A Death in the Community

I live in a small town...more of a village, really. Situated on a curve with a little bit of town on each edge. To anyone passing through, they might be inclined to continue passing through without another thought.

But those of us who live here and have been members of families that have lived here for generations, it's much more than just a small collection of old buildings with empty insides...

it's home.

And so, while attending our town Ruritan meeting, when we received the news that a majority of the county school board saw fit to close our little town's only school, it swept through the room with an audible gasp.

A death had occurred in the community. And we all felt its impact immediately.

Many of us in the room had given a great deal of our energies, love, and loyalty in keeping that little school alive and thriving...really thriving. Most all of us in attendance had either once attended or had kids, grandkids, and even great-grandkids attend that little school.

There's always been a lot of love and community in that little building. All those who entered understood that hard work was expected--it is the backbone of this community. 

And the students did indeed learn the value of hard work...they became many of the best in their classes.

And now tonight we all sit in our homes,a little numb, a little defeated, a little angry for our kids, our school and its workers, and for our little town itself. 

Our county tends to swallow up out little  community...we've lost our bank to the bigger bank in the county; we've all but lost our post office to the bigger one in the county...and now we're being told our school has one more year of life before it, too, is taken from our town.

Where does it end?

Fortunately for our little town, it is loved by many of us, much like a beloved old pet...it may not be the most beautiful or robust place in its outward appearance, but the heart that is collectively beating underneath is strong. We will keep working hard because that's what we do...we will figure out a way to keep the little school alive in some manner as we work diligently to keep our little town alive. Not an easy task, but worth it.

We know that we are on borrowed time as a community if we have many more deaths of places where we collectively gather in our town...let us gather together in our churches, in our community clubs, and keep our spirits alive...

because it's just plain worth it.

C'mon, March...We're Counting on You!

I, just  like all of you, hunkered down and allowed the bully of the winter, also known as February, to brandish every thug-like trick it had up its frozen little sleeves...while suffering in silence. Knowing what comes next tends to make it bearable to suffer the slings and arrows of this little bully that lies in wait for us each year on the calendar...spring just can't be far away. C'mon March--come to our rescue.

 And now for the present...we, the battle-scarred and worn, finally saw off the little rascal of the winter as February stomped off into the sunset. And, we all sighed with happy hearts, here comes March! Lovely March, the month of feeling the first true warmth from the sun, the warming breezes of spring, the first signs of plants emerging back to life.

 But, wait...March? What's going on?

 MORE ice?? MORE snow?? MORE frigid temperatures? There's only one explanation...February!!

 Bad habits have obviously been taught by that little imp...and poor 'ol March didn't see it coming.

 Please redeem yourself, dear March...and please make it soon. We all still want to love you as the turning point in our cold, dark, frozen little existences. Please re-think your choice to follow a bad example. Please choose to emulate your other next door neighbor, April, over that little fuss-budget February.

 C'mon March...we're waiting...

Thank You, Betty Macdonald

It is February--without a doubt, my least favorite month of the year. And, although this year I was bound and determined that I would busy myself and just give it and the calendar an occasional passing glance, I found that one can only polish the appliances and wash the light bulbs so many times before a little distraction sets in--even the glorious gift of time to write wasn't enticing me to stay at the keyboard as often as I normally would like.

One afternoon as I was dusting the bookshelf in my basement office, I came across an old book that my mom had given me long ago, Betty Macdonald's Onions in the Stew.  I'm not sure if it was given to my mom from my Grandma Lois, if it was a flea market find or a Bingo prize, but I had let it season on the shelf for a good while. And now the time seemed ripe to give it a read. I had, the week earlier, started to read The Sound and the Fury, that light-hearted little ditty by Faulkner. I waded molasses-slow through the first few pages, only to declare that  I was at an age where I didn't  have to read  what didn't appeal to me, no matter how classic...this one was tossed in the bag to head to Goodwill for the next poor book-loving sap. So, I poured a cup of coffee and sat down in my comfy chair to give Betty's book a try.

A tear-wiping, rib-aching half hour later,  I reluctantly sat the book down to get supper started. When a spare moment popped up, I went back to the book. I haven't laughed this hard for a long, long time. I haven't been this entertained by an author for even longer than that.

 Betty Macdonald has a way of telling a story that makes writing look easy (although those of us who struggle in the attempt know how diligently she worked). Sadly, she only lived to be fifty years old; according to Wikipedia, she died of cancer at this young age.  Yet, within that short span of time, she wrote some great stuff--including the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle series and The Egg and I, which inspired the Ma and Pa Kettle movie series (again, from Wikipedia).

 Of course, she writes earnestly and hilariously about herself, her family, and her neighbors, so it netted her some trouble along the way with the occasional law suit and hurt feelings (brutal honesty can be rough--and once again, a nod to Wikipedia for my vast knowledge of this lady's life).

 Political correctness or not, I say a very large thank you to Betty Macdonald for allowing me, on a day like today when February is still looming, the appliances are already shiny, and the freezing rain has now turned into massive snow flakes outside my door,  to ignore it all and escape to Vashon Island and all its over-grown, malfunctioning, and generally hilarious environs.

 

The lightbulb washing can wait.

Garden Seed Catalogs--It's a Giddy Time!

The garden seed catalogs have arrived! For those of us who love to plant, nurture, grow, and harvest the seeds found in those catalogs, it's a giddy time indeed!

Looking through a seed catalog now is akin to my perusing the pages of a Sears Christmas catalog as a child. Just as the Christmas catalog got more dog-eared as Christmas drew nearer, the gardening season calendar can be measured by the more and more ragged pages of the numerous seed catalogs that accompany me throughout my day. Page after colorful page of luscious lettuces, cherry-red radishes, tantalizing tomatoes, and herbs of every imaginable aroma and taste. Gardens of flowers, from delicate snow drops to towering sunflowers grace those pages of gardening bliss.

The snow may fall, the chilling winds may blow and the icicles may extend off our gutters to dizzying lengths, but there's a warm, cozy little garden being planted on the planning board at my desk--I can almost smell the fragrance.  

Resolution Revolution

Made those resolutions for 2015? Me either.

 Well, I guess that's not completely accurate. I'm acting on a resolution I made to myself back earlier this summer. It actually takes on more of the form of a resolution revolution. While push mowing grass at my sister's -in-law home back in August, I had some time all to myself to nothing much more than think. And, as I was pondering over our eventual return to our home and lifestyle, it occurred to me that I no longer wanted to be a jack of all trades/master of few. No, I made a resolution at that moment to decrease my ambitions to a nice, neat little grouping.  Like one of my favorite authors once said, "Simplify, simplify, simplify".

Becoming less ambitious...it's a thrilling experience.

For years, my ambitions were, well, just way too ambitious. I always joked that when anyone asked me what I liked, I could simply answer, "Yes." It was exhausting. I liked too many things and wanted to learn too many things. My days pretty much became endless scenarios of  "mile wide/inch deep" experiences. Literally being away from my sources of hobbies/learning/experiences this summer truly helped me  refocus on what really matters to me. More inch wide/mile deep--true passions in life.

Writing, for example--so writing gets much more attention these days. Every day, as a matter of fact. 

Come spring, gardening  gets much more of my attention. In the meantime, the seed catalogs are getting pretty dog-eared.

Photography--a connection of the two passions.

And, so, on this  dawn of a fresh new year, my revolution has begun. No massive list of goals; no list at all. Just a joy that comes with each word I pen, each plant I nurture, each photo I capture.

Viva la revolution!