Bdote!

This past weekend I went to an orientation class for a walk I will take later this month. The walk is a Nibi walk from Lake Phalen, along Phalen creek, to where the creek meets the Mississippi River.  I tried to map the route but I had trouble.  On the map it appeared Phalen Creek just disappeared into nothing. Now I know why I had trouble. When the railroads came into Saint Paul a decision was made to divert the creek into a sewer pipe so the tracks could be built on solid ground. Because the water travels through a sewer instead of the earth, the water is more polluted than it needs to be.  There are plans to bring Phalen Creek back up again because they figure it will be 80% cleaner water if they do.  For this Nibi walk we do not have to go into the sewer.  An artist will explore the path of the submerged creek and mark the path we walk on the streets above with some kind of artwork. Nibi is the Anishinabe word for water. Nibi walks have been going on for centuries but I had never heard of them until recently. Another new word I learned at this orientation is Bdote.  Bdote is the sound newborns make when they make their first breaths.  In my life I have been lucky to hear the Bdote of 5 people. Actually I heard more than that because when you wait around in the visitor lounge of a maternity ward, you hear a lot of Bdote. I am not counting the Bdote of strangers. The five Bdotes I am counting are people in my life that I know and love.

Cold Feet!

I had a plan to hang up my kayak in the garage today. And I did hang it up in the garage.  But before that I took it over to Crooked Lake and paddled around.  I was cold.  I was so cold I went fast and now I have a blister on my right hand. The water temperature was about 50 degrees and my toes were pink and cold.  After a while the coldness of the water seeped into the plastic of the kayak and my rear end was cold too.  I saw many things though to keep me entertained and my thoughts off of being cold. I was staring at this bunch of mallards for a long time before I saw the great blue heron.  I also saw an eagle, some kind of warbler, and a flock of seven Canadian geese that flew right over my head.

This is the public beach on Crooked Lake where I used to take my offspring swimming many, many years ago.

Vegan Leather?

I was shopping for a birthday gift today.  As I wandered the store looking for what I thought the birthday person would want, I walked by the luggage and hand bags. On one round display table were some brown and black bags. At the top of the table was a big sign that read (I am not making this up), "VEGAN LEATHER." What the heck is vegan leather?  Leather doesn't eat.  Leather is animal skin.  How can there be such a thing as vegan leather? Calling a pleather or plastic  handbag vegan leather is like making a silk purse out of a sow's ear.

Harmonica Class #2

My second harmonica class was a mind bending experience.  I was reminded of chemistry class in 11th grade. We told Mr. Stanley that we were not understanding him.  He told us we were marching through this textbook whether we understood it or not. What I heard from that was the chemistry textbook was more important than the students.  My harmonica teacher isn't like that, at least I hope not.  He is pushing us.  He was talking straight harp versus cross-harp.  First position is straight harp.  Second position is cross harp. During class he expected us to memorize a twelve measure song with the chord number and the note number.  Everybody was a little confused. We also practiced stopping the music with our throats instead of our lungs. We squeeze our muscles in our necks. We practiced. We sounded like a room full of people choking. The woman sitting next to me knows music and her questions didn't help me at all because between her question and his answer I was all the more confused.  I got some of it though.  I have a few more days to practice. The last thing he asked us to practice was the train sounds.  I have the music for the train chugging and the train whistle.  I am sure I will get it.  I am very good at "Mary Had A Little Lamb," already!

Creative Ways To Stop A Child from Crying

Tonight after work I went to the gym to swim some laps and to wash away all the work worries. Two kids were having swimming lessons in the last two lanes.  One was a boy. His little head was no match for his swim goggles.  The goggles were so big five inches of goggle strap stuck out from the sides of his head like the barbels on a bullhead fish. He was smiling with his instructor and I heard him ask who I was when I walked by. The other swimming student was a girl who also wore goggles and pig tails and a two piece swimsuit with a red skirt. She was screaming bloody murder.  "I don't want to do this!" she said. A woman sitting right there in a chair appeared to be grading papers.  I heard her tell the girl she was going to do this.  I assumed she was the mother of twin swimming students. The girl continued to scream at the top of her lungs as I put on my cap and goggles.  I watched the instructor take the girl by the hands and dip her head under the water. Silence from the girl. As soon as she was lifted above water the screaming commenced.  Again the girl was dipped under the chlorinated water. Silence. Up she comes and she takes in a breath before screaming again. Down she goes.  Silence.  I think to myself, as I start my laps, this is a very creative way to stop a kid from crying.  I swim for about 15 minutes. As I leave the pool the girl is still crying and her brother is still smiling. The girl cries softer though.  Her little lungs are getting quite the workout today.

The Marsh King's Daughter

I got lucky when I picked up this book by Karen Dionne at the library.  The Marsh King's Daughter is a fairy tale by Hans Christian Anderson. A part of the fable is revealed in each chapter of this book. The setting is the upper peninsula of Michigan which is a place I have always wanted to visit.  Now I want to go there even more.  I want to visit Sault Saint Marie and Marquette and the marshes in between the towns.  The narrator is the story is Helena. She grows up in the marsh isolated from all but her parents.  She knows how to track animals, to forage for food, to hunt, to fish, and how to trap animals. She has a Bowie knife and she knows how to use it. She knows that when you slit the throat of an animal you must angle your body so the blood doesn't hit you in the face. Although this is not a true story, it is very believable and I am glad I found it on the shelves.

Anoka County Riot Control

I decided a while ago to have my septic tank pumped.  I wasn't having any problems. The recommended time between septic tank pumping is three years and I was way overdue.  I called several companies and finally connected with one that is local to me.  I signed up for the first one of the day.  I thought I would be a couple hours late to work and would have to pay less than $500.  I was wrong and wrong again. S__t happens, as they say. When he opened the manhole (sexist term!) cover he saw the level of liquid was above the floats. He asked if my lift pump alarm sounded.  I said it did not.  He thought the circuit box had been tripped. I went to look.  Yes, it was tripped. I flipped that circuit breaker on and a loud ugly noise turned on. I went outside to tell him about the loud noise when I saw there was smoke coming out of the hole in the ground. We were both astounded at the sight of smoke coming out of a deep cistern of human waste. He pulled the plug on the pump which you can see in the photo there in the upper left corner. He said the lift pump must have burned out and turned off the circuit breaker. He was sorry to inform me that septic tank lift pumps are $800.  I raised an eyebrow, shrugged, and said, "It's only money."  As my septic tank issues were resolved I did yard work and chicken duties.  I was only 3 1/2 hours late for work.  As I paid my bill I saw on the side of the truck were the words "Anoka County Riot Control." Sometimes when people riot they are sprayed with liquid from a truck. If anyone aimed liquid from that truck on me I would turn and run home mighty quick. I am thankful this problem was discovered now. I would not want the liquid from that septic tank backing up into my basement this winter.  No, thank you!