my obsession with a pioneer girl - rants, raves & random bits of laura ingalls wilder research, past and present
FYI
BIG WOODSPepin, Wisconsin
FARMER BOYWilder Homestead
INDIAN TERRITORYWayside, Kansas
PLUM CREEK PREEMPTIONWalnut Grove, Minnesota
THE YEAR IN BURR OAKBurr Oak, Iowa
LIW MEMORIAL SOCIETY De Smet, South Dakota
INGALLS HOMESTEADDe Smet, South Dakota
ROCKY RIDGE FARMMansfield, Missouri
KEYSTONE MUSEUMKeystone, South Dakota
METHODIST CHURCH MUSEUMSpring Valley, Minnesota
POMONA PUBLIC LIBRARYPomona, California
HERBERT HOOVER LIBRARYWest Branch, Iowa
HARPERCOLLINS PUBLISHERSNew York, New York
LHOP, THE MUSICALLittle House Productions LP
©2010 nancy cleaveland
seventhwinter[at]gmail[dot]com
It is best to be honest and truthful, to make the most of what we have, to be happy with simple pleasures and to be cheerful and have courage when things go wrong.
LIW
Making the best of things - a damn poor way of dealing with them. My whole life has been a series of escapes from that quicksand.
RWL
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April 19, 2007
hardly a man is now alive...
April is National Poetry month. From The Long Winter, (Chapter 22, "Cold and Dark"):
In the afternoons Mary and Laura and Carrie recited. Even Grace knew "Mary's Little Lamb," and "Bo-Peep Has Lost Her Sheep." Laura liked to see Grace's blue eyes and Carrie's shine with excitement when she told them:
"Listen, my children, and you shall hear,
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year..."
April 18 is the perfect time to brush up on your Paul Revere's Ride recitation skills. In the eighth grade, I memorized it for history class; I can still get a few verses in before fumbling.
Here is a poem you won't have read anywhere before. It was written by Paul Cooley (1884-1981); see On the Way Home and a Lore article and a Rocky Ridge Review article written by moi. George Cooley's son, Frank, shared this poem back in 1998 with my son Pearce, who memorized it on the spot. Printed here with permission, so copyrights apply.
Spring Has Came to Arkansas
Spring has came, winter has went,
It was not did by accident.
The birds have sang, the grass has grew,
The sun it showed on I and you.
The creeks have ran with melting snow,
St. Francis River done overflow;
The ducks have flew as you have saw,
And spring has came to Arkansas.
- posted by pioneergirl at 12:15 AM
