I promised to follow up on my previous post, Keep This Check. I speculated on what the weather was like on January 13, 1931, and if Mrs. Clark herself ventured out to purchase underwear.

I found a shocking twist as revealed in my great-grandfather's journal (image below), as well as a photo of the store.

C. A. Smith & Son General Merchandise was built in 1910. By this fateful day, it had already been operating for over two decades. Mrs. Clark did not go shopping, and it wasn't the weather that kept her away. She was ailing. So the Mrs. Blogg or Blagg in my previous post must have made the purchase for her. 

The morning began with frigid temperatures. George Caitlin Berry reported at 8am it was 5 degrees below zero F. 

"I was up to see Mrs Clark this morning, she is in bad shape. Doc Fleeger says he don't think she will get over it. Ma is going up at 10:30 to see her. Bob Smith will take her up. Mrs. Frankie Clark died at 3:30 pm today. She was a good old friend of mine. She was 77 yrs - 7 mo - 3 days of age. She had many good traits and was very determined in her likes and dislikes." 

So a few of my questions are answered, but one remains. Why did Mrs. B purchase underwear and hose for Mrs. Clark while the woman was on her deathbed? I may never know, but it has been fun putting together the clues.

I am actively de-cluttering my home. Last weekend, I shredded my Blockbuster membership card. Afterward, I wondered if I had destroyed a treasure future generations would marvel over.

Okay, that's a bit ridiculous. However, I am marveling at this receipt dated 1/13/1931. I found it in an old chest my mother left to my brother. He asked me to clean it out, to save old family photos for what's becoming a massive archive.

Mrs. Clark purchased underwear and hose from C. A. Smith & Son, General Merchandise, in Willow Lakes, South Dakota. The cost was $1.58. On the back of the receipt is the admonition to "Keep This Check." 

Indeed, Mrs. Clark and her descendants kept that check, although the underwear and hose have long ago disintegrated and returned to the earth. I have a vague notion Mrs. Clark was a relative or at least neighbor to my mother's family.

Great-great grandfather Captain William Nelson Berry homesteaded in Willow Lake in 1882, but passed away in 1909. He was no longer alive to witness the momentous occasion of Mrs. Clark's underwear purchase, but my great-grandparents and grandparents were around. 

Did Mrs. Clark walk to the store? Ride in a horse drawn wagon? Or was she escorted in an automobile, still a bit of a novelty in semi-rural South Dakota in 1931. Was Mrs. Blogg or Blagg a shop clerk? Or did she run an errand for Mrs. Clark? Was Mrs. Clark actually there? Which neighbors might she have encountered? Was the January weather intense? Or had she taken advantage of a mild day to obtain the critical items?

When I have the time, I may be able to find a photo of C. A. Smith & Son's establishment. Who knows, maybe Mrs. Blogg/Blagg and Mrs. Clark are depicted in the Clark County history book. My great-grandfather's journal might have clues to the happenings of the day. Or at least the weather report, which he recorded with regularity every single day.

I have to be careful not to become too caught up in the past, although teasing out the story fascinates me. It's the mystery author in me, I suppose. I may eventually create a "murder board" style research tool to put together the crumbs of history to complete this day in 1931. 

A resolution needs to be backed up with a plan. For example:

Resolution: I resolve to drink more water. Vague. No tangible measurement of success.

Plan: I have a beverage container of known volume. I will drink four of those full of water a day to equal my 8x8 - eight glasses of eight ounces. Solid. Success can easily be measured.

Resolution: I will get back into a regular writing routine. What is "regular"? How is that measured?

Plan: My calendar lists projects and deadlines. Some have detailed goals of how many words must be completed by which date. Success is defined. Goals can be quantified. Work time is recorded.

When you have contracts and deadlines, it's easy to measure writing success. With other fiction projects, your goals may be more difficult to define. It's helpful to set word or page goals - how many a week. Or completion goals - rough draft of a short story by the end of February. 

Sometimes things happen that are out of our control. That is where a plan makes itself useful. If you are bumped off track by life events, you can consult your plan when things settle back to normal. Or some version of normal.

We're nearly halfway through January. Resolutions may be falling by the wayside as I speak. But plans endure. Stick to it, and you'll make progress toward your 2023 goals.

The ending of 2022 felt like saying goodbye to a bad houseguest. I just wanted it to be gone.

Good things happened in 2022. But they were weighed down by the burdens of stress and sadness.

Some events in our lives are beyond our control. Certain responsibilities are unavoidable. Others we take on (okay, speaking for myself) because somebody has to take care of the task, and no one else is stepping up.

In 2023, I pledge to take care of myself before tackling all those have-to-dos that really don't have to be done.

My resolution? Me First.

The year has been stressful as my mother's health declined. The end of October, she passed away. 

She would be happy to know her children have grown closer as we came together to honor her life. We're being faithful stewards of all that massive family history archive she left behind. 

Eighty-nine years seems like a long life. Even so, Mom left many things undone. Like finishing her dozen or so cross-stitch and crochet projects, completing the many to-be-read novels on her lamp stand, or labeling the rest of the old family photos.

​This is what I had to say about Mom at her memorial service:
Ten Life Lessons from My Mother

1. Be tight with a dollar, but generous to those in need.
2. Stick up for the underdog.
3. We’re all God’s children – don’t think you station in life makes you better than anyone else.
4. Never suffer a fool.
5. The public library is your friend. One of the first things Mom did when we moved to a new town was take us to get library cards. She always had a stack of borrowed books in various states of completion. Her favorite authors were Kathleen O'Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear, Janet Evanovich, Dorothy Gilman, just about any spy novel, and books with a little spice.
6. Life is too short for broccoli.
7. If someone tells you the meaning of life, and it doesn’t involve embroidery floss, yarn, or a crochet hook, they’re probably lying.
8. Coffee was Mom’s favorite beverage. She liked it strong and black. She would appreciate this quote by Henry Rollins – “What goes best with a cup of coffee? Another cup.”
9. Family is the most important thing, but like all good things, enjoy in moderation.
10. The final lesson requires a bit of setup.

Lesson Ten:
I didn’t understand when Mom moved to Colorado in 2014 how delicate her health was, and she didn’t tell me. Relatively spry for her age, Mom managed for several years in an independent senior apartment. Then her lungs and heart gave her increasing trouble.

Mom almost died in March 2020. My siblings recall the tearful phone call as I advised them she was not going to survive. The chaplain sat with me, and the health professionals explained the process to “pull the plug.” My daughter and I left the hospital that night, convinced Mom would not make it to the next dawn.

When we returned in the morning, Mom sat at a table eating her breakfast. She looked up, saw us, and said, “What?” We expressed our amazement. Mom explained she saw us crying, and didn’t want to leave, seeing how sad we were.

Mom dodged death a couple more times. When her great granddaughter heard us talking about Mom being on death’s doorstep, she said, “It’s a good thing Grandma Jane got tired and laid down to take a nap, so she didn’t go through the door.”

My number ten life lesson from Mom is, “If you find yourself on death’s doorstep, ring the doorbell and run away giggling.”

Typically by this time in August, Colorado has turned crispy brown. Due to a return of our monsoon season, we're still enjoying green meadows and wildflowers. 

I don't miss the continual wildfire smoke of the last few summers. Much of our smoke blew in from other states. But for several horrible years, large swaths of Colorado forest burned, making the air unhealthy. Although wildfire smoke does make for spectacular sunsets.

A benefit of a green summer with no smoky skies is that I can sit outside to write. I have spent a lot of time on our deck. I've watched cucumbers grow. Seriously. The skinny little cylinders expand and grow quickly. 

​The days are growing shorter, and the evenings cooler. This year, I can say I have made the most of my summer.

Gardening mirrors my writing life this summer. The seeds of inspiration sprout. A late cold snap combined with heavy snow nearly ends the project. The story recovers, and grows slowly, until the flowers appear. After visits from bees, fruits sprout in various shapes and colors. Soon it's time to harvest and process all that has grown.

I'm working on several stories at once. Like the garden, they all seem destined to bear fruit at the same time. I'm scrambling to make sure no fruit rots on the vine.

So many people are on the trails walking, running, and biking in the summer weather, the City put up traffic signs. This one is particularly amusing, because we did see a turtle a few weeks ago. 

​I have also started painting rocks and leaving them on the trails after a long break. I found the strawberry, and left the lizard.

I've been re-reading old favorites. Wait, that's not quite correct. I've been listening to audio books of classic fiction. Most recently I listened to Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. I'm moving on to Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

One fun element of re-reading novels is gauging your own changed reaction to the characters and plot. I have a more developed understanding of the historical and cultural background than I did during my first encounter with these stories.

Another is the enjoyment of the way in which language was used over a century and a half ago. I love the contemporary cozy mystery, which uses modern vocabulary and syntax. Reading classics stretches my skills, reminding me that language can be elegant as well as practical.

I am happy to report that novels read for high school or college assignments are much more fun to read for the purpose for which they were written - entertainment. No note-taking, no reports or papers. Just pure pleasure.

Other recent visits with old friends were Charles Dickens - A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations, and Jane Austen Sense and Sensibility.

It's rock painting season. I'm seeing more cleverly painted rocks on the trails. I've been leaving my own creations to contribute to the fun. 

Seen on the trail - happy face and strawberry.
Left on the trail - lizard and ladybug.