Storytelling Storytelling: Plants, Rain, Wales

Yesterday was a storied day, with tales ranging from the story of the violets and bloodroot, to rain weatherlore to a Wales exhibition and Appalachian stories.

Peter Stevenson of Wales, Mary Morgan Smith of Pittsburgh, Jo Ann Dadisman of Morgantown, Judi Taroesky of Weirton, and me at the Welsh art and storytelling exhibition at the Monongalia Arts Center in Morgantown.

We were up early to make the drive to Beech Fork Lake State Park in Cabell County, WV. The morning threatened rain but thankfully it held off. We arrived early enough to browse the vendors' wares and bought some lucscious tomatoes and strawberries. There were arts of all kinds too, but I restrained myself and just admired from a distance.

My storytelling session had a good attendance of people who were interested in the topc: nature folklore. We ranged from discussion of the sweet violet to my vowed enemy ground ivy to sassafras, trees associated with the Crucifixion to a long list of weatherlore about rain. I wove stories throughout the session, and we could easily have gone on for another hour or more. I am excited about this new addition to my repertoire and plan to continue growing this program.

One thing that happened is a good example of why it pays to over-prepare. The park had a sound system and so I didn't need to bring one--but I decided to bring along my little portable system just in case wires got crossed, as can easily happen when people are planning a new event. As it happened, they had a good system, but the microphone wouldn't work. They even tried a different amp with no luck. So my little system came in very handy.

We set out for Morgantown after this session, and I admit it was hard to leave. Such good people! But time was pressing and we had a 3 1/2 hour drive ahead of us. The rain continue to hold off, and we arrived in Morgantown with about 10 minutes to spare before showtime. I crowded a lot of visiting into that ten minutes!

The Morgantown event was a collaboration showcasing the bridge between Appalachian and Welsh cultures. It had been a full day event, with an evening storytelling and other things the evening before. How I wish I could have been there for the whole thing! Our storytelling guild's concert was the final event of the exhibit, with Appalachian stories as the theme. We heard old favorites like Old One-Eye, Lazy Jack and Sody Sallyratus from Mary Morgan Smith, and Ashpet, and a unique story of the Maiden of Monongahela told by Jo Ann.  Since Ashpet is the mountain version of Cinderella, I had to follow up with my cracked version, Rindercella. I sang a couple ballads and told my original story Gracie's Cabin. It was a good session with excellent examples of Appalachian stories and storytelling.

We were home late, tired and satisfied. Today we are both slugs. Larry is napping and I am messing about with glass, identifying antique pieces and listing a few things. Tonight will be dinner with my #3 son for a late celebration of his birthday.

All in all, a pretty perfect weekend.


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Tellabration! Athens, Ohio

Coming this Sunday!  I'll just be back from my workshop at the WV Writers Fall Conference, and ready to tell some tales and sing a song or two.

See you there!

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Inland Waterways Festival

I'm storytelling this weekend at the Inland Waterways Festival in Marietta, Ohio. This festival happens every two years and I have told stories for it ever since its beginning. It's held at the Ohio River Museum on Front Street, on the banks of the Muskingum River.

It's the most fun! There's much to see and do, all free. The festival continues today. Here are some pics from yesterday's activities.

Josh Wilson of The Sail Loft in St. Albans, WV using a Marlin Spike to make a rope bumper.

Pilot house from the Tell City Steamboat was restored and open for visitors for the first time.

Inside the pilot house

Steam launch. It could spray water a LOT higher than in this pic!

Homemade blackberry ice cream. I couldn't even eat half of this giant cone.

Dragon boat club was there....

and so was part of their dragon!

the fish tank drew lots of lookers.

Learning about musseling. Fascinating.

A mussel boat.

Tellin' tales!

I got to sit at the wheel during the evening's sternwheeler dessert cruise! I didn't wreck the boat either.

The view from the pilot's seat.

Moon over the river

Nathan Lynn, folklorist, singer of roustabout songs and lots of others as well,
born and raised on the river at Paducah, OH, and a reference librarian was
our evening entertainment. He's really fascinating. I sat in on his session on
roustabout songs and enjoyed every minute. Very engaging.

Heading back 

big wheel keeps on rollin'...

It was a fine day, and today will bring more of the same. Hope to see some of you there!


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Speaking of the Weather...

Apparently there is quite a storm heading our way this weekend, if the forecasters are to be believed.

I think I may follow the example of Carolyn over at Roundtop Ruminations and watch the birds to see if they begin feeding more heavily in the next few days, an indication of bad weather on the horizon. My husband always says that the deer will be out feeding too, before bad weather, and then disappear as the storm gets closer. For myself, I find that I get very thirsty the day before a snowstorm. I don't know why that should be true, but there it is.

I've written quite a few weather posts over the years I've been keeping this blog, with several about weather folklore. Here are links to some of those posts:

Sundogs? Weather Dogs? Yes indeed. Pogonips too.

January, it seems, could have its own weather book,

But so could November.

How to prepare for winter, according to folklore, anyway.

Winter isn't alone in having lots of weather sayings and beliefs. There are plenty for rain too.


Then are websites that offer more advice for predicting weather by watching the world around you:

Even TV weathermen get into it, apparently.

Tristan Cooley, who runs a natural navigation school and has written several books on the topic, offers an interesting list of lore and fact on his website.

Homesteading blogger Granny Miller has a list of 50 weather signs to watch for on her website, and claims she can just watch her dogs and cats and know what's coming weatherwise.

So let's see how these old-time predictors fare with the coming storm. Will they be accurate? Will they fail? Or will the weather just be the weather, whether we want it or no?


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Meeting the Devil and Those Mixed-Up Girls: Two Stories

A woman we met at a restaurant in town told us this story. She was having dinner with her parents and had overheard us telling a friend that we were going to Matewan and Mingo county the next day.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't mean to interrupt you, but we're from Mingo county!"

The world throws strange coincidences our way, doesn't it? We stayed and talked with these nice people for probably half an hour. West Virginians are like that--we talk to strangers and end up being friends by the end of the conversation. And we hear some good stories in the process, like this one.

The mother at the table said that her grandfather (or maybe it was great-grandfather) had a store at the top of Ben's Creek Mountain in Mingo county. The mountain is known for its foggy conditions, and one night as her grandfather was riding home on horseback he found himself enveloped in a thick, almost impenetrable fog. He's been out late and he'd had a bit too much to drink, so between the fog and his foggy brain it was a difficult ride.

from Microsoft Clipart

He was making his way his way slowly along the narrow track, his horse suddenly stopped. A quick look revealed the reason: the Devil Himself was holding the horse's bridle.

The horse stomped and tried to rear, laying back its ears and rolling its eyes in fright. "Turn loose of my horse!" grandfather shouted. He was scared too, but drink can make a man braver than he might normally be in such a situation.

The Devil replied, "You keep drinking like that and you'll be mine in the end. You better stop your drinking, old man."

And then the Devil disappeared. The old man, probably feeling even older after that encounter, continued on to his home.

"So," I asked, "did your grandfather stop drinking?"

"No," the lady who told the story replied, "he said he just quit riding over Ben's Creek Mountain in the dark!"

While we were in Matewan, the man we met in the restaurant there told us this story:

photo from History of Colorado

There was an elderly man who lived somewhere close to Matewan (he named the man's name, but I cannot remember it now) who had six daughters and one son. The old man had always lived a simple life, cooking with wood or coal, and an outside privy for a bathroom.

The girls grew up and moved away to Cincinnati, Cleveland and other places where they all prospered and had good lives. They decided that it was time for life to be a little easier for their father too, so they devised a plan to go home and fix up the house for the old man.

They did it up right--all modern conveniences in the kitchen, and a bathroom complete with shower, sink and toilet. When the work was finished, the sisters threw a party--an outdoor cookout. They bought a grill, picnic table, steaks, the works. While they were eating, their father spoke up.

"You girls have got it all mixed up! What are they a-teachin' you in those cities? You've got it all backwards!"

"What do you mean, Dad?" The women were surprised and confused by his comments.

"You're eating outside and going to the bathroom in the house! That's not how it's supposed to be! You're supposed to eat in the house and use the bathroom outside. You've got it all backwards!"


Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

In Honor of Mothers

This was written for the May issue of the new local newspaper, The Jackson View. June seems an appropriate time to post it here; my mother's birthday was June 13 and Larry's mother's was June 12.

I watched her navigate the aisles of the grocery store, steering her cart with one child in the seat, another clinging to the side, and she herself pregnant with a third. She corrected her children, consulted her shopping list, compared prices and kept moving rapidly and efficiently through the store and finally to the checkout where she unloaded the cart, denied her children’s cries for candy, exchanged comments with the cashier, fished out her card to pay, and then steered the loaded buggy and her children out into the parking lot. Behold the young mother: the original multitasking machine.

Mom and Dad (June and Bill Connelly, Manassas, VA in 1959. That was
Grandma and Grandpa's car, and they probably took this photo since they
were into photography and had a color camera. The car later became ours.

 As I drove away my thoughts turned to my own mother. Married at seventeen to a dashing American from New Orleans who was stationed near her home as part of the Army Air Force, she left her life and family in rural England to come to a country where she knew just one person: her husband. Together they built a tiny house with few of the amenities we take for granted today, and started a family that grew to 13 children. In the 1970’s she went out to work for the first time since her days as a land girl during World War II. She sold Avon and Amway, babysat for neighbors’ children, and took a job as a nurse’s aide in the wing of the hospital she loved best, the maternity ward. She continued working for 20 years in a variety of jobs. Mom was always learning something new, interested in meeting people, and she would cross a street to see a baby in a stroller. Her love of life knew no bounds; everything fascinated her. She loved her new country but never gave up her British citizenship.

Dollie Holstein with Larry and his twin sister Mary, probably about 1954. Yes,
that's a big bruise on Mary's head, probably caused by that little guy on the left.

Those memories led me to my husband’s mother, who grew up in a coal camp in Boone County, WV and went on to marry a coal miner and live in Cabin Creek. She saw first-hand the struggle for the miners’ union and knew the hardships of coal camp living: the poorly built company houses, the company store and the dangers of using scrip for credit, the constant dust and dirt raised by passing trucks and coal trains. Yet she, like my mother, was determined to make the best of what life had brought her. She cared for her husband when he was injured in the mines and raised her four children to be able to take care of themselves, to work for what they got and to never lose sight of their heritage. She loved dishes with pretty flowers on them, and grew roses every year, carrying out her dishwater to wash the coal dust off their petals.

Mothers. They teach us grace and dignity, they show us by their example how to live lives of beauty and commitment. As our world gets increasingly complex and confusing, it is the mothers who provide the light that can guide their children to ethical, empathetic, and responsible living. Today we hear much about dysfunctional families, absentee parents, and troubled children. Yet the other story—the story of the quiet, steady mothers who work and care for their families and homes—that story is seldom told. It is not a headline grabber or tabloid material.

So here’s to the mothers who stand behind their families, guiding them like that young mother with her grocery cart, making wise decisions and teaching her children right from wrong. Happy Mother’s Day to her, and to mothers everywhere.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Post Conference

WV Writers blog logo

I've been away at the WV Writers Conference this weekend. This morning I'm in recovery, slowly getting back to the real world while trying to hold on to the inspiration, excitement, connections and conversations of the past two days.

I have been neglecting my writing the past few years; now it's time to make it one of my top priorities. I love to write (and this blog has kept me doing it, thank goodness) but I wonder if other writers feel the same guilt I do about the time I spend staring at the computer screen or jotting in my notebooks when there is so much other stuff that needs to be done. I will need to find a way to block the whispers in my brain that say, "You need to be cleaning the house/weeding the garden/pricing things for the booths/painting that table/cooking/listing on eBay" and so on.

How do other writers do it? If you have a cure, I would be delighted to hear it. Perhaps I need to schedule a day a week for writing? Would I do it or would I put it off to do one of those things listed above? It's a challenge I need to take on.

I came home with three or four ideas and rough outlines for poems and stories. I have folders of stories and poems that need to be edited and refined. I have thousands of posts on this blog, and many of them could be compiled into a book. My columns for Two Lane Livin' are already pulled, edited and ready to be made into a book but I have stalled and procrastinated about completing the project. It's time to get moving again on the writing front.

Thank you, WV Writers, for providing the spark. Now I need to fan that flame and get it glowing again.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Traveling Upriver

We saw it in January while we were in Wheeling, and Larry kept talking about it on the way home. Finally I said, "Okay, I'll call them and see if they will hold it for us until we can get back up there."

It was something I'd never seen before, although perhaps you have: a vintage metal glider chair for one. Usually porch gliders are made for two, like a couch, but this was a one-person chair. It needed work but the price was right. So I called Sib's, the antique mall (named for the brother and sister who own the place) where we saw the chair and sure enough they were agreeable. I mailed them a check and we figured we'd be back up to get our chair in a week or two. And then it snowed. And snowed. And got really cold, and snowed some more. By the time the weather was reasonable I was up to my neck in storytelling projects. But finally this past weekend we made the trip, combining it with a stop to add new items to our Marietta booth. That saved time and money, since the booth was on the way.

We weren't in a particular hurry, either. We meandered up the Ohio side of the river, which is usually considered to be the fastest way to get to Wheeling from here. We prefer the West Virginia side because of all the picturesque little towns along the way, but the Ohio side is pretty too. I wanted to show Larry a place I'd discovered several years ago with the granddaughters--an original town pump in the small town of Sardis, Ohio. The pump still stands in what was probably once the center of town.

Nearby is Marv's Place and the day we visited turned out to be the 12th anniversary of the restaurant. A cruise-in by antique car owners, music, free cupcakes...it was a great stop all around.

When we approached Wheeling (and were back on the Ohio side of the river) I asked Larry if he remembered where the antique mall was. No, he didn't really. Great! Neither did I! We ruminated on it for a while, and vaguely recalled that it was maybe on Route 40. And maybe we went through the Wheeling tunnel--or maybe not. Since we still had hours before the mall would close, we figured we'd just feel our way to the place, a hit-and-miss system that sometimes works and sometimes gets us terribly lost.

This time it worked. We ended up on what seemed to be a back way between the freeway and old Route 40 (also known as The National Road, since it was the first coast-to-coast road-building attempt). We stumbled on an old cemetery with this sign posted in front:

Hmmm... is business dying in Wheeling? Actually, the park was on down the road a bit; the Peninsula Cemetery is historic and apparently haunted, if the stories about it are to be believed.

We did not have time by this point to investigate, but it's a promising place for a return visit.

 from WV Culture and History's website 

This grave, according to the article from the Wheeling News-Register posted on the WV Culture and History website, is the grave of a slave. I definitely need to make another visit here. You can read more about the cemetery and its legends here.

We made a stop at the Goodwill in Moundsville on the way home (when have I ever been able to resist a Goodwill?) and found a lovely little desk. When we took out the drawers to carry it into the house,  lot of papers fell out that identified the former owner as Maxine Earnest of Cameron, WV. I looked her up online and found that she passed away last year at 100 years of age. Such history her little desk must have seen.

We made one more stop on the way home at one of my favorite places, The Wells Inn in Sistersville, WV.

Spring cleaning and other work was afoot at the historic building. We had a good chat with Charles Winslow, the owner, and picked up a copy of the newspaper he's publishing, The INNformer. It's filled with interesting articles; Charles wrote an article in this issue about the early airmail service along the Ohio River valley-the planes never touched the ground! They made a swoop from the sky and snatched bags of mail with a hook. Fascinating reading. You can friend the INNformer on Facebook here. There are links there to more information about the mail service.

After a dinner that exactly met what I was craving (spaghetti with meat sauce, salad, garlic bread, coffee and coconut cake) we decided to walk off a few calories with a stroll around town.

\

And then we were homeward bound. It was a good day, start to finish.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Home from Travels, and Time to Share

From left: volunteer Sharon Rogers, Lynn Ruehlmann, me, Andy Offut Irwin,
Jerry Ingham,  Donna Ingham, Kevin Kling, and volunteers Cassie, Cherie,
David and Tamra. In front, a young teller from Florida and Robin Bady

Finally I have a little time to catch up here. The trip home from Salt Lake City was longer than anticipated due to flight delays and a canceled flight that meant staying overnight in a hotel in Cleveland. Another delay in the morning but by Tuesday afternoon I was home at last.

There is nothing like travel to broaden one's world view, even when the travel keeps us within our own country. I had never seen Utah before, so I was pretty excited to be able to see this unique part of our country. But even more than the anticipation of going to a new place, I was looking forward to being among storytellers again.

There is an energy that seems to emanate from tellers. Perhaps it is because our minds are always visualizing what people say to us and making their words into stories. Perhaps it is because storytellers tend to be very good listeners--all good stories start with having heard something that sparks an idea. Whatever the reason, conversation among tellers is always lively, usually surprising, often funny or touching and engaging on every level. Someone might say jelly donut and the jokes, stories, and memories will start, often seguing into related topics. "Doughnuts? I remember my grandmother making doughnuts one morning," someone might begin, "and the dog jumped up on the counter and ate all of them.The tracked jelly looked like blood on the floor and we thought granny was bleeding and someone called 911." Another might follow with, "I had a dog that ate tomatoes and he would slobber red juice all over the place, people thought he had rabies." And another, "Rabies? Did you hear about the guy..." and so it goes. Story after story after story. (This was not an actual conversation, mind--this is my storytelling brain riffing off the jelly doughnut and ending up with rabies. you can see how it works!)

Lyyn, Andy, Regi Carpenter, and the young teller

I was in some of the best storytelling company in the country last weekend. I was thrilled when I heard that my friends Lynn Ruehlmann and Robin Bady were also presenting. We spent a weekend together last year working on stories and I have not had a chance to see them since. What a combination we are--Robin lives in New York City and tells many stories of life there as well as tales from her Jewish heritage. Lynn comes from Norfolk, VA and deftly weaves Greek myths through her family stories. And then you have me, living deep in the hills and telling stories and singing ballads from our mountains. An unlikely combination, perhaps, but we rock it.

Regi, Andy, Kevin and Robin

The other featured tellers brought their own particular style to the conference. Andy Offut Irwin travels all over the country telling stories from his native Georgia, often in the voice of his fictional Aunt Marguerite and her cronies. His stream-of-consciousness, hilarious style has to be experienced to be believed. Kevin Kling was there too, and this was my first time to hear him. Funny, intelligent and thought-provoking, Kevin turns a disability into ability--the ability to entertain, to make us stretch our thinking and reach beyond the what is to the what if. Pure listening pleasure.

Robin doing what she does best--connecting 

I was so glad to hear Regi Carpenter present her program, "Snap," a lyrical piece about a teenager's slide into mental illness; I just wish I had been able to attend her workshop following the presentation. Noa Baum took us on a journey into her life as a young Israeli soldier and her later unlikely friendship with a Palestinian woman. I only heard Steffani Raff in the final concert, and mercy did she have us going with tales of growing up that we can all relate to. And Donna Ingham! That Texas lady can spin a tale, yall, tall or true or in between. I was so glad to meet her husband Jerry too; I've known Donna for years although our trails don't cross often--Facebook keeps us in touch and I am so thankful for that medium.

Beyond the group of us who came to present, there were all the others who came to volunteer or to attend the workshops and concerts. I finally got to meet some people I've only known online. How amazing to put faces and voices to their words! There were many new faces and voices too, and I look forward to continuing those conversations and friendships online as well.

Tomorrow, I'll show you some of what I saw while I was there. I know you'll find it as fascinating as I did.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.