Author: Shirleyjdietz

I'm still finding out what I'm about but I think it has something to do with writing and connecting with people and serving God. I don't believe I have to understand it all in order to do it and am pretty content with what comes my way, day by day. I believe there is a God who created all of us, the world we live in, the science we think disproves Him, well, everything. I know my natural tendency is to think I don't need God and I need to be saved from that. I know I need a savior and I'm thankful I have one. The small glimpses I get from the here and now of what my real home is going to be like when God restores it all - that's what fuels me, stirs my sense of adventure, and keeps me going. Until then, I write about what is.

Skepticism?

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If the most important time to write is when you really don’t want to do it, then I am where I should be right now.  It’s hard to figure out what the importance of it is except to give me practice for the book, the someday book…

I’ve experienced a miracle this week, definition of miracle being something I’m unable to explain scientifically and will therefore attribute to divine intervention.  A week ago Monday, up in Hayward I did some maneuver that stretched my left shoulder far more than it should have been stretched.  It was immediately sore and got worse as the day wore on.  In fact, it got worse for a couple more days even though I was trying to rest it and taking lots of Ibuprofen.

It was painful to touch. People would hug me around the shoulder and wonder why I would gasp and produce tears. I couldn’t lift my arm away from my side, or do pushing moves with my arm in the air.  The hardest thing was getting dressed! Putting on shirts – agony.  Pulling things up to my waist – sharp pain followed by burning ache that wouldn’t quiet down for a long time.  Medication made things bearable only if I was up and moving around.  That’s how I got through work Thursday and Friday.  At night I found that it’s nearly impossible to turn onesself in bed without moving both arms. And yet when lying still, just the weight of my arm in most any position, would bring on a burning ache that wouldn’t quit.  Honestly, I felt totally worn out from dealing with the pain

By the weekend my stomach was starting to hurt from around the clock doses of antiinflammatories. I had to work the night shift on Sunday and Monday and was worried that I might not be able to do some of the required moves. Driving out to the job, I decided that if there was not some sign of improvement I would look for some medical attention the next day.  I was afraid that it might be getting worse from inattention.

I have to backtrack a little to explain where the part about divine intervention would enter the picture. I’ve thought about the healing miracles recorded in scripture, especially those of Jesus that were witnessed and written about by many.  Intellectually I believe that a being capable of creating life in all its forms, could also restore life, restore function and well being, just as easily as creating it in the first place. I’ve been aware of events in other people’s lives that they called miracles but I don’t remember experiencing a healing of my own, ever.  I did think it was important to ask God for healing, I asked several friends to pray for me, and I went to the elders of my church to ask for prayer and annointing. I saw these actions as being simple things to do in obedience, perhaps a little embarrassing, but simple.  (Evidently they don’t do a lot of annointings in the church I go to now because I had three men looking frantically for some oil for fifteen minutes until they gave up and just prayed.)

I struggled through work that night, laid myself down and somehow fell asleep immediately for four hours before waking to turn my patient. It was odd that my arm didn’t hurt or even feel stiff.  At the end of my shift I went home and slept comfortably for another couple of hours.  It was such a relief to have a normal feeling arm instead of that thing I’d been wishing I could cut off because it hurt so bad. And it has remained so since then, in spite of work and chores at home that I am once again happily doing.  Something that was very bad became very good in so short a time that I see no reason not to thank God for it and I see no reason to think anything else was responsible for the change. There was no electricity or warm healing feeling creeping through my body or what have you – it was just done hurting, on the inside and on the outside.

I didn’t get a message from God that I shouldn’t tell anyone, so I am writing about it.  But I have mixed feelings. I am grateful and excited on the one hand, because I think God wants to heal today more than we let him and I want to cooperate with that.  I also know that when I heard about other people’s miracles I often viewed them skeptically, as some will do with my report.  I don’t really like people to view me and my experience with skepticism but I have to say that when I am pain free after an extended period of misery, it doesn’t matter much how other people view it.

Over zealous bartender?

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At Garmisch Resort, having dinner with my family, I ordered this… haven’t decided whether to call it a drink or a meal. Large stalk of celery, very large olive, big pickle, a green bean ??, a square of pepper jack cheese, a brussels sprout ???, a whole slim jim meat thing and a beer chaser.   I  have to say it did impress me.

things I remember, before I forget

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I am once again in my own bedroom spending the morning putting things away and trying to sort out necessary tasks after a two week trip.  I am quite behind schedule in writing about anything that happened, and in danger of forgetting a lot of it. In general, it was a good visit and I am glad to have spent the time the way we did.  I trust that relationships that needed updating or strengthening were attended to, although I didn’t get to have in depth conversations with everyone.  When I visit with the goal of spending time with people, I pretty much neglect having time alone.and that would include time to write. Maybe I should try to list the things I remember. (Placement in the list is not based on importance or chronology – just what popped into my mind randomly)

– the weekend in Bayfield that I’ve already written about
– collecting the eggs and admiring the chicken coop
– garage saling with Mom and actually buying 3 pair of nice shoes that fit
– Denny’s glasses flying off his hat and into the water behind the speeding boat
– the rather odd wedding held out behind the barn
– my new smart phone taking a dip in Round Lake
– me taking a dip in Round Lake with Evan and Claire
– watching Claire play soccer
– anxiously wondering whether Gary would pull his arms out trying to slalom start
– coffee/talk time with Mom before anyone else was awake
– donuts in abundance every Saturday morning
– getting to know and apreciate my Aunt Judy a bit more
– again admiring Judy and John’s log house
– sweet corn and tomatoes on a daily basis (good memory)
– walking in the fields (think nature) and the return view (think Walmart)
– freezing green beans, canning peaches with Mary Pat
– the morning hike at hatchery park
– biking the new path around Hayward with MP, Evan, and Rachel
– Evan bringing me Kleenex and water when I was crying
– Gary and I talking, me crying in front of all (feeling ok about that)
– listening to the crazy conversations between my husband and my Dad
– watching progress of Hurricane Isaac for days
– Mother/Daughter day at the Angry Minnow
– family trip to Garmisch for dinner
– seeing cousin Gloria at family brunch (donuts)
– the pleasant drives from and to Minneapolis in the rented Aveo with my husband
– the NutHouse in Siren, a nice stop
– AirTran flies out of the Humphrey terminal, not the Lindbergh, getting it accidentally right
– shopping trips to Walmart, late season bikini choices
– Mom’s presence in the kitchen and faithful attendance to feeding us all
– Denny’s unhurried attendance to multiple functions, soccer coach, grill master, businessman, dad
– almost surprising visits from Bob and Elizabeth, Gary and Tina and people who can’t keep secrets
– Scruffy
– everyone waving goodbye to us, the tortured frog on the driveway
– visiting my eighth grade teacher in the nursing home
– Theresa’s story about the Tom Farnsworth Christmas tree
– being stranded in the middle of Round Lake when the motor quit
– vacuuming with the new Kenmore
– ice cream at West’s Dairy
– shopping at Kaliko with MP and Elizabeth
– family dinner with Michelle, Judith and Susan, lots of hugs
– riding in the golf cart with Dad and Scruffy

I could go on more I guess but the list is sufficiently long to record that I had a memorable trip. 

New Places

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My remedy to all the sad nostalgia of late has been found. I simply go to a place I’m not familiar with so it doesn’t matter how much it has changed – it’s all new to me anyway.  I know now that I’ve not been to Bayfield or I certainly would have remembered it.  The first BIG thing about the area is the remarkable geography. Lake Superior is such a big, big water that you cannot help but be impressed by the vistas. Many of its shores are cliffs of gigantic rock outcroppings that have broken off and tumbled into the lake in eons past.  Where the rock is softer the waves have carved caves and passages.  And there are actually mountains, or what appear to be mountains (and are named as such) making up the high ground rising up in the surrounding countryside.  In these higher elevations there are numerous little farms and orchards that make good use of the growing season, raising and selling all kinds of berries and tree fruits.  Farmland, forests, beautiful views…

We went up to this area Saturday hoping to catch the 1 pm ferry across to Madelaine Island – one of the Apostle Islands – where my brother and his family were camping at a state park.  Bayfield is small and on a rather steep hill so we had no trouble finding the marina and the ferry dock.  We didn’t have the same luck finding a parking place since they don’t really provide a lot for walk on passengers.  I dropped Dennis off to get tickets and drove around town looking for a place on the street.  Several blocks away, all uphill, I parked and hurried to get down to the ferry.  At this point I would have liked to be in my shorts and hiking shoes but, short version, I was not. 
Arriving at the island side, we met my brother, a business friend of Dennis’s, and a nice family of hitchhikers all in the first half hour. At the state park for the next couple hours we (meaning the combined group of young and old) visited the beaches, the jumping cliff, the campground and the forest trail and it was all beautiful.  At the jumping cliff, my brother was the only older person who jumped the 20 feet into the bay, but all the younger ones were doing it.  At this point I would have liked to be in my bathing suit, but of course, I wasn’t.  Jumping off the rock is going on my bucket list though.  I did get my feet wet and climbed some rocks.



the “jumping off” rock is also good for reading
The park also had a long half-moon sand beach where we watched some impressive storm clouds gathering in the distance. A bird that I never did get a look at, relieved itself as it was flying over me. I felt it hitting my back. At this point I would have liked to have been wearing anything except what I was wearing.  I opted for hiking back to my brother’s campsite through the woods and was able to take pictures of these woodland creatures. They were not at all disturbed by those of us who kept watching and photographing.  
Hello Dear

The Edge

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We visited Dennis’s friend – the one who has a famously small house – Sunday afternoon.  The house is called The Edge. I don’t know why.  Maybe because it’s so small you always feel like you’re on the edge of something and about to fall out.  In 300 sq. ft. the husband, wife, daughter, daughter’s husband and 4 mo. old baby, oh and the German exchange student were spending the weekend.  As you might expect, they were spending a lot of it outside.  But it really was an exceptional little house, and they were exceptionally nice people.  The son-in-law had been out fishing earlier and had caught two huge walleye in Lake Superior.  He cleaned and filleted them and gave them to ME! 
Next we went in search of early apples, or whatever we could find.  We found a very nice little family orchard. I loved the barn, converted into store, which housed their business.  Customers were invited up two flights of stairs to the mow where the view was out of this world.  Really, you could see out of this world. I mean it.  It was beautiful. 
The afternoon concluded with an uneventful drive home, debriefing with mom and dad, and fresh walleye for dinner.  It was a good day.

Bed & Breakfast

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Cooper Hill House

 We went back to the mainland to find our B&B before dark.  It was an historic house owned by the mayor of Bayfield. He and his wife had been operating it for the last 20 years and were quite practiced and hospitable. We had the smallest of his four rooms and I’m thinking that was why he was willing to book us for only one night.  It was very nautical, in décor and in the sense that it was about the size of a ship stateroom in spite of being called the Captain’s Quarters.  One chair, the bed (may have been queensized but looked small to me), a teeny little bathroom where you could sit, shower and brush your teeth all at the same time,  and little else – but what more would we want in a bedroom?

We left our stuff and went in search of dinner.  We found it at Maggie’s, and although I didn’t get the whole story, the ambience of the restaurant suggested that she was a lady of the night.  Early brothel style I would call it, gaudy and cheerful, stuffed flamingoes hanging from the ceiling and featured in art work on the walls, string lights in primary colors everywhere, waitresses in tie dye T-shirts, and quite a few GB Packer memorabilia.  The place was packed and the food was good.

acrobatic flamingoes amid the lights
Back at the house there was really nothing to do except things disruptive to the other guests and the hosts, so we got ready and went to bed.  It was 9 pm.  Do you realize how long a night is ahead of a person who goes to bed at 9 pm?  It is interminable.  I spent a couple hours getting sore on one shoulder, a couple getting sore on the other shoulder and a couple getting sore on my back and it was still only 3 am with no light in sight.  When it did finally get light and I could stand it no longer I got up and took a shower and dressed. It was still only 5:58 am and three hours till breakfast.  Reading time, on the one hardback chair in the corner… 
Breakfast was good in a cosmopolitan way.  Here’s what we had: lots of good coffee with cream, fresh blueberries swimming in vanilla yogurt and cream, fresh pressed apple juice, and two different kinds of fresh baked muffins with apple butter and marmalade.  All of it was mixed with interesting conversation with the retired couple from IBM and the also retired couple on the motorcycle and of course, the hosts. The history of the house and their slice of small town America (where they still never lock their door) was interesting.  The whole experience almost made me wish to have a B&B business. Almost, but not really.  

Thoughts about "home"

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Hayward, Wisconsin isn’t just where I’m from. It’s always been “my town”, almost like a possession to me. All my memories from certain periods in my life are centered here.  Unfortunately, I’ve finally realized that my Hayward is pretty much in my memory and no where else. I guess I’ve been fighting it for years, trying to stay up to date with the new buildings and businesses, the roads where none were before, my parents moving from time to time and having a different house… but this time it might be too much.  It’s not that I don’t recognize anything – it’s that I do recognize it and it’s not the same anymore. The field is a forest. The forest is a parking lot. And the people who were familiar are not in their places. I don’t even look for old friends this time because I’m pretty sure if I saw them, they would look old and not like themselves. My parents don’t get out as much as they used to so when I ask them “have you seen so-and-so?” the answer is usually that they haven’t. I think I would have to be here for quite a while and work at it to lay claim to it again.

But I have to say that it is a nice place to visit.  I always feel a sense of security when I consider that even though many things change I still have family in this place.  They do a good job of living here.  They are involved in the community in many ways.  All the relatives get togther on Saturday mornings on a regular basis for donuts and coffee.  Mom and I still went to a garage sale yesterday morning. And we still have jigsaw puzzle marathons – I’ve put two together so far.

Today after Boone coffee time we are heading up to Bayfield and Madelaine Island. Brother Dennis and family are camping on the island and we’ll spend some time there before checking into our B&B (yes we are). Tomorrow morning husband Dennis has arranged a rendezvous with a friend who has an unusual house that we will tour. The house is 300 square feet so it shouldn’t take long.

The Note

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I have to say that my refrigerator has a lot less in it tonight after compnay supper.  I want it to be nearly empty when we take off  so I don’t have to come back to rotting vegetation.  The meal was maybe a bit odd, which is what happens when the menu is dictated only by what you have on hand and need to get rid of but it was passable.  When it was all on the table one guest said “Well, this looks like a really healthy meal!” and I guess I’m satisfied with that.  It seems my most frequent guests are men who have no one to cook for them – this is intentional and very good for my ego. They will eat most anything and not complain. They do come for the food but I think having some people to sit around the table with them and talk, tell jokes, and share news is at least half the draw. 

So our “everything but the kitchen sink”  meal was spinach and arugula salad, shishkebab with chicken, zuchinni, red bell pepper, onion, mushrooms and pineapple,  baked potato, steamed broccoli, watermelon, and for dessert angel food cake with strawberries and ice cream.  Everything that was left over went home with the bachelors. It feels really good to have given all that food a home, and we all had a good time.

I posted this on facebook but want to share it here too – a small note of appreciation left on a paper napkin that was really sweet.



“Shirley, you do as much as every one else all day – then fix a super supper, jump up and fix super dessert and coffee – finally sit down to eat while we sit around and you treat us like kings (spoiled brats) then clean up everything while we still gab. You know I really do appreciate you and love you to death. Your favorite Cracker”



Growing Excitement

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I’m in that good place where there seems to be enough time to leisurely choose what to pack for two weeks in Wisconsin. It’s been a relaxing day doing laundry, ironing and folding and deciding. I’ve even picked out the things I most want to see on my husband, since I will be around him most of the time. This process of packing takes a bit of thought, a lot of decisiveness and even some sacrifice. Most everything I need for 14 days has to fit in two relatively small spaces unless I want to check a bag for $20, and somehow I just can’t bring myself to do that.

Why do I suddenly discover so many clothes that seem like they must come with me? Is it because I remember  August in Wisconsin being very hot, and very cold, and very wet at different times but all in the same day?  Maybe, yes. And you never know, I might want to look GOOD so my family isn’t agahst at how evil time has been to me, and I might want to swim, or need my hiking shoes (and you know they take up half a suitcase). I could borrow sweaters and raincoats but I have ones that are my favorites and if I can’t wear them in Wisconsin why do I have them?

In my dreams I’m confident, care free and able to live in a five piece wardrobe, mix and match, which I rinse out in the sink after a couple wearings. Hey, I don’t even need that second carry-on because it all fits in my purse, next to my computer.  Everything goes beautifully with my jewelry and my one pair of shoes which are so cute and comfortable – I can’t even describe them to you (… because they don’t exist).  I walk through airports totally unencumbered. Everything I need is instantly at my fingertips, in the first place I look.

And back to reality, I would really like to get this nearly done today because the rest of the days before we go are going to be taken up with other preparations. I need to have company for a couple dinners so we don’t leave a lot of food in the refrigerator. The plants have to be prepared for neglect. The cats have to be prepared for neglect. The lawn has to be mowed one last time and prepared for neglect. All this in spare time apart from work and church and sleep and necessary wasted time. Can I do it? You bet.

Concert

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The concert that I was in angst over all last week took place on Sunday and was a total joy and success.  It was organized just well enough to get everything done but not so highly organized as to create anxiety for us ordinary participants (I don’t know about the host – he had a lot to do…). I had a good time playing the music but probably more important was meeting such a wide variety of people, from all over the Tampa Bay area.

So what do you think when you hear “Mennonite church”?  I certainly wasn’t prepared for a fully equipped sound booth and a stage that would accomodate 30 plus people all with mics, amps, monitors, etc…  They did not have any keyboards but they had a really nice acoustic grand piano which was a joy to play. No one was in typical Mennonite dress (well, who knows what typical is anymore?) The leaders of the project were two men, identical twins, who were pastor and worship leader at their church.  They had chosen a mix of very active contemporary songs, more contemplative and passionate contemporary songs, traditional hymns done a capella, and  a couple hymns with bluegrass banjo and harmonica, something for everyone.  Dennis, who usually runs screaming from the room holding his ears when there are drums and bass guitars, sat in the second row for the whole thing.

And you know I was expecting to get the door prize for the oldest one doing music but there were several men older than I was among the 30 musicians/singers.  I introduced myself to one older man – he must have been really good looking as a young guy and was still attractive for his age.  He was 88 and had ridden his three wheeled bike to the church, wearing his shorts and barefoot because it looked like it might rain. He had his umbrella ready. So for anyone who thinks there is an age limit in leading others in praise and worship, forget that.  He was right in there for every song. He was only one of several interesting characters I met, and hope to see again.



Rehearsal, all on stage except me



Me, having a great time