The Rural Life

Call me a proud aunt

2008-06-13T05:39:00.000-07:00

My nephew Jacob Hedden will be performing tonight at the Northwestern Christian Bookstore in Maple Grove. Jake is 18 and a gifted guitarist. I'm so proud of this young man, who gives so freely and has a humble, gentle spirit.

Stop by and see him if you're in the neighborhood!

State Track Meet

2008-06-06T04:41:00.000-07:00

My daughter Megan is competing in the State Track Meet today! For three years she's been one spot, a fraction of a second, out of going to this competition so we're particularly thrilled. Above is a shot of her coach Becky Straub congratulating her. Let's hope for good weather and fast legs!

Here's a bit about last week's meet in Mankato (she's the girl in the picture) in the Mankato Free Press.

Carolyne Aarsen and Athol Dickson

2008-05-30T05:39:00.000-07:00

There's only one more week to sign up for the Chapter-a-Week Summer Reading Book Giveaway—check out all the details here.

Here's a bit about this week's selections on Chapter-a-Week:

Finally a Family
Carolyne Aarsen
Love Inspired – June, 2008

A Farm – A desire to atone for past wrongs – And two people caught in the middle.

This is MY Farm:
Arrogant Ethan Westerveld could scream that from the barn roof if he wanted, but half the place was now Hannah Kristoferson's. Not that she wanted one inch of the farm that reminded her of the only father she'd ever known- and his heartbreaking betrayal. Yet according to the terms of his will, she had to spend six months at Riverbend or forfeit the inheritance. Six months butting heads with too-handsome Ethan in order to make a quick sale and a new life far away? She'd do it. But Hannah didn't count on Ethan feeling like family…or that she'd want to stay forever.

Top Pick – Romantic Times:
. . .Carolyne Aarsen delivers a spunky heroine who keeps the story fun while a warm romance brews at just the right temperature. You'll be glad to read Finally A Family (4 ½)"

WINTER HAVEN by Athol Dickson
Christy Award-winning author of River Rising and The Cure
Romantic Times: "Top Pick!"
Library Journal: Starred Review
Christian Fiction Review: Five Stars

Athol Dickson's writing has been favorably compared to the work of
Octavia Butler (by Publishers Weekly), Daphne du Maurier (by Cindy Crosby of FaithfulReader.com) and Flannery O'Connor (by the New York Times).

To read an excerpt of these new titles go to Chapter-a-Week and to join our deeper discussion go to Chapter-a-Week Chat at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/CAWChat/ where authors and readers discuss new titles together.
If you enjoy Chapter-a-Week take the time to tell a friend how to sign up. It's easy and free and a great way to find books that fit each person's particular taste.

Summer Reading Book Giveaway!

2008-05-23T04:18:00.000-07:00

At Chapter-a-Week we had such a great response to our last book giveaway that we’ve decided to make it a regular event! So we are giving away a ten-pound box of autographed Chapter-a-Week books to one Chapter-a-Week member for summer reading fun. All the details are at the Chapter-a-Week web site.

The deadline for signing up is June 6th and the winner will be announced June 13th. Get your entries in and be sure to tell your friends to sign up for Chapter-a-Week!

To qualify, the return email address must be on the Chapter-a-Week membership list. Continental U. S. residents only, please. Industry professionals should refrain from entering, and though we'd love you to share our books with your friends, these books are not for resale.Thanks and happy reading!

Head over there to check it out!
Warmly,
Traci DePree

New titles to give a try...

2008-02-08T09:13:00.000-08:00

Learning to Fly
by
Roxanne Henke

New mom, Susan Schaffer, looks down at her newborn daughter, Lily, and wonders if she has what it takes to be a great mom. Each stage seems to bring a new challenge and Susan is filled with doubt. A chance meeting with former classmate, JoJo Nash, also a new mom, gives the two mothers a friendship to help each other, and their daughters, learn and grow. As the girls approach high school graduation their mothers are faced with the question: Are the girls ready to `fly' on their own? Learning to Fly is a novel about living, loving and letting go.

Andrea Sisco of Armchair Interviews.com writes: "All the self-help books or parenting classes in the world will not score a direct hit like Henke's message...a must read for all mothers and mothers-to-be."

Forty to Life
by Dave Jackson

"He came to pay a debt he didn't owe
Because I owed a debt I couldn't pay."

Murderer. It's a word few people ever expect to apply to them. But for fourteen-year-old Ray, it's suddenly a reality. Provoked by a gang leader into the random shooting of an innocent guy, Ray now faces a forty-year sentence in Chicago's infamous prison system. As far as Ray is concerned, it might as well be for life.
In prison, Ray finds his gangbanger ties difficult to escape and even necessary for survival. Just when he's resigned himself to this new existence, though, Ray receives an unexpected gift--forgiveness. Even as he learns that the source of this forgiveness is God, Ray struggles with accepting it. And then the ultimate test comes: When faced with the man who ruined his life, can Ray extend the same forgiveness that has been handed to him?

Reviews

"Forty to Life reads ... like a documentary account ... taking you into life on the mean streets of Chicago." --Randy Brandt, contend4thefaith.org

To read excerpts from these interesting new titles go to Chapter-a-Week !

One of my all-time favorites

2007-08-17T05:29:00.000-07:00

I adore Terri Blackstock's writing. If you haven't read any of her books try her latest--TRUE LIGHT, book #3 in the Restoration Series.

Here's a blurb about it: As Oak Hollow grapples with a global power blackout, a teenager is shot in a food robbery. Jailed as the suspect, young Mark Green must prove his innocence to a community that has already judged him in its heart. But the Branning family stands with him as he fights to survive-and forgive.

And to read a chapter from this exciting new title go to ChapterAWeek or purchase it at Amazon.com .

You'll be glad you did.
Traci

Traci's next coming very soon!

2007-07-27T07:25:00.000-07:00

You've been asking about it and here it is! My next book A State of Grace book #2 in "Mystery and the Minister's Wife" is releasing soon!

Here's a little bit about it to whet your appetite:

Unveiling her deepest secret could save her daughter's life.

Minister's wife, stained-glass artist, and sometimes sleuth, Kate Hanlon discovers more than she bargained for when she visits a woman whose daughter is battling leukemia. Before she knows it she's on the road uncovering clues that could be the girl's very survival.

Book #2 in "Mystery and the Minister's Wife," A State of Grace picks up where Through the Fire (by Diane Noble) left off as Kate and Paul Hanlon learn about life in small town Tennessee. Follow Kate as she comes to know the town and its inhabitants. Admire her persistence, intelligence, and strength of character as she slowly, but surely, begins to unlock the town's secrets.

About the author: Traci DePree is the author of four novels, including the Lake Emily series by WaterBrook Press. She, her husband, and their five children make their home in a small town in rural Minnesota.

About the series: Each novel in the MYSTERY AND THE MINISTER'S WIFE series is a page-turner, a good old-fashioned "whodunit." They're books that bring truth to light, that reveal dreams, and that show that trust in God always trumps fear and anxiety.

Readers have two options for ordering this book or the series. They can join the series online from the following page: http://shopguideposts.com/product.asp?0=205&1=222&3=368 or they can call the customer service number, which is 1-800-431-2344. There, they can sign up for the series, in which case they will get every book (a new shipment every six weeks), or they can request specific books in the series (i.e. A State of Grace).

Summer time

2007-06-07T05:23:00.000-07:00

We're enjoying town life these days. The kids are out of school, which happened early this year in my hometown. Our high school is being renovated so it means an extra month of summer fun. They head to the pool every afternoon with their little sisters to play in the water and buy ice cream from concessions. They sleep in late and stay up late watching movies. Friends come and go through our door in a steady flow.The kids ride their bikes everywhere, including our five year old who adores the newfound skill.

Haley and a friend collected tadpoles from the pond outside our back door. They stood at the muddy edge, stooped over as they scooped up the squirming black babies. Only when the odor of the frog wannabes became too much to bear did I tell her to put them back in the pond!

It's been so wet here in Minnesota that I haven't had much of a chance to plant my garden, which is much smaller than the one I had in the country, though still large for a town plot. I did get tomatoes and peppers in but the frequent rains have turned them yellow so I might have to replant. I did start seeds in the house so when the right time comes I can pop those plants in the ground and be ahead of the game.

This is my favorite time of year. I simply need to remember to slow down enough to enjoy it!
Traci

Returning

2007-03-26T07:28:00.000-07:00

So much has happened since I last visited you. It's hard to know where to start. We finally moved to town and sold the farm. While it was sad to say farewell I will always hold those years in my heart as a special time. The memories of cultivating my garden, planting the orchard, fencing the pasture, birthing lambs...they are indeed golden. I recommend it to anyone looking to reconnect with life. I almost said, "simpler life" but that wouldn't be accurate, because there certainly are a lot of complications no matter where you live!

Now we're in town. Town being 4,000 people strong. I'm enjoying setting up our new home, planning our landscaping, getting the know the kids' friends better since they're over much more often, not having to drive the kids everywhere since they can walk. We joined the community center last week. For a small town, this feature is a hub of activity. With a swimming pool, ice skating arena, racquetball courts, basketball courts, exercise room and weight room, and a plethora of classes to choose from this will be a good place to connect with old friends and new. Plus, I could use the exercise! I'm getting older as my kids will attest.

Have a wonderful Monday.
Traci

School's back in session!

2006-09-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

I love the first day of school. It's so quiet and peaceful, even with two preschoolers in the house. Don't get me wrong, I adore my three older children. I really do. It's simply a matter of numbers. Five kids to one mom means a certain amount of chaos... and noise. The preschoolers actually take naps when the big sisters aren't here to keep them on the go. I even get the house clean. And when the afternoon comes and the girls come home I'm ready to welcome them home and talk about their day.

Since moving to the country I've had a ritual on the first day of school--my dear friend Marla and I have coffee. It's a pretty simple ritual, actually. Sometimes we go out, sometimes we stay in. This year we had coffee at my house. This is our tenth year of coffeeing. We've seen a lot together. Job changes. Emergencies. Deaths in the family. We've sat around campfires together, reroofed garages together. We've treated each other to birthday treats and flowers. We've watched each others' children grow up, becoming gifted in their various offerings. She's always there for me. I know that if I'm down I can call on her. She does the same.

So, while the first day of school means a quieter home and more contemplation it also means time to reconnect to those who are there through the busyness of life. Because sometimes we just need to do that--to remind ourselves that we're still human through all of this.

I'll be back!

2006-08-18T06:25:00.000-07:00

I know it's been forever since I've blogged. Suffice it to say this has been one of the craziest summers ever. With moving (we still haven't sold our current house, but we're closing on the new house September 6th), our two eldest daughters going to Costa Rica with Global Expeditions for the month of June, editing several books, and closing a deal on my next book series, I've barely had time to keep up with laundry much less blogging. Hang in there though. I should be back at it once we're moved and my four eldest are back to school.

I'll tell you more about the upcoming Guideposts Books series in blogs to come, and I'm working on another series proposal that I'm very excited about.

Now, back under my TO DO pile! In the meantime here's a photo of the view from our window.
Warmly,
Traci DePree

Looking for a slice of Lake Emily?

2006-05-12T07:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm stressed. I'll admit it. We've decided to move to town. We've lived in the country for ten years and have truly enjoyed it. We turned our little farm into a gorgeous paradise with flowering crabapple trees and lilacs and Nanking cherries and plums, an apple orchard and more rhubarb than we could ever eat, grapes come fall and asparagus in spring. We've worked endless hours on the house and outbuildings to make them beautiful. But with five kids and two increasingly busy careers, and many many trips to town for soccer games and tennis matches, we've decided that a new season has come upon the DePree clan, a season of deeper connection to the community that we love.

So, what is my stress about? you ask. Well we still haven't sold our little paradise. Have barely even had lookers. If only someone would come take a look we know they'd be as enamored as we are. So I'm learning a lesson about faith. If we build it they will come, right?

I'm praying! Believe me, I'm praying. In the mean time I'm reminding myself that when I'm seventy none of this will matter any more! Just getting there is the hard part.

So, if you know someone who's dying to move to the country, to have a quieter life where their children can experience the joys of raising horses and bunnies and cows and you can spend time in the garden drop me a line.

A New Season

2006-04-27T12:17:00.000-07:00

I have loved living in the country these past ten years. It has given me the peace and solitude I craved. It offered a simpler, more earthy connection. It has taught me how to reach beyond myself, how to be a neighbor.

While I have enjoyed living here I also know that there are seasons in life. The past ten years have been a lovely season, but my heart has started looking for a new future, a new season.

My children and husband have been wanting to move to town for a while now. They want to be closer to the activities that keep them connected to the community. But I was the holdout. How could I leave what I'd come to love? But I've come to realize this love has become cumbersome for me. I was holding on too tightly. Blind to my own loneliness.

With five children and two busy careers, I couldn't dedicate myself to the time it takes to maintain a rural place. Hours planting trees and a garden every spring, hours of mowing every week, snow removal, animal tending--it all adds up, and while it's romantic it's also a lot of work!

I'm ready to spend more leisure time with my children. More time taking walks, playing tennis (I'm an avid tennis player--I love it), having friends over, being a member of the community, time to sing, time--these are the things I want in my life in this season.

So, we're taking a leap of faith and moving. Not to the suburbs lest you think I've betrayed my Lake Emily roots, but to a small town of 4,000 where I know many of the faces I meet. When I go to the grocery store there's always someone there to chat with and to catch up with.

It will be a good thing.
Traci DePree

D-Day!

2006-03-20T17:39:00.000-08:00

Today is March 20th! Time to send off those letters to WaterBrook asking for more Lake Emily books. If you forgot to mail it, it still isn't too late. Remind those who love Lake Emily to send their letters to Dudley--let's see how many letters we can send his way. I've heard from many, many folks saying they are planning on letting him know they want more books in the series.

I'll be interested to hear from him just how many of you wrote in.
And thanks again to all of you. This is truly your mission and I am indeed grateful for such a loyal group of readers. It humbles me to the core.

Warmly,
Traci DePree

Prom Dress Shopping

2006-02-24T06:46:00.000-08:00

My eldest daughter is a junior in high school. She's also a member of student council, which means she's on a planning committee for Prom. The theme this year is "An Evening in Paris." They've decided what gifts to give attendees, the decorations to order (think Eiffel Tower and twinkling lights over cafe seating), what band to hire... She's loving being at the center of this activity. It's like a wedding without the groom. Well, kind of.

Last week my daughter brought me a list of projected costs and goals for details like "getting my hair done" and "boutoniere" and of course "the dress." It isn't cheap. This doesn't take into account her boyfriend's costs, like a limo (that so many of the teens use) or eating at a fancy restaurant before the dance, although she did add a portion for her to help with the meal. She's such a liberated girl.

I, being the stingy mother that I am, looked at her list and said, "I'll give you your regular clothing allowance between now and then--that should help."

To which my daughter sat with mouth agape. "This is PROM! You have to contribute something!" Then she did the only thing teenage daughters can do in such a situation. She appealed to the good nature of her father.

"Of course we'll help with your dress." He's such a softie when she uses the endearment "Daddy."

I had read in the local paper a few weeks back about a woman in town who sells once-used Prom dresses in her basement. People donate their dresses to her. She cleans and presses them and puts them on racks in her basement. No dress is more than $50 and I'm told she has some really cute garments to choose from. The money all goes to a charity. Isn't that a great idea? So, this stingy mom is taking her seventeen-year-old to have a looksee.

Pray that we find something acceptable!

Traci

A Mission with a Deadline

2006-02-20T07:10:00.000-08:00

I have recieved literally hundreds of letters like the following from readers asking for more Lake Emily books:

"I already emailed you once but have to let you know how blessed I have been to get lost in Lake Emily and meet my new friends. Wish I lived there too. Maybe I'll get invited to dinner at Virginia's home and can help hang up some clothes on the clothesline. I have loved doing that since I was a child in Chicago and my mom hung her clothes out. When we finally got a home of our own the first thing I requested was a clothesline. Nothing smells better than fresh sheets from the clotheline. Please keep writing about this wonderful place and these friendly people."

"Discovered your books on Amazon.com and bought and read all three--almost in a row! Loved them. The characters are normal, down-to-earth people, whom I think about even when I am not reading! Hope you are in the midst of a 4th book, and then a 5th, and a 6th, and a 7th...Thank you!"

I would love to write more Lake Emily books. In fact I have ideas bubbling, including twins for Trudy and Bert, a love interest for David Morgan, and more craziness for Lillian Biddle.

Here's the rub--my publisher needs to get on board! The books have sold amazingly well, especially for a first-time author. But the publisher has moved on to the next big thing.

My idea is this. If WaterBrook Press recieves hundreds (or thousands) of letters asking for more Lake Emily books, odds are they'll take notice. This is no guarantee, but it's worth a shot. I can't do it. I need you!

So, here's the mission. Tell all your friends, family, book club members, library patrons, and church libraries who've enjoying Lake Emily that we need them. Even if you didn't purchase a copy, that doesn't matter. A book borrowed from a friend or a library is still a book read.

Send your letter to:

WaterBrook Press
Attention: Dudley Delffs (more Lake Emily books!)
12265 Oracle Blvd., Suite 200Colorado Springs, CO 80921

If everyone MAILS their letter ON March 20th, they should all arrive at about the same time!
We'll keep our fingers crossed.

Thanks, guys!
Traci

February 8ths Past

2006-02-08T06:22:00.000-08:00

Today is February 8th again. Not a significant day for most, but for me it is my 42nd birthday. That number sounds so old to me. Yet I feel the same as the day I turned 16. Not energy-wise, mind you; on that front I feel 82 chasing after a four- and one-year-old all day. But in my heart I'm still that same youthful, thin girl.

As I think back on past February 8ths, I recall the second grade birthday party I invited friends to but failed to mention to my mom. Until guests arrived at the door in dresses and bearing presents. The year after we moved across town I had an ice skating party with both old friends and new. In ninth grade my mom broke her arm on my birthday and spent the night in the hospital. Another year our car slid into the ditch as we returned friends to their homes on a snowy February 8th night. We waited in a country house for the tow truck to rescue us. Mom would take just me out to a fancy dinner on my birthdays--that was special. Then after I was married, John and I were living in the U.S. Virgin Islands. We didn't have much money, but he took me to an open air restaurant in Christiansted and afterward we walked the boardwalk. My 40th birthday--no one remembered and I spent the day in tears.

Memories. Some bad, some good. I don't have a single memory of my father being present or even sending a card on my birthdays. Yet I know he loved me. He showed me in other ways. I suppose birthdays are a microcosm of life--some days are vivid, others gray and rain streaked. But all working together to form who we become.

I hope your days are more vivid than gray and if they are gray I pray they are turning you into a brighter creation.

Warm wishes,
Traci

A Trip to the Emergency Room

2006-02-01T06:44:00.000-08:00

We like to have campfires in our backyard. Shortly after we moved to the country, my husband dug a firepit and surrounded it with bricks. He made benches from logs and old tractor seats he bought at the Pioneer Power Swap Meet one year. We gather fire wood from the windbreak--we have stacks of it out there, drying for the past couple of years. I make sure there are plenty of marshmallows, Graham crackers and Hershey bars on hand, and the kids invite friends over for a night of star gazing and conversation.

Last summer there was one such night. My daughter Caitlin had twenty or more friends over till late into the night. They drank hot chocolate and had a good time.

The next morning, my four-year-old daughter Willow asked if she could play outside. She often goes to swing by herself on the swingset or plays with the newest batch of kittens. Then I heard a scream. It was shrill and agonizing.

Haley, my eleven-year-old, shouted, "What's wrong with Willow?"

I ran outside and even though Willow's screams weren't intelligible I knew she'd burned her feet. She'd walked right through the white ash left from the camp fire of the night before. I rushed her immediately to the bathroom, sat her on the counter and ran cold water on them. Instantly blisters had formed across the bottom surface of both little feet. While my older daughter stayed with her, making sure she kept her feet in the cold water I called first my husband, then the hospital to let them know we were on our way.

My seventeen-year-old drove while I held Willow in the backseat, cradling her feet in cold cloths. Willow was still screaming, an unending, tormented scream as I carried her into the emergency room that was silent of any other patients. The nurses and doctors led us into a room that was set up with a big bowl of ice water and cloths. We put her feet in, but the wails continued.

For over an hour she cried. Nothing eased the pain. They gave her a shot of Tylenol 3 but that took a while to kick in. So I held her on my lap with her feet wrapped in ice water drenched towels. One nurse, a young man with a daughter about Willow's age, talked so kindly to her throughout the whole ordeal. He told her about his daughter; he got her some PlayDoh in an attempt to distract her from the pain. He never left her side, always spoke sweetly to her. Another nurse, a neighbor of mine, was there too, offering kindness to me. "It could've happened to anyone," she said. I needed that.

The doctor came in several times to look at her feet. Finally he decided to lance the largest of the blisters that covered the entire bottom on one foot. The nurse asked if I wanted to leave or stay--they didn't want me freaking out. Then they held her down on her tummy, the male nurse pinning both shoulders to the bed as she yelled at the doctor, "I don't like you! Don't touch me! What are you doing?!" Poor baby. Shortly after that the Tylenol kicked in. Her crying stopped instantly. She looked up at our neighbor nurse and said, "I feel better now." Everyone in the room smiled.

She had second degree burns across the whole bottoms of her feet, big nasty blisters. I had to change the dressings daily until it was healed. She crawled on her knees everywhere she went because it hurt too much to walk. But thankfully healthy pink skin soon grew back. She's her normal, vivacious self again thanks to the kind nurses and doctors who not only saw to her physical needs but who cared.

More later,
Traci

Darvin's Surprise Birthday Party

2006-01-26T09:07:00.000-08:00

Do you remember the TV show Cheers with Ted Danson and Kirstie Alley? The place where everyone knows your name? My local diner is the non-alcoholic version of Cheers in my hometown. When I come in the door, just like Cliff Claven's fan club, everyone says, "Hey, Traci." I love it!

I have an in, however. My neighbor and best friend Marla is the head cook. Bernie and Theresa are usually the waitresses on any given weekday, both great ladies. Marla can be found in the back with her son Joe, teaching him the trade of cooking for the masses. Even Marla's mother-in-law works at the diner at the ripe old age of...75 or 80 doing dishes. Grandson Joe helps her lift the heavy stuff. Dorothy says, "I'm just working for drug money." Which, given hers and her husband's health, isn't too far from the truth.

Then there's Darvin, the owner and restaurant butterfly. He floats from table to table, greeting patrons, telling the latest joke he heard or that a friend sent via the internet. He'll give you an update on his grandson's doings--all you need do is ask. Darvin is on the city council; he can be found at ballgames in police uniform for volunteer duty (the game is free this way!); he's on the ambulance crew, owns a tanning salon down the hall in the mall and if that isn't enough he decided he needed to get some exercise so he took on a morning paper route!

A few years back, the crew at the diner decide to throw Darvin a birthday party. Seems simple enough. But these folks are creative.

In the basement of our mall is a large reception room that Darvin rents out for parties that he also caters. When he got back from one of his ambulance runs Marla told him a woman had called wanting to throw a big party on such and such a date (that happened to be Darvin's birthday). He complained but all of his staff claimed they had prior plans. Not one to pass up the opportunity of extra cash, Darvin still took the gig.

Amazingly the woman never called while Darvin was at the restaurant. He'd be at the nursery school delivering their daily lunch to the preschoolers, or on the air with KRBI (the local radio station) to give them the daily lunch specials, usually accompanied by a story or two. If there's one thing Darvin is it's a story teller. Darvin was puzzled about this mystery woman. He thought he knew everyone in town, but he'd never heard of her. Still, he ordered and prepared the food, got the room ready. All by himself, mind you, because the staff was previously occupied.

When the time came for the party Darvin was exhausted and none too happy to be working solo. You can imagine his surprise when he discovered that the party was for him! Not only had he done all the work, he footed the bill! It's still a sore spot for the guy--so don't tell him I told you this story!

Poor Darvin. We love him though.
More later,Traci

My Four-Year-Old

2005-11-21T08:43:00.000-08:00

I just had to share.

Yesterday my family and I stopped at the Chinese restaurant in town after church. As we sat eating our Lo Mein, our four-year-old noticed that the man at the next table wore an eye patch. Of course she was curious, so she turned to me and my husband and said, "Why does that man wear a patch on his eye?"

To which John quickly said, "Shh, we don't need to talk about that right now. You just mind your own business."

She obeyed. Then a few minutes later she said, "Mom, I have a joke for you."

"Okay...," I said. Willow often tells lame jokes.

"Why did the cow wear an eye patch?"

Ah, the mind of a four-year-old!

Only Jed Clampett Calls it Possum

2005-11-14T11:51:00.000-08:00

My husband cringes whenever I say the word opossum, even though Mr. Webster agrees with me. Possum is slang, not that there's anything wrong with slang. Much of our language today evolved from slang. I just like to say opossum. Lately I've had a lot of cause to use the word.

First, I looked out our back door's window to see a large critter helping itself to our outdoor cats' food a couple weeks ago. Once he'd ambled off I brought the food inside and have been feeding the cats in smaller portions once a day so it doesn't sit out all night.

A couple of days later I told Haley, my eleven-year-old, to take the trash to the road for pickup the next morning. She came in saying, "No way, MOM, there's a huge RAT in there and it's looking at me!"

I said, "Are you sure it's a rat? A rat would run away."

I went outside to have a look, and there burrowed into the middle of a bag of trash, looking straight out at any passersby, was a huge opossum. Both of us were freaking out. The teenagers came out to have a look but didn't offer to help. We poked sticks at it. But it stayed frozen in there with its mouth open, its little sharp teeth quite visible from where I was. Even Willow and Jem came out for a peek. We prodded it with a stick but it remained unmoving.

I even called my neighbor's daughter to see if her dad was home--he has a shotgun. But he wasn't home so I was left to figure out what to do. I reasoned that possums were known for playing dead so odds were it wouldn't attack me.

SO...I hoisted the garbage barrel to the road. I must admit I was panicky the whole time I was carrying that thing. Then I put a heavy bag of trash on top of it--you know, the bags of trash you have when you clean out the fridge!

The next morning the trash bag was still there so I wasn't sure if he'd managed to burrow himself out, but the garbage man didn't jump around or anything when he came to take the trash away so the animal probably did get away. Then about a day later as I was driving to town I noticed a dead opossum on the highway in front of our house.

I thought that was the end of the story, until last Wednesday when I came home in the evening to see a large animal under the birdfeeder in our front yard. You guessed it, the opossum was back or at least a relative of the deceased varmint! We watched him eat black oil sunflower seeds off the ground, then my husband tried to get a photograph and it took off. Those suckers can run--slower than a rabbit but faster than a porcupine!

What was really funny was that very next night as I was driving through town I saw another one waddling onto the front lawn of a friend's house.

Those city folks have nothing on us for excitement!

Hugs,
Traci

Football Legends

2005-11-02T07:13:00.000-08:00

My daughter was at a friend's house on Halloween this Monday. Trick or treaters came and went while the starting lineup for our high school's football team played poker in the basement. It's become a big trend amongst the teenage set in our town--playing poker at each other's houses on a weekly basis. It reminds me of "Bridge Night" we always heard about on Leave it to Beaver. "Oh, Ward."

After a while a little boy with a cast on his leg came to the door. "Trick or treat!"

Diane, the mom of the house, went to pass out candy and asked, "How did you break your leg?"

The boy answered, "Playing football."

She could see that he was feeling down about not being able to keep playing for the season so she said, "You wait here."

She disappeared down the hall while the boy and his folks waited. A few minutes later the starting lineup for the football team came to the door. The boy's face lit up. In a small town like ours the players on the high school team may as well be NFL members--they're famous! Even I say "hi" to boys who have no idea who I am because I've seen them on the field.

The team signed the boy's cast with wishes for a good recovery and lots more football to come. He left with a grin on his face that candy could never have brought.

More later,
Traci

October Days at Football Games

2005-10-31T12:11:00.000-08:00

We usually go to at least the homecoming football game every year, but we hadn't had the opportunity to go to any games this year. With a one- and four-year-old at home it was just too hard to find the chance to get away, especially since our three older girls all wanted to be at the games themselves and actually HAD to go to the games to meet their pep band requirements to get good grades in band. (Both our seventeen- and fifteen-year-olds play percussion so they're a vital part of the pep band.)

And now that our seventeen-year-old has her first boyfriend (BF), who's a starter and plays wide reciever on the team, we were especially eager to get to at least one game. Our high school's football team is undefeated this year and the BF is often in on the action, scoring touchdowns, interceptions, etc.

This is the first time we've had the whole BF scenario to deal with and I must admit we were nervous wrecks about the whole thing. We made sure Cait checked in with us often; we asked who else would be with them, wanting them to be with other friends as much as possible to avoid make out time (MOT). John insisted that Cait bring the BF home for supper to get to know each other. He took the kids canoeing down the Minnesota River so they spent the whole day together. On weekends, John would wait in the dark of the living room for Cait to come home even a minute late for curfew so he could ground her. Like I said, we were a wreck. Finally Cait said, "You're going to have to trust me. I'm going to have to grow up eventually, and maybe I'll even make mistakes. But it's the only way..." How can you argue with that? Well, what we've come to discover is that the BF is a pretty nice guy who loves his mom--a definite good sign!

So, last Tuesday we asked our eleven- and fifteen-year olds to babysit and headed to the game. It was chilly in the outdoor stands. A house in the distance had a sign in lights that read, "Go Giants!" The local radio station was set up in the booth behind where Cait and the BF had taped our blankets to save our seats.

Neighbors gathered, most of them friends and acquaintances I've come to know in the past ten years. Mothers of the players proudly wore buttons bearing their son's photos as well as blue and gold garb. The cheerleaders bounced and shouted from their spot in front of the crowd. A quartet from the high school sang the Star Spangled Banner and the game began. The opening push started with a 78-yard run by our quarterback for a touchdown--I was sitting near his mom who shouted and cheered as tears welled in her eyes. Soon the BF scored his first touchdown and I was yelling my head off. I could hear his mother doing the same beside me! By the end of the game my throat was sore. We won by a huge margin--57 to 7, as I recall.

There's nothing like sitting amidst a crowd of people you know and greet on a daily basis and rooting for the same team. It's downright energizing. Old and young alike gather for the event. Fathers with infants in carriers and grandmothers with teacup poodles tucked in their winter coats--all come to share the experience.

We were so psyched that we decided to take the whole clan including the four- and one-year-old to the game on Saturday! The four-year-old loved every minute. She cheered and shouted alongside me and the one-year-old got passed around amongst the girls' various friends. I saw her all of ten minutes during the game and she was happy, albeit exhausted, by the time we got home. The team won again!

Next Friday is the deciding game--if we win we'll go to State! I'm trying to figure out how I can get away for that one too!

More later,
Traci

Anna Mae's puppies

2005-10-28T08:09:00.000-07:00

I have a neighbor named Anna Mae. She's a widow with a definite opinion about things. She and her son raise puppies that they sell via the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Last night as we visited during our monthly Extension meeting Anna Mae told us the following story.

A man called inquiring about the puppies. He said, "My kids have been begging and begging us to get a puppy, but I tell them we just don't have enough space for a dog in our small suburban yard. So I told them they could get a chicken."

Being a truck driver he couldn't make the trek from the Cities himself, so the wife and kids headed down on a school day. An hour and a half's drive for a chicken.

They pulled into Anna Mae's driveway and the eleven-year-old eldest daughter got out and said, "Where's our chicken?"

Anna Mae led them to the kennel where seven adorable Golden Retriever puppies gazed with wide eyes and wagging tails. The kids started bawling because Dad had tricked them and decided a puppy would be better than a chicken after all.

Isn't that sweet? And it made Anna Mae's day to be part of their big surprise.

More later,
Traci

Don't Hug Me

2005-10-10T08:53:00.000-07:00

My husband really loves me. Last week he heard an ad on our local radio station for an upcoming musical in Montgomery, Minnesota. How many men do you know who will act on such information by calling their wives? Well, mine did. The play, entitled Don't Hug Me, was advertised as a Minnesota original--a cross between Fargo and How to Speak Minnesotan with music thrown in.

So on Saturday evening we got dressed up, left the kids at home, and headed to Montgomery. When I'd called to order the tickets, the woman on the other end had actually heard of me. (I tell people I'm only famous in my hometown, but Montgomery is a little drive from home...)

Hilltop Hall is a restored pavillion that holds regular dramatic performances and it happens to be above my favorite small town bookstore--Next Chapter Bookstore. It was a packed house, neighbors come out to see neighbors and enjoy a fun show in the meantime. I even ran into a friend from Faribault that I hadn't expected to see. The play was funny, well done and enjoyable overall.

Every small town needs a center like this (and a bookstore like Next Chapter)--it is more than a place to gather and socialize, it's a bit of history that hasn't ended in this modern day. That's a real treat! I take my hat off to the folks at the Montgomery Arts and Heritage Center--they've found vitality where other small towns are fading.

On the drive home John confessed plays aren't his favorite thing (he'd just as soon watch TV!) but for me he'd go again. Now isn't that love? At least here in Minnesota it is!

More later,
Traci