Ghost Dance

"Today is the anniversary of the massacre at Wounded Knee, which took place in South Dakota in 1891. Twenty-two years earlier, the local tribes had signed a treaty with the United States government that guaranteed them the rights to the land around the Black Hills, which was sacred land.

But in the 1870s, gold was discovered in the Black Hills, and the treaty was broken. People from the Sioux tribe were forced onto a reservation, with a promise of more food and supplies, which never came. Then in 1889, a prophet named Wovoka, from the Paiute tribe in Nevada, had a vision of a ceremony that would renew the earth, return the buffalo, and cause the white men to disappear. This ceremony was called the Ghost Dance. The Ghost Dance scared the white Indian Agents, and they moved in to arrest Chief Sitting Bull, who was killed in the attempt.

The next leader they focused on was Sitting Bull's half-brother, Chief Big Foot. He was leading his people to the Pine Ridge reservation, seeking safety there. But it was winter, 40 degrees below zero, and he contracted pneumonia.

Big Foot was sick, he was flying a white flag, and he was one of the leaders who had actually renounced the Ghost Dance. But the Army didn't make distinctions. They intercepted Big Foot's band and ordered them into the camp on the banks of the Wounded Knee Creek.

The next morning, federal soldiers began confiscating their weapons, and a scuffle broke out between a soldier and an Indian. The federal soldiers opened fire, killing almost 300 men, women, and children, including Big Foot.

One of the survivors was the famous medicine man Black Elk, who told his story to John Neihardt in Black Elk Speaks (1932)." From The Writer's Almanac, December 29, 2008

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

This is the way of life. If you see something that appeals to you, you'd better memorize it because it is quite likely not to be there a moment later.

Fun with Ice

In Finland and perhaps in some places in the U.S. people place candles beside the graves of their loved ones. It must be a beautiful sight on a quiet dark night under the fir trees. Ice Candles are lots of fun when it gets so cold one cannot stand it.

Ice Candles

Merry Christmas To Each of You!
It is Christmas Eve. We have six large glistening ice candles. Five by the front door, one on the table. Candles are much better than solar lights. The frugal, creative Finns on both sides of the Atlantic have a very good thing going with these wonderful candle holders. On Christmas Eve in Finland they put them in their churchyard cemeteries. It must be a beautiful sight for people going to candle light services.

We too, will go to the seven o'clock services at Holy Cross Lutheran Church. The Living Nativity was canceled due to the -17 degrees. The person who has the animals, refused to have them out for several hours in that cold night. I suspect the Bethlehem crowd was relieved, especially the bare legged Centurion and the beautiful choir of angels.

May each of you have a Holy, Blessed Christmas!

If You Want to Feel at Home, Stay at Home

We are about as traditional as we can get. We are baking Finnish Cardamom Braids and freezing Ice Candles. It is supposed to get below zero tonight and I am counting on two more buckets of ice. A son told me that instead of candles in them, he used those little solar lights and they work well. I suppose sometime in the morning hours as the batteries are about dead they even flicker.

We are expecting a son, daughter-in-law, and their daughter who is a young woman already; they will be here for an early lunch, which is actually a main meal. He Who.... went out and came home with a standing rib roast. That is a first time and it is a pricey piece of beef to practice on.

This year Omaha will have snow for Christmas. Maybe even a blizzard tomorrow, who knows? That is an exciting prospect now that we are retired and still have the sense not to lock ourselves out of the house without our coats, or wander off and not find our way home. I think that someone can make a fortune when they put GPS with voice directions into those nifty little hearing aids that they sell these days.

Yes, after nearly a year, I still love my little hearing instrument. I found out that when I lock down the battery and if I get it in my ear fast enough it plays a little tune for me. Nano technology is really wonderful. I think I can get a little MP3 device to play music through it. I am serious, the nice lady told me it is available.

Christmas Eve in Omaha 2007

Don't you love winter scenes! Snow and ice capture one's imagination. Unless of course you have to work outside. I found last year's Christmas Eve photo. I am going to be happy with it. But we could be a little more cheerful than we are.

Our childish dependent 28 year old disregarded all of my darling's advice and expectant requests of the past many warm weeks, so last night and today in zero weather he drove halfway downtown to check the antifreeze in her car. With cold fingers he dropped the cap from the reservoir, couldn't find it and is there again today in a -20' windchill to get the car towed to a garage to have that fixed among other things.

A wise pastor that I read daily wrote in his meditations that only when a child gets their own car and place to live and pays for both can she be considered an adult. So HWMBO pays for it in many ways. I was written out of the picture when she was 15 as was my philosophy of raising children to be responsible and respectable adults. It is easy for me to sidestep the parenting guilt; but being spat at, cursed, with hateful words, are harder to duck than a size 10 Iraqi shoe.

Caught in the Act!

He Who Must Be Obeyed loves vegetables; and he likes them the way he likes them, blackened with herbs and seasonings. A few summers ago the chunks were larger and skewered for the grill. This Finn likes hers bare with butter, haven't seen that for a long while.

Is it Christmas yet? Where is the snow? Time to get out the Carols on CD's. Our street is alive with lights once it gets dark.

Chihuly to Russell and Remmington

Dale Chihuly exhibited in Omaha a few years ago. It was during the years that I volunteered in the Joslyn Art Museum Library. The opening was mind blowing.

We just returned from Oklahoma City and enjoyed the art in their Museums. Downtown we saw American Impressionism and they purchased the entire Chihuly traveling exhibit.
The glass and lights are spectacular



Then we amost ran through the Cowboy section of the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum as it was getting late and nearly closing time. The paintings and sculptures were amazing. I recall my dad buying Charles Russell calendars and books when I was a child.

Guess who was very happy to see Ed Lemmon's name on the Cowboy Hall of Fame!Yes, Oklahoma is cowboy country.

WhiteHouse Ornament from Nebraska

NEBRASKA
"The sun rises over land
that has long rewarded
a hard day's work."

I looked over a few States
ornaments. Marty Amsler
has created beauty from the
inspiration of our citizens.

Every State has submitted an
ornament to the White House
tree.

A Hiring Guide

Our own Oracle of Omaha has written a book and his 47th bit of advice for business is this:

In looking for someone to hire, you look for three qualities: integrity, intelligence, and energy. But the most important is integrity, because if they don’t have that, the other two qualities, intelligence and energy, are going to kill you.

There are a lot of folks out there looking for jobs. It goes back to what parents are teaching their children apparently. Intelligence and energy come with the bundle of joy without too much coaching from the adults in a child's life. Integrity. We all want it. We all want it in the people around us.

I want it because it enables me to trust, to love, to experience the joy of being human. When the integrity of a people is nonexistent, it destroys the structure that holds up a society. If the integrity of even one member of a family is lost, cohesiveness of the family is jeopardized because of the breakdown of trust.

Camryn and Me

Much to be thankful for.
Sweet baby, great granddaughter.
Her grandmother, best cook ever.
Beautiful Christmassy home.
Her mom, a pediatric ICU nurse.
Her dad, a charmer.
Her grandpa, my darling son.
Her aunt loves her.
Her uncle does too.

Her family is amazing.

We are a part of it
Though far away.

CaringBridge

What a helpful website Caring Bridge is! I can't get into it except by www.daleboe.com
Then click for current updates. I feel like a doofus when my links don't work.

When you get to the welcome page, check out "my story," "journal," and be prepared to be blown out of the water with the "guest book."

Omaha is in a quandry over the many shootings we have had, seven in seven days, and purse snatching all over town, some which are dangerous as well. The state of Nebraska isn't much better as the 35 youngster was dropped off at a hospital due to the Safe Haven Law. Our Unicameral met this week and changed the age to babies a month and younger. But it is obvious that families with older children are not finding help for them if they are mentally ill or have behaviour problems. My heart goes out to them all. Two teens figured out what their mother was up to and when she drove up to one hospital emergency entrance they bolted and one still hasn't been found.

But as for our family, one brother sounded good on the phone so the lung surgery apparently went well. Dale is still on a ventilator and in a coma in Chile'. The CaringBridge organization is wonderful in this type of emergency.

Faith Trumps All

One of my brother's in law and his wife, along with groups of volunteers from different churches and SD School of Mines and Technology students, are building an orphanage in Chile'. They were alone on the mountain seventeen miles above Vicuna near the grape orchards and the goat herders when our beloved D became paralyzed with Guillian-Barre Syndrome a week ago today. He is hospitalized in Coquimbo, a town about 2 hours from the building site.

For a time he was in a coma and paralyzed from the neck down. Their daughter flew down to be with her mother during this frightening and difficult time. Another daughter has set up a CaringBridge website to keep the family and many, many friends informed about his progress toward being stabilized in order to be flown home for a lenghty rehabilitation. This is a free website and has been invaluable for those of us who await news from Chile'.

The latest Vocations for Orphans newsletter is online at http://www.vfo.org/newsletter/vfo_newsletter_fall08.pdf We are amazed and proud of this remarkable family and their endeavors worldwide. http://www.vfo.org/video.htm is from the VFO web site.

He Who Must Be Obeyed is the fifth of ten siblings. Another brother, flew home to Wyoming from Mexico and during a physical discovered he has lung cancer. Yesterday he had surgery in Montana. Until we get the news of the pathology report we pray it was confined to one mass in one lobe and was completely removed. Tomorrow the report from the lab is expected.

Today, sunny and warm, has coaxed us outside to rake again and do a final yard clean up before we get the same kind of winter our neighbors to the north have had.

My Readers are Treasures

Today I checked out my sitemeter, which tells me how my readers stumble on to 'willoboe.' One person, always anonymous and identity ever protected by sitemeter, found me through a search for "Cave Hills Lutheran Church." I then clicked on some of the hits he/she got there and found a diamond. It is an article, or an audio source to Prairie Public Radio and it takes me home once more. Thank you dear reader for your interest and your hit on the Cave Hills!

Cider House Rules

Sometimes I hear something that is so sweet it never leaves me. It comes back to mind over and over; I can hear the inflection in Michael Caine's voice as his Dr. Larch tells the orphan boys before they go to sleep, "Goodnight, you princes of Maine. You kings of New England." I wonder if I had read the book Cider House Rules, by John Irving first, would it have had such a profound and memorable effect. Every boy should go to sleep with words like that in his ears.

When I saw the movie, I wasn't aware of the fact that Lasse Hallström directed it and that Charlize Theron was in it. It was a wonderful movie, sad, memorable, full of angst. Just like life.

I don't go out to movies much anymore, but the following ones I have enjoyed on television have been directed by Hallstrom: "What's Eating Gilbert Grape," "Chocolat," "The Shipping News." According to Oprah today we should all go see "Seven Pounds" when it comes out soon.

Good night you princes and princesses of America, you kings and queens of North America. You are loved.

The FinnFlyer

The finnflyer was here for lunch today. There is always a bright spot in life. We were going to pick him up from the airport where he landed and tied down the plane he was piloting and take him to some lovely Omaha eatery. It was not to be as I am again in the midst of the vertigo and staying close to the walls, or the couches. He Who Must Be Obeyed picked him up and brought him home where we had a nice visit with lunch and without the clatter of restaurants, or a mad rush to get him back again for his flight to California and home. Pilots have a lot of fun in life, see places and people one only imagines, have close calls with weather, and live out of a suitcase or a flight bag. He barely survived a plane crash and was on the Air Force Radio station in Thailand during the Viet Nam war...our conversation drifted that direction for a little while.

We are both emigrants from our home town, a part of the Harding County, SD brain drain, the pilot and the librarian left to make the world a better place. There are times that I wonder what my life would be like had I never left there. I cannot understand why that place has such a pull on my heartstrings. Cosmic loneliness is once again oppressive and I long for the thin place where God is close and I am content and breathless from sheer joy.

My days are dizzy, somewhat downhearted, I can't eat and my steel trap mind has turned to mush. I am readying myself for a disappointing day tomorrow as I remind myself that God uses broken people as well as the 'right minded' ones. The question is just which broken duo is the American public going to choose? I think I know but it won't stop me from being a good citizen. Young Citizen's League, YCL, taught us what it means to be a good citizen.

212 °F

Sometimes I wish we could just put a lid on it all. Politics USA and the everlasting commercials which have now become infomercials, the yo-yo stock markets world wide, the Nebraska Safe Haven Law which resulted in 24 children, some mentally ill, being brought from far and near by parents and care givers, our fractured family, all of the things that go bump in the night have come out of Pandora's Box and clutter the floor of my life. It is all almost too much to bear.

I am not keen on socialism, have never liked television commercials, arguing is awful, mental illness is horrible and we are getting it in spades both in the family and in Nebraska as the Safe Haven Law gets more national press, as far as things that go bump in the night...we haven't seen anything yet. Halloween is only days away.

Of course the only thing left in Pandora's Box is Hope. Even Hope has a slippery handle. Maybe I will crawl into the box myself and snuggle up to Hope until everything under the lid boils over and puts out a few fires; or maybe till hell freezes over.

A Time for Burning

Too long gone, but back once more. Life has a way of slipping by.

Our adjustment to moving here from the Black Hills, SD, included my own first experiences with racism. Riots and burnings, marching and murder were the headlines those first few years. "The Education of a WASP" was the first book I encountered after we settled in. Omaha was not the quiet little Midwestern city I had imagined. It was frightful.

It very well could erupt with racial violence again, given the political, economic, and cultural situation today.

Not too many years ago I attended some Lay School Ministries sessions at Augustana Lutheran church on the edge of the black community known as the near north side. There I enjoyed a group of people that discussed topics of the day with someone knowledgeable about the particular topic. For instance we studied the Human Genome Theory when it was a theory. One of our discussion leaders was a medical ethicist from Creighton University Medical School.

A Time for Burning is in the Omaha news again. The film explored the attempt of the minister of Augustana Lutheran Church in Omaha to persuade his all-white congregation to reach out to neighboring black Lutherans. A Time for Burning, a 1967 Oscar-nominated documentary about the interactions between two segregated churches in Omaha, Nebraska, during the height of the civil rights movement, will be screened at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences‘ "Monday Nights with Oscar" on Monday, October 20, at 8 p.m. at the Academy Theater in New York City.

The young black barber featured in the film, will be a part of the on-stage panel discussing it. Ernie Chambers, completed law school and was elected Senator to the Nebraska Legislature in 1970. By 2005 he had become the longest-serving state Senator in the history of Nebraska.

1925 Malcom X born in North Omaha.

• 1966 The documentary A Time for Burning is released and nominated for an Academy Award.
• 1966 On July 5 the National Guard is called to quell two days of rioting among African Americans in North Omaha.^[17]
• 1968 Riots erupt in North Omaha in response to assassination of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr..
• 1968 Robert Kennedy visits Omaha in his quest to become president.
• 1969 Riots erupt on June 24 after an Omaha police officer fatally shoots teenager Vivian Strong in the Logan Fontenelle Housing Projects.^[18]
• 1970 On August 17 a bombing occurs at a house at 2867 Ohio Street, killing one policeman. Black Panther members are implicated.

Nebraska's Safe Haven Law

Last night an Iowa teen was dropped off at the Omaha Creighton University Medical Center. It was the first time an out-of-state youth has been left under Nebraska's unique safe haven law. This child is the 18th to be left at a hospital, or in one case, at an Omaha police station by a parent or guardian intending to use the law, which went into effect July 18th.

The law protects people only from being prosecuted by Nebraska authorities for abandoning a child at a hospital in the state. Because the law sets no age limit, most of the children being dropped off are teenagers or preteens labeled uncontrollable by their parents or guardians.

The Legislature's Judiciary and Health and Human Services committees have scheduled a hearing at 1:30 p.m. on Nov. 13 in Room 1113 of the Capitol.

Among topics expected to be raised are the current use of the law, possible amendments to it, and services availability for children living in crisis.

Nebraska was the end of the line for many children on the Orphan Trains out of New York City starting in 1854 and for seventy-six years thousands of homeless, neglected poor children were moved west to rural towns and farm communities. The plight of children has had a long and sad history. Even those of us who, hoping to do a good thing by taking a child into our home, has ended up wondering if we have done more harm than good.

Changes

Politics, finances, even the day to day mundane events change. It is bewildering sometimes.

The once contentious political debates seem to have taken a turn to the polite. It was nice to watch Palin and Biden as they exchanged ideas without raising their voices. Being the INFP that I am, I have an aversion to that verbal combat. It was great to be able to spend 90 minutes watching the word match the other night. Even the moderator seemed polite. Why is it that a civil debate is so amazing? I suppose because for years one expects every conversation to feel like a Sunday morning network news show.

Here in Nebraska, parents, guardians, and care givers drop wayward wards off at hospitals instead of do battle with out of control teens. A father of ten in Omaha took nine of his children to a nearby hospital to give them up to the custody of the State. Only the oldest, an 18 year old daughter, escaped his desperate decision. His wife had died, the youngest was a baby under two years old. I am sure he was overwhelmed. Safe Haven Laws were perhaps passed too quickly. Meant for newborns and desperate mothers has now become a social service for parents and caregivers who have come to the end of their wits.

We have a friend who experienced a similar thing as a toddler. He and his brothers were taken to an orphanage after his mother died and his own immigrant father could not cope with the ramifications of child care and making a living. His hell began when his dad remarried, brought his children home again and our friend endured the wrath of the evil step-mother.

It all sounds like a Dickens novel. It is too sad for words.

"Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy."

Twenty years ago, I took my high school television new crew downtown to the Vice Presidential debate between Dan Quayle and Lloyd Bentson. We were set up in the lower level of the Civic Auditorium in the spin room with all big shots. This was the real deal. Beside us were the CSPAN guys. Large monitors gave us a view of what was happening above us. The crowd was so out of control that Judy Woodruff stopped to admonish them more than once before Bentson let fly his zinger of the century.

According to the Omaha World Herald, David Karnes, an Omaha lawyer, sat beside Marilyn Quayle and remembers not wanting to look at her when Bentson delivered his body blow that is remembered by a little news crew and their teacher. Two of the Karnes girls were in my classes.

We heard the gasp from the auditorium. The spinners spun out of control. In spite of it all, the zinger didn't cinch the election. I was proud of my students, who had captured an important event for our city-wide broadcast. We were part of a little bit of history that unfolded around us.

The Wild West

The Rapid City Journal features a couple of videos of the annual Custer State Park buffalo round up. It looks like great fun.

http://videos.rapidcityjournal.com/p/video?id=2233501

Making Things

I have decided that when I never make any thing, I feel useless and stagnant. It seems as though my entire life is devoted to cleaning things that other people have made. Just think about it. A few days ago I made some whole wheat bread. I discovered that I could use a bread machine to mix up the dough and then I could roll it out flat and make a facsimile of my grandmother's Finnish flat bread. She used to bake hers on the floor of the old wood/coal stove so mine never replicates hers in either taste nor texture. It is barely o.k.

But making something, doesn't mean food. I mean objects out of cloth or wood, even paper would count. I have always wanted to make stepping stones from concrete, never have. Or carve a rock. I am not much good with tools as I have so little hand strength. So my life is lived away by cleaning the things that other people make.

I am certain that I broke a bone in my hand a couple of days ago; I was cleaning as usual. As I was pushing a couch off of a rug I heard a sharp snap in my right hand and ever since have experienced some swelling, discoloration, and pain. It hasn't affected the use of my fingers for which I am thankful. If I get careless, I am reminded that everything isn't quite right in my hand.

It is probably a miracle that we don't break bones in our hands more often, considering how much we do with them. Obviously I am not going to be making anything of consequence anytime soon.

Cave Hills Lutheran Church

A cousin's friend sent this photo the other day. They had spent some time in the Cave Hills and shared some photos of this hallowed ground.

The organist who played the little pump organ just celebrated her 95th birthday at the senior center. Tyyne's family is now planning the party for her 100th.

The church was officially closed a few years ago. The last service I attended there was a memorial service for my mother officiated by a cousin who she was so proud of.

In the cemetery to the left of the church lies four of my grandparents, my dad, my brothers, aunts, uncles, a cousin, and most all of the Finnish speaking neighbors of a time gone by. Tyyne's parents donated the land, the neighbors collected the money and helped build the church. Her father, killed in a tragic accident during those homestead days, was the first person buried on the land he gave, and with the help of loving neighbors, her mother raised five little babies alone and farmed the land.

The two Bryces and I sat on the church steps one balmy autumn evening and watched the stars take a whirl for a couple of hours and enjoyed a couple of shooting stars.

Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight.
I wish I may, I wish I might
Get the wish I wish tonight.

Mercy Me, A Maytag

To quote a grandson: "YES i am actually washing clothes in it. it works Great, about 6 min with the suds, 6 min rinse, and then run it through the rollers. funny how something made 78 years ago is faster than today's units. the only downside is no TV time between loads it requires your full attention. "

Another Undecided Voter Decides

My son, the writer of "Abandon the GOP" to the right of this has finally written again. He keeps his dad, Who Must Be Obeyed, on edge with his politics. I had to hold my own breath reading his last post.

Another Friday

This week has been enjoyable. The Harvest Moon has been noticed and enjoyed as we swim again. I wonder if our perfect days are simply a short reprieve before fall lowers the temperatures permanently and we celebrate the autumnal equinox in a couple of days. I saw the first of the falling maple leaves on the driveway this morning. If I look closely across the city, I see a few yellow leaves.

I am learning to use a new computer on which I can access the Internet through a wireless connection. To tell the truth it made me happy to be able to configure that myself. I did have to go out for a mouse, as my clumsy arthritic fingers were like using clothes pins on the device under the keyboard. It used to be called a roller ball but now it is an unmanageable little flat disc. This machine is fast. Do people still call their computers a machine?

If I was on the other computer, I would show you what a grandson is washing clothes with. He has a 1930's washing machine that he bought for the motor...and his automatic washer shorted out. I recieved a few photos from him and it looks like something my mother and I used in the '40's. I was too small in the 30's to be of any help and would have probably run my short little arms into the wringer. He said there was no time to watch television between the washing, wringing, rinsing, wringing and whatever he does to dry them. There wasn't much time for anything in those olden days but trying to keep children alive and fed.

Like father like son. His dad, our son, was inventing welders in the third grade by finding an old cut off power cord, plugging it in and then putting the two bare wires together. It was a welder all right! I just about had a coronary when I discovered him. A mother could easily kill a boy's curiosity trying to raise them to adulthood, or even getting them to the sixth grade. I must not have yelled too loudly, for his curiosity never diminished and he can make or fix just about anything made of mineral. He is pretty good with animals and vegetables also. He has people under his spell as well.

Roald Dahl Day in Cardiff

In May of 1996 my high school friend, Carol, and I accompanied a choir tour group of college people to the United Kingdom. One of our stops was Cardiff, Wales. She and I hiked over to the Norwegian Sailor's Church founded in 1868 to serve the thousands of Norwegian sailors that were employed in the Norwegian merchant fleet.

It was a place for sailors, where they could read newspapers and magazines from home, where they could relax and chat with friends. The church's exterior was corrugated steel and had been constructed in Norway, dismantled, shipped to Cardiff and reassembled there.

Without maintenance the building fell into dis-repair and was vandalized. In 1987 the Church was carefully dismantled by the Norwegian Church Preservation Trust and re-opened in 1992.

Today, on the 13th of September, 1916, Roald Dahl was born of Norwegian parents in Cardiff. His family worshipped at the Norwegian Church and he and his sisters were christened here. To honor him a party is held for children within the church every September.

From the Writer's Almanac today. " He was sent off to private boarding schools as a kid, which he hated except for the chocolates, Cadbury chocolates. The Cadbury chocolate company had chosen his school as a focus group for new candies they were developing. Every so often, a plain gray cardboard box was issued to each child, filled with 11 chocolate bars. It was the children's task to rate the candy, and Dahl took his job very seriously. About one of the sample candy bars, he wrote, "Too subtle for the common palate." He later said that the experience got him thinking about candy as something manufactured in a factory, and he spent a lot of time imagining what a candy factory might be like. Today, he's best known for his children's book Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

Roald Dahl also wrote James and the Giant Peach. In the olden days when I worked as an elementary librarian, I read it to a group of third graders during a few minutes of their library time. Yes, I had heard that a person should never read a book to children cold. A section of it struck me so funny I got the giggles and just about fell off of my tiny little chair. Soon the children started to laugh and would have fallen off their tiny little chairs had they had them.

Canning Grape Jelly

I woke up to noise and chaos. It was the kind of chaos that happens when a person is about to embark on a project. During this project I am the helping hand, never in charge of anything but stirring and clean-up. Everything was ready, the sterilizing, the measuring, the utensils laid out as if for surgery, the beautiful purple mixtures in two tall heavy bottomed kettles ready for boiling.

As I stirred the boiling mixtures, I wondered if my grandmother had good help. It would never have come from my sheep ranching grandpa, but as long as they were on the homestead she had sisters and children. The last beloved child was in his teens, and would have been great help, when they sold and moved to town only a couple of years before my grandpa died of TB. Her jelly was wild plum and buffalo berry, the reluctant to jell chokecherry was made into syrup.

Helping is good as stirring stirs up such good memories of smells better than back yard concord grapes. A mouse click on the picture might surprise you.

Two Weeks of Late Night TV

My goodness gracious. We were mesmerized and entertained by the extravaganza in Denver with the democrats a couple of weeks ago and this week we lost sleep with folks in St. Paul, Minnesota. About the time I thought that nothing could ever beat the theatrics at the Bronco Stadium, the Grecian columns from some theater supply house, the fireworks and the promises; then came that dynamo from Wasilla, Alaska who woke up the republicans, young and old. Maybe woke up or shook up more than the conservatives. We will see.

I didn't have anyone to "talk" to about it. "I am listening" was my standard answer even during the commercials; which were almost non-existent on PBS and C-Span. Even I, who usually dismiss such speech making as repetitive and not terribly interesting, was quite moved by a lot of it. I have a couple of cousins that would have been great fun to visit with these past days.

Did you too, enjoy the humor, the sincerity, the promises, the contrasting of personalities and life experiences, all the children with their imperfections, the flummoxed journalists who were vilified by the VP candidate who was one herself by college degree. What was not to like and enjoy? Even the late night hosts had some funny new material. No all the snow is not in Alaska...a lot of it was in the audience in St. Paul.

Wasn't it fun. I am glad it is over though, now we can get some sleep before midnight again.

The Sweetest Language

"Friday, May 9, 2008
Nothing can be softer or more harmonious
The Finns still retain their own language where their geographical situation cuts them off from frequent communication with the Teutonic and Cimbric races. "Both the Lapland and Finnish languages," says Dr. Clarke. ''are pleasing to the ear, and admirably suited to poetry, owing to their plenitude of vowels. They constantly reminded us of the Italian; and we might cite several instances of words common to all the three. Acerbi, as an Italian, sometimes understood words used by the natives of Finland. Nothing can be softer or more harmonious than the sounds uttered by a Finland peasant, when reciting his Pater Noster. It is full of labials, nasals, open vowels, and dipththongs, and is destitute even of a single guttural.''

Edward Isidore Sears: The National Quarterly Review (1863)
Posted by Kaisa Kyläkoski at 12:35 AM From Kaisa's Virtual Bookshelf, virtually a treasure trove!

Yoked Together

Carhenge

Driving through Nebraska on I 80 last week we veered off into Alliance on our way to Crawford to visit a son; on the way we stopped along the road to take a couple of photos of Carhenge. This is a humorous task a family undertook on a family reunion. I think it took a couple of years to complete. I liked it. Sometimes a person can look at art and not find anything funny about it. Wikipedia does a good job of explaining it and names the family responsible for constructing it. Now, I have seen them both. The real deal in England isn't funny.

The Reader and the Read To

Yesterday in Bernie Hunhoff's southdakotamagazine online gem he wrote: "On This Day: August 19 In the summer of 1931, Nebraska poet laureate John Neihardt accompanied Oglala holy man Nick Black Elk to the top of Harney Peak, where Black Elk re-told of great visions he had seen during his lifetime. That conversation, and many more that continued into the spring of 1932, would form the basis for the famed Indian spirituality book, Black Elk Speaks. In his visions, Black Elk told Neihardt that he had met the guider of the universe. Reports vary, but it is believed Black Elk died on this day in 1950 at the age of 86."

On our quick four day trip to the Black Hills I read "Pirate, Pawnee and Mountain Man: The Saga of Hugh Glass" by John Myers to He Who Must Be Obeyed. Somewhere in the text Myers wrote of John G. Neihardt having acquired some information on Glass. Neihardt's "The Song of Hugh Glass" 1915, and the "The Splendid Wayfaring" 1920 are listed in the Bibliography. Myers' adventerous tale took us across two interstate highways, and two states which ate up most of two days on our own four day adventure.

Being so steeped in the history of our own childhood home lands, one thing leads to another as it always does in life. When we recovered from our rigorous travel I poked around in my various book shelves and found a book I bought at the Chadron, Nebraska Museum of the Fur Trade a few years ago, John G. Neihardt's "The Mountain Men: The Song of Three Friends-The Song of Hugh Glass-The Song of Jed Smith." New and unopened, I was delighted to find a drawn map of Hugh Glass's trails beginning at Ft. Atkinson a few miles north of our home on the Missouri River and ranging along rivers and streams to the headwaters of the Missouri and down the Platte. How I longed for a map as I read on the road.

I had always thought that Neihardt was too hard for me to read, especially to read aloud. The first chapter was lovely and of course I can read it! The rest will be saved for our afternoon recovery periods and maybe, as HWMBO suggested, take the place of evening mindless television.

Wagon Trains to Deadwood

Bull Train Up Staged by Plumber


Been Gone/Back Again
"Going Home" never means exactly that. It is putting our feet on the soil of West River South Dakota. We did precisely that last week.

The culmination of the event, besides visiting a grown son and daughter, In-Laws, friends and a cousin, we situated our lawn chairs across the street from the famed Franklin Hotel in Deadwood and watched the wagon trains from Cheyenne, Sidney and Ft. Pierre meet in the street in front of the hotel with yippies, excited yells, and some speeches from wagon masters and city mayors. MC-ing the event was a nephew of a friend.

I couldn't figure out how to get these videos here but they are both well worth watching. One is from Fort Meade on the way to Deadwood and the other in Deadwood.

http://videos.rapidcityjournal.com/p/video?id=2078950

http://videos.rapidcityjournal.com/p/video?id=2083513

The event had not happened for the last hundred years. As the locomotive replaced the horse and wagon in that area, goods came by rail instead of wheel and it connected our pioneers and homesteaders with places outside of this hinterland, as one of my college professors called it, when I went away to school in 1953.

Up to our Necks in Cleome

I left the air conditioned house to take a few photos. The heat and humidity were so thick that the camera lens immediately fogged over.

This is sometimes called Spider Flower and is currently taller than I am.

Tomorrow is a grandson's 28th birthday. He was our first grandchild and born on our wedding anniversary. Tomorrow we celebrate 54 years of wedded bliss.
The birthday boy's dad, our son, is in a hospital in California. We far away old parents are concerned and wish we lived close to help with his post op recovery.

I still long for the days of generational close proximity and the security that it provided every one, young and old.

Leaving Nothing to Chance

Proverbs 22:6 (New King James Version)
New King James Version (NKJV)


"Train up a child in the way she should go,
And when she is old she will not depart from it."

Back Yard Fun

Three Grandchildren vacationing with baby, Ethan Axel.
Matthew the Swim Coach.
Sarah the Auntie.
Heather, the Mother.

Backyard in Mid-Summer

Garage Sale Paintings are EnjoyableRose Petals Falling on the Water
This Volunteer Gives Us Fireworks All Summer

The Circle of New Generations

A Youthful Uncle and His Nephew








This new grandmother has fallen in love with her first grandson, who is, in turn in love with life. His smiles and and enthusiasm about everyone and everything around him captivates all who are lucky enough to catch his eye.

INFP and Lonliness

What in the world is a person to do with THIS? Too much of it is all too true. I have dabbled in ten or eleven of those favored careers; not as careers but as activities at one time or another. I did work as a librarian, television production teacher and have done a fair amount of video editing. And put together a couple of books and wrote a few poems, taken a few photographs.

I concentrate on those things that make me happy because the other side of the coin is painful and there isn't much to be very optimistic about. Daydreaming is just a bad habit. Wounded at the core is close to home. A hermit.

Poor, pitiful INFPs. Some person from Finland googled my subject and sent me off into this. I am going to go bake a cake, not on impulse, but it is a plan and if I preheat the oven I will have to follow through.

Another Beautiful Mother

This busy new family celebrated a granddaughter's 24th birthday yesterday in another city, another state. The two Great Grand-babies are less than a month apart.

Houseguests are a Blessing

The past week has seen a flurry of activity at our house. Our Washington family visit is always enjoybable, but this year it is extraordinarily lovely with the addition of little Ethan Axel Olson and his beautiful mother, Heather. The seven loaded up to spend a few days with our daughter in law's family and will be back on Monday.

Sometimes the photo opportunities slip by while I have let the meal preparations take me away from the fleeting scenes: our eldest son with his beloved first grandchild, the beautiful granddaughters and their equally beautiful mother sunbathing in the back yard, and a handsome, sensitive grandson with his nephew. I kid him about being Ethan's trainer and that next year I expect he will have that baby walking.

Task Accomplished

We are happy with the results of the reupholstery project. I am glad we retained the details of the Master Craft designer, the narrow pleating and the quilting in places. Now we can go on to the pleasant tasks of weeding, mowing and preparations to celebrate our Independence.

The Mother of all Winds

Last Thursday Omaha had a windstorm that brought the city up short. Our power was off three nights and two and a half days. The calm came both before and after the gale. With no electricity the house was blessedly quiet. About four in the afternoon, I went out to take a few flower photos and before I was done the tornado sirens began to blow. In less than a half an hour the wind began to blow. It was mesmerizing to watch the limbs fly off the big maple tree in the front yard and sail down the street.
Here is what the back yard looked like before the petals flew off the flowers.

More Sofa Saga

This morning while I was in the dental chair, HWMBO was checking on the progress of the sofa. Our skilled craftsman thought that perhaps by the end of the week he could have it back to us. I will have had enough furniture rearrangement to keep me happy for some time to come.

Louis L'Amour,General Custer, and the Inkslinger

A dear and dedicated "Inkslinger," once the owner and editor of my home town newspaper, The Buffalo Times-Herald, now lives in Arco Idaho and writes a column in the paper there. His sons carry on the dedication of their father.

Not long ago he wrote the following:
"Among the good books loaned by friends is a magnificent book on hunting experiences in areas like Arizona brought by Glenn Phillips, and one in particular by a daughter-in-law, the early seafaring stories by Louis L’Amour.

L’Amour, a native of Jamestown, North Dakota, became one of the very leaders of all the writers of western pioneer life, and it was a fortunate day some fifty years ago when the old Inkslinger had the opportunity and the honor of assisting him in gathering on-the-scene history of the exploration of the Custer Expedition in what is now northwestern South Dakota, where the old Inkslinger had spent every available spare weekend day following and tracking the historical expedition which led to the claiming of the Black Hills of South Dakota back in 1976 and starting one of the famous gold rushes in the country.

In the North and South Cave Hills in Harding County, back in the late 1930s and 1940s, it was discovered the Custer Expedition had left their names and initials and dates carved in the scoria of what was known as Thumb Butte and in the Ludlow Cave, as well as other evidence of their journey, and the petroglyphs carved by the Sioux Indian Tribes in the sandstone rimrock of the Cave Hills. Much of this early history, of course, had been destroyed or defaced over the years by other initial carvers and vandals.

Louis L’Amour was a very interesting man to visit with and was an avid student of the building and “taming” of the American West.

The Inkslinger had always known L’Amour’s stories of the West, but this latest gift book was the first we knew of his life as a seaman and a world-wide gold hunter."

Thanks for that interesting bit of information, Mr. Cammack.

Family to the 4th Generation

Travelers with a Camera


















Ethan Axel Olson and Mommy

Washington Wedding

A Beautiful Bride and Her Parents
The Happy Couple

Thanks to the aunt and uncle who attended the wedding and emailed the photos!

1946

Original Oil by J. Axel Sacrison. 1946. 18 1/2" x 42"

Sofa Saga

No, not a tornado, just the first stages of work on our antique couch.

The Sound of Sirens

Last night we went to bed to the sounds of sirens and rain/small hail on the roof and the news that a tornado had hit the Little Sioux Boy Scout Ranch. Before we switched off the television we knew that four youngsters had died but we didn't know all the details until this morning.

Last fall He Who Must Be Obeyed drove over to that campground and we saw the beauty of the place. The company he worked for had designed all of the facilities. When we first came to Omaha, he was an assistant Scout Master for the troop that met at our children's elementary school. Some time during the early '70's he took a group of Scouts there to earn orienteering and other merit badges. When I saw the Google Earth pictures on CNN I realized how terribly rugged the terrain was. Today the Nation shares the grief of those young boys, their leaders, and parents.

The first few years we were married he took Rapid City Boy Scouts out for a winter survival in the Black Hills. One year they got snowed in and endured living off the land in a blizzard. Survival is just that. Some of his boys requisitioned a couple of chickens from a ranch nearby, leaving money on the table as no one was home. Be Prepared.

Uranium!

Our in house Geological Engineer has a job with a fine salary offer and wonderful benefits. From famine to feast and feast to retirement. He has 20 years to put together a retirement and he is glad he is so close to the Black Hills that he can think about land and a permanent home.

We have a small home and with three adults, none of whom think alike, we have restrained ourselves from behaving like trapped animals. Today we are all on the same page, rejoicing over his employment. His salary package is almost too good to be true. Today I am thinking on the spring day I dropped him off at the South Dakota School of Mines and Technology for a meeting with the Registrar, a kind man from my home town.

His career began with the Homestake Gold Mine near Deadwood calling him to do surface gold exploration for them. His experiences over the years between then and now are what have him anticipating ending his career with a Canadian Mining Company working in Nebraska.

We are so very happy that we don't even think about radiation exposure. Dangerous Duty Pay? At least he won't have to think about land mines of the explosive kind.

Allegiances

Helsinki, Finland, Sibelius Park Sculpture, 1980, Photo of the Day, National Geographic. How amazing that I was on lying on my back on the rock outcrop under the same sculpture that same summer. I would love to dig out my own photo for a comparison.

Some of us who were raised by two generations of women with fierce love for their country of origin, feel as much allegiance to it, as to this adopted land we were born into.

I found a wonderful web site of national anthems and was dismayed to find that Finland had adopted the music of their infringing neighbor, Sweden, instead of Sibelius, their own fierce composer. Biafra used the familiar "Finlandia" tune by Sibelius.

One of the retired pastors at Holy Cross wrote words of the Lord's Prayer that go with the music of 'Finlandia.' His men's choir sang it it services one week and it drew me to tears. He generously shared the sheet music with me a few weeks later.

A Day in June

And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days;

Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, and over it softly her warm ear lays;





Whether we look or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;...

Joy comes, grief goes, we know not how, Everything is happy now, Everything is upward striving,


'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true As for grass to be green or skies to be blue,

'Tis for the natural way of living. " James Russel Lowell

Center of the Nation

We all like to be the in the center of things. This beautiful photo is from the New York Times. There are a few more where that came from. The photo is captioned: "Where the Grass Meets the Sky." The article is titled "This Land
In the Middle of Nowhere, a Nation’s Center." Someone coming from that high plains area might contest that statement. I think on it as the middle of everywhere and I am honored and pleased to have come from the center of it all. I love this land and there is more than might meet the untrained eye here.

Finding my way in Finnish: Aakkoset

Finding my way in Finnish: Aakkoset

Memorial Weekend

A cousin wrote asking where our Uncle Eric is interred. He is one of many of his brothers that were in WWI, as well as some of his brothers in law. Looking through two cemetery records online, my mind goes back to those vibrant pioneer homesteaders in northwestern South Dakota. It is a time of remembrance, a time to honor all of those war heroes, all of those that came before us to open the way for our good lives. It is humbling to think about the things they endured; their good lives so well lived and their love of this country, this family, their community, and each of us born while they yet lived gives us pause to honor each of them. I was born into a legacy that remains with me with the best of memories.

Books!

Sorting and organizing book cases has been an all day ordeal. Even the ones I will never pick up are difficult to put in a recycle pile. One comes across a treasure or two and there is always the warm sweet feeling when meeting a once read friend again.

I found "With My Own Eyes: A Lakota Woman Tells Her People's History." Susan Bordeaux Bettelyoun and Josephine Waggoner. I didn't even remember ordering it. Having read the "Ben Arnold..." (actually by Josephine Waggoner, as she interviewed him prior to his death and then sold her notes for a paltry sum)I am very excited about this find of today. The Berlin Journal article on the Sioux and Custer quotes Josephine Waggoner. It is a sad and heartbreaking account of the situation in the 1870's.

Feeding Babies

Yesterday as I was in the back yard weeding, I happened to notice a blackbird parent on top of the grape fence feeding a fledgling. At first I thought she was cutting up a rather large earth worm but on a closer look, I saw that she was tearing a small snake into bite sized pieces. The food was none too happy about the situation and tried to get away. After a few bites pushed into the open beak of the baby bird, big blackbird grabbed the snake by the head and flew off to the neighbor's yard. Sometimes one has to get their feet on the ground to do a task well.

We have a robin family in the curly willow. They have nested close enough to the ground that we will have to hand water instead of let the sprinkler fly for another week or so.

Be Presentable

We attend Saturday Evening church services. It occurs at a time of day that is manageable, pain-wise. The small congregation is cozy and warm. HWMBO always maneuvers our dear E in her chariot to the rail for communion while I fetch the glasses for us. It is a predictable little routine, lovely, fulfilling, "bread for the journey," so to speak.

Last night I was met at the door by the pastor asking if I would read, with him, the Lesson, which was the First Creation Story. Of course I would. He had marked the paragraphs that I would read. It was very enjoyable. After reading aloud all winter the five tomes of history and one Afghanistan novel, I could take on two pages of Scripture. I am glad I was 'presentable.'

The preaching was on the text we read together. God can create order out of chaos was the theme so we have hope today. No it isn't a science lesson, nor a history lesson. It is a story to let the Isrealistes in Babylonian captivity know that God is with them/us and can order whatever chaos we experience. Thank God.

You Know It's Going to be a Bad Day..

I should have seen it coming. The same day He Who Must Be Obeyed purchased a couple lottery tickets at the grocery store, I stuffed his shirt in the washing machine without checking the pockets. You know the old saw: you know it is going to be a bad day when... There was a time in my Stepford Wife days that in my haste to do it all, I washed a few of his paychecks.

He has purchased lottery tickets occasionally. Never have we expected a return on them but he did make a hundred dollars once, but he checked the numbers never the less. The minute he discovered that there were nothing left of them but a few shreds of white fluff, he was sure he must have won and hoped I had learned to look in pockets and not wash things in such haste. He didn't use quite those words. I detected a bit of blue in the air.

And the monitor went out. We were warned when we bought the large flat screen that when it died, there would be no bringing it back to life. So we waited for a little bitty baby monitor to be delivered just to check if that was it. It was.

With grass to be mowed, dandelions to be dug, a short reunion with a dear cousin's family, and the things of spring yard work, I didn't experience computer withdrawal, much.

We are swimming again, and trying to judge when the cold wind goes down enough to dash from the pool to the outdoor shower and back inside. It is such a luxury. The payback is going to happen when we get our first gas bill for the heating.

Baby Sitting

We put our daily newspaper delivery on "vacation hold" while we take care of spring yard business. Because I miss knowing what is going on, I web surf the newspapers around the world. I still don't know if the Chilean Volcano is near our Vocations for Orphans building project of our Boe brother. The photos on this web site are worth a visit. The sweet couple on the FVO video are the beloved youngest brother of the ten, and his bride.

One thing leads to another, and I checked out Ice News from Iceland, and landed on the Bismark Tribune (North Dakota) article: Woman takes car, kids for a ride. This could be the latest thing in creative business; a person to drive kids around the parking lot while Mom shops. The impromptu sitter probably should have charged a per minute rate for the service. It would beat an arrest for the mother and the foster system for the kids.


May 07, 2008 - 04:05:24 CDT
DICKINSON (AP) - Authorities in Dickinson are looking into a report of a woman getting in a car occupied by three children and driving it around a store parking lot.

The children were ages 3, 4 and 6. Their mother, Lacey Cox, says the strange woman told the children that their mother shouldn't leave them alone.

Cox says she was inside Kmart at the time. She says her grandmother had parked the car in front of Kmart and gone to the outdoor garden center for a few minutes when the incident happened Saturday.

Cox says her grandmother later found the car in a parking space in the lot. The children were unharmed.

Men in Trees

Marge came here as we were eating lunch today. She brought me a May Basket. It was a lovely begonia that I can put outside. She joined us at the table and we enjoyed homemade chicken soup that HWMBO made while I mowed the front lawn with my little simple reel, push mower.

It made me happy to be able to mow again. I enjoy it as much as I do vacuuming. The finished result is so apparent and rewarding. And we both love drop in company.

May Day brought another unexpected delight. A company called Omaha Trees had men working in the neighborhood this morning. I called the company from the phone number on the truck. The estimator was here within the hour and the crew moved to our yard and trimmed the maple tree that has shaded us every summer for probably 30 years.

Another elderly neighbor planted it for us from a volunteer sapling shortly after we moved here It has endured as many storms as we have. They did a beautiful job and I am happy. I love watching men work. These young dads were skilled and eager to please. They did an artistic job on our old tree and it looks young and lively again.

Once again I have high hopes for pears. The tree is in full bloom and I am so hoping for bees. The pool is holding water...with the exception of four inches leaking out from somewhere. And the flower pots await their new bloomers. My curly willow is my spring delight. It is the first to green up as its red winter branches turn yellow again as the sap slowly rises to the top. It is that compact little tree at the end of the diving board. Life is Good.