They came by ship

Thinking about Catherine Lonergan Cobb - my two great grand-mother.
When Jim and I were in Ireland we saw this replica of the type of boat our immigrant ancestors would have sailed on to America. It's not an ocean liner - and would have been dark and dank below decks.
All sail power-so that would have been quite a long voyage. Wow!

I think of the leaving - where they would have had an "American wake" - a good-bye party for those leaving - because they did not expect to come back. It was expected to be a "forever" leaving. Catherine was fortunate - the Lonergans came as an extended family. So many came alone.

More to know, that's for sure.


Homage to Kurt Schwitters

Free Torn
collage - circa 1980
e. schoettler

At the Phillips Gallery last week  I was once again entranced by small collage gems by DADA artist and collage master, Kurt Schwitters. We are so accustomed to seeing the collage art form that we forget that when Schwitters began composing with found objects and bits of detritus - he was inventing the new form. Bravo!


Hurricane Irene and a short video - Irish Roots

Hurricane Irene came and went. We were lucky in the MD, VA, and DC area - not too much devastation although many folks are still without power. We lost power last night for about four hours - very grateful they got it fixed so quickly.

We did the usual preparations - getting the batteries and lanterns checked out, checking the battery operated radio and making sure we had plenty of food and water. And then we waited. There is always a sense of apprehension when you know Mother Nature is headed in your direction. CNN keeps cautioning and predicting and that keeps a level of unease going.

So this morning we woke to rain and lessening winds and then gradually basked in the sunshine. By midafternoon it was humid and hot outside. Back to normal - sort of.

There is always cleaning up to do - how much depends on how the storm came through your area. Our cleaning up will be relatively easy - putting patio furniture back, moving the planters back in place etc. etc. Re-storing the lanterns and other survival supplies.

While we were waiting I focused on video editing - making snippets from longer videos.

This is a bit of a longer piece -- Irish Gold in which I combine genealogy, memories and some traditional stories and explore my Irish Roots.

Catherine Cobb nee Lonergan, born in Tipperaray, gave me my Catholic faith, the gift of gab and the urge to learn and tell more traditional stories from Ireland.


A Stormy Memory -

Is IRENE really coming - - - or not?

All this talk about Hurricane IRENE reminds me of a childhood memory - - the time I was "in" a hurricane at Wrightsville Beach, NC.
In those days I don't think the storms were "named" and certainly no CNN with wide-media forecasting to warn folks what was coming.


First Steps for Making a Video Clip.

Gus Clip 2 from Ellouise Schoettler on Vimeo.

Have you noticed - these days many folks are using a "trailer" or some other kind of video to show a pre-view or tease viewers with a "taste" of their story? 

Well I want to have that capability too. So I have rolled up my sleeves and gone to work on learning how to "clip" a bit from a video. It is not "rocket science" but it does take patience and persistence - if, like me, you start from scratch.

This video is a clip - on the way to being a full-fledged trailer - I have made as a pre-view for FINDING GUS, my new one woman show - a story of how I found Gus Keasler's story. Gus, my mother's father, died young when Mama was a toddler and his descendants lost his story. He was known t us as "your Mama's father - so ironically HE was known of - without a story.

First -  you have to have the original video to work with. That was not a problem for me  because I have a pile of story videos to draw on thanks to my television program, Stories in Time.
I use the simplest tools - IMOVIE on my MacBook.
It may not be the best way but its working for me.
I still have to work out - how to add an entry picture - one where my mouth is closed would be nice - - and a text introduction.

If you start with a video on a DVD then you have to "rip" it to move the video into IMOVIE.
I use Handbrake which is a free application you can download.
Create a new EVENT in IMOVIE and move the "ripped" file into it. Handbrake sends the ripped file to my desktop as an mv4 file.

Select the portion of the video you want to use as the clip, highlight it and then COPY.
Create a PROJECT.
Name it.
PASTE the "copied' section to the new Project.

Once you have created the new Project and added the selected file you can tweak your project for the final project. (i.e. delete single slides)
If at first you have problems  - - start over - from the original Event.

When you are satisfied with the Project - share it - Then "share" - - export as a movie.
This file will also appear on your Desktop - with the NAME you gave it and as an mv4 file.

I store my files on Vimeo.

I imagine you could also choose to store them on your YouTube chnnel.


A Genealogy Connection

Gus Clip 2 from Ellouise Schoettler on Vimeo.

Genealogy research is crowded with serendipity, surprises and just plain luck.

In Finding Gus the key connection was my finding Gus's last living sibling, Annie Laura Keasler Moore. In her response I saw my relationship with Gus change.


Looking for perspective

Today a Facebook Friend posted this quote and its so "on point" for me that I am sharing it here  - because I don't want to lose it.

"yesterday is a thing of the past. Do not be hard on yourself about things you cannot change. The past is past and it's time to move on."

Since the Fringe closed I have been "off duty" from storytelling and enjoying it. Back to some normal living - - thinking and sorting things out. Every so often I have to step back - many paces - to get a perspective on things.
Anyone else do that?

Some things I have thought about:
1. Samie - our lost kitten taught us that its important to include joy and diversion in your life - even if it adds to the confusion and is a responsibility. Although I am sure nothing can replace the quick and special attachment we felt with her - we will be getting another kitten - for ourselves and for our dog Leia. Leia is so sad that Samie has disappeared. She keeps on looking for her little friend in every room in the house.
Chasing and playing with the energetic Samie shook Leia up - brought some new life into her . I guess you could say she "got her groove back." Jim and me too.
When you live with  chronic illness - as cancer is - its important to add some spice to life - and the antics of a kitten certainly fit that bill.
Yes, we will be rescuing another kitten - - or  - - is it that the kitten will be rescuing us?

2. Looking at the wood of the cleaned desk top in my office makes me feel good - like there is order in my life. Hmm. Don't mention the drawers yet.

3. The possibility of order has pushed me downstairs - really to begin the work of cleaning out my studio - instead of just chattering about it.
Big questions:
WHY have I kept all this stuff?
WHO wants it besides me?
WHAT am I going to do with it?
I think of the hilarious story storyteller Michael Reno Harrell tells about cleaning out his mother's house - and the ridiculous stuff they found - that she had saved.
I have the same - and its embarrassing.

I hardly believe myself what I am finding - stacks of empty boxes - of all sizes - so that I could put stuff away. 
WHAT was I thinking?


SAMIE - A Good-bye


In only 10 days we have become very attached to this funny, curious and lovable little kitten. This afternoon in a tragic accident  she left us as quickly as she came.  Jim, Karen and I are teary-eyed and sad.

We will miss her and the joy she brought to us.

But we are grateful for Samie  - even for such a brief time - she was a reminder that your life is richer when you take a chance - -
and let yourself  quickly become attached to a soft, furry, loving, little bit of love.


Three Beautiful Things

1. Two show cards designed and ordered. Finally they are off   the list.

2. Funny kitten - likes to be close to her humans.

3. Finally see wood on my office desk. Good feeling.


Ah, little kitten

Samie leaps and runs around the house. As of today she has a new trick. She gets a running start and leaps onto my leg and then climbs up me as if she were scaling a mountain. It would be infinitely more fun on my side if her claws were not so sharp they feel like a dozen needles.



samie - the new kitten


She has been here eight days now.
The honeymoon is about to end. She and our dog Leia had a real set-to today when Samie kept Leia's tennis ball a little too long. Their first skirmish. Samie is quick and small so she dashes under a low chair and leaves poor Leia frustrated.
Just like the cartoons.  They seem to forgive and make-up pretty quickly and begin the game again.
Like life.


Venezia Collage

hand printed papers and newspapers
e. schoettler

This collage, made in Venice, Italy, brings back memories of a wonderful four days working in an old-time atelier with my friend, artist Pat Segnan. The place smelled of inks and glues as artists ran their plates through the heavy metal hand-cranked presses. The work-room over-looked a canal. On a summer days the windows were eide open and we heard the songs of a gondoliers belong who were singing to their passengers as they poled them along the canals on a tour of the city.


Power of Five

The Power of Five
Acrylic on canvas
e. schoettler


Happy Birthday to my father.

We all have dates that we learned early in our lives because they have special significance. July 14 - my birthday. December 25th - Christmas and my mama's birthday. August 13 - Daddy's birthday.

Robert Bernard Diggle - born August 13, 1914 - died August 29, 1993.
 Memorial history

This week when I was cleaning my office I found an old letter tucked in among some other papers. I recognized the distinctive handwriting immediately. A letter from Daddy to his father in 1943. He wrote it to his father, S.L. Diggle from Biloxi, MS where he was training to be an airplane mechanic on big US Air Force bomber planes. He was 29 years old. After the training he was shipped out to a base in India (now Pakistan)  where he served until the war ended.

Most of the letter was catch-up stuff. How are you - this is how I am. But one sentence spoke for so many of our serice men - then and now. "I wonder if there will be a job for me when I get home?"

His question hovered in the back of my mind leading me to think about how he did find a job when he got home. About how your career makes a turn you never expected.

He was a solo-preneur before anyone thought up that word. He was a traveling salesman - who worked on commission. He was not trained as a salesman - its a job he fell into after he came home from WWII. He was born from Irish roots and he had "the gift of gab". People liked him. He was a natural.

At first he traveled North and South Carolina by car carrying catalogs of a variety of the new machines to make housework easier.  He drove through the small towns making stops at their general stores. Later, when he sold for a single company not for a variety of products, he moved up to flying to cover larger territories across the US where he marketed to the new larger stores specializing in "home appliances." He planned his trips on Monday and traveled three or four days a week. He was paid by the amount he sold and whether he met his sales goals for the week, month or quarter.

His desk in the bedroom was his office. He kept his files in perfect order - with a well-thumbed Rolodek on the top of his desk near the telephone. I never really saw how well-organized he was until I cleaned his desk drawers after he died.

Whenever he changed companies or products - he changed his sales pitch. His years in the business trained him to see what the customer needed and to describe his product in those terms. He prided himself on his ability to "make a sale."

Now as I think about him I see his business model as something I should think about.

I too am a solo-preneur. My business problems are similar to those Daddy faced.  His was how to make the next sale. Mine is where to schedule the next gig. Who will want to know about my programs? How can I create interest in their having me present the programs for their audiences?

Like Daddy, my desk is my office and I sit near the telephone or the cell phone.

How did he do it?

I wish I had understood more about his skills.  How I would like to call him for advice.


Daily Report

1. Funny little kitten learning to chase and play with our dog, Leia.

2. Beginning to make calls to schedule Gus.

3. Entertaining interview on WAMU radio with Diane Rhemm and Jane Fonda talking about Fonda's
book, Prime Time. They were delightfully informal - sounded like two old friends chatting
over a cup of coffee.


Three Beautiful Things - Gratitude

1. Enjoying the day with Jim.

2. Watching our new young and curious kitten explore our house - her new world.

3. Supper with the family to celebrate our grand-daughter's 25th birthday.
Startling how quickly those years have flown by.


About Cats

Jim and I have taken in a new kitten.
Introducing: Samie.

Her story:

The other day our daughter Karen sent a text message to my phone. No words - - - just a snapshot of an adorable kitten. I sent back a text. "Yours? Is this an announcement?"

A few minutes after she got my message Karen called. She admitted. No it wasn't an announcement - - - just a picture of a stray kitten she found the night before under the back steps of our house in a PA farm area. "What am I going to do with her - I have to come home. I called the local SPCA. They don't even keep them for two days, Mom. I just can't leave her there. She really is a sweet little thing - about 4 weeks old."

"Yes, I have asked the neighbors. No one is claiming her. I still can't figure out how she got here across two fields. She was hiding to protect herself. It looks like someone must have abandoned her or - how could she have gotten here - she's just a baby. When I drove into the driveway she started crying. Calling out. She must have heard me and she made quite a racket. So I brought her in - - she was scared at first - but then it was obvious she was a sweet cat."

I showed Jim the picture. "Do you want a kitten?" He eyes softened even as he mouthed "no."

Why did we cave in? Well, we didn't like the idea of abandoning the kitten either and we knew it would be really awful on Karen - who loves cats - to be the one to leave the cat-baby outside on her own at the mercy of weather and other animals.

Ordinarily Karen would have taken the kitten home with her -- but she has an older female cat - who is really territorial - - and not ready for an interloper. Ah, me.

Anyway. Now Samie is here. She is adorable - and we are enjoying having her.

More will be revealed - probably.

This is not the first time we have lived with cats. I tell that story on this video.

Mama's Cats from Ellouise Schoettler on Vimeo.


Eerie Present

Recently  I was reading Sean Buvala's new ebook, Measures of Story: How to Create a Story from Floats and Anecdotes,  about turning anecedotes and snippets into fully realized stories. It has prompted me to think about all the memories I have posted on this blog since I began writing it in 2005. So I am going to begin mining my treasures so to speak -  to remind me of stories I want to tell.

This is a nugget from July 2005.


Jim and I met at Johns Hopkins Hospital. He was in his second year in medical school and I was a new nursing student.

Jim was very intense about his studies. Often our dates became "study" sessions. We spent hours in a hospital library. Jim had his nose in his books and often I dozed off over my textbooks.

Jim often helped me tackle difficult assignments. Learning all the bones of the skull offered quite a challenge.

One night when Jim came to pick me up at Hampton House (the nurses residence) he was carrying a round package wrapped in newspaper. He offered it to me. "I think this will help you learn those bones." I took it.

I felt round hardness in my hands. I lifted back on edge of the newspaper wrapping. I stifled a gasp - it was a skull. " I borrowed it for you." Jim explained. He was waiting for my reaction. I swallowed hard. "Thank you."

I took it to my room and left it on my desk while we went to a movie.

When I returned later I unwrapped the skull and stared at it. The sightless eye cavities above the gaping toothy mouth stared back. I set it on my desk and got into the bed with a book. Shortly, I turned out the light. I could still see the skull on the desk because of light from a streetlight outside. I turned away but I could not relax. I knew that skull was looking at me.

Finally I got up, picked up the skull and moved it to the closet. I set it on the floor and closed the door. I turned back toward my bed. Then hesitated, and - all right, all right - I did feel kind of stupid as I turned the key and locked the closet door.

That's where the skull stayed until I returned it to Jim.


Found Art

Purple Orchids

When I was clearing some old files I found a folder of poems -

1.  On Connecticutt Avenue

A woman wearing burgundy hose
laughs with two men on the corner of R

I am stopped at a red light
a siren behind me ----where is it?

It  passes on the right -
             the tension in my chest eases

Two blocks down - a fuschia cab is parked

A succession of green lights, red lights,
             stops and goes

Snow flurries and COLD   the first day of SPRING
       YELLOW jonquils stiffen

What will happen to the vulnerable blossoms that
     trusted the premature warmth
     and opened themselve up to

                   F  R  E  E Z  E
                                 March 20, 1990

I remember writing a series of poems like this
catching colors around me.

Not a terrific poem but, like a photograph, it brings back a moment in time.
Reminds me of a ride down Connecticutt Avenue going home from work with Jim
on a snowy afternoon -

1990 - That's 21 years ago
 and, its a window into a long view
of our history.

Here - I will show you what I mean - -

I remember I was
Working on a 'found art" idea -
like the Surrealists
or the DADAists who tossed pieces of paper into the air and where they fell was the composition -

I scribbled the lines in my journal as I saw them  -hoping those bits of accident would build up into
    a poem.

Then I typed my hand-written notes into the clunky Compaq desktop computer
and printed them out on our dot matrix printer
on scrolling paper.

I can see the edges on the page where I pulled off the holes along the sides which held the paper in place.

Remember those - the noisy, grinding dot matrix printers -
our first one was a narrow nine-pin - later we moved up to a wide-body machine.

Writing machines are part of our history
From the upright Royal typewriter - we bought at a GoodWill store in Baltimore when we were first married
to non-electric and electric portable typewriters
  I still have the blue Olympic portable Jim gave me for Christmas in 1968
  along with Jim's Dad's hard case portable from the 40's.
to the IBM selectric with the built in eraser - Jim bought when he opened his medical practice.
  Yep we still have that too - its great for envelopes.

to our first computer - a luggable
It was advertised as a portable but weighed in like an old sewing machine
The casing box was huge, used large floppy disks,  and the green computer screen was teeny-tiny but -- it worked.

To desktops

to laptops

to using a PDA with a folding keyboard attachment - did not have an internet connection - true - but was a great traveling typewriter - great on the train or plane and ---it fit into my purse.

and lately the iPad with the attachable keyboard - that also connects to the internet - if you can pick up a connection.

Can you tell - I love machines that write.


Catching up

I just stopped by for a minute
 so I can cross "write on blog" off my list for today.

Things are "behind" around here - - -

I am hoping that while I am sweeping, cleaning and all that stuff I will think of something worth writing about when I come back.



Stumbled upon this quote while I was surfing yesterday. Fits me.

" Today people are so disconnected that they feel they are blades of grass, but when they know who their grandparents and great-grandparents were,
they become trees, they have roots, they can no longer be mowed down"
                  Maya Angelou - on the Oprah Show
                                                      January 2003

I have admired Maya Angelou for years. It did not surprise me she could say this truth so beautifully. I can hear her unmistakeable voice saying those words. Actually I met her once - at a White House  Reception  - I knew who she was before I saw her face because I heard her speaking to someone.

In this quote she captures and exactly describes the feeling that working with family history and genealogy has given me for years. The feeling that comes from knowing the long line of people I am connected to. It plants my feet. Makes me stronger.

One of the main impulses for me as a storyteller is to tell family history stories that encourage others to find and water their roots.


Summer memories

Its been so hot this summer - humid, heavy air. People talk about the heat. Endlessly.
Its hot all
across the nation. Look at Texas. Yesterday it was 113 degrees in Texas - and thay have had these same high temperatures for a month. Its summertime.

My grandmother called these the dog days of August - hot and stll and dry- -when the sun scorches the earth and anything else. In this kind of weather dogs lay down, pant and keep still.

Do they call them the dog days because of those lazy dogs. I looked it up. The name came about a long time ago - - - from ancient times when people first noticed that the stars formed shapes in the sky. Canis Major - the big dog - also called sirius - is the brightest star. From July to September it rises and sets with the sun - because of this the Romans believed it added extra heat to the sun - hence--dog days. We know today that Sirius does not give extra heat --that comes from the tilt of the earth - but we still call these hot days - the "dog days". Lately there have been times when I wanted to stretch out on the floor with my wise dog.

Today we can stay inside - in the air-conditioning - and when we go out we run to our air-conditioned cars. We lock our selves in to lock out the heat. We keep cool.

Maybe - like me - some of you remember the days when we did not have air-conditioning. You kept the windows open in the summer to let in any breezes that might cool things off. When those soft winds came they lifted the curtains at the windows so that they billowed into the room. Even the look of those quivering curtains cooled things down.

Or there was the purring sound of oscillating fans as they stirred their machine made breeze across the rooms---

Or the window fan blew strong gusts of air straight across the room when it was really stifling - - you set yourself directly in front of it and the mechanical wind blew your hair.

My daddy's mother lived in a large two story house in Charlotte, NC where there was a large fan in the attic. In the summer they removed a large square of the ceiling and replaced it with a grid of wood lattice strips so the air could swoosh down into the house. The fan roared as it pushed cool air through the upstairs bedrooms and down over the stairs to the first floor. That's how I learned that "cold air falls - - hot air rises." On a steamy dog day - my grandmother would tell us grandchildren to lie down on the floor under the fan and let the cool air wash over us from head to toe. When I slept over I pulled a summer blanket over me as the fan cooled the bedrooms and the roar of the fan lulled me to sleep. When they turned it off the house suddenly sounded so QUIET. Just talking about that fan cools me off.

Many things changed in the summer-

Take clothes for instance - kids wore shorts, light shirts, and sandals or most delicious of all we went barefoot - where it was decent. You had to be careful here you walked because of briars and stickers and so you didn't step in anything nasty. The the sidewalks felt firm and sometimes cool at home and when we were at the beach I loved to walk in the sand.

The women wore shorts - but only at home or at the beach - not to the store or to church. When they went out they put on light weight dresses with full skirts that swung gracefully around their legs as they walked. They put away the nylon stockings for the summer - painted their toenails bright red and wore strappy sandals.

We ate different foods in summer. Cold foods were favorites - things that could be cooked early in the day so that the heat from the stove and the oven would not heat up the house in the late afternoons.
You could often smell the tastes of supper just after you are your breakfast - frying chicken, boiling potatoes for potato salad or a ham baking. Remember jello molded with fruits trapped inside it. The real summer eating treat - watermelon.

For those people who had porches or shaady yards - the family moved outside after supper.

My mother's mother had a screened porch across the entire front of her house. It was a wonderful place to place anytime but in the summer it was even more wonderful. Granny turned it into an outdoor living room. In late May or early June - well before it really got hot John came and put down the woven straw rugs and they moved some comfortable furniture outside. Put several table lamps near the chairs and couch slong with a table radio.

There was a coffee table so that Dad Jack had a place to play the Solitarie games he liked to play before supper. You could hear him slap the cards on the table top across the room -

After supper Granny brought out a large pitcher of iced tea. We played rummy and listened to the radio. Dad Jack always had some magazines near-by to read and when people walked by they might call out hello or come up the walk and sit a spell.

It was different where I lived. During and after WWII we lived in a 12 family apartment house. After supper we might sit in the back yard with any of the other folks who lived in our building or sit on the wide steps of the front porch. I liked to skate on the driveway beside the apartment house - it was wide, white, and smooth. Kids played out-side as the light of day slipped away maybe catching lightning bugs, or playing hop scotch on the driveway. Once the women took in the laundry from the clothes lines in the back yard someone would set up several sprinklers and we would run through the cooling water - a quick outside shower before going into bed.

We lived in a corner apartment at the back of the apartments house on the second floor. I slept in a top bunk bed. With the window open I could hear the singing and the voices from the revival tent on the corner two houses away. Later I listened to and watched the men loading the trucks with trays of pies from the Queen City Pie Company preparing for early morning deliveries.

A few years ago Jim and I spent the month of July in Venice. It was the hottest July in Europe in a 100 years.
Our rented apartment was not air conditioned We kept the windows open. The hum of an oscillating fan lulled us to sleep. We woke to the cooler early morning breezes tossing the curtains out into the room,
We sat outside when we ate supper at local restaurants. When we prepared our meals in the apartment we did not cook so we would not heat the apartment. We feasted on local cheese and large loaves of crusty bread, salads, cold meats and ices.

With the windows open we heard all the passers-by below our second floor window. Bells from a nest-by church which we noticed the first week gradually became just part of the background.

We often retreated into large dark churches to escape the intense heat and sat on the marble steps near the altar so that the cold stones helped to cool us down
or we took long rides on a vaporetto on the canals to feel a cool breeze from the water or catch some spray while sitting in the back of the boat

We ate delicious flavored ices.
I wore loose fitting dresses that swirled around my legs as I walked
and large straw hats like my grandmother had done.

We drank iced tea
and we listened to the radio for music because we could not understand the language
on television so we read and talked in he evenings.

We look back on it as our perfect summer

Was it because it was Venice - that incredibly captivating place
or because we were reliving so many sweet childhood memories
or - because the heat slowed us down to enjoy the time

Tonight, feeling hot, even in our air-conditioned house - we ate a frozen Eskimono Pie for dessert - the "original" still wrapped in silvered foil.
Jim bought them. Maybe he heat brought up some memories.



Today I overheard this bit of converation between two workmen in a coffee shop in an office building in Bethesda. 
The burly man spoke definitely in a deep voice, "There is no difference between the two sides. All those people downtown have turned their backs on the People."  I didn't have to guess what they were talking about. Do you?

Now, the day after,  TV news reporters  have moved from speculating what Congress will do to talking about the real human cost of the recent budget vote. They are spelling out losses in jobs and government services. And as for medical care -- the . bottom line on the health care front pretty much boils down to this:  if you are healthy - don't get sick:  if you are sick - get well..quick.

This is just the beginning. Listen as the explanations of what can happen come out.  Now all the programs go on the table - and Congress will name the cuts.  Nothing is safe.

The other day my sister said, "If Mama were still alive she would be scared to death with all this talk about cutting Medicaid and Social Security." 
Millions of seniors must feel like we imagined our mother feeling.

I will tell you the truth- - I am afraid. 

Are you worried?



Have you noticed how stepping into memory brings up stories?

Noting connections - past to present - sets me in place and makes me feel connected across the years of my life. Its comforting - like wearing your years as a warm blanket.

Yesterday riding down Connecticutt Ave toward downtown Washington, DC, I noticed that the new Harry Potter film, The Deathly Hallows, 2, is the current feature at the venerable Uptown Theater. Jim and I agreed it would be fun to see it at the Uptown, a large deco theater with atmosphere and history. We nodded to each other as we passed it.

As we approached the Uptown Theater again on the return trip I remembered the first time I saw a movie there. "Do you remember - - -?" After 56 years of marriage Jim and I have shared most of our life-time firsts. My memory catalog on trivia has always been sharper so testing him is often part of the game. He blanked -

"It was on our honeymoon - when everything else was closed New Years Day we took a taxi out here."
He nodded. "It was a murder. right?"
"That's it. The Trouble with Harry - Shirley McClaine - a very young Shirley McClaine - was in it."

Ah, yes, An Alfred Hitchcock film.

We will be going back to the Uptown... to see another film about a guy named "Harry".
I will eat raisinets. Jim will munch on popcorn. We will hold hands.
It will cost a lot more than in 1955
but it will be much more than a movie - its an investment in connections... and worth
every cent.


Dusty Roses : Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

dusty roses
shred apart
that are not watered.

I spend time
keeping my connections to the past