“SING, OR GET OUT!”

 

From Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

Sadie was a single woman, and she had been single for a lot longer than she had been not-single. There was a husband way back in her youth, and three other men who came close to landing her in their marriage bed—nevertheless, Sadie had remained single. She had lived alone for the biggest part of her 85 years, and it suited her. Whether contentment with it came naturally or as an adaptation to her circumstances, Sadie didn’t know, and what’s more, she didn’t stew over it. A fretful mind had been a troublesome quality of her youth that she had got the better of with time.

          It came to pass that Sadie could no longer live alone, however. She could move in with her son or her daughter. In both cases, she would have a room of her own and the rest of the time would live in the midst of their noisy lives. Sadie opted instead to take a quiet and private one-bedroom apartment in an assisted living facility for seniors such as herself. It was just the right fit for the independent-minded and self-sufficient Sadie.  

Adjustment to her new surroundings came easily and quickly to Sadie. Course-correcting was another skill she had mastered over the years. One of her favorite mottos was that by not allowing endings to occur, we don’t allow beginnings to form. She looked for opportunities within the structure of her new home to fill her time and to make friends. Toward that end, she joined a group that advertised itself as the Mid-Ohio Senior Chorus that met twice weekly in the recreation room of the facility. The chorus’s current agenda was to rehearse a selection of Christmas Carols as part of a holiday program for the entertainment of the residents and their guests. The show was scheduled to take place on the eve of Christmas Eve that year.

At her first meeting, Sadie slid into the only empty chair at a long table nestled among a total of three long tables in the rec room. Elder women of various descriptions occupied every other chair of two of the tables. The third table was crowded with elder men, two of whom Sadie knew to be single like herself. The other six men were married to six of the women in the group. A few minutes later, a quavering female voice broke into a trilling rendition of ‘Joy to the World’ and immediately was joined by a unison of female voices. The men took no notice of the singing that was underway around them, and they continued in their talking and joking among themselves, a noisy state of affairs that drowned-out the female voices. At the completion of the song, Sadie bent to the ear of the woman seated to the left of her and asked if the men were there to sing in the chorus. The woman replied that she didn’t know for sure.

Sadie’s hackles began to rise like an angry junk yard dog’s. She pulled to her feet at the precise moment the first words in a wobbly female voice took flight in the next song on the itinerary. The voice stopped. Along with Sadie’s independence had come a penchant toward opening her mouth and speaking her mind. “Gentlemen!” Sadie piped up. “Are you here to join in the singing or not?! And if not, then I suggest that you either decide to sing or get out!”

A deathly hush descended on the room. All eyes clamped on Sadie’s ramrod figure. Presently the women began to twitter meekly among themselves and the men’s necks swelled and their faces reddened in disdain for the mouthy woman who had the audacity to denigrate their dominion over that and any and all other proceedings. But soon, the atmosphere began to change. Sadie’s friend Sylvia rose to her feet and said, “Yes, Gentlemen! If you aren’t going to sing, then get out!” Chairs scraped loudly and some toppled over as all the women in the room found their feet. “Sing, or get out!” rang through the space as female voice after female voice joined in the mantra.

Stunned red faces blanched white and Adam’s apples in deflated male necks bounced up and down like loose ping pong balls. Two of the men wrestled to their feet in ready to vacate the room. Neighboring burly hands reached out and pushed them back down in their chairs. Tension coiled to near snapping. The anxious moments ticked by, and then at the furthest end of the men’s table, a melodic baritone gave forth: “Silent night, holy night, star so high, shining bright….”

All twenty-four members of the Mid-Ohio Senior Chorus struggled to their feet and the room filled then with the wondrous harmony of female and male voices come together in a common cause.

Enjoy! And Happy Holidays.©

***

The above story is a fleshed-out reenactment of a dream I had last night. -Linda Lee Greene

Books by Linda Lee Greene are available for purchase on Amazon.

#ChristmasCarols, #Christmas, #JoyToTheWorld, #SilentNight, #SeniorHousing, #ChoralMusic, #MidOhio, #LindaLeeGreene, #AuthorArtist

IF ONLY IT HAD RAINED…

 

From Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

 

Today, Wednesday, November 22, 2023, is a day fit only for the intrepid here in Central Ohio. Blustery and gray and hung over from yesterday’s rain—the day mirrors my mood. “If only it had been such a day in Dallas sixty years ago!” the nagging voice whirls like dirvishes unchecked in my brain. “If only it had rained or at least threatened to rain and President John F. Kennedy had been in a closed car rather than the open one…his beautiful head would have been shielded from Lee Harvey Oswald’s killer bullet.”

          In my long life I have lived through my wedding day; the birth of my son; the birth of my daughter; my divorce; the death of both of my parents and of my brother and of my sister; the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr and of Bobby Kennedy; the Vietnam War; 9/11; Covid 19, January 6^th; and more surgeries than I can count on both hands; but no hours loom as starkly in my memory as those that opened at mid-day of Friday, November 22, 1963, the day my fellow Americans and I were struck dumb by the news that John F. Kennedy, our president, had been assassinated.   

          Basking in the unseasonably bright and warm day in Forest Hills, Queens, New York, my co-worker and I strolled leisurely from our lunch at a nearby café to our workplace in the credit department located on an upper floor of the towering Uni-Card building. We approached the crowd of our loitering co-workers on the broad sidewalk fronting the building and joined in the pitter-patter and joking so typical of New Yorkers at their leisure. The lively drumbeat of chatter stopped abruptly when a man rushed out of the broad entrance of the building, his hand clutching a long white ribbon of tickertape that trailed in his wake, and his voice shouting, “THE PRESIDENT WAS SHOT! THE PRESIDENT WAS SHOT!” In the blink of an eye, a second man ran from the building. It was his duty to tell us that the president was dead, that the city was shutting down as was the case across the country, and that we were dismissed and advised to get to our homes as quickly and as efficiently as possible.

The one detail missing from my memory is the means by which I made it to the one-bedroom apartment in Flushing, Queens, New York, in which my bridegroom and I had taken up residence only three months before. Perched on the floor of our living room, our noses only inches from our small black and white television, my husband and I watched nearly motionless, other than bathroom and kitchen breaks, the unfolding drama of the several days comprising JFK’s assassination: the tragic motorcade, the chaotic manhunt, Oswald’s frenzied apprehension, and then, the man in the scruffy fedora crashing through the mad crowd, raising his gun-wielding hand and shooting Oswald dead…right there on the TV screen…right before our stunned eyes. And then there was Jackie’s blood-stained pink suit, the new president’s swearing in, the flag-draped coffin, the funeral procession with the riderless horse, the little son stepping forward and saluting his fallen father.

          To my mind, that condensed national event was unmatched in modern history—until now…until this now when Americans are more mixed up and at odds in mind and heart than at any other time since the country’s Civil War. As we gather at our Thanksgiving tables tomorrow, let us clasp one another’s hands and send out fervent entreaties for healing of the wounded USA.©

                                                                        

#11/22/1963, #ForestHillsNY, #JohnFKennedy, #JFK, #POTUS, #Assassination, #LeeHarveyOswald, #BloodStainedPinkSuit, #JackieKennedyOnassis, #VietNamWar, #9/11, #Covid-19, #January6th, #CivilWar, #LindaLeeGreene, #AuthorArtist

 

 

WHAT A CHARACTER

 

From Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

Life has hit me with some new low blows lately, and I expect them to continue to menace until I get beyond them—and then on to another round. That’s the way the day to day unfolds here in this particular confluence of protoplasm known as Linda Lee Greene. During times like these, I turn to certain practices that help me through. I meditate; I read inspirational material; I write; I storytell to my immediate loved-ones through a long texting thread; I paw through old photographs and relive the moments they bring to mind, an exercise in which I lose my present self in the past for a while and that rewards me with momentary amnesia of my current stresses.

          I took on the mantle as my birth family’s official photographer at the tender age of six, my mother’s little Brownie camera wound with black and white film incessantly in my grubby hands. I had the natural eye and ear for a good photograph. It was the precursor of my inborn talents as an artist and a writing storyteller that blossomed pretty much concurrently with my penchant for the camera. Such is the story behind my featured photo of my sister Sherri.

You will notice that the date of the photo is Oct. 1956. To be precise, I took the photo on the day of that month and in that year that was the occasion of Sherri’s third birthday. I had turned thirteen two months before. The location was the backyard of our home at 507 W. Second Avenue, Columbus, Ohio, an old multi-storied Victorian that I think of and dream about as home to this day, even though I haven’t lived there for sixty-five years.

That backyard was an ideal setting for great photographs. It was lush with green grass, flowering bushes, and leafy trees—an ancient cherry tree whose many and strong branches provided years of fun summer afternoons of climbing was a favorite of the neighborhood kids. An arbor of sweet green grapes draped the walkway that began at the foot of the back porch and led to the garage and doglegged to a gate that opened onto the alley. Tucked in one side of the arbor was a bench, a two-seater that was both private and romantic among the copious grapevines. I posed Sherri on the bench and snapped a picture. Next I dragged an old chair from the porch to the yard, lifted Sherri up to it, and instructed her to stand straight and smile.

Sherri had her own ideas about how our photoshoot should be conducted. She didn’t like posing upright on the chair and gave me her famous “look of disapproval”, her arms bent and fists coiling in ready to fight. I got the shot just in time and memorialized it in my photo of her on her third birthday. Sherri hasn’t changed one whit since then. She still has her own ideas about things and isn’t shy about having them known. She might be my favorite person in the world while at the same time remaining my competitor. My little secret is that it doesn’t matter to me which of us wins. All that matters to me is that Sherri is my sister, and I count my lucky stars for it every single day.

My wish is that you and yours have a lovely Thanksgiving. I know I will, in large part because my sister Sherri will be with me at our table this year, and God willing, for many years to come.©

#Sisters, #Thanksgiving, #VictorianHouses, #ColumbusOhio, #LindaLeeGreene, #AuthorArtist

Where Are the Little Critters?

 

There are no paw- or claw-prints in the snow that blankets my patio. This clean snow-slate makes me feel lonely for the furry and winged creatures that normally visit my place and keep me connected to Mother Nature’s little lifeforms. It also worries me for them…where are they? Are they hunkered down in safe and warm places? God, I pray it is so.

 

My first, early New Year’s resolution is to lay in a birdfeeder and seed as soon as it is safe to drive to a store that sells them. In the meantime, I don slacks and sweater, long down-filled coat and boots, headscarf and gloves and put out chunks of hardened bread on a plate for the critters. A prayer is on my lips that it will help to tide them over until I can do better for them. And then maybe they will come back to me. -Linda Lee Greene

#snowstorm, #FurryCreatures, #WingedCreatures, #Critters, #MotherNature, #BirdFeeders, #BirdSeed, #AuthorArtist, #LindaLeeGreene 

MEET MARINA SARDAROVA, ALSO KNOWN AS AUTHOR STELLA MAY

My friend, Marina Sardarova who writes under the pen-name of Stella May, accepted my invitation to answer a few of my questions about her life and work. It is my great pleasure to introduce you to her on my blog today. Just let me say that if you are in the mood to be swept away by some really good books, I highly recommend that you find your way to her work. To help you in that effort, purchase links to her books are listed below. –Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

  

In 50 words or fewer, please tell readers what you want them to know about the personal you?

 

I was born in the sixties of the last century in a country that doesn’t exist anymore: the former Soviet Union. However, I am not Russian–I’m Armenian and proud of my heritage. My family and I immigrated to the USA in 1991. I live in Jacksonville, FL with my husband and son. Literature and music are my two great passions.

In 50 words or fewer, tell readers what you want them to know about the writer you?

I am a Gemini, so there are two of us. Literally. My name is Marina Sardarova. Stella May is my pen name. In many regards, we are very different, even though she is me. I am a shy person, introvert. She’s more daring, braver, and self-assured. I am no stranger to self-doubts. She knows exactly what she wants and goes for it. And she writes because she loves it and because she has stories inside of her.

What motivated you to begin writing?

A visceral need to tell a story brewing inside.

Do you shoot for a grand purpose and/or a message for readers in your work?

Frankly, I don’t think about a grand purpose while writing my books. But my main message is: love is everything.

Do you write in a specific genre, or in a range of genres?

My first trilogy ‘Once & Forever’ is a family saga, the story totally grounded in reality. My next book ‘Rhapsody in Dreams’ is a cross-genre between a real life romance and fantasy. My series ‘Upon A Time’ is a time-travel romance adventure. I always was drawn to the sprinkle of magic in a real life.

Tell readers about your latest book: Title, blurb, purchase link, jpeg of the cover.

What motivated you to write this book?

My latest book ‘Time& Again’ is book two of my time-travel series.

 

Blurb: Once the portal is closed, there’s no going back. Or forward. Or is there?

Nika has been back in her own time for months, but with the portal to 1909 closed, she fears Eli believes those terrible accusations. Suddenly Eli appears, but in order to live out their destiny, there is more than one emotional bridge to rebuild.

https://www.amazon.com/Time.../dp/B0B7ZKXHS3/ref=sr_1_1...

https://books2read.com/u/3n5lMK

https://play.google.com/.../details/Stella_May_Time_Again...

Do you have a work in progress (WIP)?  If so, please give readers a sneak peak of it?

The third book in the Upon A Time Series is titled ‘No Other Time’, and is currently in the editing phase. I hope to introduce readers to it before Christmas. In this book, two of my secondary characters step forward, taking a center stage. I hope the readers will enjoy reading this story as much as I loved writing it.

In your best dream for your future, where would you like to be both in your personal and writing life?

Right here, in my beautiful sunny Florida, with my two best men, my husband of 34 years, and my wonderful son, and writing my heart out.

In 10 words or fewer, please share with readers your personal motto? In other words, what gets you up in the morning and keeps you up and going?

I have two mottoes I live by. First one-- be yourself, everybody else is already taken. And second-- seek magic everywhere.

What gets me up and running? My family and my writing.

How do you prefer readers to contact you directly?

Via my email stellamay1205@gmail.com, or via my website

 www.stellamayauthor.com/contact

Is there anything else you want to share with readers?

Thank you for reading my books!

#StellaMay, #MarinaSardarova, #TimeTravelStories, #Romance, #UponATimeSeries, #NoOtherTime, #Once&Forever, #RhapsodyInDreams, #LindaLeeGreene, #AuthorArtist

 

THE CROSSWORD PUZZLE

 

From Linda Lee Greene Author/Artist

 

“Cigarettes burning in the ashtray, coffee cooling in your cups, cheek to cheek at the kitchen table, you and Mom worked the crossword puzzle at the end of each day.

 

“Many long years it was that Mom’s seat was empty at the kitchen table. Times were that I’d fill it, and others too, but everyone knew there was no true substitute to you for Mom in her seat at the crossword puzzle.

 

“Seven years ago, you took your seat in heaven Mom held there for you. Cigarettes burning in the ashtray, coffee cooling in your cups, no doubt the two of you are cheek to cheek over the crossword puzzle at the end of each day—even this day of your 96^th birthday.

 

“Forgive me for the interruption, Dad, but I want to say, ‘Happy Birthday.’”©

#CrosswordPuzzles, #LindaLeeGreene, #AuthorArtist