Confidence OOZES!

FROM WHERE I SIT  CONFIDENCE OOZES  JAN. 27, 2014  PAT SPILSETH

Tickets to Sarah Bernhardt, a Letterman favorite star on TV, were a fabulous gift from our generous son this year at Christmastime.  We blew through icy, snow crusted roads and blurry views of another frigid Minnesota polar vortex into the Dakota, a hip jazz establishment downtown Minneapolis.  

A half hour late, Ms Bernhardt gyrated onto the stage bellering out lyrics to some contemporary tune we were too unsophisticated to recognize.  But we were aware of the designer dress she wore with plenty of decolletague and spikey Montaldos.  We’d heard those designer names from some TV show or novel about NYC.  She was the epitome of what must be the very current NY style of modern women.

It takes real chutzpah to belt out tunes with her voice and swing that almost 60 year old body on stage before hundreds of viewers.  Admirers of all ages chortled and hooted at her irreverent comments about Trader Joe’s, Whole Foods, travel...the works.  She was a cheeky broad!  Nothing was held back, including tales of her female partner from St. Lousi and their daughter’s teenage life.  “What’s in it for me” was her response to gay marriage.  She was bored with Prague, viewing the city as basically a plague on her travels.  Paris is the epitome of travel kudos, sipping cafes at a bistro, savoring buttery, flaky croissants while admiring the Seine and elegant passer-bys.  

Thank god, Dave had removed his white team sweatshirt and showed up in a Midwestern V-neck sweater and button-down collared shirt and cords.  My turtleneck sweater and wool socks typed us to be dyed-in-the-wool MInnesotans, which we knew she was poking fun at.  But we laughed along with the other wool and cords crowd.  No slinky silk, bare to the waist dresses and tux did we don that bone-chilling evening.

Will Phil See His Shadow? Jan. 27, 2014

FROM WHERE I SIT  WILL PHIL SEE HIS SHADOW?  JAN. 27, 2014  

P.D. SPILSETH

Will spring ever arrive?   According to folklore, spring’s arrival is determined by a groundhog.  February 2, Groundhog Day, is that fateful day when we check to see if the groundhog/hedgehog will emerge from his hole and see his shadow or not.  That animal’s risky forcast determines the weather.

In western countries in the Northern Hemisphere, the official first day of spring is almost seven weeks (46–48 days) after Groundhog Day, on March 20 or March 21.  Here in MInnesota, we’ll still have endless months of cold, wind and snow to endure.  Then come the rains, umbrellas, mud, boots and mess. It’s a LONG way until summer!  

According to my internet searches, one popular tradition tells me that there has been only one Punxsutawney Phil, the famous groundhog who gets his longevity from drinking "groundhog punch". One sip, administered every summer at the Groundhog Picnic, gives him seven more years of life.

On February 2, Phil comes out of his burrow on Gobbler's Knob, in front of thousands of faithful followers from all over the world, to predict the weather for the rest of the winter.  According to legend, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter weather. If he does not see his shadow, there will be an early spring. 

The celebration of Groundhog Day began with the Germans, Pennsylvania's earliest settlers. They brought with them the legend of Candlemas Day, which states "For as the sun shines on Candlemas day, so far will the snow swirl in May...".  Settlers found that groundhogs were plentiful and were the most intelligent and sensible animal to carry on the legend of Candlemas Day.

Groundhog Day organizers believe that the rodents' forecasts are accurate 75% to 90% of the time.  The StormFax Weather Almanac and records kept since 1887 say that Punxsutawney Phil's weather predictions have been correct 39% of the time.   National Climatic Data Center describes the forecasts as "on average, inaccurate" and stated that "The groundhog has shown no talent for predicting the arrival of spring, especially in recent years."

The groundhog has been featured in several films.  At the end of Disney's 1930 Silly Symphonies short film Winter, Mr. Groundhog, the Weather Prophet, comes out of his hole to determine whether or not there will be more winter. At first, he does not see his shadow, but the clouds clear and his shadow appears, causing him to run back inside. At this point, the winds picks up again and winter continues.

The 1993 comedy movie Groundhog Day takes place in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania.  The main character, played by Bill Murray, is forced to relive the day over and over again until he can learn to give up his selfishness and become a better person.

In Franklin and the Grump, Mr. Groundhog didn't want to participate in Groundhog Day any more because there were always those who were upset regardless of what he predicted so he officially canceled the holiday.  But the title character told his friends and family about the problem, and the entire community gathered to give him a day just for him.

Punxsutawney held its first Groundhog Day in the 1800's.  A similar custom is celebrated among Orthodox Christians in Serbia on February 15, when the bear awakens from winter dormancy.  If in his sleepy and confused state the bear sees its own shadow, it will get scared and go back to sleep for an additional 40 days, prolonging the winter.  If it is sunny, that’s a sign that winter is not over yet. If it’s cloudy, it’s a good sign that the winter is about to end.

Traditions and superstitions spice up our winter woes.  If we believe that the groundhog can predict the weather, believe the predictions of The Farmers’ Almanac as gospel truth and work the Ouija board to determine our future, we’re in for lots of surprises.  There are few, if any, trusted predictors of the future. 

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WIGS, GIRDLES & GOOD ABS!

FROM WHERE I SIT Wigs,Girdles & Good Abs    JAN. 17, 2014  

PAT SPILSETH

History has interesting tidbits of information of how folks lived their lives in the past.  Personal hygiene habits through the years have changed drastically.  We’re almost manically into health issues today, but in the past, as incredible as it sounds, men and women used to take baths only twice a year (May and October).  Today, many of us take daily showers, but a relaxing bath takes too much time for hurried people.  

Many modern day men and women color their hair, especially the roots, with age-defying colors, henna or bleach.  In much earlier days, women used to keep their hair covered, while men shaved their heads because of lice and bugs and wore wigs. Wealthy men could afford good wigs made from wool, but they couldn't wash those wigs.  In order to clean the wigs, they would carve out a loaf of bread, put the wig in the shell, and bake it for 30 minutes. The heat would make the wig big and fluffy, hence the term 'big wig'. Today we often use the term 'here comes the Big Wig' because someone appears to be or is powerful and wealthy.  Mom used to say “Don’t get the Big Head” meaning don’t be proud or flamboyant.  Remember, we Scandinavians were taught to be humble, not cause attention to ourselves.  

Personal hygiene throughout history has room for improvement.  As a result, many women and men developed acne scars by adulthood. In the past, women would spread bee's wax over their facial skin to smooth out their complexions. When they were speaking to each other, if a woman began to stare at another woman's face she was told, 'mind your own bee's wax.' Should the woman smile, the wax would crack, hence the term 'crack a smile'. In addition, when they sat too close to the fire, the wax would melt. Therefore, the expression 'losing face.'

Acne was a problem for most of us in high school, another problem to deal with in those teenage years.  We had tubes of Clearasil, the vanishing acne cream, to to hide zits’ red blotches on our faces and necks.  Dandruff was a problem especially in the dry winter, but special shampoos, like Head and Shoulders, cleared the white flakes from our scalps.

Ladies wore corsets years ago, which would lace up in the front.  A proper and dignified woman, as in 'straight laced' wore a tightly tied lace.  The corset would cinch in her waist, but push up bust and enlarge hips.  Though today’s women might wear Spanx to suck that cupcake roll around the waist, few gals today wear girdles that many of our moms wore to slim their tummies and hold up their nylon stockings.  Remember nylons, that sheer fabric on our legs that always had runs and bagged in the knees?  How about garter belts that always pinched our skin when we sat down?  Who even owns a pair of nylons today?  Many women wear tights in the winter if she has a skirt or a dress, but pants are now acceptable at work, church, concerts.  In the summertime we bare our legs, hoping to get them tan, like those “tan” colored nylons we used to wear. 

Foot fungus or athletes feet erupted between toes that got too moist.  Though we had mandatory showers in phy-ed classes, time constraints often caused us to not dry our toes well: moisture accumulated and brought on athletes’ foot problems.  Powders sifted into clean, white cotton socks provided the drying powder for affected toes.  Dark colored socks and colored underwear were thought to cause hygiene problems for guys and gals. Those rarely washed towels stored in our smelly storage baskets in the phy-ed lockers probably contributed to hygience problems.  Just think of the very personal, cleanliness issues folks from past eras had when they rarely bathed!  Powder and perfumes can’t cover months-old body odors.

How our health habits have changed through the years!  Today, phy-ed classes are needed more than ever with the obesity levels skyrocketing among all ages. Gym and health club memberships are climbing, offering hot tubs, pools, showers and saunas...we’re really into cleanliness today.  But what’s happened to our eating habits?  We’re a nation of overweight people sitting at computers, eating too much fat, causing our cholesterol and blood pressure levels to rise. Check out those abs in the black and white photos.Today we’re a huge contrast to our grandparents, who worked long hours at household, field and barn chores without modern-day conveniences.   Check out those abs in the black and white photos.  Grandpa and Grandma might not have smelled so good, but most of their bodies were rock-solid trim.    799 words

Before TV Consumes Our Lives

FROM WHERE I SIT  Before Television Consumed Lives Jan. 8, 2014  pat spilseth

So much for those well-meaning New Year’s resolutions.  It’s too cold outdoors to be cross-country skiing or take the dog for a brisk walk.  Buddy, my Beagle pal, dashes in and out in record time for his poddy breaks.   I haven’t seen anybody walking in my neighborhood for days.

 A jigsaw puzzle showing Minnesota’s favorite features is set up on the oak table in front of windows facing the lake.  Contented, I can sit for hours piecing the puzzle together while I check on fishermen heading out to their ice houses.  It’s so cold that no skaters, skiers or snowmobilers venture onto the frozen lake, only those die-hard fishermen heading for their man caves.

It’s too easy in this inclement weather to escape to mindless surfing the television or internet.  Today’s newspaper had an article on a research report that the average American spends more than 24 hours per week or 1/7 of their lives watching television.  The writer used 84 years as an average human’s life span.  He stated that for many, 11.71 years of life is spent watching the tube.  Makes you think about how we waste time, doesn’t it?

I’ve been reading, baking and piecing puzzles together, but I long for someone who will talk to me, face to face.  Dave, my husband, has escaped our current deep freeze weather to fly to Florida for tennis tournaments.  He’s staying with Fast Eddie, our NY brother-in-law, who has endless, funny car salesman stories.  Kate has returned to her teaching job in Mexico City, where the weather is usually in the 70’s and low 80’s, and Andy is busy working on his house and his job.  Buddy, my snoring Beagle on the couch, doesn’t talk people words.  However, his listening vocabulary is rather large.  He knows all the words for food: breakfast, lunch, dinner, treat, bone... He awakes only for more food, to sit on my lap while we read the paper and an occasional poddy break.  

Remember when people used to play games when the weather was so cold outdoors that they had to stay inside?  We’d play Monopoly, that endless game of buying properties like Boardwalk or Venetian Place and hoping to avoid jail as our marker rounded the board.  Cootie was another favorite game at our house when I was little, putting together that ugly bug, a cootie.  The magical, mysterious Ouija talking board gave my friends and me endless hours of entertainment; it was enticing to get yes or no answers and learn the name of a boy who liked me when the board spelled out his name.  These games sparked our imaginations, essential tools of growing up.

Punching out paper dolls from the plasticized sheet, dressing the dolls with clothing that attached to their bodies with little tabs that folded over, and imagining exciting lives for them kept me happy for hours.  I didn’t need a friend to interact with when I played paperdolls, just my imagination.  I remember sitting on the living room floor, cutting out the clothing models in the Sears Catalogue and creating stories.  The doll house I got for Christmas was a two story “modern” home with wallpaper, rugs, light sconces, paintings and even a fireplace painted on the tin walls.  Hanging tools were painted on the garage walls, and shrubbery adorned the exterior of the beautiful home.  I could rearrange the furniture as I pleased from the living room couch, chair and lamp to the formal dining room’s table and chairs with a buffet and china closet.  The bedroom had a double bed, end tables and a vanity, and the bathroom had a fancy corner tub...huge by 1950’s standards.  Of course, I was certain that “rich” people must live in such a fancy house.  

Kids would play Rummy and Old Maid , Hangman, Jacks and Pick Up Sticks.  My baby sister Barbie and I would assemble all our dolls to play act scenes of babysitters and crying babie.  We’d rock the life-sized dolls to sleep in my little red rocking chair.  I’d practice walking my Christmas present, a “walking doll”, though she was rather stiff and needed lots of help.  All too soon I’d have to put her back in her cardboard box and “save” the doll.  She remains in her box to this day.  What was I saving her for?  I played with this doll so rarely, she never got a name.  When the upstairs women’s jail was empty of prisoners, Dad would let kids play in the cells.  That was a scary, thrill for most of the kids, but we loved to feel scared!

We played outdoors almost every day.  In the winter kids would congregate at the ice rink to skate or sled on the hills at home or at the football field.  We’d build snow forts, jump into snowbanks and flop in the snow to flap our arms and legs to make snow angels.

In the summertime, our backyards became stages for plays we’d create.  Most of us loved to read adventure stories from books at the library and see Saturday movies at the Glenwood Theatre.  Zorro and his black stallion was my favorite.  We had a great time pretending to be movie stars in our backyard stages.     My friends and I would collect discarded bridesmaids gowns from the neighbors, veils and hats that we’d put on and form parades in our finery.  When we tired of parading up, down and around the lawn, we’d switch to running around the Courtnouse lawn playing cops and robbers.  We’d  playing ante, ante over the log house on the Courthouse grounds and chase each other up and down the hill to the weeping willow tree where we’d climb high into the branches to hide.  What a perfect place to share secrets with best pals as we sat on the thick branches and leaned back against another branch perfectly placed for our comfort.  The willow was so full of leaves we were fully hidden from view of grownups.  Tired of sitting, we’d climb out of the willow’s limbs and swing on the tall swing set Dad had built.

Though the weather is awful, and I’m sneezing and coughing,  it’s time to turn off the TV and reset my imagination to START.  When I think of how much I enjoyed being a kid, I know there’s more fun to be had than sitting in front of the TV, even in these later years of life. 1100 words

RESOLVE TO MOVE FORWARD

FROM WHERE I SIT  RESOLVE TO MOVE FORWARD  12/30/13   P.D. Spilseth

New Year resolutions are often broken by the second day of the new year.  Stephen Covey, author of SEVEN HABITS OF HIGHLY EFFECTIVE PEOPLE,  has compiled 10 basic things we must give up to MOVE FORWARD.  Here’s the list I hope to follow in 2014.  Maybe it’ll work for some of you too.

#1  Letting the opinions of others control your life.  

    It’s what you think about yourself that truly counts.  I have to do things that are best for me and my life, not what’s best for others. We women often sacrifice what we want to eat or do or change our opinions to not displease others.  Phooey!  It’s time for each of us to think for ourselves.  I want to take time this week to think about what’s important in my life and try to follow those ideas.  For several years I’ve told myself that I want to paint, play the piano, bike, read books that will stretch my brain.  This January is the time to start on that list.  

#2  The shame of past failures.

    The past is behind us; the future is whatever we want it to be.  It’s sometimes difficult to believe those words, but what matters is what we do right now.  A friend never tried skiing because she was afraid of falling; she didn’t open a business for fear of failure.  If we never try something new we’ll never experience the thrill of flying down a ski hill, the satisfaction of writing a column, tasting an exotic food...

#3  Being indecisive about what you want.

    Wishy-washing thinking only stimes people.  Covey says, figure out what you want, then pursue it passionately.  It’s so easy to question whether I really want to visit the Art Institute or the Russian Art Museum.  Should be go to Florida or to Mexico or California or Montreal?  Always questionning; I never get to anything!  I need to prioritize.  

#4  Procrastingating on the goals that matter to you.

    Covey says that we have two primary choices: accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them.  So I never got to Greece or Vermont or back to Provance; I never wrote the book I’d planned to write ten years ago, when I felt passionate about the idea.  The second best time is to do it now.

#5 Choosing to do nothing.

    You and I can’t choose how or when we’re going to die, but we can decide how we’re going to live.  Every day is a new chance to choose.  Remember Abraham Lincoln said that every morning when he got up, he had a choice: to be happy or not.  Each of us has choices, every single day.  We can stay in bed and pout or get up, smile and get moving. 

#6  Your need to be right.

    Aim for success, but never give up the right to be wrong.  If we don’t try new things, and possibably fail, we’ll lose the ability to learn new things and move forward with our lives.  It’s worth being wrong or bad at something if we discover new ideas and talents in our lives.  At our neighbor’s monthly Pasta Feed, I tend to be somewhat conservative in my political opinions, but I listen to the flaming liberals and Tea Party guests.  I evaluate and learn, sometimes deciding that my ideas weren’t the best.  I can be wrong; I can change.  That’s an individual’s perogrative.

#7  Running from problems that should be fixed.

    Covey writes, “Stop running!”  Face the issues and fix the problems.  He wants each of us to communicate (I think he must mean face-to-face, not by texting or e-mails), appreciate, forgive and LOVE the poeple in your life who deserve it.   Not everyone deserves our appreciation, but it doesn’t cost a thing to tell someone you enjoy being with them.  Compliments are so appreciated by the receiver; the giver will feel good too. 

#8  Making excuses rather than decisions

    Most failures are the outcome of people who make excuses instead of decisions.  

In this frigid weather of this winter, I excuse myself from taking walks with Buddy, my Beagle who’s always ready to run, no matter the weather.  Instead, I can bundle up in warm caps, scarves, boots and my down coat and brave the elements.  Both Buddy and I would be trimmer, sleep better and good!  If not a walk in the woods, I could walk on the treadmill.  I won’t make excuses; I’ll just do it!

#9  Overlooking the positive points in your life.

    What we see often depends entirely on what we’re looking for.  If we’re not thankful for the good things in life right now, it’s difficult to be happy.  Look up at the full moon and stars shining brightly on cold winter evenings.  Enjoy the sun brightening our gray, winter days, snow draped over the falling boughs of pine trees, walking with a friend as snow gently falls; reading by the fireplace; slipping into fresh sheets and bundling in down blankets and quilts...  So many little things can make me smile.

#10  Not appreciating the present moment.

    The greatest part of life is made up of tiny things.  Too often we want something BIG to happen.  We have awesome goals and expectations, but our greatest enjoyment can be on our way to achieving that goal.  I found that I can lose track of time when I see the watercolors swirl and bleed into each other.  When I sit at the computer to compose a column, it feels  great when my fingers start typing all my themselves.  Soon an idea is born into a column.  It feels good.

Motivalional speaker Dale Carnegie wrote, ‘WE ALL HAVE POSSIBILITIES WE DON’T KNOW ABOUT.   WE CAN DO THE THING WE DON’T EVEN DREAM WE CAN DO.”

2014 is here.  It’ll be just what I want it to be.  I just have to believe!  1005 words

Winter Dreaming

from where i sit    WINTER DREAMING    JAN. 6, 2014  PAT SPILSETH

A friend just sent Neil Gaiman’s New Year’s wishes for 2014 to me.  I’m sending them on to you:

“May your coming year by filled with magic and dreams and good madness.  I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can.  And I hope, somewhere in the next year you surprise yourself.”

Determined to make 2014 a more productive year, my plans for January have already been stifled.  Though I had big ideas to play the piano, set up a fresh canvas on the easel to begin painting, and write some fabulous ideas that come to me in dreams, sneezes and my constantly dripping nose have exhausted me.  So much for good intentions, those resolutions will have to wait.  

My stuffed up head is full of mucus; my ears are plugged; my sore throat aches with sneezes and coughing, and I can’t read with these watery eyes that need to be wiped constantly.  Though I strive to catch the ever-constant drips from my nose with tissues of coarse kleenex, I’d reather be using those soft hankies Mom saved for me.  They’re someplace,  in a special box in some safe place, but I haven’t been able to discover where.  My nose is on fire, flaring red and swollen, even though I’ve coated it with with Vaseline and Vicks.   Old wives tales used to tell me that a large, red nose was the sign of a person with alcohol issues.  Nope, I’m not there, but a glass of wine in the evening is somewhat comforting to this aching, cold-ridden body of mine.

My husband Dave has escaped our deep freeze weather.   Flying south to the relative warmth of Florida, he’s playing in numerous tennis tournaments with pals wintering in the South.  Fast Eddie, our funny brother-in-law, the super car salesman from New York, has invited Dave to join him to his house in Fort Meyers for some relaxing in the pool, hot tub time, good stories and lots of fresh fish dinners.   Daily, Big Ed at 6’6” holds court in the community’s hot tub, where he is the Florida entertainer of the year.  Dave is full of great stories when he returns to Minnesota.  I wonder if he’ll decide it’s time for us to join the snowbirds basking in January and February’s sunshine.

Meanwhile, Buddy, my slumbering, snoring Beagle pal, and I are hibernating inside our warm house with outside temps below zero and a landscape encased in white from the frozen lake to snow-covered lawns to frost coated windowpanes.  

But we’re happy.  Each of us is in our own comfort cocoon.  A jigsaw puzzle is laid out on a table by the window and a new stack of books awaits me. I’ve made hot chicken soup to soothe my cold; Buddy is snoozing on the couch with his favorite afghan covering nose and rear; the radio is playing soft jazz and the coffee is warm.  Life is good right here in Minnesota.

Cardinals and sparrows are feeding at the kitchen window’s seed cylinder; squirrels are flying through the limbs of the maples outside my window, and the frozen lake is silent, absent of any people moving about.  Not one skier, snowmobiler or skater is active on the lake today.  Most everyone is immobolized with these -50 degree wind chills.  More deep freeze temps are predicted tomorrow, but the weekend will be a balmy 30 degrees.  Such is the ever-constant changing temperature cycle in Minnesota.  Stay warm and cozy.

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