Sister Gifts

I mentioned the gifts my sisters and I exchange each year when we get together to make fruitcakes. We actually do this twice a year, except that our get-together at family reunion is plant centered--we bring plants from our gardens to exchange. I'm not sure which I like better, because both bring surprises as well as familiarity. We so often grow the same plants; we often like exactly the same things.

Here are some pictures of my gifts this weekend. I don't have any of the actual exchange because I was kinda busy :)

A basket full of gifts. The basket is from Theresa, the embroidery was made by Liz, the crocheted booties were made by Judy, the blackberry jam made by Cathy, the vintage fan from Julie, the vintage little choir boy candle from Judy (memories of these from our childhood, decorating for Christmas!) and the bottle of Chardonnay is from Julie (from the winery where she works).

A close-up of those booties. Aren't they pretty? I'll be wearing them to bed this winter! And the blackberry jam came so beautifully packaged by Cathy. I can't wait to taste it.

Liz's embroidered picture, made just for me. I had no idea she could do this. Isn't it beautiful? If you knew more of her story, you would be as amazed and proud of her as I am. She's one of my heroes.

Ah, Chardonnay! and not just any Chardonnay either. This is Grey Ghost Vineyard's Reserve Chardonnay, 2008 vintage. (I told you I liked vintage gifts!). This is hands down my favorite Chardonnay, and this bottle will be reserved for the holidays. 

Don't you love this little fan? Larry plans to rewire it, but Julie thought it would look good in my log room even if it doesn't work. I agree. I've never seen one like this.  That little choir boy--when we were kids, we had three mantles to decorate. We had several wax candles of Santa, trees, angels, and these little choir boys to use along with roll cotton, evergreens, and other items. Judy found these vintage candles--still in their wrappers! So cute, and such memories attached to them.

More gifts! From left: the vintage goblets and pitcher were packed in that big basket from Theresa. More about them in a minute. The little bottles are from Liz, who knows about my bottle tree; the tiny salt shakers and the "bling" ornament as she calls it are from Liz too. The red plate with a little knife at the back is from Julie--a friend of hers makes them. Imagine! The two vintage crystal wineglasses are also from Julie. Do my sisters know me or what?

A close-up of the red cheese plate and knife. Isn't it pretty?

Maggie brought cinnamon brooms for all of us as she continues to work on her project to make a quilt for each sister from fabric that belonged to our mother. She's made three or four so far and they're lovely. I added pine cones from Judy to Maggie's broom.

About those water goblets from Theresa: she gave me a set of six goblets and a matching pitcher, a lovely set.

Guess what I already had on my shelf at home?

Four of the exact same goblet! So now I have a set of 10 and with this big family, that's a real blessing.Isn't that neat?

Our sister Mary didn't have her gifts ready because of a wedding, a son deployed to Japan and such life events. We were just glad she was able to join us for a few hours with so much going on in her life these days. Her gift to us: being there to enjoy some of the day with us.

What did I give my sisters? Books, of course, and a few other neat little things I've picked up over the year, like handmade soaps, pretty glass bottles, vintage ornaments and a jar of our homemade apple butter for each.

Microfiction Monday: The Thundering Herd

"Dude, it's okay. She totally can do this."

"Why should I believe a guy wearing fake fur?" the king growled. "Off with your head!"

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Play along with us! Go to Susan's blog for instructions and information. Basically: she provides the picture, we write a story in 140 characters or less (that means you count spaces, punctuation, etc).  Then put a link to your post on her blog so everyone can come see your brilliant work.

Weekend: Journey's End

We're home again after a 3-day trip to Virginia for an annual ritual: the Sisters' Fruitcake Bake and Gift Exchange. We started this the year our father died, in 2006 and have continued each year since then. Each year we meet at a different house--last year, we were at my son Jon's home in Leesburg (and that was the last time I actually saw my son, so how fortunate that we made the cakes there. Otherwise my last visit with him would have been Thanksgiving).
 

This year the sisters, all eight of us, met at sister Cathy's house, which used to be our parents' home. It seemed fitting that we should be there, in Mom's old kitchen that has become Cathy's warm space. Cathy and her husband are slowly remodeling the house, one project at a time. The kitchen is in line for updates too.

We're getting better at this. We started work promptly at 10:00 am as scheduled, and the last batch was in the oven before 3:00pm. It was crowded but that did not slow us down.

We make a LOT of cakes, so this is no small feat. Not all the sisters make or even like fruitcake, so some just help and visit. I think we ended up with 40-45 cakes this year--these are the small loaf pans, not the big ones!

The reason for the annual get-together goes back to our childhood. Our mother called the day after Thanksgiving "stir-up day," referring to her English custom of making fruitcakes and plum puddings on this day. These were soaked in brandy and stored in a dark, cool place until the holiday feasts. We helped as children, always stirring the fruitcake mix three times and making a wish. As we grew to adulthood, the custom continued although not all of us participated. I usually did not, simply because of distance and family commitments of my own. But after Mom passed away, the ritual became a healing process and then a time that we could schedule to be together each year. It's important to all of us now, and I would not want to miss it.

Another part of the tradition is bringing in the younger females in the family. The first year it was just the sisters, but now each year more and more female relatives join us for at least part of the day and the younger generation is learning the "secret" recipe. (The secret--not following the recipe).

An odd thing happened the first year we got together. Many of us brought a small gift for each sister, completely unplanned. The next year, everyone brought gifts. These are usually nothing big or expensive, and there are some funny unspoken rules: homemade is awesome, thrift or yard sale finds are especially welcome, and if it's something new form the store--well, that's fine too because a sister chose it! I've received gifts wrapped in vintage linens, gifts in jars, gifts in baskets, and even some very carefully wrapped and decorated. Each finds a special place in my home, and each brings a smile whenever I see or use it.

I feel blessed to have sisters who know me so well that even though we don't see each other often, they know my likes and select so well. I'll post photos of this year's gifts tomorrow. At the end of the day, we took a quick walk up the street to a thrift shop and had a blast browsing the offerings. Another thing we have in common--we all love antique and junk shops.

Now it's time to finish up some laundry and go to bed. Another blessing of travel: the luxury of your own bed and pillows when you return home.

Thanksgiving

The dinner is over, the dishes are washed and most of our company has gone home. I am glad to report that the various recipes I tried all came out well and that I am not overstuffed. I've learned over the years to eat only one plate, and not fill it too full because I will just be unhappy later. And...it leaves room for pie!

Tommy's girlfriend Anastasia was here and helped me get everything ready. We cleaned silver and selected serving dishes, sat on the porch and talked and drank coffee and then set the table together and cooked. Her pet rat Ila enjoyed small scraps of everything, a little mini-composter and is surprisingly entertaining. I never thought I would find a rat enjoyable, but Ila has proved to me that a rat can be a really neat pet.

Here are a couple photos from the beginning of our dinner:

Derek's children are growing up fast.

The beginning of our dinner. Derek took photos for me.

The menu changed a bit; I decided to make the same green beans I made last year with beans, onions, water chestnuts and mushrooms. Anastasia made a cranberry-orange relish that was a tasty change from the usual cranberry sauce, and so easy to make. I tried an amazing recipe for sweet potatoes in orange and walnut glaze and I think it should qualify as a dessert--it was delicious, tangy and sweet and rich. I also found something new to do with corn, a spicy pepper and corn mix that complemented the beans and sweet potatoes very well. I stayed with the bacon and dill cornbread, and the mashed potatoes were red potatoes with the skins on. Add the turkey and gravy and a veggie tray and we had a feast.

Our wines were a white that is my all-time favorite, and a red that Derek brought back from Scotland. The white is a Seyval from Cabin Jones Run vineyard in West Virginia and I have only been able to find it at a little store in Glenville, WV. It's a very special treat when we can get it. The red was a 2004 Chateau de Roques Bordeaux that was a perfect accompaniment to the turkey. Lovely.

The day could not pass for me without constant thoughts of Jon. He and his family were here last year and he had such a good time. He shot a deer on Thanksgiving, the first time he'd been hunting in many, many years. he was touching base with his past and enjoying the memories of growing up with his brothers. He was also enjoying his little granddaughter and relishing his new role as grandfather. I remain grateful that he had that weekend at home, a time that he told me later was the best time he had ever had when he came home. His happiness as he talked to me over the phone was obvious, and another good memory I cherish of my son. When I think of that, I remind myself to hold each day close, to treasure all the memories and to be thankful that I have had so many good times with those I love.

Blessings to you all, and I hope that your holiday was filled with good food, good friends, and good memories.

Thanksgiving: Planning and Memories

Three years ago (and my first year of blogging, so first blog about Thanksgiving:

We celebrated at Derek's house, a few days late because he was flying home from Iraq and his flights were a little questionable.

Two years ago: Larry and I, Tommy, Aaron and his family gathered at our house to enjoy dinner in the log room.

Last year: about 24 people gathered around our table! It was a feast, the best Thanksgiving I can ever remember.

This year: It looks like a smaller crowd will gather in the log room, but the food will be plentiful I know good company and good conversation will flow with the cider (and maybe soemthing a little stronger).
I'm planning the menu now, thinking about what is in the cellar, what is in the freezer and what I might have forgotten. Here's the menu so far. For us, this is a celebration of our year of growing our gardens and turkeys, and storing the harvest:
Roast turkey  (thawing as I write) and gravy
mashed potatoes (in the cellar)
green beans with mushrooms and rosemary (garden and cellar, mushrooms from the store)
cranberry and orange relish (both from the store--wish we could grow them!)
yams, cranberries and apple casserole (from the cellar except for the cranberries)
corn (from the freezer--how to fix? looking for something different)
pickled beets (from the cellar)
pear and raisin compote (pears from the cellar, raisins from the store)
salad? will we need it? or just do a veggie tray for snacking?
pumpkin pie (pumpkin from the cellar, I think, although might have to use store-bought since I'm not sure what I have)
green tomato mincemeat pie, or maybe the little tarts everyone likes best (from the cellar)
corn sticks and cornbread wedges (Jackson's Mill cornmeal--yum!)
apple cider (from the cellar)
wine (from the store)

So, what's on your menu?

Cornbread

Every time I plan to make cornbread, I think, "I'll take photos and put the recipe on my blog." And I never remember. That's because if I'm making cornbread I am mixing it up the last thing before dinner and I'm kind of in a rush because everything is coming ready at once and I need to set the table and people are in the kitchen talking to me and then it's dinnertime and then...the cornbread is all gone.

So. Here's the recipe without pictures. Maybe one day I'll remember and take some. Isn't it sad? It's such a simple thing to make too, you'd think I'd remember to grab the camera, wouldn't you? (One of my sons asked me how I made it last night, and I gave him my usual" "Well, about a cup of this, and some of that..." but really I do know the exact amounts, I just sort of play around the edges of them because I don't like measuring.)

Basic Cornbread

Pre-heat the oven to 450 degrees. (Yes, it's hot!)

Measure into a large mixing bowl:
1 cup self-rising flour (you can use regular flour too, just double the backing powder and salt below and use one cup of plain flour in place of the self-rising flour)
1 cup corn meal (yellow or white, doesn't matter which)
1 tablespoon baking powder (yes, even though the flour is self-rising, you need this because the corn meal also needs something to make it rise)
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar (you can leave this out if you prefer; I like a little sweetness in mine)

1 or 2 eggs, beaten (I never beat them first because I'm always in a hurry, but it's probably a good idea)
1 cup milk (or buttermilk or apple cider--all work well)
2 tablespoons cooking oil

Mix the dry ingredients together. Add the egg and milk and mix in with a fork until all is just blended and all the dry ingredients are mixed in--about 50 strokes.

Heat the oil in a cast iron skillet (10-inch) or 9" square baking pan. Heat on top of the stove until the oil is hot. OR grease cornstick or muffin pans and heat the pans in the oven until the oil is hot. Pour the batter into the hot pans. Bake at 450 degrees for about 15-20 minutes, until the cornbread is lightly browned on top and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

That's it! Easier than biscuits, even, and not nearly as messy to make. I bought a 5-pound bag of corn meal at Jackson's Mill where they grind it, and used it for the first time last night. The meal is coarser than what you get at the store, but much more flavorful and the cornbread was perfect. Which is why it was all gone before I could take any pictures. Again.

You can add to this recipe, of course. Try bacon and dill, for example. Some people add onions, others add peppers, and I bet there's a whole list of other things you can add. Seems like I read somewhere that someone added grated cheese? I like mine plain the best, though, with honey butter or apple butter for a topping. It's like eating dessert with your meal. If you make cornbread, do you add anything different to yours? 

I have a 12" skillet I like to use when we have more people here, and then I add another 1/2 of the ingredients to the recipe, so the recipe is 1 1/2 times this one. Make sense?

Weekend: Quiet, Busy, and Homey

Today has been one of those days that seem all too rare any more: a long, quiet day with time to "piddle," as my father would call it. Piddling has some fine attributes: introspection, tidying, finding, finishing, and relaxing among them.

Last night, come to think of it, was the same way. I returned early in the evening from the Tellabration storytelling event in Beckley. It was a fun trip--two good friends traveled with me to the Tamarack Arts Center where the concert was held. I enjoyed hearing two new-to-me storytellers and an old friend before taking the stage myself. Getting home just at dark, I changed immediately into my flannel gown. There is nothing as cozy as a long flannel gown, is there? The fireplace was still smoldering from the fire of the previous evening, so I added a little wood and sat down to read, drink hot chocolate and enjoy the rarity of an evening alone.

Where was Larry? Why he was in Wheeling along with two of our sons, a daughter-in-law and a nephew to cheer on our youngest son Tommy in a bodybuilding competition. I had already committed to the Beckley storytelling before we knew the date of his competition, so I could not go. He had a good cheering section, though, and we're all as pleased as can be that he won all of his open classes and was runner-up for Mr. West Virginia! He also qualified to compete at the national level, and that's no small thing. Tommy has been preparing and training for this show since August, and he looks absolutely amazing. I will share pictures as soon as he posts them. I am proud of his commitment to this demanding sport--it's one many of us know little about, but I know now what the level of work is to be a natural bodybuilder (no steroids, etc) and it's intense.

Since Larry got in so late, he slept in a little, and that gave me time to be up and having tea and reading before breakfast. How nice to not have to hustle out the door! I picked up another of my book sale finds, this one called 1000 Beautiful Things, compiled by Marjorie Barrows and published in 1947. Again the difference in vocabulary was striking. Language seems to have been more flowery certainly, but also more...scholarly? Considering this book was published for "The People's Book Club" it would seem that its audience was the ordinary man-on-the-street, and not just for the well-educated. Interesting. One poem in particular caught my attention.

 I Have Always Said I Would Go
by Glenn Ward Dresbach


I have always said I would go sometime in the autumn
Away from the bare boughs and the fallen leaves,
Away from the lonely sounds and the faded colors,
And all the ancient sorrow, and change that grieves.

I have always said I would go--and now it's autumn--
To an island where the wild hisbiscus grows
And parakeets flock to the groves at twilight
And fragrance drifts from bays where moonlight glows.

But there would be the vasty sound of breakers
Come in to toss their pearls upon the sand.
All through the night--a longing of great waters
Trying to make the vastness understand.

I have always said I would go sometime in the autumn
Away from the lonely sounds and change that grieves--
But here in my heart is the sound of a distant ocean
And here in my heart us the sound of these falling leaves.

How often we think such thoughts of leaving, and yet the pull of the familiar keeps us in place. But "the sound of a distant ocean" brings a restlessness to go and see and hear it, at least for me. It's been many years since I've been, and yet, the sound of the falling leaves...good poem.


The rest of today got a little busier. We picked up and cleaned up in the yard, put away more things on the porch, and Larry worked on straightening one of his buildings while I pulled the geraniums and hung them in the cellar and planted tulip bulbs. I haven't had but just a few tulips for several years so I am looking forward to some new beauty in the flower gardens in the spring.

Some of our sons are coming for dinner so I'm cooking corn chowder, corn bread, and applesauce cake, and making a salad. I've also been cleaning up more in my study, and I have only two piles of paper to deal with before I can say it's done.

I found, while out in the gardens, that the annual hollyhocks are still blooming. 

I picked a couple, along with some of the colorful leaves of the burning bush and some of the fall-colored rose leaves for some late bouquets.

Even this late, the gardens provide beauty, don't they? I also found these bright red berries:

Can you identify them? I like these to re-seed--they're a favorite of ours.

Well, back to the kitchen to finish up dinner. I am hoping to get up on the hill to take pictures of tonight's beautiful full moon before it gets fully dark. It was gorgeous last night and should be even better tonight.

I hope your weekend was a good one too.

A Book of Lullabies

I just unearthed another of my finds at the big used book sale in October in my study today (I am slowly getting the piles sorted and back in order now that the whirlwind of storytelling in October and November is slowing down).

 The Book of Lullabies was published in 1925. Compiled by Elva S. Smith, the book includes mostly British lullaby poems and songs but there are a few from other countries and even a few American verses. These old books have such beautiful covers. This one is gray with gilt letters and pink flowers, with a 1920's mother holding her baby on the cover. Just lovely to look at, and nice to hold too. My copy is not in perfect condition, but it's readable and if you're into shabby chic, it's perfect.

I was browsing through the book this evening, looking to see if there were any familiar songs in it. There was only one, Wee Willie Winkie, and it had many verses I've never heard before. I don't know many lullabies, actually: the old standard, Rock-a-Bye Baby, of course, and All the Pretty Little Horses, and Bye Baby Bunting pretty much sum up my lullaby knowledge.

Many of the included songs in this book are religious; there is a whole chapter of lullabies to the Christ child, for example. Many are saccharine-sweet by today's standards, and others use racial words that we consider taboo today. The language and sentiments date the entries, and yet that is what makes the book interesting to me---did people really use a wider vocabulary than we do today? If the books published pre-1940 are any indication it would seem so.

There is one whole section that makes the book, in my view: fairy lullabies, like this Irish one:

 The Fairy Nurse

Sweet babe, a golden cradle holds thee,
Ans soft the snow-white fleece enfolds thee;
In airy bower I'll watch they sleeping,
Where branching boughs to the winds are sweeping.
Shyheen sho, lulo lo!





And this Russian fairy lullabye:

Cradle-Song

Lullaby, my pretty baby,
Close thy eyes so bright,
While the moon pours o'er your cradle
all her silvery light;
I will tell thee tales of fairies,
Lull thee with a song,
While the moon, heaven's lonely wand'rer,
Creeps the sky along.

Doesn't this poem etch a picture in your mind? It does mine. And with tonight being a blue moon, it's rather timely.




I wish the melodies, if there were any, were included with the rhymes, but even without them, this is an interesting book to browse on a cold November night. Well worth my $1.00 investment, just for those two little lullabies above.

Enjoy the moon tonight. I hope the clouds stay away in your area so you can see this blue moon.

Little Buck Run and The German Settlement

A roadside sign and a turn off the highways can lead to some interesting discoveries. We were driving home on WV Rte 18 on Thursday, having decided to take a different way home. I don't know about you, but I get tired of the same old roads and like to find new ways and places. These routes invariably take longer, not just because the roads are narrower and don't go directly to where we want to go, but also because there are new things to see along the way---and sometimes, a side road calling out for investigation.

On Thursday we noticed this historical marker on the side of the road.

We could only make out the name so I pulled out my much battered copy of West Virginia Historical Markers and looked up the name we'd seen on the sign: Joseph Diss Debar. Who was he? we wondered. The name was slightly familiar. I found the listing: creator of the West Virginia State Seal, and he had lived in the tiny community of Leopold that we had just past through. By this time we were a few miles down the road, but Larry obligingly turned around, and we went back to read the sign. Just before the sign was a beautiful old farmstead, and that lured us up Little Buck Run where we found the log barn, old schoolhouse and other homestead pictured yesterday.

I was very curious about the "Saint Clara community" mentioned on the sign. What was that? Back home, I started looking online and found out more:

The Saint Clara community was part of a larger effort to settle Swiss and German immigrants in the state. As this article in Wonderful West Virginia magazine explains, Mr. James Swan bought huge tracts of land in what is now West Virginia for pennies on the acre. He planned to parcel it out and make a fortune but his plans did not work out as planned and he actually died a poor man. A land agency obtained his holdings and hired agents to find people to buy the land. Joseph Diss Debar was one of those agents. In Comstock's West Virginia Heritage Encyclopedia, Boyd Stutler's article on Debar hailed Debar as "the first prophet of West Virginia."

Debar was born in the Alsace province of France, and sailed to America in 1842 on the same ship that brought Charles Dickens to America for a literary tour. Debar met Dickens on the ship; one incident noted by Comstock said that Debar got into a game of blackjack on board and lost almost everything, but then had a run of luck and was able to get over half of his money back. Dickens was watching and signaled to Debar to leave the game at the point, which Debar did, so he retained at least some of his money. Debar became and remained a fan of Dickens for the rest of his life.


In America, the colorful Debar was known for his large mustache and energetic, creative nature. He worked hard to get settlers to come to western Virginia, writing letters and advertisements about the many advantages and resources of the land. He married Clara Levassor in Parkersburg, but she died soon after giving birth to a son. Her parents moved back to their home in Cincinnati, taking the baby with them. Debar moved to his lands in Doddridge county and later married again, and he and his second wife had several children.

It was during this time that Debar envisioned and developed the Saint Clara community. Named for his first wife, the community drew Swiss and German people who were interested in a farming life. The community was prosperous and Debar became its first postmaster. He lived on his farm here until 1866, when he moved to Parkersburg. The Lutheran church was established there in 1852 (and is still there today) and got its first minister in 1867.A soldier who had been in France in the first World War told the church about a bronze sculpture he had seen and the church managed to raise the funds to have the statue brought to Doddridge county in 1921. The statue is still there, and that is what we missed seeing on Thursday. Just a few more miles up the road...so, another road trip will have to be made. This is something I just need to see for myself.

Mr. Debar became interested in politics and was elected to the state legislature the year after West Virginia officially became a state. He was appointed Commissioner of Immigration and continued his efforts to attract immigrants to West Virginia, and even sent, at his own expense, a display of the state's mineral and natural resources to the world fair held in France in 1867. He was asked to design the state's seal and his design was adopted by the legislature and is still in use today.

Eventually Debar moved to Philadelphia but he kept an interest in West Virginia until his death at 85 years of age. According to one of Comstock's sources, at the time of his death, Debar was placing advertisements for his services as a medium who could contact the dead. He was apparently a colorful character right to the end.

Interestingly, a reader of this blog sent me a link to an application for National Historic Register status for one of the homesteads in the area (thanks, Bob!). I am not sure if it is one of the ones we photographed on our trip, so I'll be checking on that when we return too. The application includes a lot of historic information about the area and about the history of this particular piece of property. There is a listing also for Krenn School on Little Buck Run, but I do not know where that is. More investigation!

Little Buck Run, Doddridge County

 A road sign drew us up a tiny hollow yesterday as we took the long way home from Doddridge County, WV. Such side trips usually yield jewels, and this one was no exception. Old homesteads, quiet rural scenes that seemed in some cases to be from 100 years ago were our gift this day.

 This lovely, well-kept and obviously at one time a working homestead provided its own food and fuel, and most likely a good income as well in its heyday. I especially liked the picket fence--in older times, farmers fenced a small yard which was maintained with mowing, flowers, etc, and the rest was farm. It minimized upkeep on the grounds and maximized the usefulness of surrounding land for farming use.

 Log barns were not usually notched as carefully as log homes. You can see the notching on this barn, while sturdy, was not done with that same attention and care that the dovetailed corners of log homes I've pictured in other posts. Still, it's sturdy and serves its purpose, just as it did when it was built, probably 100 years or more ago.

 I learned after we got home that this part of Doddridge county was settled by German immigrants, and that was not surprising in view of the neatly kept homes we saw in the area. The farms were immaculate, and over all, a deep country quiet. This little place looks like it may have been a school at one time.

This is just one of the homeplaces we saw. All the outbuildings attest to this having been one busy working farm that was probably self-sufficient too. 

More about the area in my next post. As for yesterday's storytelling? That's yet another post. It was a very good day.

Books, Books, Books

I bought a bookshelf at ReStore, the Habitat for Humanity resale place yesterday (if you haven't been to one of these, you've missed out! Building supplies and all kinds of other stuff). I needed it. My shelves were overflowing and there were three boxes of books in the floor. Where do they all come from, I ask? And then I remember. Oh yeah, the big used book sale, Amazon, Alibris...I buy a lot of books. Another one showed up today, a ballad book that is one of the definitive works--which is great, but where will I put it?

For the past two evenings I've been sorting and rearranging, making a place for the new shelf, cleaning out piles of paper or at least moving them to new locations. I found my license plate renewal form that I would have sworn had never arrived, and a stained glass window hanging that had mysteriously disappeared so I assumed it had been broken and quietly spirited away. There is some value to stirring up all this dust.

Still, there is not enough space. I had to double up the books on the thankfully deep shelves in order to get them all put away. What will happen when I buy--and I will--more books? Those who say hard copy is going the way of dinosaurs haven't met some of us dinosaurs apparently. The thing is, I buy older, out-of-print and possibly rare books. I buy old history, folklore, ballad and even poetry books. I buy books for Larry, my war buff. I buy cookbooks. And craft books. And old fiction books with cool covers.

Have I read them all? Are you kidding? These books are part of my retirement plan! They will be my porch reading, fireside reading, bedtime reading, cup-of-coffee reading, travel reading. I have read many of them and used many others for research, but there are still those I have yet to dive into, and they stand by in anticipation of a future with more time to read. Bliss. If I never read them, I can sell them on eBay and since most have some value, they could be considered my investment plan, couldn't they?

I have not yet succumbed to the attractions of the e-book and I'm not sure I ever will. Like Twitter, it just doesn't seem important enough to my lifestyle...yet. The time may come but for now I am content to pack a bag of books when I travel, spread them around me in the car, and flip pages with delight. Old books have neat illustrations, heavy paper pages, cloth bindings with gilt letters, a richness in my hands. The ebook is light and can slip in a pocket, but where, I ask, is the gilt? As my sister Julie said, we Connelly women tend to be ADH--oooh look sparkly!--D, so pretty book covers are like bling to me.

Is this perhaps a generational difference? Am I really a dinosaur in my pleasure in real books, and will the hardback book die out with the passing of my generation? It's possible, but I wonder, are there younger readers out there who share my passion for books (and especially old books)? Or will all of the valuable, rare books be digitized and only accessible with some kind of electronic reader? Many are already available in that format, and yet when I find one I am looking for, I will browse the e-text, decide yep, that's what I want--and go searching for the real book.

What say you, younger-than-me people? Will you be buying books, or will you be looking online for downloads and leaving the dusty old volumes in the archives to be pored over by grayheads with thick reading glasses?

New Ventures

Some new things are coming up for me. Maybe I will see you at one of these events?

First, Tellabration is coming to Beckley, WV's Tamarack Arts Center, for the 14th year, I believe. I remember participating in a Tellabration there in 1997, and the event has been held almost every year since then--and possibly before. Jodi French has been the organizer of the Beckley Tellabration since its inception and conitnues to do a fine job of putting the event together. Tellers will include Danny McMillion, Sue Atkinson, William Scott Hill and me. The telling starts at 2:00pm! You can find out more at Tamarack's events page. This is a good opportunity to do some shopping for some of West Virginia's finest arts and crafts and hear excellent storytelling too.

Second is a poetry reading at the Princeton, WV library with poets Sal Buttacci, Raymond Neely, and Rob Merritt. There are few opportunities for a poet to read his/her work, and I was delighted to be able to join these talented men to share our writing. This event is coming up soon, on Tuesday, November 30th at 6:00pm. If you're in the area, please do join us. You can find out more by calling the library at (304) 487-5045, and you can get directions to the library here.

Third, I was notified last week that my workshop on crafting stories from ballads has been accepted for the Virginia Storytelling Gathering to be held March 18-20, 2011 at Massanetta Springs Conference Center near Harrisonburg, Virginia. More information about the Gathering will be coming soon at the VASA website.

This last is not an event, but a new writing project. I will be writing book reviews and the occasional editorial for a new online poetry journal called Poetica Place, published by Middle Island Press. I am excited about this opportunity to share my thoughts in a new venue.

See why I need to retire from my full-time job? My part-time life is getting busier all the time with the things I truly love to do--gardening, writing, telling stories, singing. We hear often from professionals in the fields of mental health and human behavior that the way to happiness is to do what you love, and the rest will follow. I am finally willing to take that leap of faith, and get more excited as each day my retirement gets closer. How close? 174 days! Less than six months.

Microfiction Monday: The Lie

Ana dressed in men's attire

and traveled miles her lover to find,

but she found he was just a liar,

so she left him behind.

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Join the fun! Every Monday Susan posts a new photo prompt for Microfiction Monday. The challenge: write a story in 140 characters (which counts spaces and punctuation as well as letters). Think it's easy? Try it and find out. Click here for an easy-to-use character counter.



Spammers

Sorry, guys, I've had to add the comment verification word process again, due to spammers adding comments to old posts. What a hassle. I hope you continue to comment as always, and we can all enjoy this as usual, with just the one extra step of verification. Once the spammers are discouraged I'll remove it again.

Home Again! Kentucky Storytelling Conference

We're home from our trip to the Kentucky Storytelling Conference. Any of you who blog or do Facebook know how it is to have close online friends that you have never met face to face. I've been a member of the Kentucky Storytelling Association for a couple years. I join the storytelling organizations in neighboring states because I want to support their work, and in the process I meet many good people.

I'd emailed or facebooked (is that a word?) with many members of the Kentucky group, but had met only a few of them in person, so I was looking forward to this trip. I had submitted a workshop on ballads that was accepted for the conference so I packed up my books, CDs, notes and Larry and we took off Friday morning.

Oddly I took few photos on this trip. I suppose it was because I was focused on my workshop, and the drive was a long one--about 8 hours--so there was not time to dillydally along the way as I like to do. We got on the interstates and pretty well stayed there.

The place was stayed was stunning. The Kentucky Dam Village Inn and Conference Center were in the part of Kentucky known as the Land Between the Lakes; huge TVA dams and lakes form a wonderland for water sport enthusiasts. Larry planned to do some exploring while I was at the conference, but unfortunately a rainy drizzly day changed his plans--so he stayed indoors mostly, and enjoyed that rare treat, a television!

I was intrigued by several aspects of this conference. First, the KSA has partnered with an organization that serves the deaf and hard of hearing, and a number of interpreters from that organization attended the conference. They provided signing for the workshops and storytelling sessions. If you have never seen an interpreter working with a storyteller, I can tell you it is a wonderful experience. Interpreters use facial expression and body language along with the sign language to interpret the stories, so they add wonderfully to the experience for both hearing and non-hearing listeners.

KSA also works with young tellers to develop new talent. These "torchbearers" can then advance to compete at the national level and perform at the National Storytelling Festival. Several young tellers attended the conference and a past winner who is now in college is a new board member for KSA. The inclusion of young tellers in the organization is important to the future of storytelling, and Kentucky is doing an excellent job of supporting and mentoring emerging talent.

In all organizations like this, volunteers provide the backbone that builds success. I met many people of all experience levels offering their services to help their organization grow and remain strong. The sense of "we're all in this together" was strong, and at the same time, there was none of the stress level I've noticed in other volunteer organizations. Maybe they just hide it well, but I don't think that is the case. The group worked well together, took responsibility and seemed committed to making the conference run smoothly. Great work by a great team.

Another interesting approach was how the storytelling sessions were handled. Often a few "featured" performers present a concert or two but in Kentucky there were multiple open mic sessions. Three hats were placed on the stage and a person could put their name in the hat that best described their experience level: tell a little, tell often, or tell a lot. This allowed the less experienced equal time and equal appreciation for their efforts. Names could only be submitted once during the conference, so everyone who wanted to had a good chance to perform.

There was one featured performer, Octavia Sexton. Her Appalachian heritage was evident in her tales that were flavored with a uniquely Kentucky seasoning and a healthy dose of strong Appalachian woman too. Olivia is best known, I learned, for her telling of Jack tales, those trickster stories that traveled to our mountains with early settlers from the British Isles. Octavia's humor and sense of timing made for a highly entertaining presentation. She's a master of her genre.


Brother Wolf of Ohio was at the conference as a presenter too. Brother Wolf produces the podcast series "The Art of Storytelling" along with other ventures. He has recorded almost 100 storytellers from across the US for his broadcasts, and was recently recognized for his work with a National Oracle Award for Service to Storytelling by the National Storytelling Network, which is a prestigious award in storytelling circles. He made use of his time in Kentucky to record an interview with Octavia on the topic of Jack tales, and also recorded an interview with me on Appalachian ballads. I am not sure when the interview will air, but will be sure to post a link to it here when it is available.

The drive home was for some reason easier than the drive down and we came back to a wonderfully warm house--we're still getting used to heat that stays on even when we're not here. Small blessings sometimes are the ones we appreciate most, aren't they?

To Jon, on Veteran's Day

I am remembering how proud you were to have served, in Korea, the White House, at the G-8 Summit and so many other duty stations in your years of service.

 

 

 

No combat service for you (and you hated that!), just the everyday work of making sure things ran smoothly, that you were part of what made it so. 

 

 

You were our first soldier son, and your pride in your Army uniform was evident every time you wore it.

A salute to you on this day that honors your service, Jon.

Loving and missing you, 

Mom

On the Road Again--Kentucky!

I'll be gone for the next few days, doing a workshop for the Kentucky Storytelling Conference in Gilbertsville, KY. I'm looking forward to meeting some online storytelling friends in person this weekend.

My hard drive has gone bad on my computer so I'll be offline mostly until the new one comes in--but still posting when I can get to a computer :) Don't you just love technical difficulties?

Back soon--why not browse through some of my labels on the holidays, recipes and stories while I'm gone?

Night Drive

 Ridge road, just before the "pole-bar" hill, almost home

The ridge was in darkness as I drove home.

It will be like this for several months

as winter covers the land with its icy blanket.

November, followed by frigid December,

the deep freeze of January

and unpredictable February

follow each other in a bone-piercing reign of ice.

The moon, a gilded ornament

in a landscape of black glass
glinted overhead 

as the road led me surely to my home and fireside.

Wordless Wednesday: November Walk in the Yard

 The herb garden, mostly cleaned out and ready for winter. Brave parsley hangs on.

 Spirea adds its changing leaves to the fall colors.

 The hard frost Sunday morning shook down many of the mulberry's leaves.

 Late roses are stilll blooming despite two heavy frosts.

 Even the yellow rose still has blooms.

The oaks show their scant autumn color--oaks didn't make their usual good showing this year. Can you find the hidden Lab?