The sweetness of May mornings...

 

Mother's Day lilacs...

There is something about May mornings that brings about the sweetness of the earth. Fresh air in open windows. Fresh dirt in the gardens. Fresh flowers in the vase. Fresh birdsong. It has been a bit chilly to sleep with the windows open, but I just pile on more blankets, so I don’t miss this freshness.

With the coming of May, Mother’s Day greets all of us. I know for some this is a very hard day of remembering or longing. My mother passed two years ago, but I still have the joy of my three sons. Even though two of my sons live far away, I hear their voices on the other side of the phone wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day. Lucky for me Aaron and Rachel live here so we can celebrate together. They always bring me a bouquet of lilacs…usually from the farm. This year the weather has been a bit different, and the old-fashioned lilacs are no longer blooming, so they found a bouquet of French lilacs. I love seeing them come through the door carrying these flowers.

Years and years ago, when we first had the farm. I planted a lilac bush. It was the first thing I actually planted. I knew old houses had lilacs growing outside their back doors, along with the kitchen gardens. I did not pay much attention to the history of the lilac or why it drew me in, but I needed to plant it. Years later, when the farmhouse burnt to the ground, the lilac bush was singed but recovered so that Aaron can usually pick bouquets from that bush.

Most folks love lilacs and their scent. They completely fill up a garden or a room. Let’s just look at the history of lilacs for a moment. The lilac tree is actually native to Eastern Europe and  Asia. When folks came to America in the 1700’s, these lilac trees were dug up and carried with them. I read a few accounts that said that snippets of the trees were actually wrapped in paper and sewn in the lining of coats and made the journey all the way across the Atlantic safely. When arriving on American soil they were planted, as I said, next to back doors and kitchen gardens. Of oourse, the settlers brought other seeds and plants to their new home, their new country, but the lilac was one of their favorites. Some historians feel they brought these lilacs because they carried memories with them. They wanted to bring some of the Old World with them, and the lilac was one of the easiest to bring. The very first record of the first lilac was in 1750 at Governor Wentworth’s garden in New Hampshire. George Washington and Thomas Jefferson both had lilacs in their gardens, so these were not just for the commoner with a back yard garden.

I know my memory goes back to my grandmother’s lilacs. She planted hers back by the rhubarb patch. In order to get to that patch, we had to walk by the lilacs. Combining the scent of lilacs and rhubarb is something I still like, and it always takes me back. We would sit their for hours devouring her rhubarb dipping the stems into little tin cups of sugar. Of course, we were sick all night, but at the time it didn’t matter. I always think of this when I smell the lilacs too!

The lilac is also easy to cultivate and grow in rocky soil or sandy soil or good garden soil. They can be watered or not watered and they will still thrive. It is always amazing to me, and sad, to drive by old homesteads where once a family lived and worked and gardened. The house is usually gone or on its way out, but the lilac still stands as a reminder than once upon a time family grew up there. These are the stories that capture my heart.

I planted French lilacs on the side of this old house. I was told that years ago, Aunt Daisy planted lilacs by the outhouse in my back yard. Unfortunately, those were taken out years ago. I wish they were still here. Lilacs can live to be a hundred years old.

My Mother’s Day bouquet won’t last long, I know that, but still, they grace my house with beauty and color and scent. Most of all, I know they were lovingly gathered by Aaron and Rachel for Mother’s Day.

 

Suffragettes

 

Angola Suffragettes with Mayor Hickman!

In March of 1776 Abigail Adams (1744-1818) wrote to her husband, John Adams, “Remember the women and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors.” Abigail understood that she needed to stand up for women. Sher herself was educated in her father’s study. His study included books on politics, religion, law, languages, history so she was well educated. When the time came for her to use her educated voice, she did not hesitate. While John and other men were off to the American Revolution, she bridled her horse in the afternoons and rode off to spend the afternoon with other women whose husbands were off to the war. She spent time reading to the women as they worked on projects…knitting, sewing, spinning. Abigail was one of the few who could read and so she read the news to the women who were hungry to hear about the war. Perhaps, and historians agree with me, she was the first Suffragette.

Shortly after Abigail, another revolutionary figure for women was Mary Wollstencraft (1759-1797). Do you look puzzled by the name? She was the mother of Mary Shelley who wrote “Frankenstein.” Mary died in childbirth with Mary, but not before leaving her work to the world. In 1792 she wrote, “A Vindication of the Rights of Women.” Her premise was that women didn’t need to be superior to men, but to be equal to men in voting, and in property rights, etc. She was very vocal and left behind her writings and her passion to Mary.

On the heels of these two powerful women, comes Sojourner Truth (1797-1883). Here in Steuben County we have a full-size statue of her which is a daily reminder of her words and her strength. She was an abolitionist who was not afraid. She came here even though the Indiana Constitution forbid it. In 1851 our Constitution, Article 13 said, “No negro or mulatto shall come to our state.” It went on to say that anyone caught here or even housing a negro or mulatta would be fined $500. She came here and spoke anyway on our courthouse steps. Some of the men against her said, “If you speak here, we shall burn down the courthouse.”

She was brave and fearless and replied, “Then I shall speak among the ashes.” We are honored to have her grace our square in this town. Next time you go by, take a pause to actually look at her and think about her story.

Who comes after Sojourner Truth? There are so many names in our history, but I just chose one more and that is Alice Paul (1885-1977). She was a very educated woman with an undergraduate degree in biology. She also completed her master’s degree and a PhD in sociology. She also completed her law degree. She was so vital to women and made it her life’s work. In 1913 she helped organize the first national suffrage parade in Washington on the eve of Woodrow Wilson’s inauguration. There were 8,000 marchers wearing purple, gold and white. There were 26 floats and ten marching bands! When Wilson arrived at the White House, he asked, “Where are all my greeters?” to which someone replied, “They are all at the parade.”

In 1917 she helped organize the first protest at the White House. She, along with so many other women, were arrested on the charge of obstructing traffic and sent to prison. The conditions were just awful, and Alice Paul went on a hunger strike. She grew weak and the prison officials thought she might die in jail so they force fed her three times a day. When she was released, along with the other women, she was pale and weak, but still on fire.

Women finally gained the right to vote. The Constitution was ratified on August 18, 1920. It was the 19^th amendment.

Why do I tell you all of this? Today is voting day in Indiana. It is our duty, our honor and our right to vote. After all the women went through to give us this day (yes, I am talking to the women!), it is our moral obligation to carry the torch.

Why else do I share this with you? Our Carnegie Library has received the gift of the Smithsonian display, “Voices and Votes: Democracy in America.” It is only here until May 10^th so go see it!!

As for today, go vote. Your voices and your votes count. Men, your votes count too.

Go vote!

Another year for the Pleasant Lake Lions Club

Ralph is a staple at every Lions Club Variety Show...and yes, he is hilarious!

 

Lights! Camera! Action! Here we go again! You ask, “Now, what show are you talking about?” I am glad you asked. This Saturday night the Pleasant Lake Lions are at it again entertaining you. This show has been in existence for 70 years. That is amazing. How many folks have come and gone singing and dancing and telling the lovely corny jokes? The stage whispers of their long-ago voices as the ensemble once again takes over at the Dale Hughes Auditorium.

I have been a participant in this show for several years with characters like Lily Tomlin, Minnie Pearl, or the Bride of Frankenstein! (The Frankenstein show was hilarious!) Every show has a theme, and the songs reflect that theme. The ensemble sings the songs and in between there are jokes and walk throughs! This year the theme is the Game of Life. Under the direction of Tom Adamson and Mary Ramsey, this year’s musical story goes through the stages of life with lots of songs you will know!

Rehearsals for the ensemble started a couple of months ago on Sunday afternoons. We gathered in Pleasant Lake to learn the songs and sing together. We have invited Judah and Sean from my Trine theatre, and they are joining us in song and in their fun showstoppers!

After being in the show for several years and knowing so many of the good folks in Pleasant Lake, I decided to join the Lions Club. No, I don’t live in Pleasant Lake, but I guess I have been forgiven by all of them. I knew it was something I wanted to do, but I didn’t realize at the time how deeply committed folks were to this long-going club and all the good they do in the community. I do say “they” as I probably am not as good a club member as some of them. I go to meetings…sing in the show…help a little with fund raisers, but I guess I leave the rest to them. The Lions members take their roles very seriously from cleaning up the beach to providing pickle ball courts to making sure the parks and areas are clean and always ready for you to visit.

Our local chapter is just one of 50,000 clubs with 1.4 million members. These chapters help out all countries in the world including disaster relief and supporting refugees in war-torn countries. They also provide children with eye exams and glasses. All of the money earned by our fund-raisers and this show goes right back into the community. I am sure those are the real reasons I joined. You can even be a big part of this by attending our show on Saturday night! And, you know what? If you cannot give a donation, that is okay too. We want you there.

When the curtains open, we will be smiling and singing for you. Are we a perfect choir and ensemble? No! I think that is what makes it wonderful. We are just regular folks singing our hearts out to you…telling you jokes and hoping that for a couple of hours we take you back in time. This year we take you back to dating and courting, marriage, and past that. I am sure you will know the songs so please sing along. There is 7^th inning stretch in which you all get to stand and stretch and sing with us. The words will be in your program, although I doubt you will need them!

Tom is a fun director. He goes from playing his guitar to the karaoke machine to his own whistling. Adding to the fun Lee Saur pulls his harmonica out of his pocket when we sing “Country Roads.” One night while we were rehearsing and watching the monitor that is our lifeline thanks to Mike, we came to the song “On the Road Again.” Tom likes to tell us little tidbits before each song, but when we got to that one, he put down his guitar, looked at us and said, “I feel like I am on the road again with my friends as we do this show.”

I feel like that too. I think the Pleasant Lake Lions Club has enriched my life in so many ways. I have made connections with lots of different folks and found ways to serve our community.  See you Saturday night!

“The life I love is makin’ music with my friends

And I can’t wait to get on the road again.”

Willie Nelson

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Holly is my very favorite star!!

 

The family with Holly!

I love flying after dark. It is lovely to watch the beauty of towns lip away into the darkness with the sliver of a moon and the planets to guide the airplane. I settled back with my new book and the small reading light above. I always have a new book (yes, a  new hard-copy book) for the trips I take. It is quite delicious to open it up to page one and begin a new journey.

After a while, I feel a nod coming on, but the gentleman next to me began a conversation. He was from Maine with the purest accent. His job, as it turned out, is a ferry boat captain in Maine. I told him about the love I have for Ocracoke, and the ferry rides I took there. He looked at me with an interesting look and said the name of his ferry is The Ocracoke. They buy used ferries from other places. We had a good chat about ferries and islands and soon we landed.

My trip was a popcorn visit to Charleston to see Abe’s family. My usual holiday visit was put on hold to go to Florida for Adam’s wedding so now I had the chance to visit before ramping up for my own tech week. So, you ask, why did I choose this past weekend to visit with all the show work ahead of me? There is a simple one-word answer. Holly.

Unbelievably, Holly is a senior in high school this year and their theatre department had their spring musical this past weekend. Nothing could have kept me away as it was her last high school show. I love knowing that I played a role in her love of theatre as she and Brianna have been active participants in my LaGrange summer theatre for the past several summers. In fact, Holly helped me write one of the shows. She loves acting and was always such a role model for the other young actors.

Holly attends Wanda High School with a population of 3,000 students. It is a public school with a focus on the arts. They are at the top of the state for their art’s programs featuring music, theatre, dance, and graphic arts. Holly had small parts in the shows before this one, but she was cast in one of the main roles in the show, Chicago.

I don’t know if you are familiar with the show written by John Kander, Fred Ebb, and Bob Fosse. It premiered on Broadway on June 3, 1975, with 936 performances. It was directed and choreographed by the brilliant Bob Fosse. I first saw it in New York City years ago, and when Holly told me that it would be the show for her senior year, I was definitely surprised. Now they have an amazing theatre department with an equally amazing director and lots of resources at their fingertips, but still, Chicago?  It is a huge show with so many moving parts.

Holly was cast as Mary Sunshine with speaking, singing and dancing parts. There was absolutely no way I was going to miss this show even with the time crunch I felt. The theatre was full for each production with over 600 in attendance. The set was gorgeous and to top it off was the sign, Chicago, over the whole stage lit up in stage lights. Abe was brought in for consultation for the sign and then had the pleasure and the knowledge to build it. It was the perfect addition and brought a shout out from the director. Abe and Kristin went to opening night while I watched the twins and then we all went on Saturday night sitting in the second row. The show was electrifying from beginning to end, and, of course, I could not take my eyes off Holly. She was perfect…she really was, and she was in her element. So was I. Each show was topped with a standing ovation!

The popcorn visit gave me time to be with all of them from helping in the yard to playing with the kids. It was full of fun and memories.

By 4:00 a.m. on Sunday I was back at the airport and coming home to my own show which opens this weekend. Theatre is not everyone’s cup of tea, I know that. But when it is in your blood, you are hooked for life.

Congratulations to my lovely granddaughter and to the cast and crew at Wando High School!

 

The Director's Circle!

 

Sean and I after the dress rehearsl!

I know many folks love March Madness. I do too. Seriously. I look forward to March Madness every year, and sometimes the madness spills into April. I am not talking about basketball! Confused you a bit, didn’t I? No, I am talking about theatre. It seems as if most schools and communities delve into theatre during the winter months to bring you brilliant pieces of theatre for March and April. My own calendar is dotted with shows…some are mine…but most are around the area.

And why theatre? Why even do theatre? What is the purpose? Anton Chekhov once said, “You should feel a flow of joy because you are alive. Your body will feel full of life. That is what you must give from the stage. Your life. No less. That is art: to give all you have.”

So many folks I know did theatre in high school or early years of community theatre as a young adult. Me too. I loved theatre in high school. I loved anything about getting on a stage! I kid around a bit saying I was once in the NFL. True story. The high school version of NFL is the National Forensic League. My biggest competitor in high school was Shelley Long. Of course, most younger people don’t even know who I am talking about anymore. (By the way, in case you are one of those, she starred in Cheers!) While we were in high school, we had no idea how our lives would spin. She went to Hollywood. I went to college. Sometimes I think back on those days of competition. She was always the one to beat…we took turns.

Those of you who have been a follower of this column know that I got the love of theatre from my dad. In his early years he was a great actor and contributor to the Fort Wayne Civic Theatre. I used to go with him to the rehearsals…hair up in pin curls, pajamas and a housecoat, and slippers. “You must be quiet,” he said. I always had a bit of a hard time being quiet, but I knew if I talked or made any commotion, I wouldn’t get to go back. It was marvelous. Of course, my parents didn’t send me with my dad so I would choose a life of performing. It was simply to give my mom some relief time.

Sitting in that dark theatre night after night and watching my dad was pure gold. Now I sit on the other side of the stage with Lydia, my assistant director. We have become such a team. We respect each other’s work and ideas. Always.

This past weekend we attended the show Arsenic and Old Lace at Gaslight Theatre in Kendallville. I love the show and I directed the show at Trine three years ago. One of the stars of the show (indeed, there were many) was Sean Carpenter. When Sean and I first met, I did not think I realized the talent he kept hidden. In Dracula he just had a bit part carrying lanterns and helping backstage. But Sean was the kind of guy that stepped in wherever and whenever needed. This past weekend Sean was the director of Arsenic in Kendallville. I was invited to the dress rehearsal with Lydia. We took my two Kathy friends and off we went.

Sean was wearing his Arsenic t-shirt. So was I, but a different one from our show. There were only the four of us at the dress rehearsal, so Sean sat with us. I watched the show with one eye and one eye on this new young director! It was hard for me to see a different cast and echoes of voices from my Trine students filled the air. Sean said it took a while to get those images out of his head too, but after a while he was able to see his cast.

After the dress rehearsal, the cast swarmed down upon us. (Well, there were only four of us!) We loved the show. I asked Sean, “So what do you prefer? Directing or acting?” He immediately replied, “Acting!” Nonetheless, Sean, you are now in the director’s circle.

So many shows are coming your way for March Madness. Go see them all, if you can. Students, community members, teachers all try to work their magic while you are there. It is never perfect. That is what live theatre is all about.

Congratulations, Sean, for a job well done!

 

After the snows of winter...

 

One day after I wrote this story, I found this treasure in my garden!

With the melting of the snow, comes my first big walk around the garden. I do mean walking around and not just leaning over my porch railing, which is something I do every single day. By day I lean over my railing, by night I sit out on the bench waiting for the free show…night after night. This weekend came the first stroll!

Now I traipse around the garden as if I am going on a treasure hunt without a very good map. The Autumn leaves are still gathered in bunches on the flower beds as I leave them to become winter homes for eggs and larvae. Did you know the abundant summer fireflies live inside those leaves? Shh…let’s not wake them up quite yet.

But there are signs in the garden. My daffodils are now sprouting up four inches. I have bunches and bunches of them waiting to share their beauty and color to this old garden of mine. The crocuses are just pushing up and probably by next week, their petals will appear amongst the leaves and any new snow that could yet fall. Let’s move on to the chives which are starting to uncurl in a tiny pattern. The forsythia bush has small shoots also just begging to bloom and color the sky golden yellow. In case you missed it, the turkey vultures are back as well as the red-winged blackbirds. These are the most visible signs of spring, but I know there are rumblings under the ground. With the rain forecast, I am sure the earthworms will begin to wiggle their way out of the ground. Oh, how I love those earthworms as they are nature’s way of tilling our gardens!

March is such a lovely month…come in like a lion or go out like a lamb! Here in northeastern Indiana, it has indeed come in like a lamb, so we know what that means. I have not seen too many kids outside playing or bike riding yet, but I am sure that will change as we move into March. But besides earthworms or daffodils, today is a splendid day for sky viewing. If you were up early this morning, there was a slim chance to see the full moon amongst the clouds. The moon was at its fullest at 6:38 this morning. I love the March full moon as it has so many names from different cultures. We know it best by calling it the Worm Moon. I always thought this name meant the earthworms would be crawling about (and they will be), but I made a little discovery this week. Some scholars think the name came from Captain Jonathan Carver, an early North American explorer, in 1760. Old stories say he chose the name, Worm Moon, due to beetle larvae from tree bark. After reading that, I really loved the earthworm story best of all! What are the other names for this moon? Sugar Moon. Wind Strong Moon. Sore Eyes Moon. Goose Moon. Crow Comes Back Moon. (That one is my favorite!) Hopefully you were able to see one of those moons!

Not only was the moon full this morning, but a lovely phenomenon occurred around the same time. (I do apologize for not sharing this last week!) From 6:04-7:02 this morning, if you were watching, you were in for a lovely treat as the moon turned Blood Red for the total lunar eclipse. I do hope you were able to see it.

I think March is a perfectly lovely month even as we navigate a bit of rain and mud. The blue skies of the weekend were a harbinger of what is to come. I even hung laundry out on the line!  To me, laundry on the clothesline is a perfect way to welcome back a spring day!  Winter isn’t quite over yet, I know. We all know that one more snowstorm will probably come our way, and that is okay. I always wonder, “Is this the last snowfall?” We are all ready for March. Bring on the earthworms, and the wind, and the sky of blue. We welcome you. Who better to welcome spring than Emily Dickinson!

Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest—
Did you leave Nature well—
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me—
I have so much to tell—

Late Winter Sunrise and watching the Night Sky

 

Late Winter Sunrise off of my Balcony

Last night, as usual, I sat outside on the bench in my backyard. Maybe this is the favorite part of my day. Often, I carry a cup of tea; although sometimes it is cold before I even get to the bench! Last night was no different. The steam dissipated in moments. Nonetheless, it was stunning.

The sky is always beautiful in the winter. There is something about the sunsets that bring a catch in my throat as I enjoy the beauty. Last night the waxing gibbous moon played hide-n-seek with Jupiter as we also say farewell to Saturn. I wish everyone would take a few moments outside at nighttime just to reflect on the day and be away from all distractions…if only for a few moments.

Once when I was at Hamilton, we did Moon Journals. The students decorated the covers with stickers and drawings of the moon. The idea was to record every single night what they observed. Sometimes it was just a gray sky or rain or fog or snow. Other times, the brilliance of the moon and planets did take their breath away. They were always excited about their journals and loved sharing them in class.

As I sat last night, the reflection from the moon and the nearby streetlamp cast a pale glow on the snow. Memories flooded back to me as they often do.

Waking up to snow days was so magical. No elearning! (I would not have done well with that.) But, listening to the door creak open as my mom whispered, “No school.” What makes a child happier than that? As I look back, I think, ahh…sleeping in would have been good, but who wants to waste a day. Time to get up and dress and head outside to play and back in for cocoa and back out for play. I know moms fret those times in and out with children. The worst part of a snow day was when it was over. We always hoped for another one, but usually just one at a time. My children were the same way out the door for the day, back in for lunch and back out. Luckily, and I do mean luckily, I did not grow up with social media or phones and neither did my three sons. Their fun and joy was outside, and it did not matter what time of year. They were always outside in the winter playing, ice fishing, ice skating, doing chores.

In my childhood, there was also skating at McMillan Ice Rink…every single night. I was such a good skater even wearing my grandpa’s jacket from The Big One. I always went with my girlfriends as we did not talk to boys, at least not yet. We walked to the rink even though we lived a mile away.  No one ever had rides to anything! We carried our skates over our shoulders and made our way through the park. Oh, not on the sidewalks. Oh no. We walked through the open areas stopping to make snow angels and help each other up. We always helped each other up. Once at the rink, we changed into our skates leaving our worn winter boots by the benches hoping someone would steal them. No one ever did. We skated til the rink closed and we had to go home. Again, walking home in the dark. No one ever picked us up. The snow sparkled like diamonds and rubies and emeralds. I always laughed and said that someday I would be rich with those jewels. Of course, that day never came. Nor do I want that day to come. I want my riches in love and kindness and humanity. I don’t care about other things.

Reaching our street, we walked down the middle of the street still chatting as cars swerved around us, I mean, we were the ice skaters. Arriving home, I hung up my skates and my grandpa’s jacket in time for meat loaf and mashed potatoes. The house was warm and cozy, the table set. It was a lovely childhood, and winter was magical.

I do hope these past few days have been fun and magical for kids and for families. How wonderful to spend time together to play games, or to take walks. It is about letting children be children. I envy you, parents, who still have children in your care. Enjoy them. Let this winter be full of gratefulness. Spend time with your children. They need you.