Last week end while driving home, I counted the nights slept here at the
Cottage at White Picket Gardens, seven in all. It is always good to come home. I
think of all the places I have called home the past few years...the places
where I sleep now...rooms of all different shapes that welcome me to them. Home
is where the heart is....ahh, yes, but maybe it is as simple as home is where
the toothbrush is?

I have spent some time thinking about Broadway shows this week...interesting
topic for the ending of winter. Last evening at the Historical Society in
Indy, I was noticing a figure on a friend's desk. It was a metal carving from
Circus Du Soleil. I have never seen that show, but have definitely put it on my
list. I am told that it pulses every sense we have ownership to...those of
you in large cities have privy to this show...let me know if you have seen it!
I was thinking of the first huge production I saw as a child. Mom and Dad
took us to the Schubert in Chicago to see Florence Henderson in Sound of Music.
We spent the week end...and I remember walking on red carpet...somewhere?

I remember theatre productions when I was little, curled up in the front row
of the Civic Theatre in Fort Wayne watching my Dad rehearse. I don't know if
my memory is correct, but I think that I sometimes had my hair in pincurls
and was ready to jump into bed when we arrived home late. I have several
newspapers clippings framed of my Dad...they sit around my house and I remember.

Once for a grown up birthday all I wanted to do was to take the boys and
their "dates" to see Phantom of the Opera. There must have been 16 of us piled
into that old brown van..first going out to dinner and then to the show. It was
actually Abe's first date...and that alone is another story!

Just a few years ago I went to New York to see Cats...I went alone. I think
of other cities where I have gone to see shows...Toronto, Paris, London,
Dublin, Detroit, Chicago (so many there I could not even count, except for Donnie
Osmond in Joseph, that would be three!!) Fort Wayne, Indianapolis (including
The Lion King a couple of weeks ago).

When thinking about all of this, it is no wonder I love storytelling and
theatre and often live a drama filled life. My classroom is full of costumes and
hats and wigs and shoes and props that will lie dormant with the canceling of
the theatre program at my school. It was a great seven year run.

I guess our lives are just productions...beginnings, intermissions,
endings...we play new roles as time goes by..changing our costumes, our lines, and
often our audience as well.

As I write tonight, my town is quiet, under the spell of cold weather and
winter..my poetry is my own haiku...my music tonight enchants me with just piano
concertos...my blessings, my love, my thoughts pour out into your homes, into
your lives.

Before I close, just a note, Sunday Passage will be on line beginning April
1. Maybe you should let me know if you would still rather receive it via
email, or if you want to go to my website each week. Until then, Lou Ann

End of Winter

soot streaked garden paths
burning rubble of winter
soggy dark branches

shivering flowers
wearing winter's coat of lace
frozen diadems

windfall of last snow
cover my rusted shovel
good night sweet winter