So the next day, the folks and Mark and I went to the Omaha Botanical Gardens. This is a fairly new innovation--four years since they got the land, I think--and I'd never seen it.
This is my folks, with one of the J. Doe statues in the hasta garden near the entrance of the botanical gardens. The J. Doe Project is a series of statues that different artists have painted and adorned as they please. It's like the cows in Chicago. The sharks in San Jose. The pigs in Milwaukee. Whatever. Some of them are pretty and some are not. My folks are shown with "Doeicelli's Birth of Venus."
My mom said, "I'm not sure I want these pictures going on a webpage, with my hair not blown dry and just pulled back. Maybe if you got a variety of pictures...." I said, "Oh, but you're willing to go out with me looking like this? 'When you're around your friends, you can dress as you like, but when you're going to be around my friends....'"
One of the great pleasures of growing up is being able to use your parents' favorite lines back on them.
Here's me in the herb garden. I'm going to have a book with a big herb garden in it, when I get around to writing my historical novel about the amateur astronomer. It'll be cool.
My mom said, "Oh, spearmint! We used to have this in my grandma's backyard." She picked a leaf for me and one for her. "Here, chew on it." Obediently, I popped it in my mouth and started chewing. "Do I swallow it when I'm done or spit it out?" I asked. "Spit it out," she said. It tasted, appropriately enough, of spearmint. I started to spit the pieces out. "Oh, no," says Mother, "you don't chew on it!"
Sigh.
The best part of the botanical gardens in Omaha at this time of year is the children's garden. It's quite extensive, has interesting features, very kid-friendly but not in a way that talks down to them.
Here's Mark in the fairy ring. It didn't look like a fairy ring to me, since there were no toadstools at all and lots of big, bright flowers. But it was still nice.
And here's Mark and me at the start of the labyrinth. They used fairly tall, thick plants, so for a little kid, it's truly a maze.
If you look up above the trees in this one, you'll be able to see the grain elevators. (The skyline is on my right hand from this position. But Omaha isn't about skyline. If you have to build buildings up, you failed: you were trying to pack too many people into too small an area.) In some cities -- like in Maple Grove, for example -- the grain elevators mean you've reached the end of town. Not in Omaha. There are some smack in the middle, right off the highway. And the trees here mean that there are people, houses, things to do and see, because trees only show up on the prairie because people plant them.
We are what we are.
"Start tearing the old man down
Run past the heather and down to the old road
Start turning the grain into the ground Roll a new leaf over
In the middle of the night, there's an old man treading around in the gathered rain
Well mister, if you're going to walk on water
Could you drop a line my way?
Omaha Somewhere in middle America
Get right to the heart of matters
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your ticket in
And get your money back at the door
Start threading a needle
Brush past the shuttle that slides through the cold room
Start turning the wool across the wire Roll a new life over
In the middle of the night, there's an old man threading his toes through a bucket of rain
Hey mister, you don't want to walk on water
you're only going to walk all over me
Omaha Somewhere in middle America
Get right to the heart of the matters
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your ticket in
And get your money back at the door
Start running the banner down
Drop past the color come up through the summer rain
Start turning the girl into the ground Roll a new love over
In the middle of the day, there's a young man rolling around in the earth and rain
Hey Mister, if you're going to walk on water
You know you're only going to walk all over me.
Omaha Somewhere in middle America
Get right to the heart of matters
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your ticket in
And get your money back at the door."