With this being the beginning of another school year, even though I don’t have a child anxiously waiting for the first day, I do have six of our seven grandchildren enrolled in school, one place or another, from first grade through second year in college. And even though my husband is no longer concerned with all the details of beginning a new school year, I can’t help but feel the excitement and anticipation in the air. I don’t know when a person no longer senses that excitement, as the majority of my life has revolved around a calendar that says August is the first month of the year.

It’s that most wonderful time of the year! As late summer rolls around, kids and their parents make lists of everything each child will need to start school. But before school starts, here in Rooks County, kids of all ages look forward to FAIR TIME! Did you know that the concept of a fair started with just one man?

If I could call God on my cell phone to get a direct answer to “Why on earth did You make stinky skunks?” I certainly would do it, especially after the second time our little dog, Charley got sprayed by The. Most. Horrific. Smell. in nature. I would even pay additional charges for the extra-long distance call, if I could just get a straight answer from the Creater of the Universe.

Those of you 60 years of age or older will probably understand this week’s thoughts and musings more than those in the younger set. When I was growing up, our society was still influenced greatly by the farm culture. That culture was even more prevalent in my parents’ and grandparents’ generations as my mother, just like her mother, had not worked outside the home. My dad farmed ground that was “in the family,” and tried to make a go of it, but it just wasn’t enough to provide for our growing family. Dad found work at a service station in our hometown of Goessel, delivering fuel and doing whatever came up at the station, and later, leased or sold the land and all our farm equipment when he began working at Hesston Corporation. For most of my school years, my mother did not have a job other than an AVON route. But that changed, too, as she went to work at a bank in Hesston, about 15 miles from home. My two younger brothers were on their own much more than me and my two older brothers. There are still stories that surface at times about my younger brothers alone on the farm in the summers and some of their crazy death-defying experiments.

A few weeks ago I shared some folklore from Kansas regarding hiccups and hangovers. I am just a little disappointed that I’ve not heard from any readers field-testing these so-called remedies.

We all celebrate New Year’s Day on January 1, and we probably all have certain traditions associated with that special day that we hold dear, such as watching parades and football games, or binge-watching movies; playing games with the family; eating a certain meal that is a family tradition; frying New Year’s Cookies!; reading a book; or just hibernating like a big ol’ bear. Whatever it is, I venture to say that just about everyone has a special tradition that is always associated with New Year’s Day.

Many people like to read, but few enjoy writing. That’s probably because most of our writing experiences have centered around undesirable projects, such as research papers in school. (Guess what? I LOVED writing research papers in school!!) But here’s a fact: When you express yourself through writing, you reveal more about yourself than you ever could by talking, even if you aren’t writing about yourself. Writing forces you to choose your words more carefully because it forces you to think more deeply. That “thinking more deeply” part is what trips me up every time.

A book in our personal library at home is “Folklore from Kansas: Customs, Beliefs, and Superstitions,” which is a fun book to skim through. I think perhaps it is a book that social science teacher Bob Becker purchased back in the 1990s. William E. Koch is the author of the book and was the compiler, organizer, editor, etc. who took on this “fun” research project which he described as “a careful statewide survey of folk beliefs, customs, and superstitions.” More than 2,800 people listed in the back of the book were either contributors or collectors. According to a map provided, at least 500 items were contributed by Rooks County folks; and as I scanned the list of contributors, I found 39 people listed from our county. Some of the last names, however, are at least familiar to me. Listed from Stockton were: Robin Bigge, Mabel Butler, Emma Hammond, Jeanne Helm, Violet Jamison, Mrs. E. C. Newbrey, Mrs. Daisy Thelen and Carl Walker. I’m sure these names ring a bell with some of my readers. In addition to the contributors from Stockton, others acknowledged in Rooks County were from Codell, Palco, Plainville, Woodston and Zurich; so that pretty much covers the county.

We went on a very long trip last week in our new-to-us 5th-wheel camper. We had made prior reservations at the campground, which is a must in order to ensure a great spot. But before we packed up to leave on the camping trip, my husband made a long trip of his own: first to Cheney, to watch our will-be-freshman granddaughter play softball on Thursday night. Her team won its first game of the summer season, and consequently, Grandpa was invited to stay the rest of the summer if he brought that kind of luck. Early the next morning Bob continued south, all the way to Flint, Texas, where he watched our youngest granddaughter, who will be in third grade, participate in a weekend coach-pitch, end-of-season tournament of traveling teams. The team Karsyn played for totally dominated the tournament, going undefeated for the weekend and capturing the championship, complete with a Championship Ring that could probably fit my big toe. But then, I’ve only seen pictures of the ring because I was not there. (sniff-sniff)

I can’t begin to tell you how many times I have recited the 23rd Psalm when I am worried or stressed out about something. It is my go-to stress-reliever, and it’s far more effective than drugs. It’s hard to improve upon the 23rd Psalm and the calming effect that it can bring, especially when I reflect on a mental picture of, for example, the Flinthills: acres upon acres of rolling hills with green, grassy carpet, horses and cattle grazing peacefully, and a beautiful pond in the valley. Try it sometime — you’ll thank me for it later.