UPDATE -- McCorkells take a mini-trip to enjoy Fall
We took a mini trip east ... to Scandia, Minnesota, and Osceola, Wisconsin. Most of our time was spent walking around the grounds of the Swedish Museum in Scandia. We never did go inside the museum as my goal was to enjoy the weather and get some photos.
UPDATE -- Eric Anderson runs half-marathon race
I imagine it sounds a tad cliché, but I don't think the whole thing got real to me until I was standing in the starting chute, waiting for the gun to start the race.
For about a year and a half now, I've been running. It started on the treadmill. I would do five-minute increments, and then rest for two minutes, then do another five running. I slowly worked my way up to more time with fewer breaks, and then I finally made the jump outdoors -- where I soon learned that running on pavement is a completely different animal than running on milled tread. I had to start the whole process over again, almost from scratch.
Fast forward to this past spring. I'm in decent shape coming out of the winter. I've developed a good running stride, and I'm stronger than I've ever been. Add in some life-altering plot devices, and you've got the perfect set-up for a guy ready to run his first half-marathon. So began the training that brought me to Mankato on a dreary Saturday at dawn.
Like I said, none of it felt real at first. When Ben and I went to get our race packets, I was sure mine wasn't going to be there, that they'd realized there was no way this guy was going to run all that way, but sure enough, there was my goodie bag, and nestled down inside was my very own number: 913. The rest of that night was a blur of pasta and ugly hotel lobbies.
The day of the race -- it was actually the inaugural Mankato marathon -- we got up bright and early. I was worried about a bad back and bum knee, but both felt OK as we made our way across town to the starting area. Throughout this entire ride I felt surreal, outside of myself almost. How could this be me, the guy who once weighed 320 pounds, getting ready to run 13.1 miles?
We arrived in the pre-dawn gloom, a slight drizzle settling over the masses. The kind that never really gets you wet, just makes everything feel damp and clammy. I could tell Ben was having a bout of anxiety, what with the way he kept fidgeting, but I was calm and collected. I surprised myself even! I thought by then I'd be a bundle of nerves, ready to bolt at a thunder clap, but that didn't happen. I had this "what will be, will be" attitude, and it seemed like nothing was going to shake that.
Until I got to the start line, that is. That was when my heart began to flutter and I could feel my breathing start to get shallow. My hands and feet felt heavy. I felt completely and utterly alone. In that teeming mass of humanity, I was so very alone. All at once it hit me that this was about my willpower and my ability, and no one I knew was going to be able to help me get through this, but right on the heels of that thought came the shattering realization that it was false!
Of course, I had help. I had all the encouragement and support of my friends and family with me. I had their smiles in my head and their warm wishes in my heart. It buoyed up my confidence to the point that I started talking to the people around me, making friends, hearing stories. I didn't feel so alone after that. Yes, we were all out there doing it on our own, but we had each other, and we had our support systems to speed our legs on.
I can't remember if there was a gun or a bell or what, but all of a sudden the group surged forward. I could see over the heads of the people in front of me as the faster marathon runners took off at a pace I could never manage. We slowly made our way to the actual start line, the place where our chips would record when our feet met the rubber and we were officially on our journey. As my foot hit that innocuous brown mat, my legs began their familiar running motion and I was off.
The weight of the world dropped off my shoulders in that moment. My knee felt fine. My back, like nothing had ever been wrong. I found my usual pace, and settled in for a solid run. Oh sure, people were streaming past me on both sides, but I was passing my fair share, as well, and it's not like it mattered then anyway. It was a long race, after all.
I would say the first six miles were the easiest. I found a good pace and the land was relatively flat, so I was able to lose myself in the flurry of footfalls and the music from my iPod. At about mile 6 we started on some major hills that sapped a lot of my strength. I started to get worried, but I told myself that I was already close to the half-way mark, that I could heal up later, and that age-old stand-by: pain goes away but regret lasts forever.
They had these signs marking every mile in the course, and the first eight virtually flew by. After that, I could have sworn that they were spacing them farther apart. By mile 9, I was really feeling it in my thighs, which is where pretty much all my power and stamina comes from. I'll admit it -- after mile 10 I felt like I was ready to give it up, but I was close! I was so close, and I could feel it! I could taste it, even!
As I rounded the curve that took us into the 13th full mile, the pacer with the 2:10 card got right along side me. I looked at her and she looked at me, almost to say, "C'mon! You can beat me!"
Right then, I was able to pull something from whatever store I still had left and kick it down ever so slightly. I pulled ahead of the pacer and started catching some of the people ahead of me. These were folks who had passed me earlier in the race, folks who were now faltering and slowing down -- but by some miracle, I still had something left in the tank.
I caught up with this girl in pink, and for the last half mile, she and I traded places. We were neck and neck as we rounded the last corner. Right then, time did one of those strange, stretching maneuvers. Those last seconds went on forever, my legs throbbing, my lungs aching, my eyes stinging with tears of pure exertion. There was a huge crowd there to cheer us on, but I didn't even see them. All I could see was that brown mat. The match to the one that started this foolish, wonderful endeavor. When my foot slapped down on it, just a mere instant before the girl in pink, I was hit with an elation I don't think I've ever known. In that moment, I felt hard core!
Then I came to a shambling, stumbling halt, blacked out for a couple seconds, took my medal, and walked around in a trance for a good 20 minutes. Luckily, my aunt and uncle were there to tell me what I should do next; otherwise I'd have most likely just stood there, mouth agape, like some sort of delirious idiot.
With a chip time of 2:08:53, I came in 475th out of close to 900. I averaged just under a 10-minute mile, and never once fully slowed to a walk. The only time I slowed at all was to gulp back some water. I ended the race with sore muscles, but took no other injury, and I will fully admit that I am now hooked. I plan to run this same race as an actual marathon next year.
Thank you Ben and Stef, for being there to support me before the race, and thank you Patty and Curt, for being there at the end. Thank you to all the rest of you out there, as well. You didn't know it, but you were there with me that whole time, cheering me on to the end. What an awesome rush!
UPDATE -- snow comes to Anchorage, home of a frostbit cat
Last night, the snow came all the way down the mountains and we even got some in our yard. It's late this year, but we weren't in a hurry. When the skies cleared, revealing that incomparable October blue, Miss Jerrianne headed out with her camera to get pictures for a virtual tour of our neighborhood.
On the way home, she stopped in to visit a cat she has been feeding while his human is away. He's a beautiful black tabby and white cat with a glittery coat like a Bengal. He looks a bit like a tiger with his squared off ears. He lost the tips of his ears and a couple of rings off his tail to frostbite in a previous winter. Miss Jerrianne isn't taking any chances on a repeat of that so he has to stay indoors while she is looking after him.
Click here to see what's new on Ginny McCorkell's Bitzidoodles blog.
Click here for the latest news on LTD's Storybrooke Ripples blog.
Day to DayR
Photo © Caity Chap
Our "cowboys" doing the fall cow round-up, tagging & vaccinating calves etc. The weather was marvelous & other than one cow going after Wyatt (she will be shipped), things went smoothly & they were done in very little time.
"Earth From Above" is the result of the aerial photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand's five-year airborne odyssey across six continents. It's a spectacular presentation of large scale photographs of astonishing natural landscapes. Every stunning aerial photograph tells a story about our changing planet. The photos are magnificient! Take a few minutes to make your own journey around the world; you can do it in less than 80 days!
The Matriarch Speaks W
The Matriarch is pleased to publish a very interesting Update from one of her very first contributors to the early issues of The Bulletin -- Eric Anderson's tale of the half-marathon he ran.
Let's play a guessing game: we will run a picture of someone of the subscribers or staff members of our e-magazine. Tell us who you think it is -- we will let you know who was the first to guess it right -- and the correct guess -- in the following week's Bulletin.
Last week's Guess picture
Editors' Note: Correct guesses appear in bold face type and incorrect guesses in normal type ... generally in the order we receive them, so the first guess received is on top.
That is Jim and Blanche [Miller] and I recognize George Larson and his two girls -- Kristi and Kelly. Is that his mother also in the picture? I don't recognize the other two children. GREAT PICTURE of your sister and her husband!
That is a really neat picture.
There are Uncle Jim, Aunt Blanche, Grandma Amy, George Larson, Kurt and I think possibly Kristi and Penny. I guess I will let you tell me who the others are. I suppose that Sharon may have taken the picture.
Editor's comment: I can't help you with the other children as I do not recognize them either! --DMA
On the guess picture ... I really would be guessing on most of the people but I am going to say names for the ones I really do know. That is Jim and Blanche Miller with Amy Dake and likely it is some of Amy's grandchildren or great-grandchildren. I am guessing one to be Lori Chap Ostendorf.
Mavis Anderson Morgan
Oh yes, the picture has George (Larson) and their three plus Blanche and myself. I don’t know who that little boy down front is.
I'll venture some guesses for this week's Guess picture. Front row: Shane Swenson, Kristi and Kelly Larson, Kjirsten Swenson; back row: Kurtis Larson, Jim and Blanche Miller, Amy Dake, George Larson. But as to where or why, I have no idea.
Colette Anderson Huseby
We were visiting Grandma Twila Johnson in Ashby and we all went to Sharon and George Larson's house near Evansville. Shane and Kjirsten Swenson are in the picture.
Mitzi Johnson Swenson,
The GUESS picture will please Jim Miller, who was so glad to be getting The Bulletin in last week's letter. There is Jim and Blanche and Mother Amy Dake and George Larson. I wonder if Jim is holding on to little Shari? I don't know the other four children, or do I? It must be Sunday from the book bag the little girl is holding.
Betty Weiland Droel
This week's Guess picture
A series of recollections, of the five years when Bill and Lois Dake and their family lived in Minnesota, began with the episode in Bulletin 343. It's too soon to tell just how many parts there will be in this series, just after World War II. In Bulletin 349, I told more about polio (once called Infantile Paralysis) via two links, Polio and Sister Kenny, to minimize disruption of the narrative flow. Both documents are posted as a series of scanned images. We can't edit them or correct typos and they will not respond to font changes or printer settings as regular Bulletin pages do.
Starting Married Life in North Dakota
We are the newest newlyweds in the Harry and Cleo Anderson family. Don's sister Elaine is married to Earl Wold and they live a couple of miles north of the Anderson home place. And Elwood and Lorene eloped earlier in this year; they live just east of the George and Julia Wold place where Don and I moved right after we came to North Dakota from our wedding trip. Lorene and Elwood live in a farm house on some land Harry bought that is just north of the home place.
So, as you can imagine, we do lots of eating at home with the folks, having each other over for some games and an evening lunch to help break the monotony, and dropping in just for a short visit with maybe a jar of chokecherry jelly or some fresh cookies. I haven't had time yet to really entertain for a meal, though I am thinking I had better try that one of these days. But first there is preparation for the teaching year.
You see, the house we are living in is back in the middle of the quarter of land that Julia and George are share renting to Don and me -- and it would be really a long winter drive for me to live here and drive to the Mooreton District, where I am now preparing and will soon be teaching. I plan to drive all this fall but we are looking for a trailer house to park at the back of the school for the winter months. Don heard of one that someone thought we could rent. We went over and the fellow agreed to rent it to us for the four winter months for one hundred dollars -- half to be paid up front and the other half when we bring it back. It is just one small bedroom with a kitchen and living room-dining room ... but it is cute as a button. I think it will be fine.
Talking about married Andersons ... well, it seems that the other half of our combined family -- the last of the William and Amy Dake kids -- will be married before very long. You see, I knew that Gert was seeing, and was very interested in, Loren Sigman. I hear they have set a date for their wedding. I think someone said it was to be at the end of December.
So right now, Don and I are invited down to attend the quilting party that Blanche and Lois have planned. It is to be at the folks's house. We are all going to meet there and the women will finish up the quilt that those two have put together. I think it is a "log cabin" quilt. (I am up here and they are there, so I am still in the same position I have been in the last two winters ... I pretty much miss out on all the planning.) This I do know: it is a pretty quilt ... as that is what the girls make!
I got such a nice letter from Lois. She writes these huge, long letters -- with beautiful, flowing handwriting. This one has 12 pages. She had slipped in a nice snap of their little family sitting out on the yard at the folks's house. That made me homesick.
She was telling me all about their new house. It sounds very nice. Her mom and dad have been there visiting and they have lots of cleaning and decorating done, but then she told me something that rather startles me and it sounds like more change. She said her dad has been talking to Bill and her mom has been talking to her, and so she is not opening all of her moving boxes quite yet.
You see, Bill has been very disappointed that Ernie Metcalf (his boss) seems to be grooming his son-in-law for the job that he had hinted to Bill might be his in the years ahead. Bill is not too interested in staying a "parts man" all his life. It seems there is an opening in Abilene -- in the Cadillac dealership. And then she asked if I would just keep this news to myself. They haven't shared it with the folks or the grandparents, as they know what a disappointment it will be to them if they decide to move to Texas.
It seems plans have a way of changing around and taking your life into some unexpected involvements and in odd directions! And it looks like there might be another change on the horizon, and maybe more -- who knows?
Celebrations & Observances
This Week's Special Days
This Week's Birthdays
This Week's Anniversaries
More November Birthdays
November Special Days
Miss Hetty's Mailbox:
Dear Miss Hetty,
Thank you for the greetings. Verlaine and I were surprised by maybe 25 friends last Sunday afternoon for a "Joint Birthday" get together. I have found out that the more birthdays I have, the older I get.
Thanks again and keep up the great work on The Bulletin.
Keep Us Posted!
Please drop Miss Hetty a line and tell us who, and what, we've missed. And how about a report (photos welcome) of YOUR special celebration?
+ LETTERS TO THE EDITORS?
I really enjoyed The Bulletin! The pictures of the maple and the oaks were very true in color, I sure miss all the fall colors down here. We have a number of trees that are in full bloom; the full tree is covered with their colored blossoms, which last about two weeks. We have only had one light frost in the last five years, so don't get the coloring from that cause, rather from blossoms!
Last Week's Bulletin Review JKL
I have just enough time right now to write my thanks to our very busy perfectionists who have produced Bulletin #436 this week. I am writing thanks in the form of a Letter to the Editor, but it really is our thanks again to Editor Dorothy, Photo Editor Jerrianne, and thanks to those who have contributed something towards its pages.
I have this feeling that it is a busy season right now, and not too many have taken time to send in. We must appreciate Bitzi for the leaves that are so beautiful, and for Mike and Sarah who have shared so much from their home and family so we can keep abreast of Levi and Kira as they grow and change so quickly at this stage of life.
Also, Donna Mae and Mavis and LTD. What would we have done without them?
Even Don wrote this time about his circus wagon. Roy said it was "a real Dude car" -- glad you had no trouble selling it when you decided to, Don.
I always devour Memory Lane in its true and real life episodes in the life of our Editor. Now, it's at the first part of Dorothy and Don's married life, which was 60 years ago now, but seems like yesterday with all the details we are enjoying in Memory Lane.
It was so uncanny how the first night of their honeymoon they stayed in Alexandria, and the comment of "maybe we will see that town again someday." I guess that did happen for real.
Dorothy, that was so interesting about Aw-Gwah-Ching. Harold Naef, recovering there from TB, became my uncle when he married LaFern Rowland, my mother's youngest sister.
Oh, how exciting to go as a couple to your familiar places in Bemidji. Disappointing to find the changes, but that is inevitable, of course. Oh, too bad to not find Photo North and the fellow workers you had known.
I loved the account of you going to Marge and Spence's home. I remember their grief over the loss of all the children's pictures and treasured keepsakes in that fire. Now Marge and Spencer and Carol are all gone, but maybe Jim can somehow get to read this part of your story.
I had to laugh at your comment on this new husband who could cook, and how that just might be an asset someday. Well, you surely found out it is a very valuable asset, didn't you? You two make an excellent team. You need each other, that is for sure.
I was glad you found the cute photos of that trip, which added reality to your story of the honeymoon.
Yes, the Quotation for the day was so right. It does look like the color of flame as the leaves lay piled up here and there.
Thank you again for all you put into every issue for us to enjoy like we do.
To search a name in Who's Who or Who's Where: click on the link to open the page, then use CONTROL F on a PC or COMMAND F on a Mac. To search for a second occurrence of the name, use CONTROL G on a PC or COMMAND G on a Mac. (This works on ANY web page with text, unless the text is converted to an image. Chances are, it works in your e-mail, too.) HINT: Search by first name only, as most entries list the family name once but do not repeat the last name for each family member. In Who's Where you can search on state or city names, too.
Quotation for the day:
Harvest home, harvest home!
EDITOR'S POLICY: If you wish to subscribe to The Bulletin, simply send me a statement of that fact. If you wish to keep receiving it I hope you will contribute to one of the columns that are running in this family epistle (at least occasionally!). My e-mail address is firstname.lastname@example.org
This Bulletin is copyright Dorothy M. Anderson; the contents are also copyrighted by the authors and photographers and used with their permission, and the contents are not to be used for any commercial purposes without the explicit consent of the creators.