Faribault Connections

The best part of going to visit a friend, particularly if that friend lives somewhere you've never been before, is having a built-in tour guide. When I went to visit Patt at Memorial Day, I couldn't wait to have a guided tour of the Faribault, Minnesota area. I have to say that if I colored in the counties in Minnesota where I'd actually spent time, Rice County would not have been colored in, even in part. I had never been that way at all.

There are a lot of reasons to visit. There is a lovely nature center, River Bend Nature Center, along the outskirts of the town. We only drove through it. The phlox were in bloom when I was visiting and some areas adjacent to the road were awash in pink, lavender and white.

The inventor of the carnival staple, the Tilt-a-Whirl, lived in Faribault and invented the ride in 1926. They have an original car which is being restored and will be placed in the downtown area. I think that's my favorite ride.

You may know the downtown from the movie "Grumpy Old Men".

Main street and the drug store from the beginning of the movie were Faribault. I have to admit that I haven't seen the movie in many years so it's on the list of things to watch again, now that I've driven through the town. The Tilt-a-Whirl is going to the left of the intersection in this photo.

Faribault has taken great pride of place. They had a movie theatre. Most towns their size had one. In an effort to keep it functional, it was subdivided into a multi-plex. But that couldn't save it. A merger of the Faribault Arts Center and the Faribault Community Theater created the Paradise Center for the Arts in the old theater. It is a gem in the downtown, staging plays and concerts at very reasonable prices. Cultural opportunities make a town more attractive to people.

And there is a Chicago connection to Faribault, one I didn't know about.

This is the entrance to the elite and very private boarding school, Shattuck-St. Mary's. Driving under the arch catapulted you into a world of old buildings or buildings designed to look old. The campus is very reminiscent of an English college. Shattuck is known for engineering, bioscience, and the arts. Marlon Brando was kicked out of Shattuck. Broadcaster Brent Musburger is a graduate.

Another claim to fame figured into this year's Stanley Cup.

The team captain of the Chicago Blackhawk's, Jonathan Toews, went to school at Shattuck. They excel in golf, soccer, figure skating and hockey. I counted at least 8 current and former National Hockey League players who learned their craft at Shattuck.

I never would have known any of this had I not had a personal guide. It's amazing to me the things a small town has hidden amongst the trees and rolling hills. It makes me want to explore more of the small towns I travel through on my journeys. I actually paid more attention to the Stanley Cup finals knowing of this connection than I would have. Hockey? Meh. Hockey with a visceral connection to where Patt lives? Okay.

Beverage:  Dr Pepper

Deb

27 Years and Counting

I've seen a lot of articles, particularly today, as it's Best Friends Day, about making and keeping friends. There are any number of studies about how having friends lengthens and enriches one's life.

It can be hard to make friends, particularly as you age. You find, that as you go through life, the circles of people you wander into and out of are not all your same age. When everyone in group chat in my World of Warcraft guild is young enough to be my child, it's tough to relate to them as friends. The first time someone asked me if I remembered seeing news footage of Vietnam on TV, I was kind of taken aback. I do remember that. They only knew it from history books or the movies. So, when you find someone who is a friend, you hang onto them.

We "met", her and I, because I was editing a railroad historical publication and she wrote an article about how the town she was living in at the time, preserved and reused their railroad depot, long after the railroad ceased running through town. I enjoyed reading something written by a woman who obviously knew her way around the English language. I was used to men picking up a piece of paper and writing anything down that came to their mind, then getting roasted because I put the memories into some semblance of order and they felt affronted someone would dare to edit them. She had a couple of boys in school. I had a daughter. Our first letters, after publication of the article, were about language. She worked in a newspaper. I did freelance proofreading and was a room mom. That was twenty-seven years ago.

You know a friend is going to be a friend when something just clicks. We've been through weddings, births and deaths. We've been through divorces and adoptions and moving and job changes. We went through the rise of computer correspondence. When we started writing, we either wrote our letters long-hand or typed them on a typewriter. The computer made it easier to write letters, although I really need to replace my printer so I'm not printing my letters at work. We still send each other long letters detailing the ups and downs of life.

The funny thing is, we had never met. We were pen pals of the best sort. We lived "close", in that it didn't take an airplane ride to get to each other. Her husband had a sister who lived in Gary, Indiana, until she passed away a couple years ago. They couldn't stop on the way to or from the funeral. It was the closest to each other we had ever been. Three years ago, I was going to drive to her current home in Faribault, Minnesota, but finances, at the last minute, didn't permit it. It was always in the back of my mind that I had to get out there, I just had to.

Finally, over Memorial Day, I made it. Heavy rains could not stop me. I saved for this event and I drove to Faribault. Finally, I met Patt.

It wasn't like meeting someone new. We sat on the porch, in the 3 season room I'd heard so much about, and talked and talked, just like we did in our letters. We know everything about each other. We know our dreams. We know our hopes for our kids and for ourselves. She is the warm, wonderful woman I know from 27 years of letters. I don't always sleep real well the first night in a different bed than my own but I slept soundly all three nights I was there. It was a real sleep of peace.

I got the tour of Faribault and Northfield. Patt made wonderful suppers and I saw "Frozen" for the first time. We also watched "Still Alice" and "Saving Mr. Banks". We talked. I did cross-stitching. I had one of the most peaceful vacations I've had in awhile. We didn't have an agenda. We didn't need one. It was two friends, who have known each other going on 3 decades, just being in each other's presence. Three decades. That's a very long time.

Sometimes there are days when I wish I had more friends close to my age close to my house. I tend to be a private person and it can be hard to open up to the extent that allows a friendship to form. When you do that, you risk rejection and, let's face it, being rejected for who you are or aren't is painful. Then I realize I have someone in my life who knows me and likes me, warts and all. We didn't need to meet. We'd still be friends even if I hadn't come up to see her. But my life is so much more enriched having spent time with Patt.

I hope, when you're my age, you, too have someone who has been there for 27 years and counting. Here's to 27+ more.

Beverage:  Dr Pepper

Deb

A Change in the Weather

"You don't like the weather, wait 10 minutes. It will change."

This comment was one of the first things I heard when I moved to Chicagoland. Lake Michigan influences the weather patterns in this area. But, I'm very familiar with changeable weather. Growing up on an Iowa farm, we watched the weather systems come from the west and southwest in the summer and the north and northwest in the winter. I'm familiar with the black, rain-filled clouds which bring the threat of tornados and the leaden gray clouds of winter and their abundance of snow.

My vacation, starting a bit early in that I had to go west to do inspections before continuing on to my destination, started in the warm sunshine of a late spring day. We tend to think of the days around Memorial Day as the beginning of summer, whereas meteorological summer isn't until June 21st. There was a warm breeze and sunshine and not a cloud in the sky on the Friday and Saturday I spent working and then lounging at my mother's before heading north to Minnesota. We knew rain was coming, but it was a far away thought.

I awoke to rain splashing on the windows. The car was loaded in a driving rain, but I needed to get on my way. Iowa always looks good in a rainstorm.

The route took me west, north, west and then straight north. The rains came from the west, in easily identifiable bands.

I had every intention of stopping in Clear Lake, Iowa, at the Buddy Holly crash site. It's one of those places I didn't know existed until the last 10 years. Three musicians and a pilot died in the crash and the infamy of having this event was not something people wanted memorialized. Times and attitudes change and now, fans come to this spot to pay their respects, not necessarily to gawk. We talk about times being simpler. I don't know that that's the case, but they were different and this memorial connects us to a different time.

As luck would have it, I needed gas by the time I got to Clear Lake. It was raining sideways. The canopy over the gas pumps provided no shelter. I stood next to the car, with my feet and lower legs getting wet and made the decision that traipsing to a memorial in a driving rain was not something I wanted to do. Grabbing lunch at Wendy's, I continued north into Minnesota.

Oh look. How nice of them to have road destruction for those of us from Chicago.

It's about 1:30 in the afternoon here. You can be forgiven for thinking it's close to sunset. The low, water-filled clouds pretty much obscured the sun. I'm usually not one to think, "How much longer?", but I certainly did here. The sign announcing Faribault, Minnesota never looked so good.

There was a brief let up in the rain for Memorial Day's parade but the rains returned in the middle of the afternoon. I was visiting a friend and we could watch the rain come from west to east through the back yards of her neighborhood.

Tuesday was drizzle, although it was a warm drizzle. We weren't going to be tourists, thankfully, because there is nothing inviting about doing any sort of walking tour in a steady rain.

I headed home on Wednesday and, of course, it was lovely.

Bright blue sky. No clouds. Easy driving. I actually don't mind driving in the rain, but a horizontal rain with road construction is not a good drive. It makes for a stressful ride. I could just put the car on cruise control and head home, once I found the interstate.

Clouds picked up when I got near Madison, Wisconsin.

These are the clouds that make wonderful photos. It's like the sky is glass and you've dropped shredded cotton balls around. They stayed with me until I got south of Rockford, Illinois and headed east toward home.

At that point, the clouds had thickened and, in the distance, was the remnant of the rain that had gone through Faribault in the days before.

The weekend and vacation was not a wash out. I loved the peace and quiet I found. I needed to step away from life for a bit and the trip allowed me to remove myself and just be. Plus, we weren't really going to do anything other than talk so the rain wasn't a hindrance to our activities. And we can sigh at 3 days of rain but it was nothing compared to what Texas went through. That area of Minnesota was in mild drought conditions and, although there were times of heavy rain, most of it was the soaking kind. This is the kind of rain which will go deep to the roots of the corn and soybeans and alfalfa and apple trees which make up the commercial crops in that area. I came home to a lawn in desperate need of mowing but glowing green in the afternoon sunshine.

Summer weather. I think that's my favorite kind.

Beverage:  Irish Breakfast Tea

Deb

The Road Less Traveled

I'm sure I've done this before in a blog post from years past. I mean, I have this poem memorized, the whole thing.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
To be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth

And took the other as just as fair
And having, perhaps, the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them nearly about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh! I kept the first for another day
But knowing how day leads on to day,
I doubted that I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference.

(Robert Frost)

Setting aside the metaphor for our journey through this life, I often think about this poem when I am traveling to far-flung job. I took a vacation to Minnesota over Memorial Day weekend. Tacked onto the front of the vacation was an inspection job of 5 homes near Dickeyville, Wisconsin. I know that place. I know how to get there, but I didn't know where the homes were.

Now, Dickeyville is not a huge metropolis. There is a grotto there. (I didn't stop. I should have.) Since it's off the beaten path, it's not very crowded. There are a couple of large gas stations and a couple of restaurants, but the town is not very big. I probably could have driven around and found the place where the homes were. But, because I was on the clock and I wanted to be efficient with my time, I looked up the addresses in Google maps.

MapQuest, Bing Maps, Google Maps; all web sites where you can get driving directions from point A to point B. Plug directions into your smart phone and a somewhat comforting female voice will say, "Turn left at the next intersection, in 500 feet." You get where you're going, usually. Sometimes relying on that comforting female voice instead of map reading skills will get you in trouble.

I don't care for verbal directions unless they come from someone sitting next to me, reading where I have to go. I'm very much old school in that I want my directions printed out. I can read a map. I know how to use that information. Map reading was taught in school. It was deemed a necessary skill to have. If our entire GPS network were to crash, I could still find my way to a new location because I know how to read a map and follow directions.

We do complain about the directions given out by online map services. "I think I can get out of my neighborhood," we say when the directions tell you to "go south and then turn right onto Liberty. Go two blocks and turn left onto Blanchard. At the 'y' intersection, stay to the right and go onto Willow. At the next stop sign, turn left onto President." Yes, thanks. I know that. I go that route to the Dunkin' Donuts. Companies have amended their directions so you don't have to print what you don't need. Sometimes, you have an option for a scenic, as opposed to direct route. Still, the directions can be head-scratchingly strange.

Thanks to Google Map's directions, I found myself on this road while heading from my home to Dickeyville.

This is Wisconsin Highway W near Shullsburg. The most direct route took me down 2 lane highways in south and southwest Wisconsin, very nearly deserted of vehicles.

The same was true of driving home from Minnesota. Although the directions seemed clear and the roads recommended were among the more well-traveled, sometimes, the signage can leave a little to be desired. I missed a turn and found myself heading east on nearly deserted roads.

Unlike the trip to Dickeyville, where I was on a clock, coming home, I had time to wander. I did think about turning on my phone's GPS to figure out where I was but I knew the interstate was south of me. So if I headed south, eventually, I'd find it and I could continue east and home.

Still, I took the one less traveled by. Did it make any difference? Probably not, but I got to see sections of the country I wouldn't see if I hadn't relied on "the most direct" and then missed a sign. I think we can close ourselves off from the joy that comes in the road less traveled. If you have the time to wander, I think it revitalizes the soul.

Beverage:  Irish Breakfast Tea

Deb

Cleaning

There is a tradition to thoroughly clean one's domicile twice a year; spring and fall. This spring, I cleaned thoroughly because Carole and David were coming for Memorial Day and Niles' wedding. I had not done the fall cleaning, however.

It's been a rough fall for joint pain. My knees have been giving me a great deal of problems and pain. I don't have the pain in my hands, shoulders or feet and ankles, but the hips hurt getting out of bed in the morning and the knees hurt period. Cleaning, the thorough kind I really wanted to do, just wore me out because I can't stand for long periods of time. I have to break the cleaning sessions into smaller chunks and it sometimes doesn't feel like I'm getting anything accomplished.

I also have to be careful about the amount of cleaning products I'm exposed to. My allergies seem to be in high gear this fall. I've been waiting for the hard freeze to kill the pollens outside, but interior allergens can be as bad or worse than anything you find outside. I have to watch how much stuff I use and how long I'm exposed to it.

In Target, on Wednesday, I was thrilled to see that J.R. Watkins had put their cleaning products for sale in the store. Watkins is a Minnesota brand and Target is headquartered in Minneapolis. It was probably a perfect fit for growing the Watkins brand. It's usually sold via door-to-door salesmen. We had a "little old man", I don't remember his name, who handled our Watkins products. He was stooped with what we now know is osteoporosis, and drove this battered gray station wagon in which most of his products were stored. I have raved about their vanilla and spices before. I have their degreaser for heavy jobs. It's wonderful. I've used some of their other cleaning products and they are mild but very effective and without the chemicals I seem to have problems with.

But, as good as they are, they still have to resort to chemicals in some ways to clean some things. Many natural cleaning aids, vinegar comes to mind, do work but aren't as effective in some situations. My goal this weekend is to thoroughly clean AND get the window insulator plastic up on the windows. I'm going to be washing windows and trim around the windows. I have Windex, but I just don't want to breathe that stuff in for an afternoon.

Almost as if it knows, the Internet coughed up an article about using this as a cleaning aid.

Plain old Coca-Cola. The mystic formula of real Coke has a grease cutting ability that is supposed to be exceptional. I've known of stories that say you can use a can of Coke to clean your toilet bowl. (It looks really gross and no, I didn't photograph it.) I decided this was as good of a time as any to conduct experiments.

A case at Target was $5.99. That's kind of pricey. If you watch sales, I know you can get it for less. That's still 50¢ a can for a cleaning agent. The last bottle of toilet bowl cleaner I purchased was on sale for $2.49 for 24 ounces or 10¢ an ounce. A can of Coke is 4¢ an ounce.

I'm not completely sold on Coke as a toilet bowl cleaner. Unless you shake the can, you'll not get it under the rim, which should be cleaned every time you clean the bowl. I felt I had to use twice as much water because of rinsing out the toilet brush. My bowl looks clean, but is that a product of the Coke or would I get the same result if I just scrubbed the bowl with the toilet brush. I clean the bowl once a week. In terms of value, a case of coke is good for 12 weeks of cleaning as you're supposed to use a full can. I buy a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner about once every 4 months because I'm not using 12 ounces of the product. The chemical stuff is, by far, the better value for this cleaning.

Where Coke has really impressed me is in washing windows. Part of sealing the windows for the winter is washing them and the trim. I'm just using plain water to wash off the trim. I take a couple of paper towels, tip the can of Coke and pour a "handful" onto the towels. That's used to wash the window.

"But the sugar in the soda will leave a residue, won't it?" Well, if I just leave the Coke on the window, yes. There is a wind today and the outside air temperature is 32 degrees colder than yesterday. I started in the bedroom and washed the top half of the window first. I followed the Coke windows with a sponge immersed in water and then dried off each pane. I didn't notice a difference between the Coke washed and the just regular washed with water window.

Then I went to the cats' room. This used to be Carole's bedroom. We repainted the walls and windows, leaving paint residue on the windows. We always meant to scrape that off, but it never happened. She also had stickers on the windows as kids will do. Over the years, those have dried and fallen off, but the imprint has remained. Windex hasn't been able to get that off the glass.

Since I'm not in this room much, except to change litter, I haven't spent time cleaning the windows. They were quite dirty. Imagine my surprise and delight when the Coke infused paper towels removed over half of the dried paint; dissolved it right before my eyes; the sticker residue, insect parts and all the dirt and grime. For a control, I washed one pane in just plain water. It did get most of the grime but not all of it, some of the insect parts and none of the paint. I followed up with Coke. Each pane is rinsed with plain water and then dried with a paper towel. I wound up spending some time on this window simply because the Coke was dissolving the old paint every time I wiped across the panes. Technically, I don't really "care" about these back windows, but, wow. They sure sparkle now.

I've got a bunch more windows to wash and I will, for sure, use the Coke followed by water method. There are absolutely no fumes. Yes, it takes a bit more time to wash the window but not breathing in Windex fumes is, I think, worth it. I have no idea what Windex is selling for at this time. I bought some months ago when it was on sale, a big bottle so I have quite a bit to use up. I can't tell if this is a bargain but, after 2 windows, I've used about a third of a can. Perhaps I would use more if I was doing the outside of the windows. I am impressed, to say the least.

The last thing I'm going to try is defrosting the windshield with Coke. The article said pouring part of a can of Coke onto a frosted over window removes the frost. Follow with your washer fluid. I think there will be frozen Coke residue on your car that you probably will want to wash off but, for someone like me being able to easily make the windshield clear will be a godsend. I've had to scrape three times already and it does hurt the hands a bit in the morning. I'll let you know how that goes.

There is one thing I do wonder. Who decided to use Coke to clean their windows? Were they sitting around after pizza one night and someone looked at their can and said, "I wonder if we could use this to clean the windows?" And why Coke and not Pepsi or Dr Pepper? It's probably a good thing that I've not seen that you can use Dr Pepper to clean windows. I don't think I could use it for that.

Beverage:  Um...the rest of the can of Coke

Deb

Vacation

September is here. There are leaves on the deck from the tree at the NW corner of the house. The last two days of August went out hot and sweaty and today is delightfully cool.

I finally took two days off just for me. Thursday, I spent getting caught up with bills and other paperwork-type things. Yesterday was spent running the errands I've been too tired to run and boy have I been tired.

As much as I enjoyed, at first, the goings and comings of being in the Jeep and needing to be someplace that generated a mileage check, it wore me down. I started having sleeping problems, particularly on weekends. My right hip, knee and shoulder started aching. My eyes felt like I had sand in them, making driving in the bright sunlight a challenge. And, with the not sleeping came the terrifying times that I dozed off while barreling down the Interstate at 70 miles an hour. A 2 and a half hour drive became a 3 hour and 15 minute drive because I would stop every hour, get out and walk around the Jeep. I came close to buying one of those energy drinks that probably is really not good for me, simply to stay awake.

When I was told, 10 days ago, that I would be spending another day in the town 2.5 hours away and that I had to be there by 9 a.m., I came home that night and cried. What was wrong with me? I had felt wonderful at the beginning of the month. Now, I felt horrible and the prospect of a drive reduced me to tears. That was changed and I did't have to go anywhere. My RA doctor, after listening to my symptoms, said I'd had a full flare up of the RA. I needed to learn self-care and how to unwind as well as develop better sleep habits. I had requested these days off at the beginning of the month and was scared, with all the work we have to do, that I'd need to give them up. Fortunately, I wasn't asked to.

It felt odd, on Thursday, to roll over and see the clock at 7:35 and I was still in bed. A vacation is time to get out and see the country; go somewhere; do something. In July 1971, my dad packed us into the van and we spent a week in northern Minnesota, near the headwaters of the Mississippi River. Off to the right, off the photo, you can walk across the Mississippi. Lake Itasca is the source of the Mississippi's waters. I remember it being cold and clear that day.

We stayed at a campground about 15 miles south of the lake. Here, the Mississippi was about 10 feet deep and about 10 feet wide. It was quite the novelty to be able to look across the main channel of the river; throw a stone over it, in fact, when where I grew up, barges plied the channel and sandbars, backwaters and marsh were plentiful.

When I think of a vacation, I think of this with fondness. I don't think of running to the pharmacy, getting the oil changed, changing my car and homeowner's insurance and saving money in the process, or grocery shopping as being a "vacation". In reality, whether you walk across the headwaters of the Mississippi or walk across the yard to get the mail, as long as it's time for you to sit back and relax, it's a matter of semantics. I've been too tired to blog. This weekend is about centering myself, caring for me and finding the headwaters of who I am.

Beverage:  Darjeeling tea

Deb

Sweetened Carbonated Beverages

While we loathe them from a nutrition stand point, sugary carbonated beverages have been a part of the American life-style since just after the Civil War. Dr Pepper was invented in Texas in 1885 with Coca-Cola following the year after. We have no memory of a time when you couldn't get a bottle or can of fizzy stuff from some place as you traveled. And what could be more refreshing, indeed, whole ad campaigns were developed around the concept, of an ice cold soda on a hot summer day? Parents would make "soda cubes", pouring Coke into an ice cube tray and freezing it so when you put "ice" into your drink, it was not diluted by water.

I've been on the road a lot in the last two weeks, traveling both east and west on business. The drive, when done over the same roads again and again, can get tedious. Or, if you didn't sleep completely the night before, tiredness can set in even if the road isn't one of monotony. one of the best pick-me-ups for a drowsy driver is to stop at a convenience store for a couple of bottles of water and a couple bottles of soda. It's more probable that, instead of the soda doing the pick-me-up, the simple act of stopping and getting out to walk is what awakened you, but the allure of a beverage is not without merit. Depending upon where you're from that beverage could be a "soda"; a "pop"; a "Coke" or even an "RC", which covered everything carbonated.

I had to stop and get gas yesterday. I got a couple bottles of water, which, really, is the what you should be drinking. Staying hydrated wards off a whole bunch of things, including road-induced drowsiness. I also wanted a Dr Pepper. There is no denying the effect of caffeine on alertness. As I perused the cases for Dr Pepper, my eye fell upon Big Red. Oh my gosh! I could not remember the last time I had a Big Red.

You can be forgiven for not knowing this soda. I didn't know about it until my ex-husband and I moved to Bloomington, Indiana as he was pursuing his MBA. It's one of many regional soft drinks. You won't find this drink but rarely in Chicagoland. Big Red is solely a southern and Texas brand, having been invented in Texas in 1937. It's marketed as the red cream soda. If you've never had one, there is no way to describe the taste. It's not strawberry, nor a mix of strawberry, raspberry or any other berry you can think of. It's got a vanilla tang but it's not cream soda, which is vanilla flavored. It's a flavor unto its own. Ice cold, to me it rivals my beloved Dr Pepper.

In drinking this as I continued home, I thought of all the regional sodas I've had in my life. Who remembers or had a Nehi? Hugely popular around World War II, they are hard to find now. It was the soda of choice for our July 4th family reunions. There was a galvanized steel cow trough filled with ice, melon slices and bottles of Nehi. It was THE drink of Radar O'Reilly on the TV series, M*A*S*H. As I looked through the favors they offered, I know I've had Nehi Chocolate, Wild Red, Blue Creme, Orange and Grape. Nehi was synonymous with Royal Crown Cola and, if a gas station sold Nehi, the Coke and Pepsi merchants just shook their heads and wandered away. They knew RC Cola was the cola beverage of choice in that store. It's really tough to find it now. Fruit sodas around me are generally of the Crush variety. Nehi seems to harken back to a time of sitting on the font porch on a summer's evening watching the fireflies fill up the yard.

The one soda that really brings on the nostalgia is Spring Grove Soda Pop. Bottled in Spring Grove, Minnesota, it's the consummate example of a regional soda. I actually don't have memories of this soda in growing up. Nehi was the brand sold at the Volney gas station and that's where dad preferred to go to get his gas. I knew of it and, perhaps, since we were quite close in distance to Spring Grove, I had a few. It was in my college years that this soda came into my world.

My best friend, Rita, was from Caledonia, Minnesota. In order to visit her hometown, you passed through Spring Grove. I remember pooling our money and buying a case of soda to be consumed that weekend at a picnic around a fire in her boyfriend's backyard. I remember the first taste of their strawberry soda and thinking, "This is better than anything I've ever tasted." We made strawberry floats and, as far as I'm concerned, those are 1,000 times better than root beer floats.

After that, as my ex-husband's parents lived closer to Spring Grove than my parents, whenever we got the chance on a visit back to that part of Iowa and southeastern Minnesota, we'd try to get our hands on at least a 6-pack, if not 2, of Spring Grove pop. Their root beer is heavenly, but it's not like A&W's mass produced for the US market root beer. It's more rooty, if you can imagine that, more bitter, is probably a better description. They make an orange soda now that I have not had.

Poking through their web site really makes me yearn for a 6-pack in my refrigerator right now. It also makes me yearn for a time of less stress and sitting on the porch watching the moon rise and dad picking out the constellations or just standing in the driveway with the remnants of a fire where we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows.

There have to be other regional soda pops with which I have no familiarity. If you know of one, post a link. I'd love to see where I should travel to tingle my tastebuds.

Beverage:  Huckleberry tea

Deb

Are We There Yet?

A road trip such as driving from Illinois to Virginia, gives one a good taste of the country. It may be quicker to fly, but the sights along the way and the chance for a random meander make a drive, it you can do it, the more pleasurable experience. I love to fly, and when Carole lived in Seattle, it was the only way to go see her. But I had the vacation time and the ability to drive to the wedding made the trip more enjoyable. Still, when the odometer rolls over 50, 100, 150, 250, 500 miles, you want to know that you're making some sort of progress.

We traveled a lot when I was in my teens. My dad had wanderlust, that desire to see this country, to go places which were just names on a map. Every year from about 1969 through 1975, and possibly beyond but I didn't go after graduating from high school, we packed the van with camping supplies and spent a week to two weeks on the road, seeing America. Grandpa and my uncle Leroy took care of the farm. We went to the Black Hills and Devil's Tower; northern Minnesota and the headwaters of the Mississippi; Springfield to walk in Lincoln's steps; Chicago and Cubs baseball (they lost); and a two week swing south through Tennessee, North Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana and back straight north along the Mississippi.

One of the things we looked for was the state signs. We would watch, when the map said we were getting close, for that elusive sign that said you had left Iowa and entered Illinois. Some of the signs were small and you'd miss them. Others were larger, particularly on interstates. That's still true today, although I think every road into a state is now marked by a large sign, lest you forget you have entered new territory. I like to document these signs. It's a visual representation of a trip, a marker of where you were.

 I drove the entire trip with Mom as navigator. On Wednesday, May 18th, there were only 2 signs to see. There was Indiana as we left the Chicagoland area heading east on a drizzly, foggy, overcast morning, and Ohio, as we drove onward to April and Perry's. It was still overcast as we headed into Ohio but the clouds parted until around Cleveland. Then we hit some heavy rains. Those cleared out as we reached Youngstown.

Thursday was the day of many signs. The first was, of course, going from Ohio into Pennsylvania on the turnpike. We drove along the Pennsylvania Turnpike for awhile before the directions told us to leave it behind. The roads the directions selected; I-70, US 30, US 522, VA 37, I-81; took us quickly through Maryland and West Virginia. Before we quite knew where we were, Virginia arrived and I never got photos of any of the signs.

Coming back was a different story. I hadn't really liked the route selected by the trip finder. It was direct, no question about that, but part of it had been through small towns on two-lane roads. We hadn't really seen the things I wanted to see. Ironically, I knew some of the best views were not from the two-lane highways but from the interstate.

So, heading back to Youngstown on Sunday, May 22nd, we drove north from Warrenton and picked up I-66 heading west to I-70. A later post will have some of the views from the interstate as we headed through the Great Smokey Mountains. I bought a road atlas on Sunday. Funny how the one from 2005 really isn't what you want. Mom watched the map and alerted me to when we would reach a state line.

First up was Maryland. We drove along the pan-handle of Maryland on I-70 to I-68. It's a gorgeous trip, really. Good roads and stunning views. It's quick but there are still mountains to cross and valleys to traverse.

We had just briefly, on the two-week trip in the 1970's, been in the Great Smokey Mountains when we wandered into Pigeon Forge. I remember one look out station where we stopped, but we were not heading the right way so we turned around, found the correct road and headed back south towards Huntsville, Alabama. This highway mom and I found ourselves on was a delight for her. She got to see the mountains, something she may never do again.

As the drive was so easy, we kept going until about 6:30. By then, we had crossed into West Virginia and had decided to stop in Morgantown. Yes, this blurry photo is the state sign for West Virginia. It was brilliantly sunny, we were going uphill and the windshield was dirty, but we'd made exceptional time and we collapsed in a hotel room for a good night's sleep.

It turned out we were about 2.5 hours from April and Perry's. Well, we weren't really expected so soon so we slept in, got breakfast and gas and took our time getting going in the morning. I missed the sign which told us of the arrival into Pennsylvania. I think there was a truck in the right lane and I was passing it. We hit rain as we approached Ohio. It rained off and on before clearing up for the afternoon. Heavy storms with tornado warnings were in the evening and north of us.

Tuesday, it was time once again, for the longest travel day of the trip, Youngstown to Wheaton. We'd made the trek out in around 8 hours. Perry said we should be back at my house about 6 p.m. his time. We fortified ourselves with a good breakfast and got on the road.

Ohio is big and long. Going out, it didn't seem quite so big. Maybe it was the anticipation and excitement of starting a journey. Coming back, gad that's a long state. I quipped to my mother that it seemed as if they had added extra miles as the Indiana state line seemed to never come. It didn't help that every 50-75 miles, there was road construction and lanes would be reduced to one, going 50 miles an hour. I don't think I've ever been more happy to see the Indiana sign.

It took a little over 2 hours to get across Indiana. I've made parts of this drive before so it felt like a dash and when I-80 meets up with I-94, I know the home stretch is approaching.

That home stretch is covered in concrete. Unlike the somewhat bucolic settings for every other state sign, the northeastern corner of Illinois is highway, highway that seems to be in a permanent state of construction. There was the sign, tacked to an overpass and I knew exactly where we were and just how long it would take us to get from this point to my driveway. We pulled in 15 minutes shy of 5 p.m., 6 p.m. Perry's time.

I look back through these photos and remember passing the signs. They document a journey, a wonderful journey, a chance to spend time with my mom and my friends and to see the landscape, places different from where I live.

Beverage:  Scottish Blend tea

Deb

Happy Birthday, Sis!

Today is my sister's birthday. I'm having fun with the scanner in the office since my home scanner doesn't want to work.

First week of September 1970, before school.

I can't seem to get the photos square, however.

Spitting watermelon seeds at the gas station where dad worked. That's him in the background. They were having an open house event over July 4th, 1976. You had to get the seeds into a box and you won a prize.

 

And finally, on a merry-go-round at Paul Bunyan State Park in Bemidji, Minnesota in 1973.

Hope your birthday is special.



Beverage:  Blackberry Sage Tea


Deb

Now what to do?

So the football season effectively ended for Iowa today with their loss to Ohio State. Oh we'll still go to a bowl game. Bowls know the Hawkeye faithful will follow the team pretty much anywhere in the post-season. All that is left is Minnesota and the season is history.

I finished a gnome and have started on the Hawkeye project to the left. It's been fun to sit and cross-stitch, to go through the many magazines and leaflets I've accumulated over the decades and think, "Oh x would like this!" and then wonder how I could get it done. In spite of the number of "what the..." moments my Hawkeyes provided me, the time to sit is probably the most important. I'm not real fond of pro football but I may start watching that or I should see if the DVD player works and I can watch movies while stitching.

Mija and Pilchard beat a quick retreat out of the living room with Iowa's 2nd quarter interception of Ohio State. This has been a learning season for them. I didn't watch basketball last year so a whole year went by without my cheering maniacally. It's something they have to get used to. They chose to go take a nap, only coming to check on me when I went into the kitchen to wash dishes during commercials or half-time.

I have quite a few things to do tomorrow, but I think I will make room for more stitching.

Beverage: Lapsang Souchong tea

Deb

As long as you're in the sunshine...

This was yesterday, actually, in Evanston, Illinois. I was on a job site and could set up my equipment and just read until they were ready for me.

It was glorious. The sky looks washed out here because I'm shooting into the sunlight. The temperatures rose into the mid-50's and, although there was a breeze, it was intermittent. Once the sun descended behind the building to the right, the temperatures dropped, plummeted, into the 40's. I was overdressed for the sun and under dressed for the shade.

But, I'll take these days when there is a nip in the air and the breeze smells so fresh. They are like miniature blessings, although I do love the winter and snow.

It was similar to yesterday today; the perfect day for Iowa to finish the Big 10 season. It was not the most well-run game they have played all season. The problems which manifested themselves in the Northwestern game continued unchecked through this game. Still, they went out on a positive note:

Iowa 12 Minnesota 0

But it could have been so much better.

Now, we wait to see which bowl wants them. Bowl officials like to invite the Hawkeyes because the fans follow them in very large quantities to whatever game the Hawkeyes have been invited to. Even in a year when belt-tightening is the norm, Hawkeye fans will descend en masse into the area of the bowl and provide a well-needed boost to the local economy.

The question becomes, what will I do with my Saturdays, now that football is over. Wait, wait! Basketball is just around the corner.

Beverage: Lady Grey Tea

Deb

At least I got it to work.

Jon came over in late September and helped get the TV with the digital box set up properly. I've never had an outside antenna so watching some stations has always been on the whims of the analog gods. We finally got a set of rabbit ears and taped them in the north window when the signal was strong. That brought in all the stations we needed.

Along comes the digital revolution and, as with any revolution, some of us get left behind.

My co-worker, Luke, gave everyone a Best Buy gift card at Christmas. I needed that digital tuner box thingee so I trotted down to Best Buy with my gov'mint rebate check and my gift card and spent exactly $3.87 for a digital box. I brought it home, set it next to the TV and it stayed there.

Enter football season and the miraculous win over Penn State. Methinks my Hawkeyes are going to be on TV more this year. It would be nice to see them. But I knew that in late October of last year, the TV signal disappeared and almost every channel was snow. I also knew that the cats had knocked connections off the back of the TV in the past. I looked and the signal booster for the TV was lying on the ground. I have no idea where this goes.

Jon came over and set everything up. But I couldn't get channels 2 and 7; CBS and ABC respectively. He felt, if I could move the antenna into the northeast window, that would pull the signal in from those two stations. I simply needed a coax cable.

Off to Radio Shack I went and got a 12' coax cable. I screwed it into the port on the back of the digital box, stretched it behind the plants, grabbed the signal booster and went to plug it into the cable. It wouldn't go. I was trying to plug a male end into a male end. I unscrewed the other plug and looked at it. Same thing. I had a coax cable with two male ends. Jon said to just go to Radio Shack and get another cable.

Looking online, I found that there are adaptors that will change the ends of cables. As Iowa was playing Ohio State on ABC today, I decided this was the game I would watch. I trotted off to Radio Shack and purchased the connector you see above. I have beautiful digital quality on my TV and I get every station I could want and a few more. Worked like a charm.

Now if only the Hawkeyes had worked that well.

Iowa 24 Ohio State 27

But it took overtime to get the win. Still, there were so many missed opportunities; 5 dropped passes, 3 interceptions and one missed field goal. Ohio State is going to the Rose Bowl in Pasadena on New Year's Day. For sure Iowa will be in a bowl game, but the Rose Bowl would have been extremely nice. We did have one bright spot, a 99-yard kick off return for a touchdown that brought us back into the game. That hadn't happened since 2003.

Now we just wait. We were ranked #15 in the country. I would imagine, with this loss, we will drop into the top 25. Still, it's been the best season ever, in terms of wins, for Iowa football. One more game versus Minnesota for "Floyd of Rosedale".

Beverage: Huckleberry tea

Deb

Autumn Leaves

The autumn leaves

drift past my window;

the autumn leaves

of red and gold.

Johnny Mercer wrote the English lyrics to a French tune and it's a jazz standard.

It's been on my mind as the end of another October approaches. The maples have been brilliantly hued this fall in spite of it being the 8th coldest summer on record and and September almost 15 degrees below normal. We had a surprise one day reappearance of summer on Wednesday and the sunshine seemed to light up the trees.

These are in the lot of the buildings across the street from the office.

And then the rain started. It rained non-stop from Wednesday late evening through tonight. The weather map was a solid patch of blues and greens covering the northern half of Illinois.

According to the weatherman, we got 2 inches out of this. I'm told it was needed as it had been rather dry. Wednesday's 70 degrees has given way to today's 53. But, it could be worse. The Minneapolis area has seen measurable snow already, shoveling 3 inches, I'm told, so far. I'm not quite ready for that.

After two days of rain, my front yard looks like this...

Zeke mowed the grass Monday after work and he's not going to mow it again until all the leaves are down. This represents about a third of the leaves on this tree. I should go out and rake these into piles at the very least, but I'd have to get a rake, I think. I don't believe any of my rakes are still intact. It would do me good to be out in the yard where I have not really been able to be all year with my allergies.

Finally, I leave you with a small photo of the leaves on the front porch.

Beverage: English Teatime

Deb