The Egg And I

     Little discoveries are becoming the highlight of my day. I've been passing an odd house on the back road between Bristol and Abingdon for  months now that has a sign on the front fence post "Eggs For Sale." But the house is a wee bit intimidating because it looks so odd that I've never stopped. I don't know why the style of a house would intimidate me, but perhaps I irrationally thought that if I stopped at an odd house, I would be thought to be odd. Or maybe I expected odd people would welcome me, like the Addams Family. Saying that out loud doesn't make sense, but there has been some reason that I've never stopped.

   The house is odd because it's in the style of architecture developed by Buckminster Fuller; it's a geodesic dome. It sits close to a very traditional house on its one side. In fact, all the rest of the houses for 8 miles are Traditional homes, suburban ranches or southern colonial with faux columns. There's even one or two that could be called mansions with long tree-lined lanes leading to them. And there's an upscale Country Club just up the road with large traditional houses around the golf course. And mixed in with all that is the occasional farm that hasn't been sold for residential development yet and a couple small houses that have been there for at least 50 or 60 years. The geodesic dome sitting on a flat level plane that once was pasture land or a tobacco field clearly looks strange.

     However, I have grown so tired of store-bought eggs that seem to be growing more and more tasteless. Last week I friend two eggs because I hadn't had any for awhile and was hungry for eggs over easy, toast, and orange juice. All I could taste was the canola oil I had fried them in and maybe the salt and pepper. The yolk (the best part)had no taste and neither did the white. I was disgusted and that's when I decided I was going to check out the egg house.

     I did my errands in Abingdon and on the way back I turned into the lane with the sign that said, "Eggs For Sale." The driveway led me to the back of the geodesic dome where several trucks and cars were parked. There was also a golf cart and a gas grill. Clearly, active people lived here. 

     I remember growing up in small town Indiana. My sister was married to a farmer so we often got fresh eggs from her. But if her hens weren't laying, I guess hens take vacations,

we'd drive out to some farm to buy eggs from a nice country farmer's wife. So I remember what free-range eggs from free-range chickens taste like, and I hadn't had that taste in my mouth for a very long time.

     I knocked on the back door, and a very up-to-date woman answered. "Do you sell eggs?" I asked. "I sure do," she answered. "I want a dozen," I said without asking the price, "Oh, I'll take 18, a dozen and a half, if you've got them." She walked across the entry room and brought me a dozen and a half; she said her mother only takes half a dozen each week. Three dollars is all they cost me. I was delighted for buying; she was delighted in selling. We smiled at each other.

     Then we exchanged names and chatted a bit. We could see my lane from her back yard.

I told her I was a storyteller and she wanted to know where I told stories. (Everyone asks if I tell in Jonesborough, meaning the National Festival--I wish!) She gave me her e-mail address so I could put her on my mailing list for Bristol events--she said her daughter would love that.

     I drove away cheerfully! Not only had I bought a dozen and a half eggs, but I had met a new neighbor as well. I wondered how many other people have (not) stopped at that odd house. I was so glad I finally did.

     When I drove into my driveway, I felt like I should go in my house first and put on an apron--I was just that nostalgic for the days my mother and sisters and I would drive into the country to buy eggs.

     I carried them gingerly and all by themselves into my house. I opened the cardboard containers. The eggs were brown and large. I carefully removed one egg. I fried it in margarine and salt and peppered it. I flipped it over so I could make an egg sandwich for lunch. I laid two pieces of Arnold's harvest wheat bread on a small plate and put my gold and white beauty between the slices. I poured a glass of orange juice and put it all on a tray so I could eat lunch in front of the fireplace. The taste of my egg sandwich was wonnnddderrrfulll.  

     If you don't have a farmer's market near you, take a drive out into the country and don't be afraid of odd houses.  

Mimi

Antique Appraisals

     It was necessary for me to have an appraisal done on the antiques here in the house that are to go to my step-son Geoff when I am finished using them. So all summer I have been trying to find a Bristol appraiser and had two leads and neither one worked out. So I called the Ken Farmer appraisal company in Radford, Virginia and on Sept. 20 an associate of Ken's, Bob Miller, came to Castle Yonder and did an appraisal of 12 different items, mostly furniture.

     He did not have the expertise to appraise two musical instruments I have, a Gibson mandolin and a Gibson banjo. So we decided I should bring them to the fundraiser for the Bristol Public Library on Oct. 9, last Thursday, when Ken Farmer would be present who does have the expertise.

 Gibson Mandolin from around 1918 or so.

Gibson 4-string banjo, c. 1920's

     I need to send these photos to Ken Farmer and then he will give me a written appraisal of their value.
He will need to research them more fully in his Musical Guides which he did not have with him.

     I had a good time at the fund raiser. Because the instruments were bulky and awkward, I put them across the hand rails of my new rollater (a walker on wheels) and rolled them in. Jud Barry, the library's Director, carried them out for me and put them into the truck.

     I thought readers might like to see some of the things that were brought in by the public. There seemed to be a lot of art, some original, many prints, and a few engravings. There had been another session during the day so if it was anything like the evening session, some unusual items were appraised.

 A German WWII Uniform with medals and swastikas

 The audience gathers and compares items. Lots of stories!

Ken Farmer examines an old fiddle.

Bob Miller called this 1950's portrait done in oild "iconic American." 

 Bob Miller, a retired history teacher and lifelong collector, explains this original painting is done "en grise" French for "all in grey."

 Bob Miller shows an antique primitive locally made wall cupboard.

 Bob Miller holds a regional face jug. The face is applied in slip on the other side. Ken Farmer comments about its rarity.

Ken Farmer called this "the ugliest cookie jar." C. 1950-s, 1960-s.

Jonesborough Storytelling Festival, Day Two

     I managed to get to Jonesborough by noon, time to get a pizza slice and roll on over to the Library tent to hear Kevin Kling tell his stories "Chicken Soup For The Chicken." Kevin had a series of well-crafted tales of his search for courage, adventure, and self-knowledge. He has a wicked sense of humor (meaning it's sharp and on-target) so the audience is highly entertained but each vignette had an inspirational, but not sentimental, ending. I really enjoyed the whole hour and left with great admiration for this teller.


     I moved over to the College Street tent when Kevin finished to hear Andy Offutt Irwin in his program "Maybe He'll Get It Out Of His System." I'm sad to say I listened for half an hour and then left and moved back to the Library tent to hear the last half of Eth-Noh-Tec, "The Stories On Which We Stand." The subject was the story of three generations of a Chinese family in America and I'm happy to say it gave me some ideas about how to present my German-American family.

Saturday's audience waiting for Andy Offutt Irwin

     A few comments about Andy's program. I found it dragged, in spite of the laughs. This is only the second time I've heard Andy; the first time, he portrayed his Southern Aunt Margaret which I really liked and was disappointed this time when he told a nostalgic family story.

Andy Offutt Irwin playing his guitar for a sound check prior to his show.

    I want to add here some second thoughts about the Susie "Mama" Whaples stories I heard yesterday. A friend of mine and I compared notes today and she loved the same program that "Mama" did with which I had found fault. Where I thought it seemed like a comedy routine, my friend said she likes the "fast pace." So, it is all a matter of taste. My friend assured me that she has heard some of "Mama's" stories that she is sure I'd like. 


     I try to make only positive comments to storytellers because most of those who I come into contact with locally are amateurs and get easily discouraged. But I've decided "only" positive feedback can be a disservice to tellers who are already professionals. So I'm planning to be as honest as I can be, especially in the written words of a Blog, and share feedback that includes both the positive and negative with the understanding it is only my opinion as a listener and observer and I am certainly no professional storyteller or expert in any way. 


     I've been waiting many months to hear Jay O'Callahan tell his long story "Forged In The Stars," which he was commissioned to create for the National Space Administration. Somehow I had downloaded a recording of the story over iTunes during the summer. Yesterday I had an opportunity to chat with Jay and he told me that the final version which he was telling today was somewhat different. So I was very much looking forward to his show.

Jay O'Callahan speaks privately to M.C. Beth Horner

     One of the reasons his subject matter excited me so was because my family and I lived in Houston for seven years during the moon landing and early manned space flight. My ex-husband had been an electrical engineer who worked for a NASA subcontractor and his office was on the Space agency's campus in Clear Lake City. Several of our neighbors and many of our friends were involved with some aspect of the space flights. So, even though I had nothing to do with the space work, just being in the same locality and knowing a couple people who had important involvement gave me an emotional investment in NASA. 

Jay O'Callahan waits to be introduced.

     Jay O'Callahan's 80 minute story was amazing! The two main characters provide a love story complete with dramatic tension and an opportunity to combine science and imagination in dialogue including the history of the space flights. Jay's creativity and organized mind has been able to arrange his words in such a way as to totally engage and mesmerize the audience. Providing evidence for this is the fact the audience jumped to its feet at the conclusion and then applauded so long that Jay made three "curtain calls" back onto the stage. I wish you could all have been there.


     Here are a few pictures of people you may recognize, or not since some are just shots of audience members:

                            Connie Reagan Blake waits to M.C.

Charlotte Blake-Alston and Doug Elliott after Charlotte's performance.

Jim May with fan from audience

Friend Millie Sieber from Tennessee Storytelling Association

Paul Conco and Me

Sisters In Story, Norris Spencer, Me, Diana Conco

Jonesborough Storytelling Festival, Day One

     My red rolling walker (rollater) was a super help for me today at the Jonesborough Storytelling Festival. It did just what I'd hoped, gave me something to lean on and steady myself so I didn't get out of breath. We walked on asphalt, bricks, grass, sidewalk, and straw to get to the Library Tent.


     Because I had to go to the bank this morning, then get gas and a cup of coffee, I didn't get to Jonesborough until noon, but I stayed until a few minutes after 7:00 p.m.  I had arranged for a reserved parking place at a house just across from The Visitor's Center and down aways, so I was close to the two tents I wanted to go to and it turned out because of the programming, I had to alternate tents for all the sets. But that gave me the opportunity to do my daily exercise of walking and running into (not literally) good friends and acquaintances. 


     I'm amazed, however, at the multitudes of people I don't know and sometimes find out this is the first festival they've ever attended. It's the 23rd for me! Last year I wondered if I'd be able to continue attending. So I've been planning some kind of alternative transportation around the grounds. My cane is good for short distances, but wasn't doing the job for festivals. I thought about a power scooter, but with the doctor's order to walk daily, my "Red" friend is ideal.


     The first teller I heard was my good friend, Kim Weitkamp. This is Kim's first year there as a "New Voice." Her first set in which she told the potholder story and then sang a song about her father was terrific. She was energetic, she was fast paced, she appeared relaxed, and definitely enjoying herself. 


     Kim was followed by the storytelling icon, Kathryn Windham, who tells her age graciously as 92. She told a story about trying to downsize her home and her presentation was full of images that allowed me to "know" her and imagine how she lives. Kathryn is always able to draw people into her stories with seemingly little effort and afterwards you get the sense you've had an intimate visit with her.


     I changed tents to listen to Rafe Martin and Carmen Deedy. I heard Rafe Martin years ago and wasn't impressed by him and that continued today. I'd be happy to have him in my local guild because he can tell a fine story. It's just that he doesn't elicit the power, or excitement, that other national storytellers can achieve.


     Carmen Deedy is a different story, thankfully. I've known Carmen's work since 1996 and have hosted her in my home for a Barter Storyteller's event. The story she told was "Waltzing Hilda" which I've heard before, but I enjoyed it all over again. I haven't seen Carmen for several years so I stayed after and "Red" and I stood in a long line just to say "Hi." She said she had just found out that Rocky had passed away and was glad I had stayed to chat with her a moment.


     Then it was West Virginia's turn, our neighboring state, featuring Suzie "Mama" Whaples and Bil Lepp. Bil informed us that they were the only West Virginia storytellers to appear at a national story festival so far. "Mama" started out fine with a story about the West Virginia State Fair, but then it began to sound like a comedy routine, with a punch line coming after every few sentences. She has some wonderful body movements that are both girlish and charming and I hope she develops these and times them appropriately to enhance her presentation.  I enjoyed her set, but was conscious of these things I've mentioned. I also noticed she ran only 20 minutes, although she may have willingly given her time up so Bil could tell a story that ran over his half of the hour. 


     Bil's story was hilarious, as usual, about how he had met his wife, Paula which involved his first time riding a horse, which turned out to be a "devil" horse. It ended as a tall tale which kept up Bil's reputation and fame. He is one funny fellow.


     My day ended with the Exchange Place, a favorite session of mine because I often hear excellent tellers there and sometimes they go on to get a spot on the national stage.  In fact, Kim Weitkamp was an Exchange Place teller a year or so ago. Each teller represents his or her region of the country as they have been traditional divided by the storytelling organizations. I won't take time to review everyone's story, but my favorite was Hannah Harvey, who told a powerful and riveting story of a Virginia coal miner. She alone of all six tellers got a standing ovation.


     Here are a couple photos I took today with my iPhone. I am not satisfied with the quality of the pictures because, perhaps, my hands are not steady enough and there seems always to be a fuzziness to them. Of course it doesn't help that no photography is allowed during the performances, so most photo ops are of close friends with their arms around each other, someone posed with a featured teller, or in my case, of the audience.

Audience, the gentleman standing up in the background is Jay O'Callahan talking to a fan.

More audience in the College Street Tent

Programs over; let's go eat

(In my case, it was time to go home)

Peeking through shoulders in the row in front of me, take my word for it, it's Jimmy Neal Smith and Kim Weitkamp.