She's leaving home, bye-bye!

There’s no getting around it. It’s going to happen. It really is.

My wife is going to leave me.

Really.

She will leave me for one week–more like 6 1/2 days–when she heads off on her tour down to southern Missouri this weekend.

It’s … going to be different for both of us. For one thing, I don’t cook very well. Hopefully, I can get by. Also, she normally takes care of our three cats–both feeding them and “loving them up” from time to time. Like several times a day. Each.

That’s not going to be in my portfolio. I’ll do well to feed them and make sure they have enough water. So we are going over those instructions.

Beyond that, it’s going to get lonely. No getting around that. Keep in mind that we have been married for “well over five years,” and in all that time we have never been apart for more than four days at a time–ever. This time, we’ll be apart for nearly a week. Plus, she will be farther from home than either of us have ever been. In fact, she will be the first of us to ever leave the Upper Midwest.

(Yes, we have not led very exciting lives.)

We have been preparing for this as well as we can. She got a Tracfone, so she can call me from far away. I got an AC charger for her Ipod and filled it (the Ipod, not the charger) with her favorite kinds of music. She will also have a charger for the rechargeable batteries in her camera.

“Maybe you should take” this and that. Extra clothes. Extra money. A swim suit. A microfiber cloth for cleaning glasses. BreathRight strips. Various over-the-counter meds, plus her prescriptions. This and that. I have been recruited to record “Monk” while she is gone. We went for a shopping trip yesterday, where she got things like undies, bras and luggage tags.

On Saturday afternoon, I drive her about 90 miles west, to the travel agency–the bus leaves at 8 a.m. Sunday. After it heads south, I am on my own for a while. Monday, I’ll be busy at the office, laying out the paper. Maybe that night I’ll go to a bar to watch a football game. Or else a movie at home. Tuesday, I’ve got volleyball. Nothing on Wednesday–maybe I can visit a friend. Thursday, more volleyball. Friday, football. Saturday, writing at the office and then driving back to the bus station to get my weary traveler at the end of her trip.

You can come along, she told me. Yeah, sure. It’s like this. First, this happens to be the start of my very busy period at work. Her tolerance for country music is much greater than mine. She’s got the money, and she’s got the time. I have neither. So I’ll stay here.

Besides, I have had a few adventures in life, and I want her to have some, too. She has never been anywhere as an adult except where I have taken her. And her interests are different than mine. I don’t mind taking her to quilt shows here or there in Wisconsin, but this kind of distance is out of my league.

Before she goes, I will tell her to go have fun and live it up. If she gets the notion to do anything–absolutely anything–don’t think twice, it’s fine with me. No matter where she goes or what she does or who she does it with, fine. Bottom line is, she will be back home next week–so let her have some fun while she’s on her own. If she wants to be naughty, so what?

I do know one thing, though. When she gets Saturday evening, she’s going to be very tired. We will spend a very quiet Labor Day weekend, I’m sure.

****

We got some agonizing news at the office this week. Ready?

Our health insurance rates are going up sharply. The letter from the company says “We are facing an increase of 29.9% to maintain our current coverage.” Oh, is that so?

Well, in my case, right now I am paying $103.50 per pay period (twice a month) for my “healthy lifestyle” coverage. Starting in September, that goes up to $164.09 per pay period. So for me, it’s going to be a 58.5% increase.

That also means my take-home pay goes down by $60.59, and that’s a serious decrease, too. On top of that, the deductible has doubled: from $500 per person/$1,000 for the family to $1,000/$2,000. After we hit $2,000 of covered expenses, the copay starts kicking in.

And I know I’m doing better than a lot of others who are collectively known as “the working poor,” those who don’t have insurance or who work a batch of part-time jobs. It just doesn’t add up.

Now, compare that with a friend of mine who works for a university–one of their business offices. She tells me she pays $59.08 every two weeks to cover herself and her husband. The annual deductible is $250 per person/$500 per year family. (There are three different levels of care, and theirs is the middle plan.) On top of that, her husband is retired military, so they have coverage from the government, too.

When my wife and I went on our three-day vacation trips this summer, some of the places we visited were Wausau and Appleton, Wis. Both are the homes of a number of insurance companies, and we couldn’t help but notice the palatial/opulent corporate offices. My premiums at work.

Gee, do you think this is a sore point with me?

Health care insurance reform is looking more distant each day. Sorry to say it, but you can’t deny facts. The “big lie” strategy has succeeded in getting the policy debate completely off course. And now Ted Kennedy has died. He was a great man because he cared about the little people. Like me. There aren’t very many like him: on the endangered species list. And, as for him being an unapologetic liberal, that breed may have just gone extinct.

There have been a few blog posts about the health care debate over the last month or so, and they have ignited flame wars. More heat, less light is not going to solve anything.

I just wonder about those who read about the debate in other countries and how they must be rolling their eyes at this. I’m a proud American, and I don’t like it when my country makes a fool of itself.

But we seem to have this knack.

Chaos theory in print

I wanted to write something wise and profound this week, but it's not going to happen. I know that even as I type these first words.

I wanted to write about a very busy four days due to two very different trips (one for my son, one for myself). I wanted to write about my wife finally deciding to go on that long trip late this month. I wanted to write about the 40th anniversary of Woodstock. I wanted to write about the first anniversary of B's first letter to me (which was yesterday). I wanted to write about John Hughes' passing--a rare Hollywood filmmaker who seemed to understand young people.

But there's really not much time this week to reflect thoughtfully on things. My son (from near Detroit) is visiting for a couple days--he arrives this evening. He doesn't visit often--usually, just around the holidays, and then he's gone again. Then the county fair is this weekend, and I will be spending much of the weekend there. And the board that I serve on has its annual meeting Saturday morning; I, as president, have to write a letter to the members. That board has a regular meeting early Wednesday morning. Then I've got the football scrimmage Friday morning out of town. And I've also got to write the editorial and track down the girls volleyball coaches for season previews.

This is going to be one bloody long week.

So here it is. Chaos theory for a while.

The first trip (Thursday and Friday) was to take my younger son to Green Bay. Essentially, it was a shopping trip for him, and I was his chauffeur. We made our regular stop at the Green Bay Packers Pro Shop, Best Buy, a shopping center, a video exchange place and finally the NEW Zoo north of Green Bay. NEW=Northeast Wisconsin. He paid for the motel. I covered most of the meals. We got back home late Friday afternoon.

The second trip (Saturday and Sunday) was a solo trip to a little farm near Appleton, which is now a private place for people to camp and swim. Oh yeah, it's clothing-optional, too. My friend S and her husband are regulars there and said I could sleep in their tent, so that's what I did. With temperatures in the upper 80s (a rare warm spell this summer), I made a beeline to the pond once I arrived and enjoyed that for a while. Later, S and another woman gave me a very relaxing backrub. (By the way, S did remember to return my Crackberry.)

We had corn and brats for supper, plus potato salad and pasta salad. After that, we sat around the campfire, talking about this and that, listening to the radio and enjoying a bottle of mead (honey wine) S had brought along--once we managed to get the cork out without a corkscrew.

Yeah, we're wild people. Everybody was in bed by 10:30 p.m. or so.

On Sunday morning, it was clouding up with rain on the way, so we went to town for a breakfast buffet, returned, packed away the tents and went on our way. I got back home in mid afternoon. While I was gone, my wife was entertaining her youngest sister and her husband--they had gotten married privately the day before. The three of them had a good time on Saturday while I was gone, and I got to see the them Sunday before they left.

I'll skip Woodstock until life gets calmer (if it ever does). Just so you know, I was not there. I had been at a music festival in Milwaukee maybe a month earlier (we lived in the suburbs), and I had heard about this big festival coming up in New York. But I was working and didn't have my own car. So all I know about it is second-hand.

But God, I wish I had been there!

That brings up a different 40th anniversary. It was right about that time that a girl I knew from high school called me and asked if I wanted to go on a blind date with her, her boyfriend and a girl she knew from work. So I agreed. I guess the girl and I got along OK. She is downstairs now, watching TV with the kitties.

She made her final decision about that trip to Branson, Mo., late last week--she sent in her check. So now we have to take care of a few things: She has to get a cell phone, so she can call me from far away, and she needs an AC charger for her Ipod. She will be gone for a week, and I and the kitties will be soloing while she's gone.

I will miss her a lot--but I really wanted her to go on the trip. I've been trying to get her to open up her world and have new experiences and just ... live a little! While we're still young. She is 10 months younger than me. In many ways, though, I think I am much younger.

The first anniversary of B's first e-mail to me was Monday. I still have it. I wrote her, marveling at everything that has happened between us in the last 12 months ... and wondering what will happen in the next 12. She will be out of town for a medical appointment part of this week.

OK, is that chaotic enough for you? That's my life, at least this week's edition of it. Next week? Should be a lot quieter.

Stone bridges, a wonder cave and a missing phone

My wife and I marked a quiet 38th anniversary last Friday.

It was quiet because the previous three days were spent running around central Wisconsin on a mini-vacation trip. We came home a bit tired out and spent out. So for the big night, she made chicken parmigiana for supper, and then we went to the local theater (the only movie house in the entire county) to see "Up," which just arrived in town. (According to the posters, "Public Enemies" will be getting here soon. Before the DVD comes out!)

We planned this vacation so she could go to some places she was interested in. With the help of her AAA book and some diligent web-surfing, she picked some pretty good ones off the beaten track.

Our first one was a stone arch bridge in Merrill, Wis., which carries traffic through the downtown area ...


We saw a park nearby and walked down a path to another, even older bridge. This one had a sign from the construction company, dated 1909. It was much narrower--one lane wide ...


The next stop was Wausau. Our main stop there was the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum. My wife was mainly interested in a sculpture garden on the grounds, and we walked around there. They had an exhibit with metal sculptures by artist Wendy Ross ...




We also walked down by a small garden, where the bees were busily at work ...


From there, we walked around to the main (temporary) entrance of the museum and went inside. They had two temporary exhibitions. One was photos of jungle life, taken by a National Geographic photographer. The other was called "American Ruins," about places like ghost towns and crumbled, overgrown mansions from long ago. All the photos were taken in black-and-white, using infrared film, so the leaves, grasses and other foliage comes out white, not dark as you would expect. Interesting effects. We studied the photos for quite a while.

None of the photos on their website show the white leaves that well, but they give you an idea of what the exhibitions were like. No photos were permitted inside. The LYW Museum is best known for its "Birds in Art" permanent display, but we had to bookmark it for a future visit. We had one more place to visit this day.

This last stop for Tuesday was way out in the country, about 70 miles away on country roads. Called Jurustic Park, it is composed mainly of fanciful sculptures of animals and other creatures made from scrap metal.

But we had spent so much time at the museum that we arrived about 15 minutes after it had closed for the day. All we could do is take a few photos of the main entrance ...


... and a telephoto shot of a "hobbit house" inside ...


... before leaving. You can look over some of their other creations on their website--they really are fun to look at.

From there, we drove south to Marshfield and then east to Stevens Point, where we spent the night. Wednesday, we drove back west. This time our destination was the Rudolph Grotto, a Catholic shrine, gardens and "wonder cave."

This place was started during the 1920s by Father Philip Wagner, who became very ill while studying for the priesthood in Europe. According to the brochure from grotto, Wagner went to Lourdes in France, to the Grotto of Our Lady, in 1912. He prayed and prayed and promised that if his health was restored, he would build a shrine in Mary's honor. He got better and started planning.

Wagner became the priest in Rudolph in 1917, a new church was built, and he started envisioning flower beds and tree arrangements for his grotto. He used rocks from the surrounding area to build shrines. "Stones and large rocks were piled because he knew nothing of construction or masonry. In order to create the beautiful structures we see here today, Father Wagner began using concrete and the trial-and-error method of construction."

Father Wagner lived at the church and worked on the grotto until his death in 1969. Another man worked with him on the grotto until he died in 1991. They kept making more and more shrines in the park--the last one was completed in 1983.

It is intensely Catholic, of course. There was a series of stations of the Seven Sorrows of Mary, including this one ...


They also had statues for all 14 Stations of the Cross, plus many other shrines, plaques and statuary. Even a little wooden chapel ...


And then there was the Wonder Cave. We couldn't miss that. "A 1/5th mile catacomb-like passageway through the grotto depicting 26 shrines of the life and teaching of Jesus."

It sure was narrow, and you had to duck your head pretty often. Even my wife, who rarely needs to duck her head for any reason ...


It's very dark inside, of course, and the shrines are illuminated with colored lights. Quite difficult for a camera without a tripod or a flash, but at least this scene came out well ...


Outside we walked around the grounds a little longer when suddenly we encountered an untamed Wisconsin wildlife creature ...


And we also stopped at a museum about the history of the shrine, the parish and Rudolph, Wis. And among everything else, we came across this heartbreaking relic ...


One more stop before leaving the Stevens Point area: The Herrschner's catalog outlet store. How many of you have seen the Herrschner's catalog of craft items? This is where they come from. Here is the door to the store ...


... and here is a wall of yarn of all colors of the rainbow ...


They also had a large variety of fabrics. I was impressed, but my wife said she has seen larger varieties at the Hobby Lobby stores, which was on our schedule for Thursday. She was especially disappointed by the relative lack of needlework items and the large quantity of "close-out" items for sale--she thought there would be a lot more to look at.

From there, we got on the highway and drove to Oshkosh, where we met up with S and her husband. It happened to be his birthday, and our original plan was to see "Public Enemies," which they hadn't seen yet (even though some scenes were shot in Oshkosh and they took me to see the preparations over a year ago). But S doesn't like violent movies, so she wasn't going to go. They also had their 5-year-old grandson with them, whom they were babysitting. Hmmm.

We finally decided: We would go to a movie that everyone could enjoy. We opted for the new "Ice Age" movie, and everyone went and had a good time. From there, we had supper at the Golden Corral buffet, and then we went to our motel, to relax in the swimming pool and (especially) the hot tub.

That wasn't the end of our day. They invited us to join them at a neighborhood bar near their home, for a birthday toast. Neither of us visits bars very often, but we went this time, spent another hour with them and had a good time. The highlight was when Johnny Depp (from "Public Enemies") came on the David Letterman show, and life at the bar ground to a dead stop. The younger women were swooning!

That capped a very busy Wednesday. Thursday was supposed to be a lot easier: Just visit a few stores my wife wanted to visit (Hobby Lobby, Fashion Bug) and then start driving home. By about 11 a.m., the shopping was done, and we pointed the car north. In Appleton, the last big city on our way, we stopped at a sub place for lunch. As we walked to the store, I reached for my cell phone out of habit, to see if there were any messages. It wasn't there.

I checked my pockets, to see if I had stuck it in there. Then I went back to the car and checked the area around the front seat. Then the trunk, where I had changed a shirt earlier and may have absent-mindedly put it down.

It wasn't here. It wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere.

My wife said, "Maybe we should go back and look." "Back there" meant Oshkosh, about 30 miles south, where we had started the day. We had only made a few stops, and I knew I had it while waiting at Hobby Lobby. We zipped back south. Once we got there, we stopped at each place. Nobody had seen anything. I left addresses and phone numbers, just in case.

We still hadn't had lunch--it was 1:30 by now--so we went to a Subway, and my wife got something. I was just too upset at myself to eat anything. I had a sip or two of her soda, and that was all. Nothing to do but drive back north, phoneless, my mind racing, imagining the cost and hassle of getting a new phone set up.

Three hours later, we were home. My wife checked the answer machine. Sure enough, a woman had called, saying she had found my phone in a parking lot. The next message was from S. The woman had contacted her, too, and they had gone down to pick it up.

They aren't going to mail it to me: We had earlier made plans to meet again this weekend at that clothing-optional "beach," where they like to camp in summer--I haven't been there yet this year, and that was on my to-do list. A mailed phone wouldn't arrive until late this week, so I told them to just keep it until I get down there.

A hectic end to a busy trip. On Monday, the first official high school football practices were held. Summer is nearly over.

Waiting for something good

There is a saying … something along the lines of “Fatigue makes cowards of us all.” I think Vince Lombardi is credited with it.

He was probably referring to football, but I guess it applies to other aspects of life as well. I’ve been feeling really tired lately, and I haven’t exactly been feeling brave and bold, either. Coincidence?

Some things have been bothering me that I know shouldn’t be. It’s that simple. I’ve been tired lately, and I haven’t been able to turn off the worry and fears. Where is that switch, anyhow?

Emotions are mixed up. Maybe my mood will be better in a little while. Some things I’m trying to do feel a lot like banging my head against the wall. I’m so impatient for something good to happen to me. And I am trying my hardest. But that effort hasn’t made any difference. When I work hard at something and see those efforts fail, I tend to get disappointed and depressed. So that’s where I’ve been at.

Maybe I ought to be more relaxed about things, let go and take a “whatever!” attitude. But that isn’t easy for me, especially when it really matters to me.

If you don’t know (if you are fairly new to my writings), be advised that I can throw as good a pity party for myself as anybody. I really can. Take some weariness, mix in discouragement, stir in impatience, put it in a 300-degree oven for 20 mintues, and it’s ready.

At those times I tend to forget a few things. Or I focus on some things and forget about others.

I tend to forget that I am the only one responsible for my own happiness. Nobody else is–just me. So if I’m going to be happy, it’s all up to me. What I need to do is reflect on the good things and not worry about the others. Change what I can do something about. Accept what I can’t do anything about. Be wise enough to know the difference.

If you have been following along, you know a few of these concerns already. The canceled weekend planned with B. The work load all summer (supposedly my slow time of the year). The house that hasn’t sold.

I can tell you a few more. A big one is my late aunt’s nephew, who was the executor of her estate … and who evidently has embezzled a lot of the money. He is facing criminal charges now but pleaded not guilty at the arraignment, which drags out the whole process further. My aunt died in the first weeks of 2007. The trial won’t be until the spring of 2010. Sentencing may be in the summer. Restitution to the estate: who knows? Will I live that long?

Then … I’d like to get another car. I’ve had my present car for six years now, and it has 166K on it. That’s 267K kilometers. But it’s still doing well, still gets pretty good gas mileage. And still is just as small as it’s ever been. Until my aunt’s estate gets settled or my mom’s house sells, though, I won’t be in the market. Not that I’m planning to spend a lot, either.

(By the way, Cash for Clunkers doesn’t apply to vehicles that still get about 36 mpg.)

There’s one more I could tell you about. But I sure don’t want to scandalize all of you by telling you about my search for a special friend, one who lives close enough that I could visit her once in a while–every month, more or less.

I am searching. I am trying. I know she must be out there. But I don’t want to upset those of you who hold fast to traditional beliefs on marriage, so I won’t tell you about that.

****

My wife and I took a mini-vacation trip last week. Photos and stories to come. We went to some odd places and had one really odd adventure involving my cell phone.

But it’s late and I’m tired. Time to post this and get some sleep. After all, isn’t it the lack of sleep that is at the crux of all this?

Into the wayback machine

We’ve got just one month to go in a summer that never really got going. We didn’t know that back in early June when my wife and son and I took a one-day trip to Rhinelander to have a little fun.

That was before the short trip to Canada and before the Fourth of July trip. On this one, the featured stop (aside from exercising our shopping muscles) was a visit to a city-operated historic museum named Pioneer Park.

It’s not pretentious at all, but there was a lot to see and study. It’s a quick jump into the time machine and back a few generations. Back when trains carried goods and supplies and raw materials all over. When lumberjacks chopped down trees with pure muscle power. When children went to schools that had all the grades in the same room.

An old train and a semaphore marked the outside of the depot and the Rhinelander Railroad Museum …

Nearby, a crossing sign showed the little reflectors that were used on signs in the days before reflectorized paint was invented. I turned on the flash to get the reflections …

Then inside the depot, to the ticket counter, which stood under some old station signs …

A little further, a display showed what life in the old train depot was like–manual typewriters, glass insulators, hand-written account books and a hand-wound clock in the corner …

Downstairs, they had a model train layout that showed what Rhinelander was like back in the old days–minus the pillars, of course. At the bottom right, there are some coin slots that were supposed to make the trains run. David and I both deposited quarters … and shrugged our shoulders as the trains remained stationary …

We went back outside to look over a big log sledge that once carried logs out of the wood in winter, pulled by horses on ice trails …

What kind of loads did those horses pull? We went to the Rhinelander Logging Museum to find out. This photo from 1897 ought to answer that question. Several other pictures in the museum showed huge loads …

The museum included a cook shack and the loggers’ barracks. Here is the room where the loggers ate0–the kitchen is in back, beyond where David and my wife are standing …

We didn’t get to the barracks in time, but this is what they were like back in the day …

Then we went to another building and went down a short entry hall …

… into a one-room school building, the Rhinelander School Museum …

Very nostalgic place. How many of you learned how to make letters (printed and cursive) by following these guides lined up above the blackboard? …

And how many of you first read from books like these? …

How did the one-room schools teach eight different grades in one room at the same time? By intricate planning, as this schedule shows …

The old classroom had a working stereoptican with cards, and my wife enjoyed trying that out. Outside of the wall maps and blackboard and books and globe, that was the extent of multimedia. Most of the stereoptican cards were over a hundred years old …

Such teaching demanded a lot from a teacher, and so did the rules that they were expected to follow faithfully. I got several different sets of rules set for teachers, and here they are:

• You will not marry during the term of your contract.
• You are not to keep company with men.
• You must be home between the hours of 8 p.m. and 6 a.m. unless attending a school function.
• You may not loiter downtown in ice cream stores.
• You may not travel beyond the city limits unless you have the permission of the chairman of the board.
• You may not ride in a carriage or automobile with any man unless he is your father or brother.
• You may not smoke cigarettes or play at cards.
• You may not dress in bright colors.
• You may under no circumstances dye your hair.
• You must wear at least two petticoats.
• Your dresses must not be shorter than two inches above the ankle.
• It is understood the teacher will attend church each Sunday and either teach a class in Sunday school or sing in the choir.
• To keep the schoolroom near and clean, you must:

1. Sweep the floor at least once daily.
2. Scrub the floor at least once a week with hot soapy water.
3. Clean the blackboards at least once a day.
4. Start the fire by 7 a.m. so the room will be warm by 8 a.m.

Here are some teachers’ rules from 1872:

• Teachers every day will fill lamps, clean chimneys.
• Each teacher will bring a bucket of water and a scuttle of coat for the day’s session.
• Make your pens carefully. You may whittle nibs to the individual taste of the pupils.
• Men teacher may take one evening each week for courting purposes or two evenings a week if they go to church regularly.
• After 10 hours in school, the teachers may spend the remaining time reading the Bible or other good books.
• Women teachers who marry or engage in unseemly conduct will be dismissed.
• Every teacher should lay aside from each payday a goodly sum of his earnings for his benefit during his declining years so that he will not become a burden on society.
• Any teacher who smokes, uses liquor in any form, frequents pool or public halls or gets shaved in a barber shop will give good reason to suspect his worth, intention, integrity and honesty.
• The teacher who performs his labor faithfully and without fault for five years will be given an increase of 25 cents per week in his pay, providing the board of education approves.

****
I’ve got many more things to write about. The trick is finding the time, especially since my wife and I will be making a mini-vacation trip to central Wisconsin this week. Three days and two nights, starting Tuesday morning.

Coming attractions include some photos from the recent U.P. firefighters tournament and the rodeo held here last weekend. Believe me, I’ve got some really spectacular rodeo action shots–stuff good enough to submit to the state newspaper contest, I think.

The firemen’s pix combine action with humor–at times humor too suggestive for a family newspaper. But you aren’t offended by stuff like that, are you?

I didn’t think so.