The dumpster dive, the tuna salad, the story...

(originally published 02/02/09)

A retelling of a tale... about a Big Fish.

Big Fish hooked!

The lunch room was empty, he had forgotten to bring along a companion to his tuna salad sandwich- a reading companion. And the remnants from the lunch crowd earlier produced no magazines, or even a snippet of the sports page. So he took to digging in the trash...for reading material. He was desperate, bored- tuna salad made too blandly could only be savored by reading material- taking one's mind off not enough mustard and too much mayo. His dumpster dive produced a Sunday edition of the Bangor Daily News- and even it was only a segment- the sappy kind that women read or sissy boys get all emotional over. An AP article caught his eye because of the gardening byline- he loved to garden. The tuna salad experience was looking up. He read and ate...finished up his lunch and threw the BDN back into the bin. And worked his way through till the end of his day- punched the time clock and headed home. That's it. End of story?! 

Man goes to work, has tuna salad for lunch, reads sissy segment in paper only because there was nothing else more he-man like to entertain him, tosses paper into garbage and finishes out his day.

Except- something he had read in that article tugged at him as he pulled into his driveway, some 20 odd miles away from his work place. Something weird, mysterious- so alluring, he turned his Toyota around and drove back, willingly- to the place of hard work for some 30 plus years- parked his truck, nodded to the guard (who probably thought it was pretty odd to see the man back at work after only clocking out some 40 minutes ago...) made a beeline (well, maybe not a beeline- more like a pilgrimage...OK, this part I'm trying to make sound more interesting) for the lunch room. To go dumpster diving again. Only- this time, there was no tuna salad, no need for passing the time with a good read...this time- the need was- truly, he didn't know. He only knew that something made him silly enough to waste time and a gallon of gas. So- for the second time that day, the man dug through the trash- this time more excited, more deliberate, more...nuts.

The dumpster dive, the tuna salad, the story... for whatever reasons, these strange combinations drove the man right out of his mind...and into his heart. He picked up a pen and paper and wrote to the subject of the story on gardening...just to say hello. Just to say I'm thinking about you, just to say-

"I've never done anything like this, I hope you don't think I'm odd- I just felt compelled to write to you and tell you I think you're a beautiful person. I just wanted to get in touch, hoped it would mean something to you, to let you know you should keep doing what you're doing..."

That's what Big Fish do...out of the ordinary, extraordinarily kind, wondrous things. They send an envelope to the Community Center in the local nearest little town, with a note explaining-" Please put this lady's address on this envelope if you would, and forward it to her. I'm from Maine and just needed to get this message to her. Thanks."

As of September 2007, this Mainiac and I have been pen pals. He didn't even own a computer or cell phone- he preferred going to the ocean, gardening , walking in the woods, listening to the radio. The Radio!!! I have since transformed him just a little bit- now there's a CD player, a computer (he hates it), and he did own a cell phone for a little while, but chucked it somewhere, probably into the deep Atlantic off some rocky shore.

He flew out here last March...and the rest, as they say- is history. He now commutes infrequently, meeting folks from all over the globe in his travels. He doesn't know a stranger, gives his seat up in busy airports to little old ladies and women with children. Tips his hat, and says stuff like-"Hey Bud!" and "Wat an Aushol!" and "Deah-could I have a drink of watah?" On his first ever trip here, he was a bit nervous- so the guy next to him, naturally charmed I'm sure- gave him a red key pass. (Apparently, there are secret little wonderful club rooms in certain airports where, with one of these keys- you get treated like Mick Jagger.) And now the guy(from Seattle) visits Maine to see the Big Fish and they've formed a friendship. Every time my BF flies, he meets, or better word- connects to other folks through his friendly, Maine-bear hug-like charm.

(So many times I get- "Why'd you come to Maine?!!  How did you meet The Big Fish?"...well, this story is how and partially why.

 And, our story continues...I am now a Mrs. Big Fish as of 12/21/12 and could never have conceived of this particular happiness.  We grow together.)

slow down-take it easy

Good morning.

I recently returned from visiting Illinois for a couple of weeks.  My friends and family joyously treated and greeted me with love, it was so good to see that all were well, including Grandma.  My daughters put up with me and I in return for their hospitality- cooked and cleaned and tried to make sure they were fed some of the good meals they love.  Within a couple of days though, it became apparent to me that their lives were best led by them, their nutritional needs were no longer any of my business and their casa was my casa as long as I respected their authority.  My oh my, how the tables have turned.  My Mathew was genuinely happy to have me around, visiting and talking as we have never done before.  I try to follow his personal philosophy, but the young man is a bit deeper than I can follow at times.  Our conversations were rich and I grew happier inside each time we were together, thinking how interesting his concepts- he really gave me food for thought and I long for and love those talks.   I tried to put myself in the younger sects shoes and realized honestly, I did not have that much going on upstairs at their age.   But from where I sit now, after years of experience and misadventures, I could teach them a thing or two- though it is their own drum they hear now, and the beat is foreign to me.  Generation gap indeed.  (Their jokes are not funny to me, the movies they find fascinating leave me scratching my head and yawning.  And the music..."It's not that I'm old, your music really does suck."   My favorite bumper sticker, long past it's sticky prime- wish I could find another and paste it for all the world to see.) ***with the exception of Bon Iver, I must say there is something about the music that gets under your skin and seeps even deeper...I like it, I like it.
Traveling from Maine to Illinois takes a bit of caffeine, good tunes and a willingness to put up with certain states with their certain drivers and wonder if the genes of conscientiousness and consideration were perhaps left in a corner behind a door by the creator.   In all the times I've traveled through Massachusetts,   I have yet to meet  many* who smile easily.  And when it comes to traffic pile ups and getting over or moving aside so another car can fit in- in my own personal experiences, I can't help but wonder if that smile might surface if only your car would crash and burn, bringing a dark joy to the seemingly joyless.   *I will say, one lovely toll booth operator towards the end of my Mass Pike experience  came out of his shack, smiling and talking all the while- and replaced my gas cap as I must have half hazardously twisted it on at the previous gas stop.   He must have thought I was a mute, all I could do was stare at him with great wonder, finally offering-"I do not mean to offend, but you are very kind.  I don't find that much in these parts."  He laughed and said people say that all the time, matter of fact- he said he was the only one good egg for hundreds of miles.  Then he called me sweetie and wished me well.  Angels among us folks, angels among us.
Truck drivers are the travel agents from heaven.  Need a new route?  Wonder what's up ahead worth getting off the main drag to see?  Ask a truck driver.  Not only will they tell you, they'll make you get your Atlas out while they scratch your dog's ears, help you flip to the right page and hold the page down in wind gusts while tracing with their fingers the most beautiful of drives.  And the restaurants they prescribe are always spot on.  And on top of all of that- should they see you trapped behind slow drivers in fast lanes, they'll set a pick and let you pass.   Truck drivers, good eggs.

One last traveling remark...route 20, Chautauqua County Western New York.  Go.  Truck driver recommended & true wonder approved.  A beautiful reprieve from the turnpike, a blood pressure decrease r, an anxiety elixir, wine country and farms galore, unforgettable landscapes, slow lane, waitresses that call you "hon", ooohhhh I love that!

(I considered letting this blog go to wherever blogs go  after their long run...but, I'm gonna hang in there.  My thoughts tend to be a bit on the loner- looking through the big picture- wondering inside of wonder- life in the slow down- take it easy lane.  If I can but somehow compile that into interesting enough stuff, not to entertain but to inform, not to say this is how one should live, but to say truly- this is how I get by.  I for one do not like to be told how to think, how to live and I do not aim to steer you dear reader, onto a road that was not meant for anyone to travel but me.  I will continue to encourage all to be kinder than necessary, to seek to understand and by all means- seek out the friends and strangers among you that have not only their best interests at heart, but everyone's- for the sake of a common good.  I will continue to sing the praises of sustainable living, local eating, and a  back roads philosophy  If you can stand more of that kind of perspective,  please come and visit- you're always welcome.)

Take care-

When Good Chicks Go...

God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,

AND thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face,

A gauntlet with a gift in "it".

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Good morning,

One more time before I go, I've stopped in to say hello, goodbye...Sayonara; if it is to be, so be it.

Here's a low down on the high craziness that goes along with moving, relocating, shakin' down and moving on:

Bullshit is unavoidable. (A new adage to the phrase "shit happens")
I like my take on it, between happens and unavoidable, the latter is undeniable, therefore- prepare for the unexpected.
(Please pardon the cursing, though please know, those cuss words have a bit of grace mixed in too.)

Thick skinned people become thin skinned after too many sleepless nights, Veteran's Day Florist from Hell comments and haulers who never show up to take the stuff they promised to come and get, so at the zero hour, after selling truck- you have to find someone else to take the stuff- making the thin skinned wonder get on all fours and sob. Cleansing, yes- Confidence building-no.

There are friends, and then there are friends. Moral support, hand holding, hugging, kicking my rear when it needs kicked, all rolled up in a bundle of warriors led by our own personal wonderful don't know what I'd do without her- Mrs. Doubtfire: Audrey. ( More like Ms. Hopefire)

"What do you mean my coffee pot is packed?!" And where's the garlic press, and teapot, and where do I sit?, and that book I was reading? and has anyone seen my glasses? and my camera? no, no, no, don't pack my retainer-yes, I actually put that thing in my mouth!

And my personal favorite-

Old tractors such as Betsy look great all on their own, but when selling said tractor- location, location, location! So I parked the old girl in the old corn crib- my, my she's a beaut surrounded by ancient cathedral-like peaks and slats of light. Everyone that lays eyes on her in that situation would get all nostalgic and Must have her, right?! So I go out there yesterday, manipulate her starter, tap her hood, say a prayer, pull the choke, lift the lid and jiggle her ground strap (she loves that, gets her every time!) and with the hood standing up, she roars to life!

Unbeknownst to me, a bundle of mice and their huge extended family had moved right in there on top of old Betsy's engine, and when she roared to life they burst out of there like Jiffy Pop Popcorn hot on the stove without a lid. Good God, they were all over me-up my pant legs, hanging from my shirt, crawling on my hands. I screamed and screamed and screamed some more, but I couldn't let off of Betsy's throttle and well, I couldn't touch the mice either, I mean EEEWWWWW!!! I shook the rafters and my eldest daughter with my screaming, she came running (not fast enough I can tell you) And what does she do when she arrives??!!! Laughs, guffaws, holds her belly and serves her right- pees her pants laughing! And they're still everywhere...running on the running boards, coming down the wire, and these were not your little country/city cute little run and hide mice, no sirrreee, these were LEAPING MICE!!!! MIGHTY MOUSE MICE- every one of 'em were singing-"Here I come to save the DAY!!!" (I can only reflect back on my mice morgue, and this was nature's way of getting back at me)...so, I surrender right here right now- no more frozen mice, no more traps, no more glue:BUT GOD AS MY WITNESS- I aim to find me the biggest, meanest, mouse inhaling cat and never will I be without one again., Nature against nature- mouse versus cat, 'nuff said. (And yes I wet my pants too.)

Believe me when I say, I've come undone. And I don't think it's the worst thing in the world. Balled up tighter than a Broody Hen upon her eggs- something had to give. I do. I surrender. Raising the White Flag. Rolling with it. Laughing 'bout it. Crying if it is to be.
See you soon, take care!

****(Attention please...this is the final installment of the Illinois truewonder, next up, new chapter, turning the page-Maine truewonder coming soon...)

this place of peace

Good morning to you. I have missed out on all the amazing stories on the net lately, no blog reading, very little writing- I'm behind and so far ahead I caught my tail last week! (I'm pretty sure that's Mainer talk...or I just made it up, either way- it paints a pretty vivid picture of the joy of selling a house/farm.)

NO- I haven't sold it yet. I did push aside a pretty lucrative offer because it smelled too fishy. Ever get that feeling that something just ain't right- and if it just ain't right and you have to live with that stinky smell the rest of your life, well- would you do it?! Are you following me?

I have never prayed for a specific amount for this place, I've always just prayed for a fair offer. And- a "gentleman" offered me that fair offer just last week- with a bit of cajoling, then pressure, then harassment, then down right rudeness then the mother of all no no's with me- Manipulation. I had asked for the weekend to make a decision, what I got were sleepless nights, too many phone calls and just downright wonder at why the hell someone would act this way...

But when this person started tearing down the place after months and months of filling my ears with the beauty of it all and how it was move in ready and just what they wanted....

Tact and diplomacy were left back at the office I suppose when this "gentleman" put on rags of manipulation and dishonesty and declared them his latest fashion statement. Sorry buddy, I really appreciated your old attire and would have handed over the keys. Why do folks act so damned shady when it comes to money? I've seen it far too often and it is one of the saddest testaments to human nature- greed.

I spent a sleepless night on this one, tossing and turning- What to do, what to do? About 3 in the A.M Sunday morning- I went out on the porch, sat on the swing, the night was lovely and moon glow bright....And I decided I was going to trust myself. My goods were honest, my home, this land- bright and true. I had nothing to fear, my concern was that if I sold the place in this way, under shady circumstances- the sun might never shine on my memories of the place again. The goodbye would be an apologetic one..."I'm sorry, I hope I did right...goodbye!" I want to leave this place of peace in peace A good Goodbye- so I said thanks but no thanks.

At first I thought I would feel overcome, distraught- how could I say no? I didn't say no- to me. I said yes to me. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, it feels some good.

I won't know the outcome until the outcome...comes. But I do believe I will feel a whole lot better about whatever decisions I make- they'll be right and bright, dappled sunlight is OK, but shady deals? Nope.

Take care-

Broad Strokes

Bath Illinois Bathing Beauties

Redneck Fishing Tournament

Shelbyville Lake Camping Trip

This gorgeous fellow is a frequent visitor here...

And a farmer and a hardheaded stand up guy.

Old Glory


Vibrant sunflower mocking a sunrise.

Sangamon River Adventure

Shadowy characters

Just some of my summer adventures...more to come. Illinois has encompassed me in warmth, sunshine and good times this summer of 2009. These are just a few of the broad strokes in recent memory..

Take care-

sticking it to the man

Good morning. I had one of the most unique, sumptuous afternoons yesterday. In little Greenview Illinois there is a community center, a bright yellow building that has CIA on it's sign. Every February they have a chocolate cook/bake off. It is opened to the public for taste testing, bingo, door prizes and picking out the people's choice awards on the most favorite dish. Oh, and then there is an auction after the crumbs settle. I was hesitant to go, my daughter Emma begged, pleaded and finally reasoned with me...



"Mom, chocolate! Need I say more?!"


Forgive me, but I said-

"Emma, is this church lady fun or kind of an adventure into chocolate?"

(She said she'd have to get back to me on that, calling just two hours prior to the start time.)

Well, I just have to tell you- it was an adventure!

These folks get together every year, trying to out do the previous year's entrants, and literally drench you in chocolaty morsels. You grab your plate, fill it up with as many as fifty samples, stagger back to your chair with the weight of an unbalanced load and start to nibble

. Ever been in a room full of people full of chocolate?! Pardon me, please- but you would have thought an orgy of ecstasy was going on!

"MMMMM....oh-my-God!!!...have you tried this one, it's...it's...it's...decadent, I feel a sin coming on!"


Church ladies included- everyone was moaning, rolling eyes, licking fingers, smiling- and I forgot my camera!!! Young and old were all in agreement-

Chocolate is good for the soul.


Fifty-fifty tickets were sold upon entrance, there was a little old gal there who'd sell 'em to you- 2 bucks apiece or 5 bucks for an arm length. She'd say-"Put out your arm dear." By golly I did, and thank the lord above, I have realllllly long arms- I must have had 12 chances for the drawing!
Now that's hometown goodness all rolled up into one afternoon.

At the commencement of the event, an auction was held. I had my eye on a homemade Angel Food cake- I didn't care what it might cost me (the proceeds were going towards this fine community's spirited celebrations-all inclusive) I had to have it. For thirty five dollars, I won my Angel Food- and that is precisely what it was- oh my goodness! I truly have eaten half of it already, half! On top of all the chocolate!

I ended my day at this fine affair by bidding against a local politician on a strawberry cheesecake. I ran the bid up, watched him to see just how far he might go...finally- he won and paid dearly. The fellow next to me said he was sorry that I had lost the bid, that Rich Brauer (a pretty decent individual in my book) always came to the auction and bidded accordingly, often going after the most scrumptious home made goodies. I winked at my neighbor and said-



"Oh contraire! It's not every day you get to make a politician pay out the wazoo..."


My neighbor just looked at me a little nervously...he wasn't sure if I was serious or just kidding....

Anyway- it was a day made for fun- old fashioned, belly rubbbing fun, with a fine finale of sticking it to the man....


Take care-

in our midst

"Danny Schmidt is a singing poet in the tradition of Townes Van Zandt and Leonard Cohen - a righteous artist dealing in the rough, beautiful truth. If you love a good song, he's a major find."


Hey you all...we will have a wonderful singer songwriter in our midst come April. His name is Danny Schmidt, his newest CD Little Grey Sheep hit number one on the folk charts and he is coming to Illinois! Anyone I can encourage to attend, I will...and take them with me to see Danny in Rockford Illinois on April 6th, Sunday. I'll list a few venue dates here and also his lyrics to Company of Friends, a wonderful song I can abscribe to. Couldn't be, wouldn't be worth much to myself or others if I didn't know the friends I do- with love and encouragement that fills my tank full. Yep.

COMPANY OF FRIENDS

When I die, let them judge me by my company of friends
Let them know me as the footprints that I left upon the sand
Let them laugh for all the laughter
Let them cry for laughter’s end
But when I die, let them judge me by my company of friends

When I die, let them toast to all the things that I believe
Let them raise a glass to consciousness
And not spill a drop for grief
Let the bubbles rise at midnight
Let their tongues get light as thieves
And when I die, let them toast to all the things that I believe

I believe in restless hunger
I believe in red balloons
I believe in private thunder
In the end I do believe

I believe in inspiration
I believe in lightning bugs
I believe in slow creation
In the end I do believe

I believe in ink on paper
I believe in lips on ears
I believe what's shared is savored
In the end I do believe

I believe in work on Sundays
I believe in raising barns
I believe in wasting Mondays
In the end I do believe

I believe in intuition
I believe in being wrong
I believe in contradiction
In the end I do believe

I believe in living smitten
I believe all hearts will mend
I believe our book is written
By our company of friends
Copyright 2007. Words and music by Danny Schmidt.

Thur 4/3 - Chicago, IL
On the campus of the Illinois Institute of Technology
At The Bog in the basement of The Hub
Free Concert sponsored by IIT, starts at 9pm
http://bog.iit.edu

Sat 4/5 - Wilmette, IL
Lilfest Concert Series
Show starts at 7pm
link

Sun 4/6 - Rockford, IL
Charlotte's Web Concert Series
in the Just Goods Listening Room
Afternoon concert - starts at 2pm
http://www.charlotteswebconcerts.com

Have a good one, take care-