The Wonder of Flight

A couple of weeks ago we had the opportunity to go to the International Air Show. This was a fantastic event with lots of static displays and demonstrations. We got to go inside the cockpit of a Herc. We saw jets, the Harvard Formation Team, the Skyhawks parachute team and more. It was really hot and there wasn't much shade. People were huddled under the wings of the planes to escape the heat. It really gave new meaning to "under his wings you will find refuge." (Psalm 91:4 NIV).

The highlight of the day for me was seeing the Snowbirds. Most of the crowd seemed pretty relaxed, whereas my heart was in my throat the whole time. It was terrifying. They flew in various formations, wing tip to wing tip. The skill and precision of those pilots was truly awe-inspiring. The show made me so proud and grateful for the men and women serving our country.

After the show we stopped off at the community garden plot where I saw this little guy busily pollinating our garden.

After the noise and busyness of the show, the garden was stunningly quiet and tranquil. And for all the power, skill and technology of man, this little miracle of flight also filled me with awe and wonder. For all we accomplish, we still depend on these small but mighty workers. Fly you high, little bumblebee.

It seems that flight has been a theme for me lately. From bugs, to kites, to planes, my eyes have been turned upward in expectation. And I can think of no more beautiful words on the topic than those of John Gillespie Magee Jr., a pilot for the Royal Canadian Air Force during World War II:

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, --and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of --Wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flug
My eager craft through footless halls of air...
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew--
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

It's a Fine Day

Thursday was a hot, humid day. We were sticky and cranky and needing a change of scenery. Luckily for us, it was "Psyched for Science" day at the library. Ah, the beautiful, air conditioned library. The children had fun making lava lamps, play dough, goop and disappearing colour wheels. We were messy and happy and finally cool. We were about to go, and noticed the challenge of the week: to make a picture based on a book they had recently read.  We borrowed art supplies from the Children's Desk and my daughter made a portrait of the BFG while my son recreated the scene from the temptation in the garden of Eden. Cognizant of the fact that we only had an hour on the parking meter, I encouraged them to work quickly. We were going over our time, but there is surely a window of grace.

Then it was time to check out. I needed to get a new card, and I had been feeling guilty about using my kids' cards for my books since my card had fines on it (I know, how embarrassing).  So I decided I would do the right thing and settle my account. Ten dollars later we were on our way, hurrying down the sidewalk in the soupy, sticky heat. We arrived just as the Parking Enforcement Officer was putting the ticket on our window. We were in the wrong; we were past our time and fully deserved the ticket.  I was still hopeful though, asking if we were too late to cancel the ticket. He explained once it is on the wind shield he can't do anything about it. He almost looked worried for a moment that it might turn into a confrontation. Instead I asked where I could pay it, and looking relieved, he gave me the information. I acknowledged he had a tough job to do, especially in this heat and thanked him for the help. 

We headed to City Hall to pay the fine. I started to get upset ("I told you kids to hurry up"), but realized I was the one to blame. I could have gone back at any time to feed the meter. This was instead now an opportunity to demonstrate to my children how to own up to your mistakes, deal with the consequences and move forward. We had it paid within five minutes of having it written. That's got to be a record. I mentioned to the lady at the wicket how helpful and professional the Parking Officer had been. She said he was new to the job so it was great to hear that feedback. It made me even more glad that I had kept my cool. 

So a trip to the library for a free program ended up costing $16.50, plus the money we put in the meter. I think it was still a great value. We had science fun, made "donations" to our library that we love and to our city, and the children got to see inside City Hall for the first time. We headed up to our community garden plot afterwards for a snack of peas, and were again reminded of all this beautiful city provides for us. It made me feel good about giving something back.

"Up to the Highest Height"

A couple of weeks ago I told my father and children that they could go fly a kite. No, really, actually fly a kite. It has become a tradition the last few years to go to Kite Day at a nearby provincial park. It is a free family-friendly event put on by amazing volunteers. They had door prizes, a fund-raising barbecue and the chance to make and fly your own kite.

Even though this is something we have done many times, the children were still having a hard time getting the hang of it. There was a wide open field and no lack of wind; it was rather the technique that was lacking. If you have ever read The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams, you know that the knack to flying  "...lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss." I think the same principle can apply to flying kites. Well, my son was doing a lot of throwing the kite at the ground, but each time he would "fail to miss it fairly hard" and it would drag and bob along the dried grass behind him as he ran for all he was worth toward the patches of poison ivy. Rather than the whimsical family outing I had hoped for, it was becoming more like a scene out of Peanuts.

Of course, he was not overly receptive to the advice of his elders. It wasn't until one of the volunteers came and offered his expert assistance, that he decided he would try doing it another way. We let out lots of string and I held the kite with my son at the other end. I threw it up while he pulled down, and ran a little, just for good measure. The kite caught the wind and up it went. We managed to get it so high in the air that we reached the end of the string. My daughter and father likewise were having success and the two kites danced and dipped in the sky.

At this point I was reminded of a book I saw once in a library. It was called Fishing for Angels: The Magic of Kites, by David Evans. As an experienced fisherman, my son really did look like he was trying to catch a big one, the way he worked the line was just how he would fight a trophy fish.  I love that metaphor, the idea that we are trying to catch a little piece of heaven, casting our gaze upward, as if to say, come, dance, play--we are here. It is exhilarating, and at the same time, when a kite soars high into the sky, the whole world seems to get quieter. If you haven't done so lately, I highly recommend it: go fly a kite!

Just Look at That Face

The other day there was a quite a commotion in the front yard. A group of neighbourhood kids had assembled and they were in a circle, looking down at something on the ground. They would come in close together, scream, and fall back. They repeated this strange dance several times, huddling close, and breaking apart with squeals and laughter. I braced myself and went over to investigate. Usually this level of excitement can only be caused by such wonders as chipmunks in downspouts, bird skeletons or strange insects, like the time a neighbour girl found a dead cicada.

The centre of attention this time was this furry guy (or gal?). The children were curious, but a little frightened at the same time. What could it be? As is often the case with children, the next logical step was to poke it with a stick to see what might happen. I quickly suggested that they put down the stick as not to hurt this furry friend. It stayed and posed for a quick photo. It was a very slow moving creature, and although winged it made no attempt to fly, but rather made its way to the wall and began to climb.

As far as I can tell from a quick Google search, this is possibly a tent caterpillar moth. That would make sense as the tent caterpillars have been in abundance this year, munching away on our trees and bushes. It's funny, because while I have been aware of the caterpillars, I have never given much thought to what they become. It made me wonder what other strange creatures I might find if I really just look, even in my own yard. Sometimes we just need a kid's eye view.

PS If there are any entomologists out there who can give a more definitive identification, we would be extremely grateful.

Update: How Does Your Garden Grow? One Month Later

It has been a month since we began planting in our community garden plot. Since I am new to gardening it has been as exciting for me as it has been for the children to watch as everything has begun to grow.

At first I couldn't tell the difference between the weeds and the vegetable plants. I ended up leaving everything for a while, and as things have grown it has become obvious what everything is. We lost some pepper and tomato plants. I think they may have withered during the heat spell. Other than that, things are growing as they should. In fact, we have already had our first harvest.

The leaf lettuce is doing extremely well and we have already had enough for two salads and to put on sandwiches and wraps for school lunches. My son, who is eight years old, was so proud to tell his school friends that he grew the lettuce himself. He reports that they all were really interested to hear about it and thought it was really great. 

Tonight we picked lettuce to make a salad for supper. The beets needed to be thinned out, so we also added some beet greens to the mix. I realized that we didn't have any dressing so I decided to make it from scratch. I was going to do a basic oil and vinegar, but realized I have no vinegar in the house. I opted instead for a Thousand Islands dressing. If you haven't had Thousand Islands, imagine you have a big juicy hamburger and you have loaded it up with condiments. When you take a bite, the condiments all squish out onto the plate. Now take a spoon and stir it up. That's the general idea. It sounds horrible, but it is so delicious. I made mine with Miracle Whip (I like that tangy zip better than real mayo), a little bit of ketchup and sweet pickle relish. I realized then that I still needed vinegar. I searched the kitchen for a substitute and finally settled on a clementine and squeezed half of it into the mix. It turned out to be a pretty tasty Thousand Island dressing.

My daughter, who is not a big fan of salads, actually ate her portion, excited by the fact that she helped to grow it. She informed me that she didn't like the "sauce" though. My son observed that it was quite amazing that all of this used to be just a pile of seeds. We ate with a sense of wonder and pride. I can't wait until our little garden produces even more ingredients for our suppers, and for our stories.

Environmentally Friendly Pest Control

Tomato Worm (photo: pixabay.com)

One of the first paying "jobs" I ever had was picking bugs. My aunt offered to pay my cousins and me to pick the potato bugs and tomato worms off of the plants in the garden. It was a gold mine. We were given a penny for a potato bug and five cents for a tomato worm. While far more lucrative, the tomato worms were also disgusting. If you weren't careful they would squirt you with a gross green liquid that my aunt insisted was tomato juice. It didn't actually occur to me until this very moment to question what that liquid might be. At any rate, we worked hard that day and were rewarded for our labour, and the potato and tomato plants were saved.

Fast forward 30 years. Last summer was a particularly bad one for ants, especially when the doors weren't always getting closed when the children went out to play.  I told the children I would give them a penny for every ant they killed in the house, as long as they also stopped letting them in! It was a very effective, economical, and non toxic method of ant control. Of course since we no longer use pennies in Canada, they had to catch five before they could be paid. My daughter argued that she should have a nickel if she caught three, since without the penny, cash transactions should rounded to the nearest five cents.  She has always been quite the negotiator.

Then one night I heard a lot of thumping, stomping and laughter coming from the other room, along with gleeful exclamations of "We're rich! We're rich!" I ran in to see what the commotion was about. Hundreds of tiny ants were on the rug and rather than getting me, the children saw it as a money-making opportunity. Here were their pennies from heaven. So. Many. Ants. After dealing with the infestation and disposing of the rug, I gave them each $2.00, I suggested that it is in times like these that it is more appropriate to find an adult to help. They are natural born entrepreneurs though, I'll give them that.

Three Ants (photo: pixabay.com)

How about you? Have you ever been paid for catching bugs? Do you have other non-toxic ways of dealing of dealing with pests? A penny for your thoughts?

Do you want arachnids with that?

This morning I went to my favourite (Mc)Cafe drive through for my morning cup of decaf. I pulled up to pay and rolled down my window. As the young man was about to pass the debit machine to me a spider dropped down between us on a single gossamer thread. It was a terrifying, heart-pounding and incredibly awkward moment. You see, I have a had a lifelong phobia of spiders.

I remember as a little girl, my mother tried to cure my arachnophobia by reading me Charlotte's Web. Charlotte was so clever and kind (if bloodthirsty). E. B. White taught me that these talented and self-sacrificing creatures were our friends. The illusion lasted just a few short months until I was bit on the leg by a spider. I no longer considered this an irrational fear--it is a very logical one.

Once as a teen there was a spider on me and I screamed. Dear mother suggested that I should scream, "Spider," rather than just screaming so that she can more readily and accurately assess the seriousness of the situation.

In university I turned down a job in a pet store when I was told that I would have to clean the tarantula cages. And I don't even want to talk about the outhouse in the jungle late at night without a flashlight...

Now that I am a parent I have had to be a little more brave and take care of spiders in the kids' bedrooms and so forth. This practiced calm helped this morning in the drive through.

So here we were: me, the drive through employee and the spider. All three of us were in a predicament. A light warm breeze kept blowing the spider toward me.  I asked if he had a napkin. He found a paper bag. I expected him to hand me the bag, but going above and beyond the call of duty, he rescued me from the car spider, exclaiming, "It's OK,  I really don't like bugs either. I hope it doesn't stick to the bag." But no, the spider was brushed away moved on. I paid for my order and was on my way.

I think they should give that young man employee of the month.  At the very least I hope that he felt good about helping the crazy lady in the white car, and had a funny story to tell his friends. As Charlotte said, "After all what's a life anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die...By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle.  Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that." And mom, you should be proud of me; I didn't even need to scream, "Spider."

This is totally staged, but this is the actual coffee cup and I think the same species of spider.