Reading · Anne The Passive Aggressive Poet

Yes, in my neck of the woods, it is a gorgeous, warm Spring day.

And the perfect time to take down those outdoor Christmas lights most folks put up in November.

Except.

I didn’t.

Instead, I put UP Christmas lights.

Yes.

You read that correctly.

I spent twenty minutes this afternoon adorning my front yard with strands of little twinkly bulbs.

Back in the day, Christmas lights were big multicolored ceramic things on tangle prone strands of wire that looked suspiciously unsafe for winter weather conditions.

You put them up, impressing your neighbors with your ability to untangle the strands, to climb around your roof without falling off and breaking your neck, and to appear blithely unconcerned with the thought of higher electric bills. Then, after a couple of weeks, maybe even three or four, you took them away. (Assuming you hadn’t burned down your house in the interim.)

Even after those much-safer-guaranteed-by-Underwriters-Laboratory twinkle things hit the market, outdoor residential lighting was pretty much restricted to the winter holiday season.

Leaving the holiday lighting up after January was simply not done. (Long before homeowners’ associations existed to try to tell you how to run your life, the neighbors would let you know when you were breaking protocol.)

I don’t know when this all changed for the nation but I remember when it changed for me.

Florence Parry Heide was a close friend. The beloved author of over one hundred children’s books, (The Shrinking Of Treehorn illustrated by Edward Gorey, Some Things Are Scary illustrated by Jules Feiffer and The House Of Wisdom illustrated by Mary Grandpré to name just a few) she lived in our neighborhood and threw wonderful summer parties for local children.

A feature of the festivities was a virtual wonderland of twinkle lights that were kept up, and lit, in both backyard and front, all year long.

Thus, began my own practice of illuminating my front yard and garden through all seasons and weathers.

Partly for the joy of it.

Partly so that, at night, I can find my driveway.

A few weeks ago, you may recall I had a new roof installed, thus necessitating the removal of said lights for the duration of the project. (Issue #150)

Then there was a blizzard.

Followed by several bone chilling, cruddy days during which I had no desire to wrestle with strands of twinkle lights.

No matter how cheerful the results.

Without my lights to guide me, I mistakenly pulled into the neighbor’s driveway at least three times.

So, today’s balmy climate was the perfect opportunity to restore order to my universe.

Pretty sure the neighbors will be equally happy about it.

In case I didn’t make it clear, those twinkle lights bring me joy.

And I need it.

Lately, it feels as though opportunities for joy have been thin on the ground.

There has been much more of this sort of thing:

I realize that much has to do with point of view.

I really do believe that joy is all around – in simple things like Christmas lights and warm weather and loving family and friends and hope in our hearts for better times.

But this constant need to force myself to remember it is exhausting.

And wearing me down.

Maybe because the joyful voices in my world are quiet and subtle and the negative voices are shouting, no, SCREAMING, for my attention.

If you have joyful things happening in your life that are keeping you going and lifting you up, I’d love for you to share them in the comments.

Or just message me if you are more comfortable with that.

I don’t focus on my life as a harpist/teacher here that often but I’ve got a thing coming up that I’m excited about.

A wonderful new coffeehouse and community space called the Frunchroom Collective has recently opened up in Libertyville, Illinois and I am partnering with them to offer an introductory harp class to beginners.

The really cool part is that I am providing all the harps - thirteen of them to be exact - so anyone who is curious about playing the harp can come get their hands on an instrument. (Well, almost anyone, the class size IS limited.)

There are two sessions offered - a morning only class for folks who just want to get their feet wet a bit and try a harp - and an all day session option (this includes the morning class and builds upon it) for people who might want to really dig into the instrument a bit more.

If you live anywhere close to Libertyville, and would like to try harp, check out the details on their website here on the events page. (You might have to scroll to get to it.)

I’m putting together a summer “Substack” tour of my poetry reading, humorous storytelling and harp music. It’s aimed at small venues like house concerts and book clubs and will rely on YOU, my readers, to tell me where you would like to come.

More background and details can be found by clicking on the Summer Tour menu header or using this button.

Summer "Let's Feel Better" Tour

If you would like me to come to your area, please contact me - either by hitting “reply” to this email or by messaging me here on Substack or posting in the comments.

I’d love to see what we can make together.