run on sentences

Sigrid Susanna Sirvio died peacefully in her sleep on Wednesday March 28th, missing the Jan Tucker show for the first time in many years.  The world lost one of its biggest Cubs fans as well as a woman with a heart as bit as Lake Superior and a soul just as deep and generous. Siggie, as she was known to her many friends, was born on July 16th, 1930, the daughter of Andrew and Alina Karjalainen.  She grew up on a farm in Mud Creek, a shy girl who later laughed about how she had to repeat kindergarten because she wouldn't talk.  She wasn't afraid of hard work.  Despite her illness and the treatments she endured, she rarely complained and always had a good attitude.  She made everyone around her feel cared for.  Siggie was one of those rare people who knew that people and not material things are what is important. Siggie worked at Ross Bakery in Ontonagon and for many years as a cook at Wagar's restaurant.  She was known for her great omelets and pancakes and always had a

Last week I did the Moab 1/2 marathon with a bunch of friends who, like me have been doing this great race for a long time.  Well I didn't actually run the race with them.  We all ran our own race, at our own pace (rhyme not intended, but it works).    Here we all are at the beginning.  It was warmer than usual, but very windy. Moab friends at the beginning of the race...I have the honor of being the oldest - and the second fastest I love this race and the beautiful scenery.  I usually have no problem keeping my mind busy looking at the red rocks  on one side and the Colorado river on the other and anticipating the Japanese drummers at about mile 10 or so.  The sound of those drums echoing off the rocks always make me cry for some reason.   I think of the lemon cookies awaiting me in the ten year club tent.  I don't use my iPod.  I tried it once doing a marathon and I found that it kept me from feeling the race, having my weird thoughts and talking to other people - dead a

No matter how much a person believes in all the self help platitudes such as "never look back, you aren't going that way"... and "live in the moment", relapses  happen.  Sometimes we retreat to the past and it is not always clear what sends us back.  Sometimes it is just regrets.  Someone said "Having regrets is like driving a car that only goes backwards".  Yesterday morning I was sitting in my chair, heating pad at my aching back, at about 6 am.  I thought of my mom and got teary as I wished I could just give her a call and ask her a few things about people she knew, old relatives now gone, or some knitting question.  I suddenly found myself back in the 1960's, sitting in what we called "the room by the stove" in the house I grew up in.  It is a stormy, cold day and my brother, cute, white blond hair and  still sober at that young age, my sister and I  wait to hear if Jan Tucker announces that the schools are closed.  We are hopeful,