I’d rather take a beating than move!

Ever wonder what life is like when you suddenly have to prepare to move out of your house in less than a month because there’s a buyer who has agreed to pay your asking price and has essentially sold her home in a very short amount of time and will be needing to move in much sooner than expected? Believe me, it’s a good feeling, yet, at the same time, it’s still stressful and not as welcomed as it would have been back a few years ago.

My comfortable, retired-way-of-life has suddenly been shaken up and tossed this way and that, and I’m not dealing with it very well. Although I’m all for vacating and moving on, I’m kind of in a dilemma since this is a red-hot, for-sure buyer who knows our place very well and loves everything about it. However, I’m mentally not ready for this because there’s so much “stuff” that needs packed and sorted out, but the fact that there’s a “hot” buyer kind of closes the deal. Because we’re not guaranteed that another buyer will readily be available if we don’t act now, we’re pretty much sure that we’ll be moving out within the next few weeks. Because where we live is not exactly in the hot bed of real estate action, it is our belief that we have to take the first one that comes along– strike while the iron is hot, in other words;

Yes, my wife and I have talked about moving from our home here in the very small town near DeKalb, Illinois, where we have lived since my retirement in June of 2007. This current desire to move all came about when our son and his wife and two sons—our grandsons—moved from a nearby town 11 miles from us, to another one almost 30 miles away. Since being closer to them was the reason we moved out here in the first place upon my retirement, our lovely home is no longer quite the same special retirement residence we had planned on.

True, there’s still yardwork, mowing, snow throwing, and other general maintenance that needs our constant attention. But, quite frankly, I no longer have the desire to attend to most of those happy home owner duties! I guess at my age, I’m very content to sit back and observe someone else driving the lawn tractor or clearing the  driveways and walkways with the trusty snow thrower.

The interesting thing about all of this is that we have no specific place where we want to end up—just as long as it’s within a much shorter driving distance to our kids! Of course, it will mean moving right back closer to the suburbs of Chicago—where we packed up and moved from in 2007—but I’m slowly adjusting to that eventuality. 

I’m not toally sold on this whole idea of moving. A wise man once told me that he’d “rather take a beating than have to move,” and I am in full agreement with him on that because I don’t even want to think about all that lies ahead in the process of getting out of here and into storage and, somewhere, on our next stage of this adventure! So it goes. For now, Stay tuned…

Halloween snowstorm and a delayed harvest…

Not often do we find ourselves looking out into a blowing, white snowstorm on Halloween morning. Well, that’s exactly what has presented itself today here in northern Illinois. Of course, the possibility of accumulating snow has been in the forecast all week, and, sure enough, it was spot on! It will be interesting to see just how many little ghosts, goblins, and other ghoulish creatures come knocking on our door later today with determined attempts at garnering candy.

As I write this late in the morning, looking out my workroom window to the east, the snow is swirling and buffeting around the tall trees and the tall golden corn in the field beyond. That golden corn crop should have been cut already, but the weather has been an uncooperative force all along. When farmers are still struggling to get a harvest started—let alone completed—this little weather quirk will be one more fly in the ointment.

It has certainly been rough for them all the way through this year. From the beginning, being able to get into the fields in early spring was near impossible for many weeks, due to the massive amount of wet weather we had here in northern Illinois. Next, there was quite a number of storm damage done in the summer months, causing many crops to be lost. Now, when harvest time should be in full swing, there’s this day of snow, as though conjured up by the Halloween spirits to further test the patience and mettle of those dependent upon a successful harvest.

We’re definitely living in strange times, and one need not look any further than out my workroom window on this Halloween day, 2019, to begin to believe it!

Let the trick-or-treaters bundle up warmly and tread carefully through the white stuff later today, as they go about the business of gathering the goodies that await them. And best wishes to the farmers as they try to make the best of this continuing pattern of misfortune.

Happy birthday to me…

I’ve been away from this blog for far too long, and what better time to jump back into posting some poignant and cogent thoughts than on my birthday? Yep, I’ve reached another milestone in this life, and it’s a terrific day outside to add to the occasion. At this writing, a few minutes past 10:00 A.M. Central Time, it’s sunny, clear, and 73° with a most delightful breeze. To say the least, it was perfect for my early-morning coffee on the deck, one of the few times I’ve been able to do so this “spring” with all of the chilly and rainy weather that’s been the rule rather than the exception here in northern Illinois.

The farmers have been desperate to find a “window” to be able to get their fields prepared and planted in time for a fall harvest. Usually by this time each year, corn and soy beans are sprouting up from the good, rich soil. It is doubtful if the field directly behind us will even be planted this year. It has become pretty much an overgrown wasteland. With the warmer dry weather lately, I look out each day to see if any tractors are getting going to break it up and get it planted. Alas, nothing yet!

Weather issues aside, we have spent several weekends “out and about,” mostly for family events: High school graduations in Omaha and West Lafayette; a three-day visit to see my mother in Ohio. 

In early May, I set out one Saturday and took part in the Illinois Route 66 Association’s Red Carpet Corridor event between Joliet and the central Illinois town of Towanda. The gorgeous day provided a wonderful backdrop for driving from town to town along the famous old Mother Road. The day brought back many memories of 2017 when we drove the whole route—Chicago to Santa Monica Pier in California.

And, of course, there have been the grandsons’ baseball games to attend, and the annual NASCAR weekend over in Brooklyn, Michigan. Again, it was a fun time, with the exception of having the big race rained out on Sunday. As always, that’s the chance one takes. Seems as though we’re hitting more rain issues every year. Mother Nature enjoys playing spoiler with us.

With summer about to bloom again, it’s time for me to get a move on and finish my writing projects that have lain dormant for too long. It’s time to continue my water exercise program I began in May at the YMCA three days a week. It’s time to go for walks and find those smiles once again. It’s time to bring this blog back to its original intent when I launched it a few years ago. It’s time to make this birthday one of re-emphasizing that life is good.

Happy birthday to me!

The birds, a squirrel, and a “writing day”…

Spring has “officially” entered the picture—finally! Yep, the robins have showed up again, and I’ve witnessed them busily pecking away for worms in yards and lots all over the area the last few days.

I’ve even restored the bird feeder way out back and filled it with sunflower seeds, hoping to attract cardinals and other lovely members of the avian ilk. But of course it’s the big, squawking black birds that seem to monopolize the feeder throughout the day. Regardless, I have spotted the male cardinal and his mate, from time to time, able to grab a quick bite when the other glutinous birds aren’t around. Another “guest” in our backyard is a gray squirrel, whose thick, fuzzy winter coat makes him appear as a bouncing ball when he scoots from tree to ground under the bird feeder and then back up another tree nearby.

It was a very rough winter around these parts. Lots of snow in January and on into February, punctuated with days of intense winds and wind chill warnings. I can’t recall a winter when I chose to remain inside for most of the day as I did these past couple of months. The accumulation of snow and ice prevented any “getting around” the yard. I did, however, put the snow thrower to good use in keeping the driveway clear.

Now, looking out  my writing room window, over the snowless back yard and the farm fields to the east, it gives me a good feeling that we’ve turned the corner and soon the grass will be green again; the trees will be budding, ready to shoot forth their leafy beauty.

Sometime, after the fields are dry enough, the farmer will begin another growing cycle—this year it will be corn—and I’ll get to watch the seeds grow into green sprouts and then into healthy stalks and then a golden harvest in October.

The last few days have been sun filled with temperatures in the 40s. Not quite warm enough to grab the chair and sit out on the deck or the driveway to bask in the goodness that spring is, but it’s getting closer. Oh, how I anticipate being able to dress for the day in shorts and t-shirt!

 Today, a gray, chilly, and wet one, is my “writing day.” The ear buds are in, as I listen to Cinemix on Internet Radio while I write away, attempting to catch up after another stretch of time where I’ve failed to dazzle the keyboard with my magic. The novel, needing much work, awaits, and I probably should take advantage of this “writing day” to seriously get to it.

On another tack...

I recently finished reading a novel I’ve intended to get to for quite some time: Bernard Malamud’s The Natural. Most people are familiar with the 1984 movie by the same title, starring Robert Redford. I had frequently heard that Malamud’s award winning novel, published in 1952, takes a very drastic turn from what is portrayed in the movie. Without giving things away, I’ll simply say that main character, Roy Hobbs, is a very flawed human being. 

For those baseball fans who thrilled to the heroic tale that was the movie version of The Natural, it might be of interest to check out and read the true tale of The Natural by Bernard Malamud.

Well, I see that the black birds are at the feeder once again, and the gray squirrel has put in an appearance, awaiting any “freebies” the birds manage to drop from their buffet above. A couple of robins are hopping around, in search of the mysterious worm, concealed somewhere beneath.

Ah, spring has come to life once more in our back yard!

Wintry, Sunday thoughts…

More White Stuff…

100_3643.jpegWoke up to another day of snow this morning, as this winter just keeps rolling right along. We can get out if we need—or want—to, so it’s not as though we’re “snowed in.” Today, however, it will just be easier to stay in and not have to navigate the streets and roads in and out of our small town. Living out here in northern Illinois, surrounded by open fields, we get a lot of blowing and drifting. Thus, the roads are often more treacherous than those closer to cities and larger towns and villages.

I don’t have a problem with any of this, by the way. It’s OK to be tucked inside today. After all, I have many long-neglected writing “chores” to attend to, and there’s really no place we have to be today anyway. So I’ll launch Scrivener, knock the cobwebs off my work in progress, and spend a few hours seeing if I can make some headway on the revision/rewrite of a story that just continues to hang on and beg to be finished–for better or worse!

Recently, I have read a couple of very good blog posts by blogging friends that have rekindled my desire to “hit the keyboard” again. There’s nothing quite as nice as reading how others cope with getting their writing jump-started. A special word of thanks goes out to Francis Guenette at her wonderful blog Disappearing in Plain Sight for her inspirational posts.

After spending time writing away the morning and into the afternoon hours, and after this current snowfall abates, I’ll go out and see about clearing the driveway and sidewalk. The current temperature of 25°F isn’t so bad, and the wind is minimal. The fresh air will be good. For now, though, let it snow, and let my fingers find the right words on the keyboard!

A Great Read…

On another topic altogether, I’ve been reading—and enjoying—Bob Drury and Tom Clavin’s book, Valley Forge. I suppose, given our current weather, it’s quite easy to “get into” the overall tone and point of the book about that miserable winter of 1777 George Washington’s Continental Army spent there. But it would be truly unfair to compare anything of what we have to “endure” today with what these people suffered through during our Revolutionary War. Under supplied with food, clothing, ammunition, and shelter, they still managed to hang on and do what was necessary to achieve what they were fighting for–our independence.

The book is very good at illustrating how critically close to the brink of extinction Washington and the whole of the revolutionary forces were. As students and readers of history, we often gloss over the entire picture of the struggles and perils the Continental Army went through. Read this book to re-connect with the overall truth of that moment in our history. And even though I’m warm and snug as I read it now, it doesn’t hurt to have it cold and snowy outside—as a sort of tribute to those hardy souls who persevered–starved and half naked–at Valley Forge.

What’s Ahead…

Other than our seemingly daily battle with the on again-off again snow, we’re at a pretty calm period of the year. It doesn’t look as though an annual late-February trip to Florida is in the offing this year.

I guess I can live with this, given that we had a marvelous January cruise to and thru the

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Enjoying the sunshine on the Lido Deck in January

Panama Canal. The memory of those glorious warm days of shorts, short sleeve shirts, and sandals will have to suffice until spring arrives around here in late March/early-April. I had hoped to take in a spring training game or two this winter down there in the Florida sunshine, but I’ll have to plan for that next year.

Time spent right around the old homestead is never a bad thing, and that’s where I’ll be. Happy rest-of-winter to everyone. Until next time, stay warm, all!

 

 

Catching up and some “Super Sunday” thoughts…

OK. It’s been way too long since I actually sat down with the sole purpose to write something to post on Down Many Roads—my long-standing blog about various topics of which I’m interested. And I’ve frittered away so many opportunities to do that very thing during the past several weeks and months. Reading, rather than writing, has still been my “go to” activity when I’m up before dawn most mornings, and I feel rather guilty about that—but not that guilty! Recently, I have enjoyed reading the following books: Beneath a Scarlet Sky, by Mark Sullivan; The Russia Hoax, by Greg Jarrett; The Saga of the Pony Express, by Joseph J. Di Certo;

Since I last posted regarding our wonderful adventure on the Oregon Trail with our grandsons, I have been busy with a few road trips to Ohio to see Mom and my older sister and husband. Mom turned 90 last month and is doing remarkably well. We had just returned from an 18-day Panama Canal cruise, and our intention was to make the six hour drive to northern Ohio to celebrate her birthday on the actual day—January 22. But a nagging viral infection entered the scene, as did the return of the Polar Vortex, preventing me from making the trip to the shores of Lake Erie.

About that same time, we had been inundated with continuous snowfalls, accumulations mounting daily. As such, I’m planning a trip out in a couple of weeks, hoping that this sudden thaw and this stretch of very pleasant weather will hold on for a while. Fingers crossed.

Our aforementioned cruise began on January 2, when we flew out of O’Hare to San Diego. From start to finish, the whole trip was wonderful, particularly the warm and comfortable weather all the way along, where we ended up in Fort Lauderdale and flew home from there. I will be writing about the highlights of this adventure in future posts.

Watching the Super Bowl yesterday left me in a total state of “the blahs.” Not only was the game a complete flop, the commercials—usually the highlight of Super Sunday—were non existent. There is definitely something going on in our world and society that has changed things that are supposed to be fun into anything but. Too much preachy content that caters to a generation I find difficult to comprehend much of the time. The outcome was not really surprising, and I’m not a Patriots football fan. However, I do admire their achievements and their adherence to off-the-field obligations. Enjoy your White House visit, Patriots!

Now, it’s time to focus on getting through February. Good to be back and writing! See you sooner than later…

Trail’s end…

Writing now from northern Illinois, and looking back to our wonderful mid-July trip out on a stretch of the Oregon Trail in Wyoming, I still smile at the many moments and memories forged in that three-day adventure.

Our final day dawned as crystal clear and bright as the previous two had. And this IMG_0022.jpegmorning’s breakfast didn’t disappoint, either. We weren’t sure how far we would travel on this last day, but we would find out that some beautiful, open country lay ahead. Morris told us that our part of the trip would be finished by lunch time.

Leaving camp, we headed out once more and followed the rugged trail through private land and that of the Bureau of Land Management. We encountered more Mormons making their summer handcart journey. Everyone was friendly and eager to stop and watch as our horse drawn covered wagon rolled along nearby.

IMG_4485.jpegGrandson Jack once again spent most of the morning riding Taz, and brother Matt was invited to ride up on the driver’s seat with Morris. After a time, Morris turned the reins over to Matt, IMG_0052.jpegwho drove us over more original ruts of the Oregon Trail.

Before we realized it, the morning had run on toward lunch time, and as we arrived at another of the many fence gates, Morris announced that our part of the trip was finished.

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It was one final lunch out in the great wide open, breathing in the terrific air and basking in the glorious high plains sunshine. Then, it was time to load our trail backpacks and various other things we’d had along with us into the pickup that would haul us back to the remote spot where our car was parked.IMG_0101.jpeg

And it was as simple as that! It seemed that no sooner had our adventure begun, that it had just as quickly come to an end. Fond farewells to Morris and our other traveling companions occurred and then we climbed into the pickup that Randy would drive to get us to the cars.

It felt good to unload and put our belongings into our car. We pointed the car back toward Casper, where we would be spending the night before heading out the next morning to Devils Tower, Crazy Horse, and Mount Rushmore.

With a sense of accomplishment, we all relaxed and smiled at the notion that we’d be showering and putting on clean clothes for the first time all week!IMG_0161.jpeg