The Beast Is At the Door

Across the fence #219

I surrender. You can drag me out of the house, tar and feather me, and last but not least, stick my tongue to the pump handle. I deserve it.

I'll be the first to admit it. I spoke too soon. I wrote about the Beauty and the Beast, and how we should all look for the beauty in this beast we call winter.

It's been a real challenge finding any beauty during the past weeks. This winter has turned into a beast right out of Jurassic Park as my English teacher classmate, Ardy, in Iowa informed me. She also said, "Winter wonderland? I think you've lost your mind!" OK, I plead insanity for making those remarks about looking for the beauty in winter.

In my own defense, I should explain something here. From the time I write a story, send it to the papers a week in advance, and when it's finally published, is almost two weeks. A lot can change in two weeks.

On the Thursday that the Beauty and the Beast story hit the papers, our temperature reached 28 degrees below zero with a wind chill much lower. Later that day it warmed up to six below. It was hard to find any beauty in that. Friday morning was only 25 below zero and we got all the way up to one below that day. How cold was it? It was so cold I should have been wearing my fur-lined jock strap, but I don't know what box we packed it in. That's a story for another day! It was so cold even the Beast was knocking on our doors and windows wanting to come in where it was warm.

Here on Sherpe Road, high on the prairie, the wind really gets a running start. By the time it reaches us it has the pedal to the metal. We have huge piles of snow on both sides of our driveway that now act like snow fences, stopping the snow right between them... in our driveway.

Thank goodness for great neighbors. After we had a big snowfall one night, I was getting ready to start clearing the driveway with an old, used snow blower I bought at a neighbor's auction last fall. It's a big, heavy machine that can throw a lot of snow, but it still would have taken me an hour or more to clear a path through the three to four foot drifts. Then up the road came Wayne Fish with his skid steer. In ten minutes he had the whole driveway cleared. That's the type of neighbors I remember when I grew up on this farm. It's nice to know they are still around.

After snowing almost every day for the past six months (it feels like six months), the pile on each side of our driveway now acts like a snow magnet. Did I mention it gets very windy and drifts here on the prairie? One morning I had to leave early for La Crosse for a seminar and decided to wait until I returned in the evening to clear the snow. That was a mistake. I took a running start and almost made it, but got hung up at the end of the driveway. There was still plenty of ice under the snow that tires tend to spin on. It's been too darn cold for weeks for the salt to melt the ice. I should mention, that was the morning it was 28 below zero! I did a very fast shoveling job to get unstuck, cursing the winter, the ice, the snow, the bitter cold, and why the heck would any sane person want to live in the Land of the Beast in the first place. I finally got unstuck, but sure could have used that fur-lined jock strap again. I felt sorry for the people who had to work outside and battle the beast all day. Uff da.  

My troubles were minor compared to my brother, Arden. The water pipes froze up in the barn and it took several days before they could get the pipes thawed out. That meant the heifers couldn't get any water and it had to be hauled in. I imagine a lot of farmers had the same problem.

He stopped over the weekend as I was clearing the driveway... for the hundredth time. The banks are so high the snow blower can't throw it over the top. No matter what direction I go, the wind seems to blow the snow back in my face and covers me. I must have looked like a plump snowman with all the snow gear I was wearing. Arden took one look at me, smiled, and reminded me of my story about loving the beauty of winter.

I didn't bother trying to wipe the frozen snow off my glasses. I think my mustache had icicles hanging from it too. My words froze in midair and Arden had to take them home and thaw them out to see what my response was. I don't think we better print it in a family paper.

Suffice it to say, the Beast is definitely knocking at the door and it's hard to fight it. I've decided to surrender and not worry about clearing the driveway any more this winter. With any luck, it should all be melted by May... or sometime in June.

Darkness Needed To See the Light

Across the Fence #218

It has to get dark before you can see the beauty of the stars and the universe! Many evenings I look at the star-studded sky all around us here in the country and think how beautiful and magnificent it all is. All that beauty is up there during the day too, but we can't see it. It has to get dark first.

These thoughts went through my mind as I listened to the message of "light," delivered by Pastor Julie in her sermon this week.

I'm always listening for a word, a phrase, or a thought that becomes the genesis for a story. As Ben Logan once told me, "A writer is someone upon whom nothing is wasted. Even if someone is beating the hell out of you, a writer will take mental notes that may end up in a story one day." I know what he means.

As Pastor Julie said, these are dark times for many people in our community and country. She referred to the closing of NCR in Viroqua, where over 80 people and their families were affected when their jobs suddenly disappeared. This is devastating to those families. I think all of us could add names of people we know to the growing list of unemployed and underemployed. Things look mighty dark when you are struggling to pay your bills. The bitterly cold winter we find ourselves in, adds more stress to budgets that are already stretched to the breaking point. There isn't enough money for food, mortgages, and the necessities of life. Foreclosures are at a staggering number and growing.

The winter days are short and nights are long. Add the absence of sunlight to the burdens people are already carrying. When you put all that together, it's hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. On a positive note, we know the dark days of winter will eventually give way to the sunshine of summer.

I know many readers of Across the Fence are among those who find themselves facing a very dark future at the moment. All I can do is echo what Pastor Julie said and try to offer you some positive thoughts. Don't despair. The light will overcome the darkness.

I've found myself in dark valleys too and wondered how I would survive. Things looked bleak and I couldn't see any light at the end of the tunnel. Have faith that the stars will eventually shine out of that darkness.

To those who find themselves in better circumstances than your neighbor, reach out your hand, into the darkness, and pull another hand into the light. I wish I could take credit for that saying but it's attributed to Norman B. Rice.

My father said that twice during his life, when things looked dark and desperate, and he couldn't see any way out, help arrived in the darkest hour. In both cases he was asked to get off a farm he was renting because the heirs wanted someone else on it. It would be the same as the people who now find themselves suddenly out of a job because a business closed. Where do you turn when you have a family to feed? The first time an older woman walked down from Westby and wanted him to rent her farm. Several years later she died, and he was asked to leave. A man came and gave him a chance to buy his farm, with a one dollar down payment and a handshake to seal the deal. Neither of them offered him a free handout. He was too proud to have accepted that. But they were extending a hand into the darkness and helping someone find their way out of the darkness and into the light again. In later years he referred to those two people as guardian angels.

I've studied much of Joseph Campbell's writings and thoughts. I think he said it best. "The black moment is the moment when the real transformation is going to come. At the darkest moment comes the light."

It's my hope that every one of you who now find yourself facing what appears to be a dark future, will have a hand reach in and help show you a way to see the light again. Call it guardian angels if you want, or just plain luck. I don't look at angels as some heavenly hosts with wings and halos. I see them as extraordinary people, living among us, who are there when we need help. How they are sent to us is up to each of you to interpret, depending on your beliefs?

They show up with just the right encouraging words when we need it. They are there to lend a helping hand when our load gets too heavy to carry by ourselves. They can be our friends, neighbors, acquaintances, or even strangers. We all know people who would give you the shirt off their back if you needed one. I've told people that we come into this world naked, and the majority of us will leave this world dressed in some of our finest clothes. So we all leave with more than we came with.

Most of us will also experience some dark days while we're here. During those dark times, look for the stars. It takes darkness before you can see and appreciate the light.

The Beast Is Here

If only I had known what was in store for us, I may not have found so much beauty in the beast. I have to write my columns ahead of time. I sent it to the papers on Tuesday night, one week in advance of deadline and it doesn't appear in the papers until that Thursday. It's usually ten days from writing to publication. A lot can change in that time. 

When I wrote Beauty and the Beast, the temperatures were not that bad and it hadn't been snowing every other day. Now this story will hit the papers on the coldest day of the year so far. They are predicting a low of 20 below zero and a high of 5 below on Thursday. Uff da. And the rest of the week doesn't look much better. We've had several inches of new snow today. This would be great snow to get out in. But, I'd need a fur-lined jock strap and so many clothes on, I'd look like Ralphie in the Christmas Story, who had so many clothes on he couldn't get back up. I'd be in the same predicament if I fell down. Seems like every time we get new snow, the temperature plummets and people hunker down in their houses, crank up the heat, grab another blanket to sit under, and curse the Beast. I may end up doing some of the same by the end of this bitterly cold, Beastly week!

Stay warm and think spring.

 

Beauty and the Beast

Across the Fence #217

I'm trapped. I'm a prisoner. I've got to get out of here. Isn't that the way many of you feel about winter? Many people sit in their houses, only going out to clear the driveway of more snow and get groceries. Winter imprisons them and there doesn't seem to be any escape until spring arrives and frees them from their misery.

It reminds me of the classic fairy tale, "Beauty and the Beast." In the story, a beautiful woman, Belle, is held captive in a castle by a horrible-looking beast, who is really a Prince. At the heart of the story is the lesson that we shouldn't judge a parson, or a beast, by its appearance. In the end, Belle learns to love the Beast despite his appearance. Because of her love, he's transformed back into a Prince and they live happily ever after. Don't you just love those fairy tale endings?

Winter is like that beast. When the first snow arrives and covers everything in a blanket of white it looks beautiful... like a picture postcard. We go out walking in it, marveling at the beauty. Life is good. A month later, the snow is piled high. It snows every other day. You're sick and tired of shoveling, but it keeps piling up on your driveway and sidewalks. The bitter cold is also present, making it harder to venture outside in comfort. You long for the days of shorts, t-shirts, and tennis shoes. It takes ten minutes to put all your winter clothes on just to go out and get the mail. You curse the snow, the wind, the cold, and even the snowplow that keeps piling snow in your driveway. You feel like giving winter and everything associated with it a one-fingered salute. You're trapped, imprisoned, and being tortured by the beast that's known as "Winter." How can you learn to love a beast like that? So much for happy, fairy tale endings.

But wait, maybe all is not lost. Perhaps some of you can learn to love this beast. Some people claim those of us of Norwegian heritage are born with skis on our feet. That makes for some painful deliveries. But seriously folks, skiing is a great way to learn to love the beast.

When I was still cross-country ski racing, I couldn't wait for winter to arrive. Even a heavy frost would find me waxing my skis in anticipation. When snowstorms and bitter cold weather arrived, I still found beauty in the beast. 

My brother, David, and I would go downhill skiing in the evenings after work. As you know, it gets much colder at night and the soft snow of the day turns into an icy, fast surface. The wind would howl across the hills, the snow would blow, but we were in Seventh Heaven, flying down the slopes, our skis chattering across the hard-packed snow. We never had to worry about crowded conditions. Sometimes there were no other skiers around us. I guess not everyone sees the beauty in the beast, especially on cold, winter nights.

Mu cousin-in-law, Lou Wagner, who lives in Colorado, said he could always tell a Midwestern skier. We're always leaning forward so our weight is on the front of our skis to bite into the icy surface. It's hard for "ice skiers" to learn to sit back on their tails when they ski in powder. It's something to watch an expert skier like Lou carving a trail through the powder on a Colorado slope. That's poetry in motion. The love affair with winter has turned the beast into a beauty for Lou and all skiers, whether it's downhill, cross-country, or jumping.

Another activity that can bring the beauty out of the beast is snowshoeing. It can take you into deep snow and woods where you wouldn't normally venture during winter months. You can follow animal tracks and try to determine what story the tracks tell. You might be following a rabbit's tracks when they suddenly disappear. The hint of wings brushing the snow, tells us the unfortunate rabbit did not enjoy a fairy tale ending. Such is the way of the natural world. One perishes so the other may live. I find great fascination in observing the life that's been going on around us, as recorded in the snow. I know writers Jerry Apps and Norbert Blei share my love of exploring the stories we find written in the snow. If you get out, take a hike through the snow, and start looking for those stories, it will help turn the beast into a beauty for you too.

Even a simple act like feeding the birds in winter can add a lot of beauty to the beast. I've fed them and other critters for years. Have fun observing them and see how many species you can attract. This year it finally happened. I've been able to feed birds out of my hand. You feel a special bond with the natural world as a Chickadee perches on your bare fingers and eats seed from the palm of your hand.

They say there's a child inside each of us. Maybe that child needs to be set free, just like the Prince trapped inside the Beast. Then we can look at winter through the eyes of a child and find beauty in the beast.

Another Old-Fashioned Winter

Across the Fence #216

This has been a great day... a great day to be inside. The storm began yesterday. Snow, wind, and sub-zero temperatures have been the order of the day. Our thermometer registered a low of 13 below zero last night. I don't want to know what the wind chill was. Weather forecasters told people to stay home and avoid traveling because of the blowing and drifting snow. Sensible people heeded the warning. We, being of questionable sound mind, ventured out to attend a surprise birthday party.

I should mention that Vernon County not only has the Kickapoo River, also known as the "Crooked River," but also has miles and miles of crooked roads. Many of those roads also have steep, winding hills. This makes for interesting and adventuresome winter driving, especially during a snowstorm with near-blizzard conditions, when you've been warned to stay off the roads.

We took our time and had no problems. Well, I shouldn't say no problems. Blowing snow made it hard to find the center of the crooked roads at times. Sherpe Road had lots of drifts by the time we got home. It reminded me of the old-fashioned winters I remember when I was growing up on this farm. A North/South wind often filled parts of the road with three to four foot drifts in places. Nothing got in or out, until the snowplow arrived to plow us out.

Arvid Harpestad usually did the plowing on our Viroqua Township road with his road grader that had a snowplow attachment. He seemed to arrive around coffee time and always plowed our driveway too. When he was done, Dad would invite him in to warm up and have some coffee. I suspect Arvid times his arrival at our place to coincide with coffee time. He knew Ma was a great cook. She always had sandwiches, cake, cookies, and quite often, pie, to go along with coffee. I don't eat that much for lunch these days. But back then, inviting someone to stop for coffee, was much more than just a cup of coffee.

But I digress; lets get back to the present. This morning we awoke to bitter cold temperatures and high winds, with blowing and drifting snow. It was the kind of cold wind that took your breath away and could freeze exposed skin in a matter of minutes. The wind chill must have been 30-35 below zero. When I walked on the snow it had that crunching sound that goes with really cold weather.

I have to wonder how the birds manage to survive through days and nights like this. They need plenty of energy to keep their body temperature up to keep from freezing to death. I keep their feeders full and shovel an area under them for all the ground-feeding birds. The Chickadees like to stay in the shelter of a grove of trees where I hung a feeder. This morning they were waiting on nearby branches as I filled the feeder. I stood there watching as they began feeding. They showed no fear of this human that was standing only a foot away.

As I stood in the shelter of the trees, it was still hard to escape the bitter cold. I thought of the Native Americans who once occupied this Coon Prairie area long before the first Norwegians arrived. We complain about the cold weather now. How difficult it must have been for them on days like this. Even if they were in a protected area out of the wind, the cold must have been terrible to deal with. 

I also thought of those poor soldiers in World War II during the Battle of the Bulge and soldiers fighting in Korea. They endured horrible conditions, fighting and sleeping in snow-filled foxholes and dealing with sub-zero temperatures. We can't imagine what it must have been like.

I thought of the days like this when a water pipe would burst in the old barn. Dad was not a happy camper when he found water running in the barn, or frozen pipes so the cows couldn't get any water. That's not a good way for any farmer to start a cold, winter morning. It makes you wish your ancestors had settled in Florida or Arizona when they first arrived in this country.

I've got to admit, it's nice being safe and warm inside, on a day like this. I can look out the window from where I'm sitting and see snow blowing the snow off the top of huge drifts along the fence line. Drifts across the field behind the house resemble rippling waves on an ocean. It's beautiful when viewed from inside a warm house.

This is a Sunday, so I don't need to try and get to work. It reminded me of those old-fashioned winters of my youth when we couldn't get to school because of snowstorms and roads drifted shut. At least I don't have to go to the barn and help do the milking and chores in this weather. That was tough. Remember when you had to use a pickaxe to chop at the frozen silage. Uff da, the good old days!? Now I sit inside and write about it instead. There's something to be said for having a warm, wimpy job on days like this, when an old-fashioned winter has arrived.

Across the Fence: Back To the Country

The third collection of Across the Fence columns is now available. 

216 pages with lots of photos. If you are interested in purchasing a copy, you can contact me.

The price is $16.00

Wisconsin residents add $0.88 for sales tax.

Shipping is $3.50

Checks made payable to: Howard Sherpe

Send to:

Howard Sherpe

E7409 Sherpe Road

Westby, WI 54667

Welcome to Across the Fence

On this page you will find the stories that run in my weekly column that appears in newspapers in Wisconsin, Iowa, and Minnesota. To receive an email notice that a new story or message has been posted, click on the link near the top of the left hand column: "Follow this Blog." Set up a FREE Google account if you don't already have one. It's quick and easy. Then each week you'll receive an email that a new story is posted and you simply click on the link in the email to read the story.

I hope you had a great New Year.

A Look In the Rearview Mirror

Across the Fence #215

Ring the Bells, blow the horns, and drop the ball in Times Square. Behind us, another year is disappearing into the sunset. Ahead of us a new one is peeking over the horizon.

The New Year always reminds me of driving down a country road. Our eyes are on the road and scenery ahead of us. We never know what might be around the next corner or over the next hill. Life is Like that. We never know what we may encounter in the new year.

Have you ever been cruising down a country road and glanced in the rearview mirror? Through the windshield you see a dark stormy sky ahead of you, and in the center of that dark sky, in the rearview mirror, is a sunny, blue sky behind you. Such stark contrasts. Or maybe it's just the reverse, clear sky ahead and a storm behind you. It's the same with the New Year as we enter it. We don't know what adventures await us.

When 2008 began, I was still living in "The Sherpe Suite" at Old Town Motel in Westby. I spent five months living there while we built a house. Linda continued living and working in Madsion as we tried to sell our house there. Did I mention, this was not a good year to sell a house?

We finally moved in the day after a huge February snowstorm. It was interesting. There are still things I'm trying to find back. Hopefully, they're hidden somewhere in the boxes stacked in the basement. If you've ever moved after spending many years in a house, you know thew sorting, throwing, and packing involved. In the beginning I carefully sorted and packed our treasures. As the weeks went by and boxes piled up, our treasures turned into junk and I began pitching stuff left and right. I suspect I threw out some of the things I'm now searching for. Moving isn't something I'd care to do very often.

Now we're settled on a corner of the back forty on Sherpe Road. As I write this, I'm sitting in our four-season porch where I write most of my stories. We have large windows that take in the views around us. It's a winter wonderland scene as I look out and see large snowflakes against a backdrop of pine trees next to the house. Out the window beside me, I see birds swarming around our feeders. It's going to be a bitter cold, snowy night for them and they'll need plenty of energy.

Rabbits take their share of the spilled seed. They need to eat too. Those of you, who've been reading this column for a long time, know I like to take care of the birds and critters. Sometimes my love of wildlife gets me in trouble. I did a story on the Wisconsin wolf population this past year and said I was against the killing of wolves for sport. I certainly ruffled a few feathers with that one. One man let me know that wolves have no purpose and we should kill them all. Another writer (anonymous too, of course), hoped the last sound I hear is the howl of a wolf before it kills me. This writing a weekly column can get a bit interesting at times.

Another story that garnered a bunch of hate mail this past year was "Countless Lost Lives, Lost Potential." I'll be the first to admit that I don't have many positive things to say about war. I find it interesting and frightening that a person who advocates finding ways to get along peacefully instead of fighting, is labeled a coward and unpatriotic. Responses to that story, questioned my manhood; thought I was being disrespectful to all veterans; called me a coward; suggested I join the army and go fight instead of letting others die in my place; and if I don't like this country, get the H... out!

Let me say this, I meant no disrespect to any veteran. For those not aware of it, I'm a veteran too. Political leaders and madmen like Hitler, start wars. Ordinary men and women, do the fighting and dying. Make that extraordinary men and women. They're the people who step forward when called upon. Those who fought in World War II are heroes in my book. They helped change the course of history. Korean veterans are also heroes in my book. Again, too many young men lost their lives, but they kept Korea from being taken over by Communist leaders. Vietnam was my war. Most people say it's a war we should never have been involved in. I won't debate that in this column. To those who questioned my patriotism, manhood, and bravery, I invite you to talk with those brave patriots I served with in Vietnam.

I hope there are people who read this column that like and agree with something I've written, but I seldom hear from them. I've tried to follow an upbeat, positive approach in my stories. There's too much negativity in the world. As we enter a new year, my hope is that we'll all look for the positives along whatever path we follow. Then when we look in the rearview mirror, the view behind us will be bright, as well as the road ahead of us.

Happy New Year everyone!