I count my blessings

REFLECTIONS AT THANKSGIVING TIME

"I am thankful for small mercies. I compared notes with one of my friends who expects everything of the universe and is disappointed when anything is less than the best, and I found that I begin at the other extreme, expecting nothing, and am always full of thanks for moderate goods." --- Ralph Waldo Emerson.

The year since last Thanksgiving that has zipped by so quickly has brought new experiences, new adventures, new friends, a new place to call home, and a few minor bumps in the road. Hopefully that is true for you. But it has likewise been one of the best years of my life. Hopefully that is also true for you. For what they're worth, these are some of the things that make me smile and for which I am grateful at Thanksgiving time and throughout the year:

Olivia, Dylan and Audrey, the treasures of my life, the grandkids who make every day worth getting up for . . . distant train whistles . . . the words "winter storm watch" on the weather forecast . . . peanut butter-and-currant jelly sandwiches . . . the music of "Fiddler on the Roof" and the memories it revives . . . downtown Rochester with its shops, restaurants and skyscraper hospitals . . . the doughnuts with maple frosting at Wall Drug, worth a momentary detour off I-90 . . . Garrison Keillor and "Prairie Home Companion," on the radio or live at the Fitzgerald . . . a green light on Cherry Street when USD kids aren't trying to cross the highway . . . our white German shepherd, Oliver, one of God's dearest creatures . . . restaurants like Buffalo Wild Wings where five different games are playing on the TV screens . . . the bells, whip cracks and horse whinnies of "Sleigh Ride" . . . book stores . . . summer band concerts in the park . . . Duke basketball . . . the first cup of coffee in the morning . . . the next cup of coffee---after Oliver's first walk of the day . . . watching the semis whiz by on I-29 with Dylan from the Junction City rest area . . . Coyotes football in the DakotaDome . . . deviled eggs . . . the Cubs . . . winning a 50-50 prize at a baseball game---one of life's rarest occurrences . . . Wrigley Field . . . the scent of rain in the air . . . wind chimes . . . the Vikings---when they're playing well . . . thick Sunday newspapers . . . family Christmas letters (take a hint!---but e-mails will do) . . . the hot cinnamon mini-doughnuts they sell at the hockey arena in Sioux City . . . the sun streaming through stained-glass windows of a church.

Warm memories of my two years in Custer, especially the people I didn't know at all three years ago at this time but who now I can't imagine being part of my life . . . Wildcat football's picturesque setting . . . The Purple Pie Place and its rhubarb pie . . . the outdoors view from the pews at LYF . . . the folks who said "Yes!" whenever I begged them to be part of "Question of the Week" for the Chronicle . . . supper before the All-State Chorus concert with the Custer singers and their parents . . . the view down the hill coming into town from the north with the "Custer" sign aglow above downtown . . . folks from the Pierre years coming into the Chronicle office to say hello . . . the holiday lights parade . . . the painted life-sized Custer Stampede buffalo all around town . . . the boys cheering en masse for the girls basketball team . . . the homemade soup at the senior center on soup-and-pie day . . . the cordial ladies at Carson Drug . . . Blossom, my canine friend, who ran to meet me every Wednesday at the bookstore . . . the veranda at Crazy Horse with big flakes of snow fluttering down . . . the grade school kids who pointed at me and my camera bag and said something like "You're the camera guy!" . . . the athletes who are college freshmen now but who were lowly sophomores when I arrived . . . the Black Hills Playhouse . . . the sun still illuminating the top of Harney Peak even though it's already dark down below . . . the school's Veterans Day program . . . a cross-country race at the golf course . . . the chatter between June and Pam eminating from the back room while they stuffed inserts on Tuesdays . . . Barb calling me by name as she takes my order at Subway . . . finding unique must-have treasures for my grandkids at Surroundings . . . cheery greetings from the folks in the school offices and the administration building . . . the Destination ImagiNation teams . . . the new high school . . . the Chronicle gang . . . Larry Legend and the basketball memories hanging on his office wall . . . the view of the Harney range from the road south of town . . . the folks at the post office . . . the courtroom at the old courthouse museum---a scene straight out of a 1950s Western . . . conversations with Dorothea Edgington, a Custer institution . . . all of the people at the schools---the best anywhere . . . cheers back and forth across the basketball court between the students and the parents . . . a Black Hills Conference track meet . . . conversations about Pierre events and people with the other former Pierre-ites who dominate the Custer landscape . . . the ladies at Lynn's checkout lanes . . . singing with the Community Church choir at Christmas and Easter . . . the constant search for a cellular phone signal hot spot . . . the courthouse people . . . the views while driving to Hot Springs and Newcastle . . . Marguerite, Mary and Janice at the library . . . 50-cent popcorn at the armory . . . the enthusiasm of the folks at the chamber (don't they EVER have a bad day?) . . . Cozy, my first friend from Custer . . . getting coffee from Larry down on the corner . . . sports talk with Bill Young . . . beating Paul and Jason in our football picks . . . Gold Discovery Days.

Hot apple cider . . . the old Carol Burnett variety shows . . . board games with the kids at holiday time . . . a checkbook error in my favor . . . campfires on a beach . . . the first glimpse of the campanile at SDSU . . . fudge . . . the endless sunset seen from the central South Dakota prairie . . . Handel's "Messiah" . . . Charlie Coyote . . . a new John Sparks book . . . sports talk radio . . . remembering Robert Disburg every time I spy a coin on the ground . . . scurrying outside with Dylan each time we hear the LifeFlight helicopter coming toward the Vermillion hospital . . . college students home for the holidays . . . a phone call from one of the kids to report they got there safely . . . Joe Mauer's sideburns . . . a high school choir in formal dress, eyes riveted on their director . . . sweet potatoes smothered in marshmallows . . . the Walker family on "Brothers & Sisters" . . . church pipe organs . . . the wave of a finger from a passing driver . . . my daily 10-minute imaginary trip to somewhere by means of Google Earth . . . hot dogs from the grill . . . semifinal night at a state basketball tournament . . . the exhilaration trumpet introduction to Charles Osgood's "Sunday Morning" show . . . a surprise e-mail from someone with whom I've been out of touch for awhile . . . a summer night at the ballpark . . . holiday decorations on the lightpoles . . . the newest Michael Buble CD . . . "SportsCenter" . . . the UPS driver pulling to a stop in our driveway . . . weddings of kids I watched grow up . . . the College World Series.

Golden memories of all those years in Pierre---the Kiwanis Singers ("Smile . . . and the world smiles with you . . . sing a song!") . . . the indoor marching band concerts . . . the Governor football team coming down the hill toward Hollister Field . . . the peninsula into Capitol Lake . . . the steeple of Ss. Peter & Paul . . . state Legion baseball at Hyde Stadium . . . a Farm Island stroll in the fall . . . the Capital City Children's Chorus . . . the railroad underpass on Pierre Street . . . Zesto in the spring, Zesto in the fall, Zesto at any time at all . . . the flags flying in the breeze in Hilger's Gulch . . . the Over Forte Orchestra . . . the view from the Verendrye Monument . . . carols broadcast from the tower at Faith Lutheran . . . the lighted cross atop First Methodist . . . the Green Wave at a state tournament . . . Riggs band trips . . . the lights of the city from 15 miles out . . . outdoor graduations . . . the Flaming Fountain . . . participating in music at our church and others . . . Pierre Players shows . . . the Cultural Heritage Center . . . Christmastime in the Rotunda . . . the bike path along the riverfront . . . community choir concerts . . . Capitals hockey . . . Steamboat Park on the night of the Fourth . . . South Madison Street Blues and Surprise Package . . . the jazz festival . . . Fort Pierre rodeos . . . the view of the river from the windows at Cattleman's . . . still hearing the voices of radio legends Del Fisher and Fred Smith, and for that matter, Dean Sorenson and "Mrs. Pierre" Ida McNeil . . . the sledding hill along Church Street . . . cruising on the Capital City Queen . . . the Fighting Stallions . . . the memory of the start of the press run each afternoon at 2 during the old Capital Journal days . . . the sunset from a deck overlooking the river . . . a train rumbling across the 100-year-old bridge.

Still-warm pumpkin pie with Cool Whip . . . the grand march at a high school prom . . . the twin spires of St. Anthony's rising out of the prairie at Hoven . . . the courageous young people who volunteer to serve overseas in dangerous places . . . the music of "Les Miserables" . . . a wave of a finger from a passing driver . . . sharing a TCBY ice cream cone with Oliver . . . dancing to big-band music . . . a hot Tom & Jerry on a frosty holiday morning . . . a baseball player stealing home . . . icicle lights hanging from the eaves . . . the hometown paper arriving in the mail . . . Coffee Hi at the Vermillion UCC church . . . the magic of Santa in "The Polar Express" . . . caramel rolls fresh from the oven . . . the Rockies (the baseball team as well as the mountains) . . . Marley (the dog, not the bah-humbug guy in "A Christmas Carol") . . . a steaming bowl of chili topped with shredded cheese . . . the spectacle of the state track meet . . . discovering the flowers have bloomed . . . the Twins game on the radio . . . razzleberry pie from the frozen foods case . . . the lights of Rapid City from the top of the Wasta hill after a long cross-state drive . . . the performers at the Miss South Dakota pageant . . . Tom Brady, Randy Moss and the Patriots . . . the Acoustic Christmas troupe . . . the downtown trolley in Sioux Falls . . . seeing what excellent mothers my daughters are and what loving uncles their brothers are . . . a choir's carols reverberating through the Capitol . . . a college campus in the fall . . . the lyrics of "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and the memories of long-past Christmases in Onida they invoke . . . running into somebody you know at an interstate rest area (only in South Dakota!) . . . Hamburger Helper . . . downtown Chicago---the Michigan Avenue stores, the old water tower, the bridges opening to let boats down the river, Navy Pier, the Field Museum, the skyline . . . filling in one's brackets for the NCAA basketball tournament . . . Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up."

The downstream view of the Missouri from atop Oahe Dam . . . the spirit and camaraderie of smalltown folks, all dressed in the same colors, who follow their team hundreds of miles from home . . . people-watching at an airport or Mount Rushmore or a shopping mall . . . stepping along with the USD band as they march down the street toward a game in the Dome . . . the smell of bread baking in the oven . . . the soaring voices of the men of Il Divo . . . brownies . . . graduation receptions . . . drivers who yield . . . the choir processing down the aisle during the opening hymn . . . homecoming parades . . . seeing my kids and their cousins enjoying each other's company when they all get together . . . a fly-over by one of Ellsworth's bombers . . . "Remember the Titans" . . . the rush of seeing a car with a license plate from home . . . meatloaf simmering in the crockpot all day . . . unpacking the last cardboard box after moving---across town or across the state . . . Friday noon programs at the Shrine to Music Museum . . . a pan of frosted cookies from Granny Franny . . . the view up Main Street toward the courthouse on the hill in my hometown . . . old yearbooks . . . "Good Will Hunting" . . . ambrosia salad . . . "Mike & Mike in the Morning" on ESPN Radio . . . a football Saturday at Nebraska . . . music memories from three years at First Methodist in Rapid City . . . hearing one's governor or congressman or legislator call you by name (only in South Dakota!) . . . Storybook Island at Christmas time . . . loose change in the bottom of the washer or beneath the driver's seat . . . a first-ever school photo from my granddaughter . . . neighbors like the Wards across the street and the Russells next door . . . the view of the Nebraska river bluffs three miles away . . . pumpkin bread from the Hy-Vee store . . . high school and college reunions . . . "Touch 'em all, Justin Morneau!" . . . a nighttime story down on E-pa's couch before Dylan heads upstairs to bed . . . the down-home folks at the country church I visit once a month. And that's just a start . . . but most of all, my kids and my grandkids, my extended families, good times, great memories, good health, dear friends, and a life in which every day is a good time.

As you count your own blessings, one by one, this week, here's a toast to a blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Halfway through November

The wind has finally died down. Correction: It has quit all together. So it is a mild mid-November day in southeastern South Dakota. So at 12:30 p.m., what am I doing? Sitting at my computer, watching the score of a state tournament volleyball match change before my very eyes. There were days when the only way to get the result of a state tournament volleyball match was to get a phone call from somebody who was there or wait until the TV sportscast in the evening. Now with the modern technologies that are available, one clicks on S.D. Public Broadcasting (you guys do great work!), and the score changes, the statistics are available, and one knows in Vermillion instantly what is going on in Sioux Falls.

Of course the Lady Govs are playing. The #1-ranked, unbeaten Lady Govs, who until the last couple of years never ever had a winning volleyball team. I can only imagine what the Arena is like in Sioux Falls at this moment. As usual, the folks from Pierre---you strangers don't know that I was there for many, many years---are on hand in record numbers, standing at their seats in a wave of green, supporting the girls. That's the way Pierre does things for its teams---basketball, football, hockey, soccer, track, volleyball, wrestling, etc. I was intending to drive up I-29 today to see this opening match, but I needed to take Oliver to the vet clinic. Unfortunately the vet is gone today, so I can't get him in until Friday morning. He has been scratching himself silly for the past week. Now he has opened a couple of sores on his back where he has been scratching too vigorously. I'm going to try to keep him moving enough outside today so that he doesn't have time to lie down and scratch.

All right, baby! Good news! #8-seed Huron gave Pierre a good game, but the Lady Govs prevailed, 25-21, in the first of the best-of-five match. So all is well so far. Hopefully Pierre will reach the finals, and then I can watch the whole championship match live on television Saturday night.

Other things on my to-do list today---write to a couple of folks, both happen to be in the Twin Cities; pick up some items at the grocery store (right now I'm gorging myself on pumpkin bread from the Vermillion Hy-Vee store . . . it is to die for, especially when heated in the microwave with butter generously applied afterward), catch up on a couple TV series I watch religiously (isn't this neat these days how we can click on the network's website and watch the episodes we have missed?!), and get started on next week's Midweek Update.

The latter, for you who are strangers to me, is an e-mail newsletter keeping present and former Pierre folks informed as to what present and former Pierre folks are doing and where they are doing it. I write it here at home (this is the ninth year!), send it to a computer firm in Pierre, and they send it to everybody on the mailing list. Next week's Thanksgiving issue is traditionally a list of a ton of things for which I'm thankful. It's fun to write, therapeutically for sure. In addition to sending it out via Midweek Update means, I'll post it here next week, too, for readers around the world (yeah, right, as if to think people anywhere are going to be reading this blog!) to ponder.

Now to get on with the day. But first one question . . . who are you? Another question . . . where are you? . . . Yet another question, how did you end up here? Post your comments. I'd enjoy reading what you're thinking today.

And how did it get to be the middle of November already? A week from right now some of us in the family will be gathering to enjoy a meal together on Thanksgiving Day with a keen eye to the TV set. Can anybody remember a Thanksgiving Day when a Detroit Lions game was a meaningful one? Wow, this year it's Detroit vs. Green Bay, a battle for first place in their division.

Here we go again!

The blog is only three days old, and already I'm finding one does not take the time to write daily even if he has the time to do so.

Dylan lasted till halftime of Saturday's game. By far the highlight for him was a huge hug from Charlie Coyote, the USD mascot, outside the Dome before the game. After that the whole experience was downhill.

Folks who have read my ramblings over the years know how I detest moving---the thinking about it, the packing, the moving, the arrangements, the throwing-away, the whole deal. Guess what! Heather (daughter), Dylan (grandson) and I learned last week that we have to vacate this house in which we had anticipated remaining until she graduates from law school in May 2009. The owner wants to come back to Vermillion.

So we are looking at new options.

Our move last May from Rapid City involved several cross-state trips, several U-Haul rentals, some long nights and days and one unbearable but survivable week. This move won't be nearly so traumatic because it will be simply a matter of going from this house to another one somewhere in the same town. With any luck at all I will get rid of a bit more "stuff" that I haven't looked at in the six months in this house.

Those who haven't read my newspaper columns won't know that my worst-ever moving experience occurred on a long hill on I-90 heading up from Wasta, S.D., out of the Cheyenne River valley to the top of the windswept plains of Pennington County, 45 minutes east of Rapid City out in the middle of what some people would call nowhere. It was the first of April in 2004 just after I retired from the paper in Pierre and was moving west to Rapid City where three of my four kids were living at the time. Driving a pickup-load of furniture, I had just reached the top of the long westbound hill when I reached the wind. It whipped a mattress right out of the pickup and lay it down flat in the middle of I-90. Fortunately no vehicles were following me at the time.

I managed to drag it against the force of the northwest gale (much like we have blowing across South Dakota today, in fact!) to the side of the road. But have you ever tried to move a mattress by yourself? The darn things are unwieldy, to say the least. I had to take a couple big living room chairs out of the pickup (by myself) in order to get the mattress back in, then reload the chairs and tie the stuff up so it wouldn't blow out again. During the hour or so I was there, not a soul stopped to help even though it was a bright, sunny (though windy) day. But I retrieved everything and reached Rapid City with it all.

At that time I swore never to move again. But three years later---this past May---it happened again. Now in November-December it's happening again. No doubt the upcoming move will be fodder for future blogs, so bear with me.

Let's get started

Hello! I'm pretty much computer-illiterate, but one of my college-age friends initiated his blogsite recently. I clicked this and clicked that, and here I am---attempting to start my own. Why? I don't know, but with no newspaper column to write on a regular basis, I need some outlet for my rantings and ravings.

It's chilly and breezy, looking like fall (which it is!), in southeastern South Dakota this noon. My grandson and I are about to head to the USD football game---one of the great joys of living in a college town. We have to be out on Dakota Street in time to watch the marching band leave the fine arts department and march to the DakotaDome; today Dylan (age 3) and I intend to sit on the band's side of the field (he dearly loves "those silly tubas"), and we will be just above the Coyotes sideline. It's the last game of the season, so we intend to enjoy it to the fullest.

More to follow. Have a good day!