Simple Treasures: the Wisdom of Gladys Taber

The writings of Gladys Taber came into my life when I was quite young. My teen years were not the best, or the easiest for me, and so I used to read a lot of magazines on how to better my life, how to dress, etc. One day I came across a “Family Circle” Magazine which was running Taber’s column, “Butternut Wisdom”. I don’t remember if the magazine was free or if there was a small charge – ten cents or so - an amount I could afford on my very small file clerk’s salary. Each week I eagerly waited for the new issue and would carefully cut out the “Butternut Wisdom” column to paste in my Gladys Taber scrapbook. I would read and reread these columns every day.

Then one day, while browsing through a second-hand book store, I came across a book by Gladys Taber. A whole book of her ”Butternut Wisdom” columns. You can imagine my excitement as I quickly pulled the book down from the shelf and flipped through it. Oh the delight, the pleasure, the absolute joy of having found this treasure. Page after page of wonderful scraps of wisdom, happiness, sadness, and just pure life. The cost for this second-hand book was about $1.00 but to me it was worth a fortune. You can be sure I held the book tight as I ran to the cash register to buy it.

Since my own life was fairly empty at the time – no family to speak of - loneliness was a constant companion. Living in a rooming house, going to work each day, and coming home alone, the Gladys Taber columns and my new second-hand book became my family. Within Taber’s writing I could have the family unit I craved, the friends I wanted, and a warm house with a fireplace and smells of good cooking coming from the kitchen. Just imaging the smells brought back the memory of my own mother’s wonderful cooking when I was a child.

Soon I spent much of my free time scouting through second-hand book stores and, when I had the money, regular bookstores. I did manage to find several more books by Gladys Taber and they became my treasure trove. Not money, not gold, but my wealth was books by Gladys Taber.

Taber’s writing wasn’t the greatest I ever read, but it was probably the most memorable. Her writing was real and could provoke some great images as readers got up in the morning with her, cooked great meals with her, canned fruits and vegetables with her, and went out into the cold snow-filled mornings to feed the birds, check on the dogs, and to drink in the fresh air. Since I lived in California at the time, snow was something I rarely experienced so reading about cold snowy New England evenings in front of a fireplace provoked wonderful images of times gone by.

The books were not filled with confessions or secrets best not revealed. Taber revealed little about herself and her friend, Jill. She didn’t need to because the books were not read with a “gotcha” snicker, but rather were read by people who wanted to live as she lived but were prevented from doing so by life’s circumstances.

Through the years, my collection of Gladys Taber books increased. I concentrated mostly on her “Stillmeadow” books. Some of my favorites were: “Stillmeadow Daybook”; “Stillmeadow Cook Book”; “My Own Cook Book”; and “Especially Dogs”. But in essence I loved them all, each and every read-weathered page.

My favorite books were those about her dogs. “Especially Dogs” was a joy to read and I laughed and cried along with Taber as she described the ups and downs of raising litters of Cocker Spaniels. She never found a person who was worthy of owning one of her dogs – and I am sure, if she had had her way, none of them would ever have been sold.

Another book I loved was “Stillmeadow Album”. I enjoyed so much visually walking through her home, looking at her collection of Milk Glass. In fact, on one of the pages there was a photo of a Milk Glass spoon holder (I think that is what it was) with berries on it. Since I was always looking in antique shops for Milk Glass, a hobby that was inspired by Taber, imagine my great joy when I came across a spoon holder exactly like the one in the photo. It still sits proudly in my Ethan Allen Windsor Cabinet – a centerpiece in my homage to the Memory of Gladys Taber.

In her cookbooks she often would describe her cellar stairs and how she kept canned goods there that could be used to create a delicious lunch or dinner when friends dropped by unexpectedly. Many of the recipes were quite easy to make, and so I also started an emergency pantry, though I never seemed to have the number of unexpected guests drop in like Taber did. Taber was not a snob when it came to food. She was a good cook, but she used all types of ingredients for her meals – fresh, frozen, canned and dried. Whatever was available. I learned a great deal on how to combine assorted cans of tuna, beans, soup, and a warm loaf of bread into a great meal.

One time, several years ago when things were a bit tough financially, my husband and I invited a couple over for dinner. True to my “training” by Taber I made what I thought was a delicious Stroganoff. The ingredients were cut-up beef covered with flour and browned in a skillet, a can of cream of mushroom soup (undiluted), a can of mushrooms, a cup of sour cream, and salt/pepper as needed. This was served over cooked and kept-warm egg noodles and there was the usual side dishes of green beans, warm French bread, fruit, etc. Little did I know that the husband had not only gotten a ticket on the way to our house (he wasn’t wearing his seat belt) but he was also a food snob. He immediately asked me if I had used canned soup in the recipe and then went on to explain that one never used canned goods in any good recipe. Everything should be fresh. Needless to say, they were never again invited to our home for dinner, but then we were never invited over to their home for dinner. It seemed we were just too plebian in our food tastes.

And maybe that is why I loved Gladys Taber so much. She, too, was plebian in her tastes. Her cooking was good and hearty. Her home was warm and inviting. Her love of dogs was full and robust. She lived in a very old house with her best friend, and she welcomed others into her home with joy.

Gladys Taber gave me a home, albeit in my mind and emotions, when I had no home. She gave me a taste for good food, even if that food is simple and real. She taught me to laugh at myself and to enjoy my dogs even when they make a mess or tear up my best pair of shoes. She just taught me how to live, to love, and to be happy.

Gladys Taber, you will always have a place in my heart and on my bookshelves.

What is Your Journalng Style?

I am a great journaler – is there such a word? I am always writing, doodling, pasting, drawing, etc. in a journal. Not just one journal mind you, but several all at the same time.

I have a journal for my study of Tarot, I have a journal for my study of the Celtic World, I have a journal for my study of Leonardo da Vinci, I have journals for my writings about fairies, and one called “My Journal of Gratitude”. I could go on and on but I think you get the picture. Currently my daily journal/diary is a Moleskine Agenda Book.

Lately I have seen many, many books being published about “journaling”. The majority of them are on the subject of doing art along with journaling. This is a great thing and I own a large number of books on this subject, books I love to sit and read in the evenings. Some of these books are instructions on how to do a visual journal, some are just examples of personal journals, and others are reproductions of actual journals, such as Frida Kahlo’s and Kurt Cobain’s. I love them all.

However, the one problem I am having with this new direction in journaling is that there are many times when all I want to do is write something, not create something. (Yes I know that writing is an act of creating – but I think you know what I mean) And I believe that this new direction in journaling is putting some people off writing in journals because they don’t have the desire to “create” a journal. They just want to write, straight across the page, page after page, their feelings, thoughts, and desires.

When I want to read just a good journal or diary, I turn to the Diaries of Virginia Woolf. These books, and there are several volumes, are really a look into her world. She writes about dinners, food, feelings, her problems, and even something as mundane as purchasing a pair of shoes that are too big, but that was all that was available because of rationing due to World War I. She would stuff paper in the shoes which helped to keep them on. Through Woolf’s diaries you can see her breakdowns, her depressions, and her fear. You can visualize, through your own imagination, what it was like to live through the war, to have little to eat, to walk everywhere, to lose friends and family, and yet to be able to enjoy life and live through it all.

There is a big distinction between a written journal and an illustrated journal. Some of my favorite written journals, in addition to Virginia Woolf’s, are by Thomas Merton – (Merton always carried a small book with him in which he wrote every day. He then would transfer this information to a larger book, elaborating on what he originally wrote), Henri Nouwen, (especially “Sabbatical Journey – the Journal of His Final Year”), Anais Nin, John Keats, P. D. James (author of one of my favorite English Sleuths, Adam Dalgliesh), and many more. I own a wonderful facsimile ledger of F. Scott Fitzgerald in which he kept track of when he sent out his manuscripts, when they were published, and how much he was paid.

For illustrated journals I look at Frida Kahlo, Kurt Cobain, Danny Gregory, and many others.

If one has the time there is a lot to see and read on the internet. One of my favorite journal writers uses the name GeorgeR and his Filofax entries appear on Flicker. I don’t know exactly who he is, but I love his little book and the fact that he has listed over 900 books he still wants to read. “Notes from the Voodoo Café” is a great Blog and Rise writes almost every day.

What does one write in? There are so many possibilities. I use two sizes of Moleskines for my Solleone Books (my numbered volumes of thoughts); Filofax personal size ring binders for travel notes, prayer, and bible study; Franklin Covey and Daytimer classic size ring binders for meeting notes and ideas; along with Rhodia, Clairefontaine, Piccadilly, Levenger Circa Notebooks (a large one holds my Tarot notes), and many more different ones for notes on my readings and studies.

I just received a copy of Strathmore’s “Visual Journal” a delightful wirebound journal with 90lb. watercolor paper. Great for doing special watercolor drawings along with using colored pens for writing.

A wonderful artist I met many years ago, Richard Kirsten-Daiensai (A Seattle artist, and Zen Buddhist Priest who has spent several months each year for the past 49 years wandering through Japan and Korea http://www.kirstengallery.com/Daiensai/daiensai.htm ), had volumes of journals which he allowed me to read, and even gave me photocopies of pages out of them. In his journals he kept drawings, sayings, poems, notes, pictures cut out from magazines, and so on. From these journals he would get ideas for his paintings and poetry. I am blessed to own 10 or 12 of his paintings which I am able to enjoy each day of my life. And those photocopied pages are as precious to me as his paintings, for they give me an insight into his beliefs.

Journaling is a wonderful way to gather thoughts, to remember events, to realize the blessings and joys of living, and to experience the depths of sorrow. By reading the journals and diaries of others we learn a great deal about history, human nature, and the art of creativity. By leaving journals for our families to read we give them an insight into our own lives, feelings, thoughts and desires – things we often are unable to express or share with others. Had my own mother left a journal I might better understand her choices in life.

So, why not start journaling or keeping a diary. I believe that once you start you will also find the joy in expressing yourself, not just in writing but also, should you choose to do so, in creating a visual expression of yourself.

A Short Life Can Be A Creative Life

The book “Letters of John Keats” sits on a shelf in my bedroom and I read and reread passages from it almost every day. Keats only lived for 25 years (October 31, 1795 -February 23, 1821) yet he wrote some of the most beautiful poems and letters. During his short life his poetry was not well received by critics, but after his death he had a great influence on poets such as Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, (August 4, 1792 – July 8, 1822) another favorite of mine, lived to the age of 29, a short life, yet he was one of the major English Romantic Poets and is critically regarded among the finest lyric poets in the English Language.

In the field of music, Mozart (January 27, 1756 – December 5. 1791) lived to be only 35 and Chopin (March 1, 1810 – October 17, 1849) died at 39. Yet, even though they had such short lives, their music has lived on for centuries, and will probably continue to do so forever.

These are just four examples of how “A Short Life Can Be A Creative Life”, for the length of time on this earth has little correlation to what you do with your life. There are so many more men and women,in the past, present,and will be in the future, from whom we could learn. I bring these few creative artists to your attention to show that we can either spend our life whining about the hand we have been dealt, or we can go out into the world and make a difference.


My mother was one of the most creative people I have ever known, yet she only lived to be 36 – but what a busy and creative 36 years she had.

Born to Polish immigrants on a farm in Thorp, Wisconsin, my mother was one of 8 children, being the 6th child and the 4th girl in the family. She was the only girl to go to high school, and was on the Honor Roll each year.

She married at 17. I was born when she was 18 and my brother when she was 19. My brother was always very ill and she had to spend hours tending to his special needs. She, herself, was ill from the age of 25 until she died at 36, spending part of almost every year in the hospital.

With a sick son and her own illness, she could easily have retreated into a world of self-pity, but instead she grew and built a very creative and busy life for all of us.

First, she was an excellent seamstress and she made all of my clothing, plus redesigned outfits for herself from clothing she purchased at the Goodwill. Because of her talent for pattern marking, she was often asked to make clothing for others, especially by copying expensive dresses that department stores would have on display. This she did with great skill and many times it was difficult to tell the original from her copy.

Birthdays were special occasions in our neighborhood, especially if the Birthday Cake was one my mother made. Her cakes, and decorations, were very much desired and our doorbell would ring several times a week as women came to ask for one of her “special cakes”.

Between her expertise in creating special clothing and her skill in baking, she was also a Blue Bird Leader and directed many musical programs for my elementary school. One in particular I remember because I was in the program and my mother created all the long blue tulle dresses the girls wore, along with hoops covered in white crepe paper with blue flowers on them. My part in the program was to do acrobatics through the hoops. The music we moved to was “Alice Blue Gown” –

“In my sweet little Alice blue gown
When I first wandered down into town
I was both proud and shy, as I felt every eye
And in every shop window I primped passing by
Then in manner of fashion, I'd frown
And the world seemed to smile all around
'Til it wilted, I wore it, I'll always adore it
My sweet little Alice blue gown”

From the Broadway Musical "Irene" (1919)
(Music: Harry Tierney / Words: Joseph McCarthy)

If that were all she did, it would have been enough for a young woman dealing with her own illness, the illness of her son, and raising two children. But she had much more creativity inside her.

When I was somewhere between the ages of 8 and 12, by mother began to play the guitar, to sing, and to yodel. She put together a western band and the band was good enough to secure many weekend jobs in various Los Angeles locations. The band became quite popular as my mother wrote her own songs, sang them with the band, and could yodel better than anyone, outside of Roy Rogers. A skill that was quite uncommon, even then. She also created a beautiful black and white costume, black satin blouse, white skirt with fringe, and black and white cowboy boots. This ensemble went well with her black and white guitar.

She had her first serious surgery at the age of 25 when one of her kidneys was removed because it had been destroyed by TB. From that time on every year brought more and more serious health issues as new and, even sometimes experimental, drugs were used to try and stop the spreading TB infection.

Yet, even with all of the pain and suffering she had to undergo with these treatments, she continued to create, to sing, to grow as a woman - one of those early independent women we’ve read so much about. One of the last creations she made for me was a dress I wanted for a special high school program. It was modeled after a dress that Elizabeth Taylor wore in a movie, and it was spectacular.

When my mother was 33, and I was 15, my brother died of a brain tumor. I don’t think she ever really recovered from this tragedy. No parent ever does.

For the next few years she continued to fight her disease but it was obvious the disease was winning the battle. The last three years of her life she spent much of the time in the hospital. In fact she was even unable to attend my high school graduation because of being hospitalized.

My graduation took place when I was 16 and a year later she allowed me to obtain my own apartment. She knew her time was short and she didn’t want me to be left without the security of having my own place to live. She had prepared me well to live without her support or, for that matter, any family support. When I wanted to take drama, dancing, and art in high school, she made sure I took typing, shorthand, and business, therefore giving me the tools to get a full-time job at 16, passing every typing and shorthand test I was given.

Her final hospital stay was a difficult one. She spent three days in and out of a coma, suffering seizures as she slowly died from uremic poisoning. I spent those three days at her bedside as she lost the fight she had fought for so long.

I tell this story to show that it isn’t age and longevity that gives us a good life, but it’s what we do with the time we have on earth. We can do something and be creative in a few years or live a lifetime and spend it “wishing we had done something”.

The closing to this story is exactly what my mother would have wanted. On the day of her funeral, my step-father, my mother’s two best friends, and I were sitting in the back of the black limousine waiting for the procession to the cemetery. My step-father and a male friend were playing with the buttons on the door panels. Nothing seemed to be working. Just then the driver got into the limo and turned on the engine. Music came blasting out of the speakers, music my mother would have loved. The poor driver was twisting and turning all the knobs trying to turn it off as the limo slowly began to follow the hearse down the street. Finally he realized that someone in the back had been fooling with the knobs, and he managed to stop the blasting sound.

Can you imagine a black limousine following a hearse down the street, with music blaring out of it and all heads turning to see what was happening? My mother would have loved the stares her procession was getting, even in those circumstances.

Creativity Coaching - A Must for Small Business

"The way of the creative works through change and transformation, so that each thing receives its true nature and destiny and comes into permanent accord with the great harmony; this is what furthers and what perseveres." (from I Ching)

Creativity Coaching may sound as if it is only for those in creative and artistic endeavors, such as writing, acting, painting, etc. But in truth, every creative endeavor needs a good dose of “Creativity Coaching”.

Is there anything more creative than building a business? Is there any need greater than trying to be creative in building that business?

A good Creativity Coach can help business owners develop new ideas, new methods of doing things, new ways to make their business grow. Working with a good Creativity Coach can help to keep the business moving toward the top – and remember if you don’t move forward, you WILL move backward.

As a woman who has built several successful businesses. I know well the “need to do everything myself pitfall” that business owners fall into, because I was once there.

Just as an actor needs a director to do his/her best work, just as a football player needs a coach to play the best game, a business owner needs a coach to cheer him/her on and a director to help move him/her forward. This is where Creativity Coaching comes in.

A first-class Creativity Coach can change a mindset from “my business is my love, my hobby, my everything” to “my business is a good business and it will bring me a good life”.

Directors of museum and art galleries, directors of ballet and opera companies can benefit greatly by using the services of the Creativity Coach. Too often the director of a museum, a ballet company, an opera company, a theater group, and so on, is so busy being involved in fund-raising, development, and planning programs, that they often forget the important aspect of goals. What is needed here is a Creativity Coach that not only understands the creative side of things, but also the business side of things. Creativity Coaching can be done through person to person contact, through e-mails, through telephone contact, or however it works for the parties involved.

“I am powerful and successful. I live in total financial abundance. I have created a secure financial future. I deserve it!“ – Aurore Leigh Barrett

Personal Note: Having worked as a professional actress, and acting coach, I understand the actor’s temperament and have coached actors, writers and artists for many, many years and continue to coach for the artistic communities. I especially like to work with actors wanting to gain strength and insight into a character.

As a writer and poet, I have helped many writers organize their working and writing schedules through personal coaching sessions.