I Made A Walrus

Today was a beautiful day outside.  The temperature went up to 60 degrees in February no less.  I saw people walking their dogs, biking, motorcycling, and pulling children in a wagon.  How did I enjoy my afternoon outside?  I set my yard on fire.  In the prairie area east of the house I set about 15 fires.  I did it safely.  I lit one at a time.  With the wet ground and the snow piles, I didn't think things would get out of hand.

Hopefully my big bluestem and Indian grass will grow better after the burn.  Plus I got to indulge the pyromaniac side of me. I could actually hear the snow sizzle on this fire.

When I light a circle of grass, I don't know which way the fire will grow.  In this case the fire formed a cursive capital F (for fire maybe) and a walrus.

Killed By A What?

Today I read an article in the Duluth News Tribune about an incident that happened in Spring Valley, Wisconsin last year on the 4th of July.  This is just such a strange story you know it's not fiction.  A local farmer hears noises at the neighboring farm.  She thinks she hears the sound of a cannon over and over again but she doesn't complain because she doesn't want to disrupt the party.  The next day she goes into her barn where she finds a hole in the roof of the barn and a bowling ball in hay of the horse stall.  She calls the police to complain.  Later she finds one of her horses dead in the pasture with a bump on it's head and a bowling pin nearby.  She finds bowling pins and bowling balls all over the pasture. Police investigate the matter.  The neighbor admits her brother was firing a cannon at her house at her 4th of July party.  She said he said it was safe.  She said he said all the bowling balls would land on her property and be buried deep into the soil.  Well, he was wrong.  He was so wrong he put a hole in the roof of a barn and killed a horse with a bowling pin.  He killed a horse by shooting a bowling pin out of a cannon.  Geez!  What are the chances?  And why can't I be invited to fun parties where cannons are fired?

Nurse Jackie

I like a story well told and the HBO series, "Nurse Jackie," is  a story well told.  I borrowed the series from my local library because I don't have cable television and last night I finished season 7; the final season.  I couldn't stop thinking about Jackie.  Jackie.  She is a sinner.  She is a saint.  Jackie is an addict.  And just when I think, "Oh, she wouldn't do that," Jackie does just that.  Jackie is fascinating but so is Zooey and Coop and Eddie and Nurse Akilitis and Thor and Jackie's two daughters.  "Nurse Jackie" is just a story but I'm going to miss these people and I'm going to miss All Saints Hospital in Manhattan.

Innocent Child

As I approached the building where I work this afternoon, I saw a parent and a child on the sidewalk nearing the first lane of traffic in the parking lot.  The parent was not holding the child's hand.  The child looked to be about three years old.  I heard the parent say, "What are you, stupid?  Don't you know enough to watch for cars in the parking lot?"  I've seen other examples of less than optimal parenting styles in the building but this one made my eyes well up.  I need to remember this interaction.  The next time I encounter someone who is rude or angry or who seems to have an overabundance of emotional baggage, I want to remember this child I saw today. I wish I could inoculate them with resilience.  I can't fix it.  I'm pretty sure this child will have issues as an adult. What I can do is try to refrain from judging people.  What I can do is try to make all my interactions with others a positive experience or at least a neutral experience.  I can try to avoid negative interactions with others.  It's the least I can do.  That poor kid today was just an innocent child.

The Book of Life

I read Upton Sinclair's The Book of Life: Volume 1, Mind and Body.  I thought it would be interesting to read something by Sinclair since he was a prize winning journalist and I already loved his book The Jungle.  The Jungle exposed the dark side of the meat packing industry and the Food and Drug Administration was started in part because of this novel.   I liked that story and that is why I chose this one which is full of advice from Upton to us.  After reading this book, if I had to picture Upton Sinclair he would look like Bernie Sanders.  Sinclair was a socialist.  He writes about the dangers of capitalism.  He was a free thinker.  I find it incredible that this book, written in 1921, nearly 100 years ago, talks about current events like diet and disease, vaccines, and the health benefits of nature.  One of the things he write very early in the book has stuck with me for weeks now.  He wrote that the pursuit of money is human cannibalism.  How could that be?  I work for money.  I pursue money by working 40 hours a week.  Am I a cannibal?  A cannibal eats the flesh of another animal of the same kind.  I don't do that!  But then I started thinking about people who pursue money more seriously than I do.  What about Martin Shkreli?  Is he a cannibal?  He changed the price of a pill that fights parasites from $13.50 to $750.  Why did he raise the price that much?  He says, and I quote, "If there was a company that was selling an Aston Martin at the price of a bicycle, and we buy that company and we ask to charge Toyota prices, I don’t think that that should be a crime".  I think Upton Sinclair is right.  The single-minded pursuit of money makes us cannibals.  Martin Shkreli is a cannibal and he's not the only one.  This book is old but still true.

Three Years Ago

Just three years ago I was in the land down under, eating Vegemite on my toast and driving on the other side of the road.  My trip to Australia was really fabulous and I wish I could do it again with my new hip and improved gait.  I doubt it would be nearly as grand as the first time though.  Australia has so many things to see.  I could spend weeks there and not even go to the same cities or roads.  It's the sixth largest country.  The nature there was fabulous but other countries have nature too and I might as well explore other parts of the world before returning to Australia.  Three years have gone by already.  Life goes fast sometimes.

The End

Yesterday I heard a story about a young woman who quit her job.  To mark the occasion she held a ceremonial burning of her uniform.  I saw pictures of the uniform burning.  Someone must have soaked it in a bit of fuel because that thing was burning 18 inches up into the air.  The pictures I saw on the phone were quite awesome.  The same day I hard about a football player ending his career with a picture of him riding off into the sunset. I like ceremonial endings like that.  I believe it is important to mark transitions with symbols and celebrations. Life is short.  Why not celebrate all that we can?