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Thursday, January 31, 2008

English Martyrs?


The Church of Our Lady of the English Martyrs, as it was in 1945, when my mother and father were married there January 11th.

It was wartime, and the blitz was on. They grabbed someone off the street for a witness and in the grandeur of this church, they were married. It was perhaps not the fanciest of ceremonies, but the bond created in this church lasted for 61 years and created 13 children, 36 grandchildren and 38 great-grandchildren (and counting).

They lived in Royston after their marriage, in a haunted house, but that is another story.




The interior of the church today.

Who were the English Martyrs, I wondered? The nme always sounded romantic to me when my parents spoke of the church where they were married, btu I never asked what it meant.

Today I looked online and found that the name represents a large number of people who lost their lives in England resisting the Reformation of the church.

Thumbs Down to Nextel (Sprint)

I've been a customer for years. Since 2000, I think. My son used to work for Nextel, so most of the family had Nextel phones. After all these years, I am one unhappy customer.

Last summer, Larry lost his cell phone. I called to let them know, and to see about another phone. Well. Seems they can turn your phone off, no problem. BUT to get a replacement meant either a)pay 199.00, or b)renew the contract for another 2 years.

I didn't want to renew at that point. I wanted to look at other options because I think my plan is more expensive, and Nextel/Sprint's coverage in West Virginia is much inferior to other companies. So why would I pay $200 for a phone when I might not be using that company and phone in 4 months?

I had the phone turned off, but I had to pay out the contract until December or pay $200 for early termination of the contract. Either way, Nextel/Sprint wanted to get their $200 from me.

In December I called to cancel the phone as soon as the contract expired. "No problem," the phone rep told me, "I've got it in the computer and it won't be on your next bill."

Next bill comes, there's the phone still listed. I'm still being charged. I called. "You can't do that through Customer Service," I'm told, although that is the only number listed on my bill. "You have to talk to Account Services. They're closed." Great.

Now, I'm gone from home from 7am to 7pm every day. In the time left to me I have to pay bills, make phone calls, write, clean house, do laundry, grocery shopping--everything. I can't do stuff like this at work, because each time I call Nextel I'm on the phone 20 minutes or more. Lunch? I seldom if ever take my lunch break. I realize I should have called back, but I thought, hey they've got it in their records that I called and what the problem was. My mistake.

So today I'm off work, and I call back to get it straightened out.

"You'll have to pay for it," I'm told. "You didn't call back." I explained the whole story, how I was told it was taken care of. The operator was unmoved.

"I wasn't present at that call," she said. "I don't know what he told you."

"But I was present!" I told her. "And I'm telling you what he said."

"Sorry. I have to go by what's in my records. And you didn't call back."

"So you'd rather lose someone who's been a customer for 8 years instead of clearing $78.00 in contested fees?" I asked.

Yep. They would. And so they will. And I will post this to my blog and tell everyone I know just how Nextel/Sprint treats its long-term customers.

It's a shame, really. Shame on them.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

West Virginia Storytelling News


Lots of things are happening on the storytelling front in West Virginia. Here's a few: The new title from Mountain Girl Press, Self-Rising Flowers, includes a story by West Virginia storyteller Granny Sue (that would be me!). Price of the book is $12.95, and can be purchased by contacting Granny Sue at susannaholstein@yahoo.com
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Donna Wilson and I are working on plans for a second year of Stories at the River's Edge. The grant has been completed and submitted to ORBI and we are hopeful that our request will be granted to allow us to expand this small festival to 2 days. For information, contact Donna at 1-740-992-7380, or me at 1-866-643-1353 (toll-free).
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The WV Book Festival planning is also underway. This year's featured teller is Donna Washington of Durham, NC. Donna has been a featured teller at the National Storytelling Festival and has published 3 children's books and 7 CDs. For more information about our featured teller, go to http://www.donnawashington.com/ For more information about the WV Book Festival, go to http://www.wvbookfestival.org/
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Fairmont State University Falcon Center
April 4-5, 2008
Fairmont State University and WV Storytelling Guild present Bil Lepp and Joseph Sobol
Mountain State Storytelling Institute
What is the Mountain State Storytelling Institute?
The Institute is a two-day conference featuring scholars and storytelling professionals. Fairmont State University, FSU’s Frank and Jane Gabor West Virginia Folklife Center and the WV Storytelling Guild are committed to the use of storytelling to preserve Appalachian culture. The intent of this institute is to provide academic, professional and personal development for those interested in storytelling as scholarship, art, a teaching tool, and a profession or an avocation. Workshops will feature members of the West Virginia Storytelling Guild and FSU Faculty.

How can I participate?
Adults can register through the FSU Community Education Homepage; click on Mountain State Storytelling Institute. Students may register at the door. ID required.

For scholarship information contact Dr. Kirk: fkirk@fairmontstate.edu

Fees: $35 for adults/$15 for students

Tentative Schedule Friday, April 4
8:00 – 8:45 Registration 9:00
Institute Welcome and Opening: Introduce theme and institute questions
9:30 – 10:30 Visiting Scholar – Joseph Sobol
10:45 – 11: 45 Concurrent Sessions
Noon Lunch on your own
1:00 – 2:00 Concurrent Sessions
2:15 – 3:15 Concurrent Sessions
3:30 – 4:30 Story Swap featuring FSU storytellers
5:00 Dinner on your own
7:30 – 9:00 Storytelling Presentation with Lepp and Sobol and members of the WVSG (Free to the public)

Saturday, April 5
8:30 Registration
9:30 -10:30
Keynote speaker – Bil Lepp
10: 45 – 11:45 Concurrent Sessions
Noon Lunch on your own
1:00 – 2:00 Concurrent Sessions
2:15 – 3:13 Concurrent Sessions
3:30 – 4:30 Concurrent Sessions
4:30 – 5:00 Closing session: The Power of Story: Transmitting Culture and Transforming Lives

The Storytelling Presentation on Friday, April 4 at 7:30 p.m. is FREE and OPEN TO THE PUBLIC For more information contact: Dr. Francene Kirk, 304-367-4170, fkirk@fairmontstate.edu

What will I learn?
Keynote Scholar Joseph Sobol will address the preservation of culture through story and storytelling as scholarship. An artist-in-residence for many years in North and South Carolina, Sobol received a Masters in Folklore from the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill, and a Ph.D. in Performance Studies from Northwestern University. His book on the American storytelling revival, The Storytellers’ Journey, was published in 1999 by the University of Illinois Press. Sobol is the Director of the Graduate Program in Storytelling at East Tennessee State University.

Keynote Speaker Bil Lepp will address the preservation of personal history through story. Lepp is a five-time champion of the West Virginia Liars Contest. He tells original, hilarious, tales that will bring a smile to the face of even the most ill-humored person. Bil has been a Featured Teller at the National Storytelling Festival six times, and at The Smithsonian Folklife Festival. Bil is the author of three books of tales, four audio collections, and he has had stories published in several national magazines.

West Virginia Storytelling Guild Presenters
Rich Knoblich will address the crafting and adapting of folktales. Knoblich’s stories have been published in Goldenseal , Reading Today, and Appalachian Life magazines. He holds a B.A. in Education from West Liberty State College and an M.A. of Humanities Literature from California State University, CA. Rich is the recipient of a WV Humanities Council Fellowship for his project, Appalachian Culture: Texture, Text, and Context.

Gail Herman will present “Coal Talk,” a community history project. Herman wrote, with help from Elaine Eff of Maryland’s Cultural Preservation Office, and directed Coal Talk, an oral history project located in the Appalachian Mountains of Western Maryland. Herman holds a Ph.D. from the University of Connecticut.

Kevin Cordi will examine dialogue, “storying” and literature. Cordi holds an M.A. in secondary education with an emphasis in storytelling and literacy from the University of Akron and is a Ph. D. candidate at The Ohio State University. He has contributed to the Kennedy Center’s ArtsEdge, English Journal , Storytelling World and Storytelling Magazine. Cordi received the Ann Izard Storyteller’s Choice Award for his book Raising Voices: Youth Storytelling Groups and Troupes.

Ilene Evans will examine the world of symbolic language and hidden meanings in the African American context. Evans is a professional storyteller, playwright, choreographer, actor, dancer and teaching artist. She is the artistic director of Voices from the Earth, an organization which creates historical works of theatre for schools and community groups. Ilene is known throughout WV for her presentations as Harriett Tubman and Memphis Tennessee Garrison

Susanna “Granny Sue” Holstein will share Appalachian and British ballads through performance and discussion and will explore puppets as storytelling partners. Susanna Holstein holds a B.S. in Education (Secondary Social Studies) from WV State College and an MLIS from the University of South Carolina. Holstein was a featured regional teller for the 2000 National Storytelling Network National Conference. She has contributed chapters in several books including “Storytelling with Puppets” in Telling Stories to Children published by NSN Press.

Suzi Whaples will discuss the use of the body to bring stories to life. Whaples, known professionally as “Mama”, is a national storyteller, humorist, and conference speaker with 30 years of experience in public speaking, teaching and entertainment. She organized the “Mountain Women,” and in 1998, Mama & The Mountain Women, a troupe of Appalachian storytellers, were chosen National Storytelling Champions.

Andy Fraenkel will examine stories across cultures and in healing. Fraenkel holds a B.A. degree in Theater & Film from City University of New York and has a background in regional theater and Off-Broadway. For the last fifteen years he has traveled extensively offering multicultural storytelling programs and workshops at schools K-12, colleges, libraries, museums and special events.

JoAnn Dadisman will examine using storytelling as precursor to written narrative. Dadisman holds a Bachelor’s degree from Shippensburg State College (PA) in Secondary Education. She holds a Master’s degree in English Education from West Virginia University and has done post-graduate work there, with an emphasis on Appalachian Studies. She joined the WVU faculty as the English 102 and English 103 Coordinator for the Center for Writing Excellence. She is also co-director for the National Writing Project at WVU.

June Riffle will examine preserving community history through mixed media storytelling. Riffle graduated from Fairmont State with a Bachelor’s degree in Secondary Education. She then earned a Master’s degree in Reading from WVU. June performs with JoAnn Dadisman as “Mountain Echoes.” They have told stories to families at the Appalachian Studies Conference, Sumter campus of the University of South Carolina, and presented at the Popular Culture Conference in 2002.

Additional sessions will be presented by FSU faculty and students.
This project is being presented by Fairmont State University with financial assistance from The West Virginia Humanities Council, a state affiliate of the National Endowment for the Humanities. Any views, findings, conclusions or recommendations expressed in this brochure do not necessarily represent those of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Storytelling Blogs

Sally Crandall wrote some very kind words on her blog about my performance at the SOCO SpeakEasy in Columbus a couple weeks ago. Thank you, Sally!

Some other storytelling blogs out there with information all storytellers need to read:

Priscilla Howe posted some excellent information about the business of storytelling on her blog this week:
http://storytellingnotes.blogspot.com/

Sean's post about roadblocks to success in storytelling will make you think about your own path:
http://wheresmyquarter.blogspot.com/2008/01/roadblocks-to-your-storytelling-success.html

Sally Crandall has an interesting article about TV, Reading and Storytelling on her blog:
http://sallycrandall.typepad.com/heads_or_tales/2008/01/storytelling-re.html

Good advice about using a mike on Rachel Hedman's blog:
http://www.storytellingadventures.blogspot.com/

Limor writes about storytelling, games and the importance of narrative:
http://lisb.wordpress.com/

Eric Wolf's blog is like a quilt of information for tellers:
http://www.ericwolf.org/

How do I find all these blogs? I go to http://www.storynet.org,/ click on Resources, then on Storytelling Blogs. You can set up RSS feeds too if you're tech-savvy. All are definitely worth reading.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Into the Fairy Ring

The Road to Fairyland
by
Ernest Thompson Seton

Do you seek the road to Fairyland
I'll tell; it's easy, quite.
Wait till a yellow moon gets up
O'er purple seas by night,
And gilds a shining pathway
That is sparkling diamond bright
Then, if no evil power be nigh
To thwart you, out of spite,
And if you know the very words
To cast a spell of might,
You get upon a thistledown,
And, if the breeze is right,
You sail away to Fairyland
Along this track of light.

It's getting close to time to think about the wee folk. March isn't far off, and then as the flowers start to bloom there likely will be fairies hiding under petals.





In our meadow, there are rings of dark green that people around here call "fairy rings." These are the places where the fairyfolk dance at midnight, or so they say. Their tiny feet enrich the earth and make the grass grow greener. (There is a vvery mundane and completely unmagical explanation for this at Plantanswers.)



There are also places in the meadow, and, oddly, in the median of the interstate where toadstools grow in circles--also called fairy rings. The fairies, so some people say, live under these toadstools. I've looked but never seen any, but then I didn't have my glasses on so they may have been there.


Fairies can be a force to reckon with--the beautiful ballad of Tam Lin certainly illustrates that. Many plants have fairy superstitions attached to them. According to The Land of Faery :

Foxglove--the name supposedly is a derivative of "Little Folks' Glove, and it is believed that fairies wear the florets as hats or mittens.

Primroses can make the invisible visible. Eating primroses may help you see the fairies.

Ragwort is sometimes used as a horse by the fairyfolk.

Thyme was part of a recipe for a brew to make one see the fairies.

Cowslips are loved and protected by the fairies. They help one to find hidden fairy gold.

Pansies were used in a love potion by Oberon, a fairy king.

Many people connect clover with fairies. If you wear a four-leaf clover, for example, you are supposed to be able to see the fairies. You can use the four-leaf variety to break a fairy spell.

St. John's Wort--if you step on it a fairy horse may rear up and carry you away to who-knows-where. What does St. John's wort look like? See the flower photo at the top of the page (from Wikipedia).

There are so many good books and websites about fairies and magical creatures. I compiled this list for a children's program so it includes craft books:

The Hidden Folk: Stories of Fairies, Dwarves, Selkies, and other Hidden Beings by Lise Lunge-Larsen
Boston : Houghton Mifflin, 2004.

Meeting the Other Crowd: The Fairy Stories of Hidden Ireland by Edmund Lenihan
New York : Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, c2003.

Fairy Crafts: 23 Enchanting Toys, Gifts, Costumes and Party Decorations by Heidi Boyd
Cincinnati, Ohio : North Light Books, c2003.

Swan Sister: Fairy Stories Retold by Ellen Datlow
New York : Simon & Schuster Books For Young Readers, 2003.

Twelve Fabulously Funny Fairy Tale Plays by Justin McCory Martin
New York : Scholastic Professional Books, c2002.

The Book of Wizard Parties: in Which the Wizard Shares the Secrets of Creating Enchanted Gatherings By Janice Eaton Kilby
New York : Lark Books : Distributed in Canada by Sterling Pub., c2002.

A First Book of Fairy Tales by Mary Hoffman
New York : DK Publishing, 2001

An Encyclopedia of Fairies: Hobgoblins, Brownies, Bogies and Other Supernatural Creatures by Katharine M. Briggs
New York : Pantheon Books, c1976.

The Broonie, Silkies, and Fairies: A Traveler’s Tales of the Otherworld by Duncan Williamson
New York : Harmony Books, 1987, c1985.

Crafts from Your Favorite Fairy Tales by Kathy Ross
Brookfield, Conn. : Millbrook Press, c1997.

And some websites:

Fairies, Fairies, Fairies--lists poems, stories, lore and more.

eFairies.com is an alphabetical listing of fairy names from legends and stories.

ArtPassion includes many beautiful artworks featuring fairies.


From Encyclopedia Mythica comes a possible source for the word "Fairy".


And at Quotegarden, a whole page of fairy quotes, including this one:

The fairy poet takes a sheet
Of moonbeam, silver white;
His ink is dew from daisies sweet,
His pen a point of light.
Joyce Kilmer

Sunday, January 27, 2008

A Weekend Gone Too Fast


Some weekends just don't go the way you plan--they go better.


We started out on Saturday with a hazy plan: go to town for breakfast and grocery shopping; come home and tidy up, then spend the evening working on a new program of ballads and storytelling with friends.

Chester's Store--what a place!

Part One (breakfast in town) went according to plan. We then moseyed over to Rachel's antique store to say hello and check out any new arrivals. As it turned out, our friends were at Rachel's, and in the course of browsing, decided to go to the mecca of junkers, Chester Bills' store in St. Mary's, OH. A mere hour's drive. We spent a long time looking and looking and looking, and left with a new item to add to the cabin-building display we're working on--a foot adze, complete with handle.

Dinner, and an hour's drive back to Ripley,coffee at the coffee shop, a little time online and the day was done. Not exactly as planned, but better.


Today was the day to work with Donna Wilson on the grant application for the Stories at the River's Edge festival. We figured we'd get the groceries we forgot about yesterday on our way home.

Our new festival got off to a good start last year, so this year Donna and I are planning to double the number of events and storytellers. We spent a good afternoon working on the grant--what I thought would take two hours turned into four because our conversation would ramble off into other facets of storytelling! And on the way home? Forgot the groceries again.

This evening I've been working on my next (long overdue) newsletter. There's a lot of news--the problem is what to put in, what to leave out and what to save for the next round.

The dogs decided to freshen up the atmosphere--they've treed a skunk, and as the song says, it's stinking to high heaven! Maybe I should add skunk stories and lore to the newsletter.

And maybe tomorrow on the way home from work I can get the groceries...

Time for bed!

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Some Favorite Winter Photos

These are random pictures taken over the past 5 years that remain among my favorites--
Jaime's kitchen window, December 2007



The house in winter, 2006

The ridge, winter 2004

The house, 2003, looking down the driveway
(before we added the log room)
Power plant in Shinnston, WV, 2005 photo


Friday, January 25, 2008

A Day in the Life of a Librarian


Where I work, back entrance

I seldom write about work, but since librarians have such a staid stereotype, I thought some people might be interested in a glimpse of my usual day. I'll just hit the high spots:

6:00 am:
Up and at 'em.

7:00am:
Snowy, icy roads again, so traveling out to work was a slow trip.

8:15 am:
At work, checking restrooms to be sure they were cleaned properly by the new janitor; checking for icy spots on the walkways; check with assistant on recent deliveries of furniture.

9:00am
Discuss an open position and a plugged toilet with a co-worker; answer a question about collection development and another about staff performance. Recycling truck arrives--talk to them; cleaners arrive to clean chairs in the meeting room--talk to them.

9:30 am:
Visit a branch to discuss changes to the teen area and janitorial problems, and go over plans for a new bookmobile. Suggest ways to deal with some problems with teens. Look at ideas for rearranging furniture. Discussing staffing. Discuss budget.

12:30 pm:
Stop at another branch for a quick visit, then back to the office for email and paperwork. (Lunch? In the car, between branches.)

1:30 pm
In the afternoon, sorting in the book sale area--I'm determined to get that area under control for my new employee. Three hours of moving boxes, sorting and boxing books is grunt work, but a welcome relief in some ways, the decisions are so simple. Put aside books that might be collectible to look at later.

4:00 pm:
A scare--a chemical-y smell outside. What is it? Is it a shelter-in-place situation? Call 9-1-1. Not a danger, no sheltering needed. Whew. Back to book sorting.

4:30 pm:
Discuss security problems with the guard, janitorial issues with the janitor. Check and answer email. Leave a 5:20.

6:00 pm:
Drive to Ripley, arrive at the Alpine Theatre for our special screening of Rebel Without a Cause. Popcorn is ready, we wait for people to come. They do, not many, but for this cold night a good group. Sell popcorn, watch the movie, clean up afterwards, close the theatre. Then finally, home to the fire, the dogs, a warm house, a glass of Shiraz. Storytelling? No place for it in this day, except one thing...

As I arrived back at work after the branch visits, I saw a car swing around the corner and zip up to a trash can. The girl in the passenger seat rolled down her window and tossed a bag into the can as the young male driver talked on his cell phone. They zoomed off.

So I'm wondering--what was in the bag? Was it some sort of drop-off? of what? I watch for a while. No one approaches the trash can. People are looking at me. I go inside. But after work, I casually walk over to the trash can and look inside. There's the bag. I poke it.

Trash. nothing more. Ah well. It could have been a story.

It might still be a story... "The car zoomed around the corner and screeched to a stop. A hand reached out the the open window and threw a bag into the trash. The driver dialed a number. "That's it, man. It's done."

And then?

Thursday, January 24, 2008

What You Can do With a Junk Tractor

How do you turn a tractor like this...














into a tractor like this?










Simple! You just add a little bit of this--$$$ ...


and one of these--the big guy, not the little one! Although the little guy did all he could to help, including dumping oil all over the basement garage floor.













Aaron has a gift for fixing things. The tractor project took a couple years, but the result is beautiful. He's the one the whole family turns to when something needs fixed--lamp, pump, radio, car--anything with moving parts. When I saw the tractor in the beginning, I thought he was crazy. But with time and effort and a few dollars he has a wonderful antique tractor.


I should have known--after all this is the same guy who took two junk snowmobiles and instead of making one good one like he expected, he made them both run and look like new. He took an old rototiller I bought for $7 at an auction and $100 later we have a tiller we've been using for 3 years, a real horse of a machine.


Every family needs an Aaron, but not everyone is lucky enough to have one.

*Oh, it takes a really nice wife who doesn't mind if greasy tractor parts are being beat upon on her nice clean kitchen counter--that's really important too.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Ballad-Singing

I found this while doing some online research, and I love the simplicity of the statement:

"It ain't about how pretty you sing, it's all about how good you tell the story." Dellie Norton, a traditional ballad singer from Madison County NC, as told to the author by Sheila Kay Adams

I don't think I've ever heard ballad-singing described so clearly and succinctly.

Random Thoughts and Wonder Whys

1. What is that the automobile industry is doing differently with the metals used for car bodies, and the paint? Have you noticed that nowadays when a car gets a dent, it pushes in almost like plastic--the paint doesn't even crack? Don't get me wrong, I think it might be a good thing--but what are they doing differently?

2. Why is oatmeal in a stout cardboard container, but crushable stuff like potato chips in bags that will assuredly get crushed?

3. Today I worked in the library's book sale area, sorting and packing books that were then moved to storage by the work-release prisoners we'd hired for the day. As we were sorting, one of them read the title of a book out loud: "Children and Drugs."

"Whoa," I said. "Bad combination."

"Yeah," he replied. "I should have read that book a few years ago."

These young men impressed me. I don't know why they were afoul of the law. I do know that they worked hard, and that they were readers. They all agreed that Louis L'Amour was the best, and all had read Where the Red Fern Grows. "That's a good book," I said, "but every time I read it, the dog still dies. Same ending every time." They looked at me a second, then grinned. One said, "Hunh. I noticed the same thing!"

4. Why is it that when I don't have my camera I see the most amazing things?

Like in Columbus the other night in the McDonald's drive-thru lane there was a tow truck, and right behind him a hearse. Were they in a partnership to go to wrecks together?

Or yesterday morning--the sun coming up a dangerous ruddy glow, and in the west the full moon tinged pink from the sun's rays. That was just minutes before the snow began to fall so thickly I could barely see to drive.

This morning was cold and clear, and when I reached the end of Joe's Run the moon was still big and round in the west. It made a golden path across the ice on the lake. Beautiful. And no camera. Sigh.

5. Why am I so lucky as to have a husband who waxes floors and dusts, and then fixes my dinner and has chilled wine and a fire ready for me when I get home? What did I ever do to deserve that?

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Book Review: Hush, Child, Can't You Hear the Music?


Drawing its title from a haunting story of two fiddlers and the Devil, this collection of stories from rural black families in Georgia in the 1930's and 40's is as entrancing as its cover implies.

Rose Thompson traveled the back country collecting the stories of people she met in her job as a government worker. Her duties included teaching people to make chicken brooders, how to use pressure cookers, and how to grow winter gardens. As people grew comfortable in her presence, she began to hear the stories of the farm women she worked with, and of their men. She recorded the stories in her personal shorthand; fortunately she transcribed them later on. Some of the stories were published by Eliot Wigginton in Foxfire Magazine, but this collection puts them all together and frames them in a specific time and culture.

The arrangement of this book is interesting--it's a long interview with Ms. Thompson interspersed with stories as a natural part of the conversation. She was as skilled a photographer as she was a listener; most of the black-and-white photo illustrations scattered thoughout the book were taken by her, and are of the people from whom she gathered her stories and songs.

Humor, spirituality and clever use of language define the stories and their tellers. For example, in the story of Liddy Purify's Cat, a cat manages to convince a hawk to let him go. And then "that old hawk looked right shamefaced and he dropped the cat and sidled off." In another story, a man is described as moving so fast that "his misbehavior coat stood straight in the wind."

One of my favorites in the collection is Aunt Tucky De Dandy. It's a shapeshifter story, similar to other tales I've heard of women who can shed their skin and travel in the night (as cats in some stories; in others as a witch, evil spirit, "boohag," or fifoulette). But this version includes a unique ending that explains why frogs sing as they do.

Hush, Child was re-published in 1999, and there are copies available online. A quick read, this book is one that I am glad found its way off the library's shelf and into my hands and heart.

Book Review: Sticks in the Knapsack

I work at a library, but you'd be surprised at how difficult it is to find time to actually look at books just for pleasure. Today I took my lunch break in the stacks, and came out with some interesting finds, like:

Sticks in the Knapsack and other Ozark Tales, collected by Vance Randolph. Published by Columbia University Press in 1958, the stories in the collection were collected by one of the recognized names in folklore-gathering. What Richard Chase was to the Jack tales, Patrick Gainer to West Virginia stories and Leonard Roberts to Kentucky storytelling, Randolph was to the tales from the Ozarks. What I like about his stories is the natural way they are told; if the teller used a four-letter word, it's in the book, not edited out. I'm not saying I approve of cussing, but when I read these stories I can hear the voices of the tellers.

The tales aren't edited to be proper--they're presented as told, and there are some mighty funny stories in the collection. Like the story of the man and wife who fought so much they decided to break up housekeeping. They couldn't agree on who would get the feather tick, so they decided to cut it in half. Well, a big storm blew up as they were cutting and blew all the feathers out of the tick. They had to sleep on the same quilts that night and by morning they had gotten over their argument, deciding that neither one of them had sense enough to live alone. Even if you aren't interested in folklore, the book is worth reading just for the humor and colorful storytelling.

Although currently out of print, there are copies available online, but only a very few. Perhaps it will be re-published soon. I hope so, because I would hate to see such good stories get lost in the OOP file.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Faith

Faith
is

listening

to rain on a dark night

believing

that what
I cannot
see

is
real

Old Cookbooks



This was my first real cookbook. I had Volume II of the Meta Givens cookbook, and always wanted Volume I.

Volume II taught me how to bake bread, date bars and cakes of all kinds. The section on bread baking included black-and-white photos so I could see exactly how the dough was supposed to look. I felt confident in my abilities because no recipe I tried from that book ever failed.

I used it regularly, and my old faithful cookbook finally fell to pieces. By the time it died, I was no longer cooking as much because I was in college and my sons were growing up and leaving home. I didn't have time to cook, and they had no time to eat it if I did. The old cookbook disappeared.

It was when I was looking for the recipe for date bars this Christmas that I realized my old book was gone. I searched everywhere, sorted out all the cookbooks and looked behind the pots and pans in the cabinet. It was just...gone.

I found a date bar recipe that was close to the one I remembered, and although the cookies were good, they weren't quite the same. I got online and started looking.

Who knew that old cookbooks could be so expensive? I was amazed at the prices I found until I got on eBay. There I found not one but THREE copies of my beloved cookbook. I put in a bid on a two volume set and waited. Sure enough, I won! The cookbooks arrived last Friday, and I opened them quickly. But wait...these weren't right. The two books were from different years. So I have an index that is only half right.

Now I have to decide--go back on eBay and try to find the matching volumes? Or be satisfied with what I have now? The photos of bread making are the same, and the date bars are there.

But if I go back into the hunt, I'll end up with 2 sets! Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I wore out my first Meta Givens cookbook, so it may take two sets to get me through the rest of my life.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

Three Interesting Places to Visit Online

Totally Optional Prompts provides weekly prompts for poets. Writers who want to participate read the prompt on Saturday night, then go to their own blogs to write a poem. Writers return to Totally Optional Prompts to post permalinks to blog pieces created for the prompt. It's an interesting concept; although I have yet to post anything, I am reading and enjoying the links to fine poetry. The comments on the prompts provide insight into how other writers perceive the suggested readings.

Epigrammar features very short works by Douglas Imbrognio of Charleston, WV. Sometimes biting, sometimes pointed but always hit to the heart of a topic with few words.

Mountainword.com is seeking people willing to call and read poems on voicemail. It's a neat idea--you can read your own or someone else's work.

Banana Bread and Vegetable Soup

It was a cold, cold night, down to about 5 degrees. After breakfast I decided to add to the heating efforts of the woodstove by cooking something for lunch.

I looked around the kitchen and found:
two over-ripe bananas in the fruit basket

In the refrigerator:

some wilting celery
ditto some grape tomatoes
1/2 of a cabbage
1/2 a jar of canned tomatoes
1/2 a big can of hominy
a round steak that needed to be used
some onion in a baggie, already cut up
rosemary and thyme picked from the garden yesterday, just to smell

It was evident that I needed to make banana bread and vegetable soup.

In the photo above, you can see the condition of my banana bread recipe. Now it's neatly re-typed in my computer, so I don't have to worry about trying to read the old recipe. I made muffins instead of a loaf because they're easier to carry in my lunch.

For the soup I used all the things listed above (except the bananas!) and added:

2 beef boullion cubes
Worchester sauce
some ground 3-color pepper and some crushed red pepper
salt
a few potatoes and carrots, cut up
a clove of garlic
some water

I used the celery tops and cut the rest into sticks, freshened in water.

The soup reminded me of my mother's soup-making. She did exactly the same thing, using whatever was in the refrigerator and coming up with some amazing combinations that worked well. Her mantra in the kitchen was "waste not, want not." A good rule to follow, and a good way to make some soup that's just right for a very cold day.

The pot I made this morning will provide lunches for Larry and I for most of the week, so I've saved time as well as money.

Here's the banana bread recipe:

Banana Bread

1 cup mashed bananas
2½ cups flour (all-purpose)
1 cup sugar
3½ tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
3 TBSP canola oil
¾ cup milk
1 egg
nuts (optional)

Measure all ingredients into a mixing bowl.

Beat with a fork until well-blended.

Pour into a greased loaf pan or muffin pans.

Bake loaf for 1 hour at 350 degrees. or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Bake muffins for about 25 minutes; use the toothpick test.
Makes 1 loaf or 12 muffins.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

The Snow Man: A Hans Christian Andersen Tale, adapted for telling


This is an interesting old story from a master storyteller, Hans Christian Andersen. It is in the public domain so is available online as e-text. Being in the public domain means it is also available for storytellers to tell without copyright restrictions. I have adapted the tale slightly to include more modern language and usage, without, I hope, losing the flavor of Mr. Andersen's story.


"It is so cold," said the Snow Man, "that it makes my whole body crackle. How wonderful it is to be cold!But how that great red thing up in the sky is staring at me!"


He meant the sun. It was just setting.


The sun went down,and the full moon rose, shining in the deep blue night.


"There it comes again, from the other side," said the Snow Man, who thought the moon was the sun, showing himself once more. "If I only knew how to move away from this place. I would like to move. I would slide along on the ice as I have seen the boys do; but I don't know how; I don't even know how to run."


"Away, away," barked the old yard-dog. He was quite hoarse, and could not bark properly. He had once been an indoor dog, and lay by the fire, and he had been hoarse ever since. "The sun will make you run some day. I saw him, last winter, make the last snow man run, and the one before him. Away, away, they all have to go."


"I don't understand you," said the Snow Man. "Is that thing up yonder to teach me to run? I saw it running itself a little while ago, and now it has come creeping up from the other side."


"You know nothing at all," replied the yard-dog; "but then, you've only lately been patched up. What you see yonder is the moon, and the one before it was the sun. It will come again to-morrow, for I think the weather is going to change. I can feel such pricks and stabs in my left leg; I am sure there is going to be a change."


"I don't understand him," said the Snow Man to himself, "but I have a feeling that he is talking of something very disagreeable. The one who stared so just now, and whom he calls the sun, is not my friend; I can feel that too."


"Away, away," barked the yard-dog, and then he turned round three times, and crept into his kennel to sleep.


There was really a change in the weather. Towards morning, a thick fog covered the whole country round, and a keen wind arose, so that the cold seemed to freeze one's bones; but when the sun rose, the sight was splendid. Trees and bushes were covered with hoar frost, and looked like a forest of white coral; while on every twig glittered frozen dew-drops. Every twig glistened. The birch, waving in the wind, looked full of life, like trees in summer; and its appearance was beautiful. Where the sun shone, everything glittered and sparkled, as if diamond dust had been scattered; while the snowy carpet on the earth seemed to be covered with diamonds.


"This is really beautiful," said a young girl, who had come into the garden with a young man; and they both stood still near the Snow Man, and contemplated the glittering scene.


"Summer cannot show a more beautiful sight," she exclaimed, while her eyes sparkled.


"And we can't have such a fellow as this in the summertime," replied the young man, pointing to the Snow Man; "he is wonderful."


The girl laughed, and nodded at the Snow Man, and then ran away over the snow with her friend. The snow creaked and crackled beneath her feet.


"Who are these two?" the Snow Man asked the yard-dog."You have been here longer than I have; do you know them?"


"Of course I know them," she has stroked my back many times, and he has given me a bone of meat. I never bite those two."
"But what are they?"


"They are engaged to each other. They will go and live in the same kennel by-and-by, and gnaw at the same bone. Away, away!"


"Are they the same kind of beings as you and I?" asked the Snow Man.


"Well, they belong to the same master. My, people who were only born yesterday know very little. I can see that in you. I have age and experience. I know every one here in the house, and I know there was once a time when I did not lie out here in the cold, fastened to a chain. Away, away!"


"The cold is delightful. But tell me--why are you out here on a chain?"


"I'll tell you. They said I was a pretty little fellow once; then I used to lie in a velvet-covered chair, and sit in the mistress's lap. They used to kiss my nose, and wipe my paws with an embroidered handkerchief, and I was called 'Ami, dear Ami, sweet Ami.' But after a while I grew too big for them, and they sent me away to the housekeeper's room; so I came to live on the lower story. You can look into the room from where you stand, and see where I was master once. It was certainly a smaller room than those up stairs; but I was more comfortable; for I was not being continually taken hold of and pulled about by children. I ate food as good, or even better. I had my own cushion, and I used to go under the stove, and lie down beneath it. Ah, I still dream of that stove. Away, away!"


"Does a stove look beautiful?" asked the Snow Man. "Is it at all like me?"


"It is just the reverse of you. It's as black as a crow, and has a long neck and a brass knob; it eats firewood, so that fire spurts out of its mouth. We must keep on one side, or under it, to be comfortable. You can see it through the window from where you stand."


The Snow Man looked, and saw a bright polished thing with a fire gleaming from the lower part of it.


"Why did you leave her?" asked the Snow Man. "How could you give up such a comfortable place?"


"I had to. I bit the youngest of my master's sons in the leg because he kicked away the bone I was chewing. 'Bone for bone,' I thought; but they were so angry, and from that time I have been chained up, and I lost my bone. I can't bark any more like other dogs, I am so hoarse."


But the Snow Man was no longer listening. He was looking into the housekeeper's room, where the stove stood on its four iron legs, looking about the same size as the Snow Man himself.


"What a strange crackling I feel within me," he said. "How can I get in there? I want to go in there and lean against her, even if I have to break the window."


"You must never go in there," said the yard-dog, "for if you do, you'll melt away, away."


"I might as well go," said the Snow Man, "for I think I am breaking up as it is."


That whole day the Snow Man stood looking in the window. In the evening the room was even more inviting, for from the stove came a gentle glow, not like the sun or the moon; it was the bright light that gleams from a stove when it has been well fed. When the door of the stove was opened, the flames darted out of its mouth. The light of the flames fell directly on the face and breast of the Snow Man outside.


The night was long, but the Snow Man stood there watching the stove and crackling with the cold. In the morning, the window-panes of the housekeeper's room were covered with ice. They were the most beautiful ice-flowers any Snow Man could desire, but he could not see the stove because of them. The snow crackled and the wind whistled around him; it was just the kind of weather a Snow Man should enjoy. But he did not enjoy it; all he could think about was the stove.


"That is a terrible thing for a Snow Man to think about," said the yard-dog; "I suffered from it myself, but I got over it. Away, away," he barked and then he added, "the weather is going to change."


And the weather did change; it began to thaw. As the warmth increased, the Snow Man decreased. He said nothing and did not complain. One morning he broke, and sank down altogether; and, there where he had stood, something like a broomstick was sticking up in the ground. It was the pole around which the boys had built him up.


"Why, that's the stove shovel they used to build him! No wonder he felt so strongly about the stove. Away, away," barked the hoarseyard-dog.
But the girls in the house sang,


"Come from your fragrant home, green thyme;
Stretch your soft branches, willow-tree;
The months are bringing the sweet spring-time,
When the lark in the sky sings joyfully.
Come gentle sun, while the cuckoo sings,
And I'll mock his note in my wanderings."

And nobody thought any more of the Snow Man.


THE END

Make a Flake: Play for Wintry Weather


While browsing around today I found a simple internet game that can produce some neat results. Better Homes and Gardens offers a similar program, but requires a lot of personal information before you can make a snowflake.

At Zefrank, you can make a rotating 2-or 3-D snowflake. Try making changes while it's moving!

One of my Christmas decorations, not a snowflake I made, but pretty.

If you want to make real paper snowflakes, this site has patterns that guide your cutting.

Kinderart offers templates to make specific patterns, along with a few recommended books.

Want to know more and need some hands-on help? Google Books lists 1013 titles about making snowflakes!
A lovely Japanese story about a snow fairy can be found here.
So if you're covered in snow today, or expecting some flurries as we are, these actitivies should give you and your young ones a few things to do. And don't forget to make some snow ice cream!

Friday, January 18, 2008

Gifting the Fairy: Adaptation of a Welsh Tale


Once in the days when everyone knew that the fair folk lived in the land, there was a fairy who was in the habit of helping a family every evening by putting the children to bed.

“Shh! Shhh. Shhhh…go to sleep, little ones. Go to sleep. I’ll sprinkle fairy dust on your eyelids and soon you’ll be asleep.”

She would sing them fairy songs until they were fast asleep. What does a fairy song sound like? Perhaps she sang it like this…. (hummm)


Poor fairy, her clothes were in rags, but she never seemed to notice. Every night the children would stay awake til she came, and every night the fairy would fly through their open window and settle on their bedpillows.

“How are you?” she would ask. And “Are you ready to go to sleep now?” And she would sing to them, soft and low and sweet.

Their mother happened to walk by the bedroom in her slippers one night, and I suppose the fairy did not hear her because she didn’t hide, she only sat their singing to the little children, whose eyes were drifting shut. The mother felt sorry for the fairy, in her poor ragged dress.

So one night she left a silken gown on the bedpillow for the fairy to thank her for all her help. But fairies do not like rewards.

“What’s this? What’s this? It must be your mother doesn’t want me to come anymore. She should know, as all folks know, that fairy folk don’t accept gifts.”

The very next day the fairy was gone, and the gown was found out by the fence, torn to bits and trompled by tiny fairy feet.

The children missed their friend, and you know, I think the fairy missed them too. They were old enough by now to go to sleep by themselves, though, and each night they would sing each other to sleep. And each night they would dream of their friend, the fairy who sprinkled the fairy dust on their eyelids as they drifted off to sleep.

I've had this story in my files for several years, with no note as to the source except "Welsh tale." If you know the source for this story, please let me know. It's a charming tale.

For many more Welsh fairy tales that are in the public domain, the Welsh Fairy Book is online, with lovely pen-and-ink illustrations.

Then there is The Fairy Mythology, also available online at Sacred Texts. It's incredible that so many of the old collections of stories are now available to us online. It's like finding treasure each time I discover another book that someone has graciously put out there for the rest of us to enjoy.

New look for the blog

I hope you like this new template for my blog. I find it easier to read with less scrolling.

Let me know if you like it, or if it causes problems for you--I'm not sure how it displays on all monitors.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Columbus SpeakEasy

What a great evening we had with the SOCO tellers in Columbus, Ohio! (SOCO stands for Storytellers of Central Ohio.)

I was the featured teller for the SpeakEasy at the Maennerchor Restaurant in Columbus this week. Several SOCO tellers were there when we arrived so we got to visit during dinner. It was especially nice to see Bev Comer who was my hostess last year when I came to the SpeakEasy.

Larry Staats, a Jackson County native who has lived in Columbus for many years, shared some memories of his boyhood and had us doubled up with laughter at the table. Other old friends who were there were Jim Flanagan, Melanie Pratt, Cathy Jo Smith, Joyce Geary and Sally Crandall. I met several tellers who were new to me, always a pleasure.

The accordion player left the stage and we were ready to go. Joyce did the best introduction I have ever been honored with--she'd certainly done her homework. Since there seemed to be an interest in ballads, I sang several during my performance, and told one of my favorite Jack tales (Jack and Old Fire Dragaman) and as an example of our West Virginia ghost stories I told the state's most famous tale, The Greenbrier Ghost.

The open mike portion of the program was a blast. Sally told a story about Jack in New York, Jim described his adventures with drunken raccoons, Cathy Jo introduced us to some of her more unusual relatives, Hank Arbaugh treated us to Canadian ballads, and Melanie told another of my favorite Jack tales, Soldier Jack.

As we left, Larry remarked that he'd enjoyed himself very much, and that it was an evening of excellent entertainment. I agreed--it's been a while since I've been to a storytelling event (November?), and this was a fine treat in the middle of the winter.

The next teller for SpeakEasy is Andy Fraenkel, also of West Virginia. The schedule of tellers is on the SOCO website, and I am hoping we'll be able to go back to listen at least once more during the series.

Accelerated Death

I got my renewal notice for AAA today. I've only been a member for two years--the first year, we needed a vehicle towed three times, so it was definitely worth the investment. Last year? No towing needed. But with both vehicles around 200,000 miles, my bet is on needing some roadside help sometime in the coming year, so I'm joining again.

BUT--in the same mail as the renewal notice was an offer for AAA term life insurance. I was tossing it in the trash when a small piece of paper fluttered to the floor. I picked it up and read "Accelerated Death Benefits."

Hunh? You can get paid more for speeding up your death? How does that work?

I read the blurb under the heading: all you have to do is get a terminal illness that will cause you to die in 12 months or less. Then you can get up to 50% of the total benefit in one lump sum to spend however you choose. (Except in New Jersey--looks like a person gets longer (24 months) to die in NJ).

What a deal! So you make payments on a policy, get yourself diagnosed to die in 12 months, and you can get half of whatever the policy's limit is (minus, of course, a $75 processing fee and interest).

There is one slight hitch to all this: you can't speed up the process on purpose. So no self-inflicted terminal illnesses, yall!

I decided not to sign up for this incredible offer. I prefer the old slow method of simply aging to death over the accelerated model anytime.

(Joking aside, I am sure this could be a great policy for some people. But the title offered me a great writing prompt.)

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

More Appalachian Superstitions: Morning Meals and More

Earlier this week I covered how to get out of bed without disturbing your good luck, but what about breakfast? Is eating is as laced with danger as getting out of bed?


Evidently so. Here are a few things you should know before dipping a spoon into your bowl of oatmeal:


1. Eating from an uneven (wobbly) plate will bring bad luck. Perhaps this is an indication that you're eating from a dirty table (debris under the plate causing it to wobble), so that means you're lazy which means you don't deserve good luck?


2. When eating a boiled egg, be sure to poke a hole in the bottom of the shell to let the devil out. Why he'd be in there is the question. Maybe the smell of boiled eggs reminds him of home?


3. If you slice bread unevenly, you've been telling lies. The most likely explanation is that your hand is trembling from nervousness.


4. If you spill salt, you must pinch some of it up quickly and toss it over your left shoulder. The pinching, of course, must be done with the right hand. Otherwise, bad luck will follow you.


5. If you eat fruit grown in a graveyard, you'll die within the year. Who would want to eat that anyway? Obvious explanation is the possible carrying of disease by the fruit in question.


6. Don't eat pie on Tuesday--it will make you ill. Probably because you're eating rich food on a workday. Desserts were Sunday food.


7. If you take the last piece of bread off a plate, you will never marry. However, if you take it when it is offered to you, you will marry. So it's all up to you--married or single? Taking the bread indicates selfishness, taking the bread when offered indicates good manners.


8. Onions and garlic will keep evil spirits away from you. Probably the smell will do it! You don't need to eat the onions/garlic--just carry some around with you.


9. If you tell a bad dream before breakfast, it will come true. This is one I am mighty careful about--I mean, I don't really believe it's true, but I don't want to take any chances.


10. Sprinkle salt behind an unwanted guest and they will leave. Probably because they think you're losing your mind.


11. Drop a biscuit while taking them out of the oven and you will have unwanted company. But get rid of them by using #10 above.


12. Whistling before breakfast brings bad luck. Taking things too lightly, perhaps?


Here are a some websites listing Appalachian superstitions:

Mountain Folklore --from Tennessee

Mountain Memories--from southwestern Virginia

Appalachian Healing Traditions--linking mountain ways with the Native American traditions, from North Carolina

West Virginia (and other places)--on Yahoo Answers. Interesting lists!

Collection from a class at Mountain State University in southern West Virginia.

Sports superstitions for a girl's basketball team in West Virginia. I thought I was bad!

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Sharing A Story about Stories


I am happy tonight. A young storyteller from Hungary, attending college in the US, emailed to ask permission to tell a story I wrote.

Mine, all mine! Or are they?


Her request makes me happy for several reasons:

  • the story was good enough to appeal deeply to someone else
  • the story speaks across cultures
  • the story will live on because it is being told

In today's world, many storytellers copyright their work. I understand the impulse--"I imagined, labored, researched, created. This is mine." I have felt the same possessiveness about stories I have developed for performance. The tales become my babies, to be protected, nurtured. Not handed off to strangers to be cared for.

As time passed, I began to see stories differently, particularly those I developed expressly for oral storytelling. What drove the change in my position was one word: oral.

Oral storytelling is a tradition that has existed for centuries, probably since the beginning of man. It is how history, traditions, and mores passed from generation to generation. Who am I to stand in the path of that long history and say, "No! This is mine!" And why should I?

All stories have their roots, their beginnings, in another story. That is why the Motif Index exists--no matter the culture or time period, there are themes that transcend all differences and appear in stories across the globe and back through time. These motifs can be identified and cataloged.

So is any story really new? Probably not. The combination of motifs, language, and experiences may vary, but at the bottom of any tale we can probably identify a universal motif (boy conquers giant, girl solves riddles, people/animals shift shapes, etc.).

So when Macsek asked to tell my version of Captain Wedderburn's Courtship (a story based on an old ballad) I was delighted. When Donna requested permission to tell my story Apple Butter, I was pleased. When Elizabeth asked if she could tell Gracie's Cabin, I sent her my CD. Not because I am such a good and generous person--because I want these stories to live on, to be told and shared and changed by generations to come who find something in the tales that speak to them.

What if Macsek, Donna and Elizabeth tell the stories better than I do? More power to them--it only guarantees the future of my stories.

And for that, I'm happy.

Monday, January 14, 2008

How to Get Out of Bed Safely in the Morning

In older times, Appalachian people tried to safeguard their luck during the day with certain behaviors and beliefs. I suppose in the mountains life was uncertain enough; a person needed all the help they could get, and so superstitions helped them feel they had some control over their environment.


If you feel that your luck needs safeguarding, here are some ways to be sure you get out of bed and out of the house safely. I can't vouch for them, although I admit I am aware of most of them and might be caught from time to time stepping on a dropped comb or stopping to see what shoe I'm putting on first.

To polish or not to polish, that is the question. Only if they're off the feet!


I've added my interpretations of what might have originated these beliefs:



1. Always get out of bed on the right side of the bed (but from what perspective? while you are in the bed or standing at the foot?) Right side was always considered the side of good, left the side of the devil.


2. Put your right shoe on first. (same thing)


3. Don't sneeze while you put on your shoes! If you must sneeze, go back to bed and start all over again. Sneezing indicates illness, perhaps?


4. Don't polish your shoes while they're on your feet!


5. And if your stockings should fall down (heaven forbid), you'll end up an old maid. Four and five both indicate not taking proper care of your grooming, and who would want to marry a someone who didn't take care of her/himself?


6. Don't look under the bed either--you'll never marry if you do. I have no idea! perhaps indicates lack of trust?


7. If you put on a piece of clothing inside out, make a wish before you turn it and your wish will come true. I have no suggestions--do you?


8. If the hem of your skirt turns up, spit on it (eewww!) and make a wish--your wish will come true. Hmm...perhaps indicates a willingness to pay attention to appearances by making an effort to turn down the hem.


9. Don't cut your fingernails on Thursday, and


10. Never count the buttons on another person's clothes (why would you want to anyway?). Cutting fingernails on Thursday may indicate that you didn't do it last week, before church. Lazy or slovenly behavior, and lack of respect. Counting buttons--you'd have to stare to do that, and staring is rude.


11. It is bad luck to pass someone on the stairs. Again, this could be an indication of rudeness because you should have waited, and said "After you."


12. If you sing before breakfast, you'll cry before supper. Singing in some areas was considered sinful and playful. A serious, industrious person would be busy getting ready for the day's work.


13. If you drop a comb, step on the teeth with your right foot. The belief in the right side being, well, the right side.


14. If you count the teeth in your comb you'll have bad luck. Probably an indication of laziness. Who has time to count the teeth in their comb?


15. If you should feel inclined to leave a house by climbing out a window, you have to re-enter through the same window or you'll have bad luck. The only explanation I can think of for this one is that someone leaving through a window is probably up to no good. If your intentions were honorable, you'd had no problem coming back through the window.


There you have it! Fifteen ways to foolproof your luck before you leave the house.


Do you know other superstitions regarding luck? I'd love to hear them. I doubt that the Appalachian people were the only ones who used such charms to protect themselves against whatever dangers faced them in the rough world of the mountains.



Most of the above sayings are from Patrick Gainer's book Witches, Ghosts and Signs. Although out of print for several years, the book is being reissued by WV University Press. It's a trove of stories, lore, traditions, crafts and more.

Another long list of good-luck superstitions can be found at Old Superstitions online. Although these are not notated as to source, the list includes many that are familiar to me.

Google has the e-text of the Memoirs of the American Folklore Society available for download. This extensive list includes reference to the place from which the saying was collected, and includes several pages about luck, both good and bad.

So: get up on the right side of the bed, put on your right shoe first, spit on your upturned hem and put something on wrong side to, don't count the teeth in your comb or drop your comb, don't sing or pass someone on the stairs...what else was it?

I think I can do this...

Let Your Kids Play with Dangerous Things?


Climbing in trees--probably a dangerous thing for children to do too! Haley is a champ at it, and regularly scales the apple tree in my yard.

It takes a brave man to make such a statement, but Gever Tulley, founder of the Tinkering School, says exactly that--let your kids play with dangerous things.




Recently on the NPR radio show Car Talk, an adoptive mother wondered about turning her 5 adopted children loose to take apart an old, non-functioning car. The kids, she said, loved to take things apart. A car could keep them busy for months. The Car Guys advised on the side of caution and safety, but even I could hear their creative brains exploring all the possbilities of the idea. Turn kids lose to disassemble a car? What a concept!


Tulley's"dangerous things" are everyday occurrences for kids who live in the country. Pocket knives? No self-respecting male in West Virginia is without one (and a lot of us females carry them too). At a family reunion a few years ago, someone needed a pocket knife to cut some strong. Who had the knives? The three West Virginians present.


Another dangerous thing: fire. Most country kids have built bonfires or campfires, lit a wood stove or a kerosene lamp. Fire is not dangerous, it's a tool to be used properly.


At 12, almost all of my sons had driven a tractor or a truck. They had to or else the hay didn't get in the barn or the tobacco hauled from the field. Driving wasn't the dangerous part, but navigating across our steeply sloping land--now that will give your adrenaline a boost.


Taking stuff apart was routine. They could take three broken bikes and make two sort of functional ones (okay, so one bike might not have brakes, but they had feet, didn't they? and it made going down hill a fast affair).


Operate power tools? If they didn't they wouldn't be able to get through the to-do lists I left them. Throw spears? Yesterday a grandson used his pocket knife to sharpen a stick and practiced throwing for an hour, trying to figure out how to get his spear to stick into the ground. We watched, advised on how to best sharpen and throw the stick. Dangerous? It could be. But with adults nearby, a large open field with no other children in sight, it was hardly as dangerous as swinging in a crowded playground.


Tulley is right--in many ways we over-protect our children, thereby keeping them from learning valuable life skills, developing the self-confidence to try out new things, learning that failure happens sometimes, and finding those critical thinking and problem-solving skills so sought after in today job marketplace.


Danger is part of life. We can teach kids to be careful too. Will they get hurt sometimes? Certainly. But the same parents who won't allow a child to steer a car or operate a power drill think nothing of allowing the same child to ride a four-wheeler or a skateboard, play football or other violent contact sports--sources of high levels of childhood injuries.


What has happened is that what we view as dangerous has shifted. We watch grown men pound each other on TV and don't consider the danger of the sport. We provide helmets for bikes and four-wheelers and assume children wearing the helmets wil be safe. We let coaches decide if a play or a move is safe. We give in to demands for skateboards and other toys because "all the other kids have them."
We forget that our children need to learn practical skills that will help them throughout their life, and we forget that most important of all, we need to be there to guide them along the way--not doing things for our children, but letting them do things themselves and see the result of their work.

Raising kids is inherently dangerous. Raising thinkers, planners and doers is downright difficult. But when we see our teenager figure out that how to charge a car battery, then get in and drive away--ah, that's priceless.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Snow in Iraq?

Weather Report from Camp Speicher, Iraq:

Snow and cold.

Who would have thought it? Derek called today and told us it has snowed twice this week. In the desert. While we were having 70 degree temps.

I remember photos he sent us in 2004 when he was in Iraq before--snow in Baghdad. Seems so strange, but then with the world feeling so out of kilter, maybe it shouldn't be surprising.
One of the truest pleasures of being a mother and grandmother is visits from children and grandchildren. Our oldest son lives on the other side of West Virginia, which means on the other side of the state's highest mountains.

Which means little visiting in the winter months. But this weekend we got a weather break, and George and family came over the hills to Granny's house.

I realized that these two grandchildren were the only ones who had never been to breakfast at the Downtowner in Ripley. Now I make a mean breakfast, but at the Downtowner everyone can order what they please in a friendly, welcoming atmosphere where "everybody knows your name." Guess where we had breakfast?



The only thing the Downtowner doesn't make is grits, and I love grits. I found a work-around --I brought my own grits in my purse. The cooks graciously agreed to fix them for me. Ah, small towns!


After breakfast I introduced my visitors to Rachel and Mike of Rachel's Relics Antique Shop. Grace and I had fun trying on hats, and Grace found one that was obviously waiting just for her.



Back home, some of us baked cookies while others went outside to start building the greenhouse.
We spent the evening by the fire, piddling around with instruments none of us can really play but enjoy trying. Other grandchildren came to visit too, and one spent the night--blow up another air mattress!


They went home today (after a few of them tried coddled eggs with herbs from the garden for breakfast--not everyone liked them but at least they gave it a try). It will be a while before we see them again, but this weekend we made every minute count.

I was thinking about how much my grandchildren enjoy visiting here. I know kids--any change is a welcome change. But from their perspective, it would not seem that this is an attractive place to visit--no television, XBox or Wii or even very fast internet. No stores within 12 miles, no malls within 50 miles. No skating rinks, professional sports, Build-a-Bear, little-girl spa makeovers.

What is here: Woods. Dogs. Fireplace. Usually chickens, sometimes pigs. A tractor. Puppets and lots of craft

Poppa Larry clowning around with Clayton

supplies. Musical instruments they can play with. Books--lots of them. A big porch and deck. A granny who likes to cook with kids and a Poppa Larry who cannot be believed for five minutes. Stories and songs-- lots of those. Stars at night. Birds at the feeders. Deer in the fields. Unusual stuff all over the house that they are allowed to touch.

It must be enough because the grandkids clamor to come back.

I did not give much thought to how to be a grandmother until I found myself in that role. I've learned it as I've gone along. But it has been without a doubt the second richest experience of my life, right behind having my sons. Success for me isn't measured in dollars, but in the security of my family knowing that they are well-loved.

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