Summer is over and it’s back to school, but De Smet is no longer a one-room schoolhouse town. Laura’s mind has clearly moved on to other things because this new construction is glossed over shockingly quickly. Two stories!?! Bricks!?! What?!? Laura is focused on old friends and new plans. Turns out singing school is quite the couples’ evening.

Nellie Oleson has gone back East…the people of De Smet are onto her, and all the best men are taken, so she has gone to stay with relatives and mingle with better prospects. A new girl, Florence Wilkins, looks “left out and lonely and shy, as Laura used to feel.” I don’t know when our Laura ever really felt that way for very long. That one day when no one came to take her sleigh-riding? On the way to school at beginning of term, when she usually (re)made friends before the first bell?  Certainly she’s always been deeply uncomfortable with strangers, but she’s also always had the ability to quickly turn them to friends, as she does here. Florence is also preparing to teach school, and it is a credit to both of them that this makes them allies and not rivals. Florence is no Nellie Oleson.

Friday night. Almanzo and Barnum are right on time, and Laura is ready with brown poplin on. Almanzo warns that they have to leave a little early since Barnum gets skittish around crowds. Laura makes clear that she is with him. “When you think it is time, just leave, and I will come.” I’m always confused by the need to plan, because this is so clearly a date that I want them to be sitting together, but Clewett sorts them by voice and of course Laura’s place is with the sopranos. The first night of singing school involves a lot of theory and scales, all of which I would have thought Laura already knew, but the only thing she ever admits to expertise in is singing in rounds, and that not in this chapter. She enjoys herself, but is always aware of Almanzo, watching for a sign. [Girl, he’s been giving you signs for months now! So glad you’ve started paying attention!]

As they slip out the door, Almanzo says that she needs to get in the buggy first while he unties Barnum, and they both know she will probably have to hold him while he rears and runs. Laura is startled—but up for it—and takes the reins. Barnum rears, and they are off. She has to drive him around the church three times before he is willing to stop for Almanzo to get in, and each time, there is the open prairie before them. If Barnum decides to run away, there isn’t much that could stop him. But Laura trusts Almanzo, as he trusts her, and they both trust Barnum, and when at last Almanzo’s hands close on the lines ahead of Laura’s and slide back, she is glad to let him have the reins for a while. The feeling is mutual. And so it is decided.

Here is a man who needs a woman he can drive with. His horses trust her, so he can too, and she has shown at last that she’ll keep circling back till he is by her side. (He’s been doing the same for her for quite a while).  Here is a woman who needs to drive herself sometimes. He trusts her to do that, so she can trust him to let her. Much as she loves and honors Pa, a man like him would never pass her the reins, and now she is ready to share them with a man who already has.  

So there they are, shaking and numb, and they take the long way home, because this is their moment, and they want to make it last.

“I don’t know when I ever saw the stars so bright”.

“In the starlight, in the starlight, let us wander gay and free.”

He drops her off, and tells her what she knows, that he’ll be back Sunday, and she confirms what they both understand. “I will be ready.”

Pa and Ma are waiting up…this is probably as late as Laura’s ever stayed out, singing school was over hours ago, but those crazy kids drove on and on. Ma sighs with relief.

Pa says, “Does that devil horse of Wilder’s drive all right at night?” and Laura knows what he is asking. But it’s ok, and she has made up her mind. “He is really a gentle horse, and he stood so quietly when I got out. I like him.”

She intended to drive Barnum.

The chapter opens with talk of the Fourth of July.  The girls decide that a celebration at home sounds more fun than facing the crowds in town.  With requests for candy and firecrackers, it is decided that Ma and the girls will fix a celebration dinner and the Ingalls will enjoy the holiday at home.  It is obvious that Mary’s absence is weighing on the family and though nothing is said, the thought of a celebration without her makes everyone bit melancholy.

When Pa returns from town with treats for the holiday, he also brings news that Almanzo is breaking a new team, Barnum and Skip.  Laura should be ready to hop in the buggy if she wishes to go riding.  Of course, Ma is hesitant to allow her to go.  ”I do believe he wants to break your neck! And I hope he breaks his own, first”, these shocking words from Caroline give us a hint as to her concern for Laura as well as her disapproval of her daughter’s courting.  But Pa’s reassurance subdues Ma’s uncertainty to which Caroline responds, “Your Pa says it is safe, so it must be.” This statement is rather telling.    Although she may not agree, she takes Charles at his word.  We see her do this many times throughout the books, but, personally, I don’t think she does it out of some Victorian “he’s the man, so he says so” or that she thinks he’s more intelligent or “knows best”.  I think Caroline simply quietly decides which battles are worth a fight.   (Like settling in Dakota Territory for good, so the girls can attend school.)

When Almanzo drives up riding “this circus”, Ma again expresses her disapproval, but after circling the house a few times, Almanzo is able to get the team to slow enough for Laura to jump in.  Thus begins a routine that will be repeated for the next several weeks.  The Sunday afternoon buggy rides all through July and August are highlighted with the excitement of getting the horses to mind, learning to ride with the buggy top in place, and just enough danger to keep Laura interested.  She is confident in Almanzo’s abilities as a horseman, although several times to tries to make herself small on the seat next to him to be clear of his hands.  She does, however, yearn for the chance to drive.  The opportunity arrives one Sunday late in August when Almanzo arrives driving Barnum solo.  He explains that he is teaching him to drive single. Finally, when Laura offers to take the reins and give him a bit of a rest, Almanzo relents.  He coaches her, but it is easy to see that she needs little help.  Barnum responds to how she holds the reins.  “I believe his is really gentle.”  Although people in the town stare as they see her driving, she sees nothing but Barnum.  Laura has always has affection for other horses, but what she experiences in the buggy seat that day is a connection. This was yet another aspect that really made her understand and appreciate Almanzo.

Laura’s approval of Barnum and Skip, do not replace her affection for Prince and Lady.   More than once she longed for the calm, pleasant drives behind the Morgans and wondered aloud, “I am not criticizing these horses, I just wondered if anything is wrong with Prince and Lady.”  After six weeks of working to gentle the new team, Laura grows even more fond of the horses AND their master as evidenced by her quick response when Almanzo mentions that there will be a singing school it town. “I’d like to have you go with me, if you will.” “I would like to, very much.”

Let’s be honest girls, we all would!

Please comment if you’d like to switch. Thank you.

Sandra: This chapter is a game-changer. 

Erin: Laura’s hot stock is rising– 

Sandra: Little Bachelorette on the Prairie. 

Erin: — as evidenced by the nameless bachelors who suddenly want to take her out riding. Whatever, they don’t get names. As cool as Laura is able to remain, Almanzo is the only suitor who rates his very own name. 

Sandra: I wonder if this is before or after the kissing games referenced in Pioneer Girl? 

Erin: Laura’s skepticism over the prairie being turned to woodland is understandable, but also a bit chilling. Big foreshadowing here. 

Sandra: I know, right? The tree claim! Ominously: “He said that if trees would grow on those prairies, he thought they would have grown there naturally before now.” 

Erin: I can’t help but think that chokecherries represent our girl Nellie, who is now getting her comeuppance in a tiny shanty and (gasp!) a homestead with only oxen. 

Sandra: We should feel sorry for her the way Laura does, but we don’t. 

Erin: We’ve been carrying this resentment around for Laura. 

Sandra: Love how Laura says “the whole country seemed different to her.” It’s like when the guy takes you over to the next town in his spiffy, shiny Camaro with the faux-fur Playboy seatcovers. Oh, wait … 

Erin: Don’t think of Nellie. DON’T THINK OF NELLIE. 

Sandra: Whoa, Nellie. 

Erin: Laura’s cool demeanor is a sharp contrast to the omg-too-too-ness of Nellie, who is suddenly JUST CHARMED by everything ever.

Sandra: I kind of think Pa is glad for the chance to witness this meeting in the buggy. Good entertainment.

Erin: Oh, my kingdom for a glimpse into Almanzo’s take on all of this.

Sandra: “Is Laura still here?”

Erin: Nellie. You do not know who you are messing with. This is the girl who rocked the desk off its fasteners and who moved a pile of wood indoors by sheer dint of determination.

Sandra: “Almanzo seemed to be enjoying the drive.” Oh, men. Remember Roger and Elaine? 

Erin: Okay, I’m starting to feel bad for Nellie. Who knows what she endured in the intervening years? 

Sandra: Willie’s adolescence? Oh, look. Laura’s practicing the tried-and-true tactic of being the last chick out of the car. 

Erin: Well played, Mrs. Boast! She knows what’s up. 

Sandra: Both the Boasts are so on to her. 

Erin: At least Laura has a sense of humor about the whole thing. 

Sandra: So does Laura the writer: Nellie clutches Almanzo’s arm, “which he very much needed to use just then.” Snicker. 

Erin: OH SNAP! Laura’s feigned apology for making Almanzo go her way is priceless. 

Sandra: Meow! 

Erin: DOUBLE SNAP. Laura won’t go driving if Nellie’s part of the picture. Poor Almanzo. Trying to be nice has now ticked off both women.   

Sandra: Almanzo: “What the frick just happened?” 

Erin: Party fail, Manly. Don’t you know you should never assume a lass will go out with you next Sunday? 

Sandra: We interrupt this catfight to bring you a letter from Mary, who’s having so much fun in Iowa she’d rather summer there than on the clean Dakota prairies. It makes Ma a little woozy, and she even complains for a second, before remembering she’s Ma. 

Erin: The detail of the potatoes getting too brown is just perfect. It suggests Carrie’s hand suspended in mid-air as she waits to hear the horrible news about Mary. 

Sandra: Laura’s bummed mood continues all that Saturday night and into Sunday morning. Interesting: a phrase I’ve never noticed before. “As she rode to church in the wagon she said to herself that she would ride in a wagon all the rest of her life.” Is this the equivalent of resigning oneself to a lifetime in Mom’s minivan? 

Erin: Laura’s resignation is tempered with wild hope. You know it’s serious when you don’t take off your brown poplin. 

Sandra: Right you are! Almanzo is back! And the seat next to him is empty! He does a great job of playing the clueless man, as a clueless man. 

Erin: Oh, Almanzo. You were smacked down, and you know it. 

Sandra: Now we have regular Sunday drives, where the 19th-century horn beeping earns nary a grunt from Pa and a warning to be home on time from Ma. They pick bouquets of roses together. Romance! 

Erin: A buggy full of roses. Bow chicka bow bow. 

Sandra: Then Almanzo—how sweet of him to remember!—surprises our heroine with dear, sweet, merry Ida. The girls gather roses while they may, oohing and aahing over the twin lakes, and, of course, gossiping. Ida’s got her Elmer, and Cap has looked westward for new love, while Mary Power now likes the bank teller. Is it just as easy to laugh in the summertime? 

Erin: Do I detect a tiny bit of jealousy in Laura’s exclamation about Cap? 

Sandra: Oh, SNAP indeed. 

Erin: Oh, CAP? Hmm.  Oh yeah, the drive with Ida. Almanzo is tuned into Laura’s every sigh. Now they’re discussing…the wild thing. Okay, wild things and the pioneer instinct to shoot them dead. SWOON. 

Sandra: Secret eyes behind Ida’s oblivious (but merry) head! I can’t stand it. 

Erin: This secure robe-tucking is just too-too.

That project is now well under way, I’m happy to say. And I’m excited to share it. Come on over.

In other words, is traveling solo to LauraPalooza worth it?

I had been thinking about posting about my favorite part of LauraPalooza, and I hadn’t decided what to write about yet. But as I answered her, I knew. I know this will rhyme a bit with Sarah Sue’s answer, but there’s no other way to say it: the best part of LauraPalooza was the people. And the people started with the knowing.

The truth is, the emotional high started with the trip there. I don’t have much memory of my flight, but after landing in Minneapolis, I distinctly recall the organic co-op where I stopped for lunch (chicken curry sandwich!) and the salon where I partook of a mani-pedi all by myself (parents will get this). Then there are flashes of the ice cream social (moved indoors because it was in the high 90s, and humid), and then, next morning, that first-day-of-the-conference feel when you just see person after person’s expectant, smiling face, and you exchange knowing looks with each one of them because even if you’ve never seen them before in your life, you know. You’re all there for the same reason. You all know the significance of the phrase “brown poplin” and you all pronounce “Al-MAN-zo” the same way. You don’t say this, but you know it anyway.

It takes two to make a smile, and smiles by the pair were lighting up the ballroom. Fans were bonding over conversations in the lobby of the dorm, or after unexpected pairings at breakfast, in the hallway between sessions, or over the banquet tables for the sit-down meals.

Laura Ingalls Wilder herself joined six other LauraPalooza attendees at Pub 500 in Mankato, Minnesota

I knew less than 10 people in person before embarking on my trip. This photo, of seven of us attendees at Pub 500 in Mankato on Friday night, is the best indicator of how that changed when I arrived.

Before LauraPalooza, I had met exactly one person in this photo, and it wasn’t even in a Laura context. Whether I was singing Ben Folds songs or sharing beer recommendations or talking about our respective careers or sharing parenting commisseration or laughing over the previous night’s karaoke (and oh yes, there will be karaoke), by the end of the conference, I was able to call all of these people friends.

Attendees who showed up solo, tell us how it was. Were you lonely? Did you feel strange? Did you feel as if you did not belong?

These days, many teenage girls treat their mother’s fashion advice with disdain, even contempt; but turn the clock back to 19th century De Smet, and we find our always obedient and sensible Laura realizing that her Ma’s comments about her clothes were right. She really did need a new summer dress for best, but after surrendering her teaching mazuma to help buy the family organ, she was now strapped for cash.

So as quickly as you can say, “Extreme Makeover,” Laura hightails it to Miss Bell’s to ask about a job in her dress making and millinery store in return for yard goods. For Laura, it’s time to get serious about some fashionable threads and we’re not talking about everyday lawn fabric (it’s so 1877, anyway). We’re talking brown poplin…from Chicago no less.

Of course, Miss Bell is happy to give Laura a job and before the school term has ended, she has earned herself ten yards of fabric. With the poplin now in Ma’s capable sewing hands, Laura continues to work at Miss Bell’s so she can afford to pay for the perfect accessory…..a stylish new poke bonnet.

Meanwhile, the activities back at the homestead are taking on a veritable Better Homes and Gardens vibe, with Ma whipping up a new dress for Laura, and Pa constructing an extension to the claim shanty to accommodate the pending arrival of the family organ. You’ve gotta hand it to Charles. While he may have trudged the family through the harsh reality and (let’s face it) frequent heartache of America’s westward expansion, he really came through when stuff needed to be built. Yes, good one, Charles. But let’s face it. It’s the least he could do, given his gentle (shall we say) encouragement of Laura to cough up the cash for the organ.

Although I understand it was common for kids to help out their families back then, I always felt a bit annoyed with Charles for asking Laura to give such a large amount of money. After undertaking some online research, I now know that $75 during Laura’s teenage years would today be worth about $1600. I wonder how many teenagers in 2012 would happily donate that kind of money (if they had it), like Laura did?

When the new sitting room is finished, happiness abounds and interestingly, Ma makes repeated comments about not wanting to call the place a claim shanty any more.  Okay, Ma – we get it! Clearly she is very happy to have a real home finally taking shape.

Eventually, the new organ arrives in all its shiny, musical glory. The family admires its polished walnut scrolls, the crisp black and white keys and fancy levers and pedals. It seems only a minor detail that nobody in the room can play the organ, that is apart from Mary, who is living 400 miles away. Grace couldn’t care less about the organ and is more enamored by the stool that came with it. Sitting on the seat, she twirls herself around until she accidentally comes crashing down. Of course, no adult reader is surprised by this typical childhood behavior, although I personally don’t know if I would have been as tolerant about the incident as Pa was. You see, I’ve never twirled. Honest.

By the time Ma has finished sewing her new dress, Laura has her new, matching poke bonnet and decides to wear the ensemble to church. On Sunday morning, Carrie happily watches Laura get ready and while doing so, makes the comment, “You do have beautiful hair, Laura.” With this, we are immediately taken back to the Big Woods of Wisconsin….to the golden hair/brown hair incident, where a sensitive Laura slaps Mary for saying, “Aunt Lottie likes my hair best.  Golden hair is lots prettier than brown.” The spanking she received for slapping her older sister, coupled with Mary getting off scot-free meant that Laura carried a feeling of injustice about this childhood event most of her life.  Finally here, it seems she gets some come back through the flattering words of her younger sister.

Perhaps as a display of her growing maturity, Laura passes Carrie’s compliment on to her older sibling, stating that her hair wasn’t golden like Mary’s. Laura’s ultimate description of her own lovely tresses in the chapter shows her growing self confidence. So there, Mary!

The description of Laura’s new dress is elaborate. To be honest, I struggled to understand some of the more esoteric details during my first reading of THGY. Luckily though, I was able to see the (almost) real thing for myself at LauraPalooza in 2010, with the lovely Melanie Stringer wearing her own replica of Laura’s brown poplin.

Once Laura is dressed, the family collectively admire her new outfit. Of course, no moment like this is complete without a little of Ma’s wisdom. She tells Laura, “You look very nice, but remember pretty is as pretty does.” With that, the family leave for Sunday’s service.

On such a beautiful day, Laura doesn’t feel like going to church. Reverend Brown’s sermon seems longer and duller than usual. She wishes there could be more to enjoy than simply going to Church and back home again. After returning to the homestead, Laura decides to stay in her new clothes and finds herself wandering restlessly around the house. Is she secretly hoping for a visit from Manly?

It isn’t long before Laura sees a shiny new buggy dashing out on the road toward the Big Slough. It’s Manly at the reins. He bulls the rig to a stop at the Ingalls homestead and asks if she’d like to go on a buggy ride. It’s just as well she didn’t change her dress!

The new buggy is beautiful and Laura comments about the low, lazy-back seat, which is a new experience for her. It isn’t long before Almanzo pulls a move that is very open to interpretation. Perhaps he was trying to be helpful (it was a new type of seat after all), or maybe it was something more affectionate – but Almanzo putting his arm around the top of the buggy seat was not a welcome gesture for Laura. She responds by leaning forward and deliberately shaking the buggy whip, which makes the horses bolt and Manly moves his hands back to the reins.

Poor Manly! Irrespective of his motives for the “arm on the buggy seat” move, he was always a gentleman to Laura. Either way, he was just trying to be nice! Clearly, he was going to have his work cut out in winning Laura’s affections. Oh, but poor Laura! She is completely clueless when it comes to men. She is nervous and let’s face it, who wouldn’t blame her? Manly was more than a few years her senior.

Luckily, our always brave and strong, Manly perseveres. Following some gentle admonishment about the buggy whip, he asks Laura, “You’re independent, aren’t you?” Instead of being turned off by her positive response, he seems to appreciate her self reliance (which is clearly needed for any pioneer woman worth their salt) and starts to open up to her about his plans for the future.

Arriving back to the homestead at sunset, Laura shyly (and somewhat indirectly) agrees to another buggy ride next Sunday.

Oh boy, we know this is going to be good!

In Little House on the Prairie, Mrs. Scott tells Ma that she “can’t get those Minnesota massacres” out of her head. Ma makes a sharp sound, saying, “Little pitchers have big ears.” That tells Laura that whatever a massacre was, it was something that little girls shouldn’t know about.

The obvious issue, however, is that those “massacres” had everything to do with why Laura and her family were in Kansas, and later, able to homestead in Minnesota.

In 1862, Congress passed the Homestead Act, opening many territories formerly held by American Indians for settlement. In Minnesota, the Lakota and Dakota Indians–commonly, and derogatively, collectively called the Sioux– had earlier signed a treaty that ceded some of their lands to the U.S. government in exchange for money, food, and reservation lands. It’s important to note that while the Lakota and Dakota were and are related, they are not the same tribes.

In lieu of the gold promised for their lands, by 1862, many received luxury trade goods such as top hats, unsuitable for life on prairie and wood reservations. Many were angry, but particularly the Dakota. New white settlement had driven off much of the game that the Dakota relied on for protein, and a Dakota crop failure in 1861 had led to much hunger among the people. Their children, in particular, were suffering from vitamin deficiencies and malnutrition.

Their ways also were changing. New Indian agents in Minnesota were forcing many Dakota to exchange their established patterns of crop-raising and hunting for Euro-American ways, and the agents offered special privileges to those who made those changes. This made many of those who refused to change their ways angry; in many ways the Dakota war was a civil war among Dakota into which their white neighbors were drawn.

The young men formed soldier’s lodges at Shakopee, and began, in the summer of 1862, to agitate for war against the whites. Many Dakota disagreed with the move, especially those Christian Dakota from the northern tribes. Chief Little Crow, in talks with these young men, counseled patience, but in the end, he was persuaded to act as the chief of war. In Council, the Dakota present at Shakopee officially declared war. Some say Little Crow knew the war could not be won.

The Dakota were not a military organization. They did not have a structure such as the U.S. military, and individual warriors could choose to fight nor not; could choose to follow orders or not; could and did act on their own. When the annuity payment in August of 1862 failed to show up on time, Dakota warriors acted across south central Minnesota, routing the Little Sioux Agency and burning and pillaging their way through the homesteads of white settlers.

Witnesses to the destruction and brutality wrote of bodies hacked to pieces lying within steps of their homes; of dinner tables freshly laden with food that looked untouched, as settlers were startled from their meal times. White prisoners, mostly women and children, were taken, and later letters wrote of children being tortured, and women being raped by many Dakota in one evening.

When word reached Fort Ridgely that the Dakota had risen up against the white settlers, it was ill-prepared for any kind of assault. The fort’s young captain, who had the mumps, gathered up a detail to reinforce the Little Sioux Agency, despite being warned that he was riding into a trap.

He and his men were ambushed at Red Ferry. Most were killed.

The remaining soldiers at the fort began preparations for defense by creating barricades and breastworks. The fort had served as an artillery school, and it had cannon, but no walls. It was bare to the prairie around it.

Refugees from the country began pouring into the fort. Defenders expected that the Fort would be the next spot attacked, but fearing defeat, Little Crow went around the fort to attack the small German village of New Ulm.

New Ulm’s citizens, German farmers, had very few weapons, but they did have Jacob Nix Plat, a former soldier who urged all citizens behind hastily constructed barricades in a three-block area downtown. (Three buildings from this time survive.) Many were killed, and as the Dakota left the area, citizens of New Ulm buried their dead in the street and fled to Mankato.

In the end, more than 300 Dakota men, women and children were captured and marched to Fort Snelling, held responsible for the slaying of the white settlers. President Abraham Lincoln commuted the death sentences of all but 38 of the warriors being held. They were executed in the town square of Mankato on December 24, 1862. The remaining Dakota were driven out of Minnesota.

These events happened just five years before Laura was born, and certainly, the memory of the conflicts colored Caroline’s interactions with American Indians. These events also color relationships between whites and American Indians in Minnesota today, with conflict over reconciliation and memory in the commemoration of the tragedies of 1862.

Learn more about this and other related history this summer, at LauraPalooza 2012. Take a tour of the area by car with a map from the Greater Mankato Convention and Visitor’s Bureau, which conveniently points the way to major battle sites and interpretation. It’s well worth the effort.

After spending another cautious winter in town, Pa is offered the job of heading up the building of the Perry School and wants to move back to the claim as the school will be built not far from the claim. A little bit of me always admired that Ma could just up and move with just a day’s notice without as much as a whimper.

Laura is also offered a job teaching at the Perry School when it’s complete. That is, if she passes the teachers’ examinations, which she does, of course, with a Second Grade certificate. And then Pa gives her the happy news that he’s been saving and Laura finds out that she will be paid the richly sum of twenty-five dollars a month for three months.

Which brings on my favorite passage in the chapter:

Grace’s blue eyes were perfectly round. In solemn awe she said, “Laura will be rich.”

Grace doesn’t play a very big role in the books, but as the youngest in my own family I always felt a kinship with her.

So begins Laura’s second term teaching school. This one all gleaming and brand new with only three students the whole term. Laura felt guilty about earning so much money, but Pa assured her that the large schools were paying thirty dollars a month and those three children were entitled to the same schooling as a dozen would receive. Laura made sure to give them the very best instruction.

What a wonderful spring it was! Walking through the  fresh, sweet mornings with the scent of violets in the air, (a wonderful way to start and finish each work day!), Laura makes her way to the school each day.  Teaching her happy, good little students who were eager to learn and keeping up with her own studying  made for cheerful days.

When Pa asked what Laura planned to do with the money she would be earning, naturally Laura replied that she would give it to Ma and Pa. Pa proposes that they use it to buy an organ for when Mary comes home. Isn’t it wonderful that the family is in such a position that they can afford to make such a purchase?

Pa decides that this calls for a musical celebration…with just the fiddle for now.

Golden years are passing by,
Happy, happy golden years,
Passing on the wings of time,
These happy golden years.
Call them back as they go by,
Sweet their memories are,
Oh, improve them as they fly,
These happy golden years.

Laura’s heart ached as the music floated away and was gone in the spring night under the stars.

Dean Butler With Fans at LauraPalooza Ice Cream Social

As part of the build up to LauraPalooza we’re going to be presenting our favorite things about the conference or what we’re looking forward to most.

Although there wasn’t enough time to just visit, which has been corrected in this year’s schedule, my favorite thing about LauraPalooza was just talking with other fans. It was great to see old Laura friends, to finally put faces with the names of others, and to meet brand new Laura friends. It’s so wonderful to talk with people who get “it” and don’t think you’re strange for trying to track down the oddest things or exact facts about Laura’s life. Before LauraPalooza started it was only at odd and unexpected times I ran into Laura friends. Events like the Wilder Conference at the Hoover Presidential Library and the big De Smet event sponsored by South Dakota Humanities a few years ago are few and far between. To have a regular meeting place is a great boon to the Laura community. For example, the Pa’s Fiddle program that we’ve been talking about started as a conversation at LauraPalooza between Dean Butler and Dale Cockrell. Great things can happen when Laura friends come together and after all “We’re all good friends together.”

As a slight adjustment of the future conference schedule has been made to more closely align with major anniversary dates coming up,  there won’t be another LauraPalooza conference until 2015. I hope as many as possible of you will attend this time. See you there.  Remember, registration is now open!

Sarah S. Uthoff blogs at TrundleBed Tales; look for her on Twitter and YouTube and Blog Talk Radio
Laura Ingalls Wilder Legacy and Research Association, Vice-President and Membership Chair