If You Start At the End

Across the Fence #267

Happy New Year everyone! Here we are at the end of another year and the beginning a new one. Each year as I open the door on a new year, I wonder what adventures await me on the other side of that door. If we could start at the end of the year and look back, there wouldn’t be any mystery associated with it. We’d already know the story. We aren’t able to foresee the future, but we can glance in the rearview mirror once in a while.

We do a lot of looking back as we visit here, across the fence, each week. It’s important that we live in the present, but it doesn’t hurt to look back and remember where we came from and where we’ve been.

I recently received a book in the mail from Frank E. Studnicka, who lives in Lancaster. He reads my column in the Boscobel Dial. The book he sent is titled Happenings In the Hollow that he wrote about his life, growing up on a farm near Blue River, Wisconsin in the 1930’s and 40’s.

Frank says, “Another reason for penning these words is nostalgia for a way of life that once was. It’s not likely any of us would like to go back to that way of life; modern technology has spoiled us. But I believe that people as a whole were happier then and life was so much simpler. What every person wants out of life is happiness, but in their pursuit of happiness they lose sight of what happiness really is. I do not have a definition for it but I know my young life was a happy one and I have few regrets as I look back.”

I feel the same way that Frank does. There is nostalgia for the way life was when we were growing up. I hear that all the time from the readers of this column. It did seem to be a much simpler time, but maybe it just seemed that way because I was young and had a lot fewer responsibilities. I think he’s right. Technology has spoiled us and I doubt if very many people would want to go back in time and live without the many things we’ve become accustomed to.

Let me cite just a few examples of why it’s good to live in the present and not in the past.

Lets start with water. We take water for granted. In those days that many of us remember, water had to be pumped from a well and in many cases, carried to the house in a bucket. Hot water was obtained by heating it on a stove. You didn’t just step in a shower and turn the hot water on. You didn’t go to the bathroom and flush a toilet. We didn’t have indoor plumbing until I was a sophomore in high school. We used an outhouse. All cooking and washing of dishes was more difficult because you had to heat the water first. Washing clothes was a major task using a wringer washer. Nobody carried around a personal plastic bottle of store-bought water to drink. We drank well water. We shared the same cup. We all drank out of the same glass water jar when we worked in the fields. I don’t remember any of us getting sick because of those drinking practices. How many of you want to give up the way we use water today and go back to those days?

Lets talk about communication. Many of you remember when we listened to the radio because there was no such thing as television. Then television came along and we were thrilled with one black and white channel on our one TV set, even if the reception was horrible much of the time. How long has it been since you had to adjust your horizontal or vertical hold? Remember when you got a second channel, you had to get up and change the channel on the TV? No remote controls in those days. Now we have color TV and most of us have over 100 channels that are clear the majority of the time. There’s even high definition TV. If the picture isn’t perfect all the time we complain. Many homes have multiple TV’s. Maybe we all need to go back to having one TV with one black and white, snowy channel, without a remote, for just one week. I think everyone would better appreciate what we now have. Sometimes it’s good to look back.

Then there’s the telephone. At one time we were lucky to have a crank phone on the wall. Now everyone seems to have one attached to their hip or in their ear. We have voice mail, call waiting, and answering machines, so we don’t miss any calls. But we also use those devices so we don’t have to answer those calls. How many of you could go back to not having your cell phone handy?

Now we have computers, e-mail, and every other type of instant communication device. How many of you could go back to doing without them?

What other changes will we see and experience? What new adventures await us in the New Year? We’ll soon know. It’s important that we live in the present, but it’s good to look back once in a while, to better appreciate what we have now.

Memories of Christmas Eve - 1966

Across the Fence #266 (Extra)

As this Christmas approaches, I’d like us all to take a moment and remember all those servicemen and women who won’t be home for Christmas this year. Many will be spending it in a war zone in Iraq and Afghanistan, just as I spent Christmas in Vietnam in 1966. Five years ago I ran this column. A couple weeks later I received a call from a woman. She said she had read my column and had finally gotten up the nerve to call me. She told me that her brother had been killed in Vietnam on Christmas Eve in 1966. She said this story had finally given her some peace in thinking that maybe her brother had shared some of the same thoughts on that Christmas Eve before he was killed. She hoped he had also experienced the peacefulness that I had felt. Talking with her made me aware, once again, of how lucky I am to still be here. We need to appreciate each and every day we have. I’d like to share these thoughts with you that I wrote back in 1966, so many years ago.

25 December 1966 (Christmas)

Merry Christmas to me. I imagine it’s Christmas Eve about this time back home. I wish I was there with them. We just finished Christmas dinner.

Sidney just left on patrol. I returned from an ambush patrol before dinner. It will be one Christmas Eve that I’ll never forget. It was a quiet night with no contact. I sure had a lot of thoughts as I sat out there in the boonies after it got dark. It was a beautiful, starlit night. The song “Silent Night” kept going through my mind. I thought of my family and how things always looked at Christmas back home. The tree all decorated and lit up with the bubble lights, the angel that has been on top of our tree for as long as I can remember, snow, and the decorated stores and streets in town.

I remembered the Christmas programs we put on back at Smith, our one-room country school. It seemed like we practiced for weeks. Then the big night finally arrived and all the parents, grandparents, and neighbors crowded into the little school to watch us perform. It was one of the most memorable times of the year. It was also real scary to stand up in front of all those people and try to remember what to say. I think the audience got a bigger kick out of our goof-ups, than when we remembered our lines. They couldn’t see our poor teacher cringing behind the curtain that was strung on a wire across the front of the schoolroom. I bet even she had a good laugh about our performances once the program was over!

Santa would show up at the end of the program and hand out candy and apples. I have some great memories from those old Christmas programs.

I also remembered how we always fed the cows extra feed and hay on Christmas Eve. It was their special night because the baby Jesus had been born in a manger with all the animals looking on. It was such an exciting, special night. On the radio we’d hear reports of Santa’s progress as people spotted his sleigh and reindeer heading our way. We always left some milk and cookies for Santa. He even liked lefse! Santa ate everything we left for him and even took the carrots we left for his reindeer!

A person sure has a lot of thoughts sometimes. I know next year on Christmas Eve I’ll be thinking of how I spent this one. I may have been out on a jungle ambush patrol, but sitting out there with everything perfectly quiet, it all seemed so peaceful, as I remembered and thought of what Christmas is. For a while there was peace on earth in the middle of a war. “Silent Night, Holy Night,” kept going through my mind. The sky was so clear and the stars were so bright I felt like I could reach up and touch them. There were millions of stars. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stars at one time. I looked to see if one stood out much brighter than all the rest, but couldn’t find one. I used to love looking at the stars back on the farm, but over here it seems like you can see so many more. There are no lights of any kind to interfere with being able to see them. Everything is black around you and the only lights are the stars above. The universe seems so vast; it really makes a person feel small.

Since I’ve been here and experienced war, I’ve questioned the existence of a God. Sitting out there on Christmas Eve I felt like I was peering into the face of God as I looked at the millions of stars and galaxies. I don’t know what God is, where he is, or why he lets this killing go on, but last night I felt a peacefulness that I’ve never experienced before.

It seemed so strange. There I sat with a rifle in hand, along with five other guys, waiting to kill people, while the words “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” went through my mind. It’s no wonder my thinking and beliefs are so screwed up and confused anymore.

I wish I was home for Christmas. We all wish we could be. I’ll just have to celebrate Christmas in my mind, with memories of how it used to be.

One more thing, I finally received the package of Ma’s chocolate chip cookies! It was the best Christmas present I could have received! After weeks in transit, they were still edible. I shared them with my friends and they’re already gone. Cookies don’t last long around here. I’ve got to write Ma and tell her thanks. That’s about all on this Christmas day, 1966.

May this Christmas, 2009, bring you happiness and joy, and may the world one day experience “Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.”

An Old-Fashioned Blizzard

Across the Fence #266

Uff da! We really got dumped on. This has been one of those old-fashioned blizzards. An old farmer once told me, “Big snow, little snow. Little Snow, big snow.” He was right again. The snow started on Tuesday afternoon. “Little” flakes, almost like sleet. Sure enough, it ended up being a very “Big” snow. It came down for at least 24 hours, accompanied by 40+ mile-an-hour winds that created blowing and drifting snow, not to mention whiteout conditions. We had all the ingredients for an old-fashioned blizzard. Not the mother of all blizzards that many of you remember from 1959, but this gave us a good taste of one.

Luckily I put new tires on my Cavalier last week. I needed them today. And... I bought a snow blower the day before it began. It did pain me to do it, especially in the pocketbook, but thank heavens I did. We had three-foot drifts through most of our 75-foot driveway. The snow blower had its hands full, but I was able to sort of clear it early this morning. It drifted back in about as fast as I made a path. No matter which direction I blew the snow, it came back in my face. I must have looked like an overdressed snowman by the time I finished. Luckily, a neighbor came with his skid steer and pushed the snow way back from the driveway. It only took a few minutes. Who needs a snow blower if you have a skid steer?

The phone company is like the post office, no matter what the weather, we’ll be there, so I headed to work. I managed to buck the drifts on Sherpe Road with my “Silver Bullet” Cavalier with four new tires and didn’t get stuck. We did shut the place down an hour early so everyone could get home before it got dark.

At least the plow had gone through Sherpe Road, but I had to clear the driveway again. The drifts were just as big as they had been in the morning. That’s too much stress on a new blower and an old operator.

As I finished clearing my driveway, I thought of what my brother, David, had written me on a recent, foggy, case weather day. He said, “On my drive into work this morning, I couldn’t help thinking about taking down tobacco. I remember Pearly Stenslien helping us at his shed one year. When we took down the last lath he said, ‘If we had started with that one first, we’d have been done a long time ago.’” I wonder if that reasoning could apply to clearing our driveway too.

It’s really gotten cold too. I think I’ve had enough snow now and I’m ready for spring!! Enough with the song, “Let It Snow.” I should never have mentioned it last week. It’s really blowing up here on the prairie. Imagine tomorrow morning we’ll have to go through the whole process again. Now that we have snow, it’s going to be so cold for the next week that it’s dangerous to stay outside very long. So much for the wooly caterpillar predicting the winter weather and being right 70% of the time. This was supposed to be a mild winter, according to the length of their black “wool.”

I’ve often wondered about the sanity of our ancestors. They had this whole country to choose from when they came from Norway and they decided to settle in the frozen tundra. Uff da, we Norskies could be sitting in the sun on our porch down south, watching those poor devils “Up Nort,” suffering through a cold and snowy winter. But, here we are.

I guess I shouldn’t complain. The way it looks now, we’ll have a white Christmas. When you’re used to having snow at Christmas, it wouldn’t be the same with brown grass and warm weather. Santa needs some snow for his sleigh and reindeer to land on.

When I think back to when I was young and Santa was very real, I never questioned how a chubby guy in a red, furry suit, could get into our house with his bag of presents. We didn’t have a fireplace, just a stovepipe that attached to a hot kitchen stove and a hole in the chimney. If Santa slid down our chimney he would have to squeeze through that stovepipe, and then exit into a blazing, hot fire, and somehow kick open the door of the kitchen stove and crawl out. I knew it would take some real magic to accomplish such a feat. There was a flue you could open in the side of the stovepipe. Maybe he squeezed through that little opening. For a kid who liked to question everything, it’s surprising that I accepted Santa performing such magical feats. When I finally asked my mother, she said he came in through a door or window if people didn’t have a fireplace. That made sense to me.

I don’t recall that we ever had an old-fashioned blizzard on Christmas Eve, but I’m positive Santa would have found us with the help of Rudolph. I still associate that song with Gene Autry who recorded it in 1949, when I was five years old.

We all have lots of memories associated with blizzards, songs, and Christmas. May you have a wonderful Christmas and create many new memories.

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!

Across the Fence #265

Oh the weather outside is frightful, but the fire is so delightful, and since we’ve no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! Lyricist Sammy Cahn and composer Jule Styne created that wonderful Christmas song in 1945, when I was one year old. I was singing along with it last week in the car, as winter finally arrived after staying away through November. We usually have several inches of the white stuff on the ground by the time December arrives.

As usually happens with the first snowfall, people have forgotten how to drive on slippery, snow-covered roads. A car lost control ahead of me as I was approaching Sherpe Road, and slid into the ditch. If it had slid across the road, we’d probably have hit head on. It’s hard going from green grass and dry roads one minute, to snow-covered, slippery roads the next.

It snowed just enough to make driving and walking treacherous, but not enough to ski, sled, or snowshoe on. That could easily change by the time you read this. They’re predicting up to a foot of snow with high winds and blizzard conditions for tonight. I have two choices, I can complain about the weather as being a major Uff da, or I can sit back and sing along with the song, “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.” We live in the upper Midwest and it’s winter. That usually means snow and cold weather. I like the Norwegian philosophy, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes.”

We have to face the fact that snow and cold weather have arrived. It’s time to get out the long underwear, snow boots, heavy winter jackets, sweaters, scarves, stocking caps, earmuffs, and extra pairs of gloves and socks. Then if you can still move, you can venture outside and enjoy the new snow. Just don’t slip and fall down. With all those clothes on, you won’t get hurt, but you’ll be like Ralphie’s little brother, Randy, in “A Christmas Story” and you won’t be able to get back up.

I plan to try something new this winter. I’ve always wanted to snowshoe, so this year I bought a pair, when they were on sale of course. I love to cross country ski through woods and other quiet areas, but there are always places you can’t get with skis or there’s just too much snow. I figure you’re never too old to try something new. I suspect it will be quite a workout, but should give me access to some beautiful winter scenes.

I like venturing into areas where no one else has been. I call it “virgin snow,” when no human tracks or trails are found. I like looking for animal tracks in such areas and following them. You never know where they’ll lead or what you’ll find. Maybe I’ll even find some deer trails. I haven’t seen a deer around here for a long time. I personally think last year’s “earn a buck” hunting season depleted the doe population. That’s one less fawn for every doe killed. I’ll look for deer tracks and let you know what I find.

By the way, did you hear the report that Santa will have 18 reindeer pulling his sleigh this year? Opps, disregard what I said. I just found out that report came from the DNR. Hopefully Santa will still be able to find eight reindeer.

As long as we’re talking about tracks in the snow, how many of you remember playing Fox and Geese? At Smith School, we’d tromp down the snow to make a large circle. Then we made intersecting trails through the center of the circle. One person was the fox and everyone else was a goose. The fox started in the center where the trails crossed. This was the safe zone or hen house. The geese were on the outer circle. The fox would then chase the geese. They had to make it to the center hen house without being caught by the fox or going out of the trails. I think the last goose tagged became the fox. However, the rules are pretty fuzzy in my mind and we probably made many of them up as we went along.

I do know that we did a lot of running around the circle and other trails, but don’t remember much else. It was great exercise in the winter.

Making snow angels in new-fallen snow was another winter activity at school. I think it was mostly a girl thing. After all, they were the angels! The guys were busy behind the outhouse writing yellow messages in the new snow! I don’t think that qualifies us for angel wings. That’s all I’ll say about that.

As you can see, there are a variety of things you can do in the snow to make winters more bearable and enjoyable.

Whenever I think of snow and Christmas, I think of another song, “I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas,” sung by Bing Crosby. It’s a classic and part of the Christmas season for me.

Now granted, I know I’ll be singing completely different tunes by the end of March, but for the moment, “Let it snow, let it snow let it snow!”

Two Years and Many Changes

Across the Fence #264

It's now two years since the contractor started putting our house together on the foundation in the back forty of the farm I grew up on. So many things have changed in that time. Two years ago I was living at the Old Towne Motel south of Westby. It was my home for five months during our transition from Madison to Westby. It was very comfortable, complete with two recliners, bookcases, a table, television, phone, morning coffee and rolls, plus I could use their microwave and refrigerator. I thank Carroll and Pat Olson again for letting me stay in the “Sherpe Suite.” I told Linda, it was so comfortable, we should forget about building a house and live at the motel. It would be a lot cheaper. Even though she liked the Sherpe Suite, she thought the fresh country air had warped my brain. We didn’t cancel the construction!

In February 2008, I finally moved into our completed house and Linda moved from our Madison house to Westby. Let me say to everyone, if you don’t need to sell a house in this down economy, stay where you are. Luckily we finally sold our Madison house after about ten months on the market and feel very fortunate that we got rid of it, even if we took a beating.

We managed to survive the bitter cold weather and record snows of that first winter. There was a huge snowstorm the day before we moved, and a storm the day after, but luckily, the snow held off on the day we moved. After the long winter, it was nice to see spring finally arrive.

Spring brought mud around our new house and plenty of weeds. It also brought more torrential rain and floods. Again we were lucky. All the water problems we experienced during the building process had been a blessing in disguise. As a result, many things were implemented to avoid future water problems. When everyone else was experiencing water troubles during the June, 2008 flood, our basement was dry as a bone.

After three attempts to get grass seeded before another rain, we finally succeeded. It grew so good, I had to break down and buy a riding lawnmower… a John Deere of course.

I was ready for that first winter in our house on the prairie where the winds blow strong and create deep drifts in our driveway. I had purchased an old, used snow blower at a neighbor’s auction. Back in Madison, I always used a shovel and never owned a snow blower. But then our driveway was much shorter too. I had volunteered to buy matching shovels for Linda and me, but that suggestion didn’t go over as good as I had hoped!

You get what you pay for. That pre-owned (let’s tell it like it is, that old snow blower was not just pre-owned, it was prehistoric) and was mighty short on blowing power. It broke down twice last winter and I’m beginning to think a shovel works just as good with fewer problems. But then I’m not as young as I used to be. I still get back problems from when I broke my tailbone years ago.

As frugal as I try to be, I may have to break down and buy a new snow blower this year. Uff da, it pains me just to write those words. So far, I’m still holding out for matching shovels. Here we are at the end of November, as I write this, and the grass is still green. Maybe I won’t need those shovels this winter!

After two years I finally got around to unpacking all our boxes and stuff in the basement. When I started unpacking, I found things back that I’d been looking for and thought I’d probably thrown in the garbage or given to Good Will. Anyone who’s cleaned out and packed up a house after thirty-plus years will understand how things can become misplaced. At first I was sorting, packing, and labeling every box with great care. As time went on, I was throwing stuff left and right, and what we kept was stuffed into any box where it would fit. Why we kept half the stuff we had is beyond my comprehension. At the time you never know when you might need that used nail, that old, torn, pair of jeans that’s three sizes too small, and countless knick-knacks and stuff that hadn’t seen the light of day for twenty-plus years. Now as I went about unpacking the boxes in the basement, I wondered why we kept half the stuff we moved?!

One thing I haven’t second-guessed is my decision to accept the Marketing Manager job at Vernon Telephone Cooperative in Westby, and moving after forty years in the advertising business in Madison. Many friends thought I was crazy to make those changes at my age, when most of them were retiring or already retired. Maybe I am crazy, but then I’ve always been accused of taking the road less traveled. Linda loves it here too, has many new friends, and says she has the best of both worlds.

We now have beautiful sunrises and sunsets, deer roaming through our back yard, clouds, and the night sky filled with billions of stars. The road less traveled may be filled with many changes, but the trip is great.