Louisa and her Mudhole


Walking around with dried mud all over my body doesn't faze me one bit. It does seem to bother Mom. She says it's hard to rub my belly and back with that hard-caked mud on me. Did I mention that I love to be rubbed? Mom gets pretty creative with helping me cure my constant need for scratching. Yesterday, she used a rake. The day before she just sat down on the ground with me and held her legs out straight in front of her. I rubbed myself back and forth over her feet. I loved it. Mom, not so much. She claims I was breaking her feet. She likes to exaggerate.

Originally published June 30, 2016 in the Crawford County Independent & Kickapoo Scout



When you live in a rural area, the word neighbor means anyone within a five-mile radius. When I'm telling a story and I reference a neighbor, it may mean the neighbor that lives three miles down my road and a mile and a half down another.

...One of my neighbors sent me an email asking if I knew why the ambulance went down my road and soon came back out past her place. I hadn't heard or seen the ambulance and had no clue. This was worrisome. She mentioned she was going out for her morning run. We both felt she'd discover who the ambulance was for, because going running, bike riding, or going for a walk are the second best ways to find out what is going on in our neighborhood. A weekly visit to the dump remains number one.

Originally published July 14, 2016 in the Crawford County Independent & Kickapoo Scout

Parasites & Me

Excerpt from “Jane’s world”

For a person who claims not to be envious, I find that sometimes I do envy the girl with a handkerchief held firmly in the palm of her hand. The one who’s constantly sniffling, sneezing, and dabbing at her nose. The gal who announces in a soft voice that her throat is sore. I see this as rather endearing. I have a hard time picturing my history of illnesses—pinworm, Chiggers, ringworm, tick-borne diseases, and giardia—in quite the same way. To me they sound coarser, like the kind of sicknesses that go with a gal who doesn't own a handkerchief.

Originally published in the Crawford County Independent & Kickapoo Scout

Not Alone!


I awoke to a noise and sat upright. I scanned the shoreline and the trail. Not a soul. I knew from experience that anyone hiking would be in by now, that soon it would be dusk. I was about to lie down again when I heard that sound again, a humming. Looking out onto the bay I spotted a boat and it was headed right for me. Up I leaped for the second time in less than an hour and quickly slid into my clothes. I extended my hand to the woman handing me the rope for her boat. I could see the twinkle in her eyes, and the smile on her face as she said , “Don't even think we didn't see you jump up and put on your clothes.” I took the rope, and we introduced ourselves. When we had the boat moored, I met her husband. They had been boating this area for three days and Siskiwit Bay was their favorite place to spend the night. Mine too.

Originally published June 23, 2016 in the Crawford County Independent & Kickapoo Scout