Biscuit Cough

Planning an outing to get Mom for a roll through Swanson’s Nursery. She was a big time gardener, so the smells and colors and all the shades of green are music..

These things require a bit more planning than in more carefree days, so I stopped by to iron out a detail or two. The restaurant had changed its menu. Did we need to reconsider? It’s turning into an Expotition, she said. To discover the North Pole, I continued.

Later as I was leaving she coughed heavily. I stopped short. “It’s a biscuit cough,” she said. “Not the kind you tell about.”

Family language gets to the heart.

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Writing Retreat Was Even More Remarkable Than The View

The 4th Annual Full Bodied Writing Retreat is in the books. It ought to keep everybody who was there, staff and writers alike wound up and spinning for at least a year. From the portal ceremony to the musical farewell, this event had it all. Gourmet organic food, massages, health care consultations, ms consultations, career sessions and spectacular presentations — if I do say so myself, since mine was one of them–I have been involved in some premier organizations, such as PNWA, but this was something beyond.

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Midsummer was Great

MIdsummer was great. The weather held off until we were done and everyone had gone home for the night. Meanwhile, we had a 98-year-old hula dance in attendance, a 270 lb man played Titania queen of the Fairies for one scene, and whenever anyone laid down on the ground to sleep, as happens often in the play, Kona the dog would wander over and lick their faces.

The kids dance for the Queen, beautifully choreographed by Mari Heminway, was a great success. The ham, in sandwiches and on stage, especially the death of Pyramus as performed by Felix Coble. Hoping to post a photo of that soon,, though early results suggest all photographers may have been laughing too hard to focus.
“O lord, what fools these mortals be.”

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A Midsummer Night’s Dream in the Backyard

Most Tragical, Ham-Handed Rendition
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
The Kahle Brothers and Illustrious Sprites

Why in the world would you go to all that trouble, scripts and funny hats and plastic swords and lion masks and all? Why would you do it year after year, 22 +/-? Because of moments like this. (Act II Sc 2), or the dignified woman wailing “use me but as your spaniel!” (Act II Sc 1) or the slow reader chewing his way through six lines of Elizabethan English (Act II Sc 1) to tumultuous applause.
We go for moments of Dramatic Relief. We have the luxury of playing with pure gold.

If you could, why the hell wouldn’t you?

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