It is Summer!!

 

School is out and what a fun and glorious feeling! I went outside to try and hear all the chanting and hollering as neighborhood kids walked home from school on the last day! As adults, I think we should always remember the joy of that day. As a kid, we sang all the way home! When arriving home we threw our school bag full of last day papers, leftover notebooks, candy wrappers, bologna sandwiches into the closet never to be seen again until the beginning of the next school year. We took off our shoes too and put them in the closet.

Summertime, lazy wonderful summertime! (Even though it is still a big chilly.) I am grateful my summers didn’t involve technology of any sort. It was play and imagination all summer long. My childhood home was tucked into what is now an historic district in Fort Wayne. We hung sheets on the clothesline for plays and charged the neighbors a nickel to come see our shows. I don’t remember what shows we performed; I probably wrote them myself. I am sure Shakespeare did not arrive yet in my childhood! One year I had a newspaper for the neighborhood and had a staff. Every morning, I assigned stories to the other kids on my staff (we were probably 9 or 10) and we set off to find the stories of the day! I wrote them all in long hand and had my dad make copies at his office. Again, those newspapers sold for a nickel.

Summers also meant the book mobile. My friends and I sat out on the curb with armfuls of books waiting to exchange them at the book mobile. We then carried our new armful of books home for the week. The bread truck came by once a week also delivering bread to the neighbors. Sunbeam bread had tiny little loaves made in the summertime and tossed them out to the kids from the back of the truck. They were our very own little loaves of bread! And really, what kid from that time period does not remember chasing the fog truck as it sprayed for mosquitoes. Of course, now we would be horrified to see such a thing, but we all joined in the street to follow the truck.

When we were a little older, my parents rented a big old house on Lake Michigan for the entire summer. We left on Memorial Day and came back on Labor Day. The house did not have a shower or a bathtub, so we just jumped in the lake every night even on those chilly June mornings. There was a big fireplace and cozy chairs for reading. There were no televisions, but lots of card games at night as the occasional bat swooped around the living room. Except for the bats, it was so lovely. My grandparents brought up their Airstream trailer and always spent a few weeks with us. We read books, went to town to “people watch” as my dad would say while eating ice cream. Those were perfect summers.

With my own boys, our summers were full of working on the farm, playing baseball, doing all our 4-H projects. One summer we had thirty projects which kept us all busy until fair week.

I miss those days, of course, but new traditions spring up to keep me well occupied. The Charleston Children begin their summer with me this coming Friday! I have all the grannie activities planned: chocolate pudding at midnight, full moon fairy dances, books by the dozen, movies at the Brokaw, prizes from Dollar General, treats from Dairy Queen, library reading programs, fun times with Aaron and Rachel and the boys, and lazy days. I also have them enrolled in the summer camps in the park.

I think sometimes we feel we need to spend lots of money on our kids, but to build memories with them, that is not so. My favorite summers were the ones I already mentioned, but what else can we do to make summer magical. Being with our kids, putting our phones done (yes please) is one of the best summer activities. Catch lightning bugs (and send them on their way back out before bedtime), make homemade popsicles, watch the stars come out, walk barefoot in the garden on the morning dew.

Parents, remember that childhood is such a short time in their life. Let them have fun, be playful, each watermelon, and just be there for them!

 

Badger Woods

When Thomas Gale and Cornelius Gilmore came to Steuben County in the 1830’s, they wrote about the forests, prairies, and crystal-clear water resources. It was a place of beauty, and they both knew they had found home. We are the recipients of their journey as we still have, almost 200 years later, one of the most naturally beautiful locations in Indiana. Pokagon State Park is one of our treasures and this spring was home to hundreds of blooming redbud trees. It was a magnificent site. We value our lakes and streams and strive to keep them clean along with our farm fields. Beauty lives all around us.

Within the next couple of weeks another source of great beauty is ours for simply a quiet walk, a click of the camera and the solitude of peace. I am speaking of the blooming of the field of lupines, known as Badger Woods, out by Anne Lake. Some of you have traveled there and know of which I speak. I first heard of Badger Woods a few years ago from Aimee and Nate Simons. It was the brainchild of Blue Heron Ministries as they took a dry, barren 13 acres in 2008 and decided it was suited for the planting of lupines. It is a not a secret, yet to many it is still unknown.

Lupines are thought to go back 2,000 to the Egyptians. They are typically known as legumes. They grow in well-drained soil and are deer-resistant and great pollinators! Their mythological purposes are said to bring imagination, creativity and renewal into play.

My bookshelf houses two wonderful books about these lupines. Most of these books are on the public library bookshelves, and maybe your own library! Tomie DePaola wrote, “The Legend of the Bluebonnet,” in 1983. This legend tells of the draught in Texas and the chief of the Comanche tribe telling the folks that they need to give up something they love for the gods to smile down upon them and bring the rain. They built a bonfire for these sacrifices. One of the children took her favorite cornhusk doll with blue ribbons to the bonfire to sacrifice for her village. That night the rains came and then came the bluebonnets, bold and blue in the Texas sunshine. It is a lovely children’s book about love and sacrifice. The bluebonnets hold a special place in the heart of all Texans…partly due to the legend and the beauty of the bluebonnets. Traveling to Texas during the spring brings all this beauty to the traveler.

In 1982 another book was published about the beauty of the lupines. This book, “Miss Rumphius,” was written and illustrated by Barbara Cooney. The story is taken from a true story and the life of Hilda Edwards Hamlin who planted lupines along the coast of Maine. In the story a young girl is challenged by her grandfather to “do something in your life to make the world a more beautiful place.” This book is charming in words and in art and is one of my favorite books to share with my grandchildren. They ask for this story over and over. I have owned several copies of this book as I often given them away…right off my shelf.

Sometimes beauty is difficult to express in words. It can only be experienced. We are so fortunate to have this beauty right out our front doors or just a few miles away. Our streets are tree-lined with the blooms of spring, our parks bring tourists from everywhere, yet here we are. Each stage of spring brings new beauty. My own backyard moves quickly over the spring weeks from the hundreds of daffodils in my garden to my beautiful crabapple trees out front. My pink dogwood is full of blossoms this year and tulips are still opening during the morning light.

Badger Barrens will become a place of amazing beauty within the next few weeks with special thanks to Blue Heron Ministries and their vision for providing this for all of us. When you go there, go quietly. Take one of the books mentioned or a poem…or a prayer. Take your walking stick to navigate the path. Take your kids or grandkids or friends. Tell them stories. Sit on one of the Aldo Leopold benches and appreciate the beauty of this world. Leave nothing but footprints and take nothing but memories. Remember to add to your own life, “do something in this world to make it a more beautiful place.”

Happy Mother's Day!

Mother’s Day is this coming Sunday, in case you were not aware! It is a bit hard to ignore this day as advertisements for flowers and chocolates and gardening items have flooded the ads the past few weeks. I think it is a perfectly lovely holiday despite all the commercialism.

Mother’s Day comes with a host of memories from my own mom. We bought sweet little mugs for her coffee for a dollar down at the neighborhood drugstore. We made breakfast leaving the kitchen in complete disarray but weren’t we proud of the pancakes on the tray to be delivered for breakfast in bed? The six Saylor kids never failed our mom on that day!

My own kids were lovely too. Although they had some challenges to deal with as they prepared pancakes on the wood cook stove! They picked violets and dandelions for my bouquets, and what mother doesn’t tear up thinking of those early days with young children. Sometimes they brought home cards with handprints and little notes attached. Oftentimes they came home with little marigold plants in paper cups. I have all of those cards in a trunk upstairs in a spare bedroom. I thank all teachers for doing that even though those cards still make me cry when I open the trunk.

With older children and those who live distances away, it is harder. Two of my sons, Abe and Adam, live in Charleston and in St. Pete. It is my middle child, by three minutes, who lives here. Aaron is the one I want to talk about today. Usually, I talk about all three of them in a conversation because it is hard to just talk about one, but today is different.

Aaron with his wife, Rachel, and their boys, Graham and Jonah, have built a wonderful life together. Recently they moved to a small farm on the edge of Fremont complete with fields and a pond for fishing and kayaking. Aaron loves the outdoors. In high school he won a statewide contest for naming all the trees in the state. He was a ten year 4-H member and went to college to study to be a naturalist and a teacher.

One of my favorite school stories about Aaron happened when he was in the first grade. Lucky for us his teacher was the lovely Rita Deller. She had all my boys in school. One early day in May Aaron announced to me that he was quitting school. He told me he had already learned to read and write and was needed home on the farm. I really wasn’t sure what to do about that, so I called Rita. I told her about the situation and asked her advice. She was a very wise teacher and knew just what to do.

The next day was Monday and Aaron bravely told her that he was quitting school because he was needed on the farm. She calmly and quietly took him aside and talked to him. She told him how much she would miss him and who would be able to teach the class about butterflies or birds or insects if he left the classroom. After he thought about it, he decided to stay to help her teach the other students. She was so wise. Aaron graduated from college, and I thank Rita Deller to this day for her kind and small counseling.

Aaron is known in our area as a class-act metal detector. If you lose a ring or other important piece of jewelry, it is Aaron who is called to find it at the bottom of Lake James. He will find it for you. Rachel often jokes about writing a book called “The Metal Detector’s Wife.” Aaron knows where the fish are biting in every lake (but he won’t tell), he knows where the mushrooms grow, which owl is in the distance. He has hunted in Alaska (now there is a great story), collected moths with his brothers in Honduras, Costa Rica and other countries of which I never even know about. The summer after his first teaching year in St. Pete he left a note for the family, “Going to Alaska, see you in September.” He drove straight through, slept in a tent all summer, and caught fish to pay his bills.

For Mother’s Day, he brings me a bouquet of lilacs from the farm and a load of compost for my garden.

These are my sweet stories, what are yours?

Happy Mother’s Day.

One if by land...

 

Listen, my children, and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere. On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-Five: Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year…” and thus begins one of the most famous poems in our nation’s history, “Paul Revere’s Ride,” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. (1807-1882)

Last Friday night at 5:00, with two lanterns lit, I read that famous poem on the steps of our old courthouse…as if it were the Old North Church in Boston to celebrate the 250^th anniversary of that famous ride. The audience was few…just Sarah Adams and her family. It didn’t matter how many came; it was still an honor for me to stand boldly to read those famous words in the poem. However (yes, indeed, there is a however), as much as I love Longfellow’s poem, there are a few discrepancies as to our history according to Longfellow so let’s take a look back 250 years to the beginning.

There is much American history to discuss in a short column so let’s just go straight to that famous night. It was Dr. Joseph Warren who instructed Paul Revere and William Dawes to take that ride to Concord. (Yes, Paul Revere was not alone in that!) Warren wanted two of them to go in case one was captured. Warren was a Harvard graduate of 1759. He became very involved in politics following the Stamp Act. He worked closely with John Hancock and Samuel Adams. To ensure safety of the new colonies, he knew the British were coming the night of the 18^th and sent two riders, Revere and Dawes. Revere was already active in the Sons of Liberty and a fine rider as was Dawes. They both left for Concord, but on that fateful night, neither one made it to Concord. Revere was captured by the British and was forced to walk back home to Lexington. Dawes fell off his horse and also made the trek back home on foot.

On their way, however, they encountered a third rider, Samuel Prescot. He was the one who successfully made it to Concord to warn the town by ringing the church bells that the British were coming. Little is known of Prescot after his famous ride, but historians believe he was part of the Sons of Liberty.

So, why did Longfellow inaccurately depict the famous ride in his poem? Historians and literary greats have asked that question for many years. First of all, the poem was written 86 years after the event. Did Longfellow just simply get the information wrong? Was that the way he actually remembered the event? Some literary folks think he wrote about Revere because his name had more rhyming capabilities. I mean, what about this: Listen my children and give some applause for the midnight ride of William Dawes? Or one of Prescot?

Other historians feel Longfellow wanted to have a folk hero from the American Revolution and Paul Revere certainly fit the bill. He was a colorful addition to Boston as a silversmith and a member of the Sons of Liberty. His obituary is long honoring his productive life with one exception: it never mentioned the famous ride.

Or was Longfellow simply focused on the idea of America and chose Revere? We will never know the answer to this, but there are a few things we do know. The famous poem was published in January,1861 in The Atlantic, just four months before the beginning of the Civil War in April. Did he see a correlation in his poem to that of the current history? Was he trying to bring the country together?

Another poem which also identifies that famous night is “Concord Hymn” written by Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) in 1837. He was commissioned to write the poem for the town of Concord. He does not list any riders in his poem.

It is always good to know the truth. Research helps us find the answers, and yet through all my own research of that time period, I still love Longfellow’s poem. It was one of the first poems I learned as a child thanks to my dad. I also loved knowing that in our little town, on the steps of our old courthouse, I could share my love of this poem and be part of the bigger celebrations that took place Friday night in Boston. One if by land, and two if by sea; and I on the opposite shore shall be…

Angola's Carnegie Library

 

 I love that we have so many musical groups in our area, and I am lucky enough to be friends with most of them! Last week the Channel Cats made a rare appearance at the Angola Carnegie Library. I sat in the front row with my friend, Jan, listening to them play and sing unplugged, as they called it. Usually when I hear them play it is quite noisy in a restaurant around the area. This was different and just lovely. At one point Bill Eyster commented on growing up going to the old library. Karen Holman immediately spoke up and asked if he attended kindergarten in the basement of the old library. He replied in the negative and was surprised at the question. He did not know there was a class once upon a time in the basement. Isn’t that a lovely thought? Little children going to half day kindergarten in the basement of the library?

For those of you who do not know, the new library (well, it was new at one point!) completely wraps around the old Carnegie Library. It is tucked inside just like a pearl inside an oyster.

A few years ago we had a celebration at the library in which I portrayed Louisa Hendry. Louisa came to Angola as a child with her parents, Thomas and Sarah Gale. During that time of research, I learned so much about Andrew Carnegie and our own library. Louisa was also very instrumental in bringing the library to Angola.

With a little help from Indianahistory.org, I learned even more. Andrew Carnegie came as a poor young person to the United States from Scotland. By the 1800’s he was well on his way to wealth from his empire in steel. One of his first projects was to build the Carnegie Library in Washington, D.C. It opened in 1903. Inscribed over the doorway are these words, “Science, Poetry, History.” Carnegie felt that libraries were where we go to feed our brain. Between the years 1901-1922 Carnegie funded 164 libraries in Indiana! Even more impressive is the fact that Carnegie funded more libraries in Indiana than in every other state. Why, you may ask? I know I certainly did.

A little research always helps me find the answers. At the turn of the century Hoosiers were literary hungry (my own words!) for knowledge and for a better selection of literary pieces. At the time of these grants the libraries (if you could call them that) were poorly housed with very limited choices and were staffed somewhat or not at all. It is interesting to note that women’s literary groups helped bring these libraries to Indiana. These grants continued until November 7, 1917, the day the United States entered WW1. It is also interesting to note that Carnegie was invited to all the openings of the 164 libraries but did not attend any of them. To this day 100 are still standing.

Our own library was built in 1903. They had a difficult time deciding where to put it as Carnegie wanted all libraries to be in the center of town. Of course, our center still had a watering hole in the middle which later became the home for Miss Columbia. It probably would not have been a great place for the library!

Carnegie also insisted each library have a meeting room for discussions on books and intellectual materials.

We are so fortunate in our town. When the time came to update, it was decided to wrap around the old library. When you visit take some time to check it out. We also have so much to offer at our library and a friendly staff ready to help. I love just hanging out at the desk chatting about books or theatre. We also have a wonderful children and teen’s section under the direction of Elizabeth Adamson. Summer reading programs are a gift to our community to keep kids reading and active during the summer months. There are lots of meeting rooms for everything from the herb society to the woodworkers to the ukulele players.

The best thing you can do for our library (or your own local library) is to get a library card. Check it out…books, CD’s, current movies, magazines or have your book club meet there every month. And go to the programs, such as the Channel Cats!

Andrew Carnegie was a self-man man who once said, “The man who dies thus rich dies disgraced.”

Thank you, Mr. Andrew Carnegie.

 

Another ending...

 

On the final curtain call of Robin Hood, I seriously cried my eyes out. I want to thank this beautiful community for supporting our Trine University Theatre. It was an amazing weekend to say the least.

On Thursday morning I was on pins and needles anticipating the 600 students coming for the show. I didn’t need to worry. Jenn LaRose at Trine had everything organized including a seating chart for each school. We were all backstage when the kids started coming in and the air in the T. Furth Center for the Performing Arts was absolutely electric! I have to admit I did peak through the curtain to see all the children. (Okay, to be fair, I always peak!) They were laughing and talking and enjoying each moment. I am sure many of them had never been inside the Furth, let alone come to a play.

At precisely twelve noon, I took the stage, and they all became quiet. Of course, I thanked them for coming, and then talked about the show. I invited them to help out in the audience with the “boo hiss” for the evil prince. They were delighted to help out. It only took one practice to get them going. Not only did they holler out, but all thumbs were down for him. Luckily, our prince is a happy guy, and it didn’t really bother him…too much!!

The students were a delightful audience. They high fived the cast as they walked by. My lovely cast chatted with each student as they left. I was so proud of them for such a great performance and for spending that time with them.

We had a quick lunch downstairs, and I sent them all home to nap before the call for the evening show. Some did leave, but others sprawled out on the stage and slept. I worked on the power point as they napped. It felt a little like camp! Who doesn’t like a nap in the middle of the day?

By evening they were ready to go again. If you can’t tell, I am so proud of these students. I am also proud of our community for coming to the shows and supporting them. There was a standing ovation on Friday night, and I thought my heart would burst with happiness. Following that show the cast brought me and Lydia, assistant director, and Connor, stage manager and tech guru, up to the stage to thank us and present flowers to the two of them and an autographed copy of the cast to me. Yes, I cried again.

One more show on Saturday, and I was stunned it was over. It seems as if we should just be able to go on and on doing this show with this cast. The truth is, I will miss them so much. We spend so much time together and then it is over. We still have the cast party tonight at my house and that is always so much fun. Muriel will draw a character on the wall, and they will all sign it, Whenever I feel like missing them, I know they are just a walk down my hallway.

We cleaned the theatre on Sunday. I stay after everyone is gone just to check everything. I sweep the stage, check the dressing rooms, double check everything and just sit in silence letting all the memories wash over me.

Theatre, storytelling, music are all important to all of us. You can’t really take us home with you. There is nothing to touch or put on the mantel. It is all about the experiences we give to each other, really. It is also part of the experience of a shared event. The arts are incredibly important to us as a town and as a society.

There is a lovely Gaelic word, Ceilidh. It is pronounced “kay-lee.” It means a gathering of folks for a social event. It could be a dance, a poetry recital, a theatrical show, or a musical event. It comes from the rural area of ancient Scotland where getting together any night of the week to play music or read poetry or read theatre pieces is important. The folks in rural Scotland knew this to be part of their culture, and I am sure they looked forward to it every day.

When you come to the theatre, we also share in those experiences. From all of us at Trine, thank you for coming to our Ceilidh this past weekend.

Show time!

 

Once again, I am sitting in an empty theatre. The time has come. It is tech week, and we are ready! We had rehearsal at 6:00 on Sunday night, the night of the storm. I ushered my lovely cast downstairs to the choir room as we waited out the three warnings. It was very loud at the Furth, and we could hear all the rain pouring down outside. I figured the basement at the Furth was about as safe as we could be! Once the warnings were over, we headed back upstairs. The cast already had their costumes on even though it was not dress rehearsal! They absolutely love wearing them!

The bad news came after the rehearsal as out tech guru, Seth, told us the surge from the storm when we lost power, knocked out our microphones and sound effects. This was not good news. My stage manager, Connor, has worked tirelessly on those sound effects and they are terrific. He looked so defeated when he and Seth gave us the news. Of course, I am a very positive person so I am sure it will be fixed by Thursday afternoon when 600 students come to our show. Yes, of course it will be fixed. Of course!

I am trying to think about what we might do without it, but I am pushing that thought right out of my mind. However, we all know the show goes one, no matter what.

Last night while waiting out the storm in the basement, I told them the story of the power going out during Hitchcock. We were working on the stage when there was a quick blink and then all the lights went out. It was scary enough being in the Furth without lights but add Hitchcock to the mix! We were still working on scripts then, so we got out our phones to read lines and to see our way around the stage. It wasn’t long before the emergency lights went out and I had to call the rehearsal. I sent them all scurrying although I waited until all were gone. Jacob was working with me then, so I was glad to have him as company as we navigated through the dark and into the parking lot. Going home that night was a bit creepy wondering what I would find at home, but all was well.

I was worried on Sunday night that everything would go out, but after the storm we commenced with our rehearsal. We are so ready and so excited to bring this show to you. “The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood” is deliciously funny and very lively. As all the shows I do, it has consumed my entire life for the past three months. Everything I do or think about has to do with this show. To make the show more endearing for me, Muriel Mackey is playing the lead role of Robin Hood. Muriel is a force. She is fun and lively and everyone around her stays on their toes. She was in my very first show, “Dracula,” and she played Dracula. Now a few years later she plays Robin Hood. She has been in five of my productions, and seriously, I am not sure what I will do without her. She is a friend to all the cast, a role model to the younger actors and a great asset to me. I guess that is the worst part of directing shows at a university or a high school. They leave. Luckily for me, they come back and watch the shows, send notes or help out in other productions if they live close enough. Last year’s graduate, Sean Carpenter, is a perfect example of that. Whenever I need help, Sean shows up. Even though he is a graduate and no longer in my theatre, the cast adores him and looks up to him as a mentor. That is just as it should be. Hopefully Muriel will not move too far away so she can come see us or offer advice to the younger thespians.

We are ready for all of you. This theatre has touched us so deeply this semester that I hardly know what I will do when it is over. Someone asked me that the other night. Oh, I have lots to do really. Shakespeare night is coming. The Lions Club show is coming. Gardening and playing my uke will get much more attention.

We can’t wait to see you this weekend.

 

An Evening with Shakespeare...

Ophelia

World Poetry Day came and went without much of a fanfare. March 21 was held in awe by many as the first (or second) day of spring leaving poetry to hang out under the waning gibbous moon. I know I kept a poem in my pocket on that day and lit a candle in my garden to celebrate. I am not alone in these celebrations, yet most do not know of this wonderful day.

World Poetry Day was founded by the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) in 1999 in Paris. The first celebrations were held in the year 2000 and we have been celebrating ever since.

I love that a national organization realized the importance of poetry in our lives. As you know, I grew up with poetry. My dad loved poetry, and we spent hours learning and memorizing verses of poetry. “Keep them in your pocket,” he said. Not only do I keep them in my pocket, but I share my love of poetry wherever I go. I am naturally curious about the beginnings of poetry. Where and when did it start? With a little research I found one of the first poems to be written almost 4,000 years ago. The title, “The Epic of Gilgamesh.” With a little help from the Yale University Press, I learned that this poem was written on clay tablets. It was written in Mesopotamia which is now Iraq and Syria. Of course, it is a love story. There is no author to thank for this remarkable piece. That has been lost to time.

I do start each class with a poem, unless there is not time. Last week one of my students caught me and said, “Hey, you forget the poem today.” Yes, I did. I made up for it by grabbing “Do Not Go Gentle Into the Good Night” by the Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas. I read poetry to my lovely troupe on opening night…all opening nights. I read Emily Dickinson’s poem about how it will never come again. And that is so true.

If I haven’t lost you yet in my history of poetry, stay tuned for a lovely event on April 17^th! Following our Edgar Allan Poe night at the Cline Museum, I was asked by the board if I would do another night of poetry. That is like asking me if I want another piece of chocolate cake. Of course, I will.

In years past I have read Shakespeare on the square in front of the Brokaw. Once I started with the theatre, that went by the wayside a bit. Now a new event has emerged, “An Evening with Shakespeare,” at the Cline Museum. I gathered my theatrical friends including Jan, Jacob, Amy, and others to see if they were interested. Of course they were. On that night we will be reading pieces from Shakespeare’s most famous speeches and narratives. Jacob and Jan are preparing, “To be or not to be.” Other pieces include “Romeo and Juliet,” “King Lear,” and “Hamlet.” I am working on a soliloquy of Ophelia from “Hamlet,” act 4, scene 5.

The other day I was given a bunch of old theatre scripts from Dr. Brad Jopek, our new music director at Trine. It was a box full of treasures, and with my own show in full production, I barely had a chance to look them over. However, my eye caught one that I just adore. “When Shakespeare’s Ladies Meet” is a wonderful short script written by Charles George in 1942. It is a dialogue between Juliet, Portia, Cleopatra, Ophelia, and Katherine…all leading ladies in Shakespeare’s plays. I have a feeling that parts of that script will end up in our show.

We are very excited to share our love of Shakespeare with you on April 17 at 7:00 at the Cline Museum. This will be presented by members of the community theatre and sponsored by the Steuben County Historical Society. We would love to see you in the audience! Maybe you want to read a sonnet or help out? Let me know…I will definitely find something for you!

Poetry is just another way to celebrate the beauty of life. Poetry brings us together as in act 3, scene 5 in Shakespeare’s Hamlet, “To be or not to be—that is the question: Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles. And my opposing, end them.”

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

 

St. Patrick’s Day came with a flourish and a flurry this year with a bit of rain and snow and sun for the weekend. Nonetheless, it is a grand holiday inspiring all of us to send wishes to folks for good luck and good love the Irish way!

When I was in elementary school, we wore green from top to bottom…shirts, skirts, socks…so that no one would pinch us. I wonder, do they still do that? I do still wear green at least in some ways as no pinching for me.

Our lovely ukulele group played Irish songs last week, so I wore green and sported a green moustache to kick off the week. Actually, I took a few extra ones for my fellow uke players! Of course, Carolyn picked songs such as “When Irish Eyes are Smiling,” “Danny Boy.” It was great fun playing those songs. I even added the kazoo to some of them. By the way, I am getting rather good on my kazoo! Carolyn and I even went to the jam in Fort Wayne and played the lovely Irish songs with them too. I didn’t actually eat any corned beef, but there is still time this week to do just that!

When I was a kid, I always visited my grandparents on St. Patrick’s Day or on the weekend before as it was the beginning of gardening season. My grandpa Walter had the ground prepared for the garden and even if it was covered in snow or frost, we went to help plant the early peas and potatoes. It never made any difference to him on the weather. No. We had to plant on March 17. He would drag out, with our help, the burlap bags full of potatoes. He dumped them all on the cold ground and cut them up with his pocketknife. He always talked about the eyes on the potatoes. As kids, we were very curious about those eyes!! He dug the holes, and we put in the potatoes. I remember it being very cold in the garden.

As the day progressed, my grandma would bring out a thermos of hot coffee. She called it milk coffee as it was mostly milk and sugar. That is exactly how I drink my coffee now. I remember how good it was to drink that sweet hot mixture while planting! The best part of the day came when we were finished, and my grandpa dumped every last potato out of the burlap bag. There in the dirt combined with pieces of broken potatoes were two silver dollars! One was for me and one for my sister, Jessie. We were so happy to have those at the end of that day.

When we were finally finished, we went into the mud room to take off our coats and boots and dirty gloves and washed our silver dollars until they were once again shiny. At supper, with candles lit, my grandpa would say to us, “Now hold your silver dollar up to the candlelight and see if you can make it wink at you.” I think that kept us busy for another hour trying to catch the light and get our silver dollars to wink at us. You might want to try this with your kids or grandkids!

Of course, in the late summer we got to dig up those beautiful potatoes and help store them in the root cellar for the winter. Nothing tastes so good as potatoes right out of the garden! It is that time of year, once again, to get those gardens started. I longingly look out my back window. I always let the leaves stay right where they fall to put the nutrients into the ground. Now it is time to take those off and see what little surprises I might find in the garden. It is also time to prune the raspberries and get the garden ready for potatoes and peas and spinach and all those early garden seeds.

According to the Farmer’s Almanac, these seeds can now be planted in your garden: arugula, broccoli, cabbage, carrots, kale, kohlrabi, lettuce, onions, peas, spinach, and, of course, potatoes. Early gardening is a joy and gets us started. Maybe this year we should all double our gardens.

Until then, keep your Irish eyes smiling. Until then, Bing Crosby reminds us…

When Irish hearts are happy
All the world seems bright and gay
And when Irish eyes are smiling
Sure, they steal your heart away

Still baffled by time change!

 

For some reason the time change always confuses me. Why? I don’t know. Is it 6:30 or really 5:30 or maybe even 7:30? I never even change my clocks until I am sure. (As of this writing, I have not changed my clocks so maybe I will be on time or very early or miss the whole event?)

I had a flight home on Sunday, March 10 at 5:06 a.m. from the Charleston Airport. First of all, who flies that early? I guess I do. So, on Saturday night Abe and I discussed what time we should be leaving for the airport to be there by 3 or 3:30. I like to get there early, but Abe said, “You really don’t have to be there until 3:30 because no one will be there and maybe the airport won’t even be open.” We checked. It would be open. Okay, well, then I asked him, “What time do we need to leave????” We agreed on 3:00 which would get me there by 3:30 or would it be 2:30 or 4:30? I set my alarm clock for 2:30.

At 3:00 Abe came into my room, and I was still sound asleep. I am always packed and ready when he comes upstairs to grab my bag. “Mom, wake up. You have a flight, and it’s 3:00.” I was completely in a fog, and I didn’t even know what he was talking about. It was that very deep, dead sleep. “What??” I couldn’t comprehend until I told him it can’t be because my alarm didn’t go off.

He continued to say, “There is no 2:30 a.m. It doesn’t exist. Your alarm can’t go off.” Okay, that was enough to wake me up. What? “What do you mean there is no 2:30? How can there be no 2:30??” I told you the time change really does me in.

I tell you, I never got ready so fast for a flight. I knew I couldn’t miss it as I had our first rehearsal after spring break that night. I made a big deal out of being back on time…including me! He came back up to grab my suitcase and I was hoping I had everything. After we got in the car, I couldn’t let it go. “What do you mean there is no 2:30? Where is it? Where did it go?” He continued to tell me there was only 1:59 and 3:00, but nothing in between. He tried to change the subject, but I couldn’t do it. Where did 2:30 go? It just vanishes? Did everyone know this but me?

Finally, to his luck, we got to the airport which was almost empty because it was 3:30 or something like that. The young woman at the counter was yawning as I stepped up with my bag. I had to ask. I mean, now it was a burning question. “Did you know that there is no 2:30 on the spring time change?” She nodded. She knew. I didn’t know. She laughed and said that so many passengers miss that early flight because of the confusion.

I got to my gate with a dozen other folks with that same hollow look in their eyes. I took a poll. Half knew and half did not. I felt a little better knowing I wasn’t the only one. As we were chatting about the fact that 2:30 does not exist, one of our pilots walked by with a large coffee in each hand. That was totally reassuring. When we were all on the aircraft, he made a joke which helped. He was awake enough to make a joke. Then as we starting to taxi down the runway, we had to stop as a herd of deer (seriously?) made their headquarters on the runway. That was a new one for me. It took close to a half hour to get them all off the runway and back into the woods. Finally, we left Charleston.

I am still a bit confused, but luckily, I won’t have to worry about it for another year. In the meantime, I thought of Carl Sandburg’s poem, “Arithmetic.”

“If you have two animal crackers, one good and one bad, and you eat one
    and a striped zebra with streaks all over him eats the other,
    how many animal crackers will you have if somebody offers you
    five six seven and you say No no no and you say Nay nay nay
    and you say Nix nix nix?”

Carl Sandburg

Stars...in the sky and on the stage!

 With my face pressed against the west upstairs window at the Fort Wayne International Airport, I search for the Planet Parade on Friday night. It wasn’t my plan to be at the airport on such a significant astronomical night, but there I was peering out. I caught the attention of others who came over to see what I was doing. A lovely man gave me his chair next to the window so I could keep my heavenly view and update the other passengers. I mean, the alignment of all seven planets won’t happen again until 2040! Venus is first as the sky darkens, I exclaim to all. Out of curiosity, some come look saying to me, “Oh, I wondered what that was.” I think to myself, everyone knows that is Venus, but then again, not everyone.

I don’t take my eyes off of the skies as Jupiter and Mars make their own subtle appearance, but alas I don’t see them all through the window. It is time to board the aircraft, I am the last to board, so I don’t miss a moment. I can finally wait no longer so I move along the small tunnel with a sigh. The flight attendant is smiling, and I gush out my thoughts on the planets. I want to talk to the pilots, but they are busy doing what pilots do before take-off.

I take my seat next to a lovely couple who met on-line. He has the window shade open, but we cannot see the rest of the sky due to our confined seats. Finally, I pull out one of my four novels and spring break has begun for me. I always save a stack of books for this one-week trip. It is a quick flight to St. Pete; one I have taken so many times. Cool, fresh air greets us as we leave the aircraft. I love Florida at this time of year as it isn’t hot yet, and perfectly refreshing after a few months of winter. Adam and Lisa are there to greet me, haul my suitcase into the back, and off we go.  We chat a mile a minute as we meander through the dark streets of St. Pete. I am always amazed at Adam’s skill of turning his bungalow into a lovely house with a pool and yard on the trolley line to the downtown and the beaches.

My room is ready with new quilts and towels, and fresh sheets. Sleep comes easy with the window wide open. I can smell the ocean from my window although the roar of the water is too far to hear. I sleep late which is something I do not do at home.

With just a few days here, my time is divided between shopping and cooking with Lisa and my voracious appetite for reading. Adam has charters so he is in and out a bit, but on Sunday we all hang out at the house and get ready for a poker party so I can meet some of their friends. Adam makes tuna freshly caught with his brothers, while we ready the kitchen with fresh brownies baking. Friends arrive with side dishes and bottles of wine for dinner while I meet and greet each one of them. I thank them all for their friendship with Adam and Lisa. We sit at the poker table, and even though I play with a cheat sheet, I do well and pull in the chips. Adam and his friends are impressed!

The week progresses with Florida sunshine, my firstborn son and his sweetheart. I love spending time with them. Yet to come, dinner downtown, a trip to the Dali to celebrate Pink Floyd and the surrealist and experimental photography from the David Raymond collection.

By mid-week, I will board another aircraft and head to Charleston to see Abe’s family and watch my oldest granddaughter perform in “Hadestown.” She asked me early in the year if I could come see her, and as it happened to coincide with spring break, I will be there opening night. The twins are also waiting with a worn-out calendar as they cross off every day until I arrive.

It is just one quick week out of my spring semester in which my mind can completely enjoy family without pressure of school or rehearsals. When I return home, forsythia bushes will bloom, and peepers will begin their spring chanting.

But isn’t it lovely to see everyone during one week in March? 

Plein Air painting is alive and well!

 

My cousin, Eric Rhoads. 

The air was quite electric as folks streamed in and out of the Steuben Art Scene on Sunday. I knew I wanted to attend after the concert by the Trine University Wind Ensemble at the T. Furth. The concert, too, was full of attendees on Sunday’s warm afternoon. Dr. Brad Jopek really showed us his talent in bringing quality music to our lives with “Music from the Silver Screen.”

After chatting with students and parents of students, I meandered over to the Steuben Arts Scene open house. Much to my surprise the corner square was alive and well! It has been great fun watching this new enterprise take shape over the past couple of years. We have needed this in our town for many years, and now that it is here, we are so excited to be a part of it.

If you ever thought of working on your art, whatever form that may include, this is your home base. Classes of every sort are available, and now that the secret is out, they fill up fast. Last summer when the twins were visiting, I enrolled them in art classes, and they loved it.

On Sunday folks chatted about art, sampled lovely appetizers, and even took an art class! I was drawn into the talk given by Doug Runyon. Doug was set up in the corner surrounded by books and paintings. At the appropriate time he shared his love of art through the works of photographer, Frank Hohenberger. Frank spent 44 years of his life, 1904-1948, taking photos of folks in Brown County. During that time artists were traveling to Brown County to paint the landscape. One of those first artists was T.C. Steele. Frank decided he wanted to see what was going on in Brown County so he packed up and went to see for himself. Needless to say, he never returned, but made his career photographing the folks, not the landscape.

Doug gave an amazing talk bringing to life Frank’s work. Doug talked about how difficult it was to get to Brown County at the time. I was fascinated by his talk remembering all that I had learned during my year long study of T.C. Steele for the bicentennial. Being an artist at that time meant dragging all of the heavy equipment out to the people and gaining their trust for their work.

Because I like to connect the dots, I also brought into my own conversation the work of Gene Stratton Porter who carried her own equipment to the woods to photograph nature and eventually paint the flora and fauna of Indiana.

As I did connect the dots between Steele, and Porter, and Hohenberger, I caught myself wondering where my cousin, Eric Rhoads, fit into this equation. Following Doug’s presentation I had to chat with him. I introduced myself and thanked him for the wonderful talk. I did not know of the work of Hohenberger, so I loved learning as much as I could. I chatted with Doug about T.C. Steele and told him how Steele was my bicentennial character that I brought to life. That work premiered in Indianapolis and then down in the studio in Brown County. Studying Steele and that period of history was so informative to me. It was the backdrop for Sunday’s lecture.

I told Doug that my cousin, Eric Rhoads, was the publisher and editor of Plein Air Magazine. By the look on his face, I could tell he was quite interested. As we talked about my cousin, Doug honored me by telling me he thought Rick was the biggest influencer of bringing back the plein air movement. Rick has dedicated his life to plein air painting by his own work and by taking groups to Cuba, Africa, New Zealand, Russia…just to name a few places. His goal was to have a million painters. Not only does he produce a magazine, but he does a daily podcast inviting folks from around the world to join him and promote this artistic movement.

I am thrilled at the success of the Steuben Arts Scene. It was brought to life by the vision of Vicki Thompson who wanted to expand art to the folks in our part of Indiana. After Sunday’s full house, I will say that she is doing just that.

If you are interested in taking any type of class, stop in and register! We are fortunate here in northern Indiana.

Congratulations, Steuben Arts Scene. We are so glad you are here!

Once again, Kindness 101...come on, you can do it!

I have always liked Steve Hartman’s Kindness 101 on CBS. I love watching him, usually with his children, sharing values as kindness, respect, patience. He even has lesson plans for teachers to use his videos and lovely ideas.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about Kindness 101. I mean, we live with 101 lakes, so why not have 101 ways of teaching, not just our children, but ourselves about kindness? I do want to say before I begin that I write this as much for myself as  you. Of course, I cannot get 101 thoughts in one small column. If you would like to send me some of your ideas, I would love to hear them and share them!

Some of these are very small tokens of kindness and gratitude, others are larger. I want to chat first about kindness while driving. I love it when you stop and let Lola, my old red Jeep, and me pull out of a side street or a parking spot. I am always so worried you won’t see me waving away so I always put my window down and wave voraciously as I thank you. Thank you. I also return the favor whenever I can. And please don’t forget to pull over for all emergency vehicles. They need the space to get on the scene as soon as possible, and always pull over for funeral processions.

This next gesture is one I have to keep in mind myself. We all fill the blessing boxes around the holidays. Yes, we do. We think about giving during that time of year. But, folks, people are still hungry when it is not the holidays. It is so easy to fill an extra bag every time you head to the store. I know prices are up a bit but let us be grateful for what we have and take a few of our coins to help out others. There are blessing boxes all over our area. Let us fill them up!

Shopping small is always at the top of my list. We love our small towns, which is the very reason I live here. I cannot imagine living anywhere else, and that is why I try my absolute best to put my coins into the coffers of our small businesses from our lovely theatre to restaurants to other shops. We have the most beautiful theatre, and it is our responsibility to attend. I love meeting friends at the Brokaw. They even offer free movies for Trine students on Thursday nights and offer a senior citizen movie once a month. As for restaurants, it is amazing how many local eateries we have in this town. Go there…tell them you appreciate them…share it with your friends.

Let’s talk about volunteering. There are so many opportunities. Do you love reading to children? I am sure your child’s teacher would love to have you help out in the classroom. Or choose to volunteer at the places you love. Humane shelter? Music programs? Theatre programs? Highway clean-up? Well, I could go on and on, but you get the picture.

There are many simple things we can do. Let someone go ahead of you at the grocery. Someone with a few items or a child that needs attending. Help them out. And always, always put your cart away! Thank the person who keeps the bathrooms clean at the airport or your school or business. Or pay it forward any way you can. In the drive-through, in a store. Do we even have any idea on how that could change someone’s day?

On your own home front, let’s expand our gardens! Plant flowers to beautify your neighborhood. Bake cookies or bread and fill jam jars with last year’s bounty and give away. Put books out for children in your little library. Talk to children as they walk past your house on their way to school.

I have barely touched the surface of Kindness 101. I know we can think of 101 things to do to make our world a better place. Start a list and add to it every day and see how many of those things you can do. I will do the same with my list.

If there was ever a time our world needs kindness, it is now. I always think of our corner of this world as where the heartbeat is strong. Our heartbeat can extend throughout the state, throughout the country, throughout the world.

Why not?