Share a winter wander with me

And you too will see

How grand your body can be

7:57 J 1.9 degrees ooh. I still need to chop more wood tonight.

For the first time in 46 years of chainsawing with Dad, the original, the master Wood Elf, today I witnessed one thing that can go wrong...

Temporarily Immortal from the collection: Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly

Temporarily immortal

               Momentarily pregnant...


Until We Remember from the collection: Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly

I'm back inside now and feeling much better,

Refreshed and awakened by the sound of the cold.

I shoveled some snow; split some oak and choke cherry;

Then hit my tall son 'tween shoulders quite squarely...

I want to shop at a place that advertises: “Nothing is on sale. We price fairly.”


My Movie a first novel
by Lani Richardson

"When the light hits me just right and brings a smile to your lips, tell me
…and let me taste it."   

Vivien would gaze out the windows…the doors…the skylights…ever hopeful, ever watchful for the slightest glimpse of Lancelot’s distinctive shape and coloring in the skies above. So many shadows would swoop into view and her eyes would hungrily follow the soaring movement, only to reveal an imposter or an illusion.

Impressions of J.R. Sullivan's Hometown Holiday, 2014 

...when the three heavenly voices of Megan McDonough, Holland Zander and Marcella Rose Sciotto, together as one rose up from behind Miles Nielsen's, adding a rich layer of sonic texture...

My Children Are Home from the collection: Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly

Okay, it’s 5:15…and 24.9 degrees out…and blowin’ like a ship-tossing storm…out on the ocean…

Kids are about to leave school…

Wonder how long I’ll have to worry

… Before I see their beautiful faces?


6:15 35 degrees out; 63 in

7:28 35 degrees out; 69 in

Well gee, the GOP sweeps the elections – so we get an out-of-touch millionaire as governor and a scare-tactic, ...

Jada’s story is horrifying

            and deeper still is the terror I feel

                        …as the mother of two boys.

And Hilary, I’m sorry: I’m still upset about your message with this…


            Mothers of sons (and sisters of brothers)

This rape culture cannot be changed by legislators! This is not about rules: this is about humanity.

Yes, it takes a village, the female voice of the village.

How in the hell can any son grow and not know that this is wrong?

Look your son in the eye, NOW! ...

September Symphony from the collection Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly
First published in Market Street Press October 2014

...coming up on the rise that skirts a hill called Molly...
the greens and browns and splashes of daisy in cymbals crashing..
sky blue is the backdrop, white poofs here and there like piccolos and flutes...

Chill from a Soccer Hill from the collection: Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly
First published in Market Street Press, November 2014  

…it was 5:13 when I’d found my perch
Up on the slant of the tall windy hill
I’ve just got to say it; it’s just got to be said:
Today is my favorite, most favoritist day every time, 

When soccer invites me out under the sky

Today Within the Pine Cathedral from the collection: Wild Cucumbers Atop a Hill Called Molly

Today within the Pine Cathedral

            A chime did sound up high

            Three butterflies danced, hopping from thistle to sky

…today within the Pine Cathedral

Pure yellow, as big as my hand, like fairies they prance

Pure purple, as tall as a bear, like conductors they direct...

Last night I crawled in to bed warm.

The room thermometer read 70 degrees. It was so nice. I can’t even really describe how nice it was. And this morning I woke up and got out of bed warm. The room thermometer read 64 degrees. I cannot express how nice that was.


Whenever I tell people about living in this house,

Wood: a fulfilling job; a satisfying thing to do all day. It sure does wipe us out though.


12:01 PM – yikes – I best get out of here – April Verch is tonight!


It wasn’t until much later that I realized that this was just one facet of the power of music. Live music has the power to unite and, if only for that moment, the power to expose the inner connectedness, the webs that connect us all to each other and to our environment and even the cosmos. We are all one. Peace through music.




Saturday June 4, 2011
Now it's 4:26. I'm actually sitting at my new desk in my new office on the 2nd floor of the Emerson House with my book open in front of me. I'm sitting on a chair that isn't my actual desk chair and I'm taking advantage of the daylight coming through the large windows – I don't actually have any lamps yet.
We're still learning the electric potential and limitations of this gorgeous space – when it was built, the need for power to run the things we need today was not an issue. So, as with any renovated building, outlets are added and electric fuse boxes updated. Sometimes an outlet works and sometimes it doesn't. Hmmm...
The iPod is connected and tunes are filling the spaces between the boxes and chairs. Our boys are noodling about. We probably have about 10 to 15 minutes remaining on their patience meters.
After doing the hard part – picking up my huge and beautiful desk and 3 sturdy work tables for the analogue equipment – from Salvage Too and getting all up to the 2nd floor with the freight elevator, (a mechanical beast that is fantastic but requires a tall, strong person to work it), we left Josh to plug things in and Duncan, Connor and I went down the street to Subway to pick up some lunch/dinner. We returned and all 4 of us sat around my huge and beautiful desk to replace the calories we'd just burned. Ahhh, I think I was in heaven, even if only for a moment, I can envision it more and more now.
Let me just say another thing about the elevators at Emerson House. There is one that is powered. It is one of the old fashioned types that has a cage like door that must be closed from the inside in order for the elevator motor to work and it just barely fits one cart and one person. It clunks loudly, as if agitated by being asked to work, pauses and then clunks some more as the cobs and gears engage and carry the little box up to the 2nd floor. And then there is the freight elevator. Wow, this is one darned impressive piece of mechanical engineering. It's very large: we put our not disassembled futon couch in and had room to fit a second one, (had we brought it), as well as some chairs and boxes and there was still room to spare. Nonetheless, I do not recommend filling this elevator as full as the space allows because it's human powered. I've learned that the best way to get this freight elevator to the 2nd floor is to have not one but two tall, strong people, preferably a pair macho enough to need to challenge eachother. My amazing and remarkable husband not only qualifies as tall and strong, but also has proven himself worthy for the freight elevator challenge; however, he would gladly yield to the younger challenger with more to prove.

EmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmersonEmerson   Your photo could be HERE!

Wow – I finally found a corner with enough light to write. I just relieved Sonya at the Windsor Elementary Pajama Jam → an actual dance → in the hollow gym/cafeteria with the latest pop beats blaring,: distorted with indistinguishable song tracks and undecipherable lyrics. As the rhythms shoot out of speakers to ricochet between ceiling, floor and enclosing walls and stampede through the corridors, I feel short of breath as the screaming beat box captures my heartbeat: resistance is futile.
My eyes are still fuzzy from the recent dual volcanic eruptions: the smoke trails circling. The fire is gone but the smoke lingers...the same could be said about other recent events → something about the finality of the June 20 deadline to vacate the premises: our home at 306 Theodore Street. The feeling seems similar to waking up in your tent in a field soggy and cold with dew; emerging into a world with smoke drifting from the remains of smoldering campfires scattered evidence of a delightful weekend spent with music and friends at a festival under the the sun illuminates and the reality beckons → it's time to pack's Monday tomorrow...but not until tomorrow: today we will prepare...Monday will catch us neither unsuspecting nor unwilling. Monday will find us not only refreshed but also recharged. Yes Monday will find us happy to greet her. Perhaps we will find Monday even before she seeks us.
I had to pause and watch Connor group dance Thriller. Smiles fill me. Now they're all singing: “Oh, oh, oh it's magic! Never believe it's not so”. And the DJ is our neighbor. I will miss our neighborhood.
What is the meaning of life? =
            Why do I do what I do? =
                        Peace through music.
It is a rare moment alone here on a rainy gray Saturday after a parental pride filled morning at soccer. Carrie Elkin: it is finally turned up to its peak intensity. My molecules stretch and reach and space opens inside my chest to ease the knots...ah...and oh my, the lilacs...
And now Danny Schmidt.
One of the most rewarding and amazing facets of my life is knowing the fascinating artists: humans with real relationships and real joy and real sorrow and real life and the artist reveals this reality in its naked vulnerability: truth → an interpretive word, a flexible and by necessity, transient concept → one that must flow to ensure its integrity, must react to real hope, to real life.
To sing and dance and ponder the magic woven in this relationship between these two beautiful humans, Carrie and Danny, shines the light on the magic woven in my relationships and in all relationships.
                        Peace through music.
The stories behind the songs: they are our stories too. They plead for personal, individual, flexible, inner interpretation. All they ask is for the freedom to roam – to shift and change to fit the place where understanding waits.
I believe music does this for us all: it shines light on the magic of life. I also believe different music speaks to different people. It remains very important to me that Charlotte's Web present top caliber artists of many genres. The doors that music can open are opened for me by the singer-songwriter; for others it's jazz and still others, blues. For some it's reggae and others it's guitar. To be present and bear witness when doors are opened by music is my raison d'être and my joie de vivre.
I believe helping others open doors makes me a better human because it makes my community a better place which makes me a better mom and wife and daughter and neighbor: I add to the world and the world adds to me.
And now Ellis, who awakens my wonder and reminds me to be.
I'm spending the afternoon at peace through music, contentedly attending to laundry and dishes and general family/home maintenance.
My husband is filming the Rockford Dance Company school performances of “Oh, the Places You'll Go” on the very stage where the announcement was made that there had been an accident...that fateful early spring evening in 1972 when the audience at Boylan High School was told that the show was cancelled and the name Charlotte's Web was chosen. It represented the web we depend on to catch us when we fall. The grief that united those who knew Charlotte Powers was soothed with music; it was opened and released so the healing could go on. And the music wove the Web strong to catch us and help us climb.
                        Peace through music. 

Afterburn…that’s what I’m calling it…

I see the dream so clearly at this moment and the world makes sense. Energized and alive, feeling that I know what to do to ignite the remaining fuel for a rocket boost

The music of Danny Schmidt does something…I see open doors and windows, tunnels and pathways; I feel connections and synchronicities, harmonies and truths;


Somehow, I’ve not found time to keep up with my blog. Today I feel like attempting a catch-up session. I will practice brevity…

First, I must make a fresh pot of coffee – organic, shade grown, fair trade Guatemalan from JustGoods, of course

Cheers! Lani.

Peace through music.

“The trick is to combine your waking rational abilities with the infinite possibilities of your dreams; because, if you can do that, you can do anything.” - Unknown


I think this might just be a repeat...sorry...


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Bill Miller Folsom Prison Blues at Charlotte's Web