Treasure Hunting at the Art Museum

One of the ways, as a retired teacher, I try to make myself useful to society is to work as a docent at the University of Missouri Art and Archaeology Museum.  I love taking small groups of children/students on tours through the museum.  Tours vary.  There are flashlight tours where we darken the room and each child has a flashlight and a list of items (written or pictured) to find on their own (with whatever help they need).  There are General Highlights Tours where we touch on a variety of artifacts and exhibits.  We have Missouri History Tours, especially for fourth graders, who routinely study Missouri history as part of their curriculum, and so on.

Here you see me discussing the story of Laokoon and his sons (yes, the Trojan priest and his sons are being crushed by snakes) with a young 'art student' in the Cast Gallery.

Last week I led a ‘treasure hunt’ for a small group of home-schooled children…about 8 kids between 7 and 12. We started out with the usual admonitions about touching, running and loud voices. Then we gave each child a set of small artifact/item pictures glued on Popsicle sticks. We sat together at first discussing the meaning of treasure. The kids were excited; I was inspired. We directed them to wander through the rooms hunting the treasures in a rather loose group. When an artifact or item was ‘found,’ we’d discuss it with individuals or with small groups.

The Antenalope, a nearly life-sized deer-like sculpture made from old TV consoles, radios, a hand-cranked telephone, and a gramophone speaker for a tail, is endlessly fascinating for kids. I told them about the hand cranked telephone we had in our rural ranch house when I was a kid.

They were also thrilled with a small elephant-headed statue of the Hindu God, Ganesha. They knew the slightly gruesome story of his ‘birth,’ because one of the mothers was a yoga teacher.  Ganesha was born to the goddess, Parvati when his father, Shiva (Lord of Destruction/Creation), was away on a trip.  When Shiva returned he saw this stranger in the house and cut off his head.  Parvati  insisted that Shiva restore Ganesha to life.  So the first living animal Shiva saw was an elephant.  He sliced off the elephant's head and gave it to Ganesha, who was then restored to life.
At the end of the tour we sat down together on and around a bench.  One of the 7 year-old boys climbed aboard my lap.  Oh how that warmed this old grandmother's heart!

Growing Up/Growing Older

Growing Up/Growing Old
Growing old is something like growing into to adolescence. The body goes through radical and surprising changes. We have been told that these changes are going to happen, but you don’t quite believe it will happen to you. I watch the process of growing old with the something of the same horrified fascination that I watched myself grow into adolescence. I was not thrilled at age 11 to be developing into a woman. I was ahead of my friends. I was slightly overweight. I wasn’t ready to leave childhood. Now I’m not ready to leave middle age. In my 50’s, I examined the creping of the skin of my arm and thinking, “This isn’t me, this isn’t me.” Yes, it was and yes it is.

I remember when my mother used to tell me (she was a few years older than I am now) about how she was suffering the odd aches and pains of early Parkinson’s disease. I wasn’t very sympathetic, because I didn’t want to believe that she was growing old. That she was succumbing to illness. “ Oh, mother,” I would say, “You are just suffering now what the rest of us have suffered all our lives.” I often wish I could call my mother and talk to her about these mysterious changes I am experiencing. I feel I need my mother more than ever. In some way, I feel closer to her than ever. I understand more about her, and her memory comforts and inspires me.

I am letting my hair grow out. I figure that I can always color it again if I don’t like the gray. I am interested in just what the color of my hair really is. It looks like a sort of iron gray. Hmmm, we shall see. My brother has bright white hair and looks quite handsome. Mary Sue still dyes hers and looks younger than I do, still beautiful, although she is seven years older.

Around Columbia

After weeks, no, months of grousing about the grim, rainy, overcast, cold weather, much to my delight spring has put on a spelendid performance for us in April.  Columbia could be called the Bradford Pear capital of Missouri.  They are a beautiful tree:  first the white blossoms in the spring, beautiful pear shaped green in the summer, and vibrant multicolored in the fall.  However, as they age their branches split off in storms and their perfect tear-drop shape deteriorates as branches become too heavy for the trunk to hold.  The MU ag department is "agin 'im."  We planted two in our back yard, too close to each other, and they obscure the view of our flowering crabs.

Our redbuds have passed their prime, but the dogwoods (Missouri's state tree - and very tempermental as to flowering) are glorious this year.  All except ours: ours is sulking again in the shade.  I took some pictures of our neighbor's dogwoods. 

Finally, I took a photo of another neighbor's lilac.  We never get tired of lilacs, do we?  My lilac bush will never bloom, because it was started from suckers.  My benefactor, who brought the suckers to me failed to mention the none blooming fact to me until the bush was well established.

What's with Cats?

What possible objection can cats have to flowers? Both of our cats seem to think it’s their job to deflower bouquets about the house. I have to set our flower arrangements in odd places: for example, on the upper baker’s shelf where the cats don’t climb or by the kitchen sink. To place a vase of flowers on the buffet, tops of bookcases, or tables is asking for trouble. Occasionally, I unwisely leave the flowers on the dining room table where we admire them while eating. The cats seem to ignore the arrangement; I think they don’t notice. I forget the flowers are on the table, and we go to the grocery store. We come home to find the vase tipped over, water spilled and the flowers strewn across the table.

I put sweet little pansies in a shallow bowl in the hall bathroom to enjoy their little frowny faces, during the washing of hands. Of course we try to keep the bathroom door shut, so the cats can’t get in, but our black cat, Inky - has a particular obsession with pansies. Somehow he slips into the bathroom if we are careless, and pulls those pansies right out of the bowl. What is it with cats, anyway?

Agape Supper

Last night was our Agape Supper at church. I promised to bring split pea soup and to help with preparation.  I also told a good friend of mine that I wouldn't use onions as her digestive system won't tolerate onions.   To compensate for the lack of onions, I followed the Joy of Cooking and added plenty of bay leaves, celery stalks and leaves, thyme, Crazy Salt, butter, etc.  By the time I was ready to go to church the soup was tasty enough, but pretty thick.  So much the easier to carry in the crockpot without spilling in the car, which actually did happen to me a couple of years ago.  Arrived at church at 4:45, meal and liturgy started at 7:00.  I plugged in the soup on the soup table, left it on high, figured I would thin the soup later.    We finished preparations with plenty of time to spare, but I happily talked with women who had seen the program about the Shroud of  Turin on the History Channel.  To check the soup, never crossed my mind.  Mid-liturgy we had our agape meal...supposed to be simple, right?  But we had at least a dozen  soups and many of us were trying to savor each one - as well as many kinds of fruit, nuts and breads.  However, I was shocked at the sight of my split pea soup.  It was beyond thick -crusty around the edge.  I don't think it had one taker, certainly not me.  The first time through, my dear friend could not find my soup and I hoped she wouldn't. She ate her own soup.  The second time through, she insisted on trying mine; I had to point it out to her.  (I followed my dictum to never apologize - or was that Julia Childs' ?)  She told me it was wonderful - and I don't doubt it was, if one could overcome the way it looked - a green casserole, the slices of carrots like multiple eyes. Thank God for friends who love us.  I took the soup home.  Scraped it out of the crockpot, and put it in the refridge to enjoy at leisure.  Maybe there was a method in my madness after all.

Grandsons from Japan

Life in a house of 6 people (two, ages 3 & 6) was hectic. Sharif and family came Monday, February 1st and stayed until February 22nd.

I would say that Liam (age 6 as of January) got the full American experience: nine days of kindergarten (between snow days, teacher work days, and MLK Day he had 3 days of school a week), a school Valentine’s party, a classmate’s birthday party at a Family Fun Center,
snow, sledding and making a snowman (with tangerine eyes).

Chris’ ( three, March 25) experience was more circumscribed, but he did visit the library story hours, make cookies, paint and do rubber stamping. Chris got more than he bargained for when he slipped in the bath and broke his front tooth.  This meant a trip to ER at night and a trip to the dentist the next day.  The tooth and root were removed, but that didn't stop Chris from nibbling cookies the next day.

Both boys were very self-directed and played well on their own.

The Sunday before the Monday they left we drove to St. Louis.  In spite of the damp, overcast weather, we  went to the Arch.  The Arch, the mighty Mississippi and Eads Bridge were lovely in the mist.  

A grand time was had by all.  Youssef and I drove back to a very quiet house.  Sharif and family spent the night at Comfort Inn and flew back to Japan Monday morning.

Flowers, God Bless Them

Gerbes grocery had two slightly shop worn bunches of lillies. I bought both ($4 each). I gave the white bunch to my sister, and brought the pink tinted ones home. I admire the lilly bouquet with a mixture of satisfaction and guilt. Satisfaction because they are lovely, and guilt because I kept the best ones for 'us.' Of course Mary Sue is completely happy, but she doesn't know....

And pansies. Love them. I told Alice that I'd nursed a pansies in a planter all winter in the garage, only to have them nipped down by the deer the first night they were left outside. Deer don't generally eat pansies (rabbits do), but I guess they are not picky this early in the season with so little to choose from. After viewing Alice's pansies on her Texas patio, I bought two pansy 'baskets' with their charming little faces. The colors are unusual, but I need to buy some yellow ones to pick up the yellow highlights in the....what color is that? We're due for a cold snap/snow over the weekend so the two pansy baskets are going to have to set in the garage.