Suppertime, Westbrook MN--1950

Dad would come home from work for supper at 6:00. We always knew when it was 6:00 because the whistle on the town water tower would blow. It also blew at noon and for fires, but the supper whistle was the one that really mattered.

    (I was tickled to find the actual water tower on Google.)
Mom wanted to have supper on the table when Dad came in the door, so the sibling responsible for setting it would have to have everything ready. Mom would be at the stove frying supper--and it was always fried food--usually fried in Crisco or Spry shortening, bacon grease or lard (never oil). We would have boiled potatoes one night and fried potatoes the next night with fried meat--hamburger or pork chops, liver, sausage or ham steak.

Vegetables choices alternated between canned corn, green beans and pork and beans. I never tasted broccoli until I was an adult. The only salad we had was chopped iceberg lettuce with sliced bananas and a dressing consisting of Miracle Whip mixed with a little sugar and milk. We loved it.

On those occasions when we were treated to dessert, it was either canned fruit (called sauce) or cooked pudding with milk. During peach season, however, we had peaches and cream every night because it was my dad's favorite.

(Apparently nobody serves simple peaches and cream any more. I had a hard time finding an illustration!)

When supper was done, it was time to do dishes. One night it would be my two brothers and the next, my sister Karen and I. This would sometimes result in arguments over whose turn it was and who left the crusty pan soaking in the oven.

Years later when my own four kids would fight over doing the dishes, I posted this poem by the kitchen sink for them. (Of course, it didn't do much good.)

Thank God for dirty dishes, 

For they have a tale to tell.

While other folks go hungry,

We're eating very well.

With home and health and happiness,

We shouldn't want to fuss

For by this stack of evidence,

God's been very good to us.

Madison's Mustard Museum

I recently took a trip to Madison Wisconsin to visit my sister.  She took me to the Mustard Museum and it was a lively place. The photo was taken in the lower level.

We also visited the new HyVee store that had opened there. (She was not as enthusiastic about it as I am.) Later we went out to the zoo since it was a nice day. I was looking forward to seeing the chimpanzees that I remembered from a trip some fifteen years ago. They were no longer in the primate house so I asked a Docent why. She said that they only had two surviving chimps and they don't do well in small groups. For their own benefit, the two were sent to the Denver Zoo which has a larger population. I hope they're happy there.

Halloween Story

Halloween Night  I was jolted awake by shrieking outside my second-floor bedroom window. My heart  pounded wildly as I peered at the alarm clock--3:25. Again there was the unearthly shrieking, sounding like nothing I’d ever heard before. I bounded out of bed and ran to the open window, shivering as I peered into the darkness.

The moonless night was illuminated by only the feeble glow from a streetlight down the block. When my eyes adjusted, I could see a shadowy creature moving by the woods bordering my yard. The hulking figure stopped near a tree twenty feet away. It seemed to be staring up at me with glowing eyes. Terrified, I backed away from the window and moved to the side. I peered cautiously from behind the curtain for movement. The creature was now near a tree where the light was better. I gasped when I saw its size--it looked like a Bigfoot!

OK, this can’t be real. I live on a suburban cul-de-sac near parkland, not the deep forest.  There is no way there would be a Bigfoot outside my window. And yet, there was something huge walking on two

legs through the trees. To my relief it seemed to be leaving.

Oh no! It’s leaving! I suddenly realized I needed to get a picture. I snatched my cellphone from the dresser and dashed back to the window to catch a shot before it was out of sight. I knew the flash might attract its attention but a photo would be priceless.

Back at the window, cellphone in hand, I desperately scanned the treeline for movement. There was total stillness. Still shaking from excitement, I sighed in disappointment.

I gazed out into the trees once more before giving up. Just then, an enormous, hairy hand slammed against the window screen in front of me. I screamed and fell back on the floor. The shrieking beast was standing directly under my window and had destroyed it. All thoughts of getting a photo were now gone as I struggled to my feet and groped for the bedroom door. Running into the hall, I could hear the window crashing as it was ripped from the house. I ran down the stairs, dialing 911.

“There’s something trying to get into my house!” I screamed at the operator. “Hurry, it’s trying to kill me!” The 911 operator kept asking me inane questions as I frantically ran from one window to another to see where it was now.

Suddenly, three black SUVs pulled up in front. Two men-in-black exited from each, two came to the door while the others scattered to the area around the house. “Who are you? Where are the cops?” I asked in confusion.

“We just want to ask you a few questions,” they said as they pushed past me into the house.

I told them what I’d seen but they impatiently brushed off my questions. Moments later, a saucer-shaped airship hovered over my backyard. I heard a burst of noise and activity, then a brilliant light beamed down for a few seconds, winked out and the ship disappeared.  

The men turned on their heels, saying “Well, ma’am, that should take care of it. Sorry for the inconvenience. And, just so you know, none of this ever happened—remember that—none of this ever happened!”  

              

Standing on my front steps watching as they all sped away, I lamely called, “Who the hell is gonna fix my window?”                                    

(I'm an assistant coordinator of the East St Paul Speculative Fiction Writer’s Group. I wrote this for the Halloween Flash Fiction challenge. I'm also a member of a Women's Writers Group. I have published a family cookbook and now rest on my laurels and only write for fun.)

  

A trip to HyVee

Okay, a trip to a grocery store is not usually a big deal--and certainly nothing to blog about. However, I am fond of food stores. Wherever I travel, I make it a point to visit a local grocery store and it's always interesting.

On Saturday, my suburban daughter Brenda called and wanted to go to a movie. Since I was dying to see The Martian, we agreed to meet at a theater midway between our locations. Afterward, she insisted on going over to the newly-opened HyVee store in a nearby suburb. She had been there several days earlier and wanted me to see it.

There was a sit down restaurant inside the door and since we were hungry, we decided to give that a try. She ordered a salad and I ordered a side of garlic mashed potatoes and grilled vegetables. The two sides arrived in french fry cups to my surprise. The potatoes were nothing special but the veggies were so good! There were standing strips of carrots, squash, green pepper, onion, etc grilled with herbs. They were so good that I would go back for just that.

Then we went into the very crowded grocery store which is an experience of its own. All around the outer edges were individual areas for different foods. There was one for everything you could be looking for. I was impressed by the wonderful bakery with artisan breads and baked goodies to die for. There was an old-fashioned meat store that wrapped your purchase in brown paper. There was a cheese shop and an endless array of other areas to browse. I was especially impressed by the large section of British foods (with English candy bars), the natural foods and gluten-free offerings.

It was like a food court in a mall only with more variety and quality. It's a wonderful place to visit but I'm actually glad that there isn't a HyVee near me so I won't be wanting to go there again very soon. I wouldn't be able to control myself!

Good bye, Renaissance Fair

I really love the local Renaissance Fair held every fall outside of the Twin Cities. I wish I could go again this year because it's iffy whether there will be one next year. It turns out that the tract of useless, un-arable land that has been home to the fair for many decades is now valuable real estate--for fracking!

As a result, the Renaissance village with all its structures will be torn down. It's not known where or if it might be held next year.

It was great fun to go out for the stage shows, jousting, scotch eggs and shenanigans.

There were so many specialty shops, foods and sights to bring out the crowds every weekend.

But, the frackers are lusting over what lies beneath the festivities.

Here's a family portrait from 1982. My mom and dad are in front. In back are my sister with her son and me (the chubby one) with my son. We had some good times there.

Cats Happen

I've had many sweet cats over the years but I have never gone out of my way to get one. They just happen.

Late last fall, a woman who lived in an apartment building down the block posted flyers all over the neighborhood for her escaped cats. She was desperate since she was soon moving to Norway and wanted them to stay with her mother.

I contacted Laura and told her they might be in the wooded lot next door. We spoke and I promised her I'd watch for them. Sure enough, there was a black shorthair cat like her Onyx hanging around. (I never saw her other cat.) She brought over a cat carrier, food and a blanket to set on my freezing-cold patio to lure her.

The cat was wary so I put the food over by the retaining wall next to the wooded lot. She would never come to eat until after dark. Slowly, I moved the dish around the corner of the building and onto my patio. The kitty would always appear just after dark so I could time putting out the food before it froze.

This worked well except the cat was so easily spooked that if she caught sight of me watching her she would run away. This went on all through the winter months and into spring. I marveled how hardy she seemed even during the coldest months.

Spring arrived and we started keeping the patio door open so my two cats could lie out in the sun. Slowly, the black cat started coming during daylight and lying a short ways from the patio flirting with my cats. I started talking to her and calling her Pinky (it was obvious by then that she was going to wind up being my cat.) She responded so well that within a few weeks she was eating her food next to my chair on the patio. She was soon coming inside and snoozing on the cat tower and reveling in being loved up.

We took her to the vet for a checkup and shots. That's when we found out we had a male cat and it most definitely was not Laura's Onyx. The name Pinky no longer seemed suitable so we changed it to Tinky--and he's one cool dude!

                                                        (Borrowed image)

Making plans

Do you know how to make God laugh?

      Tell him your plans.

     (Old Jewish proverb)

I had planned to return to blogging again on August 25th which was one year after my last posting. As usual, my plans didn't work out.

I got a different computer and had all my stuff transferred, not knowing that the Microsoft Word program on the old computer was not registered. I wound up with everything stored in Word inaccessible to me. After trying several work-arounds, I gave up after four weeks and went online to buy a new copy of Word  for $109.00. As usual, everything was unbelievably complicated. It took two days and dealing with five separate people to get it installed. I must admit that one of the complications is that I am a computer putz!

I won't even get into the problems I had finding my blog and being able to post again. But anyway, here I am, nearly a year and a month later.

The reason I stopped blogging was because I felt that out of fairness, I had to follow the blogs of everyone who was a follower of mine. This became so time-consuming I that I had to draw the line. But, I missed it so I'm going to try it again. We'll see how it goes.

The 10-Book Challenge

A fellow blogger challenged his followers to list ten books that had an influence on them. This really got me to thinking back to my childhood.  It took a while but I finally came up with a list. I decided I could just as well post it in case some other bloggers might want to take up the challenge

Here they are in no particular order:

1)  Horton Hatches the Egg by Dr. Suess.  I have loved this book for as long as I can remember. I puddle up every time I read, "I meant what I said, and I said what I meant, an elephant's faithful one hundred percent".

2)  The Book of Knowledge 1943 edition. I don't remember how old I was when my parents bought this children's encyclopedia set but I spent many hours browsing through it. I think it gave me my interest in travel, archaeology and ancient history.

3)  The Household Searchlight Recipe Book. As a child, I loved to browse through my mom's cookbook reading about fanciful things like hors d'oeuvres and souffles and other foods that never graced our kitchen table. I yearned to be a sophisticated grown-up and make all those exotic dishes. ( I do occasionally make a quiche or a bundt cake but I'm still not sophisticated enough to make anything really elegant.)

4) The Nancy Drew Mystery series by Carolyn Keene. I avidly read those gripping mystery stories, sometimes under the covers at night so my mom wouldn't catch me. After I read all they had in the library I moved on to other writers and subjects. The Nancy Drew series was updated in the 70's because the books were no longer PC (eg. all the bad guys were "swarthy") but I'm sure they are still luring girls into the love of reading.

5)  The Golden Nature Books series. These handy little paperback-sized books were just right for taking on family camping trips in the woods. They helped the kids and me to identify birds, wildflowers, trees and critters.

6)  All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriott and also his subsequent books. I fell in love with Yorkshire, the people and the English countryside. When I finally traveled to England and the plane slowly banked over stone-fenced fields dotted with sheep, I nearly wept with joy.

7)  Harbrace College Handbook. I was issued this English grammar book my first quarter of Community College back in 1982. I enrolled in an English composition class to recover from my combined divorce-and-empty-nest-syndrome collision. Ever since, this book has been my valuable resource when I need to check whether to use affect vs effect or who vs whom.

8)  How to Talk Minnesotan by Howard Mohr. Like most people, I grew up feeling quite ordinary and average. Sometime in the 70's and 80's, Mr. Mohr--along with noted humorist, Garrison Keillor noticed that we were kinda unique in our own folksy way. This book paved the way for our "Minnesota Nice" identity. So even though I may have a Minnesota accent, I can take some pride that along with that I also hold doors for people and defer to others in conversation, in elevators and driving.

9)  The Synonym Finder by J. J.Rodale 1978. I'm the sort who's always groping for words. I picked up this large book at a garage sale some years ago and I use it all the time. 

10) Family Cookbook and Memories by Janice Wagar 2007. It's probably tacky to include this among my favorite books since I compiled and wrote it, but allow me to explain. After I retired in 2005, I decided it was time to do the cookbook of family favorites I'd been thinking about for years. I collected recipes from family and friends which also brought back memories. I started including anecdotes and family history plus some humor in the book. By the time I was done, I had created something unique for my family. I sometimes re-read it and cringe at small errors or see things I wish I'd done differently, but all the same, it still gives me a boost to have actually created it.

I am the proud holder of a library card!

I love libraries. Of course I love bookstores too, but in libraries everything is free. You can browse all day if you want. You can relax and revel in being in the company of kindred souls.

I was introduced to the library at an early age. One memorable fall morning, my second grade class was escorted across the street to the imposing Carnegie Library. Around on the right side was a half-flight of stairs leading down into the children's section. We were all seated in a half circle around a tiny woman named Miss Mole (or so it sounded to me) who read us a story book. The book was about a little boy who ate so much, he turned into a balloon and floated away. This concept was confusing and a little frightening but I was enthralled--there were lots and lots of other books in the library with other stories. We were each issued our very own library card so we could come back and check out books again.

The prestige of being the holder of a library card was pretty heady stuff.  I was hooked!

The adult section was up the outside flight of stairs and we were not allowed to check books out of the adult section until we turned thirteen. It therefore became a "rite of passage" to ascend the steps and be issued an adult library card.

Oh the wonderful things that were to be found in the upstairs library! There were books on archaeology and foreign countries, murder mysteries and science fiction, biographies and even humor! I loved reading so much, I would smuggle books to my upstairs bedroom and read far into the night. 

Of course, that old library no longer exists. It was built in an era when nobody gave a thought to providing access to the elderly or handicapped. It also became far too small for a growing population and too expensive to maintain. I'm sure that was the fate of many Carnegie libraries around the country.

But how wonderful that we had those treasures while we did!

Happy Mother's Day to all species!

                           I hope these give you a smile

  You have to look closely to see the baby snuggled between the parents.

It's a muddy May Day

After a three-month hiatus, I'm slinking back. It's been a lousy winter and so far, it's a lousy, cold and rainy spring. There is still part of an unmelted snowbank over in the corner of the parking area.

On Tuesday, we went over to Mort's Deli in Golden Valley, a suburb of Minneapolis. It's on the other side of the Cities so I don't get there often. They have a unique menu so it's one of my favorite places to eat. We met my granddaughter, Samantha and her sister's boyfriend, Mark for lunch.

Mark works on the far western side of North Dakota at a "boomtown" oil drilling site. There are lots of guys who go out there for the high-paying jobs. He works twelve hours a day for two weeks and stays in a bunkhouse with some other guys. Then he has two weeks off and comes back to the Cities (on the eastern side of Minnesota) for the next two weeks. Since Samantha's sister is at work during the day and Samantha had the day off, they were hanging out together.

Anyway, back to the food. Mort's has lots of New York deli menu items like blintz's, knishes and matzo ball soup. I ordered the beef brisket sandwich with chopped chicken liver "schmear" on rye. Samantha ordered the Elvis Burger, apparently based on a favored sandwich of his. It was topped by a fried egg and peanut butter! She loved it.

                                       Samantha selfie
It's one of my pet peeves that you can drive from one end of the U.S. to the other and find the same restaurants every, single place you go! Most of those places are waaay down on my list of desirable places to dine. MacDonalds, Arbys, Subway, Perkins, Taco Bell, Burger King, KFC...

So here's to all the independent restaurants that provide a sense of adventure to eating out!

A salute to the squirrels!

We've been having historic low temperatures for a long stretch along with lots of snow. There doesn't seem to be any relief in sight either. I am always amazed to see the squirrels racing around in the trees like it's a spring day when it's 20 below 0. I put out an assortment of food every day for as many as eight squirrels and the flock of sparrows who show up for a handout.

                                     (Borrowed image)
With all the snow and bitter cold, there is very little going on outdoors. I'm so grateful for the uplifting energy and spirit of those little furred and feathered creatures who brighten my day.

                      (Borrowed image. Eastern Gray Squirrel)
                      Our area is home to three kinds of squirrels.

                          (Borrowed image of Fox Squirrel)
They're more caramel-colored. After the bad storm we had last June, the Gray Squirrels disappeared and some Fox Squirrels moved in. It seems like there was a "Wooded Lot War" and the Gray Squirrels took over again.
                                                    

                        (Borrowed image of Red Squirrel)
.There are also several little hyperactive Red Squirrels that sneak over to snack on the food too. They're half as big as the other squirrels but very active and noisy.                                    

Batting 1000

I'm figuratively batting 1000 going into 2014. This is my official 500th post and I recently did my 500th workout at Curves. I'm not sure I can claim that as a single accomplishment, but I take my victories where I can get them.

Here is my first, ever-so-optimistic post from 2008:

"Hallelujah, I'm a Blogger!
 
I chose the title Ms. Sparrow because I have a lot of affection for house sparrows, a much under-appreciated bird. They congregate in small trees or shrubs in the evening where they twitter away as though chatting about their day--sorta like a homey tavern where people gather after work. There is something about driving past a boisterous and busy sparrow tree that invariably makes me smile.

Sparrows were originally imported from England where they are now declining in numbers. More's the pity. They are industrious, resourceful and chirpy. They will settle in urban areas and for many inner-city children, they are the only representative of the bird family besides pigeons. That's a lot of responsibility for such a little bird.

Sparrows are common, drab and always around. This is a trait I am content to share."

                                      (Borrowed image)
This winter, instead of a flock of turkeys, I'm feeding a flock of sparrows plus an assortment of other birds and lively squirrels.

Remembering Pearl Harbor

Today is Pearl Harbor Day. The sneak attack was 72 years ago and killed 2400 Americans  in a bombing that sank the battleship Arizona. I was a little over a year old at the time. The news stories today reminded me of my encounter with the father of a sailor who died in the attack.

When I was eleven years old, my family was living in a tiny town in Minnesota called Dovray. My dad was the contractor on a Norwegian Lutheran church being built in that farming community of 100 people. The town was really behind the times in 1950. My younger siblings all went to school in the one-room school house down the hill. (I've often felt envy that they had that experience while I had to make a one-hour long bus ride over to Westbrook for 7th grade.)

There was a general store called Smestad's Mercantile a block away. I was sophisticated enough that I knew how old-fashioned the store was compared to other places we had lived. It was just like the general stores I saw in old cowboy movies. On one side of the store the old man and his wife sold "dry goods" like flannel shirts and four-buckle overshoes. On the other side they sold groceries from a counter just inside the door.

                                     (Borrowed image)
There were open cardboard boxes of cookies and sheets of saltine crackers standing by the counter. The customer could take a brown paper bag and fill the bag to be weighed and priced. With no air conditioning and sealed packaging, the cookies and crackers were often stale. I don't remember if I was in Smestad's for cookies that day but I remember standing by the counter as he told me that his boy had been at Pearl Harbor when it was bombed. 

                                      (Borrowed image)
He was terribly sad and I was very confused. I'm not at all sure that I responded appropriately. Being a kid, with the off-kilter sense of time kids have, ten years seemed so very long ago that I wondered why he was talking about it.

Now that I am 73, I realize how very recent his loss was and how much he was still hurting from that dreadful day.   

Back in the wooded lot...

I  haven't posted about the wooded lot for a while. Things were pretty quiet for a long time but now that it's turned cold, the birds and beasties are coming around. The main attraction seems to be the pan of water I set out every day. The squirrels, a large variety of birds and the four turkey boys come around to quench their thirst.

I recently started getting deer coming at night for a drink. I had a lot of family visiting over the Thanksgiving weekend and my grandson and three great-grands were delighted when three deer showed up outside my bedroom window in the early evening. There is a light on the side of the building so they were clearly visible.

                                          (Borrowed image)
So far I've only been putting out birdseed and bread or fruit scraps. With the loss of the bread thrift store where we were buying a trunk-full of stale bread for $5, I'm not sure how I'll feed them over the winter. I really hope I'll locate another resource somewhere soon.

                                        (Borrowed image)
Once we get some snow, the animals won't need the water anymore. Right now, with everything so dry there is a constant stream of birds and animals drinking at the water pan. I'm using the bottom tray from a large flower pot.

Sometimes I can hardly believe how very lucky I am to have all this wonderful wildlife right outside my window! 

Thanksgiving for the immigrant Americans

Our American Thanksgiving Day is Thursday. It's probably much like Harvest Festivals in other parts of the world except we celebrate with many foods native to this country. The traditional dishes are turkey, squash, pumpkin (especially in pie), corn and cranberries along with potatoes and bread stuffing.

The holiday is based on the tale about the original European settlers suffering hardship and being provided with a big dinner by the Native American Indians in 1621. Why the Indians would have been so kind to the Puritan immigrants is a mystery. They celebrate Thanksgiving incorporating some native dishes like wild rice.

                       (Photo borrowed from Wikipedia)
As it turns out, we won't be getting together until Saturday this year. For the first time in many years, I'll have all four of my kids here, plus four grandkids and three great-grands. That's a total of sixteen people in my not-all-that-big unit.

 

       ( Thanksgiving 2010 in my small dining room. I'm not sure                 how many dogs we'll have this year.)

Another tradition that has been added over the years is the President officially pardoning a live turkey in a ceremony at the White House. A turkey farm in Badger, Minnesota has been rearing a separate "presidential flock" to provide the official turkey to go to Washington. The final three candidates are all toms that have been groomed to be "calm and unflappable" and able to sit still. The winner will be presented to President Obama and pardoned from being Thanksgiving dinner. The plan is that it will then live out its life in a zoo or sanctuary.

                            (Borrowed from google)

The day JFK was assassinated (11/22/63)

On that fall day of the assassination, it was overcast and windy in Worthington, Minnesota. My oldest child was four and a half. The youngest was four months old. We lived in a trailer court on the edge of town in a two-bedroom mobile home. At 40' by 10', it was really crowded with our family of six, a dog and a cat. I was 23 years old.

The Mickey Mouse Club came on TV every afternoon at 4:00. When I turned on the TV for the kids to watch, there was only "snow". The TV antenna was positioned on a pole standing inside a cement block and braced by the trailer hitch at the front end of the trailer. The wind had spun it around it so it wasn’t picking up a signal from the TV station in Sioux Falls fifty miles away. Since this happened often, I ran outside to turn it so it would pick up the signal. I ran back inside to see if the picture was coming in. It was, but it wasn’t the Mickey Mouse Club. It was Walter Cronkite saying the president would be “lying in state".  I was confused and stunned as the terrible details were slowly revealed over the next hours and into the night. As the reports were repeated over and over, the reality slowly sank in. 

I had the TV on constantly for the next several days watching the continuous coverage in black and white. In the confines of the small mobile home, I was never far from the TV set so I was watching when Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald live in front of millions of people.

I remember being very sad and feeling disconnected from the events so far away, and yet transpiring right in front of me on TV.

 

           This was taken in the mobile home the following year. 

Bimbo wipes out Sara Lee

Today. we went out to the "used bread" store on Silver Lake Road to stock up on our favorite English Muffin Toasting Bread. The stuff is perfect for breakfast toast, French toast, grilled cheese sandwiches and BLT's. Since we use it almost exclusively, we like to keep plenty on hand. The price at the local grocery stores is close to $4.00--the price at the outlet store is half that much.

                                                                                                                                         

                     (They're small loaves so they don't last long.)
When we got to the Sara Lee Bakery Outlet, there was a handwritten sign on the door that the tiny store will be closing on December 14th. We picked up six loaves of the wonderful stuff and asked the lady at the cash register it they were just moving to a new location. She said that a Mexican Corporation called Bimbo Baking had bought out Sara Lee and they were closing all the outlet stores. (Bimbo also bought out Hostess when they went bankrupt and the famous Twinkies were off the market for a while.)

This is the store where we buy big bags of outdated bread to feed the wildlife in the wooded lot. But more than that, it's the store where charities buy bread to make sandwiches for homeless people. It's the store where many elderly and folks on food stamps go to extend their food budget. I can well imagine that there are customers of that store who have had to rely on it for a large part of their diet.

I don't know who will step in and make up for the loss of the last remaining bakery outlets in the Twin Cities. It will be a hardship on a lot of people--and even worse, this comes at the same time that Food Stamp benefits are being reduced. It seems like the poor just can't catch a break!