Some Like It Hot

The weather today was hot and humid. I worked hard today. We helped Offspring #2 move into a house on campus. I didn't lift anything heavy but I did walk up and down 3 flights of stairs a lot. I swept. I vacuumed. I moved lighter bags and boxes. My favorite haul was a large blue sheet full of something soft (pillows? towels?). I slung it over my back and I felt like Santa Claus. I sat on the steps to rest and the sweat dripped off my head and soaked the concrete steps. Even thought I was hot and I was sweaty, I still like it hot. I love hot weather. I'd take this weather over cold any day. Right after I graduated from college, I ended up moving on New Year's Eve three years in a row. That was not any fun at all. If I have to move, I'd rather do it in the summertime.

Round and Round

Someone left an older Happenings Coupon book in the break room last week. I was told they left it for others to use because the book expired in a couple months. I picked it up casually; not expecting to use any. I saw a coupon for a one week trial at a local fitness center. I had a week off coming. Going to a health club would really improve my "staycation." I've been going to the fitness center every day to use their pool. Their pool is nice. The water is warm and clean. The lap lanes are much shorter than the pool I usually use. I feel like I have to turn around much more often. I swim a little and then turn, swim and turn. This pool has two lap lanes roped off. On Sunday, no one but me was using the pool. Rather than swim and turn, I thought I'd try using both lanes. I'd swim to the end and before I hit the wall turn left and swim back down again. Round and round I went counter clockwise. After about ten circles I began to feel like a goldfish in a bowl. Eventually other people came into the pool and I had to quit hogging both lanes but it was fun while it lasted. I am going to have to find the person who left the coupon book. I've been making great use of it.

Sunday Road Trip

Today three friends joined me at my house to go for a bike ride. We had two white bikes, one red and one blue. We had two Harleys, a Yamaha, and my Suzuki. We had 3 with loud pipes and mine. One started up in the driveway - vroom. Another-vroom. Another-vroom. Mine - nnnnnnnnnnnnn. I had to verbally add a vroom. I don't want to stick out. We headed west on the road I live on. I was third in line. What fun to wave to the neighbors as I pull out in this parade. Before we got to the highway, a red squirrel came barreling across the road. I don't know if it actually hit the front tire on the first bike or simply put on it's own squirrelly brakes but it did a backward somersault and took off running back where it came from. Was that an omen? A good or bad omen? I'm still not sure. Our plan was to circle Mille Lacs Lake clockwise. We headed north through St. Francis, Bradford, and Dalbo. Turkey vultures teetered in the wind north of Bradford. A bald eagle soared over our heads in Ogilvie. We headed west on Highway 23. About a mile out of Milaca, one bike quit working. We let it cool down while we waited in a driveway. The homeowner came out to check on us. He was very nice and allowed us to leave the bike in his yard. One of my friends got on another friend's bike. We had lunch at the Embers in Milaca and arranged for a trailer to come and pick it up. I had oatmeal with fresh blueberries and boy, was that good! One friend had to get home so she left early. Some times plans don't work out. Although we never saw Mille Lacs we still had a nice adventure. After the bike left on the trailer, two of us headed south on Highway 47. We took some back roads. We went on one road off County Road 8 that took us past the Livonia cemetery. We saw a big buck cooling himself in swamp water up past his legs. We took a twisty, curvy, hilly road. One a sharp curve I had to avoid a huge snapping turtle that had been hit by a car. I swear it's back was a good 12 inches across. I wonder how old that turtle was. I really enjoyed the day. The wind was strong but it was steady. The traffic was light and the roads were in excellent condition.

Ongoing Battle

I am engaged in an ongoing battle with a nest of ground-dwelling bees. I've used poison 5 times. I put a clear plastic food container over the large hole in the ground and covered it with a brick. Still the bees survived. I sprayed some more. Bees scare me so I have to wait until it is completely dark to go out there and attack. I saw the hive entrance was completely covered in white powder. When I checked again I saw many dead bee bodies blocking the entrance. I thought I had them licked. I was tempted to dig with a shovel to explore this hive and see how big it really was. This afternoon I took my shovel out to the nest. Just to be sure I waited and watched first. Good thing I did! Bees had dug a new nest entrance three inches west of the original hole. Can you imagine what would have happened to me if I stuck my shovel into a live bee nest and opened it up to the air? Ai Carumba. As soon as it gets completely dark, I'll be out there with my flashlight and bee poison again.

Venture North

I recently discovered a public television show that I really like. The show is called "Venture North." I don't know how long it's been on. The show focuses on the Lake Superior area. Today's shows had a segment on red-shouldered hawks. I was interested because I've had a red-shouldered hawk circling my yard every day this summer. The show focused on the 40 pair of red shouldered hawks within Fort Ripley. The hawks prefer large tracts of forested land with water. Their diet consists of frogs, salamanders, and toads. The episode said the Fort Ripley hawks make up 20% of the state red-shouldered hawk population. If I figure that right, there are only 400 red shouldered hawks in the state. If that is true, I feel very fortunate to have one in my yard. I've only seen one though. If my hawk doesn't mate successfully, it may not return here. Every time I've seen this show, Venture North, I've been fascinated and intrigued by the content. If you get a chance, Venture North is worth the time to watch it.

I Didn't Mean To Scare People

with my epic news about big changes. I am fine. Everything will be fine. It's just that I learned something really big in my life and I can't talk about it yet. And I want to. I want to talk about it so I can process it fully. I said I wouldn't talk about it so I won't. Not yet. Sometimes it sucks to be a person who means what she says. Ugggghhhhh! So Offspring #2, don't worry, it's nothing bad. And Dear Anonymous (and I think I know who you are), I about rolled off my chair laughing when I read your comment. Until I realized you probably weren't talking about me making you an uncle. After that it wasn't so funny. I have no idea if you will be an uncle again. You are blessed to have many, many, did I say many?, uteruses in your immediate family so pull up your uncle pants and start uncling.

Big Changes

Today has been a strange day. Big changes are coming my way. Epic changes. Stephen Hawking says, "Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change." We shall see how this turns out. I'm not allowed to say more at this point.

Saul and Patsy

"Saul and Patsy" is one of my favorite kind of books; a family drama. The author is from Minnesota and his name is Charles Baxter. Saul and Patsy live on the east coast. They fall in love, marry, and move to Michigan where they start a family. Both Saul and Patsy are quirky characters. They handle things WAY differently than I would. Often in the story, Saul and Patsy would do something and I would think, "That is NOT the way I would handle this situation." Sometimes it works out for them and one, very important time, it doesn't work out for them. One of Saul's high school students becomes attached to him in a creepy and unhealthy way. I would have called the police several times but Saul and Patsy do not handle their problems in this conventional way. I really enjoyed this easy-to-read novel.

Not A Peaceful Neighborhood Today

I had the day off work. I wanted to spend a day at home enjoying some peace and quiet. Turns out I didn't get that. My neighborhood was not peaceful today. When I walked out the front door to get the newspaper, a dead body lay on my step. A dead mouse body that is. What is the story here? Some neighborhood cat leaving me an offering? Who or what killed this mouse and left it here? I wish my shovel had a longer handle. I don't like mice, dead or alive. I want to get rid of this mouse. You've heard about the salmonella infected eggs at the grocery store? Yesterday I heard the chickens got salmonella from eating a rat that was in the chicken feed. I don't want the chickens to find this mouse or they might get salmonella too. Later I was busy in the kitchen when the chickens, who were roaming free in the yard, started up a chicken ruckus. Sounded like a chicken riot out there. Sometimes they get all alarmed and when I go out there I find nothing going on. I went out on my deck. On the lowest branch of a white oak tree - just fifteen feet from the deck - a hawk flew off to the north. I didn't get a good look at the hawk but it was a big one. I don't think it's my usual red-shouldered hawk because this hawk was silent. So this time they had a good reason to raise a ruckus. I went back to my work and ten minutes later the chickens start raising a ruckus again. I can't see them from the deck so I run out the front yard. I have two black spruce trees on the east side of the house. The chickens were all gathered by the spruce tree. I counted all four of them. Then I saw the hawk fly off one of the lower branches of the closest spruce tree. I was a witness to an attempted chicken murder.

Paddling

Today we went on our annual canoe trip down the St. Croix. As we have done this over the years, some people have grown up and lost interest or moved away or got busy. Others have gained interest. The important thing is that people have a good time and want to come back again. This year the water was very high. Sandbars completely disappeared. Some islands disappeared. The spots where we always have lunch disappeared. Usually we have 30 feet of beach at the canoe rental shack. This year the water was just a few feet from the shack. More water makes for a faster run. Gusty winds kept pushing us back. Sometimes if we didn't paddle, we would have gone backwards against the current. I was paired with a lightweight. We had to put the lunch bags by her so she could keep her end of the canoe down. She may be small but her arms are much stronger than last year. Together we managed. We found a new spot to have lunch. We had sandwiches, bugles (a canoe trip must), strawberries, grapes, cheese sticks, licorice, and pound cake. We saw vultures and great blue herons and several turtles. As we ate our lunch we saw the Lockness monster go by. Actually it was a log with a serpent like head coming out of the water, a hump in the middle, and a tail that also stuck out of the water. Later we caught up with the monster and got a closer view. The closer we got the less like a monster it looked. Traffic on the river was light. Today the river water looked very red. I don't remember seeing it that red before. Spending time on the water is an important part of summer for me.

Breaking Free

I read this book called, "Breaking Free" by Herschel Walker in about a day. Herschel is famous for his football career. I am probably stating the obvious here but I had no idea who he was. I pay no attention to football. I just knew his name sounded familiar. He was a Minnesota Viking at one point. I didn't read this book because of football though. I read it because I was interested in dissociative identity disorder. This disorder is a tough thing to have and only by the grace of God do I have good mental health. The disorder used to be known as "split personality." Back in the 1970's, I read the book named, "Sybil." I also saw the movie starring Sally Field. Herschel doesn't dramatize the disorder like the story about Sybil did. Herschel just says it plain. He wasn't abused or neglected as a child. He didn't suffer any significant childhood trauma outside of being bullied by his classmates. Being bullied for your size and your slight stutter can be traumatizing though. For Herschel, separating himself from being the target of bullies helped him cope. When a situation got too tough for him to handle, he distanced himself so he wouldn't have to experience it. One alter (personality) felt no pain - that came in handy many times. One alter was the commander and could be assertive. One alter was a negotiator. As Herschel grew up, having the alters wasn't so helpful. He lost periods of time. He couldn't remember what happened when certain alters took over. Herschel knew it could be bad when the commander took over. When the commander took over more often than Herschel wanted, he sought help and received his diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder (DID). Some very scary incidents happened. Much of the book is about exercise and sports. Herschel went to the extreme when it came to exercise. I suppose all good athletes go to the extreme. I skimmed over the sports stuff. Herschel tries hard not to bad mouth anyone. He's a good guy. He tries really hard to do the right thing. He comes across a little rigid and a little hard on himself. I think it takes a brave man to write a book like this.

Swimming on Sunday

Today was hot and sticky. A friend and I decided to meet halfway between our homes to go swimming. Halfway is Big Lake. There is a nice swimming beach right off Highway 10. I liked it fine except for the $5 fee. I don't think people should have to pay to go swimming. It's one of my pet peeves. In any case we did go swimming. The lake was a little crowded with people and floating pieces of weeds. They have a nice beach. Beyond the beach is a nicely mowed oak savanna. We saw quite a few twin oaks or oaks that were joined together for the first six inches and then separated into separate trunks. I tried to figure out if they were one tree that forked very low or two separate trees that grew together at the base. My guess is two trees joined together at the base. We saw at least a half dozen of these twin oaks. Big Lake has a lot of boat traffic. We watched jet skiers, water skiers, water tubers (sounds like a wet potato), and big boats go by. The boats seemed to like going right past the swimming beach creating waves for us to bob on. After swimming for over an hour we rested while we dried off. I didn't want to cross the Sunday evening traffic on Highway 10 so I headed east and rode my motorcycle around the lake. I took the back roads traveling through Orrock, Elk River, and Nowthen on my way home. What a beautiful night for a ride. The moon was full. I wished I was like E.T. and could fly up to it.

Wicked Plants

A sibling lent me this book called "Wicked Plants-The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother and Other Botanical Atrocities" by Amy Stewart. The plants are labeled at the top of the page as "deadly" or "dangerous" or "Illegal" or "intoxicating" or "painful" or "destructive" Wicked comes in many forms. I have some wicked plants in my yard. I have poison ivy and deadly nightshade and stinging nettle and ragweed. I used to have water hyacinth but I couldn't find any this year. I was mildly surprised water hyacinth was wicked because it costs $8 at my local garden center. But when I saw a lake infested with water hyacinth in Africa I can see why it is wicked. The hyacinth grows so quickly and so thickly the anglers cannot get their boats out to open water. So I guess water hyacinth, pretty as it is, could be considered wicked. The book is a quick and easy read. The illustrations are a little disturbing. Perhaps the artist was using some illegal wicked plants when drawing them? Plants can be as dangerous as animals if we're not careful. Just this week a friend was reminiscing about her primary school in St. Louis Park. Her mother was very upset with the landscaping plan. The school had a hedge of shrubs with poisonous berries lining both sides of the school entrance. My first reaction to that is some school authority had a Darwinian plan. Any student smart enough to get into the school without eating the berries was worth educating.

Handling Snakes

Last night I went to a Master Naturalist meeting. We always have social time before the meeting. Two people, at separate times, mentioned they have downy woodpeckers nesting in a birdhouse. Normally these woodpeckers only nest in holes they themselves have drilled in trees. Was it a situation like, “Look honey – here’s a nice home with a pre-drilled door!” One naturalist had downy woodpeckers drinking from her oriole feeder. That is unusual too. Later in the meeting we had an opportunity to learn how to handle animals when working with an audience. We talked about frogs first. Since frog’s skin is so permeable, even the normal handling can be harmful to them. Anyone with Dorito dust or salt on their hands could really do some damage. Snakes were next. Some snakes, like garter snakes, are active. If you hold them tight so they can’t move, they freak out and thrash around. The best way to hold a garter snake is to “be a treadmill” for it. Allow the garter snake to move forward through your hand and put your other hand in front so it can keep moving forward. Keep switching your hands and keep up the speed the snake is propelling itself. Most of us took turns holding the garter snake. Not me. When I was a kid up at the lake, one of my cousins put a garter snake down the back of my shirt. I stood up right away and the snake fell out of my shirt to the ground but I still don’t want to hold any snakes. There was also a hog-nosed snake. These snakes are calmer and don’t need to be on a treadmill. They will, however, seek warmer spots and may slither under your clothes into private areas. As I watched the others hold the snakes, I noticed how quiet they became – the people and the snakes got quiet. Holding snakes seemed to relax these people. We could hold lizards. It’s always best to support the front of the body and keep the head away from people. The tail end of a snake or lizard will not bite you. We had a chance to hold a pigeon and a ferret too. I didn’t hold any animals. I’m comfortable holding chickens and dogs and I don’t mind catching frogs or grasshoppers but that is about as far as I want to go. Crikey, I guess I’m no crocodile hunter.

George T. On Stage

We attended the George Thorogood concert at the Minnesota Zoo. I wonder what the animals thought. I'm sure they've never heard it so loud before. As George approached the stage, everyone stood up to get a better look and we never sat down again. Everyone stood for the entire concert. Was he b-b-b-b-bad to the bone? Oh, yes, he was bad. He was raunchy. Like all bad boys he wore black jeans and a black t-shirt. The weird thing was he wore white shoes. White shoes? Not white tennis shoes either, they were white loafers. AND white wrist bands. With a black bandanna. Sometimes when he is onstage he will eye somebody in the audience and walk forward in short little steps with his jaw set. I kept thinking, who does he remind me of? I see a little Mick Jagger in his performance. But the wrist bands, the headband, the prancing little steps and the hand on his hip. Oh, for god's sake, he's part Richard Simmons! I had to banish that thought because thinking he's Richard Simmons would totally ruin the night for me. George really knows how to work the audience. He had us eating out of his hands. He's full of himself but he's self-deprecating too so that makes him lovable. At one point he stopped to laugh and said, "Sometimes I'm so full of sh== that even I can't believe it." I think the best part of the show is the obvious enjoyment he gets out of performing. He just did not want to quit. The concert is supposed to be over at ten o'clock but George wasn't done yet. He kept riffing on his guitar, adding extra verses to songs. He came back out twice. After each set, he'd lay on the stage floor as if he was too exhausted to stand up. His fellow band members had to pick him up. Then he'd start playing again. As we were walking up the amphitheater steps to go home, he came out AGAIN! He just couldn't get enough of us I guess. That last time he didn't come out to play, he came out to pick up this 9 year old girl who sat in the front row. Earlier he had used his guitar to "knight" her. At the end he picked her up and held her above his head while the audience cheered. Who would bring a nine year old girl to a George Thorogood concert anyway? I have a feeling he's really not a bad boy. He uses that image to promote his image. He put on a great show.

B-B-B-B-BAD

Dear Reader,

As you know, I am a mild mannered person; a liberal feminist. I read books. I enjoy the orchestra. I'm concerned about the environment and social causes. I love nature. But when it comes to rock and roll, I become a complicated person. There is something in me that likes the bad boys. Raunchy lyrics? I'm singing them in my head. Misogynistic themes in rock and roll? I'm all over that. George Thorogood playing at the Minnesota Zoo amphitheater? I had tickets purchased a month ago. And he IS a bad boy. Bad to the bone. Review to follow.

A Close One

Today I was mowing the lawn and dodged a bullet. I mowed over a ground dwelling bee's nest without getting stung. This is the third time I've encountered such a menace in my many years of mowing. These bees are sneaky. You can't see their hive because it's underground. The only way to notice them is to see them flying around or in the the entrance. These bees become disturbed by the mower and fly out looking to attack. The cooler weather might have helped me because I didn't get stung. I saw the bees flying around the small hole in the ground only after I had passed over the nest. These bees tend to nest in the short grass in sunny spots in the yard. The first time I ran over a nest I got stung four times. I was dancing and screaming yet strangely reluctant to let go of the bar the keeps the mower running. That was in the back yard. The second time the bees nested in the boulevard and I saw them when I passed close to but not over their nest. This time the nest is halfway between my deck and my pond. I'll mark it with a stake today and poison them tonight when it is cool and dark. The bees will be less active in the cold weather. I tolerate a lot of wildlife in my yard. I usually don't bother with insects that are outside the house. But these ground dwelling bees have got to go.

Pulling Weeds

There is nothing like pulling weeds out of the garden after a hard rain. The weeds come out so easy. You can grab a handful and they come out in one piece with a slight tug. The roots slide out of the ground but cling to the earth so you have to shake the soil off in big clumps. You can actually hear the roots stretch and tear. It's all very satisfying. In drier weather, you have to include very single branch of the crabgrass or it won't come out. After a rain you can just gather up most of the crabgrass branches and it all comes out with a pleasant pull. It's raining again right now so it ought to be good weed pulling tomorrow too. I have many left to pull. Here are some photos from the garden. Lacking motivation to do chores today, I told myself, "Self, if you clean the floors and shake the rugs, you can go for a swim." I cleaned the floors and shook the rugs. Then I put jeans on over my swim suit and rode the motorcycle up to Orono Park in Elk River. I might have looked a little odd as I took off the helmet, glasses, gloves, jacket, boots, socks and jeans and laid them on a towel but I didn't care. I waded out past the kids and swam from buoy to buoy several times. I usually swim in a pool. Lakes are different. This lake was very turbid. I wore my goggles so I could see underwater but there wasn't much to see. Everything was greenish brown under water. Even my own arm in front of my face was barely a shadow. Since I could barely see my hand in front of my face, I wondered how close a fish could get before I saw it. That kinda creeped me out. I never used to be like this. When I was a kid I thought it was cute when snapping turtles popped their heads up next to me. I didn't swim long in the murky water but I got enough to give my arms and shoulders a good work out.

AGB

I try to be nice and not judge people but sometimes a spade is a spade and an agb is an agb. Don't know what an agb is? Keep reading and you will find out. I know this guy. He doesn't work with me (thank Buddha). He's not related to me (thank Allah). He's not a friend. He's someone I run into a couple times a year. Several times he has told us he is too busy to continue with our group because he has more highbrow things to do with his time. He gets my hopes up. But he keeps coming back. I thought he was in his 70's but it turns out he is only in his late 50's. He is something else. He will tell you, repeatedly, not to decide a certain way because it is less work. He unabashedly assumes we would always choose the path of less work. He must think we're lazy. He does not hesitate to say so. "Now don't decide because it's less work," he'll say. In fact, he likes to keep saying it over and over until I'd like to smack him in the mouth. And then once a decision is made after much discussion and a vote is taken, he says, "I knew you would choose that. It's less work." He has the gall to say that even though HE MADE THE DECIDING VOTE. Someone calls him on it. Can he admit HE chose less work? Nooooooo. Can he admit the choice was a better one on merits other than less work? Hell, no. It's only less work if it's one of us making the decision. I can only conclude he thinks his decisions are on a higher plane. He loves to hear himself talk. Sometimes when he's talking I can help but think how this agb would have made an excellent character on the Seinfeld show. No doubt he would have a recurring role. I haven't asked but he must have been a college professor at one time. I won't ask because then he'll talk some more and I have heard enough from this guy. I think he misses having a forced, captive audience. He talks and talks. He talks down to us. He will say things like "the written word was first recorded fifty five hundred years ago. That means five thousand, five hundred years." I KNOW WHAT FIFTY FIVE HUNDRED YEARS AGO MEANS! He doesn't have to say it two ways. And who cares when the first word was written? Most people like a little give and take during conversation. Not this agb. He's all take. He will go ON and ON and ON. It doesn't matter how many people roll their eyes or slump down on the table resting their head on their arms. He's probably used to that from being a college professor. He might even expect it. Physically displaying complete and utter boredom doesn't slow him down. Social cues don't matter to him. Telling him directly and assertively he's taking too much time doesn't bother him in the least. He'll go right on talking. In fact, first he'll talk for five minutes about how he thought he was entitled to more time and then he'll go on talking about what he was talking about before. This agb likes to talk about how right he is. If he made a list, he will research other people who made the same list and compare how many of his choices are on their lists. And if an expert made a list that doesn't include his choices, he'll tell us, in detail, why they were wrong to not include it. He will even (I am not making this up) read to you for 10 minutes from a paper he wrote in college. Is the paper related to the topic? No. The connection is very obscure. How many people in their 50's keep the papers they wrote in college anyway? Who would think, without asking, that anyone would want to hear another person's forty year old college paper read aloud? Only an arrogant gas bag would think that. That is right, I called him an arrogant gas bag. And I tell you what, my life is too short to give this agb another minute of my time. Ever.

Cowabunga, Dude

This morning I rode my motorcycle to work again. As I headed south on Highway 47, the sun was to my direct left. My shadow was to my right and was traveling the same speed. The sun was at a low angle. My image shows about half my height is wheels. My shadow was distorted by the angle of the sun. The reflection of the wheels was exaggerated and took up about 3/4 of the height of my shadow. I haven't put my saddle bags on yet so I wear a backpack over my jacket and under my orange safety vest to carry my lunch and other stuff I need. And I wore my helmet, of course. So as I admired my shadow, I couldn't help but think - my shadow looks just like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Am I Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo or, uh, what was the fourth turtle's name again?

Lincoln

Gore Vidal wrote this historical novel named "Lincoln." According to the reviews, this novel is historically accurate, almost like a history book but with conversations. Vidal is a big writer and he wrote a big momma of a book that almost gives you carpal tunnel when you read the hard cover version. For reasons I won't go into (because they reflect poorly on me and this is my blog so I get to choose how I get reflected) I didn't want to like this book. But I did like it. I read all 560 pages of it. I finished it at 10 p.m. the night before my book club meeting. Lincoln is an interesting president. Some say he was the best president in American history. I will say this about him, he had a singular focus - to preserve the union. He kept his eyes on the prize. For a new nation in a civil war, that was a good quality for our President to have. Lincoln wasn't an abolitionist. He didn't propose abolishing slavery until that idea helped preserve the nation. He would have preferred not to expand slave ownership into more states instead of getting rid of slavery entirely. He proposed that all the black people be shipped to a country in central or south America. When he talked that idea over with some black people, he was shocked to hear they didn't like that idea. Lincoln took all kinds of liberty with presidential powers during his tenure. Presidents who serve in time of war tend to do that. He went overboard. He made George W. Bush look mild in comparison. He suspended habeus corpus. But it was a crazy time. His in-laws were secessionists. Can you imagine declaring war on the relatives of your wife? He survived multiple assassination attempts. He requested that his stovepipe hats with bullet holes be burned so no one would know he was shot at again. His parenting style was extremely lax. He let his children run wild in the White House. His wife had a spending problem that he knew about and ignored, even when he knew she peddled his influence for more credit on her accounts. Lincoln was a smart man who knew how to influence people but he didn't use his influence on his family. He gave his political enemies positions in his cabinet. This led to lots of drama and many letters of resignation. Often Lincoln would ask the resigned cabinet member to stay. Eventually he would accept a letter of resignation and boy, was that cabinet member surprised! Although smart, he didn't think some things through. Lincoln asked the secretary of the treasury, Salmon P. Chase, how long it took him to sign all the dollar bills. Chase had an extremely fanciful signature. Chase had a strong reaction to this question. He said he didn't sign the dollar bills. His signature was printed on the bills because it would take him years to sign the dollar bills. For the rest of the day, Lincoln puzzled on that fact before he came to accept the idea that he had been wrong. Vidal explains in his novel the reaction to the Gettsburg address. Some newspapers said it was the worst speech ever written and the President should be ashamed of it. Other newspapers said the speech brought the listeners to tears. This novel showed me that some things never change. Newspapers are not any worse and in some cases, not any better than they were 160 years ago. If you like historical novels and have some time to read, you might like to read "Lincoln."

I Am Number One

I was the first voter at ward one, precinct two this morning. It's nice to be number one at something! It would also be nice to vote for someone instead of voting for the least annoying person but you can't have everything.

Swimming in the Quarry

My troop of Girl Scouts picked a great day to reunionize and go swimming in the granite quarry in Waite Park. I had been there before but never in the middle of summer. It's a crowded place! The weather was hot and humid so it was a perfect place to cool off. At only $4 per carload, this is a sweet deal. The photo is a little dark but you can see some heads bobbing in the water and some neon colored floating devices in the distance. In the far distance you might be able to make out the people lined up on the granite cliffs, waiting their turn to jump into the deep, deep water of the quarry. The quarry had a nice dock for those who prefer to jump from a height of 12-18 inches above the water. There are a variety of heights to jump off depending on where you stand around the quarry. You can jump anywhere from a two feet cliff to a thirty feet cliff and others in between those two. Where did I jump in? Are you kidding? I slid into the water off a rock. The water felt great; cool, refreshing, and invigorating. I felt great until that one moment where I went to perch myself on an underwater rock and felt something in my back pocket. Crap, my cell phone! I, who usually forget the cell phone, who gets in trouble for not having it with me, went swimming with it in my pocket. Lucky for me I don't have a blackberry or an I-phone. I have a three year old tracfone that was starting to give out anyway. For some unknown reason this phone saves up almost all the texts I write and then chooses a day in a subsequent month to send the texts out and confuse everyone on my contact list. I took the cell phone apart and put the three pieces into a bag of white rice and sealed it tight. I hope the rice will absorb all the moisture and allow the tracfone to work again.

Nice Ride

Today I went for a nice ride on the motorcycle. There was three of us. Three women. Three white bikes. Two Harleys and one Suzuki. Two motorcycles with loud pipes and one with impressively loud backfires. I have a gas problem. Sometimes I sound like a rifle shot especially when decelerating down into the St. Croix Valley. We met in Ham Lake. We traveled north east through Forest Lake, Lindstrom, Chisago City, and Taylors Falls. We traveled south in Wisconsin and stopped for a drink in Osceola. We headed south again and crossed over the St. Croix on the Stillwater lift bridge. I thought it was pretty cool to be motoring over the water. I could see the river below me. Boats were right underneath us. We headed further south on the Minnesota side through Lakeland and into Afton. I had never been to Afton before. We stopped for lunch at the Sail Away Cafe. They serve delicious food. We sat outside in a garden that had tomatoes, peppers, grapes, Swiss chard, parsley, and all kinds of flowers growing. A yellow swallowtail butterfly hovered around the purple phlox. I had never seen one before but I remembered the name from looking through my butterfly book. After lunch we took the Stagecoach Trail past the Lake Elmo airport. After that we wandered around a bit until we headed east on Highway 96 and went back to Stillwater. We headed north out of Stillwater. Just a little way out of town there is a road called Arcola Trail. It runs east off the highway and runs parallel before coming out again about 5 miles up the road. In between the first Arcola Trail and the second Arcola trail, we ran into a swarm of yellow butterflies. These weren't anything fancy like the yellow swallowtail butterfly. These were much smaller and solid yellow. The number of yellow butterflies impressed me. I'll bet I saw a hundred of them. At Marine on the St. Croix we took one of my favorite roads, number 4, west. Just out of town the roads gets curvy and hilly. Trees form a canopy over the road. We go through a small tunnel. I beeped my horn of course. My bike horn makes a road runner sound, "Meep Meep." My friend beeped her Harley in the tunnel. I burst out laughing. She sounded like a car! This road is so beautiful it could be in a movie. We went through Hugo, Centerville, Lino Lakes before heading home. I think I put on 180 miles. Nice ride!

Dinner For The Schmucks

I saw "Dinner for Schmucks" last night with a friend. I heard it got bad reviews. I heard it was cheesy. But I had to see it. The truth is, and I'm not naming names - oh, wait - I am, I happen to be related to Schmucks. One branch of the family tree is Schmucks. Therefore I had to see this movie. Was it bad? Well, yes. Was it cheesy? Yes, some of the lines were groaners. Did I laugh out loud? Many times . Am I glad I saw it? Yes, I'm glad we went. The lessons learned include 1. Judging people only hurts yourself. 2. You can learn a lesson from anyone. 3. Relationships are the most important thing in life. 4. Attitude can be the greatest asset and the greatest handicap.

The Stripper Song

For some reason, I have had the stripper song in my head for days now. I walk along whistling the tune. I hum it in my head. You know the one. It's an instrumental. Hum it with me, "Da da da da, da da da da, da da da da, da DA da da, Da da (ba-boom), Da (ba-boom), Da (ba-boom). Da (ba-boom),da da da da da DA da da da. Sometimes my hips move to the ba-boom parts. It's crazy, right? How do I get this song out of my head? I've read that to get rid of an ear-wig (a song in your head) you must sing the complete lyrics and finish the tune. Well, that won't work on an instrumental song like the Stripper Song. I'm hoping that blogging about the Stripper song will remove it from my mind. So here you go. Wikepedia says the Stripper song was composed in 1958 by David Rose. The song became a hit when it was used in the movie, "Gypsy" in 1962. It's a jazzy song with prominent trombone lines. The Stripper song was used in many films including some I have seen such as the Full Monty, Wallace and Grommit, and Are You Being Served. The song was used in a PG Tips commercial and I saw that commercial at the Walker Art Center BBC Best Commercial Awards. The song was used in an American commercial that I remember seeing for Noxema shave creme. We saw a close up of a man shaving his face. His blade moved to the music. A Swedish model advised the man to "Take it off. Take it all off." Thinking back, that commercial had strong sexual content even for the 1960's. I didn't pick up on it then. I was an innnocent child. No, seriously, I was completely unaware (unlike the kids of today). The Stripper song made number one on the Billboard charts in 1962. Okay, that is done. Now the Stripper song can leave my mind. I hope I didn't put it in yours unless you wanted it there. Ba-boom.

How Humid Was It?

It was humid this morning. How humid was it? It was SO humid that when I came to a stop at a stop light this morning and put my foot down on the white painted pavement to keep my balance, my foot slipped six inches away from me and I almost toppled over. Moisture had gathered on top of the paint making it very slippery. And then I farted. How embarrassing. I love my new motorcycle but I don't like the backfiring. Sometimes it backfires when I slow down. And it usually backfires when I turn off the engine. Sometimes when I turn off the engine I hear a lady like muffled puff. Other times I hear an explosive BANG! So I say, "Excuse me." Today I drove the bike 35 miles and I had six backfires. I know it's excess gas exploding but why so often? I bought a can of sea foam (fuel cleaner) on the way home. I'll put a couple ounces in the gas tank and see if that helps this embarrassing gas problem I seem to have.

Hey Jude?

One More

I've got one more story from the Mississippi River Challenge and then I will let it go. One pair of canoe riders caught our attention. This couple was comprised of two men. The older man looked to be in his 40's. The younger man looked about 15. Maybe they were father and son. Both men were small. I'd guess they were both about 5 feet tall. Both of them were wiry and muscular. Sometimes they would remove their life jackets and paddle bareback. They worked well together. When the front paddler paddled on the right, the back paddler did the left. When they switched sides they did it in unison. We could tell they had lots of experience. They paddled very efficiently. Their strokes were shallow but powerful. This pair of muscular men paddled in only one speed - AS FAST AS THEY COULD POSSIBLY GO. They paddled past us many times. They would speed to the next break and then paddle upstream for a time before heading back again. I'm sure they had more time for breaks than anyone else. They probably put on more miles than anyone else too. At the Harriet Island rest stop we saw them racing a kayak upstream. It's hard for a canoe to beat a sea kayak. The race was neck and neck when we went by them. What motivates these guys to paddle so fast? My partner and I would stop to identify a raptor or look at a building or examine a flower. I don't think these guys ever stopped to enjoy themselves except at rest stops. I think they might have missed some of the fun.

Summer

What defines summer for you? Is it lazing outside reading a book in the shade? Picking onions and jalapenos and adding it to the ingredients for lunch? Relaxing on a deck with family while the little ones run around the yard screaming and wearing glow sticks on their wrists? Is it sharing memories with good friends while treading water in their backyard pool? Getting a call from a friend who reminds you of who you used to be? Maybe summer is taking a new road on your motorcycle and seeing where it ends up; content to get lost and find home again. Picking that first tomato off the plant, rubbing the dust off on your pants and biting into that home grown tomato taste? Is it the smell of water drying a concrete sidewalk on a hot day? Or the smell of freshly cut grass? Is summer that soggy feeling of your blue jeans around your legs right before a good rain? Or maybe it's that burning itch of poison ivy on your ankles (AGAIN)! Maybe summer is sitting outside at an outdoor concert listening to music as the sun goes down. What ever summer may be for you, I hope you are getting your fill. It's August already. Summer won't last much longer.