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Having recently been invited by a dear friend to spend a week at a beautiful cabin on the North Shore of Lake Superior, I’m reminding ...

Thursday, August 30, 2012

GETTING A LITTLE PRESIDENTIAL--HUMOR+


Every four years Americans head to the polls in early November to elect a president.  Some of us get inspired by those running for office, while others get completely “turned off.” We’re now in the midst of two political conventions and I thought a little humor and anecdotal history seemed appropriate, as well as a chance to dial down the intensity a little. I also enjoy sharing the “human side” of past presidents and their sometimes chaotic lives and surroundings.

One thing that most of them had in common was a love of animals, starting with George Washington.  He even brushed his horses’ teeth, but unfortunately he had a lot of trouble with his own.

President Theodore Roosevelt

Thomas Jefferson had bears that lived on the White House Grounds, which were brought back by the explorers Lewis and Clark.  Theodore Roosevelt was a big game hunter, but he drew the line at shooting a bear cub. For that wisdom, the Teddy Bear was named after him. TR was an amateur ornithologist, who even wrote a bird-watching book.

President Calvin Coolidge

There’s an amazing list of animals that made their way to the White House, including alligators, donkeys, horses, birds, snakes, elephants, dogs, cats, a pet bobcat, and a wallaby.  Our thirtieth president, Calvin Coolidge seemed far more comfortable around animals than people.  He once had twelve dogs, including a terrier named Peter Pan and a sheepdog named Calamity Jane.  In addition, he also owned a donkey, a bear, a lion cub, raccoons, and a wallaby.  He wasn’t quiet around animals, but to Americans he became known as “Silent Cal.”  A woman at a White House Dinner had once made a bet that she could get him to say more than two words. His response to her was, “You lose.”  One of his famous lines was, “I’ve never been hurt by anything I didn’t say.”  (That's an important thought to remember since I’ve had a few of those oops moments).

President Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Franklin Roosevelt was also a big dog lover, having had seven of them.  He didn’t go as far as his mother, Sara Delano Roosevelt, however; she enjoyed sending postcards to her dogs. FDR and Lyndon Johnson would have had a lot to talk about; LBJ was fond of beagles and had ones named Him and Her. John F. Kennedy even had a dog from Soviet Premier Kruschchev, which was given to his daughter Caroline after the Cuban Missile crisis. 

President Grant loved horses and had many of them, but he once got a speeding ticket while riding a horse.  It cost him $20 and his horse and buggy.  He did get his exercise however, since he had to walk home.

Our tenth president, John Tyler was a proud father with eight sons and seven daughters.  He gave numerous White House parties, which included his children, grandchildren, and friends.  Teddy Roosevelt was an easy going father with six children and they could often match him in energy.  One thing they had fun doing, besides playing with the exotic animals at the White House,  was sliding down the White House staircase on cookie sheets. 

Some presidents were brilliant and scholarly, while others had no interest or opportunity for education.  Andrew Johnson, president following Lincoln’s death, never went to school, but his wife taught him to read, write, and do math.  He did know how to sew and worked in a tailor’s shop as a 12-year old. 

President Garfield

President Garfield, on the other hand, learned to read at three and became a college president.  He could write in a different language with each hand, including Greek and Latin, astonishing many people who were lucky enough to observe him.

William Henry Harrison, our ninth president, wanted to be a doctor, but ran out of money.  Sadly, being president never worked out for him either.  On his cold and rainy inaugural day, he neglected to wear a coat or hat and came down with pneumonia not long after his lengthy speech.  He died thirty-one days later.

President John Quincy Adams

Some presidents loved their time in the White House, while others hated it.  James Buchanan, our fifteenth president once said, “If you are as happy, my dear sir, on entering this house as I am in leaving it, you are the happiest man in the country.”  John Quincy Adams once expressed similar sentiments.  He also had an unusual experience during his time in the White House.  He enjoyed swimming in the Potomac River early every morning and always hung his clothes up while he went for a dip.  Unfortunately, they were once stolen and a young boy passing by had to scurry to the White House to fetch him some new ones.  Different times for sure!

Presidents also had plenty of other dislikes.  George Washington hated Tuesdays because it meant shaking hands after a dinner and reception.  To avoid shaking hands, he held his hat in one hand and put his other hand on his sword.  He just gave his reception guests a simple bow.  He didn’t like stuffy affairs.

Andrew Jackson was less than thrilled with his own inauguration party because of the thousands of wild and crazy fans who poured into the White House. He had to slip out and spend the night in a hotel.  He was a common man who became wildly popular, but still was the target of an assassin.  Luckily the guns misfired and Jackson chased the man, shaking his cane. 

President Lincoln with Tad

President Lincoln disliked being called Abe.  His friends and family called him Mr. Lincoln or just Lincoln. He adored his children,however, and was very laid back with them.  One year he pardoned the turkey that was set to be Christmas dinner, when his son Tad pleaded with him to save it. 

And of course George Bush Sr. is well known for his dislike of broccoli.  He once said, “I’m the president of the United States and I’m not going to eat any more broccoli.”

Harry Truman liked music, but not rock ‘n roll.  He once described it as “this damn noise they play today.” 

Lyndon Johnson seemed to like being president less and less as time went on.  He once commented, “Being president is like being a jackass in a hailstorm.  There’s nothing to do but to stand there and take it.”

Chester Arthur, our twenty-first president made an unwise decision during his presidency.  He sold twenty-four wagonloads of presidential furniture and belongings.  I guess he didn’t conceive of the priceless nature of the items.  I wonder if any of them are around today.

Warren G. Harding, not a particularly hard-working president, who was more known for scandal during his administration, once gambled away a set of White House china.

And who could guess that something seemingly healthy like eating a big bowl of cherries and drinking a pitcher of iced milk on a hot day could prove costly?  Zachary Taylor, our twelfth president made that mistake and died five days later of either heat stroke or food poisoning.

But there are great traditions that were started during the terms of different presidents.  John Adams believed in celebrating July Fourth with “games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations.” (fireworks)  Ironically, he and Thomas Jefferson both died on the Fourth of July, a few hours apart. 

William Howard Taft, our twenty-seventh president started the tradition of throwing out the first ball at baseball games.  He also inadvertently started baseball’s seventh-inning stretch.  The crowd followed his unplanned stretching movement and turned it into a tradition.

And of course presidents had dreams as children.  George W. Bush once wanted to be a professional baseball player and when he became part-owner of the Texas Rangers, he had baseball cards made of himself. 

LBJ no doubt wished that his report card as an eight-year old had been just a little different.  He excelled in everything except his behavior, where he received a C+.

Finally, I want to share some little known facts and quotes about our presidents. Did you know that the Baby Ruth candy bar was not named after Babe Ruth?  It was actually to honor Grover Cleveland’s popular daughter. Who would have guessed!  Or that FDR was related by blood or marriage to eleven other presidents.  He was quite a superstitious president as well, never wanting to sit at a table with thirteen people.

FDR’s wife Eleanor loved flying and she flew extensively before she became First Lady.  She once flew with Amelia Earhart over the Capitol at night. Eleanor also received over 250,000 letters a year as First Lady and was more than likely to answer those who wrote.

Here are some additional presidential words of wisdom:

            “You ain’t nothin’ when you’re talkin.’  (Lyndon Johnson)

            “Politics is not a bad profession.  If you succeed, there are many rewards.  If you disgrace yourself, you can always write a book.”  (Ronald Reagan)

            “My experience has taught me that a man who has no vices has damned few virtues.  (Lincoln)

            “Common-looking people are the best in the world.  That is the reason the Lord made so many of them.”  (Lincoln)

            “Always be sincere, even if you don’t mean it.”  (Harry Truman)

President Truman with his wife Bess, on their wedding day

            “Children and dogs are as necessary to the welfare of this country as Wall Street and the railroads.”  (Harry Truman)


President Eisenhower

            “I’m saving that rocker for the day when I feel as old as I really am.”  (Dwight Eisenhower)

And now, to get many of us through with added good humor until that eventful  day in early November, here are a few unusual thoughts:

            “George Washington would be very proud to know that we celebrate his birthday every year with a mattress sale.”  (Robert Klein, American comedian)

            “I don’t know a lot about politics, but I know a good party man when I see one.”  (Mae West, American actress).

Monday, August 27, 2012

BLAME IT ON THE LICORICE!


 
That little corner grocery store a block away from my elementary school and another block from home had the most amazing array of licorice—strawberry, cherry, spearmint, chocolate, and of course black.  Sometimes if you got there on a lucky day, they even had the licorice wheels in different flavors.  Oh, there were plenty of other candy treats, but my favorite was always licorice.  The wonderful elderly couple that ran the store warmly encouraged me to check out what was on the shelves behind the counter.  

At the end of every week in elementary school, my dad handed out my 25 cent allowance, and it was mine to spend, without restrictions.  If I wanted to go to a movie, that was separate and I needed to ask my parents.

 
Now that I’m supposedly grown-up, I still haven’t kicked the licorice habit.  I love it as much as ever, especially the Australian style.  I can resist most any other candy, but not that delicious chewy delicacy.  A friend of mine once told me that black licorice caused cancer, and although I didn’t really believe it, I was a little frightened and thought about not buying it anymore.  Of course that didn’t last long.  I had about as much luck with that idea as dieting.

For decades I stayed at my high school weight, but then like many people I know, a shift occurred and it wasn’t pleasant.  I continually struggle to lose that extra weight, and just when I seem to be focused and on the right path, the scale tells me another story.  Even when I’m sure that something must have happened to that scale overnight and I weigh myself a second and third time, I know the willpower I once claimed has disappeared. 

Seeking to find some inspiring and motivating answers, I discovered a book called WINNING WORDS.  I quickly turned to the chapter on diet and exercise.  Here’s some of what I found, including one of my favorites:

            “Never eat more than you can lift.”  (Miss Piggy)

            “The best way to lose weight is to close your mouth—something very difficult for a politician.  Or watch your food—just watch it, don’t eat it.”  (Ed Koch, former New York City mayor)

But perhaps my two favorites are:  “I’m on a seafood diet.  I see food and I eat it.”  (anonymous writer), and  “I’ve been on a diet for two weeks and all I’ve lost is two weeks.”  (Totie Fields, writer).  In response to those remarks, since I’m constantly around my grandchildren and they’re always ravenous, I never hesitate to make excuses for myself.  Hence, if it’s around, I’ll eat it.  And my so-called diets work great for half a day; it’s the other half that’s unforgiving.

But I’ll still keep trying because I know, as the comedienne Fran Lebowitz explained, “Food is an important part of a balanced diet.” Some things you just don’t doubt.  And of course who can argue with the brilliant American hero Ben Franklin when he said, “To lengthen thy life, lessen thy meals.” 

Just don’t ask me to give up the licorice—that’s one vice I’m not about to change!

Saturday, August 25, 2012

WORDS THAT MATTER, WORDS THAT FLATTER!!


 
MY DAD, WHO ALWAYS KNEW WHAT MATTERED, WHETHER WITH FAMILY OR BUSINESS.
 
Yesterday I went to the customer service department of a discount store to pay a bill—nothing unusual, except for the neat lady who worked behind the counter. She'd waited on me several times in the past.  I felt kind of “off” when I walked into the store—a little tired and shaky and wobbly on my feet.  I really didn’t want to be there, but I liked even less the thought of paying an extra $35 for a late payment. She was busy with another customer, but said that it would be a long transaction, so she could help me right then if it didn’t take too long. She could tell that I was experiencing some shakiness in my left hand and felt self-conscious about it. When I finished awkwardly signing on the screen, she looked right at me and in a very kind and sensitive way said, “Thank you gorgeous.  Have a wonderful day!” I told her that she’d already made my day.  That may not seem like a big deal to many people, but to me it was.  It reminded me of the way my dad used to treat customers when they walked into his hardware or furniture store.  The first thing he often said was, “Howdy folks.  How can I help you?”  He genuinely cared about them and it showed.  It didn’t matter if they had a lot of money or not. He would deliver their goods to the other end of Wisconsin in his old worn-out truck if that’s what made them satisfied and happy.  I sometimes rode with him and never heard him grumbling about any of his customers—they were all equally important, and he was quick to point that out to me.

MY PARENTS, OUTSIDE THEIR HARDWARE STORE IN 1946.
 
There are times in today’s culture when that’s not always reflected.  A week ago I walked into one of my favorite restaurants, which usually has exceptional service, but on that day the woman waiting on me at the counter was rude and seemingly angry about having to be there.  I don’t know what her issue was, but I didn’t like being the brunt of it.  My daughter-in-law, who was with me, had the same experience a few minutes later.  We talked about it and I found myself hoping that I would never have that person wait on me again. I’m well aware of how rude customers can be at times too, but either way, I’m a big believer in treating people with respect, even if you’ve had a bad day or don’t feel like "showing up." It’s one of those words that ALWAYS matters, no matter what era we’re living in or how technologically important things seem.  It’s what makes us caring as humans. The customer service representative at the discount store understood that and so did my dad. 

There are times when I’m disappointed in my own behavior and am not sure I’m measuring up to those examples and ideals. I’ll keep working on it though and keep appreciating the honesty and integrity and decency of people who go the extra mile to make me feel valued and cared about.  Words do matter and a little flattery doesn’t hurt either!

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

TWO STRONG MEN, TWO KIND HEARTS!



Some time ago I discovered a unique photograph that my mother had saved of her two grandfathers.  I didn’t know much about them at the time because they died before I was born, but I loved the photograph and wanted to know more about them.  I remembered how important my own grandfathers had been in my life and I felt that she’d probably had a similar experience. In fact, she did tell me once that her maternal grandparents, Francis and Barbara had been very kind to her and she loved visiting them. 

I discovered that my great-grandfathers had some interesting similarities.  They were born within a day of one another, although in different years.  Arne, my paternal great-grandfather was born Feb. 4, 1843 and came to the U.S. from Norway at the age of 28.  His wife and one-year old son (my grandfather) came a year later.  Francis, my maternal great-grandfather was born Feb. 5, 1848, the year Wisconsin became a state. Arne lived to be 89, Francis 85. 

Arne had great determination upon coming to this country.  He was a pioneer settler who worked incredibly hard to make a home for his young family.  He helped raise eight sons, including my grandfather, and was active in his township in children’s education.  Upon his death the local newspaper said, “He was a kind and indulgent husband and father with generous impulses.” 

Francis was an early pioneer farmer and lumberman.  He came to Clark County, Wisconsin, in 1872.  His family had journeyed by wagon from the east coast.  He came from a family of twelve children and raised ten children with his wife Barbara. My grandmother was one of them.

I discovered in my mother’s papers a copy of a homesteading application for ten dollars which Francis filed in 1877.  It was the balance of payment required of him for obtaining 80 acres of land.  Not a bad deal for a 29-year old man and his family! 

When my great-grandfather Francis died in 1933, he had thirty-six grandchildren and thirty-six great-grandchildren. I'll bet he was mighty proud!

These two ancestors of mine, Arne and Francis were strong, hard-working men I wish I’d had a chance to meet.  From everything I know about them, they were equally kindhearted and generous and citizens my home state of Wisconsin could well be proud of!

Monday, August 20, 2012

HUMMIN' ALONG!



I’ve always had a fascination with hummingbirds—real jewels of nature.  One of the highlights of summers past was watching my mother mix up sugar water in a bright red feeder especially for her little birds. She put the feeder far enough away from our cabin so they wouldn’t be bothered.  I could sit near the lake early in the morning and watch them come.  It always amazed me. Now that my mom is gone and the cabin too, I rarely see them, but the little decorative hummingbirds that she left behind remind me of what rare and unique birds they are and why she loved them.


Hummingbirds are some of the smallest birds and yet they consume more than twice their weight in nectar every day.  You might think that they’re always on the move, but they spend the majority of their time sitting or perching.  I guess if you’re busy flapping your wings as much as eighty times per second, you need to spend a lot of time just resting. They can even hibernate when food is scarce.  And  they can also travel more than thirty miles per hour.  When I read that they eat a lot of small meals, I thought maybe that was an idea I should incorporate more often.  In addition to the nectar they drink from flowers, they also eat insects and spiders.

AN 1899 PAINTING BY ERNST HAECKEL


TWO CHICKS BEING FED IN TETON NATIONAL PARK
Because of the rapid beat of their wings, which makes a humming sound, they inherited the name hummingbird.  They leave our region of the Midwest in the fall to head for warmer climates.  After decades of sometimes challenging winters, I’ve thought more often about that idea too.

Amazingly, hummingbirds can live as long as a decade, but the average life span is 3-5 years. 

I recently read a few thoughts about hummingbirds that resonated with me:

            “Hummingbird darts lightly through the world, spreading its message of joy and beauty, and teaching us to appreciate the wonder and magic of everyday existence. Hummingbird brings the gift of joy.  Learn to laugh and be happy.”  (unknown)

            “I hear like you see—like that hummingbird outside that window for instance.”  (Ray Charles)

If you’re lucky enough to spot a hummingbird somewhere near you, send my blessings and good cheer to that special little bird.  

Friday, August 17, 2012

A TRAVELING JOURNAL AND A GREAT--GREAT GRANDFATHER!


Sometimes I’d give anything to go back in history and meet people I’ve read about and greatly admired.  One of those “gems” was my great-great-grandfather Hilarius Rondorf. He was born in a small German village in 1828 and came to the U.S. with his wife Anna Maria and young daughter Lizzie in 1854.  He traveled by railroad with his family to Antwerp, Belgium and then on the sail ship Leopold I to New York. 

I was amazed to get a copy of his traveling journal, which detailed his family’s struggles to begin a new way of life.  Added to that wonderful discovery was the inadvertent finding that a well-known missionary to Native Americans, Pierre de Smet was also a passenger on that voyage.  In a letter to a Belgian newspaper, he described the voyage of the Leopold from Antwerp to New York:

            “They weighed anchor between 9 and 10 in the morning.  The weather was superb.  The large and beautiful ship, Leopold I was full of animation, a multitude of emigrants from Germany, Holland, Switzerland, Belgium, Russia, France, etc. were already on board.  We took but a day to reach Southampton and remained there until the next day to take in English and Irish passengers.  Our numbers increased then to more than 620 persons.”

            Pierre de Smet went on to tell about the festiveness on board—the singing and dancing, and “the sound of the violin and guitar.”  Of course no tale would be complete without the description of the “sea in extraordinary agitation.”  The ship shook violently at times and the mood of the passengers “resembled a genuine day of mourning.” The ones hit hardest were “perhaps those who looked too deeply into the wine cup.”  It sounded like the physician on board was kept busy day and night.

            My great-great-grandfather seemed to mirror those observations:

            “We enjoyed a great deal of the time in dances, theaters, and other amusements, but the seasickness kept us on the hard bed a good many days.”

Landing in New York after 63 days, Hilarius and Anna Maria started again on the railroad to Madison, Wisconsin.  Having no money or relatives or friends, they were taken in by a farmer and allowed to live in his house for free for some time.  By the spring of 1855, after saving and working for others, they were able to purchase eighty acres of land nearby.  By 1860 they were able to move again, and in early 1865, my German great-great grandfather felt it his duty to enlist in his area Wisconsin regiment in the Civil War.  He earned $300, but after eight months, returned home seriously ill with the bilious fever. 

Nearing the end of his own life after the death of Anna Maria, Hilarius wrote to his six children asking them to look out for one another if any one of them should have bad luck.  He spoke of the deep love he’d had for his wife and how they came to this country in hopes of making a better life for their children.

I marvel at the bravery and trust of my great-great grandfather Hilarius.  He was a poor, but very hard-working man who believed in the dream of a better life in America for his family, and was willing to take that risk. He was also a deeply religious and compassionate man.  That was exemplified to me in the letters he wrote to his children and his daughter-in-law, pleading with her not to blame herself for the accidental death of her daughter in a fire. 
When I was a child I met Hilarius’s son and namesake, nicknamed Hi.  My parents and I visited him and his wife Mame fairly often, but I had no idea of his family history.  I just knew that Hi was a very kind and gentle man who liked children and that it was a fun place to visit. I’m now sure that the words, like father, like son, never rang truer. 


MY GRANDMOTHER MAMIE RONDORF, GRANDDAUGHTER OF HILARIUS

My grandmother Mamie was a lot like her grandfather—a very gentle spirit—and I feel incredibly blessed to be a part of her and the Rondorf heritage.  I also feel a great deal of gratitude for the stories Hilarius left behind, and I’m glad that I can continue to share them with others.


Wednesday, August 15, 2012

MAKING KIDS HAPPY!


My grandson had a great story to tell today when he came home from a professional baseball game between the Minnesota Twins and the Detroit Tigers.  It wasn’t about the game, which the Twins lost, having scored only one run.  I saw a portion of the game on television and thought that he’d be coming home very disappointed.  He rarely gets a chance to go to the games, but a friend’s family had invited him to this one. 

ALEXI CASILLA--THAT BAT LOOKS LIKE THE ONE HE GAVE MY GRANDSON

When he came in the door he had a big smile on his face and a large bat and professional baseball in his hands. I wondered what that was all about.  As it turns out, after the game ended, Alexi Casilla, the second baseman for the Twins, came out of the dugout, spotted Ethan with his Twins jersey and handed him a bat that, from the looks of it, he had used often.  It had his name and number (12) on it.  At first I didn’t believe that it was actually Alexi’s bat, but when I looked it over closely, I knew it was the “real thing.”  Nothing could have made that little eight-year old boy happier.  He’s followed the Twins all year, despite their losing record and he talks stats with me and a buddy often.  That bat may be well-worn, but it’s a thing of beauty to Ethan.  I’m told that there were other kids grabbing for it, but Ethan just watched because he never imagined that he’d wind up with it.  And he walked home with a professional baseball as well because a gentleman who’d been given one by Alexi, handed it to Ethan. Doubly exciting!
We hear so often about selfish ballplayers and their lack of interest in fans and their unwillingness to do anything unless they’re paid, but this major league player saw a little guy with a Twins jersey and an interest in baseball and took an interest in him.  Ethan won’t forget that, I know.  I won’t either. 

MY OLDEST BROTHER TERRY FISHING

It usually doesn’t take a lot to make kids happy.  I had a flashback to my own childhood and the enormous fun I had, playing ball, fishing with my dad or going berry picking or on walks along cabin roads.  As I was looking through some old pictures a few days ago, I re-discovered a simple photo of my oldest brother fishing on an old stump by the lake where our little cabin was about to be built.  That was over 55 years ago.  Although I haven’t seen him for a while, I’ll bet he hasn’t forgotten that day.  Simple times and simple fun!
I haven’t lost my interest and excitement in seeing what makes kids happy.  Having grandchildren now, I get to experience their joy as my own, and it makes life pretty darned sweet!

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

A LOST ART AND A LESSON RE-LEARNED!


A POSTCARD FROM MY AUNT ELLEN'S SCRAPBOOK

For years I was a prolific letter writer.  Friends sometimes asked me how I managed to find things to write about.  For me it was like sitting next to a friend and sharing thoughts and ideas and dreams. I felt like I was actually talking to that friend and sharing a love of writing. It often filled a void in my own life and made me feel connected with those friends and pen pals a world away.  Getting a letter in the mailbox was a real joy. At the end of the day when my kids were tucked in bed, I couldn’t wait to have my own time and sit in a quiet corner with a cup of coffee or tea, some interesting stationery, a special pen, and a story to tell.  Sometimes those pages went on for days and I almost didn’t want the letter to end. It felt like a major accomplishment when the letter was finally in the mail, at which point I could visualize my friend at the other end having a similar experience upon receiving it.
Lately I’ve resorted more often to e-mails to stay in touch with friends and I’ve enjoyed that immensely.  But I’ve also disappointed some special friends who don’t use or like computers.  That used to be me.  Yes, I’ve been busy with grandchildren, trips around the city, family concerns, and even writing on my own blog, but I now realize what I’ve been missing.  Letter writing is perhaps a lost art in many ways, but it’s a delight in many others. Nearly a year ago I realized that more than ever. I had owed a special pen pal in Connecticut a letter and when I looked at the postmark of her last letter, dated seven months earlier, I felt guilty that I hadn’t written. I finally sent out a short letter.  Not long afterwards I received a letter from Connecticut that had handwriting I didn’t recognize.  I was a little confused, but when I opened it and read the first few lines, I was filled with sadness.  My friend’s husband wrote to tell me that she had died unexpectedly of a stroke months earlier.  At that moment I realized what her friendship and faithful letters had meant to me.  I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had let her down.  We shared so many common interests, including genealogy, and my ancestors who initially came to this country settled in the area where she lived.  She had even offered to go to New Haven to do some research for me. We had written back and forth for over twenty-two years and it was painful to think that I would never receive a letter from her again.  Like me, she loved reading and even had a small volunteer library named after her.  What a dear friend! How I miss her letters.
I’m now trying to find the balance between writing e-mails and handwritten letters.  I used to think that letters always had to be long and filled with news and personal thoughts, but I’ve decided that it’s more important that my friends know that I’ve thought of them and want to stay connected. Years ago my English friend Angie came for a visit and wrote in my journal book.  She chose the page that quoted Ada Leverson, an English writer, “You don’t know a woman until you have had a letter from her.”  I chuckled when I recently re-read it and exclaimed to myself, “How true!" This time I won't forget it. 

Sunday, August 12, 2012

FROM THE OLYMPICS TO FOOTBALL--A RENEWED RIVALRY!

A LOYAL VIKINGS FAN IN MY OLD NEIGHBORHOOD

For the past two weeks I’ve loved watching nearly everything about the Olympics and I feel a little sad about it ending today.  I can’t believe how excited I got watching water polo and beach volleyball and women’s soccer with my grandchildren. I’d never paid much attention to those sports in the past.  My interests always focused on swimming, gymnastics, track, and basketball. I still marvel at the dedication and passion of the majority of the athletes; they’re truly amazing. They deserve every bit of the glory and admiration that comes their way.


Now, being one who truly enjoys sports and the spirit of competition, I’m ready to turn my attention to football.  Living in Minnesota Vikings country, you’d think that it could get awfully lonely here, being a Packers fan.  But the truth is that nearly every day I see people of all ages wearing Packers shirts or hats, or in one case, even having a yellow and green car with a Packers flag.  I know that it drives a lot of Vikings fans crazy.  I’ve been asked a few times why I don’t switch my allegiance to the Vikings now that I’ve lived here for ages.  After all, I cheer for Minnesota’s professional basketball and baseball teams. There’s no easy answer except to say that the Packers are a legend in Wisconsin and parts of the Midwest.  Maybe part of that is because Green Bay is the smallest city in the National Football League and the only one publicly owned. Its fans went through a lot of lean years in the 1950’s.  And then there’s my mother, an amazing lady and diehard fan who even sent Christmas cards to Bart Starr, the star quarterback of the 1960’s, and his wife. My parents always received a card and note in return.  My mother even kept some of them over the years.  Even though she’s no longer alive, I always think of her and her love for football and the Packers in particular.  My ten-year old granddaughter has turned into a Packers fan as well, much to the dismay of her eight-year old brother and mom and dad. 

LAMBEAU FIELD, HOME OF THE PACKERS--MY LITTLE SOUVENIR


Although American football doesn’t have the worldwide appeal of the Olympics, it’s exciting to watch on any given Sunday.  So, let the games and the hoopla begin!

Earl, (Curly) Lambeau, Packers coach from 1919-1949.  He won six championships and had a won-lost record of 231-108.  The stadium in Green Bay is named after him, a rarity these days.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

FROM TRAFFIC JAM TO NATURE'S DELIGHTS



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TRAFFIC JAM IN ST. PAUL--Unlike this photo, I was in one much worse in Minneapolis.


TRAFFIC JAM IN CALIFORNIA--The Target truck made me feel at home.

Yesterday I experienced once again the thing I hate most about living in a big city—THE TRAFFIC JAM! I suppose the fortunate thing is that when I looked at the other side of that wonderful freeway, it was even worse—bumper to bumper for miles.  And of course it didn’t help that I was traveling at one of the worst times of the day—from 3 to 6 p.m. on a Friday, when many Minnesotans are thinking of heading UP NORTH to the lakes and woods and peaceful surroundings.  By the time I got home I just sat down and relished the power of quiet and solitude.  Every now and then I need reminders of how good that feels.  Soon I heard the beautiful singing of my favorite birds—the cardinals, and all was right with my little corner of the world again. As Michel de Montaigne, a French writer of long ago once said, “The pleasantest things in the world are pleasant thoughts; and the art of life is to have as many of them as possible.”  I’m still working on that, as are many of us, I guess.  So here are some contrasting photos that came to mind today.
TRAFFIC JAM IN CHINA


TRAFFIC JAM IN INDIA




A PEACEFUL SETTING BY A MINNESOTA RIVER





WINTER WONDERLAND AND A QUIET ROAD UP NORTH!



A NICE WAY TO TRAVEL!


A DUCK'S DELIGHT



THAT WONDERFUL CARDINAL, WHO'S VISIBLE SUMMER AND WINTER IN MINNESOTA AND WISCONSIN



My dream one day is to win a million dollar lottery ticket  and retire to a little cabin up north. I could do away with traffic jams and still find my way to the Twin Cities now and then.  But in the meantime, I'll keep working on those pleasant thoughts and try to have as many of them as possible, even in a traffic jam.
























Thursday, August 9, 2012

ABBY AT THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

From 1899 to 1909, 12 passenger trains a day passed through Abbotsford.

A mere one hundred years ago a little village nicknamed Abby (for Abbotsford) was a thriving railroad town. It’s called Wisconsin’s First City because of its top spot in the listing of Wisconsin cities. It’s my hometown and I still have fond memories of growing up there.
The town was named after Edwin Abbot, who was born in 1834 and became director of the Wisconsin Central Railroad.  He came to Milwaukee from Boston, where he practiced law after graduating from Harvard.
In the Abbotsford Clarion newspaper from September, 1911 Abbotsford was described this way:
“It is a village of wide, well laid out clean streets, splendid shade trees and as beautiful homes as can be found in any village, town, or city in the state of Wisconsin.  It has pure water and a climate that is a joy to live in.  Its people are cordial and always ready to extend a welcome to any strangers that come within its borders.  Any man with reasonable thrift and economy can own a comfortable home in Abbotsford with a large lot giving plenty of room for a garden and a playground for the children.  This is better than living in a crowded city where rents are high and nobody knows or cares who his next door neighbor is.” 


A special lady, my Aunt Ellen

Abbotsford had its own high school of 60 students in 1911.  Its eleven graduates of 1911 were offered more language choices (Latin, German, and English) than my own class of 1966.  Those four teachers must have had a rigid curriculum.  My Aunt Ellen spent part of her early years in that school system.  She later became an exceptional elementary school teacher for over forty-five years.







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In tribute to that unique little town at the turn of the century, I've included some memorable photos, the latter two of the 1920's main street and the old armory.
My grandchildren like to tease me that I've been around since the turn of the century.  Maybe in some ways I have!