On This Miraculous Planet, On Real Food, On Union with all that is
This seems apparent to note - but plants, like children, change.
Like well cared for children, well cared for plants grow with vigor and joy.
Like curious courageous children, plants do not like staying within lines, following other’s ideas of decorum and placement.
In other words, my new favorite toy is an electric hedge trimmer.
Read MoreWe pulled into the road. Three large metal contraptions faced us. Equipment I would have not been able to identify 10 years ago. Next to the tractor with the forklift front was a round baler and a rake.
The field was marked with the pattern from a mower. Thick threads of dark green wove between the stubbed brown of shorn stalks.
And rain fell onto the windshield.
Read More“Why did that man leave his truck running?” The Bean looked affronted.
“I asked him if he could not idle his engine while he talks to your father - he told me that otherwise he cooks like a sardine in there and he needs the air conditioning.”
“Why doesn’t he open a window? His engine hurts the earth.” Outrage and disbelief sharpened her tone and her eyes.
Oh no, Corinna, own this.
“Beloved, I hear that, but you know what else hurts the earth? Cheese that we have in our refrigerator. It is from France. It came over on a big boat and used lots of food miles to get here.”
Read MoreOh, you microscopic shards of glass,
staving off the caterpillar’s frass,
denuded leaves forever begone!
To thee I sing this humble song.
Read More“Didn’t you pick peas for dinner?”
“OOOOoohhhhh, right.” Dragon reached into his pocket and started pulling out handfuls. “I did pick them, and I forgot.”
3 peas were palmed onto the counter. 4 more peas were placed on top. Handful by grubby handful, peas appeared.
I looked at our dinner guests and started laughing, “would anyone like some pocket peas?”
Surprisingly, everyone but the family declined to eat pocket peas. Ah well.
Read More“Don’t be the best, be the only.”
Thank you Kevin Kelly for that fabulous nugget. Children, he is bang on. When I was in school, these were the cultural markers delineating success.
Straight As.
Being on a varsity team (bonus if you are the captain).
Read MoreI did not grow up mowing grass. Our front yard (“garden”) according to my mother was flagstones and North Tisbury azaleas.*
Our back garden was much the same.
No grass. In Michigan we had scant grass. 10 minutes to mow grass with small mower.
Not anymore.
Read MoreRecently, we celebrated our last official day of Oak Meadow Kindergarten and Third Grade. Dragon admired his uppercase alphabet marching across the walls. Bean thumbed through her Main Lesson Books and then dominated a game of Jeopardy based on her third grade learnings. It was a true red letter day.
“I have 1000 points!”
“What is next?”
“I am going to do the B column in 100.”
“B100, 50 divided by ten.”
Read MoreMy grandfather used to tell a story of a professor he had in graduate school. This man loved painting his fence.* His excitement over slopping paint on wood confounded my grandfather - who considered this individual a paragon of intellect and academic achievement. So one day, my grandfather asked him why.
The professor’s response was along these lines. “There are very few projects in life where you know exactly what is needed to succeed. Not only that, but at any point in the project, I know exactly how far I have gone and have much further I need to go. That is why I like painting my fence.”
I feel that way about mulching.
Read MoreDearest Beloveds, there are times when being the sandwich generation feels more like being a squashed generation. Global warming seems to be that issue right now.
“Corinna, on the counter container, I want one.”
Where are we? New York? DC?
“You would like me to get you something that lives on a counter.”
“Yes, for drinking.”
For drinking? What the hell lived on the counter for drinking?
Read MoreDearest Beloveds,
The latest craze in the house is playing the Green Glass Doors. What started out as a riddle to stymie us all has turned into a spelling game that travels with us everywhere.
Bean, you brought the game home from Flying Deer. We were sitting at the dinner table.
“Okay, here is a new game. Tell me the rule for how this works. I can go through the green glass doors. And so can you Momma. But Dragon cannot.”
Read MoreDearest Beloveds,
The first year of our WiseBodies “Sex Ed for Adults” is coming to a close. A class filled with tears and laughter and learning. Aside from rocking my world by teaching me the history of the speculum, this class is also slowly, steadily, unraveling much of what I understood “sex” to be.
I am so glad I am learning this now - before you two hit puberty.
I wish I could say, I am learning this before you two are exposed to our culture’s myopic, juvenile, reductive idea of “sex” but that is not true.
Read More
My life vision is to love, be curious, identify my Cranky Monster, and be brave enough to speak from and for The Good.
Click here for more about me.
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