Gardening in July

"Sixty, sixty, sixty,"
I intone to myself.
I am crawling in the dirt
between the rows.
I smell tomatoes and basil,
maybe green beans; now dill.

It is a day without
obligations
if you don't count vacuuming
or cooking.
Those are just things I should do,
not commitments.

As we came back from walking the dog,
Ray went in the house
to get ready to leave for work.
I wandered into the garden.
No gloves, no hat, no kneeling pad,
no tools.

I admired the growing plants,
And then I couldn't stop myself.
I bent over to pull up a weed.
Then another...grasses and mimosa,
things I recognize from years spent
pulling them out.

In just a minute,
my back starts hurting
(sixty, sixty, sixty).
I change to squatting
to keep pulling weeds.

Before long I have given up--
I'm sitting in the dirt,
soft and damp
from last week's rain;
it is perfect for pulling weeds
and admiring vegetables.

It is hot, but early enough in the day,
and the tomatoes are tall enough
to shade me from the slanting sun.
The birds call,
I wish I knew their names.
The cicadas are buzzing.
It will be a hot day.

Eventually I find
I am lying on the dirt
full-length, still pulling things up.

The bees are starting to be busy (bzzy)...
I don't want to be in the way,
keep them from their job
pollinating cucumbers, tomatoes, beans...

I move on to the melons and pumpkins,
just coming up.
Several to a hill,
I reluctantly pull one or two
of the less healthy looking baby plants.
It is better for the rest,
but still hurts my heart.

There are so many weeds,
young and easy to pull.
The mint is spreading everywhere,
in the beds and the paths,
but I don't pull it up.
The bees are happy that it is blossoming.

I find some onions
that were ready to dig up
weeks ago.
Their tops are missing
and they sit waiting for me,
with their pointy brown heads.
They are smaller
than the ones I can buy,
but they're mine
for the taking.

***

Yesterday I went walking with a 15-year-old,
two miles around the lake.
She did not complain,
she was not tired.
She did not wake up sore
this morning.

I was 15 once.
I didn't know to appreciate
my strength and health
and resilience.

But then, my father is 88.
He is strong and healthy,
still prone to gardening,
as he likes to say.

Perhaps 60 is okay.
Perhaps I will like 60.

***

A woman died this week,
A woman I don't think I ever met.
She was not old,
in her 60s (that's not old now).
No one knows what killed her.
It was a drug-resistant infection.
She got sick and went to the hospital
and died a few weeks later.
They couldn't save her there.

I think I will stay home,
and maybe not invite anyone to visit.

Tamara's Story

Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God! I can't believe it's real! I'm finally arriving in Boston to live!

My mother died a year and a half ago. She was the person I loved most in the world--although she drove me crazy sometimes with her rules and trying to run my life!

I never knew my father; we didn't even talk about him. My older brother, Carlos, was like a father to me. He took care of me and my mother, well, the things my Mom didn't take care of. He is 13 years older than me and moved out when I was very young. Most of the time, we saw him at least once a week for dinner on Sunday. He would fix things around the house and my Mom would make his favorite food, antojitos.

Carlos was always nice to me and treated me fairly. He let me make up my own mind about things, the opposite of my mother, but he was not very huggy and kissy. Sometimes I liked that about my Mom.

He was in college, studying philosophy, when he met Maria. She had come to Mexico to study for six months at the university where Carlos was a student. I liked her a lot too, and so did my Mom. She became part of the family and came with Carlos whenever he visited. She was from the United States, the first American I ever met. She came back after she graduated to be with Carlos, when the U. S. wouldn't let him visit her there. She made a cake for my birthday--it was so good! We saw her almost every week, too, starting when I was only 7. My Mom said she made Carlos happy and she made him a better person, too. He studied more and got a job and didn't go out as much with his other friends.

Maria's family came to visit her in Mexico twice. They were really nice and lots of fun. They took Carlos on trips with them: to the beach, eating in restaurants, even staying in hotels. Carlos and Maria talked about them a lot. Maria's Dad is a professor at the University of Georgia. He and Carlos had long philosophical discussions, which is funny because her Dad doesn't speak Spanish, except for a few words. Carlos didn't speak much English, but he is learning. We got to meet them and we all got along well.

My Mom and I flew to Georgia for their wedding. Neither of us had been out of Mexico before or even on a plane. We were pretty nervous and excited to go. Maria's parents live in a really big house out in the country. Their city is much smaller than ours. We had our own room and bathroom. Maria and Carlos had theirs upstairs and there was one for her parents, too. Maria's sister stayed with her boyfriend, Kevin, and his parents, just down the road. Carlos and Kevin became good friends. Their house was big, too, and they had a hot tub. I was about 13 then.

The wedding at their church was beautiful and the party afterward was really fun. I had a new dress and got to walk down the aisle. Maria's little cousin, Lidet, was the flower girl. She looked beautiful and did a great job spreading petals. There was lots of singing and talking, mostly in English. Maria's Mom and her aunts sang one of Carlos's favorite songs, "What a Wonderful World." I didn't understand all of the words, but everyone was very happy. People took lots of pictures of all of us.

Maria had many friends from her college and some of Carlos's friends from Mexico came too. When Maria and Carlos went on their honeymoon, Mom and I stayed with Maria's parents for a few days. One day we went and picked buckets full of strawberries. We ate them every day, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. They were so good. We put some in the freezer for later, too.

The four of us flew back to Mexico after the honeymoon. The next year, they moved to the United States. We missed them a lot. We still got together with my aunts and grandparents, but it wasn't the same without Carlos and Maria. We talked to them sometimes on the computer.

At first, they lived in Maria's hometown, working to save money. Carlos did yard work, cleaning, and painted houses. He is very smart and had graduated from college, but he couldn't get a real job until he got a work permit from the U.S. government.

In the fall, they moved to Boston. Maria wanted to be a lawyer and help people from Mexico. That was why she had come to study there in the beginning, before she met Carlos. There are many Mexicans in the United States and if they are accused of a crime, they need a lawyer they can speak to in Spanish. Maria and Carlos visited Washington and New York, but they liked Boston best, so that is where she was going to law school.

My brother loved Boston. He took long walks and arranged everything in the apartment just right. He found free furniture for them, and then had to get it up the four flights of stairs! He couldn't get a job until his work permit was approved. Maria had relatives there and friends from college that he got to know. They had dinner parties and he drove to Georgia with one of them to get the dog, Osa, that had moved with them from Mexico. Maria's family visited them at Thanksgiving time and they all stayed in the apartment together before driving to visit Maria's grandmother and aunts and cousins.

At Christmas time, when Maria's classes were finished, they flew to Georgia to visit Maria's family. They had fun. My Mom and I were visiting my grandparents, too, when my Mom got sick. The day after Christmas, I woke up and she wasn't breathing or moving. The ambulance came and took her to the hospital.  They got her breathing through a tube. I was so sad and frightened. Carlos flew home to Mexico from Georgia. and was at the hospital when she woke up.

My poor Mama! She was so scared. She didn't want to die and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Carlos stayed in the hospital with her most of the time. I didn't want to go to school, but they really wanted me to. She was getting better, but then she got pneumonia. One day, she just stopped breathing. It was terrible. Maria came from Boston for the funeral. She and Carlos made the arrangements and took care of things. We were all so sad, we couldn't do anything but cry. I was 14 years old.

Maria went back to school after a week, but Carlos stayed with me in our house. I didn't like going to school, but staying home wasn't much fun either. Carlos started getting rid of the furniture; we didn't even have a stove! He talked to me and our grandparents and we all decided that I should live with him and Maria in Boston. Carlos arranged to have a lawyer go to court and ask for him to be my guardian. He applied for some money from the government because my Mom worked for them before she died. He tried to sell the house, but that didn't work out.

Carlos flew back to Boston for a little while in April to get his green card. He had to answer lots of questions and Maria couldn't help him. One of her friends interpreted the questions into Spanish for him and his answers into English. Then he came home and got a job in Mexico, so he could take care of me. It took a long time to get the money from the government.

They got another lawyer to help them apply for me to come to the United States, but it took almost a year before they said yes. I had to go to Mexico City (with Carlos, of course). It is five hours on the bus from where I lived. I had to answer questions and they took my fingerprints. Two days later, I left my friends and relatives. Maria met us in the airport. She wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any problems with my permit to come to the U.S. (my visa). I was sad to leave and excited for my new life.

Now I am here, I will make new friends and work hard in school and to learn English. I am glad to be with Maria. She takes care of me. I am learning to cook! I miss Carlos. He is still trying to take care of everything in Mexico and he has a job there. I hope he will come soon. Maria misses him too. I miss my dog, but I like their dog Osa, too. Maybe one day I will go back to visit Mexico and my friends and relatives, but I hope I can live here for the rest of my life. I love my new country!

Monday morning

All over the world, people are waking up and rushing around, getting ready for work, being unhappy that this is Monday morning. For me, however, this is the first day of my weekend. I am sore from working for the last few days and looking forward to some relaxation. I bake cookies and sell them at farmers' markets on the weekend.

Ah, Spring!

And an old woman's fancy turns to thoughts of...gardening? I will be 60 this year...I don't know what I thought 60 would be like, but this isn't it...maybe that I would be decrepit and unable to walk or function...which is certainly not the case. But neither do I feel wise or content to happily look back over my life. I am still as conflicted as ever, not feeling like my life has made the difference it should have, but very pleased and grateful that I have never been hungry, never lacked a bed to sleep in...unless you count the time I was hitchhiking to Canada with another student from Middlebury and slept in the hallway of some kind of office building in Swanton, VT (is that a real place or did I just make it up?). They didn't let us into Canada when we couldn't give a good reason for going there and answered truthfully that we only had about $10 between us. I guess nowadays most students would have credit cards and would be able to get in...

Ever the optimist, I still hope for the chance to do something remarkable with my one short life, but I feel time running out for that to happen. 

Meanwhile, I have a good life, such as it is. Food to eat, a companion to share it with, a lovely home, even a good dog. I just want more, I want to make a difference, do something exciting, interesting, useful...

This is the end of tax season, only a few more weeks to make as much money as I can, and rest up the remainder of the year. Last year, I made about $15,000, including the hours I spent teaching the Introductory Tax Class in Atlanta. Many people I know make 10 times that much in a year...and a few people that I don't know personally make 100 or 1000  times that much. On the other hand, there are those who make less, quite a bit less, and don't have a well-paid partner to support them in the style to which they are accustomed. I have met many of them at the tax office, people with disabilities or minimum-wage part-time jobs. Today's was a stock clerk. His mother died last year and a relative came with him. I suspect he is what some would call "slow." He is working, but someone must be helping him because he could not live on what he makes. Maybe his mother left him the house and all he pays for is his groceries. Perhaps as a stock clerk, he gets a discount on them. 

Many people a lot older than me come to the tax office...one 97, one 93, some with walkers or canes. Some are wealthy and some are poor, but that has little bearing on their quality of life. A couple of retirees came in and we laughed our way through the tax interview. "At least I can still laugh," he said. He used to teach at the university and has a good retirement income, plus investments he is slowly cashing in. They both appear to be in good health, so the assisted living isn't eating all his money. "He knows how to pay the bills and keep up with the finances," she said, "in case I go first." So many of my women friends had no  idea what to do about things when their husbands died. One didn't even know what bank the account was at."

Vacation Ends

I've been looking forward to this day for almost a year. On the one hand, I can't wait to do a better job now that I know what I'm doing. On the other hand, I'm pretty nervous about it. I have only two experienced tax pros returning--plus myself--and a bunch of lovely people fresh out of training. I have tried to make up a schedule that gives everyone some hours, but some of these people I have not even met yet! I am afraid I will be working lots of nights and weekends, but it will be fine. It's only for a few months.

There's so much to do, I woke up really early. We have to make sure everyone is on board to use the new software. There was lots of training, but we have to look at the latest update and do 10 or more case studies and see how it works when we have actual clients.

There are some major changes to the tax law, well, one, really. We have to ask every client if they have health insurance. If not, they may have to pay a penalty and they will have to fill out forms. Some clients are going to be very unhappy to lose their expected refund. Even if they do have health insurance, if they got it from the Marketplace (Exchanges), there is more paperwork and the possibility that their subsidy was too large (or too small), which might change their refund or amount due. Lots to learn and changes to anticipate. We have to call clients and get appointments made and do other marketing. So, I can't wait to get started, but I'm a little stressed.

Ray has been working really hard since New Year's to get in lots of walking. He is keeping track of what he eats and making sure he burns more calories than he takes in. I, of course, benefit as well, but we do spend a lot of time and energy discussing things like how much potato was in that soup I made (corn chowder with ham--very yummy).

We had a lovely lunch yesterday with John Z and Gini and John O and Deb--and Nathan. We tried to eat at the Vietnamese place -- closed. We tried the Sultan -- closed. We landed at Chonell's where we enjoyed Southern-style food that is a little less greasy than usual. We went to hear the Solstice Sisters at the library and they were great. We probably knew almost half the people there, mostly UU's.

Walked a mile in the rain. I have some great rain boots that were my mother's, but they are not great for long walks. My feet slide back and forth and they don't support my back like my good boots. I have been saying I would buy some new hiking boots for myself for a few years and I will look for waterproof ones. I think I am a little afraid to buy them. They are expensive and breaking in new hiking boots can be painful.

My mood is a little variable the last few days. I did spend several hours entering expenses from 2014, instead of going to the movies with our friends. This should make me feel good, right? Maybe it will in the long run. Of course, there's always a let down after my family leaves, and the weather has not improved my mood. I just keep telling myself how lucky I am to have a warm fire and a cozy couch and a pile of books to read...not to mention a life partner who does a lot of the dirty work, like bringing in the firewood and washing the dishes.

We have also somewhat virtuously eaten up all our leftovers instead of going out to eat or cooking more. The ham bone turned into a delicious pea soup yesterday, and I have 2 cups of finely chopped ham for an omelet or something like it tonight.

Book Review

Mrs. Pollifax on Safari by Dorothy Gilman
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I admit that Mrs. Pollifax is not great literature, but I really enjoy the premise. This LOL (little old lady) spends most of her time at home taking care of flowers...and yet, every now and then, she flies off to work for the CIA as a spy. Of course, no one would suspect her...she also knows karate. This adventure is in Africa, and the setting is definitely part of the appeal. Of course, it's very light and I never have to worry that anything bad will happen to the heroine. Not really a mystery, hardly a suspense novel...


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