Juxtapositions

The news over the last few weeks has been really disturbing -- I guess I'm thinking primarily of the Orlando shooting, the ongoing insanity of having Donald Trump run for president, and now Brexit. It's easy to start feeling somewhat desperate. The world is falling apart, that kind of thing. I remind myself that we survived the George W. Bush years, the aftermath of 9/11, etc., even though at the time that all seemed like the end of the world. When Ronald Reagan was elected president, I thought THAT was the end of the world. And somehow the world limps on. But certain issues are undeniably worrying, especially everything having to do with the Middle East, and our treatment of it.

Huh. How do I get from that paragraph to cheerful descriptions of life with my kids? It's the same question I ask myself when I try to turn off one and switch to the other. For example, this morning I went online to check movie times (we went to see "Finding Dory" in two groups, because Kid A wanted to see it in 3D and Kid B very much didn't), and then I found myself over in Google News reading about Brexit, and Kid B is saying "Mom! Get off the computer! We need to go!" and I pulled myself away, but it was hard.

Sometimes the juxtaposition works. Last week when we went to the Botanic Garden I saw two men walking along a path holding hands. This was after LGBTQ leaders urged gay couples to show affection in public, and I couldn't help thinking that's what was going on there. They were the most ordinary looking men you could imagine -- probably accountants -- and I was pretty sure that under normal circumstances they would not have been holding hands. They'd probably been together a long time and loved each other very much, but most long-term straight couples don't go around holding hands all the time either. These guys had this look on their faces, like "OK, I don't normally do this, but I'll do it for Orlando." I could be wrong, but I think that's what I saw. And there we were in this lovely setting, celebrating Yard Week with the twins.

This week has been Zoo Week, but we didn't really do anything zoo-y, other than read some books from the library. "Finding Dory" took the place of a zoo trip today, because it was supposed to be 95 degrees. I told the twins we'll do the zoo later in the summer, when it's cooler. Maybe in July. Hmm.

Instead, much of the twins' attention has been focused on the new plant in our little garden, a Venus flytrap. I took Kid A to a local store that carries fairy garden accessories and told him he could choose one thing. He chose a tiny potted Venus flytrap. At first we kept it in the kitchen window, but our house gets basically zero sun and I was afraid the little thing would die. So we moved it into the fairy garden (we'll bring it inside over the winter), where it is FLOURISHING. Four of its little mouths currently contain insects, which it is digesting. Kid A caught two of the insects and offered them to the plant, but the other two mouths caught their own meals when we weren't watching (you can tell because they shut up tightly when they have something). One of the mouths ate a daddy longlegs and two of the legs are still sticking out, which I hope will not interfere with digestion. At this rate I think it will outgrow its pot. It's sitting in a little glass dish because we have to water it with distilled water (or rain), not tap water.

Continuing the Yard Week theme, sort of, despite it being Zoo Week, it was our week to take care of the elementary school garden, which of course grows on through the summer. "Take care of" means visit it, report any problems to the people in charge, pull weeds, and pick whatever produce is ripe. Nothing much was ripe except strawberries, but we did pick a large quantity of them. And it happened to be the Summer Solstice that day, and also the Strawberry Full Moon, when you are supposed to pick and eat strawberries. So it all fit together too. The strawberries didn't taste very good, sour and bland. But still, the experience of finding them, picking them, bringing them home, eating them -- it was quite special.

It doesn't make the bad news go away, because I'm always thinking about all the millions and millions of people around the world who don't live in paradise. But still, good to enjoy a garden while you can.