German Space Junk

I love meteor showers but for the last few years we've had cloudy skies in Northeast Wisconsin that have covered them.  

Last night we should have seen the Orionids, and I meant to set my alarm clock for 2:00 a.m., but forgot.  The Orionids are a minor shower anyhow, nothing as spectacular as the Persied showers in August.

Tonight, I walked under the stars again.  Though there are no meteors scheduled, there is a German satellite dropping into earth's gravity.  It should drop a ton of residue as it descends and that translates into man made shooting stars.

The night was clear, the stars were shining, and an assortment of satellites slipped across the sky.  I meant to walk a mile but kept on going.  Even with a sore knee, I enjoyed the night. I limped at least two miles. I sat on a bench over in the park for a while looking up at the Big and Little Dippers and working out some other star formations, too.

No space junk dropped on Seymour or passed overhead.  The sky was still worth looking for.

Winter Holds Off

There were frost warnings for Northeast Wisconsin for last night.

I was actually looking forward to it because then all gardening would be over and I could settle down to winter sloth.  But as I've written before, my back yard seems to be protected from the worst nature can throw at me.  No frost appeared at all.

So it was back to the garden this morning to find more tomatoes. More tomatoes to ripen on the windowsills. More ripe tomatoes that need to be made into soups, salsa and sauces. I am getting mighty tired of tomatoes.

The flowers in pots are still blooming.  When I came home from camping I thought the flowers would be dead from a frost two weeks ago. I was planning on letting them all die and simplifying my life with a plant-less house this winter. But after last night, there they were, still thriving.  I gave up.  This morning I began bringing in plants to tend during the snowy months.

Now there are asparagus ferns and spider plants hanging in the windows. I've made a bargain with myself.  I will bring in one or two plants each day until freezing weather arrives.  Fine weather is forecast for the next few days.  That means there will be geraniums and begonias sitting on shelves, a pot of oregano in the kitchen, and fresh catnip for Rascal.  

I'll be watering plants all winter.

Happiness

     Artur Rubenstein (1887-1982), one of the greatest classical pianists of all time, was often referred to as the happiest man alive.  He explained that he had learned to live unconditionally, with no regrets.
     I read about Rubenstein when I was in my thirties.  His life changed mine.  Never more did I spend time thinking about the past and how I might have done something differently.  I learned the beauty of moving on.
     Lose a job?  No problem, there was always something else to do that turned out to be even more meaningful. Get divorced? Without that divorce, I would never have met Gary.
     I learned that when things went wrong, the result was likely to be a great story. After enough things went wrong, I came to the conclusion that I was capable of working through anything.
     Not so some of the women I've known.  For some, life is one big moan fest. They wallow in misery and do their best to pass it on like a bad cold. They live life conditionally. "I wish..." "I could never..."  "If only..."  "When..."
     This week I put that misery into a short story about Alma, a woman who can't let go of the past and published over at http://blackcoffee.blogspot.com
     I enjoy developing characters and seeing where they take me. Now I am sending out e-mails to librarians, asking them to share what Wade and I are doing with readers in their book clubs.  I offer to be available during their meetings to take questions and comments via instant messages or e-mails.
     Bloggers want and need feedback.  Comments are necessary for growth.
     I am hinting here!

Autumn Wind

Wind is cutting through the upper Midwest.  Windows were blown out of high rises in Chicago.  Farther north, the authorities warned the citizens of Milwaukee about the dangers off Lake Michigan.

Things are a little calmer in my town, but still walking in the cold wind hasn't been pleasant.  Stuck inside by Mother Nature, Gary and I started a fall inventory.  This week, we'll photograph the contents of each room and store the digital photos on CDs in our box in the bank's vault as proof in case we need to make insurance claims.  I do this every five years or so.  

Today, we began by taking inventory of our food stores.  We checked what we had in our freezer, refrigerator and cupboards.  Some things are so outdated they will have to be thrown away.  Old vegetables, frozen or canned, go into the compost bin. Dated wheat products are being spread out on the bird feeders.  The Boy Scouts are having a food drive on Saturday so excess canned and packaged goods will go in bags that will eventually go to the Food Pantry.

Next we made a shopping list of things we need. We ran out of many of our staple foods while we were traveling and camping.  With the list in hand, we were off to the grocery store.  We needed eggs, cocoa, pasta, oatmeal, butter, and so much more.  Add in kitty litter and cat food, toilet paper and vitamins, and we had a final bill of over eighty dollars, much more than we ordinarily spend in one shopping trip.  

Tonight, our house is well stocked.  We drink our hot cocoa and snuggle in. Let the wind blow!

Last Day of the Farmers' Market

It was the last day of  Seymour's Farmers' Market.  The last market of the season and if the managers can't figure things out, the last market ever. It has been held downtown in Nagel Park for three years but has been poorly attended.  The organizers are going to try to find a new location on Highway 54.  If they can't find one, the market is done.

I walked down as usual looking for some good produce.  I found sweet potatoes and cabbage and then the best of all, a Brussels sprout tree.

In other years, our friends Mary and Rick Stellick gave us Brussels sprouts from their garden.  This year, they had no luck, I suppose because of all the rain.  So I was very pleased to find the tree.

Tonight, my job is blanching and freezing sprouts. I expect to get three quarts.

I made cole slaw from the cabbage for supper.. Meanwhile, the last tomatoes from my garden are cooking in the crock pot.   I'm making more spaghetti sauce for winter dining.

The house smells good as we continue the harvest.

Finding Stories

Today, as always, I was at the aquatic center swimming and chatting with the lifeguards.

I've been telling them that it's about time I wrote a short story about the them. Today one of my favorite guards and I were tossing around ideas.  I asked him if he ever wanted to kill one of the swimmers and that led to one anecdote after another.  Soon, I had the outline of a story. I had motive, means, and place for the murder to happen.

Talking to people is the best way to develop characters and plots. That's why I spend so much time seeking out interesting people on my travels. Each conversation is a mine full of gems to be put into a fictional setting. 

Now I have the idea for the short story.  All that remains is the actual writing. 

That's the tough part.

Starry Night

One of the great delights of my life is a solitary walk on a dark night.

Tonight the wind kicked up, though mostly overhead.  I trudged along steadily, but above me the branches of the trees were swirling around, throwing twigs to the ground.

Halloween has become the second busiest holiday in the United States. The houses along the streets of Seymour are decked out with Halloween lights and lit jacko'lanterns. My friend Margaret, who lives on the Canterbury Plains in New Zealand, used to think that our holiday lights were foolish until she came here one winter and saw them for herself.  She then realized we Americans needed the lights in the winter solstice season. They ward off the darkness and keep our spirits up.


I kept going past the schools and away from city lights. The moon rise decided to come later, so the stars over by the football field were putting on a fine show, not as good as in the forest, but still pretty. The wind out there in the park was stronger, wanting to push me over, but it was simply bracing, clearing my mind.

So I walked through twinkling lights and under starry skies.  Winter will come and go and then I'll be back in the forests with their own starry nights.

These are the nights I understand Vincent Van Gogh's "Starry Night" and the line from a song I once heard. "The wind is blowing the stars around."  It was like that tonight.