Wonder why you do what you do?

Wonder why people do what they do?

Ever wonder if anyone thinks you’re a little weird?
Or maybe they think that’s just normal for you… so they don’t pay much attention anymore?

I hadn’t considered this relating to me.
I try hard to be normal.

But after reading my recent column about the fire that had been set early one morning at our suburban house many years ago, I began to see something interesting.
You see, my column is a form of therapy for me… by the time I can laugh about something and write about it… I’m pretty much OK.

Well, that column recalled my reaction to a newspaper report on the fire and how Paul was written up as the hero as “Schluter himself smelled smoke and put out the fire.” No mention of me and that I was the one who actually did it!

But what got me to thinking was the part I wrote about stomping out the fire on our front lawn clad only in my shorty pajamas. I kept yelling for Paul to throw me my robe and finally it came flying out and hit me. I put it on and went across the yards to where the firemen and neighbors were as they had just put out that fire which had more of a head start than ours.

What I got to pondering was, why did Paul go back to bed after throwing me my shorty robe?

Now consider this: your wife is on your front lawn on a suburban street on a Sunday morning yelling for you to throw her a robe. Burnt newspapers are strewn across the yard.
You were sleeping but you heard her calling and you respond by getting up, finding her robe and throwing it outside to her. And then you go back to bed. No questions asked.

This is normal?

Paul just grins as he recalls the episode. Maybe he was just sleepy or maybe he had stopped trying to figure out just why I do things. (It’s been 47 years of marriage now.)

Ya just gotta love the guy!

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Candelabra to the sky...

Maybe say a prayer...

A parade of woodland flowers...

Myriads of wild flowers grace the woodlands throughout the season.

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Our neighbors found a "Foundation Lily"

on their land

and this year it was discovered along our river trails.

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This lovely flower may go back

to the "roots" of the many lilies we see today.

Growing several feet high, we look up into its beauty.

And look forward to next year's progeny.

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What did it say in the newspaper?

The sound of fire engines came roaring past our bedroom window that warm sunny morning on the suburban street we lived. They were heading toward our neighbor’s house which had been set on fire by someone lighting the Sunday morning newspapers which had been tucked inside their front door. This apparently was part of a series of fires purposely set.

The sirens woke me up. I had just fallen asleep after taking our son on his morning paper route around 2 a.m.
I groggily got up and looking out the window I saw smoke and ran down to the front door. I pulled it open and that gave enough oxygen to these smoking papers to cause them to burst into flames.
But I saw where I could grab them and hauled them out onto the front lawn and got the fire out.
Only then did I realize that I was standing outside in my "shorty" pajamas! This was over 30 years ago and not part of the Desperate Housewives TV show.
So as I was getting the fire out, I kept yelling at my husband in the house to get me my robe – also short but it would add another layer anyway.
All of a sudden, my robe came flying and hit me and I put it on.

Then I walked across the yards to where the firemen and neighbors were standing after putting out that fire. I thanked them for waking me up because our house had also been set on fire.
The firemen dashed over to ours and set up fans to get any remaining smoke out.
Everything finally calmed down and the neighborhood went back to normal.

Until the newspaper came out a couple days later. I read about the fires and then went ballistic when the story explained something like, “Schluter himself smelled smoke and put out the fire.”
I gasped…"Schluter himself”?

I grabbed the paper to show “Schluter himself” and I eyeballed him and asked, “After you threw my robe out to me on the front lawn, where were you?”

Paul grinned, “I just went back to bed!”

My hero!
(At least in the newspaper!)

What if...

Ever wonder what difference your decision might make? It doesn't have to be good or bad. Just different.

Over 30 years ago Paul and I went looking for land. We found many places that were nice before we bought near Cannon Falls. For many reasons these properties didn't work for us and I have forgotten most of them.

But one site stayed in our minds.

Through the years we would drive by and watch as it changed. The house was made larger. Then a temple was built in front.

Recently a larger temple was built on the hillside behind it becoming the newest and largest Cambodian Buddhist temple in the United States. The Watt Munisotaram Temple is reported to cost $1.5 million and is 50 feet tall. It's located three miles west of Hampton, MN.

Their Open House led to our visit.

The temple is richly decorated with brilliant colors. Huge snakes or dragons decorate the railings and other carved creatures stand guard by the doors.

I had decided to change my usual attire of jeans and boots for a long dress just to show respect. (Though I had a concern about the appliquéd giraffes on my skirt and I hoped they were not a symbol of anything bad in their culture!)

When I got there I noticed that only a few women had long dresses on. A lot of the teenage girls were wearing short-shorts, in fact!

I had figured I might have to take off my shoes so I brought little socks to put on. But when I saw the nice carpet inside I knew it would feel good to walk on it barefoot. (I'm pretty sure that's not their reason!)

Orange robed monks mingled in the crowd appearing like a time warp to an ancient civilization. So it startled me when I heard a cell phone ring and saw a monk reach inside his robes to pull his phone out! (They have pockets in those things?)

The stairways and promenades outside the new temple were teeming with bustling Asian folk. At the far end I saw two taller Caucasian people who could be "tourists", like me.

And like one does in a "foreign country," I walked over and started a conversation with someone who looked like they were from "home.

"We talked about how some of the Cambodian refugees had located here and what struggles they had gone through leaving their homeland. And this "foreigner" brought to light another aspect of the relocating of Cambodians to the U.S.

He explained, They had been fighting for freedom... not to support the U.S. And by doing that, they had to leave their homeland. But they got freedom here.

He continued, although some of those refugees might still want to take back their homeland, if you ask some of their children and grandchildren who have been brought up here, you would find they rather think of the United States as their home.

Paul in the meantime had started talking to a Cambodian woman whom he later found out had worked at the same company he had.

Looks like we're all "home."

Mystery in the valley

There was nothing sinister about the beautiful valley that morning, basking in lovely warm sunshine… but the open door was suspicious.

I was alone as I picked up trash along the county road near our farm. The birds had been singing and only a few cars and trucks drove by.

As I walked past a little creek I heard a banging sound. Several times. I kept walking and listening… but then it stopped.
That was curious. There was a farm house near the road. It was for sale. And empty. The owners had already moved out.

I walked onto the property and followed the driveway to the house. No vehicles there. I checked both front and back doors which had those large locks hanging on them that realtors use.
Since everything looked OK, I went back to finish cleaning the roadside. I headed down another half mile and then back on the other side of the road. Finally I was finished.

Earlier I had parked my pickup truck near the barn of the empty farmhouse because the owners had said I could when I cleaned the road other times. As I looked past my truck I noticed that the door to their stable/riding arena was open. I thought for sure it had been closed when I had parked there.
This was suspicious because I had given the house the once over and decided no one was home.
Well, I had better check this out.

Now back up in time a bit.
I was wrong about there not being anyone at home. The owner had flown back from out of state on business. And although he was in the house, he hadn’t seen me walking about earlier.
But later he looked out the window and didn't recognize the pickup parked near his stable. He decided he had better check it out.

Keep in mind that he is also licensed to carry a gun.

So he is in the barn, checking it out when I come back from cleaning the roadsides.

I kept arguing in my head – was the door open before or closed ? Open or closed?

Just as I head for the door a man comes out!
You can imagine our surprise and relief as we recognized each other. Well, the guy was surprised but I was relieved!

I grinned… “You look first before you shoot, don’t you?”
He gave me a hug instead.

Lights in the darkened sky...

On a hill...

in the dark of the night...

look up and see

the brightly lit splatters of multi-colored crystals

exploding with exuberance...

And more appear...

So join mankind

in his delight of freedom

and the multitude of individual creations

that so pleasures his creator.

Sand castles - update

Update... a new sand castle has been added.

The old ruins have been kept...

(we worked hard on them too).

Designs were added using plastic knives and spoons and the handle of a plastic shovel.

Plus a corral for a horse... well, this castle is built with a western motif!

Maybe we'll add more turrets in the future.

It's raining now... we'll have to see if the river rises.

Maybe a moat will be added.