ABOUT LIFE

                                                          

A while back my wife’s cousin sent me a card she had found in her mothers things after she passed away. It was a birth announcement from seventy some years ago. It was the announcement that my wife’s mother sent out, shortly after the day my wife was born. I put it in a drawer with several other mementoes from her life but it and one other thing seemed to draw my attention back to the drawer. That other thing was her obituary. I had here in my hands the beginning and the end of a human life. The alpha and the omega if you will. I could only think how blessed I was to have been a witness to all of those years in between.

To those of you just starting out in married life and believing you’re so in love let me tell you something about love. Let me tell you how it really evolves between two people. True love can make you a better person because as James Baldwin said,” Love takes off masks we fear we can’t live without and know we can’t live within.” Yes true love can bring out the real you. 1^st Corinthians tells us, “Love is patient. Love is kind, it does not envy. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres.” Think of any other emotion that can lay claim to that. Love always makes you a better person because it always comes via a barter system. You give it--you get it back,. It’s the one thing in life we seem to have an insatiable appetite for and we can’t get or give enough of it. Paul McCartney said, “ And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”

When you truly love someone it will bring you happiness, yes, but it also can bring on fear, for you are afraid of getting hurt and get hurt you will, as I was when she died but its not that hurt that we need to fear. It’s the feeling that somehow now, we are incomplete without each other because believe it or not as the years went by you grew together as surely as trees in a clump. Not grew up together as in matured together, rather I am trying to say you just become one together.  In my life it was the fact that we were a team, a George and Gracie, who cracked each other up with laughter or a Ferranti and Tiecher who made such sweet music together. We finished each other’s sentences and always knew what the other was thinking. But you learned too that through living together you saw each other’s flaws also; even though you were seeing the world though rose colored glasses. You also learned that perfect people don’t exist, except in the movies but regardless, he or she became in real life the perfect one for you.

I found that even when the object of your affections dies, love never dies a natural death with it. For a while we just don’t know how to replenish it. But grief is like a scab in your heart that hides the wound you suffered, while underneath it all, blessed healing is taking place. And then one day that ugly scab falls off and there it is-- all good again. Love can’t exist in a scab but it’s patient and as 1^st Corinthians said “it will persevere” and it will exist in your heart again if you let it with no fear of seeming fickle. Maybe you didn’t know what you were missing until it was gone but now you know what to look for the second time around. You also know that he or she is giving you something precious that you can break. Yes, love needs to be handled carefully for you have already found out how fragile it really is.

YESTERDAY NOW AND THEN

                                               

Yesterday, October 3^rd, my friend and I went out on Crosslake, in his pontoon for one last ride around the lake. It was a beautiful fall day with temps in the 70’s, and a soft breeze that seem to whisper in your ear. Add to that, a quiet lake that we seemingly had all to ourselves. The fall colors picture-framed the homes as we skirted the shorelines and yards that had been hidden in foliage last summer but were now exposed, showing shuttered cabins and outbuildings. Leaves floated like little sampans on the still surface, while docks and boatlifts that once seemed to be so uniformly placed in the water, now littered the shoreline, shoved helter skelter, wherever there was a place to accommodate them. It looked like a scattered picture puzzle, with random pieces here and there; all waiting for springtime to come and bring some semblance of order back to the lakeshore again, but at least for today, all of it was a reminder of a summer that once was.

To me yes, it was the beginning of the end, of another summer solstice here in the lake country. But the serenity of it all that day overshadowed the loss of the season.  A summer that here in the lake country we have lived and loved through so many times before. Oh, there have been other hints of change lately. Some subtle, some more profound. Last Sunday the boys of summer put their gloves, balls and bats away. Across the lake shotguns rang out and the hunt was on. The squirrels have never been busier. I cut down a hollow tree the other day and there must have been ten pounds of acorns stashed in side of some creature’s winter home. I hope they find other accommodations before it gets too cold. I left all of the acorns for them.

I couldn’t help but think as we trolled along how much life has changed for me and for this area. That whole trip that day was so much more enjoyable, because I was with my friend. A man I have known for over sixty-five years. That’s what we want out of life isn’t it? To be able to share our highs and lows with someone and especially a chance to share a wonderful fall day. I thought back to five years ago when I was so lonely and life looked bleak indeed and then I met another friend. A very special lady who took me from the dumps to the clouds. There’s been many new memories we’ve made together and hopefully more to come. She brought with her and into my life, a whole new entourage of people, family and friends. All of them special in one way or another and all of them making my life better.

But then I thought about the sad changes, not in my life but what has come to this wonderful corner of the world. When I came here in 1984 there were no Zebra mussels, no milfoil. No spiny water fleas or other invasive species that threaten to destroy this Eden. The words, “personal watercraft,” were not in my vocabulary and seventy-five horses was a big outboard.  Mom and pop resorts were still flourishing and no one was tearing down ninety thousand dollar homes to build million dollar ones. But despite all the many changes the town was-- and still is Crosslake and it’s synomonous with a summer playground. You can go to the far corners of this country and people all know where Crosslake Minnesota is. I’m proud of that and proud to live here. Thanks Marv for a great afternoon and thanks Crosslake.

MISS MOLLY UPDATE

                                               

Molly is four 1/2 years old now and one would think that somewhere along the line, she would slow down and act like one of those old fat Labradors that lay in the corner of the room and sleep and fart. That’s what I have been waiting for but alas I don’t think Molly has heard about that stage of a dog’s life. She is still stuck in high gear and shows no sign of slowing down. Each day I take Molly for a walk and she likes to be off the leash. This works fine as she stays out of the road and stops and sits when cars go by. But there is an exception I can’t break her of. Meeting other people or other dogs. She thinks she’s Miss Congeniality and when she sees someone, or something else, well, in her mind at least, introductions are in order. Now, not everyone takes to a seventy-pound Lab barreling down on you with baited breath. So when we spot someone coming towards us, the leash has to go back on and she turns into a sled dog. I usually retreat to the side of the road and kick two divots into the ground to plant my heels in, otherwise we are both going to meet the new people like it or not. If you are a new acquaintance the fervor is a little more subdued then someone who is already in her friends and family book. But make no mistake about it she wants you in there too.

Outside of squirrels, which she detests, other animals are seen as playful companions too. Once, while off leash she spotted a skunk and she was off to make his acquaintance. Now the encounter was out of my eyesight but I saw her bounding towards him and I know she was saying, “Hey there cutie, lets run around together.” I really dig that stripe you having going down your back.  I know she didn’t attack the skunk because when she came back, her face dripping with that delectable juice, it was only her face that got sprayed. Being she likes to check out the rear quarters of all other animals first. I can only surmise that she found out the hard way, there is a weapon at the end of that stripe. Not that she will ever remember that.

She also likes to dig out pocket gophers and she’s quite good at it. She checks all of the mounds looking for the freshest one. Finds the back door and starts digging. I have spent fifteen minutes filling the hole back in when she is done. She might as well have a Bobcat decal on her butt once she starts the evacuation. She has caught one that she proudly brought up and put on my back porch. “Sorry God but that is the most butt ugly creature you ever created. I would have kept them underground most of the time too, if I looked like that.”

So people ask me. “What is there about this over exuberant, dimwitted dog that you like so much?” Maybe it’s just that she likes me so much. Maybe it’s because she is so non--judgmental to a man with way too many opinions. Maybe it’s because at the end of the day when she lays on the couch with her head in my lap, she knows, she has a friend who appreciates her, despite all of her many imperfections. Maybe its because she knows I always take too much ice cream in the evening and she has to do me the favor of finishing off the bowl. Maybe its because living by myself I need someone to talk to and she never disagrees with me.

THE FAMILY FARM

                                             

I have on my desk a picture of an old abandoned barn. Sandwiched between the side of the barn and the cement block silo, is the milk house. Its roof is sagging and on the verge of collapse. The door is open, hanging askew and if you could see inside you would probably see an old cream separator and several rusty pails in the corner. On a shelf is a cardboard box with some left over milk filters. On the wall is an old calendar from 30 years ago with notations of the times when certain cows were due to calve. I remember as a kid turning that long handle on a separator. It was geared very low, to make it spin fast enough to do the job of separating the cream from the milk and your arms would ache after just a few minutes of turning it. This room, now littered with dirt, debris and dust used to be the cleanest room on the farm

The barn in the picture still stands tall and proud but rows of shingles have fallen off and its just a matter of time until the rains rot out the roof boards, floors and the framework and it too will succumb to gravity and fall into ruins. The once brilliant red and white paint job is now a faded blotchy red with more gray then color. It once held rows of stanchions’ where the cows would almost magically march into the stall they were assigned, to be milked and fed. As a dairy farmer you held a certain kinship with each and every cow. They were your girls and you took good care of them. They in turn took care of you. The haymow doors now hang open like a big yawning mouth. One of them is dangling, by one rusty hinge. A rotten rope and an old block and tackle still hang in the peak. The huge loft is now empty but in better days it would have been packed with winter fodder for the girls downstairs. Now it is littered with beer cans and garbage from young people who come here to party.  

If there were a job description for a dairy farmer it would go like this. Wanted one dairy farmer. Hours are from sunup to sundown and on call after that. Seven days a week and fifty-two weeks a year. Duties will include but not be limited to caring for a herd of cattle and other farm animals. Planting, cultivating and harvesting food for the animals and your family. Milking the cows twice a day and seeing to their health and well being. Maintaining a fleet of equipment and assorted buildings. You will become out of necessity, a welder, a butcher, a carpenter and a businessman. Benefits are slim for you and your family. No health insurance, no dental insurance, no sick days, no holidays or vacation. No workmen’s comp, no maternity leaves and the retirement plan is what you can manage to put away. When you retire and if you retire, the farm will probably be sold because if you bequeath it to your children the taxes will put them in such a financial hole to start with, it will be economically unfeasible to stay in business. Most likely the farmland will be sold to a bigger conglomerate or rented out. The same family for a century or better has operated some of these farms but now it’s the end of the road.

Yes we are seeing the end of the family farm, as we knew it. Each year more and more of them call it quits. It’s sad and the end of an era but progress if you can call it that, is sometimes mean. At least we still have the memories of the family farm, even if they’re only in a picture of an old abandoned barn. Soon that too will be lost.