This article has been moved to my blog: “She Loves Me, He Loves Me Not”. Just double click on the following link which will take you there!



I’d been dismayed by the fact that I truly didn’t think that this gra’ma would have anymore grandBABIES and until eight months or so ago, my son wasn’t in a serious relationship with anyone! (My daughter and her husband had determined that two children were the final number, some time ago.) There is, of course, also the fact that Lee is now 41 years old – Christy is 42 and so even when these two began to get serious I really didn’t dare hope for a grandchild!! But, hey! I’m here to tell you that miracles do happen! They’ve sent me an ultrasound photo and the first thought I had was “this is going to be a BOY!” (Don’t ask me why though, because on the photo this baby looks pretty much like a peanut! ha ha NOT like I could make-out any body parts or anything . . . . . just a strong sense of intuition! We’ll see!) But I’m so excited that I’m nearly beside myself!

OUR little nine year old Maddy (Madison Jean) just recovered from Scarlet Fever. THAT was a real scare! On Saturday night she developed a high fever. Shannon (my daughter) and I both thought she had strep throat since JJ had just gotten over that. Monday morning when Shan took her to the doctor, Maddy began breaking-out in a rash. The doctor immediately put her on Amoxicillin and she is fine now – no complications THANK GOD! (and believe me, I DID thank God!) Maddy and JJ will both be in Lee and Christy’s wedding – flower girl and ring bearer. I don’t think there will be a dry eye at this wedding. (But tears of joy!) Lee had been married for eighteen years to a woman who had Multiple Sclerosis. She’d refused to use any medication to treat her illness and became increasingly violent. It was a very painful and difficult decision for him to divorce her inspite of the violence because she was ill. When he finally had to begin to fear for his life, though, he finally did leave her. He spent six months in counseling with his minister resolving his guilt feelings for what he felt, was abandoning her. Because she WAS ill, I hate to say this, but she was a very vicious individual. They’d (thankfully) had no children together as she’d had to have a hysterectomy when she was 19 due to cancer. Christy, however, is just the opposite. She is an absolute sweetheart. She’s been very easy to grow close to and reciprocates a caring family relationship in every way. Needless to say, we are all VERY happy about this!

Gary and I arrived in Punta Cana via Sun Country Airlines – a very nice direct flight from Minnesota, USA booked through Sarah at Salentine Travel in West Bend, Wisconsin on February 9th, 2008. Clearly, we were on the Atlantic side of the sea. Breezy? Oh yes. The continual breeze prevented the humidity from becoming a problem (we slept without air conditioning) and the wind blowing through the palm trees along with the sound of the splashing ocean waves soothed us to sleep each night. The Dominican people were very warm and friendly wherever we went – especially the Excellence staff. They were very accommodating and anxious to please. Our resort room was quite large with jacuzzi (bath run and sprinkled with flower petals each evening), very comfortable king-sized bed with canopy and shower in bathroom as well. Quite beautiful. Maid service changed our bed linens daily and turned-down our bed each evening (decorated with flowers.) Roomy safe in our room. Room service was great and food delivered to our room was excellent. If we phoned staff they were quick to come to our room (we accidentally locked ourselves out of our safe.) Our view from our third (and top) floor veranda was magnificent. We gazed out over an immaculate pool to the mesmerizing sea. But this is no ordinary pool and was easy to understand why Excellence boasts the uniqueness of their pool. It was so clean and clear that one was able to literally view details of every small tile lining the pool’s bottom; it winds throughout the resort and contains a lavish swim-up bar. The beach (which we preferred) holds numerous palappas under which one can retire when (and if) the sun becomes too much. The beach also contains elegant double-sized cushion-covered wicker beds upon which one can sunbathe; of course, there were many sturdy, comfortable lounge chairs as well. Shelved wicker carts containing clean, pool-size towels for everyone were scattered throughout and one is served drinks on the beach as well as along the pool. (There are guards at the ends of the beach to keep outsiders away from the resort.) Drinks are excellent – my personal favorite was the Banana Mama: very thick, icy and fruity. We would, without hesitation, recommend this resort to everyone unless you happen to prefer no (moderate) wind, ocean waves, and no “Adults Only” environment where a few women were topless while sunbathing and a few same sex couples vacationed, too. We viewed several other resorts when on tour in the Dominican Republic and from what we were able to see when picking-up vacationers from other resorts, none compared to the especially elegant beauty of Excellence!

More family news to come in April!

(Copyright 2014 by JC Fredlund) Copyright 1974 – 2014 by JC Fredlund (JC Eberhart, Past Pen Name): ©JC Fredlund and JC Fredlund’s Artistry Blog, 1974 – 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to JC Fredlund and the link to blog is included with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.



Some of my favorite memories are of my earliest years in this world. Many loving people were involved in the formative years and in the slow, but sure development of my personality. One of the first, of course, my mother, Barbara Cooke. How I loved to sit at her feet in front of our sofa and adoringly admire her beautiful, colorful cowboy boots, guitar and her singing voice………and why not? After all, before I came along, she played guitar and sang on a radio show in Minneapolis along with two of her girlfriends! (Back in the 1940s in Minneapolis, MN.) It was through her love for music that she’d met my father, Gordon Guy, who taught music at the Gould School of Music she’d attended. Both were gifted musicians. Soon they married and a year later, I was born. I was to be a winter baby. I’ve since wondered whether or not that could have anything to do with my deep love for the changing seasons here…………..especially, the snow. Needless to say, though I’ve visited many other climates, I always come home to treasure our changing seasons here in Minnesota.

Without going into unpleasant happenings, suffice to say that my mother and father were divorced when I was five years old. Mom, my sister Patty and I went to live with our grandparents in Kasota, Minnesota. It was there that I attended kindergarten. I then transferred to John Ireland Catholic (private) school in St. Peter, Minnesota. Patty and I were bussed to school from first grade forward. I’m still able to recall nearly every detail of the tiny Kasota Post Office where Dear Mr. and Mrs. Barklow permitted Patty and I to wait inside for our school bus each morning. They were very kind postmasters, indeed – for there were some bitterly cold winter school days!

Prior to my parents divorce, I’d loved so much to travel to my grandparent’s home in Kasota. My gra’ma (Theresa Spokes-Carpenter) always permitted me to rush (immediately upon our arrival there) into her bedroom where I’d spend entire afternoons viewing her beautiful colored broaches and other colorful, sparkly jewelry. (To this day my mother expresses amazement at her mother’s always allowing me this apparently rare privilege!) I often recall to mind,with deep fondness, those special visits.

As daddy would turn the corner by Jim Klein’s garage, the railroad tracks a few blocks up ahead would come into view in the distance and I’d screech with delight that we were finally, almost there. Approximately one block from the railroad track crossing that sat on a tiny black-oil covered hill, our old car would leave the pavement onto the dusty, dirt road. My head would fill with fragrances of the many different colored wild flowers lining the small country road as daddy would cross over those tracks being careful to make a very sharp left-hand turn at the top of the tiny hill. He’d had to do so in order to make it down onto grandpa’s long driveway. I haven’t any idea how in the world my mother and father withstood Patty and my screeching with excitement and delight as he’d round the curve and pull up to Granpa’s old, unpainted grey garage. Out the car doors Patty and I would fly and into Gra’ma’s waiting arms. Thinking back, it seems to me that their house had always felt far more like home to me than anyplace else on earth. How I treasured those visits.

Then, it came time for mom, Patty and I to move into Gra’ma and Grandpa’s house. I was just about to begin kindergarten. Yes, I still recall my kindergarten teacher’s name, Mrs. Kruse. I remember the kindergarten sandbox and the small rug upon which I napped each afternoon there. The Kasota School was very old and very large. I still recall feeling extremely intimidated as I’d enter that old building and the smell of an aging structure mingled with a strong air deodorizing fragrance the janitor always used.

It was difficult for Gra’ma and Grandpa to adjust to having children around all the time and so mama managed to purchase a tiny, old, trailer house in which we resided for a time right next to Gra’ma and Granpa’s house. That didn’t last long due to the floor eventually starting to tear away from the rest of the tiny structure where the three of us shared one tiny bedroom. Soon, Patty and I were to sleep each night at Gra’ma’s house in her one of two bedrooms upstairs. That was okay with Patty and I! We loved that big old house. I recall that my grandparents had no indoor plumbing when we initially moved there. Patty and I would have to walk out to an old outhouse at the edge of yard. Funny…………….I don’t recall ever feeling afraid. Gra’ma had a hand water pump that was attached to her single, large kitchen sink where we would draw water to heat for baths in the old, square metal tub that otherwise hung out on the outside wall of the garage. In retrospect, it’s a good thing that Patty and I were small because that old metal tub certainly wasn’t very big! I also recall our excitement the day that Gra’ma and Grandpa had indoor plumbing installed for the first time…….what an exciting event! Of course, one part of that project meant having to add a bathroom onto the house!

At the edge of Gra’ma and Grandpa’s front yard was an enormous horse pasture owned by the Vogts, as well as a bull pasture which abutted the horse pasture. Patty and I grew up playing in those two wonderful old partially wooded areas. Our childhood there was the kind of childhood all children should be gifted to enjoy. Our grandfather (LaVerne Carpenter) kept chickens and goats in a small building that was attached to his garage. We’d brought our Collie, Rex there with us and played with Rex, Gra’ma’s Collie, Margo and Heidi the goat as well as many litters of kittens who kept surprising us in litters. It was truly every child’s paradise. Mere words cannot do justice describing the feelings of exhiliration we experienced there; where each new sunrise offered another adventure.

There were many afternoons when I went to visit a little elderly couple across the railroad tracks from Gra’ma’s house. Mrs. Rollings wasn’t very well and so she seldom came out of the bedroom, but Mr. Rollings always seemed excited to see me and to have someone with whom to visit. Even at that young age, I sensed their loneliness. So, every afternoon, Mr. Rollings would cook me a well rounded lunch ever so enthusiastically. It wasn’t until many years later that my sister, Patty, reminded me of the card Mr. Rollings gave me when they’d had to leave their tiny home. The words he’d written inside the card, still bring a tear to my eye: “To the little girl who never forgot.” I will always remember them with deep love and affection.

Then there was my aunt Evelyn Stolt who lived a couple of blocks from Gra’ma’s house, my uncle Ray and my then four cousins, David, Irene, Sylvia and Judy. Mama didn’t have very much money and so many times when Evelyn bought new clothing or shoes for my cousins, she’d also buy some for Patty and I. They eventually moved out onto a farm in the country where I would later spend many of my summer months embarking upon countless adventures in the woods outside their house.

Not so wonderful for our mother however, who, until she could pay for an automobile had to walk the railroad tracks three miles to work each day come rain or shine. Mama had a hard life. She was finally able to obtain a nurse’s aide job at the St. Peter State Hospital and soon she was able to buy a tiny, humble house about two blocks away from our grandparent’s house. I was eight years old when we moved to into our own house. It’s funny………….I wanted that house so badly that I still remember the name of the couple from whom we purchased it: Bill and Audrey Palmer. Mama used to have to make her monthly payments to a man named Bert French who always came to pick up her payments wearing a very large stoned ring. I’d always thought that his ring was beautiful.

Mama had to work most of the time and so Patty and I had the run of the house from a very young age. We managed not to get into any real trouble but I do remember skipping school a few times to play outdoors all day long in the snow! Our neighbor, Anna Nordeen, finally told on us after one afternoon that Patty and I had spent leaping from the roof of her garage over onto the roof of OUR garage! Dear me………

I can recall making many, many exciting discoveries in the woods outside our yard growing up and even IN our yard. But the discovery that made a more lasting impression in my mind, was one night while playing outdoors after dark in some fairly deep, new fallen snow. I was standing underneath a street light gazing down at the perfect, soft snow surrounding me, when I realized that it was as if there were trillions of tiny diamond chips sprinkled throughout that snow. It’s beauty was the first to ever steal my breath away. I have loved watching the first snow fall of each Minnesota winter ever since.

Because mama had to be at work so much of the time to support our little family of three, I soon made friends with some incredibly wonderful young wives who provided me with a sort of second home. Not so coincidentally, those young women were Marlene and Pat, daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Barklow, the kind postmasters who’d always allowed Patty and I to wait inside their post office for our school bus. Pat, in particular (who still resides on the same property with her husband, Daryll as they did way back then) always made me feel welcome for a bite to eat, a t.v. to watch and a surrogate sort of mother to talk to. By the time I was nine years old, I was babysitting for the Gerbers. Bless their hearts. Yes, they are still in my life today and to this day I still thank God for their loving friendship.

So, you see, the making of me required a lengthy recipe of lots of loving people combined with lots of great places to spend time together.

Copyright by JC Fredlund (was JC Eberhart) 2006:

© JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog, 1974 – 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to JC Eberhart and JC Eberhart’s Blog with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


%d bloggers like this: