Once Upon a Time.. . . .

 

Princess and the Pea

Although I've loved historical fiction my whole life, I was always especially fond of medieval history. As a child, Princess and the Pea was my favorite story and I often tried to prove I was a princess because my skin was so easily irritated by stiff fabrics, tags in the back and hair brushes. I even went so far as to put things under my mattress to see if I could feel them: I did not. Over the years, I leaned toward the King Arthur legend, Charlemagne and the Crusades.  

Although genealogy has been a hobby of mine for 50 years, I have never been on a quest to find famous people in our family. I was content with finding where our ancestor came from. Recently I've tried a new web site that I'd only "visited" briefly over the years.  It's the Wikitree site which has a "World Tree".  The concept is we all add to the same tree.  There are problems galore when thousands (millions?) of genealogists around the world are contributing. But, we are supposed to provide proof for our additions not hearsay or family legends.

So, I spent several weeks entering information (with sources), and then I found "gateway ancestors" which aligned my tree with royalty and nobility.  The royals have been genealogists for centuries so they aren't marrying too many cousins (like the Hapsburg line did).  With a "gateway ancestors", they've introduced me to family on every throne throughout Western Europe for centuries---most are cousins (King Charles III is our 16th cousin) and uncles, but several are indeed royal ancestors. 

Charlemagne

I think the first "royal" I found in our direct line was Charlemagne (748-814)  who is also known as Charles the Great.  It's been suggested that every person of European descent has Charlemagne as their ancestor. For many years, I've considered him the greatest king of all time. When I taught, I often told the story of Charlemagne learning to read because he knew the power of reading.  He encouraged education, opening schools and promoted legible writing including the widespread use of the question mark.  He always had a book under his pillow.  We have 76,759 paths to Charlemagne.He's my 33 and 36 great grandfather through my father LeRoy Long which makes him 35 and 38 greats for my grandchildren.  I sat stunned probably for about a week with the news.

He was the first emperor of the Carolingian empire consisting of what is today France, Germany, Belgium, Austria, Switzerland, Netherlands, Luxembourg,  and part of Italy and Czech Republic.  He is often called the The Father of Europe. He was very large even by today's standards 6"2".  The photo above is his reliquary located in Aachen, Germany.

Charlemagne had over 20 children with numerous wives and mistresses.  He insisted that all of the children receive a liberal arts education in addition to needlework for the girls and riding and weaponry for the boys.  I descend from two of them for sure : Bertha and Hlodowic (Louis). Others have some degree of uncertainty in the lineage.

Hlodowic

Hlodowic (Louis/Ludwig) was Charlemagne's heir becoming King of the Franks and King of Aquitaine. He is sometimes known as Louis the Pious, Louis the Fair and my favorite: Louis the Debonaire.  We descend from his daughter Gisela who was known for her virtue and piety.  She dedicated her life to educating her children with her husband Eberhard who became St. Eberhard. (We descend from at least three saints: St. Eberhard, St. Margaret of Scotland and San Fernando)

None of Charlemagne's daughters married---he feared their husbands would become political rivals.  It didn't stop them from having long-term relationships and children. But, it shows the political importance of marriages at this time.  Bertha is praised in particular for "having critical discernment and an appreciation for poetry".  

When her father died, she and her sisters went to live in convents which their father left them.  It's unknown which convent she entered but it was probably St. Riquier where her partner Angilbert had become the lay-abbot.

So, now when the tag in my shirt hurts, I nod and think, "It's just my Princess gene".

Leaving

In the spring, 

we unfurled ourselves

like leaves budding on a branch

reaching out to the sun for warmth,

excited about tomorrow:

nourished and encouraged 

by friends: 

inter-weaving our lives, 

believing in endless possibilities.

In the summer, 

we danced together in the gentle wind

supporting each other during the storms that came swiftly:

Most of us growing stronger— 

withstanding each storm---

perceiving we were invincible.

But.. . . .some didn’t survive the storm 

and 

fell 

away: 

leaving us behind.

In the autumn of my life,

my friends are getting weaker and leaving.

Some can’t hold on even on a quiet day:

Ever so gently falling. 

I struggle to hang on. 

I’m weary of grieving.

What will the winter bring?

A long restorative rest, 

or

will I fly away on the winter wind?

Travelling with Three Young Daughters

Visiting wax museums, a medieval feast, Hadrian's Wall, Stonehenge, ice cream treats, castle mazes, Beatrix Potter’s home, sleeping on a farm with cute kittens before. .. .

Cartwheeling at Canterbury Cathedral.

Sleeping on a slow boat to Holland, amusement parks, miniature villages, windmills before departing on a night train through Germany, visiting Memmingen, Munich and Mad Ludwig's castles.

While taking a carriage ride up to Neuschwanstein Castle with an elderly man from England, 

He looked at the girls, smiled  and said:

"Did I see you cartwheeling at Canterbury Cathedral?"

June 1986

English Language and Poetry

I love the English language.  While some people majored in English for literature and some for writing, I majored in English  because I love the language:  the history, the idiosyncrasies, the sounds, the plays on words and the shear poetry of it. Studying literature, I was attracted to poetry because it is English at its finest with each word carefully chosen.

Beginning with nursery rhymes, I've always enjoyed poetry.  I even wrote a piece about friends while at Girl Scout Camp "Everyone has friends, The butcher, the baker, The candlestick maker.  Everyone has friends." Sounds a little like a nursery rhyme doesn't it?

 One reason I enjoyed studying German was to better understand how English evolved as a Germanic language.  There I found the answers to questions like "Why does "two" have a "w" in it?" (Depending on the dialect, "two" is "zwei" or "zwo"in  German)  

While in high school I read poetry in Speech and Drama Tournaments.  Reading and analyzing William Blake's "The Tyger" took me to State where I won 2nd place. After re-reading it,today, I kind of wonder what I said about it that got me to State. I did give it a very dramatic reading which was more points than the analysis, I guess.

Later while in college I studied Victorian and Romantic Poets, but I never attempted to write poetry again until I was an adult.  I first began writing humorous rhyming pieces for invitations or  for greeting cards. One year I decided to write Haiku to accompany art my daughters' made for Christmas cards .Click here

When I taught English, of course I taught poetry.  The Harlem Renaissance poets really caught my eye.  I also enjoy Maya Angelou and lately Amanda Gorman.  I loved their terse style and vivid imagery in addition to the "blues"  Click here

Of course a message or a story is important. To achieve that a poet uses metaphors, similes, alliteration, form, personification, sound, repetition, rhythm, rhyme, symbolism and imagery. Not all poems have them all and rhyme is just one element which I choose not to use.

Rhyming is not important to me----rhymes are often forced.  And. .. ..what rhymes for a person in 18th century England doesn't rhyme in 21st century America.   So, I don't see rhymes as being universal for all English speaking people. However, rhymes don't have to be at the end of a line.  I aspire to rhyme like Amanda Gorman with her internal rhyming: 

We did not feel prepared to be the heirs of such a terrifying hour,
but within it, we found the power to author a new chapter, to offer hope and laughter to ourselves."

After many years, I started writing poetry again.  It's not something I can just sit down and start writing.  It's more like an itch that I need to scratch.  I find words and phrases in my head that I keep playing with. I write notes sometimes in text messages to myself.  After a while it starts to take shape.  I've even written poetry about. . . .writing poetry.

Words in the Wind

 

Words, images, ideas whirl in my head like leaves in the wind.

I try to catch them in the breeze, but they have their own mind.

I sit  and watch and wait.

The wind slows, 

the leaves drift down---

Fluttering to the ground, 

settling in the grass:

Poetry on a page.

Whittling Words

Writing poetry

is not just rhyming

not just couplets

not just alliteration.

Writing poetry

is choosing 

words wisely, whittling  away

at thoughts,

until a form appears,

an image takes shape---

Smoothing down the edges,

Sanding down the unnecessary,

Searching for the true.

Writing poetry

is not rhyming 

not couplets

Not alliter. . . hmm. . . .maybe 

alliteration is all right after all.

Cottonwood Tango

Cotton wood trees 

sparkling in the sun

like spangled Spanish dancers.

Branches bow and  dance in synchronized rhythm while

Saplings bend and sway in the sultry summer breeze

Leaves softly clapping.

Cicadas clicking castanets 

in cascading sound.

The staccato tapping 

of woodpeckers.

Cotton seeds drifting :

Confetti crescendo

The wind dies down.

The trees stand still.

The woodpecker flies. 

The silence is punctuated by a distant airplane,

The show is over.

    . . .for now