it is kinda nice to have the diaryland banner campaign over with. settling back into a more normal diary life now. getting to reflect.

at work, i am preparing our spring "adventure trail". this trail takes the children and their family through our oak forest to read storyboards. we obtain copyright permission to use a book (some years i have had to write it when we could not successfully get a book- WHICH IS EXCRUCIATING!!! anyway...)

the book this year is about a little tomboy who looks different. she eventually displays unusual abilities. she can grow enormous vegetables. the point of the tale is - that being different is good and can be fruitful (in a vegetable sorta way.)

in the trail, i am asking the question: "do you think it is good to be different?" the underlying answer in this book is: yes!

but, who are we kidding? shouldn't we also be telling kids that when they are different that it is HARD? o.k., i know that having families leaving the adventure trail weeping because they read a story about being different where a little girl get abused by her peers and such - well that isn't good... that said, let's think here...

test case: me

historical diatribe on the family-of-origin:

born cradled in the land of milk and honey - the Henry Fords and Edisons - old money, old families.

however, the vibe at our house was poor and artsy. mom was all theater, opera, dance, literature. dad was all engineer- making furniture, built boats, vehicles, designed and built our home. he was a ameatur photographer and a gypsy traveler. all my sibs did fine arts. being the youngest, i followed this menagery of colorful, opinionated, artsy people in the midst of the 60's. they were a little suspiscious, a little off center, unconventional. maybe communist. maybe clowns. mom and dad were involved in a PTA talent show and did a hobo routine. A HOBO ROUTINE. others went to hotels on vacation. we went camping. CAMPING. back when it was not cool to go camping. before eco-tours, OK?

it was embarassing.

and then, there were my clothes. a majority of which were hand-me-downs. as the last child, there was a reservoir of garb that overtook me. defined my "look" (or lack thereof.) with the exception of socks and undies, the look was a bit faded, worn - really of a previous fashion palette. the school dress code had just changed to allow girls to wear pants BUT I DID NOT HAVE ANY PANTS. so i wore out-of-fashion dresses and skirts.

in addition, there were the home-made clothes. the home-made clothes were newer, that being said, they were still miserable. seams might not lay quite right, sometimes the choice of fabric was a bit off for the pattern. sometimes an off color.

hair- out.of.control. no more to say on the topic.

and then, i was not a "let's play barbies" kinda girl. never had a barbie. had a francey. it's hard to make little playfriends without a barbie. see my francey? what?

FYI: even if i had asked for a barbie, i would never had gotten one.

so i was different. what became of me?

things hardly change. today - i am wearing a hand-me-down sweater that the mancub will not wear. he buys clothes that he has misgivings about and they migrate to my end of the closet. the difference is - for the most part- they have only been worn a few times. they are classic styles or still "GAP from 1-2 seasons ago". he has champagne taste.

and tho i couldn't play barbies with girly-girls, i used to gather all kinds of toys and dolls and stuffed animals and have these "happenings" or "events" that employed an enormous numbers of characters. today, my role as an event planner in a botanical garden feels like cheating, because i used to have full scale events under my bed, attended by millions and millions of these dolls and toys. as an adult today, having 4,000 people at my event today is a bre-eeeze! you should have SEEN the 8 year-old who had thousands of attendees and there was a fire and a fight, and hot air balloons and cheatahs and a dance... and that was just when i was getting started!

i am a bit off-center and strange, unconventional. maybe a communist. maybe a clown. and, loving it more and more.

okay, so the adventure trail will be installed as is. no revisions necessary.