Opinion - Columns - Kathe Tanner

Published: Thursday, Sep. 03, 2009

Eyes & ahs of a child

Brigadoon with treasures attached

Comments (0) |

The two girls were like high-kicking human colts as they ran from one side of our meadow to the other, leaping, bounding, waving their arms and laughing uproariously. Letting off steam and working off pent-up energy is hard work, you know.

The girls, their mother and her parents had just journeyed down from Reno for the weekend to see our new house. They been in a car forever — or it must have seemed so to a 6-year-old and her 9-year-old sister. Finally, freedom!

Jillian and Madison are lovely, happy, well-mannered, energetic youngsters. Their mother Kelsey was, too, when she was their age, and she still is, which must be a wonderful bonus for her patients in the intensive cardiac-care unit.

If I sound like a proud grandparent, I am.

The girls were entranced by prospects of exploring in our meadow, gardens and big rock pile. There were books to read, pine cones to collect and games to play. Their eagerness was contagious.

A shared yen for Japanese food produced mental snapshots of Madison devouring her beloved roe-topped sushi (which she has called “bubble sushi” since she was a toddler), and Jillian valiantly trying to maneuver chopsticks around enough rice and shredded crab to constitute a meal.

Sunday at the Coastal Discovery Center at San Simeon Bay, the girls were immediately drawn to the touch wall that talks, the video of undersea adventures, the oh-so-soft otter pelt and more.

Later, as always, the view from the end of the pier back toward shore was breathtaking.

But our ultimate destination that day was La Fiesta de Santa Rosa, the little festival that could and did.

To people accustomed to Disneyland or Sea World, the fiesta must seem merely a parish’s small, enthusiastic event for its town. Through the eyes of a child, however, the fiesta was everything it needed to be.

We were there more than three hours, but even so, the girls couldn’t work their way through $10 worth of game-booth tickets, despite going back again and again to their favorite activities.

After lunch and watching flamenco dancers, the girls made a final round of games, bracelet making and having an elaborate butterfly painted on Jillian’s face from ear to ear, forehead to chin.

At home, Maddy and Jill painstakingly parceled out their winnings, handfuls of little bears and rubber snakes, ducks and large bandanas printed with cacti or chili peppers. Watching them, Husband Richard stage-whispered, “If we’d bought them all that stuff, they wouldn’t have given it a second look. But they won it!”

Bingo. That made all the difference. For the rest of their visit, the girls remained engrossed in their trove of tiny treasures.

At one point, they paraded out of the bedroom so Madison could present her redecorated sister.

They had created Jillian’s outfit out of four bandanas. Two bandanas were tied at her waist, making an apron-like skirt. A third bandana formed an inverted halter top and a fourth became a classical babushka incongruously surrounding her butterfly face.

She looked like a tiny refugee from a bizarre Oktoberfest celebration and was giggling so hard she could barely stand up.

During the evening, the skirt and top went back to bandana-land, but the babushka stayed on … all night and the next morning and in the car as they headed home.

For all we know, she’s still wearing it.

So, this weekend, when our other young granddaughters beg for one more visit to Pinedorado’s game booths, we will remember, and look at Cambria’s other “festival that could” through the eyes of a child.

For many adults, the Labor Day celebration is a beloved annual social event with a parade, good food, art and music.

But for children, Pinedorado is magic and accomplishment, Brigadoon with treasures attached.

We can’t buy those classic Coke glasses, stuffed animals or playthings for our kids, and if we did, they’d promptly ignore and lose them.

Children must win those cherished riches with skill and luck, by having fun over and over again. Each prize is giggles masquerading as a toy, fun bottled as a souvenir and an achievement encircled by memories.

For as long as the magic lasts, they’re absolutely priceless.

E-mail Kathe Tanner at ktanner@thetribunenews.com. Read more “Slices” at thecambrian.com.