Summer Eating

I know that this might sound strange, but when my kids were younger, I dreaded the end of summer. We had so much fun together that the arrival of August would make me long for the early days of June.

Summer brings a time for special foods. There are always lots of fresh vegetables and fruits, but my son and daughter share my love for good old Maryland steamed crabs. The smell of Old Bay seasoning gets us salivating! When they were both little and in high chairs, I would pick the crab meat for them and place it on the trays of their high chairs. Both of my children quickly acquired the skill to pick crabs, waiting for me to do it for them took way too long!

We would sit out on the patio at a long table covered with newspaper and spread out the feast of several dozen crabs. There the entire family would sit for hours, picking and talking, and talking and picking.

My two babies returned home this summer. Although it was only for a few days, my memories of summers past came flooding back. “When are we having crabs,” my son asked as we began to plan activities for their visit home.

We dug out the mallets, grabbed some newspapers, and called in our order. My son and I went to pick up the little critters, and drove home basking in the aroma of Old Bay. By the time we returned home, the tables had been set up on the patio, paper spread, and ready for the feast.

For the next two hours, we picked those crabs clean. It was just like always, with one slight new change. My granddaughter, Chloe sat in her high chair as my daughter picked small pieces of crabmeat and placed them in her mouth. She would wave her arms and kick her legs indicating that Mommy needed to continue the crab feeding!

As I watched my family, I was so thankful for the time we had had together, but I knew that it would soon be time for them to leave. My “summer,” my visit with my babies, was quickly coming to an end.

They’re all back at their own homes now. Summer vacation has ended for me. But the beautiful thing about summer is that it comes back every year, and I know that soon Miss Chloe will be picking her own crabs!

Summer Amusement

I know that this might sound strange, but when my kids were younger, I dreaded the end of summer. We had so much fun together that the arrival of August would make me long for the early days of June.

Each summer meant a trip to at least one amusement park, and more often than not, it was Hersheypark. We would all hit the sack early the night before. The almost two hour drive and the ritual breakfast stop at Mountaingate restaurant meant that we had to be backing out of the driveway no later than 7am in order to arrive in time for the park’s opening.

Hersheypark was always my favorite of the parks. It was there, at the age of 14 months that my son took his first steps. It was in Hershey that my daughter fell in love with her first roller coaster at the age of five.

With each trip to Hershey, the first on the list of rides was the Comet. My children both loved roller coasters-the front car always being the best seat. Typically after the first ride, they were back in line to do it all over again. We would pry them from the Comet and then move on to the Super Dooper Looper.

They would ride all day long, and we would walk back through the gates as the park was closing. The drive back home would begin with the two of them giggling in the back seat and end with the two of them fast asleep by the time we reached Thurmont.

Both of my babies returned home this summer. Although it was only for a few days, my memories of summers past came flooding back. We took that trip to Hersheypark once again, but this time the back seat held my granddaughter’s car seat.

Scheduled departure time was 7am, as always, and we filled our bellies once again at Mountaingate. Yes, my kids ran right to the roller coasters when we entered the park. They’ve changed a bit since the last time we were there. My “older” babies admitted that Skyrush was a bit tough on their aging systems.

I strolled my granddaughter’s carriage past the place where I held my son’s hand as he took his first steps. I watched my own daughter giggle and run to the line for the roller coasters. It was just like old times, but it wasn’t. I was spending my time gazing at this new little girl. She smiled and giggled on the rides, too. We spent some quality time, just the two of us, amusing ourselves in that amusement park while the "older" kids went riding. Some new traditions were beginning.

As the sun began to set, I started to dread the end of the day. The end of my “summer,” my visit with my babies.

They’re all back at their own homes now. Summer vacation has ended for me. But the beautiful thing about summer is that it comes back every year. We’ve already begun planning next year’s amusement park excursion.

Summer Fun!

I know that this might sound strange, but when my kids were younger, I dreaded the end of summer. We had so much fun together that the arrival of August would make me long for the early days of June.

Summer meant time at the pool. There were times when I firmly believed that both of my children were fish. Hours were spent in the water with brief respites for food and drink. At the end of the day, they would come into the house with water-shriveled fingers and feet.

There were pool parties with cars parked all over the front lawn, and kids running all over the backyard. The volleyball net was set up across the pool and some fierce competition usually began. As the sun set, the pool light came on, tiki torches were lit, and we continued the party into the late night hours.

My son was always known for his cannonball jumps. Much of the pool water would splash out with each one of his jumps. Tiffany, my daughter, was more inclined to do her cartwheels off the deck of the pool. Each child laughed and we all smiled when they hit the water. While my husband grumbled about all the work required to keep that swimming pool in order, I always thought it was one of the best additions to the house that we ever made.

Both of my babies returned home this summer. Although it was only for a few days, my memories of summers past came flooding back. Of course, time in the pool was something they both wanted to put on the agenda for the visit.

This year, my granddaughter was introduced to the pool for the first time. She’s definitely got the swimming gene of her mother and uncle. She splashed and giggled and smiled from ear to ear as she was led around the pool in her floating tube.

My babies, however, have aged. There were no more cannonball jumps into the pool. My son preferred floating on a small raft while quietly sipping a cool beer. My daughter didn’t cartwheel, but rather shrieked at the cold temperature of the water! It was the same pool, but some things had changed.

There was still the splashing in the water, the soft light around the pool in the evening, and the good times spent together, but as I watched them having fun, I began to dread the end of this visit . The end of my “summer,” my time with my babies.

They’re all back at their own homes now. Summer vacation has ended for me. But the beautiful thing about summer is that it comes back every year. My granddaughter, Chloë is beginning swimming lessons and we’re getting ready for next summer’s visit.

This blogpost appeared as my June 2012 column, "The Empty Nest," in the Frederick News Post.

America and her spacious skies

I teach foreign languages, so I spend a great deal of time talking about life in other countries. I show pictures of beautiful places and share information about cultures that are very different from our own. There is almost always a student in the class who raises his or her hand and asks “Mrs. Jarman, why are you still living in the U.S.? Why don’t you move to Europe?”

I guess it’s because I love all of the land that is the U.S., “from the mountains to the prairies, to the oceans white with foam.” I love the wide open spaces that are part of my home. What many of my students do not realize is that the large majority of Europeans live in apartments and in cities. The United States is a sizeable country; we’ve got lots of space. There’s plenty of room to spread out. Of course, that space has facilitated urban sprawl, but it sure is nice to stretch out.

There are times when I like to ride to Harpers Ferry or up to Greenbriar State Park and just take a nice quiet stroll, hike a trail, or wander down the C & O Canal towpath. I like deserted, quiet streets. It’s peaceful and pleasant.

My daughter and son-in-law live in The Netherlands, one of the world’s most densely populated countries. It’s difficult to find deserted, quiet streets to stroll down. There are parks and many beautiful places, but solitude can be difficult to come by.

I love to drive down highways in Arizona and Nevada and to be in the only car on the road. I like to roll down the window and sing at the top of my lungs and know that no one will hear me. Sometimes I’ll pull over on the side of the road and gaze out at the wide open space, the beauty of the mountains and the red sky as the sun sets over the peaks. I love those spacious skies!

When we were living in Texas years ago, I used to love to drive the car on the beach. We could sit out on the roof of the car and watch the waves roll in. Many times it was quiet and peaceful because we were the only ones on the beach!

I like big parking lots with lots of space to park my car, neighborhoods with big yards, school yards with lots of sports fields and playgrounds. I like space and I am blessed to live in a country that has so much wide open, beautiful space.

America, the beautiful!

America The Big

I teach foreign languages, so I spend a great deal of time talking about life in other countries. I show pictures of beautiful places and share information about cultures that are very different from our own. There is almost always a student in the class who raises his or her hand and asks “Mrs. Jarman, why are you still living in the U.S.? Why don’t you move to Europe?”

The truth is that I wouldn’t fit in so well in Europe, partly because I am American. I’m big, not just in size, but in thought and in deeds. If I want to show my school spirit or team spirit, I can be loud. I have my purple flamingos in my backyard and my light-up Ravens player out in front of the house during football season to show my team pride. There’s also a lot of Oriole paraphernalia in the yard during baseball season. I’m loud about my teams! We have Raven and Oriole shirts, hats, key rings, chairs, cups, glasses…yes, all of those capitalist/consumerism society necessities! It’s American.

I like my tacky, slightly obnoxious holiday decorations. We have decorated trees, bears, toys, even decorated decorations at Christmas. Some homes here in the U.S. have huge air-filled creatures hovering over front yards to celebrate Christmas and other holidays. Most Europeans haven’t discovered the joys of Halloween, and we go crazy over it! Pumpkins, orange flowers, ghosts, goblins, fairies, and monsters decorate homes everywhere.

I love shopping in nice, big stores that offer every gadget that I could possibly imagine. I like big shopping carts to carry all of the big items I plan to purchase and decorate my house with! There are stores over-stocked with an unlimited selection of a multitude of items.

We have our McMansions that have more bedrooms than most families will ever need. And heaven knows that we Americans love our big cars. You don’t see many Jeeps or pick-up trucks cruising down the highways in Europe

And we’re loud! We like loud music, loud announcements…go into a restaurant in any city in Europe and odds are that the loudest clients are American. We want people to know that we’re here!

When my friend, Martine, arrived to spend two weeks in the U.S. with us several years ago, she looked at the houses and the cars and some of the people and remarked “Everything is so big here in America.” She’s right, we’re big, we’re bold, and we’re American!

America, Land of Opportunity

I teach foreign languages, so I spend a great deal of time talking about life in other countries. I show pictures of beautiful places and share information about cultures that are very different from our own. There is almost always a student in the class who raises his or her hand and asks “Mrs. Jarman, why are you still living in the U.S.? Why don’t you move to Europe?”

With a smile on my face, I usually answer that I don’t move because I am American. Of course, there are those times when I travel and see American tourists behaving as if everything that happens in Europe will stay in Europe. I cringe when I see fellow Americans who don’t understand that they represent every American to most Europeans.

I remember speaking to a group of French high school students who were exceptionally well-behaved even though I had been warned by the teachers that there were some behavior problem students in the class. The students gushed that they had never met a “real” American before. They had only seen images from sitcoms and other U.S. television broadcasts.

I’m happen to be very proud to be American. I’m proud to be part of a culture that encourages individuality. Be the best that you can be. I’m part of a culture that embraces the idea that if I work hard enough, I can achieve my dreams; a culture that offers second chances.

In many European school systems, students are tracked around the eighth grade. Based on academic performance, students are funneled into programs that are geared towards future university study or preparation for administrative or manual work forces. If you are tracked for university, your tuition is paid for by the government when you enter college. Many American students envy their European counterparts as they struggle to find ways to finance a college degree.

Yes, tuition is paid for, if you get there. But when I think about many of my students who in ninth, tenth, or even eleventh grade are still not sure what they want to do after high school, I worry about what would happen if they were tracked in eighth grade. It doesn’t leave much room for exploration and consideration of other possibilities. And late-bloomers are certainly not going to have many opportunities in European school systems.

The beauty of being American is that we are all so very different, and that makes us so interesting…and so special!

This blogpost appeared as my monthly column, The Empty Nest, in the Frederick News Post on July 1, 2012.

Travel is for Learning French

June, the beginning of summer, means time off of school for my students and the opportunity for travel. Mark Twain once said, “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime”

I teach languages, so travel is often necessary for my students to really have practical applications for their learning. One of my Shepherd University students approached me last spring about such a learning experience. I had mentioned in class that I have a very dear friend in France who is active in the management of the Cannes Film Festival. Bryan is a communications major and approached me about an internship at Cannes.

In all honesty, I didn’t know if there was an internship program, so I contacted my friend, Richard. Sure enough, the festival hires many, and Richard encouraged me to have Bryan apply. Together, Bryan and I worked on his cover letter and resume. It was all in French, so it was a very practical application of his classroom learning.

In March, we learned that Bryan had been accepted as an intern. Not only had he been accepted, but he was the first American student that the French had ever hired for an internship! Bryan left for France in early May and for what we both agreed would be a once in a lifetime learning opportunity.

I was able to visit with Bryan in Cannes during the second week of the festival. When I arrived, I was greeted by a well-dressed, well-versed young man who just happened to be my student. Bryan gave me a grand tour of the festival facilities sharing with me all that he had learned about the film industry…and our entire discussion was in French! He had flourished in the festival setting, and his French had progressed dramatically.

At lunch, Bryan shared with me his cultural observations. The French did lots of things differently, and Bryan was able to see the good and the bad in how things were done in France. He shared with me stories of people he had met during his adventures there, while he struggled with the language, and had learned to trust his own judgment and to know that he could get himself through the strange situations he had managed to find himself in.

This year, Bryan left his little corner of earth and his world perspective had indeed changed and grown. Travel had changed him.

Be sure to find some time to travel this summer!