Travels With Becky

Stories, poems and pies all plentiful

The launch of “Live Free and Eat Pie” filled town hall in Northwood last night.  We were spilling out into the driveway, and some people had to park at  St. Joseph’s next door. The Friends of the Library had put out a call for pies, and I’d written a few notes to my friends with a cry for pie,  worried there wouldn’t be enough. People like pie, and would be disappointed if they didn’t get a slice of their favorite.  

As it turns out, the pie was plentiful. Even people from out of town brought pies, unasked. Maybe because they heard there would be a pie auction  to benefit the library following the reading. Sure enough, the library made $375 from the auction. One very large apple pie sold for $20! My husband, John, bought a banana cream for $7. We ate half of it as soon as we got home, and the rest for breakfast this morning. 

The store-bought pies didn’t bring in as much money as the homemade, naturally. Neil English, our bearded and very personable auctioneer, put the pressure on the crowd to open their wallets, and they did!

I told some stories and read from “Live Free and Eat Pie,” then invited stories and poems from the crowd. Grace Mattern read a beautiful poem about Helen Johnson’s crocuses that come up every spring, even though Helen died a few years ago. Northwood misses Helen, a farmer, who wore overalls every day of her adult life, far as I can tell. Our affection for her and her crocuses was  clear from the heartfelt response to Grace’s poem. Lindsay Coombs from Deerfield recited her poem by heart and so did Neil English, who waxed eloquent on the subject of toilets and a trip to the home center to inquire about buying one on the occasion of finally getting indoor plumbing. Joann Bailey told a funny story about her grandfather. I picked on Jean Lane about the time she made a cow-pie cake for Dr. Mihachik, frosted and everything. 

Rebecca Rule shares a laugh with her audience at the Northwood Town Hall Friday night.  The New England humorist was speaking at the launch party of her new book, "Live Free and Eat Pie: A Storyteller's Guide to New Hampshire." (Kathleen Bailey photo)

All in all, the many stories and poems seemed just right for the occasion. What I thought would be fifteen minutes of open mike, turned into a half-hour plus, but nobody seemed to mind, though the hall was pretty hot with all of us packed in there. Kevin Madison from the fire department counted heads a couple of times to make sure we weren’t exceeding capacity. Which we weren’t. Otherwise he would have had to shut us down, in which case we’d probably have held the festivities on the lawn. Which would have been fine except the mosquitos were kind of thick. I know because I was at a table outside signing books for an hour and I got chewed alive.

Kathy Bailey from the Union Leader was there interviewing people for an article. And Dawn deAngelis and crew from the Channel 11, NHPTV show, NH Crossroads, filmed the whole thing.  I think the show’s going to air on July 27 at 7:30, but I could be wrong.  

I'm a professional liar...

At the Nottingham Senior Picnic, sponsored by Nottingham Recreation, the turnout was good, probably thirty or more people. The hot dogs and burgers were delicious, and there were plenty of salads and desserts.  We ate under a tent in the  town hall yard. It was hot, but not too bad in the shade. I told stories after lunch. Most everybody knew me already, but while standing in line for food, a stranger asked me what I did for work.  I said, “I’m a professional liar.” He said, “Are you in the House or the Senate?”  

Hello and welcome to my blog!

Just so you know, I’m tickled to have a blog.  Not sure how it works, but the nice folks at Islandport Press say, “Go for it!”  So here we go. 

I’m Becky Rule aka Rebecca  Rule aka the Moose of Humor.  Years ago, New Hampshire Magazine named me “The Muse of Humor,” so I latched on to that.  It sounded important.  When an emcee with a lisp introduced me as “The Moose of Humor,” I latched onto that -- even better!

Here’s the deal.  Through luck and a touch of blarney from the Irish side of the family, I’ve become a storyteller. Didn’t mean to. Just happened over the last decade or so.  Gradually.  I travel around the state of New Hampshire, sometimes sneaking over the border in to Maine, Vermont or – yikes! - Massachusetts, telling stories, mostly funny ones, at libraries, historical societies, Old Home Day, wherever people assemble and stories are welcome.  Sure enough, in the storytelling tradition, one leads to another. I tell stories; people tell me stories.  And I remember them.  I write them in my little black book to tell in the next town.  In this way I never run out of stories.

Here’s the other deal.  There are few things more joyous than a roomful of people who live in the same small town laughing together.  No sweeter words than:  “That reminds me of a story!"

A lot of these stories found their way into my new book, Live Free and Eat Pie: A Storyteller’s Guide to New Hampshire.  For every fact about the state (state bird, purple finch; state fruit, pumpkin), there’s a story.  These stories may or may not be true (I call them true-ish), but they shed a certain light on what makes New Hampshire unique.  And it is.  And its folks are.  Maybe it’s the water or the soil or the rocks that make the soil hard to work; maybe it’s the long winters (November through March, if we’re lucky), but something gets into New Hampshire folks (even those who haven’t lived here all their lives), and gives us a certain wry way of looking at the world.  Sure it’s July now, but July is just seven months short of January, so don’t get too cocky. 

In this blog, I’ll recount my travels. Let you know where I’m going (in case you want to meet up with me – I’d love to see you!), and where I’ve been, with a story or two gathered in those places.  Last week, for example, I spent time at my camp on Donnell Pond in Franklin, Maine.  It was nice.  I don’t mind the heat and humidity if there’s a pond to jump into to cool off.  The story going around the pond concerned Sandy, who heard somebody walking around on her porch.  “Come on in,” she called.  “Door’s open.” Nobody came in, but she heard more footsteps, so she called again:  “Come on in! Door’s open.”   Nothing. She got up from the kitchen table and went to the door.   It was a bear.  Not a huge one. Medium-sized.  She was just as glad he hadn’t accepted her invitation.

This week I’m back home in Northwood, N.H., where it’s hot and sticky and there’s no pond 30 yards from the front door to jump into.  Oh, well.  On Wednesday, I’m heading up to the Mount Washington Hotel for a confab with my friend Frumie Selchen from the Arts Alliance of Northern New Hampshire and some other nice folks.  It’s a grand hotel in Bretton Woods - and I mean GRAND.  One of the few grand hotels left in the state. You know that show on the Sci-Fi Channel, Ghost Hunters? Plumbers (by day) go around (by night) looking for ghosts using fancy electronic equipment. They did a show on the Mount Washington Hotel, or as they say in the North Country, “the Wash.”  I believe they found a few ghosts. But, I’m not worried.  With all those tourists running around, the ghosts will be laying low.

On Friday, I’ll be home in Northwood, where the very kind Friends of the Chesley Library have agreed to sponsor the launch of my new book, the aforementioned, Live Free and Eat Pie: A Storyteller’s Guide to New Hampshire.  It’s kind of a fundraiser.  The nice folks at Islandport Press are going to donate a percentage of book sales to the library.  And there will be pie.  We’ll eat pie, but if any are left, we’ll auction them off - and the money will go to the Friends.  I know a lot of people from town who are bringing pies and they’re good cooks, so if you like pie and stories, show up at the Northwood Town Hall on Route 4 at 7 p.m., Friday, July 11. If you buy a book, I’ll sign it for free.

See you there!