Crafting as a non-crafter

I consider myself a non-crafter, because it doesn't come easily to me. Face it: others always make things look better than I can. Fortunately, as busy people do more crafting, there are more and more pre-made things to just put together and create a beautiful craft with little or no talent.

Set decorating is a lot like crafting, which is why I usually leave it to others to do, and concentrate on costumes and makeup in the backstage realm. So it was with an inner groan that I learned that my older daughter "gets" to decorate her box for the musical, "Once On This Island Jr." She is Agwe, god(dess) of Water. Each of the four gods has a cube they stand on that elevates them upstage behind the action, as they observe everything that happens. The cube is painted black, and they are supposed to decorate it with things that represent their character.

I had a couple of ideas, and the costumer gave us some leftover shells and plastic sea plant stuff that she had used on the Agwe costume. I thought and thought about it, devising my vision, only to find out that my daughter knew exactly what she wanted to do.

So armed with shells, seaweed and a glue gun, we are creating what will be an interesting, cohesive art piece on the front of her box. Because, unlike me, she has an ease of artistic vision and execution. Fortunately, I can use a glue gun, and can quickly buy into someone else's vision. (I'm also a great editor.) Luckily I have also learned efficiency in crafting, because I am helping her. And we'll have one hour to do it.

May Day

With Obama in office, May Day is no longer a disaster signal, but once again a beautiful spring tradition.

My younger daughter's 3rd grade class went for a walk around the neighborhood by their elementary school, handing out flowers and greeting people. The daffodils are finished blooming, and the azaleas and other flowering bushes are beginning to brighten the yard.

Yesterday I put up two hanging plants -- fuscia and red geraniums respectively, and I was inspired to fill the cedar planter on the back deck with geraniums, pansies, and other colorful flowers.

As I bought those red geraniums, I thought about my grandparents, who always had red geraniums in planters on either side of their front stoop in their house in South Minneapolis. Putting in geraniums every spring makes me feel like I am carrying on my grandfather's gardening legacy. He taught me so many things about gardening and yard work.

Many times I would talk to him while he used a hoe to edge the sidewalks, keeping the grass from growing over it, and pulling weeds from the cracks.

"Edging is just a small thing," he would say, "but it will mean a lot to your neighbors. Keeping your front yard neat-looking improves the neighborhood, and is a sign of respect for your neighbors." "If you weed a little bit every day, then you never have to spend a lot of time weeding." "Pull the dead blooms off a flowering plant and they will bloom again." "Petunia flowers are done when they come off easily." "Always plant petunias on the edge of your tomato bed and it will keep away the rabbits." "Corn should be knee high by the fourth of July." "Always water in the evenings."

And he always managed to weed without getting his hands dirty. Perhaps it was all those years of farming experience in North Dakota when he was growing up, or just years of experience tending his own garden. But I'd end up with hands black with the rich earth, and he'd quickly brush his hands and look like he'd just sat down to dinner.

Spring also brought baseball season. Every year on Opening Day, Grandpa would call me, whether the Twins were home or away for the first series of the season. The first opening day after he died, I called my grandmother and said, "Grandpa always called me on Opening Day."

"I know," she said, "He always said, 'I have to call Ann.'"

The smell of warm earth and geraniums and the sound of the crowd and the crack of the bat bring such strong memories of being with my grandfather at their Minneapolis home that sometimes the memory seems more real than the present. I can almost hear Herb Carneal saying, "O and two. Here's the pitch..."

I am still a Twins fan, but these days I more closely follow the Mariners. And I have an edger instead of a hoe, and a driveway that is almost as long as the block my grandfather lived on. But when spring comes I am out there planting my geraniums and half waiting for the phone to ring one more time.

Flu nervousness

I remember when the swine flu hit for the first time, in the early 1970s during the Ford Administration (or, according to Rep. Michelle Bachmann, R-Minn, during the Carter Administration because it's directly linked to the Democrats!).

I was nervous then, largely because it was a new strain and there was no previous experience treating it. Generally, we all panicked, especially since we lived in the fantasy that animal diseases didn't affect humans.

So the swine flu is back again. This time I'm just as nervous as I was the first time. But why? Other than having two children, which changes perspective.

It is somewhat of a Pavlovian response -- hear swine flu and panic. But do we really need to panic? Of course not. Worldwide health organizations and health professionals are aware and actively tryin to prevent its spread. Of course we all wish it would just go away completely, but flus generally circulate and then go away later.

So just stay vigilant. Wash your hands often and avoid putting things into your mouth with your hands unless they've been washed.

And above all, don't panic!

Obama To The Rescue

This afternoon President Obama visited the FBI in DC and spoke to an enthusiastic crowd gathered outside. (No word on how many of the surrounding roofs were lined with security.)

Shortly after he began his speech, he stopped and said, "Did someone just faint? Right there (points) I think someone just fainted. Is there -- is there an EMT somewhere? (pauses) Okay, give him some room, give him some room. This used to happen a lot on the campaign trail. And most of the time, all they need is a little water and some air. People would be gathered outside like this, waiting, and then I'd start talking and talk too long, and people would start dropping left and right."

Then he continued his speech. One can only assume that he had to stifle the urge to rush down and help.

No word on what happened with the fainter, but I assume that he was in good hands.