For the sport of it.

I went to a basketball game to look for some new blog material (that’s the excuse I’m using, but I really like basketball especially when I know all the players...and 2 of them were my mine). It was a “home” game ---everyone playing was from Wishek. So...Wishek won. At one point or another I had seen all the kids play when they were in their prime. Needless to say they’ve been out of their prime for sometime now. Oh, one of the Wald boys had a terrific play, under, around, through and over, you know the kind of play I’m talking about. But mostly it was just good clean fun. I heard lots of cheers yelling “ go daddy” and I saw a few hugs too.

But the real competition was in my livingroom a few hours before the game. Paige, Kellan and Dylan (Chad’s kids) had a sit-up and push-up competition, now that was a real nail bitter. Dylan, you could say, was the big winner with 210 sit-ups and 70 push-ups. Paige started out the game with 100 sit-ups. I did notice that it made a big difference who went first. And Dylan was the sport who just tied Kellan with 210 sit-ups rather than do 211 like I think he could have done. The boys are in Kindergarten and Paige is in 2nd grade. I’m not kidding, that was the real score. I don’t think there was any basketball player (dad Chad or even Uncle Mitch) who could do 210 sit-ups.

Kya in the picture still thinks her Dad is #1, wether he did any sit-ups, scored 10 points, or wore pink socks.

Do you take this woman...

I grew up Debby Jane Hansen. I had 2 friends, Jane Louise Benson and Mary Louise Buck. It was funny the ties that our names gave us.

Then came the day shortly before I was to be married. Mom told me the name on my wedding license had to be something different. Not the Hansen I was used to, but Burke. Oh my friends & I could have had 1 more link - Burke, Benson, Buck.

I was so linked to my Norwegian heritage - lefse, krumkaka, sundbakkles...What is my real heritage? What baked goodies tie me to “Burke”?

That’s a journey I have struggled with for years. Who am I? No, who am "I" really? If not the very American, modern Norwegian, Lutheran I thought I was. How about the Irish, Catholic, beer drinker I could have been? Or maybe I was. Was I both? I like both lefse and beer, but not at the same time. I have pondered this many times when asked my name. Even now when I think of my friends. What would it be, Deb Brandner, Jayne Benson, Mary Geatz?

Are we how we make ourselves, or we more who we were? (Let me try that again —Are we who we have become or are we whom we were?)

How does a name affect our personalities, our character, our being?

Are Norwegians dumb? Are Germans really stubborn? Oh... I need a beer!

I'm So Mad

I’m madder than hell and I’m not going to take it any more. Like, why me? What can I do about it?
Tonight I was putting on my pj’s and thick crocheted slippers and there they were —toe hairs! Dammit who gets hair on there toes? I used to have a little fuzz –maybe. Now it’s long hairs. What do I do? I know there are shavers for men’s beards, —shavers for ladies legs and pits. But, where do I get a shaver for those toe hairs? Are my hormones so crazy and out of balance that I deserve more then the few hairs that pop out of my chin? How can I ever wear sandals again or go barefoot on the shores of the local lake. Will my old man get a whisker rub when I try and play footsy under the table with him?
Where’s the etiquette lady or Ann Landers when I need them? Which self-help book is gonna help me with my toe hairs? —good grief (I’m so mad).

Deer Hunting

Today is opening deer season. That reminds me of an opening deer season a couple years back. I had retired a few years before that and I had decided to send myself to camp. I had sent the kids to camp a ton of times but I hadn’t gone myself. So after hearing about a Women in the Outdoors camp.....I signed up! It was great fun. I learned all about shot guns, and rifles, duck hunting and deer hunting. Well after I was home a bit I sent off for a deer license. Ronnie sent off for one too. AND we both got licenses. It was going to be great. Then the opening day came. Ronnie and I dressed up in our cutest orange stuff. It was freezing out side. We had coveralls on. Orange stocking hats on. And Orange gloves (and orange vests). It was great. Me and my old man....bonding just like he had done with the kids tons of times. I had heard of the walking, the tracking of the big game, the single shot that took down the large beautiful trophy animal. But, this day would be different. My old man and I had taken off early that day, to try and find some deer walking the cow path threw the CRP acres. After what seemed like hours into a brisk walk I was breathing heavy (so was the old man). The new plan was to sit up on top of a rock pile and use our fancy binoculars to scope out any far away moving deer. Off to the top of the rock pile I trotted... low and behold on top of the rock pile was a BUS SEAT! What the heck was a bus seat doing on top of the rock pile? I took out my hidden binoculars to see what the old man was doing with his bus sear on his rock pile. All I could see was Ronnie sitting and shivering on his pile of cold hard rocks. ----I was thinking before I saw him "wasn’t it nice that the deer hunters from the year before left their bus seats for us to use" !! I’m not hunting this year, but it sure brings back some funny memories.