Daniel Kramer

One thing I appreciated straight away when delegated the task of arranging a location for a family Christmas afternoon meal, was the fact that nothing online was involved. No logging in, no high speed internet, and no waiting for confirmation at breakneck speed, no concern that everyone who ever wanted to snoop in on a north woods venue, place and time, would be in the know.

Do you remember Aunt Gertrude? The one you and I never had, but really, we both had. And that’s because she gave some universal advice about what topics to stay away from during the holiday season. The kind of topics that just might start a wave of ire in a family or amongst friends during times when everyone is trying to simply catch a breath in this life and enjoy, celebrate, and hopefully give some reverent thanks.

By DANIEL G. KRAMER A warm and fine sunny day lent itself quite appropriately for the recent Ranier Days celebration.

It’s a Sunday morning in late May and a local driveway sloping down to the road is cluttered with bikes, furniture, and some professional looking musical equipment, all shining in the mid-morning sun. It’s so crowded with gear that the sign “Garage Sale” is partially hidden in the mix and not that visible. But it is easy to decipher the scene, even on a quick drive by and on notic-ing there are no customers milling around or cars parked haphazardly on the sides of the road.

As usual, there is some irony in the story. Starting out with the fact that the “Big” Lake of the story is really rather small and would only constitute a smaller bay in a lake the size of Rainy. Also, that the four family members involved in the story all were, or have be-come, health care professionals. Just a side bar to the exciting event in which lives were saved. So, let’s get down to the nuts and bolts of grace bestowed at Big Lake.

On a local hill after a fresh snowfall the sun comes out and an impromptu symphony takes place. Colored saucers of varying shapes and sizes are seen gliding along the snow, slowly making their way up and then quickly descending down the hill, frequently flipping and spinning in the air. Thick layers of clothing are seen doing the same, albeit the flipping and spinning with a little less altitude. And emanating from within those thick clothing garments the colorful and vibrant voices of children are heard, like a flock of snow geese riding and calling out over a northwest wind in the fall.