Suddenly I have vacation fever. I want to go to Santa Fe and hike around, and guess what — we could actually do that!
See, this is the good thing about having kids in college. I only have to convince one person. (Although it’s possible that he’s actually the hardest to convince. But I think he likes Santa Fe.)
It is not raining today. Suddenly I am also filled with gardening fervor. I am possibly even filled with vacuuming fervor. I am sure this will all die down by the weekend, when I will succumb to the irresistible urge to lie on the couch and read books. Or it will rain. Or I will need to go on a hike.
I’ve been reading The Snoring Bird, by Bernd Heinrich. It’s the story of his father, a specialist in parasitic wasps, a German who grew up on an estate in Poland (West Prussia), a sort of scientist-outside-the-academy who ended up in western Maine, and then of his own life, as a kid abandoned for years in an orphanage while his parents were off collecting wasps. Almost by accident he goes to the University of Maine, then UCLA and becomes a biologist and writer and eventually comes to terms with his father.
I’m interested in how different the relationships between parents and children were, once upon a time. They have clearly changed, and for the better, I think, but I don’t exactly know why.