Lazy writer

Let me just start right off the bat by apologizing to Larry Olson.
Lars, you are the only one who chides me for taking long breaks in between blog postings. It’s as if it is 35 years ago, with you cracking the whip as city editor and yelling at deadline, “Give birth, give birth, this is a daily paper.”
I was always good on deadline. The problem is, I don’t have a deadline anymore. I can wander out to the garage to sand a table. If I get bored with that, I can go pull some leaves off the garden. Then I get distracted by a pulley I meant to polish up. Before you know it, I’m hopping in the Subaru to go to an auction.
Oops, missed another opportunity to write.
It was easier during the winter when there were no auctions to attend, no gardens to tend, no projects waiting in the garage. I could imagine deadlines then and do something about meeting them.
The truth is, I am a lover of deadlines. I liked nothing better than rushing back to the La Crosse Tribune after a Metallica concert, knowing I had only 17 minutes to write an 11-inch review. Those were the days!
It wouldn’t be the best writing I’d ever do, but it’s a sure bet it would draw a letter to the editor with someone expressing the fervent wish that I be fired for my stupid opinions.

In the days when we had a noon deadline for the afternoon paper, often I was working on features when deadline approached. Even then, the furious tension of getting those last items to paste-up would hold me in its grip, even though I had no daily copy.
Once, when one of my sources happened to stop in near deadline, I evidently snapped at him. He went back to his office and then called to tell me that I scared him as he’d never seen me act like that.
“It was deadline,” I explained as I apologized to him. “But wasn’t it exciting?”
“No,” he said. “It was just scary.”
It never scared me, but evidently it did give me high blood pressure. Hey, it’s hard to stay calm when the press room is calling upstairs for last pages and reporters are yelling, “Give me two more minutes!”
So Larry, I’m sorry for lagging behind. I’ll try to do better. But the garden calls me, the auctioneer calls me, and even a good book calls me. You’ll just have to call a little more loudly — “Give birth, give birth!”

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Thank you for this day

geriparlin

Here in Wisconsin, where winter sometimes has the nerve to stick around until May, we’ve been fortunate to experience a taste of spring throughout March.
Winter did, indeed, go out like a lamb. And the joke’s on you, winter, because April Fool’s Day was delightful, with a brisk wind left over from March and summer-like temperatures that danced up to the top of the 70s.
I want to remember this day and treasure this day because I know this kind of weather is all too rare around here.
I want to remember these fresh spring breezes when it’s 92 degrees with 88 percent humidity.
I want to remember these fresh spring breezes when winter winds howl and the furnace never stops chugging.
I want to remember these fresh spring breezes when tornadoes rip up trees and tear up the town.
But I probably won’t.
It’s human nature to whine, I…

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Thank you for this day

Here in Wisconsin, where winter sometimes has the nerve to stick around until May, we’ve been fortunate to experience a taste of spring throughout March.
Winter did, indeed, go out like a lamb. And the joke’s on you, winter, because April Fool’s Day was delightful, with a brisk wind left over from March and summer-like temperatures that danced up to the top of the 70s.
I want to remember this day and treasure this day because I know this kind of weather is all too rare around here.
I want to remember these fresh spring breezes when it’s 92 degrees with 88 percent humidity.
I want to remember these fresh spring breezes when winter winds howl and the furnace never stops chugging.
I want to remember these fresh spring breezes when tornadoes rip up trees and tear up the town.
But I probably won’t.
It’s human nature to whine, I think. And, here, in the North, we like to whine when it gets really cold because we know it doesn’t get that cold in Georgia. We like to remind people how hardy we northerners are.
And we like to whine when it gets really hot because we feel it shouldn’t get really hot in a place that gets really cold. So it is our God-given right to whine about the heat.
But for this one great day, no whining. I was granted blue skies, sunshine, fresh breezes and leaves blowing back in my face as I tried to rake them off the winter-bedraggled lawn.
Thank you, April, for giving me Spring.