The Keeping Room

One Hundred Years Ago...

2011-12-07T10:00:00.000-06:00

Born December 7, 1911

Today I am REPOSTING this feature in honor of my father John Patterson.
The original title was December Boy. In the great scheme of days
and hours...one hundred years suddenly seems not such a long time ago.
My father was an in inventor and played several instruments and
sculpted figurines from wood in his spare time. And like so mnay who offered
so much light in the world...gone...way too soon.
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This is my first offering for Alan's Sepia Saturday. Of all the old photos I have, this one is very dear to me. It makes me think of the photo that Willow found on one of her treasure hunts a few months ago. As I study it here on the big PC screen, I am suddenly aware that it may have been this very photo that gave me a love of baby dolls and baby boys! Don't you just want to scoop him up in your arms? Can't you just see him toddling downstairs on a wintry morning rubbing his sleepy eyes? Isn't he simply adorable? For as long as I can remember, the photo has been creased and scratched. A few years ago, I did have it very carefully retouched and cleaned up very nicely, but this is the real deal version. Here are the facts as I know them:

This photo probably dates December 1913 or January 1914.

The child is close two years old.

He was a redhead.

He was born December 7, 1911 near Birmingham, AL.

He was the fifth of eight surviving siblings.

His name was John.

He died June 10, 1971.

This is the only known baby picture of my father...NOT grandfather.

(Click on photo to enlarge.)

Oh, Mr. Livsey!!!

2011-10-12T17:10:00.002-05:00

Well .....here HE is, and here we are getting off the train near Willow Manor.

The train journey took more time than imagined, but it was so much fun traveling with the oh so ...and ever English gentleman Roger Livsey! So on to the car....and I see our trunk has been strapped to the back and we will soon be there.....

Oh Heavens,,,,where is the chauffeur--- Nigel? Nigel, please hurry we need to get to the Manor house!

Of course this is gorgeous....right neighborhood, but not the right house....keep going...I know she is close to the river.......just over that rise.....keep going, Nigel!

Ooooh.....hhhhh .....Lord what a view....and oh my the road ends.... we must take to the footpaths!!

Here is the river...so powerful and mysterious...just like Mr. Livsey.....

A short time to regroup...and encouraging words to one another....we decide to follow the river...

Maybe this is the right house.....

Or maybe it is this one....

Oh...I know this he right place....this is the barn where Mr. Ed stayed last year!!!

Oh for sure we can change here....I know Willow won't mind....Do you have your velvet coat and dress kilt, Roger, darling? I'll just take my gown from the trunk. Hurry the ballroom is waiting!!

Take your rest Nigel and thanks for carry our things!!

Off to the ball....

2011-10-12T01:25:00.001-05:00

It is that enchanted time of year, and after going through my mahogany wardrobe several times, I found this treasure. I picked it up in a London auction house back in June 2010. I did pay a ROYAL price. Someone said it was once owned by a certain princess. I think this portrait of my great grandmother must have inspired me...though I think my dress is .... well... it may be.....just a tad more interesting than hers. I'll be slipping into this after I have had time to freshen up from the train ride from Auburn to Dublin! I think we will be arriving in just a short time. There is a very special person in the compartment next to me. (And we know where we're going.) Be at the station if you want to get a peek at my oh so daaaaaarhling companion for this year's gala along the banks of the Scioto...under a full moon,,,,where the magic has a glow all its own.

Miss Willow is weaving another tapestry of music and dance and romance....don't be late, now!

Next Stop: Willow Manor Ball 2011

Great Grandmother Rebecca Cameron ......I must say she looks ready for any ball!

For the Falling Man

2011-09-08T14:00:00.002-05:00

"...falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling,

like the descent of their last end,

upon the living and the dead. "

Today, I was asked by my principal to review a poem that a young man at our school had composed as a remembrance of 9/11 to be read over our public address system here at school on Friday morning. I had never actually met this student until this afternoon. He explained that he was in the first grade in September of 2001, and just felt he had to write a poem in honor of the day. He also told me that the story of Flight 93 had really left a deep impression on him when he saw it at age 13. He is now a junior. We talked about the bravery of so many people who were forced to make decisions on that day. I told him that I personally remember feeling that New York City was really very close when I knew in reality that it would take me over 18 hours to drive there. Each morning I came to school in those days after, I wanted to just go there--not really knowing what I could possibly do to help anyone--but the sense of wanting to let so many there know that I was trying in my own way to help with the leaden weight they must bear was quite overwhelming. I confirmed that even now, he just knew he must do this probably for the same reasons. It is because we know we are all "falling through the universe" like so many snowflakes in James Joyce's lines from his story "The Dead." And because I knew he would appreciate another poet, I shared with the young man Annie Farnsworth's poignant tribute to a man who appeared on the front page of major newspapers* and who is buried in our collective consciousness as we mourn and revere that day in September.

For the Falling Man

I see you again and again

tumbling out of the sky,

in your slate-grey suit and pressed white shirt.

At first I thought you were debris

from the explosion, maybe gray plaster wall

or fuselage but then I realized

that people were leaping.

I know who you are, I know

there's more to you than just this image

on the news, this ragdoll plummeting—

I know you were someone's lover, husband,

daddy. Last night you read stories

to your children, tucked them in, then curled into sleep

next to your wife. Perhaps there was small

sleepy talk of the future. Then,

before your morning coffee had cooled

you'd come to this; a choice between fire

or falling.

How feeble these words, billowing

in this aftermath, how ineffectual

this utterance of sorrow. We can see plainly

it's hopeless, even as the words trail from our mouths

—but we can't help ourselves—how I wish

we could trade them for something

that could really have caught you.

*Click on the title of this post to read a recent article on the photograph of The Falling Man.

My photos (click to enlarge) were taken by the Colonel in the churchyard of

Holy Trinity at Stratford-Upon-Avon, June 2006.

It’s the Good Old Summer Time!

2011-07-12T11:30:00.004-05:00

It's the Good Old Summer Time!

What have you been doing to keep cool? I have been remembering the days before air conditioning and ice makers. Sue ( on the left) and I filled up the ice trays, enjoyed long slices of watermelon, and when all else failed, we went to the creek. Please come and enjoy a salad supper, iced tea, some good old fashioned summer memories, and the best gossip in town! Oh, yes, if you bring your swimsuit, I'll turn on the sprinkler!

July 29, 2011

6:30 PM Central Lightning Bug Time

Graystone Cottage

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This is my latest invitation for my Women's Night Out group. I have used an old photo taken by my brother. This creek is near my childhood home. It was quite a trek to creep down the walls of the deep ravine to Lost Creek, but the cool air and sounds of the running water and the chorus of bird song are a permanent and glorious page in my book of memories.

(Click on photo to enlarge.)

Boleslawiec Tea Party

2011-06-21T08:20:00.008-05:00

(Click on photos to enlarge or to "embiggen" as Country Girl says!)

After being hauled around in the Colonel's carry on luggage through several airport layovers, these little Polish beauties are safely on my table. I have admired Willow's Boleslawiec mug often featured in her sidebar. And more than once, I have passed up one of the mugs at T. J. Max. I do struggle with my I-Need-New-China habit. I recently visited a unique gallery, The Cat's Meow, in Pine Mountain, Georgia which offers very handsome prints, framing, and a huge collection of Boleslawiec pottery! I oohed and aahed for a long time, but I was strong, and left empty handed. Shopping for a gift in Ramstein, Germany, my dear husband came upon a similar stunning display and confessed it was hard to make a decision. The Colonel knows me well. "Hmmm, blue and white, teapot: dishes!" Trifecta! Yes, this lovely set is a big hit at Graystone Cottage this morning! Cuppa tea?

(Click on blog title to visit the official website for the pottery.)

My Father

2011-06-16T15:55:00.005-05:00

John Patterson

He did not go gentle...

My father has been dead for forty years as of this month. For the last ten years of his life, he suffered from cancer, likely caused from radiation poisoning that he experienced while doing post WWII research at the Pentagon in 1951. I was eleven when he had his first surgery and ironically, radiation treatments. All during my early teens and, as I was becoming an adult, he was dying -- and quietly raging. He never complained or said anything about his suffering to me. He stayed busy, kept his sense of humor, and took in as much of life as he could. He was a wonderful dad. I was twenty when the "dying of the light" claimed him. Click on the the image above to hear Dylan Thomas read his famous villanelle. I never teach or read this this poem without thinking of my father.

"Who hath desired the sea? -- the sight of salt water unbounded..." Kipling

2011-06-06T01:00:00.007-05:00

We had been at our favorite Gulf Coast haunt since Monday, and I had yet to pick up the camera. Just before 7:00 on Friday evening, I stepped out of my second story bedroom at Greenpeace cottage to snap a few pictures. I wanted a closeup of the oleander.

The lense fogged over, but I liked the effect.

Here are the same blossoms against our neighboring cottage once the lense was cleared.
...and its second story porch.

More cottages across the road...

Then I set off for the beach: out the front door, turn right, pass one cottage, step across Highway 30-A, a two-lane where all traffic stops for the beach bound pedestrians.
And as the sign says, just a few feet away...

The West Ruskin Pavilion where I stood to take the photo on the header.

Beauty to the left of me...

..and once on the pavilion...beauty to the right of me...
slightly marred with a yellow caution flag ...

and the last of the day's beach combers paddle around under a crescent of clouds...

...turn around, stroll back to our cottage...

...and to the peacefully suspended --slowed motion of Seaside.

(Click on any photo to enlarge; then click again for an even larger image)

The Bustle in the House...

2011-05-21T11:15:00.011-05:00

The Bustle in a House

The Morning after Death

Is solemnest of industries

Enacted upon Earth—

The Sweeping up the Heart

And putting Love away

We shall not want to use again

Until Eternity.

Emily Dickinson

The face that said, "Will I ever feel better?"
The Colonel made these photos late Wednesday afternoon. He took numerous frames, and in the header above is his masterpiece. For a moment, the sunlight and cool air and time with dad, masked all the weakness and pain.

Underneath that beautiful coat were frail bones and shortness of breath as the ALL
(acute lymphoblastic leukemia) rapidly took its toll.
It was only last week, May 12th, that she was diagnosed.

Wednesday evening, we took Gracie to her vet, and had her put to sleep. Thursday morning, the Colonel and I went downstairs only to fall into the deep hole left behind where she had filled our hearts with her morning greetings in the kitchen. We survived that first morning only to return from work in the evening to the lead reality that she would never again be there with face smiling, tail wagging, and big paw patting us on the leg. It has been sad in this house. It is the price one pays for loving a pet so very much. However, in comparison to all that she gave to us in love, laughter, and joy, the grief is a small price indeed.

As the school year marched on, I had promised myself that I would get in at least one post per month. When I posted about Gracie's tenth birthday last month, I had no idea she was the least bit ill. Every day we can claim health, love, and life is a gift.

Who Rescued Whom?

2011-04-20T15:30:00.020-05:00

Gracie at age 2 (click on photos to enlarge)

Our big dog Gracie just turned ten years old on Monday. According to berner.org (click link to learn all about the breed), the average life expectancy for a Bernese Mountain Dog is 6 to 7 years. Cancer is a big problem for the breed, and this one has had a close call. As of today she is well. She is now in the age range I once read about when researching the breed back in the early 90's: Life expectancy was then 10 to 12 years! The Swiss say, "Three years a young dog, three years a good dog, and three years an old dog." I have to say Gracie seems to be right in the middle of being a GOOD dog. She likes to give a literal good morning hug, but no longer does whirling leaps in the air and barks as her morning greeting. That was in her wilder days. She loves to have her ears rubbed, and to have her coat either vacuumed with the Kirby or fluffed with the leaf blower.....that is really funny to see! She prefers to drink from running water--from a pitcher being poured into her bowl or from an outdoor faucet or garden hose.

We found Gracie in December of 2002. Our male Berner, Fritz, had died earlier that year in June at age 9. The house was just not the same without him, and Christmas was coming. I saw an ad in the Atlanta Journal for an 18 month old female in Tiger, Georgia. She needed a home because her owner had sustained a serious back injury. When I first mentioned it, no one at home was interested, but you know what they say about the magic of Christmas. On Saturday morning, December 14th, the Colonel said to me over breakfast, "If you really want to go see this dog, I will go with you." Honestly, that statement was all I wanted for Christmas. We made our way to the Northeast Georgia mountains, found the farm, and there she was in the miniature stables with miniature horses! It was too charming for anyone to resist! Giving her up was as sad for the owner as it was joyous for us! We were all weeping when is was time to load her up and head back home. Her father was a major show dog, but Gracie has lived a quiet, happy life , along with her spaniel sisters and the one and only Deusey the Cat. I know she would say her life is good in

"Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain.

Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain"

~~~~~Oliver Goldsmith "The Deserted Village"

Gracie at age 4

It was about this time that I began reading and hearing about more and more Berners serving as therapy dogs. This is a favorite photo taken by my niece Nancy. This is classic Gracie the Therapy Dog behavior: Her paw resting comfortingly on your knee and a look that says, "You just go ahead and pet me as much as you need to and tell me all your troubles.
I am listening."

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR GRACIE!

A horse, a horse...a War Horse...

2011-04-11T21:00:00.008-05:00

Once upon a time --for about nineteen years-- I taught seventh grade. One of my fondest memories was being witness to the eagerness my students exuded when given a chance to buy their very own Scholastic paperbacks. Scholastic always had great offerings. I would get a stack of small newsprint brochures, and the kids would place their orders. They ordered new stories and classics. In recent years, I have been teaching mostly seniors. These students do not order paperbacks. They read and write texts -- seemingly re-inventing Sanskrit! We just read the standards. And oh, the torture they endure! Yes, there are those who read outside of class, but I am sometimes afraid to ask just what they are reading. Oh for the days when my students wanted books and not cell phones!

I have been hearing from some of my colleagues who are still working with seventh graders about Michael Morpurgo's WAR HORSE, yes, published by Scholastic. Here is a story of a horse which may alter everything you ever thought you knew about horses. It was written for an adolescent audience, but it is galloping on its way to the classics shelf! You may have seen the feature broadcast yesterday on CBS's Sunday Morning all about the stage play based on Morpurgo's book. Click here to see how War Horse has been transformed for the stage. This play is my number one destination if I can get to London this summer.

While reading up on the production in London, I discovered more news. Not to be out done by the stage or the genius of the life size and truly realistic puppetry of the play, Steven Spielberg has the movie in the making, and we may see it as early as September 2011!

The Colonel and I have a small collection of original World War I posters. I first saw this one in a catalog we have. Though Fortunino Matania's (1881-1963) Good-bye Old Man is my all time favorite, I have only been able to find a reproduction of it. I know it was published first in the magazine Sphere, and also in several books of the artist's work. I have been looking for an original poster since 1979. I had better find a poster for the play and movie WAR HORSE.

'Tis the Season to be Irish!

2011-03-13T20:40:00.002-05:00

Don't ask me how this happened so fast! Today is the second anniversary of this blog. True, I am not the most active nor prolific blogger, but I do persevere! And I love it. To celebrate, I want to have my first give away. Now I know this may take a while because I have had a rather quiet winter here in the blogosphere, but I hope I can make the rounds and remind many of you that I am alive and well! But no matter, just be the first person to identify a famous photographer in this --my second movie, followed by an email (link is in my profile) in which you include your mailing address, and I will be sending you a gift prepared especially for you from

The Keeping Room at Graystone Cottage!

Enjoy the images and the song.

Making Movies

2011-02-14T12:25:00.003-06:00

The sun was out today. It was almost warm here for a short while. I paid a little visit to my struggling violas and the medieval country dancers who have not let the weather get them down.
I have been absent too long. I thought I would try something...almost spectacular for me....and try to make a short "movie" from some of my favorite images collected as I was gathering up pictures for my blog. It took me all afternoon and into the evening.
Perhaps, I am more influenced by the movies than I want to admit. Who has not imagined some of the more dramatic moments of his or her life emblazoned on the big screen? I am pretty sure my first effort will only be a little treasure to me and maybe to my family. I offer it here just to show you that I learned something new today!

Many thanks to Country Girl for her inspirational New Year's Day post and to Buttons & Bows for their song, "Inisheer" (I have these backward in the credits!!!)

Love Me Tender with a Birthday Bouquet, Lamb Chops, & a Happy, Happy Day!

2011-01-08T11:59:00.007-06:00

This vibrant and redolent bouquet was delivered to my door this morning, signed:

We love you, Robin & Tim! I offer a sincere and warm thank you to

my sister-in-law and her husband in NC.

We had a grand Christmas with them and now THIS! It is beautiful!

News flash: I have had another birthday, and it was a big one!

No, the young cashier did not ask for my ID when I purchased some sherry and tawny port, but on the up side, my students from years past can still recognize me! Of every ten outings I make anywhere near home, I would say nine will surely put me face to face with a person I have had as a student. What a blessing that they always want to stop and visit for a moment!!

I have also had these adorable nesting sheep added to my existing herd of woolly Colin's Creatures. (Click here for his website.) I think this makes seven!

I shall need to round them up and do a head count.
Thank you, Cameron & Little Lisa Lou Who!

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No Elvis sightings, but NPR played a lovely instrumental of "Love Me Tender" as one of their transition pieces this morning. And the young lady who gave me a facial (a birthday treat earlier this week) revealed to me that her father was indeed an Elvis Impersonator!
Weehhhhhhll, Thank You Vehhhry Much!

Live, Love, Laugh...

2010-12-31T15:39:00.004-06:00

No one does it better than Nancy, my niece--as well as the little sister & daughter

I never had-- and dear friend!

Here she is in Asheville, NC on Christmas Day!

May your New Year be filled with health, happiness,

wisdom, and wonder!

All I Want for Christmas...

2010-12-20T19:15:00.001-06:00

...is a good old fashioned department store and the Santa Claus to go with it. There is nothing like Christmas to send us back in time. More and more, I long for the excitement of the annual drive to downtown Birmingham, Alabama. My mother would make sure that my two older sisters and I were warmly dressed for the great ooohhhh and aaaah stroll outside Loveman's and Pizitz's enchanted windows. What we beheld were the most detailed interiors with busy kitchens, Christmas trees, dining tables all populated with moving figures dressed in intiricately designed Victorian costumes. Then there were exteriors of villages with horses and carriages or early automobiles and trains. Some years there were ballet dancers and nutcrackers. I wish I could find a book about these displays. Hum....Google start your engines!My last trip there was probably in the mid seventies when my older son was about four years old. The malls were on the prowl all over the surrounding suburbs, gobbling up one great tradition after another. The mall versions were never like the downtown namesakes. They never had the charm and personality, never had the Christmas windows, toy departments, or Santa Clauses. Once those flagships sank, a very special Christmas magic disappeared from the Magic City. Fortunately, my mother was one to embrace the experience which has been so endearingly celebrated in the classic film A CHRISTMAS STORY, and I have these pictures to spark some wondrous winter memories.

Sisters Sue (left) & Anita (top)
and Marnie on Santa's lap.
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The Heisman Touch

2010-12-05T22:25:00.010-06:00

Behold, the 1899 Auburn University football squad. This portrait was taken on the steps of Samford Hall when the school was known as Alabama Polytechnic Institute (API). Zoom in on the football and you can see the date inscribed there. (Click once and then again on the photo to enlarge.) Study the face, third row in the top left corner. He has the mustache:

You are looking at Coach John W. Heisman, and I must say we are feeling his legacy here in Auburn. I just wanted to say, " Good luck, Cameron Newton in the quest to become

Auburn's FOURTH Heisman! "

Coach John Heisman 1895-99

Pat Sullivan 1971

Bo Jackson 1985

UPDATE: December 12, 21010

Cameron Newton 2010

YES we Cam!!!

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Click here for more Sepia Saturday Posts! These are always fascinating!

Finally, a Club I Can Believe In!

2010-11-14T18:15:00.007-06:00

This club was featured this morning on CBS Sunday Morning (click on title to view).

I thought I was the only person who had constant corduroy cravings! I guess you could say it is the Southerner's cashmere! Yes, we have and wear wools, but heavy cottons have always been favored. Among the many corduroy garments in my closet are skirts, dresses, jumpers, pants, shirts, but my current favorite is a red L. L. Bean barn coat. The corduroy is embellished with tiny embroidered pheasants: Very much in keeping with the fall weather. For the holidays, I have a few fancy and richly colored dresses made of beautiful paisley printed corduroy. The fabric is getting harder and harder to find. The last dress-worthy bolt I came across was a Liberty of London print on black. That was nearly two years ago.

Who else out there loves corduroy?

Happy Birthday, Pumpkin!

2010-10-31T14:00:00.000-05:00

Cuyler

Kindergarten

Cuyler

Pre-school

Cuyler

2010

Just Ask Jeeves...

2010-10-24T21:30:00.001-05:00

Hugh Laurie as Bertie Wooster & Stephen Fry as Jeeves

Post Card with Detail of Samford Hall at Auburn University

...if you want to know a little bit about the Auburn Spirit. This is an excerpt from the film documentary Stephen Fry in America. Of course, this event was a couple of years ago before Cameron Newton came to the Loveliest Village of the Plains.
"I say, Jeeves, do you know anything about a Number One ranking? "

Something Wicked This Way Comes

2010-10-17T14:30:00.010-05:00

1914 Poster

My Postcard from Oxford

(click on image to enlarge)

Some people just have perfect timing. This is the postcard I received on Friday, my first day of a four day, long weekend/ fall break. I have been immersed in school, not on Blogger (with the exception of one magical evening at THE Ball) and certainly not writing to the people who should be hearing from me. Quite naturally, of course, this card was from my dear friend Anne of Cumnor Hill, Oxford! I had just the day before swore I would call or write to her. My how the time flies while re-reading elegies, Beowulf, ballads, and Chaucer! Then--there is the teaching and grading papers and posting grades! Whew! Next it will be time for my favorite: Good old gory Macbeth and his even more blood thirsty Lady! (My son was showing me some Shakespeare Flair on Facebook, and one badge featured a new product line: Lady Macbeth Hand Soap! Gotta have it!) The card above is 5x7 and quite detailed! I have scanned it in and will be using it as a desk top at school! ~~~~Believe it or not, I used to teach a version of the play to my seventh graders when I worked at a junior high school! I had developed what you might call an enrichment unit to introduce Shakespeare at an early age. I used a story form of the plays artfully composed by Leon Garfield. I actually had his book Shakespeare Stories featuring about eight or so of the Bard's best told in unique narrative form and embroidered with just the right quotes from the plays, but I had not used MACBETH. These stories were just perfect for the young adolescent audience I taught. I had just returned to my classroom from a spring break trip to Scotland with three of my favorite seventh grade girls, (no wonder I refer to it as my Miss Jeane Brodie tour), to find our favorite read of the time--a set of the latest classroom literary magazines--waiting on my desk.

Now dear readers, get this: The four of us had--just days before --toured Holyrood Palace in Edinburgh. We were doing our very best to be attentive and listen to the thick Scottish accent of our tour guide in the ballroom lined with portraits when our eyes fixed on a most sinister portrait. A close examination of the descriptive plaque under the painting revealed to us MACBETH! Suddenly he was very real. His gaze was piercing. Until that moment, I was not even certain he had been an actual person, nor had I ever taught the play. (My first 22 years of teaching were all at the junior high level with mostly seventh graders.) I must have thought he was one of Shakespeare's inventions. I consulted my Asimov's Guide to Shakespeare in which he gives detailed historical background on each of the plays. I learned that King Macbeth (reign 1040-1057) was indeed a very real feudal king, and that Shakepeare had written the play after Queen Elizabeth's death to appeal to his new patron, King James of Scotland who was very interested in witchcraft! So imagine my great surprise when the feature article of our Scope Magazine was Leon Garfield's MACBETH!! (Play the spooky music!)

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So that is how it began for me, and even with my high school seniors, after we read and discuss and study the play, I always like to share and/or revisit
Ray Bradbury's story Something Wicked This Way Comes. The novel is admittedly deeper and darker than the film which was released in 1983, but the the Disney studios made a masterful interpretation of Bradbury's tale of an aging father (Jason Robards) and his young son coming to terms with their fears, all stirred up in a bubbling cualdron of emotions by Mr. Dark. (Jonathan Pryce). The story is told from the point of view of the son, and focuses on the autumn of his twelfth year when a most unusual carnival comes to town. And, I must say, this is not your typical Disney tale, but it is a classic at our house. (I believe Bradbury wrote the screenplay.) If you have never seen it, you are in for a real Halloween treat!

"By the pricking of my thumbs...
Something wicked this way comes..."

from Macbeth, Act IV, Scene 1

HOT Couture! Thank You, House of Elliot!

2010-09-30T11:25:00.003-05:00

The House of Elliot: Beatrice & Evie

Hotter than an Alabama Summer!

If anyone really wants to know what happened in Episode 4 (some devoted fans swear there is one) of The House of Elliot, here's the scoop: The two Elliot sisters, Evie and Beatrice made their way to to the Southeast and set up an exclusive but small design shop in East Alabama....and we Steel Magnolias are keeping them busy.

After watching all three seasons last summer, I knew these two could create the finest interpretation of Madame X's gown, and here it is!
I posed for a local photographer right there in their offices. With my hair up, my super cyber diet and hours at the spa and the vigorous laps in the swimming pool, I have managed to achieve a most glamorous look, if I do say so myself. The Colonel asked me if I would be wearing this to have some fried catfish at his favorite diner, Jim Bob's....and well... I had to tell him that Coop was waiting outside in his Duesenberg! He smiled and said, "Go have fun....college games on TV tonight. See you when you get back....but I want to take the Duesenberg to Jim Bob's Friday night. OK?"
You got it, Lover!

Here is a layout so you can compare their work--my gorgeous gown

for tonight--to the Singer portrait.

And thank you Gaston Studios for your suggestion that I could leave off the pearl choker!
I don't want anything to inhibit me on the dance floor.

Ball Gown in Black, Please!

2010-09-29T09:00:00.005-05:00

Don't ask me why, but I for some reason I had decided that I really should wear black this year. I suppose it could have something to do with the visual effect of taking away the pounds. I like a sleeve most of the time, but the ones on this gown were just so plain......

so.......I finally decided on no sleeves at all! I have taken this image of John Singer Sargent's Madame X (Portrait of Madame Gautreau, 1884 oil on canvas, Tate Gallery, London) to my dress maker ! She is a marvel at forgery when it comes to needle and thread and taffeta! I have been in for several fittings, and I am collecting the dress this evening!
Now, where is my pearl choker???

It's A Duesey

2010-09-26T09:10:00.003-05:00

Some women may want to know what they are going to wear to
a fancy ball before they think about how they will get there. I have long been enamoured with elegant automobiles, and today came across these newspaper clippings. Now -- yes, I have been talking to my dressmaker about a certain evening gown I have always admired, but first I had to know how I was going to get to Willow Manor. I called up an old flame --you know 1-800-AFTALIF 0r 1-800-GR8BYON --and asked if he still had his Duesey--said I needed a ride to the most fabulous social event this side of the Mississippi. Actually, I was just going to borrow his car and go alone. He seemed very curious. I added a little extra intrigue and said that I had heard George Sanders was going to be the guest of honor. I whined about how I had to drive my own car last year, because my date was just a sweet little ole country lawyer from Maycomb. He gasped, and asked was this same ball where the likes of Al Pacino, Rudolph Nureyev, and Miss Piggy had been seen on the dance floor and meeting behind the palms ? He began to gush:

" You have an invitation to the Willow Manor Ball? Really? I heard Gregory Peck and some others just raving about that last October. Well, I am pretty sure I can get to your house by mid week if I start out in the morning. I may have to retrieve the Duesenberg from a museum, but I will be by to pick you up, and then we will head north to the ball! It's pretty quiet up Here on the great movie set in the sky. I am ready for something a little more Down to Earth, if you know what I mean!"

So, ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the ball? Click above on Willow Manor Ball or the link in my sidebar. As for me, looks as if I have a great ride, my gown is in the making, and my escort is not too bad either...just lucky I guess!

Sepia Saturday: From a Favorite Book

2010-09-20T16:45:00.001-05:00

Back in June when I was on the coast enjoying the beach, I found this book at Sun Dog Books in Seaside, FL. I did not purchase it that day, and when I went back for it, I could not find the one copy. In July when I was in Monroeville, AL and browsing the cozy little shelves of Beehive Coffee & Books and chatting with Mary Badham (aka Scout), I found a single volume again! This time, I made it mine! I had remembered it only as a picture book, but in her introduction Victoria Randall shares a brief history of photography. Beginning with the daguerreotype, named for Frenchman Louis Daguerre, to tintype, to ambrotype, calotype, cyanotype, (all TYPES new to me), and collodian, up to George Eastman's introduction of the first film camera. With this, came the traveling portrait photographer, and most specifically featured in this book: The Pony Man. Throughout America were photographers going from town to town with an outfitted pony and a suitcase full of riding costumes. In her modest (120 pages)
treasury of nearly a hundred charming photos spanning from the 1880's to the 1960's, Randall includes many personal details and inscriptions for each image. Here are just a few captured by my camera. If you love sepia photographs and children and ponies,

you should give yourself this book.

CIRCA 1939
Doesn't she remind you of Bonnie Butler in GONE WITH THE WIND?

CIRCA 1918

CIRCA 1918
(click on pictures of the book to enlarge)

CIRCA 1971 Near Fort Rucker, AL

Our first born, Cameron, is seen riding his made in England Mobo walking pony.
I think this is the last one of these sold from Pizitz's in downtown Birmingham.
My Tennessee cousins had owned one, and I had longed for a Mobo to show up under my Christmas tree when I was a pre-schooler. Years later, I was astonished to find him in the toy department and sent word immediately to Santa. He reserved the toy before Cameron was born. Happily for his first Christmas, it became his first and only pony. Alas, there were no traveling pony photographers by this time. This is an old Polaroid I took, with a newly added sepia effect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When it's midnight in the meadow and cats are in the shed,
And the river tells a story at the window by my bed,
If you listen very closely, be as quiet as you can,
In the yard you'll hear him,
It is the pony man.

Opening lines of the "The Pony Man" by Gordon Lightfoot

For other Sepia Saturday Posts, click HERE!

My Summer Vacation? Maybe next year...

2010-09-07T17:23:00.016-05:00

Once upon a time, when Michael (Where is he?) was maybe NOT Shouting at Street Lights , he was kind enough to tell me about a magical sounding place for horse lovers. It may have been when I posted a photo of a real sweetheart, Chloe, a mare I had visited at the AU vet school, or perhaps when I had done one of my many

"Boy-do-I-love-horses-and-wish-I-had-one-now-and-forever!" kind of posts.

Anyway, he sent me a link to a place in Northern England that I frequently visit online. After I have read all about the different "rides" that Cumbria Heavy Horses has to offer, then I invariably float off into a Walter Mitty styled daydream of not just going there for a summer vacation...but actually going there to live part of the year. For a little while, I ask myself...."Dang, Miss Marnie, have you lost your mind?" Realizing that over the years, I have listened to fans of Fantasy Football, Fantasy Baseball, Quarter Horse Trail Riders, Harley Riders, and Appalachian Trail Hikers, go on an on about their passions, I must say this place does not seem so far fetched.

Okay, call me romantic, but there are two things high on my Bucket List: Ride a horse on a an English beach in the winter and go on a sleigh ride.....yes.....in a one horse, opened sleigh.

I am sure these winter fantasies can be attributed to far too many viewings of

THE LION IN WINTER and DOCTOR ZHIVAGO! I too am of the Woolly Socks school of thought made so totally endearing and fashionable by Willow of Willow Manor fame!

So pop over to my Fantasy Horse Farm where I borrowed these images to lure you there!

Let me know if you want to join in .....when I win the lottery and buy this place!

And yes, I will have to have plenty of sheep too!

PS Don't forget to explore all of the warm and welcoming places you can stay
at the end of long day of riding on the fells !
Oh Lord!! Someone stop me before I create another link!

On a Mission from God...

2010-08-22T22:00:00.005-05:00

No, it's not one of the Blues Brothers, but Father Wells Warren, just back from South Africa. He went there to do a wedding. He was away for two weeks, returned Friday, and had another wedding yesterday. I believe he is going for a record! An Episcopal priest who can recite Shakespeare's sonnets with such perfect timing and grace that they seem to be part of the Prayer Book's wedding sacrament is bound to be in high demand!
While I should have been at St. Dunstan's this evening at six, I was learning how to use all of the online resources, webinars, and interactive programs for students that is just one more task in getting acquainted with my school's newly adopted literature books. Of course, I had to register: create yet another USER NAME and password for each of my two books! There are some positive aspects, yet it is just one more way to make sure we teachers are never idle!! Just when I was ready to throw the laptop off the table, thinking all I had wanted to do today was make a new post on my blog, and end the day with some inspiration and solace at my church, I thought...at least check Facebook--check on your nieces and far away friends....and Father Wells.
And so I found that it is true for other professions: We are all living our lives with the internet ...and tonight... I have to say for the better. Let's hear it for Father Wells who has begun posting his sermons online. This one is well worth your time...and I am especially grateful that I had a chance to read it. Now I can go to school tomorrow - clean and bright in spirit - polished by these words (click to read tonight's sermon).

What is your mission this week?

SOUTHERN LIVING....eat your heart out!

2010-08-07T19:58:00.003-05:00

After visiting nearly every flooring showroom in Lee County, hauling home sample after sample, being in love with the travertine castle floor look, wide plank antique hickory, or just the same oak floor as the rest of my home, I finally made a choice. And yes, I am happy to report I DID get one "Our Old House" project underway and completed this summer. I finally settled on a very practical product and Home Fashion Center of Opelika (the town where Hoke missed the turn in Driving Miss Daisy) took care of the rest of the work! Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce our new kitchen floor!

Here's the view from the dining room.

The new one is in the same color family as the older floor we had for over twenty three years, but it is several shades lighter and seems to really draw in the mid-afternoon sun beautifully. The whole room seems to take on that Faulkner "Light in August" quality...a soft and sunny brilliance. Of course, much credit and many thanks go to my good friend, neighbor, and interior painter extraordinaire: Bob of Bob's Bread fame. Not only does he paint trim work and plaster walls to perfection, but the man can bake the most wonderous sour dough bread you have ever tasted. We can't wait until our Christmas loaf arrives!

Here's a certain slant of light.

Gracie wanders in for a major stretch! She loves to lie on the cool floor
and sometimes even the air vent, but she would not be still for a picture!

This is the view from the garage entrance!

Yes, this is going make a nice welcome home for the Graystone gang!
Cup of tea, anyone?

Arabian Tails & Breakfast Cereal

2010-08-02T16:00:00.002-05:00

A few posts back, I shared some photos of my trip to Tennessee. We were there to attend a wedding. Adding to the delight of this event, we stayed in a restored cabin, and visited with several beloved cousins, one of whom raises and pampers Arabians in her spare time.

My trip to Pulaski would not be complete without a stop along Sorgham Hollow Road to say hello to my cousin Melody and her horses. This is the landscape of my childhood summers now made even more beautiful by the antics of this frolicking family swishing their tails, prancing, and playing to the camera!

These decided to keep busy searching for sweet grasses...

while this sweetheart came to say hello.

Then everyone wanted to be at the same place at once!

"This is my good side...take the picture, ok?"

As is often the case, today I set out to do a bit of reading on this ancient breed and stumbled onto a fascinating connection between the Arabian horse and Kellogg cereal! In the early 1920's W. K. Kellogg established a horse farm in Pamona, California as a retreat for himself and his family from Michigan and as a place to raise Arabian horses. He would go on to make it a gift to the state of California and to establish a library at Cal Poly in Pamona devoted to the Arabian horse. Click here to explore this story. I highly recommend the 1995 Founder's Day Highlights video and the 1932 audio featuring Will Rogers as master of ceremonies for the presentation of this historic property to the state!

If you just want to read up on the breed click here! For the WikiPedia scoop, click here!

To visit the W. K. Kellogg Arabian Horse Library click here!

And by the way, Melody told me she may be planning to sell some of these darlings!
Now that is just about as commercial as I will ever get in the blogosphere!
Speaking of commercial, which Kellogg cereal is/was your favorite?
I am a Kellogg Rice Krispies kind of kid! Snap, Crackle, Pop....
with strawberries & blueberries & cold, cold, milk in the summer time!

Sepia Saturday: The Boomers

2010-07-24T16:40:00.004-05:00

This photograph was taken in a small studio or booth at the Alabama State Fair in Birmingham, October 1951. That is my sister Carol Sue on the left with her pale strawberry blond hair, adorable freckles, and of course, her cowboy hat. Yep, you got it, I am the baby sister. This is the only baby picture I have ever seen of myself. We had an older brother and sister, born before WWII. I believe my mother must have had her hands full. At this time, my father was on active duty for the Korean War and was stationed at Mountain Home, Idaho. All five of us had just returned from the first train trip across the country and back to visit him. God bless her; my mom still had enough energy to take us all to the fair! Amazing!

For more Sepia Saturday participants, click HERE!

Monroeville & Mockingbird Magic

2010-07-19T18:00:00.013-05:00

This is just one of the many Mockingbird houses on the Mockingbird Historic Trail in Monroeville, Alabama. The house was designed by an engineer and painted by a local artist.

This one is just outside the door of the Monroe County Courthouse.

View from the balcony where Jem & Scout watched as Atticus defended Tom Robinson. (The movie set was designed to be identical to this room.)

Niece Nancy and actress Mary Badham - "Scout " -- get acquainted in the Heritage Museum gift shop. Mary was in town for the four day celebration along with hundreds of MOCKINGBIRD fans. We visited with her before we did our reading in the courtroom, in the evening at the 1930's Dinner, and the following morning at the Beehive Bookstore.
Many thanks to the star of the film who graciously signed our books.

This plaque, mounted on a large stone which rests on the courthouse lawn,
is well worth reading! (Click on photo to enlarge, then click again.)

In the documentary FEARFUL SYMMETRY: The Making of To Kill a Mockingbird, Gregory Peck talked of his meeting with Mr. Amasa Coleman Lee. Though none of the scenes in the movie were actually filmed in Monroeville, many of the people involved with the production visited the town in preparation for the Academy Award winning film. The actor explained how Lee would hold a pocket watch as he was talking or thinking: "I stole that from him," he confessed. Mr. Lee once defended a black man in a murder trial and lost the case, just as Atticus lost his case for Tom Robinson. As a result, Mr. Lee never practiced law again.
After her father's death, Harper Lee gave his watch to Gregory.

Life and art merge, and devoted readers remember in this small,
Alabama town named as the Literary Capital of the state.

The Hybart House was a gift to the town from the Hybart family and has become a cultural center. (This was where Truman Capote and Harper Lee dined with friends the night before they left for Kansas to do research for Capote's In Cold Blood.) And this is where we attended the 1930's Dinner. Some of the guests were the townspeople in their costumes who play the different roles in the annual production of the play held every May. There was music of the era played on a grand piano and foods prepared by Chef Clif Holt of Little Savannah restaurant in Birmingham. The menu included fried chicken, potato salad, spiced peaches, ham, cornbread, turnip greens, and lane cake -- all foods mentioned in the book. A special drink was served on the lawn: the Tequila Mockingbird.

One of the terms on the vocabulary list for teaching the novel is
"shinny" which is, of course, the local and affectionate term for moonshine!
I took the photo of the birdhouse, and all other photographs are courtesy of Stevie Wonderful, my nephew and lucky husband of Nancy!

Listen to the Mockingbird

2010-07-09T00:00:00.005-05:00

Over the past few days I have been pacing through the downstairs rooms of my house reading aloud from To Kill a Mockingbird. My only listeners have been my dogs. You see, I am rehearsing for my 15 minutes of fame. As part of the 50th anniversary celebration of the publication of Harper Lee's novel, a reading marathon begins at 9:00 A.M. CDT in Monroeville, Alabama in the Monroe County Courthouse. The second day will be Saturday beginning at 9:00 A.M. until the entire book is completed. Though this is just one of many such marathons throughout the country this weekend, it is the one in the hometown of Miss Nelle Harper Lee and the fictional Maycomb. My actual fifteen minutes begins at 2:30 CDT. I have tried to gauge the pages I will read. As it is not an exact science, I have decided to concentrate on chapters ten though thirteen and just hope that I am close. Yes, I have been immersed in the book and the film and numerous articles. I have always been fascinated by the beautiful and melancholy opening scene as a child's hands open a cigar box of gathered treasures accompanied by the tender and nostalgic music of Elmer Bernstein . And yes, I have always been proud of the two children from my county who gave life to Jem and Scout Finch: Phillip Alford and Mary

Badham. (Word has it that Mary may be reading, too!)

"One-shot Finch"
In Chapter Ten, Scout complains that Atticus just can't do anything. When a rabid dog is seen walking down the street, Atticus is summoned from the courthouse by Calpurnia. The two children are stunned to discover that their father is quite a marksman.

Jem's wide eyed wonder at his father... captured by Phillip Alford

Mary Badham's favorite scene with Atticus-- the name she used even for her offscreen and lifelong friendship with Gregory Peck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Of the many articles, special features, and critiques and facts about the novel and the film that I have studied this week, one offers a truly fresh perspective. In the summer 2010 publication of Alabama Heritage, (click to read entire article) Auburn University historian and professor, Dr. Wayne Flint concluded his six page article "Universal Values: The Enduring Legacy of To Kill a Mockingbird" with his customary wisdom and insight that have made him famous in this neck of the woods:

"In one of those delicious ironies for which Alabama is reknowned, a novel written by a white woman from Monroeville, on the edge of the state's Black Belt has become the primary literary instrument worldwide for teaching values of racial justice and tolerance for people different from oursleves, and the necessity for moral courage in the face of community prejudice and ostracism. Inside the pages of the book, readers may discover not only a New South but perhaps even a new humanity."

Star Spangled

2010-07-03T19:30:00.000-05:00

for William & Thomas

Coffin Flags

I keep two neatly folded flags

within a bedroom window seat
among outgrown children's clothes, cedar, and woollens

things seasonal, seasonally forgotten.

On the Glorious Fourth they unfold

along with distant pain and loss
that a younger sister shouldered inside her silence

then left with me to be remembered.

I keep two neatly folded brothers:

The Korean statistic lost above the 38th parallell,

A patriot eternally deployed

While his WWII brother waits in Elmwood.

I keep two neatly folded soldiers
whose stars stare bravely back at me

and see a wife not theirs

and see my sons, not theirs

and see their future cruelly stolen.

And in their stars I see the gentle heroes

who make Independence Day bittersweet

and free the heart from any doubt

of why we celebrate liberty and love of country.

I keep two neatly folded souls

and remember.

Click HERE for details on William & Thomas

Diana: A Celebration...Born July 1, 1961

2010-07-01T23:10:00.008-05:00

Among the many artifacts in the the childhood gallery of Diana: A Celebration were several small figurines. I know at least one was a Beatrix Potter character, with its ear or arm broken off. I wish I had written myself a note. For some reason, it is the most haunting memory I have from my May 28th visit to this special presentation at Atlanta's Civic Center. Also quite striking, was the blue HALO vest over a plain white shirt and pale tan jeans that Diana wore when visiting Angola to bring attention to the great dangers of land mines. It was in the gallery with many of her most elegant evening gowns, suits, and matching shoes. We have all seen the images of maimed children, and of Diana comforting them. Perhaps the tiny little figure (no photographs allowed), still much loved and cherished, helped her foresee her future. It stood proudly and left a powerful impression on me, as did her girlhood ballet slippers and her oh so small school uniform.

There are thousands of tributes to the memory of Princess Diana, but on this 49th anniversary of her birthday, July 1, 1961, I thought I would send you to one prepared by the Spencer family. Here is the website of Diana: A Celebration, which closed on June 13th, with the next installation scheduled for Grand Rapids sometime in November. It is beautiful and tasteful, as was Diana. I did not go there expecting to sit in quiet wonder in the gallery with her wedding gown for thirty minutes, but I did. I did not go there expecting to read the hand edited version of Charles Spencer's eulogy and weep for her again, but I did. I did not go there expecting to see a wall of bookshelves filled with condolence books from towns all over the world which were sent to the Spencer family, but there they were! I did not go there expecting to sign a remembrance book, which her brother seemed to KNOW I would need, but I signed it:
" I miss her presence in this world, still ... and every day."

Have You Seen This Plate? OR .......................The Dog We Left Behind

2010-06-28T16:45:00.004-05:00

This darling dog was the resident canine companion of Clock Creek Cabin where we stayed during the weekend of May 22 for cousin Rebecca's wedding. He adorned the wall of the bathroom, and we so wanted to take him home with us. The owner of Lairdland Farms and this charming, restored log cabin says he is not ready to part with the pup. Alas, I will just have to book another stay to see those beautiful, begging eyes again. Meanwhile, I am looking for this plate. There was no information on the back, other than the fact that is was designed with a notch so as to hang it on the wall. I will say that it seemed to be somewhat old.

Of course, there were many other wonderful features at the cabin.

Just out of sight is a much needed step stool to climb into this comfy bed.

Gorgeous old pine floors and period furniture made for an authentic restoration of the cabin. I enjoyed reading historic books all about the town of Pulaski in Giles County, Tennessee, where I spent many of my childhood summers. On a nearby 600 acre farm, I passed many a day cavorting with beloved cousins Larry, Gary, and Melody. We swam in ponds like the one near this cabin, rode tractors, got lost in cornfields, looked for crayfish and swam some more in Buchanan Creek, and climbed high up into the hills and pastures where we all had to take turns being Davy Crockett on a given day!

The upstairs loft featured these twins bed across from another queen sized bed, making plenty of room for our son and his family to join us.

The cabin was set near a meadow and a cold water spring.
Just plain peaceful. (Click on any photo to enlarge.)

If you look across the meadow, you can just see the top of the spring fed pond. In the early evening this was the stage for a most spectacular lightning bug display. Well, that is what we call them in the Deep South, but I also love "fireflies." One look at the glowing dancers over the tops of these grasses, and the existence of the fairy folk seems a certainty.

A place for meditation be you a mortal or a spirit...

A view from the hillside...

The side porch where we sat and watched the lightning bug ball.

Goodbye, Clock Creek. We will be back again, Mr. Blackburn.

Sepia Saturday: Who's Your Daddy?

2010-06-26T15:10:00.008-05:00

Yes, yes, I know last Sunday was Father's Day! I was busy celebrating, plus I had house guests here to help me. Good grief, these dads are a so much trouble. No wonder they did not get a holiday until 1972! And beside that, I have so few sepia photos, I save them for Sepia Saturday posts. So, here we have my father John Daniel Patterson. This is his high school senior portrait from 1929. His first job was working for Tennessee Coal & Iron aka TCI as a miner. On the back of this photo, written in his own hand "Mr. John Patterson, Edgewater Mining Camp." I think he must have been proud of becoming a working man. He was working for college money and soon made his way to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa. There is a better version of this portrait, but this 4" x 6" is special to me because it features his handwriting. (The mark on his left cheek is a stain on the photo.) My father had thick, auburn hair. I was his fourth and last child, and the only one with the same color hair as his. I can remember my Grandmother Patterson telling me that every time I visited her as she would pat my head and comb her fingers through my hair.

This is a postcard addressed to my mother when she was a young and single working woman in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. There is no message, only the address "Miss Nina Cox, and Bay St. Louis, Mississippi" written in pencil and a one cent cancelled stamp. (I can't quite make out the date, but my best guess is maybe 1933 or '34.) When I would shuffle through the photo box and come across this handsome fellow and ask, "Who is this man, Mom?" A big knowing smile would appear on her face. With a sweet, little chuckle she replied, " That was almost your daddy!" I think his name was Hollis Lloyd or maybe it was Lloyd Hollis. I am not sure now, but I am certain he was not my father.

Click here for more Sepia Saturday Posts!

Let It Be, Birthday Boy!

2010-06-18T15:35:00.003-05:00

Today is Sir Paul's birthday, born in 1942. Thank goodness for Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac to keep me up to date on the Fab 4! Have I ever told you, dear readers, that I had the great good fortune to see the Beatles three times? Also, I did get to see Sir Paul at Phillips Arena in Atlanta about five years ago. Hum, I will have to check that date.

Look into these eyes...Is it any wonder so many were in love with Paul? And the spell of his music is still evident all around us. Last month I attended the wedding of a cousin in Tennessee. Her father, Gary, would have been just a little older than I am. He and I were great pals during the sixties and were great Beatles fans. He died in 1998 when his baby girl, the bride, was in the fifth grade. As I sat in the church, getting teary, anticipating the traditional notes for the entrance of the bride, I was wondering if an uncle or a grandfather would be giving Rebecca away. The doors of the church opened; the sunlight of late afternoon flooded the small chapel illuminating the lone bride. Everyone stood up for her. The warm sounds of the organ poured out a familiar melody, and "Let It Be" escorted her to the alter. Thank you , Sir Paul.

Sepia Saturday: Face of a Poet

2010-06-12T08:15:00.004-05:00

Robert Graves 1895-1985

When a memorial was placed in Westminster Abbey's Poet's Corner on November 11, 1985, poet, translator, novelist, and critic Robert Graves was the only survivor of such World War I greats a Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfred Owen. After a long and distinguished literary career, he died the following month. In her brief notes on him, Natalie Merchant introduced me to the young Robert Graves. My first experience with his writing was his book Greek Myths, and of course I, Claudius from Masterpiece Theatre. I have read his biography of T. E. Lawrence and translations of works I have taught, but I missed his children' s poetry. I must say, some of it is not exactly light hearted, but then not all of childhood is.

VAIN AND CARELESS

Lady, lovely lady,

Careless and gay!

Once when a beggar called

She gave her child away.

The beggar took the baby,

Wrapped it in a shawl,

"Bring her back," the lady said,

"Next time you call."

Hard by lived a vain man,

So vain and so proud,

He walked on stilts

To be seen by the crowd.

Up above the chimney pots,

Tall as a mast,

And all the people ran about

Shouting till he passed.

"A splendid match surely,

"Neighbours saw it plain,

"Although she is so careless,

Although he is so vain."

But the lady played bobcherry, *

Did not see or care,

As the vain man went by her

Aloft in the air.

This gentle-born couple

Lived and died apart.

Water will not mix with oil,

Nor vain with careless heart.

*A play among children, in which a cherry,

hung so as to bob against the mouth,

is to be caught with the teeth.

Graves was wounded so badly at the Battle of the Somme, he almost died. He and Sassoon were young officers in the Royal Welch Fusiliers (RWF). Wikipedia's biography is useful and informative! To hear Natalie Merchant's music set to this poem click here! From this official website, you may also select videos of several other pieces from her new CD. (See my post for June 7.)

For more Sepia Saturday posts click here.

A Milk-White Horse

2010-06-07T17:50:00.007-05:00

Equestrienne

See, they are clearing the sawdust course,

For the girl in pink on the milk-white horse.

Her spangles twinkle; his pale flanks shine

Every hair of his tail is fine

And bright as a comet's; his mane blows free,

And she points a toe and bends a knee,

And while his hoofbeats fall like rain

Over and over and over again.

And nothing that moves on land or sea

Will seem so beautiful to me

As the girl in pink on the milk-white horse

Cantering over the sawdust course.

by Rachel Field 1894-1942

Though this may not be the one in Rachel Field's poem, this white horse is one of my favorites from the gallery of work by Heywood Hardy. The name of this painting is "Noonday - Taking a Horse to Water." I hope to take you to the wellspring of Natalie Merchant's new CD Leave Your Sleep. Listen (Equestrienne) and drink the fresh waters of her creative and inspired music set to the words of poets who were writing not merely for the children of their day, but for all who cherish and honor childhood with its mystery, magic, and melancholy.

My younger son picked right up on the hint I dropped for a Mother's Day present after I had heard Ms. Merchant discussing her latest project on NPR back in April. In fact, he had been "reviewing" the music in the days before May 9, and saying, with a huge smile and sparkle in his eyes, "I have a great present for you....I mean GREAT...Do you want it now?" I declined. Even when I did get to open it, I had little time to listen closely and pore over the poems and the commentary featured in the small book which holds the two CD's. Last week, it was vacation time. Though the sun was shining on the Gulf Coast, the gloom of the coming disaster was heavy in the atmosphere...everywhere. When I was not sleeping late or dining on seafood with best friends, or staring more deeply and more sadly at the unbelievable beauty and brightness of the beach at Seaside (as seen in my header photo), I was escaping into this music. And what a thorough escape it is! For anyone who writes poetry or music, or both, this is a must. I suggest you click on the RED link above and allow Natalie to tell you about it. Then try the PINK link for her dramatic presentation of just one of the 26 poems. (You will see other selections from the CD on YouTube as well.) Should you decide to purchase this, you really want the 2 CD version with the book (not the one with 10 or 12 selections). The photographs of the poets along with short profiles are both eloquent and scholarly. Guess which mother and son have tickets to Natalie's August concert in Atlanta?

Sepia & Memorial Day

2010-05-30T21:15:00.005-05:00

Have you ever put off writing a post until you took care of another one that had been waiting, and you have not done that one, so you really should not do any until you can pull yourself together and just do it RIGHT? Yes I have procrastinated, and that is the truth. I have been wondering what I could say about a month long absence from The Keeping Room other than "School just takes up all my time!" I have been busy, mostly with work, but also with just having a wonderful time which I will tell more about in the coming summer days.

For now, I am ready to tell you about my Sepia girl, a day late for Sepia Saturday, but on time for tomorrow. The little girl you see above posed for the camera some time in the early 1930's. She was eight or nine years old. I believe this was taken before scarlet fever rendered her deaf. Elsie, named after her mother, was a bright and industrious student. She had two brothers, William and Thomas. Her father was an accountant for Tennessee Coal & Iron and her mother a loving homemaker. After high school, she earned a scholarship to Gallaudette University that she never used. However, marriage was foremost in her plans, and she married just as America became involved in World War II. Her older brother William, First Marine Division, died on an island in the South Pacific, in the spring of 1944, just weeks before her first child was born. Three years later, she had a daughter. Her younger brother Thomas, 11th Airborne, fought and died in the Korean War. His body was never recovered.

Before Elsie died in January of 1981, that first born son, my husband, known to my readers as the Colonel, promised her (as she no doubt had promised her mother Elsie) that he would make every effort to bring her little brother home. True to his word, he has pursued this goal through the Defense POW/Missing Personnel Office. (Click on the blue to read all about it!) He and his sister have sent in blood samples to have their DNA recorded. He has attended their regional meetings and heard some amazing stories much like one that aired on NPR (click in the red to listen) last month. Due the the location of Thomas's last battle above the 38th Parallel (the dividing line between North and South Korea) the chances of any attempt to find his remains are remote. Dealing with North Korea is a political barrier that only time can remove. This organization was born out of the efforts of families of the Vietnam POW's and MIA's. I hope that it endures. Perhaps some day Thomas will be sent home.

William was awarded the Silver Star posthumously. He is buried with his parents in Birmingham. The Colonel and I inherited his coffin flag and the one that was also given for Thomas. I composed a poem inspired by the story of Elsie, her brothers, and the two flags. I will post it on July 4th.

A Poem in Your Pocket...

2010-04-29T10:35:00.005-05:00

School Days by Jesse Wilcox

My Shadow

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.

He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

by Robert Louis Stevens

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was a first grader under the kind and expert tutelage of my teacher, I so loved this poem she read to our class that I had to make myself a copy and keep it on my dresser at home. I guess that was my earliest effort at having a poem of my own, or a poem in my pocket. As all of you poets and lovers of poetry know, April is national poetry month, and today is national "Poem in your Pocket Day." (For more details, click on the title of this post.)

The poem in my pocket today is by Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Pied Beauty

Glory be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;

For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;

Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;

Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;

And áll trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spáre, strange;

Whatever is fickle, frecklèd (who knows how?)

With swíft, slów; sweet, sóur; adázzle, dím;

He fathers-forth whose beauty is pást change:

Práise hím.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Which poem is in your pocket today?

Happy News...

2010-04-22T03:00:00.001-05:00

Miss Bowles

by Sir Joshua Reynolds

"But if the while I think on thee dear friend,

All losses are restored and sorrows end."

Shakespeare, Sonnet 30

Earlier this week, we received the happy news that the pathology on the section of bone removed from Gracie's mandible showed very clean margins, free of cancer. While her prognosis remains guarded, this result was more than reason to celebrate! The Colonel and I opened a bottle of claret and drank several toasts: the first to Gracie who is healing well and reached her 9th birthday on the the 18th, the second to all our other pets --Lucy, Paddy, & Deusey, the third our veterinarians, and finally to the extra wing we have probably added to the AU Vet. School!

'Tis Sweet to Know...

2010-04-09T09:30:00.003-05:00

" 'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark

Bay deep mouth'd welcome as we draw near home;

'Tis sweet to know an eye will mark

Our coming, and look brighter when we come! "

Lord Byron

When Cameron took this sweet portrait of Gracie, he had it printed up in a sepia tone. It isn't very old, but it had to be the image for today! I know you have seen this quote more than once on my blog -- I think it is still in the sidebar somewhere--but today I guess you might say it is more about a role reversal here at Graystone. Gracie has been a patient for several days at the AU Veterinary Hospital. She had a lesion removed from her mouth last month. It was a fibrosarcoma: Not good! The CT scan showed little evidence that the cancer had spread. So, on Wednesday the surgeon removed a section of bone from her mandible with a hope of getting a clear margin. The staff of resident doctors and student interns do a really fantastic job in the ICU and call several times a day. Yesterday, the first calls reported how that she was having a lot of pain, and that she was receiving pain meds. But the last call of the day in late evening was that she seemed to be feeling much better and should be coming home tomorrow. Well, that tomorrow is here, and I will be going to collect her at 11:00 this morning. That is Nurse Lucy on the left. Nurse Paddy (our other spaniel), Head Nurse Deusey (the cat---think Nurse Ratched) and I are all ready for her. Guess who will be boohooing, if not baying, a deep mouthed welcome once she is draws near home!!

Sepia Saturday: Nap & The Little Colonel

2010-04-03T17:50:00.002-05:00

Nap & The Little Colonel

True, Easter is the Holiest of days in the church calendar, but what would it be without all the darling toddlers wearing their adorable little clothes, balancing baskets of Easter eggs, and hugging their new stuffed toys? For today's Sepia Saturday, I offer this cherished image of my husband and his much loved Nap. My mother-in-law gave me this photo during the year that he served in Vietnam. It was taken and processed and developed by his father who was by profession a medical photographer. My best guess is that the photo was taken on Easter of 1947. The Colonel would have been three years old. He was actually born on Easter Sunday of 1944. Imagine the combination of joy and uncertainty at the birth of a first born child just two months before D-Day! Most assuredly, it was the joy that prevailed. And yes, we still have Nap. He is safely stowed away in a cedar chest, but usually appears on Easter mornings wearing a new pale blue ribbon tied in a big bow around his neck.

May Christ's love and sacrifice and the Miracle of the Resurrection

prevail in your spirit this Easter tide.

Sepia Saturday: Aunt Mary & Uncle Bill

2010-03-20T18:45:00.004-05:00

My earliest recollection of this darling couple was during the fifties when they would pack up their three boys and drive from Lakeland, Florida back to Birmingham during summer vacation.

Bill is my father's baby brother. He was born when my dad was nearly 12. Both of them were in the Army Air Corp during World War II. This photograph was taken in November of 1943, just six weeks before Bill was shipped off to Iceland. I have just been talking with him (another great benefit of these Sepia Saturday projects) and he told me he remembered that he was crossing the North Atlantic on Christmas Day of 1943. He served as crew chief with the rank of Tech Sargent in Iceland through all of 1944, and returned home in the spring of 1945. He reminded me that he and my dad returned at just about the same time, and that he remembered several family gatherings to celebrate their homecoming.

After the war , my father and Bill both returned to their jobs with U. S. Steel. In the early fifties, Uncle Bill decided to try something different. He became a jeweler. He and Mary moved to Lakeland, opened a business, and raised three sons. Since my mom and dad had some post war babies as well (Sue and I were the same ages as Bill's boys), Bill would always make sure that our house was one of the stops on the summer trips back home. Today, Mary and Bill are retired and living in the mountains of Western North Carolina, near all three sons and their families. However, Bill is still singing in a barber Shoppe Quartet organization while Mary is doing the same in the Sweet Adelines! Aren't they a beautiful couple? This photo looks like something out of Hollywood to me.

To visit other Sepia Saturday posts and learn about the project click HERE!

Happy 1st Anniversary to The Keeping Room

2010-03-13T13:20:00.007-06:00

After discovering a most enchanting and inspiring community of blogs and their creators during the winter of 2009, I took the leap into this warm stream of consciousness, of the hearts and minds which had so enriched my life, and created The Keeping Room. It was nearing the 20th anniversary of my younger son's diagnosis of cancer at age seven, and I wanted to do something to celebrate his survival and triumph over the ordeal. This is Cuyler at age one. The portrait is the work of Sam Oliver, a local photographer who was and still is in great demand in our area. This is just one of a series of photos that he took in October of 1982. We were outdoors on a warm, autumn afternoon and years away from the trials and sleepless nights and months and years of coping with cancer. I know we have not been alone in this experience. Also, I know we have been extremely blessed and graced with a recovery.

One of the themes of the American Cancer Society is celebrating the birthdays of cancer survivors. My school is a leader in fundraising for the Relay for Life this year. Yesterday, during each of the four lunch waves, a cancer survivor--a student or school employee--was recognized and students could donate fifty cents and have a piece of birthday cake. So today, as I reflect on my one year anniversary of a most wonderful year of blogging, I dedicate this post to each of you who are survivors or who have loved ones who are survivors. From my grateful heart to yours, I honor your birthdays and your lives. Peace be with you.

Sepia Serendipity: Just Jiggs

2010-03-02T18:31:00.009-06:00

One of the unexpected benefits of joining in on the Sepia Saturday project has been the photos I have found along the way. While many of these have been just plain old Kodak black and white, they are nonetheless treasures for me. This is my early childhood playmate, Jiggs. When each of my three older siblings were off to school each day, I remember long hours of quiet strolling through the pasture with Jiggs walking right behind me. Sometimes he would nudge me forward with his nose and snuffle & wuhuffle his way back to the barn in high hopes that he might convince me to put some oats in his feed box, and I would always sneak him an extra scoop. I loved using the curry comb to brush his winter coat. It was during this ritual that I could always talk to Jiggs. He was a great listener. My mother hanging out laundry nearby would ask, "Who were you talking to out there?" My reply, "Just Jiggs."

My sister Sue took these photographs with her Brownie camera.
This one certainly captures the rough and tumbly and often stubborn Welsh pony who was a family pet to my mom and dad, a noble steed to Sue, and just Jiggs to me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"To be loved by a horse,
or by any animal,
should fill us with awe-
for we have not deserved it."
~~~~~~~~
Marion C. Garretty

Jake...A King of Hearts

2010-02-15T07:15:00.000-06:00

Certainly the blog world as we know it is filled with all manner of stories and glowing tributes to Golden Retrievers. Well folks, here is one more that must be told. Jake came to my dear, dear friends Cathy & Paul just over two years ago. He needed a home. He was ten years old then. They had just lost Bailey, a beautiful Irish Setter and Golden mix, whom they had loved for nearly 16 years. In this short time, Jake has given so much comfort, so much loyalty, so much love, and so much joy to so many. He is has become a certified therapy dog visiting the hospice center weekly in addition to his daily duties as the constant companion and personal snuggler to my friends. I had the pleasure of being included on Jake's two vacations to the Gulf Coast. That first summer he was an immediate hit with each person he greeted. People who had met him once, would look for him and pet and talk to him throughout the week. They knew his name. Most memorable was his interaction with a group of children suffering from cancer who were on retreat with their families. He was invited to their talent show and we all went along. He truly held court as one by one the children and parents, would come to pet him and chat with us. Though Cathy and Paul do not have children, they are both teachers. Did I say they did not have children? They have had hundreds, but most especially they have had Jake.

Yesterday morning, Valentine's Day, Jake set off for that great Frisbee game on the beaches of Heaven. I have no doubt that Saint Francis welcomed him as The King of Hearts.

Sepia Saturday #3: Part Two

2010-02-13T07:55:00.008-06:00

Anita

Two weeks ago, I shared the story of a a fur coat that my mother made for my sister Anita. I could remember that there were other photos and had hoped to find one of her in the coat with matching bonnet and muff. What I did find was almost as good as Anita herself was such a doll!

"Peggy"

This is the Patty Play Pal which Santa brought to our house for the Christmas of 1959. She was actually for my sister Sue. This was the year of the 36" tall toddler dolls. I received a boy - Sandy McCall - dressed as a preppy school boy! Sue and I took the two them out for photos. My mom said, "Well, Peggy (Sue had re-named her) needs a coat!" So we bundled her up and took her outside for photos! These pictures really show more of the details of the coat. As the doll wears a child's 2T, this tells me that the coat must have been about a size 3 to 4. A close look reveals that the sleeves were a bit long and covered the doll's hands. It is a bit big through the shoulders, but Peggy did't seem to mind!

A few years before she died, my sister gave me her doll. There is a story behind this, but "Peggy" was really supposed to be for me. Sue was the cowgirl and not interested dolls. As I explained in a response on the previous post, the darling coat was ruined by mildew. My mother had it stored in a freezer kept in our garage. The freezer failed. When it was discovered, the damage was already done. However, finding these photos did confirm the fact that it would have been lost less than two years before Anita's daughter was born. When Nancy arrived, it was as if I had a living doll to play with. I have always been saddened that I did not get to dress her up in the coat!

For more information on Sepia Saturday click HERE!

Sepia Saturday #3: Wrapped in Love & Fur

2010-01-29T17:20:00.013-06:00

Among the many mementos and treasures which my father brought back from Europe in the spring of 1945 was a bundle of creamy white fur hides.

My dad said they were baby goatskins. He had last seen my sister Anita when she was 7 or 8 months old. She was three and a half when he returned. Anita and I have been visiting over lunch today, and she is my primary source for these facts. She remembers being told they were actually from the isle of Capri . Her first knowledge of the hides was seeing my mother and father spreading them out on the dining room table. The fur was very soft with a delicate wavy quality.

"Anita, we're going to make you a coat."

The best part of this story for me, is having Anita recall with pride and wonder the unique talents of our mother. She was, albeit self-taught, an accomplished seamstress. She made a pattern for the coat, bonnet, and muff. Once the pattern was laid, my father and mother used a razor blade to cut out the pieces. Though Mother had a pedal powered sewing machine, we believe she hand sewed the pieces together. Our dad helped fashion the covered buttons. The buttons fastened to an elastic loop covered in creamy satin--the same fabric which lined the coat, bonnet, and muff. Pink satin ribbons adorned the bonnet with bows and the ties making another bow under the chin. There were more bows and a strap for the muff. To complete the ensemble, Mother made a pair of cream woolen flannel lined pants with a bib waistband and straps which had gathered cuffs at the ankles fastened with pearl buttons. The pants were worn over a matching satin blouse in the classic style: Peter Pan lace edged collar and puff sleeves. There are no known pictures of Anita in the "little white coat" as we have always referred to it. She wore this until she was too big for it. My sister Sue, born December 1945, was next in line to wear this coat. She had the hair to match it! Our mother carefully maintained this coat through her first two girls, and it was in perfect condition still in the early fifties when it was just right for me. Thank goodness for the familiar old dime store photo booths!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anita and I have realized today that this coat, so lovingly crafted over 65 years ago by our parents, could not have been enjoyed any better than if it had been the finest ermine. In actuality, it is really just the little white Italian goat coat.

"I Say That He's Bonnie!"

2010-01-24T22:25:00.007-06:00

The Monarch of the Glen

and

Scottish poet, Robert Burns

"We'll tak a cup of kindness" and say Happy Birthday, Rabbie!

January 25th, 1759

" Comin' Thro' the Rye"

I just had to have a song by Bobbie Burns for today. I think you will enjoy Eddi Reader. She has performed many of the Burns songs during her career. I find this performance fresh yet still true to the spirit of the lyrics.

Since I had a portrait of Burns up for New Year's Eve, I offer something even more Scottish: Sir Edwin Landseer's famous Monarch of the Glen.

And if that isn't enough to have you craving shortbread and a tartan cloak, for all my buddies who love the film, here are the lyrics of the song...

I Know Where I'm Going

I know where I'm going

And I know who's going with me

I know who I love

And my dear knows who I'll marry.

I have stockings of silk

And shoes of bright green leather

Combs to buckle my hair

And a ring for every finger.

O' feather beds are soft

And painted rooms are bonnie

But I would give them all

For my handsome winsome Johnny.

Some say that he's poor

But I say that he's bonnie

Fairest of them all

Is my handsome winsome Johnny.

Hope this was a wee bit of cheer. Bonnie day to ya!

Sepia Saturday #2: From Pedals to Pistons

2010-01-23T08:45:00.012-06:00

A few facts as I know them:

This photo was taken January or February of 1947

in Talladega, Alabama.

The photographer was his father.

The shiny new pedal car is a Chrysler,

indicated on the rear insignia and by the hood ornament.

At the time he was an only child,

with a younger sister in his near future.

He would grow up to become a genuine Car Guy

and be happy behind the wheel of...

a Jeep (learned to drive in this one)

Hudson, Ford, Chevrolet Corvair (family cars)

Porsche, Huey (1200 horsepower), Volvo, Citroen SM, and

BMW Mini Cooper S (his personal choices).

No, not Ricky Bobby, of Talledega Nights fame...

(Hint: He did beget another car enthusiast.)

Yes, you guessed it!

~~~~~~~~~

The Colonel, age two, as lovable as ever

...with places yet to go!

And the answer is...

2010-01-20T23:30:00.004-06:00

What kind of car would King Arthur drive?

(see previous post)

An Excailbur, of course!

This car was one of the early retro cars!

Click here for the whole story!

Still Plays With Cars...Happy Birthday #1

2010-01-19T22:30:00.005-06:00

Just after high school graduation, we went in search of Wart!

Ah, the life of the child of an English teacher! According to our Oxford family, this stop in Glastonbury is just one of five or six places where Arthur may be buried? Could this be a National Trust plot to keep us all guessing? The influences of literature and stories of yore were not wasted on my child. He did take a degree in history, but that doesn't mean he really grew up!

My first born son is having a really big birthday today, but don't worry,

he still plays with cars. Here he is with wife and son stuffed into the 1969 TR6

he bought just before leaving for Iraq last year! Are we cozy?

Can you say, "Details, details, and more details?"

Cameron is definitely what you would call a "car guy." There is no way I could begin

to cover his vast interests in automobiles ( a genetic marker from both grandfathers is to blame)....I may ask him to do a Guest Spot here at TKR sometime in the future.

And more details....even the smallest detail matters....

The more vintage ...the better...

This is an Auburn speedster...

(click on photo to enlarge)

A man and his "MoonLander"

(aka 1968 VW Transporter)

Outside the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Museum

Auburn, Indiana where the above photos were taken

Porsche Rennsport Reunion at Daytona Speedway

This is one of my very favorite photos of my #1. We were visiting the ruins of Glastonbury Abbey and his passion for history and the mystical feel of the place were captured in his expression ....with one brown eye, one blue eye staring into his future!

I asked him, "If King Arthur had driven a vintage automobile,
what would it have been?"
Care to guess what his answer was?

The Saddest Sunday

2010-01-18T19:15:00.009-06:00

When I was twelve years old, four black girls close to my age died in the basement of this church. They had been attending their Sunday school classes. Four years later I would take a part time job across the street as a telephone operator where I worked with several other high school girls who attended services at the 16th Street Baptist Church. From them, I heard several first hand accounts of the horror of Sunday, September 15, 1963. For a full account of the story click on the title. Be forewarned, the vocal of this ballad will haunt you for a long time.

The Ballad of Birmingham

(On the bombing of a church in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963)

"Oh Mother dear, may I go downtown
Instead of out to play,

And march the streets of Birmingham

In a Freedom March today?"

"No, baby, no, you may not go,

For the dogs are fierce and wild,

And clubs and hoses, guns and jails

Aren't good for a little child."

"But, mother, I won't be alone.

Other children will go with me,

And march the streets of Birmingham

To make our country free."

"No, baby, no, you may not go,

For I fear those guns will fire.

But you may go to church instead

And sing in the children's choir."

She has combed and brushed her night-dark hair,

And bathed rose petal sweet,

And drawn white gloves on her small brown hands,
And white shoes on her feet.

The mother smiled to know that her child

Was in the sacred place,

But that smile was the last smile

To come upon her face.

For when she heard the explosion,

Her eyes grew wet and wild.
She raced through the streets of Birmingham

Calling for her child.

She clawed through bits of glass and brick,

Then lifted out a shoe.
"O, here's the shoe my baby wore,
But, baby, where are you?"

Written by Dudley Randall (1914-2000)

Really Good at Heart...

2010-01-12T17:00:00.006-06:00

Miep Gies

(Click on her name to read NYT article.)

15 February 1909 - 11 January 2010

For more than 20 consecutive years, I taught English Language Arts in a junior high school. Every year, my students read the play based on Anne Frank's diary. Considering I

may have had as many as five classes during the day, I must have read the the closing lines of the play well over a hundred times along with students. Every time it became more and more real to me, and more difficult to keep my composure. The more I read the play and discussed it with classes, the more I realized how many similar stories we would never know. First I honor and thank the darling, vibrant Anne who wrote so faithfully in her diary and the family and friends who populated the pages of that diary and the famous Annex in Amsterdam. But today, especially, I honor and thank, along with people all over the world, Miep Gies. She not only helped the Frank family and friends survive their ordeal for over two years, but she gathered up the strewn pages of a young girl's dreams, hopes, and wise insights after all were arrested. Later she presented it to Otto Frank as "Anne's legacy." Indeed, it has been a priceless legacy to the free world. Surely, Miep served as an inspiration for Anne's words:

"Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart."

The King & I: In Dixieland where we were born....

2010-01-08T15:30:00.006-06:00

image by Andy Warhol

Whenever I hear Elvis sing his An American Trilogy...and the words

"in Dixieland where I was born

early, Lord, one frosty morning"

...then I must admit, I really do miss the boy! If you have had a TV or radio on or read the paper today, you know it is his 75th birthday. The TODAY show had a feature on him, and the day is young yet. I am sure America will never get over him, but some years these features have been sparse, like one birthday when all I heard of him was on a local radio station: "This morning an Elvis impersonator was spotted at the Dunkin' Donuts Shop in Columbus, GA." I remember sharing with The Colonel ( mine not Elvis's Col. Parker) that it was an all time low for the King, and his reply was pointed: "How do they know it was an impersonator?" The King lives!

Elvis has just always been part of the rock and roll musical scene, a backdrop to my tastes as I cut my teeth on the likes of Bob Dylan and The Beatles. I do remember playing his Heartbreak Hotel on my older sister's RCA 45 rpm little record player when I was a pre-schooler, and she was a classic fifties teenie bopper! I think I was in the first grade when I used to entertain my family with my own version of You Ain't Nothing but a Hound Dog!

Indeed, it was a frosty morning today. By the time I drove out for school, the temperature was 18 with a wind chill factor of 9! And that was at 10:00 because school had been delayed two hours! As usual, all the speculation about impending snow and ice, scared it away! We were just on the line BELOW it all! As I drove toward Georgia, I thought of all the places that did have snow and even colder temperatures in the South. I thought of the tiny one room shotgun house I had seen in Tupelo, Mississippi: The Elvis Presley Birthplace. I thought of his twin brother who died. And I thought of the little hospital near Birmingham where I was born. And I thought of my mother, who very nearly died in the weeks before she delivered me. Then I remembered that it was Andy Warhol who had said that every one has his fifteen minutes of fame. But because of the sun, the moon, and stars and January 8th, I get that fifteen minutes every year!

You see, dear readers, the King and I share a birthday.

self-portrait by FireLight
in the style of Warhol

Happy Birthday, Elvis Pelvis ...

and

Thank YOU very much!

Water & Woods & Winter

2010-01-04T11:55:00.005-06:00

On New Year's Day my younger son and I drove from Auburn to the southwest Georgia pine plantation owned and meticulously managed by a life long friend and her husband. It is a beautiful drive through miles of cotton fields, pecan orchards, and quaint Southern towns like Parrot and nearby Plains. We arrived just after two with a big pot of chili and cornbread, so my son served as the First Footer at the house! (If you go to the link, view the entire card or choose "skip to end" then click on New Year's Customs.) No, he did not carry in coals or a yule log, but plenty of food and smiles! And since he had not met the man of the house, he filled the bill of tall, dark stranger! The cold weather was beginning to set in. After enjoying the soup, we had a quick ride around the property to feed the catfish and watch for deer slipping out to feed in one of the many food plots planted in oats. The catfish weren't shy, plenty of "whiskers and lips" appeared on the water's surface. However, the deer were more elusive, and we just managed to catch a glimpse of a few white tails retreating into the trees. Had we been willing to brave the cold, there were numerous observation stands where we might have held a vigil, but the warmth of the wood panelled custom home was much too appealing after just over an hour of braving the wind and cold. Next morning, I was a up and outdoors to catch the sunrise (above) on the horizon. Click on any photo to enlarge, especially the hay rake!

Turning behind me to the west I could still see the moon in the morning sky!

Parked near the drive is this charming old hay rake complemented by a fading rose bush.
I love the glowing morning light in this image. I took several photos here which will be worthy of a single post. The hay rake is possibly from the early 1900's and would have been horse drawn.

Here is a close up of the primary tree at Newman Plantation: long leaf pine.

Across the large fish pond, a thriving stand of long leaf.

These folks really like to spoil their outdoor pets: Oats, my deers?

Deeper into the woods is Warrior Creek, overflowing its banks. Even with the barren trees of winter, it is easy to see the results of the life giving rain and its waters. This is a beautiful sight after nearly three years of drought.

My header is another image from this water, woods, and winter 2010!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The Great Gift of Memory

2009-12-31T00:07:00.010-06:00

Bobby Burns 1759-96

by Archibald Skirving

Scottish National Portrait Gallery

Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to min'?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And days o' lang syne?

We twa hae rin about the braes,

And pu'd the gowans fine;

But we've wander'd monie a weary fit

Sin' auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl't i' the burn,

Frae mornin' sun till dine;

But seas between us braid hae roar'd

Sin' auld lang syne.

And here 's a hand, my trusty fiere,

And gie's a hand o' thine;

And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught

For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,

And surely I'll be mine;

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet

For auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet

For auld lang syne.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This traditional song tells us, rather allows us, to take a moment and look to our past, before we step forward into a new year. The speaker asks: Should we leave it all behind us? Then he answers: Certainly not until we honor the times we have had and friends who have been separated from us. What is it about the turning of the year that insists that our past and its memories are part of the ages--like heaps of ashes? Yesterday, in a still moment, as I waited in a local deli for a take-out order, I noticed a group of young men, obviously builders and craftsmen taking their lunch. One looked very much like my nephew Matthew who also was a builder. It is very nearly impossible to describe the memory flash I experienced, but just for a fleeting instant, I could hear his voice and rich laughter as might have wafted from such a gathering in his lifetime. In my memory was buried, not just his voice, but his big and boyish grin and blue eyes and blond curls. I have to say, it was a comfort to walk out the door thinking he had just checked in on me. So dear readers, on this last day of the year, I'll take a cup of kindness for this great and mysterious gift of memory -- and its endless voices and visions from times gone by -- be they joyous or heartbreaking -- that make each of us who we are.

If on a Winter's Night: Best Gift of 2009!

2009-12-29T01:08:00.009-06:00

In my last post, I sent you each my favorite card, and now, unwrap your gift! ( Be sure to go to Full Screen & turn up the volume!) This new offering by Sting was not only the best gift I received -- from the Colonel -- naturally, but it has been my favorite one to give others. I have been playing it since the middle of November and love it more and more.

If you you are a winter soul as I am, this one is for you.

A Christmas Card, A Christmas Memory

2009-12-23T17:42:00.009-06:00

MARGERY IN THE WOODS

Anders Leonard Zorn, 1860 -1920

Oil on canvas, 1928

Zorn Museum, Mora, Darlana, Sweden

"Warmest Wishes for the Holiday Season"

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Have you ever found a Christmas card that seemed to be the one you would want to send year after year, just because it expresses visually and literally exactly what you want to say ?

Some years ago, I found a set of boxed cards at Rich's Department Store, printed by the Caspari company of New York & Zurich. The image was the above painting framed by a rich gold and deep red border and the message inside was simple. I think I bought every box they had. I have about ten cards left. I even had one matted and framed. I love the simplicity of the girl and the tree. As a young teen, the last of my parents' four children and the only one at home, the task of finding a tree often fell to me. My father was suffering the ravages of cancer, and I tried to help my mother any way I could. Those quiet, peaceful treks into the pine woods behind our home made me long for the times when my father was well and my sister Sue and I would find the tree. I was growing up, I knew. It was a bit frightening, but I was determined to get out all the old family ornaments and colored lights, and make Christmas for my mom and dad who had done so for all of us for so many years. So, I suppose when I saw this painting, I literally saw myself -- Marnie in the Woods--a place I always loved to be. I know that Zorn's Sweden is a long way from Alabama, but the joy and magic simplicity of a native pine tree that filled our home with its scent, glowed with soft colored bulbs, and shimmered with boxes of glass ornaments and aluminum icicles will remain with me always.

Please accept this as my Christmas card to each of you who honor me with your visits here.

"And so as Tiny Tim observed, God bless us, everyone."

Pinocchio

2009-12-13T08:00:00.002-06:00

Yesterday, The Colonel and I took in the Loveliest Village Christmas Tour sponsored by the Preservation League! There was really only one house that totally qualified as a preservation project. A classic Southern Greek revival featuring original brick oven in the kitchen and large inviting rooms ... all dating back to the 1840's. I loved this house because it showcased the varied interests of the collectors in the family, and this charming statue caught my eye and my imagination. (Here is another cell phone snapshot). I wanted to rush home and watch the Disney film Pinocchio! It may be my all time favorite of the animated films...well at least it was yesterday!

Which one is your favorite....today?

This morning, we are off to another tour in Birmingham!

Giving you the Dickens...

2009-12-05T19:45:00.008-06:00

In my last post featuring a photo of an original copy of A Christmas Carol, I noted in a response to Rebecca that Charles Dickens loved to read this story aloud and had edited the text especially for public readings. I can't believe I missed this short feature yesterday on NPR's "Morning Edition" which addresses this very subject, but thank goodness, the ever attendant Colonel did not. He was telling me all about it this morning over his coffee & my tea! Additionally, he reported that he had read in the Wednesday, December 2nd New York Times of a hand written manuscript of this Dicken's classic which is on display at the Morgan Library & Museum in Manhattan . This historical manuscript has profuse editorial notes revealing the author's writing process concerning such details as converting "a spot of mustard" to a "blot of mustard" -- all are particularly fascinating when one considers he wrote the book in less than six weeks. He was trying to raise some extra funds.

As my students would say, "I feel you, Mr. Dickens!"

Now here is the fun part , dear bloggy readers: The NYT invites us to examine this manuscript online, and submit what we think is the most interesting edit in the work. Declan Keily, curator of literary and historical manuscripts, will read the submissions. He will select the most worthy response, and that reader will be invited to afternoon tea at the Morgan. When you get a chance, take a look, and let me know what you think! Also, can you guess who has finally taught herself how to create text links today for her 50th post? As we say in the South, "Lawdy......who'd 've thaaawt it!"

The Host with the Most: Our Dear Mr. Toast!

2009-12-01T22:50:00.004-06:00

Dear Mr. Toast, your Christmas Tea certainly has brought the spirit of Christmas to each of us and right on time! As a thank you gift, please accept this little treasure from one my recent time travels back to London, 1843. This is a first edition of A Christmas Carol. I absolutely must read this every year and perhaps see a play or a film version as well. If I were one of the Book People in Fahrenheit 451....I would be A Christmas Carol.

"I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year!
I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future.
The Spirits of all three shall strive within me.

I will not shut out the lessons that they teach"

Tea in Aspen? What to wear? Oleana, of course!

2009-11-29T11:55:00.000-06:00

Oleana Ensemble #1

Firelight's Choice

Oleana Ensemble #2 - I love the touch of lace and the headband with taffeta!

This number is mine! I will be wearing this to

Mr. Toast's First Annual Christmas Tea

(click on link in my siderbar)

on Tuesday December 1st!

The fact that I have lived in Alabama all of my life does not change that I absolutely love winter and winter clothes! Maybe it is because I was born on a frosty morn in January. So with this opportunity to visit Aspen, Colorado, I knew exactly what I wanted to wear!

I have always admired the gorgeous Oleana of Norway outfits which feature beautifully designed sweaters, wristlets, headbands, ruffled taffeta collars, and taffeta skirts.

If you are interested in learning more, click on the title of this post!

Ladies, for those of you who have not had time to shop, just tell me which of the following ensembles you would like, and I will put your name under the photo! Now which one are you wearing to tea? I don't mind if some of you choose the same one, or if someone wants to wear the one I have chosen! The more, the merrier ....and more glamorous! Trust me, I had a hard time deciding, but the tiny ruffle of lace around the neck of this sweater won me over. The skirts are long tea length. They look beautiful with suede or velvet slippers or even dressy boots.

Also, as you can see, they make the wearer look so very young and beautiful--just an added little bit of Norwegian Magic! I really would love to have a winter closet full of these clothes!

Oleana Ensemble #3

Oleana Ensemble #4

Oleana Ensemble #5

Oleana Ensemble #6

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Thank you, Mr. Toast, for hosting this much anticipated flight of fancy! I am in much need of it and know it will become a fabulous tradition!

It is indeed, my cup of tea!
***********************************

Simple Gifts

2009-11-26T08:00:00.013-06:00

Golden Autumn watercolor

Eveningtime

'Tis the gift to be simple
'tis the gift to be free
'tis a gift to come down where we ought to be
And when we find ourselves in the place just right

It will be in the valley of love and delight

I have long admired the softness and simplicity of the art
of P. Buckley Moss of Virginia (my header is her Colonial Church),

and this beautiful and inspiring hymn written by Quaker Elder Joseph in 1848.

May you enjoy the beauty and grace and love of your simple gifts on this day.

Peace be with you.

"I once was lost..."

2009-11-22T23:45:00.001-06:00

Matthew Ryan Bedford
November 6, 1975 - November 18, 2009

"Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come,

'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far

and Grace will lead me home."

We each may have known that ominous ringing of a telephone--too early in the still darkness of a morning --the modern version of the knelling of a village's chapel bell--that stirs the heart with dread. Thursday morning, my niece so devastated she could barely talk, delivered the news of the death of her youngest brother, Matthew. Could it be any worse? Circumstances added extra agony to this story. After rehab and many weeks of being drug free, with the help and constant support of his devoted mother (my sister), his darling wife, and the joyous presence of their two year-old daughter, Matt faltered; it was a fatal lapse. After a frantic afternoon stretching into late night and a missing person's report, Matt was found slumped over in his car, dead from a drug overdose.

At his funeral yesterday, Father Wells led a Holy Conversation rather than delivering a sermon as part of the Burial of the Dead Rite I from the Book of Common Prayer. He stated that this sort of tragedy calls on each of us not to judge Matthew, but rather to understand that addiction is a terminal illness. It affects everyone, not just the user. It can be rigorously managed, but it is never cured. He reminded us too, that we must focus on the bright day represented by the banner (in the photo) which is draped over his coffin and know that he is now at peace, never to suffer the scourge of addiction again. He then invited anyone present to share a story or just thoughts on the life of Matthew. Many people spoke and told precious stories and made heartfelt comments. His wife stood, looked at the entire gathering and told us how he was a good, kind, and generous man who loved everyone present just as she knew we loved him. It was one the bravest acts I have witnessed in a long time.

After the service ended, Matthew's nephew, Zachary age 18, sang his very soulful and tender rendition of "Forever Young" by Bob Dylan. With that, we each made our first steps toward healing our many broken hearts.

'I borrow from Emily Dickinson when I say, it is the 'Hour of lead.'

However, it is this poem that best expresses the past few days spent with my family.

The bustle in the house

The morning after death

Is the solemnest of industries

Enacted upon earth, -

The sweeping up the heart,

And putting love away

We shall not use again

Until eternity.

Fall Fading Fast

2009-11-14T13:00:00.004-06:00

Every year I promise myself that I will go the courtyard outside my window where I keep up with nature all through the school year and take some proper photos of a glorious Japanese maple. The autumn comes and races past me with school work, football games, and getting ready for holidays. (It is my Secret Pal at school bringing cherished gifts as it changes with the seasons.) I had an "Aha!" moment when I remembered one evening at dusk that my phone might do the trick!

So here is a close up of the tree's autumn adornments which brighten my view each day.

Gentle Heroes

2009-11-11T00:01:00.018-06:00

Armistice Day

The Eleventh Hour, Eleventh Day, Eleventh Month

Then ...the Captain March 1970

with his Miracle Tail Rotor Blades

which returned his crew and those they rescued

to safety .

*******************************************
To all Vietnam Veterans,

welcome home!

***************************************

Thanks to my son...

Operation Enduring Freedom

& Iraqi Freedom

We are so blessed that you will be here this Christmas!

**********************************************************

Thank you Colonel,

for your service and your heroism!

Yes, these and a few dollars these days will get you a cup of coffee at Starbucks!

(That's all he ever said about them for years....but I know better.)

Hardest earned ...

43 Air Medals

Bronze Star

Distinguished Flying Cross

(click on photo to enlarge)

********************************

Happy Veterans Day

and a heartfelt thanks to all of our men & women

who have served and sacrificed

**********************************************

IN FLANDERS FIELDS

John McCrae
1915

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead.

Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Canadian John McCrae was not satisfied with this poem, and tossed it aside. A fellow officer saved it, sent it to several publications. It became the most famous poem of World War I. Even so, it has that powerful quality to transcend its time and place. The message is always the same: a soldier survives and tells the story of those who did not. How can we possibly understand the depth of feeling -- the grief -- and yes the guilt many veterans continue to bear all because they survived? Yes, there is glory, but many veterans say it pales and is hollow when they remember the "gentle heroes" who never returned.

When my husband returned from Vietnam, among his personal treasures was a manila folder of several poems composed and typed by his co-pilot, Michael. I read them over and over...and so did many people over the years. Michael died on the very day my husband was returning to the Central Highlands from his R&R in Hawaii. Michael had gone out on a rescue mission, and his helicopter took enemy fire and exploded in flames. No bodies were recovered, and he remained on MIA status for many long years. One poem, written only two months before he died, poignantly echoes the call to remember...

If you are able,

Save for them
A place inside of you

For the places

They can no longer go...

Be not ashamed
To say you loved them

Though you may or

May not have always

Take what they have left

And what they have taught you

With their dying

And keep it with your own...

And in that time
When men decide and feel safe

To call the war insane,

Take one moment

To embrace those gentle heroes

You left behind.

by Major Michael Davis O'Donnell
January 1, 1970

(Click on the Title Line of this post to visit the

In Flanders Fields Museum)

Horsing Around

2009-11-01T20:00:00.015-06:00

"In riding a horse, we borrow freedom."

Helen Thomson

"Show me your horse and I will telll you what you are."
Old English saying

"The air of heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears."
Arabian Proverb

Nothing like the crisp autumn air to start me dreaming of horses. My friend and fellow English teacher Phillip has spent a good deal of time working on a farm where the owners have Fresians.

He once told me I would probably love them as they are the cocker spaniels of the horse world. I took that to mean they had a rather high adorability factor. Judging from the photos (portrait above & header) I've scavenged from the net, I would have to agree with Phillip.

There is a dear little book that I discovered just a few years ago, a book I should have read a long time ago. SILVER SNAFFLES is the story of a little girl named Jenny who visits a farmer's pony because she does not have one of her own. One evening as she is feeding him, Tattles begins to speak. She must go to the dark corner he says...she does....and it's the gateway to a farm where all the ponies speak to their riders and teach them all the secrets of riding and caring for ponies! My pony Jiggs was just a big pet to me. (I was a teenager before I learned that horseback riding could be such a formal sport!) He was a sturdy Welsh pony. In the winter he had a heavy, wavy coat that I loved to curry. He had a Western saddle and bridle, but I hardly ever used them. I would just grab his mane and pull up. Needless to say he was a gentle soul and patient one too. He was clever though, and stubborn. He always took me straight back to his barn and his feed box. He was good at convincing me and other members of the family that "No, no.....no one has fed me this morning....or evening."

If you are interested in the book for yourself or a child who loves horses, look on eBay and ABE Books. Published in 1937 and reprinted into the 40's by Blackie & Son, Ltd., it is quite sought after. I just happened to find one online from a bookstore in Glasgow, Scotland. The author is Primrose Cumming and the charming charcoal pencil illustrations are by Stanley Lloyd. Click on the book cover in the sidebar for more information on Silver Snaffles!

Behind the Scenes at Willow Manor: This Just In!

2009-10-13T21:10:00.002-05:00

I just bumped into Miss Piggy in the powder room, and she told me that she had secretly arranged a dance with a long lost flame of hers......a man from Russia she said....and she swooned on the chaise lounge dreamily.......I asked her if that was the same man who had been wandering around alone asking for her earlier...and she flew out of that room and disappeared into the the ballroom faster than I can order bacon & eggs!
What's all this fuss.?....Could it be........Nureyev.......DANCING here at the Manor???
(Click on this post title to see one of the highlights of Willow's Ball!)
Derrick .......your date is absolutely stunning in Swine Lake!

The Light Fantastic

2009-10-12T23:45:00.003-05:00

I rolled into Maycomb this evening just in time to catch the spirit of Gregory Peck hovering around the old Monroe County Court House. The American Film Institute has recently voted his portrayal of Atticus Finch as the number one hero of 20th century films.

No wonder he is so fond of this guy!

Not surprisingly, he was reading over To Kill a Mockingbird and remembering his dear friend. He had been expecting me he said. He pointed me down the street just a few blocks from the court house to the front porch where I would find Atticus in his rocking chair. As I walked away, I heard him say softly, "Make sure he has a wonderful time, and give your hostess my best regards!"

The court house is actually a museum...a perfect haunt for the ghostly likes of Mr. Peck.

"Good evening m'am. May I help you find someone?"

"A ball....at Willow Manor? I had a strange dream about that....Gregory Peck said I should get out of Maycomb for just once......branch out......live a little.......have a ball. Hmmm?

Well, let me see if my tux still fits."

I showed him my dress...just to prove I was not too over the top...just a little understated elegance....a little jewelry, my favorite garnet with gold earrings and and matching delicate bangle!

Suede dancing slippers. Hair pulled back in a French braid. Just the faintest hint of Shalimar...

I do love my slippers!

" A little Peck on the cheek for taking me to the ball, and then I'll change"

"Will this do? Not bad for a little ol' lawyer from Alabama?"

"Perfect, just perfect, Atticus!"

And we are off, tripping the light fantastic on the road to Willow's!

We'll be arriving any moment!

On our way to the ball!

2009-10-12T18:45:00.001-05:00

Many thanks to the Colonel and fellow car guys for polishing up my 1930 Phantom Rolls-Royce and priming the engine for the grand tour to collect my escort from the small Alabama town where he is quietly living despite his great fame. Yes, after having channeled the spirit of his dear friend and alter ego, the most distinguished Gregory Peck, I have successfully coaxed Mr. Atticus Finch from the town of Maycomb to join me at this year's Willow Manor Ball. Miss Harper Lee has graciously agreed to watch over the children, Jem & Scout, with the help of Boo Radley, who loves the little tykes as we learned from the poignant ending of TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. You may recall, that Atticus, a widower, devoted all of is time to practicing law, to justice, and to his children. I just decided it is high time that this man had a night out! The Mocking bird is on the wing, and we are on the road!!!

Looking for that certain dress...

2009-10-11T20:30:00.011-05:00

Up early for a dash to New York City and the dress salon at Lord & Taylor. I explained to the sales lady that I was looking for a dress for a very special ball....that I loved the English country house look....
She brought out this one of a kind....now I like old fashioned things.....but this was a little too far back in the Way Back Machine ----even for me! Lady Macbeth I am not. Let's try something a little more up to date.

Now this was certainly ball worthy, but way too modern for me,
and looks more like a wedding gown. Next....

This one was almost as lovely as the model, but certainly not for right me.

Then, of all people at Tavern on the Green (I had to break for lunch) there was Charlotte Moss.... well I could not very well ask for her dress.....but I would love to know how to find her designer.....she has some gorgeous taffeta evening skirts I have seen in some magazines paired with very femine white blouses.

Then I passed a shop specializing in vintage clothes.....and I was getting closer ....this 1930's beauty was so elegant...so Katharine Hepburn......but the color was all wrong for me.

Naturally I wanted to check out jewelry at Tiffany's...surely I could find just the dress to crown with the tiara and matching diamond necklace and earrings!

Then I remembered a dress I had seen in one of Sargent's paintings....a Mrs. Chapman I believe......not time to copy it .....but wait........it reminds of something I had seen in England once upon a time......so across the Pond!

Once in London, I make my way north to the walled city of York. To my great joy and and surprise, I find my dear old friends still in business (I call this Willow Magic)... and there in the window...dresses, dresses, and dresses galore in the style I love.....and yes there is velvet! I am just a velvet kind of girl! I did spend more time than the 15 minutes I had spent there the first time I visited. Once inside, I meet owner and designer Angela Holmes sent by the angels to rescue the total lack of imagination and romance in current fashions. She walks to a collection of velvets...and the rest-- as they say--is history. At last, I have the perfect gown for the ball!

Once back home....I must make plans to call on a very famous and much admired Southern gentleman. Though he has been honored and celebrated, he has never made the Most Eligible Bachelor's List, or has even been on a date as far as I know. I am determined that he will be my escort...I think he may be sort of shy. I will ask a close friend of his...and get a few tips.

Happy Anniversary to my #1 and his love!

2009-09-29T17:53:00.001-05:00

Happy Second Wedding Anniversary

September 29, 2007

Lisa & Cameron

on the way to their wedding reception

...looking in the same direction...

Much love from Graystone Cottage!

MyMy MeMe for Lyn: 7 Random Facts

2009-09-12T15:00:00.000-05:00

Okay readers, help me here. Yep, there I am lost in time in the first photo!

1. The Dave Matthews Band is the one rock band that I still like to see in concert. I adore the lyrics, the music, and fiddler Boyd Tinsley on his electric fiddle is something to behold. This is the only band I have seen live more than I saw my original favorite rock & roll band in the '60's. Dave started this band when he was in college at the University of Virginia. He grew up in South Africa, but I am thrilled he came to this country and put together his amazing band. Yo, Dave!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2. I learned to drive in a 1951 Crosley Hot Shot designed by Powel Crosley. My father had purchased the car to make an economic drive to the Pentagon in Washington D.C. where he was assigned for a period of time during the Korean War. My brother, two older sisters, and I practiced our driving in the pony pasture featured in the header. It was a stick shift on the floor and loads of fun. The side doors were removable as was the top.

While looking for a photo of this little darling, I came across yet another book I need to read.

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Remember Lily Tomlin's Ernestine?

3. My first job was as a long distance operator for Southern Bell --aka Ma Bell--located on 6th Avenue North in Birmingham. I worked there part time from 6:00 to 10:00 PM during my junior and senior years in high school. My best friend and often partner in crime, Cindy and I had applied and been hired and trained together. We worked in Unit Six which served the south side of Birmingham and a series of small towns down Highway 280 -- the same route that led to a college town named Auburn. Sometimes to keep the late evenings lively, Cindy and I liked to practice our accents: British , of course, and then Japanese, Spanish, French, and just plain Old Deep South --a la Scarlet O'Hara --when we plugged in and beamed "Your number please?"

4. One of my favorite claims to fame is the amazing fact that I actually had the gratt good fortune and pleasure of seeing the Beatles in concert 3 times! (Yes, only Dave Matthews got my attention as well as this band. )The first concert was in August of 1965 at Atlanta's Fulton Stadium. My best friend Cindy ( fellow operator in crime) convinced her mother to drive us to Atlanta. She took care of lodgings and food and made sure we made it to the concert on time. Thank you, Katharine!! The following summer, in August of 1966 my sister Sue and I took the train from Birmingham to Memphis. We had tickets to both the afternoon and evening performances at the Mid-South Coliseum. It was a much smaller and intimate venue. We could actually see their faces and hear the music!! I was much more mature by this time, and did not scream once (chuckling). It was sheer Fab Four euphoria! BEATLES 4 EVER!!!!

5. I STILL miss the Laura Ashley stores, clothes, accessories, fabric, & shoes desperately!!! Thank goodness I can still find my all time favorite perfumes Laura Ashley No 1 & 2 on eBay!
LA No 2 is a really rare find, but I have been lucky twice. As for clothes, I do have a few classic LA patterns, so I can have the occasional new taffeta or corduroy dress. At one point I was so far gone on the whole Laura Ashley era, that my good friend Bob, saw a chance to give me a most memorable Christmas present. Mind you , this neighbor, expert painter ( the only one I will allow to paint inside the cottage) , woodcutter, personal baker (his homemade sour dough bread is truly the stuff of yummylicious legend ), never misses a chance to have me double over in laughter with his humor. Having salvaged some satin & monogrammed Laura Ashley ribbon from some linens his wife had bought, he graciously presented me with my own personal and exquisitely wrapped bundle of his hand hewed Laura Ashley Fatwood (a Southern term for heart of pine pieces used as kindling) for my Christmas fireplace!

I think that was the beginning of the end of the era!

VANITY.....blame thy name on Laura Ashley!

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6. Though my usual approach to buying clothes had always been one of long, quiet reflection, I once bought two very special dresses in less than 15 minutes! I had only thirty minutes to stroll down the charming street in York known as the Shambles: a series of lilting but nevertheless sturdy & charming shops & buildings. Somewhere tucked in among the storefronts, I stepped into Droopy & Browns, the original store of designer Angela Holmes. A quick description of her style is in the name of the shop, then think medieval motifs in 1940's shapes and gorgeous fabrics. It was March and the winter dresses were on sale. I took one look at these beauties and declared something was going with me. When I returned two years later, there were several shops throughout England. I found the one in Bath, and discovered that Holmes's designs were quite in demand...and the prices had increased three fold! Alas, the end of another era was inevitable. I am sad to tell you that Angela died at the height of her career in the mid 90's.

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7. After reading The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie and seeing the film, I vowed that I would have to do something to leave my mark on my students: I would conduct student tours to England & Scotland! I did, too. In the 1980's I organized and escorted six groups of junior high aged students along with some parents. It was hard work, but it was worth every minute. I will always be grateful to the students and parents who participated in those trips. When students ask me to sign their yearbooks, I either quote Bob Dylan's "Forever Young" or say "The classroom is just a beginning; travel if you really want to learn about the world.'

(The caricature was surprise gift done by art teacher
Betsy Logan when I left the junior high school & all my travelers.)

Okay, now I am obliged, and very happily so, to tag seven of my bloggy followers to follow suit! Truly, I ask anyone who wishes to join in and share seven facts about you!
Special requests go to these 7 super duper blog friends....

Cait O'Connor

Delwyn

Janelle Goodwin

Linda

Maggie's Garden

Michael

Virginia

Oh yes, you can take your sweet time to do this.....I certainly did!

Thank you, dear Lyn, for giving me something to do!!!

August Anniversary

2009-08-23T15:10:00.009-05:00

Here is folk artist Nancy Thomas's August calendar. This time I placed it on a picture hook near a window and allowed the Sunday morning sun to pour over it. No flash necessary, but standing inside a dormer it was not easy to get very far away from the image, hence the very close closeup.

Even though I have been back to school since August 4th and have been seeing my students since the 7th, it somehow never really feels like school until September arrives. So the school boards may change the dates, but the old inner calendar has been set in stone for a long time.

A lifetime of habits and celebrations and memories revisit our years. There truly is a certain quality of light in August that streams through the window and onto the faces of my parents. The two oil paintings used to hang in my parents' bedroom, but are now in my home. As a small child, I tested the artistic theory that well rendered eyes in a portrait will follow you as you walk past them....and both sets of eyes always did. My father had commissioned these when he was in Italy...somewhere in Sardinia...during WWII. The artist used a pair of photographs with which my father traveled all throughout the war. He came home with many unusual artifacts and relics, but to me these paintings are the real and unquestionable treasures.

My parents were married in 1936, seventy-three years ago today, at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. My mother had ridden in a bus through the Great Smokey Mountains National Park from Chattanooga, Tennessee to marry my father and used to tell stories about that trip. I know to her it seemed a huge adventure, but my mother's innocent journey toward her future would be swallowed up by an even longer and more arduous journey. Just ahead of the newlyweds lay World War II spawned by the inevitable and tragic events brewing in Europe and the Far East.

" And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?"

from "The Second Coming" W.B. Yeats 1920

Between August 1936 and the fall of 1942, my parents had their first two children and built a small two story home west of Birmingham. When my father left, he was gone for three and a half years. Indeed, he did return, unharmed, though not unchanged. How my parents and so many others managed to nurture a marriage and their children through those years truly astounds me. My sister Sue (born a little over nine months after his return) claimed Super Early Baby Boomer status, while I (born five years after her) was dubbed just a plain old Baby Boomer.

My mother's oil portrait from the photo featured below.

My father's portrait most likely painted from the photo below.
I think my dad may have sat for this as well.

This is the photo of my father, Captain Patterson, taken in 1942.
He lived from December 1911 to June 1971.

This is the hand tinted photo of my mother, Nina, which my father
kept with him throughout his time in Europe.
She lived from April 1914 to April 1982.

School Daze & School Days

2009-08-06T14:30:00.001-05:00

Just when I thought I was going to settle down and enjoy my last week or so of leisure before returning to school, I found myself rearranging furniture and replacing old bath towels for new (but still all white), and making extra room in closets. This fall my son and his wife and my one and only grandson will finally have made a move to just one house in the next state and no longer have a place here in town, which means when they are here (which will be often), they will stay with us. Then, last weekend, it was time for my 40th high school reunion! It was great fun, and most people commented on the fact that we were a class that really loved one another. (Believe me, as a classroom teacher, I have observed that entire classes have distinct personalities and sometimes hate one another while the next year's group will be completely opposite.) Our class had a 10th, 20th, 25th, 30th, 35th, and now 40th reunion. So yes, we really like one another.

Now that I am back at school, and have seen my schedule of all seniors for British Literature, I am experiencing my same old butterflies and mild stage fright: tomorrow is the first day of classes. How silly does that sound? I have been adding up all the years I have actually begun a school year. Above is my first grade picture. I did not attend nursery school or kindergarten, but I did spend the year before first grade enthralled with Alabama Public Television as teachers gave instruction in language and math and social studies designed for use in the elementary classroom. I would set up a little table and chairs in front of our black and white RCA, and I would "attend" school with my dolls and teddy bears. Public television in the US was certainly in its infancy. In fact, Alabama was the first state to have a public television network in 1955! Add to that programming, Romper Room & Captain Kangaroo, and I had a pretty good start! So, when I began to account for every year, from 1957 until 2009, I realized that every year, since 1957, I have returned to a school or college to begin the quest of a New School Year, either as a student or as a teacher. Sometimes, it was a dual beginning, as when I was teaching and attending graduate school. In later years, I was teaching high school during the day, and teaching in a community college at night. If you throw in my year with Public TV, that adds up to 54 consecutive years that I have participated in the ritual of beginning a new school year.

My mother was very much a traditional stickler when it came to dressing her children. Too bad she wasn't there at school to straighten my collar before this picture was taken. She always wanted my hair in ringlets and used a large fountain pen to roll my hair into sausage curls. I hated my bangs because I had a cowlick that always made my hair lift up on one side so that it appeared to me that my bangs were cut unevenly. So, she curled them as well! This was the only one of my school pictures that was black and white. (I think some of the entire classroom photos were in black and white.) All subsequent years, individual photos were in living color.

I vividly remember my first grade teacher, Mrs. Maude Clements. She was classic: Think of the darling little lady in the cartoons with Tweety Bird...adorably plump, sweet face, silver hair in a softy shaped bun. I think she was not really very old -- maybe a late forty something. Every morning she would read to us from Psalms or from a Bible passsage relative to a holy day. My best friends in first grade were Teena, Debbie (my maid of honor), and Harold. Teena was all fun and giggles; Debbie was a little blonde princess, and Harold was adored by all as a perfect gentleman who would become a fine, handsome athlete and class leader despite his brush with polio which left him with a limp. We had the little table and chair styled desks which had a cubby hole, so in the back of the room, Mrs. Clements set up chairs for our reading groups. The floor was that rough, unfinished wood that had to be cleaned by pouring an oily sawdust compound on the floor and sweeping it up. Teena's mother, ever active in the PTA and the only working mother I knew of, bought a darling linoleum floor covering featuring many classic illustrated nursey rhymes so that we could sit on the floor in our reading groups. My favorite part of the day was right after lunch. Mrs. Clements would have us put our heads down for a nap. The steam heat would softly hum and hiss while she would play classic fairytales for us on a record player. I rarely slept but listened with rapt attention to every detail and description. This was the first time I ever heard the story of The Billy Goats Gruff and the Troll and other tales like Rumpelstiltskin.

I am certain that first year in her classroom made me a teacher. I loved my classmates, my school, and I loved Mrs. Clements.

Just Hanging Around the Cottage...

2009-07-19T14:45:00.061-05:00

(I finally manged a focused non-flash version of this,

but I had to put it on the front door!)

Perhaps some you have wondered where I have been...well, I have been right here at home. As many teachers do, I keep a running list of projects I will get to during the summer. Without going into all the boring details, one of the biggest projects was emptying two closets which needed painting. These two caverns had many hidden treasures and yes...much trash. One was in our bedroom upstairs, so we moved to the downstairs guestroom. I must say it has been pleasantly like staying somewhere else! If not for the long, tedious tasks of sorting through "stuff"-- I might have been on a vacation. One of my lighter chores has been to carefully clean all glass and frames of pictures, dusting and vacuuming all books and shelves, and keeping my small flower pot garden going. I cannot really say it has been all work. I enjoy the leisure of taking care of my dogs or enjoying my doll collection (rearranging, changing, and sewing new clothes for them). Blame that on my parents. They bought me a set of encyclopedias when I was five. Looking over the old set, I noticed that I have nearly worn out Volume D: dogs, dolls, Dickens, Dickinson, etc. I loved my World Books. Since I have been just hanging around in the house, here are a few images for you to see where I retreat indoors from the heat and humidity of July.

This is one of twelve folk images - blurred- for the year by Nancy Thomas.

The entire set is displayed on the dining room hutch, but I put the current month on the guestroom door.

Here is my favorite old volume. I was the youngest of four children, often left behind each year when school began. I lived in a rural area. I was outdoors a great deal, but loved to curl up with books whenever the weather kept me indoors.

I have always loved dolls --- baby dolls or dolls that look like children. This beauty is an Italian felt Lenci from the 1930's which I had to pass up on eBay! My sister Sue once led us right up to Santa at Loveman's department store in Birmingham and announced, " I want a cowboy outfit, guns and holster, and NO doll. Get my baby sister a cowgirl outfit and a baby doll. "

I wore my cowgirl outfit. Sue wore her guns, and I carried the baby doll when we got on the pony!

I used this page to identify our beloved dog, Ruzzy. He looked most like a Great Pyrenees with thick white fur with pale rusty splashes. He was a stray who wandered into our yard. I wanted to name him Fuzzy, but Sue wanted to name him Rusty. We compromised. He was not as GREAT in size as a Pyrenees, but he was GREAT in heart and spirit. I used to tell my dad that one day I was going to have a Bobtail---Old English Sheepdog. He told me about seeing them when he was in England. When my husband returned from Vietnam, he got us one for a first anniversary gift: Beau is featured in the side bar pictures.

I have to say, we like posters as art. This is one I found in the Bodleian Library in Oxford during the summer of 1989. Sadly, the exhibit of children's literature had been in 1987, but there was enough in brochures to help me understand the significance of the Opie Collection and its role in preserving and promoting children's books. I was able to explore and read in the library. As a member of a seminar, I was issued a library card, but I had to take an oath first! (More on that in an upcoming post!)

Speaking of children, here is one of my German girls, Gerda. She is made by Zwergnase and designed by Nicole Marschollek -Menzer. You really must click on the photo to enlarge this one to see her darling freckles!

Here is a Madame Alexander Margaret (face sculpt designed after Margaret O"Brien and used as Princess Margaret as well). I bought her on eBay from someone in England. She did not have her original Princess Margaret dress, so I found a pattern on eBay....and well -- she looks ready for school!

Here's our getaway from Upstairs....Downstairs. Another little German girl named Ada keeps the pillow fluffed. The large poster is an original 1930's travel poster for London & North Eastern Railway of England & Scotland featuring Lincoln Cathedral. The artist is Schabelsky (?) I need to check this. The name is in script and hard to read.

Joan of Arc keeps watch over us in the dining room. This is a WWI American campaign poster encouraging the women of America to save their country just a Saint Joan saved France. It only required buying War Savings Stamps from the United States Treasury! The artist is Haskell Coffin.

One small project: Find the RIGHT frame for the portrait of an acorn by Country Girl. This is the most charming photograph. It came as one of the "get one free" extras when she had a sale last spring. Some of you may remember when Sesame Street had a parody of This is Your Life. It featured a Big Oak Tree. Of course, his baby picture was a little acorn in a baby bonnet. I loved watching that show with my children!

Ironically, the flowers which are thriving in the heat are named Diamond Frost (euphorbia). Click to enlarge so you can see the delicate blooms. Feed the plants!

Feed the birds. Pick up the dog toys. Feed the dogs.
Ahhh, the dogs, denizens of our kitchen!

Hanging in the kitchen.....Wind the clock. Clean its glass. Dust the clock. Set the clock. Start the clock. It is midmorning...when all good dogs should be napping.

This is a small reproduction of a 1930's travel poster by Paul Henry which hangs in the kitchen near the back door...where all good dogs exit for their morning walk....

More Windex, to clean a poster for Alice in Wonderland at the Auburn University Little Theatre performed sometime in the sixties before I came. This is just one of my mementos from my years and many hours in the costume shop at AU and as costume mistress for several plays.

Here is Lucy, dreaming of chasing a chipmunk. She is the Princess of the Pups and holds court from her chair

She turns to recognize her audience.

Litter mate/sister Paddy suggests she come down

and allow someone else a look out the window.

Gracie could care less, as long as she is close to Mom.

These two are philosophical about the whole "Lucy in the Chair with Diamonds" attitude. Let her have the chair! Give me a Milk Bone, Mom!

Back to napping!

It's summer time and the living is .....

easy. Turn up the AC.

I am back and have lots of ideas I have been saving up for all of you!

Kindest regards to all!

When in the course of human events...

2009-07-03T21:41:00.014-05:00

John Adams

by Gilbert Stuart

THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE
by John Trumbull

(That's John Adams in the center of the painting,

which is exactly where he should be!

Click on image to enlarge)

"And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."

Thus concludes our Declaration, and begins our American story. Want to know the details of how it was written? Revised? If you missed the HBO series JOHN ADAMS last year, find it and get ready for American history to come to life before you. If videos are not your cup of tea, then read the book on which it is based, David McCullough's JOHN ADAMS. McCullough makes clear the fact that when our founding fathers made that final pledge, it was not just a manner of speaking: "What was the source of their courage? Who were those people? I don't think think we can ever know enough about them." One of his primary sources for this book were the letters exchanged between Abigail and John Adams. What a life these two shared! And, what a life they helped shape for generations to follow.

"The Revolution was in the minds and hearts of the people."

John Adams

Have a glorious 4th of July!

Pray for peace.

Four hundred years from now...

2009-07-02T01:15:00.001-05:00

Photo used by permission of Virginia Jones of

http://birminghamalabamadailyphoto.blogspot.com/

National Public Radio is conducting a survey in honor of the 4ooth anniversary of the publication of Shakespeare's sonnets. What lines from a love poem ...or song...or lines from fiction ...or even a film... do you believe will endure for the next four hundred years? They call this their "Summer of Love Survey." You can go to http://www.npr.org/ to offer your choice.

I once read that James Joyce's wife said to him, "Why don't you write something that people can read?" I guess she was not too fond of his distinctive stream of consciousness style in Finnegan's Wake and Ulysses

I hope she did get around to reading the short stories in The Dubliners.

"The Dead" is a bittersweet reflection on first love juxtaposed with the current disillusionment of a marriage which leads to a great epihany for the main character, Gabriel. These last two pragraphs of the story represent one of the most beautiful examples of modern prose written in English.

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from THE DUBLINERS by James Joyce

Generous tears filled Gabriel's eyes. He had never felt like that himself towards any woman but he knew that such a feeling must be love. The tears gathered more thickly in his eyes and in the partial darkness he imagined he saw the form of a young man standing under a dripping tree. Other forms were near. His soul had approached that region where dwell the vast hosts of the dead. He was conscious of, but could not apprehend, their wayward and flickering existence. His own identity was fading out into a gray, impalpable world: the solid world itself which these dead had one time reared and lived in was dissolving and dwindling.

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

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Let me know if what passage or poem or song, etc you might submit for the ages.

Mugs on Monday

2009-06-22T11:07:00.019-05:00

This was a Mother's Day gift this year from my older son and his wife. It is so full of whimsey! I am always saying , "Now when I have my sheep farm in the Dales...." I have been having my tea in it every morning this summer!

Let's just say I miss the tots who once drank from these!

Can you name some of the characters featured here?

These Lord & Lady Celtic mugs are the work of Pamela Kohler-Camp.

I discovered her several years ago at the Alabama Highland Games in Montgomery. Her studio, AND SARAH LAUGHED, is located at Stone Mountain Georgia. I really love her work.

Click on images to enlarge!

This is mug I use quite regularly. This series of mugs featured the names of the three Shakespeare plays of the repertory season. Turn the mug and you will see Love's Labour's Lost and The Merchant of Venice were the other two plays .

During the first twelve years of the ASF productions, a single mug was commissioned for each play. I did not get one for every play, but I think I may have a dozen of these. I regret that these do not include the year.
Can you name the plays?

I was fortunate enough to visit the Globe in London during the summer of 2000. I was always sorry I did not get a mug. Several years later, my younger son was there and knew exactly what to bring home to his English teacher mom. Study the image? Can you name the play?

During the summer of 1989, I participated in an NEH seminar taught at Oxford. As part of the course we would travel to significant locations related to the writer and his works which we had studied during the week.
I purchased two of these: one for me and one for a dear friend and colleague who had done his doctoral dissertation on this writer.
This mug had been designed and produced for a big event which had been held in the town during the previous summer.
Can you guess the purpose of the event? Or can you name the chapel and town featured on the other side of the mug?

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I am not sure I understand this meme business for Mug Monday. Am I to feature another mug next Monday? Or was this a one week event? Willow? Acorn Moon, or Weaver of Grass? Help me out.