OUR GREATEST EXPERIENCES ARE OUR QUIETEST MOMENTS!

Years ago the German philosopher Nietzsche said, "Our greatest experiences are our quietest moments."  As I write this, and observe the many recent instances of chaos around the U.S., I seek out those quiet moments more than ever. I relish the sights and sounds of nature.  It doesn't mean that I fail to acknowledge the waves of change and sometimes violent actions that are surfacing now in this country.  It only means that I try to somehow find a balance. That is definitely a challenge for all of us! 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday I enjoyed a wonderful, unexpected walk with a friend on a beautiful, sunny, picture-perfect day. I hope you enjoy some photos from that "escape into nature," and a few other simple times.

WHY WOULD YOU CHEER FOR THEM?? YOU LIVE IN MINNESOTA!!

A few weeks ago my 10-year old grandson Ethan told me that his friends at school asked why he would want to cheer for the Wisconsin basketball team in the NCAA tournament.  They couldn't understand why he liked the Packers as well.  They suggested that since he lived in Minnesota, it was not right to cheer for Wisconsin teams.  I was proud of his response, which was  "Minnesota doesn't have any teams in the playoffs, and I like Wisconsin." I did not coach him on who he should cheer for, but he does know that I'm an avid fan of the Badgers and Packers and Bucks.  There are several Minnesota teams that I follow as well. I thought it was interesting that he would share this on our way home from school.

It's hard to go against peer pressure at times and perhaps have classmates tease you or make fun of you, but Ethan had no trouble speaking up.  AND he picked Wisconsin to win the national basketball championship, which they came very close to doing.

One thing I will miss when I move to another state in a few months is the fun I've had talking with my grandchildren about sports, school activities, current events, nature, animals, and lessons of LIFE.  The laughs along the way have been endless, and I can honestly tell you that I've learned as much from them as they have from me. And maybe the best thing I've discovered about them is what strong, independent thinkers they are, and that they do "march to their own drummer," as Thoreau would say. They're very bright, but also possess wonderful, caring hearts. What could be more important? Their great-grandmother (my mom) would be extremely proud of them, as she would be of her youngest great-grandson Ben!

I told Ethan that he could blame that "cheering for Wisconsin thing" on his grandma if he wanted.  But never mind--he was quite capable of setting the record straight.  He would darn well choose to cheer for whomever he wanted, and whenever! He's on his way!!

THE FEISTY, SPIRITED FEMINIST--I CALL HER MOM!!

A few days ago my oldest son and I spoke fondly about my mom--his grandma Millie.  He told his 13-year old

 

 

daughter Morgan that she would have loved her great-grandma because she was one-of-a-kind--a real treasure! 
And he added that she wasn't afraid to speak her mind when she thought people were out-of-line.  As an affirmation of that, I told Morgan about my first grade teacher who tried to make me write right-handed when it was obvious that I was left-handed.  I remember often coming home in tears, and when my mother found out what was going on, she marched off to school and told Mrs. Schumacher that there would be no more of that.  She would be proud to know today that even President Obama is left-handed, as are a number of other recent presidents. 

It took a lot to get my mother upset, but I remember that when I was about ten, a couple of women came to the door, trying to tell my mother that her religion was a mistake and she would not go to heaven if she didn't convert to their religion.  She was respectful at first, but when her own religion was not respected, that was the end of the conversation.  She escorted them out the door and told them not to come back.

As a young child my mother had many childhood illnesses and spent months in two different hospitals.  She spent eight months alone in Shriner's Hospital in Minneapolis, and there was no improvement in her condition.  She was never able to bend her knee, which made her sad because she was never able to ride a bike.  She was also very lonely because she was far away from her family in central Wisconsin.  She could not have visitors for some time because there were several children who were quarantined.  At times she begged her parents to send her paper so she could write to them.  I am thankful that I was able to obtain her hospital records from 90 years ago so I could understand her much better.  I came to appreciate the remarkable woman she was, and the difficult struggles she faced.

My mother and I often had political discussions later in life, and at times we had definite disagreements.  But I do know that she was outspoken about a woman's right to make her own choices in life.  She firmly believed in the value of education, and was proud of her teaching degree and connection with her students in the little town of Fairchild, Wisconsin.  I still love to drive down the streets of that town and imagine what it was like for her as a high school commercial teacher in that small high school.  She encouraged me to pursue a college education and work hard to achieve my dreams.  At times I felt like I must have disappointed her, but she never let me know it.

As Mother's Day nears, I think often of my mom.  She was a very kind and compassionate woman, full of energy, and deep love for my dad and her family, as well as those less fortunate.  She was quirky and very funny at times, and above all, a woman with a deep commitment to basic human rights for all.  She had lived through the time when women had concerns about keeping their teaching jobs if they got married. I think she might have made a great senator, as her high school friend George hinted at in her 1931 yearbook, when he said, "When you get to be a senator or something like that, I'll come and listen to you debate."

So, although my mother might not have fit the traditional definition of a feminist, to me she was every bit of one.  And best of all, she had a heart of gold!! 

AMAZING PERSEVERENCE!

A few weeks ago I watched a segment on CBS about a Minnesota high school girls basketball team, which no doubt millions of people saw.  Who would believe that a team that had lost 84 games over several seasons could become so famous?  But indeed they did, and for good reason!  Under incredible odds, they persevered, and won their first game.

The Climax Fisher girl's team started the game with nine players, but ended it with only three.  Five players fouled out, and one had played too many minutes in the junior and senior varsity games, and had to sit out the second half of the varsity game. Consequently, there were only three players available for most of the second overtime period.  Even the coach wondered if his Lady Knights could play through the impossible task of trying to win the game.  Amazingly, they made 12 points in both overtimes combined, and pulled off an incredible victory over Bagley, 62-58. 

Talk about jubilation, and unbelievable perseverance.  The coach, Jonathan Vonesh, said, "The emotions that were running through my body and the kids--there were tears, there was joy, the crowd was going nuts.  It felt like we won a championship."  How I would have loved to have been there!  I think I would have shed a few tears as well.

I'm a basketball lover from "way back", having proudly followed my older brother's great achievements during his high school years.  And even though we didn't have a girl's team at that time, I have always followed the game with great interest and enthusiasm.  Now that the NCAA men's basketball tournament is in high gear, and my favorite team (the Wisconsin Badgers) are doing exceptionally well, I'm enjoying basketball more than ever.

But for all the news of great victories and exciting players, I don't lose sight of the tremendous victory achieved by a small girl's school in northwestern Minnesota.  It was against all odds, and brought great joy to the young women who didn't know the word "quit," as well as their fans. A team and a story that will live on for years!  And rightly so!!

Thank you Lady Knights for your amazing perseverance!!

THAT'S JUST HOW IT IS--IN MINNESOTA!

This morning, as I dropped my granddaughter off at school, the snow was coming down rather heavily, and when she got out of the car, she commented, "That's just the way it is--in Minnesota.  When you want snow and to be able to go

 

 

 

 

skiing,  nothing happens.  But when ski season is over. it comes down like crazy."  She had just finished her first year with the ski team, and they wound up missing more ski meets than ones they competed in.  And all because Minnesota weather just wouldn't cooperate. It hadn't snowed in weeks.  Cold, of course!  That's a "given." But the presence of snow was practically non-existent.

 

I've been thinking a lot about my adopted state lately. There's a good reason for that.  As I plan a move during the next few months, I find myself reflecting even more than usual. We have a term here called MINNESOTA NICE!  I can tell you that it doesn't always apply.  I've used some "choice" words on occasion to express my dismay about rude and sometimes dangerous behavior on the freeway, others trying to cut in line in front of you at stores, people giving you the "evil eye" if you're not fast enough for them, even on walkways.  And I do realize that is not unique to Minnesota.  But what I will remember more than anything are the kind words and acts when you least expect them.  Today was an example of that.  I was carrying a heavy load of books into the library, when a kind gentleman held the door for me for a long time.  I told him how much I appreciated it, and his response was, "Don't give it a thought.  You have yourself a very nice day." It reminded me of a recent Facebook posting about telling yourself how much a smile or kind word or gesture means to someone. It can make a huge difference, and you might not even realize it at the time.

 

Another thing about Minnesota is that we have a state government that actually functions most of the time, unlike our Washington counterparts.  I feel absolute disgust with Congress these days.  But Minnesota is "delivering" to its citizens. With a nearly two billion dollar surplus this year, it's a nice dilemma to have about how that money should be spent.  I think the legislators can definitely find some agreement in that area.  Our governor is not flashy or charismatic, but he truly cares about Minnesota residents.  He's not worried about his next political office.  I'm thankful for that. He's refreshingly boring and productive! I'd like to meet him and say thank you one day.

One final thought--Minnesota has more natural beauty than

 

 

most of the country can even imagine.  From the pristine Boundary Waters Canoe Area, to the grandeur of Lake Superior, the small, quaint towns and villages, and the cultural diversity of the Twin Cities, I have truly felt blessed living here.  The parks and trails and lakes are unsurpassed anywhere.  And those Minnesotans overall?  They are some of the nicest people you could meet anywhere.  Will I miss a lot of things about this wonderful state?  That is for certain!!  Now and then I need to remind myself, in different ways, about what my granddaughter said.  "That's just how it is in Minnesota."  Unique and lovely and full of good people and places! Don't ever hesitate to check it out!!! 

WHO WROTE THESE RULES, ANYWAY?

As I was making a grand effort to clean my room today, I discovered a copy of a teacher's contract from 1922, compliments of Reed School, near Neillsville, Wisconsin.  It served as a one-room country school for many years.  I have two very special aunts who taught there for a number of years. I wish I had been fortunate enough to have been in either of their classes.

Reed School operated at a time when there were over 6,000 one-room schools in Wisconsin during the first half of the 20th Century. It was closed in 1951 because of declining enrollment, but continues to be open part-time during the summer as a history museum.

What I found especially fascinating were the rules that teachers at that time needed to abide by.  They would be quite unimaginable today, as would the salary of $75 a month. 

 

Journey back to 1922 for a while, and imagine yourself with these expectations in your teaching life:

1.  You may not consider getting married because your contract would "become null and void immediately." This was a concern for my mother, even in 1938.

2.  Unless you were planning to be at a school function, you'd better be home between the hours of 8 p.m. and 6 a.m.

3.  Plan to stay away from downtown ice cream stores, because that might be considered loitering.

4.  Stay in town unless you were given permission by the chairman of the trustees.

5.  Smoking cigarettes or drinking beer, wine, or whiskey would certainly invalidate your contract.

6.  Don't think about riding in a carriage or car with any man except your brother or father.

7.  Stay away from bright colored dresses, and make sure to wear at least two petticoats.

8.  Do not consider wearing your dress more than two inches above your ankles.

9.  Remember that it's your responsibility to keep the classroom clean by sweeping it at least once a day, and scrubbing the floor at least once a week with soap and  hot water.

10.  Do not have company with men.


**I can't sing the praises of those early teachers enough. 
 

 

Having been a teacher myself for approximately five years, I know how exhausting and challenging it can sometimes be, and I have the greatest respect for teachers everywhere.  But thinking of those teachers in Wisconsin's rural one-room schools in 1922, what I really want to know is, "Who wrote those impossibly restrictive rules," and had they been teachers at one time?

And to a number of my friends who are teachers or have been teachers at one time, you are the best!  Thank you for your kind, caring ways, and your dedication to young people.  You have made a huge difference in the lives of many, and I will always be grateful!!

"SWELL" CONNECTION!

Yesterday I made a stop at one of my favorite stores--Trader Joe's.  I hadn't been there for a while, but love talking to the friendly check-out people.  They could offer a class to other businesses about how to treat their customers with care and respect, not to mention FUN.  I was asked the usual "How's your day going?"  And then when I returned the favor, the very friendly clerk responded, SWELL.  Now that brought up years of memories of what a common, but important word he had used.  He was much younger than his customer, so I was surprised by his comment.  I asked him about it.  He said that to him it expressed a lot more than just "fine" or "well."  He was surprised that I had even noticed, and when I went on to ask why, he said, "Because most people are too busy talking on their phones to even care or notice."  He added that he's decided lately to simplify his life and make important changes, like reverting to a simple "flip phone" and using it infrequently.  I could definitely relate to that since the only phone I use is a "flip phone" and it's very inexpensive.  I thought it was interesting that a much younger person would make the same decision, but based as much on his realization that he was allowing his much fancier phone to become a major part of his life, and he no longer liked that idea.  I told him that it was like one of my favorite authors of the 19th century, Henry David Thoreau, reminding us to "Simplify, simplify."  I have so often thought of that, but not always followed the idea. Years ago my youngest brother used to have a large poster in my bedroom at our family cabin, displaying one of Thoreau's quotes--"March to the beat of a different drummer."  When I start to think that I might be a little too quirky for some people, I remind myself of that quote.  The cashier's final comment to me was the quote about "the road less traveled."  

That short interaction may not seem all that significant, but it stuck with me all day.  We might not have spoken at all, or only minimally, but instead we found a connection, talking about the importance of not letting technology take over our lives.  I'm still mulling that over.  So thank you "swell" fellow who made my day, in a very simple way, a whole lot more enjoyable.  And Henry David Thoreau, you are still not forgotten! 

WHAT A LOVELY SURPRISE!

Ellen Burstyn, an American actress, once said, "What a lovely surprise to discover how un-lonely being alone can be."  Having been homebound for four days recently due to illness, was NOT a lovely surprise--the "being alone" part or being confined indoors, but oh, what a feeling it was to discover the wonderful world of the outdoors once again.  Especially after a simple, but lovely snowfall! With camera in hand, off I went to discover the nearby charm of lakes and woods. One day in the coming months I will leave this area where I've lived for 45 years to explore a new place with new people and adventures awaiting.  Perhaps that's why I'm savoring these last months and moments.  For many years I took children of all ages with me, but now those times have more or less passed, and I'm soaking up my time alone.  As May Sarton, the famous writer said many years ago, "One thing is certain, and I have always known it--the joys of my life have nothing to do with age." I totally agree!

 

 

 

 

WHAT IS THE LURE???

For decades I've seen people drawn to ice fishing, but I've never truly understood it.  It might be the coldest day on record in Minnesota, but the loyalists will still show up to their fishing spot enthusiastically.  Whether they're just carrying a cozy stool to be sitting on a frozen lake while hoping for THE BIG CATCH, or holing up in some permanent shelter which offers satellite television, a stove, bathroom, and large bed, they're often "hooked."  Probably long ago they discovered that there's a real art to winning the winter battle with the fish, but the idea is to have some fun along the way, and share some connections with others equally hooked.  I admire them for their love and devotion to the sport, but it still baffles me how and why they do it. 

Here are a few photos I took of ice houses on Medicine

 

Lake, Minnesota.  The contests are not just about the size of fish caught, but the artistic creations known as ice houses.  Perhaps one day I'll be more than just curious, and spend a day with someone who can explain the lure of it, and why it's so intriguing.  For now, I'll enjoy my time by the fireplace on a cold winter's day, curled up with a good book, and someone special nearby.

THERE'S ONLY ONE LAMBEAU!

Thanks to an incredibly special place called Lambeau Field, home of the Green Bay Packers professional

football team in Green Bay, Wisconsin, I have had thrill after thrill watching a small town team proudly represent my home state of Wisconsin throughout  the years. Yesterday was another example of a fabulously played game at Lambeau Field. Green Bay came out on top against Dallas, 26-21, and the hometown fans went crazy. I wish I could have been there!

I'm guessing that there are millions of people who don't have a clue as to how Lambeau Field got its name.  Unlike most of the professional stadiums today, it's not named after some giant corporation.  It was Curly Lambeau, a player and coach of Green Bay for 31 years who was the inspiration for the stadium name.  He was also the co-founder of the team in 1919, and at several

points throughout the years, he no doubt worried about the financial survival of the team. At different times the city had to struggle to keep the team afloat.  A number of other small town teams had already folded. Green Bay was different, and today its fans proudly talk of its 13 championships.  Curly Lambeau was part of six of those events. He and Vince Lombardi, the legendary coach who turned Green Bay into Title Town, will always be revered, and together, they stand outside the stadium in statue form.

One of my favorite NFL championships in Green Bay was in 1961, when the Packers, the definite underdog,

defeated the New York Giants at Lambeau Field, 37-0.  Growing up in a small town in Wisconsin, there was nothing my mother and I loved more than seeing our beloved small town team trounce the big city foe.  The Frozen Tundra became the field of legend.

Today I revel in watching the Lambeau Leap, after the Packers score a touchdown.  The Packer player who scores often jumps in the end zone stands to share that glorious moment with fans.  It was Leroy Butler, a former Packer great who instituted that classic play, which has become a fan favorite over the years.  And opposing players who have occasionally tried to duplicate it after scoring a touchdown, have been soundly rejected by fans, reminding them that Lambeau is Packers territory--sacred ground!

Today Lambeau Field is the third largest National

Football League stadium.  It seats over 80,000 screaming fans, and often has the feel of a college game.  Its atmosphere is unmatched in professional football!  If you're an American football fan of any kind, put it on your "bucket list" to visit Lambeau Field and the Packers Hall of Fame in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  The facilities are first rate, and the people of Green Bay, like Wisconsin in general, have that magical quality called "Wisconsinality."  Of course I might be a bit biased!  Thanks to mom, I've never forgotten my roots, or team!


P.S. Happy birthday, mom!  I know you'll be watching the Packers-Seahawks game from "somewhere out there" this weekend.  Can't wait!!

DO YA WANT TO DANCE?

I've never professed to be a great dancer; in fact, as a teenager I often felt uncomfortable going to dance halls to meet potential dance partners.  It just wasn't my thing, for various reasons.  But at age 66, my four-year old grandson and little buddy Ben has me re-thinking issues of self-consciousness that have hung around me for years.  He has dance moves like I never imagined, and no hesitation in showing them. I took notice, and something got into me this morning as I drove him to preschool. I started movin' and a shakin' in the car and singing silly little songs to match.  He started laughing like crazy and even noticed my ease in "letting go."  I think I surprised him a bit, and it was darned good fun! It even made the two of us forget about the bitterly cold weather for a few minutes.

It's funny how as adults we often think that we have to look good or "be cool" in a certain way, often being worried about how we look to others.  It's hard to let go of that, but Ben is my inspiration because he just laughs and enjoys the moment.  I need to practice that a whole lot more!

CHRISTMAS MEMORIES WITH DAD!

I'm normally asleep at 3 a.m., but instead, I'm listening to Christmas music and remembering a very tender-hearted and special man. 

 

 

My dad loved the beautiful Christmas song O HOLY NIGHT, and it's become my favorite as well.  I can remember sitting next to him in our little church in Wisconsin, and whenever that song was sung by a lovely woman named Joan, my dad was filled with tears.  He never sang, but that song touched his heart.  And it does the same for me today.  I think of him whenever I hear it, and wish that I'd had many more years with him. He was a true gentle man, and I will always have loving memories of him at Christmas and many other times. 

One special Christmas morning when I was about 10, I remember opening several small presents from my parents, and selfishly feeling a little disappointed.  There was nothing really "special," just socks, pajamas, etc.

And then my dad brought out a large wrapped package.  I was very curious, and when I first opened it, I thought it looked like a suitcase.  That really got me wondering.  I couldn't imagine that my parents were sending me away, but I was confused.  Dad suggested I do the obvious and open the "suitcase."  Inside I discovered a beautiful gold saxophone lying on a red velvet covering. I was ecstatic!  I knew that it must have been expensive, and knowing that my parents were far from rich, I felt a little ashamed of myself for my initial attitude. I learned to play that beautiful instrument for many years, and like many other opportunities my parents gave me, it helped expand my confidence.  I felt proud and happy every time I played it at ballgames and concerts and contests, and I so often wish I still had it.

As I anticipate wrapping presents for my grandchildren and listening to Christmas music, I'm filled with memories and strong emotions.  The years since I was a child seem to have raced by, but I'll never forget the excitement of Christmas morning. I just wish I had a picture of that young girl opening her most memorable childhood gift, and the joy it brought. 

A FOGGY REMINDER!

It started out as an intriguing morning, with heavy fog all around, and unusually mild temperatures for mid-December in Minnesota.  I decided to check out a favorite park and view the scenery from a different perspective. When I returned home, I discovered a wonderful quote about fog, which expresses my sentiments exactly: "Sometimes we need the fog to remind ourselves that all of life is not black and white." (Jonathan Lockwood Huie). Along with that, I've added some photos of a foggy, thought-provoking walk. Included are photos from a nearby pond with interesting sketches that nature created.  Take note as well of an ice fishing house in one photo that seems a bit lonely.  Those who love ice fishing will no doubt be taking a bit of a hiatus due to the warm weather.  Life is often full of surprises and unexpected illustrations in nature. And of course, plenty of heart to match!

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"LOOK FOR A LOVELY THING AND YOU WILL FIND IT . . ."

A wonderful American poet named Sara Teasdale once said, "Look for a lovely thing and you will find it, It is not far--It never will be far."  During the last week or

\two I've been on a mission--to explore the beauty of various parks and trails, and to appreciate the simple joys of nature.  It was Richard Jeffries, who lived over a hundred years ago, who expressed much the same thing as Sara: "The hours when the mind is absorbed by beauty are the only hours we live."

 

 

 

With those thoughts in mind, I'm eager to share some of my own nature photos.  I hope you find them enjoyable. Of course a little humor at the end of the nature trail never hurts.  Someone at the dog park bordering the trail is displaying a unique and clever way to get a point across!

 

 

Foreign Exchange Programs and a Changed Life!

On this Thanksgiving Day in America, I am thankful for an abundance of things--family, good friends, a warm place to live, adequate food, and special memories of events and people that changed my life.

As a young person growing up in a small town in Wisconsin, I was very insecure and self-conscious--a true introvert.  My parents recognized that, and although they encouraged me to get out and do more things socially, that's not where I felt comfortable.  I had friends and was reasonably well-liked, but I never quite felt like I fit in.  And then something happened that changed my life forever.  My parents decided to make a giant leap and invite a foreign exchange student from Germany to become part of our family life for a year.  Nothing could have made me happier.  Christa was like the sister I never had. She loved being shown around our little town and being part of activities in our small high school.  Everyone seemed to love her, and I never remember an unkind word spoken by her or about her.  Boy, was I lucky!

That year we spent together helped me become more outgoing and involved in school events.  I also had a chance to grow and learn to view things from another perspective.  My friend grew up in another culture, and that expanded my world as well.  When she left for home the following summer, I was terribly sad, but determined that I wanted to visit her in Germany the following summer.  I worked as a recreation leader the summer she left and saved money so I could visit her the following year.  I spent the summer of 1966 with her family, and it was there that I met a friend of hers who was to have special significance in my life.  Three years later that good friend moved to America and became my husband.  Although we're no longer together, we've shared many happy times, raised three children, and welcomed countless students from other countries into our home for various periods of time.  I also became a supervisor for a foreign exchange program in the Twin Cities and have kept in close touch with several students. I studied German in college, and although my grammar is far from perfect, I can still carry on a conversation. 

I will always be grateful to my parents for creating a wonderful opportunity for me.  Little did they know then how it would change my life.  I am grateful to Heinz as well, for taking a chance on that shy, quirky, but feisty young woman.  Today--Thanksgiving Day--my daughter and I will celebrate with him and his wife in their home.  We've come full circle, and have a wonderful friendship, as well as three terrific kids. On this Thanksgiving Day, I'm especially grateful!

LESS IS MORE!

As the holiday season approaches, I'm overcome with a mixture of joy and sadness, as well as memories of Thanksgiving days spent with family and friends.  My mother, in particular, spent many hours getting ready for our wonderful feast.  My dad was eager to help in whatever way he could, especially when it involved carving the turkey.  He took special delight in that.  And like many American homes, when the meal was over, all eyes turned to the television to watch the Packers-Lions football game.  No matter how good the Packers were in any given year, the Detroit Lions always seemed to give them grief.  Just once I would have loved to have seen the game played in Green Bay!  I probably won't be watching football on Thanksgiving this year, but I'll certainly be remembering the roar of the crowd in years past, and my mother Millie's reward for getting up in the middle of the night to start preparing the turkey.  She loved football, and nothing could stop her from watching the Packers, not even a Thanksgiving get-together.

As I sat by Medicine Lake recently--one of my favorite places in the Twin Cities--I thought of my parents and their appreciation of the simple things in life.  I'm grateful for their humble beginnings and how they taught me to value people and places, rather than "things."  They exemplified the thought expressed by the wonderful poet of the nineteenth century, Robert Browning, who said, quite simply, "Less is more."  Indeed it is!  And when it comes to observing natural beauty, nothing thrills me more. That is my REAL life!  Ann Landers, the former American advice columnist once said, "You can't have everything.  Where would you put it?" I don't have a clue, and this year, more than ever, I cherish simplicity, and the joy in nature's surroundings. As the German philosopher Nietzsche once said, "Our greatest experiences are our quietest moments."

ONE INCREDIBLE COACH--"MAKE EACH DAY YOUR MASTERPIECE!"

As the college basketball season unfolds, I think of an incredible coach named John Wooden, who died in 2010 at the age of 99. He was named The Greatest Coach of the Twentieth Century, but he was so much more than a basketball coach.  He was the caring, dedicated teacher, who recognized the life long impact a teacher could have.  He once said, "After my father, my teachers had the most profound impact on my life." He offered this advice--"Make each day your masterpiece."

John Wooden's UCLA teams won 88 straight games, an amazing accomplishment, and in addition, he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Few people probably know that he was also an All-American as a player. But true to himself, he reminded his players that "what you are as a person is far more important than what you are as a basketball player." He once said, "Teaching players during practice was what coaching was all about to me."

John Wooden never forgot about the note card his father gave him when he graduated from a country grade school.  On it were suggestions to follow along the road of life.  

Those important suggestions included being true to yourself, helping others, reading good books, giving thanks for your blessings, valuing friendship, and praying for guidance.  Coach Wooden remarked in his book, The Wisdom of Wooden, "My father told me over and over and over that nothing is stronger than gentleness."  He added, "Life goes by in a flicker.  We are all pilgrims passing through on our way to eternity.  Each day matters.  Make each day your masterpiece."

To John Wooden, there was nothing more important in the world than family and love.  When his wife Nellie died after decades of marriage, he would go to her grave site on the twenty-first of every month, after writing her a love letter, and return home to place it on her pillow. 

For years I followed John Wooden as an exceptional coach, but knew little about his personal side.  The book titled The Wisdom of Wooden is wonderfully inspirational, even if you're not a big basketball fan.

Here are some uplifting quotes about Coach Wooden, as well as his own reflections on life and the things we need to value. He was truly one of a kind.

John Wooden:
"It's the little details that are vital.  Little things make big things happen."
"Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are."
"Love is the most important thing in the world.  Hate, we should remove from the dictionary."

Remembering John Wooden and his influence on basketball, as well as the players he coached, here are a few comments by sports writers and commentators who knew him well:

Bob Costas:  "One hundred years from now they will still be talking about his accomplishments and his approach."

Dick Enberg:  "By any measurement, Coach Wooden will always be the greatest coach/teacher/counselor in the history of his sport--perhaps any sport." 

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A SOLITARY PATH!

Sometimes I have to really coax myself to get out of my lazy Sunday afternoon routine and go for a long walk.  Eventually I realize that no one is going to be there to motivate me, so I'd better get moving on my own.  And today is one day that I felt like I'd made an especially wise choice!

Perhaps the best part was having the nearby wooded path to myself.  I am often a creature of solitude, and today was a splendid day for that.  May Sarton, one of my favorite writers once said that "solitude is the richness of self."  So it seemed today!

As I made my way along the path, I heard some rustling above me.  I looked up to see two deer chasing one another.  It made me smile and wish that I'd moved fast enough to capture a picture.  Perhaps it was just as well;

they were doing fine on their own, without being disturbed. Not long after that I stopped and marveled at the beautiful, changing sunset.  It's an amazing feeling to just observe something so perfect and realize that it's YOUR moment in time.  I was happy that no one else was around.

An amazing woman named Sara Teasdale once said, "Look for a lovely thing and you will find it, It is not far--It never will be far."  And it wasn't!

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"IF ONLY WE HAVE EYES TO SEE THEM!"

Yesterday I decided to get voting out of the way early so I could get back to "real life."  To me, that's what being out in nature is all about.  I couldn't wait to get past the polling place, the election chaos, and obnoxious, degrading ads which dominated the airwaves and highways.  I found a safe, serene place, and thankfully it was a perfect spot to spend some "alone time" enjoying the lake and nearby woods.  It wasn't as colorful as October, but it had a unique beauty all its own.  And what a great place to collect your thoughts!  

As John Ruskin once said, "Nature is painting for us, day after day, pictures of infinite beauty if only we have eyes to see them." And I remind myself that those daily pictures of beauty are not just at certain seasons, but every day we allow our eyes to observe them.  Then it's clearly magic!

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A CHERRY PHOSPHATE AND A FEW MOMENTS OF REFLECTION!

There are times when I contemplate what it would be like to live in a small town again.  The Wisconsin town I grew up in had a population of only 1,013.  It didn't seem small at the time, maybe because much larger cities like Milwaukee and Chicago were far away, and we rarely got there.  They seemed drastically different and scared me in some ways--the houses were often close together, the traffic impossible, and scores of people everywhere.  At least when we drove to Milwaukee to watch the Braves play baseball, we had a purpose.

The street I lived on was called Butternut Street.  I've always had a fascination with how streets were named, but I've never figured that one out.  Across the street was an empty field where I played ball for hours at a time.  A block away was a neat and well-maintained ball field with an old grandstand that was classy looking, at least in my mind. 

Driving back to my hometown this past summer, I could still visualize that wonderful old grandstand, which was torn down long ago.  The town has since doubled in size and includes many beautiful new homes, but most of my old landmarks are gone.  Across from my father's furniture store, where I sometimes helped out, was a charming old drugstore where I'd often sit at the counter drinking my favorite cherry phosphates.  No way to describe them!  I don't know if you can still buy a cherry phosphate, but they were truly unique! 

In many ways I had an idyllic childhood in that little town.  One year my dad paid the astoundingly low price of $40 for a family membership at a small country golf course just 13 miles away.  It was good for an entire year!  I played there often with my family and friends.  Of course my friends and I rarely missed a stop at the local root beer stand afterwards. 

And there was ice skating at the local Boy Scout cabin rink, just a block away from my home.  I remember sprint races there, as well as warming up by the fireplace in the cabin.  The hot chocolate provided was a delicious added treat.  But I also remember sitting by the floor register when I came home, hoping that my feet would thaw out soon, and wondering why it was so incredibly painful.  I vowed not to wait so long the next time, but it was rarely different.  A passage of childhood, I guess. 

And of course I remember my mother feeling obliged, because of her Norwegian heritage, to make Lutefisk and Lefse, our once a year Norwegian treat.  My oldest brother and I thought it was delicious, but for days afterwards, our house had a "distinct smell."  The little Norwegian plates made by a neighbor adorned our kitchen and made that special Norwegian food seem even more authentic.

In 1966, when I graduated from high school, there were only 44 students in my class. Fast forward 25 years when my oldest son graduated from a suburban high school in Minneapolis, which had over 2,000 students--twice the size of my whole town. How different our experiences of growing up have been.  He's lived most of his life in large metropolitan areas, but thankfully he does have an appreciation of small towns and the unique and different lifestyle they offer. 

As for myself, I feel like I've truly been blessed to have experienced two different life paths.  Minneapolis has been my home for over 45 years, and it's still fun and exciting for me, with wonderful lakes and parks, sporting venues, theaters, shopping, and the opportunity to meet new people every day.  But I find myself sometimes yearning for a quieter pace, fewer cars and people, and more time to "take it all in."  My wandering spirit has returned.  At times the grass is looking a little greener on the other side, but perhaps it's only temporary.  Cher, the famous American singer and actress once said, "If grass can grow through cement, love can find you at any time in your life."  Taking in that enticing piece of wisdom, I'm eager to embrace a new and special person in my life, as well as fresh faces and new challenges. 

I know that upcoming birthdays at my age (65) cause one to reflect more than usual, and I might be the poster child for that.  But as President Lincoln once said, "In the end, it's not the years in your life that count.  It's the life in your years." I cherish the thought!

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