May 2008

If you live anywhere near the center of our great nation, then you really need to come on over and see it for yourself.  It’s right here, in Soldier, Iowa.  Coincidentally we also think it’s the center of the universe.

Why visit Soldier?  If you’re reading this, it’s a 50/50 bet that you might have family or friends here or you may have even grown up here.  In addition to that excellent reason to visit, here are five other reasons I can think of.

1.  Year-Round Activities. In warm summer months, we have active people of all ages doing all kinds of things.  For example, Sunday evenings provide summer softball opportunities.  All ages and skill levels are welcome at the local ball diamond.  The townspeople are readying the ballpark for another summer with some extra special TLC this year.  Throughout the year, there are always outdoor opportunities available either in town or at the nearby Oldham Recreation area, including bicycling, hiking, birdwatching, hunting, fishing, camping, swimming and even horseback riding.  And if you aren’t really the outdoor type, there is a bookstore in town stocking over 20000 titles, there is a community center with an indoor fitness center / Yoga classes and winter fish fry Fridays, and there are ample opportunities for driving tours of the Loess Hills, a one-of-a-kind land mass that forms the geographical backdrop for Soldier.

2.  Cultural Curiosities. Soldier was founded by a small group of Norwegian immigrants over a century ago.  The town’s history provides the backdrop for the many cultural opportunities located here.  Traveling around town will provide opportunities to view historic Scandinavian architecture (including the historic country church), observe unique reproductions of Norwegian Rosemale painting on some of the commercial buildings, and maybe even run into an old-timer and take the opportunity to trade greetings in Norwegian.

3.  Historical Rarities. Soldier is home to many unique historical tidbits.  The oldest continuously operating 4H club in the USA calls Soldier home.  The local Community Building, itself a cultural gem and a memorial to World War I veterans, played host to Lawrence Welk when he came to town to perform for the townspeople.  Indeed the town’s name itself, Soldier, was given because of the legend of a Union Soldier apparently found lying near the river, also named for this soldier (Soldier River).

4.  Friendly Neighborhoods and Business District. Soldier has two beautiful parks inside the city limits, and a baseball / softball field at the eastern edge of town.  Interwoven with these green spaces are tidy shops, clean streets, and well-kept homes all tended to by friendly, welcoming people.  A wide assortment of shops and services is available in town and the immediately outlying areas, from picture framing to automotive service, from banking to archery supplies.

5.  Accesible and Affordable. Soldier is easy to get to and easy to get around, and a trip to Soldier won’t set you back much.  There aren’t many tourist traps in Soldier, just honest value for your dollar.  You can fill the tank with gas, find a quick snack or a more complete meal, visit one or more of the unique shops (gifts, consigned items, books, and much more), and meet some of the most interesting and engaging people on earth, without the big city expense or theme park “captive pricing” that you might be used to.  Soldier will send you back home with best wishes for another visit soon, and with much of the money you came with!

There you have it – my top five.  Two airports serve the area, each about an hour away (Omaha’s Eppley Airfield and Sioux City’s Sioux Gateway Airport).

If you’ve been to Soldier and you can think of some points I missed, please comment!

Many people spent at least part of their long weekend traveling to cemeteries to take part in the annual “decoration”. This seems like an appropriate time to talk about those we’ve lost.

In my lifetime, I’ve seen several friends and family members pass away. The first I really remember, and the first to really impact me, was my great grandmother who passed just before I turned ten years old. Her husband, my great grandfather, was also very important in my life but despite remembering him and what a fun fellow he was, I don’t remember his passing (I was about three years old at the time).

Some of the saddest and most draining experiences have been losing friends at a young age. One of my good friends from college passed away over seven years ago. We were very close in age, and shared several interests and had a similar love, admiration, and closeness with our grandfathers. He was killed in a car accident one cold day in December, and I had seen him and joked with him earlier that day.

Maybe the hardest death to deal with is the slow and agonizing death of someone close to you. You don’t know if you should wish them comfort and a quicker journey or a longer time on earth to finish their last acts, words and thoughts.

It sometimes amazes me that some friends of mine can be rather unemotional and almost “clinical” about dealing with the difficulty of losing someone. For me, it’s as if an actual piece of myself has been cut away as I think back over the times we shared and realize that no more will be shared. I don’t know if these friends are in a late stage of denial, if they are actually aware of this lack of emotion and it is really a coping skill, or if they genuinely don’t feel the same type of loss when someone dies.

These were just some thoughts I had as I think back over my Memorial Day weekend. This three day weekend means different things to different Americans. For me, it is for reuniting with family and remembering and honoring those we’ve lost especially those who’ve made the supreme sacrifice for our freedom. Hope you had a happy, meaningful, productive and safe weekend.

Note: This post is an approximate response to a challenge issued by Lorelle VanFossen over on her blog.  She issues a weekly blogging challenge, and this was from a while back, but it basically asked that you write a “memoir of a moment”.

On a wonderfully warm spring day in March, many thoughts pass through my mind.  I can remember the smell of the laboratory on my first day of work.  My butterflies and sweaty palms almost return, as I recall that original excited anticipation of my first real job after graduating from college.  Images of the people I met during that first day, people who would become lifelong friends, still roll across my mind like a “this is your life” movie projected onto a screen.

It is as if seven  years’ worth of life events were compressed into a single day, and it happened just yesterday.  The sounds of the automatic double doors that opened to the airlock separating the laboratory wing from the administrative offices, the lightly colored cinder block walls that created the corridors connecting the laboratories, the heavy oak lab doors.  The feel of the white linen lab coat and the sound of my feet on the tile floor as I walk through the halls for the last time.  The familiar ‘whoosh’ of the door opening to the walk-in cooler, and the pleasantly cool air inside, with metal shelving lined with petri dishes, small tubes, jars, bags and buckets, all teeming with life too small to be seen.  All of this experience, all of this experiencing, would come to an end today.

My friends and co-workers had thrown me a farewell party some time before.  I’d been asked to speak.  I wanted to be eloquent or funny or just memorable, but it was all I could do to choke back tears and spit out the simple sentence “Thanks, I never thought I’d be leaving.”

With those seven words still echoing in my head, in that always-stupid-sounding noise that is heard when you listen to yourself talking out loud, I handed my security coded key card over to the woman who had hired me and was my supervisor still.  For just a moment while we both had our hands on the card that had let me enter the lab for the last seven years, I didn’t want to let go.  Then I did let go.  I provided her with an official resignation letter, thanked her and said my goodbyes.  With that it was over.  I had reached the end of the day.

After a weekend to finish up moving my worldly possessions, I would begin my new job.  Still in a laboratory, but instead of a small city I’d be located in a decidedly small town.  No more microbiology, but natural products chemistry, science of a different kind.  No more weekly group meetings, no more lunch in the company cafeteria to network with new people, no more friendly competition between different laboratories.

It was a different kind of job. It was a different kind of company.  It was a different kind of laboratory. It was a different kind of town.

It was a different kind of  day.

This year in addition to my over-the-top tomato project, I also established a square foot garden (made popular by the PBS gardening program and the books by Mel Bartholomew, with a recent revision).  I wanted to try the extreme case of gardening on my concrete driveway.  So I lost a parking space in exchange for a source of fresh veggies and salad greens.  Seems fair.

In the photos below, you can see the SFG with plants just emerging from the soil mix and then again about a month later.  What a difference a month makes!

Note to the very observant & somewhat curious:  yes, I have moved the mower since taking the first picture.  I’ve actually mowed three times.

Anybody else doing the SFG thing?  Tell me how it goes for you in the comments!

Readers have been able to listen to me for a while now. Well guess what? If you decide that you want to speak out, now you can do that too! Just scroll to the bottom of the page, and use the newly available “Call Me” button on the lower left.

Here’s an example of me using the cool “Call Me” button: