The Poetry of Anne Maren-Hogan

“I can feel the grit of dust and crunch of downed cornstalks in these poems.  They are not nostalgic ditties, but instead are strong songs, often in a haunting minor key, that remove me to a time when many footsteps, from many families, from many homes, sounded on the Midwestern farm scape.”

Timothy Fay  (taken from  the back cover of Anne’s book of poetry)

Anne and Sam  with the Mrs and I  March 23 2013

I was introduced to Anne Maren-Hogan’s book of poetry this past November by her nephew Chris.

I would be the first to admit I am not a big reader of poetry….which makes what happened to me all the more powerful.

I can still remember sitting in Ms Burns 7th grade class reading “Jonathan Livingston Seagull. “

I got the impression something deep and profound was  going on in that story, but it was  beyond me.

(The same thing happened in Mr Newland’s slide rule class…..I felt  over my head and could not swim)

NEVER  wanting  to find  myself in that sort of discussion setting again.

Flash forward 40 year .

Chris  hands me a little book of poetry @ coffee break written by his aunt Anne. (Chris works with me)

In my mind, I’m thinking...oh/ no/  if I take it, he’s going to ask me later what I think…?

I will be exposed for the uncultured farm boy that I am.

I took the book.

I inhaled the book.

I discovered a writer that drew me in.

She wrote about growing up in a large farm family , not too many miles from me.

Here’ another quote from the back of the book:

“With narrative grace and keen insight, Anne Maren-Hogan celebrates the strength and perseverance of women.  Spanning two decades, the poems in The Farmers Wake offer a thoughtful meditation on family, place and culture.   The poems move beyond a chronicle of farm lief in the Midwest to remind us all of the very human connections we share with each other and this earth.  The landscape in these poems may be harsh and isolated, but the writing is rich and rewarding: stitching it all together with this certainty/ of leaving and returning as  Maren-Hogan writes in “Lifting My Eyes”  Pat Riviere-Seel

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Anne and her husband Sam were back in the area this past week visiting family.

I’d built a multipurpose addition to our shop this Fall and had been wanting to do a “German Building dedication”

Last Saturday night, was the dedication.

Anne and Sam, joined us for a night of poetry/ music and mirth.

I asked Anne,  if she cared if I included one of her poem on this post.  So I did get her blessing.

I intended to include my favorite poem titled The Farmer’s Wake”

(It is about her dad’s wake)

I’ve had a change of heart.

I’m going to hold off  because  I feel like she  has shared something with us very precious and sacred.

A  glimpse into her heart.

I will instead give you a link to her book of poetry, so you could have your own copy.

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In case you stumble across this post later Anne, I just want to say  thank you again for  sharing your heart, both in your poems and for actually coming and reading them aloud .

I am a wealthy man.  DM

German building dedication

Lead carpenter (me) nailing the evergreen branch to the gable. 

A trip to the Vet

Little Moe is the latest addition to our family

A pet chicken…

and not just any chicken mind you…a handicapped chicken

Here’s a recent photo:

He’s got a gimpy leg.  His right one just wants to flop

Last night I posted a 40 second video clip of Little Moe hobbling around on our face book home page.

A good friend and fellow blogger Kristina got after me and said I needed to take him to the vet.

Now in my mind that is a $35 to $40 office call/ not to mention any treatment that might have been suggested, so I let the need be known on face book.  I was willing to take him to the vet but we were not in a position financially @ this point to cover the cost.

Would you believe I had 2 people step forward, willing to underwrite Little Moe’s visit…

There are still  lots of kind tender heart-ed people out there, I meet them all the time.

I asked my wife to call the clinic first thing this morning to see if they’d see a pet chicken

Yep

The Vet clinic called at 2:30 this afternoon  and said we could bring him in for a check up….

Here are some action photos from our time @ the vets:

Little Moe in the pet carrier waiting to see the vet

the Vet and I before he examines Little Moe

Little  Moe getting a check up

As I was driving into town I thought about the situation

What if there was nothing that could be done and this little bird is in constant pain?

What would be the loving thing to do?

What would you do?

At first the Veterinary  thought there was a broken bone

The more he manipulated the leg and felt around, he decided it wasn’t broken

Rather, Little Moe seems to be missing some tendons in that area of his leg

I asked if he were in pain.

Nope, didn’t appear to be

There was really nothing that could be done, in terms of a splint etc.  it just is what it is.

We talked briefly about some guy on the TV last night who shoots a bow and arrow with only his feet….

I guess that came up because Little Moe seems to be making allowances for his handicap in other ways.

I’ve had 3 different people suggest to me I ought to write a children’s book with Little Moe as the main character….

Any takers in the audience who would be willing to team up with me on this?  I’m thinking the story line doesn’t have to be really very long..

I think I need an illustrator as well.  If you’re at all interested let me know.

Well, I better go outside and shut the door to the chicken house.  I let Little Moe and his friends free range during the day, but have to lock them up at night or they may wind up as someone’s dinner in the middle of the night.

DM

To Hell with it, let the story begin….

“How does the creative impulse die in us?  The English teacher who wrote fiercely on the margin of your them in blue pencil: “Trite, rewrite,”  helped to kill it .  Critics kill it, your family.  Families are great murders of the creative impulse., Particularly husbands.  Order brothers sneer at younger brothers and kill it.  There is that American pass time known as “kidding” – with the result that everyone is ashamed and hangdog about showing the slightest enthusiasm or passion or sincere feeling about anything.”  Brenda Ueland

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I have been sitting on a mother load of raw material for another book for 4 years,  every bit as interesting as the Little House On the Prairie or  Janette Oke’s Love Comes Softly series, and yet I’ve done nothing with it.

Saturday  Steve stopped by  for coffee.   He asked me (again )  “Well, how’s the book coming?”

“I’m stuck,” I said.. “I have writer’s block”…(I thought to myself….in good measure because of you”

(Hi Steve!  I know once in a while you stop by the blog..so just in case, I know you mean well )

Tonight I picked up my favorite book on writing by Brenda  Ueland  “If you Want to Write.”

And  it felt like someone was stirring the coals down in the furnace of  my soul. .  She  is the type of  friend we all long for…a friend who can speak grace into our timid souls.  I love her, even though  I never met her and she’s been gone since 1985 @ the ripe old age of 93.

Brenda encouraged me to write  ” Bold, Free, and  Truthful.”…

and on that note, I thought I would give the book another try….

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Introduction

On The Trail Of Lyman Dillon

 “I can still see that man …had a dam rod as thick as my arm over his arm…he was laying there, couldn’t move.  Both engines were laying in the ditch.  Then the Doctor hollered. “Does anybody got some whiskey???  Come on get some!  If you got nothing, get some!  We’ve got to have whiskey for this guy.”  They poured the whole pint in him.  He was suffering….  It took all day and all night… It was 35 to 40 below.  You don’t ever forget those things….”

Grandpa  recalling the train accident South of his farm in 1929

One afternoon   May of 2007 , on a lark I  listened to a  tape I’d made of my Grandpa  from 1999.  He retold several stories from his youth.

After  the tape finished , I got on line  and did a search of Iowa History –    The February 21^st 1921 edition of The Palimpsest came up.

The article described the journey of Marcus L. Hansen and John E. Briggs retracing the route of Old Military Road September of 1920 as they came into my home town.  They  imagined  who else had  traveled the   road….Concord stage coaches,  circuit riding preachers,  dragoon soldiers, immigrant wagons  by the hundreds, even Lyman Dillon, who was famous for  plowing  a furrow to mark the original route in 1839.

As I read Hansen and Brigg’s account 87 years after their walk, it stirred something deep within me-

     As far as I knew, no one else had ever retraced the route on foot since Hansen and Briggs, and if so,  it wasn’t well-known.   I said to my wife, “I think it’s time someone does it again.” 

      That set in motion a series of events.

  The Palimpsest article mentioned Mr Lyman Dillon-

   “In 1839, 147 years ago, Lyman Dillon plowed a furrow from Dubuque to Iowa City.  Reportedly it is the longest furrow ever plowed- almost 100 miles.  Using a prairie breaking plow and five yoke of slow, lumbering, stubborn oxen…”

I tried to imagine Dillon with a breaking plow and 10 oxen cutting a furrow through virgin prairie.  Tall grass prairie  ten feet high- you could loose a man on a horse in it.  black bear, wolves – not to mention Native Americans being crowded off their land.

Hanson and Briggs had retraced Old Military road in 1920.  As far as I knew, no one had done it since, so I said to my wife, I think it’s about time someone does it again…..I chose September of 2008 to retrace  it myself.

I was curious to know what the landscape would have looked like, if any of the original road still existed, and what significant events might have happened along the route.

I became a student of   early Iowa history….

to be continued….

Hook Me

    

      ”Three  pirate boats  encircled Charlie’s  yacht  thinking he would be an  easy target.  What they didn’t count on was he’d served with the Marines in Viet Nam, and when he’d outfitted his boat,  he’d planned for this sort of thing….”      

    Recent conversation around  our  B and B breakfast table  Hook #1

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     ” A truck driver sexually harassed me this morning on my way here from Walmart,”  my eldest daughter  told me when I got home from work.  

     She continued: “As I was merging, he waved and I waved back thinking it might be someone I knew.    Then I realized I didn’t .    Addy was in the back seat sound asleep in her  car seat.  A couple of minutes later when I tried to pass him, he sped up- and I couldn’t get around.  I looked at my speedometer – I was going over 80 mph so I said, what the heck and got back in the right lane….then  he started to slow down.    This cat and mouse game went on for 15 minutes until I got to  our exit.  It really shook me up.  I didn’t get his license plate number but I do remember the name on his mudflaps….”

    At this point I got on the internet….

 

Excerpt of a conversation with my eldest daughter  two  summers ago.-  Hook #2

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     I woke up on Wednesday  to the sound of a contented giggle coming from under the covers.  I looked over  to see my wife  of 30 years still asleep with a  smile.      “What’s so funny?”  I asked. 

Early morning conversation this week in our home- hook #3

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     “Jr- take a look at this-  how bad  is it ?”

     Dad had been working in the basement with an electric chainsaw when it had kicked back, catching him on the forehead. 

       There was blood on his stocking hat…..

This happened the Summer of 1997- hook #4

    

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     The  silver Pontiac cut in front of me at the crest of the hill.   Calvin, Bernie, Steve and I were headed to Central Park fishing.   I was south of Amber on the gravel  when our right front corners clipped.  I stayed on the road, but  the other vehicle landed in the ditch at an  angle, his two right wheels barely on the shoulder.    We ran to the car… in the back seat was an 83 yr old woman…..

This happened the summer I turned 16- hook #5

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     Grace  has offered to look at the rough draft of  my new book “On The Trail Of Lyman Dillon.”

     As we talked this week,  I realized :

  #1  Writing is hard work! 

 #2  I needed  to work on my “hooks”  (for those of you non-writers like me..it’s the idea of “hooking” your reader out of the gate)

 #3  Think in terms of the five senses when writing.   (Smell, taste,visual, hear and touch.)

Today’s post is a compilation of actual events from my life , practicing the “hook”.