As we approach the end of another year our thoughts often turn to family and friends. We feel the distance between us and we wish time and space were lesser obstacles.
We recall with happiness our times with Beverly’s family in the Big Little[1] and Michigan.[2] Our daughter Daisy and son Sloopy appreciated being with their grandparents[3] and cousins.[4] We’re glad that some of the American cousins now live closer to New England.[5] All this reminds us of family and friends whose company we have missed.[6] Also, some friends visited us this year.[7]
Last year we wrote about our no-mow lawn.[8] Yes, the grass grows only a few inches high and requires little mowing.[9] But it also has attracted crabgrass and wasps.[10] In our letter last year, we used our lawn as a horticultural metaphor of dashed hopes and human disappointment. We’re pleased to say that we’ve found the solution to lawn worries: stop thinking about it.[11] We spent little time, money, or worry on the lawn this year. Taking off your glasses does wonders for the appearance of the lawn.
We’ve both[12] kept busy with work and Beverly has had some interesting professional trips.[13] During the 2008-09 academic year we’re participating together in a yearlong seminar here at our university called “Visions of Nature.” It’s informing our research[14] and we’re especially enjoying that we can participate together.
Like so many people, much of our focus this year was on politics and the economy. We hope for the best[15] in a world where violence, greed, and suffering are too common. May the new administration provide us -- both as a nation[16] and as individuals[17] -- with the inspiration and opportunity to live our lives more responsibly.
Now that we’ve given up our lawn concerns, we’re focused on the little people who live with us. It’s harder to describe the wonder of parenthood than the worries of lawn care. How can we convey how our wise son and beautiful daughter amaze us? We can’t, so we’ll limit the stories to two, one with Sloopy’s commentaries on our world and one with Daisy’s.
Daisy[18] has her opinions on the election of Barack Obama. In our family, we don’t identify as “black” and “white,” but as “pink” and “brown.”[19] Obama, she insisted, was not the first black president, but the first brown president. This may silly, but it’s become a fundamental principle for Daisy. Weeks after the election, Beverly was reading the kids a story about George Washington. “George Washington,” she told them, “was our first president.” Daisy stopped her: “He was our first pink president.” Score one forDaisy. American history reinterpreted: Two first presidents, more than two hundred years apart.
Sloopy[20] is more interested in paleontology than politics, so he has an even longer-term view. Although he doesn’t know much about our economic meltdown, he does understand the risks of extinction. When we were at the Natural History Museum in New York in June, he was completely taken with the exhibit on evolution. We thought it was the special effects, but the science made an impression. Days after we left the museum, he asked, “What comes after humans?”
Maybe crabgrass and hornets. The next few years will tell us a lot.
Best and warmest wishes for any holidays you choose to celebrate.
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[1] Beverly’s sister Mary and brother-in-law John visited from Michigan.
[2] Where Beverly is from. We went there in July for Mary’s daughter Elizabeth’s wedding to Matt.
[3] Beverly’s father Vernon (who is 82) and his wife Betty (whose privacy on age issue we will respect) are healthy and happy.
[4] Children often have an especially intimate relationship with cousins of five or more years older or younger. Sloopy and Daisy admire their big cousins, but they especially idolize Will and Pete, the sons of Beverly’ sister Chris, who live in Arkansas. They are 10 and 8 years old.
[5] By this we mean Kate, Laura, and Adam, Beverly’s brother Dave and his wife Lois’s children, who each live in different boroughs of New York City.
[6] Anyone not listed in a previous footnote, especially Owen’s sister Margaret and Ray (in France) and their children (all in Britain) Hazel (spouse Silvio and newborn Amos) and Simon (spouse Marie).
[7] Okay, very few and we won’t list them for fear of forgetting anyone and losing the few friends we have; we have taken the risk of listing family because they are easier to keep track of and harder to alienate.
[8] A slightly edited version is available in a post dated November 30, 2007 .
[9] We have a human-powered mower, which we use once a summer when the grass heads develop. This year it did a number on Beverly’s back, but we won’t get into that because it’s not festive to discuss injuries in a holiday letter.
[10] The wasps live in burrows, not to be confused with the boroughs where Beverly’s nieces and nephews live in New York.
[11] Last year when we googled “Rhode Island Wasps,” we learned about the Chafee, Brown, Tillinghast, Chase, and Sharpe families. That wasn’t so helpful for our lawn care problems.
[12] Meaning Beverly and Owen, not Sloopy or Daisy, who don’t work much.
[13] Cologne, Boston, Boise (not so interesting, actually), Leiden, Burlington, and Chicago.
[14] Beverly’s current research is on people and birds in colonial and post-colonial Africa. Owen’s is on the extinction and possible re-breeding of the quagga, a sub-species of zebra in South Africa.
[15] Second-best, actually, would be fine with us.
[16] With apologies to our international friends who are reading this. We hope you understand that Americans are focused on themselves.
[17] Maybe not Rod Blagojevich; he’s a bit far gone for political redemption.
[18] Almost five years old, enjoying pre-kindergarten.
[19]More innocuous markers of phenotypical difference.
[20] Six and a half years old, in the first grade and loving recess.
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