The Salem Witch
Having moved to the USA several years ago with her husband, a fluent Spanish speaker,
this ‘ex-
From the Rocky Shores of New England, the Salem Witch Reports:
Articles by The Salem Witch
The Generation Thing
One week ago, the old Warlock and I collected our two grandchildren, a girl of ten
and a boy of seven, at Boston's Logan airport. They had been loaded on the plane
by their mother in Oregon, and had made the trip to us in fine fettle. Their mother,
our daughter, is one of the working mothers of the world, and the nicest way to deal
with the endless American summer school hols is to send them to us. We have welcomed
them for three years now, and they never complain, and enjoy our beach and the attention
of two oldies. And just yesterday we all returned to Logan Airport to collect yet
another child, this time arriving from Madrid, Spain. He is twelve, and the Warlock
is his great uncle. We were somehow put in the position of not being able to say
No, when his charming mother visited us a while back, and proposed that the lad would
love a visit over here during the endless Spanish summer school hols. In for a penny,
in for a pound, as the old saying goes, what can be wrong with a sandy cove just
five minutes walk away, and a basement full of childish things to do.
The lad from
Madrid is impossibly good looking, and has all the European sophistication, and enough
charm to sink three battle ships all at once. He hardly speaks English, but as the
Warlock speaks Spanish this is not a huge problem. But, what has happened to kids?????
Last
night I was acquainted with the fact that he hardly eats a thing which normal people
do. Not strawberries, not cake with raisins in it, forget cereal, oh, the list is
endless. And then today I loaded up the beach wagon and off we trekked to the impossibly
delightful cove near our house, for what I THOUGHT would be the time of his life
for a boy from Madrid. My two grandchildren, I must say, cannot stay out of the
water, and spend most of the summer like a pair of fish. But young Master Madrid
was not gobsmacked at all. I expected a headlong rush to the water, with the new
goggles I had bought for him, and the little surf board just like grandson's. Pero
NO! He settled into my beach chair, quick as a flash, while I was looking the other
way, and then informed me that the Atlantic is too salty, and the Atlantic beach
sand feels wrong, and otra cosa is that he does not like seaweed, of which a few
strands do admittedly float by. But our cove has crystal clear warmish water, and
soft fine sand. Honestly. Well, the day marched on, and by trickery I reclaimed
my beach chair under the brolly, but this kid never went near the water in spite
of being able to swim. 
Is there anyone else out there who finds today's kids a very
strange breed? They seem almost unable to amuse themselves for a start. They are
always turning to us adults to arrange the programme of amusements for the day. When
I was a child in the 'fifties, it was so different. I seem to recall that apart
from being told to run like heck if we ever met a funny geezer with a raincoat who
asked us if we wanted to help him find his lost puppy, we kids were almost ignored
from 9 till 5 during the summer holidays. Which was just fine by us. No one wanted
a Grownup to be part of anything, it was a world apart, of children and all their
special ways. We even had our own Saturday morning movies at the Odeon, with a sea
of heads only just poking above the chair backs, but oh the fun and noise, the only
adults being a harassed couple of ushers.
All the kids have almost disappeared from
the landscape in the USA, their parents are terrified of them being abducted, and
no kids appears in the street or in their own garden, except rarely. I cannot predict
how they will be when they are adults. They are so protected, coddled, amused by
others, and their days so planned by others. I do so hope that our grandchildren
can develop the necessary skills to deal with the unpredictable and very troubled
world which we are handing on to them.