Camaraderie

When I was attending UW-Eau Claire, there was a popular bar on Water St. called Camaraderie. It was an appropriate name for a place to hang out with friends to "enjoy a spirit of friendly good fellowship." (Webster's Collegiate Dictionary) Unfortunately, "the Cam" was destroyed in a fire a few years ago--and it's ironic that I now find my greatest moments of camaraderie around the campfire at the Amberg Hilton.
This weekend we held our annual canoe/kayak/cabin weekend with some of Fred's work colleagues, their spouses, and local friends who have cabins or homes near the Hilton. Five of us arrived on Friday, and after dinner spent several hours around the fire. There is no better place to tell stories, make digs at each other, and enjoy a few beers. We were in bed around 10:30 to be ready for the busy day Saturday when the rest of the group arrived to go down the river.
It was another beautiful day, just like last weekend, and the Pike was up a foot after two days of rain during the week. Fred and Gene had kayaked the upper part of the river Friday, and it was fast and deep--great for sailing over the big rocks that normally stick up just beneath the surface and tip the canoe, or send you downstream backwards. Fred and Paul launched just below Bull's Falls in the canoe, with Sandy and Gene in kayaks. They met up with Annie and Lori in the raft on the way, doing the upper river with just a few spills--mainly due to downed trees in the water. At the County K bridge, we loaded up the canoe and kayaks in the truck and set off to do the rest of the river in the raft: Annie, Lori, Michael, Mendy, Gene, Sandy, Fred, and ME!! YES! I actually let myself be talked into my first trip down the river in 17 years! I was the official photographer, and got some good pictures as we approached the rapids. Another kayaker had told us that there was a large pine tree completely across the river right above a big rapids called "the Chute." He said we could probably make it under if we ducked or "limboed" as the raft passed beneath. As we made the approach, we saw that the tree had some sharp spines sticking out the bottom of the trunk!! We all dove haphazardly as low as we could get, and made it under the tree, a lost hat and a few minor scrapes the only damage. We couldn't even catch our breath before entering the big rapids--but we made it down without incident. We almost lost Mendy in another rapids when the raft was going sideways and a wave slammed us. She fell backwards off the side of the raft--her foot in the safety strap all that kept her from dumping in. Fred and Sandy grabbed her and hauled her back in, amidst a lot of yelling by some of us as the others kept paddling through the rough water. Mendy was amazingly calm considering it was her first experience on the Pike. We made it to the end of the trip, happy and excited by the adrenaline and the teamwork that got us there. (Not that I did anything but scream a lot.)
Then it was again dinner time and another campfire, but with over twice as many friends as the night before. It's amazing how you can have conversations around the fire with people you just met that day, and it feels like you've been friends a long time. I guess part of it is the lack of pretense in that setting--who's trying to be making an impression when they're sunburned, recently soaked with river water, and swatting mosquitoes?!
Someone suggested going around the circle and having everyone tell a story from their childhood/youth. Michael shared how his dad, the town cop, caught him and his friends in the local strip joint during a raid! Annie told about shopping with her family in Sears as a little girl, and pooping in one of the display toilets! Lots of laughing and joking, all the while gazing into the flames of the magical, ever-changing, fascinating fire.
It was another successful get-together: nobody drowned, perfect weather, and great friends. As my grandma used to write in her local "news" column in the weekly paper: "A good time was had by all."

News Briefs from Silver Lake Road

With Monday being a holiday, this week has flown by. I did write a few letters, but for those of you who aren't receiving one, here's the scoop.
--I looked out the window Wednesday and discovered a row of blooming lilac bushes and a flowering crab along the edge of the yard! The two days of rain must have brought out the blossoms--I'd thought they were just scraggly, nondescript bushes. I had all the windows open yesterday, and the lilacs smelled like heaven! Two hummingbirds also showed up around my birdfeeders, so I quickly put some nectar out for them and can watch them when I'm working in the kitchen.
--The cats have discovered that if they eat grass outside, they can come in and puke it up on the rugs later.
--I met another neighbor when I was walking the dogs. He told me that bobcats and cougars have been sighted around here. Great. Bears are starting to sound downright cuddly.
--Our entry forms for the Rump Roast Run are still sitting here. I meant to send them in last month, then got sick...then started getting cold feet. Are Fred and I really ready to do this? It's called a RUN, not WALK--I have to think on it some more.
--The personalized grave markers that I ordered for Beatle and Kimo, our dogs who died last year, arrived this week. They say "Pets leave paw prints on our hearts" along with their birth and death dates. I'll take them to the cabin to put on their graves in the red pine. We still miss them!
--There is a brand spanking new shiny red riding lawnmower sitting in our garage. The lawn desperately needs mowing, but Fred doesn't want me to use it until he gets back from the cabin and checks it over. I'm supposed to be studying the manual for my quiz, but I haven't even looked at it yet. Maybe I'll become such a good driver that I can enter the lawnmower races in Amberg on Labor Day Weekend (or is it 4th of July?) That's what Ambergers consider to be a swell time. It is probably a lot easier than running a 5K!
--Today I head back to the cabin for our annual canoe/kayak weekend with people Fred knows from work. The Pike is a foot higher than it was last weekend after an inch and a half of rain, so he's not sure it will be ok to take novices down the river. I don't do the canoeing part anyway because rushing, foamy water sort of terrifies me! I canoed with Fred a few times before we were married, just to show him I was adventurous and fun-loving--and when I heard the roar of a rapids ahead on my first trip, I practically wet my pants. I think I've only canoed once since the wedding. Fred calls it "the facade." He says once a woman takes a bite of wedding cake, the facade starts to crumble and we stop doing a lot of things we supposedly enjoyed before. (Oh yeah?! Well men conveniently forget how to make their own sandwiches and share the remote!) But that's another blog...
This Just In: Nothing too exciting is happening on Silver Lake Road. But that's ok--we like it that way.

Clutterflies

I sit down at the table to eat my morning bagel and have to push aside the pile of mail that Fred hasn't gone through yet. I go upstairs to change clothes and trip over the basket of clean laundry that I'd meant to put away the last time I was up there. I search fruitlessly through the layers of customs forms, soldier letters, greeting cards, and address labels that is the top of my desk, not finding the tiny piece of paper I'm looking for.
Clutter. How does an innocent little stack of magazines suddenly obscure the coffee table and swallow the remote? Why is the chair in the bedroom only sat in by cast-off clothes and a cat or two? I guess I do know why, but it means admitting to a smidgeon of laziness. I thought the situation would improve once the girls moved out, but it hasn't much. Guess what?! Fred and I are "clutterflies", too. He takes a tape measure out of the junk drawer to measure something and then leaves it sitting on the entryway table. He might need it again in a week or six months, right? Why put those black shoes by the front door back in the closet when I know I'll eventually have to go to another funeral? I gradually make a little pile of stuff on the stairway to take up on my next trip--which I repeatedly forget to do. I've always wanted one of those step baskets, and now would be a great time to get one as my CRS (Can't Remember S***) worsens.
The recyclables need to go down to the basement, the computer desk is covered with paid bills that need to be filed, the guest bed is covered with pictures and other stuff I've used for my blogs. Hey, I'm an artiste! When the creative muse is upon me, do I have time to put everything back where it came from?!
Besides the laziness factor, clutter tends to develop when it's an especially busy week of being in and out of the house. A two-day trip to Elk Mound, a weekend at the cabin--not enough time in between to sort the mail and clear off the counter--just to add to what's already there.
There are people who actually get paid to declutter other people's homes. What a racket! There is a simple solution to clutter, duh: a place for everything and everything in its place. Until we take the time to faithfully practice that axiom, no amount of education from an "expert" will make a long-term difference.
I'm really going to try to be better about putting things away. Maybe I'll write a greeting card about it: "Live with a cluttered house no more. Throw it all in the closet and shut the door."
In the meantime, please don't drop in unexpectedly. And remember, a little clutter never hurt anybody--unless Fred trips over my growing pile on the stairs!

You Gotta Have Friends

Yesterday I had lunch with Cindy, whom I had never met before. We have a mutual friend in Eau Claire who gave Cindy my address when we moved to Rhinelander. She sent me a card to welcome me to the area, and after a couple phone calls we made plans to meet for lunch.
Meeting a stranger for a meal is kind of like a blind date, without the stress of worrying I'll be cute enough. But there's still the fear of having nothing to say but awkward small talk, having little in common, or getting something caught in my front teeth.
Fortunately none of those things happened. At times our conversation was so lively that I noticed other people in the small cafe listening in. (especially one guy when I was talking about the Harley!) Cindy and I both attended UW-Eau Claire, were teachers, have kids and grandkids, like walking and reading, and are afraid of heights and meeting up with a bear on our walks. You get the idea...there was no shortage of things to talk about. We plan to meet again soon to go walking and share books we've enjoyed.
Does hitting it off with someone new come more easily the older we get? Or do we just click with certain people? It's probably a little of both. I think at our age, we care less about making impressions and just enjoy the moment--and we're lucky when we make a connection that has the potential for friendship. I've had friends who were/are in their 70s and 80s, and others who are in their 20s and 30s; friends I see regularly and others I know solely through e-mails and letters. The link is obviously not based on chronological compatibility or proximity, but rather a connection between outlooks, humor, and hearts.
It's comforting to know that we can leave the familiar, move to new places, and there are still friends out there we just haven't met yet.

When You Care Enough to Write Your Own

I mentioned before that I sold some greeting card ideas in the '90s--one of which is pictured at right. I wrote the sentiment, and an artist did the drawing and got the credit on the back of the card. I sold 3 ideas, and for every one I sold, I'd say I had 25 or more rejected. You'd think it would be easy to write them--they're short! It's not like thinking up a book or a screenplay. But it's actually the brevity of the idea you're trying to convey that creates the challenge: you need to get your message across in just a few words, for a specific occasion, in a way that will appeal to as many buyers as possible. Women between the ages of 18 and 50 are the prime senders of greeting cards, and most of my ideas were aimed at them.

O: You know you're getting old when your husband suggests getting some action in the sheets...
I: ...and you go do the laundry. Happy Birthday!!

I thought that one was amusing and could definitely relate to it, but it was a reject. I also liked this one:
O: I figured out why I can't lose weight.
I. Lettuce doesn't come in 33 flavors.
The editor was probably skinny and didn't get the humor--and truth--in that statement.

O: Happy birthday to a woman who's a gale force at work and a whirlwind at home.
I: No wonder your house looks like a cyclone hit it. (Maybe the Good Witch of the North will stop by and vacuum!)
I'd guess this might have been too long--or insulting? Unfortunately, when they return your rejected ideas, they don't tell you what they didn't like about them.
Another guideline usually suggested is not to write rhyming verses. I followed that rule, but I think it's the companies' loss that they didn't give my iambic verse a try.

"You're not the one I'm looking for; I've changed the locks on all the doors.
Your stuff is piled in the yard, but I will keep your credit card."
Wouldn't that have mass appeal?! Or, "Sorry your marriage went down the tubes; but now you can afford new boobs."
Another criteria is that the occasion the card is recognizing must be a common one; if it's too limited, there's no commercial value in buying the idea. There's likely not much demand for this sentiment:
O: You have given "the change" a whole new meaning!
I: Congratulations on your sex reassignment surgery!

So, I guess I will invest in a new Writers Market, see how the guidelines have changed in the past 15 years, and try my hand at this again. I may just decide to freelance on my own, too, since silliness is constantly running through my head--especially when I'm walking. Here's my ad:
"If you need a card for a special occasion--birthday, retirement, tubal ligation--
Send me an e-mail with all of the facts, the inside jokes, the smart-aleck cracks;
To roast, to toast, be nice or rotten; I'll write you a card that won't be forgotten!
So get me your order for Jane, Sue or Tom. Write cherbearem@yahoo.com!"

9.5

That's the number I'm giving my weekend at the Amberg Hilton. Half a point was lost for the ticks, mosquitoes, and no-see-ums that were "bugging" us whenever we were in the woods or anywhere away from the campfire. I just pulled a tick off my leg as I sit here!
Saturday Fred and I headed to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan around noon. We have taken several trips around the U.P. in the past 5 years, and we like it because the border is only six miles from the cabin--and most Yoopers are Packer fans, too! The original plan was to ride to Lake Michigan (Green Bay--the body of water, not the city) but we ended up going to Marquette on Lake Superior instead. We have a fascination with the big lake, its mystique, the lives lived and lost in its cold waters. I hum the "Edmund Fitzgerald" to myself as we head north from Escanaba. It was 69 degrees when we stopped there for gas, and 48 when we got to Marquette! We were freezing, so stopped for lunch and to warm up for awhile. After a quick ride along the lakefront, gazing out across the seemingly endless water to the horizon, we hurried back inland to warmer temperatures. I dozed off once and pulled back on Fred--he yelped and woke me up before I could fall off. Seven hours, 250 miles--great day. We capped it off with a campfire and a couple beers back at the Hilton.
Yesterday was another beautiful day weather-wise, and we had friends from Rhinelander come for a visit. While Fred and Mike dug a big rock out of one of our roads through the woods, Bonnie and I checked out the "Biggest Rummage Sale Ever" just a few miles down the road. I bought some games to send to soldiers, great deal for $4.50! After lunch, we headed to Dave's Falls Park to trek around the waterfalls. "Dave" was a logger who died in a logjam in the fast-moving gorge long ago, when they still used the Pike River to move timber. We always take first-time friends who come up for canoeing to see this falls--and tell them that's where we put the canoes in! There are shocked pale faces when they see the rushing water and hear that. We hiked through the park, crossing the railroad bridge over the river. Somebody always yells "TRRAAIIN!" as I'm practically crawling across it on my hands and knees, paralyzed with fear of heights AND water! From there we headed to Piers Gorge, another falls near Norway, MI on the Menomonee River. We got to see two big rafts go through the rapids, and some young guys in kayaks were about to go down after them. I definitely missed out on the adventure/courage gene along the line--no way would I attempt that!
Mike and Bonnie left after supper, and we drove to the cemetery to visit Fred's family's graves and make sure they looked nice for today. There are numerous veterans buried there, and the flags decorating all the graves are a sight to behold. We walked around--which we've done many times--reading the stones. I like wandering through cemeteries, but I don't plan to be buried in one.
This morning early, we did a load of firewood. Fred made pancakes for breakfast, and I did a huge batch of dishes before leaving for home. He is staying there all week, and we'll have people up for our annual canoe trip next weekend. I was the big winner in gin, taking $5.00 from him in 2 days!
We're grateful to the veterans and military members who made our 9.5 weekend possible. May they all stay safe and come home soon.

Remember Their Sacrifice

Many of us will be doing something special with this 3-day weekend--but how many people really think about what Memorial Day recognizes? As far as patriotism is concerned, I was just the average person who didn't give it much thought--until 9/11/01. After that day, I felt a real connection to other Americans and to the military that protects and defends us, both now and in the past. That feeling made me want to take action, and led to my using anysoldier.com to support as many troops as I could. I learned that it's possible to care for and worry about people I've never met who put their lives in danger every day on behalf of me, my family, and our country.
My great-uncle Charlie was a POW of the Germans in World War II. He didn't share much of that experience with the family when he returned. Fred's dad, Lester, was in a tank division at the Battle of the Bulge and was awarded the Bronze Star. He never talked about what he did and saw there either--all that history lost when he died in 1987.
Few of us think of the hardships endured by the men and women who have ensured our freedom for the past 200+ years. We take their protection for granted until it affects us personally--which for most people, it won't. Two parents from the anysoldier.com forum have lost sons this year in our current wars. CWO Matthew Kelley, son of my friend Cathi from Osborn, MO, was killed in Iraq on Jan. 26 when his helicopter was shot down. He was 30 years old, married, with two children. Cathi and I haven't met, but our relationship through e-mails and letters was enough to make Matthew's death very personal to me. Last month, Bob, another forum member, received the news that his 21-year-old son Rick DeWater had been killed in action in Afghanistan. Deployed to the Korengal Valley, one of the most dangerous places in the country, Rick died from wounds sustained in an IED explosion. For Cathi and Bob, Memorial Day will take on a whole new meaning as they cope with these tragedies.
For those without a personal connection, the holiday should still be more than picnics, ball games, and an extra day off from work. It doesn't take much effort to attend a parade, visit a cemetery, or thank a veteran or current service member--before the opportunity is gone. If it weren't for all of them, all of our lives would be very different--and not for the better.
Thank you to all who have served, are now serving, and to their families for sharing them with us. We will remember. www. anysoldier.com