Wednesday, April 04, 2007, 05:40

Winter Again. . .

It's winter again. We've got snow on the ground, only a half inch or so, but the ground is white. And there's a 20 to 30 mph wind out of the north/northwest.

When I went outside with Pixie just now, even though I was wearing a windbreaker with a fleece jacket over it, the wind cut right through and I felt downright shivery. The thermometer in the backyard says it is 20 degrees Fahrenheit at a little after midnight.

I hope the buds on the trees, and the buds on the lilacs don't freeze. The lilacs have come out enough so I can see bits of purple on the buds that will be flowers.

I'm about to head outside with hot water to thaw the horse buckets and to bring the horses more grain and hay. I was hoping that I might be done with needing hot water to thaw Isabelle and Kajun's buckets, but I guess not.

I should have known. It *is* spring in Wisconsin, after all.

LeAnn R. Ralph

Monday, April 02, 2007, 03:15

Neither Rain, Nor Sleet, Nor Gloom of Night. . .

For the last four years, ever since my first book, "Christmas in Dairyland" has been out, I've been saying that I wanted a new mailbox. Something bigger that would hold the book order envelopes so I didn't have to put them in a plastic bag and hang them from the mailbox door.

I finally got one.

We bought it during the winter, and when the weather was nice last weekend, Randy put up our new mailbox.

The other day, I was able to stuff 10 book order envelopes into it!

Why didn't I get one sooner!

Actually, the old mailbox made of galvanized metal, which is now sitting on the workbench in the basement, has a lot of sentimental value. It had been out by the side of road sending and receiving mail for nearly 32 years. My dad put up the old mailbox when we moved to this house in the fall of 1975.

In all those years, the old mailbox only suffered one mishap. A drive-by whack a few years ago with a pipe or a baseball bat that dented the door. It was a Saturday night, and I still happened to be up yet. I heard the truck, looked out the window, heard a tremendous crash, and then the truck tore off down the road.

I think the occupants of the truck realized someone was still awake in the house. As far as I know the sheriff's department never did catch them. I called the next day. The deputy who was answering the phones heaved a deep sigh and said I wasn't the only one to report mailbox damage from the night before.

When I called the neighbor around the corner, I found out that her mailbox had been thoroughly trashed. And that it was the second or third time it had happened.

In the grand scheme of things, beating up mailboxes is preferable to putting bombs in them. Do you recall the infamous Mailbox Bomber of a few years ago? The one who was going around the Midwest trying to make a "smiley face" with the mailboxes he had blown up? His name was Luke Helder, and he attended the university in the town where the newspaper is located that I write for (only 15 miles away).

Great.

Just what the area needed.

Couldn't we have been known for something *else* besides the Mailbox Bomber?

Anyway, as I said, they whacked the old mailbox with a pipe or a baseball bat. And after that, we had trouble getting the door opened and closed.

But now we've got a new mailbox!

And if anybody tries to whack it with a pipe or a baseball bat, I will try my best to get a license plate number. Then we'll see how much fun they think it is when they are charged with a federal felony. (Shoot -- I might even get to cover it for the newspaper!)

When the weather is nicer again, I'd like to paint the letters on "The Other Place" sign above the mailbox.

That's what we called this place when I was a kid -- The Other Place. It was part of a second farm that my parents owned. This is the place where I rode Dusty, my pony, to help Dad bale hay.

Randy made "The Other Place" sign a few years back. He woodburned the letters onto it. The letters are faded, and some black paint would help the sign show up better.

It's been raining here off and on since Friday. All together so far, we've gotten about an inch. Sunday evening, it was cold and windy and still rainy.

I went to a craft sale with my books on Saturday.

Deadsville. Nooooooooo-body around.

None of the vendors did very well. I went to the same one last year. It was somewhat better last year. I don't think I'll go back to that one next year. There were fewer vendors this year, so after last year, some of them must have decided it wasn't worth it. When a certain number of vendors don't come back, it means the event is on a downhill slide.

LeAnn R. Ralph