The Weekly Newspaper serving the citizens of Morenci, Mich., Fayette, Ohio, and surrounding areas.

  • KayseInField
    IN THE FIELD—2004 Morenci graduate Kayse Onweller works in a test plot of wheat in Texas. She’s part of Bayer CropScience’s North American wheat breeding program based in Nebraska, where she completed post-graduate work in plant breeding and genetics.
  • Front.winner
    REFEREE Camden Miller raises the hand of Morenci Jr. Dawgs wrestler Ryder Ryan as his opponent leaves the mat in disappointment. Morenci’s youth wrestling program served as host for a tournament Saturday morning to raise money for the club. Additional photos are on the back page.
  • Front.bank.2
    SHERWOOD STATE Bank opened its Fayette office at a grand opening Friday morning, drawing a large crowd to view the renovated building. Above, Burt Blue talks to teller Cindy Funk, while his wife, Jackie, looks around the new office. The Blues missed the opening and took a quick tour on Tuesday. Few traces remain of the former grocery store and theater, however, part of the original brick wall still shows in the hallway leading to the back of the building. The drive-through window should be ready for customers later in the month.
  • Front.carry.casket
    CARRYING—Riley Terry (blue jacket) and Mason Vaughn lead the way, carrying an empty casket outside to the hearse waiting at the curb. Morenci juniors and seniors visited Eagle Funeral Home last week to learn about the role of a funeral director and to understand the process of arranging for a funeral.
  • Front.lift
    MORENCI student Dalton McCowan puts everything into a dead lift attempt Saturday morning during the Wyseguy Push/Pull event. Lifters helped raise more than $1,600 for the family of the late Devin Wyse, a former Morenci power-lifter who graduated last year. Commemorative T-shirts are still available by contacting teacher Dan Hoffman.
  • Front.make.three
    FROM THE LEFT, Landon Wilkins, Ryan White and Logan Blaker try out their artistic skills Saturday afternoon at the Morenci PTO’s first Date to Create event. More than 50 people showed up to create decorated planks of wood to hang from rope. The event served as a fund-raiser for miscellaneous PTO projects. Additional photos are on the back of this week’s Observer.
  • Front.F.office
    NEW OFFICES—Fayette village administrator Steve Blue speaks with tax administrator Genna Biddix at the new front desk of the village office. Village council members voted to use budgeted renovation funds targeted for the old office and instead buy the vacant bank building on the corner of Main and Fayette streets. The old office was sold to Sherwood State Bank. When everything is put into place in the spacious new village office, an open house will be scheduled. Council member David Wheeler donated all of his time needed to make changes in the bank interior to fit the Village’s needs.

2012.02.15 She may be nuts, but doesn't faze her husband

Written by David Green.

This was a week when grant writing for the library won out over column writing for the Observer. Here’s a repeat from March 30, 2005. It’s a little hard to believe that just seven years ago I was worrying about Maddie driving to Adrian and back. Now I get to worry about her hitch-hiking in New Zealand.

By Colleen Leddy

I’m surprised that nobody has said out loud, at least not to me anyway, how horrible I must be to live with. OK, 16-year-old Maddie hints at it on a regular basis. It’s true; recently, I’ve been in a heightened state of obnoxiousness. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that I am aware of my shortcomings—so aware, in fact, that I can even give warning, “Look out!” I say. “I’m a witch with a capital B!”

Other times, I’m just plain disconnected with reality, and I put my poor youngest through the mill.

Maddie went to Adrian Saturday night, driving there without a grown-up in the vehicle for the first time, and I made her call me when she got there, when she left the first store, when she got to the mall, when she left the mall, when she got to the next store, when she left that store and then when she arrived back in the Morenci area at her boyfriend’s house.

She had insisted before leaving town that I was nuts for wanting her to call so much, but she did as she was told—over and over, all seven times. I think she was trying to teach me a lesson—after about the fourth call, I realized I was indeed nuts and jokingly said, “Quit calling so much!”

But that doesn’t concern me as much as this really weird psychosomatic thing I’ve got going on. Now in the past, (OK, I still do it.) I’ve read articles of a medical nature and when I read all the symptoms, I’m usually ticking them off in my head: yup, got that, got that too, uh huh, that sounds like me, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseam. David has seen me through heart disease, stroke, diabetes, lupus, colon cancer, ovarian cancer, fibroid tumors and a host of other ailments that I think, for a moment, have stricken me.

“It’s a wonder you’re not dead,” he said the other day when I read aloud the symptoms of yet another condition.

That’s nothing compared to what’s been happening lately. Maddie mentioned that her knee hurt after running at track practice. Later, she was chatting online with Rozee who was talking about the pain from her floating knee cap and whether she would be able to run track for Berea College this season. Not two minutes later, my knee started hurting.

And then, after David had been X-rayed for a frozen shoulder, my shoulder started to hurt.

Maybe it’s the full moons, maybe it’s pre-menopause, maybe it’s mid-life crisis, but I know that I’m going through a...well, let’s hope that’s all it is...a phase. It’s not just being way over-protective with the baby of the family or mirroring the pain of my family members—there’s my diminished mental capacity all around. But at least I’m going down in good company.

A couple of weeks ago, David was looking for a needle to sew a button on a favorite shirt. It’s a ratty looking shirt, not worth repairing in my estimation, but I guess he likes it enough to go to the trouble of fixing it. I think it’s just a reflection of my stressed out state that plants me firmly as a member of the throwaway society. I don’t really want to be associated with that contingent of Americans, but I find that I am making some really poor choices lately.

OK, I confess. It’s not just lately. For example, I’ve been secretly throwing away tomato sauce jars for some time now rather than washing them out and placing them in the recycle bin. But in our house, a jar of sauce sits awhile in the fridge before it’s totally consumed—long enough that it accumulates dried tomato matter around the rim, like stuff on a ketchup bottle. I just can’t get up the gumption to swipe the sponge around that goop. So when David isn’t looking, I toss the offenders in the garbage.

This is a major digression here, because I really was just going to mention how, when David was looking for the needles, I was only vaguely aware that he was going from room to room downstairs, looking in the likeliest needle havens and coming up empty.

“I think there are some noodles upstairs,” I said, completely unaware that I had substituted the word noodle for needle.

“I don’t need any noodles now,” David said without skipping a beat and headed upstairs.

He responded in a matter-of-fact way, as if perhaps, at some point in time he might be combing the house for noodles, but just not now.

It’s quite heartening, because when  my dementia really sets in, David won’t be fazed at all.

I just hope that’s a phase he never outgrows.

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