“Old-Ladyville”
By Sarah
(a.k.a. “Mimi”) Fisk
I
have noticed that the clock in my life seems to be ticking faster and faster, as I advance
towards old-ladyville. To take liberties with
“Preface to the Past” by Ogden Nash—
How confusing the beams from memory’s lamp are; One day a single girl, the next a gramdma. What is the secret of the trick? How
did I get so old so quick?
At 5:38
a.m. on one recent Wednesday I slipped out of bed groaning and moaning to the bathroom on
creaky knees. I dressed in my black slacks to
look slimmer (didn’t help) and white turtleneck T-shirt (big mistake) and at 7:15
a.m. I picked up my four-year-old granddaughter Gracen.
We were going on a “Mimi Adventure” to the zoo with her pre-school
class. (To Gracen, I am “Mimi” and
anywhere we go is an adventure.) At 7:32 a.m.
I spilled black coffee down the front of my white shirt.
I never used to be so sloppy.
On the way to
Gracen’s pre-school Gracen made up the song, “The horse jumped over the
moon...” (Which I thought was very creative). At
8:04 I dropped off Gracen at her school and parked nearby to work on a crossword puzzle. What IS a five-letter word for laments? I wrote down “wines”…wrong answer. I never used to make such mistakes.
At 8:45 I walked into Gracen’s class, the “Raccoons,” embarrassed by
my coffee-stained front. Gracen was glad to see me; she didn’t care about my spotted
shirt (which I thought was very loving). At 9:02
I lined up behind three other SUVs to drive in tandem to the zoo. At 9:04 I lost track of
all the other cars I was supposed to follow. I
never used to get lost so easily.
I
fought traffic driving towards the zoo and Gracen sang a sharing song as I handed her
slices of my apple. At 9:55 I fell in behind
the “Raccoon” car pool again. I
don’t know how I fell in behind the carpool, it just appeared in front of me. At 10:02 Gracen and I walked into the zoo with the
other “Raccoons.” The morning was cool and sunny, perfect “zooing”
weather as we watched seals swim and a Komodo dragon flick his long tongue in and out,
giraffes walk and African elephants wash themselves with dust. Then to the monkey cages where one monkey had
flyaway, stick-straight hair like Gracen’s year old brother, Griffin. A vulture
followed me with his yellow eyes as I walked by his cage.
I never used to attract vultures.
At 10:55
a.m. Gracen and I had fifteen minutes to walk through the Children’s Zoo. We sat in a
huge concrete “eagle nest” and chirped like hungry eaglets expecting to be fed.
We met up again with the “Raccoons” who were waiting for us and walked together
to the zoo’s train. At 11:28 Gracen and I
rode the miniature train. We pretended to be
two princesses going to the ball in a golden carriage as we waved to picnickers, police
horses, and swimming ducks. I never used to
act childlike so freely.
At 12:02 p.m.
the zoo-school trip was over. At 12:32 Gracen
and I ate hamburgers at McDonald’s and Gracen shared her French fries with me while
singing another chorus of the sharing song. I
love to lunch with Gracen. She is my excuse to
eat a “High Fat-All Carb” diet. At 1:09
we entered The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. Gracen and I walked through the light tunnel
of changing colors to the Jackson Pollock paintings at the beginning of the Bayou Bend Art
Collection. While Pollock is known for his abstract paintings, there was also a Pollock
painting of a farmer walking behind a hand plow. Gracen
remembered pretending to be a farmer behind a plow in her ballet class. And so, Gracen twirled, skipped, and toe-pointed
through the next twelve rooms of art (which I thought was very adorable). She paused just long enough to inspect the detail
of Fredrick Remington’s “Busting Bronco” sculpture with me, look at a
painting of a mother and baby, and glance at paintings by such artists as Georgia
O’Keefe and John Singer Sargent. Together
we saw at least fifty paintings and sculptures, but I can remember only a few of the
artist’s names. I never used to forget names so quickly.
On
our way out of the museum we stopped to look at a long, narrow wooden sculpture hanging in
front of the gift shop. Gracen thought it looked like an alligator. I told her the name of the sculpture was
“Crocodile.” As she breezed past me to enter the gift shop she glanced back and
said, “Oh sorry.” (Which I thought
was very funny). In the gift shop she
immediately spotted a book about the artist Roy Lichtenstein and told me that
“Drowning Girl” (her favorite painting from another museum visit) was not the
picture of the girl on the front of the book. She
then noticed a small book called Colors. As she flipped through the pages, she
pointed out three paintings we had just seen in the art exhibit. Of course I bought the book. I never used to indulge a child’s every
wish.
At 1:54
we were in my car, buckled up, driving back to North Houston. Gracen entertained me by singing, “Some Day my
Prince Will Come” from Snow White with just a hint of trill in her voice as she tried
to reach the high notes. She reminded me that
it was 2:22 at 2:22 and explained that Belle from “Beauty and the Beast" was not
really a princess because of the dress she wears. (Evidently
Gracen feels that clothes make the princess.) At
2:53 p.m. our “Mimi Adventure” ended and a happy-to-see-us mommy greeted us. I said goodbye and drove home. At 3:43 p.m. I took off my sensible shoes. I never used to wear sensible shoes.
Time
is pushing me too fast. My body aches, my
memory fails, my feet hurt. But trips with my
granddaughter, who ignores my coffee-stained clothes, lets me pretend to be a princess,
and entertains me with “Someday My Prince Will Come" are the cure.
“Mimi Adventures” with Gracen are the
perks, easing my way into old-ladyville.
Gracen's Take on our day
at the zoo:
GOING TO THE ZOO by Gracen Emily
Fisk
Gracen went to the zoo at her
school.
She saw seals and elephants.
Then she saw giraffes and zebras.
We saw tigers walking and bears too.
At the Children’s Zoo we saw green parrots.
She went home to her mommy and daddy.
Gracen had fun at the zoo.
It’s an extra fun thing to do.
To go to the zoo.