Thursday, November 25, 2010

Leaves Falling

Leaves are falling
like huge colored snowflakes,
silent, steady.

Falling in sheets
looking oddly stunning
with their colors.

Adding to the carpet
thick on the ground like
homemade quilts

A patchwork in design
scraps stitched together
in unison.

Keeping the earth warm
until scooped up for bonfires
of memories.

Undressing the trees
leaving dark, bare branches
lifting upward.

Monday, November 22, 2010

It has been noted several times that Jane Austen poked fun at clergymen in her novels. Yet her father was a clergyman and her favorite brother became a clergyman after his bank in London failed. Jane adored both men.

In England, clergymen of the day (late 1700s and early1800s) in small local parishes, were rather casual. They didn’t have the responsibilities of today’s churchmen. There was no counseling of parishioners, devoutly religious sermons personally written or strictness of church guidelines. Their income did not necessarily come from the collection plate but from the surrounding farmers who paid in cash rather than produce.

Positions as parish clergymen were often bought from the wealthy landowner on whose land the parish church stood. He was the man living in the usually huge ‘country manor’ or in a castle. He would have owned the nearby town where the shopkeepers would pay him rent. He also collected rent from local farmers, from land he owned in Wales or Ireland and from land owned in the American colonies until the Revolutionary War ended that hold. Often he would be in parliament.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Jane Austen's Financial Position

Friend Rebecca sent a reference to me from the book At Home about Jane Austen’s family, quoting “that she grew up in what she considered to be an embarrassingly deficient rectory at Steventon in Hampshire, but it had a drawing room, a kitchen, a parlor, a study, library, and seven bedrooms—hardly a hardship posting.”

What Bill Bryson did not note was that the Austens were landed gentry without a large income. It must be noted that she had seven brothers and one sister. After feeding and clothing all of them, the boys needed extended educations, brother George was mentally deficient and was sent to another family nearby to be raised, and two of the boys went into the navy. All these positions had to be paid for.

At one time, Jane and her sister Cassandra were sent away to school so their bedroom could be used for paying students. Mr. and Mrs. Austen ran a boarding school for boys to acquire more income. Jane became so ill that the girls had to return home. She nearly died from the incident so they stayed home after that. More than once she commented that she grew up with all boys, first with her brothers then with the added school boys. Hence she was a tomboy, good at physical outdoor play.

Also, once her father died, their income was cut off completely. Her brothers then became responsible for her, her mother and her sister. She desperately wanted to earn her own money but her brothers did not think it seemly. She was gentry.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

A Too Busy Life



Sometimes life gets too, too busy. That’s what October was this year. I allowed myself to get overloaded with committee work which crowded what my goal of being here in beautiful, inspiring Macon, North Carolina to write full time.

October said good-bye with a spooky Halloween night and November entered in with more glorious shocking colors of brilliant reds, rusts, oranges, and golden yellows, standing side by side like soldiers of different armies. I was able to finish wrapping up my latest manuscript. Tidying up five years of work, padding it down and laying it in the drawer to ferment for a month before shipping it off to the publisher is finally here.

Now it’s time to update blog spots and such while the child (manuscript) enters its last month before coming public. Time to put what I’ve recently learned in classes to work. Check out my efforts of bringing photos to my blog starting with my original and revised books of Life & Labyrinth. Side by side. Enjoy.

Saturday, October 09, 2010

Yet More Books to Love

And then there are biographies. There are so many fascinating biographies about people from all different generations and countries and reasons to read them. A good writer will tell all, the bad-or controversial- along with the good and let us judge which is which. The writer will let the story unfold with a flowing movement revealing the life, holding our attention. Not easy to do but necessary.

The person need not have been famous to be interesting. I write in past tense because I prefer reading about people who have already passed away. Their lives are over. There is no need to protect or hide anything. The flaws and failures make the final successes even more worthy. No embarrassment is considered. And it is the misadventures that create the fascination.

After all, a person who experienced no challenges, who glides through life with no losses, no pain and no scars is a very boring person indeed.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

More About Books

Also I love history. Not the dry, flaky history that used to be taught in high school although I loved history even then. But the history with real people showing particular strengths and weaknesses that I can identify with. Events that happened always had reasons. Like the mystery stories, who, what, where, when and why. Again I don’t need the play by play details of a battle fought and the individual result, i.e. bodies whacked to pieces, eyeballs hanging out, etc. Ugh.

But the inner workings of events, how they came about, the personalities of the key figures and their relationship to each other. Everyone has a story and the players in history had theirs. They are the ones who created the chronicle of their day. History wasn’t necessarily made by physical events but by individuals and their reactions to moments that happened to them. A slight? An embarrassment? An insult? A misunderstanding?

The personal is what brings history to life. The surface must be scratched to find the untold tales. After all it’s what our whole foundation is built on. Because it is a foundation we can learn from the mistakes of earlier leaders, rulers, and the average person who cared.

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

A Good Book

I love a mystery. A puzzle. A whodunit. Something that I can work along the lines with the author, trying to figure out who, what, where and most important, why. Challenge. But I want believable characters with common sense in settings I can visualize as everyday even if the story is set in Victorian times. Wealthy or not doesn’t make a difference. Gory details of a demented mind are not necessary to tell me when a body is dead. The author can state the weapon of choice but I don’t need a picture drawn for me. I can do that in my own imagination.

If I see the plot line and know the perpetrator of dark deeds early on, the joy is slain. No sense in finishing the story…unless it is a red herring with an unexpected twist. Ahh. The plot thickens.

Further, we are so fortunate to have more women writing novels of all genres today. This happening has all but eliminated the ‘dumb female’ character in stories. I used to choke on that depiction of a woman character, one who was running a household or holding down an intelligent job being portrayed as stupid. Ugh.

Of course even really good interesting mysteries aren’t always remembered. The authors are, particularly when they write many books and I can look for them by the author's name. The pleasure is simply in reading them. But the novels of the originator of the mystery novels Wilkie Collins and present-day novelist Sharyn McCrumb’s stories I remember. And also, of course, Agatha Christie’s.

Monday, October 04, 2010

Sunday Deer

Sunday night after an early dinner, I decided to go for a walk to replace the morning walk I missed and to change my schedule a bit. It’s my habit, to look deep into the forest as I go along the paved road. It’s always so peaceful, full of something I’m not aware of. My thoughts tend to deepen as I get lost in the moment.

Suddenly a flash of movement lurched through the wood at a high rate of speed. Startled, I jumped. But it was just a doe racing between the trees. Like me, she was alone. Nothing was chasing it. I imagine it was out for a bit of exercise after dinner as I was. It’s delightful and somehow reassuring to see a connection between us.

Friday, October 01, 2010

Puccini for Deer

Favorite Puccini Arias by Marton, Scotto and Te Kanawa was soaring from my sound system this morning at 10 a.m. as I sat at my kitchen table for a coffee break from cleaning the house. The windows were wide open for this fresh, crisp air to flow in. I glanced up to see a doe with her three fawn, heads bent, nibbling the sodden grass. My breath stopped at such beauty, such a sign of peace and gracefulness. One head down, one head up, one looking around, the other in between. Then Te Kanawa peeled out those glorious high notes of O Mio Babbino Caro. All four heads jolted up, eyes looked straight at me, ears twitched straining to hear this heart rending sound.

Mesmerized. The deer stood like statues, listening. They seemed to be as moved by the music as I am. When the aria ended the doe turned and leapt like a ballet dancer from the yard. Her fawn following her lead in dutiful obedience like the echoes of the music itself.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Respect of Title

Equality has long been a strong belief. As a result I cannot imagine calling anyone “Lord” or “Lady” anything. I’m determined to reject the idea of separate classes in society. I left titles behind in my young adulthood with a casual way of talking to anyone and everyone. But living in the south I’m beginning to feel a little differently on my harsh outlines about stated behavior.

I read an article by Denise R. Kaye is Sunday’s New & Observer titled ‘Respect: Please we are not on a first name basis.’ I newly agree with her. I have been greatly impressed by the good manners of the youth that I’ve encountered here in North Carolina. By youth I mean from four years up through the teens and even into the twenty-somethings. I’ve also experienced moments of embarrassment when I’ve called someone by their first name after just being introduced. Especially a person who I think is older than I am. (Just when I think there aren’t any.) I have no idea where that moment of feeling came from. In Jersey I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But here I do. It seems right and fitting.

Today I see Mr., Ms. and Miss as titles of respect not as a mark of difference in class.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Fall Meditation

From guest writer, Jyoti Wind
www.starshine-galaxy.com
www.writes-of-passage.blogspot.com

Go into nature…a backyard, a park, the beach. If you can, put your back up against a tree or sit next to a bush; lay your heart on the earth at the beach or in a garden or meadow. Give to the earth and trees the energy that churns inside of you, either too much or too stuck.

Just let it flow out. The earth will grow flowers with it.
Then receive the earth’s energies, through the trees or the earth herself,
Breathe long and deep, in and out…giving, receiving. Let it heal you.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Changes

Inspired by a newsletter note from Jyoti Wind, I thought about her words on change. Life does knock us unexpectedly sometimes. While we may be dreading the future in one area, a tragedy happens in another. What we do and how we do it comes from deep within us. Often we don’t even know we had such strength but it’s there in all of us. We just have to dig for it.

Sharing our thoughts and feelings do help to heal those deep wounds that life tosses at us. It’s the flow between friends that keep the wound clean so a heavy scab doesn’t settle from that anguish, just a light mark left to keep a memory alive to draw on when we need it.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Women of World War II

What I really wanted to write about two days ago is the book I just finished reading, A Life of Secrets: Vera Atkins and the Missing Agents of WWII by Sarah Helm. It’s this story that moved me into thinking about women and our place in the world. The changes for women from the 1940s has been remarkable but weren’t brought about by gentlemen patting us on the head and calling us ‘little ladies.’

A book that can raise my ire, to get me stomping around the house in a rage is a book well-written and factual. It isn’t only that the women (radio operators) dropped behind enemy lines into France during that war were beaten, tortured, of course raped-violent men always rape-and tossed into gas ovens. That was certainly terrible but it was a fate suffered by men also and the women did volunteer for the duty.

After the war was finally ended the men in power wanted to keep the bravery of these women, some in their early 20s, secret. “Brush it under the rug and hide it,” they said. “Don’t let anyone know that we used women.” After all, the women who were allowed into military service uniforms were not allowed to actually carry weapons. Yuck. And the radio operators weren’t military. They were civilians.

Like a detective Vera Atkins traced each girl that she recruited from her department who did not return home after the war. She found out what happened to each one, how they died and where they died. She fought for honors and medals for them when the men of the military didn’t want to even acknowledge their existence. Regardless of who or what Ms. Atkins was, she did the right thing by these women. This all happened in England but that patronizing attitude was universal.

We have come a long way.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Jane Austen Calendar

Usually I buy two beautiful-quality- works-of-art-calendars each year online from Pomegranate. They hang side-by-side because I’m always working with various dates. My favorite for a few years now is The Reading Woman depicting various paintings by many different artists. I Love that whole series of calendars and boxed note cards so every year I look for them. Yesterday I was in Barnes & Noble. Since they have always carried the Pomegranate line I headed for the calendar section. I also buy a couple calendars for birthday gifts. Ugh. Not very many calendars offered at all. I’m grossly disappointed because I thought of saving the cost of shipping.

As I was walking away, the corner of my eye caught the words “Jane Austen.” My heart started pumping in excitement. I have looked each year wondering why no one has ever produced a good quality Jane Austen calendar. I mean she has been the hottest thing going, again, for at least fifteen years! Her name is everywhere. The only calendar I’ve ever seen was a puny offering from the Jane Austen Centre in Bath. That one has an exploded dollar amount, or pound really, exchanged into dollars.

My mind raced. Perhaps it will feature Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, Emma Thompson and Hugh Grant or Amanda Root or …………..Egads! The calendar is Jane Austen and the Zombies! That's enough to make me scream!!!!!!!!!

Monday, September 20, 2010

Women of the Western World

In the decades since I came to the adult age (sometimes if feels like 200 years ago and others only two) women have made tremendous strides in taking a rightful place in the leadership and formation of our futures. Since the Dalai Lama stated last summer during his Peace Summit in Vancouver that western women are chosen to save the world I’ve begun to think about how far we have come. It hasn’t been easy for many of us.

Many of those that have taken the dais to balance out the power men have always assumed, are aiming at peace, nurturing, and using the heart as well as the head as guidelines. This is not to say that the world should turn to mush but that intelligence, respect, honesty, and that inner wisdom are utilized in connecting to other cultures and leaderships.

War, aggression, and atomic weapons have not won any country peace for their citizens. Perhaps this is the time for the birth of the Divine Feminine. Think of it. Art, poetry, music, beauty, and learning instead of violence, bombs, the boom of fighter jets and destruction.

What a world we could live in.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Painting the Past

I stand at my easel with brush in hand
facing a blank canvas, ready for the image to emerge.
Today I’ll re-create a scene or castle
or perhaps a medieval doorway I’ve discovered.
Scenes from the past, echoes of another time.

Stories resting quietly just below
the surface, waiting to be told with the brilliant
colors of oil. Or written out,
a painting of written words. Words to accompany
the oils as notes on a page to the musician.

My tale will rest on top of the stories
of men, builders with rock and stone and cast iron.
Monuments left behind to remind us
of triumphs and sorrows of those who loved, lived
and left behind their eternal imprint.

Impressions for me to research, to learn,
to seek, to know their stories are the same as mine.
Heavy, thick, large oaken doors
with black cast iron hardware closing with echoes
bellowing down the stone laden halls.

Announcing that I am here to uncover
the secrets of the past. Though I feel the deep-rooted
emotions vibrating into every room
I stand in ready to absorb. My promise is to enlighten
those that care, but I know…..

the only difference of then and now are the accessories.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Spanish/Portuguese Cod Chowder

Well, autumn is here whether the Weather Gods know it or not. Last week I bought some cod from Trader Joe’s (bless the originator of Trader Joe’s as often as I curse Sam Walton’s business practices) and have been anxious to make some good Spanish/Portuguese Cod Chowder. Today was the day.

I sautéed in olive oil (the gift from the Healthy Skin God) some thinly sliced onions, adding thinly sliced garlic, (please don’t burn) adding some cubed Golden Yukon potatoes, adding some good quality dry vermouth, adding a quart of fish stock (if you don’t make your own from shrimp peels and lobster claws and shells and of fish heads and bones, use water mixed with chicken broth—NOT CUBES) adding some fresh, if possible, or good canned tomatoes, adding a bay leaf, one or two whole cloves, parsley, tarragon, a bay leaf and marjoram. Simmer for approximately an hour.

Add chunks of cod (it’s a blessing of Trader Joe’s that I can get this here,) taste and add sea salt and dried hot pepper flakes to suit your self. Simmer for ten more minutes. While you are waiting with a glass of good, chilled white wine that will improve your taste buds, toast a slender slice of bread-I used a rosemary/olive oil bread-brushed with butter or olive oil. Lay this on top of the chowder after it is in your favorite soup bowl.

I don’t use measurements but I made enough-that’s a bowl full for me for at least two or three days because it is even better the next day or day after that. Adjust amounts to your own likings. Go wild! Be adventurous! Put your own personal imprint on it! Enjoy!

Friday, September 17, 2010

Cats

I know why there are so many books to choose from when looking for something to read on cats. I smile when I see Lady Jane stretched out under the cloth-covered center table in the entry room of my house. The folds of the burgundy damask add a graceful look to the room and Jane adds a feeling of home to it.

Chuckles cut loose from me when I see her white paw reaching out from under the guest room bed. She’s found a cool spot in summer and warm one in winter. Not to mention the peace of that room between visits of dear friends.

Laughter fills the room when Jane practically sits up for some treats. Whoever heard of a cat acting like a dog? But she loves food. And she talks now. Really!

Jane comes to me when her bowl is getting low on food. She wouldn’t do that two years ago. She would notify her sister and Lizzie would come after me demanding that I follow her to the bowl. And she would never come to me for stroking or to smell the food I’m about to eat as she always does now.

A few years ago the fur along the back ridge of her body became matted. I thought it was a part of her breed. She’s a big cat, rescued from the wilds of Bordentown, New Jersey. Well, the wilds being that her mom and dad were feral cats. But she is definitely part Manx. The Manx cats I researched on line looked just like Jane's back. My dog-grooming friend Laura suggested that she trim Jane of the matted fur. A new cat emerged! It changed her personality completely. So I brush her nearly every day and watch closely for any beginning of clumps forming.

It seems my pets must suffer from my mistakes just like my kids did. Fortunately they love me just like my kids do in spite of my imperfections.

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Nighttime on Lake Gaston

There is something special about riding in a boat on Lake Gaston at night-such as10:00 pm last night. The stars filled the sky just as the poets write about them. They were full of the same sparkle as the diamonds they are always compared to. Pam, Laura and I tried to pick out the different constellations. The Dippers were easy. Pam found the Hunter. Lily just cuddled up and watched/listened to us. I think she was tuckered out from all the earlier activity.

Lights from the houses lining the lake splashed light across the water in streaks. The outline of the trees created a darker than dark vision waiting for the artist to paint it. Not another boat parted the water, only us heading back home after a lovely gathering of friends. It was a magical moment to be tucked away and remembered again at a later date.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Reading Biographies

If you are reading biographies of writers it is so much better if you read their writings and vice versa. Reading the work pulls you in, reading the biography leads you to where the works originated and festered and came out on paper in the form of a story.

Since I’ve learned that, I’ve applied it to reading the biographies of artists. Now that I’m reading the biography of John Singer Sargent I’ve laid out five books that contain pictures of some of his paintings on the table next to where I sit. Unfortunately the same paintings are repeated in a couple of the books. It’s a pity they couldn’t have chosen others from the 3000 plus canvases he painted. I lay the books open to the pages where his paintings are featured. It makes a difference. As I read the background of how the painting came to be, I look at the pictures and it pulls everything together. It’s like getting to know someone inside out.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Americn Roots Musical Showcase

Last Saturday proved to be a new experience for me, sort of anyway. The Musical Showcase for the New Harmonies Traveling Exhibit rocked with music affirming the exhibit at the library. Emcee Sherman Johnson happily gathered people together, introduced the performers and kept the show moving like a brook sparkling along. First up were performers for the Haliwa-Saponi with the Native flute, then hand drums. My mind went immediately back to a few rock concerts I attended in my younger years. The Armory (gorgeous in its new look) vibrated with sound. It was exhilarating!
A pleasant softer sound of Colonial music performed a cappella by Dolores Clark brought the movie “The Songcatcher” to mind. Smiles and giggles broke out when she sang “I Wish I Were A Single Girl Again.”
Freida Egerton and many of her regulars represented the Ridgeway Opry House with some Country and Bluegrass. She played the dulcimer and gave a bit of history. Joe B Cutchins poured out the Blues with a smooth bounce to it. The natural progression of American music, which is what this is all about, led us to the Street Genie, Freddie Greene playing Jazz with his soul bleeding through his instruments.
Always enjoyable Steve Hyman sang some Rhythm & Blues. I remembered that he’s appearing at the upcoming Pawfest on May 16 at Magnolia Manor. We wound down with Gospel, actually wound up because the sound was an outburst for most of the groups but creamy when The Royal Jubilee Singers came on stage. These four gentlemen also sang a cappella, are all in their eighty’s and put me in mind of the Ink Spots and the Platters. They were just delightful. As were the Bullocks, Arnetta Yancey, the Ayscues and the Warrenton Echoes who ended the program with style and grace.
It was a grand day. We ran from 3 pm to 7:30. Folks were coming and going, sometimes fitting parts of the program into their pre-scheduled day. I watched Emily Shaw moving from place to place wherever she was needed just like she has done since she dropped into this project. She’s earned high commendations for all her efforts to be so successful.

Monday, May 03, 2010

New Harmonies, American Roots Music

Last Friday was docent training day for us New Harmonies’ volunteers at the library in Warrenton. Now I understand the high excitement Dr. Sue Loper and Emily Shaw have been showing. This is an impressive exhibit to explore as well as look at. Some musical instruments can be played, including a pair of spoons, (my step-father was great with spoons, playing them up and down my arm, on my head, etc.) an old time radio emits music as well as some buttons pushed bring forth music to reminisce. Headphones are also available for listening to the various music venues.

The roots of American music are represented by the various groups who brought music together with backgrounds from Native Americans, West African slaves and early European immigrants. The Blues, Gospel, Blue Grass, Country and Western lead us up to Rock ‘n Roll, Folk and Protest music. It’s all there and more for everyone to enjoy with no more effort than to walk in during library hours Monday through Saturday until the middle of June.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Ancestral Homes

One of the homes on the House Tour has been owned 144 years by the same family! Another was occupied by three different pharmacist’s families (two of them related) beginning prior to the War Between the States followed by a family who lived there for 50 years.

This is awesome to me since I’ve lived in seven different houses in my lifetime and knew none of my relatives older than my mother and father. Esteem for the large portraits hanging proudly on the walls of these historic homes is at the top of my list. Again, I have one photo of one grandmother and grandfather and two pictures of a great-grandmother. All are snapshot size. I long for more. I want history and lineage.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Walls Talk

Houses hold the imprint of families that lived in them for as long as they stand. And when they fall they probably take that imprint back into the ground with them. Sometimes I will get a message when I enter a home but rarely when surrounded by the crowds swarming into the houses with me on the Preservation Warren County, North Carolina House Tour this past Saturday.

I split up my tour and visited a few on Sunday when I seemed to miss the groups. As I sauntered from the ‘newer’ section of a few homes-meaning added on in the 1800s or even 1900s- into the original sections built in the 1700s a different feeling emanated from the rooms.

Walls talk. We only need to listen.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Down Garden Paths

A dear friend blessed me with about seventy books on art that stirred up a new excitement in me. It’s like stepping through a lovely arbor to a magical place full of beauty and wonder and witnessing the perseverance of artists who couldn’t breathe unless the scent of paint, turpentine and canvas was in the air.
It’s difficult to know which book to start absorbing. Somehow ‘Down Garden Paths’ by William H. Gerdts landed on top. So begins my education on American Impressionists and the impact exterior gardens made on artists. The French Impressionists have long been my favorites and I’ve read and watched (on DVDs) about their personal lives as well as their painting ones. One influences the other.
Now I find myself going from the book to the internet to search out Childe Hassam, John Singer Sargent and Celia Thaxter. The art of Winslow Homer wakens me. I knew only of his sea work. Philip Leslie Hale’s ‘The Crimson Rambler’ brings tender moments to my mind.
A thread appears linking me back to Bordentown. In Candace Wheeler’s group of creative geniuses pops up the names of the Century Gilders. This is the same Gilder family that lived on Crosswicks Street, the same family where each child was extremely talented in the arts, in writing and traveling including exploration.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Newly Retired

The other night I overheard a conversation while I was sitting in a restaurant. The woman had recently retired. She said rather forlornly, “I can’t get out of my nightgown in the morning.” I glanced across the aisle to see her dazed expression. Like a slap across the face to wake me up, it forced me to think of when I first sold my bookshop.

I was in the habit of working 5 ½ to 6 days a week. In December it was always seven days of ten-hours-a-day with only Christmas Day off. The day after was just as busy as the day before. No complaint. I loved it. And then I sold the business with plans to start a brand new adventure by moving out of state.

In the meantime I woke in the morning with no destination, no demands on my time, no need to be anywhere in particular. I woke in the morning without having to jump into the shower and rush to get ready. I was in shock without knowing it. All these great blocks of time were in front of me and I didn’t know how to respond to them. It was like being in the middle of a joyful festival then being plunked away and put into solitary.

O f course it passed. Soon memorable lunch dates, dinner parties and outings came before the frenzy of packing up, closing accounts, etc. but it was that shock of ‘dead time’ that I vividly remember.

Monday, March 01, 2010

Battle of the Waxhaws

This past weekend I attended a seminar in Lancaster, South Carolina on the debate of the Battle of the Waxhaws also known as Buford’s Defeat/Massacre/Battleground. A “massacre or not” was the question. That question raised passionate responses from opposing thoughts and beliefs at the conference. But the passion that resulted from this battle back during the Revolutionary War brought many Patriots off the fence and into uniform. It also tagged Lt.Col. Banastre Tarleton with the nickname ‘Bloody Ban’ that he carried the rest of his life.

Aside from all the information I learned, it was great to discuss the Revolutionary War with like-minded people at the Friday night Reception. It isn’t easy to find to folks discuss the eighteenth century on an everyday basis. I also came away with a packet jammed full of relevant reading/research material and, of course, a few more signed books to add to my constantly growing collection. I also drooled over the beautiful art work available for purchasing. Alas, sometimes one has to choose………. Many thanks to the folks at the Andrew Jackson State Park for this interesting day. I'll be returning to the area for some more exploring.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Cards

I love cards. Selecting the perfect card to send, reflecting my personality to the personality of the eventual receiver is a joy. Not every friend of mine would appreciate an Edward Gorey card. But a few of them get it……..the minute they see the image they’ll turn to the back and read the little comment that goes with it.

Some of my friends are lovers of art as I am. Still there are those that I’ll send a card from my box of Monet while others will receive a Van Gogh. Yet others will get a card from my assorted “Woman Reading” box with images from several different artists. The right picture to fit the occasion and the receiver. A-h-h-h.

As I finally tie up my 2009 Christmas cards with a pretty satin ribbon today, I look them over getting pleasure a second time from a card once dispatched. Most cards I can tell who sent it to me without even opening the card just by looking at the image and by knowing my friend well.

They are all treasures to be put away for a time then brought out later to enjoy again, like a love letter but one without the romance. They are reminders of one who lived at a certain time in a certain place in my life. A recorder of events as sure as the log of a ship or the facts of a biography.

Friday, February 05, 2010

Snowbound

It is the beauty of snow that stays with me. The soft snow bringing peace outside the window sent me into my library to pick the “Snow Falling on Silence” by Marina Raye CD off my shelf. Her music enhances the feminine voice of beauty in winter. Nature sounds float out from my computer penetrating my skin; settling inside where it is needed most.

Even though my experience of life is very different, I seek the book of John Greenleaf Whittier poetry on the shelf. I couldn’t possibly watch the snow filtering down from the white sky without thinking of Snowbound the poem learned in high school. It was truly learned so that it rises to the surface at times like this, so many years since I first read the poem.

Being snowbound is good for reading, thinking, cooking, and writing. Actually I even found time to clean out my closet in response to the message from the universe to be “letting go of stuff you no longer need…clothes, household items, attitudes and beliefs that no longer serve you.” I quote from Jyoti Wind’s Astro Update.
Paintings appear in front of my eyes when I drive through the forests into town for some real live people and talk after spending six days housebound. The forest shows up best when snow is on the ground. It is easier to see deep into the woods. The depth is revealed but the secrets remain her own.

Now that the roads are clear again I hear we are expecting another snowfall coming tonight. This time I’ll build a bigger snowman.

Friday, January 22, 2010

January Lists

It is January and instead of making resolutions, I make lists. First I carry and update my lists from 2009 to 2010 files. Always when I do that, I find new lists must be made. One of the new lists is the Books on CD that I’ve read, well, listened to anyway. I first started keeping a list of the books I’ve read in my book discussion groups back in 1999 when the group met in my shop. The books reviewed for my Register-News column have always been kept on a separate list. That’s good for looking back and checking so I don’t review the same ones.

But this year for the first time since I have bought my first computer in the early 90s I am making a list of all the email addresses in my phone book. I’m trimming my sails, cutting out that $11.99 monthly AOL bill that I pay to keep my same email address even though my telephone service is Embarq. I hate to do this. It’s almost a feeling of disloyalty running through my system. And what if someone from way back when wants to contact me and I no longer answer to their email? Will they know how to get in touch? What horrors will I have to face with this change of address? Is this a life-changing thing that I plan to do?

Decisions, decisions are heavy weights indeed.