A Castle In Our Kingdom

The Town of Granger is fortunate to have its share of carpenters, masons, builders and other skilled craftsmen and women. People have done all kinds of projects at their homes, including adding sunrooms, building garages, putting new roofs or siding on their homes, to painting, “adding on,” and doing general maintenance. And these days, it’s more important than ever to make sure their homes are more energy efficient. Building a sandbox for the kids may not seem like a priority or that big of a deal. But, then, you must not know the master carpenter who lives at the north end of town!

Did you know we have a medieval castle in our kingdom? Take a step back in time and see it on Sonnleitner Road. Aaron Sonnleitner (a skilled cabinet and furniture maker) and his wife wanted to build a castle-shaped sandbox for their children. The ‘sandbox’ elaborated into an 18’ by 24’ castle, complete with a workable drawbridge and a 9-foot tower with a spiral staircase. Given all the rain we’ve had this year, he wondered about building a mote around it. The floor at the moment is pea gravel, where their children have fun playing with their toy trucks and practice being knights in shining armor. Aaron said that next year he will build a sandbox inside the castle for the kids!

There were no blueprints, just an idea in his head of what he wanted the finished project to look like. It is made out of T 1-11 plywood and pressure treated lumber. However, he made extra grooves in the paneling to make it look like concrete blocks. Painting it gray effectively completed the illusion. It took several months of ‘spare’ time to construct. Generally Aaron builds ‘inside’ things, so this was a different and fun venture for him and his family.

— Anna Behe

Serendipity Blog

Shari Vaudo Featured Author on SearchWarp!

The link that you see to the right, when clicked, will take you to a blog written by Shari Vaudo of Granger. She started writing on Searchwarp in June 2009 and has already become a featured author. Most of her articles fall into the humor category so if you're in the mood to read and need a good laugh or just a chuckle, click on the image to the right and read her Serendipity blog.

I Am Thankful For...

I love Thanksgiving. It’s been my favorite holiday since our kids grew up. When the kids were little, Christmas was my favorite holiday. The excitement leading up to Christmas, shopping for the kids gifts, the music, the school festivities, the beautiful lights, the gaily colored paper and ribbons, taking them to see Santa, the joy on the kids faces on Christmas morning and the feeling of success, knowing we got them just what they were wishing for, but Thanksgiving…aaahhhh at Thanksgiving there’s no pressure, unless of course you count the menu planning, the shopping, the food prep, cleaning the house and the clean up after the meal, but this is the type of pressure I thrive on.

The best thing about Thanksgiving is my family. No matter how busy their lives are, they all take time out to come home for Thanksgiving.

I have so much to be thankful for. The Frontiersman, Dan, is a good husband and has always been a good provider. Our daughter, Roxanne (the apple of my eye), is an intelligent, beautiful, well educated, hard working adult who married the perfect man for her; he is also very intelligent, well educated and they are both very thoughtful, loving people. Unfortunately, Bill won’t be with us this Thanksgiving. He’s in a nursing home in Rochester for rehab after major surgery on his ankle. Our son, Jason, came later in life but he has always been the light of my life. He also is very intelligent, handsome, and will be graduating from college next spring. He is full of love and a good sense of humor.

We have the two best little dogs in the world, Mia and Gia. They’re cute, loving and so funny. They each have their own personality and they think they’re big dogs.

Although my preference would be to be living in a different city in another state, I have good friends here, a comfortable, warm little cottage, food to eat every day, clothes to keep me warm, a vehicle that (so far), will take me where I need to go and I’m with my family. What could be better than that?

I hope you are all as blessed as I am at Thanksgiving and throughout the year, every year.

— Shari Vaudo

Penny Candy

The Frontiersman and I were watching a program on the Travel Channel the other evening about the old days of penny candy and the old general stores that used to sell them. It got me thinking back to when I was a little girl. On Saturday afternoons I would ride downtown with my father and we would almost always get the same parking spot on the corner of Main and Market Streets; right in front of the old newspaper stand and smoke shop; from that parking spot, we could see most of Main Street and part of Market Street.

My father and I would go into the store hand-in-hand and he would always buy a bag of Circus Peanuts (that I hate to this day), and buy two of those rock candy on stirrers for me to crunch while we just sat in the car on Main Street and watched people walk by. Dad always liked to see who was around and see where they were going and what they were doing. Very often someone who knew my dad would walk up to the car window and talk with him for a short time. I loved that special time with my dad. It didn’t last very long though, he contracted pneumonia after surgery when I was nine-years old and wasn’t able to pull through.

I remember the jars and jars of penny candy in the old store. The licorice whistles, the long licorice strings in black and red and the giant jawbreakers that were too big to fit in my mouth.

I haven’t seen those disgustingly sweet soft sticky marshmallow ‘ice cream cones’ in many years. They probably don’t make them anymore due to the number of teeth they decayed.

I even remember when the Tootsie Roll Midgets were sold for a penny a piece in those big glass jars. Then they made them a little bigger and sold them for five cents each and later, they made them even bigger and sold them for ten cents each. I can’t even imagine how much they cost now.

The day my dad bought a five cent bubble gum cigar all for me was a red letter day in my life. I thought we must have become rich overnight. My dad said it was just because.

How quickly the joyful moments of childhood fade as the responsibilities and stresses of adult life replace those childhood joys. Sometimes though we’re fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to glimpse into our own past.

A Different Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,

I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.

My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,

My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.

Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,

Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,

Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.

My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,

Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.

In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,

So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,

But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.

Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the

Sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,

And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,

A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.

A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,

Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,

Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,

"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!

Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,

You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,

Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts…

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light

Then he sighed and he said, "Its really all right,

I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.

"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,

That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,

I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.

My Gramps died at ' Pearl on a day in December,"

Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always

remembers."

My dad stood his watch in the jungles of ' Nam ',

And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,

But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.”

Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,

The red, white, and blue... An American flag.

“I can live through the cold and the being alone,

Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,

I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.

I can carry the weight of killing another,

Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..

Who stand at the front against any and all,

To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,

Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."

"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,

"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?

It seems all too little for all that you've done,

For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,

"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.

To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,

To stand your own watch, no matter how long.

For when we come home, either standing or dead,

To know you remember we fought and we bled.

Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,

That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq

My Heart Goes Home For Christmas

The snow falls like feathers, so fluffy and light. I lean against the icy winds as it whips through my very soul. No one sees me as I stand in plain sight, watching the children in their warm, woolen snowsuits of yesteryear. Some lying down in the snow, making snow angels, some coasting down the hill on their sleds, some building a snowman and taking time out for a snowball fight.

How did I get here? Is this a dream? I recognize the children; they were my playmates. The neighborhood is my childhood neighborhood. That house, with the greenish-gray asphalt shingles, is the house I grew up in. This is really strange.

Evening is now upon us. I see the neighborhood street lights come on. The houses are lit so gaily with their multi-colored Christmas lights. The pine bough wreaths on the doors with their big, red bows look so welcoming.

As I approach the house that seems so familiar, people that I recognize, from another time, brush past me; talking and laughing, but they don’t even notice me. I see the gaily wrapped packages they carry.

Suddenly, the door flies open and my dad, with happiness reflected in his voice, welcomes the visitors. “Come in. Come in. Merry Christmas”, he shakes hands with each ‘guest’ as they enter.

I try to inch my way in with the Christmas visitors, but somehow the door closes before I can enter. I decide to look in the window. Maybe they’ll notice me and invite me in.

I can’t understand this. As I peer through the big parlor window, I can see everyone has gathered around the old piano. A young woman I recognize as my sister is sitting at the piano, playing Christmas carols while the others begin to sing.

As I glance around the room through the frosty window pane, the room looks so familiar. I can almost feel the top of the lovely, old, elegantly carved library table. I’ve sat in that big rocking chair so many times. I can see the door to my cozy little bedroom. I know the faces of the people; they’re my dad, my sisters and brothers. Their voices, their mannerisms are etched in my mind.

There’s the beautiful Christmas tree next to the stairway. It’s just as I remember; decorated with strands of popcorn and paper chains made of red and green construction paper. My sister, brother and I would have worked on those for days before they became ‘dressing’ for the tree; the very old, delicate, glitter covered glass balls, magically colored bulbs, and the angel. Oh, there’s the beautiful, old, delicate angel that always topped our tree.

As I move closer to the window, so I can see a little further into the room, I now find myself in the warmth, the glow of the room. I glide effortlessly around the room. I touch the soft pine needles on the tree. I feel the crisp leaves of the mistletoe hanging from the doorway into the living room. Yet, no one notices me.

My mother comes through the dining room doorway to call everyone to dinner. Instantly, I was very much aware of the wonderful scents coming from the back of the house; turkey, sage, cinnamon, pumpkin pie, Christmas cookies.

Everyone, including me, moves toward the delicious smells in the dining room. One-by-one, everyone takes their seat around the huge dining room table. There’s no place for me to sit… wait a minute…I’m already there; I’m very young. I’m sitting in my favorite spot, immediately to the right of my mom. I’m wearing a festive little red dress. My hair is neatly combed, with a portion of it pulled up into a pigtail and tied with a bright, red ribbon.

As I study ‘me’ as a young girl, the young girl looks back at me and smiles. Our eyes meet. I blink and, when I open my eyes again, I am in my present day home many miles, many years away. A wash of melancholy enwraps me now; so sad the moment was so fleeting, but so happy to have had a second chance.

— Shari Vaudo

Top Ten Reasons to Shop Local

Do you remember the days when these were true?

Personal Service from people who know you.
Convenience - you can have it purchased & wrapped and be home in the time it would take you to drive to the mall.
Unique Selection - you won't find the same assortment anywhere else.
Strengthen your connection to your community - you'll see your friends and neighbors when you shop.
Products selected especially with you in mind and even special ordered for you by your hometown merchants.
Trust - you can develop a relationship with your merchant and feel confident in your purchases.
Savings - especially in terms of Time, Energy and Gas.
Support businesses owned by your friends and neighbors.
Help preserve the heritage of your hometown and support your local economy.
Help support local charities through donations given by your local businesses.

— Shari Vaudo

…And Some Gave All

Step softly as you walk among these markers Standing at attention in their gently curving rows

Those who sleep beneath our feet Slumber in profound repose

Yet as you wander down these quiet paths They swarm around you, crouching low

Their patrols advance beyond the line Searching out the foe

First a nudge, then a sign… Move out! All is safe for you to go

For there are only angels here in olive drab Brothers we all know

(Author Unknown)

He was my brother, but I never knew him. He died 4 years before I was even born. He had been a troubled youth; a runaway once or twice, but not a bad kid.

It was December 1943, just after his 20^th birthday and he received his draft notice. My parents hoped a stint in the Army would straighten his life out and help him to mature. He left his girlfriend, Barbara Ellen, his parents, siblings and his pet chicken behind and marched off to war.

His name was Charles Edward Paeth, Pvt., USA; service number 42026760. After basic training at Camp Croft, SC, he was assigned to 1st Battalion, 331^st Combat Infantry Regiment, 83^rd Infantry Division, Company M.

Operation Overlord was the code name for the invasion of Western Europe. On June 18, 1944, less than two weeks after the Allied invasion of D-Day, the Thunderbolt Division landed on Omaha Beach. They were met with machine gun and small arms fire.

Once ashore, the 1^st Battalion moved inland to Vierville while encountering occasional mortar and machine gun fire. During the night, the 1^st and 2^nd Battalions marched on to St. Briac, against light opposition. The following morning, they overtook Hill 48, a significant victory at that point in the war.

The 331^st then pushed on and conquered Dinard, where 3600 Germans surrendered, including the entire staff of the German 77^th Infantry, Rance (1800 prisoners), and Ft. de la Varde, where they captured nearly 200 prisoners.

The regiment went on to capture St. Malo, the Citadel at St. Servan, the fortress of Grand Bey and later, the Citadel, but my brother was no longer with them. He was killed in action August 14, 1944. He is buried in the Brittany-American Cemetery, St. James, France.

The 83^rd Infantry Division was recognized as a liberating unit by the U.S. Army’s Center of Military History and the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, in 1993. Casualty figures for the 83^rd Infantry Division, European Theater of Operation: Total battle casualties 15,910. Total deaths in battle: 3,637.

The morning guns in serenade brought down a fiery hell And it seemed to us as though the mighty heavens fell Shrapnel ripped and scarred the ground The red earth shattered, groaned in horrid sound

Gauze streamers on our helmets marked us As we moved out across the line Machine gun tracers found us and mortar shells burst round us And when the morning mist had burned away There were only fifty of us left to save the day

We were too young to fade away so soon This far away from home and those we loved So save us in the thoughts that you keep near Protect us in the memories that you hold dear We never had the chance to say good-bye

(Author Unknown)

(Curry, 1999)

(Museum, 1993)

(William R. Flick, DAAG-PED-D Paeth, Charles E, 1980)

— Shari Vaudo

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