Walking

Europe is in the middle of a brutal winter with blizzards and freezing temperatures. I wonder how friends over there are faring. Bad weather may be the reason for the sudden increase in my readership. With nothing else to do, they stay home and drop in on my life.

In Colorado, friends living high in the Rockies are buried in a few feet of snow. They have food, a fireplace, and books to read, so are doing well, or so they report on Facebook, which means they still have electricity.

Here in Wisconsin, we're having unseasonably warm weather.  The snow is almost completely melted so the sidewalks and streets are clear.  We should be shoveling snow, instead I'm checking flower beds to see if there are any sprouts.  The lilac bushes in the back yard are beginning to bud. Snowmobiles are on many a lawn with "for sale" signs.

Usually during February I can't get out and walk.  In a normal year, Gary and I go to an Appleton mall to stroll around and around.  One complete circuit of the Fox River Mall equals a mile. When we can't do that, I go to the aquatic center almost every day for a workout, but not in this weather. This past week I dressed in lightweight clothes and put on a warm vest instead of a winter coat. Under a shining sun, I can walk three or four miles a day.

With mileage like that, I finally am making it through Bulgaria. I'll pass Sofia tomorrow, then it's 205 miles to Belgrade, Serbia.  If the weather remains mild, I hope to reach Belgrade by the beginning of June.

This, of course, is the imaginary trip around the world that I began years ago in Seymour.  I've marked the miles on maps as I walked.  Some years I make more miles, others less.  In 2011, I walked 675 miles, which is about average.  So far, I've walked 18,140 miles.  The circumference of the earth is 24,901 miles at the equator.  I will be taking a northerly route and some of those are ocean miles, but I am not exactly taking a straight route.  My current estimate is that at the rate I am going, I should return to Seymour in ten years, if my legs don't give out.

Tomorrow should be another sunny day, but that Colorado storm is heading east.  We'll not get to spring without a blizzard or two.

 

Tuna Casserole

Gary's mother always made tuna casserole with cream of mushroom soup, canned tuna, canned peas, noodles, topped  with potato chips. I expect she got the recipe from Campbell's soup.  Over the years, I've had that version and I never liked it.

I don't make tuna casserole that way.  I begin with a white sauce made with butter, flour, salt, pepper, and whole milk with onion cooked in.  The peas are usually frozen instead of canned, so they aren't mushy.  I like extra wide noodles...and lots and lots of tuna.  I always covered the dish with ground up cereal or bread crumbs, preferably a whole grain.

Gary used to ask me to make it with mushroom soup but he's come to prefer my version, even to ask for it. (Though he still teases me by asking for mushroom soup.)

Tonight, I cooked tuna casserole again.  I used a stick of real butter.  Is there a better smell than onions fried in butter?  I whipped the flour and milk into a sauce until it was nice and smooth, then added it to the rest of the ingredients. Baking it took over an hour, but I served my casserole with its rich sauce, tuna, mushrooms, peas....the whole works, topped with....potato chips.

Well, we all have to make compromises in our relationships.

Hirsute

I never know what Gary will do next which is why after almost thirty years, he is the most entertaining man I've ever met.  

About fifteen years ago, on a whim, he grew a beard while I was off on some trip. He has had it ever since, going into the bathroom once a week to tenderly tend his face.  He carefully groomed the mustache and beard  with special whisker clippers

Me, I liked it.  I thought it made him look distinguished. Rascal often climbed up on Gary's lap to rub against the furry face. I think the cat thought they were related.  

Then, this morning, Gary was in the bathroom for quite a while.  When he emerged, I found out that he'd had another whim.  The beard was gone.  He's been letting his hair grow, too. What a change this is.  

As of 9:00 a.m., I have an entirely new man in my life.  This takes getting used to. On the other hand...I have an entirely new man in my life, which is stimulating. 

Full of surprises, that guy.

  

Tax Time

I sent my records to my accountant yesterday.  I did most of the organizational work on New Year's Eve, putting together receipts and figures from 2011, but I had to wait for a W-2 from the United Methodist Church where I am the choir director.

I've worked with Tom for about 30 years. An artist like me can't use just any accountant, it must be one that understands a quirky lifestyle like mine.  I am a traveling storyteller, but I also am a freelance journalist, and of course, a choir director. None of those have ever made me rich, so I manage my life below the poverty line.  I am old enough to collect Social Security and use Medicare.  It gets confusing, but Tom makes sense of it all.

When I am on tour, I can claim mileage and costs. If I take a course at the technical college, that, too, can be claimed.  My office is deductible, which means 1/7th of the utility bills can be claimed.  I used to keep track of every bit of postage, but with the advent of the Internet, I no longer have snail mail, but the cost of the server is thrown into the claims mix.

Tom works wonders, so I can expect a huge refund.  He usually works with businesses that bring in much more money than I do, but he keeps me on as a client because, he once told me, I have such interesting taxes. He says he tells his wife about me, how I can live on next to nothing, yet go out and have big adventures.

My life doesn't fit well on the usual tax forms. Just once, I used a local tax preparer.  It was a disaster that Tom eventually put right when I went back to him begging for help.  When he moved from Green Bay to Florida, I stuck with him. These days I mail him my materials and we talk over any problems via e-mail.


He works fast so I can expect refunds within two weeks. I haven't seen him for years, yet I feel like I am having a once a year reunion with an old and trusted friend.  

Grandpa's glasses

My grandfather died when I was fourteen.  He was a stern old man, but I loved to listen to him talk about his travels and the places he visited.  I credit him with my love of history and travel.

The years passed and my grandmother died, too.  My parents had many of the things left behind including my grandfather's glasses.  One day, in my late forties, I noticed them and tried them on.  To my surprise, they were perfect for my eyes, which were aging, along with me.  I wore them for a few years, until my eyesight grew worse and I had to get a prescription for bifocals.  My grandfather's glasses went into a drawer.

Finally, three years ago, my eyes developed cataracts.  Those were removed and the eye surgeon replaced the lenses.  Now all I needed was a pair of inexpensive reading glasses, which I bought in bulk.  I think I have about a dozen of them all over the house.  They work fine, but the other night, I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep.

I reached over to get a novel and my reading glasses.  The glasses weren't there. I searched around to see if I could find another pair and opened a drawer.  There were my grandfather's glasses. I had forgotten all about them. I tried them on and to my surprise, after all these years, they are once again a perfect fit for my eyes.

I have other pairs of glasses, but I think when I read history, I'll use these in honor of my grandfather.

Fending Off Winter

As long as there is some sun, I am fine, but come the gray days of winter, I am hit with Seasonal Affective Disorder. Then I need exercise desperately.  When I can't get outside to take my long walks, one would think I would spend the days writing, but SAD doesn't work that way.  My brain turns to oatmeal and not even a nice flavor.  Bland, meaningless mush.  Those are the days I watch television during the day.

So far, we've had a mild winter.  I've been able to get out quite a bit.  Today, I managed to walk two miles around town and later in Appleton.  Tomorrow and the next day, we can expect sunny warm weather, so my intention is to walk four miles each day.

The problem is February.  That month in Wisconsin is snowy and gray.  Twenty eight days seems like fifty.  I dread that extra leap year day. I count down the days until the equinox for my friends on Facebook. There are 51 days to go.

I fight depression with a light board and St. John's wort.  When SAD starts gripping me, I start planning for spring and summer.

Today, Gary and I completed our sturgeon guard forms.  Between mid-April and early May, Gary and I will spend a night or two guarding the giant fish as they spawn along the banks of the Wolf River.  We will be assigned and area next to the rocks put in place by the Department of Natural Resources.  The "ladies" will thrash against the rocks and the males will thrash against the females to fertilize the eggs.  It is a wild orgy as we sit the night through watching them to protect them from human predators who would like to take them for the caviar.   This is our first camping trip of the season.

Around the same time, I will get up on a Saturday morning to go out to a field at the border of Waupaca and Outagamie for the annual Midwest Crane Count. 

 We keep planning camping trips.  Gary builds things he thinks we need.  The UPS truck pulls up bringing gadgets that he deems necessary for survival in the wilderness.

On March 3, Gary and I will go to a Bill Staines concert, when the folksinger comes through Wisconsin on his annual tour.  We've done this for decades.  

Then comes St. Patrick's Day, which is also my birthday.  From then on, spring is unstoppable and SAD is put to rest for another year.

More on Books

After looking over my options, I picked the book I was least likely to read.  The winner is Robert M. Sapolsky's Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers.  


Sapolsky is a Professor of Biological Sciences and Neuroscience at Stanford University.  Gary has watched his lectures on stress on You Tube and says they are interesting, educational, and .... funny. (He says you type in Stanford in the You Tube search engine and go from there.)  The book is filled with cartoons, so if I get confused with the scientific jargon, I'll just look at those.  I'll try to read at least three chapters a week.  I can feel my synapses stretching just thinking about it.

But first I will finish Terry Pratchett's Snuff.   I've been reading Pratchett's Discworld series for years.  They are satire set in a fantasy world.  I roar with laughter then copy out his best witticisms in a notebook that contains the best quotes from books I read.  

But now Pratchett has Alzheimer's disease.  He has already lost his reading and writing ability so dictates his books on a voice activated computer.  I am sorry to report that Snuff shows he is losing his tight grasp on his writing. Anyone can write, but it is the re-writing and editing that make the difference between a hack and a brilliant author.  Snuff is full of action but weak in the satire department.

There is something positive about this shift.  Three serialized movies have been made from the thirty one Discworld novels:  The Colour of Money, The Hogfather, and Going Postal.   The only one that came close to the essence of the humor in the books was The Hogfather.  Discworld is far too complex to be captured on film.  Snuff, on the other hand, is full of the kind of action that directors like.  It would work well on film.

Snuff may be the last of the series, but I will remember and re-read Pratchett at his best, because his best was awesome.