December: Dark Yet Beautiful

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRobryliBLQ

"Water Witcher" in High Demand.

It is appropriate that I have my very own water witcher, it being Halloween tonight.  This odd phenomena was useful when He Who Must Be Obeyed served as the Superintendent of Public Works in a small town north of the Black Hills in South Dakota.  Not only could he find water for wells, but he could also locate both water and sewer pipes underground.  He tells me he was taught the ancient skill of dowsing from Mr. Nicodemus who was his meter reader.  Nicodemus would find a dime in a sand-pile with his witching rods.  One can also use willow branches.  My own witcher was pretty good at it.  He said the problem was that he could find too much stuff.

I was reminded of this a few days ago when our daily newspaper ran an article from Abilene, Texas.  Dowsers are in high demand there because of the drought.   It works by holding two L shaped divining rods. One walks slowly over the ground until feeling the rods move.  When they cross it is a signal of a potential water source.

We built a home in Cleghorn Canyon west above Rapid City.  He found water alright but it was 300 feet down.  Water witching has nothing to do with the occult, nor Halloween.  It also entertains small children and grandmothers.

No Rainbow Yet

The Missouri River Flooding and the Aftermath in October 2011

Our son and his wife flew to Omaha this past weekend.  I was offered the opportunity to see the devastation left by the Missouri River from the plane.  It is rightly called the Big Muddy.  Some say the farm fields will not be usable for two or three years.  The mud left behind makes the land unrecognizable.   It is a terrible mess.  Even the trees died.  Volunteers from Omaha and Council Bluffs filled thousands of sand bags in 100+  degree heat for weeks.  In spite of precautions our nearby nuclear plant was shut down;  Epply Airport remained open, thanks to a lot of pumping the water back into the river.

Concord Grape Jam

Bryce and I picked two buckets of grapes on our back fence. We sorted, washed, boiled, and dripped the juice one day.

The next day we canned fourteen quarts of jelly/jam. As you can see we treated ourselves to cinnamon rolls to celebrate our results.My homesteading grandmother and thrifty mother would approve; but not so much that one would notice.

Nebraska in the Fall: Football, Football, Football

A great many folks think life revolves around the Nebraska Corn-huskers.  They have played to a sell out crowd of about 85,000 in the Lincoln, NE stadium for many years.  My elderly neighbor across the street called me once and asked me if I would go to the game with her.  She had two tickets and the men of our houses were going to watch it on television.  We climbed to the third tier from the top.  It rained on us.  The bench was narrow and people were literally hip to hip.  It was awful.  It would have helped to know the game and what was what.


I can see why people get all worked up about the players, the coaches, the stadium, and red, red, red. Even our church asked us to wear red one Reformation Sunday...it happened to be a game weekend as well.  There is something contagious about being a fan.  I do not know what is the matter with me.  I believe I have always been out of sync.  A friend told me once that being a fan of some sport or another is a healthy thing.  It gives a person the feeling of belonging to a group.


I found a bug cage for my grandchildren visiting Omaha in July.  The lawns are full of fire-flies.  Kids are not the only people attracted to a bug.  I just washed the little bug cage that looks like a lantern.  I am not as fast as a cricket but I am hoping to catch one without breaking its legs.  If I can I will bring it in the house to sing its beautiful song to me.


My mother would have been 99 today.  I miss her good sense, her interest in everything around her; coming from South Dakota, she asked the Assisted Living people if they would please put up a map of Nebraska showing the counties.  She needed to know where the tornadoes were when the watches and warnings were on television.  Most of all I miss the fact that she prayed for all of us continually.  On the other hand she was spared some of the more unseemly events in the family.

A Week of Events

A New Boe Baby!
These sweet parents named their little son Axel Sullivan Boe. My dad would have been so honored by this, as I am. 


In the photo below my grandson fell in love with his child immediately.

Eventful days

While I was enjoying the hospital life, a son from Washington state, and his wife were here for a visit. Our eldest son helped my better half repair a porch roof and our sixth great grandchild was born in Wichita.


For six days I was waited on hand and foot, met so many kind people, and had a view from my window that was beautiful, Nearly every person that cared for me said they loved their jobs.  The philosophy of Methodist Hospital resulted in superb patient care. 


Watch out for adhesion, they can sneak up on you and give you a few days of awful pain.  Omaha is fortunate to have two medical teaching institutions, excellent doctors, and nurses, and hospitals.  I am fortunate to be 5 minutes from Methodist ER.


And now I am home and happy.

Golden Wheel Dance Hall on Second Floor.  Upstairs through the door on the left.
This is where I first met the young man who would become my husband.
Basket Ball Tournament in 1952, Whitewood, SD

Trinity Sunday Rock

A Salty Vicar who is now the  Rector of  St. Bartholomew's Church in White Plains, NY had this to say on his facebook page: "prevented the choir from doing schoolhouse rock on Trinity Sunday."

Schoolhouse Rock - Three is a Magic Number

www.youtube.com

Videos Posted by Scott Boe: Matt's grad speech. (1)

Videos Posted by Scott Boe: Matt's grad speech. (1)

The ultimate honor...Valedictorian! You are truly amazing Matt.

Darwin or What

When a girl is 18 or 19, I doubt she  falls in love with a man because he is working on an Engineering degree and she realizes he will no doubt be good in math. Chosing good looks, charm, and muscular Davidic beauty are probably Darwinian. The vows regarding "sickness and health" are not given a thought in most cases; however here we are.  I lose strength, height, and stamina and my better half continues to do difficult work. 


This past winter a snow rake definitively had to be "man-handled" as did the electric hedge saw last week.  The hews lost their heads.  Is it any wonder that the second shoulder needs the help of the same orthopedic surgeon that created a miracle on the first one to go. 

Swimming With Wolves

Our morning started with a lovely swim.  I believe this is one of those Top 10 Days our weather man speaks of.  It was so lovely, warm and wonderful.  There is nothing like a swim in warm water to bring old joints back to life and quiet the spinal stenosis for a little while.  As I was back and forthing, my partner in crime was going around the walls with a net to take off any stray pine cones or pear leaves.  Soon he started to flail and splash around and I knew we were in with something worse than a pine cone.  "Spider", he shouted as he flailed with the net and I back swam away.  He discovered this large spider on the water's edge that crawled down the pool wall as he tried to scoop it up with his net.  Swimming with spiders is kind of horrifying, if you know what I mean.



It crawled down the pool wall about two feet.  When he flipped it out of the water, it flew over on the deck and something unbelievable happened.  This big marble of a spider came apart and hundreds of babies unloaded from its back and crawled all over the cement.  We just could not believe what we had just observed.  Not wanting to deal with this new back yard friend, it got sprayed with Round-up, which didn't do much for the creepy-crawlies, but probably killed a very nice perennial which is blooming today.

Another lesson in the world of biology right under our noses.  I am glad we had that lovely swim in such warm clean water.  Life is good, interesting also.  I think I will put the Round-up in a place that is less handy for my Protector.

Brule' and Company

Our third son and his wife have planned a visit tomorrow. He and his wife are building a swimming pool in their back yard. The preliminary work is not for the faint of heart.  Like father like son...they both do everything themselves.  


He is getting plenty of advice from He Who Must Be Obeyed;  most of it from first hand experience and a civil engineer background.  We put a pool in the back yard over 30 years ago and I was informed that the water was 90' at the moment.  The weather is threatening thunder and lightening.  Not a good combination for swimming.

Omaha's downtown art fair is this weekend.  the Native American group, Brule', will be performing tomorrow afternoon and evening.  I am so hoping we will be able to go to hear them.  The link takes you to Minnesota Post Cards and a feature story of this amazing man, his family, and his music.  I first heard the group on the street in Deadwood, SD years ago.  The selection is fairly long but if you can hang in with it for about 3 or 4 minutes you will get a glimps of the adventure and the epiphany.  If  are still with the program at 13 minutes  Paul LaRoche explains the mystery of his journey and you will experience a little of the group's performance in Branson, MO. 


 We have our own Fancy Dancer in our extended family.  If I have genealogy correct he is a first cousin twice removed or a third cousin.  He has impressive duds.

Now and Then

Near Omaha, in Shenandoah, IA, old Harold Camping is intensifying his warnings from California that the world will end this coming Saturday.  The billboards are up in Omaha, the Shenandoah, Iowa radio station alerts the sinners to repent on KYFR-AM 920 on Family Radio. Folks in Omaha have been given Judgement Day warning in grocery stores.  Newspapers have given it more coverage than it really deserves. It attracts the reader's attention.  Broadcasts also can be heard at www.familyradio.com.


Shall we brace up the house for the earthquake or buy a t-shirt.  "Don't miss out on your chance to purchase a Judgement Day 2011 "Rapture Ready" t-shirt TODAY!"  The internet entrepreneurs are getting into the game.  How will that work, I wonder. Will the 'ready' wear their t-shirt to the Rapture or will they have to add the word "Not" to it?  It would be terribly exciting if I were ten again and open to this sort of hype.  I wonder if anyone actually believes this sort of thing?


So this is the 'now' and the 'then' is yet more amazing.  A son called to ask instructions about building an outdoor toilet.  How deep? A two seater or one?  Listening to his dad give him the instructions on seat height and hole depth, and other particulars was simply the last thing I would ever have expected.  I think it is very practical.  He lives in the country and is building a swimming pool and has grandchildren.  His septic system, he thinks, will never keep up with the anticipated overload.

YouTube - Tumbleweed Invasion

YouTube - Tumbleweed Invasion

For a person who has had first hand experiences with these "Russian Thistles" as we called them, this was very, very funny. Who cannot enjoy laughing children!

Carrie Underwood Sings How Great Thou Art - New Version

Carrie Underwood Sings How Great Thou Art - New Version

In the right place at the wrong time

In the midst of one of life's small miseries I was scheduled to have a Echocardiogram of a leaky heart valve.  The misery was, and still is the common cold.  Now this is an unfortunate litany of how ironic life can get.  During the Echo procedure,  the strong armed tech person come close to breaking my sternum, which set my esophageal ulcer on fire.  I mentioned to him that I was having chest pains.

As he escorted my dear protector husband and I out the door he said I really ought to have that chest pain looked at.  What a great idea!  Across the hall was my Heart Consultant' Offices.  Any thinking person would say to them-self, "this is where a person with a chest pain should go."  I believe about 10 cardiologists are on staff in this new facility, including my own cardiac surgeon.  So in we went.
The receptionist was perplexed.  She dealt with people with appointments, not chest pains.  So she has a person take me into a room and another person comes in.  I have no idea if these women are nurses, teacher aids, or the cleaning people.  I explained that the Heart Hospital person that conducted the Echo exam across the hall told me to see a doctor. 

"I will call 911," she said.  "Don't do that!"  I was horrified by that thought.  I was pretty sure it was the ulcer on fire but probably should make certain.  She was so mad that the Echo people didn't take care of this situation across the hall when I was there.  She didn't really know what to do with me as long as I nixed the 911 call.  There was not one cardiologist in the place, but there was a nurse practioner.  They had a short consultation and my lady person wheels in an EKG machine and hooks me up to all the little leads and finds out that I am not having a heart attack.

I could have saved all of us about an hour or more if I had just gone home.  Some advice, a person would be well advised to ignore.

Old, Gray, Falling Down

It never occurred to me that our sturdy redwood fence would ever fall down.  After almost four decades it has gone the way of London Bridge.

Who Knew

"A view of a production well near the Continental Resources Inc. offices north of Buffalo in Harding County on Thursday, March 10, 2011. The company recently came online with a new station to create air pressure to push oil out to the production wells. The new station draws so much power that it has its own substation on site. (Kristina Barker/Journal staff)"


According to Kevin Woster, Rapid City Journal Staff, "The capital of South Dakota is Harding County, In the state's northwest corner.  It is a place where oil and natural gas development fits in nicely with sheep and cattle grazing - and has for more than half a century."


My dad included Thumb Butte in many of his western paintings.  The above photo is lovely with the snow.  The oil well is a bonus for the hard working ranchers and some wise homesteader's descendants.  I suppose one of the reason my dad featured the butte in his paintings was that he herded sheep in the area.  When they were safe and feeding on the buffalo grass, he would climb the butte and carve something into the red sandstone.

Bring on the Bees

Bring on the bees!  There was a time in my life that I never gave a bee a second thought unless I mistakenly thought it was a wasp.  It is amazing how when one thinks some thing is endangered, they get very important.  Bees are life itself.

We spray the pear tree after the blossoms drop and after the pollinators have done their work.  I appreciate the work of bees or whatever else spreads the stuff of life around.

I once had a little ornamental pepper houseplant  that I needed to use a little paint brush and do the task myself,  flower by flower.  I miss that little spot of red in my houseplant collection. At the moment six African violets bloom near my windows.  They are the offspring from the plants my mother started from leaves the year she died, 1996.  She made mulch on her own windowsill in the assisted living facility she lived in for about five years.  When I stopped to do her hair, I often got to see the progress of the last banana peel in the small plastic bag. It never smelled of anything but rich moist loam.  I still don't know how she managed it.  My attempts turned to white mold and horrible stenches.

First Newborn Bison Calf

According to today's Black Hills Travel Blog, the baby above is the first born calf of the 350 that are expected to be born this spring  in Custer State Park.  The 1,300 bison is one of the largest pubically-owned herds in the world.


The Badger Hole in the park is where South Dakota's first poet laureate, Charles Badger Clark, lived the last 30 years of his life.  There he wrote poetry, read from his extensive library and wrote many letters.  He died at 74 in 1957.  My small graduating class of 13,  Buffalo, SD, 1953, had the privilege of hearing him deliver our graduation address.

His lectures kept him alive but were unimportant to him other than the attendant social intercourse. Notwithstanding his own attitude, the influence his speeches, especially commencement addresses, had on the state's young people was inestimable.  His message was often serious but tempered with his unflagging good humor, and always couched in common sense terms and logic. The Old West had taught him the values of self-reliance and the virtues of nature, and he passed this experience on to his eager young audiences.

Finlandia

This is my song gospel christian songs free mp3 midi download

Our Lenten Services at Holy Cross conclude with the Lord's Prayer "Living Words" sung to Sibelius' Finlandia. It is so beautiful it is painful. Our retired pastor, Vernon Jacobs, wrote the arrangement. It was sung at his funeral by the local Lutheran Brotherhood Chorus.

Our Father God residing now in heaven. Hallowed be thy name forever more. Thy Kingdom come, Thy holy will be done__on earth as it is surely done in heav'n. Give us this day our daily bread, O give us__that we may live in health and strength to serve.

To thee O God we come our sins confession. Forgive us Lord as others_we forgive. And lead us not into temptations pathways but from all evil guide us all our days. For the dominion power and the glory are Thine for ever and ever, A men.

Drudge Targets Mayor

I  check out the Drudge Report fairly regularly.  Our daily newspaper subscription is going to run out sometime soon and we are going to read our news online.  We have gone on a vacation hold when we knew we would be too busy to get the paper read and asked to have the subscription lengthened for as many days as we are gone (read that as "too busy to read the paper".)  Thus we have probably extended beyond what might be polite.  One can avoid those advertisements that fill the November and December newspapers. 

          So we check out Drudge, and a few world wide bookmarked newspapers.  It was amusing to see our taxing mayor on top of the list this morning.  Suttle unrolls toilet paper tax. 

"Mayor Pushes Washington For Federal Toilet Paper Tax..."  If the tax goes Federal, Omaha folks won't be tempted to drive over the bridge to Counsel Bluffs, to load up on TP. That was good thinking of him.  Counsel Bluffs gets all of our gamblers pocket change the way it is with their River Boat Casinos.

Toilet Paper Tax

The headline in this morning's paper contains a lot of toilet talk. "Mayor unrolls a novel way to wipe out sewer costs."  The article includes his proposal for a ten-cent federal tax on every roll of toilet paper you buy.  Omaha has been mandated to start a multi billion-dollar sewer project.  Of course funding is unavailable and there is a completion date demanding dirt must be dug and trunk lines put down to replace old outdated sewer lines by 2024.

Ten cents per roll seems like a lot.  We all know what the Boston colonists did over the tea tax, which led to our tea party demonstrators of today.  Toilet paper tax could lead to a toilet party, heaven forbid.

This is the same mayor that I signed the petition to recall..and got myself in the paper and on television.  He taxed our restaurants and even the folks that drove into Omaha to work from out of the city limits.  The latter has been withdrawn as it bordered unconstitutional as it was flagrant taxation without representation.

I am beginning to feel sorry for our mayor.

Only a Chair

When I went online to see what I could find on purchasing a good chair, I discovered that I am not alone in my sitting angst.  Actually sitting in any chair is very uncomfortable unless the mint chocolate chip ice cream pleasure overrides the sitting pain.

The above unique dining chairs fit in with our lifestyle.  They were on sale.  The price was right.  We had to take the table that went with them.  The second set of four had to be ordered from Kansas City.  I was charmed by the colorful insets.  At first I thought they were stone, but with closer inspection I suppose they are ceramic tiles. I wouldn't be too surprised if they are concrete.  Beware if you are charmed by a chair. 

The Kansas City four had to be assembled at home.  I am very fortunate to have had a "handy" man in the house for going on 57 years.  He had them assembled in no time..actually he started in the afternoon and it was nearly dark when he brought the last of them into the house.  He assembled them on the tail gate of his pick up.

Around the table (no, not the new one which is much too small for company) they retained their charm until we tried to get up.  The back legs caught on the carpet and had a tendency to fly over backwards.  It was alarming and we tried to move the table so they wouldn't break the sliding glass to the back porch.  Shopping for slides and attaching them to the 16 back legs was a bit of a chore in itself.  It took a power drill and some Gorilla Glue to get them to stay put.

As I was dusting them, a Safety Usage Sheet called "Chairs" came down from under the seat of one.  It was interesting:
1. Make sure to follow all assembly instructions provided
2 NEVER stand on the chair (not my bold and caps)
3. DO NOT sit on the edge of the chair.  Sit only in the center.
4. DO NOT lean back with excessive force as chair may tip over
5. Keep fingers AWAY from swivels, tilts, and castors, as well as any sharp edges
6. Make sure to routinely check and tighten all screws, nuts and bolts
7.  GRASP CHAIR FIRMLY BEFORE SITTING
8. Any defects that could cause bodily harm should be reported to place of purchase immediately.

How we sit relates more to culture than anatomy, and many cultures are chair-free. Gandhi sat on the floor as a way to resist “Westernization” and honor local customs. The hammock originated 1,000 years ago in migratory cultures of Central America—woven from the bark of the Hamack tree, it traveled light, floated above the ground to fend off insects, and breathed in the humid air.
Pasted from <http://www.onegoodchair.com/competition/2009/> 

 The spine “works” well when a person stands, curving gently inward at the lower back and neck and outward between the shoulder blades and at the pelvis. When a person stands, the disc pressures are lower than when the person sits.  There is little disagreement about this basic fact: The human spine

and muscular/skeletal system are two areas most vulnerable to the stresses of sitting.  
You no doubt notice that this site had a design competition in 2009.  I noticed that a few of the designs could have doubled as Inquisition Torture apparatus.

No doubt Gandhi had the right idea.  But then he apparently never had a bad knee or arthritis.

Ash Wednesday

As I write this our community at Holy Cross is gathering for the liturgical imposition of ashes.  Our pastor will mark the forehead of each worshiper with black ashes in the shape of a cross.  With each imposition, our pastor will say "Remember that thou art dust and to dust thou shall return." 


And why am I not there instead of here?  Not driving is such a confinement.  One adjusts mentally when they know there is no sense in taking such chances on a whim.  Pain requires a bit more medication than is good for operating machinery, as the label says. "No alcohol," either. So be it.

" I know that Lent is going to be a very hard time for me. The choice for your way has to be made every moment of my life.  I have to choose thoughts that are your thoughts, words that are your words, and actions that are your actions. There are not times or places without choices. And I know how deeply I resist choosing you."

"Please, Lord, be with me at every moment and in every place. Give me the strength and the courage to live this season faithfully, so that, when Easter comes, I will be able to taste with joy the new life that you have prepared for me."

Cancer's Claims

Dying can become our greatest gift if we prepare ourselves to die well.  Jesus died well because through dying he sent his Spirit of Love to his friends, who with that Holy Spirit could live better lives.  My own mother died well, but not of cancer.  Cancer seems to bring a different dimension to death.  My dad died of cancer. It was horrific and left me shaken and broken.

A dearly loved cousin died of cancer last week.  She chose not to be burned, poisoned or cut, as she called the typical cancer treatments.  She died so, so sick and in such unimaginable pain it is hard to speak of it.  She told me she fought the devil every step of the way through life.  Her mother walked away from her home, her husband, and her five children and went away on the "mail" with a small suitcase and wasn't heard from again for 40 years. My cousin knew loneliness and too many short term homes to give her much security.  She was my age and I loved her for her optimism, her faithful Christian life, her grit and her life experience stories.  I miss her and will miss her forever.

A daughter in law's niece just died of cancer yesterday.  She was young, beautiful, and expected a miracle. She blogs "My Cancer and Me."  This is her last entry; it includes her beautiful photo.

2.20.2011

A new beginning...

Today at 9:20am I received my wings! ...I'm crusin the beach in my shiney new jeep with my hair blowing in the breeze and my dog Taz riding shotgun! 

What I am thankful for: HEAVEN!!

The Librarian

Library school in the early '70,s in reflection seems archaic.  We had to learn to write library cards for the catalog; getting every single bit of information regarding a book in the right place on the card, in proper wording or abbreviating, and the subject heads and cross references had to be by the book bible, the Anglo-American Cataloging Rules, 2nd Edition.  My irritation in college was the working librarian who would come to class with her cards empty and whine till I let her copy my cards.  People like her should burn in hell and people like me should be there to dip my finger in water for her parched mouth.  That is a bit strong, perhaps.

This does not include determining the subject headings.  Working in the K-12 educational libraries, which was my end goal, I and my class mates, later my library colleagues, classified our material by the Dewey Decimal Classification system.  Melvil Dewey has had his system modified about 22 times.  I wouldn't be surprised if he will be  thrown under a table soon, if he hasn't been already.  When I sent the biography of my dad, "Artist and Blacksmith: Axel Sacrison" to the Library of Congress for cataloging and copyrighting one of the subject headings listed for that book was "Outsider art."

Below will show you how tedious this business was/is.  Today I have the card catalog cabinet from the high school at which I taught. I chose the cabinet from the Math department and saved one drawer of the old cards.  I should have saved more.  But what did I know then?  Not much. When the catalog was automated the furniture went to the librarians who had to live through this brutality for most of their working years.  It now makes very nice jewelry drawers.  Not that I have much of that.  I do have two pieces of jade in it that a New Zealand Maori artisan gave me with sandpaper to work it into a brilliant square and oblong when I get old.

LC Control No.:	2003277187
LCCN Permalink:	http://lccn.loc.gov/2003277187
Type of Material:	Book (Print, Microform, Electronic, etc.)
Personal Name:	Boe, Willo B.
Main Title:	Artist and blacksmith, Axel Sacrison / by Willo B. Boe.
Published/Created:	[Omaha, NE] : W.B. Boe, c2002.
Related Names:	Sacrison, Axel, 1899-1966.
Description:	1 v. (various pagings) : ill. (some col.) ; 22 x 28 cm.
Notes:	"With partial catalog of art work by John Axel Sacrison."
	Includes bibliographical references.
Subjects:	Sacrison, Axel, 1899-1966 --Catalogs.
	Outsider art --South Dakota --Catalogs.
	Finnish Americans --South Dakota.
LC Classification:	ND237.S14 A4 2002
Geographic Area Code:	n-us-sd
Quality Code:	pcc
CALL NUMBER:	ND237.S4213 A4 2002
	Copy 1
-- Request in:	Jefferson or Adams Building Reading Rooms

Gentleness

Dressed in Gentleness
The paragraphs below are from Henri J.M. Nouwen's Bread for the Journey.

"Once in a while we meet a gentle person. Gentleness is a virtue hard to find in a society that admires toughness and roughness. We are encouraged to get things done and to get them done fast, even when people get hurt in the process. Success, accomplishment, and productivity count. But the cost is high. There is no place for gentleness in such a milieu.

Gentle is the one who does "not break the crushed reed, or snuff the faltering wick" (Matthew 12:20). Gentle is the one who is attentive to the strengths and weaknesses of the other and enjoys being together more than accomplishing something. A gentle person treads lightly, listens carefully, looks tenderly, and touches with reverence. A gentle person knows that true growth requires nurture, not force. Let's dress ourselves with gentleness. In our tough and often unbending world our gentleness can be a vivid reminder of the presence of God among us."



Reading the above Meditation brings to my mind all of my Sisters-In-Law.  I have seven of them and for this only child, what a blessing these gentle women are in my life.  They " tread lightly, listen carefully, look tenderly, and touch with reverence."  Being together is all too seldom.


When I was small I longed for a sister or brother.  It was not to be, so the 11 cousins nearer to my age on the street where I lived were my playmates. These cousins could be called gentle in spite of the fact that they were all boys.  I was accepted in my braids, and bib overalls; I dug wild onions, picked wild sweet peas, played marbles, one O cat, rode Aunt Muriel's milk cow calves, sledded down nearby small hills, and down larger ones on a tobbagan with these kind gentle boys.  My girl cousins lived on ranches and it was a great gift to spend time with them.  It still is so.

Minding Your Business

What is it about women beyond a certain age?  I thought my own mother, bless her soul, was too outspoken.  I have followed in her footsteps, unfortunately.  For years I suffered listening to her and He Who Must Be Obeyed argue over big and little issues over our Sunday dinner table.  I swore I would never take on people that could out argue me with their tongues tied.  It was my own tongue that was tied securely for years.


Maybe as I close in on 80, being in the last half of the 70's, in the back of my mind I think what would it matter to express my thoughts.  This week I found out "the matter" at least three times; and because of the Internet it might matter as long as the Cyber-Universe does which is going to be after I am only an unpleasant memory in some descendent's mind.


The public embarrassment first happened when our city became inflamed over a mayor who is tax happy. I signed the petition for a recall.  The petition signers were published in our Omaha World Herald and are listed on the Internet by zip code.  There I am in print and online over and over.


On the afternoon of the Recall Vote two well dressed young men approached me on the sidewalk as I clambered out of the truck that is too difficult to get in and out of.  My first mistake was to quip in humor, that I could tell they were up to no good. Immediately the ABC affiliate television station camera was whipped out from behind one of the fellows.  In no time I had a microphone in my face and was smarting off answers to personal questions.  So much for the secret ballot.  My opinion was on the 5 O'clock news and the 10 O'clock news.  More people watch the news than I expected.


With a little research, I found my statements online in a video.  White hair not fixed, not one touch of makeup, brains in my back pocket for sure.  My tongue worked a little too fast, and I am horrified at the everlasting coverage. No, I am not going to give you a link to it and I hope that you can't find one.


 To make matters worse, I entered an on-line fray between my grown sons this past week.  As I type this, I would be well advised to mind my own business, sink underneath an afghan, and read a book while I can still see. I am looking for a nice pillow to comfort me under that afghan.  If I had capitalized that word this would have been a different story.

Band of Brothers WWII

On the front page of the Omaha World Herald this morning: "A brother and a hero dead at 94.   The old man of Easy Company is gone."  

Ed Mauser of Omaha, the oldest surviving member of the 101st Airborne Division's famed Band of Brothers unit in Europe during World War II, died at his home Friday. He was 94.Mauser's death leaves 35 known living veterans of famed Easy Company.  Mauser,  parachuted into France on D-Day and fought across Europe, .  “Ed was a good soldier. He went through his share of hell,” one of the Brothers commented.

Four of  my grandmother's six brothers  were soldiers in WWI.  Two of her sisters married soldiers of that war.  The get-togethers of the extended family happened fairly often; apparently I was off playing with my cousins and missed any conversations on their war experiences. My father and my grandpa both signed up for the draft but neither were called.  My dad said he was too old and perhaps that was the case with my grandpa as well.

My own wartime hero was a teen when my parents moved into Buffalo, SD when I was a toddler. Frankie's parents rented a small house to us and he lived with his parents in the house next door. Frank enlisted in the Army Air Corps, trained as a navigator, and was assigned to a bomber crew, flying B-24 Liberators on combat missions out of Italy. His bomber was shot down over Germany and he was a prisoner of war for six months.

Frank gave me a book he wrote called Five Combat Missions: Then Fifty More, in which he states "Like people featured in Tom Bowkaw's popular book,   The Greatest Generation, World War II was one of the "defining moments" of my life. 

The last time we saw Frank, he was one of the Military Honor Guards at my cousin's funeral. 

Ezra Kind

Quoting a paragraph in the Editor's Notebook  of the South Dakota Magazine, "The Thoen Stone located at the Adams Museum in Deadwood, is another prized museum piece with an interesting story. The stone is an 8 1/2 by 10 inch scrap of sandstone, purportedly found near Spearfish in 1887 by Louis Thoen. Inscribed on both sides is a message that is still the subject of controversy. The rough script describes how a band of seven men found “all the gold we could carry” in the northern Black Hills, and then were killed by Indian warriors — all except for the writer, Ezra Kind. Kind supposedly wrote that he was out of food, “without a gun and hiding for his life”. The inscription is dated 1834, 40 years before the Custer expedition into the Hills. The fate of Mr. Kind is unknown, as is the validity of the stone itself."  


In one of my memories of the treasured past is a graduate class through the Black Hills State University called "Ghost Towns and Gold Mines of the Northern Black Hills."  It was an on site experience which included a trip through the Adam's Museum in Deadwood, SD.  There we saw the last written words of Ezra Kind on a stone found near Spearfish by Louis Thoen in 1887.  A close and dear friend's father purchased the Thoen property which is now hers. One of her daughters lives in the Thoen home. It is located just across the Interstate from the place that the stone was found.  This is not the only history made real for me through that delicate entity called paying attention while living.  Below is another regarding shepherds.


The link to the Editor's Notebook above will show a photo of the Archer Gilfillan sheep wagon, a sheep wagon that my father incorporated into a couple of paintings of sheep.  Both my father and Gilfillan spent some years herding sheep in Harding County, SD for sheep ranchers.  The term "sheep herders" has a negative ring to it, I love the sound of "shepherd," however that was a term that was never used.  Too Biblical perhaps.


A little research came up with many links for the "Thoen Stone."  One of the more surprising is attributed to Black Hills Light and Power. Here one has a small history of the towns of the Black Hills.  The article midway down on Spearfish begins with the story of Ezra Kind's last legacy.

Violence With Us

History of the Indian Wars  by Samuel Penhallow is an amazing book; it is stark in its narrative, difficult to read, and is an account of the bloody and tragic relationship between the adventurous and aggressive colonists and the resistive Indians during the period from 1703 to the ratified peace treaties of 1723.

I read it aloud to my beloved either last winter or the winter before.  This was not our first experience with this typography. I had learned about it in a course called The History of the Written Word. HWMBO found it in Wisconsin history ledgers and church documents when he was researching his Norwegian immigrant Great Grandmother and her family.  If you click the underlined link above to see an example of pages 36 and 37 you will see how confusing it can be, not just to read silently, but to read aloud.  It took a while before I could sort out the 's' that looked like 'f'' and the odd capitalized words in the middle of a sentence.

"On the 8th of July, five Indians a little before Night, fell on an Out-houfe in Reading, where they furpriz'd a Woman with eight Children; the former with the three youngeft were inftantly difpatcht, and the other they carried Captive; but one of the Children unable to travel, they knockt on the head, and left in the Swamp, concluding it was dead, but a while after it was found alive."

To find out how the story comes out click on the above link.  I believe the entire book is available to read online. It is helpful to enlarge it with the + icon on the lower right.

Wonders of the Internet, wonders of online access to so many books.  Yes, Amazon provides Kindle on your PC no charge, at least they did a while back.  As much as I love the feel and smell of a book in my hands, some better than others of course, depending on the binding I suppose, still one cannot beat the availability of  information online.  Thanks to Project Gutenburg, Google, Amazon Kindle for PC (Free), LibriVox,

It is a Beautiful World

This sturdy little outfit no doubt has prevented a few heart attacks.  After pushing the snow off of our driveway this morning, the man of the house went across the street to plow out a neighbor lady's driveway.

The blade had to be replaced last summer.  It is amazing how the elements can rust equipment in spite of several paintings.  The photo reminds me of our little son's Tonka toy trucks of the 1950's.

Today my world is at its pristine prettiest.

Nation's Center News, Buffalo,SD

The Internet is a great thing to have in retirement.  I will never tire of researching every little thing that piques my curiosity.  Cruising around, I decided to Google my hometown newspaper, The Nation's Center News,  and did an image search.  I was startled to see my own photo.  I was a bit  taken aback when I clicked on my photo.  Anonymous, one is not.


A classmate retired in our hometown; he spent 20 years teaching in Saudi Arabia and was in the Peace Corps prior to that. Now he upholds the community with Lion's Club projects, prodded the locals to beautify the town for our centennial celebration, is active in our church, and writes a column for the hometown paper.  His column has been a source of information about topics from the Mid-East, old cowboys, to the town dogs of his childhood.  They were my town dogs as well.  Kids in small towns know the dogs as well as the people, probably better.


Last week his News and Views column was a review of my latest book:   "One of my favorite Christmas presents this year came to my mail box a few days before Christmas and was totally unexpected.  It was a book edited by my old friend Willo Sacrison Boe...about Willo's great aunt."  He did not miss a thing.   "I once read that no book of non-fiction is ever written without the comfort, moral support, and tangible aid of others.  Willo fully acknowledges this and that is why the title page says "Edited by Willo B. Boe."


Thanks for your kind review, Delbert.

For Want of a Switcher

Perhaps I am becoming less suspicious and more trusting in my age;  at any rate I purchased an new Sony television set for our bedroom.  But the 'modern millie' thing is that I ordered it from Amazon.  I even surprised myself.  It made perfectly good sense, no tax, no shipping charges and Sony is Sony.  We have had another similar set for a few years.

It came in two days.  I couldn't believe it.  Having it delivered to the door was a huge plus, as was not having to jostle through the post holiday bargain buyers.  Amazon's price compared very favorably with the Best Buy down the street or our famous Nebraska Furniture Mart a little further on.  So it came in the door and HWMBO put it on the wall mount that a son fashioned from steel and composite for the old set.

Following the instructions I found 26 channels that we can pick up in addition to the 28 we get from Cox on their now defunct basic tier.  We were grandfathered into that when we dropped the annoying cable news channels.  Cox no longer offers it but that is fine with us, especially with the many digital channels available on this sweet TV set.

I don't mean to sound like a commercial, but I am so happy with this new Sony TV and with Amazon.  And why did we get a new set?  The "switcher" (remote control) flew off the bed so many times that many of the functions quit working.  What good is a bedroom television without a switcher?  We could no longer lower the volume, Channel 4 stopped working,  Too often we couldn't turn it off without getting up to unplug the thing.

Read Books Online Free

Read Books Online Free