gregschiller-blog

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Poitin (Irish Moonshine)

I once spent a rainy summer walking through Ireland and stayed for a couple weeks at an inn so isolated that the nearest pub was three miles away. In Ireland that says a great deal. The pub wasn’t really that far, close enough to hear a dog bark, a rooster crow or a mother call for her children – but between where I stayed and where I drank lay a bog.   A ditch cut a line through the bog and…

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I'd Do Anything For Love (but I won't cook that)

We all have household chores that we like to do. We also have tasks that we get stuck with because we do them better than our spouses. But then there are those things that we hate and are not good at – yet we do anyway. Which is what defines love. Real love has nothing to do with flowers. Nor gifts. Nor compliments, nor the kiss on the cheek. True love comes with a whole lot of muttering…

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My Muse on Strike

Today, my muse actually showed up on time. A first. “Let’s get started,” I said, always eager to begin.  She did not respond.  Which was typical. Let’s just say my muse and I do not share a healthy working relationship. As a muse, she has had sordid affairs with every demon of creative obstruction that there is and because of this we have wasted countless hours in sullen silence, tantrums and…

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Wrong Number

Many years ago, while working for the Minneapolis Police Department, I began receiving strange calls. Sometimes the callers left exotic messages in my voice-mail, other times they just hung up whenever I answered the phone. This went on for months. Although the calls came from different people, they followed a similar pattern. A shy, heavily accented voice would ask, “Uuuuh, Mista Chen?” I…

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Stan's Truck

It is good to have a friend like my buddy Stan. Admittedly, he can be a pain – because if he is not borrowing something he has no intention of returning, he is asking me to hold onto something that is not his. The guy is always in crisis, and always one of his own making. If he is not in trouble with the law, he is in worse trouble with one of his many tumultuous relationships. Despite all of…

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Advice

I wrote this essay fifteen years ago. It was one of my first, still it resonates with me now just as much as it did then. We moved from the woods long ago and the people who took over didn’t take care of things, so I don’t know if the cabin still stands – but for me, it will always be there. *** I am building a shed in my woods. When I am done, it will be a place to hide from the world and…

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Grandma's Giveaways

“Oh no, you don’t.” She ignored me and did what she came to do – add yet another item to THE PILE in my home office. Allow me to explain. THE PILE is what its name suggests,  yet another over-sized pile of random stuff that spontaneously sprouts up about here and there in our house. And while the home office may be mine – the pile is hers, which speaks for whose space this actually is. This…

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But It's Good for You!

The morning after I helped my neighbor shear his sheep, I could hardly get out of bed. All I had asked of my muscles is that they spend a few hours wrestling mutton. They said it was too much, so I ignored them. Now they were getting back at me. “Take an Ibuprofen,” my wife suggested. I didn’t say a word. I was too engrossed watching her.. First she removed the lid from the blender – then…

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Baskets

Oh, oh! Nothing was said. Nothing need be said. My wife had bought two decorative baskets that spoke louder than words.  What they said was, “You have to hang us up.” Notice the “you” part? This always happens.   She will buy something and leave it for me to hang, assemble or simply stash away in the storage room to be forgetten about.  The latter is my preference. The thing is, she is…

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Snob Chips

Right there in the junk food aisle of our little rural supermarket, I won the longest running squabble in the history of my marriage. It went down somewhere between the Buffalo Ranch Doritos and the Chili Cheese Fritos, but exactly where is not critical, what is important is that I finally and decisively won the Blue Corn Snob Chips War. It began like this. A few years ago, my sister asked us…

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Stan's Senior Moment

Ring! Ring! Who could be calling at this hour? Oh, that’s it: this hour.  Only one person would do that.  My old buddy Stan whose preferred time of crisis is somewhere around 4:00 am. “Stan?” ���Yeah?” “Why are you calling?” “I forgot.” “Okay, talk to you later.” “No, that’s just it. I was going to call you but I forgot what it was about.” “Uh-huh, so you called anyway?” “Exactly. I need…

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ServicePlus

Strange things happen around here. Some can be explained, others not – but all too often the explanations are stranger than the events. Take our thermostat. After we moved into our new house, my wife and I began squabbling over the room temperature. In the winter, it was too cold and in the summer too hot. I accused her of fiddling with the thermostat and of course she denied it. Then she had…

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Scruff's Worst Day Ever

Somewhere along the road running between here and there, a little beggar named Scruff plied his trade. Contrary to rumor, Scruff was neither a victim of misfortune nor particularly lazy, rather begging as a profession simply suited him.   Granted with begging the hours are long and the pennies few but since he maintained a level of aspiration below nothing, there was really very little to worry…

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Waffles

“I have a great idea.” My wife said this from the kitchen and it is from the kitchen, more than any other room, that she comes up with ideas for me to do things I do not want to do. “Why don’t you come into the living room and tell me about it,” I say. “Why should I do that?” she asks. “No reason,” I tell her. “Aren’t you going to ask me what my idea is?” “Sure, what is your…

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Highway Heaven

“STAN!” Beep!  Screech! “What?” “You just blew through a red light.” “Nah, it was yellow for a split second.” Hoooooonk!  “You just cut that guy off.” “He had plenty of room.” “His middle finger said he didn’t.” Thuwomp! “I suppose you didn’t notice the curb?” Stan turned back to look and for way too long there were no eyes on the road. “Traffic circles,” he said, “are stupid.” The man…

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Cooking With Peppers

My wife hates peppers about as much I love them. Years ago, I had to chose between her and peppers. I chose her but whenever she is away, I choose peppers. When she leaves for long weekends with her quilting friends, I wait until the trail of dust behind her car settles on the road – then I head for the grocery store. I buy green peppers, red peppers, yellow peppers and when they have them,…

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Rufus, the Delinquent Dragon

In the furthest back of beyond, there once was a place so poor that no one bothered to go there and so destitute that no one could afford to leave. It was a barren moonscape of burned rock capable only of producing a single meager crop – horseradish. The root is what everyone lived on and its pungent aroma permeated everything and left everyone with a perpetual belly-ache. Yet, what choice did…