Ice Fishing Magic

Thursday, December 26, 2013

Ice Fishing Magic

FROM WHERE I SIT   Ice Fishing Magic    Dec. 25, 2013  Pat DeKok Spilseth

Ice houses are beginning to appear on the frozen lakes in Minnetonka.  Are ice-fishing men escaping Christmas noise and confusion at home?  Are gals hoping to avoid piles of discarded gift wrappings and dirty dishes?  On Carman’s Bay, kids are skating on shoveled rinks at a neighbor’s home; dogs are running, pulling hard on the cross country skier braving the frigid temperatures, and snowmobilers are flying across the lake in front of our house.  

Tracks are messing with the smooth blanket of fresh snow.  In our yard and down the sidewalk are hundreds of rabbit tracks.  Buddy, our aging Beagle, gets so excited to sniff their tracks, sure he can find the bunnies.  His attention is diverted when he sniffs the scent of racoons under the deck of our house or sees squirrels flying up the trees.  Hope is eternal for our precocious hound who spends his time eating, sleeping or chasing fresh scents in our electronically-fenced yard.  WIthout the electric fence around the property, who knows where Buddy would run to catch rabbits, dogs and cats in the neighborhood.  He’s a full-bloodied hound, determined to catch something, some time!

Buddy got a Christmas present from Charlotte, the new dog in our neighborhood.  She and her mom wrapped several tasty bones in cellaphane and left them in our mailbox.  Immediately, Buddy knew the treat was for him.  Christmas morning he ate three bones in a matter of minutes.  When I asked if he wanted to share the treats, I got an angry snarl...they’re MINE, implied Buddy very strongly. 

Though Carmen’s Bay is nothing like Crappie Town, USA, of Glenwood fame back in the 50’s, we usually have about a half dozen ice house of various colors and styles on the lake in front of our house.  When I was a kid, “Life Magazine” came to Glenwood to photograph the colorful lake village of ice houses with metal street signs, dogs, skating kids and fishermen, then printed a special edition of the favorite magazine.   Lake MInnewaska in Glenwood has always attracted people who like to fish and enjoy spending days and even nights on the frozen water in their cozy houses.  They cook coffee and eat snacks while checking their red and white bobbers for nibbling fish.  I’ve heard that some folks play cards and even do a bit of gambling.

No ice boats have flown across Carmen’s Bay so far this winter.  There’s only a smidgen of time when the ice is smooth, uncluttered by snow drifts and icy ridges, for the fast boats to sail across the ice.  Their helmeted, high-speed riders fear few dangers as they careen across the frozen water.  One of our neighbors grew up on the lake so he always carries ice picks to stick in the ice, hoping to pull himself out of the water if he would break through the ice.  When Dick careens across the mirror of ice, unhalted by pressure ridges or burps of ice chunks, I’m sure he feels that he’s a rider to the sky.

Fishermen and women have a look of contentment.  Bundled in wool or flannel shirts, insulated underwear, down coats, boots, hats and glovers, they know their days of quiet solitude will stretch on for at least one more month.  Sitting in dark sheds on the ice waiting for “Wally the Walleye” is a relaxing experience.  The experience is open only to those who brave the frigid weather for a few hours of solitude on the frozen lake.  

Televisions, IPhones and radios would spoil this aura of contentment.  There’s a haunting magic surrounding ice fishing.  In today’s busy world with its complicated problems of health care, raising kids, paying bills, and aging, a candle-lit ice house is the perfect solace many seek.  It’s grand to just do nothing, just sit and stare into the icy water hole.  Ice fishing is satisfying in its simplicity...as long as the propane stove keeps the coffee warm and pumps out heat to thaw freezing fingers and toes.  690 words

JOY TO THE WORLD!

FROM WHERE I SIT  JOY TO THE WORLD! 12/16/13 Pat DeKok Spilseth

When Christmas arrives and the radio is playing carols, many of us recall the words we memorized as little kids practicing for school and church programs.  Guests will be arriving at our house for the holidays, so I’m practicing the songs that Miss Rahn taught me to play many years ago.  We’ll eat too much, remember past holiday joys and sing carols around the piano.  However, now I sit on the piano missing sharps and flats of songs I used to play perfectly.  Though my playing technique has suffered, I remember most of the words to “Joy To the World, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, Angels from the Realms of Glory, and Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”    

Inside the piano bench, I found little paper song books that Mom had saved years ago.  Familiar carols are printed in the songbook; some of the pamphlets have the Christmas story from Luke 2:1-20.  One booklet, a customer’s gift from the Pope County State Bank of Glenwood and Villard, has colorful Victorian illustrations of Charles Dickens’ tale, “A Christmas Carol”.   Scrooge has a sharply defined jaw with glaring eyes; Tiny Tim is perched on his father’s shoulders waving his crutch.  The booklet prints the tale of Marley’s Ghost, the Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.  

Brownie’s Service gave customers a booklet of Season’s Greetings with a cover picture of a choir of young boys with large bow ties on their red and white robes.  Printed inside are the words and music of favorite English songs like “Good King Wenceslas, The Wassail Song and God Rest You Merry Gentlemen.”

Forbord Oil Company gave a songbook of 17 carols.  Printed on the back cover is Luke’s Christmas story.   Esther, my Mom, also saved a pamphlet from the Bank of Willmar, which has the words to “Home Sweet Home” and its refrain ending with “There’s no place like home!”  Isn’t that phrase so true?   In this season of merriment, many return to homes they grew up in to be with loved ones.  For lucky folks, family is still living at the old home place.  On the back page are the music and words to “The Star-Spangled Banner”.   The figures and scenes, illustrated by Christopher Wray, have nativity scenes, candles lit on Christmas trees, fireplaces burning, and horses pulling sleighs filled with happy folks.  Good feelings come through the illustrations and messages, just like Norman Rockwell’s paintings and magazine covers.

In Glenwood, my home town, everybody knew everyone in the fifties and sixties.  It was a holiday tradition for businesses to reward their customers with a small gift of appreciation.  I remember that we received calendars, can openers, pencils, wooden rulers, paring knives and letter openers.  The name of the business was printed on the gift, a good advertising tool used by business owners to tell their customers they appreciated their business.  In a small town, it’s tough to own a business if townspeople drive to larger towns to buy from big box stores, where few clerks know the names of their customers or even care if we shop there.

In Glenwood, the clerks would call me Patty when I’d go into Harry’s & Myrtle’s Corner Grocery Store and tell them “Please put it on our charge”.  Marie knew me at Bob’s meat market and at Potters’ Dime Store Dolly, the energetic, smiley clerk, knew I favored the penny candy shelves and maple nut goodies.   At Wimpy’s, where Dad ate breakfast with the guys, Doris and Erv staffed the counter, and at Dick’s Recreation Hall, the guys playing pool in the back room knew my name.  After all, several had celebrated Christmas at the jail with my family around the Christmas tree.  

Treasures like these little songbooks reflect a kinder, gentler time of life.  Life wasn’t so rushed and simple tokens of appreciation were valued.  Silent nights and the full moon over the frozen lake slow me down, letting me enjoy reading Christmas cards, the lights on the tree and anticipate my family coming home for the holidays.  

Merry Christmas to you and your families!  707 words

DO YOU HAVE THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT?

FROM WHERE I SIT   Do You Have the Christmas Spirit?  12/10/13  P.D. SPILSETH

I had been dreaming of a white Christmas.  No more!  Tossing and turning at night, trying to stay warm under umpteen down comforters, wool socks, and flannel pajamas, tonight I’m thinking about wearing a wool night cap, like the guy in “Twas the night before Christmas.”  I can’t get warm!  It’s snowed almost every day for a week.  When will the whiteness and frigid weather end?

Trudging through snowbanks to the mailbox for the morning paper, I look up into the early morning sky, and my grumpy mood recedes.  Stars are blazing in the clear, black sky.  I don’t know the names of all the constellations that are on display, but they’re up there performing their magic on my senses.  It is a beautiful sight.   By midmorning, when I look out at the sun brightening the snow blanketed lake with patterned gray shadows, the scene is a picture postcard.  

Though the sun eventually causes the thermometer to rise a teeny bit, whooshing winds blow blasts of stinging cold against the rattling windows of our house.  How lucky I am that I don’t have to shovel the walk or get into a cold car and drive to work.   I can sit inside writing a column or put together a jigsaw puzzle in front of the frosty windows.  It’s a candyland world outdoors.  Tall pines and black branches are frosted with white icing.  The branches remind me of chocolate candy sticks against today’s snowball sun.  

The furnace is overactive this morning.  It belches warmth, whistling heat through the registers.  Ours is a 1950s house with large windows overlooking the lake: my brain can’t help but compute astronomical heating bills.  Even though we’ve replaced windows and added insulation, it’s still cold.  We try to be environmentally conscious: every evening our house thermometer automatically lowers its reading to 55 degrees.  That’s perfect sleeping temperature for my body covered with down blankets and piled high with mountains of patchwork quits.  

Though I look forward to Christmas holiday mail and company, my festive spirits are dipping this year.  Christmas carols are playing on the radio, and my egg beaters are whirling.  The smells of cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg permeate the kitchen, but I’m dreading shopping for that overwhelming, Christmas shopping list.  I used to love the hustle and bustle of Christmas shoppers, but now I hate going to the stores to fight crowds, braving icy, snow-packed streets, and wearing heavy coats, boots and hats.  I’d prefer staying at home in a warm house.

Today’s Big Box stores feature common items that can be found in every store.  Often they’re priced to be a bargain because discount coupons litter each morning newspaper.  Shoppers are becoming so used to receiving coupons, why would anyone purchase something at full price?  

Growing up in Glenwood, shopping was easy.  Potters’ Dime store was my shopping haven.  I could buy a holiday box of Life Savers for my little sister Barbie, ribbon candy for Mom, and chocolates for Dad.  If I had saved enough allowance money, I could shop for a beautiful china figurine or a candy dish at Callaghans’ Hardware.   I could afford prices at these shops and still have money for a movie at the Glenwood Theatre, where Santa stopped in his sleigh to see the kids.  When Dad shopped for Mom, he’d go to Glenwear, the fancy shop of women’s clothing.   That’s where he found the red dress with a circle skirt and rhinestone buttons, Mom’s favorite  dress.  And at Irgens’ Men’s Store, we’d purchase a Pendleton wool plaid shirt for Dad and maybe a box of handkies.  Christmas shopping could be done in an hour or two.  Small town Mom & Pop stores were great!   Every clerk knew every shopper’s name, and it was easy to get into the Christmas spirit!   

In the Cities, many of us miss those individually owned stores that used to line the Nicollet Mall like Harolds, Peck and Peck, Napier, Schlamps, Young-Quinlin and Daytons’ classy department store.   Sure, prices were not discounted like today’s common selection, but each store had a uniqueness, an individuality.   Special items would tantalize our eyes and urge folks to open their wallets.  Most shoppers probably couldn’t afford to buy huge bundles of things, but what they got was special.  The unique selection of treasures was hard to resist.  There’s always been something exhilaritating and intoxicating about unique, just out-of-reach treasures one rarely finds.   

When I was a kid and December arrived, my folks would make our once a year trip to the Cities to see the Christmas windows on the Nicollet Mall.  I can still feel the magic in my tummy when I remember staring wide-eyed at Daytons’ window displays of glittering, sparkly items and moving figures.   Holiday windows had crowds glued to their windows, jostling for a better view.  It was a magical scene.  Everyone got into the holiday spirit: young, old, rich and poor.   Truth be told, I didn’t really expect to buy or receive any of these miracularous treasures under our tree at home.   We didn’t have much money, but we sure enjoyed looking at those decorated Christmas windows.  We dreamed about them for weeks. 879 words

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas

FROM WHERE I SIT DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS 11/24/13  P.D. SPILSETH

Welcome December!  The month of Christmas cheer is finally here with all the excitement of the holiday season.  Who can resist smiling when we see the splendid decorations, inspiring music, gaily wrapped gifts under the tree and family gatherings?  Meals will be extra special: at my house, tradition demands that we feast on lefse, turkey or meatballs, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, cranberries and krensakke for dessert.  

A whiteout would be fabulous.  The full-blown Minnesota blizzards, like the ones we had in the Fifties, would be grand.  Winter snowstorms were the most fun when we didn’t have to drive cars over the icy roads, shovel driveways or find a way to get to work.  Kids had no worries, just fun playing in the powdery snow.  

  

For weeks, I’ve been dreaming of a white Christmas.  It doesn’t feel like Christmas to me unless snowflakes are floating through the sky and white drifts make deeps snowbanks outside my windows.   In past years, we have enjoyed celebrating Thanksgiving in Mexico with turkey, mashed potatoes and cranberries at Sol’s alley kitchen in Puerta Vallarta, but it wasn’t quite like Thanksgiving is supposed to be.   The weather has to be cold and snowy.  I couldn’t imagine Christmas in any other climate but my own.  I’d enjoy a snowy day with a frozen lake of skaters and skiers, fire in the fireplace, a decorated pine tree and family.  

The Saturday Evening Post magazine printed an article this month on Christmas Trends.  Did you know that 400 million people celebrate Christmas around the world?  Santa’s been keeping track of the naughty and nice kids since the 1930’s.  In America we leave a plate of Christmas cookies and a glass of milk by the tree for the jolly guy, but in Norway and Sweden, Santa snacks on rice pudding.    Both North America and Scandinavia claim Santa as a permanent resident.  This fall Dave and I visited Santa Claus, Indiana, with its year-around decorated streets of Santas, Christmas trees and elves.  Though I enjoy a month or more of the holiday, I know it would get old if I saw Christmas decorations 365 days of the year.

In America 93% of people exchange gifts.  Diamond and jewelry sales top $6 million dollars.  It amazed me to read that parents spent an average of $271 per child in 2012.   And who doesn’t buy at least one or two poinsettias to add color to our homes?  There are at least 100 varieties of poinsettias now available at the florist, grocery and drug stores.  Here in the U.S. we produce enough candy canes to circle the equator 6.7 times...we are gluttons for sweet treats.

I’m looking forward to reading Christmas cards from friends.  Hopefully, they’ll include a  newsy letter telling about their families and photos of growing children and grandchildren.  My husband is busy creating his annual Christmas epistle.  I wonder...who will he be this year?  Will Dave be the Grinch spewing his political views, garnering the ire of some readers or the cheapskate who swears by the values of the Tightwad Gazette?   Hopefully, he’ll be jolly old Saint Nick, doing his annual, last minute Christmas Eve shopping for surprise presents.  I’ve told him, many times, no vacuum cleaners, hammers or candles for me this year...PLEASE~  568