News Junkie: Befuddled

In past times I loved these conventions! Think of seeing those outrageous delegations from various states and territories and you were tallying up the number of votes. Exciting!

No more. Everything is scripted, made for T.V., lies, slick, and nothing an ordinary person could really think about and consider. So, no wonder folks just want to tune into some reality show (that is more real than this convention.)

Does anyone really and truly look at the platform? Do people in America really want to be so noninclusive (as this Rebublican platform lays out?) Actually, I do not think we even think about these issues anymore. What's important is how "Loveable" our candidates are. So, Obama is really likeable with his great family and the dog (who never was strapped to the roof of the car). Romney is stiff and rich. Who should care if he has good ideas?

And folks do not really attend to the substantive issues! Can you stand a candidate who signs onto total abortion? Can you stand a candidate who has little investment in environmental issues? Can you stand a candidate who stands for a restrictive and noninclusive immigration program?

Are the economic issues paramount? Do folks really think that it is right and just for the enormously rich to continue to inflate their coffers?

But, what I really think is that this election is about race.

This election can be bought, and maybe it will be. We, in Florida, now see what happened when the governor's election was bought.

The next convention will probably be as t.v.oriented, scripted, over the top, and filled with lies. And, again, no real person could get a grip on what is true and what issues are up there for consideration.

So, I am thinking how magnificent it is to see the gentle rise of our river, the new fawn, and the hundreds of butterflies on the red sage. And I am looking forward to having my grandson, Quincy, here for the long weekend.

After the Rain

We kind of thought there would be a hurricane but we didn't do anything to prepare since the Cone Of Uncertainty was so uncertain. I thought about taking in my favorite orchid which is about to bloom. I thought about taking in the porch furniture.

But what I did was complete the quilt for Quincy. I hunkered down in my studio, watched the rain, and sewed like crazy. This is not one of my all-time favorites. It's a strong quilt for a kid- vibrant colors, simple construction. The top is complete and now I must take it and the batting and backing to the long arm sewing machine lady and she and I will decide what design we'll have.

Amazing stuff during this wild, windy and uncertain weather! The river is rising and rafts of duckweed tumble under the bridge. I have never seen so may deer and turkeys grazing in the pastures. I have noticed that cows lie down in inclement weather.(Yes, they do have a plan!)

I must say that my soul and heart is so filled with the vision of life here in the swamp, it presses eternity.

Tomorrow, if the rains abate, I'll be out in the vegetable garden topping off the planters and maybe planting a few rows of arugula.

So, is Charlie Crist the new Bill Young: what ever party you are from, Bill will help you!

The NYT in the lead editorial today probably said it all (though they missed the iniquities of emigration.) I believe that if any one of these Rebublicans could have the chance to speak with a pregnant fourteen year old girl from a gritty background, or a gifted Mexican illegal boy whose chances at a shot to get educated are nil, or a middle class high school graduate who faces such extreme debt to go to college, or a woman with five kids already who seeks abortion, or a person who doesn't have enough food to feed the family, or a veteran who can't get a job, they might change their minds. It goes on and on.

How mean spirited can they be? So, I finish the quilt for this beloved grandson, and I am thinking all the while that this next generation will be inclusive, generous and thoughtful about making an America that works for everybody.

Getting Old- But Then What?

This evening when Andy and I were finishing dinner, on the eve of our fifty-second wedding anniversary, and we were eating the ends of a wonderful plain supper he cooked, we looked in each other's eyes and spoke of some of the things that have made our marriage successful, and also of some of those things we regret.

There will not be anniversary gifts for each other. We have every thing we want. We appreciate that each of us has been willing to change with the times. We appreciate the necessity of facing the reality of growing old together.

Thankfully, we are healthy and still full of energy. But there are moments when we rage, rage against the coming of the night..

One of the things I know of is this rage against getting old. For some, it is  non-specific anger, lashing out at loved ones. For others it is despair, knowing that you are invisible when once you were king or queen.

In the newspaper today there was a story about a woman my age who made crocheted pillows for the Bucs - and has done this for thirty years! She is to be pitied, in a wheel chair, and never had the chance to actually SEE a Bucs game because she could not afford a ticket!

I know that getting old is such a bitch: even those new buff muscles of mine are covered by the wrinkled skin. You have to figure out just how cantankerous and weird you want to be!

So important to have friends of many ages - even the little kids who pluck your elbow skin because they are interested in everything!

Fifty-two years into a marriage with a guy who is so interesting it takes my breath away!

Happy Anniversary to us!

The Wedding

Here are the members of the wedding: Quincy, Carissa and Elizabeth. Elizabeth and Carissa were married in a lovely Vermont setting (Quincy was bestest man) last weekend, attended by immediate family.

The hills were decorated with goldenrod and purple loostrife and queen anne's lace. And the immediate scene was decorated with our eight grandchildren and their parents. And now we have another wonderful daughter-in-law!

We are so blessed with this enormous family! We spent a lot of quality time in an old ski lodge just lying about with the twins and the other kids who played outside in the cool Vermont evening catching caterpillars and running around with sparklers and wading in the stream. I loved it.

It was a wonderful family reunion, the first time we had been together with all our children, their spouses, and their kids, and Maria and Jay, everyone's adopted kin. We stayed in a big ski lodge, kind of funky but a lot of fun with many feasts and lots of skin, so many children, including the new twins.

We took Quincy, son of the bride, for a road trip to Maine to see my oldest best friend in Belfast and it was wonderful! Seven years old is a great age to be. Quincy fell in love with Juliet, my friend, and says he is going to live there.

While in Maine my email got hacked and his moms took the trouble to fix everything on my computer. (No, we are not in trouble in London!)

Now, we are all back home. And life tumbles on. Ten girl scouts are at this moment swimming in the pool and then they will go up to the little house to do girl scout things and spend the night. And I will have to think about the one girl scout who is missing because she is homeless and her mother is dying of ovarian cancer in St. Petersburg. And I can't think of what I can do! Where is our safety net?

In my studio, alone for the first time in many days, I begin the lovely process of laying out the fabrics for a new quilt for Quincy.

Rainy Season - still!

You have to imagine how deep and dark the edge of the woods seem now in the over lush days of early August. Looks like jungle here in the Green Swamp of central Florida. Often, pasted on this scene, are several deer feeding at the margin between pasture and forest. Underfoot are thousands of spade foot toads who have not made an appearance in four years. But this year we have truly had a great rainy season and all those toads procreated and are now underfoot everywhere.

At the end of the afternoon there is the tumult of thunder and lightning and several inches of hard rain falls.

Mornings before seven I drive the mile or so up to our mailbox to pick up the morning papers, and this is such a good part of the day! Driving very slowly I often see deer, bobcats, so many birds. The Withlacoochee River overflows and sends black waters into the swamp, and then, after a few days, everything reverses and the water flows out of the swamp.

So, I stop at the bridge and note the direction of the flow by how fast the duckweed is floating and I hope to see an otter or an alligator. So many ibises flock to the newly directed waters. Hawks scream above and the pileated woodpeckers are working on the snags. By now I know where certain birds hang out and I listen for them. Yes!

Here come the sand hill cranes getting ready for their day. And in a certain place in the lane I can always see the fox squirrel, and further up, the gopher tortoise burrow with evidence that he (or she) has been up already.

Some days I must stop and shoo away my neighbor's chickens who have congregated in the lane next to the mailbox.

I love living here! There is so much to be discovered: a patch of iron weed, a stretch of passion flowers on a fence, green fly orchids on a tree full of resurrection fern.

And there is the comical. Those hummingbirds who endlessly chase each other around the feeders. There was the armadillo a few mornings ago who appeared next to the screen porch where we were reading the paper. This particular armadillo was wearing a jacket around his middle (so astonishing that I thought I was actually losing my mind!) We looked and the jacket said, "Hot pepper." Seems that this armadillo had gotten into a peat pot surround - and everything fit perfectly. Our little dog went out to bark and chase and eventually nipped that jacket and it tore off.

So, rainy season, heat and all, is just what Florida is the best at. No complaints here. We see the rainbows and take a vacation from politics.
Seventy-two years old and I still feel like I am ten!

The New Housing Bubble?

Fifty years ago I graduated from an Ivy League college, then went on for a master's degree. As I began this education I had no resources except for generous scholarships and the work I did on campus. I was always worried about money - and who had the extra to pay for dentistry?

But, still, when the master's degree was in hand I owed ten thousand dollars. In a federal program I could pay off the loan by working in education, ten percent a year. So, after ten years my loan was paid off and I was free and clear to do what I wanted.

I am very afraid that students now have not nearly this option. They believe they are entitled to attend fancy institutions of higher education that attract them with state of the art fitness centers, world class chefs in the cafeteria, dorm rooms worthy of a high end Marriott. They know that it costs a LOT to go to college and they may as well go full throttle (because everyone knows that having a college degree is the ticket to ride.)

And then the price must be paid, and such a great price! Of course this cohort has been used to the debt scene all their lives. Plastic now, pay later.

What will happen to this new generation of young adults who owe so much they cannot pay attention? Will there be a tipping point at which these supremely prepared people cannot possibly get the jobs that will enable them to pay off their education loans? Seems likely.
Perhaps the culture of hippies will return, "hey, Man.."

Or perhaps we'll try reality in higher education. Pay as you go, think about what you really want to learn from professors, and if you really want to climb rock walls, is college the place for this?

Just asking.

Embarrassed

From everywhere on the polls I seem to hear that my age and ethnicity is incredibly selfish and no-nothing! Hey, we have social security and medicare! And these have made an incredible difference to the security of our lives. And most of us are going to vote conservative. So, why are you opposed to the Affordable Care Act?
I am embarrassed to be a part of my generation that now seems to be so mean and uninclusive. Where is the American spirit of taking care of one another? Where is the generosity? Where is the thirst to be informed?

No taxes! Come on! How do you think the services you need, the libraries, the fire department, the police, roads, the parks you love, and so much more are funded??
If our country is just going to be the "me first" place, I will be so disappointed.
I am very much afraid that this country in ten years will be a country of the very rich and the poor, no middle class to speak of. I see such greed and power among the bankers, big pharma, oil companies and you name it. They can (and have) bought elections.

Pay no attention to these awful destructive political ads. They are mostly lies and so you'll actually have to pay attention. Read the NYTimes and listen to NPR (though this one voice of really balanced news is endangered of having their funding cut).

Enough of that! Tonight it is thick with twilight in the forest, deer shrieking at the margins, hummingbirds bumping each other at the feeders, and bats flying around. We have been busy in our studios. Andy finished a quilt  hanger and I am about to finish a new quilt (having sewed my fingers to the bone!) A load of potting soil arrived in the rain and we hope that tomorrow will be clear in the morning so we can distribute some of it where it needs to be.

Remains..

Here are the remains of the vegetable garden. All the beds have been taken over by huge wildly blooming zinnias, red sage, milkweed, and lots of rank weeds. The butterflies love it. We worked for a couple of hours this morning in the fierce heat and mosquitoes, taking out the unproductive tomato vines and withered broccoli. What's left are the pepper plants and a few eggplants, still producing. Andy broke apart the oldest raised bed that was rotten so now there is space for a new bed for the fall garden. We pulled up most of the weeds and tomorrow we'll put down some newspaper and cover everything with hay mulch. All ready for the fall planting.

This place still amazes and delights me! With rainy season well begun, we don't have to water. We have to quell the biomass, prune and weed. Each day we attack the needs of various garden spots, and having made the rounds of all the gardens, we start again. Coffee cup in hand, I walk around the yard (Ms. Inspector) every morning. I notice that the deer have been helpful in pruning the roses and nipping back the Mexican petunias. New buds in the fish pond that will in a few days be magnificent lily blooms. Squirrels, so far, have not been able to attack the hummingbird feeders with the new baffle we installed to thwart them. Tree frogs are everywhere - so loud!

I am so tired of the nasty political climate. I only listen to classical music while I work on my fabric art. And I think and plan..

Tomorrow is my birthday! And I am not anticipating anything at all to celebrate, which is very good because I have everything I could ever want, especially the love of a good man and life partner, and a wonderful and beautiful life.

On the eve of my birthday (72), here are my watchwords for success: Have good work. Eat good local food. Exercise hard every single day. Love your friends and family. Be generous to your community of friends and family and everyone else. Take care of your teeth. Read stuff. Try new things. Wonder. Create. Love one another.

Happy Bastille Day!

Annals of a fun granny- reading to the kids

For this week we have had three boys, seven, eleven and twelve, visiting us. There have been moments when I wondered where I left my senses. But mostly, it has been wonderful zany fun, and really, no one has had a bad moment. We are not those grandparents who easily go to theme parks and fast food places. So they swam many times a day in our pool, played and played outside, drove the golf cart out to explore the fields and ponds and look for the cattle, explored and dug up many ant lions and fossils, made many lovely clay art works. They found our life here interesting and pitched in with the chores of meals, emptying the compost, filling the hummingbird feeders, feeding the dog. Yes, I have had to do some direction. (Did you hang up your towels and swimsuits? Maybe tonight you should all take showers and wash your hair.)

But I think the most special thing is the reading. Yes, of course all kids come with their digital devices, but while here they left them languishing. No one has been at all interested in turning on the TV. They'd much rather play cards after dinner, and everyone knows that G'ma Molly will read to them. I spent some time selecting what books I would read out loud. For the seven year-old I chose "Danny, the Champion of the World", by Roald Dahl, one of my all time favorites. For the older boys I chose "The Pigman" by Paul Zindel.

This evening, after the card game and copious amounts of chocolate ice cream, I began the nightly ritual of reading out loud to them. Of course, all these kids are excellent readers. Reading to kids is the best! They get a free ride for their brains to imagine every single thing and they get to lie close to a favorite adult who is paying attention only to them.

My little seven year old grandson is very tired after his active day and he is glad to cuddle up and hear this book he loves. When beginning a new book, for whatever age, it is crucial to read enough to get the child really hooked, and for the reader (me!) to read fluently and with expression, maybe even changes in tone and accent. The older boys are just as intrigued and love the flow of the story.

My parents read to me and we read out loud to our own kids way into high school. And these children who are now parents read to their kids every day.

Makes me wonder why most folks won't do this simple and tender thing for their kids and students.

Honestly, What I really Want for my Birthday

Actually, I have everything I would ever need in life. I have the gift of discovering such a magnificent wild flower as this may pop on my way to retrieving the morning paper today, and the view of the rising water under the bridge, and the cacophony of frantic frog calls and an owl flying silently through the swamp trees heavy with rain. I have the love of a good man and the incredible beauty of the place where I live and children and family and grandchildren I love and the wonderful friends who decorate my life.

So, what could I ever want? I certainly have no needs for anything material. (We are always trying to divest ourselves of extra stuff!)

This is what I want: I need some service for my digital life! I want some one or some ones to help me down load, off load, up load sidewise load stuff, get rid of pop-ups, find out how to actually get the fancy HD radio I have to play classical music without cutting out every ten seconds, and a ton of other issues. I want someone (or a robot!) to help me on a lot of tech issues I have. I want (in the best of all possible worlds!) not to have to hold back, just ask.

For some reason this blog entry went haywire and it took me three minutes to recover it. Why does this happen?? Maybe no one knows why these gremlins spring up.  I have friends and family who just have opted out of all these issues, My sister doesn't  have a smart phone!

But I am not willing to give up on this. I love being connected, I love Facebook and all the rest. I just want to be more able!

So, for my birthday, don't give me fragrant gifts, candles, soap, baskets of fruit. Hold the cards. I want tech service!

I know this won't happen, actually. It is just a fantasy of mine that tech issues will magically be resolved. And I will thank everyone for the doilies and candles, and I will continue to make quilts and hand-made stuff for the ones I love.

Rain is still happening and life is green.

Food in Pouches! Yikes!

I read in the style section of the New York Times today that many 'up scale families' love those food pouches they can give to their kids on the fly. Lots of these pouches are organic and "fun". The kids suck up the pureed veggies, fruits, and so much else. (potato chips?) No fuss, no mess, no need to have a sit down family meal. Just feed the kids when they are hungry. They don't even have to chew those gristly bits we always used to secretly hide in our napkins. And their parents can tweet and text and drive while their kids get good nutrition.

Ah, I am getting so old! We still love those magical dinners when we all sit down at the long table, youngsters and oldsters, loving the stuff some grandchild has picked from the garden and another one may have cooked with the help of Grandpa. The only leftovers are the bones that go into the soup pot and the vegetable parings that go to the compost pile. No plastic pouches to go into recycling, nothing toxic from the insides of pouches comes from our meals. We love the talk from young and old.

The art camp was very successful, especially the food the kids made from scratch under the tutelage of Mr. Andy. On the last day everyone brought food to share and it was one of the best meals of my life! Hand made corn tortillas, all the fixings for fajitas, flan, guacamole, salsa, and the gringo things too.  Each day, all of us sat down together on the screen porch to eat lunch. (No pouches!) The end of camp was the triple exploding volcano cakes. So satisfying..

Real America, Unhinged

I am exhausted tonight, but in a good way. The second day of our annual summer Art Camp is over and I have been in the barn making sure the clay pieces are more than leather hard and ready for a firing tomorrow. I have put out two more 25lb hunks of red and white clay for tomorrow and located the whiffle ball bats and balls for the pool activities required for the next day. The paint brushes are clean and I have set out the materials for making flubber and various other interesting miscible solutions. We have checked out all the food stuffs we need and thought about what groups will do what, where and when tomorrow.

This week is a gift to our community from us, but mostly it is a gift to us. Each day we have had about twenty people, kids and parents, sometimes more. In this poorest of Florida communities, most folks do not know they should sign up, call, or tell us they can't come that day, or that they will come with many extras. Some parents just want to drop off their kids, and maybe or maybe not pick them up.

 These are not your Manhattan helicopter parents. They are druggies whose kids nag them into going to Ms Molly's camp and finally call an hour before the session begins.

But, yet, they help each other on car pooling, take home those kids whose parents have somehow 'forgotten' them. And they do not make judgments.

And then there are illegal Mexicans who have everything together and if only they had green cards..but still they have visions of college for their kids.
And they are the BEST! They would certainly give those NYC parents a run for their money (if only).

We have learned so much! Our family that hosts this- my husband and I and our seven year old grandson, have everything the American Dream could boast. We are Ivy league wasps, grandson named after a direct ancestor and an early American president. We are fairly prosperous, better off than our parents. We love to share our property and large swimming pool and art facilities and kitchen.

So, I hunker down in the clay studio, comfortable with the give and take of Spanish and English. These kids and parents are making some of the most beautiful clay pieces I have ever seen in a class. The kids get comfortable and range out to paint and build things from the many materials I have. We walk in the woods and collect moss and discarded owl feathers, wonder at turtle burrows.

 A group of kids cook the healthful lunches and prepare snacks. I hear my husband and his cooking group of little kids discussing how to hold a really sharp knife and why cooking from scratch is the best. Kids are swarming the vegetable garden to pick peppers and tomatoes.

Swimming is the best! The kids love Coach Joy who directs the pool. These kids do not have much opportunity to swim and they love every minute.

One child, fourteen years old, painfully shy, whom I'd met on a community clean up some weeks back, contacted me to say she'd like to come and help out. She was one of those people who are powerful in her silence (and made me feel anxious about what I perceived to be her neediness). I made every effort to include her. She was a non swimmer and had hair issues and she did not reach out to any of the other campers. Day two she asked me to teach her how to knit!
I am a terrible knitter, actually, and have only knit three things in my life (one of them an abysmal calamity). But I soldiered on, and this child, after one row, began to knit like a house on fire, row after row. Then she went up to the pool with the swimmers, put on an amazing swim cap to protect her about to be, used to be, might be, nappy hair, and proceeded to dive under water and swim! I held her up and said encouraging words. This kid will be swimming by the end of the week!

But the most astonishing thing to me was hearing some of the back stories of the Mexican parents who are still illegal. Before this I never actually knew anyone who had walked across the border from Mexico, enduring ten days of thirst and hunger and fear. I had never personally heard about the fears these people have on a daily basis, and the raw anxiety they have about their gifted kids who may not be able to go to college. I heard about these parents' quest to get a GED, and being turned down.

Also, there are the parents who are legally citizens, and they are golden!

So, here we are with our bilingual community camp, every socioeconomic class, gender, age, and color. We are the global community and we have more in common than not. On the last day we will have a pot-luck lunch for all the families and we will wear our camp tee shirts and produce an exploding volcano cake.

Maybe Romney should be here. Politicians don't get it.

Crazy in the rain

The weather forecast was for 90% rain today. I was worried about Bob, our yard bird sand hill crane who spent twelve hours yesterday tediously bugling alone outside the vegetable garden. And today he was back,  bugling for who knows what? Where's my family?

The morning began spitting rain and I knew that a troop of Girl Scouts was due to arrive to spend the day in my studio sewing merit badges onto their uniform sashes. I also knew that my husband and I had several important errands to do in town. I knew that the girl scouts were intent on having a swim in the pool between thunder and lightning. And I knew that the state Audubon director was due to arrive at 3.

But I kept an eye on Bob, the crane, who was still making that wild wonderful cry. Usually, Bob is in the company of his mate, Emily. I have wondered whether they raised a chick this year, but as far as I could tell, their nest was not on our nearby pond. Just as it was about time for the scouts to arrive, Bob looked to the skies and saw Emily approaching. He shouted and danced! And, then Emily glided down with their teenager chick!

By now, it was really a frog drowner. The kids had a brief swim in between thunder storms and ate lunch at tables in the barn. They spent hours sewing on the badges and doing girl scout stuff. I am worried that they will be mired on their way out in the four inches of rain that has  already fallen (and they will have to SPEND THE NIGHT!)

The girl scouts leave and we await the Audubon guy who, as everyone coming to this faraway place does, calls repeatedly to get directions. He is 2 hours late, and since we have been up since 6 a.m. we are really looking forward to supper. He arrives in a pounding rain and grins! Passes my first two tests (no suit and tie, no portfolio of glossy materials about how you can donate to Audubon.) I really liked this guy! He was observant and friendly and we had lots of mutual friends. We invited him to stay for supper, but he could not. I gave him some heirloom tomatoes, and I hope we'll see him again. For all I know, he is struggling in a muddy rain swelled ditch up the road, but I think not.

We are getting ready for our week long summer art camp, beginning next Monday. This is our gift to the community, and we expect up to 40 people to come- kids and parents. I have many pounds of fresh clay, paints, paper, materials for sculpture and constructions. I have awesome nature activities. My partner, Andy, will be the master chef, who with kid helpers, will prepare local organic meals from scratch.

Many wonderful community volunteers will help out. I know we'll be tired each evening - and so will the kids. This Audubon guy asked when we told him that we were doing this camp, "Who knows about this? It could be an inspiration to others." I don't know about that. This is just what we do.

The American Dream

Cautious and disbelieving that I am about the direction our country is heading, it affirms my optimism about life here to meet so many young people who still believe that they are on the right track.

Here is Jomesha Isles at a banquet honoring folks who have served on the board of the local community college. Jomesha's story makes the film "Precious" seem tame. Here is this absolutely beautiful young woman, a Lucy Morgan scholarship recipient, head of all honor societies, academically top of her class.  Jomesha has four kids (one of whom was there at the dinner and has already graduated with her AA degree and will go on to bigger things.) Jomesha had such a terrible childhood and adolescence - her mom died of an overdose of drugs, leaving her and her sister at a young age to make their way to a new home with grandparents. Then, there were horrible  and abusive and homeless times, having her first child at 17, working at fast food, and trying to make a life for herself and her kids. Who knows  what epiphany she had?  In  any case, she decided to get on with education, get that high school diploma and begin the long journey toward having the kind of life and work that will provide for her family.

So, here she is, about to be launched as a health care administrator. When she told her story to the group there was not a dry eye in the room! The American Dream.

Yesterday, a young woman and her husband and four year old daughter came by our house for a visit. This young woman is the daughter of Mexican tomato pickers. Somehow, this family began to believe that they should stop moving all the time. They had three daughters and a son and these kids needed to be in one place. So they stayed here in Dade City and began a stable life so their kids could attend school. I came to know this family through a wonderful community activist in the Hispanic community here.(" Here are these three extraordinary girls, all valedictorians - they need sponsors!") So we embarked on a long term financial and friendly contact with them. They went to college and we helped her older sisters get good jobs. There were times when we were in constant contact. They were always such wonderful friends! 

So, I am most interested to find out how everything has turned out, though we know this is always a work in progress. The youngest, Vicky, who came to visit yesterday, is not at all the shy one she used to be. She is the primary breadwinner for her family, office manager in a law firm, but wishes to get her law degree, an opportunity that was denied her (probably) for reasons of ethnicity. But she is optimistic! She and her husband are leapfrogging ahead, have a vision of excellence for their child. 

Who could not believe in the American Dream?

And, so, I keep on trying to give kids a sense of vision, a life they can have if they work hard. Seeing these young people who have succeeded against all odds makes me exceedingly humble.

RAIN

The ghost tree, an ancient dead giant of an oak in our front pasture, is the huge queen, dark with saturation this evening. Like everything else, it has soaked up the heavy rains and day long moisture. The forest beyond is fat and dense. The resurrection ferns make all the oak limbs look plumped out in vivid green.

 We have had a very dry season this spring, crunchy grass underfoot and the cars covered in dust. Every day watering is the norm if we want to keep anything growing in the gardens. So we are all celebrating; frogs are in full throat and we sit out on the front porch before supper watching the hummingbirds come out from their nests to the feeders. Neighbors are on their way to fish in the pond. We can almost see everything growing. Rain is magical to growth. In this rural enclave we always talk about our tomatoes and when will it rain?

We love the beginning of rainy season. It is so crucial to our lives. And yet, for us who are so heliotropic, a rainy day has its challenges. Today I hunkered down in my studio with grandson Quincy,7, and friend Abby, 10. They had many projects in mind. I am trying to finish up the binding on my latest quilt and the kids are working on various projects. I ask them to help me sort out the various bins of art materials (markers here, glue stuff there, make a bin for the paints, etc.) Two hours later, we have everything in order, ready for the summer art camp. Quincy is in love with the finger puppets he has made in the last couple of days, and I must say, they really are very cute! Abby has made a number of wonderful stickers.

Later, after Abby and Quincy have gone home, I relish the quiet and the chance to attend to my own tasks and look at the edge of the woods shrouded in mist from the intermittent rain. There are so many things to worry about, and I do, but here there are so many parts of the natural world that just make me draw in a long breath of happiness.

The Generative Age

For a few weeks I have been consumed with family and community, no time to write. This evening, however, I am happy with having my grandson, Quincy, happily in bed after a choose your own adventure story about the Amazon we read together. He takes it entirely in stride to have a grandmother who has actually been to the Amazon a number of times. We discuss the pink toed tarantulas and the howler monkeys I encountered. A seven year old is such a great audience! Most others are not at all interested.

Yesterday we went to a graduation party for three of my all time favorite people who were graduating from college, all of them the brightest and best. I have known these young women since they were very young, my posse, as we call them. For many years after I was their elementary school teacher they visited us every summer, some years more often. Before they were drivers their parents brought them. Then they came on their own. But, whatever age they were, I respected them, loved them, made quilts for each of them and had a wonderful time in lazy days full of talk, good books, games, great food and ranging in the fields and swamps that we have.

They hosted a wonderful graduation pot luck party; everyone who had been important in their lives were there- ancient grandparents, parents, siblings, family friends, boyfriends, the best college adviser (my sister!). I have found myself thinking a lot about these amazing young women and where they'll go.

The young people I saw yesterday at their graduation are the stars of our national education system. They will go on to huge success.

Other kids in our community are not tasked with such responsibility, nor have they had that brass ring to strive for.

It is my mission to  mulch the minds of the community kids I work with. They need information, experience, good books, far ranging math, questioning. (NOT FCAT)

So, I am thinking everyday about the week long camp (thirty kids!) we will have here after school ends. Our gift to the community, everything free, these kids will have the chance to learn cooking, eat wonderful food, learn swimming skills, and spend as much time as they want with clay, painting, sculpture, nature studies. Parents who come will learn far more. I think this camp week will be hard for me as the energy generator. But we want to do it!

As I have discovered, there is more talk than action. I am disappointed with our politicians and community activists who can't keep their zippers up, can't keep their hands out of the till etc.

But still, I am a believer in the good that the good folks can do. All I have to do to affirm this for me is to know the teachers and staff at our local elementary school and see one kid, my grandchild, focus on learning what I am teaching.

Hey Mom!

When I call my oldest son, he always responds with "Hey Mom!". He's the only one of our three kids who calls me mom. And, in a tiny way, I find that quite wonderful. Yes, I know the others know I am their mom, and from birth it happened that our kids called us by our first names.

So, who's mom on this Mothers Day? I am proud of my three kids and eight grandkids. Being a mom has been one of my life's four great pleasures. (Spouse, mom, good work, friends- in that order)

My parents and my husband's parents were so effete and above it they eschewed mothers day as being a commercial Hallmark occasion so we never celebrated it. Times change. I think that mothers day is charming and a great time to celebrate our families!

My mom is dead so I do not have to think of flowers or cards ; I just think of her as I do every day, sometimes wondering what she would do or think or remembering her amazing literary knowledge she so generously shared with her kids until she died at 92.

I think of our newest Mom, the mother of twins, my beautiful daughter-in-law who this year wears the crown of our Mom-of-the-Year!

My daughter, single mom, has raised an amazing kid. Her partner (who could not call her Mom also?) has had great input.

So, tomorrow, our local family will celebrate Mothers Day together. Americans all, we are of different colors, religions, origins, gay or straight. We'll have a potluck by the pool, lots of kids will be there.

HAPPY MOTHERS DAY!

Gay Marriage!

It's about time! Having our president affirm the rights for gays and lesbians to marry is just what he should do. These things are not just about politics; it is the right thing to do moving our society forward to have equal rights for all.
Lots of us have gays and lesbians in our circle of family and friends and we know they are just regular folks, working, raising families, loving each other. They should be able to have the same rights as heterosexual folks. We also have heterosexual folks in our families who are not married but are partners who often are raising kids together. All of these people, married or not, are worthy of respect and rights.
We need to be an inclusive society. So many of our families today include people of all colors and ethnicity. And now, we can get those loved ones who are gay or lesbian or transgender out of the closet.
We are all human!
We all have a fear of the unknown, and we have fears about our darkest secrets. Sexuality is a continuum and in every one of us there is doubt about how we measure up as masculine, feminine or maybe something else. It is a comfort to have a minister or politician or shaman tell us what to think and how to behave.
With Obama's sanction of gay marriage, the dialog can begin.

Bounty of the Garden

This is just one corner of this fenced vegetable garden. All you can see here are beans and cukes (with zinnias for the feng shway). Each evening we have the choice from ten or more tasty vegetables: eggplants, beans, cucumbers, tomatoes, collards, kale, chard, mitzuma, salad greens, onions, peapods and broccoli.

My best crop is the tomatoes! This year I planted all ten tomato plants in large containers with the bottoms cut out. This way, the cut worms don't invade, and so far, there are no tomato horn worms. Each morning when I visit this incredible place there are ripe tomatoes- all heirlooms, and huge! The black krims are dark Harvard crimson, so juicy and sweet there is no comparison to what you get in the markets. There are striped tomatoes, yellows, tiny ones, funny looking ones - all wonderful!

I search under the leaves for ripe cucumbers and find dozens! I think about making pickles. The green beans are way ahead of me though I pick daily. Pickled beans? There must be fifty eggplants waiting to be picked. How many recipes are there for eggplant? Peppers are yet to come.

Growing your own food is just the best! It compares to growing kids when you go from all potential to maybe a great harvest. But growing a garden is much less fraught. You can dig down those unfortunate vegetables that never did anything; not something you could do with a kid.

All the critters here are celebrating the spring harvest. Bob and Emily, the resident sand hill cranes spend most of every day in the yard looking for grubs and worms, purring and hoping I will leave the garden gate open. The deer are enjoying the tips of the rose bushes, the new citrus and the camellias. The squirrels are enjoying digging up the seeds I plant. Raccoons are eyeing the grape arbor and marking their calendar to attack just at the point the grapes will be ripe enough to make jelly.

Last evening we sat on the front porch after the rain watching the rainbow emerge. At the end of it were Bob and Emily, oblivious to their good fortune of living in paradise.

Super Mom

We returned today from a week's visit to see our youngest grandchildren, the twins! On the plane there were a number of babies, no twins, and I thought what a piece of cake it is to have only one.

 Our luggage was full of sweaters still fragrant with baby smells, and already we miss them so much!

What a week! These little guys have not even yet met their formal due date, but they are plump and gaining weight before our eyes, and each day we were there there were new milestones of development.

What we did was to be the competent old couple who did support duty. The dad, our son, was in the busiest period of his work life, negotiating the budget late into the nights for the state of Connecticut, so we were needed. Of course the most important thing was the feeding of these two greedy little physical beings. Super mom is breastfeeding!

One baby takes over the house. Two of them! Yikes! The living room is feeding central with a crib, changing station, and piles of tiny garments, diapers, and small cloths and blankets. Rarely are they ever sleeping at the same time: they are squirming and making constant small rooting noises, farting and belching.

And they are so appealing! A girl and a boy, they look quite different from each other, extremely cute. I spent hours just gazing at them.

But then, there was the laundry and the regular household stuff to do. Shopping, cooking for the lactating super mom, and best of all, just holding them, my heart full of babies and their fragrant milky smell. I have always known that children are the enemies of concentration, twins even more so.

Their mom is amazing! Right off the bat, she's confident and competent and accepts our help so graciously. Somehow, she finds time to read to each baby every day and find good humor in such homely things as bath time.

We are tired after being on such duty for a week. I would not trade that experience for anything. (What will these kids think of us when we are ninety?)