Project Feederwatch Update

Black capped chickadee - 4, White breasted nuthatch - 2, Cardinals - 3 (the males were fighting), downy woodpecker - 2, red bellied woodpecker - 1 (photo), pileated woodpecker - 1, blue jay - 1, crow - 1, cedar waxwing - 3. My heated water dish is attracting the cardinals and blue jays and the red bellied woodpecker.

By the way, a pesky gray squirrel was eating suet again today. This time he changed tactics and went to the white oak to the east of the deck instead of the basswood tree. He circled the trunk and sat on the lowest branch and looked right at me. I squirted him in the forehead with my trusty water gun. Oh, so satisfying!

How To Talk Like a Minnesotan

A last minute opportunity came up for me to see "How To Talk Like a Minnesotan" with a friend at the Plymouth Playhouse Theater. My options were to stay home and complete the FAFSA (a financial form for parents of college students that is harder than completing income taxes) or go to the show. I went to the show where they poked fun at how we speak here. Things like "Could have been worse," or "Can't complain," or "Not half bad," are all what they called "negative positives." The jokes are not half bad but the music was really good. All the performers are great singers. We had a fun afternoon. Could have been worse.

Shadow Tag

I just finished the latest book by Louise Erdrich. This one is called "Shadow Tag." The story is about a marriage set here in Minneapolis. The husband is an artist. He paints pictures of his wife. Many of his paintings demean her. The wife is a student who puts off finishing her doctorate to raise the children. The artist and his first born son are geniuses. The husband is, like other geniuses, crazy. The relationship is abusive to the wife, the husband, and the children. She tries to leave but he won't let her. When tensions rise in the house, the author writes about the behavior of the two dogs in the family. Dogs know. Dogs can read people and comprehend danger better than some humans. The wife gaslights the husband. Do you know gaslighting? Gaslighting is when a person tries to drive another person crazy by denying reality. I think the term comes from an old movie where someone tries to drive another person crazy by changing the lighting in a room and pretending it didn't happen. The wife in this story gaslights her husband by keeping two diaries. She knows he reads her hidden diary so she writes things in there to upset him while she keeps her real diary in a safety deposit box at a bank. At one point in the story the wife is talking with her eldest son's teacher at a school conference. The teacher tells her he saw the bruise on her son's forehead. He knows the father hurt the son because the son told him so. The teacher tells the wife that she HAS to protect the son from his father. The teacher doesn't want to hurt the son by telling the authorities so it is up to the wife to make sure he is safe. The task is impossible. The wife asks the teacher if he will testify in her behalf at a custody trial. The teacher said he would but that would mean he would get himself in trouble for not reporting child abuse so he won't. As incredible as this sounds, it's totally believable for me. I can see a teacher doing that - not all teachers, just some. This is one messed up marriage. Erdrich writes a different story from all the other ones I've read from her. This one is so much sadder and more poetic. I know she was once married to the author Michael Dorris. I hope this story isn't based on her own experiences in marriage because I would not wish this marriage on anyone. I liked the book though.

Owl Hoot

Last night a sibling and I went to the 11th Annual Owl Hoot at St. John's Arboretum in Collegeville, MN. I learned about the dozen owl species in our state and what they all sound like. I'm pretty sure that owl that sounded like former govenor, Jesse Ventura, was a barred owl. We learned where to find owls. Our teacher was young, enthusiastic, and a very good naturalist. When the lecture was over, we walked into the woods. The teacher had an owl call. It looked exactly like the duck calls my father had. I thought it sounded just like a duck call too the first time I heard it. A group of 15 of us are out in the woods on campus at 8:15 p.m. We can see fairly well because the moon is bright. It's cold but not terrible. We stand in silence. Every time we shift our feet the snow squeaks. She's calling for barred owls although great greys inhabit the woods too. If she calls for a great gray, the barred owls will be silent because they fear the great grays. If she calls for barred owl, the great greys might answer because they don't fear the barred owl. The barred owl sounds like "No soup for you. No soup for you all." The naturalist called on her owl call. We hear nothing. She told us to watch because sometimes an owl will fly nearby when they hear the call instead of answering. We watch and listen. Nothing happens. She calls once every few minutes. Nothing. I decide that even if we see and hear nothing, I am enjoying being outside in the dark with 15 other people interested in owls. She calls again. A barred owl not very far away answers her call. A couple seconds pass by and another barred owl, off in the distance, answers that call. Our faces show our excitement because we don't want to make any noise. The naturalist calls again. This time both barred owls start making "monkey sounds." They start saying, "Oooh Ooooh Ooooh, Aw Aw Aw Aw!" This is so exciting! The naturalist lets anyone volunteer to use their own voice to call to the owls. Only the two children in the group have the courage to try it. But the owls are silent now and we trudge back to our cars. The naturalist tells us that she has done this walk for seven years and this is the first time owls have answered during the walk. I am thinking about buying a barred owl call. I have barred owls in my neighborhood. I think it would be awesome to talk to them in barred owl language.

Something I Have Wondered About Since My First Year of College

During my first year as a student at the University of Minnesota, I would hear Carly Simon sing on the radio all the time. Her lyrics went, "You're so vain; you probably think this song is about you." I liked the song but those lines drove me a little crazy. If she's writing a song about him, obviously the lyrics ARE about him and not because he is vain. I just couldn't understand it. Today I read an article that explains it all. The song was written in part about her record producer who spent more time promoting a rival singer instead of Carly. In that case, the song is brilliant. She made a lot of money off that song while passively poking at him. What could he do? If he brought it up, he'd have to admit his vanity. The funny thing is, another man in her life (Warren Beatty) thought the song was about him. He's so vain and the song wasn't about him. That Carly - a beautiful and brilliant woman with long legs and strong teeth. I am glad the mystery is solved.

Valentine's Day - Movie Review

I went to see the movie Valentine's Day this afternoon. I saw the previews. Sometimes the previews show all the best parts of a film and you walk away disappointed. Not this movie. I walked away impressed because it was a better film than the preview suggested. Valentine's Day has many famous actors and actresses and quite a few story lines. Surprisingly, it's not confusing. Not all stories end up happy. Not all the stories are about young lovers. I would have to say this movie is worth seeing in the theater; its better than a "rentable."

I Am The Lucky One

I got a bouquet of tulips on Saturday. There are at least 4 dozen tulips in the bunch; some purple, orange, yellow, and pink with white tips. They sat here pretty all day alone on Monday so today I brought a dozen to work so I could look at them during the day. These tulips brightened the day for many of my coworkers. They're so gorgeous!

Armed and Dangerous

The target? Squirrels eating suet on the deck. The ammunition? Ready. Shots on target? I dampened seven squirrels on Saturday; not seven individual squirrels, some got dampened twice. At least that many got away dry. I'll get better with more practice.

I blasted them with my Water Warrior Steady Stream. It creates a continuous stream that blasts up to 38 feet and holds up to 37 ounces of water. My water warrior has pump power action. The trick is to keep the water warrior in a bucket by the back door. When a target is on the deck, quietly unlock the door, pull the pump handle forward to load the water, open the door and pump fast to shoot a steady continuous stream all the way to the basswood tree because that is where the squirrels always go for cover. Sometimes the wily squirrel will hide below the deck floor. When that happens, wait with the water warrior ready and BLAST THEM IN THE NOGGIN when their little face peeks above the deck floor. So far we've had only one mishap. One offspring shot the kitchen floor instead of the squirrel. All damage was mopped up. My water warrior has totally changed the dynamic in the house. Hearing the words, "Squirrel on the deck!" used to make my blood boil Now I look forward to it. I smile and move as stealthily as Elmer Fudd to my water warrior storage bucket. I, the Water Warrior, dominate the suet holder on the deck.

Project Feederwatch

We had a crazy number of birds and species on Saturday. A robin stood guard over the crabapple trees and chased all the cedar waxwings away. He chased them away from the apple trees and away from the entire yard. He was a bossy robin. Here are the totals: Red bellied woodpecker - 1, downy woodpecker - 2, cardinal - 2, robin - 1 (bossy), white breasted nuthatch - 2, black capped chickadee - 3, crow - 1, golfinch - 2, blue jay - 1, junco - 2, cedar waxwing - 12, house finch (see photo - new species to us) - 2.

Temple Grandin - HBO Special

I borrowed a copy of this television special about Temple Grandin from work. Wow, it was good. Temple Grandin, a world famous designer of the cattle chutes used by more than half of the cattle in our country, also had autism. She is a modern day hero. The movie depicts her life and the struggle of her mother to help her live a fully-realized life. Temple's Mom is a hero too. Temple is portrayed by Clare Danes who does an excellent job. Life is hard for a college graduate woman with autism in the 1970's, especially one who wants to specialize in animal husbandry. I forget how tough it was for us women in the 1970's. The sexism she encounters is at once familiar and shocking to me. The comments, the attitude, the snickering, the disdain - it's all foreign to me now. Things have changed for the better for women thanks in part to people like Temple. I think she's right when she says people aren't animals and cattle slaughter doesn't have to be like a lion eating it's kill. We raise cattle for our food and they deserve respectful treatment until the end of their life.

Change of Heart

OK, after this book, I can admit it. I am a huge Jodi Picoult fan. Now I'm scouring her list of books to see if there are any I have missed. "Change of Heart" is a great story that explores and opens up the topics of medical donations, capital punishment, organized religion, forgiveness and survival. Jodi is just telling a story but she's also doing our society a public service by exploring some very tough topics. I had just finished her other book, "Finding Faith" recently. In that book a man called Ian Fletcher is an atheist on television. Strangely, he shows up again in this book to testify in a court trial where a convicted death-row prisoner asks to be hanged instead of receiving lethal injection The prisoner wants this so he can donate his heart to the daughter of a woman who's husband and child he was convicted of killing. This was a very good book. I highly recommend it.

Wicked

"Wicked" was written by Gregory MacGuire. I was told he wrote the story as a writing class assignment to expand a fairy tale. Wow, this guy made a lot of money for a class assignment. I took about 8 months to read the story. I've had the book at my disposal for 4 years. I didn't read it quickly but I did read every word. I'm not a big fan of science fiction but I wanted to read this story partly because it developed from a writing assignment and in part because I am a fan of the story. The very first time I went to the library and got my pink card with a metal plate on it, I took out two books; "Heidi" and "The Wizard of Oz." The wicked witch of the west, the main character in this story, is named "Elphalba." The author got that name from the author of "The Wizard of Oz," L. Frank Baum. L. Frank Baum, L - F - B, Elphalba. This was a good book but definitely not designed for children like the first story. Elphalba is a thoughtful, troubled green woman with a philosophical/activist bent and a troubling skin reaction to water.

Birds In Flight

Last night I went to a meeting of my master naturalist group at Carlos Avery. All the way there I worried about that poor she-wolf of Mexican descent that was released by some person crazy enough to open the gate with a wolf right there. I did not want to be the one to strike and kill an endangered wolf with my car on my way to a master naturalist meeting. I knew it had been seen on Coon Lake and I had to go around that lake to get to the meeting. I am glad to hear the wolf was cornered in New Brighton and is now home where she belongs. Our speaker was Carroll Henderson, author of "Birds in Flight." I brought a copy of his book and he was very kind in signing it for me. He described the physics of flight. We learned about things like thrust and drag and gravity and lift. The way Henderson described it made sense to me although I can't explain it all now. He compared bird anatomy to airplanes. He talked about the albatross and how their long wings allow them to fly for a month at a time just by riding the air currents. He showed how some bird wings are for distance, like an albatross, others for speed (kestrel), others for quick lifts (pheasant), and others for acrobatics (tern). He was a fascinating speaker. He takes all his own photographs. The time just sped by. He's full of fun facts. Hummingbirds eat sugar - the human equivalent of how much sugar they eat in a day is 350,000 pancakes. I'm glad I have the book so I can review the material we had last night.

This Eagle Has Confidence!

Check out this entry on an Illinois bird list serve - it details the attack on a full size white tail deer by a golden eagle. http://ilbirds.com/index.php?topic=32809.0 The birder did an awesome job detailing this amazing observation. The intent look in the eagle eyes and the "What the hell?" look in the deer eyes shows up in the other photos. On a much less dramatic note, my project feeder watch update included 4 black capped chickadees, one goldfinch, 2 junco, 2 white breasted nuthatch, 1 downy woodpecker, and one proud robin who sat proudly on the basswood branch closest to the window for me to admire for a long time.

Kiddy Pioneers of the Lake - Epilogue

The morning after we finished the historic hike around the lake, Danny, Donny and I went back to the dam. We were armed with a large landing net, a metal stringer, and a large pail. We were going fishing but without poles. The day was going to be hot and the heat beetles were already buzzing in the trees. We stood on top of the dam and looked down. The large northern pike were still there. We could see at least three big ones. The water was so low in the slough that their backs were practically out of the water. We climbed down the side of the dam and walked into the slough. The open water was near the bottom of the dam wall so that is where we went to get the fish. This was easier than shooting fish in a barrel. The poor pike had no place to escape us. We scooped one large northern and put it in the bucket. The fish was so large that if we had put it on the stringer, it’s tail would have dragged on the ground. People were going to be so impressed with us when we got back with this awesome load of fish! We were just scooping up the second fish when we heard a voice behind us. Uncle Leo said, “What you are doing here is against the law, it’s poaching.” We froze. How did he sneak up on us like this? Maybe if we didn’t move this wasn’t happening. Uncle Leo was a little scary. He wasn’t a kindly sort of uncle that kids our age could talk to. Uncle Leo was the kind of uncle who, when you were watching him milk the cows, would send you up to the farm house to ask his wife for a “tit wrench.” We naïve children would do what he asked, causing Aunt Helen to start sputtering in German. We didn’t understand what she was saying but we understood she wasn’t too happy with him. He thought that was hilarious. Uncle Leo was also the kind of uncle who would offer your two-year-old little sister a piece of plug tobacco and ask her, “Do you want some chocolate?” That forced you to protect her by leading her away by the hand and doing that didn’t earn you any popularity points with the little tyke. So when Uncle Leo said we were breaking the law, we knew we were in trouble. What happened next? Did we put the northerns back in the slough? Did we dump them into the lake? I would like to think we put them back in the lake but I honestly don’t remember. I only know we didn’t carry any fish when we walked back to the cabins from the dam. We learned a lesson that day.

Kiddy Pioneers of the Lake - Part Three

We finished our lunch and got on our feet. Hiking the south shore of Block Lake is difficult. The glacial moraine that forms the lake border is very steep. The mature basswood trees that grow on the hill have been sentinels since before Minnesota was a state. This land has never been harvested of wood nor farmed. Once in a while we would be lucky to find a deer trail that made walking slightly easier. Even the deer didn’t have what it took to walk close to the shore because their trails all angled uphill. Danny, Donny and I tromped along in silence. Eventually we came to the sand bar. The sand bar was a local hangout. High school aged farm kids would carpool to the resort and take a white rowboat with turquoise trim to the sandbar. With two sets of oars propelling a 14-foot wooden boat full of kids, they crossed the lake in no time. Oh, they looked like they were having fun. I longed to be part of a group like that when I got older. We always wondered what drew them to this spot. What did they do over here? Usually they stayed at the sand bar for an hour or two before rowing back. We couldn't see them from our cabins because they were so far away. The fact they could not be seen was probably the entire point of their journey. The sand bar made a nice swimming beach. We looked around but could not find any sign of teens being here – no trash, no bottles, no cigarette butts, no chairs, no campfire remains. Were these farm kids the creators of the “Leave No Trace” camping ethic? We didn’t linger very long at the sand bar. We wanted to dispel the lonely feelings we got from looking at our resort. The three lake pioneers resumed the march. Fern frond and basswood branches got in our way. We didn’t hold the branches for the person behind us. We just walked far enough apart that branches wouldn’t hit us. Danny was still a little grumpy about the short cut we didn’t take at Petey’s Bay. The old forest basswoods grew on such a steep slope that the trunks came out at all different angles. Granite boulders made walking so difficult we thought about walking in the lake instead. Out past the giant boulders in the lake we could see rocks under a couple feet of clear water. We had heard this side of the lake had drop-offs. Drop offs scared us. We listened to adults talk about drop offs and describe them as huge dangers. The three of us could swim but it never occurred to me that our swimming ability would lessen the danger of a drop off. The sharp slope of the hill continued the descent under the surface of the lake. Some of the rocks were as large as softballs. We’d have to take our shoes off to walk in the lake. Once in a while we’d have to swim around or climb over a tree trunk. Bass were probably hiding under those trees. We decided to stick to the land. My gait was off. My right foot was always higher than my left foot because of the slope. Sometimes my right foot was a little higher and other times it was 12 inches higher than my left. My ankles were tired of stabilizing my body weight at an angle. I was itchy and sweaty and tired of walking. We were getting a little bit grouchy so it was best we walked in silence. We weren’t quite sure but we thought it might be getting dark soon. We had been at this so long. The landscape changed. The hill went around a corner to the north and we were faced with a very wet trail. Ahead of us the tree trunks were submerged in water about a foot deep. We didn’t want to walk through this. We followed the dry land away from the shoreline for 50 feet. The situation was not any better. Everything around here was wet and each step we took away from the lake only added to our journey. We made the decision to walk through this submerged area with our socks and tennis shoes on. The water seemed a little bit stagnant. Black lake beetles scattered in circular patterns in front of us on top of the water. Under the water we could see schools of baby bullheads darting away. This part of the journey was hard even for us lake pioneers. We knew the other cabins couldn’t be too far away. The resort on the north side of the lake was always referred to as the other cabins. Once we got to that resort we would be back on gravel road again. Walking on the gravel road would be a picnic compared to this. This watery place had to be loaded with leeches. We slogged along walking between the dying basswood trees, unable to see through the forest. Now we were at a point where we couldn’t see the lake either. We heard red-winged blackbirds calling. Gradually the water got shallower. The trees grew farther apart. Clumps of cattails were visible. We could hear voices! We exchanged smiles because we knew we were near the other resort. We were going to make it out alive! We pushed our way through the bulrushes, separating them with our arms before stepping ahead. Finally we reached a lawn. We lay down on the mown grass and spread our limbs in the sun. It felt so good to rest. We were at the other resort. We had heard about this place but never been here before. Adults told us it wasn’t as nice as our resort. This resort had a dreaded drop-off. Kids could die at this resort by walking into the drop off. At our resort we had a sandy or muddy, gradual slope. The worst that could happen was leeches attaching to the thin skin between our toes. Getting tiny brown leeches between the toes was not unusual for me. I liked to swim under the dock where the leeches hung out. I’d pull at the leeches between my toes and the leech body would stretch and snap back out of my fingers. Sometimes I couldn’t get them off without sprinkling salt on them. Once the leeches were off, the bleeding continued for quite some time. Now that we were here at the other resort, it didn’t seem so bad. Kids were playing and they looked to be having a better time than we were. Some kids were swimming. The swimmers seemed to be having a good time despite the drop off. People were fishing off the dock. Boats were heading out for fishing. We knew we didn’t belong there so we walked quickly between the cabins to the driveway and back to the lake road and walked north. Our wet socks and the sand in our shoes irritated our feet. We were almost home. We could see our cabins get closer with every step. The walking was so easy. The lake road was low to the water at the beginning and we threw rocks into the lake as we walked. We saw some boats out fishing. Two boats were anchored near the island. The island hadn’t been visible for many years because the lake level rose and covered it. But we knew the invisible island was two thirds of the way across the lake closer to the other resort. Depth finders were not available yet so we used black heavy weights with a clamp on the top pinched on the end of our line. If our weight hit bottom at 4 or 5 feet, we knew we were above the island. Walleyes hung out there. Another boat was off the point. One was trolling in Petey’s Bay. We could see a boat way across the lake over by the dam. The closest boat was just off shore from us. Uncle Joe was trolling for walleyes. We waved at him as we walked along. We walked along as the road rose up 20 feet from the level of the lake. The hill on our right got steeper too and continued downhill under the water. This end of the lake held the deepest water. We passed a road sign that indicated a curve ahead. The sign showed evidence of target practice. Shots on target created shallow dents all over the sign. Now scrubby trees grew on the bank between the lake and us. Wild roses, sumac and raspberry canes held the soil to the slope. We wondered what time it was. We knew it had to be past suppertime but before bedtime. We quickly made it to the stop sign. On this northeast corner of the lake the water was very shallow. The water was no more than five feet deep for a long way out and full of lily pads. Some birches lined the rocky shore. We could have walked along the shore but didn’t. We preferred the gravel road. As we turned left, our Uncle Leo’s dairy farm was on the right. The field between the road and his house was planted in long, straight rows of corn this year. A few leopard frogs crossed the road as we walked along. Normally we would catch them. Uncle Joe would give us a dollar for a dozen leopard frogs. But lake pioneers don’t have the time or the energy for such enterprise. Our wet socks were rubbing sores on our feet and we were tired. We could hear the water tricking into the lake from the creek. We happily turned into the public access so we could take the side road that led to our resort. We made it. We completed our journey around the lake. To our dismay, the other kids including our siblings were not that excited to see us return. They were busy playing. They hardly looked up at us. We expected more acclaim. Donny and Danny returned to their cabin where Aunt Evelyn stood waiting. “Are you guys back? Did you have a nice walk?” Walk? Walk! We didn’t go for a walk! We hiked around the entire lake. We went on an adventure journey! We were lake pioneers! Donny asked if he could have supper. The three lake pioneers were shocked to hear that supper wasn’t for five hours yet, she had just finished the lunch dishes. The time was 12:30. Despite the early return and the frustration of taking the long way at Petey’s Bay, it was still an adventure; we were lake pioneers. Tomorrow - the epilogue

Kiddy Pioneers of the Lake - Part Two

Once we got past the dam, we had no roads to follow. Our plan was to keep the lake on our left. On our right was a thick, mosquito-infected, virgin basswood forest on a very steep hill. Large granite boulders dotted the shoreline. Some of these boulders were as large as cars. I was the oldest so I took the lead. We found sticks in the forest to use as hiking canes. We started off. Branches slapped our faces and raspberry canes scratched our legs. For safety, we had to keep our eyes down for every step. Some fallen trees were easy to step over. Some trees had not fallen all the way to the ground so we could crawl under their trunks. Other trees had to be crawled over or walked around. The hill on our right got so steep there was no way to ascend it. Sometimes it was a little easier to walk three or four feet away from the shoreline, but not here. We disturbed a great blue heron and it flapped away in silence. Even though I was hot I wished I had worn long pants instead of the shorts I had on. My cousins wore their typical "Leave It To Beaver" clothes - cut off jeans with short-sleeved t-shirts with wide, colorful horizontal stripes. We hoped there wasn't poison ivy on this side of the lake. After an hour or so of hiking through the forest, we stopped having fun. We stopped to rest and reconsider. Were we halfway done yet? Would it be closer to go back the way we came or to proceed? We looked out at the lake while slapping the mosquitoes landing on our arms and the ants on our legs. Three painted turtles were sunning themselves on a tree trunk. One by one, the turtles plopped into the water and swam away. We thought we would be able to see our cabins by now. Although we could see the point and the northeast corner of the lake, the cabins were not in view. We got up and kept going. Being a lake pioneer was hard work. Although we did not know it at the time, we had come to the spit of land that marked the beginning of Petey's Bay. Eventually we could see our cabins; four little white houses in a row with turquoise trim. One larger white cabin sat on a hill above the fish cleaning hut. East of the cabins but before the public access sat a turquoise trailer home. Stoney Point resort looked attractive from over here; safe and comfortable. The sight of it inspired us to keep going so we could be back there. We walked another half hour before stopping to finish our lunch. Danny had to go to the bathroom. For privacy he hiked uphill. The hill was shorter here and he went over the crest. He came back as mad as a hornet. "Right there!" he shouted at us pointing up the hill, "We were right there an hour ago!" Donny and I went up and looked. Sure enough, here was a spot we remembered sitting at a very long time ago and it was just a few feet away. How could that be? Walking the perimeter of the lake on the spit of land that formed Petey's Bay was the long way. We could have saved a lot of time, mosquito bites, and steps if we had known to just hike over this little hill. Such is the life of a lake pioneer. If we had walked around the lake before we would have known that. To be continued.

Kiddy Pioneers of the Lake - Part One

Every year my family would rent a cabin at my uncle's resort in northwestern Minnesota. Stoney Point resort had five cabins, one large swimming dock, a fish-cleaning house, and an assortment of wooden boats. Block Lake wasn't very large (about 260 acres) and not very deep (23 feet at most) but it was our lake. The cabins were on the north side of the lake. I can't remember if we had our vacation in July or August but I do know we went the same week every year. Other vacationers took the same week and we could expect to see them. My Uncle Joe, his wife Evelyn and their five boys would be there too. One summer, when I was about ten years old, my cousins Danny and Donny and I decided to walk all the way around the lake. To us this seemed very momentous. We had never walked around the lake before. We had walked to the dam and back. We had walked to the other cabins and back. But we had never hiked the whole lake. We had never heard of anyone doing that before. We weren't sure if we could finish the hike in one day or if we'd have to spend a night in the woods before we got home. This was new territory for us. We were going to be pioneers of the lake. We told our parents about our plan because we needed supplies and permission. I packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a bag with an apple. Aunt Evelyn packed what I thought was a nicer bag of supplies with Fritos corn chips, sandwiches, Hostess cupcakes and Freezies. Freezies are intensely flavored juices packed in a plastic tube and frozen. I think of Evelyn every time I see a Freezie because she was still offering and I was still accepting them 30 years later. I carried the bag and we started our trek, unsure of what day we would return. We planned to go counter clockwise on the lake so the hard part would be over with first. The second half of our journey would be on gravel road. We left the cabins and walked down the driveway to the gravel county road. Turning left we walked for a couple blocks passing corn fields and sheep pastures belonging to our Uncle Leo, owner of the resort. We took another left on the road to the dam. This dam road wasn't really a road; more of a dirt path for tires with grass growing in the middle. The sun was shining and the walking was easy so far. Dragonflies and grasshoppers clung to the grasses at our sides. Swallows swooped in the skies above us. We reached the dam on the east end of the lake. The lake level was low at this time of the year and no water flowed over the dam. The cement dam had a three foot iron gate on top. We stood on the concrete and held onto the iron gate as we side-stepped across. Cattails crowded this end of the lake and we couldn't see above them. In the slough on the other side of the dam we could see several northern pike swimming. Our eyes widened to see such big northerns. One of them looked to be at least a four pounder. The fish had probably been carried over the dam in the spring and couldn't get back into the lake. We agreed it would be a shame to let it go to waste. We decided to come back and get it another day. Although it was probably only 8 o'clock, we thought we would eat some of our lunch now. That way we wouldn't have to carry it and we would need our strength. The easy walking was over. (to be continued)

'Tis The Season

Lorna Landvik wrote this book in an epistolary, ephistleatory, in a letter writing fashion. E-mails and letters make up the story. Most of the correspondence is between a broken heiress(much like Paris Hilton) named Caroline, her former nanny-Astrid, her former foster father/cattle rancher - Cyril, and a cynical paparazzi writer called The Buzz. The books starts out with Caroline writing an apology letter that is SO NOT an apology that I had to laugh out loud. She starts out with "Dear Everyone I Have Supposedly Ever Hurt." Caroline is a pistol even as she softens, sobers, grows up, heals, and becomes a much nicer person. The story ends around Christmas but you don't have to wait until Christmas to read it. This book can be finished in one pleasant, snowy afternoon.

Lovely Bones

I read the book, "The Lovely Bones" by Alice Sebold. This week I got to see Peter Jackson's portrayal of the same story in a movie. I was most interested in seeing how he pictured the afterlife. Susie, the girl in the story who has lovely bones, is killed. She hangs around instead of heading toward heaven. She watches her killer. She watches her father, mother, brother and sister. She is not in heaven and she is not in hell. What do you call the afterlife between heaven and hell? Purgatory? Peter Jackson's version is more clearly defined than the book and it is much like I pictured. Susie is in a space that has patches of heaven interspersed with patches of her old life and patches of dreams and patches of nightmares. Peter Jackson does a lot of close-ups in the movie. He focuses on fingers so close you can see the lines that make up their fingerprints. He did a great job recreating the 1970's - cars, clothes, hair styles, bell-bottom pants, furniture, and music. Fascinating movie, if you read the book you gotta see it. If you haven't read the book, it's worth seeing too.

On A Roll

I've been on a roll at work lately. We have a positive comments bulletin board. My name was on that board. The comment was something like "Sue is always so positive - but don't ask her about water bottles." Of course, people reading that, asked me about water bottles. Three out of four people who asked me about water bottles were holding water bottles when they asked me. AWKWARD! I have nothing against water bottles in general. They're good for holding water. Drinking water is a healthy choice. You can only hold so much water in the cup of your hands. The thing is, I signed a petition not to drink plastic water bottles because the bottles are filling up the landfills. I use a metal bottle at work and fill it up at the water fountain. So I don't use a plastic water bottle. But I'm fine with other people using water bottles as long as they recycle them. I try to focus on me being positive instead of the water bottle debate. I felt honored to be recognized. Today our employees club had the monthly drawing. The prize was a gift card to Barnes and Noble. Guess who won? That's right! I won. I'm on a roll.

Owl Hooting

The weather at the beginning of the week was vastly exaggerated by the television news station. We were supposed to get 2 to 4 inches of snow Monday morning, 2 to 4 more during the day, and 2 to 4 more overnight. I have a long driveway and a "Low To The Ground" Honda Civic so I knew I had better keep on top of it. That is why I was outside at 5:30 a.m. Tuesday morning shoveling what turned out to be a half inch of accumulation. As long as I was dressed and out there, I thought I would continue. As I neared the end of the job, down by the mailbox, I heard a sound that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. I stopped shoveling and listened. I heard it again. I heard an owl. The owl was very close. But this wasn't my usual neighborhood barred owl who says, "No soup for you." This owl said something like "Hooaaaaaw." What owl sounds like former Governor, Jesse Ventura?

The Great Influenza

My book club chose this book, "The Great Influenza-The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History" by John Barry in November. Seemed like a timely topic. Yet attendance last night was sparse. Was it because this book had 400 pages? Well, I have to admit I skimmed quite a few pages myself. So much detail! Some of the detail was interesting such as the medical symbol of a snake winding around a stick. Back in the days of Hippocrates, people with infections on their legs used a stick to bear some of the weight. The treatment was to use a trained snake to bite the infected spot and suck the poison out. Yikes. Most people know of this 1918 flu as the Spanish Flu. Is that because it started in Spain? No, it started here in the US. Because Spain suffered more than other countries? No. Because it ended in Spain? No. Because Spain had the only government brave enough to talk about it. The US, fearful of anti-war sentiment, kept silent. The flu started at a military barracks. Men were shipped out overseas and took the flu germs with them. Military bases such as Great Lakes Naval Station in Illinois and Fort Devens in Massachusetts (Offspring #1 has been at both) were nearly wiped out. John Barry does a thoroughly good job describing the social impact on the flu. Spitting on the sidewalk earned you a big fine. Some cities were overwhelmed. People wore surgical masks in public. The infrastructure could not support burying this many dead corpses. Many government workers died tried to keep up. People were panicked. Medical science did not have a flu vaccine yet. Doctors tried all kinds of things including injections of hydrogen peroxide. Nobody knew what to do. The leader of our discussion is a nurse. This winter she gave out flu shots. At first the H1N1 shots were restricted to immediate family members of children under 6 months old. She saw people lie about their family members because they were so desperate to get vaccinated. We had a really good discussion last night. This isn't a book I would normally pick up and read. The good thing about book club is that it pushes me outside my usual reading materials.

Feederwatch Update

One downy woodpecker, four black capped chickadee, two white breasted nuthatch, and two junco. Plus six squirrels who keep eating the suet that I put out for the nuthatches and the woodpeckers. I am seriously thinking about buying a super soaker. Squirrels zig zag so much when they run that a long stream of water is more likely to hit them than a single piece of ammo. The birds won't come around when the squirrels are on the deck.

New Home for Migwe

My canary, Migwe, got a new cage. This is a flight cage given to me by a friend of Offspring #1. Migwe is on the right side of the cage there, just minutes after arrival. A friend told me that when you move a goldfish from a small bowl into an aquarium, the fish swims in circles the same size as the small bowl. I wondered if this would happen to Migwe - if he'd flit about the size of a small cage. That didn't happen. For one thing, the food dish on the right is farther from the water dish on the left. That alone forced him to expand his range. He has a lot more room to roam in this cage. I hope he likes it. This cage came with an electric perch. You can see it on the left side of the cage below three wood perches. The electric perch is gray and points toward the camera. You plug it in. The first time I saw it I thought, well, never mind what I thought. It's an electric perch and has a thermostat that will keep Migwe's talons warm when the temperature drops at night.

A Day Outside

Today Offspring #2 and I volunteered at the sled dog festival at the Wildlife Science Center. We spent 6 hours outside among the wolf pens. Our job was to sell hot dogs, chips and pop. Really, coffee or hot cocoa might have been a better choice than pop. The hot dogs were kept in a large crock pot full of wiener water soup. I suppressed the urge to tell people this was not healthy food but instead I took their money and handed them their nitrate laden processed meat tubes. We kept the buns on top of the crock pot after one customer complained we sold him a frozen bun. Lots of people came to this event. I talked to one woman from Excelsior and another from Rochester. Many people wanted a ride in a dog sled. Dogs were invited to this event, leashed of course. Some dogs were a little freaked out by the wolves, lynx, cougar and the smelly gray fox. We had a fun day but we got cold standing outside for 6 hours. I had my warm snow pants on. The only part of me that was really cold were my toes. I had 2 pair of socks inside my sorel boots too. After a while we both seemed to loose the lubricant in our limbs. We were so stiff it was hard to sit down. I really struggled to fold myself back into my car at the end of our day. Now I feel great. We had a hot meal at Than Do on the ride home. I took some pain reliever and a hot shower and I'm drinking hot cocoa.

Russian Brides and Viagra at Work

Every day at work I get work related emails and spam emails. On Wednesday this week I counted 32 spam emails at work selling Viagra. I delete them without reading them. If I was a man and if I was interested in a medication like Viagra, I'd consult my doctor and let my medical insurance cover some of the cost. I wouldn't get my drugs from a spam email at work. Tucked inbetween these spam emails are emails related to my job and I want to read them. Some spam emails are not Viagra related and they trickily use real names in the subject line. I won't know until I view them if they are legitimate or not. I get 5 or more emails from people named Elena or Svetlana. These tricky emails say things like (and read this in a Boris Badenov or Natasha Fatale accent): "Remember we danced under the Russian moon. Why you no write back to me? Russian brides available. I miss you terribly." Who is sending me these emails? Mr. Big or Fearless Leader? (not Sex and the City Mr. Big but Mr. Big who supervised Boris and Natasha). Oddly enough, I am grateful for the Viagra emails because if you have to get spam, at least get spam that is recognizable without having to read it. I know I'm not interested in Viagra and can delete them quickly by just looking at the subject line. We've complained about these emails at work yet nothing slows them down. Our firewall seems to be made of Swiss cheese.

The Mouse Trap

I got together with some college roommates on Saturday. We ate and drank at Billy's Bar and went to the Lyric Arts Theater to see "The Mouse Trap," a play written by Agatha Christie. Do you like mysteries? I don't. Some mysteries I can tolerate if they're not too violent and not too complicated. Red herrings (clues written into the plot that are designed to confuse you and lead you astray) really bug me. I don't like all the BS. Just tell me the story and quit yanking my chain. Before we went to the play, I looked up Mouse Trap on Wikipedia. I read all about it. I not only found out who did it but also who was a police officer pretending to be a boarder. I enjoyed the play more because of my knowledge. And if you think that is a strange thing to do, I'll tell you something even stranger. Sometimes when I read a mystery book, I start by reading the last three pages before I go to the beginning. That is just the way I am. Agatha Christie's characters are funny, annoying, and endearing. She generously gave the right to the play to one of her grandson's who is now a millionaire from all the royalties. Wikipedia said it is a tradition at the end of every showing to ask the audience not to reveal who did it. I was happy to see the tradition continued even right here in Anoka. This was a good production of a classic play.

My Sister's Keeper

I read this book and saw the movie. Which was better? I cried more watching the movie. Both held my total attention and gripped my heart. I guess I liked the movie and the book equally. This story cuts close to home. An older sister has leukemia. The older sister's name was Cate - a deritive of Catherine. Wow, too close to home. We cried and cried all through the movie. But the tears were cathartic and healing. I would give my left arm to be able to prolong her life with my blood or my bone marrow. Thank modern medicine that more little sisters don't have to grow up without their big sister now days.

Where I Will Be on Saturday

The Geometry of Sisters

"The Geometry of Sisters" tells the story of two sisters who become separated and eventually reunite. Luanne Rice tells an intriguing tale about love, loss, estrangement, forgiveness, and family members sticking up for each other. Most of the story takes place in Newport, Rhode Island - a place I visited last summer. So when the kids in the story go to party on Eastons Beach or drive down Bellevue Avenue or drive over the Newport Bridge I kept thinking, "I remember that! I was there too!" I always enjoy reading stories about a city I have visited. I liked this book a lot.