Tonight’s WPCA-FM story broadcast was a story for fourth grade boys called Freddie And The Giant’s Blocks, a tale about a misplaced geometry assignment that spawned three distinctly different additions to a family’s lakeside cabin. Thinking about the origins of what is a very fanciful tale prompted me to remember my first reactions to large rolls of hay dotting fields of green. They reminded me of game pieces a giant may have left behind in some farmer’s field. Back when we had Molly, our Shetland pony, I did not have the machinery to handle such massive gatherings of hay and the traditional rectangular hay bales were becoming hard to find. But those large rolls of hay have made life easier for any farmer with livestock in the field and I see them used regularly at a horse farm just up the road from us. Freddie is one of my shortest stories and clocks in at just over 12 minutes, which met my goal of writing a story that could be read completely during one’s break. A reader could take a break, read, and still get back to work on time.
This past weekend saw a large funeral for Rick Stage, a multi-talented man of God who shed life as a rock musician to become a much-loved family man and a sincere, determined Christian. The family had planned the service; it featured recorded music by Rick and his son, Ben, which prompted someone to remark that Rick was one of the few guys who was able to sing at his own funeral. In addition to Wolf Creek’s usual Sunday service, I did the eulogy at Naomi McLean’s memorial service that was held on her birthday. She was a remarkable woman, warm, welcoming and smart, as well as a crack shot with a rifle. Naomi was one of those women who made sure that when you visited you didn’t leave hungry. Marina and Naomi really enjoyed each other. Wolf Creek also celebrated the 90th and 95th birthdays of two of its members.
My successor (for the next year at least) at Wolf Creek will be Jack Starr, pastor of the Osceola United Methodist Church. Jack all share the pulpit with two (probably) other volunteer lay people from around the Northwest District. Jack is fortunate in that Wolf Creek is not a needy congregation and has no negative undercurrents. They have more money in the checking account that they’ve ever had (since 1882), people work together easily on projects, there are no fights about who controls the kitchen (it’s everybody’s) and there is a new quilting/walking ministry that has drawn together some of the women in the church. Several new “friends” have been attending regularly and some of them have been so involved they are as good as “official” members. For a church in the middle of nowhere and with an 8:15 a.m. service, they are doing very well! I will miss the people very much. I will not miss Statistical Reports, the relentless push each week to come up with something that might be worth listening to each Sunday(I don’t use notes so I have no file of old sermons I can dip into and pull out something to update and use), the ever-spinning church year (didn’t we just DO Christmas?), and the too-often platitudes of church leaders.
Our weather has been chilly at night still and rainy (still) but the dock will go in this Saturday with the help of my son-in-law, Mark and my grandson, Hans. Help with the dock is a new concession to age for me. Hans graduates this year and will head off to train with Youth With A Mission this Fall. He gave his pitch for financial help to Wolf Creek last week and pulled it off well. (One woman called him”Adorable and admirable”)–not a bad impression to make.
Today featured replacing a light switch in the Luck house and noting the level of water in the basement. Luck is built on a swamp and very few houses have dry basements. I picked up some waders for Saturday’s dock work because the water still will be COLD. My last waders featured interesting holes gnawed in them by chipmunks enjoying the comforts of the large shed in our yard. I didn’t enjoy the results of their feasting.