3/22/23 3/22/23

Bio Accident and Runaway Heart

It started with the car accident on January 5th. We never made it to Keith’s cousin’s funeral. The driver that hit us and flew away, totaled our car. We ended up spending the next several hours in ER. No broken bones but very bruised and sore. My left leg looked like it had been dragged five miles on gravel road.

We went home to heal. Only my leg didn’t heal. It got infected. Thankfully, my neighbor Rachel is a nurse who chose to keep my situation under surveillance. She had me go in to see a doctor. It was infected all right. A shot and I returned home with meds. Only they didn’t do the job. My friend Rachel next took me to the CHI health clinic for two shots and a different medication. This one worked. I began to heal.

Only some situations developed and I pulled muscles. That hurt. Rachel kept monitoring, but I could see she was concerned. I had my yearly wellness check and labs coming up. She suggested I request an EKG. When our doctor came through the door, one glance at her face and I knew we weren’t going home. I spent the next three days in the hospital for a heart that was trying to gallop away.

My veins are not fun to tap, yet the heart doctor wanted not one, but two IVs. Took one, two, three different experts before that happened. We kept my other arm as a pin cushion for all the blood they drew. Lots of medical personnel in and out of my room. My friends and my sister-in-law visited. Our kids called and Keith kept them apprised of what was happening. I wasn’t dying so asked our kids not to come.

Was given new meds to try and make my heart behave and finally got to go home. Rachel continued to keep an eye out for me, especially since my legs have started to swell a bit. That first three-day hospital stay, turned into almost a week in the hospital the next time because of breathing problems. Finally, home with meds the doctors hoped would get my heart in rhythm again. They didn’t do the job so I went in for a procedure to shock my heart into rhythm. So far so good.

I told Keith, “It all started with the car accident.”

He corrected me, “This was revealed because of the accident.” He is right. I might never have known about my heart without all that went before and had Rachel not been keeping an eye out for me. That is a blessing.

Don’t know what my heart may do. But this I know. I am not alone. I am surrounded by family and friends. I also know God who created my heart will not desert me. Whatever happens, I know He’s got this, and I am safe within His loving arms.

Column published 3/20/2023

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2/16/23 2/16/23

Bio The Car Insurance Saga

It started with our car accident January 5th. When we got hit, I thought a bomb had gone off. Instead, a car hit us so hard it spun us around and then disappeared down the road. Thankfully, there were others nearby who assisted us as our minds were rather muddled. They called the police and an Allo truck pulled us out of the intersection.

Next, I knew an ambulance parked near and we were asked about going to ER. We did and were there for several hours. Thankfully, no broken bones, but lots of bruising. My left leg from knee to ankle looked like I’d been dragged ten miles on a bad road. Eventually, we were allowed to return home. Friends picked us up.

Of course, we contacted our car insurance company, and the saga began. They declared our car a total loss. It took some time, but we received a check and went to check out cars, ending up with a similar car, but a year earlier than our other one. (It also had very low mileage.)

All this happened in January and February first, the date of our car insurance renewal was coming up. Though the car had been totaled and Keith signed the title over to the insurance company, they kept sending us renewal notices listing both cars. No! No! NO!

Finally, after several phone calls, Keith thought he had that problem handled, and we looked for a corrected renewal notice. Not long thereafter, we received five envelopes from the Insurance company. I began to open them. The first listed both cars and insurance at twice what we’d been paying. Not again! I opened another that said if we were getting rid of a car to see it was taken off the insurance. Really? Like we hadn’t been trying.

The next letter I opened listed just one car and it was the correct one. The cards, too, were correct. Oh good. I could pay the insurance and move on. But wait, I still had two letters to open. The next one was set up, not as a total payment which we’ve always done, but as monthly payments. The total was off, and we wouldn’t be making monthly payments. The last letter held no cards but did have a cost for six months of insurance. The cost was much less than the letter that appeared to have the correct information. Ridiculous!

I called the local office and asked if the left hand knew what the right hand was doing. I laid out the information in the letters. Confused her, too. She said she’d get back to me. Late afternoon another agent did call me back. I gave her a synopsis of the problem. This time she was able to unscramble the problems and came back with a totally different cost, which she said was the correct cost for six months. I didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. I got a card and paid right then. An email confirmed the purchase.

I am thankful we are recovering from our injuries (but not until after dealing with an infection from my leg injury). I am thankful we were able to replace our car, and I am thankful for a local agent who could make sense of the mess made higher up by insurance agents in the company. We didn’t need this hassle and wished that ended the car insurance saga. But… the medical side of it meant lots more paperwork. The saga isn’t quite over, but it is slowing down at least. I’ll be thankful to move on.

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1/25/23 1/25/23

Good Time, Good Friends, Good Memories

Yes, the roads downtown are still bumpy with snow pack from our recent storm. What melts during the day turns to ice at night. Still, it was my 73rd birthday (is that possible!) and we wanted to celebrate at a restaurant downtown. The Alley Rose has no problem with my many and varied allergies.

Our waiter even recalled many of mine from our last visit with family in December. Also recalled what I ordered. Now that is quite the waiter!

Friends since college days, Jeff & Gloria Geiselman, treated us to supper at this nice restaurant. It was fun to meet and share food, fellowship, and the evening together. The atmosphere was subdued. No blaring music or loud voices. We could actually hear each other speak--even though hearing isn't what it once was.

Afterward, they helped us get to our car with leftovers and a more slippery sidewalk than when we arrived. Still, we got in the car safely. (I slipped and Jeff had to grab me and heft me onto the car seat.)

A simple night out with friends, not exactly. It was a time to celebrate not only my birthday but also a friendship that has lasted through time (since college), raising kids, celebrating our kid's marriages, and welcoming grandkids. It has been rejoicing together in good times and grieving together in times of loss.

Our friendship has grown over time. Good friendships do. I am thankful for dear friends who have our backs. Who lift up, not tear down and who encourage.

Right now, I am thankful I can store new precious memories in my heart.

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9/21/22 9/21/22

Blog Bio Seasons, Life and Attitude

Didn’t the year 2022 just begin? What whirlwind happened to send us into the future at such a dizzying pace? A day might seem to go on forever at times until you blink and the day, a week, a month has whipped by.

Winter, Spring, and Summer three seasons disappeared into the past. We held celebrations of birthdays and graduations, had a Scheidies family gathering, and much more. Our youngest granddaughter had her first dance recital. To which, of course, both sets of grandparents came to town to attend, converging from Kearney and Minnesota on Papillon. My husband Keith celebrated his 70th birthday with family and friends. Our oldest granddaughter graduated from high school so, of course, we had to celebrate that milestone.

I look back at days of sunshine and storms. Days when I got things done and days when one thing after another interfered with my schedule, leaving me frustrated, and wondering where all the time went. The cold of winter finally eased into the panting heat of summer. Short sleeves helped cool us off. Yesterday I realized we are, already it seems, heading into fall and winter. I woke up cold. The weather reported temperatures in the 70s, but not until late afternoon.

No, the morning was in the 50s and 60s, when, as I pointed out to my husband, we’d be going to church. No short sleeves for me. Brr. I wore a warmer long sleeve turtleneck covered with a flannel vest. I was still cold. Before going out I added a jacket and kept it on all during church. The year is moving on and at warp speed. I cannot stop time or the clock. We were young not so long ago. Now we are old. We had energy to burn, but not so much now. Much has changed.

However fast or slow life happens, I can still meet each day with gratitude. I can count my blessings. From this vantage point, I realize how even difficult circumstances helped me become who I am and were the foundation for many blessings I enjoy today.

My life is centered not on the passing of seasons, years, or time, but on a faith that guides my todays and my tomorrows. Whatever the date on the calendar, I rise with a verse on my tongue, “This is the day the Lord has made, we (I) will rejoice and be glad in it.” —Psalms 118:24 NKJV

An attitude of gratitude makes all the difference.

Kearney Hub Column Published 9/20/2022

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9/13/22 9/13/22

Blog Bio Trip, a surprise and Star trek

Keith had an idea. He wanted to surprise Jeff and Gloria Geiselman who’ve been our friends since college. Whenever we’ve needed help, they’ve always been there. It was more than that. The surprise had to do with an interest we all had in common. It included a special trip after Jeff retired. Once we knew when he was officially retired, we booked the trip—many months in advance. “Save the date,” Keith told Jeff and Gloria.

Late August we packed everything into our car and headed out. They knew we planned to eat in Omaha, so Jeff drove that first lap. Keith took over after that stop. We headed mainly east on I-80. I knew Gloria needed to know how to pack, so I’d already shared we were headed to a Casino Resort with a pool, hot tub and spa.

We talked, laughed, remembered incidences and friends from the past. Back in college, I was in a wheelchair and the guys took good care of me and included me. After my extensive surgery and relearning to walk, Jeff and Gloria were always ready to lend an arm when I needed more support. Now we’re geezers and Keith isn’t as steady on his feet as he once was.

Eventually Keith told them we were going to Riverside Iowa. That didn’t ring a bell and he asked them not to check on their phones. Even when we arrived and settled into very nice connecting rooms, they had no clue. We were all Star Trek fans. Before and after we married, we got together to watch episodes of Star Trek as well as shows that came out of that original show.

Keith revealed the secret. We brought them to the future birthplace of Captain James T Kirk. In the series, Kirk always claimed his home was Iowa. Riverside became that home. The next day we headed to the Star Trek museum with all things Kirk and Star Trek. No one else was visiting so Alex who was in charge spent his time talking to us and showing us around.

We took pictures of the command chair, the transporter, and much more. Alex even came outside with us to take a picture of us in front of the large mockup of the Enterprise. It was so much fun to share that experience with our friends.

This was also Amish country where horses and buggies were not uncommon on the road. We ate delicious ice cream at an Amish creamery, shopped at unique stores, and later enjoyed supper at a steak house. By then we were ready to return to the resort, I was out of steam, but the others grabbed their swimsuits and went swimming in the indoor/outdoor pool.

After long days, it wasn’t hard to sleep. The third day, it was time to head home, which we did after breakfast. After all, it was a 6 ½ hour drive home. On the way, we found some unique eating places to take breaks and eat. By the time we drove by exits for Grand Island, talk had died down. The only sound came from the radio.

We were tired and ready to be home. We gave thanks for a safe trip, a fun trip, and time together with good friends. We made good memories and took lots of pictures. I am glad we were able to do the trip and surprise our friends. Now we can look back, remember and smile.

What can you do to make good memories for family, friends, or even a total stranger? Try it. Make some good memories of your own.

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9/9/22 9/9/22

Blog Bio Air Conditioning and Gratitude

***Photo by*** ***Raychan*** on ***Unsplash***

I didn’t grow up with air conditioning. When we lived in Siren, Wisconsin when I was 5-7 years old, the humidity was almost unbearable during the summer months. Wisconsin has lakes dotted all over. Some lakes were good for fishing, some for swimming and some were little more than swamps—and dangerous at that.

Back in the late fifties, we didn’t even think about air conditioning. When we wanted to cool off we headed to one of the lakes that bracketed our small town. There were no lifeguards and parents didn’t always go with their kids. In fact, we younger children often went with our older siblings.

Eastern Wyoming didn’t have an abundance of lakes or rivers. Many creek beds remained dry except during Spring run-off. Humidity wasn’t a problem. But temperatures often climbed over the 100% mark. Still, without moisture, the temperatures didn’t feel near as hot as much lower temperatures felt in Wisconsin.

The nearest swimming pool was 30 miles away in Lusk. Our folks took us to swim a few times during the summer. Where we lived water was not abundant, so we didn’t just turn on the hose to cool off. Best stay in the shade instead.

Every place I lived as a child was a bit different, but air conditioning was never part of the equation, though, eventually, fans were. Oh, how nice the air felt from those fans.

Even after Keith and I married and my brother built a house suited for my limitations, we had no air conditioning. Paul set the house up for it, but we couldn’t afford it at the time. Instead, during the summer months, we opened windows. It helped some and I liked hearing the birds and the sounds of summer. Nights, however, were muggy and I found it difficult to rest.

We didn’t get AC until our daughter was 13 and had some health issues that led us to install air conditioning. Though we had to close our windows, the cool air felt so good on those steaming hot August days. We don’t turn our AC on in the spring until we’re sure the Winter chill has permanently warmed. (We turned on the AC this year only to have to revert to heat again before the Spring warmth actually stayed.)

With AC my clothes aren’t wringing wet by the end of the day. I don’t have to find the lightest thing possible to wear. If I sit close to our large front picture window, I can still see the trees and flowers and hear the birds from across the street at Collins Park. I know what it is not to have AC and as I sit in my cool home,

I think about those who invented, marketed, and installed the units—and I give thanks. I’ve learned that giving thanks lifts up far better and elevates my emotions much more than finding fault and complaining.

Giving thanks for everyday and small things is a good way to get into a habit of looking for the positive instead getting bogged down in negativity. Besides, I am really thankful for air conditioning, aren’t you?

Kearney Hub column published 2022 August 23

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9/7/22 9/7/22

Blog Bio A Birthday, A Graduation and the Making of Good Memories

Our oldest granddaughter did her high school online. That means she finished at a different time than traditional students. Tori finished her classes this summer. Since our children, Cassie and Tori’s dad Chris planned a 70th birthday celebration for their dad Keith Saturday, September 3rd, I got the idea of holding a graduation celebration earlier that same afternoon.

It was perfect timing as many family members would be coming to Keith’s celebration. I began planning. I already had her gift. My daughter let the family and a few close friends know about our celebration for Tori.

I ordered a vegan cake since Tori is a vegan. Keith went to get a helium balloon only to discover helium is hard to come by. But the business had gotten creative in how to use balloons for decorations. They created two wonderful table decorations—helium-type balloons filled with air with the graduation greetings- on a bed of three colorful smaller, regular balloons. The decorations were so much nicer than a helium balloon. I prefer these decorations, which weren’t expensive, and which I put on either side of the cake on the table.

We added gifts and cards, while those who came to help celebrate crowded around and ate cake. (Even my husband thought the vegan cake was pretty good.) Tori enjoyed her celebration. She got to have a graduation reception though she didn’t graduate from a traditional school situation.

Tori now has memories of the love of family members who were happy to celebrate with her.

Happy Graduation, Tori!

8/18/22 8/18/22

Blog Bio Covid Eventually Caught Up with Us

***Photo by*** ***Kelly Sikkema*** on ***Unsplash***

We made it through the 2020 season of Covid. Of course, at the time we took precautions and mostly stayed home. For a few months, we even Zoomed our church service. 2020, became 2021 with fewer restrictions and 2022 with most restrictions put aside. We are thankful every Sunday to be able to attend our church service and Bible Study in person.

Other than church and doctor visits, we don’t get out all that much. Keith will pick up a few items at the grocery store, but mainly we have our groceries delivered. We spend time with our kids and grandkids in Lincoln and Papillion respectively.

A few months ago, we visited our daughter and family, along with her husband’s parents. Both sets of grandparents came to attend our five-year-old granddaughter’s first dance recital. Ellery was so pretty in her dress. And, she did so well.

We also attended the Scheidies’ weekend gathering where we laughed, talked, and caught up with each other’s lives. Saturday that weekend, the younger kids had uncles providing 3-wheeler and burro rides outside at the family farm.

Not everyone was able to make it to the gathering, but most came. It felt right to be together as a family. We’d been through so much loss since Covid—though not from the disease itself, but due to other causes. We did discover how much we needed one another and the importance of showing we care.

The week after the get-together, Keith and I started not feeling so good. Our “get-up-and-go simply got-up-and went.” It took a couple of days to figure out this was something different from what we’d experienced before. Yup! After managing to stay well through the pandemic and afterward, we finally succumbed. But we didn’t let that frighten us. We knew that fear only makes a situation worse, not better. We chose to move forward, determined to get through this.

The first few days, we slept. Then it was sleep and bathroom time. Our neighbor, a nurse, checked our vitals, asked questions, and made sure we were OK. Slowly we recovered, but it took time to recover our energy. The worst time is when you no longer feel sick but have little energy or motivation to actually do anything. I was glad to get beyond that stage.

I am thankful to make it through and thankful for our family and friends who prayed and offered assistance. It is good to know, that whatever we go through, we do not have to fear for, whatever happens, we are safe in God’s loving care

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8/17/22 8/17/22

Blog Bio Mail, Weather and Just in Time

The day was overcast. I’m not a big fan of dark days. Gloomy days make me feel gloomy, too. On gloomy days, indoor lights aren’t enough to dispel the dark mood. I Like to turn on battery-powered lanterns we keep for nighttime or traveling. They help somewhat.

This was one of those dismal, dreary days. The sky threatened more than gloom. Wind got into the act. Didn’t feel or look much like a Spring day, more like the broodings of Winter. Late afternoon still hadn’t produced more than depressing gloom.

Keith headed out for the mail. He felt a few drops of rain. After retrieving the mail, he hurried back. As though taking a deep breath, the weather held back for a moment. The moment, he closed the door behind him, the sky let loose, howling and growling as though angry its prey escaped.

Rain poured from the clouds hard and fast. Ice hit. Hail slammed against the roof and siding making us wonder if we’d needed to have the roof checked when the storm cleared. The fury lasted for quite a while and even the next day rain, cold and wind lingered.

But it didn’t matter. We were safe in the house my brother Paul built for me, with my limitations in mind. Even more, God held off the storm until Keith was safely inside. How can I not be thankful? Thankful, and looking forward to the next sunny day.

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7/29/22 7/29/22

Blog Bio Mom Scheidies is gone but we still enjoy getting together as a family

Daughter Cassie & hubby Kurt with Jiggs & Bert

Since my in-laws, my husband’s parents Jiggs & Bert passed on, family gatherings haven’t been the same. For years, we followed his Mom’s pattern of a Scheidies weekend gathering the weekend after Thanksgiving in the fall and a gathering the last weekend in April.

In the fall, we celebrated Thanksgiving with a Saturday night potluck at the Scheidies farm and brunch the next morning in Minden with Keith’s folks. We also celebrated Christmas—with gifts for the children, birthdays, and any special event around that time period. In the spring we celebrated Easter, birthdays, and graduations.

Covid forced us to get together via Zoom for a couple of gatherings. While I was thankful for the technology and I was glad to visit with family, Zoom isn’t the same as face-to-face conversations, smiles, and those all-important hugs.

We have gotten together, but too often in the last couple of years, it has been for a memorial service or special acknowledgments, etc. Finally, we held a Scheidies gathering, this time in June 2022, that mirrored the ones Mom Scheidies initiated.

On Saturday night we met at the Scheidies’ farm now owned by Keith’s younger brother and sister-in-law Randy and Nancy who are raising their two grandkids.

Uncles went outside to keep an eye on the little ones. They also gave the kids rides on the 3-wheeler and even on a burro (Someone took a picture of our 5-year-old granddaughter, Ellery, on a burro. She has the biggest smile.)

The kids also got to swim in the above-ground pool on the side porch. Inside, we talked, laughed, remembered, and hugged. We also took time to see who wanted what from two tubs of items from the folks that had not been divided up.

Of course, we had potluck with lots of good food. Only a few stayed for the traditional late-night card game at the farm. The rest of us returned to our homes or hotel rooms for the night.

When the folks lived, we met at their home in Minden where we made eggs and bacon and supplied other breakfast/brunch items. We ate, and hung out until it was time to disperse to our homes—West to Colorado, East to Lincoln, Omaha, and Florida, for Randy and Nancy a short drive North of Minden to their farm and, for us 20 minutes to Kearney. The folk’s home in Minden has been sold. This year we rented the Mitzi Center at Yanney Park in Kearney for our brunch. The park offers so much for the family—including climbing the tower.

We ate, laughed, remembered, and took pictures. We’d gotten together as Mom always wanted for her family. This time without being brought together by death and tragedy. Now the big debate—when should we hold our next get-together? Looks like we’re returning to the last weekend in April. I can’t wait.

Published in the Kearney Hub as “Mom gone: we still get together” 7/28/2022

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7/9/22 7/9/22

Blog Bio Patience, conflict and learning to let go

I’ve always struggled with patience. I want to wade in and get done what needs doing. When there was conflict, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to discuss and talk about the issue until it was solved. I really didn’t mind conflict with a purpose.

I didn’t understand until many years into our marriage that not everyone viewed dealing with issues the same way. Instead of hitting a subject while hot, many, like my husband, preferred to go off to a quiet place and think things through first. Only then was he ready to work through the situation. That used to frustrate me. I didn’t like to wait.

I knew patience was a problem. I knew God encourages patience. It is a virtue. I worked at developing more patience—with kids pushing my last button, with situations out my control, with my body that often frustrated my efforts to accomplish one task or another.

Yes, with my writing I could write, rewrite and keep rewriting until the passage shined. Even then, by the time I turned a book manuscript into my editor, I was heartily sick of it.

When I fell and scrambled my brains, when I had to reach into the darkness of my mind for words and concepts, I had to work hard at regaining what I’d lost. When I tried to explain, I’d get stressed when my mind refused to reveal what I wanted. (I knew the information was in my head, I simply couldn’t readily access it.) My impatience actually increased with my serious fall.

I recovered so very much. I could think more or less clearly, I could read, even write again. In time, I was thankful to be able to breathe without a trach, eat and swallow without a feeding tube. But there are changes. I no longer like confrontation.

I avoid some detective, lawyer, and mystery shows I used to enjoy. I still search for words at times, but I have learned to stop and allow the word or phrase to form in my mind. (My husband has gotten pretty good at figuring out what I want to say.)

In many ways, like my speech, I have learned patience. In other ways, I am more impatient. I have a hard time sitting through a two-hour movie. While I used to force myself through any book I started to read, now I am easily bored. I won’t stay with a movie or book once that boredom sets in.

There is nothing wrong with striving for patience. God made me and He knows doing so is not easy for me—especially now. I may be in a new phase of life and there have been changes, but none of that is a surprise to God.

I’ve learned that while my patience is limited, God’s is not. I can let go and let God be God. After all, I have also come to realize God knows my situation and loves and accepts me just the way I am. All I need do, is wait on Him. That’s something we all can do.

Scheidies' Kearney Hub Column published 7/8/2022

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6/14/22 6/14/22

Blog Bio Time for a Different car

Little did we know, in an accident, this car helped protect us.

After Keith retired several years ago, we were able to purchase the car of our dreams. Most of our married life we had old cars that didn’t stress out our extremely tight budget. It felt good to be able to purchase something better. We found a car both of us could get in and out of fairly easily. Though, of course, we cared about what was under the hood, we were excited that we found a car that worked in “our” color—a deep burgundy red. I also loved the heated seats.

That car gave us good service and we never stopped liking that car. However, we are older, we don’t bend as easily. Also, we needed to keep our front seats back. That meant we basically had very little room in the back seat. Certainly, it wasn’t comfortable for adults. Keith needed a car that was easier to get in and out of without pain. Further, we planned to vacation with friends in August, now that they are also retired. Our car would not do.

Finally, we headed to Midway after lunch. Keith made it clear to the salesman assisting us that we weren’t planning to buy that day. We were simply in the looking stage. In his office, he brought up a car meeting our requirements. And it was red. You bet we’d take a look.

The more he talked about the car, the better it seemed to meet our expectations. Yes, getting in and out went well. The sticker price was a surprise for that much car, which was only couple years old. Wow! Our drive was great.

Who knew God would make sure the very car we needed was on the lot—let go by a couple who, after buying it, sold it back because they had been assigned to go overseas as missionaries. So, instead of looking at other cars, we found ourselves back in the office filling out a pile of paperwork to purchase the car.

The car now sits in our garage, and we can’t believe the speed with which this went down. We expected a drawn out process, but God knows our abilities and energy. While I doubted we’d find a car we liked and in our color, God smiled and blessed us anyway. How can I not trust He cares.

I am thankful for our new-to-us car.

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5/23/22 5/23/22

Blog Bio Girl's Weekend Out

Recently Keith drove me to York on a Friday where we met our daughter Cassie who drove from the Omaha area. We ate lunch together, transferred me and my “stuff” to Cassie’s car, and said goodbye to Keith who headed back home to Kearney. Cassie and I headed south to McPherson Kansas where my sister Karin lives.

The sun was out, the weather chill and I was glad I wore long sleeves under my lightweight jacket. Cassie and I talked all the way to Karin’s house. Out came Karin and her daughter Kelly who’d also come for the weekend. After a round of hugs, they helped me up the stairs to the front door. My stuff was brought into Karin’s bedroom. (Karin slept on a blow-up mattress in her office. I needed the high bed with the firm mattress.)

That evening, after supper we relaxed on Karin’s back patio. It has always felt so peaceful back there and still did. We talked and laughed until after midnight. No one slept really well that night, but in the morning we shared breakfast and hit every subject imaginable. Karin had planned to take us to visit her son and family, but Deanna said a couple of the girls weren’t up to par, colds, etc. We were tired, didn’t want to catch anything, and decided to stay put at Karin’s though Kelly and Cassie went for a 5-mile walk later.

Jim, Karin’s ex, stopped by to say “hi!.” Good to see him for a bit, though I gently scolded him for not having his phone—a safety precaution for those with health issues. Both Karin and I took short naps in the afternoon to get us through the rest of the day. Karin’s supper was delicious. We planned to sit on the porch again, but winter wear and me bundled up in a quilt still didn’t keep the cold at bay and we settled into the living room.

We did spend time going through another box of things that belonged to Karin and my dad, each taking what we wished to keep. I saved some things for son Chris and his family. I was excited because we finally found dad’s slides and early home movies. I’m hoping Chris can put them in a form we can watch and keep.

That night we all slept pretty well and kept up our conversations over breakfast. Cassie and I took time to pack up our stuff, which was taken to her car. Then we settled once more in the living room remembering experiences from our past and memories our folks told Karin and me as we grew up. No subject was off base. We left with hugs and some reluctance. But once Cassie and I headed north, we were anxious to get to our homes. We had a nice drive back to York where we transferred me and my stuff to our car. Keith and I said our goodbyes to Cassie, and we were on our way home.

It was a wonderful weekend, but it felt so good to be home. Even better that Keith said he missed me. Home is good, but I am glad we took the time to make memories with family.

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5/5/22 5/5/22

Blog Bio The Joke’s on Me

Keith bought way too many bananas. He commented about how improbable that we’d be able to eat all those bananas before they went bad. I got the idea to make banana muffins the next morning. I wanted to get the muffins done early so I could focus on the rest of lunch.

I started putting the ingredients together, but I had a whole lot of things on my to-do list. I did part of the process and got distracted by other list items. I was about ready to return to my muffins when the phone rang.

Son Chris often calls when he is headed somewhere. This morning, he was headed to work. We talked until he got to work—maybe 15-20 minutes. By then the morning was getting away from me. I hurried to finish the muffins and get them in the oven.

Only when I was ready to take them out did the truth hit. I’d never added the banana. When I shared my goof with Keith at dinner, while we enjoyed those muffins, we laughed, The mind is a strange thing. I do get easily distracted. Guess I’ll simply slice up a banana, add yogurt and make that unused banana a part of supper.

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3/22/22 3/22/22

Blog Bio It has been a long journey to my latest book

As we contemplated whether or not to offer this series as individual books or as a collection, I decided I liked the idea of offering my readers one book for the entire series. I am glad I went this direction. Who knows what tomorrow might bring with health and other issues? The full trilogy is now published, and I am happy with the result.

Three Sisters of Stanhavon Castle has been released. It is a collection of three complete inspirational Regency romance novels that make up a series. We decided on this direction because it takes enormous effort not only to write and prepare a book for publication but also to market a book properly.

As a child, I loved listening to Dad read everything from Alice in Wonderland, the original to books about people from Martin Luther to Bible storybooks and Bible passages. Those characters on the page fascinated me. Long before I entered school, I learned the alphabet. I learned to put letters together At, Bat, Cat on down, even little rhymes.

How exciting to actually read in school and to be able to take home my very first book. I became a voracious reader. My imagination flew. In elementary school, I began writing some stories. By third grade, I dreamed of being a writer.

Once my parents read my writing, they encouraged me. In Kansas, I contracted Juvenile Rheumatoid arthritis and soon rode a wheelchair, not my horse. Those years were filled with pain and frustrations, I poured out in my writing.

In high school, I placed in some writing competitions. When dad took a church in Iowa, we discovered a published author in the congregation. She showed me how to format my work, research, and send my work to appropriate markets. With her assistance, I began selling children’s stories and features. Features led me to pursue a comprehensive degree in journalism from UNK (then KSC). In fact, we moved to Kearney so I could attend college--at a time no one was too concerned about wheelchair accessibility.

By the time I graduated, I regularly sold features and program material (skits, recitations, plays) to several different markets. I also had extensive surgery to walk again. After I married, I continued to freelance. For my birthday one year, my friend Gloria gave me a novel. She challenged me, “You can do better than this.”

I took the challenge. It was ten years of learning my craft, effort, and time before I sold my first novel. I wrote several books for Barbour Publishing’s Heartsong Presents line before moving to Trebleheart Books where I released several more books—including my first complete series.

I also worked with several small publishers, had some good agents, and finally landed contracts with Harlequin--the publisher with all those books in Walmart, Target, etc. Then a company bought Harlequin and forced them to delete some lines. One was the line I wrote for. After I had a severe fall my writing was sidelined. When I returned to writing, I worked on updating books for which I’d received back my rights. Some I resold. Others I brought out under my own imprint. I also wrote the draft of a new series. I worked on it now and again, while I released other non-series books.

In 2021 I returned to my series Three Sisters of Stanhavon Castle. This time I rewrote, reworked, and edited. It took most of the year, but it was done and ready for release before the holidays. It was such fun to give away this book to friends and family. For now, my attention will be on my novel and my Hub columns. We’ll see where my writing takes me after that. Who knows, I may be more surprised than anyone else.

Have a dream? Don’t let it go. Take the steps needed in practice, education, and growing—including the willingness to accept suggestions and constructive criticism--to make that dream come true.

Published Hub Column 3/21/2022

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10/25/21 10/25/21

Blog Bio Home, mice, snakes and perspective

I loved cowboys and horses. So, when my minister got a church in Wyoming when I was in elementary, I was thrilled. I didn’t much care about the house. Mom did. Especially when she began hearing persistent scratching behind their closet wall. My mom freaked when a rodent emerged. Turned out to be one huge rat.

Dad quickly dispatched the unwanted visitor and made certain that would not happen again. Except for that exception, mice stayed away from our house well-guarded by several cats that considered our place home.

When Keith and I married we first lived in an apartment house. One day I found evidence of an unwanted visitor in the kitchen. We bought traps and I put food in plastic containers. I was in the kitchen when our visitor dashed across the floor. I screamed for Keith who rushed in and stomped on the mouse--in his socks. Grossed me out. Mice became a problem.

I was relieved when we moved to another, larger apartment on the other end of the mouse-infested one. Then we moved to an older house that had any number of insects and rodents, Traps became a way of life. Mice made me cringe.

Thanks to a government program, my brother Paul was able to build a house geared toward my limitations. Nice, clean and accessible. Yet, in the fall, mice seemed to find a way into the house, probably from the attached garage. Again, traps were a way of life. At least only one or two got in each year.

After our kids were in elementary, Chris got a dog and Cassie got a cat named Cutie. With Cutie in the house, mice had no chance and they disappeared from our lives. Unfortunately, our mice problem turned into a snake problem.

In fact, for many years I wrote at least one article each year about my adventures with snakes that found a way into the house. Eventually, the snakes also disappeared--at least inside the house. Then we had some siding work done.

About that time, we discovered a mouse in the house. This time we got traps that held poison. The traps took care of that mouse. So much for the mouse problem.

Recently, my sister called early in the morning as I walked into the kitchen from the bedroom. In the semi-darkness, I noticed movement on the ground. At first I thought it was a cricket, Then I scared my sister when I started screaming for Keith.

That movement was a mouse crawling along almost flat against the floor. Gross. Gross. Keith rushed in, took a look and slammed his cane down. I had to explain to my sister as Keith got rid of that dying mouse.

I was thankful, we’d never picked up the poison traps we’d put down last year. Thankfully, that seems to be the only mouse that managed to get inside. Over the years we have had either mice or snakes.

As much as I dislike both these creatures, when I see what is going on in our world I realize how small my problem with mice or snakes really is. Those bigger problems put things in perspective. I guess I can deal with snakes and mice—especially if Keith is near.

8/30/21 8/30/21

Blog Bio Full circle, renovations and Collins Park

Before we started having children, we wanted to be settled. Our rental sold and we found another until my contractor brother built a house suitable for my many limitations.

Paul had several plots of land. We chose one on the land that had been a Nazarene Campground in south Kearney. We chose it because it was south of Collins Park and South of Bryant School where our children would one day attend.

When our kids were preschool age, the park was a blessing. I couldn’t chase after our very active kids. Letting them loose at the park was not an option. Back then, I had another option.

At the park, there was the usual play equipment for everyone else. For the very young children, there was a kid’s play area. Enclosed within a round fence, was play equipment suitable for our little kids. I could stand in the entryway, keep an eye out for our kids, and know they were safe.

We went to the park often on those hot summer days. As our kids entered school, the city decided to expand the baseball area. They ripped out the young child’s area to expand the ballfield and surroundings with bleachers.

The child’s play area was never restored. I felt sad about that, especially for other young parents. However, by then our children had outgrown that play area anyway. While our kids were never into baseball, they still had lots of play equipment they could use at the park.

As children do, our two grew up, left home, attended college, married, and had children of their own. Except for gathering with friends for picnics once in a while, we seldom crossed the street to the park. Nevertheless, I enjoyed hearing the shouts, screams, and laughter as children enjoyed the park.

During the Covid pandemic, the park was silent. Way too silent. I was glad when the park opened up again to children and families. A few months ago, the noise level from children decreased dramatically while the growl of big equipment, saws, hammers, and more echoed.

Once more, Collins Park underwent a major renovation. A splash pad surrounded by play equipment has been unveiled. Once more, I smile as I hear the shouts and laughter of children running through water guns and are splashed from equipment that provides a fun and quick cool down in the heat.

Things come full circle. My two youngest grandchildren beg to go across the street to the park when they visit. While the kid’s play area is gone, in its place is a fun alternative. Love to hear the laughter as my youngest grandchildren enjoy the same park that once captured the interest of their mom and uncle.Thank you Kearney for updating Collins Park.

8/3/21 8/3/21

Blog Bio An Adventure, a storm, stairs and attitude

***Photo by*** ***JuniperPhoton*** on ***Unsplash***

Our daughter Cassie, husband Kurt, and our two youngest grandchildren live in Papillion. Cassie’s brother-in-law Grant, wife Tami, and their three children and one--Liam, Hannah, and Max, as well as Tami’s mom Julia, visited them recently from Virginia.

They consider Keith and I bonus grandparents to their children, so of course, we wished to see them. We babysat the four older kids Friday night while the couples went out to dinner. (Julia took care of little Max.)

After the parents got home, we visited a bit before we headed to the Fairfield motel where we were staying. Those who know me know even a curb is too much for me without assistance. Stairs are avoided because they are frustrating and exhausting. To say the least, I like that there is something called elevators.

Friday night a major storm hit the Omaha area. When I got up during the night everything was dark, very dark, and silent. What happened to the bathroom light? It dawned on me that the power was out. Keith also woke up. We were thankful the toilet and water still worked.

We went back to bed, hoping the electricity would be back on when we awake. It wasn’t. Then came the realization. The elevator didn’t work, and we were three floors up.

The room phone was dead. We dressed wondering exactly what to do. Though Keith can do stairs, it isn’t that easy for him either. The cell phones worked more or less. Cassie heard on the news that the length of the outage was unknown and might take a couple of days.

That was not good for us. Cassie and Kurt came to the rescue. Cassie grabbed some smaller bags, but we left the suitcases. They’d brought a flashlight that lit the way down a long, dark stairway.

Kurt helped me down three flights of stairs, one stair at a time, Scary, but with his help, it went better and faster than I thought it would. Still, I was thankful to be on the ground floor and so ready to sit down.

Street lights were out so Kurt took us on a backroads route to their house. I could see all the damage from downed leaves, branches, and trees. Wow! I was very glad to get to their home even though they also didn’t have power. Still, we weren’t stuck three floors up. The kids didn’t care. They had lots of adult attention.

Meals were interesting. I don’t think I want Fritos again anytime soon. (With my allergies, choices were even more limited.) In the evening, Cassie found an open Walmart and brought home food.

She told us, “This was all that was left. The shelves were stripped of everything else.”

As the power was still out later in the day, Cassie and Kurt went to the Fairfield, packed up all our stuff, and checked us out. Now there would be twelve staying in the house. But Cassie found a place for everyone to sleep.

Before then, between 8 and 9 pm, we heard a click, lights flickered and came on. The refrigerator began to hum. We had power! We never appreciated it more. Early on, I chose to consider the whole thing as an adventure--even going down the stairs with only a flashlight for light.

In fact, I didn’t hear complaints from anyone in the house, only ways to make things work and be thankful for what we had, a safe place to hang out, food to eat--even if not our choice, and loving family with which to share our adventure.

Sunday morning, we headed to Lincoln after lots of hugs and goodbyes. Power or no power, we’d made good memories--because we choose positive attitudes. And, isn’t that really the best way to live?

7/12/21 7/12/21

Blog Bio Becoming an author not easy, but you can do it

Some time ago I participated in the multi-author book signing hosted by Sequel Bookshop. I hadn’t done one since my bad fall in 2014, though I continue to write.

It was great to touch base with writer friends, meet other authors, and buy books from these authors. It was so much fun. It made me remember how my love of books and writing began.

Before I started school, I learned my alphabet and rhymed words with “at” –bat, cat, etc. By third grade, I wanted to be an author. I told stories. By fifth grade, I wrote them down. I was learning my craft by reading and writing.

Once my parents read some of my writing, they encouraged me. In high school, I entered a few contests and received some honorable mentions and positive feedback. When my family moved to Iowa for my dad to serve a country church, I met a published author who was part of our congregation.

She taught me about formatting, writing for the market, and how to submit. Under her guidance, I not only submitted my first pieces but also received payment for my work. I began writing for Sunday School papers as well as program pieces used in churches for their programs—and received regular paychecks.

I also wrote features but the effort to market was exhausting and the mountain of rejections for every sale—discouraging. Still, I continued to write, even getting a comprehensive degree in journalism from UNK (then KSC).

Now a resident of Kearney, I focused on short stories and nonfiction. A few years later, my friend Gloria gave me a novel for my birthday. She said, “You can do better than that.” I took up her challenge. I wrote and rewrote. Others, including Gloria, critiqued my writing. My transitions were rough. My character names didn’t always work.

Writers are told, “Write what you know.” What I knew was disabilities and how that changes the equation. Some feedback was, “Like your work, but we’re no longer doing fiction.”; “Has possibilities, but we just went into receivership.” This one floored me. “Nice story, but readers aren’t interested in heroines with disabilities.”

I wrote and rewrote a mystery novel over a ten-year period. (I am thankful my husband encouraged my writing.) Finally, an editor from a traditional publishing house took notice. She promised to get back to me. I waited. Before a decision was made, another editor took her place. I had to start all over again promoting my book to the new editor.

Eventually, the book was accepted, and I received a contract. Six months later, I held my first book in my hands. It had taken ten years of writing and over two years of marketing. With my very nice check, I purchased my first PC computer and went on to sell several more books for the Barbour Publishing Heartsong Presents line—two of which won awards.

Since then, I have worked with small presses all the way up to Harlequin Books—those romances you purchase in Walmart and Target and large bookstores. I have written both fiction and nonfiction and even a few books for children. I didn’t leave my journalism behind as I continued to write features and news articles.

For many years now I’ve written a column for the Kearney Hub. Though there have been huge changes in traditional publishing, it still takes effort, knowing the business, and a solid manuscript, time, and frustration to receive notice from an editor and a contract.

I still write my column, I started doing a newsletter each month for Kearney Christian Women’s Connection (KCWC) and I tried to publish a book a year while promoting older books. I have come a long way from the little girl who worked so hard to rhyme her words down the ABCs.

Most of all, I am thankful for the editors, writer friends, and my many friends and fans who’ve encouraged me over the years. As I slow down, I look back, thankful for the gift God gave me. I seek to use that gift to share truth, faith—and hope.

Over the years I lectured to writer’s organizations, at writer’s conferences, and assisted writers who wished to learn their craft and be published. Eventually, I redrafted my lectures into the well-received book for writers Especially for the Christian Writer -- How-to's, tips, information, and inspiration. It was one way I could give back for all the assistance I’d received along the way.

Every one of us at the signing were once want-to-be authors. Some had published only one book, others more. But we were invited to the signing because we persevered from idea to the finished book.

You, too, can reach others with your writing. It takes good ideas, patience, and learning the basics of writing and marketing. It takes perseverance, writing, and rewriting until the material shines and a willingness to listen to constructive criticism. Most of all, it means sitting down and writing.

Have an idea, think, research…and write. Maybe I’ll see you at an upcoming book signing.

5/10/21 5/10/21

Blog Thankful for people, park, laughter

We live across the street from Collins Park. Keith and I have lived here since the early days of our marriage. The house is built for my limitations by my brother Paul Fredrickson who was a local contractor. Having the park across the street has been a blessing in so many ways.

I am a bit claustrophobic, but with the park across the street rather than more houses, I don’t feel hemmed in. When our kids were small, we could go hang out across the street at the park on nice days. Over the years, family friends have used the park for any number of get-togethers and picnics. We’ve even attended an Easter Sunrise Service at the park.

Every Spring the cars started filling the roadway as baseball practice got underway. Then came the games throughout the summer, lights on till long after dark, and individuals yelling and cheering until we couldn’t wait for the game to end. My kids would beg money to spend on candy, etc. at the canteen. Once in a while, I even gave in.

In the early days, some thought nothing about blocking our drive with their cars, keeping us from getting out, but this pretty much stopped after a while. (I’ve wondered if my article about the problem made a difference.)

Other than game times, kids and families used the park all summer long. Families had reunions and other gatherings. Sometimes we didn’t have far to view fireworks when families shot them off at the park on Independence Day. During the summer, the park was filled with excited yells and laughter as children played on the equipment meant for their enjoyment. The laughter made me smile.

Then in the wake of the Covid-19 pandemic, all was silent. The park was off-limits to the children who needed activity and fun. When the wind blew, I sometimes heard the rattle of swing chains, but it was a lonely sound without the children.

The next year, I once again heard laughter at the park. Many walk by with their dogs at their heels. Kids ride by on bikes with friends. Even baseball is gearing up. More cars line the streets and baseball calls echo across the ballfield. At times in past years, the lights, sounds, cars, the overall noise level irritated me.

After the silence of Covid restrictions, I am glad to hear the laughter emanating from across the street. It almost relaxes me now. I smile and give thanks that despite the heartaches and frustrations of fear-based restrictions, Americans are strong and resilient, and we will not only survive—but also thrive.

I plan my life out a day at a time, so my posting schedule can be erratic.

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