It was just like I ….
It was just like I assumed, “early copy” tucked away on page 17. As the saying is always said somewhere, let the writing begin.
I promised to tell you about the Corn Festival parade. Well, what can I say, besides it was like getting put on Cloud Nine? I thought it was pretty special this spring when I ended up on the billboard out on the corner of 73 and 98. This was just the frosting on the cake.
When we (they) got the wagon decorated and all got in, I thought it was a great group of employees, their husbands and children. We got lined up and when the parade started, they all jumped out and started handing out candy and a small gift token from the Rehab and Living Center. It really sounded good when the announcers told the parade watchers the center has been around for over 101 years. When I think about it, no wonder I think I’m on Cloud Nine just living here.
ÓÓÓÓÓ
It is getting close to the end of the baseball season. Maybe it is just because they are both in a poor division in their leagues, but the Minnesota Twins and Milwaukee Brewers are both in first place. Won’t that work out to quite a playoff ?
ÓÓÓÓÓ
What is a piece of wood worth? My sonin- law Bob Loos thinks the going rate for those little stacks of wood piled outside gas stations must be about a dollar a stick. That may be true, but it makes me wonder how many sticks I’ve handled in my lifetime. Would that make me a million, billion or trillionaire?
They kind of joke about how many times a piece of wood warms you up. Our farm was timber when Grandpa Berglund homesteaded in 1884. It then became second growth, and woodland isn’t much for grazing land. So Dad and my brother Harold made it a winter project to cut wood.
I can’t take much credit for cutting the trees down, but I have a finger that got caught in the wrong place that still gives me trouble.
There weren’t chainsaws when I was young; at least we didn’t have one. But I did handle one end of a crosscut saw in cutting them down. The horses and a sled made the trip out every day, and the trees cut down were hauled home and piled at the bottom of the hill below the house and barn.
In the spring, a neighbor had a saw rig, generally with an old Model T engine for power, that was used to buzz the trees into chunks.
The next step was to pile the wood in ranks so it could dry out. The rule we tried to follow was green wood causes chimney fires. Once piled, it stayed until some rainy day or before spring work, then it was hauled up and piled either in the woodshed or just outside.
We all took turns splitting chunks into small pieces for the cookstove. That’s where I came in. It was always my job after school to make sure the wood box got filled for use that night and the next day. That box got replaced by a smaller size when the dining room/pantry wall got moved to create a separate kitchen. That old box sat in my garage for years. I assume since Savanna Dietsche lives there now, it is still there.
Some of the big chunks, especially oak or anything that wouldn’t split easily, got piled and brought in for the heater that sat in the living room. Between the heater and the cookstove, it kept the house warm, especially since the space between the ceiling and upstairs floor was covered with straw and dirt.
ÓÓÓÓÓ
I guess you could call this a flashback. It happened over 60 years ago.
There was something called All-Star Wrestling and it was featured every week on television. You got to know who the good guys were as well as the bad guys. There were people who were fans and then some who didn’t care. Florence’s mother was a big fan.
One week, a live bout was going to be held in the St. Paul Auditorium, so we decided to drive to Northfield, Minn., and take her folks. Jackie came along, but Florence stayed at Grandma’s with Sue.
There were a number of preliminary bouts ahead of the feature bout, which was going to be Vern Gayne and some other guy. I looked at my watch and noted we already had watched close to two hours of wrestling. So just how much more were we going to see?
The excitement grew as the wrestlers showed up in back of the auditorium. On the way in, Gayne got in a scrap with his opponent and picked up a folding chair and hit him with it. The referee was watching from the ring and called the match by disqualifying Gayne.
That really caused a big ruckus. Finally when things settled down, most people got up and left. But not Florence’s mom. We finally got her up and on the way out she spotted Wally Karbo, the promoter, in a phone booth. She wanted to wait for him to come out.
Finally we were on the way home, but Grandpa decided to stop at McDonald’s. Grandma wouldn’t get out of the car. As we drove home, Florence’s dad didn’t make it any better by telling how good the hamburger was. Once home, I told Florence the next time she could take her mother.
There never was a next time.
ÓÓÓÓÓ
That should be all until next week. That is, until I tell you about my special visitor. Bruce Hadler stopped by – as I said, a special visitor. I must say he has learned to cope with his handicap quite well. Just a reminder that when we think we got it tough, you can always find someone in worse shape than we are.
