Living on the Edge

I was up before the hens this past Tuesday morning, racking my brain how best to find a place for Marjory Stoneman Douglas in my fashion program. Keep in mind the talk was to begin at one! 

A fashion show just wouldn't have held the least appeal to this woman. I was at a complete loss.

And then, just as I watched the second teaspoon of sugar slip into my tea, it came to me. I should simply pretend she had just entered the room and that I was surprised to see her. That way, I could then throw out lines every once in awhile based on what was going on in the room or upon what I thought she might have thought about what was going on. I asked for a chair so she could be seated to my left.

Essentially, I made MSD my imaginary friend.

"Oh my Goodness! Is it really Marjory Stoneman Douglas! I'm so thrilled you're here..."

Wonk, Wonk, Wonk.

Oh no, I've only just begun...

Wonk, Wonk, Wonk. 

"What am I speaking on? Vintage fashion...it's a fashion show actually." 

Wonk, Wonk, Wonk.

Well...no...Marjory. I...I don't think this will be a monumental waste of your time." 

And it worked! And it was fun for everyone - including me!

But a thought crossed my mind right before my model and 1880's polonaise entered the room. How different might it all play out if I should attempt to bring my imaginary friend with me upon leaving the Marjory Stoneman Douglas Festival and returning home. 

I think it's safe to assume all laughter would come to an abrupt halt, only to be replaced by quiet looks of horror, suspicion and possibly even pity. 

The poor thing, she just snapped!

I tell you, venue is everything! 

BTW, that second teaspoon of sugar? It tends to accomplish much.  Maybe sugar isn't all bad?  

I know, hope springs eternal...

The picture above is my 1880's style polonaise. It was the first reproduction gown I ever made and it's still my favorite.

Marjory's Inspiration

For the last two afternoons I've been deep in chocolate mousse and The Voice of the River, an autobiography of Marjory Stoneman Douglas.

The reason for this is that I'm doing my vintage fashion show, The Stories My Clothing Can Tell, next Tuesday in Everglades City for the Marjory Stoneman Douglas Festival. It was suggested I might try tossing in some information about her during the program. The chocolate mousse was just a whim.

Well as far as I can tell, MSD would likely have cared less about attending a fashion show. I might have been able to hold her attention with the historical elements the show possesses but for the most part, I think this woman saw fashion, vintage or otherwise, as a monumental waste of her time.

But I'm thrilled to have truly discovered her. She's likely best known for her efforts to save the Everglades - which she didn't become involved with until her 90's! Now this is my kind of gal!

It gives me hope that, also as a writing woman with a fondness for elocution, I'll have time to make happen all the ideas mentioned in my last post - as well as the others I didn't mention for fear you'd think me manic. MSD lived til she was 108!

I also hope that after I'm gone someone will say of me, "Death was the only thing that could shut her up, but the silence she's left behind? It's deafening."

Bugger and Blast! There's no more mousse.

Wanted: Dream Manager

There are starry-eyed dreamers and then there are those long-armed dreamers who see their dreams within manageable reach. 

Long-armed dreamers are cloaked in a perpetual aura of busyness that creates a degree of angst in those around them.

"Do you ever just sit?"

"Well, of course...when I'm dreaming."

If you're a long-armed dreamer, you may have only one dream, a variety of related dreams continually bumping into one another, or dreams without the least connection to each other. 

I'm quite thankful I don't fall into this last category. There's likely a tendency to run oneself ragged and I expect exhaustion (or insanity) is a chief complaint of this demographic.

I fall into the second category. Aside from working on Steeped, I've currently two speaking program ideas jockeying for position with: three new play ideas, two short story ideas, one unfinished short story much offended that two others are looking to further extend it's lack of completion, and a new children's book idea.

Or should I chuck it all and begin work on the edgy teatime mystery novel I see brewing?

Which curtain should be pulled open?  I just don't know...and so...

"Help," she cried!

I do believe I'm in serious need of a dream manager.

And a really long life! But, more on that later this week.

Mabury

My maiden name is Mabury.

Go ahead. I long ago learned that people can't seem to help themselves...Mabury RFD? Hmmm...hmmm...I've been hearing that since third grade recess and kickball.

As I've been to only a handful of Mabury family reunions - held each summer at Sam A. Baker State Park in southern Missouri - I don't really know the Mabury's very well, especially the "new" ones.

Back when I was one of the "new" ones, I was known mostly as "the little girl who had the open heart surgery, dontcha know." But between divorces, my dad and aunts dying, cross country moves and life indeed getting in way of the best laid plans, I've never connected with Maburys not in easy reach.

And while genealogy can completely capture my attention, my life as a writing woman hasn't allowed me the necessary perseverance of the confirmed genealogist.

Yet I still managed to find a Mabury! It happened completely by accident. I was really trying to find my Dad. Or rather, where he's buried. I know it's the height of irresponsibility but neither Darcie nor I can remember where he's spending his eternity. 

It was in my efforts to remedy this embarrassing mishap that I chanced upon David Mabury, author of the blog Parlor Mobster.

Awesome name for a blog, don't you think?

Anyway, David and I have been chatting back and forth via email. His dad was my dad's cousin and he spent time with my favorite Aunt, Aunt Anna! How strange to be related to someone, never know him til later in life, yet share some of the same experiences with him. He, too, played with my Aunt Anna's slightly fiercesome chihuahua, Dukey. And he heard Aunt Anna's glorious laugh that I can still hear even at this very moment. What a world, what a world!

I might have to make it to the Mabury Family Reunion this year! Maybe I can find out if it's really true that we've a Hatfield (of the Hatfield and McCoys) and a full blooded Cherokee Indian in our past.

If you'd like to visit David's blog, click on this link: www.mabury.com 

Has the Mabury family reunion caught your eye? I wouldn't attempt crashing but the food is to die for, especially if you're a fan of country cooking: www.maburys.com 

And, Sam A. Baker State Park is a truly glorious bit of the mid-west: www.mostateparks.com/baker.htm 

Do you want to hear something really crazy? My mother's maiden name is Stinson and as David and I have been chatting, an unknown Stinson relative has found Darcie! What on earth is going in the universe?!

The picture you see is my Dad with myself on the left and Darcie on the right. Judging by the look on our faces, we were really looking forward to that dead bird.

Lastly, I have always been a fan of Andy Griffith.

The Majestic Mermaids

Have you ever heard of Weeki Wachee or of the Weeki Wachee Aqua Maids? Neither had Suzn or myself when we began collaborating on a new play, The Majestic Mermaids. We were, if memory serves me correctly, over 3/4 through with our script when we learned of its existence.

Darn! So began our first rewrite.

We are, at last, approaching the finish line and think it's time to begin thinking about hosting a play reading. We've lost track of the official number of rewrites, but I think we've settled on four. 

There's a good chance our character, Coral Lee of Charleston (that's low country don't you know) could well steal the show but I've below pasted the opening lines of our Lady D for your reading pleasure.

Just keep in mind that Weeki Wachee was quite the Florida tourist destination until Disney and the turnpike came along.

Nothing stays the same, does it? Enjoy...


LADY D’LUNA 
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Let me welcome all of you to a gloriously majestic...and dry...afternoon of swim-along, I mean sing-along. That’s what we’re doing these days since we’ve been left high and dry. That’s right. We mermaids have been beached. In some circles we might call that...surf on turf!  Anyway, I am Lady Lavinia D’Luna, the proud daughter of one of the original Weeki Wachee Aqua Maids.
        (raises hands, palms out but close to
         her body as if it is all too much)
I know, I know. My mother’s grace. Her poise. Her...
        (dramatically and comically 
         strikes adagio pose)
Adiago! I, of course, was following in her footsteps, until that damn mouse...you know the one I’m speaking of...
        (speaks confidentially) 
...he lives in Orlando. Well, I don’t even know why I mentioned him...
        (sings phrase)
it’s a new day...
        (gulps)
after all...it’s a new day...
        (gulps)
after all.  OOhhh...I am making progress, I said it twice today.
        (sighs deeply)
That felt good. Although, let me add one more thing? As if that perpetually perky...and might I add squeaky...mouse weren’t enough to rankle me to my very core...let alone sink ticket sales at Weeki Wachee and steal my thunder, but then comes the perfect storm.  Thanks to “the developers” a clod of clay the size of a train “mysteriously” found its way into the Florida Aquafir. What, I ask, are the chances of that? Coral Lee says...
        (mimics Coral Lee’s southern accent)
it’s as charmin as swimmin in a snow globe. Phltttt...please, Weeki Wachee is now just one big glass of sour milk. And has been for the last four months
        (puts up four fingers)
Four. We did our best though.
        (reminiscing)
Audiences loved our London Fog Mystery. They clapped and clapped. They really couldn’t see us unless we were six inches from the glass, but they clapped and clapped. However, you can’t sell tickets to the same show for four months straight. Four!
        (holds up four fingers)
and now they say its going to be another five months
        (holds up five fingers)
five! - before the water clears.  My nerves, not to mention my pores, couldn’t take it a second longer. But a Majestic Mermaid can swim in or out of water. So now, thanks to my own personal vision, my tireless efforts, and my complete disregard for my own personal well being and mental health, the Majestic Mermaids debuts today! Without further a due let me introduce to you...
        (throws her arm out wide)
...the quartet you won’t soon forget. Behind me is...
        (looks behind her and spins completely 
         around, giggles nervously upon seeing 
         that she is alone on stage)
Will you give me just...just a moment? CORAL LEE!!!!
        (looks at the audience before 
         speaking light and airy)
I mean Coral Lee, darling...Coral Lee?  Aren’t you supposed to be right...
        (motions to where CORAL LEE
         should be standing)
...here. 

        CORAL LEE enters from the rear of the house
and stands in the entrance. She is holding
a large hand held mirror and begins
applying bright pink lipstick.

CORAL LEE
I’m a comin...I told you I needed 5 more minutes.
        (to a guest)
Lordy, I can’t tell ya how good it feels to trade those big ol dumb flippers for my new sparklys.
        (pushes up her breasts with her hands)
And, it wouldn’t hurt my feelins none if I never had to wring out another falsie... 

That's all for now folks. You'll just have to come to the play reading to learn more! 

If you want to check out the real Weeki Wachee Aqua Maids, which do still exist, click on this link: weekiwachee.com 

And, are you wondering about the picture at the top? These were muffins I was experimenting with and Kenny thought it amusing to use them as a doorstop. Is he a funny guy or what?

Well Now Buckaroos

I've had my cowboy boots and cowboy hat, in anticipation of my first rodeo, for sometime now. I had mentioned to my Osage Beach friend, Sharon Love, that these acquisitions paved the way for the creation of a dress design long 2-stepping in my head. 

Her reply? "Oh, you want to be a cowgirl slut."

"What! No, that's not...I didn't mean...I would never..."

Clearly I'd been less than clear. In my head I saw this feminine, vintage inspired dress with a western influence. I was looking to dive headlong into the rodeo experience. I'd no intention of...savin a horse to ride a cowboy!

Well I never did get the dress out of my head and into fabric but Babs, Dr. Leslie D______ and I still attended the Homestead, Florida rodeo this past weekend.

Where, I might add, literally no one was dressed in anything feminine and vintage inspired. Not one vintage cowgirl was in sight! 

My disappointment was profound. Although, the handsome and lanky cowboys, the bucking bulls and broncos and the fried turkey legs did go far in soothing my spirit. 

Babs, who has the inside track as she's friends with a few bona fide cowgirls, tells me that most of them see such dress as silly. 

Ouch! That leaves a slight flesh wound. 

Really! Rodeo's without cowgirl fashions? It's hard to fathom. I mean, they put pink and blue glitter on the hind quarters of their horses but dressy cowgirl fashions are silly dress?

Is this Brokeback Mountain fall out or what?  Is it just Missouri and Florida? What's going on here buckaroos?

I might just be finding myself on a mission to bring back something the rodeo people have lost. 

The rodeo was a blast! Exciting, scary and funny! And oh my gosh, when those cowboys fall to their knees in a quick prayer of thanks after their ride is through, it just about brings tears to your eyes. 

Try as I might, I could never catch a good picture of a bucking bronco. The picture was either blurry or the horse just wasn't in the shot. It took only one try though to get Miss Holly's boots - a rider who took in a rescued horse she calls Charlie Horse. Pretty cool boots, eh? I wonder if they come in a dusty rose color?

When's the next rodeo you ask? March. Arcadia, Florida - www.arcadiarodeo.com 

Yee-haw!