Twice a week I lead a Ghost and History walk on the island. It has taken several summers of research for this project. I have read many books and listened to "the ole' folks talk" as they would say.
We gather at 7:30 with flashlights and cameras (and bug spray). I have a great pirate dress with shawl and a necklace of seashells. We begin our journey rather historically...island history, island geography. By the time we reach the water's edge and the darkness begins to descend upon us the stories become ghostly in nature. We then head back into the village for the cemetery stories as flashlights become necessary and folks hold on to each other because of the inky darkness and Ghosts, of course.
Last night a storm began to brew in the ocean...the thunder was rumbling across the water, but often the storm skirts around this tiny island and heads back out to sea. However, this night was different...I began to count the seconds between lightning and thunder, just as I had been taught in elementary school. I knew we didn't have long, yet several stories yet to tell. I walked and talked a little faster. The bolts were more jagged and closer...the wind picked up...the parents picked up their children...but still they wanted the stories. In the middle of my last ghostly tale the rain came in torrents, we all fled for cars and porches (those who had come on foot or bike) to wait out the storm.
Needless to say, last nights tour will not soon be forgotten!
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Monday, July 09, 2007
Springer's Point
Ahhhh, today was a day off and it was splendid! I spent the early morning drinking coffee on the front pizer (front porch) and just watching the sun rise as it cast shadows over the sandy lane. It was the perfect morning for hanging out sheets after having company for several days...it seemed as if someone was always coming and going this week. I love hanging out the sheets for the salty smell.
The week was full of Fourth of July celebrations, our float, our pot luck, our guests...fireworks on the beach. (full acount in this week's Herald Republican!) and a special edition of the Opry on Saturday night by 12 incredibly beautiful and talented women on the island. (If you haven't received Sunday Passage yet, let me know!)
Spent the rest of the morning with Philip and Lachlan (he is three) at Springer's Point for swimming and shell collecting, back on the bikes for ice cream and then naps!
Ahhh, I love having the day off!!
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
The week was full of Fourth of July celebrations, our float, our pot luck, our guests...fireworks on the beach. (full acount in this week's Herald Republican!) and a special edition of the Opry on Saturday night by 12 incredibly beautiful and talented women on the island. (If you haven't received Sunday Passage yet, let me know!)
Spent the rest of the morning with Philip and Lachlan (he is three) at Springer's Point for swimming and shell collecting, back on the bikes for ice cream and then naps!
Ahhh, I love having the day off!!
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Under the old oak tree...
Yesterday afternoon I was strolling by my neighbors (well, actually I wasn't strolling, they were having a garage sale...and they are Philip's grown kids having the sale)....anyway, I walked on over and kept bringing lovely little items back to the house. Some I have hidden under the bed or on bookshelves or in the back wash house (for the time being!)
Anyway, on the late afternoon stroll with the slanting golden orb above, there was a gentleman in an orange and yellow striped hat with eyebrows that were reminiscent of Groucho Marx...black and bushy and almost down to his eyes. We got to talking as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and with one swish turned five one dollar bills into five one hundred dollar bills!
Oh, he did not stop there, he pulled out his deck of cards and shared tricks with us. A crowd began to gather and hover over this eccentric old man. He continued the show with a piece of rope...tying it...cutting it...knotting it..and always returned to a full rope.
I felt like I was part of a traveling magic show...his wife sat serenely on an old trunk at the sale while we all just ooohhhed and ahhhhed. His voice carried down the dusty lane as he used his carny voice gathering us all into the act.
He told us his parents were in vaudeville and traveling gypsies as they took their wooden cart up and down the coast sharing their magic tricks. He began doing magic at age three. It was the most delightful afternoon...I could not stay away..dinner was uncooked and I was late for a rehearsal...but under the gold orb of life we learned more than magic.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Anyway, on the late afternoon stroll with the slanting golden orb above, there was a gentleman in an orange and yellow striped hat with eyebrows that were reminiscent of Groucho Marx...black and bushy and almost down to his eyes. We got to talking as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket and with one swish turned five one dollar bills into five one hundred dollar bills!
Oh, he did not stop there, he pulled out his deck of cards and shared tricks with us. A crowd began to gather and hover over this eccentric old man. He continued the show with a piece of rope...tying it...cutting it...knotting it..and always returned to a full rope.
I felt like I was part of a traveling magic show...his wife sat serenely on an old trunk at the sale while we all just ooohhhed and ahhhhed. His voice carried down the dusty lane as he used his carny voice gathering us all into the act.
He told us his parents were in vaudeville and traveling gypsies as they took their wooden cart up and down the coast sharing their magic tricks. He began doing magic at age three. It was the most delightful afternoon...I could not stay away..dinner was uncooked and I was late for a rehearsal...but under the gold orb of life we learned more than magic.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Friday, June 29, 2007
A ghostly evening...
It is growing dark with thickening clouds and the distant roll of thunder off into the Pamlico Sound. I love these nights for ghost stories and haints that stroll in the night. This kind of weather keeps tourists inside and the locals out with umbrellas and flashlights to enjoy the swaying of the trees and a bit of a floating island.
I think I'll just head out myself for a lonely, quiet stroll and see what ghostly beings I can find in the 82 cemeteries that sleep in this little village.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
I think I'll just head out myself for a lonely, quiet stroll and see what ghostly beings I can find in the 82 cemeteries that sleep in this little village.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Early morning stroll...
This morning was the lovliest of mornings. We woke up early and decided to head to the beach before the heat and the crowds. (OK, there really aren't too many crowds here!) We hurriedly grabbed our swimsuits and were out the door. Oh, it was so magestic. The sun was just peaking out of low rosy clouds as our feet hit the sand. The beach was entirely empty as far as the eye could see....it was as if we were in another world.
We walked and talked about life and the universe and physics and the beauty of life. It was one of those early morning deep conversations. We passed roped off areas of sea turtles and dunes full of sea grass and the remains of washed away sand castles.
We both went into the gray blue water for an early swim and then headed home full of salt and wind.
We completed the morning with showers and hot coffee and blueberry pancakes with Indian
maple syrup before the day had even started. Sigh.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
We walked and talked about life and the universe and physics and the beauty of life. It was one of those early morning deep conversations. We passed roped off areas of sea turtles and dunes full of sea grass and the remains of washed away sand castles.
We both went into the gray blue water for an early swim and then headed home full of salt and wind.
We completed the morning with showers and hot coffee and blueberry pancakes with Indian
maple syrup before the day had even started. Sigh.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
An afternoon fairie party..
The invitation was delivered by hand. "Dear Lou Ann, Come to my fairie party on Sunday
Caroline."
Caroline is 8 or 9 years old and lives on the island in an old historic home/cottage with her parents, Rob and Sundae, her brother, Emmett, and her one year old sister, Mariah Daisy.
She is full of spunk and energy and bursting with ideas. (No TV for those children!!)
I wore my best fairie dress with my crown (of course) and carried a small hand-blown vase as a gift to Caroline for a fairie bouquet. She was still adorning the table as I rapped on the door and I needed to wait patiently for a moment or two.
The house had been transformed into a fairy wonderland with fairy wings and notes and pictures in all the corners of the house. The kitchen table was adorned with pink netting attached to the lamp and circling the table. (After the day's events it was to make it's way to Caroline's bed!) Her fairy collection was gathered about on the table as well as plates and napkins. Sundae was busy finishing up the blueberry tortes, holding on the Mariah and carrying on a conversation with me as well. Sundae is a gifted Mama as well as a gifted writer...so much to talk about! Although on this day, the top was fairies. Where do they live? What do they eat?
Our luncheon was perfect....fresh strawberries, grapes, fairie tea sandwiches, Jordan almonds, fairie tea, and the blueberry tortes. Following lunch we went out into the garden to build a fairie house. The rules are simple...all natural materials found in the garden or the woods although you cannot pick anything! Sundae became the hunter/gatherer while Caroline and I built the fairie house. It was a lovely house...full of sticks, hydrangeas, day lily seed pods, seashells, gardenias, pinecones...the inside had small tables of shells and beds with moss. If I were a fairie, I would definitely live in the small, tastefully decorated home.
By mid-afternoon it was time to meander on down the pathway on my bike. Saying my good byes, I tucked my long fairie dress under me and took to the dusty lane. It was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.
I just wonder....who visited last night by the light of the moon? Will we ever know?
Caroline."
Caroline is 8 or 9 years old and lives on the island in an old historic home/cottage with her parents, Rob and Sundae, her brother, Emmett, and her one year old sister, Mariah Daisy.
She is full of spunk and energy and bursting with ideas. (No TV for those children!!)
I wore my best fairie dress with my crown (of course) and carried a small hand-blown vase as a gift to Caroline for a fairie bouquet. She was still adorning the table as I rapped on the door and I needed to wait patiently for a moment or two.
The house had been transformed into a fairy wonderland with fairy wings and notes and pictures in all the corners of the house. The kitchen table was adorned with pink netting attached to the lamp and circling the table. (After the day's events it was to make it's way to Caroline's bed!) Her fairy collection was gathered about on the table as well as plates and napkins. Sundae was busy finishing up the blueberry tortes, holding on the Mariah and carrying on a conversation with me as well. Sundae is a gifted Mama as well as a gifted writer...so much to talk about! Although on this day, the top was fairies. Where do they live? What do they eat?
Our luncheon was perfect....fresh strawberries, grapes, fairie tea sandwiches, Jordan almonds, fairie tea, and the blueberry tortes. Following lunch we went out into the garden to build a fairie house. The rules are simple...all natural materials found in the garden or the woods although you cannot pick anything! Sundae became the hunter/gatherer while Caroline and I built the fairie house. It was a lovely house...full of sticks, hydrangeas, day lily seed pods, seashells, gardenias, pinecones...the inside had small tables of shells and beds with moss. If I were a fairie, I would definitely live in the small, tastefully decorated home.
By mid-afternoon it was time to meander on down the pathway on my bike. Saying my good byes, I tucked my long fairie dress under me and took to the dusty lane. It was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon.
I just wonder....who visited last night by the light of the moon? Will we ever know?
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana and spends her summers on the wind swept island of Ocracoke. You can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
The Solstice..
Today is the Solstice, my favorite day of the year...from now on we head towards the darkness. On this day, however, we join in the ancient celebrations of proclaiming the sun and making every effort to ask her to stay as long as possible. Stores close, folks dance...bonfires burn in tribute to this wonderful pagan custome.
My boys and I have celebrated the Solstice for as long as I can remember. We set candles floating out on the pond with fairy wishes for a good crop. We chose a king or queen of the Solstice and let that person lead the procession complete with rose petals. Ahhh, those were wonderful days.
This day is wonderful, as well. Philip and I spent the late afternoon at a local wine tasting with friends. I wore my white sundress and flowers in my hair, of course! Tonight we join our friends on the beach with a bonfire for storytelling and singing...and who knows what might happen after dark!
Happy Solstice to all of you.
Lou Ann
My boys and I have celebrated the Solstice for as long as I can remember. We set candles floating out on the pond with fairy wishes for a good crop. We chose a king or queen of the Solstice and let that person lead the procession complete with rose petals. Ahhh, those were wonderful days.
This day is wonderful, as well. Philip and I spent the late afternoon at a local wine tasting with friends. I wore my white sundress and flowers in my hair, of course! Tonight we join our friends on the beach with a bonfire for storytelling and singing...and who knows what might happen after dark!
Happy Solstice to all of you.
Lou Ann
Monday, June 18, 2007
"Zest won't kill me..."
Each morning on the island I am privy to an outside shower with a lovely bar of homemade soap. The shower is adorned with stain glass windows and a copper shower head. It is canopied with the yaupon and cedar trees and with the celestial song of island birds.
It doesn't matter what the weather, I use the outdoor shower religiously each morning. Today when Philip arrived back from the shower, it wasn't the traditional scent of clove and cedar, but a man made scent of what? He was quick to tell me that he found an old bar of Zest soap and was going to use it up. I was a bit surprised, but I also know that he doesn't waste anything.
As long as HE is the one to use the old Zest, then I guess I'll not complain. After all, zest won't kill him, but I will be glad when that old bar is gone.
I am spoiled, that I know.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
It doesn't matter what the weather, I use the outdoor shower religiously each morning. Today when Philip arrived back from the shower, it wasn't the traditional scent of clove and cedar, but a man made scent of what? He was quick to tell me that he found an old bar of Zest soap and was going to use it up. I was a bit surprised, but I also know that he doesn't waste anything.
As long as HE is the one to use the old Zest, then I guess I'll not complain. After all, zest won't kill him, but I will be glad when that old bar is gone.
I am spoiled, that I know.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
15 Days of Sand....
Dear Folks,
Hearing from several of you that the blog site has not been updated has definitely renewed my interest in keeping up.
Ahhh...the lovely Blue Moon night..I waited so long and patiently for the baby to be born...but she had other plans and waited until late on that Sunday night to join this lovely colorful world.
I was here on the Island by then and sharing in the music and storytelling of the festival as Kristin and Abe spent the day in the hospital waiting for her birth.
I believe the moment of her birth we were singing 'Let the Circle Be Unbroken,' which will always make me think of her. So Miss Holly Erika Homan is here to share our lives. We all welcome her with open arms and hearts.
Since the first of June it has been a whirlwind of getting settled once again here with Philip...unpacking, reconnecting, visting, working...
The schedule is wonderful for the summmer...I work three days a week in the shop and those same evenings we have ghost and history walks as well as the Opry. Philip and I are taking turns sharing stories this year. We have beach walks and late night strolls...I have had bread baking class, weddings, and just simply peacefulness.
I'll try to keep you all well informed...dont' forget about Sunday passage...soon to be posted on the web site as well!
Lou Ann
Hearing from several of you that the blog site has not been updated has definitely renewed my interest in keeping up.
Ahhh...the lovely Blue Moon night..I waited so long and patiently for the baby to be born...but she had other plans and waited until late on that Sunday night to join this lovely colorful world.
I was here on the Island by then and sharing in the music and storytelling of the festival as Kristin and Abe spent the day in the hospital waiting for her birth.
I believe the moment of her birth we were singing 'Let the Circle Be Unbroken,' which will always make me think of her. So Miss Holly Erika Homan is here to share our lives. We all welcome her with open arms and hearts.
Since the first of June it has been a whirlwind of getting settled once again here with Philip...unpacking, reconnecting, visting, working...
The schedule is wonderful for the summmer...I work three days a week in the shop and those same evenings we have ghost and history walks as well as the Opry. Philip and I are taking turns sharing stories this year. We have beach walks and late night strolls...I have had bread baking class, weddings, and just simply peacefulness.
I'll try to keep you all well informed...dont' forget about Sunday passage...soon to be posted on the web site as well!
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
The Blue Moon
It is late and dark here on my quiet, lonely street. I have just finished my article for the paper and just couldn't help but writing a few words about it.
Tonight (at midnight) we usher in the Blue Moon, the second full moon of the month. I have been waiting quite a while for this Blue Moon and I believe (really I do)...that my third grandchild will be born tonight. Abe and his wife live in Portland and this is their first baby. I have thought all along it would be a Blue Moon baby although they have scoffed at the idea. But now...well, even Abe talked to the midwife about it yesterday.
It is late after midnight as I sit with my candles as I usher in this unique, beautiful moon.
A glass of wine and a toast to the new baby and the Blue Moon.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Tonight (at midnight) we usher in the Blue Moon, the second full moon of the month. I have been waiting quite a while for this Blue Moon and I believe (really I do)...that my third grandchild will be born tonight. Abe and his wife live in Portland and this is their first baby. I have thought all along it would be a Blue Moon baby although they have scoffed at the idea. But now...well, even Abe talked to the midwife about it yesterday.
It is late after midnight as I sit with my candles as I usher in this unique, beautiful moon.
A glass of wine and a toast to the new baby and the Blue Moon.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Memorial Day and Dawdling Children
It is early and I am on my small porch enjoying early coffee and the beginning of the day.
Memorial Day in my small town was of typical proportion. I attended a pot lunch picnic at noon with family...well, extended family I should add, although Aaron and Karen and the boys were there!! They (the boys) swam, we cooked out and shared stories. There was a WWll war veteran there, a friend of mine, and his wife. It was good to see them and hear what he has to say. Their son also served in Vietnam.
In the afternoon it was the typical sounds of Memorial Day here...mowers, tillers, children. I myself was caught up in the frezy, mowing and cleaning. I had ordered 2000 sunflower seeds, now I just don't know where to put them!? I passed them out to neighbors. We will become a Tuscany Village here!
By late afternoon we all seemed to meander at my neighbor's house...folks began appearing, then bringing chairs, then bringing food. Lee then built a campfire and we roasted hot dogs and ate what was leftover in everyone's refrigerator. It was a great spontaneous evening. We told old neighborhood stories. The children played and ran and ate hot dogs on the grass. It was lovely and charming, a perfect Memorial Day. No one went home until dark.
This morning early I received an email from my Uncle Dean who served in WWll. He wrote a long narrative about the wars, past and present. I would love to share it with anyone who drops me a line. Thank you Uncle Dean.
As for this morning, I am watching the school children go off to school. The twins next door (in first grade) are dawdling....picking up sticks, rocks, kicking something (the sidewalk??)...the last week of school for this small town. Oh, how they don't want to me there! (And I am talking about the teachers!!)
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Memorial Day in my small town was of typical proportion. I attended a pot lunch picnic at noon with family...well, extended family I should add, although Aaron and Karen and the boys were there!! They (the boys) swam, we cooked out and shared stories. There was a WWll war veteran there, a friend of mine, and his wife. It was good to see them and hear what he has to say. Their son also served in Vietnam.
In the afternoon it was the typical sounds of Memorial Day here...mowers, tillers, children. I myself was caught up in the frezy, mowing and cleaning. I had ordered 2000 sunflower seeds, now I just don't know where to put them!? I passed them out to neighbors. We will become a Tuscany Village here!
By late afternoon we all seemed to meander at my neighbor's house...folks began appearing, then bringing chairs, then bringing food. Lee then built a campfire and we roasted hot dogs and ate what was leftover in everyone's refrigerator. It was a great spontaneous evening. We told old neighborhood stories. The children played and ran and ate hot dogs on the grass. It was lovely and charming, a perfect Memorial Day. No one went home until dark.
This morning early I received an email from my Uncle Dean who served in WWll. He wrote a long narrative about the wars, past and present. I would love to share it with anyone who drops me a line. Thank you Uncle Dean.
As for this morning, I am watching the school children go off to school. The twins next door (in first grade) are dawdling....picking up sticks, rocks, kicking something (the sidewalk??)...the last week of school for this small town. Oh, how they don't want to me there! (And I am talking about the teachers!!)
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Bats in the Belfry
Once a year he returns...THE BAT...
I was awakened at 4:30 in the a.m. by a swishing, twishing (?) sound...alas, alas I found myself eye to eye, face to face with a swoopin' poopin' bat in my bedroom. I immediately tore the sheet off my bed to cover the whole of me (minus the eyes) and watched his activities. I was soon brave enough to get up (still holding the sheet) and flipping on all of the light switches in the house. He was already put to bed hiding as the dawn was breaking. All day I thought of the bat..and it was a busy day with the ending of the school year, two celebration parties and then back home to the bat. I decided to organize a posse' of the neighborhood. Lee came with his golf club, the boys next door with brooms, Karen with her butterfly net, and I? My sheet. We tore the house apart looking for HIM. He did not show up until all had left and the last light went out for sleep. At 11:30 he began his swoopin' poopin' excersizes in my room again. Under the sheet I called Karen. She bounded over with her net and caught the little devil. I must admit he was mean looking and had sharp teeth. But all is well, she let him go, I went back to sleep, and the world is a little safer with Karen in charge.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories
I was awakened at 4:30 in the a.m. by a swishing, twishing (?) sound...alas, alas I found myself eye to eye, face to face with a swoopin' poopin' bat in my bedroom. I immediately tore the sheet off my bed to cover the whole of me (minus the eyes) and watched his activities. I was soon brave enough to get up (still holding the sheet) and flipping on all of the light switches in the house. He was already put to bed hiding as the dawn was breaking. All day I thought of the bat..and it was a busy day with the ending of the school year, two celebration parties and then back home to the bat. I decided to organize a posse' of the neighborhood. Lee came with his golf club, the boys next door with brooms, Karen with her butterfly net, and I? My sheet. We tore the house apart looking for HIM. He did not show up until all had left and the last light went out for sleep. At 11:30 he began his swoopin' poopin' excersizes in my room again. Under the sheet I called Karen. She bounded over with her net and caught the little devil. I must admit he was mean looking and had sharp teeth. But all is well, she let him go, I went back to sleep, and the world is a little safer with Karen in charge.
Lou Ann
Lou Ann Homan-Saylor lives in Angola, Indiana which is nestled in the hills of Northern Indiana. When she is home at the White Picket Gardens you can find her gardening or writing late into the night under the light of her frayed scarlet lamp. She is a storyteller, a teacher, a writer, an actress and a collector of front porch stories
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
One Candies...
I was in Border's the other night buying graduation gifts and cards and drooling (well, not quite) over all the books I should read and own.) I did resist the temptation and just bought for those on my list. As I was checking out, I happen chanced on a chocolate truffle. I bought one, even though it was three for one dollar. The clerk, in an grammatically incorrect voice, replied, ahh, yes, one candies. We both laughed. I thought about what she said. One Candies. A great novel title or a poem or as in rating the day....She told me I could have the title to do with what I wanted. All I can think to do at this point is write this blog.
We are deep into the heat in Indiana...the last week of school...sports events...cleaning our rooms..and trying to survive this last week. Tomorrow the kids leave and we send them off on their farewell with our squirt guns as we line up in the drive up. Lovely thoughts for a small, lovely school.
We are deep into the heat in Indiana...the last week of school...sports events...cleaning our rooms..and trying to survive this last week. Tomorrow the kids leave and we send them off on their farewell with our squirt guns as we line up in the drive up. Lovely thoughts for a small, lovely school.
So, could that be One Candies left???
Lou Ann
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)