Category Archives: small town USA

Not Gardening in Eden

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Yesterday morning my daily Bible reading was Genesis, the creation story. It’s a very beautiful and mysterious story: the water was already there, it had to be gathered, there needed to be separations of many things. It never fails to move me and ignite my curiosity.

Especially yesterday, because after the Earth is full of plants and other things, dominion over them is given to the humans. I was thinking happy thoughts about the long line of connectedness with me putting in a garden, working with seeds and dirt, reaching back to God giving humans the first garden. That whole blowing it thing and the expulsion could wait. Give me my moment.

That moment was coming. Our friend Philip arrived to help, and he weeded one bed while I put up supports for peas in another. Then I went and got a truckload of dirt and compost to amend some soil; it took us 21 wheelbarrow loads to get it in the right places. By 2 pm, that 8 am “what a glorious thing to participate in” was more like “when is this going to be over.”

I doubt muscles in the Garden of Eden screamed “what the hell Lady” at Eve in the afternoon. I doubt their chickens decided eating new seed was better than eating grubs–which we were feeding them every time we found one. I know for a fact that Adam never had a blister on his baby toe from dirt getting inside his shoe and rubbing–they weren’t wearing shoes.

According to the story, at that time getting good food from the plants didn’t involve having to grow them yourself. Taking a line from Genesis, I snipped a bunch of fresh hosta shoots for dinner. Free food we didn’t grow, tasty for the taking. Philip, his partner Geoffrey, Jack and I sat down to last year’s carrots canned overwinter, the hosta shoots, and some nice Scottish Sausage patties Jack put together for us.

Go by mad world. Gardening may not be Eden, and my muscles may have the vocabulary of sailors this morning given the obscenities they are offering up with each move, but it was still fun.

School days then and now

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Jack gets over the line early again – –

I’m always fascinated by the ‘school run’ here in the morning and afternoon. So very different from my memories of going to school in Scotland.

Here the early run starts around 7.45 and continues in an orderly fashion until 8.00, when there’s a brief lull, then a mad rush between 8.05 and 8.15. The elementary school is just a block from us and the streets around it are reserved for drop off of the kids. Then from 2.30 until 3.00 the whole thing happens in reverse. I assume that the early morning run is parents who start work at 8.00 and the second one is probably stay at home Moms. Then there are the school buses as well and I imagine there will be many ‘latch key’ kids going home in them in the afternoon.

My memories are very different. Very few people had cars back then and most primary (elementary) schools were within walking distance. So my Grandad who lived with us walked me down in the morning and walked me back at the end of the school day. My older sister made her own way and I rarely saw her during the day as the school was divided into two sections – one for older kids and one for younger ones. The playground was also divided with a low wall between them. Back then all the teachers were single women and if they got married they were immediately required to resign. All the head teachers were men and they were expected to be married! Corporal punishment was how discipline was maintained and administered with a leather strap called a ‘tawse’ which were made in a nearby town and specially designed. I have distinct memories of receiving ‘six of the best’ on the palm of my hand on a number of occasions.

There was no system of ‘middle schools’ in Scotland and there still isn’t, so kids go straight from primary school to high school at age eleven – a very traumatic experience!

Despite all that I have mostly happy memories of those days – –