by jphilo | May 7, 2015 | Three Thoughts for Thursday
- Katie Wetherbee, with whom I co-authored Every Child Welcome, is absolutely hilarious as her 5 Facts for Friday blog posts show. You can get a chuckle every Friday by becoming her friend on Facebook where she goes by Katie Livingston Wetherbee.
- You can die on Mars. Or you can live in South Dakota is the state’s new tourism slogan. Having lived in the remotest part of that great state for 7 years, I applaud the tourism board’s honesty. Still, they might want to tinker with the wording…or even the entire campaign concept…in the near future.
- As a third grader, I heard Chuck Mertes, a sixth grader working on a science project with my big sister, say that in millions of years the Earth would crash into the sun and burn up. That tidbit gave me nightmares for weeks. But apparently, my childhood fear has been quite literally laid to rest as I didn’t lose a minute’s sleep when NASA allowed a satellite to crash into Mercury last week. Sometimes, growing older is a good thing.
by jphilo | Mar 6, 2015 | Out and About
This week’s Fantastic Friday post was requested by a rellie. As you will see, the post explains very well why the Man of Steel felt like we lived on the edge of the world during our seven years in northwest South Dakota. BTW Gary, this is one of my favorite posts ever!
A recent entry at Justin Taylor’s blog Between Two Worlds almost blew my socks off. He quoted from a blog entry by Stephen Von Worley. Von Worley was contemplating the McDonaldization of America and decided to locate the farthest point from an Mc Donalds in the contiguous United States. Here’s what he found:
As expected, McDonald’s cluster at the population centers and hug the highway grid. East of the Mississippi, there’s wall-to-wall coverage, except for a handful of meager gaps centered on the Adirondacks, inland Maine, the Everglades, and outlying West Virginia.
For maximum McSparseness, we look westward, towards the deepest, darkest holes in our map: the barren deserts of central Nevada, the arid hills of southeastern Oregon, the rugged wilderness of Idaho’s Salmon River Mountains, and the conspicuous well of blackness on the high plains of northwestern South Dakota. There, in a patch of rolling grassland, loosely hemmed in by Bismarck, Dickinson, Pierre, and the greater Rapid City-Spearfish-Sturgis metropolitan area, we find our answer.Between the tiny Dakotan hamlets of Meadow and Glad Valley lies the McFarthest Spot: 107 miles distant from the nearest McDonald’s, as the crow flies, and 145 miles by car! Suffer a Big Mac Attack out there, and you’re hurtin’ for certain! For a coupla hours, at least, unless graced by the tender blessings of “manna from heaven” – that is, a fast food air drop from the Medi-Copter.
So what’s the big deal? Those “tiny hamlets of Meadow and Glad Valley” were part of our old South Dakota stomping grounds. Our personal hamlet, Camp Crook, was about 75 miles straight west of Meadow, much tinier than the McFarthest spot, and didn’t have nearly as many paved roads.
What were we doing for the first three precarious years of Allen’s life, living so far from civilization? Answer: We didn’t know how bad we had it. Like Stephen Von Worley, we thought the most isolated part of the United States was far, far away in the rugged west, not in our back yard.
If we had known the truth, would we have skedaddled sooner than we did? Maybe, but as Hiram said when he read the report, “There we were on the edge of nowhere and look at the support we received from the people.” Maybe they supported us because they weren’t distracted by civilization – McDonalds and movies and shopping malls and inconsequentials – and had time to prop up two bewildered young parents day after difficult day.
Whatever the reasons, when I think of our seven years near the McFarthest Spot and the way the far flung community rallied round us, the truth is evident. During those years we didn’t leave civilization. We found it.
If you have a favorite post you’d like to see featured on Fantastic Friday, leave a comment in the box below.
by jphilo | Jun 9, 2014 | Mystery Update
Oh, my! Can it possibly be nearly 2 months since the last Run, Jane, Run! mystery novel update? According to this blog’s archives, the answer is yes…and it’s about time you do something about it, sluggard. To be clear, I’m the sluggard, not you, dear reader. Even so, would you please accept the picture of the school above, in a town much like the fictional town of Little Missouri, as consolation?
First, a confession.
As you may remember, Jane and I have a standing date to work on the manuscript every Friday afternoon. But, because of travel to a special needs ministry conference and an Easter visit to see relatives, I stood up Jane twice in April. Thankfully, she was most understanding and forgiving.
Because I wrote her that way.
And, she’s such an interesting character, it was impossible to stay away from her more than that. Which means Run, Jane, Run! is trotting along at a fine pace. The rough draft sits at 54,000 and is about 3/4 complete. The reason for the bachelor rancher’s disappearance is unfolding with startling fury.
The plot thickens…like water and cornstarch coming to a boil.
Jane has been sticking her nose in places a school teacher’s nose has no right to be. She learned to milk a cow, process it in a cream separator, feed chickens, and gather eggs. She flirted with one rancher on to lead him on, argued with another to put him in his place, stole from the neighbors, won a footrace with a bull, and aided and abbetted a transporting a criminal across state lines and over the border.
How’s she gonna get out of a mess like that?
I’m not quite sure, but she’s a resourceful woman and will make it happen in a most spectacular way. Even though the leg she skewered on a barbed wire fence and the arm she held steady for the tetanus shot is killing her. Even though she has no idea how to slip the stolen goods to their rightful owners. Even though parent-teacher conferences are a week away, and she hasn’t averaged grades or completed a single report card. She’ll make it happen because she’s a school teacher, and you know what they say: the life of a school teacher is a succession of spectacular moments.
Ain’t that the truth!
by jphilo | Sep 20, 2013 | Out and About
Today’s my last day in Harding County’s wide open spaces. The weather’s been spectacular, old friends have been more than welcoming, and the students I worked with Tuesday and yesterday were delightful. The kids shared their perspectives about life on the short grass prairie, which enabled me to see the county with their young eyes. Hopefully, those perspectives will ooze into my mystery novel and make this place come alive for readers.
But who wants to wait until the mystery is published (if it’s ever published) to get a feel for this place? Certainly not me! So here’s a sneak peek at what the kids, ages 8–12, say needs to be in a book to show readers what makes Harding County Harding County.
- So many people come during hunting season, my dad makes me wear bright colors whenever I’m outside.
- The wind.
- There are tractors and hay bales everywhere.
- Our county history makes this place what it is, especially Tipperary Arena and the statue of Tipperary, the bucking horse.
- Cattle wander and disappear into other people’s pastures, and we have to go find them.
- Small towns.
- The huge, flat places.
- The buttes.
- It’s tough to live here, especially during a drought.
- Horses and rodeos.
- People trail cattle right across the highway.
How in the world can all that be worked into one mystery novel? It may be an impossible task. Which means it’s time to think about a long series. Hmmm.
by jphilo | Sep 17, 2013 | Top Ten Tuesday
I’ve been in Harding County 2 days, just long enough to get settled and remember what there is to love about this immense country. Here’s my top ten list so far.
10. Wi-Fi works, but cell phones don’t. Heaven for someone who prefers email to phone.
9. You get to town, stop at the service station for a potty break and to buy postcards, and the cashier invites you to a surprise birthday party for an old friend.
8. You arrive at the birthday party, and it’s like you never left. Except the former student hosting the party is now the teacher at the same school where she was once your student. She’s also the sister-in-law of the cashier who invited you to the party.
7. The 3 1/2 year old granddaughter at your host’s ranch becomes your tour guide…opens gates, teaches you to pet a calf, and shows you baby kitties.
6. The same little girl gets bored when she’s not outside running the ranch instead of when the battery dies in a video game.
5. Little girls wear cowboy boots with spurs…and purple highlights.
4. The speed limit is 75 mph on the interstate and 65 mph on two-lane roads.
3. You call old friends on a land line, and everything works out to visit them.
2. No rattlesnake sightings…so far.
1. You climb a hill and you really can see forever.
