When

Wednesday, March 12, 2025 from 6:30-8:30pm (Usually the 2nd Wednesday of the month)

Where

In the comfort of your home or wherever you have an internet connection, via Zoom.

ONE TOO MANY

“When life seems one too many for you/Go and look at a cow,” is the opening line of an old poem found in the Old Farmer’s Almanac. (For an idea of the full poem "Ode to a Cow", the first verse is below.) Good advice. Whether it is a yellow dandelion peeking through the cracks in the sidewalk that you contemplate, the cooing of a dove perched on the branch of a tree, or even the calm presence of a cow chewing her cud, finding a way to re-set and re-new can be helpful in times of mad scramble. The scrambles, be they personal, relational or even societal, can and will continue while you weed the garden, bake a cake, or rummage through a basket of sea shells collected at the ocean’s edge.

 These thoughts can evoke personal stories, of course. But the old stories, traditional and literary, also contain those moments of stop, shift, renew.

 Got one? Bring it to StoryCrafters.

 Traditional or personal, original or literary. We’d love to hear your story.

Eight minutes or less please.

 Your story could be something new you’re developing, or an old favorite, or one that’s not at all related to the topic. Listeners as well as tellers are welcomed.

 We look forward to gathering with you for the stories.

If you are newly joining us, we ask that you take your first session to listen to our stories and to observe our process.

 Please RSVP and/or ask questions to both Lucinda and Regina; email addresses are below.  lsdelorimier@gmail.com     storytellerrress@aol.com

 Ode to a Cow

 When life seems one too many for you,

Go and look at a cow.

When the future’s black and the outlook blue,

Go and look at a cow.

For she does nothing but eat her food,

And sleep in the meadows entirely nude,

Refusing to fret or worry or brood

Because she doesn’t know how.

Whenever you’re feeling bothered and sore,

Go and look at a cow.

When everything else is a fearful bore,

Go and look at a cow.

Observe her gentle and placid air.

Her nonchalance and savoir faire,

Her absolute freedom from every care,

Her imperturbable brow.

So when you’re at the end of your wits,

Go and look at a cow.

Or when your nerves are frayed to bits,

And wrinkles furrow your brow;

She’ll merely moo in her gentle way,

Switching her rudder as if to say:

“Bother tomorrow! Let’s live today!”

Take the advice of a cow.

 —from the London News Chronicle, in

The 1936 Old Farmer’s Almanac