Happy New Year! I was on the top of the world looking down on creation being mesmerized by the beauty beneath me. As often as I fly, I still get a thrill looking at untapped, unpopulated land. While traveling from Montana, where we were with family over Christmas, I snapped this photo before landing in Denver, CO.

The picture reminds me of one of my favorite verses in the book of Psalm. “The heavens’ declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows his handiwork. Day unto day utters speech, and night unto night reveals knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard” Psalm 19: 1-3.

The language we all have in common is the language of nature. It inspires us to treasure each day as we focus on harvesting the many gifts and skills our creator has given us. What passions do you have? Is it art, music, photography, sewing, knitting, building, or helping others be a better version of themselves. Each day speaks! Are you listening? Each night reveals knowledge. Are you learning? How does the beauty of nature inspire you? Remember, there is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. It’s the cement that brings us together regardless of our backgrounds. Be inspired in 2020.

I was intrigued by the life of Fred Rogers after reading about him in the Tribune Magazine section. Here’s a man who drank hot cranberry juice in the morning instead of coffee, he swam, played the piano and was an ordained minister using his talents to inspire children.
I invited our neighbors to see the movie with us on Thanksgiving Friday, 2019. I expected to be somewhat bored with a children’s movie. But I was so wrong. Fred Rogers, played brilliantly by Tom Hanks, opened the door to his studio and hung up his jacket, put on his tennis shoes and sweater. Then he proceeded to open a box with a picture of a man who had been punched in the face. The topic was forgiveness.
The movie then takes us to the life of hard-nosed Equire journalist, Lloyd Vogel, who was assigned the task of writing about Fred Rogers. He’s hoping to find some dirt on his life. But Fred notices the wound on his nose and eventually finds out it was the result of a fight he had with his father at his sister’s wedding. Fred Rogers skillfully gets to the heart wound that has plagued Lloyd since his mother’s death. The movie shows us how to live life. I highly recommend seeing it. Here are a few tips..

1. Focus on the moment and the immediate person you are talking to. Show love and respect for that person. 2. Take time to just be silent. In the movie, we were silent for a minute.3. Remember what it was like to be a child. He asked Lloyd what his favorite animal was as a child. 4.Find creative ways to defuse anger. 5. Practice forgiveness.

We have a teenage couple with an adorable baby staying with us. She is the best baby ever. She wakes up and looks out the window and coos. She rarely cries, but gets so excited when she sees her bottle. One day I waited in the car while her mother went into Aldis to get baby supplies. She was in the carrier behind me, and behold she started to cry. It was so rare to hear her fuss, I knew something had to be wrong. I hopped in the back seat to see what caused her turmoil. It was the first time she had worn a hat. It was a bit big and had slipped down covering her face. I gently pulled it up so she could see again and then she smiled with relief.

Isn’t that the way life is for us? We try to be strong and brave but then sometimes the trials of life cover our eyes and we are terrified because we cannot see. We are blinded with no direction. But if we turn to God, he makes our path clear. “The path of the just is as a shining light, that shines more and more until the perfect day.” Proverbs 4:18.

As the days grow shorter and leaves turn brilliant colors, our minds travel to the holiday season— a time to gather with family and friends. For us, music has been the glue uniting our family and friends in one accord. It began with my mother, Alice Gram, who was the only one in her family of thirteen to go to college. She became a music teacher. Her father, Anton Berge, sold four cows to send her to Milwaukee State Teachers’ College, currently University of Wisconsin, Milwaukee. She would play lullabies on the piano for my sister and me while we drifted off to sleep. My older brother, Bill, has a voice like Frank Sinatra. My memories are filled with mom playing the piano and Bill and his friends gathered around the piano singing the latest musicals. Our home was filled with the warmth of music. The love of music has been handed down through the generations.

I grew up playing the piano and singing in various choruses at church and school. My three children all played the piano and other instruments. I gave, Deborah, my oldest child, piano lessons. Getting her to practice was like getting a fish to swim in water.  She loved playing and quickly excelled in not only piano but violin. I sat next to her on the piano bench as she was playing a beautiful classical piece. Suddenly, we were interrupted by a loud boom that shook the house. We looked at one another and  said, “Daddy’s Home”. Yes, Larry had pulled into our down-sloped driveway and missed putting it in park, being new to an automatic transmitter. Now the van was on a run away course as it quickly picked up speed. “My first instinct was to try to stop it,” said Larry.  “But I soon realized  tangling with a flying van was not going to make me the winner. I watched helplessly; but fortunately, a newly planted evergreen slowed down the van’s momentum and it clipped the side of our attached garage with a two foot gash in the wall.” Being a builder/carpenter at the time, Larry cleverly turned the gash into a plant holder. It ended up being a life lesson for the family. Turn your lemons into lemonade.

Deb and I often laugh about this memory. She is currently a music teacher at Headwaters Academy in Bozeman, Montana, and additionally has 45 various students sitting on her piano bench at her private home studio. I sure hope some hot shot doesn’t crash into the side of her home.

Enjoy the fall and the coming holiday season. Fill you home with music, the great connector. God has wired us to enjoy music. “Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet, praise him with the harp and lyre, praise him with timbrel and dancing—-Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.” Psalm 150: 3-6

Dressed in his lumberjack outfit and sporting a helmet Larry comes to the aid of a wheelchair bound man with MS to cut down a dead tree that rests precariously over another tree and very close to a fence. It has to be cut down strategically. Larry surveys the situation and ties it down .

Our neighbor, his wife and I held our breath while Larry made his slice. The tree was very dry and fell immediately. “Timber” Now they don’t have to worry about it coming down in a storm, and we have more wood for our wood-burning stove.

Over the years, I have volunteered Larry to help our many friends and neighbors because as a former contractor and Industrial Arts teacher, he has developed so many skills. Larry has cut down dead trees in our yard and has the equipment to do it correctly. Plus, he has a heart to help others. He has an acting faith in God, and believes strongly in “Faith without Works is dead.” James 2:14. We remember what it was like to struggle financially. We never forget those who helped us while we were struggling. Another verse we try to live by is the following, “Value others above yourself, not looking to your own interests but to the interests of others.” Philippians 2:4.

Have you ever left something important behind while traveling? How did you handle your problem? It was the 5th Anniversary of our book club’s summertime get-away. I meticulously packed my suitcase for our two night escape to beautiful Lake Arrowhead in Central Wisconsin, 4 hours away. I had all my bags ready to pack in my van. I stopped by Michele’s house to pick her up and put her things in the back of the van. We excitedly made our way to Renee’s house where we transferred our things. Renee loves to drive and she is like Dustin Hoffman in the movie Rainman—–an excellent driver. After our 4 hour drive talking non-stop, we finally made it to Chris’s summer home at Lake Arrowhead. I ran into her house to use the bathroom while they unpacked the car. Renee said that’s it—everything is out of the car. “What,” I said. “It can’t be. My suitcase is not here.” “It’s all out of the car,” she said again. My glee at having arrived quickly evaporated to depression. How could I have left my suitcase behind? Yes, I put it behind the passenger seat not the normal place. As I was figuring out how I could live in my current clothes for two days. My friends quickly piped up. “Sue,” we will take care of you. ” That is exactly what they did. I got night clothes and a tennis skirt and top from Chris. I got a lovely blouse to wear on our evening out from Michele. Then there were jeans and a necklace from Annette. I got two pairs of shoes, toothpaste/brush and most importantly makeup from Cleora. With a sigh of relief, I could enjoy the two day extravaganza planned for us. At least, I had my food contribution and I gave the book club sisters a chance for a hearty laugh. Never have I loved them more as they offered me more clothes than I ever could have worn. “A true friend is always loyal, and a brother/sister is born to help in times of need.” Proverbs 17:17. Now I don’t recommend leaving your suitcase home, but I didn’t miss the lack of clothes to wash when I got home. This is not a lifewithlarry.org story, it’s life with Sue! See the next entry of another lifewithlarry.org blog that happened when I got back home.

Will we be home today? Maybe once I get Larry up and moving. But Larry deserves much rest. We went to a wedding in Colorado Springs on our way home from visiting our kids and grandkids in Montana. We met a sweet Hispanic couple who flew into Denver for the wedding instead of Colorado Springs. They took a train and then a taxi which cost them $160. When they told us of their dilemma, Larry offered to take them from Colorado Springs to the Denver airport, an hour away. But not only did Larry drive them to the airport to return to Chicago, but he had to get up at 4:45 AM to get them to their flight. Now Larry is not a fan of early mornings. So sleep Larry, sleep and get us home today. In addition, he changed a flat tire for a young boy while instructing him about how to change a tire, and just as we finished helping the boy, we see another elderly gentleman on the campus of the Air Force Academy where we were camping, examining his flat tire. We ended up taking him home. We may never make it to our house today if he sees others in distress. But I do love the man I married years ago on July 6th.

We are getting ready to head to Montana to see our family and friends. A unique culture exists in Montana like none other. Here’s an example. Larry bought a kit at Cabellas for making his own beef jerky. He spent an afternoon making some pretty tasty jerky for our hikes. We eagerly looked forward to a family reunion. Our son, Aaron, rented a newly built rustic cabin tucked away in the woods and surrounded by rivers, hiking trails, and the Crazy mountain range beckoning us to adventure. The spacious Bennett Cabin outside of Clyde Park in Montana is a work of art. Its sturdy 80 year old logs are accented with green cedar shingles. It’s very reasonable to rent since it’s devoid of plumbing which means a 2 AM run to the outhouse.

Aaron and his wife Lynelle climbed out of their van with our three energetic grandsons August, Jasper, Isaac and their trusty chocolate lab, Gracie. Family fun would now begin. But it didn’t take long for Gracie to discover a strange substance she enjoyed chewing. She also rolled into some foul smelling pond and only a bath in the nearby stream could get rid of the stench.

We shared Larry’s delicious beef jerky with the family while hiking along the stream. But after a half hour or so we were stopped by fallen trees that were the result of a June tornado that swept through the area. That evening, we came across a visitors’ journal describing their time at the cabin. We were told to look for a fantastic view of the stars, a visiting owl, and an occasional bear sighting. But what caught our attention the most was an entry from the previous week. It went something like this.

Entry 7/8. We were sitting around enjoying coffee and conversation when a very polite forest service man informed us that our serene time was coming to an end. A downed tree caused by a tornado killed a cow and now they, meaning the forest service, were going to have to deal with it. Yes, they were waiting for an expert to arrive from Bozeman who would help them with the situation as a resident bear had discovered the beast which made it unsafe for cabin residents like us. More trucks began to arrive— some seven or eight of them donned with helmets and chain saws as they cut through the tree. They then covered our cabin windows with plywood and asked us to park the cars behind the cabin suggesting we take a hike. We went toward Target rock over fallen trees not knowing what to expect. Soon an explosion ripped across the mountain—-an earth shattering and auditory resound of military impact. What we were hearing was the sound of an exploding cow. An exploding cow! It took a legend to blow up one single cow. There was enough gusto to take down a herd of cows. Any resident bears must have fled completely out of the Crazies for good——with need of therapy. We went back to our cabin and were greeted by a considerate and good humored forest service employee informing us that the danger was now over. I felt it was my duty to walk to the gate where the deed was done to investigate. The dirt road was strewn with clumps of red meat the size of salmon servings and flies were swarming in mass. The smell was prehistoric. I was witness to something that looks simple, but is complex. Now little critters will nibble the bits. As for bears—the therapy continues.

Now we understood why Gracie was having such a feast. The mysterious substance was nothing other than—Montana beef jerky. Her last treat resembled a cow’s ear—Yuk! Coming from Illinois and chewing our own beef jerky, we knew we were witness to the aftershocks of an event done only Montana style.

Today we will gather at a home on the Fox River for light snacks and a discussion of our latest book by Mark Sullivan’s, Beneath A Scarlet Sky. Our favorite genre has been historical fiction, books about World War II. Considering that today, June 6th, is the anniversary of D-Day— it’s appropriate. One of our members recalls her German grandmother having two pictures on her dresser—-one a nephew in a German uniform and the other her son, in a US uniform. They looked so much alike, it was hard to distinguish them one from another.

A book club is a fascinating way to learn about your group and to share history with one another. We are tuned into one another’s lives throughout the month even though we only get together once a month. We even have a member over seas in Sydney, Australia who reads the same books we do and writes wonderful reviews.

Here is one she wrote for our book club today—straight from Sydney. Spoiler Alert.

Pino Lello, what an amazing man and what an amazing life. Being a huge Historical Fiction fan, I loved this book.

I kept having to remind myself Pino is still alive, while I sat clutching the book tightly, as Pino once again eluded death or capture.

Also, to my shame, I knew very little about this part of WW11, I knew Mussolini was a tyrant and he ended up being hung, I have seen those terrible photos.

But I was unaware of the dreadful toll put on the Italians by the Nazi’s and the fascist fighters.

While the writing of Mark Sullivan didn’t thrill me at times, I think he took poetic license to a new level at some points knowing the fact that Italian history is well documented.

I was so happy to read what had happened to the rest of Pino’s friends and family, at the end of the book, it was also a really good way to tie the book up in a neat fashion.

I was devastated when Anna was murdered and wonder what Pino’s later life would have been like if she had lived??? Did anyone else wonder about that? I feel he was so in love with her that he wasn’t ever going to get a love to match it. I found it interesting that so many of the other characters received awards after the war for the but not Pino.

The author, Mark Sullivan, is from Bozeman, Montana where my daughter lives and where my son used to live. He now lives in Livingston, on the other side of the mountain pass. But his art work is at the Montana Trails Gallery—www.aaronschuerr.com. I am hoping to meet the author while I’m visiting my children and grandchildren.