For Authors: May 04, 2016 Issue [#7619] |
For Authors
This week: May Day Edited by: Fyn-elf More Newsletters By This Editor
1. About this Newsletter 2. A Word from our Sponsor 3. Letter from the Editor 4. Editor's Picks 5. A Word from Writing.Com 6. Ask & Answer 7. Removal instructions
All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.~~T.E. Lawrence
In the under-wood and the over-wood there is murmur and trill this day,
For every bird is in lyric mood, And the wind will have its way. ~~Clinton Scollard
Among the changing months, May stands confest the sweetest, and in fairest colors dressed. ~~James Thomson
Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.~~Albert Camus
May, queen of blossoms, and fulfilling flowers, With what pretty music Shall we charm the hours? Wilt thou have pipe and reed, Blown in the open mead? Or to the lute give heed In the green bowers. ~~Lord Edward Thurlow
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Dancing 'round May Poles and leaving the surprise of a May Basket on someone's door to brighten their day. May was always ushered in (back in the dark ages when I was a child) by dancing with the other girls around a May Pole. Dressed in pretty spring dresses, clutching streams of crepe paper or ribbons that were attached to the top of a tall pole (or, usually, the flag pole in our yard) we would gaily dance, weaving the ribbons as we wove over, under, over, under in two circles going different directions. That was always followed by a 'grown-up' tea party with tiny triangular sandwiches with the crusts cut off. The bread was often tinted pale green or pink. (Green for watercress and cucumber, pink for tuna) Then, we'd make May Baskets with crepe paper petals around a paper cup with a pipe cleaner handle, fill them with flowers or candy and hand them on people's doors, ring the bell and run. I still remember the delighted smiles!
Granted, as a child, I didn't know that May Poles were a fertility dance to celebrate Beltane. But, it didn't matter. It was fun and a way to celebrate spring. Of course, back then? I thought it was how the world celebrated my birthday! Although my birthday is May 9th, the celebration always started on the 1st of May.
I was born on Mother's Day. Never found out if I was the best (or worst) Mother's Day gift my mom ever got; she refused to answer that question. Smart lady! Growing up, it was fun that Mom and I, every so often, got to share' our' days. As a mother myself, there was many a year when I'd get one earring for my birthday, and the other one for Mother's Day.
My birthday always meant lilacs because it seemed they always bloomed just in time for 'me' special day. These days? My hubby comes home from work on my birthday with a humongous arm full of them! We end up with vases upon vases of lilacs in every single room of the house. For days the essence of lilac pervades our home and chases out the mustiness of winter. Spring will finally have sprung!
May is when the weather warms enough that the heat is off til late autumn, when we can relax after our busy days out on the back patio with the pooch chasing one of her toys and when the scent of newly mown grass is cause for smiles. May is a happy month. Every step around the outside of the house brings newly budding plants, tulip smiles, that green tinge that haunts the woods and neighbors coming out of hibernation!
May brings reminiscences of our family. Here's a 'strange' one for you... My father passed away on my Hubby's birthday. His father passed away on mine. We take time on both days to talk about our dads as our dads helped make us who we are today. We toast them and love them still!
May is Decoration Day, (now Memorial Day) but the day we, (growing up) went to the cemetery to clean up winter debris and mark the graves of Veterans with flags. We'd leave pennies, nickels or dimes on the edges of the stones if we remembered, knew or served with them. We'd stand and salute every single time an American flag passed during the parade and listen to tree frogs after the family cookout or picnic.
I've always pictured the year as a clock with the year going counter clock-wise...May was at 7 of the clock...12 was Christmas, 1 was New Year's, 2 was Valentines Day, 3 was St Patrick's Day, 4 was Easter...then MAY! May meant school was almost over, May meant we could go swimming soon, May was when my grandmother and Great-aunt Mary came to visit and May was the month where almost anything 'may' happen...magical month tis May. Other months had special days and wonderful moments, but nothing, nothing ever compared to the joys of May.
!!!ANNOUNCEMENT!!!
We are keeping the submissions to the 2016 Writing.Com Anthology
open until May31st because we'd really like more entries to choose from
(as well as raise more gps for RAOK and the Angel Army!)
and there are several contests going on that folks think might produce entries for them.
So, in the light of the numerous emails we've received requesting a later 'close' date:
entries now will be accepted through the entire month of May!!
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Oldwarrior comments: This is one of the best newsletters I have read in a long time. Cudos!
From a January Newsie: Elfin Dragon-finally published writes: Regarding "Capturing Moods" (why am I always so late?) Anyway, loved your flat tire examples. My dad taught me how to change one. Thought everyone should be able to, girl or no. My actual first one? Driving my shipped car from the Louisiana Docks back to Texas. The tire blew on one of those double-lane stretches with grass as the median between bridges of swamp and rivers of Louisiana. I'm pulled over as far as I can on the left in that grassy median, using a dinky jack, replacing that flat with a donut spare which has barely enough air in it to get me to the next exit. The joy of driving a car that's been shipped overseas.
Monty says: Thank you for a very good N/L Great points made throughout.
DB Cooper chortles: I write in two genres: Humorous horror and horrible humor.
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