Journal of a Sabbatical

May 9, 1999

password

Reading: Black Lamb and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West, The Boy Allies with Haig in Flanders by Clair Hayes

I can remember Mothers' Days past when we had to scour the yard for one teensy miserable tulip. Not today. There's so much stuff in bloom you'd think this was mid-June instead of the ninth of May. Lilies of the valley are all over the place, as is this pink stuff I've forgotten the name of. There are still plenty of tulips around too. It's just a glorious day!

Nancy and I picked up Billy on the way to La Madre's and somehow the conversation en route turned to "Six Degrees of Slobodan Milosevic". We were coming up with all sorts of paths to connect us too Milosevic in six links, when all of a sudden Billy asked: "Have any of us met Jesse Jackson?" Turns out he'd just remembered Jesse Jackson coming to Freedom School when we were kids. When he said that, I had a vague memory of that too. I have a distinct memory of being in the same room with Jesse Jackson sometime in the early 1960's. But memory can play tricks. We asked La Madre about it during dinner, but she pointed out that she didn't actually go to Freedom School - she took care of the babies - her own and the Joneses - while we went. Kevin remembers nothing about Freedom School except the field trip to Attorney General Brooke's office the night of the great northeast blackout. I'll try to remember to ask BiB when I write to him with today's ritual "Hi Bob" photo. That and whether we mixed real cement to pave roads for the Tonka trucks as Billy remembers or we used blue dust as I remember...

The after dinner entertainment was a group game of Password, which Andrea insisted on. Since there was only one of the little plastic things that let you see the hidden word, we played a modified game with one person giving clues and everybody else guessing. Whoever guessed the password got to give the clues for the next one. Andrea is really good at Password. She gives good clues and is super at guessing when other people give the clues. We got some pretty wild guesses after awhile. Everybody was laughing so hard I don't think it mattered if we ever got the password.

We all got to talk to BiB, who called from Hungary. The kids posed for the ritual "Hi Bob" photo in the Japanese maple in the backyard. Ever since they found out it was too small and delicate for us to climb when we were kids, they've been fascinated by it. I think that's when the blue dust vs. cement question came up because the kids asked about the house on Warwick Road. Lizzy wanted to walk over there and see if the apple tree I used to read and listen to ballgames in is still there, but we ran out of time.

I remembered to go up into the attic to see which one of the Boy Allies books was up there. It wasn't The Boy Allies in the Balkans Campaign after all, but The Boy Allies with Haig in Flanders. I took it anyway. After I returned Billy to his house and Nancy to the bus station, I curled up with the brave Boy Allies. I'd forgotten what children's books were like in those days. Who writes children's books with paragraphs like this anymore?

Hundreds of these tanks, bearing every resemblance to mythical monsters of a prehistoric day, crawled across the ground that separated the opposing armies. What mus have been the surprise of the German staff when the break of day showed these monsters so near?

And these guys have six brave adventures behind enemy lines before breakfast! You never know what you're gonna find in the attic.