Kindergarten -- already??

All I really need to know... I learned in kindergarten.          ~Robert Fulghum

It is almost impossible for me to believe, but my oldest grandchild Addie is starting kindergarten this week. She is excited to ride the school bus, has visited the school and seen the classroom and met her teacher. Addie is bright, inquisitive and polite, so she should do very well in a classroom setting. As an only child, she will have to learn to share -- both things like books and toys and also the attention of her teacher. 

Heading off to school is an enormous life change for a child, and a huge milestone in their development. As her grandmother, I can remember both going off to school myself way back when, and also sending her daddy off to school for the first time. In both cases, life was never the same after that... so I know life is about to change for Addie as well.

School opens up a whole new world to children. Addie will begin to read this year (which is something kindergarteners did not learn when I was one!) so the world of books and literature will open up even more to her. She will learn science and math at the most basic levels, and will begin to learn art and music a little more formally as well. And then there is the social learning-- the part that scares Grandma the most. Addie is sweet and mostly innocent, and enjoys playing with other children when she can. Once she is in school she will feel the desire to "fit in" so she can have lots more friends. Sometimes she will be left out and will learn how that feels. And sometimes she will be tempted to leave out a child who doesn't "fit". Grandma hopes that she will always remember to be kind-- to treat the other children with compassion. And that she will never feel the broken heart that comes when you feel left out...

Addie and her Great Grandmother Dee Doe

Addie is lucky-- she has parents and grandparents who love her and think she is IT. We will all be supportive of her as she learns. I hope she will always feel loved by us, supported by us, and listen when we tell her how wonderful she is, and that she can do and become pretty much anything she sets her mind to doing. That is what school is ultimately about-- learning and growing to become a contributing citizen of the world. My wish is that she learns skills and attitudes of self-confidence and self-reliance, that she develops compassion for others as well. Addison, my darling beloved grand daughter-- you have so much to offer the world and it needs you to give your best. Grandma will always be here to support your efforts and encourage you. Go out into this world and make it a better place! And while you are doing it, be sure to enjoy it and have some fun. I love you, Addie!!

Robert Fulghum wrote a wonderful little book about all this. Here is a quote from it:

“These are the things I learned (in Kindergarten):

1. Share everything.
2. Play fair.
3. Don't hit people.
4. Put thngs back where you found them.
5. CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS.
6. Don't take things that aren't yours.
7. Say you're SORRY when you HURT somebody.
8. Wash your hands before you eat.
9. Flush.
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
11. Live a balanced life - learn some and drink some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work everyday some.
12. Take a nap every afternoon.
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
14. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Stryrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
15. Goldfish and hamster and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup - they all die. So do we.
16. And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first workd you learned - the biggest word of all - LOOK.” 
― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten

Delicious Ambiguity

For all of nature's wonder and beauty, it is also hostile and unpredictable. 

          ~Liam Neeson

I have written before about my rose garden. I get my love of roses from my father, who always had them in each place he lived. I remember being awakened early on a summer Saturday morning by my father spraying insecticide on his roses, which were in a little garden area right under my bedroom window-- and my bed was under that window too on the other side. Later, in the year or so he lived in Indiana, he planted roses in a little garden at the cottage he and my mother lived in at a retirement village. He used to pick the best blooms and give them to my mother (or once in awhile to me!) and he always clipped the thorns off them before he brought them in the house. Roses to him were gifts from God that he could grow and give to others. It was a way to share his love.

Anyway, the house Lanny and I live in has the perfect place to grow them, so over time I have planted about 20 bushes. Some are tea roses that give single, magnificent blooms. Some are "floribunda" that bloom in clusters of fragrant color. Some are "knock out" roses, bred to be hardy and bloom all season long. I have had some problems growing roses... first, the dreaded Japanese Beetle invaded, and thousands of the black irridescent bugs munched on my roses. The blooms seem to attract them, and I would find a shrub covered in blooms which were completely covered in these awful creatures. So, Lanny and I got to work-- he spread an insecticide specific to this bug all over the yard and I got some spray which I doused the plants in. I would go out every morning and remove any bloom that I found a beetle on and spray the little -------'s with the spray. Our war lasted all summer and I never had a bloom that was fit to bring in the house after the attacks started.

When I retired, I decided to try my hand at vegetable gardening. I had Lanny build me a 6 inch high wood frame and grew 2 tomato plants and 2 pepper plants. They yielded delicious produce that we enjoyed a great deal, so last year Lanny built two more frames. I had tomatoes in one, peppers in the other, and a cucumber, a squash and a canteloup plant in the third. They were growing well when it quit raining. It didn't rain a drop here from the end of May to early September, so I had to water everything virtually every morning. Then our well started showing signs of stress and I had to quite watering-- my plants were on their own. We had a pretty good harvest of peppers, a few good tomatoes, and as many cucumbers as we could eat. We loved them... the squash and the canteloup didn't fare well though.

This year, with all that experience under my belt, I started the planting season optimistically. The roses burst into bloom in early June, just as I had hoped. I planted the raised vegetable beds just as I had last year, this year only planting cucumbers in the third bed. Lanny and I spent a great deal of time spreading mulch around the yard and weeding the beds I had had to leave to the weeds last summer during the heat and draught. I focused on one flower bed, which had been started two seasons ago with the idea of making a "prairie garden" using plants that are native to the midwest. We moved some plants from the front yard to the back, mulched and weeded ourselves into exhaustion.  And it rained! Our plants were well-watered. It has not been too hot a summer... The plants grew, flowers bloomed, bugs stayed away -- all was well!

One of my favorite floribundas-- covered in peachy fragrant blooms this June...

Theoretically, and honestly realistically, I should have the best flowers and vegetables ever. But, something has gone awry, and I don't know what. Despite lots of rain, some nice sunny days, a few hot ones too, and despite feeding them and tending them, my garden is disappointing at best. The roses have not bloomed much at all since early June. The vegetables are looking yellow and have very little fruit on them-- out of 6 peppers, I've harvested one small pepper and there are no more out there growing. We've had 5 cucumbers, and there is one little one growing but that's it. The tomatoes are a little better but not the crop I expected. Last year we were enjoying cucumbers and tomatoes every evening for dinner... not so this year despite planting more plants and having much better growing condiions.

The rose garden -- see any roses? Most of the foliage has fallen off too. Despite feeding and pruning and tending just like I have every year...  ??

I sincerely doubt we'll get many cucumbers from this vine...

The raised vegetable beds - lots of sun and rain - and not much growth or fruit...

The only thing that has grown are the prairie flowers. And the ones that grew the best are the coneflowers. These are tall, purple daisy-like flowers that attract butterflies and bees and the birds love the seeds when the bloom is done. The birds eat the seeds, and then of course digest and poop them out, so the plants spread naturally that way. I don't have to cultivate them at all-- they love hot, dry or wet, lots of sun. The daisies and day lilies and all the other flowers out there are doing so well the garden looks like it is bursting at the seams... and while I put most of the plants in the ground, I really haven't paid much attention to them.

Here I am in my "Praire Garden" - this one has grown and produced gorgeous flowers! But what is the difference???

So go figure... I am trying to learn something from all of this and so far I'm not getting much... why do plants that have seemingly ideal growing conditions not do well and others explode with blooms? What is it I am missing in the roses and the vegetables that needs to be done to make them the beautiful garden I dream of?  Perhaps this winter I can convince Lanny to take that Master Gardener course with me and we can figure it out. Or perhaps there is no answer-- it just is what it is -- "delicious ambiguity"? Dear Reader, if you have any helpful hints in all this, please let me know-- I intend to have a gorgeous garden next year!

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.Delicious Ambiguity.           ~ Gilda Radner

Competitive Knitting???

Live daringly, boldly, fearlessly. Taste the relish to be found in competition - in having put forth the best within you.
              ~Henry J. Kaiser

I have been a knitter since I was 10 years old and my mother and grandmother taught me the skill. However, it is only since retirement that I have approached the craft with a serious intent to learn and improve. About the time I retired a yarn shop opened up very close to me, and they offered a "Knit Night" where a group of knitters gather each Thursday evening to knit together. We share our projects, interesting new techniques, and help one another. I have attended a knitters' convention and taken a few classes. All of this has challenged me to learn new techniques and practice them in interesting projects. 

Two summers ago I completed a lovely shawl, complete with almost a thousand little crystal beads, each hand applied. It is lovely... I wore it to my niece's wedding and enjoyed the compliments it received. The "girls" at Knit Night all encouraged me to enter it in the county fair last year... so I did. I entered that, a sweater I knit for my sister, and a baby sweater set done in the Norwegian color work known as Fair Isle. All three entries won blue ribbons and the baby sweater set won a "grand champion" ribbon as best in the show for the category. The shawl won a "reserve champion" ribbon, taking a second place to another beautiful shawl as best in show for that category.

I was thrilled, of course. But inside a little part of me was disappointed that my shawl was not considered "the best". I knew how hard I had worked on it and it really is a thing of beauty... That is not to disagree with the judge, as the shawl that won was equally beautiful, beaded as well. But I wanted to win. 

The more I ruminated on this, the more determined I became to win that "best in show" designation again. I had some really lovely yarn that I had found at the knitters' convention. It was literally hand painted and so soft. I wanted to make a sweater with it. And I wanted the sweater to WIN. I searched and finally found the perfect pattern. It was by far the most complicated pattern ever, with elaborate lace panels and shaping (that is, it is knit to narrow at the waist and then widen again for the hips) and I intended to knit it perfectly.

To complete the project perfectly, I had to inspect my work often and found that I often had to "unknit" to fix an imperfection. I found a flaw in one sleeve after I had completed the whole thing, and had to learn to drop a stitch and go down 47 rows to fix it, and then redo the knitting all the way back up-- kind of like fixing a run in a large stocking. I learned to do an invisible seam, but backwards because of the special stitch pattern used. I learned to make what are called "bobbles", which are little 3D balls that are a part of the pattern. Finally it was done, assembled and ready. I took it over to the fair this past Saturday, along with two other projects. 

Lanny and I went back to the fair on Sunday to see how I had done. All three of my projects won Blue Ribbons!  Yay!!! 

But the sweater did not win "grand champion" or even "reserve champion". There were two shawls that were beautifully knit that were given these designations.  I found myself feeling pretty disappointed... how could such a complicated, intricate work, so perfectly wrought, not win? How could I lose again??? I found myself thinking at first that if I put everything I had into a project and it still wasn't good enough, then forget it. No more competition for me-- I hated the hollow feeling of not winning. Hated it!

Then it dawned on me. My quest for perfection had indeed made me a winner, even if the sweater was not. The project was almost secondary to what I had learned. Look at all those skills I had learned and perfected! Look at the experience and patience to redo mistakes I had gained! Look at the enjoyment and satisfaction I had gained in making a beautiful object with my own two hands! That was what I loved about knitting and about competing-- the quest for perfection led to discovering all kinds of new things. And in the process, something beautiful had been created. Beautiful enough to win a blue ribbon at the county fair. If other people had done the same thing, and made objects that were just a little bit more perfect than mine, that did not diminish one bit my own achievement.

So, perhaps with a different attitude this time, I will begin to look for next year's project. I will look for lovely yarn, a complicated pattern that will challenge me to learn new things. And I will enjoy the process of creating something beautiful. And THAT will make me a winner! 

This is the shawlette (kind of a triangular scarf) I knit that also won a blue ribbon. The baby set is intended as a gift, so I'm not going to show it...

Ob-la-di ob-la-da life goes on...

Ob-la-di ob-la-da life goes on - braLa-la how the life goes onOb-la-di ob-la-da life goes on - braLa-la how the life goes on          ~from song "Ob-La-Di Ob-La Da" by the Beatles

 Back in the 6th grade, I remember hearing about a band from England that had weird hairdos and were singing rock and roll songs. My earliest memory is hearing two people discussing how awful they were. Weird looking, non-conforming and British, they were greeted with some suspicion. By the time I was in the 7th grade though, I was a huge fan. I used to bring my little transistor radio to bed with me, plug in the earphone, and listen to WBZ in Boston at night, because they played Beatles songs and had interviews with them too.
                               
Beatles fans, at least the young girls, seemed to immediately fall into factions-- we all had favorites. I was a Paul Girl. He was considered the "Cute Beatle" and I thought he was dreamy... I read fan magazines about him, including his girlfriend at the time, Jane Asher. I cut out any photographs of him I could find and had them all taped to the closet door in my bedroom. When I turned 13, I received a record player as a gift, and so I used my allowance and baby-sitting money to buy records-- most of them Beatles singles (the old 45 rpm records...) A few of these were love ballads, such as "And I love her..." which I would put on the record player and then pull the arm off so it played over and over and over... (I am certain my mother, who did not share my passion, got really sick of hearing theses songs!) The summer between 7th and 8th grades the Beatles performed in Toronto, about 80 miles from where I lived. A couple of my friends and I saved our money (a ticket was $8!!!), conned one of the girl's mothers into taking us up there, and we attended the concert... our seats were up so high in the auditorium and the bedlam that came from hundreds of young teenage girls screaming and crying made for a rather unsatisfactory experience... but I can say that I really did see the Beatles perform live. A watershed moment in my life...

Time passed. I went to college and the Beatles broke up. I learned to enjoy lots of different kinds of music. The 33 rpm albums became tapes, and with new equipment I couldn't play the albums any more. But I managed to keep up a little bit with what was happening in Paul McCartney's life. He grew up too, formed a new band and played different music. He married, had a family. Me too.
                               
Sometime in the 1980's I attended a Paul McCartney concert when he was with his band Wings. I had lost that star-eyed worship of him by then, but I remember enjoying the concert a lot. What I remember most is that the band didn't play any old Beatle tunes. This was understandable, but those were the tunes I really wanted to hear.

Life went on. Paul's wife died. My first marriage ended. He remarried a supermodel, who apparently took him for a financial ride, and they divorced a few years later. He remarried again (brave guy!). I remarried too. His children grew up, so did mine. We are both grandparents. He performed at the Superbowl a few years ago here in Indy, and I remember thinking that he'd gotten OLD... (not me, of course...)

Which brings us to this past weekend. My dear husband surprised me with a wonderful dinner at a fancy downtown Brazilian restaurant, where the meat is served "gaucho style" (that is, brought to the table on spears and carved right there). When dinner was over, he informed me we weren't finished-- there was to be more to the evening. And then he escorted me to the basketball field house, and I discovered we were seeing Paul McCartney perform!

The show was brilliant. I am sure the music critics will disagree, as there is no question he has aged.  But... Dazzling lights and songs that were a mix of old Beatles tunes and old Wings tunes, with a few newer ones thrown in. I could sing along to almost every one. And he sang every one of the old ballads I used to play over and over and over... It was a little like being greeted by an old friend. He is old-- he's 10 years older than I am. His voice is considerably weaker than it once was... but his energy is still there. He played for 2 hours without a break, playing at least 5 different guitars, a ukelele and 2 different pianos. There was even a pyrotechnics display! I loved it... I sang to Lanny and he sang back to me.

The moment never lasts, but for an evening we could pretend we were kids again... What a gift that is to give to someone! Thank you to my dear husband Lanny for taking me to the concert, and to Sir Paul McCartney for somehow keeping the energy and the talent and the charisma of those long ago days alive in his performance!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Most of us can remember a time when a birthday - especially if it was one's own - brightened the world as if a second sun has risen.          ~Robert Staughton Lynd

When I woke up this morning, the day felt different. It took a few moments for me to remember-- today was my birthday! Just about every other day when I get up I am thinking of what needs to be done, the chores and responsibilities I have lined up to work on that day. But not today! I laid in bed for a few minutes feeling that delicious "I've got nothing to do today!" feeling, and then started remembering other birthdays...

The year I turned thirteen was a special one. My father had announced that since I was going to be a teenager, he had something special planned. He invited me to go out to lunch with him... The day fell during the week, so he was working. Work back then was only a 10 minute drive from our home, so he arranged to come and pick me up. My mother was not working outside the home at that time, and it was summer so my sister was at home... but this was just me and my dad. I can remember the home made dress I wore, and the big clunky sixties' style medallion I wore around my neck. He picked me up and off we went to a local restaurant. It was a place that he had eaten at often with work friends (probably related to Rotary Club meetings?). He had talked about an open faced sandwich they served there called a "Shrimp Ho!" sandwich... and this was what I ordered.

I remember the place was fancy enough that we were escorted to our seats and the chair was held for me by the host. There were linen napkins. The water glasses had stems... like wine glasses, almost! The food was delicious. I felt sooooooooo grown up and so proud to be with my dad. So special! It was special enough that I can remember the details all these many years later...

Celebrating birthdays, and other milestones of course, is important. So today, I will take the day off from chores and responsibilities, and enjoy my day. My husband has some plans involving meals and perhaps even ice cream-- bless him! Getting back to chores and responsibilities will come tomorrow and that is fine. But I have learned, finally, that it is okay to let people fuss a little over me on this occasion... Happy Birthday to Me!!

Revelry

I let my head fall back, and I gazed into the Eternal Blue Sky. It was morning. Some of the sky was yellow, some the softest blue. One small cloud scuttled along. Strange how everything below can be such death and chaos and pain while above the sky is peace, sweet blue gentleness. I heard a shaman say once, the Ancestors want our souls to be like the blue sky.  

          ~Shannon Hale, Book of a Thousand Days

She is not usually a morning person... sleep comes late at night, and lately it is fitful, due in part to a throbbing shoulder burdened with arthritis. It usually takes a mug of coffee and a few minutes sitting up in bed for her to come to.

This morning, however, she arose before 8 am. The weather was predicted to be hot and humid-- and perhaps a thunderstorm or two, just to remind her she was in Indiana and it was July. Her rising was greeted enthusiastically by the dog, who ran to his food dish in the kitchen and waited... and she silently scooped out the kibbles into his dish. Then she went to make a fresh pot of coffee. Her head was not yet clear...and that coffee would help.

Checking the indoor/outdoor thermometer, which indicated it was 77 degrees, she took the coffee outside and sat down at the deck table. Laptop in hand, her intent was to read emails and conduct usual morning business...

The air was soft. A slight breeze brought the scent of the flowers from her garden. A song sparrow was singing in the tree closest to the house, and was answered by a second sparrow in the distance. Other than the breeze and the birds, it was quiet-- too early for mowing grass or children to be out playing. She sipped her coffee... she breathed in the fresh air and felt the breeze... she smelled the flowers and listened to the song of the sparrow... And she woke up.

Happy Birthday to the USA!

My God! How little do my countrymen know what precious blessings they are in possession of, and which no other people on earth enjoy!

                           ~Thomas Jefferson

 Every year, in the middle of summer, America celebrates what we consider to be our country's birthday. Every child in this country grows up learning the story of the Declaration of Independence and how it was written and signed on July 4th, 1776 by our founding fathers. The National Archives in Washington, DC, houses an original copy of this precious document-- I have seen it a couple times and have marveled at it. How it is just paper, with crumpled edges and fading ink. Encased in a special climate/humidity/light controlled  exhibit, guarded by an honor guard, it is a wonderful thing. A physical example that still remains of an idea, a spirit, a rebellion that founded our nation.

There is much that is wrong with this country. I often struggle with the things I find our country could improve on... and why we aren't doing a better job of improving it. Probably each of you has a list of similar concerns. But today, let's celebrate the fact that we can raise concerns. We can work to change our country, to improve it. And we can cherish it.

Recent events in Egypt, where a leader was democratically elected but mistakenly thought this gave him a mandate to become an autocrat, and where the people have risen up against him, have given me pause.  It is the second uprising in two years, and an example of how the ideals of democracy can be misunderstood, but the spirit of it can't be denied the people who want it. I have been moved by this event-- and made acutely aware of how lucky I am to live where I do. While we are far from perfect here, we have an understanding of both the spirit of democracy and the responsibility of it.

So, on America's 237th birthday, let's celebrate the blessing of living in a democracy where we can criticize, work to improve, and enjoy our country. Happy Birthday, America!

                               

Family Ties!

The great gift of family life is to be intimately acquainted with people you might never even introduce yourself to, had life not done it for you.
          ~Kendall Hailey

I love Facebook... I love that it connects me to people I haven't seen in years. I have caught up with old schoolmates and friends from past work settings, seen photos of their families and learned about their lives. I have been able to stay connected in a new way with my own extended family. 

This morning as I read the latest offerings on Facebook I was struck with a theme-- everyone seemed to be talking about family reunions. My daughter-in-law's family is celebrating the 90th birthday of their patriarch with a gathering in New Jersey that she, my son and their two boys will be traveling to. I know my grandsons will have a great time being spoiled by their great grandparents, and assorted great aunts, cousins and second cousins. My sister is in Colorado at the reunion of her husband's family, and having spent time with some of these delightful people I know what fun they will have, and in a gorgeous setting. And a week ago my own family gathered for the birthday of my mother, including some extended family that we don't see very often. 

At my mother's party, I watched my three grandchildren play together and realized that this connection was a lifelong one-- playing with cousins would be a cherished memory for them...

Cousins with their great-grandma

Family can be everything. The most important thing. The best thing in your life. Family problems can override everything else, make life miserable, desperate. If your family is strong and supportive, you feel like you can survive just about anything life throws at you. Without that love and support, just living day-to-day can be hard. I know what it feels like to be on the outside of a family looking in, and I remember the grief I felt at the loss of family when I divorced. There was a time when I felt my family had disintegrated around me, and I felt alone and adrift. After I married Lanny, one of the great joys was being adopted by his family too.

Here's the thing, though. Family can be defined as just about anything. It doesn't have to be Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa with loving aunts and uncles, cousins, etc. I learned as an OB nurse that there are families out there with very non-traditional members, and they all provided the love and support needed to raise a child. My definition of family probably isn't the same as yours. What matters is that we each feel a part of a group that loves one another and supports one another. Good friends, coworkers, club members, church groups-- any of these can become family. Figure out who your family is and stay with them... love them, support them, stay in touch. It makes all the difference!