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!!

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

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

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

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.

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.