Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

Recently, I was part of a little scene that is like one of several I’ve encountered this summer.  I was out walking, and greeted two elderly men I’ve seen out at the same hour.  After “Good morning,” one asked, “Does your husband work at the university?”  Thinking these men must have either seen Sydney on campus or known him from a book group, I said yes.  But since he’s also most visible as a farmer this time of year, I added, “part-time.”  The men looked a bit confused, but one thought he’d continue, anyway: “My daughter, so-and-so, works in the counseling center.”  I have no idea if Sydney knows her, but I do, so I responded with a simple, “Oh yes, so-and-so.  She’s lovely.”  Then they really looked confused, so I filled in the awkward pause with an explanation: “I also work at the university, in the English Department.”  This time the pause was longer, before one of the men dug out an anecdote about a niece who majored in English before her family finally got her to switch to business administration.  I just nodded after that one.  After another minute of chatting we continued on our various paths, but I had the distinct impression that I’d confused more than I’d clarified.

I’m glad I hadn’t realized upfront that they didn’t actually know Sydney, because I would have been tempted to respond, “What husband?  Are you assuming one from the fact that I live in a house?  that I have children?  That I seem happy?”  Although most of my time in Kentucky has been spent with people I’ve known from professional settings, this summer I’ve had more interactions with people outside the university loop, and I find myself with increasingly little patience for questions about a spouse that, I soon gather, my interlocutor has never met, but that he or she presumes explains my presence in Kentucky.

I’m usually happy to make connections, and my mom has trained me well for community small-talk (Thanks, Mom!).  Several times recently I’ve gotten to meet people in the area that Sydney has met elsewhere, and it’s been nice to put the family together for them (a common occurrence when you and your spouse trade off watching your children and socializing).  But conversations like the one from my walk the other day are built on so many false assumptions that I spend the entire time scrambling to figure out how or whether they know Sydney, following up with helpful information when I see confused looks on their faces, and then trying to find a way to let them get over their astonishment without embarrassment.  Not exactly the most satisfying of conversations.  I usually go home, hug my kids, look at my husband (whom you should really get to know.  he’s great), and get my hands on a book to shake off the odd experience.

The first few incidents just surprised me, but now that I’ve been around this track a couple of times, it’s starting to get under my skin.  I’ve really enjoyed living in Kentucky and, barring the sight of a few obnoxious bumper stickers, have not had any problems in four years here.  I have tried to be sympathetic when my female students explain why they struggle to stand on their own two feet in the South, but in my own life I’ve usually been addressed as an individual and presumed capable until proven otherwise.  To my Northern sensibilities, using an entire conversation to ignore the individual in front of you in lieu of an inferred spouse is just rude.  Am I missing something?  Thoughts?  Challenges?  Anyone have any suggestions, so that I can remain even-keeled and approachable, rather than start responding to the husband question with “Which one?”

Erin

We spent a whole day at home, preparing for our upcoming adventures.  Since we have been at the farm quite a bit in the past few days, both kids seemed eager to settle in with Legos today.  This is what they came up with:

While Sydney tackled the garden beds, I tried to make good on some of the farm veggies that he’s packed into our fridge.  Lady cream peas with vegetarian sausage, zucchini bread, and strawberry-and-arugula salad helped us clear out at least some of the greens.

Tomorrow we’re all driving to Ohio to drop Katherine off at choral camp at Rosedale (Sydney’s old college).  This is her first time on her own, but thankfully we know a number of other kids and adults who will be there, so that should make things easier.  In typical Katherine fashion, she started packing quite a while ago and kept a list on the fridge of items that had yet to be added.

I’m heading to Virginia on Tuesday for work, so Sydney and Nathaniel will be in charge of the house, the cats, and the farm.  After some priming by me, Nathaniel is seriously excited to be a real farm hand this week.  Little does he know that it’s going to be 90 degrees for the next few days . . .

Erin

Both kids are reading up a storm this summer, punctuated by long walks and roaming the farm.  And eating, of course.  That, to me, is the perfect summer combination.

The kids are also sharing a lot of books.  When we got a batch of books from the library recently, Nathaniel hunted up books and Katherine hunted up her own, but after they got home and plowed through a few they’d chosen, I soon found them curling up with books that the other one had checked out.  They’ve had fun talking about them, too, or recommending books to each other: “Be careful: there’s a scary bit in this one, but otherwise I think you’ll really like it,” or “Stuart Little is so funny.  You have to read it.”

When I have a say in things, I have been encouraging a lot of classic children’s books, given what I’ve seen from their preferences.  My kids are easily scared or confused by books that have a lot of pop culture references (they weren’t terribly impressed by the Star Wars nods in Wonder, much as they like the rest of the book.  And contemporary books often wind them up before bedtime, rather than help them settle in for the night.  I can see why: reading from an earlier time relied less heavily on suspense and action; even the Nancy Drew books are stuffed with description, far more than dialogue!  But I’m discovering that there are drawbacks to reading from an earlier time.

When we were out driving recently, I sighed when I saw a cement mixer pull onto the same winding, no-passing-for-miles road that I needed to take.  The kids were encouraging: “Maybe he’ll pull off soon.”

“No, babe.  The concrete company is all the way at the end of the road, and I bet he’s headed there.”

Then Katherine surprised me: “Maybe he’s going to his mistress not far from here.”

(Stifling my surprise as best I could): “A what?”

“You know: a mistress.  Someone he works for.”

“Hmm.  Right.”  Then I explained that we don’t tend to use “mistress” to identify a woman we work for any more.  I didn’t explain that we’d dropped that use like a hot potato after the term became a euphemism for other things.

“Oh, okay.”

And off she goes. We’ll see if she remembers my lesson.

Erin

One of the most enjoyable parts of being at the market is fielding the “What is that?” questions from people who stop by.  Did you know that you could get cauliflower in four different colors?  The purple seems to go over well here.  If it weren’t simply the most striking color, I’d worry that people were showing excessive school pride (Asbury is purple and white).  If Sydney could somehow pull off a UK blue, he’d really have a hit on his hands.

Don’t worry: Katherine’s doleful looks in recent pictures have to do with her sudden shift from try-too-hard smiles to dislike of being asked to hold still for pictures.  She’s not actually downcast at cozying up to potatoes.  This is still the most flattering of the eye-rolling, tongue-sticking-out poses she offered us, but Sydney and I warned her that we’re keeping the rest for possible later use at graduation parties and weddings.  In the picture, she’s holding a giant mixing bowl of tiny new potatoes: most of them are too small to sell, but they’ll be perfect for roasting with rosemary and olive oil at home.

Katherine was recently encouraged to keep an eye out for volleyball camps.  Apparently someone noticed that she’s pretty tall for an eight-year-old.  I hope she can make it through with fewer knee injuries than I got, but Sydney and I both really like volleyball, and I hoped that, eventually, we’d be able to put together a game with the four of us.  Nathaniel doesn’t seem to be lagging behind in size; now we just have to work on coordination.

Erin

Well, Kentucky summer is finally here.  The heat held off for a nice long while, but it looks like it’s here to stay.  I am dutifully slathering the kids in sunscreen, but mostly we make them wear hats and spend a lot of their time in the shade.  Sydney cut an opening in the huge honeysuckle hedge that lines the farm property, and now the kids have a room-sized cool and very dark hidey hole where they spread out their waterproof groundsheet (thanks, Mom!) and color and read between wandering expeditions.

We also have something of a rhythm going for the market on Saturdays.  The kids let us unpack the car and set up, and then they take over the back of the car for the rest of the morning.  A picnic basket with breakfast, ice water, and 11:00 smoothies also seems to help.

Erin

At the end of May, I left Sydney and the kids for a conference in Oxford, MS.  I realized I’ve been there four times in the past decade, mostly because Ole Miss is both William Faulkner’s hometown and the site of the annual conference on his work.  This time, though I did go on a Faulkner tour of town, led by a colleague, I was there for a conference on British writers.  I felt a bit like I’d brought the wrong dress for the venue (I gave a paper on an English WWI soldier), but I enjoyed the mix of Deep South and British accents when everyone mingled after the talks.

Mom drove down (from Iowa!) to spend the week with me–and to visit one of her favorite places.  We enjoyed food at a number of the restaurants around the courthouse square.

We also hit all three locations of the independent bookseller, Square Books, and she humored me with a trip out to Faulkner’s house.

Most of the time, though, we just enjoyed walking the area: large old homes, lots of history, and gorgeous gardens.  I hear the tailgating’s remarkable, but you won’t find me within a hundred miles of Ole Miss once football season arrives.

Erin

Yesterday was Sydney’s first appearance at the Wilmore Farmer’s Market, which will run on Saturdays from 8-12 for the next six months.  This being a family affair, we were all there.  And, although I know he was nervous about pulling it all together and having enough produce to fill the table, he made a great showing.

This is a very small farmer’s market, but we have hopes that we can slowly build up the number of people who come.  A number of friends stopped by, despite its being graduation weekend (thus the appearance of one friend in a suit), the rain (one cold-hating friend sprinted toward us with “I’m only out here because of you!), and visiting family.  I only dared sneak a picture once the market was nearly at an end, but Sydney had a full table throughout, and the kids spent most of the morning playing games together in the back of the car.

The kids did pretty well with the long morning, the cold, and the walk; since Sydney had a full car, the rest of the family walked the mile to the market, which should usually be less chilly than it was yesterday (40 degrees!).  Although I suggested that Katherine, who hates being cold, could settle in with a book in one of the front seats of the car, she maintained her chilly perch peeping out the hatchback: “I like watching.”  Once we got home and she started setting up a game, we saw she had been learning a few things:

Erin

Yesterday, Katherine had a very full day.  She had a reading part in the second-grade play, “Frog Follies.”  I thought there would only be a few beaming parents in attendance, but as the bleachers filled and filled with families and the other grades in the school, I started to wonder how Katherine would do.  Her eyes got big 🙂  But she took on her job and spoke just as clearly as she had in our kitchen earlier that week.

On our walk to the car, we talked about how you can be nervous and get the job done.  Given how much of our teaching of small children concerns learning to love this or that, and getting enjoyment from the activity (“Love to Read”), it occurred to me that performance is something of an anomaly: you are quite likely to find it nerve-wracking and  you need to be able to perform without warm and fuzzy feelings.

Katherine also had a piano recital last night. She played several pieces and a couple of scales.  Her teacher does a lovely job of making this seem like an “event,” and Katherine loved the cupcakes, cookies, and punch that followed.

At the university, my week has also been filled with events (Katherine actually tagged along for some of those), and we have a few more next weekend with graduation, but very soon our family will be far removed from such things.  Our summer looks to be a mix of writing, farming, playing with the kids, and very little that is specific to a set calendar block.  We’re all looking forward to the change of pace!

Erin

So I went looking, and this is what I found:

Domino, famously picky about people, is a sucker for a good throw, and he’s learning that Nathaniel is now finally able to sit still.

Erin

Sydney is unbelievably busy this month, trying to make up for lost time in getting things ready for his first farmer’s market–in two weeks!

The kids have taken the big changes in our lifestyle in stride, seeming to recognize that they’d better claim the farm as their own, since they’re clearly going to be spending a lot of time there.  It also seems to have helped that Sydney bought a small wagon, which makes trudging all over the farm more fun.

Both kids have been helpful with tasks like finding and hauling small rocks and even weeding!  This seems like a great time to start a farm.  We’ll see how they do at spending every Saturday morning standing on hot concrete at the market . . . well, at least it’s right next to the train tracks that run through the center of town, so our train-loving boy will be thrilled.

Erin