know what it is to be in the Amazon Rain Forest, alone, where there is total silence and even an agnostic can find a sort of belief in seeing a harpy eagle on the nest. They'll never have the chance to feel the total darkness in the Amazon forest at night.  Perhaps they'll have to do with a harpy eagle ap on their phone.
I grieve for the lack of natural habitat that is coming from having such an abundance of people (SEVEN BILLION!)

Frugality

We are frugal. Tonight we had a delicous dinner from the leftover chicken and rice we served to friends last night. Vegetables came from our garden and we ate bread we had made yesterday.
This morning with a chill in the air we were energized to examine the front porch for the first time since the heat of the summer. The metal retro chairs and tables we have had for  years looked quite shabby with peeling paint so we hauled them off to the barn to scrape off the old paint and repaint them with a new coat of forest green. I washed all the old cushions and we found a sort of new flag to  replace the old tattered one flying on the porch.
No trip to Ikea was required. After we hose off the spider poop, the porch will be perfect.
In another iteration of prosperity we would have just ordered new porch furniture and cushions.
We are not particularly fashion conscious because we are always doing dirty work on the ranch. I find that our local Walmart has pretty good everyday clothes: soft and lovely White Stag tee shirts for $4.00. (So, why buy LL Bean's tees for $25?) For $4 a pop I can have many colors of tees and refresh them often. Men's jeans and pajamas are the same. Who needs Brooks Brothers for these things? Frugality!
In the name of frugality we repurpose many things. My spouse cut down a dead orange tree yesterday. Most of it was cut up to be wood for our fireplace. The huge leftover stumps will be moved to the doorway garden as sculptural elements.
Our trimmings from cooking vegetables go into the compost. Our old newspapers become mulch for the vegetable garden. Crap from cleaning out closets go to the library or the consignment shops.
I cannot be so pure as those folks who have no waste. But we try to have a light footprint on the land and on the globe, ever mindful that we consume A LOT.
In our own ways, we need to be frugal because our earth depends on it.

House boat trip

If you ever went to sleep away camp do you remember how it was when you got back home? Everything was bigger than you remembered and you kept on singing "It's a Grand Old Flag"? You couldn't stop thinking about how great camp was? That was exactly how it was about our houseboat trip up the Suwanee River in perfect weather, not a cloud in the sky, the stars at night so thick, fish jumping and no sign of human habitation as far as the eye could see. There were six of us, all good friends, but never had we been in such close company for four days and nights. We naturally fell into the roles of ship's captain, cooks, scientists, springs swimmers, scullery helpers.

 All of us were loungers and close observers of the incredible passing scene of pristine cypress, birds and jumping sturgeon.

No one ever voiced it, but somehow we all seemed to breathe a sigh and stop talking about politics and issues. The last crossword puzzle from the NYT was done before the first dinner, and then we had NO MORE NEWS for four days! None of us noticed.

What we noticed was such stuff as a huge migration of the tiniest insects you could imagine, all flying in an incandescent cloud from the river one misty morning. It could have been a once in a year thing like grunions running. But we wouldn't have noticed it in our regular lives. We examined every blooming flower, every huge alligator, every turtle and snake.

And we noticed each other in ways one never does at a dinner party. All of us were in long term marriages and we all have grown kids. But we did not talk much about our children or grandchildren or health.  It was truly a time for us. We cared for each other with cooking great meals, taking care of this funky houseboat, laughing a lot, and remembering people and places and events. We put together an enormous puzzle, and we even played games. We looked at each other really closely and celebrated our wrinkles and fit muscles. And our friendship.

Kind of depressing to return, making the drive from the boat dock, listening to NPR and the same old stuff.

About time!

Here's an opossum I trapped yesterday in the vegetable garden. We'll take him out to the far side of the ranch where he can be with the dozens of others we relocated.

That expression! He's probably thinking  about Hughesnet, our internet provider. Finally, today, an angel came and brought us a new FAST connection and so I am happy tonight. I have called the phone company each week for years, asking them when we could expect a fast DSL connection. "Not tonight, honey." And last week they informed me that yes! we could do it. I really had no hope and today of the appointment the truck arrived on time, and my hopes sprang anew. But wait! Emerging from the truck is an old guy, hardly an angel, pony tail, beard, suspenders across a paunch, slouched under a straw hat. Not your usual computer geek to say the least. My heart sinks.

But, like Santa, he went right to his work, and soon the main house was on line. I was discouraged to find that the DSL did not work in my studio. We needed another line. I took ten deep breaths and called Bill, the computer person. Later, my husband thought of a solution and when I had found a very long telephone cable, he installed it and now everything works in my studio and in the main house.

If you live in the boonies as we do, it is important to have connections to the world. At first we just had dial-up, not much. Then we got the satellite, the best that rural folks can get. It was often so slow, and no chance of downloading anything.

So, now! Off and running, looking at all that stuff that was previously unavailable. I have always said that no connectivity was just the flipside of living in paradise. Dare I think that we can have it all?

The garden appreciated a little rain before the cold front moved in. Broccoli is heading and the greens are there for every meal. I cut some collard leaves for the soup I'll take on our upcoming house boat trip up the Suwanee River on Saturday.

Strength and love to all the occupiers! And today we got autumn. Quilts tonight!

The Demonstrations!

In the last couple of years I have asked any young people who come my way if they are interested in the politics of this nation. I was pretty much disheartened that so many of them seemed passive and uninterested. What they are interested in is celebrities and their own studies. They have told me that, yes, there are few people on their campuses and at work who join groups and advocate for various discreet causes. In individual ways many of them strive to make a difference. They volunteer in difficult places with difficult populations. They work hard in wonderful non-profits as unpaid interns.

I wonder whether these talented and thoughtful young people feel powerless, or feel they have no voice, or even whether this generation of almost-my-grandchildren has been too entitled for too long and believe that somehow everything will come out just fine. What would it take to make them stand up on their hind legs in their own country to make a difference here?

Maybe, just maybe, something has finally happened. Perhaps the tipping point came when so many realized that they had such huge loan burdens and no prospects of making enough to pay them off - or even getting a decent job. And Mom and Dad have lost their jobs.  They look up and see that a few make millions, neither fair nor ethical. It's the economy, of course. There was the model of the Arab Spring. Heady stuff to be in the middle of a huge demonstration with even something worth fighting for. The American Dream.

These demonstrations sweep the country. Many of the demonstrators are not young, not scruffy, just desperate, all colors, all ages.  It's hard to discern exactly what the demands are, and so far no real leaders have emerged as they did in the seventies. Early times. As far as I know there are not huge corporate funds supporting this, as they did the tea party.

I wish them well, I salute their strength, I respect them and I pay close attention. I agree with them and share their dissatisfaction.

We so badly need to have all parts of our population pay attention. These demonstrators fill a political void. After all, it matters what happens! We can't be just a nation of elderly folks wanting to preserve their social security and medicare (though that's important.)  And we can't be stuck endlessly dithering about outworn social issues such as gay marriage and abstinence and flag desecration. We need to pay careful attention to the new cohort of young people who have a huge new agenda and have long since leaped ahead of their parents' generation.