Monday, October 19, 2009

Tiny Dancer




Our revered "Miss Jeanne" retired this past May after teaching dance to Pampa people for more than 6 decades. http://focuspampa.com/Volume_27/Spring_2009/spring_2009.html

Miss Jeanne taught my eldest daughter for more than 15 of those years and my youngest daughter for a couple of years, too. Now my five-year-old granddaughter is taking ballet.


At a recent reception, a crowd comprised of former students, their families and members of the community gathered to honor a tiny dance teacher with massive heart for her art.

Pictured here, mother and daughter, Linda and Laura, both among Miss Jeanne's numerous "children," smile for the photographer. Me.

Jeanne Willingham's Beaux Art Studio functioned from nursery to graduate school for dancers she taught to perform on stage under the spotlight, learning to cultivate audience awareness. The Nutcracker Ballet in December and a Recital in May, dancers practiced to make perfect.

Along the way, Miss Jeanne improved the posture, poise and confidence of her students.

Referring to the chest area below the base of the neck as "the necklace," she instructed ballet students at the bar how to carry themselves erect.

"Show me your necklace," she said.

Instant transformation from the slouch of everyday posture to a graceful pose, dancers breathed in and pressed their shoulders back. This move elevated a dancer's stature and gained Miss Jeanne's coveted approval.

The gift bestowed by the Civic Ballet Board suited the occasion. A gold necklace to commemorate how she has enriched our lives, a delicate strand that sparkles in the light.

As a clasp that links a circle of otherwise disparate lives, scattered now all over the country, Miss Jeanne continues to inspire those who love her because she loved what she did and it showed.

Bravo, Miss Jeanne.



Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Dear Diary

Our recent move unearthed a lot of things that could have or perhaps should have gotten lost or discarded long before now. But the discovery of my diary—which contains a few snapshots of me at ages 11, 14 and 15—transported me to forgotten times, times that if I hadn’t written this stuff down, I would not have believed I was so goofy.

These random ramblings remind me of my intermittent blogging of late, but attest to the fact that I have tried to write about my life for a very long time. Thus I decided to share unfiltered this one sequence of events.

Feel free to relate, critique my writing and laugh out loud. Punctuation, spelling and caps used for emphasis appear close to as written. Squirming, I apologize for all the ampersands since today I cannot permit myself to use text-messaging abbreviations.

U readers R 2 smart 4 that.


This boy is different: Different from any boy I’ve ever liked or loved in my whole life. Really different—

I met him first over Xmas vacation 1964. I can remember the very first day when I saw him, I didn’t expect much because my aunt just told me a real cute boy lived across the street from her. I said to myself—I’ve heard that line before & they’ve all turned out to be ugly pigs.

Monday morning Dec. 28 Joe & Mike [my cousins] & me went over to the school across the street to play basketball. I don’t remember just how “he” was there but Joe went over to “him” & whispered “that’s her.” And I started laughing my head off—like who else could it be? It was funny, I didn’t think too much of him at first, but we did sort of hit it off fast.

I guess it was because his hair all slicked down, he didn’t appeal—OH but does he now—hair slicked down or not.

We walked around sort of dumbfounded looking at each other sneaky like, then finally we got used to each other. Then we skated boarded. He made me have nerve because I hadn’t done it before, but I figured if he could, I could. And I could.

Down a sidewalk hill by the school all cracked—I never once wiped out. He did, but he took it in stride & laughed too. It was funny. We’d get bored of skate-boarding & after lunch we’d come back to the school & play basketball. Joe always bragged how great he was & then I was on Bobby’s team & I’d get the ball away from Joe & Bobby would make fun of him—say “Joel Roe” HA HA HA HA, etc.

One day while we were playing basketball Clayton walked by & Bobby yelled out to him, “What movie star do you think you are today?” It was really cruel as he [Clayton, a man about 40, known by everyone in town] is mentally retarded.

Bobby let me ride his bike while Joe & he played a game of horses. He won of course. He hardly let anyone ride his bike. By the way, he & I won the game of basketball.

John Anderson would come & play sometimes too but we’d still win. Joe & Mike got a tetherball for Xmas & we’d play tetherball, too. I think we only played one game & I won so I’ve always felt guilty & I want the chance for Bobby to beat me. I’ll let him.

That’s most of what happened the first day. That night Joe & I sneaked into the living room & talked about Bobby. I just couldn’t admit to anyone I like him. I didn’t know I did. It was just a challenge to get him to like me. Joe & I found out later that my aunt had been listening to us. Nothing bad had been said except BITCHEN’—but it’s just bad to grown-ups.

The next morning brought about the same patterns of events drawing us closer to each other, though. (I think; I know for me). We went home for lunch & I stood in a daze by the stove & submitted without thought: “I’ve decided. I do like him as a boyfriend.” Also I had this furry little orange necklace & said, “I’ll name it Bobby.”

After lunch we went back to the school to play basketball & blabber-mouths Joe & Mike told him. I tried to deny it but he knew, but it was really good because it caused him to show his feelings more. He blushed though, he’s the type.

Michael got a “GIVE A SHOW” for Xmas & that afternoon I had the brilliant idea to stage a little show. I had some money so I’d buy some KOOL aid & candy. We charged admission, 1cent & then they had to buy the candy. KOOL-AID was free. We invited all the kids across the street: Connie, Mug, James, Calvin, Ruth Ann & of course BOBBY. They all came.

I wore my blue straight skirt & blue shirt. I didn’t look very good, but he like me in spite of it (I think). My aunt & uncle commented when he left how slicked up he was & he was—just the most handsome thing in the world.

Everyone was wild while we showed the films. He showed them some, too, as he has to be top-guy; but he deserves it.

When it was over & they were ready to leave, it was snowing & I went out & ran down the street as I love snow so much. He walked out and talked to me. When I went back in the house, I heard popping. I peered out the door-window & it was him shooting fire crackers. I like to think it was for me. My aunt & Uncle told me to quit as it would seem I was chasing him. So I went into Joe & Mike’s room & watched in the dark. It was wonderful. And I knew in my heart it was for me!

The morning things got started off bright and early. It had snowed all night & there was lots of snow on the ground. We trudged over to the school to skate-board & we did for a while—then we began to have snow-ball fights & before we knew it, we were throwing [snowballs] at cars going by.

I was the worst. I demanded 2 snow-balls & Bobby made one & Joe the other. I put them in my coat pocket to wait for the next car & look innocent. A lady was in it & she stopped for me because she thought I wanted to cross the street. I told her, No you go on. I had about decided not throw at her. Then she said Thanks & I threw anyway right in her windshield. She went off laughing & I about died laughing myself. We all did. I about died. How could I be so mean?

We continued to throw them. Me doing the most. We threw one at one car but missed, but there were TEENAGERS in it & they stopped & boy did we take off. Bobby had the most nerve. He went back. It was nothing because they were stopping because of something else. But we were sure scared.

Later on John Anderson & his friends came over & raided us with their squirt guns. They shot at everyone but Bobby, because even though he’s smaller he could beat everyone of them up. Besides he was on their side. They got bored and left.

After lunch we came back for more. Traffic had died down some so we just skate-boarded. Little by little, the gang died down. I didn’t notice it. Mike went off with Calvin. James got tired & left, & I think Joe left on purpose.

But suddenly we were all alone. We talked. We talked about different things, school, grades, friends, my trips, etc. It was marvelous. He con’d to skate-board & I stood there praising him.

All I could see was how beautifully handsome he was. The most beautiful eyes in the world. Blue, Blue, Blue surrounded by coal black eyelashes—maybe not coal black but against those BLUE eyes they might as well be. Though nothing really spectacular happened, it was the most wonderful time of my life!

I got home late for dinner and walked in, in sort of a daze. And Unc teased me, said I’ve got a boyfriend.

I guess I dreamed of him the whole time I was there.

The next day we didn’t do too much. We were shadowed all day, everyone making fun.

On my last day, I came out dressed to go to the airport & he talked to me before I left. He talked about writing to me, but I was such a fool. I hate myself for it [telling him not to write].

We walked around the yard & Unc came out & went to talk to his dad (Bobby was right there on his bike). Unc said he was going to take me to the airport & Mr. Carothers said, “Bobby will ride her there on his bike” or words to that affect. We were both utterly embarrassed & I thought that was cruel.

When we got in the truck to leave, he was standing out in the yard with James, & he put his arm up to his forehead & waved. I returned the wave. Auntie said quit that & I said he waved first. That’s our own private little wave good-bye.

If only I could have stayed longer I’d know for sure the answer to all my questions.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Apple Pie Season

My grandson asked me to bake an apple pie for his birthday. You think you know something until time to use what you think you know. Like which apple makes the best apple pie?

As soon as I started peeling Gala apples, I thought, this apple will turn to mush when baked. So I went on a search, not to my revered cookbooks, but to the net.

Here's 2 sites that offered timely help:

http://www.mnn.com/food/farms-gardens/stories/picking-apples-everything-you-need-to-know

http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=5355494n&tag=api


I've already made the crust, so now it's off to the store for better apples.