Mississippi River Challenge 2011 time lapse of Sunday morning departure

This time lapse video shows paddlers leaving Fort Snelling on the left and head downriver toward St. Paul. 

Happiness is Dry Underpants

Our tent inside Fort Snelling

Every part of me is wet here at Harriet Island after paddling in the rain for two hours.

Everybody is wet.

By afternoon the sun came out.

Lotus in bloom.

The other thing I forgot to mention about the first day of paddling was being so close to the airport.  Here the Minnesota River is in a deep gorge.  You can see the gorge clearly from Highway 35W.  The deep valley, cut by the glacial river Warren is miles across.  From the river, all we can see are the tall trees lining the banks.  So when a plane comes off the runway at the international airport, we can't see it coming and we can't really hear it coming either.  As I paddled, planes would suddenly appear  low and just above the trees and blast us with their jet engine noises and scare me half to death.  The planes were too big and too loud to be that sudden. 

On Saturday night we went to bed in our tent listening to the Roe Family singers.  Rain started coming down and that was also a pleasant sound to put us to sleep.  In the morning, rain fell again.  I started hearing planes taking off so I knew it must be 5 or 6 in the morning.  I waited for the rain to let up but it never did.  We had to get up and pack up in the pouring rain.  I've packed up wet tents before but not like this. When we got it folded and picked it up to put it in the tent bag about 3 quarts of water poured out.  What a mess!  I got a little bummed out to think I had to paddle in the rain.  We thought about calling it quits.  We decided to soldier on.  Offspring #2 volunteered to push out boats and I was glad she was there because after I sat down in my kayak I realized I forgot my paddle. She got it for me and off we went, paddling in the pouring rain.  I had my raincoat on but I got wet.  Every part of me was wet.  By the time I paddled to the Highway 35E bridge I realized that paddling in the rain isn't really all that bad.  Sure my underpants were wet and I was sitting in a puddle.  But the rain was clean and the rain was warm.  I paddled through clouds of mist sitting on top of the water.  The paddling seemed easier today.  Maybe the  weight of the extra water in my boat was helpful.  It was still raining when we got to Harriet Island.  I stopped to use the bathroom.  With wet underpants, I felt like I had already gone.  When we left Harriet Island 15 minutes later the rain had stopped. We paddled almost all the way to the Highway 494 bridge before we stopped for lunch.  We could take off our raincoats, apply sunscreen, and start wearing sun hats again.  My sunhat was totally soaked and it felt comfortably cool on my head.   We ran into more barge traffic.  I wasn't expecting this.  I thought barges had Sundays off.  One barge full of gravel cut from the east side to the west side of the river right behind us.  I could see it hurry to get across before the next set of kayaks and canoes came by.  That was scary.  Later, way down the river, I saw a large white boat pushing three barges.  At first I thought it was a mirage.  Then I thought it was real but stationary.  As we got closer I saw it was moving.  Gulp. Three barges are really going to make some waves for me.  As it came even closer I saw it was three sets of three barges.  A total of nine barges was heading upriver.  We pulled to the far right to stay as far away from this monstrosity as we could.  The nine barges displaced so much water that it created a bathtub effect.  Water was flowing and splashing every which way.  I was trying to avoid a dead tree to my right when suddenly a wave sucked me sideways into the tree.  I admit I screamed a little.  The safety boat was only 20 feet away and they looked up. I got myself out of the tree and assured them I was fine.  The same thing happened to my friend.  She got pulled into the dead tree too.  But we were fine. A little danger always makes for a better trip.  Pleasure boats created waves too.  I can't understand why some people race their big boats full speed up and down the river.  Why are they in such a hurry?  Can't they see the problems they create for us paddlers?  One guy in a speedboat was speeding dangerously close to us.  The river is wide.  He could use the other side.  I gestured to him.  And no, I didn't give him the finger.  I raised my arms beseechingly, palms up, just like my sixth grade teacher, Sister Mary John did when she would say, "Listen my people!"  So what did this reckless speeder do in response to my gesture?  He gunned the engine even faster.  I didn't think he could go faster.  After our final rest stop at Lions Park in Cottage Grove, we had the luxury of paddling a quiet back channel.  No barges or speeding boats come in here.  It's a beautiful section of the river with limestone cliffs and thick forest.  I can imagine Tarzan and Jane in here.  I saw a green heron land in a tree ahead of me and I stared at it in amazement as I slowly and silently floated by.  He was beautiful.  The lotus were blooming but the water must have gone down because the leaves and flowers were high above the water line.  When I got to the end of the trip I was greeted like an athlete.  A seven piece brass band was playing.  A woman rang a cow bell just for me.  Another woman helped me out.  Two women lifted my kayak and poured several gallons of water out.  One of them took a sponge and wiped some of the mud out.  The volunteers of this event are what makes it great.  They are so appreciative of our efforts and so friendly and so helpful.  The volunteers are why I want to do it again next year. The first thing I did when I got home was put on dry underpants - such a luxury!  (Photo credits to my friend Eleta)

Paddle Paddle Paddle

This weekend I participated in the Mississippi River Challenge – a two day canoe or kayak trip to raise money for the Friends of the Mississippi River. This was my third time in this event.  I had a great time.  Our trip was shortened this year by five miles because the organizers wanted to start on the Minnesota River instead of the Mississippi. With the threat of Asian carp coming up the locks in Minneapolis, we avoided that issue by starting at the Bloomington Ferry site.  I have never been on the Minnesota River before and I enjoyed seeing new sights.  The water on the Minnesota is much muddier than the Mississippi.  All the rest stops had mucky bottoms.  We sunk in the muck past our toes, past our ankles, and sometimes past our knees.  While waiting at the final rest stop, we were floating to avoid walking through the muck.  We had dock side service of fresh water, nectarines and energy bard.  We were caught unaware when a speed boat threw up a big wake.  Water went up over the sides of our kayaks and into the seating area leaving my pants and legs coated with silt and gritty mud.  Even dunking your hand in the water would leave a gritty coating.  The river was pretty though for the most part. We saw quite a few eagles.  Young eagles were sitting in trees crying for food while their parents hunted.   Belted kingfishers swam back and forth.  I saw Canadian geese and tree swallows and a white egret.  The water moved slowly.  Each break seemed farther away than they should have because paddling was a lot of work.  One barge was moving on the river but I handled that okay.  Those barges displace a lot of water and create all kinds of unpredictable waves.  Toward the end of the day we were sent up a side channel.  Right away I noticed we were paddling against the current.  What the heck?  Why are we paddling upstream?  I didn’t know we were paddling around Pike Island.  I also didn’t know that the Mississippi flows into the Minnesota on that side of the island.  Right away paddling was super difficult.  I came to a pedestrian bridge with three sections to go under.  The right section was crowded with trees and branches.  I chose to go under the left section.  As I approached the bridge, the current pushed me to the side so I adapted and aimed for the second section.  Again I was pushed aside. The current was super strong there.  I ended up in the dead tree so I turned around and paddled as hard as I could to get under that bridge.  Wow, that took all the energy I had left.  But I made it. A little danger makes for a good trip.   I was glad to see the end of the trip location just ahead.  I walked up the huge hill to Fort Snelling.  My first stop was the restroom where I could wash the muck off my legs and feet.   We enjoyed some more snacks and a massage while waiting for the luggage trunk to bring us our tents and clothes.  We set up our tent and enjoyed root beer floats, a great dinner and entertainment before turning in for the night.   The Friends of the Mississippi organization really appreciates our efforts and treats us very well.  More tomorrow on day two of the adventure.

Paddle Paddle Paddle

I met my fundraising goal for the Mississippi River Challenge.  Many thanks and much appreciation to Jim, Debbie, Sherri, Trish, Ralph, Carol, Laura, Lisa, Paula, Patty and Renee for your support. 

Chicks Fly

The chicks flew for the first time last night.  As the sun set, they followed their mentor/stepmother Meredith to perch at the top of the chicken coop.  One over-achieving female chick even flew to a lower branch of the basswood tree above the coop before she hopped back down to the roof of the coop.  Meredith always perches on top of the coop at the end of the day and this time the chicks did too.  At first two chicks were up there.  I watched as the other four attempted to join the group.  Several flew to a nearby lawn chair seat first and then flew to the roof.  One flew right from the grass to the roof of the coop and then scrambled up the rest of the way squawking and flapping her wings.  Having six chicks in her life has changed Meredith.  She is not the adventurous, free-wheeling independent chicken she used to be.  Now she is a mother.  Her voice has changed.  She has a huskier and throatier voice now.  Meredith talks to the chicks.  When I open the coop door to let them out, Meredith notices right away and dashes out calling back to the chicks to follow. When I throw fresh dandelion leaves or other treats into the run, she clucks to them so they know to come out and eat.  When it is dark and she is in the coop with four chicks and two haven't gone inside yet, she calls to them to come inside.  She knows the chicks will follow her so she doesn't go as far from the coop anymore.  She doesn't take them to the compost piles or inside the garden.  Meredith's ability to adapt to changes is  probably part of the reason she has lived so long.  She seems to be relishing her new role as foster mom.

Heart of the Matter

Emily Giffin wrote Heart of the Matter, a novel about two women taking turns narrating a chapter at a time.  Tess is married and has two small children.  Valerie is not married and has one child.  Their lives intersect in an unpredictable way.  The story seemed real and moved along at a good pace.  The characters were well developed.  I listened to this book on compact discs and I found the reader, Cynthia Nixon, very distracting.  Every once in a while, she would say something and all I could picture was Miranda from Sex and the City.

Old

You know you're old when you receive change at a diner, see an ancient quarter, look at the year and see it's the year you graduated from high school.

Hey, Hey, My, My Rock and Roll Will Never Die

Last night we went to see "Journeys,"  a film about Neil Young's concert in Canada at the Lagoon Theater.  The film covers his ride from his hometown in Canada to Massey Hall where he performs on stage all alone.  I can't imagine performing alone before a packed music hall but I suppose he is used to that kind of pressure after all his years of performing.  He plays the guitar, harmonica and piano while he sings.  Watching this film gives us a front row seat to his performance.  Sometimes we get a better than front row seat.  A camera was attached to his microphone and we got up close and personal views of his mouth, chin, face, and white hat.  I prefer to view him from more of a distance because once spittle flew from his mouth to the camera lens and we had to watch him with a blurry mark - how gross was that?  He sang some new songs and some favorites of mine.  His rendition of "Ohio" was especially good considering he was up there all alone and creating all kinds of energy.  Neil Young is a great performer.  My, my, hey, hey, rock and roll is here to stay!

Silent Words

Joan Drury wrote Silent Words, a story set on the north shore of Lake Superior.  I enjoyed the easy reading and the description of places that I knew on the north shore.  This is the third in a trilogy involving Tyler Jones, a lesbian feminist who seems to find dead bodies quite frequently.  The story was good enough to keep my attention but not well written enough for me to recommend to you. 

Round Lake Again

This morning I met a friend at Round Lake at 7:30 and we set off for an early morning paddle.  The wind was still and the lake was like glass.  We moved among the bulrushes and over the lily pads. Three loons, one of which was a youngster, followed us as we paddled counter clockwise.  Fresh air, dragonflies, loons, being out on the water, girl talk - what better way to start a Sunday?

Lake Owasso

Last night I paddled almost completely around Lake Owasso.  Although I spent countless hours at this lake, I think this is the first time I've been in a boat.  As a child we would come to this beach to go swimming several times a week.  During the day, we biked here after lunch.  Mom would say we had to wait an hour to swim after biking otherwise we'd get a cramp and drown.  Even though she was a couple miles away, for some strange reason, I always waited an hour.  I sat in the hot sun for an hour after biking before swimming.  Those are hours spent that I'll never get back.  Last night I took off from the northern shore and paddled south towards County Road C.  There is some big money on this lake.  The lake homes were huge and beautiful and well kept.  A couple boats pulled tubes with kids riding and created waves for my boat.  A sail boat swept by in silence.  A loon with a baby were swimming nearby.  I gave them a wide berth.  As I drew across from them the parent loon tremolo about five times before diving.  The baby dived with the parent.  A minute later the loon tremolo again directly behind my kayak making me jump. Silly loon.  The lake is fairly shallow except for a trench on the west side.  I was surprised how large the lake is.  From the beach where we always swam you can't see how large it is because it bends and twists so much.  I saw at least 5 houses with for sale signs and one empty lot with a for sale sign.  I think it would be very nice to live on Lake Owasso.  Out of my price range but very nice.

How I feel about that first tomato from the garden?

Enjoy, delight, relish, savor, devour, prize, appreciate, drool over, indulge, eat, treasure.  Sooooooooooo gooooooooooooooooood!

Second Nature

Jacquelyn Mitchard wrote Second Nature.  Some of the characters from her previous books, Deep End of the Ocean and No Time to Wave Goodbye,  specifically the Cappadora family, are also in this story.  Mitchard grew up in Chicago and that is where this story is placed.  As a child, she heard about a terrible fire at a Catholic school that killed some students and a firefighter.  The author took that incident and created a novel. Sicily is the main character and her father is the fire fighter who was killed.  Sicily's face is burned so badly that she has trouble breathing and eating until, in her mid-twenties, she has a face transplant.  Sicily is an interesting character.  The burns she sustained in the fire scarred her face and stunted her emotional growth.  Until she had a face transplant, she never drove a car, never really enjoyed the taste of food, never dealt with men who found her attractive, and never considered living independently.  She deals with some of these new issues with the emotional intelligence of a ten year old.  I'd recommend this book - easy reading for the middle of summer. 

Bluebird of Happiness

On my way to the mailbox I saw a female bluebird leave my newest bluebird house and fly to the nearest oak tree (the one with the swing).  From inside the bluebird house I could hear the peeping of baby bluebirds.  Here it is, mid-July, and baby bluebirds are crying for more bugs to eat.  I would guess that this is this couple's second or third batch of offspring.  I think it is an honor that this bluebird couple chose my yard as home.

The Beginner's Goodbye

When I go to the library to look for books, I usually look in the T section to see if Anne Tyler has written anything new.  Lucky for me, I found one.  The Beginner's Goodbye by Anne Tyler was a very pleasurable book to read.  I love the way Tyler describes people, their relationships, and the towns they live in.  Often her characters are flawed and quirky yet I want to know them better.  I'd like to have Anne Tyler characters among my friends, they're that real.  The narrator in this one is Aaron Woolcott who works in a self-publishing company.  His customers have their memoirs printed and bound.  They have a series of "Beginner's" books, sort of like "The Idiot's Guide" series.  Woolcott's company has published the Beginners Guide to Divorce, Beginners Guide to Child Rearing, Beginners Guide to Marriage, Beginners Guide to College, Beginners Guide to Refurbishing a Kitchen, and Beginners Guide to Buying a House.  Woolcott is an ornery man and very sensitive to being helped.  He absolutely bristles when anyone tries to accommodate his limp or his less than fully functional right side of his body.  He is blunt, unsentimental, and somewhat lacking in social skills. His wife is also blunt, unsentimental and somewhat lacking in social skills and despite a 15 inch difference in height, are the perfect couple.  When she dies, Aaron learns how to say goodbye and being the quirky guy that he is, his mourning process is not typical.  Great book!

Freedom for Chicks

I allowed the chicks to leave the chicken coop and run for the first time on Saturday.  I opened the door.  Meredith left immediately to take her dust bath.  The leader of the other chicks out the door was Howard (the one I think is a rooster).  He took about 5 minutes to exit the coop's open door.  Four others followed him.  One chick who wasn't paying attention didn't notice they had left until she saw them outside the run.  She ran back and forth, trying to get close to her buddies but unable to figure a way out.  Her friends stayed close to her, sometimes running back and forth with her.  I watched her struggle for five minutes and I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed her and set her free.  The chicks stayed pretty close to the coop.  I don't think they wandered more than 8 feet away from home.  Once Meredith noticed they were out, she was a good mother hen and stuck close by. They ate clover blossoms and spiders and anything else they could find.  I knew it would be hard to get them back into the coop at the end of the day.  Meredith tried to be a good role model and went to bed inside the coop early.  None of the chicks followed her.  I cajoled 5 chicks into the coop with dandelion leaves.  As I tried to get the last one in another one escaped.  Now two were out.  I went back into the house and tried again a half hour later.  The darker the sky, the less willful the chickens are.  A half hour later, one of the chicks went in happily.  The other one would not cooperate.  After 10 unsuccessful tries, I finally grabbed her and put her away.  The first day of freedom was a success.

Dragonflies and Damselflies

On Saturday I went to a dragonfly and damselfly identification class.  We enjoyed a PowerPoint presentation on these flying insects and then we went out into Carlos Avery Wildlife Area to catch them and try to identify them.  I leaned quite a bit about these creatures who can only fly when the sun is shining and the temperature is above 77 degrees.  Dragonflies are fair weather friends!  Their wings are attached by muscles along their thorax so they can use each of their four wings independently.  They can fly up, down, upside-down, forwards and even backwards.  They are the fighter pilots of the insect world. They can't smell or hear but they can see very well.  And they are very difficult to catch in a net.  I did manage to catch one dragonfly - a female widow skimmer.  Our group caught a half dozen species in this field.  We saw male dragonflies defending their territory and chasing other males out of their section of this field.  With the heat the the biting deer flies, about an hour was enough time to spend in the field.  I was glad to have this chance to learn more about nature and spend time with other tree huggers like me. 

Message From Above

On Friday I went swimming after work as usual.  I had just finished a half mile plus two laps when I saw a hand waving above my head when I got to the end of the lane.  I looked up.  A club employee said, "I have to ask you to get out of the pool because of the lightening strikes."  "You do?" I replied with a rising inflection as if he had asked, "I just found a wad of money and my manger said I had to share it with everyone in the room so I am going to have to give you this $100 bill."  When lightening strikes, it is time to stop exercising - it's like a message from the woman upstairs.

Fiddler On The Roof

My nephew's performance in Fiddler on the Roof was stellar.  I wish I had the talent to dance and sing and run on stage - all at the same time.  I think it would be so much fun to be a part of a musical performance like that.  I sure admire his courage and dedication.  What a great evening.

Whoops

Miracle of Miracles

Tonight I am going to see a local production of Fiddler on the Roof in which a certain nephew of mine plays the tailor, Motel Kumzoil.  This song has been running through my head all day.  I am so excited!  The play will be performed at the Como Pavilion in St. Paul.  A hot summer night, music, family, performance - nothing could be better!

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

My book club read a non-fiction book this time, the Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot.  According to the research found by our discussion leader, Skloot is not your typical writer.  Unable to succeed in high school because of her blatant dislike of the traditional education methods, she thrived in alternative high school where she could pursue her passions.  One of her passions was lit when a biology teacher told her that the HeLa cells in most labs were from a woman named Henrietta Lacks.  Skloot had an unusual biology teacher because most people thought the cell donor was Helen Lane.  Lack's physician, wanting to keep the Lacks family from knowing the whole story, told everyone it was Helen Lane.  After he died, the real story came out.  Henrietta, a poor black patient at John's Hopkins hospital, died in the 1950's from a virulent form of cervical cancer.  She died a painful death.  Her cancerous cells lived on and are still living today.   The combined weight of her cancer cells are more than what Henrietta ever weighed in her life.  There is something very unusual in Henrietta's cancer cells.  They keep dividing and dividing.  Other cells die after dividing three times but not hers.  They're still dividing today and be found in virtually every lab in the country.  Other cells need the right conditions to thrive.  Henrietta's cells can divide even while being mailed across the country.  Henrietta's cancerous cells are so unusual they almost sound like science fiction.  Rebecca tells about Henrietta's life.  She grew up poor, deprived,  uneducated, molested, violated and abused.  Just like her cancer cells, Henrietta persevered. She was a good mother.  She strives for a better life for her children.  This was not an easy book to read. What she went though and what her children went through is terrible.  Her children and grandchildren are asking, "Why were Henrietta's cells taken without her consent and without her knowledge?"  "Why are some medical supply companies rich from the profit of selling Henrietta's cancer cells while the Lacks family cannot afford to go to a doctor?"  "Why doesn't the medical community acknowledge the contributions Henrietta made to science?"  I think it's great that Rebecca Skloot put the Lack's family questions into a book. She has also started a foundation so that Henrietta's children, grandchildren, and future great grandchildren can have some financial assistance with medical bills or college education.  We had a great discussion about the book.  A couple book club members are in the medical profession so it helps to have their insight.  This was one of the better non fiction books that I have read for a while.

Week Seven Chicks

Week One

Week Seven



Meredith is on the right.  You can see her green legs but not her head.  The buff Opringtons have flesh colored legs.

The chicks at week seven are not so easy to photograph next to a pop can.  In the second picture is the chicken that I believe is a rooster.  Tentatively his name is Howard.  His comb is much more developed than the other five hens.  He is probably doomed because I'm not keeping any roosters.  Chicken BBQ anyone?

Minnesota History Center Exhibit on Dakota Uprising of 1862

Just for a moment, think of the most terrible things happening in our world.  What comes to mind?  Murder, rape, death, broken promises, war, ethnic cleansing, corruption, greed, and mass execution?  Imagine that all these things happened in your locality and all at the same time.  Unimaginable, right?  All these things did happen and right here in Minnesota.  Sad but true.  These are facts I never learned in my Minnesota history classes.  It's time this event came out from under the rug.  You can learn all about it at the Minnesota History Center exhibit on the Dakota Uprising on 1862.  This drawing above shows 38 Indians being hung for war crimes.  Several were innocent.  One ax blow cut the rope that hung all 38 men simultaneously - the largest mass execution in our United States.  The bodies were buried in shallow graves next to the Minnesota River only to be dug up that night by physicians who wanted the bodies for medical research.  I think every Minnesotan should see this exhibit.  If you go, and I think you should, plan something cheerful later because you will likely walk out of there quite sad.

Kayaking on Saturday

On Saturday afternoon I spent a couple hours kayaking on the Rum River.  I put in at Brookview Park in Ramsey and kayaked upstream as far as the Seventh Avenue bridge.  We had more rain so paddling upstream was a little difficult.  I saw at least 20 cedar waxwings catching bugs above the river.  I saw about 8 belted kingfishers flying from branch to branch on the shore.  I also saw some robins, a pair of orioles, and several blue jays.  A big group barn swallows were nesting under the Seventh Street bridge.  Going upstream I passed two groups of people floating downstream on inner tubes and inflatable mattresses.  The second group consisted of about 10 loud and drinking women on inner tubes holding onto a canoe with two guys in it.  Coming back down, I passed the second group again but now they were on shore and agitated and yelling.  A couple of the women were walking in the river.  The current took me by fast but as I went by I could hear one say, "I couldn't grab the paddle."  I was already past them before I realized the canoe had tipped.  I grabbed the paddle, a tackle box and 3 individual packages of tackle and brought it back to them.  I wish people would be more careful on the water.  Too many people have drowned already this year.  My life preserver is hot and it makes me sweat and sometimes it gets uncomfortable but I'm not taking it off.  A little discomfort is worth the safety the life preserver provides.

Frog and Toad Survey #3

Friday night was our final frog and toad survey for this year.  Three of us stopped for dinner in Milaca before heading out to Kroschel to complete our route.  Our survey involves stopping 10 times and listening for frogs for 5 minutes.  I think this is the third year we've completed the route.  That makes a total of 9 times we've stood at the same place and listened for 5 minutes.  You get to know that area of swamp, wetland, sedge pond or pasture quite well when you spend so much time out there.  Surprisingly, this time we heard the fewest number of frogs of the 9 times we've been out there.  We heard frogs at 4 of the stops.  At six places, no frogs were croaking.  We heard gray tree frogs and green frogs.  The green frogs were really singing at White Lily Lake.  But in general, the frogs were very quiet.  Maybe the heat of the last week dampened their sex drive.  A cold front had gone through this evening and the temperature was a cool 68 degrees when we were out there.  A fairly strong wind was blowing.  The wind made it hard to hear everything. Some spots were less windy but the mosquitoes whining in our ears also made it hard to hear so we preferred the wind.  At one particularly remote spot at a culvert where the ponds on both sides of the road are almost as high as the road, we had an incredible amount of traffic.  A pick up truck had been following us slowly, stopping at times, and generally creeping us out.  When we stopped at the culvert, the pick up truck also stopped to ask if we needed help.  They stayed to talk. They claimed to be surveying the deer population.  Another car came up and one of their friends got out to talk and let his dog out who was prancing around and barking.  Seriously?  We're trying to listen to frogs here.  We heard veerys and red winged blackbirds but no frogs.  We did seem a couple deer, several cats, two turkey vultures, a hawk and some lightning bugs.  It was a great evening to be outside, standing in the dark, listening to the sounds of nature with a couple other tree huggers.

Outfoxed the Deer So Far

I hope I don't jinx it by saying so but I think I have outfoxed the deer this year.  They haven't been going in my garden as often this summer.  I believe the secret is I suspended the deer fence above the crops the deer most like to eat - my sunflowers.  My scarecrow didn't work.  Suspended length of shiny tape didn't work.  Blood meal didn't work.  Deer fence laid across the plants didn't work.  Suspended deer fence?  Working so far.  I suppose they don't want to get tangled in that netting.  How nice, for once, if I can bring my sunflowers to bloom instead of having the tops bitten off leaving me with a disappointing row of sticks. 

Thick Tongued

If you call me on the phone or come to visit and I sound a little thick tongued, it is because in this heat, I've been enjoying Popsicle Brand sugar free popsicles. They really help me beat the heat.  They come in orange, cherry and grape (which is also my order of preference).  Popsicles are to summer as hot cocoa is to winter = pure enjoyment.

Watery Treadmill

This weekend I took my new kayak out.  Why?  For exercise, building up my muscles and tough hands for the Mississippi Challenge at the end of this month, and to enjoy being on the water.  On Saturday night I tried navigating the Rum River.  I have only been on lakes so far this year. I put in at a riverside  park in Andover that is just a little bit north of where I live.  I thought they had a boat access there.  They have a paved path down to the river but you can't drive down it.  A post blocks the way.  Why have a paved path down to the river if you can't drive on it?  Is someone supposed to bike across?  I pulled my kayak through the grass down to the river.  Because the water was high, there is no sandy shore there anymore, only a high grassy bank.  I set the kayak down in the water and stepped down from the high grassy bank.  Getting in on a sandy shore is much easier.  As I sat down in the kayak I realized that it would be much more difficult getting out than getting in.  Seconds after that thought I realized I had forgotten my life preserver in the car.  Rats. I paddled away anyway.  I headed upriver first  I want the hard work of padding against the current over with because I would be up a crick if the water was flowing faster than I could paddle.  I didn't put get out on the river until 8 so I knew I should start heading back by 9 or sooner.  As I paddled upstream, I saw lots of cedar waxwings. A belted kingfisher played hide and seek with me.  I paddled as far as the confluence of Trott Brook and then coasted back to the park.  What a beautiful night.  I feel truly relaxed when I am on the water watching the scenery.  I found a shallow part of river just a few feet from where I put in.  I stopped on the shallow part and got out of the kayak.  My foot sank in river mud halfway up my calf.  Ewwww.  I pulled my foot out of the sucking muck and as I walked, I could see frogs and other critters burrowing out of the river mud trying to escape me.  That was too gross.  I couldn't watch.  I didn't want to know what I was stepping on.  On Sunday I got even braver.  This time I put it at the Rum River in Anoka and I remember the life preserver.  I paddled the short distance downstream and by Park Point, where the Mississippi meets the Rum, I paddled up the Mississippi.  This was not the quiet, relaxing trip like Saturday night.  This trip had jet skis, jet boats, and pontoons.  I passed a family who was fishing and having a picnic at Park Point.  As I paddled upstream, I noticed right away that the water flow was fast.  One section of the river was full of waves.  Maybe the waves were bouncing off the Highway 169 bridge and ricocheting here. I didn't know why the water was so rough there but I struggled past it.  The sun was behind the clouds but I was really hot.  I noticed I still wasn't past the park yet.  The dock that the park usually has out was not set up.  High water levels had made it almost impossible for river docks this year.  I kept paddling.  By looking ahead to the bridge, I thought I was making progress.  Then I glanced to the side and saw I was still by the park - I hadn't moved at all.  So I paddled harder.  I pushed vigorously on each side while stepping off my foot rests to give added umph to each stroke.  I did this for another five minutes, certain I was closer to the bridge.  I looked to the side and I was still at nearly the same place!  I couldn't believe I hadn't moved farther upstream. What is this?  Some kind of watery treadmill?  I set off again. Within minutes my face was drenched with sweat from the effort.  I am still at the same place.  And if I stopped to wipe the sweat off my face with my shirt, I would surely loose quite a bit of ground.  Extreme effort+no progress=no fun.  Using my paddle as a rudder I quickly turned around and in about one minute I was back into the Rum.  I passed the fishing family again.  They had been watching me struggle against the current.  I told them I would try again when the water level went down.  They suggested I try a lake.  Since I couldn't progress on the Mississippi and I wasn't ready to get out yet, I kayaked up the Rum. I saw one set of goose parents with 20 goslings.  Was this a goosey day care or can one couple lay that many eggs? I went under the pedestrian bridge where I remember spending a full morning watching turtles with Offspring #1 in the spring of 1989.  I had to go to the nearby clinic that day for a pregnancy glucose test.  Every hour, for about 4 hours, I had to drink some nasty sweet stuff and have blood drawn.  Since we didn't have time to go home, Offspring #1 and I spent the hours inbetween blood draws on the bridge watching turtles.  I continued paddling until I went under the Main Street bridge.  I saw the swallow's mud nests attached to the bridge deck.  I paddled near the dam before turning the kayak around and floating back to the boat access.  I was determined to make this trip last and not hurry.  I have gotten more than my money's worth of enjoyment out of that kayak purchase already.

Growing Chicks

The chicks are growing fast. Although the little ones act fearful of Meredith, I have not seen her try to hurt them.  I believe they are eating her food and she is eating their food.  Growing chicks and laying hens eat different kind of chicken food.  I had a small container of growing food available at a lower level for the chicks and a hanging container of laying food at a higher level but the laying food is going so fast I know it's not just Meredith eating all that.  I let Meredith out of the coop to take her dust baths and get a break from her companions but today she jumped back into the coop before I wanted her too so I guess that action indicates she doesn't mind them as much as I thought she would.  One of the chicks has a comb that is larger than the other five.  Does this mean this chick is a rooster?.

Week One

Week Six Chicks - Much bigger than a pop can!