A Closet Full of Hats

Planning a GOH

2011-10-04T19:34:00.000-07:00

Once again I am planning a GOH (a Get Outta Here). During our June trip to Washington, D.C., we ran out of time to see a few of the places that were on our wish list. My oldest granddaughter, Megan, was excited to see Mount Vernon but when we got there, we did not have enough time to view the grounds and the mansion. She and Jim had a ticket for the Holocaust Museum and we had to rush back to D.C. I promised her that we'd get back there. A few weeks ago she reminded me of this promise so we picked a weekend that worked for her and we started planning.

This is the type of trip I love..the kind that lasts a few days but is full of adventure. I have been to Mount Vernon and Monticello in the past but I look forward to seeing them again and sharing the experience with a sixteen year old.

If all we are lucky, the leaves will be in full color as we drive through the mountains of Virginia.

Wish us luck!

Opening Day - 2011

2011-03-31T09:22:00.000-07:00

The pulse of a high school marching band drew me to the window. The Findlay Market Opening Day Parade was underway so I grabbed my lunch and relocated to the conference room. From 14 stories up only the most graphic floats and banners were recognizable but the parade was fun to watch nonetheless. Even at my lofty perch, I could hear the cheers and clapping of the spectators as the military groups marched by. I love that we honor these men and women, no matter our political views. I t was a shame that the weather was so cold and my grandchildren could not be at the parade. Brody would have loved watching Lightening McQueen and “Mater, cruising in front of Mack, the 18 wheeler. I also could not collect the coveted candy from up here so I had nothing but observations to share with them later. I watched for my favorite part of the long and elaborate parade and soon I saw four pair of Clydesdales pulling a shiny red wagon south on Race Street. Even though I have never been enamored with horses, I love the massive horses that prance proudly with their hair done up and their feathers brushed. I fell in love with Clydesdales at a County Fair in Boise, Idaho. In the early morning before the rodeo ground events, we were permitted to visit the stables and watch the preparations for the horses’ performance. Grooms meticulously braided their manes and brushed their coats. Each stall had an engraved plaque with each horse’s name as they stood patiently, enjoying the attention. Dressed up and ready to go, they were hitched to the tall, shiny red wagon then preformed precision drills around the rodeo grounds. You could tell, even from the grandstands, that these horses loved what they were doing and did it well. If I ever am crazy enough to own another horse, it would have to be a draft horse. Oh, yes, and I would have to win the lottery just to afford the feed, the stable, the handler and the ranch. So don’t look forward to riding any percherons or Belgiums at my house in the near future. Sorry. But for now, I’ll just sit back and enjoy more of the parade before I turn on the ballgame to listen to the Red’s first win on this chilly, opening day.

Delta Queen Adventure - Part One

2011-01-16T19:38:00.000-08:00

I kissed my husband just before 9 am and left for Tennessee. The sky was clearing so the drive promised to be rain and snow free. Traffic was surprisingly sparse and I made good time as I headed south.

After a couple of hours I arrived in the Renfro Valley for my first stop along my route. It had taken two hours to reach the Kentucky Music Hall of Fame. The parking lot was completely empty so I thought I had come on a bad day. However, when I got closer to the building a sign announced "We are Open!" I parked, headed in, paid my $7 then toured the small museum. It was very nice and had lovely displays which I had totally to myself. Ahhh, the benefits of traveling off season.

My favorite exhibits were of Jean Ritchie but I also got a kick out of the kilt owned by one of the Everly Brothers. There were instruments made by Homer Ledford and a quilt sewn by his lovely wife.

I bought a few postcards, a pin or two and even a guitar pick before heading back to my car for another leg of my trip to Chattanooga.

My Holiday

2011-01-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

I’m taking a holiday. Just me, solo, by myself to somewhere I have wanted to visit for a very long time. Neither my husband nor grandson is interested in the location I have chosen. I will drive at my own pace, eat where I like, peruse stores and museums and even sleep-in if I choose.

I call this a holiday is because to me, the word vacation invokes stress. A holiday is a day from work, from commitments and from the same old same old everyday life. When most of us think of a “vacation” we begin planning, organizing, scheduling and compromising. Where does the family want or need to go? What do they want or need to bring? Where will they eat besides the golden arches and when. Who desperately needs a bathroom break even though we stopped ten minuets ago? Finally, arriving at the destination does not end the work that needs to be done, especially if the family is camping .

Now mind you, vacations are wonderful and enable us to have quality time with our family. However, some times we just want to relax and enjoy. That to me is a holiday

Sometimes we will go on a trip with friends and we humorously call that a “Get Outta Here.” Our van even has a license plate that reads “VANGOHS” announcing that this van is ready for some fun. There are times that being with a group makes the whole time more enjoyable. Many of my best trips have been just me and Jim or weekend trips with a friend or two. We try to make just the most necessary of plans and stay very flexible and open to opportunities. Our friend Tim coined the word “Planidippity” to describe this method of making a plan but including the serendipitous moments that come along.

While I do love vacations and GOH’s from time to time, I also love a day or two by myself… a holiday.

For my first “holiday” I am heading south to Chattanooga, Tennessee to spend a night on the historic Delta Queen Steamship.

I hope to post from the Queen.

2010

2011-01-02T19:55:00.000-08:00

Another decade dissolved. It was an interesting one and I will ponder long and hard before I begin to write about its ups and downs. I will say that I am thankful for those years. Every day that the good Lord grants me is a blessing and I appreciate them all.

No real resolutions for 2011, just hopes. Hopes for good health, good friends, good music, good travels and good thoughts instead of bad. I will attempt to post more often and I will attempt to write as much as possible. No promises, just hopes.

I guess 2011 can be my decade of hope.

Veteran's Day Memorial

2010-11-07T20:27:00.000-08:00

I was walking through the library at lunchtime a few weeks ago and as usual checked out the window boxes for the Veteran's Memorial. I excused myself as I stepped in front of a gentlemen who was standing close. As I finished checking out the memorabilia the gentlemen asked me a question, "Why did you stop?" I told him I stopped often because I had seen a photo of my Uncle Benny once and that I always find the display very touching. He asked me a few questions, took my picture and then in early November, he wrote this article.

Library memorial – By Cliff Radel for the Cincinnati Enquirer.

Last year, 1,408,323 patrons used the downtown public library – and, entered a war memorial. The entire building is dedicated to Hamilton County veterans who lost their lives in conflicts beginning with World War I.
Thirsty for knowledge, throngs of people pass by the Veterans Memorial display in the library’s lobby. Few stop.
Prudence Hunt visits at least once a week. “To me, this memorial is for all veterans,” the legal secretary from Fairfax said in hushed tones, “It is a place of remembrance and celebration.”
She always remembers her uncle and she celebrates the freedoms he fought for and lost his life defending. “He was the first soldier from Newport to be killed in the Korean War,” she said of her uncle, Benjamin Bristow. He was just 19.”
She looked at the Great Seal of the United States, dated “1954” and set in a brass circle on the floor. Her eyes followed the words inscribed on the seal’s rim:
“Dedicated to the many of Hamilton County who while in the armed forces gave life itself for God and country.”
She looked from the seal to an open book in one of the memorial’s display cases. That’s the book of homage. It lists the name of every Hamilton County veteran killed in combat since World War I. Every week, the case is opened and the page is turned. Another list of heroes appears.
Hunt read the names on the page in silence. They reminded her of her uncle.
“I have his uniform and the telegram my grandmother got from the government when he was killed,” she said. “I even have some of the records he made while he was over in Korea. They made those records instead of writing letters.”
The records made it home after his mother learned he had been killed.
“No one’s ever listened to those records,” Hunt said. The sound of her uncle’s voice was too painful for her grandmother to hear. After all of these years, the pain still lingers. Hunt can’t bear to listen to the records either.
“I’m going to give his things to the library,” Hunt said. “I don’t want them to die with me. I want them – and his memory – to live on.”

Sweeney Update

2010-09-29T07:47:00.000-07:00

The Sweeneys will be playing at the Cincinnati Celtic Festival on Fountain Square on October 3, 2010. I am delighted to be playing and I don’t feel the least bit guilty for having booked us. We work hard and we love sharing our music. Plus, I booked us at no charge to the festival so it’s a win-win. Booking the others was fun….in the beginning. However, I now know why booking agents are paid. Its all the crazy questions, requests, and demands that we receive that make us second guess our efforts.

On a personal/band note, the band we call the Sweeneys is taking a hiatus after the Celtic Festival. Tim will be working on some solo projects and enjoying his new granddaughter. Peg & Jim & I will continue to play as Arabella until Tim's return. The difference in the groups has to do with the energy that Tim brings to the band. Arabella is softer and performs more ballads. Tim drives the Sweeneys in upbeat, fun music that makes us shake the stage as we all get into the songs.

Ladybug, Ladybug, Fly Away Home

2010-09-29T07:42:00.002-07:00

My latest quilt, simply called “Ladybug” was sewn and quilted with the intention of donation. Tim Kelly's niece, Katie, put together an amazing charity to help Children’s Hospital in Cincinnati. Her son, Spencer, was born with a brain tumor and thanks to the amazing doctors at Children’s, he is a healthy, rambunctious toddler. Katie Kelly Shipley formed Spencer’s Army to raise funds to enable the hospital to help many more children. The least I could do was donate a quilt. I don’t have much money but I do have hands that can help.

Oh, My!

2010-09-29T07:42:00.001-07:00

How can it possibly be more than a month since I posted a blog? I originally thought I would have at least 5 entries per week, if not more. Now my life is so busy that I can’t find time to write about it. I know its narcissistic to want to but that’s what it is. I love writing and blogs are fun. What more can I say?

College Essay #1

2010-08-25T13:17:00.000-07:00

I finally was graded on my very first college essay. We were to write about an epiphany we have had in our lifetime. I submitted it almost a month ago and I've been a nervous wreck waiting to see my grade and read the professor's comments. He liked it and even said he was moved. Wow, I couldn't ask for better than that. I received an A!!!

As for the photos, I've added a few from the 54 times I have moved in 57 years. Actually for the past 18, I have lived in the same house so the first 53 were before I turned 40. The last one is from the condo overlooking the ocean from when I was "poor".

Misreading the Signs Along the Way

There had always been signs that we were poor, but as a happy child, I paid them no notice. We might have had less than what others had,but children were starving in faraway China and just down the road in Appalachia and we were not. My stepfather said poor was a term for people whose obstacles were insurmountable. He instilled in us the concept that we could be anything we set our minds to and no obstacle should stand in our way.

Because we moved often from apartment to apartment in the river city of Newport, it seemed only sensible that we did not have many material objects. Our basic possessions were well cared for and we owned them outright. We kept ourselves tidy and clean and most importantly, we had good manners and good ethics. All seven of us could squeeze into the cab of our pickup truck when the back with filled with furniture and household items. My grandparents and two of my aunts, who believed walking was more sensible, didn’t even own a car. Poor people couldn’t possibly afford such a usual vehicle.

I didn’t even notice the signs that others had more when I left the heat of the city to spend summers with my relatives in the country. To me they were only richer than we were because they did not move every year and at their house, I shared a bed with my cousins and didn’t have to sleep on the sofa like at home. For two lovely weeks in the summer we enjoyed a backyard with grass where we could run through sprinklers and play. Best of all, no one made us drink a full glass of water before each meal or mirror each forkful of food with a bite of bread. For family vacations, Lou would load us in the back of the pickup where we would ride on top of a bed of straw covered by blankets. We would travel to a state park where we strung up a lean-to between trees. Hotdogs on sticks were roasted over a campfire after a day of fishing and swimming in a nearby lake. Tom Sawyer would have envied our fun.

We did not even feel poor at Christmastime. To make holiday cash, our family would take the pickup truck to a nursery and my stepfather and my brothers would spend the day cutting fresh pines that we sold in empty lots downtown. With that money in hand, all five of us would tag along with Mother on Christmas Eve and shiver outside of stores as she bought presents. After shopping we would rush home to enjoy warm cocoa and cookies. We felt as rich as kings as we trimmed our own little tree with popcorn strings and ornaments made from tin foil.

We were not at all like the sad children that we saw on television with raggedy clothes and dirty faces. My mother bought me new five dresses at the end of the summer so I would have one for each day of school. The day before class began, we’d trek to Tom McCann’s for our new pair of shoes. Mother made us take good care of them so we would slip them off each afternoon when we came home. Bare feet were fine for running around the house.

Living quarters were always tight in our small apartments in the city but we managed to fit in whatever space we found. My four brothers always shared the second bedroom while I, with pillow and blanket, would stretch out on the sofa trying to sleep as my parents watched television. Most nights I was awake when the Al Schottlekotte Spotlight Report began at 11 p.m.

When I started high school we moved to yet another apartment with only two bedrooms but this time I had a place of my own. Actually it was just the end of the hallway but I was moving up in the world. Mother bought a twin bed mattress, hung up a curtain and at last I had a bedroom. Somehow still the signs of our poverty were not flashing in my mind. It was not until I was invited to the homes of classmates that those signs began to appear. My girlfriends lived in one-family houses with bedrooms of their own, adorned with pink bedspreads and lacy curtains. Their curtains were so fine, frilly and surely expensive that I was almost afraid to touch them. My own curtains were plastic and easily replaceable by a quick trip to the dollar store.

I was shocked to watch my friends just walk to the fridge and take out a pop or grab a snack from the pantry. At my house, we never had to think about what to eat. Dinner was whatever mother made so there was no need to stand with the refrigerator door wide open. We knew that our fridge held only milk, butter, and day old bread.

It was during my second year of high school that I began to heed the signs that we had so much less than others. I became self-conscious of our plastic curtains and plastic dishes. Unlike my friends, our pantry was never full and we bought our dinner groceries every day. Mother had to wait until Lou came home to send us to the store, hoping that he had made money that day. If not, she would send us to the market with one of her keepsake silver dollars. She had three of them, one dated 1884 representing her father’s birth year, 1898 for her mother and 1926 when she was born. My brothers would ask the storeowner if they could buy the silver dollars back on Friday when mother was paid. Thanks to his kindness her treasures were always returned with Friday’s groceries.

After my brothers were grown, I had to make the trip to the store often with the same request. On one such Friday, while waiting for the walk light, I looked up at our plastic curtains blowing out of an open window. The signs in my mind flashed more brightly than that traffic light saying, “You are poor”. “You are poor,” they shouted as I climbed the four flights of stairs with our dinner. “I am poor,” I moaned as I dropped the grocery bag on the kitchen table.

Having finished high school, with no hopes of college, I took the easy road to success and married a man with money. We lived in a condominium overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. He bought me a diamond ring and a car that was shiny and new and I had more than five dresses. We vacationed in Europe and skied in the Rockies. “Finally,” I thought to myself, “I am no longer poor.” However, the signs in my head only flashed more brightly. He had married me for my looks and I had married him to have what I thought were the right things. Neither of us was happy so the right things became the wrong things. I knew that I was now truly poor.

I left the possessions I foolishly believed would give me joy and once again had little. No matter. I still had good manners and slightly tarnished ethics, and still had the love of my family. I had never really been poor. The proper signs had always been there but I had listened with my head and not with my heart. As my stepfather had said, poor describes people whose obstacles are insurmountable. I, however, am rich.

Time to Find Time

2010-08-16T14:13:00.000-07:00

I haven't been blogging lately. I've just been too busy. Sadly not all of it has been fun stuff and a bit of depression seemed to creep in. I need to write, it purges my soul and helps me deal with the good and the bad in the world.

Even though late July and early August have been rough, there have been some very good moments as well. The bus trip to Chicago was great and I had a little bit of quiet time to enjoy. I just walked around the city and skipped the museums and shopping meccas. I enjoy the diversity of neigbhorhoods and landscapes and took some great photos of the boats on the lake in early light.

I must find more time to write...I miss it.

A Hero's Farewell

2010-07-08T12:26:00.000-07:00

I attended the funeral of a hero today. Spc. Russell Madden was the son of a friend. Russell's father, Marty, and my husband, Jim, both attended grade school together in Bellevue and after high school played in the same rock band for a few years. That's how I met Marty, when I started dating Jim and hanging around their band practices and gigs.

I never met Russell but by the way he was described in the media, he must have been much like his father . Marty was always the happy band member, joking with me and the other girlfriends and taking time to befriend my young daughters. For some reason I can't remember, they called him "Cupcake".

I was on my great detour when Russell was born but through the stories I have heard, he was an amazing man. He was a football hero, friend to many, father, husband and brave soldier.

It was touching to see the outpouring of support and love today. The military was clearly proud of their brother in arms and demonstrated profound respect. The roar of the motorcycles, ridden by the Patriot Guard Riders, moved the soul.

I am not Catholic and have only attended about a dozen Catholic funeral masses but the mass today, with 8 priests, a monsignor and a bishop was an honor to the character and commitment of Russell. Incense carried prayers to heaven as music and voices filled the air. Two young sons, dressed in camo fatigues, placed roses on their father's casket. God was present in that place.

Along the funeral procession to the St. Stephens, cars pulled to the side of the road, in respect. We passed strangers who stood with hands in salute and some with tears in their eyes.

At the cemetery, we cried with the Maddens. We cried at the folding of the flag, the presentation of flags to Russell's wife, father, mother and sons. We stood proud, some weeping as his fellow soldiers fired a 21 gun salute and a distant bugler played taps. We gave our condolences to Marty and his family but words seemed so meaningless at such a moment.

We were proud to be there. Proud to be in the company of our fallen hero, Russell Madden. But we were also proud to be in the company of all the men and women in uniform who were not only there to serve their fellow soldier but to serve us each day. We pray that they will not have to pay the same ultimate sacrifice, even though we know they would.

God Bless America and God Bless Russell Madden.

Simple Pleasures

2010-06-21T20:13:00.000-07:00

Tonight I went to dinner with two friends, Carol and Jo, to celebrate their mutual birthday. We ate outside at a lovely restaurant near Hyde Park Square, an upscale community close to our homes. We shared a bottle of wine with dinner then strolled past the shops, window shopping as we headed for coffee. Once again we sat outside enjoying our coffee and desserts while we chatted for hours. It was the first day of summer and I will remember this solstice for quite awhile, knowing it will be among the best days of 2010.

Al & Tipper

2010-06-02T13:01:00.000-07:00

I was so sad to hear that Al & Tipper Gore were separating. As many other people commented, they seemed like the perfect couple. I met them both in 1997 and they fit their descriptions to a tee. He was stiff and robotic and she was prettier in person and quite charming.

No one knows what can cause two people to grow apart but I hope for them, their children and grandchildren that they stay good friends nonetheless. It gives the rest of us hope, too.

The Gathering at the Breaks - Day One

2010-04-27T16:37:00.000-07:00

Jim dropped me off at Roberta's house exactly at 7:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, April 25th. Mary Ann was already there and packed so we were on our way in just a few minutes. Following the google map, we drove on one of the skinniest mountain roads I've ever seen and decided that on our way home we would look for a wider route.

We pulled into The Breaks exactly at noon, gave hugs all around for old friends and began to make new ones. Not able to check in until 1:00 p.m., we started the gathering off with a meet and greet for an hour then drove up to the set of rooms that had been hand picked for our group. The views were breathtaking. I will have to warn that it would not be comfortable for anyone with a fear of heights!

In the afternoon we had a workshop on songwriting, a delicious dinner at the Lodge restaurant and then a "swarp", the Appalachian equivalent of our ceilidhes.

Summerfair 1974

2010-03-02T11:37:00.000-08:00

My ex-husband, Chris, posted baby photos of Chandra for her 37th birthday.

I wanted to post this photo in particular as it shows one of the last Summerfairs at Eden Park. It was an awesome "hippie" event back in the day.

It is now an upstanding and respected arts festival but for us, in the 70's, it was a "Happening". You knew all of your friends would be there taking in the great rock music and being part of thousands of interesting people roaming about.

For Cincinnati, it was the original "party in the park".

Mimi Weekend

2010-03-02T11:26:00.001-08:00

I spent the last weekend in February at my daughter's home, taking care of her four children while she and her husband had a well deserved trip out of town.

Nick came over with me and joined Megan, Chase and Brody in the media room to play endless hours of video games and watch movies while little Kalee and I worked on one of my quilts. She was very attentive and loved my colored threads. When we weren't sewing, we watched the skating review and Kalee spun around the room, putting her arms in the air like the skaters.

Being a grandmother is a gift, just plain and simple, its a gift from God.

Sweeneys at the Covington Library

2010-02-27T17:30:00.000-08:00

Our band, the Sweeneys, was honored to be asked back to perform at the Covington Library on Saturday, February 27th to kick off their St. Patrick's Day/March celebration.

We played an hour's worth of Irish and Scottish themed songs. We had a great time and loved seeing familiar faces in the audience.

The Sweeneys are Tim Kelly on bouzouki & guitar, me on vocals & guitar, Jim Hunt on bodhran and percussion and Peg Buchanan on fiddle. We have fun.

Happy Birthday to Me

2010-02-25T08:37:00.000-08:00

Today is my 57th birthday. Wow, just like everyone else I know, I find it hard to believe that so many years have flown by. There are few complaints about the first 57th because I believe that we learn from mistakes and mishaps. I will continue to work at being the best that I can be and to try and pack in as much as possible in each moment the good Lord grants me. I appreciate all the good wishes and happy thoughts sent my way today.

The Music Cafe - February 23, 2010

2010-02-24T05:36:00.000-08:00

I was honored to be asked back to the Music Cafe at the Fitton Center in Hamilton. The volunteers and the audience are warm, inviting and generous. I actually sold four CD's!!! Jim joined me on percussion and we were requested to do The Mirror which is a Music Cafe favorite. I attempted Anathea for the first time and it went over just fine. We can tweak it and with Peg's fiddle and Tim's harmonica it could be a great Sweeney song.

I was surprised that Always Thinking of You was the most commented song last night and it was the reason we sold four CD's. Thanks to our grandkids for inspiring that song!

Montreal Extras #1

2010-02-19T18:43:00.001-08:00

A few more photos from Montreal

Nick and me at the steak house

Montreal - Part Four

2010-02-19T09:41:00.000-08:00

Sunday, February 14, 2010
Happy Valentine’s Day

Our final day in Montreal began with one last breakfast of oatmeal and raisin toast and then packing and loading bags and instruments on the bus. We picked up an interesting young man named Ronald who gave us a guided tour of Montreal including Saint Catherine’s Street, Mount Royal, St. Joseph’s Oratroy, The Old Port and Jacque Cartier Place. He explained not just what we were seeing but what we were experiencing during our trip. It was great to learn that the long, long dinners were custom and not slow service. We learned that Montreal had an extremely low crime rate, has more festivals than any other north American city and that you can move through most of the downtown without coming up from the underground. The underground is a series of subways, shopping malls and travel corridors built below the streets. We shopped and had lunch just under St. Catherine Street which is the main shopping area in Montreal. I was surprised that there was so much going on underground given that the street level sidewalks were packed, as well, when we were there.
After lunch we were invited to an Open Dress Rehearsal with West Island Youth Symphony. Their symphony orchestra consisted of not just strings but also horns, woodwinds and percussion. Wow, they were phenomenal, performing both the Butterfly Lovers and the Firebird while we listened and watched in awe. We had a brief social gathering in which our kids didn't really talk to their kids but sadly stayed in their normal little cliches. The kids from both orchestras posed for a group photo and then we boarded the bus for the long ride to Niagara Falls.

Monday, February 15, 2010

We had spent the night on the American side of the Falls but in the morning we passed back into Canada for a performance at the Visitor's Grand Hall beside Table Rock above the Falls. The kids played better than ever and the sound was amazing in spite of the fact they were surrounded by glass and marble. Visitors from all over the globe listened, took photos and recorded the Mariemont High School Orchestra. I got chills thinking that they would now be seen all over the world. Thus we decided they need a banner indicating who they are and where they are from. We chaperones plan to work on that project this Spring.

After lunch and a tour behind Horseshoe Falls, we were back on our bus for what we had hoped would be an 8 hour drive home. Due to the heavy snowfall in southern Ohio, our trip instead took more than 12 hours. We stopped in Mansfield, Ohio for dinner and were informed that I-71 was shut down near Columbus due to a large pileup of cars. John headed back north to a route he knew and we reached Lima, Ohio then headed south on I-75 instead. The roads weren't too bad until we reached Dayton, Ohio where the roads were covered with snow. John reassured us that the weight of our bus would help us get through and sleepy parents were called to pick up the kids and cargo at 3:00 a.m.

It was a wonderful adventure!

Montreal - Part Three

2010-02-19T07:23:00.000-08:00

With a busy day planned we met in the hotel dining room for an early breakfast before driving two hours to Mont-Tremblant for a day of fun in the snow. It took longer than expected to get rental gear but the kids still had time to hit the slopes. Nick decided to snowboard, thinking that it would be more like skateboarding. After all the kids had boarded ski lifts, we chaperones took to the shops. We also found a warm and inviting pizza restaurant and had a lovely lunch.

Unfortunately, there was trauma before the afternoon was over when three of our students didn't make it back to the bus on time. Two chaperones stayed behind to wait for them, learning that two of the three had just taken a trail that went to the wrong side of the mountain. However, the other missing student had been injured and was taken to the hospital to be checked out. Thankfully, his mother, who was born in Montreal, was one of the chaperones and also spoke french. Her son was a bit shaken and hurt pretty much all over but his tests turned out fine.

Another two hour drive and we were back at the hotel to dress up for our evening at the dinner theater. John the Bus Driver got us as close to the Le Festin Du Gouverneur Dinner Theater in downtown Montreal as possible but we still had an icy, cold walk down a long city block to the warm restaurant. The wind chill must have been about -20 degrees. It was worth the walk becuase the dinner theater recreated a 17th century banquet and once again the kids were included in the show.

We were happy to receive an update on the student at the hospital when we returned to the hotel. His tests all came out clear and he and his mother were on their way back to the hotel.

Montreal - Part Two

2010-02-18T06:51:00.001-08:00

Friday, February 12, 2010

After a quick breakfast at our hotel, the orchestra loaded their instruments on the bus and attended an orchestral clinic with Alexis Hauser, Director of the McGill Symphony Orchestra. After the clinic, a young student named Matt gave the kids a tour of McGill University. He made it sound very desirable and more than a few are now considering school in Canada.

Driver John got us safely through the tight streets of old Montreal and the instruments were unloaded at the Basilique for safe keeping while we lunched at the famous restaurant, McDonalds. We finished our yummy lunch (yes, it was better than at home) and spent a moment or two of souvenir shopping and then headed back to the Basilique for a concert in the breathtaking cathedral. After tuning there was no time for the planned guided tour so the docent stood with the orchestra and pointed out the many marvels of the grand basilica.

Just before their performance at 3:00 pm, Chris Davis and I were escorted to the closed, second balcony so we could photograph and videotape the concert. All of the parents and grandparents shed a few tears of joy and pride as the Mariemont High School filled the grand sanctuary with Mozart and other well played pieces.

In preparation of our next adventure, we arrived back at the hotel to change into warm clothes for our one hour bus ride to the Sugar Shack. The bus was greeted by a team of draft horses pulling a large, red sleigh. At the Sucrerie de la Montage we were talked through the steps of sugaring, given a tour of the bread cabin where 90 loaves a day are made from scratch by a gentleman in his 80’s, which was followed by a feast in the largest cabin. We learned during our tour of Montreal that dinner out is a social event in itself. The courses are individual and spaced so there is time to take pleasure in the food, the company and the conversation. Nothing was rushed as we spent over two hours just enjoying the many courses which included the freshly baked bread, pea soup, mashed potatoes, sausages, quiche, meat pies and, of course, for dessert, pancakes with fresh syrup.

Music was provided by a very entertaining French speaking host who actually had the kids singing, dancing and marching through the room. Fun was had by all!

Montreal - Part One

2010-02-17T13:28:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, February 10th

School was closed for a snow day so we gathered at Mariemont High School at 1:45 p.m. to give the orchestra time to run through their Mozart once more. As the kids arrived we collected their information and passports and were ready to board the motor coach when it arrived. We left the school grounds just a bit after 4:00 p.m. and headed for Erie, PA where we made our first driver switch at 11:00 pm before heading east to Syracuse, New York, then north into Canada.

Thursday Morning, February 11th

We made it to the Canadian border at 3 a.m. and everyone was asked to wake up and sit with passport in hand as the customs agent came through the bus. She asked a few questions and then sent us on our way. We made our last driver change in Brockton. The kids loved John, the driver who would be with us for the rest of trip. As he got out of his car, the kids noted his pony tail, his boots and his cowboy hat and for some reason he was dubbed "Chuck Norris". He fit the bill with his long rider coat and his deep voice. As the trip progressed, he definitely lived up to the name as he maneuvered us through some mighty tight streets and highways.

We picked up our tour guide, Gary Mandel (yes, he is related to Howie), who first took us to breakfast at Brisket Montreal just a bit after 9:00 a.m. The restaurant was ready for us and served up plates of steaming french toast and fruit.

After the museum we were dropped off for some free time in Old Town Montreal where we strolled the cobbled streets and checked out the many shops. Even though we had just eaten, the kids decided to stop in at Crepe Suzette, a little restaurant with mouth watering crepes and soups.

We met up with our bus and drove to the Hotel du Fort to change for dinner at the a LeBifteque Butchershop for a marvelous steak dinner.

Last but not least for our first day in Canada, we were treated to a concert by the Arion Baroque Orchestra at Redpath Hall at McGill University. The musicians were so precise it could have been a recording but not only did they play beautifully, the stories with the songs sounded much more intriguing due to their heavy, but lovely, accents.

Finally, back to the hotel for some much needed rest.

Kitchen Fever

2010-01-19T19:14:00.000-08:00

Jim did a lot of work on my kitchen this past weekend. We have the base cabinets in place and the countertop is set. Our new black stove comes on Friday.

We had a bit of a set back when the new countertop was installed. Seems the base cabinet under the sink area is smaller than the former and our large stainless steel sink did not fit. We found another tonight that we like so tomorrow we install the new sink and faucet. After that the doors will go on the base cabinets, then handles and then I can put everything back. We will also need to replace the cabinet we installed over the stove because the new over-the-range microwave needs more space. Thank goodness for the IKEA rail system because we only need to detach from the rail and put up the new.

I also have to finish the tiles on the kitchen floor and decide on a wall color. Next a new kitchen exterior door and there's a black dishwasher that caught my eye. This will hold us until spring when we are going to take it all down, refinish the walls and put a window over the sink. We discovered that there had been one there years ago (more than 20) and we will have to open the hole on the inside and cut through the siding on the outside. Ya gotta love old houses! So much to do but we're doing our best!

Pinwheel Quilt

2010-01-19T19:07:00.001-08:00

I'm working on another baby quilt. This one is made of bright pinwheels and will be quilted with bright purple, blue and pink threads. I am also working on my charm quilt which consists of different fabric for every square. So far I have 144 squares in the project and thanks to Julie and Jo, I have more pieces to put in.

Snow

2010-01-05T14:10:00.000-08:00

I left home once again this morning to a light snow. It was dry and soft and made me think of fairy dust. I brushed it off the windshield and windows with just a sweep of my glove.
Nick had hoped for enough for a snow day from school which seemed just a bit greedy after a two week holiday break but snow days are precious jewels of childhood. Complaints of icy bus stops are forgotten when the choice is one's own on whether to go outside or stay indoors.
However, today's snow was just enough for a soft blanket of white covering the gray landscape of winter. I smiled all the way to work.

Happy New Year

2010-01-04T07:11:00.000-08:00

It was snowing today as I left for work...tiny, gentle snowflakes. Ahhh, I love snow.

I try to empathize with those who do not. It's cold, it's slippery, it disrupts lives. However, we choose to live in a climate that promises snow in the winter and unbearable heat in the summer. I bite my tongue when others complain, wanting to tell them to move somewhere else if they despise the inevitable. I respect that everyone has the right to their own feelings but for me, I love each flake.

I miss the winters I spent in Idaho where it stayed white and fluffy, piled high for months on end. There was never a disparaging word about snow when we lived near a ski resort. I am not able to live there now and I miss it. In truth, like anywhere else, we had a trade off in Idaho. The summers were short, springs were muddy and we had no lovely fall foliage.

I admit that I am guilty of whining about the heat and humidity when July and August roll around but I choose to live here so I guess I'll just have to think of winter as sweat beats on my brow. Ahh, I love snow.

Children's CD #2

2009-12-29T20:48:00.000-08:00

Once again my fellow singer/songwriters have stepped up to the plate...or should I say microphone. At last count we have ten songs confirmed for our second CD project. My musician friends are generous souls. We can again hope to produce a CD that can be enjoyed by kids of all ages and benefit children's charities. I am blessed!

Time to Breathe

2009-12-28T14:39:00.000-08:00

I can hardly comprehend that its the end of 2009. I haven't had a chance to write on my blog for a month and its stressing me out. This blog is like a friend who I can talk to and who keeps my life in print. I forget things now that I'm old (yes, 56 feels very old lately) and it is nice to have a place to come back and check on myself. Writing on a blog makes me think a bit harder about how I sound on paper instead of "I went to the grocery...I bought cat food". I like keeping a bit of myself that I can find at any time. No matter where I am I can just access a computer and there I am in cyberland.

So the world can see what I write...again, it keeps me on my toes.

I hope everyone who reads this has had a productive, happy and healthy 2009. I wish you a happy 2010. Let's all try to make ourselves and our world just a wee bit better every year.

Love,

me

"Dragon Chase"

2009-11-20T05:14:00.001-08:00

I finished Chase's quilt and took it to his birthday celebration. He was, of course, excited about cake, ice cream and about a million new Lego pieces from the Lego store and an awesome Transformers chess set!

The quilt from me and the $$ from Poppie were appreciated but they will be more exciting the next time he is cold or broke. Its hard to go up against Lego's and Transformers. He is a really cool guy.

Happy Birthday, Chase!

Dragon Chase

2009-10-27T19:31:00.001-07:00

My next quilt project is one for a grandson. I found fabric with large images that I can stitch. Its the first one I've tried without patchwork.

Ariana

2009-10-27T05:47:00.001-07:00

My latest quilt has been named "Ariana". I made it for Tim & Doreen's daughter Corey who is expecting their first grandchild. The photo doesn't show it well, but there are little red hearts quilted into the white squares. I hope she likes it!

Page 25

2009-10-20T13:52:00.000-07:00

After I bought a new book today, I turned to page 25 and inscribed my name, just as my mother had always done. Her fine, graceful strokes wrote out my whole name, long, taking up half the page. My handwriting has become rough and clumsy since my right arm was shattered and most times I shorten to initials.

Long ago, I'd come home from school and check the mailbox for the package from the book-a-month club, anxious for a new story and a new page to be autographed. Mother’s evenings were spent sewing or knitting so I would read aloud, shifting my voice to fit each character, lifting and falling with emotion and circumstance. I’d pause as I reached page 25, dragging a finger across the lovely blue letters, newly penned, spread like ivy near the binding of the page. My name looked magnificent, a tangible symbol of my mother’s pride. In the beginning it fell toward the back of the book but soon page 25 came early as my preference grew for thick books, full of descriptions and characters and far away places. Our lonely apartment could come alive with reference and imagination and mother and I would drift away, planning our own adventures.

We traveled, when I was grown, through Louis Lamour’s west and on Jack Kerouac’s highways, on rivers and oceans, hearing foreign tongues, matching stories and characters to places and people along our way.

I read silently now but I still write my name on page 25.

Kitchen Confessions

2009-10-06T12:27:00.000-07:00

For the past week and a half I've tried writing about the kitchens I have known. It started as a writing exercise at the memoir workshop. We were to write our favorite and least favorite memory of the kitchen(s) where we grew up. I have had over four dozen kitchens in my lifetime and they all hold good and bad memories. The average for anyone my age would be eleven kitchens, holding that the "average" American moves every five years. Times have changed for my family and October marks the 17th anniversary in our present kitchen. Before our last move, I had never had stayed in one kitchen longer than 18 months. Sadly the current kitchen has been "under construction" for the past 17 years but if all the planets align and we keep our health, it may be finished in my lifetime.

I've started to write about these kitchens, the center of the universe of most homes. My mother loved to cook so we spent a lot of time there. I didn't have my own room for most of my childhood so it was where I did homework, worked on hobbies and played cards with my mom. My memoir, Kitchen Confessions, will be a collection of light and dark memories.

How about yours?

Quilting

2009-10-01T20:50:00.000-07:00

I don't yet know what to name my newest quilt. It was designed for a little boy I have never met but I work with his grandfather and know John Michael will be an interesting and intelligent child.

This is the third quilt I have created this summer and fall. I sew them completely by hand and find the work enjoyable and relaxing. It's inspirational to go into a fabric shop and grab colors and fabrics that can become a piece of art.

This is also the first quilt in which I used templates to quilt the block. Each solid has a different design and then I just criss-crossed the nine patch squares.

My Daniel Boone Hat

2009-09-25T19:04:00.000-07:00

Tonight I am enjoying a quiet evening at the historic Boone Tavern Hotel in Berea, Kentucky. My friend Carol and I came down a night early to attend a Saturday morning workshop. Jason Howard, an author and musician I met at last Spring's Gathering of Writers at Greenbo Lake in Kentucky is presenting a Memoir Workshop at the Loyal Jones Center on the college campus. We drove down in late afternoon, had a pleasant dinner at a local coffee shop and then walked around the shops near our hotel. My favorite was simply called The Quilt Shop. The walls were covered with amazing handmade quilts and bolts of fabric decorated the back of the shop. I bought a few colorful pieces and we chatted with the owner for a few minutes. The quilts were quite pricey - $700 to $1000 each but having quilted two this summer, I know that the price is very fair considering the number of hours that go into each.

Happily, I also found a groundhog puppet. Gizmo will be so pleased. He can't seem to stay away from the snacks, however.

Sweet Mary

2009-09-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

Like most of the folk community, I am heart sad to hear of Mary Travers' passing.

I saw her in the late 1970's at Bogart's in Cincinnati. She was on a solo tour but she included songs we knew from PP&M. She was just a bit heavier and older than my vision of her but the voice remained the same. She did not need Peter & Paul to book end her vocals, she carried them well on her own. No one in the crowd was disappointed to hear her band doing a wide variety of songs, not just the folk classics to which she added her perfect harmony.

I loved her sultry voice, her long, flowing, blond hair, her comfortable stage presence and her flirty smile. Of my musical heroes and inspirations, I have seen most of them in concert over the years .... and I am glad that Mary was among them.

Hamilton Farmers Market

2009-09-12T13:39:00.001-07:00

I was joined today by the Sweeneys at the Hamilton Farmer's Market. Jim and I played there a month or so ago and the two hours seemed longer. With Tim and Peg the time sped by. Carol Mahan and Papa Joe showed their friendly faces and took a few photos of us. We love it when our friends come out to see us. It makes us feel like we don't suck too bad! (That's an inside joke for those folks who criticize and "grade" other musicians). After our set we bought some fresh produce from the local farmers and some candles from the Candlemaking Hippies. No joke, that was their name.

We had lunch at a local cafe and conducted a bit of a band meeting. It seemed ironic that there was also a Hippie item on the menu at the Riverbank Cafe. I was sensing a theme.

We've agreed to get into the studio and work with our buddy, Dan, to record a demo CD. Should be fun.

After lunch we did a bit of bargain shopping on our way home then attempted a nap. Why is it the phone doesn't seem to ring all day and then it rings four times in a half hour when you are just dozing off?

Fountain Square - September 10, 2009

2009-09-10T19:45:00.001-07:00

The Sweeneys (me, Jim, Tim Kelly & Peg Buchanan) played on Fountain Square in downtown Cincinnati. It was great fun. Friends and strangers both listened to our wide variety of songs. The sun came out just as we started our set which brought smiles to our faces. Papa Joe snapped this photo before he took over after we finished.

Bohemidippity Quilt

2009-08-26T20:31:00.000-07:00

I added the first border to my Bohemidippity quilt. Jim said it still looks too small but I promised that the borders will add width and height. the black border is pretty wide but I wanted a wide border to add a stitched design. Black on black, I'm thinking.

Sweeney/Treehouse Hat

2009-08-23T19:03:00.000-07:00

This morning three of the members of our band, The Sweeneys, held practice in Tim & Doreen's tree house. It's a lovely screened in room out past their yard, hanging over a hill above a creek. The weather was perfect and we had a great time singing songs to the trees. In the background was a chorus of goats belonging to a neighbor across the hill. A hawk added his voice from time to time and the buzz of humming birds was lovely. Doreen has an amazing yard that invites birds, and snakes, to enjoy its beauty.

Being in a band can be a lot of fun, but communing with nature as we have a practice is bohemidippity for sure!

Back to Blogging

2009-08-21T18:26:00.000-07:00

I've been home for five days. Five days of work and five days of catching up. However, I have not been blogging. Its not that I don't want to and I can't even say that I haven't had time. What I don't have is photos. During the wind storm that came from the west while we were camping in Carlsbad, I threw my laptop into the car to be safe. Doing so, I later learned that my card reader was inserted in a side slot and was damaged. We muddled through somehow, getting it to work from time to time but now it says no more. The housing is busted and the picture card just sits out in the open. It weird to think that all this little bumpy circuits hold so many precious memories.
Since I don't like to post blogs without photos, I'm having a tough time trying to find something to write about. I guess that means I'm writing about not writing.
Tomorrow I must go find a new card reader or all the thoughts in my head will explode!

Day Ten - Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

2009-08-17T11:08:00.001-07:00

We had planned to treat John & Vicky to breakfast but they outsmarted us and had french toast waiting when we finished our showers. We sat for a few hours enjoying their company and listening to John play a few songs. They are truly beautiful people. We thanked them profusely, promised to work a Get Outta Here toward their neck of the woods and then bid a fond farewell until next time.
Six more hours on the road and we made it home safe and sound. However, the grass was tall, the tomatoes dying and the house hot and stuffy. Back to reality. Oh, well. Its the ying and yang of life.

Day Nine - Good Friends, Good Music

2009-08-17T11:02:00.001-07:00

Enjoying the relaxing tone of our vacation, we got a start around 9 am and headed for Tennessee. We stopped along the way to stretch our legs but Jim was comfortable in the driver's seat so he got us to Jackson, Tennessee earlier than we had planned. In an earlier phone call we had told John & Vicky that we weren't going to be there in time to take them to dinner but hopefully breakfast the next morning would be okay. We pulled in around 7 pm local time and hoped to take them out but due to our previous call they had eaten. They insisted on cooking something for us against our protests and they sat and chatted with us while we enjoyed a wonderful spaghetti dinner. After food, there was music. Good music. John and Vicky are accomplished musicians and I enjoyed playing the many classic guitars John kept placing in my hands. I was especially fond of the small parlor guitar from the 1920's with the big sound. When we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer, we all went off to bed, having had a wonderful day.

Day Eight - On the Road Again

2009-08-17T10:56:00.000-07:00

On Friday, August 14th we drove and drove and drove. Jim was excited because the wind from the west gave our Hyundai such a boost that we were averaging 44+ miles per gallon as we headed east toward Texas. The speed limit was 70 almost all of the trip with a few spots that reached 75. However, the local traffic, especially in the flat of the plains, exceed 90 to 100 mph.
We stopped on Friday night in Oklahoma City, swam for awhile then had a late dinner before sleeping soundly at our motel.

Day Seven - Good Company

2009-08-13T20:37:00.000-07:00

We didn't make too many plans today so we could just spend time at the house together. We talked about future visits and a family trip to Alaska in a couple years.
I will miss my New Mexico family. The drive was well worth it but next time we might fly.
We're leaving early Friday morning to get half way to Jackson, Tennessee. It will be nice to spend time with the Lecroys.

Day Six - Relaxation

2009-08-12T21:21:00.000-07:00

For us sleeping in was early for our hosts but late for us. The two hour time difference is fading in our body clocks but we still wake up much earlier than the rest of the family. We drove down to Albuquerque to look at campers but didn't stay long because of the heat.

For dinner we enjoyed pizza handmade by Phillip and baked in their outdoor pizza oven, also handmade by Phillip.

By checking my emails I learned that Blackmore's Night will be in concert in the USA in October. Tickets went on sale at 12:01 on August 13th. I had mine as soon as I could type the info for Ticketmaster. Cleveland, here we come.

Day Five -Heading North to Rio Rancho

2009-08-12T20:26:00.001-07:00

After breaking camp we were in the car again heading north to Rio Rancho. We stopped in Roswell for alien ice. Yum! Next we shopped for a few minutes at our favorite store. Liz and Lizzie rode with us and the six hours sped by.
We hoped to catch the meteor shower but the ambient light was too bright so we settled in and got a good nights sleep.

Day Four - My Spelunker Hat

2009-08-11T20:33:00.001-07:00

After a delicious camp breakfast we drove back to Carlsbad Caverns National Park to tour the cave. I had not planned on joining the family in this adventure but they convinced me to come along. Thank goodness they did. The cave was phenomenal. We walked about a million miles and then came back to the campground where I crawled into our tent and promptly fell asleep.

Day Three - Beware of Bats Hat

2009-08-11T18:56:00.000-07:00

Early in the morning we moved to a larger campsite and set up our tent. I met an interesting woman named Kelly who is a schoolteacher, traveling around the US on her summer break. She was quite adventurous and was doing it solo. She had seen the bats a few nights before and went back because it was so wonderful.

There was no shade so we headed for the pool. Needless to say, we got nasty sunburns. The wind picked up and all the unpacking and camp set up had to be tied down and repacked. As you can see from the leaning tree, its pretty constant. We had sixty mile an hour winds that whipped the tent so bad we filled it up with as much as possible so it would not blow away.

In the evening we jumped in our cars to drive the 32 miles to Carlsbad Cavern. Heading out of the campground, my worst nightmare came true...there was a huge snake in nearby. To our amazement, it was being bullied by a road runner. I learned that road runners eat snakes. Circle of life.

We arrived at Carlsbad in time to get seats for the bat flight. The park ranger gave a short presentation then the bats did their show. Wow, I cannot describe how awesome a half million bats can be. They swirled out of the cave in a counterclockwise vortex and then headed north.

Back to the campground we slept well....except for the sunburns.

Day Two - Westward Ho to New Mexico

2009-08-09T12:50:00.000-07:00

We had reached Oklahoma by morning light and stopped for gas and coffee at the Seminole Nation Travel Plaza. With coffee mugs in hand, we refilled then went to pay. The clerk refused to take our money for the refills since we had brought our own cups. We insisted but she smiled and answered - It's only coffee! This had to be the most un-Starbuck comment ever spoken.

A couple hours later, we had breakfast at IHOP mainly because they offered free wifi. I checked in with the world and then we headed west again. During the afternoon Jim spotted a thrift store from the highway so we checked it out and bought shorts and a shirt. We briefly ran into a Walmart to pick up something for a afternoon picnic lunch and I bought some 1/4 yards of fabric to add to my quilting collection.

Texas was hot, very hot. At least there was a breeze but the breeze was hot, too. The heat was the least of my worries when I saw the warning signs at the rest area regarding the rattlesnakes.

Hours and hours more driving then we had to decide whether to stop for the night or just keep going. We had already gained an hour and knew that another was waiting when we crossed into Mountain time. A cell phone call to the in-laws made us chose the "just keep driving, driving, driving" option.

We rolled into Carlsbad at midnight mountain time, took a quick shower, then slept beneath the stars, too tired to put up the tent. We saved hugs for morning when we wouldn't smell quite so sweaty.

Day One - Westward Ho to New Mexico

2009-08-09T12:13:00.000-07:00

Being Hunts, we got a late start on Friday morning. However, we had already decided and agreed that we were on vacation and schedules did not apply. We were casting our fate to plannidippity, the best way to travel. The first leg of our trip went well, at least until west of Carrolton when we saw a sign that said road construction 4 miles. We had thought of taking the river route on 42 but knew this would slow us down quite a bit. Unfortunately, it would have been the faster way to go. As we learned at the top of the next hill, where we found ourselves at the tail end of several miles of parking lot. We car danced to the Ragbirds and enjoyed each other's company not allowing this to deter our joy.

We stopped for lunch at the Hard Rock in Louisville then headed southbound.

Heading west on the by pass to Route 40, we came upon another parking lot between Nashville and Jackson, Tennessee. Nine hours after we left, we met John & Vicky Lecroy for dinner. This was dejavu of our last trip out west when it took ten hours to get to their home which normally takes six. They took us to an interesting restaurant at the Casey Jones village. We look forward to stopping for a longer visit on our trip home. They invited us to sleep over but we were already hours behind schedule so we drove through the night, taking turns at the wheel. We stopped at a rest area west of Memphis after we crossed into Arkansas but the smell, the heat and the bugs were more troublesome then driving in the wee hours. With plenty of good homegrown music mixed in with some Moody Blues, we were serenaded by Mike Helm and Bromwell Diehl and Ashley Peacock. One day into our trip, we were finally making progress.....or so we thought....

Stitch by Stitch

2009-08-04T15:28:00.000-07:00

I have almost completed Kalee's birthday quilt. It is bright and colorful and I have named it "Bee Happy". I am excited it give her something handmade for her first birthday!

While choosing fabric for her quilt, I found some colors for mine which will be named "Bohemidippity"...my new favorite word. After reviewing over a dozen books with quilt patterns, I decided to go simple on both to make it more pleasant and less stressful. I usually knit in the cold months and quilt in the warmer ones. Its surely a form of Zen mediation. If a pattern requires too much focus and becomes work, why bother. Hobbies should be fun, not taxing, in my opinion. With quilting, it all looks good so the pattern doesn't always have to be too complex.

Simplicity, serendipity, bohemidippty....I sense a theme!

Hamilton Farmers Market - August 1, 2009

2009-08-03T18:55:00.000-07:00

The voice, like the rest of our body, needs time to wake up. Mine woke up around 10 a.m. last Saturday which would have been alright except for the fact that I started singing at 9 a.m. It went well though. I just had to coax it out a bit more than usual. Two hours of singing without Peg or Tim to help fill in the spaces is a bit daunting at any hour but from 9 to 11 on a Saturday morning, it was good experience. I was pleased to have enough songs that I could share and I only repeated two, Tom & Huck and Banks of the Ponchetrain. Jim's drums added a lot and he did his usual great job on the sound system. Carol snapped this shot during a happy song. She met us at Hamilton and after the set, we said hello to a few of the market vendors then loaded up for the GOH to the Dublin Irish Festival.

At the festival, my first objective was to see Niamh Parsons. There are never enough "chick" singers at these events, mostly bar bands and high energy entertainers. I'm a ballad singer and I love to watch a good ballad singer live. Niamh did not disappoint. Although I have to admit that I was a just a tad bit envious. She has a guitarist and she only has to sing. Sounds like a luxury that I could get used to! (It's Monday and my fingertips have just stopped hurting from the two hours of guitar playing in Hamilton)

Magic on the Square

2009-07-30T10:56:00.000-07:00

I heard her voice as I crossed south at Sixth and Vine. As I reached the square the guitar started to carry. Bounding up the steps I grabbed a seat near the sound board and said hello to Claudia, Anna's mother. Booking Anna & Milovan was one of my best accomplishments for Acoustic Thursday on Fountain Square. All of the musicians who I bring in are capable and worthy. However, over the three years I have been booking this event, no other artist has literally stopped traffic. Yes, it was foot traffic but people stopped in their tracks to listen to this amazing girl, accompanied by her father, Milovan. Anna sang her classics, her blues and a few of her originals. Folks flocked to Claudia's table to purchase the newest CD. I was among them.

Neil Jacob was the logical artist to book for the same day as Anna & Milovan. An awarding winning classical 12-string guitarist, he too held the crowd's attention. Listening to his version of Bolero, enormous in its presentation and filling up the square, folks were mesmerized.

Today was one of the few times I saw the lunch crowd turn their chairs to the stage and stop their conversations. In my three years of booking Acoustic Thursday on Fountain Square... today I definitely got it right.

Summer Love

2009-07-27T09:05:00.000-07:00

Jim has developed a green thumb. Last year he experimented with tomatoes and this year he has quadrupled his efforts. He spends hours working on these lovely plants and now they are on the deck, in the driveway, in the back yard and hanging in pots. We're actually going to have someone "tomato sit" while we go on vacation!

I certainly don't mind...I love him and his tomatoes.

A Day of Rest

2009-07-26T20:25:00.000-07:00

Rest is an interesting term. How do we rest? Do we do absolutely nothing or do we take our rest by doing something that calms our soul and gives us joy? I believe its the latter.

We have had a very busy summer and its been a lot of fun but also a lot of stress. Just this week I helped host a house concert, checked on artists performing on Fountain Square, took photos at Edensong, attended a day of the Dayton Irish Festival besides a busy work week at the law office. Jim and I have decided to TRY to make Sunday our day of rest. We made no specific plans for today and just did things we enjoyed. Jim re-potted and worked on his tomato plants. I practiced for my set next Saturday and worked on my granddaughter's quilt. I took my quilting with me to the house concert and to Edensong. So many of my friends are knitters and quilters so we enjoy working on our projects while visiting or listening to music. Jo and I exchanged fabric swatches and Karen showed us the sweater she has almost completed. It soothed my soul.

I have loved quilts since I was a small child sitting under my grandmother's frame and she and her friends and family stretched their pieces and bound them with thread.

In 1976 I submitted a photo of one of my quilts, just a plain block quilt, to Summerfair and was accepted. I can remember the day I received the acceptance letter. The quilt wasn't much to look at but it was art. I improved over the years and actually made it into five Summerfairs. Summerfair was more of a local art fair in the 70's and the fact that my quilts were entirely sewn by hand helped with my acceptance.

I seem to forget how much I love to make things, especially quilts until I get started. Going into a fabric store, looking at all the colors and patterns, gives me almost as much joy as going into the acoustic room at Guitar Center. It is all art and I love it.

Working on Kalee's quilt also reminded me of those days sitting with my cousins under that frame. It also brought this poem:

I Lie and Watch the Needles Dance

In cool grass beneath the colors
I lie and watch the needles dance
the women talk of recipes
and family news and circumstance

As I lie and watch the needles dance
the sun peaks through the lightest square
as hands come underneath to pull
each trail and line is stitched with care

As the sun peaks through the lightest square
I point at pieces that I know
that pink is a dress that’s grown too short
that blue a blouse without its bow

I point at pieces that I know
not a scrap will go to waste

my brother’s pants of corduroy
a shirt and pants and pillow case

Not a piece will go to waste
these nimble hands have stitched them all
cool blue and earthy brown
red and orange likes leaves in fall

These nimble hands have stitched them all
calicoes and stripes and plaids
white lines bind them side to side
on a frame built by my grandpa’s hands

Calicoes and stripes and plaids
all joined by hands to make a quilt
as I lie and watch the needles dance
beneath the frame my grandpa built

As soon as Kalee's quilt is finished, I'll take a photo to post. The theme is bees since her name is Buswell (buzzzzwell)

Jim took this photo of me, my daughter Star and my cousin Barb at my spot at Summerfair in 1978. He was running sound nearby so we enjoyed a busy weekend at Coney Island

Haircut

2009-07-23T05:16:00.000-07:00

I went to see Rosanne on Tuesday and she gave me a new "do". I love my new haircut and just about danced out the door.
I had very long hair for many years and Jim would trim the ends for me when I needed it. Going in to have someone actually study my face and cut my hair to suit me was a treat. Thanks, Rosanne!

Why I Wear a Hat

2009-07-20T14:13:00.000-07:00

Isn't it wonderful that your friends look at you and for the most part, see the best of you. I guess that's why they don't notice when your hair is sticking up in the air and could totally use a thorough brushing. This must be why as a child, I was required to have my hair in neat plaits down my back. It doesn't help that I have an unfriendly face. It's not that I'm unfriendly, I hope people think I am friendly, but I just don't usually look that way. I have a mouth that curls down instead of up, putting an ever present frown on my face. My forehead has just enough furrows to look like I'm having a bitter thought most of the time. So add the messy hair and I have a face that just doesn't seem at all welcoming.

When I emceed at Edensong last Friday Phil took a photo or two of me. Its always a nice gesture when folks return the favor of preserving your life in film. I've been known to take a few million photos of friends myself. Unfortunately I am not at all photogenic and I noticed that this recent batch of photos only shows my grumpy old woman side. I wasn't at all grumpy on Friday night. I was having a wonderful time introducing the five fabulous acts of Edensong. To top it off, on the way home my husband told me I sounded nervous. I wasn't nervous, except when he yelled from the soundboard that I said Norwood was in Kentucky, not Ohio. I checked with my friend Carol and she agreed that I sounded a bit nervous. Hmmm, so I looked bitter and sounded scared.

Well, what is there to say. I can't have a do-over on the nerves or the grumpy expression. I do, however, want to set the record straight. I was not nervous on Friday and I definitely wasn't grumpy. I had a great time.

I am going to start staring in the mirror and practicing a happy face. Those smile muscles need some exercise. If you see me and I'm not looking happy, tell me to smile, brush my hair and unfurrow my brow. I would so like to look my best and I'm terrible at remembering to do so.

I am a happy person, I promise! Photos lie!!!

Busy Bee Hat

2009-07-08T10:37:00.000-07:00

Wow! It has been a busy, busy summer and so far its been a very enjoyable one. Nick's baseball team had their last game on Tuesday so that frees us up just a bit. Last weekend was one of great music! We went to Edensong on Friday night then spent Saturday at the Citifolk Festival in Dayton. Carol & Bunny came along and we sat near Carl & Deb & Lilly Claire Colon during the concerts.

I am working on a couple of writing projects and looking forward to this fall's Gathering at Kentucky Lake.

Jim, Nick and I are anxious to drive to New Mexico to see Lizzie and her family in August.

For now, I just need to find more time to write, and that includes this blog.

4th of July

2009-07-02T06:15:00.000-07:00

I am excited about the Fourth of July this year. It will be the first we celebrate with our new President and with new hope.

We will miss the fireworks this year in exchange for a "Get Outta Here". Our little village always enjoys the display that streams up and off the hill at Ault Park, lighting up the sky with distant, quiet "booms". For the past 16 years we have walked the few blocks up to the bank parking lot where we unfold our lawn chairs and join our family and friends, chatting until the night is dark enough for the display from the park. We appreciate them sharing their celebration with us.

This year we will celebrate freedom of expression - one of the most important freedoms that we enjoy in our country. Citifolk in Dayton is presenting their annual World Music Festival and Jim and I and our friend, Carol, are taking the new GOH van up to enjoy music and food and celebration. Besides the Duhks and Bela Fleck, there will be musicians from around the world sharing their culture and art.

Our constitutional right to freedom of speech and expression is one we enjoy without much thought. It isn't until we hear of the restrictions in other countries that we pay attention to how fortunate we are. China, Iran and many other countries control what their citizens can hear and say or even learn. Our politicians may preach and sometimes lie but we have abundant resources to receive news and information, not just the government telling us what they want us to believe.

There are many people who say a lot of things that I don't agree with or even like in the least but I am thankful that they have the right to say what they think and feel, just as I do. Music is my favorite way to hear what is in someone's heart and mind so I will celebrate this freedom at a music festival! Happy Birthday, America.

My Poet's Hat

2009-06-26T08:54:00.000-07:00

Since I attended the Gathering of Writers at Greenbo, I have been writing poetry. Before I went I would have said "I'm trying to write poetry". Now I feel confident that I can write poetry because I've been reading a lot of it and I like mine just fine. I really like the re-discovered fact that it doesn't have to rhyme!!!!!!!

Here's my happy poem for today.

Summer Feet
the grass is cool as we run through sprinklers watching for bees in clover squealing with delight as wet hair falls into our eyes blinding us with joy * steam rises from the black top as we dance in line waiting for a frozen treat from the small white truck while “Pop Goes the Weasel” sings along * the rocks are sharp as we hold our arms out wide to help balance as we wobble across the alley to jump into a three foot pool of cold, fresh water * the mud is cool between our toes slurping as we pull out feet splashing each with no regard to false protest * the wash rag tickles as it roughly rubs to remove mud and dirt and sand from feet, callused by summer and ready for bed

Fountain Square

2009-06-25T20:22:00.000-07:00

I'm still hot from performing on Fountain Square today. No, not hot as in uh la la but as in its freaking hot and I'm sweating. I sang with as much of a smile as I could muster but I was melting.

As usual, Roberta, Violet and Vicky of Raison D'etre performed twice as long as I did and they didn't look in the least bit uncomfortable. They are my heroes. To love what you do so much that you make it comfortable for the audience. Awesome.

Roberta joined me for three songs so she actually performed for more than an hour. What a wonderful musician she is.

The Homestead - Part Two

2009-06-16T10:41:00.000-07:00

The Homestead - Part Two

Aunt Sheila lived with Grandma and Grandpa at the old house. She was called deaf and dumb but I knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t hear but she was as smart as any of us. Because I lived with Grandma from time to time I got to go the movies with Sheila. Translating in our own homemade sign language I would tell her what Elvis was up to, as if she didn’t know just from his moves, his glances and his lovely blond co-stars. She loved Elvis.

Mom and Grandma in front of her house. The red brick row houses across the street are now the parking lot for Newport on the Levee

When I was older, Sheila and I would take the #8 bus to Dayton, straight east, to Tacoma Pool where I, like a feisty Chihuahua, was given the task of keeping the boys away from her. Sheila was attractive with her pretty blond curls, brown eyes and big smile. Not being able to hear or talk, Grandma was afraid someone would take advantage.
At night Sheila was up late she’d pull the box of Hershey cocoa from the shelf and I would find the sugar. In the wee hours between the movies we would make homemade fudge or pop corn that we’d cover with melted butter.

My daughters on their bikes in Grandma’s yard. Even as a mother I moved back from time to time.

When I graduated from high school I moved back in with my grandparents to help my grandma with my grandpa, who had had a stroke. He was 88 years old and like many in his condition, he wanted to go home. We didn’t know where that home was because they had lived in this house for almost 50 years. One very cold night in late February grandma, my cousin Carlene and I woke to moans. We searched the house for grandpa, even the dark, scary basement. He was no where to be found but his moans continued. He did not have enough strength to open the heavy front door, swollen with age it was usually stuck and everyone just came in the back. The last place was outside, though, and when we forced the heavy door open, we found grandpa on the snowy ground, near the dreaded forsythia bush. He survived just a few more days, still wanting to go home, having gained enough strength to open the door that we barely could handle.
When grandma grew older and the house was her’s alone, it became too big and the steps too high and narrow. It was cold in the winter and hot in the summer. She lived with my mom for a few years, in an apartment upstairs from Aunt Sheila and her husband and her daughter. It was convenient but it wasn’t home. It wasn’t the home where she could spend time in her yard, watering the grass and raising dandelions. It wasn’t the front porch where she could watch the traffic taking the sharp curve onto Route 8. It wasn’t the homestead where the family came to watch the fireworks or celebrate a holiday.
When I was a young mother living far away, Grandma would come to visit. On quiet nights she would tell me stories of her house. Before the floodwall was built they had a view of the water and only had to cross Front Street to enjoy the riverbank. She told me of carnivals and circuses that would set up just walking distance from her front door. She told me that in the 1937 flood she and the family crawled out of the attic window into a rowboat. They had waited until the water was very high, not wanting to leave what they had behind. Trying to save it by moving it all to the second floor, it still was ruined when the flood came up as far as the roof. When my husband and I stripped wallpaper to panel the second floor, you would see daylight where the boards had disintegrated from the flood waters. The slant of the house made the work difficult and the finished project a bit askew.
Grandma told me that during the depression Grandpa would go to the river boats and buy fish. We would then walk dozens of miles through Ft. Thomas and Highland Heights selling it, just to put food on the table.
Now our homestead has been replaced with six stories of shiny metal and glass. It has a commanding view across the floodwall and where the dusty basement stood, is a clean, concrete parking garage. I drive past whenever possible, remembering the days and lives that we enjoyed at the homestead. No one ever took a photo of the front of grandma’s house but I can see it in my heart.

My cousin Barb, my daughers and my grandmother under the shade tree in the back yard.

Our Homestead - Part One

2009-06-16T10:32:00.000-07:00

While I was at the Seedtime Festival of the Cumberlands in Whitesburg, Kentucky I walked around checking out the booths. One booth offered homemade jams and jellies along with fresh churned butter. I spied a bottle of dandelion jelly which brought back memories of my grandmother and her house in Newport, Kentucky. The bluegrass and old-time music made a perfect backdrop for this trip down memory lane so I took out my recorder and started working on this piece. When I got back home I drove past the area I grew up in Newport, starting with my Aunt Juanita's house at 7th & Roberts where we lived three different times in my life.

The Homestead

The house we lived in at 7th & Robert still stands but the red brick is now painted blue. I walked to third grade from here, 6 blocks due east. After my baby sister died, my mother wanted to be elsewhere. We moved more than a dozen times when I was a child but we never owned a home.
Sadly my parents provided no homestead but we had one, nonetheless. It was my grandparents’ house on Washington Avenue in Newport. It was the last house before you came to the floodwall. 111 Washington faced west and we would watch the traffic crossing the Central Bridge. This house that had survived two floods, witnessed babies and grandbabies being born and leaned a bit toward the north. This house hosted the Christmas gatherings around grandma’s tinsel tree with the light wheel casting a change of colors as it turned. This was where we celebrated Easter in our lovely little dresses and suits. We had family cook outs in the yard and dinners in the dining room, each of us waiting our turn by age at the big wooden table or at the red formica in the kitchen. This house was our homestead. We even lived there off and on when times were tough or Mom and Lou had gone off somewhere. Lou moved us quite a lot, trying new adventures or working on the river but we always came back to the homestead.

Valarie and Aunt Sheila on the front porch

On the sidewalk in front of Grandma’s house at 111 Washington Avenue. The stairs up the floodwall were narrow and broken. Now the stairs are new and wide across from the office building that replaced my grandmother's house.

My mother holding me on the side of grandma's house.

The Scott's house had not yet burned down.

The house at 111 Washington was a shotgun with three rooms up and three rooms down. The bathrooms were added onto the back but they never were warm and the pipes froze in the winter. The side yard doubled when the Scott’s house next door burned to the ground. Grandma bought the lot and Lou put in rich, green sod. Each night in the heat of summer Grandma would water the grass with her hose, sprinkling any grandchildren who ran through the yard. She would carefully check the fence to make sure no dogs got in to violate her dandelions. “It makes great wine” she said. “But mostly I eat the greens. Don’t want no dogs ruining my dandelions”. She’d even water the dreaded forsythia bush near the front gate that offered up switches to swing against our bare legs for any wrong deed. It took the place of the willow switches she had felt in her youth. Just the same, we had to cut our own switch, trim the yellow flowers and deliver it into her hands. I still remember the swish it made as it came for flesh.
We would sit on the front porch and watch the cars go by. In the early 1900’s the view was of the river, not the tall floodwall that now protected the city. We’d climb that wall to see the Delta Queen go by and in our late teens, to watch the WEBN fireworks with a ring-side seat.

Nancy and Aunt Juanita in the kitchen.

My favorite memory of the back yard was grandma’s quilting frame. My cousins and I could sit beneath and watch the fingers and the thread weaving through the fabric as friends and relatives would talk as they worked. So many of us had played there that the yard behind the back porch was bare of grass. It was shaded by a large tree and we could take the bent, galvanized tub and fill it with water for a cool dip on a hot day
The basement of the house was musty with a dirt floor. You had to stoop to go down the steep, wooden steps from the dining room. I rarely went down there except when grandma needed something that had been canned and stored on the shelves of the old pantry that sat in the back. Thankfully Grandma didn’t need canned goods very often.
Behind my grandparents house was a trailer park and one tiny little house. Mr. and Mrs. Givens lived there. They were a large couple who lived in its three tiny rooms. In the evening they would sit on their front porch which faced my grandmother’s back yard. Both of them chewed tobacco and smoked corn cob pipes. “Mountain folk” my grandmother told me.
Sheila and Grandma in the back yard. The Givens’ house is behind them, tucked into the trailer park.

Sheila and grandma in the back front

with the Givens' house behind them.

My mother wasn’t born in that house, just a few blocks over on Saratoga but her younger sisters and brother were. Two sisters died there and Benny left for Korea from that house, never to return.
I remember when grandma saved up for wall-to-wall carpet for the living room. It was gold and new and soft to the touch, much quieter than the squeaking linoleum in the other rooms. Grandpa thought it much too fancy and being his ornery self would spit tobacco as he walked through the room. Not much, just enough to leave a tiny spot to get the old woman riled.
I slept many nights on a pallet on the living room floor. There was no air conditioning but grandma had a fan and when I was the only grandchild there I would lay right in front of that fan. The hum and the air would lull me to sleep. She told me that they had slept on pallets in the yard, watered down to keep them cool when the weather was too hot to be in the house.
In the cold weather, while I was still small, grandma would rock me to sleep in her skirt. As a young child my grandmother looked mighty. She lost weight as she aged, living on coffee, Grape Nuts and grapefruit. When I was grown and she was 80 she was half the size I remembered. Grandma would sit on the sofa with her knees spread so that her long, wide skirt hung clear to her ankles and the fabric would create a swing. I could sit in that skirt and she would sing to me, thumping her feet and swaying her knees. “Who da linga dink dump do dump da, do dump du dumpa do dumpa” were her words. Words without meaning but soothing. Some nights I would curl up behind her on the sofa as she watched the late movies, conforming to the hollow made by her knees with my head on her hip .
In the daytime she sat on her sofa, sipping her instant coffee, cold from her saucer. She watched the same stories every day from when the soap companies first put them on the air. We knew who she loved and who she hated. She wasn’t afraid to tell the actors just what she thought of them either, yelling at the black and white screen. In the summer we could stay up late with grandma. After the movies were over and the National Anthem sung, she’d get up from the sofa and we’d wander up the steps and snuggle into her bed. The rhythm of her snores and the tick-tock of grandpa’s mantel clock took longer to put me to sleep than the fan. The house was old and it creaked preventing me from closing my eyes. The room was dark except for the streetlight behind her house that shone through the window. I never liked the dark.
I tried to adjust to darkness as their house was always dark except for the light from the television. The depression had shaped them. Not caring of my fear, Grandpa would send me through the dark rooms to the bathroom at the back of the house to get his spittoon, an old coffee can he used for spitting tobacco. I would go, not only to stay in his good graces, but to earn the nickel that he offered. Sometimes after grandpa had had a glass or two of Weideman beer he would give me a quarter. He’d make me come close to take the quarter then he would pinch me on the leg and ask “where’s my sugar”. I’d kiss his scratchy check, trying to avoid his mouth, wet with the spittle of tobacco. He’d grin and laugh but a quarter was a treasure. With a quarter I could walk two doors down to Marcella’s bar and buy a bottle of Coca Cola, a bag of chips and a Hershey bar.

(Continued in Part Two)

John McCutcheon

2009-06-15T08:50:00.000-07:00

I first met John McCutcheon when I organized the Queen City Balladeer's 40th Anniversary Celebration. I had also booked Jean Ritchie and my friend, Dave Hawkins, helped bring John on board. John and Jean had played together many times over the years and they joined together to perform Jean's famous song, the "L&N Don't Stop Here Anymore" at our concert.

The more I learned about John during our ride and conversations, the more respect I have for him now. Our first encounter five years ago had been less personal since I spent most of the time going through his agents and "people" in order to book him. Being busy at the concert I hardly had time to do more than exchange a quick "hello" and "it's great to have you here." Spending more than 30 hours in a small car and at a festival with him I enjoyed his company very much. We talked about a little bit of everything from music in Cincinnati to family to polite political comments to what it was like to be a traveling musician.

I was not an awestruck fan thrilled to be in the company of such a folk superstar. Instead, it was like having anyone else in the QCB or Ceilidh Group enjoying a get outta here. I appreciated that he was just a nice man and did not take the "I'm a star...you are just driving me" approach. Even with more than 30 albums and 6 grammy nominations under his belt, he never brought that up. He was just a nice man...an extremely talented man...but most of all a nice man, too. We both enjoyed the weekend and I look foward to running into John again some day.

My Chauffeur Hat - Seedtime of the Cumberland Festival

2009-06-14T20:59:00.000-07:00

The subject line on Dave's email read "possible driving gig". It was an opportunity to pick up John McCutcheon at CVG and drive him to the Seedtime Festival on the Cumberland in Whitesburg, Kentucky. I called Chandra to see if she could find another sitter for Saturday and then contacted John and made arrangements to take him to Eastern Kentucky.

I picked him up at the airport about 7:30 p.m. and our first stop was for Cincinnati chili. Seems that John had lived in Cincinnati in the past and had frequented Acropolis Chili in Clifton. We found a nearby Skyline and his 5-way craving was satiated. We chatted about a little of everything in between calls John made and received while riding. Traveling musician is a busy life for sure.

We headed south then east but unfortunately I missed the turn to the Bert Combs Parkway and we headed a bit too far east. By the time we figured it out we had gone 30 miles too far. With a map (since John's GPS wasn't locating our position) we took a local road down to Route 15 and only lost about a true half hour on our time. John was very pleasant company and when we came into Perry County he told me about the cities he had visited and the people he had met through the years.

It was dark as we drove but I could tell that we were surrounded but some pretty big hills. Yes, I know that in Kentucky they are considered mountains but you must remember that I lived in the Rockies for four years and its all relative.

We reached Whitesburg about 12:15 a.m. and settled into the local Super 8 Motel. The lobby and halls were covered with framed posters of past Seedtime Festival on the Cumberland. It was hard to sleep so I watched some TV, drank some wine and finally slept for about 5-6 hours. I woke up early, had breakfast from the continental bar in the motel's lobby then waited to hear from John. He called, we drove to the festival, and unloaded.

John knew everyone and spent the day either performing or visiting with old friends. I stayed out of his way and just sat and listened to the wonderful voices and instruments that were everywhere in the festival. I bought some crafts, ate from the local trailer/food wagon and even napped under a tree. In the late morning I attended a shape note singing workshop. I sat with the melody group (can't remember the proper name) and John McCutcheon sat with and boasted the bass group. It was hard to follow but when the four groups sang it gave me chills! What lovely sounds. The professor conducting the workshop promised it got better as more get-togethers and encouraged us all to find local shape note groups.

During the day I met some very nice folks from the local area. Each conversation started with someone telling me"I like your skirt!". I( was wearing one of my long, broomstick skirts.) One of the ladies I met had the prettiest painted toenails I had ever seen so we started our conversation with fashion and proceeded to "Are you from around here?" That was always the second thing folks said to me when we started chatting. I guess my lack of accent gave me away. Maria, a sweet lady I met in the early afternoon, became my companion off and on during the day. She told me her name but when I told her mine she tried to repeat it three times before saying , "I can't pronounce that but I'll keep it in my mind". When ever I wandered near she would say, "I have a seat saved, come sit down a bit". I could not resist. Both ladies were darling company and when they learned where I hailed from, they started informing me that they could never live somewhere flat. Each related how a relative had moved up to Ohio and Indiana and couldn't wait to get back. "The hills feel like they protect us" the first lady with the lovely toes told me. I had to admit I felt a bit closed in but she said that was what she loved about eastern Kentucky. "Folks think we are stupid down here" she said sadly. I told her that when I moved to Idaho folks there asked if we people from Kentucky wore shoes. She shook her head and said that she hears that alot. When I told her that I was from Northern Kentucky she politely told me that that was more like being in Ohio. I had to admit that after being there I had to agree just a bit. I am proud of my Kentucky roots but I knew that living in those mountains held a special magic.

It learned quickly that John McCutcheon was there for a reason and not just as a headliner. As a college student he discovered old time mountain music at the school library and in his junior year he spent a summer in Fletcher and Perry Counties and met many wonderful Kentucky musicians. A film starring him and I.D. Stamper, a builder and player of mountain dulcimers. I was quite impressed to learn so much more about John and how long he's been playing and supporting Appalachia music. He had recorded at Appalshop and was pleased to be back.

The most profound thing I noticed during the day was the absence of typical "civilized" background noise. There was no traffic, no airplanes, no trains...nothing but fiddles and banjos, guitars and basses and the strains of a lovely voice singing haunting mountain ballads. The magic was rubbing off.

The festival itself was small but the music was mighty. All around the grounds you could sit on a bale of hay and listen to musicians of very age. I can't say every skill level because not one of the folks I heard could be called anything but excellent.

John played guitar, banjo, autoharp and hammer dulcimer. My new friend, Maria, said "That fella's pretty good!" After John's performance we packed the car and prepared to hit the road. While we packed, the festival grounds were cleared as much as possible with a few of the vendor tents removed and all of the chairs packed away. Local musicians took the stage and a square dance began. John said he would have loved to stay and join the musicians but he had an early flight and had to be back to CVG as soon as possible.

We drove through the dark once more and said our goodbyes. It was a lovely event and John was a fine GOH companion.

Bohemidippity Pledge

2009-06-10T20:15:00.001-07:00

I have been angry today. I know, I'm angry many days, but this one was worse than most. Someone who has dealt with Jim over the years has turned out to be a thief and a liar. Most sad.

However, I am attempting to channel my anger to positive endeavors. When I feel like stomping, screaming, cursing, or throwing breakables into concrete walls...I will write songs, poems, prose or journals.

I'm not sure what religious or spiritual label I would place on myself at this phase in my life so I'm just gonna go with Bohemian. Turning fifty was liberating because I don't care (too much) what anyone else thinks of me, my music, my writing, my house, my gray hair or my lifestyle. I am a wanderer, vagabond and fairly-free spirit.

This is my pledge to TRY to be a calmer person. I can't ever promise because (as I mentioned in a past blog) I'm too superstitious and promises always bite me in the butt.

Bear with me because I think I "found" myself and I like what I found, although a bit lesser angrier me would be more likeable. It's Bohemidippity for me!!!

Weeds

2009-06-08T20:27:00.001-07:00

The past two weekends have been filled with wonderful, dry, sunny days. Jim and I weeded and planted new flowers and weeded and cut grass and weeded and pruned and weeded and put in a dozen tomato bushes. Then we weeded again.

My friend Doreen loves to garden. So do most of my neighbors which makes my un-manicured front yard look worse than it would if their's were not such showcases.

We've tried to cut back on our extra curricular activities to have more time for the yard but there is still much to do before we catch up.

It's looking good, at least to us. Our neighbor on the north side came over last week and mentioned that she is considering building a fence between our properties. It didn't hurt my feelings, I'm doing my best. She told me she hates weeds. I know this is true because she just pulls up anything she doesn't recognize and considers it a weed. I hope her perennials come up soon before their roots are snatched from the dirt.

Hey, a fence might be nice. Her yard is pretty stark now that she's pulled up all the roses, and holly and other plants the past owner worked so hard to grow. To each their own.

I don't like yard work but it was nice to spend time in the yard with Jim working to make our house at least not be considered a blight.

Really, its not that bad. It is all relative after all. Jim and I both grew up in apartments without yards so by the time we reach 90 we'll have this yard work figured out.

Writers' Retreat

2009-05-26T05:14:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, May 17th Jim dropped me off at Roberta's home in Wilder and she and I headed southeast to the Gathering in Greenbo State Park. The anticipation and wondering filled me with adrenaline and the three hour drive seemed half that long. We arrived around noon and went straight to the first workshop. When we entered the room Kate Larkin hugged me like we had been friends for years. I hope now that we will be. She is full of energy and happiness that is infectious. We settled in for her songwriting workshop and I was in awe! The room was filled with writers, poets and songwriters. Many of the attendees were all three. After her workshop we took a hike to a small graveyard then Roberta and I hiked one of the paths. ("Now don't worry Liz, its only one real tiny tick" Orange Cocoa Cake by Lou & Peter Berryman) Another workshop before dinner than a concert by Kate after. The group then brought out guitars, dulicmers, mandolins and libation and we had a "Swarp". Much like a ceilidh, we swapped songs until the wee hours.
On Monday we repeated this schedule of workshops, concerts and a swarp but included were readings during meals. Silas House, Anne Shelby and Jason Howard were among the writers who read stories while we quietly nibbled at our food, not wanting to make any noise that would interrupt the beautiful stories. In the late afternoon we recorded an open mike session in which I played Cadillac. Roberta did her famous underpants song and many of the other attendees read their poems and essays.
On Tuesday we had one more workshop, a concert and then said our goodbyes. It was my first and hopefully not last writers retreat!

Ohio River Valley Folk Festival - Get Outta Here

2009-05-21T05:08:00.000-07:00

On Friday, May 15th Jim and I left our offices around 3 pm and headed west to Madison, Indiana. We had a bit of time so we took Route 42 and went along the river to Markland Dam and crossed over to Indiana. The ride was pleasant and the time passed quickly. Papa Joe called as we were leaving town to say he was there and settled in and would walk around the city and get the lay of the land. A call to Lenny and Linda revealed them just a mile behind so. We caught up in Madison and continued on to Clifty Falls where we pitched our tents then headed back to town for the Festival. It was drizzling but not heavy rain. Paul Burch and the WPA were performing when we arrived but soon after a few lightening flashes stopped the music for about a half hour. We took shelter from the brief pocket of rain then loaded up with plates of delicious pulled pork, green beans and buttery potatoes. Settled into our seats we enjoyed the remainder of Paul's set. With a brief change over we had our drinks of choice and awaited Richard Shindell. I had heard his music for years but had not seen him live. His songs painted pictures that brought us to tears and then laughter. Another change over and we were rocked by the Kennedys. Again I had listened to their sweet harmonies on WNKU but I was not aware of Pete Kennedy's amazing guitar work. Maura sang like an angel, played ferociously and didn't stop dancing and sending out energy for two straight hours. It was amazing!

During one of the breaks Jim bought me a lovely shawl made by a woman in Cambodia. Another tent provided us a chance to refresh our supply of homemade soap.

In the final minutes of Friday, we wandered back to our tents at Clifty Falls and enjoyed nature's concert of rolling thunder and an amazing light show as the rain pounded percussion above us.

Saturday morning was a bit drizzly but not enough to deter us from making a big campground breakfast. With full bellies we headed back to the festival for the workshops. First up, Katherine Wheatley, a beautiful musician from Canada, led us in a ceilidh-like play and singalong session. A family of talented brothers joined her on stage with mandolin, banjo and guitar. Each played Katherine as if they had met her before and had time to learn the original songs she threw at them.

Next up, Richard Shindell, looking like he was not a morning person, gave a true workshop on songwriting. His suggestions made sense and his method made me feel like I was doing something right. I wrote down his suggestions and how to incorporate some to my own process.

Without a break the amazing Tim O'Brien took the small stage and the tent filled to capacity. He explained mandolins and bouzoukis and we were able to hear a few songs before we slipped out to head to our next event....my cousin's wedding three hours east of where we sat.

We unanimously agreed that this is a Get Outta Here that needs to be on our calendars for next year!

Writers Road Block

2009-05-20T07:45:00.000-07:00

I knew from an early age that I was destined to be a writer. From the first rough, thick lined pencil pads to the smooth, shiny white college-rule in elementary school, I ached to put words on a page. When school supplies were purchased and stacked on my bed, I’d rush to open the package of pencils and remove the plastic wrap from my school paper.

Then I would sit and stare at the shiny page, pencil tapping teeth, waiting for the words to come.

More than 40 years later, I still sat and waited.

Mother had always lectured not to waste our supplies before school began but she really didn’t have to worry. My writer's road block remained. With my lifetime case of short term memory, I never got the thoughts written fast enough with paper and pen before they flew away. It wasn’t until I bought a computer that the words could be captured, straight from my head to my hands to the keys. It is the speed of brain to fingers that has enabled me to write. I have had songs die in the aborning just because I couldn’t write them down as fast as the muse would sing them in my head. But ahhh, technology. Give me a dictaphone and computer keyboard and they live.

Each morning and late evening, I push the “on” button and wait for the blue screen to roll to white. Sitting and staring at the shiny page I write. Words appear, sentences grow and a story dances upon the page.

I am a writer.

Retreat

2009-05-18T05:02:00.000-07:00

I am on retreat! Roberta and I drove windy, rural roads to find Greenbo State Park in Northeast Kentucky. Billed as a Gathering of Writers, it lived up to its name. The room is filled with 30+ people who share information and comments and create. Sunday was a long day with travel, hiking, workshops and a SWARP. Its pretty much a ceilidh but SWARP is an Appalachian term. We shared songs until 1 am and then tried to sleep with song and poems ideas dancing in our heads.

More later!

Happy 17th Anniversary

2009-05-16T19:44:00.000-07:00

17th years ago Jim and I were married at Alms Park in Cincinnati. It had rained for days and I was a nervous wreck. Jim was confident that it would be a beautiful day so we did not have a back up plan. Just as he predicted, the sun came out and we had a wonderful wedding day. For our honeymoon, the rain resumed and we spent a week in the Smoky Mountains, camping in a light but comfortable rain.

We enjoyed this wedding anniversary camping in the rain. I have to admit that last night it was hard rain with much thunder and lightening but safe within our tent it was lovely to experience. We woke, cooked breakfast in the rain, went to a couple of workshops (more on this later) and then headed off to Kentucky for my cousin's wedding. She, too, had planned an outside wedding on May 16th. When we arrived with a car full of sound equipment we were apprehensive about set up mikes and speakers in the rain. However, we slugged through the soggy, marsh that surrounded the stage and provided sound for the musician and the vows.

As Brittany and her father drove up to the wedding spot in a vintage, orange Corvette, the blue sky appeared and the wedding was lovely.

During the ceremony Jim and I looked down at our muddy feet and had a laugh. We seem to celebrate our wedding anniversary with muddy feet. So therefore, here is our official 17th anniversary photograph!!!

HAPPY ANNIVERSAY

2009-05-14T21:00:00.000-07:00

We've piled up the camping gear in the living room. Tomorrow I will load the car, hoping not to forget too much. Its supposed to rain this weekend so our wedding anniversary will be celebrated much like our honeymoon. We'll be camping and it will be raining. We didn't mind at all 17 years ago. Let's hope our weary bones don't mind too much this time.

Blog 5/13/09

2009-05-13T08:24:00.001-07:00

I couldn't decide what to name this blog because so many ideas came to mind. Most of them were the usual cliches, Be Careful What You Wish For...You Can't Have It All, just to name two. Therefore, I just gave it a date. When I did, I noted that its the 13th and I came from a very, very superstitious family. My sister died when she was thirteen days old, my mother died on the 13th of September and so forth and so on. To carry on this family tradition, I woke up this morning with a migraine, mad at the world and feeling deep, dark and blue. That's where the cliches came into consideration.

I have overwhelmed myself because I wished to be busy and I am. I wanted to have it all and I do. I spent so many years in my mid-life at home with no friends and nothing to do but clean house and I wished for all I didn't have. Now I have all I ever wanted, family, friends and acquaintances and I'm exhausted trying to spend time enjoying all of them. I know I've complained about this before but as a mother and grandmother I sat myself down and said "Stop whining and fix it". Therefore I am fixing it. Last night I wanted to go to the studio to watch Tim mix his new CD but instead I went to my grandson, Chase's, baseball game. Nick was umping so I was able to take photos of both of them at the same game. We then came home and had dinner together. It was wonderful. I actually got the kitchen floor mopped. Last Friday night instead of going out to hear music, I babysat Kalee so their family could go out. It was relaxing. Over the weekend Nick and I worked on his bedroom, turning it into a true teenage musician's space. It was fulfilling.

Therefore as the mother I have grounded myself. After this weekend of the Ohio River Valley Folk Festival and the Writer's Retreat, I'm gonna spend more time at home. I will honor the commitments I have already made but with all my power I will try to say "no" and work on my house and spend more time with my family. Its noticeable that I haven't posted any updates on my kitchen...that's because there are none. We have the materials, including my new counter top, but we haven't had the time.

I get exhausted just looking at my schedule but my date book isn't half as full as my daughter's. I hope she doesn't wear herself out! On Mother's Day we had a nice family dinner but still had to find time to coordinate our busy calendars.

This summer, I hope to invite friends to my house to sit on my back deck and enjoy some music and a cold beer or two and RELAX. I want to be accessible if my friends or family need me.

To wrap up this babbling...I am so blessed with family, friends and acquaintances and I will therefore spend time with them...in that order. I feel compelled to go hear fellow musicians as often as possible and there are very few that I haven't heard multiple times. I still love their music and want to support them but I have to set my priorities. I'm actually missing my cousin's wedding this Saturday. Like most weekends, we had five things to chose from. It's also our 17th wedding anniversary and Jim and I love to camp on that special date. We combined camping and music with the folk festival and the wedding just didn't work into the plans. Yes, I feel really, really bad about not being with my family and therefore the blues have set in. I hope I get these conflicts worked out better in the coming months.

Wish me luck

Four Corners of Folk

2009-05-06T04:58:00.000-07:00

Our music community is a subject I love to write about. Every weekend and on most days of the week, its a hard choice of who to hear. Last Saturday, May 2nd, it was the reunion of the Four Corners of Folk. Chris Collier, Ashley Peacock, Greg Mahan and Ryan Adcock had gone on tour about five years ago, traveling in a van, driving to the northeast. They came together again at College Hill Coffee and took turns performing their songs. At the end of the evening they joined for "If I Had a Hammer". Jim and I enjoyed the night with our friend, Carol Mahan, who I actuall met through Greg!

Grunt Hat (shirt?)

2009-05-06T04:46:00.000-07:00

Jim and I were up at the crack of dawn on Sunday, May 3rd. For the 5th or 6th time (yes, its too hard to keep count anymore) we volunteered at Water Station #17 for the Flying Pig Marathon. Another Fairfax mother and I had gone to a meeting years back and were allowed to host the water station. It brings in money for the Fairfax Elementary PTA and brings the community out for a good cause. These days my daughter, Chandra, has taken over the event and has made it into a fun time for us and the runners. She and a few others moms really get into it. A friend's mother created a flying pig outfit for Chandra but as usual, Julie, who came in hot pink from head to toe, had the craziest costume. Costumes are not a requirement as you can see from Jim and me in our Grunt shirts. However, the runners get a kick out of seeing water stations having such a good time.

Julie and Chandra were hysterical!

Studio

2009-04-30T05:10:00.001-07:00

I'm headed back to the studio tonight. I'm a bit less blue but I'm still not 100%.
There's song that is stumping me and its making me very, very blue. My favorite songs I have written were not really written but dictated to me from the muse, straight into my brain. I get a line or a chorus and the song just germinates. I repeat the line over and over and over and then suddenly, the remaining words come pouring out. I grab my guitar then paper and pen and catch the song as it is born. If I'm not fast enough, words and lines just disappear back to where they came - into some sort of muse-utopia.
I have had a line/chorus in my head for days and days. I sit with my guitar. I sit with pen and paper. I sit at my computer. I think the muse is on vacation, probably some exotic place that she can't tear herself away from. I miss the muse and wish she'd come back to me.
Until then, I just keep writing words, strumming chords and singing in various keys, hoping the song will grow. This is WORK!
Nonetheless, I recently heard James Taylor talking about a song that took him two years to write. He also said that some of his best just came to him and they were written in less than an hour. At least its not just me.

Rainy Days

2009-04-29T04:51:00.001-07:00

I usually don't get blue on rainy days. Its the kind of day to take it a bit easier and relax.
However, today I feel blue. I have too many things going on at once and I have that overwhelming feeling that I'm not doing any of them well. My songs didn't sound good at the studio, my book is not getting finished, my house is still messy and I have lots of paperwork and taxes to finish. To top it all, I can't find time to finish the newsletter and its due out FRIDAY!

So I'm blue. I feel disorganized and overwhelmed. It would be so much nicer to just enjoy the day but I can't channel my brain to work on one thing at once.

Yes, I'm pity-potting. My mother would have said "You better put that pouting lip in or the poop bird will land on it" I'm keeping my eyes open for low flying birds. Poor, poor, pitiful me.

My Own River of Song

2009-04-28T07:34:00.001-07:00

I went back into the studio last night to begin work on a second CD. This one will feature songs about the river or at least have a river in them. Tim Kelly came by and we put down four of the tracks on our second collaboration, The River Sings to Me. Those four were three guitar and one vocal. We will add Tim's harmony and harmonica and Dan is working on a piano part. Nick, my grandson, will add bass and his friend, Max, is working on a light drum part.

I have a few more river songs and I will be including more friends on this project. We're recording again at Group Effort Studios with Dan Murphy. We feel very creative there.

Its more fun than Disney World

Music on a Sweet Spring Evening

2009-04-26T13:29:00.000-07:00

I called a few friends and asked them to play a few songs at the Oakley Recreation Center. We had played there a few times in years past and we were invited back. Lenny Hall & Linda Callan, Papa Joe Kretschmer, Dan Walz and Fred Steffen were gracious and came out. I did two songs and Greg Pierson from the ORC also did two songs. Someone secretly snapped my photo so I'm adding it to this blog.

It was also the debut of my grandson Nick's band "Coastal Disaster". They were great and impressed us all with their cool demeanor. It took a bottle of beer and a lot of coaxing for me to perform in front of an audience the first time.

Nick, Daniel and Max did two acoustic versions of Nirvana songs and the crowd loved them. We old folkies had a great time, too. As I constantly report in my blogs, we have a generous and very talented music community here in Cincinnati!!!

Happy Earth Day!

2009-04-20T09:34:00.000-07:00

I can only suppose that Earth Day was meant to be a birthday-type celebration for our lovely Mother Earth. She was definitely in a party mood on Saturday because we could not have asked for nicer weather.
Our family started the day with a tee-ball and a baseball game with our two youngest grandsons. It was 4 year old Brody's very first game ever. Chase has played for a few years but it was his first game of the season.

After the game I drove to Earth Day at Sawyer Point to once again volunteer in the WNKU Radio booth. Mary, Ken and I poised for Jim, who was really into Earth Day and road his bike the 8 miles to the park. (Hey, I had picnic baskets, chairs and stuff, so don't guilty me!)

Chandra and family came down after the ball games were finished and we visited the many earth friendly exhibits. Of course, mine was the exhibit about towboats!

Jim and I ended the evening playing music at Aromas Java & Gelato Cafe with our wonderful friend, Peg.

Happy Birthday, Mother Earth

My Zoo Tunes Volunteer Hat

2009-04-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

I had the pleasure of volunteering at the WNKU booth at the Cincinnati Zoo this evening. Two wonderful bands - The Faux Frenchmen and the Pyschodots - provided the music. The Zoo provided a fabulous backdrop of tulips, crocuses and other spring blooms. The volunteers at our booth promoted the station, handed out fans and magnets and applied neat little tattoos on little arms.

Best of all, many friends stopped by to say hello. Carol, Jan, Julie and many others. It was great to see and hear Rob Fetters, one of my favorite local musicians. His band, the Pyschodots, played songs that I had originally only heard in acoustic, stripped down versions when Rob came to the Leo Coffeehouse.

I was as silly as a schoolgirl when he said he really liked my CD. Positive feedback from a musician who I admire makes the thrill of the project even sweeter.

Happy Easter

2009-04-12T20:20:00.001-07:00

What a busy weekend. We listened to music on Friday, played music on Saturday and enjoyed a wonderful Easter on Sunday. Chandra, Justin and the kids came over and Jim and I cooked up a delicious brunch. After we ate, Megan, Chase and Brody stayed to color eggs while Chandra and Justin took the baby home and played Easter Bunny. After the eggs were colored and dry, we walked back to their house for a hunt. Chandra had a great idea of each of the grandkids having a color of their own to search for. That way age gave no advantage to the number of eggs someone could find. Nick got in from his mom's in time to color eggs and then walked with us to Chandra's for the egg hunt. Being the oldest, his eggs were the hardest to locate, especially since Justin did most of the hiding.

Jim and I went back home to bake a ham and potatoes and then we made the long commute (one block) back to Chandra's for a wonderful Easter dinner. We finished the meal with heaping platefuls of strawberry shortcake and then relaxed and watched the movie "Twilight".

Kalee kept herself amused with the wheels on the bus and yes, we sang the song to her as she played. Wait until she learns that her last name begins with "bus".

It was a clear, cool day and the trees and flowers were blooming. We spent it with people we love. What a day to be thankful for!

The Ribbon - Revisited

2009-04-11T11:56:00.001-07:00

Driving home a few nights ago, I spotted a towboat with familiar colors. It was the Clyde Butcher of Inland Marine Service. My stepbrother David owns Inland Marine and as you may know from past blogs, our family all worked on his boats. We had been raised on the river and although I didn't continue my life there as my parents and David did, I still feel myself drawn to water. Whether a tiny river in Vermont or the familiar Ohio, I love a drive along the banks flowing water.

When I first spotted the Clyde Butcher I was at Schmidt's Land and she was headed downstream towards Cincinnati. I back tracked to my favorite viewing spot at St. Rose Church on Eastern Avenue. Coming upstream was another boat and they met just in front of me. I watched for awhile, hoping a crew member would come out on deck so I could wave hello. I stayed until she started around the bend to the bridges.

Kentucky Music

2009-04-11T10:53:00.000-07:00

We had a pleasant Good Friday, listening to three groups who hail from Kentucky. Tim & Doreen were headed for the Dilly Deli to catch an early fish dinner so we tagged along. We were able to stay long enough to talk to our friends, the Troubadours of Divine Bliss as they started their set. Although they now live in Indiana, they are Kentucky girls.

We drove to Wilder, Kentucky next for a house concert hosted by Roberta & Gary featuring Carla Gover. The concert was opened by Raison D'Etre, one of our most beloved groups singing one of my favorite songs written by Vicky Ellis - "Beautiful River" Carla was up next, joined from time to time by her daughters, Zoe and Maisey. She sang appalachian songs and accompanied herself quite well on guitar, piano and banjo. She's a great claw hammer banjo player and to prove it, she ended her concert with "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" as a banjo tune. It was priceless.

We drove to Covington to catch the last bit of Roger Drawdy and the Firestarters at Molly Malone's. A month or so ago Roger & Katie's house burned down and all they had were the clothes on their back. Thank goodness they escaped unharmed with their lovely baby, Sky. Musicians are good to each other, at least the one's I have met. When there is a need, they rally. Theresa put together a fundraiser and the night was a success. Talking to Katie, it sounds like they are set with all the things they need to replace what was lost.

We are blessed with good friends and 90% of them are musicians. I can't think of a weekend when we can't find somewhere to go and hear a musician we love. Sure beats the days of"there's nothing to do!". Now its a matter of what should be choose! What a lovely problem to have.

My Grandmother Hat

2009-04-07T12:51:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I got to be a "normal" grandmother and babysat seven of my eight grandchildren. Two of the boys, Cody and Justin had spent the previous week with us because their spring break was the week before Nick's. They went home on Saturday morning leaving me with five for the next three days. My daughter Chandra and son-in-law Justin had gone to New York for a well-deserved Get Outta Here. Jim and I were with the kids from Saturday morning (early) until Monday evening.

I have to admit I felt my age in the middle of the night when seven month old Kalee would wake up for a bottle. By Sunday night I had the hang of these feedings and we both got sleep.

During the day on Sunday when it was 72 degrees, Jim and I loaded them in the van, we drove through the evil McDonalds and we had a picnic on a park near the river. After we ate we drove to Saywer Point in Cincinnati and spent the afternoon at the playground and walking. We walked a portion of the park and then went on the Purple People Bridge and walked across the river to Newport.

On Monday the weather changed dramatically but we still drove into town to see the Red's Opening Day Parade. We stood in the rain for a few minutes near the parade route but decided the view from my office would be okay. Next there was lunch at the local Skyline then home to warm up and wait for Mom & Dad to get home. The kids were great the entire time I had them.

Jim and I love being "Mimi and Poppi" to our grandsons and granddaughters.

Hair

2009-04-05T07:46:00.000-07:00

Watching "Sunday Morning" is one of my favorite things to do on the weekend. I started watching it with my stepdad many years ago when my hero, Charles Kuralt, was the host. I wanted his job my whole life. Traveling, talking, reporting....those have always been some of my favorite activities.

On Today's show they reported that Hair is back on Broadway. Wow! When I was a teenager, I knew every word from every song of that musical and like many other young people, had NO idea of what half the lyrics meant. I auditioned for the spring concert at high school with "Black Boys" but the teacher found it to be too controversial and only did the songs that would be approved by our parents. Good thing they didn't have the record! My heart was broken when someone else got the lead - I was the one who knew the musical, knew the words, knew the story. The girl who sang "Aquarius" had no clue. Boy was I unhappy.

For many years, especially because I couldn't figure out the chords, I sang "Frank Mills" accapella. When Hair came back for a revival, my wonderful husband purchased a box at Music Hall. He and I invited four other friends and the six of us had seats right up near the stage. The cast came out to talk to the audience just before the show and I was able to say hello to the girl who sang Frank Mills in the show. It was a magical night. During the finale my daughter Chandra and our friend, Mary Ann, were up on stage with other brave souls. Believe it or not, in 1991 I was too shy to get up on the stage.

The song Frank Mills also has a lot to do with me performing now. When I joined the Queen City Balladeers and offered to write articles for the newsletters, I met John Giver. He did quirky songs and I asked if he knew Frank Mills. He did...we started performing together...formed a duo called Postage Due...and I fulfilled a crazy dream of being a singer/songwriter. Its these little things in life that built into big things.

I hope I can get to New York to see Hair on Broadways. What a Get Outta Here that would be!

The Beatle Suite

2009-04-03T07:25:00.000-07:00

The local news reported that the historic Vernon Manor Hotel would be closing at the end of March. I had never stayed at the grand building but it still held memories for me.
From time to time one of the attorneys in our office would have a celebration luncheon there. He had had his office in the Vernon Manor for many years and he enjoyed stopping back.
However for me the memory involves a weekend in September of 2003. The Queen City Balladeers, a local acoustic organization, was celebrating their 40th anniversary and we brought Jean Ritchie and John McCutcheon to town to perform. We contacted the Vernon Manor to ask about lodging for the artists and met with them to explain our celebration. They wanted to be a part of our event and offered rooms for the artists in exchange for an article in the event brochure. Jean and her husband George stayed at the Vernon Manor and when I picked them up to take them out to dinner George remarked that they had been given the Beatle Suite. Yes, those Beatles. In the early 60’s the Beatles came to Cincinnati and stayed at the Vernon Manor, one of the most prestigious hotels back in the day. The Vernon Manor realized the significance of their stay and kept the corner suite as true to the 1963 room as possible. When I picked up Jean and George the next day they insisted I come inside to check out the rooms. The suite was a step back in time, filled with Beatle photos and memorabilia. George took a photo of Jean and I standing outside the door which was emblazoned with a large star and the words “Beatle Suite”.
Sadly, John McCutcheon’s “people” insisted that he had to be within 20 minutes of the airport and other such nonsense so he spent the night at the Days Inn just outside the airport grounds. He had to endure fast food and a noisy location. I was able to make all the arrangements with directly Jean and thanks to the Vernon Manor she had a lovely visit. We had hoped to put other visiting artists in the Beatle Suite but sadly it is gone.

The Blizzard of 1983

2009-03-26T15:05:00.000-07:00

Reading about this week’s blizzard in Colorado takes me back to the early 1980’s when we lived in the mountains of central Idaho. I find it interesting how certain events and memories just file themselves back in the recesses of our mind until something draws them out. “March 4-6, 1983: 18.7 inches falls at Stapleton Airport, while areas of south metro Denver get socked with 26 inches”.

On March 1st of 1983 my mother called to wish Chandra a Happy Birthday 10th birthday. When I got back on the phone she sadly told me that my Aunt Juanita was very ill and wasn’t expected to live much longer. I was already incredibly homesick and being so far away from my family in Kentucky during this sad time was breaking my heart. Even though spring break was a few weeks away, I begged and pleaded with my husband (the ex-husband - not the great one I have now) to let me drive home. He initially refused for many logical (and a few selfish reasons) but eventually, fed up by my tears and pleading, he relented. However, he did lecture me on how foolish and dangerous it would be to drive through the Rockies in March. I didn’t care. My need to be home with my family overrode any good sense I might have had. Therefore, a few days later the girls and I loaded up our van with snacks and drinks, blankets and games and school work that had to be done while they were away from school and headed east. Chuck could not come with us and for reasons no longer important, he sent me with no money to spend, just a gas credit card to keep me on the road.
As we drove south from Hailey, Idaho towards Salt Lake City the sky was blue and clear. That leg of the drive took about five hours during which the girls played games and kept each other company. They both fell asleep as we approached Salt Lake and I was glad they did. The wind had become quite strong and I had a tough time keeping the van on the highway. I listened on the CB radio to the truckers discussing weather and road conditions. The closer we got to the city, the harder the wind was gusting. There were reports of trains being blown over on the tracks and truckers were advising each other to get off the expressway as soon as they could and head through the mountains. Exasperated from trying to keep the van steady as we were blown from lane to lane I followed the 18-wheelers east onto Route 40. Snow started falling as we climbed the mountains heading toward Park City.
At the top of the first pass the landscape was a winter wonderland in the early afternoon. The winding road through the mountains was breathtaking and I wished I had had time to stop and spend a day or two. However, the snow was becoming heavier by the hour and darkness fell early in the mountains. Soon there was no one on this lonely stretch of road but me. The higher I drove the deeper the snow. It had been pushed and piled higher than my van windows on either side of the road with just the two lanes visible. I drove for hours as the night turned into the wee morning hours. There was no where to pull over to rest in the small towns that were few and far between. With the near blinding snow I probably missed many opportunities to pull off. Luckily I had filled the tank near Salt Lake. I drove slowly with my bright lights on to avoid running up a snow bank or running over, or into, an animal. Because of the wall of snow on either side of the road hundreds of rabbits were hopping in front of me as well as the occasional elk or deer who found travel easier on the highway. Sadly a few rabbits perished due to my inability to dodge them all.
I stopped for gas as we descended into Denver just before my tank went dry. As I paid the clerk, he advised me that the highway was about to be closed due to the heavy snow. I was surprised that a snowstorm would slow down such a large city sitting in the Rockies. He said that there were not enough plows to keep the highway cleared with the amount of snow that was falling. The wind was sending it into drifts as it blew across the plains east of the city.
I had no money for a motel and even if we could find a rest area, we had only enough food and drinks to last another day. It had taken more than 20 hours to drive to Denver what normally took 14 and not wanting to be stranded with an “I told you so” from Chuck, I pulled onto Route 70 and just kept driving east.
The snow lightened as we reached Kansas. I had been at the wheel for a day and a half without stopping. After another 8 hours we reached Missouri where I saw snow-capped mountains on the southern side of the highway. I knew they weren’t really there but I told myself that it was okay and I was only hallucinating. That thought didn’t seem to scare me at the time. Finally, we reached my mother-in-law’s house in Kansas City where we stopped for the night. I wasn’t thrilled about visiting her but the kids needed a hot meal and I needed sleep.
My mother in law, however, made sleep pretty impossible with wanting to scold me on how worried everyone had been and how I hadn’t checked in and Chuck was frantic, blah, blah, blah. After she finished lecturing she switched the conversation to the kids and her son so I just sat and tried to make polite and hopefully intelligent conversation. When I did get to bed it was very late and since I wanted to leave early I got only six hours of sleep. The final leg of our journey was an uneventful ten hour drive which ended at my parent’s home in time for visiting hours at the hospital.
I told no one about seeing snow capped mountains in Missouri or the lack of money for the trip for a long, long time. I needed to be with my aunt and she was so happy to see us that the entire experience was well worth the nail biting trip.
There was yet another bright spot to this journey. Coming across Route 40 in a blizzard had been a total “white” experience but the return trip a few weeks later was quite the opposite. I never again took Route 70 or 80 west of Denver. Instead we took the road less traveled and enjoyed the breathtaking beauty of rural Colorado.

Still Marching to the Music

2009-03-24T20:20:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in my blog from a few days ago, we are "March" ing to the music this month. On Sunday evening Jim and I went to McCauley High School to hear Solas. The tickets were won on WNKU when I was the lucky 6th caller!

On Tuesday (tonight) we drove to Hamilton for the 10th Anniversary of the Music Cafe. It was a joy to hear three of our favorite musicians helping the MC celebrate their success. There was standing room only in the cafe and the celebration was in full swing when we arrived. I found Carol and Joe enjoying the music. Mark Cormican was performing when we arrived. He ended his set with my favorite song of his ... "Always in the Mood for You". I've loved that one since the day I first heard it!

Next up was Eric Loy, a fingerstyle guitarist with some very unusual renditions of known and unknown songs.

We moved up to the front row to enjoy Raison D'Etre. Violet, Roberta and Vicky were performing songs from their newest CD as well as a song from their Swing Canary sets.

Jake Speed had the crowd in stitches at some of his lyrics and stories! I never get tired of hearing Jake and the Freddies.

We had a wonderful time and were only sad that when we got home it was bedtime and not time to play a few tunes. (Ahh, if we were still in our 20's we'd just stay up all night and jam)

It was truly a wonderful night and well worth the drive to Hamilton.

Tommy Sands

2009-03-21T22:17:00.001-07:00

After performing at the Covington Library on Saturday afternoon, Jim and I met a handful of friends at the Fairfield Community Arts Center to listen to Tommy Sands. We had met Tommy a few years ago at a festival in Newport, Kentucky. Performing with Tommy on Saturday were his children, Moya and Fionan. I usually have a fidgety time sitting through a two hour concert but not with Tommy. His stories, jokes and touching ballads made the evening fly by. We had the opportunity to speak with Tommy afterwards and he signed a photo that I have had since the festival in Newport a few years back.

Tommy Sands is an Irish treasure and his children are following in his talented footsteps. Moya not only played fiddle, whistle and bohdran but she charmed us with dance steps throughout the evening. Fionan was a bit more low key but he also was a multi-instrumentalist.

They were heading back to Ireland after Saturday nights concert but anytime they are in our area, they are worth the drive to hear them! Tommy songs will move you and make you think while his jokes are fun little rays of humor!

Now I want to learn at least one of his songs to include in our sets!

March to the Music

2009-03-19T04:40:00.000-07:00

March has been a month of music for me - either listening or playing. I have performed with the Sweeneys and as a solo artist doing children's music. Its been so much fun and if I add up all the days that we either rehearse or perform, we've been busy.

However, best of all is the music we enjoy by other artists. As I wrote earlier, we enjoyed Joan Baez on the 10th and this weekend we are attending a concert by the truly great Irish singer/songwriter, Tommy Sands. On Sunday we are off to hear Solas, another Celtic band. Include in this the Sunday night Leo Coffeehouse and a few St. Patrick's Day celebrations and we have have a musical month.

On the 14th we joined a group of our friends at a ceilidh - a gathering for music, food and friendship. We are all levels of musicians and we share songs and enjoy each others contributions. I can remember when Jim and I first started hosting ceilidhs in 1992 and I was still taking a full second or two to move my fingers from one chord to another. Lyric sheets were always in front of me and I was a nervous wreck. We have all grown and become more comfortable. Sharing music with family and friends is the best way to March to the Music!!!

Get Outta Here to See Joan Baez

2009-03-11T07:36:00.000-07:00

Around 3:00 p.m. on March 10, 2009, Jim and I met up with Julie and Mike for the hour and a half drive to Louisville. We stopped for dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack right on the riverfront and as we ate we watched barges slowing down just in front of us to make their swing into the McAlpine Lock. Leaving the riverfront, we drove into the center of town, found a spot and walked a few blocks to the theater. Standing in the lobby, I enjoyed chatting with the ushers waiting outside of the doors. Being an usher myself, its fun to share experiences, similarities and differences in our theaters.

When we found our seats and the lights dimmed in the Brown Theater, a familiar face took the stage. Stacy Owen, former WNKU personality and now with a Louisville NPR station emceed the evening, welcoming us with her soft voice and sweet smile. The Brown Theater has recently been restored and the ticket office did not exaggerate when they claimed there was not a bad seat in the house. Our seats in the fourth row of the balcony had a wonderful view of the stage with just the right elevation so that the head in front of you did not block the view.

Joan walked onstage to a standing ovation then smiled, thanked us and picked up a parlor size guitar for her first song. Dressed in jeans, a men’s style jacket draped with an aqua blue scarf, she brought the Louisville crowd to their feet again with “Lily of the West”. She talked between songs describing times, places and events. Her second song, “God is God” was written by Steve Earle who also produced her latest release “Day After Tomorrow”. She promised to weave through the decades of her career and went straight to one of her oldest and most loved “Silver Dagger”. We were all moved to tears by “Come Back Woody Guthrie” followed by “Joe Hill”. Joan told stories of her experiences at Woodstock and then sang Donovan’s “Catch the Wind”. She gave credit to each songwriter and explained why the song was special to her. Except that is, about midway through the evening when she sang Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young” and “Don’t Think Twice”, punctuated with her own “Diamonds and Rust” and no explanations were needed. The crowd was moved by “Jerusalem” which I think was also written by Steve Earl. She ended her set with “Imagine” by John Lennon as she fed us lines to share the song with her.

I worried for a minute when she took her bow and walked over to accept flowers from a fan. She seemed to be walking a bit stiff and uncomfortable. I thought to myself she was showing her age. However, when she came back on stage, she had her jeans rolled up and her feet were bare looking quite spry. She admitted that her shoes were killing her feet and any worries about her age rolled away. Still breathtaking at 67, her smile lit up the theater. She seemed small standing among her backing musicians, even in her uncomfortable heels. Her silver hair was illuminated by the light and her trademark silver bracelets somehow stayed out of the way of her guitar playing.

She introduced her band and even her tour assistant, Stephanie Hudacek, who switched Joan’s guitar every few songs. John Doyle was on guitar, mandola and Dirk Powell was on piano, mandolin, fiddle and banjo and Todd Phillips played upright bass. Each of these fine musicians added harmony and backing vocals, too.

After an encore of “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” she led us all in “Amazing Grace”. I was honored to again be singing that timeless song with a folk icon who has inspired me for more than 40 years. As all musicians should, she made the song her own and we sang it just a bit differently than we had with Jean Ritchie, Pete Seeger or Judy Collins. It was the perfect ending to a perfect evening.

Get Outta Here - Anticipating Joan Baez

2009-03-10T07:43:00.000-07:00

This afternoon Jim and I will join Mike and Julie in a Get Outta Here to Louisville to see and hear Joan Baez. We're hoping to leave Cincinnati before rush hour and arrive in Louisville in time to catch a bite to eat.

Seeing Joan Baez is one more event in my list of legendary folk singers I would like to see/hear/meet. So far its been Pete Seeger, Arlo Guthrie, Joni Mitchell, Judy Collins, Richie Havens, Tom Paxton, Jean Ritchie and more folks I can't think of right at the moment. I was sad to have never seen Odetta. What a legend she was!

I was privileged to have the chance to spend time with Jean Ritchie on several occasions when we brought her to town for concerts. Being a Ritchie by birth, I can only hope that we are somehow related.

I talked with Judy Collins and Tom Paxton and that, too, was wonderful.

Judy, Joni and Joan were huge influences on my learning to play music as a teenager. I guess that goes for most girls my age! Now my role model is Jean Ritchie who said that its the words that matter along with Pete Seeger who is still going strong at 90.

Sadness Comes in Threes

2009-03-02T18:23:00.000-08:00

Growing up with family from the hills of Kentucky, we were raised with many superstitions. One was that when you heard of someone dying, there would always be two more. Bad things come in threes. I heard on Saturday that Paul Harvey died. I didn't know him but like many Americans, he was like a wise old uncle who had sage advice and stories to share. On Sunday it was Uncle Al, the host of the children's show we all loved in the 50's. I was on his show at least three times that I can remember. Just today I was waiting for the other shoe to drop (as my mom would have said). Who else would I hear had died? Sadly it was a man I met through work, Wade Nasser. Mr. Nasser ran a small store downtown and had been robbed on a few occasions. Last time he was robbed he chased the burglar down the street, shooting at him. Today, they shot him. My heart breaks for his family because I knew he cared about them and I am sure they loved and respected him, too.

I know that good things come in more than threes. I pray that will remain the same forever.

CD Release at the Music Cafe

2009-02-25T07:05:00.001-08:00

Tuesday, February 24th was magical. Surrounded by friends, I sang the songs from my Wander Not Lost CD at the Music Cafe at the Fitton Center in Hamilton, Ohio. Sharing the stage with me were Peg Buchanan playing violin, Tim Kelly playing guitar, harmonica and bouzouki, my grandson, Nick, playing bass and my husband Jim on percussion. We were so very lucky to be joined by Lenny Hall on Chris Haubner's Hope for Snow and Roberta Schultz sang harmony on Just Like Tom & Huck and The Ribbon. Joining us for the night of music were my friends - Papa Joe, Wendy Hawkins, Phil Schwartz, Greg Buening, Daryl Mahan, Gary Schultz and my buddy, Carol Mahan who took photos for us.

The folks at the Music Cafe are the most welcoming of any venue I have ever met. Greg on the sound board, Mark as emcee, Keith (booking) and the great folks who worked the stage and the refreshment table.

It was a night to remember and that was made easier by the lovely birthday present from Carol Mahan. She brought me a journal scrapbook which already contained articles and blogs! What a great present! (These are her photos)

I had originally planned to just make a CD for my family and friends but due to the wonderful music contributed by my talented friends, I give these to anyone who enjoys my stories and songs!