Influenza

I almost never get sick, but I've had the flu enough in my long life to recognize it when it hits.

I woke up this morning at 4:00 knowing I had to scurry down the stairs to reach the bathroom and the toilet. From that point on I was dizzy and oh, so tired.

I didn't really mind getting sick.  It was a perfect excuse to put my feet up and ignore a frigid late December day. We don't go out on New Year's Eve anyhow so we didn't miss anything.  I never saw the point in waking up to a new year with a hangover so I spent my sick day putting the last photos in the scrapbook and setting up the 2014 budget.  We're looking good financially.

My day was spent napping, reading mysteries and watching re-runs on television.  My sweet Gary waited on me, making Jello for my upset stomach, bringing me ice water, cleaning the house and keeping quiet while I slept.  My ensemble for the day was the bathrobe he bought me for Christmas.

When I was awake, I sat in my comfortable lounge chair with sunlight streaming through the window.  Sunshine is the best healer of all. I feel much better now.  Surely I will start 2014 feeling much better.

It is 78 days until spring. Today's summer song is really Jimmy Buffet's birthday song. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BaKqwvGa6Bw  Because all that New Year's Day marks is "another trip around the sun."

Goals and Lists

I'm a compulsive list maker as anyone who reads this blog knows.  Part of it is, I suppose, an obsessive compulsive disorder, though if something works, is it a disorder?  I want to see how things fit together and make them fit, if I can.

With so many interests (storytelling, writing, traveling, camping, music, family, politics,cooking, and Gary), the only way I can fit the continuing jigsaw puzzle together is through lists.

The ending of one year and the beginning of another is the time I get everything in sync.

I started this morning with an updated five year plan. It is not exactly the five year plan the Soviet communists proposed from WWII through much of the rest of the 20th Century.  Gary often points out that the Soviet five year plans didn't work but I wonder about that.  Certainly some parts must have been productive.  I don't expect everything in mine to work out but enough does to make it worth doing.

This is where I want to be by 2018:
....Fifteen more books written.  Since I managed four this year, I think three a year for five years is close to realistic.
... Trips to Hawaii and three other states, finishing out my travels to all 50 states.
... Trips to Ireland, Scotland, New Zealand, Australia, Costa Rico, Kenya and South Africa.
... Learning something news is always important. I plan on taking Spanish and poetry classes.
... Moving from Seymour to Ashland and starting a new life there.
... Finishing my imaginary walk around the world.  Surely 4,000 miles in five years is possible. I am currently approaching Paris

And those are my broad plans. The next thing is to cut them down to workable chunks.

I made out a list of 2014 goals.
Five books.   I will finish Going Down From Gairloch.  It is almost done with the exception of two or three troublesome chapters.  I will re-edit my mystery and write a sequel during NaNoWriMo in November. Wade, Betty and I continue our daily short stories at Black Coffee Fiction.
http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com  It is still popular, as a matter of fact today we received our 20,000th "hit".  We expect to have our third collection in print by October.  Wade and I now have enough stories for a separate collection of Christmas stories.  Finally, I want to finish a rough draft of my non-fiction book Jake Dog and the Four Cats. 

But that is still too big a chunk, so I now break 2014 into months.
My January 2014 goals are to re-do the Glen Valley mystery e-book, correcting some errors and to work on two of the four remaining Gairloch chapters.  I must also write two short stories.  I will also set up some venues for the summer reading program.  That is plenty because in January I may be serving on a jury.  Gary and I also must spend a week in Illinois working on the farm house.

Finally, there are daily goals. Each morning I have a list of things to do.  Some will be easy, like making out a grocery list, and some more difficult like writing out this post.  Tomorrow are more end of the year tasks: finishing the 2014 scrapbook, clearing off the bulletin board, setting up a tax file, working out the 2014 budgets (both mine and Gary's), emptying filing cabinets of excess paper, organizing the top of my desk, making a pot of split pea soup, and putting out the garbage.

Good thing the days are getting longer.  It is now 79 days to the spring equinox.  

And It's Over ....

Today we hosted Gary's family for a late Christmas party.  Food was good, conversation was good, and they reminisced along with slides his family had taken over the years.  Gary has translated them to CDs now, and we could see people now passed into dust.

Gary did the narration, but somewhere, they will have to figure a way to title those photos because after Gary, who will know?

So we wind up Christmas the way we've lived through it, remembering, remembering, remembering.

Now we turn from the past to the future as we make our 2014 plans.  Over the next three days I will be getting dates on the calendar, organizing tours, planning new writing projects, getting tickets for Hawaii in February, working out budgets, setting up my taxes for my accountant, clearing my desk, and setting out my goals.

Much of this will work its way into this blog through January 1.

Christmas memories are set aside for another years.

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And only 80 days until spring.  Hurry, hurry! Summer is coming.  The Drifters describe it so well in "Under the Boardwalk."  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyzCccndc2w

Readers are starting to give me their own favorites now.

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And only three days to get 25 more "hits" at our short story blog:  Black Coffee Fiction. Take a look.
http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

Wade, Betty and I work hard to bring you these stories.  Let us know what you think of them.  

The Snowy Owl

I was heading out the front door when my former neighbor Elaine walked by.  She lives in an apartment now, but on this unexpectedly warm day she walked over to talk to her daughter.

I asked if she wanted to go with me for a ride and she sure did!  The day was sunny and warm and the snow was gleaming over the hills.  We got organized and off we went to the area east of Freedom, Wisconsin in pursuit of snowy owls.

We get a sprinkling of snowy owls coming down from the Arctic Circle every winter but this winter there is an irruption.  At least 200 have been spotted in Wisconsin since November.  There now is a map from e-bird that helps birders find them.  http://ebird.org/content/wi/news/another-snowy-owl-winter-in-wisconsin/

However, Elaine and I didn't need any maps since the snowies come to the same place every year.  We drove up and down roads looking across. Once I thought we had one but it was just a piece of white fabric blowing in a field.  A snowy in the snow is not that easy to spot.

Then we drove by the dairy on Van Astin Road and found four cars parked beside the road a sure sign of crazy birders who had found something.  Sure enough, there was a snowy owl on top of a farm silo. I had two pairs of binoculars in the car so we got a good look.  One of the birders had a big camera and later she posted a photo of the bird in flight. It was a juvenile, a first year owl. Adult snowy owls spend their windows in the tundra.  It is the young birds who come here for easy hunting. After they turn three, they won't be back.

It was the first time Elaine had seen a snowy owl.  I've seen dozens but what a thrill to see those beautiful birds.

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I've set a goal of reaching 20,000 "hits" by midnight on New Year's Eve at our short story blog. We have only 51 to go. http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/they-might-be-monsters.html  Take a look!

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Only 81 days until spring.  Today's summer song is "A Summer Song" by Chad and Jeremy  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_D2XD341xHo  It's a sad song about love lost, but the description of summer days is nice.

I like hunting for snowy owls, but I like summer even better.

Reaching a Goal

The Black Coffee Fiction blog Wade Peterson, Bettyann Moore and I write is only 99 "hits" before we reach 20,000.  We sure would like to reach our goal by the end of 2013. 

This week's short story by Bettyann Moore is about old women standing their ground. http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/they-might-be-monsters.html  I suggested to Betty that she was channeling this old woman when she wrote it.  

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I spent an afternoon with my best friend Norma in Oshkosh. She lives in Chicago but comes up a couple of times for visits with her family ... and with me.  After we had lunch at Primo, one of the best restaurants in the area, we went off on our favorite past times, checking out the St.Vincent de Paul store. 

I explained to Norma that Gary and I may have money now but I still prefer shopping at re-sale stores. The reason is simple.  If I went to an expensive shop, I would have to try things on for proper fit. If I were to buy something that costs over $50, I certainly would want it to fit well and look good on me.

When I go to a re-sale store, I spend $2 tops. Therefore, I don't bother trying it on in the store.  I take it home.  If I've guessed right, I haven't wasted time.  If I guessed wrong, I sell the item at my next rummage sale and recoup the loss. 

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Only 82 more days until the spring equinox.  Today we in this part of Wisconsin added 30 seconds to the day.  In another week we'll be speeding up. Today I was listening to one of my favorite songs, Bob Seger's Roll Me Away.  Whenever I go on tour in the summer, I begin a trip with this song. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlmyndFlkGA

So the song sings to me of summer days on the road.  And like Bob Seger, when I see a "young hawk flying" my soul begins to rise.  

Cookies and Soup

By the end of Christmas Day, the three platters of cookies I baked and Evan frosted were almost gone and I have two more celebrations to go.  Tonight I am baking another batch of snickerdoodles, so the cinnamon is scenting the house once again.

Gary is at a meeting in Appleton.  One of his good friends is bringing cookies. It is my hope that some will make it here for my next gathering tomorrow.

It is also soup making time using the ham left over from our Christmas Eve feast.  Yesterday, on Christmas Day, I made a pot of a rich bean soup that I will serve topped with grated cheddar cheese.  Today, I made a potato soup.

Now I am out of containers for the soup.  Tomorrow I will be shopping for more because on Monday, after Sunday's gathering with Gary's family, I will be making split pea soup.  By New Year's Eve, it will be time for another batch of vegetable soup.

By the end of January, I will have to roast the turkey that resides in the freezer in the basement.  That will lead to turkey dumpling soup.  All told, I figure to have enough soup stored up to take us through the Equinox.

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Speaking of the Equinox, we now have added a full minute to our day. It is yet 83 days until we have twelve hours of daylight.

Today I was listening to "Summer Breeze" by Seals and Croft.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MsW8rXPcnM0

I love the video of summer time.  I am so, so anxious for blue water and green forests.

A Lazy Christmas Day.

No big post today. It's a lazy day here at Mathom House. We're napping or reading.  Leftovers from yesterday for our meals.

Just a note to let my readers know it's only 84 days until spring. We've added about half a minute to our day.

Gary shared this summer song with me because he thinks it describes the two of us.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LmVNEYV04q4

Best Christmas Ever

What sets this Christmas apart was my increasing appreciation for my amazing daughter-in-law.

Just a few things I love about her.

Every Christmas I put a candle on my parents' graves. Not a morbid thing, it is remembrance. Years ago it was a real candle but when the snow was deep and the wind strong, that no longer worked. Now it is a battery operated LED candle. This year, the cemetery was full of snow drifts. The last time I was there I took a tumble down a bank.  I told Tisha and Chris that perhaps we could skip this little ceremony.

No way!  Tisha took the candle and leaped through the snow like a gazelle. First, she picked up the wreath where it had fallen and set it in place. I may not stay up, but for this night, it stands erect. Then she cleared the snow away from the headstones.  Finally, she set the candle in its proper place.

We came back some hours later and found that little beacon still shining through the night.

Later, we talked in the tree lit living room.Tisha told me about raising my grandson. When Evan was only a year old, Tisha undertook a promise to me, to read to him every night.  They still have that routine every night, though Evan at eight does some of the reading.

One of the thing he has read three times from cover to cover is a children's Bible. This has led him to an interest in religion of all things. He has been thinking lately about whether God is male or female. So far he is on the male side in the discussion. I find having a budding theologian in the family a hoot.

Tisha is raising an interesting boy and along the way growing herself.  Isn't that the best part of raising children.

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There are two days I do no work whatsoever:  Christmas and my birthday.  I doubt I will write this blog tomorrow unless I have some great story to tell. 

Christmas Greetings

Another five Christmas cards arrived today.  Four of them had letters.

One was from Gary's great-aunt Alice who wrote a lovely and newsy letter detailing all the activities she has been involved in.  She reported on her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She wrote about her Bible Study group, her card group, and going to a coffee shop with her live in boyfriend. She has a busier  life than I do. She is 98 years old.

Beth in Texas wrote about Christmas trees, both the ones in her house and the trees of relatives.  I see what I started writing about my trees and ornaments.

Mary Ann has been told she can no longer live alone so has to decide what to do. For the moment she is still in her house.

For the first time, my daughter-in-law wrote a Christmas letter , a really good one.  I figured I knew everything about their year but I learned a few things about Tisha's job (I didn't know that she was learning a new role), Chris's work on his MBA, and above all, what's up with that grandson of mine. He's been getting into trouble for reading during all his subjects, even during a fire drill, went  up two levels in his swim class, and having the same problem Chris had in his music lessons by learning the music before he learns the notes.

This is what I love about Christmas cards, learning what's going on with friends and family. Those e-cards I'll be getting over the next few days have lots of interesting graphics, but I don't learn anything from them.

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It's eighty-six days to the equinox. We've added seven seconds to the day length. We won't really notice any change until the second week in January.

Today I was listening to Jimmy Buffet. There's no one better to make me think of summer days at the edge of an ocean.  My friend Nikki will be at Key West next month and will be at Buffet's Margaritaville restaurant eating a cheeseburger.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ohac8ufjFM8

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Today I baked Christmas cookies that Evan will help me frost.  Tisha gave me the cookie dough which is sold as a fund raiser at Evan's school. The container said the dough would make 4 dozen cookies but instead I wound up with 6 dozen.  That will be some decorating tomorrow afternoon.

Christmas Cards

I re-evaluated the days to the spring equinox. It varies by location. I've decided to declare it March 20, though a 12 hour day will occur three days earlier here in Seymour.  So I am now saying spring is 87 days away.  Today I am thinking of Buffy Ste Marie's song, "Still This Love Goes On" which makes me think of the hot days of the Oneida powwow at the beginning of July.  Drums will be beating, songs will be sung, jingle dancers will be jingling, and Gary and I will be pigging out on fry bread.  You can hear the song at this link:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pZyJCdH_u8

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Today, I was writing out Christmas cards, something I theoretically finished at Thanksgiving. But each year the same thing happens.  Just two or three days before Christmas cards begin arriving from people I didn't send a card to.

I keep a Christmas card list of cards sent and received. They come to my mailbox, I check off the names. If I haven't received a card from someone after two years, the name is crossed off for the next year. After all, postage is expensive.  But those are the people that suddenly send me a card ... late.  They are often accompanied by long letters that I know I will have to respond to by New Year's Day.

One year an irate friend sent me such a letter and said she had not gotten one from me.  I replied that she hadn't send me one in five years.  Oh, she said.

Well, it is fun to get these cards anyhow, thirty so far.  I guess I will have a few days before 2014 to answer the letters.  It is good to know friends are still out there in the world.

Spring Countdown

It was three years ago that I started doing a spring countdown for my friends on Facebook.  I began on the winter solstice.  Every day I posted the days until spring and the length of the day.

I began again this shortest day of the year.  Here  in Seymour, December 21 was 8 hours 49 minutes and 31 seconds long.  That means when I woke up at 6:00 the sky was dark.  The sunrise was at 7:20 a.m. By 4:15 the skies darkened again.

Not much will be different tomorrow. It will be 89 days to the equinox and all that will be added is 2 seconds.  We have a long way to go to get up to reach that blesses 12 hour day.

To make the countdown more interesting, I am going to post a song that reminds me of summer.  Today's was "The Southern Cross" by Crosby, Stills and Nash.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bw9gLjEGJrw
It reminds me of sitting beside a campfire at a sheep station near Canberra, in Australia and days on boats in southern climates.

I am looking for more songs that speak of summer.  I would appreciate any suggestions.

Meanwhile, we have to survive these dark days.


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Don't forget to check out our short stories at Black Coffee Fiction. They're a way to while away the winter. http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com

Snow Day

This winter is getting a bit old.  Except that today is the last day of autumn.  Winter doesn't officially start until tomorrow.

However, it was winter in every way but the calendar.  It was snowing when Gary got home last night. It was snowing when we woke up. It snowed all day and is still snowing.

So other than running the snow blower and doing a bit of shoveling, we've been home all day. I missed a funeral I meant to go to.  I missed going shopping for a present for my grandson.

Instead we stayed in, watched a little television, read, and snacked on snickerdoodles.  I baked up some squash left from the farmers market this summer. I packed it in bags to put in the freezer. I thought about baking more cookies but I think I learned my lesson with the snickerdoodles.

Though our Christmas trees are on timers to make them light up two hours in the morning and three hours in the evening, today Gary turned them all day to lift our spirits.

Gary settled in next to the living room tree for a long winter's nap in his recliner.

I told him he really needed a cat to make it perfect, but we have agreed to avoid pets until we have moved, probably next summer.

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I finished the last in my series of Christmas stories for people who don't like Christmas.  This time it was a coming out of the closet story.

http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/let-your-hearts-be-gay-at-christmas.html

There are two things that should never be done at Christmas:  tell your parents something they are not prepared to hear and giving someone a puppy.

Winter Mornings

Each winter morning, I rise at 6:00 a.m. As we come to the winter solstice, that hour is dark here in Wisconsin. However, there is much to cheer me.

Gary has timers on the Christmas lights so that they all go on at 6:00 a.m. As I come down the stairs, I hear a click and the rooms are bathed in lights.  The dining room Christmas tree is the big one. In my office the poinsettia tree turns everything red.  The living room is green from Gary's father's old tree.

This morning, a surprise.  Gary managed to fix the three foot tall fiber optic tree last night and it, too now rests on a table in the living room casting rainbow shades.

I light the candles I found at summer rummage sales. There are enough of them to last until March. A lavender scent in the living room, cranberry in the dining room, vanilla here in the office.

I boil water and turn on the computer. When I sit at this desk, another light show, the almost full moon setting in the western skies.  I drink my morning tree and watch it until the sun rises in the east. By the time I eat my toast, the moon disappears.  I turn on the stereo for classical Christmas music.

That is the signal for the birds to get busy.  By 7:00 a.m. the downy woodpecker is at the suet feeder just outside my office winter.  He is followed by the hairy and red bellied woodpeckers in turn.  Soon the mourning doves, chickadees and juncos are fluttering around until the blue jays arrive about 8:00 a.m.to scare them off. Next come the cardinals. Who needs Christmas lights when the birds are putting on a show? The timer flicks off the lights when full daylight makes them unnecessary.

Now it is time for a frothy cup of cappuccino, my big winter treat. I add a snickerdoodle and set to work on Friday's story for Black Coffee Fiction.

Gary's coffee maker turns on.  Gary comes down the stairs soon after. Our day has begun.

The Podiatrist

I've had malformed feet all my life. My big toes turn toward the other toes leaving big bulged like bunions.  I always figured it had to do with wearing bad shoes when I was a child and lived with them. I bought shoes to fit around those awful toes and always managed.  I wound up a hiker. If there was pain, it was never bad.

Then I developed hammer toes. The second toe on each foot began to cross over the third.  According to web sites, this could be caused by bad shoes, either high heels or shoes that are too tight.  However, I haven't worn high heels in years.  I've always thought they were rather a silly fashion. As for tight shoes, I wear size elevens.  I mostly wear canvas sports shoes with a certain amount of "give".  I don't have to have supports because I was born with flat feet.

Up until the hammer toes, I had little trouble. Then at my yearly checkup, my doctor suggested I see a podiatrist who could operate on my feet.  But yesterday, I found out that the hammer toes could not be repaired by surgery because my big toe is so deformed it would just continue to push on the other toes. This is a genetic problem, he told me.  It was the same with the flat feet. (That explains my son's feet.)

The podiatrist finally suggested simple devices I could buy in any drugstore for $7, tubes to put over the second toe on either foot.

It helped right away. I am now pain free.

So I will live my life with crooked feet, accepting that my feet will never be pretty.

  

Snickerdoodles and Cookbooks

A few nights ago, I dreamed of snickerdoodles, those wonderful buttery cookies.  When I woke up I thought I was safe from the calories because I probably didn't have the right ingredients.  I was wrong. I had everything in the house.

The next step was to avoid baking.  Gary and I are trying to lose weight. According to the internet calorie counting sites, one snickerdoodle has 140 calories.

I held off as long as possible, but we've had so many cold nights and I convinced myself baking would keep the house warmer.  Tonight some friends called to say they were coming over.  It was as good an excuse as any and I flew into action.  I sent cookies home with Susan and Bob but Gary and I ate three this evening each. I still had three dozen left. I knew what I had to do. Into the freezer they went.  I hope they stay there.

The recipe came from the Betty Crocker New Good and Easy Cook Book.  New?  Well maybe in 1967 when I bought it.  I was living in Chicago at the time. The book plate I placed in it says "Colleen Doersch."  I was single then.  Within a few years I added The New Settlement Cookbook and the Woman's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery, a 12 volume set. Those books were the best investment I ever made.

Unfortunately, after almost 50 years, they are all getting worn out.  The Betty Crocker covers came off. The spine of the New Settlement book  is gone.  The covers of the 12 volume set are dirty from years of sitting on messy kitchen counters but it is the inside of those books are really messy. I can scarcely make out my favorite recipe for banana nut bread in Volume 2.

Tonight I searched the Internet, that fount of anything anyone would want to know about and found out that all the books can be purchased on line.

Yet replacing the books seems like abandoning old friends.  I wonder if I will.

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For more on cookies check out Wade Peterson's story at Black Coffee Fiction
http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/pick-your-poison.html
  

Winter Nights

In 2013, I was the evil weather goddess. Whenever I wanted to do anything the weather turned bad.  In February, I went South and found horrendous storms, including one tornado that wiped out the campground I meant to go to.  In March, April and May the sturgeon spawned then stopped when the weather turned cold, then started and stopped again. We never got to guard along the banks of the Wolf River.

Because of snow the campgrounds did not open at the beginning of May.  It was almost June before we got started and then it rained for most of the month.

I went around Lake Superior on a storytelling tour in July.  Canada had rain, extreme heat, or chills. On the only two pleasant days, the little black flies came out.

Then came July, August and September in the national forests with more rain and cold. Far too often we were inside the camper instead of hiking in the woods. So the year has gone. Whenever we wanted to do anything, the weather intervened.

This morning the temperature in Seymour was -8 degrees F. (-13 C.)  We've had days of snow, ice and freezing temperatures. I cannot get out to walk so we make do with the fitness center.

Tonight we are home as the temperature plummets again.  Once inside the house, let the winds howl, let the snow fall.  Mathom House is well insulated.  We stay warm.

Our meals reflect the weather.  Tonight we had spaghetti and meat balls, the perfect comfort food.  Later, we'll follow that with hot apple pie.  We'll sit next to our respective Christmas trees with our laptops and e-books. I am listening to Christmas music on the stereo. Gary is playing video games. Candles flicker on all the horizontal surfaces.

We are warm and content with life. If I have to be the bad weather goddess, at least we can be comfortable.

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Since I wrote about my Christmas tree, I am getting more ornaments from friends around the world. Today's came from Carol Ferguson in Sonora, Kentucky:  a crocheted guardian angel, like those she makes for the children's hospital.  It is a reminder that I should get back down there for a visit as soon as I can.  

Calendar 2014

I started planning for 2014 on my brand new desk calendar today.  There's is something so delightful about starting a New Year with fresh paper and fresh ideas and looking back at the ratty old calendar and realizing I can soon throw it away.

Last year so many of our plans were upset when Gary had to spend the winter in Illinois taking care of his aunt until the end of April.  

There was no Green Bay RV & camping show for us then.  But this year we should be here in Wisconsin for it on January 16-19.  We will climb in and out of trailers and RVs to see what's new. At the same time, we will buy our state park camping stickers, pick up brochures and maps, and talk to old friends among the dealers. Click here for information:

http://www.wbay.com/story/24925/wbay-rv-camping-show

It was my intention to do several book signings in Illinois in January when we are back in Dixon to do some more work on the farmhouse.  Instead, I am going to be doing jury doing here in Outagamie County. Instead, I am going to try to do the signings at the beginning of February.  I'll be in Hawaii February 11-28. 

That brings us to March.  On March 7-8 we'll be in Madison for Canoecopia, the nation's biggest canoe show. Gary already has four canoes but he is interest in kayaks. Because of the weather, we missed canoeing as much as we wanted. Our first canoe trip of the year is often at the end of March but this year, Wisconsin had snow almost to the end of May.  This year we hope things go better. If nothing else, we'll reconnect with canoeing instructor Becky Mason, daughter of Gary's hero, Bill Mason.

http://www.canoecopia.com/canoecopia/page.asp?pgid=1001

In April there's the Midwest Crane Count on April 12.  I haven't made the count for several years and unless I can find a partner, I may not do it this year either. It really takes two people to do the job properly, particularly if the site is busy.  

https://www.savingcranes.org/annual-midwest-crane-count.html

Somewhere in April or May we want to guard the sturgeon on the Wolf River and its tributaries.  Last year was a disappointment, too, when the giant lady fish kept changing their minds about laying their eggs on the rock piles along the water.  It never happened on any of the three days we selected.  We are not deterred. We will keep trying.  The sign up sheets will not be available until January. I've marked that on my things to do list for the first week of the new year.

http://dnr.wi.gov/topic/fishing/sturgeon/sturgeonguard.html

Soon after we will be camping in the north woods.  The campground all will be open by mid-May. 

Calendars offer so much promise starting with the first entry on January 1. I'll be forcing tulips in pots on that day.

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Something else for the calendar.  Starting tomorrow, a holiday blog parade of writers.  You can follow the list at Nikki Kallio's blog, More Purple Houses:
http://morepurplehouses.blogspot.com/

Christmas Memory -Final

Once all the ornaments are on the tree, it's time for the finale:  candy canes.

Even candy canes bring back the memory of our Australian Shepherd Jakedog.  Jake loved candy canes. Each morning one cane would be missing and Jake would have peppermint breath.  The candy canes remind me of the choir I once directed. We found out that candy canes were perfect for sore vocal cords.  I still keep the candy canes in my office after Christmas for the occasional bout of laryngitis.

But  that is not the end of  this Christmas memory tree saga.

In the living room is the tree that once stood on a table at Gary's father's house.

Then there's the small tree here in the office and another in my bedroom.  We ordinarily would have little trees on the deck but winter came before we had time.

We are awash in lights and memories.

----
This afternoon, I watched my eight-year-old grandson climb up on a piano bench and play "Up on the House Top" on a grand piano during his piano recital.  I had two reactions:  intense pride at his accomplishment and extreme jealousy that he got to play that beautiful instrument. 

Christmas Memories - 11 - Angels

A continuing theme around my memory tree is the angel.

My friend Elizabeth Miller of Invercargill, New Zealand used to send me an angel every Christmas though the increased cost of air mail brought an end to it. One of my favorites is this naked baby angel:

Somewhere on the tree is an angel made almost completely of paper clips (can't find it right now) that I think also came from Liz.

This ornament came from my oldest sister who gave me quite a few crocheted and knitted ornaments:

I don't remember who gave me this angel but I think it might have come from my friend Susan.

For years, I looked for a tree topper.  I tried spires and fancy ribbons but they never fit very well. Then two years ago at an after Christmas sale, I found this angel.

 I think I spent 25 cents on it. It is cheap, but because it is seven feet up, it is fine unless someone climbs a ladder for a better look.

***

Wade Peterson wrote another Christmas story which will help the reader avoid overeating during the holidays. We do try to provide a public service:
http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/pick-your-poison.html

Christmas Memories - 10

Each year, our local funeral home places a memorial tree at the city museum decorated with the names of those people who died during the year. I took my mother's ornament home with me and there it is on my tree year after year.

Look a bough or two farther along and you find the latest generation.When Evan was two years old, his mother took his photo for this Christmas ornament

She recorded him saying "I love you Grandma. Merry Christmas!" It was so charming I had to show it to a friend after the holidays, but instead of playing the recording, I pushed the little switch the other way and recorded, thereby erasing my grandson's voice.

The next year, Tisha had three-year-old Evan record the same message and Chris but a bit of electrical tape on the ornament so I can't record over it.

I think Evan was in kindergarten or preschool when he made this star with the music for "Silent Night". Now he is taking piano lessons.  I expect a year from now he'll be able to play the song.

Will I live long enough to place a great-grandchild's offerings on my tree?

Christmas Memories - 9

I think Chris was still young when my youngest sister gave me Twelve Days of Christmas ceramic ornaments for my tree.

It was easy enough to put them on the tree but when the time came to put them back in the box, there was a problem. I always take the ornaments off before I remove the lights to avoid breakage. Every year, without fail, one of the twelve days is missing.  Sometimes I find that one under the tree, sometimes Gary finds it when he finally is taking the tree down.  Yet not a single one of those ornaments is chipped.

One of the charms of Christmas Eve is grandson Evan looking for all twelve. Last year he insisted on getting them in order.

Year after year, the Twelve Days are there giving me grief.  I even had to search for ten minutes to photograph these three!

***
Last minute shoppers:  all my books are available at Amazon.com.  E-books, too!
The Glen Valley Compact
Decades of Love and Other Disasters
Yesterday's Secrets, Tomorrow's Promises
Black Coffee Fiction, volume 1 (with Wade Peterson)
Black Coffee Fiction, volume 2 (with Bettyann Moore and Wade Peterson)

Christmas Memories - 8

In the mid 1990s, something unusual happened in Seymour.  Dean's Den, a florist shop, opened on South Main Street. What was unusual were the proprietors, Marv and Norm, two openly gay men. There have been homosexuals in Seymour as long as I can remember and probably since the beginning of the town.What was different was that these men were open about their sexual proclivities. I was delighted they were here. It was a sign that Seymour was growing up, I thought. I probably was one of the first to welcome them.

I worried about their reception in the town but to my surprise, nobody bothered them. They even became popular, particularly among the townswomen. They had new and unusual designs for their floral work and a boutique of unusual items. They went off to the annual bridal show each year with their displays and found work all over the Fox River Valley.

The one I had the most to do with was Norm. He had lawn chairs in front of the shop. I often joined him there for a nice round of catty gossip. What a wicked sense of humor he had, even worse than mine.

They were here because Norm was taking care of his elderly mother who lived in Pulaski. He told me he would stay as long as she lived but in only a few years she died. The shop closed almost immediately.  It was at the closing sale that I added to the music theme on my Christmas tree with a half dozen musician ornaments.

Marv and Norm moved to California and for three years I received Christmas cards from them. Like so many people I've known, they faded out of my life.

As long as those band members march around my tree, Norm and Dean are still here in my memories. I like to think they are still alive and now married. I wish I knew.

Christmas Memories - 7

My mother and I were spending a day shopping for Christmas presents. We had lunch and were heading home on Mason Street when we noticed that the Ben Franklin store was having a sale. We decided to take a look. In those days before the Hobby Lobby, the Ben Franklin stores were "craft centre".  We wandered around in the store but all I found was a basket full of tiny teddy bears. They were on clearance for 10 cents each. My mother insisted on buying eight for me. I think they were supposed to be added to some craft or cleverly dressed but all I ever did was put them on the the tree.

I picked up another bear at a rummage sale, this one dressed up.

That made nine teddy bears. The years passed.  Chris married Tisha who loves teddy bears. She must have several hundred of them. Chris is afraid to go to carnivals because that would mean even more. Tisha noticed the bears on the tree and soon there was another.

It's not quite another theme but if Tisha had her way.....

Each year, those teddy bears remind me of three others.

When Chris was born, my friend Norma gave him an Italian teddy bear, nice and squishy.  I loved that bear but Chris never took to it. He was not a teddy bear type of baby.

Years later, Chris and I were walking through a department store and passed a display of white teddy bears. They were so soft.  I told Chris that I never had a teddy bear when I was little, just some kind of little stuffed toy that looked like an egg.  "Why don't you buy one?" Chris asked.

"Because a teddy bear should be given to you by someone who loves you," I said, though really, a teddy bear was out of my price range.

That Christmas, Chris gave me a teddy bear. I still love it.

And years later, I received yet another teddy bear, this time from my grandson. When I squeeze its paw, there's a recording of my grandson's voice saying, "I love you, Grandma!"

Teddy bears remind me that there is love just within my reach.

Christmas Memories - 6

I was directing a church choir and chairing an ecumenical Christmas concert in those early days but I was finding that for some reason I was oh, so sick every Christmas, coughing and sneezing and losing my voice. I sucked on lozenges to get through the season but I never recovered until mid-January. I considered it my yearly cold until I finally remembered that my grandmother (my father's mother) and my aunt Florence both were allergic to Christmas trees.

I could no longer have a real tree even one from a dumpster. My mother came to the rescue with a sizeable check for a good artificial tree.

Now my mother sometimes gave me a check for a Christmas present for myself. She figured she didn't have to shop and she felt I needed nice clothes.  I would take her check, find some nice like new outfit at Goodwill and put it in a Marshall Fields box, wrap it and put it under her tree. The balance would go for presents for Chris.  OK, it was sneaky, but we were really hard up for money. My mother never knew the difference, I had a nice piece of clothing and Chris had better presents than he would have had.

This year I needed a tree. I put it off as long as I could. Finally I went to Menards three days before Christmas to see if I could get a good deal.  I was thinking I would get a short table top tree and would have to make do with that.

Instead, I arrived when the store was taking down the Christmas displays. I made an offer and found myself with a seven foot tree. Even better, it came with lights and ornaments.  Suddenly, Chris and I had a beautiful tree that required no home made paper decorations.  The lights looked like poinsettias, the ornaments were musical instruments.

And I had around $50 left I could spend on Chris!

The lights finally wore out after perhaps twenty years, but the ornaments are still with me. Five years ago, at a post Christmas sale, I found a dozen drums for a dollar. Two years ago at a rummage sale I found a box of eighteen more of the expensive gold colored instruments for $2.00.

Yesterday, during the book signing at Sissy's, I found two wooden instruments.  

I no longer direct a choir and the ecumenical concert ceased to exist a few years ago, but the music is still with me on my tree.  

Christmas Memories - 5

After we moved back to Seymour, my parents lived three blocks away from us on High Street.  There were Christmas ornaments there, too, and in time some of these came my way.

This red bird was on the tree when we lived on the farm on French Road.  It came along with my parents when they moved to Seymour.

Soon after that the clip that held the bird to the tree went missing and my mother decided to throw it away. I salvaged it. Gary found a clip and the red bird found a place on my tree.  It's been here ever since.

Not on a tree, this Japanese lamp hung in our farm kitchen each Christmas as long as I could remember. On Christmas Eve we lit a candle but kept a close eye on it.  It really wasn't all that safe.

Chipped and worn paint, but it is still on my wall.  On Christmas Eve, my grandson helps put little electronic LED candles in all my candle holders upstairs and down and on this one as well.  Modern technology has given this ornament new life.  Is it beautiful?  No.  But the memories are.

***
A good book sale at Sissy's today.  I am down to one copy of The Glen Valley Compact.   My theory is that the local people are buying it to see if they are in it ... and who was killed.  Susan Manzke is in the middle of it and says she knows who the murderer is. We'll see about that!

Christmas Memories - 4

In those early days, there was little money to shop for ornaments but they came slowly, some as gifts from relatives and some through advertising. Somewhere on my tree is a crystal Energizer Bunny that I must have gotten in a package of batteries.  

Chris found one of the mice in Disney's Cinderella in a McDonald's Happy Meal. The mouse has been on the tree ever since. We didn't eat out very much in those days. A trip to McDonald's was a big treat. 

As soon as he had a job delivering newspapers for the Appleton Post-Crescent, he began to think about things he could get me.  His first Christmas present was this little train made of tin. He found it on sale (my boy!) at the local drugstore.  It was a nice addition. 

We were beginning to have a real tree but at this point I was still adding paper ornaments and stringing popcorn to fill in the empty spaces. But the collection on my memory tree was growing. When I look at that little train I remember the cold winter days when he went out with his bag of newspapers, day after day, year after year.  

***
Last night I "boysat" with my grandson.  We played video games, watched movies, read, and best of all, played his new piano.  Evan has only had lessons for three months but he is progressing quickly.  We were able to do a duet together.  I haven't played a piano in at least two years but we muddled through. He has a recital in another week. This proud grandmother will be there.

***
Bettyann Moore concludes her story "Queen of Acapulco" at http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/queen-of-acapulco-part-ii.html  Betty is growing in her storytelling. In some ways, it reminds me of  Nobel Laureate Alice Munro's short stories. I've been reading them lately for inspiration.

Christmas Memories - 3

When we lived in Schaumburg, Illinois, I discovered an interesting store in a warehouse district. It was where unsold crafting items were stored and sold off at huge discounts. It was there that I found sketchbooks, water colors and pencils for my drawings. I found yarn and floss that I used to make pillows that I gave for presents. It was there that I found kits of all kinds for crafts I could do with Chris. I bought some and for a few years, he and I made ornaments for our Christmas tree.

We did ceramic pieces that required putting some kind of clay in molds and baking them, then decorating them.

I don't remember how many we made.  Over the years, all but this one broke. Perhaps we didn't bake them properly

Another kit contained metal forms and colored plastic beads. We had to very carefully put the beads in the forms that rested on a cookie tray.  This was a very laborious process but it gave Chris good exercise on his fine motor skills. Once we had filled the ornaments it was my job to take the tray to the oven for baking.  In the end we had some pretty little stained glass (plastic) ornaments that have lasted over thirty years.  

Each year I put them in front of a light so that they glow on the tree.  

Another year we tried doing the same thing.  We did all the work but I tripped on the way to the oven scattering little beads all over the kitchen.  We never did that again.  It was around that time he realized what a klutz his mom was. 

When I place these ornaments on the tree I am remembering time I spent with my son at the kitchen table as we prepared for Christmas.  

Christmas Memories - Part 2

Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; but remember that what you now have was once among the things you hoped for. -- Epicurus

Anyone looking at the photo of my Christmas tree in yesterday's post might think I was the ultimate consumer, filling my tree with ornaments to the point that there's scarcely room for any more. But look closely and you would find that many of them are old, going back decades. Each year, I might have added one or two ornaments. Eventually the tree was filled.

I've never had much money to spend on Christmas or on anything else. Some years,I even got the tree from the dumpsters of local schools. I usually made three dimensional snowflakes folded out of old business letters and and made string of popcorn.

When Chris was young, I thought he should have a decent tree and began to think about collecting over the years.  We had lights back then of course. Every year I had to spend hours getting them to work. I usually had to buy six bulbs to replace burned out ones and every evening  worked on keeping the tree lit. One year, just before Christmas, I found boxes of "gingerbread men" for ten cents, six in each box. I bought two boxes and that was my big expense for the year.  Made in Japan, they were made of  painted Styrofoam. The eyes always looked Oriental to me.

When we lived in Schaumburg, Illinois, I found some sale material printed with a Christmas patterns. They were meant to be sewn into six fabric ornaments. A neighbor looked at what I was doing and said if I backed the material in red fabric, I would have a dozen ornaments instead of six.  She furnished the red fabric out of her stores. I hand stitched the ornaments and filled them with old shredded nylon stockings.

I only have three of those gingerbread men left, but all the stuffed ornaments have survived. They aren't attractive but they always bring back the time when we had so very little to live on. No matter, we loved Christmas.

Every year, these ornaments remind me of how far we've come since then. They'll always be on the tree.

Christmas Memories - Part I

I finished decorating the Christmas tree today.

As I worked, I went through the story of my life, revealed in Christmas ornaments. I have never spent much time thinking about the past. "Forever" is an overused word. No one is remembered forever. But once a year, I take time to remember those who went before me when I decorate the Christmas tree.  

This is the first memory. 

My mother's mother lived in California. We never knew her that well.  At Christmas we received a crate of fresh fruit and a long distance phone call.  

Besides oranges and grapefruit, the crates sometime included unusual fruit. That is how I got my first taste of pomegranate. I didn't much care for the seedy pulp, but the taste was so sweet.  Later we got Hawaiian Punch in a can. I recognized the taste immediately.  

One Christmas some time in the early 1950's Granny showed up in person . She had a present for us, she said.  It was a box of glass Christmas ornaments. She gave one to each of us kids. I don't remember the others being thrilled with their presents but I loved mine. All the bulbs went back in the box after that Christmas, to be hauled out year after year. I always made sure that I put mine on the tree. 

I became fascinated with the Christmas tree after that and made sure I was part of the decorating process. Back then the trees were cut in our own woods, fresh.  My job was to put on the tinsel.  Does anyone do that anymore? I laboriously did each strand, looking for perfection while I listened to Christmas records. My favorites were the albums of Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians, a choral group.  

And always there was that gold ornament.  As I went off to live my own life, I took it with me. Through my years of moving from one state to another, it was always carefully packed away. I  sometimes had poor excuses for trees and had only home made paper ornaments but I always had one bit of gold, my grandmother's ornament. Over fifty years, I've managed not to break it.

It is still the first ornament on the tree. It shines to the memory of my grandmother.   

***

The first box of The Glen Valley Compact arrived today. I took five to Sissy's for Saturday's book sale. I took another to the Muehl Public Library.  I told head librarian Elizabeth Timmins that I killed a librarian in it. She said she'd better take it home to read. She'll find out the sleuth is a head librarian, too.  

I have an order to fill and another to save for our postal carrier.  That leaves me with two books so I'll soon have to place another order. 

Christmas is Coming

Today I took my Christmas cards to the post office.  At the same time, I collected the mail that had been held while we were in Illinois.  Along with bills, flyers and offers, there was a single Christmas card and we're off and running toward December 25.

Gary got the Christmas tree up. It isn't a real tree. A few years ago I discovered that the reason I had laryngitis every December was that I was allergic to the mold on the trees we brought into the house. Now I have a fake tree, though a good one. Together Gary and I wound the lights around it.  As usual, the lights worked when we tested them but once strung, sure enough some went out once on the tree. We persevered and tonight the tree is lit.

Tomorrow I'll add the decorations.  That task will take most of tomorrow as I go through all the ornaments I've collected over sixty years, from the little gold bulb given to me by my grandmother when I was perhaps eight years old to the things made for me by my grandson. Some of them were made by crafters.  Some I made myself.

Tomorrow I'll take another photo of that tree when it is completed.

December News

We took it easy today with just the beginnings of Christmas starting.

Today, we found the wreath that goes out to the cemetery.  I needed to rewire the wreath to its stand.  I found a new red bow in my Christmas boxes.  Now we have to find a way to stake it into the ground in front of the graves. Usually, the ground is softer when we do this, but now the ground is harder.  We'll find out about that tomorrow.

Gary found the big Christmas tree and dragged it down the steps  from the cubby hole on the second floor, but on the way down he upturned a big humidifier, dumping two gallons of water down the stair case.  Now he is dealing with that.  Looks like the tree goes up tomorrow.

We do have the electric candles in the window.  These are clever battery operated LED lights. They have timers in them we've set to go on at 4:30 pm. They turn off all by themselves at 10:30 pm and then are dark for 18 hours.  We started them before we left for Illinois to make it look like someone was in the house.

So Christmas is coming slowly which is a good thing. I hate to push it. Slow and gentle, that's the holidays for me.

Home for Christmas

One last task before we left.  Every morning while we were there, Gary went across the road to the barn to break the ice in the water tank for the cows who congregated every morning after an evening spent in the creek pasture.

The farmer's father did the same thing but it was cold and the tank kept icing over. Twice a day was better for the cattle. This was the last weekend that the ice had to be cracked.  On Monday, the cows will be hauled away to winter quarters.

We made it back home around 3:00 pm.  We pronounced Thanksgiving over and started thinking about Christmas.  I had a head start with the string of colored lights in my office. They were left over from last Christmas.  I had forgotten all about them. Now they are lit up along the top shelf above my computer monitor, looking festive.

One of the advantages to not being a good housekeeper, I guess.

Tomorrow Gary plans on putting up a Christmas tree.  Last year, he was in Illinois during the Christmas season so I put the tree up myself and then took it down in January. It will be much nicer to do that together.  

Last Day in Illinois

We leave this Illinois farmhouse early tomorrow morning to return to Seymour. We could have left today but there are still some people we want to see, plus Gary and I know better than trying to brave Black Friday traffic combined with a Wisconsin snowstorm.

 

I consider these trips to Illinois as a mini-vacation, but I still managed to get a few things done while here.

First, I put all the depressing Christmas stories together into a manuscript. I am still missing two stories I forgot to bring with me, plus Wade will be adding in some of his short stories. In the end, we will have twelve of these sad tales, so I now am considering Twelve Horrible Days of Christmas as a title.

I put all my addresses into a small address book that I can carry in my purse.

I wrote a post for this blog every day and somehow found places to post them. I didn't think that would happen yesterday since almost everything was closed. However, the Galena Steak House, where we had our Thanksgiving meal, did have wi fi. Today we will go to the Sterling library late this afternoon after all the shoppers have tired themselves out. I will post this story and talk about coming here for a book chat in January.

I wrote a generic Christmas letter. I am not fond of them but this was a crazy year so I put all the writing, travels, camping and possible changes to come in a two page missive and made 30 copies. After I updated my Christmas card list, I addressed and stamped 39 Christmas cards. I still need to write one long letter to a friend and locate two addresses then the whole batch will be mailed on Monday.

With all that, I still had time to relax. I read five books while here. The last one was A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick, a Wisconsin author. I kept telling Gary so much of it sounded familiar and later told him the author must have been reading Wisconsin Death Trip, by Michael Lesy. It's a book that makes my short stories tame because it is a collection of newspaper clippings and photos of Wisconsin at the end of the 19^th century. It is a litany of suicide, epidemics, and murder. I have the book somewhere around my house.

Sure enough, at the end of the book Goolrick give's credit to Lesy's work. It was not the kind of book one should be reading in a farmhouse in the middle of a Midwestern winter. I will pick up something more cheerful for my next read.

We'll be in Wisconsin for another month, then it's back here to Illinois for another week. I'm organizing book talks here.

 

 

Thanksgiving

No big family party today. Instead, Gary and I are going to a dinner buffet at a Dixon, Illinois supper club. It is much simpler this way. As we grow older, fuss and bother are too much for us. We simplify each holiday now.

Gary found an 18 inch Christmas tree somewhere in the farmhouse, something that had been stored away for years. Wonder of wonders, the lights still work. He bought a couple of electronic candles for the front windows, too. Odd how happy the tree and the candles have made me this week. It is the season of darkness and every bit of light helps.

Later I'll take a turkey induced nap as Gary watches some football game. Then I will go back to working on the collection of depressing Christmas stories.

Will this post go out today? Will there be computer access anywhere on Thanksgiving? And will I manage one tomorrow? I avoid Black Friday.

So dear readers, spend these holidays as you wish, be it extravagant or simple. Take time to be happy.

Breakfast in the Farmhouse

I pride myself on getting meals from stove to table piping hot. It isn't that easy in a strange kitchen and this farmhouse kitchen is definitely strange.

This morning Gary demanded a big breakfast. We had half a pound of bacon and half a dozen eggs to use up. There was a potato, too, and Gary dearly loves fried potatoes.

Warning: this is not a heart healthy menu, but we only eat a breakfast like this about four times a year.

The first problem was the bacon. I laid out the pieces in the big frying pan which I put on the big burner on the electric stove. I peeled and sliced the big russet potato and looked for some cooking oil to put in the smaller frying pan. There wasn't any oil. I wound up using butter. As it melted, I noticed the bacon was still raw on the big burner. The burner didn't work. This required moving a coffee maker from a burner on the right side of the stove. That one heated up right away but only when set on high.

Now the butter was melted in the other pan. I threw in the sliced potatoes but set the burner low because the potatoes couldn't be done before the bacon.

The next step was to chop onions to fry with the potatoes. That was when I found out there weren't any onions nor were there any dried onions in the spice cabinet. Gary said he had thrown out all the spices in a fit of clearing. Clearing, after all, is why we are here in Illinois in the first place.

So I progressed to the eggs which cracked nicely and went into a bowl. With only the two pans already on the stove, I figured scrambled was the way the eggs could be fried. I whipped them up with salt and pepper. Usually I would add some mustard, onions and green pepper for a little added zing. We didn't have any of those.

Meanwhile, I kept adjusting the burners under the potatoes and bacon. It was quite some balancing act getting everything cooked properly in the right time span. The bacon was done first but that worked out because I whisked the bacon out of the pan and threw the scrambled eggs into the remaining grease. (Remember, no cooking oil.)

In the end, I managed to get breakfast on the table piping hot and delicious. Now I understand that stove, though I suspect the next big breakfast will be at a campground where I will be cooking over a camp stove. That, at least, I am used to.

The Rug

A decade or so ago, a neighbor spotted a rug in an Oriental motif curbside. She got rid of the smell of cat urine, cleaned it up, then discovered she had no use for it. I did because the dining room carpet had been there for so long it had worn down to the rubber backing. It was already old when I moved in and I never had the money to buy anything to replace it. I put down the Oriental rug to cover the worst of of the spots.

Later, Gary and his nephew painted the dining room, tore up the old carpeting and replaced it with a bigger rug from his home in Menasha with linoleum tiles along the edge.

He moved the Oriental-like rug into my office and for a while, it was under my rolling chair. That constant wear didn't seem to be a good idea to Gary so he replaced the rug with a sheet of plastic to protect the floor. The rug went into my bedroom.

Rugs are one of the dangers to the elderly. I found myself tripping over that rug and after a couple of tumbles decided it was time to put it curbside. It didn't stay there for even an hour before packrat Gary rescued it. He would put it in the storage unit he said.

Last night, I went into the bathroom here in this Illinois farmhouse and tripped over the rug. He had brought the darned thing all the way from Wisconsin.

The idea of these trips to the farmhouse was to get it ready to sell. I took a look around and realized that Gary is throwing things out but he is bringing as many things in. I now understand that selling this place next year may not be possible.

The hoarding continues. I can't win. I may have to rent a storage unit of my own and move in.

Early Morning, Dixon, Illinois

I wake up to sunrise during these days in Illinois. In my Central Wisconsin, I come down to the kitchen for my breakfast in the dark at 6:00 am. Here in Illinois the sun is beginning to come up. I can watch the sun rise as I pot around making tea and toast. There are three reasons for that.

First, we are farther south. By coming here, we've gained at least an extra half hour of sunlight.

Second, the sunrise is not obstructed here. My Wisconsin home is surrounded by houses and trees. I don't see the sun come up until it gets past the obstructions. Illinois has fewer trees and we are out in the country. There are no farm buildings to the east of us.

Finally, the land is flat. Gary informed me yesterday that this farmhouse is on the highest point in Rock County. I laughed at that. In Wisconsin, the highest point in any county is on a high hill or even a mountain. This farmhouse is only on an almost imperceptible slope that comes up from the Rock River. The far away trees along the river are the only indication that there is a change. The treetops are just a fringe in the prairie scenery.

Gary says we can see the lights of Dixon from the farmhouse, but we have to climb up to the second floor to see them.

My mother, who grew up in North Dakota, would love this place. When she moved to Wisconsin she felt claustrophobic. Too many trees, she told me once. That is not a problem here, but I do miss my forests.

***

We have no Internet access in the farmhouse. To post on this blog, I must drive into Sterling or Dixon and do my best to find a hot wi fi spot. Yesterday, a Sunday, I spent half an hour struggling with the McDonald's connection before I could post and I never got around to getting my e-mail or checking on Facebook. Today I will try the library.

First Day - Dixon

This Illinois farmhouse kitchen is not that much different than the one in the house I grew up in. The kitchen cabinets are even older than the ones I knew in Wisconsin, but the wainscoting is the same with the same dark varnish. I expect it was that color to hide the stains of countless toddlers dragging their jam covered hands along the wood. I imagine some of that jam is still in the crevices. At least the painted walls above were kept clean until the children grew tall enough to leave marks there as well.

This morning I sit at the kitchen table writing a post on this notebook computer, though it will not be until later, when we go into town, that I will search out some place with Internet access.

Being here means hours without getting e-mail, without posting on Twitter, without Facebook, without the news, without being able to check my publishing account. I am going through withdrawal.

At least I have books to read, plenty of them, and when I tire of reading, I will go into the dining room to lay out my supplies: stamps, pens, and Christmas cards. By the time we leave here next Saturday, I will have the cards ready to go, save for the ones that will need a Christmas letter or photo inserted. Those will be done back in Seymour.

I brought along my address book which I have not updated, save for crossing names off, since the last century. By Saturday, I will have a new address book, much smaller than the present one.

Before we left yesterday, I put all my Christmas stories on a memory card. I hope to have them all edited by next Saturday.

Once a day, we'll be in Dixon or Sterling so that I can use the Internet. And meanwhile, I will be using this little computer non stop.

I think I will survive until I am home once again with my PC.

On Our Way to Dixon, Illinois

This is an early morning post.  We are about to saddle up for our drive to Dixon, Illinois.

This time around we don't have a router or any other computer hookup at the old farmhouse.  Any posts will require a drive into either Dixon or Sterling to use the library  or have lunch somewhere with an Internet connection.

Life without hourly access to the Internet.  Wow, that is going cold turkey indeed!  And on Turkey Week, too!

The farmhouse is now mostly closed.  Who knows what critters will be lying in wait for us?  We know that squirrels have burrowed into the porch ceiling so a certain amount of skittering and chirping can be expected. We will try to look at this as a camping experience.

New Plans

Early tomorrow Gary and I will pack up and start our drive to Illinois. Tomorrow is also the opening of deer season.  We should be safe driving down the interstate, yet there is always a fear that some incompetent hunter will be shooting in our direction. It is another source of danger in our lives.

We will celebrate Thanksgiving there by stopping at a local restaurant but that's it for the day.  My Thanksgivings are never as bad as the one in my current short story at Black Coffee Fiction  http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/11/thanksgiving.html   but I still like the idea of quiet at the holidays. 

In that farmhouse I will have days and days away from the Internet, away from writing, away from the busy life I have here.  I will be in town once in a while, but it is very possible that I will not be posting every day. 

My apologies but everyone needs a vacation. 

I will be reading.  These are the books I am taking along. 

Friend of My Youth, a collection of short stories by Alice Munro, who won this year's Nobel Prize for Literature.  I am always looking for short story writers to study. 

Open Season, by C. J. Box, the first in the Joe Pickett murder mysteries.  I continue to read mysteries for pleasure but these days I also am looking for technique as I consider writing about violent death.

I saw Deborah Blum, author of The Poisoner's Handbook on a Wisconsin television University of the Air segment. I am thinking of using poison in my next mystery, so I need to read up on the subject.  Gary does not seem to find this upsetting. 

If reading those books seems like a busman's holiday, I have a few others:

A Reliable Wife, by Robert Goolrick, written by a Wisconsin author.  In some ways, that is work related, too, because I want to write a novel about homesteading. 

A non-fiction choice is Thomas Jefferson, by Jon Meacham.  It's unlikely I will get that one finished by the end of the week.  

Farewell to the East End is a memoir by Jennifer Worth, whose tales led to the PBS series, Call the Midwives.  

Aging and Ailments

As the years pass, my body changes and not for the better.

Three weeks ago, I went to the doctor to have a growth of some kind removed from the back of my right arm.  It was in a place I couldn't see so I had no idea how long it had been there. It was hard so I didn't think it was a mole or at least a mole that was behaving as it should.

The nurse practitioner declared it to be a wart, but if so it was a wart that was not behaving as it was. Moles are a virus that usually appear on feet or hands.  How did this one wind up at the back of my arm. The nurse gave it a shot of something to freeze it and I thought that was that.

Then this morning, while taking a shower, I noticed that wart was back.  I was at the clinic office two hours later.  This time the doctor applied frozen nitrogen.  She told me to keep an eye on it, though that means a mirror.  I can't exactly see it otherwise. In another week, I'll have to call her because she said it wasn't acting like a wart.  So if the growth comes back, she'll do a biopsy.  

Just part of aging, I figure.

Besides the matter of a wart, I am drying up, inside and out. These days I have to apply lotion to my body every night to keep peeling skin at bay.  I have to apply ointment to my nose to keep bloody nose that put me in the emergency last year from happening again. My interior is not doing well either.  I drink lots and lots of hot water over the winter to aid digestion.

With all that, I am still healthy.  Everything is working.  I take no medications, over the counter or prescription ... except for an aspirin a day.  So other than warts and dry skin, I guess I am doing OK for a 69 year old woman.

Still, I figure I'd better keep on writing while I can.  

Flu, Insomnia and Christmas Car

Not much to report today.  With a stomach ailment, I was up all night in my office which is situated next to the bathroom.

My mother was an insomniac and spent the night worrying about it.  I try to avoid that, so when I have a very, very rare bad night, I try to get things done. Those tasks can be nothing too demanding, I certainly won't be writing the Great American Novel at 2:00 a.m.

Last night,  I re-did my Christmas card list, a job long overdue, last done in 2005.  I had to remove at least a quarter of the names from the list. Sadly most of those people are no longer alive.

In the old days, I sent between 70 and 80 cards each year.  I've lived so many places in my 69 years. Those once a year Christmas notes kept me in touch of old friends I left behind.

This year there are only 39 cards to make out.  The list will continue to dwindle, I'm afraid, as old friends die. I am making new friends, but the younger crowd send e-mail greetings at the holidays instead of snail mail. I am probably old fashioned but I still prefer getting those lovely cards out of the mailbox on cold and dark December days, putting them in the red ribbonned basket, while remembering with a smile the people who sent them.

Christmas is about memories. Last night's lack of sleep gave me those.