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!

Wintry, Sunday thoughts…

More White Stuff…

Woke 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

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!

 

 

Starting my day with a cardinal’s song…

What a difference a week makes!

Last weekend, I made a quick trip out to Ohio where we were “treated” to five inches of snow late Friday night, creating a winter wonderland. Ordinarily, that’s something I enjoy—just not on April 8^th!

Last Saturday morning in Marblehead, Ohio

And although we didn’t have any snow here at home in northern Illinois, it was annoyingly cold to begin this week. However, a gradual warming trend has crept in, and it’s actually beginning to show promise that things might be good for the foreseeable future.

It is even rumored that it might warm up to the high 60s (F) on Saturday. I say “rumored” because I don’t often put much credence in some of the weather folks’ predictions. As always, we shall see.

Because of this weather turnaround the past couple of days, I’ve been able to continue with my “de-winterizing” of things outside:  Removing the protective screening from around most of our bushes and hauling all of the deck furniture and tables and plant stands up from the basement yesterday. (Love those stairs!)

The deck open for business!

I still need to get the hose and reel and patio furniture out from beneath the deck where they’ve hibernated since last fall. Those duties are on my “To Do” list for today, which is an even more delightful day than yesterday was. (I guess I shouldn’t be so quick to judge those weather people!)

Another sign that maybe the winter blahs have fled is how much lighter it is in the morning when I get up—usually between 5:30 and 6:00. Nothing like watching the sunrise while I brew that morning coffee and read whatever it is I’m reading at the moment. (American Gospel by Jon Meacham)

I’ve even resumed my morning walking regimen, striking out the past few days in brilliant sunshine for my twenty minutes of brisk enjoyment of the neighborhoods around here.

The green, green grass out back!

This morning as I set out, I was greeted by a very happy and loud cardinal, singing and calling out to one and all from his perch atop our neighbor’s tree that he, too, was glad that things have turned around to the more pleasant side of life.

When I returned feeling wonderful and ready for the day, I took my coffee out to the deck and savored the sights and sounds and smells all about.

First coffee on the deck this spring

 

Home for another robin’s nest?

 

The grass I mowed yesterday is even greener this morning!

There’s a robin snooping about and investigating the big evergreen for a nest, I’m sure.

The morning air is still cool, and a fleece jacket or sweatshirt is in order, but there’s just something now that seems to be pointing to the warm days not too far off.

As the morning turns to afternoon, there is no need for the jacket, and I’m even “inspired” to complete those remaining “de-winterizing” jobs out there. I’ll even find time to sit in the sun, on the deck, and listen to that cardinal’s happy song. Can’t wait to hear what he has to say tomorrow morning as well.

 

Is spring on the way, or are the robins confused?

OK, I’m not complaining, so please don’t read this wrong. But…

Around these parts, one of the first signs of spring is the appearance of robins—those happy-go-lucky, red-breasted winged friends who seem to arrive out of nowhere.

Without a doubt, we can always rely on them showing up around mid-March, and it’s always a special moment when we call out: “Hey, there’s a robin in the neighbor’s back yard!”

“Hey, everyone. It’s spring! Or is it?”

Well, last week (January 27^th to be exact!), as I was grinding away on my MacBook and happened to glance out through my “window to the world,” I spotted one of those happy-go-lucky, red-breasted winged friends bouncing about in the back yard, carrying on as though the calendar was much farther along then it really was.

I sensed that the perky, little robin wanted to be seen, and I could almost hear her shouting: “Hello, everyone. It’s springtime!”

It was a delightful feeling seeing that bird, and one which made me feel good about the direction our winter was taking.

True, this winter has been a far cry from winters past—particularly last year’s—and the fact that I’ve only used our snow thrower two times is testament to that fact. Again, not complaining!

Not surprisingly, soon after the first robin showed, there was what appeared to be an invasion of her friends, immediate family, relatives, and various other hangers-on of the robin clan.

Our yard seemed to be cluttered with them as they bounced around in search of snacks and treats in the grass no longer covered with winter’s blanket.

After awhile this battalion of birds moved from the back yard and maneuvered around to the side lot where I snapped a couple of photos of this earlier-than-usual showing.

Later that afternoon, while I was busily stoking the Weber charcoal grill on our driveway, I could see that the gang of robins was still in the vicinity, but that they had moved across the street to the large empty lot. Again, I snapped a photo from my driveway, and one must look carefully to recognize them as robins. If nothing else, take my word for it.

Funny thing is, I haven’t seen them since that day. Our weather has been unseasonably pleasant and very March-like, so one would think that the happy creatures would have stuck around and continued whatever it is they do to herald the onset of spring—even though that’s still quite a ways off!

Perhaps one bird in this merry contingent checked the calendar and had an “oops moment” and delivered the news to the leader, causing the embarrassed congregation of happy-go-lucky, red-breasted winged friends to slink away, realizing that they’d jumped the gun just a bit.

Whatever the reasons: Why they arrived when they did and Why they didn’t stick around, the wonders of nature never cease to amaze me! Something was definitely at work in the universe of the robins, telling them it was time to pop in to northern Illinois.

Maybe they were just checking things out, making sure everything was in order for their real arrival in several weeks from now. Whatever their reasons, we’ll be looking for them once again and will welcome them back to stay a lot longer!

Not complaining…

Catching up: Busy days and friendship through the years….

 

It’s been a few weeks—nearly a month—since my last post, and I must confess that I really have no good reason to have avoided writing something in that span of time. Suffice it to say, however, that it has been a busy month with appointments, grandsons’ basketball games, getting the Thanksgiving together and the Christmas lights up and working. (Still can’t figure out those light timers!)

A splendid sunrise over the first snowstorm in late November

On top of that, we’ve had weather to contend with. About a week ago, we were hit by one of those early snowfalls that dumped nearly a half a foot of snow in most of northern Illinois.

Of course it would come in at the exact moment that my son and I were setting out for a five-hour drive to southern Illinois for our annual pheasant hunt with my good friend and his son.

Driving was slow-going for the first few hours, but the farther south we got, the snow dwindled, replaced by rain. By the time we got to my friend’s house, it was just cold, damp, and clear of any snow. We had a great couple of days there (we always do!) and the return trip home wasn’t bad at all.

About that friend…

Steve and I became long-lasting friends a long time ago, in late-summer 1973, when we both happened to be walking in the door of a small, rural school in south central Illinois at the same time, to begin our first days of teaching careers. Although we had never met before, there seemed to be a sort of instant bonding, since we were both in the same boat and were strangers in new and unfamiliar territory.

Steve was from way down in southern Illinois, a product of Southern Illinois University; I was from the western suburbs of Chicago and a recent graduate of Kent State out in Ohio. To say that it was good to meet someone in the same situation as I right off the bat, would be an understatement. And from that first “walking-in-the-door” meet up, we both tended to do things together, as we wound our way through those first hours, days, weeks, and months as teachers and coaches.

I soon discovered that Steve was an avid hunter and fisherman, two things I had never really done much of, other than a few forays out into the woods with my dad when I was too young to tote a gun. But I was soon invited to join Steve and a few other teachers for opening day of dove season.

That experience is one of those that gets etched in one’s memory! The recently harvested corn fields were drenched in golden sunshine, and the friendly chat among our little group did something that erased all the doubt I’d had about taking a job so far from familiar things. Perhaps for the first time, I really felt included (although I wasn’t a very good shot!), and the day turned out to be much, much more than killing birds. To this day, I cherish that late-afternoon we tramped through those shorn fields, waiting for the doves to come in, getting to know those other guys, and sharing things about my life with them.

My friend Steve

Being single, Steve and I were pretty free to march to our own drummers. He and I would hunt and fish many times in the years that followed, and summers would find us playing fast pitch softball for a country tavern out in the boonies.

When I finally got married a couple of years later, things obviously changed–except for the friendship! That has remained. When an opportunity to move north came about a couple of years after I married, Carolyn and I took a chance on it, especially since she was from there. Although I spent most of my career there as a result, I really never forgot my beginnings down there in the small town or that very first dove hunt.

Since then, every November’s been a regular routine to travel on down for a day of pheasant hunting with my good friend Steve. We sometimes kid each other about what would have happened had we not been nervously walking into the school, at the same time, all those years ago. I suppose it was just one of those timely strokes of good fortune that we did.

Election Day, Town history, and the Lions…

This past Tuesday I had the opportunity to serve as a county election judge here in our tiny town out near DeKalb, Illinois. Beginning at 5:15 a.m., when we have to set up the voting booths and prepare the precinct tables and stations prior to poll opening at 6:00 a.m., it’s the start of an extremely long day, with plenty of “lulls in the action,” and it can wear one down as time seems to crawl at a snail’s pace all day, until the polls close at 7 p.m.

Our little burg is divided into three different precincts, which means that there are four election judges for each, so I did get to meet eleven other folks I’d not known before. Being relatively new to this particular area, having moved out here following my retirement in 2007, I’m still getting to know people and places and the history of the region. And because there is ample time for conversation and chit-chat through the long day, I found out a lot of answers to questions I’ve been mulling over for quite some time. For example, the trains that run through town (the tracks being a couple hundred yards from where I’m writing this) are not permitted to sound their horns, and I’ve wondered why and never really received a solid answer.

Not until the other day, that is, when one of the other elections judges, a native and longtime resident here, explained that it had to do with the town’s school being constantly interrupted by the blaring of train engine horns. The town and the Union Pacific had quite a battle before coming to an agreement that the horns would not be sounded if proper safety lane guards on the roads approaching the crossings were installed, preventing vehicles from skirting the gates in their down positions. It works, although there are occasions when some engineer forgets the ordinance and blows the engine’s horn!

Lions Clubs International (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Our voting location was in the town’s community center, home of the local Lions Club. I was somewhat taken aback when I overheard a few of the other election judges querying what exactly the Lions Club is. After they joked back and forth for a time that it was probably just another social club for the purpose of drinking, I cut in and explained to them that the Lions Club is one of a community’s greatest allies. To back up what I said, I pulled out my trusty iPhone and went to the Lions Club’s Web page and read the following to them:

“Our 46,000 clubs and 1.35 million members make us the world’s largest service club organization. We’re also one of the most effective. Our members do whatever is needed to help their local communities. Everywhere we work, we make friends. With children who need eyeglasses, with seniors who don’t have enough to eat and with people we may never meet.”

I didn’t really have to say more, and I rather enjoyed correcting their misconceptions about a wonderful and vital organization. I am not a member, but I know several people who are, and I appreciate all that they do. Thank you, Lions!