The promised recipe

Home built sourdough bread:

In an eight-cup bowl, combine
3 cups all purpose flour
1/4 tsp. dry yeast
1 1/2 tsp. salt
Stir to combine
Add 1 5/8 cup tepid water (1 1/2 cups plus 2 Tbs.)
Stir to combine.  Cover with sprayed saran wrap and let rise in a warm place for 12 to 14 hours!
Remove to a floured surface and knead slightly.
Clean original bowl, spray with a vegetable spray, and return dough to bowl.  Cover and let rise for another 3 hours.
When ready to bake:
Place heavy covered casserole (or heavy enamel pot with lid) in oven and preheat to 400 degrees.
Carefully remove pot, uncover, and spray with vegetable spray.  Roll the dough from its bowl into heated pot.  Cover and bake for 30 minutes.  Uncover and bake another 30 minutes.  When done, tip onto cooling rack and allow to cool as long as you can stand it!
This truly is a bread ANYONE can make.  Start it right after supper.  You will have amazing bread for lunch the next day!

In my opinion...

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. 

                                                                                                           Edmund Burke

Dear Mr. President elect,

I just finished reading the farewell speech delivered by President Obama.  Quite literally with tears in my eyes, I was reassured that my opinion of and support for him were both justified.  The use of language to inspire, not denigrate; the use of a call to unify, not isolate; the re-clarification of our democratic principles; the call to come together; the call to action; all resonated within my soul.  The peaceful transition of power is necessary for our republic to survive.  Therefore, Mr. President elect, I pledge to you my support for proposals you put forward to advance our nation—to uplift those in poverty—to add equality both in rights and the ability to make a living—to keep us in good standing in the international community.  I do not, will not support any effort to undermine the true bastion of democracy—our public education system.  I do not, will not support any effort to impose social values that belong in the purview of the individual.  I do not, will not, cannot support a new form of “bully platform” in which the advancement of one person or group occurs by diminishing those who disagree.

Mr. President elect, you have an amazing challenge in front of you.  I wish for you the intelligence to know that there are two sides of every issue, the grace to occasionally recognize you may be wrong, and the wisdom to surround yourself with people willing to disagree with you—for only then can advancement take place, and only then will we survive as a nation.  With all my heart, I wish you a term that truly keeps us GREAT.  And most fervently, Mr. President elect, I hope you lose your Twitter account

Flying away

It’s a Wonderful Life

When celebrating a life like Little Ruth Marie Nelson Chase Olson’s , especially at Christmas time, one immediately thanks Frank Capra.  He posed the question:  What difference could her life possibly have made?  Having had the opportunity to play Clarence, the angel in waiting, it’s only fair I get to answer that question!

Born a daughter and a sister, Ruth’s formative years began in metropolitan Goodwin, South Dakota.  Sandwiched between her two brothers and “guided” by an older sister, she quickly developed a loyalty and love for them that was boundless.  And of course, there was Miss Cookie!  An amazingly strong and resourceful woman, she raised Ruth to recognize her own worth—to make lasting friends—to fiercely protect the animals in her (and everyone else’s) care.  Miss Cookie raised four highly intelligent, independent thinkers.

Graduating from the cosmopolitan town of Watertown, (Class of 55, an amazing amalgam of phenomenal people) Ruth was off to SDSU, where she received her teaching degree AND established life-long relationships with the women affectionately known as the Knight House Girls.  These friendships would grow and deepen over time, with every effort to stay in touch through letters, cards, e-mails, and the yearly pilgrimages they would make to exotic locations like The Blue Belle Inn near Rapid City and a trip or two to holy city--Saint Cloud. 

It was back to Watertown to teach, to meet her handsome prince, to marry, and to live happily ever after.  Or so was the plan.  Mark, her handsome prince, died unexpectedly one summer while away from home.  Her “once upon a time” did not have the expected ending.  But no one was better dealing with (or teaching for that matter) plot shifts.  With the help of supportive friends, life went on.

Enter Clarence, or more specifically, the loud, obnoxious, freshman debate coach.  Suspect from the start, Ruth and friends were completely unsure as to what had just happened.  I’m not sure how, or for that matter, why, but they accepted me, nurtured me, and began a life-long friendship that even death cannot destroy!

Once upon a time becomes twice upon a time.  Ruth and Chuck meet, discover in each other a part missing from their lives, and have spent the last 38 years traveling, gardening, raising and loving their cats (whose names seemed to change periodically!) and completing each other. 

Retirement.  While a viable concept, no one would say it applied to Ruth.  Although she no longer taught, she enmeshed herself in her community.  Friends of the library flourished.  The Mellette House had its own girl guide.  The Historical Museum had an avid crusader.  Retired School Personnel had a champion.  Town Players enjoyed the fruits (and savories) of her kitchen labors.  And her friends and family had Ruth!

So that’s her life.  Did it make a difference?

Ask her husband.  Ask her brother.  Ask the nieces and nephews and great nieces and nephews.  Ask the Knight House Girls.  Ask the class of 55.  Ask her life-long friends.  Ask any of the organizations to which she gave her time and energy.  Ask anyone who was the beneficiary of one of her greeting cards.  A couple favorites stand out—there was the Easter card with the dyed eggs on the front, and when opened, you were confronted with an extremely bellicose chicken screaming “Who painted my babies.?”  And my all time favorite—the birthday card from Ruth and Chuck that very simply wished me a happy birthday—from the Jungle Stud and his Amazon Temptress! 

But most importantly, ask the children whose lives she touched, whose minds she molded, whose souls she changed.  Upon announcement of her death, over 100 responders spoke to her abilities…her deftness at “learning them” and making them feel good.  This is what one of them wrote to her only last week.

I wanted to say a few things to someone who has touched my life so profoundly.

Not only do I value the things you taught me in the classroom, but far and away the most important and valuable thing to me is our friendship and what that has become. I am always excited to email you and tell you news from life. You encouraged me to go to grad school, to complete the dissertation beast, and always make me feel like you are proud of me. You support me in my academic, and now professional, endeavors. Having you as a cheerleader means more than you may realize. I have come to think of you as part of my family and love you as such. I am angry that we won't get enough time to continue our friendship. I am also angry that something like this happened to such a beautiful person. I am so glad I walked by your classroom saying hi everyday, and am thankful for everything that came after. You have touched many lives, none more than Chuck's, but you have certainly influenced and made mine better. There should never be a day that the earth turns without you in it, but I am so happy I got to spend some of those turns with you.  

Today we celebrate our turns.  Today we give thanks for all the joy and smiles.  Today we eat and drink because she wanted us to, we put away our tears and pain for just a while, and we raise our glasses…To our Amazon Temptress.  The time has come for you to fly away.  Let us give you your wings!

The annual Christmas letter--abbreviated version!

2016

He
wrote a book.

She
enjoyed a myriad of organizations.

They
traveled.

You

Have Been

Are

and

Will Be

Loved!

May your hearts be merry and bright!

Merry Christmas

At no other time.

I sit in the basement because it is as close to sticking my head in the sand as I can get.  The ostrich syndrome has struck, with a vengeance.  I just finished listening to the weather.  Brrrrr.  Just Brrrrr.  But I’m a South Dakotan, born and raised, and a little cold weather will not defeat me.  A little snow will not defeat me.  I choose to live here and I enjoy it.  Where else is there as much grist for the complaining mill?  Not why I am in the basement.

Unfortunately, the 5:00 o’clock “local” news is followed by the 5:30 national news.  Russian interference in our electoral process.  Bombing of children in Aleppo.  Reminder of Sandy Hook.  Presidential cabinet appointments.  And I headed to the basement.  No television.  No radio.  No reminder of the evil that lives in the hearts of certain men and women. 

Alone with my computer, the dryer working to finish the laundry, the wonderful sound of the furnace warming the house, and the hum of the freezer (which has just called my name to consume a sour cream raisin bar), I find it possible to center.  Internally I rage at a foreign power affecting my very life.  I marvel at how travel to foreign shores has broadened my knowledge.  I cry for the lives of the innocent.  I thank God for the men and women who teach them.  I decry the violence that comes from guns.  Unfortunately, I “got nothin” to counter that.  I am frightened at the direction our country will turn if the president-elect gets the cabinet he wants.  I am thankful they must be approved. 

I do my best to surround myself with people brighter than I.  I do my best to surround myself with people more caring than I.  I do my best to see the good that is there and avoid the bad that exists.  I am a person of action.  Tonight, and every night until Christmas, I shall light a candle in the window hoping against hope that some will "see the light."  But today, at least until The Big Bang Theory comes on, my action shall be ostrichesque!  Thank god there is a good supply of sour cream raisin bars!

It has to be said

Sometimes I sleep.  Sometimes I think.  This morning was a combination of both.  My heart weighs heavy with the all too frequent out pouring of violence.  The deaths of innocents have seemingly brought about the death of innocence.  We are bombarded each day by the media describing the inhumanity of man.  Police officers killed.  Races profiled.  Terrorist attacks.  The most despicable deeds performed in the name of vengeance, retribution, or worse yet, religious fervor.  And we wring our hands and lament, “My God, the world is a terrible place.” 

No!

The world is NOT a terrible place.  There are terrible people.  And as trite as it seems, the musical “South Pacific” has the reason set to song.  You have to be carefully taught.  

You've got to be taught

To hate and fear,

You've got to be taught

From year to year,

It's got to be drummed

In your dear little ear

You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid

Of people whose eyes are oddly made,

And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,

You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,

Before you are six or seven or eight,

To hate all the people your relatives hate,

You've got to be carefully taught!

Teach—a verb—an action word.  We teach by our actions.  Tell someone something, they might believe it.  Show someone something, it might matter.  Model the action and it is observed, and internalized, and repeated.  Edmund Burke is credited with the quotation, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.”  By our inactivity, we teach fear.  By our acceptance of evil, we breed hatred.  By our shoulder shrugs and desire to crawl in a hole and ignore the world, we allow. 

But what?  What should we do?  What can I do?  As difficult the question, the answer is amazingly simple.  Do good.  Be good.  CELEBRATE GOOD!  MODEL GOOD!!!! 

We raise millions of dollars each year to help the helpless, feed the starving, and clothe the naked.  We do good.  We teach our children that one rule is “golden”.  We do good.  We help our neighbors and care for the sick.  We do good.  Put your mouth where your money is.  TEACH those around you.  MODEL what you want to see in the world.  But for all that is holy, Don’t “do nothing.” 

I used to play a game.  “What do you want them to say at your funeral?”  My answer, selfishly, for years has been, “I miss him.”  I think I’ll change the answer.  My mother used to say it.  My wife says it frequently.  Two of the most important women in my life can’t be wrong.  Here’s what I want said at my funeral.  “You done good!”

My tool

I've lost my tool!  I've used it as long as I can remember.  I occasionally used it in high school.  College saw an increase in its use.  I probably used it every weekend during my first year of teaching, and once I got married, I used it almost every day.  With humility, I can honestly say it never failed me.  Oh, as we've aged and changed our habits, its use declined.  But whenever I needed it, it was there!  And now...nothing.  I was preparing for a main event...a celebratory occurrence...I was in a groove--on a roll--and then--what was one thing became three! One side split left.  One side split right.  And the center shaft stayed intact.  What once was extremely utile was now useless.  Oh, I understand.  I watch the news.  I know that you can now have them replaced.  But I brought this one with me into the marriage and I thought I would take it out with me.  Alas.  I fear they just don't make vegetable peelers the way they used to!