It’s Morning in Frankfort

The opportunity clock rang at 6:15 this morning for the second day in a row. Normally, I just sleep until nature wakes me. Yesterday and today were special. It was Lions Candy Day weekend. We Serve is the motto of the Lions club and I take that seriously. In spite of the fact that I was tired this morning, I dragged my sorry butt out of bed at 6:30 and dressed. I left without breakfast. Peggy thought I was crazy, because I am never awake for more than ten minutes before I’m shoveling food into my mouth.

I met my fellow Lions at Starbucks. We got our candy, collection buckets, and assignments from Lion Sue and took off. I went to Burger King and had breakfast. As I ate, I watched the intersection that I would be manning and realized that Saturday morning is a loser. The morning before, I was a target from three directions. The number of cars, trucks and UFO’s coming at me was voluminous. This morning things were kind of sleepy, like me. I called Lion Sue and asked for a new corner. She assigned me to route 45 at Nebraska. Okay, anything would be better than 45 and Colorado. I stood at the intersection for an hour and collected about ten bucks. As I stood there I had the chance to see things that struck  a chord. It was Frankfort waking up. I saw people jogging and walking dogs along quiet village  streets and trails. The roar of trucks and heavy traffic was not there. In fact, the singing tires of a car speeding along on U.S. 45 was predominant. A garbage truck turned onto Nebraska and pulled into the Creamery parking lot to empty the dumpster. I hummed a tune to keep my mind active, and remembered President Reagan‘s essay It’s Morning In America. Normal people were going about their business oblivious to the effect of big government taking over their lives. They went about the affairs of life that they had control over.

Lion Sue bailed me out and sent me to the Jewel. I couldn’t believe the action there either, Jewel was slow. If Peggy and I were shopping on a Saturday, Jewel would be having grocery basket accidents in the aisles. Even so, collections were a tad better than at the last corner. I collected about twenty bucks  in a half hour.

My next assignment was at White and Nebraska. There was no one at the corner from the Lions. I took up the post and within ten minutes had collected more than I had in the previous two hours. There was a charity run in town, and the traffic it generated was crazy. It was non-stop cars for the next two hours. It was a  Candy Day Salesman’s dream. The money collected is a necessary commodity to keep our Camps open for kids with blindness. Selling candy is secondary to the notion that the end result serves a higher purpose.

People saw me standing there and approached cautiously with the window rolling down. A dollar bill emerged and dropped into my bucket. I handed the driver a roll of candy and got a smile and a thank you in return. I have to admit, people were giving generously and cheerfully.

I returned home at 12:30, ate a sandwich, and collapsed into a deep sleep on the couch. I dreamed about the next challenge coming in two weeks, the Strides Walk.

My Art

Look at these pictures and you see into  my soul. Each one is on display in my house. Now, you don’t have to visit the grumpy old man. There is a piece of history, and a story behind each one of them. If you dare to visit, you will hear about how they were acquired, and where. Sometimes, I will even talk about the artist. The majority are prints, with a few originals sprinkled in.

Stepping Back in Time

It was just two days, but we were in a mini-time warp. Grandma Peggy and I took a driving trip to Shipshewana, Indiana. We wanted to shop at their famous flea market. It has been at least thirty years since I’ve been there and ten years since she has been there. I am sorry to say that the quaint flea market loaded with old junk and crafts has given way to Taiwanese junk, and very few crafts. I was totally disappointed by the market.

We did enjoy the ambiance of the town. The Amish still tool around in their black buggies pulled by high-stepping horses. They were a joy to watch. I also enjoyed touring Yoder’s Department store. Thirty years ago they were a small wood building packed floor to ceiling with stuff to make an Amish life easier. They still have all the stuff one needs to live without electricity and  gas-power, but now the store is the size of a Wal-Mart.

We enjoyed a great dinner at a restaurant called the Blue Gate. The next night we dined at a place called the Pioneer Steak House, and experienced a total disaster of overcooked steaks. Peggy actually left a T-bone on the plate. Normally, she will polish one off with the enthusiasm of a hungry coal miner.

The second day it rained, so I decided to leave early and to take the back roads home. It took a little longer than it would on the interstate, but the fall farm scenes were worth the time even in the rain.

I reflected a lot on the value of an Amish life style. It is a simple life based on a strong belief in God and filled with the labor of staying alive by farming and living off the land.  At my present age that appeals to me more than it did when I was much younger. Maybe it is because I am so much closer to meeting God than I was a few years ago.

In the short time we visited the town, we managed to buy a trunk load of stuff to remember the day. One of our favorites was a lighted bouquet of plum flowers. We have it on display in a simple blue vase under our tie-dye lotus leave. When we  turn it on in the evening, it becomes a special art piece that makes us happy.

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Tie-Dye Lotus Leave Over a Lighted Plum Flower Bouquet




The Real Rolling Stone

I can’t really say much more than what I have conveyed in this cartoon. When this man speaks, the rhetoric in the balloon is all I hear.