0n October of 2002, son John met with a fledgling local prostate cancer group to discuss the possibility of them hiring him to create a website for the group. John was interested in supporting the group. Our family has been blessed with the good news that Vern's prostate cancer had gone into remission after treatment at the Swedish Cancer Institute by Dr. Timothy Mate. As of now, his cancer is virtually a non-issue. Helping with the website was a way for John to help the folks who are in the fight against this difficult disease that had threatened our family. Terms were agreed to and in February of 2003 the Washington State Prostate Cancer Coalition (WSPCaC) website (www.prostatewashington.org) was launched. John was paid a nominal fee for the original creation of the site but has stayed on to maintain the site without charge.
    Recently, the following message was sent out in a massive group email from former State Senator and Chairman of WSPCaC, Paul Sanders.

    Subject: WSPCaC Website, "We are the best!"

    Well, maybe not the best but I met with Jim Kiefert last Thursday and he said we are among the best web sites of all the web sites that Us Too, Int'l, has reviewed.
    Jim is Treasurer of Us Too, Int'l, and is either a director on the Board, an officer on the Board, or both.
     He was particularly impressed with the flexibility and rapidity which our webmaster, John Nordstrand, has given the site. He appreciated when the home page was blanked out last week in order to insert a special article on the death of our Vice chair, Frank Kirk. Also, he likes the moving banner across the home page to accent some current important news or event.
     Congratulations, John, and to everyone who has inputted to the web site. Keep those improvements coming.

Paul Sanders, Chair
Washington State Prostate Cancer Coalition
www.ProstateWashington.org

    As for the group of pictures in the previous section of this column, I take no responsibility for the two weird Goofuses (Goofi?) who are both trying to get through the doorway at the same time. Neither of them looks like anything I would care to believe was mine. I will say a little prayer for their mother. She must feel a terrible need.

    Nancy says she had a nice birthday, yesterday, the 7th. Out for breakfast, then lunch with John, Debbie, and Josie in Snohomish, with a spell of wandering around the old town and through some antique shops. Weatherman had warned of a rainy day, but relented when he heard whose birthday it was, and gave her a pretty reasonable day, weatherwise.
     Glad she had a HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Okay, everybody, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

    Received great e-mail from Russ this morning. School is going well. He expects to get some nice scholarships due to his grades. During Spring Break, he will be taking an 80 hour class to get certified in Wilderness First Aid, which is basically the same as an EMT, except for some of the advanced things like Oxygen and Drug Administration. He and his roommate will be taking the class in Pitkin, an old remote minng town 30 miles from Gunnison. They plan to camp in snow caves while there and do some back country skiing.
     As for a "pure Russ" story, he describes his first venture into a sport called "Broomball", "which is basically like Ice Hockey except you don't get ice skates - only shoes (slippery) and you play with a broom & kind of a smaller soccer ball". "It gets really rowdy and competitive - because the more beer people drink the more aggressive they are on the ice and the more they fall". His team got 3rd in the event and "I got into my first Hockey Fight" But, he assures me, it was all in good fun!

    Had a wonderfulness happen today. Using my word description and some information we found on the Internet, Nan made one of those wooden fans I've been talking about my Dad making when I was a kid. I could hardly believe it! Talk about a dream come true. I really never expected to see one of those again. The ones Dad made were the only ones I'd ever seen.
     The Internet (Google) found me a website for a man whose family has been making them for generations. He says they are an ancient art form brought from Northern Europe to the woods of Michigan, where lumberjacks sat around the stove carving (or whittling) fans, singing, and telling stories. Michigan isn't far from Wisconsin, where Dad probably learned the art in the woods where he spent some of his "growing up" years. His mother was a cook in logging camps while she was raising him after her divorce from my grandfather Gregore Pfister in 1890, so he may have been exposed to the art form early. Daddy was eight when they parted.
     Nan says it is fascinating to do and this one is just a practice one for more to come! Just wait'll you see it! Now, if we can figure out the willow whistles.....

How is this for fan - tastic?

Dixie/Dorothea, Senior Editor

Paul & Liz sent some pictures, March 6, 2004

Zoe selling goodies at Thinking Day, a Girl Scout event
held at History House

Amina folk dancing at Thinking Day

Gwen playing Chinese jumprope at Thinking Day

John and Paul looking like they're trying to think...
(courtesy of Hildy's archives - Fall of 1979)

    If March is supposed to come in like a lion, it seems to have got its priorities a bit mixed. These past two days have been more like the coming in of a pussy-cat.... golden sunshine, with the outdoor beckoning. Our little Tom Thumb daffodils are putting splotches of brilliant yellow around, and our big forsythia is being a real show-off.

    Speaking of bushes...
    Last week I submitted an essay to the PI as follows:

DO YOU TALK TO YOUR PLANTS?
by Dorothea Nordstrand

    I have always talked to my whole garden, mostly to tell it how beautiful it is and how much I love it. Now I have proof that it listens, too. I've learned it is important to watch what you say.
     At Christmas time, my dear friend, Anne, told me she planned to put lights on her big, beautiful Camellia bush. Somehow, she got the word twisted around her tongue, and it came out "Mack-ellia". That sounded so funny to us that we had a good laugh together about it.
     Then, I made the mistake of tacking that new name, "Mack-ellia" onto my own lovely Camellia, that has blessed each Springtime with a bounty of exquisite, bright blossoms.
     "Good morning, Mack-ellia", I would say, or "You are looking very handsome, Mack-ellia" as I passed it each time I went out my door.
     January and February came , with their unpredictible weather changes, and still I went on calling Camellia, "Mack-ellia", with never a thought about how the plant might feel about the name change.
     Now, I know! It has a solid mass of gorgeous rose-colored flowers on it, but they are all on the back side of the bush, where you cannot see them unless you peer at it along its side that is right up against the house! I'm convinced it is telling me that if I say its name wrong-side-around, it will bloom that way, too.
     I understand that. I wouldn't want to be called Thorodea instead of Dorothea, would I?

* * * *

    Today, I received an e-mail from them as follows:
     Dear Dorothea,

    Hello there! Thank you for this submission! I like it! Quick question for you: Would it be possible for us to take a photo of the bush in the story? Maybe with you in the photo somehow? If that would be possible and convenient for you, please let me know!
    Thanks!
    Take care,

    Laura T. Coffey
    Assistant Metro Editor
    Seattle Post-Intelligencer

    I had to write back and 'fess up that the thing occurred last Spring and the bush hasn't come into bloom yet.... and who knows how it will bloom, since I have been very careful not to mess with its name since last Spring. I think this is what is called being caught with your foot in your mouth! (sigh)
     Anyway, I got a good laugh out of it. Great therapy!

    Had another good guffaw yesterday when Nan and I were searching the Internet for information about whittled wooden fans like the ones my Dad made when I was a kid. We found several accounts, but were really excited when we saw one describing how the paper-thin slices were carefully moved and hooked one behind the next... We clicked on it and it brought up MY STORY ABOUT MY DAD MAKING THEM WHEN I WAS I KID. Google had picked it up from HistoryLink! I wish we had a picture of Nan and me sitting there open-mouthed with surprise. Dumbfounded is a good description, I'm sure.

    Our family had our own private Memorial Service last Saturday morning for Vern's brother, Mel, who died the weekend before. He was 90. Mel had specifically requested there be no official service, so those of our family who could, met at Washelli at the site where Mel now lies beside Bernice, who died a couple of years ago, and talked about him in an informal way. Hildy brought some lovely bouquets from her garden to go into the containers that were there. John read The Twenty-third Psalm, and we all joined to say The Lord's Prayer. We sang Amazing Grace. It was the most satisfying memorial I have ever attended, with all of us just remembering Mel and what he meant to each of us.

    John and Nancy went up to see Ralph and his Nancy, where she is in the special recovery unit at Providence Hospital in Everett. They report that she is doing well, although she is not yet able to eat since throat surgery done several weeks ago. She is much happier in that place, where she is getting much more personal attention than she was getting in the huge facility at the U of W. Good news is they are quite sure all the cancer was removed. Our best wishes are with her. She will be going home as soon as she can eat. She and Ralph are counting the days, I know.

    Amina and Suzie delivered our yearly investment in Girl Scout cookies, so Vern and I are enjoying more than we should of those yummies.

    Thought for the day: If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.

Very Senior Editor,
Dixie/Dorothea