February 2, 2015

We're in the Pink

Well we've flipped this year's calendar to the shortest month of the year and one that I wish was twice as long.  And why is that, you might ask?  Do I truly love the bone chilling, longish winter-some days?  Or the lack of sunshine that typically accompanies this second month of the year?  Or the inevitable snow storms that wend their way this time of year?  

February is an intriguing month, with merely 28 days to its number,  yet an added leap day every four years.  (I have always been intrigued by those few born on the 29th of the month who are relegated to celebrating their birthday every four years). And did you know that it is the only month of the year that can pass without a single full moon?  This is all intriguing and odd to me.  

It also sports the Superbowl, President's Day, American Heart Month, Flag Day, National Wear Red Day, Candlemas, National Bird Feeding Month, and Black History Month.

But mostly I like February because it is filled with plenty of reds and pinks and flowers, and love. Call me silly but those are some of my favorite things.  And though not a child of this month, or even of the age of Aquarius, two of my siblings do share birthdays during this abbreviated little month. My sister, the firstborn in our clan, came to be early in the month.  Twelve years later my baby brother was born on a glorious day: none other than Valentine's Day itself.

I remember well that day for it hearkens back to the tender time when one would slave to weeks on that all-important task of creating a Valentine's box for the school celebration of my favorite holiday.  I would spend days and weeks dreaming up the perfect receptacle in which all of those delightful little cards would be placed during our classroom party.  Then when the day finally arrived, we would tote our creations to school and place them on the counter along the windows of our classroom.

For many of us, the anticipation of that day was enough to drive me forward to cutting out red and pink hearts and gluing them onto a carefully crafted shoe box.  That day meant an hour or two reserved respite from the drag of regular school lessons.  There was candy, cards, and games.  And we all got mail in our little post office boxes on that special day! Every one of us.  Opening those cards, one by one later after school was such a treat for me.   I'll bet I could find one or two of those Valentines from my classmates if I looked long enough in the shoe boxes of storage somewhere in the house.  

But one particular Valentine's day, in 1967, I received an even greater delight - a little brother who arrived on that very date.  It was the best Valentine's gift ever!  To this day I delight in finding a special birthday card reserved for those lucky few who share their day of birth with my favorite holiday and sending it to him.  Thankfully there are usually one or two greeting cards to choose from.  

It all adds up to a time of unforgettable memories. It also gives me an excuse to wear the red and pink clothing in my wardrobe for the entire month's length.  

Now you see why I yearn for a few more days to be tacked on to the calender when February rolls around.  

January 26, 2015

Weather or Whether Not

In these parts the topic of weather is oh so important.  In fact, without the ever changing climes that we so often experience here on the prairie, I fear that most people would turn into anti-social introverts who have lost the ability to interact on the simplest level with their fellow humans.

Recent reminiscences of the famed blizzard of 1975 have cropped up in honor of the 40-year anniversary of that storm that raged for days, stranded countless travelers, country folk and city dwellers.  As with any milestone occurrence, most everyone has some recollection of that (and others like it) storm if you were around at the time.

I recall that, as the storm raged in my neighborhood, our family housed my friend who lived across the street whose parents were unable to make it home as well as a good family friend and much loved artist in these parts, Bob Artley.  

Artley worked with my dad at the newspaper at the time and couldn't make the drive to his home in Adrian so took up refuge in our house.  He used one of my sketch books to draw pictures of us all and encouraged us to draw some of our own.  I recently came across that very same book while going through papers at mom and dad's house last weekend and the memories flooded back like the snow on a north wind gale.  

One of the sketches pictured three figures pushing a little Volkswagen beetle through the snow blowing on a horizontal angle.  They soon abandoned that task and left the bug to fend for itself while the storm raged.  When it had all settled, we found the little car completely filled with hard packed snow.

I can't say that the entire experience was all that painful.  We had plenty to eat, lots to do and there was never a dull moment whatsoever.  I know that mom read aloud to us from a favorite book, and there were jig saw puzzles involved and good conversation flowed freely.  I guess you could say that I have some pretty fair memories of that particular storm, and many others like it.  And I, to this day, love a good ol' blizzard.

But there have been winters, such as this one, that provide very little in the area of snowbound entertainment.  Murray County native, Oscar Swan, who in 1987 was touted as the self proclaimed "weatherman in Balaton", recalled that the winter of 1931 was particularly light on the snow front, though a terrific snow storm came up on election day, November 8, 1932 when Franklin Roosevelt was elected President.

The winter of 1936 was a particularly rough one in these parts, according to Swan.  "Real winter set in on January 20th and all through February," he said.  "For 41 days it never got above zero; 38 below was the lowest and 101 inches of snow fell that winter."

The State had rotary snow blowers at that time, Swan noted, and the snow was so deep on highway 14 east of Balaton that they had men on top of the drifts breaking it down so the plow could make it through.  

It stormed and drifted so bad for weeks all cars and trucks were at a stand still," Swan went on.  "Duluth did not have any snow that winter and the state sent down two plows to help."

In essence, life without daily commentary and speculate about the weather would be rather droll and drab.  After all, doesn't everyone fancy themselves weather prognosticators?   I guess it's anyone's guess what tomorrow's weather will be like - rain or sun, snow or sleet.  One thing's for certain, there's not a one of us who can change the outcome so we  just have to learn to grin and bear it. 

And talk about it.

January 12, 2015

Lists, Lists, Lists...

Lists.  A few years back David Letterman made popular the proverbial "top ten" list and since then the trend has been on a steady growth pattern.  And they're everywhere these days it would seem.  If you're anywhere near the Internet it's guaranteed you just can't avoid a list or two. Everyone it would seem, has an opinion on the topmost, bestest things in life and they want you to know it.  Really? Who made these people the authority on all things good, is all I have to say.

Personally I enjoy perusing the various compilations, such as, "The Top 100 books to read before you die", or "The 10 things never to buy again.....ever," or "The friendliest places to live."  I just can't stop myself from reading these lists, even though I realize that it's just the opinion of the one who composed the list in the first place.  I mean, how can you really put a value on friendliness, or the worthiness of a book, after all.  It's just not logical.

I've been a big fan of list making for most of my life, but never before has  my list making  been so vital to my very every day existence!   Generally my lists have to do with what groceries to pick up at the store, or what vital things to pack when I am planning a trip.  It's just that, despite good intentions, when I walk into a store sans list, every bit of common sense just seems to evaporate from my very being and I'm left with an empty slate and often times, wandering the aisles idling hoping for a moment of clarity where the list of necessities and needs are involved.

Lately, besides my grocery list,  I've resolved to start writing down the things I want to accomplish:   places I want to go, and goals that I want to attain things I want to do.  Okay, it's my "bucket list" so to speak though I do believe with a little time I will come up with a more suitable tag than that much overused term.

So, along those lines, here's my top ten list for January 2015.  Be that as it may, it's my own list, mind you and  I encourage you to create your very own list for the new year.  Then see how many things you can check off your list before year end.

10.  Learn something new every single day.  What a way to increase your brain power and by year end you'll have 365 new bits of information in your brain.

9.  Read.  Read the newspaper, a book, the comics, the telephone book, the road signs.  But do read every day.  

8.  Smile and say something nice to someone - pay that kindness forward and just wait for its return.

7.  Go somewhere you've never been before.  Open your eyes and look around - take the back road to somewhere and I guarantee you'll be surprised by what you see.

6.  Do something that you've always wanted to do.  Don't let regret follow you and drag you down because it's just not worth it the effort.

5.  Throw caution to the wind just one time and let yourself lose control.  Do it in the privacy of your own walls or let loose among friends.  

4.  Plant a tree.  Someone will appreciate your effort fifty years from now in the soothing shade and rustle of leaves in the winds that it will provide.

3.  Adopt a pet and provide it with gentle, loving care and a home.  

2.  Give someone the right of way on a busy street - let them in while in a heavy traffic jam.  While you're at it, add a nice little wave and smile as you do.  

1.  Try to find more things to smile and laugh about than you grumble and sneer at in a single day.  Believe me, what you give will be equal to what you get. Every time.  Guaranteed.

January 5, 2015

Traditions are Front and Center This Time of Year.

Well the big bang is over, so to speak.  The holiday that most pine and prepare and premeditate over has come and gone. Perhaps more than anything else,  traditions abound and are front and center this time of year it would seem.  

While there are the standard mainstays such as figgy pudding, egg nog, and possibly even fruit cake, families the world over tend to devise their very own rites and rituals, some of which can be rather unique.   Whatever the case, it's somehow comforting to come together and revisit said traditions every year.

Holidays in my family, as in most others, have most often been a time to come together and celebrate.  Through the years there was however, nary a fruitcake in sight to my recollection.  Yet the ever present popcorn cake has always been a family favorite.  In fact, often my mom sometimes makes a separate cake for one or two lucky recipients.  Needless to say the treat doesn't last long in our house.

Christmas Eve is the time for Dad's annual reading of the beloved "Night Before Christmas", with its embellishments and flourishes that make it uniquely ours.  (..."With a little old driver so lively and quick, I knew in a minute it must be Uncle Dick!....")  Every year we chortle at the lines we know so well and expect to hear. Sometimes there are even new delightful phrases to surprise us.  I'm sure that dad spends most of the few weeks before Christmas rehearsing,  rewriting  and personalizing the beloved text to our delight.   Next year the torch may well be handed to my brother who will carry on the beloved literary custom with honor.  And that's what makes it a tradition.

New Year's, for me, means the making of the fudge.  For some reason this delectable treat never appears any other time of the year in my kitchen and perhaps that is what makes it so special. It signals the start of a brand new year and does so in fine order.

 I've also developed the habit of baking my New Year's cutout cookies, usually in the shape of snowflakes, which is most often rather appropriate for the time of year hen a snowstorm can befall us at any given day.  This allows me to catch up after the hectic hub bub of holiday rush when cookie making was simply out of the question, and my snowflake cookies are a welcome sign prosperity for the new year.

Once it's all over, there are some who rush to remove the holiday clutter and are eager to return to a sense of decorum around the house.  Me, well let's just say that I'm not usually in a big hurry to put it all away.  The holidays come only once a year and why not let the residual cheer linger for a bit longer.  That's my motto, my belief, my credo.  So as January wains, I'll be digging out those ornament boxes and packing up the array of trees and lights that have adorned the house since early November.  

But to  each to their own.  It's important to establish and to pass on these traditions and customs from one generation to the next, and to to instill on our children the importance of observing these rituals as well as creating their own.  That's what it's all about anyway.

So if you do one thing this year, make it memorable.  And do it with pride.  Because in doing so, you may just establish a tradition to be observed and enjoyed for generations to come.

December 22, 2014

There's Magic in the Air

He is mystery and magic, compassion and caring, giving and graciousness.  His legend is celebrated the world over in various fashion year after year at Christmas time and through the ages his gleam has never tarnished nor appeal diminished.   Those of us who believe in magic, whatever our age, celebrate annually the joy of the season, the birth of the Christ child, and the magic of St. Nicholas.

The man, by any other name, would be as sweet, (to borrow Shakespeare's famous line from Romeo and Juliet).  Indeed, he carries many different monikers including Father Christmas in the United Kingdom, Pere Noel in France, Christ Kind in Germany, Sinterklaas in Holland and Kris Kringle here in the United States.  

Whatever his name and however he visits the children around the world, the legend born of St. Nicholas, a  Bishop who lived in the fourth century AD, lives on in infamy.  Story has it that Nicholas, a very kind and wealthy man, was known for helping the poor and giving secret gifts to people in need.  

The custom of hanging a stocking in hopes of it being filled with a secret gift by St. Nicholas, originated from the story that, seeing that a rather poor family did not have enough money to provide a dowry for the eldest of three daughters, the benevolent man climbed upon the housetop and secretly dropped a bag of gold down the chimney where it feel into a stocking that had been hung there to dry.  Nicholas, upon being discovered by the father, begged him not to reveal his secret for he didn't wish to bring attention to himself.  The word got out as it is apt to do, and from then on it was believed that whenever someone received a secret gift, it was from Nicholas.

In 1823 the famous poem "A Visit from St. Nicholas", or "T'was the Night before Christmas", was published by Clement C. Moore, describing eight reindeer and a lively, rotund St. Nicholas.  The reindeer were given names and further immortalized in the story, "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer", written by Robert L. May for a Montgomery Ward as a holiday give away, in 1939.  

Santa Claus has remained immortal for hundreds of years and isn't likely to disappear any time soon.  (At least in my home, that is.)  There will always be  magic in the air and a twinkle in the sky on Christmas Eve.  And isn't that what Christmas is all about?  

Merry Christmas to one and all!!

Consider Santa Claus at work...

He must clamber in and out of his precariously perched sleigh, 

To march steadily along the icy slops of rooftops.

He must tiptoe on carpets to cause sleeping dogs no distress, 

Read notes, fill stockings, and empty his pack,

Reflected in the cat's glowing eyes.

Santa will kiss sweaty curly-tops,

Gently bless a cast or bandage, and dry tears,

Fetch a hanky or a very small drink of water,

Or sprinkle sand into sleepy eyes.

He may need to tuck in a blanket,

Plug in a night-light, button a button,

Or zip up a zipper.

He may turn off a dripping faucet,

Or a burner on the stove,

Straighten a rug, draw the drapes,

Or smother an ember at the fireplace.

Then there is warm milk or col cocoa with which to deal,

And cookie crumbs to brush away.

Santa Claus must be a Grampa!

Written by JoAn Bakker

December 15, 2014

Last Minute Shopping Joys & Woes

Here we are, down to the wire as they would say.   I'm not sure what that means but it sounds pretty serious.  I won't even remind you of the dwindling number of shopping days until Christmas because you are either a) one of those souls whose shopping list is pretty much a sheet full of scratched out, checked off notations long before the eve of "Black Friday", or b) are of the group of those that just reminding you that the final 240 hours and soon to be 216 hours and then to be 192 hours is now ticking away can set you into a panic that is akin to realizing that today is your mother's birthday and you have completely forgotten that fact.

The trick to being a last minute shopper is to make it appear that you have spent days and weeks in thoughtful contemplation, pouring over gift catalogs  for new and interesting items, perusing store aisles for that one perfect item, not settling for just ho-hum in the quest to match the one true gift with every person on your gift list.

For those of you who might not be quite on their toes about Christmas gift shopping,  there are still plenty of nice gifts out there for you to pick up for all of those special people on your list (and aren't they all special if they're on your list, after all?)  

My advice? Think practical.  In this case, there's not much time to go any other direction.   And don't cut corners on the presentation - gift wrap your present in the most elegant fashion possible.  If you can't manage that yourself then hire the job out.  It will make all the difference in the world and show that you do, indeed, truly care.

Here are my top suggestions for last minute Christmas gifts.  

1)  A couple new strings of Christmas lights - because surely the ones that were put up on Thanksgiving have already lost half of their illumination, (I suspect they're set on a timer to destruct after "x" number of days.)  They'll appreciate your thoughtfulness and I'll bet by buying them this near to Christmas you'll even get them at a great price.

2)  A calendar.  You should make sure it is for the new year (one time I purchased a calendar at a mall kiosk at what I thought was a great sales price....turns out it was a current year closeout not the new year's model).  It's the gift that keeps on giving day after day after day....

3)  Sign your loved one up for a class or new activity.  The possibilities here are endless.  There's yoga, oil painting, karate, sky diving, bungee jumping, bull riding, etc.  You get the picture.  If it's something you'd love to do, why not share that passion with someone else.  

4)  Chocolate.  Because it always fits.

5)  A "get-out-of-jail-free" card.  You never know when this might come in handy.  Include contact information to reach you in case of emergency, a pre-paid phone card (because chances are a quarter won't cut it if you're incarcerated these days), and the number of your favorite bail bond person.

6)  Time.  Not much explanation needed here.  Perhaps the most precious gift you can give someone.

7)  A smile and kind word.  Again, you can just about afford to give everyone person you ever meet this gift.  And it means so much.  Hey, and returns are always welcome when you give a smile.

8)  Scotch tape because, hey, it's not pretty when you run out of tape during a late night wrapping session and they will appreciate the fact that you are thinking ahead for them in preparation for next year.

9)  A book.  Any book.  One with pictures or one without.  Doesn't matter. Better yet, get them a library card - it's free and it keeps giving.....for a lifetime.

10)  A notebook.  And a pen.  Because at some point we all just have to start making that "bucket list" and unless you write these things down, well it's not truly a list.  

December 8, 2014

No Batteries Needed

Since I'm a grandmother in training, I have of late been paying attention to little ones who I encounter and how, in particular, they are amused by we bigger ones.  I have but five months to brush up on these tactics so I of course welcome any suggestions from other grandmothers on how to best prepare for the big event.

It's been quite some, you know, since I've been in the baby tending business.  And though one might say that just like riding a bicycle, it will all come back to me, I have my doubts.....I'm that much older now than in those baby rearing days and will I know just what to do to keep the little tot in joyful stitches rather than a stream of tears?

Well, I can tell you one thing:  my sisters and brother and I had a dad who was filled with imaginative, playful tactics and wasn't afraid to get on the floor with us and make a general fool of himself.  He did that, you know, because of the joyful gladness of hearing our peels of laughter and giggles of gladness.

Well, maybe he was just giving our mother a break from full-time, stay at home motherhood.  It's a Dad's job to do that after all.

Whatever the case, Dad let us romp upon  him, after he'd get into his "wrestling" clothes, and ride him like a bucking bronc in a rodeo.  He usually managed to buck us off after the 8 second rule but we'd come back even stronger, determined to tame the beast.

Another favorite Dad game was the chair he fashioned from his outstretched hand.  Every time we'd go to sit down on the chair it would break and we would collapse in fits of glee.  Then Dad would make a deal of fixing the broken chair with nails and glue and invite us to sit upon the throne, only to shatter it once again.  His horsey leg was apt to break as well.

Dad also possessed what might be called "monkey toes".  Strangely, he could manipulate those digits to pick objects up or to deliver a brutal pinch that we all tried desperately to avoid.  To this day I don't believe I've ever met anyone with such manual dexterity and control of one's toes.

Games played with Dad also included tossing and catching the baseball, drop kicking and passing the pig skin, and whipping a Frisbee dexterously through the air.  And learning the fine arts of the game of chess.  We may have been the youngest in our neighborhood to take to that difficult game of strategy.

Whatever the case, Dad always seemed to make time to provide us with plenty of homemade entertainment.  I guess that shouldn't be too hard for me when the time comes to be a grandmother, considering the training I had once upon a time when I was but a little tot.  

But if all else fails, I will start practicing my silly faces.  For what kid can resist laughing at a grown-up who is making a complete fool of oneself?  Who cares, because it's all about having fun and making that little one smile, isn't it?

Yes, and that is something that I think I can definitely manage.

December 1, 2014

Tracks Lead to Discovery

It snowed last week in the north country and the landscape was covered with an expanse of white carpet where once was frozen ground littered with random dried leaves.

As I made my way out the door and down the driveway to check the mailbox, I came across the usual array of various tracks on the pristine walkway:  mouse, rabbit, cat, dog, deer, cougar - all recognizable and familiar to me.  

The willy-nilly scratches in the snow led me to believe that there is a good deal of activity that goes on when we think the world has gone to sleep at dark-fall.

Then my eyes lit on a set of tracks that at once startled and baffled my senses.  At least a foot and half in length, the tracks were a sight to behold.  Could it, I wondered, be the famed Yeti of legend, or perhaps the Abominable Snowman, or yet even Sasquatch in these northern climes?  In our neighborhood??  Just the mere notion gave me goose bumps.

The tracks jutted out in a full ninety degree angle and the stride was mammoth in size.  Whoever, WHAT-ever made these tracks, I supposed, was a force to be reckoned.  

I followed the tracks, like any wise, curiosity seeker would do, along the path to the street and to the mailbox.  Where they abruptly ended.  And then they circled around and retreated homeward toward the house.  

It was then that I came to realize that the owner of these foot prints had walked right up the driveway and into the garage, further into the back door of the house (I deduced this by the puddling paths of debris that were left by the gigantic pedactic paddles on the garage floor.

Should I have been alarmed?  I was at first, until I realized that the foot prints had been made by none other than my own dad on his early morning trek to the mail box.  Dad's gait is recognizable for its jutting, somewhat birdlike manner. (Albeit a gigantic, possibly emu-like creature).   It is one that I, upon being likened to at times, have striven rigidly to avoid.  

Quickly I dashed back to the driveway to examine my own foot prints to the mailbox that morning.  Have I?  Did I?  Do I walk just like my father?  With relief I noticed that, near the birdlike indentations in the snow, was a set of completely parallel prints next to them.  Mine.

I have inherited many traits from my father, but apparently the bird walk is not one of them.  Okay, that's a relief, I must admit. 

And I am happy to report than Sasquatch is not in the neighborhood.

November 17, 2014

Memories Make a Home

"Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor....." says the country song made popular in recent years by the group Lady Antebellum.  I thought I understood those words but not until recently did I truly get their meaning.

You see, in a lifetime there are a whole lot of memories that are gathered and collected, then tucked away neatly in a safe place.  Sometimes you take them out but mostly they are kept in place and not thought much about.

Until faced with them, that is.  The reality of it is, life sometimes presents changes that we just cannot avoid and when facing those circumstances, the memories come pouring out like a hundred-year flood.

Packing up my parent's belongings recently as they plan a move soon from their home of nearly thirty years to smaller apartment living has presented its share of memorable remembrances.  

Such as, I cannot help but remember the same place, exact day and year that I was in the position of unpacking all of these same things and putting them lovingly into place in the home they had just purchased and moved into.  It was so far from any home I remembered, but putting those well-known items into shelves and onto the walls just seemed to make that new environment their own.

And it did.

As the packing days went on, things continued to surface that I hadn't seen for too many years to even contemplate.  Memories.  We found the blueprints to the first (and only) house that they had built when I was but an infant.  That was the first and dearest home that I ever knew and to this day remains indelibly in my heart.

And mom presented me with a box of cards sent to me.  Birthday, Valentine's Day and other special events.  Letters written to me by my grandmother.  Letters I had written to my parents when I was away from them at camp.  She saved all of them all of these years.  Remarkable.

The rose-colored casserole dish that Mom always used to make my favorite hot dish (hamburger and noodles).  The yardstick that we measured our growth.  Stemware that held the first taste of wine on momentous Thanksgiving occasions when we were treated as adults and allowed a small sip of wine with our meal (though we still were seated at the kids' table, I might add).  

Scrapbooks filled with clippings of every sort, all lovingly preserved by our mother.  Files and folders filled with all manner of interesting memorabilia saved and carefully preserved by Dad for one reason or another.  Family history, legacies to be cherished.

These things all surfaced as we prepared for the move that would take them from their home to a new home.   

With them will travel many of these treasures as they settle into their new surroundings. But some of them will be passed on to us, their children, and cherished for our lifetime as well.   

Soon, though, the new place will be home once again, because a home is what you make it and what you put into it.  It is not a building, or a space or a memory.  Home is a place, anywhere, that you have around you in the space in which you live, the things that you love most.

So I will try to remember that as we leave behind a shell of an empty space that used to be home.  Because looking forward there will be a new home that will be filled with warmth, laughter and the occasional tear.  

But mostly, it will be filled with love and new memories.

November 10, 2014

Pet Ownership Can Be the Cat's Meow

Owning a pet can be a life altering experience indeed.  In taking on the care of an animal, one must commit to the good and bad, the ups and downs and the yin and yang so to speak.

Make no mistake, the benefits far outweigh the downsides, I'm here to attest.  But, just as there are wide arrays of colors of the rainbow and flavors of ice cream, so too are pet animals and their behavior.

Take, for example, my sister, who several years ago adopted a jet black feline friend whom she dubbed "Lacy".  Lacy was, once upon a time in her youth the kind of cat that would tolerate all manner of attention, graciously living up to her name.  

However, unlike fine wine, Lacy's capacity for decent social interaction diminished as the years unfolded.  She gradually took to lurking under furniture and staking out spots to be on the look out for any possible social intrusions to her peaceful existence.  

Once a confused visitor to their home remarked, after walking past the living room armoire, that something was leaking!  Turns out the disturbance was none other than Lacy who was exuding one of her menacing hissing growls at the innocent, unsuspecting passerby.

The other day, Lacy and her owner paid a visit to the veterinary office because the feline seemed to be suffering some sort of ailment.  Here's what happened, in her caregiver's words:

"Lacy was a terror and the vet never even got close to examining her.  We chased her around the room alternatively trying to throw a towel over her. Really, you would think a vet would have some tricks to retrieve her!  He gave her some pills to take twice a day, telling me that I could wrap them in a meaty 'treat' which of course Lacy won't like."

She went on to relate that Lacy was perfectly calm when returning home (of course), but when confronted with the nasty new food, she tried to bury it.  Go figure!!

As our pets age, their ailments often mirror those of their aging owners.  Mental confusion sometimes sets in as the days wane.  I once had a lovely Springer Spaniel named Annie who was beloved by all who knew her.  Annie never wandered past her yard and lived a long, lovely existence.   

As she reached the end of her life she began to wander into neighboring garages and even tried to visit the day care center at the church across the street.  She became confused and unsure in her old age yet still remained a much loved and cherished pet.  But alas, Annie one day disappeared and was never found.  I contend that wonderful dog did that to spare her owners the agony of saying "good-bye".  

Such a wise dog she was and I still mourn her loss and the fact that I never got to be with her as she took her final breath.  

Another of my sisters and her husband, after losing their beloved "Dukie", a sheep herding dog, found miraculously a younger, nearly identical version of their pet and dubbed him "Little Dukie".  

Little Dukie is a charming, energetic dog, with perky ears and a friendly demeanor.  As his breed often does, Dukie naturally tends to herd anything in sight, so when he is allowed out of doors in the yard, there is a good deal of running in circles involved.

The other day, says my sister, Dukie got a bit out of hand and ram-rodded Fritzie, the couple's aged other dog who was innocently taking in the fresh out-of-door weather.  Here's what happened:

"Today Dukie was running around playing outside and he was going full tilt and ran right in to poor Fritzie who was tooling along like an Edsel when the Dukie turbo-charged 'Vette broadsided him.  I felt so sorry for Fritzie that I ran to him and put my arms around him and hung on to him after righting him back up."

 It's not easy getting older and our animals rely on us for pretty much everything in their tiny worlds.  All I can say is bless the pet owners who have only the best intentions for their beloved animals in mind when they take on the responsibility of pet ownership.  

Signing on as a pet owner means there will be those kind of good byes again and again.  Believe me, though you might think these animals are the only ones reaping the benefits, it is we the pet owners who come out on top every time.

November 3, 2014

Holiday Antics Come Naturally to Us

Well another Halloween has come and gone, and with minimal pumpkin smashing and fire starting.  Kudos to those who might be tempted to ruin one of the best nights of the year with those senseless pranks.  

I, as usual, enjoyed a little harmless revelry on that night of nights.  Let's just say that the darling, daring little kiddos trick or treating my house got a little surprise when a lady with pink, flashy hair answered their beckoning door bell.  The way I see it, I was just instilling on their little psyches the important fact that one can never be too old to cut loose and enjoy such an enchanting night as All Hallow's Eve.

October 31 antics have always been a part of my life.  This was instilled upon me and my siblings by our dad, who led the parade when it came to enjoying the holiday.  Drawing from some of the harmless little pranks that he learned as a youngster, Dad taught his willing subjects the finer points of haunting at Halloween.

Sometimes that meant dressing in an oversized men's coat pulled over our head ala the Headless Horseman, and sitting in wait for the unsuspecting candy seekers to enter our domain.  I'm sure more than one fled in terror without even gathering a treat from the door.  Dad also taught us the art of haunting our favorite neighbor's house by rigging an invisible thread to open pull open their door, or running empty wooden thread spools across their window to create  eerie noises.  All of these tricks took days to perfect, which is half the fun when planning a haunt.

Of course there were the costumes and every year we'd either dig through the dress up trunk in search of hobo duds or gypsy garb or ghostly get ups.  One year we devised clever costumes using old white pillow cases on which we drew  exaggerated faces.  These were then placed over the head and when you held up your arms, they presented a garish spectacle.  

A favorite go-to costume of course was the witch, for which we'd always don one of our grandmother's old black dresses and a stiff, plastic mask that was held on by an elastic band around ones head.  Simple, yet very effective, I guarantee that much.

I'll admit that sometimes there was toilet papering involved, but of course that was without dad's consent.  I'm sure he would never condone such antics and mom wouldn't allow for the waste of perfectly good tp.  In fact, there were times when our family was the recipient of the decoration and our mom actually saved some of the better, usable portions of the paper.  Okay, maybe this is just myth but I seem to remember this happening on more than one occasion.

So, my generation comes by the enjoyment of the holiday naturally.  Brother always delves into it wholeheartedly and this year constructed a giant spider in his garage and placed it atop the roof.  I will have to say that just seeing the photographs actually gave me shivers and recollections of the B-movie thrillers where giant arachnids take over the world one house at a time came to mind.  

This year I rigged a battery powered, motion activated ghost on my front porch.  I'm sure it harmlessly entertained the youngsters who visited my front door with it's ghostly howl and movement to and fro.  

But flash forward a few hours later when the lights had gone dark and all were safely tucked into bed.  

Outside my window I heard an otherworldly moaning on my front lawn.  I awoke with a start and despite the warmth of the covers I was under, actually felt a spine shuddering fear.  Could it be......a ghoul outside that was intent on tricking me, the trickster herself?!  

As I lay there I wondered if I'd ever be able to return to my sound slumber.  But just as I was slipping back to sleep another ghastly moan started up......and it was then that I remembered that I hadn't turned off the little ghostly apparition that I had hung on the porch to entertain my trick or treaters earlier that night.

Yes, that's right.  I guess you can say I tricked myself into a good, healthy scare.   And after all these years, I suppose it was high time.

October 27, 2014

Water, Water Everywhere…

Being a true county in the state of Minnesota, the “Land of 10,000 Lakes”, Murray is the home to a number of waterways scattered throughout its borders. Granted, one might consider some of these mere watering holes, but nevertheless, they are legitimate lakes in the eyes of cartographers everywhere.  And best of all, at least we haven’t got the distinction of being the one and only county in the state without a lake (right, southeastern Minnesota?)  We’ve even got rivers crisscrossing our county lines as well.

Now I’m probably pushing the county line limits on a couple of these (and I’ll take corrections graciously) but I count at least a dozen lakes in our fair county today.  I also know there are countless other little water spots and I’d love to know about those as well.  But the most known lakes around here include the following:  Big Slough, Lake Shetek, Lake Mariah, Blood Lake, Summit Lake, Lake Sarah, Lake Wilson, Current Lake, Iron Lake, Corabelle Lake and Badger Lake.

Once, there was an erstwhile lake in Slayton named Elsie, and she graced the southeast section of town.  Well Elsie was drained in favor of farming land, which never really paid off as for some reason, the land always tended to revert to wet lands. So, rather than fight the force of nature, Elsie was encouraged a few years ago to arise from the dead and become yet another county lake (or wetland, as the case might be on drier, rainless years). 

So let’s see, that would make 13 official lakes in the county.  And that’s not even taking into consideration the countless other water ways that go unnamed on the official maps.

But what of plans back in 1974 to develop an artificial lake in the Chanarambie valley, three miles west of Chandler.  Perhaps this phantom lake does exist and if so I need to go on a hunt for it one of these days.

The lake was to be created on land donated by the Post brothers, Sankey brothers and Arlo Gilbertson and developed jointly by these folks in cooperation with the ASCS, the Soil Conservation Service, and Moulton Township.

When completed, the lake was to be about nine acres in size and average between 20 and 30 feet deep at the dam.  It was also to be stocked and have a parking area for fisherman.  Eventually, planners schemed, a park could be developed there as well.  Cost estimates for the project was set at $35,000.  Now that’s no little watering hole in my estimates.

So, was the lake ever developed?   How about the park and the adjacent parking lot?  I’d love to know more. Because this unnamed lake would have become number 14 in Murray County.   

And that’s not too bad for this southwest Minnesota prairie land county. 

October 20, 2014

Housekeeping Through the Years

Once upon a time a loving father crafted a dollhouse that would be treasured for a lifetime - or even longer.  His name was Charles P. Nicholas, and he took great care in building the house, lavishing it with his woodworking skills to the best of his abilities.

Each window was fitted with glass, the red chimney was carved to simulate the best brick mason craftsmanship, and the front steps were carved from a single block of wood.  It was truly a work of art and labor of love.  

Nicholas presented it to his two daughters on Christmas morning in 1896, and they delighted instantly in the miniature replica of their own home.  

The dollhouse was equipped with all manner of tiny furnishings that each of the girls fashioned and contributed.  Walls were papered with left over scraps from the farmhouse.  Curtains crafted from tiny pieces of material gathered from their mother’s sewing basket.  Rugs and other items were added by re-purposing things such as ladies hankies and crocheted doilies.  “Artwork” was hung on the tiny walls.  The fireplace mantle and other surfaces were decorated with minutiae care. And of course a family was moved in to inhabit the home. 

Countless hours were spent in make believe as the children imagined themselves living in the miniature rooms.

Through the years, the house aged much the same as the old farmhouse where Nicholas and his family lived. Floors grew scuffed with use and wallpaper sagged somewhat in the corners, but the simple, sturdy dollhouse that he constructed out of wood nevertheless provided hours of joy for the girls. 

The dollhouse has since been owned by no fewer than 15 girls representing four generations.

When we were youngsters, my two sisters and I when we were fortunate to inherit the dollhouse and so came to be the next generation of girls to love and treasure Nicholas’s gift as keepers of the house.  Much like his daughters, we three sisters spent hours renovating the somewhat bedraggled, sagging house, crafting furnishings and decorating the walls and interior of the little home.  

Our little brother, though not officially a keeper of the house, often would take part in dollhouse antics and he delighted in rearranging it on the sly.  Hiding the baby, placing the pets in the oven, putting the cook in the parlor where she most definitely did not belong were only a few of the antics that he pulled.

We all enjoyed the special treasure for years.  But little girls grow up and their interests change as they do so, sadly, the dollhouse eventually was relegated to a lonely corner of the basement where it gathered dust and sat unused for years. 

There’s a touch of little girl in every woman’s heart, though.  One day my oldest sister reclaimed Nicholas’s dollhouse and elevated it to a place of honor in her own home. It would there share space with the other houses that she herself had collected and constructed through the years.

The story doesn't end there though.  Recently my sister and I became great-aunts to a darling little niece.  But long before the child was born, my sister began crafting a brand new, colossal three story dollhouse for the little one.  Built from the ground up, the structure was lovingly pieced together in what would amount to countless hours of labor.  For interior decoration, she strayed from the traditional, opting instead for lively, colorful walls and furnishings.

It is indeed a work of art and one that will be treasured for years to come.

The day finally arrived recently to present the dollhouse to its new owner, our four month old grand-niece.  She stared intensely at the bright walls and her approval was evident as she kicked and squirmed in delight.  It was a gift of love, much like Nicholas’s all those many years before was to his daughters.

With our niece being a little young for dollhouse playing presently, her older brother has happily taken on the role of house keeper. He has commandeered the dollhouse and is making plans to move Luke Skywalker and some of his friends into the house soon. 

Like they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same.