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Friday, July 10, 2020

Letters

The Old Shanty Lady

May 21, 2020

To the editor:
Thank you for the time and effort, you created a lovely little story about Big Bunny practically out of thin air. I can now forgive you for the “Desperate Housewife” award. Call me ever sensitive, my mother always did. It's just that I take pride in my only marriage, to my art.
I made a clean break from NYC seven years ago. I was desperate to get out. I spent my entire adult life in the same little walk up in Hell's Kitchen as the luxury highrises went up around us. They say it takes seven years to settle into a place and this is it for me, my house in Bethel. For better or worse.
My first year making a fool of myself in the Hortonville Talent Show was before your time as judge. I played the Old Shanty Lady, singing and dancing with a laundry basket full of watercolors. Jane, our fearless leader and musical director, had spent the previous day stringing a clothesline across the back of the stage. I hung out my “wash” of small paintings of my corner of the universe, Dr. Duggan and 17B, and sort of sang to the tune of “Old Shanty Town”.
It went:
I moved to Lil's yellow house on 17B
Speed limit 55, zooming truck's 70!
I put up a wood fence, it helped stopped the shake.
Out the side door, Dr. Duggan, take the dogs to the lake.
My first winter in Bethel, my feet nearly froze.
But then came the Spring time, I still had all my toes.
I won't move cause I'm tough!
It's my home. I got too much stuff!
In Lil's yellow house on 17B.
What I remember is the look on people's faces. Huh? Who? What? The? Please, let me know.


Art by Cynthia
Bethel




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