Character and Conflict

The following story was written by Olive Padden 

     Small, and a year younger than her classmates she waited on the parochial school ground waiting for acceptance.  How was she to gain it from those bigger, older, wiser kids?
     She desparately wanted to be accepted so she decided to offer to do something that they all talked about but no one acted on.  It had to do with Sister Mary Martin's turned up shoe.
      Sister limped a bit when walking around the classroom in her heavy black nun shoes.
     One of the stories whispered among her classmates was that Sister had been married and in an accident where a train had sliced off the toes on her left foot.  That would explain the upward bend of her clunky black nun shoe, but no one knew how to kind out the truth.  What would happen if by poking around you brought on punishment, retaliation, even suspension.
     The stakes were high - finally acceptance or continual rejection.  Her thoughts were not obvious, so when she suddenly burst our, "I'll do it!"  The whole group listened while she told her plan.  Lollie, a teachers pet, would stay after school to help clean erasers and while there she'd find a way to step  on that curling left shoe.
     The group liked it.  They had their sacrificial lamb.  They could gain knowledge with no exposure.
     And now, classes were over.  Everyone gone but Lollie and sister.  She planned her route carefully.  Walk over to the blackboard, pick up an eraser in each hand, stagger a little, and land on that twisted left shoe ...would there be a reaction.
     Her heart in her throat, holding her breathe a little, she took the necessary steps down and down she came, as hard as she could on the ugly shoe.  No sound, not a facial grimace, or an ouch.  Sister merely cautioned to beat the erasers hard.
     When she stomped on the leather shoe it squished down flat.  The answer now she could make her report to the playground group.  Finishing up the erasers she quickly went to the waiting group to win her acceptance.
     "No toes."  She whispered.  The temporary mantle of acceptance fell on her small shoulder.  The spy had made her report. 

Writing about Conflict

Our group is currently working stories from their own lives that involved conflict.  The writers read their stories in class and we noticed several involved mean cousins, and everyone wrote about conflicts they had as young people.  We have been loosely following a DVD course, Writing Creative Nonfiction, given by Professor Tilar J. Mazzeo from Colby college.  We meet in the theater and read work outloud for feedback and then watch the DVD.  Initially we found Professor Mazzeos hand gestures during the presentations distracting, but she does improve with subsequent lessons.  The following is a new story by Olive Padden, one of the more experienced writers.

                                                    My Mother's Hat

When I was seven we moved to Chicago from Superior, Wisconsin.  My father, an attorney(graduate of Marquette Law School) had taken a job with the Reconstruction Finance Corporation and things were looking up a little.

After an early marriage, both 21, Daddy had been graduated and then struggled in a private law firm through those depression days, but ow there was a little light at the end of the tunnel.  He had quit drinking after the threat of separation forced his hand and this new job looked promising.

So my very pretty mother decided to go shopping, and bought a hat.  We- Mother, Daddy and I were all in the front hall of the 2nd floor apartment on Greenview when she decided to show off her new purchase.

She reached into a paper bag, and pulled out the straw hat. Placing it on her head, she cried out, "Look John, what do you think?"

 My handsome thirty year old father looked up, paused a moment and then said, straight forwardly, "It looks like a sewing basket." My mother threw the hat down the stairs and burst into tears.
I watched and listened, an onlooker to this small drama.  It did look like a sewing basket, one my grandmother had, round, straw, the size of a head with a bit of trim on the edge.

But that didn't mean that Daddy gave the correct answer, very incorrect.  On mothers torrent of tears he turned and walked out of the house with mama calling, "Come back, John, come back."  I ran after him.  He came back.

 Behind this little drama was years of strain and pain.  The ups and downs of living with a handsome football star trying to be a nondrinking father, dealing with the curse of his Irish family, alcohol, 3 moves and now in a big strange city.  It is surprising all she threw was small and made of straw.

Olive Padden

Fourth of July when we were kids

Residents enjoyed our fourth of July activities at Plush Mills, but were eager to share memories of
parades and parties when they were growing up.  Eleanor shared a very interesting and unique tradition from her home town in New Jersey.

                       Fourth of July, Oradell, NJ

                                        by Eleanor Bongiorno

The town or Oradell, NJ had and extravaganza on the 4th of July and the parade was extensive.
We would all bring folding chairs and select a good spot along the parade route to enjoy the event.  My children who were involved in little leauge, girl scouts, and brownies all marched in the parade.  There were grand marshall, several marching bands, live animals, dignitaries, and clergy involved in the festivities.  The final stop of the parade was the atheletic field where skydivers performed.  They ejected themselves from the airplane and landed on a precise spot on the field.  There was a solemn ceremony afterwards and local dignitaries spoke.  Afterwards there were games fro the children, dancing for the adults, it was a wonderful celebration.

                           
                                                  
                                                       

The Luau at Plush Mills inspires creativity

On June 14th the residents enjoyed a Hawaiian type luau with wonderful food, a signature drink and entertainment.  This  not only inspired a still life in our art class, but also a wonderful piece of writing by Jo Ann Petrovitch about her trip to Hawaii some years ago.  

                                       My Trip to Hawaii, our 49th state.  
                                                  
                                                               by Jo Ann Petrovitch

We flew to Hawaii on an airplane and it was the second airplane trip of my life.  It seemed I like sitting on the plane amongst the clouds of fluffy white.  We watched movies on the way and I sat next to Bert Thorne, a lady from Eddystone I had just met.

We had to go down in Chicago to check on an engine that went out on the plane.  It was soon repaired and was nothing serious so we were on our way.

We landed in Hawaii and went to the Outrigger West Hotel in Honolulu, where the beautiful seashore was.  I went on the beach soon and lay on a blanket in the sand near another girl from my hometown
of Eddyston.  The shore was so beautiful so I went in and stood in the white waves that came up pretty high.  Afterwards we shopped and I bought a blue towel for my brother Dale.  I was tickled to get it and it was huge.  I carried it all the way home on the plane.

The first morning I awoke I wrote a postcard about the pigeons on the railing outside my window that I was glad to see.  I addressed it to my home in Eddystone, PA.

We also went to the Big Island to see the volcanoes and road on unpaved roads on a bus.  We missed our flight back to Honolulu so we caught another plane later that night.

We also went on a tour of Maui, the island of beautiful flowers and birds.

These are my most special memories of my trip to Hawaii.

Water color still life painted by Jo Ann Petrovich

 

A new 'resident" in the garden

                                                      Esmerelda

                                                    By Joan Clelan

When you walk out of the front door of the lobby at Plush Mills be sure to look in the flower garden in the circle.  There you will find "Esmerelda" the large praying mantis.

This large sculpture was made and assembled by David Ffrench.  This was quite an arduous task, however David perservered.  If you think of it, perhaps you would like to tell David how much you appreciate his work and how wonderful we can all enjoy it.  Perhaps you may like to ask him how long it took him to carefully construct this piece.  I am sure he would appreciate discussing this with you.

Kudos to David from everyone at Plush Mills.  There is more work there than meets the eye.

Visual Art as inspiration

The following piece by Ken Wright was an in class writing assignment.  After our Fine Arts evening at Plush Mills there were a number of paintings done by residents left in the great room after the event.   I asked the writers to pick one and write about it in any form they choose.  

I was driving through Tuscany in the fall of ’76. It had never looked so beautiful – with green fields alternated by dark vermillion fields and soft, brown waves of grain.

As I rounded a turn, a strikingly white Villa rose out of the hills. It shimmered in the still, warm sun. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. I pulled over to take a photograph, got out of the car and suddenly a huge truck, loaded down with old cars, came around the bend on my side of the road and headed straight at me.

For a moment I stood rooted in one spot. Seconds before I was hit I dived off the road and the truck flashed past.

“Whew. That was close,” I thought. When I looked up the white Villa had disappeared. If I hadn’t stopped to take that picture, the truck would have hit me straight on. Wow!

Musical inspiration and third person

 Our in class writing assignment involved listening to a piece of music playing on the CD player for a few minutes with eyes closed.  At some point the writers were instructed to imagine a scene that might go with the music that was playing.  The initial assignment was written in the first person and in the next class we discussed third person narrative.  Jo Ann changed her piece about a monkey in the park from her point of view to that of an old man.

                                                            In The Park

                                                        By JoAnn Clelan

There are children playing and music is heard in the distance.  The old man is sitting on a bench in the park watching people coming and going.  Now approaching him is a woman who appears to be looking for someone she planned to meet here.

There are cars parking in the lot and many people coming and going .  Here comes a Mom and Dad with their children and a somewhat older daughter  and a son perhaps two years younger.  They wave to the woman who has been looking for someone and they are happy to have found each other!

He thinks to himself I am going to watch these people to see what they are going to do.  Oh, they are to going to where the music is and the little girl is getting all excited.  

"Oh, Daddy!" She exclaims, there is a monkey with a yellow ribbon on his head and he is jumping around clapping his hands and making faces at the crowd of people who have arrived. The woman reaches down to the little girl and whispers in her ear.  He wonders what she is saying to her.  Mother,  Dad, and their son are laughing as they work their way among the people until they are up front at the stage. The old man enjoys watching this family because many years ago he had a family too.  He thinks, " I am old and my children are all grown up, so I am recalling times with my family similar to this."  Perhaps the woman talking to the little girl is her aunt.  Now the monkey is really putting on an act, but the music is very loud and he has seen enough for today.

The little girl looks over at him and he waves to her.  She turns to her Daddy and tells him she wants to go home. Her little brother has had enough and also wants to go home.  He watches them leave the park. The aunt is going with them to the car and he can hear them all talking as they get in the car.  The children are tired now, but want to stop for ice cream.  As they all say good bye to the aunt the old man remembers how his family use to do the same.  Goodbye to a nice day.  He is glad he came to the park today as he was reminded of the good times he had with his own family when they were young.

He smiles as he stands up from the park bench and decides to call his daughter when he gets home.