Sue Wilken

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The holiday season is upon us, and I found myself wondering where I would find the time to get everything done. At my request, Eric brought in the Department 56 tubs. Then one night when my brain forgot how to fall asleep, I decided to make good use of my restlessness. I got up and commenced building my Dicken’s Village. I started about 11 p.m. The house was quiet, the fireplace was on, and I commenced arranging the various buildings on the baker’s shelf. Strategically placing each piece, I then returned each empty box to the tub. By the time my village was constructed, and the trees, stones, and figurines were set in place, and all the lights were working, all the boxes were in the tubs, waiting for Eric to return them to the she-shed where they remain until spring. He, of course, was fast asleep. I returned to bed shortly after 2 a.m., feeling like I had accomplished an important task, hoping I could get a few hours’ sleep before morning broke.

Late last spring, Eric was offered some reclaimed lumber to replace the deteriorating flooring of our enclosed porch. The project was completed last summer. It looked so lovely that I decided the aged and faded wallpaper had to go. We had never bothered to improve our porch when we bought the property years ago. After all, we were just tickled to have a porch. However, now it is time!

When the bright sun retired after a mild winter day, the temperature dropped leaving a glaze on the parking lot. My meeting was over and I started my car to go home. The tires spun as the machine refused to move. I shifted into 4-wheel drive, slowly backed out and headed up the hill. Ah, life with 4-wheel drive is sweet. As I drove home on the slightly glazed roadway, I thought of how things used to be. My musings took me back to going to Grandma’s house.

We are still receiving Christmas cards and letters from friends and family. I tape them to the wall and worry about touching up the paint later. Most picture cards have brief messages on them. Our family has a tradition of leaving the picture cards up on the wall for the entire year. After all, they are friends and family and it’s fun to look at them from time to time. When next year’s cards come, the previous ones are taken down and we start all over.

The other day I was line dancing with my group. As we were taking a break, the topic of clothes came up. I stepped into the conversation when a friend declared with glee, “Aren’t you glad the days of ironing are gone?” It gave me pause… are those days really over? I just bought a used iron at our neighborhood rummage sale. (For the record, we are currently in Arizona and it’s approaching the end of the season for many residents. As they prepare for travel, it’s a perfect time for getting rid of all unnecessary treasures. The general theme is nothing leaves the neighborhood; it just travels from one home to another.) My friend went on to say, “remember when we washed, dried, and folded each item, then set them aside for ironing day when we unfolded them and sprinkled water on them?” As I listened to the conversation without comment, I thought to myself, “what a great topic for my column!”

Eric and I just returned home from a trip to Arizona. We love road trips, so we chose to drive rather than fly. It’s a little less expensive, you can choose your own travel schedule, and you can get out and stretch your legs if you want to. You don’t have to ask someone to “please excuse me” if you need the rest room and you can stop and buy an ice cream cone whenever you want. Typically, we trade off driving because I know it isn’t good for a person to drive for extended hours, so every two to three hours we trade off driving. Except this year. We were pulling a trailer filled to the top with stuff. Because he is a professional driver and I am a get to work, the YMCA or grocery store driver, I let him drive most of the way. Oh, yes, I did drive for short periods of time to give him a break, but pretty much only on interstates where there’s plenty of room and no sharp turns. I cannot park when pulling a trailer, so if that becomes necessary, we must switch drivers.

Fergus Falls local columnist Sue Wilken shares stories from her life.

Fergus Falls local columnist Sue Wilken shares stories from her life.

Fergus Falls local columnist Sue Wilken shares stories from her life.