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Fun Times
This week is the Dells Wo-Zha-Wa festival. Wo-Zha-Wa is a Ho-Chunk phrase which means having fun. It’s a popular time for locals to connect with old friends, for tourists to visit the Dells, and for everyone to celebrate the beginning of September and maybe even find a few deals downtown. Early in my husband’s and my marriage, we were most drawn to the festival’s antique flea market. We bought our dining room table and hutch there. Lately, I find the arts and crafts more appealing, and I plan on searching for Christmas gifts this weekend. I also enjoy the Wo-Zha-Wa…
What I Miss About Back to School
It’s back to school time, and I feel a wistful twinge as I wander down the school supply section of Walmart. I’ve been retired for almost a decade, but old habits die hard, and I add a packet of lined paper to my cart. I started teaching in 1975. Back then, before technological advances and our efforts to “go green,” we consumed a lot of paper. Teachers used a ditto machine to run off worksheets. I can still recall the smell of ditto fluid and how our hands got purple if we touched the still wet ink. Along with…
A Northwoods Gathering
I awoke early at our Northwoods cabin and walked outside to let my four pet ducks out of their pen. I nicknamed them the “Dabblers” after I brought them to the lake for the first time and they ignored the pretty lily-pad laden lake, choosing to play in a puddle instead. The Dabblers happily splashed in the water and pecked at the grassy bottom where they found insects, rootlets, and plant seeds. They occasionally glanced up to check where I was and to give me a contented gabble. I’ve raised pet ducks for many years and the Dabblers are among…
The Passionate Spirit
A friend who wrote and illustrated children’s books, Marsha Dunlap, died after a long battle with cancer. One of the first times I met Marsha was during a blinding snowstorm. A small group of us had rented a bed and breakfast and hired an award winning author, Marion Dane Bauer, to critique our work and share writing techniques. Despite the weather, we were not going to miss this opportunity. My friend Eileen and I drove together, peering through the whiteout at the unfamiliar roads. We shook our heads. We’re crazy, we both agreed. Schools had closed early, the radio reported…
Regrets of the Dying
My father dreamed of going elk hunting out west. He worked at least 40-hour weeks at American Motors and maintained a huge garden so finding the time (and extra cash) was a strug-gle. Dad occasionally took time for himself to hunt or fish, but at age 55 he was diagnosed with colon cancer. He died three months later, never having achieved his dream to elk hunt. Bronnie Ware, a nurse from Australia who took care of patients in their last three to twelve weeks of life, wrote a book called “The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.” She shares pa-tients’…
A Treasure Box of Memories
My treasure box, the size of a loaf of bread, used to belong to my mother who called it her jewelry box. For as far back as I can remember, it sat on her dresser. Now it sits on mine. I suspect you have a treasure box, too. It might be your dad’s tackle box, your grandpa’s tool chest, an odds and ends container, or a jewelry box. My wooden treasure box with its inlaid scenic landscape picture on the top is so full it no longer closes. I dump everything out on the dining room table. It’s time to…
4th of July Gratitude
Earlier this week I buckled on a fanny pack so my phone would be safe during my bike ride. I set out and enjoyed cruising on a remote country road with rolling hills. I continued onto Highway O and headed north so I could view the scenic Baraboo bluffs. Pedaling along, I enjoyed the smell of clover fields and the calls of the red-winged blackbirds. As I zipped down a steep hill, I reveled in the exhilarating feeling of the wind rushing against my face. It’s moments like this that I count my blessings and feel lucky to be alive.…
Wait, Watch, Hope
This spring I was anxious to arrive at our northern Wisconsin cabin to see if the orphaned gosling we raised and released last year had returned. Last fall, after Gertie still hadn’t found a buddy, my husband and I dropped her off in central Wisconsin where thousands of geese congregated. She’d be able to choose whether to stay with a flock that migrated or with one that over-wintered. If she chose to migrate, there was a small chance in the spring she’d return to the cabin lake. She had spent more time there than in the Dells, and it’s where…