Finally Getting Published!?

Here’s some good news for you loyal readers staying tuned-in to this blog-spot. We’ve spent I don’t know how many months wading through literary agents, publishers, and publishing services to turn my collection of “Here and There-This and That” articles into book. And lo, a few weeks back Ruthie chanced upon a professional editor who, it turns out, has an excellent track record as one and who’s also an award-winning author. Headquartered only a few hours north of here, his services are not like some we’ve contacted before, these little more than bogus, money-grabbing hyenas over in some god-forsaken foreign land like LA, or Cleveland, or wherever.

So we’re excited to finally be getting somewhere with putting “Here and There” between covers and also creating it for Kindle, iBook/iPad, Nook, Kobo and a couple of other electronic readers. It would then be available for sale online at those various e-readers catalogues. When completed this epic masterpiece will be 200 pages, including 17-18 gray-scaled photos.

That’s it but hopefully there’ll be more to report in a few days!

Hi all and here's another one about our feathered friends. I sent it to the 'Rapids Tribune last week and it might appear in their Lake Country section this coming Friday (Feb. 6). Meantime you get to read it first. Enjoy.

Loving Our Feathered Friends

          Ever the bird watcher, Ruthie especially enjoys seeing the big, gorgeous-looking pileated woodpecker going after the suet in our feeder out back. Attached to a big oak, it has a wire-mesh cover to keep squirrels or raccoons from stealing it. This also stops the pileated itself, having a fierce appetite of its own, from pecking it up all at once.

Or it used to. Last week while out there looking at our feeder, Ruthie pulled off a piece of the old wood. “Dear, this poor thing has seen too many years. We need a new one.”

I groused, “Well, sweetie, your precious pileated hasn’t helped it any!” A month ago I had nailed up a piece of tin to cover a big hole it had made in back to more easily get the suet. Back then I’d thought-This’ll stop it.

Proving me wrong, that greedy thing had not only punched right through the tin, but had also pecked away more wood on top. This had loosened the nails holding down the mesh, allowing a raccoon, most likely, to fold it back. Then it had been come one-come all for everyone, the pileated, the raccoon, and the squirrels to get in and help themselves.

My bird-loving spouse was actually admiring. “You’ve got to admit, dear, my pileated is not only pretty but very creative!”

Discouraged, I shrugged, “Then why bother with a new feeder?”

“Because, Gilbert (That instead of Dear means uh-oh, I’m in trouble), they’ll peck on it instead of our siding!”

She was right. Tearing down our dilapidated feeder, I snatched up whatever scrap pieces of heavy-duty treated 2X8’s and tin I could find in our shop area, and went hard at it.

Hearing all the sawing, drilling, and banging around, Ruthie called down, “Good grief, dear, it sounds like you’re wrecking the place!”

All done, I yelled back, “Sorry! Anyway, I’ve put together the new one and just finished covering it with tin!”

“This I’ve got to see! Be right down!”

Soon as she was, I held it up proudly. “Probably used a little too much tin but other than that, how’s she look?”

Stifling a laugh she patted my shoulder. “Well, it looks more like an armored car than a feeder, but that’s good right?”

“It has to! Otherwise, your monster birdy will just peck it apart again!”

“Then let’s put it up! I’ll bring my camera!”

Minutes later Ruthie was holding my contraption up against the oak. Using my battery-powered driver to screw it into the trunk, I grunted, “Nope, no fooling around this time! This’ll show ‘em!”

We backed up and looked at my handiwork. Ruthie motioned with her camera. “Dear, stand next to it, OK?” I did. “Closer…that’s good! Now point at it with your electric drill-perfect! Ready?” I growled, “Yeah, but I’m hoping this feeder is. ‘Course, it’d probably hold up to Godzilla with all the metal on it!”

“Dear, it has more than our car, so it will! Even against my powerhouse pileated! Smile!” Click-click!

Sure enough, before long a smaller woodpecker was busily pecking up suet through the mesh. As we watched from inside, Ruthie was all smiles. “That little guy’s a ladder-back! See how happy you’ve made him!?”

“Fine but when your huge pal shows up, I want it to learn whose boss here!”

She snickered, “Uh-huh, and if it doesn’t?”

Finally lightening up, I threw up my hands and laughed, “I’ll leave it my County Market card and it can buy its own suet!”

Finally-finally back. Now that I've finished with fixing up the travel tales and humor columns, Ruthie is working through Create A Space to turn these into a book ASAP. Meantime here's a "turkey story" from this last Thanksgiving. It might also show up a couple of weeks from now in the Lakes Country section of the 'Rapids Tribune's Friday edition. Enjoy.

Are Turkeys Dumb? Or Not!

          This past year a large flock of turkeys has been visiting our back yard. And whenever they do, they definitely don’t act or even look like the brightest of our feathered friends. Then again, it’s taken them no time to learn that ready and waiting to be gobbled up beneath our pole-mounted feeder is a smorgasbord of seeds kicked down by the smaller (and smarter?) birds. So, how dumb is that?

          Anyhow, this last Thanksgiving we had two dinner guests, son Kevin and Ruthie’s friend Delores. Looking outside she exclaimed, “Ruthie, you’ve got lots of turkeys out there, you know that?”

My avid bird watcher nodded happily, “Yes and I like them! With their wings spread they’re actually pretty!”

An even more avid hunter, Kevin grinned, “They probably taste good too! Next time I’ll bring my bow!”

Both women got busy setting the table. Meantime, I noticed all those big, dopey-looking things just standing around under the feeder. In fact, looking anything but dumb, they seemed to be patiently waiting for more seeds to be kicked down. In any case they were out of luck, the feeder box was empty.

The instant I stepped outside with the seed bag, the turkeys ran off every which way. Squawking and nearly knocking each other down, they gave me a hilarious little show like circus clowns. It came right back, my original opinion-Nope, they’re dumb all right! Pouring in more seeds, I saw them re-grouping way over in our neighbor’s yard. Then I noticed a lone female standing much closer with one eye cocked my way. I wondered-She can’t be figuring this out. Can she?

I rejoined everyone at the dinner table. Ruthie had prepared roast turkey of course and we all dug in. Ready to take a bite, I saw Ruthie staring behind me. She whispered, “Dear, you won’t believe who’s watching us from our deck rail. All of you stay still ‘til I get my camera!” Sneaking off, she was back in seconds and aiming it over my shoulder. Click-click! “OK, everyone, turn real slow.”

We did and so help us, that female had flown up to the deck rail and was now watching our every move. Looking down at her plate, Delores laughed and shook her head, “Good as this is, I’m not about to eat it with her watching me!”

Kevin said, “Mom, she acts so tame that you guys should name her.”

That started a go-round; Tania? No, doesn’t sound right. Tessie? Nah, that’s a little girl’s name. How about Tallulah? Great! Hoisting our glasses, we toasted her still perched out on the rail and maybe Tallulah liked it too. Giving us one last look (I’m not making any of this up), she flew off and landed back at the feeder.

A couple weeks ago I went out to re-load it and yep, all the turkeys ran away, except guess who? Well, she also moved off but only a little ways and then watched me empty the seed bag. Finished, I had no sooner crossed our lower deck to the door when so help me, Tallulah was already back under the feeder.

As we watched from inside, Ruthie said, “Dear, next Thanksgiving how about roast pork instead?” Laughing, she added, “There aren’t any wild pigs around here, right?”

“Let’s hope not!” I said. And meant it. Even smarter than Tallulah and far less lovable, they can be crazy-mean. We sure don’t want our meal interrupted by one of those critters peeking in and throwing a fit.

 

 

Hi again and here’s one that’ll eventually appear in a Friday edition of the Wisconsin Rapids Tribune’s Lake Country section.

Smokey the Bear is Watching You!

          The many, many trees at our place are again showing off their glorious autumn golds and reds, which I enjoy as much as anyone. But I still cringe over my first October in Central Wisconsin. I had moved here from Chicago to marry Ruthie in June and now it was four months later.

My bride beside me in the yard, I stood staring at the leaves ankle deep all over the place. “Good grief, sweetie! We’ll need a million leaf bags!”

She laughed, “You poor mixed-up Illinois people. Up here, dear, we get to burn them.”

          I was instantly all smiles at the thought of inhaling the wonderful fragrance of burning leaves, something I hadn’t done in years down at that other place. By sunset we had finished raking and I pictured us soon seated before a cozy fire roasting marshmallows.

Ruthie interrupted my happy thought. “Isn’t your burn pile getting awfully large?”

           Thinking-Nah, she’s worrying about nothing-I waved her off. “I’ve laid out the garden hose and besides, there’s not a breath of air stirring!”

Except? Topping it off with some tinder-dry pine boughs, I had to admit that yeah it was a bit large, but? Supremely confident of my old Boy Scout skills, no big deal.

Lighting some leaves near the bottom, I warned, “Stand back, she might flare up a little!”

Moving back myself, I frowned as it barely burned. “Nuts-too slow!” Impatiently crumpling up some newspaper, I nodded, “This’ll speed it up.”

She waved a hand. “No-no, better not!”

Too late, the dry pine caught and-Whoomph!

I yelled happily, “What fun, I haven’t done this in ages!”

          Not listening, she was staring at the flames leaping higher…and higher. Meantime, so help me, a stiff breeze chose this very instant to kick in. Suddenly burning leaves were spiraling up and drifting merrily toward our neighbors’ woodlot chock-full of dry ones.

Chasing off to smack them down with a rake, she hollered, “Use the hose!”

          As leaping flames were about to turn a nearby pine into an eighty foot torch, I frantically twisted the nozzle and? Out came a measly trickle-low water pressure!

I’d at least had brains enough to clear a large circle around the fire pit and my raging inferno soon consumed itself down to embers. Keeping it that way, we never did get around to roasting those marshmallows.

          It’s gone better since we’ve become, as they say, green conscious. These days we rake some of the leaves protectively over her flower beds and my rows of winter-hardy turnips. Harvested later from under the snow they taste great, by the way. Other leaves either get mower-mulched or stay put ‘til we do it again in the spring.  

Ruthie still lets me have my bonfires, but watches every second so they stay small and then just to roast marshmallows with our grandkids. If I’m urged to see a really big fire, she says, “Fine, Gilbert! If it’ll make you happy, go rent “The Towering Inferno”, OK?”

Which it does, I suppose. Meantime, dear readers, I made up a little poem dedicated to any of us having to deal with leaves;

          When branches are bare

And leaves are lying everywhere,

          Raking is such a care!

          But don’t whine this isn’t fair!

          Merely mulch and lose that despair!

           And if burning is still your fare?

          Watch out for Smokey the Bear!

         

P.S. And if roasting marsh-mallows, don’t singe your hair!

 

 

Annnd...what the heck, here's another shot of our other niece, ten year-old Katie, taking us to the 8000-foot summit over Paulina Lake filling the Newberry volcanic caldera near Bend, Oregon.

 

Come on, Auntie Ruth and Uncle Gib! It's just a little farther to the top!

 

 

 

We're back from having a great two-weeks out west with family in Boulder, Seattle, and Bend, Oregon. While busily putting together our book "Here and There-This and That" for publication (hopefully before the holidays), we'll post photos and comments from this last trip (and earlier ones).  Enjoy.

 

 

Last week; niece Laura leading us up a trail starting-can you believe it?-at the west end of a street in Boulder.

 

 

 

 

This end of the trail is just above downtown Boulder. From there she's taking us to the Rio Grande Restaurant that serves the best Mexican food imaginable!