Bed, no blog. Except to say that the movie star who wanted Bill Stewart to marry her was Kathryn Grayson. Bill was an ice hockey star in Chicago at one time. And he even did have one date with Elizabeth Taylor, so what do you know, it was Miss Taylor. He was fabulous, all personality. Loved children, too. I found out that when I was born he came all the way from Michigan to see me. When my sister and I were little he loved to tease. He'd point to Laura and say, Me Kathy. Then he'd point to me and say, Me Laura. He was smart, handsome, a brilliant businessman. He designed a miniature golf course that was clever beyond reason. The first hole was a life-size witch with a broom. As she swept back and forth, cackling, the idea was to get the ball past her broom. He had a wonderful golf range on the same property, a baseball batting cage AND a drive-in little restaurant that served up the hamburgers and milkshakes. The servers dressed in Scottish kilts.

Well, this probably is not of great interest to you, but suffice it to say it was of great interest to me as a kid. His operation was a kid's wonderland. He eventually bought my grandparents' golf course. He never married until age 50 and to a woman who had 8 children, but mostly grown. Unfortunately, he had cancer and an eye removed and later died of cancer, around age 57. Very sad. He was from Chicago and his mother was used to dressing up. She would dress with hat and gloves and walk the two miles to downtown Watervliet in her spiked heels. My mother would drive by and offer her a ride.

I like to think about this. He was a remarkable man, making a huge success of himself in a very small town. (Although Watervliet was super cool at one time --it was a resort town for Chicagoans and in its heyday there were many, many hotels and attractions on the lake, including the Crystal Palace, which I believe was a dance hall that extended over the lake. Big name big bands would come and play, Benny Goodman, Tommy Dorsey, Lawrence Welk. Of course, this was all way before my time.) But how many people remember Bill Stewart and think about him from time to time, reflect upon and appreciate his contributions? He enriched my childhood significantly. Life is so fleeting. When Mike and I visited 3 years ago, I went to the golf clubhouse. I asked if anyone remembered my grandfather and yes, an old man who still comes by talks about him. I asked how to get to the spot where Bill Stewart's miniature golf course used to be. We drove by and I think there are houses there now. Kinda takes your breath away, in a sharp, unpleasant suffocating kind of way. BUT, all the props for the putt-putt are in storage somewhere. I have a dream . . . to rebuild. But you can't go back. Looking back is bittersweet. Looking ahead can seem charmless. Living in the now is the best option.

The very first time I wear my brand new red J. Jill sweater, tonight, I spill greasy potato salad on it. Doesn't that beat all? Now it needs washing, but I had hoped for several wearings before washing. Once you wash, it's not new anymore. Of course, I think of the Bible verse, Do not set your affection on things below, where moth and rust doth corrupt. And greasy potato salad.

Philosophical KEM