She's Definitely a Cockerel

We've studied, observed, and contemplated and have come to the conclusion that Angela is not a lesbian hen but a slow-to-develop Ameracauna cockerel. Cockerels are roosters less than a year old. She is a he. Why is this so mind-bending for me? I just don't get it. She, I mean he, is just a chicken. Dwight was so different and we thought we only had one rooster, so we based all our assumptions on those facts. If Dwight is an Ameracauna chicken, he has recessive Ameracauna traits. He doesn't have the slate blue legs of an Americauna and he doesn't have the red ear lobes of an Americauna. He doesn't have the small comb on an Americauna. He has yellow legs, yellow ear lobes, and a big comb. What sealed Angela's masculinity for me was the spurs she, I mean he, has on the back of his legs. None of the hens have those spurs. From the first month we knew Angela was different. She was larger and more of a leader. When she started mounting other chickens, we thought she had gender issues. We thought she might be a lesbian chicken. Now we know she is a beautiful cockerel with silver and black feathers. This brings up more decisions to make. Do we continue to call her Angela or should we call her Angelo? Or, should we stick to the names from the television show, "The Office?" In that case, Angela could be Creed, Jim, Michael, Kevin, Stanley, Andy Bernard, or Ryan. Offspring #2 have discussed this at length but have not come up with any final decisions. Do we keep two roosters for only four hens? That would be wasting more than one third of our chicken feed and space for two eggless creatures. They're not pets, just chickens, right? Do we keep any roosters at all? Will two roosters keep my hens sexually exhausted? Or will two roosters better protect them from stray dogs, foxes and weasels? These chickens have brought us a fun, educational, and interesting past-time this summer. We've spent hours bonding and observing the chickens. It's been a hoot! Maybe next year I'll get one of those miniature cows. Then, like Bart Simpson, I can have a cow, man!

Potato Pancakes

Ever since I saw Julia and Julia, I've wanted to try out some of Child's French recipes. I borrowed a DVD from the library of her television show called, "The French Chef." The television episodes are a hoot. Her voice! No wonder she was mimicked on Saturday Night Live. She uses butter, cream, butter, cream, and a little more butter. She had one recipe for bouillabaisse. Oh, my God. The cod head she threw into that pot was larger than some beef heads I have seen. I preferred her episode on potatoes. Yesterday I used her recipe for potato pancakes, adapting it a little for the ingredients I had on hand.

Ingredients: enough fresh Yukon gold potatoes from the garden to equal 2 cups, shredded, 2 very small chicken eggs-fresh from the coop, 3 tablespoons of diced onion, 4 ounces of cream cheese, 1 pat of butter, salt and pepper to taste.

It is good to remember that raw shredded potatoes turn brown fast so have everything organized and ready to go before you start. Have the cream cheese setting out at room temperature for a while before you begin. Put the butter in the pan and turn the heat on medium. Shred the potatoes. Julia says the potatoes have to be dry to brown well. Set a small amount of shredded potatoes into a clean thin towel and wring the water out over the sink. I was surprised how much water came out! Put the dry potatoes in a bowl and repeat with the rest of the shredded potatoes. Add the onion, eggs, cream cheese, salt, and the pepper. Mix well. Put the potato mixture into the hot butter and even the mixture out with a spoon until the pancake is evenly thick. Let the bottom of the mixture cook on the stove until the crust turns brown. On the television show, Julia Child attempts to flip the pancake into the air. This scene is repeated in the movie version. She says one must have the "courage on one's convictions" to do this properly. Julia slides the pancake back in forth across the pan a few times, warming up. She throws the pancake into the air where it breaks apart. Some of it lands in the pan and some of it lands on the burner where it burns and smoke rises into her face. She says she didn't have the courage of her convictions that time. What a hoot. Personally, I don't believe that "courage of convictions" baloney. I broke the pancake in half with my spatula and turned the pancake over a half at a time. That works too. Cook the other side until it is evenly brown. Bon Appetit!

Lacking Luck With Laundry

I like to hang my laundry outside on Saturday mornings. The smell of wind dried sheets is a big pleasure for me. This year I haven't had to much luck. My clothesline broke in July. Three times I hung sheets outside only to run out there and save them from the rain. I really don't like having to take clothes off the line and put them in the dryer because it would have been a lot easier to just put them in the dryer in the first place. I replaced the clothesline in August. I tied it around the white oak and the cherry wood tree as usual. I've had the same two trees holding my clothesline for the past 17 years. This was my third rope. The first time I used the new rope the clothes sunk to the ground. I didn't tie the knot correctly. Extra rope slid through the knot. You ever try retying a knot with two loads of clothes hanging off it? It's not easy. The second time I used the new clothesline, it rained. The third time I used the new clothesline the top sheet sagged to the ground but it held. I just clipped the bottom hem up so it stayed off the ground. Today, I almost finished pinning two loads of clothes on the line when it broke. The oak tree broke the line, possibly on purpose. I think the oak tree had enough and used it's bark to cut my new clothesline in half. All my clean, Tide-scented clothes on the ground. I owe another dollar to my swearing fund which is not good but better than the twenty or thirty dollars worth of swear words that I ran though my mind but stopped short of saying out loud. No more buying clothesline at the grocery store. I'm getting tougher rope next time. I need rope that can handle the bark of an oak tree. Right now my semi-clean clothes are hanging on a wooden dryer rack on the deck. The sheets are draped over my swing. It's 5 o'clock and they're not quite dry yet.

Time Warp

The state fair has begun. Where has the summer gone? Why do the preferred days of summer seem to equal two days of dreaded winter? Too soon it will be dark when I leave in the morning and I'll have to put the motorcycle to rest for another season. Too soon I'll have to spray a fresh furnace filter with Lysol and turn the furnace on. Too soon I'll have to shut and lock all the windows at night. Too soon there will be no fresh flowers or produce from the garden. Someday, I will accomplish another item on my life list - to spend an entire winter in a temperate zone.

Angela or Angelo?

Last night I had company. We sat on the deck and observed the chickens. We talked about Angela (see above in black, white and silver feathers). She is different. I've known she's different. She is the largest hen. She is as large as Dwight. She is a different color. Her tail is gaudy and plummy, like Dwight's rooster tail. The other hens have non-descript tail feathers. Angela's comb is the largest and darkest of the hen combs but much smaller than Dwights. Angela is a leader and the other hens are followers. Angela is the first hen out of the coop. She is the last one in the coop at night. She goes where she wants to go. The other hens are following the others. When Dwight mounts a hen, Angela will grab that hen by the head feathers and climb on top of her too. Angela chases the hens and has even tried to chase Dwight. Dwight won't put up with it. I once saw Angela try to mount Dwight. In response, he chased her around the entire house twice. Offspring #2 reports that Angela has crowed 3 times. (Suddenly I sound biblical). I knew all these things and suspected Angela had gender issues but my visitor last night offered another explanation - Angela is really Angelo. She's a he. She was a mismarked rooster. Could this really be true? All the hens have green legs and Dwight has yellow. Angela has green legs and in my mind, that made her a hen. I truly don't know that much about Americauna chickens. Maybe some roosters have green legs too. Angela (or Angelo) remains a mystery.

I Get Paid For This!

Lately at work all my meetings have been going well. People are satisfied, happy, and content. I like that. A couple of those kinds of meetings make up for other awkward, intense, or downright uncomfortable meetings. Today I had a 1:30 meeting in Anoka. As I rode my motorcycle up and down Coon Rapids Boulevard on this day with perfect weather, I couldn't help but help but think, "I get paid for this! I get paid to ride my motorcycle on a sunny day. How lucky can I get?"

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle

"The Story of Edgar Sawtelle" was written by David Wroblewski. This book was written for dog lovers like me. Edgar is a boy growing up in Wisconsin with his mother and father. He lives a happy and safe life. His family has their own business, a business started by his Grandfather, a business raising dogs. The dogs are bred to have the best qualities in health and temperment and are sold only after a year of intense training. This book taught me a lot about the daily grind of training dogs to listen and obey commands. Edgar is 17 years old and a normal adolescent in every way except he is mute. His paternal uncle comes into his life and everything and everybody changes for the worse. Edgar escapes into the Wisconsin wilderness. I was hooked on this story from the beginning. Edgar and all the other characters are totally believable. As much as I loved the book, I hated the ending. If it wasn't such a good book, the ending would not matter as much as it does.

Chicken Update

So far we've gotten 8 eggs from our chickens. Most were smaller than the eggs you can buy at the store but one was of a good size. Inside the large egg we found two yolks. I've noticed lots of blue chicken droppings in the yard. At first I suspected the chickens found some wild grapes or other blue berries. Now I think these blue droppings are early, unformed eggs, or eggs without a hard shell. Offspring #2 calls them proto-eggs. I invited some friends over for omelets tomorrow. I guess I counted my eggs before they were laid because I'm going to have to buy some eggs to make omelets.

I've been debating the fate of Dwight all summer. He has not made any friends with his crowing at the crack of dawn. Now that dawn is at 6, it's not as bad but his 5 a.m. crowing was nearly the death of him. I don't need a rooster to get eggs. Hens can lay eggs without a rooster in the house. And he's not giving me any eggs. So why keep him? What benefit do I reap from the chicken feed he eats? I'm really not sure. He sure is pretty with his dark red, black, and teal feathers. My neighbor who also has chickens told me he will sound the alarm when a weasel or fox enters the yard. He offers some defense. She also says when it comes to weasels, chickens cannot win the fight. If I do get rid of him, now is the time to do it. This fall he will be good to eat. I know people who would be glad to take him off my hands. I go back and forth on the issue. In June and July, he was nearly a chicken dinner. Now I'm not so sure. The later sunrise goes in his favor. Also I heard young roosters crow more than mature roosters. As the years go by, he won't annoy me as much. Tonight when I put the chickens to bed, Dwight approached me with his sideways steps and his feathers all quivering. This is how he approaches his girls before he mounts them. I push him aside with my foot and say, "Get away from me you weirdo!" Dwight's future hangs in the balance.

.333 Average

Here are some instructions I got Sunday morning: "Put these things in your ears. Blade your body so you don't get knocked over. Line up the two bumps on the barrel. This is the safety on and this is the safety off. Pump it hard, don't do it soft. Put these two in down here. Aim right for it, don't lead ahead. The trigger is stiff so you'll have to give it a good pull." I went hunting for orange plates of clay with a 12 gauge shotgun lent to me by my nephew "R." Gun held tight and squinting into the blue sky, I yelled, "Ready!" A clay target sails into the sky. I follow it with the barrel of the gun and shoot just as it descends within 6 feet of the ground. I missed. I eject the shell and it falls smoking at my feet. I pump another shell into the chamber and yell, "Ready!" Nephew "D" pulls the string that sends the second clay target sailing into the air. I shoot at this one at the apex of it's flight. Missed again. I eject another smoking shell and pump the last one into the chamber. "Ready!" I really want to show these young punks that their aunt is a good shot. I must hit at least one of these targets to preserve my dignity. I took gun safety lessons at Roseville City Hall back in the 1960's. I was a good shot then. I remember how to shoot a gun. I'm no Annie Oakley but I'm not inexperienced either. I pull the trigger for the third time and that clay target is BLOWN TO SMITHEREENS! WoooHoooo!

362 Mile Trip

Because the weather was perfect and the timing just right, I was able to bike to Urbank and back this weekend. Biking in good weather on good roads is awesome but biking familiar roads that you've thought, "Wouldn't it be fun to ride my motorcycle on this road?" is awesomest. I took back roads of course. I traveled through Elk River, Otsego, St. Michael, Albertville, Buffalo, Maple Lake, South Haven, Eden Valley, Watkins, Paynesville (see photo of Lake Koronis above), Brooten, Belgrade, Regal (home of the Regal Eagles!), Glenwood, Alexandria, Leaf Valley and Urbank. I thought it would take forever and I would be exhausted. Actually, the ride seemed shorter than when I drive a car down Highway 94. Motorcycling on Highway 55 took 3 1/2 to 4 hours compared to 3 by car. And I wasn't tired. I stopped now and again to buy gas, swig some water, and walk around a little bit. I had to force myself to stop because I felt like I could have kept going without a break. On Saturday morning it was cool but I had lots of layers on. I could see tiny puff balls of clouds on the horizon. I watched the clouds grow and multiply. I could smell the ponds and lakes as I went by. I watched people mowing their grass after a week of rain. Cut grass laid on the side of the road and the smell drifted up and into my helmet. When I got to the farm I had a quick bite to eat and we went to the Douglas County Fair. We spent the afternoon there. The kids asked if I wanted to go on the rides like the Paratrooper, Gravitron, or Zippo. "Honey, I can't even look at those rides much less get on one. I had my ride getting up here." I watched lefse, krumkaka, rosettes and pizzelles being made. I had my cervical spine examined by a chiropractor. He says I have nerve impingement in 3 places. Now watch, my neck will start to hurt next. We saw all the livestock and had to touch each one. Riding home on Sunday was just as nice. I stopped at the Maple Lake cafe for lunch on the way home. What a great ride. I so want to do that again.

Abundance

Do your burr oaks have an abundance of acorns this year like mine do? I've never seen so many acorns. I have so many acorns it's become a hazard to walk across the lawn. The acorns roll under my feet making me lose my balance. They fall on the canoe sounding like firecrackers. The chicken run is covered with acorns. The path to the mail box and all around my tree swing is dotted with acorns. Does this mean we're in for a hard winter?

This Old House

Last weekend my friends and I drove around St. Cloud looking at houses where we used to live. One house looked the same but was situated next to the Islamic Center instead of a Baptist Church. Another house looked terrible - ugly and in need of repair. This a picture of our third house. You can see that it is being repaired. Our apartment was on the upper level and on the far left. We walked around the house and pointed out bedroom windows, kitchen windows, and living room windows. The house has a very large sloping lawn and across the road is Pleasant Lake. We had a lot of fun living out in the country. This is the house where I learned how to make chili. I remember asking how much chili powder to put in and was told, "One can." One can makes GOOD chili and I can't think how many batches of chili I've made since living there. This is the house where I learned how to make Rosettes-now a Christmas tradition. This is the house where we had a dinosaur bone suspended from the ceiling (two cow femurs put end to end with a strip of leather covering the glued ends). This is the house with very attractive end tables (beer cases covered with cloth). This is the house with Boomer - a large-headed, lethargic, alcoholic St. Bernard who greeted all cars that drove into the yard. This is the house where we had a 18 month old neighbor boy whose first name was Harley and middle name was Davidson. This is the house where we had another neighbor nicknamed "Sinus Queen." Whatever problems we had, she had it worse. This is the house where we had to work on Thanksgiving and ate stewed tomatoes for our Thanksgiving meal. Good times. Good times.

Orthodox Visit

On Sunday I visited some college friends in St. Cloud. We decided to go to a Greek festival at an Orthodox church not far from campus. We listened to Greek music, watched Greek dancers, and ate Greek food such as Greek salad, Spinach and feta in phyllo dough, and five kinds of Greek desserts. We toured the Orthodox church and talked to a greeter. He explained that church goers stand during the service to show by their posture that they are attentive. He showed us around the church and pointed out the Orthodox icons. The street was blocked off and we sat at tables and ate our food and watched the people. Such diversity was definitely not a part of St. Cloud when we went to school there.

PS Egg update - one more today. That makes 3.

Getting Better With Age!

As I am getting older, I'm going to pot. My back aches, my fingers aren't as nimble. I'm getting wrinkles and my skin sags where it used to be firm. When I was young I could carry a 20 gallon keg of beer out of the trunk and down a flight of stairs. Now I ask for help with a 40 pound bag of water softener salt. I used to be a night owl. Now I feel like crying after 10 p.m. But I found out today that good things can come with age. My eyes have improved. I noticed in February that I could see more clearly without my glasses. A vision test today confirmed that my distance vision has improved. I still have a little astigmatism and need magnifying glasses for reading. My doctor says my eyes have relaxed a little bit making it easier for me to focus.

I Breathed The Air Of The Future or The Importance of Biodiversity

Tonight I went to a meeting of Master Naturalists. There weren't many people there and I think the stormy weather scared some people off or maybe they had storm damage to clean up. In any case, we changed our agenda and chose to tour the research at the Cedar Creek Center in East Bethel. The research here is done by the University of Minnesota. Each year they hire 50 interns to help study biodiversity. Anoka County was chosen as the site for this study because of all the counties in our state, we have the lowest hay yield per acre. Yeah! We're number 1! The Anoka County sand plain is the reason we have such poor soil. We have sand on top and sand below that and more sand even deeper. In this study, the top 6 inches of soil were removed years ago and over 300 small plots were marked off. Some plots have no plants. Some have one plant, some have 2 plants, some have 4 plants, etc. The most plants per plot is 32. Each plot is weeded to keep the required number of plants. Looking at the plots we noticed that the plots with one or two plants didn't look so good. There was more soil showing between the plants and the soil looked lighter in color. Plots with lots of biodiversity had no soil showing and darker soil with rotting plant material laying on top of the dirt. One of the plots was switch grass - a proposed biofuel. Switchgrass grown all by itself did not fare so well. Plots with more diversity thrive because the drought tolerant plants can cover the surface when the drought intolerant plants wither away leaving the soil more moist. Some plots had heaters over them that raised the soil temperature 1-2 degrees or 3-4 degrees. Someday our soil temperatures may increase that much. Those heated plots didn't do as well either. Some seeds died and some plants died. Prior to this study, people didn't think biodiversity in plants was an important concept in environmental studies. Now we know biodiversity is VERY important. In another section of Cedar Creek, they have the BIOCON project. This area was spooky looking reminding me of those tall metal fences on the TV show Lost. I didn't want to approach the area fearing I'd fall to the ground in agony. This circular areas represent the future. We know that the earth in changing in certain ways. We have more carbon dioxide, more nitrogen, and less biodiversity. When we plant acres and acres of corn, soybeans, Kentucky blue grass and wheat, we lessen the biodiversity. We do this to feed our burgeoning planet and to keep our yards as nice as our neighbors but we're changing the environment nonetheless. We know how many parts per million of carbon dioxide we have in the air now and can predict how many we'll have in the year 2050. These circular areas at Cedar Creek have carbon dioxide kept at the predicted 2050 levels. They also keep the nitrogen levels at the predicted 2050 levels. The nitrogen is easy - just spread fertilizer on the soil. Carbon dioxide is measured with sensors spread throughout the plot. A computer reads the carbon dioxide levels and sends extra carbon dioxide mixed with air to the area via these scary looking posts that blow air. There is a wind monitor in the plot so the computer reads the wind and sends the carbon dioxide mix only to the areas where the wind will spread it correctly. So when I forced myself to step inside that circle of pipes, I was breathing the same air that I will breathe when I'm 97, if I live that long. I was nervous inside that circle and a little light headed from anxiety. Since plants use carbon dioxide and nitrogen, one would expect plants will thrive in the 2050 year plots. Not necessarily true. All this was mind bending and fascinating information for me. What a great evening.

Eggcitement

Today I went out to let the chickens roam and refresh their water when
I spied two bluish objects in the coop. We've got eggs! Two of them! I'm so excited. I thought the eggs would start sometime in August. When I let the chickens out of the coop today they were more affectionate than usual. They were jockeying for position so they could rub against my legs like cats. They argued with each other about who could rub against me first. I finally had to say, "Get off me you weirdo's!" I said that before I saw the eggs. After I saw the eggs I spoke very nicely to the chickens and thanked them for their contribution to the family budget. I wonder who laid the eggs? Was it Angela? She's the biggest so she might be an early layer. Meredith? Phyllis? Kelly? Or Pamela? We know it wasn't Dwight.

Tracy Chapman Revisited

Last night we saw Tracy Chapman at the O'Shaunessey auditorium in St. Paul. She rocked the house and the house was full. She was a little late getting started. We had to wait a full 30 minutes after the warm-up performer. The audience forgave her once she came on stage. This humble, unassuming performer thrilled us with her well known "You Got a Fast Car" and "Revolution." She played some songs from her latest album like "I Did It All" and "Sing a Song For You." I sang along. Lets hope she didn't hear me sing off-key. We saw her perform a couple years ago and she gave us an excellent concert. This concert was different because she had more energy, more guitar riffs, and more confidence.

25 Blocks South

I work near this condom on a stick otherwise known as the Blaine water tower. On days I ride my motorcycle to work, I have many route choices. I don't feel comfortable on Highway 10 so I go east on either Bunker Lake Boulevard or Main Street. From there I travel 25 blocks south. My favorite choices for traveling south are Foley Boulevard or University Avenue. Foley Boulevard is my "Zen" choice because the speed limit is consistently 40 mph, the wide, smooth road curves and dips, and is banked on both sides with mature oaks, maples, and pine trees. Manicured lawns and well-kept houses live under the mature trees. University Avenue is my "Urban" choice. University has a few houses and mobile home parks but also has strip malls, chain stores, gas stations, florists, office buildings and churches. Trees are set back far from the road. The speed limit varies and the road has more traffic. University Avenue is straight as an arrow and as I travel south I get an excellent view of the downtown Minneapolis skyline. In the morning I decide, do I want my "Zen" road or my "Urban" road.

Patience - A Lack Of

Some days I've got it and some days I run short. Yesterday I ran short of patience for listening. My problem started in the morning. A coworker, who usually has nothing original to say, offered an insight that others had made before but forgotten. Someone (not me) said she made a good point. That was all the encouragement she needed to make that same point four times in succession, each worded in a slightly different way. Lordy, how she tries my patience. The amount of self control it took for me not to roll my eyes drained some of my patience. All the credit she got for remembering that insight were immediately spent when she repeated herself. My tolerance for listening varies day to day. I had a lot of meetings yesterday therefore I had to do a lot of listening so I think that schedule, combined with an unusually short amount of patience, is what created my problem. Do you, like me, sometimes wonder what makes people think we're interested in all their anecdotes? Who cares about the time you had your picture taken with Jay Leno, Tim Pawlenty, and Bozo the Clown? I mean seriously, Bozo the Clown? Do you not know Bozo isn't a real person? By the time 4 o'clock rolled around, I had to thoughtfully restrain myself from putting my hands over my ears and humming to myself. I was SO happy to put that helmet on my head and roll on home. Lucky for me,both offspring were gone when I got home. I had an hour of silence except for canary singing and chicken clucking. By the time they got home, I was ready to listen again; patience was restored.

Sinkiller Review

Not everybody in the book club liked "Sin Killer" as much as I did. In fact, less than half the readers gave it a good review. The people who did like this zany, brutal novel liked it a lot. Most people admit that Larry McMurtry writing has great character development. With just a few words he can portray a person including their motivation, their outlook, and their vulnerabilities.

Book Club Tonight

I'm leading the discussion. Wish me luck.

What Did I See Crawling Into My Garage?

I saw a cute blue spotted salamander crawling across the garage floor as fast as it's little legs could go. I think the woods were too wet for this little fella so he came into the garage to dry out. Blue spotted salamanders are the most common salamander in Minnesota. They typically live in the woods and procreate on vernal ponds - ponds that appear in the spring and disappear the rest of the year. One female blue spotted salamander can lay up to 500 eggs each year. How does she come up with 500 names for all her offspring? These salamanders eat spiders, earthworms, slugs and centipedes. When the salamander feels threatened it will play skunk - wag it's tail back and forth and produce a noxious secretion from the base of it's tail. If grabbed by the southern most end of a salamander going north, the salamander tail can detach and writhe which confuses the predator during the escape.

Garden Produce

Yesterday we harvested some produce from the garden. I canned 5 pints of pickled green beans. I have to wait until September to try them. If they're good, I'll blog the recipe. I also snuck some potatoes out of the hills. I boiled up a handful of tiny Yukon Gold potatoes. The skins were so tender I could rub the peel off with my finger under the faucet. I boiled them, added a dab of butter and some fresh parsley. Yum, good.

Laugh Camp

A group of us went out on the town last Friday. After dinner at Cossetta's on West Seventh, we headed to Camp Bar on Robert Street across from Pedro's Luggage. I walked into the bar, saw the artistic atmosphere, saw all the handsome men (and only men) seated at the bar, and knew this was a gay bar. Usually I am the one lacking gadar but this time I had to convince my friends that it was no coincidence that the waiters all looked like Abercrombie ads. Camp Bar is actually a very nice bar and they serve drinks at reasonable prices. We had an hour to kill before our show started. We saw "Laugh Camp." This comedy show advertised 1000 jokes in 100 minutes for $10. What a deal, right? Six performers took turns telling jokes. When you see a guy on stage with microphone in hand, you want to laugh just to make him feel better. I heard some funny ones and some not so funny ones. When Stevie Wonder breaks up with a girl does he say he can't see her anymore? Some were funny because they hit close to home. Example? One guy was talking about St. Cloud State. He compares it to a technical school. He says St. Cloud State is a University like Neverland is a ranch. Ouch says the alumni. We could have stayed for the encore. For only $5, we could hear 15 minutes of the filthiest jokes; not filthy, not filthier, but the filthiest. We passed on that. I could handle filthy but not filthiest.

Weird Things Come in Two's

I saw a weird thing today. I met two people this morning who had similar tattoos on the tops of their feet. Both women had inky images of their children's baby foot prints permanently engraved on their skin. Feet on feet tattoos. One of the ladies just had her third child so I don't know what she's gonna do.

The other weird thing is that I witnessed the middle finger salute (the bird, the freeway salute, flipping the bird, digitus-infamous, flick off, showing the penguin, the Jersey wave, the Eminem salute, the one-fingered peace sign or the finger) three times in one week. That is unusual for me. I don't see that kind of gesture very often. Every time it was hysterically funny because the salute was unexpected and totally out of character because the giver of the finger was someone I associate with professional demeanor. The last time I saw it was the funniest. I was on the phone in my office and a supervisor came to my window and gave me the bird. What was she thinking? My eyes widened and my mouth opened in shock. She was thinking about an earlier incident and so was I while still trying to maintain my composure and interact with the elderly, straight laced woman on the phone with me.

Another Summer Ritual Accomplished

The curl is the best part.

Superman Goes To The Men's Room

St. Croix River

Today was our 14th annual canoe trip down the St. Croix River. We leave from Taylors Falls and paddle to either Osceola or William O'Brien State Park. Today we stopped in Osceola. The river level was low and we had a couple first time canoers along so we got out early. We saw lots of turkey vultures soaring but no bald eagles nor herons nor egrets. We counted at least 10 turtles sunning themselves on branches just above the water line. We have developed some traditions. Bugles are one tradition. Every year I eat a bugle and remember just how terrible they taste. Where to eat lunch is another tradition. Recalling the year someone locked her keys in her car is another. Today was perfect weather for our trip because it was hot, sunny, and only a slight breeze. The water was warm enough to swim. I couldn't have asked for a nicer day. I didn't get sun burned and I didn't get blisters and I don't have sore arms so all is well. Two more children were introduced to the pleasures of canoeing down the St. Croix.

Puppet Show

When I was a kid we went to puppet shows in the summer. The city we lived in had a puppet trailer. If I remember right, the puppet trailer had curved sides and resembled a gypsy wagon. It was brightly colored and it had a large window that propped outward. We kids sat in the grass in someone's lawn and waited for the show to arrive. The puppet show times and locations were published in the paper. My sisters and I arrived early for a good seat. The puppet wagon would roll up and park. I can't recall any of the shows we saw but I imagine we saw fairy tales most of the time. I remember once the city princess came along. She was wearing a real crown and a real silk sash. I was so awed; so impressed. I noticed she had a red blotch on her calf and I thought to myself, "I didn't know princesses got mosquito bites just like us regular people." Puppet shows are a fond memory for me. Today I saw a puppet show again. This time was special because one of my nephews was in the show. He played the cat owner, the ogre, and the King's assistant in the story, "Puss In Boots." He did a great job. I saw at least 50 kids sitting in the grass waiting for the show to start. I'll bet there were another 20 people watching above the age of 20. The city of Roseville has had the puppet show tradition for probably 50 years now. I was lucky to grow up in a town that offered so much to the children.

Snippets of Conversations

Above is a photo of a water crystal that has been bottled and labeled "Thank You." Professor Emoto has photographed water crystals from clean water, polluted water, water that has been blessed by Buddhist monks, water exposed to Bach, water exposed to punk rock, bottled water with the label of "Hitler", and other kinds of water. Professor Emoto's work was one of many conversations I had at the family reunion on Sunday. Here are some others: Uncle Joe as a serviceman serving at Arlington cemetery serving as a guard at the tomb of the unknown soldier and how handsome he must have looked with his shockingly red hair, best places to put in and take out a canoe when traveling the Mississippi through downtown Minneapolis, fishing, calling ducks and geese during hunting season, Roseville puppet shows, new apartments, the danger of nuclear missiles from North Korea, cabins on the lake, job interviews in Seattle, volunteering for a local fire department, texting on cell phones, truck and tractor pulls, 4th of July parties at Block lake that now include a DJ and dancing, traffic tickets, people who litter the highways, aches and pains, bars that taste like Butterfinger candy, taking machines apart, gardening, getting old, viewing the Sandhill cranes at the Rowe Nature Center on the Platte river in Nebraska, whether sandhill cranes sound like the flying monkeys on the Wizard of Oz, deciding where a bone came from (dinosaur, a cow, or a pot roast), tree frogs, cooking brats in the BWCA, boy scout camp, strep throat, buckthorn berries, Boeng aerospace and defense contractor, traveling in the Cascade Mountain Range, ALL the lyrics to Alice’s restaurant, prairie chicken mating dances, assisted living facilities, ATV’s, pickled green beans, the connection between the low crime rate in Japan and the high percentage of atheists, Che Guevara, brats with pineapple inside, and goat agility tests. The strangest thing was the lyrics to Alice's restaurant. This is a 20 minute song and it was not one but two family members reciting the words.

Lock and Dam #1

Today I spent the day on the Mississippi river. We parked at Hidden Falls city park. I had never come across this beauty of a park before. I will be sure to go there again. Hidden Falls is just south of Ford Parkway off of Mississippi Blvd. We were taken in a van to the University of Minnesota campus just below the U of M hospital. We were a group of about 24 and we split into 3 large voyager canoes. I was in the lead canoe. We canoed the gorge. We were told that downtown Minneapolis has the only gorge on the Mississippi. I would have thought the bluff area in southeastern Minnesota and along Iowa would have a gorge but the bluffs are on one side and the other side usually has a flood plain, making this the only gorge. I thought it was a gorgeous gorge. We saw about a dozen great blue herons, a great white egret, 4 turkey vultures, one bald eagle, 10 cormorants, 3 mallards, a killdeer, a bunch of crows, a female cardinal, bank swallows, tree swallows, cliff swallows, and a kingfisher. I was most excited to see the kingfisher because it's been on my list of birds I haven't seen yet. We saw sugar maples, silver maples (that show their whitish back sides), hackberry, catalpa trees, sumac, cottonwoods and elms. We stopped for lunch on some sand flats. These sand flats were created by dredging the river so the barges could get through. They were covered with spotted knapweed - an invasive species that thrives on disturbed soil. Some of the naturalists pulled a few up by the roots and felt better. There was surprisingly little traffic on the river. We saw 4 other boats. The Mississippi downtown is nothing like the St. Croix River. The St. Croix is crowded with boat traffic on a sunny Saturday. Before we knew it we had gone under the Lake Street bridge, a railroad bridge, and the Ford Parkway bridge. We were at lock and dam #1. Golly, I was excited. Since we were in the lead canoe we got to pull the rope signalling we wanted to go through. We were told we had to wait 10-15 minutes for the lock to fill. To hold our canoe in position, I put my finger in a hole in the cement so we wouldn't rub against the wall and wouldn't get too far away from the wall. A sign said LASF 6 miles with an arrow pointing left and Lock & Dam #2 36 miles with an arrow pointing right. We thought the LASF meant lock at St. Anthony Falls. LASF is the first lock and dam on the river. Funny it isn't called #1. Lock & Dam #2 is at Hastings. Eventually we got the green light and could proceed. We allowed a speedboat to go in first so we wouldn't have to deal with it's wake. When we got into position, a man above threw a coil of thick rope to us. The guy in front of me got to hold the rope and allow it to pass through his hands as we were lowered anywhere between 35 and 39 feet. He had a lot of rope at his feet. The huge doors shut behind us and down we went. I could see the speedboat ahead of us go down and couple feet and then I felt our canoe go down a couple feet. In the photo you can see the white concrete at the top of the wall. That is where we started from. As the water receded little critters including shrimp could be seen clinging to the algae slime. The time went fast but I suppose we were in there about 15 minutes. Finally a bell rang and the doors were opened. We left our watery concrete room and headed down and across to Hidden Falls park. I want to canoe through town again. The best part of the trip was being with people who enjoy nature.