A Birthday to Remember

Since it would be nice to spend my birthday with my mother, Jim and Karen and I drove to NC.

Started the day with a nice surprise. My youngest sister, Dena, brought me a pound cake she made "from scratch" using my mother's recipe. Talk about a special surprise! Dena hesitated as she handed it to me. " I hate to give one of these away without cutting it first -" I knew what she meant. Laughing I reached for the cake, "If there is a "sad" streak I will love it anyway". Anybody that has ever made a pound cake from scratch knows the moment of truth at the cutting - if the cake is not cooked well there is a streak of undercooked dough right through it and its "sad".

Mama treated us to lunch at Concord Place where she lives. Dena's cake was a treat for all especially Mama who loved eating one of her cakes again. Once Mama was "known" for her perfect and perfectly delicious pound cakes. " I made them for parties at work and then people started asking me to bring them. Once a man took a bite and said, " Maam, this is the BEST cake I ever ate." Mama asked for a second piece of cake. "I think she did good with this one, don't you?"

Do you ever have the feeling that you are seeing someone as you once knew them? I know that when I look into my mother's face today I have a memory of this woman -and I think she remembers me as this child.




We had a great visit - lots of laughs despite having to deal with the painful truth of my mother's cancer as she accepts it and decides what course of medical treatment to follow.

Mama and I go back a long way - proven by this birthday. We share a heap of memories. When we start laughing together we can bring back very happy times and lots of people we share. Nobody knows you like your mother - and nobody has seen as much of your life as your oldest child - especially when it is a nosy daughter.

Yes, I have enjoyed some really special birthdays - in Africa and Italy and Ireland. And I have had some neat parties thanks to Mama and Jim - but right now , this one tops the list - home made cake and holding my mama's hand.

My New Driver's License - more to the story

In June I wrote about my history with the Maryland Motor Vehicle Department. Here is more to the story.

July - time for me to renew my driver's license. When I renewed four years ago it took hours. So, I was dragging my feet about going to the MVA Office and as a result came right up against the last day before my current license expired. This was the DAY.

I parked my car in the lot about 9:20 am. When I walked into the large room I was startled. It was empty. And changed. It had been rennovated since my last visit four years ago. Now the room was more open and brighter. I by-passed the rope line since there was no one standing there and went directly to one of the "stations". Before I could say a word the man motioned me to sit down and look into a small black box - the new approach to the old eye chart on the wall. While I was answering those questions he checked my form and pulled my record up on a computer screen, that I could read as well. I read the information and approved it, "yes its all the same."

"Stand up and look into the camera". That's when I noticed th blue fabric drape on the wall; across from it was the bold eye of a camera. "Smile." Click. Then I signed a small computer screen. As I wrote out the check for the new license the picture was processed, the signature captured and all of it embedded onto a laminated card. Voila - my new license to drive.

I was amazed. From start to finish - 15 minutes.

When I turned to leave I counted eight people standing in line waiting their turn.

Where did they come from? I must have stepped through the front door just before the beginning of a rush.

I left smiling and marveling at progress.

Ireland re-dux

Nice to be settling in at home after almost two weeks in California. Loved being with Robin and her family and seeing everybody at the family reunion but - there is nothing like the familiarity of your own bed.

So why is it we move around so much. What is this restlessness?

As I was unpacking this afternoon I remembered that at this time last year I was unpacking in Ireland. That was a strange trip.
We traveled with an Elderhostel group and by the time we got home we were hostile elders. Since then its been hard for me to process the trip and write about it. Not that its necessary to write about trips; its just that when I do I remember it.

First off, I have to say that by the third day of the trip I was felled by a severe attack of diverticulitis. I could hardly walk without excruciating pain in my back. I was miserable. And irritable. Making me a really delightful traveling companion for Jim.

But more than that - we both felt confined by long daily bus rides with our American group which closed us off from meeting or interacting with locals. And, we had really looked forward to spending time in a country where we had a common language and could meet people. And, hear stories.

We heard stories all right - from our group companions - because we shared three meals a day with them and all those endless hours in the bus. The people were nice. Perhaps they felt as trapped as we did. Its just that we were looking for stories from Irish locals - not our own country follk. And, the leader, an articulate and very smart university professor, was committed to his syllabus and talked it at us endlessly all day, every day. Leaving little room for spontaneity or serrendipitous discovery. I could not believe that we were riding right by a replica of an immigrant ship that brought our relatives to America and that we were not going to stop. When a group of us prevailed in our request we had a ten minute peek at this ship - because we would be late for the next stop on the agenda - a mock-up village of early Ireland.

Jim and I took a bye on an afternoon at the Waterford Crystal factory. Instead we thoroughly enjoyed a lesiurely tour of the Waterford City Museum - not only was it rich in the history of the area but it was set in a rennovated waterfront factory which had been redone in a very creative use of the space- creating effective museum exhibit areas and preserving the original brick structure throughout the interior. And we met a few folks in the museum who made the time doubly worthwhile.

When we reached Dublin Jim and I bolted the group for a few days. The highlight of our entire two week Irish excursion was the Mary Gibbons day trip to New Grange, Tara and several other sites near Dublin. After reading Ireland by Frank DeLaney we could not miss New Grange - and it was not part of the Elderhostel agenda. Pity. Well - we did see the Book of Kells, and had two nights at the theater with the group. But most of all we loved just wandering Dublin city on our own.

What have I learned? To read the materials carefully epecially the daily agendas and not to assume anything.

This trip was exactly as it was described in the brochure and on the website.

It is not the fault of Elderhostel that their plan did not fit my expectations. I made those expectations up all by myself.

Would I sign on for another Elderhostel? I doubt it - but I might - if I read the descriptions carefully and decided it was the trip for me.

Back Into the Wild Blue Yonder

Its time to go home. Off we go into the wild blue yonder. Have you ever wondered - where is that fabled wild blue yonder?

On Jet Blue a little tv screen in the back of the seat ahead shows you exactly where you are, how high and how fast you are going.

Its a little too much information for me.

Fickle Me

Several years ago I went to the Apple Store in Walnut Creek and caved in to the lure of Apple. I bought this light weight Mac iBook. Its easy to carry and the compact square shape fits well into a small tote bag. The big keys felt good and reminded me of an old typewriter. I was in love with it. And, we were happy together.

Until a few weeks ago -

I went back to the Apple Store in Walnut Creek and encountered the new MacBook. it has a wider screen, a shiny white case and a small camera eye that winked at me. I was swept away. Wiithout looking back I bought the alluring MacBook.

But then - came the moment. I put down the iBook, patted the key board and walked away. Saying good-bye to a friend is hard.

Catching up

We have moved on to Madera, CA - Jim's hometown - for a family reunion.

Hot! Hot! Hot! The heat has moved in. Even in San Francisco. But I was not ready for the 109 degrees here in the Valley. Jim says it feels familiar to him. Maybe so, but whatever - it's HOT. Thank goodness for air conditioning.

We are staying at the Madera Valley Inn. It has fallen out of favor with some of the other out-of-town family members but we are loyal to it. Yes, its getting care worn but after forty years of annual visits we feel at home here. To us it is the "king's motel".

When our grandson Jamie was 3 years old he noticed the Best Western gold crown logo and dubbed it the "kings motel." And so it has been for us ever since.

The coffee shop at the "king's motel" is a breakfast gathering spot for old-timers in town. Jim always sees someone he knows. Last time we were here he ran into a girl-friend from high school. This morning he introduced me to a guy he knew at Madera High School who is a seasoned large scale farmer in the area - managing large pistachio orchards for absentee owners along with his own acerage. I found the guy fascinating and learned a lot about how farmers adopted the pistachio when cotton and corn were on the way out as profitable crops thirty years ago.

When I asked him how long his family had been farming in this area he shared some wonderful stories about his family arriving in the Valley by covered wagon in 1870. They came from the South, their freed slaves choosing to come with them.
He said his grandmother was a six year old girl. http://www.friendsofsaguaro.org/rattlesnakes.jpg
She told him stories of the trip. "They gave her a sawed-off shot gun. She walked beside the wagon and shot snakes in the brush which they ate for supper. She told me that a well-cooked rattler tasted just like chicken."

And ofcourse there is always the quick trip into Wal Mart to pick up something.














JULY FOURTH
We watched the fireworks over Moraga, CA from the Safeway parking lot - fewer cars and an excellent view. We set up lawn cars beside the car and enjoyed the show. Only one thing - Safeway Starbucks had closed-so no lattes.

Its About Hope

This morning Jim and I went to California Haircuts for trims. I love going to a beauty shop. Having someone wash my hair feels so good, I can feel the stress melting away as the water flows over my head.

And I always am so hopeful that I will emerge - - changed - glamorous.

I was thumbing a book as the woman started to trim my hair. I did not notice another client walk over and sit in the chair next to me.

Then I heard her beauty operator ask her how she wanted her hair cut. I looked over - saw her patting her thick white hair, cut just below the nape of her neck. She reached up and moved her hair this way ad then that. "Do you know the actress Doris Day?"
Unfortunately the young Vietnamese woman cutting her hair nodded a bewildered no.

I did not listen to her try to explain the Doris Day signature short perky hairstyle.

It brought back another memory.

When I was about 14 I had my first professional permanent. I had high hopes when I walked into Jack Garrison's Beauty Shop at the corner of Central Avenue and the Plaza in Charlotte. I even had a picture with me. I wanted a poodle cut - so that I could look like Sophia Loren. Several hours later the woman took the tight curlers out of my hair, washed off the smelly perm solution and styled it for me. I fought back tears as I watched her comb out my new curly hair . I was ruined. When she finished my hopes were totally dashed. I did not look like Sophia Loren. I looked just like my grandmother except that I did not have a blue rinse on my hair.

I walked home in dispair. I tell you I felt ruined. At home I sat in front of the dresser mirror in my bedroom and cried. Then I hit on a solution. I got as pair of scissors and began cutting off the tight ringlets. I was sure it could not get any worse.Today
I picked up a pair of scissors and began to cut. I knew it could not get any worse.

I was wrong!
Today I still sit in from of the mirror in a beauty show - hoping for a transformation - but now I am not wishing for anything as specific as I did then.

Better is often good enough.

Future Basketball Stars

Check this out. So that's how these kids learn to handle the ball so well! New to me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9a3kVqygM8

Taking short spurts of film with my baby digital camera as I practice loading them onto You Tube.
Its like eating peanuts - more, more, more.

And you will never see my best to date. A film of wild turkeys by the road side but then they starting doing what turkeys will do and oops - it became an X-rayed film.

How Did I Miss This?

Is it possible that Star Wars was not always part of the world mythology?

Star Wars, IV, V and VI are my all time favorite movies but I did not see them until 1997 - twenty years after they were released. Then I fell in love with every image and minute of the movie.

House guests at a construction site

Living in a remodel is really a challenge.

Robin and her family have a great attitude. After the several months of household upset its amazing to me that they are not pulling their hair out. Probably because they have their eye on the prize - two new bathrooms and the setting for a wall mounted HDTV plasma screen - big enough that they will all feel as though they are sitting right on home plate.

Anything that disrupts my home gives me heart burn. Actually I have been very surprised at how well I am doing in their chaos -but that's the key, its not MINE.

I remember how it was when Jim and I added a room to our kitchen. It seemed to me that a crew of strangers prowled in and out of our kitchen for months. Jim and I were the only ones at home - but still, eating in the upstairs bedroom for several months wore thin.

Looking on the bright side:
Yesterday Jim and I made trip to the Teddy Bear Coin Laundry. Cute place with kid-looking bears painted on the wall. With a Starbucks across the parking lot it turned into a pleasant outing - sitting outside reading in the sunshine with a latte while the clothes tumble and dry. What's not to like?

Starting back to normal:
This morning the door bell rang. It was Moses from Sears. He held the magic papework in on the new washer and dryer waiting on his truck. Robin's new laundry room was ready. She had everything measured to a T - all they had to do was attached the various hoses and plug them in. After two long months, that only took fifteen minutes.

The house is humming with the sounds of clothes tossing and tumbling down the hall.

REAL Family

Is this our family - a bit of reality tv.

Jig Saw puzzles are a favorite with the family. This Harry Potter puzzle has proved challenging because it is treated to look 3-D as it goes together - which ramps up up the fun and the competitive urges.

Lessons for Life

Our sports exposure climbs when we visit our grandsons because sports ARE their lives. This trip it's basketball. Danny (Top) and Scotty (Lower) are attending EXCELL, a basketball skills camp every day.















Today we went to the end of the week session.

This is the 27th year for the Excel basketball skills camp run by deLasalle High School basketball coach, Frank Alloco, Sr.
Coach Alloco addressed the assembled players before he handed out the skills awards.

Once he started talking he really caught my attention and I pulled out my pen and jotted class notes on his remarks into my book.

"Key to playing basketball is about developing good habits. Great teams in basketball are about being un-selfish.
Put yourself second - worry about others.
I want to be the one who makes it better for others.

He then went on to say that the theme for the week had been "habits"
Habits are formed by increaing the repetitions.
Have a plan - do it every day.
These are lessons for basketball and for life.

Don't let this camp be the end.
Ask yourself, what do I have to do to get better?
There is never a convenient time to practice - just do it - everyday.
Be consistent
Form your habits socially:
use eye to eye contact
sit in the front row
talk right: act right

Be respectful and let that respect start at home , with your parents and the rest of your family.
Do the right thing because it is the right thing to do."

I wondered it the kids were really listening to the wisdom so I quizzed them over ice-cream on the way home. They answered with total recall!

Wow!

OK! OK! I get it. Its not just sports.

Going West

Jim and I caught a flight to CA at Dulles.
TIP: Jim upset the system at security check-in. He had had a thalium stress test a few days ago and he set off the security alarm. Fortunately the folks at the doctor's office had warned him this might happen. They also gave him a little card to show the security guard.


The extra leg room with Jet Blue is great. Now if they could just guarantee smooth air all the way across the US. These clouds may look peaceful but it was rocking and rolling most of the way. Jim reads right through it while I close my eyes and clutch something.

When we fly Jim sits on the aisle with me in the middle. The woman who slid into the window seat proved a very interesting seat mate. She was quietly talkative. And she told me lots about herself. Turns out she had been born in China of missionary parents and had lived all over the Far and Middle East. Our conversation was wide-ranging from spirituality to our children.

At one point in the conversation there was a reference to monastic life. She told me of a new movie, de Stille - about the French monastery Chartreuse. The name triggered a memory for me. I told her I thought I had been there.

The more she told me about the movie the more I remembered of the day Jim and I drove with Enid to a monastery in Provence. The memory was so vivid. In September 2001 Jim and I were meeting a group from the US to tour Provence. We and the organizer, Enid were already in Italy. 9/11 happened in NYC. Jim and I met Enid as planned in Nice. The group never arrived, in fact they never left the US. Jim and Enid and I rented a car and valiantly followed the itinerary as we waited out the time until we could board our flight back to the US September 28. Our bumbling through Provence is an other story.

Tonight I took the memory to Google to find out more about Chartreuse. Oops. Yes, We went to a monastery but it was not Chartreuse . It is a wonderful memory but it is a memory of ANOTHER place.


Le Thoronet (www.provenceweb.fr/e/vae/thoronet/thoronet.htm)
The day we walked through this very space it was also empty. From somewhere on a lower level a group was singing unaccompanied plain song. The clear pure notes floated through the space. I sat in one of the windows you see in this picture and listened for a long and quieting time. Prayer.

I am grateful to my Jet Blue seatmate Carolyn for reminding me of that lovely peaceful moment in a time of potent angst.

Busy Day

Telling stories for camp in Takoma Park. I tell stories for this group regularly. They are a real challenge because they expect and appreciate new stories. Today I told The Green-Clawed Thunderbird, a Native American story and The Bee-Keeper and the Blue-Eyed Hare, a tale from Scotland. The theme was "amazing animals". This was pushing it for the theme but all turned out well - first time tellings for me and stories they had never heard before. YES!!!!!

Three North Carolina charmers who stopped for the night on their northern adventure trip which will take them to New York City and Boston. The brunette on the right is my neice, Ashton, a rising Junior at NC State Univ. It was fun to be with them because their excitement was palpable. I look forward to hearing the stories of their adventures

Catching a Story

People often ask me, "Where do you find the stories you tell?"

Well, sometimes they walk right by you and you reach out andcatch them.

Like today.

Last year, about this time, I accompanied Jim to his orthopedist. While I was waiting for him I found a wonderful story sitting right next to me. Not only that - when I asked that man, "may I ask you about your tatoos?" he opened my eyes to a whole new world of stories.

Ever since I shamelessly engage strangers in conversations and without fail, the reward is a story.

It happened again today.

I looked up and saw the man standing at the little reception window in the doctor's office. I heard his breathy voice as he leaned in to speak to the receptionist he propped his large, fat, polished stick against the wall. I heard his voice first.

"Let me ask you something," he said to the receptionist. "I noticed that there are signs in the lobby and in the halls - direction signs - with Braille dots underneath. They spell out directions."
" Yes, that's right. " she agreed.

" I don't want to make trouble or anything - but how are blind people going to know to go over and feel those little dots?" A long silence and then they both laughed. What a great question!

He was a hefty. over-middle aged man, wearing, faded jean bib-coveralls and a dark T-shirt. Over that, he wore a studded black leather vest with comemorative ride patches sewn across the back and down the vest fronts.

Under his black Stetson hat his long white hair was pulled back in a pony tail. He had blue eyes behind smallish wire rimmed glasses. Walking was a struggle. He was breathing hard and leaning heavily on his stick-cane as he moved past me to the next seat.

"Great vest." I said.
"Huh."
" I said that is a great vest. Are those patches from motorcycle rides you have made.."
" Yep, on my Harley. The patches are from Rolling Thunder - do you know what that is?
"I sure do." I said, thinking back to the guy I met last year - also a biker who rode in Rolling Thunder.

Here we go, I thought. I know there is a story on the way. And there was!
And I will be telling it - later.
For the moment I am calling the story The Man in the Black Stetson Hat.

Deck Gardening and Deer in the City

Lured by the soft early morning light and inspired by storyteller Granny Sue, I took my camera out to the backyard this morning. Granted I could not hope for the bits of nature Granny Sue has just steps from her back door. She lives in a picturesque holler in West Virginia. We have a small in-town low maintenance yard - so over-planted that there is no room for another thing. We are growing tomatoes in pots on our deck.








As usual we have pots of flowering New Guinea Impatients on our deck. They are colorful, hardy and ask for very little care. I am city-bred - this is my kind of gardening. Stick them in, leave them be and enjoy the results.





To help the environment and shrink our carbon foot print - we are growing tomatoes. All right, its a small step.
We are also protesting the pathetic taste in those force-grown hard rocks they pass off as tomatoes.
Oh, for one of the white bread and mayonnaise with thick slices of home grown tomatoes sandwiches my grand-mother made for summer lunch when I was a kid in North Carolina.

OK! Ok! these do look anemic - but we have hopes for them.





These look more promising.

The deck does not have enough good sun and - - we need a re-fresher course in removing the
"suckers" .








There are nice clumps of Hostas beside the deck -

because the deer have not found them yet.

It is only a matter of time.


When I was a youngster the closest I got to a deer was Bambi - the book and the movie - there were no live deer in the city of Charlotte.
Not so where I live today. There are herds of deer roaming the environs of the greater metro area around the Nation's Capitol.
Deer saunter through our neighborhoods and feast in our well-planted, manicured suburban yards.

From a recent article in the Washington Post: " a woman police officer was driving along Massachusetts Ave. Near the Vice President's residence she slowed when she noticed three deer on the sidewalk. She stopped her car, concerned for their safety. They did not move. They waited - until the light turned red - and then they crossed." Our son Jimmy quipped: "I will really worry when I see one push the change button." That's right out of a Gary Larson "Far-Side" cartoon.

Jim and I were stopped in traffic on a neighborhood cross street last week. We noticed a fawn standing in a yard near our car - eyeing the foliage. Then the young deer saw lunch - a thick stand of orange daylilies growing along a weathered wooden fence. She glided over, sniffed, and then began daintily biting off one blossom at a time, carefully chewing it and then moving to the next. She looked so natural, so adorable!

Remember The Yearling? Wasn't this Gregory Peck's dilemma in that movie?

Getting Another Drivers License

Hard to believe but it is time for me to re-new my driver's license. Has it really been five years since my last one? Where did the time go?

Anyway, five years ago after I went to re-new my driver's license I wrote this story.

My NEW Driver's License
I went to the Motor Vehicle Express Office to renew my Maryland driver's license – Express is just part of the name of this place not a description of the service so while I waited in line for an hour I had time to think about my history in whole process of being licensed to drive a car.

I got my first driver's license in 1953 by taking driver education my junior year at Central High School in Charlotte, NC. The class was a breeze.

Four years later when it was time to renew my driver's license I was a married woman. Jim and I were living in Baltimore. Two weeks before my 20th birthday I was hugely pregnant with our first child. Jim drove me to the MVA on a hot, hot, hot July afternoon. When I got to the counter and produced my NC driver's license - ready to renew - the man behind the counter informed me that since I was not yet 21 - I was under age by Maryland law - "Your husband will have to sign for you", he said. I was livid.

"Look at me", I argued - pointing to a very large belly. "I am married, I am having a baby – why should I have to have someone sign for me to drive." He was unsympathetic to the insult. "It's the law, Maam."

Jim urged me to calm down, " just go ahead and get the license and be done with it."

I had never heard the word feminist – but I knew I did not like this. " No." I was adamant. I refused to have Jim sign as my guardian. So I left without a MD license.

I called the North Carolina Motor Vehicle office and renewed my NC license by mail - using my full name Ellouise Diggle Schoettler.

And thus it was for the next twelve years. Since Jim was in the military I could drive under my home state license. By the time Jim resigned from the Air Force we were once again living in Maryland. When it was time to re-new my driver's license I took the MD driver's examand passed it with flying colors. Since then I just go in and renew every four years - sign my full name Ellouise Diggle Schoettler, have my new picture taken, and walk out with a license to drive.

This week when the woman handed me the card and said please sign at the x - without thinking I signed it Ellouise Schoettler. When I saw what I had done – I was flustered, a little unnerved. I started to ask her to redo the card so that I could sign my FULL name - but I didn't. I shrugged. After 46 years that IS who I am.

I was laughing to myself about that while I stood in the next line waiting for my turn to have my picture taken.

I took out my cell phone, pulled off my clip earring and called Jim to tell him about it. He didn't get it at first – - then he chuckled and thanked me for calling to tell him.

About that time the woman called out "next." I sat down in front of the camera. I straightened my scarf and I took off my glasses. I even managed a smile. And then sat on the bench to wait to pick up my new license.

I put my hand in my slacks pocket - just checking for the car key. Yes, the key was there and, so was my earring.

Now, for the next five years, on the best picture I have ever had taken by one of those one-shot cameras -one of my parts is missing - my left earring.

But I know who the whole is -- Ellouise Schoettler ©2002

NEW CDs - TANGY and Rose

June 1 Speakeasydc released their first CD,

TANGY, best of Speakeasy. Ten original stories recorded during performances at the Speakeasy.
Tellers: eddier sarfaty, fritz stolzenback, meredith maslich, twain dooley, stephanie garibaldi, kevin boggs, josh lefkowitz, julie hantman, jon spelman and ellouise schoettler.

I am so happy the included my story, "In Over My Head". I was and it makes a good story.

Second Hand Rose - my new solo CD. I am so excited about this program that I produced the CD myself from the Strathmore Mansion performance so it would be it available while I wait for the commercial edition.
>

Susannah Holstein wrote on her blog, Granny Sue's News and Reviews:

I was supposed to be paying the bills, but instead I was listening to a CD by storyteller Ellouise Schoettler. I remember when she began telling. She and her family were regulars at the West Virginia Storytelling Festival.That was 10 years ago. Today Ellouise is a pro. Her stories were smooth, nice finished edges, good pacing, and the interaction with her audience was evident from their laughter during well-placed pauses. The performance centered around stories about textiles and textile art, from handmade to crafted items. The rich texture of family threaded the pieces together to make a seamless whole.Ellouise is a teller to watch or rather listen for (although I would bet she's fun to watch too).

Grape Vine Story Fest

Why would Jim and I head into the Virginia countryside on a Saturday morning? For storytelling ofcourse. Jim took this picture of me to mark the occasion - the first ever Grape Vine Story Fest and for the record for the IRS.


Saturday June 16 the sun was bright, the weather

weather clear, birds were chirping in the trees, frogs singing in the pond, and people gathering - a perfect day for storytelling at Grayhaven Winery, Gum Spring, Virginia.

Organizers and tellers arrived early for the FIRST GrapeVine Storyfest - a new storytelling festival sponsored by the Virgina Storytelling Alliance. (VASA)




VASA president, Storyteller Megan Hicks welcomed everyone and then opened the program.

Great line-up of storytellers for the two day Story Fest:

Denise Bennett (VA), Willa Brigham (NC), Ralph Chatham (VA), Margaret Chatham (VA), Lorna Czarnota (NY), Gypsy Moon Tellers (VA), Lisa Hollingsworth (VA), Judith Onesty (VA), Lynn Ruehlmann (VA), Ellouise Schoettler (MD), Tales in Tandem (VA), Kim Weitkamp (VA), Donna Will (VA).

I was glad to be one of the tellers for the Saturday. I had a great time, telling my stories, meeting the other tellers, and spending a day in the country.

Life Slam

Life is slamming me

against a wall

again.

They say my mama has colon cancer.

Isn't it enough to be 92, legally blind and have failing kidneys.

God, what are you thinking?

I keep focused on my to do list.

Hoping for some kind of control

somewhere in life.

That's a joke.

Days are too short!

It is just a list!.

Is any of this stuff worth it?

Down Memory Lane

Kay took my picture on the stoop outside 619 N. Washington Street.

Jim and I started our life together here.

In 1955 when Jim and I got married we moved into the first floor apartment of this Baltimore two story row house which was two blocks from Hopkins Hospital. Jim was in his third year of medical school and I would be working in a research lab in the hospital. And we stayed in that spot until July 1957 when Jim graduated and we moved to Brooklyn, New York for his internship. We started our family there.

We brought our first child Jimmy home to this apartment three days after I delivered him at Hopkins Hospital. Jim drove us the two blocks in our first car, a 1949 Packard. You only see those in old gangster movies.

Returning

We are going back to Hopkiins today - for Jim's 50th Class Reunion from Hopkins Medical School. How can this be? It was just yesterday.

We will see classmates - look into old faces and see them as they were in 1957 - at least I hope that's what people will see when they look into my eyes.

I am hoping for memories, laughs and stories. The real stuff of reunions.

I am set to enjoy being there THEN - again.

Orchids

Once I thought orchids only came in a corsage. Certainly they were not something you could live with everyday. That was then - this is now. You can buy orchids for a bragain price at the Safeway or spend UP at a florist.

I like to have them around - to watch the unfolding of the blossoms along a stem. They engage you. Then they reward you with such gorgeous color. That's one change I like about life today - I don't have to wait for a dance for an orchid - - - and then keep the soggy box with the wilting orchid in the refrigerator.

Should I ask if they were flown in - or grown locally? Would it help my carbon footprint if I walked to the Safeway to buy it? Are these the questions that will make a different in the long run?

DC Wall

Found this wall in Stead Park on P Street.

I Missed It

I missed it.

I missed it!

I missed May Day!

Jim and I went to a lecture Monday evening about "our crazy busy lives". Dr. Hallowell says "take charge" and points to the culprits - the cell phone, iPods, Blackberrys, email, internet and etc. "Turn them off," he says.

I agree!

I did!

and look what happened.

I missed May Day!

I laughed as I reminded Jim that the doctor had circulated an email list during the lecture and that we , like everybody else in the audience, had signed up.

They say you write about what you know.

Could it be? Is it possible?

That the good doctor also has a crazy busy life too?

Busking

Arles Street Musicians.

Jim and I are staying home this summer, I am sad to say. So I find myself wistfully flipping through tourist shots from other trips.

The Pink Wheelbarrow

"It's never too late to be what you might have been." T.S. Eliot

The Dollhouse

A shift of topic.

These are days when its really worth noticing the every day - and celebrate the appearance of Spring and a memory.

When I drive into our driveway I see this doll house in the neighbor's yard - and I am glad a new little girl is loving it.

Jim made it for Karen and Robin in 1964. He made it big so they could make their own furniture for it. They used big nails, scraps of lumber, and bits of fabric out of the sewing basket. They set up shop in our garage and designed and hammered and pretended. Lots of things happened in that house. The ceilings of the two floors were high enough for a Barbie to stand up - that had been one of the requirements.

After they out grew playing with dolls the dollhouse doubled as a book case/catch all in the rec room. Then it was moved to the basement. It was amazing how much stuff could be stored inside it.

Last year we noticed that the neighbor children were really the right size. So we brought up the dollhouse and offered it to them.

How could you turn it down?

This doll house is experienced.

It has staying power.

Just like all the things that Jim has builds.

Hindsight

Before April 16 I would not have noticed this car in front of me at the stop light, much less have taken a picture of it. Now, there seem to be reminders everywhere.

Reminders that lives are changed.

An article in Inside Higher Education explores how works in creative writing classes can reveal possible psychological problems and the challenges teachers face when these signs occur.

The article begins:

Cho Seung-Hui, the senior Virginia Tech English major who apparently killed 32 people on campus Monday before turning the gun on himself , seems to have fancied himself a writer. Albeit one with grotesque tastes: AOL’s blog published two of his short plays Tuesday, one of which, “Mr. Brownstone,” features characters who fantasize about killing a teacher and “watch[ing] him bleed.” The second, “Richard McBeef” discusses pedophilia and concludes with a stepfather killing a 13-year-old boy soon after the boy’s attempt to forcibly stuff a banana cereal bar down the stepfather’s throat.
http://insidehighered.com/news/2007/04/18/writing for the full article.

Too Much; Too Much

Last week Jim and I drove home from North Carolina over Fancy Gap and then turned from Highway 77 onto Highway 81. We come that way to enjoy the beautiful vistas of the Blue Ridge mountains and the Shenandoah Valley.

Monday a 23 year old young man shattered that silence with gun shots in Blacksburg, VA and killed 32 - students and professors - at Virginia Tech - and then shot himself.

Since then - minute by minute - the media piles up the details. Pictures of the lost, heartbreaking stories of promising futures stopped before they blossomed. A community stunned and grieving; a college reeling from this blow. How could this happen here?

Along with the story of the victims emerges the story of the shooter - a quiet loner with a raging storm inside him. And worse, it comes out, some recognized the danger. Some were afraid he was a threat -to himself they thought- - - because anything larger was unthinkable.

He was reported.

Nothing was done.

He had rights.

What could they do?

A time bomb ticked on.

He had rights. He had rights. He had guns. Bought as easily as a new suit. He had three forms of ID and the money. He had guns. He had guns. He had guns to go with his rights.

BOOM!

What about those others? What about their rights - to live.

Have we lost sight of something here?

North Carolina Dogwoods

Brings back memories and makes me feel good to see them.

Lehigh Valley Storytelling Festival

Back at home - tired and happy - after a wonderful week-end in Bethlehem, PA for the Lehigh Valley Storytelling Festival. It was a very full week-end.

The Friday evening story concert was at Godfrey Daniel's Coffeehouse - a good place for storytelling - seats more than 75 but still feels intimate, and its a warm, cozy atmosphere where you can feel a connection between teller and audience.

In an early pre-concert Charles Kiernan performed as Mark Twain. He actually favors Twain, add to that his luxurious head of long white hair, period white suit ,and stogie - he becomes Twain. It was as if Samuel Clemmons had risen up and come to give one of his famous recitations. I enjoyed the style and presentation, as well as the humor. Of course there was the jumping frog and some bits from Clemmons time on the Mississippi - all well done.



The evening program paired Bill Harley, nationally known, grammy winning, storyteller- musician with “emerging artist”, storyteller Ellouise Schoettler. ( at left - Ellouise and Bill)

I told three personal stories, two of family life and the third the story of my recent encounter with a Harley-riding "tattooed-man". I felt very connected to the audience and they listened a good performance from me. Then they told me know they liked the stories. That felt good.

Bill Harley is a main attraction because he does not disappoint his audiences. Stories, music, his warmth and humor - what more could you ask. "Barbie's Head is Missing" was a real crowd pleaser as well as his adventure -" walking to the mall". I was very touched by his story of returning to a childhood neighborhood where everything was changed and he felt totally strange.

Saturday morning I sat in on David Joe Miller's "business" workshop - - rich with tips- which he has self-tested. I admire how he has re-framed his experience in the car business to serve his storytelling career. The material was on target (with valuable hand-outs) and he was an enthusiastic and generous presenter. He closed with a story and I really appreciated his "pure" southern storytelling.

Jim and I did some sightseeing in the early afternoon, checking out the old Moravian Village, the Banana Factory Arts Center, (even stopped to watch some of the glass blowing) and stopped in to the Moravian Book Store - glad it was near closing because I would have been overcome. One disappointment - near-by thrift shops were closed.

Made it to Bill Harley's afternoon program for kids at the Bethlehem Library. He played his guitar and sang, involved the kids in simple lyrics, told stories they loved - especially the one about Pirate Annie who plunders "underwear". There was lots of laughing as parents and kids really enjoyed themselves.

The Saturday evening program was "Girls Night Out" on the Lehigh University campus. In “Two Cronies” Cora Hooks and Mary Wright tackled material about women turning 50. It all rang true emotionally. The program was funny, poignant, and well done.

Before Judith Black's performance there was a Wild Women Reception in the lobby.While people were munching chocolate Storyteller Kathy Pierce rose up and prompted the group to tell stories about wild women from their lives. At first the women were hesitant but Kathy kept cheer leading til stories started to come forth - and once the spigots were open there was no stopping the flow. A warm and moving personal sharing.

Judith Black performed her long and complex piece about menopause - really funny as well as poignant. She included three different versions of Snow White (African, Italian and Celtic) from the mother's point of view. Whoa! I enjoyed it; I admired it; and I was glad to experience it.

There were Fringe performances Saturday afternoon which I heard were quite good. I missed Sunday’s Sacred Stories and a program tailored for April Fool’s day because I had another commitment in Maryland.

It was a full STORY week-end. Some of my most compelling memories are of the Lehigh Valley storytellers -- warm, friendly, supportive and welcoming. I was talking with a participant, a newbie teller, Sunday morning and she told me how glad she was to have attended this week-end. " I found a real community of storytellers." All of them worked hard to pull this off and it seemed seamless. That's an illusion that takes some doing. Bravo.

I am so glad to have been a part of this wonderful event. .

Nothing Like a Good Tub

They don't make tubs like they used to. Tubs with the confidence to stand on their own four feet. Tubs with rounded backs where you could lay back and soak for hours.

My grandmother's house was built in 1915. She had two bath tubs with claw feet. I loved climbing up so that I could step down into the deep water - -and spash around for a good long time.

You could sail away in a tub like this.

I wish we had the space in our house for one of these tubs. But, we don't.

Some memories you just can't take home.

Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolff - Still Sets my Stomach in a Knot

Our grand-daughter was playing the role of Martha, the screaming bitch-wife, in Edward Albee's difficult play, Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolff - - So we went over-night to her college to see the play.

I have to admit I dreaded going.
I hate this play.
I hated the movie too.
An evening watching WAOVW is like setting yourself up for a drama-thrashing.
You sit and watch two couples guzzling amazing amounts of booze while they verbally whip each other - and you absorb the blows with them. This play ties my stomach in a knot.
And - leaves me in a depressed mood for days.

Juliana stepped up for the challenege of the role of Martha and played it impressively well. She skillfully put herself aside and brought the character to life. I was proud of and for her.

I suffered through the three hour performance - - proud of Juliana's accomplishment while -- hating every minute of the story - - just as I have when-ever I have seen this play - - - grand-daughter or not.

Later when we were talking about the play, the author and other tidbits of drama history about it - Juliana told us that Edward Albee saw "who's afraid of Virginia Wolff" scrawled on the wall in a public bathroom and it inspired him to write the play.

Makes sense to me.

Thinking a fantasy world might be a good antidote to the weeks of living with Martha "braying" in her head - I gave Juliana a present - Inkheart!

Stepping into Ink World might blot out stuff that came from words scrawled on a toilet wall.

At the least she can throw it at something.

Hearts on the Wall

Hearts on the Wall
Ellouise Schoettler
digital photo
Berkeley, CA. 01/ 2007

One way to make sweeping easier

or

Its all in your perspective.

Giants Among Us

I received the notice: "Your order has been shipped." I am watching the mail. Amazon is sending me two books about a new interest of mine. Giants.

A few months ago my husband and I were flying back from North Carolina. It was a Sunday evening. We were tired. Our seats were in the back of the plane. That is not my favorite spot, so I was feeling a bit irritable.

Jim was on the aisle, I was in the middle and until almost the last minute the window seat was empty. I was hoping against the "this is a full plane" announcements that we would luck out and no one would take that seat.

And then I saw him coming.
I knew - - I just knew - - he was our window seat-mate.

He was tall, and I mean tall, about six feet five inches. He stooped a little to avoid touching the low plane-ceiling. He must have weighed in at over 300 pounds. I could see it was all muscle because he was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I could also see that his legs and arms were rather fuzzy. He was a furry giant.

His hair was rusty blond and he was smiling - - a little-boy, winning smile. My misgivings must have been written on my face because he said, "Yeah, I know, I am a bit of an over-grown boy - but it will work out." For you maybe, I thought.

We raised all the arm rests. I moved closer to Jim. We all three squeezed in together. Being in the middle, I was a bit like the filling in a manwich. We were suddenly close friends. We had a pleasant conversation and sort of enjoyed the ride to Baltimore.

This encounter set me thinking.

Giants are not myths - - they are still walking the earth.

I should tell people.

Missing Inkworld

I have finished reading Inkspell. My copy was a heavy hardback book that felt good in my hands. I read the last words on page 635, closed the book and felt a little lonely to be leaving Inkworld.

I was completely drawn into the world of this book - now I am missing it all - the places and the characters. And, I am a bit unsettled - there is a surprise twist at the close.

The third book, Inkdawn, will not be released until 2008. I know that is good marketing - not to release the third volume until after the movie, Inkheart, is released - it seems so l o n g to wait.

A good book - a good story - special gifts to nourish the imagination.

Home Again

Is it possible that this time last week we were still in Fresno and I had one more set of Second Hand Rose to tell for the Rogue Festival?

We had another bumpy ride home on Monday. Jim thanked the pilot for setting it down safely. He just nodded and said it had taken "a lot of wrist action." With 25 mph winds at landing we could tell. Enough of that for awhile.


Are you ever hungry for a book that will completely engage you - - capture your imagination? While we were in California I finished reading INKHEART - and was really sorry to come to the end - - except I had volume 2 of the trilogy, INKSPELL in my hands. I had taken the precaution of tracking it down at a local bookstore before we left Robin's so I would be ready. INKSPELL is even better than INKHEART. (but you need to read them both and in order for the full effect) My imagination is more engaged by these books than by anything else in a long time. Its like I was waiting for them.

Hardly caught my breath at home when I was back into action with stories and paper-work. I am happy to have a lot of work right now but it is hard to juggle everything - to keep switching hats constantly so all the balls stay in the air. Storyteller Elizabeth Ellis says a storyteller has to be three people - artistic creator, storyteller, and business manager and she warns that the trick is to keep those three folks meeting in committee so you can maintain your balance. I am calling a meeting - and they had better all be there