All Jacked Up

Tonight’s WPCA-FM story broadcast was my mangled fairy tale Jack and The Bean Sprouts, a tale that came from an informal survey I took during a Monday chat group session at Good Samaritan Care Center, where I served nine years as one of its chaplains. The poll asked which fairy tale they liked most when they were children. The winner: Jack and the Beanstalk. That HAD to become Jack and the Bean Sprouts. You can find the story in my paperback, The Second Gathering of The Break Time Stories and online in Four More Break Time Stories. Again, I thank WPCA for broadcasting my stories each month.

Marina is recuperating well after a setback since my last blog post. This trip to Regions Hospital in downtown St.Paul, Minnesota lacked the drama of her first trip there: instead of a helicopter trip, this one was made by ambulance at 3 a.m. I see her getting stronger each day and two days ago she was able to walk the length of our block and back. She walks our ramp, a covered walkway that runs the length of our house. We’ve had some heavy Spring snow lately so the covered-but-fresh-air walkway is a blessing. We credit our son, Aaron, for that improvement. While she has been busy improving, there have been many follow-up medical visits and tests and those have absorbed much of our time. I’ve found it all very tiring.

Marina has been writing more of her life story, which I will edit and try to organize. “Edit” really means that I correct spelling and straighten out the very occasional German sentence with the verb at the end. As with her book, Gretel and Andy, God’s Gift; The Lives of Two Seeing Eye Dogs, Marina has a nice way of telling the stories she wants to tell.

As always, I very much appreciate the warm welcomes I’ve been given at Taylors Falls and Wolf Creek United Methodist Churches. March saw me filling in at both congregations. It’s fun for me at both; I know the names of most all the people by now and they know me. Still, they re-invite me.

Derailed

I write many of these blogs just after the monthly broadcast of my stories on WPCA-FM radio. I can talk about the story broadcast and consider how it comes off after some years in print. But last night was different. Marina had suffered a heart attack on February 28th and had been airlifted from St.Croix Falls to Regions Hospital in downtown St.Paul, Minnesota. That’s a two hour drive for us. Andy, Marina’s Seeing Eye Dog (and one of the authors of the book Gretel and Andy, God’s Gift; The Lives of Two Seeing Eye Dogs)  and I drove and “lived” at Regions for several days, bringing Marina home last night amid one of those wonderful Spring Minnesota/Wisconsin blizzards. We got in the house at 8 p.m.; the story broadcast began at 7 p.m. so I have no idea which story the station chose to broadcast. (Small voice: “They’re all good so it doesn’t matter!”)

Marina is doing well and recuperating quickly. The prognosis is good. We do have a blizzard of pills to deal with and that is something new; we have not been “pill people” and are rarely sick, so this is a new chapter. Our faith in the Lord gets us through everything.

I do have to mention my pleasure in the teamwork and gathering together of our adult children. What a pleasure to see that happen and how wonderful to experience it! Together, they provided us support, both physical and emotional, as well as putting to work investigative time and effort with very good results. They put in time at the hospital with us and had a very effective communications chain to keep everyone in the loop. Bravo, team!

On another subject, I have an initial bit of interest from St.Croix Festival Theater for me to do another story reading evening as a fund raiser for them. We shall see if anything further develops.

You may note that another church service has been added to the month of March. I’ll be doing two services each Sunday on the 16th and 23rd preceded by one 10 a.m. service on this coming Sunday, March 9th. So when people ask me, “How do you like retirement?”. . . .

Catching Up and Reading Stories

This week I was able to do some catching up with Peter Kwong, who writes a regular column for the Burnett Sentinel and is a celebrity chef and restaurant consultant. I don’t get to see the Sentinel often but when Peter wrote for the Inter County Leader, his schtick was to play the ignorant immigrant with “so much to learn” about the USA. In the process of playing that out, Peter was able to show us ourselves in revealing ways and in ways we’d probably never thought about. It was brilliant. Over coffee this week at Pure & Simple (they have my “mangled” fairy tale books for sale) Peter caught me up on Chinese New Years. It is the Year of the Snake and Peter’s columns about that observance deal with the legend of the white and green snakes. It’s pretty complicated so it’s taken Peter two weekly columns of explain the whole story. I enjoyed our “catching up” and look forward to more in the near future.

Last night I read two stories at the Amery Area Public Library. Our host was Trevor Richards, who leaves soon to become the director of the library in Bruce, Wisconsin. Turnout was small–five people, including Trevor–but the response was very positive to my reading The Great Experiment and Little Red Hoodie. Those stories can be found in The First Gathering of The Break Time Stories and The Second Gathering of The Break Time Stories. LaMoine MacLaughlin was one of the attendees, which was an honor for me since LaMoine contributed a positive introduction to each of my story collections and took first prize for fiction/short stories from the Wisconsin State Arts and Letters organization and served as Amery’s first Poet Laureate to boot! Years ago LaMoine told me readings by writers never draw much of a crowd and sometimes I’ve found that to be true. In Amery, a 6 p.m. reading doesn’t draw many people, even with good PR and a history of reading stories at the Northern Lakes Center for the Arts, as a fund raiser to help resurrect the old movie theater, and after several years of having my stories broadcast each month on WPCA-FM radio. However, long ago I decided in church that even if only one person showed up that I’d give them the best shot I could and I do the same for anyone who shows up for one of my story readings. Besides, reading my stories aloud is fun–and I know the author.

Muddled Understandings

Living with someone who’s hearing impaired can lead to interesting conversations. Marina and I were talking about where we might go when living where we do no longer is viable.

Me: “Wherever you go, there are always hassles.”

Marina: “Yes, I agree. Wherever you are there are always assholes.”

Um, yeah.

Bombers Away on WPCA!

Tonight’s WPCA-FM story was We Gotta Help Bomber! Bomber being the small town local hero who wound up being trapped in town by his big football win against the town’s hated larger rival. There always was someone–or many people–willing to hear yet again Bomber’s story of the big game. Bomber was big hearted but his work history consisted of a series of temporary local jobs so his retirement income was limited and when the out-of-town company bought his apartment building and raised the rent, Bomber faced being homeless. His friends at the coffee shop determined to help him.

We Gotta Help Bomber! is my most recent story and can be found in the Six Short Stories paperback and online in Another Four Short Stories. I agree with St.Paul Pioneer Press book editor/critic Mary Ann Grossmann’s assessment that my characters are interesting and well developed. How could I not? Seriously though, I listen to my readings of stories critically and I’m pretty much able to step back, especially after some time, as in the case of the Bomber story, and give a story some judgment. Some stories are better read on the page than heard, mostly because the dialogue gets complicated or the talking is between too many people and some stories work well both ways. As with some of my other stories, this story ends with a bit of a surprise twist: “As I said, no one ever said Bomber was stupid.”

Holy Grandpa

My in-house Grandma to her Granddaughter: “Do you mean to tell me you bought those jeans new with all those holes?” Granddaughter: “Yes!”

And so this morning I led Grandma’s fingers to the hole in my shirt sleeve with my now scrawny elbow poking through. “Do you think it’s time to toss this shirt?”

It is one of my favorite shirts, but now the collar I had turned is all frayed (again) and the sleeve cuffs I had turned have separations and the right sleeve’s elbow has that nice juicy hole. I’ve looked around and have been unable to find anything close to this shirt. It’s brown with small black squares so it can pair with just about anything. It is flannel so it’s just right for inside in Winter or the shoulder seasons. Lately, I’ve worn it while at home but I’m aware of its condition so I change shirts if I expect to be out in public. Even tossing a sweater over the shirt can’t hide the flaws anymore. I gave myself a new shirt for Christmas this year but it’s a “close but no cigar” shirt. Yes, parting is such sweet sorrow and I’m afraid this old shirt/rag will have to go. Maybe it can live on as a dusting rag? I’m reluctant to find out.

At Wolf Creek

Yesterday, I took the service at Wolf Creek United Methodist Church. I pastored there previously, from 1997-2008 and then again from 2018-2024 so they know me and I have experienced their embrace and generosity. It’s a small congregation that works together well and values the importance of each person under its umbrella. They have survived pastoral mistreatment and recovered well; they have my respect. Even in the face of losing key members, the congregation has embarked on new ministries, including a quilting group that is open to just about anyone.

So yesterday the place was nicely filled and we had a good service and coffee hour afterwards. It does feel good to be welcomed back warmly. I am grateful.

Yes, I am scheduled to read a couple of stories on Thursday, February 20th at 6 p.m. at the Amery Area Public Library. This will be my second time to read my stories at the Amery Library. I am present in Amery the first Tuesday of each month at 7 p.m. via radio on WPCA-FM (91.3) and in the past I’ve read from my stories at what was then the Northern Lakes Center For The Arts. The date of the Library reading needs to be firmly confirmed but I’m told the date most likely will remain as scheduled. Amery’s Bowman Collective has all my books and Marina’s Seeing Eye Dog book available for sale.

Grassroots Self-Government

Last night I had the privilege of chairing the caucus of the Georgetown Township, where I live. This was my second year at the privilege and it went well. We had four positions to fill: a chairperson, two supervisors, and a treasurer. The turnout was small, which is too bad for our experiment in self-rule, and the nominees for the open positions were few. It’s a lot of work to serve one’s fellow citizens and, yes, the positions are paid–but not much. Townships deal with keeping up the roads and seeing to it that we have fire protection. (The latter is no small item; fewer people are available for volunteer fire and first responder duty so small fire departments and ambulance services are trying to stitch together webs of shared departments.) There are zoning issues and building permits that need approval prior to going to our County. And sometimes there is a shouting match, such as a recent dispute over wake boats/wake boarding and the damage they can do to shallow lakes, especially. In this instance, the shouting was not directed at the Town Board members, unlike the anger unloaded by people upset about their property re-assessment and its higher value reflected in their property tax.

I have respect for those who serve us despite the negatives involved and I am struck by the importance and even the symbolism of this simple democratic process: we gather together, we nominate people we choose as those who will serve us, we vote to determine who those people will be, and then we move on with the jobs that need to be done. It’s government from the bottom up!

In The Shadow Of The Casino

Today has been bitterly cold. As I write this on January 19th, tonight’s temperature is projected to hit 19 below zero with a high tomorrow of minus 8 degrees. The cold cut down attendance at Parkview United Methodist Church in Turtle Lake, a town about half an hour east of my home. I served for 4 1/2 months as Parkview’s Interim Pastor. They have always been most gracious and welcoming to me and know the people well enough to be able to call them out by name during sharing times in the worship service, as well as before and after the service. So the crowd this morning was not a crowd but we had a worthwhile experience together and ended with a rousing hail to “This Is The Day The Lord Has Made!”

Next Sunday I’m at Wolf Creek United Methodist Church. Service time is 8:15 a.m. and for years now Marina has been amazed that I am able to function effectively at that hour. Maybe somewhere in my distant ancestry there were farmers?

One of the women at Parkview ordered Marina’s book from Amazon and said she loved it! When she finished, she donated the book to the church library for others to enjoy. Marina’s book, Gretel and Andy, God’s Gift; The Lives of Two Seeing Eye Dogs. also can be found at Bowman Collective in downtown Amery, Wisconsin. The Collective has all four of my paperbacks, as does Kenneth Larson in Luck. Pure and Simple, the home of great wild rice soup, has my Some Mangled Fairy Tales, as does St.Croix Health’s pharmacy/gift shops.  Polk County’s Information Center also has all four of my books.

Daughter Hannah called just before the cold hit to see if we might need anything to prepare for it. Daughter Britta and her husband Mark took the trouble to trek to our place for some visiting and to bring us a “care package” of home-made lasagna and some cookies and our Portugal based son, Aaron, phoned his usual weekly check-in this afternoon. Marina and I feel cared about, blessed and are grateful.

And So

And so yesterday afternoon Marina gave her encore presentation of her book, Gretel and Andy, God’s Gift; The Lives of Two Seeing Eye Dogs, as the Osceola Senior Center. It was a potluck, so the good food and good people were there, as well as a few of Marina’s swimming pool buddies. I read a selection of the book in Gretel’s voice (not falsetto) [I Go To The Zoo] and a section of Andy’s [I Go Shopping] and then Marina took questions. Per usual, she did a great job and also per usual, she left people wanting more. She has a compelling way of speaking that draws people in. I am very proud of her.

We began a new chapter in life today when Lacey came for the first time to clean our place . What a difference! Everything sparkles! I find it a pleasure to see people do just about anything extremely well. Mid-cleaning, I absented myself for a mens’ meeting that took up the topic of people who don’t do much of anything well, especially when it comes to people other than themselves.

And as I write this, we–finally–have some snow falling. What a contrast to Los Angeles, where what Marina and I knew has disappeared in flames. Fortunately, the Getty Villa has been spared (so far). It was there in Mr. Getty’s seldom visited home that I had an arts education. It was a cheap date: no admission charge but you had to make a reservation because parking space at the house was limited. Each of my visits featured a tour led by a different docent, who usually came from a University faculty, most often UCLA. Seeing Greek and Roman sculpture through the eyes of different people illuminated new and different aspects of the art form, and learning about the mercury process involved in gilding Louis IV furniture gave me a “by the way” observation that my future boss said instantly focused his attention on what I might bring to the job he eventually hired me to do. So, thank you, Mr. Getty, for sharing your house and your personal taste in the fine arts. I pray that the Getty Villa (which had no sign out front to announce its presence, as I see it has now) will continue to be spared from the flames.