Life is a circus

Ellen and I drove in rain for most of the morning after leaving Jonesboro.  Ellen and I always stop and buy lottery tickets on our travels along with snacks and all the things we know we should not eat. The car was filled with empty Coke cans, coffee cups, Pringles and so many more that I cannot mention without adding calories as I write.

We were tired too. We were out every night until after Midnight. We never miss a moment of the Storytelling Festival. I read the entire USA Today to Ellen and spent an hour or two on the state news. We could not believe all the events that we could be doing...a canine agility festival in Florida, the hot air balloon festival in Albuquerque, the opening of an art museum in Cleveland...well the list went on and on.

Finally the sun came out just as we left the mountains and fog behind us. And there in front of us was a traveling circus. I fumbled around in my bag for my camera, put down the window and took a few photos. As I put the window back up, we were rewarded with a wave and a honk from the truck driver.

I am thinking that life is a circus...at least my life usually feels like one.

This is my favorite photo.  Keep an eye out your car window...one never knows when you will come across a circus.

Jonesborough, Tennessee...What more can I say?

Click here for this week's column.

This week's column is written from Jonesborough, Tennessee. This is the 40th year for the festival, and it never fails to entertain, enrich, and encourage me in my own week.

I have spent two full days from morning until after midnight listening to tellers from all around the world, yes even from Wales this year.

This year I spent most of my time with The Greats, those I consider to be the Masters of this ancient art. To name a few...Jay O'Callahan, Judith Black, John McCutcheon, Gay Ducey, Laura Simms, Donald Davis. These are the folks that have helped shape my work during the last few years. I admire their skill, talent, and hard work.

I didn't see Donald much last summer, so it is nice to see him with his bow tie on the streets of Jonesborough and watching Merle glide her way through the town appearing here and there.

There is one more day until Ellen and I head home on Monday. It is a bit rainy and cold, but don't stories keep us warm? So from the heart of the storytelling to your warm, cozy houses full of light and heat (maybe), this is Lou Ann sharing her own love of stories.

The Burning Bush

These beautiful bushes surround my front porch. My porch is old with windows that still have the ropes to do the work of opening and closing them.

My neighbor built screens the first year I lived here so I can live on that porch any time of the year. It is furnished with old wicker furniture and my guitar.

Right now, of course, there are hats and boots that belong to the local witch and pumpkins that light in the night. The door is surrounded by lit up spiders!

These bushes surround this porch giving me an eye on the world, but yet a bit of privacy for late night conversations.

As you can see, it is raining in northern Indiana today and the rain is beaded on the leaves.

What is outside your front porch?

What is your beauty?

Here is another lovely view of northern Indiana on this beginning of Autumn.
This weather keeps me outside as much as possible, except for work!

I would love to share photos from your hometown as well. I know that all places of this world are beautiful, especially this time of year. So, go ahead, send me a photo and I will make a few guest posts during this month. Be sure to tell me where this photo was taken and a little about your hometown!

October's Bright Blue Skies

Dear Friends,

Here it is the first of October. The full harvest moon was spectacular this weekend. I watched the moon rise at Pokagon State Park while square dancing under the night sky. It was the perfect night for this event.

Sunday dawned bright and beautiful as well. I took my little boys to Pokagon again to have breakfast at the dew-glistened park. We then played for hours and took photos.

For the month of October I will post a photo of Autumn from wherever I am.

These photos for today are from Pokagon this weekend. 

These poetic lines were taken from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in his poem "Autumn." Enjoy and thanks for reading.

 

Autumn

 

Thous comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,

With banners, by great gales incessant fanned.

Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,

And stately oxen harness to thy wain.

Thou standest like imperial Charlemagne,

Upon thy bridge of gold, thy royal band

Outstreteched with benedictions o'er the land,

Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!

Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended

So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves,

Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended

Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves,

And, following thee, in thy creation splendid,

Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

 

Longfellow

 

 

 

 

 



September's Harvest Moon

 

 

Here is the view of the earth on the full moon tonight, September 30!

This moon is also known as the Harvest Moon. This week's article tells you all aboout the folklore of this moon and how spectacular it is. As always, thanks for reading and enjoy!

 

Lou Ann

 

Click here for this week's article, "Shine on this glorious night, harvest moon!"

The Gypsy Life for Me!

Last week end was the Fall Fest and the Civil War reenactment in my small town. I spent three days telling stories and strolling the town and battlegrounds.

I had pretty good company as I mingled with Samuel Clemens (he looks good after all these years, although is still very arrogant), Abe Lincoln (who could lose a few pounds by the way), Frederick Douglas and Benjamin Franklin. Ben's wife was there as well and I wanted to ask her about her husband's affairs in Paris. I don't think she would have believed me!

I sang, told stories and read a few fortunes along the way. I had one group of folks ask about gypsies. I told them they often sing, dance, tell stories for coins and then move on. They ask what I do for a living. "Well," I said, "I tell stories, sing, and teach for coins and then I move on."

So now we now where the gypsies settled. My back yard.