On Saturday, I talked with Bev. We spoke of the idea of wealth, poverty, and signs thereof. I mentioned that we have all these “drives” to provide for the “poor children” backpacks filled with school supplies. I wondered why the schools required all the “stuff” the kids need, especially if they know it is a “poor” population. I wondered why the parents didn’t take it upon themselves to provide for the kids. Every summer, the big stores have big sales on all this “back to school” stuff.
We talked about crayons in our childhood. I said that we needed a box of 8 crayons each year, and I made mine last the whole year. Some children had boxes of 16, and I thought that was “wealth.” Bev said that a box of 48 with a sharpener was the height of wealth in those days. Two old women clucking about the decline of society.
Last night, I dreamed that I had that box of 48, with a sharpener, something I never had. This morning I looked in a drawer in my study—-a box of 48 crayons!
I take these events, the dream and the reality, to mean,
I have everything I need.

The Christmas I turned nine, my family lived in Germany, because my Dad was in the U.S. Air Force.  That year, my main gift was a special hat, called a Bavarian Hat, or sometimes called Tyrolean hat. Usually these hats are green, but mine was a natural wool color, not quite white.  

My brother woke me up very early, really in the middle of the night, to go open our presents.  That year, my brother and I each got a Bavarian hat.

We were in the front room of the apartment, by the Christmas tree, being silly, and noisy.  We had already opened our hats and put them on.  Our parents heard some commotion, and still half asleep, my Dad came out to see us.  Then he went back to the bedroom, and we heard him say to our mom, “There are a couple of German kids in the front room, I don’t know why,” and they went back to sleep.

The custom for these hats is to buy little pins in each place one travels, and put the pins on the hat.  There are 6 such pins on this hat, and a little jeweled salamander pin.   There’s a white fluffy feather, and a green band.  You’ve maybe heard the expression “a feather in your cap”?  It means you accomplished something.  This tradition comes from hunters putting a feather in the hat band from birds they had killed.     

This hat has always reminded me of my childhood and that very special Christmas celebration.  The pins on the hat show my travels while we stayed in Germany.

 The Frankfort Zoo at that time was magnificent.  It was the first zoo I remember visiting.  The animal enclosures were set apart by moats, not fences, so the animals appeared to be in the wild.  It was there that I saw the okapi, a strange animal.  

Heidelberg is a town famous for its university, and Koln for its cathedral.

Schwetzingen  is in wine country, as shown by the grapes and wine glass, and has an amazing castle surrounded by gardens.  Maybe my love of gardening was begun when I toured those gardens.  I think my dad was in the hospital in that place, and we went to visit him there.  (I know my dad was in the hospital, I think that is the town where the hospital was.)

The Hansel & Gretel pin, the word is faded, but I think it is Eisen – hard to say.  There is a part of Germany now called “Fairy Tale Road” and maybe this town is on that road.   I know that we went to the Hansel & Greta operetta, and that is probably when I got this pin.  I still remember a song from that show.  It was a very special occasion for us.  You’ve heard of The Brothers Grimm?  They came from this part of Germany.  They were scholars of language, but they became famous for their collection of folklore.

Worms/ Rhein     The Rhein River is a major river in Europe.  Worms is famous for its cathedral, and as the place where Martin Luther was the subject of a court case in 1521.   The mushroom, red with white spots, is considered “good luck” as is the chimney sweep.  I’ve never seen that kind of mushroom and I don’t know why it is “good luck.”  I’m sure the sweep brings good luck because a clogged chimney can start a fire. 

Berchtesgaden is town up in the Alps where I rode a ski lift to the top.  I remember being terrified!  But the view was wonderful.

The salamander is also considered “good luck” because he is thought to be able to withstand high heat.

This year, 2019, I asked my granddaughter if she would like this hat and she accepted.  I had it cleaned and cleaned all the little pins and put them back.  I researched the places they represent to tell her about them, and to suggest she might someday make a trip to retrace my steps.

As a small child in her grandparents’ home, my mother would gaze at a picture above the table while her grandfather said mealtime prayers.  The picture showed a waterfall coming over a mill in the German home town of Grandpa.  One day he said to her, “Maybe someday, you will go to Germany and visit the old home place.”  And, decades later, she did. 

I have suggested to my granddaughter that just as my great grandpa’s words came true for my mom, my words may come true for her. 

My daughter called me. “I got a request on Facebook asking if I knew you, if you were the person who taught English in Fuling. Do you know this person?” So I asked her to find contact information for my former colleague. I’ve left a message on her phone, but have not yet received her call.
I certainly do recall our summer in Fuling, fifteen years ago. I still wear, for special occasions, the red with gold brocade flowers jacket, traditionally styled with black trim on the mandarin collar, sleeves, and hem, and five black frog closures on the front. I remember that the tailor wished I would have a dress, but I felt the jacket would be more versatile. I wear it with a long black skirt, or black palazzo pants, or velvet slacks. The fabric is traditionally used for a wedding dress in China. It looks like silk brocade, but it might be polyester. I learned that year that to test the fabric, take a thread or two, and holding them over a sink or an ashtray, light them with a match. If they burn, they’re silk. If they melt into a hard ball, they’re polyester.
My young colleague ordered a black jacket. We could tell the tailor disapproved, but that’s what the woman wanted, and that’s what she got. There were eleven of us on that team, two men and nine women. We went with our Chinese assistants, to the downtown shop which stood at the top of about 12 wide steps. While we were all marveling at the fabrics, choosing designs, and being measured for our garments, a crowd gathered on the steps watching us. At that time, Fuling had not seen foreigners for many years, and here we were, eleven of us all in a small space, available for watching.
Later in a conversation about economic realities, I asked a student, “For example, how much does that tailor make per month?” He answered, “This month, perhaps more than usual.”
That trip, my first venture into China, was a very difficult summer. The heat was oppressive, the accommodations, less than five star, the schedule rigorous. But it was life changing for me. Both my colleagues and my students saw me as a teacher in my own right, rather than as an adjunct to my husband, important, but secondary to him and his work. It was as if the light shifted subtly and I saw a new aspect of myself.
I returned to China, another summer, another team, another city. In all, I made six trips to China, always as a teacher. When I’m asked if I miss China, I say, “I miss the person I was able to be while I was in China.” Each trip brought new friends, new colleagues, new students. Deep friendships formed that first summer remain active to this day.
Day by day, season by season, light shifts and shows us new views of ourselves, of others, of life itself. Each day is a gift to be shared with others, in love, in service, and with joy. Shared history, shared memories, give shape to our friendships. But new events, new conversations, give us new growth.
In my garden, some delphinium grew all summer without blooming, but just before first frost, they bloomed, and now, when the weather is chilly, they stand in glory with their blue flowers. I look forward to the new blooming of friendship with my former colleague.

For a long time, I’ve had a mental picture of my garden as I’d like it to be.  I haven’t been able to complete that picture in reality. All my striving, and there’s always more to do.   There is always  growth, either what I’ve planted and tended, or what is wild.
There is some beauty in wilderness, I think, so I have a small area of milkweed, wild flowers and zinnias for butterflies. I observed four monarch butterfly caterpillars in my garden, and when I saw four monarchs, I assumed they had hatched from those caterpillars seen earlier, even though I never saw the cocoons.
The problem is that common milkweed is aggressive and spreads easily with lateral roots to take over the cultivated portion of the yard. It stands over six feet tall, and then bends in the wind to lie in the pathway. To cut, or not to cut? Is there a cocoon hiding within? Dare I root some of it out?

The brick pathways become overrun with weeds. My dear husband, who laid part of the pathway, wants a clean pathway. I want creeping thyme in between the bricks. I plant, he takes out, as he fights the dandelions, grass and other weeds. I have spent a fair amount of money on little pots of creeping thyme, which always dies, or disappears, and finally this year, I bought seed. The directions say to keep it well watered, and this year was exceptionally dry. I watered almost every day in July, but I see little success in the creeping thyme plan. How much time should I spend on the paths? How much time do I have in the garden?
Years ago, I put some peppermint in a flower bed, and by this year, it has taken over that space, few flowers left. I’ve donated bags and bags of it to a small local food bank. My daughter always takes some home with her, and I cut it to use as tea or flavoring. Still, it is always overflowing that bed.

Squirrels are cute as they run about from the roof of the garage, across the fence, or over the ground, and they have their place in nature, as my 6th grade teacher explained. But, they continually plant nuts in my garden beds, among the tomatoes, squash, and cabbage, and they have bitten into lots of tomatoes, leaving the remains on the path. We installed a little battery run noisemaker to deter the squirrels and other wildlife. The noise is like that of a large predatory bird. Could this be why we have no birds in the garden this year? Or is it because our neighbor moved out and no feeders remain? Should I start feeding the birds?
What about the “community cats” as they are now called, instead of “alley cats”? The neighbor tamed them enough to capture them and take them to a veterinarian who spayed them, gave them shots, and clipped their ears to mark them as having been cared for. These four black cats were born in the depth of winter in the neighbor’s garage a few years ago. She left the door ajar so they could get in. They have always enjoyed time in my garden as if it belongs to them. They love to use the beds as their personal toilets, so I have laid chicken wire, or special plastic cat deterrents over the beds. These make both weeding and harvesting difficult. The cats won’t come near me, which is just as well since I am allergic to them. They do keep the mouse population down, so I don’t shoo them away.
Husband has trapped some possum, raccoon and woodchucks, and taken them to wild areas by the river. In an earlier time, say a hundred years ago, we might have eaten them, as my father’s family did. We have the luxury of buying meat from a farmer, or a grocery store. My garden isn’t a matter of life and death for us, as it was for my grandma, feeding her nine children daily. I have a fond memory of her wilted dandelion green salad. But I don’t eat my dandelions.
This year, I looked at my garden and said, “I have recovered from cancer, but my garden has not.” One season of neglect can take three or more seasons to recover. I found that every time I went outside it was to work, striving to make the reality fit the picture in my mind. I found despair instead of pleasure. Weeds and more weeds were everywhere. Bugs, bugs and more bugs. Japanese beetles decimated the green bean plants. I learned in 2017 though, that the plants would survive and still produce in spite of the beetles, so I didn’t fight back. I did not know that onions are time sensitive and that may be why they don’t produce. I wondered why the beets don’t make full roots. I wondered why the cauliflower didn’t make full heads. I learned that the dahlias need more space. I wondered why I do any of this.
One day I realized that I must sit in the Adirondack chair my neighbor left me, when she left the neighborhood, put my feet up, let the sun caress my face, and enjoy my garden. Look at the four monarchs cruising around, and there is a swallowtail! Look at the dahlias, and the zinnias, and the marigolds! See the purple cabbage filling that bed with its full leaves protecting the heads. Note the aroma of the mint, and dill, and that rosemary. The red begonia by the shaded bench which was a “special today, $20.00” has been flourishing all summer and into the fall. And, those giant coleus are magnificent. The pink rose has taken root and is thriving by the patio table. The Japanese maple is recovering from the late frost loss, and by next year will be beautiful again. The hydrangeas surrounding it are also thriving.
The garden doesn’t have to be perfect, and in fact can never be perfect. It can be substantially beautiful, if I choose to look at the beauty instead of the faults. I can ask for help, as I did this year, or I can wallow in the volume of work needed. I can give thanks for the water available to me, or fuss about the time it takes to water everything. I can rejoice in the four pumpkins available to harvest, instead of lamenting that so many were lost. Autumn is upon us, time to do what can be done to get ready for the long winter, and for spring. There will be a few bright days left in the year when I can be in the place I love best, my garden.

“Always something,” Dear Husband’s grandma used to say.

On December 18, I was baking treats for my party on the 19th.  Everything else was ready, and I was just making an orange torte with ground almonds instead of flour, and some no flour brownies.  It was fairly late in the evening.  That torte needed to bake 55 to 65 minutes, so I set the timer for the 55 minutes and checked.  The outer edges seemed done, but the middle was still liquid.  I set the timer for 15 more minutes and checked again.  Not only was the middle not done, it was actually cold.  The oven had stopped working.

I used my electric roaster pan to finish baking that, followed by the brownies.  The next day the party was great fun for all the 15 ladies who attended and the treats were much appreciated.

The next Monday we tried to figure out if the oven could be repaired, but learned that it would be best to get a new stove.  So on the 23rd, we shopped online, and then went to a local store and purchased a new stove, which will not be delivered until this week, January 6.

Then we celebrated Christmas with our daughter who borrowed the roaster pan and still has it.  I didn’t realize how much I rely on the oven, and how much I enjoy baking muffins, cakes, pies, brownies, and roasting vegetables and meat.  My sister said I avoided the holiday weight gain.

On December 31the clothes dryer quit working, and the washing machine control knob broke.  These machines are at least 20 years old, and possibly 30—we don’t remember exactly when we bought them.  Parts are no longer available.   So we have shopped for new ones, and today ordered them.  They will be delivered on the same truck with the stove.  If we think of our daily pay as substitute teachers, we can say that these three appliances cost about 22 days’ work.

So, we are grateful that we are able to work, and are able to live in our own house and have all these modern appliances for daily life.

We’ll be ready for the next challenge, because we know, there’s always something.

Today the sky is cloudy and grey and the temperature is hovering below freezing.  Not a pleasant day to be outdoors.

I started the day by going to church as is my habit, where I heard an inspiring message that included the Scripture, “Teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.”  We must always be ready to die, and thus be ready to live.  The speaker focused on fire: the fires of the judgment of God, the fires of persecution of the faithful, the fire of God himself who inspires us to live courageously in service to God.  The speaker proclaimed that we can all be saved from the fires by trusting in God.

After lunch I wanted to take a walk, but not outside, so I drove to the mall and walked and walked around and around, stopping sometimes in stores, just looking at things, then walking briskly again. It’s a relatively safe place to walk, the lights are bright, and there is music.  My dear husband prefers to watch football on tv for his Sunday afternoon pastime.

I stopped by the library after the walk and picked out several books to read in the next weeks.  I don’t have a reading plan these days, but my choices are not entirely random either.  I prefer mysteries, and I go for authors I trust.

It is already dark and time for supper, after which we hope to watch Downton Abbey.   And that will conclude our Sunday.  Tomorrow’s another day in which I will ponder how to apply my heart to wisdom.

Last night I read a list of 100 jokes by 100 comedians.  I got to number 20 before I laughed at one.  I don’t remember what that one was.  Of the whole 100, I laughed at maybe 6 jokes.  In this list were some jokes that were 50 years old.  Maybe they were funny then, but not now?  What makes something funny?  Are jokes culture bound?  Is there any humor that is universal?

I think that humor requires the highest level of language learning.  You have to understand the various meanings of the words to know why this particular play of words is funny.  But, you also have to be aware of current events and social norms to “get” the joke.  Then, whether you think the joke is funny or not depends on your own moral standards, which are somewhat dependent on your own culture.

Here is the best joke from that whole list, and I don’t remember the comedian who told it.

“In past decades, we had Johnny Cash, Bob Hope, and Steve Jobs.  Now we have no cash, no hope, and no jobs.  Please don’t let Kevin Bacon die.”

Funny to you, or not?  What are your thoughts?

No one knows what the new year will bring, but we always wish for happiness.  The Romans named the month “January” after the god Janus, who looked both forward and back.  I don’t remember, did he have two heads?  I think so.  It’s the time to evaluate the past year and make plans, hopes, dreams, resolutions, for the next year.  I hope to have a peaceful, quiet year staying home.  Perhaps others will travel to visit us this year.  I hope to have a productive garden.  I hope to improve my life by getting hearing aids, but they are quite expensive.  I’ve seen that we could make another trip to China just for tourism and stay a few weeks, for less than the cost of these hearing instruments.  It’s a perspective that invites the question, so popular in our ESL texts, “Would you rather…?”  I also hope to improve my life by having cataract surgery.  This will not cost much, since insurance will pay for it.  I hope to write more, more often, and I hope to finish a writing project and attempt to sell it.

Those are my thoughts for today, January 1, 2016.  What are yours?

On our journey home, Seattle was our first stop.  An early spring had started, and I saw daffodils everywhere.  The weather was balmy, especially after Fuling where it was quite chilly.  When we arrived home in early  March, there was still a foot of snow on the ground and it was severely cold.  We put the wool comforter on the bed!  Spring arrived gradually.  My first daffodil bloomed on Good Friday, followed a few days later by seven or eight more for an Easter Sunday display.  I have hundreds of bulbs in my garden and enjoyed all of them in succession.  Now they are finished and the peonies are beginning.  But we took a quick trip to Michigan to celebrate a class reunion, and we found that the tulips and lilacs were in full bloom.  So, we enjoyed a triple spring.

I am just now beginning to feel that I have arrived home.  School is almost finished here.  We have been substitute teaching since March.  We’ve enjoyed some family events and parties and have gotten our garden started.  We’ve eaten lettuce and spinach already.  The peas are climbing their trellis, but no pods yet.   Strawberries have many blossoms, but no fruit yet.  I watch carefully for the first berry.

Life is more than food, but food is still basic to life.  Growing your own is quite satisfying.   What’s in your garden?   Leave a reply.