Children's Issues

She's only eleven, a robust, well-built yet slender child standing four inches taller than her grandmother and relishing that simple fact. She enjoys standing as close to me as possible, then ostentatiously looking down fondly at me, proudly aware of our disparate physiognomies. Although she still could, she no longer grasps me at first sight, swinging me off my feet in an excess of exuberant physical maturity, flushing any dignity I may attempt to assume in the process down the toilet.

And so what? I love it. The marvel of her existence is beyond belief. And her growing intelligence and inquisitiveness is a constant source of wonder to me, and inspiration as well. Now I think of it, I felt something similar when our own children were growing into themselves as teen-agers questioning just about everything, and trying out their theories and perceptions on me and their father at the dining room table every evening.

During our telephone conversation this evening she just went on from one topic of conversation to yet another. And then we kind of lingered on the topic of energy sources. Her thought was that fossil fuels were there to be used and the world should just use them until they were no longer there to be used. At which time we could switch over to alternative energy.

She wanted to discuss the efficacy and efficiency of wind power as opposed to hydro-electric power. And was interested in the niceties of reliability and functionality leading to preferential outcomes. We discussed solar-derived energy, and the reliance on natural sources like a clear sky or a windy atmosphere to make either solar or wind practicable.

We talked about the cleanliness of nuclear-derived energy, but its high infrastructure cost and operating expense opposed to reliability, contrasted with the potential for human error or engineering dependability lapses resulting in disaster of huge proportions. And, of course, the still-intractable problem of disposing of nuclear waste.

Which reminded her of the issue of disposability of plastic bags and what a bane they are on the environment. So I spoke to her of days of yore when only paper bags were used and we were overjoyed when plastic bags took their place, feeling that we no longer had to sacrifice trees for paper bags, and what an empty victory that turned out to be.

Which took her to the topic of how it was in the good old days when trade or barter was the norm, not paper money that we now use, living in times when everything is so expensive; homes, vehicles and other items that make up our needs in the present day. I reminded her that back then she would have an outhouse (eeuu!) for her use, an elemental house, a horse and buggy if she lived relatively well. And she became quietly thoughtful.

We spoke of people temporarily excusing themselves from this country, vacating their homes for warmer climes, like Puerto Rico, Mexico, Cuba, Florida. And discussed living in one's temporal environment, temperately and appreciatively. She would miss the seasons, she said. They would still be there, I told her, but different; rainy seasons instead of ice and snow.

Who knew?