Among the Natives

My daily travels in New Jersey take me on a well-worn path from home to school and baseball games.  I am mostly able to avoid traffic and long drives and it's easy for me to forget how densely populated this state actually is.  And then I go to the grocery store on the weekend and I am reminded all over again.

Last weekend, my weekly shopping had to wait until early on Sunday afternoon.  From the moment I arrived in the parking lot it was clear that everyone else in New Jersey had also waited to shop on Sunday.  It was raining and as I pulled up my hood to walk through the parking lot, I heard a couple bicker over who should hold their umbrella.  The trip went down hill from there.

In the produce aisle, my first stop, I came across two women who looked enough alike that I took them for sisters.  The tall sister was pushing the cart.  The shorter one was complaining.  Broadly.  About everyone in her family and every thing they'd ever done.  I took my leave of this unhappy duo and headed over to the deli counter.

At the deli counter, I drew number 25.  They were serving number 8.  I tucked my cart into corner and went for bread and JT's favorite breakfast muffin before returning to find an entire area so cluttered with carts that no one could get through.  Why it is that we (and by we, I mean the shoppers of this state) park our cart in the middle of the aisle while perusing the selves?  This is not a shopping strategy suited to the fact that the stores are busy and the world does not revolve around us.  But never mind, one elderly lady was determined to cut through the crowd.  While another shopper and I watched on with increasing horror, the little old lady used her cart like a battering ram, slowly pushing everyone's cart out of her way and into other people so that she could get through the aisle.   A few seconds later, her fellow shoppers turned back to the aisle to find their carts relocated.  The chaos had been made worse.  Thanks, Grandma!

This, of course, is my biggest grievance about going to Wegmans (or any grocery store) on the weekend.  Of course it's busy, but we could certainly be kind toward one another.  Politeness and decency are free, after all.  Alas…..

I headed over to the dairy section, where calm heads rarely prevail.  The cranky duo came back into my hearing.  Shorty's complaining showed no sign of easing.  I would hear these two on two more occasions, the final one in the pasta aisle.  At this point, the complainer was louder than ever, announcing to everyone within her path that "they can eat the dinner I make for them or they can cook their own dinner."  As she practically shouted this pronouncement, I made eye contact with another shopper, a middle aged man pushing a cart like the rest of us.  He raised his eyebrows as the complainer loudly proclaimed her unhappiness and I smiled a rueful smile.  Then we exchanged a few comforting words with one another, agreeing that dinner at her house sounded as distinctly unpleasant as she was.

I got $5 that the dude isn't from around here.

In My Native Condition

Summer is coming.  I can feel it right down to my toes.

Garden 2013

This year's summer garden is now in the soil.  I had the seeds on hand and got tomato and herb plants on Saturday, with plans to plant on Sunday.  The forecast for Sunday called for early morning rain and then clouds the rest of the day.  It's an old gardeners' tale that you should plant on a cloudy day and so I was satisfied that conditions were nearly perfect.  I awoke on Sunday to rain and cool temperatures.  I figured that I'd wait until late morning for the rain to stop.  At 10 am, even as the Weather Channel assured me there was zero chance of continued precipitation, a light rain kept falling.  I wanted to plant anyway and threw caution to the wind, planting as the Spring rain fell around me.  Now the job is done and I couldn't be happier.

One of the reasons I garden is that it reminds me to be patient; to understand that some things take time and are well-worth the wait.  A summer garden is the perfect example of that lesson and I enjoy the process of getting one in the ground. 

 Every January the seed catalogs arrive and I start thinking about what I will plant.  This year, I knew that I would have some extra space in my garden; the result of a new fence and the removal of loads of ivy.  That meant that I could plant even more vegetables and flowers.  There are some things that I always plant: tomatoes, herbs, zinnias, onions, and carrots are usually somewhere in my garden.  They are present this year, of course.  I always try a few new things (or things I haven't planted in a while).  This year, that includes spaghetti squash, which I've never planted.  I also planted two types of cucumbers and both green peas and sugar snap peas.  All of them have been part of my garden in previous seasons and are getting another trial this year.

I'll be watching closely over the next 10 days as the seeds begin to germinate.  Next comes the weeding and the mulching.  A garden in process is a daily reminder of the virtue of patience.  I'm looking forward to this summer's lessons.

Sleeping Weather

One of the reasons I enjoy Spring and Fall is because of the milder overnight temperatures that arrive with seasonal change.  When the nights are cool, but not cold, I can sleep with the windows open.  I hear the sounds of the night as I pull up the covers and drift off to sleep.  I call this sleeping weather and it always finds me longing for a sleeping porch.  I make do with the large windows in my bedroom, opening them wide to bring the night inside.

Come Spring, I enjoy awakening to the sounds of birds chirping their morning greetings.  On school days there isn't much time to linger and listen.  That's an activity for weekends.  On weekends, I almost always awaken at the time I get out of bed during the weekdays but then get to I roll over and fall back asleep to the birds' songs.  This weekend we've enjoyed near-perfect sleeping weather.  On Sunday morning there was even a light rain to keep me and the birds company.  

I live in a small town in a heavily populated state and though I wouldn't say it's loud, there is often the sound of traffic or mowers; of lives being lived.  Quiet mornings with only the sounds of nature are always a welcome blessing.

Toilet Whisperer

Sassafras House is more than 80 years old.  I've lived here for eight years and over that time I've come to recognize the sounds of impending plumbing troubles.  As a consequence of some of those troubles, there is new plumbing in some parts of the house.  Both toilets are relatively new, but even so, toilets around here get clogged with what I would characterize as an alarming frequency.  It's not every month or anything like that, but it's often enough that I always know where the toilet plunger is located.

Earlier this week, the downstairs toilet made some noises that caused me anxiety.  I couldn't identity a specific problem, it was just that the sound of the water flushing wasn't quite right.  So I was on alert.

Yesterday morning, the alert rang loud and clear when I tried to flush the toilet.  Instead of the sound of water swishing away, the toilet made an unpleasant gurgle.  I got the water shut off just as the toilet filled to the brim.  A clog.  And if there is anything better than a clogged toilet, it's a clogged toilet at 6:20 in the morning.  I followed my plumber's advice from previous clogs and headed to the basement for a listen to the soil pipe.  I could hear just a bit of water trickling downward; enough to conclude that the clog was close at hand.  I headed back upstairs with my plunger and some towels in hand.

Less than five minutes later, the clog was cleared and we were back in business.  I was reminded yet again to honor my instincts and watch that toilet like a hawk when it's making the wrong sounds, lest I find myself with a toilet crisis flowing onto the floor.  Internet, I've become a toilet whisperer.

Seeds-a-Plenty

Come hell or high water, the garden is being planted this weekend.  There will be tomato and herb plants.  I'm of a mixed mind when it comes to peppers, since I never meet with much luck when I do plant them.  But cucumbers, spring onions, and spaghetti squash are a go.  There will be beans and peas and trellis supports to enable them to flourish.  And there will be zinnias; armfuls of zinnias.

That's so very happy.

Lush and Green

Though we had overnight temperatures that dipped into the low 30s earlier this week, it's clear that Spring is finally here to stay.  My grass has reached the stage where I really need need to mow the lawn more than once a week.  My obligations, of course, have not reached the stage when I can mow more than once a week.  The grass is thick and full when I get out the lawn mower each week but my elderly mower has risen to the challenge.

At this time of the year, the early evening light in the May sky is often heartbreakingly beautiful, clear and glowing as the sun sets into the horizon.  Heat and humidity have yet to settle in and there is often just enough warmth left in the late day to warrant some time spent outside.   From the back deck, I can see my backyard bunny as he moves from the hedges into the bank of hostas that grow along the garage.  There is plenty of foliage for him to enjoy.  When I sit on the front porch I can practically watch the grass grow.  Aside the front steps, my rhododendron plants have begun to bloom.  

There are enough buds to ensure that new purple flower is ready to greet me every day, a harbinger of the Summer that waits just around the corner.

A List of 12

For the past year, T and I have been idly maintaining a list of the states we might move to when our time in New Jersey is through.  I like New Jersey well enough, of course, but it is expensive to live here and neither of us is native to this heavily over-populated region.  We'd both like to live in the quiet woods some day and we need some woods that are affordable.  Some of this is idle-daydreaming, of course, but that's a lovely thing to do and so we indulge.

When this activity first began, loads of states were in the list.  Some were clearly places I favored thanks to my fondness for sweet tea, thick accents, and magnolia blossoms  (looking at you, Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina).  Some were places that are known to be friendly to gays.  That would not be Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina, but did include places like Washington and Vermont.

In the last year, as support for same-sex marriage rights have exploded, it's become increasingly clear that the only sensible choice is to consider states where we can enjoy a full complement of legal rights.  That's a happily ever-expanding list these days.  More to the point, the realization that some states really get it while others emphatically don't has meant that even including states where discrimination is still legal is a ridiculous notion.

See ya, Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina.  Welcome aboard, Maryland, Delaware, Rhode Island, and Minnesota.  It's a heady time for those of us interested in equality.  It's thrilling to see such progress, not only for the rights of my family and loved ones, but also for the hopeful sign it gives young people just coming to terms with who they are.  

The list of states looking out for equality includes plenty of places I would happily consider living.  Though it once seemed like a remarkable prospect, I now take such a circumstance for granted.  Twelve states, representing the homes of nearly one-fifth of the nation, actively protect the rights of all of us.  That's an impressive number and that it's likely to grow even larger is empowering.

Lucky Number 13

I tell everyone who will listen that on his first Mother's Day, JT outdid himself for a lifetime of Mothers' Days by laughing for the first time.  If I could have any gift on this day, it would be to relive that moment when my nearly 3 month old baby belly-laughed for the first time.

More laughter would be quite welcome these days.  My 13th year of motherhood has been rather a rough go, with adolescence in full-swing.  Long ago I learned to roll with the punches of a changing child but knowing that this too will pass isn't always comfort enough.  I always joke that I have two lists of worries:  the things I know I should worry about and the things it doesn't occur to me to worry about, but that I should also worry about.  7th grade has been proof of that theory.  

In the end, I think that is the real challenge of motherhood: understanding that uncertainty is the only certainty.  From infancy to toddlerhood and then adolescence, each year is a different parenting challenge.  This last one, with its roller coaster emotions, has been a reminder to me that even as a child seeks independence, the unwavering love of a mama is more-needed than ever.

So every day I take a moment to remind my boy that I love him with all of my heart and that I feel unbelievably lucky to have him in my world.  No matter how difficult the day has been, those facts are always true.

Real Life Conversations at School: Carnal Knowledge edition

The backstory:  While reviewing the 1st amendment and standards for obscenity in my American Government class today, it became clear that today's 17 year olds aren't exactly sure what the phrase carnal knowledge means.   I offer an explanation, invoking the relevant Supreme Court case (Miller v. California).  These kids are just days from their AP test and they are 4 school days away from being done with classes for the year.   A conversation about carnal knowledge at this juncture seems tricky.  I am wary.

Me:  Carnal knowledge means sex; sexual knowledge of another person.

Student A: Doesn't the C-K in f-u-c-k stand for carnal knowledge?

Me:  I don't know…..how about we move on to the next question?

Student A and all of his classmates:  No!  Let's look it up.

And out come the phones and computers so that they can ask Google about carnal knowledge.  This can't possible end badly.