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Land and Labor
So here we are at my mom’s again. I try to stay home but my silly family constantly has ways of involving me in their lives—which I love of course. It doesn’t take much more than a phone call to get me in the car and driving off to the sticks. Poor Toby though. He doesn’t see much of us.
I didn’t mean to stay more than a day after Rapunzel’s holiday concert but the thing about visiting my family is that there is alway so much to do here! They don’t call it Camp Chaos for nothing. I constantly get sucked into projects. Which I totally and completely love. I am weird that way.
I cannot just sit around and watch television or read a book. If I see something challenging to do like say: some boxes that need organizing on the carport or a giant juniper bush that looks like a marshmallow just calling out to be trimmed into a beautiful Japanese bonsai tree… I can’t help myself! So I call up Toby, ask him if he can eat top ramen for another night, and throw myself into the latest project.
Even though I love love love living at the beach, I love the country too. My mom’s new house sits on a pretty big lot and there are trees and grass to play in here! It’s so pretty and over-grown. The yard just calls out to be taken care of. There is space to garden here! I want to plant a really big garden and come out every week to keep it up. Of course that’s not very practical, considering my schedule is pretty busy as it is but it is fun to dream when we are out here.
With the on-coming depression (That’s what we call the “economic downturn” in our house.) I’m thinking crazy thoughts about planting vegetables and making do with less and less. Someday there might come a time when we go to the grocery store and the shelves aren’t lined with every convenient food you can think of. Already, I leave the store half the time without the cut of meat I wanted when I first walked in. Cookie brands are going out of business… what next? Maybe I’m being an alarmist but I like to think about these things. Not in a negative way but more as a challenge. What new thing can I do? How can I ride this out and make it work to my advantage?
So anyway, when I show up at my mom’s and I see her fruit trees so heavy with fruit that the lemons are breaking their own branches and rotting on the stem, I can’t help but think about this. Her yard is full of rich soil that is waiting to be tilled. There is so much space out here. Why don’t we take advantage of this? Of course the answer is complicated.
My dad is a trucker. He’s gone most of the time. My mom is getting older and has trouble gardening like she used to. Her hands ache with arthritis. My brother is gone trucking too and my sister-in-law has her own half acre to take care of. There just aren’t enough bodies to do the work there is to do. And this isn’t even a farm!
I guess that leaves me. But you know how it is. I have a life home at the beach too. I have freelance work to do and household chores to keep up. I have a husband who likes to see his family once in a while. I have friends at the beach who wonder where I am. I’ve thought about putting Bug in preschool but I’m gone so much it would be a waste of money. What about ballet or gymnastics? I haven’t even thought about signing her up for anything like that.
I guess it’s just a lot to think about.
We’ll just try to get here whenever we can.
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The wonderful awfulness that is a Christmas Concert
Last night we had the privilege of attending my oldest niece’s first choral performance. She’s ten. It was a Christmas concert of sorts with songs played by the beginner band and songs sung by the chorus. The kids had been practicing for about three weeks. Which pretty much meant they were rough, squeaky, awkward and totally fourth graders. It was absolutely lovely. I almost cried.
I’m sure there will come a time in my near future when I will dread having to squeeze in yet another one of these concerts but this one was more beautiful to me than thousand-dollar box seats at the opera. Perfect performances are boring. Imperfect ones are lovely. From the tape peelings left from posters being ripped off the lunchroom wall to the uncomfortable metal chairs that were too close to your neighbor for comfort to the innocent freckled bubblegum cheeks of pre-puberty…I just wanted to capture it and put it in a jar.
So I made a horrible movie instead. I think I got another grain of sand in my camera because my lens has a terrible time focusing. (Blast it. Never buy a Canon TX-1.) I think the awfulness of my movie-making sort of goes with the theme of perfection being overrated though. I just had to share it with you even if it makes you squint and curse my camera skills under your breath. Life is blurry and wiggly sometimes, you know?
The whole event brought back waves of memories that nearly squished me with sentiment. I remember being in chorus. I remember singing so earnestly, standing up there on those creaky old thin carpet-covered bleachers. I remember trying to harmonize when I didn’t even really know what harmonizing was and crooning off key like a dying cow. I don’t think the teacher ever noticed me but that might be the reason I never made it to “Show Choir.”
I remember the fart jokes and the nervousness about my clothes not matching quite right. I remember hours and hours of examining the kids’ heads who stood in front of me. I remember one girl had so many zits on her back it nearly drove me insane just looking at them. I remember it all like it was yesterday.
How did my little niece get to be ten already? I just want to go to school with her every day and fight off the icy chunks of insecurity that come raining down like hail for no reason at all. I just want to meddle and fix and make everything okay so she can be the innocent child that I love so much forever and ever! But I can’t. I can’t hold back her curiosity for the future. I can’t stop time. I can only wince and record it.
It’s all so beautiful.
