THE PASSING OF SEARS ROEBUCK AND COMPANY

Elements of "time" and the "responsibilities of life" have cut down substantially on the frequency of my blogs, but occasionally an event of weighty importance prompts the quill be dipped into the ink  bottle.  This is one of those events.

Sears has filed for bankruptcy. With it goes the Sear's Catalog, several hundred pages of everything a family would need to survive. Whatever the need, be it socks, shorts, overalls or chicken wire, it could be found in the Sear's Catalog.

A new and current catalog was delivered annually, with prices valid through the entire year. When the new current catalog came, the old one was relegated to the "outhouse", where it served a very necessary purpose, for as long as the several hundred pages would last. Selection of pages used was very important, usually retaining the sporting goods section until last so that one could lust over the JC Higgins shotguns and other sporting equipment one would contemplate for the next Christmas Holiday.

I often thought that my excellent eyesight was partially a product of circumstance, since the lighting in an outhouse left much to be desired. Obviously, there was no electical power out there, so lighting was usually limited to whatever eked in through the partial moon opening grandpa cut in the outhouse door. I am not sure that was a valid assumption , but it will do until a better one comes along.

There have been a multitude of catalogs produced, as you can attest by the content of your mail box and bookshelves, but few would rival the excitement generated by the annual arrival of the "new" Sear's catalog.

It will surely be sorely missed, although, admittedly, Kimberly Clark has stepped in and assumed some of its important duties.

I have been reminded that some readers may have to put on their mid twentieth century thnking caps for this blog.　

Grandpa Hill

　


　

A BLOW DOWN AND A REBOUND

It has been some time since I penned an entry into this log. It seems as if the memories and events that create such thoughts were interrupted by that lousy storm that raised havoc with our Wild Rose retreat. In fact, June 14,2017, transformed the “retreat” into a “restoration project”.

Numerous runs to Waushara County resulted in remedial efforts rather than the more satisfying and relaxing log cabin retreats. I will not go into the gory details, but suffice to say the long escapes into the pines to battle our arch enemy “buckthorn” were replaced by removing fallen trees from places they did not belong. For the most part, that objective has been fairly well accomplished, I might add “with the help and sweat of many”. A few formidable chores remain, such as a submerged oak tree off the lake shore, but that will be tackled when warmer waters prevail. Then, a landscaping “to do” remains to be undertaken. In a few years, all will be forgotten—I think!

But, I am trying to visualize this as an ongoing labor of love rather than a chore. Perhaps, layering periods of restoration between intervals of deck dwelling and bird watching will make the entire undertaking more palatable. And it would support my philosophy that “too much of a bad thing is not good, and too much of a good thing is not bad”.

Regardless, right now the mercury is at zero, so landscaping is not an alternative. I had best go back to planning and waiting for a thaw.

2018 is bound to be better.   

THAT FEELING IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH

 You know the feeling.  The one in the pit of your stomach when you see something you don't want to see or encounter something that you don't feel capable of tackling at the moment.

The last time was many years ago as I was cruising back from Marshfield at 5500 feet altitude, enjoying a scenery full of beautiful cumulus clouds and blue sky when I realized all of the many holes through which I could see the ground  had been replaced with a solid layer of clouds, totally eliminating my view of mother earth.  Weather advisories confirmed a scattered 2500 foot ceiling all the way home, but the escalator was missing.

The feeling in the pit was eliminated when I judiciously made a 180 degree turn and headed back to where the breaks in the clouds made it possible to see hallowed ground again.  A normal descent brought me down to a 2500 foot ceiling and a comfortable trip back home.  What originally was thought to be a challenge was parried with a proper reaction, which resulted in a safe and satisfactory conclusion to the trip.

A similar feeling in the stomach showed up when I originally viewed the mess that a recent catastrophic storm levied on Waushara County and specifically on our Wilson Lake retreat.  But, with the help of many friends and relatives, it appears that a judicious 180 degree turn will restore the break in the clouds and help make an eventual and satisfactory end to this voyage possible also.  We sustained some property loss, though not near as much as others in the area, and we loss some dear old 150 year old Oaks which have provided shade and comfort for ages.  But new generations will replace them, and the view from the deck will be as captivating as ever.  May we all continue to enjoy it in years to come.

WINTER INVASION

This was a recent facebook entry I made.  Someone suggested I enter it into my www.cabin-muse.blogspot.com blog, so here it is.  I'll simply entitle it "Winter Invasion".

The first thing on my mind is thanking everyone for the many birthday wishes received.  I will endeavor to thank each of you individually and hope too many months will not pass before I have the chance to do so.

The next thing on my mind occurred during a recent visit up to the log cabin.  Since we don't have time to run up too often in the extremes of winter, we shoot up occasionally to check on things.  On a recent checkup, my faithful warden and overseer, Dolores, happened to check the old wood burner and reported something unusual was occupying the firebox.  Upon examination I discovered two gray squirrels cozily wrapped around one another in a deep slumber, prompted by the relatively warm cabin air.  When I attempted to evict the trespassers, I can only descrbe their response as "an explosion" as they rocketed up the chimney and out into the brisk winter air.  I closed the draft and within a few minutes the crafty devils had re-entered the chimney and were now reclining atop the draft, having refused to give up the handy heat source.  I will check later to monitor their abode.

GOOD SHAPE, BUT SLIGHTLY USED

One recent evening I sat in the family room and watched the faithful fireplace devour a substantial amount of firewood. As I studied the magical flames, as they curled around the logs, I contemplated on the time and effort it took to convert an oak or ash tree into a cord or two of nicely split firewood. It would depend, I concluded, upon when the project had been undertaken.

Not too long ago, I would look forward to, and even relish the chance to load a chainsaw and other necessary tools onto the old ATV and blast off into the forest to search out a good candidate for the wood pile. I could spend the better part of the day converting a volunteer dead tree into a substantial stack of firewood. And even feel quite chipper when the job was done.

Now, it seems to be more like work than fun. Not really "bad" work, but work non the less. I don't think it's because I'm older, I would prefer to characterize that as "good shape, but slightly used".

The walk out to the deer stand seems a little longer now. Even a stroll through the woods can seem longer, that is if it lasts too long. But, please don't get the idea that I'm complaining. I know how to handle the problem, if it should ever become a problem. Should the "good shape but slighty used" factor present itself, I'll simply take my foot off the gas and slow down. Come to think of it, I have probably been applying that rule for some time now, but the old ATV keeps moving along, though not quite as sprightly.

I noticed, however, that the fireplace and the old wood stove in the cabin consume wood at the same old rate, so I guess I had better get going at replenishing the woodpile, even though at a "slightly used" pace.

DEAR MOM AND THE BALANCE OF POWER

Dear Mom and the Balance of Power

A message for Andrea, Stephanie, Danielle, Aurora and any other young people who may be agonizing over the recent show.

In February of this year, I penned a blog spoofing a letter to Mom, and complaining about the ridiculous "password" procedures with which we are presently challenged.  Although it was intended as pure spoof, except-of course-for the existing "password" debacle, I found that my "letter to Mom" did alight upon the hearts of a few as much more serious than this old guy intended.  I was, in fact, reminded and advised that minds decades-or even generations younger than mine-can and will process the message in codes other than which intended.  To elucidate, you may want to refer to the offending blog penned February, 2016.

Now, for the current subject.  Results of the 2016 Presidential campaign and election.  It is obvious that multitudes are unhappy and disgruntled to say the least with the results of the campaign.  I would like to chip in with some generations old experience and remind everyone that :

        1. All that glitters is not gold

                   and

        2. No matter how great the storm, the world will not come to an end

We all should have faith in our form of government.  The Republic, and its balance of power, will prevail and we all will survive.  The people have spoken, even though through the questionable "electoral college" process, and the people will prevail.

Each one of us, from the youngest to the oldest, is and will be responsible for his own future.  Neither the government, nor any elected individual, will be responsible for our individual future success.

Let us not "agonize" over results of one electoral process.  It is one drop in an ocean of future that each one of us has.  Concentrate on our individual efforts and I believe that the "balance of power" will take care of the rest.

PROMISES, PROMISES AND GLOBAL WARMING

PROMISES, PROMISES and GLOBAL WARMING

My good friend and, incidentally, my long time dentist, Dr. Jim Fritsche, always advised me that he wanted to keep my teeth for as long as I lasted.  He never told me I would still be raking leaves this long.  This year has been a bumper crop as far as leaves go.  And, I think, as far as most things thriving on water and sunshine go.  I did think of having a yard sale on leaves, but someone, smarter than I, suggested the market would be flooded and prices suppressed so I abandoned that idea.

How many leaves are there on a Schwedler or Silver Maple, or perhaps on a Green Ash or Sweetgum?  Perhaps a Million, or even a Billion, or could it be a Trillion?  Oh, well, regardless, could it be possible that all those leaves, performing the miracle of "PHOTOSYNTHESIS" could have produced enough oxygen to partially offset the balance of offensive gases in the atmosphere and curtail the threat of "GLOBAL WARMING"?  If, so, perhaps all the blowing and raking and stuffing could have been worthwhile.

Thanks, Doc, for helping to keep my teeth this long, but you never did warn me about the leaves.  But perhaps the global warming thing will make up for it.  And, of course, this is not to be considered editorializing on Presidential positions.