Tag Archives: Kathy Anne

International news

So proud, but then again …

NUREMBERG, Germany — My journey abroad is beginning to commence to come to an end. I only have a couple more nights in Bavaria before I board a jet for home.

I want to stipulate two critical points.

One is that I am a true-blue American patriot who served his country in war, who pays his taxes without bitching about it and who salutes the flag whenever it flies in front of me.

I also know my country if far from perfect and my aim always in criticizing public policy decisions is to get policymakers to do better.

The other critical point is that whenever I travel to non-English-speaking places around the world, I am a bit self-conscious over my inability to communicate in their language, forcing them to do so in mine. I get that English is the international language of commerce and transportation. But still …

My trip to Germany has been eventful and full of new experiences. I came back to Nuremberg to catch up with two dear friends, a husband and wife who greeted my bride and me in 2016 when we came here the first time. Kathy Anne is gone now and my return was tinged just a bit with sadness. As I told my friends, though, I am moving on with my life just as my wife insisted I do. They get it.

I have seen once more how Europeans have developed rail travel almost to an art form. I have learned how they have crafted a sustainable energy policy that relies almost exclusively on renewable sources of energy. I also have learned how Germans encourage young people to serve their country in a voluntary public service capacity before embarking on their own careers. And … I have learned that higher education in Germany is free.

We don’t do everything perfectly in the country of my birth. A globalist view of our national development seemingly would require us to examine how other nations in our shrinking world handle their everyday affairs. Why not, then, take a peek?

My trip abroad is nearing its end. I will take back many more cherished memories of my time here … and also with fuel for thought that all of us at least should consider.

International news

The hunt continues

NUREMBERG, Germany — Very soon, my friend and I are going to head toward the Czech Republic border in search for the perfect Greek pastry.

It will have to be perfect, although it will be difficult to ascertain whether it reaches the level of perfection set by my late bride, Kathy Anne.

Here’s the story in brief.

Kathy Anne and I were married in 1971 and she joined my family that included my surviving grandmother … whom we called “Yiayia.” My grandmother made a particular Greek dessert that Kathy Anne swore melted in her mouth. It is called kourabiedes; it is a cookie covered in powdered sugar.

Kathy Anne and I traveled twice together to Greece. We tried to find a cookie that matched Yiayia’s creation. “Not even close,” Kathy Anne would say.

My pal Martin tells me this particular bakery in the Czech Republic makes some delectable desserts. We shall find out if they measure up to the greatness that came from Yiayia’s kitchen.

My trick knee tells me Kathy Anne would remain unimpressed.

local news, media news

932 days … and counting

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This isn’t a boastful post, but it is one that calls attention to a streak I’ve enjoyed for a very long time.

For 932 consecutive days I have posted something on High Plains Blogger that might be of some interest to someone out there.

High Plains Blogger is taking a lengthy airplane right Tuesday morning, which might — perhaps, maybe — put that streak in some jeopardy. I will work to ensure it remains intact.

I am going to Nuremberg, Germany for two weeks. I will be visiting dear friends who invited me back there when they got word of my bride’s passing way. I’m taking them up on their generous hospitality.

My hope is that we don’t get too gabby and I forget to post something within a particular calendar day.

The gentleman who is hosting me is a journalist, so he knows about my deadline pressure. His wife works for the government, so she knows, too. They are wonderful friends and are the parents of three fabulous children, who have grown significantly — of course — since the previous time I was there in 2016 with Kathy Anne.

I do know this: my bride would insist I keep the streak alive.

So … I will.

local news, media news

Memoir work ramps up

Because I have been making command decisions left and right, here’s another one for you to ponder.

I have decided to recommit to finishing a piece of work I’ve been toiling over for many years, a memoir I am writing for my family.

The memoir was my beloved bride’s idea. Kathy Anne told me I needed to memorialize the people and events in my career and give the finished product to our sons and their families. I began work on it some time back.

This week I added two more entries noting two individuals I whose paths I crossed while working as a print journalist for nearly 37 years. Then this morning, I took another step toward organizing my work.

I looked at the list of people and events I had penciled in and noted all those I had entered into my draft memoir. I counted those entries and learned that, by golly, I am about two-thirds of the way through my list.

Then again, more names pop into my noggin, usually without warning. So, I will add them, too, to the lengthy list of famous and infamous individuals I have been blessed or cursed to meet along the way.

Some of my friends have asked me if I intend to publish it. Hmm. I have thought about it and to be honest, I haven’t yet decided. There well could be enough text to fill a small paperback if I choose to go that route.

I had a joyous ride pursuing my craft. When Kathy Anne made the pitch to write it all down, I didn’t need persuading. I thought, “You know, I have met some fascinating individuals and the circumstances of those encounters themselves are worth remembering.”

I’m not entirely sure why I am sharing this with you. Maybe it’s my way of revealing how I plan to spend my time re-crafting my life into something entirely brand new.

I do want to share the ups and maybe even some of the downs I encountered while doing something I truly loved doing.

Wish me well …. please.

local news

A bitter date awaits

My bride and I celebrated April 1 in an odd fashion: we commemorated the birth of our puppy, Toby on that day.

He joined our family in early September 2014. We took him to the doctor to get him vaccinated, neutered … all the stuff pet parents do. The vet looked him over and calculated him to be five months of age. We backed it up five months and learned he was born in early April.

Thus, April Fool’s Day became Toby the Puppy’s birthday.

On Monday, he would be 10 years old. Except that he is no longer with us. He passed away from cancer on Dec. 1.

I had struggled mightily to keep him longer. His 12-pound body couldn’t keep up the fight. His demise ended the worst year of my life, adding a poignant symmetry to a year that began with the loss of my wife on Feb. 3, 2023, and ended with Toby’s passing away on Dec. 1.

I still struggle with Toby’s passing. I well up when I see couples walking their own dogs down my street in Princeton, Texas. I told a dear friend today that I get “jealous,” but she responded that it isn’t jealousy I am feeling, but that “You’re just missing your puppy.” I accept that definition of what happens to me.

It will take some time get over my loss of this critter who turned into the best friend and companion I ever could have imagined. We fell in love with him almost the moment we laid eyes on him in September 2014; he felt the same thing toward us, too. We took him on RV trips to all corners of this country and through the western half of Canada. Was he a road warrior? Damn right!

He made us laugh every single day he lived in our home. That is not an exaggeration! Every single day we giggled at something he did.

I wanted to get this posted today, because I’ll be on the road Monday returning from a brief visit to Amarillo … where our journey as dog parents began.

I will miss him forever … and then some.

local news

900 in a row … and counting!

I am not prone generally to bragging about myself on this blog of mine, but I have to offer this tidbit for you to ponder.

Today marks the 900th consecutive day in which I have posted musings on this and/or that topic on High Plains Blogger.

Some friends of mine tell me they marvel at my prolific volume of commentary. I respond only with a simple “thank you” and this caveat: It’s what I do.

This blog has kept my mind alert and in the past year it has helped carry me through some intense emotional pain brought about with the loss of Kathy Anne, my beloved bride, to cancer.

I don’t file generally as many blog posts daily as I once did. I admit to slowing down a bit on that aspect of my productivity. However, every day brings a new challenge for me, offering me a chance to comment on news of the day … or just on life as I am now living it.

Stay with me, dear reader. There’s more on the way.

local news

Dreaded task … done!

This post is aimed at anyone who has lost a loved one — namely a spouse — after spending decades melding your life with him or her.

As many of you know, I lost my dear bride to cancer a little more than a year ago. Kathy Anne received a glioblastoma diagnosis and six weeks later she was gone. Her oncologist called it the “most aggressive brain cancer I have seen in all my years practicing medicine.”

But then came my emotional journey on which I embarked. Today, a major part of that journey ended for me. After agonizing since the worst day of life, I finally gathered up Kathy Anne’s clothes and delivered them to a shelter for women who need them.

I had been told there are many ways to approach this task. One friend of mine told me she donated her late husband’s clothes two weeks after she lost him. One of my dearest friends on Earth hired someone to empty his late wife’s closet after she passed from cancer about four years ago. Others have waited even longer than I did, while others have completed the task quickly.

I chose to wait. It was too large a leap to make. We had shared a home for 51 years. We became like one. Kathy Anne had been the embodiment of good health … until she wasn’t.

My journey has been a long one, to be sure. I have cleared many emotional hurdles. My friends have told me I have made great strides. My family has been strong, too. My sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter have endured the pain of losing the pillar of our family. Their strength has sustained me.

Today, I am happy to report, is a good day. I believe I have cleared the final hurdle on my journey through the darkness.

The gentleman who received the clothing spoke the truth beautifully to me this morning. “Your wife would want us to put these items to good use,” he said, “and we will.”

local news

The mustache stays … period!

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This post is for those I haven’t known since The Flood. It is for relatively recent acquaintances and friends, some of whom ask me this question at this time of year:

Is the mustache coming off, too, along with the rest of your facial hair? Answer: nope; not even.

The mustache has been part of my face since 1970. Except for a brief period in 1980 when I decided to shave it off. Big mistake.

I started growing it as I was preparing to exit the Army. I had returned from Vietnam and was stationed at Fort Lewis, Wash., just up the highway from my Portland, Ore., hometown.

It was July 1970. I was a month from shucking the uniform forever and returning to civilian life. I grew the mustache. I liked it. It quickly became part of me.

Then a decade later, I decided to shave it off. I had two small boys at home with me. I came out of the bathroom and presented my clean-shaven face to my family. My bride, Kathy Anne, approved. The boys? They couldn’t stop laughing.

They were six and five. They had never seen Dad without facial hair. For that matter, neither had Kathy Anne … but she was cool with the “new” me.

My sons’ laughter never let up. After less than a week of it, I surrendered. The stubble returned. Soon it blossomed into a full-grown mustache. It has stayed.

The beard comes and goes. I usually shave it off every spring. This year it came off about a month early. Which is OK. Kathy Anne preferred I keep it year-round. We would “fight” good naturedly when the time came to shave it off. I no longer have to wage that fake fight. So, it came off.

But come this autumn, the beard will return as it does every year.

I just wanted to share this bit of useless info. You are now free to pursue more important matters.

local news

Stay busy: essence of life

My many friends — those I have had for decades and those I have just met — all say the same thing as I trudge on through the rest of my life’s journey.

Stay busy. Get busy. If you have nothing to do, find something to do. Build structure in your life. Fill the dates on your calendar.

My journey is commencing its second year without the love of my life at my side. We commemorated the first year of Kathy Anne’s passing quietly. My sons were with me for a while that day. Then we went about our daily routines.

But my life is taking some form these days. I am restructuring my daily routine to accommodate tasks that need doing and duties I need to perform.

For instance, today I took on a task that will enable me to serve a community I have grown to love. I have been a member of the Farmersville Rotary Club for a couple of years and its president-elect asked me to serve on the board, heading up the membership element of the service organization. She wants me to be in charge of recruiting new members.

“Yes!” I said with no small measure of enthusiasm. I am happy to do it. Not just for the club, but also for myself. I am getting a chance to fill in one more spot on my calendar.

One of my sons told me today that after Kathy Anne passed away, he was able to continue his work for his employer as a way to keep his mind occupied and to “relieve myself of the grief I was suffering.”

My journey has brightened significantly over the past year. I have made new friends who know the story of the loss we suffered. They have delivered the same message … beyond offering their love and support.

It is to stay busy. Find structure in your life. Build on it. Relish the responsibility you will take on.

Message heard.

International news

Jumping out of my skin …

I am giving serious thought to jumping far out of my own skin as I take some time away from the daily grind … and, yes, even old guys like me have “daily grinds” from which they need relief.

A plane ride to Germany awaits. I am accepting an invitation from a good friend who offered me a place to stay “for as long as you want.” He heard the news about my beloved bride’s passing and offered me a place to stay “across the Atlantic.” I accepted his offer, but I will be there for a finite period of time.

But … while I am visiting him in Bavaria, I am going to — gulp! — rent a car to drive while he and his wife are working. This is a big deal for yours truly.

I have traveled a bit overseas. I have been to several countries in Europe and in Asia; I went to Mexico City once to attend an editorial writers conference. At no time have I rented a motor vehicle. I dared not try negotiating the streets of Athens, Bangkok, Ho Chi Minh City, Taipei or Delhi … you name it.

This time it’s different. My friends are young enough to continue working full time.

What gives me the nervous jerks, though, is driving in a nation with no known limits on speed. Yep, you can drive as fast as you want on the autobahn. Those who know me best know that I don’t handle speed all that well. They know that I inherited my dear ol’ Dad’s driving habit of poking along. I don’t obstruct traffic, but if the speed limit is posted for 75 mph, I am likely to drive 60 or 65 mph. Why? Well, I just don’t like having my hair flying back while driving a motor vehicle.

I’ll be in Germany for just short of two weeks. I’ll be able to drive locally, take in the sights and visit some of the picturesque communities near where my friends live.

I think I’ll seek the back roads, however. I don’t need to bring gratuitous horror to my overseas driving experience by venturing onto the autobahn where I have heard it’s every man for himself.