Come Rejoicing by Liz Flaherty

Sowing in the morning, sowing seeds of kindness,
Sowing in the noontide and the dewy eve;
Waiting for the harvest, and the time of reaping,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.

I have nothing to say today. Actually, I do. I have plenty. There are times, I admit, that I wish I wrote a political column--not one where I just get political sometimes, but a real political one.

But that's not going to happen. I don't know enough--and yes, that should be a stopper--and my skin is way too thin--and wrinkled--to survive the backlash. 

So, let's just talk.

Has that moon the past few days not been the most beautiful thing? We were coming home last night and I'm almost sure I saw the man in it!

Jan and Gary Wooten

We listen to music a lot. (One of us plays it, too.) Last night we got to listen to old, familiar songs at a friend's house on Lake Manitou. Tonight, Second Saturday, we will listen at Gallery 15. One day this week, while searching out the lyrics to an old hymn, I sang "Bringing In the Sheaves" to no one in particular while I wrote. (I take the term "joyful noise" very seriously.) 

I wouldn't be me if I didn't offer advice. If you don't do lunch with friends, you should. It's so much cheaper than therapy, you can pack a boatload of memories into an hour around a table, no one cares at all about your thin and wrinkled skin, and there isn't time for grudges. (Actually, there should never be time for grudges, but that's another column where I might need to have a teeny bit of focus to offer the subject.)

Are you planning a trip? Where are you going? My idea of travel is a new place every month and Duane's is an old place every four or five years, so you can see why I'm curious. It's called traveling vicariously. Although my friend Nan and I are going to Michigan for a few days soon and it will be so much fun, I have an itch for a new place. Where do you suggest?

I love trees. Just saying. And flowers. I want some of those "naked lady" lilies, some ditch lilies, and every purple flower that grows wild. The ones in this picture were included in my birthday bouquet. The roses are long gone, but these are still brightening up my desk. Other than kids and kittens, I don't grow things well, but if I did, I'd have those lilies and purple flowers. 

We've had the windows open this week. Although, as a survivor of hundreds of hot flashes over the years, I'd never give up central air conditioning, I have enjoyed the reminder of how much I love to hear the birds. 

So that's how I'll leave this one. I hope you've seen the moon, heard the birds, and enjoyed the flowers this week. Oh, and experienced lots of joyful noises, too. Until next time, have a good week, watch out for kids walking to school and school buses stopping--that means you're supposed to stop, too--and take the detours out there; you might see something new. Thank a teacher, hug somebody, and donate to a worthy cause. It'll not only make someone else's day, but your own as well. Be nice to somebody. 

 

Free with the Tree by Liz Flaherty

I've written about music before, which with my tin ear, two left feet, and appalling voice, isn't necessarily expected even though music is as important in our house as any possession we might have. Experts insist you should write what you know, and what I know about music is how bad I am at every facet of it.

Except listening. I'm a good listener.

And feeling. I'm good at that, too. (And dwelling on what I feel, but we're not talking about that this week.)

Terri & John Bond - Photo by Sarah Luginbill

We were at an open mic session at Gallery 15 this week and Terri and John Bond sang "Mr. Bojangles." It's an old favorite and I hadn't heard it in a long time. I sang along almost silently--at least, no one gave me any dirty looks--and the lyrics and the tempo of the song created one of the most overused terms of the century, a soft place to fall. With the sounds of Circus City Days as a suitable backdrop, the story in the words and the gentle tune opened the doors of yesterdays and good feelings. 

When I looked up "Mr. Bojangles" this morning to get information on it, I remembered a made-for-TV movie in 1977 called Sunshine Christmas when Pat Hingle sang the song for his granddaughter. It was a sweet, sentimental show that entertained and made my heart ache at the same time. What could be better?

Hearing Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," watching graduates walk in to "Pomp and Circumstance," and experiencing anyone singing "Amazing Grace" can bring me to tears and hiss "shhh!" to anyone silly enough to talk while the music's entering my heart. 

There are moments that music give us that are like gifts. Bette Midler and Wynonna Judd are singing "The Rose" on YouTube as I write this, and I remember that it was played at my brother-in-law's funeral. Laughing Bill. We still miss him. But, oh, the memories are precious.  

Music is public, it's loud, it's shared; there is music played in cars that can be heard and felt hundreds of feet away (whether you want it to be or not), and yet...and yet...it's so intensely private, too. I just listened to Linda Ronstadt singing "Silver Threads and Golden Needles" with the Eagles and danced in the office wishing I had a hairbrush out here to sing into. I would not care for anyone to have seen that, much less heard it. It would leave a mark

I dislike virtually all music--give me a break; I said virtually--released in this century, plus most of the stuff my kids played in the last one, but I know how the music of the 1960s made me feel. And I remember how my mom disliked it. I think there were a couple of years there when the only words she said to me were, "Turn it down!" That is, I guess, how generations roll. What's funny is that the songs from when my folks were young give me all kinds of warm, fuzzy feelings when I hear them. My kids like the Beatles and the Eagles, too, and I'm fairly sure they're all aware that "Good Vibrations" is anthemesque in its importance. 

Sometimes the mistakes are what you remember when you hear a song. I sang, "...just another magic Monday..." for years instead of "...just another manic Monday..." (Even now that I know better, I like magic better.) I just saw a meme on Facebook about an eight-year-old singing "...dancing queen, young and sweet, only seven teeth..." Kari Wilson and Anna Bednarski agreed that they sang it and it flowed. Anna said it might be even better than the original. Just like magic...

Duane sang a Joe Nichols song last night called "The Shade." It's a nice song and has one of my favorite lines of all time. ...the shade comes free with a tree...

We need music, don't we? We need to be better listeners, to have open hearts, to allow ourselves to feel. We also need to be foolish sometimes and sing badly into hair brush microphones, to cherish the memories that music gives us, just like the shade with a tree, free of charge. 

Thanks for listening. Have a great week. Be nice to somebody. 

Real Life by Liz Flaherty

I will admit to being the poster child for too much Facebook. While I don't watch much TV and hardly any movies or play video games and I'm not--I don't think--addicted to my phone, I spend a lot of time in front of a computer screen. In my defense, much of the time is spent working. (As much as I love writing books and essays, yes, it is work.) However, when I need to break away from rewriting a scene for the third time because it didn't work the first two and the third isn't looking hopeful, either, Green Mountain Nantucket Blend and Facebook are my "drugs" of choice. 

So far, not a problem, right? No, the problem happens when Facebook or other social media become your reality. When unconscionable rudeness becomes the people who are doing it instead just ugly things on a screen. When people unfriend you because of your political stance or you do the same to them. When they repeat things because they're funny without thought to them not being true. When cruelty is the rule of the day and so many people, only some of them bots or trolls, claim some kind of invincibility because...well, I don't know why. 

Because when you meet them somewhere in person, they're almost always polite. They ask how you are, how the family is. They hold the door for you. They don't hoard toilet paper, harangue you about your faith or lack of it, or call you by anything but your name. (Yeah, I know, I know...I beat that horse to death and it still won't go down.)

I've written this to remind myself. Am I going to give up Facebook? Nope. It's how I keep up with people I never see, how I know everyone in the world but me is good at Wordle, how I promote books. It's where I read wonderful quotes I might have missed otherwise, look at adorable cat pictures, and talk to other writers. It's where I share pictures of my grandkids--who are all so amazing! Have I told you...

There's such fun to be had on social media, so many things to learn. But, at the end of the day, it's not real life--it's just a screenshot taken out of context. 

Real life for me lately has been reading to Head Start kids at Elmwood. It's unbelievable how much cuteness can be contained in a classroom, isn't it? 

Real life has been neighbors and friends doing snow removal from our driveway.

Real life has been patching blue jeans for a grandson and a nephew and thinking about them while I do it. These kids today are fabulous and funny people, you know it? You parents and teachers have done such a great job. That's the reality, not what you see on Facebook. 

Real life has been arguing with my husband one minute and laughing the next. When you see a 50-year anniversary meme of a beaming couple, know it hasn't all been beaming--it's been scowling and shouting sometimes, too, and that's how it's lasted. That's why they're strong. 

Photo by J. Koons Craft

Real life is people like Steve Hagan, who's retiring from Denver's grocery store today after working there, I swear, since infancy. The store doesn't belong to his family anymore, but it will always be Hagan's to me. Steve's been putting out fires--both literally and figuratively--for as long as I've known him. He is the embodiment of a generous spirit. 

Real life is people like Mary and Katie Day, Anita Lynn, Sarah and Ron Luginbill, Conny at the breadshop, Joe DeRozier and a slew of others who lend richness to their downtown. Where instead of saying, "there's nothing here," you can open your eyes and ears and find out there really is. 

Real life is doing the best you can with every single day, no matter what Facebook says. It's laughing at jokes that don't hurt anyone, singing even if you can't carry a tune, and crying not just over your own losses but over your neighbor's too. 

Scattered as usual, with apologies, I'll end this now. Have a great week, don't spend too much time on Facebook, and be nice to somebody. 

A Bit of A Party!

 We hope to see you there!

This Friday we're going to have a "Bit of a Party"

65 North Broadway

Peru, Indiana

Friday, October 15th

4-7 PM

We're going to have Wine from our Wineworks.

Art from our Gallery 15.

Coffee and Hot Chocolate from our Aroma Coffee

Some gifts from our Boho-Chic Hair Salon

Snippets of all the things at our Anita's

D O N U T S

Live music from Duane and Denny

And a book signing from Best Seller, Liz Flaherty, Debby Myers and her trilogy,

and your dusty donut guy and his two books.

4pm-7pm!

Stop in to say, Hi!

Everybody's welcome... by Liz Flaherty

Is it on your calendar? There's going to be a "Bit of a Party!" at 65 N. Broadway; Peru, IN 46970 at 6:00 PM on April 9. With thanks to Donut Joe DeRozier for hosting us, the lineup looks like this:

Signing and selling books will be:

Liz Flaherty - Window Over the Sink .

Debby Myers - Vex and Valor.

Sherry West - It’s Raining Cats! It’s Raining Dogs! It’s Raining Bats! And Pollywogs!

Caryn Suarez - Living Crazy Like Fly.

Joe DeRozier - Heck, I Don't Know...I Just Make Donuts.

***

Businesses represented will be:

The Wine Works - Jason McKeever Dreams to Reality/Aroma - Sandra TossouOasis Serenity Therapeutic Massage & Spa - Shannah Hight Boho-Chic Hair Boutique - Emily HopperAnita's Boutique - Anita Day

Dirty Paws Pet Grooming and Pet Store - Michael Graves 6th Street Coffee - Kreig Adkins

Gallery 15 & Studios - Sarah Luginbill

It should be a lot of fun! We hope to see you there!

***

Words. Right Here in River City! by Liz Flaherty

I will try not to be sesquipedalian when I write the column today. Only showoffs are, you know...oh, and people who know more and better words than I do. Ones who walk down corridors instead of hallways, have fevered brows instead of sweaty foreheads, and suffer from plantar fasciitis instead of sore feet.  

The word sesquipedalian came from a word-of-the-day email I get from Merriam-Webster. I forget a lot of the words, and never use some of them, but then there are those that are just so...fun. 

Sesquipedalian--see? I keep repeating it in the hope that I'll remember it--means either having many syllables or using long words. I like it a lot, and when I say it, I think of Robert Preston singing "Ya Got Trouble" in The Music Man. There's a rhythm to it. A cadence. Measurement. 

I love words, but their pronunciation is often a mystery to me. If I have to read aloud from the Bible in church, I look up audio pronunciations of things like koinonia so that I will sound as if I actually know what I'm talking about. (Yeah, I know the Lord knows better, but He has infinite patience.)

I was in my 40s before I knew that Aloysius was actually Allo-wishes. I'm not sure I have it straight yet that epitome is e-pit-o-mee but Jerome is Je-rome. Isn't it? Or is Je-rome really Jer-e-mee? Which brings me to my son's name, which is Jeremy. Should we have spelled it J-e-r-o-m-e? I hope not, because I don't even like how that looks. Perhaps this is the underlying reason we call him Jock and always have.

I was also in my 40s before I learned to spell weird and diminutive. Not knowing how to spell them had never stopped me from using them in print, but it should have. 

Words become buzzwords. I'd never used the word efficacy in my whole life--I had to look it up to be certain of its meaning and I'm still confused--and yet it's suddenly in the news all the time. Do you remember when someone realized that harassment was a real thing and the word became what had to have been the most-used of that particular year? Only the pronunciation got changed. I still blink when someone says HARassment instead of harASSment. Did they do that so that the very fitting word ass wouldn't be stressed when they talked about it?

Etymology is the study of words and their origins. This is a word I'm really not too crazy about, because I get it confused with entomology, which is the study of bugs.

I do have favorites, though. I love the word serendipity, because it feels good when I say it. I like juxtaposition, although it sounds goofy when I say it. I like compassion, tolerance, joy, kindness, gathering. I like when words sound like themselves, like rain or gentle or laughter.

I like that I get to write this column every week and that you are kind enough to read it. There's another good word: appreciation. 

Got any favorites? Or ones you don't like? I hope you share them with us. Have a great week. Use good words. Be nice to somebody.

***

The #businessoftheweek is Gallery 15 & Studios. The gallery is beautiful and welcoming. It is a place to appreciate and enjoy art and music as well as learn from artist Sarah Luginbill and musician Ron Luginbill. There are paintings displayed that will complement any décor and, more importantly, find comfortable places in any heart.

Stop in or call to see what's going on. Arrange for lessons or just go in and sit a while and absorb. You'll feel better for having done so.

Gallery 15 & Studios

15 E. Main

Peru, IN 46970

(765) 469-9730