Boy Scout Island Preserved

Across from the Gene Stratton-Porter State Historical site, where I'm restoring the gardens, is a 100-acre island accessible only by boat and surrounded by wetlands. The Nature Conservancy owns one of the wetlands, Swamp Angel, which is closed to all but scientists because of the number and diversity of plants, such as the carnivorous pitcher plant.

The island was owned by the Boy Scouts for many years and there are a few remnants of their buildings. Men visiting the site will often reminisce about their time on the island. The Boy Scouts sold the island to a developer who has been trying to build a bridge over the wetlands in order to develop this pristine site.

The good news? The lake association purchased the island and will preserve it. I'm not sure of the role of the site in the island's future, but my view from the garden, past the house, across the lake, will continue to be pristine beauty.

Two Thumbs Up

When I walked to my car Friday in the rain, this little guy was scampering across the driveway. When the monster Earth Girl got near, he reared up on his hind legs, but how frightening can a creature be who lives in my Lady's Mantle?

Sugar Bush Wrap-Up

The sap is still flowing but is no longer good for making maple syrup and Sugar Bush is finished for the year. Here are some pictures from my experience this year.

On the last day, the woods were full of Harbingers of Spring, Erigenia bulbosa, also known as Pepper and Salt.













Sugar Bush Larry explains to a school group how the sap is boiled down into syrup.











Everything is powered with wood, from the evaporator to the steam whistle to the griddles for frying pancakes.












Here's Earth Girl showing them how to tap a tree using a brace and bit. One 5th grader told me, "It's like heaven in a tree."

Driving Lessons

We bought the boys a car Monday evening, their grandmother's lavender Taurus. The boys call it purple. Will they be traumatized for life?

The next evening, I took Ricky out to practice as he only has his driver's permit and has not had much driving time with the snow and ice. I marveled at how well he did, making corrections before I had a chance to say anything.

When we got home, he started to turn the car around and I assumed he was backing it into the WIDE spot designated for it. But no, he started backing across the parking pad. I calmly asked what he was doing and he grinned. He kept backing. I warned him about the Jeep and Vibe. He kept backing. I yelled for him to stop. He GRINNED and kept backing. I screamed for him to stop when he hit the Vibe.

He denied hitting the Vibe until I showed him lavender paint on the orange car and orange paint on the lavender car.

Later, after he went to bed, I started thinking about it and realized he was just practicing cool teenage boy moves, backing into a tight spot. Unfortunately, his car would not even fit where he was headed. Good judgement is not his strong suit. I went into his room, sat on his bed and shared with him my thoughts about how all teenage boys back into parking spots. He jumped up, gave me a bear hug and said, "You understand, Mom." We decided that backing lessons are next, using the garbage cans and not my new car.

First Birthday

My great-niece, Emily, turned one last Saturday and celebrated by eating cake for the first time.










Then she sang and danced with a karaoke microphone. A good time was had by all.

Spring Mire

Yesterday about 50 second grade students came to the Sugar Bush. After participating in 4 teaching stations and eating a pancake and sausage lunch, we headed into the woods to collect sap.

These children were not too experienced in the woods. Despite a strongly worded and illustrated take-home paper on how to dress, only a third of them wore boots. And a mother showed up in WHITE pants.

With the snow melt and rains, the ground was muddy. No, that is an understatement. A significant portion of the woods was a sinking, sucking, smooshy mire. Now that can be fun with the proper attire and mindset.

I discovered one little boy filling his sap bucket with standing water. I asked what he was doing. He said that sap was mostly water, so he found an easy way to fill his bucket. I can't imagine if he had poured that mess into the collecting tanks that feed the evaporator.

Another volunteer heard a little boy screaming for help. He walked over and found him with his arms wrapped as far as possible around a tree, standing on its root bulge in his socks. He walked right out of his sneakers when they stuck in the mud. The volunteer rescued the boy's shoes, which the boy grabbed and ran to the outbuildings as fast as he could.

March Bloom Day

What's blooming in my garden in the middle of March? The species crocus in shades of yellow, purple, white, cream (below) and lavender. The snowdrops hidden in the fence row. The pussywillows are just emerging.

Then I had to search to find other blooms: maple tree, moss, and fungus.

Garden Shoes

Carol over at May Dreams Gardens issued a garden shoe challenge. It's taken me several days to respond to the challenge because I had to get some of these shoes dirty outside first. I have a lot of "gardening shoes" (these aren't all) because I tend to ruin shoes by walking outside just to admire the garden and then digging in. So here are my shoes and I'm sure The Manolo wouldn't approve.


I wore the green and leather boots today when I was cleaning up and I wear the Crocs in the hot summer. I'm constantly kicking soil out of the Crocs and my feet end up filthy.






The moccasins are an easy pair of shoes to slip on when I need more support. The tall boots helped me collect maple sap last weekend but they usually live in the Garden Shed at the site.






These Bass shoes have served me well for about 15 years but finally developed a little leak. They are insulated and are good for early and late gardening.






Finally, these Sas shoes have seen many hours in the garden and are my favorite pair when I'm using a shovel. They remind me of Gertrude Jekyll's boots and that's why I love them.

Days of Spring

How have I spent these first few days of spring weather? Steve and I spent them in a maple woods gathering sap (it's flowing fast and furious now), finding bright red fungus (it looked like plastic) and a very large bird skull (probably an owl). I potted up some caladiums and begonias I overwintered, but am getting a very late start on seeds. I checked the ground to see if I could start planting some early crops, but it is still frozen solid. The snow melt revealed a lot of our dog's treasures in the yard, which are now in the garbage.

We went to the Boys' Club Saturday night on the river and trudged down to stare at the water. It is flowing in the center but there are still sheets of ice along the banks. I had great fun in breaking off big sheets of ice with a long stick and sending them into the current to watch where they crashed. After watching a few minutes, Steve said, "I've got to find a stick!"

Ricky grabbed my hand and pulled me outside yesterday to show me the almost blooming crocus. What a thrill that some of my joy about gardening has rubbed off on my sons.

Spring Weather

It is finally reaching the 50s today. The birds are singing and the sun is shining. After book club this morning, I'm going to check the woods to see what's up. I suspect I will only see the garlic mustard and will plan my spring attack against this invasive weed. I'm curious to see how much progress I've made over the past five years. With the sun shining in my east windows, I may also break out the window cleaning supplies so I can see out. How did they get so dirty since Christmas?

UPDATE: Just came in from the woods, the snow covered woods. So even with 50 degree temps today, I'll have to wait a few more days before I can survey the woodland wonders. The birds are still out in full force though. Do I really have to move to Plan B, window washing?

Sisters

Today I received a treasure in the mail. My Uncle Sandy (for Sandford) sent me this photo of his parents and sisters along with this characteristic humorous note: "A while back I promised you a family picture. I guess Joan to be four years old putting the picture about 1930, probably in a studio in Warsaw. Since I wasn't born yet, the details are a little vague."


Uncle Sandy is the only surviving sibling. My mother is the middle girl in the back. If you knew her, you would recognize her instantly. Judging from my grandmother's hairstyle and dress, I think 1930 is about accurate. My grandmother and Aunt Mary (the first girl in the back row) were both freckled red-heads, but Mom and Aunt Joan (last girl in the back) had their father's coloring. Aunt Marjory, in the front row, was their half sister.

Home and Garden Show

The presentation went just fine and no one asked about my raccoon eyes. There was a nice turnout, despite the fact that the "room" was the curtained-off end of a cold dark hallway half a mile (not really) from the show. Oh, and they replaced the projector so the colors were true on the slides.

It was fun to meet Kylee and her Mom, although I didn't have much time to talk. She has a nice post about the show on her blog. While I walked around for several hours after the talk, I wasn't engaged. Too much adrenaline. I did buy several packets of seeds, dahlia bulbs and liliums for the site from the Master Gardener booth.

My niece brought her two youngest, Caleb and Morgan. Caleb slept through the talk, but Morgan was engaged. It's interesting what a kindergartner absorbs. She really honed in on the fact that Gene Stratton-Porter died in a car accident. She asked me about it after the talk and then she reported to her grandmom (my sister), "That woman died in a car accident." Her other grandmother recently had a car accident, which was probably why it made such an impact on her.

My niece, bless her heart, asked if it was possible to volunteer in the garden. I didn't even plant that question! And several people I worked with years ago saw my name and decided to attend. They said they were going to show up for the volunteer work day on April 21. Yippee! One of my goals is to develop an active volunteer program at the site.

I went with Renee and we had a nice lunch at Panera's before the show and made plans to take several short garden trips this spring. Any suggestions for day trips? My list includes the Chicago Botanic Gardens and T.C. Steele garden in Brown County. This has been an interesting process, since it started when I asked if she wanted to go on a 2-week trip to England with Purdue Master Gardening staff. Then we decided to cut the cost and time with a trip to Butchart Gardens in Vancouver with Elderhostel. Now we are talking about a series of day trips.

What a week!

Want to hear about it?

Maple Syruping
The school groups have descended, from kindergarten to 5th graders. The sap will be running heavy today since the days are warmer. Someone asked in the comments about the taste of sap. Since there is a 40 to 1 water to sugar ratio in sap, it tastes like very weak maple syrup, or more like barely sweet water. I observed the tapping last Thursday and the guy who was leading the group started to tap an oak tree until the owner of the camp spotted him from across the camp and ran to him yelling, "Stop! Stop!" I taught classes on Friday and Monday without incident. Except I ran into a tree branch and scratched my eye.

Swollen Eyes
I am speaking tomorrow at the Home and Garden Show and my eye is still swollen and red. I don't think makeup will help. My plan is to dazzle them with my smile and bold hand gestures so they don't notice my eyes. You know, kind of like a magician.

Presentation Woes
My computer gave up the ghost this week. It should be repaired by tomorrow, but tomorrow's presentation isn't complete plus I needed Internet access to complete a freelance job. I was able to get the boys' computer hooked to the Internet with only one call to the cable provider, but the printer plug doesn't fit. Nor does it fit the two laptops in the house. I definitely need to print my notes to the presentation, so I might borrow a computer or see if I can print at the library. Another woe: we had access to the projector yesterday to test our presentations and the projector distorted the colors. Blues are purple and browns/oranges are yellow. The AV team tried to convince me it was OK but when showing pictures of plants, it doesn't work. I'll find out tomorrow if it is corrected. Otherwise, I need to allot an additional ten minutes for saying, "This is really blue/white/yellow/orange." I also have to cut some more time from the presentation or else there will be no Q&A time.

Minor Stuff
Last night I put a deep slice in the end of my thumb with the chef's knife. The coffeepot stopped working. I never made it clothes shopping so I'm not sure what I'm wearing.

Oh, a couple posts ago, I wrote about how I was going to count my blessings. Let me think. I was able to work around most of the issues so far. The pears I canned are delicious. I like my new car. School hasn't been cancelled this week. I'm almost finished with Team of Rivals for book club next week and it is fascinating but long. Hubby has great stories every day from student teaching, which I can't share. Except this one: He was grading a test last night and one 5th grader wrote about the mid-evil period. You know, Europe between the 5th and 16th century. Right after the early-evil period and before the late-evil period.

Come hear my talk

Are you curious about the restoration of the gardens at the Gene Stratton-Porter State Historic Site? If so, you have an opportunity to hear me speak about this topic on Friday, March 2, at 1 PM at the Allen County Home and Garden Show.

Now why would I encourage more people to come? Because I want some friendly faces in the audience! I'm finishing the slide presentation with historic photos of the garden as well as photos of the spring wildflowers.

Pileated Woodpecker

As I joined my husband on the front porch this sunny morning (before the freezing rain hits), he motioned me to be quiet and pointed to a pileated woodpecker in the north woods. As we watched and listened to the thrumming, the woodpecker would stop, cock his head, and then throw it back, like he was tossing an insect into his gullet. I didn't have my camera, but later I took this photo of the extremely large hole he created in a black cherry tree.


In the last Audubon count, there were two sighted in in our area. We see them several times a year. This is good news because over a hundred years ago, they were considered extinct or rare in Indiana. This information about pileated woodpeckers was published in 1890s in Birds of Indiana.

Formerly tolerably common resident; now extinct in many localities and rare in all others. Breeds. None have been seen in Franklin County for twenty years or more, and probably none are now to be found in the Whitewater Valley. It has been reported as present, but rare, in the following counties within the past few years: Monroe (Evermann, Blatchley), Vigo (Jenkins), Dekalb (McBride), Porter (Trouslot), Decatur (Shannon), Starke (Coale, Dury), Allen (Stockbridge), Gibson and Knox (Ridgway). Many are the interesting accounts given of these birds by the older citizens, who knew them as "Logcock," "Black Woodcock" and "Woodcock."

My uncool life is cool!

I've been convinced (or convicted) this week to evaluate my life. No life shattering events, just unintentional urgings by readers of this humble blog. Hey, maybe I'm getting ready for Spring.

First, I posted that my Vibe is uncool. But two harbingers of cool contradicted me: Renee, one of my coolest friends, and Ricky, my teenage son who has a finely honed sense of cool. Why did I think it wasn't cool? Is this how I think of any car I would drive?

Second, I'm having fun (and working hard) teaching children how to tap maple trees. A request for volunteers went out to Master Naturalists and I decided to do it. It is close to where I live. The owner of the woods is a dear friend from church in her late 80s. I needed a push to get outside this winter. And it is something I've never done before. Then Lucy comments, "For what its worth, I think you have a really fabulous life :)" Thank you, Lucy. Your comment was worth a lot as it prompted me to give thanks for the many ways I am blessed.

Third, I considered seriously taking a corporate job, lured by the paycheck and benefits. I reconsidered, especially when my husband urged me to weight those benefits against the quality of my life, and turned down the job. When a friend heard about this, she wrote in an email, "I can’t tell you how secretly (and now, not so secretly) happy I am that you said no to that job. It seems to me that in declining that position, you also made the decision not to participate in corporate slavery again. Part of it’s selfish – I like having you around to play with – and part of it is truly seeing a more joyful, fully engaged woman who is spreading her many talents around more fully." I'm deep in the woods of my life, seeing only the trunks of the trees and haven't taken the time to see the forest. Thank you, friend, for giving me a fresh perspective on my life.

Finally, I read this post by Lucy.

Today, my worst problem is going to be ... hmmm ... maybe bad hair. MAYBE a child will be cranky with me, give me attitude. Maybe a child will use all the tape to cover her desk. (These are not unheard of problems.) Maybe I'll get bad customer service at the restaurant I go to when I don't feel like cooking dinner. Maybe I'll have to get gas before I can run errands tonight.

But, in general? Its AMAZING to be me. Or probably "you" for that matter. Without knowing who you are, I know you have computer access. That says a lot about you. Like ... you have electricity. And ... you can read.

So. Take a moment. Really think about it. Yes, it IS fabulous to be us :) For those that want to keep it that way, here's a tip ... At our house we have a new rule: Do NOT answer the phone on Wednesdays!

Vibes

We picked up a new car today, rather an additional used car. For me, not my sons. That makes four: Jeep Wrangler, Suburban, Ford pick-up and the new car. See a pattern? I live in an all-male household, males who like trucks and truck-like vehicles. Four wheel drive is an essential. Poor gas mileage is another constant.

So I figured out that I can pay for my new car with improved gas mileage, as it gets more than twice the gas mileage of the Suburban. Assuming gas remains about $2.30, I will save at least $1.15 for every mile I drive and the new car will be paid for in 10,000 miles, which won't take long for me. UPDATE: 10,000 miles? Did I type miles? I mean 10,000 gallons. I should break-even between 25,000 and 30,000 miles.

It's not a Buick LeSabre, but it's definitely not cool. It's a Pontiac Vibe and it is orange.

School Closings

School was closed two days due to snow last week.

The first day was idyllic. We were snug, warm and well-fed. Everyone pitched in willingly to clean the house after we put on some rocking music. It sparkled. We baked a Valentine's cake and played board games.

The second day was the polar (haha) opposite. Snow needed to be shoveled and driveways plowed. Teenage siblings snapped, complained and were generally teenagers. The sparkling house became less so as they tracked in and out.

The third morning, there was a school delay. Ron came into the computer room and told me they just announced a closing. My response was kind of a guttural groan, or perhaps a shriek. Anyway, it was purely emotional. I was so looking forward to having the house to myself again. Ron laughed and laughed because he was just kidding. He laughed about my reaction for several days.

School is closed again today due to heavy fog and icy roads. And the power went out for about an hour. The temperature in the house dropped 8 degrees in the hour. We have a generator to run the cornburner and a kerosene heater, but Steve had already left and I wasn't cold enough to have the confidence to set them up. I'm starting to thaw out again. At least enough for my typing fingers to work.

Maple Syrup Time

Tapping commenced this week. I'm volunteering at Yoder's Sugar Bush Camp this spring. I will demonstrate to numerous school children how to tap a tree. That should be interesting because I have never, you know, actually tapped a tree. But I've read about it and I saw it done. Does that count? Training was last week and I will spend tomorrow and Friday with school groups and then about once a week thereafter.

I love this picture of the girl drinking sap straight from the tree.

Soil

I have a love affair with soil. Sure, the blooms entice me into the garden and the foliage seduces me to remain there, but neither compare to the sensuousness of soil, especially early spring soil. The pungency. The sensations as I crumble it in my hands. The dark color.

Last summer, my husband and a community service worker built a three-bin compost site at the historic garden: one very large bin to hold the new stuff and two smaller bins to turn the compost as it ages. I can't wait to get my hands on the finished compost this spring to mulch the beds. Plus we will be using the compost bins to explain soil and composting to the school children when they visit on field trips.

So I am sorry I did not have a chance to read January's book selection for the Garden Bloggers Book Club, Teaming with Microbes: A Gardeners Guide to the Soil Food Web by Jeff Lowenfels and Wayne Lewis. Read the bloggers' comments here. This is definitely on my to-read list.

More: I meant to mention that the Renegade Gardener listed this book as his Top Pick this month. Also I want to attend this public conference at Merry Lea Environmental Center September 28-30.

Sacred Soil: Reclaiming the Source of Our Food

Each fall, Merry Lea holds a conference for people of faith who share a passion for the care of creation. Participants spend much of their time outside, exploring a theme that enables us to experience renewal and hope through an in-depth look at the way ecosystems function. This year's theme, Sacred Soil, will explore the truth about food. For many of us, even those of us who “know better,” food comes from the grocery store. It is a cheap commodity, manufactured by a corporation and produced in a factory like Happy Meal toys or rubber boots. In reality, food comes from the earth; it is grown in the soil and depends on the health of the soil. Soil is sacred because our lives depend on it, and because it was created by God. The registration fee of $75 includes six meals. Lodging available for $15/night upon request.

Weak in the knees

Sunday afternoon, we are alone, deep in the woods, next to the river, far from civilization. He turns to me and gives me a look. My legs go limp. I need something to keep me from crumpling at his feet. From his look, I know he is feeling the same way. As one person, we turn our gaze eastward.

Steve still has that effect on me, but this is not a Valentine's post. We had just spent an arduous afternoon cross-country skiing. I used my ski poles to hold myself up and we were looking at the car parked half a mile across the field.

Environmentally Sustainable Village

At the annual Master Gardener's banquet (I'm now a bronze level advanced Master Gardener), Dr. Luke Gascho from Merry Lea Environmental Center spoke about the recently completed Reith Village, a sustainable environmental and energy sufficient group of buildings. Phase one of the village includes three cottages and a classroom for students to study for their Masters in Environmental Education. Merry Lea is run jointly by Goshen College and the Nature Conservancy.

Reith Village was designed to meet the Platinum Standards by LEEDS. It hasn't been officially graded yet, but in two trial grades, it ranked platinum.

I found the presentation fascinating and it gave me some ideas for when (or if) we build at the Highlands, our tree farm. Follow the links if you are interested, but here are the highlights from the talk for me:

• A microwatershed contains all the drainage on the site, through the use of a 15,000 gallon cistern.
• The nonpotable water is pumped into the buildings to flush the toilets.
• They have an on site sewage system using a wetlands cell biofilter and a recirculating sand filter.
  
• The drive and parking lot are recycled concrete with grass overplanted to encourage drainage. The sidewalks are made of permeable concrete for natural drainage.
• The wind generator has a long payback period, 17 years, but it has an expected life span of 35 years.
  
• Local tulip poplar was used for siding and interior work
• 75% of construction debris diverted from landfills. (See the photo where they are spreading chipped-up leftover drywall on the lawn.)
• Roofline skylights open to let out heat in the summer to reduce cooling costs.
  

The presentation was much better than the website. I notice there is a tour this spring. I think I'll try to go. After all, my in-laws' farm borders part of Merry Lea's land.

Seeds to Syrup

I'm a little slow placing my seed order this year. I made a list of what I want to order and all I have to do is find them in the seed catalogues. Last year, I discovered Select Seeds and I found quite a few of the plants I want to grow in their catalog so far. This is such a pleasurable thing to do, what is taking me so long?

Tomorrow we are planning to go cross-country skiing for the first time since there will be a heat wave. It's reaching 21 degrees! Monday I'm being trained as a volunteer for Sugar Bush, a unique maple syrup program for school children. Then I need to wrap up my freelance project.

Colts Shirts

The excitment was reaching a feverish pitch last Sunday as the boys prepared to go to their respective Super Bowl parties. Having a Colts hat was not enough and I didn't have the supplies to paint their bodies, so they begged me at the last hour to go shopping to buy jerseys. Being a mean mommy, I said no. Then Ron had the idea of printing out pictures and pinning them to their clothes. I mentioned that you can buy computer transfer paper and create your own iron-on decals for shirts. So a quick run to Office Depot and we were in business.

I stood back and watched them in amazement. They haven't been interested in "crafts" for many years but they enjoyed this. I was also amazed at how quickly Ron picked up Photoshop: Layers, check. Image adjustment, check. Lasso tool, check. Text boxes, check. They created three t-shirts, one for each of them plus one as a gift for their host.

Tell me, what is the secret with teenagers? Why do they roll their eyes one day at such an activity and then feverishly engage in it another day?

Vision

While winter is not my favorite season, it is when I see the garden most clearly. Both as it is, its structure or bones, and as it will be, with the help of my large seed order. Sometimes there are surprises, such as

a bird's nest in the Japanese maple.

Ron received the call from his recruiter. He did not pass the physical due to severe flat feet. He choked back sobs as he told me of the call, the loss of his heart's desire. He is entering a winter season but he cannot see clearly yet. I resist feeding him my truths, truths I learned the hard way. I must allow him to feel these emotions, but soon I will point out the other paths that are waiting for him and perhaps he will look up and see something special

like an oriole's nest 80 feet up in the wild cherry.

Teaching responses

This morning I got my hair cut and restyled and somehow my gray hair disappeared also. I then exchanged a pair of slacks I bought my husband at a department store. While I was there, I got a phone call from my friend rescheduling our coffee date. So when I was asked if I wanted a makeover, the saleswomen seemed shocked when I said yes. I needed to buy new lipstick anyway and, with my new hairdo, it seemed the right thing to do. I found a lipstick and liner that I liked, so the time was well spent.

When my son saw me after school, he gasped in horror. My husband counseled him to remain noncommittal until you determine if the woman was pleased with the new hairstyle, makeup, clothes. She did go a little overboard on the eye makeup. What was "natural" to the makeup queen was shocking to my son (and to me.) I just scrubbed and lotioned (is that a verb?) my face and feel so much fresher.

Sports Frenzy

If you drove several hours south of my home, you would be in Indianapolis and several hours northwest lands you in Chicago. As you might guess, this town is divided between the Bears and the Colts. In fact, the Colts' coach suggested that the Super Bowl be held in Fort Wayne.

But the only division in our home is between the children and the parents. The parents don't care about sports (unless their child is playing) and the sons are avid fans of most sports. And their loyalty has been with the Colts for several years.

When Ricky came home from watching Sunday's playoffs with some friends, he was still frenetic. He ripped open his coat to show me his T-shirt. It was a white T-shirt that he had decorated with permanent marker, showing his support for the Colts. And it was totally ripped to shreds as part of the post-game celebration. (He refused to let me take a photo but did ask that I put the shirt in his memento box.)

Update on Ron's enlistment: He didn't pass his physical in December because of severe flat feet. He appealed and he had x-rays taken by the National Guard in early January. He didn't pass again. So they put in another appeal. We are now waiting. He has decided now to become a welder because "they start at $80,000 a year." Ah, reality will hit someday, Son.

MLK musings

I was struck by the truth of this and this post about how far we have come. The changes are slow and difficult to notice day-to-day, similar to the growth of your children and the sudden awareness that you are having an adult conversation with your teenager. Sure, we have much room for improvement, but we have come so very far.

I recall my mother telling me about entering an elevator in a local department store (Patterson Fletcher) in the early 50s. The black elevator operator told a black woman she had to get off the elevator because a white woman entered. Mom said it was OK, but the operator insisted, probably for fear of her job. Mom just nodded, got off the elevator along with the black woman, and walked up the stairs. What a woman!

I grew up in a segrated northern rural community, but we went into the city several times a month. I clearly remember waiting at a cross walk and noticing a dark hand at my eye level. I was three, perhaps four years old. I reached up and rubbed the hand. A woman laughed gently and, in a kind voice, said, "Chil' that don't rub off." That was my realization that people had different skin colors.

My parents "integrated" the small country church we attended. The men sat on the right and the women sat on the left. The first time my parents, newly wed after a long separation during WWII, entered the church, they glanced around, looked at each other, marched to the front of the church and sat together. No convention was going to separate them. The next Sunday, more young couples sat together and soon the separation of sexes was eliminated without any discussion. (And Dad sat on the women's side with his beautiful wife and infant daughter.)

National Guard Appeal

As I posted here and here, one son is trying to join the National Guard, but he has severe flat feet and they rejected him in December. He is in Indianapolis again today having his feet x-rayed as part of the appeal process. I have such mixed emotions. This is his heart's desire and he will be crushed and directionless if turned down. So if he comes home inducted, I'll cry, and if he comes home rejected, I'll cry. Either way, he doesn't need to see my tears, so my plan is to be strong and upbeat to encourage him.

Seventeen

We wrapped up 2006 and unwrapped 2007 since I last posted.

Our Christmas celebration was steeped in family traditions. While we no longer play with Hot Wheels, other traditions have emerged. A large family dinner with my family complete with a white elephant exchange. Buying a gift from our church's giving tree (tricycle to Ukraine this year). Communion and candlelight service late Christmas Eve. Stockings before breakfast. A china and crystal breakfast. Open gifts. Gather with hubby's family.

This year was a clothes (and a few electronics) year for the boys. Ricky strutted around in his letter jacket and Ron has worn his Komet Hockey jersey to about three games already. Ricky started reminiscing about gifts from the past, which pleased me greatly. When they were 9 years old, we sent them on a 3-county scavenger hunt for their own solo canoes. That was fun.

New chairs! Dining room chairs! To be delivered in about a month. The few wobbly chairs left from the set I bought in 1972 are almost beyond repair and certainly aren't holding up to the ploppy rocky actions of teenagers. We will refinish the table and I'm eyeing the walls and curtains for a makeover.

We brought in the New Year at home, perfect for Steve and I. Ron went to a sold-out hockey game with a friend and then stayed overnight. Ricky had talked about going to a party all week and that fell through, plus his ski trip was cancelled because of lack of snow. Oh, how hard it was to experience the extreme disappointment of a 17 year old at home with his family when he longed to be with friends. He spent the night working on his MySpace page and managing his playlists. It reminded me of a male version of the old Janis Ian song, Seventeen. It's easy to forget how deeply emotions are felt at that age.

It isn't all it seems
At seventeen