First of all, I have to thank Vera, optician at Gunderson Eye Clinic in Tomah, WI. She saved the day by putting a temporary patch on the frame of my sun glasses. No way could I drive without them. When I got out of the car to check out what use to be the “Bad Axe Cemetery” – it is now signed as the St. Patrick Parish Cemetery – my glass literally fell off my face. The left ear piece just came off. No, not the screw, but the arm was glued to the “spring-out” assembly, and that glue gave up. Vera fixed it so it would get me home by putting a shrink wrap tube over the hinge and arm, shrank it, and it’s fine. Can’t fold the arm, but they sit on my face just face.
I miss my dog. According to Ellen and Libbie she missed me, also. I was talking on the phone to my old friend, Jim Hicks, today, and he recalled a Dawg story from many years ago. While her “name” was Nikki Dog on her papers, we called her Dawg. Jim and I were messing around the Davis Mountains in West Texas, and on a back road we found ourselves suddenly in the middle of a bunch of cows being moved from one pasture to another. Literally the truck sitting in the middle of the road was surrounded by cows. Dawg awoke (or we woke her), and when she saw the cows she literally went bonkers. She hated cows. Dawg, a toy fox terrier, weighed all of 9 lbs, and had been known to chase cows out of the yards when I lived at the Paisano Ranch in Austin. We called her our “cattle guard.”
I saw something I’ve never seen until today – an Amish riding a horse with a western saddle. I swear he had on cowboy boots. Lots of Amish in Central Wisconsin.
Very late in the afternoon, I drove to find the Fish Cemetery (no signage, therefore no picture). I had made it as far as Portage, WI, gotten a room for the night, but decided to drive up to see if there was an image to be had. It was located about 30 miles north. It was too late when I realized that I had become trapped in a lane closure situation on Interstate 39 due to repaving. What I don’t understand is why they have to close such long expanses of the highway when working on a project. The lane closure was for just about the entire length of roadway from the motel to the cemetery exit. What should have been a 25 minute drive took almost an hour.
I did find one cemetery that had a sign – the Inch Cemetery.
I miss my dog. According to Ellen and Libbie she missed me, also. I was talking on the phone to my old friend, Jim Hicks, today, and he recalled a Dawg story from many years ago. While her “name” was Nikki Dog on her papers, we called her Dawg. Jim and I were messing around the Davis Mountains in West Texas, and on a back road we found ourselves suddenly in the middle of a bunch of cows being moved from one pasture to another. Literally the truck sitting in the middle of the road was surrounded by cows. Dawg awoke (or we woke her), and when she saw the cows she literally went bonkers. She hated cows. Dawg, a toy fox terrier, weighed all of 9 lbs, and had been known to chase cows out of the yards when I lived at the Paisano Ranch in Austin. We called her our “cattle guard.”
I saw something I’ve never seen until today – an Amish riding a horse with a western saddle. I swear he had on cowboy boots. Lots of Amish in Central Wisconsin.
Very late in the afternoon, I drove to find the Fish Cemetery (no signage, therefore no picture). I had made it as far as Portage, WI, gotten a room for the night, but decided to drive up to see if there was an image to be had. It was located about 30 miles north. It was too late when I realized that I had become trapped in a lane closure situation on Interstate 39 due to repaving. What I don’t understand is why they have to close such long expanses of the highway when working on a project. The lane closure was for just about the entire length of roadway from the motel to the cemetery exit. What should have been a 25 minute drive took almost an hour.
I did find one cemetery that had a sign – the Inch Cemetery.
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