A Weekend Away!

There was honey on my breakfast toast this morning thanks to son-in-law Rick Eiler’s first honey harvest from  his two bee hives on a friend’s farm land.  If I am not mistaken, the last time we traveled the length of Illinois to see Jeannie’s family was for Showtime during Elijah’s senior year at Freeport High School.  It was wonderful to have the opportunity to visit there this past weekend. 

Katherine’s friend Laura was with her, so I did not worry about Kate.  Granddaughter Leslie came up from Nashville Thursday night; and she had invited us to go on up with her, so I did not need to be concerned about Gerald driving that entire way.  We had missed Cecelie’s freshmen participation in last year’s musical, play, and Showtime, so to go see her in this year’s musical was a dream come true as we hurriedly packed and left the farm mid-morning Friday.

Leslie is always delightful company—funny and bright and so pretty. Unfortunately we did not get to hear her sing during this visit, and we should have insisted on it.  But there was much to talk about.  Her husband Mike stayed home with Millie and Sidney—their huge dogs that  don’t travel that well--but we caught up on the news about them as well as Mike. 

Mike is a personal trainer, and proof of his ability has been seeing our little Leslie become a champion strong woman competitor.  (Is that the right wording?)  We really did not know there was such a thing or such contests, but now we regularly see photos of Leslie lifting huge bars into the air while we tremble.  And we see Mike pulling trucks and other outrageous objects with Les in the background of the video being his cheerleader urging him on.  Scary stuff to watch, but we have to be proud that they somehow have achieved that strength in addition to holding full-time jobs, an active social life,  and fixing up their first home. And now to my great satisfaction, Leslie has renewed her high school theater career-- as an extra curriculum activity in the evenings. I love knowing she is singing and acting again.  That was not possible as a commercial voice major at Belmont with all the required concerts to complete that degree. She is rehearsing now for Ragtime in January.

On our way north, we stopped at Illinois State in Normal to pick up Elijah who had driven there from Jacksonville.  He is a senior studying special education for the seeing impaired, but his classes at Normal are over.He spent the first six weeks of this semester at Indianapolis at  the Indiana School for the Blind and Visually Impaired. Now he is rooming in a dorm at Jacksonville, but each morning he drives to Springfield where he teaches individual students with sight impairment at four different schools.  Next semester he will be doing his official student teaching at a Chicago school, so I am especially eager to hear him tell of those experiences.  I think he enjoyed being on campus long enough for coffee with a friend while he awaited us to arrive from downstate.

Soon we were on that long long stretch of Route 39 and 51 heading toward Rockford.  It was good to once more see the familiar sights along the streets of Freeport, and soon we were welcomed into Jeannie and Rick’s house where there was a fire blazing  for us in the living room.  We dropped off Lige and Les and  made a quick trip to our favorite motel to dress for Cecelie’s musical and then returned to be at  Jeannie’s pretty table for chili and goodies before we headed to the Jeannette Lloyd Theatre, another favorite place for our family. 

For twenty-five years Tim Connors has devoted his life to the kids at Freeport High.  He has developed a fantastic speech program and manages to get amazing results from the large casts he works with. Kids working together to create a successful performance is an enormously valuable life experience. That bonding and the artistic opportunity given to such large crews and casts of students are of immense importance to their community.  

Jeannette Lloyd obviously created an educational environment conducive to developing individual talent and superior high school theater, and Connors has continued the tradition of excellence. When I see the stage filled with guys singing and dancing their hearts out, I not only feel personal joy as I listen and watch as  crowds of girls run in to join them, but  I also know lives have been made richer because of those weeks spent producing the show.

I had never bothered to watch John Travolta’s Grease, so I was unfamiliar with the plot.  Since the time depicted was not that long after I had been in high school, I was taken down memory lane.  Cecelie’s sweet tiny neck scarf was the kind I wore most days; and  although I did not have a poodle dog skirt, I envied the girls who did.

In Cecelie’s role as Marty, her emotional excitement and dramatic exaggerated take on life often duplicated the drama my girl friends and I liked to imagine we were starring in.  Of course, I loved her song. I wanted to slap Marty and Rizzo sometimes for their meaness, and I wanted to shake Frenchy and tell her to get busy and study.  Going from childhood into near adulthood can be a difficult time, and these kids in the Grease  sub culture suffered perhaps more than other groups.  I did not like beautiful Sandy, so well played by Veronica Gross, changing because of peer pressure.  But I would like it if today’s kids used a wooden gun made in shop rather than a real one. 

Brianna was arriving after the show to join her cousins at the Eilers.  She had come home from Murray State and joined her daddy for the trip up to his brother’s, where he annually attends an auction fund-raiser.  She drove on in to Freeport to attend Saturday’s performance.  Mary Ellen and Trent stayed home because of a trivia contest they were involved in. We waited to see Bri the next day because we were on a mission for a forgotten toothbrush and special cleanser. We were in bed by eleven and slept late the next morning. 

Jeannie invited us for a breakfast casserole and a yummy coffee cake at their house, but we like poking around and eating at the motel’s big breakast available whenever you want to go the dining room.  Of course when we showed up at Jeannie’s for lunch I sampled the casserole, and I indulged in the coffee cake for lunch and supper dessert instead of the pies on her buffet.

Our Saturday morning schedule was to watch Rick extract more honey from the comb.   We had already observed on Friday  the abundance of little bears and the traditional almost oval plastic bottles filled with golden liquid, and Rick was going to work up yet another batch or two in his garage turned honey workshop.  It was fascinating as he explained the process of scraping the excess wax off the racks of goodness and  carefully placed into his stainless containers to spin the honey out.  There were several steps as we watched the liquid go from the bucket of raw honey to the lovely pure liquid in the plastic bottles. We were given a generous supply of to take home.

After lunch, Jeannie and I left the men  and  went on errands including a couple of trips to the beautiful flower shop on the edge of town where Jeannie was having a presentation bouquet prepared for Cecelie. Leslie was lunching with a high school friend to see her new baby, and Brianna and Elijah were studying together for their respective Monday morning classes.  Our main goal was to see the special thrift store that Cecelie works at and to pick her up at the end of her time there. We hid her flowers in the van and took her home to join her cousins. 

Although Cecelie and her date and some adult friends were coming to the Eilers after the show, Jeannie had a couple large cans of cheese and a crock pot needing to be sent to her friend’s house for the cast party that night.  She enlisted Elijah to deliver them since he is close friends to the two daughters there. That led to the rest of the days’ entertainment because the mother of the house suggested Elijah kidnap his long-time classmate’s tiny stuffed monkey left over from her childhood.

There was much intrigue at the Eiler house as ransom notes were written and Brianna’s unknown phone was used in various communications to Fred-the-Monkey’s mama. While we adults were eating a calm supper, Fred was off with the younger ones having his photo taken at various places at the high school.  At one time he was hanging center stage high on the overhead electric sign Grease.  I think common sense told them that maybe Connors would not enjoy that addition to the set, and they took Fred down. But the photo was funny.

Gerald usually only goes to one performance per trip to Freeport, but I love to see the second (or third when that is possible) and observe and enjoy the difference in audiences and kids’ reactions. The last night is usually charged with a mixture of satisfaction and sadness that makes that performance special.  That was true Saturday night when I went again while Gerald stayed home and watched the football game. Afterwards during  the time between the end of the play and the cast photos, I love seeing the kids still in costume receiving flowers, congratulations, and compliments. They completely fill the crowded hallway with their  parents and siblings and buddies. Alumni from  previous years are also there to give them greetings and hugs and report on college and work.

After the show the college set were out for pizza and Laurel was reunited with Fred. At the pizza gathering or else some where else, Leslie and other theater alums were presenting Connors with a cake in the shape of a juke box. It was quite a cake from the photos shared, and the crowd encircling him and leaning on the table and accidentally breaking it down made the cake presentation quite memorable I am sure.

By Saturday evening, the ground was covered with several inches of snow and everything was slick. I was being extremely careful that I did not fall, and I had Rick drop me off after the show rather than going to the after-event at their house.  The next morning we all met up again at the Eiler house in a winter scene straight from a Christmas card. Cars were covered with snow, and as we waited for church time, Gerald swept the snow off the others’ car as he had ours earlier at the motel.  We were worried about the highways, and Brianna must drive part of the way home alone before she picked up Brian down the road.  So she went on and we were grateful to the crews when we found the roads well salted and free of ice. After worship we headed back to Southern Illinois although we would have liked to have stayed for the Bible class Rick would be teaching before noon. If at all possible, Leslie planned to pick up her car at Woodsong and drive onto Nashville so she would not miss work Monday morning.

On the way home, we lunched at Culver’s, a favorite eating place for all Freeport people.  We dropped Elijah off at Normal, where he would drive onto Jacksonville, and we continued over to Champaine-Urbana and on down Route 57 to home.  Although we drove through almost continual mist, some rain, lots of fog, the highways were clear as we kept ahead of the worsening weather. 

At Woodsong the ground was covered with white loveliness, and again Gerald cleared snow this time from Leslie’s car waiting on her. She reached Nashville and was at work Monday morning.  Brianna stayed at their farm that night and made it safely to Murray the next morning. 

Our weekend with its long delayed trip to Freeport  was a much needed break from routine. Thankfully everybody made it safely back home without an accident including Fred.

Busy. Busy.

The martins are back to their apartment houses Gerald had all ready for them. As they create their nests and prepare to please us with a new generation, they are busy swooping and twirping and twittering . I am happy the barn swallows are back dirtying up our front porch with their annual mud and straw nest there. I cut dead branches off the rose bushes, which seemed to tall up over night and are green and healthy after their winter sleep.

Neighbors and our son-in-law are all busy getting ready for planting. Gerald has been tied up trying to get the sprayer he is modifying for Scott just right. He keeps redoing it but believes he has it correct now, so he repainted it and took it back down to Scott yesterday afternoon.

Friends and family are out on the lake fishing, and Gerald has planted the first of his garden after Scott tilled it. I urge him to make it small this year. I wonder if he will listen.

My spring took an unexpected turn when a reporter mentioned that I was looking for a photograph of Priscilla the Hollyhock Girl. Betty Baker read the story and dug into her box of ancient family photos to find a group picture of the Harrison family, which included Priscilla who had taken care of little orphan Laura Annear at the Silkwood Inn.

After the Silkwoods’ deaths, it was arranged for Priscilla to live with Laura, who was now married to Isham Harrison, the executor of Silkwood’s estate. (One of the tidbits I have learned is that the name Isham has a silent “h,” and the older generation pronounced it Isom. Proof of this is his son’s funeral notice, which Betty also shared that has the father’s named misspelled just as the local folks pronounced it.)

The photo of Priscilla is not as clear as we would like, but it is extremely significant that she is included in this family picture, which gives evidence that she was considered a family member. The picture was passed down to Betty by her grandmother, Effie Harrison Snyder Penrod, who looks about five in the photo. Effie was rocked by Priscilla just as Laura had been at Silkwood Inn.

I have had emails and phone calls from several who have their own Priscilla or hollyhock story to tell me. That has been delightful, but time consuming. I have talked by phone to two women over ninety years old, and on Wednesday I was able to interview Roma Craft at the Hurricane Memorial Assisted Living facility. It was an exciting interview, and Richard Kuenneke was there to make an audio recording of the visit.

Consequently, I still have one more flower bed to clean out a bit, and books I’d planned to read have been neglected while I have reread one book and perused numerous articles and notes refreshing my memory on various facts and legends.

Nevertheless, we still have taken time to watch softball games on game tracker often. Last night we were able to watch Erin on ESPN when Texas A&M played University of Texas. Today they were back on game tracker as they played a make-up game against Baylor. We had seriously talked of going to Arkansas to see University of Georgia play, but the weather predictions made us change those plans. Yesterday’s games were postponed, and they played a double header today. Our friend Bobby in Texas phoned rejoicing for all that rain down south.

Next weekend will be conference tournaments for both “our” teams. We want to be in both Knoxville and Oklahoma City, but are planning on going to Oklahoma since this is Erin’s last year and Gerry’s team can be watched next year. Our grandson Elijah is playing the role of Eugene in Brighton Beach Memoirs up at Freeport High School next weekend also, and I guess I have to face the fact that we cannot be there and Oklahoma at the same time. I like to be busy—but I wish things were spread out without conflicts, so we could do everything. Ah well.

A Blessed Easter at Woodsong

After a leisurely breakfast with the newspaper, we went to our village church to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus.

Our three little ones in our preschool classroom looked adorable. Wearing pink with ruffles and lace, Miranda explained, “Grandma made my dress.” When Miss Kim took pictures, we knew we were not the first to admire these children today, because one-year-old Caleb without prompting posed and said clearly, “Cheese!” Bobby, looking sharp in dress pants and matching vest, was all excited that Grandpa was coming to dinner. The Easter card he made was to be for his daddy and grandpa.

In the service after Bible study, many had visiting family members with them to worship as a family on this special day. Our oldest member, Zella Cain had family members filling two entire rows. And that was only half of her family, she told us. We sang, “Up From the Grave He Arose” and other traditional hymns. Deanna Odom had a special reading for us, and we sang “Happy Birthday” to Dewayne Covey, who had been looking forward to this tradition, and he had visiting cousins and aunts and uncles there to participate.

Our beloved interim pastor had a second sermon prepared—he and several had gathered earlier at the church for the sunrise service and breakfast that Gerald and I seldom make. In the early years, I would have been out on the lawn hiding eggs and candies in our children’s nests they made on Saturday—just the way my mother was taught to do as a child. Then when our children took over the nest filling for their children, I would be in the kitchen preparing the ham and lunch for the bunch when we came home from church.

Today was different. For the first time in our 52 years of marriage, I did not dye Easter eggs. For the first time in decades, I did not cook Easter dinner. For the first time in several years, most of our children and grandchildren could not be with us. Yet it has been a special and blessed Easter.

We arrived back in Marion last evening from our trip to visit daughter Jeannie’s family and see Elijah and Cecelie participate in the 29th annual Showtime at Freeport High School. Before we refilled the gas tank and I ran inside Kroger’s to get fresh fruit and milk, Katherine phoned and said, “Mom, David has arranged to pick up a prepared Easter dinner for all of us, and we will bring it out to the farm tomorrow. There will be plenty for Mary Ellen’s family too if they are able to make it.”

We took Samuel on home as he was eager to check out the Easter egg doings at Josh’s house—his buddy just behind the park and their house. Sam carried in a large portion of the colored eggs that he had helped dye at the Eiler house and his Aunt Jeannie had sent home with him. So they became part of our dinner today.

He even was invited to participate in the dyeing session going on at my brother’s home when we stopped at Mattoon for a break. Jim’s wife Vivian, who always remembered her grandmother’s huge dishpan full of colored eggs for her many grandchildren, has always tried to approach that sense of bounty for her kids and grandkids. She and her sister Jo, who had arrived from Chicago by train the day before, were laughing and working with a dozen of so cups of color on the large dining table and assisted by my niece Judi getting ready for the egg hunt at their house today. When Sam unobtrusively took a wax crayon from the kit and put a star on an egg, his mother’s cousin Judi had a moment of wonder and confusion when she took a green egg out and unexpectedly saw a star on it.

So after we dropped Sam off at his house, we returned to shop for the few needed items. With the delightful surprise and neat gift for the next day arranged by our son-in-law, I did not even think about what I might need to buy to go with the little half ham I had stowed in the fridge for Katherine’s family and also Mary Ellen’s family if they were able to come down from Lake Saint Louis. I knew Easter dinner would be scant in comparison to some past feasts, but I also knew my children would understand.

David works extraordinary hours already both at the plant and at home helping care for Katherine and Sam, and that he would go to the work and trouble to arrange to bring an entire holiday dinner out to the farm was very touching—and absolutely lovely. When I phoned her an invitation, we found out that Mary Ellen’s family had gone to Springfield—she had known we might not even get back from Freeport for Easter.

So I took the usual leaves out of the dining room table. With Sam’s friend Josh added as a guest, we had six present. Thus, I was able to use the white china with pink roses that I bought long ago at the thrift store when our family had only six members, and the light green cloth that usually only fits the kitchen table. The green stemmed glasses (also from the thrift store) made a pretty table with lilacs and white tulips for the centerpiece.

While the men talked and rested, Katherine and I looked at photo books and enjoyed seeing Tara, Erin, and Leslie as tiny ones. Sam and Josh went looking for minnows and rode the “mule” and played with Scooter and whatever boys do outside.

All too soon the Cedars had to go back home, and Gerald and I were alone again at Woodsong after the flurry of weekend activity. We enjoyed ham sandwiches and reflecting on the day.

We knew from Facebook that Leslie, who’d been in Freeport for the weekend, had succeeded in getting her first car yesterday and was driving it back to Belmont. Tomorrow she finds out about her summer job. Gerry had been off work from recruiting and had been able to go to church with Vickie and Geri Ann at Athens. Like Gerald, I am sure they were in touch with Erin down at College Station and with Tara’s family in northern Illinois, who celebrated with Bryan’s family this weekend. We were still enjoying Gerry’s proud accounts of Erin’s winning home run on Friday and A&M’s second victory against Texas Tech yesterday. And the Georgia Dogs won all three games against Ole Miss this weekend despite rainy weather and lightning delays.

We know that softball is fun and despite its importance to our family, it is not that important in the grand scheme of things. We know that every one of our family members have challenges and concerns—some of which cause us to live life with broken hearts. We know that many good people are out of work in our state, and they didn’t sit down to ham and all the good food that David carried in. We remembered the poignant presentation of world hunger that we saw at Freeport’s Showtime. We know that they are still pirates and thugs and terrorists in the world despite our rejoicing at the captain’s release. We are grateful for a living God who is willing to help us through the struggles here on earth.

Everyone is Home Tonight--for Now

Well, everyone is back to their individual homes, and I am back on my blogging schedule while things are calm again. Because Gerry and Erin both had at-home games today, they got to stay there. I was in meetings at their game times, so I didn’t get to watch on the computer but Gerald did. He even had to fix his own supper. I think Erin and Gerry will be playing at home Friday and Saturday also. Both are free on Easter Sunday.

Leslie, however, will be arriving in Freeport tomorrow night from Belmont for the weekend, and we have reservations there for the next two nights. We are really excited about getting to see Cecelie and Elijah on Friday night in the annual extravaganza Showtime that knocks me off my seat and up on my feet every year. This is Cecelie’s first show since the grade school kids don’t always participate. For Elijah, it is his second year, and I am very eager to see him and the other talented crew since I had to miss his fall play.

I spent this morning looking at old 19th century photographs loaned to me by Betty Baker. I visited her yesterday afternoon after I had spent an hour on the phone interviewing 92-year-old Nola Hertel that Betty had connected me with.
At Betty’s, I heard more family stories and then was entrusted with the photos of the Isham and Laura (Annear) Harrison family of Mulkeytown, who were so important to Priscilla the Hollyhock Girl rescued off the Trail of Tears by Brazilla Silkwood. Priscilla spent the last 16 year of her life living with this family.

My morning was short today because I slept late after staying up late last night sorting and studying these Harrison family photos that Betty inherited from her grandmother Myrtle Snider Browning Penrod. Working with the photos at the dining room table, I was able to get noon dinner on the table for Gerald and me.

Then I shared the photos and information with two other folks this afternoon and evening, attended two back-to-back meetings at church, and in-between activities I got to pick up Sam and his trombone after jazz band practice and then visit with his mother Katherine awhile. She is excited about his upcoming concert next week with the high school band, so maybe I will finally get to hear this group that recently received a superior rating at contest.

Oh and I visited with Scooter, Sam’s dog, too. I forgot to put my large over-the-shoulder bag up when I entered the house, and Scooter rapidly found it and started scattering coins and stuff across the floor. I understand that when he escapes the front door, he gives everyone merry chases in the park next door. Yesterday it took their big dog Lucy, the golden doodle, to chase Scooter down and stop him until he had his lease on again. Today he scared Sam when he ran in front of a motorcycle driving through the park. I am sure he scared that driver too. Scooter is one of those little dogs who just seems to be everywhere. He is an adorable fluffy white puppy, and we can’t help but forgive him for his mischief.

Spring Is Blossoming Out All Over

Last Friday night, the first day of Spring, Gerald and I experienced the awakening as we drove down to Union County amid the white blossoming pear trees, tulip trees already shedding their pink blossoms, yellow forsythia, and golden daffodils in yards and roadsides.

We went early to have time before we met his brothers and wives, so he could take me up to Hamburg Hill again in Shawnee National Forest. I had taken the wrong turn with Samuel the week before and missed it. I wondered if it were a good thing. When Gerald and I went up, I knew I had been fortunate to miss the right road. The road was rough and I think if I had gotten as far as Hamburg, I might have been foolish enough to try to drive to the top of Atwood Hill, where the fire tower was. Gerald started also but soon turned around in a road so narrow that I closed my eyes and clinched my fists—even though I knew with my mind that he would make the turn safely. Somehow my stomach did not know this.

Although the grass was greening, the forest itself was still stark trees with leafless limbs—still beautiful in their abundance up and down the steep hills, but not yet breathtaking as they will be when the leaves come back. We were looking for the cut in the forest where the old road used to go. We did find the cut and the pioneer cemetery. We then explored another narrow road through the forest to the top of the hill, where other explorers had left behind their beer cans and trash. There was plenty of turn around room here, and after walking around a bit, we headed on to Fox Hollow for fish with the brothers and sisters-in-law.

This is definitely the time for seeing the countryside. Each day is greener and different as new plants come from the ground. I was able to carry in sweet-smelling hyacinths for the women from church who gathered at our house on Monday evening. I only picked two for each table because it was Gerald’s bulb garden he planted last year, and I did not want to have it too barren when he returns from his birthday trip to Georgia.

I had forgotten he had planted one yellow and one white daffodil there, so I was richer in daffodils than I thought. Each plant had three blossoms, and I picked one yellow and one white to stick in a tall narrow vase. I resisted the urge to pick a fifth hyacinth to go with the two daffodils for a table in the living room.

I had put out the elaborately painted eggs that my friend Jane Perr made years ago. She had learned the craft from an elderly gentleman from the Russian Orthodox Church in Royalton. So I invited Jane down to our meeting, so she could see I was still enjoying her beautiful eggs. She surprised me by bringing me another beautiful egg in its own little holder and also a purple hyacinth that completed the daffodils just the way I wanted the vase to look.

Today after eight hours sleep, I came out of my bedroom at 10 a.m. with the idea I’d walk down the lane to the mail box to get the newspaper that Gerald always walks down for at 6 or 7 a.m. I was somewhat startled to see daughter Jeannie walking out of the other bedroom.

“When did you get here?” I queried. “I figured you’d be driving back today. How did you get in the house?”

Evidently shortly after I went to bed at 2 a.m., Jeannie and Cecelie had arrived from Nashville to our dark house. When we built this house, we gave each of our children a key, but no one seems to remember that they have one. We, of course, leave the door open for them when we know they are coming. Fortunately, one of Jeannie’s kids had found her key and wanted to know what to do with and she had told them to put it in the van. So they had let themselves in and we all slept peacefully, and I got a report on her visit with Leslie as we ate a bite of breakfast.

Much too soon, we had a late lunch and she and Cecelie were off to Freeport although they planned a drop-in visit with her sister Katherine in town before they got back on I-57 to head home.

Cecelie had enjoyed a piece of left-over angel food cake from our women’s meeting, and I put another in a plastic bag for her to take on her trip–along with the left-over chocolate eggs that I knew I should not eat.

As I followed them outside to wave reluctant goodbyes, our eyes focused on the ornamental tree in the driveway’s circle, which is just starting to bloom. Jeannie commented on how she enjoyed our spring down here and in Nashville knowing it will still be three or four weeks before the trees blossom up north. So she will do spring twice.

When Gerald phoned later, he told me that it was chilly in Georgia. Nevertheless, he and Vickie and her mother Shirley, Geri Ann, Tara, Aidan, and baby Maddux were all heading out to the softball stadium at the University of Georgia to support Gerry and the Dogs, now ranked 7th in the nation again. They were to play Mercer. I read tonight it had rained but didn’t rain the game out, which was good since we won.

However, the inclement weather at Waco did cause a postponement of the A&M game with Baylor until April 29. I had to laugh when Erin blogged about the tailgate party last Saturday night for the team, friends, family, staff, and Sugar Daddies. The Broussard family had generously supplied an abundant supply of crawfish. Erin had to fess up, that as an out-of-state girl without crawfish in her menu background, she was grateful for the table laden with desserts.

Since Gerald took the car on his trip, I drove the pickup over to a small-group meeting at our village church. I stopped at the end of the lane and finally picked up this morning’s newspaper.

Where Is It? Let's See Now

Mary Ellen called from up the road apiece on Friday that they had discovered the controller for the TV in the den was accidentally in their basket of games picked up just before they left our place to head to their other family’s home. Should they return it? Naw, just wait until Christmas when you come down. They can also then retrieve Trent's black left-foot shoe (a thong it is too cold to wear often now). Later Mary Ellen reports that Elijah’s coat was left in their camper. Brianna’s coat, however, was left at Geri Ann’s Grandma Shirley’s house.

Leslie and Gerald assured me that Erin’s winter A&M jacket was left behind at Woodsong deliberately because she won’t need it down there until she is back for Christmas break. So it is in the coat closet waiting for her. Geri Ann’s charger for her I pod is ready to be taken to the post office. Trent’s Nintendo is on the table in the den. Jeannie left behind ingredients she brought down for a cooking project she started but didn’t get to finish. Someone’s electric toothbrush is still in the guest bathroom. I recovered my purple comb from Katherine’s vanity yesterday, where evidently someone must have been primping with it there.

Katherine got tickled thinking that all over America, families are trying to find and retrieve and figure out where their possessions are after all the Thanksgiving holidays. Most families in our area try to visit both sides of their families, and it is a challenge to keep belongings under control.

I used to marvel many years ago at the goodness and the energy used when my daughter-in-law would bring her little ones to my parents’ home in Goreville and then hurry on to another Christmas Eve gathering at her grandparents. The next day after she and Gerry observed Christmas morning at their house, they would come to ours for Christmas dinner and then onto her folks’ home for yet another dinner.

After the grandparents no longer had their observances on Christmas Eve, life did temporarily get simpler. However, now Gerry and Vickie are in far-off Georgia. Tara, their oldest, is in Aurora far north of us. We are all eagerly awaiting the birth of Tara and Bryan’s second son any day now, so holiday celebrations are definitely complicated. We will welcome whoever is able to show up before, on, or after Christmas.

Jeannie and Rick are entertaining his family at their house for the first time this year, so they won’t be down from Freeport either. She’ll experience left-behind objects at her house no doubt.

We received our first Christmas card on Saturday from cousin Valerie, who wins that contest every year. Our second card came today. I better start thinking about mine. When we can’t get together with friends and family at this time of year, it is lovely to connect by mail. And belongings stay in their rightful place when we visit by that method.

Playing and Cluttering at Grandmother’s House

Driving home from the exciting program that novelist Laura Benedict presented for Southern Illinois Writers Guild tonight, it occurred to me that last night was Wednesday night and I had forgotten to write in Woodsong Notes.

After a fun flurry of company from Wednesday through Sunday, I guess I just forgot last night was Wednesday night. I was concentrating on getting ready for tonight’s meeting and had also been busy catching up on life’s details.

After a visit from the grandchildren, life’s details increase. I clearly heard Jeannie explain to her 9-year-old to pick up before they left for their seven-hour trip back to Freeport. However, there had also been a 17, 15, 13, and 11 year old here; and with all their activity, there was much too much for her to put away.

I really don’t care. I completely understand that there is no time to put stuff away as we stop the kids from one activity to scurry them onto a movie or whatever is planned next. Parents say it is time to go, and kids have to go. Often the grandkids want to return to some unfinished project later, and stuff needs to be left out.

Frankly, I like to see that the kids have gotten into to closet for old clothes (“costumes”) that I keep for them in the den. (Now that most of the grandkids are teens, I’ve changed the name of “their” room from “art room” to den.) The little plastic chairs they used to sit on are still there for Aidan and future great grandchildren. And I started shopping before Easter for another couch so I could move an old one in there for the teens, but I got busy with other things and never completed that shopping task. It is on my summer to-do list.

Despite the change in name, the den with its beat-up table still sees lots of art projects carried out. I love it when I see the children working with all the scraps, ephemera., crayons, and papers that I keep for art supplies. Often they are using every minute they have to write a book or create a game with so many pieces that, of course, they will leave behind a lot of discarded junk. I have to admit that I would rather see them their limited time here working and creating than cleaning up. (Let’s admit it. Cleaning up has never been one of my favorite things to do, so why should I want grandchildren spending their precious time together doing clean up.)

I know it is good training for them to put all the colors back in box, and I really do want lids put back on magic markers. Since I delight in keeping things from years ago, I definitely want materials treated well. Children need to learn to be neat and to be responsible. I know all that and believe all that.

But I figure one of the joys of being a grandparent is that I can let their parents teach them all those good things. Not that I don’t appreciate it when the grandchildren neaten the rooms. Nevertheless, I really don’t mind doing part of that decluttering myself as I think about the fun they have had and the occasional glimpses I’ve been able to enjoy as they have used their imaginations acting, drawing, writing, and creating.

The collection of hats is now returned to the large leather hat carrier I once bought at a garage sale. The assortment of clothes (some their parents used to wear in the “old days”)has been gathered up and carried to the den. Maybe tomorrow I’ll hang them back in the closet so they can find them next time they come and need to put on a play or make up a story glorified by a costume. I’ll be smiling when I do thinking of the children I love.

I am also smiling because we had two high school freshmen in attendance at Writers Guild tonight. Both girls from local high schools miles apart are already busily writing fantasy, and both girls had a parent attentive enough to their daughters’ talents that they were willing to use expensive gas money to bring their daughter to hear Laura Benedict.

Oklahoma Bound!

We were supposed to leave right before lunch, but Gerald and our neighbor are still working on a tractor problem caused when parts for two tractors did not work on both as the salesman, who looked the part numbers up on the computer , said they would . So they are still not back from Sikeston—where they were getting new wheels or something. I hate it that Gerald will be driving late tonight.

We are going to see Erin play at the World Series and we are excited. I think Gerry’s family has probably already left. Mary Ellen and Brianna will be driving out tomorrow. Tara, Bryan, and Aidan will be driving after he gets off work Thursday night. On Saturday we will celebrate Aidan’s second birthday. (And it is also Bryan’s birthday.) Monday is Mary Ellen’s birthday. So it is going to be an exciting time.

Then we are going to Amarillo to see my sister and husband. The only fly in the ointment is missing granddaughter Leslie’s graduation festivities in Freeport. We want to do more things than we can do. I remember years ago reading an article discussing the pros and cons of big families versus small families. The writer pointed out that those with larger families have both more joys and more sorrows. That has certainly proved to be true. I realize our family is not nearly as large as many, but I still keep fully scheduled, and sometimes want to be in two places at once.. I always wondered how my cousins Kathie and Dot did so well with their families. And they are still keeping up with all of them!

How Green Are My Valleys, Hills, and Lawn

Wherever we look out-of-doors right now, we see green. Gerald says the intense green we are enjoying is partly the result of the nitrogen in the late winter’s snows and rains. As tired as we are of rain, it is pleasant to think of the benefits.

Earthquakes have been the topic of much conversation in our area lately. I felt the first one at 4:38 last Friday morning, and I learned later I had done the correct thing by staying in bed. I was too sleepy to do anything else. Although there have been several, I have not felt the after shocks since. I was in the laundry room at my daughter’s when the second shake came. She was in adjoining room and felt it. I guess I assumed it was the washer-dryer shaking the house and did not notice it.

I learned at our women’s meeting at Shirley Butler’s on Monday that some of our Coal Valley Water customers had been without water since last Friday. Shirley had seen and heard the repair work going on near her home the previous evening, so her first reaction to the quake was thinking it was the water department still working.

Unfortunately, the quake evidently made the water problems intensify in that region of our water district. (We seem to have been immune to the problems here on the west side of the district.) Workers are trying hard to get all the breakages fixed. Most people had water back on fairly quickly, but not all. Some people are going to friends and relatives to take showers.

When the water was turned on for our friend Jo, the pressure was so great that it broke the pipes beneath her house. She was blessed to have her son Scott willing and able to crawl under the house and repair the messy muddy leak there. Next door, Kim said when she ran her washer, the pressure causes huge scary noises making her hope their pipes don’t break. Scott isn’t eager to do a second repair job.

Our son-in-law was down over the weekend and early part of this week to start farming. The tiling job last fall was a real help this spring when these heavy rains came. Brian joined us for supper Friday night when our granddaughter Leslie and friend Veronica Tolbert from Freeport stopped off on their way down to Nashville, Tennessee, to visit the national college speech events being held there on Saturday. We didn’t get the return trip stop because there was a boyfriend waiting in Charleston. Ah well.

Our big weekend entertainment was listening to Texas A&M’s two home games. We did the same tonight when they played a non-conference game against Texas State. What a night freshman pitcher Rhiannon Kliesing had. After a week off the mound, she pitched her first no-hitter of the season, and despite no recent opportunities to bat, she made her first home run of the season.

It is pitch dark outside. After this game, Gerald is out there mowing that intensely green grass. It is hard to keep up with right now, and he had to be away all day.

Eiler Grey and Troops

The family room is awash with electrical cords, guitars, and teenagers. I ought to have written on here on schedule Wednesday night--because I have had to wait my turn to use my computer today. (A computer is a necessity for today’s kids.) I accidently found myself on MySpace before I got on here.

Freeport High School’s yearbook, which just came out yesterday, is on the dining room table, and we‘ve been enjoying it. Suitcases and clothes are strewn in bedrooms. The piano is no longer longing for a pianist. Videos are being shot as speech kids do their thing. In other words, Woodsong is one cool place this hot summer weekend.

Jeannie, Leslie, Elijah and buddies Rachel, Chad, and Sam all arrived at 1:30 this morning. They had broken up their long trip down from Freeport by stopping at Charleston’s coffee house, so Leslie could sing at the open mic there.

At the moment, we all have on our black Eiler Grey T-shirts that Rachel designed for Leslie, who sings under the stage name Eiler Grey. Pretty soon we are heading to The Mix in Carterville, where Eiler Grey will be in concert tonight. (Tomorrow night will be at Common Grounds in Carbondale.) Jeannie is picking up Samuel. Aunt Vickie is dropping off Geri Ann and Allison as they travel back from Carbondale. I told Geri Ann if they want to spend night, we still have some couches and the floor available.

Teenagers are invigorating to me--their humor and energy are exciting and pleasing. I have always thought that if the energy in a high school hallway between classes could be bottled up, we could send half the population to the moon AND solve the world’s problems.

Gerald is engrossed keeping up with Gerry and the Southern Force’s 18-and-under girls softball team in Oklahoma City. Despite falling into the losers’ bracket fairly early on, Southern Force just keeps winning. (In a double elimination tourney, one more loss and we are out.) That will be the first thing I want to know when we get home from The Mix: did we win tonight?

Visiting Jeannie's Family at Freeport

Since Gerald had softball tournaments on his mind, he was quite agreeable when I casually noted that if I went home with the Eilers from Aidan's party, I could stay a week with them. Then he could come up as planned for Elijah's 8th grade graduation and pick me up. I kept meaning to call Jeannie and see how their schedule would be this last week of school. But last Thursday night, I fell asleep on the couch and failed to call her before their bedtime. With two working parents and three children in different school and numerous activities, their lives are incredibly busy, and I worried that one more person in the house could be the burden that broke the camel's schedule.

At this point I decided not to come up here, but a couple of things worked together to cause me to at least throw the idea out to Jeannie. We were set to leave in a hour or so to spend Friday night with the Taylors, when I finally reached Jeannie. Since I would be car-less, I knew I could not help with transportation, but I told her maybe I could help somehow while here. "Just come up and we'll have fun," she encouraged. And we have had.

After the parade, program, indoor picnic, straightening her art room for the next day by removing the now dried paper heads, and catch-up chores for Jeannie and Rick on Memorial Day, we were getting ready for bed and discussing the next day and week when Jeannie gasped and said, "Oh, I've not made arrangements for Cecelie's getting to school. Her baby sitter had to be out-of-town this week."

In the crowded over-full weekend busyness, it had slipped her mind. And there I was in Freeport delighted to be able to walk to and from school with one of the prettiest and sweetest blond second graders in the universe. Jeannie has a small picture in her home that says, "In all thy ways acknowledge him and he shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:6. Suddenly I felt directed and right where I was supposed to be.

The last two nights we have gone down to Freeport's majestic Masonic Temple for the area theatrical awards established by Dan Stevens of the local AdPix newspapers--Village Voices and Freeport Focus. With a theatre arts background himself, Stevens appreciates all the excellent directors in the local high schools here in Northwestern Illinois. He knows how much work and personal sacrifice such teachers make to see a play or musical to completion. He wanted something done for the theater students similar to conference all-star programs for athletes.

With the two-night donation of the Masonic Temple for rehearsal on Tuesday and the award show on Wednesday, Stevens was able to offer proscenium arch experience to some high school students who had only previously performed in a gymnasium, where probably only the first few rows of the audience saw much of their performance. Now here they were in costume and putting on an excerpt from their school's musical where John Philip Sousa,Elvis, and many other notables have performed. How in the world kids remembered lines from last fall is beyond my comprehension, but these players are extremely talented and versatile enough to do whatever is required of them.

I thoroughly enjoyed seeing my granddaughter Leslie rehearse on Tuesday and remembered again the fun we had last fall when ten cousins--counting Aidan--descended on her backstage after one performance. Then on Wednesday night we saw not only Freeport's scene from Pajama Game, but also EPC's (Eastland and Pearl City combined) Charlie Brown, Warren High School's excerpt from Seussical, Orangeville High School's from Hello Dolly, and Acquin High School's from Guys and Dolls . While the judges exited to decide which school received the 2007 traveling trophy, we saw a slide presentation of all the schools' year in theater.

The evening began with a recognition of all the directors from these six schools spreading across the stage and receiving a check for their school's program. A bright red cloth was pulled away to reveal a table full of trophies to be presented for various aspects of theatrical production as well as for individual performances. Recognition was given for make-up, lighting, costumes, an original play written by a local director, best special effect, best set design, and a Bright Star Award for a returning student.

Individual awards included male and female leads in musicals and plays and also male and female supporting roles in musicals and plays. This allowed 32 students to be highlighted with individual pictures in the beautiful program booklet, and each time the individual trophy was awarded, photos of all four of those particular nominees were on the large screen in front of us.

Other students were seen in the collection of play/musical photographs in the program booklets, but I hope we were all aware that many hard-working students weren't able to be recognized. Some danced, sang, and acted with great talent and enthusiasm in smaller parts and made the shows what they were, but their names were not the noticed ones except by their families, neighbors, and classmates. Other students climbed ladders, hammered boards, did make-up, and performed other work and often were not even seen by the audience. These are the students who really deserve praise.

Naturally I was pleased when Freeport won the traveling trophy, but I have to admit the biggest thrill for me was when Leslie was given the trophy for the Musical Female Lead. Although I had seen none of the other schools' musicals, I had to wish her nominated cohart Ryan Werntz had gotten the top male award because they played off each other so well.

I know how hard Leslie works, and I was delighted be there and see her receive this recognition of her work. Leslie acknowledges her talent is God-given, but I know that she has made every effort that her gift is not wasted. Her mother recognized that even as a toddler that Leslie would act out whatever she was telling about. As Jeannie heard her daughter singing, she recognized something very special, and she made sure this child lived in the midst of good music and videos and productions by talented performers.

I have to be grateful to the efforts of Jeannie's entire family for all the fun I am having in Freeport. For two evenings, schedules have necessarily focused on Leslie, but I have seen nothing but acceptance on her siblings' parts. But then they know their parents are equally committed to them and the development of their gifts. Frankly, I can barely wait to see Elijah walk the boards at Freeport High School next year.

Good to Be Home!

No matter how much I like to travel nor how much fun we have had, I always feel glad to be home again. Gerald feels the same way.

After a supper yesterday with our granddaughter Erin, her parents, and Geri Ann in South Bend, Indiana, Gerald and I set out for home. Although we had the thought that we would stop and get a motel room if we got too sleepy, I was not surprised that Gerald just kept driving and we ended up at Woodsong shortly after midnight. I was worn out and had not driven a mile, but Gerald seemed to be going stronger each time we stopped for a rest stop.

On our trip up to Freeport to visit with our daughter Jeannie‘s family, Gerald's legs were growing cramped from driving. We impulsively pulled off Interstate 57 and stopped at Mattoon and ran by my brother’s Jim and wife Vivian’s house. I had thought we might stop on the way home, so I had grabbed a photograph for Jim off the dining room chair at Woodsong as we walked out. Gerald had made the photo of Jim’s Anna-Jonesboro Class of 1946 reunion from a clipping my friend Lois in California sent me from our hometown paper.

After a brief visit, we Jim and Vivian's house with me five books richer. Vivian, an avid reader, had a stack of books she had already read and was ready to give away. I also saw her latest quilt top--the 90th one she has made since retirement. I wonder how many books she has read in retirement. I talk about reading--but Vivian accomplishes it.

We checked into the motel near Jeannie’s home that allows us to have the grandkids come over and swim. Unexpectedly the motel was serving soup in their dining room that evening, which was the perfect supper for us since we had eaten a very late lunch at Urbana at the Red Lobster and were still full. We were invited for pizza at Jeannie’s but declined since the soup was so handy and we could use time to unpack and relax. Later Gerald took me over to the Eilers' house to go with them to the Thursday performance of Showtime--the musical extravaganza that Freeport High School puts on each spring. Gerald went back to the motel to rest. Showtime was spectacular and almost incredible to be produced by secondary students. After touring backstage, meeting the director, and congratulating Leslie and a few other cast members, the Eilers dropped me back at the motel for a night’s sleep.

Next morning Gerald was up bright and early although he had not gone to bed until after I got home from the musical. He had already eaten breakfast and been on a morning walk outside by the time he was back in our room polishing his shoes, and I woke up with the bed shaking from his vigorous rubbing of the shoes.

At our request, Jeannie dropped off Cecelie, so we could take her to school, and we thoroughly enjoyed that. Gerald got a picture of our little sweet second grader and her backpack.

Next, we ran over to Carl Sandburg School to see Jeannie’s great (huge) art room. I loved it because it had a concrete floor and looked like a very practical place for kids to do art without fear of upsetting someone by dropping a bit of paint somewhere. (I am always amazed at how many people fail to realize that having a shiny new immaculate art room with pressure to keep it that way destroys children’s creativity.) Of course, Jeannie’s posters urging children to feel free to make mistakes and to experiment re-enforced the creative environment.

After more rest, lunch at a favorite restaurant, and a nap, we were ready for Cecelie and Elijah’s arrival to swim until Rick took us all out to dinner. All except Leslie, who had already gone on to prepare for Showtime, of course. That evening, we saw another wonderful show, and I could tell from his laughter that Gerald enjoyed it as much as I did the night before.

After a brief visit back stage with Leslie and then with the Eilers at their house after the show, we hurried to bed so we could be up and on the road to Notre Dame early the next morning. Having frozen last fall up there and heard then how cold last spring’s softball games were, we were well equipped with blankets, jackets, coats, gloves, etc. However, the sun was blazing hot for the Saturday afternoon‘s double header with the Louisville Cardinals, and we were sunburned quickly. The cold-weather preparation was never taken from the car.

On Sunday after worship at Granger Missionary Church over the border in Michigan, we hurried to the ball field for another double header--this time with the South Florida Bulls. The weather was wonderful with a great breeze along with the sunshine. By this time, I had finally acquired a new supply of sunscreen for this summer, so the Saturday sunburn did not worsen.

After another supper with Erin and family, we were ready to head back to Southern Illinois. One aspect of coming home that I do not like is the re-orientation, which includes skimming the newspapers and collected mail and deleting all the junk emails and quickly trying to digest the important ones. One sign of the times is that we rarely have large numbers of messages on the telephone answering machine while we are gone. With cell phones and emails, we use the house phone less and less.