Ghost Story

We all have a few ghost stories in our lives. Paul and I lived in Creston, Iowa for 26 years - and that town has a few stories that we have adopted as our own. I've not been blogging about much lately - mostly because I've felt like crap! That doesn't mean I've not thought of you, dear reader. I've just thought of myself more. #memyshoulderi'msotired

Here's the good news - the fog seems to be parting. My shoulder has taken a turn for the better (about time, huh?). And I'm staring to feel like doing the little things - like cooking and blogging. Hey, what do you know. Maybe those T3 and T4 levels (thyroid hormones) are regulating. Hoohah!

Anyway - I've been thinking of this blog since Halloween. Creston has some scary lore. It's an old railroad town and just radiates with good stories. None of these actually have anything to do with the railroad...

When Paul and I first moved to town I worked at First National Bank. That was where I learned of the Haunted House on Higbee. I think the bank I gotten it back on a re-possession. The lore was a man had hung himself on the upper floor of the once impressive home in a nice older part of town. I imagined it similar to the house from the movie "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken." Loved that show! We used to drive by the place...just because it was creepy. Eventually some nice people bought it and fixed it up.

Next, when I was preggers with Judson David Goldsmith (but before we knew that who the little bugger would be) and Bobbie McFee was with child (Kimberly McFee), we learned of a creepy headstone at Graceland Cemetery just south of Creston. The story is that it was installed by an upset widow, who thought her husband was somewhat of a dick - so  made sure the tombstone was shaped like that piece of male anatomy. Goldsmiths and McFees decided to view this creepy appendage stone on a cold winter night after hanging out at the Cromwell Tap.

This is the cemetery entrance...not the special stone

Due to our pg condition, Bobbie and I weren't even inebriated. But we were under the influence of hormones... nonetheless it what creepy out there, looking at the stone at night. A few years later, in the light of day, I dragged some of my fam out there to see the thing - even posing Sarah Kohan with it. Creston Lore at its best!

As young Creston parents we'd heard our friends talk about an abandoned farmstead outside of Creston - Hooker's Farm. The Hooker family had evidently taken off in a hurry - leaving furniture and home furnishings behind - making it a great party house for youngsters. There are many stories about Hooker's Farm - but I just have one. The time the Goldsmiths visited the place.

Bob Hudek (RIP Bobby)

It was Bob Hudek's 45th? birthday - being celebrated at Nancy and Kenton Groth's house on Prairie. I'll admit it, some drinks were drunk. At one point we sang, "bare your butt Bob" and were treated to a nice Bob H. moon. It was summer and the kids were entertaining themselves. When it got dark someone suggested that we should visit Hooker's Farm!

We piled into several vehicles - kids and all - and drove up the long dirt lane. We had a few flashlights - not enough though. I know Amy was there but don't remember if Jud was. We were in the dining room and of course others tried to jiggle things and scare us. It worked! I believe the old place has now been razed. Several talented CHS grads made a CD called Hooker's Farm in the 90's.

Growing up in a small town might sound boring to big city kids - but we small townies find a way to make life exciting wherever we are.

Little stuff

Dr. Don McKim, with Saturday night's bride, Susan

Amy started her new job today - can't wait to hear how it went! New jobs are always stressful. You can't ever let your guard down, so by the end of the day, you're exhausted!

I remember my very first job - as the office manager at Gamble Robinson in Sioux Falls, SD. I sat, perched on the edge of my chair while Karen, a stern taskmaster, taught me my duties. I took copious notes so I would remember what to do the next day - how to open and sort the mail, how to pay the bills etc. But there are so many "but ifs", that I couldn't possibly record them all. Plus I had to learn everyones' names and the towns and customers etc. It was overwhelming.

I was ripped from the womb of my wonderful college friends - all safe, warm and inviting. There each night to hear how my day went. Back then it was expensive to talk long distance, so phone calls were a luxury! Paul and I were dating, but spoke on the phone only one a week or so. My college roomies had their own new lives to deal with, and parents in those days were never real attentive to us kids - it wasn't expected. I was on my own. No wonder I got up at 1 in the morning and took a shower - thinking it was time to go to work! But I got through it, and was soon thriving at the job and had won over the hearts of all the staff in the joint. I'm sure Amy will too.

Another funny Amy story. We chose to raise our children in a small town - and because of that they have learned a way of life that is unlike life in the big city. Amy has gone to the same eye doc all of her life - our good friend Dr. Donnie McKim. Until last week, when she attended a Denver eye doctor. She needs new glasses, so she innocently asked if she could take home a few pairs of frames to try on at home and think about - cuz that's what she used to do in Creston...where everyone knows her family.

Uh nope. Evidently Denver eye docs don't do that. Reality check in the big city. I bet you can't pick out running shoes and tell them to charge that your father will come in and pay for them later either Amy...

But you're taking Amtrak home on Friday, so maybe you get a little shopping in on Friday honey! Plus we can hit the Elms Club for lunch. Ah...small towns are good for some things!

Livin' in a small town

I like living in a small town (hmm isn't that a song - Springsteen perhaps??). Except when I don't.

There are some definite benefits. I should know - I grew up in one. Atlantic is very similar in size to Creston - except Atlantic has the snob factor. They're in Cass County - a tier of counties north and west of Union where Creston is. A bit better farmland, and a bit bigger heads.

When I was a kid, I'm sure I was one of the cocky ones - sure A-town was the bestest. I've described in this blog how great it was to grow up there. Biking all over our part of town. Walking downtown to purchase candy and scope out the toys at the five and dimes - Ben Franklin and Bonnesons.

I must fess up to my shoplifting experience. I once lifted some grape gum from Ben Franklins. After chewing it my Catholic guilt kicked in and I went back to the store and stuck a dime near the cash register for them to find. Way to go Sister Frances - you did your job putting the 'ol Catholic guilt in place.

In those days, we didn't have credit cards - we just used Dad's name for credit. With Mom's permission, when I was in high school, I'd stop in at Seufert's - a clothing store. When I'd want something I'd just tell them to charge it to Dave Bullock. Hell it worked pretty much all over town! We joked in later years that we were going to visit Deter Chevrolet (Don Deter was one of Dad's best buddies) and "Dave Bullock" a car.

Creston isn't quite that "user friendly" though I can "Leslie Goldsmith" at the vet clinic and they'll send me a bill at the end of the month. I enjoy seeing folks I know all over town - the grocery store, and at restaurants where they know what I like to drink. Diet Coke at Elms Club (it's lunch time for gosh sakes) and Lemondrop martinis at A&G - or perhaps Amber Bock.

(They're in for a shock at A&G though cuz I have decided to take a lil break from alcohol for a few weeks.) My foot is in this damn boot and I don't really need any extra calories to work off later. Plus my liver has taken quite a lot of punishment this past few months and it needs a break. I CAN have fun and not drink (she recites to herself).

While I'm not all that gung ho about the Catholic church these days, I still find comfort in going to church surrounded by so many people I know and who know me. Plus the rituals and bad singing. I've watched some of those people go from high schoolers to parents. And they've watched me go from a young parent to....a mature empty nester.

Living in the Des Moines area, in the big city, during the week has its benefits. So many stores and restaurants at my fingertips. A nice library and walking trail in Waukee. But for now at least, my heart (and my honey) are in a small town.