07.29.08
Posted in Uncategorized, poetry, music news, personal at 11:31 am by Deb
Well, where do I start…
The festival was one of the best for me. I heard great music, connected with friends, found a very dear friend unexpectedly, danced, played music late at night, got little sleep and loads of inspiration. Wed. and Thurs. were rainy, rainy, rainy. Both days were so rainy that the roads into the festival grounds were closed, so we had to carry our things in. I had arrived on Tuesday to drop off supplies for the Activities 4 Kids tent, so I was able to pitch my tent that day. I also had help carting things and did it gradually over the course of the festival. I was amazed by everyone’s good spirits in spite of the hardships. Friday and Saturday were gorgeous days. I would almost say that they were perfect days with no hint of what was to come. Then came Sunday…
The day started out overcast but okay. I went to the information tent to find out the forecast. I was told that we were expecting very severe storms in the afternoon, around 2 pm, with high winds and possible hail. I passed this info on to a few folks, packed up my things and moved my car to a spot by the road that I knew I could get out of. I’m so glad I did.
My job every year is to run the Activities 4 Kids tent. When the rain started, it came down in buckets. You couldn’t even see across the path. Then came the winds and the hailstones the size of ice cubes. I had my hands full trying to keep our big festival tent up and all the families calm. As you can imagine, there were a lot of screaming and crying kids, so we sang. When I finally had it fairly stable and all the children in the middle and away from flying debris, I went for my radio to call site crew and security. That’s when I found out that both food tents were down. My 4-year old granddaughter, who has been raised by me since she was a year old, had left with her dad to get lunch and then the Volunteer food tent to ride out the impending storm. You can imagine my own worry, wondering where she was now that the tent was down.
She had quite an adventure of her own, having been separated from her dad in the confusion of the collapsing tent. She was with my 14-year old grandson (in the food tent), who had seen her dad go to try to hold the tent posts and keep the tent from flying away, and was carried out of the collapsing tent by him and his friend. She was completely safe, thanks to my grandson’s clearheadedness and his friend’s help, and was taken in by two separate groups of people. The first group they found didn’t have a vehicle down below, so they huddled around her, like a football huddle, with her in the middle. They sang songs and gave her and the other two kids a science lesson on how hailstones are formed and what makes them different sizes. Then he found a van, that was packed full of people. He talked them into taking in the two girls then went to find her dad, me and his mom. He found us pretty quickly, and we took them to our friends’ school bus which was in deep water, up to my knees, but not going anywhere. They had fallen in the deep water many times and were shivering, so I dried them off and wrapped them up before leaving to see what was happening and what I could do to help. A little later, someone offered to bring them hot cocoa. They had also rummaged around in the bus and found cookies. That made things much better.
It’s very interesting to see first hand how people react in a crisis. Although there were a few who panicked, most everyone worked together very smoothly. There were paying customers who came around helping in the Med tent, helping site crew with the clean-up, and helping me get my A4Kids stuff disassembled and packed up. Eileen Ivers and her band set up on the grass by the workshop stage and played their planned set to help keep everyone’s spirits up. I was home by 7 pm. When I left, things were running smoothly again. I was there with my three kids and two grands. We all have our own stories and are all fine. It was too bad it had to end the way it did. All in all, we had a great festival and look forward to next year.
There are a couple of videos on YouTube, including one of the volunteer tent when it started collapsing, that are kind of cool and also frightening for those of us who were there.
I would love to hear other stories from folks who were there.
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11.28.06
Posted in poetry, babble, holidays at 12:44 pm by Deb
It’s that time of year again when everyone goes nuts, stressing out, driving aggressively, going into debt and forgetting what the season should really be about. Every year I notice decorations going up earlier and the crazy rush of traffic getting earlier as well. A friend of mine told me about returning to New York from New Jersey at 2 am on “Black Friday” and getting stuck in a huge traffic jam at the first tollbooth on the Thruway, just over the New York border. Apparently, there is a big mall there. People were backed up for miles trying to be one of the first in line for the big bargains. It really amazes me that this is what American culture has become. A few years ago I wrote this poem. I guess it’s time to post it up here. The end of it is sung to the very end of the tune “Twelve days of Christmas.” Hope you enjoy it. I do!
Xmas Wrap © Deb Cavanaugh
Twas 2 months before Christmas and all through the stores
nothing was moving. We had to sell more.
We’d tried all the gimmicks save one that can’t fail -
our annual pre-Halloween Christmas sale.
The stock market was hung in the balance with care
in hopes that great profit soon would be there.
Displays were all lit and then rearranged.
The mood of the store had been drastically changed.
All through the wee hours, anticipation mounted.
Maybe the sleds should have been discounted.
But the lines had all formed. People jammed at the door.
One minute to go til we open the store.
And we heard the boss say as he turned on the light,
“Merry Christmas to all, and we hope the price is right.”
At the end of the day, as employees departed,
we had all of this, and we’d only just started.
12 fainting ladies - 11 heart attacks - 10 cashiers quitting
9 broken TVs - 8 stolen purses - 7 crying babies - 6 mothers screaming
5 - bouncing checks
4 accidents - 3 lost kids - 2 shoplifters
and a Santa bouncing children on his knee.
Happy Holidays, whatever holiday you celebrate and whenever you celebrate it. We all celebrate at different times during the next few months. Please slow down and notice the people around you and the beauty in the world. We only live once, our children grow up in the blink of an eye, and it’s a shame to look back on our lives with regret. Please stay tuned - I will be writing about our Solstice celebrations soon. We start on Friday, Dec. 1st with our daily candle lighting. When I left my ex-husband, I decided I didn’t want to battle over who would be with our kids during Christmas. I always hated the commercialism anyway, so I decided to celebrate the Winter Solstice. I invented a wonderful ritual which includes “snow fairies” instead of Santa. More to come…
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04.06.06
Posted in poetry at 10:32 am by Dick
What follows is the result of a wonderful experience I had a week ago visiting with a girl friend who was an early romance. We were young. I saw her briefly 20 years ago, but for all practical purpose, I hadn’t really connected with her in 40 some odd years. We spent the afternoon together. It was a beautiful spring day, and we sat for several hours trading time telling our life stories. We had dinner together, and then said our good-byes. I was sad to leave her, but I must say, it was a wonderful time. This poem, which I leave unnamed here out of respect for her, does actually have a name. The poem came to me while sitting quietly in my living room. This meeting brought up tons of feelings for me, expecially feelings of loss. I cried. Joy and well-being returned and all the pleasant memories of so long ago. I can only thank her! Needless to say, it is a heavy look at what I believe were the tragedies of my friend’s life, and what appears to be the isolation that she now deals with. With love, I dedicate this poem to her.
I live in the valley of darkness.
I shroud myself
So freedom will never find me.
You can not see my eyes.
For to look into my soul
You will find Hell’s fire, my pain, my tormentor.
It is scary here, for I am alone.
What shall I do?
You say, “Remove your shroud, set yourself free”.
But I ask, “why”?
If I should remove my shroud
I will surely lose my life,
Dying of hurts buried so long ago
beneath my soul.
You could destroy me,
and I will be no more.
This I can not bear.
You ask, “Who are you”?
Saying, “Remove your shroud, live!
Your spirit is dimmed, never dead.
I will look, then listen. You shall live.
At last, freedom!
Remove your shroud.”
By Richard Kavanaugh
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03.25.06
Posted in Uncategorized, poetry at 8:58 am by Deb
I’m tired but there’s so much more to do
I’m hungry but there’s no time to eat
I’m happy but I’ve forgotten how to laugh,
or cry, or eat, or sleep…
I’ve forgotten me.
Who am I?
What do I want?
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Who am I?
Who … Uh, oh … I’ve forgotten.
I wrote this a long time ago, before my last child was born. Now he is 15 and I have a 2 year old at home, too. At least now I definitely know who I am and am doing the things I want to do, making time for myself and them.
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