May 1st, Wednesday

Who named the outer most (dwarf) planet? The answer may surprise you. The founder of Mother’s Day and an American frontierswoman are birthday-twins.

The date is May 1st, Wednesday, and today I’m coming to you from Lima, Peru. 

On this day in 1930, the Lowell Observatory released the name for “Planet X.” The Lowell staff voted on three possible names and the vote was unanimous: the new planet would be called “Pluto.”

The name came to the team rather by accident. An ocean away from the Arizona observatory, in the United Kingdom was a young girl spoke to her grandfather about Roman mythology. She suggested the new plant should be named “Pluto,” the Roman god of the underworld.  Her grandfather thought it was an excellent idea, and passed along the name to an astronomy professor in Oxford. The astronomy professor wired the idea to his peers in the US. When the name was announced, the grandfather gave his granddaughter, named Venetia, £5 as a reward.

Today is the birthday of Anna Jarvis, the founder of Mother’s Day. Anna was always close with her mother. As a young girl, she declared to her Sunday-school class after being particularly moved by the lesson that “I hope and pray that someone, sometime, will found a memorial mothers’ day commemorating her for the matchless service she renders to humanity in every field of life. She is entitled to it.”

Mother’s Day was always an idea niggling at the back of Anna’s mind, but it wasn’t until her own mother passed away that she buckled down and began a campaign for it, seeing traction in 1908 Anna felt that white carnations captured a mother’s essence best. Of the ivory carnation she said: “Its whiteness is to symbolize the truth, purity and broad-charity of mother love; its fragrance, her memory, and her prayers. The carnation does not drop its petals, but hugs them to its heart as it dies, and so, too, mothers hug their children to their hearts, their mother love never dying.”

For those of you wondering, Mother’s Day this year is May 12th. Plenty of time to plan a sentiment for your own mom and mom-like ladies in your life.

And today is the birthday of Calamity Jane, frontierswoman and teller of tall tales. [She’s a bit of a mythical figure and the stories she told about herself are thought to be heavily embellished.] She was born to dysfunctional parents as Martha Jane, the eldest of six kids. On the family’s way through the Western frontier, her mother died en route, and just a year later he father passed away. Martha Jane at the age of 14 was left to care for her five younger siblings. She packed up the family covered wagon and took her siblings to Piedmont Wyoming to find employment.

She was considered very pretty in her youth with deep dark-eyes and dark hair. But with a temper and drinking problem, it’s possible that the nickname evolved from men warning each other that to pursue her was to “court calamity.”

 

The Painted Ceiling
Amy Lowell

My Grandpapa lives in a wonderful house
  With a great many windows and doors,
There are stairs that go up, and stairs that go down,
  And such beautiful, slippery floors.
 
But of all of the rooms, even mother’s and mine,
  And the bookroom, and parlour and all,
I like the green dining-room so much the best
  Because of its ceiling and wall.
 
Right over your head is a funny round hole
  With apples and pears falling through;
There’s a big bunch of grapes all purply and sweet,
  And melons and pineapples too.
 
They tumble and tumble, but never come down
  Though I’ve stood underneath a long while
With my mouth open wide, for I always have hoped
  Just a cherry would drop from the pile.
 
No matter how early I run there to look
  It has always begun to fall through;
And one night when at bedtime I crept in to see,
  It was falling by candle-light too.
 
I am sure they are magical fruits, and each one
  Makes you hear things, or see things, or go
Forever invisible; but it’s no use,
   And of course I shall just never know.
 
For the ladder’s too heavy to lift, and the chairs
  Are not nearly so tall as I need.
I’ve given up hope, and I feel I shall die
  Without having accomplished the deed.
 
It’s a little bit sad, when you seem very near
  To adventures and things of that sort,
Which nearly begin, and then don’t; and you know
  It is only because you are short.

Thank you for listening. I’m your host Virginia Combs wishing you a good morning, a better day, and a lovely evening.