This picture was painted by a local artist--Tess Fenzel in 1941. It is the paper mill which is the center of industry for Park Falls. The bridge in the distance I have crossed hundreds of times. I have had several dreams over the years of having to cross it and it was partially washed out or under construction. I had to walk very carefully along the edge so I wouldn't slip in. In some dreams many people are swimming in the river trying to get out. Weird.
Park Falls is the RUFFED GROUSE CAPITAL of the WORLD. And you have been missing it.
Park Falls was featured in a hunting magazine not too many years ago.
Above, a mural to enjoy; a slice of evergreen that was the national Christmas tree in 1983: a souvenir cup friendly for both right and left handed folks; a thick book full of local history. (I purchased the cup and the book.)
I needed to stop at the grocery to buy eggs. I was greeted by two buddies helping out the needy Salvation Army donation fund. I also loaded up on BOXES. While in town I met up with a few more friends to say goodbye to.
This afternoon it was back to "purging". It was heart wretching to discard projects and report cards from the kids' school days. There isn't room or time to organize or store them . It was fun to stop and relive certain events. But, also, there just isn't time to linger.
It seems the more I purge there's all the more to purge. Hope the boxes and drawers of stuff dwindles in a day or two.
This has been a good PF nostalgia day in the life of Grandma G.
"God sends his love and his faithfulness." (Psalm 57:3)
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