The dog days of summer

published June 28, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

After an early spring, an early summer and an early harvest, it is not surprising that the dog days of summer would also arrive early. As I'm  writing this little essay on Sunday evening, our thermometer has now finally cooled down from a searing high of 115 degrees. Flowers and plants that looked nice this morning when I watered them are now wilted and somewhat scorched. I don't know how anything can be expected to survive this kind of torture, but I certainly hope my air conditioner survives.

According to the dictionary, the "dog days of summer" typically refers to the hottest days of summer, generally late July through August. It derives from ancient times, long before artificial lights and smog, when people had little more to do than study the placement of stars, "connecting the dots" to see pictures in the night sky. The images drawn depended on the culture: the Chinese saw different pictures than the Native Americans, who saw different pictures than the Europeans. We know these pictures in the stars as "constellations," and the constellations that are now mapped out in the sky come from our European ancestors.

So what does the phrase "the dog days of summer" have to do with constellations in the night sky?

Some of those star pictures were bears (Ursa Major and Ursa Minor), twins (Gemini), a bull (Taurus), and dogs (Canis Major and Canis Minor). The brightest star in Canis Major (the big dog) is Sirius which also happens to be the brightest star in the night sky. In fact, it is so bright that the ancient Roans thought that the earth received heat from it. In the summer, Sirius, the "dog star," rises and sets with the sun. During late July, Sirius is in conjunction with the sun and the ancients believed that its heat added to the heat of the sun, creating a stretch of hot and sultry weather. They named this period of time--from 20 days before the conjunction to 20 days after--the "dog days," after the dog star.

Personally I don't believe the dog star or the position of any other star has a thing to do with our current heat wave. But whatever is causing it, I wish it would move on out of here. This is going to get really old if it sticks around for very long. In fact, it's the second definition of dog days which is the one that works best for what we're experiencing right now: "A period of stagnation or inactivity." A few more days of heat like this and we will all be proof of that definition.

My husband and I were finally home this weekend long enough to set up our pool. It took most of the day Saturday to fill the pool, and it would normally take at least a week of hot days for the water to get warm enough to enjoy. But with the temperature so high, the water warmed as it flowed in. As I finish writing this, I have just returned from enjoying the pool with water as warm as a baby's bath, after only one day of heat.

As we bobbed around on our floaties, watching the sun set at the end of this excruciatingly hot day, I was reminded that there is always some good with the bad.

Getting my senses put in order

published June 21, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

 

 

            “I go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” (John Burroughs)

            It was a busy weekend in Stockton and all around. I hear great things from all the Summer Festival activities here in town, but regrettably, we were not here to enjoy any of it. But we were close by, at Webster State Park, where there was also a great deal of activity. Since the first of this year, our youngest son has been planning his birthday celebration–his 30th–and Father’s Day, which happened to fall on the same day this year.         

 

           The very first day this season that reservations could be made at Webster Lake for the two cabins, my son went online and reserved them both for Father’s Day weekend. With that taken care of, the most important prerequisite for carrying out his plan was that he was to become a father, which he did on March 28.

Cabins reserved:  Check.

Earn the title of Father:  Check.

            With those first important items on the plan marked off, all that was left was to wait until the weekend got closer, which it finally did. The fact that it fell on the same weekend as the Summer Festival in Stockton was unfortunate, as we felt like we really missed a lot of fun here in town. But there was a lot of fun going on just a few miles west of here that we wouldn’t have wanted to miss a moment of.

            Rooks Countians have a lot to be proud of in that beautiful gem just eight miles to our west. Clean, well-trimmed, nice camp spots, a beautiful lake, and some really great, friendly folks to ensure everyone has a good time make this a jewel in our county’s crown. Every time I am out there, I totally lose track of time and space, and find myself frequently reminding myself that we are actually just a few miles from home.

            A lot of people out there, however, are not just a few miles from their home. There are many license plates from other counties and other states. This is a huge draw for our county and local economy. Judging by the number of trips my son made back into Stockton to pick up additional supplies, there’s no doubt of its economic value. This is not just for those of us within short driving distance; this is a place we can all be proud to share.

            Kudos to those who work out there to make Webster a place where many people can go for fun, fishing, boating, camping, and family celebrations such as the one we just enjoyed. Although I feel like I now need another day or two to recuperate from all the activity, Webster Lake is also a place to relax, as it is as I quoted above–a beautiful place where nature put our senses in order. However, as I write this on Monday, the day after the weekend before, I am relying on ibuprofen to do the soothing and healing. 



Music on the prairie

published June 14, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            Along with more than 7,000 people, my husband and I took part in a wonderful adventure last Saturday, the 9th, as we hiked out to the middle of a pasture in the Flint Hills for a concert given by the Kansas City Symphony. The event, called “Symphony in the Flint Hills,” was in its seventh year and seventh location in the scenic Flint Hills of east-central Kansas. It was an experience that was as much country hoe-down as it was city high-brow, and one that has to be enjoyed personally to fully appreciate it. Just as a camera cannot fully capture the beauty of the rolling hills, my own words are inadequate to describe the event.

            This was our first year to be in attendance, only because I have not been able to get my hands on tickets in other years. I’ve been on a waiting list for unused tickets and never got lucky that way. But now I’ve got the thing figured out. Since tickets, more than 6,000 of them, sell in a matter of minutes, it is absolutely necessary to either a) go to Kansas City or Wichita where you can camp outside a ticket outlet, assuring your place in line to buy them personally on the day they go on sale; or b) set aside everything you might want to do the opening day of ticket sales and sit at your computer to order online. And order immediately.

            The tickets for this year’s event went on sale Saturday, March 10th at 10:00 a.m. I planned nothing else for that morning other than buying tickets. At about 9:55, I thought I would try to get a jump on it and went to the website, but to no avail; the ticket link went nowhere. Someone, somewhere, was sitting at their computer, waiting to flip the switch on the website to enable the ordering process. So at a minute or so after 10, I refreshed my screen and logged on again, and sure enough – the link was live. By 10:07, I had my tickets purchased! Later, I learned that the event was sold out in about 45 minutes.

            The event was certainly worth the effort (and the cost), and now that I know how it works, I will do it again. That’s what thousands of others are doing also – going again and again. We overheard people talking about how many years they had been attending. It’s just that kind of event – once you attend, it’s in your blood, and you can’t wait for the next one.

            On the flip side, I’m sure there are some who were there who didn’t like it and won’t go back. After all, it was hot, with a strong wind from the south. And there was a lot of dirt, rocks to trip on, chiggers, and tall prairie grasses. There was quite a long hike from the parking area to the entrance gate where everyone could either continue walking another half-mile or catch a ride on a trailer. And everywhere, because of the masses of people, we would wait in line – for food, water or other beverages, or porta-potties. That’s what you’re buying in to, so if you don’t think you could handle it, then don’t go; let someone else have your ticket.

But never, all day long, did I hear a single person complaining about anything. The whole thing was orchestrated so well (pardon the pun), that there was nothing to complain about. Many people are involved in educating and entertaining the masses of people throughout the afternoon. And then the concert begins.

For me, a highlight of the concert came during the playing of “The Cowboys,” the theme song from a movie by the same name, starring John Wayne. About halfway through the song, from over the top of one of the beautiful green hills came a herd of cattle, being driven by a group of cowboys. They moved the cattle right past the band shell/tent, providing a most perfect backdrop for the song. I still get goosebumps as I recall the scene.

All the music of concert was so perfectly selected to fit the venue. The final song of the concert was "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," and near the end of the song, the sun slipped behind the hill in perfect timing. Then as everyone stood for an ovation, the conductor announced that, in keeping with the seven-year tradition of the event, the program would be closed with "Home On the Range," with everyone invited to join in singing. That song has never meant much to me before, but it took on new meaning as the orchestra accompanied more than 7,000 people in singing, as we stood on the beautiful prairieland.

Sitting out there in the beautiful Flint Hills, the largest remaining tract of tallgrass in the world, while experiencing something that doesn't happen anywhere else in the world, I was proud to be an American, but even more so to be a Kansan -- by the grace of God.  

My forgetter's getting better

published June 7, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            Last Monday morning, I hit the snooze alarm a couple of times, as usual, and then got up and started the usual routine. After an exhausting weekend, I had made the decision not to set the alarm for an early morning walk, so the alarm was a little later. I had just finished my shower and was starting the facial reconstruction while listening to the news from the television in the living room, when I heard them talking about Memorial Day. I went out to the living room where Bob was doing his morning exercises and sheepishly said, “I have a holiday today, don’t I.” Bob confirmed that yes, indeed, it was a holiday, and added that he was surprised I was up so early on a holiday. He was wondering if I had someplace to go that he wasn’t aware of, since I had already showered.

            I should be embarrassed to say this to anyone, let alone publish it for my readers. How does a person forget about a holiday, a “day off?” How is it possible that a Monday holiday was just not on my radar? And it’s not that “Memorial Day” was not in my thoughts. Just the day before, we had been around our home area and had placed flowers on the graves of family members. You’d think somewhere along the three-hour drive home I would have been making plans for what I would do on Monday, how I would use my day off. But I don’t recall ever thinking about it. I didn’t think about it the day before, or Sunday night when I switched on my alarm as I went to bed, or as I lay there in the morning, hitting the snooze button over and over.

            I’m worried. I think I’ve picked up speed on the downhill side. This little ditty says it better…

            My forgetter’s getting better, and my rememberer is broke. To you that may seem funny, but to me, that is no joke.

            For when I’m “here” I’m wondering if I really should be “there.” And when I try to think it through, I haven’t got a prayer!

            Oft times I walk into a room, say, “What am I here for?” I wrack my brain, but all in vain–a zero is my score.

            At times I put something away where it is safe, but, gee! The person it is safest from is generally me!

            When shopping I may see someone, say “Hi” and have a chat. Then when the person walks away, I ask myself “Who was that?”

            Yes, my forgetter’s getting better, while my rememberer is broke. And it’s driving me plumb crazy, and that isn’t any joke!

            My next “day off” is the Fourth of July. Would someone please volunteer to call me on the third and let me know I don’t have to set my alarm?

Blonde Cookbook

published May 24, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            For the entertainment value only, and I apologize to my blonde friends! This came with Bob in the story, which makes it even funnier to me since I also cook for a Bob. 

Monday: It’s fun to cook for Bob. Today I made angel food cake. The recipe said beat 12 eggs separately. The neighbors were nice enough to loan me some extra bowls.

Tuesday:  Bob wanted fruit salad for supper. The recipe said serve without dressing. So I didn’t dress. What a surprise when Bob brought a friend home for supper.

Wednesday:  A good day for rice. The recipe said wash thoroughly before steaming the rice. It seemed kind of silly, but I took a bath anyway. I can’t say it improved the rice though.

Thursday:  Today Bob asked for salad again. I tried a new recipe. It said prepare ingredients, then toss on a bed of lettuce one hour before serving. Bob asked me why I was rolling around in the garden.

Friday:  I found an easy recipe for cookies. It said put the ingredients in a bowl and beat it. There must have been something wrong with this recipe. When I got back, everything was the same as when I left.

Saturday:  Bob did the shopping today and brought home a chicken. He asked me to dress it for Sunday. For some reason Bob keeps counting to ten.

Sunday:  Bob’s friends came to dinner. I wanted to serve roast but all I had was hamburger. Suddenly I had a flash of genius. I put the hamburger in the oven and set the controls for roast. It still came out hamburger, much to my disappointment.

Good night, dear diary. This has been a very exciting week. I am eager for tomorrow to come so I can try out a new recipe on Bob. If I can talk Bob into buying a bigger oven, I would like to surprise him with Chocolate Moose.

 

Attitudes are contagious

published May 17, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            I recently attended a housing conference in Wichita and spent a couple of days with a couple hundred other housing managers, going over rules and regs for USDA-Rural Development multi-family housing projects such as the Stockton Housing Authority. I always enjoy these meetings because there is so much to learn and rules change frequently (it is government housing!), and it’s always a good thing to visit with people who have similar situations in their projects. These conferences are a great way to network with others who have been there, done that. Of the conferences I’ve attended on behalf of the housing authority, this conference stood out as the best and most informative, with very relevant information being shared. So it was time and money well spent.

            The highlight at this conference, however, didn’t have anything to do with housing rules, but it addressed something equally important. It had to do with attitude – how people deal with stress, how we face conflict and negative attitudes, and in general, how we choose to go through the day. The presenter was excellent, a wonderful storyteller and motivator. She shared of personal tragedies in her life and some of her most embarrassing moments. In her three-hour presentation, she took us through about every range of human emotion, had us laughing hysterically one moment and biting back tears the next.

            One of her little easy-to-remember acronyms was ANTS – “Automatic Negative Thoughts,” which are countered when you AMP it up by being “Automatically Mentally Positive.” Stop the ANTS!

            You probably know Maxine, the witty cartoon philosopher seen on greeting cards (Hallmark, I think) that’s got an opinion on just about everything and isn’t afraid to share it. According to Maxine, “A day without griping is like a day without talking at all.” Although I always get a chuckle when I read Maxine-isms, I wouldn’t want to spend much time with her if she was a real person. She’s absolutely crawling with ANTS!

            Here’s one final thought, actually a Chinese Proverb: “That the birds of worry and care fly above your head, this you cannot change. But that they build nests in your hair, this you can prevent.” 

            Attitude is contagious… I hope you catch a good one!

To our graduates

published May 10, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            This is an exciting week for almost 30 of our young people in Stockton as they look towards their graduation on Saturday. Parents, on the other hand, have a mixed bag of emotions. How well I remember being in your shoes and looking through the camera lens. You want to be excited and happy – and you are – but there is still a part of you that doesn’t want to let go. One thing is for sure:  for everyone in a graduate’s family, whatever comes next is something new and different. It’s much like turning a page, starting a new chapter or perhaps beginning a new book, only now, our graduates are the authors.

            Thinking about graduation brings to mind a few favorite quotes that I think are appropriate for our graduates. For starters, the late John Wooden said, “It’s what you learn after you know it all that counts.” I’ve met some high school students who try to give the impression they know it all, especially when it comes to their relationship with their parents. They’ll figure out soon enough just how wrong they are and how smart their parents really are. And parents, believe me, you will get smarter as your kids get older. Especially when they have kids of their own.

            Here’s another important thought for our graduates:  “You may not always end up where you thought you were going, but you will always end up where you were meant to be.” This may not make sense to you now, but years up the road, as you look back at your life, you’ll understand. It’s certainly been the story of my life.

             And finally, another quote that means a lot to me because of the path my own life has taken:  “Through our storms, God sends us to a place where we would never land otherwise.” Much like the quote before, yet different because it reminds us that storms are inevitable. I hate to burst your bubble, but life is not all great times and “Kodak moments.” You have yet to experience the reality of too much month left at the end of the money. You will have times when it seems like nothing but dark clouds follow you every day, everywhere. But always remember, even on the cloudiest of days, the sun is still shining. And remember all the people in your life who have helped mold you into the person you are, and draw from those strengths.

            I wish you all the best in your future. But for now, it’s time to celebrate your accomplishments, dear graduates. It’s time to celebrate YOU!

Family, friends and a special day

published May 3, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     As I write this on Sunday evening, April 29th, we have just returned home from Ellis and Hays, after sharing a wonderful family day together. On this day, our 8-year-old granddaughter, Taelyr, a 2nd grader at St. Mary's School in Ellis, received her first communion. Present to witness this beautiful event at St. Mary's Catholic Church were her parents and sisters, grandparents, great-grandparents, a great-aunt and great-uncle who are more like grandparents, her godparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and close friends. By my count, 30 people were there just because of Taelyr. After the service and photo sessions, we all went to our son's home, and were joined there by 11 more people for brunch and an afternoon of visiting.
     Also being celebrated was the 10th birthday of another granddaughter, Taelyr's older sister, Lauryn. We had an abbreviated birthday party before her daddy and Grandpa Bob took her to Fort Hays State University where Lauryn received awards for writing a poem (1st place) and a story (2nd place) that were selected to be published by the Hays Arts Council.
     And last but not least, we celebrated baby Karsyn being one month old! This was made even more important because my parents -- Karsyn's great-grandparents -- had come for Taelyr's celebration and were able to meet and hold Karsyn for the first time.
     We completed this blessed day by cheering for grandson Caleb at his flag football game at Bickle-Schmidt Sports Complex in Hays.
     Today has been a special day for our family, filled with those golden moments that give meaning to life. I know you have days like this, too. But you don't have a column to write about it. Thank you for allowing me to share of my life today -- and each week -- with you.

 Our 8-year-old granddaughter, Taelyr, 

on the occasion of her first communion.

 Granddaughter Lauryn celebrating

her 10th birthday

My parents, Irvin and Elaine Goertzen, with 1-month-old

Karsyn Marie Becker and her parents, Amy and Brett Becker.

Keeping things in perspective

published April 26, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     Recently on an early morning walk, I had the hair-raising experience of being attacked by a large dog. I'm usually out before 6 a.m. on my walk, iPod strapped onto my arm and earplugs stuck in my ears, with some great pulsating music pushing me forward. And I'm deep in thought and oftentimes in prayer, and thinking ahead of what may be on the agenda for the day.
     So it was that morning when I was attacked. I didn't even realize at first that it was a dog because it charged up behind me and I just caught the movement and the thing's shadow. In that nanosecond, my mind--and my heart rate--signaled FEAR, but as I jerked around to see my attacker, I didn't see anything at first. Then I saw him, and oh, my! I was being ankle-chased by a Chihuahua!
     It took another half a block to recover my breath and my heart rate! And when I finally did get myself calmed down, of course I felt pretty silly. No one would have known a thing about this silliness if it hadn't become a source of inspiration for this column. You see, God used the experience of "the large dog that attacked me" to teach me something on that morning walk.
     There are some issues in my life right now that seem large and overwhelming, things over which I have no control. By the time my salk was over that morning, and periodically since then, God has reminded me to look at these issues from a different perspective. Things have a way of seeming huge if they sneak up on me when I least expect them and cause me to react in fear and worry. It is only when I face the fears and place those worries in God's hands that I can relax and get on with my life.
     Instead of reacting in fear to these issues, such as I would to a "big dog," I've turned those worries over to my "Big God." And now I can continue my daily walk.

Working smarter, not harder

published April 19, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     Every once in awhile, a new story is passed along on the Internet that is actually funny. There's generally no way to know the validity of a story, unless it can be checked on Snopes.com; and even then the truty may not be known for sure. This story was passed to me this week -- perhaps to some of you, also. Even if it's not a true story, it's an entertaining story about a man with a plan, and a perfect example of government mismanagement. We in America wouldn't know anything about that.
     The moral of the story is that sometimes it pays to simply work smarter, not harder. I got a chuckle reading this, and I hope you will, too.
     Outside England's Bristol Zoo there is a parking lot for 150 cars and eight buses. For 25 years, its parking fees were managed by a very pleasant attendant. The fees have been 1.40 GBP (Britisih Pounds) for cars and 7 GBP for buses. (With today's conversion rate, that would be $1.58 USD for cars and $11.10 for buses.)
     Then one day, after 25 solid years of never missing a day of work, the parking attendant just didn't show up. So the zoo management called the city council and asked them to send another parking attendant.
     The city council did some research and replied that the parking lot was the zoo's own responsibility.
     The zoo advised the council that the attendant was a city employee.
     The city council responded that the lot attendant had never been on the city payroll.
     Meanwhile, sitting in his villa somewhere on the coast of Spain or France or Who-knows-where, is a man who had apparently installed a ticket machine completely on his own, and then had simply begun to show up every day to collect and keep the parking fees, estimated at about 560 GBP ($888 USD) per day. And it worked for 25 years.
     After never missing a day of work for seven days a week, 52 weeks a year for 25 years, this amounts to just over 7 million pounds (about $12 million USD) ... and no one even knows his name.

Rewards of a simple life

published April 12, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     "To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring -- these are some of the rewards of the simple life."

-- John Burroughs

     We have been gifted with a most glorious spring, albeit a little earlier than usual. It seems that the flowering trees and bushes have just outdone themselves in all their glory. Even though we're probably still lacking moisture, the recent rains have helped to quickly nourish everything. It seems like things have "greened up" overnight.

     After a mild winter, I didn't doubt the groundhog one bit when he and his shadow predicted six more weeks of winter. But we all know his prediction didn't hold any truth, at least not for our part of the country. I haven't heard too many people complaining about the weather at all.

     Just as nature unfolds around us, so do other forms of life. A couple months ago, I wrote in this column about an eagle-cam in Decorah, Iowa, that you could access on the Internet to watch a pair of eagles and their nesting. This has proved to be a fascinating pastime (not that I was looking for another one!), and now three cute little eaglets have hatched to make a family of five. If you missed out on the egg-laying and birthing, you can still follow the actioin as the babies grow and prepare to leave the nest. Just log onto and bookmark this website: http://biggeekdad.com/2011/03/decorah-eagles-webcam/. It's particularly fun now to watch the feeding process with three hungry little beaks vying for the morsels of food delivered by the parents. 

     While keeping an eye on the eagle-cam, I learned that the gestational period for the eagle's eggs is 35 days. But during the same time period, I came across some other miracle match facts that explain the hatching of eggs. For example, the eggs of the potato bug hatch in seven days; those of a canary in 14 days; eggs of a barnyard hen in 21 days; eggs of ducks and geese in 28 days; eggs of a mallard, like the eagle, at 35 days; eggs of a parrot and ostrich in 42 days. Notice how they are all divisible by seven, the number of days in a week. Of course, the gestational period for humans follows the same pattern, being 252 days -- also divisible by seven -- for 36 weeks. God's Miracle Math 101.

     I also wrote recently that my husband and I were eagerly waiting for the coming of spring because it would coincide with the coming of another granddaughter. And that has happened now, too; and I must say, she is just perfect and so sweet. I just don't think there are enough positively wonderful, precious, beautiful and adorable adjectives to describe grandchildren!

     Spring is such a wonderful time of birth; there are signs of new life all around us. We have only to be aware... and be in awe. It's the perfect time of year to reap the rewards of a simple life! 

A texting primer

published March 29, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     In January, I wrote about my new smart phone that was outsmarting me. Well, since then Miley and I have become great friends, and she goes with me everywhere. More than a phone, she is a camera, a camcorder, a palm-sized Kindle, an alarm clock. She reminds me of appointments and birthdays or other special occasions. She keeps me entertained by playing Words With Friends and Solitaire. And of course, she helps me keep up with my Facebook friends, emails and text messaging.
     I was thrilled to come across the following list of texting codes - you know, those abbreviated things like LOL (short for "laughing out loud") or BFF (best friends forever"), only these codes have been adapted for those of us who qualify for the senior discount at Kentucky Fried Chicken. Not all of these apply to me yet, but I plan to keep the list around, just in case.
   
     ATD: At The Doctor
     BFF: Best Friend's Funeral
     BTW: Bring The Wheelchair
     CBM: Covered By Medicare
     CUATSC: See You At The Senior Center
     FWTW: Forgot Where I Was
     FWICHF: Forgot What I Came Here For
     GGLKI: Gotta Go, Laxative Kicking In
     GGPBL: Gotta Go, Pacemaker Battery Low
     GHA: Got Hearburn Again
     WMHO: Where's My Hearing Aid?
     LMDO: Laughing My Dentures Out
     LWO: Lawrence Welk's On
     OMMR: On My Massage REcliner
     OMSG: Oy My! Sorry, Gas
     ROFL-CGU: Rolling On the Floor Laughing, Can't Get Up
     TTYL: Talk To You Louder
     WAITT: Who Am I Talking To?
     WTP: Where's The Prunes?
     WWNO: Walker Wheels Need Oil

Hope these help! Let me know if you have some other good ones to use!

A powerful little prefix

published March 22, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     During this Lenten season, I have spent a considerable amount of time thinking about a prefix - the two-letter prefix "re-." According to the dictionary, the prefix "re" means "again, anew." Those two little letters have come to have a lot of meaning for me during Lent, as I have made a collection of words that begin with that prefix. Words that speak of the opportunity for a "do over," to do something again, anew.
     Perhaps you haven't thought about this as deeply as I have, so let me guide your thinking for a moment. There are many words that, when you put the prefix re- in front of the word, mean to do the action of that word again, do it anew, do it over. For example, the word "refill" simply means to fill again. The word "renew" obviously means to make something new again. But when I spend time throughout my day thinking about the words "refill" and "renew" in the context of Lent, they become spiritual words that guide my Lenten journey.
     If you catch my drift by now, let me suggest a few of the other re- prefix words that have made my list during Lent: reclaim, recommit, reconfirm, reconsider, recreate, redeliver, reexamine, reform, refresh, reincarnation, reinvigorate, rejuvenate, rekindle, relive, remake, remodel, replant, repurpose, restore, retell, review.
     As if that's not enough food for thought, there are many other words that begin with the letters "re" but which do not have the meaning of the prefix. For instance, "redemption" doesn't mean "demptioin anew" any more than "relent" means to do Lent over again. However, both of these re- words are fitting reflections (get it") leading towards Easter.
     So for the half-dozen or so of you who are still with me at this point, here are some more words that begin with re- for you to repeat as you relate them to Lent: rebuke, receive, redeemed, redeemer, refine, reflect, refrain, refuse, regret, reject, rejoice, relax, release, religion, relinquish, remain, remember, remorse, renounce, repent, replenish, report, require, resist, resolve, respect, respond, restrain, revere, reverse, revile, revival, revoke.
     This little exercise has been a meaningful reflection for me during Lent. It's not required, but if you can relate to this in any way, or if you receive a revival from it, please respond to me in that regard and retell it to a friend.

Pets-r-us

published March 15, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     One of the things I do at the Sentinel every week is to scan through all the area and other Kansas newspapers to summarize a few stories into tidbits for our section called Kansas Klips. Some weeks it's pretty slim pickin's (but you already know that!). Occasionally, however, there are some really cool stories to pass along. This week, I came across a story that fostered inspiration for my Notes.
     Like many of you, I have pets at my house that are well-fed and pampered, just two more mouths in the family to feed. I grew up on a farm and have always had animals around me. (When we were engaged to be married, my mom made sure Bob understood that he was getting not only me, but my cat, too!) I'm sure that if I lived in the country, I would own more than one dog and one cat. Because I love animals, I also enjoy reading good stories about them. This story came from The Oberlin Herald. It is the story of a little piggy that did not go to market. The only thing missing from the story is how the little oinker got her name, but I bet it has something to do with the time of year she fell out of a truck and landed in the life of a woman from Dresden, Kansas. 
     April Maye is not just any pig. She fell out the back of a hog transport when she was just a wee piglet and had the good fortune of being rescued by a woman from Jennings, who - even though she knew she couldn't raise the little porker - knew womeone who could. She called on Jacque Douglas, the relief postmaster in Jennings, who has a reputation for being an animal rescuer. Jacque and Allan Hill, transplants from eastern Kansas, live in Dresden with a menagerie that includes "fainting" goats, pygmy goats, a regular goat, ducks, dogs of all breeds and sizes, bantam chickens, white silkie chickens, cats, a pet mouse, and, of course, April Maye, the pig. April Maye doesn't know she is a pig, however.
     Weighing less than 10 pounds when she first joined the family, April Maye thrived on calf milk replacement, and in no time at all, she doubled her size. About that time, she got moved from a box on the back porch to a fenced-in area in the back yard. But the friendship was already bonded. All Jacque had to do was shistle, and April Maye would come running.
     Once, when April Maye weighed about 45 pounds, she was standing by an ant hill in the back yard. Allan said April Mae suddenly started squealing and running around the yard, dragging one of her hind legs. "Jacque started yelling, 'Come quick! April's pulled a hammie,'" he recalled. But April Maye wasn't hurt; she just got bit by an ant.
     A picky eater, April Maye liked her milk and didn't want to give it up. She turned up her nose, or rather, her snout, at pig pellets. It took some time, but they finally got her settled in to a diet of whole corn and dogfood. Jacque said when she started her on ear corn, April Maye developed a quirky little habit of eating the cob clean, then piling the "empties" in a corner of her pen. She pulled the same trick with her food dishes. Jacque said April Maye stacks the dishes, smallest to largest in the corner, ready to be washed. A good housekeeper, by hog standards at least. She keeps her trough slicked clean.
     That might explain her portly physique. By all estimates, April Maye - now almost two years old - tips the scales at a whopping 700 pounds. That's everyone's best guess, anyway. Jacque would like to get April Maye weighed, but she doesn't have a trailer, and walking April Maye the two blocks to the Coop scales doesn't really seem like an option.
     When asked if they ever eat any of the animals they raise, Jacque said, "Oh my, no! I couldn't eat somebody I named!"
     So it looks like April Maye can live out her years with nary a care, other than who will scratch her back and when will supper be served.

    

Of Sears and more

published March 8, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     Since my story last week about the endangered species many of us have known as Sears, I have heard from several people who also have fond memories of the Sears (and J.C. Penney) catalog. It wasn't just me who loved pulling the large catalog out of the mailbox; many of you have similar stories of delight. I also received confirmation from some of you that, yes, the catalog did indeed make it to the outhouse, but not for its entertainment factor.
     So that got me to thinking about some other cool things that are no longer good for anything but determining that I'm older than dirt. Here's a list to check your own age:
     Headlight dimmer switch on the car floor
     Ignition switch on the dashboard
     Using hand signals when driving the car
     Crank-style telephone (we were something like 'one long and two short')
     Telephone switchboard operators who connected your call
     Neighborhood party line for the phone
     Diners with tabletop juke boxes
     Stingray bicycles with banana seats and sissy bars
     Candy cigarettes
     Soda pop machines that dispensed glass bottles
     Returning soda pop bottles for "return" change
     Bronze- and silver-colored, metal ice trays with a lever to pop out the ice
     Blue flashbulbs
     110 cameras
     Mimeograph machines (and the smell of the copies)
     S&H Green Stamps
     Sprinkler stopper to put in pop bottle (used to 'sprinkle' clothes when ironing)
     Home delivery of milk in glass bottles
     Blackjack chewing gum
     45 rpm records
     Hi-Fi (rhymes with, but had nothing to do with Wi-Fi!)
     TV test patterns that came on after the last show and were there until TV shows started again in the morning
     Only three TV channels (if you were lucky!)
     The 'Star Spangled Banner' played at midnight, or whenever the TV station went off the air
     Drive-in movie theater
     Washtub wringers
     Metal drinking cups
     Pong game

The decline of an icon

published March 1, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

Sears just announced that it will be closing more of its retail stores due to devastating fourth quarter losses through the holiday season. These store closings include some K-Mart stores, which were merged with Sears in 2005. As these stores fade away, we will lose another icon that many of us grew up with. It was always an exciting day when a Sears catalog came in the mail. In winter, it was like a breath of fresh air when the spring and summer catalog came, as if to bring with it a promise that we really would wear shorts, tank tops and sandals again.

Those catalogs were like a household staple, having many uses. When I was growing up, and even when my boys were little, we didn't have booster seats at the dinner table -- we had Sears catalogs. There were thick J.C. Penny catalogs, too, so depending on how big or little the kid was, we stacked catalogs two- or three-high as necessary. Then we tied a tea towel around the chair and the waist of the youngster so he wouldn't slide off the catalog/booster chair. Just try to adjust the height of your kids' booster chairs now!

Stories were told of the Sears catalog finding its way to the outhouse, too, but that didn't happen in my day. I might be old, but in my lifetime, I've never used anything other than toilet paper; thank you, very much.

A quick Internet research of the company's' history reveals a long and storied life for Sears, which got its official start as the R.W. Sears Watch Company in 1886. The first catalog, which came out in 1887, featured jewelry and other products. In 1893, the business became Sears, Roebuck and Co., and a year later, they put out a large, 322-page catalog that included sewing machines, bicycles, sporting goods, and a host of other new items. In 1895, dolls, icebox refrigerators, cook stoves and groceries debuted in an even larger catalog.

In the early 1900s, Sears offered a "Modern Homes" catalog. Entire homes would arrive by rail, and include everything from the precut lumber, nails and varnish, to such fine details as carved staircases, screened-in front porches, and "modern" baths. It was reported that more than 100,000 houses were sold between 1908 and 1940 through Sears' Modern Homes program, making an indelible mark on the history of American housing. At its peak, there were 447 different designs, all of which could be modified in numerous ways, such as reversing floor plans, or building with brick instead of wood siding. It is unknown how many of Sears' Modern Homes are still in use.

Throughout the span of its history, Sears has suffered through other times of financial crisis, but the company has always reorganized, rebounded, and come back with something to save it from total demise. Perhaps it will happen again, but I rather doubt it. I think Sears will become another relic of the past, just like me.

Rock chalk

published February 23, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

Last Saturday, we spent the evening with about 17,000 of our friends, and wow! It was a blast! I call them friends, not because we personally know each other, but because we were all at the same place at the same time and for the same reason. There may have been less than twenty people there whose names I know, but for the time we were together, we were united for one purpose. And for the most part, we were dressed in similar fashion, wearing much the same color. The noise level was at times almost unbearable. At one point, the noise-o'meter registered 104 decibels, far surpassing the point where permanent damage could occur.

You see, Saturday we traveled to Lawrence and entered the shrine known as Allen Fieldhouse on the campus of the University of Kansas. We try to attend at least one basketball game each season, and this time we took our oldest son, Chris, and his wife, Brandy, who had never been to a KU game before. This was a Christmas present from Brandy to Chris, and we were pleased to be invited to join them. Actually, if I remember correctly, we kind of invited ourselves. Out of parental concern, of course. It just would be right to send our children out into such wild and crazy territory without being there with them.

So with our grandchildren taken care of by their other grandma, and our dogchild in the capable care of our friends at CVS, we headed out early Saturday morning. We wouldn't have needed to leave that early in the day for an evening game, but Brandy and I needed a little retail therapy. Downtown Lawrence was unbelievably crowded as a large percentage of the 17,000 people we were going to spend the evening with had the same itinerary as ours. The downtown stores must love home games.

Finally it was time to join the throng and head to the arena. Even though we arrived more than an hour early, there was a long line of people waiting to enter. The excitement cranked up several notches, but nothing could compare to the excitement once we had climbed to our seats, almost in the rafters. In order to find four seats together, even several months ago when we purchased the tickets, we had to settle for seats in the nosebleed section. Just slightly above the reach of the t-shirt shooter, but otherwise okay; there is no such thing as a bad seat in Allen Fieldhouse.

I know many of you wear purple and cheer wildly for another Kansas team. We watch and cheer for your team, too. You've got your "Octagon of Doom," and it's incredible. We've been to a couple of games in the octagon. One time when we were there, dressed in crimson and blue and feeling extremely out of place, most of the folks dressed in purple were still friendly to us. In the end, the crimson and blue team won, so we were dressed appropriately, after all. In all fairness, we were at Allen Fieldhouse one time when the team wearing purple won, and we were friendly to their outnumbered fans.

My husband and I don't have a vested interest in either team. Mostly, we just like good basketball, whoever is playing and whatever color they are wearing. Actually, the college we attended and Bob's alma mater, Wichita State, may come up through the ranks and beat them all! We're getting close to March Madness, the most exciting time of the year, and anything can happen. Rock Chalk.

Yearbook memories

published February 16, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            Sunday’s Salina Journal featured a number of stories submitted by readers who shared their tales of romance. I enjoyed reading these stories and appreciate that so many people took the time to write them and send them to the newspaper. Perhaps we should try something like that here at the Sentinel!

            Since much of my life right now centers around producing the 2012 Stockton High School yearbook, I was particularly interested to read a romance story that began on the pages of a yearbook. The story was written by Betty Price-Keeler, a Salina woman, who has been married for three years to a friend who wrote in her yearbook 64 years ago. At that time, World War II was raging, and a handsome friend who was attending college with her wrote a full page in her high school yearbook before he left to serve in the Navy. At the end of the message he wrote, “I will be back!” Mrs. Price-Keeler said they lost touch and she had married a hometown boy who was also leaving for the war. They had a lovely life together, which lasted over 60 years and, sadly, ended in his death. Six years later, while visiting someone in a retirement home, she happened to meet a lady who had the same last name as the boy who had written in her yearbook. She commented about that, and the lady said that man was a relative of hers. He was living in California and had lost his wife after 60 years of marriage. She offered to get his phone number for Mrs. Price-Keeler, who then called him and asked if he remembered her. He certainly did, and that first phone conversation led to their marriage three years ago. She said that, 64 years later, he turned the page in that same yearbook and wrote the message, “I told you I would be back!”

            While I don’t have any endearing messages such as that in any of my high school yearbooks, those books are precious to me, and I’m glad to have books from all four years. I have made notes in them as classmates or other friends got married, and kept many clippings pressed between the pages of high school friends in the news. I have also recorded the early and untimely deaths of several of our classmates.

            My husband and I were classmates – high school sweethearts. Our senior year, I was the yearbook editor and he was my business manager. Our yearbook will always be special because, even though we didn’t know it at the time, it became a chronicle of our first year together. A year after we graduated from high school, he married his editor, and after 38 years of marriage, he is still my business manager!

            While working on the SHS yearbook this year, I discovered that only about one-third of our high school students usually buy the yearbook, and I think that is really sad. We have discovered boxes full of books from past years, and we have marked these down in price in an effort to get them into the hands of those pictured in the books. These yearbooks should not go to the landfill! If anyone reading this did not buy a yearbook “way back then,” please call the high school or talk to me or Susan Schneider. We’ll try to give you a second chance to buy your yearbook. Everyone should have all four yearbooks of their high school life, and at the very least, their graduating year.

            And for all students currently in high school, especially the class of 2012, please order your Tiger yearbook! You may not think you need it, but you never know who you may want to reconnect with 60 years from now.

A view from the nest

published February 9, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

This week, I'm taking you all to Decorah, Iowa, and we're going to climb to a high branch of a cottonwood tree overlooking a farm and fish hatchery. Once we get ourselves perched up there on a branch, we will be able to watch in awe as a couple of lovebirds -- actually two beautiful bald eagles -- remodel their home from a year ago, hopefully preparing for new additions to their family.

Afraid of heights? Can't get away from your job or other responsibilities? Not a problem. All you have to do is go to a computer near you, and log on to the webcam that is filming this extraordinary sight for everyone to watch. But I'm warning you: it is as addictive as the chocolate chip cookies I'm eating as I write this story.

Just like staying at home for the best view of the Super Bowl game, watching the eagles through the eyes of the webcam gets you up-close-and-personal. You literally feel like you are on a branch right beside the nest. In fact, I had to keep telling myself that I would not scare them away if I moved! Even as much as I use the computer, things like this still amaze me -- that from anywhere in the world, anyone can type a few keystrokes on a computer and find themselves perched high in a cottonwood tree in Iowa, watching on of the most fascinating miracles of nature.

A group of volunteers mans "missioni control" in a garage located near the tree. The camera is equipped with night vision, so the nest can be watched at any hour. Periodically, the volunteer "panners" change the view of the camera to show the eagles perched on other branches of the tree, or show the farmyard and surrounding area.

One morning last week while I was watching, one of the eagles carried a small rabbit up to the nest. I haven't learned yet how to tell the difference between the male and female eagle, but the eagle that delivered the meal squawked to let the other eagle know that lunch was ready. The second one came and plucked the fur from the animal and devoured it. It was fascinating, but not always pleasant to watch.

Last April, millions of viewers watched as three eaglets hatched from their eggs in this very nest. Hopefully this spring will provide a repeat performance. I knew my parents would love seeing this, but when I emailed them about it, my dad was way ahead of me. They had watched the whole thing with last year's hatch!

If you are interested in joining me in the cottonwood tree, just Google: "Decorah Eagles Webcam." Choose the biggeekdad.com website, and you will be directed to the live streaming video. Click on the triangle to start the live streaming. If you click on the black rectangle at the bottom right corner of the picture frame, the view will expand to the full size of your monitor. You'll have to put up with occasional advertisements, but that's a small price to pay for the free show you get to see.

Come along and join in the watch. I'll save you a spot on my branch!

Hymns by occupation

published February 2, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     If you know me at all, you know that music is my passion, and especially hymns and other sacred music. So it should not surprise you that one of my favorite clippings is a list of hymns associated with occupations. It's been around a time or two, but I always enjoy reading these again. And so, I share this list with you, author unknown.

Dentist's Hymn...Crown Him With Many Crowns
Weatherman's Hymn...There Shall be Showers of Blessings
Contractor's Hymn...The Church's One Foundation
The Tailor's Hymn...Holy, Holy, Holy
The Golfer's Hymn...There Is a Green Hill Far Away
The Politician's Hymn...Standing on the Promises
The Optometrist's Hymn...Open My Eyes That I Might See
The IRS Agent's Hymn...I Surrender All
The Gossip's Hymn...Pass It On
The Electrician's Hymn...Send the Light
The Shopper's Hymn...Sweet By and By
The Realtor's Hymn...I've Got a Mansion Just Over the Hilltop
The Massage Therapist's Hymn...He Touched Me
The Doctor's Hymn...The Great Physician

     And for those who speed on the highway, think about these hymns as you go along your merry way.

45 mph...God Will Take Care of You
65 mph...Nearer My God to Thee
85 mph...This World is Not My Home
95 mph...Lord, I'm Coming Home
100 mph...Precious Memories

Anticipating Spring's blooms

published January 26, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     When I was a little girl, one of the best days of the year was the day the J.C. Penney Christmas catalog came in the mail. For days and weeks after that, I would pour through the pages of dolls and other toys, making lists of wishes, circling special selections and folding over corners of pages. There was no better way to spend a cold winter night. Long after Christmas had come and gone, I kept the Christmas catalog near and dear, still dreaming of new members for my little doll family or play dishes or other new toys.
     My husband would add here that I still fold over pages in catalogs; however, now my favorite catalogs are of a much different nature. I'll admit to that, especially since it's usually meant to catch his attention anyway.
     The wish book-type catalogs no longer stuff a mailbox after Christmas. But it's at this dismal, frigid time of the year when nothing makes a mailbox glow with warmth more than a seed and plant catalog. In the thick of winter, just when we think we can't take it anymore, a flower catalog in the mail brings a breath of warm, sweet air and reminds us that spring really does follow winter, and this, too, shall pass.
     So now that I'm just a little older, instead of folding down the corner of the page or circling pictures of new dolls, I can sit for hours with a plant catalog, envisioning gardens, flowerbeds and other landscape areas, both at home and at the apartment complex.
     And as I page through the plant catalogs, trying to warm myself with happy thoughts of spring, there's one thought that tops them all. About the time spring bulbs are forcing their way through the still-chilled ground, we anticipate the arrival of another granddaughter, adding to the already sweet bouquet of five other grandchildren. She is already loved and welcome, even though we have not yet held her in our arms, and she is a thought happy enough to warm even the coldest of winter days!

Word plays

published January 19, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

     I love word plays, but there's no way I could have come up with the following list. This is an interesting list of words that, when you rearrange the letters, form other words that are related to the first. If that doesn't make sense, you'll understand when you read the list. You'll also agree with me that someone, somewhere, has way too much spare time on their hands or is deadly at Scrabble. Go ahead and check to make sure, but each one correctly rearranges the letters.

          dormitory = dirty room
          astronomer = moon starer
          the eyes = they see
          desperation = a rope ends it
          the morse code = here come dots
          slot machines = cash lost in me
          animosity = is no amity
          election results = lies - let's recount
          snooze alarms = alas! no more z's
          a decimal point = I'm a dot in place
          the earthquakes = that queer shake
          eleven plus two = twelve plus one

     If you happen to come up with any others, let me know! And if you have the time to sit and work on something like this, let me know that, too, because I've got some things you could do for me in your spare time -- like taking down my Christmas tree, for starters!


               

I'm getting smarter, and Miley gets to stay

published January 12, 2012

in the Stockton Sentinel

Stockton, Kansas

            It’s been a good week in smart phone land. After writing last week of woes with my new phone, and admitting to all my readers that I am not smarter than my smart phone, I want you to know that I’ve learned a few things this week and it may get to live after all.

            I don’t spend a lot of time with the gadget like some folks who you cannot carry on a conversation with unless you accept the fact that their phone is more important than you are. I am capable of shopping for groceries totally on my own without calling my husband for help in choosing a breakfast cereal. And I prefer to drive while listening to music or an audio book rather than visiting on my phone.

            And contrary to comments some people say about their own phones, I could live without my phone.

            But having a phone that is really like a midget computer in my pocket is extremely convenient, but only if I know how to use it.

            That’s why I was amused to read the story in the Salina Journal Sunday entitled “Technically Speaking.” The Salina Public Library’s tech trainer, Randy Merrell, gave a couple of “Holiday Tech” classes designed to teach people how to use the new gadgets they received as Christmas gifts. Merrell’s computer help classes at the library typically target a single device or operation. But the holiday classes were aimed at folks befuddled with any electronic devices. In one class, almost a dozen people showed up with their new Kindles, iPads, laptops and digital cameras.

            And so, in walked 74-year-old Betty Wiegert, with her Motorola Zoom, a computer tablet given to her by her son and daughter-in-law. “I have no idea what to do with the thing,” she said. “I’m really not a computer person, but I figured if they got it for me, I should learn how to use it.” She said she once mentioned how nice it would be if she could stay in contact with family members over the Internet. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut,” Wiegert said jokingly, as she stared at the Zoom’s fold-out operating instructions. “I suppose a 3-year-old could do it, but I don’t understand any of it.”

            In the class, Merrell demonstrated the features of Wiegert’s touch-screen tablet, walked her through the WiFi connection process, how to post messages on Facebook, and what the various symbols mean and how to use them. By the end of the class, Wiegert may have been overwhelmed, but there’s a good chance she had learned more than she realized. Hopefully she is now able to converse with her family as they had hoped.

            As for me and my smart phone, without spending a lot of time, I try to learn one new thing about it every day. Although I could live without it, I do take it with me wherever I go and miss it when I don’t have it. I’ll probably never use all the whistles and bells that it is capable of delivering, but I am confident I will reach a point where I’m able to do whatever I need to do.

            We’ve becoming friends, my smart phone and I, and I think she and I are going to get along just fine. Yes, “it” is definitely a “she;” I’ve named her Miley (short for Milestone). And now she’s been fitted with a sexy, black polka-dot outfit. It’s the least I can do after saying such disparaging things about her when I first adopted her.