Dinner in the Field and other stories
I find you can discover your strengths at any age. For example, I find I’m a better writer than I am an editor. I have a full-length draft of a memoir that I’ve devoted countless hours to, and it’s finally finished. I’m anxious to move on to new material. But finishing the book is not the same as completing the project. Doing it right, I’m told, entails a less than...
Going Home
I lived on our farm three miles west of Danvers only eighteen years and some change, counting a college summer and a couple of emergency stays as an adult recovering from long trips. That eighteen year stretch began when I came home from the hospital as a baby and lasted until I moved into a dorm at ISU. And it was a very solid stretch. As a family we went...
Farm Dogs
If dogs run free, why not we? Bob Dylan 1970 From the album “New Morning” Farm dogs, at least those I knew and loved in the 1950’s and 60’s, led radically different lives than dogs today, their relationship to humans being then very different. Farm dogs were free. They led their own lives parallel to ours, and we controlled them little. Farm dogs took charge of their lives each day...
Talking to My Dog
I knew I had written something about Ally, my dog who was recently and mercifully killed, but I couldn’t find it. I’ve written lots of things I didn’t know what to do with and where I put them is anybody’s guess. I finally found it in this blog. There are seventy (70) posts now on Dave in the Shack, although I know the old ones rarely appear on your screen....
Our Dog Died
Our dog died. No, that’s not quite true. I arranged for my dog to be killed. I know we prefer to say “we had to have our dog put down.” Or some people characterize the act as “we had to have our dog put to sleep.” While both of those are true I have always preferred the simple truth. It was a mercy killing, and she was killed by lethal...
No Thank You
Nursing homes have changed. Despite my good intentions of visiting old friends stacked away in what I pictured as sad institutions, I haven’t made it past the lobby and into a nursing home resident’s room in twenty years. In my mind nursing homes were like the one I worked at in the seventies. A long yellow brick building stretched parallel to the street, three floors and a basement housing the...
This post interrupted by an urgent message
Hustling Hoppers There are eighteen 4-H clubs in LaSalle County. You have your Pouncing Panthers, South Prairie Pioneers, Pacesetters, Leland Ribbon Winners, North Prairie Kids, Fox River Warriors, Dimmick Braves, Covel Creek Rough Riders, Brookfield Indians and my favorite, the Hustling Hoppers. The Hustling Hoppers must have chosen their name when being known as a hustler meant you worked hard and quickly. I don’t know what the hopping is about....
Judging at the 4-H Fair
As it turned out I didn’t judge biscuits at the 4-H Fair after all. I had a different assignment-sponge cake, pie crusts, Focaccia bread (be careful how you say that) and dark German rye bread. Six of us were judging baked goods; five women and me. Like last year I was teamed up with Carol Elmore, retired Home Economics teacher from Mendota. I was glad to see her. She knows...
The Week in Review
Some weeks fly by and some weeks crawl. My 4-H Fair judging packet came in the mail. I’m not sure how I became a 4-H Fair judge. They’ve assigned me once again to judge baked goods. I have to say, in all modesty, that while I’m no expert in the baking process I feel more than qualified to judge baked goods. I don’t think I’ve turned down anything baked in...
Vision is a Precious Thing
“Hey Dave, would you mind if Ben looks at your corneas?” “No. Of course not.” I saw Ben as I was coming into the Ortiz Eye clinic. He was going around to the back, texting as he walked, while I was coming in the front. Ben’s tall. He’s a basketball player who just finished his freshman year in college. Ben is Tim Ortiz’s son. Tim is my eye doctor. “I’ll...
Reader Feedback
I got out of the shack in a fairly big way this past week. I attended the celebration of fifty years of hard work by the Child Care Association of Illinois, staying in the city for a couple of nights. Over the weekend I went to the Flaherty family reunion in Dimmick Township. Flaherty was my wife Colleen’s maiden name. I wasn’t used to seeing all those people at either...