Today I got to go to Horse Cave’s Kentucky Repertory Theatre to see A CHRISTMAS CAROL as a field trip for the 3rd grade. The principal at Calvary had booked the trip, but she wanted me to go along since I teach drama. OMIGOSH, it was so good! I was so surprised. This was a much better production than anything I’ve seen in Kentucky, save some of Brendan’s work. The gentleman who played was Scrooge was incredible–he had me weeping. I want to go back there and see other stuff. How this company exists in the middle of nowhere is beyond me, but anyone who enjoys live theatre should make the trip. Who cares if Kevin Klein is in Cyrano on Broadway? Ebenezer is alive and well in Horse Cave!

So I put on my dark green suede Christmas shoes, and then on the way into school I accidentally walked through a puddle, and about 15 minutes later one sole felt sort of flappy, and then the other one did, and then they both just fell off. So I went around all day with green suede on the top of my feet and a sort of gauze on the bottom. Don’t think I didn’t try to Elmer’s glue them on during my lunch break. I even weighed them down with encyclopedias. But as soon as I put them back on they flapped off, and then I had to wipe off the leftover Elmer’s before the next class came in. I know you won’t believe this, but sometimes even duct tape doesn’t work. Walking to the car at the end of the day was pretty soppy.

I never travel without my box.. . . I love “Amahl and the Night Visitors.” It was the first operetta written for television. By Menotti in 1951. I don’t remember seeing it then of course, but not that many years after. And every year after that for many years. John and I used to go around singing parts of it to each other. “Ohhh, Little Boy. . . Ohhh, Little Boy. . in the third drawer—-LICORICE! LICORICE! Sweet, black licorice!” We went to see it some time in the ’90’s in Berea. I don’t remember if Wayne was still alive, but I think I took all three of the the kids. Caitlan and I went to see it last night at Centre. It was fun to be there with her. The girl playing the part of the mother had a wonderful voice. The fact that the girl playing Amahl was taller than her mother was a little off-putting.

I kind of like Ron Paul.

I remember having an Advent wreath from a very early age. We usually got the candles at a Rosary-Altar Society bake sale or something similar. We would cut a few branches from the evergreen bushes that grew around the porch. Dad made a holder out of rabbit cage wire, and we would stand the candles up in it. We would bless it on the first night–Mom would sprinkle some holy water on it. There was always holy water in the house. We had little fonts that hung on the walls of the bedrooms by the light switches. Then we said a blessing prayer. After that the prayer was the same each night for the the first week. Then a different prayer for the second week, and so on. We were more conscientious about lighting it and praying during the first weeks. Sometimes by the time we got to the pink candle, we only lit it once or twice. And the fourth purple candle hardly got burned at all. When we established our own household, Dad made us each a log Advent candle holder (it wasn’t really a wreath). I don’t think, when people eulogized him, that anyone mentioned that he was an Advent candle holder maker.

I had dinner with my groupies at Elvira’s on Friday night. I was late so Deb ordered my house red and a plate of ravioli for me. Yum! On Saturday I was up early enough to get some laundry done before Brendan arrived. Time to change to the flannel sheets. Jim Brown helped us work on a room in the barn that Brendan is insulating and varmint-proofing so that he can store things there. I think there will be room enough so that I can get some things out of the basement as well. Brendan also helped me put up two of my new Levelor shades. This will be great for keeping things cool in the summer and warmer in the winter. He fixed omelettes for us and then we watched Syriana.The next morning we went to church at the Newman Center at UK with Deb and then to Alfalfa’s for brunch for Deb’s Birthday (Blackberry/walnut pancakes–mmmmm). It was a dreary, rainy day so we gave up on car shopping, and Brendan headed back to Louisville. Caitlan called later to tell me that she safely arrived in Louisville. YAY! I headed down to the Valley with a stop-off to see John and Dana and drop off some Joe-boxes on the way. Mombo and I tried to watch TIN MAN on the Sci-Fi channel. It was great to get a call from Hilo and talk to Ian for a while. Spending time with my kids–whether in person, on-line, or on the phone–it’s a joy.

Th whooping crane people came to our school to talk to the kids today. I didn’t know about the whooping cranes. Of course they are endangered–they were almost hunted into extinction in the 1950’s. There were only 15 left then. There is still one totally wild flock that migrates from Canada to Texas, but they don’t fly over Kentucky. The whooping crane people were Joan ( we are an endangered species too–nobody names a baby Joan any more) and Chris. They are from Wisconsin, and they raise cranes in captivity to be released into the wild. There are cranes in zoos, but they have imprinted on humans so they won’t migrate. The ones that Joan and Chris raise have never seen a human. The humans in contact with them wear white suits with a crane puppet head on their right hands. They wear tape recorders that may crane brooding sounds. They also play engine sounds to the eggs so that the fledgling cranes are used to the sound and will follow the ultra-light that Chris flies Florida in the fall. They go about 50 miles a day, and are trying to re-establish the old route from Wisconsin to Florida (over Kentucky). They have made the trip for seven years. Once the cranes follow Chris to Florida, they come back to Wisconsin on their own in the spring and continue the migration after that.
Now we have about 350 cranes in the wild in the U.S. These birds are five feet tall and have an eight foot wingspan–imagine a bird almost as tall as you are with four foot arms! And they were in Springfield!! Thank you, Chris and Joan. I’m proud you share my name.

Today I had a colonoscopy. When I told people that I was to have this done, they asked, “Is something wrong?” Now, if there was something wrong, do you think they would want to hear details such as these? Of course, perhaps they didn’t want to hear that I was having one done in the first place. So I would just say,”I had polyps the first time.” This seemed to satisfy them. And everything was fine today. And that satisfies me.

Today is C.S. Lewis’s birthday. And Louisa May Alcott’s. And Madeline L’Engle’s. (I love WRITER’S ALMANAC). What a trio of birthday pals! If I had been born on November 29th, I would have a birthday party every year and make everyone read aloud their favorite passages. Maybe I’ll make you read quotes instead.

Madeleine L’Engle said, “You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.”

C.S. Lewis said, “When we set out [for the zoo] I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did. Yet I had not exactly spent the journey in thought.”

Louisa May Alcott said, “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning to sail my ship.”

Brendan had sent me an email that he got from a past acquaintance of Joe’s. Upon hearing of his death, she Googled him and found Brendan’s blog. I reread both Brendan’s blog entries and Anacrusis about him. It was a fine way to commemorate our anniversary, Brendan. Thanks for the gift. If he had been here I would have shared a poem with him. He would have liked it, but would have criticized it. That’s the way he was. Instead I shared it with others and did without the criticism. I miss even that.

Poem: “When I Am Old” by Ray Nargis, from Almost Tomorrow.

When I Am Old

When I am old I shall wear a ball cap
From the St. Louis Browns
Because my grandfather once played in their farm system,
Or maybe a John B. Stetson hat, three-corner fold,
Four X and black chinos with both suspenders and a belt
And the knees ripped out, not as a fashion statement,
But from work.
And black biker boots and a T-shirt with the slogan
“I’m Working On My Issues.”
I’ll use a walking stick and not a cane
And have a key ring with about a hundred keys
And I won’t know what any of them open and I won’t care.

When I am old I’ll drink whiskey in the morning
And coffee at night
And laugh and spit and swear wherever I want.
When I am old I’ll help Girl Scouts across the street
Even if they don’t want to go
And I won’t have a car
And I won’t have a bike
And I’ll walk everywhere.

When I am old I’ll have a dog named Sam Peckinpaw
And some summer’s morning I’ll lock up the house
And old Sam and I will walk over to see to see one of my
sons
Even if he lives two states away.
When I am old I’ll tell people exactly what I think of them
And surprisingly, most of the time it really will be good
stuff.
When I am old I won’t have a TV
And I won’t have a radio
And I won’t have a computer or a clock or a phone in the
house.
I won’t read books and I won’t read magazines
And I won’t read newspapers and maybe, finally
I’ll learn something just watching the birds and the
weather.

The earth is silent.