I’ve been married to the same man for more than 40 years, and although we are only days away from Valentine’s Day, I have to confess that I found myself caught up in a rather unexpected affair. For the past year, there’s been another man in my life. He is the one who makes my coffee every morning. So you can imagine my shock last Thursday when I found him lying unresponsive on the kitchen counter between the can opener and a large jar of peaches I had received a couple of years ago at a White Elephant Christmas gift exchange. The strong, silent type, he wasn’t a big talker, but he was always there when I needed him. Rising before dawn, seven days a week, he kept me going, offering warmth, comfort, and a reason to get out of bed.

He was the most dependable guy I ever knew. Even though I had to push his buttons to get him to perform, he worked tirelessly, full of energy and enthusiasm, to make sure my cup runneth over. He uttered not a word while I drank from the goodness he had to offer to the last drop. Mostly a gentleman, he never got upset about anything and stayed well-grounded, remarkable for someone who relied on nothing but a paper filter. He knew how to take it easy, staying unplugged all day after I left for work.

On that fateful morning, when I was looking forward to my daily caffeine infusion, Mr. Coffee simply shut down. No warning, no explanation, no goodbye. After all our time together, not even one last brew, ha-ha. I toggled the power button in an attempt to resuscitate him, whispered encouraging words, but it seemed he had already landed on the doorstep of the Big Café in the sky.

The green light was on, and nobody was home. I stood with an empty mug in hand, like a character in a dramatic movie scene, and moaned, “You can’t leave me like this.”

Don’t shed a tear for me. I’ve already taken steps to rebuild my life. I have a new man in the kitchen. He’s well built, taller, stronger, and really knows how to provide. A full 12 cups, to be exact. He was an affordable upgrade, though the neighbors say I’m just on the rebound. However, after what I’ve been through, I think I deserve a little extra capacity. And so far, he’s been up to the challenge.

www.wintersetmadisonian.com

“Please explore my other newsletter, Narratives and Notes on Substack, where writers and musicians share insights into how they hone their craft.”

Share

Leave a comment

I am a proud member of the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative.

Here is a link to learn more about our writers.

https://iowawriters.substack.com/i/145661110/who-we-are

** Please join us for the monthly Iowa Writers’ Collaborative’s Office Lounge for paid subscribers to any member column. It’s the last Friday of every month except for November and December. Please join members of the Collaborative and other subscribers for conversation. Here is the link.

** SAVE THE DATE!! Paid subscribers are invited to join members of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative with the Weary Ramblers in Storm Lake on April 23, and our musicians Jason Walsmith, Wini Moranville, Dave Wolf, Carol Montag, Lyle Muller and Chip Albright for a jam session at Byrons in Pomeroy, on April 24. Details to follow.

I must confess that I’ve developed a passion for yogurt. Please read that opening line again, more slowly, so you don’t think I said I’ve developed a passion for yoga! Those two words sound close enough to be interchangeable, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t confused. Yogurt is good for you, tasty, and doesn’t require flexibility or special pants. Yoga, on the other hand, is allegedly good for you too, but it tends to twist your body into the shape of a pretzel while someone whispers, “inhale… exhale…” I know it’s a stretch to imagine I might actually eat something healthy; however, yoga, the other stretch, has always puzzled me. I’ve never understood why people who do those moves end up in knots, especially since I thought the whole practice was supposed to help you unwind.

Speaking of unwinding, let’s go back to the yogurt for a moment, because it truly gives me the perfect way to relax. I chose Greek yogurt with zero added sugar because I’m trying to cut down on it, zero artificial sweeteners because the flavors are already delicious, and zero fat because I’m already trying to lose it, so why would I want it back in my snack?

The best part of eating this healthy snack and avoiding yoga is the Bear Naked Granola that I pour on top of each cup. Now, maybe you had better read that line again. I don’t want you to think I am bare naked when I am eating the yogurt. Bear Naked is the brand name. However, I can’t vouch for the bear and his possible lack of clothing when he is gathering the oats, nuts, and seeds to make my favorite topping.

Maybe he just got done doing yoga, that would certainly explain why he isn’t wearing pants.

www.wintersetmadisonian.com

“Please explore my other newsletter, Narratives and Notes on Substack, where writers and musicians share insights into how they hone their craft.”

Share

Leave a comment

I am a proud member of the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative.

Here is a link to learn more about our writers.

https://iowawriters.substack.com/i/145661110/who-we-are

** Please join us for the monthly Iowa Writers’ Collaborative’s Office Lounge for paid subscribers to any member column. It’s the last Friday of every month except for November and December. Please join members of the Collaborative and other subscribers for conversation. Here is the link.

** SAVE THE DATE!! Paid subscribers are invited to join members of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative with the Weary Ramblers in Storm Lake on April 23, and our musicians Jason Walsmith, Wini Moranville, Dave Wolf, Carol Montag, Lyle Muller and Chip Albright for a jam session at Byrons in Pomeroy, on April 24. Details to follow.

Whenever a conversation stalls, people default to the weather. Iowans, however, have a built‑in advantage: just wait five minutes, and the weather will change, gifting us a brand‑new topic. It’s as if nature provides an endless supply of small talk while we fumble for words. From the first day of winter to the first hint of spring, we’re strapped into a weather roller coaster. One moment, we’re soaking up unseasonably warm sunshine; the next, we’ve taken a sudden detour to the North Pole.

Despite days of ominous warnings from forecasters about the incoming cold, we tend to brush them off. Stepping outside becomes an out‑of‑body experience when your nostrils freeze shut and your face locks into what can only be described as a shocked emoji. One visible exhale later, and it looks like your spirit has briefly left your body in search of warmer accommodations.

Layering up is essential once temperatures dip below freezing, but there’s a point of no return. Add one too many layers, and you start to resemble the Michelin Man, at which point mobility becomes questionable and walking turns into a slow, determined penguin waddle. Neighbors may begin to wonder why you’ve been standing next to your car for hours.

What they don’t realize is that you’re not admiring the scenery; you’re standing beside the driver’s‑side door because your gloves are too thick to grip your keys. When they inevitably slip and hit the ground, bending down to retrieve them suddenly feels like more effort than it should. At that point, your only focus is getting inside the car, turning it on, and reaching the heated seats before the cold claims another small victory.

Moments like this explain why Iowa conversations never stall; the weather changes, we survive it, and suddenly everyone has something to say.

www.wintersetmadisonian.com

“Please explore my other newsletter, Narratives and Notes on Substack, where writers and musicians share insights into how they hone their craft.”

I am a proud member of the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative.

Here is a link to learn more about our writers.

https://iowawriters.substack.com/i/145661110/who-we-are

Please join us for the monthly Iowa Writers’ Collaborative’s Office Lounge for paid subscribers to any member column. It’s the last Friday of every month except for November and December. Please join members of the Collaborative and other subscribers for conversation. Here is the link.

Share

Leave a comment

After a long day’s work, we used to come home, sink into the La‑Z‑Boy, put our feet up, grab the remote, and channel‑hop until we found something worth watching. That’s still possible today, of course, but now it comes with a steady stream of drug commercials. Each one promises to solve a long list of ailments, only to be followed by warnings that make you wonder why anyone would take the stuff in the first place.

Just when I thought I’d heard every possible caution short of spontaneous combustion, it occurred to me: why not design the perfect TV drug? One that offers all the upbeat smiles and big promises, but without the frightening disclaimers.

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing Benefitall™, the first and only medication proudly designed not to treat anything at all. Instead, it provides a handful of small, practical improvements you didn’t realize your life was missing.

Take Benefitall™ with your family, and suddenly everyone remembers whose turn it is to take out the trash. There’s no confusion, no arguing, and no pretending nobody heard you. It also brings an end to the nightly “What do you want for dinner?” routine. One gentle dose reveals what everyone is actually in the mood for, and might even inspire you to put together a surprisingly decent meal from what you thought was an empty pantry.

Pets benefit too. There are brief moments when you can understand exactly what the dog, cat, or hamster is trying to communicate, especially those mystery meows that always seem urgent.

And then there’s the Laundry Compass effect, a quiet but powerful perk that lets you walk straight to the basket where the missing sock has decided to hide.

No flashing warnings, no alarming disclaimers, just a few small improvements that help the day go a little smoother.

That’s Benefitall™. Because sometimes the best “medicine” is simply helping the day go right.

www.wintersetmadisonian.com

“Please explore my other newsletter, Narratives and Notes on Substack, where writers and musicians share insights into how they hone their craft.”

I am a proud member of the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative.

Here is a link to learn more about our writers.

https://iowawriters.substack.com/i/145661110/who-we-are

Please join us for the monthly Iowa Writers’ Collaborative’s Office Lounge for paid subscribers to any member column. It’s the last Friday of every month except for November and December. Please join members of the Collaborative and other subscribers for conversation. Here is the link.

Share

Leave a comment

It was an unseasonably warm day in the second week of the new year, and the neighborhood went a little wild. After riding the weather roller coaster from sub-zero lows to barely-above-freezing highs, we could hardly believe the forecast. Meteorologists, clearly delighted by the surprise, announced temperatures pushing toward 60 degrees, a rarity for this time of year.

Our street is usually pretty quiet, but that day felt different. The sudden warmth must have sparked a bout of cabin fever because, before long, our neighbors on the other side of the fence were climbing trees. Around and around, up and down, they raced along the trunks, chasing each other with reckless abandon. Their bushy tails stood out against the stark, leafless branches. (Just to be clear, the branches were bare, not the residents with the bushy tails.)

It was fascinating to watch the chaos unfold until early afternoon, with five family members taking part in the chase, leaping from tree to tree or circling trunks like a living merry-go-round. The cleverest of the bunch eventually took refuge atop a nearby telephone pole, either to catch a breather or to revel in the impromptu entertainment.

By the next day, cooler temperatures returned, bringing back the deafening silence and the winter normalcy we’re used to. Still, it was great to have a taste of spring, and we hope that means it’s just around the corner. Of course, until the groundhog speaks in early February, we won’t be entirely sure that warmer days are ahead.

And before we wrap up, I should clarify: my human neighbors didn’t catch a fever and go wild, climbing trees and shaking their bushy tails. If you hadn’t already guessed, I was referring to the family of squirrels that have recently moved into the neighborhood.

www.wintersetmadisonian.com

“Please explore my other newsletter, Narratives and Notes on Substack, where writers and musicians share insights into how they hone their craft.”

I am a proud member of the Iowa Writer’s Collaborative.

Here is a link to learn more about our writers.

https://iowawriters.substack.com/i/145661110/who-we-are

Share

Leave a comment