40th Anniversary - but not ours

Paul in his girl glasses - so cute! 

It's not what you think - though Paul and I are coming up on our 38th in a few weeks. This July 4, 2020, was the 40th anniversary of a very important Independence Day in my life. It was the start of a tradition that cemented friendships that began with young students at Iowa State University. And thanks, in part, to that 4th of July 40 years ago, many of those friendships have stood the test of time. Who would have imagined one trip to the Apple River could do all that? And, perhaps help me fall a little bit more in love with my honey.  

Paul with Joyce - rainy year

I doubt our host Mike Huston and his parents Clark and Joyce ever considered that one invitation would stretch into 15+ years of young people and later families traipsing to their place. Over the course of those years, many of us married and became parents - bringing another generation to the joys of Ridgeland. Happy memories.  

That first year, 1980, I was living and working in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. For the trip, I met my fellow travelers, who were coming from the south, in Albert Lea, MN - right along I-35 just past the Iowa border. We started drinking beer along the way and somebody (not me) threw up before we even before our appointed destination - a tiny town in NW Wisconsin. A key attraction for the invitee was that it was not far from the Apple River - a place one could rent an inner tube and float while drinking massive amounts of beer. As I write this blog, Paul, lifting weights and in a fog of memories, just put our old Alabama LP on the turntable. I remember singing "Dixieland Delight" driving up to Ridgeland that first time. It was our anthem. 

In 1980, Mike didn't just invite a couple friends to his parents' rural escape. He asked around 20! He must have caught his parents at a weak time. What were they thinking? Besides Mike they have four other children - so heck, the more the merrier? C'mon up to a place with no running water and a two-seater outhouse. Bring a sleeping bag. Hustons set up a giant tent that slept lot of people. I swear it had several rooms. 

What a time we had - partying at the bars in the cozy burg of Ridgeland. The Flying Dutchman was one - a typical local bar, cold beer, and their Friday night fish fry was awesome. You couldn't beat the beer prices. When we left, we got some ice and Leinenkugels to go. We needed some for the river float and for the bonfire.

You can still tube the Apple River today. Check out - Rivers Edge. I'm sure it's fun - but nothing like the non-regulated crazy times we had in the early 1980's. Get this - there was no recycling then. Even then I just knew something wasn't right with that.

Vic, Jane and Les - around 1981

 

The Apple Rive had a system to toss empty cans towards giant targets along the river, hoping they'd fall into the containers below. One year my pal Jane swears she drank the same beer the whole ride - because she kept dunking it in the water. Ick! Talk about recycling....Anyway - people were winging beercans through the air and you always had to be ready. We lashed tubes together with twine, floating happily while we enjoyed each others' company. What sunscreen? (me then) Now - I need shade! 

That first year we had great weather and had our fill of beer by the end of the river. Nobody prepared us (Paul - who is not really a swimmer) for the rapids (small ones) at the end. Surprise! He flipped his tube and lost his glasses. Can you say blind man walking? And I sliced my ankle on something. Beer can? I'm lucky I didn't get Tetanus, but the cut likely got washed out by an alcohol swirlie. Paul was fortunate that Mike's sis Lori had similar glasses and wore contacts so he was able to wear hers until he could get new glasses. 😏 He looked adorable in those chunky 80's frames! 

It wasn't like we needed more alcohol, but in between the river and Ridgeland, there was a tiny bar called Theresa's that we'd stop at. It was filled with locals who'd look at us like - "what are you doing here?" when we'd walk in. Later, when we had kids, we were sure to take them there. We always played that classic bar song. "F'ing Jerk. Get on My Nerves" They had a PG version with whistles and beeps for kids. I wish we could have purchased "My First Dive Bar" t-shirts for our children. So proud! It's trips like going to Ridgeland that helped us raise our children with Vic and Fred's and Moose and Kay's kids - making them kinda like cousins. Shared memories. 

Tubing was fun, but my favorite part of staying at the Huston Ridgeland place was hanging out with Clark and Joyce sitting around the campfire. Their whole family was so nice - Mike was the oldest on down - Jeff, Lori, Kris and Karla - the youngest at about 11 when we first started going. Looking back, Clark and Joyce were only in their 40's when we started going to Ridgeland. Wow - so young! They were great role models - active younger having fun with their kids.  

Clark had lived in the Ridgeland house with his dad Russell when he was growing up. We were fortunate enough to meet Russell those first couple of years we visited. He and I shared a birthday so he remembered me each year. Around the campfire we'd tell Lena and Ollie jokes, become Turtles (One Red Hen), tell ghost stories, and just chat. Most of us were in our first real job, so it was nice to hear about how others were coping. Mike and Tom were in various stages of Vet School. Some years we went even when Mike couldn't go. Vets have such tough hours! 

Clark and Joyce put on quite a spread of food each year. Breakfasts were awesome - the old house had electricity so they'd cook up pancakes and bacon. While we ate they'd have water heating over the campfire to do dishes in the sink. At night they'd grill. Everyone helped with chores. Of course, we'd make S'mores at night. Fred had a big stick that he'd use to stir the fire - each year he'd record the date. He still has it. 

At dark, we'd drag out the fireworks my dad supplied each year from his trip through Missouri on my folks' trip home from Florida. One year Hauser supplied Moose and himself with hardhats. We had Roman candles and tanks and even a helicopter. There was a firework battleship to put in the horse tank.

Amy in the antique playpen - baby behind bars! She never recovered. haha

That first year - 40 years ago - fresh from college - I was figuring out what I wanted in life. I felt fortunate to land a job - even if it was all the way over in Sioux Falls. I had dated Paul my senior year but wasn't sure if he was "the one". After graduation, we got to know each other better without the distractions of college life. He called, he visited, and even wrote me letters. Sigh! During those trips to Ridgeland and other short trips we took together, I began to understand what a kind and giving person he is. He had wonderful friends - a good sign too. My pals are pretty wonderful too. 

Jud's First Ridgeland

Paul and I melded our two college friend groups together - seamlessly. Some of them were intertwined in that Iowa way - they knew each other before I knew him. The rest is history! Now that we are empty nesters it's easier to get together again and we are doing that. I was so proud when my kids could have their first Ridgeland bath. 

Jud in front of Huston barn

Yes, I'm being a sentimental old woman this pandemic 4th of July. Paul and I had a nice quiet day - kayaking early to beat the heat and crowd. As we paddled, I took a walk down memory lane and realized it was the 40th anniversary of our first Ridgeland Adventure. 

I texted our friend group - many of us just got together on a ski trip in CO just before the country shut down in March. Some of us had seen each other at an ISU football game last fall. After years of raising children and selflessness, it's been nice to have time to put ourselves first once again - just like those early Ridgeland years and get together for fun!  

I was a happy gal, sitting in my boat interacting with my pals - even sending pics. Heart full! We are blessed with fabulous friends. 

Amy roasts a marshmallow at Ridgeland

Hawaiian year

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. 













 

Memories Broken and Independent

This isn't the first time I broke my arm. The story for the first time is much more interesting than a bike wreck. Wind up the way back machine - it was about 1961, and I was attending nursery school at Mrs. Luin's. All the cool kids were there!

Mrs. Luin would pick us up a couple days a week in her station wagon, and we'd sit in the back (loose - no seatbelts for we baby boomer kids) singing "Way Down Yonder in the Paw Paw Patch" as she took us to and fro. Her house/pre-school was located on the outskirts of Atlantic, just south of the cemetery. I recall snack time including graham crackers, Koolaid and sugar cubes. Healthy, no?

The basement of the house was a virtual smorgasbord of kid wonderland. Toys and blocks galore, sand box, water area and outside - even better! There was some type of train that went around the whole backyard. Inside there were several play areas including older style swing sets and a big slide.

I don't think it was quite this big...but to a 4 year-old...

The slide was my nemesis. It was during a play session of "boys chase girls" that I must have decided a quick jump off of the top of the slide was a good way to get ahead of a cootie filled boy who was coming up the ladder. I landed on my arm wrong and broke it. I think it was the left one - and not the shoulder. I recall having a cast on it. Beyond that, it's a foggy memory. I was only 4. Around that time my friend Robyn broke her foot (or was it her leg?) on the glider of the swingset too. I happened to be gliding with her. Is there a theme here? Can you imagine the uproar today if a pre-school had that safety record?

Yesterday I finally got into my stylist for a "broke shoulder" haircut. Yes please!

It's July 3rd - I'm off work celebrating the holiday a day early. I love Independence Day! I have since I was a kid growing up in small town Iowa during the best time to be a kid. My earliest memories are of taking blankets to the Atlantic Golf and Country Club for evening fireworks. Before dark they'd light "sonic booms" and we'd run back to the blanket and pounce on it like it was base. The fireworks would be set off down near the first green. By the time they were over, we were very sleepy and ready to be in bed.

Another memorable 4th of July was in 1976. Chris, Robyn, Trish and I went to Okoboji that week - celebrating our graduation from High School. It was my first big outing with pals - an exciting time that will always stand out as one set me on my way toward freedom and adulthood.

After college we (and 8-20 friends) spent over 10 years traveling to Wisconsin - first, as just out of college young-adults. Then as newlyweds and young parents. We stayed with our friend Mike's parents and family at their rustic farm just outside Ridgeland, Wisconsin. My dad would supply us with a big box of fireworks - purchased in Missouri as he and Mom traveled back from Florida in the spring. We would tube the Apple River, golf and eat Oscar Mayer foods. It was such fun and so relaxing. The small bars in the tiny towns are still something we talk about today!

Vic, Jane and me - Ridgeland 1980?

Once our own children got involved in activities in Creston, we began staying home for the 4th of July - and found out that town puts on a heck of a party! The parade (bloody marys at the Elks Club?), flea market, a street dance, stuff at McKinley Park and mostly - fabulous fireworks that take place in what became our front yard after we move to the west side of town in 1998. We'd invite folks over to watch the display each year. I loved it! Watching the goings on in the neighborhood - neighbors having barbecues, people driving and walking by. Such a fun day.

We've spent the past couple years here - attending Yankee Doodle Pops. I didn't want to face that in a sling this year! Tonight, friends are coming up and we're going to the Iowa Cubs game - and oh...there will be fireworks. Tomorrow - the rest of the gang will ride bikes. I'll likely read. I love it!

Rain rain go away

Right about when the parade was supposed to start, it started pouring here in Creston, Iowa. It takes me back to the year in Ridgeland when we were stuck in the house in that little town, with no running water all Fourth of July weekend.

Of course that was after a few years of good times with our college buddies - camping at the Huston home place in Ridgeland. We'd head, en masse there, stay in a giant f'in tent, drink beer and tube the Apple River some half hour or so away. (There was a cute little bar on the way called Teresa's - a whole 'nother story).

We had a grand time - that first year Mike Huston - the best man at our wedding (we weren't married yet - it was 1980) invited a shitload of folks. I drove from my first job home in Sioux Falls, SD to Albert Lea, MN to meet my friends. Off we went from there, arriving in Ridgeland in the dark.

The next day we became familiar with our surroundings - a rickety old farmhouse with a kitchen and living room and fireplace plus stairs to a second level with a couple bedrooms. Electricity but no running water and no bathrooms. Two seater outhouse and big old barn.

Then there was the huge blue canvas tent set up that held like 15 people. That weekend it was 15 snoring, beer farting people. We sat around the campfire, melting our sneakers getting to know some vet school friends Mike Huston had invited plus the whole Huston clan including Grandpa Russell who lived in town at a rooming house.

Mom and Dad, Clark and Joyce Huston lived in Madison and both worked at Oscar Mayer while raising five nice kids, Mike the eldest, Jeff a year younger, Lori a couple years younger than we are, Kristie was 14 then and Carla 11.

Our group consisted of the usual suspects Vic, Fred, Paul, Moose (it was before the Kay years), Hauser, Catfish (a college friend from the Towers where Paul met Mike, on Baker House) and his lady friend Hotsy Totsy - who proceeded to share too much information about how sex in the weeds was icky...ICK. Jane Ertl and Bob Fitzpatrick, Tom Sullivan - another groomsman of ours and his future wife Allison. Jane Flack was the life of the party one of those first years.

Clark and Joyce brought all the food - lots of good OM meats. We'd have a huge breakfast - eggs, pancakes, bacon etc. They made coffee in an old aluminum coffeepot. Once breakfast was done we'd do the dishes right away - using water boiled on the fire.

Drinking all that beer necessitated using the dreaded outhouse. It was a two seater and had real toilet seats. But it didn't flush, and there was no sink to wash hands. After a day one would really be desiring a shower! Again we'd use the heated water - play beauty parlor and help with each other's hair.

The first year tubing was the finest! I didn't know what to expect. By the time we got there we were already on our way to being toasted. Our cooler was lashed to the tubes. Jane had a bottomless beer - cuz she kept putting it under water and then drinking the pissy river water. Ug. Good fun.

Moose and Steve shot off fireworks my Dad bought for us on Mom and Dad's trek back from Florida. Plus Moose had bought some. The boys wore hard hats. Roman candle fights. Battle ship in the horse tank. We were never quite sure what each "work" would do!

Then came rainy year. No tubing, no golf, no fireworks. We had boardgames and reading in the cabin. And drinking. We'd head outside whenever there was a break of course. And we spent some time in bars. When I got home everything I owned was wet or damp. It was still fun though - cuz I was with my buddies.

The Hustons are great people - I aspire to be like them when I grow up.