The turning point

When planning one of these tours, I figure fifteen bookings as the "no turning back" point.  I am committed.  At twenty, I break even and from then on the tour is profitable.

Last night, I reached fifteen, with a booking at Circle, Montana.  I usually don't reach fifteen until January, so I am way ahead of schedule, with more e-mails coming in daily.  

The Utah bookings will be in the most scenic areas of the state.  I look forward to seeing Arches, Canyonland and Zion National Parks.   The only drawback is that I will be whizzing through Colorado without a stay at my cousin's or Betty's places.  Maybe there will be time for lunch at a truck stop off the express way.  

Storytelling interrupted

It has been several years since I went out on a tour.  First and foremost, the theme has to fit.  Last year's theme was "Splash!" which meant the events had to do with water.  Our Muehl Public Library had water games in the back yard and the special event was a pool party at the aquatic center.   Splash! did not scream "Storytelling!"  That was a summer to go camping and work on writing projects.

Then there was my accidental stint on the Seymour City Council.

I am a serial voter. I figure I can only complain when I have voted, so I vote in every election from Presidential to school board.  In all my years as a voter, I've only missed five times, always minor elections and always because I was moving out of the areaa, and didn't feel I should have a say.

I am always annoyed when officials run for re-election unopposed.  I want a choice so after the third election when a council member was running unopposed, I threw my name in.  There was no charge,  I only needed 20 names on a form that I passed around  in church on Sunday.  I turned it in and forgot about it.  I never campaigned.  On election day, I voted for myself, thinking no one else would. That night, I got the call:  I won by one vote.

For two years, I had to stay put for the weekly council and committee meetings.  In the election last spring, I left my name on the ballot but campaigned for the other guy, and successfully lost.  Now I am free to travel.

Oops. I forgot the maps.

I went to Illinois on Tuesday without taking the file for the summer reading trip that included the state maps and the dates I've already scheduled.  Sure enough, I received a few e-mails about performances.  Now that I am back and scrambling to figure out what I agreed to with the librarians.  It now looks like I'll be leaving here about the 15th of June, doing a couple of performances in Wisconsin, at least one in Minnesota, heading south from Devil's Lake, North Dakota through South Dakota, Colorado and Utah before going west.  Eventually, I'll reach Oregon and go back east for more performances in Montana and North Dakota before going home around the first of August.   Six weeks away from home is the usual length of my tours, so this sounds right to me.

More stories

Stories come whether we expect them or not.  Yesterday, I had a long, long chat with Gary's 89 year old aunt Shirley, who told me some of the family history, and a lot of the family gossip.  Gary's family has lived on the same farm since 1848 and in the same house since 1884.  That's a lot of stories to digest.  She has the genealogy, but that doesn't include the stories about each person listed, and those are what I wanted to hear.

There was the scandal of the hired man living in the same house as a spinster aunt.  She was decades older than he (she was born in 1858) but in the early part of the 20th century, that was the neighborhood scandal.  How times have changed!

There were stories about horses, because this was once a farm where trotting horses were bred.  We talked about the German migration of the year 1848, which had to do with the European revolutions of the time.  Young men migrated to escape being conscripted into the Kaiser's army.  In other words, his ancestors, and mine as well, came to escape the draft.

This was a highly educated family for its time.  Gary's great-great aunts were college graduates who became chemists and teachers.

I heard stories about Gary and the mischief he got into.  I looked at  a century's worth of year books, obituaries, wedding and birth announcements and more.

Some of what I heard will work its way into some of my novels and short stories, some will be written down for Gary and his family, and some will reside in my brain to be pulled out for farm stories to be told in nursing homes.

Nothing I learned will be wasted.

Another State

We're off to the State of Illinois this morning, family business but I will look in at a couple of libraries to see what's going on.  If I'd known about this trip beforehand, I would have contacted some nursing homes to see if they would like a story or two.

No camping this time, too cold, but sometimes motels can be adventures, too.

A new milepost

Last night, the counter moved past 999 "hits" to over a thousand, so this blog is being read.  I'm hearing from librarians from all over the country.

I finished up with the Oregon e-mails yesterday and today start on Utah.  I want to visit a friend in Ogden, see Zion National Park and camp in National Forests as I go.  I've heard so much about the beauties of Utah but  never visited it. I flew over it a few times but that doesn't count.

The trip is slowly changing shape.  I'll be in Wisconsin, Minnesota, North Dakota and eastern Montana before heading south through Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah.  Eventually, I'll wind around to Oregon and go back through Idaho, western Montana and then home.

I read over the maps before bedtime and dream of new adventures.

Sunday morning

This morning I have the children's sermon at the United Methodist Church.  I haven't a clue what I will do for it, except it must be a story.  The children expect that of me.

Some of my best stories come to me when I am under pressure.  Years ago, I was asked to do a special winter story for a carnival at a Green Bay Catholic church.  I completely forgot about the request until I arrived, so on the spur of the moment, I thought up a story using my winter clothes.  It was a hit, so I kept telling it.  Finally, I wrote the story down and it was published as Jason Goes to Show and Tell.   That led me to a second career in writing, mostly as a journalist.

I wonder what the story will be about today!