Our cabin is located in Adams County, in central Wiconsin. The tiny, twin towns of Adams and Friendship are the nearest burgs and boast their own awesome local radio station.

K-106FM is a "clasic gold" format, which means that any "oldies" hits - from Barry Manilow to Def Leppard to Little Richard could be played any time. It makes for enjoyable listening and feels like having my own personal karaoke machine, because I, of course, know the words to virtually EVERY song they play.

There are a few locally-produced "specialty" shows that stray from this "Solid Gold" selection. The most noteable are the Thurday Night Polka Explosion (yes, this is really the name, it's Wisconsin, folks!) and, on Sunday evenings, perfectly timed for post-meal, dish-washing accompanyment, there is the Sunshine Polka Variety Show.

Last time we were up North, during the Sunshine Polka Variety Hour, I got kind of wound up, jamming along to a tune called "Beer and a Sandwich." My husband was chuckling, my daughter was mortified. And then, the trifecta: I began to emulate Fred Berry as Re-Run with my lively dance moves - until I suddenly lurched back in pain from an apparent groin pull!

I'm still sufferring the after-effects of my attempt at Fred-Berry-meets-Polka madness. In the interim, enjoy Fred (aka Re-Run) busting out in a pilot episode of What's Happening.

-Apparently the tacos were a hit - daughter reported that most kids took seconds and some even took (*gasp!*) fourths!

-Hubby is in Florida for a work-related trip this week. He left today. Unfortunately, kiddo is not done with school yet so we couldn't join him at the uber-awesome mega-reort where he is staying.

-Our weather has been rather severe - either it is insanely hot and humid or we're hiding in the basment dodging thunderstorms and tornados. Ah, summertime in the midwest...

- I have not been able to indulge in my fave wordgames on another website because some of my keyboard keys aren't working well - like " (quote) and 3 and s. I have to pound on them to get them to work!

- Next weekend we take an extended weekend (fri-Sun) to El Cabino, and then the following week we are up there from Fri night to Tuesday. Good times, good times...

- I got a semi-dirty joke forwarded via email (well, more silly than dirty) from one of my priest buddies again. Which, of course, makes the joke even funnier because of the irony of who sent it.

I have been busting my bucket on projects both here and in Wisconsin. Many of them have turned out quite well. I''ll post pics sometime soon.

My "project" for today is to shop for enough ingredients to make beef tacos for 48 second graders for their Mexican fiesta on Friday. I'll probably prepare the beef and seasoning tomorrow, and refrigerate it, then bake the meat & cheese in the shells Friday morning. I'll also take over some containers of toppings, like chopped onion, taco sauce, sour cream and shredded lettuce.

Ole!

One notable experience I have had since we bought the Wisconsin cabin is that I am becoming accostomed to and accepting of the sounds of...

...gunshots.

Its strange to think that I'd choose to leave the noise of traffic and instead sit outside with the sounds of shotguns, and sometimes even automatic weapons, going off in the surrounding forest and countryside.

Truly, I will admit, that last summer, when I first heard it, I began to have regrets about our purchase. It unnerved me.

But I did some reading, talked to hunters in my family, and began to learn that the shots were quite far off. And it takes only one drive down county highway C to see the scores of deer and turkey and realize that our little woodsy home is a hunter's paradise.

Almost everyone I have met up there, including the realtors who helped us buy our home, are both avid fishermen/women and hunters. And those who do hunt do it partly for sport, partly for food. That is, it is not so much to mount the head of a buck on the wall but to load up a freezer with (imo) delicous, organic game meats to last through the harsh winters. It is ingrained in much of Wisconsin culture. In fact, I had a friend in college, Wisconsin born and bred, who wrote his senior thesis on the subculture of Wisconsin deer hunting.

As a welcome to the neighborhood last year, one neighbor brought us some frozen venison filets from a deer he shot near our property. They were GOOD! (I marinade them in dijon mustard, soy, and olive oil before broiling or grilling them)

During the week, it is incredibly quiet up there, the only "loud" noises are the squawks of crows or blue jays. Weekends bring the sportsmen/women.

Last weekend during the afternoons, the sounds of gunshot rang through the air. The frequency of the shots led me to belive that a target range was set up in the shooter's yard for practice (or even just for fun.) I was still slightly rattled.

Then I recalled an image that set me at ease. I thought of Mr. Darcy and entourage (From Jane Austen'siconic Pride and Predjudice) at a shooting party on an estate in the English countryside in the 1800's.

How genteel! How "Lord-of-the-Manor!"

OK, maybe I will get used to those tell-tale popping sounds over time. But I know I'm not yet ready to be up North during full-fledged deer gun season (November). My neighbor who brought the filets noted that, "During gun season it sounds like the civil war up here!"
 
But there are truly serene moments, as evidenced by the pic below. This is my daughter last weekend, fishing on a secluded beach on Lake Petenwell:

Besides the wonderful weather and fresh air, likely the most wonderful part of our Wisconsin vacation was the sighting of incredible birds. Our friends, the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks were back at our sunflower seed feeder - both male and female.

But the biggest surprise was spying a male Amiercan Bluebird checking out a nesting box on an apple tree in the yard. I don't believe he actually chose to nest in the birdhouse, but he spent quite a bit of time flitting around the yard considering it. 

Although they are pictured often in artwork, cards, even wallpaper, I have never seen a bluebird "in person." The whole family enjoyed the thrill, and hubby ran to get the camera and take pictures.

Although they are almost "commonplace" up in Big Flats, while I was folding wash in my sunny laundry room, I spied a wild turkey hen jogging across the yard. I don't know why, but those turkeys always make me giggle!

We are heading to El Cabino in The Rockin' Van for the long weekend which is extended more than usual b/c the kiddo has Tuesday off. So, dad also took Tues off giving us all day Monday to enjoy the fresh Wisconsin air and NOT sit in the traffic jam on 90 heading back to Chicago.

I am completely bummed about how much gas is now. It really makes us re-think heading to the cabin just for weekends this summer.

Luckily unleaded is *slightly* cheaper across the border. Come to think of it, virtually EVERYTHING is cheaper than here in Crook, er, COOK County, Illinois.

Have an enjoyable weekend, everyone!

Thirty-five years ago, I remember sitting in our living room, uncertain of all the hullaballoo around me. My grandmother was taking care of me, so I remember being both thrilled and yet, again, uncertain.

Then I recall being told to si in an armchair as I was handed a cotton-swathed bundle that MOVED. The flashbulbs began popping away. I am sort of ashamed to report that a 4-year-old me was not very happy about that bundle being brought into the house.

Today is my middle sister's birthday. As children we were rivals, but as adults we are best friends. Happy birthday, Rachel!

I was tagged by Joe-to-Hell to complete a blog quiz/activity...and just in time to get me away from a rather grotesque theme that was beginning to develop here.

Here are the questions:

1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Locate the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences on your blog and in so doing...
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged me.

"Restauants will follow suit. As of yet, the famous 'restaurant renaissance' has not found its way north of City Hall. Maybe Steven Starr, great American restauranteur and owner of a dozen plush places in town, will expand his empire to NoBro. And then I can take Tom Ferrick Jr. there for a nice dinner."

This is from a book for Philadelphians - and more specifically, ex-pats like me and the author - called Walking Broad by Bruce Buschel.

Its an interesting, albeit somewhat depressing, tale that documents the author walking the length of a long Philadelphia street that crosses many different types of neighborhoods, and thus he encounters widely varying residents, economies, and aesthetics during his journey. The street is Broad Street - and the "NoBro" reference is North Broad - a section of town with some decent but many depressed areas adjacent to it.

I won't tag anyone but if you'd like to engage in this activity for some quasi-literary blog fodder, please be my guest!

This is a sad situation for the two children involved, but I had to post this "news of the weird" here because it has so many elements of interest to me.

First, this takes place in Necedah, not far from our Wisconsin cabin. Necedah is home to both the National Wildlife Refuge (home of the whooping cranes) AND the dubious "shrine", Queen of The Holy Rosary Mediatrix of Peace. I visited the shrine last year with my daughter out of curiosity; it is an, um, interesting place, for certain. You have to read the history of it to really get the full sense of what its all about. It is more or less cultish, and has been debunked by the Catholic church. Read their history via the link above - there are spaceships involved!

That said, the people in this news story who are noted as members of "Order of the Divine Will" are NOT formally associated with the Holy Rosary Shrine organization, although they have many beliefs in common.

So many elements of the story make no sense. How odd that there is not one but are two schismatic groups in this tiny town. And how stupid is it that these people, if their intent was to perpetrate fraud, wouldn't have simply buried the woman somewhere in the thousands of square miles of undisturbed forest and marshes that surround their community? I mean, if you are going to be a criminal, why stink up your house and ruin your only bathroom with a rotting corpse?! And THEN subject kids to all this nonsense? Oh, yeah, right, they are crazy cult members. That's the only plausible  explanation.

The elements that made this story tragi-comic were the fact that the complaint refered to the decaying body slumped on the toilet as a "pile" with a "horrific stench", that the "threat" against the kids was they would have to go to public school, and the odd phrasing by the writer that the home "smelled of incense and hymns playing on the stereo" - making it read as if the HYMNS smelled up the house!

Enjoy...

Remains Of Wis. Woman, 90, Found On Toilet

NECEDAH, Wis. (AP) ―

Someone continued to write checks on an account belonging to a 90-year-old woman whose remains were found on the toilet in a Necedah home two months after she died, according to court documents released Monday.

Prosecutors say Tammy Lewis kept Magdeline Alvina Middlesworth's remains in the bathroom of the home Lewis shared with her two children after the elderly woman died. Lewis has said her "superior," Alan Bushey, told her God would bring the woman back to life.

Detectives say they believe Middlesworth died March 4. Social Security and annuity checks totaling $2,790 were deposited directly into an account she shared with Lewis after that date, according to an affidavit for search warrants for the homes of Lewis and Bushey.

Twenty-five checks were written on the account after Middlesworth died. The affidavit does not say who wrote the checks or for how much.

Investigators seized checkbooks, bank records and other financial records from the two homes over the weekend, according to court documents.

Lewis told the deputy who found the body she has Middlesworth's power of attorney, and the older woman used all her money to support their six-member religious group, dubbed the Order of the Divine Will.

Lewis' son told detectives Bushey warned him that he and his sister would have to go to public school and get jobs if Middlesworth's body was found because she paid all the bills, according to a criminal complaint.

Juneau County District Attorney Scott Southworth declined Monday to say who wrote the checks. But he called the religious group a cult and said Bushey "absolutely" was the mastermind, luring people in with Roman Catholic doctrine and manipulating them for financial gain.

"That's not legitimate religious expression. That's cult activity. I'm certain people in Wisconsin can see the difference," Southworth said.

Middlesworth's friends and family told the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel she was from Washington state, but they were unsure who persuaded her to come to Wisconsin. Southworth said he didn't know where Middlesworth was from or how she came to live with Lewis.

Investigators weren't aware of Bushey's group until Middlesworth's body was found last week, Southworth said. Detectives aren't certain how many people are members but have learned some apparently got wise to Bushey about a year ago and left.

Lewis, 35, and Bushey, 57, each face two counts of causing a child mental harm. Lewis also faces a misdemeanor obstruction charge.

Neither has been charged with financial fraud, but Southworth said additional counts could come this week or next. He said he has been in touch with federal prosecutors, who would handle Social Security violations.

Sheriff Brent Oleson said Monday a state Justice Department agent would help with the case's financial aspects.

Online court records didn't list an attorney for Bushey. Lewis' attorney, Dan Berkos, asked Judge John P. Roemer during a hearing Monday for a competency evaluation for Lewis. Roemer agreed as Lewis, a thin woman with brown hair and glasses, dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

Berkos said afterwards he hadn't learned much about the case yet. The allegations play well in the media, he said, but "it's pretty easy to take shots" right now.

He took exception to Southworth branding the group a cult, saying almost any organized religion could be considered one.

"Clearly, there's some religious basis in what they did," Berkos said. "There's a lot of religions that don't believe in medical treatment."

Authorities discovered Middlesworth's body Wednesday after her sister asked the sheriff's department to check on her.

Deputy Leigh Neville-Neil went to Lewis' home in the town of Necedah, about 80 miles northwest of Madison. Lewis initially said Middlesworth was on vacation, but when pressed, she said she needed to call her "superior" first, the criminal complaint said. Lewis went inside, returned and let the deputy in. The house smelled of incense and hymns played on the stereo.

The deputy discovered Middlesworth's remains on the toilet. The complaint described the body as a "pile" with a "horrific stench."

Lewis told investigators Bushey, who also goes by Bishop John Peter, told her to leave Middlesworth's body in the bathroom and pray for God to bring her back to life.

Lewis' son told detectives Bushey told him demons were destroying Middlesworth's appearance to make it look like she wouldn't rise from the dead, the complaint said.

The sheriff has said those in the Lewis home had been using "makeshift" toilet facilities because of the situation in the one bathroom.

(warning: yet another bodily function post!)

For many years in the U.S., American Catholic kids who attended public schools often turned to their parishes to provide religious education, usually referred to (sometimes incorrectly) as "CCD." My daughter attended religion classes at my parish for two years, beginning in kindergarden. She always seemed to enjoy it, as the classroom learning was supplemented with kid-friendly crafts, games, and songs. I always made sure she did her homework which never raised any objections from her.

This year, my parish made a radical change in "faith formation" education by eliminating all grade-level religion classes. Instead, the education model is "Intergenerational Chatechesis" - or basically all-ages learning sessions.

Without getting into a discussion of my feelings (or that of my peers and our children) about the new programming, I merely wish to introduce this notion, as it impacts the rest of the story.

The format of the once-per-month sessions is that the families (a group numbering around 200 people per session) gather together prior to the "learning" portion of the session to "share a meal." The meal is provided for us, although we never know what type of food we are going to get. On the whole, most of the food has been pretty good. But, with my kooky, unpredictable g.i. tract, eating and then being expected to engage in activites in a large group for another 2.5 hours is nervewracking.

The meal portion is "required" for attendees, and since we are attending immediately following Mass, we are all usually quite hungry (as we are expected to fast at least one hour prior to Mass.)

I was exceptionally hungry tonight. And of course, they fed us hot dogs, Italian beef sandwiches, chips and sodas.

Despite the tastiness of these Chicago-style delicacies, there is one MAJOR problem with this sort of meal combo: it REALLY give you GAS!! If the hot dog or beef sandwich (with "sport peppers" and pickled veggies known as gardiniera) doesn't repeat on you continually, then the soda you washed it down with will surely get the burps a-poppin'!

Instead of our typical post-meal learning session in the classrooms, tonight the planners organized a liturgy of reflection on the topics we have studied thus far. So that meant we were to sit (and stand, and sit and stand - we are Catholics - we do the pew olympics every week!) for an hour and a half. All the while that hot dog, diet pepsi and beef sandwich (I told you I was hungry!) was churning away in my guts, fermenting into some sort of witches brew in my duodenum. At one point, thankfully while sitting, I felt the first wave of gurgles make their way lower down the tract and *whoops!*

I had to clench it in as casually as I could. I was sandwiched between two people in the pew so I could not exit quietly and wait out the prayer session in the safety of the ladies' room. My daughter was sitting with my friend's son a few rows ahead. I turned to my friend and whispered, "Oh no, that dinner is giving me gas!"

She rejoined, "Ugh, me too!"

And with that we both began clutching our guts, in what would be a futile attempt to calm the inner workings of our church-bound bodies. The true test of my butt-stifling arrived when we were forced to stand and sing a hymn - not just one but all three verses!

Finally the service ended, I gathered up my daughter and our coats and we beelined to the car. As I hustled my daughter out the door, I shared, "Oh man, we have to hurry, I have such bad gas and had to hold it in the whole time we were in church!"

"Mom, me too! I had to hold in farts at least two times," she countered.

Finally getting into the car, the seatbelts clicked, doors locked, I heard the mightiest chain of windbreaking eminating from my little gal in the backseat!  A few blocks down the road, the spirit moved me - or at least the spirit of processed meats! - and I let go of those "tensions" that were causing me so much worry moments earlier.

The closing hymn used in the service had the following lyrics:

"I send you out, on a mission of love
I send you out, on a mission of love,
I send you out, on a mission of love,
and know that I am with you always,
until the end of the world."

My progeny and I, now relieved, began singing it, but with our own altered lyrics:

I send you out, like a blast of hot gas,
I send you out, like a blast of hot gas,
I send you out, like a blast of hot gas,
and know that it is really stinky,
'cause it came out of my ass!