Secret Garden and Some Garden Secrets

In 1911, Frances Hodgson Burnette published her endearing novel, The Secret Garden. The book tells the story of orphaned Mary Lennox, and the magic she works on an ailing cousin, a heartbroken uncle, and a tough talking village lad. The art of gardening bring then together, through the rejuvenation of life in a garden that has been long neglected.

In 2009, our Emily Trask plays Lily, in the the award winning Utah Shakespeare Festival's production of the musical version of The Secret Garden. She can also be seen as Katharine in Henry V.

While on the topic of Emily, I am going to go ahead with some "breaking news," since Emily is not one to fluff her own feathers. She was recently awarded the Danny Kaye Foundation Fellowship, which provides her lots of support as she finishes her MFA at Yale, but also guarantees her a network of professional connections. Unbeknownst to Emily, her professors recommended her for this award which was establish eight years ago to recognize, honor and support actors with outstanding potential in musical theatre. This is the first time the committee administering the award felt there was a candidate worthy of the Fellowship. So there you have it!

Last year, my friend Lucy, told me about Manitowoc's own secret garden. There is a gentleman who dreams up new varieties of peonies, and has a massive plot of land planted with them, and a number of other breathtaking flowers. Some of the peonies are in bloom, but many are still in the bud stage. If you go, and I hope you do, plan for a quiet, 30 minute or so walk through this wonderful place. To get there go west on Custer off Rapids road. Turn left on Edgewood Lane, and follow the twisty road until you get to the garden. You will find it on the right side of the street, smack in the middle of a residential area. Enjoy.

Tracy Kane wrote a series of summer crafty books for families: Fairy Houses, Fairy Boat, Fairy Flight, Fairy Houses and Beyond. She gives instructions on building intricate houses, boats and planes to hide in your garden. Kane stresses using natural objects that have already fallen to the earth, combined with other found objects, and recycled treasures. Brenda did a fairy house building workshop a few summer ago.

The next time you're passing by, scour our little garden for our hidden flamingo flat. The dwelling has a Key West/Margaritaville vibe, and includes not so subliminal homages to Elvis, Beatix Potter, Van Gogh, and Santa.

In State of the Arts news....BBC America is running a fun little show called "How-Do Marias." Andrew Lloyd Weber, oh, excuse me, SIR Andrew Lloyd Weber, is mounting a fresh production of "The Sound of Music" in London's West End theatre district, and is casting his Maria in an American Idol style format. Each week, the wanna-be's sing their hearts out, and are judged by a panel of British theatre professionals, including SALW himself.

The performances are all amazing, Broadway quality, and the contenders do not hide their diva-tudes during the evaluation segment of the show. They roll their eyes, scrunch their faces, they huff, they defend, and they argue. It's all very fun, until the finale when one girl is hurled off of the top of the Alps, so to speak. It's hard to watch, but not as hard as the sign off. The poor girl who is eliminated is forced to sing "So Long, Farewell" from "The Sound of Music" as the remaining contestants wave goodbye and send her on her way. Painful.

I feel like I should say something about Michael Jackson, but am still figuring out why his death has affected me so. Motown was never my style of music, and those intricate, synced moves done by groups like the Temptations, and the Four Tops always made me laugh - although their harmonies were thrilling. But when the Jackson Five + Michael came on the scene, my toes started tapping. Last night the BET Awards paid tribute to Jackson in a way that only his brothers and sisters could. There was no talk of his peculiar life, or speculation about his death. But there were plenty of soulful voices raised in his memory, including one knockout interpretation of "Ave Maria" by Beyonce. The show was a powerhouse tribute to a powerhouse performer, and is sure to be re-run, Catch it if you can.

What am I reading? The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. I am only on page 85, so there's not much to report, except for the unsettling framework. The story of Liesel, young, innocent, and trying to understand the machinations of Hitler dominated Germany, is told through the voice of Death. Yes, Death narrates the entire story amplifying the already troubling nature of the topic. No emotions are stronger than those associated with death, but this narrator is cold, creating anxiety in the reader. It the same technique that Hitchcock used in so many of his movies...little, subliminal tricks to make his audience nervous.

Looks like rain. Harrumph!

The Dark Horse by Guest Blogger Steven Head

It is late June and that means school is out, fire flies in the back yard, and the Tour de France is just around the corner. It also means the latest installment of Craig Johnson's Sherrif Walt Longmire mystery series is out. The Dark Horse is the fifth in the series and this time we find Walt doing undercover police work in Absalom, a town in neigboring Campbell County.

Walt is drawn into the case when the sheriff of Campbell County transfer his female prisoner since he does not have enough female officiers to meet the state requirement of the continuous presence of another woman. The female prisoner is the confessed killer of her husband. A confession she has volunteered and repeated at the scene of the crime and in custody.

One of the things making Walt wonder about this arrest is the prisoner has not uttered a word since entering his jail. And the Campbell County sheriff has expressed his own reservations about the confession and the crime that also involved a fire in both a barn and the house. So Walt agrees to impersonate an insurance agent out of Montana to investigate the crime. But one problem is that Walt grew up near Absalom and he is about as high profile in that part of Wyoming as any sheriff. His cover could easily be blown putting him at risk.

The Dark Horse repeats a storytelling pattern from the fourth book, Another Man's Moccasins, by running parallel narratives in different time periods. In Another Man's Moccasins the time difference was 40 years, this time it starts out as 10 days and progressively shrinks. I will not give away the secret but the discovery of what Walt knew before going to Absalom goes a long way in explaining his approach to the investigation.

While Walt's almost girlfriend, Deputy Victoria (Vic) Moretti, and friend Henry Standing Bear have significant roles in this story, many of his usual cast of players have cameos, at best. I missed the interaction and development of these characters and hope they return in future stories. The title character, the dark horse, ends up being Wahoo Sue who is mentioned early on and then dropped until the final chapters.

Like the other books this one has a happy ending in that the bad guy is apprehended, the innocent are damaged but alive, and there is a trail of bodies along the way. Like the previous books, it is a page turner sprinkled with obtuse references and interesting facts. Craig Johnson remains my favorite Wyoming mystery writer and I recommend him highly.

Thanks for the review, Steve. We're happy you found your way back!

FYI readers...this Blogger program is persnickety. You probably notice that some Mondays there are nice spaces between paragraphs, and on others, there is just one, huge block of type. That's Blogger, not me! Many people using this tool are frustrated by that, but we just can't get it worked out.

You may also notice that Blogger does not spell or punctuate well, especially when I am writing.

Miracles...Grow!

This week I received phone calls from two authors with a common bond...a miracle. The handsome young man at the left is Justin DeCleene. He has written a medical mystery that includes incidents similar to events that Justin experienced in January of 2008. Justin was diagnosed with Glomerulonephritis, a kidney disease caused by a strep virus. In Justin's book, Medical Adventures, two brothers are stricken with the same disease, and the family is faced with the challenges of an uncertain future.

Justin and I had a nice phone conversation. He quickly volunteered that his book is self-published, something that many SP authors are hesitant to say. We talked about his health, and Justin told me that he is "just fine and dandy." We made plans for him to visit our store to tell his story, and hopefully sell some books, in early fall.

Frankie's owner, companion and caretaker, Barbara Techel, contacted me last week to share Frankie's story. It seems Frankie started life just like any other dog, walking on all fours, until a spinal injury left her paralyzed. Frankie was custom fitted for a wheelchair and her life has been rolling along nicely ever since. Frankie the Walk 'n Roll Dog was named National Best Book by USA Book News. In 2009, Frankie was inducted into the Wisconsin Pet Hall of Fame.

The real Frankie and her friend, Barbara, will be visiting LaDeDa. We'll keep you posted.

*****Prepare for the attack of the giant hosta. Check it out. They are already more than halfway to the top of my deck. My plan? Ply them with Miracle Grow
until they reach the top. Hey...everyone needs goals, right?

*****On Friday night, our book group met to discuss The Reader (book and film) and Doubt, the film. The discussion was great - one of the best I can remember. Somehow, we moved from the subject at hand, to the topic of blue zones. Now, I'm going to speak in rather vague terms, here, since I haven't yet read the new book on the subject, but here goes. It seems that someone (scientists? anthropologists? sociologists?) have identified a number of areas throughout the world where people live happy, productive lives well into their 100's. The same group of researchers compiled a list of commonalities in these areas. The one we discussed at length was pacing. People in the blue zone areas aren't driven by time, or arbitrary deadlines. They like to snooze in the afternoon, and enjoy not feeling guilty about not being productive every waking moment. We decided to start a blue zone revolution in Manitowoc! If more plans emerge, I will let you know; but we are in no hurry...too busy sipping guava juice.

Mary brought a delish cake so that we could celebrata Johnny Depp's birthday!

While we're on the subject of conversing with friends, I'll share my Face Book experience. Brendo stopped in a few weeks ago, and before I knew what was happening, she had set up a FB account. It only took a few minutes before I started receiving requests to befriend all sorts of folks. Really, I hadn't even set up my profile, or navigated around the site to figure out what use it would be to me. When I finally dug around a bit, I found the site to be neither fun, nor useful to me. If anything, I could see myself getting sucked into the world of all my new and old friends, looking at their pictures, and tracking all of their friends, as well. I could see urban legends growing out of all the "friend of a friend" connections. I could see nothing but disaster heading my way.

So, I sent out my break-up email, gently stating it was me, not them...and I dismantled my account. Face Book...for about 5 hours! That's all it took for me to realize that I would sooner spend twenty minutes once a year in face-to-face chattering, that a lifetime reading the micro-communications offered in the FB world. I can't figure out why so many friends wanted to add me to their collections. My life certainly cannot be that interesting to anyone. Basically, I have no cell phone, no Ipod, no GPS and now no FaceBook. I own two pair of jeans, three shirts, a dog who dislikes me , and a piano I can't play. Those are the most scintillating facts of my life. How boring!

*****What am I reading? I caved and started Mike Perry's Coop this weekend. My plan was to not start this book until I was sure there would be enough deck time to start and finish in a single weekend. But, the chickens and pigs were calling me, and I couldn't pass up the inviting gap-tooth grin beckoning me from the cover. That, and an email from Mike, got me thinking that it was time. I can hear Mike's voice as I read.

Our book group is reading The Book Thief for next month. Those who have started it say it is challenging, so finishing Coop may have to wait.

I'm not feeling particularly inspired today, and this post is even boring me...must be awful for you. Maybe next week will be better.

Let the Fireworks Soar!

Nothing, nothing, nothing tops summer celebrations in the Lakeshore and surrounding communities. Not only do I get to sleep with open windows, and wake each morning to the rockin' robins outside my bedroom, but I know that each weekend, and sometimes mid-week, I can have tons of fun at festivals, picnics, concerts...there is no end to warm weather fun around here. We've got a great farmer's market, and now we get to go once a week in the evening! Last week we had the garden show...great!

Upcoming events include MetroJam, Acoustic Fest, the new and improved Riverwalk (forgot the the new name, sorry)...there's music in Washington Park each week, music at the Rahr-West mansion, and Music Under the Stars in Two Rivers. If you're not tapping your toes, singing a little song, or whistling a happy tune with all that music in the air, then I guess you are just an old grouch.

We have fishing derbies of all sorts, art events, sports events, oh, this list never ends. How will we fit it all in?

If that weren't enough, we have only to travel a few miles in one direction or another to find even more fun. Milwaukee, of course, is Festival city. Bob Dylan will be at Summerfest this year ( maybe I'll get there and tell you all about it), and after that run, the city parties with a number of ethnic festivals. This Saturday, I am headed to the Lakefront Festival of the Arts. I can't begin to describe how huge, amazing, colorful, wonderful, inspiring, fun and funky, head shaking cool this art fair is. I haven't been able to get there since I opened the store; that means I have missed twelve years of this huge, amazing, colorful, wonderful, inspiring, fun and funky, head-shaking cool art fair.

Head a little past Wapaca and you will find a resort area called King. Stop at Clear Water Harbor on a Sunday afternoon for lunch on the deck, and enjoy a band or two playing on the barge a few feet away.

Heading North? Peninsula Players get my vote. I am looking forward to their first production called "The Lady with All the Answers," a one woman show about Ann Landers. Their entire season looks tempting.

How can anyone be bored? I finished Dog On it. Chet, the canine detective, narrates the story of how he and his person, Bernie, solve crimes. Chet has a neighbor dog friend named Iggy, and they have a Waltonesque good-night ritual. Here's the passage:

I'd never seen a real swan and was wondering how catchable they might be when I heard Iggy's bark. Iggy had a high-pitched bark, an irritated-sounding yip-yip-yip. I barked back. There was a brief silence, and then he barked again. I barked back. He barked. I barked. He barked. I barked. He barked. We got a good rhythm going, faster and faster, I barked. He barked. I --

A woman cried "Iggy, for God's sake, what the hell's wrong with you?" A door slammed. Iggy was silent. I barked anyway. And what was that? From somewhere far in the distance came an answering bark, a bark I'd never heard before. It sounded female, although I couldn't be sure. A silence. and then - yes: she barked. A bark that sent a message, a she-message of the most exciting kind. I barked back. She barked. I barked. She barked. And then : yip yip yip. Iggy was back. He barked. She barked. I barked. He barked. She-"

If you have a dog, you understand that passage, right?

After watching the Tony's last week, I decided it was time to read a play again. Rabbit Hole, David Lindsay-Abaire's 2007 Pulitzer Prize winning drama has been shifted to the bottom of my must -read pile over and over. Not a happy play, that's for sure. One critic called it an "anatomy of grief" focusing on a young couple working through the accidental death of a child. The playwright uses no inflated soap opera technique here, just the realistic dialogue of people too stricken to put words to their sorrow.

Next up? The Wonder Singer. I choose this book for the cover - profile of a beautiful peacock balancing atop a ladder back chair near a curtained window. So far, an aging (I suspect a has-been) opera singer has been found dead in her bathtub leaving the ghostwriter of her autobiography unsure of what to do next.

*****"Dilly-dally". Let's all try using that word at least once this week, shall we? "Plinth' is a fine word also.

School's Out...School's Out...Teachers let the....

Last week, I delivered several boxes of books to Valders High School where I spent many years teaching theatre, and a variety of English classes. The curvy, twelve mile journey on JJ let me slip back to the days I travelled that road daily at 7 A.M., and then again at the end of my day.

My morning routine included going over my day, class by class, scheming and dreaming of new ways to present material no longer fresh to me, but surely new and challenging to my students. Going home my thoughts opened with either, "That didn't go so well," or "Pretty good. We had fun, and we learned something." Then I'd hum along with whoever was in my CD player.

My life is still marked by an internal educational calendar. I cannot shake it. And so, as the end of the year approaches, I breathe a sigh of relief along with my friends who continue to honor the profession with their presence. They stay in touch - those friends from my former life - and, along with many new friends and acquaintances who also teach, allow me to share in their successes, their failures, the happy moments, and the frustrations. Of this group, I can honestly say that not one has ever complained about the long hours and poor pay. I wonder where the public perception comes from that all teachers are underworked, overpaid whiners. Sure, they are concerned about the state of economy and how it will impact their students. They worry that they will have too many students to do justice to them all. They worry they will send some students into the world with a little less math, or English or science than the students before them. Teachers worry that each and every student may not get the best of them each and every day.

Despite the economic challenges facing schools, school boards and teachers and support staffs, the educators I knows will continue to inspire and to motivate. They will celebrate successes with their students, and brush off the dust of failure and try again. They will remember their students when they see graduation pictures, engagement announcements, or the uniformed portraits of those who choose to serve our country. Classes move on; they graduate, but teachers keep them close, fitting them into hearts and minds already grown full from years of chalk dust, red pens, and planning. Teachers teach forever- every hour of every day - and when the final bell rings on the last day of the year , I say, at that very moment, each one of us who has ever been taught, should stand, raise a glass of wine to a favorite teacher, and shout out a valuable lesson learned.

My glass would be raised to Karyl Enstad Rommelfanger and Paul Ingvolstad. For Karyl I would shout "Yikes! Ich kann meine gummischuen nicht finden." Not sure if the spelling is right, but I am quite sure that means "Yikes! I can't find my boots!" For Paul, my high school theatre director, I would holler a phrase I find myself using with frequency and conviction, "Hey, don't sing so loudly, someone might hear you!"

My favorite book teachers aren't teachers at all, in the traditional sense. Atticus Finch, in To Kill a Mockingbird, oozes with integrity. He is noble, honest, and strong. He is haunted by the wisdom of his decisions, yet brave enough to make them. The Miracle Worker highlights a slice of time in Helen Keller's life . Annie Sullivan was hired to teach Helen who lost her sight and hearing at nineteen months of age. We all know the story. Yes, Annie did teach Helen, but Helen also taught Annie. She taught Annie that to teach you must open your heart. Helen taught Annie that teaching is not only a science, but also an art. She taught Annie that to learn, one must see the world through new eyes, and listen to life's murmurings with patience and persistence.

The picture at the top is from a production of The Miracle Worker I was fortunate to direct many years ago. That's Sheila Hansen as Annie Sullivan, and Katie Shaw as Helen Keller.

There are many fine books about teachers and teaching including old standbys like Up the Down Staircase, Good Morning Miss Dove, and Goodbye Mr. Chips. Remember Harrison High ,that steamy Peyton Place type novel for the junior high set!

Among my favorites are The Art of Happiness by the Dalia Lama, and Dr. Seuss' Hooray for Diffendoofer Day. This little know Seuss piece is an ode to creative teachers and the silly things they do each day... with marvelous results.

Just a few more notes before I get back to reading....

Steve Olson sent me this cool picture of the Heart-A-Rama gang singing themselves silly with pride as they end the final show for 2009. That's Steve in the white shirt and black tie, surrounded by the lovelies - Corrie and Kim. They're all dressed like Tom Cruise in "Risky Business" cuz they kicked up some dust in a song and dance number called "The Underpants Dance." Just guess what they're wearing in the part of the picture you can't see. Thanks for the picture, Steve-O.

My friend Mary tells me that Johnny Depp's birthday is coming up. How shall we celebrate?

**********What am I reading?

***Finished The Reader and plan to watch the movie. The book is dense, slow, and suffocatingly sad. Amazing characters, provacative plot, universal themes...yes, there is artistry amid the melancholy.

***I watched Doubt over the weekend. The movie lacks the subtelty of the stage play, and that disappointed me. In my mind, the movie leaves no doubt about the answer to the posed question. The play on the other hand...well, two people can see the same production and leave the theatre feeling they had seen totally different scenarios. However, the movie cast is brilliant, and the plot covers miles of challenging territory.

***I just started Spencer Quinns funny little mystery, Dog On It. Chet, a police dog who flunked out of canine school, helps his detective pal, Bernie, solve whatever cases come their way. Chet tell the story. That's right, I said Chet, the dog, narrates the entire book, making for a lighthearted blend of those doggy habits that defy expalnation, and some solid, intutive sniffing about for clues.