Across the Fence #371
It’s time to open the door to a new year and see what awaits us on the other side. We never know what adventures, opportunities, and challenges we’ll encounter. Only time will tell.
I imagine many of you are looking forward to New Year’s Eve parties where you’ll welcome the New Year in with toasts, cheers, funny hats, noisemakers, and the singing of Auld Lang Syne. Did you know the words of that song mean “the times gone past; the good old days.”
I’m not much of a party animal anymore, so I’ll just try to stay awake long enough to say that I saw the New Year arrive. Once I kick back in my Lazy Boy I don’t always make it. I’m like one of those dolls whose eyes close when you put them in a horizontal position. Even three-quarter horizontal will do it for me. The dropping of the ball in Times Square often takes place as I’m wandering around in dreamland, with a distant voice somewhere in the fog that sounds a lot like Dick Clark, counting down the remaining seconds in the old year.
As we look back on the old year that we’re leaving behind, the words of Charles Dickens from A Tale of Two Cities, comes to mind, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” That probably applies to most people. We all have good times and bad times. Hopefully, the good times far outweighed the bad for all of you. Just remember, when you sing Auld Lang Syne, you’re waxing nostalgic for the good old days.
I have some friends who would just as soon leave the old year far behind. It hasn’t been the best of times for them. Heart attacks, cancer diagnosis, injuries in an auto accident, arthritic problems, knee replacements, hip replacements, jobs being eliminated, and the list goes on and on. Needless to say, most of my friends are card carrying AARP members. Senior citizen status is not for sissies! Many of my best friends are fellow Vietnam vets. We may no longer be lean, mean fighting machines, but there’s still plenty of fight left in us.
That reminds me of the story about a C-130 that was lumbering along when a cocky F-16 flashed by. The jet jockey decided to show off. The fighter jock told the C-130 pilot, “watch this!” and promptly went into a barrel roll, followed by a steep climb. He then finished with a sonic boom as he broke the sound barrier. The F-16 pilot asked the C-130 pilot what he thought about that.
The C-130 pilot radioed back, “That was pretty impressive, but watch this!” The C-130 droned along for about five minutes and then the C-130 pilot came back on and said, “What did you think of that?”
Puzzled, the F-16 pilot asked, “What the heck did you do?”
The C-130 pilot chuckled. “I stood up, stretched my legs, walked to the back of the plane, went to the bathroom, got a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll, and then came back to the cockpit and sat down.”
When you are young and foolish, speed and flash may seem like a good thing! When you get older and smarter, comfort and unexciting is not such a bad thing! We older folks understand this one. It’s called S.O.S.... Slower, Older and Smarter.
On the flip side of Dicken’s saying, it’s also the best of times. Those friends who’ve encountered problems during the past year, are still alive and above ground. They have positive attitudes and have enough life experiences to know that the road we travel is not always paved, and sometimes filled with potholes. When we hit those roads, we adjust our speed and continue on our journey, slower, older, and smarter, just like the old C-130 pilot.
As we open that door to the New Year, we know it’s filled with new adventures and possibilities. It holds excitement for our family, but that’s another story. It also holds more of those moments that money can’t buy; the sun rising out of a morning fog; golden sunsets that change every day–each more breathtaking than the next; towering storm clouds rolling across the prairie; deer grazing in the back yard–always on alert; water rippling over the rocks in a peaceful trout stream; the soothing sound of the wind ruffling the leaves of the trees and making the oats move like waves on an ocean; the smell of new-mown hay; corn shocks standing like sentries in a field, lined up in perfect formation as they disappear over the hill; the sound of a windmill cranking in the wind on a hot summer day; following animal tracks in a blanket of new-fallen snow; snowshoeing through a woods as large flakes of snow fall around you; sitting quietly in a fall woods and watching the leaves drift lazily to the ground; hearing the sound of turkeys calling nearby; and the sound of a Loon echoing across a lake as the water gently laps against a canoe.
Being aware of nature all around us, and taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells; these are the intangible things that add to our lives and often become the best of times, even if you’re going through the worst of times. Enjoy them all. Happy New Year everyone!
*
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Monday, December 19, 2011
The "Blue Spruce" of Sunshine Prairie
Across the Fence #370w (Christmas Extra)
It was a beautiful fall day in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. Sunshine Prairie was awash in beauty and splendor from all the trees decked out in their finest fall colors. Butterflies were flitting from flower to flower, drinking in the finest nectar the kingdom had to offer before the flowers began to fade as colder weather arrived.
Princess Sonja sat among the flowers at the base of Three Rock Chimney. It was a great day to soak up some sun and find a little solitude from her job as the fairy princess in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. She was always being called upon to help someone with their problems. Sometimes, even a fairy princess needed to get away and enjoy some peace and quiet.
But things were not as peaceful as she had hoped. She sensed some tension and sadness in the air and it seemed to be coming from Christmas Tree Lane. The White Dove who had been resting atop Three Rock Chimney, flew down and landed on Princess Sonja’s shoulder. He whispered in Sonja’s ear. “I feel the sadness too,” she said. “Lets take a stroll over to Christmas Tree Lane and see what we can find.”
Sonja and the White Dove walked through the field of fading wild flowers, stopping occasionally to talk with a flower that greeted them as they passed. The beautiful day had all the flowers in a good mood, but even the flowers sensed that their days were numbered and that sadness was coming from the grove of Christmas trees.
As they entered Christmas Tree Lane, Sonja felt the sadness growing stronger. They followed the lane between the trees in the direction it was coming from. All the trees greeted them as they passed. Sonja had a feeling she already knew the problem. They finally came to the tallest tree in the grove. It was Bruce the Blue Spruce. Sonja greeted Bruce with a smile. “What’s wrong, Bruce, you seem bluer than usual today?”
“I know Sonja, but I can’t help it. They came yesterday, selecting trees that would be used for Christmas this year. I wasn’t selected again. I’m just a tree; I’ll never be a Christmas tree. Last week Jack and Jill came up the hill to find a place to be alone. They sat down where you are, took one look at me, and said, ‘Have you ever seen such an ugly tree.’ I tell you, it almost made my sap run.”
Sonja sat down in the shade next to Bruce, and the White Dove flew up and perched on one of his branches. He was in need of some love and positive reinforcement. Life had not been easy for Bruce. He had suffered many tragedies. In his early years, some cows in a pasture that bordered the field of young Christmas trees, were searching for greener grass on the other side of the fence. Several of them got out and came straight through the grove of young trees. One of the cows stepped on Bruce, breaking several of his limbs and leaving a very noticeable crink in his trunk. Rumor has it, the same cow was seen jumping over the moon that night, the same night that a dish ran away with a spoon. There were some really strange happenings that night, but that’s another story.
Back to that cow that stepped on Bruce. The farmer who owned the orchard considered ripping him out of the ground and planting a new tree in his place, but they must have forgotten about him after all the excitement of the cow jumping over the moon and that dish running off with the spoon. That same night three blind mice ran after the farmer’s wife and she ended up cutting off their tails with a carving knife. Have you ever seen such a sight in your life? After all the excitement, the farmer forgot all about Bruce and never came back that first year to replace him.
He managed to survive all his injuries, but was never the same. The older he became, the more noticeable his crooked trunk became. Several of his limbs never grew back and he ended up with a funny shape. He was not a beautiful tree. The owners even gave up trying to shape him into a Christmas tree, so his odd shape always stood out among the perfectly groomed trees. Each year he was bypassed when people came through selecting Christmas trees. Not only didn’t anyone select him, but several people would make snide remarks about how ugly he was and why didn’t someone just cut that tree down and get rid of it. Poor Bruce, the people didn’t know he could understand them and how much it hurt his feelings. That’s when the other trees began calling him Blue Bruce Spruce, because Bruce was not only a Blue Spruce, but was always feeling blue.
Many years had gone by since the cow stepped on him, and now Bruce was much taller than the other trees, because people looking for Christmas trees had selected most of the friends he had grown up with. A new generation of trees was now growing up around him. Bruce felt very much like an outcast and very much alone. His favorite story had become The Ugly Duckling. He hoped that someday, someone would find beauty when they looked at him.
Princess Sonja knew how much he wanted to be a beautiful Christmas tree. In the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty, he felt like that ugly duckling. She felt sorry for him but didn’t know what she could do to make him feel better. She hoped someone would come along this year and select Bruce for their tree.
As she was trying to find the right words to cheer Bruce up, several birds landed in his branches and started chatting with the White Dove. There was much joyous singing and Sonja listened carefully.
“We know Bruce is unhappy,” one said, “but we hope no one selects him for a Christmas tree again this year. What would we do when the cold winds and snow arrive this winter? Each winter, we’ve found shelter in his branches. He’s the only tree in the grove that has branches strong enough to hold all of us. The heavy snow coats his branches, providing a protective layer. We huddle together in the shelter of his branches and are able to survive the coldest nights. What will we do if Bruce leaves us? How will we survive?”
Sonja smiled. “Did you hear that?” she asked Bruce. “The birds need you. If you aren’t here, what will happen to them?”
“But Sonja, all my friends have left the grove to become Christmas trees in someone’s home. I hear people decorate them with wonderful lights and ornaments. Everyone proclaims how beautiful they are. No one has ever called me beautiful. They just make remarks about what an ugly tree I am. Just once in my life, I want people to say that I’m beautiful too. I bet even Charlie Brown wouldn’t pick me for his Christmas tree!”
Sonja thought for a few moments before answering. “Bruce, those friends of yours had one shining moment. Granted, they were all decked out for a short time and were beautiful. But that kind of beauty is fleeting, it doesn’t last forever. After Christmas, their useful life is done, and most are discarded on the curbs of the homes that chose them. You’re still here. You’re still alive. You’re still useful. The birds need you, and the animals that make their homes on the ground under your protective branches need you. You’re loved by all of them and you’re never alone.”
“I know that, Sonja. I’m glad I can provide shelter and protection for my feathered friends and animals, but just once I’d like to be all decked out in lights and feel beautiful.”
Bruce felt a little better after talking with Princess Sonja, but he still felt ugly, and knew there was nothing he could do to change his appearance. He would just have to try and change his attitude.
The mild weather of fall soon transitioned into the chilly days of early winter. The first snowflakes rode in on the cold winds of December and a blanket of snow soon covered the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. All thoughts turned to Christmas and people began arriving at Christmas Tree Lane to select their trees. Bruce kept hoping someone would stop and say, “That’s the tree I want this year.” But as usual, everyone passed him by, looking for the perfect tree.
The birds and animals that found shelter from the cold and wind among his branches, were glad that Bruce was still standing tall. Even in the cold weather, Bruce was so blue his sap was running. Princess Sonja couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to do something and she had a plan.
After gathering up all the items she would need, she sent the White Dove ahead to round up as many birds and animals as possible to help with brightening up the life of Blue Bruce Spruce. When Sonja arrived at Christmas Tree Lane everyone was excited and ready to go to work. The birds grabbed strings of lights and began wrapping them around Bruce. A Whitetail Deer family volunteered to pull and lay the extension cords to the nearby farm buildings where the owners of Christmas Tree Lane lived. It took many rolls of cord to reach from Bruce to the buildings, where they managed to plug the cord into an outside outlet. Then they hurried back to let Sonja know they had accomplished their mission.
Sonja and the birds had strung hundreds of lights on Bruce. They had added strands of shiny garland on his braches to help reflect the light. It was starting to get dark by the time they finished. Bruce had never been decked out with anything so fine. He was starting to feel better and his sap even quit running. All the birds and animals surrounded the tree at a distance, as Sonja plugged the strands of lights into the extension cord. Suddenly Bruce lit up like a Christmas tree and his light brightened the fading light. Everyone let out a collective gasp. The light snow that had begun to fall added to the scene. They had never seen a tree this beautiful before.
Cars traveling on Three Rock Chimney Road began to stop and people got out of their cars to admire the beautiful Christmas tree, standing tall, in the middle of Christmas Tree Lane. They all remarked that they had never seen such a beautiful tree. Some of the birds flew to where the cars were parked to see how Bruce looked from there. When they returned they told Bruce, Princess Sonja, and all the assembled birds and animals what the people were saying. Bruce was overflowing with pride and happiness. He had never felt so good and stood up even taller.
Now, every Christmas, Princess Sonja and Bruce’s friends decorate him. People come from all parts of the land to admire the most beautiful Christmas tree in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. Bruce is still a Blue Spruce, but no longer feels ugly and blue. He grows a little bigger each year and still provides shelter for his many friends during the entire year. Bruce has learned that beauty is fleeting, but a useful life, providing for others, far outshines the short time each year when everyone thinks he’s beautiful.
Life is very good on Sunshine Prairie in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty! May your life, wherever you find yourself, also be filled with beauty and life, and may you have a wonderful Christmas.
*
It was a beautiful fall day in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. Sunshine Prairie was awash in beauty and splendor from all the trees decked out in their finest fall colors. Butterflies were flitting from flower to flower, drinking in the finest nectar the kingdom had to offer before the flowers began to fade as colder weather arrived.
Princess Sonja sat among the flowers at the base of Three Rock Chimney. It was a great day to soak up some sun and find a little solitude from her job as the fairy princess in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. She was always being called upon to help someone with their problems. Sometimes, even a fairy princess needed to get away and enjoy some peace and quiet.
But things were not as peaceful as she had hoped. She sensed some tension and sadness in the air and it seemed to be coming from Christmas Tree Lane. The White Dove who had been resting atop Three Rock Chimney, flew down and landed on Princess Sonja’s shoulder. He whispered in Sonja’s ear. “I feel the sadness too,” she said. “Lets take a stroll over to Christmas Tree Lane and see what we can find.”
Sonja and the White Dove walked through the field of fading wild flowers, stopping occasionally to talk with a flower that greeted them as they passed. The beautiful day had all the flowers in a good mood, but even the flowers sensed that their days were numbered and that sadness was coming from the grove of Christmas trees.
As they entered Christmas Tree Lane, Sonja felt the sadness growing stronger. They followed the lane between the trees in the direction it was coming from. All the trees greeted them as they passed. Sonja had a feeling she already knew the problem. They finally came to the tallest tree in the grove. It was Bruce the Blue Spruce. Sonja greeted Bruce with a smile. “What’s wrong, Bruce, you seem bluer than usual today?”
“I know Sonja, but I can’t help it. They came yesterday, selecting trees that would be used for Christmas this year. I wasn’t selected again. I’m just a tree; I’ll never be a Christmas tree. Last week Jack and Jill came up the hill to find a place to be alone. They sat down where you are, took one look at me, and said, ‘Have you ever seen such an ugly tree.’ I tell you, it almost made my sap run.”
Sonja sat down in the shade next to Bruce, and the White Dove flew up and perched on one of his branches. He was in need of some love and positive reinforcement. Life had not been easy for Bruce. He had suffered many tragedies. In his early years, some cows in a pasture that bordered the field of young Christmas trees, were searching for greener grass on the other side of the fence. Several of them got out and came straight through the grove of young trees. One of the cows stepped on Bruce, breaking several of his limbs and leaving a very noticeable crink in his trunk. Rumor has it, the same cow was seen jumping over the moon that night, the same night that a dish ran away with a spoon. There were some really strange happenings that night, but that’s another story.
Back to that cow that stepped on Bruce. The farmer who owned the orchard considered ripping him out of the ground and planting a new tree in his place, but they must have forgotten about him after all the excitement of the cow jumping over the moon and that dish running off with the spoon. That same night three blind mice ran after the farmer’s wife and she ended up cutting off their tails with a carving knife. Have you ever seen such a sight in your life? After all the excitement, the farmer forgot all about Bruce and never came back that first year to replace him.
He managed to survive all his injuries, but was never the same. The older he became, the more noticeable his crooked trunk became. Several of his limbs never grew back and he ended up with a funny shape. He was not a beautiful tree. The owners even gave up trying to shape him into a Christmas tree, so his odd shape always stood out among the perfectly groomed trees. Each year he was bypassed when people came through selecting Christmas trees. Not only didn’t anyone select him, but several people would make snide remarks about how ugly he was and why didn’t someone just cut that tree down and get rid of it. Poor Bruce, the people didn’t know he could understand them and how much it hurt his feelings. That’s when the other trees began calling him Blue Bruce Spruce, because Bruce was not only a Blue Spruce, but was always feeling blue.
Many years had gone by since the cow stepped on him, and now Bruce was much taller than the other trees, because people looking for Christmas trees had selected most of the friends he had grown up with. A new generation of trees was now growing up around him. Bruce felt very much like an outcast and very much alone. His favorite story had become The Ugly Duckling. He hoped that someday, someone would find beauty when they looked at him.
Princess Sonja knew how much he wanted to be a beautiful Christmas tree. In the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty, he felt like that ugly duckling. She felt sorry for him but didn’t know what she could do to make him feel better. She hoped someone would come along this year and select Bruce for their tree.
As she was trying to find the right words to cheer Bruce up, several birds landed in his branches and started chatting with the White Dove. There was much joyous singing and Sonja listened carefully.
“We know Bruce is unhappy,” one said, “but we hope no one selects him for a Christmas tree again this year. What would we do when the cold winds and snow arrive this winter? Each winter, we’ve found shelter in his branches. He’s the only tree in the grove that has branches strong enough to hold all of us. The heavy snow coats his branches, providing a protective layer. We huddle together in the shelter of his branches and are able to survive the coldest nights. What will we do if Bruce leaves us? How will we survive?”
Sonja smiled. “Did you hear that?” she asked Bruce. “The birds need you. If you aren’t here, what will happen to them?”
“But Sonja, all my friends have left the grove to become Christmas trees in someone’s home. I hear people decorate them with wonderful lights and ornaments. Everyone proclaims how beautiful they are. No one has ever called me beautiful. They just make remarks about what an ugly tree I am. Just once in my life, I want people to say that I’m beautiful too. I bet even Charlie Brown wouldn’t pick me for his Christmas tree!”
Sonja thought for a few moments before answering. “Bruce, those friends of yours had one shining moment. Granted, they were all decked out for a short time and were beautiful. But that kind of beauty is fleeting, it doesn’t last forever. After Christmas, their useful life is done, and most are discarded on the curbs of the homes that chose them. You’re still here. You’re still alive. You’re still useful. The birds need you, and the animals that make their homes on the ground under your protective branches need you. You’re loved by all of them and you’re never alone.”
“I know that, Sonja. I’m glad I can provide shelter and protection for my feathered friends and animals, but just once I’d like to be all decked out in lights and feel beautiful.”
Bruce felt a little better after talking with Princess Sonja, but he still felt ugly, and knew there was nothing he could do to change his appearance. He would just have to try and change his attitude.
The mild weather of fall soon transitioned into the chilly days of early winter. The first snowflakes rode in on the cold winds of December and a blanket of snow soon covered the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. All thoughts turned to Christmas and people began arriving at Christmas Tree Lane to select their trees. Bruce kept hoping someone would stop and say, “That’s the tree I want this year.” But as usual, everyone passed him by, looking for the perfect tree.
The birds and animals that found shelter from the cold and wind among his branches, were glad that Bruce was still standing tall. Even in the cold weather, Bruce was so blue his sap was running. Princess Sonja couldn’t stand it any longer. She had to do something and she had a plan.
After gathering up all the items she would need, she sent the White Dove ahead to round up as many birds and animals as possible to help with brightening up the life of Blue Bruce Spruce. When Sonja arrived at Christmas Tree Lane everyone was excited and ready to go to work. The birds grabbed strings of lights and began wrapping them around Bruce. A Whitetail Deer family volunteered to pull and lay the extension cords to the nearby farm buildings where the owners of Christmas Tree Lane lived. It took many rolls of cord to reach from Bruce to the buildings, where they managed to plug the cord into an outside outlet. Then they hurried back to let Sonja know they had accomplished their mission.
Sonja and the birds had strung hundreds of lights on Bruce. They had added strands of shiny garland on his braches to help reflect the light. It was starting to get dark by the time they finished. Bruce had never been decked out with anything so fine. He was starting to feel better and his sap even quit running. All the birds and animals surrounded the tree at a distance, as Sonja plugged the strands of lights into the extension cord. Suddenly Bruce lit up like a Christmas tree and his light brightened the fading light. Everyone let out a collective gasp. The light snow that had begun to fall added to the scene. They had never seen a tree this beautiful before.
Cars traveling on Three Rock Chimney Road began to stop and people got out of their cars to admire the beautiful Christmas tree, standing tall, in the middle of Christmas Tree Lane. They all remarked that they had never seen such a beautiful tree. Some of the birds flew to where the cars were parked to see how Bruce looked from there. When they returned they told Bruce, Princess Sonja, and all the assembled birds and animals what the people were saying. Bruce was overflowing with pride and happiness. He had never felt so good and stood up even taller.
Now, every Christmas, Princess Sonja and Bruce’s friends decorate him. People come from all parts of the land to admire the most beautiful Christmas tree in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty. Bruce is still a Blue Spruce, but no longer feels ugly and blue. He grows a little bigger each year and still provides shelter for his many friends during the entire year. Bruce has learned that beauty is fleeting, but a useful life, providing for others, far outshines the short time each year when everyone thinks he’s beautiful.
Life is very good on Sunshine Prairie in the Kingdom of Driftless Beauty! May your life, wherever you find yourself, also be filled with beauty and life, and may you have a wonderful Christmas.
*
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Santa Is Definitely A Woman
Across the Fence #370
The ground is bare and there’s no snow in sight around Sherpeland. The past few years we’ve been buried in snow by this time. Unless things change in the next week, I fear Santa will have a hard time with his deliveries in this area. But then, he never seems to have any problems in the southern parts of the country, so I don’t think I have anything to worry about.
I know this is just the calm before the storm, but to tell the truth, I could get used to winters like this. It’s nice not having to put on five layers of clothes, boots, heavy gloves, and a double-layer stocking cap, just to walk to the end of the driveway and get the mail. Last year I even had to resort to using my snowshoes to get to the bird feeders. I got tired of opening a path every day, only to have the wind drift it shut as fast as I could blow it out.
Put it this way, I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas. I’ll let Bing dream about that. When I was young, I’d have been entering panic mode if there was no snow this close to Christmas. I still have vivid memories of listening to the radio on Christmas Eve as they gave reports on the sightings and progress of Santa and his reindeer. As they got closer, it was time to set out a plate of Norwegian baked goods for Santa. Everyone who stopped at our house was fed and given coffee, even Santa. Although Ma left a glass of milk instead of coffee, because she said the coffee would be cold by the time Santa arrived, and not even Santa liked cold coffee. We even left some carrots for the reindeer. They get hungry too, pulling the heavy sleigh, Santa, and all the presents.
Christmas is an exciting time for children. We need to retain some of that childhood magic of Christmas as we get older.
In Ben Logan’s wonderful book, “Christmas Remembered,” he has a story called “Santa Claus Is a Woman.” He tells how his family all waited around for someone to make Christmas happen that first winter after his mother had died. He remembered that Christmas was a casualty of her death.
Ben and I have talked about that story and the feelings he had as a 17-year-old boy whose mother was no longer there to make Christmas happen. It got me thinking about my mother and how important she was to our family at Christmas. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was Santa Claus, just as Ben Logan said his mother was in his story.
Our father bought the tree and set it up in the stand, but that’s usually where the role of most men ended in making Christmas happen. Then the women took over. Ma brought down the boxes of lights and ornaments that were stored in the upstairs walk-in attic. She strung the bubble lights, hung the ornaments with the help of us kids, and let us put the icicles on the tree. When we got older and could reach, we got to put the angel on top of the tree. That was a special job. She then opened the red, folded paper bells, fanned them out to form a bell shape, and hung them from a door. I haven’t seen one of those bells since I was young.
When the tree was ready, she decorated the house, hand-addressed and wrote on all the Christmas cards, baked all the Christmas cookies and other Norwegian goodies, and bought and wrapped the presents. The house came alive with the Christmas spirit when she was done.
When I was young and still believed in Santa, it was Ma who comforted me and reassured me that Santa was real and would still bring presents after Sandy told me there was no Santa Claus. Just because we didn’t have a fireplace was no reason for Santa to skip our house. He could always use our front door that was never locked. And no, he wouldn’t get burned up in our wood-burning stove if he came down the chimney. Santa had magical powers and could even make himself small enough to squeeze through the damper in the stovepipe. I couldn’t understand how he could also squeeze his bag and our presents through there, but he always did. He ate all the cookies and drank the milk we left for him too.
Yes, the women have always made Christmas happen. My mother turned the rituals of the season into memories that I still carry and bring to life again each Christmas season.
I know all the pictures we see of Santa show a large man in a red, fur-lined suit, with a bushy, white beard. But tell me this, have any of you ever seen the “real” Santa on Christmas Eve? Not just those Santa’s helpers that you see in the malls. We never saw him, but he always showed up after we had finally fallen asleep. I’m willing to bet, that if we had been lucky enough to catch even a fleeting glimpse of Santa, it would have been a small, thin, woman wearing an apron, and bearing a striking resemblance to my mother.
It’s just like Ben Logan said, “Santa Clause Is a Woman!”
*
The ground is bare and there’s no snow in sight around Sherpeland. The past few years we’ve been buried in snow by this time. Unless things change in the next week, I fear Santa will have a hard time with his deliveries in this area. But then, he never seems to have any problems in the southern parts of the country, so I don’t think I have anything to worry about.
I know this is just the calm before the storm, but to tell the truth, I could get used to winters like this. It’s nice not having to put on five layers of clothes, boots, heavy gloves, and a double-layer stocking cap, just to walk to the end of the driveway and get the mail. Last year I even had to resort to using my snowshoes to get to the bird feeders. I got tired of opening a path every day, only to have the wind drift it shut as fast as I could blow it out.
Put it this way, I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas. I’ll let Bing dream about that. When I was young, I’d have been entering panic mode if there was no snow this close to Christmas. I still have vivid memories of listening to the radio on Christmas Eve as they gave reports on the sightings and progress of Santa and his reindeer. As they got closer, it was time to set out a plate of Norwegian baked goods for Santa. Everyone who stopped at our house was fed and given coffee, even Santa. Although Ma left a glass of milk instead of coffee, because she said the coffee would be cold by the time Santa arrived, and not even Santa liked cold coffee. We even left some carrots for the reindeer. They get hungry too, pulling the heavy sleigh, Santa, and all the presents.
Christmas is an exciting time for children. We need to retain some of that childhood magic of Christmas as we get older.
In Ben Logan’s wonderful book, “Christmas Remembered,” he has a story called “Santa Claus Is a Woman.” He tells how his family all waited around for someone to make Christmas happen that first winter after his mother had died. He remembered that Christmas was a casualty of her death.
Ben and I have talked about that story and the feelings he had as a 17-year-old boy whose mother was no longer there to make Christmas happen. It got me thinking about my mother and how important she was to our family at Christmas. We didn’t know it at the time, but she was Santa Claus, just as Ben Logan said his mother was in his story.
Our father bought the tree and set it up in the stand, but that’s usually where the role of most men ended in making Christmas happen. Then the women took over. Ma brought down the boxes of lights and ornaments that were stored in the upstairs walk-in attic. She strung the bubble lights, hung the ornaments with the help of us kids, and let us put the icicles on the tree. When we got older and could reach, we got to put the angel on top of the tree. That was a special job. She then opened the red, folded paper bells, fanned them out to form a bell shape, and hung them from a door. I haven’t seen one of those bells since I was young.
When the tree was ready, she decorated the house, hand-addressed and wrote on all the Christmas cards, baked all the Christmas cookies and other Norwegian goodies, and bought and wrapped the presents. The house came alive with the Christmas spirit when she was done.
When I was young and still believed in Santa, it was Ma who comforted me and reassured me that Santa was real and would still bring presents after Sandy told me there was no Santa Claus. Just because we didn’t have a fireplace was no reason for Santa to skip our house. He could always use our front door that was never locked. And no, he wouldn’t get burned up in our wood-burning stove if he came down the chimney. Santa had magical powers and could even make himself small enough to squeeze through the damper in the stovepipe. I couldn’t understand how he could also squeeze his bag and our presents through there, but he always did. He ate all the cookies and drank the milk we left for him too.
Yes, the women have always made Christmas happen. My mother turned the rituals of the season into memories that I still carry and bring to life again each Christmas season.
I know all the pictures we see of Santa show a large man in a red, fur-lined suit, with a bushy, white beard. But tell me this, have any of you ever seen the “real” Santa on Christmas Eve? Not just those Santa’s helpers that you see in the malls. We never saw him, but he always showed up after we had finally fallen asleep. I’m willing to bet, that if we had been lucky enough to catch even a fleeting glimpse of Santa, it would have been a small, thin, woman wearing an apron, and bearing a striking resemblance to my mother.
It’s just like Ben Logan said, “Santa Clause Is a Woman!”
*
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Sandy and Christmas Memories
Across the Fence #369
What’s your earliest memory of Christmas? Looking way back, my first memory of Christmas is hoeing tobacco with my cousin, Sandy. I couldn’t have been very old, because I still believed in Santa Claus. Sandy, being three years older and wiser when it came to the mysteries of the universe, suddenly dropped a grenade at my feet that literally blew my world apart that day.
Even though it was a hot summer day, our conversation had turned to Christmas and Santa. Sandy suddenly proclaimed, “There is NO Santa Claus, Uncle and Auntie are Santa Claus.” You can imagine my horror at hearing such a blasphemous statement. In that moment my world started collapsing around me and the sky began falling. If you have my second book, “Across the Fence: Down Country Roads,” you can read the full story on page 131.
Thank goodness my mother came up with answers to all the questions that Sandy had brought up. They were such great answers, I still believe in Santa today! I guess you couldn’t see me wink as I wrote that line.
But, is it any wonder that I remembered where I was and what I was doing at such a moment. It’s just like we remember where we were when President Kennedy was shot, and when the attacks on 9-11 occurred. Traumatic experiences always leave an imprint on our memories.
Many years after that traumatic experience in the tobacco field, Sandy and I found ourselves alone, and far from home and our families, during Christmas in 1965. I was in basic training in the army at Fort Lewis, Washington. We were halfway through basic and weren’t allowed to go home for Christmas. It was like we were in prison and it’s not one of my best Christmas memories. Not only were we “prisoners” during Christmas and New Years, but it was a zero week–it didn’t count since it was holiday time for most personnel who weren’t in basic. That meant we’d spend an extra week in basic training.
On Christmas Eve day it snowed and rained while we were marching all morning. It was really miserable and we got soaked. The snow didn’t stay on the ground. It just turned to slush and our white Christmas quickly disappeared.
That evening we were marched in formation, to and from the Christmas Eve service at one of the chapels on the base. That’s about the only thing that reminded us that it was Christmas. What a joke. I remember how sad everyone was as we sat through that service. It was the saddest Christmas I’ve ever spent. It was even worse than spending Christmas in Vietnam.
On Christmas day, the sergeants let us sleep in until 0600. That was late for us. After pushups and pull-ups we got to eat breakfast. Then we were herded back to our barracks and ordered to GI and spit-shine the barracks and latrines. When everything was to the Sergeant’s liking, I got to march our platoon around our company area for police call. After that we got to stay in our barracks and take it easy until noon.
Sandy was also at Fort Lewis during this time. We weren’t allowed to make or receive phone calls during basic training, so I wasn’t able to see or talk with her. Her husband, Lou Wagner, was an officer with the 1st Cav Division. They had trained at Fort Lewis before being shipped to Vietnam, where he was spending that Christmas, far from home and his family. Sandy and other wives were living on post while their husbands were gone. This is what Sandy later wrote about that Christmas day:
“When Karl (their son) was five months old, Lou’s company shipped out for Vietnam and I stayed on post with Karl. Howard was at Fort Lewis for basic training at that time. Lou was in Vietnam, it was Christmas, I was alone, and wanted very much to spend some time with my cousin. For some reason, the basic trainees were not allowed any visitors. After some serious phone calls, tears, and threats, I was finally able to spend some time with Howard on Christmas day. That was a real sad time for both of us. Seeing each other for a short time, was the only bright spot in that Christmas season.”
I did get to see Sandy for a short visit that afternoon. After being told on the phone that she couldn’t see me, she came to Battalion Headquarters and talked to the O.D. (Officer of the Day), and explained that her husband was in Vietnam and I was the only relative she had around. She said she also shed some crocodile tears for him. The O.D. finally relented, and gave her permission to see me for a short time in a conference room. An armed guard came to our barracks and I was escorted by him to where Sandy was. He stayed with us while we got to visit for about fifteen minutes, and then he escorted me back to my barracks–a distance of about one block! That night we got to watch training films about the Vietnam War.
I echo Sandy’s words, seeing each other for a short time, was the only bright spot in that Christmas season. Santa brought us a great gift that day… a short visit. Even Sandy had to believe in him after that.
*
What’s your earliest memory of Christmas? Looking way back, my first memory of Christmas is hoeing tobacco with my cousin, Sandy. I couldn’t have been very old, because I still believed in Santa Claus. Sandy, being three years older and wiser when it came to the mysteries of the universe, suddenly dropped a grenade at my feet that literally blew my world apart that day.
Even though it was a hot summer day, our conversation had turned to Christmas and Santa. Sandy suddenly proclaimed, “There is NO Santa Claus, Uncle and Auntie are Santa Claus.” You can imagine my horror at hearing such a blasphemous statement. In that moment my world started collapsing around me and the sky began falling. If you have my second book, “Across the Fence: Down Country Roads,” you can read the full story on page 131.
Thank goodness my mother came up with answers to all the questions that Sandy had brought up. They were such great answers, I still believe in Santa today! I guess you couldn’t see me wink as I wrote that line.
But, is it any wonder that I remembered where I was and what I was doing at such a moment. It’s just like we remember where we were when President Kennedy was shot, and when the attacks on 9-11 occurred. Traumatic experiences always leave an imprint on our memories.
Many years after that traumatic experience in the tobacco field, Sandy and I found ourselves alone, and far from home and our families, during Christmas in 1965. I was in basic training in the army at Fort Lewis, Washington. We were halfway through basic and weren’t allowed to go home for Christmas. It was like we were in prison and it’s not one of my best Christmas memories. Not only were we “prisoners” during Christmas and New Years, but it was a zero week–it didn’t count since it was holiday time for most personnel who weren’t in basic. That meant we’d spend an extra week in basic training.
On Christmas Eve day it snowed and rained while we were marching all morning. It was really miserable and we got soaked. The snow didn’t stay on the ground. It just turned to slush and our white Christmas quickly disappeared.
That evening we were marched in formation, to and from the Christmas Eve service at one of the chapels on the base. That’s about the only thing that reminded us that it was Christmas. What a joke. I remember how sad everyone was as we sat through that service. It was the saddest Christmas I’ve ever spent. It was even worse than spending Christmas in Vietnam.
On Christmas day, the sergeants let us sleep in until 0600. That was late for us. After pushups and pull-ups we got to eat breakfast. Then we were herded back to our barracks and ordered to GI and spit-shine the barracks and latrines. When everything was to the Sergeant’s liking, I got to march our platoon around our company area for police call. After that we got to stay in our barracks and take it easy until noon.
Sandy was also at Fort Lewis during this time. We weren’t allowed to make or receive phone calls during basic training, so I wasn’t able to see or talk with her. Her husband, Lou Wagner, was an officer with the 1st Cav Division. They had trained at Fort Lewis before being shipped to Vietnam, where he was spending that Christmas, far from home and his family. Sandy and other wives were living on post while their husbands were gone. This is what Sandy later wrote about that Christmas day:
“When Karl (their son) was five months old, Lou’s company shipped out for Vietnam and I stayed on post with Karl. Howard was at Fort Lewis for basic training at that time. Lou was in Vietnam, it was Christmas, I was alone, and wanted very much to spend some time with my cousin. For some reason, the basic trainees were not allowed any visitors. After some serious phone calls, tears, and threats, I was finally able to spend some time with Howard on Christmas day. That was a real sad time for both of us. Seeing each other for a short time, was the only bright spot in that Christmas season.”
I did get to see Sandy for a short visit that afternoon. After being told on the phone that she couldn’t see me, she came to Battalion Headquarters and talked to the O.D. (Officer of the Day), and explained that her husband was in Vietnam and I was the only relative she had around. She said she also shed some crocodile tears for him. The O.D. finally relented, and gave her permission to see me for a short time in a conference room. An armed guard came to our barracks and I was escorted by him to where Sandy was. He stayed with us while we got to visit for about fifteen minutes, and then he escorted me back to my barracks–a distance of about one block! That night we got to watch training films about the Vietnam War.
I echo Sandy’s words, seeing each other for a short time, was the only bright spot in that Christmas season. Santa brought us a great gift that day… a short visit. Even Sandy had to believe in him after that.
*
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Thanksgiving Leftovers Are Great
Across the Fence #368
Now it begins, that month of anticipation between Thanksgiving and Christmas. As I write this, I’m still as stuffed as the huge turkey our family met up with on Thanksgiving. We were at our daughter and son-in-law’s home near Ixonia, and we certainly didn’t starve. Now we’ve entered the second phase of Thanksgiving—enjoying all the leftovers.
I’ve never been accused of being a great cook, or even a mediocre one. My cooking ability is heating up the charcoal grill, throwing on some hamburger patties or brats, and making sure they don’t get burned to a crisp. I’m not the second coming of Julia Childs.
However, I do have a great recipe for all those leftovers from the big Thanksgiving meal. Dig through your cupboards and find a large microwavable bowl with a cover. Take some of the leftover potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, chunks of turkey, a large helping of stuffing, and grab anything else that looks appetizing. Throw everything into the bowl. Don’t worry about stuff getting mixed together. As you can see, I’m not a picky eater. You might want to leave the cranberry relish and herring out for the time being. They don’t mix very well with the other ingredients. The cranberries tend to turn to juice when heated.
Put a cover on the bowl and shove it into the microwave. The microwave is my preferred method of heating stuff up. The amount of time you heat the concoction is up to you, depending how hot you like your food. When you think it’s hot enough, take it out of the microwave. Remove the cover and sample the mix to see if it’s heated to your satisfaction. If it is, dump the cranberries, herring, and some pickles into the mix, grab a fork, and eat right out of the bowl. That’s if you’re eating it all by yourself. If you have to share, it’s best to scoop some onto a plate. If you get to eat right out of the bowl, you’ll have a lot less dishes to wash up after you’re done. Why use a bunch of bowls when you can get by with one? Next, find a football game to watch on TV, take that bowl you heated everything in, grab some lefse, a beverage of your choice, sit back in your favorite recliner, put your feet up, and enjoy your great meal of leftovers! I hope you had a little pumpkin pie and sweet potato pie left over like we did. As they say at Borgen’s Café in Westby, “Don’t forget the pie!”
I know all this probably sounds like a mess to you. Granted, it’s all mushed together, but it tastes great, and it’s all going to the same place anyway. OK, I told you I wasn’t the next Julia Childs. It’s not for everyone.
Even before the leftovers had cooled down, Black Friday arrived. I hope none of you were part of those frenzied mob scenes I saw on TV, as shoppers stormed the doors, trampling each other in their hurry for a bargain. You couldn’t drag me to a store with a team of horses on Black Friday. I’m enjoying my leftovers as people are fighting with each other and pepper spraying other shoppers in order to snag that coveted item. I keep hearing how bad shape the economy is in, but you’d never know it by the way people were spending money.
Then just when you think the buying frenzy is over, along comes Cyber Monday. In case you missed out on the bargains on Black Friday because you got trampled or pepper sprayed, you can now sit in the comfort of your home and shop online. No traffic jams, no parking problems, no masses of people to contend with. I wonder if they ever had this kind of buying frenzy in my parent’s generation? I suspect not. I know they always shopped locally in Westby and Viroqua for our Christmas presents. There was a “Dime Store” in Viroqua. I can still remember how awe-struck I was when I saw all the toys on their shelves during Christmas. Looking back, it amounted to one small section of the store, but we thought it was wonderful. We’d probably have died of shock if we could have walked into a huge Toys-R-Us store like they have today.
Another of the happenings after Thanksgiving is over, is the hanging of the Christmas lights and decorations. I know the stores have been decorated since Halloween, but that’s just too early.
Now I’m about to begin an early phase of Christmas—the untangling of the strings of lights. It’s a yearly tradition in most homes. No matter how carefully you put them away, they manage to get all tangled up. Then after I manage to get them untangled, I find out the lights won’t light up. You’d think I’d learn to test them before spending all that time untangling them.
Soon the first Christmas card will arrive. Then I’ll start feeling guilty about not having my cards all picked out, addressed, and ready to send.
There’s only one solution to all this holiday stress. Round up another helping of Thanksgiving leftovers, throw them in the microwave, find a station airing White Christmas with Bing Crosby, then sit back and enjoy those leftovers while watching the movie. Christmas will come soon enough!
*
Now it begins, that month of anticipation between Thanksgiving and Christmas. As I write this, I’m still as stuffed as the huge turkey our family met up with on Thanksgiving. We were at our daughter and son-in-law’s home near Ixonia, and we certainly didn’t starve. Now we’ve entered the second phase of Thanksgiving—enjoying all the leftovers.
I’ve never been accused of being a great cook, or even a mediocre one. My cooking ability is heating up the charcoal grill, throwing on some hamburger patties or brats, and making sure they don’t get burned to a crisp. I’m not the second coming of Julia Childs.
However, I do have a great recipe for all those leftovers from the big Thanksgiving meal. Dig through your cupboards and find a large microwavable bowl with a cover. Take some of the leftover potatoes, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, chunks of turkey, a large helping of stuffing, and grab anything else that looks appetizing. Throw everything into the bowl. Don’t worry about stuff getting mixed together. As you can see, I’m not a picky eater. You might want to leave the cranberry relish and herring out for the time being. They don’t mix very well with the other ingredients. The cranberries tend to turn to juice when heated.
Put a cover on the bowl and shove it into the microwave. The microwave is my preferred method of heating stuff up. The amount of time you heat the concoction is up to you, depending how hot you like your food. When you think it’s hot enough, take it out of the microwave. Remove the cover and sample the mix to see if it’s heated to your satisfaction. If it is, dump the cranberries, herring, and some pickles into the mix, grab a fork, and eat right out of the bowl. That’s if you’re eating it all by yourself. If you have to share, it’s best to scoop some onto a plate. If you get to eat right out of the bowl, you’ll have a lot less dishes to wash up after you’re done. Why use a bunch of bowls when you can get by with one? Next, find a football game to watch on TV, take that bowl you heated everything in, grab some lefse, a beverage of your choice, sit back in your favorite recliner, put your feet up, and enjoy your great meal of leftovers! I hope you had a little pumpkin pie and sweet potato pie left over like we did. As they say at Borgen’s Café in Westby, “Don’t forget the pie!”
I know all this probably sounds like a mess to you. Granted, it’s all mushed together, but it tastes great, and it’s all going to the same place anyway. OK, I told you I wasn’t the next Julia Childs. It’s not for everyone.
Even before the leftovers had cooled down, Black Friday arrived. I hope none of you were part of those frenzied mob scenes I saw on TV, as shoppers stormed the doors, trampling each other in their hurry for a bargain. You couldn’t drag me to a store with a team of horses on Black Friday. I’m enjoying my leftovers as people are fighting with each other and pepper spraying other shoppers in order to snag that coveted item. I keep hearing how bad shape the economy is in, but you’d never know it by the way people were spending money.
Then just when you think the buying frenzy is over, along comes Cyber Monday. In case you missed out on the bargains on Black Friday because you got trampled or pepper sprayed, you can now sit in the comfort of your home and shop online. No traffic jams, no parking problems, no masses of people to contend with. I wonder if they ever had this kind of buying frenzy in my parent’s generation? I suspect not. I know they always shopped locally in Westby and Viroqua for our Christmas presents. There was a “Dime Store” in Viroqua. I can still remember how awe-struck I was when I saw all the toys on their shelves during Christmas. Looking back, it amounted to one small section of the store, but we thought it was wonderful. We’d probably have died of shock if we could have walked into a huge Toys-R-Us store like they have today.
Another of the happenings after Thanksgiving is over, is the hanging of the Christmas lights and decorations. I know the stores have been decorated since Halloween, but that’s just too early.
Now I’m about to begin an early phase of Christmas—the untangling of the strings of lights. It’s a yearly tradition in most homes. No matter how carefully you put them away, they manage to get all tangled up. Then after I manage to get them untangled, I find out the lights won’t light up. You’d think I’d learn to test them before spending all that time untangling them.
Soon the first Christmas card will arrive. Then I’ll start feeling guilty about not having my cards all picked out, addressed, and ready to send.
There’s only one solution to all this holiday stress. Round up another helping of Thanksgiving leftovers, throw them in the microwave, find a station airing White Christmas with Bing Crosby, then sit back and enjoy those leftovers while watching the movie. Christmas will come soon enough!
*
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