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Muddy Pond Field Trip

Posted on October 11, 2012 by susanrray

I’m not sure if I load up my Grands in my van and go on Field Trips for them or for me.  As a retired teacher, I remember field trip days as fun days, and I choose places I want my Grands to know about.  Museums.  Fire department.  Post Office.  City Hall.  Cookeville Performing Arts Center.  Emergency Management Agency.  Cane Creek Park.  Pet stores.

My Grands don’t always like my choices, but they were excited about going to the Muddy Pond General Store.  That is, until they announced that they’d take their own money to buy Legos, and I told them that this store probably didn’t have Legos.  We were making this outing because they’d read When I Was Young in the Mountains, and they didn’t know what a general store looked like.  As we drove through Monterey and toward Muddy Pond, I stressed that we’d compare and contrast (teacher words that naturally flowed and I explained the meanings) a general store with the stores where we usually shop.

My Grands had $2.00 each to spend.  “What kind of toys do they have?” asked three year old Ruthie.  I didn’t know what kind of toys – if any – the Muddy Pond store would have.  I explained that most general stores sell everything that a family needs.  And this store would be like that.  Food, clothes, tools, pots and pans.  Everything that everyone in the family needed.

“If they have everything, they’ll have toys,” said Ruthie.

“If they don’t, it’s okay,” said Lou, age 5.  “Momma said they’d have sprinkles and we can buy some.  But she said we can’t buy candy.”  Spoken like a reigning Sprinkle Queen.

We made mental lists of goods displayed on the shelves.  Peanut butter.  Tomato sauce.  Plastic bags of flour, sugar, noodles, cornstarch.  A whole aisle of candy.  Kitchen goods – knives, plates, pots, pans, dishcloths.  Oil lamps.  “Come back here,” David, age 7, called.  “I found the toys.”  Crayons, coloring books, small metal tractors and cars.  “Let’s go upstairs.  I bet they have more stuff.”

Lou looked through a rack of long-to-the-ankle dresses.  “Do they have my size?”  I explained that many women and girls who live in Muddy Pond wore this type of long dress every day.  “Even when they play outside?”  Ruthie asked.  We tried out the hand made wooden rocking chairs, stood on stools, admired the quilts, and my Grands rocked on the rocking horses.  They found hand carved wooden boxes that Lou and Ruthie thought would be perfect for keeping private stuff.

Back downstairs, near the check out counter, we found the sprinkles.  Packed in small plastic boxes and every color of the rainbow.  My Grands spent their money on red, green, and yellow sprinkles, and I couldn’t resist the homemade peach fried pies and peanut brittle.

“Well, what do you think?”  I asked when we were all buckled in our seats in the van.  “Is the general store like the stores where you usually go?”  I forced a discussion identifying the differences and similarities.

After several minutes of silence as we journeyed on the unmarked paved country road, Lou said pensively, “You know what I think?  I think what they need is different from what we need.”

And that’s why we take Field Trips.

 

Filed under: Everyday Life, Family, Grandchildren, Travel | Tagged: , , , | Leave a comment »

When? How? Why? Will you?

Posted on September 27, 2012 by susanrray

“When can I open my first bag?”  my Grand asked.  Just like all five year olds, she likes surprises, and her mother had packed five bags for her to open while she rode with her Pop and me to the beach.  A five hundred mile car ride.  Her mother’s suggestion was that my Grand open a bag, filled with snacks and quiet sit-in-your-seat activities, to mark each hundred miles, 100 to 400, and one for whenever I thought she needed it.  She needed it to mark twenty miles travelled.  And her question was the first of many that my Grands, ages 3, 5, and 7, asked during a week’s vacation with their parents, baby sister, Pop, and me.

How big is the beach?  How much water is in the ocean?  How far is it across the water to land?  How long would it take to get there?  In a boat?  On a plane?  Where did all this sand come from?  How far can we see?  When do the waves stop?  Do shrimp have bones?  Does a starfish have meat?  What lives in those little holes on the beach? Will the dolphins swim close to us?  How come high tide isn’t the same time as yesterday?  Why don’t we have little tiny frogs at home?  How long does it take a monarch to get to Mexico?  Do we get a special treat (such as ice cream) every day while we’re on vacation?

Some answers were easy, some a guess, and some required research, and all were answered to satisfy each Grand’s curiosity.  I don’t intend to repeat the answers – except a few.  I answered that starfish do not have meat, but they do.  They are best eaten after they’ve been boiled, and several should be served since there is only one small bite of meat in each.

Those little holes in the sand?  I’d assumed they were critter holes, and I was wrong.  I googled coastalcare.org and learned that while some tiny sand fleas jump into them, these holes aren’t homes for sea life.  They are formed by the rising tide.  As waves crash onto the beach, the airflow under the sand is so strong that air is pushed above the surface and makes small openings.  They are often called ‘nail holes’ because none are larger than the diameter of a large nail.

Of all the questions my Grands asked, my favorites required no thought, no research, and a simple one-word answer.  “Gran, do you want to jump in the waves with me?”  “I’m going to make a blueberry sand cake with drippy icing.  Wanna’ help?”   “Gran, will you come play with me?”  I couldn’t get out of my beach chair fast enough.

I hope my Grands never stop asking questions.

 

Filed under: Everyday Life, Family, Grandchildren, Travel | Tagged: , , , | Leave a comment »

Summertime…..A Good Visitor

Posted on September 20, 2012 by susanrray

I’m not finished with summer.  I want more warm days to play in the swimming pool.  “Watch me, Gran!”  my oldest Grand says.  He runs the length of the diving board and jumps into deep water.  “Did you see me?”  he says as soon as his mouth breaks the water’s surface.  Of course.  I applaud and promise to watch as he dives underwater to pick up a toy that lies on the bottom of the pool, four feet deep.

“Swing me around, Gran.  Really fast,” says my five-year old Grand.  She adjusts her goggles, twists the water wings on her arms, and tightens her closed mouth.  I hold her hands and rotate in a circle, around and around and around.  When I say I’m dizzy, she says, “I’m not.  I’ll throw the ball and let’s see who gets it first.”  She dog paddles and holds the floating ball high in the air.  “Did you know I can swim really good on my back?” I watch as she lies on top of the water and kicks across the pool.

“Gran, hold me.  I don’t want to get my face wet.”  My three-year-old Grand locks her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.  As I walk into water deep enough to reach her chest, she tightens her grip.  I remind her that earlier in the summer, she put her face in the water and blew bubbles.  “I don’t want to.  You can,” she says as she buries her face in my shoulder because her big brother and sister splash water close to us.

It’s not just fun in the pool that I don’t want to end.  I’m not ready to give up late afternoon pontoon boat rides and sunsets at Center Hill Lake.  And I’ll miss my smallest bird friends.  A hummingbird feeder hangs outside my kitchen window, but now it’s time to take it down and encourage the hummers to head south.  I haven’t eaten all the locally grown watermelon and cantaloupe and yellow squash I want, and I need at least one more mess of fresh green beans.

I like hosta plants with green leaves, not wilted yellow and brown leaves.  My knockout roses are knocked out for this growing season, and the blooms of my red impatience flowers are drooping on the end of long thin stems.  I like long days with sunrise at 5:30 a.m. and sunset at 8:00 p.m.  Plus, I’m not ready to give up comfortable summer clothes – shorts, tee shirts, and flip-flops.

The backyard deck is my favorite summertime room.  It’s where I listen to the songs of night creatures and greet the day with my first cup of coffee and eat lunch with my Grands and read in the late afternoon and cook on the grill.

Just like a good guest, summer comes for a visit.  Then leaves while I’m still having fun and promises to come back.  I’ll be ready.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Family, Friends, Grandchildren | Tagged: , | Leave a comment »

How Girls are Wired

Posted on September 13, 2012 by susanrray

Last week I visited a kindergarten class.  Two little girls sat on the floor side-by-side and stacked blocks on each side of a balance weight scale.  I watched and asked them what they liked about school.  Millie answered quickly.  “I like my two best friends.  Lydia and Lora.”  She didn’t know their last names.  Lydia said, “I like my teacher.  She’s nice.  And my two best friends.  Millie and uh……..What’s her name?”  I laughed.  It’s good to know that some things about little girls haven’t changed since I was a child.

Young children are friends and don’t know each other’s last names.  And sometimes, just like Lydia, they don’t know first names.  And it hasn’t changed that girls have best friends.  Boys have friends, but seem to run in packs.  During the twenty-five years that I taught elementary age students, and more than that as the mother of a son, I’ve never known a boy who wrote BFF (best friends forever).

According to a study reported in TIME Science and conducted by researchers at the National Institute of Mental Health and Georgia State University, girls are hardwired to care about one-on-one relationships with their best friend forever, while the brains of boys are more attuned to group dynamics and competition with other boys. (http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1911103,00.html)

I was ten when my best friend’s family moved twenty miles away and my friend went to a different school.  I cried for three nights.  Who would I sit with at lunch?  Who’d swing with me on the playground?  And who’d ask me to spend the night?  On Friday, the girl who sat behind me in my 5th grade class wore her red shirt that was just like mine, and she went home with me after school.  And the next Friday night, I stayed all night at her house.

We females latch onto a friend and declare her my BBF.  In high school, a best friend loans her glittery sweater and keeps secrets.  As maid of honor, she stands beside us when we say, “I do.”  She babysits so we can get a haircut when our days are filled with dirty diapers and play dough.  She picks up our children at school when we’re sick.  She plans our surprise 40th birthday party.  She’s the first person we call with good news.  Or bad news.

Among a listing of Truths for Mature Humans I read, “I think part of a best friend’s job should be to immediately clear your computer history when you die.”  I agree.  And I hope she cleans my bathroom and throws away the molded casserole on the bottom shelf of my refrigerator before my relatives arrive.

As Millie and Lydia grow up, I predict that they’ll have many different best friends and they’ll know their names.  First and last names.  But the names aren’t important.  What’s important is that they have a close friend for each stage of their lives.  That’s just the way girls are wired.

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TTU Purple Pride

Posted on September 6, 2012 by susanrray

I’m searching in my closet for purple and gold.  Purple shirt and purple sweater.  Gold scarf and gold eagle pin.   All to show my Tech Pride.

Last week when Husband told me that TTU football coach Watson Brown would speak at Business before Hours, hosted by the Chamber of Commerce, I wanted to go.  Because I was curious to hear about the player who transferred from the team that wears orange jerseys.  Coach Brown told how hard work and determination won the OVC last year and that this year’s team includes a senior quarterback, a group of freshman receivers, and a solid defense.  And I heard two phrases that I liked about the newest team member:  ‘there’s no I in team’ and ‘a second chance.’

I’m a long-time Tech sports fan.  I attended my very first football game at Tennessee Tech when I was a high school student.  As a Tech student, I missed very few games.  And I loved homecoming.  We girls wore wool suits, with skirts, high heel shoes, and corsages.  A corsage made with a huge yellow mum and purple ribbon.  I wasn’t a fair weather fan.  One homecoming, my brand new leather shoes, bought just the day before, were ruined by a torrential rain.  Homecoming 1969, when the temperature was below 30 degrees and snow fell, I was there to cheer on my team.

Tech Pride runs wide and deep in my family.  My dad, husband, son, brother, niece, nephew, and a host of in-laws all earned degrees from Tennessee Tech.  And at the beginning of every school year when I hung my Tech diploma on the wall behind my desk, (because my principal told us teachers that’s where our college diplomas belonged) I was proud.

I’m sorry to admit that my Tech Pride has waned for a time.  There’s no good excuse.  But last week my Tech spirit soared.  After hearing Coach Brown’s comments, I was eager to see the first game of the season.  And I was there, along with 10,000 other people.  It was a great night for Tech football.  Tents and tables welcomed tailgaters.  The student side of the stadium was filled.  Cheerleaders led the fans in cheers and did a push-up for every point the Tech team scored.  The band entertained at half time.

And the players won their first game of the season.  A team win.  The quarterback threw passes that both freshmen and veteran receivers caught.  When Tech’s lead went from 31-7 to 31-24 in the third quarter, Tech’s defense got tougher.  And the player who used to wear orange?  He looked good in purple as he caught passes, one for a touchdown.

My Tech Pride is revived.  I’m ready to put on my purple sweater and cheer on my football team this Thursday night at Tucker Stadium.  The tailgate park opens at 4:00 p.m.  Kickoff is at 7:00 and it’s Take a Kid to the Game Night.  A perfect outing with my Grands.  And they already have purple shirts.

Filed under: Everyday Life, sports | 4 Comments »

Facebook – Not Just for the Young

Posted on August 23, 2012 by susanrray

“Really, you do Facebook?” a friend asked.  Really, I do.  But I was skeptical when I first heard about social networking websites.  I thought such things were created by and for young people, not those of us who are considered over the hill.  My introduction to an online social network was listening to three young teacher friends while we ate lunch together.

“Did you see my Facebook post last night?”  Julie asked.

“No, what’d it say?”  Ann asked.

“I saw it,” said Cindy.  She turned to Ann.  “ Julie wanted to know whether she should wear her new walking shoes or her old ones when we walk after school today.”

“I’d wear the new ones.  What’d you tell her?”  Ann asked.

After listening quietly, I had to speak up.  “Wait.  I don’t understand.  Why’d you ask something like that online?  Couldn’t you all just talk to each other?”  The three laughed.  They insisted they were talking to each other.  “Is that the kind of thing people put on Facebook?”  I said.  For the rest of lunchtime, they told me what their friends had recently written and described pictures that had been posted.  I shook my head.  Some of it sounded like an old-fashion party line gossip.  But I did want to see pictures of a friend’s new house.  That was about six years and ­­­530 friends ago.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by a few friend requests.  “Are you the Mrs. Ray who taught 4th grade in Sparta a long time ago?”  Von asked. He linked me to other friends who were my very first students.  Now I know about Abby’s children and grandchildren and Caroline’s success as an elementary school teacher.  Another former student is a stand-up comedian.  As a 6th grader, he shared a joke at the beginning of most school days, but he never learned the names of European countries.  I laugh every time Monty posts a picture of himself on stage at one of his shows.

I like that our daughter’s friends, girls who slept on our living room floor at slumber parties twenty years ago, let me peek into their lives.  And I’m glad that our son’s friends, now grown-ups and daddies, share pictures of their children.  Birthdays, anniversaries, and weddings – all are celebrated among FB friends.  Pleas for prayers for those who are ill circulate quickly.  Pictures of newborns, less than an hour old, announce births.

Skimming and scanning, I make my way through Facebook posts.  I’m hooked.  In fifteen minutes, I know what’s happening with friends and family who live near and far.  I skip past reposts and long quotes.  I read personal updates.  I marvel over pictures of sunsets, hummingbirds, and old barns.  I take virtual trips to Italy, the Great Smoky Mountains, and the beach.  And then I see the best pictures of all.  Pictures of my Grands.  So I linger, longer than fifteen minutes.

Yes, I do the online social networking thing.  And I’m pretty sure that the creators of Facebook never imagined how much this grandmother would appreciate their invention.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Family, Friends, Technology | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

Who’s the Tomato Queen?

Posted on August 23, 2012 by susanrray

June declared that her mother is the Queen of Tomatoes. I really don’t like to argue with friends, but June didn’t know my mother when she and Dad grew a huge vegetable garden.
Mom served tomatoes every meal. Sliced, with eggs and bacon for breakfast, on a BLT sandwich for lunch, and chopped in coleslaw or quartered for supper.
Mom canned tomato juice, whole tomatoes, and tomato soup with vegetables. No tomato – not even a green one – went to waste. At the end of the growing season, green tomatoes were sliced, coated with cornmeal and fried. Fried green tomatoes. Delicious. And if there were too many green tomatoes to fry before the first killing frost in the fall, Mom picked them from the vines. Then she wrapped them, individually, in a torn piece of old newspaper and laid them in a single layer on a cardboard tray. The green tomatoes were stored, with hopes that they would ripen, in the darkest corner of the basement. The unused coal bin. And when those tomatoes turned light pink or red, she cooked them in spaghetti sauce or with Salisbury steak.
June said that her mother, Nell, buys home grown tomatoes from neighbors. “Searching for, talking about, and preserving tomatoes all loom large in my mom’s life each summer. She would never consider serving a meal of fresh summer vegetables and hot cornbread without luscious, fresh tomatoes.” Nell handles each tomato with special care. Wrapped in tissue paper. “Each Christmas she collects used tissue paper –all colors – and cuts perfect squares. She gently wraps all tomatoes, one by one, and places them on small trays and stores them on the floor under her bed.” There an air vent provides the perfect storage temperature. Nell’s tomatoes go straight from under her bed to the dinner table. (And all these years I thought my kitchen counter was the perfect storage place for ripe tomatoes.)
At the end of the season, Nell buys whatever tomatoes she can find. Red and green and all shades in between. She even travels fifty miles from her home in South Pittsburg to Pikeville to buy the best green tomatoes around. She wants to serve homegrown tomatoes as long as possible. It’s a sad moment when she announces, “These are the last of the home grown tomatoes.”
Nell’s goal is to serve tomatoes for her family’s Thanksgiving dinner. If she can keep them until November, that accomplishment comes with bragging rights. June said, “Although we are thankful for the turkey and fixings, we always talk about and wonder how long those tomatoes stayed under Mom’s bed. My mom truly is the Queen of Tomatoes.”
Does Nell’s wrapping each homegrown tomato in squares of Christmas tissue paper and sleeping with tomatoes under her bed trump my mother’s growing and canning and storing tomatoes? Maybe. How about this? June’s mother is the reigning Tomato Queen and my mother was the former queen.

Filed under: Everyday Life, Family, Food | Tagged: , | 2 Comments »

Tomatoes – So Many Ways

Posted on August 15, 2012 by susanrray

I simply said, “I ate one of my favorite summer lunches today. Home grown tomatoes and cucumbers with cottage cheese.” You’d thought I’d violated a chiseled–in-stone code of ethics for eating summer’s reddest fruit. Didn’t I know that plain, with a little salt, is the best way to eat a tomato? That question made me curious so I asked a few friends, “What’s your favorite way to eat summer tomatoes?” Answers varied as much as the size and shape of garden tomatoes.
Janet likes the little ones, cherry tomatoes, like the kind she picked and ate while standing in her Grandpa’s garden. Jim wants a whole meal. “Peeled, sliced, and lightly salted tomatoes. With fried taters and cornbread, and a thin slice of Vidalia onion.” Linda’s choice is a grilled tomato. Rachel bakes tomatoes pies. Drew stuffs tomatoes with tuna salad. Karen goes German with a tomato and onion salad, topped with a vinegar and olive oil dressing.
Almost everyone told me to store tomatoes on the kitchen counter, never in the refrigerator. Except Leslie, she likes tomatoes, cold, peeled, and sliced. Kathy refused to be limited to one favorite way. She said, “I love a big thick slice of tomato on bread (I’m guessing soft, white sandwich bread) with mayo and bologna. I love tomatoes with meatloaf and green beans and new potatoes. I love tomato pie. I love tomatoes in a pasta salad with fresh basil. And more.”
And there are other sandwiches. My sister-in-law, Susan said, “I like a warm just-off-the-vine-tomato between a couple of slices of bread with just a bit of salt and mayo.” Angie choice is a cheese and tomato sandwich with Miracle Whip. Sara eats a BLT, heavy on the T. Allen makes a unique sandwich: peanut butter, Miracle Whip, tomato, lettuce and onion. Jane’s tomato sandwich is open-face sprinkled with mozzarella cheese and olive oil, with homegrown basil on the side,
Many think that a straight-off-the-vine tomato, eaten hand to mouth, is best. And maybe it’s because of our raising. Brenda said she did exactly what I did. “When I was a child, I’d pick a bright red tomato in the garden. And I’d stand right there beside the tomato plant and eat it and let the juice ran down my face and hands.” Now we slice or quarter a tomato, sprinkle it with salt, and use a fork.
As a kid, Tricia ate just-picked tomatoes like she’d eat an apple. “Now, that I know how to handle a knife, I go to the extra trouble to skin them, but I still love to stand at the sink (preferably without an audience) and go to town with the salt shaker, eating tomatoes until I get full or eat all of them.” Tricia added, “My favorite way is the most basic, humble, messy way there is.”
I agree that pulling a tomato from the vine and eating it like an apple is the best way to enjoy the its flavor. That’s a snack, not lunch. And since my neighbor Ozzie just delivered a few tomatoes picked from his garden twenty minutes ago, it’s snack time.

Next week: How to preserve garden tomatoes to serve for Thanksgiving dinner.

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