For past few days, I was in charge of keeping the kids from jumping on Steve as he recovered from his surgery on the sofa. In addition to playing defense, I had all child responsibilities. The doctor told Steve that he couldn’t pick up anything heavier than 15 pounds for six weeks. That meant that he couldn’t be left alone with the 30 pound two year old for too long. Two year olds need lots of lifting.
My friend, Erin, crashed here for the weekend. Erin is starting a new career as a landscape engineer. She planted irises and daisies in the front and mapped out plans for a heather garden along the side of the house. We stood in the backyard and played God with nature. Many of backyard trees have seen better days. Like the 30s. So, they have to go. Trees that hang at 45 degree angles from the ground and are held in place by string on the fence. There are three old lilac trees and one weather beaten yew that are keepers, but the others are just sticks in the ground.
Perhaps it is supreme arrogance, but I believe that arranging and planning your surroundings can improve public life. Not only will planting new trees make our postage stamp backyard a place where kids can kick a ball and a setting for lively dinner parties, but on a larger scale, smarter organized parks make cities and towns more livable.
Prime example. Central Park. I spent many summer afternoons roller blading around the small and the large circle. Later, with the kids, we just roamed around. The park was so smartly designed that it is always surprising. A couple of months ago, we found a new section of the park called the Rambles which has thicker folliage than the rest of the park and the bird watchers hang out there. How many kids have gone there over the years to escape from the concrete that surrounds the park? How many old folks have sat on a bench after taking their morning walk?
After Erin left, we took the kids to the church fair for zeppoli and rides. Jonah got his first ride on a ferris wheel. When we stopped at the very top, I cursed myself for not asking to see some sort of certificate proving that this death trap had passed a safety inspection. Were all the most important bolts in place? Was the operater wacked out on ‘ludes? How easy would it be to just jump out of this thing? Shouldn’t there be some straps or magnets keeping people glued to their seats? After the ferris wheel, Jonah and Ian were only allowed on rides that hugged the ground.
Apt. 11d 