Dear Santa, Past and Present

             Children have been writing letters to Santa for a long time. The system must be one that has helped both Santa and parents. Just knowing what is desired by the young, helps to know what to put in Santa's pack.

            Many of the current letters ask for at least one electronic item. Often the whole message is about ipods and MP3 players, Smartphones and specific electronic games and devices.

            Looking over Dear Santa letters in the archives of my local newpaper ,the children of fifty years ago had quite different toys  mentioned on many requests: Sonic Blaster, Rocker Socker Robot, 5 speed racing bike with handle brakes, Walkie Talkie, Johnny Eagle Army gun, Ruthie doll, Baby First Step, a musical train, roller skates, Penny Bright doll, Barbie Dream House, Suzy Bake Oven. Some letters weren't so particular in the brands and asked for a sled or a basketball. Most made mention that they would leave a snack for the bearded gentleman, usually cookies. Some even said “Thank You” for the gifts of Christmas past.

             The letters from 1916, one hundred years ago, give us a picture of not only an earlier time, but with expressions of what was needed more than what was wanted. Here are some samples: a horse with wheels, a pocket knife, a pair of skates, baby doll, little wagon, nuts and candy, a baby buggy for a doll already in hand, a big top. One young lady asked for a “muff and fur.” The child or today would have no idea what a muff even is. The fur would keep her neck warm, the muff was cylindrical, made of warm fabric and held in front, a hand thrust into each open side, to keep the hands toasty. The requests of a century back that touched this writer the most were those of overshoes, mittens, an orange, and good things to eat. Many families were struggling for survival in the early 1900's.

            The passage of time shows that some things remain the same. Prosperity over poverty is indicated. The holiday, the wish for celebration is still strong.  It is still a time for hope, for kindness, for thinking of others beyond self.  The magic that comes with the season is still intact. The technology of today has everyone in its grip. Letters are still being written, even though the children of even 25 years ago could not have even imagined the items that are now on the lists of the average youngster of 2016.

Remember, oh remember

Today is the "evening before" historically, one of those dates that changed the entire world forever.
            I have wondered what was going through the military minds of the Janpanese generals, all who were involved in their decision to attack the United States the next morning.  Did they sleep well?  Were they excited about the prospects?
           A quote from one of my favorite history texts. "The United States was plunged into the inferno of WWII with the most stupefying and humiliating military defeat in its history.  In the dismal months that ensued, the democratic world teetered on the raw edge of disaster .....The Japanese fanatics forgot that when one stabs a king, one must stab to kill.."   Now, as I study history and read from publications dated in 1940, 1941, I realize that Japan was sending ambassadors to the US at this time who were  throwing up a blind in Washington as they talked about how peace-seeking they were, claiming to be no threat as the European Front raged on.
             I can't claim to remember the radio broadcast that announced this deed to the world at large on Dec 7, 1941. At that time my home was a ranch in the middle of Wyoming, with no electricity, no radio to bring the news. But I do remember young men that I loved being drafted into the US Army.
            By the end of the war I was a very little girl, in a small coal-mining town in Wyoming.  
 I do remember having blackouts, blinds pulled tight around the windows, all street lights darkened and hearing the drone of plane motors during the black of  night. It was confusing, why would a little place in the middle of nowhere be of interest in this big war?  Years later I realized that the very ground I walked on would have quite a bit of value in a war, the coal providing energy for the very things that are needed to battle.
             The Japanese families that lived in our community were soon moved to another area.  Because they were genetically connected to the enemy our government feared they might act as saboteurs in case of invasion. I didn't understand that either.  But times were changing, and there is often no control over changes that come our way.  I didn't have to understand.  My grandfather wouldn't be able to go over to his pals for a glass of Sake any more.   There were no more oranges placed on the graves of the Japanese ancestors  on Memorial Day,  It was a situation that one accepted, whether one liked it or not.  It proved to be unnecessary and the records show that the Japanese-Americans had a high degree of loyalty to their new country.  Their combat record was excellent, particularly those in Hawaii.
          We lived with things like rationing of sugar, hard paper discs that acted as money in some cases, but it didn't feel or sound like money.  I think they were called tokens.  Women entered the armed forces as they never had before.  Although the need for nurses was still huge, women  filled all sorts of jobs as WACS, WAVES, Marines and SPARS.
          Those stars in the windows of homes with a fighting man sent a multitude of messages.  One was that their soldier had given his life for the cause.  It was a time laced with occasional victories, it was a time laced with much sadness. 
            No war can be pretty, no war can be simple.WWII had some dates engraved on the minds of those that lived through it.  Those dates can serve to cause us to reflect and to be grateful for the world we now have. The outcome could have been different.  I hope to remember, to share the memories with those I hold dear.  The need for awareness in every present.  History should not be erased as time goes on,  there are too many important lessons that the world needs

The Darkness of Black Friday, 2016

          For weeks I have been getting alerts to the big Black Friday stuff soon to be upon us. On-line, off-line, all types of businesses. Come, buy, big sales, BIG SALES. Fun. Fun? It holds no appeal to me whatsoever. Never has! Is there something wrong with my inner self?

          I have a grandson who was employed by the Target stores. One year he was assigned to open the doors and he described a horrible experience. How rude, how uncaring for others, the throng of people outside waiting, charging forward like a growling monster, fed by avarice.

           Friends who do the Black Friday thing tell me of sane humans snatching a desired purchase out of the hands of someone who was able to claim it before they did. Gone was any feeling of politeness or kindness. It all seems to be, “ I will get what I want, in spite of all resistance----whether that resistance comes from a store employee trying to have some semblance of order or another customer who is seeking the same purchase.

          Black is the correct color to describe this day I think. Solid Black! Evidently the original marketers of this craze felt it was appropriate as well. Darkness has always been associated with the lower regions for centuries. It is associated with the worst characteristics of the human race. Anger, greed, name calling, meanness, cheating, etc.  With all the clamor comes shouting, pushing, shoving, in-your-face attitude. Nope, just not my style.

          After the Day there are reports across the nation of injuries, violence in the store aisles, at the cash registers. People have even been trampled to the point of hospitalization. What happens to the civilized mind that has been taught rules of decent behavior?

          I love people. Friends have described me as a 'people person.' But I don't want them in crowds of grasping, greedy, me-first, me-only quantities. To some this day is considered fun, but not in my imagination. They make plans to be there in the wee hours as the doors swing open and the trampling parade rushes through the entry. Any person standing in their way may be knocked down and stepped on. This sounds like a nightmare, particularly in the opening hours. Later in the day, hours later, when the prices are not so good, but still perhaps somewhat discounted, that might have some attraction. The crowds hopefully would have dissipated and a degree of sanity resumed.

           I don't even look at the advertising, because I know I am not going.  These is not even a temptation. Enough said. I know I am not alone in my feelings, the grocery cashier today expressed her distaste for this same event.  An instant bonding. Lol

Aging Pumpkins and Me

         I thought about calling this little tidbit Halloween Leftovers, but I think the Aging Pumpkin is a better fit.

         This year my jack-o-lantern had a pretty simple face. Just not in the mood for some exotic carving, although I thoroughly enjoyed the creativity exhibited by some of my fell carvers.

Mine had verticle oval eyes, with some eyelash affect in the corner, a curved up and down mouth, rather like the curves on the normal human face. I declined from giving it an open nose, somehow the vertical lines on the pumpkin's skin gave the feeling of the strip of nose at just the right place. This was unintentional but came to mind as I was wondering about the nose. Then I added a widow's peak at the proper place on the rim before placing the lid on top.  All done, I liked it, it shed the right amount of light when I lit the candle placed inside.

        The pumpkin decorated my kitchen cabinet for several days before it started to age. The eyes still looked out, but the lashes became crow's feet. The lovely curl of the lips, pulled inward and took on a rather shrunken appearance. That widow's peak was still in place, still serving as an accent, but it too was turning inward. There were wrinkles up and down the nose as it caved inward. But when I lit the candle it still shown, just a slightly puckered expression.

         Crazy mind that I have, as you may have noticed if you read things I write, I started seeing the aging of all of us in this carved jack-o-lantern. When I look in the mirror these days I see my own crow's feet, my mouth taking on a shape that I had not intended. The lines are turning into deeper and deeper wrinkles, as expected. The widow's peak is a swirl of shining white hair.

         However, the light in my pumpkin still shines, the face still smiles. I hope that my light still shines too, that my smile stays in place, even though not as full and plump as it was in years past. I hope the twinkle in my eyes tells people that this is still me, here, within the changing face.

kit or caboodle?

What do I post for this  entry?   Should I change the name of the blog---it is a bit confusing to the modern mind most likely.  I have batted around a dozen names for this blog, wondering if I was biting off more than I could, or should, chew.  The idea appealed, then waned as my self-doubts set in.  They have a way of doing that, don't they?  Like snakes doubt slithers into a person's consciousness, insidiously, then  curl and wait to make their strike on a person's emotional, inner self.  Unless a person is firmly situated that strike takes its toll.
          At the beginning  this blog was an exciting goal, but as time went by I was filled with those  negative thoughts---"What on earth do I think I am doing?  I am not able to write enough to hold people's interest in a blog!  Who would want to read the ramblings of my brain?"   Then I had a "friend" who verbally questioned my writing abilities, so that inserted another negative wedge to the idea.
         I am always thinking of things to write.  Sometimes it is about my way of life(a farm wife), or grandmothering, or the turkeys that cross the road,  qualities of people that I love, or maybe not so much.  On and on, that is the way my mind works.  The best ideas come when I am "empty-headed," the mental me not in gear.  I already keep a journal, so this effort won't qualify as that.  It will be just stuff that pops up, out of my whole "kit and kanoodle."
           I nearly decided this was a bad idea, and then my closest fans ( my children) encouraged sufficiently and put me back on the track.  Since this started as a read by invitation type blog I know I will be encircled by friendly people.  However, I am not sure just who to invite.  I do want your comments and please don't think it is necessary to be praiseworthy.  At least four of you are English teachers, retired or active, but I know you won't have that red pencil poised in hand.  For that I thank you.  Some of you enjoy writing yourself and I love reading what you write.  I hope you will feel the same about this.  And so, here I am.
              Now I am wondering if I posted this, or something similar, earlier.  So goes the aging brain.

A farmer/rancher's Spring

Can't believe it has been so long since I blogged on this site.  I have had plenty of blogging thoughts going around in my head, just never took the time to post.  This is where I would truly like to write and share, but it seems I am writing everywhere else:  newspaper, genealogy, class stories, family epistles, Letter to shut-in friends...  Oh well, for you few who read it I hope you enjoy this one.

Spring in the Agricultural World.      By Claudia Erickson, a farm wife.

           In this part of the nation the earth has had a rest during our cold months. When the ground starts to warm, the snow has melted and sunny days happen with more frequency the person who has chosen agriculture as his way of life always goes through an annual time of reawakening himself.

           Since the calendar was flipped to March the man who loves the land has likely been making the rounds at the auction circuit. There is a lot of speculating and planning that goes on at these various sites. Some auctions are due to a farm being sold, lock,stock and barrel, with an estate from the death of the owner. For a farmer who is just too tired to take on the task any longer everything goes: lots of equipment, tractors, pickups, office supplies for the farm business right on down to the household items like kitchen furniture and bookcases, Sometimes there is a feeling of sadness that goes with the sale. Other auctions might be a collection of farm necessities: equipment, tools, supplies that may be someone's surplus and another person's need. Pallets of nuts and bolts, twine, yard tools, the list goes on, often with surprising items. It can be very entertaining when the auctioneer gets up on the block to make a sale. Then it is,” going, going, gone.”

          This is the time of year for new birth, lambs, calves, little porkers, all with the plan of as much time as possible to gain in weight and health looking to the day the critters go to market. When the spring weather is cold it hampers both the owner of livestock and the animals. Even with the protection of a shed lambing and calving operations are doubly hard in sub-zero temperatures. The farmer becomes an around-the-clock midwife to the mothers in his herd.

           The list of things to be accomplished crowd the owner's brain as though he had been a computer gone from shut down to,”good morning, world.” Any machinery or tractor still needing a checkup after the winter are brought into the workshops and given a thorough going-over. Parts are ordered and the repair shops hum with activity, whether the place is at an implement dealers or the farmer's own workshop. Repair and maintenance, these are so important to an operating ranch/farm.

           Cultivating the fields includes a multitude of strategies. Harrows level and clean up the sleeping winter fields. It is time for spring plowing, for attempting to get the eternal crop of rocks removed from the cultivated land. Decisions are made about planting, which seeds and which fields. There is an urgent effort to get the seeds drilled into the earth so that the spring rains can give them the extra boost needed for a good start before irrigation sets in. And then begins the never-ending war on weeds. Not to be outdone, the weed population loves a good headstart and the landowner knows it is another season of finding the best way to deal with that ever-present challenge.

             Much of this revolves around the promise of water available for the coming growing season. The local water boards have their meetings and plan for cleaning out the canals and ditches that bring the water close to the land. The plans need to be put into action before the greening growth becomes an impediment to the flow of that source for all life, water.

             The sun gets up earlier, and earlier, and so does the person who counts himself fortunate to have chosen this way of life and all the joys that come from living it.