The 4th Is My 1st

Independence Day - aka the 4th of July, is my first best holiday. It took me fifty years to realize it. Now I'm at peace with the realization - along with the fact that Summer is my fave season. Oh, I tried to pretend it was Fall. Maybe it was when I was younger. Now that I'm old and always chilly, Summer suits me. Deck time, flowers, green grass, and trees, I love it all.

My love affair with the 4th of July has been building for a long time. I believe it's because it's more low-key than holidays like Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter that require food, gifts, and housekeeping. Independence Day, even when people visit, seems less frantic when it comes to prep. And decks and garages are in play for entertaining.

In my early years, when dusk hit on the 4th we took comfy blankets and sparklers to the Atlantic Golf and Country Club. There we'd park along the road and traipse to somewhere on number 8 or 9 fairway so we could gaze down to number 1 and 8 greens. (If course layout serves me). There we'd lay out our big wool Hawkeye blankie near all the other families. The excitement would build as the fireworks crew periodically shot off sonic booms to prep the crowd. When darkness fell, the show and Ooohs and Ahhhs began. In the distance, we could see the City of Atlantic fireworks shooting near the airport. A great piece of Americana happening across our great country.

The year I graduated from high school, three friends and I decided to get away for the 4th. Somewhat of a good girl, I was ready to be "bad". The drinking age was 18 so liquor was in the works for sure. Cherry vodka anyone? I had decided it was time for me to try pot - good old Iowa ditch weed that I secured from a classmate. Robyn, Chris, Trish, and I drove Trish's VW bug up to Lake Okoboji and checked into our very own hotel room. So grown up!

One note - when I was younger, my allergist had noted that I was allergic to hemp. I didn't put those two things together. I lit the joint up as soon as we checked into the motel but don't remember feeling high at all. Imagine my surprise when I began to get a rash and fever instead of a buzz. Uh oh! I ended up visiting the Emergency Room in Spirit Lake. The doc asked if I had eaten shellfish or anything new. Nope! I was not admitting that. I got major Benedryl and went off to enjoy the rest of the weekend pot-free. Lesson learned.

The rest of the weekend we enjoyed Okoboji, visiting the iconic amusement park, Arnolds Park, and partied at the Roof Garden. There we ran into - guess who? The Atlantic cool boys who were up visiting our classmate Jack Bunce whose family had a place on the lake. It was a fun trip - except for the rash/doctor part. I made the mistake of telling my older sisters about my pot snafu a year later. Of course, they outed my plunge into drug use to our parents. They just laughed.

I've blogged about the many (around 15?) years we spent Independence Day at Ridgeland, WI, thanks to the hospitality of the Huston family. Mike Huston, our wedding best man, invited us to his family's "home place" after we graduated from college. His parents Clark and Joyce must have actually enjoyed being invaded by a group of young people. And later young parents and families.

Beloved outhouse - Kelli and Amy Ridgeland

We never quit going until our children got old enough for us to need to stay home for local activities. Early on, the Huston place was rustic with the two-seater outhouse and no running water. At first we slept in a huge tent. Later we had family tents and campers. The highlight was tubing the nearby Apple River whilst guzzling beer. My dad provided fireworks for the event as he'd stop at a stand in Missouri when driving back to Iowa from the Florida winter. Our own little display.

Gang at Ridgeland - thanks Clark and Joyce! 

Lucky for us, when we stopped going to Ridgeland was right around when we moved to our second Creston home which was right in the heart of the best 4th of July activities. We had a great view of the fireworks and could walk around the lake to McKinley Park that hosted a carnival and talent show. Each year we invited people over to sit in our driveway for fellowship and fireworks. Later, when our neighbor's trees grew large, we sat in their driveway. It was great! The only downside was our pets did not like it. One year we finally found Moki under Amy's bed downstairs.

2016 Yankee Doodle Pops with roomie Joan

Since moving to Des Moines we've enjoyed new traditions. Last year Paul was recovering from prostate cancer surgery so we took it easy. This year I'm happy to report his recovery has been as good as we could have ever hoped. Periodic checks have shown no detectable cancer. Thanks to Dr. Gellhause at the U of I and staff.

2017 July 3rd downtown bike ride with my honey

This year many traditional activities are canceled as we try to stamp out COVID 19. Once again we're laying low for good reason. I bet we'll see some fireworks from our deck.

I look forward to many more years of celebrating our great country. 













 

Old Green

I got a new chair. That's big for me - change is hard. If you've been to our house both before our move to West Des Moines and after, then you've seen me sitting in my chair - Old Green. It wasn't always old, but earned the moniker because we purchased it many years ago from Coen's Furniture, Creston's wonderful local store - owned by a great family.

I've never been a recliner fan. That probably comes from my incompetence in working the mechanisms to make recliners comfy. Mom always had a chair with an ottoman in their second Atlantic home, a nifty condo on the Back 9 at the Atlantic Golf and Country Club. That chair was so comfortable through the years it influenced my chair choice. Mom lives on through me in picture placement (don't hang them high and be eclectic) and furniture.

Because Paul and I lived close to Atlantic and because we weren't rolling in $$, we were fortunate (or cursed) to be the furniture hand-down recipients. Early in our marriage, sadly, my Atlantic grandparents passed away. They had just outfitted an apartment at Heritage House, an Atlantic retirement home, with furniture from their condominium (my grandpa, Bubba never mastered the pronunciation of that word, "condoninium?")

Thanks to proximity and my grandparents, Paul and I received a colonial-style plaid couch with blue tones (my grandmother, Momo, and I share a love of blue), and several Ethan Allen pieces including a dining room table with chairs, and the cabinets that we still have today. We sold the table/chairs with our Creston home. The couch - a heavy fold-out wore out long ago. Sorry to our buddies that helped carry it into and out of our basement on Port Road. That was a labor of like and pizza payment! 

Dad's chair looked like this when we got it. We recovered in a darker red stripe

As I mentioned, Creston has a great family-owned furniture store that we were happy to support. They always had plenty of stock to pick from and competed with the big city stores on price. After we moved to our second Creston home, the time came to replace Dad's old chair (yes we got hand-me-downs from my parents too). I'd had it re-upholstered once, but the springs were poking - the cushions were finally shot after 50 years of use.

Old Green was wide enough for both pets

That's when I picked out my green chair with a matching ottoman. That chair hugged me through many highs and lows in my life:

• When I took on increased job responsibilities as the landfill director in Union County, that led to some insomnia. Middle of the night chair sitting was required. 
• I created Amy and Jud graduation slide shows sitting in the chair, occasionally shedding sentimental Mom tears carefully selecting photos and music. 
• The chair soaked up many grief tears especially when Dad died - leaving me parentless. Hard even at age 50. 
• Countless hours of watching TV, movies, funny, sad, educational, scary....transitioning from watching kid shows to binge-watching things like Entourage with our kids - to today's Netflix  
• Genealogy work - tracing my roots online never leaving my living room
• Real work as I was fortunate to be allowed to telecommute nearly every Friday during the eleven years I worked for DNR, even after we moved to West Des Moines from Creston eight years ago. 
• The chair was a comfort during illness - migraines, shoulder, issues, and more. When I couldn't get comfortable in bed it was a comfy alternative.
• The pets loved the chair too. Odie and Kitty (real name Samantha) would lay across the back or on/by my lap. They loved it too. So much the Odie dug and snagged the cushions for that "lived in" look. 
• I could go on but you get the idea. I'm willing to bet you have a piece of furniture you connect with like that too. 

So why replace it? We are updating our living space and it was "one of these things is not like the others". My new chair is lovely and well made. It doesn't yet fit me like a glove and we haven't bonded. Perhaps that's for the good because I really don't need to spend my days and nights in a chair! These days I stand up at our kitchen bar and sit there for some of my work. In nice weather, I can even be found under an umbrella at our deck table. 

I hope you have someplace comfy to settle in/on at your place. Especially in these unsettled times, we all need some comfort. 

 

New chair has no name yet. A little stiff - needs to warm up to my buns...

I hope Old Green goes to a good home who will enjoy her comfort as I did. Not college dudes! haha. 

She Called Me Les

San Antonio 2011

Bobbie McFee was one of the first people I met when Paul and I moved to Creston. Rejected by each of the 28 or so sororities when I attended rush as an 18-year-old at Iowa State University, I found my true sisters with Beta Sigma Phi, a women's sorority as a 28-year-old. Bobbie was a new-found sister back in 1987 who later became much more. And she called me Les - a name only my besties use.

After completing the DSM half marathon (walking) Bobbie didn't get the "wear your medal" memo

We're devastated to think this person who was so full of life could pass in a blink with no warning. We are so sad for her husband Jeff - two people who meshed so beautifully. Jeff met Bobbie through her Creston roomie Retta Baker, at Northwest Missouri State University where Bobbie earned her degree. Jeff was a persistent farmer from Creston who attended the local community college, eventually earning his 4-year degree later from Buena Vista.

Those two were truly meant for each other. I keep picturing them swing dancing together - not always technically perfect, but they knew each other's moves and would "go with it" adjusting to what each other did. They were fun to watch - having fun and you could see the love they shared as they moved around the floor.

What a cute family! 

We mourn together with their daughters Kristina and Kim. They are our children Amy and Jud's ages. That is one reason why we spent so much time together as families. On many a weekend evening, one of us would call the other and we'd make a plan to share an evening meal. The kids would play and we "adults" could chat about all things - raising kids, jobs, families, farming, and more. We raised those kids together. We all shared love and admiration for each other - plus a sense of humor! Bobbie and Jeff have always been such positive people - glass half full. Those are people you want to be around.

Kristina and Kim have lost their mother, their biggest fan, listening ear, and their advisor. I'm so sad for them about that. My mom died from lung cancer when I was 40, so older than they are now. Even then I felt robbed of the comfort of a mother - the heart of our family. Jeff is a great dad and will continue to be. Paul and I will try to think of ways we can support this family missing Bobbie.

Kristina has two young daughters under age 5. I'm so sorry that they won't personally remember Grandma Bobbie. I'm sad that now that I'll be a Grandma I won't have the opportunity to get more tips from her! She already told me a couple stories of her times with the girls that I cherish. Just like Bobbie took on all challenges, Bobbie didn't let fussy grandkids fluster her. After keeping the kids overnight in Creston, when delivering the young girls back to their folks in Ankeny, the baby began shrieking in the rear-facing car seat. Not a happy girl. Bobbie didn't stop as she'd already tried several methods to calm the youngster. So she just put some good tunes on the car radio and began to sing at the top of her lungs! Eventually, the little one ran out of steam and konked out. It will be our job now to tell Bobbie stories to the girls - so they know just who their Grandma Bobbie was.

Bobbie did not really believe in allowing herself much leisure time. She was most happy working on projects. She'd just plunge in. Recently, during the pandemic, she painted the inside of their Creston home. Every room! She only got help on the highest peaks of their cathedral ceiling. She loved to exercise, ride bikes and walk - quickly.

We had some good times in Des Moines in recent years when she and Jeff came up to bike with us. We may have overdone the beer to bike mile ratio!

Farmer's Market visit

Don McKim always laughed that Bobbie could be a "sprinter" when we had group gatherings. One legendary time a group of Cyclone fans attended an ISU/KSU football game at Arrowhead Stadium in Kansas City. A vendor was handing out free Monster energy drinks which Bobbie mixed with vodka. Then she invited herself into a fancy tailgate party with a live band and food! The rest of us were standing behind Higgins' Suburban in the parking lot. Not a super football fan, Bobbie konked out during the game, sleeping with her head on Jeff's shoulder.  I'll miss hearing her version when reminiscing about all those times we've had together.

I enjoyed talking to Bobbie about work. She was a very effective and dedicated comptroller - most recently at a plant in Creston that makes giant equipment that peels potatoes and carrots. They had a branch in Boise, ID so she told us how she got to know that area, mostly on her own. With a previous job, Bobbie and Jeff traveled to far off locations like Germany and Thailand - they loved to visit new places.

I'm so sad for Bobbie's family - her parents Bob and Grace, and her brothers and families. And Jeff's family including my former roomie Joanie. Since we don't have family around Creston, Paul and I have been lucky to be invited to some of their gatherings, so we feel a bit like cousins. Bobbie's loss will hit hard for them all. We will need to try honor Bobbie by keeping our memories of her alive.

Bobbie moved into Creston and won the hearts of Crestonians right away - even with farmers, no small feat. She served on the school board and volunteered for many other things - always dependable. When our son Patrick lived his brief life in 1991, she and Jeff were there for us. She brought ham balls for the funeral - it's a SW Iowa thing. That's what I kept thinking yesterday as we visited the house to see the family. Bobbie would bring ham balls to this. I expected her to drive up and take charge.

Bobbie had a road bike and kept up with the guys. Albie (my crosstrainer bike) and I brought up the rear 

Paul and I traveled to Creston to the house yesterday. Several family members were there and a steady stream of neighbors and friends stopped by to drop off food and to express their sympathies. It's what you do - surround the family with love. This week will be a blur. It will be our job to be there for Jeff and the girls after the funeral too.

We all need reminders of how special each day is. 2020 has worked on that. This reminder hurts so badly. RIP my friend. I  hope you are in your Happy Place forever.

Last year - Lake of the Ozarks - Bobbie's "Happy Place"