Time Machine Tea Party

On the left is Faolan, around her 2nd birthday in March, 2010.  On the right is her great-grandmother, Ruth Woods, circa 1909.  I thought it would be neat to do a photo shoot with a similar set-up.  I got the idea when my mother brought the little frilly dress & pinafore for Faolan.  I thought it looked very sweet & old fashioned.  The tea cup from which Faolan is drinking was actually one from Grandma.  It's one of the few things I have from her.  My father took us to Grandma's every weekend, and after he died I continued the weekly visits.  Many of our visits happened over a cup of tea.  

Faolan and Grandma have a few things in common too.  They were both born in early March (7th & 10th) and Faolan is a spitfire, just like her great-grandmother.  I remember hearing Grandma tell stories about how her mother used to cry a lot because she didn't know what to do with an energetic young girl (not the quiet, sweet little angel she had imagined?).  Apparently, her grandmothers did not care for her either.  Her French grandmother would shake her head often and tsk "Rooty, Rooty, Rooty" then tell her to go home in German.  Her Irish grandmother was slightly better, but not all hugs and love either.  The way I see it, Grandma was really just ahead of her time.  She was born when children were supposed to "be seen and not heard" and girls especially were expected to be contented with quiet doll play in the background.  Women couldn't even vote during her childhood for goodness sake!  My Grandma used to do such things as climb the Chicago "L" twirl on the piano seat and climb trees in her Sunday clothes.  She was spunky, and fearless, from what I gather.  

After being told one of these stories of how out of place Grandma felt, I remember hugging her (she was tiny, my chin fit on the top of her head) and thinking to myself, I would know what to do with a strong little girl like her.  *sigh*   Well, all I can say is thank goodness I have a strong partnership with Tim!  And as my daughter's name, Faolan, or "little wolf" suggests, she is strong, energetic and beautiful!  Tim & I see parenting her as a journey in figuring out how to guide that energy in a positive way.  It's not a negative thing, or it doesn't have to be.  It is exhausting, but parenting in general is tiring.  We know she's going to do amazing things in this world.  And on top of that, she has three grandparents who love her and appreciate her tremendously.  I am confident that Faolan will grow up never questioning weather she is loved. 

      

    

Savage Squirrel Saga

                                                     

When I was five, I was bitten by a squirrel.  How the scraggly little thing could think I was trying to harm it by chasing it with a handful of grass that I was sure it wanted to eat, I don't know.  Somehow, instead of climbing a tree out of my little reach, it got scared and bit my thumb.  Then, it bit my other thumb, savagely.  I screamed, and my gallant two year old sister ran to get my mother.  My heroic mother had to actually pry the locked jaws of the squirrel off my tiny thumb.  I don't remember much after that, except a very painful shot at the hospital, and not being able to play with any of the "get well" toys because both thumbs were stitched and wrapped with gauze.  It's amazing how much we depend on our thumbs!

I mention this story so that you can understand the beginning of the savage squirrel saga.  Now that I am grown, and have a house of my own, the drama emerges as damage to my beloved flowers, and vegetables.  The squirrels are like little nasty pranksters.  Sure, I expect them to eat the birdseed & the delicious mulberries.  But the little punks leave half-eaten rotten bread & nuts in the corners of my windows on the porch, they gnaw patches of our halloween jack-o-lanterns & they EAT MY TULIPS!

Last fall I decided to splurge on an investment of beauty for the spring.  I bought a package of red double-petal tulips.  I happily planted them next to the back door where we go in the house, and where we could enjoy their rose-like beauty after a hard winter.  Indeed, the winter was hard.  Some of the largest snowfall I've ever seen.  But I knew that some day spring would come, and that seeing those beautiful tulips miraculously emerging from the frosty ground would renew my spirits.  I think I got to see one of those tulips.  The rest, savagely eaten by you know who.  The thing is, they don't actually eat the blossom.  They pop the poor little heads off and eat the base of the head.  It's a dreadful sight to see their tiny colorful heads spread around the garden like some bloody massacre.  Here is a photo.  I must warn you that this is not for the faint of heart.

Poor, poor tulips.  More recently, they have invaded my first vegetable garden.  Last year I toyed with planting summer squash in between flowers.  I think it was mildew that got to them, or maybe not enough bees to pollinate.  This year Tim dug me a little bed & I bought two butterfly bushes on clearance in the fall.  Well, pollination is fine this year, and the plants are growing like crazy.  But I've only gotten TWO SQUASH.  I looked a little closer yesterday and saw that the savage squirrels had struck again.  Now you might say that perhaps it is a rabbit, or a chipmunk or something equally darling.  But I KNOW.  I know it was THEM.  They laugh and chitter at me when I go outside.  I wonder what the neighbors think when I yell at the trees as I do.

By this time, I should not have to go to the farmers market for squash!  It is frustrating to spend energy & water and money only to feed the savage louts.  Well, this time, they crossed the line....you want to know what they did now?  *gritted teeth* They monstrously attacked my darling little gnome garden!  Poor Greta gnome adopted a wire bee with beautiful blue eyes that flew all the way from Georgia.  He wanted to be in the cooler north and experience more of the seasonal change he said.  Dear Greta was completely overtaken by his beautiful eyes, and she said they reminded her of a beloved dragonfly she used to know.  Well, I must warn you once again.  This next photo is terribly horrifying!  Poor little bee.  Poor, poor little bee.

The shock on Greta's face says it all.  The barbarous monsters STOLE THE BEE'S EYE!  Can you believe it?   I do feel responsible in some respect.  After all, it was me who invited Greta and her husband Fedmore to live there.  And though I often refer to it as Faolan's garden, the residence really belongs to the gnomes.  I should have warned them of the brutal neighbors up above.

Alas, I fear I shall spend my winter hunting through catalogs and planning my spring-time war strategy.  Tomorrow I will try something I heard scares the thieves away...spreading cat hair around my squash.  I don't know if cat hair will do as good as dog hair, but we will see.  What next?  Cages?  A pet hawk?