Tag: writing

Posted in Sunday Report

Names and faces

Posted on by Jo Mayne Casey

I am an old woman named after my mother…

first line of “Angel from Montgomery” by John Prine

The story was told from the time I could listen that Mom & Dad were so sure that I was a boy that they called me “Charlie” for 9 months and were at a loss for a name when I turned out to be a girl. Dad wanted name me Ruby after Mom, but she didn’t like that name. Her middle name was Christina, so they agreed that was a good moniker. They added the one-syllable “Jo” and voila! I was formally assigned the appellation.

They never called me Christina. Ever. Even when I started school, they instructed the instructors that I was Jo Mayne – sounds like ptomaine, if you want to make fun. Over the years, Mom’s explanation for not using such a pretty name varied. The first answer was that it was too long for my 17-month-older sister to say. Eventually, she confessed that the name was her Grandmother’s and that she didn’t much like her grandmother, and that they called her Teeny and she didn’t like that.

Her grandmother, my great-grandma, was Christina Caroline Kirsch, and she was also named after her mother, Caroline Christina Rudi Kirsch. Both Caroline and her husband, Nicholas, were born in Germany. The community they lived in and raised Christina included many German immigrants who brought their strong work ethic and intelligence to building their new life in Crawford County, Indiana.

Not long before my Mom died, she told me that being a grandmother made her realize that she had misjudged her granny. One big reason she disliked her was because Christina wouldn’t let her run around with her younger cousins, but kept her with her. Mom realized that she’d been shown a side of her grandma that the others didn’t know as she taught her about gardening and cooking.

Since nearly every story from my cousins who knew her related that she was “terrifying”, I guess Mom did see something the others missed. I don’t know if she realized that they also shared a birthday – no doubt why Mom was given her name- but I’m sure Christina knew and gave her special attention.

My brother and sister and I called her “Little Grandma” and I remember seeing her once as a very young child. She lived across the street from my “Big Grandma” and one day when I was playing on the porch, she came up the steps and stopped to look at me before going on in the house. It’s one of those early, hazy memories, but she had a piercing gaze – not quite terrifying, but she was pretty old by then.

I have only one picture of her, sitting on a stool next to her husband, Halleck Goodson, but that picture jumped out of the box at me a couple of months ago and demanded attention. I have done my research and don’t have any new information about her, really, so I wasn’t sure what she was trying to tell me. I think now that she is pointing me to the cemeteries in Crawford County.

Christina Kirsch Goodson, my great-grandmother (I think she looks like me!)

Decades ago, Mom and her sisters did a trip to English, IN, where their Dad’s family had lived and were buried, but nobody seemed to know anything about the Goodsons or Kirsches. I’ve got a lot of information, compiled over at All My Ancestors, and now, Thanks to my ancestor’s nudge, we’re heading up to Leavenworth and Corydon this week to check out the gravestones and get a feel for the area. These are some old ones, so I hope they’re not in too bad of shape.

There’s something missing in Christina’s story – how did she end up with Halleck, a boozing, illiterate, hillbilly 7 years her senior? I hope something clicks as we tour the hills and river bottoms where she raised my Grandma and her siblings.

The Jrs. will be by for some potato soup and apple pie around noon, so I’ve got to move on for now.

We’re blessed with Abundant Sunshine today and forecast for the next week! I hope the sun is shining in your neck of the woods!

Peace

Posted in Sunday Report

An Explanation

Posted on by Jo Mayne Casey

I apologize for leading you on about posting more often, then abandoning you for over a week. I know you’ve been waiting with bated breath to hear from me. Though I have been busy with visits from friends, doctor and hair appointments, there’s a more diabolical force at work here…

Just as I was planning a new writing routine, I hit a block, my old friend Existential Angst. It’s a side effect of my mortality, sometimes scary and sometimes hopeful, depending on the trigger. When my friend’s mom died at 99, I was chuffed, thinking, yeah, I’ve got 26 years left. When another friend got a grave diagnosis at 75, my brain freaked out with unfounded fear.

One way I cope with the thoughts is at the piano – Beethoven’s Adagio can soothe the savage beast. As for Writing, the only way I can comfortably express these feelings is by putting them in Handwriting, letting the thoughts flow freely through my fingers, a bit the same as tinkling the old ivories. For several years now, I have done a bit of writing, by hand, with a pen, on paper, every morning. I don’t know if I’ll ever share those pages – some of it is good, some is awkward – but all of it is sincere and provides me with clarity to move forward, eventually.

Another way I’ve learned to live with this incurable affliction of anxiety, is to go outside, even if it’s only to sit on the swing. I was already on a crusade to stop mindlessly scrolling, so I’ve been putting the phone away except for texting/calls, and finishing up the garden chores, bringing in the sheaves and such. The weather has been more than fine, so that’s helpful. The last of the dried basil and oregano have been put in jars, and I made some pesto with the last fresh plant. My rosemary is blooming! Mint is enjoying these last warm days, and I still have morning glories and moonflower vining along the trellis.

I also went to the library and got some books – historical fiction, a mystery, and a memoir – and the feel of those in my hands was comforting. I usually read on my Kindle, but put it away in favor of my Nook so I wouldn’t be tempted to jump down any rabbit holes.

Reading is a Great Escape, so in addition to reading novels, I have spent quite a spell perusing blogs from my Word Press reader. There so many Wonderful artists writing real good for free. I am inspired by them and their ability to express their hearts in beautiful words. I’m also a little intimidated! I know we shouldn’t compare or compete, but the blogs I follow are so good that my little paragraphs seem tawdry. Thanks to all of you for putting yourselves out there – I sure needed to read what you wrote.

So that’s where I’ve been. I’m still working on the Ancestry stuff, planning a cemetery trip to Crawford and Harrison Counties, Indiana, in search of the Kirsch, Rudi, and Goodson graves. I have a little more info on my namesake, great-grandmother Christina Kirsch Goodson, but I’m mostly using my imagination! That’s what makes a good story, though, isn’t it?

I won’t promise you that I’ll post more often, but I’m really going to try, so check back!

Peace

Posted in Special Edition

Everything’s going to be okay…

Posted on by Jo Mayne Casey

As I tumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, I felt the grief hit me again. I was gutted all day yesterday, crying and listening to her songs, crying and reading the copious tributes to her Life, crying for all of us who know there never was and never will be another Dolly Parton Dean.

I was about 14 when Dolly started showing up on my TV, singing with Porter Wagoner, a show I often saw, but seldom watched. She was a fascinating figure with that hair and those boobs, and she became part of our culture. After 9-5 and Steel Magnolias, we realized she was way smarter than anybody in the business, but way more humble than any other human on the planet.

The outpouring of Respect from across the Universe speaks for itself as we mourn her passing. Many have written eulogies better than I can, but as I head out to the dentist I want to share this think…

Dolly’s songs were her babies, and it’s estimated that she gave birth to nearly 3,000 of them. I can’t pick favorites, but this is among my top 5; someone, somewhere, everywhere, needs to hear it today.

Dolly talked about how it was written, just after her bitter parting with Wagoner (who sued her for 3million – she always said he got the first million dollars she made)…

As I left his office and began to drive toward my home out in Brentwood, it began to rain.

So did I. I cried. Not so much out of a sense of loss, but from the pain that almost always comes with change. It has a sad kind of freedom.

Then, I began to sing a song to myself: ‘it’s been a long dark night and I’ve been a-waiting for the morning. It’s been a long hard fight, but I see a brand new day dawning. I’ve been looking for the sunshine; you know I ain’t seen it in so long. But everything’s gonna work out just fine. And everything’s gonna be all right that’s been all wrong. I can see the light of a clear blue morning.’

And, I swear to you on my life as I said that the sky cleared up, it stopped raining, the sun came out. And before I got home, I had completely written the song called ‘Light of a Clear Blue Morning.”

Released in 1977, it’s typical of Dolly’s uncanny ability to make us all feel better.

“Cause I am strong and I can prove it
And I got my dreams to see me through
It’s just a mountain, I can move it
And with faith enough, there’s nothin’ I can’t do“

Everything’s gonna be all right, it’s gonna be okay…

Crying again…Sending Love to y’all…

Peace

Posted in Topical Tuesday

Reading & Writing on the WorldwideWeb

Posted on by Jo Mayne Casey

I started my first blog in 2004 as an add-on to my daughter’s WordPress account. WordPress was a baby, having started in 2003. It was fresh and new, and clunky, and the blogging phenomena was trending. My writing grew with it, and as I got comfortable with sharing my thoughts, I kept up with the changes, and adjusted to the costs. Today WordPress powers 40% of the internet’s website, not only blogs and magazines, but also business landing pages, e-commerce stores, and major media outlets.

Substack started in 2017, but became very popular in 2020 when we were all having our Covid-creativity. It is an email newsletter platform, so when an author publishes a blog, it goes directly into a subscriber’s email inbox. Key word there is subscriber. You have to subscribe, as in give the author your email. You are offered certain levels of subscriptions, from free, to $5-$10/month, or $100/year or whatever.

Nowadays, it’s rare that you can get all of the author’s writing without coughing up some paypal. And it’s frustrating as heck, because you go along reading and it suddenly stops you and says, want to read the rest? gimme $5. I don’t. Holding your reader hostage for the end-of-story seems unsporting to me, so I’m outta there.

The most striking change to Substack came in 2023 when they put in a thing called Notes. It turned the place into social media. There is a lot of engagement there, lots of engagement. If you want community, there’s your spot. I am an introvert, even online, so I don’t care for it. Everyone seemed calm, and my algorithm had matched me well with interests, but it is not pretty, and seemed cold.

I came back to my good ol’ WordPress Reader and felt at home again. I hit the discover button and subscribed to a few new, inspiring, pretty blogs. There are some really good wordsmiths out there, writing real good for free.

Why would I want to use Substack instead of WordPress? I thought perhaps I’d republish my ancestry blogs and make some new friends who enjoy genealogy. When I first checked out the site, I was amazed at how many well-known authors and pundits were using it. The elite clientele was attractive – what if one of my idols followed my blog??? I was reading some good writing and felt both inspired and intimidated.

However, the whole learning-a-new format seems like Work, and I’m retired…

As far as growing my audience, well, I’m happy with y’all.

Did you know that if you subscribe to my blog (see the above and to your right button) you can get my posts sent directly to your mailbox?

It’s free…

Peace

Posted in 2019, Autumn at Sonnystone Acres, blogging

The Writing Life…

Posted on by Jo Mayne Casey

I’m in a slump… >sigh<  I want my Words to Flow effortlessly from my fingertips.  I want every stroke of the key to reveal a sentence that is perfection.  I want each of my Elevated Thoughts to be expressed so exquisitely that you gather at my feet enraptured by my Wokeness.

Being a Writer is an old, old dream that I cooked up six or seven Lives ago. Through the years, I scribbled in notebooks and journals, but always thought that if I only had the time that Great American Novel would write itself.

I’ve blogged for 15 years now, but being a blogger is not considered to be the same as being a Writer.  In fact, I’ve been told by several writer/friends that it is my blogging that gets in the way of my writing.  Actually, I feel like the time I spend working on the book just gets in the way of my blogging.

I guess I’ve put some ancient expectation on myself that I have to publish a book in order to be a Writer.  In this day of self-publishing, how difficult could it be to satisfy my ego with a published book?  So I’ve written some chapters and re-written them and put them away.  I get them out and re-read them and think, that’s not bad, just finish it.  Then I end up editing them and putting them away again, on a loop.  It feels forced and Not Fun and sort of depressing.  Currently I want to burn it all…

I realize that I’m not a conventional blogger who monetizes her blog and cranks out the “5 things you can’t live without” posts.  I know that my following is meager.  Still,  the idea of not blogging gives me the existential heebie-jeebies.  For the most part, I have thoroughly enjoyed writing these 1000+ posts over the years.

Thanks to the Feeling of Freedom that has persisted since our trip, I’m letting go of the worn-out dream of Being a Writer aka writing a NYT bestseller (but I’m not going to burn the pages I’ve written).  I’m letting go of the daydream that I’ll be a hit on all the late-night shows (but I’m still preparing clever repartee, just in case).  No more guilt or feeling like I’ve not lived up to…something.  I’m sticking with what I enjoy, no matter how hard it is…even if I have to blog about doing the laundry or cleaning the house…even if nobody reads it.

An interviewer once asked one of my favorite authors, Ursula LeGuin,  advice for writers, and she replied: “I am going to be rather hard-nosed and say that if you have to find devices to coax yourself to stay focused on writing, perhaps you should not be writing what you’re writing. And if this lack of motivation is a constant problem, perhaps writing is not your forte. I mean, what is the problem? If writing bores you, that is pretty fatal. If that is not the case, but you find that it is hard going and it just doesn’t flow, well, what did you expect? It is work; art is work.”

Look out!  The Blogger is Back.

 

Thanks for reading!

Peace