Weird… But Not That Weird

After the ultrasound this morning, we headed to my father’s house to pick green beans.  I got enough for two meals from two of the four rows, plus grabbing a few more of the ripest ones I could see in the other two rows.  Good thing they aren’t 90 foot rows like my grandfather used to plant.  I remember vividly the year there was an especially enthusiastic bean crop, so we spent hours filling one large paper grocery bag after another.  Then I ended up with the job of sitting on the side of the road, selling them for him.  I want to say it was something like 25 cents a pound, which is why it shocks me when I see them for, say, $1.99.

The kids love them raw, and they are pretty tasty.  We had them alongside the leftover Chinese-inspired sweet & sour shredded chicken over rice.  I gave them each 8 cooked beans.  Sadie ate 5 or 6 and little else.  She really dislikes eating the same thing two nights in a row, and the main course was the same.  Later she ate half an apple, and they’d each eaten a couple raw beans before supper.  While I was picking, I ate a couple, Sadie ate one and showed no overt enthusiasm, apart from she ate it so fast while my back was turned that I thought she’d dropped it.  Valerie ate one and then begged for a second, whereas it was Sadie who came begging while I was cutting ends to steam them.

Anyway, Valerie loves them so much, even cooked, that she ate hers, then what Sadie didn’t eat, then several more; probably the same amount I ate.  She also ate some of the rice and chicken.  Then she wanted a nectrarine, which she ate the better part of, along with a bite of apple.  Then she had a few spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream and left the rest, whicle Sadie declined ice cream entirely in favor of the apple.  Finally, a bit later, Valerie devoured the half of the good-sized apple that Sadie left unfinished.  Gotta love that metabolism.  But then, it’s also going into height, in which she’s catching up with Sadie.

I digress.

Driving through Halifax on the way to the beans, I forgot to turn down the back road to Plympton, remaining on 106, where Deb suggested stopping at the playground as we drove past.  I turned around so we could do that.  It wasn’t even 10:00 yet, so we had it mostly to ourselves.  It’s a superlative playground, not even counting the fact that it has an old-fashioned playground merry-go-round, which you find nowhere these days.  It even looks like a throwback, though they clearly took great pains to make it as safe as is possible to make that particular item.

Valerie immediately climbed up a tall ladder made of tires on chains, completely fearless.  Sadie used the stairs.  They had a blast exploring, but even Sadie was good about leaving after a relatively short while.

The current playground is between the old police station, which I still think of as new even though it’s been replaced, and the library, which used to be the kindergarten, which in turn hooks to the elementary school.  I was able to point out the window of my first grade classroom.  Later I noted the big satellite dish on the roof and that nobody back in 1967 would ever have imagined that would be there.

Later still, long after we were home, I observed how weird it was, taking my kids there.  If anything, though, I’d have expected it to feel weirder.  This led to a discussion of our presumed future trip across the country, currently assuming the Jedi Parents will retire to Oregon.  Any such trip would make a point of swinging by my brother, and would hit Iowa and pass a stone’s throw from Paul.  It would be nothing to swing into Minnesota to see Deb’s childhood hometown.

Yeah, any such trip is going to be a challenge to accomplish and is at least four years away.  I know it will cost plenty.  I know I will need, say, a month or so of being off work or being able to do enough of whatever I’m doing remotely from the road.  That’s a long time away, and there’ll be a range of years when it’s meaningful, memorable and educational for the kids without anyone being too old or onerously young.  When I ordered Deb from getawife.com, I knew by getting an exotic model from far away I was buying myself some extra travel requirement.  Just like going to a distant college.  Oh well.

1. Hey, I’m only 35 miles from the last exit as you pass La Crosse on the Interstate. Y’all drop by any time!

   Posted by Paul Burgess  on  07/25  at  09:08 AM  from  northeasternmost Iowa
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