Rumblings on the Prairie

The incessant rumble of motorcycles from I-90 reaches the quiet of the ranch. Sturgis draws a huge crowd for it's annual rally, and this year the prediction is for a million bearded, bare skinned, bandanna-wearing bikers to visit. Traffic jams, loud vulgarities, over-crowded facilities, over-worked law enforcement, wrecks, wailing ambulances, and incarcerations are suddenly common in our peaceful world.

The venders and tattoo artists are waiting, rubbing their fingers together in anticipation of huge crowds and money to be made. Many Sturgis locals have moved out. And the rest of us stay off the roads and stay out of the Hills until rally days are over and the same rumble that brings the bikers in can be heard taking them back home. Sadly, some go home in body bags. Fatalities are high this year. DUI arrests are high. Drug busts are common.

And now that you have this picture in mind, consider what our lovely lady, Jolene, (from my book My Lady) thinks as she unwilling comes to South Dakota on a Harley during the Sturgis rally. Jolene, who loves to ride her horse Tango and is happiest on the family ranch, finds the noise and rabble almost unbearable. To add to her misery is the nagging fear that the man she loves has ulterior motives for dragging her into this mess. And it gets worse.

When she confronts him with his strange behavior, they have a ferocious argument. It gets physical as he slaps her, and she, with country girl grit, slaps him back and accuses him of-----murder. Her main thought, after she locks herself into her room and hears him leave, is to escape. She's scared, and she's praying. And she runs to the sanctity of the prairie.

Such are the thoughts that came to mind many years ago when we found ourselves driving through a mass of motorcycles on I-90.  Who knows why a writer's mind forms a book around one little incident, but that's the way it was, and Jolene and Dexter, and her other loves, are forever immortalized in a book.

Have a good and Godly day, and be careful on the roads!

My Lady is available on amazon, barnes and noble, and Tate Publishing. It's also available in local stores, and from my web site www.prairieflowerbooks.com

Prairie secrets

 

Using my imagination, I stood where I thought the steps of the little church would be. Dakota prairie in the fall, minus the fence, would have greeted the congregation of the United Norwegian Lutheran church as they ended their worship service on the banks of Brave Bull Creek.

 

The details of the memory are dim, but the impact of that long ago day when Dad and I went searching for a stray cow has resulted in an important part of the Goodbye, Belvidere trilogy.

I suppose I was riding old Rusty, a kind and gentle mare who liked to mosey along at her own pace. Dad must have known his ride would take twice the time with me along, but never-the-less, he succumbed to my begging, and saddled our horses with his usual good humor.

When we reached the hills above Brave Bull Creek, he surprised me and took a small detour.
"There used to be a church here," he said, getting off his horse and studying the ground. And then he grinned and showed me the remains of a rock foundation. "And over there are some graves." He pointed to several depressions in the ground. "My baby brother is buried here," he added, and found himself answering a hundred questions from my all too curious mind.

I don't remember if we ever found the stray cow. However, the story of the little church on the banks of Brave Bull never left me. A couple of years ago, I returned to my favorite childhood haunt. Once again I found the rock foundation, and tried to imagine the people who worshipped in that very spot. By now, the prairie had gently blanketed the graves with waving grass, and my quick search gave no evidence the sod had ever been disturbed with shovels and tears.

In the far distance, St. Pete's church steeple still pointed to God, just as I remembered. It's a different church now then when Dad and I gazed eastward, but this newer church still glistened white, and the steeple carried my thoughts far above the sparse clouds to the deeper blue of the sky.

What were the people like who built a church on the prairie, buried their loved ones, worshipped, grieved, loved----lost? How could I blend fact and fiction together to make it all come alive? Should it come from a homesteader's viewpoint? Or should a cattleman tell the story? Or maybe neither one----maybe a man of God who witnessed the free range days, and then the influx of homesteaders? Maybe a man called-----CJ Crezner. Would he be the first pastor of the church?  Hmmm.

But what were the facts? With help from the local courthouse, I learned that homesteader Nels Christensen, in 1911, donated this parcel of land to build a United Norwegian Lutheran Church. What happened to the church? Fact gets a little fuzzy here, but it is believed it was moved to Nowlin, a little village along Bad River, in about 1921. And then? More research. Those detail will have to come in the third book of the Goodbye, Belvidere series, which I hope to get started on soon.

But in the meantime, readers, enjoy CJ and Joanna's adventures in His Eye Is on the Sparrow, the second book of the trilogy. Some surprises are in store for you. Discover why Isaac is heading west, without saying Goodbye to Belvidere or his family. Enjoy this time on our Dakota prairies, and catch up on a little history for good measure.

Have a good and Godly day!

www.prairieflowerbooks.com

Ranch musings

We were a happy trio as we putted along in the side-by-side heading out to the corrals to join the rest of the family.

Bud the dog,  Little Guy (youngest grandson) and myself were taking cold drinks and goodies for everyone, and we had a light breeze, fluffy clouds, and blue sky as our companions. Not all the family was waiting for us; our oldest daughter and her husband were at the hospital, waiting for her to have surgery, but we felt she was in good hands and didn't expect any complications.

The cattle were sorted into the right pastures, everyone enjoyed a brief break before heading home, and Justin joined  Bud, Grandson and me.  We quit puttering when he took over the driving, and shifted into high gear----there seemed to be fences to check, gates to close, and everything whizzed by us at high speed. Grandson pointed to the seat belts, and I nodded in agreement.

After some time of bouncing through ruts, dodging puddles, and tearing down steep hills, Justin made the mistake of bouncing out to pound a staple in. I quickly slid under the wheel. There are some things that a person just can't tolerate, and one of them is racing through a beautiful day without taking time to enjoy it.

We were back to puttering. Past an old homestead where the yellow irises still bloom, moseying through the grass filled draws, stopping to tip over a struggling turtle that had flipped over on his back, smelling the wild roses, watching a lone antelope as she kept a wary eye on us. The good things of life. Even my cowboy was in a relaxed state of mind when we reached home.

During supper we had an urgent phone call. No, not from our daughter at the hospital, but from a tow truck operator who had gotten stuck in a muddy pasture where he was trying to pull out some Missouri prairie dog hunters, who were very stuck. It wasn't long after Justin and our son left to rescue the stranded ones that I received another urgent call. Not only was the tow truck and the hunters stuck, but also---you guessed it----the rescuers. Now they needed someone in a four wheeler to bring them back so they could get the tractor and, hopefully, pull everyone out.

Our daughter-in-law headed out in the deepening twilight to find them, and once again, Little Grandson, Bud the dog, and I are a trio, but this time we are at Little Grandson's house enjoying the rocking chair. Shortly before midnight everyone is unstuck, headed back to civilization, and the message on the answering machine said our daughter's surgery was successful, and she was resting comfortably.

A slightly untypical day on the ranch.

Have a good and Godly day----even if it is a little unusual----
www.prairieflowerbooks.com



Our happy trio

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!

My folks were married on May 18, 1937. They started their married life slightly in debt, lived on a rented farm, and endured drought and a depressed economy.

Actually, I never heard them lament about any of the above facts; except once in a while when they were in the middle of a heated argument and they sometimes questioned why they married each other. They were  generally upbeat and seemed to handle with good humor most of life's situations.

Dad worked hard, but he seemed to enjoy it. Mom didn't exactly work hard, but she detested slothfulness, and kept a wonderfully clean home and a full pantry of baked goods. They bought a place, farmed, raised cattle, and encouraged their kids to be honest, to work, and to be kind to others. Dad suffered a heart attack and died 40 years ago this May. All the years mom was a widow, she was able to live comfortably on what he had provided. I truly marvel at this. She was thrifty in her own right; yet she was able to buy what she wanted. It speaks well for their common sense and financial planning.

Besides all of these good attributes, they gave us something immeasurably precious. We have the assurance they are both in heaven. I believe the most precious gift we can ever receive from our loved ones is the calm assurance that they know Christ, and they understand He was crucified for their sins, and they are looking forward to eternal salvation in paradise. It is an unspeakable heartache to wonder where loved relatives and friends might be spending eternity when they give no assurance of their faith.

I especially appreciate this when I realize that neither of my parents were raised in a home that emphasized church or church attendance. They were baptized when they were in their 30's, and they made the commitment to raise their kids in the church. The older I get, the more I realize what a rich and wonderful blessing they gave us with their decision and their commitment.

Mom passed away this spring. She went to sleep and snoozed her way right up to heaven. After all these years, she and dad are together again. I shed happy tears when I think of them in their new glorious bodies celebrating with each other and with friends and family who also reached heaven's gates.

Talk to your loved ones about your faith. They will appreciate the conversation after you're gone.

Have a good and Godly day!

 

I love to tell the story

The Countries of Whine and Roses is now available through Tate Publishing at this link:
  Tate Publishing

The release date is May 5, 2015 and then it should be available from distributors like Barnes and Noble and amazon.  I should have books here by the end of March.

This is labeled a juvenile book. I'm new to the world of illustrated books for youth, and it has been a fascinating journey. Sometimes a frustrating fascinating journey, but never-the-less a learning experience.

Several years ago, while I was still teaching 3rd grade release time classes, a story crept into my mind of a beautiful country of happiness where a good king lived and ruled, and people loved both him and the prince. Coupled with that thought was the joy of Heaven and what it must be like to live in the presence of God.

 But another thread was unraveling in the story.  How did the Heavenly residents react when they learned Jesus was leaving them to come to the wicked world? Surely they must have wondered why their beloved Christ had to endure harshness and evil from the prince of this world, the devil himself.

Who would watch over the Christ Child? Who would make sure He found His way back to Heaven? What would give them any comfort or joy while they continued without the Son of God? God and the Holy Spirit must have reassured them Jesus would return.

So---once upon a time, in the country of Roses, a good and kindly king sent his beloved son, the prince, to the country of Whine to convince the unhappy people there that a better life was available to them. And for awhile the Whine people listened, but eventually, they began to disbelieve the message and hate the messenger.

The good folks of Roses were ready to fight for their prince, but the king said they mustn't. And HS, the one entrusted to ensure the prince's safe return, agreed with the king. There had never been such an unhappy day in the country of Roses. Even Diamond and Thunder, the majestic horses the prince and the king rode, put their heads down in sorrow.

But joy and laughter return when HS brought the prince home again, as he had promised he would do. While Mac held Diamond's reins and watched Rainbow Hill along with everyone else, the prince appeared suddenly and greeted his people with joy.  Shouts of laughter! Dancing in the streets! The country of Roses is still celebrating.

I love this story. The release time kids always listened quietly, (which was a rarity in itself----I'm not good teacher material) and asked fascinating questions when it was over. It is a great way to explain the Holy trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

 I also love the fact that this Easter (and every day) we can all shout and celebrate because Christ has risen from the grave and has returned to His glory in Heaven. And--the Holy Spirit is as busy as ever living within our hearts. He constantly  reminds us of God's great love and Christ's great gift. We serve a wonderful God!

Have a good and Godly day-----spring is coming!

Joyce Wheeler
www.prairieflowerbooks.com

Our cuckoo sneezer

"A-choo! Cuckcoo."

We looked up from our menus in surprise. Who would have thought we'd hear a cuckoo clock in beautiful McKinley lodge at Denali Park?

After we placed our orders, we heard it again. "A-choo! Cuckoo." Hmm. Obviously the little bird had allergies. Behind the counter, one of the gals also had allergies. She was a cheerful young lady, but often interrupted by her own sneezing.

Because I was facing the counter and could see her, it soon became apparent this gal could not only sneeze happily, she also cuckooed.

"A-choo! Cuckoo." I giggled when I heard it. "It's the gal beyond the counter," I informed the others. "Every time she sneezes, she cuckoos."

Justin was indignant. Absolutely not, he claimed. There was a clock somewhere  that was making the sound. I looked at my son-in-law and shrugged. Oh well. If the man wanted to think it was a clock it didn't matter to me.

"A-choo! Cuckoo." Ever try not to laugh out loud? I looked at the other diners and noticed most of them had the same problem I did. My undoing was glancing at the daughters and watching the  hilarity on their features while sweetly listening to their father scoff at my information of the sneezer/cuckooer.

"A-choo! Cuckoo."  Once again my beloved looked in vain for a clock, which was the rest of group's undoing. We laughed until we cried and our sides hurt. It's interesting what can trigger an outburst of uncontrolled laughter.

Yesterday I sneezed. From the living room I heard a distinct "Cuckoo." Justin grinned at me from the recliner. I guess it was his way of saying it probably really wasn't a clock he was hearing at McKinley lodge.

                                                   VALENTINE'S DAY IS COMING SOON!

Join your friends at Dempsey's Pub in Uptown Watertown South Dakota on February 12. Their Art night @ The Pub happens every 2nd Thursday and on the 12th of February they are celebrating all that is February with a RED SHOW.

I won't be able to be there, but have submitted a reading called The Red-Head and the Redneck. It's an excerpt  from my book, Laughter in the Wind. Hope the folks will enjoy it. My friend, Jane Green, who writes for several newspaper in the area, is handling the details for me. Thanks a whole big bunch, Jane!