Simple pleasures

Simple, fleeting pleasures: a bottle of bubbles and a childhood summer afternoon of siblings enjoying each other's company.

Best garage sale find ever

Because I subscribe to the idea that a bargain is a bargain only if you can tell about it, I'm sharing my recent garage sale triumph. This glider was clothed in big, ill-fitting cushions (nice quality, but the type of cushions intended for modern patio chairs) when I first saw it at my neighbor's sale Saturday. I've wanted a glider forever, so when my neighbor said it was $5, I snapped it up. Five dollars! Only after making the puchase did I look closer, to see that what I thought was just a skeleton glider frame beneath those cushions was an actual stand-alone vintage aluminum piece. I was thrilled.

The kids and I attacked it with steel wool, and Jeff painted it my favorite color. I love the results. The only mishap was Samuel's climbing attempt, right after Jeff used the last of the paint, and we were cleaning up. His handprints will take on a charm of their own, I'm sure.

Oops. Samuel with Emma.

Optimism in the grocery store

Come with me on a weird look at how my mind works:

I don't know about time in a bottle, but today I bought optimism in a can.

It's called a 1.95-ounce container of fish food flakes -- the only size the nearest grocery store carries -- that you're buying to feed your sole surviving goldfish, when a 1-ounce can fed three, then two fish for the last 16 months.

Yep, that's optimism.

James got the fish for his birthday gift, back when he turned 4. Our first casualty happened sometime last summer. I expected the others to quickly follow suit, but they've amazed me with their staying power.

I've liked these little pets. The bowl is on the kitchen counter and I swear the fish swim toward me when I'm loading the dishwasher saying "Feed me! Feed me!" in their mime-ish way. The kids say all they do is swim, eat and poop -- but they also provide a way to cheer up Samuel when he cries. Want to feed the fish? we'll say, and he immediately brightens. Today I discovered our second casualty, and also that we were out of fish food (maybe the two are related?)

This meant another trip to the grocery store, our fourth this week. At least this time I wouldn't have to deny my kids' requests to buy overpriced bananas, Grandma Ann had already taken care of that.

Ann is our special 91-year-old neighbor. She is lively and mentally tip-top, with a stubborn desire to continue living on her own, a stubbornness that intensifies even as her physical abilities steadily decline. Still she loves life, and we love her. She reminds me in many ways of my dear Grandpa Earl, whom I still miss greatly, four Junes after he fell off a ladder.

Ann pulled in our driveway this afternoon on her "banana route," as she calls it, to drop us off a bunch. She likes to pick up extra bananas and distribute them to the youngsters on our street.

Grandpa Earl had an affinity for bananas, too. Every visit was another venue for him to lean forward, slyly tilt his head, and say, "You know, I never buy green bananas." He laughed every time. His health history of heart attacks and strokes belied his longevity. He completed crossword puzzles every day and at 88 still tended a huge vegetable garden grown not at all for himself, but so he could share with his family and friends. His death was a shock.

In the sorting weeks afterward we found his short grocery list written on a scrap of blue paper on the kitchen counter. The only item I remember is bananas.

Optimism takes many forms, I guess, as long as we have the promise of someone to care for and share it with.

Grandpa Earl, 88, and great-grandson James, 8 months. October 2004.

Air mail

Found on our road trip today:

Neither rain nor sleet

Nor 18 feet . . .




Well, I guess that's one way of dealing with rising postage costs.

Outside the box -- what do you think?

The national switch from analog to digital television signals has shaken up my household.

Using the lingo of all those endless commercials and public service announcements, my family was "unprepared" for the change. First off, (the horror!), we have but one TV. While it's a fairly new digital set (only one of our children is younger than it), we haven't been able to get the digital signals. We don't subscribe to cable or satellite or anything like that. I knew full well that once the analog signals were turned off on June 12, our box would wear nothing but black.

It's not that I'm anti-TV, despite my views that there's plenty of trash to be had on the airwaves. This broadcast change just wasn't much of a priority for me to pursue ahead of time. Besides, we're more rainy-day roof fixers around here. (That's why some of you may have seen Jeff climbing on the roof to clear drainspouts on Sunday.)

Call me "unprepared" if you must, for truly I was unprepared for the initial outcome.

My children have spent more time enjoying each other's company in the last three days than they have for quite a while. They've played basketball, set up board games, conducted scavenger hunts, read, written stories, compared catalog wishlists, harvested veggies, hunted bugs and otherwise used their delightful imaginations. And all of it together.

I'm suddenly more popular, too. My constant "TURN OFF THE TV!" battle-cry used to be unheeded, now it's unneeded. We've all been a little happier about that, I think.

While it wasn't my intent, this inadvertant experiment makes me really think we could be a TV-less household. DVDs would be more of a treat. We'd still have our computer to stay on the public pulse. Plus, there's always newspapers and radio. Jeff disagrees, however, saying that we NEED to have TV. He's already scheduled a service to start later this week. Personally I'd rather apply the cost of a monthly service to a vacation or swingset instead.

So here are my questions to you: Will I set my kids up for psychological scarring if they don't grow up with television? Will they be considered weirdos? Will they be the odd-man-out in important conversations about last night's show? (Hey, back in my day everybody watched the Cosby Show, but that was when there were only three channels.) Will my children -- gasp -- have school assignments to watch TV? Will I be the source of eternal embarrassment and bad grades? Will my son feel the need to move to a sports bar?

In short, will I deny my children benefits of TV that can be obtained no other way?

I do wonder if the Internet will develop the same power, immediacy and continuity that live TV has for the unfolding of such historic events as 9/11 and the last presidential election, two moments I soaked up in front of my set. It's so hard to know.

Jeff has also liked the increased camraderie with our children. He thinks we can strike the same balance, and solve our previous TV woes, by better enforcing rules for who can watch what and when. But that load falls mainly on me, and I don't like that battle.

Please let me know what you think. Dare I say, "Tune in . . . " for the results? No, too corny.

"Read all about it" instead?

Gardenzilla

Move over, grasshoppers! There's a new pest in town.

Samuel thinks he's such hot stuff when he climbs into our garden box, giving new meaning to the word squash. When you're the smallest one in the family, I guess it's nice to have a kingdom that makes you feel big. For the moment, that is . . .

If these seedlings survive my baby's treading treatment (and they will!), they will grow to their own monstrous proportions before I know it.

I'm so glad they grow faster than my baby. Still, he's growing fast, too fast, even.

And that is why I don't shoo him from the garden.

Mom's science fair project

James' stormy mood one day was mirrored in the window as he watched it rain.

Samuel

Name: Mom
Teacher: Life
Period: All day


Science Project Planning Worksheet
(Please fill out all areas. Use your best work!)

What will be the title of your project? Do changes in the weather affect children's behavior?

What is your hypothesis? YES! -- and not for the better

How will you test your hypothesis (what is your procedure)? I will watch my children, classifying their behavior into three general categories: good, bad and ugly. After establishing a baseline for each child, I will make (mental) notes on episodes in which the children seem more antsy, argumentative, boisterous, bouncy, catty, cry-babyish, demanding, energetic, etc., than normal. (I may add more alphabetized adjectives later.) I will compare the occurrence of these episodes to weather records to see if there is an associated change in barometric pressure. Of particular interest will be if weather changes affect the children equally.

What materials will you use? The newspaper weather report and five interesting subjects that I can observe around-the-clock the ENTIRE summer.

What are you controls? I wish I had some. Oh, you mean scientific controls. I should study my neighbor's exceptionally sweet boys, too. In my own family I will strive for complete order in this house, where nutritious meals are served on a set schedule, and the proper amount of sleep is obtained each and every night. No one will get sick. That way these factors won't skew the results. As extra controls, my children will obey the first time when asked, and they will not tease or get into each other's things. Our days will be filled with wholesome, engaging activities. With such bliss, any aberrant behavior surely must be blamed on the weather, right?

Hoo-boy, this might be hard to pull off.

Alternate idea for science project: What brand of cereal, when combined with milk, makes the strongest glue on the dining table?

Good luck!