Adventure 278: Swamp Living/Post C

Pot O' Gold

Fifty-nine days until the marriage license expires. Not to worry. The feet are nowhere near cold for the about to be weds. In fact, they are so busy, their feet are sizzling! Today, the tasks at wedding central included a final meeting with the pastor, a longtime friend, who gave two thumbs up and a Praise the Lord to Scott and Kate. A few details, like the minute by minute happenings of the actual service were finalized. Scott and Kate also mapped out the all important seating arrangements at the reception, and right now they are drafting their vows.  For them, as Scott said this morning, "The vows are our promises to each other that will last for eternity and beyond. Now that's commitment! Despite another full day here at wedding central, there was time to enjoy blueberry pancakes for breakfast, expertly prepared by Scott (Maybe Kate is the lucky one; culinary skills in a mate are, after all, highly desired). Judy and I have once again enjoyed the privilege of sharing alone time with Kate and Scott, which is not to say we're not looking forward to the arrival of other members of our family. Beginning today, a steady stream of misty eyed relatives will arrive, and soon everyone will join in the celebration. Weddings truly are a time of joy. The bittersweet was present today as well. Scott, Kate, Judy, and I took a little time right after breakfast to ride our bicycles over to Jane's grave. While all of us wish the Lord had allowed her to be here with us, I'm sure in his graciousness, God did grant Jane permission to move to the edge of heaven so she could take a peek at the wedding proceedings. We could all feel her smiling as we stood beside her stone, and I'm positive she knows her youngest daughter is in capable hands. More than that we just trust in the mercy and love of our Savior. He has, after all, made the greatest promise of all. Which brings me to the wedding word of the day: PROMISE. What an exquisite notion. A wedding promise is not shallow like a politician's promise, nor empty like a salesman's promise, nor expedient like a fatigued parent's. In the perfect sense, a wedding promise is like communion where a blood is exchanged, smeared and mingled into each other's veins in a visceral way until two become one. I think I just heard someone in the audience mutter, "That's really heavy man." Yes, it is. The weight of true promise is heavy in the sense that a commitment that lasts through the thick and thin of shared life carries with it the burden of expectation, the challenge of misfortune, and the uncertainty of change. It's no easy task to keep a promise. Like the band Grateful Dead sings in their song 'New Speedway Boogie'--"I don't know, but I've been told it's hard to run with the weight of gold. On the other hand I've heard it said that it's just as hard with the weight of lead." This is true as far as I've experienced. Sweet or bittersweet a promise kept is a promise lived. And a lived promise makes life good, especially today.

              We promise to travel side by side.

             We promise to support.

         Until eternity and beyond.

Adventure 277: Swamp Living/Post B

Honey, That's Good Coffee!

Things are getting pretty serious here at wedding central. Today Miss Kate had her wedding dress fitted and the final hem put in place. This morning at breakfast, I asked her what importance, if any, she placed on her wedding dress to which she replied, "It's an external covering that represents an internal change, and even though I once thought the whole idea shallow, I realize lately that it makes me feel pretty. And besides, I want to look pretty for Scott. Kate's comments fit right in with tradition. In medieval times, a bride's dress represented not just herself, but also her family, especially her family's status. Over time, the dress expressed things other than just status. In the 1920s the idea of the white dress representing purity came about, and since then the style of the dress followed whatever current fashion dictated. I like Miss Kate's symbolism of as a right of passage.

  Besides the fitting, Scott and Kate also purchased their wedding license, which stays valid for sixty days. (Long enough, I suppose for cold feet to develop-not that I expect that to happen). Judy and I got to witness joyous event. All this preening and preparation reminded me of the mating habits of the Australian Bower Bird. In our Judeo-Christian culture, the man traditionally holds the position of power and leadership in a marriage, although I suspect modern marriages tend toward a more equal partnership (I know ours does). But in the bower bird world, the females hold all the cards. Competing males flit about the forest plucking flowers, attractive twigs, tufts of soft grass, and other ornaments in order to decorate their nests. The females fly around, lending a critical eye until they choose the guy with the best looking house. So maybe Kate's fears of shallowness is simply a fact of nature. I don't know, but I do know this: she and Scott possess a depth of obvious humanity, compassionate concern, and lasting love that goes far beyond any external manifestation  They have a depth to them that offers the rest of us inspiration. It's like Jack Nicholson's character (Melvin Udall) said to Helen Hunt's character (Carol Connelly) in the movie "As Good as it Gets". "You make me want to be a better man." Watching these two makes me want to be a better husband, father, grandfather, friend...the whole gamut. It's fun to see such serious young people so eager to commit themselves hopefully, faithfully, and lovingly to a new life together. It's easy for me to believe that life will be especially good in their "nest".

 Towering love starts right here at the Fulton County Courthouse.

 The dotted line: Things are starting to get serious!

Marriage is encouraged here in Ohio.

In our travels, people often help us. I like to recognize them as "The best humans of the day". In today's case, this lovely lady (Jo) gave Scott and me directions to the courthouse. (We had ridden our bikes over from Archbold because, of course, the groom is not allowed to see the dress beforehand). Anyway, Jo was on an errand to the bank with three pretty special humans of her own in tow: Oliver and Aiden, the four year old twins, and precocious little Quinn who I assume is a younger sister. My sense is that this little one wields a power akin to a female bower bird. Thanks, Jo, for a bright meeting and taking time to help us. 

Adventure 276: Swamp Living/Post A

My mother-in-law, Dorothy Friesen, was famous for the contents of her refrigerator. Who could tell what all was in there at any given time, but rumor has it that much of the contents had a long shelf life. Also true, is her daughters inherited the gene (Some call it taking care not to waste; others call the contents a science project. My dear wife has the gene; so does her sister, Karen; Jane had it and Kel keeps the tradition alive as well. I'm not sure about Arlene, but if I was a betting man, I'd bet on Science. My marriage question for the grand daughters (And grandson) of Dorothy is who controls the contents of the fridge. Last night, while talking to Scott and Kate, they said they had pre-engagement counseling where they answered 300 questions that exhausted most of the issues a married couple might face. As exhaustive as it may have been, I doubt seriously if the issue of growing greenness in the fridge was covered.  And while it's not likely to be a central issue, it does go to the idea of merging lifestyles. I trust that Scott and Kate will figure something out. Our day at the swamp began at church, where Kel, Kate, and Scott performed the offertory music. It was organically as good and as pure in spirit as Dorothy's frugal legacy, and there was nothing green about it. It was fresh and beautiful. I'm reminded of Dorothy's fridge because when we began laying out the lunch sandwhich buffet, Kate pulled seven or eight different kinds of mustard from the fridge, which she lined up in alphabetical order. We laughed, and I thought, What a great testament to the best part of marriage: building family. After lunch, we all took a walk around the swamp. Then the about to be weds spent some time making a to do list for the week. And since we could, we went for ice-cream at Homestead. For dinner, Kel made Chicken Biryani, and now I'm glued to the TV watching the NBA finals. It's one if the best parts of enjoying family. Everyone works together, yet each person is allowed personal space. These are the things that make life good, especially today.

A lunch buffet Dorothy would be proud of.

Rich, butter fat filled ice cream. Yum!

Chicken Biryani. Tough living in the Swamp.

Adventure 275: The Swamp: Wedding Central

Camping, Swamp Style.

The book of James (My favorite book in the Bible) opens, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." (James 1:2-3)

We had a joyful test, be it ever so small in the scheme of things, when we drove Fric and Frac through Chicago today. Even on Saturday morning, plenty of folks were out on the road: truckers, soccer moms, workers, other travelers like us, and even a few impatient speed merchants heading who knows where. Thankfully, we were blessed with traveling mercies, and even better, the heavy rain we encountered outside of Chicago letup as we skirted the city. Right now I'm  enjoying the tension knot in my neck along with its friend, the dull headache that the drive produced.  As a small town boy, I'm somewhat intimidated by big cities, which makes finding the joy more challenging. But joy is easy to find here in Archbold (The"Swamp"), otherwise known as wedding central. We've tucked Fric and Frac neatly in front of Kel's house (Owner and caretaker of the Swamp). We're anxiously awaiting the arrival of the soon to be weds (Scott and Kate). It will be a joyous meeting, which gets me to thinking about the joy of the actual wedding ceremony. Every couple decides what their wedding day will look like, and how it will feel. Some opt for traditional tones while others choose a more casual approach. Some people are married while sky diving, some on beaches, some behind home plate at their favorite ball park, some on top of mountains, and sure, a few choose  a church. Some write their own vows; others follow the time honored script. Whatever the choice, whatever the plan, I've got to believe the excitement, the anticipation, and the joyful celebration is born of the same spirit. I know that in my own "groom" moments, I was as jittery as an excited electron, and I couldn't wait to set the sparks flying. They started crackling the very moment I saw my bride walking toward me down the aisle. I've had two of these joyful moments (because you know I'm the luckiest guy on the planet). Anne, my first wife, who died of a brain aneurism in 1988, wore a full length white dress on our wedding day. It was made from her mother's wedding dress. She was radiant. I can still remember how it accentuated her long raven hair. Judy, my current love, was also gorgeous (I marry only beautiful women). She wore a soft pink gown that made her eyes shimmer like coral. In truth, both times I was the one shimmering, and shuddering. It makes me shiver now just to recall the moment. Here's hoping you oldly weds out there can remember the joy of your own wedding day. As for you about to be weds, bottle this joy. Tuck it away in your hearts. It will not only keep you warm, but it will remind you that life is good, especially on your wedding day.

After Chicago, we travelled through Amish country near Elkhart, Indiana. Only fools pass up a chance to eat their brand of comfort food.

Called a Small Manhattan, this is really just the best hot turkey sandwhich on white bread you can imagine.

Kelbabe, King of the Swamp, serving up fresh tortillas.

Art shot of the day: Swamp living.

The about to be weds: Scott and Kate: Surely, a reason for joy.

Adventure 274: Geneseo, ILL

Good Advice.

Another ride it hard and put it away wet day, but after 407 miles we're a day's drive from wedding central. Our day was joy filled, driving as we were in light traffic on good roads in fine weather. In keeping with our nowhere to go and all day to get there philosophy, we once again decided to eschew the interstate. For most of the day we drove the scenic route, following the Western Skies Scenic Byway (Hwy 44) across Iowa, which kept us rolling through farmlands until just past Grimes. The terrain reminded me of the Palouse back home with its twisting steep hills meandering like ribbons flowing from the back of a newlywed's dress. The hills are so steep, the farmers have created earthen terraces much like the tea fields in China. The farms, all well kept, have an eery anal quality. It's as if the farners don't have enough work to do, so each farm house has at least a half acre of perfectly manicured grass around it. In fact, it looks like a competition to see whose place looks best. The farms were similar to the neatness I saw when we traveled in Switzerland a few years back where every wood box was filled to the brim with perfectly split faggots of wood, each cut to an exact length. Our revery didn't last the whole day. We did have a couple hundred miles of "Big Dog" driving which kicked our speed up to near seventy, lest we be swept away in the wind wake of driver's commuting with more purpose. It made us long for the quieter, more bucolic scenery we had enjoyed earlier. The tension I feel when driving in heavy traffic reminds me of another good marriage word: CHERISH. Cherish every moment, which is easy enough when the skies are clear, the air is warm, the road is smooth, and the scenery is exquisite. Not quite as easily done, but equally important is to cherish the moments when things are more hectic, the roads more rough, and the scenery reduced to checking mirrors and distances. These are times when I so cherish my sidekick and navigator. She can read a map, a road sign, and she uses her I-phone like a google-wizard to reserve camp sites. Every pilot needs a competent co-pilot to maneuver safely through this complex world. Cherish the chance to trust each other. It makes life worth living. My co-pilot found us the best overnight spot yet. It's two hours outside Chicago, set in a wooded area in the midst of farmland. It's almost perfect. After setting up in this very pleasant RV park, we took a nice bike ride part way down the Hennepin Canal, which borders the campground. The canal is an 82 mile stretch of still water that was built in 1892. It has a series of locks and was used to move commerce until 1907. Today, the path provides a flat, easy bike/walking path for tourists like us. After it's commercial stint, the canal was free for recreational use until 1951 when the waterway was closed, and was named as part of the historical register. If not for the plethora of hungry midwestern insects and the liquid swampy air, this place would be perfect. Like I said, the hard part of life is to cherish equally the pleasant and the not so pleasant. But guess what the best part is? Who cares? A biting bug cannot compare to a cherished companion, and besides, we share this aluminum refuge, which keeps a whiney city boy like me free from the buzzing, biting, buggers, so life is good, especially today.

Iowans most certainly cherish the land.

They even manage to embrace the twists   and turns.

Selfie of the day. Ride on.

There are over forty locks along the canal.

Art shot of the day: A moment to cherish.

We don't need no stinkin' bug spray. We have an airconditioned Airstream! Now, that's pretty easy to cherish. Thank you, Lord.

Adventure 273: Columbus, NE

Nice Fairgrounds Campsite.

Despite being awakened at 4:30 AM by an unfamiliar buzz coming from the refrigerator, it was a fabulous day. I went outside under the azure light of a sliver moon, flashlight in hand to check the noise. It was coming from the fan, to which I delivered a Jack O'Brien styled "thwacker" (Which by the way represents the zenith of my mechanical expertise). My method worked-YAY! but the net effect was that sleep was no longer possible, so we hit the road a little before dawn. We traveled the entire 409 miles today on the Lincoln Highway (Route 30), which was built in 1913 and runs parallel to I-80 the whole way across the Cornhusker state. Many of the small Nebraska farm towns have seen better days, but a few are proud remainders of the best America has to offer. We're spending the night in one of them: Columbus, NE, which sits at the confluence of three rivers and boasts, among other things, the home of the Glur Tavern (Established 1876). It's the oldest continually operated tavern West of the Missouri River, and legend has it that Buffalo Bill Cody paid the bar tab of his troupe with a $1,000 dollar bill when they were in town attending the funeral of Major Frank North who managed the Native Americans in Cody's Wild West Show (For inspiration, Google e.e. cummings poem: Portrait). While Judy and I enjoyed a cold beer and a delectable burger, we decided that a good marriage can be distilled to a single word: SHARE.

Share the load; share the joy; share the journey; share the dream; share love; share pain; share the fear; share the blame; share the work; share sucess; share the struggle; share the laughs; share the tears, and always share the food, which at our house we call "Judy bites"- defined as Judy taking not one little bite, but two quite substantial chomps of whatever I'm eating. Be careful, this kind of sharing can lead to "bad fights", especially when your spouse says, "No, I don't want any...Gee, that looks good...and the other responding like a miffed pitbull protecting its food...the growl decoded as "Why didn't you get your own?" YIKES!! You see, soon to be weds, even the best of married life can be frought with peril!!! Always take care (Especially of each other), and above all share living, for life is good, especially today.

If it's good enough for Wild Bill, it's good enough for us.

Art shot of the day: Caught in Time.

Grass fed Nebraska beef; real fries!

Notice we are sharing the fries.

Share the love: Two of my favorite women. Happy Birthday, Libby!

Adventure 272: Cheyenne, WY

Rocking!

Our friend, Dinah Coble, related that she once spent a miserable night in Rock Springs in the early seventies. I can certainly understand since the mining town is as rough and tumble as ever, but they've been trying to improve. The city's movers and shakers wrote a grant which has made great strides to revitalize the down town. The events center where we parked over night has become a focal point for Wyoming events including professional rodeo  as well as hosting the Wyoming state high school rodeo championships. They even have an event in March called "Stop and Smell the Horses". The point is the community, which still mines coal and also supplies the world market with baking soda, is trying to improve. We've been here twice in as many years. Both stops have been brief, but pleasant. As we move eastward bee-lining toward wedding central, we were happy to have a comfortable stopping place. Tonight, we're fortunate to park in front of Tim and Carissa Ulmen's (Dave and Liz's oldest son and daughter-in-law) house. It's a nice respite.

  Now for a little marriage rambling, which Judy says is starting to sound preachy. Maybe so, but here it goes. It says right in the vows not to expect peaches and cream every day, which brings me to fighting. It's important to learn to fight well. Bad fights leave one or the other partner with hurt feelings. If partners have too many bad fights they end up in court. (Bad fighting includes the silent treatment-Always a no-no). As it is, newly weds face long odds. Of the roughly two million marriages that occur in America every year, 1 in 15 last ten years. Scary, if true, but we all know about damn lies and statistics; it's an election year, after all. So, take it with a grain of salt. Here are five rules I think could be considered as fighting fair. 1. No dead dogs allowed. This means it's out of bounds to bring up old mistakes, long gone examples of bad judgment, or embarrassingly grievous behavior. 2. Keep expectations realistic. The person you married isn't perfect. Expect less and get more. 3. Hold no grudges. Forgive and forget. Accept and love. Practice love rituals. Kiss often; snuggle more. Marriage is hard enough without carrying bags of regret around. 4. Think and say loving things.  There are no off days in a relationship. Loose lips can sink the ship. 5. Quit telling me what to do! In other words, there are no bosses in an equal partnership. Make the life decisions together, and if you can't, wait a day or two to talk it out.

 Here's the sermon. 

Take the time to honestly discuss each other's needs. Talking to each other Is sort of like wearing a belt and suspenders. Love  and commitment are the suspenders. Defining space for each other is the belt. If you can manage to support each other in the good times and the bad, then life will be good, practically every day.

Rock Springs has a nice walk of memory that celebrates the coal miners next to the refurbished train station.

Without the railroad, Wyoming would likely count antelopes, snakes, and jack rabbits as its residents.

We were welcomed to Banning Park by the lush fragrance of blooming lilacs.

Tim Ulmen, an accomplished wood artist made this piece.

It's called Ulmen Time because the drawer, like the Ulmens themselves, is just a little late to the party.