Happy Day!

       Winter solstice always makes me happy as summer solstice always makes me sad. Even though the increased daylight will not be noticeable for some days knowing that light returns makes me glad. The old saying often holds true "when the light begins to lengthen the cold begins to strengthen." The OFH is a great place to ride out the cold with the perk of a heated garage. Locally those wishing for a White Christmas got their wish. Will the OFH home inmate with a snow shovel in his/her locker break it out and do some shoveling? 😀

"In the Northern Hemisphere, today is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year and the longest night. It's officially the first day of winter and one of the oldest-known holidays in human history. Anthropologists believe that solstice celebrations go back at least 30,000 years, before humans even began farming on a large scale. Many of the most ancient stone structures made by human beings were designed to pinpoint the precise date of the solstice. The stone circles of Stonehenge were arranged to receive the first rays of midwinter sun. Some ancient peoples believed that because daylight was waning, it might go away forever, so they lit huge bonfires to tempt the sun to come back. The tradition of decorating our houses and our trees with lights at this time of year is passed down from those ancient bonfires. In ancient Egypt and Syria, people celebrated the winter solstice as the sun's birthday. In ancient Rome, the winter solstice was celebrated with the festival of Saturnalia, during which all business transactions and even wars were suspended, and slaves were waited upon by their masters. Henry David Thoreau said: "In winter we lead a more inward life. Our hearts are warm and cheery, like cottages under drifts, whose windows and doors are half concealed, but from whose chimneys the smoke cheerfully ascends."' The Writer's Almanac

Coals to Newcastle!

     Today was coffeetime with two friends, both of whom are published authors and they're still writing. Currently I try not to keep books after I've read them. Twice downsizing there were boxes and bags of books of which to dispose. After recently reading Still Writing, Shapiro, it was clearly a book not meant for keeping. So, I brought it to my author friends, thinking it's like bringing Coals to Newcastle.

    They seemed genuinely pleased with it. So, perhaps, it found a place to be appreciated. The only condition imposed was "do not return it to me."

   So this about contains the significance of my day!

Takk for alt,

Al

Transylvania, Romania, has these lovely medieval cities we visited on our driving tour. This is the central square of Sibiu. 

Two Surprises!

      The first surprise happened in late October. Meeting N.O. in church she handed me a wrapped package. Opening it I found a book she was gifting me. By way of disclaimer she said she'd found it in a Little Free Library. The book's cover showed that it was about a Marine and his dog. Though I have more than a passing interest in things Marine and dog I thought "how cute".

     Now for the second surprise. It was beyond cute and very engaging. Craig and Fred: A Marine, A stray Dog, and How They Rescued Each Other, tells the story of Craig and his dog Fred. Craig found a stray dog when he was in a combat situation in Afghanistan. "Fred" immediately bonded with Craig. Pets were totally forbidden to military personnel in Afghanistan by the highest command. In spite of that Craig found a way to send Fred to America. 

    In alternating chapters Craig tells of his Marine experience and his life in the United States. He's a good story teller and is honest about his struggles with PST. Almost killed by a rocket, while deployed, he suffered a traumatic brain injury. His struggles toward recovery and healing are inspiring. 

    Thanks, N.O., for a great read!

Takk for alt,

Al

Old Folks Home

      Here we are, once again inmates of the OFH. The planned return tomorrow was moved up a day to avoid the predicted snow. This early arrival had the bonus of allowing us to attend the Annual Christmas Dinner. The food services directory goes all out with fine spread of food artistically presented. Acquaintances asked "How long are you here for this time?" They were surprised when I replied "April." So, here we are relocated to wait out winter, or as I say "I've come north for the winter." A heated garage is a nice plus, going out from The Little House to a cold vehicle has lost some appeal. Kaia makes the transition easily though she'd love to do more pheasant hunting.

Takk for alt,

Al

Memories, II

      While Joanne and I were staying in Bucharest Ascension Sunday, on the Orthodox calendar, happened.  Walking around central Budapest that Sunday we happened on an Orthodox church holding an Ascension Day service. Following others we entered the worship center as the service was in progress. We stayed for awhile to see the pageantry but mostly to listen to the choir. They sang constantly, from the balcony, a carpella in twelve parts. Worshippers would come, stay awhile and then depart. Priests were doing something around the altar which involved much incenses. We found it very inspiring.

Takk for alt,

Al

                                            Dracula's Castle.   In  Sighișoara, mentioned in yesterday blog, there was a pizza shop called 'Dracula's Pizza.

Memories

        Joanne and I had some good international travel together. Recently something reminded me of my trip to Romania. Perhaps it was stumbling on a young band from Romania doing 'covers' on You Tube. We flew to Bucharest and spent several days in a boutique hotel in the center city. Then we rented a car and drove around Transylvania. Yes, we visited Dracula's Castle where we had a great tour, with one other tourist, and a tour guide who spoke excellent English learned from American TV. He knew all the secret stairways to avoid the groups of tourists.

     One of our favorite stops in Transylvania was the city of Sighisoara. The ancient city was a citadel built on a high hill with a fortified wall for protection. Now a modern city surrounded the walled city. Steps, hundreds of them, led up to the top of the hill. At the top was church, cemetery and the city high school. A road now offered access to the top. The steps were very interesting. There were six steps and a landing, six steps and a landing, and so on until the top was reached.  Why? Because on the seventh day God rested! 

     One of the ancient Lutheran churches in the city had a pulpit outside. It was accessed from a short stair inside, elevated a few feet about the ground with a roof. Why an exterior pulpit. It was from this vantage point the pastor would preach to the lepers gathered in the yard, but excluded from entrance because of their disease.

Takk for alt,

al

                      Inside the walled city.

Well recommended!

       When L finished the book she loaned it to me recommending that I read it. Thanks, L, it is was a fine read. Elizabeth Strout received the Pulitzer for her Olive Kitteridge. Now Tell Me Everything is up to her usual standards. Many characters from her previous books appear in Tell, so it's helpful, but not mandatory, to read her books in the sequence in which they were published.

     A reoccurring theme in Tell is the obscurity and anonymity of many person's lives. This is particularly true of those who die young. As an antidote to this anonymity Lucy Barton, a main character in many of Strout's books, and elderly Olive Kitteridge, the character in the book for which Strout received the Pulitzer, meet to share stories of otherwise forgotten people. Thus, the book's title, Tell Me Everything.

     The book is charged with wit and wisdom about life and the meaning of life. Strout's weaving of themes, characters and circumstances sustain attention. This is a book in which good things sometimes  happen to the characters to whom the reader is attached. Strout obviously likes the characters with which she peoples her writings. Illustrations of grace abound.

Takk for alt,

Al

On this day, December 15, Ed and I graduated from Marine Corps Bootcamp, sixty-five years ago. Graduation is a big deal in the Corps. We'd shared life in a Quonset Hut and membership in the same platoon. Given mandatory leave by the Marines, Ed and I headed home. In 1959 airplane travel was not ubiquitous so we shared a twenty four hour bus ride from San Diego to Omaha, where Ed headed east and I north.  Our farm backgrounds gave us much to share. After we finished our leave we were assigned to the same unit so we were together until I finished my enlistment. 

                            Ed and I in a hotel in Tokyo, 1961.

So today...

     Taking what Kaia taught me yesterday, today I hunted the grass. There were birds in it all of which I witnessed from a distance. Usually by December there would be enough snow in the grass that the pheasants would have left for the warmer cover of cattails. With the light snow cover there is protection from the wind in the bluestem grass. Cattails are prime winter habitat because even with significant snowfall there large pockets near the ground in which birds can escape the wind and move about. Normally that's where they'd be in December.

   It was nice walk, good exercise rewarded by the sight of several roosters. It's all good and I'm grateful for the opportunity. 

Takk for alt,

Al

      The big bluestem which is providing habitat for pheasants, deer and other critters. 

Trust your dog!

         On today's hunt I was walking between heavy cattails on my left and tall big bluestem grass on my right. Kaia was most interested in the grass. Thinking the pheasants would be in the cattails I kept sending her there. She'd dutifully make a foray into the cattails but soon run into the grass again. That's where she flushed a number of pheasants. With my attention focused on the cattails I was slow in seeing the roosters. By the time I saw them they were speeding with the wind and consequently none came home with us. 

    Long time hunters who use dogs are schooled to always pay attention to the dog. With their fantastic sense of smell, one estimate is 6 million times better than humans, they are to be trusted. Paying attention to her is a lesson which I relearned today.😀

Takk for alt,

Al

 This picture of Thessalonica was taken from our dinner table, and it is one of my favorite Greek cities. 

One!

    One of you two readers missed my blog last night and responded. Too much to hope for that you'd both check in. 😉  My bad and I'll try not to let it happen again.

    Wow! Windless, what a concept here on the prairie where the wind seems always to blow. Dressed properly single digit temperatures were no impediment to hunting minus wind. A rule of thumb is that if a hunter isn't cold when leaving the truck with the walking said hunter will soon be a ball of sweat. 

      No pheasants were injured in the outing due to the ineptness of the hunter. One might think he was a neophyte. But, never mind, they were viewed and hunter and dog had a nice bit of exercise. This was followed by lunch of comfort food in Nunda. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, vegetable, dinner roll and desert now cost $9.50!

Takk for alt,

Al

Many of the random pictures have been from Asia so here's one from Europe, sunset from the Greek Island of Santorini.

Apologies

      My apologies to you both for not posting yesterday. Last night I live streamed a basketball game planning to post afterwards but it slipped my mind. Imagine that! A skiff of snow and bright sun dogs were fodder for writing, too.  Sorry!

Takk for alt,

Al

There's always that!

          A long time friend heard through the grapevine that I was "at the farm."  Via email she wondered what there was to do at the farm in December. "Pheasant hunting" was my reply. After a brief hunt today, during which no pheasants were threatened, a cluster of cedar trees were observed growing in the grassland. 

        Both of my regular readers know that I have a long time struggle to protect the purity of the grass. Volunteer cedar trees colonizing grass fields soon corrupt the land so that it is neither grass nor woods. Putting the gun away I took the brush clippers from the truck and spent more time cutting cedars than I had hunting. So there's always that!

       In the area of the cedars there are also some rocks showing their tops above the ground. Making a mental note of their location, someday I'll return and remove them. If the ground freezes before I get to them they'll be there in the spring as they have been for 10,000 years since the glacier retreated. So there's always that, too. 

Takk for alt,

Al

Today's random picture is of the Seattle Space Needle, of which I took a picture in 1962, while Ed and I were World's Fair.

Weather wimp!

       Sometime in the past harsh weather would never stop me from hunting. Blizzards, blowing snow, gale force winds, "who cares?" and I'd be out hunting. Things have changed. One factor of course is the plentitude of leisure time now. There's always tomorrow, which was not true in the past. 

     Today's 20+ m.p.h. wind with gusts to 39, and I decided "there's always tomorrow". In a recent conversation with my long time golfing partner we were reminiscing about sitting in the clubhouse waiting for the frost to melt from the greens. We were compulsive golfers and, I was a compulsive hunter. But, no more, staying  cozy in the house with a good book is just fine.  

Takk for alt,

Al

This random picture is for MW whose late husband lived in Baguio as a child.  Picture from 1962.

Engaged

      The book that I'd left behind at The Little House immediately engaged me. It's fun to have one like that so that the pages keep turning. When I wasn't able to live stream the game, Gopher Women's BB, this afternoon, it's nice to have a good book.

    A bit of OFH humor. Socializing with friends in the OFH Friday, one friend reported what he saw in the storage area. Inmates have storage closets in a room off the basement garage. The closets are enclosed with woven wire so it's easy to see what others have stored. He reported seeing that someone had a long handled snow shovel in their locker, the kind for pushing snow. Just couldn't part with it? 😀

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Do either of you like my random pictures?

                                       Pretty much every day!

The Little House

      Today Kai and I repaired to The Little House for awhile. It must have been about three weeks we were in the OFH. It was a good stay and now for some last weeks here as the year winds down. Leaving St. Paul at 8:00 on a Saturday worked well with hardly a slowdown. Then I hit Brookings an hour before a SDSU football game and encountered minor gridlock. Kaia seems happy to be back at The Little House. She's a very good OFH dog, not reacting to other dogs and only goes to persons who invite her.

Takk for alt,

Al

             The road to Baguio, a resort city in the Philippine Islands 

WOW! WOW! WOW!

     Minneapolis Sanford Middle School staged Into The Woods Jr., in cooperation with Project Success The cast of 85 did a marvelous job. It looked flawless from where I sat. My attendance was prompted by my granddaughter's participation. Sandford's huge auditorium, maximum seating 920, was almost full. Participants have been getting home from rehearsals at 7:00.An evening well spent.

Takk for alt,

Al

Shelf Mystery?

      Finishing the Lavansdatter trilogy it was time for another book. The one I'd like to have started is in The Little House. There's only a small bookcase in the apartment in the OFH. That's deliberate to facilitate finding new homes for books I've read. Pursuing that small bookcase one caught my eye. "Where did that come from?" The only clue in the book was a scrap of paper used as a bookmark, with one word on it "hours" in Joanne's handwriting. It's not the type of book I'd associate with her.

    Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life, Dani Shapiro, is a guide for authors. Shapiro has published numerous books; novels and memoirs. She has taught creative writing in many different places. The book is full of wisdom for serious writers. When she writes about her personal life I found it most interesting. Though she's published much this is my first exposure to her work.

   Have either of you read any of books or articles?

Takk for alt,

Al

The tanker in the middle is refueling both the aircraft carrier from which the picture is taken and the ship on the left. The fueling hose to the aircraft carrier is visible.

Connecting The Dots, IV

       After my discharge in  June,1962 I re-enrolled at Augustana College in the fall. That was also the time that Joanne began her work as Director Of Student Activities, Instructor In Psychology and Head Resident of East Hall. Though we were on campus together for a school year we did not meet. Mutual friends wanted to introduce us but never accomplished the meeting. Naturally I knew who she was becasue of her roles on campus.

     During the summer of 1963 I was enrolled in a course in Greek in preparation for seminary. Entering the cafeteria for lunch one day, Joanne, accompanied by two of my aunts and uncles, was just ahead of me in the line. Joanne grew up near my aunt Agnes and Uncle Herald in the St. Anthony Falls area of St. Paul, MN. Consequently they were friends and Agnes introduced Joanne to me. That day I joined them for lunch.

   A few days later Joanne and I were in the cafeteria line together and shared a table for lunch, The College and Career Club at First Lutheran, of which I was a part, was planning a trip to Holden Village, the retreat center in the Cascade Mountains. This was the first summer Holden was open to the public and almost no one had heard of it, but Joanne knew all about it. Carroll Hinderlie, the director of Holden, was a friend of Joanne's family. This gave us a significant connection.

   Shortly after that lunch, Doris, withdrew from the trip to Holden to prepare for her wedding. When I called Joanne and asked if she wanted to go in Doris place, she ditched her vacation plans with Jenine and Maren and came with us. It was on that trip to Holden in September that our 'relationship' began. 

   Connect all those dots if you will! 😀 

Takk for alt,

Al 

                   The College and Career Club that travelled to Holden Village; September 1963.

Connecting The Dots, III

      Last night over dinner there was opportunity to tell friends that they are part of the gift that came from my early college failure, It's an illustration of author Jon Fosse's light shining out of darkness, It's fascinating to reflect, i.e., connect the dots, from the perspective of  age. 

    When one begins to look for the light in darkness it can be found in many places. Sometimes it's expressed in different language. An example is in the book I'm reading where it's said like this "the blessing is next to the wound." The author suggests it's a familiar saying but it is new to me. Light out of darkness, blessings out of failure, the blessing is next to the wound...and connecting these dots is done in retrospect.

Takk for alt,

Al

                       We're pictured with my parents on the day I graduated from college.

Connecting The Dots, Part II

     Both readers of this blog are aware that I've posted several times about Norwegian author, Jon Fosse. Last year he received the Nobel for his work, not least of which was Septology. This work I've red twice. The Shining is one of his most recent works and Trilogy was given to me for my birthday, and I've read both.

   The theme that appears, and re-appears, in his work is that the light comes out of darkness. Asle, the main character in Septology is a picture painter. He repeatedly reflects on the need for black in the paintings because it's out of darkness that the light shines. 

   Jon Fosse would likely appreciate yesterday's blog where it was pointed out that my early college failures led to 'the light of meeting Joanne. Life can only be understood in the rearview mirror, i.e., only in retrospect can we connect the dots. What felt to me as darkness, as I thrashed about in those early years post high school, placed me in proximity to Joanne. Then, success was achieved in establishing a relationship with her...true light!

Takk for alt,

Al

My family gathered for my graduation from Augustana. It was a busy week, graduation on Sunday and wedding on Saturday.

Connecting The Dots!

     The book I'm currently reading is partially a memoir. Thinking about her past the author says "one can only connect the dots in retrospect." Isn't that so true? What seemed at the time as random confusion in early life for me led to beautiful outcomes. Let me explain.

   As mentioned in previous blogs, my first attempt at college was not very successful. Pre-college education for me was not adequate. At age seventeen, when I entered collage, I was not very mature. No solid vocational idea propelled me. So, for five quarters I floundered. In the sixth quarter I took a leave to help my father on the farm after his heart attack.

   The first five quarters were at South Dakota State College (now University) Brookings. Following that stint at farming I was admitted to Augustan College (now University), Sioux Falls. Admission was possible becasue the Admissions Directory was from Sinai and he went to bat for me. In one semester at Agustana I did well academically, now with greater maturity. Yet, I lacked vocational direction so, to bide time, I enlisted for three years in the Marines.

   When my enlistment was complete it was simple to re-enroll at Agustana based on my previous semester's success. Vocationally, I was headed toward ordained ministry and, after 39 years of ministry I retired. But, what of the beautiful outcomes?

   Joanne was the first Director Of Student Activities at Augustan beginning at the same time I re-enrolled after discharge. Though we were on campus together for a year we did not meet until I was introduced to her, by my aunt, at the beginning of our second year. The rest is history!😁 Had my first attempt at college been successful we'd never have met. Praise God for failure! Now, isn't that a 'beautiful outcome?'

   There were many other gifts that came from the poor college start. Enlisting in the Marines brought me to Boot Camp simultaneous with Ed. We were assigned to the same platoon. Riding the bus together after Boot Camp to Omaha we discovered how much these two farm boys, one from Iowa the other South Dakota, had in common. For three years we shared an office, which Ed arranged, bunked together and travelled Asia. Accepting a call to Davenport, IA, in 1980 put us within 25 miles of Ed's farm. That proximity furthered our relationship and allowed Joanne and Ed's wife, MaryJane, to become fast friends.  

   Living through those early years was filled with frustration and feelings of failure. Now, when I connect the dots, I see beautiful outcomes, even others, too, besides those I named.

Takk for alt,

Al

Joanne and I on the day I graduated from Agustana. She's in her academic robe because she was on the faculty.