Ice Fishing Magic

FROM WHERE I SIT Ice Fishing Magic Dec. 25, 2013  Pat DeKok Spilseth

Ice houses are beginning to appear on the frozen lakes in Minnetonka.  Are ice-fishing men escaping Christmas noise and confusion at home?  Are gals hoping to avoid piles of discarded gift wrappings and dirty dishes?  On Carman’s Bay, kids are skating on shoveled rinks at a neighbor’s home; dogs are running, pulling hard on the cross country skier braving the frigid temperatures, and snowmobilers are flying across the lake in front of our house.  

Tracks are messing with the smooth blanket of fresh snow.  In our yard and down the sidewalk are hundreds of rabbit tracks.  Buddy, our aging Beagle, gets so excited to sniff their tracks, sure he can find the bunnies.  His attention is diverted when he sniffs the scent of racoons under the deck of our house or sees squirrels flying up the trees.  Hope is eternal for our precocious hound who spends his time eating, sleeping or chasing fresh scents in our electronically-fenced yard.  WIthout the electric fence around the property, who knows where Buddy would run to catch rabbits, dogs and cats in the neighborhood.  He’s a full-bloodied hound, determined to catch something, some time!

Buddy got a Christmas present from Charlotte, the new dog in our neighborhood.  She and her mom wrapped several tasty bones in cellaphane and left them in our mailbox.  Immediately, Buddy knew the treat was for him.  Christmas morning he ate three bones in a matter of minutes.  When I asked if he wanted to share the treats, I got an angry snarl...they’re MINE, implied Buddy very strongly. 

Though Carmen’s Bay is nothing like Crappie Town, USA, of Glenwood fame back in the 50’s, we usually have about a half dozen ice house of various colors and styles on the lake in front of our house.  When I was a kid, “Life Magazine” came to Glenwood to photograph the colorful lake village of ice houses with metal street signs, dogs, skating kids and fishermen, then printed a special edition of the favorite magazine.   Lake MInnewaska in Glenwood has always attracted people who like to fish and enjoy spending days and even nights on the frozen water in their cozy houses.  They cook coffee and eat snacks while checking their red and white bobbers for nibbling fish.  I’ve heard that some folks play cards and even do a bit of gambling.

No ice boats have flown across Carmen’s Bay so far this winter.  There’s only a smidgen of time when the ice is smooth, uncluttered by snow drifts and icy ridges, for the fast boats to sail across the ice.  Their helmeted, high-speed riders fear few dangers as they careen across the frozen water.  One of our neighbors grew up on the lake so he always carries ice picks to stick in the ice, hoping to pull himself out of the water if he would break through the ice.  When Dick careens across the mirror of ice, unhalted by pressure ridges or burps of ice chunks, I’m sure he feels that he’s a rider to the sky.

Fishermen and women have a look of contentment.  Bundled in wool or flannel shirts, insulated underwear, down coats, boots, hats and glovers, they know their days of quiet solitude will stretch on for at least one more month.  Sitting in dark sheds on the ice waiting for “Wally the Walleye” is a relaxing experience.  The experience is open only to those who brave the frigid weather for a few hours of solitude on the frozen lake.  

Televisions, IPhones and radios would spoil this aura of contentment.  There’s a haunting magic surrounding ice fishing.  In today’s busy world with its complicated problems of health care, raising kids, paying bills, and aging, a candle-lit ice house is the perfect solace many seek.  It’s grand to just do nothing, just sit and stare into the icy water hole.  Ice fishing is satisfying in its simplicity...as long as the propane stove keeps the coffee warm and pumps out heat to thaw freezing fingers and toes.  690 words

JOY TO THE WORLD!

FROM WHERE I SIT  JOY TO THE WORLD! 12/16/13 Pat DeKok Spilseth

When Christmas arrives and the radio is playing carols, many of us recall the words we memorized as little kids practicing for school and church programs.  Guests will be arriving at our house for the holidays, so I’m practicing the songs that Miss Rahn taught me to play many years ago.  We’ll eat too much, remember past holiday joys and sing carols around the piano.  However, now I sit on the piano missing sharps and flats of songs I used to play perfectly.  Though my playing technique has suffered, I remember most of the words to “Joy To the World, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, Angels from the Realms of Glory, and Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”    

Inside the piano bench, I found little paper song books that Mom had saved years ago.  Familiar carols are printed in the songbook; some of the pamphlets have the Christmas story from Luke 2:1-20.  One booklet, a customer’s gift from the Pope County State Bank of Glenwood and Villard, has colorful Victorian illustrations of Charles Dickens’ tale, “A Christmas Carol”.   Scrooge has a sharply defined jaw with glaring eyes; Tiny Tim is perched on his father’s shoulders waving his crutch.  The booklet prints the tale of Marley’s Ghost, the Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.  

Brownie’s Service gave customers a booklet of Season’s Greetings with a cover picture of a choir of young boys with large bow ties on their red and white robes.  Printed inside are the words and music of favorite English songs like “Good King Wenceslas, The Wassail Song and God Rest You Merry Gentlemen.”

Forbord Oil Company gave a songbook of 17 carols.  Printed on the back cover is Luke’s Christmas story.   Esther, my Mom, also saved a pamphlet from the Bank of Willmar, which has the words to “Home Sweet Home” and its refrain ending with “There’s no place like home!”  Isn’t that phrase so true?   In this season of merriment, many return to homes they grew up in to be with loved ones.  For lucky folks, family is still living at the old home place.  On the back page are the music and words to “The Star-Spangled Banner”.   The figures and scenes, illustrated by Christopher Wray, have nativity scenes, candles lit on Christmas trees, fireplaces burning, and horses pulling sleighs filled with happy folks.  Good feelings come through the illustrations and messages, just like Norman Rockwell’s paintings and magazine covers.

In Glenwood, my home town, everybody knew everyone in the fifties and sixties.  It was a holiday tradition for businesses to reward their customers with a small gift of appreciation.  I remember that we received calendars, can openers, pencils, wooden rulers, paring knives and letter openers.  The name of the business was printed on the gift, a good advertising tool used by business owners to tell their customers they appreciated their business.  In a small town, it’s tough to own a business if townspeople drive to larger towns to buy from big box stores, where few clerks know the names of their customers or even care if we shop there.

In Glenwood, the clerks would call me Patty when I’d go into Harry’s & Myrtle’s Corner Grocery Store and tell them “Please put it on our charge”.  Marie knew me at Bob’s meat market and at Potters’ Dime Store Dolly, the energetic, smiley clerk, knew I favored the penny candy shelves and maple nut goodies.   At Wimpy’s, where Dad ate breakfast with the guys, Doris and Erv staffed the counter, and at Dick’s Recreation Hall, the guys playing pool in the back room knew my name.  After all, several had celebrated Christmas at the jail with my family around the Christmas tree.  

Treasures like these little songbooks reflect a kinder, gentler time of life.  Life wasn’t so rushed and simple tokens of appreciation were valued.  Silent nights and the full moon over the frozen lake slow me down, letting me enjoy reading Christmas cards, the lights on the tree and anticipate my family coming home for the holidays.  

Merry Christmas to you and your families!  707 words