By Jim Palmer In February, the country’s most popular groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, saw his shadow, meaning we are in for another six weeks of winter. Mark March 15 on your calendar. That is when spring will officially arrive this year. Of course, this old folklore, which dates back to settlers in the 1700s, has not ever been considered an accurate tool in our meteorologic toolbox. It’s been correct only about 40 percent of the time. The groundhog’s prediction also gears us u

Today’s Wisdom: “No day shall erase you from the memory of time.” –Virgil By Bill D. Ward Most of our readers are finding themselves in the late half of their lives. We have run the good race, done most of our great accomplishments, and made our most impact on those around us. We are now slowing down, cruising to the finish. We still have our roles, and we still are busy. But for many of us, the big stuff is back in that 70-year chunk of time we have already lived, not in the

By Jan Stadtherr Spring is the long-awaited season between snow shovels and mosquitoes. By the time spring arrives, most of us are emotionally prepared for it long before Mother Nature gets around to it. Spring is that hopeful time of year when we look out the window, see a patch of bare ground, and announce with confidence, “Winter is over.” This statement is usually followed within 48 hours by a blizzard, but optimism is part of the tradition. When we were young, spring mea

By Rhea Eblen of Belgrade My mom and dad were married in the 1930s. I don’t know how they met. After they were dead, I asked my mom’s sister how my mom and dad met. “Why didn’t you ask them when they were alive?” she said. My mom died when I was eight or nine – couldn’t ask her. My dad worked so hard, doing his best to raise a daughter all alone. Then I was growing up and not interested at the time. I knew my mom was raised on a farm. It was in Iowa. They moved two or three t

By Gary Schafer of Gibbon Back in the days of 1960-1961, a group of young men/ boys in Buffalo Lake and Hector, Minn. formed a car club. Those were the days of the loud mufflers, drag racing and “squealing tires.” They called the club “Turtles,” as S. Reuber had a ‘52 green Chevy that wasn’t the fastest car “on the block.” Thus, the “Turtle” became the logo for the club. The club had 10 members, many of whom were brothers, cousins or just guys in town who loved cars. They wer

You are going to love the February editions of Senior Perspective. Select the area, or check out the stories from other parts of Minnesota and North Dakota. All the great local advertisers can be in these full papers, along with the puzzle, jokes, recipes, and more for you and your friends to enjoy. Lindbergh Edition All around Mille Lacs Lake and specially tailored to the areas near Brainerd, St. Cloud, Little Falls, Princeton. Freezin’ for a reason; Honoring Jackson. Prairi

Winter is a beautiful season if you can get through all of the snow. Kristie Flachmeyer of Litchfield, Minn. shared this photo of pine tree branches dusted with fresh-fallen snow with a winter-white church in the background. Here is a stunning photo of the Nan Lian garden’s golden pavilion and red bridge in Hong Kong. Taken by Muriel Coulter of Tracy, Minn. while on her Japan trip. Steve Boogaard of Marshall, Minn. was on an Alaska trip with family and captured many photos to

Columnist publishes first novel at age 63 By Jillian Kellerman Carrie Classon of St. Paul has changed gears a few times in her life and has not been afraid to try new things. Her most recent venture has been publishing a novel. Contributed photo You may recognize the name Carrie Classon, as we publish her column, The Postscript , here in the pages of Sr. Perspective . Carrie started out self-syndicating her column before it was picked up by Andrews McMeel Universal. The Posts

Woman and son jump in icy waters each winter for Special Olympics By Bill Vossler Lisa is just hitting the water in a recent Polar Plunge. Also gives a sense of other people lined up to do the plunge shortly. Contributed photo When Lisa Edelbrock of St. Cloud steps up to a large hole in the ice, wearing a two-piece bikini, leggings, and sandals, feeling the sharp January wind whip at her--for the 18th consecutive year, again she thinks, “What am I doing here?” What she is doi