Summer's End

As Labor Day approaches, I have come to terms with the fact that summer is over. We will start school the day after Labor Day, and even if it wasn’t for that small fact, I would still begin to understand that Summer, 2010 is now nothing more than a memory….and a short memory at that.

The cooler weather came much earlier giving us an early fall, it seems. I am already covering vegetables in my garden, just to be safe. We had one really close call from Mr. Frost, and I am not about to take a chance on a surprise visit from him again. The evenings are cool and the mornings cooler, and I have even already added an extra blanket on the bed at night. Yes, summer is over.

But where did it go? What did I do? It seems I accomplished so little on my list of summer things to do. Matt and I only made it to the State Park to swim once. Any of the other surrounding lakes? Nope, not even once. We did take a few drives down to the State Park to look for wildlife and to simply enjoy evening drives. I love that; especially that my 17 year old son would do that kind of thing with me. Ah yes, we also enjoyed a boat ride one afternoon, with my mom and dad.

Didn’t make it huckleberryin’ this summer, (for the second summer in a row) but we did take a few letterboxing trips – wonderful times spent with my family. No picnics, no vacations. But there were trips north, to my beloved “North Country”, at least twice. And one evening, Matt and I took what has become our annual trip to one of our favorite tourist towns north of us for dinner.

Letterbox Event with Family

We baled hay and painted the outside of the house - almost done with that, now – and we tried to do some extra cleaning both outside and inside of our home and property. I gardened and did yard work, which I very much love. I spent what seemed like countless hours on my book business – organizing them in storage and adding them to the data base. I spent a few too many hours on this silly blog, but I also enjoyed coffee with my family once weekly. That was the most important thing for me to do, and I am glad I was able to do so.

We spent a little time with Skeeter, but not nearly as much as we should have or would have liked. No Cowboy Mounted Shooting this year; but we will attend, as spectators, the shoot next week-end.

Early this summer, I caught up on all of Matt’s report cards and transcripts. That was a huge relief all in itself. I finished writing In the Slipstream and began Miss POP. I wrote a couple letters to the editor of our paper, neither of which were published (maybe a bit too radical; or maybe just a bit too "right").  Most likely,  just wrong timing.  I contacted a few Congressmen through letters and decided to help someone with their campaign. I also did some research for someone I love, which was huge, but which was also very much in vain.

We attended a street dance, and a few very fun, local city parades and events. We also attended a square dancing event in the city park. I found out why people so easily get hooked on that. I had a blast and met some very nice people.  We also attended two county fairs.

Matt took quite a few trips away from home with his activities, so I think he would feel like he had a pretty good summer. I hope so. Making memories for our children is really what summer is all about, isn’t it?

It helps to look back, recount what we did, and make myself understand it really was a good summer, in spite of my long “didn’t do” list. I did in fact have a nice sense of accomplishment with the things we got done around our home.  There is more to do before winter sets in....that's when Summer, 2010 will look really good.  ;-)

An Open Letter to the County Fair Board

After attending our county fair this summer, I decided I should write a letter to the Fair Board concerning a certain situation that occurred while my family attended.  With the controversy over allowing alcohol and other changes, the board was encouraging public response.  I emailed my letter to fair management on Monday evening.  Depending on what kind of response I get from them, will determine whether I continue pursuing my point through other venues such as "Letters to the Editor" of the local paper.  Below is the letter:

All's Fair...

Fair is here! Matt and I spent the entire day on Wednesday. We always like to go on opening day when everything is new and fresh and clean. On opening day, there are fewer people than other days and everyone is in a really good mood before the heat, long hours and the “funny” characters start to get to workers, making attitudes less than perfect.

The first thing we do on opening day is check out the 4-H booth to see how Matt has done on his projects. This year, he had just one project. But he took Grand Champion for that project which surprised us both. He has received Reserve Champion in the past, but this is the first time he took the Grand Champion Award, so we were pretty happy. He received a free fair ticket for his endeavor and he gets to attend an award ceremony on Sunday. This was something new for us; neither of us knew the fair did that, so that was an added surprise.

Next, we moved on to the photography booth, where Matt had entered 6 photographs. He took two reds, two whites, and an honorable mention on his photos. The photo that I thought most likely to receive an award, won nothing. Goes to show you what I know. We spent quite a bit of time in this section, as we both love looking at the entries and marveling over some people’s creativity.

The Gardening Building was next on our agenda. Though, my garden suffered some this year, I decided to enter carrots, beets, dill, green beans and my annual “Soup Bowl”.  I should have saved myself the trouble this year, receiving no awards for my individual entries! My “Soup Bowl” did receive a Red Ribbon, but I was so embarrassed over my other vegetables, the satisfaction over the Red Ribbon was greatly diluted. I looked at my vegetables there on display and wondered how in the world I could have picked the vegetables I had picked. They looked much worse after sitting out for a couple of days, but even so, they were clearly not what they should be to win a ribbon. I found myself wanting to turn over the name tags, so no one would know they were mine. What was I thinking??? Oh well; I got to see Mr. Jack when I entered my veggies and that kind gentleman always makes me smile. The workers with their pleasant, dedicated attitudes always make the experience worthwhile.

It was apparent that entries in all buildings were well below average this year, though it seemed no one wanted to admit it when I commented about it. The baked and canned goods entries seemed especially low. Most likely the new controversy over having to add a recipe with the item, contributed to the low number of entries.

There was also controversy this year over allowing alcohol through out the fairgrounds. Ya gotta wonder about the wisdom in that. Of all the changes they made, I believe this is the one that is most troublesome. A letter to the editor of the local paper said the writer spent the entire opening day and didn’t even see anyone with a beer until 8:00 pm that evening. She obviously wasn’t watching very well. I saw the first patron appear at the beer garden at just after 12:00 noon. There were people with glasses of beer in their hands scattered throughout the grounds the rest of the day. I was surprised however, when late in the afternoon Matt saw someone with a beer and said, “Mom, that is the first beer I have seen today.” Usually, he is the perceptive one, but I was glad he hadn’t noticed what I had. Another report said the beer was “free-flowing and everywhere”, alluding to the fact that it was no place for families. That wasn’t entirely true either. At least on opening day, I saw nothing offensive, nor any fights, or trouble over allowing the beer. It just isn’t what we choose to be around and I wish it wouldn’t be allowed, but so far I’m not seeing any balance in reports.

I ran into my old boss as I knew I would. He is very involved with the fair and the politics of it. He said in fact, he would be manning one of the beer booths on Friday evening. He explained the training he had to take in order to do so, and he also explained the rules to me. Patrons are only allowed to purchase two beers for their time at the fair and the way it would be handled sounded strict and careful. I only hope it works. It certainly sounded like it should, but people can be pretty resourceful in achieving what they desire, so I guess that remains to be seen. The evening rodeo will tell much I believe, and I will be keeping careful watch.

The rodeo is at the top of my list of favorite things of the fair. That crowd is always an awesome crowd, and they are a big part of what makes the rodeo so special. They have always been a receptive crowd, an enthusiastic crowd, a respectful and polite crowd. It is hard for me to think it would be a crowd that abuses a beer garden, but I guess that remains to be seen. My love of the rodeo will have to be a whole other post because there is a ton I can say about it.

I remember telling my old boss several years ago, when there had been discussion of moving the fairgrounds or changing the grandstands and he was on the committee to decide; “Don’t you dare let them move my fair!” And then even more I exclaimed; “If they move those grandstands anywhere but facing that mountain, it will ruin everything!” Somehow, I felt like those fairgrounds belonged to me and nobody had better touch it. ;-)

All-in-all, I love the fair. I always have. I remember as a kid growing up just a mile or so from the fairgrounds, it was one of my favorite things to do of the summer. My brother and sisters and I were allowed to walk over to the fairgrounds every year, sometimes with friends. We would cut across the field that is now the massive parking lot filled with rows and rows of cars. Back then, it was only pasture, and it was the short cut we would take to the entry gate. I felt the same way then, that I do now: excitement, anticipation, and expectation. I knew I would see friends, eat good food and enjoy the creativity of the entries. The animals would be the high-light for me then, but as an adult it is always about who I will see. It has always been a place to see and visit with people that one knows. It’s a social place; a place where community comes together and enjoys all that the area has to offer. This probably sounds funny, but every year I count up the number of people I have run into on my day at the fair and try to think about the one that probably goes back in my past the furthest. I actually have wonderful memories of specific moments at the fair when I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in years. I revisit those memories every now and then at fair time and those memories continue to make me want to hold on to our county fair. It has always been a place where locals gather and I love that. The county fair is about people, family and community.

I expect we will be seeing some additional changes that are brought about by the changes that have been made this year. Things may become more about money and commercial exhibits rather then about people and their projects. If so, it will be a shame, because it will change the whole dynamics of the county fair. The crowd may change as fair priorities change, but for now it’s still my county fair and well-worth supporting. While it’s here, I intend to make a few more memories.  I don't think it is going to be around forever...

In Honor of Our Friend

We just got word, yesterday, that our good friend Bob, has passed away. We got to know Bob when he became one of our best customers at our book store and coffee shop. Before long, he was more than a customer; he was one of our best friends. We didn’t know Bob’s family. We were blessed enough, however, to get to know a few of his friends; some that were local and some that had visited.

Bob found out he had lung cancer early this spring, and I have to confess, though I continued to pray, I had trouble mustering hope for him. When he told me it was inoperable, I was very afraid. I had two other friends that had survived lung cancer, but it was only because part of their lungs, were able to be removed with surgery.

Right away, Bob made the decision to go back to his hometown. There was a VA hospital there and he had family and friends there, as well. Though I didn’t want to admit it, I was afraid we would never see Bob again. I was right.

So what does one do, when someone you love passes away, but you have no opportunity to attend a funeral, or share memories with family and friends? I don’t want to simply let go of a life that is that important to my family with just the receiving and accepting of bad news. I have to do something to honor this life. So I will write about Bob. I hope this is a tribute to the man that he was.

Bob was in his 60’s three years ago when we met him. He was a Viet Nam Vet, and when I first met him, I thought he looked like he might have had a bit of rebellion in him. I wonder if he would say he had a good life; I don’t think so. I believe he had a scary life. I believe in his later years, he tried fervently to correct much of what had happened in his earlier life; wrongs he felt he had done, lives he felt he had hurt.  We all want to do that, don't we?

Bob had a strong and moral heart. He was a man of strong beliefs and a man that lived by his word. If he said it, you could count on it. Bob had a very creative side, and a sentimental side, as well - though I am sure he would not want to admit that part. He loved deeply, I believe; but he had built walls that would protect him from accepting that fact.

This man was always a bit of a mystery. He wanted to get to know us, but he didn’t really want us to get to know him. My husband and Bob hit it off right away. They were both Viet Nam vets and there was a bond there because of that, which was almost immediate. They were very much alike in a lot of ways and I was thankful for this friendship for both of them.

Bob could not have been kinder to my son. He always took an interest in what Matt was doing, and wanted to help with advice, or in what ever way he could to fuel and support Matthew’s projects or activities.

Our friend was a very generous person, and he liked to give gifts. Not expensive gifts, just thoughtful gifts that you knew were from his heart; and when you opened that gift you knew he had listened. He would often bring an item that Matthew needed, that he said he wanted to give to Matt, because he “no longer had use for it”. He was always the first to offer any equipment he had if my husband mentioned anything he was working on and in need of. He would often bring me candles for my store. His favorite was “Crème Brule”, which he purchased from his friend’s candles shop.  He killed two birds with one stone that way; he helped her business, too.

When things were slow at the store, Matt, Bob and I would often have discussions about faith and the Bible and life. I'm afraid Bob was very angry with God, though I think he would rather believe that God wasn't even there. We agreed to disagree, respected one another’s beliefs and I believe I saw his anger soften somewhat. He told me once that his friends back home were shocked that he would hang out at a place such as ours; i.e. a “Christian” place. I took that comment as a good thing.  He only offered respect for our values, and always acted accordingly.

Bob did not like crowds, struggled with being around people, and did not have a lot of respect for the establishment. But I will never forget the day, when two new customers came into our coffee shop and began talking to me about their lives and how they had become friends. One had been a Navy SEAL during the Viet Nam era. One was a short little oriental man, and he was very proud of the medal he had received from the United States government which he offered to show me.

While sitting at his normal table, I noticed Bob had started to listen to these two men as they talked to me, so I introduced them to one another. The conversation went a little further about the war, and pretty soon, Bob asked the smaller man, “Wait a minute! Are you a Mong?”

When the little man said yes, Bob leaped to his feet and with a rare smile on his face said, “Let me shake your hand, and say thank you!”

Whoa, didn’t see that type of thing from Bob, too often. My curiosity grew.

Now I did not know what a "H’mong" was at this time, but I knew I had just witnessed something very special. I knew this was important; I knew this was between brothers and I knew it was deep. I backed off a little bit now, and just tried to listen and learn as the three men talked.

When the two gentlemen had left, I asked Bob what a "H’mong" was. These men had Bob’s deepest respect and gratitude. They were integrated Vietnamese that fought with the U. S. during the war and they had rescued 100’s, if not 1000’s of American pilots that went down during the Viet Nam War. H’mong soldiers, on the front line of the war, put their lives at risk fighting for the United States in what came to be known as “The Secret War”. They were a Special Guerrilla Unit supported and trained by the CIA to block the Ho Chi Minh Trail. They were the toughest, bravest men he had ever known, Bob told me.

Wow, I had just learned a very important part of history, and I was witnessing an after-effect of that history. It was one of the most moving experiences of my life. Don’t care if anyone thinks that is an exaggeration. Anyone in that room that day would have felt and understood the same thing. It was awesome.

But that was Bob - hardened with all the affairs of life, but always more than willing to pay respect, wherever respect was due.

Another time, a situation occurred in the little town we had our business and I cannot write about it out of safety concerns, but I will never forget the day Bob witnessed part of it and demanded, “I am NOT leaving here until you walk down to that police station and report it.” I wasn’t quite convinced it was the issue that he believed it to be, but deep down I believed he was probably right. So I made the walk and I made the report. And I learned a little more about the type of person Bob was. The side he most often didn’t want others to see.

Bob was conservative in his politics, radical in his attitude, mysterious in his past, and private in his affairs. He was warm and he was cold. He would share only to a point, and listen forever. He would advise and provoke thought; he would offer comfort and concern, then walk away and leave you wondering.

Bob acquired much in life, and enjoyed the “finer things of life” as they say. He loved his art and his music; his animals and his friends. I believe he gave far more than he ever received in this life. He was honest and he was forthright.  He was a casualty, who became a success through his own hard work and determination. We were not there for him in his last days, but I know the Lord knows the important things and someday I pray I might know, too. He lived and he died; but he lived and died with the love and respect of my family. Though try as he might to prevent it, I know there were many others that knew Bob the same way.

We will miss this friend a great deal and when I burn Crème Brule, it will always be in Bob’s honor.
We are grateful to have known him.

Thank you for your service, my friend. I know it was not without sacrifice.