More Literary Festival

Charles Price, author of “Nor the Battle to the Strong” was at the Festival. It was through his book signing at Quail Ridge in Raleigh that I learned about it. He wrote a wonderful novel on the Revolutionary War in the Carolinas. Add Gerald Carbone, author of “Nathanael Greene, A Biography of the American Revolution.” Add Dennis Conrad, Charles Baxley, John Buchanan, all with a hand in that period, and Suzanne Adair who writes fiction about women in the same war using factual information. I was fascinated by all their knowledge in a subject I can easily fall into and live in while I'm reading the book.

Peggy Poe Stern told stories of the mountains and fell into ghost stories and hauntings. I felt right at home. She’s a delightful storyteller. I could’ve spent days talking with her and days listening to Joanne Mauldon talk about Thomas Wolfe. Interesting stuff.

Gary Neil Carden had everyone laughing heartily with his stories about “Blow the Tannery Whistle.” His Scot grandmother, being thrifty with syllables, called him “Gar-neel!” He’s a North Carolina Public Television storyteller. It was a great way to spend a weekend!

Carolina Mountains Literary Festival

When like minds come together exciting conversations take place. I went to the Festival this past weekend in Burnsville, North Carolina. It’s a charming mountain town beautifully laid out. The large square in the center has a statue of namesake Otway Burns hero of the War of 1812-1814. Buildings important to the town line the outer rim of the square.

Saturday sessions with authors were complimented with live music in the town square. There’s plenty of lawn that folks could spread out a blanket or pop open a chair. BBQ dinners were offered, too. The music was loud enough to be heard but not so loud to be disruptive.

Some literary sessions were entertaining, some were panel discussions, some were talks by authors. Several different writers piqued my curiosity further. Naturally I had to browse the books available to buy in the Town Community Center, got them signed during the lunch or before-dinner break. I came home with a book bag full. Oh, well. At least they don’t add inches to my abundant waistline.

PC Troubles

Computer problems usually send me into a tailspin frenzy as soon as I encounter them. Mainly because I’m afraid I don’t know where to begin to know how to fix them or imagine having to spend an exorbitant amount of money. But not this time. This time I was ready for it.

My PC monitor has been overcast with the color pink for the last month. I thought I needed a new Video Card. When the screen finally went blank, instead of stressing out I headed for Norlina Computers. Alan checked my PC and told me right away that it was a loose connection or the monitor. He didn’t try to sell me anything I didn’t need or pursue unnecessary repairs. Ya gotta luv an honest repairman!

Sunday I bought a new wide-screen monitor. Something new-they’re all wide-screen now! Bet this one doesn’t last as long as my recent one!

Author Charles F. Price

I’d read only about one quarter of “Nor to the Battle Strong” before author appearance of Charles F. Price at Quail Ridge Book Store so I can’t do a book review yet. But I can tell you about his book signing. He wore a 1780-period-dark-red-patterned shirt that looked like cotton. He carried his Stetson hat in one hand and a writer’s briefcase in the other. His cropped short hair in the front is pulled into a long ponytail in the back. Just as many men of that period would appear. He looked the part. I recognized him immediately from the dust jacket photo on the book.

He’s a good storyteller verbally, as well as written, unafraid of laughing at himself. Tonight’s opening story was of a former appearance where he dressed all in black as fitted the period of his then book on the Civil War. He was very into the period by wearing tall black boots, black pants, vest, jacket and Stetson. As he began to read from his book, Hiwassee he realized he’d left his reading glasses in the car! A gal offered hers; so he wound up dressed as Civil War period with fancy cat’s-eye framed glasses.

About forty people attended. All seemed to enjoy it as much as I did.

Quail Ridge Book Signing

One of the first things I noticed after settling into my new home were the notices in the N & O newspaper for the Quail Ridge Bookstore Guest Author appearances. It took awhile but I finally made it!

On Wednesday I drove an hour and a half to this last independent new book store in Raleigh to see Charles F. Price, author of “Nor the Battle to the Strong.” Stopping at Whole Foods located a couple doors up from the bookstore was a delightful idea for a bowl of great Beef Cabbage Soup coupled with Jalapeno Cornbread.

Allowing myself time to browse before the author arrived, I found lots of books stocked by North Carolina authors covering all sorts of subjects. The schedule of events shows author appearances and book signings several times a week, some nights have more than one writer featured. They do a fine job of promoting North Carolina writers!

“Nor the Battle to the Strong” brought me here because it’s about the Revolutionary War fought in the South. The points of view are from Rhode Island-born, Quaker-raised- General Nathaniel Greene and Scottish enlistee, run-a-way-indentured James Johnson. I’m just finishing up a manuscript that covers this same area but from the British point of view of Major Thomas Fraser of Bordentown fame. Naturally I just had-to-have this book and having it signed by the author is a bonus worth the trip to unfamiliar territory!
Check out their website at: www.quailridgebooks.com

CAP in Macon, North Carolina

I joined Citizens for Animal Protection in North Carolina (CAP) nearly two years ago. I’m the new kid on the block learning my way around but becoming Recording Secretary for the last year has brought me into a closer working relationship in the group.

One of their important projects is the spaying and neutering of dogs and cats.

Susan Blaylock is the dynamo behind this program. The suffering of these animals shows on her face when she talks about abused and neglected dogs and cats. Reducing the number of unwanted, stray, abandoned and abused animals roaming the forests, back roads and streets of Warren County is her goal.

Her program pays approximately half the cost of the operation. Expense/Income records are kept showing the number of both cats and dogs and the money spent including vaccination costs. All monies come from fund raising and donations.

Here’s the challenge. An anonymous donor has pledged $10,000 to this program if we can raise that same amount by December 31, 2008. You can be part of this admirable project. For more info: email Susan Blaylock at: susanandbobby@embarqmail.com

CAP is a 501(c)3 non-profit organization whose members are all volunteers. CAP Spay/neuter, P O Box 334, Macon NC 27551 is their address.

Ridgeway Opry House

Last Saturday night I took New Jersey guests Peg and John to the Ridgeway Opry House for an evening of country folks having fun playing and singing their favorite music. It’s a contest on who enjoys it more, the folks playing or the folks listening. Local and guest groups, and individuals, just pop in on any Saturday night for a bit of getting together like the days of old.

In days past the building was a general store built by descendants of the Germans who were invited to settle here after ‘the War’ in the early 1880s. Eventually it came to Frieda Bender Egerton wanting to keep ‘back porch’ music alive. She’s an accomplished singer, founding member of the Germantown Strings and along with Billy Jarrell plays the dulcimer. He also makes dulcimers and teaches music. Billy keeps the complicated microphone systems and lights operating right, too.

It was a good evenin’ listening and sometimes joining in with the singing. Freshly brewed coffee, soda and water are offered at 50 cents each. Homemade cookies, cakes and on this night blackberry cobbler are complimentary. A simply delightful evening for a $5 entry fee.

Heritage

The New York City chef-turned-writer-turned-TV personality of “No Reservations” Anthony Bordain traveled to Uruguay taking his brother Chris along with him. Anthony was, typically, in search of his passion-local foods. His brother Chris enjoyed eating foods he never tasted before but was really in search of their ancestors. Not in body form but records of their life there back in the mid 1800s.

While Chris has a passion for genealogy, Anthony could care less. Is it always this way in families? Being a passionate genealogist myself makes me totally amazed that neither one of my brothers could care a hoot about who came before us. They harbor no thirst for who descended their traits or physical attributes to them.

It’s even more curious to me because I never knew any of my grandparents. I barely knew my aunts and uncles. A couple I’d only met once. My father died young. No family stories trickled down except one or two from my mother’s childhood.
All these un-answered questions, mysteries and secrets tickle my investigative gene. I gotta know!

Roadside Wildflowers

Have any of you noticed the abundance of wildflowers on the roadsides of the Warren County (North Carolina) area? It’s so cheerful and uplifting to be driving down the road, all kinds of thoughts and lists going through my head, when all of a sudden a blast of color jumps out. Well, seemingly jumps out anyway.

There’s a particular stretch in the Ridgeway area that’s full of sunflowers right now. Earlier in the season it was full of bright yellow daffodils. Who could possibly be sad when looking at a mile of daffodils just hanging out by the road waiting to bring a smile to your face. I know a gentleman plants this piece of ground every year just because.

I see patches of white, morning glory-looking flowers laying close to the ground in many areas. I’ve no idea what they are. They just appeared one day about two weeks ago. I remember seeing them last year too. Just around this time.
All these wildflowers have given me an idea. Next year I’ll buy large bags of wildflower seeds and strew them along the road leading up to my house. Wouldn't it be great if a lot of people did that?

I don’t cut all the grass behind my house, leaving large areas to just be natural. Next year I’ll scatter wildflower seeds there, too. It’s going to be lovely.

Hardware Stores

Don’t you just love the old hardware stores? The ones where your shoes step onto creaky wood floors that announce construction with every step. You can find small drawers filled with different size screws and bins of various nails. You can fill a bag or buy just one. Even the aroma is so distinct in a hardware store.

I have three that stand out in my memory. The one on Liberty Street in Trenton was about five blocks from the home of my youth. It was built in a V. I remember my father taking me there when I was under five years old. We entered at the point and I’m sure he carried something in his hand that he needed to ask about and to replace. That was probably the beginning of my love of architecture. I made many trips there alone as I grew. Sometimes just to browse around and soak up the feeling of the place.

The second one is App’s Hardware on Farnsworth Avenue in Bordentown, New Jersey. I’d go in when Mel was still alive and explain to him what I needed for my old house. If he didn’t have it (and that was very unusual) he’d tell me where I could get it. That’s hometown service that you’ll never get in a box store. Later Neil followed Mel’s ways and searched through those little drawers or bins or somewhere in the back where he remembered seeing exactly what I needed. He’d also give me advice on how to fix or repair an item I was having trouble with, sometimes losing a sale.

The third is the hardware store on N. Main Street in Warrenton, North Carolina. They’ve got it all including help and advice. In the spring I just have to stop my car and go in as soon as I see the racks on the sidewalk filled with herb, vegetable and decorative plants. Of course as soon as I arrive home, I realize I’ve forgotten to buy what I went in there for.

Changing Names

Recently I was voted onto the Board of a volunteer group. The following month when the minutes were sent out via email my name came up as Arlene White. A great, deep laugh erupted from me immediately. It seems to be an inherited curse on the women of my heritage.

My mother’s name was Anna May Philkill Daniels Bice Riggi. Her father was adopted. When he found out his real name he changed it and hers too. This took place after my mother carried his adopted name for five years. Bice was her first husband’s (my father’s) name. She remarried about ten years after my father died. Riggi was her second husband’s name

My great-grandmother carried the Daniels, Krieser, Hardy and Philkill names. Whew! That’s the result of a lot of genealogy! The mystery continues. . . . . .her mother was a Bell, a Daniels and died a Martin.
I've changed my name three times, carrying the name of the man (usually called a husband) in my life. So I’ve received mail in the name of Bice, Morrison, Brady and Falvo. And back to Bice again. When I finally took my maiden name back it felt like putting on a pair of old comfortable shoes. That’s it, I swear! I’ll never change my name again. Fortunately I bore all sons, never a daughter to be concerned about what name she will carry.

Silence

I attended an all-day writers’ workshop in Chapel Hill recently. When we broke for lunch workshop presenter Debra Moffitt planned that we each eat in silence. She stated that most Americans are uneasy in silence. Their houses are filled with music, TV or other sounds that float in the background. It’s true. Most of us are unused to the quiet. Until I moved to North Carolina to write full-time, I usually had music playing in the background, maybe softly but it was there while I worked. I sold music CDs in my bookshop so I always featured a CD, varying the type of music to appeal to different tastes.

Silence filled my house for my first year in the south. It fed my creativity allowing my mind to really think without distracting noises. I live rurally surrounded by forest. Trees are a great filter of noise. I don’t live near an airport or large city so when on rare occasions an airplane flies over I notice it. It took me back to my childhood when we stopped to point out a plane spotted in the sky. Unusual in those days.

So I delighted in taking my lunch and finding a shady spot under a tree in the forest that circles the library. A couple of folks couldn’t do it. They sat on a bench outside and chatted away. Oh, she also told us that reading at lunch doesn’t count. That’s mind noise.

Book Anger

Have you ever picked up a book to read yet it made you so angry that you couldn’t read it? That’s how it was recently when I tried to read ‘Under the Banner of Heaven’ by Jon Krakauer. It was the book discussion group selection.

Twice I started from the beginning, becoming so incensed at the abuse of women and children in our country, in the area of Utah and Arizona by the Fundamentalists of Latter Day Saints. This abuse of women and children is largely overlooked while our brilliant political leaders stamp out the abuse of women in the Middle East. Figure that one out.

Twice I had to put the book down so I didn’t explode with anger. The story is an insight of Mormon Fundamentalists. Our government sends four million dollars per year to Colorado City public school district, which, according to the Phoenix New Times “is operated primarily for the financial benefit of the FLDS Church and for the personal enrichment of FLDS school district leaders.”
I finally read the author’s remarks at the end of the book, finding it very interesting that he set out to write quite different story. Then I read a chapter in the middle of the book. Crazy way to read a book, but sometimes it’s whatever works. I never did finish all of it.

Haunted Bordentown, New Jersey

Now that I can think again after those awful Shingles have receded, I’m engaged for book signing events at the Old Book Shop of Bordentown on the Friday evening of 28th March and the Saturday afternoon of the 29th at the Bordentown Library on E. Union Street. Bordentown, New Jersey of course.

The new Haunted Bordentown book is exciting with new stories of recent and distant happenings in and around town. There’s a great story with pictures involving the original Clara Barton schoolhouse. This was a 'happening' on the Bordentown Historic Rout of December in 2006. An experience that includes two people.

Another story tells you different experiences of varied members in the same family. Yet again do those that pass over leave their skills behind for the next occupant of a house? Do we have spirits around us all the time, yet only some can see them? Sometimes the spirits show up in photographs.
Other happenings will tingle your toes and give you a new way of looking at an old town.

Shingles

It’s amazing how experiencing an illness gives me a new understanding of the pain and suffering others go through. I just never give thought to stuff like that, but my recent bout of Shingles on my face has done just that. My excruciating pain was short-lived, the earaches, toothaches (where I have no teeth) and headaches lasted for three weeks. I still can’t touch the top of my head without feeling near-screaming pain. Who knew?

It all began with what I thought was a sinus headache/earache/toothache. As soon as I used Nasacort Nasal Spray the right side of my face swelled, distorted and broke out in a rash! I assumed it was a reaction to the Nasacort. It wasn’t. It took an exam by an Ear, Nose & Throat doctor to detect the real problem. I was ten days in getting to her. All the time not knowing what creepy thing was attacking me. Awful. I don’t recommend it to anyone.

Hooray! The new ‘Haunted Bordentown’ book is on its way! Schiffer Publishing tells me it should be in the bookstores by the end of February. The Old Bookshop of Bordentown on Farnsworth Avenue has their order in and probably will be the first shop to have it stocked. It looks great, has 160 pages, photos and true ghost stories for you to enjoy. It’s been a long three years getting it together, writing, taping interviews, writing, taking photos, writing, making telephone calls, writing and re-writing.

Plans are in the works for book-signings at the Bordentown Library and Old Bookshop of Bordentown on Farnsworth Avenue. We're aiming for March. I’ll keep you posted when the dates are set in concrete. This is so exciting. I hope you enjoy reading the book as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Deer Head

While I was buzzing down a back road five days before Christmas heading for Littleton, I saw an object on the road surface ahead of me. I swerved around it glancing over to check it out. It was the head of a deer! It appeared to have a small rack but I was driving too fast to know for certain. No body was to be seen, no bones either.

I immediately thought of The Godfather by Mario Puzo and the scene where movie producer Jack Woltz refuses a request of Don Corleone. The next morning he wakes up to find his prize $600,000 thoroughbred racehorse’s head lying next to him on his bed. Ugh! Shivers ran down my back. (That scene and Alfred Hitchcock’s shower scene are imbedded in many minds forever!)

I’ve heard of some creeps killing a deer and taking the head or the rack for a trophy, wasting the rest instead of using it for food. I’ve never heard of taking the body and leaving the head. Does anyone have any idea why someone would do this?

Christmas Dinner

Setting the table in holiday dinner mood, I selected a ruby-red damask tablecloth, lacy white napkins, the good flatware and fine wine glasses. We’re conserving water in respect to the drought North Carolina has been experiencing this year. Our rosemary Christmas tree adorned the center. The rosemary spices the air with its aroma. No candlelight this year. Brother Al is on oxygen. Christmas carols played softly in the background to enhance conversation, not over power it.

I opened the DuBoeuf Beaujolais Nuveau before dinner to drink with appetizers (little fingers of anchovies in a potato and flour dough.) The bouquet was rich and fruity, more full-bodied than the one we opened in Nov. It was perfect before dinner. To drink with the standing rib roast I opened a Torre Spina Valpolicella again it was just right.

In memory of Charles Dickens, et.al. I made Yorkshire Pudding for the first time, ever. It was quite different than I expected. Not something I would eat more than once a year-it’s made from the fat of the roast. It finishes like a puffy bread crust. Tasty. In memory of good health I made fresh spinach cooked with pine nuts, raisins, garlic and olive oil. In memory of all my good friends, we toasted to their health, wealth and happiness.

Wife Needed

When reading a book I sometimes get more out of it than I expected. I’m referring to ‘The Red Rose Girls’ An Uncommon Story of Art and Love by Alice A. Carter. I was reading intensely when I found the answer to my biggest problem in life. I’ve always been the wife instead of having one. Darn it!

It quotes an article from Lippincott’s Monthly Magazine “The chief obstacle to a woman’s success is that she can never have a wife. Just reflect what a wife does for an artist: Darns his stockings, (this is an old magazine) keeps his house, writes his letters, Visits his benefits, Wards off intruders, etc. Always an encouraging and partial critic, etc. A husband would be quite useless. He would never do any of these disagreeable things.”

Bread Crumbs

As I learn about a person and they of me, usually bit-by-bit over a period of time, it’s determined whether we will become casual friends, life-long friends or just acquaintances.

I find it’s the same in the place I live. It’s important to learn about today’s every day life. Soon to follow is researching and learning the history of where I live. What happened in earlier times, how the folks responded to events, often forms the character of the people living here now.

The histories of Warren County and the rest of North Carolina are impressive from the first settlers, to those that carried on with bravery, willingness to contribute and the intelligence to learn new ways as became necessary.

It makes a difference knowing the character of my neighbors and the folks in the community where I socialize, volunteer and make friends. Hopefully, life-long friends. Now that I’ve lived here for two years I feel my instinct led me here like the breadcrumbs of Hansel and Gretel leading them home. Fortunately for me, no birds swooped down to eat the crumbs and I found the right place to settle.

Christmas Cards

I love sending and receiving Christmas cards! I search early in the season to find just the right cards that reflect my personality. Size is not important. I want the receivers to say to themselves, “Ah, this is just like her.” Or “Only Arlene would send this card.” I want a smile from them even if I can’t see it.

I start by loading up the CD player with some favorite Christmas songs, filling the wineglass half-full so I can have seconds without feeling piggy and to soften the mood so the sentiments will flow easily.

Next I think about what I want to say. Writing a personal note takes time. Some notes are longer than others but they’re all meaningful. The more often I fill the glass, the longer the note.
Now that I don’t see many of my friends from New Jersey often, the card is a connective thread saying, “even though we’re not in close proximity I still think of you and still consider you my friend.” As I write I think of them and the memories we’ve enjoyed together. Good memories should not be forgotten just because of physical distance. Hmm. Actually memories become more important then.

Warren County, North Carolina Ghosts

When something is meant to be, it can just drop in front of you like a squirrel dropping an acorn from a tree. That’s what happened in Oakley Hall Antique Shop in Warrenton, North Carolina a few months ago.

I was talking to owner Don Arnold; he was asking, “Are you retired or what do you do?”
“Not retired, I’m still writing. My latest book “Haunted Bordentown’ is being published by Schiffer.”
“Gee, I wish someone would write about the ghosts of Warren County.”

Another manuscript was born in that moment. Since that conversation I’ve interviewed several folks about their experiences with the ‘after-life’ population. One story has cast a thread that leads me to another………. and another.
If you live in Warren County or have brought a ghost story or a psychic experience with you, email me and we’ll record it to educate others about life-after-life.

Latest News from England

An article in the New York Times by D.T. Max reports Lord Redesdale whose family has been in England since 1049 is taking up arms against the American Gray squirrels. The Grays are taking over the United Kingdom and replacing their Red squirrels! How odd that sounds. Somehow when I think of the Brits trying to take over our country in the 1700s, I see them as all wearing red uniforms. I never realized the squirrels sport the same color coats.

Our squirrels were brought over to England in the 19th century as an oddity, a plaything to be kept in cages. But when the aristocracy became bored and tired of their latest toy, they let them loose. Now the Grays are outnumbering the British Red squirrels. The Brits are trying to preserve their own species.

The Reds are considered well-behaved, never making a nuisance of themselves or misbehaving like the ‘you-know-who’ obnoxious squirrels do. Sounds like their common opinion of our citizens, too.

Just the Two of Us

This morning I woke up singing. Where does that come from? I’d no music playing in the house last night. And the song, "Just the Two of Us" was from the ‘70s, a few phrases just running around in my head. Who sent this song to me and planted it there to play and re-play until I can find something to crowd it out of my mind? I’ll never know for sure.

My son Guy Arlen’s birth day is today. He would have been 45 years old. Hmmmm. I wonder if he sent me that song. I was talking about him yesterday to a woman whose son also passed away in his 20s. It would be just like Guy to send me a song for his birthday.

Synchronicity continues

A month or so ago I regaled in the synchronicity of a lost dog twelve miles away and the thread of people and events that led him back to his grateful owners. I had no idea, even after the dog was returned, where he belonged. I needed to know only that he was home safe and sound and everybody was happy again. End of story? Not really.

I got to talking with a couple I’ve never met before at the Lake Gaston Estates Association Hors d’ourves Social Night last week. As our conversation began flowing and became more animated I mentioned sitting at the beach early in the morning to write in my journal.

“Oh, my gosh! You’re the woman who wrote our telephone number on her shirt.”

I had to laugh ‘cause I knew immediately what she was talking about. The synchronicity that led the lost dog home, led the dog’s owners to me, too. In a moment we became fast friends when this unseen thread brought us together. As we continued talking we found other similarities in our lives also.

But that’s another story.

Golf Links

There’s nothing like stepping into a new situation and learning a new job that leads to seeing what others always saw and I didn’t. I recently started working at the Golf Links here in Lake Gaston. It took one ride in a golf cart over the hills, down the valleys, through the forests, and around the pond to have this golf course slip under my skin and open my mind.

My artist eyes feasted on the pale green of the ‘greens’ surrounded by a darker velvety green collar and another green flowing down the fairway with a different green of the rough. All this is framed by the many greens of the trees. The Carolina blue sky seems to compliment and complete the painting. Ireland’s patchwork quilt landscape came immediately to mind.

I’ve driven passed many golf courses over the years and just thought them boring. Ho hum. Where’s the excitement? Now I know. It’s here at the Golf Links.

A Note to My New Jersey Friends

Be not afraid that I am lonely in a strange land. Some of you, dear friends, were concerned when I first left the cozy, comfortable nest of Bordentown to settle as a recluse among the forests of North Carolina seeking the solitude of a writer’s life. No more delicate teas, convivial breakfasts at the Park Street Café. No more discussion lunches with my intelligent, interesting friends. No more wine-soaked dinners on the deck of Marcello’s or inside any of the wonderful Bordentown restaurants where we recorded the memories we hold so close to our hearts.

A few of you feared for my in-activity. What would I do with all that empty time?
Relax, I’m back working part-time, this past week I’ve put in 60+ hours. I’ve been meeting wonderful people, great discussions with folks just stopping by to chat, riding golf carts like a Texan surveying his 10,000 acre ranch and enjoying myself tremendously on the job. A customer even brought me half of a pound cake (that’s not a ½ pound cake.) Sound familiar? It’s my old life in a new place. Hmmmmm. I wonder if anyone will bring me real Irish Soda Bread in March?

Fish 'n Stuff

Journaling 7:30 in the morning while sitting on a picnic table at the beach is a lovely, peaceful way to begin the day. After a healthy walk the day seems to awaken slowly with grace. The fastest thing happening is the sun rising quickly this time of year. At least it seems too quick.

The water is still quiet without the wake of boats but I do see ‘nips’ in the water ending with circles of water moving gently. ‘The fish nibbling at the bugs in the air, appetizers’ I tell myself. But a week or so ago I saw a fish leap out of the water exposing half his body. It was a big body!

I’ve seen photos of this on covers of fishing magazines but I never thought I’d see this live! It must have been a special day ‘cause ten minutes later I found myself watching a sort of square-ish-shaped head moving around near the shoreline. I stared trying to decipher what it could be. ‘A snake’ I thought, ‘now that the rip-rap is in place.’ Later I realized it must have been a turtle with only his head showing. He was having a fun time swimming around before the crowd got there. I knew exactly how he felt.

Snow Day

While going through some files I came across a diary entry for the 6th of December 2003. If feels good just to read this in the 98-degree weather we’ve been having. It’s also a different world from my life today. Here goes :
I am fully awake at 6:30 am. Lady Jane lays at the top of my bed and Mz Lizzie is on the opposite corner. They wait patiently for me to stretch and rise. It’s been snowing now for 24 hours. Everything is covered with white including sky. Lying here, I’m thinking ‘why did I give my snow shovel to Bill Brady?’ Because it was beat up, that’s why. And I intended to buy a new one this year at the same time that I bought the sidewalk melt. But winter came on seemingly overnight. I should have parked my car in Sola & Elsie’s garage. But I didn’t even think of that yesterday, either.
Totally remodeling and moving the books into one shop has taken its toll on me. I am exhausted most of the time. I’m carrying books or finding room for stuff that hasn’t been sold on ebay yet. Today is my Holiday Open House so I’d better get up and get moving.
Lady Jane and Mz Lizzie dance around waiting for me to descend the stairs to select something good for their breakfast. When they peer out of the windows, their eyes open even wider than usual. ‘Just what is going on?’ seems to be their thoughts. They look from the outside white, to me and back again. Laughing, I tell them about snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before Christmas and we’re promised more!
By 7:30 I’m at the Farnsworth Deli. One can always rely on them being open in any kind of weather. Kinda’ grumbling, I stock up on the stuff for the Open House that I should have bought yesterday. But yesterday was my numb day. So here I am now trudging through ten inches of snow with a heavy sack over my shoulder. The air and snow isn’t really so bad though.
The Post Office is devoid of other ebayers. I am the only one here this morning. I mail another Christmas present to a lucky winner of my ebay auction. I have one less item to find room for in the bookshop. I’m rather enjoying this winter by the time I reach home.
Murat is in the shop before I even have the pot of chocolate hot. He’s been around town taking photographs. He insists that I step outside for a photo shoot. His natural joy in everything is refreshing. Not at all surprising is the number of people that have been in my shop by 11 am. On the first day of snow, everyone likes to cocoon, the second day it’s considered cabin fever. Cars are left parked where they were and everyone gets out to trek. As it quiets down a little, writing Christmas Cards seem like a good idea.

How it Works

If you know me at all, you’re used to hearing (probably tired of it) me talk about synchronicity. Today after my morning walk, I sat on the picnic table at the beach to journal. I was lost in thought in this peaceful time when I heard, “Miss, Miss.”

Anyone calling me ‘miss’ deserves my attention.

I looked around to see two folks, car door open seeking to ask a question. White slavers never entered my mind. One look and they would know it was a losing proposition-for them. An anxious looking woman continued, “have you seen a medium-sized black dog with a red collar? She’s very friendly. Dixie is her name. We’re down here in the Estates on vacation when a thunderbolt from the storm the other day startled her and the grandkids kinda let her get out.”

She took a much-needed deep breath. I could see she was upset. By this time I was up next to their car, leaving my journal back on the table with my water bottle. It wasn’t the black dog chasing me the other day. That was plain right away. We spoke a few minutes more. I then wrote her telephone number down on my shirt. (Good memory, but very short.)

Three hours later while I’m up to my elbows in canning tomato sauce, Laura calls me to ask if I can help a friend who found a black dog hanging around her house in the Estates for the last few days. “Red collar?” I burst out. “I have the owners’ telephone number right here.”

I think she stuttered before saying, “really?”

Synchronicity strikes again, just like Batman used to do! Or was that Wonder Woman?

Walking and Dogs

I walk early in the morning around 6:30ish, while it’s still cool and the sun isn’t blinding. I start at the beach, walk for about 45 minutes then spend time sitting atop a picnic table on the beach journaling. It’s a wonderful good-to-be-alive experience.

That is until yesterday, when three dogs, a collared white with black markings, a white with brown markings and a fully black puppy came charging up the road toward me. They were barking and angry deafening the quiet peacefulness of daybreak. Only forest, no houses were nearby so they weren’t defending any personal territory. I stopped dead in my tracks breathed deeply and waited until they got about ten feet from me. They stopped but stayed in their aggressive stance. That’s when I turned, very slowly, aware of my heart pounding but still moving very slow, I started walking back in the direction I came.

Two of them followed me. They stopped barking but continued to follow me up to the entrance to the park/beach area before they retreated to look for another victim.

Whew! It takes the joy out of walking.

Picnic on Water

Picnics and I go back a long way. Joy was a company picnic my bachelor uncle took my brother and me to each summer. It was always in some farmer’s field where we had plenty of room to run, a pond to swim in and an outhouse to use as a facility. Huge pots for corn and commercial sized grills were put to good use. These were big picnics where fifty cars filled the lot.

Then there were the family/friends picnics at the lake when it would take at least five or six cars to carry us all. We were like a procession leaving early in the morning and arriving home late at night.

My stepfather, mother, brother and I carried picnic baskets to the Jersey shore where we swam in the ocean. Mom had to call me over and over again to get me out of the water. I loved the ocean in those days. It was clean and considered healing.

Two of my sons were born in the summer so I hosted picnics for birthday parties. Lots of kids descended on our backyard to swim, eat and sing Happy Birthday.

A new picnic experience was added to my list the other night. To celebrate Laura’s birthday and Pam’s surgery recovery Macon, Lynn and I carried picnic goodies out to the pontoon boat. When we all climbed aboard, Lily did a ‘Kate Winslet on the Titanic’ stance. Lily’s a poodle and the leader of the pack.

Picnicking at sunset on the water with great friends is an awesome experience. Better than therapy or maybe it is therapy.

Ridgeway Cantaloupes

I just returned from my second Cantaloupe Festival in Ridgeway North Carolina. This year I worked as volunteer for the Warren County Arts Council seeking new memberships. It’s definitely more fun for me to work at an event than just to visit. Somehow I seem to see more.

The event started off with a prayer and a gal singing the “Star-Spangled Banner.” All the chattering and giggling stopped throughout the fest grounds and a silence swelled up when she began to sing. It happened instantly. I don’t know how they knew at the far end of the field when she began, but the silence fell like a heavy curtain. Hearty applause followed and the happy chattering voices began again.

Heading for the ladies’ room I made an abrupt stop to check out the pretty pink 1950 Ferguson tractor. Life-size, working tractor. Neat. I love this combination of equality and femininity. Live music played off to the left under a grove of trees shading the many chairs and the stage. Over to the right a group was making handmade ice cream.

Huge pots of Brunswick Stew were bubbling up for lunch inside the air-conditioned building. A bowl of stew, slice of bread and sweet tea was $3.00. Delicious, as all the other foods and drinks offered. I saw a booth with peanuts every which way you can think of; boiled, fried, roasted, etc. and cantaloupe smoothies cold enough to cool you down in the hot sun.

Quality crafts, arts and antiques were offered, as were free gifts from the Farm Bureau and the Warren County Economic Development. I added sliced cantaloupe ‘stress balls’ and a pink cap to the bag of goodies I bought. It was a delightful day in a country atmosphere.

Rory Block Concert

An exciting example of synchronicity happened recently while at a Warren County Arts Council Board meeting. We had less than two months to spend grant money and it had to fit the guidelines of using the grant money. What to do? What to do?

A first-time attendance by neighbor Tina Terry had the answer. She’s an agent for several singers/musicians. She came to the meeting because of an item I put in our Community Newsletter. A suggestion spoken, have a concert that appeals to the demographics of our county!

We all agreed, Tina came forth with Rory Block, an acoustic guitarist, singer of traditional country blues. Rory has been recording since 1965 and is respected as an interpreter of the late, legendary Robert Johnson’s music of the Deep South.

To expand the concert to an even greater level, the Straightway Ministries Choir, gospel singers, was invited to sing with her. Blues Meets Gospel will be performed on the grounds of Magnolia Manor just south of Warrenton. To make this thrilling Saturday night, June 16th even better, the $35 value concert is free to Warren County residents. A gift from their County Arts Council. Wow!

Of course the members of the Board have done a lot of work together to put this event together and to pull it off in such a short time.

But I just happened to put an item in the newsletter, Tina just happened to read it and just happened to attend a meeting for the first time and she just happened to be representing artists that fit our guidelines. The Board just happened to pick up on a great idea. That’s synchronicity.

Haliwa-Saponi Pow Wow

The 42nd Annual Pow Wow of the Haliwa-Saponi Native Americans was held this past weekend in near-by Hollister. Because of other commitments I couldn’t get there until Sunday. Next year they will be first on my list.

I stepped into an area of a people brilliant regaled for this gathering of tribal traditions. Their appearance was awesome with feather headdresses and intricately sewn silver, beads and feathers into their attire. With the drums constantly thumping it was easy, with a little imagination, to place myself back to an earlier time. The feel of a serious gathering of tribes permeated the afternoon. No commercialism here, thankfully.
Some Apache and Lakota Sioux joined in the competition of dance and drumming for prizes up to $15,000. Several booths surrounded the outlying area of the Blessed Circle, which was lined with bleachers for folks soaking in the background and education of the tribal dances and singing. The booths offered fine crafts of silver, leather and other traditional Native items. One fellow had statues and totems of wood detailed and full of originality. It was a pleasure just to look, like being in an outdoor museum.

Rabies Shots Day

Another volunteer event for CAP went by smoothly and successfully. I was delightedly surprised that all volunteers signed up, showed up. One fellow was already in line when I arrived at 7:45. The event wasn’t scheduled to begin until 9! He was a cheerful fellow though, and jumped right in to help set up tables, chairs etc. By 8:30 there must have been ten cars lined up and the line kept growing.

Several of us took clipboard in hand to fill in the register forms, walking to each individual so no one had to leave their cars. As one gentle gal headed for a truck she heard “Shut up, Judy!” Her head jerked up and her eyes popped wide. No one ever talked to her that way! The fellow must have seen the expression on her face. “Sorry, that’s my dog’s name.” He was a bit sheepish.

Of course there is always one; one car stopped and wouldn’t start. Help came and jumped her battery. She didn’t lose her place in line, though. Her two pets got their rabies shots without extra waiting.
After a satisfying morning of working in the sun with a parade of dogs and cats, all with their own personalities, the volunteers met at the Hardware Café for a late lunch. This is where bonding of volunteers takes place-at breaking bread together after a busy day’s work. The rabies shots were free but many people gladly made donations. Dr. Amy O’Malley attended 203 animals.

The Hills are Alive

The hills are alive, not with the sound of music but with the beautiful wild pink and white dogwood trees and dark pink umbrella trees. The green of the fir trees create a backdrop like a heavy velvet stage curtain for little girls in pastel tutus.

It’s spring and the forests of North Carolina are gorgeous. The roadways are lined with tiny little light blue and white wildflowers. Wisteria runs along fences and up trees. The daffodils are still blooming after a few weeks. The forsythias are shouting, “It’s Spring! It’s Spring!” Just in case someone didn’t notice.

Green is everywhere. Great expanses of lawns look lush and thick waiting to be walked on with bare feet. The farmers’ fields are growing high with green (rye?) slightly swaying in the breeze. The Bradford Pear trees were all white a week ago, now they’re as green as the beer of an Irishman on St. Paddy’s Day.

It’s glorious!

My Girls

So it’s the next day after Jane’s haircut. She’s adapting. She’s come out of hiding, still quiet but at least out from under the bed. Lizzie tried to tease her a bit last night. Lizzie got a hiss from Jane. First time I ever heard a hiss from Jane, Lizzie yes, Jane never.

I did some cooing and gooing, mimicking Laura’s tone and manner. It’s working. Jane’s feeling much better this morning. She’s at her post at the front door watching and listening to the birds, including some big black crows, squirrels and rabbits.

My education in Cat has begun. I hit the PC last night seeking others with more knowledge than I on the matting of cat fur. And dandruff. Is that dandruff on her back?
Is my girl lacking in some vitamin or something? Should she stay embarrassed, like on the TV commercials? Oh my! Dandruff! Will she be shunned socially? At lease dandruff won’t show on her shirt-she doesn’t wear one.

I still haven’t found out how or why but I did learn about grooming and combing.
Something new.

Lady Jane

Poor Lady Jane is embarrassed and hiding. The fur along her spine has been matted for some time now. It looked clumped along the ridge of her back. Joe G. noticed it when he visited and mentioned it. She’s a Manx. I thought it was supposed to be like that. Duh.

Apparently not. Thanks to Laura Thompson of ‘Pride and Groom’ I’m starting my new education on cat grooming. A little late in coming but you know the old saying. She buzzed her clippers easy and gently, little by little, talking to Jane softly. Keeping her as calm as possible. Her caring and concern flowed out with each purring word she used to Jane. A pinch-full at a time, the clumps of hair came off leaving a stripe along Jane’s back. She sat perfectly still, not moving or jerking away at all. Amazing.
She’s embarrassed. I’m embarrassed. Guess I should have known it wasn’t natural. I don’t know about cats, I raised kids. Come to think of it, I used to buzz cut their hair.

Fires 'n Stuff

About ten minutes after I arrived home from Warrenton yesterday, my neighbor Darlene called. “Y’all burning leaves over there today?” “No, why?” (Silly me) “Well ya better look out your front door, your lots on fire.”

I did and it wasn’t quite my lot, but surely looked it from her viewpoint and it could be soon enough if I didn’t stop it from coming over here.

I turned off the stove where I was preparing dinner and het on out the back door. Spring is here but I haven’t hooked up garden hoses or anything yet. This was a good time to do it. While I was trying to untangle the extra hoses, the DISH people showed up to untangle our new receiver because the first one didn’t work. Carmen went into the house and her husband graciously helped me with the hose. That fire was HOT!

Neighbor Darlene called 911, I was trying to put the fire out closest to the house. (Brother is on full time oxygen) He doesn’t even know what is going on outside cause he’s fixing his TV programs.

With most of the fire out, Reggie and his partner of the North Carolina Forest Service showed up from south of Warrenton, near Louisburg! Cavalry to the rescue! Yea! Macon Rural Fire Company followed shortly afterward. Their big powerful hoses squelched the fire quickly, soaking the area so it wouldn’t start up again after they left. They also had control further down the lot where my hoses wouldn’t reach.

Whew! Nice guys. Modern day heroes.

Bride of the Wind

The “Bride of the Wind” is a movie of Alma Mahler Gropius Werfel (nee Schindler) that I enjoy watching over and again. Each time I see it, I see something I haven’t noticed before. To me, that’s a sign of a good movie.

Based on the true story set in Victorian Vienna of Alma, the inspiration of great artists of music, architecture, fine art and literature of her time before she became a famous composer. I first claimed the movie because it featured a favorite artist Gustav Klimpt. Then I became enraptured with her story.

Jonathan Pryce plays the role of her first husband, the famous Viennese composer Gustav Mahler. The ruggedly handsome Vincent Perez plays the role of Oskar Kokaschka, painter of “Bride of the Wind” with his usual intense presence. Seeing him in this movie lead me to buying the DVD “Swept from the Sea.”
This is a real peek into the privileged and artistic life at the turn of the century in Europe. It has beautiful views of the country and the old city.

Swept from the Sea

Last night I watched the haunting movie “Swept From the Sea” made from the 30-page story “Amy Foster” written by Polish-Ukrainian Joseph Conrad depicting life in the late 1800s. Yanko leaves his village in the Ukraine and takes a ship to America but the ship crashes on the rugged coast of Cornwall, England.

At first he is taken for a wild man when he is washed up from the sea, ragged, starving and not speaking a familiar language. The quiet, outcast Amy Foster brings him a hunk of bread and washes his face when the farmer locks him up. Her tenderness touches and calms him.

The story follows their progress, his in learning to speak English, hers in learning to trust and to love. The expressions Vincent Perez emotes shows the torment and frustration Conrad must have experienced when he went to England as a young man not knowing a word of English before he arrived.

The movie spotlights the sea as Conrad has written about it in his many novels and how he must have experienced it in his many sea journeys. Perez brings his own touch of the smoldering gruffness that he brought to his role of Oskar in “Bride of the Wind.”

Parting at Pino's

Pete and Tom planned to leave on Monday but I insisted they wait until after lunch so I could take them to the Watersview Restaurant on Lake Gaston. The food is exceptionally good and waterfront dining is always special. I wanted P & T to carry away this mental picture of their last moment in NC, for this visit anyway.

Alas! Some things are not to be. We entered the open, welcoming front door to find workmen roaming around the place. Renovations are being made and the restaurant won’t be open again until March 2.

The gracious owner reminded us that the Lakeside is not open on Mondays but Pino’s in nearby Gasburg VA is. My disappointment led to a new experience.

The interior of Pino’s is much larger than it appears from the outside with a small “no smoking” room off to the left. Even though it wasn’t crowded we chose the small room. Al was hooked up to his mobile oxygen tank looking like he carries a six-gun with a long barrel in a modern-day holster. Our waitperson greeted us happily and with a distinctive accent.

The first words spoken, “where ya from?” revealing her Jersey City roots gave us an instant connection. (Al kept wanting to call her Penny Marshall) It continued to get better with our wine served. Our salad orders went like this: Jersey girl: “Oil & vinegar?” Pete: “What dressings do you have?” Jersey girl: “Oil & vinegar.” Tom: “Balsamic vinegar?” Jersey girl: “No.” Pete & Tom: “Oil & vinegar.”

We were all happy with our dinners. Eggplant Parm, (my measure of a good Italian restaurant,) Chicken Parm, Lasagna and a Combination Special for Pete were served with garlic bread, too. Our appetites were sated and their parting memory a good one.

On their next trip down, Pete & Tom promised to bring her some fresh mozzarella and NY bagels.

Pete & Tom

My dear friends, Pete & Tom left a snowy, bitter cold New Jersey behind to come down to sunny Macon NC for the weekend. This was a perfect ending to a very hectic-if-it-can-go-wrong-it will (and it did) week. A great reunion of eating, drinking and catching up on what’s happening in our lives filled Saturday to the brim.

On Sunday, roaming around the Art Museum of North Carolina, delighting in the varied styles of art, we came upon something different. Across the wide expanse I spotted a huge face of Mona Lisa, hanging upside down. Curious, we sauntered over to check it out at close range. Devorah Sperber created “After Mona Lisa 2” out of 5,000 (+ or – please don’t rely on my numbers) spools of brilliantly colored thread. Looking through the glass globe situated in front of the artwork, the creation looked upright. It’s worth the trip to Raleigh just to see this piece. Remarkable.

Also remarkable is the lunch we ravished while listening to the grand piano playing in the background at the Blue Ridge Restaurant in the lower level. My goat cheese & rosemary tart served with a divine salad was presented on a large, white plate shaped like an artist’s palette, complete with a hole for the thumb. Neat.

Tom did a lot of ummmms devouring his burger with Roquefort cheese ‘n fries and Pete didn’t talk at all until his special plate of mole chicken (?) salad embellished with spicy deviled eggs.
We were a happy, stuffed threesome when we left.

Three Texas Women

Mimi Swartz wrote an item for the New York Times on February 3 of this year called “Lone Starlets” about three tall, in history, Texas women, Molly Ivins, Ann Richards and Nellie Connally. Since early February of this year all three have now passed over hopefully to an easier place for them to reside.

Reading Molly’s columns always gave me a “give ‘em hell” feeling toward our political leaders that came up with some asinine programs for us lesser folks to live by. She minced no words on her thoughts and feelings and had quite a readership following to prove that many people agreed with her.

Ann was another woman to fight back with straightforward but folksy words, whether it was her personal battle of smoking, drinking, divorcing or the penny-pinching politicos trying to keep the bluecollar workers from improving their lot with education.

Nellie had an entirely different battle station to wage her war. As the wife of John Connally and first lady of Texas, her place is assured in history. Moments before JFK was assassinated she assured him of the love Texas held for him.

I wonder where Maureen Dowd was born?

Tir Na NOg Restaurant

To celebrate the end of the week with the joy of now having DSL up and running, my two burned out surge protectors replaced with better ones (and understanding this electrical system here, thanks to wonderful, patient Halifax staff) and brother Al on the mend, we made the trip to Raleigh for shopping and lunch.

Since I’m not really a shopper, as soon as we arrived within breathing distance of Raleigh, I talked Al out of going into a busy mall. I picked up a few necessaries at Art’s Art-a-rama, the art supply store that can’t be considered a mall, and thanking the universe for the small things in life, we headed into the Market Place of Raleigh. It was lunchtime.

We cruised the area but found only two restaurants open for lunch on a Saturday. I opted for the Tir Na NOg on Blount Street, a favorite of mine. They have always delighted my out-of-state guests or me when I just dropped in to treat myself.

The menu is overflowing with tempting choices reminiscent of Ireland. It’s difficult to decide which to choose. Today was no exception. Al chose my favorite, Guinness Batter-dipped Atlantic Whitefish with fries, a fresh tartar sauce and a creamy, crunchy cole slaw. It wasn’t easy, but I opted for something different. Beef & Guinness Pie, topped with flaky, tender puff pastry, a slice of bread that brought my visit to Ireland-instantly-to-my-mind. Washing it down with Killian’s Red was another wise choice. We split a dessert of Fried Ice Cream.

The low stone walls on one side that separate the bar from the dining area, the authentic road signs and the murals all add to the charm expected from Irish hospitality. When you go be sure to look up in the foyer area.
If you can arrange it, go when the live music is featured. You can check on their schedules events and hours at: TNNIrishPub.com.

Classical Music

I’ve decided I want to learn about classical music. For the last couple of years, I’ve been slowly immersing myself into it. When I find a CD I like, I’ll listen and listen and listen to it until the musical sounds become familiar to me. Second nature. But I can’t identify one composer from another. That’s my present project. Learn one composer at a time.

This all rather evolved from reading about George Sand that included her long-term love affair with Chopin. Because I have read her writings, I wanted to know his music. It paints an entire picture that way. The person and their talent cannot be separated. To know one must be to know the other.

Franz Liszt was a friend to both Sand and Chopin. His father tried to warn him “Beware of women, stick to your music.” Alas he became the playboy of the day, night actually, flitting from one society belle to another. Whether they were married or not made no difference. Top society dame, excuse me, Countess Marie d’Agoult was a passionate affair that lasted a long time. They managed to have three children and a divorce, in disgrace, from her husband. Of course in time the passion between them turned to disgust.

Liszt begged Richard Wagner not to break up the marriage of Liszt’s daughter Cosima. Ah, in the heat of passion, who listens? Wagner was a prima dona to beat all prima donas. He refused to work for money demanding that his friends support him and his expensive habits. He managed to marry Cosima. She remained with him until his death. She never again spoke to her father until the day he also died. Fascinating
I think these were the rock stars of yesteryear. For years I thought classical music and all it entailed was boring. Boy was I a dummy.

Waiting for a Phone Call

One of the worst moments of time wasted is waiting for someone to call. It doesn’t make any difference whether the expected call will be with good news or bad news. It’s the waiting that is awful. It’s nearly impossible to concentrate on something else, or be productive while I’m waiting. That thought just keeps hanging in the back of my mind ‘don’t use the telephone in case the call is trying to come through.’ Of course, that’s the time when I need to use the phone. And I don’t make calls often, only when necessary. I chat with my friends in person or by email, rarely by telephone.

I can wait easily three hours or more to use the bathroom, but when I’m waiting for a phone call……..I gotta go, now. Five minutes later, I gotta go, again. What about a shower? The best way to have the telephone ring is to get into the shower, even better if I am shampooing, too. Another good way to get the telephone to ring is to sit down to a meal. A hot meal works best that way it can get cold while I’m answering the phone.

Even worse is when I’m waiting for that important call, the phone rings, I gulp the mouthful of food or wrap a towel around my soapy body, rush to answer it and it’s a local charity looking for a donation. Egads! No wonder I hate telephones!

The Dentist

Does anyone else still have the dread of going to the dentist? I do. I’m fine once I get there. But just the thought that I have to go there, today, unnerves me. There is no fear since the modern tools of dentistry are so refined that pain is obsolete. Maybe it’s having someone’s hand in my mouth. I don’t even like someone putting words in my mouth, let alone their hand. That’s just about the time he’ll ask you a question. I always wonder if the question is sincere, since it’s impossible to answer it. By the time you can answer, he is onto something else.

Waiters do the same thing. They seem to wait until you have a mouthful of food then ask, “Is everything alright? Can I get you anything else?”

Maybe it’s the way a dentist makes me feel like a child, insinuating my gums and teeth aren’t perfect because I haven’t been brushing properly, or only brushing six times a day instead of ten times.
Anyway, the only way to get over it, is to go to it. Get it over with, then wonder why I fussed so much about it.

Coco Chanel

Yesterday I finished reading the 337-page biography “Chanel, A Woman of Her Own” by Axel Madsen (which is a family name in another book I finished reading last night. How weird is that?) Usually I like a book to ‘settle’ on me after I finish reading it and before I write about it. This book bothers me.

Coco, her father’s affectionate name for her, spent her youth in an orphanage in France but never admitting it in her recollections. Her given name was Gabrielle. That was about all of her early years she would admit to, making up various stories to suit her fancy. Her one sister died young. The other as a young, unhappily married woman who Coco refused to send money to Canada to bring her back to France as she so desperately wanted. The two brothers received money from her, at her initiation, to stay in the background and not have it publicly known they were family. After World War II her nieces came to Paris to meet her, curious about this famous aunt of theirs, but she would not admit them to her home.

She married only her business “The House of Chanel” but consented her two great loves, the ones that truly touched her heart, were Boy Capel, killed in an auto accident and Bendor, the Duke of Westminster. Her numerous lovers included other royalty and the wealthy of the day.

She died a multi-millionaire, alone, without leaving a sou to any of her family. She left everything to her butler in a will. Mysteriously the will disappeared. The core of her fortune began and grew in France but she chose to be buried in Lausanne, Switzerland.

Her designs are still worn in good taste today.

Painting with Gal-Pals

Having friends of one’s own sex is important. Guys may bond in different ways but a lot of women gather for coffee conversations, quilting, book groups, and/or lunches. I find myself delightfully rich in the fact that I have gal-pals to paint with.

We’re not doing walls and ceilings (though who knows what the future may bring) we’re doing canvasses. And while we lay our paints out to create something beautiful to see, we solve the problems of the world. Wonderful expressions are released, verbally and visually. If only the world would listen, or a neighbor or an associate, or ……………. What a lovely place it would be. No antagonisms, no violence, no attacking others in trying to make ourselves look good.

Can you possibly view a Monet and feel anger? Maybe CEO Boardrooms should install easels.

August Albo

In thinking about the Strauss Waltz painting, I had to find the artist, which as I noted was August Albo. It surprised me how easily I found that information by just describing the painting. Then I had to go further and find out who this guy is, or was. Now that was a bit more difficult.

He was Estonian, lived from 1880s to 1960s, (unofficial) studied in the Russian Royal Academy, a recognized artist in Moscow, Switzerland, Spain and St. Petersburg with exhibitions in Paris and Berlin. He wound up in New York City. Never did he learn any English but people who commissioned him for portraits, etc. brought their own interpreters. All the background on Albo I found was from internet sites on forums, etc. I didn’t find his name listed on any formal lists of artists. He also painted under other names including Rod Palmer.

What surprised me further was that he did another well-known painting “Free as the Wind” that portrays a herd of wild stallions running before a brewing storm. Their tails and manes are flowing in the wind. Looking into the painting I could feel the wind on my face and the feeling of their freedom, galloping over the plain.
That painting hung in my living room at the same time the Waltz was in my dining room. I never realized the two paintings were by the same artist. Only that both appealed to me in a strong sense.

Strauss Waltz Painting

It just wasn’t a night for sleeping. After lying in bed with “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme” running through my head, the “Strauss Waltz” painting by August Albo popped into my head and the Strauss Waltz music replaced Simon & Garfunkle. I guess someone in the great beyond wanted me to remember him. I felt like getting out of bed and dancing around the room. Instead, I slipped out of bed, (not to disturb the girls curled up on either side of my legs,) plucked two chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen cake dish and turned the computer on.

“P S R & T” connected me to the days of when it was played on the radio everyday. That connected me to my dining room where my five-foot long, beautiful walnut classic Italian cabinet held the stereo and radio. Above it the “Strauss Waltz” print set the pace for the many dinner parties I gave in that room.

Remembering that painting makes my heart dance. Gaiety, the beauty of the crystal chandeliers reflecting in the huge mirrors, the pastel ball gowns of the women and formal tails of the men in the romantic period of the late 1800s, send their joy out to anyone who will peer into it. Just look at the painting, see the dancers floating; their images shining on the marble floor. You need little imagination to hear the resultant sounds of Johann Strauss Jr. conducting his orchestra. A lovely sound to carry me to sleep, perhaps to dream pleasant dreams of days long gone.

Songs & Memories

A song keeps going through my head as I try to go to sleep, normally an easy thing to do. But tonight for some reason “Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme” is running through my mind. I have no clue where it came from, I didn’t hear it at all today and I don’t remember seeing anything that would make me think of it. I can’t remember the last time I did hear it.

With the song, memories come of another time and other people that I haven’t seen in many years. Some I will never see again, it’s been that long ago that the song was popular and on everyone’s lips. But songs have a way, almost like photographs, that kick up a memory like an old movie running in the background. Haunting.
For those of an age, what was going on in your life, when Simon & Garfunkle were still partners, creating those wonderful songs, memories that just never leave you. Do you also remember the thoughtful and interesting cover art on the LP jackets? I can see it now, in subdued colors, a leather jacket, faces expressing their feelings. Songs and memories.

Raleigh First Friday

Last night Peggy and I met Lynn and Steve in Raleigh and went to the First Friday Art Space artist’s reception. Marvelous! Peggy introduced us to Warren County born-and-bred Dianne Rodwell. Her art space is full of results of her multi-talents in the art field.

I have been to the “Monet in Normandy” showing at the NC Art Museum. Dianne has been to Monet’s home and gardens in Giverny where he painted these wonderful works of art and on to Provence to Van Gogh’s home. While I didn’t have a stash of cash to spend on art works, I did invest in a couple of her post cards. I know just who is going to receive them.

I was impressed with the appearance of this City Market area at night. Balls of tiny white lights the size of soccer balls hung from the trees, molded designs in tiny white lights filled walkways so even if I were alone, I wouldn’t be afraid to walk through them. They also had some delightful ‘window murals,’ that is murals painted to look like windows.

We eventually made our way to the Tir Na Nog for a hearty dinner reminiscent of Ireland, live Irish music and even an Irish dancer or two. That’s a great restaurant if you’re Irish at heart or lineage. All the restaurants seemed to sport live music of one kind or another. An ample number of people came out for this spring-like night on Raleigh’s First Friday. I highly recommend it.

The Girls

The term “The Girls” as I refer to them, came easily after birthing four sons, having two brothers, raised in a neighborhood full of boys and marrying three guys. One at a time, that is, with a little leeway in between.

So when these two adorable rescued kittens were first placed in front of me like gift boxes to choose from, I took both. Sisters, even with different fathers, shouldn’t be separated. Plus I travel often so they are company for each other when I’m gone. They don’t appreciate that I planned that consideration for them. They sense my plans days before I even take my travel bag out of the closet. Their upturned faces show me the saddest of eyes tugging at my inner softness. It makes me not want to go anywhere and I have always loved to go, anywhere.

That’s also when they begin adhering to my ankles, in front of, rubbing the sides of and tangling in between. Sometimes I’m nearly tripping just trying to stand up. It seems as though invisible glue keeps them in place. I step, they step, I sit, they sit, I breathe, they breathe.

They are Lady Jane and Mz Lizzie. The Bennet sisters from Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice.” Jane was upgraded to a titled ‘Lady’ because she is; just like Jane in the story. Her personality and being born minutes earlier gives her the older sister air. She’s also shy and reserved, but can romp (like a rabbit) beside Lizzie when encouraged. She’s a Manx. Black and white, no tail.

Lizzie follows Elizabeth’s personality. She’s daring, impish, funny and cuddly. I can sometimes see an idea forming by a light popping up in her eyes. She’s full of life and energy. She can talk the ears off an elephant. She’s a calico born with a bent two-inch tail.

They are blessings in my life.

New Year Tradition

Traditions of cooking on New Year’s Day have changed quite a bit in some households since the fever of football has taken over. Nibbles and snacks hold appetites at bay until the real dinner is served. Foods that go a long way to feed a house full of people, or not, are a great idea.

Following in my mother’s teachings, I cook Pork and Sauerkraut with Potatoes for good luck in the coming year. It’s an old German custom handed down from her mother and grandmother. Of course they made their own sauerkraut from cabbage harvested in the fall.

Mom told me, “Sauerkraut in huge barrels lined the cellar. Grandmother would send me down with a pot to bring some up. I hated going downstairs but would eat handfuls of the kraut before I filled the pot. That was my reward for facing the fears of a dark, scary basement.”
I buy mine is a plastic bag.

Year's End 2006

A custom for many at the end of the year is to pause, think back over the last year and what best and worst has come from it. A few items I thought about are: books, not newly published but new to me. “Jane Austen, A Life” by Claire Tomalin published in 1997 and “Her Own Woman, The Life of Mary Wollstonecraft” by Diane Jacobs published in 2001 are two of the best books I read out of many excellent ones. Curiously they are about two women writers living in the same time period, the late 1700s and early 1800s but living very different lives. Both their lives were severely affected by the lack of fortunes left to care for them. Yet both have left an imprint, both are still being read about and their works republished two hundred years later.

Another book that thrilled me (that I could read and learn about them) was “Stealing Heaven, The Love Story of Heloise and Abelard” by Marion Meade published in 1979. Nine hundred years after the fact, the love this couple shared until they died, separated by the walls of convents and monasteries is still exciting in the printed form. How can I choose a ‘best’ book? Impossible.

Looking over the videos I acquired this year in the absence of having television channels I choose The Merchant of Venice starring Al Pacino, Jeremy Irons, Joseph Fiennes and Lynn Collins. This movie has it all, a great acting cast, great background music, great quality, colorful period clothing and scenes of a favorite city, Venice. Love, mystery, humor, history and the dialog of a poet. What more can there be?

I choose BBC’s “The Duchess of Duke Street” for the best series. This story has been around for a while, but I just found it by chance. Based on the true story of Edwardian Rosa Lewis who began as a servant and emerged into the owner-manager of the London society’s sought after private hotel, the Bentinck.

For the music category I have taken classical music into my sphere of listening. This came about by watching-Impromtu, Children of the Century and Chopin, Desire for Love-all videos of George Sand and Frederic Chopin and their mutual friend, Franz Liszt. After watching the movies I just had to know more about their music and I’m following up with books on their lives and other composers of classical music.
It’s been a good that will hopefully lead on to more good things in 2007.

Bizarre Happening

For the end of the year I report a bizarre happening to me. This is an extreme event that is hard to believe but true. I’m not an athletic person but have played baseball, football and soccer as a youth. I ran and walked for daily exercise for the past 15 years and now ride a stationary bike nearly everyday to keep up bone density, strength, etc.

Yesterday while sitting in a wing-backed chair reading a smallish size book, “A Mapmaker’s Dream” Meditations of Fra Mauro, Cartographer of the Court of Venice, by James Cowan I sprained my wrist! I was holding the book in my left hand, thumb on the inside, next three fingers on the outside and pinkie on the inside opposite page. Try it. Since the book is new and 7” X 5” I applied quick pressure to open the pages wider to read along the crease easier. Yipes! I pulled some kind of muscle or delicate vein or something that now gives me great pain at the slightest wrong movement. Bizarro!
Of course I wrapped it. Can you imagine trying to explain to a doctor how I sprained my wrist?

Remembering Names

Everyone seems to have their own little ways of remembering names. Some with thought association as in what the person looks like i.e. John Bull-think of an English Bulldog, Mary Kay-think pink, Alice Bird-think bluejay. This can be embarrassing if you slip and use the association word instead of the name. Oh well.

Others use the repeat technique. Repeat the person’s name over and over again as you’re shaking hands, of course it’s hard to listen to what is being said while you’re concentrating on your repeats. Also it’s difficult to do this when you’re meeting several people at once.

Another way is to really look at a person while you’re hearing their name. I like to use this technique. This makes it especially embarrassing that I recently, in my last blog, took two fine individuals and formed them into one. My apologies to June Gibbs and Judy Baker. My mind was too full of bathing puppies, associating you both with the joyful event.

New Puppy Wash

When June Gibbs invited me to the puppy wash at the new Animal Shelter, I heartily agreed to be there on Friday. The event is no longer a social gathering of animal lovers sharing an evening of volunteering, but it’s just as satisfying.

While waiting for a working crew to check in I played with the kittens. This gives them a chance to be out of their cages with the reassuring comfort of human touch. It gives me comfort, too. Sometimes I just get so busy with life. Stopping to play with a kitten or a puppy brings me right back to basic human needs. A connection.
The new facilities at the shelter are great to work in, organized, efficient. The puppies are as much fun as always, showing their different personalities early in their life. Some sit docile, letting us rub and scrub them, others are so full of energy they can’t sit still. They all love being towel dried getting ready to meet their adopted parents.

Florence Poets Society

The Florence Poets Society gave me another reason to give thanks this Thanksgiving Holiday. On Friday when I plucked open my mailbox a thick envelope lay there with their Massachusetts return address on the envelope. A question mark appeared in my mind as I walked to the house.

After tearing the envelope open, I read the brief note sticking out from a soft-covered book from co-director Carl Russo suggesting I see page 44. Wow! They published my “words & paper &” poem in the Silkworm 2006 annual review of the Florence Poets Society under the Poets of Distinction section. A complete but delightful surprise.

Bordentown Weekend

Heading back for a weekend to a place where I have planted deep roots was a replenishing of friendships and an awakening that change takes place while I’m gone. Breaking bread and drinking wine is still my favorite way to keep my friendships cemented. There is something ancient in sharing a table laden with food, drink, and the revealing of tales, like King Arthur and his Knights or the Pilgrims and the American Natives on Thanksgiving.

How could anyone do you wrong after the telling of stories across the table? Stories are meant to give the listener an insight to the teller. The reverse works just as well. Even though the sagas are for entertainment, true or no, the words will be remembered while the pimple on his nose will be long forgotten.

The first place to sup was breakfast at the Park Street Café, where everyone knows your name. And just in case they’ve forgotten, it’s written on your coffee mug. This warm spot has conversations bubbling over and hearty welcomes greeting you at the door. Discussions at my table are of a wide range and filled with laughter.

If you are ever feeling lonely, just stand on the sidewalk of Farnsworth Avenue in the business area. There is always someone passing by to say hello. In my case, Patti bumped into me and invited me to Oliver’s for lunch with Suzanne, Charlotte and Peggy. The new owners have kept the Oliver tradition of ‘food to tell your friends about’ and made additions with their own personal touch. Wonderful.

Friday night was a late dinner at the Wisdom Café with Pete, Tom and Anne. The next table over was two thirds of the Ellis family plus their friends. There are always good stories to be heard from them, to add to the tales at our own table. We all enjoyed our dinners immensely.

Saturday daytime was the Arcadia Authors’ Panel Discussion/book signing. The evening gathered us at the Blue Danube, owned by Margaret and Peter from Bordentown City. This is always my choice of restaurants to go to in Trenton. Stained glass windows are the exterior first clue to the coziness of the two rooms and bar interior with eastern European pottery, paintings and tapestries adorning the walls and shelving. Our server has been there as long as the owners, making her a welcome sight, too. We all enjoyed our dinners enhanced by pitchers of Sangria made earlier, especially for us.

Sunday loomed with the nagging thought that I was to leave my familiar friends and haunts. First, Prateeti was to join Anne and I for a lunch at the Sticky Wicket. It took us about a half hour to eat, but reluctant to part; we stayed for a full three hours.
I carried another round of wonderful memories back to North Carolina to be brought out on a gloomy day, a reminder of the good fortune in my life.

Animal Ark Grand Opening

The slight mist hanging over the Grand Opening of the Animal Ark in Warrenton, NC didn’t deter any of the high spirits wafting the air today, Thursday, November 2. Emcee Luke Lucas stressed that the building to house animals abandoned or in need of a home was completed under budget and three months before the original completion date. The ground breaking was exactly one year ago today. That’s a wonder in itself. He also mentioned that a value of over one hundred fifty thousand dollars was donated. Of course, we at CAP already knew that and we know how hard CAP members worked to obtain the donations.

Folks came from great distances, if only to learn how Warren County did this fine job. Dignitaries were in abundance. Politicians were name-dropping. Their own that is. Over and over speakers mentioned the determination of volunteer June Gibbs to get the job done and done right. She was definitely the star of the afternoon. Rightfully so. It was also mentioned that the Animal Ark is the finest in the entire state of North Carolina.
CAP President, Laura Thompson, brought her natural sense of humor to the podium by unleashing a long roll of paper, presumably with the names of all those who deserve thanks for their imput with this project. She spoke sincerely and brought a perfect end to the lovely Grand Opening of this beautiful, modern animal shelter.

New Mystery Series

A Killer Collection is the first in a new series of collectible mysteries by JB Stanley. Molly Appleby writes for a weekly newspaper for collectors. On assignment, she just happens to be present when a big-deal pottery buyer dies at a semi-annual kiln opening. Relying on her instinct, she senses something amiss.

As she interviews different potters for her paper, she learns (and we do, too) about how a clump of clay becomes a desired piece, highly collectible. She also comes across information that proves the obnoxious buyer didn’t die by accident or suicide.

A former owner of her own antique shop, her mother Clara, is now a partner in an antique auction house, freeing her up to roam around the countryside, attending the right events. She and Molly team up to solve the crime and the others that follow.

Stanley delightfully weaves, humor, personal interest and a collector’s knowledge all into a cozy mystery.

Arcadia Authors’ Day

Exciting news! The Burlington County Library of NJ is holding an Images of America, Arcadia Authors’ Day 2006 at the library on November 11 beginning at 10 a.m. running until 3 p.m. Three of us who have written multiple books for Arcadia will serve on a panel. We’ll be discussing the ins and outs of writing an Arcadia book about Burlington County towns or subjects relating to them. An additional eight Arcadia authors will be in attendance also. The sepia picture covers of Arcadia books have become a beacon for anyone looking for town history. When displayed at the bookstore, they seem to just pull you to them like Mom’s apple pie cooling on a windowsill.

Refreshments will be served and Arcadia books will be available for sale, signed by your favorite authors, of course.

I’ve attended author panel discussions at Book Festivals and enjoyed them very much. I’ve never been on one so I’m delighted to have this first experience. I think. I’ll tell you more about that after the day is over.

Burlington County Library is located at 5 Pioneer Blvd. Westhampton NJ 080260 tele. 609- 267-9660 email: genealogy@bcls.lib.nj.us www.bcls.lib.nj.us

Book Reviewers

I read book reviews. It’s one way to tell, from sitting at your kitchen table on a Sunday morning, whether a book is one you will enjoy reading. At least it is a first step, a hook to pull you in. Certainly one cannot always rely on someone else’s opinion about anything, especially fiction. In times past, a person has said to me, “Oh, this is a ‘must’ read. You’re gonna love it.” Well, I’ve taken that advice a few times and can’t say I always (actually, rarely) loved the book. Sometimes I was bored, sometimes the story was disappointing, and sometimes I disliked the writing style of the author.

Book reviews published in the newspaper or on the net can give you indications of the story subject, characters, plotlines, etc. Recently the reviewer told the complete plot, including which character gets killed by mistaken identity. Another told of a main character marrying and being unfaithful in the same sentence before we even got a chance to experience his falling in love. Do reviewers really have to reveal so much of the story? Why should I bother to buy a book when I already know what’s going to happen to everyone in the story. Half the fun of reading fiction is the unfolding of the story. Some novels depend on your curiosity and wanting to know what happens next.
Please let us enjoy the surprises the author planned for us.

Power Surge

Just when I thought all these little annoying PC problems had reached their peak, one more was piled on top. On a cool, sunny, perfect Wednesday afternoon, 10th September 2006 at 1:00 while I was chasing the shark (vacuum) around the house, I heard a distinctive POP! I had no idea what the girls (cats) were up to now but had no time to investigate. Company's coming so I had to finish my cleaning. Soon a terrible odor filtered out into the living room. An odor that couldn't be ignored. I adjusted my plan and followed it to the the source, my office.

My PC showed a blank screen that had been lit up just a brief few minutes ago. I crawled under the desk to check the outlet. Yep, you guessed it. A POWER SURGE! My surge protector was burnt out, blackened and stunk something awful! My printer was still on but the PC refused to light up. Oh, man! Everything else in the house seemed OK. Uh, oh. Not so. The TV was blown, but not the rabbit ears. Go figure that one. It always happens to the one that costs a lot more to replace.

A trip to Norlina Computer and Alan reassured me a 24-hour restoration of my PC for less than $100. Another $100 plus, for three new power surge protectors that Radio Shack swears really work. Is there no end? Could be worse, I keep telling myself. Guess I'll be reading more books than watching DVDs for awhile.

Easy Astrology Books

Astrology has always fascinated me. It is so accurate in revealing personalities born at certain times of the year and time of day. Your sun sign directs your life path and knowing this in advance can make your life easier. It can also help by diverting you away from individuals who do not interact well with your sign. ‘Tis a pity I didn’t have ‘Sun Signs’ by Linda Goodman published in 1968 when I was younger and could have benefited even more from it. This is a fun book, too, easy to read and nails down the personalities of people in your life.

A more recent book on astrology, published in 2006 in softcover, also easy to understand and very entertaining is ‘Houses’ A Contemporary Guide by Gwyneth Bryan of Bordentown, NJ. She begins with an explanation of house-based astrology, making it simpler for the novice. Coming to know your houses by your birth chart will help you to understand your self and many of the experiences you’ve managed to live through.

Even if you draw a total blank when looking at your astrological chart, you may enjoy reading how the case studies of birth charts that reveal the life paths of Bill Clinton, George W. Bush, Warren Beatty, Martha Stewart, Madonna and other well-known personalities. Saturn is among the planets in the Fourth House of Gloria Steinem. While she lived a troubled childhood caring for her severely depressed mother, a seed was also planted to help other women in stressful situations. Losing herself in books she eventually became a leader for women, guiding them through her leadership position in Ms magazine. Her chart is on page 14.

Just Google ‘free astrological chart’ to find a few locations online to print out your chart. Or read these two books first for pure enjoyment. Remember to read the Foreword and Introductions in both. Enjoy.

Learning New Stuff

Learning new things is good for us. It keeps our minds working, sharpening mental skills at all ages. New goals in learning keep our zest for living active. Learning something new enhances our overall sense of well-being. Except when it comes to learning new programs on the PC.

This new camera-to-computer is more than challenging; it’s maddening, frustrating and infuriating! The instructions that pop up on the monitor may seem to be written in English but they are as confusing as if they were written in Greek. I keep trying to tell the PC what I want it to do, the PC keeps telling me what it is going to do and that I lack something they need me to do. But I can’t figure out how to do what it wants me to do!

Eventually I’ll learn this process, too. Then I will realize that the new camera is a much better process than the old way. And easier. But getting there is another matter. In the meantime, enjoy.

Digital-Smigital

Happy that my computer has been just humming along, I decided it was time to learn all about how to operate the new camera I absolutely had to have, two months ago. It’s been sitting on my coffee table staring at me, daring me to try my hand at taking digital photos. This is a must for any ebayer.

My ‘old’ digital has been working for only five years. But it uses floppys and my new PC doesn’t. I keep thinking about the cameras of the past that I used for ten or twenty years and were still in fine working condition when I gave them away.

I took a few photos I needed for my pages in the 2007 IWWG Travel Journal that’s being put together via Marilyn Day to celebrate thirty years the Guild has been guiding women writers. Taking the photos was easy. I plugged the camera into my PC that sent a message to my printer. Terrible, unrecognizable black and white photos came out of my printer. Several times. I then scanned the photos that I wanted. Nothing happened there. Blank sheets came out.

My neighbor Lora printed out the color photos for me with her printer.

But that only solved the present problem. I investigated further and found out, via my PC, that my printer and scanner were not compatible with my new computer! This called for another trip to Raleigh to buy a new printer. What good is a writer without a printer?

This time I got lucky. I bought a new printer/scanner combination for less than a hundred dollars. $99 to be exact. I was ecstatic! Of course, then I had to buy a cable $35, back-up ink jets, $31 and of course the two-year service contract for $20. Seems that nothing is simple these days. Enjoy.

PC Indigestion

A short time ago we had a thunder and lightening storm here in Macon. We were taught to enjoy these summer storms and watched them from our dry, big front porch. The storms still fascinate me, though I unplug my telephone line and computer at the first sign of severe thunder.

So I couldn’t imagine what happened when I couldn’t get online Friday night or Saturday morning. Panic set in by Saturday night. Sunday was a day crossed between moping, raging and beating myself up mentally for not knowing more about the mechanisms of computers.

The telephone line buzzed so loudly that the operator couldn’t hear my complaints on Monday. When I called her on my reliable cell phone, she told me it was a computer problem. I called AOL, who said it was a software problem. I called Gateway who said it was ISP problem. I called Micro-soft who said I needed a new modem.

On Tuesday I bought a new modem, still no online service. On Wednesday,I received news that they now knew the telephone was an outside problem with the lines. they gave me promises to fix it,

On Thursday, in a panic that my children never saw, even in the worst of their growing up, I unplugged all those wires from the back of my computer. Wrapping my arms around it, clutching it tighter than the last bag of eggs, milk and bread before a snowstorm, I gently set it on the front seat of my car. Next I hooked up the seat belt-around the computer-almost forgetting to secure it around me.

I drove to Norlina Computers. Alan plugged it in to his get-up. He was online in seconds!

Not a thing wrong with my Big Information Machine at all!

I drove home unsure of the mood I should be in. I was happy that it wasn’t a technical problem, but I was annoyed that my telephone still wasn’t fixed. Still, there was that promise that it would be……….. Enjoy.

CAP Puppy Wash

Recently I experienced my first CAP puppy wash. I was a little apprehensive because two cats reign supreme in my house. Plus I haven’t had any real contact with dogs since my kids grew up a long time ago. Seventeen pups were listed to be washed, towel dried, nails trimmed and smelling ready to meet their new families. The puppies were tagged to go.

Since I was the new volunteer not knowing just what to do, I picked up the pups one at a time from the incoming pen, held them, petted them and generally calmed them before placing them into the bath. Two people that knew what they were doing took over.
I think that each pup was happy to have personal touch and soothing since most of these were abused or abandoned animals. Sometimes both. If holding these pups reassured them that someone cared, it put me back in touch with how loving a puppy can be. My heart went out to a particular few that looked into my eyes with expressions that made me want to take them home with me. Alas, they were spoken for.

I graduated from holding to towel drying. Ah. There’s something special about towel drying a dog, like towel drying a young child after a bath. An invisible bond forms that lingers in my thoughts after the dogs have been loaded up into the van, ready to leave North Carolina and I’m home playing with my cats. But I’m thinking of those pups tugging at my heart.

Southern Fried Women

I just finished reading a collection of stories in "Southern Fried Women' by IWWG writer Pamela King Cable. The struggles, triumphs and laughter other women have lived went straight to my heart, touching me deeply as I recognized we share some of the same joys and burdens but with different backgrounds. The time-gone-by settings are familiar to some, new to others, delightful to read for all. These are full bodied tales that leave you satisfied. A good read, find it at: www.pamelacable.com.

Tomato Pie

During our Warrenton Women Writers session last night, our assignment was to write about a decade of our life. This pertained to last month’s exercise of writing about a favorite house we lived in sometime in our life. I chose 1945 to 1955. Included in my piece was the Saturday night special for my brother and I. We were treated to a tomato pie and allowed to stay up to watch “Midwestern Hayride.”

Eyebrows shot up when I read my piece. Silly smiles on their faces asking “What’s a tomato pie?” They immediately told me of their instant imaginations of what it could be. Sliced tomatoes between two layers of pie crust? Hunks of tomatoes wrapped up in a pie crust? Ugh, was their first reaction.

We all laughed when I explained this earlier creation of pizza. It was a thin crust with crushed tomatoes on it rather than the tomato sauce used on pizza. I still remember Papa’s Tomato Pies on Chambers Street in the Italian section of Trenton called Chambersburg. Wonderful memories. Writing brings them all back again.

A Writing Retreat in the Company of Women VI

This past weekend is the third time I’ve been fortunate enough to attend the Writing Retreat in the Company of Women, the sixth annual event organized by Doris Larson held at Punderson Manor State Park in Newbury, Ohio. Doris is the author of the “Great Inn Getaways” and “Bed and Breakfasts Getaways’ both from Cleveland Ohio area. You can see her creations at http://www.innwriter.com/home.html.

Only this year Doris couldn’t be there as she began recuperating from an emergency hip operation. Marsha McGregor did a wonderful job filling in for her with the help of Celeste Billhartz. Sixty-two women came for the weekend. An additional 18 came for the day. This writing retreat is like the appetizer to the IWWG’s main course of a week-long writing conference at Skidmore College in Saratoga New York in June. It’s a cozy, friendly setting for writing. Very inspiring.

We wrote under the guidance of creative and skilled teachers of their own genres, Pat Carr, Judi Beach, Marilyn Zembo Day, Judith Prest, Deanna Adams, Sandra Gurvis and Judy Huge, teaching Write to Heal. I started each day learning a body/mind stretch with Yoga instructor Pam Frost. She put us in good shape to begin our writing day. Writing in the company of other women writing is encouraging and inspirational. Of course we had a lot of fun, too.

Doris and Marsha and a few of the other participants belong to an Ohio writing group that can be found at:
http://www.albanypoets.com/womanwords/womanwords_writing.html.

Virginia Festival of the Book

This past weekend presented a first experience for me, the 12th Annual Virginia Festival of the Book in Charlottesville, VA. Even though I checked out their website for the event, I was not prepared for the excitement of the full scheduled selections of each day and into night. Panels of authors in all genres were offered. There were too many to mention here. You can find all the information at: http://www.vabook.org/

My friend, poet Hilda Ward alerted me to this adventure months in advance, graciously inviting me to stay with her. Hilda introduced me to authors, poets, publishers, volunteers and the folks who produced this smoothly run happening. I am immensely grateful for her hospitality.

Sunday night as a closing for the Festival, David Baldacci hosted friends Barbara Kingsolver and John McCutcheon appearing on stage together for the first time. She read some of her deeply moving poetry in a bid for peace. John joined her with his music. It was a very fitting ending, calming the excitement with a plea to end this war.

I bought a tall stack of books at the Fest, but was still delighted to visit a couple of used books shops in the neighborhood.

Each Life is Worth the Telling

Last weekend I attended the International Women’s Writing Guild sponsored, “Each Life is Worth the Telling” workshop for Carolina women. The workshop was held at the Lincolnton Cultural Center in the charming town of the same name. Director Hannelore Hahn flew down from New York City to lead us in our writing, reading and telling. Excitement swirled in the air as this group of approximately twenty women met, most for the first time.

We all came from either North or South Carolina with different backgrounds and different stories but with the common bond of being women who write. By the time lunch was ready, a visitor would have thought we were old friends reuniting after a long period away. Everyone that wanted to read had the opportunity to be heard. Some brought material with them, we all wrote and read from our exercises of the day.

When it came time to call the workshop to a close, a reluctance filtered the room. Hugs, chatter, addresses exchanged, photos taken, all activities of the original group of strangers now parting as friends.

Many thanks go to Director Hannelore Hahn, Pamela Cable, Sue Hajec for their efforts of pulling together a great day and to Valerie King and Tina for their warm hospitality.

Crocus

The winter in the Macon area of NC cannot be compared to NJ winters. Heavy snow fell from the sky here on February 12, too. But none of it lay on top of the ground. A few days later I woke at 6:30 am to the landscape covered with two inches of snow. By ten o’clock in the morning there wasn’t a snowflake to be seen.

A few days later still, I took an hour to stroll around Warrenton absorbing the beautiful historic homes into my mind’s eye. I took time to sketch some of these lovely trees, naked without their leaves but showing the beauty of what lies underneath the leaves of spring, summer and autumn. Then I came upon a front yard with hundreds of lavender and white crocus in bloom. I stopped short, stunned. The flowers were wide open like tiny little mouths waiting to be fed. A breathtaking sight to be sure. And a reassuring one telling us nature is laying the groundwork for the spring soon coming to us.