Gardening for Children's Imaginations

They aren’t here yet.  But they will be.  The grandchildren, I mean.  Already I can hear them: their sweet laughter, their calling.  “Nonni, come outside!  Let’s play!”  Okay then. 

I decided to get the garden ready.  You better have portals to fairyland established if you wish to entertain Those Able To Go There.  You should have a place where action figures can launch themselves so that they can save the world.  There should be a roving elf, who is in a different place each time they come.  And crystals in the dry stream bed?  Obligatory!

First we made a dry stream bed out of rocks, and I’ve been collecting rocks from our travels.  There are rocks from King Arthur’s castle at Tintagel in Cornwall, England.  There are rocks from the Koenigsee, Germany, where one can see the alps and imagine knights on horseback defending the realm.  There’s rocks from the North Cascades mountains, where Hudson’s Bay mountain men trapped and explored.  There’s one from the Middle Fork of the Salmon River, Idaho, where I got swept under a waterfall and lived to tell.  Magic?  Yessiree. 

In case they want to go mining for crystals, I brought back bags from the gift shop of the Museum of the Rockies in Bozeman, MT.  Pink and purple crystals that they can find and hold up to me and say, “Lookit what I found, Nonni!”  “That means you get three wishes!” I will say.  It will be taken home to live on their bookshelf.  Formulating lifelong wishes with it in the dim glow of their nightlight, who knows what might come true?

There are special flat rocks there in case we are called to have tea parties some soft summer day.  We can learn about hospitality and being kind.  We’ll sit on the rocks with our teddy bears and talk about who we might want to have visit us and what we will share with them. 

Of course there is a cliff built into the riverbank if some action figures need to jump off it, swim down the river and save the world.  

We can learn about bravery, bullying, and fears and what we can to do banish them from our kingdom.  What the word integrity might mean.

There’s a stump from a loved birch tree that one can stand on and be transported into lands I’ve never even imagined.  I’ll let them tell me where, who inhabits it, and what the rules are.  If any.

There’s daffodil bulbs planted, because in their bells are where the fairies live.  Don’t believe me?  I have it on the best authority.  A kindergarten boy I knew once told me.  We have lily of the valley too, because those ring.  Ears that can hear Santa’s sleigh bells can certainly hear white coral bells.  

The two gnarly apple trees in the backyard have faces pounded into them.  The moss even now is growing around them. One is an Old Man of the Woods who smiles knowingly, and the other is an Enchantress.  The little children who live next door love to look at them and point them out every time they come over.

  

I can’t wait for the grandchildren to come over too.  It will be awhile.  We only found out recently they are coming.  Here’s a picture of the moment.  A bit blurry, because Father-To-Be who took the picture was jumping around.  The Mother-To-Be is in the middle of the couch.  The due date is November.

The fairies told me they are excited too.

The Ferris Wheel of Life

I recently lost a bet.  I don’t usually make bets, but this time I KNEW I was right.  Nope.  Wrong!  The result was that I owed my friends a dinner, so I don’t really think I lost too much.  We had a great time.

We picked up the other couple from the ferry terminal when they came across from Winslow.  Then headed to Seattle’s new Ferris wheel, called The Great Wheel, like London’s Eye.  The Eye is a little taller, but the Great Wheel is still tall in its own right, and thrilling.  We went on a perfect early autumn evening, still light enough to see everything.  Up we soared to look west over Elliot Bay and Puget Sound.  The ferry boats were chugging in, cruise ships were sailing out, para-sailors were soaring around the waterfront, and diners and city dwellers were getting ready for a perfect Seattle evening.  

Sunshine along the waterfront in Seattle is a cherished commodity.  Up and down, around and around, out over the water, then back up to look at the city from on high.

Afterward we went over to the waterfront of Alki, where we had a picnic and looked back at the city skyline.  Our daughter and her husband joined the four of us.  

They are expecting our first grandchildren (yep, twins!).  We ate chicken, macaroni salad, and coleslaw, like you do on picnics.  Even the dog got a little chicken.  But then he deserved it, bless him.  It is not easy for one-year-old Viszlas to be so well behaved.  Rewards were flying at him.

As the evening deepened, we laughed a lot, watch the lights of the city blink on, and covered up under wool blankets.  We drew closer and looked out farther.  The Viszla got to come up on his papa’s lap.  The pregnant daughter put her feet up.

Speaking of riding around and around on a Ferris wheel, it is fun to watch this new life come to my daughter.  After being pregnant with her, watching her be born, and then growing up, now she in turn is becoming a mother.  Up and soaring, the view from here is pretty grand.

Eatin' Pretzels at the Stammtisch

In Germany there are certain tables at pubs and biergartens called “Stammtisch”.  NOBODY is allowed to sit at them unless you belong to the Stammtisch.  Ever.  Period.  The club owns the table, and often has special steins with members’ names elaborately painted on them.  When members are not present, the steins are locked up in a display cabinet.

I had no idea this sort of thing existed, and might have been in peril of being asked to move had I sat at such a table.  So when we went to a monastery and were given lunch, I thought nothing of sitting at the big round table in the corner with the other local couples that went with us on the small private tour.  I don’t speak much German, the guide spoke little English, but through my husband and his sister, who speak both languages, we found out about the highly unusual treat we were being given of sitting at a Stammtisch.  Our guide’s husband belonged to the Stammtisch and got special permission to host us there.  He showed us his beautiful stein, and he and his wife Anita (our guide) provided a lunch for us, including pretzels, fresh horseradish, butter, homemade pickles, cheeses, smoked ham and cold cuts.  A real German afternoon, full of warm camaraderie, good food, and admiration for special steins.

Finding warmth among strangers overseas, even when they don’t speak the same language, or being given special permission to enter “The Club” or Stammtisch, is a joy one finds in international travel.

But how do we achieve this at home?  How can we get those pesky politicians to start talking to one another?  How do we stop the bickering and start the forward progression of the Union those men at Gettysburg laid down their lives for?

Recently my daughter, a fifth grade teacher, posted a question on Facebook about favorite music groups.  She wanted to know what her friends considered the best intro to a song, gave them some choices, asked for other opinions, and finished up her post with a one word sentence she probably uses every day: “Discuss.”

The super-power she wields daily in the classroom to get her students talking is as magnificent as Thor’s hammer or Superman’s cape.  She simply said: “Discuss.”  And her friends on Facebook did, she had lots of comments.  I mused that she could go tell that to the jihadists.  “Discuss!”

So in this time of political inflammation, with certain catch phrases like “47%” and “Healthcare” acting like mosquito bites, let us not forget the soothing cream of discussion.  Let’s invite everyone to our Stammtisch, whether they speak the same language or not.  “Discuss!”

Don’t forget the pretzels.

Roses and Thorns

A cocker spaniel named Flossie was out walking with her people in a field in Cornwall, England.  The ground was squishy from a recent rain, but Flossie was enjoying the walk and ran barking though the grass, smelling sheep and a flushing out a partridge.  Coming over a rise, her people called her frantically.  A bull was in the field.  He pawed the ground, tossed his head and snorted. 

The people fled toward the gate, calling Flossie to run after them.  But Flossie didn’t run, she stood her ground and waited for the bull.  As was his habit, he charged after the people, but skidded to a stop in front of Flossie, who did not move.  Flossie’s people stopped running and stood still, anticipating the horror of watching their beloved pet being gored and flung into the air.

The bull snorted and thrust his horns at her.  Flossie reached up and licked his shiny nose.

Whatever the bull was angry about, he forgot it.  He wandered off, and Flossie trotted after her people.  They praised her to the skies, but she had simply done what dogs do best. 

A U.S. Army Reservist I know had her drill weekend a few days ago.  Afterward, she decided to join some friends going to an evening church service, and did not have time to go home to change out of her uniform.  Inspired by the sermon, they group of friends was walking to a nearby restaurant to grab some dinner, when they came across a homeless man clanging on a pot with a wooden spoon.  The homeless man was obviously annoying a young man who was a patron of a nearby restaurant. He had left his table at the sidewalk café and was berating the homeless man to quit banging on the pot.

When the annoyed diner spotted the Army Reservist in her uniform, he hollered at her: “Hey, aren’t you going to do something about this?  Get this guy to stop.  He’s being a pain in the butt and I’m trying to eat.”

The Reservist calmly walked up to the pair.  The homeless man beat on his pot a few more times.

“Sir,” said the Reservist to the young diner, “it seems to me that you have a good meal waiting for you, a warm car to get into, and money in your wallet to take you anywhere else in the city. This man does not. ”

The Reservist reached for her wallet and gave the homeless man $5.

The diner sputtered and the homeless man continued beating his pot with a spoon, but as the Reservist and her friends left, so did the diner.

Albert Schweitzer said: “Very little of the cruelty shown by men can reall be attributed to cruel instinct.  Most of it comes from thoughtlessness or inherited habit." 

Peacekeeping forces must deal with thoughtlessness and inherited habit throughout the globe, yet the strongest and most compelling change can only come from within.  So I salute these forces which serve with all the passion and love attributed to the rose, yet remain likewise armed with thorns.