Janathon Day 6

Another Janathon day in the books.  My Michael and I went out for a 5K walk this afternoon.  It was below zero with the wind chill making it cold, cold!  We dressed right and the only thing cold on me, was my face.  Tomorrow is supposed to be colder and windier, so a balaclava may be used, if I can find it.  During the day I did 3 sets of 25 squats, push-ups and some upper body lifting.

I think I would write more if I didn’t wait until almost midnight.  Maybe an earlier post tomorrow.  My wonderful warm fleece sheets await me.

The Statue Pt.1

The Statue

 

Dad wasn’t happy when I mentioned going to Norway.

Just for a week, I begged, before college starts.

He didn’t say no to me.  It’s his ancestor’s homeland.

I arrive, it’s dusk.  I just want to relax.

I walk to a park across from the hotel.

Spreading out a blanket I notice the statue.  He was magnificent!

It’s dusk, hard to see.  Did he wink?

I sit down, hear a noise, look up.

It’s him, my statue in flesh and blood.

“Torvald” he says.

“Ronnaug” I reply.

He speaks, I don’t understand.

He kisses me, I understand.

The universal language.

Part 2 tomorrow!

Thank you Rochelle for Friday Fictioneers!

Yellow House

Yellow House 1967

It was July of 1967.  I was 12 years old.  We lived in a two story house on the north side of Sheboygan.  My family consisted of Daddy, Mama and the six of us kids.  I was the oldest.  After me came Mary, who would be 11 in August.  Tammy turned eight in the spring.  The boys had their birthdays at the end of the month.  Jerry would be seven, Michael, three and Patrick, the baby was almost 2.

The house was a pretty yellow and so much bigger than the last one we lived in.  I didn’t care about any of that.  Who needs a big house when all that really mattered was that we left our old neighborhood and all of our friends.  I was mad for a short while.

My new school was a block away.  I quickly made new friends, but I could also jump on my bike and ride back to the other side of town in 20 minutes.

My sister Mary and I shared a room upstairs.  All the kids were up there except Patrick who had his crib in a room downstairs.  My parent’s bedroom was also on the first floor, next to the living room, at the front of the house.  It was the room Daddy died in.

Sunday, July 30 1967.  It was a day I will never forget.  My brother, Michaels’, third birthday.  Daddy had one of his headaches and wanted to lie down before church.  He died suddenly during that nap of a cerebral aneurysm.  He was 33 years old.  Mom had just turned 30.

We moved back to the south side shortly after that.

This was for Writing 101, Day 11.  Where did you live when you were 12. The twist is to pay attention to the sentence length.

Juneathon Day 14 – 20

Well, I completely blew that.  Spent a week up with my Dad and looked at buying my Grandparents old home.  That was all good but did not have internet and could not post.  I did things every day including biking, walking, weeding, planting, filling all the bird feeders, cleaning up and cleaning out.  I was Dad’s daughter and son for a week.  We went to the dump and cleaned up the yard.  It was a great time and I did buy my Papa’s house.

I blew it for the Juneathon, though.  No biggy, there’s always next year.

Oh yeah, there was no swimming as Lake Michigan is so flipping cold.  I would’ve been cold in a wet suit even if I had one.

Juneathon Day 8

Today was 34 tri dips, 23 push ups, 8 X 5 curls, 25 burpees, 80 squats.

Another busy day with Church, a trip to Goodwill, lunch and back for a nap.  Yes, a nap!  It is Sunday, right?  Besides that, more friggin mosquitoes!!  I am going to look for a natural spray and do it every day and just go out.  I went out to the dock earlier and there was a cloud of them around me. I do not like the word hate but…

I just got an email from my sister Dawn regarding a sisters challenge for fitness and weight loss for 4 weeks.  She threw it out to all of us.  We have been doing this for many years.  When one of 5 thinks she needs some help from the sisters, she throws out a challenge.  We talked and tomorrow we will tell each other what our “rules” are.  We have decided that My Fitness Pal is the one rule we will all abide by.  We will all have 2 more rules for ourselves.  It will go for 4 weeks.  More decisions tomorrow. This is good, as this morning as I dressed for church I felt like a sausage stuffing myself into a casing.  I am at a weight and fitness level I haven’t been at for 20 years.  I want to be healthy and fit as I go in to the last half of my life.

SistersGlidden

Special Delivery

While riding my bike, I saw an envelope in the ditch .  I stopped, picked it up.  It was addressed to Naomi on Brooks Rd.  Because of the dampness it was no longer sealed.  I pulled the letter out and read it.  OMG!  Suicide note written to her from Sam.  Dated today.  Somehow, dropped after pick up and before delivery to post office.  Maybe there is time.  No return address.  I had to get it to Naomi.  I know the road, half mile from here.  Knock at the door.  “Are you Naomi?”  She reads the letter, screams and gets into her car.  I get on my knees and pray she gets there in time.

Writing 101 Day 5

I Will Survive!

I looked forward to going home every summer.  This year we were doing something different.  This year we would be more active while still having fun, a little quirky, to include all ages.  I couldn’t wait to get on that plane and back to Wisconsin.

The ex was from So Cal and after getting out of the Army in 1978, he decided it was where we would live.  We were there long enough to have a baby, get jobs, move to 3 different homes, spend most of our money and move in with Ex’s divorced father and 3 siblings.  All that in 2 years, until we moved to Wisconsin, my home state.

We settled in a wonderful medium sized town, got good jobs and later put our son into a great public school.  We had it made, on the outside, anyway.  Ex started his construction company.  Good money and a lot of stress.  We built a home in an upscale neighborhood.  One of the jobs he took was remodeling a restaurant and lodge. It was a big project and took many months.  He did this on a handshake.  After it was finished, they didn’t have the money to pay it all.  Bankruptcy, moving out of our custom home, and then too much drinking.

Time to move back to California.  That was at the end of 1989.  Ex went back first and found a house and a job.  Our son and I came out shortly after that.  I had to leave a job I loved for 8 years and my family.

Oops, back to the story and fast forward to 2001.  I go back to Wisconsin for a week every summer.  I go by myself.  Ex is never happy about me going and won’t come with me.  After a few years, I don’t care, I just need to go.

I always end up at my parent’s home on the Island and my 7 siblings come, at least for the weekend.  We had done Christmas in July the years prior.  This year (2001), my brother-in-law suggested we do a family “Survivor”.  There were plenty of emails and phone calls to plan the weekend.  We figured we had between 20 and 30 people with sibs, in-laws, nieces, nephews, my grandma, my parents and a couple friends.  The teams ended up with 12 people each, ages 7 to 81.  We had spouses on opposing teams.  Each team had four siblings, mine with 2 sisters, a brother, Dad and assorted others.  The other had 2 brothers, 2 sisters, Mom, Nanny plus 6 more.

Events included food challenges, basketball shooting, how far can you jump, hit a golf ball and sunflower seed spitting.  We picked teams on Friday night and saw the area my bro-in-law chose for the tribal counsel. Games to begin on Sat morn…

Tribal Counsel

Writing 101 Day 4

View From the Dock

River06042014

 

If I could be transported anywhere in the world, I would want to be sitting on our dock enjoying a partly sunny, breezy day, with the temperature around 65 degrees.  I fell in love with that spot when I first moved here.  It was where I found peace and solitude after leaving my marriage and everything I had known for most of my adult life.  I started a new journal there, I laughed there, I cried, I began a new relationship on that bench.

We are on a river that if we wanted to, we could kayak out to Lake Michigan.  It’s a narrow river, about 60 ft. across and pretty shallow.  Trees line the shore and right now they are full of new leaves.  The green is a beautiful sight after the long gray winter.  On the opposite side, about 100 feet away is a small waterfall that we can hear all year long except when it’s frozen over.  I love that sound at night with the window open.  It’s been called Slippery Rock for many years.  During the summer, the campers go there and you hear the children screaming in fear or delight as they slide down the rocks.  That’s also the prime time for groups of people tubing down the river in front of the dock.  All different kinds of people.  There are families, groups of couples with their designated beer cooler tube, and sometimes groups of teenagers.  It is people watching time, but so different than at an airport or the mall.  It’s almost intimate, catching them in private moments only meant for them.  Some of them are friendly and will talk as they float by, others won’t look at us, almost like we are interrupting.  I always have my camera with me and take pictures while I sit there.  Some people pose, others hide and then there are those who just stare at me with the, don’t even think of taking my picture, look.  The voyeuristic side of me, loves it.

About half a mile upstream is the dam that creates the lake.  When the ice is melting and the water is rushing over the dam, there is a good current.  As summer goes along and the lake level drops, the current is pretty weak.  Sometimes it looks almost glassy out there.  At this time of year you can see the bass splashing in the areas where they are making their beds.  We do fish off the dock but catch and release.  I almost feel like they are my fish.  There were a couple of guys in waders last year fishing about 20 feet from the dock.  I went out there and told them not to be catching “my” fish.  They probably thought I was crazy.  Maybe I am…

The Offer

Falling asleep last night, took forever.  Staying asleep, impossible.  Getting up, very difficult as I slept hard from 5:30 a.m. to 7:30 a.m.

There are a few reasons for my insomnia.  Last night one of the reasons was the offer I got on a property I just listed.

My ex and I flew to Wisconsin for my 50th birthday back in 2005.  It was a great week.  All seven of my siblings came up to the Island and roasted me in my parent’s dining room.  It was hilarious. Something I will always remember.

While we were there we looked for a piece of property.  He fell in love with one off the beaten path.  It was all wooded, lots of hard woods, mostly oak.  We bought it.  I was thrilled to own a little bit of a place (born there) I will always love.

Out of the eight properties we owned, it was the only one I wanted when we divorced in 2012.  Fast forward to now.  I will never put a home on that property, I can’t afford it.  I listed it last week assuming I wouldn’t get an offer for years.  It would take someone with the same vision as my ex to consider buying it.  I got a call yesterday from the realtor.  He had an offer, cash, but lower than I wanted to go.  The guy has adjoining property to mine and just wants it.  He has a reputation for being an ass and a hard negotiator.  Do I take the money and run or counter and risk losing the guy?  That is my dilemma.  I make the phone call now.

Oops, twenty minutes is up. Seems short but I was also scanning the signature pages sent by the realtor.

First post for Writing 101 done!