When I was in the Galileo Museum of Science in Florence (last week), I ended my walk through it in the gift shop. I looked around for something that might interest the kids. A book on the astronomer. Okay, that. What else? I picked up a book that was I suppose deemed "scientific." It had number games and puzzles. Target age? Somewhere around Snowdrop's. Maybe a bit older, but not a lot. I leafed through the pages. I was, after all, an econometrics major for half my college years. Calculus? No problem! I wasn't a math whizz, but I was solid!
So why did the math puzzles suddenly seem.. not so easy? Doable, but with effort! A lot of effort!
This morning, the NYTimes offered sample questions from the new reading comprehension SAT's. Those were reassuringly straightforward for a person who is 70 and reads and writes during very many of her waking hours. What's the takeaway here? Use it or lose it! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm retreating to do some math puzzles on the side. I didn't buy the book in the Galileo shop (I was afraid that I'd be stuck figuring them out with Snowdrop or Sparrow and I sooooo prefer reading with them!), but I am on the lookout for a book that would basically be for people-who-are-getting-older-and-are-afraid-of-losing-their-math-skills. If you know of one, send me a message!
Chicken report: well, it's drizzling today. And we caught a racoon prowling around the coop. Neither of those are exactly cheer-inducing, but, on the other hand, the garden really needs rain and the racoon did not get into the coop so all's good so far. And the hens did go out. All of them.
(the four new ones, tentatively...)
At least for a short while. Turns out chickens don't really like rain. What a surprise.
(But hey, the rain is a boost to spring flowers. Just look at these budding daffodils!)
Breakfast. Yup. Always with the two of them these days...
A wet morning means that I don't have to feel guilty about staying inside. That's a good thing. I'm out of blueberry muffins for Snowdrop. Sparrow likes his M.Sourdough cookies, but the little girl way prefers my muffins. I aim to please both.
The rest of the morning is devoted to mom issues. You want to live a long life, you can expect to have issues. She tells me hers, I address them. The list is long.
And now it is time to pick up the kids. And rush them inside. Away from the rain.
(She "borrows" his computer to do a round of "the cat game.")
Friday winds up the week for us neatly. With lessons for the kids and scrambling to get them ready on time for me. But I like the idea of pulling together to accomplish a goal. When we make our timeline, without issue, I shout out "on time performance!" and they cheer. A feeling of accomplishment prevails.
And after I leave the last one to her dance lesson, I meander over to the grocery store for a late evening grocery shopping, because the store is close to the last lesson drop off, and because this then frees me for the weekend from food-related chores. As I walk up and down the aisles I think -- did I even remember that this is International Women's Day? Does it matter to me?
Sure it does. I am so quickly brought back in my thoughts to when I was just 15 and so sure that women's issues were history, an unsavory history but history nonetheless. Ha ha ha. My dad had warned me -- the problem of pushing women aside, of managing their lives, of resenting their freedom wont go away in your generation. It will take longer.
He was so right.
Still, I live with a guy who has never wanted to be a dominant figure in anyone's life, male or female and though at this very minute I just finished opening his eyes to the mess around his couch space (to which he then points out the tchotchke in his line of vision, and I follow with a reminder that this is my space, or at least a space where my decorating preferences trump his...), Ed and I haven't the gender/dominance issues that are still so prevalent in the world around us. For this I am so grateful1
Reheat chili, open a celebratory bottle of Prosecco, smile.
With so much love...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.