ARMED WITH INDIANA!

For those of us from (as F. Scott Fitzgerald called it) the Middle West, the smallest & most middle of the Old Middle West is Indiana. It’s where my mother’s people settled, up from the South & West from Ireland. Somehow or another, they all sort of melded together–Vincennes, Lafayette, Indianapolis, and Knightstown. These were the centers of my maternal line, and the latter where I spend the second part of my years of youth.

The first thing that impressed me upon moving to Indiana (having partially grown up in Kansas–another arm, another day, another blog?) was, beneath the snow, the grass somehow managed to remain green, really deep green, all year round. In Kansas, it would turn brown.

The other earth-like memory, was our house in Knightstown had Lily of the Valley*, growing next to the foundation on the shaded West side. Found out years later, it made a good cooling place for beer, acting as a sort of natural insulation for the stuff. But that’s a secret, one of those things that even your mother would never figure out. Unless, she was doing it too, and never told us about it?

No need to be up in arms about Indiana.  Wear with pride, cherish the memories, and in case you are inclined to forget your map, always remember where you came from...

No need to be up in arms about Indiana. Wear with pride, cherish the memories, and in case you are inclined to forget your map, always remember where you came from…

So, instead of wearing your heart on your sleeve, you can, if you like, wear Indiana on your arm, if you can’t get it out of your mind. The town represented in this depiction is Bloomington, home to Indiana University.

*Mae West sang a song called WILLIE OF THE VALLEY, but it wasn’t the same thing. She had quite a sense of the absurd, and used it to great advantage. Yes, she had been to England, and knew what it meant.

  • Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 415 other followers