Saturday Slight

Pure white ski runs. Soft pink backdrop of billowly clouds above Schweitzer's ridge. Blue sky above that. That's the view out my west window this morning. Tom Sherry said to expect 8-10 inches of snow in the mountains and 1-3 in the valleys. They were half right.

This morning it appears that I've been granted one more extension to my leaf-raking efforts because we have no snow. Maybe, just maybe, they'll all be on the Christmas bonfire pile before that 1-3 inches finds its way to the Lovestead.

Another week has passed as has my flu. Again, so quickly it seems, "It's Live from Saturday Slight!"

• Mr. Slightdetour, aka Jim Tibbs, the architect, has quit posting cartoons here. Now, he gets paid for his "artistic punnishments." His second cartoon appeared in this week's issue of The River Journal. So, if you're around town, pick up a Journal and check it out. I hate to have people get any ideas from the first one appearing two weeks ago which shows fish in Lake Pend Oreille committing suicide near Bypassville. Congratulations, Jim, on your new gig.
  
• Hard to believe Thanksgiving is just around the corner. The past couple of years by this time I've purchased some cheap Christmas cards and at least addressed my envelopes. I've given that a thought a time or two this fall but just can't bring myself to start that Christmas "must do" list just yet. Seems like our "must do" lists have been overwhelming all year. It's all going by too fast.
  
• As always, I tip my hat to all veterans for their service to our nation today. Every Veteran's Day, I know that all my classmates remember Glen Shropshire. We just can't forget the friendly, handsome young man from California whose mere appearance at Sandpoint High our junior year made virtually every female drool with teenage adoration. Besides his striking good looks, Glen was as bright and nice as they came----a gifted writer. In fact, I got to know him quite well because he was a Cedar Poster with me. In the spring of our senior year, he wrote the class prophecy for the graduation edition. I'm sure he included the name of every member of our record-setting Class of 1965 while envisioning all of our future exploits. I don't think dying in Vietnam ever crossed his mind. Instead, Cheryl Pierce won the nod among the girls vying for Glen's attention. I don't remember too much of Glen after we graduated. Just knew he'd married Cheryl. I also know they had two kids because I taught 'em both. The next real news I heard of Glen was his death. His stunning good looks with that black mop of hair always neatly combed and those deep brown eyes remains etched in my mind as does his friendship. I also have another etching. It's Glen's name from the Vietnam Wall in Washington, D.C., where thousands of veterans are gathered as I write---remembering. Glen, we never forget you.
• I'm also remembering good friends today who are living, friends who haven't gotten a fair shake lately. Without complete knowledge of situations, I can't comment in full. I can, however, lament the statement which often comes back to haunt us whenever events get blown out of proportion and twisted by a feeding frenzy of emotional and uninformed human reaction wreaking havoc far beyond the original act. Iz that possibly how so many wars start? Anyway, the statement: Life isn't fair.
  

With that in mind, I'll wish everyone a happy Saturday and encourage you to make up for a portion of the ugliness in this world by bringing some sunshine to someone else's life.