Losses

          I’m the sort of person who, when following the same car a long way on the freeway or highway, feels a sense of loss when they turn off and I’m on my own.  Do they sense my disappointment or hear me saying goodbye! ?

          I missed a week of Skye’s Tuesday writing class.  When I came back I found out that nearly half the group had broken off to form a separate book-writing group!  This was a huge disappointment, because for the last six month’s I’ve looked forward to the weekly installments of Mike’s novel set in New Orleans, Joan’s story of what brought her to Kerrville and Fran’s family history.  I’m left hanging, wondering what will happen to those characters in the Big Easy and how many of Fran’s relatives will survive the trip from Amsterdam to the New World.  Did Joan buy her dream house?   It’s true that for a while there were too many people in the writing class wanting to share, and there wasn’t time to get to everyone. Yesterday, with the smaller group we had more time for comments. But still . . .

          Monday was the Friends of the Library board meeting. I brought my camera and asked another board member to take a photo of the officers (I’m VP, publicity). I planned to take my camera today when some of us volunteer to sort and shelve donated books, which are sold to fund several library programs.   Yesterday the president of the board sent an email informing us that the woman who originally asked if I’d like to be a volunteer had resigned, along with her granddaughter who heads up the book sales. We’re left wondering who will coordinate the last big sale of the year before library renovations begin.

          But worse, for me, is the fact that the book sale chairman was one of the most interesting women I’ve met here.  I looked forward to my time among the books, primarily because of the conversations she and I had.

          I always tell everyone else not to focus on the negative so I will turn my thoughts to the things that I have to look forward to:  Sunday talent show at Unity Church. I’ll read my three-and-a-half minute poem “A Far Different Vista”  which I reworked a bit to use as the introduction to my memoir piece, “State Beach”.  I’ll also read, “Losing My Father” and “My Mother Dreams of Kites” which will appear in the Austin International Poetry Festival anthology.   This five-minute reading will be a sort of rehearsal for the ten-minute reading I’ll give in Austin, along with four other State Featured Poets (Friday, April 8).   Saturday, April 9^th I’ll teach a workshop, “Poetry For Two Voices” at 10 a.m., followed by an open reading, which I will host, at noon.  The rest of the time I’ll attend other readings and workshops, explore Austin or just hang out at my hotel.

          I made the two-hour trip to Austin last week with a woman from my writing class. It was a beautiful drive and naturally, we talked all the  way there and back. She’s an interesting woman, with many stories. We located where I’ll check in for the festival and then had a delicious lunch.

          This morning I am so groggy. Two nights in a row I was awake in the night. I had promised to do a short call-in interview on a local radio station, which I did, but I think I sounded like a frog!

          The best thing that happened to me this week was hearing my mother laugh as she told me she went to a friend’s birthday party and danced.  She said she was afraid of tripping on the carpet but did it anyway and even shimmied!   She’ll be ninety-one in a few weeks. One of the gentlemen at the party said, “You’ve still got the moves!”  Go Alice! You are an inspiration.

Dancing With the Stars - Season 12 - cast & stats

Dancing With the Stars Season 12

                    Spring 2011

                    Birth dates

                    pros in italics

1951  Jan 12         Kirstie Alley

1956  May 17        Sugar Ray Leonard

1961  Nov 12         Ralph Macchio     

1964  Jul 18          Wendy Williams

1970  Nov 9           Chris Jericho

1972  Jun 23         Louis van Amstel

1973  Jul 17          Tony Dovolani

1976  Mar 8           Hines Ward

          Aug 4           Kym Johnson

1978  Jan 2           Karina Smirnoff

1979  Mar 15         Mike Catherwood

          Jun 24         Petra Nemcova

1980  Jan 17         Maksim Chmerkovskiy

          Dec 28         Anna Trebunskaya

1982  Jul 14          Dmitry Chaplin

1984  May 3                    Cheryl Burke

1986  May 24        Mark Ballas

          Jun 12         Kendra Wilkinson

1988  Jun 28         Lacey Schwimmer

          Sept 15        Chelsea Kane

1989  Jul 21          Chelsie Hightower

?                            Romeo

By astrological sign:  I would have though that a lot of fire signs would be dancers, what with all the fanfare and glitter. But this is not the case at all. In fact, the generally quiet water sign, Cancer, has the most of any sign! 

Earth

Capricorn: Kirstie, Karina, Maks, Anna

Taurus: Cheryl, Sugar Ray

Virgo: Chelsea

Air

Aquarius: -

Gemini: Mark

Libra: -

Fire

Aries:

Leo: Kym,

Sagittarius: 

Water

Pisces: Hines, Mike

Cancer: Wendy, Louis, Tony, Petra, Dmitry, Lacey, Chelsie

Scorpio: Ralph, Chris

Pro Dancers Stats

I was sad that Derek & Julianne Hough are no longer on DWTS.

They really were the best with Derek winning the last two seasons (Jennifer Gray and Nicole S. ) and Julianne winning with Apolo &

However, this does give others a chance!

Louis van Amstel

Fall 2010 Margaret Cho (out in week #3)

Spring 2010  Niecy Nash (7 wks)

Fall 2009  Kelly Osborn (3^rd)

Spring 2008 Priscilla Presley

Tony Dovolani

Fall 2010 – Audrina

Spring 2010 – Kate Goslin (yuck)

Fall 2009 – Kathie Ireland

Spring 2009 – Melissa Rycoff (3^rd)

Fall 2008  Susan Lucci

Spring 2008 – Marissa

Fall 2007 – Jane Seymour

Spring 2007 – Leeza Gibbons

Kym Johnson

Fall 2010 David Hasselhoff  (first off!)

Spring 2010 – xxx

Fall 2009 – Donnie Osmond (won)

Spring 2009 David Alan Greer (5 wks)

Fall 2008 – Warren Sapp (3^rd)

Spring 2008 – xxx

Fall 2007 – Mark C.

Spring 2007 – Joey (3^rd)

Karina Smirnoff 

Fall 2010 – Mike “The Situation”

Spring 2010 – xxx

Fall 2009 – Aaron Carter (8 wks)

Spring 2009 – Steve Wozniak (4 wks)

Fall 2008 – Mario

Spring 2008 – Rocco the chef

Fall 2007 – Floyd Meriweather

Spring 2007 – Billy Ray Cyrus

Maksim Chmerkovskiy

Fall 2010 Brandy (crybaby, came in 4th)

Spring 2010 – Erin Andrews (3^rd place)

Fall 2009 – Debi Mazar (3 wks)

Spring 2009 – Denise Richards (3wks)

Fall 2008 – Misty May (injured)

Spring 2008 – xxx

Fall 2007 – Mel B (2^nd)

Spring 2007 – Lila Ali (2^nd)

Anna Trebunskaya

Fall 2010 Kurt Warner (he did really well!)

Spring 2010 – Evan the skater (2^nd place)

Fall 2009 – Chuck

Spring 2009 – xxxx

Fall 2008 – xxx

Spring 2008 – Steve G

Fall 2007 – Albert

Dmitry Chaplin

Fall 2009 – Mya (2^nd place)

Spring 2009 Holly (4 wks)

Cheryl Burke 

Fall 2010 Rick Fox (my favorite, 6^th wk)

Spring 2010 – Chad Ochocinco (7^th week)

Fall 2009 Tom Delay (3 wks) poor Cheryl

Spring 2009 – Gilles <sigh> (2^nd place)

Fall  2008 – Maurice

Spring 2008 – Christian

Fall 2007 – Wayne Newton

Spring 2007 – Ian Z

Mark Ballas

Fall 2010 Bristol Palin (3^rd place)

Spring 2010 Shannon D. (lasted 2 wks)

Fall 2009 Melissa Joan Hart (6 wks)

Spring 2009  Shawn Johnson (won)

Fall 2008  Kim K

Spring 2008 – Kristi Yamaguchi (won)

Fall 2007 – Sabrina

Lacey Schwimmer

Fall 2010 darling Kyle Massey (2^nd place)

Spring 2010 - xxxx

Fall 2009 – Mark from Iron Chef (7 wks)

Spring 2009 – Steve-O (6 wks)

Fall 2008 – Lance Bass (2^nd)

Chelsie Hightower

Fall 2010 Michael Bolton (gag – 2^nd off)

Fall 2009 Louie Vito (6 wks)

Spring 2009 – Ty the cowboy (8 wks!)

Winners 1^st week scores:

Fall 2010  1^st place: Nicole (25pts)

Spring Equinox

John did something that upset me Friday. And since whenever I get upset with him he wants nothing to do with me, I got to read all day Saturday. (I did a little laundry too).

The book I’m reading, Cutting for Stone, was recommended by one of my adult students. It’s an exquisitely written novel that takes place in Ethiopia, at an international hospital. There’s a wonderful cast of characters. And because the author is also a doctor, the descriptions of medical procedures are fascinating.  I had to force myself to stop reading and get up and do laundry.

Sunday: Church.  Again, because we’re not speaking, I had more time to myself in the morning, so I could get my hair dry and makeup on before I left. I made some coleslaw (with pineapple and almonds like at Mountain House in Oakhurst) for the potluck.

One of my main worries about moving away was leaving the Positive Living Center in Oakhurst.  And, while I do remember my experiences there fondly, I must say, I love the Unity congregation. Today there was a newcomer, who said she moved her in October. Yay. Someone I had something in common with.

Just before the service started I slipped Reverend Patty a note about today’s big sale at the library (I’m publicity VP for Friends of the Library). She asked me if there was a poets' group here, because – she indicated with her head – a woman in the front row was a poet who had asked Patty about it.  I said I’d talk to the woman after the service.

So, at the potluck, I got myself a plate and saved a place at the table, then went looking for the newcomer and the poet.  The newcomer is an emergency room nurse at the hospital.  She has short red hair, with a cute tiny hairclip, glasses and perfectly shaped, lipstick-ed lips. She has the warm nature of a nurse. I liked her immediately.

The poet, it turns out, needed her rolling walker to get from the main room to the adjacent activity center. I carried the notebook of poems she wanted to show me.  At the table were three other women who introduced themselves. The poet said she could not remember our names, almost immediately after we told her. This made me dread reading her poems. Yet, as it turned out, the poems were delightful. Rhyming, yes, but they each told a story: about a homeless woman who has the only photo of her son stolen, and a little boy who jumps into a puddle. They showed real empathy.

The nurse was born in Santa Cruz. Her brother and sister-in-law lived in Carmel Valley and “got out” just in time. They must have a gorgeous place in Kerrville if they lived in CV!  Before she lived here, the nurse lived in Connecticut.

The woman who sat on the other side of me came from Arizona but was originally from Florida.  In my mind I see the map and how far we’ve each traveled to this “magical place” – really, that’s how people who live here feel about it!

I encouraged the poet to share some of her poems at the upcoming Talent Show on April 3. I’m going to read my long prose poem “A Far Different Vista” about the ocean, and maybe one or two others. It’ll be fun. Lots of singing. I gave “Bump in the Road” to Bill, who played the banjo today, and he said he’s working on music. I’m going to be a songwriter!

When I left, I stopped at the library before going home, to see if I was needed at the book sale. I wasn’t but I liked being there, seeing people browsing the shelves we’ve all worked so hard on keeping shelved and sorted. (There are about 30,000 books in that basement!)

When I left, a woman was in the parking lot. “How’s it going in there?” she asked me.

“Orderly, no mad rushing!” I said.

”No shoving, no chaos?” she replied and we started walking in the same direction. She had the disheveled, but ready, look of a reporter, with a fanny pack,  and rumpled gray shirt.  She said she was a writer for the West Kerr County Current,  a weekly newspaper I’ve never read. I told her I was a writer too, and we stopped walking and introduced ourselves.  She got me a copy of the newspaper from her car, and later, at home I see that she and two other reporters write all the articles; plus there are some syndicated pieces and articles submitted by various organizations.

When I told her I was writing for Kerr County Business Magazine, she said, “I wondered who that was,” and asked how I got the gig – she’d been trying to write for them for years.  This reinforced my gratitude for the serendipity of meeting Morgan at the Chamber mixer, four days after I moved here . . .

Plus, now I have another contact for PR – library news, my classes, etc.

There was one other person who made an impression on me this week. Yesterday afternoon, when I was walking Walter, we saw, far off, up the hill, a man.  My first worry was that he had a dog with him. But no. He was alone.  As he got closer I saw that he had a big Italian or Mediterranean nose, and a big straw hat with a down-sloping brim. He wore walking shorts. 

Walter completely ignored him, intent as he was to sniff something in the grass.  I had the radio on but slipped my hand in my pocket to turn down the volume. “Hello,” I said.

“Hello!” he said uplifting one arm and giving me a big open-hand greeting. I felt immediate simpatico for this solitary soul out walking on a beautiful, clear, windy afternoon.

Daylight Savings Time Begins

          Another busy week just passed. Monday we had visitors from California who took me and John to lunch at Billy Gene’s and we ate outside overlooking the river. It was a beautiful spring day and we had such a good time, yakking our heads off.  Tuesday, at writers group I shared “Bump in the Road” a song I’ve written. I want to hook up with a musician and see if we can become a song-writing team. My teacher said she’ll go with me to Pompell’s, where they have live music every week and lots of musicians hang out. However, the shows don’t start until 9:30 p.m. which is just a half hour before my bedtime!  I’m just not a night owl. Never have been. When the sun comes up, I do too.

          Wednesday I missed yoga and volunteering at the library because I had an assignment to interview the owners of Vista Camps in Ingram. The 120 acre site was so peaceful and pretty but once summer starts it will be filled with about 400 kids and 100 camp counselors. 

          Thursday was the last meeting of this session of my Club Ed adult class. Five of the participants came over for lunch afterwards, so we had a little more time to get acquainted. Susan recommended the novel, Cutting For Stone. As soon as I finished U is for Undertow I ordered a sample for my Kindle and was immediately captivated by the stunning language and interesting characters.  So when I finished the sample I just clicked “buy” and ouila! – immediate upload. 

          I finalized my June – August teaching schedule. I’d sure like to find another elementary school in the meantime but so far the three principals of the other Kerrville schools have not called me back.

          The devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan have been on everyone’s mind this week.  I just heard about a man who was on the roof of his house when it washed out to sea – ten miles! Imagine.  The magnitude of this disaster is more than I can comprehend. For every happy rescue story there are thousands of missing souls who may never be found.

          I thought I had found a nurse practitioner, someone highly recommended, but she’s not in my insurance network, so I’m spending the morning calling around town. I have prescriptions that are expiring which can’t be filled by my California provider. 

          Now I’m going to book a hotel in Austin for the poetry festival. Next week one of my adult students is going to go to Austin with me, for a “dry run”, so I can see where everything is and won’t be so nervous when I go by myself. 

          Oops. Just looked at the clock and see that the stretch class I was going to take started 15 minutes ago.  It’s going to take a few days to adjust to daylight savings time. The Kroc Center opened the pools this weekend. The yoga room overlooks the pools. I wonder what it will be like to take yoga with kids shrieking and splashing on the other side of the window?

         

A Happy Week

Sunday March 6, 2011

          I just finished my best week, so far, in Kerrville. It was filled with both routine, which makes me feel secure, and spontaneity, which makes me feel young.

          Monday: Friends of the Library board meeting. Need to have two big sales in the next two months to clear out some of the 30,000 donated books in the basement.  Renovation will require use of basement! Yikes. I left the meeting after an hour so I could go to yoga and decompress.

          Tuesday: Writers Group. Read my first four pages of “Murder at the Sand and Sea”. Too many characters too soon. Slow down. Need to change names, location. Writers most sued occupation.  So! Story will be called “Murder at the Sand & Surf. It will be set in Malibu, not Santa Monica. Location: once glamorous hotel, now private club.

          Wednesday: last day with 4^th graders – make books! This is always my favorite day, because they’re all engaged in making their books and I can see all their wonderful work at once. It’s the saddest day because it is my last. 

          That evening John and I went to a free concert at Schreiner University’s Coffeehouse. Introduced myself to Dr. Kathleen Hudson (black velvet, rings, bracelets, smelled wonderful). Open poetry reading of Dr. Hudson’s students – typical college stuff, rails against “society”, mumbled personal confessions. Featured musician Susan Gibson wrote “Wide Open Spaces” which the Dixie Chicks recorded.  Long, thin blond hair, bangs, oversized shirt with sleeves rolled, jeans, boots. No makeup.

She was a little shrill. The opening singer, Lisa someone, had a sweet melodic voice that I liked better. But the main thing was: John and I were on a date!!  Only five minutes from our house. Got home by 9:30.

          Thursday: my wonderful Club Ed class made me cry, their writing was so touching and good!  Home for quick lunch, then yoga. Each class has had different people in it, usually 6-7. women and one guy. (But a different guy in each).

          Friday: After looking at the photo of me and the 4^th graders, I realized how much I hated my hair, so I went into the bathroom and cut about 2” off the bottom.

          In the afternoon I had a gym orientation at Kroc. Need to strengthen my upper body so I can control Walter better.  Will use the tricep, bicep, and pull down machines; and maybe ride the bike if I need some aerobics.  Pool area was closed, so I looked through the window.  The kid’s pool has a gigantic tube slide.  Long lap pool, smaller square one the jets to swim against; and all around deck with chaises.

          That night John and I went to Fredericksburg (24 miles, 30 minutes) to the Insight Gallery “Texas Stampede” show, grand re-opening at their new location. NOISY!  Liked some of the art. Deborah’s work, as always is brilliant and upbeat. Afterward had German dinner. 

          Saturday: got a “crown weave” from sweet Jessica and she straightened up what I did yesterday.  Delicious Mexican dinner at Sombrero de Jalisco, 2 miles from our house.

          And now today, quiet-street walk with Walter, 29 degrees; blueberry pancakes, “CBS Sunday Morning”,  common sense message from Jay at Unity Church and fellowship with loads of people, signed up for the talent show in April; and the Lakers get a huge win over the Spurs. How much happier can I be?

Oscar Night

          The Oscars used to be such a big deal for me. Especially in the 1980s when I bought a gigantic Encyclopedia of Cinema that listed all my grandfather’s films.   He was Gibson Gowland, a character actor in the early days of Hollywood, playing many parts in D.W. Griffith’s huge productions of Birth of a Nation and Intolerance. But he is best known in the United States as the lead in Erich von Stroheim’s Greed.  The film was originally eight hours long, which was extremely rare in 1927 the year it came out.

          Set in San Francisco it is the story of a middle class dentist who marries a woman obsessed with money. I remember the scene where the wife, played by Zasu Pitt, empties a bag of coins onto the wire-frame bed, and rolls around on it, her thigh-long hair tangling around her.  Parts of the movie were shot in Death Valley. These were the days before air conditioning and the parched lips of my grandfather and his co-star Gene Hershel (for whom the Humanitarian award is named) were real.

          Gibson returned to England when talkies came in. He had a thick Northumberland accent that was better understood in its native land. I never knew him.  He died the year before I was born, alone, in a one-room apartment in London, aged 77.

          My father, whose first love – and profession – was photography, worked as a “dress extra” in Hollywood in the 1930s.  He was tall and handsome and looked great in a tux or a military uniform.  His career was cut short by the war. He became a photographer at North American Aviation, before finally being stationed in Germany during The Occupation.

          My sister Ann was destined to be an actress. At the age of three she played the daughter of Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn. She was scheduled for a call-back, when she was about seven, when she disobeyed my mother and rode her tricycle, while my mother was on the phone.  Her friend pushing from behind, Ann tried to break with the pedals but her foot got caught in the spokes and she was thrown from the trike, breaking her leg.

          The closest I got to being in the movies was when my father paid $200.00, a large sum back in 1967, for me to be in the Extras Guild. I was in four movies. The only one I remember was “Airport”, where I got to wear the most luxurious camels hair coat and stand looking out at the runway, in Airport.  In the scene  Helen Hayes passes through the airport.       

          Next, I went on a call that required the prospective extras to stand in a line, in bikinis, by a pool of an indoor set. There were probably twelve of us – eighteen to twenty year olds.  I hated standing in that line being scrutinized and when I was told I should come back tomorrow for the shoot I had a feeling dread. I didn’t sleep that night. In the morning I called in sick, making my voice raspy. Then, panicking I decided to walk to my sister’s apartment on

Ocean Avenue

, at least a mile away.

          Why didn’t I drive? My parents could have thought I was going to work? I’ve asked myself this many times over the years. My only excuse is that I was really scared of my father’s reaction. He had only gotten upset twice in my life – as opposed to my mother who periodically lost her temper and became like a crazed fire-breathing dragon for ten minutes then collapsed in a heap.

          Suffice it to say, this was the end of my movie career. I would go on to community theater both in high school and as an adult, but as for movies: nix on pix.

          However, this did not mean that my connection with Hollywood was gone. My sister married a sound engineer who has three Oscars. My niece was a assistant director before she moved back east. My best friend married a film composer who probably would have won an Oscar if he hadn’t dropped dead at the age of 46. I even got to go to the Razzy's once.

          Plus, I was in love with a line-director (whatever that is) whose Facebook photo has him holding a gigantic, manly cinematography camera. 

          In conclusion: even though I have not seen any of the movies that are nominated for Oscars this year, I’ll watch the show. It’s a family tradition.

Japanese Texas Style

          Tonight John and I went to Bonsai, the new Japanese restaurant about two miles from our house. I’d been there before, for lunch with the Wonderful Women of Unity and liked it. But then we’d sat at the teppan table and enjoyed watching the chef cook our meals in front of us, complete with juggling raw eggs on the blade of his huge knife and bursts of fire.

          Tonight was a completely different experience. We sat at a table, side by side on the banquette.  At the table in front of us was a young couple with an infant, a toddler and a little boy running around the table with red lights on his sneakers.  To our right were three-generations: grand parents, parents and tiny youngsters.  The rest of the tables were occupied with couples in their seventies, or fifty-ish couples of extra large size.

          Through a pretty window etched with the image of a Japanese maiden, we could see flames from the teppan tables erupt. Straight ahead we could see into the kitchen. Diagonally to our right was the long sushi bar. As people left the restaurant they could bang a big gong or taiko drum. So, with the sounds of crying babies, screeching children, doting grandparents, gongs, drums and chatter, we ordered our meal.

          I chose seaweed salad and tempura appetizer. John selected chicken-steak combo.  He had chardonnay. I had pinot grigio.  It took a long time to get our drinks and even longer to get our dinner. I didn’t particularly mind, as I was enjoying observing the large man in his black cowboy hat and blue jeans, as he got up to go to the restroom, leaving his wife to text on her smart phone.  The couple to the left of us seemed in their mid-seventies. They had ordered a whole bottle of red wine.

          Since it was taking a while for my seaweed salad to come, the young male waiter offered me free soup.  A moment after our soups arrived, a waitress brought my seaweed salad in a martini glass with shredded carrots underneath.

          John’s dinner arrived and was overcooked. I pilfered some of his chicken. Finally, after a very long wait my tempura arrived, way too hot to eat.  I scooted next to John and put my arm around his shoulder. You’d think, that because he works at home we’d be touching all the time. But this is not the case. He gets up in the morning when I’m out with the dog. By the time I’m back he’s made his coffee and ensconced himself in his office.  I get only glimpses of him when he’s passing by my office.

          Today he disappeared. I thought he’d taken a drive and was glad, thinking he needed to get out of the house. After all, I’d been out every day this week: senior writing class, my class at Tom Daniels Elementary, my class at Club Ed, two yoga classes.  I planned to spend the morning typing up the article on Augie and Bonnie Bering, who I interviewed last Tuesday, and welcomed being in the house alone. I could do laundry and juggle cats: on Saturday Jane gets upset by the trash trucks so wants to come in; but Audrey was already in my office. I’d have to wait till she woke up, transfer her to the bedroom, so Jane could be in the office. . .     Well, John had not gone for a drive. He’d  gone to buy planters and soil.  Because we’ve sold the truck, he had to make several trips. He ended up with sixteen 18-gallon blue plastic tubs and numerous bags of potting soil.

          I snuck into his office and got his camera and took a photo of him without his knowing.  I chuckled to myself.  I’d thought his gardening days were behind him. I often wonder if the new owners of our house have torn town “Fort Knox” or will use the planters we left. Oh, how I loved my Japanese Eggplant, basil, tomatoes, potatoes, zucchini, peas, beans. . . but that life is gone. Or is it?

          Later I found John in the kitchen looking at packets of seeds and on his work table in the garage, small tomato plants.  At the restaurant we toasted and I said, “Here’s to your new garden!”  as out glasses clinked.

          When dinner arrived he said, “I’m not planting carrots,” and I remembered the sweet carrots he grew at our house in YLP, almost nineteen years ago.  Nineteen years!

          I’m rambling.  I wanted to say that I wore my new thrift store top ($1.50) and Bangladeshi gray jeans ($12). I think it’s okay to buy things made in Bangladesh. Remember George Harrison’s concert for Bangladesh?

          Over the coming weeks I hope to hear back from the Kroc Center (after school program), the Nature Center (spring break camp), and Fredericksburg School District (summer camp). As I cast my seeds, so John will plant his. Only by doing will we see what grows.