Ezra's Homecoming

A Lovely Week In Florida

Man vs. Nature

A sting to the face and two stings to the leg from pesky yellow jackets. All in a week. Two hives of vicious yellow jackets and one hive of wasps have claimed  space in my backyard. The two stings to the calf came while stepping down into the pool area: looking forward to a fresh dip in the water, body barely covered (swimsuit). When the gate swung open, the yellow jackets attacked. Yellow jackets also made-home in a crack on the stairs into the forest, so when Mr. Martinez and I went for a walk, they attacked us both. Mr. M. was just a bit quicker in brushing off the pest than I was. I sustained an allergic reaction, of course, and for a week now have sported a swollen neck which makes me look like a dowdy old man with a double chin. Think Winston Churchill.

Wasps, having made their home in the crook of the pool slide,  stung an unsuspecting guest. So, Mr. Martinez and I have been wasp-busters carrying around cans of wasp spray, duct tape all the while dressed like terrorists with ski masks-donned in desperation after Mr. M. was stung at least six times while cutting back the foilage to get at the opening of the nest.

Two squirrels have made their home in the trees. I have caught one scratching at the new black tarp and today I stood less than two feet away from a bold little fellow ripping up the soft batting of a cushion on an outdoor chair. I thought my presence would have discouraged his bad-boy behavior but no, as if he was laughing at me, he kept right on ripping until his mouth was full of soft white cotton.

Have I mentioned the bats, the mosquitoes and the ants? The deer that ate the tops off the tomato plants when someone left the gate open?

Ah, this battle with nature...woman vs. nature, is also subtitled under woman fascinated with nature and woman entertained by nature.

Last night I swam to the end  of the pool (faster than Phelps), and sat in the water watching the movement of an ant. One tenth the size of a dead bee, he carried it on the edge of the pool so the weight of the bee hung below him. Thinking the ant and his prized find would fall into the pool, I pushed the dead bee onto flat ground. The ant fussed and moved back to the edge of the concrete so the carcass once again hung below. It was easier for the ant to move the bee while it hung! Fascinating.

I spent hours yesterday morning beefing up my soil with peet moss (Remember the preserved, ancient bodies found in peet bogs)? --all the while entertained by the two squirrels who are either best friends or enemies. I couldn't decide if their antics were war or play. They chased each other across the pool cover. I imagined the soft plastic with the movement of the water underneath them is strange but joyful. At one point, each squirrel at opposite ends of the fence, ran towards the other squirrel. On impact, they both let out a war cry, then kept chasing each other throughout the yard.

Did I mention that the deer in the forest appear to be triplet babies? That the emergence of the bats at night is a kind of ritual? That when I get my first mosquito bite of the evening, it's my signal that I've worked long enough and it's time to go in?

It is a common theme of literature, of life, this man vs. nature. But just as common a theme is: man loves nature. Stings et al.

Fourth Generation Book Lover

This morning I went down to wake up Max and Annika because their mother was at an exercise class and their father on business (their house closes next Tuesday). I've done this once before and previously, their light was off and they were as reluctant to wake up as a bear in the middle of winter hibernation. Imagine my surprise when the light was on, Max was dressing and Annika was making her bed.

"What's happening, you're both up!" I exclaimed.
"I couldn't sleep any longer," Max answered, "I'm so excited for the book fair."
My heart melts--and I remember being moved to tears when I saw the Scholastic book truck parked in front of the school. All the possibility, creativity and adventure in that one truck!

I was so thrilled with their actions that I did the Hookilau dance for them. What a moment.

I headed up stairs for breakfast and Max followed minutes later fully dressed, backpack on, and requisite gun slung over his back.

He came up to continue our book discussion. I learned of a series on the Titanic and his other book loves.

"You love books because your mom loves books and I love books and even my mom loves books. She always has a book she's reading."

"Grandma Zobrist loves books too?"

"OH yes."

I said good bye and pulled out of the garage. I was out in the street when little boy Max startled me by running out into the street with a smile on his face.

I rolled down the window, "What is it?"
He stood silent.
I stuck my cheek out, "Here, give me a kiss."
He exhuberantly complied.
"That's why I came out."
Heart melts a second time.

That morning I told the story to my class ending with the advice, "If you want to be kissed, talk about books."

A Tamara Story

Our dear friend Tamara Cardon is going on a mission with Bob to the temple in Bolivia. The mission president called her and told her that it is the poorest ward/stake/branch in the church. She was instructed to bring very simple clothes. We all love how Tammy dresses and know this is going to be an adjustment.
She told a story of a young family, father, mother and two year old child, that saved money knitting sweaters to earn their way to the temple. The day came when they were catching the bus for a six hour ride to the temple. When the bus pulled up it was crowded and there were no seats. They offered to stand. "No," they were told, "all the standing room is taken." The couple watched how people put some of their belongings under the bus in the compartment beneath. They asked if they could ride in the bottom of the bus. The answer was yes, they crawled in the bottom of the bus with their two year old and made the journey.

Two Wild Indians

What Else Are You Supposed To Do For Your 51st Birthday

This is the photo after we went skydiving. I was a little queazy and shocked that I'd just had the super surreal experience of jumping from an airplane. Tony gave this present to me on May 5th but I didn't take him up on the present until September. Everytime I thought of skydiving, I broke out into a sweat. So I carefully kept putting him off. And patient, loving soul that he his, he just patiently waited.

The motivator was my odyssey for the school year. This is the third year I've challenged students to do an odyssey. The first year, I didn't even do it and it was a very informal request. The second year, I made the kayak trip of the Napali Coast my odyssey. I knew I'd do an odyssey every year for the rest of my life. Kind of like a pilgrimage.

Several of the students mentioned that they wanted to skydive. I told them about my husband's present but that I was too chicken. Even telling them brought sweat to my armpits. Then I chose it as my odyssey for the year and a false bravado arrived to at least book the experience.

An odyssey is an adventurous journey often fraught with peril. It requires some sacrifice. This fulfilled both of those requirements that I require of my students. It gave me the courage to go through with the dive. I was relatively relaxed-I knew I was going through with it, so I enjoyed the pre-jump process.

When it came right down to it, I knew there was no choice and I was determined to experience it to the fullest. When actually jumping out of the plane, I was supposed to put my head back, but I wanted to look desperately. The instructor ended up pulling my head back. I wonder now if it was only so the newbie parachutist didn't freak out. It went all too fast and I was loving it, though thoroughly scared.

It wasn't until the tandem jumper started guiding the parachute that it made me sick. Other than that, it was truly amazing. And surprisingly the landing was smooth.

I would go again. Really.

After thought: It was a Friday night and PJ had just completed her first week of college and dorm life. I guess she came home that night expecting us to be sitting around lamenting her moving on and away. She walked in the door and asked, "Where's Mom and Dad?"
To which Holly replied, "They're skydiving."
To which she was totally shocked. How appropriate.