While I was out working in the yard yesterday, I couldn’t help but notice how green everything is. In May, I was more than a little worried because it was so dry.
My husband has fallen ill with DD (digital disorder), a very prevalent and highly contagious illness. Indeed, chances are you already have DD. What? You’ve never heard of digital disorder? It’s been plaguing the population for years. Luckily, Jon has a relatively mild case.
As much as I hate to admit it, this is totally my fault.
If you’ve ever vacationed in northern Oconto County, you know we are blessed with an abundance of pristine natural resources, excellent restaurants, great places to shop and lots of entertaining things to do. That draws thousands of out-of-town guests from Memorial Day to deer season who come to enjoy what we get to experience every day.
As a tweener, I heard the phrase “the birds and the bees” quite a few times. Being a sheltered farm kid, I couldn’t help but wonder: What are they talking about? Alas, I knew little about reproduction at the time, but when I began my education on the topic, I approached my mother with a simple question. “So where do babies come from? And don’t tell me the stork.
As I gaze out our patio door this late-April morning, I can see clearly that Otter Run is awakening from its winter slumber. The ice went out two weeks ago; the lake is placid and peaceful today. The reflection of the trees on the water shows they are leafing out. Unfortunately, that means Jon is sneezing and wheezing as his allergies are kicking in big time. I’m blessed that I’m not prone to this affliction.
After paranormal things began happening at Holt and Balcom Logging Camp, I asked our curator, Bob Brown, if he’d experienced anything similar. Bob said he hadn’t, but he said he believed that spirits do walk among us. Except for the story I am about to relate, I haven’t seen the invisible guests taking up residence in the museum. But I feel and welcome their comforting presence.
(Editor’s note: This is the first in a two-part series about the supernatural goings-on in northern Oconto County.)
Following up on my column about the Holt and Balcom Logging Camp in Lakewood, I begin by saying I used to be agnostic about ghosts, goblins, witches and such. Maybe they existed; maybe they didn’t. Truth be told, haunted houses and horror movies have always creeped me out, though I love the ghost scene in the George C.
