The Joys of Small Town Living

You have heard them before: less crime, less traffic, less pollution. These are some of the parts of small towns that many enjoy. Oh, yes, we gave up terrific theater, multiple restaurants, extensive shopping, etc. when we retired to the rural area. There are pluses and minuses to both the life of congestion and the one of open spaces. As for me, I am contented that I experienced both types in my lifetime.

In retirement, I am pleased that I am living with fewer people, in a quieter venue. Now, instead of the previously mentioned enticements of the small town, I am suggestion a few that may not have entered your consciousness:

What about the ease of locating your car in the parking lot of the grocery store? You don't have to remember the number of the row in which you parked and wander around for 15 minutes trying to locate your car.

If push comes to shove, all necessary shopping is within walking distance. Even the medical facilities are within a short taxi ride or a hitch with a neighbor or friend.

Each stop for shopping, post office, city hall, court house or city pool is a social event. I can count on one hand the times that I did not run into someone and had a pleasant visit. The most heated and lengthy discussions usually occur in the Plunge pool, steam room or sauna.

Cars often stop for you when you are trying to cross the street, and not just at the corner required stops.

There is only one stop light in the downtown.

The nights are quiet, with the exception of the fourth of July weeks, but most of us are happy to be immersed in the peacefulness after a full day of conversations with most folks we know, and at times, some we don't.

Neighbors know one another and watch out for each other. Doors are seldom locked because many eyes keep a watch on nearby houses. (Just don't forget to tell the neighbor when a friend may stop over to use your oven while you are gone.)

It took me a few years to adjust to the fact that meeting a deadline on the other end of town did not take 30 or more minutes. Even in Rapid City to our north I could make a doctor's appointment across town in ten minutes.

Forget a credit card or your phone on the counter? Not to worry. You will get a phone call very soon.

Where else do teenagers hold the door for you and wait for you to enter?

Six chickens are allowed in the back yard - a yard which becomes bug free and richly fertilized. Super enriched tasty eggs are shared with neighbors.

No matter the restaurant, you usually run into someone you know. Hugs are freely given.

As a taxpayer, your voice is heard (and at times heeded) at council and commission meetings.

As the old saying goes, "The best part of small town living is that everyone knows you. The worst part is that everyone knows you."

Each person must choose for him or herself...anonymity in a city, or familiarity in the small town.
Bob and I have chosen the first for our career years and the latter during retirement. We have had the best and the worst of each world. Works for us!

Final Roll Call

"Well, this is different", my husband said to the mortician as we walked into the American Legion.

We went to the wake of Richard Galeano which had been moved from the funeral home to the American Legion down the block. We entered a room filled with Native Americans, most from the Pine Ridge Reservation, many attendees in military uniform, flags, quilts and displays of photos, medals, three Native staffs representing three different tribes, and prominent at the front of the room lay Richard in his wooden casket.

The atmosphere, unlike the usual visitation, was less stilted and more relaxed. There was a certain solemnity, but also the casualness of friends and family at an annual reunion. The ceremony was led by Ben Good Buffalo, friend of Richard, with other friends and family members entering in with songs, chants and testimonies to the life of a father, husband, brother, veteran of the U.S. Air Force and long-time friend and teacher to many.

An extraordinary meal followed the service, with traditional fry bread among many other choices. All of this was unique to me, even though I had grown up in a world with three day wakes in the living room of the deceased, including conversation, food, laughter and tears, with an open casket in the living room for all to view. I now wonder how our culture lost the richness of a wake to be replaced by the formality of a visitation.

The most impressive moments for me were when Frank Marshall, veteran service officer for the tribe stood near the casket and called roll call to all of the military, most in uniform and standing in attention in a line at the side of the room. He announced each name in a loud voice, and in an equally strong voice each responded with "Yes, SIR". Finally he called out, "Richard Wendell Galeano." No answer. Again, "Richard Wendell  Galeano." No answer. A third time, "Richard Wendell Galeano."

Vincent Ten Fingers, a Vietnam veteran's strong voice replied, "Not here, SIR. He is with a higher command."

Rest in Peace

Richard Galeano died yesterday. He may not be widely known, but to us fighting the battle to save our VA in Hot Springs, he was an inspiration. He showed up early on in the struggle, bravely spoke up in front of friends and foes, and, once again, fought another battle as the faithful soldier he remained all his life.

Richard was among the six veterans that I interviewed for Reveille in Hot Springs: The Battle to Save our VA who have all fought their last battle and are now at peace. I will attend yet another funeral for another veteran who will always remain in my heart, and his testimony in the book will outlast me to enlighten others long into the future.

During his interview he shared his pride in his family's strong military heritage. He and two of his brothers were both in the Air Force during the sixties. Two of his sons served in the U.S. Marine Corps and his third son is in the U.S. Army and received a Bronze Star three times for his service in Iraq.

As his health deteriorated Richard would still appear at all of the meetings for Save our VA that he could possibly attend, accompanied by his oxygen tank. I would look for his wave of acknowledgment when he spotted me in the crowd.

What I will remember best about Richard was his attention to the needs of the Native Americans who used our VA, and his part in establishing the first sweat lodge at our VA to assist these Natives in their recovery.

Toward the end of his life Richard would still conduct some of the sweats at the VA when no one else was available. He had his own sweat lodge at his home in the country where he would welcome all who joined him in prayer.

The following is the last paragraph from his chapter in Reveille in Hot Springs:

You don't have to be a Native American to go through a sweat lodge ceremony. No matter what color, all participants are brother veterans. The Hot Springs VA has shown its uniqueness for all veterans by being the first VA facility to provide a sweat lodge, which helps in the healing of many veterans. The Inipi is located in a peaceful, secluded corner of the VA. Every Friday the smoke can be seen rising from the steam of the heated rocks, carrying the prayers and songs of veterans, with hope and possibilities for renewal and recovery.

Whenever I see smoke I will remember this veteran who recognized the importance of the sweat lodge in the healing of veterans. Long may the smoke rise at our VA!

Ring in Another Year!

Do you remember the old comic strip, "Calvin and Hobbes"?

Calvin expounded to Hobbes:

"I'm getting disillusioned with these new years. They don't seem very new at all! Each new year is just like the old year! Here another year has gone by and everything's still the same! There's still pollution and war and stupidity and greed! Things haven't changed! I say what kind of future is this? I thought things were supposed to improve! I thought the future was supposed to be better!"

Hobbes response:

"The problem with the future is that it keeps turning into the present."

Bill Watterson, the creator of this comic, got to the essence of things in a single strip. We may not have the genius of this cartoonist, but we can mull over his wisdom.

There will always be issues such as conflicts, greed, corruption, bribery. Those things will not change. What will change is our willingness to continue the fight to make the world a better place. Determination, fortitude, and an "I care" attitude do, and will continue to improve our world, piece by piece by piece, bit by bit. We may not see it, but this I believe, that we ourselves during this struggle to better our world, change ourselves. Each year we can become a stronger, wiser, more compassionate person. Some of this wisdom, filled with hope and love, may pass on to our children and those we touch during our passage through the many new years of our life.

Happy new year to all of you from this serene corner of the Black Hills of South Dakota!

Being Spoiled

What a switch! I recently wrote that at our age my husband and I do only token gift exchanging, having too many things to clutter our lives. Well, surprise, surprise. This year Bob requested that we not attend any holiday gatherings, but stay at home. (One exception was one guest included in our quiet holiday at home.)

After early morning skypeing with our children and grandchildren, Bob disappeared into the kitchen, creating a marvelous Christmas dinner. He allowed no admittance to me and managed to create a feast for kings. I did set the table and did the dishes after, but it was a special gift to be banished from the kitchen for the day.(I have never been overly fond of cooking, especially for guests and holidays.)

In addition to this pampering I opened a gift of a beautiful necklace set, fit for a queen, and was escorted to the back yard where Bob had been working all week, out of my view, on a CHICKEN COOP for our garden. We will get 3 or 4 chickens that will enrich our soil with fertilizer, devour all grasshoppers and annoying insects, mice and other unwelcome critters, but, best of all, furnish us and our neighbors with healthy eggs from free-roaming chickens.

Bob is going to purchase Icelandic chickens, hardy and suitable for this weather, as well as feisty fighters against predators. I also received a small incubator to hatch about 4 chickens. Bob remembered that during my teaching days I often hatched chickens in my classroom as part of a science project. It was the highlight of the science unit for the students and also, this very enthused teacher.

What fun! What a husband! What a Christmas to remember! It was my year to be indulged...something I never expected at this senior time of life.

During 2015 I will keep my readers in the "chicken loop" of my life. Keep tuned!

Changing Perspectives

As a child I looked at Christmas with anticipation. What would Santa bring? My help in decorating was minimal. Early on the tree was decorated during the Eve after we children were asleep and all presents appeared magically under that tree. The days before the holiday dragged on. A turtle could have whizzed by them.

As a young adult/teen I was focused on gifts for others....boys and other friends and my family, and what would I receive from them? Holiday parties were wrapped around what clothes would I wear, would I have a date? Time seemed to move at a quicker pace.

As an adult woman pre-holidays passed too quickly. There was work, gifts for co-workers, spouses, children and parents. Shopping and decorating took a chunk of precious time. During the sandwich years it was important to include parents in the festivities in one way or another. As my parents aged that involved lengthy drives to their home for the holidays.

Today, in my retirement years, the focus has shifted to the grandchildren. The search for the perfect gifts starts early. After all, isn't the job of a grandparent to spoil them? Parents are caught in those 'tween years"...work, children and their parents. Grandparents have shed the daily grind, have lost their own parents who once indulged them at Christmas, no longer want gifts from one another, having shed their appetite for things that may clutter their home and so, with the exception of token gifts for friends and one another, the urge for giving spot-lights mainly on those grandchildren.

Giving is a gift of love and caring for another. That never leaves, or, at least at this period in my life still tugs at my heart each time I see something that I think may give joy to another. When that certain item is spotted I tuck it away to be given or mailed to someone in my life for the appropriate occasion. At this stage of the game as parents and friends leave this world and my circle of gift-giving narrows, it is a joy to discover that special gift for the grandchildren, children and friends near and dear.

May all of you faithful readers find joy in giving during this holiday season and may you always have someone in your life that will feel special when they open that gift of love from you.

Back Porch, Front Porch

Meow, meow, meow. Skitty, the calico stray peers into our back door begging for food. Muddy, her black and white offspring, sits on the railing looking into our back window. First thing in the morning when I open the blinds, he sits looking in at me, wide-eyed with anticipation.

Bob and I have become accustomed to the sight, early morning and later in the day. When we drive home, both cats recognize the car and come running to our door, waiting for their handouts.

Last week I opened the front door to let in the warmth of the early sun into our front porch. Meow, meow. Front paws on the screen door was the neighbor's large white cat asking for attention. I opened the door and he trotted in, walked around a bit and sped back out. Every day since he is at the door. He is solid and must weigh 20 pounds. He is not needing food. We don't know what he expects, but whenever we exit the front door, he follows us around. We know he lives across the street but somehow he has the idea that we are his second home. Once in a while he shows up at our back door, much to our alley cat's dismay. Muddy's large eyes grow larger when he shows up, especially when he nibbles on his food. The nerve of that fat cat! He is a well-fed house cat, obviously pampered, and he is infringing on the alley cats' territory.

What can I say? I can pet him (which is fun since the alley cats will not allow the touch), but now, no matter which door I exit, there is a cat or two, looking up at me with that look of "poor me. Take pity and feed me."

We are surrounded. I hate to say this, but we have become the cat house of the neighborhood. Shhhhhh..........