Winter

Ah winter! The first snow is always the most welcome and the prettiest, don't you think? After Christmas with our children and family, we came back to five inches, accumulated while we were gone. Lovely! It made me think of two poems; one written by a friend of mine, Sara Bush, now deceased and one by me which speaks to going forward into the new year, always with hope, but also with some amount of uncertainty. My poem is called Footprints in the Snow

How peaceful to walk in the crusty snow
Deep in the woods at night
'White on white
My footprints go, making a path
To show where I have been

Suddenly
The moon peeks out
Between still, sleeping trees
And finds a spot
To shine its muted light
And to illuminate my uncertain steps

Everything is silent and quiet
No noise
Except for the lone owl
Hooting and hooting above me
To break the silence
And to let me know that I am not alone

My steps are fresh and tentative
In this woods so new to me
So much before me is unknown
My only measure
The footprints behind
To show where I have been.


The poem by my friend, Sara Bush is called Winter Garden

"Yes, we can have roses in December,"
someone has said (I can't remember who),
"Because God gave us memories,"
And it is true.
Kaleidoscopic pictures turn:
Behind closed eyelids, sunsets burn
of many summers gone
And tawny woods of autumns sped
still swirl the leaves inside my head,
Still make my eyes and nostrils sting
with perfume of burnt offerings.
The vernal fires of greening trees
ingnite the songs of chickadees,
And, lo! The robins and the cardinals come!
No longer, nature stricken dumb
in crystal caves of ice and snow
Indeed, the winter roses grow
In hearts like mine that are contrary
the monarchs fly in January!
And all bright loves and friendships shine
That once were ever yours and mine.

Wishing all my readers peace, illumination, quiet, companionship, adventure, footprints, and good memories to sustain you in 2010.

Read my first entry below "My love of reading etc." which goes with this picture. I seem not to be able at times to get it all connected. Darn!

My love of reading has always included young people's stories and for years I have been building a collection of children's literature and picture books. I have always loved how beautifully some of these books are illustrated, and this enters into the decision to purchase a book or not. Along with these treasures, I have a separate Christmas collection of children's books which I love, and enjoy reading over and over at the holiday season. I have three favorites. One is The Gift of the Magi by O'Henry which is one of the nicest love stories of all time, where a poor, newly married couple sell what is most precious to them to buy a Christmas present for the other. Another favorite I read each year is: Is There A Santa Claus; the answer to eight year old Virginia who writes a letter to the New York Sun newspaper asking them to tell her if there really is a Santa Claus after her Papa says, "If you see it in The Sun, it's so." Part of the answer The Sun gives is:
"Did you ever see Fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world." (Some people call this faith.)
My favorite Christmas book, however, is the one that my youngest daughter cherished the most growing up, and continues to read every Christmas. It is simply called The Christmas Story by Jay Frankston and is the story of a Jewish family who goes to the Post Office each Christmas; picks out the most "needy" wishes from letters to Santa; buys presents for these families, and then, on Christmas day; Dad dressed as Santa, delivers gifts to them with a joyful Ho-Ho-Ho. This was their answer to being part of the very Christian celebration all around them. I have always been glad that this particular story struck such a profound cord with my daughter. Early on, she appreciated that Christmas is about the joy of giving as much as receiving. Tis the season of giving and sharing with family, friends and yes, even strangers. God bless us all.

Christmas decorations are slowly getting put up this year after my husband and I have finally gotten over our nasty colds, or whatever seems to be going around the country these days. This is our little tree that sits in the corner of our dining room and cheers us up with its lovely white lights. The other picture (go to last entry, 2009 (64) to view) is an azalea plant I have been "nurturing" for several months, and I cannot believe how tall it has gotten. It is beginning to bloom, just in time for the Christmas season. I have been pouring over my Christmas cards, many that I made this year, and some that I have recycled. I cannot believe how much it is to send a card these days; 44 cents, but I cannot give up the tradition of connecting with the people who mean so much to me all year round, many who do not live near me, so yes, I will spend the 44 cents to let them know how much I love them, and how much they mean to my husband and myself. Cards, notes, and letter-writing is such a lost art, but it continues to be very meaningful to me, so I will resist as long as I can, just sending a one-liner via the Internet for special occasions. These have no meaning to me, as my guess is that they were giving about 30 seconds thought, and then on to the next busy activity. No wonder we live in a society of isolation. And, on this note, last Christmas I received in one of our Christmas cards, this lovely sentiment which I added to my card this year, and I think it demonstrates what I am trying to say here. As I wrote each card this year, I spent time thinking about that person, and what they mean to me. Here is the poem that is going into my cards this year.

We have a list of friends we know, all written in a file
We take it out at Christmas time and study it awhile
And this is when we realize those name are all a part
Not of the list they're written on, but names within our heart.

For each name stands for a place that we have been
And the joy of friendship is one we want to touch again
And it may appear fantastic for us to make this claim
But we really feel we are composed of each remembered name

You may not even be aware of any special link
But knowing you has shaped our lives much more than you can think
For once we came to love you, the years could not erase
The memory of our friendship that still is in its place

So never think our Christmas cards are just a mere routine
Of names upon a Christmas list....forgotten in between
For when we send a Christmas card that is addressed to you
It means you are upon the list of friends we're indebted to...

In part we are a total of the many friends we've met
And you are truly one of those we never will forget
If we've been friends forever, or just a day or two
In some way wonderful, you've been a part of shaping what we do.

Every year when Christmas comes, we realize anew
The biggest gift that life can give is having friends like you
We wish the Christmas spirit to be your forevermore
And the bells of Christmas morning bless you with a mighty roar.

GO TO 2009 (64) MOST RECENT ENTRY TO VIEW AZALEA PLANT

Well another Thanksgiving is behind us, and I for one, am thankful for that even though we had a wonderful time with our family. But now, I hope not to have to eat turkey (never a favorite) again for another year. And now, on to the Christmas season, if not yet begun in your house, certainly has begun in all the stores around the country. And this year is especially compelling; to get out there and get those bargains! This year, if you are paying full price for ANYTHING, it is too much. Sad for the economy, but equally sad for the true meaning of Christmas which I guess has been lost for some time now to the Almighty dollar. There are "pockets" of "holdouts" but this seems to be rare in this ever consumer driven culture we live in. Ah, bah humbug, I say as I sit wondering if I can muster the energy one more year to get out there and be a shopper. Last year, I made a list for myself to help me keep sane as I went from place to place looking for that perfect gift. It helped me to keep some of these things in mind.

1. Stay calm; don't run anyone over either on the road or in the stores.
2. Stay out of malls; they are hazardous to your health, and your wallet.
3. If you hear the same Christmas song on the radio or in a store that you have already heard, change the station or leave the store. On the other hand, if you find yourself singing along, knowing all the words, enjoy the moment.
4. Remember to have some fun, and good cheer every day, perhaps in the form of a good glass of wine.
5. Light candles somewhere in the house every day to remind yourself of the true meaning of Christmas...(the light of the world and all that.)
6. Don't feel guilty without a fresh cut tree to decorate. In our house, this caused the greatest amount of anxt with, which tree to choose; getting it into the stand (strait); putting lights on after hours of unraveling them; getting under the tree every few days to water, and finally dragging it out after Christmas leaving a trail of pine needles to clean up. Go for the store bought one that comes with lights already on it.
7. Don't give too much to the "grands," and spoil them; their parents are already doing that.
8. Smile at people as you go about your errands; remember this is a time of "good cheer," and you just might help someone make it one more day.
9. Give away far more than you get by way of helping those who have less than you do. This is the greatest gift to yourself you will ever give.
10. Take time to remember family Christmases gone by, remembering the people who make them so wonderful and who may now be gone.

THANKSGIVING

Thanksgiving time once again, and I am grateful for so many things in my life! For my art journal, I was thinking of things other than the "usual" list, and came up with things like:
sunshine
friends
good books
beauty and art
music
trees
flowers
cinnamon rolls
wisdom
peace
All these things contribute to, and enrich my life in so many wonderful ways; the cinnamon rolls contributing to making my world "larger." Years ago, a very good friend of mine wrote this poem that I continue to love, and read each Thanksgiving. I would like to share it. She wrote one every Thanksgiving, and this was her poem for 1998. She is now gone, but her poems and spirit live on in me.

THANKSGIVING, 1998
I fold my hands
I bow my head
Over my plate,
my daily bread
That God from whom
each blessing flows
Put there beneath my appreciative nose
And then I close my roving eyes
And thank Him for each day's
routine or rare surprise
I offer up a grateful prayer
For all His nurture, loving care
For family, and sharing friends
For helping me meet the
stretched-apart "ends."
For Church
and fellow pilgrims on the way
With whom to speak and think and pray
I thank Him for the shadows
and the colors
Of the tapestry of living;
Sight and sound, kaleidoscopic
reasons for Thanksgiving
But most of all, I thank Him
all other things apart
For the gift throughout my
lengthening life
Of a year 'round grateful heart.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!

I am enjoying creating an Art Joural, and this is one of my entries. I will post additonal ones soon. This is a very fun activity, and I am including some of my poetry, and some of my favorite sayings....Stay tuned. Also, I am doing book reviews for the Internet Art Joural at Escapeintolife.com I have just submitted my latest one; check it out under Writers, and then scroll down to my picture.

ART JOURNAL

Click on 2009 (60) in colume on left to see others

I am very excited about my new project: ART JOURNALING. A friend suggested that I try this as I love both writing and art. Here are some of my first attempts as I fill up my first Art Journal. I am using a lot of my poems, and finding art work to illustrate them. I also include some famous poems, and pithy thoughts. I am having lots of fun with it! Here are a few samples.

It has been too long since my last post; that is for sure. But, have you ever had the universe collide in your life, in such a way, that you did not see it coming; did not deserve it, and basically were blindsided and thrown under the bus without cause. Well, I believe this happens sometimes in life, and it happened to me several weeks ago. And, without going into details, I have had to spend an exasperating amount of time trying to unravel a difficult situation. So, my energy has been elsewhere, but hopefully this will be resolved this week, and I can, once again, go on with my life with the demonstrated integrity I have always had. Sometimes, other people in life, who know absolutly nothing about you, try to define you, and you find yourself having to defend yourself to people who do not have the honesty, integrity or professionalism that you have. And suddenly you are in a royal battle with "the know-nothings" and you don't even know how you got there, just that perhaps someone needed a scapegoat or someone to blame...and you were in their sights. Anyway, safice it to say that I am still sleeping at night, can hold my head high, and have had the courage to speak up and speak out about something that was and is clearly wrong. I know that anyone reading this may be curious for details, but I shall not be able to share them here. What I can share is a poem that my sister, Maureen Conlan wrote years ago about Courage which applied then and applies today. Thank you Maureen.

WOMAN OF COURAGE 4-5-92

You who have courage for others,
be courageous for your own life.
You who birth babies and bury parents,
have courage to embrace your own joy.
Look inside---
You are already courageous
Think of the times you were crushed by sadness
thought you could not live
And then rose to comfort others.
You who listen to your friends' most awful
secrets and love them no matter what
Find courage to love the dark cornors
of your own heart.
Think of the times you felt unloved, shamed,
humiliated; soul and body battered
And yet, got up the next morning,
Put one foot in front of the other
and marched into a new day.
I sing for your courage
It is nothing this poem can confer
You have it already; a legacy from
every moment of your life
And the lives of those before you
that has led to this one
Think of the courage it has taken to live
with your lonliness
Consider small acts of courage
when you were in physical pain and you went to work
or cooked dinner for your family.
Times you were so afraid you were sick to your stomach
and still you did what had to be done.
The simple courage
to live as a woman in this world.
Think of the heroic times....daring to battle
an angry god
What courage it has taken to unravel the early lies,
to speak the first secrets
trap them in a shoebox in a closet
And when they escape, as they do once in awhile
have courage to face them again and again and again.

I celebrate your courage.
Use it to rescue the radiance
at the center of your heart,
Waiting so patiently for you to shine forth.

One of my favorite web sites is: The Writers Almanac at newsletter@americanpublicmedia.org You can listen to Garrison Keillor read a poem each day, and also hear other pieces of literary news like what great literary writer and philosopher was the only person to decline the Nobel Prize in literature. (Check out the site to find the answer if interested!) Today, October 22, 2009, the author of the featured poem is Louis Jenkins who titles his poem, "The Speaker." I liked it so well that I would like to share it here on my BLOG.

The Speaker

The speaker points out that we don't really have much of a grasp of things, not only the big things, the important questions, but the small everyday things. How many steps up to your front door? What kind of tree grows in your backyard? What is the name of your district representative? What is your wife's shoe size? Can you tell me the color of your sweetheart's eyes? Do you remember where you parked the car? The evidence is overwhelming. Most of us never truly experience life. "We drift through life in a daydream, missing the true richness and joy life had to offer." When the speaker has finished we gather around to sing a few inspirational songs. You and I stand at the back of the group and hum along since we have forgotten most of the words.

Every year at this time, I cannot help but think of my best friend who is now gone. Over Halloween several years ago, I spent a week with Sara in the hospital as she went through a bone-morrow transplant. Her favorite holiday of the year was Halloween; this is one of the things I loved about her...she loved dressing up, being goofy, and laughing...often at herself. She made me laugh all the time. I love a phrase from John Updike that I lifted from one of his novels which says, "When an exhilarating personality dies, it is the live performance we remember, the unduplicated presence, the shimmer and sparkle, and poignance, perceived from however far back a seat in the audience." This is how I think about Sara, and am grateful that I had a front row seat in her life. I also like the quote by Jeanne Moreau on the death of his best friend, "It would be unbearable if memory didn't exist...I hear your laughter. I see you writing in your office, the smoke from your cigarette forcing you to blink. At will, I can spend hours with you." For me it is hearing Sara playing the piano, or the flute, or laughing. When we were at the hospital together, I wrote a poem about that time, and want to remember it here.

SCARY HALLOWEEN

Her stem cell transplant
Is on Halloween
An event she never expected
On her favorite day of the year

She dresses up anyway
As she does every year
In orange and black
With a mask
Not nearly as scary as the masks
Doctors are wearing
In the hospital

She laughs and jokes
With the nurses
To protect the frightened
Small child inside
And knits a lovely scarf
As her own harvested stem cells
Drip slowly into her veins
To give new life

She refuses to be sick
Until the end of the knitting row
Is finished
And then,
"I have to throw up,
But not until I finish this row," she says

And then she begins
The wrenching, heart-breaking sounds
Of heaving her insides up
And when she is spent
Goes on knitting to get the scarf
Done by Christmas
A scarf for her daughter

And then...
Life goes on
One minute at a time
Whether outside in sunshine
Or inside the gray walls
Of this city hospital
Sitting among
A community of patients
With sad, solemn faces
In the chemo room
Hot and stuffy
Life saving masks over their faces
And the human determination to live
The joy of Halloween
Lost on them

Here, hope is to be well by Thanksgiving
In order to give thanks
And to feel good enough for
Pumpkin Pie
And really....just not to die
Too soon, too early
Too much before their time

This is the second time
For my friend to do this
The last big effort
For life-saving energy
To pour through her veins
And take hold.

She knows what is ahead of her
And the thought makes her weak
With the memory
Of medicines that make you sick
Multi-colored ones
Like Halloween treats
And the energy that will
Drain from her body
Before the new cells begin to grow

This living hell
Even though tempory
Does not feel like temporty
It feels like a lifetime
Of misery
And it is hard to see
"the finished line."

But, she will go on
With the will to live
Second by second
Minute by minute
Hour by hour
Day by day
And week by week
Until it is done

And then
There will be new Halloweens
To celebrate
And to, once again
Dress up in costume
Not ever again
As scary as this Halloween.

Sara had several Halloweens to celebrate before her death, and I am grateful for that.

Have you ever spent the afternoon in a cemetery? This past Sunday afternoon, I did, and though it was unseasonable cold requiring hats, scarves and gloves, Mike and I took a journey into some of our richest historical past via the Evergreen Cemetery Discovery Walk. Every year for the last twenty-five years, experienced actors and actresses have dressed up in period costumes and throughout the cemetery, acted out snippets of living history. The program is called, "Voices of the Past" and this year featured Abraham Lincoln in honor of his 200th birthday. Rich, poor, famous and infamous are all buried here, and many grave sites held people who were once very closed to Abraham Lincoln.
Abraham Lincoln got started in his law practice here in Bloomington, Illinois at the age of about 21 and traveled the 8th Judicial circuit which took about two months to complete. During this time, he met some of his most lasting friends; many buried here in the Evergreen Cemetery. Featured in this Discovery Walk was David Davis, lawyer & friend responsible for getting Lincoln elected to the presidency, and his wife Sara, another political friend, Jesse Fell, two civil war soldiers (one white and one black), and wife of John Loomis, Abraham Lincoln's life-long friend. Twelve characters in all rounded out the Walk and included Abraham Lincoln himself telling about some of his friends buried here. Over and over again, Lincoln was depicted as a kind and gentle man and that reminded me of my own father who was a lawyer and spent much of his life trying to better the lives of the less fortunate. They would have liked each other. The Discovery Walk through the cemetery was an eye-opener for me. I had no idea I was living amidst such profound history.

TREES: BY JOYCE KILMER



I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon her bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.



I woke up this morning thinking about trees, and the poem by Joyce Kilmer came to mind. It is a poem that I learned in my High School English class many years ago, but apparently never forgot. The author Joyce Kilmer has always been synonymous with trees for me, I guess. And this is the time that I notice trees, more than any other time of the year. Today they are blowing about with signs of the coming winter and cold weather. Soon their leaves will change to all those awesome colors (why does that happen again?), and then their leaves will fall to the ground. There is a favorite book of mine by Leo Buscaglia called "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf...a story of Life for All Ages" and is an inspiring allegory illustrating the balance between life and death. Freddie the Leaf is one of the last leaves to fall from the tree he is on, and when he does, to quote, "Freddie landed on a clump of snow. It somehow felt soft and even warm. In this new position he was more comfortable than he had ever been. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. He did not know that Spring would follow Winter and that the snow would melt into water. He did not know that what appeared to be his useless dried self would join with the water and serve to make the tree stronger. Most of all, he did not know that there, asleep in the tree and the ground, were already plans for new leaves in the Spring." Having just had an intimate experience with death as I sat with my sister-in-law while she lay dying, this thought is comforting; that life goes on in some way, and that, even in death, we are part of life continuing. If you have never read this book, I recommend it; it is also good for children when trying to explain death to them.

I have some favorite trees; one being the Aspen of Colorado. When we lived there, we never missed a season to drive up into the mountains and see the spectacular array of Aspen trees awash in yellow color, their leaves fluttering like an orchestra playing their beautiful music all in harmony. Today, I am most happy with our Birch tree that lives in our back yard with her three white trunks coming gracefully up from the ground. She is a beauty, and in the fall, her leaves remind me much of the Aspens. And when she begins to shed her leaves in that dance of nature, I am always reminded of Freddie, and watch for the last leaf to fall to take its place in the mysterious cycle of life. Ah, trees...a precious gift of nature that we must continue to plant and preserve for our world to survive. I have been watching Ken Burn's National Parks documentary on Public T.V. and have a new appreciation for all the people who strove hard to preserve some of our forests and trees for the common good by way of creating the national parks. Thanks to all the men and women who did this for all of us. May we continue to preserve and keep our park lands for all future generations.

The End

"It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come." Shakespeare: Julius Caesar

The process of dying is indeed a mystery. This past weekend I had the honor of sitting with my sister-in-law while she was actively dying. (nurse's term) I say honor because I believe it is an honor to be with someone during the very final chapter of his/her life....a life that is entirely unique to this world; a one-of-a-kind, like all of us. And just as birth is a profound, miraculous event filled with awe and mystery, so too is death, I think. I sat with my sister-in-law in the hospital as one by one, her body mechanisms began to fail, and though she was comfortable and breathing on her own, I knew that the end of her life was near. I was not afraid for her, and I talked to her often to let her know I was there as others of her family did also, and she squeezed my hand to tell me she knew, although she could not communicate any other way. It was comforting for me to see her peaceful and serene, and then finally, take her last living breath. In talking to the nurses that witness this often, each person's process is different as each person's body decides when life is over. It may be hours, and in my sister-in-laws case, it was several days. But the result is the same for all....the end of life for a unique person who contributed her own talents and gifts to the world; for my sister-in-law, her gift and legacy of love. She was truly one of the most loving persons I have ever known, and for that, I am grateful to have been a part of her life, and honored that I could be with her at the end of her life.

Why would I travel five hours just to have lunch with ten of my High School girlfriends, which I did this past Wednesday?

Not often in life do we get the opportunity to REALLY bond with other women; it usually happens when we spend time together, have shared experiences, and things in common; experience a few "aha's" together, supporte each other; laugh and cry together, and overall....achieve some remarkable passages of life together.

I have been blessed in life with wonderful girlfriends who did all of these things with me at one time or another. But, there is one group of girlfriends who did all of these things as a group, and these are the twenty-four girls I went to Summit Country Day High School with (Cincinnati)....at that time, an all girl's Catholic school. And when I walked into my classmate, Carol Manley's house last Wednesday for lunch, I felt like I had come home. No one knows me like these girls know me, and no matter what girlfriends I've had along the way, these are the girls who know me best.

These are the girls I slumber-partied with; got into H.S. trouble with; studied for latin exams with; talked about first boyfriends with; drove around with after getting my driver's license; got my class ring with; belonged to a High School sorority with; laughed, cried & agonized with, and finally graduated from High School with. More importantly, these are the girls I shared my deepest values with; girls who, like me, were shaped and formed by the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur and who were given an extrodinary education under the same roof. This was the setting that bonded us, and though we are an ecclectic group of women with multiple interests and talents, we are also one family together. I am so glad to be back in their midst. Five hours seemed short in comparison to the time I was able to spend with them.

I have lost two very special girlfriends in my life and the loss runs deep in me. I am reminded to hold on to what is important, rare and precious in my life. One of these is the Summit Class of 1958.

On the Rightness of Doing Nothing

"If you can spend a perfectly useless afternoon in a perfectly useless manner, you have learned to live." Lin Yutang (1895-1976)
Lin Yutang's book, The Importance of Living, is one of my favorite books. Yutang is a Chinese philosopher, and a light-hearted one who said, "To me personally, the only function of philosophy is to teach us to take life more lightly and gaily than the average business man does." Now who couldn't like this guy? You might want to check him out; he has a lot of good stuff on living and enjoying your life which brings me to the point of this entry, and that is, "Ways to Enjoy Doing Nothing Without FEELING GUILTY.
Like most of us, I grew up with that Christian, Puritan ethic which said that one needed to be busy most waking hours with meaningful tasks. It is still hard for me to take time for myself, and in fact, "do nothing" of any significance. Sit on my deck, listen to the birds sing, look up at the cloud formations, dream, rest, and generally be a "slug." Not in my makeup, but in being so busy with worthwhile activities, I think I am missing a part of life for myself that is equally important, and deserved. So I have been WORKING (poor choice of words) on this concept, and have been gathering ideas and suggestions to put this into my life. And I am getting better at it, and enjoying those times more and more without Gretta-Grrrrrr standing over my shoulder reminding me that I am wasting time. I just know that I am learning to live, Yutang style.
Some ideas:
*Play a game just for fun without keeping score or competing
*Think of Aristotle who praised the contemplative life
*Carry a book of poetry in your pocket to pull out and read now and then
*Take a drawing pad out into nature and sketch what you see; you will look more closely; start
with flowers that are easy to draw. I am not an artist but I can attest to this.
*Go to a happy or joyful place and just wander around. Sometimes this can be in the middle
of a busy city. I love wandering around in Chicago.
*Try playing an instrument; get a lap-harp that anyone can play.
*Decide that one day a week will be a do-nothing day.
*Take a nap during the day. Naps are highly underrated and are healthy for you.
* Take a drive in the country. I do this a lot, and love it.
*Sit and watch the sun go down, or the sun come up.
*Listen, really listen to classical music without doing anything else. I started listening to the
evening symphony on the radio, not as background music, and I love it.
* Just be. Eek!

September brings the Canadian Geese flying overhead, honking their way to places warmer. Like the geese, I wish that I could just up and fly south with them. I love to write poetry, and several years ago, I composed a short poem about not being able to do just that.

The Geese are gathering now
Honking and hollering
As they fly bye
In their V shaped form
'Summer is ending,' they scream

And, I want to scream too!

'Cold weather is coming
And we must be gone
To a warmer place'

"Can I fly along,"
I cry
"Yes, you can,
If you can fly"

"Drats!" I answer
"Why them, and why not I?"

Geese, actually, have a lot to teach us about encouragement, leadership, loyalty and life. As geese are flying, they form a V (as I am sure everyone knows), and each bird flaps its wings, creating an uplift for the bird immediatly following. By flying in a V formation, the whole flock adds at least 71% to its flying range than if each bird flew on its own. When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to "go it alone." and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front. When the lead goose gets tired, it rotates back in formation and another goose flies point. Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed. Finally, when a goose gets sick or is wounded, and falls out of formation, two other geese fall out with that goose, and follow it down to lend help and protection. They stay with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or until it dies, and only then do they fly away. Anyone else see any life lessons here?

Folk Art Dolls

Some of you have asked about how to make these dolls. Here are some basics. Start with a plastic bottle of any size. Secure wooden head in top of bottle, usually by wrapping serain wrap around the neck. These wooden heads can be purchased at any hobby store. But, before securing head in bottle, decorate face with whatever....hair, eyes, lips etc. Then begin the design of the base of the doll....dress, skirt etc. Use shinny paper, brown sac paper, coffee filters to layer skirt etc. Then decorate away. As far as gluing item, as my sister says, use anything until it sticks. I use double sided tape and double sided sticky dots, again bought in any hobby store. Someone also suggested trying a glue gun. Could work. Enjoy and let your creativity shine!

Some New Dolls

GO TO "SEARCH BLOG" ON BLUE BAR AND SCROLL DOWN FOR RECENT POSTINGS AFTER VIEWING DOLLS.

Folk Dolls made by my sister and me.

About a month ago, my artistic sister Maureen came to visit and we spent most of our time making these Folk Art dolls which I want to share with you. I am hosting a doll-making party next Friday, and we will again create these fun and whimsical art pieces. Anyone can do it! You begin with a bottle, any bottle really, for the base, and then begin to add and create. We use mostly recycled stuff; many of the dresses are from coffee filters, or paper bags, and then we add trinkets and things you can find all over your house. The more the better; glitzy is best. Anyway, have a go at it; it is so much fun and gets the creative side of your brain working overtime.

A Day in the Life Of...........

Sometimes I wonder what other people's lives look like. For the past week, I've had the luxury of being home before I start back to work next week teaching college writing, and also teaching ESL to three Japanese students, and one student from Columbia. I decided to write about a day like yesterday as a memory before I got busy again. I guess I am stopping to reflect when things are good.
I slept in late; 7:30 a.m. for me with a cool breeze coming through our bedroom windows. (We've needed very little air condition this summer.) I know it's about 7:30 by the position of the sun in relation to those same windows. When it gets above the half- way mark, it is past 7:30, and I have overslept. This morning I can already smell the fresh coffee brewing, thanks to Mike, and I walk out to our glass/screen porch where I find him already having read our med-size town paper, and deep into the Crossword Puzzle. By the time I sit down, Mike is ready to let me have a "go." Together we finish it over our coffee.
Today will be a perfect 82* so it is pleasantly cool as I hear, for the first time today, the cooing of our doves, Hank and Henrietta who live here year round except when they are vacationing in Florida. We live on a golf course, and by this hour, we can see the players up and down the fairways. Sometimes, very entertaining.
This morning, other than golfers, I see two young birds going back and forth from our Pine Tree with twigs in their mouths to build a nest. Seems like an odd time to be doing this; didn't they get the memo about Spring building? None the less, here they are building with intention. Perhaps we can expect off springs in the Fall, or perhaps they plan to "winter" here and are getting ready.
Today, Mike is driving out to help his brother on his farm. Harvest time is coming soon. He will come home oh, so dirty from working with farm equipment; he always showers before even saying hello which is fine with me! So, I am free to do whatever. (Sort of)
First, grocery shopping...ugh! One of my least favorite tasks! But necessary. Years ago, from my mother-in-law, I learned about Aldi's, a German based Grocery Store that is the most successful in the world. Here you can save at least 1/2 of your normal grocery bill. Guaranteed! Their secret? They only stock (usually) one brand of the most sought after products. You don't have to make all those choices, and their products are fresh and good...even their produce. I have been saving money here for years. I don't find everything I need, but I can get most things here. I am also fortunate to have two other food bonuses; "Garden on Wheels" who deliver fresh produce to my door every week (never know what I am getting which makes it fun and interesting...I try to use everything so have to head for the cook book now and then.) We also are blessed with having Barclay Beef from my husband's brother who raises farm fed cattle, grazed on grass without hormones. So, we try to eat pretty healthy, a challenge for many families today. This coupled with our own small garden of tomatoes (lots coming right now), lettuce, green beans and basil adds to the freshness of our diet.
Oh gosh, I got off track while talking about food. Easy for me to do! So, after a trip to Aldi's, I stopped at Penirra (sp?) for coffee and a bagal (lunch.) Back home; unpacked and put away groceries...double ugh! Threw in a load of wash; cleaned up the kitchen, made the bed and then thought, "what next?" Perhaps a walk...well no, how about a 1/2 hour rest with the good book I am reading (a mystery). Naps are highly underrated and really good for you. Nap won out even though I know that exercise is good for you also. But one just felt better than the other one.
After nap; thinking about "what for dinner?" Mike will come home VERY hungry so "throwing something together" is not an option. While I am thinking, the phone rings, my daughter Michelle inviting me to come over this week to go to lunch and do a little shopping together. Yes! Of course. I love spending time with my daughter Michelle! Back to dinner planning. O.K. how about a summer meal on the porch: hamburgers, green beans and tomatoes from our garden and corn on the cob. Great!
Rest of afternoon, I change over the laundry, prepare things for dinner (shuck corn), write out some bills to be paid, look at my e-mails (not enough from friends, and too many from advertisers!) and await my husband's return. Seldom do I watch T.V. although, my husband and I enjoy "Two and a Half Men."
Evening includes dinner together, conversation of the day, outside looking for golf balls in the high grass behind our house parallel to the golf course (Mike found six) and then off to bed early to read (my mystery again) before falling asleep. Since I am not a T.V. watcher, this is my usual routine unless something fabulous is on the Public Channel which yesterday was the "Mostly Mozart" symphony playing at Lincoln Center with Joshua Bell, violinist. Awesome!
I want to remember this day...so pleasant with little angst (except grocery shopping) as I will not always have one this delightful and peaceful. One of my favorite quotes: "Enjoy the ice cream while it's on your place!" What does a happy day for you look like???

Beautiful art has always been a joy of mine and visiting museums is such a pleasure! During our travels in upstate New York, Mike and I spent several hours at The Norman Rockwell Museum where his originals are on display. And although I would have been happier if it had been Matisse, who doesn't love Normal Rockwell??? And besides looking at all that "Americana," I enjoyed listening to the tapes where the children (now adults) talked about posing for hours while NR painted them. It was so hard they said to stand in one position for so long but NR would give them a nickle an hour which he dropped in a jarfor them. They thought it was worth it as they could then go to the local candy store and pick from a multitude of treats.
My love of art began, I am sure, with my mother. She was a talented artist but very seldom drew or painted after her children began arriving (7.) But she did see that we got an early and profound sense of art by taking us to art lessons every Saturday morning at the Cincinnati Art Museum at a very early age. I can still picture myself in one of those big rooms trying to copy one of the Masters. Hilarious to me, but it somehow worked with both my brother John who is an artist of sorts as well as my sister, Maureen. I dabble.
This brings me to my next subject on the same subject really. I have just finished reading two books back to back about art theft here and around the world, and have learned a great deal about a subject I knew little about, but which interested me a great deal. For one thing, art museums are the least protected places on earth, and it is (or has been) somewhat easy to walk in and steal a very rare and expensive painting right off the wall. I was amazed by this revelation but it really is true. Museums are underfunded and therefore, do not have enough security, and thieves know this. They often walk off with millions of dollars of rare art. The book that so fascinated me is called, "The Gardner Heist," The True Story of the World's Largest Unsolved Art Theft, by Ulrich Boser.
March 18 (early morning after St. Pat's Day for a reason), in 1990, two thieves broke into the Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston and stole a dozen masterpieces including one Vermeer (there are only 36 in existence; perhaps now, 35), three Rembrandts and five Degas worth a total of $500 million. Almost two decades later, the art has not been found. This book coupled with a book I bought at the bookstore which I also loved reading was called "The Art Thief" by Noah Charney. Great reads both! There is a whole world of stolen art out there and these two books had me both fascinated and distressed by the easy access that the "unsavory" have to these rare and one of a kind art pieces. I am thinking of making a donation to my favorite museum, just a train ride away; the Chicago Art Museum and earmarking it for security. Suggest the same for anyone out there who feels as I do about protecting the Masters.

Thinking with Humor

When I get "up-north" to our favorite spot on the lake in Onekema, Michigan, I love the sunshine of a bright day which warms me to my very soul. I am also grateful for a rainy day when I can get in the car and head twenty miles farther north to the little tourist town of Frankfort, Michigan. Here resides my favorite, small book store which I have frequented all the years I've been coming to this northern paradise. I know the people there, and am glad to see the same faces year after year, and to talk with them about books. Small book stores still have enthusiastic bibliotects, and what a joy it is to get their "read" on the year's favorite page-turners. This year, once again, I was not disappointed.
Now some of you may know of this book that Margarette told me about since it was published in 2007, but it was news to me. I think Margarette sets aside a book for me each summer and then waits for me to come into the book store to tell me about it. At least, I hope this is so. This year's book is called, "Plato and a Platypus Walks into a Bar," by Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein. Some of you may or may not know that I was a Philosophy major in college which somewhat alarmed my parents who were hoping that I would have some kind of paying job after their four year payments to Marquette University. But, be that as it may, I have always been interested in the BIG questions of life; what's it all about anyway, and what's my plan and purpose in it? I have not picked up a Philosophy book in years until now. But, to call this book a Philosophy book would be a misnomer. It is written for the purpose of understanding the concepts of philosophy, yes, but understanding it through humor. For the first time, I am getting some of this stuff that I never understood before, and am laughing while doing it. This is an "everyman read,"....fun, funny, smart, interesting and enlightening. I love books I can say all those things about!
To illustrate a paradox in which something can be and also not be at the same time, the authors ask this question with this story.
"The town barber shaves all townsmen and only those who do not shave themselves. Does the barber shave himself? If he does, he doesn't, and if he doesn't, then he does."
If you want a lot of laughs and do a little thinking at the same time, I recommend this book. And now to prove that there is more to life than what meets the eye, I am going to swim underwater in the lake.

Places East

Two thousand miles later, we are back to "Normal" from our trip to upstate New York, and Massachusetts. Wow! A very long way to go, but rewarding and fun as we visited many historic sites, and ate delicious eastern seafood, and drank New York wines at cute Bistros along the way. A highlight for us was sitting on the grass under the stars to hear both the Boston Symphony and the Boston Pops play at Tanglewood. This was their once a year music extravaganza where music is played all day and four of the great conductors (James Levine, Leonard Slatkin, John Williams, Keith Lockhard) each directed part of the program which included the William Tell Overture, medley from West Side Story and Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture with cannons. Tanglewood in the Berkshire Hills of West Massachusetts, sits on 210 acres of lush green grass and huge mature trees, and is the summer home of The Boston Symphony. This was their 69th summer to play here at Tanglewood. The event drew about 10,000 people; the highbrow event I might compare to Woodstock nearby, celebrating its 40th year this year. Several other memorable stops included Saratoga Springs, The Norman Rockwell Museum, and the greatest event for me, The Mount, lovely estate of Edith Wharton, one of my favorite authors who wrote Ethan Frome, The House of Mirth and Age of Innocence. I just finished reading her autobiography last year so this visit was particularly meaningful to me. I actually stood in the bedroom where she wrote her Pulitzer prize novel! Edith Wharton designed and built this estate in 1902 according to the principals she developed in her first book called, The Decoration of Houses. I loved the tour, totally wrapped up in the author I love; my husband Mike, bless his heart, tolerated it. A good lunch and a glass of wine followed. We are home for a day to do laundry and regroup before heading up to our beloved spot on Lake Michigan in Onekama, Michigan. More to come from there.

My Hero

This morning, I read an article by Kathleen Parker in The Pantagraph, our local newspaper titled, "Don't Dismiss Influences of Nancy Drew." She referred to Senator Charles Schumer introducing Sonia Sotomayor at last week's confirmation hearing for Supreme Court Justice, and mentioning her girl-hood love for the Nancy Drew books. Ah, a girl after my own heart! Like many other women of my age, I devoured the Nancy Drew Mystery Series, and delighted in this smart, clever, courageous young girl (there were so few to read about) who figured out plot twist after plot twist with her brains (girls had brains?), intuition and ingenuity. Without my knowledge, she became a role model for me in my own adventures. I think that because of Nancy Drew, I was more willing to take risks (i.e. going to Africa with the Peace Corps) than I might have otherwise been. She was my first woman hero. She also, like me, had a father who was a lawyer, and though very busy with his work, always made time for his daughter.
I loved the mystery of it all; what impressionable young girl wouldn't? The books, my favorites being: The Secret in the Old Attic, The Secret Staircase and The Secret of the Old Clock, provided the excitement my own life lacked going every day to a very strict Catholic school where everything was quite defined. Nancy Drew's life seemed so carefree, so adventurous, so exciting compared to mine. Many morning I woke up wishing that I was Nancy Drew with a mystery to solve. Instead, I was just Gretta Conlan with twenty spelling words to memorize.
Only later in life did I discover that there was not just one author of Nancy Drew, but a whole roomful of people sitting in a room cranking out these mysteries on a daily basis. And while this created a momentary pause in my thinking about the books, it did not reduce my enthusiasm for them.
Young girls today have so many women role models; when I was growing up in the 40ies and 50ies, we had very few. I don't think I could ever underestimate the value to me, of reading book after book (sometimes with a flashlight under my covers) of a young, heroic woman who influenced me to be much like her.
There are many websites for Nancy Drew but the one I went to was http://www.ndsleuths.com where you can read about the upcoming Nancy Drew Convention, September 30-October 4th, 2009 at the Excalibur Hotel in Las Vegas. One of these years, I might just attend to pay homage to one of the heros of my life.

Walter Cronkite

When the world seemed altogether less sure, and less safe, the one person I looked to for the strait scoop was Walter Cronkite. He got the country through the Kennedy assassination expressing the emotion we all felt at the time, but with the strait forward professionalism he was always known for. He was always the voice of calm, the voice of reason, and the voice of truth. He was like a grandfather who told you the facts even though you might not want to hear them. He truly deserved the name (first coined with him) of anchorman, for he truly was an anchor for many Americans during very tremulous times. Later, I never missed Walter Cronkite on New Years eve when he M.C.ed the New Year's celebration from Vienna. He brought such class to what was already a beautiful performance. Thank you Walter Cronkite. You were as much a part of my life as everyone else who greatly influenced my life.

To Lie or Not to Lie

My last post addressed the question of "To dye or not to dye." Today, the question is "To lie or not to lie."
While looking through the Internet this morning, I found an awesome website: http://literaturepage.com where you can read full text entries of some of the more famous classics...fiction, non-fiction, poetry, famous quotes etc. right on your computer. I clicked on an essay by Mark Twain that jumped out at me called, "On the Decay of the Art of Lying."

"All of us lie," says Mark Twain; "it is the highest form of politeness." it is only "children and fools who always speak the truth."

Is Mark Twain serious here? Should we learn the art of lying as we grow up? What do you think? Does the 'commandment' "Thou shalt not tell a lie" or something like that, really mean NEVER? How about when your mother-in-law asks you if you like her potato salad that she has brought to every family event since you married her son? Are you going to say, NO? Not if you want to continue living peacefully with her son, you're not. Do you agree with Mark Twain when he says,

"I think that all courteous lying is a sweet and loving art, and should be cultivated."

How about when your boss calls you on your cell phone while you are still in bed and says, "Where are you?" What should you say?

"Oh, I'm getting a few more winks, (because I was up late partying last night), before I get up and begin the boring job of trying to sell your stupid product that no one want to buy."

OR

"Just heading down the highway to call on my first customer; they sounded really excited about the product when I talked to them this morning."

Leave a comment and tell me what you think? Of course, Mark Twain is the same guy who said,

"I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him."

HOW TO MAKE A COMMENT USING GOOGLE

SOME OF YOU HAVE E-MAILED ME THAT YOU WANTED TO MAKE A COMMENT AFTER ONE OF MY ENTRIES, BUT DID NOT UNDERSTAND THE PROCESS OF SIGNING UP, OR DID NOT WANT TO SIGN UP TO WRITE A RESPONSE. FOR THOSE WHO REALLY MIGHT LIKE TO TRY THIS, IT IS PRETTY SIMPLE, AND THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE IT WILL BE USED FOR OTHER THAN TO MAKE COMMENTS. GOOGLE WILL NOT BE SENDING YOU UNINVITED "STUFF" OR ASKING YOU TO DO WIERD THINGS, LIKE SIGN UP FOR DOG AND PONY SHOWS OR FIND YOUR LONG LOST FRIENDS FROM GRADE SCHOOL THAT YOU HAPPILY LEFT BEHIND YEARS AGO. SO, IF YOU WANT, JUST FOLLOW THE PROMPS, COPY THE SQUIGGLY IN THE BOX, GIVE YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS AND PASSWORD, AND VOILA....THERE YOU ARE. SIMPLE, AND I REALLY WOULD ENJOY SOME DIALOGUE BACK AND FORTH. TAKE A CHANCE....GO FOR IT....DON'T BE AFRAID....DON'T HESITATE.... HOPE TO READ YOU HERE ON MY BLOG.

Harold Gregor, Illinois Aritst

Yesterday Mike and I went to the 26th annual Sugar Creek Arts festival, held this year, on the beautiful Quad of Illinois State University. It is usually held in downtown Normal (Illinois), but this year our little town is having a major make-over, and Main Street was not available. Strolling along, we were enjoying the various art (it is highly competitive to get into this event) under white tents when it began to pour rain. This was our cue to leave even though we had umbrellas, but we had just come to look, not to buy. We are not in the market for buying "extras" these days although there were beautiful items to choose from. What will happen to all these struggling artist in this economy?
Our real reason for being down on campus, however, was to stop at the Illinois State Art Gallery where a friend, Harold Gregor, artist extraordinaire, was featured with his newest paintings in a series called, "Radiant Plains." We met Harold and his wife, Marlene, when we first moved to Normal, Illinois fifteen years ago, and were friends for several years. Marlene took me under her wing and with her robust energy showed me around the town, and introduced me to many interesting things.
Harold Gregor is known for his prairie landscapes, one of which currently hangs in the Oval Office Private Dining room at the White House. (President Obama had to make a special request for this as, apparently, only deceased artists may be displayed in the White House. (weird!) I encourage you to go to the Harold Gregor website (I will tell you how at the end of this entry) to enjoy the magnificent color of his newest watercolor and painting called Viberscapes. They are truly vibrant; their color is amazing, and to my surprise, these new paintings were done with Harold's left hand while his right hand was healing from a bike accident in 2004. After the injury healed, he painted right-handed versions of his left-handed efforts. (Talk about making beautiful wine out of sour grapes!) Not since Matisse have I enjoyed color like this. Harold's canvas, Landscape #217 "What of Yellow Eyes" is one of the most joyful pieces of art I have ever seen! Harold Gregor's work is represented in prominent public and private collections throughout the U.S. and Europe including the Art Institute of Chicago and the Filipacchi Collection in Paris. Now, how to see for yourself, this amazing art.

Go to Google and type: Harold Gregor Illinois Artist
Click on first entry: About Harold Gregor
Scroll down to SELECTED ARTICLES
Click on the 11th entry: article by Kinsey called: "Plain Pictures: Images of American Prairie"
Click on Portfolio, and enjoy Favorites of mine: Ten to Neon Blue, What of Yellow Eyes,
Viberscapes