Category Archives: Bob

Bob’s proposal

Going to friend/co-woker Judy and David’s wedding.

On August 8, 1973, Bob and I were driving back from a supply run to Farm and Fleet in Kankakee, Illinois. If it was one of our usual trips, we had lunch at the Wagon wheel restaurant. They had the best fried catfish!

Bob said he wondered if we should keep dating. It kind of sounded like he was breaking up with me. After dating for two years he couldn’t see where we were going.

I don’t exactly how we got around to the word marriage, but it eventually came up.

It went something like this.

Me: Bob, I never agreed to marry you because you never asked. You’ve got to ask me.

Bob: Well, do you want to?

That was his proposal. It wasn’t until last year, when we were at a family gathering, that he admitted he’d been trying to figure out how to ask me to marry him. That was nice to hear.

At least we were both on the same page.

Four months later we had a church wedding, surrounded by all our friends and family.

Best friends forever and we meant it.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

Column from last July

I’ve been reading old columns on YouTube. Yesterday I thought I’d do something more recent. I chose one from last summer when Bob’s cancer treatments were working and he and I could happily work together. It turns out I couldn’t read it, but I’ll share it here instead.

A new adventure for the Manzkes

July 2019

When Bob and I lived in Illinois, we grew sweet corn to sell. Bob would pick it early in the morning into the back of the pickup truck. He’d then park the truck in the yard and put a sign up: fifty cents a dozen, self-serve. We never took our corn or pumpkins to a farmer’s market.

I’ve attended the Seymour Farmer’s Market many times in the past. Since we don’t grow much of a garden, I never even considered exhibiting. When I looked up the market on Facebook I saw the ‘about’ section said: Seymour Farmer’s Market has a venue of produce, crafts, and entertainment. “I do crafts and art,” I said. “We should set up at the Seymour Market.” The crazy thing is that Bob agreed.

Stashed in a shed I found the old canopy I used to use when I took my watercolor paintings to art fairs. To my astonishment, all of it was there. The two holes nibbled by mice were patchable. The only trouble was there weren’t any instructions on how to put up the canopy.

I started working on the assembly alone in our backyard, but I didn’t get very far. I needed help. Bob wandered out to see what I was doing and I drafted him to help.

There were all kinds of polls and six plastic connectors. All we had to do was to match everything up so it would stand on its four legs. I’m afraid that was easier said than done.

            Most of the braces and legs were the same length and could fit one into another. They even had numbers on them from 1 to 4. You’d think that meant four legs, but the 1s turned out to be part of the canopy roof arch.

            It took hours to get the stupid thing together, but we did it. It was a proud moment for us to stand under its shade.

            Okay, so we did this once, we shouldn’t have any problems when we took it to Seymour’s Farmer’s Market. Right?

            Lucky for us we got there early, because setting up that canopy was a bummer—and imagine I used to do it alone.

            Bob wasn’t much help our first Tuesday. I pulled all the parts out of the bag and put things on the ground in an orderly fashion—the canopy was very old fashioned compared to everyone else’s at the market. Since we were working from the ground up, Bob couldn’t bend to pick up parts. All he could do was hold the top and stop it from flying away.

            I put some of the legs together, but I couldn’t figure out how the plastic attachments connected them—and this is after practicing.

            Bob kept telling me I was doing it wrong, but he didn’t have very many ideas about how to get the darn bugger together.

            Did I mention it was a hot afternoon? Did I have to mention that I was totally frustrated?

            Somehow we got it together! Heavy sigh.

            The rest of the setup wasn’t hard: tables, chairs—painted tiles, copper trees, and my books were for sale.

            The rain didn’t come right away, but it did come. The only thing I had to worry about was my books. The other items could get wet. Luckily, it didn’t rain too hard and there wasn’t any wind to blow everything away.

            Our first afternoon had many highlights, like all the nice people who stopped by to visit.

We exhibited every Tuesday at the Seymour Farmer’s Market through August after buying a better canopy. (I wish I could say the same for 2020.)

Bob and I never went expecting big sales. Mostly it was to get out of the house and see people. We’d have lunch at the market and snacks, too. It was a good outing we could do together.

Here are some photos Bob took of me and our farmer’s market setup.

Susan with her books and more

Here’s a Farmer’s Market away from Seymour. There wasn’t a lot of traffic stopping by that day, but we still had fun.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

A Bob build

Years ago, when two young cats came to live with us, Bob extended the window sill in the kitchen. This was so Pete and/or Othello could sit and look out the window.

Bob never met Car-E, but I think he would be pleased to see my new cat is using the extended sill.

Today, Car-E watched a rain shower. Last night he was looking at chickens who had come up on the porch. He’s also observed outside cats, whom he might be related to.

Bob would have built many more climbing and perching shelves for our cats. He really liked seeing others who had upper shelves and tubes going from room to room for their cats.

As the other cats age they gave up on perching on the kitchen window sill.

Now it’s all Car-E’s.

“Mew,” said Car-E, which means, “thank you, Bob.”

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

Not just any ditch daisy

I’ve been on the lookout for ditch daisies to pop out along our road.

Bob would mow around them for me. He knew how much I like them.

Every year, I’ve broadcast some of the seeds around the farm. Too bad my efforts never took hold in my flower garden.

Still, some had to survive. Today I found a patch of long ditch grass dotted with daisies.

These are a gift for me from Bob.

Bob would have mowed that deep ditch. It is too high for me and any of my helpers.

I feel blessed to have found these today.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserve

Canna tubers are in because of Bob

My canna tubers came out of their basement quarantine yesterday. They seemed to have survived winter pretty well. I’m not so sure about the dahlias though.

I have never been very fond of planting spring tubers because, in this Wisconsin climate, they have to be dug up in the fall to keep them from freezing to death.

I prefer perennials. They return in most years without a problem.

Anyway, these tubers are back in the soil again. I felt I owed it to Bob to do this.

Last fall, Bob helped me dig up the tubers just before our early winter arrived.

Bob also helped dig up our potatoes, too.

As I planted the cannas, I thought of Bob.

Those cannas are lucky. They have a new life this summer all because of Bob.

Now I wait for rain and new sprouts from the fields and from my flower beds, and more memories of Bob.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved