It is a little hard ….
It is a little hard to get to work after the long holiday. It all went well. I was well fed and had some company. Sue came up one day and Jackie and Saylor dropped by.
I guess the big story around the nation during the week was the piles and piles of snow at Buffalo, New York, just off the shores of Lake Erie.
How do you deal with six feet? I thought six inches at a time was plenty to handle, but six feet?
I can tell a story of lake-affected snow. I don’t remember the exact year, but Florence and I had been to Washington, D. C. The weekend we had gotten home I had a meeting on Saturday at Medford.
We decided to make a weekend of it. So, Florence and Mark decided they could ride along and after the meeting we could go somewhere else the rest of Saturday and Sunday. We packed our bags for an “overnighter” and headed north.
Once the meeting was over they decided a trip to Lake Superior would be doable. So we headed north and found a nice motel in Bayfield, with the idea of going to Madeline Island on Sunday. A trip to the island requires a ferry boat ride. We had been there over the summer before.
All was fine Saturday night, but we woke up to snow in the morning and it was coming down by the bucketful. Then we got up, had breakfast and decided to head home.
All was fine as we headed south. Then we came to the corner of the lake and headed east toward Ashland. The snow was wet and heavy. The windshield wipers were having trouble keeping up.
At one point I could keep the car on the road by looking out the side window and Florence did the same thing on her side of the car.
As we got to Ashland and turned south, it wasn’t long before we got to Mellen and decided that would be a good haven. So by noon we were checking into the motel.
We made the best of it and in the morningheadedsouth.Toouramazement the snow quit at Spooner. I don’t know if any of Mark’s teachers bought his being “snowed out” excuse or not.
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One of my favorite things to do up here is to read. The motel called it a three-season room, I called it a porch. It overlooked the Memory Garden and had an assortment of good chairs, including an overstuffed one. If I wasn’t reading it was great to take a nap.
On the shelves going out to the porch is a big stack of books. One caught my eye. It was entitled “JFK and the Unspeakable”, written by James W. Douglas. It was about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy.
Seems he and Nikita Khrushcher had been talking about the Cold War.
He chose peace. Certain military leaders and others marked him for death.
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All is well as we start at new. I’d written about the lady NFL official. Now I see the Big Ten has followed suit. Pretty hard to miss that bobbin’ pony tail.
