Saturday, December 23, 2017

Christmas Eve dinner tonight; Annual cookie baking; Trombonic introductions; New Helt in town; Does it rime?




Dee came home with a load of holiday groceries
and placed a solidly-frozen prize at my feet.

Our approaching Xmas Eve dinner
- King Crab -
is to be one of my favorite delicacies,
my partner/34 years wife joyfully said.


^,^

ANNUAL COOKIE BAKING



Dee and Cathy again embark on their cheery baking
this time at the Odd Fellows hall.




Cathy mouthes a Xmas Carol between bites.








Was is a bird?

No, it WAS a reindeer.








The event culminated with a carry-out fish dinner from Tallinger's on Sunset
brought in by Ed, Cathy's husband.  Scrumptuous!



^,^

Yesteryear:


This photo from a much earlier cookie baking
at DeGroot's
















^,^

trombonic introductions
with plunger

and a reference to Frank Sinatra

Mnozl Brass



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egHWqEDlHuk

and





https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYRMbj6U2Ww



^,^


NEW HELT IN TOWN

Born 12-18-17

to Aaron and Sarah Helt
the second grandchild of John and Cindy Helt
Bayview WI


Lyda Frances

The name is chosen from Lyda's mother's family.

It has nothing we know of to do with this
old favorite 'Lyda Rose' from the Broadway musical THE MUSIC MAN
but we will be thinking of it anyway.

A GREAT NAME !

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLEEGnA8vQ8









Dad, Grandpa and Lyda

"....to get the sun back in the sky"





Wentworth Ave Bayview Xmas house this year
(with SRN trailer hitch liberties taken)



^,^

Does it rime?



In many ways 2017 was a year that never was
for the Waukesha Sewer Raccoon News.

We lift a year-end glass to approaching 2018
and wish everyone including ourselves
WELL

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year






Saturday, December 16, 2017

A gaudy butterfly laid me, on a milkweed leaf she laid me; Unusual Christmas bird in the neighborhood; Tough sledding; OK




A GaudButterfly Laid Me

On a milkweed leaf she laid me
with no great hope of my success,
for I was just one of a hundred eggs
she deposited,
flitting, pausing, flitting, pausing,
my mother's abdomen arching
each time and putting us down;
we pinheads were merely something
that made her feel good
or the result of an act that did;
or not even that;
I don't know and will never know.

I ate my full engorgement of clean furrows
in the white-juiced leaves until I grew
to a fat temptation for predators
that eat the likes of me,
but the numbers had it
that I was one of the few who survived,
never got picked off in the hard
mandibles of life.

No,
my disappointment was different;
I spun my waxy cocoon
according to pattern
and then, alas, instead of the transformation,
the metanoia,
I had my beauty taken from me
and my capsule gradually
turned black,
and as I lay dying inside,
rotting into a fetid inkiness,

a monarch's striving nature
nonetheless living still,
my little strength merged to
poke a pinhole in the bottom
of my enbindment, and by dint
of waning force I dripped this
message onto the leaf below,
and that is how you come
to read a distillation of all
I was ever to become,

 a quotation, nothing more, but by a higher power than I:
What we have to be
Is what we are - Thomas Merton

                                  [David Dix 7/06]



Dee and I were there, Gethsemene, KY Trappistary

^,^

Unusual Christmas bird
perched outside of Studebaker Garage
W. Main St. Waukesha in Dec. 2014




^,^

Earthly Present-Meager Christmas, 1943
but dressed up for the picture for Lt. Col. LV Dix







^,^





*Due to busy project scheduling
and a PC problem in addition
the Raccoon is abbreviated today.

We will be back next week
with a fuller menu.

Thoughts, inspirations flow...
Stew Tolbert, ATTN:



Friday, December 15, 2017

Saturday, December 9, 2017

Mexican manger juxtaposed on andiron welding, with candlewax; ~ Merry Christmas ~ ; Seed; Seed man; + Good seed catalog; Starry starry night; What a crock



We have chosen our Christmas card
for this year.  The postal service reaps benefits again.

The subject has a small inexpensive (scrap?) wooden likely peasant-made
Mexican manger scene standing atop a heavy cut-steel andiron 
modified by the welder into  a candle holder.  
Real melted wax is included in the image.

The fireplace cast iron remnant weighs a ton.
But the simple manger scene is as a matchbox comparatively.
Light as a feather.

To us, a proper heavy and weightless theme for this Yule.

^,^

A greeting card from another year:
Raccoon Christmas card from friends Tom and Malena Koplin 2009



^,^



In a related shape
an old faded gourd
painted blue as a tree ornament
got accidentally cast off at curbside
with the drying discard.

It was found by a squirrel
and dug into in a curious spiral
 - round redounds -
until the marauder found its treasure -
edible tasty seeds.





^,^


Hank White Owl Waschow
friend since the 1950s at high School
was a Native American aficionado.

b. 1936 d. 2010 
my age

We stayed in touch over the years.
We had many adventures at WHS
including the short-lived  Gruvna Club.
Readers, see former 1954 classmate Carol Lombardi re that

When Dee and I planned to marry, 11-11-83
White Owl Hank provided the elements
of worship, which were readily adapted
by our cleric friend Rev. John Helt UCC.

Helt, recently retired as a pastor has remained
our close friend also for years.



Seedman Hank












^,^


More on seeds


Dee got this very worth $19. seed catalog in the mail this week.



Rear cover page


Page 3 inside front


Page 2 inside the front 

^,^

Starry starry night









^,^


What a crock






Diminishing Returns
From the Spring
Waukesha Mineral Water
Sixty years ago 
- 70 YEARS NOW -

I was sent to the Silurian Spring vestige
Weekly, to get water bubbling up from the ground
Through a plain pipe;
No finialed, turreted monuments around then,
No platformed exotic encirclements
 No delicate parasols, in the after-days;
But for the history keepers to thankfully tell us,
- See below footnote -
Gone is the heraldry of Waukesha
As the vaunted Saratoga of the West,
The intricate and ornate vaultings,
 Carves and turnings
The Victorian porticos
 Resort and spa hostelries
Drawing Chicagoans, New Yorkers,
By railroad
To the little Waukesha Wisconsin’s
Painted depot boards
All splintered and demolished by hasty people
In a hurry for advancing modernity
Where celebrity and gossamer
 Once lavishly held forth;
After
Lofty and mystical spring names
Like Almanaris, Arcadian, Bethesda,
Clysmic, Fountain Crescent,
 Horeb, Hygeia, Mineral Rock,
Orchard, Roxo, Silurian, Solarian,
 White Rock

diminished into antiquity
like the detritus of
a briefly upswept vortex,
soiled newspapers and flyers
scattered, blown by a departed train
The hefty claims for the curative properties
Of Waukesha spring water were de-claimed;
No longer did wealthy foreigners
Disembark at the town train depots for
Halcyon days of taking the cures
In charming, unlike anywhere else
 Waukesha surroundings;
It was indeed something different to come here
Even sometimes sitting in big tubs
Having also poison-sucking Waukesha mud
(Yes, even our mud)
 packed to their chins by freshly-clad nurse attendants
  while sipping the mystical, magical
And ever-tendered
Waukesha Water
Bearing labels of be-gauzied winged nymphs;
Those were days of caveat-emptor in
Reckless, truth-stretching advertising;
Claims were made without legal constraint
Allowing the water entrepreneurs,
The stockholders
To boast, to fable, to inscribe
On enthralling and storied bottle labels
Of
Downright cures for diabetes, Bright’s disease,
Gravel, dyspepsia, rheumatism, jaundice,
Indigestion, costiveness, dysentery,
Chills, and nervous and sick headaches.
Those cures were just at nearby  
Inscrutably-boweled Silurian Spring;
Elsewhere in Waukesha you could get
other systemic-trickling, enigmatic spring waters
offering remedial panaceas for gout, dropsy,
water sure to be diaphoretic, anti-emetic,
even thirst allaying (!)
and a lessening of nausea and gastric distress,
Not to mention a cure for all liver and kidney diseases.
I would come home those 60 years ago
Pulling a coaster wagon of filled variously improvised
Water holders
From the constantly running pipe
of the Silurian Spring,
A  plain pipe then in an inglorious recessed, concreted
 Uncelebrated stair well
of about 6 feet deep in the Silurian park
Located
To the immediate east of the Soo Line
railroad depot
The pipe now cemented over
I would tug my Zep wagon up the slow incline of Silurian park
– now called “Waukesha Springs” but in name only –
across Hartwell,one block down Beechwood
and one block to our corner at Arcadian
and Colton street
There my job was to take the storage
 Containers down into our cool basement
And  refill our table-worthy
National Brotherhood of Potters brand
 Ice-box water jug, with the All-seeing Eye
Trademark on the bottom, the sprays of Oriental Poppies
Painted in the glazed tan background on the two broad sides
Oh,
It was and it still is a lovely crock,
A yawning hollow to hold and hallow
A curved yet overall rectangular shape that
Allowed for cozy nesting among
Other ice-cooled perishables.
We’d put it right up against the melting ice
To insure a shockingly cold drink
Now the ice box morphed into an electric refrigerator, and   
It may contain cans of superfluous diet soda
and fruit juices
But, stay, for the plainest, most rewarding
Truly thirst-quenching drink
I’ll have some deep gulps of still crystalline
Waukesha tap water
Anytime
Now direct from of the sink  faucet
But still held in
The chilly crock;
The squeaky cork-lined lid
Still making the heavy clay clunk
Of ceramic meeting ceramic when seated
As it always did
Lamentably,
Waukesha water is warned to be
at the opposite extreme of greatness
And unflourished writings from the water utility warn
Warn of toxic radium levels now
-         by now we must nearly glow in the dark  –
and the earth below and the vastness above
Are tainted, soiled with pollutants;
But  old Waukeshans
Are game old fish
With shredded fins, and
We swim in the pond we were given;
These are post-Saratoga days
And we had it good;
What of those to come?
They won’t have,
They will never have
The Brotherhood of Potters
Crock that held
The stuff of conjurers
Next to a fifty pound
Block of ice
[David Dix 3-19-07]















Saturday, December 2, 2017

Pick ups I have known; a Grandson married ; Means Rest a MD house to grow in ; Ecumenics in home marketing; Open-cat-carry



This is the first pick-up truck I've known.
It was constructed by my now deceased father and uncles
in the playroom attic at 2009 Clay St., Cedar Falls Iowa.

I own it today.  It travels with me.

It is made of a Gilbert Erector set kit out of wheels, nuts, bolts,
gears and punched sheet steel pieces.

Its chipped colored metal and some accumulated dust
portray for me the shadows of gleeful four brothers, all to serve
later in WW II, playing together in the semi-dark gables
of that plain Four Square Prairie School Iowa dwelling.



Here, later Dixes gather at the old homestead, long sold, decorated
by the present owners for Xmas.  The central flag in the front yard
that we raised and lowered daily during the war as family patriots is still there.




^,^





The second pick-up was a Ford 150.  I took Erin camping
at Peninsula State Park in it in 1987.





^,^

Chris Dix, grandson, married to Katie Gardalapee
10-23-2017











^,^


Means Rest, Pleasant Valley MD
is a house to grow up in

 Gramaw and Poppy Means of Means Rest


For easiest reading enlarge the three dot icon upper right corner to 250% or so


^,^

UCC Minister David Hansen
engages /sale promoter St. Joseph
statue to effectuate house sale.

With assistance of Wis. Realtor David Dix
the custom works, a sale is made.





^,^




Pistol packin' Mama























Saturday, November 25, 2017

Out of the slanting western skies, mid-day Thanksgiving comes to a Rochester WI orchard; Boxes and boxes of cookies; First formal




Over the back hill, solar panels push

electronic turkey and

fixings ovens

out of sight, save  small silvery reflections
through the woods.


It was an old fashioned Thanksgiving family gathering this year
at the Willard Ela Orchard farmhouse.

The sun drove it all, per usual.

The gaiety, merriment, flowing happinesses of laughter and simmering
steaming sauces and rightly crisping turkey skin was all plugged into the sun.




Before the dinner began to appear
Ben ceremoniously gave the 'grand hailing sign'
at the  temporarily empty table.



Blindy, elevated barn cat who paid his dues and long
has been granted beloved housecat status hung out at the table
corner by the Franklin wood stove soaking in the good smells.


Hannah and her mother Jane Willard share a similar laugh.



Erin's husband Ben feeds the chickens their dinner early.



Bob Willard makes people feel welcome.




Bob carves sun-baked festive bird.




David, elderly guest, samples house product Ela Cider (unpasteurized,
keep refrigerated) sitting next to a sun-bathed years-old family
Rosemary plant, in purple blossom for the holiday.


Rosemary blooms; chickens feeding without; sun 'bubbles' camera lens.


Ben breaks  a Rosemary leaf and smells the fragrance.




Dee, Erin's mother, samples glorious fare.




At table left to right:
Erin, Ben, Hannah's friend Raman, Hannah,
cork replacer Jane's arm.



The story of the day at the table:
('above and beyond' dep't)

Erin telling the call she got Tuesday
after library archives closing from an attorney
asking Erin the Archivist if she could help
settle a real estate property sale matter.

The subject was an allegely stolen two ton granite
rock given to Lawrence College in the 1800s
but missing for the last 17 years.

Buried beneath a farm, the selling and buying
parties wanted to assure clear title was given at sale.



With the fluxuating cat population at the Willards including 
numerous barn cats - and Blindy -
the Willards need to hurriedly fix scratched screens
with cat-bothering adhesive tape.

Jane recalls the sight of one-eyed Blindy out in the back fields with other regular-sighted cats,
her one eye catching the headlights of an approaching auto
as though finding her way using a miner's lamp.

Jane knows thereby that Blindy is still there.


^,^

A regular Christmas box of treats



The Priscilla Ladies Circle of the First Congregational Church UCC
unleashes a whirlwind of Xmas baking each Yule.

Here,  a cookie box is first indented, then demolished quickly.

Buy them at the church, 100 E Broadway, Waukesha WI. 262-542-8008
while they last.


^,^





By Sharon Olds 
Listen Online
She rises up above the strapless, her dewy
flesh like a soul half out of a body.
It makes me remember her one week old,
soft, elegant, startled, alone.
She stands still, as if, if she moved,
her body might pour up out of the bodice,
she keeps her steady gaze raised
when she walks, she looks exactly forward,
led by some radar of the strapless, or with
a cup runneth over held perfectly level, her
almost sea-sick beauty shimmering
a little. She looks brave, shoulders
made of some extra-visible element,
or as if some of her cells, tonight,
were faceted like a fly's eye, and her
skin was seeing us see it. She looks
hatched this moment, and yet weary—she would lie
in her crib, so slight, looking worn out from her journey,
and gaze at the world and at us in dubious willingness.
“First Formal” by Sharon Olds from The Wellspring. © Knopf, 1996