A Little Bit of Home

I've been feeling pretty homesick lately.  I always do in the Fall ... and then there's the holidays, but we won't go there right now.  I think perhaps I long for home because I was born in Autumn on a beautiful "Indian Summer" day (except I was born at night).  This year the pull is stronger.  It could be my approaching birthday or the chill in the air or the leaves turning colors and just maybe it is because I have not been home in a year and a half.  I just have this need to spend time with family and revel in the familiarities of my childhood; though I must also acknowledge so much has changed.  There are just times when some small reminder of home would be nice and then it happens in an unlooked for place.  I've mentioned our new community owned and volunteer run grocery store.  I enjoy taking my turn volunteering there.  When entering a new establishment, it's natural to want to check out and compare the products to see what is available in our store as opposed to those in neighboring towns where we have had to shop for the past twelve years.  Everyone was oohing and ahhing over cheese curds in the dairy case.  I know cheese curds are great, but I also know we are carrying cheese from a local cheesemaker and these curds simply could not be as good as those from the Dairy State.  OK, so I'm a cheese snob; but I grew up in Wisconsin, so give me a break!  Well, the temptation was too much!  Last week when Hubby and I were shopping we had to try the curds and bought a small package.  They were really good and we were duly impressed.  Meanwhile, the weather changed, and a huge pot of soup is in order.  We needed to pick up a few items to go along with the soup.  This time we bought a big bag of the cheese curds because the smaller package didn't last long.  I ladled the soup and, after a prayer, Hubby starts reading the package containing the curds.  He tells me to read the package.  That's right.  The curds are made in Wisconsin.  I'm still homesick; nevertheless, a little bit of home helps.

Life in a Hamlet

Oh the bane of small rural towns!  There's nothing to do ... there's no place to go ... It's like a ghost town ...  How can you live in a place like this?  All are comments I have heard about the small town I live in.  Several years ago my family hosted an exchange student from Germany.  When the coordinator came to visit to inspect our family and home to ensure the well being of the visiting student we went over the various forms.  When filling out the forms, I listed the size of our town as 'small'.   The coordinator said we should more accurately describe our town as a 'hamlet'.  Ouch!  Our town wasn't always this small.  Obviously, it began small; but then grew to boast a couple of groceries, restaurants, mercantile, phone exchange, movie theatre, drug store, liquor store, shoe store, seven different churches, two gas stations, bank, grade school, high school, train station and the grain elevator.  We were actually a booming town at one time.  Then the wars happened and the younger generations decided living in a small rural town or farming the family farm wasn't the ideal for their life.  No blame is meant here.  This happened and still happens all over the world.  It is as if society goes on some bizarre diet and soon the town begins to shrink.  Businesses fail as some move away and others refuse to support what they have.  What's a small town supposed to do when it has heard the death knoll?  We can't all shrivel up and die!  The town I live in lost it's schools to a consolidated school district comprised of the students from five different towns years before we moved here.  It had lost most of its businesses and all but two of the churches as well, and one of those churches doesn't have a weekly service due to its hierarchy.  We still had the grain elevator, the bank, a gas/service station, restaurant, grocery store and one church.  A Day Care has come into town and lasted.  Other businesses have tried and failed.  We lost our Post Office.  The restaurant has struggled, opening and closing under new operators.  The grocery store foundered and died.  Through it all we had a long-time mayor who worked very hard to keep the town going.  He, too, passed away a few years ago.  Some saw a need and formed a Community Association which began working to stay the hands of time, if you will.  This group has since joined a statewide PRIDE organization which fosters the continuation and growth of small towns.  A committee formed and worked on grants to see a new park which was completed this summer.  The  restaurant is stronger.  Two years years ago one enterprising man from the community purchased and began renovating several of the rundown buildings on Main Street.  Within the past couple of months a fitness center has opened and so has a beauty/barber shop.  The community got together and worked on developing a community owned grocery store.  The store opened a little over a week ago.  It is non-profit and run totally by volunteers.  We may be small and seemingly going nowhere; nevertheless, the spirit of the community still lives and we are seeing new growth!  We are going strong after 125 years!

Goodness to the Last Drop

What a nice day it was today ... Saturday ... some might say lazy; some might say relaxing.  I would like to defend myself in saying I did actually do something more than sit around drinking coffee.  I did some yard work, washed dishes, worked on my book, picked up a few things, folded and stuffed the bulletins for worship services, prepared dinner and a dish for a potluck tomorrow and gave moral support.  It was mid day when I heard today is National Coffee Day.  I don't know why I hadn't heard this sooner.  Didn't this take place just a few months ago?  It doesn't really matter.  I was guzzling my third huge mug of the day when I got the news.  I was talking on the phone at the time.  I just nodded incredulously, smiled and took another slurp before it got cold.  I'm not really certain why we need a special day for love of coffee.  Coffee aficionados know who they are.  Many begin their lifelong love for the heavenly brew when they are mere children.  Others are led down the path out of necessity when they are deep in studies.  Some must wait until full blown adulthood when they are introduced at the workplace, a restaurant or kiosk, or simply when dining with friends.  Whatever their association is and when it began is irrelevant.  It's not as if they must attend CC (Coffee Cuddlers) meetings.  Don't most coffee drinkers ... at least the true devotees celebrate the goodness every day?  Do coffee drinkers really need an excuse to have another cup?  I think not!  Nevertheless, I drank my share and did my best to celebrate.  So, here's to coffee drinkers everywhere:  Drink up and may Mrs. Olsen smile upon you!

The Televison Season

The new season of television shows is up and running.  It's strange how the notion of season in TV Land has changed over the years.  I'm not certain how the seasons began when television was young.  I think many of the shows were presented live.  Longer ago a series seemed to run the length of the school year with time off for various specials just as students had time off for Christmas vacation.  Reruns were the select few episodes that were able to fit into the summer months when most people were busy or on vacation.  If you had a series you particularly enjoyed, you hoped to be able to see a rerun if your parents didn't have you doing something or going somewhere.  Now, a new show may premier in the Fall, Winter, Spring or Summer.  A television network may broadcast anywhere from one to six episodes before reruns are rebroadcast of at least the first episode, if not all of them.  The series may be off for several weeks as the required number of CMA shows and nauseating bachelor type "reality"shows have been shown before the networks bring back something someone might actually desire to watch.  I mean really, who makes these decisions anyway?  I do not apologize here for the failure of television networks to produce high calibre entertainment.  Even some of the History channels broadcasts have been lacking of late.  ... At any rate, at this point, we are either continuing the season or entering into a new season.  It is a bit confusing especially when previews are shown for a series that looks interesting and then you find out you don't have that channel on your plan.  Nevertheless, the Fall season has begun and I have been able to see a couple of series pick up where their cliffhanger endings left off last May.  There are a couple of new series I would at least like to give a chance.  Stay tuned for my opinions.  We now return you to your regular broadcast channels.

A Sound of Music

Music has charms to soothe the savage beast.  That's the old saying.  There's a lot of wisdom passed down in the old saws.  The actual word here is 'saw' referring to a maxim or a proverb and derived from the word 'saga'.  Interesting ... but I had intended to write about music today and that was before I heard about the passing of Andy Williams.  I loved listening to him sing and had a collection of his albums which were unfortunately lost in a fire years ago.  It was definitely one of those situations when you are more concerned about the safety of those involved instead of the objects that might be lost.  And yes, listening to Andy could really soothe one's nerves.  He had that quality about his  voice.  While baking bread today, I was, in fact, thinking about  music and it's effect on people and pets, having heard a segment on the news the other evening in which a young couple was faced with the challenge of calming a screaming infant.  Nothing worked until they played the theme song from "Star Wars".  This song alone seemed to quiet the child.  It is strange the way music can calm or irritate us.  As I kneaded the dough and prepared the loaves to put in the pans I was watching one of my cats.  She was in my line of vision as she groomed herself  and then laid down for one of her naps.  Angel is an elderly tabby and like most of the pets in our family throughout the years, a foundling.  She has grown cranky and demanding in her latter years.  We put up with her.  She is family.  We love her.  Hubby had left to make calls and the radio station he has set up on his computer was playing a mix of easy listening and soft jazz instrumentals.  It was comical to watch Angel's sudden reaction to "Cast Your Fate to the Wind".  Her ear shot up.  She was obviously listening and enjoying the music as she more or less kept time with her tail.  We've had other pets who seem to enjoy a certain type of music or a specific entertainer over another and come from wherever to to entertained.  My favorite was Olav our big Maine Coon cat or Norwegian Forest cat (we were never quite certain of his breed).  Truly my cat, Olav loved classical music.  His favorite piece was Beethoven's 6th Symphony.  The opening strains would bring him from wherever he was in the house to the source of the music whether it was radio, stereo or television.  He would knead the carpet and lay down to listen kneading the air with his huge paws.  Babies, pets, animals and most people enjoy music.  Today we lost a wonderful performer.  Rest with God, Andy.  May you find that rainbow's end, waiting round the bend of Moon River ... 

Everybody is a Packers Fan

We'd been married a little more than a month when we headed west to the state of Washington to serve my husband's year of vicarage.  He had grown up there and the assignment was a blessing in that I was allowed the opportunity to get acquainted with his family and he was able to spend time with his dad during his final year of life.  But, I digress here ... My brother-in-law, who was in his early teens at the time, greeted us when we arrived by very excitedly announcing "Mom got tickets to the Seahawks!" ... Did I mention we were newlyweds?  You try to please your in-laws, but sometimes the words innocently slip out.  "What in the world is a Seahawk?" I queried.  I honestly had no idea.  We had good seats.  What do I mean 'good'?  They were great seats, in fact.  It was a good game, though I don't recall if they won or lost or who they played for that matter, but I think it was San Fransisco.  ... Have I mentioned I am from Wisconsin?  Do you know anything about the Packers, Wisconsin, and cheeseheads?  Everybody is a Packers fan in Wisconsin even if you have no understanding of the game of football.  This is serious devotion to the game and loyalty to the team here.  I can remember the overwhelming sense of sadness when Bart Starr retired.  I was just a girl.  A card was available in the school office for all the students to sign if they wanted to wish him well.  The list of names stretched out the door and all the way down the corridor.  Yes, I got choked up when he was shown at the Super Bowl game.  I also had a classmate who was related to Ray Nitschke.  That was a real 'WOW factor' for our class!  And then there was Vince Lombardi.  What can I say?  What a coach!  Packers fever has just continued to grow throughout the years.  Now, our daughters cheer the Pack on with the best of them.  It was a thrill to tour Lambeau Field a few years ago and we proudly fly the Packers flag for their games.  Televised coverage is great if the game isn't blacked out becasue we do not live in Wisconsin and our residential state team may be playing at the same time.  The internet helps, providing coverage and instant commentary by friends and relatives all glued to the game.  Sad as it may seem, I have to admit I am one of the fans who doesn't really understand the game; nevertheless, even I could have made a better call than the refs duringlast night's game between the Packers and the Seahawks!  Oh yeah, for whatever it's worth, Hubby is a Packers fan!

It's Time to Celebrate Fall

I absolutely love this time of the year.  My affinity is difficult to explain.  The weather starts to chill and one would think there might be an overwhelming sense of ending as the harvest is brought in forever changing the lives of the plants from whence our sustenance comes.  I see a richness heightened by thoughts and colors of warmth and family.  Imagine the year in colors.  Spring with its lively step is filled with pastels and new life; summer is imbued with hearty, full shades depicting the solidity of established life; and winter is dark, crisp and cold leaving an icy starkness.  It is Autumn with its rich deep hues of reds, browns, greens and golds that speaks to a full sense of accomplishment.  Even the trees are adorned with glorious shades as they proclaim their praise of a year well served before strewing their leaves in great  accolades to be crunched under foot by nature's revellers.  The very word 'Autumn' seems elegant augmenting the notion of fall and seems to draw the mind towards a sense of hearth and home, firelight, and smells of spice.  Families and friends congregate to enjoy games, bonfires, food, and stories as festivities move between the outside and inside of sheltered estates.  Good grief ... this is a bit flowery even for you, Kathy!  Who cares about all that?  Let's just watch some football!  Nevertheless, some do care.  It's time to celebrate Fall!

It's Hobbit Day!

Today is Hobbit Day declared so by fans of J.R.R. Tolkien and, in part, in anticipation of Peter Jackson's upcoming film trilogy based on Tolkien's book The Hobbit.  Why was today, the first day of autumn, chosen?  Anyone who has read Tolkien's books can tell you September 22nd is the joint birthday celebration of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins.  It is also the day (their birthdays) on which adventures begin and come to their conclusion.  Picnics, pubs, readings, film marathons, the internet, and birthday parties will bring devotees together around the globe to share their enthusiasm for the films and the books.  Pathetic, silly, and nonsense some might denounce these celebrations undertaken by a weird bunch of nerdy losers.  Really?  Is camaraderie over a story any worse, or different for that matter, than people getting together to watch groups of all ages running around and tussling over a ball or throwing a ball into a hoop or hitting a ball with a stick or driving a car or engaging in pugilistics?  We think nothing of watching sports and purchasing all manner of sports related memorabilia and clothing.  Why should we criticize those who care more about books or the arts or academics.  The world is made up of all different types of people.  What an uninteresting planet this would be if we were all exactly alike.  Now, how about another piece of cake, Mr. Baggins?

Life Creates a Hiatus

Well, it's been a while and all I can say is 'Sorry about that!'  Don't know why but the title 'Death Takes a Holiday' springs to mind, though no one has died, at least not in the sense of my long break.  It is more rather a sense of 'Life creates a hiatus'.  This seems much more fitting, though I haven't even had any sort of vacatin, yet ... except it would seem from my blog.  My schedule just grew to be a little bit hectic.  So the question is where have I been and what have I been up to?  Yes, I know that is two questions and not one.  Remember I can get a little wordy and if it seemed appropriate here, I would insert a winking emoticon.  The answer to the first question is quite simple:  I've been right here.  Ok, so if I'm honest I have been within a 50 mile radius of my computer.  The answer to the second is more exciting depending upon your point of view and your thoughts concerning Church and State.  The first portion of the summer was spent preparing for and instructing sessions of old-fashioned Vacation Bible School at each of the parishes we serve.  The totality of June through August ... except for the part about VBS ... was spent in meetings, arranging and running around to set up the celebration of our town's Quasquicentennial - a big fancy word meaning 125 years.  I was priveleged to work on the planning committe with a great group of people and honored to serve as the chair.  Was it a wonderful celebration?  Yes!  Am I glad it is over?  Yes!  Since the celebration the end of August, there has been some paperwork to complete and acknowledgments to get out as the committe gradualy winds down and recovers.  Through it all, I don't want you to think I have been totally slacking off with my book.  I have completed an edit, numbered the chapters, pared my synopsis, written a back cover blurb and worked on my query letter.  Nevertheless, I have not forgotten about you and have even spared my blog a moment or two of guilt from time to time as various topics flooded my mind like waves washing the shore only to recede leaving pebbles and bits and pieces of who knows what in their wake.  Now it is time to get back on track, sift through the pebbles and put pen to paper ... or fingers to keyboard ... once more.  Or, in other words, as Samwise Gamgee would say "Well, I'm back."

The yellow brick road

Today marks the anniversary of the birth of Frank L. Baum (May 15, 1856 - May 6, 1919) author of The wizard of Oz and a whole series of delightful tales centering on the mythical land of Oz.  I have often wondered why he chose the home of Dorothy Gale one of his most notorious characters as a small rural setting in the state of Kansas.  If one has ever visited the Sunflower State, it would soon be obvious by the 'slight' breezes.  Even Dorothy's surname proclaims the propensity for forceful gusts of wind.  It is not a well-known fact that even though Chicago is nicknamed 'the Windy City', central Kansas is actually a windier locale.  The tornadic weather from time to time naturally leant to the whole story of Dorothy's farmhouse drawn up through a swirling storm and plopped unceremoniously down where it did not belong.  These were facts I could readily accept even as a child while watching the classic film or reading Mr. Baum's books.  Little did I ever think I would one day reside in Kansas and in fact had never visited the state before my family moved here some years ago.  When one thinks of Kansas one autoimatically thinks of Dorothy and her ruby slippers.  Being short of stature I was struck by the number of fellow members  of the vertically challenged masses.  I have thought Mr. Baum must surely have visited Kansas at one time to have such insight into the number of smaller people and my mind readily accepted a reasoning for the beloved characters known as Munkins.  Well, all this is well and good, but Mr. Baum really missed the mark with the 'yellow brick road'.   I realize he passed on nearly a century ago, but seriously, had he ever travelled the roads in Kansas he would be well aware that it is the cities and larger towns that have paved roads; rural areas are lucky to have gravel and the gravel is actually huge chunks of sharp rock that ruin many a tire on our modern vehicles such at the automobile.  Sometimes they put down a couple layers called 'chip and seal'.  This like the rocky gravel is cared for by graders called 'maintainers' which push the debris to the sides and then back into the center of the roads which, by the way, have no shoulders.  All too soon any stretch of road is pocked with huge ruts and gaping holes to resemble a war zone.  Finally enough citizens complain and the right politicians tour an area and after years of patchwork and hemming and hawing something might be done about the roads.  I am very gratreful and proud to say the time has come for our small hamlet sized town.  It isn't a yellow brick road; nevertheless, we finally have a paved road leading to one of the entrances of our town. To the members of our community, having a road paved with asphalt is tantamount to having a road paved with gold.   It might be too much to ask, I suppose, to have the other roads done as well.  Or would it?  Don't make me call the flying monkeys!

Right on, Hilary!

I will rarely talk politics.  They tend to annoy me.  Without further adieu, I will also freely state the topic of politics I have reserved for a future blog post.  With this said, I must say, political views aside, I will applaud anyone who can get the job done.  I have gained a whole new respect for Hilary Clinton over the past couple of years.  There is a degree of hindsight that makes one pause to consider the manner in which she might have served as our President.  Be that as it may, the timing apparently was not right and I have already stated the purpose of this post is not to discuss political views.  A couple weeks ago after viewing a morning news broadcast, friends on FB got into a discussion of Hilary's appearance and how she had 'cetainly let herself go'.  There were of course crude jokes which are both offensive and disrespectful.  My response was to the effect that the perfomance of her duties as Secretary of State would seemingly age anyone and sometimes events happen that are not conducive to perfect hair styles.  Watching tonight's broadcast of ABC's Evening News, I see ours has not been the only discussion on the topic.  Mrs. Clinton was in the news today making a statement not about politics but, rather, about life.  To paraphrase her statement, she said she is happy to be at a point in her life when what she does is more important than how people see her. If she chooses to put her hair up or pull it back she will do so for ease and comfort. The same goes for make-up and wearing her glasses instead of contacts.  She said she would allow others to worry about such things for themselves if they felt they needed to.  The point is:  we may 'view' someone for the actions they take which have an impact on life around us or we can in a more shallow manner 'see' someone soley by their appearance.  Well said, Hilary!  I commend you!

Here we go already

I am reminded of the rather caustic saying "The horn works. Try the lights!"  We live in the Great Plains region of the country.  Last year it was just plain hot!  I'm not really complaining.  It was hot everywhere and it was, after all, summer.  One should expect some amount of warmer weather.  It seems we are never satisfied.  We compalin about heat in the summer, cold in the winter, rain if it rains, and no moisture if it doesn't.  We need to learn to be content with the state we are in.  Nevertheless, we seemed to have an inordinate amount of heat last year as records were broken and drought conditions made it worse.  Still, we managed to save a lot on the utility bills by cutting back on the amount of water we put on the garden ... it was a colossal flop but nobody had a decent garden last year.  We also kept the electic bills lower by setting the air conditioner at about 80 degrees and running fans during the day.  We ran a ceiling fan at night and could open the bedroom windows.  Everything was closed up again in the morning.  As this process seemed to work, Hubby and I agreed to do this same program this year.  We have already had temperatures in the mid 90's and brought the fans up from the basement and even and run them a couple of times.  It looks like our early spring may be marching quickly towards summer.  Last week the air conditioner was uncovered.  I was preparing dinner last night when the air kicked on.  Being frugal, we decided it was too late in the day to run the air so the unit was set at 82 degrees and flipped from 'cool' to 'off'.  The realization was made that we might have to give in and run the air today.  Sure enough, it was slightly before noon and just shy of 90 degrees outside.  Hubby had just arrived home and said we had better close up the house.  We ran around (no, not literally) and closed windows and doors.  When I said it sounded like the air was already on, he looked at the unit outside the kitchen window and assured me it wasn't running yet.  When I kept hearing something running, I placed a bare foot over one of the floor vents to discover not cool air but heat.  "Um, Honey, the furnace works.  Try the air!"

A recipe for the future?

I'm hostessing a special meeting of a ladies' group tomorrow evening.  What makes the event so special is that we will be at the home of the eldest member of the group ... she'll turn 100 years old this summer.  We met at her home a year ago and she wanted us to make sure we included her on the calendar this year.  Ladies are always watching their weight, but if we are honest we really like to eat too.  This being the case, I knew I would have to come up with a special dessert to fit the occasion and began leafing through my collection of church cookbooks.  Don't laugh!  They have the best recipes because they are all time honored and taste tested.  Having lived in various states, I possess a nice assortment.  I talked the choices over with my hubby as to ease and availability of ingredients.  I narrowed the choice down to two; one from a cookbook; and the other, a family recipe and of course I hadn't made either one of these desserts in years.  My hubby came to the rescue and made the decision I should make the family recipe.  Sounded good to me too.  I've been feeling a bit homesick lately and this is my grandmother's recipe for Pretzel Torte.  Try as I might, I could not find my copy of the recipe.  Now, I used to make this dessert a lot so I had a vague recollection but I'm trying to impress the ladies and figured I better have the real thing.  I got on Facebook and messaged my mom, one of my sisters, my aunt and four cousins.  One of them was bound to have Grandma's recipe.  Within hours as they heard my plight I received the recipe from a cousin via her phone to my e-mail.  Another cousin couldn't find her copy either and wanted me to share when I got the recipe.  My mom e-mailed me her copy that night.  Don't you just love this modern technology?  Meanwhile Hubby got on the internet and was trying to find the recipe too.  There are a lot of versions for this dessert!  My aunt had a copy but hadn't tried the recipe and  all the cousins wanted to try this too.  So I wrote up what I received and was able to message everyone.  Isn't it wonderful that we are able to contact one another in this manner and share over the internet something so connective as an old family recipe?  I've decided this would make a great family re-union.  We can pick a date which works for each of our families and each family can make Grandma's Pretzel Torte and there we have it ... a family re-union without leaving the comfort of one's own home.  Chatting and texting are already in force among so many.  Skyping would be the icing on the cake.  Voila! The family re-union of the future is born!  Somehow I don't really think this is what Grandma had in mind.

A song that never ends ...

Did you ever have one of those days?  You know the kind.  You wake up in the morning and are blithely going about your daily tasks and then it hits you ... that little noise niggling in the back of your mind until you realize it is the song you have been singing for the past half hour.  Try as you might the silly thing will not go away ... at least not for very long.  Yesterday, I kid you not, I had Leonard Nimoy singing 'The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins" traversing the Misty Mountains.  I suppose it might have been worse.  It could have been Bobby Goldsboro warbling about poor Frodo and his nine fingers.  OK, so I have to admit I enjoy the animated versions of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings (even though they could have completed the story.)  This morning, it was a Chopin polonaise.  Frequently hymns will fill my mind.  Today my hubby and I were shopping and as we were driving down the street a red rubber ball bounced and came rolling in front of us ... you guessed it, there it was "Red Rubber Ball" by the Cyrkles.  What can I say?  I like music; well, most music that is.  A criteria centers on the fact that I have to be able to understand the words so that leaves out a whole gamut of Rap, Metallic, most Country and, dare I say it, Opera. There is one song, however, that will stick in my head for days.  I can mention it as I am doing right now and it may not phase me, but should there be a music station playing and this song come on, I am sunk.  Oh no!  There is is!  The lilting march is starting and now the Beatles are singing!  "... a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine ... We all live in a yellow..." 

Fresh bread

Today I'm talking bread ... the kind you eat, not the slang for currency.  I bake my own bread.  Is there anything that smells better than fresh baked or baking bread as that wonderful aroma from those wholesome loaves wafts its way throughout the house out open windows filling the area with a sense of warmth and goodness? There is a saying that "_____ is the best thing since sliced bread."  (I"ll let you fill in the blank.)  Sliced bread certainly is a novelty when one stops to think about it, but it doesn't necessarily fit the total picture of wonderful.  Each culture has their own version of bread each providing a sense of home and satisfaction.  In many places in the world one would be hard pressed to attempt to slice bread.  To name a few, think about the Middle Eastern pitas which are folded, the tortilla which is also folded, the Norwegian lefsa which is rolled and the Ashkenazic bagel ... Ok, so modern culture has decided the bagel may be sliced latitudinally to force them into the guise of a sandwich; still, the bagel did not begin with this intent and many sticklers refuse to give in here.  While we are talking sandwiches, this was the revolutionary idea of the 18th century which developed into the notion of slicing bread and credited to the British 4th Earl of Sandwich who refused to leave off gaming for meals and required his servants to bring him a piece of meat between two pieces of bread.  Before this time, chunks of bread were broken from a loaf and slathered with creamy butter and jams.  It did not need to be sliced to enjoy its savor.  I submit that hot fresh baked bread is better than sliced bread anyway you cut it.   One can almost smell the delicious atroma ...

Let's pay it forward

Pay it forward ... what a novel idea and so simple.  I realize this has been going on for a couple of years now.  It's a shame it hasn't been going on for millennia and, to be fair, perhaps it has.  Is it possible we just haven't noticed before a time when everybody is in a world of hurt and so a nice gesture takes on new meaning?  That is the whole point:  to pay it forward is an act of giving to someone something you have even just a little bit extra of without expecting anything in return.  We might think of this as some of the milk of human kindness.  Everyone has needs and these needs are not always a tangible commodity.  Think about the manner in which a smile or laughter is able to brighten up a person's day.   What about a word of encouragement to the person who is feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.  I think everyone should try to make at least one person happy everday.  I don't mean just among our friends, although friends have needs too.  I am thinking of the person who may not be the most well-liked of our associates.  They too have needs.  Do not forget the perfect stranger and this is where the whole pay it forward program began.  I challenged my FB friends to day to give abit of encouragement to those around them as we begin a new week.  Let us all take up the challenge and follow through in our day to day lives.  We might be surprised by how much brighter our paths seem to us.

My elusive goal

Some days it is just simply difficult to attain my elusive goal.  Oh sure, I wake up in the morning with a grandiose scheme in my head as to everything that will be accomplished during the course of the day.  I do all the little things that are necesary to get myself going.  Today this included scaring our tomcat who assumed he was next in line for the shower.  I started a load of laundry and swept the floors.  Is my list still on task?  Good!  Now, how about indulging in that second mug of coffee ... Mmmm.  Might as well take a break and look over the paper or checkout things on FB.  After all, I might have missed something since the last time I was on.  Post and update.  It is important to remember I have my own page to worry about plus the page for my book.  Done?  Good!  Now, get back to work.  I have a sink full of dishes from last night and hubby wants pancakes for brunch since it's Saturday, but he'll fix them.  Yay!  I clear out the sink and hubby walks in the door.  Better pile those dishes back into the sink so he can work!  Meanwhile, I put clothes in dryer and hang tops that need to be line dried.  I help hubby by setting the table and brunch is ready.  We sit down to eat and one of our daughters calls, but we can call her back.  Brunch is over and I clear the table, but will have to wait to wash dishes because the griddle is still hot.  Then I check on the laundry and the phone rings again.  I can afford to chat amicably for a few minutes before foisting this call off onto hubby.  I finally get to call our daughter back and an hour later, before getting off the phone, she is posting a recipe on my FB page and since I am there anyway I might as well see if anything new has happened, right?  I knew you would agree.  Now, by this time the griddle is cool and I can get the dishes done.  With that task finished, I check on the laundry again and decide it is time to terrorize another one of the cats by doing the vacuuming.  Snack time!  We munch a couple crackers and drink a glass of water ... yeah, I know not very high class, but it is what it is on a Saturday.  I finally get to put the load of scatter rugs in the dryer and fold and put away the clothes that were washed today.  Sitting down at my keyboard to write this blog I am about two-thirds of the way through when my daughter calls again just to chat while she takes a break to go check on her mail.  Twenty minutes later I am back to typing and correcting all the typos made while trying to type and hold onto the phone at the same time.  Now it is time to prepare dinner and I still haven't had time to work on anything related to my book today ... sigh ...  Nevertheless, I did get a few things done and as Scarlett O'hara would say, "Tomorrow is another day."

Lest we forget

Lest we forget - today is the day of Yom HaShoah in the nation of Isreal - the Day of Remembrance.  It is the day when the holocaust is remembered.  It is a day the world should remember.  Let us never forget this horrific act and vow to see this inhumanity never again perpetrated against any group of people.  It saddens me to know there are those in the world who did in the past and others who would now or in the future turn a blind eye to atrocities against mankind and a deaf ear towards screams for mercy.  I pity those who claim such actions never took place, yet, just maybe, and I am trying to put the best constructin on the subject, just maybe the facts are too heinous for their minds to accpt as real.  We cannot change the past; we can only strive to be better to make sure the future does not re-live the past.

Pithiness

Time to talk about a word.  As I have said before, I like words.  Depending upon your point of view, I can spend or waste a lot of time looking up a word in the dictionary.  Sometimes I just want to check on a variant spelling; sometimes I am narrowing down the meaning and right there my focus is lost as my eyes flit over scores of words.  I find myself reading down a whole column before I remember I need to get back to the task at hand or my computer will go into screensaver mode and I realize I am not even within the bounds of the first letter of the word I was trying to look up in the first place.  The word for tonight is 'pithy' - 'of, like or full of pith'.  Sounds daring.  Well, what is pith.  I think of fruit having pith so it's sort of the meat of the matter or something with substance.  Pith has substance, gist or vigor.  According to the dictionary, 'pithy' means 'full of substance, meaning or force, as a pithy style.'  So, pithy stresses a deeper, more substantial meaning to what is being expressed.  While a useful word, I have also discovered pithy is also a fun word to use when playing word games.  Having been challenged for use of this word on the grounds that I had both made up the word and was trying to lead a group of students astray by deliberately mispronouncing a word which was not exactly school appropriate, I pulled out my dictionary and won the round.  Words can be lifesavers and gamesavers; nevertheless, the study of words can be a pithy experience to round the corners of life's expressions.

Just when you thought you were safe

Ah, Springtime!  I love this time of year.  The days slowly lengthen.  Even though the wind still howls it somehow feels warmer.  One can stand outside at night to bask in the beauty of the stars without feeling too chilled.  The grass changes from a ruddy brownish hue to a lovely shade of green.  Trees and shrubs begin to leaf out so quickly the changes go from weekly to daily and almost hourly in their growth.  Bulbs which have been peeking out of the ground are suddlenly tall stalks with flowers waiting to burst open and then one by one the yard is exploding in the colors of crocuses, hyacinths and paperwhites all in shades of yellow, white or purple.  The daffodils and jonquils rapidly take over shouting their glory in hues of yellow and orange with a touch of white.  Purple and red lilacs scent the neighborhood and tulips provide a flourish of pinks, yellows, orange, red and purple.  Sometimes they are ruffled and others striped to add to their performance.  The short winter brought my spring flowers out early this season.  The irises seem to have sprung up overnight and are just beginning to open.  Not to be outdone, all the cats in the area decide it is time to stake a claim and go through their rituals for procreating.  Birds flock back to the area; some more noisily than others as they too locate safe havens for nesting and choosing their mates.  Though the days are growing longer we have to put up with the ridiculous daylight savings time, but get used to it after a few months in time to turn the clocks back once more.  Storm windows are removed and houses are opened up to the cleanliness of the awakening earth.  Warmer weather also allows one the chance to open up the windows at night to breathe in the fresh air and get a truly good night's sleep and all is right with the world.  Nevertheless, just when you thought you were safe, it is too late.  There is nowhere to hide from the pungent perfume wafting on the gentle breeze of those cute, little, black and white, nocturnal critters wandering about leaving their own telltale mark on an otherwise peaceful night.

A day of tornadoes

Though the wind continues, we weathered the storm.  We had a couple of days warning for the day of tornadic activity that hit the central part of our country yesterday.  NOAA (National Oceanic Atmospheric Administration) Weather Service told us to prepare.  I'm not certain how we were to prepare other than to make certain we had batteries, flashlights and candles available.  We knew we would have water nearby.  Personally, we stayed close to home because of our pets.  They are part of our family too.  The local weatherman stated those in our viewing area facing the onslught of storms amidst warmer temperatures would be fortunate if the cloud cover remained strong throughout the day; if the clouds broke and the sun cam out, look out!  We were fortunate.  It was late afternoon into the evening hours as the storms moved into our section.  Sunset proved detrimental to any of the storm chasers who were out.  The time came.  A tornado was crossing into our county.  My husband and I grabbed our shoes, called for the cats and headed to the basement.  The dog had been inside for about two hours already.  I ran back upstairs to turn on porchlights and unlock the back door in case the neighbors needed to get in.  As is the case for several families in town, they don't have a decent basement.  In weather like this anyone is welcome.  I noticed vehicles lined up across the street.  People had come to find shelter at both the Lutheran and the Catholic churches across the street from us.  I dashed back down to the basement where we waited out the worst watching the weather broadcast on the television and listening to the storm outside.  The dog alternated trying to sit in my lap with eating and worrying our tomcat wouldn't let her out of the room.  The female cats never did come downstairs and would not have stayed if we had carried them.  This tornado was a monster.  The storm chasers said it was better than a half mile wide as it zigged and zagged and tossed debris.  It was heading straight for our town when it suddenly moved east of us and skirting the edges of another town danced above the reservoir before making its way north and east in its zig-zag pattern sashaying between the towns as it went.  After a little over an hour the threat was past.  Knowing we might have to go back down if another tornado blew up, we were able to come out of our refuge.  For now, it was over.  Other than wind and rain the night passed without another tornado for us.  We were fortunate, indeed.  Sure there was some wind damage and a few people lost vehicles when trees were toppled on top of them, but major damage from what could have been a horrendous situation with all our small towns around here was averted.  I think a lot of prayers were heard and know our communities are grateful. 

Declaring a genre

I do believe choosing a genre for a book one has written must be more difficult than writing the whole book to begin with.  Of course there are always exceptions because there must be many writers who know ahead of time they will write a passionate romance or a blood-curdling, crime casebook or even an alien infested scy-fy thriller.  Not so for me.  I get an idea going in my mind and start writing.  Now, I have to come up with the one category to best suit my tome.  It is fiction, thus non-fiction may be taken off the table straight away, but where does it fit?  That is a dilemma.  I can categorically state up front my novel is not science fiction, crime, horror, thriller nor is it a mystery.  There is romance within its pages but it is not a romance so that whole range is out.  I tried to give the characters life with its various facets, but I wouldn't say it is literary.  It is set within the bounds of history and is part of a saga covering generations of the same family so I could classify "Rune Speaker" as either historical fiction or a family saga.  There is the whole question of the relationship of the characters to the spirits of the land on which they live and, by the same token, to the gods, in this case the Norse gods.  For some reason this last aspect might classify the book as a fantasy.  I'm not certain I understand why.  Throughout history man has held belief in God, gods or spirits.  Just because one chooses to acknowledge a system of beliefs during a particular timeframe it does not seem proper to abrogate those beliefs to fantasy.  Nevertheless, this is my quandry:  into which genre do I place my book?  I've decided to go with historical fantasy solely for the appearance of several of the gods ... or, perhaps I should go with family saga.

An X-File?

Did you happened to see the stories about the NASA photographs taken of the mysterious monolith on Mars?  According to the story I read earlier today, every few years these photographs show up in the headlines and all the ufologists jump on the news.  If you saw the photos you might think of the alien monoliths depicted in "2001:  A Space Odessy".  I know, I did and I'm not alone in this.  I found myself searching for the apes in the photo.  The monolith looks oddly out of place on the Martian landscape.  Well, the scientists want to claim it is just a huge chunk of Martian rock broken from the mountains it stands near and if one were to build such a monument of sorts why would they place it in such close proximity to these mountains where it could get crush by said huge chunks of rock falling from said mountains.  They  point out the fact that when the photo was taken the sun was on the horizon creating an elongated shadow.  They also point out the HiRISE camera onboard the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter is able to photograph at 1 foot or 30 centimeters per pixel from the altitude of 180 miles or 300 kilometers and while this is good it is not quite good enough to bring out the images of the pits and crags in the rock's surface ... but it does explain the squared and sharp edges to the monolith, or does it?  It doesn't make sense to me as I look at the rounded edges of the pitted surface surrounding this huge piece of Martian debris.  Hmmm ... You know what they say?  The truth is out there ...

Silliness aside, it is an interesting article. 
The facts in this posting are based on the article "'Monolith' Object on Mars?  You Could Call it That" by Natalie Wolchover / LiveScience.com - Wed, April 11, 2012

For the sake of the green

I was thinking of titling this entry 'It's in the bag' but decided after last night's entry you might be tempted to assume I already have a book deal.  I wish it was so.  Alas, it is not the case ... yet.  Tonight I intend to hold forth on a recycling project I am involved with.  (Is that a dangling participle?  Oh well, it sounds better than 'with which I am involved'.)  But I digress.  I truly believe we have become a throw away society from diapers, to styrofoam to small appliances.  All this stuff needs to go somewhere and let's face it, landfills aren't always the answer.  Recycling plants take a lot of items.  Some companies will buy back small appliances and cellular service providers will take old cellphones.  One item that is difficult to recycle is the plastic grocery bag.  They will take all manner of plastic items at our local recycling pick-up but not plastic bags.  I heard of a project which makes use of the bags by fashioning them into sleeping mats.  I kid you not!  The bags are cut into strip loops and the loops slipped together to form 'plarn'.  'plastic+yarn = plarn'.  Rolling this material into huge balls makes it easier to work with just like regular yarn.  Using a size Q crochet hook (it's huge), the bags are crocheted into sleeping mats and either sent to disaster areas or shelters.  I will not take the credit here as someone in a different community had the ladies from her church working on these mats and now the surrounding communities all have groups working on this project.  I jumped on the chance to get involved and have the ladies in two towns working on one facet or another in making these mats.  I had to learn to crochet all over again!  I tried to get some of the retired men to participate but after the first workday or two they decided it wasn't as much fun as they would like.  I think it's more likely they didn't want to have to listen to all the women.  Having completed several of these mats I have learned it is better to use just the grocery bags.  Heavier bags are too difficult to crochet and the produce bags are too flimsy and often have sticky residue.  Some may hear of this project and think it is silly or rather ditzy and a waste of time; nevertheless, the sleeping mats provide a bit of comfort for those who have very little in this life.  The mats also keep the bags out of the landfills and I'm all for that.

Taking steps

Time to mention the book.  I warned you ...  I took another step today.  Maybe it's no big deal to you, but it is to me.  I created a FB page for my book "Rune Speaker".  I'm pretty pumped about this action.  It gets information about my book out there for people who may not have known I was writing a book.  A couple of weeks ago I created a web page for my book and last week started this blog.  In the movie "What About Bob?" a psychiatrist played by Billy Crystal is continually expressing the need of his patient played by Bill Murray to take baby steps until he is ready to take on the more important moves in his life.  I must say I think I've taken some big steps here in the last couple of weeks and I am excited by the very notion of seeing my book in print.  So where am I at with my book?  The manuscript is complete.  It is time to think about composing those query letters to prospective agents.  Actually, I have been working up the necessary hook and hopefully have snagged the right sentence.  Nevertheless, before I write any letters, I think it might be a good idea to convert the formatting of the Word doculment file from the 2003 version on my old computer to the 2010 version on my new computer.  It is my goal to do this without losing the whole manuscript.  That will be a step worth celebrating.

The brew that refreshes

Moving on from the solemn to the sobbering I sit at my keyboard eagerly awaiting my freshly brewed mug of coffee.  That's right, a mug, no chintzy meager portions of this delightful beverage for me.  I can smell the aromatic potion as this marvelous scent wafts its way through the house and down the hallway to my study.  Plain, unaltered coffee; that's the drink for me.  I have loved coffee since I was a child.  My grandmother used to think we needed to put milk and sugar in it to make it palatable for us.  Little did she know that when we were at home we would sneak the coffee Mom and Dad left in their cups when they wweren't looking.  As I grew to my teen years I was allowed to join the adults in partaking of this wonderful beverage.  When I attended college a beloved professor of English literature wrote parts in a skit for my best friend and me.  My character was Kathy Olsen after Mrs Olsen from the old Folger's coffee commercial.  I wore a Scandinavian sweater and carried around a coffe pot.  Guess he had my number.  My parents saw to it I had a coffee maker for my dorm room.  Now this was no 12-cup pot; it was a full blown 30-cup coffee maker so my friends and I would have plenty of coffee when we were studying.  I was given the nickname 'Coffee Kathy'.  When my husband and I began dating we could be seen walking about campus holding hands ... but our free hands each held a cup of coffee.  I once knew a pastor who referred to coffee as 'Norwegian holy water'.  I think perhaps he was right.  I know of very few people of Scandinavian descent who dislike coffee.  Over the past few years there has been quite an argument going back and forth as to whether one must drink decaffeinated or may partake of regular coffee.  There seem to be a few nods in favor of decaffeinated associated with feeling jittery and adverse effects on blood pressure.  There are nods to the contrary concerning blood pressure.  An amount of caffeine is contained in various medications including those for headaches.  More recently studies have come out stating a benefit of caffeine contained specifically in coffee in delaying the onset of Alzheimer's.  Nevertheless, each must make up his/her own mind in the matter.  To me the positives outway the negatives.  Now, where's my coffee?

The culminating event

If I could choose one day of the year for its significance, Easter would be that day; for it is the celebration of the culminating event in the history of man.  Since the day man first fell from grace and received the promise of a way out of his degradation, his long history plodding through the muck and mire he made of his life and the rest of creation was spent waiting.  Not that it was all bad; there are blessings as well, too many of them to count in fact, but man is often too arrogant or greedy to see them and so he hastily shoves them aside and snatches at the shadows he thinks will make him happy.  In time he has forgotten what he needs and waits for he knows not what.  Yet, a remnant remained of those who still grasped the truth of their reality.  The glimmer of hope shone before them as a beacon star guiding a ship through the dark of night.  When the fullness of time was ripe the waiting was over and the promised redemption grew to fruition in the Son sent to live our lives for us.  Though his record was untarnished he suffered our cruel judgment and died a horrible death.  Many might think 'So what?  Everybody dies.'  The story does not end there.  His death was not the completion of the promise.  If Christ had not been raised from the dead, it would all have been for nothing.  Though the authorities tried to cover it up, the tomb was empty.  He is not here.  He is risen!

The day between ...

When I was growing up part of our family's traditions for the Easter holiday weekend was watching one of the various movies depicting the Easter story.  Movies such as The Greatest Story Ever Told, King of Kings, The Robe, The Ten Commandments and Ben Hur had a certain calming effect as well as strengthening the elements of the Biblical narrative for their audiences (even though the films tend to use poetic or artistic license in hopes of increased sales).  I still enjoy watching these films.  All the stops were pulled in their making and this was in the days before compertized imaging.  I have to admit my favorite is the more recent film The Passion of the Christ.  I don't care what one thinks about Mel Gibson and his personal trouble of late.  The Passion is a fine portrayal.  Gruesome though it may be, it portrays a much more accurate account.  Let's face it, crucifixion was not pretty.  And yes, Gibson did include aspects which were not strictly in the Bible.  Two scenes I don't think have appeared in any other film are God's teardrop marking the moment of Christ's death and, following closely, the absolute dismay of Satan.  Many people wonder what Jesus did in that space between his death and resurrection.  We confess it in the Apostle's Creed:  'He descended into hell.' to declare his victory.  If you have never seen this film, these poignant scenes give one pause to consider what happened on the day between as the narrative flows into the resurrection. 

A refection for Good Friday

I grew up in a time not that long ago, by the way, when one stopped midday on Good Friday to reflect on Jesus' death.  Schools were closed for the day and banks and other businesses closed between the hours of noon and 3:00 p.m.  Many mainline churches held tre ore (three hour) services during this time in rememberance of the time Jesus spent on the cross.  What a solemn yet uplifting experience this was!  Time was that Holy Week began on Palm Sunday and various aspects of Christ's passion were observed throughout the week.  Sadly this is no longer the norm.   Businesses are more intent on making money and some schools have already had their Spring Break.  I recall attending worship services every night during Holy Week and now some churches don't even offer the opportunity to worship on Good Friday.  Three of the four Gospels record the darkness which overcame the whole land from the sixth hour to the ninth hour as Jesus was being crucified.  At the risk of sounding a bit like Andy Rooney, have you ever noticed on Good Fridays between noon and 3:00 p.m. the sky tends to cloud over, if only for a portion of that time, even on bright sunny days?  The Father does not forget the sacrifice of his Son for us.  Should we?

But what does it mean?

Today is Maundy Thursday  What's that? ... Holy Thursday to some.  Today, especially, those of the Christian faith remember Christ's passion.  We remember Jesus' last supper with his disciples, his prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane, his betrayal and arrest and trials.  Some might think we have been doing that for the past six weeks since Ash Wednesday and we have; for the season of Lent in the life of the Christian Church is a period of penence as we reflect on Christ's sacrifice.  We use words in the Church that many are unfamiliar with and sometimes it is a simple matter of annual usage of a foreign sounding term.  I recall working with a group of Junior High students several years ago.  I mentioned the upcoming schedule of worship services during Holy Week and asked if the students planned on attending the service on Maundy Thursday.  One boy in the class thought for a moment and said "Well, Kathy, I'm pretty sure we can make it on Sunday Monday but I'm not sure about Monday Thursday."  And this is how many people hear the term.  Returning to the question of the meaning of Maundy Thursday we look at the word 'maundy'.  'Maundy' is derived from the Latin 'mandari' and then 'mandatum' in its dative form meaning 'command'.  This command refers to Jesus' washing the feet of his disciples and giving them the command to "Love one another as I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." ~ John 13: 34,35 ~  Emphasizing this attitude based on his love for us shown through his sacrifice for us the institution of the eucharist or the Lord's Supper or Holy Communion contains his command "Do this in remembrance of me."  And so we pause to remember and reflect and, hopefully, act upon this command in our lives.

What is it?

What?  What is it?  What is what?  That's what I'm asking and, by the way, who's on first?  When?  He's on second ... I don't know ... third base!  So, I think I may have mixed up part of this but don't you just love this old routine by Abbott and Costello?  Seems kind of apropos with baseball season looming before us.  Baseball is not my concern right now though.  I am trying to figure out what exactly a blog is.  You see, I like words.  Alas, the word 'blog' is not included in my dictionary.  This means it is a new word.  Now new words can come about through various means and then are accepted as part of our language through common and widespread usage.  A word can be the name of a common product such as Kleenex.  Let's face it, very few people say they need to run to the store to buy some facial tissue.  Everyone says Kleenex whether one purchases this particular brand or the store brand or the generic version in the yellow package with the black lettering.  What about acronyms?  Does anyone have any good acronyms for BLOG?  How about Building Lots Of Gold?  Brief Letters Or Gabbing?  The truth is it is problably something very simple and I am making the whole process more complex than need be.  Words can also come about through combining other words.  I envisioned a blockheaded blond bloke accompanied by his blotchy-furred, yet faithful, bloated bloodhound blowing hot and cold as he alternately studied blemished blueprints and thought about the blithe maid attired in black bloomers and blue blouson.  Well, any of these words could prove to be the first half of the word but what about the second half?  We need words which end with 'og'.  Are you ready?  Here are a few:  agog, bog, cog, dog, fog, frog, hog, jog, log, nog, and tog.  I was surprised to find the dictionary did not include 'sog', but then it was not keen on the words 'pog,' 'wog' or 'zog' either.  Now what have we here?  The blond bloke is agog at the thought of the maid. His mind in a fog, he leads  his bloodhound dog searching for the blueprint's cog.  Tripping over the hog he thought was a log he challenges a frog for a place in the bog whereupon he tears his new togs.  Thowing up his hands he says "Forget it!" and heads home for a nog.  What?  It could happen. Well, as this is all a bit ridiculous and mind frazzling I settled on combining the words 'brief' + 'log'; hence, a 'blog'.  Nevertheless, blog is now a word.  If anyone knows the true derivatin of the word'blog' I would love to hear it.

Beginning thoughts

Here begins my first blog entry.   Somewhere in the back recesses of my mind where I kept thoughts contained for such topics, I had the notion that blogs were written by people of monumental noteworthiness or others of a more questionable mind.  I doubt I fall into the first category ... at least at this point in time and I hope I do not fall into the second. Nevertheless, I believe I, too, have a voice to be heard. 

I feel one should state their goal any time one begins a new task.  There are an awful lot of blogs out there to be digested and probably an equal number of reasons for writing a blog.  I see this blog as an opportunity to express my thoughts in a manner which cannot merely be blurted out.  History, and literature are great topics especially if rolled together into a favorite book.  Have you ever just sat down to read the dictionary?  I enjoy words particularly old words and may from time to time ... what do I mean 'may'?  I fully intend from time to time to discuss words.  As humor should always play a part in our lives I intend to dabble in whimsy.  Last, but certainly not least I must forewarn you of my intentions to discuss various aspects of the book, and here some might aptly say saga, I have been writing and the journey towards publication of the first trek entitled "Rune Speaker".  I hope we can have fun with my ramblings and look forward to hearing form you.