Life and Love in the 70’s

Everyone knows the feeling of getting back to your own bed after a vacation. I also like to get back to my own shower. It was a wonderful adventure Marilyn and I had and while it is nice to be home, I have to admit that I miss being with her even if we are just minutes apart.  When God made men and women, I think he meant for us to go through this life as a pair. I know some choose to go it alone but I for one prefer to be a part of a pair. I get my joy through the person with whom I am sharing an adventure. In other words, when Marilyn saw cave point for the first time, I was there and I felt her joy and excitement. When she said, “ I would do that” referring to the kids jumping off the rocks into the water below, I felt the exhilaration as her heart beat faster thinking about it.  I could never feel the same by myself.  Sharing this adventure,  the maiden voyage of the restored Roadtrek motorhome, was more than I could have imagined. Thank you, Marilyn for allowing me to share your joy.

We started our trip on Sunday morning, heading north to Sturgeon Bay Wisconsin.  I was a bit apprehensive taking this old motorhome so far from home. I remembered the last time I set out on an adventure in a restored van. That trip across country to California and up the coast into Canada, was a trip of a lifetime. It was also a mechanical nightmare the entire trip from the Rockies on the way out,  to the 150 mile tow home from the north west border of Illinois; but that is a whole different story. As it turned out this trip was free of all those mechanical concerns. The van was perfect in its performance. The ride was more comfortable than in my car. I calculated the mileage on the first tank of gas and it was more than 13 mpg. That is great when you are carrying or towing your mini home with you. And the van is fun to drive. Marilyn even took a turn on the way home.

We arrived at the Felds a little after lunchtime and they were the perfect hosts.  It was a little like being in a tree house with the views of surrounding treetops through the windows. Even the climb up Mt Feld  from the first floor after going down to the bathroom was like climbing up to a treehouse.  It took Marilyn about 2 minutes to become close friends with Nancy and Hans.  It is so rewarding sharing Marilyn’s friendship with others.  Everyone loves her and they are happy seeing the joy she brings to me.

After a nice visit, we headed over to  Potawatomi  state park where we would be watching for the tall ships to arrive on Monday afternoon. I paid my $38 for a yearly pass for all the Wisconsin parks, and we started our search for a good viewing location. As we left the ranger station, I noticed there were some non-electric camping sites available. It started me thinking that for this to be truly a maiden voyage, we should actually camp in the van at least a night.  There were some open sites near the water where the ships would be arriving. I put those thoughts into my mix of things to think about. After finding the best viewing sites, and getting acquainted with the park, we headed back to the Felds for the night.

Following our first night at the Felds, we headed to the park again. I wanted to see if there just might be an open camping site with electricity. I asked at the gate as we entered the park. ”There is one electric site open”, the ranger said. We took it. We went through the campground to see where we would be located. I figured that we needed to be back to a viewing spot by about two for the four PM arrival of the ships; so, We headed north to find Cave point, a county park on the water where the waves of Lake Michigan crash into the rocky bluffs shore line. There were young people standing in line to make the jump off the rocks into the clear water below.  Marilyn looked at me and said, “ I would do that.” I could feel the excitement she was feeling as the thoughts of jumping into the water bounced around in her brain. I think she was vicariously enjoying the experience watching the kids, one by one, get the chance to make the plunge. I thought about it and yes, I too would have joined the line of jumpers in my youth.  How fun it was to be here with Marilyn; and how different it was from previous times I have been there.  At that point, we both agreed that it was the best part of the trip so far. I checked my watch and decided we had better head for our viewing spot so we headed south back to Sturgeon Bay, to the park.

We found a shady spot to park the van and headed down to the shoreline with chairs and cameras. The snacks we had picked up at a convenience store filled our stomachs and the joy of the sharing this adventure filled our hearts.  One ship came in early. And finally, on schedule the other ships started making their way down into Sturgeon Bay  past our observation spots. I maned my camera and Marilyn, who is also a proficient photographer, took her spot and we captured the event . I was disappointed that all the ships were coming in under power without sails open.

Tall ships

I have seen this event played out in Chicago and  the sight of those ships with sails up is heart pounding . These naked masts were not what I was hoping for but the ships are still amazing.

The parade of ships ended and some of the people started packing up their gear but I was in no hurry. We just had a short ride to the campground. Marilyn said, “ perhaps the other ships are raising their sails and will be still coming.”  I said that I didn’t think so. I felt this was it. Disappointingly, I said, “ I think that was the end.”  Then someone said, “ Here comes another ship with the sails up.”  I got my camera ready again and sure enough there were more ships and they had sails up.  They were smaller ships but

none the less exciting to watch. It was a wonderful afternoon.

I stopped for firewood on the way to the camp site so we were set for a wonderful romantic night by the campfire.  We backed in and connected the electric line to the van. Now, we had air conditioning. Neither one of us sleeps well in the heat. Now, I could be certain we would not be hot. Then I thought about the fire. The wood was good and dry hardwood. It looked like oak to me. Oak makes a great fire but it is hard to get it started.  Now, keep in mind that while I have been prepping the van mechanically, I have given no thought about  providing the van with the tools needed to have things like a fire. I had no hatchet for splitting the split logs into kindling. I also had no fire starting material. We headed back to the camp store and what luck, They had one hatchet and the waxy sawdust fire starters. It wasn’t long before we had a roaring campfire. There we sat, side by side warmed by the popping fire in the cool 85 degree Wisconsin afternoon.  We held hands and shared an occasional kiss when we were not in hand to hand combat with the mosquito army mustering around our campsite. With my back pain, another walk to the camp store was out of the question so Marilyn fought her way through  the mosquito curtain off to the camp store again.  Upon her return, We doused  ourselves with the oily skin protection. It didn’t stop the diving bombers but after buzzing around and finding no good landing spot, they would just hover waiting for the force field to open, for their final attack. One group had a cargo net that they planned to use to wrap me up and carry me away to be eaten slowly by the entire community. Fortunately, when  they flew it through the fire, the spider webbing material flamed up like a July 4th display. They headed back for reinforcements and we headed into the camper. Perhaps we have to rethink our Wisconsin camping, where the mosquito is the state bird and the warm moist summer they have had is ideal for breeding the nasty vampires.

Inside provided its own challenges. A small unit like this is a little like playing musical chairs. On person needs to  move before the other can change places. The front seats swivel around and when the curtains are all drawn, it really is a comfortable little house.  The bed is a standard double bed. It is smaller than a queen.  If I were much taller, I could easily hit my head and feet at opposite ends but I am not and neither is Marilyn.  She started against the wall but her touch of claustrophobia made her uncomfortable so I got the wall side. Fortunately this was a one bathroom run, night. While climbing over someone might seem a bit stimulating, keep in mind why I have to get up. No time for a stop on this journey.  When I returned, empty, she had moved to the wall side so there was no more option for climbing over.  Anyone who thinks those campers are all a rockin’, have obviously not done much camping. They are seldom conducive to much more than a kiss. Besides the cramped conditions there is also the lingering bug spray.

Morning brought cooler temperatures and a beautiful sky filled with those wandering puffy white clouds.  We spent the day sightseeing with Nancy, before going out to dinner. We went to a local garden exhibit kept by area Master Gardeners.  We also went to see the restored one room southern door county schoolhouse. You can take the school teacher out of the classroom but you can’t take the classroom out of the school teacher. Marilyn was ready to start class as soon as we saw the fantastic restoration.  So these Illinoisans could show their gratitude for a wonderful visit, we took Hans and Nancy out to dinner.  Now it was time to return to the treehouse for the final night.

Wednesday morning  we headed to the cheese store for some fresh cheese curds. We arrived with the rest of the crowd at 8 AM   and found they were still out of curds. The truck was due in about 10 so we waited.  A truck arrived so we scampered into the store like two little kids heading in to the old Peases candy shop for penny candy. No, this was not the delivery of curds. After standing around for some time, we were told it would be another hour. We decided it was time to leave this beautiful place and return to the  comfortable routine of being at home.

This brings us to the end this adventure but now that we know the van is a comfortable fit for both of us, you can expect many more adventures in the future. You will be able to follow along as we navigate through love and life in the 70’s .

Christmas 2018

Christmas 2018

A time to live . . . . . And a time to die . . . . . . . . . . . And a time to live again!

It is with great joy and sadness that I share this Christmas letter.   On November 2, 2018 Pat loosened her grip on her life here and allowed the angels to take her home where so many of her family awaited her return. Those of us who must remain behind must pick up the pieces of memories she left behind and go on with our lives here. That is where I find myself at this time. I am joined in my sorrow by a supportive family and many friends. I am so thankful for that.  Because this Christmas letter will be going to those same friends, I say Thank You to all who have shared this portion of my journey. But as we always told our kids; you have to get up, brush yourself off and move on.  Cancer is a family disease because it affects everyone in the family but the reverse of that is also true; in that once Pat was free of her nemesis, so were we.

The year 2018 in review

2018 started with little fanfare;  Pat was in bed by nine and I watched some fireworks around the world on TV and ushered in the new year from a reclining position in my lounger.  Our life by this time was revolving around doctor visits, tests, scans, chemo and all things health related.  We tried to work life in amid these constant interruptions.  I was torn between trying to fulfill Pats desire to travel and her need to be doctored.  Travel windows became shorter and shorter.

I knew that Pat’s remaining time was short so I tried for one last trip to celebrate our March 23rd, 50th wedding anniversary. We planned a three week trip to Key West Florida for April. We drove the car because it would be more comfortable than the truck and camper and for the same reason stayed in Motels. I also wanted to be able to get back quickly if needed. It took us four days to make the trip and Pat did well riding. When we got to Key West, we moved into my nephew’s guest house. Kim and Krystal flew down and met up to make the final drive from southern Florida together. They joined us at Todd’s house for a week of sightseeing and enjoying the seafood. Pat was so happy to be able to share this time with all of us and we felt the same.  We left the nightlife primarily for the kids and they made the most of it. I think we all fell in love with Key West.  Given the opportunity, Krystal would have stayed; so would I. As the week together started to wind down, Krystal had to drive back up to Miami area for her flight back. Kim, Pat and I had another day before we started back. It was this last couple days that Pat started showing some distress. She did not have her normal appetite and was taking home more food than she ate.  We first passed it off as an allergy she was having some trouble breathing and was all stopped up with sinuses. We drove Kim back up to Fort Myers for her flight home and Pat and I stayed for a couple nights so we could go to see some sights at the wildlife sanctuary.  We drove around on familiar roads but the birds we expected to see had already migrated north.  Even with her walker, Pat was having difficulty doing much walking. On several occasions, she would have to stop and I would go on alone.

From there our plans took us to visit our friends the Dershimers in Orlando area. We planned to stay there two or three nights but it was becoming clearer that Pat was going downhill fast.  Plans would have taken us from there to Jacksonville, Fl to visit an old school friend, Karen Wonders Hart and then over to Virginia Beach to visit another old friend, Keven Burke. I knew I had to get Pat back home and into the doctor; so, we skipped those visits and headed home the next morning, cutting our visit with Dershimers to the one night. I planned to take three days to make the return trip but even that had to be shortened and the last two days of driving were combined into one long day so Pat could get to the doctor on Friday. By this time, Pat had gone from walker to wheelchair she was so weak.  I was glad we had made this trip but I knew it would be the last vacation for her and I was so glad the girls had joined us down there.

2018 was Pat’s 5th year, fighting the metastatic breast cancer spreading through her body. By this time, we were changing chemo drugs about every 3 months as each provided no significant effect on the growing cancer. She did fight off the sinus infection and felt better. By May, we were taking day trips and she was in less pain as she was now on Norco and a fentanyl patch.  She was back to using the walker and she had a renewed spirit. The middle of May, I ordered myself a new electric bicycle. Cycling was one of the few things I liked to do outside by myself. That purchase was probably my highlight of the year. It was amazing how much good two hours on my bike helped my morale, not to mention my general health.  I was able to leave Pat for these couple hours and she could get around the house and to the bathroom on her own.  In June, I was able to go to the doctor about my back and tell him I didn’t need the planned cortisone treatment to my back and surgery was no longer on the table; because the new exercise I was getting on my bike was easing the back pain.  I got the camper ready for a camping trip and we spent a few days out at Sanchris State Park relaxing in the sun overlooking the lake. It was good to get away in the camper but Pat was not up to much walking even with the walker.

In July, Pat had a cyst removed from her back. A biopsy showed it to be more breast cancer in her skin. Scans now were showing spots on her liver and in her lungs.  Her waking hours became shorter and the pain killers increased in quantity and type. Pain was constant while she was awake but she was able to sleep.  We were now reaching that point where everything became a blur. It was like those last few minutes of an emptying tub where the water spins out of control down the drain. September and October were like that, spinning out of control. She began losing blood and had to have transfusions on several occasions. She was admitted to the hospital after going to the ER for severe side pain. The pain was not diagnosed but she was found to have sepsis, an infection in her bloodstream. She was put on strong IV antibiotics and eventually released to go home with me administering  the IV infusions of antibiotics every 8 hours for 6 weeks.  Those finished October 4th and blood tests showed no recurrence but she was still anemic and required transfusions. Later in October, she was having trouble breathing and again, we were admitted to the hospital for an extended stay. This time it was fluid around her lungs that did not allow her to take a full breath. The liter of fluid removed contained blood and cancer cells.  It was becoming more and more evident that her lungs were fully involved.  The pain was increasing with little relief and radiation was suggested to ease the pain.  By this time we were on pain control only; because the cancer had gone too far to cure.   The first two treatments to her back seemed to ease the pain in her side so we suspected, it was a compression of the nerve from the cancer in her spine.  Then, while still getting radiation, Pain increased dramatically.

Her last night at home brought continued pain and when I could not give her enough medicine to ease the pain; she asked me to call an ambulance. She said she did not want to die at home. At this point, she was just too tired to fight any longer. She wanted it to all end. The following are taken from my FB posts following her passing.

Facebook November 2nd: Every story has a beginning and an end. Pat’s story is no different. There was only one possible end because the only cure for life is death. We come into this world encased in a physical body. We know from the beginning it isn’t perfect. It will eventually wear out. For those who loved her, and there are many, it is important to know how she died.
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After a painful night, she was put on a morphine drip. As long as she showed any discomfort, the dosage was increased until she was in comfort and showing no signs of distress. It was explained that this same drug that took away her pain also would eventually take away her breath of life. She had family members at her side the two days she was in the hospital. During that time, she could respond to sounds with breathing rhythm, gripping your hand or facial movement. When I told her I loved her, she tried to speak and I knew. I had read that sometimes the patient will wait to go when loved ones are NOT present to protect them from the viewing of the actual death. I left her last night and told her she could go while I was gone if that was her wish and kissed her good-by.
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When I arrived this morning, the nurses were giving her a bath. They were so caring and gentle. They had turned on some music channel on the TV with soothing music. The room felt as if it were filled with angels. I was at peace and obviously so was Pat. I looked at her thinking how beautiful she was as she glowed in the morning sun. As I sat there holding her hand she ever so gently slowed her breathing and then stopped. I watched for her to start again but she didn’t. She was at last free from an all too restrictive body filled with cancer. The cancer took her body but that released her soul.
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I am sure someplace in Heaven, she is lining up angels alphabetically and by height. I’m sure she will get the Akashic records all organized and Heaven will be spotless.
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I removed the wedding ring that she never took off and will wear it on a chain close to my heart. A love bond this strong can’t be broken by a death because the love is the energy of spirit. It is eternal. I loved her in other lives and I will continue to love her till we can be together again. Peace my love. I love you so.

Facebook November 3rd:This will be short because I need my beauty sleep. I first want to say thank you to all who have shared this part of my life. I do read all the comments even if I don’t comment or “like” . I have often asked myself why I continue to share my thoughts even when there are no comments. The response here validates my reasoning. Sharing my feelings helps others process their own feelings. I have always been a teacher and the best way to teach is by example. I am not saying everything I do is right because if that were the case, I would be finished here and on my way to be with Pat. I obviously have more to share. If I share my lessons, perhaps you can learn from my mistakes so you don’t have to learn from your own. I love the spirit within every one of you even if I don’t agree with your politics. If even one person realizes we are all one. One with each other and one with our creator, I will feel I have accomplished something. We are all held together with the energy of love, the energy of God. I have learned a great many lessons through many incarnations. This last week, I learned the beauty of death. I have never experienced the feeling of love that I felt in that room before Pat was carried home on the wings of angels. I was truly blessed by the presence of Gods messengers. There are many accounts of near death experiences. I feel like I experienced that same feeling through Pat as she was immersed in pure Love. Because of our closeness, like that of a twin, I was feeling what she was feeling. Death is nothing to fear. While I will not go looking for it, I certainly will embrace it when I have finished here and my turn to go home comes. Live life to the fullest, my friends, it is all a gift of lessons to make us more like our creator and less like the animals we inhabit while here. Love and Light. Now, I have truly experienced the Light and felt the Love.

November 7th we had a celebration of life for Pat at our church, St Johns Lutheran.  On several occasions during the visitation, we were prodded by the Pastor to quicken the pace because the line extended outside. I don’t have any idea how many were there. If you asked Trump, it was in the millions. I can’t be sure; I didn’t count.  At the church service, several gave accounts of Pat’s life. Mine follows.

November 7th: Let me start with a disclaimer. This is the small print usually at the end of an important document.  As most of you know I wear my emotions on my sleeve.  .  .  .  .  . Well, let me change that. I post my emotions on FaceBook.  So, if I become a blubbering idiot someplace along the presentation, please bear with me. I’ll try to recover and proceed.

So, Who was Patti Jo Saladino Sriner? She was a very old soul who has accompanied me on many adventures in this life and others. If you ask most people who knew her, “what do you remember about Pat” and they would most often say, “ I remember her smile” . It would literally light up a room. We tried to show that smile in the picture for her obituary and the poster out front.  She was beautiful the first time I saw her in High School and she was beautiful the day she passed on to be with her Father in Heaven.  But her beauty didn’t reside just on the surface; it went all the way down to her core. And that beauty  would shine like a beacon in the dark. I know there is someone out there right now poking their partner and whispering, “ It Probably was from all the radiation she has had.

Pat took after her Dad when it came to work ethic.  She was always early to work and put in her full eight hours.  Like her father, I think she judged her self-worth,  by  her job performance. She told the story of her first summer job working for the city. She was confronted early on by her coworkers telling her to slow down because she made them look bad. But, she never slowed down.  She was also a compulsive helper.  This sometimes got her in trouble because some felt her “helping” was obtrusive.  She would go to the point of helping you finishing your sentences.  I can assure you that while her help was not always the most tactful; her motive was as pure as her smile. When chastised, she would always reply, “ I was just trying to help”  and that was the truth.

When she was not working, she wanted to travel. She considered herself a wandering gypsy.  We never had much money but we always took vacations. She has seen all but the far North-east of the contiguous United States.  I hope to take her there, with me, in spirit.  Even with her invasive cancer, she wanted to travel ; sometimes, just out to the wildlife sanctuary. This last spring, we made it down to Key West to celebrate our 50th anniversary. She loved the trip because we were joined by both our daughters; but her health started to really deteriorate as we started to take a long way back and we had to cut it short.

Just the other day, I was putting some stuff into her dresser  drawer and found a stack of lists. Now everyone who knew her knew she was world famous for her list making; but I never knew she saved what she thought were the important ones.  I won’t say she was a hoarder but she did hate to throw things away.   On the kitchen table, I even found a list for me about how she wanted this service to go.  If we had followed that list exactly, you would all be seated alphabetically and color coded  by family.

She loved her family and I hope none of you were offended that you were not listed in the obituary. If we included all the family members that she loved, it would have read like an Italian who’s who.  The key word here is LOVE and Pat did love people. She never knew a stranger  and I mean that literally. No matter where we went, she would be pointing out someone she was sure she knew.  I have to say that everyone she knew was a little better off having known her.

This was followed by a solo of the Lords Prayer.

Now, with Christmas bearing down, I try to continue remembering the good times. I hope the Kids and I can share the love and joys of the season with each other to fill the void created by Pat’s absence.

Now, as this year comes to a close, so does this annual Christmas Letter. It also brings with it a close of a major chapter in my life but not the end my life. I have new challenges to conquer, new mountains to climb, and new adventures to live. And yes, I have new Christmas Letters to write. This letter was difficult to write but I felt it was necessary. For some, it was probably difficult to read. Even if you found it difficult to read, I hope you gained some understanding of Pat and I and our true love for each other. We had a great life together of more than 50 years. We produced two wonderful daughters and watched our 2 grand kids grow. I pray none of you will need to walk this path behind me but I’m sure some will. If you do, let my account give you some understanding of the road ahead and above all, keep the faith; nurture the love; and let in the Light.

May 2019 bring you a new awareness of your place in the world of spirit and may that place be filled with health, happiness and Love.

Bless you all,
Love and Light, I AM,

Dulany

It’s not a black and white world!

How would you like to go back to black and white movies or TV? It seems to me that a black and white world is what our political system has become. Black or white, Republican or Democrat, White or non-white, Christian or non-Christian, these are the choices we seem to be given. What ever happened to the balance? Our country was designed to be a balance of the opposite opinions; that’s why so many checks and balances were included in our constitution. E pluribus unum or one out of many is found on the Great Seal of the United States. It signifies that we are one Nation coming from many differing peoples. The term United States signifies the uniting of many into one but somehow the recent political system is anything but united.

It seems that both sides have wandered to opposite ends of the spectrum of black vs. white. The compromise is all but gone; and yet if you come to the people when put on the spot, they will instinctively come together for the good of the group. This is as it should be. Look around at the actions of the people in natural disasters; you will find blacks running into burning buildings to save white people. The reverse is equally true. So, why do our elected representatives not represent US!? The reason seems simple to me. They are not there to govern, they are there to feather their own caps. To do this they choose up sides to compete with each other from opposite sides of the fence. Nobody wants to walk up to the fence and offer their hand to a counter-part. They huddle in dark rooms devising plans to defeat the others. But, the others are also us. Just like there have always been good and evil, there has always been fighting in government and most people have accepted the fact;  thinking there is nothing they can do about it.  With the prevalence of wide spread communication from the airwaves to the internet, these teams or gangs of politicians are now trying to increase their gangs strength by enlisting we the people. Is this what we have become? Political gangs?

We the people are NOT really that different. Sure we have differences of opinion and those differences are in degrees but we have been brainwashed to believe our gang is best and the only one that can save the country from the other.

Let’s start with our opinions about immigrants. We all know our country was made up of immigrants. The American Indians are the ONLY indigenous peoples here and at one time I guess they had to come here from someplace. I’m a liberal but I don’t want complete open borders. We do need to provide a fair way for immigrants to escape repression and fear, for a better life in America just like all our forefathers did. We need a fair and equitable way to allow them to find safe harbor here and become citizens. That should be their goal and ours. They should not be supported by the government besides humanitarian aid unless they do become citizens. The fact that they are all getting public aid and such is not factual. Yes, we do provide for illegal alien pregnant mothers because they are carrying future citizens. That is the the current law. We need a system that is not yes, you can move in or no you can’t cross our borders. We need a conditional approach. OK, you can come in to save your self and your children from the persecution in your country but you must become a contributing member of our society or leave after a prescribed time.

How about abortion? I remember running for school board and someone asked me what was my stand on abortion. I paused and replied, ” I would definitely be against it in the classroom!” No, I didn’t win that election! And, No, I don’t believe in killing but I also think a woman has the right to control her own body. Again, it isn’t a simple right or wrong. If we turn to making all abortion illegal, what is next? Will it be all forms of birth control?

Let’s look at the form of government. What do you really want the government to do?  I think most of us want the government to protect us and to provide services.  OK, should those services be actually provided by the government or private sectors?  Should they be capitalistic or  more socialistic? I’m sure many of you cringe at the thought of socialism so you jump to capitalism.  With pure capitalism, all these services would be provided by private firms. Perhaps the Pinkertons could provide police services on a person by person basis. Roads would all be private and would be operated on a toll basis.  No public libraries and the internet would be completely unregulated so things like Facebook might be at additional cost. There would be no public lakes or parks. These are all a form of socialism where they are owned by the government and used by all equally. I think most of us would not want a completely capitalistic system.  It’s just not practical or economically sustainable. How about schools where the poor would have no access. This country used to lead the world in innovation because we had a good worker base that were educated to be able to perform difficult production.  Public education is socialistic. Like everything else socialism and capitalism are not just black and white. The capitalists need to be regulated to provide services and products that are safe  realistically priced and the socialists need to be constrained so as not to take over all production like communism.

Life is not just black and white. It is all forms and shapes of colors and shades.  Our data might have gone binary but our life is far from it.  Rather than yelling at each other over the fence, we need to talk to one another. I’m betting we have far more in common than our politicians want us to believe.  Get out of the political gangs and join the unity of all humanity.

Obviously, this is my opinion. I’m no expert but I do know that the present state of our nation is not good and we need to reign in the hate speech from both sides.

Love and Light

How free are those free services?

For those of you who follow me on this blog and on FaceBook, you know that I spend most of my posting time on FaceBook. It is so easy to just drop in a quick post and be done. It can be something as  Innocuous as a video of my ride through the park on my new e-bike or thought provoking as some “thought for the day”. Whatever it is, I don’t feel the need to fill a page by any means.  This blog, on the other hand, requires more thought and consideration.  Where Facebook is like a neighborhood chat, a true website is more publicly distributed.  I can also see more about how many view the articles and pictures.

It is said that if you think you are getting a product or service free, you are the product. In the case of FB, the posters get readers and the readers  become customers for the multitude of adds placed by FB on the pages.  So, in reality, as a FB participant, you provide FB with prospective customers and FB provides you with a platform to interact with your friends.  That part is OK but they also collect information about you and your friends and sell that information to third parties.  I’m not too keen on that.  They are certainly not alone there.

Google that google this. What a great free service Google is. Why are they doing this nice service for us free?  Every time, you google something, you are telling them what you want.  You tell them what interests you. You tell them where you eat, where you go on vacation. You are telling them your sexual preferences, and your medical needs.  If some unknown person came to your door and asked you all these questions, you would be ready to call the police but you give google ALL your secrets.  How will that information be used to benefit Google and the clients it sells the data to.  Once they know how you think, they know how to push your buttons to get you to buy something, vote for someone, or send you email or FB posts to use your weaknesses to pull you in to their way of thinking.  You are being played and don’t even know it.

Studying the way the mind thinks, counselors can be used to help you through troubling times. This same information, used improperly,  can be used to control the way you think.  It is a little like personal propaganda where those wanting to control you, can exploit your negative characteristics for their own gain. Groups of similar thinking people can be played like puppets on a string.

Think about recent decisions you have made recently.  How many of those decisions have had external influences?

Autobiography – The Theater Years

Chapter  (xxx) of a work in progress
The theater years

At this advanced age of over 70, I can still recall my childhood memories but the time line is often blurred. I guess I categorize them into often overlapping files. A very large file might be labeled “the theater” In the early 50’s while we still lived in Decatur, Mom and my stepdad had a summer theater in Blue Mound Illinois. It was in their park. There were good and bad times there. My weekends were spent playing around the theater while Mom and Bill (That’s what I called my step-dad) built additions to the outdoor stage and out buildings. In the beginning the actors would have to change in a neighbor’s house across the street. Later they built a dressing room. It was just one room and there was no room to be modest. Remember that Scorpio influence?  I liked the dressing rooms. I had a crush on one of the younger actresses. OK, I was what, about 8, but I knew what I liked. She was in her early 20’s – an older woman.

Blue Moun d Theater
Pandora Players – Blue Mound, IL

I also remember the nights after the performances. The cast would go to a neighborhood bar. I had to go too. Those were the days without smoking bans and I can remember how my eyes would burn from the need to sleep and the excessive smoke. It seemed like the bar would never close. Sometimes I would try to sleep on a booth bench or even in the corner on the floor. These were some of the not-so-good times. I just wanted to go home and go to bed.

Construction of new theater in Arthur, IL

About the same time that we moved to Springfield so Bill could take a job with a local radio station, a manufacturing plant in Arthur Illinois, offered to build us a new outdoor theater. It would be state of the art. I guess they wanted to bring a little culture to the community.

Pandora Players advertising
Newspaper ad for Pandora Players at Progress Park, Arthur, IL

The theater was beautiful but it was away from Decatur enough that the crowds just didn’t follow us. I was in a couple of the plays and I enjoyed that. I also helped a lot with the technical side. I remember the dressing rooms were now separated and as I was getting older, it was harder to hang around and watch the girls. I guess I was a dirty old man at 12!  We would stay in a motel after the Friday and Saturday night performances and I would share a room with Bill and my Mom. After they thought I was asleep, they would have sex. It was arousing and very uncomfortable at the same time. It probably had a more profound effect on me than I realize. I was growing up far too quickly.

There were many fun times in the theater. I’ll never forget closing nights. Our plays ran for several weekends in a row and during the time we were presenting one show another was in rehearsal to be ready to open the weekend after the previous one closed. Opening nights were usually a little rough but by the time we were at the end of the run, everything was running like clockwork. All the actors were professional quality and could cover up almost everything. On closing night, it was everyone’s goal to break up another actor without jeopardizing the show. The audience could never know anything unusual was going on.

The most common gag was the “not so blank” notes. On the stage, when there was a letter or telegram or any kind of note used, they were normally blank. But on closing night, that was never the case. I remember one telegram that contained a beautiful drawing of a naked woman complete with stage-makeup hair placed in all the necessary places. The trick for the actors was not to show any unusual reaction. They would often ad-lib to get someone else in on the joke. They might look at the note and rather than read it, they might say, “You should read this.” And pass it onto another actor. By that time in the run, they knew the contents and could recite it but then again why not pass it on to someone else?  The note might contain a joke or a picture. Anything out of the ordinary could be used. Another joke regarding letters was to tape them up so they were difficult to open. In this case it was necessary to get the note out of the envelope without looking like you are struggling. Keep in mind this would never work if the actors were not very good because under no circumstances could the audience know. I have seen the actors turn away from the audience while they tried to recompose themselves all the time while the other actor was ad-libbing to keep everything moving properly.

Most of the jokes used props. There might be real wine in the glass rather than colored water. There might be a funny face on a watch. The list goes on but one of my favorites was a piece of luggage. On closing night, it was full of things like fireplace andirons, a box of nails, anything we could find that was heavy. It was placed close to the door to be carried in on with an actor’s entrance. There was no thought to pick it up prior to the entrance time so when Bill heard his cue, he attempted to pick it up and go on. What a surprise but there was nothing to do but carry it on. Remember, nobody in the audience could know so the struggling had to be undetectable. So what did he do when it was time to carry the bag off? Pass it onto someone else! “Grab that bag for me would you Hank?” No use wasting such a good prank on just one person.

Some of the pranks were produced by the technical staff, who often were also the actors. I remember one time where someone looked out a stage window and commented on a car out in the pretend street. It was supposed to be a red sports car and the line was, “It looks like a damn fire engine.” You guessed it, we had a toy fire engine complete with flashing red lights outside the stage window. Another time we set up a red spotlight in the fake fireplace and when the actor threw in a piece of coal, we flashed the light. The actor was caught off guard and threw in another to see if it would happen again. This went on for what seemed like eternity until all the coal in the bucket was gone

For those of you not familiar with theater settings, the stage set is constructed of flats that were 12 feet tall and different widths up to about 5 feet. 60 inches was the width of the muslin material used to cover the wooden frame. The frame is covered with the muslin material which is glued and stapled in place and then it is painted which causes it to shrink tightly on the frame. To make the shrinking material stay smooth, the muslin is painted with a big “X” from corner to corner or sometimes two  “x” s; on above the other.  Wooden dowels are set into the inside edge of the frame  on both side edges.  These flats are stood up and lashed together with ropes from dowel to dowel.  The ropes were permanently attached to one side of each flat. Once they are all together, they are relatively stable.  Right angle braces were nailed temporarily to some flats and held down with concrete blocks or sometimes nailed to the floor. On Friday afternoon, we would have to go to the theater and set up the set for the weekend. On Sunday after the show, we would have to take it down and put it away for the week. If you recall, I said this was outdoor summer theater so the set had to withstand the elements as did the actors.

On a hot summer evening, with the lights up full out in the middle of Illinois farm land, there were more bugs than you can imagine. They were everywhere and I do mean everywhere. You might find them crawling up your leg or down your blouse or shirt. This could be very disconcerting. When it was time to take a drink out of a glass sitting on stage, it was necessary to strain the watered down tea through your teeth to keep the swimming bugs out. But the show must go on.

Another problem with outdoor theater was noise. The neighborhood drag races we endured in Blue Mound were replaced by quieter Buggy races in Arthur, home of  the Amish. But they also had a busy train track. Keep in mind the actors didn’t have personal mikes in those days. Sometimes,  there were stage mikes across the front of the stage but if you didn’t know how to project your voice, nobody would hear you. When you had to compete with a train, guess who wins? The actors would go into suspended animation. You think it takes forever waiting for a freight train to clear a crossing; try freezing for that time.

There was another outdoor problem even worse than trying to stand still for a train passing. That was trying to keep the set still during a wind storm. When I described the construction of the individual flats, you might have seen them as large rectangular sails in your mind. You would not be far from the truth and when you have up to 100 feet of them lashed together, you have a large sailing ship under full sail. Even a slight wind would start to ripple the muslin and rumble almost like thunder; and as the wind increased, some flats would start to lift off the stage. Yes, they were weighted or nailed down but a few nails were no match for a wind storm. Back stage we would be running around trying to put weight on the attached braces. Some times that weight was us holding tightly. Where is that good heavy suitcase when you need it? If you have ever tried to carry a piece of paneling or any other large piece of material out in the wind, you have a small idea of what it was like. If we were lucky the wind would subside. If not, it reached a point that we had to either strike the set (take it down) or lose it! There were times when the audience came up on stage and helped try to save the set. I think this exemplifies the “family like” relationship we had even with the audience. They became one with the actors and their character.

There were other times when an overnight storm would devastate the set and us when we returned the next morning knowing we would have to rebuild the set somehow to get ready for that night’s performance. I was only a kid then so I didn’t fully realize what it was like. I knew how upset my parents were when they saw the mess. I didn’t think about the responsibility of having to rebuild for that night’s show or cancel the performance. I didn’t think about the money. Now I understand what it must have been like. When you are born to act, the curtain call is euphoric. It is a shot of a super drug. You can’t just give it up. It is an addiction. To feed that addiction, you must rebuild and not consider the cost. You must continue to produce shows even when you are always in the red. You have to have it.

It was a good thing Mom inherited a lot of money because she had to bankroll the habit. But all the setbacks took their toll. One year, Bill went to New York and interviewed professional actors to form a new summer stock theater they planned to open in Bushkill Pennsylvania in the Pocono Mountains.

Bushkill Playhouse program cover for Private Lives
Bushkill Playhouse program cover

By this time, I was about 14. I remember that because I learned to drive that summer in the parking lot of the new theater. This was an inside theater and we didn’t have to worry about weather. Unfortunately, we didn’t have to worry too much about pleasing the crowds either because there weren’t many. The thoughts of filling the house with vacationing Easterners never materialized. Although, I made some new adult friends, it was another wasted summer and a costly one to Mom.

The final chapter of my theater remembrances took place in Springfield where they opened a new style theater. In the ballroom of the Abraham Lincoln Hotel, they opened a dinner theater. For a minimal fee, theater goers got a great dinner, a glass of champagne and a play. The theater was known as the Champagne Cabaret Theater.

Theater program
Theater program

I was the technical director. I built the minimal sets and did the lights and sound. For the first time I even got paid. This endeavor actually made money but not much. Mom ran the office taking reservations during the day and they rehearsed in the evenings. I did the technical work. This was probably the first time Bill showed me any respect. It was that or pay me a decent salary. After graduating from High School, and a year at the local College, I went to work in Chicago and attended DeVry Institute of Technology. I drove home on the weekends to do the lights and sound for the theater. In 1964…. The Abe Lincoln was scheduled to close and The theater moved to the Leland Hotel. It was never as successful there.

Newspaper article regarding the family in the theater
Newspaper article regarding the family in the theater

During my stint as the technical director, I carried on the closing night tradition but the actors we used were not the same as the ones back in Blue Mound and Arthur. There was not the same comradery. They were not family friends and most of them were not local. It was not the same. But I remember my favorite prank.

Normally stage phones are dead. The actors talk to dead air during stage conversations. Closing night of one show was different. I hooked up the phone to my sound system and when Mom picked up the phone, I played “go little Honda” over the phone. The significance of the song was that I was trying to get permission to get a Honda motorcycle. I never did get a motorcycle until after I was married. I almost broke her up with that. The next conversation was with Bill on the phone. This time I used my microphone and talked back to him. Needless to say, it was nothing like what he was expecting. We all got a laugh out of that one. It was a prank not to be topped. I don’t remember much more about the theater. In 1968, I was married and moved away. . Those were good times that I will never forget. I considered the actors my friends and I related better with them than my own peers.

Bill and Mom didn’t do much after the theater closed at the Leland. They did some one act plays for organizations. They tried to do some local work but when they were no longer in charge, the parts dwindled. They did try a season out at Clayville, a historical farm west of Springfield and a season in the Elks ballroom.  They were not very successful financially.  Bill took a very small part in a play in Sullivan where they bring in stars for the primary rolls. Bill’s world was slowly collapsing around him. He had a major heart attack and several other health issues. He lost his job at the TV station for health reasons and was out of work for some time. In 1976, he tried out for a lead in Fiddler on the roof at the local Municipal opera. Had he not gotten that part, he would have been devastated. He died of a second massive  heart attack before he found out if he got the part. Perhaps, inside he knew it was not to be and he preferred to back out of life gracefully. His ashes were scattered over the grounds of that first summer theater in Blue Mound, IL.  His journey was over; most of Mom’s money was gone. She spent the next 15 years either drunk or strung out on prescription drugs.

Theater timeline
Theater timeline

Sunday Message:

Picture of uprooted tree
Tree uprooted

Have you ever looked at a tree that has been blown over in the wind? In my experience, I have noticed that they often have lots of surface roots but few deep penetrating roots. When the soil gets saturated, it gets soft and offers little support to the tall tree being blown by the wind. In the end, the tree is no match for the strong winds. Life is a lot like that too. We all strive to grow tall but if we fail to anchor into a solid base, we too can easily be blown down. Once taken down in this manner, it is very difficult to ever reach the tall stature of our recent past.

If we look at the germinating seed, we will see that it first sends out roots to get water and nutrients; then the plant sends out the exposed portion to reach for the light. These two needs are engrained in the DNA. It does not think about it; it simply knows that it must first anchor itself to the Earth and draw sustenance from Mother Earth and then it can grow into the light. At some point, it will it will have to know how tall and how deep it should go. If it gets regular gratification from constant watering, it will channel its energy to send out surface roots to take in the “easy” water. These roots are not strong but they can grow quickly and absorb much of the light regular rainfall. But if the rains are less constant and the top soil dries out, it knows to dive deeper into the soil for the deep water. The healthy plant will balance the deep and surface root extent. So, it is the hardships and lack that promotes the stronger and deeper roots.

Understanding the simple life, can help us understand the more complex life we lead. We also need to balance our entity. We need the deep roots of family and friends; that is our physical strength, our security. We also need the strength of spirit. That is our link to the whole. My first choice of words here would be God but there are those who don’t understand that word. They think of God as some supreme being hanging around in Heaven. Others will say, “ No, God is a trinity; Father, Son and holy Ghost” . Others will think we are talking about one of many Gods as in the Greek or Roman Gods. All these understandings are good examples of the religions of the world. But if you try to say, “God is the supreme being of all Christians or Jews or Muslims, is to say that the religion came before God. How can that be? God was the beginning before there was religion. If you except the concept that God is everywhere, then everywhere and everything is God or better said everything makes up God. Knowing that we all are a part of God, tells us that we all are a part of each other. Sorry I had to get off on this tangent but it is so important in this age were we are being pitted against each other. Are we just dogs forced to fight each other like caged dogs in a dog fight?  Have we not learned anything from the time of the gladiators?

OK, back to the trees. In life, we try to grow tall so we can have lots of leaves to capture the sunlight energy. We can relate this to the quest for wealth. The leaves are like dollars. While they do give us more access to additional sunlight, they also require more care, They have to be supported and fed and watered. For that we need the roots. The wise tree will send his roots deep for the more pure water less dependent on regular rainfall. But like the little pigs, with their houses of sticks and straw, we often take the easy way and this would be those surface roots. Without our ties to the spiritual side of life, we are like the rolling tumbleweed; blowing from one field to another.

Currently, we are being tested by events in our country and the world. We can fight like the dogs that some have become or bury our heads in the ground and be destined to blow around with the tumbleweed. The third option is to take this challenge to strengthen ourselves both physically and spiritually. We can reconnect with all life for the betterment of the universe and fight tyranny wherever it shows itself. We must dig deep down into our soul and find that which we are and stand tall against those who would throw us to the lions. Life is not a game; there are no winners or losers; only survivors.

Love and Light, I AM,
Dulany

The land of the Red, White and Blue

Once upon a time in a land not so far away, there was a world called the Red White and Blue. After  the Raping of the land by the Greedy unnamed corporate entities, much of the landscape was barren.  With each new oil well pumping the land’s lifeblood from her body, the land would shiver and shake as if to attempt to shake off this nuisance bug.  Finally, there was a massive shake and several volcanoes, inactive for centuries belched forth immeasurable ash and rock. The ruling elite built fortresses underground and due to the limited sunlight, they became pale and were known  as the white race. The non-elite were forced to find shelter on the outside.

The continuous winter conditions were the result of the ash in the air completely obscuring the sun much of the time.  A pole shift had re-positioned the world so that this land was on the equator but the poor air quality still limited the amount of sunlight.  It was a harsh world and there was fighting among the two races but these people were adaptable.  They could work with their hands and they had many resources from the violence-torn urban areas.  Some had been able set up living spaces from old campers and off-grid camps in the wilderness areas. Others tried to use the old uninhabited urban neighborhoods.

These people were of two races. There was the red race and the blue race.  The reds were the followers of the white race but the elites turned on them when the times got hard  and left them behind when they moved underground.  The reds preferred to be more independent and had only a minimal governing  body.  They believed each person was responsible for himself  and that charity would promote weakness and dependency.  The blues were more clan-like and worked together for each other.  While the clan was able to work together, it was hard for any to get ahead because they were carrying others who were not productive.

Before the uprisings, they had worked together balancing each other.  But the whites, who did little to actually contribute to the populous kept increasing fees and taxes. They were like the catalyst that kept things flowing. They were the bankers who loaned money and charged interest. They didn’t actually add anything  to the transaction, they just collected the fees. Yes, they were the glue that seemed to hold things together but they were also parasites, constantly sapping the strength of the people.  Everything would have been fine but they got greedy.  Keep in mind that before the great war, they were of the red and blue race, it was only after they crushed the workers under crippling debt and taxes and  reduced freedoms that the working people revolted.  But the whites were not stupid by any means. They knew that to protect themselves, they would keep the reds and blues fighting among themselves blaming each other for their plight in life.  All this time, the whites who belonged to a secrete mystical society, gathered their needs and built their world underground for protection.

This was also the time that they conjured up a mystical dragon to protect them and their possessions. They called the dragon Aleen ( Ay  lee en ). It stood 20 ft tall and had 3 legs on each side of its monstrous body.  He could stand on the four back legs and still strike out with the front two although they were short. Each leg ended in clawed feet  that had opposing claws so they could grab objects or people.  It was also able to breathe fire from its mouth.  The people were in constant fear; for it would always come in the darkness.  it could and did do unmentionable things as it ravaged the countryside.  Few people saw Aleen and lived to tell the story but there were reports in the red camps that Aleen had a blue flame colored head and they suspected he was sent by the blue race. But strangely, in the blue encampments, stories were told of his fiery red head. They were convinced it was sent by the red race.  There were stories among some of the drifters that Aleen could be found in the daytime sleeping in the red rocks canyon.  There were high stone walls on either side of the canyon and it was a dead end canyon.  Because the two dragons were different colors, it was suspected that perhaps they were brothers.

The elders of the red clan decided that they would send their best warrior to slay the dragon while he slept in the canyon. They feared that sending more than one would awaken the dragon but a single warrior might be able to sneak up and kill Aleen.  They would wait for the darkness of the new moon and the warrior would sleep during the days and only venture out at night for the three preceding nights so he would be accustomed to the night vision.

Perhaps it was coincidence or action by the Gods but the blue elders had devised the same plan.  As the shaded sun sank over the horizon,  both warriors headed to the canyon. Neither knew of the other but as they neared the entrance to the canyon, the red warrior saw the blue  warrior ahead of him. Being from the more aggressive  race, red thought he would stay out of sight and get close enough to attack from behind, killing the blue knight and then go on to slay the dragon.  He followed from a distance until they neared the canyon entrance.  He moved closer into attacking distance; but then he heard the blue one chanting a prayer just under his breath.  “ I am one with the spirit. The life force resides in me  . . . . . . I am one with the spirit. The life force resides in me.  Oh, great spirit, hear me now”  What is this chant that sounds so familiar? Do I know this man? He hesitated and then raised his sword into the air.  With his highly polished sword raised over-head to strike down  the blue knight,  the blue knight seemed to radiate a blue light around him and the light from the glistening sward reflected on to the rocks ahead and there before them were the sleeping dragons. Both were apparently side by side because although their bodies were hidden by a massive bolder, each had his neck outstretched lying on the ground on either side of the rock.  Each knight saw their adversary and they now also saw each other more clearly.  They now faced evil personified in the two dragons. Would it not be more advantageous to work together?

They devised a plan to use the strong steel stranded rope  to tie the two dragons together and the two warriors could  fight them as one demon.  They  made a slip noose in each end of the rope and looped the rope around the tree that stood  in front of the boulder.  Then they took each end  loop to their respective dragon’s head. The idea was to hold the loop open in front of the dragon’s head so that when he lunged toward them, he would thrust his head through the loop and pull the noose tight.  Both knew that either or both of them could be easily killed if everything did not go just right.  They got into position, holding the loop open and ready to throw it over the attacking head.  Each held their weapon  ready to drive into the dragon’s eye. There was a nod and silently, one, two, three, PLUNGE!  The Gods must have been watching over them that night because the plan worked even better than they had planned. Each head lunged forward and pulled the noose tightly around the necks  but the two dragons did not get up from behind the huge rock and attack together because what the knights realized was that this was not two dragons. It was a single dragon with two heads. It symbolized the evil in both the red and blue races. So, the warriors were facing their own dark selves and that is why the dragon was so powerful.  Now the dragon had turned on himself as each head tried to get loose by pulling the noose tighter around each neck and he eventually killed himself.

As the two fighting warriors rejoiced at their success they started to  walked back to their respective camps, The blue knight started to recite another chant. “ We all are  one with the Light. There is but one Light. We are all one” . The red knight stopped him and ask what he was chanting; it was so familiar but yet he had never heard it before.

The Blue Knight explained, “It is familiar with you because it is impressed on our DNA as a resonance force. I always thought it was just the Blue race that resonated with the chant. If you feel it too then we too are brothers.  I learned of this story from my great grandfather who lived before the great eruptions.  He learned it from his forefathers.  The legend says that the sun will be taken from the sky for many seasons but  when two of different colors come together to slay the great beast, peace will come to our world.  It is said that they will come back dragging the light force behind them.  They will rule for 1000 season cycles.  It also says that they will help the white race regain their color but the white ones will never rule again.

AS the new brothers walked across the desert singing the chants together, the world began to echo the resonance and a fine mist formed and was bringing down the ash and an ever-spreading  ribbon of green and brightly colored flowers sprung up behind them in the rich ash soil as if the two were dragging them across the desert behind them.  When they looked ahead,  they could see the first light spreading across the land as the sky cleared.  It was the first sunrise on a new era in the land of the Red, White and Blue.

Merry Christmas 2016

The first Sriner Christmas letter was printed on my spirit duplicator; remember those purple printed pages we got in school that could almost get you high from the smell, if it was just printed by the teacher.   Next, the letter  was printed on the mimeograph machine. Remember  that messy ink splattered  print we also got in school. I had both at my book store.  Then along came computers and home color printing. I moved into that media and was able to add color pictures to the Christmas Letter.  The older I got, the more I had to say and early printed letters were often 4 -5 pages printed front and back.  Even on light paper, the over-weighted cards became costly to print and mail as more and more people requested them.  Next, computers started talking to each other over the internet.  Suddenly, you could send color graphics and even video with the click of the button.  Over the years of ever-increasing digital communications, my letters evolved to the point that only digital format was practical. That is where we are now.  It is also now phone or tablet friendly; unlike the pdf versions I have posted in the past.  In this fast paced life we have built for ourselves,  we don’t even have or take the time to sit down at the computer and read email. We are ever-increasingly reading our mail on the phone while riding an elevator or waiting in line at the grocery store. It’s also a great way to pass the time waiting for the doctor; something that I and many of my friends do on a regular basis.  If we continue on this trend, soon we will have to confine our communications to a 140 character tweet.  If it comes to that, sorry but you will have to come visit me so I can tell you about my past year.  So,  for now, hang on; here we go; off for a ride through the thoughts of 2016.

As I try to chronicle the past year into a digestible serving of the meat and potatoes of life topped with a delicate humorous glaze of slap-stick and satire, I find myself face-planted against the reality wall of  CANCER.  There, I have said it! It is that word whispered in corners of the room by family and friends.  It isn’t something that can be wrapped up and tied with a bow to open at some unknown time in the future.  It is here and it directs, either directly or indirectly, the final scenes in this drama of life.  Yes, it can be postponed but it does not go away.  But, as they say, the show must go on and Pat is the strongest, most positive, most giving person I know.  The bad news is that the cancer is still slowly growing ; the good news is that the cancer is growing slowly and the medications have had few side effects. Thank God we have good doctors and good insurance.  I can’t even imagine what it would be like if the stress included the worry of how to pay for the care.

OK, so we have now faced the elephant in the room.  No, I’m NOT referring to me although I can see the resemblance.  I have reached that point where anything below my belly button is considered on the dark side of the moon.  Otherwise, I am relatively healthy.  Sure, I have those aches and pains that seem to accompany this age also aggravated by inherited spine problems but  I consider myself lucky. I can still get onto and off the roof and can do a little work while up there.  Yes, projects do take longer but time I have.

dsdigitals_4fb-8832 dsdigitals_4fb-8849This past year’s major project was the kitchen remodel and although we are still looking at a patchwork of multicolored cabinets, otherwise, it is finished. My only regret is that we didn’t do it long ago. It is so much more convenient.  There is nothing about the new design that I don’t like.  I love the new appliances and new window.  I enjoy cooking and it is much easier to enjoy in the new environment.

When I look back on the year, I see it can be divided between trips to visit with the doctors and trips to visit with nature and friends.  It is sometimes challenging to balance these two aspects of our current life.  While we considered a trip south to consume part of the winter, the threats of weather problems both getting out of, and returning to, home were more stressful with health issues.  We find ourselves less flexible both physically and mentally.  The “what-ifs” can certainly put a damper on plans. Even a planned outing in May was cancelled due to weather.   It was June before we ventured out in the camper and even then, it was just out to Sangchris SP for a long weekend. .  The end of June brought a visit from our new friends, the Boones, who we met at Rocky Mountain National Park while camping. We camped together this time out at New Salem and visited with them  each day they were here.  We could not show them around as much as we wanted, but we did have a great time.  It is friendships like this that bring true value to life.

It wasn’t until August that we ventured out again; for a visit with another wonderful couple, the Felds, up in Door County, Wisconsin.  We decided to stay camped in their driveway and they were exceptional hosts.  Aside from providing full hookups for the camper, they tried to feed us every night.  I tried to reciprocate by fixing my self-proclaimed famous crab tacos.  In my excitement to share my dish, I overdid with the sriracha dressing.  It didn’t even occur to me that they didn’t like hot food. This was a major blunder on my part. When Hans coughed and lit the candles across the room, I got the idea that perhaps it was too hot.  Fortunately, Nancy had some cooling desert to sooth the fire.   We planned the trip around the Tall Ships Festival and spent two full days watching and photographing the ships as they entered and left Sturgeon Bay.  What a wonderful time it was.

tall_ships_sturgeon_bay-1569-edit-1 tall_ships_sturgeon_bay_2016-9178-edit-1 tall_ships_sturgeon_bay-1209-edit-1 tall_ships_sturgeon_bay-1350-edit-1

click here for more tall ships pictures

Shortly after returning home, we were hosting another high school friend, Karen Hart,  here at our house.  Actually, we set her up in our camper “guest house”  for the time she was here. Again, more time with the companionship of friends.  While Karen was here, we were also able to enjoy a short visit with another HS friend, Mary Gasperin.  I guess you could say, August was Old friends month!  The key word here is “old”, no strike that; make it “friends”.

turkey_run_sp_barns_and_bridges-2094-1 turkey_run_sp_barns_and_bridges-9893-edit-1In September, we headed over to Turkey Run State Park in Indiana,  for a week camping and visiting the sights there.  We crisscrossed the area photographing barns and covered bridges.  We are slowly finding a balance between the resting stages and the sightseeing events. We need both.  We are also finding ourselves able to take our time to see the little things and stop and visit with folks.  It used to be Go, Go, Go the whole time we were out; but now it is Go, rest, go, rest, rest, go.  Aside from missing one barn I wanted to re-photograph, we saw everything we wanted to see. We even took a less than rewarding trip down to Brown County where I remember stories of an artsy area with lots of barns.  It turned out to be too commercialized for us. We drove around and headed back. It felt like a wasted day.  The end of September brought more friends from High School as we gathered for a mini-reunion, 70th birthday gathering.

In October, we hit the road again. This time, we were headed for the east side of Lake Michigan.  We were delighted to be going to visit another old friend from High School, Julie Avery in Empire, Michigan. Not coincidentally, this was the location of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lake Shore.  We camped there in the national park. The campground was AWESOME!  The first night there, we were delighted to have a surprise visit from Julie.  I don’t think anybody ever did that before. It was a nice welcome.  It is an interesting note that we were almost directly across Lake Michigan from Nancy  Feld. I tried to wave to her, but apparently she does not have as good eyesight as Sarah Palin because she could not see us just across the lake.  Barns, Barns, and more barns would be the keynote for this visit. We ventured up two peninsulas on either side of Traverse City, MI and zig-zagged our way back down.

empire_-mi_trip_2016-3065_6_7_8matrix-edit-edit-1 empire_-mi_trip_2016-1362-edit-1 empire_-mi_trip_2016-3052_3_4_5matrix-edit-1 The beautiful barns made for a delightful outing. We will definitely be going up there again.  Click here for more barn pictures. We shared a dinner at Julie’s home and another at the local restaurant.  Two specific events come to mind when I think back about this trip. The first would have to be the “wrong turn” guided by our GPS.  It was one of those back road short cuts. It was the closest we have come to the 4WD drive we found going up to Crystal Mill Colorado.  There were not the sheer drop offs but the ruts and muddy rills made up for that. Add in low hanging branches and a steady light rain and you have a real adventure.  The second event was not as exciting but rather an incidence of self-awareness. We pulled into the parking lot at the base of an extremely tall sand dune.  We debated getting out, but decided to just stay in the truck and enjoy our PBJ sandwich.  Before us was the sky reaching sand dune with young and older adventurers at various points ascending the dune.  At the provided picnic tables, were people putting on shoes or taking them off. I watched, almost in a daze contemplating the ascent of the “mountain”.  It took all of my willpower to stay in the car and NOT try to conquer the sandy slope.  I’m sure I could have made it just because of sheer will but at what cost?  As I second guess myself now, I’m not sure I won’t try it at some time in a future visit. Being old is still new to me and it is hard to accept.

November didn’t bring any camping but we were able to have Thanksgiving here again after several years celebrating with Krystal and Steve’s family.  No, we didn’t live with them for  four years and celebrate, we went to their home several times to celebrate Thanksgiving.  It was nice to have the family, Krystal, Kim, Joshua and Emily all together for a more intimate meal.  Now, we are getting ready for Christmas and a new year.

A recount  of 2016 would not be complete without some comment on the election and the state of our world. Last year, I talked about the great divide I was seeing in our country.  Now, it has grown to shameful proportions.  It could easily erupt into a small scale civil war depending on what transpires over the next year.

According to Edger Cayce, Plato and many other philosophers, there was an ancient continent of Atlantis. It was very advanced much like we are today. It too became divided between two factions. The one faction believed that we were all one; interconnected in spirit.  The other faction broke away from that belief as they enjoyed the thought that they were better and deserved to control those below themselves.   As long as they just fought among themselves, they were allowed to have free will,  but when they  lost respect of the land and misused it,  the Earth, also a living being, made the necessary changes to correct the attack on itself. Atlantis, like Lemuria before it, was taken to the bottom of the ocean for cleansing.

I resonate with the belief that we are all one in spirit. That means those who believe and those who don’t are still interconnected.  This spirit has no color, no religion and no sex.  I know, I don’t like that last part either.  I just pray that we can all remember who and what we are before  we blow each other up like many of the prophesies predict.

Love and Light,
the Sriners

The first Sriner Christmas letter was printed on my spirit duplicator; remember those purple printed pages we got in school that could almost get you high from the smell, if it was just printed by the teacher.   Next, the letter  was printed on the mimeograph machine. Remember  that messy ink splattered  print we also got in school. I had both at my book store.  Then along came computers and home color printing. I moved into that media and was able to add color pictures to the Christmas Letter.  The older I got, the more I had to say and early printed letters were often 4 -5 pages printed front and back.  Even on light paper, the over-weighted cards became costly to print and mail as more and more people requested them.  Next, computers started talking to each other over the internet.  Suddenly, you could send color graphics and even video with the click of the button.  Over the years of ever-increasing digital communications, my letters evolved to the point that only digital format was practical. That is where we are now.  It is also now phone or tablet friendly; unlike the pdf versions I have posted in the past.  In this fast paced life we have built for ourselves,  we don’t even have or take the time to sit down at the computer and read email. We are ever-increasingly reading our mail on the phone while riding an elevator or waiting in line at the grocery store. It’s also a great way to pass the time waiting for the doctor; something that I and many of my friends do on a regular basis.  If we continue on this trend, soon we will have to confine our communications to a 140 character tweet.  If it comes to that, sorry but you will have to come visit me so I can tell you about my past year.  So,  for now, hang on; here we go; off for a ride through the thoughts of 2016.

I remember

I remember walking through the trees listening to God speak through the  whistling branches and singing sparrow.  I remember fording  the shimmering stream where the fish would glance against my  shin  and the water would weave between my toes. God spoke to me there also. He said, ” The energy is in the water, it is pure like the spirit.”  I remember the sound of the pounding hooves of buffalo as they thundered across the plain.  God said, ” Take only what you need; to take more is greed.”  I remember the warmth of the glistening sun as it shone through  the crystal clear atmosphere.  God said, ” This is my breath to warm your spirit.”  And I remember the stillness of the night; where the song of the far off stars would sing me a lullaby of peace.  Life was good and I remember.

In the stillness of the night, I saw an unnatural darkness come over the land.  God said, “These are the clouds of change; They have come to your land from the East. Fear not; as I will protect you through all your days but beware these new brothers are new to this world and they have not found their way to me.  You must teach them your ways or your world will perish.  This I say unto you.  You must be patient; they have not seen the many lives you have; it will be hard for them to accept your ways, the ways of the spirit.

A brightness filled the sky and on the horizon, a multitude of brothers came to the land of the Americas.  I remember watching them kill the buffalo and then take a prize and leave the rest to rot in the grass.  I remember the last thunder of hooves drown out by the sound of man’s thunder. I remember the cry of the buffalo as one by one they were struck down by the White man’s fire stick. I cried with the wounded buffalo. I knew I would never again hear the mighty sound of thundering hooves as these majestic creatures of God fell like mighty trees; never to rise again.  I said, “Why God?”  and the answer was, “You must be patient; these are the souls of your much younger brethren; be patient, my son.”

And so it was, the land was taken by those  who had not found the  true connection to God  and while they professed their concern for the many, they swore allegiance to the I. Themselves and their family.  Through the many years, I saw many births and an equil number of deaths as I tried to continue with my directive to show them the way.  I tried to live among them as  one of their own.  I tried to mend their sick as a doctor and I worked in their fields as a slave.  I was their mother, I was their daughter while always being me.  I shared my experience with them and slowly, ever so slowly, they began to grow.

I asked God, “Am I finished yet, my Father?  I am tired; can I come home?”   “Soon” was his answer.  I continued with my quest to show the unenlightened the way to the Father but for every one I could raise, more of the  juvenile mouth breathers would fill the void.  While I looked with pride at all the  souls who had followed me, I knew I was a part of them.  They were all my children and I lived in them.  I thought to myself, ” They are my children as I am my Father’s child. I will continue to live through them as he lives through me.”  Is this the true evolution?  To raise our own vibration, we have to raise up those below us.  We don’t grow by  climbing; we grow by building a higher platform below us.  I asked my Father, ” Am I coming home now? ” and he responded, ” You never left.”

I remember

DFS 2/27/16

Sharing the light

The following is a post I added to my FaceBook page Christmas morning: ( There is more to the story – see below)

Tonight, we went to the candle light service at our church. The service ends with the congregation singing Silent Night while holding lit candles. When it comes time to light the candles, the person on the end of the pew lights their candle from the stationary candle on the end of every other row and then lights the next person’s candle from theirs. I was on the end and when it came time to light my candle from the pew candle, I had to stretch up with my right arm, which is the one with the shoulder rotator cuff damage. A pain shot through my shoulder as I held the candle to the flame. I was reminded that it is often not without pain to reach for the light of wisdom but then sharing that light with others is very rewarding. May we all reach for the light and once obtained, may we share it with others unable to obtain it on their own. Merry Christmas every one.

The preceding was my original post and as Paul Harvey would say,  ” And now, page two.”

There are many church rituals that have special spiritual  meaning to “those who have eyes to see”.  This candle lighting is symbolic of the passing of light or spiritual energy from one to another. I mentioned that it was not without pain to reach up and take the light from the church candle and make it my own. It was  necessary for me to reach out. The flame did not miraculously jump over to me.  Jesus said, “Knock and the door will be opened” he did not say, stay there and I will come get you.” You must look for the light; be it within or from an outside source.  Spiritual awareness is not simply posted for you to see as you walk by; you have to be looking for this awareness.

In the service bulletin, there was a notation that each person down the line should take their candle and light it from the other person beside them. There is a caution not to tip the lighted candle. The assumption is that this is a safety measure so you don’t spill hot wax  from the hot candle but again, this is symbolic of the process that you too must reach for the light.

Spiritual law dictates that we help if asked; answer when asked and give the energy of spirit to others, when asked.  You can not pluck up a person and lift them into awareness. They have to climb with your help. Trying to save those who are not ready to be saved is “casting seed upon barren ground”.

Those who are closer to the Light must be available when asked but it is not their responsibility to  save the world. When the student is ready, the teacher will be there.  On a more personal level, you can not learn your children’s lessons for them.  Trying to do otherwise, is a great disservice to them.  We have all seen the warning signs at parks and wildlife spaces, “Do not feed the animals”  They must learn to survive and grow on their own.  If you were to help a developing caterpillar out of his cocoon before he was fully developed, you would most surely kill him.  While it is hard to watch loved ones  struggle, it is the most beneficial thing you can do. Encourage their struggles and then praise their accomplishments.  Only then will they grow.

This site is about the ramblings of an aging Mystic.