No More Freezing

This is the new look.

For those of you who aren't on Facebook, you haven't seen my latest look. I was feeling like changing things up, since I've lost quite a bit of weight since last October but I'm not yet at the point where I want to go out and buy clothes that fit. So I decided to shave off my beard, honing my visage down to mustache and soul patch. I like it; it makes me look about five years younger and finally, after over 10 years, I can again see my chin.

This last week was really special: Spring truly arrived and so did my good friend, Jessie.

Jessie arrived on Tuesday afternoon. Knowing my love of refrigerator magnets, she brought one from Elvis' birthplace (one of her stops before me). We went out to Piggy's for dinner and spent the evening just sitting around and catching up while it rained and thundered outside.

Jessie gave me an Elvis magnet.

Wednesday was The Center's volunteer appreciation dinner, held at the Breakfast Club & Pub downtown. It's a restaurant that serves breakfast all day, and the dinner consisted of waffles, hush puppies, bacon and sausage, scrambled eggs and a scrambled egg casserole, all of them very tasty. And we mustn't forget the full bar (which was no host).

It was a good chance for her to meet the folks I work with at The Center. We had about 35 people in attendance, and it was impressive to see how many volunteers we have helping out.

There was a Center Trivia game with 28 questions. It was too long and some of the questions weren't really thought out, so it took up a major portion of the evening (which was only 6 to 8).

Gay humor is so wonderful!

I played the quiz but we didn't hang around for the prizes (the person with the most right answers got a prize, then everyone else got a raffle ticket for each answer they got right; we took off while they were figuring out the distribution of the tickets). When we left, I forgot my umbrella behind (it had been raining).

Things have been hopping at The Center, as the remodel has started on the huge space into which we are going to be expanding. The mice that have been living in the previously empty space have started migrating, what with all the hubbub in their previous home.

We've seen many mice crawling around in the rooms we now inhabit, and while they're being mitigated, there's been a running dialogue on our volunteer group, a chunk of which I've included here to demonstrate the joys of gay humor.

Golden eagle Donald

Thursday, Jessie and I made the River Run, which consists of heading north along the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi, stopping at Nelson (population about 400) which has a fabulous cheese and wine shop and really good sandwiches. We each had a "Town of Nelson" sandwich and picked up some delightful smoked Gouda and the most repulsive cheese I've ever tasted, labeled "German Brick Cheese." I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it.

Bald eagle Angel

We crossed over the river to Wabasha on the Minnesota side and stopped at the Eagle Center. We were the only two people, so we had the place to ourselves and the docents and volunteers were very attentive and informative.

On the way out, I broke down and purchased a stuffed bald eagle (not a real one but a plush toy). Now Rocky Raccoon has a buddy with whom to hang out on the couch.

Rocky Raccoon has a
new feathery friend.

Driving south on the Minnesota side of the river, we stopped off at Lark Toys, a jewel that sits just outside the town of Kellogg (nothing to do with the cereals, that I know of). They have a toy store that goes on forever and case after case displaying collections of old toys, troll dolls, nesting dolls and just about anything nostalgic you can think of from your childhood.

There's also an indoor hand-carved carrousel, a candy shop and a fudge shop, where I am required to purchase the best fudge I've ever eaten. They have a boggling selection of flavors: mocha, peanut butter, Dreamsicle, cotton candy, Nut roll (tastes like a PayDay bar), Shrek fudge (neon green, caramel apple flavor with a gummy worm sticking out) and many more.

We were also nearly the only people there, so wandering around was not as daunting as when it's crowded with people. And their prices are great. I locked in on their selection of rubber duckies.

As close as I could get to rainbow duckies.

They didn't have just a regular rubber duckie, but a baffling assortment of themed duckies (policeman, cowboy, etc.) and some wild designs and colors that drew me in. At these prices, I bought three multicolored polkadot duckies that now grace the bathroom sink upstairs.

We arrived back in La Crosse in front of the storm clouds, ordered in some Chinese food and again just lounged and gabbed while it rained outside.

Lark Toys has llamas, too!

We stayed up late, and woke up late on Friday. I don't know if it was the walking on Thursday or the humid weather, but my hip was nearly immobile when I got up. I put myself onto the heating pad and nursed it, but by the time 5 o'clock rolled around, when Steve and Pam arrived from Ettrick, I was still not feeling like heading out for any extensive standing or walking.

Our original plan had been to head down to the Farmers' Market in Cameron Park. It was opening weekend, so Steve pointed out that there hadn't been much time for anyone to grow anything. It was doubtful if there was anything there to purchase and cook up.

The only vegetables at Farmers' Market! ©Pete Solberg

So Steve and Pam went out and picked up a pizza, we cooked and ate it and then spent some time sitting out back, enjoying the finally pleasant weather and our assortment of fudge purchased the day before. With the sun going down, I suggested that they take Jessie out to show her Riverside Park and the International Gardens nearby.

The trouble was, only two people could fit in their car, so Steve and I stayed behind and talked while Pam and Jessie went on a very short sightseeing jaunt (after all, the sun was going down fast). I think the two really liked each other, or at least they're both very polite.

Pam and Steve left around 9, and Jessie went to bed not long after, as she was leaving the next morning. She was planning on driving north, eventually reaching Toronto. She left just before 10 a.m. on Saturday, and I've been eating leftover Chinese and pizza ever since.

On Thursday, when we returned from the River Run, I took the folding chairs out from the garage and set them up outside. On Friday, she asked if we had to take them back in and I replied only if it's going to snow.

This is something like what I'd like to put on the back of the house.

Ever since winter finally departed, I've been thinking about putting a four-season sunroom on the back of the house. During the warm weather, it would function as a screened porch, and in the winter, it would be a place in the house to get some sun and not feel quite so closed in: anyone who's ever had cabin fever will understand.

One of the primary motivators for the contemplated construction, though, is the inclusion of a hot tub. I'm thinking that daily hydrotherapy would really help with my slowly advancing creaky-joint syndrome. And I've always wanted a hot tub all my own. You won't have to go naked in it, but I'm going to.

So I was playing around online and found some images of sunrooms and came up with this rough estimation of what I'm talking about, which is included here in these pictures. I'll have to take a small mortgage out on the house to make this happen, but the house really needs a porch area and, in winter, a mudroom for entering and exiting the house.

Right now, the back porch kind of serves a mudroom function, but it's not heated and most of the space is taken up with the snow shovel and salt bags for when you have to melt your way out to the garage!

Well, we'll see how it goes. Right now, I turn my attention to getting the lawn back is decent shape. The weeds are taking over already. Time to call Nick of Nick's Lawn Care, my go-to guy for everything exterior.

Until then, I'm just enjoying the open windows and fresh air that spring brings. I know a lot of my California friends think I'm nuts to move someplace with seasons, but warm weather is ten times sweeter when you've gone through the cold and beauty of winter.

Nightmare Before Springtime

What's this? What's this?

Steve came into town for lunch today. He was attending a speech on religion and politics at UW, "Just to get out of the house," he said. He came by afterwards, around 1:15, and almost the moment he arrived, snow started falling.

This storm was forecast, but it wasn't certain whether it would be snow, rain or a mix of the two. The air temperature is well above 32º, so the snow is wet, though the flakes are small. So it started falling, we went out to lunch, and by the time we finished, the car was covered in snow.

Spring came a month ago; where's my back yard?

The roads were slushy (no plows out yet), and Steve dropped me off at home and headed out to pick up Pam at Western and drive back to Ettrick. The snow should be ending by 9 this evening, and tomorrow it's supposed to be in the 40s, so the snow should be gone by the end of the week when highs are forecast in the upper 50s and lower 60s.

This is the third snowstorm we've gotten in April. At lunch, Steve said he didn't remember a time in the past when there were three in April.

The standard shot of the German Lutheran church

One of the things cold weather has done is exacerbate my hip, which has been sore for the past week or so. I think I'm developing arthritis in the right hip joint, but moving around and being active seems to work it out. Still I think warmer weather will help mitigate.

But I follow Steve's advice on the end of winter: Spring's not here until the nighttime lows are always above freezing. Also, watch the old trees, as they don't bud until they know winter is finally over. And they haven't really started budding yet.

This afternoon I would have normally gone in to the Center to man the desk, but not today. And we were supposed to have the volunteer appreciation dinner this evening, but that has been postponed until May. Everyone shares the sentiment of being sick of snow.

Cheese shop in Nelson

I'm sure roads will be passable tomorrow, when we have a fundraiser for the Center at Fiesta Mexicana, one of the better Mexican restaurants in town. They kick back 10% of their take from folks who mention the Center when ordering. Seems like a good way to pack the place on a slushy Wednesday evening.

"The White Crow" reading went very well, with nearly 100 people attending. The performance went  really well, and the post-show discussion was insightful and compelling as the show itself. We performed, unfortunately, on the same day as the local community theater's annual gala, so many folks I was hoping would attend were rubbing elbows at the Webster Center instead.

The eagle center

Since October, I've been adjusting my eating habits, since the doctor labeled me as "pre-diabetic," which to me means "you're eating a crap diet and not getting enough exercise." So I've been cutting out sugar and refined carbs as I can.

Jessie at Robin's

The upside of this "new" diet is I've lost four inches off my waist (I haven't been weighing myself, as how I'm feeling is more important than the actual number of pounds dropped), and, aside from my hip, I'm feeling more energy and have a more positive outlook.

Still, like Steve, this late winter weather is getting me down. I'm getting tired of being shut in the house when my expectations were to be outside in warmer weather. In Alaska, we called it cabin fever. And even though I live in town and my street is one of the first to be cleared when snow falls, I still want to see some sun and warmer temperatures. Even several days of rain would be preferable to this.

Vintage robots at Lake Toys

But I am looking forward and staying positive. One of the things happening in May is the arrival of my friend, Jessie. She's lives in North Carolina and is taking a road trip. I'm very honored to be one of her stops. I'm just hoping there will be a couple days of good weather for her visit.

Vintage Toy kitchens

I'm planning on taking her on the "River Circuit," which is north on the Wisconsin side of the river to Nelson (and the cheese shop there), then across the river to the Wabasha Eagle Center, down the Minnesota side with a stop at Lake Toys (gotta get fudge), then back to La Crosse.

Right about now I was expecting to be talking to my yard guy about getting the lawn back in shape for spring. Instead, I'm writing him out another check for snow removal. (I leave it on the back porch for him so he'll get paid even if I'm not around.)

For now, I'm waiting for my tax refund to show up, and I'm mulling over what I'm going to do with it. I do know that I need to put a new roof on the garage, as the shingles on there are peeling off with any kind of weather. I find chunks on the ground in the back yard when it's not covered with snow. Nick, my yard guy, also does roofing, so I'm going to get a quote from him before I start calling roofing companies. I mean, it's only the garage, after all.

April Blizzards Bring May Wizards?

The snow was almost gone…

For the last week or so, I was sure that global warming had won out and winter was completely over.
Just about the time I was going to contact Nick, my snow/lawn guy, to look into getting the lawn fed and seeded now that spring was here, the weatherman on TV said more snow coming our way.

Shit.

…and then it started up again.

Well, it wasn't really a blizzard, but it was a good seven inches of snow. It started late Monday evening and lasted into Tuesday afternoon. By sundown, everything was white once again and things were cold. I headed to bed and, like some nights, I had trouble getting to sleep until late.

Around 4:45 Wednesday morning there was lots of grinding and scraping outside my bedroom window. Nick had shown up early to do the plowing. He's got a big ol' snow plow on the front of his truck and the biggest snow shovel I've ever seen and a very loud, gas-powered snow blower. I'm sure the neighbors loved it.

Dan Schneider

Nick has a full-time job and does the maintenance work on his own time, so I would rather have him show up before heading off to work than arriving after work, leaving me stranded all day. Sure, I can get in and out of the garage through piles of snow, but control and accuracy suffer. I also had a couple people coming over later in the day, and giving them a clear driveway in which to park was a nice touch.

Diane Breese

At noon, Dan Schneider (who is reading the part of Adolph Eichmann) and Diane Breeser (reading his interrogator) came by the house for the final rehearsal before this week's reading on Saturday. I think we have things lined up nicely.

Diane had a mock-up of the play bill, and we ran over entrances and exits (about as far as blocking goes in a reading). Via e-mail, we have finally located someone to lead the post-play discussion. I started by contacting the rabbi at the local synagogue. From there we went through about a half dozen people who were interested in it but, for one reason or another, weren't able to do it.

Yours truly

Even for a reading, there are things that have to be coordinated, so I arranged for someone else to lead the semimonthly adult group at the Center. That way, I have all afternoon to coordinate with the folks at the Unitarian church next door, where we're having the reading.

This post card is over 100 years old.

One of the reasons I bought this house for my home was because it was plopped in the middle of a very holy neighborhood. We've got the Unitarian Universalists next door, the catholic high school across the street, The Evangelical Lutherans catty-cornered to the south (with a catholic church down the block) and the Presbyterians just north across Cass Street.

The Evangelical Lutheran church has its original bells, and they clang on Sundays at 8 and 10:15 a.m., as well as other days at 2 and 5:30 p.m. It gives the neighborhood an urbane quality I wasn't suspecting in La Crosse.

This is what I see from my back yard.

One of the other reasons I chose this place was the beautiful old homes that make up this area of town. The timber barons of the area built their mansions on Cass Street in the late 1800s-early 1900s. A stroll down the street and around the park reveals some of the loveliest midwestern architecture I've seen. I will have to make a photo-pilgrimage and snap some shots of them when all the green returns.

When I went into the Center this afternoon to do my 4-8 p.m. shift, things were just hopping. We had three walk-ins (unheard of; we normally get 0-0.2 people on average in the evenings). There were also a couple of new volunteers ready for their orientation session.

And the back yard with fat snowflakes falling.

Deb was there for the new recruits, and Aleisha, our director of outreach, was there with her teen-aged daughter. I wisely retreated to the lounge and puttered on the computer, nodding off several times because that's what old farts do when they're bored.

Andrew (the wonderful young fellow who's revamping the Center's computer network) was there helping to train a new volunteer (we're up to 30!) whose name I've already forgotten. Since they had the desk covered quite effectively, I took off about 15 minutes early and came home.

Tomorrow, honest to God, I've got to do some laundry. It's very deceptive having a laundry chute on each floor. Dirty towel: toss it in the chute. Dirty clothes: toss 'em in the chute. One day I open up the closet and there's no more pants; open the underwear drawer to find it empty. And when one wanders into the laundry room in the basement, there is a small mount of fetid fiber and tainted textiles.

Where the hell did that come from? I just did laundry four day a-… no, a week a-…no two weeks ago. Hm. Maybe three. No wonder all the underwear's dirty! So I plan a day of puttering around the house between calls to the basement to fill-empty-fill-empty the washer and dryer. Four, five, six loads.

The biggest effort of the chore is shlepping all the cleaned clothes up two flights of stairs to return everything to the closet and dresser. If they could plan an easy way to get the grimy garments to the laundry room, why didn't they rig up something to take the fresh laundry back up to the second floor?

I want my flying car. I want my robot maid. I want my monorail. I was promised these things as a child, proffered to us all by Mr. Disney and his Land. Okay, forget the car. And the monorail. They don't do laundry. But robot maid, that's something to reach for!

I Know Why We Clean in Spring

That little lump of snow just won't melt.

Things are still on the cold side; 30º and 40º highs (one or two days hit 50º), below freezing most nights. And while the furnace has been working less often lately, and while going outside does not require "suiting up" to battle the cold, still I want the warmth to get here.

I want constantly open windows (as does the cat so she can sit in the sill). I want fresh air blowing through the house. I want green on the trees and a resurrection of the grass in the yard. I want to sit outside in my shorts and enjoy the sun. And even rain: I want precipitation that doesn't make the world icy and slick.

The evergreens keep this sheet of ice intact.
Lower left is the remnants of the huge snow pile mentioned.

The snow is gone. Only a few spots existing in constant shade are still frozen (like the back yard). And that big pile of plowed snow, waist high and as long as a car, is almost gone from the driveway. Finally, there's no need to put a coat on to take the trash out. But still, we may get some snow on Saturday, although it will melt in a day.

The real arbiters of coming warmth are the trees, especially the old ones. They seem to know that things aren't over just yet. When they begin to bud, we'll know that winter is gone. Still, I remember driving into town when I moved here (an April 21st), and snow was falling, skittering across the highway. It didn't stick, but it was a prophetic welcome. After all, one of the reasons I moved here was to have seasons.

The warmer temps (such as they are) seem to have stirred me, like a bear from hibernation, and I've got things going on in my life. The first one is volunteering at the Center. We had our big fundraising event last Thursday, a 12-hour Facebook live stream, where we raised more than $11,000.

From left: Eddie, Stacey (aka Dawson) and Deb play Gay Jeopardy!

The night before the event, I was staffing the desk at the Center while all the preparations were taking place. Someone mentioned having questions for a gay version of Jeopardy!, and since I'm a fan of the show (and a designer), I offered to take the clues and make up Jeopardy!-type cards for the game.

So I sat down with my laptop and read through the questions that had been written.

Eddie and I discuss the origin drag queens.

Questions? They're supposed to be answers; this is Jeopardy!, after all. Looking them over, I realized some of them were way too long to get on a card. Also, we needed six categories (one for each color in the rainbow flag) and there were only five, and the fifth category was a clue short. After some casual conferencing, it was decided the sixth category would be the Pride flags, since I could download those easily from the Internet without having to write more questions.

Galaxy kids (our youth group) join those who made the fundraiser work.

To make a long story short, I left the Center after six and a half hours of rewriting clues, setting up all the cards (in the proper Jeopardy! typeface), and taping everything to the board, since the Facebook stream would start at 8 a.m. the next morning. I was scheduled to "interview" with Eddie, the host of the stream (and our board's president) about the history of drag, as well as sharing my coming out story. Here's a link (Start at 2:32:00 for my bit). If you want to spend the time to watch the Gay Jeopardy! game, here's a link for that.

Texas Roadhouse server joins our group photo celebrating the day.

The wrap-up of the fundraiser was a group dinner at Texas Roadhouse, which had agreed to kick back 10% of any order when the Center was mentioned. I invited Deb to be my guest, since I know her budget is tight right now, and we all headed out to the restaurant after the streaming wrapped at 8 p.m. It was a kind of high, and a great way to end the event, everyone feeling very connected and rewarded for the 12 hours' work. I took half my steak home and forgot it in the car. I retrieved it the next morning, and it was colder than if I had put it in the fridge the night before (one of the upsides of below-freezing nights).

The other iron I have in the fire is directing "The White Crow" for a group here in La Crosse called The Alternative Truth Project. It was formed by a triad of women who had attended the Women's March on Washington the day after the inauguration last year. It grew out of their desire to continue the resistance in a relative, local way.

This is the graphic I put together for "The White Crow" posters.

So they facilitate theater readings, usually about one a month, that relate to what we're going through right now. Since "The White Crow" is about the pretrial interrogation of Adolph Eichmann in Jerusalem, it is relevant to the rising taste for authoritarianism in our country just now.

The format they use is casting any old way you want, two rehearsals of the piece and then one performance, for which the group pays the license. The director locates the performance space, acquires the license and arranges rehearsals. And, of course, the group is always there to assist you if you're a neophyte in the La Crosse theater community, as I am.

You are also asked to arrange for someone with knowledge of the subject matter of your play to be available for an after-show discussion. This put me in contact with Rabbi Prombaum of the Sons of Abraham synagogue here in town. He, in turn, has put me in contact with a couple people who might lead the post-play discussion. It all comes together.

I'm including this recent fortune cookie fortune just because.

The first rehearsal is scheduled for this Sunday afternoon at my house, since there are only two main characters in the script, and the performance will be done sitting at a table. Makes sense. I have a dining room with a lovely table.

I'm also going to put my name in at the local community theater group, which I had previously written off as horribly cliquish. The artistic director who squelched me so completely when I tried to get involved has now left, and there is a new person heading up the group, who I am told is much more amenable to new people.

When I found out that half of the people directing this season had never directed before, I thought I would offer my services. They have a very nice facility downtown, right on the Mississippi with a stunning view. I'm hoping something will develop for next season.

So that's about it. Things continue on and I'm feeling good about the coming year. If not chock full o' fun, at least it won't be boring.

Lackluster Winter

The reason I haven't been blogging is that nothing has really been happening. And I'm finding that I have a winter behavior pattern evolving. Depending on the weather forecast, I either just hunker down when it gets really cold (like 12º or less) or I head out on the warmer days and get my errands done so that I can just hunker down when it gets really cold.

It's typical that we have a warm patch after the first of the year here in Wisconsin. People refer to it as the January thaw, and we've had three of them in the last two months. My hunch is it's a global warming thing. And the storms we've had so far have been small, almost bypassing us, and none have left more than two or three inches of snow. I do have a suspicion that we'll have at least one more snow storm before Spring really arrives.

After the last two winters, I have learned that an ice storm is what I really hate. It starts as regular rain during a "thaw," then the rain freezes, placing a thin layer of ice on everything. And as the ground is still well frozen, everything turns to clear (or "black") ice, and it's deadly slick. I was unprepared last year, but this year I have a 20 lb. bag of salt on the back porch, so I'm able to melt my way to the garage, if need be.

But for now, the old snow has melted after several days with highs in the 40s and 50s. We have a storm warning for tonight and tomorrow, then things dip back down into the 30s for several days, then pop back up into the 40s and 50s. (Can you tell that I'm really looking forward to Spring?) For today, though, I turn off the furnace and open the windows to get fresh air in the house after months of being closed up. And Patty, the cat, was genuinely surprised at open windows, delighted that she could sit in the windowsill again, smell the fresh air and watch the dead leaves, freed from their icy prison, skitter about the back yard and driveway.

So, nothing much has been going on. I'm still on the desk at the Center on Monday and Wednesday evenings, and I've taken over facilitating Andromeda, a biweekly "rap session" for 18+ folks on Saturday afternoons.

The Center's director of internal affairs (we also have one for outreach) has resigned, which is a real shame, as she was a very effective leader. We have a great board of directors, though, so I don't think the change in leadership is going to derail any of the Center's plans for expansion.

The Center has gotten the gig of selling beer tickets at Riverfest, which happens on the Fourth of July. This is a pretty big deal. There are three windows selling the tickets. The Knights of Columbus are staffing them during the day, and we'll be selling during the evening. Riverfest is paying our group $400 for the service, but I think the public exposure is what's really important.

A big development is my directing a reading of "The White Crow" with a theater group here in La Crosse called The Alternative Truth Project. They put on a reading about every month. Ours will be in early April. The license has been procured and the reading is scheduled next door at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship at 7:30 p.m. on April 7. I just met with the folks at the fellowship and lined up everything for the use of the space.

I have an Eichmann and a Baum (the two characters in the play), so now it's just a matter of having a couple of rehearsals. One of the reasons I picked a two-character play is because you can get a lot of work done in rehearsal when you've just got two actors and the director.

The lion's share of Christmas still up (wreaths and garlands are down and stowed in the basement). Amanda and Natalie dropped by today and we put together a three-person bucket brigade to get the 21 little houses (in their boxes for a month) to the basement. We all moved the boxes to the kitchen table, then Amanda handed them off to Natalie who went up and down the stairs, handing them off to me and I put them on the shelves. We got them stowed and dragged the remaining empty Christmas storage bins and boxes upstairs, so now packing the rest of the holidays will be simple.

As proof that things have been unusually boring, I checked my phone and I haven't taken a single picture since the last entry, so no artwork, I'm afraid. But at least, now, you know how dull my life is.

Chilly New Year's Eve

I'm sitting at the reception desk at the Center for my four-hour Wednesday evening stint. Usually, this is a very boring point of my day, since it's almost 6 p.m., there will be no calls at all, but there is a development committee meeting coalescing in the conference room, so there's lots of activity.

Little houses under the tree

The theological milestone of Epiphany has arrived and passed; the cultural cutoff date when all things Christmas are supposed to disappear and stow in their summer storage places. This rarely happens in so punctual a fashion in my household, no matter its makeup. Realistically, I shoot for Valentine's Day; that way, you get almost a quarter year's enjoyment out of the decorations.

But as long as they're up, I keep the blinds open so the rest of the world can enjoy them. The house is set back on the street, though, so most of the motorists never see the tree, and only the pedestrians who look straight at the house ever see it, either. It may be few who see them, but the decorations are up for them as much as me.

At the Center, More people are arriving, converging for the meeting. It doesn't happen that often (at least not for the adults), but you can feel the community among these people, among us. We focus most of our time/money/manpower on youth programs, since this is where the local need is greatest, but it's still great to get the adults together, even for something as sober as a development meeting.

The mantle from the hall

It's revealing that we still have not had any meetings of the communications committee. Most of the focus is internal with the group right now, finding ways to expand finances, volunteerism and the actual facility itself. 

There's a large open space in the same building, right next to the current Center, which would more than double its size and provide a comfortable drop-in environment for the LGBTQ community. All it would take is knocking out a single wall and the space would be available. The landlord is amenable to renting it to us (there's even rumors of potentially purchasing the building from the owner), so this might just turn into a longterm home for the group.

One potential on the horizon is my directing a reading of "The White Crow," by Donald Freed. This show was my first professional gig as a production stage manager (also running stage manager) at the Los Angeles Actors' Theater (precursor to the Los Angeles Theatre Center in downtown L.A.). I have yet to find a venue in which to present the reading, but I'm hopeful I'll find something.

New Year's Eve fireworks on Grand Dad Bluff
juxtaposed with the full moon above.

The reading is under the auspices of a group called The Alternate Truth Project. They want me to put it on sometime in March or April. I'm trying to set up the performance at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship, which is right next door to my house. I have yet to get anyone to reply to my e-mail, though. I'm also checking with the Pump House Arts Center, as well. Something will develop on this front, I'm sure.

The three women who have organized the group will also be helping out with auditions, since I know absolutely no actors here in town that would be good for the parts. I was told that they don't use props in their readings, but I think it's vital that we have folders and documents to use, as the two actors (one portraying Adolf Eichmann and the other his interrogator) fling documents onto the table to back up their points in what becomes a confrontational debate.

I haven't firmed anything up with them yet, but I'm hoping that things will be in place by the end of the month. There will only be two rehearsals before the actual reading. The group has a robust e-mailing list, so there is little need to publicize. Should end up being fun, and I'm hoping to meet some theater people in the process.

And taxes are on the horizon. I have most of the paperwork I need, I think, now, so it's a matter of getting everything together and processing it.

This last week has been our "January thaw," which means we actually have had several days with highs in the upper 30s and lower 40s. It's almost over, though, as the forecast high for Friday (and into the next week and foreseeable future) is in the teens, with lows in the below-zero zone. So we enjoy the warmth while we can.

With no meaningful snows yet this winter, we have yet to deal with accumulations beyond half an inch. I'm waiting for the big storm that will drop a good six inches of snow. Anything above that, my snow removal guy charges $30 instead of $25. He's still a bargain, and a real convenience. Between him and my snow thrower, the sidewalks always remain clear of snow.

Since I Went Away

So, finally, six weeks after our return, I have reached the first of November.

Somehow, I really can't remember much of what happened in November. I did my stints at the Center, on Monday and Wednesday evenings, and most of my free time was spent processing Paris photos, both mine and David's, and setting up the blog entries. And, of course, there was a Thanksgiving with folks from the Center. I provided the mashed potatoes, as was my tradition with my own family when Mom still did the whole turkey-cooking and multi-side-dish making thing.

I think she got it right when she just started taking everyone out to Thanksgiving dinner at a restaurant. The one year I remember especially was at Spyglass Inn, because they gave everyone leftovers to take home. Now that's classy. I'm thinking that might be my M.O. next year, since I can't see myself going the whole nine yards with the turkey and e'ything.

I've only done that once, and it was for just Steve and I. Kittie and David did come down and help mount a Thanksgiving feast in Pasadena. I just remember having a whole head of cauliflower slathered in cheese sauce for just three people.

So that was November. On December 1st, Pam and Steve and Amanda, sans Natalie, came over and helped me lug Christmas up from the basement. We got quite a bit done in one afternoon, but I was left with the chore of putting all the ornaments on the tree. This was not because of anyone else's neglect; it's because I really take a long time to get them all on positioned the way I like them, distribution wise.

So I had just about gotten all of them on the tree and Christmas would be up and functioning when, one afternoon while browsing through Facebook and our local Rummage Sale page, I found a listing for 20 of those little porcelain house that people collect and put under their tree or in dioramas on a table or shelves.

I'd always liked those little buildings, lighted up inside, but I never had the patience to collect them year after year. So I admired them in other people's homes (Sandy Beck, I'm referring to you), but only had one or two of my own. My sister-in-law Carla had given me one as a present one Christmas, but it got dropped and broke. Perhaps that's why I never collected.

So, yeah; 20 porcelain buildings, also including a little creek running through them, with a bridge and a sleigh, lamp posts and little people. They were all in original boxes. The woman, named Leslie, was asking $125.

Look at all these great houses! Each on its own box.

I had never done a private purchase online, and it soon became obvious is was going to assume the tension and anonymity of a drug buy. I even took out cash for the transaction, as she had requested. After a couple messages back and forth, we agreed to meet Tuesday at 7 p.m. in the parking lot of Shopko on the South end of town. (If La Crosse has a "bad" part of town, it's the south end … well, and the north end, too. Those of us here in the middle are, well, in the middle.)

Now, I had also arranged to meet on Tuesday late afternoon with Anne, a woman who has organized a performance group here town known as The Alternative Truth Project. They basically facilitate readings and limited productions of socially and politically relevant theater. It sounded like the kind of group I would be interested in, so she and I got together at JavaVino, a fairly hip place that serves really good coffee and fairly decent food. We had neither.

Turns out Anne had worked extensively in L.A. in the entertainment industry, even working with Carl Sagan on Cosmos and several other television productions. It was really refreshing to talk with someone who understood the gestalt of Hollywood and The Biz. I gave her a manuscript copy of "The White Crow" from my theater files and told her it was something I would be interested in directing.

When we got to talking about the local theater scene, I told her about my experience with David Kirkpatrick and working the stage crew on "Boeing, Boeing." She said the guy was a jerk, and that the impression I had gotten about the place being cliquish was wrong. She told me to get ahold of the guy who was now running the company; that most of the directors they had for this season had never directed before. I think I'll give it a chance.

When we parted ways at JavaVino, it was about an hour before my planned meeting down at Shopko, so I grabbed a taco salad and drove down, sat in the parking lot and ate my dinner.

I had sent a selfie to Leslie so she would know what I looked like and told her I would be in a white Saturn sedan (yes, my car is that old: "What's a Saturn?"). She was on time, found me, and we drove to a vacant area of the huge parking lot. I passed her the cash and she passed me the houses, one by one by one one by one by one one by one by one one by one by one one by one by one one by one by one one by one, and then two more boxes with the creek and sundries.

I filled up the trunk of the car and ended up with four boxes in the back seat. It's in the teens or 20s, weatherwise, so unloading the car at home got me really chilly, as I was only in my semi-frigid coat. Even with gloves, I was glad to get inside with all these new purchases. I had boxes stacked everywhere.

It was like my own special Christmas morning, opening each box. These houses were obviously loved. Each was still in its original styrofoam packing, wrapped in its original plastic bag. There wasn't a chip or crack on any of them.

So this weekend, Amanda is coming into town to help me put these up and make them pretty! Since each has its own single bulb, cord and plug, I have to pick up several power strips just to plug them all in safely. When I had them all out, ready to take the above picture, I realized this purchase has added about 30% to my holiday storage volume, something I won't have to deal with until at least Epiphany. Luckily, there's room on the shelves in the basement.

So, Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah (what's left of it) and Happy New Year, if I don't make another post before those salutations are appropriate. And I leave you with this: