Frosty Punkins and Creepy Castles

WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

from When the Frost is on the Punkin,
James Whitcomb Riley (click for previous post)

Mac-O-Chee

Riley was a good friend of the writer Donn Piatt and was often
a house guest at the Piatt country home, Mac-O-Chee. It is

while on an inspiring autumn visit, that he penned the words

to his famous poem When the Frost is on the Punkin. The

Piatt Castles, built by brothers Donn and Abram S. Piatt are

two chateaux built in Gothic design, located one mile east of

the village of West Liberty in Logan County, Ohio. The brothers

built these wonderful homes after serving as Union officers in

the Civil War. Mac-A-Cheek, built by Abram, was completed in

1871, and Mac-O-Chee, built by Donn, was completed in 1879,

only about 3/4 of mile apart. The names Mac-O-Chee and

Mac-A-Cheek are both derivatives of the Shawnee village

Mackachack. This Shawnee village existed just east of West

Liberty until Chief Moluntha was murdered in November of 1789.

So, my bloggy friends, if you are ever in my little neck of the

woods, a day trip to visit the Piatt castles would be worth your

while. I wouldn't recommend visiting at night, however. I had a

case of the willies in broad daylight. Especially creepy was the

room at the end of the hall of the third story at Mac-O-Chee,

once the family chapel. Lots of strange energy there.

Time Travel

High Desert Diva posted some
funny yearbook pictures
of herself she created at

http://www.yearbookyourself.com/.

So, naturally, I had to go over and play, too.
The above picture is how I would have looked

in 1961 and the one below is an oh-so-lovely

1954 version of myself. It's too silly

and perfect for a little Halloween fun.

Go check it out for yourself and

be sure to post your creations for us!

.

I look like I just stepped out of
Father Knows Best!

Here's my real high school graduation pic 1975.

A Fun Meme

Ophelia, Odilon Redon

My uncle once: shot off his finger with a blunder bust.
Arrrg, Matey!

Never in my life: have I ice skated and am too afraid to

start now.

When I was five: I memorized a Halloween poem and

recited it for show and tell. My teacher told me to sit down,

it wasn't a talent show. I still adore poetry, but am petrified

of audiences.

High school was: an experience I'm glad I never have to

revisit.

I will never forget: watching my Grandpa process photos

in his darkroom. The smell of developing solution brings back

many fond memories. I always breathe deeply when I walk into

a photo shop.

Once I met: Georgio Tozzi, opera singer, who did the actual

singing dubbed for Rossano Brazzi in the movie South Pacific.

He was so charming, very handsome and wore suspenders and

a bow tie.

There’s this girl I know: who sings “How are Things in

Glocca Morra” at holidays and makes me cry.

Once at a bar: my aunt drank a barrel sized glass of

Baileys and put the fake grass from a flower arrangement

in the restroom into her purse.

By noon, I’m usually: standing, staring into the fridge.

Last night: I watched I Know Where I'm Going and cried.

If I only had: hair like Pocahontas.

Next time I go to church: I want it to be one of those

lovely cathedrals in England with a boys choir and grand

organ music.

What worries me most: is insignificance.

You’ll know I’m lying when: I tell you that I just

finished running the Boston marathon.

What I miss most about the 80’s is: white hose

and shoulder pads.

If I were a character in Shakespeare, I’d be:

Ophelia in Hamlet.

A better name for me would be: Mrs. Dalloway.

I have a hard time understanding: and editing

html language.

If I ever go back to school: I would be out of my mind.

You know I like you if: I see your caller ID and still

pick up.

Take my advice, never: EVER color your hair or

anyone else's at home during a tornado.

My ideal breakfast is: poached eggs, bacon, and

extra strong coffee with cream in front of the fire with WT

on a frosty winter Sunday morning.

If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: bring

some old clothes to go fishing in the river.

Why won’t people: just treat others as kindly as they

would like to be treated?

The world could do without: narrow minded bigots.

I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than:

skydive.

My favorite blonds are: my daughter, my aunt, two

uncles and Kenneth Branagh

If I do anything well, it’s: cook for a crowd.

And, by the way: I hate ugly places.

.

This meme is from Steph's blog, The Incurable Insomniac.

Feel free to have some fun and post it for yourself!!

Ichabod, what a name...kind of odd, but nice just the same!

On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure
of his fellow-traveller in relief against the sky, gigantic in
height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod was horror-struck
on perceiving that he was headless!--but his horror was still
more increased on observing that the head, which should
have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the
pommel of his saddle!

.
~Washington Irving, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

Since so many of you showed up at the manor ball with Johnny Depp, I thought you might enjoy a post on Sleepy Hollow, 1999. Now, this isn't one of my top faves, but it is a classic Tim Burton artistic piece and well worth a watch. It is dark, but also full of comedy and I wouldn't really call it a horror film.

As you probably already know, it does veer from Irving's original
story, adding more thrill and mystery to the plot. Depp is absolutely adorable as a fearful Ichabod Crane, who portrays the role of a detective, rather than the lowly school teacher. Christina Ricci's cool portrayal of Katrina gives the character an other- worldly aura, which adds to Burton's palette. There's also some amazing prosthetic heads rolling and quirky Burtonesque gadgets used by Depp to solve the case. Michael Gambon, Jeffrey Jones, and a flamboyant Christopher Walken round out the cast. The film won an Oscar for Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, which was indeed well deserved, especially for the fabulous Burton forest, which is actually one huge set. So, since it is the season for the willies, pop some more corn, kick up those woolly socks and enjoy this ghoulish tale!

Autumn

The gate to the wood is closed, said Summer.
Take the path over the pond,
kill all the daffodils.
The old men sat wrapped in greaseproof paper,
We are not afraid, they said.
Be shrewd, be whistling.
We are tired of picking locks and seasons.
All things yellow stream down beyond our eyes.

Janet Frame, The Pocket Mirror, 1967

photo Jurmala beach from Flickr

Smiling Spider, Odilon Redon

The Willies

There is no cure for them,

unlike the heeby-jeebies

or the shakes

which Russian vodka and a hot bath

will smooth out.

The drifties can be licked,

though the vapors often spell trouble.

The whips-and-jangles

go away in time. So do the fantods.

And good company will put the blues

to flight

and do much to relieve the flips,

the quivers and the screamies.

But the willies are another matter.

Anything can give them to you:

electric chairs, raw meat, manta rays,

public restrooms, a footprint,

and every case of the willies is a bad one.

Some say flow with them, ride them out,

but this is useless advice

once you are in their grip.

There is no way to get on top

of the willies. Valium

is ineffective. Hospitals

are not the answer.

Keeping still

and emitting thin, evenly spaced

waves of irony

may help

but don't expect miracles:

the willies are the willies.

Billy Collins

Questions About Angels

Willow's Weekly Word

Since I used the term the willies in my post yesterday, I began to
wonder about its etymology. Believe it or not, it has nothing to do
with this Willie! I came up with two explanations and I believe the
second one to make more sense. The first one I found was traced
back to 1896, which was a spell of nervousness perhaps from the
"woollies", a dialectal term for nervous uneasiness, probably in
reference to the itchiness of wool clothing. Well, maybe. But I like this
explanation better. The "willies" in the ballet Giselle take their name
from the Serbo-Croation word "vila" (in English wili or willi) meaning
a wood-nymph or fairy, usually the spirit of a betrothed girl who
died after being jilted by her lover. This seems more logical that a
willi, the spirit or ghost, over time became "the willies", or the feeling
of something creepy. So, there you have it, my bloggy friends! What
gives you the willies this time of year?
.

The season for dark and creepy movies is here and I think Gaslight
(1944) fits nicely into this category! It's a gothic Hollywood thriller
about a young heiress (Ingrid Bergman) who appears to be
systematically driven insane by her husband (Charles Boyer).

The legendary George Cukor directs this adaptation of Patrick

Hamilton's stage play. Bergman is perfectly transcendent in this

Academy Award winning performance and Charles Boyer is

deliciously creepy as her pianist husband. The cast also includes

Joseph Cotten and the debut of a very young Angela Lansbury. Be

prepared for a great screenplay and acting by Bergman that is way

ahead of her time. So put on your woolly socks, make some popcorn,

turn the lights down low and be prepared for an attack of the willies!

And if you adore Ingrid Bergman as much as I do, I know you will

enjoy this little clip by Patricia Clarkson for TCM.

And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. Abraham Lincoln

It was so nice to come home last night to all of your kind birthday

wishes! Thank you SO much, dear bloggy friends!! It was a bright

ending to a very long day. Things were a little more difficult with

WT being out of the country and the hospital being several hours

away. But all is well and I am very happy to report that Youngest

Son is on the mend. Pam, you are right, this will always be

remembered as "The Gall Stone Birthday". And for all of those who

guessed, that was the Andrea Doria, which sank in 1956, not the

Titanic! And yes, I am now 52. I especially loved Cuban's comment

about 50 being the new 30 and I'm going to keep thinking those

good thoughts. There was a birthday package waiting on the Manor

doorstep when I got home last night from WT's parents. It contained,

among other things, a sweet vintage bisque Japanese boy and girl and

a beautiful Niloak pottery dish with a pelican. Thanks Mom and Dad!

.

All the world is birthday cake, so take a piece, but not too much.

Hey, today is my birthday! Yes, that's little me in the above picture.

It was taken on my second birthday somewhere near Bloomington,

Indiana. Putting all festivities aside, I'm spending today in the hospital

with my youngest son, who is having unexpected surgery to remove

his gall bladder. Poor buddy. So I'll be out for the day. But I thought I'd

leave you with a few fun pictorial clues as to the exact year I was born!

Any guesses?

Don't worry, you won't hurt my feelings.

I'm way over the hill!!

Americans Flunk Simple Political Survey

A survey, conducted between April 30 and June 1 by the
Pew Research Center for the People & the Press, measured the
political knowledge of 3,612 U.S. adults. Participants were asked
three simple questions; to name the controlling party of the
U.S. House of Representatives, the U.S. secretary of state and
Great Britain's prime minister.

Overall, just 18 percent of the participants answered all three
questions correctly.

More than 50 percent of Americans knew that the Democrats
have a majority in the House, while 42 percent could identify the
secretary of state (Condoleezza Rice). Less than 30 percent could
name the prime minister of Great Britain (Gordon Brown).

This is hard to believe and absolutely pitiful. But it did bring this
adorable episode to mind...

Just a Few Thoughts on Hair

Three Women, Belle Johnson, 1900

..

The days of my thick luxurious hair are gone. Why don't we appreciate

our youthful physical beauty while we have it? I realize that not all big

or long hair, is good hair, but I just wish I had my old hair back. Mine

has thinned with age and thyroid problems. If you really want to feel

like your hair is puny, watch Disney's Pocahontas. Her magnificent,

blowing, swirling mane is all over the screen. Then go look in the

mirror at your little nothing head of hair. It's demoralizing.

Maybe I was born in the wrong time period, because I adore the
romantic Edwardian or Gibson Girl hairstyle, piled high with a flourish.
My daughter happens to have fabulous thick curly hair, which she
inherited from WT. She can just flip it up and pierce it with a stick and
it's to die for. I think this photo of her looks just like a Harrison Fisher
or Howard Chandler Christy illustration.

Here's a shot of Kate Beckinsale from Merchant Ivory's adaptation
of Henry James' The Golden Bowl. Now, I realize that she's most
likely wearing a wig, but the style is exactly right for the time period.
Did you know that women would actually wrap their hair around balls
of padding called "rats" for extra volume? Somehow I don't think that
would work for me. I would look like Prince Valiant with a pincushion.



It was fun to see Kirsten Dunst in all the marvelous wigs in Marie
Antoinette. I wonder if she suffered from a stiff neck or headaches
from all that weight on her head during filming? And do you
remember that funny old movie Fancy Pants with Bob Hope and
Lucille Ball? Bob plays the part of an actor pretending to be a valet
and actually embeds a birdcage in Lucy's hair!

Well, I will have to admit that my little bob style is easy to handle.
And no, I don't get headaches from too much hair. And since I can
blow dry it in just a few minutes, I have more time for serious things
like writing posts about random thoughts on hair.

Hair brings one's self-image into focus;
it is vanity's proving ground. Hair is terribly
personal, a tangle of mysterious prejudices.

Shana Alexander

When I am laid in earth

This absolutely gorgeous aria, Dido's Lament, sung by the amazing
Jessye Norman, is by the English Baroque composer, Henry Purcell
from his opera Dido and Æneas. It is a very fitting piece to share this
week with all the current seasonal posts on beautiful cemeteries and
thoughts of mortality.

Willow's Weekly Word

Midday, A. A. Plastov, 1961

We are experiencing a few days of Indian Summer here in the Mid
West. Over the weekend the temps were in the mid eighties. The term
Indian summer has been used for more than two centuries. The earliest
known use was by French American writer St. John de Crevecoeur in
rural New York in 1778. Here are several theories as to its etymology,
I found at Wikipedia:

1. In The Americans, The Colonial Experience, Daniel J. Boorstin
....speculates that the term originated from raids on European
....colonies by Indian war parties; these raids usually ended in
....autumn, hence the extension to summer-like weather in the
....fall as an Indian summer. Two of the three other known uses
....of the term in the 18th century are from accounts kept by two
....army officers leading retaliation expeditions against Indians for
....raids on settlers in Ohio and Indiana in 1790, and Pennsylvania
....in 1794.

2. It may be so named because this was the traditional period
....during which early Native Americans harvested their crops.

3. It may be of Asian Indian origin rather than North American
....Indian. H. E. Ware, an English writer, noted that ships
....traversing the Indian Ocean loaded their cargo most often
....during the Indian summer, or fair weather season. Several
....ships actually had an "I.S." on their hull at the load level
....thought safe during Indian summer. However this usage
....refers to the actual high summer in India, not to a late warm
....spell.

4. Given that Native Americans were frequently perceived as
....deceitful and treacherous by the European settlers, the
....phrase might be of the family of terms such as "Indian giver"
....based on this supposed duplicity. Therefore, "Indian summer"
....would be a 'deceitful, treacherous' imitation of summer, which
....appears to be a return of warmer weather but is really a short
....lived 'lie' giving way to the 'truth' of cold, unpleasant conditions.

So, there you have it my bloggy friends! And as you know, I have
been in my Russian mode since refreshing it last week with Onegin.
The above painting reminds me so much of the film Burnt by the Sun,
a Russian film superbly directed by Nikita Mikhalkov, who also does a
marvelous job starring as Col. Sergei Petrovich Kotov. This is another
typical Russian tale of beauty and irony. Set in 1936, the Colonel's
idyllic family home is infiltrated by an agent of the government
police, who just happens to be his wife's former lover. Filmed in the
luscious Russian country side, it is very emotionally charged and well
deserves the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film it
received in 1995.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,

'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.

This it is, and nothing more."

from The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe

Since it is the season for all things scary, Cynthia shared a few

favorite hair raising ghost stories and asked if anyone else had any

that they especially liked.

Well, as I have mentioned before, Willow Manor is haunted. We have

all heard, felt, smelled and actually seen ghosts at various times in

this old house. Every once in a while, the heavy scent of a woman's

perfume hangs in a certain place in the master bedroom, which was at

one time the guest room, and also the room where the former family's

funeral urns were stored in a window box. It is not a scent I, or anyone

I know, wears. It usually can be detected between the hours of 3:00

and 4:00 a.m. and Friday night WT noticed it again on his way to the

bathroom. It's very strong, very distinct and very unusual.

Sometimes it's so strong it wakes me. Our daughter also noticed the

scent in our dining room last Christmas Eve when we were up late

chatting in the living room and she passed through the dark room on

her way to the kitchen. One thing we do know is this lady ghost has

very classy taste in perfume.

Saturday night, WT and I were sitting in the family room, which is

an open area off the kitchen, watching Hitchcock's Rebecca on TCM.

We were chatting during the movie, and right after I mentioned

something, we both heard a loud shriek come from the landing area

between where we were sitting and the kitchen. We both jumped,

looked at each other and at the same time asked, "Who was that?"

It was definitely a female voice and a loud enough scream to be

heard by both of us over the TV volume, which was cranked up fairly

high, and our conversation. WT got up and looked around, but found

no clues.

Another thing she likes to do, is open my kitchen "junk drawer"

during the night, leave it open, take some of the contents out

and place them on the counter top. Once part of the drawer had

actually been cleaned out and organized. She must not like the

messy contents and state of my junky drawer. Sorry Mrs. G.

All three of our children have seen the form of a small older woman,

hunched over, in a white nightgown late at night, in various spots in

the house. And they still randomly see her when they come home to

visit on holidays. Our youngest son is convinced that she fell on the

steps leading up to the front door area from our dining room, because

he saw her curled up at the foot of the steps late one night this past

summer. We do know that an elderly lady died here in the summer

of 1976 at the age of 88.

All of us have been awakened in the night by the sound of a woman

whispering in our faces. This only happened once to me, and I could

actually feel the force of her breath on my face! The whispering is

always very fast and unintelligible. She can also be heard descending

the front staircase between 3:30 and 4:30 a.m. Many of our overnight

house guests have asked, the next morning, who it was walking down

the stairs late at night.

The most frightening lady ghost episode for me was one night last

spring when she actually turned the latch and opened my bedroom

door at precisely 3:30 a.m. That made me sit up and take note At

least it's not at 11:11. That would creep me out even more.

But, seriously, after living here for twenty years, we are all very used

to these occurrences and feel no harm or ill intent. If she intended to

inflict harm, she would certainly be doing more than just opening

doors, turning on lights and cleaning out kitchen drawers.

If you happen to enjoy reading these hair raising episodes, these are

just a few of our resident lady ghost. Stay tuned, I'll save the

experiences associated with the male ghost for a later post.

Giuseppe Ungaretti, by Serena Maffia

..

The Selected Poems, Bilingual Edition by Giuseppe Ungaretti is
almost due back to the library, and I've already renewed it once!
I might just have to break down and buy myself a copy. So, before
I have to return it, here's another of his wonderful poems. I thought
this one would be especially appropriate to coincide with the full
October moon and it is one that translates nicely into English.

I was always ready for departures.

When you have secrets, night, you're merciful.

When as a child I woke up
Startled, I'd soothe myself listening
To howlings in the hollow street--
Stray dogs. More than the little lamp
That burned forever in that room
Near the Madonna, they seemed
Like mystical company.

And was it not in chasing
Echos from before my birth,
I surprised myself with hear, a man?

But when, night, your face was bare
And cast on rock
I was nothing but fiber, elemental,
Crazed, apparent in every object,
Lowliness crushed me.

The Captain was serene.

(The moon came into the sky)

He was tall and never bowed.

The Captain, 1929
Giuseppe Ungaretti
translated by Andrew Frisardi

Today was a perfectly perfect autumn day in Central Ohio! WT and
I took a little fall drive to absorb some of the wonderful colors. Here
are a few photos I took at the Oak Grove Cemetery and Arboretum.
In 1850 Oak Grove Cemetery purchased the Kilbourne farm, about
80 acres, one mile south of Delaware, OH. Cemeteries, for me, always
conjure thoughts of significance and the brevity of life. I've included
a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay, in which she also conveys my
feelings on the subject.

.

.

..

Dirge Without Music

Edna St. Vincent Millay

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the

hard ground.

So, it is and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind.

Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned

with lilies and with laurel they go, but I am not resigned.

Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.

Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.

A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,

A formula, a phrase remains, ---but the best is lost.

The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter,

the love,---

They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses elegant and

curled

Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not

approve.

More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in

the world.

Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.

I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.