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

  • Front.cheers
    MACEE BEERS joins other Fayette Elementary School students for the annual Mini-Cheer performance during the half-time break at the basketball game.
  • Family.3.wide
    CHILDREN at Stair District Library’s Family Story Time toss scarves into the air during an activity. The evening program provided a mix of stories, songs, dancing, crafts and snacks Monday evening. The program is offered at 5:30 p.m. every Monday for five more weeks. The program is designed for three to five year olds and their family.
  • Front.newpaper.2
    THE INTERVIEW—Evelyn Joughin (right) records the interaction with an iPad while Jack Varga, next to her, asks questions of Morenci Elementary School principal Gail Frey. Morenci senior Sam Cool (standing) listens. Cool serves as the editor for the newspaper written by members of Mrs. Barrett’s second grade class.
  • Front.code.2
    WRITING CODE—Brock Christle (left), a Morenci fifth grade student, takes a look at the progress being made by fourth grader Anthony Lewis. Libby Rorick, a sixth grade student, is next in a line of girls trying out the coding tutorials. This year marked Morenci’s second year of participation in the Hour of Code project.
  • Front.gym.new
    REMIE RYAN (left) tries to dodge the foam wand held by Hayden Bays during physical education class at Morenci Elementary School. In the background, Lauryn Dominique and Brooklyn Williams stay clear of the tag. Second grade students were working on cardiovascular health on the first day back from vacation. For the record, Safety Tag is a very difficult sport to photograph.
  • 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.library.books
    MACK DICKSON takes a book off the “blind date” cart at the Fayette library. Patrons can choose a book without knowing what’s inside other than a general category. The books are among those designated for removal so patrons can consider them gifts. In Morenci, new books and staff favorites were chosen from the stacks and must be returned. Patrons get a piece of chocolate, too, to take on their date, but no clue about their “date.” One reader said she really enjoyed her book for a few pages, but then lost interest—so typical for a blind date.

2002.09.11 Forget the expectations, surprise me with bubbles

Written by David Green.

I am giddy, expectation whirls me round.

The imaginary relish is so sweet

That it enchants my sense.

—Shakespeare

By COLLEEN LEDDY

My kids and I headed to New York last Wednesday evening to celebrate my Aunt Mary’s 60th birthday. Her children arranged the affair: a Saturday night surprise party at a Knights of Columbus Hall in the Bronx.

David and I had been to the funeral of his Uncle Bill earlier in the day and the gravity of that occasion made me wonder what I was doing devoting the next few days traveling to and being in New York for just a birthday party—and merely a 60th one at that. But the death of my mother has made me realize the importance of family and maintaining connections with them, being there for landmark events, sharing happy times as well as sad.

My kids surprised me by wanting to go also—even though it meant missing two days of school. We’re an odd lot—I’m a mother who encourages them to skip school for worthwhile excursions and diversions, or even just to take a break from the routine; they are kids who enjoy school and hate to miss class.

So we set out, eagerly anticipating our first stop, the Panera restaurant at the service plaza about two hours from Morenci. And what a disappointment to discover they were not serving food—they’d had a power outage and were not yet back in operation.

“Oh, I’m so bummed,” I said to the kids. “I had just been contemplating my soup choices—black bean or lentil.”

“Yeah, cream of broccoli or potato,” said Rosie.

She was in the same boat—the one where eager expectation drops to deep displeasure. At times like that, I have a tendency  to think, Is this a sign? Is this how the whole trip will go? It seemed it would after having to settle for McDonald’s at the next service plaza. But my outlook improved when we stopped for the night in Clarion, Pa., where our favorite cheap, clean, quiet, comfortable hotel, Microtel, came through with its usual high quality service.

I’m more likely to keep expectations low so I won’t be disappointed—especially after missing out on lentil soup—so it was such a treat to lie back in bed, road weary but without worry, and just contemplate the events of the day—from the solemnity of the funeral to the silly snatches of conversation heard along the way. Conversation with my daughters that uses very few words:

“Are those Munchables, Maddy?” I ask about the crackers I hear her eating in the back seat.

“Munch ’ems?” she asks, the one word standing for a whole sentence: Do you mean this box of sour cream and onion Munch ’ems here?

“Wheatables?” says Rosie with a smile, meaning “Are you talking about the box of Wheatables crackers and you’re just a little mixed up?”

 High expectations, low expectations...and no expectations. Sometimes having no expectations in life elicits the most fun of all—like this scenario at the service plaza on the turnpike:

I attempted to wash my hands but the soap dispenser was empty. I tried the next one in the long bank of sinks but it was empty, too.

“I’ve got the soap down here,” a woman said. She’d been fixing her hair in front of the mirror and I thought she was just a fellow traveler.

But she was the attendant and boy, did she have soap—a great gallon jug full of it.

“Here honey,” she said and tipped the jug as I held my hands underneath.

“Whoa, whoa, that’s good!” I said, laughing at the massive gob of liquid soap in the palms of my hands. As I lathered and blobs of soap fell into the sink, she went back to looking at herself in the mirror.

“Oh, I look tired,” she moaned.

“It’s the lighting,” I said.

“And my hair,” she said, as she ran her fingers through it. “It looks terrible.”

On the other side of the attendant, another lady pumped the soap dispenser to no avail.

“Here! here! I’ve got the soap,” the attendant called out. I laughed to myself knowing what was coming: the tip of the jug and then...

“Whoa, whoa!” the lady said. That’s enough to take a bath.”

“Yeah, let’s just plug the sink and take a bubble bath,” said the attendant.

Now wouldn’t that be an unexpected surprise for a weary traveler.

    – Sept. 11, 2002 

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