Keeping Time

I remember being a girl and going to summer camp for the first time, for a week. I was probably nine or so. The anticipation was unbelievable! Of course I had to get all new clothes (why??) so there was the shopping weeks in advance. Then I packed my suitcase, at least two weeks ahead. Then I unpacked and repacked it several times. Now, I know that I was obsessive, because my sons never behaved like this before going to Boy Scout Camp - just the opposite, we'd be flying around town the day before - getting last minute necessities. But those three weeks as a child waiting for camp went so slowly, I thought the time would never come.

When you are a child, there are so many momentous events, that in your mind they become a placeholder that you mark time by. Trivial things are paced by the more life-changing, like, "I got that new skirt before I went to see Romeo and Juliet."

Later, there were the children's births and family events that hold a place in time in my mind, that other events are relative to. We moved to the mountains six months after Tristan was born. Nathan got bitten by Rupert soon after we moved to Winston-Salem. Matthew lost his pinky just before we went to Nag's Head, in seventh grade, the last year we lived on Bridle Path. Justin was a toddler when my father died, and eleven,, I believe, when my mother died. When there's a death in the family it is a dramatic marker because it changes the dynamics, as well as the routines and traditions of the family.

I wonder how it is for people who don't have children to mark their places in time, to grab their attention away from the mundane. Do couples go from weekend to weekend, eating at restaurants, buying a new car, painting the kitchen? To say, years later, um, yeah I think that was in 2001, remember, dear, we put new carpet down. Instead of saying, 2001, remember, that was the year we took state in football, remember how the weather was so crappy we always took huge sheets of plastic to cover up with? Remember how they had to keep sweeping the snow off the field?

There were years in there, where the kids were growing, and we weren't all that happy about the direction our lives were going, and it seemed that time passed slowly and without events of note. No plans, no long term goals, just go to work, get a check, pay the bills, hope there's enough left for groceries - for four starving boys.

We built this house with our sons in 1995, and right now I'm looking at two gorgeous maple trees, I'd guess thirty feet tall, that we planted soon after we moved in. I wanted to be sure that there were young trees growing up around the house to take the place of the older ones, when they die. They may have a long time left, but when they do, we won't be left with a treeless lawn. Our neighbors, who moved a few years after us, haven't planted any young native trees, and they've lost many trees due to careless construction. The nature of their yard has changed from a woodland, to an open lot with a few trees and ornamentals. Each year goes by and I wonder why they aren't doing something to maintain the population of the native forest trees. Procrastination.

Time still passes, no matter how we ignore it. On Monday of this week Greg mowed the grass around the house so the leaves would be easier to get up; today the leaves are almost all on the ground. And I've not walked in the woods for weeks.

I like to think of my time as open ended, though it takes conscious thought sometimes. I catch myself thinking of the future in terms of "this will probably be our last trip to Maine," or "I probably won't see the fall leaves again." But what I want to think is about all these trees we have planted, this year lots of nut trees, and a few years ago a small orchard. Two years ago when I found out I was metastatic, I asked for a ginkgo and the boys got a big one. They are extremely long lived and hardy. I don't want to get into the trap of not planting and building for the future because I won't be here for them, but to remember that others will. We have to live on the earth as though it has a future beyond ours, and our stewardship is meant to benefit the generations yet to come.






The best cream of broccoli soup.

You'll need

A big bunch of fresh broccoli
an onion, rough chopped
A clove of garlic, rough chopped
about a quart of Half and Half, fat free, regular, or a combination

In a three quart pot, put a couple of inches or water on to boil. Throw in the chopped onion, and the garlic. Chop the dried up ends of the stalks off and throw them away, then cut the rest of the stalk into chunks (half inch to an inch) and throw them into the pot with the onions. Put the lid on and turn down to a fast simmer, for about ten - twelve minutes. Next chop the tops or just divide the stalks, and thrown them in. Add salt and pepper. Let this cook until it's well done, about ten minutes.

Now scoop out the veggies into a bowl. This is a good time to boil off some of the water left in the pot if you think you have too much. About an inch should be right. Puree the veggies in a blender or food processor in batches, adding some of the liquid from the pot, then put them back into the pot. Add the half and half to the consistency you like. Check for salt and pepper, heat it up, and serve. It's good with a little fresh parmesan on top, but not necessary. This is great diet food if you use all fat free half and half, because it's tasty and quite filling.