A WORKING VACATION

A series of essays.....

DAN AFTER A LONG, HARD, AND
HIGHLY PRODUCTIVE WEEK OF CONSTRUCTION

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Never doubting Dan's ability to create something out of sticks and stones, using hammer and nails, and topping it all off with waterproof membrane and shingles, we headed up north two weeks ago so that he could do just that.....

Riding in his Ford F-150 is comfortable and practical, too, because we had so much 'stuff' to haul up in the cab including tools, kitchen floor tiles, and bits and pieces from our house in Orlando that would lighten the experience of moving when that time comes. Let's not even discuss the amount of books that will be involved in this move. Downsizing from a twenty-four hundred square foot home after having lived here for over twenty years will be no small feat, I assure you!

FOUNDATION OF NEW FLOOR SPACE

BUILDING UP THE NEW FLOOR

COMBINING NEW WITH OLD FLOOR

NEW FLOOR DECK

The running gag that epitomizes his eventual retirement and our move up to Michigan is, "I need my kitchen. I'll move up when my kitchen is finished." Janis, my sweet friend from high school days, could tell you how often I've referenced that phrase over the past year. Well, we're diligently working on my kitchen now and that brings our immediate future into a proper perspective. Our 'little yellow cottage' is, finally, taking shape and we now have the bruises, swollen ankles and lingering fatigue to prove it! All done with love, of course.

Driving straight through for over nineteen hours isn't the most pleasant experience, however, it gets us there in good time with our own bed waiting for us at the cottage. The first evening was spent at our friends' home in nearby Richland where we feasted on exceptional cuisine, drank a crisp French white, and basked in the warmth of meaningful conversation and the comfort of good friendship. It was a delightful way to begin our week and we thank you, dearly, Michael and Marsha.

REMOVING 1941 KITCHEN

By Sunday morning we were raring to begin. After all, it was 'demo day!' The old kitchen had to go and that twenty yard dumpster taking up space in our small driveway needed to be filled up. Demolishing a kitchen from the 1941 era is no small task considering the multi-layers of flooring  and stuff in general contributed by multiple owners and time itself. By the time the dust settled and the tons of trash was hauled out by hand from the back of the house to the dumpster out front, we called it a day....well spent.

Leo, Dan's younger brother, was scheduled to arrive from the Traverse City area to help out and we welcomed him with open arms early Monday afternoon. Considering that Leo had, virtually, no experience in construction before, it was a joy to see him and Dan working so well together, side-by-side. He was Dan's 'left-handed' wonder because many of the spaces Dan couldn't reach as well, Leo was there to pound away using his left-handed prowess. 

That first day of measuring, sawing, and hammering away left the deck covered in inches of sawdust and various sizes of wood scraps and bent nails. But their progress was phenomenal! Dan and I had decided to expand the existing kitchen out and doubling its size by utilizing a summer porch at the back of the house. This new portion of the kitchen will have a nine foot ceiling and expand up, as well as out further enhancing the size of the room. I love it!

COTTAGE ON A HILL

GUYS HARD AT WORK

ALWAYS REMOVING
THE OLD LAYERS

Tuesday we met Dan and Leo's cousin, Gerry, whom we hadn't seen in years, for lunch. She is an amazing person and she and I, unabashedly, refer to one another as our CBM or, cousin-by-marriage and I thank Facebook for opening up the doors of communication for all of the long, lost CBM's and others who are roaming around out there in the world hoping to reconnect with family and friends.

RAISING WALL NUMBER ONE

WALL NUMBER TWO

CONSTRUCTING
WALL NUMBER THREE

We were blessed with exceptionally good Michigan weather each day until Friday rolled around, the day Leo was to leave, and it began to rain and the temperature dipped down into the fifties. I believe the turn in the weather proved to be Dan's nemesis as it instantly took a vengeful bite out of his stamina and spirit and accentuated the toll his week-long physical labor had taken on him. The dark circles beneath his eyes told me that the plans we had to meet friends for dinner in downtown Kalamazoo that night might have slid into the 'optional' category considering how exhausted he was. It was, literally, his call and he did call to, unfortunately, cancel our dinner plans. 

COMFORT ON A CHILLY
MICHIGAN NIGHT

We did what was necessary and got something light to eat, started a roaring fire in the stone clad fireplace, and cuddled beneath a pale green afghan on the living room couch. We talked about the week's activities as we luxuriated in the warmth given off by the dancing flames and listened to the crackle of our nurturing fire. Dan needed down time and this opportunity was perfect.

PLACING PLYWOOD OVER HIS
HANDMADE RAFTERS

GLAD THEY'RE NOT
AFRAID OF HEIGHTS

THIS NEW KITCHEN IS
GOING TO BE AMAZING!!!

No, work was not over yet! This new bump on the back of the house needed to be wrapped, sealed and protected head to toe from potential rain and bad weather and we spent hours nailing plastic sheathing around its belly and a thicker plastic membrane atop its head (pitched roof) before we could call it a day. I don't know where Dan found the strength to go roof climbing and yielding additional hammer swings, but he did. Necessity has its way of working things out.

By the time we cleaned up after our endeavors, showered, packed-up, and headed over to our daughter's house, all I could think about was having to drive back home to Orlando with the idea that Dan wanted to be back to work bright and early on Monday morning. Having left a bit later than originally planned Sunday, we pulled into our driveway around four o'clock on Monday morning. We slept soundly until around nine when we crawled out of bed to shower, make coffee and I was saying good-bye to Dan and watching him drive away for work by nine forty-five. 

BROTHERS ~ DAN AND LEO AFTER A JOB WELL DONE

I know for a fact that Dan could not have accomplished all that he did last week without the capable assistance of his brother. Leo was more than happy to learn what he could from his older brother about construction and Dan was grateful for his younger brother's determination, input, and stamina. What a team! Thank you for being there, Leo.

Although Dan's retirement from his current position with Roger B. Kennedy Construction remains to be determined and, while he is keeping all of his options open for the time being, he has proven once again how determined, flexible, and loyal he is as a team member for Kennedy. Dan's work ethic has always been based on his strong moral principles and I, for one, have been very proud of him for this.

Bottom line....that was our vacation. It was a bit different than last year's when we spent ten days experiencing the history, people, terrain, and exquisite beauty of the South of France. But, that's okay. As a team, we continue dreaming, hoping, planning, and balancing out our lives so that the future will hold many more adventures for us. One of the greatest adventures of all will be, eventually, becoming a pivotal part of the Kalamazoo community, meeting new friends, always appreciating current friends, enjoying our grandchildren, and thriving in our 'little yellow cottage.' 

EVEN AN ACORN FROM ONE OF THE OAK TREES IN
THE BACKYARD SEEMS PERFECT TO ME!

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

Photos Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

FRIENDSHIP NEVER FADES

 A series of essays.....

ENJOYING TIME TOGETHER IN CELEBRATION, FLORIDA

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Friendship may seem to disappear for a little while but, it never fades away into oblivion. Human nature does not forget the strong bond that is formed between friends, even when circumstances can tuck it away into the folds of time, only to resurface once again as strong and beautiful as ever.

The soft clinking sound of one crystal wine glass tapping another, coupled with yet another toast to health, good cheer, and priceless friendship renewed, still rings in my ears. I sit here this morning, i-Pad on my lap, feeling just a little bit lonely; a tiny bit sad. Our friends have moved on to the second phase of their Floridian excursion before traveling back home to Michigan, but their laughter continues to reverberate, sweetly, in my head.

I met Janis the year my parents decided to make the move up to Three Rivers, Michigan from Terre Haute, Indiana in order to help my grandparents run the laundry and dry cleaning establishment they had built-up through the years. It meant that we'd finally be settling down in one place instead of changing towns and schools every year to follow my dad's employment with the Sinclair Oil Corporation and Quaker State Motor Oil Companies. 

It turned out to be one of the best years of my life!

Thrust into an high school environment as an eighth grader, it was easy to see how, at a very young age, we were influenced by the upperclassmen. Back in the day, Three Rivers High School included an eighth-grade program. We had to learn to blend in with everybody in order to survive. Janis and I had several classes together, shared a sense of adventure, understood the importance of study ethics, and maintained Honor Roll status throughout our high school careers! We just clicked, immediately.

Even though we moved on to different colleges upon graduation from TRHS, we always kept in touch and visited one another at Alma College, Janis' alma mater, and, ultimately, Michigan State University, for me. 

Janis, eventually, moved to East Lansing, Michigan and I invited her to move into the apartment I had been sharing with several girlfriends I had, initially, met on campus while living at Shaw Hall. And, it just so happened that a really nice looking guy from Jackson, Michigan lived in the apartment above us with several other roommates. Well, Janis and Fred began dating one another and, as the old adage goes, the rest is history, folks!

Dan and I had been dating while I still lived in the dorm on campus and he had already moved to a house apartment located on Evergreen, north of Grand River Avenue, the main street that runs through East Lansing. The four of us hung-out together quite often during this time. 

Well, let's just say that Janis wore a gorgeous shade of pink as a bridesmaid at our wedding and I.....well, I served as an 'honorary bridesmaid' at hers two years later because I had been considerably pregnant at the time. It was not my desire to draw any attention away from the actual ceremony by waddling down the church aisle along with the wedding party. But, we were there, once again, cheering each other on as life took its course, babies were born, addresses changed, and challenges arose.

SO MANY MEMORIES.....!

Not long afterward, Dan and I had ensconced ourselves in the life rhythms of the small town of Eaton Rapids. Fred and Janis, not far away in Holt, located just south of East Lansing, were raising their young family. But, as I've stated before, life has a tendency of getting in the way.....even when involving strong friendships. New faces emerge from each new experience until old friends get tucked away as creative memories drifting through time like colorful autumn leaves wistfully navigating their earthbound flights.

My path was to follow Dan down here to Orlando, Florida after our youngest daughter, Corinne, completed her freshman year at Michigan State. Our oldest daughter, Alexandria, was interning at Walt Disney World at the time and, eventually, was employed full-time in Procurement in the business offices at WDW. Somehow, someway....twenty plus years have transpired, Dan is responsible for building quite a few multi-family apartment projects in the area, and Orlando has become our established home.

LITTLE, YELLOW COTTAGE

Now, both of our children reside in Kalamazoo/Portage, Michigan along with their own families and we have come to realize that moving back to Michigan after retirement, to be with them, is going to be the next chapter in our lives. We have begun to establish ourselves within this amazing community by purchasing the cutest, little house ever built in Kalamazoo!! Well, at least we think so. Built in 1941, our little yellow cottage is a work in progress but, a project based on the sheer joy of rejuvenating this small gem into a comfortable home where grandchildren are always welcome and cookies will certainly be baking in the oven....!

Returning to Michigan, even on a part-time basis for the past few years, has changed us forever and, in a very good way. Yes, we share in our children's lives ten times more than before, which has, in turn, enhanced our sense of well-being and balance. We are enriching our outlook on life through the power of the arts with so much credit going out to our friend, Michael, and his adorable wife, Marsha. Michael, a local artist and architect, along with Marsha, a librarian/writer in the town of Portage for many years, have greatly changed our lives for the better. Together, they have proven to us that Kalamazoo has so much to offer through the local talent of painters, writers, sculptors, poets, educators, and more, all intertwined to help create a Mecca for other artists willing to immerse themselves in their particular activity or interest.

Right before we made the solid commitment to Kalamazoo by purchasing a second home, something absolutely brilliant happened! I was invited to lunch. Not just any lunch, either. Several old friends from high school got together at a local restaurant, Food Dance, in downtown Kalamazoo (I like typing that word!) and, low and behold, Janis and I sat there, side-by-side, having lunch together after all of these years!

The amazing part was that only a few moments in, she and I were talking and acting as though the time that had passed between us had never seemed to matter. We picked-up where we'd left off and our friendship began to blossom once more. Like a flower in springtime, the colors of friendship were bright and stunning, with stems as strong as a long-stem rose, and the possibilities, endless. Conversation flowed. Goodness knows we had a few years to catch-up on.

JANIS AND FRED

Today I sit on my living room couch brooding because they have come and they have already gone. The four of us had such a wonderful few days together. Jan and Fred enjoyed the tour of our beautiful, albeit spread-out, adopted home, Orlando, and the surrounding area. After the laughing, crying, reminiscing, and partaking in good food and spirits....our house is quiet again. The 'battery fed' clocks hanging on our walls tick-and-tock into my subconscious like they never do when this house is full of people and uncontrolled laughter. Just as it did this past holiday season when all of our children were here celebrating and filling-up the bedrooms with their pleasant nighttime breathing.

Hairstyles may be notably shorter and interspersed with grays, as only our hairstylists know for sure, and minute lines collect on our faces like soft, Victorian lace denoting character and a full life, but the soul.....ah, the soul and a person's spirit never really changes at all. Time passes before us controlling our ultimate destinies, but in what manner and for how long we choose to communicate with those we share breath with is entirely up to us. 

Janis and I have always shared the spirit for living, enjoyed the world around us, and spread as much love as possible to everyone, near and far. That will never change. They will return here, as we will travel north to share more time with them. It is inevitable. It is fate. It is written in the stars.

However, in the meantime, oh, how I wish we didn't have so many 'battery fed' clocks hanging in this house!

JOY!

Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

SAYING "I LOVE YOU" FOR THE ONE HUNDREDTH TIME

A series of journeys.....

THE ROAD WELL TRAVELED

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

We can all agree by now that life is an amazing journey filled with wanderlust, new beginnings, healthy lifestyle alternatives, brilliant stories, and interesting people lining the entire path. And, if we are fortunate enough, some will join us walking hand-in-hand every step of the way.

Today I am celebrating my one hundredth post on Moving On.....2015.  I am thinking how I'd like to gather each story in my arms and go with a huge 'Group Hug' right now, briefly pat myself on the back, and then tell myself to regroup and go create, at least, one hundred more!

Each time I post a story, I am sharing a part of me with all of you. It may be about a fleeting moment in time well spent chasing a dream or, in many cases, fulfilling a lifelong goal. I am opinionated and informative at the same time and serve to seek out your own thought-provoking ideas while encouraging stimulating discussions. No matter what the particular topic may be each week, every essay, collection, book review, conversation, and story is my way of telling the world just how much I love being a part of this process called LIFE....




In celebration of this particular milestone, I choose to thank several entities that have directed me along my own journey and honor each with a few short paragraphs of appreciation. If you have been following 'the ride' with me, you will recognize them. If you've recently joined my personal excursion into life's abundance and joy....you will delight in the emotions that have fueled my work and exposed my passions. The greatest of these is Love.

SANTA HAS VISITED IN THE NIGHT

Portage, Michigan: December 25, 2013

This morning, Christmas morning, has been blessed with feather-like snowflakes dancing around just beyond the mullioned window and resembling tiny ballerinas drifting down from the clouds. I have made my way downstairs a bit early so that I can prepare and place my breakfast quiche into the hot oven to bake. I am hoping the delicate aroma will tempt everyone downstairs soon...as if the prospect of opening Santa's goodies from beneath the tree isn't enticement enough.

ADRIAN O'CONNOR

Doolin, County Clare, Ireland: Adrian O'Connor, October, 2013

Adrian stood and told us he would be right back, as if, suddenly, remembering the kettle was on. He returned within moments carrying a small set of pipes that appeared as old and craggy as our dear friend. Okay, so I could barely make out his face four songs later due to the tears freely flowing from my eyes. I knew, as sure as the Irish sun was shining down upon us, as precious as the memory of a grandchild's kiss, as blissful as an invigorating walk through a green-splashed forest on a Sunday morning.....we were in the midst of a power so great and strong, it was bigger than all of us. Yet, it was all of us combined. Love isn't complicated. You just have to be aware of it with every breath you take. My 'tears of happiness' equaled nothing short of pure peace and solace in my life. Thank you my friend.....

MY FAVORITE PICTURE I
HAVE TAKEN OF LA TOUR EIFFEL

Paris, France: Any day of the year!!

So many remarkable stories fill my mind when I look at the amazing buildings of Paris! The flavors and tastes of Paris all enriched by her sumptuous beauty…just waiting to be unwrapped over and over again by ‘fresh eyes’ and open hearts! To stand on the balcony overlooking the quintessential icon of Paris, La Tour Eiffel, as I kiss the one I love so deeply, excites me beyond belief! It would be a privilege to call this place ‘our home,’ even for a moment in time, and immerse ourselves within the power and beauty of the most delicious city in the world! My heart has already arrived….

SAILING SHIPS OF WHITE LIGHT

Orlando, Florida: Joe Bonamassa Concert, December 19, 2014

Color creates moods; color changes moods. Color evokes memories and, in turn, produces responses from those memories. Yet, color is timeless. Color is ageless. It can be yesterday, today, or tomorrow and ebb and flow offering irregular outlines that shift like the seas with the tide.

Soft, powdery blues mixed with powerful beams of bright, white light spotlighted Joe and turned the stage into an extraterrestrial-like encounter as this eclectic mixture of talented musicians delivered an intricately textured, unplugged experience. At one point, the white illumination resembled sailing ships carrying the music across an imaginary sea and back to Europe, the place which lent its vintage flair to this acoustic blues set.

Nostalgia: February 5, 2015

Nostalgia, my old friend....  Why must I always find you lurking in the vast recesses of my mind, waiting, waiting for my vulnerability to emerge? Wrap me in your rose-tinted veil so that I may see all that I long for once more. Seduce me with your false promises and drown this present feeling of 'hope lost' so that I may smile and feel whole once again, if only for a short while.

EVA IBBOTSON

"I want to live like music sounds.": About author Eva Ibbotson, January 22, 2015

My journey into the life of this interesting female author began because of a quote online that struck me as one of the best 'writing prompts' I'd seen in a long while. Spoken by her character, Ruth, in the novel, The Morning Gift, Eva Ibbotson wrote, "I want to live like music sounds." There's something quite magical in this statement. How does this interesting quote affect you? Are you conjuring up all sorts of pictures in your head right now as I am? From the four most recognized notes (Big Bang Introduction) of Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 to the haunting dirge called A Prayer sung by Madeleine Peyroux from her album Dreamland.....and all of that 'life' filling in the huge area in between, our lives are surrounded by the sounds, noise, and notes that swirl and collect around us every moment of our existence!

Patriotism: July 2, 2015

PATRIOTISM conjures up the image of tri-corner hats and the courageous warnings of an American silversmith and engraver. The vivid impression of a loved one marching off to protect and defend with the pending separation beating life's blood rhythmically between kindred hearts. "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.....!" The school day begins with white stars in a backdrop of deepest blue and broad red and white stripes etched against the industrial green walls of the classroom. Who doesn't recall, at some point in time, the irregular rhythm of halyard and snap hooks clanging against a metal flagpole just outside of an office building or in the schoolyard on a breezy day?

THE LOST ART OF COMMUNICATION ~~ SPEECH

Waterford Lakes, Florida: June 6, 2014

The foyer of the restaurant was comparatively small, just enough room to allow several people respite from a summer shower, if need be. The six of us occupying this enclosed, hollowed space created an unusual feeling of quietness after a few minutes. As we sat comparing notes in whispered tones on our side of the space, it was apparent that silence prevailed on the opposite side.

Texting a friend? Checking her messages? Deleting unnecessary emails? Checking game scores? Absolute quiet. With silent keyboards, there wasn't even the sound of 'clicking' to stir-up the atmosphere. Were we witnessing a complete disregard for the unique enjoyment of interacting with those physically close to us? Exchanging human contact with cyber interfacing instead? With minds compartmentalized by their own devices, mother and daughter, husband and wife, sat silently, deep within their private worlds.....for a very long time.

LEA LISTENING TO SOUND INFORMATION
FROM SHOP CLERK

Cocoa Village, Florida: September 25, 2015

Timeline: September 15, 1997
Google.com is registered as a domain. The name....a play on the word "googol," a mathematical term for the number represented by the numeral 1 followed by 100 zeroes, reflects Google's mission to organize and seemingly infinite amount of information on the web.

Timeline: September 25, 2015
Today I am being formally introduced to the quaint and beautiful little area known as Cocoa Village. Hidden in the midst of hundred-year-old oak trees along the banks of the Indian River, this community dates back to the 1860's. Having lived a mere thirty minutes away for nearly twenty years, why am only discovering this Historic Village now?

Because of my new, dear friends, Lea and Dave, whole new vistas have opened up for me. After enjoying coffee and conversation at Ossorio Bakery & Cafe on Brevard Avenue, Lea took me on a tour of the village, introducing me to shop owners, spoiling me with small, 'unusual' gifts, and making me feel like her beloved sister come to visit from around the world! I not only enjoyed the enchanting Southern experience, but my unselfish host made me feel like a 'Queen for a Day!'

Later we met up with Dave to experience a 'Diner' extravaganza for lunch. Good food and excellent company.....near perfection! Dave, a Mathematician, Engineer, and thirty-five year military veteran, enlightened me as to the interrelationship between Google.com and the mathematical term, 'googol,' for which I am exceedingly grateful.

Lea is trying to convince me to broaden my horizons and dabble in becoming a playwright. The funny part is that I am seriously thinking about it.

Our day together sadly came to an end and I found myself driving back up the 520 to connect with the Beachline Expressway and back home to Orlando. Conveniently, perhaps subconsciously, I left my umbrella in their car. Not that this act was needed to pull me back to this lovely area or into the company of these amazing friends. That will happen again soon. When one finds treasures such as this, you keep 'them' nearby for the rest of your life....

LOOKING UP AT  'BENBAUN'
THE PEAK OF DIAMOND HILL
IN CONNEMARA

Next week I will begin posting my second hundred stories. I can't help but wonder what intimate and surprising roads they will lead me down.



Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

"WHEN I PAINT MY MASTERPIECE"

A series of essays.....

BOB DYLAN AROUND 1971

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Upon my return home after ten fabulous days in Michigan with my children and five amazing grandchildren, I discover that our Bright House DVR (Digital Video Recorder) has reached an all time high of eighty-three percent!! What? How can that be?

I know that we record many good shows each week and tend to watch them within twenty-four hours so as not to collect them for extended periods of time. With my absence, those hours filled our seemingly controlled void rather quickly. The Voice was the main culprit and, considering this season was soon to wrap-up, there were several taped hours to catch-up on before the finale on Tuesday evening.

One of my favorite contestants, a home-grown Michigan boy who attended Michigan State University and now lives in Traverse City, Michigan, Joshua Davis, performed a song written by Bob Dylan in 1971 entitled "When I Paint My Masterpiece." Dan and I have retained all of our albums from "back in the day" and I vividly recalled this particular cut off of Bob's Greatest Hits, Volume II album. It was first released by the group The Band who covered the song on their album Cahoots. This song has always held a soft spot in my heart because it represented a young, aspiring, female writer who had nothing but the entire world to roam around, play in and write about in her future. The world was a blank canvas and she was going to make sure it didn't stay that way for very long.....

I was just out of college, single, and the world truly was my oyster.

BEAUTIFUL DYLAN

Listening to Joshua sing the lyrics so beautifully brought back memories of people attempting to second guess Dylan's intentions specifying his conspiracy implications, witch hunts, and turning the Spanish Steps in Rome into code for more clandestine operations. Okay. Our minds can translate almost anything into whatever we want them to be. I never bought into it. I like to think my explanation reached a more personal and straight-forward dimension called....reality.  Hopes, dreams, and the power and sadness of love, for me, inspired Bob Dylan's words in "When I Paint My Masterpiece":


"Oh, the streets of Rome are filled with rubble
Ancient footprints are everywhere
You can almost think that you're seein' double
On a cold, dark night on the Spanish Stairs

Got to hurry on back to my hotel room
Where I've got me a date with Botticelli's niece
She promised that she'd be right there with me
When I paint my masterpiece

Oh, the hours I've spent inside the Coliseum
Dodging lions and wastin' time
Oh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see 'em
Yes, it sure has been a long, hard climb

Train wheels runnin' through the back of my memory
As the daylight hours do retreat
Someday, everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody
When I paint my masterpiece

I left Rome and landed in Brussels
With a picture of a tall oak tree by my side
Clergymen in uniform and young girls pullin' muscles
Everyone was there but nobody tried to hide

Newspapermen eating candy
Had to be held down by big police
Someday, everything is gonna be diff'rent
When I paint my masterpiece"

Lyrics © BOB DYLAN MUSIC CO



Listening to this song again, after so many years have passed, brought me back into the present. I thought about the trip I had just returned from and all of my interactions with the five young lives that teach me more about life, love, and myself than anything else could on a daily basis. Five bright stars out-shining the billions of others as they float dream-like in the heavens above. Their light is so bright it hurts my heart and brings tears to my eyes. Arms hug me so tight, my muscles ache and sweet, sugary kisses bless my lips with a thousand calories of loving deliciousness. Heaven.

MEMORIES FROM THE FARM

Thanks to a very dear friend of mine and her gracious husband, Farmer Fred, my children, grandchildren and I discovered the daily workings of an active sheep farm that was surrounded by lush, forested, and rolling Michigan acreage. The 'little ones' took turns steering the enormous John Deere as their small shapes were comfortably ensconced within the distinct glow of green and yellow paint, and Cheshire Cat smiles. The quintessential white Amish farmhouse rose high above the sweet lambs hopping in the green meadow below. And, the cherry on top was the huge, multi-level barn, home to the mighty rams and celebrated 'ancient ones.'  It was built by hand decades upon decades before, painted barn-red over and over again and houses unimaginable treasures, unpublished memories, from within its dusty, shadowy nooks and crevices. Truly a writer's delight!

"HOME TO THE MIGHTY RAMS AND
CELEBRATED ANCIENT ONES"

A simple trip to the Mall to ride the double-decker carousel over and over again turns into a journey. Pretending to capture a jungle excursion on the back of a giant gorilla, one grandson straddles the 'giant beast' as the other rides his zebra along the vast Serengeti Plain while the sun sets over a Masai village in Tanzania.




SERENGETI PLAIN



A ROMP THROUGH THE JUNGLE

Our imagination is captured by the miracle of flight when we visit the Air Zoo in Kalamazoo. My youngest granddaughter harnesses her inner Amelia Earhart in order to fly solo across the concrete floor in her shiny, blue machine.

SOLO FLIGHT

Mother's Day memories are captured on three smart phones while fingers and toes are painted bright, Easter egg colors at a nearby Spa.  Three amazing women can only just sit now while their bodies imbibe delight through every pore as they enjoy one another's company.  Relax my beautiful Daughters and Mothers in your own right. Relax because the world often just gets in the way.

CELEBRATING MOTHER'S DAY

Birthday celebrations were in order for my oldest granddaughter who turned eight years old during my visit. Oh, and did I happen to mention that she lost yet another tooth on her birthday eve? What a busy, wonderful time!

 

Bob Dylan wrote his song about all of the above....and, a little bit more.

He wrote about the struggles and emotional journey we all endure in order to find what makes us whole....our own masterpiece called 'True Love.'

He wrote about the artist striving to create his 'masterpiece' while self-doubt, disillusionment, and time nips at his heels. It's about filling a hole in our soul and discovering the power of faith, hope, and love.

He wrote about feeling the disappointment of allowing time to slip through our fingers while our masterpiece sits, incomplete. The awakening is when we realize, after all this time, that along each journey we decide to take, every story our life writes, and all the people we meet and love along the way, each one helps to complete our masterpiece. In the end, our personal masterpiece is our own legacy handed down to each life we have touched; each life that has touched us in return.

In Dylan's case, it was about the task of growing-up and simply observing his own maturity. He stopped talking strictly about his 'social world' and began speaking in terms of personal growth. "Yes, it sure has been a long, hard climb," he writes.

His whirlwind tour of Europe among a post-religious era fills him with a strong sense of the practical secularism sweeping through Europe at the time. A new Enlightenment looms on the horizon and this 'golden thread' weaves its way into Dylan's new world. He anticipates his future, at home, when the time will come for the hero to finally take the time to paint his masterpiece.

For myself.....  As I grow more comfortable in my own new world of Enlightenment, self-love and respect for the Earth and all of mankind that walks her fragrant meadows and dusty trails alike, I am that much closer to achieving all of my goals in this lifetime; my personal masterpiece.

My favorite line of this song has to be, "Someday, everything is gonna be smooth like a rhapsody when I paint my masterpiece." I wonder if Dylan has achieved this goal yet. As long as we are breathing, everything remains possible.



Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

WHO ARE YOU CARL SANDBURG?

 A series of essays.....

A TRUE LOVE STORY: CARL AND LILIAN SANDBURG 
Photographed by Edward Steichen, Brother of Lilian 

.....From a letter to his wife in 1908:

" I would rather be a poem like you than write poems.  I would rather embody the big things as you do than carve or paint or write them.  You inspire art....and that's living!"





.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes



Recently, a thirty-something and I were discussing my travels up to North Carolina a few weeks back when she asked me, "Now, exactly who is Carl Sandburg?  I know I've heard of him in school but, I can't place who he is or what he's done?!?"

Did I bristle at this lack of recall?  Well, maybe just a little.  The truth is.....the question had been posed and I was more than willing to fill-in the blanks!

It all began when we saw, yet again, along Highway 26, just south of Hendersonville, North Carolina, the sign reading, 'Carl Sandburg Home, National Historic Site.'  "Please tell me why we see this sign going up to Maggie Valley but never take the time to stop?" I seriously asked my husband.  "I truthfully don't know," Dan replied.  "Maybe we will on the way back home this Sunday if we leave right after breakfast."  Sounded good to me!

Carl Sandburg

Robert Frost

Growing-up learning to love literature and poetry as much as I do, two tousled, gray-haired gentlemen, authors by trade, have always guided me down a path of awakening and simple joy via their passion and love of the written word.  Thinking back now, I believe that Robert Frost and Carl Sandburg epitomized the quintessential 'Grandfather' figure for me as I was voraciously reading, reading, reading everything written by them in order to satiate my lust for poetry and prose. 

Both men were still alive in my early lifetime and each worked hard as a teacher and a journalist, a farmer and a factory worker, as they struggled to make ends meet, and continued to write and contribute their works to the world for all to enjoy.  Physically, I believe, these distinguished men resembled one another as the years progressed giving them an uncanny feeling of 'brothers' in a literal and symbolical sense. 

Seven Pulitzer Prize awards are shared by these 'Literary Brothers' with Robert Lee Frost earning four within the years 1924 to 1943 for his poetry collections.  Carl August Sandburg achieved three awards from 1919 to 1951.  Two Pulitzers were awarded for his collections of poetry, The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg and Corn Huskers.  In 1940 he won the Pulitzer Prize for History for his biography of Abraham Lincoln entitled (Abraham Lincoln: The War Years).

A strong Michigan connection can be attributed to both men, as well. In 1921 Frost accepted a fellowship teaching post at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, where he resided until 1927 when he returned to teach at Amherst. While teaching at the University of Michigan, he was awarded a lifetime appointment at the University as a Fellow in Letters.  The Robert Frost Ann Arbor home was purchased by The Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, Michigan and relocated to the museum's Greenfield Village site for public tours. 

Stollaway Cottage in Harbert, Michigan

Carl Sandburg and his wife, Lilian Steichen, purchased a home in Harbert, Michigan, located in Berrien County, where they lived with their three daughters, Margaret, Helga and Janet along the beautiful Lake Michigan shoreline.  Carl Sandburg Library first opened in Livonia, Michigan, on December 10, 1961. The name was recommended by the Library Commission as an example of an American author representing the best of literature of the Midwest. Carl Sandburg had taught at the University of Michigan for a time.




Sandburg Family

Eventually, the Sandburg family claimed that the Midwest's cold winter temps and the lack of owning enough property for Lilian to raise her prize-winning milk goats for the making and selling of domestic goat cheese brought them to a small slice of heaven in the North Carolina town of Flat Rock. 

Connemara With Family Home Off In The Distance

Having just parked the car and now luxuriating in the early October sunshine of this beautiful late Sunday morning, we walked down the small, stone path leading to the Sandburg home.  Affectionately called 'Connemara' due to the rolling green hills surrounding the main structures, there were ponds, trails and wide-open spaces scattered among the over two-hundred acre estate.  After crossing a bridge spanning a large pond, we enjoyed a short, tree-lined walk up to the main house.  "Shall we take the half-an-hour tour of the house?" I asked, knowing that our time was limited.  "I think we can do it," my husband graciously replied.  He knew this meant so much to me.




Our Docent, James

Our docent, James, was a treasure, making us laugh, answering our questions and enabling us to immerse ourselves in the amazing history behind the four walls, as well as intimately discovering the colorful people who lived, loved and thrived within them.  He allowed our little group to see and understand that real people had celebrated birthdays and holidays here; read the newspaper while sipping their coffee; laughed and cried in good times and bad.  When you are asked to 'Support America's National Parks,' people like James make it easy to do so!






Mishmash Room

Looking into one of the upstairs rooms, I discovered a mishmash of stacked boxes, filled bookshelves living on the floor and furniture pieces in disarray.  James told us that even though the family slept in the remaining four bedrooms upstairs, this room still housed most of the Michigan items brought here from their home in Harbert that Lilian failed to unpack.  "You wouldn't find a room like this at Biltmore," he said, grinning at me.  "This place, for now, is the 'real deal.'  You are among the final few to see this place as it exactly was when the Sandburg family resided here.  Next month it will be completely packed-up and everything stored in order to allow workmen to repair and restore the structure.  We are looking at reopening mid-2015, if we're lucky."

I knew it.....I knew it!  This visit was meant to be! 






This is where he wrote....!!!!!

Enjoying the luxury of taking pictures in every room of the house, I was able to capture its ageless spirit!  We stood one thin, swagging rope line away from everything!  I heard the giddy girl I felt like that day saying things like, "He sat on that chair and typed on those keys!" and, "This is the guitar and piano he composed his music on!" or, running my hand gently along the multitude of books on shelves in any given room in the house, "These are the volumes he collected and read!"  The essence of his being infused within the hardwoods of each floorboard he walked on seeped up and into my soul and enlightened me with each step I took.  I was truly a writer in a 'candy store' of endless possibilities, hopes and dreams.



Sandburg Formal Living Room



Our small group crowded into one of the last rooms we were to learn about on our tour that day.  Located on the ground floor and incorporating a beautiful bay window seating area and a lavender area rug sprinkled with a Spring flower motif, was the room Carl Sandburg had passed away in.  The year was 1967, July 22 to be exact.  He had lived 89 years among us and 'represented the best of literature of the Midwest,'......of the world, in my lifetime.  It was the summer between my junior and senior year of high school.  I stood in this room a few extra minutes letting everything sink in.

Lilian's Handbag

Books Everywhere!

"Thank you for finally stopping in Flat Rock," I told Dan as we climbed back into our car for the seven hour drive to Orlando.  "Wouldn't have missed it for the world, Kiddo!" he said smiling at me. 

Doing a bit of research on the Sandburg cottage located in Harbert, Michigan, I discovered that the family lived there from 1928 until 1945.  During their time in this beautiful home overlooking Lake Michigan, Sandburg wrote many of his poems, as well as his two-volume biography of Abraham Lincoln. 

Today the Sandburg Cottage is a rental resort called The Stollaway and the listing companies, HomeAway and VRBO (Vacation Rentals by Owner), decidedly omit any mention of the cottage's historical import within the description of the property.  I am sure they have their reasons.  I wonder how many of the world-wide travelers enjoying the property each glorious Michigan summer are aware of its historical and literary importance?! 

Kitchen At Connemara Home

Thank goodness Lilian Sandburg was determined to preserve her husband's legacy and home in Flat Rock, North Carolina!  Following his death in 1967, she gave her support to North Carolina Congressman Roy Taylor and Secretary of the Interior Stewart Udall in authorizing the Carl Sandburg Home as a National Park. The park was officially authorized on October 17, 1968 and the property was sold with its contents and cultural resources donated to the park service. The site officially opened in 1974.

Who are you, Carl Sandburg?  This is how I would answer this question:

You are the echo of the typewriter keys clicking away morning, noon and night.....The shadow behind the birch tree high up in the mountains just waiting for the right moment to emerge.....The spirit of my beautiful Chicago, the crystal blue Lake Michigan shoreline and the majestic, purple mist shrouding the Smoky Mountain ridge lines off in the distance.  You are my past, present and future and the Grandfather I wish I had known.  You are my mentor...my guide into the world I find so fascinating and most compelling.

Many thanks to both yourself and Mr. Frost for always being here for me.....





Connemara Mountainside Home

View From Front Porch

Copyright © 2014 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved