Year End 2024

 

     Here we are at the end of another year. This is my report on happenings and activities for 2024. One big (for me) event overshadowed everything else. Death crept into my life. My dear Pete left this life quietly on his 82^nd birthday, August 10.

     Pete and I had wonderful times together for nearly eight years. He was good, caring, generous, smart and never argued, although we would disagree sometimes. I loved it when we were together. He was the introvert and I am the talker; he was the scientist and I am the liberal arts person. It all worked out very well for us while it lasted, for almost eight years.

    He was a great fan of plays so we continued to watch local professional productions. We also sat in his living room in front of his oversized television screen and watched dramatic series. We sat at my kitchen table and played Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit; usually I won Scrabble and He won Trivial Pursuit. We played a card game called Nerts that is big in his family. We didn’t have as many trips in the first months of this year as we had other years because he didn’t feel quite up to par as time went on.

     Pete and I enjoyed the first half of the year doing all this, and then summer came. Big change. He went to the hospital in early June, was diagnosed with bladder cancer and some infections, stayed most of the summer in the hospital and a few days in the nursing home, and faded away. I sat there with him every day except the times when I had visits to Washington Island as I do every year. The day he died I was away at the island. I called his nursing home to wish him a happy birthday, but a lady who answered told me that he could not speak but could hear me so I hung up; ten minutes later the same lady called back to say he had died. Our time together had ended. Alas.

     Life went on for the year. I went to Washington Island several times during the summer and again enjoyed the rustic cabin on the campground. Daughter Dori and her family of Steve, Robbie and Dhyana were there with me one of the times as we walked and sat in the woods; we were when I got the call about Pete’s death. I love being on the island. This year I did not exhibit my art there as I have in other years; the Art and Nature Center has good exhibits every summer, and I have participated in past summers.

     Other things happened. Tom and Carmen Colburn, lifetime family friends, came to Viroqua,Wisconsin, in October where Carmen had medical work done by her favorite doctor there. Brother David and Marcie live there so I went to Viroqua and we all visited and ate dinner in a local establishment, after which I drove Tom and Carmen back to Madison to catch their plane home to Texas. It was very good.

     I showed my colored pencil art in the annual exhibit of the Wisconsin Regional Art Program in March in Madison; attended my 64^th reunion of the Sturgeon Bay High School class of 1959; hosted our annual family get together in my back yard in June; continued with my volunteering at the local library and a few other places; and continue to have dinner weekly with John and Sherry. I took a day trip via tour bus to Chicago in August where I spent time at the Art Institute.

     The last few months of 2024 have been quiet and less active as I have learned once again to be alone much of the time. My friends at St. Dunstan’s Church have been a plus as I have lived with the big change. I am blessed with John, Sherry. Laura and Ian, nearby in Madison, are doing well, and Ian is graduating from UW-Madison one of these days with a degree in computer science. Congratulations to him. I wish I could be with my other adult children a bit more. I love our family.

Stormy weather

 Here is a piece of writing that I did for my writing class. Read on...

Stormy Weather

The lights went out at 8:30 pm on a Tuesday night last spring. They stayed out until 12:50 a.m. Thursday. Thunder, lightning, strong winds and lots of rain invaded our space and surrounded me in my small city home. Occasionally a crash and bang nearby assaulted my senses, but it didn’t bring any tree limbs onto the small house.

The disruption lasted for a long time. Sleep was nearly impossible that night. Weather reports on television had told us we would get a storm, and they were right. It was very black everywhere. I found two flashlights and my camping lantern in the basement, and they provided a small amount of lighting in my living area.

Wow. No television, no radio, no electronics except a cell phone.  And tablet. Probably I could have used the Internet via phone, but I didn’t try. I sat and looked at a book with the help of a flashlight. I was alone in the darkness. This was in the city, not in the woods.

What was a person to do? I have been a camper for many years, but now I was not in the woods. I opened the book and tried to read. Maybe a novel would have been a better choice, but this book was about food politics. With flashes and crashes invading my concentration, it was not interesting.

Ok. How about audio? The tablet was somewhere in the darkness. My subscription to Audible might work. The next hour and a half found me absorbed in Great Expectations. Listening to Pip tell his story with Miss Havisham in the background occupied my time until 10:30 pm. Then finally sleep.

This was not camping. It was darkly quiet and brightly noisy, in the city with thousands of people nearby, all in the black night. They were there; I was here.

Daytime arrived with the storm gone but still no electricity. That was better, but the outage prevented work around the house including issues with cooking and dirty laundry. Today’s living requires electric power. Just manage, I told myself all day; eat something from the dark refrigerator without cooking. Find some food in the cupboard. I asked the neighbor to open my garage door manually to enable use of the car. That helped. I could go somewhere.

How much do we assume in our daily lives with power enabling living? Television tells us what is going on. We have electric stoves, microwave ovens, vacuum cleaners and plenty more. It’s not the campground. At least we had running water. Scary stormy nights will disturb us, but light awaits at the end of the tunnel, whether from the sun or human technology.

Then, when June came, I went camping in the woods of Washington Island and spent the night in a cabin during a tornado. No damage for me. What’s next?

Pete Weiler Tribute

 The world lost a good man a week ago. I did too. Pete Weiler was the best. He died of cancer on his  birthday, August 10. We had a relationship that lasted almost eight years. Here was a man who was good, honest, caring, loving and smart. And he refused to argue. How about that? We did well without arguing. Old people can do that.

 Pete and I met in October, 2016, at a speed dating event held by the Madison Senior Center. It didn’t take long for us to get acquainted. He was quiet and not inclined to talk about his long life, and I managed to talk too much on our dates. That was just one of our non-essential differences. Pete had a PhD in physics and loved science. He spent many years working at writing software for the University of Wisconsin. I used to say that his computer was his other girlfriend. My English major and librarian background didn’t match his, but it didn’t matter. We were great.

 Who was planning on dating through a pandemic? Covid 19 arrived in 2020. We had been going to plays at Overture Center and American Players Theater. While we skipped a lot of plays, we watched programs on his very large screen in his living room. We brought carry out food to my kitchen. We played Scrabble, Trivial Pursuit, and Nerts, a card game he taught me. That’s activity for people who can’t go places for fear of spreading disease. As the pandemic seemed to diminish, we went back to the plays.

 Pete has a loving, wonderful family. He has no children, but enjoys two brothers and a sister, plus nieces and a nephew and their spouses and families. They get together for birthdays and other events, and I have been included happily. Every year Pete treated them to dinner and a play at American Players Theater in Spring Green, which was well attended until this year when Pete was sick and the others went to the play that was rained out. It was part of the ending of his life.

 Pete went to the hospital where he was diagnosed with stage four bladder cancer and some infections. He was in the hospital for two months and then days in the nursing home at Oakwood, and never went home. His life ended. This wonderful man was gone. I will miss him for a long time while being happy for the good times we had together.

Year End 2023

 

  2023 is coming to an end. A lot has happened in my little space in the world. We have no snow on the ground late in December. Unbelievable. This is my report on the ups and downs of the last year.

   Pete and I continued to enjoy good times together. Not everything involved him, such as my exhibiting in art shows and the times I spent at Washington Island, plus ongoing volunteering at the senior center and library branch near my home. When we were together Pete and I thoroughly enjoyed a lot of plays in Madison, Spring Green (American Players Theater), and Milwaukee. We ate and played together regularly, too, with plenty of day trips to points of interest. We also spent several days in Chicago and visited his sister in Minnesota. In October we celebrated the seventh anniversary of the day we met in 2016, with dinner. Our seven years together have been wonderful.

   A big event this year was the Covid-19 pandemic that afflicted me and many others. I became part of history when symptoms of a very bad cold took over my life for a week and a half in October. Much nasal congestion, coughing and sneezing but no fever. I stayed at home for a week and a half until I tested negative and my life resumed its routine. Pete wisely distanced himself from all this except for daily phone calls. He finally returned to my abode without catching Covid.

   As in other years I had great times during the summer. I went to Washington Island for as much time as I could get away from Madison, where once again I stayed at the campground alone in the woods. A couple of times I stayed in daughter Sarah’s camper trailer and other times I sheltered in campground cabins. Being in those woods is like meditation. I walked a lot on the woodsy roads, sat in my lawn chair and read, and went to services at the local Lutheran church where I know some of the people. I used the local library’s wi-fi when possible. I listened to jazz by Doc Westring and his little combo. Some of the local deer walked out onto the road every now and then, but they did not say hello. Pete did not come to the island with me since he seems to not see the charm of the woods.

   One very good thing for me on Washington Island was displaying my colored pencil drawings in the annual exhibit at the Art and Nature Center. It is for participating islanders, and I qualified due to the amount of time I spend on the island every year. This exhibit goes on all summer and includes paintings and various media. We are among many good artists. I have exhibited there for several years.

   Speaking of art exhibits, I was happy to exhibit colored pencil works again this spring in the large Wisconsin Regional Art Program show for Wisconsin artists at the Pyle Center in Madison. Besides that, I gave time and artwork to the Madison Senior Center, where student volunteers and I helped hang its annual show for Dane County seniors in May. No prizes for me in either event, but these are good exhibitions.

   What a delight! Family friends for all our lives, the Colburns came to Door County this summer after many years. My Allen brothers and I and the four Colburn adult children who are about our ages all grew up together and spent summers at our cottages in the woods of Clark Lake north of Sturgeon Bay. We and our parents were close friends. The occasion for their visit was distributing the ashes of newly deceased Johnny Colburn, their oldest, in Clark Lake. I went, as did my brother Eddy and wife Mary Lou, and we got together with many Colburns and descendants and friends for enjoyment and food, and, of course, a fish boil outdoors next to the bay of Sturgeon Bay. I came the first day a bit before the activity began and had a good visit with Sally and Richie. Over the years I have been in touch with Tom and Carmen Colburn more than the others.

   Pete and I had an enjoyable six-day vacation in Chicago in May, where we and our Road Scholar group visited museums and the Art Institute. We had a scenic boat trip on the Chicago River to see the downtown architecture, and we heard a lecture about the history of Chicago politics. Pete and I both were born in Chicago and lived our early years in the suburbs, but it was good to see the well-known sights again.

   I didn’t see my adult offspring much during the year other than John and Sherry who graciously gave me dinner at their home on Monday nights, with Laura and Ian present sometimes. The Covid pandemic has changed the occasions for getting together even though the disease seems to be waning. Libby, Dori, Steve, Robbie and Dana came to Madison to see me a few times. Sarah continues to recover from radiation treatment with cancer she had a couple of years ago, so we don’t see her as much as I would like. I didn’t see Mary and Gareth in Maryland at all in the last year. Alas. When and if life returns to normal, we can move around more.

   Life has continued to be busy as old age creeps up on me. Plenty of volunteer work at the senior center and library keeps me busy every week, and life is good in the company of the church group of ladies which I call the book group that hardly ever discusses the book. We get together online on Zoom and comment on politics and other life situations during our meetings. Did I say I am getting old? I’m only eighty-two and still getting around. I expect to be here for a while longer.

Covid, a World Event

 

It seemed like a bad cold. A simple test changed everything. A Swab in the nose and a fifteen- minute wait. A world-wide pandemic has come to my home. I have found myself with covid19.

Covid is like a bad cold for me, just as today’s rain and gloom are like unpleasant days. I feel okay after more than a week of respiratory symptoms such as cough, runny nose, sore throat and tiredness, but no fever. I have had several days of staying at home reading, doing puzzles, cleaning house, cooking real food from my refrigerator, doing whatever else needed doing, and mainly missing Pete. Boyfriend Pete does not have covid. We were together until I tested positive for covid and he tested negative. Now we talk on the phone daily but do not share this illness. A week ago this was a cold; now it is disease.

What to do? I have taken walks every day, using the newfound time that has arrived after I canceled all my outside activities. One afternoon I walked in Elver Park. Another day I walked on the Ice Age Trail Verona Segment; another on the Military Ridge State Trail in Verona; another in Governor Nelson State Park on Lake Mendota. Walking has helped with morale and prevents boredom. (Of course If I really was bored I could have done a lot more housework.) Today it is raining; walking will commence another day.

I think of a song that cheers me. Years ago the Beatles sang “I Want to Hold Your hand.” This connects me with Pete and how I feel about being or not being with him. “And when I see you I feel happy,” they sang. It works for me and the isolating aloneness. I sing with the Beatles and Alexa. Covid feels okay then and so do I.

Today’s clouds and rain will give way to sunshine and autumn leaves in a few days. Another song reminds me that the sun will come out tomorrow. I sing with the Beatles about holding hands and know that everything will get better. The clouds of covid will give way to sunshine. This pandemic of our century will go away eventually. We will have been part of a historic medical event. I am no longer sick, but just contagious.

A Friend from Long Ago

 Long, long ago, in a land far away (Park Ridge, Illinois), Roberta Brown, aka Birdie, and I were friends. She lived in a brown house a few doors away from ours, so I referred to her family as the brown house Browns.

Birdie and I spent our summertime playing in the sandbox in her back yard. She was about four years old and I was probably about six. She had plenty of kid size dishes for parties with our dolls, and crayons and paper for drawing together. My beautiful stuffed Raggedy Ann doll usually sat there with me. Once Birdie colored a dog purple, so I became bossy and told her, “Dogs are black or brown and never purple.”  She changed it to black.

Many times her mom brought us what Birdie called cambric tea. Mrs. Brown came out of the house with a teapot containing plain hot water. As she poured flavorless “tea” and we drank with little glass cups, Birdie proceeded to tell her mother and me what to do, until finally her mom said with irritation, “Roberta, don’t be so bossy.” We often sat there with Birdie giving orders. Pretty soon I was calling my friend Bossy Brown.

Why was this memorable? Maybe I should have forgotten all about it, but I didn’t. My little friend was showing me something. A kid can try to get along with her mother by ordering her around and get away with it. I didn’t talk to my parents that way. Relationships vary more than I realized in my six year old experience. I did not tell Birdie to stop talking that way. I don’t know that it would have done any good. She was my friend.

Birdie and I remained friends until my family moved out of the neighborhood when I was eight years old. I never saw her again.

Ice Skating

 

I have loved ice skating for many years. I skated as a child for many years to and through my seventies. Winter meant skating. Skating was and is fun and good exercise. It also includes falls and bruises but I always thought they were just part of skating.

When we were small our father took my brothers and me ice skating when we lived in Lincolnwood, Illinois, somewhere near our home. We had our own skates and slid around until we got tired. That was the beginning of my love affair with this winter activity. We also did some skating on Clark’s Lake near our Door County cottage before we lived in Wisconsin. Skating on a lake that was bumpy and barely plowed was work but it was wonderful to be out on this lake in the woods.  Cold weather didn’t stop us as we raced around on our large-enough icy spot.

After our family moved to Sturgeon Bay when I was ten years old, we had the market square. It was a half block size parking lot that was between our school and the fire department garage. The kids and I sped around on our skates during those short snowy days after school and on weekends. We bundled up in our skates, winter coats, stocking hats and warm mittens, and every now and then warmed up in the warming house. That space is still there today but it no longer is a skating rink. It outlasted our school building that moved to other locations.

I remember playing crack the whip on the market square with a bunch of girls about my age. We held hands in a line and skated in a circular pattern, with one girl at one end swinging the line of girls until the girl at the other end was speeding around. Sooner or later the kids let go and the one at the far end went sailing across the rink and often fell. That happened to me once and I ended up flat on the ice with a bloody chin. I got up and skated again.

I grew up, moved to Green Bay, and had kids. Husband Rick was not a skater. The rest of us enjoyed a large rink at Astor Park in Green Bay. I drove us there whenever we had time. We put on our skates and joined the many kids and a few moms. The kids skated with little need for adult help.

At Astor Park I was delighted to see that Joyce, a mom I knew, was skating around the rink and teaching the kids there to figure skate. This good skater showed them some easy steps and moves. I think my Mary and Libby joined them. I watched the impromptu performances while I skated around holding hands with little Sarah. John said “no, thanks” and skated by himself.

Time went by. The kids grew up. Rick and I moved to Madison. I was still ice skating, this time at Elver Park, wearing knee pads and wrist pads to soften the falls. While I skated, some neighborhood kids there saw me and said things like, “Look, someone’s grandma is skating.” By that time I was past age sixty but still loved being on the ice. Unfortunately, in my seventies my balance became unsteady. The problem was getting back up. On a few occasions son John was skating and helped me get up after falling.

Finally I gave it up.