Wolf Creek Antiques on Broadway in Goreville

Getting to spend time in Goreville always makes me happy. I can drive up and down the streets there and feel emotions I cannot experience anywhere else in the universe.

When I drive or walk on Broadway, I can see the former building of the Baptist church and instantly feel the sleepy-warm heat of a summer day during sermon time with the drone of a fan overhead. I can remember Mrs. Green teaching our Sunday School class up in the choir loft during the summer months we spent at Mt. Joy Farm. And I can remember being jealous of her daughter Evelyn, who was my age and played the piano so well. And I think I remember my sister reminding me it was because Evelyn practiced more than me--which would not have to be very much to have outdone my practice time. Later in Marion, I became reacquainted with Evelyn at the ball park where our sons played ball, and where she was now Evelyn Malcolm of Pittsburg. Then I was saddened in recent years by her passing.

I can remember being one of the "flower girls" at my grandmother's funeral as I asked to be. In those days, girls carried in and out the beautiful flower arrangements for the church house during the funeral service. I knew I was considered too young to be one of the flower girls, but since I wanted to be, the adults talked it over and allowed it. My grandmother's casket had had been brought down to the church house from her home there on Broadway.

I can remember at an earlier time being disappointed when I thought Grandma had made a yellow cake for dessert, and it turned out to be cornbread. I can remember loving to sleep in her feather bed on the old-fashioned fold-up bed--a large upright piece of furniture. I felt cozy and secure knowing if the roof leaked my head was protected under the top of that fold-out bed. I remember loving to look at the many trinkets in her trinket case (now in my front hall). And I loved playing with the collection of broken jewelry and "pretties" she saved for me to play with. I can remember sitting on her porch with my cousin Jack, whom I adored, when he was down from Detroit. I liked knowing my grandmother knew everyone on the street and so did my daddy. When we sat on the porch in the evening, I liked hearing Myrtie Dennison's wonderful laugh from the corner brick house and knowing that everyone on the street heard it too.

When I go down the narrow little street parallel to Broadway, I can imagine my grandmother's lovely rock and flower garden behind the tiny house where she used to live before the house on Broadway. And I can remember sitting on the porch swing of the corner house there on that street and Collins--visiting on a hot summer day with some friend of my grandmother. Since my grandmother died when I was six and had already moved to the house up on Broadway by then, I have no idea how young I may have been when she lived in that little house. But I know I must have felt a great deal of love to be able to feel so much of it yet just by driving down that street.

I can also remember the Fourth of July excitement on that very street when it was roped off and there were horse races there. And there were sack races and greased pig races in town too. And out at the farm later we would have an entire wooden case (24 bottles) of soda pop--a rare treat befitting such an important holiday.

I can remember having to wait once for Daddy at Fluck's grocery store up on Broadway for some reason. I felt awkward and out-of-place among men gathered there. Uncle Charley was there and bought me a soda out of the icy-cold water in the red storage case.

And I remember my dignified mother sitting on the little built-in metal seat on the front of General Vaughn's store, and I think sometimes people were sitting there on feed sacks--everyone enjoying the chance to visit and socialize while they were in town for Saturday afternoon shopping after they had sold their eggs and cream at the back of the store.

I cannot go to Goreville without being flooded with such memories. But I wasn't in town to reminince. I was in town to autograph books at a signing at Wolf Creek Antiques. What a beautiful venue! Booth after booth, upstairs and down, of lovely furniture, dishes, and objects from yesteryear. So I was unable to help myself from making more trips down memory lane even inside. And with each cousin or loved one who came in to get a book, another wave of emotion and love for Goreville enveloped me. And Dixie and Jim Terry were there to hear me read from my book even though they had a half a dozen other events to attend that day.

After a wonderful day, Glen Billingsley came in at the last minute--said he had been fishing and almost forgotten--but there he was. What a thrill to see an old friend of my father's, who down through the years has become my friend too. (Actually we are distantly related since two of the Billingsley daughters several generations back married Hugh Craig, and the second sister and wife became the mother of my great grandmother Louisa Jane Craig Martin.) Among other things Glen has done for me was sending me the papers proving I had a horse thief for one of my ancestors. Sometimes friends give us more than we ask for.

What a warm atmosphere Anna Scheidt has created at Wolf Creek with family and friends coming and going, visiting, and telling stories--just like the men and women used to do sitting on those feed sacks in front of General Vaughn's store. How I enjoyed meeting her mother, Mary, and thinking how fine it was for someone born in Brooklyn to fit in so very well with the friendly family-minded folk of Goreville.

After Glow from Sturgis Signing

Saturday was a fun day -- one that pushed me a trifle out of my comfort zone. I grew up a little bit that day. (And I met a wonderful senior citizen role model Ethel Tucker whose book From Pilot Knob to Main Street would inspire everyone that they can still write the book that they want to write. She was so beautiful and charming that I found myself hoping someday I can be even a little like her when I am in my eighties.)

I really did not want to drive to Sturgis by myself although my husband and everyone said it would be easy. And it was. Gerald printed me directions from his trip maker and also drew me a little map, which was very helpful. I had already looked Sturgis up in the atlas and had it laid out to take in case I got lost. Which was really silly cause the way was so simple.

Somehow I had heard of Sturgis, KY, many times, so I assumed it was a larger town than it was. It was my size town, and the scenery in Kentucky driving there was so beautiful. And a high percentage of the people there must be book lovers. I could not believe the wonderful foot traffic as people came all day long to buy books from the more than a hundred authors sitting at tables prepared for us.

The early morning drive was somewhat difficult because of heavy fog and a bright rising sun shining through it--especially at Shawneetown as I approached the bridge. I am always a little spooked about driving over bridges, but the fog was not that heavy on the bridge. I was sort of proud of myself that I arrived plenty early while a very young man said he arrived late because of the heavy fog coming down from Evansville. I just felt real competant and grown up that I had driven by myself although I still regretted that because of her surgery Lois Barrett had not been able to make it with her When the Earthquake Spoke. Of course, this was a rural drive, and I am a very experienced rural driver. It is city driving that is difficult for me--I can't read and process the signs quickly enough to be comfortable, and Gerald's directions to just "read and follow the signs" does not help me a whit.

I promised myself I would not buy any books, because I knew I would be at risk surrounded by all those authors and their books. I did really good too. I could not resist my tablemate's historical novel when I found out it was about her fourth great grandfather, who was one of George Rogers Clark's 75 men who made the "impossible" expedition through overflowing swampland across Southern Illinois during the Revolutionary War. I have already read A River Away with great fascination. I finished it at 1 a.m. Tuesday morning. Marilyn Dungan's five years of research stored in four file drawers was obvious and made this novel's look at history especially meaningful. I wanted to buy Marilyn's latest book about her son a Kentucky veterinarian, but I resisted.

I was pleased to meet David and Lalie Dick, who have done so much writing about Kentucky. Although I hung around their table as briefly as possible for fear of buying more books, there was no way I could resist David's beautiful hardcover that was a biography of Jesse Stuart. Seeing the dedication to Naomi Deane and the youthful photo on Jesse on the cover, I am looking at it longingly and with great anticipation. Is anything greater than having a special book that you want to read all ready and waiting just for you?

When I stopped at the post office in Sturgis to find out where the convention center was, I saw another person inside and I was able to guess he was there for the same purpose I was. So I did not even have to go inside. I just asked for his directions. That author turned out to be Lee Martin, whose Turning Bones flyer was given to me some years ago by Gerald's librarian sister Ernestine. I have meant to order it all these years--it is in one of the genealogy piles of paper in my office. I did get the opportunity to ask him where his Martins came from, and found out they came from Pennsylvania and not Bedford County, Tennesee, so I guess we aren't related. (Or at least it would have to be even several more generations back if some of our southern Martins did happen to come down from Pennsylvania, which is a possibility I have heard mentioned.)

One of the delights of the Western Kentucky Book Expo for me was meeting several Illinois people, who had also ventured across that Shawneetown bridge through the fog: Mary Jo Oldham Morgan and husband Larry Morgan, the librarians from Harrisburg who were wearing "I am reading Silas House" buttons advertising their book promotions going on in Harrisburg, and many others whose names I failed to remember. Larry, who shares my alma mater Anna-Jonesboro High, had once hauled anhydrous to our farm for Gerald back when he had worked for Winfred Brown, and we had numerous connections of area people and places. Mary Jo had seen my book and sent him over to look at it as she thought he would be interested, and I was so pleased to autograph it for him. (Isn't it strange how the mention of a long-ago hometown friend, such as Winfred Brown, so warms the cockles of one's heart!)

The Harrisburg group had also had Lee Martin recently as one of their featured writers. I went up to his table a couple of times, but he was so popular that I could never find him unoccupied with fans and I did not want to interupt. That is for the best, cause I might have had to buy a third book.

Cousin Douglas Martin on his way to William Jewell

Because he was invited to William Jewell College this weekend to participate in the induction of his father, Homer Martin, into the college's Athletic Hall of Fame, my cousin Doug used the trip from his home in California to come here first for a visit with his family before going onto the Kansas City area.

Uncle Homer had gone to William Jewell in the 1920s to finish his college and attend the nearby seminary to prepare for a preaching career. (It was at Leeds Baptist Church, that Uncle Homer went to work at the automobile factory and, thus, became involved in the union cause.) While at the college, he continued his hop, skip, and jump career also, and his school record of 47'4" still stands. Doug explained that though his father rarely, if ever, talked about his jumping career, he saw Uncle Homer jump the entire width of their back yard once. Doug also explained that the current triple jump replaced the old hop, skip, and jump in which the jumper stopped between each of those steps. I have always loved Daddy's story about their boyhood when the Martin boys would practice their hop, skip, and jump during the time they allowed the horses and mules to rest while they were plowing on their family farm.

After camping on the way here and stopping at Amarillo to see my sister and brother-in-law Rosemary and Phil, Doug camped at Ferne Clyffe last Friday night before coming to Woodsong on Saturday morning. He returned to his campsite that evening, but the rain and colder weather made him agreeable to occupy our waiting guest room on Sunday. So we did a lot of talking about family history, his three sons and wife Vera, books, his writing career, and religion. On Monday he returned to Ferne Clyffe to dismantle his tent since it was too wet the night before. On Wednesday our cousin Dick Stanley took him over the usual Johnson County sites that our family holds dear plus some new ones, and on Thursday Doug visited our cousins Dave and Norma Martin, and David took him down to the Cache River bottoms. On the boardwalk there looking over the swamp, he had the excitement of seeing a water moccasin within near range of his shoe. And he was proud to take a photo to be able show the California folk. Enjoying the outdoors and being pleased with a snake story to tell is definitely part of our family heritage.

Tomorrow I must get up early and drive down to spend the day at the Western Kentucky Book Expo in Sturgis, KY. I was invited to go with Lois Barrett, author of When the Earthquakes Spoke, and I am saddened to have to go by myself while Lois recovers from serious surgery. But by Christmas, we expect her to be going full force once more, and I am hoping this time off will give her an impetus to finish that sequel she is working on.

I've just enjoyed a slide show of Gerald's beautiful photos taken at South Dakota, where Gerry is to lease a pheasant hunting preserve in 2006 and then also Gerald's last weekend photos of son-in-law Brian's landscaping at their new home. When they had barely moved-in, a landscape man came to their door telling Mary Ellen how bad their lawn looked and he wanted the job of fixing it. She assured him that if he would come back in a few months, Brian would have a great looking lawn. The photos prove her confidence was well founded.

Gerald gets to go back to Lake Saint Louis this weekend to see the only pre-season fall games of Gerry's 18-and-under softball team for 2006. Last weekend he saw the second tourney of the new 14-and-under team that Geri Ann plays on. We had taken Lois and Tom down to Joelton, TN, the Saturday before that to see the team play together for the first time. By now, many of the girls are also caught up in volleyball and basketball school teams. So this is the end until the real softball season starts in the spring.

October Glories and Memories

Pumpkins from Gerald’s garden sit on our patio interspersed with orange mums. We can enjoy them looking out the family room window. I have gotten out the “autumn box” stored away in our tornado shelter since last fall. Now our little raggedy fall doll is hanging on the front porch again saying, “Welcome.”

I wanted the farm to reflect the season because we have friends here from California for a high school reunion. Fall is my favorite season. (I say the same thing about spring. And in both seasons, I believe at the time I am telling the truth.) The changing of the seasons is one of the reasons I chose to live my adult life here in Southern Illinois in this beautiful land between the rivers. We thought that the trees would be at their most glorious when Lois and Tom came. They had planned a tour of the East by train to see the leaves of New England before arriving here.

Unfortunately, the leaves turning in the East were delayed this year. And now our coloration is just beginning instead of being at its peak.

Fortunately despite the late fall season, what we do have that the East did not are childhood memories. Growing up in Union County on a farm until her father’s much too early death brought her family into town, Lois cherishes every location, person, and event stored in her memory of her homeland. She has lived in California since 1951 and had a successful and pleasant life there. But she still reads the Anna Gazette-Democrat looking for news about those of us she left behind.

I am one of the lucky recipients of her Gazette reading. Every once in awhile I get a fat envelope full of goodies--news about Glasco or Martin family members that Lois knows I can use in family scrapbooks and family history research. I suspect I am one of the few housewives of our area who has her own personal clipping service.

Lois and I are in constant email contact--sometimes passing back and forth two or three emails a day. With her planning all the details of their elaborate autumn tour, her writing slowed down this summer. And with our daughter’s family temporarily living with us while they remodel their home, I have also slowed down on my computer time. But we still share our lives and our children’s lives with each other frequently. I thrill to her daughter’s and granddaughter’s theatrical successes, and pass them on to my theatrical grandchildren. Lois hears about their performances in Freeport and also our softball games. I knew when her daughter received her teaching certification, and she heard about my granddaughter’s start of a teaching career.

It was over 50 years ago that Lois, Lynn, and I stood in Jonesboro at the head of Cook Street and said goodbye knowing Lois was leaving the next day.. The leaves were aglow then too with beautiful colors, and I can see it all clearly in my head. Despite the lumps in our throats back then, we were young and eager for what life was going to bring us, so we did not know how sad it was. The three of us were not together again until 50 years later when we all had dinner in California one night. The leaves are starting to gleam with gold again, and when Lois and Tom leave this time, I will know how exactly how sad such farewells are.

Meeting Writers at Union County Writers Fair

The Union County Writers Group hosted a Writers Fair at Stinson Memorial Library in Anna today in cooperation with the county's Colorfest. Joanne Blakely, our president of UCWG, did a great job organizing the day, and as always it was fun to socialize with fellow writers.

It was also fun to read from my book Down on the Farm in my childhood home territory, and I was able to read the Ben H. Smith poem I'd left out of the book for fear of copyright infringement. I truly believed the poem from the Gazette-Democrat was in public domain, but a slightly different version had appeared in a 1937 Houghton-Mifflin anthology and I was a little uneasy about using the poem without permission. I thought the version in the Gazette was slightly better than the anthology version, and I enjoyed sharing it.

I partly enjoyed sharing the poem orally because I resent the way the copyright law is sometimes used by book publishers. The law interpreted in a very subjective way, and no one really knows what "fair use" is. Trying to get permission to use a few words and especially a poem is putting yourself in position to jump through numerous time-consuming hoops. If you have a deadline, the hoops become impossible. And instead of helping the author as the copyright law was intended to do, often authors are denied recognition that would benefit their works. GRRRR.

After Ben H. Smith's death in 1951, the same year I was graduated from A-J, his column "Where the Hills Slope Upward" continued for many years with reprints of his poetry plus poems and letters of local authors and former residents. I wish the Gazette would reinstate the column. It was a fine thing for Union County.

Joe Neil Steward, Anna-Joneshoro graduate and a Hollywood actor for 20 years, came up from Knoxville and served as keynote speaker. In addition to reading from his novels (he has four), he began his presentation by reading a powerful Civil War poem that spoke volumes about humanity's dilemna in wartime.

G. Brooks Kohler came up from Nashville and read us one of his stories. Although he is one of our younger members and living in a major cosmopolitan area on Music
Row as a full-time screen writer, it was interesting that he along with others who shared the mike were predominatnly writing with a rural voice.

Joanne and Linda Kall had organized a writing contest for young people, and it was indeed a pleasure to hear them read their winning selections. Linda emphasized that of the 30 entries, all were excellent. Several other young people were present also throughout the day, and some partook of the open mike.

Workshops to spur creativity were participated in by all, and I think we writers all went home glad we could attend the Fair and interact with and inspire one another. Since I don't get down to our meetings as often as I'd like, it was good to see Violet Toler, Mary Sadler, Betty Hickam,Joanne Kowaleski again as well as to meet some of the many new members UCWG has attracted--Lisa Kirby,Ron Schmenk, and a long-ago friend Barbara Steffans.

Johnston City Girls Are #1

Johnston City junior high softball team played yesterday against Carmi and won 3-0. It was a good game well played by both teams. JC got ahead in the first inning, however, and stayed there throughout the game. They were one happy group of girls when the game was over.

We had gone up to Pinckneyville at 1 p.m. to see Tara's Pinckneyville team play Carlyle. That too was a good game, but Pinckneyville lost 2-0. With such a young team winning fourth in this state tourney, I suspect Southern Illinois softball teams better watch out for Pinckneyville next year.

Tuesday we burned up at the games; yesterday we were cold. Such is the life of softball fans. I try to wear hats and use sunscreen when it is really hot, because in the back of my mind I am hearing Dr. Poulous scolding me if I don't. And the next time if I get a third skin cancer, I won't have her teriffic skill as a surgeon to patch up my face. Unfortunately for her patients, she has retired..

When we got back to Woodsong after the games, I was realizing it was a little late for my plans to make mini-meatloafs in a hurry from the ground beef I had thawed. I had cooked a large pot of green beans that Gerald had picked and broken for us. These green beans had come up volunteer after he had plowed under the last of the July beans. I was still trying to figure an alternate menu when we walked in the kitchen. There were wonderful smells there, and David was at the stove finishing up supper. He had the table all set, and fish and macroni and cheese was ready to eat with these wonderful fresh green beans. Today we had the meatloaf.

Big Sis vs Little Sis

Well, Johnston City junior high girls beat the Pinckneyville Panthers in the state semis yesterday at Pinckneyville 2-0. We were proud and happy for Geri Ann, who definitely contributed to that win. We were proud and sad for Coach Tara, who had taken a young team with no experience so far in their first year.

We stayed for the other game after ours to see who would play our teams on Thursday afternoon. Carlyle will play Tara's team for third, and Carmi will play J.City for first place. Both of those teams looked good.

After the games at the city park, we enjoyed getting to take Tara by her third grade classroom in a lovely new building with air conditioning no less. Then we got to take her to supper back at DuQuoin and see her house. Athena was glad to see her too. We were proud of her all over again.

Can you spell Bus?

Laughter ruled at the annual reunion of Baptist Student Union members from the 1940s and 1950s at Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. Meadow Heights Baptist Church in Collinsville hosted us last Thursday and Friday and shared their lovely facilities and a great deal of their talent with us. One highlight for me was hearing the folk song from the 30s when one singer shared "Arkey, will you tell Okie that Texas said there is a job in Californie." How haunting that song was to capture the bravery and the hope and shared helpfulness during one of the most desperate eras of our national life.

Sentimentality and some sadness were present, but with Helen Galloway, our CEO extraodinaire, leading us, continual laughter quashed other emotions. Her extemp comebacks were fast and furious, wacky and wonderful, and she kept us enjoying ourselves.

One of the stories Helen told us was one she heard when she first joined BSU. A group of BSU students had gone to Ridgecrest on a chartered bus with BSU prominently displayed. They pulled out of a filling station and the mountaineer there exclaimed that those dumb college students did not even know how to spell "bus."

We missed those who were unable to come back from last year--some because of death. Before we listened to the song Prof Quinn sang for us a year ago, it was good to get an update on Phronzie Quinn and know she has a good caretaker. We prayed for George and Leona Davis who had never missed before, but were hindered from attending because of George's illness.

This reunion was started by the 1940s group, but they started inviting us "young ones." And we are glad they did. (The Lu Steele era group had met two or three times but had ceased meeting long ago.) I even enjoyed becoming Rosie (Martin) Parks' little sister again as her and Phil's friends asked about them down in Amarillo. I started college known as Rosemary's sister, but I got some revenge when she and Phil came back on campus after his four years in the Air Force. For a brief time, she got introduced as Sue's sister.

Using "Get Your Kicks on Route 66" as her theme, Helen had assembled fascinating decorations including a wonderful vintage car outside to greet us as we entered the building. And she couldn't resist a few in-print laughs tacked on the many chenille bedspreads and housecoats paraded on the walls of the fellowship hall where we enjoyed excellent soup and sandwiches Thursday evening and a lavish feast on Friday noon before we moved into the auditorium for a final song fest and the reminiscences of Jack Shelby.

One of the reunion highlights for Gerald and me was visiting back at the motel Thursday night with Betty Bettis Cox and Carol Smith. Betty had masterminded our meeting again when Gerald came back to SIUC from service, and Carol had sung at our 1956 wedding. But the richness of their present lives was what thrilled and inspired me. I felt energized hearing what they were doing with international students and impressed by their knowledge of what is taking place in the world. It is very good to get off the farm sometimes and see and hear what other folk are doing.

Wendell Garrison, Gerald's former roommate and a groomsmen at our wedding, was there for the first time, and we enjoyed meeting his wife Mary as we also enjoyed visiting with another of Wendell's roommates Ernie Standefer and his wife Doris. And it was great having Don and Helen Ruth Dillow back in Illinois after their move to Texas. Betty and they live relatively close in that big state, and she rode up with them. Helen Ruth wanted to come not only to see us but also a 101-year-old friend up in Springfield, whom she had to leave behind when they moved. All the music at the reunion was great. I teased Helen Ruth that she didn't play the piano for worship back at Pennsylvania Avenue (where Don was our pastor) like she did when she boogied down on the Route 66 song.

When Gerald and I were quite young back in Clear Creek Association, I can remember hearing an even younger Rayford Raby play the piano. Although I never saw him after that and was not acquainted with him at that time, I had followed his career in the Illinois Baptist where I recently read of his retirement. After studying at Julliard, he had become music director at an Alton church and was there for 44 years. It was a joy to hear him play again.

Another special friend I met again at last year's reunion (the first one we attended) was Becky (Ferris) Searle from our Johnson Hall days. And Betty and Darrell Molen, and on and on--too many special people to mention. One of the recurring themes in people's remarks was that the people in that room were the people who had shaped their lives. That was true for all of us, and it was good to be together with such dear and important people from our past.

We took off after the last session to continue our trip towards Notre Dame for the weekend. I was regretting having to miss the final sermon and also the Joy Singers who were going to make an appearance at our services at Center in the village of Crab Orchard that night. Cliff and Jane Sims were headed home to stop for that service. Come to find out, they drive over from Harrisburg to participate with the Joy Singers at Marion First. As we said our farewells, this was a final example of the way members' lives have intertwined and blessed one another down through the years.

More softball, softball, softball

Both Geri Ann's Johnson City team and Tara's Pinckneyville team won their Saturday games at the state tournament for middle schoolers or junior high age. Although a sixth grader, Geri Ann got put in to pitch with bases loaded and JC went on to win. Tara is head coach at the junior high and Pinckneyville upset Murphysboro, which had been considered the top team in the tourney.

So here with go again. Tomorrow the Glasco sisters and their teams will face each other to decide who wins the state tourney in this end of the state. (I don't know who is playing for state champions in the northern end of the Illinois.) No matter who wins, the winning sister will once again shed tears for the loser just as happened last spring when Pinckneyville High School, where Tara is assistant coach, knocked Johnston City High School out of going to the state tournament. This kind of competition is difficult for grandparents.

We did not get to see Geri Ann and Tara's teams play Saturday because we were in Notre Dame seeing Erin play against Southern Illinois University Edwardsville and Parkway (University of Wisconsin). Three visiting teams were on campus that day for the second set of practice games, where each school played two games. Vickie had stayed in Pinckneyville to watch the other daughters' games, and Gerry came up to Notre Dame, but we kept up with the play at Pinckneyville through cell phone conversations.

Gerry, Vickie, Tara, and Geri Ann had all gone up the previous Saturday for the first set of four games. Notre Dame won all four practice games, and that will be all they play until the real season begins in the spring.

We were upset to see Erin limping from a knee injury and were grateful the coaches did not have her play the entire two games. She did catch a few innings, played first base in the second game, and was DH. She did well in all positions, but grandmother had a lump in her throat as she watched Erin walk with an iced knee after each game.

Saturday evening Gerry and Erin came to our hotel room, and we all watched the Notre Dame football game on the television set there. We enjoyed taking Erin out to eat during the weekend, and on Sunday we got to walk all over campus and see her dorm room and meet a couple of her roommates. As we had been told, the campus was very lovely. Since the football game was at Purdue, the campus was not congested.

We drove home through central Indiana, and Gerald drove the entire way. He suggested we stop at Kokomo for a root beer float as he wanted to see if he could find the house where Mary Ellen and Brian lived one year. We did find it, and Gerald got to see the wall he built at the end of their driveway so they could park their camper there.

We were back home at Woodsong by l0 p.m. tired and happy. We had left home after lunch Thursday to attend the Baptist Student Reunion at Meadow Heights Baptist Church in Collinsivlle, so it had been a long weekend. I'll have to share our reunion experiences tomorrow.

The Incredible Come-Back Kids from J. City

Yesterday Gerald and I hastened up to West Frankfort to see Johnston City and Carterville play to decide which team got to go to state softball tourney for the middle school/junior high age group this Saturday at Pinckneyville.

Immediately Carterville got a run in the first inning, and they stayed ahead of us throughout all their seven innings, which ended 5-3 when we went into the bottom of the seventh with Johnston City batting. Unbelievably, the JC girls got three runs and tied the score 5-5.

We went into the 8th, and Carterville got a run making the score 6-5. The fans felt disappointed, but not surprised since C'ville had been leading all along. JC did not give up. Suddenly in the bottom of the eighth, we had two players on and a girl got great hit, and the next thing we knew we had won 7-6. It took most of the JC fans a moment to process what they had just seen. The JC players went wild and most of the girls were crying and laughing at the same time.

Everyone felt terrible for Carterville as our girls and theirs are great friends from summer ball and they had played so well being ahead the entire game--until the very end.

Softball, softball, softball....

Gerry started Friday morning in Mexico, but managed to catch a plane out of Houston to Nashville, TN, where he rented a car and was home in time for Geri Ann's first game in the regional junior high girls softball tourney at West Franklfort. We arrived at the park just after Carterville had beaten Benton. The game we saw Johnston City play against Herrin was impressive. Both teams were good, and we were pleased to win 5-3 and be able to play against Carterville on Monday.

Before we left the park, granddaughter Tara, who coaches junior high softball, had called her mom to let her know that Pinckneyville had just won the regional up there by winning against Christopher. (Their region had started a day earlier, so she was playing in the championship game.) We left the park laughing at the image of Tara being dashed with a bucket of water for winning.

After a trip to the bank, showers, feeding the dogs and such, Gerry and Vickie and Geri Ann headed to meet up with Tara at Mt. Vernon, and they drove onto South Bend, where they were to see Erin play her first two practice games for Notre Dame yesterday. She was designated hitter in the first game and catcher in the second game. And Notre Dame won both games, one against Detroit Mercy and one against Wayne State.

Gerald was terribly tempted to go to Notre Dame also, but he stayed home and ended up getting all of the dirt work he's done on west side of the lake strawed thanks to our neighbor Scott. And with today's rain, he is glad it is completed. He also picked the okra, which we had for dinner today and did a number of other tasks.

Brian and Trent were down for the weekend in their camper. Now Brian is meeting Mary Ellen and Brianna to let Trent be back for school tomorrow while Brian stays down to work on their farming. Trent and Samuel got in quite a bit of play time. Something about electricity, lemons, paper clips, and something they'd found of Uncle David's came up when they re-entered the room after they had excused themselves from the Sunday dinner table to go play. I suspect they were wondering themselves how safe it was, for David immediately left the table saying, "I know what you are planning on doing, and you aren't going to do it." Ha. Gerald says it is always interesting when there are a couple of boys here--this time it was a little pile of rocks on the front porch. (Katherine explained they all came out of one of Trent's pockets--she saw him pulling them out.)

Ruby Jung and I had spent some time at Ernestine Brasher's on Thursday folding and assembling enough copies of our new Southern Illinois Writers Guild anthology to sell at the Hunting Fishing Days at John A. Logan College. Ernestine makes wonderful coffee and peach cobbler, by the way. I didn't get to stay as long as I wanted, for I needed to pick up Samuel from his school, which was nearby.

Then I spent Saturday at our Guild table at the Hunting Fishing event.And this year I not only got to sell the Guild anthologies, but I had my own book to sell. That was exciting. It was fun seeing so many people including David and Samuel and my nephew DuWayne and wife Vickie. I didn't have any former student come up this week, but one of my daddy's students did. Rita Kirby had been reading Dixie Terry's plugs for my book, and she came intending to buy one. It meant a great deal to me to get to autograph a book for one of my late father's students.

When I got home I had a phone message that I can have a book signing at Carbondale's Bookworm on November 5th and then later in the evening my friend Joyce called from Denver, Colorado. That was icing on the cake.

Priscilla of the Trail of Tears and Conference Champs

In terrible heat for two afternoons, we have watched Geri Ann and the other Johnston City girls play softball in their conference tourney. We played at Christopher Monday afternoon and the sun was almost unbearable. I guess because of the rain, yesterday's game was played at Johnston City on the home field. After a two-inning overtime with Carterville, we did win the conference championship.

We will probably play Carterville again soon in the regional tourney, which starts Friday afternoon at West Frankfort. Girls from Carterville and JC play together on a summer traveling team, so the kids are buddies and the intense rivalry is friendly.

Talking to another grandmother up at Sesser under a big shade tree, where we had both sought refuge from the blazing sun, I learned she was from the Mulkeytown area and actually related distantly to the Silkwood family. In asking her about the Priscilla legend, I learned that her children had been shown a photograph of Priscilla. I know that Chloe Davis and Ruby Henderson tried to find the photo they had heard about for their books, but they did not find it. I had wondered if one really existed. But this is testimony that the photo existed during my lifetime. Does it still exist? What a mystery.

September Saturday in Eygpt

I was upset about having to miss Geri Ann's first tournament game yesterday morning, but as it turns out, Johnston City had a bye, so I didn't miss a game after all. I was involved with our Southern Illinois Writers Guild table at the annual Woman's Health Conference at John A. Logan College.

Because of some printing difficulties, our 2005 anthologies had not yet been folded. But Ruby Jung sacrifically folded a dozen and brought them over for our table. We sell this yearly collection of diverse local authors as a fund raiser for the Guild. Poems, plays, stories, articles--you name it. We've had them all in the four years we have accomplished this project.

Our first anthology, edited by Carol Cross, had an essay by Hualing Hu, and we had just learned at our meeting Thursday night that Hualing has sold the movie rights to her book American Goddess at the Rape of Nanking: The Courage of Minnie Vautrin. And this year Illinois will be commemorating the birthday of Minnie Vautrin. One of the joys of being a writer is being able to make people aware of information they would not otherwise have. Hualing has done that for us here in Illinois--sharing with us this heroine from Secor, Illinois, who bravely saved so many Chinese women from death.

Again it was fun seeing friends, meeting strangers, and talking up books at our signing table. Once more I had a former JALC student come and thank me for showing a special interest in her when she took an English class and exhibited special writing talent. That is a blessing of book signings that I had never imagined might take place. And it means a great deal. Most teachers are introspective enough to wonder if they did a terrible job teaching. So you will make a former teacher's day if you tell him/her if you enjoyed that class ten years ago. I felt a joy I cannot explain to know those days when I was sitting up to 2 a.m. grading essays were truly appreciated. (I liked grading essays--but did not like spending the time it took to do so.)

Anne-Marie Legan had joined me, and Deb Tucker came at noon. Lonnie Cruse was in and out as she had to do a presentation for the conference at 1:30 and then afterwards she joined the table. I had to leave at noon to gas up our car and head down rough rough Route 24 to Vienna for the Trail of Tears Association meeting at the library community room there. I had not had time for breakfast and only grabbed a hamburger at a drive-in window and ate it on the way down. So the yummy home-made refreshments served us by the local DAR was more than welcome. And that gave us plenty of incentive and the proper atmosphere to socialize and network with all the others interested in the Trail of Tears. There are small highway signs along Route 146 declaring it the Trail of Tears route, but some years ago the good metal markers near Route 57 and then at Dutch Creek disappeared. No one seems to know what happened to them. Did someone steal them? Did someone take them down and store them in a warehouse someplace? Citizens hope to see them replaced someday.

Books, birthdays, and ballgames

On Saturday I had my second book signing in the afternoon at Waldenbooks. It was great having Pam (King) Boan come out just to get my book--she had phoned earlier in the week. And it was good to see a former colleague from teaching days at Marion High School--she and her husband were walking the mall, so she stopped twice and talked a bit. I was filled with admiration for some walkers who went by my table repeatedly. I needed that exercise! And it was neat to meet a former neighbor from the other farm and her daughter and visit with them. And especailly gratifying to visit with a former JALC student. And it was wonderful to meet new people--some of whom also live on a farm--and some who did not. I had a little toy tractor placed on the table the store provided, and children liked that. For someone who likes people watching, an afternoon observing the mall traffic was an interesting experience. Some folks, for various reasons, said they would stop by this week to buy the book--but with only two copies left at day's end, they may have to wait if they don't get there first.

Gerald and I stopped by Barnes & Noble today to see if they had the two on the shelf yet that the assistant manager had told me they would order to see how it would sell. But I could not find the book there. A clerk had told me the book would be placed in the parenting/child care section back by the children's book store rather than with the Illinois books. She was very adamant that they do not have a "local author's shelf" but rather an Illinois section. Since my book is definitely about this region, it would make more sense to me to place the book there, but that particular clerk said it had to be classified as it was on the computer. HMMMM. I personally have been told by both a friend and a niece that they ordered the book and had been phoned to pick it up. I think they got their books in about a week. But I don't know what happened to the two copies I was told were ordered. Hope someone is happily reading them in this region!!

I assume Book Worm has the books they ordered by now although Gerald and I didn't have time to stop before or after he had the series of medical tests offered today at Lakeland Baptist Church. (I had my tests the other day when they were offered in Carterville--but they gave me the last time slot, so Gerald had to wait until today.) As soon as Book Worm gets their extensive remodeling done, I've been told I can have a signing there. They are very kind to local authors.

Saturday was David's birthday. I am notoriously forgetful about our three sons-in-law's birthdays with one in July, one in August, and one in September. I am usually about two weeks behind when I remember. So last year I bought three cards that said what I wanted to say to them, wrote their birthday checks, and mailed them all three at the first of the summer to make up for all the belated cards. But this year I have been back to my old bad habits, so Brian and Rick got their cards late. With David here in the house while their house remodeling is going on, I was determined not to be late with his. So the night before I put his card at his plate for breakfast. And Saturday morning I put together the cake I'd baked Friday night. I wasn't here, but Brian and Trent and Bree had dropped by (and had to fix their own lunch) and when the Cedars got home from their cabinet appointment, they and Gerald, when he got back from Geri Ann's tourney game, all had a birthday party of sorts. Of course, Sam had made his daddy cards the night before also, so David had started celebrating with Katherine and Sam when he first got up. And he continued celebrating through the next day with his family, so this year he had more than one timely celebration.

Erin's birthday was Sunday, and we all were a little sad for her to be so far away. Vickie went up and spent the weekend with her at Notre Dame, and they had a good time. I mailed her our card on Friday--so I am sure hers was belated also.

Today we stopped by friends after the Carbondale errands and visited with them until time for Geri Ann's ballgame at the diamond there at the beautiful new Tri-C elementary school. Geri Ann only got to bat once, and Molly walked her, so Geri Ann got her assigned job done. It was a good game even tho we lost. And the pitching on both sides was great.

There is a full schedule of softball games this week, so Geri Ann and her grandparents will be busy going to games.

Dog Days of Summer and Doing Dishes

It has been hot today. Gerald and I ran up to see Geri Ann's softball game, and the sun beamed down. (Of course, he had been working outside all day before we went as well.) Since Johnston City won 16 to 1, we got to quit after four innings which was good in the heat.

We came home, and I fixed spaghetti and meatballs with canned sauce and prepared meatballs from Sam's Warehouse. With a salad and cookies and canned peaches for dessert, supper did not take long to prepare for the five of us. Spaghetti clean-up is not my favorite thing, but the truth is I don't usually like any kind of kitchen clean-up.

I don't mind pitching in and helping at others' houses because we visit as we work and enjoy the time together. And I sometimes enjoy such communal clean-up times in my own kitchen. My cousin Dot called the other day from California, and we both laughingly remembered the same thing--being in our kitchen at Pondside washing dishes and talking just as hard as our Rockenmeyer genes would allow us to talk, which is pretty hard.

Another reason I would rather wash others' dishes than my own is that the dishes are different, so I am not as bored. I used to visit second-hand stores and buy a couple of new five cent dishes when my children were all at home--a pretty new dish or two helped me not mind washing dishes so much.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time

At my friend Carolyn's house, she shared her recent reading and mentioned a book with a funny title about a dog in the night or some such wording. Soon after I returned home, my friend Pat said I needed to read this book with a strange title and it was in our Crab Orchard library. The book is about a child whose brain has an unnamed difference from most of us.

I mentioned it to Mary Ellen and she laughed and said she had the book and had told me about it. I knew she had when I read the book--because I remember our long discussion trying to figure out what a prime number was. I have read the book and still cannot tell you. I just finished it this afternoon.

Although no one knows what is inside another human being's brain cells, author Mark Haddon may (or may not) be fairly accurate in describing the thought processes of his fictional character--young Christopher Boone, who sets out to discover who murdered a neighbor's dog. Haddon now teaches creative writing for the Arvon Foundation and lives in Oxford, England. As a young man, he worked with (taught??) autistic individuals. My friends said Christopher was autistic or perhaps had Asperger's Syndrone, and the librarian said someone told her the book was about a savant. It is a captivating story and the adjectives on the fly leaf include: brilliant, moving, amazing, superb achievement, bleakly funny, heartbreaking, observant, clever, suspenseful." One reviewer compared him to Oliver Sacks, and Oliver Sacks called the book "very plausible."

The diversity of human life is astounding and confusing and disturbing. And rewarding. And the adujustment people make who need to adjust to such diversity is heroic. Thank you, Mark Haddon.

A Visit to Pondside

Coming home from my first book signing on Saturday, I stopped at the home of Bruce and Robyn who bought Pondside Farm almost four years ago. Robyn loves to read, and I wanted them to have a copy of the book that tells of the 1960s happenings in their home.

Although they had kindly invited me over any time to see our former home, I hesitated. It has been very difficult for me to look at old photographs of Christmas at Pondside (although I love viewing the Christmas pictures we have taken since here at Woodsong). I remembered only too well being invited by Mrs. Sullivan (who took care of my mother) to see the house her grandson and wife and twins bought after Mother's death. Mrs. Sullivan was being kind, and I was interested in seeing Mother's former home with pretty new carpeting and so forth. But being in those familiar rooms was very unsettling to me and I had to fight tears. I was not sure I could bear going back "home" to Pondside.

When I stopped, Robyn insisted I come in, and again I hesitated. I had not really intended to go in. But I did, and interestingly, the changes there were so extensive (and lovely) that I had no feeling of being in our former home. Carpets were replaced with hardwood floors, and there was a fireplace added in the corner of the living room. The wall and pantry between the kitchen and dining room had been removed, and the result was spacious and in no way resembling the former kitchen/dining rooms. New cabinets made the kitchen shine. The laundry/utility room was now divided into a smaller laundry room and a sewing room. The family room was the same size--but with hardwood floors and a big pool table in the middle, I had no sense of being where I used to live. I loved the way they had made the house look inside, and I went away happily without tears or any kind of sadness. I can go back "home" in memory, but I no longer have to fear being overcome by emotion by returning to the house there.

It was fun meeting the little granddaughter, who had been born shortly after they moved in. Her mother had been the only one in their deer hunting party who got a deer that season, and the baby girl was born a few days later. I wanted to get the baby a little camouflage sleeper like I got for Samuel when he was born, and I went to every place in town I could think of to acquire one. People would say such and such a store had them--and they would be out when I got there. Finally, I gave up when the child was a year old and I had not yet found the camouflage sleeper. Now I finally got to meet her, and since her parents are living next door to Bruce and Robyn now, she is a member of our former neighborhood.

Labor Day Weekend

It has been a busy weekend in some ways but not typical as we neither had much company nor went anyplace.

Today I stayed home all day--always a rare and welcome treat. Brian had taken their camper from Wayside Farm last weekend up nearer their home so they could camp out with friends this Labor Day weekend. He brought it down this afternoon. Trent and Bree came with him, and he dropped them off to play with Samuel, which was good. By the time I got around to fixing supper, they needed to be on the road to be ready for work and school Tuesday, so they didn't stay. Since we were eating up leftovers, that was just as well. Ha.

Gerald and David and Katherine had all spotted our mother deer and twin fawns recently, so that was part of our supper conversation. Sam and I haven't gotten to see them yet.

Saturday morning I woke at 6:45 to happy young male voices floating through the house from the kitchen. David said he had set the alarm for Samuel and Josh for 6 a.m. rather than the 5:30 they preferred. Since he had to take Josh back to Marion for soccer practice at 9:00, they had to get their play in early. The night before, I had had ambitious thoughts about frying the pound of bacon in the fridge for these young adventurers, but the boys sounded quite content fending for themselves in the cereal cabinet, and I have little ambition or conscience when I first wake up. Gpa Gerald said he had heard them all the way to the end of the lane when he went down on his morning walk to pick up the newspaper at the roadside. By the time he got back to the house, the boys had great plans for his taking them on the "mule" and then on the paddle boat around the lake, and Gpa was kind enough to comply.

Saturday afternoon I had the first signing for Down on the Farm: One American Family's Dream, at the Crab Orchard Library, but I was somewhat torn as a friend's' brother was having a funeral at the same time. However, it was good to have several friends and my pastor and wife (after the funeral) show up and to get to visit with them.

It was especially good of Jane Perr to drive down from West Frankfort to buy a book. When I was working in family literacy in Franklin County, Jane was a wonderful volunteer at our Family Partnerships group. However, the thing that always impressed me most about Jane was that she did so much volunteer work anonymously for elderly friends in addition to organized volunteer work. If someone was blind and needed help feeding her cats or someone needed a ride to visit a child in prison or whatever, Jane quietly met that person's need.

In the present crisis, our very national survival may depend upon the generosity of Americans. While at the church house on Saturday morning, I happened to answer a phone call requesting supplies to be taken Tuesday to First Baptist Church in Marion, where a semi will be loaded to carry donations to Brookhaven, Mississippi. Churches there have opened their doors to over 14,000 citizens who had to leave their homes. The churches are feeding the people, but personal and medical supplies are needed, and this is something folks in Southern Illinois can help out with.

At our Sunday dinner table, David shared that a truck of food from the food pantry at Marion Second Baptist Church had already gone to another community in Mississippi. And we read in the paper where Monte Blue is collecting supplies to take to the community where Kelli had started college before the hurricane hit.

We had a good evening service at our church last night with the younger son of a new family being baptized. This brought several visitors. His previous pastor came and baptized him and spoke to us. Although the visiting preacher said it was appropriate to ask why just as Jesus did, there are times when we should not dwell on the why God allowed something to happen. His message based on Jesus' explanation (or actually lack of explanation) for tragedies in Luke 13:1-5 made it clear that we are not to presume to judge why a tragedy happens to someone else. Rather Jesus said to worry about ourself and repent. Bad things do happen to good people -- as we have all observed during this week of national tragedy.

Life is so unfair.

It is difficult to enjoy our pleasant life with all that is going on in New Orleans and the Gulf coast. As always it is the poorest of the poor who are hit the hardest by a natural tragedy. That is not to say that the richest of the rich have not suffered terrible losses also. The only difference is that the rich usually have friends with resources, so that they can get out of town, afford a good motel room, and know they will survive economically when the crisis is over. For the poor who survive, they may never recover. On the other hand, they may get a fresh start and be better off than ever before.

All over America prayers are going up for the stranded, the bereaved, the rescue workers, and for the generous people of Texas and Tallahassee, and other areas where people are sharing homes, money, food, time, and effort to alleviate the awful suffering. May God guide the American people through this time of despair where people who are still in shock from the hurricane and flooding are being asked to cope with uncivilized circumstances.

I finally got to one of Geri Ann's softball games this afternoon. The weather was hot but soon a gentle breeze made it quite comfortable. People were very aware of the crisis in our nation, and as they watched the chldren play a game and cheered them on, the conversation would revert to the Gulf coast, worries about relatives not heard from, and what they were donating to help out.

Samuel has his friend Josh out to spend the night. I was here at the computer with all the lights in the room blazing, but they were so caught up in their bionicals and play that they did not realize when they came into the kids' "art room" that I was around the corner from them. I did not realize they didn't realize until almost the end, but it was fun overhearing their unedited conversations and play.

It was also fun picking up a Marion Daily Republican and reading Dixie Terry's interview about my book Down on the Farm and then going to the Illinois Centre Mall this afternoon and seeing my book on the shelf at Waldenbooks. I knew how much effort Gina Horton and Shawna had put into getting the book ordered and into the store, so that made it extra nice. Tomorrow I will have my first book signing at the Crab Orchard Public Library in the village of Crab Orchard.

I never see our library without remembering the ten years we spent as a Reading Center affiliated with the Shawnee Library System. Volunteers would go a few hours a week and sit in the old school building (now destroyed and replaced by beautiful new facility)and freeze to death in cold weather and burn up in summer. I can remember wearing three pair of sox and climbing very slick steps to get into the Reading Center room and not a patron would show up all Saturday morning. No one had the the library habit in those beginning days. (However, Jean McCamish always encouraged us by letting us know that even if we did not have patrons some days that the school library and students all had some great benefits from the Shawnee System because of our presence in the old school building next door. That encouragment was all that kept me volunteering sometimes.) Now thanks to fantastic efforts of our director Lola Morris, the other librarians there, the volunteer board, and the taxpayers, we have a beautiful comfortable building, a constant flow of patrons, activities for preschool children, and a community that definitely has the library habit.

Sunday Sermon in Freeport

On Sunday morning after we had let Lucky and Leah out into their pen, Cecelie and I ate toast together. Gerald always gets up early at Freeport and goes out for breakfast and reads the newspaper and comes back to the house when the rest of us are getting awake.

Jeannie and Rick had grabbed the opportunity while we were there to make a short over-night get-away to Chicago before their heavy school schedule begins again. So they were going to church up there, and we took Cecelie to Sunday School at her church, Park Hills Evangelical Free Church. In the past when we have gone with Jeannie and Rick we just tagged along to their class. However, being by ourselves, I wondered if it might be better for us to go to a senior citizens class. We went upstairs where a very elderly gentleman was standing at the coffee table. I assumed he was a host and asked him about a class for our age group. He shook his head sadly and said there was no class because we had missed Sunday School as the opening time had been changed. Puzzled at first, since we had just escorted Cecelie to her class for which she was obviously on time, I continued to listen to the sweet lonely old man explain how he belonged to another church but was here because he liked to stay involved and not let himself get bored. As he lectured on the importance and doing things and going places, I realized that he was indeed stretching himself. Since we were right by the classroom we usually attended, we left the old gentleman enjoying his cup of coffee and darted into the classroom of much younger adults where we were warmly welcomed and had a good Bible study based on a book by Philip Yancey.

Gerald collected Cecelie and we attended the worship service together. There we heard an outstanding sermon on the familiar passage in Ecclesiastes 3. I am still thinking of the pastor's studied conclusion that life is not a puzzle to be figured out but rather a gift from God to be enjoyed. It was comforting to be assured that many things are beyond our control and will happen no matter what we do, but a transition will always occur. Accepting transitions successfully is something we can do somethng about. I felt his brief sentence about the importance of recognizing when it was a time to keep and when it was a time to discard was meant just for me. I am still mulling on that as our week progresses.

We went to Wendy's for lunch and Gerald and Cecelie had a Frosty for dessert before we went back home for the afternoon. Cec was eagerly awaiting her parents' return, but she was easily occupied by the dogs, our walk, the visit of a neighbor child, etc. until Jeannie returned. (Rick had been dropped off at the high school, where his truck was, where he had been working on his math classes before they left on Saturday. While continuing his preparation, he phoned from there to say goodbye and thank us.) I liked hearing from Jeannie about their visit to the Toulouse LauTrec exhibit at the Chicago Art Institute that Rick was kind enough to take her to.

We quickly said our goodbyes and left at 5 and got onto Route 20, which we had learned the day before is the General Ulysses S. Grant Memorial Highway. We were intending to get a motel on the way back home, but the closer we got to home, the livelier Gerald became. We arrived at Woodsong at three minutes after midnight. We listened to reports of Hurricane Katrina as we drove down Route 57 and prayed for those in that awful situation knowing that much of what was going on was beyond their control and they were indeed going to have terrible transitions ahead of them.

Concerts at the Stephenson County Fair and at the Coffee House and then Galena

We made our annual jaunt to Freeport to attend the Stephenson County Fair and heard Leslie sing her fourth concert there--and Elijah sing his first. Although the kids did not start school until Friday, Jeannie was already at work on her grant job, and Rick was involved with teacher meetings and tennis practice. So their schedule was quite challenging all week long.

We went up on Wednesday and arrived in time to go to the house first (barely) and onto the fair for Elijah's 4 p.m. concert. He was quite good and interspersed his songs with jokes. Afterwards we walked through the art and home/hobby building, and I think Gerald and Cecelie got to see some farm machinery and animals. We went to Culvers for supper according to our tradition altho this year we dropped Les off at a gathering of her friends.

Since Jeannie and Rick were at work, on Thursday we took Leslie to the Coffee House at l0 a.m., where she was to sing for four hours. Cecelie and I stayed and listened and enjoyed fancy hot chocolate, etc., until noon while Gerald and Lige went to Farm and Fleet. They joined us there for lunch, and then we all went home until time to pick Leslie up.

Jeannie and Rick needed to take Cecelie and Elijah back to the fair Thursday night to ride the rides since that was wrist-band night. Consequently, Gerald got to drive Leslie to and from that night's social activity at the pastor's daughter's home. I got to rest and read a book!

Friday morning Les and Lige both had their first day of school--just a half day. Cecelie, who was starting first grade, had only an hour or so in the afternoon, so Jeannie took off work and took her while I took Leslie out to the beauty school at the college for manicure and hair appointment.

Leslie's hour concert was at 5 that evening, so we again attended the fair. To say we were thrilled with her singing as we had been with Elijah's is a grandparent's understatement.

Afterwards, we walked through the lamb house and saw more machinery and animals before Rick took us all out to dinner. Since Lige and Les were leaving early the next morning for a youth retreat, Jeannie wasn't wanting Les to socialize--but a couple of friends who couldn't make it to the concert showed up in their car for her to sing some of her songs for them -- and presented her with roses.

Ever since Jeannie and Rick moved to Freeport in 1995, I have wanted to go to Galena. On Saturday morning after Jeannie took the older two to church to leave for their retreat at Dixon, Gerald and I and Cecelie took off through northwestern Illinois, and we saw Jo Daviess County for the first time.

The panorama of the gently rolling hills and beautiful farms were magically picturesque. You could see for miles and everything was gorgeously green. We stopped at the wooden-staired tower and climbed to the very top (puff puff) and could see even further. The tower itself was a work of art, and Cecelie loved it.

Galena was as pretty as I imagined, and the diversity of architecture there is unbelievable. One of the earliest of Illinois towns because of the river and the lead mines, Galena had reached its height of population with 14,000 before the mines gave out and the railroads replaced the river transportation. With under 4000 population, the residents there welcome over l00,000 tourists each year including an annual Boy Scout celebration of President Grant's birthday.

We visited the beautiful Italinate home the citizens of Galena gave their hero General Ulysses S. Grant when he returned from the Civil War. Gerald said he bet they built and furnished it for $l0,000, and we were to learn from a brochure that actually it was all for $2500! Five bedrooms, lovely parlor with horsehair furniture, dining room set with the china they took to the White House, library with two huge bookcases filled with books, and kitchen and pantry and a little room off the kitchen with a bathtub! Kerosene lights, of course, and fireplaces in downstairs rooms and coal stoves in the upstairs bedrooms. A sweet little dressing room for Mrs.
Grant with a sewing machine. No servants quarters as they only had day help despite all the entertaining they must have had to do.

The library contained the statue of President Lincoln, General Grant, and Secretary of War Stanton done by sculpture John Rogers. I encouraged Cecelie to help me remember that to tell her mother who would be interested.

Julia Dent Grant was the first president's wife to be called the First Lady as all have been called since. She entertained lavishly in the White House, and their daughter Nellie was the first presidential child to be married in the White House.

We also visited the little general store next door to Grant's home and the Market House downtown where we saw more displays on Grants' life and his saddle and Mrs. Grant's tiny size 4 shoes on display.

Elihu Washbourne's home was only open on Fridays we were told. We could have spent a week in Galena and not seen everything, but we felt we and Cecelie had absorbed about all we could absorb in this lovely lovely history-laden town with more stairs going up and down the hills than you can imagine.

Taking a different route home, we crossed into the dairy land of Wisconsin and stopped for a drink at a little store where they made and sold cheeses. Gerald and I had old-fashioned bottles of root beer, but Cec chose that modern harsh blue stuff in a plastic bottle. We sampled cheeses with toothpicks and took home a goodly supply. Since we had let Cecelie choose Happy Joe's for lunch, we decided supper at McDonald's (her second choice at lunch)might make a perfect ending for her day and she agreed. The dogs Lucky and Leah were glad to see us.

Summer is almost over.

Two local grandchildren, Samuel and Geri Ann, started back to school with registration Friday. Geri Ann's middle school softball team played four games last week plus in an all-day tourney on Saturday. I am always reluctant for summer to end, and this year is no exception. Fall and spring are my favorite seasons, but I feel a certain melancholy at the death of summer's greenness. The start of a new school year has always seemed to me as the true new year rather than January 1 in the middle of the year.

Brian came down to mow his government ground, and he worked hard all day long and into the evening on Saturday. He did not work any harder than Trent and Brianna and Sam played, however. It was so hot that without Geri Ann here to encourage them to get outside and play dodge ball, they stuck under the air conditioning watching videos and playing their various electronic games in a world of their own.

I had dallied on Friday and postponed my grocery shopping trip until Saturday morning. Guess I wanted to stay under the air conditioning also. I had okra cut up to fry for lunch when I came home and thought with sliced tomatoes, I would serve the fried chicken I bought at the Kroger deli and the apple crumb pie I bought from the Apostolic church women's group outside Krogers on the sidewalk in the heat. I was attracted to the teenage girls at the table and wanted to encourage them--and I also did not want to fix a weekend dessert. When I got home, I found out David was working as Brian was, and I decided to just serve the chicken and tomatoes and fry the okra for supper.

Just as I went up to start supper, David called and said he'd bring home a couple of the bake-in-your-own oven pizzas, which he did with a large salad. So I did not cook supper. Brian wasn't in yet when we finished eating, and I left everything on the dining room table for him. Before I got upstairs to clean the kitchen, however, David had put everything away. I had an easy Saturday in the kitchen.

And because it was so late when Brian got through mowing, his plans to make home-made ice cream up at their camper and invite Sam up for that instead of the usual smores got postponed until after church today at our house. Home-made ice cream is one of Brian's specialties at campsites.

Before we left for Sunday School and church this morning, I put a meat loaf and beef roast in the oven, so all I had to do when we got home was make instant mashed potatoes, slice the tomatoes, and finally fry the okra. The bake-sale pie had not been cut yet, so that was still available to go along with the truly delicious ice cream. Brian and the kids had to start back to Lake Saint Louis, and we sent some tomatoes and okra home with them for Mary Ellen to enjoy this week since she could not be with us today.

I ran by the Cedars' house yesterday morning for the first time and went through the changed rooms. The workers were up on the roof, and they didn't even know I was there. It is a long way from finished, but I love the open spacious look.

Powerful Southern Illinois Writers

It was exciting last night to listen to several local writers share their work at the Writers Guild at John A. Logan College. Those sharing ranged in age from a Herrin high school graduate who is leaving now for his second year at Florida State and also his father to some of us in our seventies. There were fiction pieces, oral stories, humorous pieces, nonfiction and yet another tantalizing chapter from our president Linda Allen's mystery novel. I can't wait until she finishes it and I can hold the published book in my hands. I was most impressed with a very original form of writing by Roger Poppin. He delivered an entire series of one or two sentence observations on life that were so powerful that they repeatedly took my breath away. The observations were not exactly poetry, but because the meaning was so intense and so condensed, maybe it could best be described as poetry.

So Long. It's Been Good to Know You!

After Geri Ann's middle school game up at Zeigler, we all headed to Gerry and Vickie's where a surprise good-bye party was planned for Erin. She had agreed to be there at 7:30 to meet and say farewell to her sister Tara, and a host of us relatives and friends showed up also. Until all the cars parked outside gave it away, I think she was truly surprised.
Tomorrow Vickie and she take the six-hour drive to Notre Dame, and we won't be seeing much of Erin till Christmas break. This will be a big adjustment for all of us--but especially for her parents and sisters and her little dog Chloe.

Scientific Experiments

Although Mary Ellen has lived for years with strange stuff growing in her fridge and sink, I had been immune.

However, Samuel started the enthusiasm for scientific knowledge when he placed a tiny container of honey from restaurant meal in the freezer side of the downstairs fridge in the "art room" where the kids hang out. Feeling proud of his success, he shared the results with his cousins.

Inspired by this, the kids discovered that if you take the long narrow plastic sticks of frozen sweet water with multitude of flavors that Katherine had stored in the freezer for the kids--and if you empty them in Gma Sue's washed plastic yogurt cups and then microwave them in the Cedars' microwave that is in our downstairs right now, you will have a yummy yummy slushie. And you can carry on this experiment a long long time as you mix various flavors together. Katherine had one and agreed they were quite delicious and better than any town-bought slushie. However, since we are all nervous about the safety of plastic containers in a microwave, I stopped the experience unless they wanted to go upstairs and get non-plastic containers to use.

This switched the kids to making popcorn in the popcorn popper before they went to bed-- and doctoring it up good with the 48 ounce bottle of canola oil on the popcorn table there in the "art room." Seeing the mess the next morning, Gpa suggested I might need to put a smaller bottle of oil down there. (Since this room is not carpeted, I call it the "art room" to avoid calling it the "make-a-mess room.")

However, before I had considered how to clean up from that, the next morning's experiment was to try and use the oil to make "artificial vomit." I suspect it must have been highly successful. Aunt Katherine pulled out her best school teacher wisdom and after shaming them a bit about the mess, told the kids they needed to pay Gpa $2 for using up so much of his popcorn oil!

Well, they all dug deep and collected coins and presented them to Gpa. Gpa took them with grace and accepted apologies and has proudly shown his riches around. If you want to know why many of the coins are corroded, that is because Trent had tried at some point in time to see what happens when you put coins in acid--I assume vinegar. If you want to know without having to do the experiment yourself, take it from me the acid can really make the coins look groaty.

Since Mary Ellen took the kids back home after a sleep-in morning to rest up from all the traveling, then lunch on leftovers from Sunday dinner, and finally looking at her sister's books of remodeling plans, things are apt to be a little less exciting around here with just one grandchild in the house.

However, we won't get too bored, for Gerald and I started yet another softball season yesterday afternoon when we drove up to Sesser to see Geri Ann's first middle school game there. Afterwards, we started to go to the Sesser Opry House Cafe for supper and wondered why so many cars were parked there. We walked into a full house and a loud country music concert going on. Fearing we couldn't hear each other talk and that the crowd might prevent quick service and not seeing any place to sit, we got back into the car and turned on soft classical music and drove around some of the lovely park and camping area there by Rend Lake enjoying our region's beautiful scenery during the twilight. Then later as we traveled down Route 57, we pulled off at Seasons restaurant and found a quiet place where we had a very good sandwich. We continued listening to beautiful music all the way home, and it was a nice ending for our day.

Saying goodbye to Erin

Since Gerry and Erin were home from Salinas, they and Vickie, Tara, and Geri Ann were able to join us and the Cedars and Trent and Brianna for Sunday dinner at Woodsong. Special guests were cousins, Renee and her son Tyler.

Erin leaves us this week for fall semester at Notre Dame, and there is a certain sadness in our hearts although we are also happy and excited for her. We just won't be able to see as much of her. But that was also true when she started kindergarten. And it was true when high school and all those activities took up even more of her time. So I put a blue table cloth on in her honor with gold paper napkins, and Gerald picked golden blackeyed Susans, a handful of small sunflowers still blooming, and some of the partridge peas (warm season native grasses planted on the set-aside ground) for us. And Renee skillfully made a couple table arrangements for us. When two or three tiny insects turned up on the flowers on the kids' table, that added great meal-time entertainment for them.

David took Samuel and Trent fossil hunting yesterday while Brianna, who had spent the night with Geri Ann, went on their shopping trip to Fairview Heights.

Soon now Mary Ellen will be arriving to spend the night and collect the kids after being at Hilton Head for the weekend. She called about 2 or 3 and she and Brian were in Savannah and waiting to go on to Atlanta, where their ways would part. He is going to work in Florida this week, and she flew back to St. Louis and is now driving down.

Southern Force 2005

Another team from east of the Mississippi River won the 18 and Under Girls Softball Gold Nationals at Salinas. Southern Force was the first team east of the Misssissippi River to do so--last year at Marietta. Congratulations to Virginia Shamrocks.

Reflecting on the 2005 Summer season and the fact that the Gold Nationals at Salinas did not turn out as hoped, Gerry had to admit it was a great summer to finish 5th at the Champions Cup, win Orland Park and Cincinatti Sluggerfest, as well as Mattoon, and finish 3rd at Nashville, TN, with an overall record of 48-9-4. Congratulations to Southern Force, and best wishes to all the girls going off to play college softball. And may all the high school girls have a great year of study and play.

Southern Force on their way home

I am sad to report that Southern Force lost their game yesterday, so they were eliminated at Salinas. The last we heard from Gerry he was at the airport for a two hour wait till he started home.

A Surprise Visit from Jane and Vanessa

Katherine called me upstairs late yesterday afternoon saying I had surprise visitors who would make me happy, and they did. There stood my niece Jane and her daughter Vanessa, neither of whom I had seen for a couple of years for some reason. Vanessa was all grown up getting ready to start high school next week. I was so confused that I thought she was her older cousin Leana--even tho she looked like herself and not Leana. I finally got my bearings and adjusted to Vanessa's being an attractive young teen now and no longer the cute little girl who hiked at Ferne Clyffe with us. She is not only good at math and science, but she is very interested in art. I was glad to be able to call Brianna up to meet her second cousin. We had a good discussion with the girls about, "What do you want to do when you grow up?" Brianna will be in the fifth grade next year, and I think she will fulfill her goal to be a writer. I have found little books left behind, which she has writtten, for years now. Of course, she also has other interests--space travel and dog training, etc. We also got fresh news and updates on Vanessa's older brothers Ryan and Sean--both of whom are in college now.

My brother had just told me on the phone the other night that Jane would be on a 1-3 month paid time-off from her employment as a respiratory therapist as her company was making some significant changes. So Jane and Vanessa were on their way to vacation in Texas and stopped by.

Jane read some of her poetry to me. The special one she gave her mother for Mother's Day about unconditional love made me tear up. She has filled four journals of poetry since college--all written in long hand in that neat beautiful script she has. One of her goals while she is off work is to get them typed onto the computer.

I had not started supper yet--though by the end of the visit it was suppertime. I had cooked a couple of chickens the day before and had them (uncut up) with broth waiting in the downstairs fridge and was planning on making dumplings with tortillas for our supper for the seven of us here at Woodsong this weekend. I did invite Jane and Vanessa to stay, but they felt they needed to get on down the road. I was afraid it would take me quite awhile to get the meal on the table (and it did) so I did not insist they stay on.

But their visit was a lovely addition to an August day.

I Had It All Wrong

Southern Force is still in the tourney at Salinas. I was incorrect that it was single elimination. Although we lost our first game to the Arizona Hotshots and, thus, went to the losers' bracket, we can continue to play. Yesterday we won over the RBI Monarchs.

Ginger's angiogram went well, and no blockage showed up. Garry got to take her home yesterday evening. In fact, as they were going through the village of Ware, Garry saw people going into the church there for prayer meeting and said to Ginger that they could go. Ginger replied that she was all ready and willing, so they stopped to give thanks before reaching their farm. (That is why when Ernestine called from camping in the Tetons to find out about Ginger, we were unable to reach Garry and Ginger at their house.)

Mary Ellen, Trent, and Brianna arrived around 11 last night, so Samuel woke up happy this morning to have two buddies to play with. Mary Ellen lingered over the breakfast table just as Brian knew she would--so we had a nice visit. They are off this evening for a long weekend at Hilton Head Island, SC, where Brian is to receive an award from work. (The trip is part of the reward.) So the kids are staying here while they are away.

I had a little late night adventure because Mary Ellen told me that Katherine's interior lights in her van were on--and the van was locked. Confidently, I got the van keys and assumed I could get them to turn off. After two trips to the van determined not to give up, I finally had to get Katherine (who knew SHE had not turned them on) and she got them turned off and she went back to Internet research for some product needed for their house remodeling--and I finally headed to bed.

I made a huge double recipe of egg plant casserole yesterday for supper (that I had planned to make on Tuesday) and a small cobbler from some apples the Cedars had brought and that no one was eating. I had washed them and placed them in a bowl on the dining room table and while they looked pretty, no one noticed them. (Of course, having watermelon from the garden to eat and peaches from Flamm orchards that I got from Krogers gave the apples some competition. But the cobbler went over well.)

Gerald had already cleaned out all the martin houses, and suddenly we are getting great flocks again flying around, lighting on the houses, and resting on the telephone line. We assume they are on their way to South America.

The ducks Gerald raised and one of the other young ducks who has joined their group and the two remaining young geese have finally overcomed their awkwardness and learned to fly well. It is a pleasure to see them flying above the water as well as swimming in it.

Sad Activities

We attended a meaningful and comforting funeral service for Ken Boyer yesterday. We kept looking for Garry and Ginger and not seeing them, but I felt certain they were just where we could not see them. As we left to go to Casper Cemetery, however, Ken and Keith told us that Ginger was in the hospital at Cape Girardeau. Keith had felt something was wrong the night before when they were not at the visitation and had started phoning. Ginger had felt strange (not as observably ill as several times in the past when she had life-threatening episodes and was taken by ambulance to the hospital) but Garry thought she needed to be checked out. The ER admitted to the hospital for tests.

At the lovely funeral dinner given by the First Baptist Church of Anna in their fellowship hall, we were able to visit with the Wenger cousins and with friends Harlan and Carmen, and Gerald met and talked to a Shawnee classmate of Keith about the "olden times" in the Mississippi bottoms.

I was looking for my cousin Helen wondering if she would be helping with serving the meal, and one of the helpers said she wasn't but she was in the other room with the leisure club (is that the correct name?) that meets on Tuesday. Glancing out the window, he saw her car and said, "Yes, she is still there. Let me go get her." So soon I was also visiting with my cousin. That was good.

After the meal and the sad goodbyes to Jo, Scott, Stacy, Irma, and others, we decided to go on to Trinity Cemetery as Gerald had hoped to do. He had been wanting to see his grandfather's gravesite there. We neatened up a bit around the tombstone of Ben and Ida Glasco and their 3-year-old daughter Lela who died when Gerald's daddy was four and their son Oard, who was murdered when he was 20. Gerald's daddy never got over grieving for his brother. Daddy had been told once that a person who was involved would approach Daddy before his death, but no one ever did. (The person who was tried for the murder was not convicted.) Not too long ago, someone found an ancient newspaper clipping about the murder in a box from an estate sale and gave it to Garry, who had copies made and shared the clipping with all of us. It was a sad commentary that teenage gangs are not a new phenomenon, and young men traveled in packs back in the 1920s also and were jealous when a handsome newcomer came to the community.

At this point, we started trying to find out about Ginger thinking she was probably already home from an overnight stay at the hospital. When no one answered the phone at their home, we decided to go to Cape as she must still be in the hospital. So we did and visited with her and Garry until evening. We were there when the nurse came in and explained the doctor wanted to do an angiogram this morning to rule out any blockages. We are awaiting news.

Ken J. Boyer

We were very saddened on Saturday when we learned that Gerald's cousin Jo Boyer had lost her husband that morning. We will be going to his visitation at Anna funeral home tonight. His funeral is at 11 in the morning.

Jo, or Joyce as I called her at that time, has always been special to me because she was a beautiful teenager in a Sunday School class at our tiny village church at Ware, where Gerald and I first belonged together when we were just married while he finished his last year at SIUC. Then after he finished another year at the University of Illinois, we again belonged to the church at Ware during the three years we lived in Union County to farm the Orville Gambill farm in the Mississippi bottoms. Jo and her brother Larry Wenger were both in an Intermediate Training Union class there also if I remember correctly.

When the Boyers lived at Rochester, a Springfield suburb, we had mutual friends--Helen Ruth and Don Dillow. After they came back and lived at Anna for a number of years, the Boyers moved to Southeast Missouri. Since at that time Jo and I were both in family literacy work, I loved talking to her at family reunions.

I am so sorry the family has lost Ken.

Keith's Birthday

According to custom, the Glasco brothers met this morning for breakfast to celebrate Keith's birthday today. I debated going, but when I heard Gerald up at 5:30, I still wanted to sleep. Unless sister Ernestine is here from Wyoming or something special is up, most of the sisters-in-law prefer sleep to breakfast. However since her stroke/seisure, Ginger wakes up and wants to go to early breakfast with Garry. I always have a twinge knowing I would especially enjoy visiting with her at the breakfast, but usually my desire to sleep wins out as it did today.

Gerald and I peeled eggplant together this morning, and I have enough cooked and mashed to make a double eggplant casserole tomorrow. And I put enough to do the same next winter in the freezer along with a couple quart bags of okra to fry at family gatherings--one of my kids' favorite vegetables.

My friend Phyllis emailed me to explain that she does cover her okra to steam it in the microwave and she even eats the stems of the frozen okra she buys and cooks these days.

The two large bundt pans of zuchinni bread I made on Friday are almost gone. I liked the one best with candied pineapple mango in it as well as nuts, but some of the others enjoyed the more plain bread with just the nuts.

Brianna and Trent were by on Saturday to play with Samuel, but the kids were too excited about playing to eat much. I fixed salmon patties to go with all the garden vegetables. Geri Ann and Sam were both taken up to the camper on Friday night to visit with Bree and Trent. I forgot to ask if they made smores again.

I am sure Brian was pleased to find his crops refreshed by the wonderful rain we had Friday. I got drenched as I left Aldi's with our groceries, but I did not care. The rain felt wonderful to me. We still haven't gotten much here at Woodsong though. Gerald's wonderful canteloupe and watermelon vines are dying.

Grandkids all over the place....

Gerry and his daughter Erin are in Salinas, CA, with Southern Force for the Amateur Softball Association Gold Nationals. Since we won last year at Marietta, GA, folks are aiming for Southern Force. At that level of play all teams are very good, so we may be out in a hurry this year since the tournament has been changed from double elimination to single elimination. It will only take one slip-up to be out of the running. Gerry left at 3 a.m. Saturday from Johnston City to drive to Saint Louis and then fly onto California with practice games that afternoon and I suppose through today. There is no pool play this year, so the games begin in earnest in the morning.

Although 13 of her youth group ended up in the hospital when a fast-moving virus caught up with them in San Diego, Leslie was one of the more fortunate ones and is getting along okay--just a little weak her mother said. This was at the end of a productive and good week in Mexico where the kids interacted one-on-one with children at an orphanage.

After a second antibiotic and a final check up at a special clinic at Monroe, Elijah recovered from his serious ear infection and was able to board the plan with his paternal grandmother on Saturday. Gma Rosie is taking him mountain climbing in Newfoundland on an Elderhostel jaunt especially for one's grandchildren.

An Extended Weekend of Fun

Southern Force (18 and under) and Southern Express (16 and under) Win First Place at Orland Park

For the third year in a row, Southern Force attended the Sparks Invitational Tourney at Orland Park, and for the third year in a row, won first place without losing a game all three years. It was exciting to find out that Southern Express with players from our local towns was also there. And even more exciting when they also won first place in their 16 and under division. Southern Illinois did itself proud.

After bouncing around our decision as to when to leave for the weekend, we decided at noon Thursday to leave at 4 p.m. that day instead of early Friday. We made it off the farm at 4:30, made a couple of stops in Marion for gas and a car wash, and were on our way up Interstate 57. We stopped for supper and the night at Rantoul. And we were in Orland Park for the women's softball tournaments by 9 a.m. on Friday when Southern Force played their first pool play game of that day.

It was good to see Gerry, Vickie, Erin, and Geri Ann and the Southern Force players and parents and grandparents we knew and gradually to meet team parents we had not met before. Although they had planned to play all season, Chelsea Petty and Sojourner Moody had not been able to play until this tourney. This was Sojo's first tourney after knee surgery and she was playing with a brace. Geri Ann was also on the roster, and was actually put in three different times as a pinch runner and scored a run once in that capacity. Last year when we won the nationals at Marietta, we had a very young team, but with many of the girls returning, we had a little older team this year--but if you averaged in Geri Ann's age, we might still have been called a young team. Ha.

Jeannie had learned we were coming up, and since they had not been able to get hotel rooms over in Iowa as they had planned (where Rick was running), she and Lige and Cecelie were home alone. Well, not really alone, for they had Leah and Lucky too, of course. So they decided to join us altho Cecelie had one final swim lesson that morning. So it was after noon before they were able to take off from Freeport. She was unable to get lodging where we were, but they did get a room at Sleep Inn, which turned out to be the place Southern Express was staying.

By the time Jeannie arrived, we had played another game after lunch and gone back to our hotel. So Lige and Cecelie joined Geri Ann in our swim pool, and Jeannie and I lounged and watched them swim while we visited. Then Gerald took our swim group out to supper. As we drove around unfamiliar territory looking for a restaurant for kids, we finally let the kids choose a new restaurant, which they saw like the one Aunt Mary had taken Geri Ann to in Lake Saint Louis area--where the kids played Trivia on a handheld game contraption. We got off the highway and found a place to park and got our party of six to the door and saw the sign: Not open yet. Training session. As we prepared to turn around and head back to the car and highway, these very friendly young people held the door open and with great enthusiasm welcomed us inside. We followed their directions and they urged us to sit down as it would take minute and then guided us to our table and we were handed menus and the kids were given the game contraptions and began to play immediately. All this was done with great friendliness and vigor by the young workers. We were then told to order whatever each person wanted and the meal would be free! It turned out to be a special night for parents and friends of the employees being trained--and I guess also for anyone like us who accidently happened onto the establishment. We had excellent service and the kids and adults liked the good food, and all we spent was the tip! We left with more enthusiastic goodbyes and good wishes from the young employees. We took Jeannie and her two children back to their hotel, where they walked the dogs and swam again in their pool, and we went back to get to bed as soon as possible in order to attend the 9 a.m. game on Saturday.

We only had that one game that morning it turned out. This park welcomes dogs, so Lucky and Leah were able to join us. The play equipment for children was great and right by the park and there were even benches there in the shade to watch the games. We should have had a leisurely day. We planned to treat the kids to the big water park there that afternoon.

Unfortunately, Lige's ear had begun to give him some trouble, and Jeannie was involved trying to get hold of doctors back home to send his ear drops prescription to an Orland Park drug store. This was complicated by the phone number she'd gotten off a drug store drive- through turning out to be the phone number for a different drug store. (Don't ask. We never found out why.) And further complicated by her needing the most recently changed insurance company number to avoid paying $l00 for the drops. So her day was spent calling and calling with Rick's cell phone breaking up repeatedly until finally she got all the needed information to all the right people and she found the correct drug store (after we sent her in the wrong direction after we had lunched) and she picked up the drops and ear plugs and got back to the water park. Again we sat beside the water this time in the hot afternoon sun and tried to watch the kids and visited while they tried out all the exciting stuff at the water park. Geri Ann took on a challenging mentoring job and she was able to encourage Cecelie to get up her nerve to do everything the big kids did.

We went to IHOP for a quick supper cause it was almost time for the evening's game. When Lige could not eat his food, we realized that his ear was hurting more than the usual problem that was cured with ear drops. We went onto the 6 p.m. game with the kids and Lucky and Leah, who of course thought they were as big as any big dog they approached. It was so dry at the park that the girls were playing ball with great clouds of dust surrounding them everytime they ran, and when they slid into base, they were coated with grime. In this environment, Cecelie had entertained herself by carrying dust to the first bleacher and doing art projects there in her little corner with the dirt. By the time the game was over, Jeannie was afraid to start the long drive back to Freeport as planned without something more for Elijah, who was obviously in great pain.

It was still light for Jeannie to search out an urgent care at local hospital but driving those roads with unfamiliar turn-offs was challenging. We took Cecelie back to our hotel, where we were cooled off and I gave her a bath and shampoo but did not have clean clothes to put on her as I had not thought to get them from Jeannie's van. Finally Jeannie got what she thought was excellent care for Elijah for his pain and another prescription for an antibiotic to take care of what was now known to be an ear infection. She picked up Cecelie at our hotel, and they got back home to Freeport at 2 a.m.

She walked into church the next morning eager to hear from Leslie's youth group who were to have arrived back in San Diego after a week in Mexico. The first thing she heard was that most of the kids either had food poisoning or a virus and one was in hospital. Not only could they not go to the church service in SanDiego as planned that morning, they would not be able to come home as planned on the flight home later in the evening! However, Leslie was evidently one of the least sick ones and she and some of the kids arrived home at 3 a.m. Monday. I think the rest of the group were able to come home last night. Leslie seems to be doing all right, Jeannie said, but Elijah had to be taken to his home doctor and received a stronger antibiotic. And told do something more today if he was not better.

I failed to phone this evening. Things piled up on me. We had had a phone call yesterday while driving home from a man we know in central Missouri and he was bringing his wife and daughter over to see our house as he was here on business today--and we had talked some time back that he wanted his daughter to see our house because he thought it was just what the daughter and husband needed to build on their recently constructed lake. In all the confusion of re-entry to home life late last night, that completely slipped my mind this morning. So after lunch while I was busily involved deleting emails for three e-addresses, they arrived and really got to see the house in its lived-in condition. We had a lovely visit with them and their adorable 8-month-old baby boy, and then it was time for supper--which I didn't have to prepare very much for thanks to a delicious bowl of spaghetti that David's mother had sent last night. With fresh corn-on-the-cob and tomatoes, we had a fine meal. Moving laundry over to the dryer, etc., putting food and dishes away, etc. kept me busy, and I did not get Jeannie called about Elijah. I hope we have good news in the morning.

Getting back to our mini vacation: After seeing the two Southern Illinois teams accept their trophies Sunday afternoon, we left the ball park about 5 and headed north towards McHenry above Chicago. We ate a wonderful supper at Buffalo Grove at the Buffalo Ice Cream Shop and restaurant. I would definitely recommend it.

Gerald was able to maneuvir the Chicago traffic and then to locate the Pierces' home with his computer directions without our even having to phone for help. We got to our friends' home in time for a great evening visit and heard all about their afternoon jaunt going to a Master Gardener tour and summer picnic. Unfortunately, we did not get to go with them as they had hoped--so I missed the home that has a stuffed lion in the living room! And missed getting to ride a golf cart around a farm home with raspberry plantings and other gardens. But it was still light enough for Willitt to show us his beautiful plantings and shrubs and trees and deck in back on their acre lot and to nibble on blackberries and goose berries from the vines there.

We went to bed late and slept late yesterday morning, and then feasted on orange juice, baked oatmeal, biscuits, two kinds of marmelade, four kinds of jelly, perfectly fried bacon (like I can never do), and hazelnut coffee that I learned to juice up further with instant cocoa! We talked and talked around the table despite all the catching-up the night before. It had been a long time since we had been together as they don't get down to Southern Illinois very often now that Carolyn's mother passed away a few years ago. It is too long a trip to make easily, which is why we had never visited them. Carolyn and I were debate colleagues for two years at SIUC back in the days when men and women had separate divisions! She was also a bridesmaid at our wedding, and we have kept in touch all these many years seeing each other when we had opportunity. We enjoyed filling in the blanks since the last visit and catching up on our children's lives and updates about both families' grandchildren.

We were so stuffed from breakfast that we felt we needed to refuse the Pierces' lunch invitation and the trip around their town (actually Johnsberg rather than McHenry despite the McHenry address I have always used for them). We wanted to stay and visit longer, but the dreaded drive back through the toll roads and traffic faced us and we knew we needed to get back on the road and back down I57 to Southern Illinois. Gerald made it through the city without a problem, and I drove some in the middle of the long drive home although he drove most of the way as usual. What a wonderful luxury to have the roads we have, but the traffic gets heavier every year.

It was a good mini vacation, and I did feel refreshed and invigorated when we woke up at Woodsong this morning. Gerald spent the day getting his garden back in shape and took lots of tomatoes to neighbors and the soup kitchen.