Thanksgiving Quietness

It is Monday morning after Thanksgiving. Quiet. Sweet. Clean. (ah, probably not!) The house has been fun, every bed occupied and so many trips to the grocery and vacuuming detail that I could not possibly count all of it!


All the boys, wives, children have been (are still) here from Oregon to Florida and, of course, Aaron and Karen. Philip arrived on Tuesday night to celebrate the holiday with this boisterous family as well as my international student, Mengting, from China.


We put all the leaves in the table and enjoyed meal after meal together. We went out to the Christmas tree farm and cut down our trees together as well. Philip and I were in the old fashioned Christmas parade in Hamilton on Saturday night as well. (Article and picture to follow!)

Abe and Kristin and baby Holly are still here on this foggy, snowy morning and I am just enjoying a bit of the early morning peace and quiet before I go back to school to spend the next three weeks with children too antsy to be in school!

International Week and the first snowfall...

When I took Mengting home on Sunday night, it was snowing hard. Mengting comes from southwest China where they do not have fall nor winter...perhaps a little like Camelot, I think. She was enamored with the snow and asked me if this was the BIG one. I had to laugh as it was such a small snowfall. I did tell her it was time to get her boots!

This week is international week at the University and I have been able to host students all week at school. My room is the perfect location and atmosphere to host students from around the world. We have enjoyed dances from Saipan, photos from China, games from Argentina. The elementary students have been wonderfully respectful and have asked the best questions. I feel honored that I was chosen to host these students.

The evenings have been spent at the University as well with lectures on diversity and late night card games. It is fun to know that such lively young people live just blocks away!

The Emporium Embezzlement!!

Closing night at our show...what a great time was had by all the cast and crew! We had a full house and sold out crowds!

Ghost Stories in Steuben County

Folks,

This is the week end that we wait for all year...the week end before Halloween. Everyone is ready...the houses are all decked out with pumpkins, orange lights, dangling ghosts and skeletons. My house is no exception as orange lights adorn my trellises and staircases.

The weather is co-operating as well with temperatures in the low 40's and a cold rain. (At least trick or treating is next week and maybe the rain will stop!)

Tonight Fremont Library hosts the annual spook house for young children. We will be set up in the library due to the weather, but ghosts and haints will haunt the stacks as children clothed in their costumes will roam about. I will be telling stories there as well...keep in mind for young children!

Tomorrow night is the annual Storytelling at Pokagon State Park. My friend, Steve Etheridge, and I will be sharing our ghostly tales in front of the fire place in the pavilion at Pokagon. This event is sponsored by the park and by the Potawatomi Inn! You will want to dress warmly as the cold and rain do tend to seep into the pavilion. Fred Wooley and Aaron (my naturalist son, Aaron) will have the pavilion adorned with carved pumpkins and a roaring fire will be placed on the hearth. Occasionally a bat or black cat will fly or stroll through adding to the atmosphere!

The children's show is at 6:30 and stories for adults ONLY begins at 8:00. Come early to get seats, however!! Please come on up and say hello to Steve and myself. We love visiting with you.

Until then,

Happy Haunting. Lou Ann

Lou Ann Homan is a storyteller, teacher, writer, and dreamer of dreams. She can be found writing late into the night under the light of her red fringed lamp in Angola, Indiana.

White Picket Gardens

My white picket gardens have become a symbol of my gardening, my writing, my who-am-I status in my small town and beyond.

However, my lovely old picket fence has been in great need of painting. Let me also make it clear that there are lots of picket fences in my garden...they are around my raspberry patch, my vegetable garden, they combine with trellises for morning glories and honeysuckle. Brides have blushed under these trellises...folks have told stories and spent evenings sitting out by the fire enclosed inside the picket fence. Jonah and Matthew play inside the garden as well as all the children in the neighborhood...so, it came down to the last moment when they just had to be painted.

I tried to get other folks to paint for me...you know Tom Sawyer/Huckleberry Finn stuff, but no luck. So, I decided this Autumn to just do it myself. Today I finished the outside perimeter as my neighbors cheered me on down to the last fence post. The sun was going down and I was freezing cold but I prevailed...a cheer went up in the neighborhood as I put down my brush!

Now all I have to do is the inside of the fence which probably won't happen until spring because of all the plants and such.

I actually found it very pleasurable to paint my fence, my mind could just roam about and dream as I painted picket after picket after picket.......

Lou Ann Homan is a storyteller, teacher, writer, and dreamer of dreams. She can be found writing late into the night under the light of her red fringed lamp in Angola, Indiana.

Passing the time with stories

So, for a week I have been traveling...telling stories...at schools, at the Storytelling Arts Festival in Indianapolis. I love this job that I have...this role of storyteller that I have nitched out for myself.

On Saturday four of my school students came to perform as well. It was exciting for me to show them around and brag a bit. It was something like show and tell! I was able to emcee their show and watch them work in this surrounding of stage and theatre. They were thrilled. I do think a star or two was born.

I came home to a lovely baby shower for a friend given by Tonya. So, she made another trip up north to share her talents with her friends and family.

It has been good to share conversations on the old front porch watching the full moon rise and telling stories.

I guess that really is the role I play in all of my life...storyteller, and I am happy for this role.

Lou Ann Homan is a storyteller, teacher, writer, and dreamer of dreams. She can be found writing late into the night under the light of her red fringed lamp in Angola, Indiana.

Autumn Campfire

It was the perfect night after a day of yard work and painting. Late in the afternoon Karen and I decided we should have a lovely bonfire to end the work day and invited all the neighbors over. It was an easy thing to do as everyone was out mowing or raking or painting or just sighing over the spectacular Autumn day.

By 7:30 neighbors began arriving with lawn chairs...there were children and dogs and many stories to tell as we gathered around the fire making our circle larger as more folks arrived. My student from Trine Unviversity arrived as well. I am her host family for the year and this was her first outing. Mengting is from Mainland China in a small village where it is always spring. I believe she is in for a big surprise. It was her first experience with a campfire, marshmallows and s'mores.

The children drank hot chocolate while Blue Moon beer was passed out among the grown ups. No one wanted to leave the lovely hot ember coals, but close to 11, everyone was growing sleepy and it was time to say good night. It is lovely to have neighbors visit. Everyone left through the garden gates carrying their chairs and their children. I sat outside for a while watching stars and sparks dance into the ebony night.

As I cleaned up the yard and poked at the coals, I knew it had been a lovely golden night. As Henry Glassie once wrote, "It was enough so that in the morrow we can nod and say it was a good night."

Lou Ann Homan is a storyteller, teacher, writer, and dreamer of dreams. She can be found writing late into the night under the light of her red fringed lamp in Angola, Indiana