Wednesday, February 20, 2008

The Music of my Life

Some people are born with musical talent and others have a talent for listening and enjoying. I belong to the group that listens and enjoys when others use their talents to perform.


I attended an Atlanta Pops concert last night at Elba High School auditorium and loved every minute of it. They played music from the Oscars over the years and began with one of my favorites, Gone with the Wind. I just closed my eyes and Tara came alive! For two hours I sat and listened to all those memorable songs of the past and enjoyed them so much. The concert was part of the Coffee County Arts Alliance series. We're so fortunate to have groups come to our out-of-the-way part of the state to perform.


I suppose my music "career" began with piano lessons when I was in elementary school. One of our teachers, Mrs. Mary Ringsdorf, was our teacher. Since most of us didn't have pianos at home to practice, we were allowed to practice on the school piano in the music room at school at designated times during the week. I have short fingers and never could reach an octave on the piano and my fingers didn't want to move very fast either. And I have no rhythm or music talent. So most of my talent was in "music appreciation" and not producing music!


When I started to high school in Elba (10th grade) I wanted to play in the band. The new band director, Jimmy Patrenos, came to Elba that fall and when he arrived, his car broke down. Daddy was working at a garage in Elba that fall and repaired the new band director's car and wouldn't charge him anything. He told him that his daughter wanted to be in the band and maybe he could help her. Not many people owned their band instruments so they used the ones that belonged to the school.  He needed clarinet players and I thought                 
I'd like to learn to play a clarinet. I remember the old silver clarinet that had seen better days but he put a new reed in the mouth piece and played it and I was hooked. That's what I wanted to learn to play.


I took it home and practiced very hard and could hardly wait to play with the band. By the fall of 1953 I was in the Elba marching band! I worked my way up to 1st chair by the time I graduated from high school. We marched at ball games, in parades, and even went to the National Peanut Festival parade and a Blue/Gray football game parade in Montgomery. I loved being in the band. It was ok that I never became a concert pianist. I learned enough to play church hymns and I was satisfied with my piano career.


I joined the marching band when I started to Troy State Teachers College in the fall of 1952 and was assigned to play 2nd chair clarinet. I was so disappointed. I must admit the others were much better than I. After football season, the band members began to work on symponic music. Somehow this just wasn't the same and I dropped out of band when they required us to come to practice almost every night. The music majors loved getting together and practicing -- but not me. I enjoyed going to their concerts later and other concerts at the college.


Years went by and I went to hear many big symphonies and loved everyone of their performances. One of my favorites was attending the Boston Pops events one summer evening in Boston. Arthur Fiedler was the conductor and we were so excited to get tickets. But when we got there, they had a guest conducter I'd never heard of named John Williams. He was ok but I wanted to see Mr. Fiedler! Then soon after that, Fiedler retired and John Williams took over as conductor. And of course I have enjoyed the music of John Williams ever since.


Our sons have musical talent they inherited from their dad - who by the way loves to sing (tenor) and is in our church choir. He too loves to go to symphony concerts and loves classical and "elevator" music - songs we have enjoyed over the years. We bought an old piano when Bill was in the 2nd grade and he took piano lessons when we were living in Atlanta. Then we moved to Texas when he was in the 3rd grade and he continued taking piano lessons for awhile. He and Ronnie were both in the band during their school years and loved playing more than one instrument. Their taste for music is different from mine since they grew up during the 70's and rock and roll was becoming popular.


Our son James loves to play old records, along with Michael Jackson's CD's. He too loves music and sometimes wakes us up in the middle of the night with Michael Jackson singing "I'm Bad!" Or some of his Christmas music he plays throughout the year.


We love the old traditional hymns at church instead of contemporary or praise songs (often sung to taped music because the sheet music is not available). I'm so glad our Methodist church has not resorted to using taped music during the worship service. We have an organist and pianist who are both very talented. And we have a group of talented musicians whose voices blend well and I love to hear them sing. A very meaningful part of the worship service for me.


This isn't to say I don't enjoy singing what I call "campfire songs" at times other than during the worship service. Or that I don't enjoy some country and bluegrass music. I really like the Texas cowboy songs of the Gene Autry days. What I don't care for, or understand, are the contemporary songs that have no message for me, or melody, and you can't understand what they are saying. And as for rap music, that is just noise to me!

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Topo Gigio - Bill's favorite toy when he was 7

Recently I was watching some old TV shows and there was one with Ed Sullivan (remember him) and a little Italian mouse puppet named Topo Gigio that appeared on Ed's show many weeks. He was a shy little fellow and so lovable.



This post is written especially for our youngest son, Bill, who will recall this event in his life. He might even share it with his 3 teen aged daughters. I wonder if he's ever told them that he once had a pet mouse? Not real, of course.



In the summer of 1965 our son Bill, who was 7 years old, wanted a little mouse like Topo Gigio. I found the perfect little mouse, dressed in a leather vest and he even had whiskers. He was tiny and he could fit into Bill's pants pockets. Bill wanted to be a ventriloquist and would try to make Topo talk. He took Topo Gigio with him everywhere he went. One day about a year later, Topo had a terrible accident. He went into the washing machine in Bill's pocket and was washed in hot soapy water, rinsed and fell out of Bill's pocket when I removed his pants from the washer.

In the meantime there was a little rip in his back and his "insides" began to fall on the floor. He was stuffed with fine sawdust. You can imagine the mess! I tried to stuff him and sew him up but he just wasn't the same anymore. Instead of the happy, big eyed little mouse he suddenly looked very old and sad. He just passed away quietly and was laid to rest.



Later Bill wanted a dummy so he could practice being a ventriloquist. I ordered one for Christmas when he was about 8 or 9. They were not available so he got something else for Christmas that year. He never asked for one later.



I copied the following info from the internet about Topo Gigio. Topo Gigio - The cuddly little mouse puppet Topo Gigio, (a.k.a. "The Little Italian Mouse") was the creation of the troupe of puppeteers that debuted on CBS's THE ED SULLIVAN SHOW on April 14, 1963. Standing ten inches high and made of a half pound of foam rubber, Topo Gigio was controlled by sticks not strings (unlike most puppets). . Each week, as part of the show, the adorable little mouse would appear on stage and greet the stone-faced Mr. Sullivan with a sugary "Hello, Eddie!" Topo, who often spoke of his girlfriend, Rosey, closed his weekly visits by saying "Keesa me goo'night, Eddie." Topo appeared 92 times and closed the final 1971 episode of ED SULLIVAN SHOW.

Old Salem, NC - behind the scenes in 1980s

This post is not about Old Salem, NC and all the buildings, etc. You need to go to this website to read all about the village of Old Salem: http://www.oldsalem.org/index.php?id=104


What I am writing about includes my experiences as a "behind the scenes" docent (volunteer) during the time we lived in Winston-Salem (1979-1985).
I was fascinated by this religious Moravian colony that settled in Salem, NC. They kept very careful records and were master carpenters and hard working people. I loved the Moravian cooking, especially baked goods. More about this later.


We had just moved to Winston-Salem from Minneapolis, MN and I was looking for something to occupy my time while James was attending a sheltered workshop near Old Salem in the downtown area of Winston-Salem. I read an article in the newspaper that they were looking for volunteers to start up a program to assist with events, etc. and office work. We would not be volunteer costumed interpreters that tell the Old Salem story and are stationed throughout the village. We worked behind the scenes such as helping with mailing newsletters, planning for special events such as the Christmas party for workers and volunteers, and many other things as
needed. I loved doing this. I remember the staff member who organized this group. Her name was Margaret Hoffman from Clemmons. We became good friends since we also lived near Clemmons, a short distance from W-S. Our little group was organized and we had about a dozen volunteers. We had name tags made and appeared at several social functions as "delegates" from Old Salem. Most of all I enjoyed being a part of Old Salem culture and participating in so many of the events.

The best time of all was at Easter and Christmas, and 4th of July if it wasn't too hot! Our first Easter sunrise experience took place around 1980 and I remember how cold it was that Easter morning as we stood in silence in the middle of Old Salem, facing Home Moranvian Church as the sun was coming up. The minister walked out on the little balcony overlooking the crowd and proclaimed" He is risen" and the crowd responded "He has risen indeed!" and the sunrise service was underway. The antiphonal sounds of the Moravian band were heard all over the area throughout the service. Following the service (you could hear a pin drop it was so quiet) the crowd made its way down the narrow street to God's Acre cemetery to complete the service.


We were back home in time to have breakfast and to get ready to go to our church for a different kind of Easter service at Knollwood Baptist Church.


On the 4th of July, we enjoyed the festivities that took place at Old Salem, including a demonstration of the old fire pump they used to put out fires. There would usually be a parade with kids and pets and of course the Moravian brass band leading the parade - and refreshments afterward.


Christmas at Old Salem was so special. We always attended one of the Love Feast celebrations at Home Moranvian church and heard Christmas music when someone would play the old organ located at the Single Brothers House. And the Old Salem Docents helped out during the Christmas at Old Salem tours that were held daily for about 2 weeks before Christmas. I don't think they have these tours anymore. At the end of the tours, the docents held a party in the basement of the building pictured here. I still remember the apple dumplings and the spicy hot wassail bowl and other treats we had and the fun time. These are the perks of being a volunteer.
A few years ago a tornado swept down in the square at Old Salem and took down most of the old trees. It looks different there now. Many of the old restored buildings have been purchased and used as private residences and are not on tour. The Winkler Bakery is still in operation and you can still buy the delicious sugar cake or Moravian buns that are baked in the bee-hive shaped cement open door ovens. The gift shops feature Moravian handmade items. You can see many of the costumed craftsmen at work when you tour the village. I have some of the handmade candle holders, a big Moravian star with light inside that we hang on our porch every Christmas and other momentoes from Old Salem. How I'd love to have one of those delicious sugar cakes and a round tin of the thin Moravian cookies and smell the hot baked bread coming out of the oven at Winkler's bakery.   

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Okefenokee Swamp experience




In the summer of 1967, when we were living in Atlanta, we decided to take a trip to the Okefenokee Swamp in south Georgia. I had read about the swamp and the critters and loved the comic strip "Pogo" - which included critters from the swamp. I worked for a Dr. at the Communicable Disease Center (1957-67), who had an artist friend, Athos Menaboni, who painted birds and loved to go to the swamp to see the egrets and great blue herons. Not only did I see the big snowy egrets and big blue herons, but many other wildlife - including alligators swimming in the dark murky waters of the canals in the swamp. Click the green map to enlarge it and you will see the West Entrance and the park area.


My dad came from Elba, AL brought a friend, Frances, to Atlanta and they went with us to the Okefenokee swamp. We stayed in a cabin at the western gate to the park, at the Stephen Foster National Park. Our oldest son Ron is pictured above playing with the tame deer that roamed the area, along with lots of racoons who liked to empty the garage cans. (Note: Daddy and Frances got married in August 1967. He had brought her up for us to meet her.)


We arrived at the entrance to the Okefenokee National Wildlife Refuge and were informed that we should make sure that we had everything we needed since the park gate would be locked at 7 p.m. and not opened again until 8 the next morning. We felt safe from people but I wasn't so sure about all the wild animals. We checked in at our cabin and after dark we drove through the park with only parking lights on to observe the critters roaming around in the evening. They were not afraid of us. You could see the eyes of the animals before you were able to identify them.


The next day Jim and I rented a small boat with trolling motor and set out with a map to see the area, aiming for Billy's Island where people used to live. The narrow canal connected the marina to the swamp area. The water was so dark, almost black from the peat and decaying vegetation. The water was like a mirror, reflecting the sky, trees, and things around it. You couldn't see down into the water.


What was to be a two hour trip took most of the day because of problems we encountered along the way. I was not too happy about the movement of the water around us at times when alligators were swimming along with us. Once one stuck his head up out of the water and I dropped the movie camera and screamed. As the waterway narrowed and entered a small canal, all I could think of was snakes dropping out of the trees into our boat (I had seen this happen in jungle movies). We had a map of the area but everything began to look the same and we had no idea where were heading - except to follow the sun for directions. The boat motor didn't work too much of the time since it kept getting tangled among the aquatic plants. Jim would lift the motor out of the water and we would paddle until the water was clear of vegetation. We thought we would reach Billy's Island in a short time but it was more like hours. We spotted the boat landing at Billy's Island around noon. We didn't bring any lunch and all I could think of was there's nothing to eat, and it would take us a long time to get back. But we had come this far and we wanted to explore the island and look for old settlements. Just as we set off on a trail, a sudden shower came up and at least it cooled us off.


We explored the island for awhile and decided we needed to head back. As we came near the boat landing, our boat was nowhere in sight. My heart sank; I would NOT spend the night on that island. We walked out on the landing and saw that our boat had drifted underneath. We got in the boat and started back to the park marina. We got back late in the afternoon and everybody was getting worried about us. The Okefenokee Swamp was a great experience and truly the "land of the trembling earth". It was like walking in a bog; when you walked you could sometimes feel the earth move or tremble underneath you.


I went back 28 years later and things had changed a lot; much more developed, etc. I took an air boat trip to the Suwanee river (and it rained on the way). This wasn't nearly as exciting as the little flat bottom boat Jim and I traveled in earlier. The park is still a remote area, far from civilization. In 2007 there were wildfires out of control in the swamp and I shudder to think of all the wildlife that either died or lost their homes. If you want to learn more about Okefenokee Swamp, go to this website and read all about it. http://ourgeorgiahistory.com/places/okefenokee.html

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

A step back in time - 1968

In July, 1968, we loaded our new Chevrolet and hitched it up to a small camper and took off from Paris, TX and went southwest to El Paso, then up through New Mexico, Arizona, and on to Colorado for a period of 2 weeks. Our boys were 10, 11-1/2 and 13. This was one of our most fun places to visit, Mesa Verde, Colorado - near Four Corners, the only place in the United States where four states come together at one place. Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado meet at the Four Corners. Here a person can put each of their hands and feet in four states at the same time. The unique landmark is on Navajo Nation land and is open for visits from the public.


Our oldest son took this b&w photo from high up on the rim of the canyon. In the lower left hand corner of the photo you can see a people looking at the Indian cliff dwellings. The park was not very well developed in 1968 and certainly was not handicapped accessible. I know because we had a hard time getting down the narrow path from the top of the canyon down to the cliff dwellings. Little did I know that the trip down was easy compared to the way out! We had fun weaving in and out of the little houses and observing how they lived. The Pueblo Indians had to be very short people since you could hardly stand up in the small rooms that had been carved out of the side of the mountain. Jim was exploring with Ron and Bill and I followed behind with our handicapped son James. He had difficulty walking and was afraid of things along the way. We were far behind Jim and the other boys. They finished looking at the area and decided to go back to the top of the cliff. They scaled up the cedar ladder to the top and were soon out of sight. When James and I got to the end of the road leading out of the area, we discovered the only way out was to climb straight up a ladder to the top. There was no way James could climb that ladder. So.... I put him in front of me and helped him place his splindly little crooked legs on each rung of the ladder and pushed him up, step by step. I didn't dare turn around and look back down into the canyon until we got to the top. We were warned that the trip was difficult but nobody mentioned climbing out of the area by the way of a ladder.


This colored photo was taken recently (got it off the internet) and while the houses look pretty much the same, I dare say you will have a better trail leading to and from the area. We camped at the National Park Service campsite, along with lots of wild animals. At night there was a big campfire (it gets cold there at night) and someone played a guitar and we all sang songs and roasted marshmallows after going for a hayride, all provided by the park rangers.


The next day we visited the museum and the boys saw their first mummy. Her name was Esther and she still had hair on her head and teeth in her mouth. Ronnie bought a post card to take back to show his friends. That card is still around in a box with other momentos someplace in our house. When I hear the word Mesa Verde or Four Corners, I always go back to that hot summer day, trying to get up that ladder with James!


Go to this link if you want to know more about this great archilogical site: http://www.nps.gov/meve/

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Making stones

When we moved to our little cottage in the county near Elba, AL in 1996, we had to do a lot of landscaping. I wanted a small English country garden in front of the house and a stone walkway. My sister Carolyn came to spend a week with us and helped put up a picket fence, plan the garden, and to plant the flowers. I wanted a walkway and she brought her plastic form and she showed us how to make stones with cement.


You could make about 7 or 8 stones at one time. You put the mold down, pour cement into the openings in the mold, and then lift the mold off. Voila! There were big stones. She showed us how to sprinkle coarse sand on the cement after rounding the corners. They looked just like rive
r rocks! This was not an easy task as one small bag of Sakrete would only make 3 or 4 sections. we worked for several days to have enough stones for the walkway. Jim and I were so proud of our "creation" and it really added to the country garden look.


So if you want a rock pathway, just go to Lowe's and get a mold and some cement and go to work.  You can even get colored cement.  We chose natural color cement and it darkens as it ages.  



Coming down the hill
to the house, which has
a lake behind it.







Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Remembering our family cats

Over the past 50 years we have had several cats for family pets. I think the first one was a Siamese female we got from my sister Christine who sent it to Atlanta from Washington, DC in the early 1960's. I remember going to the Atlanta airport to pick up the tiny kitten and it was in a small cage, and frightened to death. I think the boys went with me to get the cat; can't remember that far back.

We brought her home and decided on a name. She was so happy to be held and started purring. The boys decided her name was going to be "Purry". And so that's what she was called. Most of the time she stayed inside or in the basement. We discovered she was going to have kittens just as we were getting ready to move to Paris, Texas in 1967. Jim, the 3 boys and I, and a cage with a pregnant Siamese cat set our for Texas in our station wagon. I think Purry yelled most of the way to Texas and if you've ever heard a Siamese cat "yell", it will drive you crazy. We gave her a tranquilizer but it didn't help much. Purry had her kittens and we gave them all away. i don't know if that upset her or if the move to a strange place was why she meowed all the time and didn't want us to pet her. We gave her to a lady in the country so she could get outside and catch mice and roam around.

Not much time elapsed before we acquired a solid black cat. I think one of Bill's friends gave him the kitten. He thought it looked like a black panther and decided to name the cat Malcom X, leader of the Black Panthers at the time. The cat liked to chase Bill through the house and he enjoyed him so much. Then we were transferred to Minneapolis and of course we had to take Malcolm X with us. Remembering the trip to Texas from Atlanta, I made sure we had tranquilizers for Malcolm. Once I thought he was dead he was so limp and sedated. He loved living in the cool climate after living in the hot Texas country. That is until it snowed. He did not like to go outside in the snow and would sit at the window looking out at the birds eating at the bird feeder. I'm glad he didn't like the snow! Once Sunday while we were at church, we left the cat in the garage and he ventured out and was attacked by the neighbors big Chesapeake hunting dogs. He died a few days later, just after Bill came home from Texas for a school break from college. He went to the vet to see him and made the decision to have his cat put to sleep.

We didn't have another cat for awhile until we were living in Winston-Salem, NC. James wanted a cat but we kept putting him off. A neighbor had a beautiful calico long hair cat and James would go up the street to their house to play with their cat. One day he came home and said they wanted to give him the cat since they were moving away. So that's how we became the owners of Pôpoki (POH' poh kee) which is Hawaiian for Cat. The little girl in the family had brought Poki home from Hawaii when she went to visit her grandmother. We shortened her name to Poki and when we moved to Haleyville in N. Alabama, Poki went with us. She was an outdoor cat and a great hunter. She liked to sleep on the carport on a table or on top of the car. One night she disappeared and we never found her. For days we rode about in the neighborhood looking for her. I think maybe somebody kidnapped her. She was so friendly and very beautiful.

Several years went by before we adopted another cat. We were living Albany, GA and traveling to our farm in AL on week-ends occasionally. My cousin who lived near our farm had 14 or more cats and James saw a white one he wanted. Betty gave him the cat and we took it home with us. He named that cat Poki, Jr., calling him Poki. When we left Albany and moved to the farm permanently, the cat didn't want to go with us. We had a hard time catching him to put him in a carrier and he was not very happy. Poki developed throat cancer a few years later and had to be put to sleep. He was a great hunter and kept down the field mice population as well as rabbits, chipmunks, and other critters. He stayed outdoors. We buried Poki under a big oak tree in the yard and put a stone on his grave. James was so sad when he died. He didn't mention wanting another cat for awhile.

Then when I was visiting our son Bill the next summer and returning with two of the granddaughters to spend a week with us, we brought their family cat back home to James.
They didn't want the responsibility of taking care of the cat and Bill wanted to get rid of the cat.
So they wanted to give the cat to James. We made the trip from SC to AL ok but it was rather noisy with the cat yelling a lot.

We named the cat Poki, Jr. and called him P.J. He was a great hunter also. He was also an outdoor cat and had a cat door so he could come and go to the back porch and sit on the soft chair cushions all day. I think this was our favorite cat or at least the most friendly. He loved to sit in your lap and purr. He would go walking with us and when we left home and returned, he could hear the car coming down the dirt road and would run out to meet us.

P.J had a hard time adjusting to living in town when we moved to Elba in 2003. Other cats didn't want him in their territory and he was always getting in fights and having to go to the vet.
After awhile he too developed throat cancer and had to be put to sleep when he was about 15 years old. At the present time we don't have a pet and I feel so bad when James sees cats on TV and talks to them and tells me he would like to have another cat for a pet. Neither Jim nor I want another animal right now so we just keep putting him off. James and I are both allergic to cats and can't keep one inside. We'll just continue looking at them on TV for awhile.