Well, I've been kind of quiet on this because I'm waiting to see how it all works out. The pieces are falling into place so I should probably get this off my chest.
Within the next few months, I will no longer be working on the Tribune-Phonograph anymore. At least exclusively.
Basically since the former editor left and I took over his job as an interim editor, I've not really been comfortable with my job. Long hours, little appreciation and feeling like I never was doing quite as good as I should be will wear on a person. I asked the GM to post for an editor. It took a couple weeks before we even got a reply and then they were weak.
But, along came the perfect candidate. I helped interview him, which was a rather strange feeling in itself. But, if I were him, I would be glad to hear about the job from the person working in it, rather than what management thinks I do. It seemed more like a sales pitch to me than an interview. Please take my job.
Guess I should be in sales. As of today, a new editor has accepted the job and is coming in tomorrow afternoon to go over some things and look for a place to live.
So, on to the next step. What about me?
That's still to be determined. In the short term, we're going to run a three person outfit so the new guy gets off to a good start. After that, I'll likely be working at the Star News as a reporter filling in for the guy that left there last week until they decide what to do with that job.
After that, I'm not really sure. I have some ideas for a special sections and marketing position, and I think management might see me as a daytime reporter at SN. Mainly, I need to cut back on working evenings as much as possible. It's been a point of contention between Nate and I, and it's not really something I enjoy that much anyway.
My long term goal is to be a stay-at-home mom/help on the farm/putz with photography/freelance writer, but that is quite a ways down the road yet. In the mean time, this is a step in the right direction.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Restricted to corrective lenses (7/23 column)
Last week I was looking through birthday cards for my brother-in-law and came across one that struck me. To paraphrase, it said birthdays are like a slap in the face from Father Time. I’m here to say birthdays aren’t the only wake up call that screams, “Hey, you are getting old!”
Very soon it will be one year since Nate and I moved into our house, but last week I finally got around to updating the address on my driver’s license. This was something I’d actually planned to attempt several times, but either ran out of time that day or just plain forgot. For whatever reason Thursday morning, I remembered it was DMV day in Abby. I took a slightly early lunch in order to tackle the job. Everytime I’ve been to the DMV in the past, whether it was in southern Wisconsin, River Falls or here, I found myself waiting around and spending at least an hour there. It’s not my favorite place to be. For some reason, many of the DMV workers I’ve come across have this way of striking fear into their customers. No matter what you do, like filling out the forms or standing in front of the screen for a picture, you just can’t seem to get it right. I always walk in with the fear I’m going to screw up and they won’t give me my license back.
So Thursday I walked into the DMV with the intention of getting an address change. As it turns out an address change now costs $14 (I think it used to be $4). Since my license also expires next spring, I found out I could just renew it for $34. It was a no-brainer. However, the drawback to renewing my license is I had to take a vision test. No problem. I’d passed it before, right?
I do have glasses, although I wear them so infrequently it sometimes startles people when I put them on. I just don’t really like the feeling of having them on my face. I got my first pair of glasses when I was a sophomore in high school. I was struggling in chemistry and noticed I was having a hard time reading the chalkboard. I took a trip to the optometrist and found out my vision was slightly near-sighted. Enough that glasses could help me see the board but I wouldn’t need them to drive. Unfortunately, it didn’t really help my chemistry grade much either.
When my license came up to renew when I was 19, I passed the DMV vision test again without any trouble. My vision was about 20/40, which is right at what the DMV’s minimum standard is to drive without glasses. Two years ago I went in to get new glasses. I’m not really a “once-a-year” kind of person when it comes to visiting the eye doctor. Normally I avoid it until I break or lose my glasses. The eye doctor then told my vision was closer to 20/50, but that the DMV allowed you to squint so I should still be able to pass their test.
Apparently my vision has gotten worse since then. On Thursday I looked into the DMV’s little machine and froze. It was nothing but blurs. I couldn’t even guess what the letters were. I looked up and told the guy behind the counter, “I think I need to use my glasses.” I put them on and looked again. This time they were almost perfectly clear. I rattled them off with no problems. I took the dreaded picture and got my new license. As he handed it to me, he said, “Now, you know you’re restricted to corrective lenses, right?”
“Yes,” I said, slightly annoyed by both the man looking down at me and the idea that I now must wear my glasses whenever I drive. It might be time for contacts.
Very soon it will be one year since Nate and I moved into our house, but last week I finally got around to updating the address on my driver’s license. This was something I’d actually planned to attempt several times, but either ran out of time that day or just plain forgot. For whatever reason Thursday morning, I remembered it was DMV day in Abby. I took a slightly early lunch in order to tackle the job. Everytime I’ve been to the DMV in the past, whether it was in southern Wisconsin, River Falls or here, I found myself waiting around and spending at least an hour there. It’s not my favorite place to be. For some reason, many of the DMV workers I’ve come across have this way of striking fear into their customers. No matter what you do, like filling out the forms or standing in front of the screen for a picture, you just can’t seem to get it right. I always walk in with the fear I’m going to screw up and they won’t give me my license back.
So Thursday I walked into the DMV with the intention of getting an address change. As it turns out an address change now costs $14 (I think it used to be $4). Since my license also expires next spring, I found out I could just renew it for $34. It was a no-brainer. However, the drawback to renewing my license is I had to take a vision test. No problem. I’d passed it before, right?
I do have glasses, although I wear them so infrequently it sometimes startles people when I put them on. I just don’t really like the feeling of having them on my face. I got my first pair of glasses when I was a sophomore in high school. I was struggling in chemistry and noticed I was having a hard time reading the chalkboard. I took a trip to the optometrist and found out my vision was slightly near-sighted. Enough that glasses could help me see the board but I wouldn’t need them to drive. Unfortunately, it didn’t really help my chemistry grade much either.
When my license came up to renew when I was 19, I passed the DMV vision test again without any trouble. My vision was about 20/40, which is right at what the DMV’s minimum standard is to drive without glasses. Two years ago I went in to get new glasses. I’m not really a “once-a-year” kind of person when it comes to visiting the eye doctor. Normally I avoid it until I break or lose my glasses. The eye doctor then told my vision was closer to 20/50, but that the DMV allowed you to squint so I should still be able to pass their test.
Apparently my vision has gotten worse since then. On Thursday I looked into the DMV’s little machine and froze. It was nothing but blurs. I couldn’t even guess what the letters were. I looked up and told the guy behind the counter, “I think I need to use my glasses.” I put them on and looked again. This time they were almost perfectly clear. I rattled them off with no problems. I took the dreaded picture and got my new license. As he handed it to me, he said, “Now, you know you’re restricted to corrective lenses, right?”
“Yes,” I said, slightly annoyed by both the man looking down at me and the idea that I now must wear my glasses whenever I drive. It might be time for contacts.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
OK, I know a lot of people aren't going to agree with this...
Since the end of last season, Packer fans have had one question on their minds: Is Brett coming back or isn’t he? In March we thought we had the answer. A tearful Favre sat in front of the media and declared his career over. We mourned, and we got over it. So did the Packers. But, Favre never filed his official retirement with the NFL. Now, if I’m head coach Mike McCarthy, that right there should have told me something was amiss.
News came out last week that Brett not only wanted to come back, he was also asking to be released from the Packers. Fans understandably felt betrayed by the news. Favre was called a traitor and much worse in some circles of fans. I admit that was my first reaction was well. But digging deeper into the issue brings up a whole other side of the story. Favre appeared Monday and Tuesday nights in a Fox News interview taped Monday afternoon. I caught Monday’s segment but not Tuesday, so my impressions are mainly coming from that part.
The interview was in a simple format. Brett, looking and speaking passionately about the game he loves, pleaded his case. As always he was genuine, wearing his football-shaped heart on his sleeve. According the Favre, he felt pressured into giving an answer in March and gave the best one he could at the time, that he didn’t feel like he could commit to the upcoming season. No one in the world could understand the pressure he was under except Brett Favre. How would you like to be the speculation of every sports broadcaster and bar conversation nationwide? Do you think you might crack under the pressure a little too? Yes, Favre made a mistake, but hasn’t everyone? The game of football isn’t about the mistakes but how you recover from them. Favre is trying to do that.
Favre admits he screwed up, and on June 20 when he called the Packers to confess it, he was told they had moved on. At the same time, Favre says he was told the Packers couldn’t see him playing for anyone else either. I think that’s a cop out on the Packers part for both a contract and a relationship. Favre is still under contract by the Packers, and that goes both ways. The Packers should decide soon to honor it and let him play, to trade him or to release him. They’ve already announced releasing him is not an option. I will fault Favre for one thing: his disdain at the thought of playing back-up to Aaron Rodgers. Because of the position he has put himself in, he should take what he can get at this point if he is serious about playing. While I don’t doubt Aaron Rodgers’ talent, I do have concerns about his resiliency. Rodgers may begin the season as the starting quarterback, but who will finish it is another question. It could be Favre.
Favre is an inspiration to the team, and that quality can’t be overlooked. Starting or benchwarming, Favre is an asset on the field and off. I have a proposition that I think is the most fair way to decide the fate of Favre and the Packers. Bring Favre back, but make him earn the starting spot if he wants it. Make Favre and Rodgers duke it out, and may the best quarterback win.
The people most hurt in all this controversy are the fans. Packer Nation is becoming a divided one: some taking the team’s side and some taking Favre’s side. It’s no way to start a season.
News came out last week that Brett not only wanted to come back, he was also asking to be released from the Packers. Fans understandably felt betrayed by the news. Favre was called a traitor and much worse in some circles of fans. I admit that was my first reaction was well. But digging deeper into the issue brings up a whole other side of the story. Favre appeared Monday and Tuesday nights in a Fox News interview taped Monday afternoon. I caught Monday’s segment but not Tuesday, so my impressions are mainly coming from that part.
The interview was in a simple format. Brett, looking and speaking passionately about the game he loves, pleaded his case. As always he was genuine, wearing his football-shaped heart on his sleeve. According the Favre, he felt pressured into giving an answer in March and gave the best one he could at the time, that he didn’t feel like he could commit to the upcoming season. No one in the world could understand the pressure he was under except Brett Favre. How would you like to be the speculation of every sports broadcaster and bar conversation nationwide? Do you think you might crack under the pressure a little too? Yes, Favre made a mistake, but hasn’t everyone? The game of football isn’t about the mistakes but how you recover from them. Favre is trying to do that.
Favre admits he screwed up, and on June 20 when he called the Packers to confess it, he was told they had moved on. At the same time, Favre says he was told the Packers couldn’t see him playing for anyone else either. I think that’s a cop out on the Packers part for both a contract and a relationship. Favre is still under contract by the Packers, and that goes both ways. The Packers should decide soon to honor it and let him play, to trade him or to release him. They’ve already announced releasing him is not an option. I will fault Favre for one thing: his disdain at the thought of playing back-up to Aaron Rodgers. Because of the position he has put himself in, he should take what he can get at this point if he is serious about playing. While I don’t doubt Aaron Rodgers’ talent, I do have concerns about his resiliency. Rodgers may begin the season as the starting quarterback, but who will finish it is another question. It could be Favre.
Favre is an inspiration to the team, and that quality can’t be overlooked. Starting or benchwarming, Favre is an asset on the field and off. I have a proposition that I think is the most fair way to decide the fate of Favre and the Packers. Bring Favre back, but make him earn the starting spot if he wants it. Make Favre and Rodgers duke it out, and may the best quarterback win.
The people most hurt in all this controversy are the fans. Packer Nation is becoming a divided one: some taking the team’s side and some taking Favre’s side. It’s no way to start a season.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Baby "M"--7/9 column
Up until Tuesday, I owned the world’s most pregnant cow.
Being a 4-Her for so many years, there are a few “projects” I’ve yet to give up: flowers, photography and, most notably, dairy. When I moved to northern Wisconsin a few years back, some of my cows came with me shortly after. A few milking cows stayed at my parents place, payment for feeding them all these years, but the four heifers I had moved north. I had two Holsteins, Tasha and Dana, and two Ayrshires, Greta and Marnie. The Holsteins are not fairing so well. One refused to have a calf until she was more than three years old. She just doesn’t milk. In Nate’s barn the cows pay their own way or they don’t stay. Dana hurt her back in a stall after she freshened and hasn’t been the same. The only thing saving both of them is that they keep having calves.
I’ve had more success with Greta and Marnie. I have to admit Greta is my favorite if only because she goes back to my old show cow, Willie. She’s also given me two heifer calves and is just pretty to look at. Marnie is pretty much the opposite of Greta in appearance: short and fat. But, she milks well, is pleasant to work around and keeps having calves.
After having her first calf in June of last year, Marnie bred back right away and was due May 2. The day came and went with Marnie looking as fat and dry as ever. By June we were really worried, but she wasn’t acting sick like there was a problem. Nate swore up and down he wrote her breeding date down correctly, and she could not have gotten near a bull in the freestall barn. The vet was out for pregnancy checks the second week in June, so we had him ultrasound Marnie. Yes, there was a calf. Yes, it looked good and was alive. We would just have to wait. As time went on we came to the realization someone didn’t write down the second breeding date (first time it has ever happened since the farm has been using artificial insemination).
On Tuesday I finally got the happy news: Marnie had a calf, and it was even a heifer. In Nate’s words, she is only about 50 pounds and “cute.” Now comes the tough part: what to name the little bugger. Tradition dictates she will have an “M” name like her mother and grandmother, Marita. Meanwhile, I’ll be combing the breeding records trying to figure out who her daddy is so I can register her. We only keep a few Ayrshire bulls in the tank, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. If all else fails, maybe one of the daytime talk show hosts would invite her for a paternity test on the show.
Being a 4-Her for so many years, there are a few “projects” I’ve yet to give up: flowers, photography and, most notably, dairy. When I moved to northern Wisconsin a few years back, some of my cows came with me shortly after. A few milking cows stayed at my parents place, payment for feeding them all these years, but the four heifers I had moved north. I had two Holsteins, Tasha and Dana, and two Ayrshires, Greta and Marnie. The Holsteins are not fairing so well. One refused to have a calf until she was more than three years old. She just doesn’t milk. In Nate’s barn the cows pay their own way or they don’t stay. Dana hurt her back in a stall after she freshened and hasn’t been the same. The only thing saving both of them is that they keep having calves.
I’ve had more success with Greta and Marnie. I have to admit Greta is my favorite if only because she goes back to my old show cow, Willie. She’s also given me two heifer calves and is just pretty to look at. Marnie is pretty much the opposite of Greta in appearance: short and fat. But, she milks well, is pleasant to work around and keeps having calves.
After having her first calf in June of last year, Marnie bred back right away and was due May 2. The day came and went with Marnie looking as fat and dry as ever. By June we were really worried, but she wasn’t acting sick like there was a problem. Nate swore up and down he wrote her breeding date down correctly, and she could not have gotten near a bull in the freestall barn. The vet was out for pregnancy checks the second week in June, so we had him ultrasound Marnie. Yes, there was a calf. Yes, it looked good and was alive. We would just have to wait. As time went on we came to the realization someone didn’t write down the second breeding date (first time it has ever happened since the farm has been using artificial insemination).
On Tuesday I finally got the happy news: Marnie had a calf, and it was even a heifer. In Nate’s words, she is only about 50 pounds and “cute.” Now comes the tough part: what to name the little bugger. Tradition dictates she will have an “M” name like her mother and grandmother, Marita. Meanwhile, I’ll be combing the breeding records trying to figure out who her daddy is so I can register her. We only keep a few Ayrshire bulls in the tank, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. If all else fails, maybe one of the daytime talk show hosts would invite her for a paternity test on the show.
Monday, July 07, 2008
If only...
The Fourth of July was on a Friday every year. It was nice to have a three day weekend, especially on a holiday that was "assignment light." We stayed busy though. Here's what we did.
Thursday: I get a call from Nate, "When are you going to be home? We've got hay to unload." So I unloaded five (? I lost count, but I think that's what we did) loads of hay when I got home from work. Whoop-dee-do. Then I soaked the dirt and crud off in a hot bath and went to bed early.
Friday: Cheryl and I picked four gallons of strawberries. I got some groceries and Sure-Jel and made two batches of strawberry freezer jam. I've still got a whole gallon left and I need to buy a chest freezer before I can do any more. We went to the fireworks in Medford Friday night and had a couple at the bar afterwards.
Saturday: I got up early and made two salads, then Nate and I went to my grandparents for lunch. We met my mom and Kaitlyn there to hand off Jacob. Boy, was he excited to see us! We spent a good part of the afternoon there, then headed back north. That night we all went to the NTPA pulls. Jacob fell asleep on Grandpa Tony's lap still wearing his ear muffs.
Sunday: Jacob and I headed to Eau Claire and met Jen and Cindy for lunch, arcade and shopping. Jacob hit the 250 ticket jackpot on a wheel game (he pulled the handle then hit the stop button). After we spent all our money we putzed around the mall for a while, then said our good byes and headed home. Cindy sent a new toy for Jacob: a red Powerwheels Chevy truck. The battery is on the charger now and Nate can't wait to teach Jacob how to drive it.
Also, I got some big news over the weekend. It's still hush-hush, so it will stay quiet for now, but there will be a big announcement in the future! I will say we're thrilled Jacob will finally have a playmate. And no, I'm not pregnant.
Thursday: I get a call from Nate, "When are you going to be home? We've got hay to unload." So I unloaded five (? I lost count, but I think that's what we did) loads of hay when I got home from work. Whoop-dee-do. Then I soaked the dirt and crud off in a hot bath and went to bed early.
Friday: Cheryl and I picked four gallons of strawberries. I got some groceries and Sure-Jel and made two batches of strawberry freezer jam. I've still got a whole gallon left and I need to buy a chest freezer before I can do any more. We went to the fireworks in Medford Friday night and had a couple at the bar afterwards.
Saturday: I got up early and made two salads, then Nate and I went to my grandparents for lunch. We met my mom and Kaitlyn there to hand off Jacob. Boy, was he excited to see us! We spent a good part of the afternoon there, then headed back north. That night we all went to the NTPA pulls. Jacob fell asleep on Grandpa Tony's lap still wearing his ear muffs.
Sunday: Jacob and I headed to Eau Claire and met Jen and Cindy for lunch, arcade and shopping. Jacob hit the 250 ticket jackpot on a wheel game (he pulled the handle then hit the stop button). After we spent all our money we putzed around the mall for a while, then said our good byes and headed home. Cindy sent a new toy for Jacob: a red Powerwheels Chevy truck. The battery is on the charger now and Nate can't wait to teach Jacob how to drive it.
Also, I got some big news over the weekend. It's still hush-hush, so it will stay quiet for now, but there will be a big announcement in the future! I will say we're thrilled Jacob will finally have a playmate. And no, I'm not pregnant.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Gone to Camp Grandma (7/2 column)
I believe I write nearly the same, exact column every time this happens, please bear with me.
I am childless this week.
Once or twice a year, Jacob gets to go spend a week at “Camp Grandma.” He’s been doing it since he was about nine months old but I still can’t quite get over the shock of not having him around. The house is quiet when I come home at night. There’s no Sponge Bob theme song blaring, no sound of the toy box getting dumped in the middle of the living room floor and no commotion of kid and dog wrestling on the floor. (Typically, this ends with one of them crying, but then they are back at it 30 seconds later.) Speaking of the dog, even Lucy seems to be depressed. The pup has done little but sleep the entire time she’s in the house. Outside she seems bored. Or maybe she’s enjoying it.
As much as I miss Jacob this week, there is a certain freedom in his absence. On Monday I didn’t have to rush out of work to get him from day care before the deadline. I haven’t had to stop in Stetsonville to drop him off at the babysitter, or worry about who will watch him Wednesday night when I’m at the Dorchester village board meeting. I’m also not finding so much stuff out of place at home. Toys are staying in their places. Pudding cups aren’t left at random around the house. The floors don’t even have as much dirt tracked in from outside.
Since he left Sunday after lunch, I’ve been trying to keep myself busy getting things done I wouldn’t normally be able to do (at least as efficiently). Sunday afternoon I took out the weed whacker and attacked some tall grass south of the house that I’ve been too scared to take the lawn mower through. A cement block won’t damage the trimmer nearly as much as the mower. I’d never run a weed whacker before Nate and I bought one a few weeks ago. I’m learning it can be very therapeutic.
When I was done I was even able to shower without a single interruption.
In the evening I treated myself to some peaceful shopping. OK, I admit it was just to Medford, but it was relaxing not having to chase a toddler through the aisles or worry about what expensive chunk of glass he might pull off the shelves. Monday evening I was able to get more flowers planted without needing to keep one eye on Jacob to make sure he didn’t wander too close to the road.
I almost feel a little guilty sometimes that I might not be missing him enough. But then it gets to be time for bed. Lately Jacob wants to snuggle with me or Nate before he drifts off to sleep. Not having him there at bed time has made both me and Nate miss him a lot. Still, I’m not going to feel too bad about enjoying my little vacation from motherhood. I have been calling my mom and dad’s house a couple times a day just to check up on the munchkin. Thus far, I’ve barely gotten a word out of him over the phone. The most response I’ve had was Monday night when my sister handed him the phone and asked if he wanted to talk to mom.
“No,” Jacob said. “I’m watching Sponge Bob.”
I see where I rank at Camp Grandma.
I am childless this week.
Once or twice a year, Jacob gets to go spend a week at “Camp Grandma.” He’s been doing it since he was about nine months old but I still can’t quite get over the shock of not having him around. The house is quiet when I come home at night. There’s no Sponge Bob theme song blaring, no sound of the toy box getting dumped in the middle of the living room floor and no commotion of kid and dog wrestling on the floor. (Typically, this ends with one of them crying, but then they are back at it 30 seconds later.) Speaking of the dog, even Lucy seems to be depressed. The pup has done little but sleep the entire time she’s in the house. Outside she seems bored. Or maybe she’s enjoying it.
As much as I miss Jacob this week, there is a certain freedom in his absence. On Monday I didn’t have to rush out of work to get him from day care before the deadline. I haven’t had to stop in Stetsonville to drop him off at the babysitter, or worry about who will watch him Wednesday night when I’m at the Dorchester village board meeting. I’m also not finding so much stuff out of place at home. Toys are staying in their places. Pudding cups aren’t left at random around the house. The floors don’t even have as much dirt tracked in from outside.
Since he left Sunday after lunch, I’ve been trying to keep myself busy getting things done I wouldn’t normally be able to do (at least as efficiently). Sunday afternoon I took out the weed whacker and attacked some tall grass south of the house that I’ve been too scared to take the lawn mower through. A cement block won’t damage the trimmer nearly as much as the mower. I’d never run a weed whacker before Nate and I bought one a few weeks ago. I’m learning it can be very therapeutic.
When I was done I was even able to shower without a single interruption.
In the evening I treated myself to some peaceful shopping. OK, I admit it was just to Medford, but it was relaxing not having to chase a toddler through the aisles or worry about what expensive chunk of glass he might pull off the shelves. Monday evening I was able to get more flowers planted without needing to keep one eye on Jacob to make sure he didn’t wander too close to the road.
I almost feel a little guilty sometimes that I might not be missing him enough. But then it gets to be time for bed. Lately Jacob wants to snuggle with me or Nate before he drifts off to sleep. Not having him there at bed time has made both me and Nate miss him a lot. Still, I’m not going to feel too bad about enjoying my little vacation from motherhood. I have been calling my mom and dad’s house a couple times a day just to check up on the munchkin. Thus far, I’ve barely gotten a word out of him over the phone. The most response I’ve had was Monday night when my sister handed him the phone and asked if he wanted to talk to mom.
“No,” Jacob said. “I’m watching Sponge Bob.”
I see where I rank at Camp Grandma.
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