Mama Bear's Green Thumb ..... or the lack thereof

Mama Bear is blessed with a green thumb. After reading about the meticulously kept kitchen garden by Pioneer Woman and the beautifully manicured container gardens in urns complete with felines by The Country Doctor's Wife, I felt I simply had to share my horticultural abilities with the world.


Behold my large pink flowers, Latin name humungous pinkus. Planted long ago to cover the west side of our screen porch, these flowers measure 14 inches across. I'm sure there is another name for them. Perhaps someone from Cornell can enlighten us. Or not.


These are our twice fruiting raspberries, now on their second harvest of the summer. I received this plant in 1995, a gift from the 4 year old who lived behind us at that time. Appropriately, this house warming gift arrived in a Dixie cup and was perhaps 2" tall. She didn't warn me that this is actually a weed that grows around these parts. Four year olds are like that. Once one of these hits the soil, it takes over, and you can never get rid of it. Never. Ever. This particular plant is at least twenty feet away from that original Dixie cup. And about five feet into my lawn.




Grapes. We live in grape country. The Finger Lakes region of NY State produces some of the finest wines in the USA. But not from these grapes. These grow wild in my backyard. They are mainly skin and seeds with just a bit of meat to produce a drop of juice.

Like my raspberries, each fall we dig these up, untangle the vines and haul them to the town recycling drop off where we bid our adieus and watch them get turned into mulch. And every spring they find their way home. Perhaps I should just give in and try my hand at making wine? I think there is enough here for a tablespoon or two.




This is my 3 year old sweet cherry tree. Apparently our neighborhood deer also thought it was sweet.


Last but not least, my secret garden. Very carefully planned out for just the right amount of textures and shades of green. Note the wild grape and Virginia creeper meticulously trained to climb the chestnut and red bud trees. This gardenscape holds the piece d'resistance, our water element, which no landscape should be without. Our natural spring fed creek runs through the backyard. After a rain, it can be a rushing 4 foot deep gully, but most of the time there is just a pleasant 2" deep trickle of ice cold refreshment. Just enough water for the deer to wash down the remnants of my cherry tree.

I'd show you my vegetable garden, but the deer got to that too. Have you ever seen tomato topiary?

September Sunsets

Red in the morning, all should take warning.
Red at night, all will delight.

First Day of School

Tomorrow is the first day of school for our district. The buses made a practice run today. All the teachers made their last minute preparations. In my elementary school, the students were given a time to come in, meet their teachers, drop off their school supplies, find their desks, in short, a snapshot of what tomorrow holds.

As an educator, I look forward to seeing all their bright, cheerful faces. As a parent, I also know what this day holds. To hand off your most beloved possession, entrust them to a total stranger, allow them to mold your child -- it's a lesson in faith. Our children are not really our possessions, but they possess our hearts. And I thank every parent for entrusting me with their most adored little one.

The bus no longer stops by our den. Our youngest cub has crossed the stage into a new and exciting chapter of life. We measure our lives in our children. Perhaps that is why I'm so excited to be at the other end of this educational spectrum, to have little ones in my life.


This morning, I found a poem in my folder. As a former "world of business" person, I do so appreciate the perspective of all sides. I recall a conversation with a business man, manager of a pie company, who spouted that education should be run just as a business is run, to be most effective with the taxpayer's dollars. So I asked him, what he did when he received a load of berries that were dented, underdeveloped, or not quite ripe; did he make his pies from them? "Why, no! That would not make very good pies. I'd throw them out or send them back. I pride myself on producing quality." "Well, in public education," I replied, "we don't have the privilege of selecting only the very best kids to educate. We take every child, those who've faced challenges and those who have not developed as quickly, and we nurture them, inspire them, and hopefully turn out minds who continue to love learning all their lives." Education is not like any other business.

What Teachers Make
By Taylor Mali

The dinner guests were sitting around the table
discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain
the problem with education.
He argued:
"What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided
his best option in life was to become a teacher?"

He reminded the other dinner guests that it's true
what they say about teachers:
"Those who can.... do. Those who can't... teach."

To corroborate, he said to another guest:
"You're a teacher, Susan. Be honest. What do you make?"
Susan, who had a reputation of honesty and frankness, replied,
"You want to know what I make?"

"I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could.
I can make a C+ feel like a Congressional Medal of Honor
and an A- feel like a slap in the face
if the student did not do his or her very best."

"I can make kids sit through 40 minutes of study hall
in absolute silence.
I can make parents tremble in fear when I call home."

"You want to know what I make?"

"I make kids wonder.
I make them question.
I make them criticize.
I make them apologize and mean it.
I make them write.
I make them read, read, read."

"I make them spell definitely beautiful, definitely beautiful,
and definitely beautiful over and over and over again,
until they never misspell either one of those words again."

"I make them show all their work in math
and hide it all on their final drafts in English."

"I make them understand that if you have the brains,
then follow your heart ...
and if someone ever tries to judge you
by what you make, you pay them no attention!"

"You know what I make?"

"I make a difference."

"And you? What do you make?"