Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Adventure Girl

When Bell was tiny Jack called her Danger Girl.  She was a climber, never afraid of anything except ghosts and lobsters ( a story in itself ), always curiously poking and prodding.   There were things she didn't like, but she was always up for a new day of exploring and doing her own stunts.

I am not sure when she and Jack started the bone and bug collections, but she was probably 3.  It began with pretty beetles and one of each type of butterfly. It soon expanded to every creepy crawly, every flying, stinging thing they could catch.  Then came the bones.  A favorite is an armadillo toe liberated from a found skeleton.  Bell once hauled an entire cow skeleton to the house, wagon load by wagon load.  There are small rodent skulls.  Bird bones.  I think the idea is that the bones get studied to understand the mechanics of the animals, both for interests of a future scientist and a future artist.  I am not repulsed, but those aren't my thing.

Somewhere along the way, curiosity has morphed a once danger prone child into an adventure girl.  Some days the adventure is simply picking up little mussel shells on the lake.  It might be planting seeds or building a toad house in the flower bed.  In snow, the adventure is sledding, but she and I also following the twisty, intricate paths of rabbits through the woods to see where they go.  The bugs and bones are still hot, but there is a microscope now, so we can look at things we find.  We don't do as many dangerous things, but more exploring things.

I love the idea of pretty dresses, of my pink and blond mess asleep in little girl pjs, and of her sweetly helping make cookies.  I like those girly ideas that we get to live.  I am thankful for a lack of interest in fashion, boys, and silly teenager things little girls adopt.

This week, Jack has been clearing out trees damaged from the ice storms two years ago.  Bell is with him and calls the area her Cat Kingdom since her kitties roam there.  Bell climbs the fallen trees, finds an owl pellet, messes with grape vines, and reigns over her kingdom until supper.  It isn't a grand adventure with hidden treasure, but it is a natural sort of adventure that I hope she does not outgrow.


Friday, January 25, 2013

A Few Seeds

As badly as I want to be planting rows upon rows of berries and fruit, we are not ready for that.  It also isn't the right time of year for some things.  I envision rows of green, baskets brimming, wheelbarrows of compost, the whole thing.

I do not know if we will  ever be in that place, but it is surely not now.  I am thinking this year will be raised beds with tomatoes down the centers, peppers on the ends, greens down the sides.  I also want some herb space beyond my pots.  I want a small patch of French beans and sugar snap peas.  We will try melons.  Pumpkins.  Cucs.  But all on a small scale.

Here in lies the problem.  I always start out thinking small and then end up huge.  Last year the move forced me out of gardening much, but the years past I would say " just  30 tomatoes this year," only to plant 60 or 80.  One year it was 100.  It is a compulsion and a curiosity.  I want to try every variety.  I want the heirlooms.  The strange things. The tried and true.  The new.  I think Jack avoids going to town with me in the spring because he knows there will be stinky tomato plants to ride home with.  I have tried growing seeds a few times.  The last time I grew beautiful plants  that bore no fruit.  I think the potassium was off in my soil.  It also was just too hot.  No one had a great garden that year.  The year before that, the great winds and fires destroyed my greenhouse and most of my plants.

This year, since we will still be using well water and not lake water yet, I am doing small gardening . . . if we can figure out how to build and fill raised beds cheaply.  That doesn't mean I am not messing about with new things though and that means seeds and putting up our greenhouse again.  Last weekend I ordered my seeds from Territorial Seed. Italian sweet peppers that no one ever sells in plant form.  A purple French bean called Velour. Sugarsnax carrots.  Magenta chard.  Super early Beaverlodge tomatoes.    Cherry Buzz tomatoes. There are other tried and true varieties too,  but I am just smitten with all those beautiful pictures of fruit, cut open and dripping, those tantalizing and mysterious names.  I am such a sucker.  At least I just bought samples of those unknown seeds.

Saturday is work day.  We have kept a crazy schedule lately and today is clean house, wash car, cook day.  It is also seed planting day.  Of course much will be sown directly in the ground, but the tomatoes, peppers, and herbs get to be thrust into soil in little peat pots today.  They will hang out under some lights up at the big house for a few weeks and then be moved to our tiny greenhouse.  We will either put a little heater in it, or bring things into the well house on cold nights. Lots of mess, lots of watching temperatures, lots of wonder as shoots pop through soil, lots of promise.

I really doubt if I am finished buying seeds and plants.  I never am.  I always find space to squeeze in one more plant in a hidden corner, stretching that water hose just another foot farther, but today is all about seeds.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Reservations

Monday, my student teacher from Cameron arrived.

There are days that I hope are not repeated while she is here . . . The kind of day when I might have said something like " it is a good thing breathing is automatic" referring to a particularly lazy child.  Or the kind of day when I manage to lose the copies of poetry,  use the wrong key on the tests, and crash the grade program all within an hour.

Honestly, those days don't happen that often, but I have a few 17 yr old students who truly acted 13 or perhaps even 9 today.  I know this girl is cute and nice, but I don't think those boys had a hope with her, certainly not when they resorted to poking each other so they could have my attention during a round table close reading today.

I also have reservations about turning over my class to someone I have known for 8 hours.  Who knows?  She could be Ann or she could be Dr. Andrews.  I think she will be more of the Brenda Brown type actually.  Time will tell.  For now she is watching.  Maybe in a few days, she will try her hand at some of my calm classes and work up to my high maintenance kids.  We will talk about what I am teaching and what she wants to try teaching. It will be fine, but It is odd to think of someone else doing my job for me.  Today, I tried extra hard to model only good things.  Tried is the important word in the previous sentence.  It was a crazy day because I was also trying 3 new strategies I learned in a reading class Saturday.

Probably most of all, I want to tell this kid, "Run to the mountain."  I am sure she knows about state mandated tests, poor salaries, unsupportive parents, blah, blah, blah. But she only knows about it in theory.  She has all these really cool lessons dreamed up that might work in an AP class or a reading for pleasure class, but not so much in a class with a big state test at the end.  Does she know that parents will call her at home and scream?  That her car will be vandalized?  That she will spend her years cleaning desks that have been decorated with drawings of a penis?  That her day is not over when the bell rings but at 11 when she is finished grading?

I don't think I was that idealistic when I started teaching, but back then I spent more time on things that let kids think creatively.  We used to have time for novels, the Utopia project, more time on poetry about living life, more discussion, more time in the moment of enjoying lit for the sake of beauty and pleasure.  Now it is make as many things fit the state test as we can and then try to squeeze the rest in at the last week.  At the beginning, I had no grand illusions of saving the masses, but I did help a few connect to the pages around them

I know.  I really do care.  You are right.  I do care what becomes of the boy I stood next to for an hour so he couldn't sleep and the girl who is abused and . . . and . . . I care that they become closer readers and more analytical and better at that damnable test.  I do.

I do like it when I teach.  Today was good because we learned something new and we learned fairly well.  I just don't know that this is what I would have chosen if I had only known then.

Monday, January 21, 2013

Connectivity

I don't spend as much time right now online as I sometimes do.  I play Words.  I do the occasional blog, but really . . . I am in a hum drum place.  School.  Cooking. Jack.  Precocious odd kid.  Laundry.  Repeat.  Repeat.  I  don't feel as I have that much wit or items of interest to splash about.

Actually, I do probably spend as much time, but it is time reading rather than posting.  When we moved, I really grieved at leaving the circle of friends from school, women and a few men that I laughed with, plotted with, and occasionally bawled with.

My move was tempered by knowing that some of my dearest friends were also leaving or had already gone.  There is something right in getting a morning email from Cheryl or Di or Sue.  There is assurance when the college crowd says I am on the right track.  There is comfort in at least knowing when my other family is happy or embarking on a new adventure or grieving.  I at least can be happy with them or pray for them from afar.  I know right now a few friends are dealing with difficult issues that I cannot fix, but at least I know and can care.

Right now I feel like I am just keeping my head above water at school and at home.  I haven't done a god job of carving out some me time.  I am not going to manage that today either.  Even though I haven't had the usual stress burning workouts, I still have coffee-iPad-email time every morning.  I like starting every morning  with that connection, knowing it works both ways, that that those I connect with are checking on me too.

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Our other job

Jobs seem to be an issue around here.  I know we have both fretted over Jack not finding the right job  and my discontent with mine.  I worry about Jack's happiness, and I know he worries about mine.

This week, those jobs out in the world have been pushed to the back of our minds while we dealt with the job of home and family.

When we moved, we really moved to be close to Jack's parents.  This way, we can make the most of what time they have left.  I know that we never know the hour or minute when our time will come to an end, but chances are that  the Rucker parents in their 80's don't have as long as the Wilson parents in their 50's.  I wanted Jack and Bell to have time with them, time for Jack to reconnect and for Bell to really get to know them, but also time for me  to get closer to them.

There was also a growing need for us to be here to help out.  With age come health issues.  Off and on, they have allowed us to help with little things like meals and acting as chauffeur for shopping trips and doctor visits.  Sometimes, they have actually needed us.  Sometimes, we were probably just nice to have around, but this past week, Jack earned his keep.  His dad was in the hospital all week.  Everyday, Jack started his day getting us girls out the door smoothly and then headed across the pasture to help his mom.  Pharmacy runs.  Housework.  Whatever she needed, then he spent his day at the hospital, making sure his dad was comfortable and doctors were consulted.  I mostly just got to make sure things were smooth here at the house, with hot meals on the table and a kiss for when he walked in the door.  His dad is home now, stronger and in good spirits, but there is still worry.  Jack will spend huge amounts of time at the big house in the next few weeks until his dad is up and going again.  There will be nurses and therapists coming.  There will be tiredness and probably grouchiness.  There will be trips to the doctor.  In all of this, I mostly just get to be the laundry girl, kid watcher, cook, and provider of sweetness. It also means that worries about our world jobs are sidetracked.

That is fine.  I am at peace with being here, with having Jack up the hill more and at home less, with the state of things.  I watch Jack with his parents and there is so much love there.  There is pride, but also deep affection in his mom and dad when they talk about their kids.  I know Jack is tired, just bone tired right now, but he is also happy.  Being here is good for him, for all of us.  I think this current bout of their needing us will not be long, but I am sure there will be others.  Right now, our time is something we can give.


Saturday, January 5, 2013

I shopped and shopped some more

I am truly not much of a shopper.  Jack would say I am in denial, but that is just because when I do shop, it takes hours.  And hours. And maybe a few more hours after that.

I think one of my problems is that my taste doesn't fit my budget. I see things I like but cannot justify.    I am picky too.  I would really prefer to look as if I fell out of either 1880 or 1920 or 1945. Not so much 2013.  There are places to get those sorts of clothes, but it is hard to come up with an entire outfit that works plus shoes .   .  . And then there is the budget thing again.   I also really like cotton rather than acrylic, rayon, nylon, and polyester.  Yep, picky.

Originally, I thought Jack Dear and Bell were going shopping with me today so I had planned on a quick one hour jaunt through Penny's to hit the sale racks and see what was left. I ended up going alone to the mall and one hour became almost 4 hours and 5 stores.  Heaven only knows how many sweaters and shirts and at least 30 pairs of jeans were tried on.  I think a size should be standard.  It is frustrating to find smalls that are too big and larges that are too small.  And on the whole, jeans are not made for short curvy girls.  It seemed that every style was too long, too tight, or too big around the waist.  Apparently, I should have been made straight up and down,  or I should want to look like I work a street corner.  Neither is true.

I did finally come home with a pair of good all around wear everywhere jeans and I did find a replacement to my ratty white sweater.  I even bought a pair of skinny jeans to wear with those boots I am so enamored with.  I hope I have some more clothes budget soon because spring colors were already in the stores and they were calling my name.  I was not prepared for impractical today, but I liked the look of the riot of colorful jeans with funky flats and long tailed shirts.

Even though I spent a good deal of the day frustrated by choices of style and fibers and prices, I bought things that were a little bit out of my hum drum comfort zone of clothes.   I tried on things that I wasn't sure about and loved them, and found that once they were on, I didn't really like the things I thought I would.  I even went to stores I have never been.

Not a bad day, but it is definitely Jack's turn to have a day out without Bell.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Irresolute

It seems wrong to have no resolutions for the coming year . . . But I just don't.  I couldn't quite come up with any one thing that I am not already working on.

Health and fitness?  That is not a new resolution, but a continuance from the past four years.

Cooking better?  Same answer.

Being a better teacher? Wife? Mother? Again, the same.

I suppose I am more an immediate project person.  I start almost every break with a list of projects to be done and they typically get done.  We didn't get my Christmas break list done this year, but that had more to do with weather than lack of  purpose.

I have goals.  I want to get my blue berries, black berries, and asparagus moved from Loco to here in the next month.  I want to start some pepper and tomato plants from seed. I want to build raised beds. I want . . . Well there are a lot of yard/garden/house things I hope to get done in the next year, but they are all dependent on Jack's free time and extra money to do them with.

All of this is well and good, but there are on-going things I really must work harder at.  Exercise.  Finding time for Jack to have to himself.  Finding time for myself.  Finding time for us.  Being more organized in helping Bell do her homework but also making her take more responsibility for that and other things.

Perhaps the most pressing thing is to spend more time with Jack's parents.  Harold worries me as does Rubilee.  I want us to have all the memories we can with them.  Even though we are right next door, Bell and I don't see them that much.  Not good.  Not good at all.

I suppose as wishy washy as it sounds, we just need to present.  That is what we need for this coming year.  But specific resolutions?  Not so much.