Suffragettes eat cake too

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A few days ago one of my mother’s oldest friends emailed me, my sister and a few others to see if we were interested in honoring her memory with a walkway board at the wild animal sanctuary where she had worked. Since then I’ve been looking at my mother’s old photos on line and came across this gem that was written exactly 107 years ago, today.

My great grandmother invited Susan B. Anthony to her 12th birthday party.

Letter 1

Sadly she was too busy to attend. She did, however, promise to have someone at headquarters send her a new photo of herself. I’m guessing that to Ruth’s twelve-year-old self she was as cool as Lady Gaga is to my friend’s twelve-year-old girls. My twelve-year-old self had Stevie Nicks… but that’s another story for another day.

Turns out, the parcel with the new photo did not arrive in a timely fashion, so Ms. Anthony wrote her a short letter to explain what had happened…

Letter 2

I see that Ms. Anthony did not have in her school the vertical writing. This letter is not plainly read.

Letter 3

I’m not sure if she ever did get her picture… but if not, it was not for lack of trying.

 

Ink on paper (and cow poop on the street)

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DSC01690

The other day at lunch with one of our print sales people, we were all talking about how while we all may embrace digital content online, on a tablet or our phones, we are still drawn to holding a piece of actual printed material. That we're still attracted to the tactile experience of flipping through pages. I think most of us are. One of us mentioned being on a flight and watching a teenage boy wrapped up in his ipad tuck it away eventually and pull out a magazine to flip through.

Most of you know that I work in publishing, so of course am keenly aware of the impact digital content has on the printed word. I know that those of us who work in production and are involved on a day to day basis with printers have had some worries over this, but when it comes down to it… someone has to produce the content, whether it's for print, web, tablet or phone. 

The reason I even bother to bring this up is that while we were having this conversation over lunch, I was thinking about how I was still waiting to savor this book I'd received earlier in the week. I'm seriously one of those people that will not crack open a book or magazine until I have a proper moment to do so. This usually means a weekend morning with a strong cup of coffee and, if not outside, in my favorite red chair in the living room, in the corner with the perfect light. You see, it's still all about the whole tactile experience for me.

Oh, and by the way, if you have not ever seen Tif Fussell's blog Dottie Angel, you need to PDQ, or your day will be pants. 

Today is Elgin's Hogeye Festival, and I will be hawking tickets for Cow Patty Bingo. Don't know what that is? Google it. I know you're jealous.

You Say Harvest, I Say Blue

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Bill-Monroe-Bluegrass-Ramble

There are two things that I will forvever be grateful to my father for. One is for perfectly seasoning my cast iron skillets, and the other for taking me to see Bill Monroe & his Blue Grass Boys at Woodstock Opera House in Woodstock, Illinois.  Their gray suits, ties and white Stetsons just killed me. Because I had musician parents my musical tastes have always been eclectic, but that summer night in Illinois, I fell in love… with Bluegrass. I really did.

I named my teensy stationery biz, Bean Blossom Press, after his Bean Blossom Festival.

Today would be the centennial birthday of Bill Monroe.

Tonight when you're gazing at the harvest moon, give a little nod to Bill's Blue Moon of Kentucky