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.

The New Cessna

Our son and his beautiful bride of over a quarter century came home this past weekend.

The visit was sweet, as it always is. We are enveloped in such love in their presence, it is hard to describe.

Unfortunately, their flight home was so bumpy, his passenger got very sick. Motion sickness is unbelievably debilitating.

Don't Interrupt

There is nothing so satisfying as a great conversation. Some people do it so well. Some folks struggle with it. I, the introvert, couldn't open my mouth for years. But when I finally found that I too, could talk; it is pretty hard to stop.

Someone is selling a book with the points of good conversation:
1. Don't interrupt.
2. Don't advise.
3. Don't one-up.

wikiHow has 12 tips for the art of conversation. The first being Listen. He Who Must Be Obeyed gets very annoyed at me as he thinks I play 20 questions with the people I talk to. It is just that I find others and their interests and activities very interesting.

The other night we had dinner with a favorite couple. I am not certain of their political party affiliation but knowing them well I tip toed into the topic of Obama and his pastor. I had read Salt's link to the Martin Marty article on Wright and listened to Bill Moyers interview with him. I said that I had discovered more than the broadcasters had shared with the world. The only person I annoyed, that I know about, was HWMBO.

The thing about what one person thinks is a great conversation is that one never knows how the rest in the discussion are perceiving it. Therein is the risk.

Opening a Deep Well

The Daily Meditation from the Henri Nouwen book "Bread for the Journey," which the Daily Meditation eLetter is based continues today on the subject of writing.
"Writing is not just jotting down ideas. Often we say: "I don't know what to write. I have no thoughts worth writing down. "but much good writing emerges from the process of writing itself. As we simply sit down in front of a sheet of paper and start to experess in words what is on our minds or in our hearts, new ideas emerge, ideas that can surprise us and lead us to inner places we hardly knew were there.

One of the most satisfying aspects of writing is that it can open in us deep wells of hidden treasures that are beautiful for us as well as for others to see." Henri Nouwen, Meditation for April 28th, 2008.

The writings of Nouwen are soul soothing and peace inducing. Much like those of Hildred, who I have linked as "daybyday" to the right with other blogs of consequence. Such writers are to be treasured and I am thankful for them.

Writing

WRITING TO SAVE THE DAY
(From Henri Nouwen's Daily Meditation for April 27th, 2008) "Writing can be a true spiritual discipline. Writing can help us to concentrate, to get in touch wit the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories. Writing can be good for others who might read what we write.

Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating day can be "redeemed" by writing about it. By writing we claim what we have lived and thus integrate it more fully into our journeys. Writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others too."
Henri Nouwen spent his life helping people respond to the universal “yearning for love, unity, and communion that doesn’t go away”. Is it possible to touch and taste the love of God? How can we live a spiritual life that embraces the pain and suffering of our lives and in the world, and gives us the freedom to love deeply wherever we are?

If this looks familiar, it is perhaps because I used this once before from the Henri Nouwen Web Site.

Termespheres

An Artist at work in Spearfish, SD. This is a pleasant way to watch a man at work.

Reciting Poetry

On the Real Age site today are a few ways to keep ones brain working. One suggestion is to memorize poetry. My mother had done that and was able to recite poems at the drop of a hat or fork, depending upon the situation. The older she got the more she recalled.

How do I remember thee? Let me count the ways . . .

Exercising your brain helps keep it young, and one of the best ways to work your mental muscle is to read, write, and memorize poetry. Studies show that committing your favorite verses to memory not only can preserve mental function, but also improve it.

The ten steps to memorize poetry:

Abundant Days

Yesterday was most pleasant. It began with lunch with former teacher friends; seven of us catching up on the past month. Family events, new baby pictures, city politics, school news. We all worked in Westside High School Library/Media.

The gain was turned up on my hearing aid Tuesday. I will have two more sessions for that before I get to 'normal' hearing in that ear. I love my hearing aid. The new technology tells my Au.D (Doctor of Audiology?) how many hours I have worn it, the noise environment I have been in and automatically adjusts itself for directional input.

If they can put a GPS on an ankle, they could put it in a hearing aid and those elders who wander away from home could be found. Maybe a sweet voice could direct us there through encouragement and 'right and left' or 'north and south,' whichever we grew up with.

He Who Must Be Obeyed took me shopping in the afternoon to take advantage of a good sale. Spring shirts are nice as are two new swim suits. The pool is filling up. About 24 hours ago the hose was turned on and tomorrow some time, it should be full. The weather is cold and we are expecting severe storms during the night. The pool heater will go on a little later on and the outdoor shower will be hooked up.

Today was a joy. The fabric for the couch is in. The yardage for the industrial quilter has been delivered. One side of the seat cushions and the back cushions will be quilted. We have changed the color but the designer's talents will live on with the quilting and the pleating. Conducting personal business is pleasant.

Then there were the phone calls from a son and a high school girl friend. Both bright spots in life that warm my heart. Both will visit this summer with teen aged children.

South Dakota Magazine

This morning the South Dakota Magazine folks have highlighted the birthday of the Norwegian author, Ole E. Rolvaag, born in 1876. I didn't realize that he settled in Union County, where the first Boe family in the US came to claim the first homestead after the Civil War. The Immigrant, Andrew Boe, as a Civil War veteran, was awarded two homesteads as part of his severance package. He filed the second in the Black Hills.

I suppose every immigrant prior to the 1900's has a story that would make a movie today if they just told it. I think their humility, and not seeing themselves as heroes of the greatest magnitude, has kept most of the stories untold and unsung.

"Giant in the Earth." Truer words were never spoken.

Thanks, Bernie Hunhoff, for the sweet article on "My Father the Painter."

It is a Good Day Because

He has the pool repairs complete
The large quartz stones are moved
The yard is raked and ready for Spring
I am working on my book writing project
Old tires will be taken to be recycled
The garbage corral is getting cleaned
The groceries are bought and put away
A sister in law called me yesterday!

High Diddle Diddle, The Cat and the Fiddle

Apr. 20, 6:25 a.m. EDT — Full Pink Moon. The grass pink or wild ground phlox is one of the earliest widespread flowers of the spring. Other names:Full Sprouting Grass Moon, the Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes, the Full Fish Moon, when the shad spawn upstream.

Child Moon by Carl Sandburg
The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, "See the moon!"
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.

Find Time

As I went through my mother's papers,I found my parents "Small Catechism" 1958 Printing. In my dad's small beautiful handwriting on the front is his name. My mother was the Sunday School Superintendent for a time after I left home and my dad taught a Sunday School class.

Folded inside it was a list written in my mother's handwriting on a sheet of pink stationary. "Find time for these 10 things." The list follows:

Find Time for family, it is the nucleus of our lives.
Find Time for work, it is the back bone of success.
Find time for prayer,it is the source of inner peace and strength.
Find time for laughter, it is a healing balm.
Find time for playing, it is a return to youth.
Find time for helping others, it gives a greater purpose to life.
Find time for love, it is by loving that we are loved.
Find time for thinking, it is a fountain of inspiration.
Find time for dreaming, it is our link with the wonder of the universe.
Find time for planning, it helps us find the time we need for the first nine.

Birthdays Today

WASHINGTON (AP) - President Bush has quite a birthday present for Pope Benedict XVI: at least 9,000 excited guests gathered on the White House's South Lawn for a 21-gun salute, a famed soprano's rendition of "The Lord's Prayer" and an emotional presidential welcome.

Our youngest son is celebrating his 45th birthday with us today. Baking a cake seems to be the thing to do, seeing we love to do things the old way.

April 15 Not Just Taxes

Some think of today as synonymous with taxes. It's the birthday of a brilliant man who had a hard time finishing things, Leonardo da Vinci, born in the Republic of Florence (1452). Though he lived for 67 years, only 17 of his paintings are known to exist, and only a few of those were finished to his satisfaction, including The Last Supper and Mona Lisa.

He kept notebooks full of ideas about architecture and technology of all kinds. Even the doodle pictures of parachutes he drew in the margin of his notes turned out to be technically perfect designs. He drew up plans for an assault battleship, a construction crane, a trench-digging machine, a revolving bridge, and a deep-sea diving suit. He made architectural sketches of churches that looked like seashells or blossoming flowers, none of which got built because they were too impractical. Most of his ideas were too ambitious for the tools that existed at the time.

In 1482, Leonardo began a sculpture of a horse. It was extremely difficult to design because the final product would weigh many tons when cast in bronze, and Leonardo wanted the horse to be rearing back on its hind legs. He spent 11 years sketching out the solution to the problem of the horse's balance, but when he tried to cast the horse in bronze, he found that all the bronze in the city had been used to build cannons for an impending war. So the sculpture went unfinished until 1999, when a Japanese-American sculptor used Leonardo's drawings and plans to build the horse. The finished product was 23 feet high, weighed 15 tons, and was perfectly balanced. For the rest of the story see The Writer's Almanac on this day.

Sofa Saga

I sometimes rage at materialistic capitolism, but when combined with comparison shopping it works well for the consumer. We have found fabric, an upholsterer, a quilter, and all of it makes us happy. Our 30 year old couch will be as good as new by the middle of June. How excellent that worries are reduced to mere sofas.

Arm Breaking Sofas

Old people and old furniture are comfortable companions. In the late '70's I worked as a school librarian in a building in which a co-worker was married to a furniture designer for Mastercraft, an Omaha company. During the holidays Mastercraft had a private sale for friends and employees.

The way this went, if you saw something you wanted you pulled the price tag off of it. HWMBO snagged the price label from this couch at first sight. It had been made for an individual in Omaha who decided she didn't want it. She would have paid $1,000, we got it for $300. Now 30 years later I am pushing, as women often will, to have it re-upholstered.

Today we looked at fabric samples and got an estimate from people that have done work for us before. The work was excellent and they would pick up and deliver. The quote was close to $2,000.

Then we went to the famous Nebraska Furniture Mart of Warren Buffett renoun. We looked at pull-out queen sized bed sofas, all under a thousand dollars. I asked to see one pulled out. The sales lady couldn't get it open. She called a fellow over who turned it upside down and gave it a couple of kicks. Her arm was in the mechanism when it flew open and I would n't be surprised if it is broken. I wish I hadn't asked.

I love my old couch. I have never broken anything so much as a fingernail opening it. Maybe I can clean it for a few more years. But new white velveteen fabric would be very nice.

A Good Sabbath ...Saturday

Today was one of those perfect spring days, at the end of which, you enjoy the very thought of the accomplishments, though small, nonetheless rewarding. A son helped me plant a birch clump in a pot, and he helped me rake and bag up the back yard pine needles. He said there is still ice in some places under them. It was pleasant duty and looks nice. It is supposed to rain tonight so perhaps the ferns and hostas will start to show themselves.

Then there is always Saturday evening church services, seeing friends, singing and responding in the liturgy, a thoughtful sermon, familiar hymns, the prayers, the lessons and Gospel. I should have been a Nun. He Who Must Be Obeyed takes our dear elder friend E., in a wheel chair, to the communion rail. Tonight he bumped her into two rows of pews on the way back to our seats.

Marking Time

Aladdin Ranchers moving a herd 20 miles south to begin calving. Ten miles a day is the goal. Many of the cows are mothers by now..

April Fool's Day is right around the corner. I don't enjoy the thought of it as much as I did when I was a child, or when my own offspring were children. Now it simply marks time and will be my 73rd April Fool's Day.

April 1st. The beginning of yard waste pick-up by the city for those tree trimmings and fall leaves that didn't get bagged before the service ended last fall.

I see sump pumps in the pool lowering the water level for that yearly patching. Both the back and front yard get an April soaking, with or without rain.

April is a month to convert a winter yard to one ready to greet warm weather with green things emerging from the earth and tips of branches. The robins are back and the noisy blackbirds are eyeing the trees for nesting spots. Even a chick-a-dee or two have come to the feeders. We had such an abundance of them before West Nile disease hit them hard. I think it might have gotten our owl family in the back corner, as well.

It is time to see if the squirrels have left a few tulip bulbs to bloom. I planted a couple of planters of them last fall and I have seen busy bushytails digging in them over the last few weeks. If they got them, I will switch to daffodils next fall.

The son that moved in a couple of months ago has obtained employment and is moving into a rented place closer to his work at Mid America Energy across the Missouri in Iowa. He will be teaching OSHA and environmental rules and regulations to 500 new contractors coming in to begin an expansion of the facility.

Splendid Spring Visions

Sandhill Cranes along the Platte River in Nebraska. 300,000 stop on their way north, spending a month to gain about a third of their total body weight to fortify the flight for some as far as Siberia. They are simply magnificent.


This herd or mares were in the corner of a pasture in Kieth County, Nebraska.

Their friendly demeanor drew me in and as I stood by the fence with my camera one came over to inspect her city visitor.



No, this is no camera trick. She put her nose over the fence and tolerated a friendly pat or two, and filled the view finder of the camera.

This baby was only minutes old and not black, but one of the beautiful Herefords that dotted all the prairies of Harding County when I grew up.

I was not taking any chances on this new mother by getting any nearer.
The Canada Snow Geese filled the sky and the stubble field along I 29 the morning we drove to the Black Hills. They were a little preview of the sights and sounds of spring in the days to come.

Back in Keith County

We are not going to Keith County, but the John Janovy book is going with us to the Black Hills in the morning. We read his "Keith County Journal" going westward a few years ago. That was "hailed as a classic of its kind and compared to the writings of Thoreau" on the jacket. We truly enjoyed it.

He writes: "...Dip into it when you need to think unfettered thoughts and feel non-directed feelings, when you are ready to free that original and creative element of your own self." Keith County is more than a place, it is a state of mind.

I had best pack a few cough drops to keep my voice going after our two week colds. I will also pack a camera. The friend I am visiting has been watching the birth of baby Black Angus calves near her yard. I hope to photograph one of the curly little babies.

Janovy is a professor of biology at the University of Nebraska.

Fantasy Sleep

It was another one of those nights; I spent four hours thinking and trying to find a radio station worth listening to. If I were a sports fan, I would have it made. Same thing if I enjoyed country music. A little of either goes a long way. Finally at midnight one of the Coast to Coast guests entertained my racing mind with such fantasy I went promptly sleep. My extravagance is using AA cells.

The reality/predictions were that the US has vaults all over Europe ready with tons of US Redbacks with which the US will instigate a double currency system where those with offshore accounts will be given "redbacks," and there will be a separate US-only currency. It will take 12 years for our fall after the billions that have been printed to shore up the banks and defaulted mortgages, as well as the pay off to the citizens promised this spring. "Feed them cake," comes to mind.

Efforts have begun to move the US capital to Denver, which will be the one of the final battlegrounds in a war with China around 2018.

The European Union will collapse within 12 years of its instigation...along with the Euro. The North American Union is in the works with Mexico, the US, and Canada replacing currency with a common currency.

Enough? Wakefulness and Sleep are both blessings with or without the fairy tales.

Skinning Cats

I feel like a turtle coming out of hibernation. My shell is brittle, my parts don't want to work right. But it is the warm sun that draws me to stick my head out the door now and then.

I have been struggling with my book project. God love Bill Gates and his crew, but Microsoft Word has about gotten the best of me, in with the way it wants to boss my pages and formats around. There is more than one way to skin a cat, they say. I finally copied the whole thing into an email, in plain text, and copied it from there to a new Word document. Of course I lost all my little sub titles, all of the foot notes, every picture, and all of my index. Redoing them took less time than fighting with the Format the past two days. I don't know why it took me two days to figure out what to do. There probably is an easier way, but I couldn't find it.

The help screens might be easier to understand if they were written in a common language that I understood. The manuals were no more help. Door stops, all of them.

We sprung forward without much notice as we go to church on Saturday nights. Our fairly new watches sprung forward right along with the time change but it took an extra day as the signal is beeped out of Colorado at 3 a.m. and the real change was at 2 a.m. We still have ice and snow on the north side of the house. So I look out the front door which faces south. A person can almost avoid anything.

Today is a dear granddaughter's birthday. This is her first birthday as a mother. Everything changes with that passage. Nothing is ever the same again.

Child of God

Gracious Savior, gentle Shepherd,
Our little ones are dear to Thee;
Gathered with Thine arms and carried
In Thy bosom may they be
Sweetly, gently, safely tended,
From all want and danger free.

Old Enough

Last Friday I had a two and a half hour balance test. It was such an odd event. My eyes were being photographed the entire time; through the moving platform, watching the moving red spot on the wall, the blowing of hot and cold air in my ears, and having to alphabetically name boys names, book titles, countries and states immediately after the cooling and heating up the middle ear. "Schedule an MRI," I was told, "You might have a brain tumor."

Yesterday after the MRI, a no-nonsense otalayngologist, told me that she couldn't see a brain tumor. She will call again today to verify that diagnosis after a Radiologist reads the results also. "Get a cane and a hearing aid." "How old did you say you are?"

Old enough, apparently.

Ethan Axel

Last night we received a call from our daughter in law and son, the newest Gpa Boe. All the bets are off and I doubt if anyone would have guessed that these sweet parents have named the baby "Ethan Axel." I am pleased and amazed that my father's name has been selected for the middle name. John Axel Sacrison 1899-1966, would have been honored.

A Sight for Sore Eyes

This person, has roamed around Harding County, Nebraska, Wyoming, and the Black Hills photographing leps, he calls them. I call them butterflies and millers. On this very cold day, cold enough to call off all the area schools, it was nice to look at flowers, wild weeds, rocks and butterflies.

Have they named the baby? I don't know. Soon a person might take bets on either what or when. Just kidding, of course. Then there are those of us with way too much time on our hands for our own good. Tomorrow is a church lunch outing with some elder friends. Friday is the balance test and Monday I will know something...or not. Maybe my head if full of bone.

This is how long the winter has gotten. He Who Must Be Obeyed and I play solitaire on cable television. Me working the switcher and he trying to find the plays before I do. That is perhaps a half step up from the news that loops over and over. "At least we have to use our minds," he said. But not too much, methinks.

New Daddy and Another Grandpa Boe With Great Grand Baby Boy

Precious Valentine

Blowing Hot Air

Being a dizzy blonde as teenager isn't all that unusual, hence all the dumb blonde jokes. I keep meclizine on hand at all times because I am now deaf and dizzy. Yesterday I had my head examined which included a hearing test, a physical exam of my head and a CT scan of my head bones. Next week I will have a two hour auditory nerve and balance test.

The nurse told He Who Must Be Obeyed that I would be put on a moving platform and they would blow hot and cold air into my ears. I told him that should be easy; Harding County cowboys used to blow hot air in my ears over 50 years ago and it never affected my balance then.

I was told that a person could lose hearing in one ear from a transient ischemic attack (TIA) which is a "mini-stroke" caused by a temporary deficiency of blood supply to the brain.) The first one I had caused a temporary loss of vision in both eyes. She said you have a deviated septum. Who cares!

Paper Whites and Christmas Cactus

On this, probably the coldest day of the winter so far, my "flower bed" in the corner makes me happy. What should have been a Christmas Cactus has been "Thanksgiving to Valentine's Day." The violets are mostly what my mother had started prior to her death in 1995 as is the Christmas Cactus. She lives on in my heart, mind, and they live on in the corner.

Speak of the Devil

Well, the Devil isn't really devilish. You know what the term means. Just minutes ago, or was it hours ago that I wrote of a constitutionalist son. He has his own blog up and running and I have linked him with the Consequential Blogs.

I am ready to be out blogged by my own flesh and blood. He is a good writer and has a lot to say in an entertaining way and I am ready to be entertained by him.

What Century is This!

One of our sons is a constitutionalist and has more arguments for it than Ron Paul. He is indeed from South Dakota and would probably approve of their House passing a bill enabling college students to carry guns on the five campuses in the state.

Perhaps the Professors need to take a course on defensive maneuvers with chalk and an eraser in their hands when some hot headed, closed minded student disagrees with him/her. Or maybe it might be the other way around. Eliminate the class disruption. You know I am exaggerating here so don't get alarmed. I have been reading way too much family western history on whose draw was quicker and how to take care of those cattle rustlers.

With that kind of thinking, Omahans might lobby for carrying guns into shopping centers...just to keep order. I have always contended a shopping mall guard would be worse than hall and cafeteria duty in high school.

PIERRE (AP) - A South Dakota House committee has passed a bill guaranteeing people the right to carry or possess guns on college campuses.

The bill's main sponsor, Rep. Tom Brunner of Nisland, said nearly all mass shootings in recent history occurred in placed where guns are banned. He said criminals have the advantage in gun-free zones because no one else is armed.

The State Affairs Committee voted unanimously to pass HB1261, which would prevent universities and technical schools from restricting the right to carry guns on campus.

The committee then voted unanimously to kill a much different measure that would have made it a crime to have a gun on campus.

The Courage to Be

"Being religious means asking passionately the question of the meaning of our existence and being willing to receive answers, even if the answers hurt." Paul Tillich

Tillich wasn't perfect, but who among us is? "The courage to be is rooted in the God who appears when God has disappeared in the anxiety of doubt."

Reading My Writers

Here I am in the middle of the night in Omaha. It has been a while since I have read the writers I have linked to the right of this column.

Simplicity Professor John Maeda writes elegantly of great people taking care of their people. He also launched a theme on iGoogle that I have downloaded. To quote his explanation in part: It "is based upon a series of strokes I drew by hand and a simple algorithmic manipulation thereof." The fact that it changes every four hours along with the explanation are anything but simple.

He also writes about how important it is to be creative. "Creativity is courage. The world needs more fearless people that can influence all disciplines to challenge their very existence. Creativity is reflection aimed not at yourself, but at the world around you." He doesn't say it, but I know its effectiveness for pain relief, as did Frida Kahlo.

Hildred of "daybyday" writes lovingly and beautifully of her beloved books, past and present.

I get an error when I click on RealLivePreacher. I don't know if it is permanent, if so I will have to take him down and find another of the many bloggers I have become acquainted with.

One almost startling event was seeing one of my blog entries from 2004 quoted in a Letter to the Editor in my home town newspaper, NATION'S CENTER NEWS. I am so new at seeing my name in print that it is jarring. I don't know quite what to make of it.