As quickly as summer comes it leaves just as quietly in the night as Autumn sneaks in around the corner. This past week I have had to pull out the woolen blankets as the temperatures have dipped into the forties. I still sleep with my door to the outside world wide open...I don't want to miss any of the nighttime sounds.
It is the perfect weather for the Johnny Appleseed Festival this week end. If you are around and not busy, come on out to Fort Wayne for a wonderful family adventure. There are craft booths and reenactors....there are bagpipers and dancers...storytellers and musicians....apple cider, apple dumplings and ham and beans from an old cast iron kettle.
I will be performing on the Village Folk Stage both days so come on over and say hello.
Whatever you do this week end, especially in the Midwest, it is definitely a James Whitcomb Riley week end.
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.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Who Will Fill Their Shoes???
This week three artists of unsurmountable talent have died: Luciano Pavarotti, Madeline L'Engle, and Roy Parsons. Here are my personal connections:
When my children were small and we all lived together on the farm, I would have different types of meals...themed, if you will. I often read stories or poetry to match and had music as well. It never failed that when the evening dinner time turned Italian I would play Pavarotti on the CD player. I played it loudly. I would toss in a dashing of red wine into the sauce as I sang along in my diminished Italian voice. I was there with him on the stage in spirit when, in fact, I was in an Indiana farm house with an old stained apron.
Pavarotti began his fame when he stepped into the limelight as a stand in for Giveppe di Stefano at Covent Gardens in 1963.
In another part of the world, Madeline L'Engle won her Newberry award for her most famous children's book, A Wrinkle in Time in the year 1963. Didn't we all grow up with that novel? As an adult and a writer, I have also enjoyed her books on writing and met her once at a conference.
In still another part of the world, a small island boy, Roy Parsons, was singing his heart out on the vaudeville stages of New Jersey. With his harmonica strapped around his neck and his guitar in place he has continued to win the hearts of folk singers and appreciators ever since on Ocracoke Island. His death did not make the New York Times headlines, but for those of us who knew him, we wept just as mightily as if he had.
Who will take their places? Charm, charisma, humor, and a great love for the arts and mankind were these folks. Farewell.
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.
When my children were small and we all lived together on the farm, I would have different types of meals...themed, if you will. I often read stories or poetry to match and had music as well. It never failed that when the evening dinner time turned Italian I would play Pavarotti on the CD player. I played it loudly. I would toss in a dashing of red wine into the sauce as I sang along in my diminished Italian voice. I was there with him on the stage in spirit when, in fact, I was in an Indiana farm house with an old stained apron.
Pavarotti began his fame when he stepped into the limelight as a stand in for Giveppe di Stefano at Covent Gardens in 1963.
In another part of the world, Madeline L'Engle won her Newberry award for her most famous children's book, A Wrinkle in Time in the year 1963. Didn't we all grow up with that novel? As an adult and a writer, I have also enjoyed her books on writing and met her once at a conference.
In still another part of the world, a small island boy, Roy Parsons, was singing his heart out on the vaudeville stages of New Jersey. With his harmonica strapped around his neck and his guitar in place he has continued to win the hearts of folk singers and appreciators ever since on Ocracoke Island. His death did not make the New York Times headlines, but for those of us who knew him, we wept just as mightily as if he had.
Who will take their places? Charm, charisma, humor, and a great love for the arts and mankind were these folks. Farewell.
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, September 07, 2007
Don't forget to smell the roses...
The five day trip to Portland was really wonderful. We hiked in the mountains...along the rugged coastline...collected seashells and lovely sanddollars on the Pacific Ocean and just spent time together as a family.
Miss Holly, at three months, did her first fingerpainting. She did not enjoy one moment of it, I might add, but at least has begun her work in the arts. (She has artist's fingers!!) She giggled out loud for the first time (that was while I was telling her the story of The Wizard of Oz using all the voices, she especially liked my lion voice!)
It was great to spend equal time with Abe and Kristin. It was lovely, but as always, too short and I found myself back on a plane heading to the Midwest. Karen and the boys were waiting for me here at the House at the White Picket Gardens with dinner and a lovely bottle of wine. I have such wonderful daughter in laws!!
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.
Miss Holly, at three months, did her first fingerpainting. She did not enjoy one moment of it, I might add, but at least has begun her work in the arts. (She has artist's fingers!!) She giggled out loud for the first time (that was while I was telling her the story of The Wizard of Oz using all the voices, she especially liked my lion voice!)
It was great to spend equal time with Abe and Kristin. It was lovely, but as always, too short and I found myself back on a plane heading to the Midwest. Karen and the boys were waiting for me here at the House at the White Picket Gardens with dinner and a lovely bottle of wine. I have such wonderful daughter in laws!!
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, August 31, 2007
My Blue Moon Baby....
Just a short drive to the Toledo airport...a couple of flights...and I am in Portland, Oregon visiting Abe, Kristin and the Blue Moon Baby.
I arrived mid day on Thursday to a warm, beautiful day with roses blooming all over the city, I believe that is why it is called The City of Roses.
It is lovely to be here...to share in their lives. Today Kristin and I have lunch out and shopped and even took Miss Holly for a latte. (Well, she actually slept through that event!!) Tonight Abe and Kristin are going out to dinner and Miss Holly and I have events planned. We are going to do our very first art work (fingerpainting)...a music lesson (I'll sing to her with my guitar)...and a short lesson on astronomy (we will take the blanket outside to look for shooting stars.) At least that is my plan. She may have plans of her own. (She is three months old!!)
Until tomorrow,
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 arrived mid day on Thursday to a warm, beautiful day with roses blooming all over the city, I believe that is why it is called The City of Roses.
It is lovely to be here...to share in their lives. Today Kristin and I have lunch out and shopped and even took Miss Holly for a latte. (Well, she actually slept through that event!!) Tonight Abe and Kristin are going out to dinner and Miss Holly and I have events planned. We are going to do our very first art work (fingerpainting)...a music lesson (I'll sing to her with my guitar)...and a short lesson on astronomy (we will take the blanket outside to look for shooting stars.) At least that is my plan. She may have plans of her own. (She is three months old!!)
Until tomorrow,
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.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Rain, rain go away...
Day number seven. It has not stopped raining...OK, I take that back..on Thursday at 1:30 it did not rain. How many inches did we get??? 5, 10, 15, 20...reminiscent of the old hide and go seek days. I am not really sure.
I do know this.
My backyard is under water and my neighbors, Larry and Cheri of 30 years in the neighborhood have never seen this event.
The basements are flooded in my small town. (Mine just has minor water, no big deal!)
The tornado warnings sent us all scurrying to those flooded basements yesterday as the sky turned black and the wind whipped around. My neighbor girls were visiting and, for the most part, thought it a great adventure. I had them put on red shoes (part of my Dorothy collection) before we went to the cellar.
Stoplights are out all over town.
The lakes are closed in my county. Yes, the lakes are closed. The only thing allowed are kayaks and canoes. I had dinner with friends on the lake last night, and it was so quiet and peaceful. On occasion there was the stray canoe silently gliding around the marsh. Quite lovely, actually.
According to the DNR, this has never happened.
On the positive side...there is a lot of green...I have read a lot of books...and it gives us all something to talk about in my small town!
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 do know this.
My backyard is under water and my neighbors, Larry and Cheri of 30 years in the neighborhood have never seen this event.
The basements are flooded in my small town. (Mine just has minor water, no big deal!)
The tornado warnings sent us all scurrying to those flooded basements yesterday as the sky turned black and the wind whipped around. My neighbor girls were visiting and, for the most part, thought it a great adventure. I had them put on red shoes (part of my Dorothy collection) before we went to the cellar.
Stoplights are out all over town.
The lakes are closed in my county. Yes, the lakes are closed. The only thing allowed are kayaks and canoes. I had dinner with friends on the lake last night, and it was so quiet and peaceful. On occasion there was the stray canoe silently gliding around the marsh. Quite lovely, actually.
According to the DNR, this has never happened.
On the positive side...there is a lot of green...I have read a lot of books...and it gives us all something to talk about in my small town!
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, August 24, 2007
Back home again in Indiana....
Dear Folks,
What a long two weeks this has been. My last post was right before I left Ocracoke. Philip literally had to pull me away from the counter in his gallery, put my suitcases in the car, and drive me silently (yes, I said silently) to the 5:30 ferry. Tears simply dripped down my face. He never knows what to say when I am like that...I never know what to say when I am like that.
There were storms in the area, and we were privvy to a lovely rainbow. A sign I should stay? No, just a lovely rainbow on a stormy night.
The airport.
It is difficult to say good bye after a summer of sweetness.
Karen picked me up at the South Bend airport with the little guys in tow. It was wonderful to hug their little bodies and talk, even though they were shy with me at first.
My first night back we all went to the midnight star gazing at Pokagon State Park. We took a night picnic and watched shooting stars until the boys fell asleep on the blanket.
The days that have followed have been blog worthy, but starting the school year, moving classrooms (ahhh, there is another blog)...unpacking a summer's worth of sand and memories and reconnecting have taken time. I have met with my book club, hosted the first ever girl's pot luck supper, planned for the newly established writer's group, had coffee with neighbors, planned our neighborhood potluck, kept the boys overnight...attended garage sales and farmer's markets.
All in all. I am home in Indiana once again.
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.
What a long two weeks this has been. My last post was right before I left Ocracoke. Philip literally had to pull me away from the counter in his gallery, put my suitcases in the car, and drive me silently (yes, I said silently) to the 5:30 ferry. Tears simply dripped down my face. He never knows what to say when I am like that...I never know what to say when I am like that.
There were storms in the area, and we were privvy to a lovely rainbow. A sign I should stay? No, just a lovely rainbow on a stormy night.
The airport.
It is difficult to say good bye after a summer of sweetness.
Karen picked me up at the South Bend airport with the little guys in tow. It was wonderful to hug their little bodies and talk, even though they were shy with me at first.
My first night back we all went to the midnight star gazing at Pokagon State Park. We took a night picnic and watched shooting stars until the boys fell asleep on the blanket.
The days that have followed have been blog worthy, but starting the school year, moving classrooms (ahhh, there is another blog)...unpacking a summer's worth of sand and memories and reconnecting have taken time. I have met with my book club, hosted the first ever girl's pot luck supper, planned for the newly established writer's group, had coffee with neighbors, planned our neighborhood potluck, kept the boys overnight...attended garage sales and farmer's markets.
All in all. I am home in Indiana once again.
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, August 09, 2007
"I must go down to the sea again..."
We do not use alarm clocks here on the Island. We just wake up at the bird's call (or the hum of the air conditioner.)
Today I woke early and declared my intentions to watch the sunrise on the beach. Philip (not an early riser) decided to join me. It was still dark so we put on the hall light just to manage the steep steps and stumble out to the morning.
As we arrived at the beach the crescent moon become silhouetted against the hazy dark gray of early dawn. It looked so like a child's cradle.
We walked over the dune and the sight was so stunning we just stood for a few moments. The beach was perfectly empty of humans in all directions. We were already barefoot so we went down to the water's edge to walk and watch the magic of dawn. As light appeared the water become light gray and we were able to distinguish tracks of all types in the sand. Ghost crabs. Sandpipers. Seagulls. Turtles. They have all been busy last night while we were sleeping.
The sun did not appear on the horizon, but hid under the hot steam of the coming day. We walked back and climbed up to the lifeguard post to watch the day. We talk about science and shadows and waves and colors when all of a sudden the sun appeared part way up in the sky. It was small and bright red and looked as if it were a small rubber ball suspended on a string.
We sat in silence as we watched folks begin making their pathway down to the beach as well. A fisherman cast out two lines in hopes of his dinner...a young couple put down a blanket to watch the day and an older woman just walked....
We stopped for breakfast at the Pony Island Inn and visited with local folks before coming home to start our day.
It could not have been more wonderful for my last full day on the island before leaving for Indiana. Sigh.
Today I woke early and declared my intentions to watch the sunrise on the beach. Philip (not an early riser) decided to join me. It was still dark so we put on the hall light just to manage the steep steps and stumble out to the morning.
As we arrived at the beach the crescent moon become silhouetted against the hazy dark gray of early dawn. It looked so like a child's cradle.
We walked over the dune and the sight was so stunning we just stood for a few moments. The beach was perfectly empty of humans in all directions. We were already barefoot so we went down to the water's edge to walk and watch the magic of dawn. As light appeared the water become light gray and we were able to distinguish tracks of all types in the sand. Ghost crabs. Sandpipers. Seagulls. Turtles. They have all been busy last night while we were sleeping.
The sun did not appear on the horizon, but hid under the hot steam of the coming day. We walked back and climbed up to the lifeguard post to watch the day. We talk about science and shadows and waves and colors when all of a sudden the sun appeared part way up in the sky. It was small and bright red and looked as if it were a small rubber ball suspended on a string.
We sat in silence as we watched folks begin making their pathway down to the beach as well. A fisherman cast out two lines in hopes of his dinner...a young couple put down a blanket to watch the day and an older woman just walked....
We stopped for breakfast at the Pony Island Inn and visited with local folks before coming home to start our day.
It could not have been more wonderful for my last full day on the island before leaving for Indiana. Sigh.
Sea Fever
by John Masfield
I must go down to the sea again
To the lonely sea and sky
And all I ask is a tall ship
And a start to guide her by.
And the whale's kick and the wind's song
And the white sails shaking
And a gray mist on the sea's fare,
And a gray dawn breaking.
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.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Small black wasps..
The weather has been HOT and humid...oh, we need rain and a northwest wind to come in and cool us off. Last night at the ghost walk by the time I was on the second story, I was already dripping in....well, it wasn't really sweat...just dripping. In spite of the heat, it did not deter the ghost hunters as Philip and I both had full tours. There was no spectacular sunset or pale moonlight though..just hazy dark. Actually a very good time to see a ghost, although my group must have been disappointed that no ghost arrived. (I, on the other hand, was a bit thrilled by that!)
I noticed yesterday morning the outside shower was full of small black wasps flying everywhere. This was an odd occurrence since I have not seen any all summer. It must be the heat that has brought them in.
It would not stop me, however, from taking my shower outside. Philip definitely has the classiest shower...copper shower head, stained glass window. There is lots of room for all the shampoos and rinses and I line them up on the wooden shelf. The best part is that it is outside under the live oak tree...a canopy of green and sky. Oh, and it saves scrubbing down the shower once a week as well.
So, I shall live with the little black wasps in this heat...the mystery is...where did they come from and where shall they go?
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 noticed yesterday morning the outside shower was full of small black wasps flying everywhere. This was an odd occurrence since I have not seen any all summer. It must be the heat that has brought them in.
It would not stop me, however, from taking my shower outside. Philip definitely has the classiest shower...copper shower head, stained glass window. There is lots of room for all the shampoos and rinses and I line them up on the wooden shelf. The best part is that it is outside under the live oak tree...a canopy of green and sky. Oh, and it saves scrubbing down the shower once a week as well.
So, I shall live with the little black wasps in this heat...the mystery is...where did they come from and where shall they go?
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
Sunday, August 05, 2007
What do I do??
Dear Folks,
My blog site is so important to me...and then no writing. I have decided along the way that I have few readers...I also have been reminded that I need to write every day, of course, I know that!
Hopefully you are all on my Sunday Passage list, if not, send me a note, and I will make sure you are on the list!!
Philip's birthday was this week, and we had a great time. He also shares his birthday with his grandson, Lachlan. (The one who lives next door!) Philip's brother, Buddy, came for the day as well. We spent the day and evening celebrating with birthday parties, dinner at the Back Porch, and then the evening with Molasses Creek. I hid small birthday cards all over the house for Philip and presented him with a photograph of the meal wine makers!
We spent our joined birthday money for plants and trees for our garden. It is so lovely, but so hot and dry that we have to daily water them!
Tonight is the Jolly Roger, my last time as I will be leaving at the end of the week. I know each day that I will have the same thought, my last time! I am such a romantic.
Take care, drop me a note.
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
My blog site is so important to me...and then no writing. I have decided along the way that I have few readers...I also have been reminded that I need to write every day, of course, I know that!
Hopefully you are all on my Sunday Passage list, if not, send me a note, and I will make sure you are on the list!!
Philip's birthday was this week, and we had a great time. He also shares his birthday with his grandson, Lachlan. (The one who lives next door!) Philip's brother, Buddy, came for the day as well. We spent the day and evening celebrating with birthday parties, dinner at the Back Porch, and then the evening with Molasses Creek. I hid small birthday cards all over the house for Philip and presented him with a photograph of the meal wine makers!
We spent our joined birthday money for plants and trees for our garden. It is so lovely, but so hot and dry that we have to daily water them!
Tonight is the Jolly Roger, my last time as I will be leaving at the end of the week. I know each day that I will have the same thought, my last time! I am such a romantic.
Take care, drop me a note.
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
Monday, July 23, 2007
Harry Potter and the Ticking of the Clock..
Saturday, July 21, 2007
We are a small quiet island gently rocking in the Atlantic....but when it comes to Harry Potter...we celebrate in style!
Last night at 10:30 the doors to the Community Center opened to let in wizards and Harry Potter look-alikes of every age as the clock counted down towards midnight. There were swarms of folks from locals to tourists. I met a librarian from Vermont and a farmer from Ohio!
Now I must make a confession. I do not own all of the Harry Potter books, and I did not even buy one at the bewitching hour last night...or was it this morning? (I can always get mine at the library!) But, oh, I was caught up in the magic. I punched out the lenses in an old pair of sunglasses, found a magic wand (one should never really be without a magic wand!), sprinkled purple glitter in my hair and presto.....a Sybil look alike. Off to the Community Center I wandered and was greeted with another spray of glitter as I entered.I was amazed at the transformation and the work involved! There was a large graffiti board that asked our opinions...What will happen to Harry Potter!! (I have an opinion, but hope I am wrong!!)
There was a great apothecary shop where we could make our own remedies. (Eye of newt and toe of frog...hmmm....that does sound familiar!!) I could have also made great eyeglasses and magic wands, but seeing as how I already possessed those I passed.It was the seer I was most interested in. Yes...I waited with bated breath until my turn to casually (my heart was beating rapidly) pull aside the filmy curtain and have my tea leaves read. I didn't care about the plastic five gallon pail of water next to the table or the stream of children waiting to get in...no, this was my moment. And what did the seer find for me? Romance. Well, that was definitely worth waiting in line for.
We had our pictures taken too, in a floating gilded frame. I thought mine was really quite dramatic and mystic as I held out my magic wand and pursed my lips. Katy Mitchell thought I looked more like a leftover porn star. But what does she know, she is only 19!There was music too. I think it was Sundae, David, Marcie and Lou...although with those black wigs and capes it was difficult to tell. They sang the Monster Mash and Love Potion Number 9. Actually I joined in on the chorus on the stage for the last one, but couldn't really see the words as the rims of my broken out sunglasses kept getting in the way.
Behind the scene was the ticking of the clock...the Harry Potter clock. Exactly at midnight books were falling into arms of adults and children alike.I decided to leave then and headed out to Highway 12. I had hitched a ride earlier but they were far gone so for this midnight hour journey I had to walk. It was quiet and dark and a bit spooky so I picked up my pace on the sandy pathway next to the road.So, I didn't buy the book. The only remnants I have of the evening were a pillow full of purple glitter this morning and a blue half moon sequin that I glued onto the side of my face. Once a wizard, always a wizard, I guess!!
Lou Ann
P.S. Also published on Philip's blog!!
We are a small quiet island gently rocking in the Atlantic....but when it comes to Harry Potter...we celebrate in style!
Last night at 10:30 the doors to the Community Center opened to let in wizards and Harry Potter look-alikes of every age as the clock counted down towards midnight. There were swarms of folks from locals to tourists. I met a librarian from Vermont and a farmer from Ohio!
Now I must make a confession. I do not own all of the Harry Potter books, and I did not even buy one at the bewitching hour last night...or was it this morning? (I can always get mine at the library!) But, oh, I was caught up in the magic. I punched out the lenses in an old pair of sunglasses, found a magic wand (one should never really be without a magic wand!), sprinkled purple glitter in my hair and presto.....a Sybil look alike. Off to the Community Center I wandered and was greeted with another spray of glitter as I entered.I was amazed at the transformation and the work involved! There was a large graffiti board that asked our opinions...What will happen to Harry Potter!! (I have an opinion, but hope I am wrong!!)
There was a great apothecary shop where we could make our own remedies. (Eye of newt and toe of frog...hmmm....that does sound familiar!!) I could have also made great eyeglasses and magic wands, but seeing as how I already possessed those I passed.It was the seer I was most interested in. Yes...I waited with bated breath until my turn to casually (my heart was beating rapidly) pull aside the filmy curtain and have my tea leaves read. I didn't care about the plastic five gallon pail of water next to the table or the stream of children waiting to get in...no, this was my moment. And what did the seer find for me? Romance. Well, that was definitely worth waiting in line for.
We had our pictures taken too, in a floating gilded frame. I thought mine was really quite dramatic and mystic as I held out my magic wand and pursed my lips. Katy Mitchell thought I looked more like a leftover porn star. But what does she know, she is only 19!There was music too. I think it was Sundae, David, Marcie and Lou...although with those black wigs and capes it was difficult to tell. They sang the Monster Mash and Love Potion Number 9. Actually I joined in on the chorus on the stage for the last one, but couldn't really see the words as the rims of my broken out sunglasses kept getting in the way.
Behind the scene was the ticking of the clock...the Harry Potter clock. Exactly at midnight books were falling into arms of adults and children alike.I decided to leave then and headed out to Highway 12. I had hitched a ride earlier but they were far gone so for this midnight hour journey I had to walk. It was quiet and dark and a bit spooky so I picked up my pace on the sandy pathway next to the road.So, I didn't buy the book. The only remnants I have of the evening were a pillow full of purple glitter this morning and a blue half moon sequin that I glued onto the side of my face. Once a wizard, always a wizard, I guess!!
Lou Ann
P.S. Also published on Philip's blog!!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Manteo and Home again...
It was a great week end visiting Jim and the Lost Colony production. (See HR for full report on Saturday!)
We spent Sunday meandering around...visiting the Elizabethan Gardens and a lovely nursery by the sea. We, therefore, decided it was time to start our gardens and filled the car up with lovely drought, sand, and hurricane resistant plants! We also saw the latest Harry Potter movie.
I wanted to stop at a grocery store, but only had ten minutes to shop so that we could catch the ferry. I did just that and we pulled up to the dock 45 minutes later and drove right onto the ferry...great timing.
It was so good to be back home, even after one day. It is amazing how I love living without cars and traffic!!
The week has been busy...ghost tours, the Opry, the usual. Yesterday a German travel writer was here and Philip and I spent time with her. It was great introducing here to some local island life, even though she only had one day!! I took her by bike over to James Barry to go clamming and she went out in the sound to dig for clams and back to the Opry. It is good to see the island from the sea on up!
Today I recorded my journey with Carl Sandburg at the Soundside studio with Gary Mitchell. Now on to editing...adding music...and publishing.
Tonight Philip and I are doing a trial run of our new walking tour...ahhhh, yes, stop in for a sample...this one you can take anytime!!!
So much to say...but the sun is out and the breeze is sweeping in over the sea, and I must go.
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 spent Sunday meandering around...visiting the Elizabethan Gardens and a lovely nursery by the sea. We, therefore, decided it was time to start our gardens and filled the car up with lovely drought, sand, and hurricane resistant plants! We also saw the latest Harry Potter movie.
I wanted to stop at a grocery store, but only had ten minutes to shop so that we could catch the ferry. I did just that and we pulled up to the dock 45 minutes later and drove right onto the ferry...great timing.
It was so good to be back home, even after one day. It is amazing how I love living without cars and traffic!!
The week has been busy...ghost tours, the Opry, the usual. Yesterday a German travel writer was here and Philip and I spent time with her. It was great introducing here to some local island life, even though she only had one day!! I took her by bike over to James Barry to go clamming and she went out in the sound to dig for clams and back to the Opry. It is good to see the island from the sea on up!
Today I recorded my journey with Carl Sandburg at the Soundside studio with Gary Mitchell. Now on to editing...adding music...and publishing.
Tonight Philip and I are doing a trial run of our new walking tour...ahhhh, yes, stop in for a sample...this one you can take anytime!!!
So much to say...but the sun is out and the breeze is sweeping in over the sea, and I must go.
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
Saturday, July 14, 2007
A traveling week end..
Philip and I never leave the Island in the summer...ahhhh...but this week end we actually made plans with our friend, Jim, who lives in Manteo to spend the week end with him. We are traveling on the 4:00 ferry and hope to be in Manteo early evening. We have tickets for the Lost Colony this evening. The production is outside with seating built into the hillside. Once the set opens the ocean is the backdrop and is breathtaking.
I have packed a picnic for the ferry for our week end adventure. Tomorrow we will stop at a nursury to buy lovely old roses for our in-progress garden and then off to see the newly released Harry Potter movie in a small town on the way home.
It almost feels as if we are attending a birthday party...What fun we shall have!
Lou Ann
I have packed a picnic for the ferry for our week end adventure. Tomorrow we will stop at a nursury to buy lovely old roses for our in-progress garden and then off to see the newly released Harry Potter movie in a small town on the way home.
It almost feels as if we are attending a birthday party...What fun we shall have!
Lou Ann
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Ghosts that bump in the Night...
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
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
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