via Instagram https://www.instagram.com/p/B5bGyc6JxdF/ Thanksgiving at Mom and Dad’s in my Christmas sweater. There needs to be a Christmas sweater emoji. Brought the wheels because I am having excessive pain in my feet and therefore don’t trust my walking, so I am sitting in style. Happy Thanksgiving from me and There Might Be Cupcakes Podcast 🧁. I am grateful for you.
Oh, yeah, and my new wheelchair ♿️ is in progress—I’m looking at you, Anthem HealthKeepers 👀 , and I am going to see Midsommar on the Same Day as the interview, so my heart can’t take the excitement. ❣️❣️❣️
Some books entertain you, some books distract you, and some books, if you are very, very lucky and find them, captivate you, and take your breath away from the very first page. You recognize them–and it almost feels as if they recognize you.
–Carla Hufstedler, episode 26, Pilgrim at Little Piney Creek
The Little Piney River is a 7.6-mile-long tributary of the Piney River in Amherst County in the U.S. state of Virginia. Via the Piney and Tye rivers, it is part of the James River watershed. (Wikipedia)
The Piney River is known around here as the “Big Piney”. Naturally. And notice we are so out in the country that the map just says “2” for “District 2”.
Walden (free in ebook format), by Henry David Thoreau — I once spent the afternoon at Walden Pond, and that place truly has an aura about it. I highly recommend putting it on your bucket list. In the spirit of nature writing, here’s the facts:
Kettle hole formation lake, formed by glaciers retreating 10,000 to 12,000 years ago
It is winter proper; the cold weather, such as it is, has come to stay. I bloom indoors in the winter like a forced forsythia; I come in to come out. At night I read and write, and things I have never understood become clear; I reap the harvest of the rest of the year’s planting…The mountains’ bones poke through, all shoulder and knob and shin. All that summer conceals, winter reveals. —Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
It has always been a happy thought that the creek runs on all night now every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale. —-Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
Putting you in the mood to put pen to paper? Good!
And you’re going to need a paper companion for your initial forage into your environment. I suggest these guided ones, which I plan upon playing with myself, and may discuss my adventures with in a future episode: The Pocket Scavenger and How to Be an Explorer of the World, both by Keri Smith.
And we the people are so vulnerable. Our bodies are shot with mortality. Our legs are fear and our arms are time. These chill humors seep through our capillaries, weighting each cell with an icy dab of nonbeing, and that dab grows and swelss and sucks the cell dry. That is why physical courage is so important–it fills, as it were, the holes–and why it is so invigorating. The least brave act, chance taken and passage won, makes you feel loud as a child.
Perhaps it is all balanced as it should be, perhaps everything is happening exactly as it should. And, to reference the minor prophet Ferris Bueller, if you don’t open our eyes, life goes pretty fast, you’ll miss so very much. You can choose to see pain and horror or beauty and mystery in every process, every moment while still being bluntly honest about what’s happening.
–Carla Hufstedler, episode 26, Pilgrim at Little Piney Creek
Hi, I’m Carla. I’m a 47-year-old disabled writer. I live on a mountain in the Appalachian range, in the section known as the Blue Ridge in the state of Virginia, right on the edge of the George Washington National Forest. The latter makes the Missing 411 phenomenon extra spooky.
The official (read: written by me, I’m the only one here) podcast description for There Might Be Cupcakes gives a lot of information about my shenanigans here:
Carla is: a bookdrunkard, a 40-something with psychology and counseling degrees with post-grad work in grief/loss/trauma, sex crimes, and forensic anthropology.
a former freelance journalist and counselor, who is never bored.
Join her (and sometimes her friends) in her strange library as she INFJs everything from unused angles.
It’s going to get weird in the best way. Let’s play.
I try to release episodes about once a week; I release right now as my health allows. I post a website entry for each episode, with more information, photographs, and suggested reading for that particular episode, and the available stream and downloadable MP3 for that episode. I will post additional posts from my Instagram, my Pinterest, and from anything topical that catches my interest and I think might interest you throughout each week.
My disabilities are Ehlers-Danlos, Hypermobility Type, POTS (Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome), and fibromyalgia. Basically, the collagen in all twelve systems of my body is damaged, everything hurts all the time, and my blood pressure is not stable with a sudden change in posture (hard sneeze, laughing, standing up). My body is my frenemy.
My friend, Greg Behrendt, has a comedy routine about how he would do unpleasant things for cake, and that anywhere you go, there might be cake. Well, cupcakes are all that and more: portable, equal, fancier…and so much more. The title represents sharing, hope, whimsy…and here’s Greg’s routine. Enjoy, and always remember there might be cupcakes.
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee;– And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love— I and my Annabel Lee— With a love that the wingéd seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud by night chilling my Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me:— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling And killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in Heaven above Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:–
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea— In her tomb by the sounding sea. (original manuscript says “by the side of the sea”)
text of Virginia Clemm Poe’s acrostic Valentine :
Ever with thee I wish to roam–
Dearest my life is thine.
Give me a cottage for my home
And a rich old cypress vine
Removed from the world with its sin and care
And the tattling of many tongues.
Love alone shall guide us when we are there–
Love shall heal my weakened lungs;
And Oh, the tranquil hours we’ll spend,
Never wishing that others may see!
Perfect ease we’ll enjoy without thinking to lend
Ourselves to the world and its glee–
Ever peaceful and blissful we’ll be.
Saturday February 14, 1846.
Harold Schechter: Edgar Allan Poe Mysteries series order
The first (and second) presidents ever to die in office! Imagine awakening to that newspaper. How earthshaking. Whoops, um, President Harrison has died after 30 days in office. Yeah, we don’t know to act, either, beyond inaugurating the vice president. AWKward. Stay tuned.
Harrison was also the last US president to be born a British subject on American soil (Charles City, Virginia); so, when his VP, John Tyler was elected, he was the first American-born citizen to be inaugurated as president. Yes, that means that James K. Polk was the first American citizen to be elected president. If you win at trivia thanks to me, give my podcast a shoutout, and let me know, hey?
Think about it! 13 states became part of the United States during Poe’s lifetime! That’s not a casual hey-how-you-doing, now-you-belong-to-the-neighborhood-watch-committee thing. Edgar went to bed 13 times to awaken to newsies shouting about an entirely new state moving in next door. Make friends, because Arkansas just moved in and is never leaving. Enjoy your coffee; we’re 25 states now, not 24, don’t get it twisted. Welcome to the future.
links in this section are to tags for these events and years at thedollop.net; if some of them don’t have any articles attached, they will eventually, believe you me