Recovery and Anxious to Teach Again

Young Glenda who thought she was too thin.

I look forward to teaching more memoir classes in June. The classes will be on Zoom and I will continue with six or more students in two and one half hour sessions. 

In my last classes, I was delighted with my students and how they shared their life stories. They have said they will sign up again. Many of their narratives are publishable in the right venue.

By the second week in June, I will have my house on the market with a good realtor. I know someone will want my home which is privately set on a lot with no neighbors around it but the turkeys, the deer, and lots of birds. I see Pileated Woodpeckers from my living room. A small owl perched all day on my downstairs deck and hummingbirds flock to my feeders. In an old birdhouse in front, a pair of bluebirds hatch their young every spring. Wrens and other small birds like my deck garden where they build nests and teach their fledglings how to fly. 

1995 when we moved to our home
in the mountains

Everyone says my house will sell and sell quickly. I tear up at the thought of leaving a place where I spent some of the happiest times of my life with my husband of 45 years. But I am resetting my sails to deal with the winds of aging and health issues. Some things we have no control over, however, I constantly work at being able to write, teach, and to see loved ones. My sister, Gay, and I find things to laugh about every day and many of those things involve our misspoken names, words, or foolish things we do. We laugh at ourselves. I believe laughter is healing and love is, also. 

I will hold writing classes on Tuesdays,  6 - 8:30 PM, June 4,11,18.

See the Writing Classes for 2024 page for more information about the classes.

Going back to NC

Readers, if you are still with me after such a long absence, I appreciate you very much.

I look forward to going back to NC next week.

Scott Owens, the fabulous poet from Hickory, NC will come to our area on Thursday, April 18 to speak and read some of his outstanding poetry. He is always interesting to listen to and he will have some of his books for sale at the John C. Campbell Folk School in the Keith House where we will meet at 7:00 PM.

I will also speak and read prose that evening. As many of you know, I write poetry and prose, but at this meeting, Scott will share his poetry and I will share a short story or a nonfiction narrative from the many I have written over the years.

All of us who know Scott and his work will be happy to have him stay over to teach a workshop on Friday afternoon 1:30 – 4:00 at the Moss Library in Hayesville. You can read more about this event at www.netwestwriters.blogspot.com

Although we need fees to pay Scott for coming so far, we cannot ask for them because the library’s rules say we can only ask for donations and must be open to the public. But we ask for donations of at least $40 and registration sent to Sandy Benson 310 Quail Cove Cir.  Warne NC 28909

If someone wants to attend and cannot make a donation, we will welcome them. It is helpful to know who and how many will be attending so we hope to hear from you if you plan to be there.

Contact me at gcbmountaingirl@gmail.com if you have any questions.

Meanwhile, I am happy to finally take off the sling I have worn for six weeks because of my surgery. I am still doing physical therapy three times a week and can’t use my left arm much, but was told I have healed very well and will have good range of motion if I stay with PT. Thanks to those who sent me good wishes and said prayers for me. I am very fortunate to be here with my sister and brother-in-law who are so good to me. Without their love and care, I don’t know how I would have managed.

If you live within driving range, I hope to see you on April 18, at the folk school with Scott Owens. And if you write or want to learn to write poetry, be sure to register for the workshop on Friday, April 19 at the Moss Library in Hayesville, NC.

Until next time, stay well and be generous. Even giving a smile away to others is a gift much appreciated.

Brandy, My Miracle Dog

                                                

            

WHAT'S NEXT, MOM?

        Brandy, my miniature black poodle, rode with his front paws firmly planted on the top of the Honda motorcycle, his little rear end on the seat between my legs as I sped down the farm road. His long ears waved behind him in the wind like two black flags. Together we leaned into the curves and he never once lost his balance.

            My husband Barry gave Brandy to me as a wedding present one week after we married. I should have been aware that the puppy would own me before too long. He was a tiny curly ball of fur, jet black and shiny. Only six weeks old. His face with a pink tongue peeping from his smiling mouth and his two inquisitive eyes should have been a hint that he would lead us on a merry chase as we came to adore him.

            I loved his new puppy smell as I buried my face in his coat.  He licked my face and I knew we were meant for each other. That first night we made him a bed in a box in the kitchen complete with a soft blanket, a ticking clock, and old socks. We went to bed feeling like proud parents. It turned out to be a long night, and in the morning, the puppy was sleeping on my pillow.

            For the first three months of Brandy's life, he and I were inseparable. He ran free in our small furnished apartment and behaved himself surprisingly well most of the time.

            In September I went back to work teaching fourth grade. We left him alone for the first time, confined to the dining room just in case he grew bored or had an accident being left inside for such a long time. Although he cried when I closed the door on my way out, I felt certain he would settle down once he saw I was not coming back.

            To my dismay, Brandy met me at the back door that afternoon. I looked down and saw this tiny dog standing in an explosion of foam rubber strewn from the back door to the living room and all over the kitchen. After a brief survey, it was obvious. Brandy had jumped up on a chair and from there to the dining room table.  From the table, he leaped through the spindles of a wall divider into the living room. That was where he proceeded to destroy three sofa cushions and then to chew each of the legs of the coffee table.     

That escapade was expensive, and we knew we had to do something right away. We replaced the ruined furniture and made a decision that became a turning point in our lives. We moved to the farm where I had grown up and where my parents still lived.

On the farm, Brandy ran free when we were home. He chased cows, and made friends with my horse, although he was somewhat jealous of her. He nipped her on the nose. He was content to be fenced when we were gone.

One Sunday afternoon, Barry climbed up on the roof to repair a television antenna. In a rush to watch a football game, he left the ladder leaning against the house and forgot about it.

Early the next morning, we left for work in different cars. I arrived home around four o'clock in the afternoon. As I drove up I couldn't believe my eyes. Brandy came running, as he always did when he saw me, but this time he was running up on the roof. I clambered out of the car knowing, in his eagerness to reach me, he was going to jump.

My heart pounded. I ran toward him. But Brandy, far more intelligent than I realized at the time, scampered over to the ladder, scurried down, head first, never missing a step until he was three feet from the ground. At that point, he jumped. I heaved a sigh of relief, gathered him up in my arms, and hugged him. I looked up and wondered why he decided to climb the ladder? How long had he been up there? Over the years of living with him, I became aware that Brandy was an unusual dog. We had more to come.

WHAT'S HAPPENING NOW

As I recover from shoulder surgery, I have had to cancel my ZOOM writing classes. We had six students who were writing and bonding and I look forward to continuing later this year, maybe in April or May.

Meanwhile, I look forward to meeting with writers and poets who knew Raven Chiong, when I return to Hayesville in March.  

In April I plan to read at the Literary Hour at John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, NC.

Our special guest that evening is Scott Owens, a wonderful poet, from Hickory, NC.

The date is April 18, Thursday, 7:00 PM in the Keith House.  

Friday, April 19, Scott will hold a workshop for poets at Moss Memorial Library, Hayesville, NC.

donations requested.

CONGRATULATIONS TO JOSEPH BATHANTI

JOSEPH BATHANTI 

Congratulations to Joseph Bathanti, friend and poet from Western North Carolina. 

He has been our featured guest on Netwest’s Zoom programs and our one-day writing conference. Joseph is always so gracious when we invite him. He will be inducted into the North Carolina Literary Hall of Fame along with Ron Rash and Kaye Gibbons two authors who have written many excellent books and received many awards. There are several more outstanding writers on this list.

Bathanti was the Poet Laureate of NorthCarolina from 2012 to 2014 and has received both the North Carolina Award for Literature and the Order of the Long Leaf Pine. He is the author or editor of more than 20 books of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, and criticism. Since 2001 he has taught at Appalachian State University in Boone.

I hope Joseph will teach a poetry class for our NCWN-West poets in 2024. We would all gain so much from having him with us even if on Zoom.

Writing classes for 2024 Instructor Glenda Beall

Classes are taught via Zoom - Register to receive your invitation to participate.

Instructor: Glenda Council Beall

Glenda is a very capable, empathic, and insightful writing teacher, who creates and sustains a safe, warm space for students to learn and become successful writers.

Most of her students are beginning writers, and Glenda wants them to feel comfortable when they share their writing with others. She is a firm believer in encouragement rather than criticism but always finds ways to help writers improve their work without embarrassing them or making them feel defeated. 

Writing Your Memories into Stories for Your Family or for Publication

Tuesdays – 6:00 – 8:00 PM - January 23 and 30 - February 13

Fee: 60.00  for three classes

Online with Zoom

There are reasons why certain memories stay with us. We don’t remember everything that has happened in our lives, but we remember those things that made a difference.

Why are they important to us? 

Who are the people in our lives we want to remember and tell their stories so our children and grandchildren will know them as well?

What do you want your family to know about your life and why? Today young people hardly know their grandparents’ history, where they were born, what they did for work, and what tragedies or successes they had. We don’t sit on the porch and talk like our parents once did. Unless you write your unique story, no one will know it.  

We all have individual stories, and we can learn to write them to inform and enlighten our readers.  You might think your family is not interested in your story, but one day they will be so glad you took the time to write it.

In class, we share our stories and receive feedback from our peers that help us know what is good and what might need some more work. Each student gets individual attention from me with suggestions on how to make his/her story the best it can be.

My classes are for beginning and intermediate writers, published or non-published.

For registration information: gcbmountaingirl@gmail.com 

Retreats for Writers - The One I Refused

This is the time for writers and poets to enter the NC Writers’ Network contests. Visit the website: www.ncwriters.org to learn about them. If you are a member of NCWN, you receive the information in your weekly newsletter.

I noticed in the most recent communication from the Network that several places are offering residencies for writers who can come and stay in a private house or cabin for a week or two and have time to write! No other responsibilities.

In 2008 I received a letter from Wild Acres, a beautiful place outside Little Switzerland NC. Wild Acres offered a residency which I applied for, and I was overjoyed when I received the letter saying I was accepted for September.

A cabin at Wild Acres for someone who was chosen for a Residency 

But in July, Barry was diagnosed with lymphoma. 

He had a tumor in his leg just above his knee. We had been sent to Emory for a second opinion. The doctors agreed Barry must have chemo and radiation. They seemed to ignore it was stage 4 and he was 73 years old. Barry had the most positive attitude of anyone I had ever seen. But it was obvious he did not want me to go away and leave him for two weeks. I would never think of doing that. I was disappointed that I had to refuse Wild Acres, but I was definitely going to be by my husband’s side during his fight to overcome cancer.

I feared the journey we were facing but had no idea what was going to happen. 

He struggled for a year in and out of hospitals, dealing with doctors at home and in Atlanta. Doctors told me when his pain grew worse and his leg looked like it had been badly burned, that they could give him more chemo. We tried one round of the stronger chemo and it was awful for him. For two days he was on IVs as the poison leaked into his body.

“It will damage his heart and he will eventually die from a heart attack," I was told. He did not have more chemo.

Finally, in July 2009, the cancer had become a horrible nightmare. His entire lower body became so swollen that it scared us, and no one was doing anything to help him. I knew he didn’t want to be kept alive to suffer, so when Hospice was suggested, I took it. He had turned over his medical care to me. He suffered extreme pain that could not be stopped. We had always agreed that we did not want to be kept alive when we knew we could not be healed.

The oxygen was removed. No meds were given except to try to stop the pain. He slept.

Within three days, his heart failed, and he died. I was devastated and grief overwhelmed me for a long time.

Several years later, I applied again for that residency at Wild Acres but was rejected. It would have been a wonderful time up in the smoky mountains, the green trees, the long walks in the quiet, but Barry came first, and I am happy that I spent all the days he had left with him, and I spent each night, too. 

Big Sur

I drive along the freeway,
cars like inchworms creep.
I visualize a moment
far removed from traffic jams.

High above the scene,
we picnicked on cheese and wine.
The wind swept up the cliff
and kissed my face with droplets
from the great Pacific which crashed
on rocks one hundred feet below.

Wind tossed our words up to the gulls
who shrieked them back at us.
The day was dazzling in its brilliance.
Our love, not young, refreshed, renewed.
We dreamed, made promises.
That perfect day - a perfect place,
away from all the world.
                        --- Glenda Council Beall

Writing Classes are coming and So is Christmas

Carol Crawford is teaching a week-long class at the John C. Campbell Folk School in January 2024. Oh, how I would like to be there for that class. Carol is one of my favorite instructors of writing.

The Art of Creative Nonfiction, 

January 14 - 19, 2024, 

on the John C. Campbell Folk School campus.  Here's that link:

https://folkschool.configio.com/pd/1749/the-art-of-creative-nonfiction?st_t=2077&st_ti=2516&cid=2527&returncom=productlist&source=search

She promises to teach some online courses in the coming year and I will definitely sign up for one of those.

I plan to teach on Zoom this winter, January - February. Since I am not in the mountains for a while, I am happy I can take classes and teach online. I will 

give more details after Christmas.

I have a busy week ahead and one of the things I must do is take my car in to get repairs. I bought this pre-owned car a few months ago but I have found out the car had problems in the past that are showing up again. 

I did not know this when I bought this Toyota, and I am going to have to confront the dealership about it. Send me some good vibes, Readers. I don't like to do this kind of thing, but I will.

Beautiful Triptch by Gay Moring is displayed every Christmas

I hope you all are enjoying the holiday season. I used to get excited and anxious with Christmas shopping and guests for Christmas, but now my holidays are much simpler. I miss having family for Christmas dinner and holding the Beall family Christmas at my house. Barry's mother would drive down from north Georgia and stay a few days with us after we built our house. She always bought her homemade chili that was so good, and usually a chocolate cake. Barry's brother, Richard, and his sister-in-law would drive up from Florida for a weekend. I enjoyed them so much. 

Life is different now, but it is still good to be with my family, much smaller now.