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.

2007.01.24 Read it and weep

Written by David Green.

By COLLEEN LEDDY

My sleeping pattern is beginning to irritate my husband. When left to my own devices, my body inclines toward bedding down at 4 a.m. and waking at noon. This schedule harkens back to college days when I rarely took morning classes. I knew in high school that I would never realize my lifelong dream to be a farmer when, finally given the opportunity to work on a farm, I cringed daily when awakened at 5:30 a.m.

David might not mind my habits so much if I just slipped quietly and unobtrusively into bed, but most nights, especially in the winter, I create a disturbance as I trip over laundry baskets or knock a pile of clothes off my dresser as I add my recently removed sweatshirts and scarf to the mess. And then I fiddle around my bedside table looking for my bed socks. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and I usually send my reading lamp or a box of tissues to the floor as I feel around for the socks.

My feet are freezing, heck, my whole body is ice cold, and I don’t want to shock the heck out of David as I ease my way under the covers. But try as I might, I almost never fail to wake him out of his slumber. In my defense, he is an incredibly light sleeper. Even when I am as quiet as the proverbial mouse, even if he is snoring like a bear in winter, just my mere presence seems to wake him.

It was 5:30 in the morning last week and I had just snuggled into bed. I was deep under the feathers when the idea for a summer reading program theme hit me. The general topic at the library this summer is food and I’ve been kicking around several catchy phrases for several months now, but this was a really good one.

“Read it and eat!” I said aloud, delighted with myself. David had been stirring, so I figured he was awake.

“Read it and eat.”

“Read it and eat.”

“Read it and eat.”

“I don’t have any paper up here,” I said. “I’ve got to remember it. Read it and eat. Read it and eat.”

“Shut up and sleep!” David responded groggily.

I know he’s getting annoyed.

“I want to hear you make a pledge about when you’re going to go to bed tonight,” David said amiably Sunday night after I’d been consistently climbing into bed around 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning.

“I’m gonna try to go to bed at 1:00,” I said, “but I might be in the middle of something.”

“Just put it down and go to bed,” he advised.

“You’ve been married to me for almost 25 years...” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but I slept through most of those years,” he said.

I laughed, but I made a very concerted effort to go to bed early Sunday night. I made it by 1:30, but, unable to sleep, read until 2:30. And then I had the most bizarre dreams. I woke at 9:00 feeling as if I had never slept at all. This early-to-bed business just doesn’t sit well with me.

I will keep trying because I love my husband and he is good to me. Just this evening when I was making dinner and complained of a pounding headache, he retrieved the aspirin for me so I wouldn’t have to dry my hands.

And, in anticipation of frying smells, he offered to replace the nice jacket I had on with the more casual one hanging in the bathroom. We’re always trying to avoid smelling like fried onions.

“It’s the pink one,” I said, referring to a pink sweatshirt with a zippered fleece inside—a double layer against the cold of our house.

As he put the pink sweatshirt through one arm while I pulled cloves of garlic from the bulb, I noticed the inside layer was missing.

“What about the orange one that goes inside?” I asked

He muttered something about pulling that one out because I asked for the pink one, but went to retrieve it

“If you think this is orange...” he started, as he brought it into the kitchen.

“Don’t argue with me,” I warned, head still pounding. “I think I may have a cerebral hemorrhage.”

“There’s not enough cerebral to hemorrhage,” he countered.

He is right, of course. The inside fleece is more maroon than orange. But I’ve moved on to the chopping stage and I’m holding the knife.

    - Jan. 24, 2007 

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