Father's Day

I met a wonderful woman this week, someone I hope to work with in the future: Lorraine LeMon, who operates the non-profit Art2Heart, here in Kerrville.  She’s an absolute bundle of energy. When I arrived she was coaching pre-teen girls (and one boy) in one of the dances they’ll perform next week at Schreiner University.  I could barely keep myself in my seat, as I watched her and the kids do their routine.  One of the songs was “Greased Lightning” from Grease, and they were doing the hand jive. I could at least do that sitting down!

          When they broke for lunch Lorraine took me into her office. Kids came in and out. One of the girls forgot her lunch so Lorraine gave her hers.  I’ve been so sad the last few weeks, knowing all those kids at Vision Academy of the Arts are getting together again, doing their art, writing (with Anne?), learning to play instruments, making a huge banner for the lunch room and then, at the end of the week, performing their musical show with Jackie Byers banging away on the piano and, when necessary, throwing out a cue when someone forgets a line.

          I used to walk to my car at the end of the day feeling fulfilled and proud of those children.  Some of them I taught all the way from second grade through eighth, and then worked with them as “helpers”.  It was a long week, tiring, but more fun that I can express.  On the last day with my writing groups we held “auditions” for whomever wanted to read their poem at the show, and everyone got one vote. This way I didn’t have to pick who would perform.  I wonder if Peter spent the entire week working on one story and if Christian is still funny. . . <sigh>

          So, back to Lorraine. I’ll meet with her when Dance Camp ends and see if I can be worked into the programs at her studio. So far it’s mostly art, dance, music, but she’s very open to poetry and writing.

          My big frustration is that Kroc Center did not advertise my classes, so taking the advice of someone at church – “it’s better to ask forgiveness than ask permission” – I wrote a press release and sent it into the paper. I got one call. However, this is from a teacher at a private school, so even though the summer classes may not pan out, I may have an “in” with her and her students.

          Plus, if I don’t teach, I’ll be freed up to travel. And thanks to my generous mother who sent my belated birthday gift, I can afford to go to California. The problem: so many friends to see! Right now I’m looking in to flying from San Antonio to San Francisco, seeing friends there, then driving down the coast, stopping in Cambria, Camarillo, and Ventura, before spending a few days in Santa Monica with my mom, niece and friends; then fly home from LAX.

          I had a pretty good week working on my manuscript. An episode from my childhood sparked curiosity about the psychologist my parents sent me to when I was ten.  Turns out she passed away in 1986. I wish I had thought to find her when she was alive and thank her.  I knew the reason I didn’t want to go to school was that it was boring. But, after a few visits to her she confirmed this with my parents, who then enrolled me in After School French class. As I say in my book, “What could be more fun than pretending to be French, and just talking!”

          I’ve always loved to learn languages – French class in 5^th grade, Spanish all through high school, Chinese 1976-79 and even a Japanese language class I took with Karen in the 80s.  “Su-me-ma-sen!” is what you say to a store clerk and means “Can you please help me?”  That’s about all I remember from that 6-week course!

          We had Japanese food last night with my favorite Nigori Sake, which is the unfiltered, milky kind, served cold. Mmmmmm. So delicious, or “oi-she” in Japanese.

          Now I’m off to Church and potluck afterwards.  I’ll pick up something on the way in. It’s too hot to cook.  This morning was a humid 78 but it’s expected to dry out and get up to 102.  The worst heat wave since 1934. And the drought continues. Met a woman, last night, when I took Walter out, who was banging shoes together, trying to scare away the deer from her garden. I didn’t tell her we’ve been giving them our fruit and vegetable scraps. I know! We should not feed the wild life, but they and the birds are so hungry and thirsty, it breaks my heart.

          Thinking of my father on Father’s Day, appreciating all he taught me, the fun we had and his love of animals.