A Needed, but Unwanted Sacrifice

I am torn.

I hate decisions like this. 

The Folk Festival is my dilemma. 

For the past 56 years, the Springs Folk Festival has been a vibrant part of this small community known as Springs.  This Fall time Festival depicts life as it once was, a life full of hard work and struggles, but yet with a simplicity that so seldom can be found today. Celebrating a lifestyle that individuals and families took pride in as they built their town and invested in its future, the Folk Festival showcases the time-honored crafts and skills that it took to survive in the rocky hills of Western Pennsylvania. 

I love going to the Festival. Why?

     -The smell of crisp Autumn leaves underfoot on the woodland trail.

     -The smell of bread baked in an outdoor oven mingled with the spicy scent of apple butter.

     -Hot Navy Bean Soup.

     -The whirr of a motor cranking out an incredible amount of homemade ice-cream.

     -Bluegrass banjos, fiddles, and mandolins filling the air with the sounds of American heritage.

     -People in costume befitting their craft of choice.

     -Wandering through crowded buildings, perusing the needlework, artwork, jewelry, calligraphy...

     -Eating smoked sausages and home-fried potatoes

     -Being a part of the play that tells a few of the stories from 100-150 years ago

Being a part of the play...

The dilemma. 

For the past three years, my youngsters and I have played the parts of Katie, Salome, Moses, Hans, Elizabeth, Arminta, Susanna, Rhoda, and a gossipy woman going to the store. It started with my children being asked to help, and as I rehearsed the post office scene, reading the part of Arminta, the part just became mine. I grew to admire this strong woman; a family woman with a head for business and a no-nonsense attitude. She picked gallons, and I mean hundreds of gallons, of huckleberries up on Mt. Davis in some harsh conditions. Arminta worked hard for her family and although I only know her through the pages of The Casselman Chronicle, I feel in a little way that I know her by having had the privilege of playing her part. 

From that beginning three years ago, I have helped rewrite some of the scenes, adding new ones, including a favorite school scene.  I enjoyed digging into the history and the stories of the people who lived here before me. I have some more ideas that I'd like to put in, but this year, it just isn't going to happen. 

School started, along with volleyball and dance lessons for the girls. Work has been busy. I feel stretched much too thin to take on a few nights of practices this month. I decided that I needed to say "No" to the play this year. Even as I type this, I am fighting tears. I feel like a part of me has been left behind, a little lost. 

I know that this is the right decision for my family this year. I know from reading about the history of my town, my community, that family is a priority. We are strong because of the foundations that have been laid, the roots that have taken hold. Family. Faith. 

So, this year, I am stepping back a little. I may still find a way to be involved, but not as intensive.  I will miss it, but I am going to hang on to the hope that next year will be different. 

Slower. 

Simpler.

If I have learned anything from doing the play, it is that priorities are important. And for this year, even if it means sacrificing something I dearly love, to keep my sanity, then I will do it. Next year, God willing, the cast and crew of Chestnut Roots will be back. Refreshed and ready to go. 

Love,

Dianne aka Arminta aka Elizabeth aka Gossipy Woman.

Cricket Symphony

When life gets crazy, is it inevitably does this time of year, 

with school just starting, 

volleyball practice and games, 

Folk Festival preparations, 

and a work schedule that seems even more hectic than usual,

then a break from it all becomes necessary.

So I step back,

and take a breath,

(not too deeply, this is a working farm after all)

go for a walk,

and visit the cows. 

 The cows are grazing, most of them just giving Leo and I a fleeting glance of disinterest. 

The younger ones though are nosy.

Very nosy. 

Yes, I remember you. You were the Great Escape Cow this Spring, always tiptoeing tromping and trampling through the tulips, knocking over the birdbath. Yes, I remember you. 

I don't remember this one, but Leo knows them all. Like a shepherd with his sheep. 

They are his companions when he is out and about the farm. 

Even Ryan knows them all, by name and personality. 

I only know the ones who eat my flowers. 

Ahh, August evening.

The sound of nighttime bugs as they begin to tune up for the evening concert

 is accompanying our conversation.  

The house looked quiet,

at least from a distance.

(Looks are deceiving.)

Walking back to the house to gather the troops for an outing,we passed by some of these. 

Remember smashing them into a pulp to make ink / dye / face paint? 

On a lone tree in the pasture, we came across the remnants of a tree house project.

Amy and Heather started it.

Amy and Heather never finished it. 

Remember Little Miss Muffet and the spider?

This was a case of Little Miss Amy & Heather and the spider that ruined the treehouse. 

Like butter melting, the sun slid effortlessly on it's descent into the hills. 

The cricket chorus was growing and their finely tuned legs began Sonata #4 in Bb. 

 It all makes you want to applaud and shout "Bravo! Encore! Encore!

 The best way to end a busy day in August? 

Ice-cream at Katie's

"Bravo! Encore!"

I know life is crazy right now. I know my schedule is not leaving a lot of room for relaxation. I know that if I don't take even just 10 minutes out of my day to do something enjoyable, I will be as crazy as life itself. I am giving myself permission! Everyday is a different symphony and I don't want to miss it.

Besides, the crickets would be disappointed. And tomorrow, I hear they're performing a little jazz, singing The August Blues.

Love,
Dianne

First Day of the The Rest of The Year

We survived the first day of school. Not that I thought we wouldn't, but you never can tell with these things. Here's how it went:

1. Everyone was up on time, with time to spare.
2. Zorro, Merrylegs, Buddy and Cocoa were all fed.
3. So were Amy, Heather and Ryan.
4. They did not eat the same things, unless you count hay and grass as cereal, and calf formula as      milk. Okay, that is kinda the same. Weird. Hmmm, now that's food for thought.
5. The traditional "first day of school" photos were taken.
6. The photos were taken with cooperation. Amazing.
7. They all headed up the lane together in the misty morning air.
8. I went back in the house, hearing nothing but silence.
9. Suddenly the door came open and Heather was there, breathless from running back down the lane.
10. She forgot her gym bag.
11. Did she forget anything else? "No" was the reply. Famous last words.
12. I drove her up the lane to meet up again with the others.
13. And they were off to school.
14. I went back to the house, started to make my coffee when I saw Heather's knee pads and ankle supports for volleyball practice. Remember #11?
15. I got some breakfast, did some work for Tender Loving Home Care and left for home visits.
16. On the way, I dropped off Heather's volleyball stuff.
17. Fast forward a few hours. Now we are all home again, home again jiggity-jig.
18. They all say they had a good day. All three have new kids in their classes. This is a big deal when your class size is between 15-25 students.
19. I only have 462 papers to sign x 3.
20. Planner is signed for Ryan, backpacks are made ready, clothing is picked out for tomorrow.
21. In bed by 9:30. Whew.
22. Day 1 is complete; only 179 more to go.

She came, she saw...

...she conquered! (11th grade, that is.)

 Look out 8th Grade!

That's right.  

As for 3rd Grade...

...psssshhh...I own the 3rd Grade!

To Amy, Heather and Ryan,
Make it all count! Enjoy it. Learn. Love. Laugh. Eat portion controlled cafeteria food. I'll be praying! (Not just because of the cafeteria food either.)
Love, Mom

And Love,
Dianne

Sunday "Roll" Call

Today is Sunday August 26th and here's how I roll.

Hours of sleep I got since 5:00pm yesterday: Two
Lunch: Sauteed zucchini, tomato slices and leftover mac n cheese.
Coffee: Of course; Toasted Marshmallow Cappuchino.
Favorite lazy activity: Catching up on Facebook and a few favorite blogs.
Book I am currently reading: Indivisible by Kristen Heitzmann.
Project I am working on: Putting together the info on Lewis C. Bender (Leo's grandpa) for a book.
Drinking right now: Plain old boring water.
What I want to be drinking right now: Another cup of coffee.
Color my toenails will be in about an hour: a reddish-brown called Canal Street by NYC colors
Need to: Finish school shopping later today (school starts tomorrow!)
Thought in my head right now: My definition of a quiet night and God's definition are two different things
I really should: Head to the Maust cabin to hang out with family for a little while.
Why I am still sitting here: I am simply too tired to think about driving to the cabin.
What I am hearing: A truck downshifting from far off, branches hitting the window, a lonely cricket.
Last junk food I ate: Cake at work with buttercream icing.
Now I am thinking about: My mom and dad on their trip. Such a random thought, but it makes me pause and say a prayer for them.

Our lives our made up of details, moment by moment, thought by thought. Just stop sometime and think about what you are doing, why you are doing it, and how that effects the next detail in your life. Pretty heavy stuff, huh?

Before I was even born, God knew the details of my life.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." Jeremiah 1:5 NIV Now I know I am not a prophet, but the point is, God knew and cared about details before I even was. My everyday life has purpose, as does everybody's life. Purpose. Meaning. Even in the seemingly unremarkable stuff of life and for that I am thankful.  Days that I feel like "What is the point?!", like when I am doing the dishes again, picking up the same clothes off the floor that I just washed the week before, or just cooking another meal, I need to remember to find joy in the midst of the mundane. Delight in the details.  "This is what I have observed to be good: that it is appropriate for a person to eat, to drink and to find satisfaction in their toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given them—for this is their lot." Ecclesiastes 5:18 NIV And that, my friends, is how I roll. Love, Dianne

Fair Time! (Need I say more?)

August + crickets chirping + cooler evenings + thunderstorms = Somerset County Fair

Last evening, the family, minus Aaron who already had plans, was headed for Meyersdale and the fairgrounds. I hadn't been there for a couple of years and I was a little excited; more for the kids, because I don't really remember ever taking Ryan. He informed me that he couldn't wear flip-flops "in case he goes on rides that flip him upside-down or too fast and his shoes fall off".

I had to decide what to wear. I mean, there is a fair dress code, right?
Jeans, cowboy boots, a t-shirt with some country-western band name emblazoned across the front, and a big ol' clunky belt buckle.
I have jeans.
I guess I'll just have to make up the rest.
I don't even own a belt.

 And we were off to the fair: three fair maidens and their rascal brother.

 We walked into the fairgrounds, paid our fee and got out hands stamped.

I did not take long until I realized I was dressed all wrong, except maybe the jeans.

A familiar sight was the dairy bar. Best milkshakes ever.

Nearby a band, a country/folk band, was playing to a small but appreciative group of fair-goers who needed a break. A break from the rides, not the band.

And there's Ryan, waiting for rides, for food, for something. We were waiting to meet up with good friends of mine and their 10 month old, Levi.

Still waiting, looking longingly at the rides with Amy. I looked, but I did not in any way, shape or form, desire to set one foot onto a ride. Not even the merry-go-round tempted me. Even as a kid, I don't remember ever really liking rides a lot. I rode them with my sisters; my first "roller coaster" was with Roxanne at the Garrett County Fair. The guy running the ride thought we were twins. I think the last ride I ever rode at the fair was "The Round-Up". Three times in a row and I was done for. Forever.

.

 We walked around first to look at the animals and to try to find Leo and Pap, his dad, who were there to look at a cow that Pap had connections too. It just so happened she was Supreme Champion in her class.  Once we found Pap, he was ready to leave. Leo took him out to eat and then home. As for the rest of us, we kept exploring the sights, sounds and smells of the fair.














There was a baby Jersey born just this week,

 pigs for Levi to meet,

 a curious goat checking out his admirers,

 the building with all the flowers,

 and produce,

 canned goods,

 and quilts.

 The long horse barn with sleepy horses and their owners tucking them in for
the night is the barn that always smells the best to me.

 Finally, we checked out the rides. I think they are more fun once it is dark because of the lights. The Merry-Go-Round is classic, but as it started to go around, I wondered if it had always gone that fast. Or am I just getting old? No, don't answer that.

 The Ferris Wheel, originally designed in 1893 for the World's Columbian Expo in Chicago, IL (in case you always wanted to know that), was next. The girls and Ryan clambered aboard and soon were enjoying the views the height afforded.

 Then we had to eat cheesy fries. We often got fries when I was a kid at the fair. We would go the night of the Dairy show and sitting there watching cows with the row of food booths right there was torture. The fries were usually one of the best parts of the fair for me, even better than the rides. Even better than McDonalds. Nothing beats Fair Fries.

 
My friend Tina and Adrienne got Rita's shaved ice. I tried some and promptly got a brain freeze. There is an art to eating iced treats that I have not mastered. I will stick to the fries.

 Amy, who tried valiantly to win a goldfish, lost $5.00 in the process. My friends went while we were eating our fries and came back a short time later. Brad said, "Amy, I'm sorry. I didn't get you one. . . I got you two!" I thought Amy was going to cry tears of joy. The fish are named Brad and Tina.

So, tired and happy, we said our good-byes, got hugs, and walked to the car.
August + Friends + Laughter + Food + Goldfish + Ryan on Rides = Somerset County Fair 2012.
Next year, I'm wearing cowboy boots.

Love,
Dianne