The Luau

The Seymour Aquatic Center lifeguards have been concerned lately that pool attendance is way down. I confess I like having the pool and the rest of the facilities to myself, but I understand that if attendance doesn't pick up, the school district could cut the hours way back.

Fighting for their jobs, today the lifeguards threw a party, a luau with food and free pool time for anyone that wanted to come.  It was a huge success.  Free food is always a draw and the kids tore into the pool.  At one time, the small pool had 80 children in it.

Times were set aside for lessons, games, and workouts.  I signed up for joint management, led by an instructor from Bellin Hospital.  There is an ongoing arthritis class led by the Good Shepherd Home, but that would cost me $10 a week, and I am too cheap to do that!  Instead, I go to the aquatic center and do exercises I observed the GS classes doing.  The free workshop today gave me some great stretching moves.  Kayle's mother came and we compared notes about her.  Kayle sat on the lifeguard's chair and tried to ignore us.

I ate booyah Tony and David made and kidded them that it should have had poi in it, though they didn't know what poi was.

I went back to the ice cream table twice, but I followed it with some time in the fitness center on the recumbent bicycle. It would have all evened out but then Gary and I went back for our supper and more desserts.

I talked to the head of the sports facility who said the event had been so successful it would be a yearly event.  The fitness center director said next time roast pig could be on the menu, much more in line with a luau menu.

Once a year is enough.  I dread looking at the scale tomorrow morning.





 

Thoughts on Writing

Censorship

I don't like censorship. I agree with Voltaire who said, “I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it.” I also defend anyone's right not to read things they disagree with, even if that leads to narrow minds.

Worse than censorship to a writer is the awful tendency to self-censor. This comes from the old thought: “What will people think?” A writer must never worry about that  when putting words on a computer but trust that there will be a readership out there.

Over the years, other members of a critique group I belonged to wrote stories in which they killed dogs, not rabid or mean dogs, but nice dogs. I found that outrageous. I love dogs, so I didn't even approve of the ending to “Old Yeller”.

Wade, my partner at Black Coffee Fiction http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com , told me that I was censoring myself and it was holding me back as a writer. He said it was my turn to murder a dog. I took the assignment. This week I went ahead and did the doggy-cide deed.

Character and Voice.

In my short stories, I like to try out characters, walking in their shoes and using their voices to tell my stories. Each of the stories I've presented in Black Coffee Fiction has been entirely different, from the little girl in the rapture to the old veteran in “A Candle in the Window”.

This week's “The Peshtigo River” is told by a small town teenage boy whose story is in his hormones. At that age, a boy wants one thing and one thing only, damn the consequences.

Am I capturing these characters? Does the story work? I never know for sure.

Our Future

At our last meeting, Wade and I discussed publishing a collection of our stories next fall, both as an e-book and a self-published paperback. Will anyone be interested in it? Again, I don't know, but we have reached a point where self-publication is not particularly expensive.

If nothing else, everyone in our families will be getting books for Christmas.  

Winter Gardening

Winter is long in Wisconsin so while I'm waiting for spring, I make sure there is green in the house.  It helps me hang on through February and March.

Every Christmas, the Seymour United Methodist Church is decorated with donated poinsettias.  After New Year's the decorations come down and the donors are supposed to pick up their plants.  Most of them don't so the plants are free to anyone that wants one or two.  Some years, I've had as many as five.  This year I got this one. 

If I tend the plant carefully, it will bloom into spring.  One year, I managed to keep a poinsettia going until the fall frost.   

This past fall, I bought daffodil bulbs at an end of the season sale, as I do every year.  The bulbs went into the refrigerator.  Today, I pulled them out and put half of them in two pots filled with dirt and bone meal.  In less than three weeks, there will be sprouts and by mid-March I'll have daffodils.  I'll start two more pots later this month so the daffodils will last until those in the back yard make their appearance. 

By that time, Gary and I will start some annual flowers and vegetables from seed in trays. 

As of today, there are 69 days until spring and the yards are covered with snow, but I can still water plants, dig in the dirt, and keep spring in my heart.  

Hooky

I had a list of eighteen things I wanted to accomplish today, but instead Gary and I played hooky.

It was a record breaking day here in Seymour. The temperature climbed and climbed until it reached 50 degrees F ( 10 C), unheard of in central Wisconsin. We threw out all our plans and headed outdoors.

Gary had an errand in Appleton.  We took a country road, one I hadn't been down before.  It looked much the same as any country road until we passed a house set within woods. At the entrance to the driveway stood a large brightly colored statue of Ganesh, the elephant god  of success.  I knew at once what it was because years ago when I traveled to New York City, I bought a small statue for Gary, who had always wanted one.  Gary has had his Ganesh on his desk for years, though it hasn't led to any great success, though I tell him he's been successful with me.

We took another look at the property and saw more of the painted statuary, hidden behind the shrubbery that lines the road.  We assume Hindus live there.  How I would like to go talk to these people!

Maybe another day.  Today was our spring day and we intended to enjoy it.  We walked all over town wallowing in sunshine. There is no other luxury I crave as much as warm sunlight.  

I am left with that long list of things to accomplish, but tomorrow is another day, a day when we can expect six to eight inches of snow followed by days of real January temperatures.  Time enough to sit in front of the computer and do my work.

Rascal

Rascal's physical was overdue. The last time our cat had seen the vet was almost twenty months ago.  He had received his last rabies vaccine in 2008.

All his life, he had been tended at the Seymour clinic but that is closed now, a victim of the bad economy. The Pulaski Veterinary Clinic is the closest so that was where we were headed.  I located Rascal's records and plucked a stool sample out of his cat box.

We hid the cat carrier until the moment we left, and dropped him in.  The wailing began.  Rascal is half Siamese and that is the language he yowls in.  Pulaski is half an hour away and he yowled all the way.  It got on our nerves, but Gary thought it would be better on the way home.

The staff at the clinic were efficient.  They checked him over thoroughly.  He had lost a half a pound since his last examination, he had some ear wax, and his teeth are wearing down, but he is 18 - 1/2 years old.  For a senior citizen, he is remarkably healthy. In spite of his time hunting in the back yard, he has no parasites. He took his shots well and even did fine when the staff took a blood sample.

When we were done, Gary said that Rascal would make less noise if he could ride in the back of the van, not in the cat carrier.  He opened the side door, put Rascal inside, but in a flash the cat escaped and hid under the van.

It is a big van and though we knelt down on the damp pavement, we couldn't reach him and he refused to come out.  Finally, Gary called out "turkey, turkey".  Rascal doesn't answer to much, but he loves turkey.  He crawled out and was carefully placed in the van where he could wander around...yowling...for the half hour drive.

When we got home, he hid from us until Gary got some turkey cold cuts.  With that, he forgave us.  He soon was napping on my lap until Gary finally sat down, then he moved over.

It was worth the trip to the vet to find out Rascal is healthy, but he still is an old dude with arthritis setting in, matching me in aches and pains.

This morning, before the Ordeal, he was ensconced in the cat bed where he can look through the glass door to observe his backyard domain.  Sgt. Snuggles, the orange and white cat from next door came by.  In other years, Rascal would have been through the cat door in a flash to chase away the intruder.  This time, he snarled and hissed but he never even got to his feet.

There are not too many years ahead for him.  

January Update

The Illinois motel we stayed at last week sent Gary a survey to find out how satisfied he was with our experience.  As I noted a couple of days ago, we didn't think much of our stay and he let 'em have it with both barrels.  It was too hot, we couldn't adjust the temperature in the room, and the swimming pool was closed.

Today, we received an apology and a refund was added to his account. It pays to have an opinion!

Yesterday I made it official.  I am quitting as the United Methodist choir director at the end of May. I have other projects I want to pursue, including writing, storytelling, and travels.  I'll have to come up with some sort of extra income, but it shouldn't be all that difficult, an article here, a storytelling performance there.  It all adds up.  

Wade Peterson and I agreed today to publish our short stories in both paper and e-book formats.  We are aiming for the end of October.  We'll continue to add to the stories at http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com
so I have to come up with a story by Friday.  For a long time, Wade and I have been dipping into our reserves, but now we are running out of tales and will have the pressure of coming up with original material every other week, plus continue our own blogs. Wade is working on updating "It's a Long Way to the Top" at    http://wadepeterson.wordpress.com

Finally, the last Christmas tree came down today.  In most years, the fake poinsettias in the pots at the front of the house would stay there until spring because they would be frozen in place or covered with snowdrifts.  This year we've had mild temperatures and no snow. I pulled the flowers out this morning.  Sign of global warming?  Who knows.

Another Time, Another Place

Tonight,  Gary and I are watching "Downton Abbey" on public television, the first episode of the second season.

Gary introduced me to Downton Abbey on Netflix in the fall, and I am afraid I am hooked. I am lost in a great estate in England with ladies in fabulous clothes, gentlemen with manners, and plenty of maids and footmen to take care of their every need though in Season 2, World War I is bringing about changes. There are fewer servants and standards are being lowered.  We wonder if Mr. Bates and Anna will ever find happiness. Or will Mathew Crowley and Lady Mary ever admit they love each other?  

Meanwhile, I am reading Pride and Prejudice on my little Nook.  Elizabeth Bennett, Mr. Darcy, and all the rest have their conversations on an electronic device, and it is all the same as it was in paper. Wicked Mr. Wickham and silly Lydia are still the same.  Mrs. Bennett is foolish and Mr. Bennett sees the humor in it all.

And here we are in Wisconsin in our little house with dishes waiting in the kitchen and post-Christmas cleaning to be done.  There is work to do in my office and Gary has to get at things in the basement.  It is a long way from England.

Pure escapism, we know, but it is what long winter nights require.