Just Talking... by Liz Flaherty

It was a dark and stormy night...

Well, no, it wasn't. But my mind refuses to settle in today. Even if I can think of something to write about, I don't get much further than the first sentence. Usually it's a little more original than the one above, but not always. So, let's just talk. Want to?

We went to Fort Wayne on Thursday. We did the errands we had to and then had dinner at Hall's Tavern at Coventry. I'm not a fan of cities with lots of roads and traffic in them, but I do like that restaurant a lot. 

On Tuesday, we needed milk, so I went up to Raber's at Gilead. I had so much fun walking around looking that I almost forgot the milk. It's one of my favorite places to buy cheese, so I got some of Duane's favorite kind but neglected to get myself any. So now I have to eat his. 

I'm writing a new book and having so much fun with it. It's different, and I'm using first person, which I haven't done in years. If I had a dollar for every time I've written she instead of I, there'd be no reason to finish the book--I'd already have lots of money.

I have a cover for my latest book (not the one I just mentioned), but no release date yet. It'll be soon, though, so keep an eye out for Book 3 of Second Chances, The Summer of  Sorrow and Dance. I had a lot of trouble writing this book, although I'm pleased with it now that it's done. Its title, although it fits the story, has fit me, too, in this long season since my sister passed in April. The dancing part of it, for me, is metaphorical--having to do with my two left feet--but it's real, too. I will miss her always, but there's joy in the sorrow now. That's the dance. 

Election's coming up soon. Don't forget to vote. Do I necessarily think everyone's vote counts the same? No. But if you don't vote, it can't count at all. 

Regine Brindle

Hasn't the fall foliage been spectacular this year? Regine Bridle's photographs have made sure the colors will remain in memory long after the leaves are gone. Checking Gallery 15's Facebook page to see what Sarah Luginbill's painting with pumpkins and Ron Luginbill is building with gourds is always an interesting way to spend some time. Stopping in to visit is even better. 

I hope you'll stop by Revived at 53 E. 5th St. on October 29. The store will be open all day, but Debby Myers, Joe DeRozier, and I will be signing books from 12:30 to 3:30 PM. We hope to see you there!

Have a great week! Be nice to somebody!

Trees, Flags, and Better Days by Liz Flaherty

I'm writing this early (very unusual--I'm more likely to be writing the column before dawn on Saturday morning), so if it seems "out of time," it probably is. 

What do you do when you write a column that tries very hard to focus on the positive, but your neighbor two miles away is flying a Nazi flag on his property and you've heard the news that someone--presumably the state of Indiana--plans on removing the trees that line State Road 16 along its path through Denver? 

These are not--for me--positive things. Not that the neighbor doesn't have the right to fly that flag if he likes; it's part of the First Amendment, which is one of my favorites, and indicative of his values--something we are all entitled to express. 

Removing trees is a hard one for me, because I'm too old to see replacement trees grown up, and if the ones there now are removed, I'll never again appreciate the string of silver maples that shelter the front porches that line Denver's main drag. However. There's always a however, isn't there?

 

Sara Musselman

Yeah, it's a hard one.

But look what showed up on Facebook this morning. My friend Mary Snow shared it, and I was so glad to see it again. It's just the best idea, and I'm going to start my Advent collection on November 1 instead of December 1, so that it can go to the food pantry in time for the holidays. 

Last week, I read aloud at an Open Mic at Gallery 15, performing among singers and a "chalk talk" presentation by Sarah Luginbill. It was such a fun evening. I'm always amazed at people who say "there's nothing to do," but they never show up when things are going on. 

Trunk or Treats are everywhere--have you noticed? I was going to put a list here, but it got too long. Visit the Facebook page Positive Future of Peru, Indiana and find them. I love Trunk or Treats, don't you? They are gifts from those who care, and we can't have too many of them. 

Maconaquah's marching band brought home the prize from the ISSMA Scholastic state finals. We saw part of their performance--the First Place was definitely deserved. 

Borrowed from the Kokomo Tribune

We had a book-signing recently. I got to sit at a table with Debby Myers and Joe DeRozier and drink Aroma's delicious coffee and  City Wineworks' delicious white and have a DeRozier's donut while listening to Denny and Duane play. We got to talk to people. I bought cards from Sarah and talked to representatives of Anita's and Boho-Chic. We laughed a lot. 

It was, all in all, a good week. I'm sorry about the neighbor and his flag. I feel less safe in my community now and I no longer want to walk the stretch of the Nickel Plate Trail close to where he lives. I assume this is the reaction he was looking for, so, okay, he gets it from me. 

I'll miss the trees in Denver. I still miss the ones that were cut down on 1500 North when I was a kid. I never noticed if the road was actually widened, but I sure do still notice that big empty space. 

There were sad hours this week. Times I sat and stared into space and had to dig deep for happy. I was mad a few times. Hurt. Frustrated.

And it was still a good week. I hope you had one, too. Be blessed in the one coming up. And be nice to somebody. 

Stronger than we seem... by Liz Flaherty

Sometimes awful things happen. They happen to good people, to bad people, to people we've never met, and to people we love. When these things riddle the lives of others, we are sorry for them. We pray for happy endings, for release from pain, for peace. Oh, yes, please, peace. 

And sometimes awful things are said, like He got what he deserved. Or My kid (husband, wife, sister, brother) would never do anything like that. Or I wouldn't have put up with that. I'd have... Or I always knew that would happen.

Why are those things awful? Because they don't help anybody, that's why.

I mean that, what I just said there. However, it would probably be more convincing if I'd never been guilty of saying those things. If I'd never been smug about anything. 

My prayers, while no more heartfelt, might be kinder if I were never righteous when I offered them. I wonder how many times I've said I would pray for someone or their situation and then forgotten to do it. Or how many times I've pontificated on the importance of forgiveness but locked a grudge up so tightly that it can't possibly break free. 

But...

"Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages..."

Borrowed with thanks from https://www.facebook.com/perucircus/photos/

The circus starts today. Well, performances and the festival do. The months of preparation and labor started long before this. The fair was a few weeks ago, and other county fairs are sprinkling the state every week. These are things that involve kids--hundreds of them--and adults who help and encourage them. 

I have felt awfulness this week, but on Broadway in Peru, in fairgrounds exhibit halls, hope grows with all the beauty of community. Round bales and deer create still life tableaus in fields. Ice cream socials offer fellowship and friendship. There is music and art and pleasure to be heard and seen and felt.

So maybe prayers are answered--we just don't know how to listen or how to understand what the solutions are. I'm grateful for those answers among the awfulness. They make us strong, make us laugh, make us empathize and sympathize instead of saying awful things.  

Have a great week. Find hope in the detritus. Be nice to somebody. May all your days be circus days. 

Painting by Sarah Luginbill

Magic and the Lucky Ones by Liz Flaherty

...the magic's in the music and the music's in me...

I was one of the lucky ones. 

In the 1960s, there was a group called the Lovin' Spoonful. Some of them are still around, still singing--I think they even use the group name...but in the 60s, when they recorded and performed a string of hits that most of my generation can still sing along with, they were...well, magic. Their first hit was "Do You Believe in Magic?" and I think it planted a seed that has grown, so that those of us who were "the lucky ones" still believe. In the magic and the music and in our fellow human beings.

The Magic Room

Last night, in a storefront on Broadway in Peru, there was some magic going on. Dusty baker / author / all round good guy Joe DeRozier threw "a bit of a party," with a gathering of downtown business owners, some writers, and a whole bunch of people who came to laugh, talk, visit with each other, and encourage.

Sarah Luginbill

It was magic, and those of us who participated are so thankful to Joe and to all of you. 

Photo by Sarah Luginbill

Speaking of magic...

It's all around us in the spring, isn't it? It's windblown, of course. Often wet. But it's green and it smells good and little people play baseball and shout "hey, batter, batter..." and adults gather on bleachers and find common ground where they hadn't realized it existed. It does exist, all the time, in the love for the players on the field and the playground and sitting over there somewhere with their eyes and thumbs glued to their phones. 

There's magic in stories you hear. I heard one the other day at DeRozier's that's not mine to share and it's not time to share it anyway, but I'm so much richer for having heard it. I told Kathy Bunker I worked with her mother-in-law at American Stationery and once Juanita relined a coat for me because I couldn't buy a new one. The sharing of the actions of a good heart are always good stories. Kathy was glad to hear it and I was glad to talk about an old friend and a job that was a good memory. 

There's more magic in stories you tell. Hearing about the ones they've lost helps people as they grieve, whether it's at a funeral home viewing, a celebration of life, or years later when you reconnect with someone while pumping gas into your cars. Telling someone when your kid has done good or funny things (thanks, Kim Eaton), thanking them for services they provide or favors they've done, telling them they've helped you make it through a day.

My husband plays music with a couple of other guys, Denny and Gary. They are young in spirit, but they've been playing music for...a while. It was magical when they came together, because Duane was in the first band Denny ever played in before the Three Old Guys came together and Gary was in the last. Kind of serendipitous, don't you think?

Duane Flaherty, Denny See, Gary Gillund

I'm late getting this posted today. Something else magical is your support of this column. Someone last night said, "Sometimes it's good and sometimes it's even better." I think maybe he was giving me too much credit, but he also gave me a truly magic moment. A really lovin' spoonful of good feeling. Thanks to him and to all of you. I hope you're all the lucky ones. 

Have a great week. Support local business when you can. Be nice to somebody.

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

Reusing the Canvas by Liz Flaherty #WindowOvertheSink

I'm writing this on Friday, the first day of 2021. I am so excited for the New Year, even knowing hanging a new calendar in the laundry room doesn't really change anything. The pandemic is still here, politics are still ugly, and the truth seems to still be on holiday. 

It's an icy kind of day. We don't have to go anywhere, so we won't. Age has decreed that if there is more than a cupful of crushed ice on the back porch, I don't go outside. People don't retire because they can't work, I've come to realize, but because they fall down so easily. The things you learn if you live long enough!

I read a post on Facebook this morning where the writer said he hated social media. Although he was making a good point, I'm sure the irony didn't escape him that he was using a social media platform to decry its value. Many people moved their social media presence from Facebook to Parler, only to screenshot Parler messages and post them on Facebook. Hmm... 

A few days ago, on another blog, I wrote this: 

"Blank pages make me remember--and I know I'm dating myself here--new notebooks when I was a kid. Unopened packages of lined paper and crisp folders and Bic pens with clear barrels. I always got them for Christmas. If I ever wondered why I so often start new stories after the holidays, that memory is a reminder. All those blank pages and smooth ink and pocket folders that ended up containing so much of my heart."

That's how it is if you're a writer--what I wrote was no surprise to anyone who read the post. But it's how it is in other things, too. It's how you make the new plan I talked about last week. But, while it's great to be able to start with fresh paper, pens, and folders, it's not really necessary. I told artist Sarah Luginbill I was going to throw away my only wine and canvas attempt (I should have stuck with the wine and skipped the canvas) and Sarah said, "Oh, no, don't throw it away. You can still use it."

I haven't, but it was an important lesson, isn't it? Celebrating the arrival of 2021 isn't going to make 2020 go away, and we can't throw away its canvas and start over. We have do the best with what we have. We need to try to fix what's broken, not destroy it further. 

Facebook is still there, whether you hate it or not. Even if you moved your internet social life to another platform because you didn't like Facebook rules. The thing to do is use it where it adds to your life. To keep up with friends and family and grandkids in Jedi outfits. Scroll past what you don't like. If something is a lie or a threat or hate speech, by all means report it, then make sure what you post isn't a lie or a threat or hate speech. Kittens are good. 

Another way to start over without a blank page is by looking out for each other. Although I don't want to fall down--it hurts and I don't bounce well--it will likely happen. I like knowing if there is anyone near, they will help me up or call for help if it's necessary. It won't matter if they liked my Facebook posts or the fact that this column occasionally beats what seems to be a dead horse.  

I can't say I'm sure of where this post was supposed to go, but I don't think it got there. I appreciate your patience with sticking with it--and me. I'll try to do better next time, reusing the canvas...

Have a great week. Be careful on the ice. Be nice to somebody.