Tag Archives: Barbara Younger

Tangerine Tango! (And a Bright Orange Book Giveaway)

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Color! Color!  Color! Color! Color! Color! Color!

The older I get, the more I’m drawn to vibrant colors.

And so is Lisa Winkler, because she titled her  new anthology Tangerine Tango: Women Writers Share Slices of Life.

I  am delighted that Lisa selected three of my poems and three of my essays for the book.  Thanks, Lisa!

Here’s what the press release says about Tangerine Tango’s contents:

  • There’s Donna Barry who writes about her mother, her father, football, the ocean, and one of her first jobs.
  • There’s Stacey Caron who is a food blogger and antique dealer. She shares her grandmother’s chopped liver recipe, a tart from Spain, and her love of food.
  • You’ll swoon in green with Judy Ackley Brown and smile as you read about Barbara Chapman’s Fifth grade memories, her fight with breast cancer, and her work with hospice.
  • You’ll lick your lips with Gabi Coatsworth’s description of ice cream, empathize with her trip to the dump, envision her shrimping with her father and her grand-daughter, and be moved by her poem dedicated to her sister.
  • Dawn Landau’s ode to her daughter teems with raw emotion and her vision of seeing her late mother is almost scary.
  • Chris Rosen’s mother will amaze you, you’ll share her pride in her rock musician son, and want to climb in the hot air balloon with her.
  • Like Leah Singer, you’ll be annoyed at the salesman, disturbed by her parents chiding her about her weight, and proud that she has made her interfaith marriage last.
  • Those with siblings will hear themselves in Madeline Taylor’s telephone essay.
  • With Patti Winker, you’ll wonder about life with 11 siblings, learn about running a candy store, and reminisces about life with clotheslines and before helmets.
  • From Lisa Winkler, you can reread some past posts – about fashion advice from our mothers, medical advice from her father, hopes for college graduates and tolerance for varying religious beliefs in her own family, and ice cream flavors.
  • Barbara Younger shares three lovely poems – about buttons, socks and fudge, and essays about her father’s music, her allegiance to her ancient stove, and a Valentine’s Day when she was 11.

Me again:

Start your holiday shopping!  A great present, the book’s tiny size makes it perfect to tuck into a gift basket or bag.

Don’t forget birthdays!  With its focus on living an exuberant life, Tangerine Tango makes a great girlfriend birthday present.

You!  And of course you’ll want a copy for yourself!

Purchase the book here. 

Proceeds from the sale of Tangerine Tango go to the Huntington’s Disease Society of America.

Giveaway: In celebration of the publication of this colorful collection of essays and poems, I’m giving away two copies.  Post a comment by October 24 saying you’d like to win. Two winners will be chosen at random.

Photo Above:  Marina Bang designed Tangerine Tango’s delicious cover!

Photo Below:  Giveaway books stand proud on our old stove, the topic of one of my essays in Tangerine Tango.

Cake in Fridge!

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At Piedmont Community College, where I work as a writing tutor, we get a lot of emails. Most of them have to do with grading rosters that need to be turned in or  an upcoming college event.  I scan the email headings to see which emails I need to read.

My eyes almost popped out of my English tutor head when I read this one:

CAKE IN FRIDGE

Yum!

I love cake. I love it for the flavor, but I love cake too for the the celebrations it represents: birthdays, weddings, graduations, anniversaries, promotions, book signings, holidays, store openings, and lots of other happy times.

Today, Friend for the Ride is one year old.

And so, to each of you, for reading my blog, I’m sending:

A cake in the fridge 

Albeit it’s an imaginary one, but it comes with my love and thanks!

Photo is courtesy Laura Younger. I’m not sure if this was her birthday cake or Matt’s, but I could take a big old dollop of that butter cream right now.

Lillian, Queen of the Shelter

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We called her Queen of the Shelter because when we went to adopt her, she sat on a high shelf in the cat room. We walked in the door. She stood up to greet us, two strange people.

Then with great dignity, she stepped down from the shelf, went over to the bowl of cat chow, took a nibble, turned, and gave a self-assured hiss to the cats in her returning path. No doubt, she ruled the cat room.

“We think she’s ten to twelve,” the woman told us as we signed the adoption papers. “In fact, since she’s an old girl, we’ll take $25 off the adoption costs.”

Lillian talked, with our help. She reminded Cliff many times that he owed her the $25. After all, she was the old girl. The money was really hers.

When we decided, with the vet’s confirmation, that it was time to let her go in early July, she’d been Queen of the Household and Queen of Our Hearts for eight years.

You’ve done it too, I suspect. Put a beloved pet to his or her end.

Our vet gave her a tranquilizer. I buried my head in her fur, which still smelled kitty clean and crisp.

“We love you, Lils. You’ve been a wonderful cat.”

At her funeral later that day, I read one of my poems, “At the Grave of a Fine Cat.”

May your whiskers be ruffled by only pleasant breezes,

May your bowls be filled with tuna and sweet cream,

May your dreams be filled with legions of mice,

May you forever purr in peace.

Amen.

Cliff shoveled on the dirt as I tossed in garden zinnias.

Lillian taught me just what an old girl can do.

How to run on spindly legs.

How to greet each morning with short, upbeat  meows.

How to make your opinions known with more dramatic ones.

How to appreciate family and welcome strangers.

How to cozy up and relax on a pile of quilts.

And how to grow old with Queen of the World spunk.

Photo: Lillian looks out from the kitchen of her new home.  Photo courtesy Katherine Younger.

My Poem “At the Grave of Fine Cat” was published in June Cotner’s Animal Blessings: Prayers and Poems Celebrating Our Pets (Harper San Francisco, 2000).

Services on Wednesday for Barbara Younger

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I’m glad the above Barbara Younger isn’t me, or I’d be dead.

And if that Barbara Younger were alive, she’d probably rather not be me. The obit goes on to say that Barbara Younger opened her home to students, faculty, and visiting scholars at UVA for forty years.  I’m not that great of a cook.  She might have been embarrassed, if she were me, when some of those visiting scholars tasted the pie crust.

I post this obit not to be silly or flippant.  Have you ever googled your name and come up with an obit?  Sobering!

Sobering, yes, but I am practicing dying.

I don’t mean that to be flippant either.

I have a feeling that accepting death will make the remaining years of life happier, and so I’m trying to make peace with the concept.  Before age fifty-five, there was no way.  But something hit me that year that made me think, well maybe, maybe it’s okay you don’t get to live forever on earth.  (But only maybe.)

And so I want to work harder to appreciate the years I have left.

And I want to work harder to accept the terms of life.  I didn’t exactly sign up for them, but fighting them seems of little purpose.

I wish I could ask the other Barbara Younger how it feels to be dead.

Maybe I’ll get to at a Behind the Pearly Gates Girlfriend Gathering.  “Hi Barbara Younger!  I’m Barbara Younger!  What do you think of our name?  A little plain, or nice and easy because people can usually spell it?”

But back to earth.  How about you?  No matter your age, how do you feel about departing this world someday?

Photo:  You can read more about this lovely woman here.