Author: Mark Peacock

Tonight’s WPCA-FM broadcast of my stories repeated a tale from November, I’ll Cook For You. It’s one of my favorite stories and when read aloud to a group produced an audible “Whew!” as I finished. The cook in question is a young woman who, in the Korean era 1950’s, worked as a personal chef for an old time motion picture couple but also bought and delivered groceries for an elderly woman who remembered and cherished her memories of the romantic film duo. Is all as it seems? Therein lies the tale, inside of which are the lives of some of our rich and famous. The story is one of my longest stories; someone reading it during a lunch break would have to move things along. You’ll find I’ll Cook For You in The First Gathering of The Break Time Stories and in the ebook Yet More Break Time Stories.

Probable coming readings include the Osceola Senior Citizens Club on Wednesday, February 7th and a date to be arranged at the Amery Area Public Library. This blog site will give you the details, so check in a few days from now.

Christmas has come and gone, as has New Years. To finish off 2023, last week’s Gospel told of Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus coming to the Temple for both Mary’s purification ceremony and the baby’s circumcision. A prophet, Anna, and a devout regular in the Temple, Simeon, both attest to the Messiaship of Jesus. I couldn’t resist following the Gospel with Michael Card’s song about Simeon. I try not to inflict my guitar and voice in song on helpless congregations, but this fit so well that I couldn’t resist. My old Mexican guitar (made by an old Mexican) and I got through the song quite well–or at least everyone was polite. Last Sunday, the last day of 2023, saw me at Wolf Creek and Turtle Lake’s Parkview United Methodist Churches. Next week I’m guest preaching in Taylors Falls at the historic United Methodist Church on the hill.

Wolf Creek’s Christmas Eve candlelight service was cozy and family-friendly nice. It was probably the last Christmas service I’ll ever do. The “Wolf Creek Pack”, as they dub themselves, found a cap as a present for me. The cap says, “Pastor Warning: anything you do or say may be used in a sermon.” I’ll wear it when Marina, a retired mental health counselor, wears the sweatshirt I got her: “Keep talking; I’m diagnosing you.”

We have snow at last. It hit the night before New Years Eve and was pretty icy before a small amount of snow landed atop the ice. It was slow going driving to church Sunday morning.  I’d managed to cut and split a good deal of the large elm we had taken down, so now only huge cuts remain. They are large enough so I’ll have to figure out some sort of ramp to get them onto the splitter. If that doesn’t work, then I anticipate burying many wedges in those large elm logs. Elm has fibers that are laced together and all of them must be severed in order to split or separate the pieces.

Where are my kids tonight? One is in Georgia (the EurAsian Georgia, not our State) where he’s played a festival; another is in Upper Michigan for skiing; another is on Roatan, Honduras enjoying the beach; and the other two are within an hour of me and keeping the snow shovels close at hand.

The Amery Area Public Library’s Trevor Richards is working to arrange a February date for me to share two of my short stories. Stay tuned; I’ll let you know when we have a date set. The time probably will be 6:30 p.m.–not too late and not too early.

Also, rumor has it that I’ll be reading at the Osceola Senior Citizens February meeting. That’s the first Wednesday of the month, February 7th, 2024. It’s a 12 Noon potluck and the food at these events is good. We’ll see how well I read on a full stomach!

We had a dead elm tree taken down a few weeks ago. I had the pros at New Richmond Tree do the job. That way there was no way for the tree to hit the house. It had to go into a restricted space and doing that was beyond my capabilities. However, I can cut up the logs and split them, which is what I’ve spent some of this week doing. Fortunately for that kind of work, it has been dry and warm. I’m hoping to complete that job before snow really decides to descend. What a different Winter this has been! Here we are at the end of December and Bone Lake isn’t frozen over.

Whenever I’ve read stories in public from Some Mangled Fairy Tales, the reactions range from giggles to belly laughs. Perhaps someone you know could use even a smile in these stressful times. Some Mangled Fairy Tales is available through Amazon.com and Barnes  & Noble Booksellers for just $10. If you’re within shooting distance or in Polk County, Wisconsin, you’ll find copies at the Polk County Information Center, the pharmacy/gift shops of St.Croix Health (formerly St.Croix Regional Medical Center) and at Pure & Simple on Highway 8. Or if you mug me on the street, I usually carry a copy with me; I’ll even sign it for you! And that’s no fairy tale.

For most of this year I’ve dealt with extreme pain from–we think and can’t prove it–shoveling the extra snow that fell last winter. So thus far this winter we’ve had a couple of light dustings of snow. It has been just enough to shove aside. I think that’s fine but if I were in the ski business most likely I’d think differently. Little snow makes it easier for me to see the logs and scraps that need cutting and splitting from a large elm tree I had the professionals at New Richmond Tree take down for me. Some of the trunk slices are very large and I’ll see how the splitter handles pieces that size.

For several years now WPCA-FM has broadcast my stories the first Tuesday evening of each month. Once in awhile the station forgets to drop in my story and the computerized programming grinds along without it. Tonight was one of those rare times. I’d love it if listeners called the station to complain but if they ever have, I’m not aware of it. Again, I affirm my gratitude to WPCA for sharing my stories. It’s a privilege few writers ever enjoy.

Son Aaron did hit town from Portugal and was with us for three weeks. He was the instigator–and excuse–for a rare family get-together last weekend. Our son-in-law, Steve, did his usual job of producing gourmet and abundant fare, helped out by contributions from some of the family, so there was more than enough food to make the groaning board really groan. Stuffed? For sure! Time goes by so quickly that it was startling to find great-grandson Carter now is a fifth grader. Aaron is an excellent musician and he and I enjoyed jamming with our guitars. He showed me some new flamenco progressions that I’ll practice–if I can remember them. He was here for Thanksgiving, which was small for us: just Marina, me, Aaron, and Britta and her husband Mark. Our gathering was small but loud and turkey got subbed by pork tenderloin and some vegan fare.

Alice’s husband, Hugh, sent along a video of his seven week trek by canoe into the Arctic. The six man group, all in their 60’s and former Kooch-i-ching campers as kids, produced a gorgeous video and their adventure made the Minneapolis Star & Tribune. Not to be outdone, just returned from a brief West Coast tour daughter Alice forwarded me a link to an interview done by Fox News in Cincinnati at the soccer championships that featured herself and Samantha, our effervescent granddaughter. Sam’s and her brother Jack’s soccer club were special guests of the Cincinnati team and, in addition to accompanying team members onto the field, were given extra special attention, even by Fox News that broadcast the game. For our family, it was a month for media attention.

We are into the Advent season. I remember Advent primarily as preparation for the birth of Jesus, but this year’s cycle of lectionary readings focuses a great deal on Jesus’ second coming. The circumstances prompting that are dark, as dark as our world seems to be in these moments. Yet, there is hope for better. Each year, celebrating that birth so long ago brings the opportunity to renew hope for the future. For Christians, that future includes the eternal, as well as hoping and looking for peace on earth and goodwill toward each other in the present. As an old Bishop told me once, “Always give God the last word.” So we don’t give up hope. This will be my last Christmas with the Wolf Creek congregation and if I can, I want to convey to them my gift that they can enter the future with optimism, building on their successes and by living out what we say we believe, make the world in which Wolf Creek exists a better place. May it be so!

Last night’s story broadcast on WPCA-FM was I’ll Cook For You. It’s one of my favorite stories, a little longer than most at almost 30 minutes, and whenever I’ve read it in public it has produced a strong emotional response. When I read it in the Milltown Library a few years ago, as I finished there was an audible “Whew!” As a writer, you want to stir something in the reader and this story does just that. You can find it online in Yet More Break Time Stories and in the paperback, The First Gathering Of The Break Time Stories. The paperback is available through Amazon.com. The story is set in Korean War era southern California, a time when there still were a few pre-war cars with running boards on the road and milkmen delivered milk and eggs to your door.

I have been working on helping Marina with Gretel The Gift, a recounting of Marina’s first Seeing Eye dog and Andy, her second, told in the dogs’ own words. It’s cute as all get-out. When it’s ready, we are not sure where to try to park it but I think there will be interest in it and many potential readers.

Son Aaron hits town in a few weeks, so we should have some good family gatherings while he’s here from Portugal. Daughter Alice has a couple of shows at McCabe’s in Santa Monica, California. She’s been there before. I think she also has shows in Ohio and Michigan sometime between now and Spring. You can check those out on her website. Meanwhile, the snow is holding off and the lake seems to be later than usual in its freeze. I have everything in, courtesy of help from Grandson Hans and son-in-law Mark. That’s a definite concession to age on my part but I truly appreciate the help. My brother, Guy, continues on life support in California two months now into his second year following a horrific car accident. My prayer is that God would do for him what’s best for him. Last week Marina hosted a birthday lunch in memory of our departed daughter, Heide. Daughters Britta and Hannah met us at The Watershed in Osceola.

Too many funerals lately. I did a large one honoring Rick Davidsavor, a treasured First Responder, Fireman, EMT, firearms instructor and who knows what else. He was honored last year by the State of Wisconsin as one of our heroes. After two hours of greeting family, the line waiting outside the Cushing Community Center was as long as the line inside the building. I’ve never presided over a Firefighter’s funeral, but with all of those volunteers lined up at attention around the perimeter of the building and the Life Link helicopter giving its salute by hovering overhead, it was most impressive. Too many other people we care about have passed on in the last several weeks. Live long enough and I suppose one experiences that.

I’ve informed our Wolf Creek congregation and the Conference that I’ll be packing it in as of the end of June, 2024. What will I do after that? Plenty! I may even have some new stories emerge, as they have in the past, between 3 a.m. and 5 a.m. From the time I was dredged from retirement to pastor Wolf Creek again, creative preoccupation has gone into weekly sermons instead of stories and there have been no new tales working in my brain. So, we shall see. I might even be able to catch up on the dusting our place needs!

Well, the great Mountain Stage-Kids broadcast has run its course, so WPCA-FM has moved my story broadcast time back to its original slot at 7:00 p.m. on the first Tuesday evening of each month. That change begins on November 7th. I’ve been grateful to WPCA for broadcasting my stories. It’s a privilege few writers get and my words cannot express my gratitude enough. I do listen myself, mostly to see which story they will broadcast but also to cringe about my poor diction; it has been lost over the sixty years since I did radio on a regular basis.

Tonight’s WPCA-FM broadcast of my stories featured Hansel and Gertie, another “mangled” fairy tale. Per usual, this story is larded with terrible puns and a few hidden chuckles (hidden, until you think about what was just thrown at you). I never know which stories WPCA will broadcast so it’s fun to find out and then to bemoan my sloppy diction, which was better years ago.

My in-person reading at the St.Croix Falls Public Library on September 21st went well. One attendee, Diane Dedon, who had attended my last reading there in 2017, said the two stories I shared “Brought us full circle, from tears to belly laughs.” I appreciate the comment. The first story, Lost Wax, brought me to tears the first two times I read it aloud in my office, so Marina thought it was a risk to read it in public. I got through it without tears, at least on my part. The second story, Snow Job and The Four Dwarfs, brought plenty of laughs, as it does every time I read it in public. Both stories are included in Six Short Stories, the book recommended as good summer reading by Mary Ann Grossmann, book editor for the St.Paul Pioneer Press. I treasure that praise, especially because someone who publishes independently does not have a publishing house to push one’s book and place it before book editors and critics. I find, though, that praise and a good review like Ms. Grossmann’s doesn’t necessarily result in huge book sales, especially if one is not well known.

The St.Croix Falls reading did not turn out a large crowd. Amery’s first poet laureate, LaMoine MacLaughlin, told me years ago that writers never seem to draw a crowd for readings. I knew almost everyone attending and I am grateful that they took the time to come. A couple of other writers were in attendance, including Lois Joy Hofmann, whose three prize winning volumes about their circumnavigation are beautifully written and photographed, and Shaila Johnson, reporter for the Inter County Leader.

Meanwhile, life goes on. Our Wolf Creek congregation lost an important member, Rick Davidsavor, whose funeral I will preside over on Sunday, October 8th. I saw Rick as a patriarch. Much of his life was devoted to helping other people through his involvement in being a first responder, Cushing Fire Department’s second-in-command fire chief, Polk County law enforcement, firearm safety educator, EMT and a whole bunch of other things. Last Sunday’s Epistle text was from Paul’s Letter to the early church at Philippi in which he exhorted them to put the concerns of others ahead of their own. Rick’s life was a great example of that. Why, he probably could not have articulated but he made a positive difference in our larger community and was honored for it by the State of Wisconsin just last year.

Grandson Hans and son-in-law Mark helped me pull the dock from the lake yesterday. We had beautiful, if unusually warm, weather for early October and the guys made it an easy job that took us just 15 minutes. That called for treats afterwards, generously supplied by daughter Britta. We’d seen Britta and her husband Mark the week before when I was chasing around in Minnesota for a medical consultation and testing that also gave Marina and me a chance to lunch with our younger son, John, who is someone we don’t see often enough. We ate at a Tibetan restaurant in Northeast Minneapolis. The food was fine but, truth be known, I’d like to find a cozy little French restaurant. Surely, a metropolitan area like ours should have a couple of those. Maybe they are a bit out of fashion today, but I liked them when I was young and wouldn’t mind finding at least one good one today.

The leaves are falling now and many of our trees have Fall colors. We have many maples on our property and the surrounding woods are beautiful in the Fall. Today, I took the first mower run through the yard to chop up some of the leaves. There will be plenty left to rake and take to the back. The mini-garden Britta and Mark created for us is producing a prodigious crop of beans and cucumbers and there are still a couple of tomatoes ripening in the sun. Critters took plenty of liking to our squash and zucchini, although I may be able to salvage a few before the frost hits. We’ve had record setting heat but things are supposed to cool down tomorrow.

Tonight’s WPCA-FM story broadcast was Annika’s Angel, a tale of a group of long-time friends that finds the conviction of one of them that she and her husband experienced an angel to be upsetting and even divisive. It’s a good little story with dialogue that opens up each character’s belief/disbelief in angels. There are some laughs in the story and the ending may even prompt a reader to tears.

I’m excited to be reading my stories at the St.Croix Falls Public Library on September 21st at 7 p.m. I’ll read from Six Short Stories, the book recommended as good summer reading by Mary Ann Grossman, book editor for the St.Paul Pioneer Press. I have a soft spot in my heart for the SCF Library because it was the first library reading I did back in 2017. That was followed by a series of library readings in Polk County and in Minnesota, as well as readings for groups, arts centers, on the radio (WPCA-FM that continues to broadcast a story of mine each month) and twice as a fund raiser for St.Croix Festival Theater.

Labor Day saw daughter Britta and her family joining Marina and me for a pontoon ride and picnic. We had the picnic but a dead battery put the kibosh on putting down the coast to show grandson Bjorn and his wife where he’d spent time growing up. Our weather of late has been quite hot, setting records and prompting warnings for heatstroke. Nevertheless, yours truly did some heavy duty log splitting of large logs donated by a neighbor. My woodpile is looking nicely prepared for winter!

August marked 55 years of marriage for Marina and me. In addition to an enjoyable dinner with daughter, Hannah and her family, we celebrated our anniversary a bit early by participating in a St.Croix River paddlewheel luncheon cruise. The details of this marriage were plotted on the St.Croix at the Afton House restaurant with my then-boss and his then-wife. Would I do it again? Yup! My best decision ever. An easy 55 years? Who are you kidding?

My near life-long friend Christina Capps sent me photos of an expansion under construction of the house in which I grew up. She took the pictures from the fire road that runs along the flank of Blackfoot, the mountain peak next to Mount Hollywood and must have used a very powerful telephoto lens. My parents bought the place just after WWII. It was probably the smallest house in the Hollywood Knolls,  a smart move for young couple aspiring to a good neighborhood and good schools. My back yard was undeveloped, as it remains today, an oasis in the middle of a major urban area, and a boy and his dog could roam and explore mountain-tops and small creeks, gather pollywogs and shoot a bow and arrow with not much to worry about except for rattlesnakes and poison oak. I’ve written about that in a memoir to my family. It was a remarkable growing up, extraordinarily privileged despite barely-making-it finances after my parents’ divorce.

Wolf Creek UMC now enjoys a nice rotation of musicians for Sunday services. Calvin and Karen Johnson returned to the area and have re-joined us. Karen plays and joins Deb Lind Schmitz, Cheryl Hustad, and Shawn Gudmundsen as our musical team. Each brings a special personal quality to their musical offerings and I think the diversity is something the congregation enjoys. Attendance is up nicely, too. I still don’t know who watches us on You Tube (Wolf Creek United Methodist Church services) but we do have viewers. And since we believe in the power of prayer and see prayers answered, we have a long list of names that we pray for, not just on Sundays but during the week as our members take the list home to pray for those on the list. Our list isn’t getting shorter; people know we will pray for them and we receive new names every week.

Last night’s WPCA-FM story broadcast was I Loved That Bike!, a tale about a guy’s love for two women and a motorcycle and how he ended up in a coma. The story was written a couple of years before my brother, Guy, ended up in a coma from a horrific car accident almost eleven months ago out in California. Irony. It is a good story and– modesty aside– it was read well. You can find I Loved That Bike! in the paperback Six Short Stories and online in the Another Four Break Time Stories collection. The paperbacks are available through Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble Booksellers.

Family-wise, the college crowd is sliding inexorably toward classes resuming the end of this month, while the school-age bunch looks forward to football practice coming soon and the end to summer canoe and backpacking treks, as well as free time for art. Me? I have some time to devote to catching up on needed stuff (like painting window trim at our  Luck property and digging out the many volunteer trees here at home) because Marina’s bum knee has been told to rest from swimming regularly at the Osceola pool. I’ve had an unexpected series of medical center visits for the pain in my side. A CT scan resulted in discovery of a rare inflammation in the lining of my abdominal wall. I’m not going to say more about it; I’ve always declared that I would not be one of those geezers who gives people an “organ recital” when asked “How are you?” Amid all this, our pontoon boat down at the lake suffers from neglect.

At Wolf Creek UMC, attendance is up consistently. That’s gratifying. Our new District Superintendent, Peace Kim, is proving to be the Servant Leader he hopes to be. We have good musicians consistently providing the music help we need during our services and we are blessed by having several members of the congregation that can take over a service in my absence.

I am scheduled to connect with the St.Croix Falls Public Library later this month to arrange a date for story reading, probably some time in September or early October.

Writers yearn for professional acknowledgement of their work, so it was a delight to find St.Paul Pioneer Press’ Mary Ann Grossmann’s recommending my fourth paperback, Six Short Stories,  as good summer reading. Mary Ann is a regional treasure and has been boosting Minnesota and local writers for many years. Here’s what she had to say in the Sunday, July 16, 2023 edition:

The Headline: Three Books To Relax With

“It’s the time of the year for easy reading so today we offer three well written paperbacks that will entertain you on the screen porch, at the cabin or in a hammock.” She then summarized two books by women. When she got to me, she wrote:

“Six Short Stories by Mark Hayes Peacock (independently published, $12) “There had been a shooting, a murder, and both Charlene and Derek seem to be implicated, or, at least, both had motives for doing in Randall Dodge. And as a priest, I have an interest in honesty, truth and justice. Maybe it’s just that I’ve seen too many television movies about priests who somehow manage to solve mysteries, which, on the surface, seems way out of character.” – from “Six Short Stories”

“In his fourth short story collection Peacock, of Luck, Wis., introduces us to a variety of intriguing characters. There’s Bomber, who solves two problems at once by shooting a politician. There’s a paralyzed guy who listens to two women he loves argue about keeping him on life support while he thinks of how he loved the bike (motorcycle) that almost got him killed. A priest tries to find justice in a story with a surprise ending, and a letter from a man’s dead mother leads to bitter disappointment.A sweet story tells of how a devoted wife guides her husband’s career as a sculptor and the final story is a funny ‘mangled fairytale’ featuring the retired seven dwarfs.”

What a delightful and satisfying thing to come home to find! Marina and I had been to Minneapolis’ Caspian Restaurant to lunch with a former student of mine, his wife and daughter. “Fred” has become a very successful programmer, with some of his work rocketing into space. After 53 years, it is a fine experience to be able to keep in touch with people who fulfilled the promise we thought they would have when we admitted them to Macalester College. Back then, Mac was dubbed “The Harvard of the Midwest” and my job was to help people from 32 different countries succeed in a foreign and very high-test environment. Some of them give me more credit than I deserve for their subsequent success, but the truth is that I simply had scholarship money and a welcoming institution, as well as an International Center and an excellent orientation outline to help them as they began their college experience. (To the Middle Eastern students: “Hamburgers are beef!”) Also, I was not much older than most of my advisees so the age barrier was minimal: I was a lot like they were.

All in all, Sunday was a most satisfying day. I’d love to have more of them!