The Little Ones (& Their Moms)

Back in the city, and it's sweltering. Well, it's 75 degrees anyway, and it looks like it will stay this way through next week. This is the time of year when NYC landlords are obliged to turn on the heat (and usually, we need it). Ours was turned on yesterday (for those of you who've never lived here, NYC apartment bulding heating systems are rarely controllable from apartment-to-apartment; when it's on, it's ON; when it's off, it's OFF), and when I came home in the late afternoon, the place was steaming hot, even with the windows open and ceiling fan going. Our neighbor H. said he had his A/C running. I climbed out onto the fire escape and people-watched for a little while, just to get some air and check on the little ones (i.e. the plants). It's past mid-October, and the arugula plants are stunted because it's too warm. Bizarre.

Keep at it, Al G. Nobel Prize well-deserved.

Here's something I can't quite figure: the herbs are going like gangbusters. I guess the warmth does them good, but still, here they are, way too big and overcrowded for their pots, often under-watered, no plant food, and sitting in a tiny west-facing windowsill in a room with little air circulation. But they just keep growing.

I got them from a nice little farm stand at Union Square, which begs the question of what Mr. NJ Orchid Guy had claimed, i.e. it's all about the original grower, the plant's journey from seed to seedling. You teachers and parents out there may agree, something along the lines of "the importance of early childhood development." Although my mother, Queen of Long-Living, Flourishing Orchids, picks hers up on sale at the Home Depot - usually the dregs, the half-dead throwaways.

Speaking of mom, it's inevitable, I suppose, that this blog would drift into the topic of parenting and family. Nurture and growth, environment, what it means to flourish (oneself) and to help other living things along. I am, after all, une femme d'une certaine age.

Urban motherhood is truly its own Olympic sport these days. The modern moms that I know well are urban or suburban (or both, i.e. living suburban and working urban). Some work full-time outside the home, some work part-time; I can't say that I know very many (under the age of 45) who stay home full-time. Even the majority of the moms of these moms have worked most of their lives outside the home at least part-time.

Career and fertility are prime urban mom issues for the educated/upper-middle class. All springing from the basic generational shift to "family planning," a.k.a when-you-want-it/how-you-want-it baby making. Child-bearing age stretches further and further out toward and beyond 40 (even despite the medical warnings); in the country and the middle states - the reddish/pinkish states - moms are younger (though probably not by much these days). Moms of color all around are younger, too, across social classes. I remember observing (with some discomfort) the prevalence of twins in my former Brooklyn neighborhood (a white/affluent one): older moms, multiple births, good bet of course that these were in-vitro.

Lots of stories to tell and observations to be made about city and country when it comes to family. For me, it's mostly observational, not being a mom myself. I'm keeping an eye particularly on C. & T., whom I've known since we were all in our twenties (I was present when T. proposed to C., got down on one knee - mostly as a joke - at a coffee shop late one night after we'd all gone to a music concert). T. grew up in the midwest and spent all his summers farming. He's also lived in remote parts of the Southwest, as a bachelor. He's definitely an outdoors sort of guy, and has lived in the city now (came in the 80's as a professional musician) about 20 years. With three small children, lower-middle class incomes and a lot of debt, C. & T. are now seriously considering moving back to the midwest, buying a farm, settling out there. But they're pretty torn, they've been living a culture-rich city life for so long now. And they have an adopted son, who is Puerto Rican (they are white), so they are concerned about racial and cultural homogeneity, and overwhelming political conservatism. It will be interesting to witness their process; they'll go out to see a farm for sale over Thanksgiving.

Man, it's hot. Pup's tongue is hanging out and everything. Wonder how the local farmers are doing, whose livelihoods in fact depend on the weather. The arugula and spinach this season perhaps a little wilty, the tomatoes and peppers still coming.