Monday, May 18, 2015

May 18: Nature Essay, Kalahari Vacation, "Ives" Dip

I spent a good portion of today working on my nature essay.  I have a deadline.  June 13.  That's when the contest closes.  I really want to submit my best work, because the prize is $250.  I was first honorable mention the last time I entered.  I was one of the judges of the contest last year.  This year, I want to write something that will clearly stand out from the pack.  And I think I'm off to a good start.  It sort of reads like a cross between Annie Dillard and Galway Kinnell.  At least that's what I'm shooting for.

One of the reasons I really want to put forth my best effort is I could really use that prize money.  Every October, we make a trip to the Wisconsin Dells for a dance convention at the Kalahari Resort.  Usually, my sister joins us, and she helps to finance the trip.  Well, there's a very good chance my sister will not be able to come this year.  That means one of two things:  1) we don't go to the Kalahari this year, or 2) we somehow finance the entire trip ourselves.  So, I think you can understand why this nature essay is so important.

Which brings me to the inevitable Ives dip question:

Will I win the nature essay contest this year?

And the answer from Ives is:

...There had been that autumn day when [Ives] and Annie and the kids had taken a drive upstate and, getting lost, had found an old house that had been built in the 1920s, in the style called "Stockbroker Tudor," and the kind that one saw in ads about happy families with wag-tailed dogs and gardens in the springtime and warm, homey parlors, bountiful tables, and stone fireplaces at Christmas, the kind of place that Ives had illustrated dozens of times--images from "another America" that he had somehow disregarded when it had come to his own family...

Well, either that means that we're going on the Kalahari trip and will get lost, or we're going to miss the dance convention and stay home, in our old house built in the 1890s in the style of Laura Ingalls Wilder.

Saint Marty is really hoping that he isn't stuck in Walnut Grove in October.

Even Laura got out of town every once in a while

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