Duck, Duck, Goose

I really did plan to get the lettuce 6pack into the garden bed.  I brought my sharp digging tools so that the big kids could continue their work on the holes for the rosemary and the blackberry bush.  With all the rain that's fallen, our normally rock solid ground is just a bit more pliable; I anticipated great progress being made.

I didn't find a parking space close enough for my greedy satisfaction by the back gate near the garden, so I drove to the front parking lot and walked in the main door, carrying my bag of tools and a smaller bag of brownies for each of the kindergarten teachers.  I distributed single foil wrapped home baked goods to the receptionist and the Principal's assistant and the nurse and the Native People's Outreach worker on my way out the door, to cross the playground and walk to the garden.

I didn't get very far.

Grandma!  Grandma! and then there were kindergarten kids, 4 rows deep, trying to get their arms around me.  I was hooked.  Sure, I would be delighted to play Duck, Duck, Goose with them as I wondered if my struggle to get down to the ground was more evidence that I'm growing old or if I could still blame it on my hip repair.  It took several turns before I was the goose; I got up much quicker than I got down.  

The game devolved into several two person races at the same time, when one of them asked to go to the garden.  So we trucked across the grass, ate some stevia from the only plant in the veggie garden that's actually planted, looked at the small seedlings which are emerging from the seeds we put down last month, and I found myself agreeing to read them a story after recess.

I looked sorrowfully at the lettuce still living in its 6pack, and followed the leader back to the teacher and the line and the classroom where I sat on top of a student-sized desk and read Leo Lioni's Swimmy to a rapt audience. 

The lettuce will be there tomorrow.  This morning I was kidnapped by a band of 5 and 6 year olds.... and I didn't resist too hard.