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Milli Gilbaugh

A thousand and one uses for pumpkins

Food for Thought

Don’t worry, I’m not going to actually list that many ways to use pumpkins. There may not be that many– on the other hand, there may be considerably more, but I fall asleep about time my list gets up into the late teens. This time of year, when supermarket parking lots are overflowing with those big orange orbs and all their pink, white, green, red and brown cousins, and every farmers’ market and farmer’s child has a sign out front advertising bargain prices for them, I wonder just what happens to all of them, once Halloween and Thanksgiving are over and forgotten.

The last place you look

Food for Thought

When asked if I had any photos of my old friend Norma who died, I thought, with dismay, about the jumble of snapshots that clutter up my desk, the bottom drawer of my dresser, a box under my bed, that small wooden chest on the bookshelf, and an old suitcase in the furnace room. There are a few more places that might yield something, too, that tin box on the top shelf of the linen closet, and a fat envelope of assorted precious junk I once slipped under the place mats and tablecloths in the dining room hutch. It’d take me weeks to go through all that.

The world turns

Food for Thought

About three weeks ago, I woke up one morning to find my whole world had shifted over into fall. That process isn’t usually so abrupt, but this year it hit like a two-by-four on the side of my head. Wow. Summer was over. When I was a kid, the seasons somehow managed to creep up on me when I wasn’t paying much attention. For instance, spring seemed to linger until sometime around the Fourth of July, and winter didn’t set in until the first really serious snowfall– Christmas not withstanding.

Dancing and dreaming

food for thought

As I switched off yet another black and white rerun of Guy Lombardo and his Royal Canadians, I asked myself why I ended up watching that and Lawrence Welk on nearly every Saturday evening. The answer is obvious, I suppose. Unless you’re a big sports fan or get some sort of satisfaction from watching people (people who are even more out of shape than you are) tempt fate and coronaries by running up the side of a mountain, you haven’t much choice.

Room for improvement

Food for Thought

I belong to three organizations that are made up of some very talented and creative people. In all three instances, I feel flattered to be accepted as an equal and I have great respect for the opinions they share about the things we create, both individually and as a group. One group (the one with the broadest scope) consists of professional women writers, artists and composers of music. As a writer and artist, I feel pretty much at home among the others, even though their talents often seem unattainable compared to the things that I am able to come up with.

The more things change

Food for Thought

...the more they stay the same. Even though I was in junior high when people in Iowa first got television in their homes, I didn’t see much of it until I was in my early 20s. We lived in Knoxville. The closest broadcasting station was in Ames. Reception in Knoxville was poor and some people put up tall, expensive towers for their antennas and still had to often settle for shadowy pictures wavering through the snow and static-punctuated sound that faded in and out. Dad decreed that he would wait until reception was good enough that it would be a pleasure to watch rather than a frustration.