论文部分内容阅读
I have 3 children: Brandon, 8, Madeline, 4, and Thomas, 2. Early one morning, in late June, the two oldest came to me with an announcement.
“We are going to be farmers!”
“Farmers?!” I stared at them, puzzled.
“All we need is a garden,” Brandon explained.
“I don’t know,” I began, and was interrupted instantly with pleas and arguments.
The fact that we rent our house and aren’t allowed to 1)till the ground, didn’t deter them. Nor were they swayed by the fact that it was late June, and even an 2)unseasoned farmer like myself, knew that planting season here in Michigan had 3)practically passed.
An hour later I found myself driving an enthusiastic 4)trio to the local garden center, in hopes of finding something that would make us farmers. We started out by locating the perfect porch pots. We had decided that each child would have a 5)window-box-style 6)planter for farming in, and a bag of potting soil. Placed on our side porch, three small rectangular gardens would get optimal sunshine and give each child the chance to grow one type of plant of his or her choice. I added 3 small digging 7)shovels to the cart. Now we had just one final hurdle left. It was time to choose what to grow.
I suggested purchasing plants that had already been started. That was immediately 8)ruled out.
“Mom, we want to actually grow something,” they said.
OK, OK, off to get seeds, then.
I picked Thomas some 9)sweet peas. According to the package, they still had plenty of growing time left, were hard to kill, and practically guaranteed results. Since he is two, I’m his 10)surrogate farmer. And those things made sweet peas the perfect plant for me.
Brandon, the eldest, decided to take on a realistic approach.
“I like to eat 11)green beans,” he said, “so I’m going to grow beans. Then, we can eat them every day.”
I looked at the size of his planter and nodded encouragingly.
It was now Madeline’s turn. Based on Brandon’s grow-what-you-eat theory, she picked up a pack of carrot seeds.
“I’m growing these,” she said, 12)beaming.
It didn’t take a degree in physics to see the problem: You can’t grow carrots in a window box that’s only 6 inches deep. At 4, though, Madeline wasn’t interested in physics—just carrots.
“We have to grow carrots, they’re my favorite,” she 13)whined.
The carrots were added to the cart.
And one hour later, I was an official farmer. Black soil had 14)burrowed under my fingernails and—somehow—into Thomas’s left ear. Gardening equipment was scattered across the porch, and 3 small gardens had been planted. We watered them immediately.
A week after the big planting day, every pot had little sprouts. The kids were ecstatic. We measured them every morning and watered them every night. The sweet peas grew skinny 15)tendrils that stretched and looped around the stick 16)trellis we had built for them. The bean 17)stalks began to sprout small leaves. The carrots, though, seemed to 18)plateau after just 5 days. It appeared that their first initial growth 19)spurt may also have been their last.
Weeks passed. The beans and peas were overcrowded, but they still managed to produce a few flowers. The carrots did nothing. We waited and watered. While miniature 20)pods formed on the pea 21)vines and tiny beans 22)sprang from their stalks, the carrots remained frozen in time.
Madeline’s faith never 23)wavered. “I can’ wait until my carrots grow big,” she said, 24)munching on one of Brandon’s green beans. “We can put them all in some soup and eat it up!”
A month went by. Madeline remained diligent. She watered every night, hopeful there’d be carrots in the morning. Every morning she would check their progress.
“No, not yet,” she would say, smiling.
The magical thing about four-year-olds is their ability to remain optimistic, even when reality is staring them in the face and looking rather black—or, as in this case, brown and 25)wilted. Optimistic, even when their elder brother tried to 26)dash her hopes.
“Get real, your carrots are dead,” Brandon said. “Why water dead carrots every night?”
“No, they’re not!” she would scream. “And I’m not going to share with you, either.”
It was this kind of optimism that made me send my husband to the grocery store in search of carrots with stems. The next morning, when Madeline checked her garden, over a dozen enormous carrots were 27)poking up from her pot. Madeline 28)gleefully pulled out an abundant harvest.
Madeline was so pleased with herself that I couldn’t help being pleased with myself, too. Not bad, I thought. It took some work and, 29)true, maybe a little trickery, but I’ve grown something this summer myself—30)a little crop of gardeners, children who now know the joy of growing plants, who have seen what a little faith and persistence can do, who—
Madeline interrupted my 31)reverie.
“Next year,” she said proudly, “I’m growing watermelons!”
我有3个孩子：布兰登，8岁；玛德琳，4岁；托马斯，2岁。6月底的一天清晨，年龄较大的两个孩子过来向我宣告。
“我们准备当农民！”
“农民？！”我迷惑不解地盯着他们。
“我们所需要的仅仅是一个菜园。”布兰登解释道。
“我不知道，”我刚开口说话，就立刻被孩子们的恳求和争论打断了。
我们的房子是租的，不允许在地上耕种，但这个事实并没有阻止他们的决定。现在已是6月底，即使像我这样没有种地经验的人也知道在密歇根州这里，种植的季节几乎已经过去了，但这个事实同样没能动摇他们的决心。
1个小时后，我发现自己开车载着三个对种植充满热情的小家伙来到了本地的园艺中心，希望能找到一些会使我们成为农民的东西。我们先寻找那些最适合放置在走廊上的花盆。我们决定，每个孩子都会拥有一个用来种东西的类似窗台花箱的培植器皿和一袋盆土。3个小小的矩形菜园会被安置在我们家侧面的走廊上，以获得最理想的日照；并且每个孩子都有机会种植一种自己挑选的植物。我还将3把用来挖土的小铲子放到手推车上。现在，我们只剩下最后一道难题——是时候选择种什么了。
我建议买那些已经开始生长的植物。但这个建议立即就被否决了。
“妈妈，我们真的想种出一些东西来。”他们说道。
好吧。好吧。那就去拿种子吧。
我为托马斯挑选了一些香豌豆的种子。根据包装袋上的说明，这些种子还有足够的时间生长，而且容易成活，几乎保证了收成。因为托马斯才两岁，我就成了他的代理农民。以上种种使香豌豆成为我最理想的植物。
年龄最大的布兰登决定采取一种实际一点的做法。
“我喜欢吃青豆。”他说，“所以我准备种豆子。这样，以后我们每天都有青豆吃。”
我看了看他那培植器皿的大小，然后鼓励地点了点头。
现在轮到玛德琳挑种子了。根据布兰登的那个“种你所吃的”原理，她挑选了一包胡萝卜种子。
“我准备种植这些。”她眉开眼笑地说。
没有获得物理学学位的人也能看出其中的问题：你不能在一个只有6英寸（约15厘米）深的窗台花箱里种胡萝卜。可是，年仅4岁的玛德琳对物理没兴趣——她只对胡萝卜感兴趣。
“我们一定要种胡萝卜，它们是我的最爱。”她嘀咕着。
于是胡萝卜种子被放进了手推车里。
又一个小时后，我正式成了一个农民。我用手指在黑土里挖洞，不知怎么的，黑土还跑进了托马斯的左耳里。园艺工具散落在走廊上，3个小菜园已经被开辟出来了。我们马上给种下去的种子浇水。
那个重大的种植日过去1个星期后，每个盆里都长出了小芽。孩子们都欣喜若狂。我们每天早上都测量芽儿的高度，每天晚上都给它们浇水。香豌豆长出了小小的卷须，那些卷须沿着我们为它们搭建的棚架伸展、缠绕。青豆茎上开始长出了小叶子。可是胡萝卜似乎只长了5天就不再生长，彷佛它们最初生长的那股劲儿也就是它们最后的力气了。
几周过去了，青豆苗和豌豆苗挤满了盆子，但它们还是设法开出了一些花。而胡萝卜苗没有任何变化。我们一边等待一边给它们浇水。当香豌豆的藤蔓上结出了小豆荚，青豆茎上长出了一些小青豆时，胡萝卜苗还是老样子，彷佛在时间里冻结了一般。
玛德琳的信念从未动摇过。“我等不及要看我的胡萝卜长大。” 她一边说，一边大声咀嚼着布兰登的一颗青豆。“我们可以把它们全都放进某种汤里，然后统统吃光！”
一个月过去了。玛德琳依然很勤奋。她每天晚上浇水，希望第二天早上能看到长出的胡萝卜。每天早上她都会检查它们的生长进度。
“不，还没有呢。”她会微笑着说。
4岁的孩子身上最不可思议的东西便是他们保持乐观的能力，即使当现实正摆在他们的面前，而且看起来相当黑暗——或者，像这次的事情那样，只见褐色的泥土和枯萎的苗。（编者注：文中的brown and wilted既有本意也有比喻义，译文采用的是其本意，其比喻意义为“让人沮丧、泄气”。）即使当哥哥试图挫伤她的希望时，她仍然很乐观。
“真的，你的胡萝卜死了。”布兰登说，“你为什么每天晚上都给死了的胡萝卜浇水呢？”
“不，它们没有死！”她会尖叫着回答，“到时候我也不会和你分享它们的。”
正是这种乐观促使我让丈夫到食品杂货店去找一些带茎的胡萝卜。第二天早上，当玛德琳检查她的菜园时，十几个巨大的胡萝卜正从她的盆里探出头来。玛德琳欢喜地拔出一颗她的硕果。
玛德琳对自己很满意，以至于我也忍不住为自己开心起来。我想，一切还不赖。付出了一些劳动，而且确切地说，或许还有一点小小的欺骗，但这个夏天，我自己已经培养出了一些东西—— 一小队园丁。他们现在是知道了种植植物的乐趣的孩子，他们看到了一点信念和一份坚持的力量，他们——
玛德琳打断了我的冥想。
“明年,”她骄傲地说，“我准备种西瓜!”
“We are going to be farmers!”
“Farmers?!” I stared at them, puzzled.
“All we need is a garden,” Brandon explained.
“I don’t know,” I began, and was interrupted instantly with pleas and arguments.
The fact that we rent our house and aren’t allowed to 1)till the ground, didn’t deter them. Nor were they swayed by the fact that it was late June, and even an 2)unseasoned farmer like myself, knew that planting season here in Michigan had 3)practically passed.
An hour later I found myself driving an enthusiastic 4)trio to the local garden center, in hopes of finding something that would make us farmers. We started out by locating the perfect porch pots. We had decided that each child would have a 5)window-box-style 6)planter for farming in, and a bag of potting soil. Placed on our side porch, three small rectangular gardens would get optimal sunshine and give each child the chance to grow one type of plant of his or her choice. I added 3 small digging 7)shovels to the cart. Now we had just one final hurdle left. It was time to choose what to grow.
I suggested purchasing plants that had already been started. That was immediately 8)ruled out.
“Mom, we want to actually grow something,” they said.
OK, OK, off to get seeds, then.
I picked Thomas some 9)sweet peas. According to the package, they still had plenty of growing time left, were hard to kill, and practically guaranteed results. Since he is two, I’m his 10)surrogate farmer. And those things made sweet peas the perfect plant for me.
Brandon, the eldest, decided to take on a realistic approach.
“I like to eat 11)green beans,” he said, “so I’m going to grow beans. Then, we can eat them every day.”
I looked at the size of his planter and nodded encouragingly.
It was now Madeline’s turn. Based on Brandon’s grow-what-you-eat theory, she picked up a pack of carrot seeds.
“I’m growing these,” she said, 12)beaming.
It didn’t take a degree in physics to see the problem: You can’t grow carrots in a window box that’s only 6 inches deep. At 4, though, Madeline wasn’t interested in physics—just carrots.
“We have to grow carrots, they’re my favorite,” she 13)whined.
The carrots were added to the cart.
And one hour later, I was an official farmer. Black soil had 14)burrowed under my fingernails and—somehow—into Thomas’s left ear. Gardening equipment was scattered across the porch, and 3 small gardens had been planted. We watered them immediately.
A week after the big planting day, every pot had little sprouts. The kids were ecstatic. We measured them every morning and watered them every night. The sweet peas grew skinny 15)tendrils that stretched and looped around the stick 16)trellis we had built for them. The bean 17)stalks began to sprout small leaves. The carrots, though, seemed to 18)plateau after just 5 days. It appeared that their first initial growth 19)spurt may also have been their last.
Weeks passed. The beans and peas were overcrowded, but they still managed to produce a few flowers. The carrots did nothing. We waited and watered. While miniature 20)pods formed on the pea 21)vines and tiny beans 22)sprang from their stalks, the carrots remained frozen in time.
Madeline’s faith never 23)wavered. “I can’ wait until my carrots grow big,” she said, 24)munching on one of Brandon’s green beans. “We can put them all in some soup and eat it up!”
A month went by. Madeline remained diligent. She watered every night, hopeful there’d be carrots in the morning. Every morning she would check their progress.
“No, not yet,” she would say, smiling.
The magical thing about four-year-olds is their ability to remain optimistic, even when reality is staring them in the face and looking rather black—or, as in this case, brown and 25)wilted. Optimistic, even when their elder brother tried to 26)dash her hopes.
“Get real, your carrots are dead,” Brandon said. “Why water dead carrots every night?”
“No, they’re not!” she would scream. “And I’m not going to share with you, either.”
It was this kind of optimism that made me send my husband to the grocery store in search of carrots with stems. The next morning, when Madeline checked her garden, over a dozen enormous carrots were 27)poking up from her pot. Madeline 28)gleefully pulled out an abundant harvest.
Madeline was so pleased with herself that I couldn’t help being pleased with myself, too. Not bad, I thought. It took some work and, 29)true, maybe a little trickery, but I’ve grown something this summer myself—30)a little crop of gardeners, children who now know the joy of growing plants, who have seen what a little faith and persistence can do, who—
Madeline interrupted my 31)reverie.
“Next year,” she said proudly, “I’m growing watermelons!”
我有3个孩子：布兰登，8岁；玛德琳，4岁；托马斯，2岁。6月底的一天清晨，年龄较大的两个孩子过来向我宣告。
“我们准备当农民！”
“农民？！”我迷惑不解地盯着他们。
“我们所需要的仅仅是一个菜园。”布兰登解释道。
“我不知道，”我刚开口说话，就立刻被孩子们的恳求和争论打断了。
我们的房子是租的，不允许在地上耕种，但这个事实并没有阻止他们的决定。现在已是6月底，即使像我这样没有种地经验的人也知道在密歇根州这里，种植的季节几乎已经过去了，但这个事实同样没能动摇他们的决心。
1个小时后，我发现自己开车载着三个对种植充满热情的小家伙来到了本地的园艺中心，希望能找到一些会使我们成为农民的东西。我们先寻找那些最适合放置在走廊上的花盆。我们决定，每个孩子都会拥有一个用来种东西的类似窗台花箱的培植器皿和一袋盆土。3个小小的矩形菜园会被安置在我们家侧面的走廊上，以获得最理想的日照；并且每个孩子都有机会种植一种自己挑选的植物。我还将3把用来挖土的小铲子放到手推车上。现在，我们只剩下最后一道难题——是时候选择种什么了。
我建议买那些已经开始生长的植物。但这个建议立即就被否决了。
“妈妈，我们真的想种出一些东西来。”他们说道。
好吧。好吧。那就去拿种子吧。
我为托马斯挑选了一些香豌豆的种子。根据包装袋上的说明，这些种子还有足够的时间生长，而且容易成活，几乎保证了收成。因为托马斯才两岁，我就成了他的代理农民。以上种种使香豌豆成为我最理想的植物。
年龄最大的布兰登决定采取一种实际一点的做法。
“我喜欢吃青豆。”他说，“所以我准备种豆子。这样，以后我们每天都有青豆吃。”
我看了看他那培植器皿的大小，然后鼓励地点了点头。
现在轮到玛德琳挑种子了。根据布兰登的那个“种你所吃的”原理，她挑选了一包胡萝卜种子。
“我准备种植这些。”她眉开眼笑地说。
没有获得物理学学位的人也能看出其中的问题：你不能在一个只有6英寸（约15厘米）深的窗台花箱里种胡萝卜。可是，年仅4岁的玛德琳对物理没兴趣——她只对胡萝卜感兴趣。
“我们一定要种胡萝卜，它们是我的最爱。”她嘀咕着。
于是胡萝卜种子被放进了手推车里。
又一个小时后，我正式成了一个农民。我用手指在黑土里挖洞，不知怎么的，黑土还跑进了托马斯的左耳里。园艺工具散落在走廊上，3个小菜园已经被开辟出来了。我们马上给种下去的种子浇水。
那个重大的种植日过去1个星期后，每个盆里都长出了小芽。孩子们都欣喜若狂。我们每天早上都测量芽儿的高度，每天晚上都给它们浇水。香豌豆长出了小小的卷须，那些卷须沿着我们为它们搭建的棚架伸展、缠绕。青豆茎上开始长出了小叶子。可是胡萝卜似乎只长了5天就不再生长，彷佛它们最初生长的那股劲儿也就是它们最后的力气了。
几周过去了，青豆苗和豌豆苗挤满了盆子，但它们还是设法开出了一些花。而胡萝卜苗没有任何变化。我们一边等待一边给它们浇水。当香豌豆的藤蔓上结出了小豆荚，青豆茎上长出了一些小青豆时，胡萝卜苗还是老样子，彷佛在时间里冻结了一般。
玛德琳的信念从未动摇过。“我等不及要看我的胡萝卜长大。” 她一边说，一边大声咀嚼着布兰登的一颗青豆。“我们可以把它们全都放进某种汤里，然后统统吃光！”
一个月过去了。玛德琳依然很勤奋。她每天晚上浇水，希望第二天早上能看到长出的胡萝卜。每天早上她都会检查它们的生长进度。
“不，还没有呢。”她会微笑着说。
4岁的孩子身上最不可思议的东西便是他们保持乐观的能力，即使当现实正摆在他们的面前，而且看起来相当黑暗——或者，像这次的事情那样，只见褐色的泥土和枯萎的苗。（编者注：文中的brown and wilted既有本意也有比喻义，译文采用的是其本意，其比喻意义为“让人沮丧、泄气”。）即使当哥哥试图挫伤她的希望时，她仍然很乐观。
“真的，你的胡萝卜死了。”布兰登说，“你为什么每天晚上都给死了的胡萝卜浇水呢？”
“不，它们没有死！”她会尖叫着回答，“到时候我也不会和你分享它们的。”
正是这种乐观促使我让丈夫到食品杂货店去找一些带茎的胡萝卜。第二天早上，当玛德琳检查她的菜园时，十几个巨大的胡萝卜正从她的盆里探出头来。玛德琳欢喜地拔出一颗她的硕果。
玛德琳对自己很满意，以至于我也忍不住为自己开心起来。我想，一切还不赖。付出了一些劳动，而且确切地说，或许还有一点小小的欺骗，但这个夏天，我自己已经培养出了一些东西—— 一小队园丁。他们现在是知道了种植植物的乐趣的孩子，他们看到了一点信念和一份坚持的力量，他们——
玛德琳打断了我的冥想。
“明年,”她骄傲地说，“我准备种西瓜!”