Books and Trees and Such

Sometimes the photo accidents turn out fun. Late yesterday afternoon I took a photo of my colored lights in one of the flower beds. 

Then, after walking away, I realized that, because of the darkness, the phone was still capturing the photo.  

So, the result was not exactly as planned but still neat. 

Little Foster enjoying his world, the Lovestead. 

Most of us around here were pleasantly surprised to see the rain stop for an entire day yesterday.  

We did not expect such a weather bonus, but we took advantage of it. 

On numerous walks in the woods with Little Foster, I surveyed the fir trees for a possible Christmas tree. 

On our last trip past what I call Bill's black forest, there it was, a lovely, full dark green fir. 

It's big and it's wide, but I told Bill he could cut it, bring it up to our lean-to next to the shop and I would spend some time, literally trimming it and hopefully reaching a size that will fit in the house. 

My Christmas trees have been on the deck every year since the Pandemic, and that has worked out well because our house is really tiny inside when it comes to adding a Christmas tree. 

We're going to tough it out, however, this year because the tree will be decorated with my mother's ornaments.  I didn't have the heart to tell this story last year, as it was too raw to report that someone had accidentally taken my Christmas dey ecorations to the dump. 

I had put them in the shop off the house in green garbage bags.  Well, during a purge of all things not needed in the shop, the decorations left their storage spot along with other stuff in green bags. 

It was hard to think about the ornaments and decorations collected over 40 years since our house fire were now gone and not to be seen again. 

Now, I think the mistaken removal was meant to be.  When I told my sisters about having to buy new ornaments, they immediately told me to take "Mom's." 

They called her "Mom," while Batch On'ers called her Mother.  

Anyway, they brought me a box of her decorations, some of which are handmade and others of the classic, very artistic mode where they're so intricate in detail that if you breathed on them they might shatter. 

I'm excited to share a beloved aspect of my mother's life when I decorate this year's tree INSIDE the house, and the fact that the tree grew on the Lovestead in Bill's tidy forest makes it all the more special.

Still standing and in need of trimming but I'm excited to share the "after" photo when it's all decorated with beloved family history. 

O 

 

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

"Every play has a life and history of its own...Not affected by success. Not affected by failure. 

"On to the next play. 

"Never satisfied. 

"Playing to a standard, not the circumstances of the game." 

"Every moment is another rep in honoring your standard. 

"Stay anchored to your standard and your consistency becomes your separator."

                             ---Indiana football coach Curt Cignetti with a masterclass on consistency and standards. 

I watched parts of the Indiana-Ohio State game on Saturday night and was happy to see Indiana maintain its perfect season record and end up No. 1. 

Yesterday, after seeing the wise words above from the Indiana coach, I thought they were definitely worth repeating and appropriate for pretty much any situation in life as we move toward our goals----even living.  

🏈🏈🏈🏈🏈🏈🏈

Edd Bangeman, the "CDO" Digest Collector.

Edd, who attended Washington School, can be seen in his younger life on the lower right. 

Edd's dad was known to local folks of my vintage as George, the Milkman. 

I knew George long before I met Edd in the seventh grade at Sandpoint Junior High. 

We lived in town for the early part of my life, and he delivered our milk in bottles. 

If I recall correctly, George, who had black curley hair and glasses and always a smile, wore hickory stripe bib overalls and a white shirt when he delivered the milk.

His son Edd sat in a corner back seat in my sixth-period literature class with Mrs. Morris. By seventh grade he was wearing glasses like his dad. 

During that year, Mrs. Morris tested us to see how fast we could read.  

I don't even remember how my reading speed; it  probably corresponded with my high-school typing speed of 35 words a minute.   Nevertheless, I distinctly remember being impressed upon learning that Edd could read 700 words a minute. 

From that day forward whenever I thought of Edd Bangeman, I thought "smart." 

And, I still do, every time I visit with him on the phone or receive emails like the one posted in the blog today. 

I asked Edd if I could post his letter to the folks at Reader's Digest.  

He gave me the green light, and I am so thrilled.  

I told him that maybe not all "Slight Detour" readers would be of the appropriate age to tune in to the era of Reader's Digest condensed books, but I'm sure there are enough out there to make this a good read for this December Wednesday. 

BTW: in addition to his other interests, Edd served our country in the U.S. Navy.  Again, his "smarts" led him to some distinction as a Navy man. 

He lives over in Silverdale, Wash. where he loves reading cop stories----and that is another story for another time. 

 I hope you enjoy Edd's tale as much as I did. 

Thanks, dear friend, for sharing. 

 

Edd's home-crafted bookcase

 It (this letter) is meant for the folks at Readers Digest, but should be self-explanatory.

                                                                          --Edd Bangeman

Born in 1947, in the Rockies of North Idaho, an area that had six months of snow that was often deeper than I was tall, I spent a lot of time indoors, driving my mom crazy. 

I don’t think the word "computer" was even invented then, and although TV was, it certainly hadn’t made it to my world yet.

 So, in defense of her sanity, Mom started teaching me how to read. By the time I was 4, my daily task was to sit with a pencil, read the weekly newspaper, and circle the words that I didn’t know. These would be explained to me later. 

Quiet and sanity were restored.

In 1955, knowing that I could read, and that I was a Dodgers fan, (we did have a radio, and of course, the paper), I received a present of a Condensed book that included “The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant.” 

I had read a lot by then, but apparently, not much geography. I knew that I was supposed to dislike the Yankees in particular, and anything New York in general.  A few years later my team moved to LA. I was somewhat dismayed to learn where Brooklyn is and that I was rooting for a NY team all this time, but now they had moved, so it didn’t matter anymore.

I guess I digressed a bit, but the original point was that I fell in love with the idea that so many great stories could be in only one little book. In following years, I acquired a few more RDs, and enjoyed them all.

Now we move on to the mid '70s, when a friend said that he had decided to try and collect all of the RD condensed series, and challenged me to a duel of sorts to see who won. I accepted and started searching and finding them. 

Before long, I had quite a pile of them against one wall in the house when my “adult supervision” AKA “the wife” informed me that if I didn’t find a better place for my books, she was going to. 

Well, I might be a fool but not a complete one. So, I headed for my workshop, rustled up as much bookshelf material as I could find, and built one. Now my books had a proper place to be, and peace was restored. (the bookshelf has a major place in my story, but not yet).

Years went by, my quest continuing. My search method was to search used bookshelves in places like Goodwill, looking for year and volume number. 

I thought there were only four per year.  Then I started finding Vol 5, then 6, and had no idea when this changed. (I hadn’t discovered that there is a sequential serial number on the copyright page). So, I called RD for help. 

In response, I received a complete list of all of the books, with volume numbers as well as the series numbers, plus the fact that in 1997, you changed the name to "Select Editions," which gave me an end point for my collection. Although you changed before the year was out, which kicked my CDO into gear. 

You don’t probably know but "CDO" is my version of "OCD," mine just being in alphabetical order, like it should be. So, I opted for Vol 6, '97 to keep the numbers straight, if not the names. Also, I got a letter wishing me good luck in my search. 

I can’t quite read the signature, but it might be Tanya Floninoy, signing for Henry Mascia. I apologize if I don’t have the name right, and I doubt after all of this time, that she is still there, but would like to offer a grateful THANK YOU anyway. 

I also discovered that not only did you trick me by adding volumes per year, but also sneaked in Vol. M from 80 through 90. I had been missing these because of no year nor volume on the spine. More on this later.

Now for what I think is the fun part, and (the part that you’ve been waiting for, I’m almost done.) I recently, finally, found the last one (Vol. M, 1980). 

My quest is over; my collection is complete. 

The fun part is that, after building the bookshelf out of desperation, with the only material that I had available at the time, and deciding to complete '97 as mentioned above, not only do all 234 (a good CDO number) volumes fit on the shelves, but there isn’t room for any more. 

I’ve since joked that if all the books had dust covers, they probably wouldn’t all fit. It worked that perfectly. The enclosed photo is proof.

The end coming up. I would like to thank you for enduring my spiel, and all of the workers at RD for all of your hard work, squeezing the excess out of all of these stories and never damaging the product. Extremely well done.

Now I’m going to ask your indulgence, one more time. I have several questions, that have been killing me, and they all involve the elusive volume M.

Why M instead of just another number?

Why in position between vol 2 and 4?

Why no date nor Vol. on the spine?

Why from 1980 through 1990, then stop?

I’ve lost track of the friend that issued the initial challenge and don’t know how he made out, so, in my opinion, I won.

Thank you again for your patience. I’d like to say that I’ve read all of the books, but if I did so, I’d be inclined to fib about other things as well, and that’s not my style. (I am working on them, and have read many). 

I hope that you found some enjoyment in this letter. I wish you and the company continued success, good health, and the time to find some fun in life.

I’m also hoping for answers to my “M” questions.

If you care, I am: Edd Bangeman 14264 Dolly Varden Lane NW

Bremerton. WA 98312   Ph (360) 830-2197    Email kande-b@wavecable.com

Bye for now…………………………………………..Edd