LIFE OF A POET ~ KATHLEEN OF THE OZARKS

This week, kids, we are making a trek to the Ozarks, to visit talented poet and photographer, Kathleen Everett, who writes at The Course of Our Seasons. Kathleen took the glorious photos that grace this interview, and I was hard pressed to limit myself to a handful. Kathleen has a cool story, so gather 'round, draw your chairs in close, and let's dive in. 

Sherry: Kathleen, I'm stoked. I've been wanting to hear your story since I read of your love of the Ozarks. Give us a mental snapshot of where, and with whom, you live today, kiddo. Tell us about falling in love with the Ozarks.

A sweet pic of me and Bob, photoshopped by a friend 

- the background is pretend!

Kathleen: Sherry, thanks so much for inviting me for this conversation. I live in a small house on Table Rock Lake, in southwestern Missouri, in a region called the Ozarks. I live with my husband, Bob,  our precious pup, Theodore Valentine Everett, and my 83 year old mom.

THEODORE VALENTINE EVERETT

We fell in love with the Ozarks very serendipitously, one perfect October weekend. We were driving from our home in Dallas, Texas,  to visit friends in Minnesota and just stopped for the night in Fayetteville, AR. The weather was perfect, startling blue skies, flaming maples, and terrain filled with steep rocky ridges and deep green hollows with splashing creeks and rivers. How could you not fall in love – it was magical.

A few years later, we were in the position to re-create our lives – so after much consideration – we moved to NW Arkansas. And found it even more magical.

Sherry: Congratulations on recently celebrating your 33rd anniversary! And Theodore is a sweetheart! The Ozarks sound glorious. I get such a sense of where you live, from the following poem of yours.

Summer Night in the Ozarks

sweet water from the well
casts the evenings magic spell
as the fiddlers resin up their bows
mandolins court and spark
in the early summers dark
lighting fireflies to twinkle and glow
its not every night but now
we will sing and tell stories how
we lived and dreamed and truly loved
its not every night but when
we will gather up to dance again
and the music rises
to the summer moon above

so grab your partner
and coo and dove
hug your friends and swing your love
cause all we have is the music
and the stars
its not every night but now
we are here and this is how
we celebrate the music of our lives

Bob on his birthday

Sherry: This poem gives such a sense of community. You are blessed, living there. Happiness. Is there a poem or two you would like to share with us?

The Moon Makes Me Laugh

The moon makes me laugh.

Her face pink-gold with exertion

Pushing past the horizon,

Filling the constellations,

To rise in her nights journey.

As she climbs, she prays

in the voice of my mother,

“I see the moon, the moon sees me.

God bless the moon and God bless me.”

The moon makes me laugh.

Her bright face silver with light,

Gracefully easing into space,

Moving in celestial dance.

As she rises, she sings

In the voice of my father,

“Don’t the moon look lonesome,

shining through the trees.

Don’t the moon look lonesome,

when your baby packs up to leave.”

The moon makes me laugh.

From the dark bedroom

My sleepy voiced husband calls,

What are ya’ll doing? Come to bed.

We can’t, I answer.

We have moon sickness.

As the dogs and I moon-bathe,

Naked on the back porch.

Sherry: Ha! I SO love this poem! Another?

SOLSTICE SUNSET

 Song of Songs –There I Will Abide

I

And there I will abide
Abide seems to be a word
filled with soft meaning

and deep intent

I will abide

Belong, rest, take comfort, dwell,

I will abide

Withstand, endure, await, sojourn

Accepting without hesitation

I will abide

II

My love is my abode
His limbs pillars of fragrant cedar
To shield me in my rest

His arms are oaks of sinew and might

Silver is on his head

Burnished and gleaming

Sapphire are his eyes

More beautiful than the morning sky

His heart is of precious stones

More valuable than the kings stores

He calls my name

And I am safe

My love is my love

And there I will abide

Sherry: Sigh.  You are one lucky woman! Prior to this home, there was another, The Last Really Good Shack, which became, as you have written “one of the great loves of my life.” And your “first true home.” We would love to hear that story! 

Sketch of the Last Really Good Shack 
by Carol Allen

Kathleen: Well, it was not love at first sight, I can assure you!

Bob and I would travel back roads every Sunday, just looking around and seeing the different parts of the county. He pulled into what looked like a private farm road – gravel and dirt. But it went past the chicken and turkey houses (these are a ubiquitous feature of NW AR) and as we made a curve – this sad old house half way up the ridge came into view. It was awful – but Bob pulled in the drive – proceeded to bottom out in a deep rut, so we walked the rest of the way to the house. It was very obviously abandoned and we when tried the door, it fell into the room. Bob turned to me and said – “Home, sweet Home” and I knew then I was in trouble.

But after 6 weeks of long days and nights of hard labor, we moved in and proceeded to make it our home. The house responded to us – I know that may sound a little crazy, but it had a good spirit and everyone that visited felt it.

We had many adventures and misadventures, that I chronicle on my blog under the category The Last Really Good Shack.

I would like one day to put all these stories into a book – but we will see.

And thank you for using the pen and ink drawing of our home by my aunt, Carol Allen. She was a gifted artist. She died last summer after a long fight with cancer. We are so blessed to have had her in our lives, and this drawing is very special to us.

[Kids, do check it out. It is a hoot of a story. Especially if you like home renovating stories! Complete with a crazy chicken!]

Sherry: I'm so sorry you lost your aunt, Kathleen. She was very talented. Reading your memoir, I came across this wonderful poem to that place. It goes straight to my heart, for I once had a home like that, too.

Hearts True Home - 

A Poem for the Last Really Good Shack

Dirty, abandoned and abused

Its structure sound for a century

Its only redemption

On (not love at) first sight

A stony hillside of sunlight

Filled with narcissus and daffodils

Tears, time and sweat

Revealed the sturdy heart

Scrubbed shining and painted

Pure comfort readying

Hospitality fit for the angels

Who would soon fill its rooms

Surrounded by woods and meadows

Seven acres of Ozarks ridge

Blackberried fencelines

Visited by fox and white tailed deer

Trimmed in pink fairie roses

To crown the summer queen

Each peeper filled pond

Chime laden black haw

Secret fern covered spring

Rocky paths lined by red clover

Became daily destinations

Of wonder and solemn beauty

Seasons of sun and moon

Stars, comets and fireflies

Signs and wonders revealed

Violet winter days of deep snow

Green scented spring breezes

Autumns golden splendors

Its old structure still sound

Filled with echoes of love

Magical decade now a decade past

Memory erases the sadness

Leaving only the longing

Of hearts first true home

Sherry: Sigh. I'm a little choked up. And I'm so happy you found another wonderful home when you moved from there. 

So, now, going all the way back, where did you grow up? Did you live close to nature even as a child?

Kathleen: Most of my growing up years were in Texas. My dad moved quite a bit for his job, so the longest we lived in one town was 6 years.  We lived in St Louis, MO, Northern New Jersey and Denver, Colorado. That is where Bob and I met.

I don’t know that I necessarily felt close to nature as a kid – I was a town girl. But my grandparents taught us the names of birds and trees. And my mom loved her flower garden and always had bird feeders in the yard.  I loved the changing landscapes of the different places we lived and had an appreciation for beauty in nature.

Then marrying a landscape contractor really started me on the path to learning more. And once he could get me to move into the woods – I was hooked!

Sherry: I gather from skimming through your memoir that your mom has shared your adventures for many years and was right in the thick of it helping restore your farmhouse.......tell us about your mom.

Me and Mom

Kathleen: My mom was never afraid to tackle anything – she would refinish furniture, paint and wallpaper like a pro, make curtains or tablecloths for her house, and dig flower beds or lay sod if she wanted.

My dad died soon after we moved into the Shack, so mom spent quite a bit of time with us. And I would put her to work!  We painted and wallpapered the kitchen and dining room, stained the porch and painted the old wooden chairs that Bob found on the side of the road! He is well known for finding abandoned treasures.

Now, after a series of strokes, her energy level is not what it once was – but she still has plenty of opinions about my projects and is always there for advice and consul. We are grateful that we were able to build an apartment on to our house for her – she loves to watch the birds and the boats on the water. And somehow, she ended up with the best view of the lake – imagine that!

JULY MORNING

Reliquary

As I sweep into my hand

from the table’s edge,

the small sacrifices

you left for me,

I think about the saints

and their reliquaries.

Bits of bone

and parings,

faded cloth

and dusty splinters,

locked away in glass cases,

reflecting supplicants

kneeling in prayer.

Walking outside

under the dark heavens,

I release from my palm

the fragments of you

as the slender fingernail moon

rises brightly in the East.

Sherry: So beautiful, Kathleen. I love that 'fingernail moon'. When did you begin writing? Did you write both prose and poetry from the beginning?  What does poetry do for you that prose cannot do?

Kathleen: I fell in love with words as soon as I learned what the alphabet was and what it could do. In fact, my younger brother credits me with teaching him to read. I was so excited, I would come home from 1^st grade and teach him everything I had learned that day. Since he has a PHD and is a dean of Kenrick Seminary in St Louis, MO, I guess I did a pretty good job.

Poetry has been a great love – nursery rhymes and Dr Seuss books are my first memories of poetry in my life. I love the romantic poets – Keats is my favorite – and Whitman, and of course, mother of us all, Emily Dickinson.  

Poetry gives an immediacy to my writing – I can explore what I see and feel at that moment in time.

Prose is a longer, more studied writing. I enjoy researching and discovering things for my stories – and it takes significantly more time.

For Poets 

The quiet scritch of nub to page

Willing words to flow from pen

To enlighten minds or to engage

The subtle heart to open

Wages poor but riches deep

All these words we must not keep

But fling skyward in hurried flight

To give these feelings power and light

We write not what we want but need

Each kernel of soul, an egg, a seed

Watered in tears in anxious hours

Kind words encourage each to flower

Heed not the pain of doubt and fear

The willing hand gives help when near

And open hearts reveal for each to see

these lowly words become inspired poetry

Sherry: A beautiful poem about poetry! You are a very talented photographer, as well. I was hard-pressed to limit myself, among so many glorious choices. Tell us what you love about it. 

Kathleen: Thank you – though I would never claim to be a photographer – I started as a way to share what I see every day – the beauty of the seasons in this place I call home.  And a way to add to the visual interest in the blog.

A recent pic of me with my precious great niece Eva Rose, 

yes named after her great grandma

Sherry: Well, you have certainly succeeded in providing visual interest! And how wonderful to have a brand new little girl in your life!

What other things do you do when you are not writing and taking photos? What does a typical day look like?

Kathleen: A typical day starts about 5 am – I am up and on my elliptical exercise machine – that way I have done my daily exercise before I really wake up! Breakfast with my husband before he heads out the door to work,  I wake Mom and make sure she has everything she needs for the day – and then I am off to  work. I am assistant to the CEO of a small broadcasting company. It is fascinating work and filled with things I had no idea I had an aptitude for – spreadsheets and financial forecasts – always a new challenge to explore.

SUMMER PORCH

When at home, we enjoy many visits from family and friends – that seems to go along with living on the lake. Our screened porch is about 10X40 and filled with comfortable furniture – so it is the spot you will find me most weekends – writing, reading or just watching the hummingbirds.

Sherry: Your summer porch - and surroundings - are glorious! You have a book of poems, The Course of Our Seasons. [Kids, it is available here.]

Do you have plans for any other books? Maybe poems accompanied by your wonderful photography? (That would be stunning!)

Kathleen: I would like to do another book of poetry in the next year. I have the beginnings of a faerie tale on paper that I would like to see if it wants to be more. And as we talked about earlier, I think the Shack stories would make for a fun read for folks. So lots of plans – I will keep you posted.

Sherry: Memoir is my favorite kind of reading. I am so enjoying reading about your adventures with the shack on your blog. 

How did you find the world of online poets, what was your reaction when you found it and how has it impacted your writing?

Kathleen: dVerse Poets Pub was the first site I found. I began by reading different prompts and eavesdropping for a bit before I got nerve up enough to post anything. Brian Miller and Claudia Schoenfeld are so supportive of writers (wonderful interview with Claudia, by the way) that they made it easy to try. And its wonderful when people begin to comment and interact – something I had not experienced before outside my immediate family and a few friends.

I know that reading the many talented poets on this site and dVerse has made me a better writer. I continue to be amazed at the quality of writing on line – truly the unsung heroes of poetry. How can critics declare that poetry is dead when we all know it is alive and kicking!

Sherry: I love that! "The unsung heroes of poetry."  Cool. Do you have a favorite poet? What in his or her work calls to you? 

Kathleen: If I had to choose, ee cummings  is probably the poet I would consider to be the most influential in my writing. His whimsy and power are so apparent in each line – such grace in structure and word choice. I don’t try to emulate his work – but would love it if a little of his shine sparkled in my words.

Sherry: Is there anything else you’d like to share that I dont know you well enough to ask? What would your husband tell us about you? Your mom?

Kathleen: I am a faithful friend and a happy wife and daughter. And aunt to the most gorgeous and talented and brilliant of nieces and nephews. Can you tell I love my kids? :)

I can truly say that I am right where I want to be – living in my beloved Ozarks, surrounded by those people and things I love. And I can be hysterically funny.

Sherry: I gather that from your memoir! Anything you’d like to say to Poets United?

Kathleen: As I said earlier – remember you are the unsung heroes of poetry – your grace and wisdom, creativity and talent – shows the world the importance of this art form. Write on!

Sherry: Thanks, Kathleen, for a lovely visit. Now we know how beautiful the Ozarks are, and it is no wonder you love it.

Well, kids, what did I tell you? I am loathe to leave the beauty behind. I could likely sit on that screened porch for the rest of the summer quite happily. Do come back and see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!