Letter from Birdland--An Elaborate Sham

It’s a sunny day in Birdland, but I need to get something off my chest. I’m tired of the secrecy, the deception, the juggling of half-truths, the panic I get when I realize I’ve left the house without logging out of my email account. I can finally come clean: Although I like to think I’m truthful and sincere, I’ve been lying to my husband for weeks—no, months. Despite the fallout, I have to say, I am relieved to make this confession. And I’ve learned that duplicity will jangle your nerves and suck your soul.

I’ll admit it. I schemed and planned to orchestrate an elaborate sham: a surprise visit from most of Michael’s family to coincide with his art opening at Parkland. Of course, keeping the element of surprise forced me to be less-than-frank at times, and commit outright fraud at others. But it was worth it to see the look on Michael’s face when his brother and sister and their families arrived at our house, and again, when he encountered his mother when we arrived at the gallery. They came from Texas and the east coast, and we appreciate their making the long trek to the Midwest. However, the past few weeks have been stressful. On top of the stress of dishonesty, there is nothing like pending visitors to help you see your home from a rare perspective, for better or for worse.

Birdland is a work in progress. Parts of my home feel finished and polished. Other parts, to put it kindly, have a lot of potential. When you live in a place that’s under constant construction, you begin to adjust your concept of normalcy. I mean, doesn’t everyone have bare drywall in the dining room? I think sometimes we begin to superimpose our vision onto the reality. Apply paint with imaginary brushes. At other times we get bogged down in discouragement—thinking our work will never be finished. Visitors can supply a context—both for what work we have yet to do, and how far we’ve come.

I decided that the theme of this visit would be to focus on the enjoyment of simple, Midwestern things. I had a lot of time to think about how to show off some gems of my hometown, hidden in plain sight. I made a non-comprehensive list of “attractions” to fill our weekend. Things I generally take for granted, like the Broken Oak Gallery, tucked in the woods, within walking distance of Birdland; Bryant Cottage, an easy drive in Bement; the picnic area, trails, and the river at Lodge Park; the bell tower, boating, botanical gardens, museum, and covered bridge at Lake of the Woods. We’d eat simple food, nothing fancy. Sandwiches, casseroles, pickled eggs with beets, coleslaw, maybe a jello mold—the stuff of my childhood potlucks and church dinners. If I had dreams of becoming some kind of baking hero, and froze the dough of a various assortment of goodies, I had some disastrous results. Instead of a star baker, I find I’m the clown of croissants, and I have to balance my desire to impress my relatives with a reminder of the point of this visit. To relax, catch up, share an interest in each others’ lives; to see how much the kids have grown; to hug; to snap a few photos; to share a piece of our home; to plan the next visit.

The family is large enough that we gather in pods, several conversations going on at a time. I excuse myself to the back of the house to try to make my deadline, and pause in my typing, listening with contentment to the rise and fall of heartfelt exchange. Maybe we’ll plan an excursion to the drive in tonight, or maybe just to see the buffalo down the road, where mullein is in bloom, like a yellow rosette on a Midwestern saguaro cactus.
Walk in Beauty; Work in Peace; Blessed Be.

Mary Lucille Hays lives in Birdland and most of the time makes her deadline. She is interested in issues of community, ecology, and her own back yard. She is so pleased that she pulled off this deception that brought Michael’s relatives up to see his art. The show will be at the Parkland Art Gallery through August 11. Mary can be reached at birdland@planetsave.org.