The Liar and His Gourds by KimB

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB]

My family always loved folk or traditional music. We entertained ourselves by singing folk songs and playing instruments like guitars, banjo and dulcimer. As we had no TV and often no radio, this was our main source of entertainment.

We often were able to checkout books of songs from the library. During the 1950s it was popular for song collectors to travel to odd outposts and remote corners of the USA to record people singing variants of old traditional songs and to write these up in histories about how they evolved from the earliest known versions. I loved to read these song-history books and all about the history and circumstances of the song but also about the people who sang them.

In one story, the author¹ traveled to a remote corner of the USA and recorded several songs from an elderly woman. As he prepared to leave, she called him back and said,

"Young man, I want you to know, that hit takes a liar to raise gourds."

This wonderful statement became an instant hit in our family. We took turns trying to catch each other off-guard with this phrase. We might be playing cards and one would say to another "I just want you to know, it takes a liar to grow gourds." or we might be riding in the car or at the grocery store. No place or event was safe from having this sprung on you. It always produced a smile, giggle or outright guffaw!

My Uncle Vernon, who lived in Louisiana, always had a great wit and loved to tease us Yankees about how inept we were. He would proudly show us around his place and the wonderful gardens, and woods and lakes and fishing holes. Always, with a twinkle in his eye he would challenge us Yankees to prove we could be as good as he was. Fishing contests were common and there was never any doubt about who was going to win: Vernon always got the biggest baddest bass in the lake.

On one visit, we waited for just the right moment and hit Vernon with "I just want you to know, it takes a liar to grow gourds." Vernon was just flummoxed. He just couldn't think of a come back. He tried all that visit to think of something but nothing could outdo "It takes a liar to grow gourds".  Finally it was "Score 1 for the Yankees"!

Some time later, on another visit we were chatting with Vernon and he asked (innocently), "What was that phrase again about the gourds again?"

Of course, we puffed up proudly, secure in our verbal victory and pronounced, "It takes a liar to grow gourds."

Vernon looked at us each in turn and with a twinkle in his eye, said
"So, how's your crop coming?"

So, how's your crop coming?

1. The Ballad Book of John Jacob Niles [1960]
p87 Song: The Lady of York / The Cruel Mother  Singer: Aunt Didie Netherly

Lee and Grant

Today there's no sun, no wind, no rain, just plain; a good day to spend reading a book.

A few days ago I was given a book, titled Lee and Grant. Those two names are immediately recognized by Americans and probably by many people around the world, at least those who study military matters.

The book was written by Gene Smith, published by Promontory Press by arrangement with McGraw-Hill in 1991. The comment by Major General J.F.C. Fuller, British Army, on the fly leaf before the introduction, encapsulates the flavor of the book, promising not to be just another rehash of the Civil War.

Having read five chapters to date, I am thoroughly engrossed in this history that reads like a novel. My childhood education included studying the Civil War, dates, causes and aftermaths. My family genealogy includes kin on both Union and Confederate sides. Mom's family fought for the North; Dad's family fought for the South. Consequently it has been a life long interest and I've read many books on the subject.

This book is a comparison of Lee and Grant's characters and personalities. It contrasts their births, parentage, education, marriages and events that brought them together on the field of battle. Their joined histories are stranger than fiction and if the facts were not so well known, I might believe the author used “creative license”.

Lee and Grant Virginia Historical Society

Office Gardens by A. Nonymus

Many years ago I had just started working in city hall as assistant city manager. City hall is always a busy place, with lots of people coming and going, and of course a large staff working there too.

This city hall was beautiful! There was a lovely atrium entry lobby choc-a-bloc with lovely plants - a virtual garden of eden, however this is not what I want to write about. Down the long main hallway, at a major intersection was a lovely ficus tree - about 3 feet tall in a large decorative floor pot. The star of the hallway was that ficus tree. It was grandly shaped for its size, and virtually perfect!

Many of the offices had sundry plants on desks, or someone near a window would have a panoply of plants thriving and enjoying the sun, but none was as beloved as that poor lone perfect ficus in the hall. Everyone admired that tree, and I had an ideal view of it from my new desk.

As I settled into my new job I could see the ficus was the recipient of lots of attention, and I soon realized that almost everyone walking by the tree would 'tend' it at some point in the day, using everything from actual water to stale coffee, tea, sodas, even gum, gum wrappers, or cigarette butts [which I attributed to some dodgy young folks from the Parks Department]. Unbeknownst to all, this ficus got a lot of liquids in the course of a day!

Well, as you may have guessed, even the hardiest plant can only take so much 'tending' and this kind of TLC.

It wasn't long before the tree was showing signs of distress, and started dropping leaves. Before long the poor thing was bare naked... and almost beyond struggling. There were inter-office memos about - DO this / DON"T do that .. as regards tending this poor tree.

However, no stern memos would deter the determined - i.e. those who 'knew' the plant was too dry and needed more watering ! Office politics and departmental rivalries now went into higher gear. In desperation of this crisis, everyone it seemed increased 'tending' it!

Due to the increasingly heated politics, the various water brigades had to go surreptitious - sneaking cups of water - glancing both ways to see who was watching, and quickly flicking sustenance into the pot as they passed by. If folks noticed me watching I would get a conspiratorial wink – as to say 'just our secret'! There may have been a slowdown on sodas and stale coffees too, but I rather doubt it because now the tree was getting even more drinks daily!

The wrangling over tending the tree went on for a while, but by now the poor tree was clearly just a goner... as in the old western movies ...'He's a goner sherriff' ... and it was apparent that no memos, or stale coffee would ever revive it.

Folks, however, just refused to face reality, so it was still 'watered' with sneaky trips to the water fountain .. and of course the odd stale soda, tea or coffee yet I'm sure. I think people secretly hoped the poor tree would magically revive, but alas, this tree was no Lazarus! It was hard to face the fact that such a grand plant was a 'goner'. The tree was the subject of every water cooler chat in the place. What to do ... what to do?

Then one Monday morning when I came to work, I could see the forlorn ghostly silhouette of the ficus down the hall, but noticed a prominent sign stuck into the soil - a large file card stapeled to an ice cream stick. I went over to look. This mysterious sign – we believe - was put there by the City Manager... and it simply read...

"PLEASE DO NOT WATER ME ANYMORE! - I AM DEAD - AND I LIKE IT THIS WAY"!

So, How Does YOUR Garden Grow?

[Editor's Note:  Gardens and Gardening have been the topic of quite a few stories over the years. Many family members have thumbs greener than the Jolly Green Giant. MrsB thought it would be great fun to start a combined or carousel topic about how everyone's garden is doing, both the good, the bad, and the gophers. So here's the first installment.]


MrsB

My garden at the moment consists of two pots of dying chrysanthemum plants and one healthy Christmas cactus.

KimB

KimB's Herb Pot  03/05/2011

My 6 container pot garden has 2 tomatoes 2 potatoes[red and white taters] and 12 strawberry plants[6 in each pot] plus 1 small strawberry pot with herbs. One of my tomatoes has 4 FOUR marble sized tomatoes!

My herb pot has oregano, golden oregano, spicy oregano, parsley, basil and garlic chives growing from the pockets and trailing rosemary from the top. Hopefully by the time the side pocket herbs die off the rosemary will be cascading over the sides.

[Editor's Note: Contact MrsB if you would like to include your updates. Gardens can be anything from a potted African Violet to a full force multi-row garden. Successes and failures are both great topics.]

Card Tournament

I am in a card tournament. The game is called Spite and Malice and only one person can be the winner of any round. The first player to win 10 games wins a bottle of Strawberry champagne. The tournament has been going for slightly more than a week, and one player has already scored 8 games.
Everyone is beginning to sharpen their cut-throat strategies to prevent that player from winning, but since there is little or no strategy to playing Spite and malice, it's going to be the luck of the draw.

Everyone has made comments about what they would do if they won the bottle, some saying they would share with the other players, some saying they would take it home. The discussion about sharing or not made me think of an incident that happened many years ago when my daughter was about 7 years old.

An artist friend from New York, was visiting friends and family in Los Angeles. We lived in Fontana, CA at that time and invited him to come spend a week with us. It was a delightful visit, and we promised to see him again in Los Angeles before he returned to New York.

One Sunday afternoon we drove from Fontana into L A, to see him, taking a fancy decorated cake and a chilled bottle of Cold Duck with us. We were warmly greeted and not long after we had arrived the cake and champagne were served. My daughter was very young, about 7 or 8 and she begged to have a taste of the wine. After a moment, I did give her permission to have a taste of the champagne, but only a tiny sip.

Everyone was busy chatting and toasting each others health, and I noticed my daughter being a proper little lady holding her glass with the several drops of champagne and making it last as long as possible.

The room we were in was unusually large with a massive fireplace on one wall and a huge bay window opposite. Those of us who were artists and painters commented that the room would make and ideal studio and as we envisioned the possibilities, we heard a sudden loud crash that sounded like breaking glass.

As we all turned to look in the direction of the fireplace where the sound came from, we could see the shards of a wine glass, broken into a hundred pieces. We were dumbstruck!

Then I noticed my daughter standing there without her glass. She had hurled it across that huge room into the fireplace! I gasped and sputtered and it was a moment before I could ask her why she had done such a thing. Apparently she had seen it done in a movie.

Thank heavens it was not an expensive wine glass.



Broken Champagne Glasses



The Raven’s Wing by KimB

The Raven’s Wing

Black as the raven’s wing,
Sharpened eyes do bind,
And search the soul with steeled claws,
the hidden lies behind.

Seized and torn from ravaged roots,
snatched by reddened maw,
the twisted, shattered, pallid forms,
writhe in crimson jaws.

Red drips the ragged shapes,
stains that may not hide,
frame the anguished night with death,
no solace shall there bide.


KimB Jan 2000

Theater: Legacy of Light by Richard

[Editor's note: This story was written by Richard]

Frances and I saw the play Legacy of Light Wednesday night April 13,2011 at the San Jose Repertory. The play is about two women with great scientific minds and their love life relationships.

The time and place was France in the 1700s and Now in New Jersey. The back and forth was skillfully and masterfully accomplished between historical period and centuries, as well as the dialogue and the costumes. These women were always looking for mathematical ways to measure and to fulfill expectations about energy, light, mater, and the cosmos, and how they all work and fit in the universe.

These two women were working in a man's world and found that it was not easy to please or satisfy them with their mathematical answers, and difficult to publish their findings. The two great scientific minds wanted to leave something behind to show other to follow.  Their love lives were very different. One was promiscuous and the other was unable have children.

The play had many happy moments.

 

Physicist Émilie du Châtelet

Mother's Day 2011

On many long ago Mother's Day mornings, my children would surprise me with breakfast in bed. They came bearing a tray with enough food to feed a lumberjack; sometimes the cereal would be soggy, and the toast slightly burnt, but with great expectations they waited breathlessly for me to take my first bite then pass judgment on their cooking.

Of course I always managed to express my amazement at such a wonderful breakfast tray, all the while wondering just what kind of mess the kitchen might be in. Those lovely memories are locked away in my heart forever and sometimes I take them out and pass them in review.

As the years passed we celebrated Mother's Day in many ways, often going out for brunch at a popular eatery. When Mom and Dad were still with us, I often served a large family dinner with brothers and sisters and their spouses attending. Those too are memories precious to me and I often share them with my sister Esther, when we reminisce about days gone by.

I'm celebrating this year with gifts of two new hobbies. One is played on the computer, a membership in the game: Lord Of The Rings Online; the other: a cage with three beautiful baby parakeets which I have named Tic, Tac and Toe. I have been assured that the birds will not only talk but will sing or whistle tunes so I have been playing canary songs I found on YouTube. As for playing in LOTRO, I am a Hobbit Minstrel and learning how to ride my pony around The Shire.



At the Brandywine Bridge

Canary Song