Baby & Me

FOY Bluebird

Today I was busy boiling the last of my maple sap into syrup when I glanced out the kitchen window to see my first of the year bluebird. He was perched ever so elegantly on the septic pipe only six feet from the bluebird house.  I hope he likes this location.  I'd rather have bluebirds use the nest than tree wrens like I had last year.  Welcome back bluebirds.  You were missed.

Get A Kick

I get a kick out of some of the little things in life.  Things like going to sleep on clean sheets after taking a shower, smelling cut grass or sailing through a series of green traffic lights give me a kick.  I have a new kick.  This one is regarding laundry which is good because laundry is not my favorite chore.  My laundry room is in the lower half level of my house.  The window, which is waist high to me, looks out only a few inches from ground level.  Sometimes, like today for example,  the chickens are giving themselves dust baths right out side the window and directly under the dryer vent.  Watching the chicken startle when the dryer comes on gives me a kick.  They're hysterical.

Those Tiny Chairs

Last night I took a community education class on "Building a Deck."  With nine other students (all guys) we sat in tiny chairs for 2.5 hours talking about joists, cantilevers, building codes,  and stringers.  The instructor was an experienced carpenter and some of what he said was over my head.  But that was fine because I didn't need to know everything about building decks.  The green treated wooden structure under my deck is fine, I only need to put new decking and rails on top.  At 9 o'clock all the students tried to stand up after sitting so long. We all limped for the first few steps.  Like one guy said, "I need a claw hammer to get the underwear out of my butt."



Turkey Vultures

I saw the two turkey vultures sitting in a tree. K. I. S. S. I. N. G.  No, I didn't actually see them kissing but they're sitting together very friendly like in the same tree they used last year in front of a house up the block from me.  Is this a sign of breeding activity?  If only I could see them carrying nesting material then I could count it on the breeding bird atlas.  I don't think they build big nests.  Usually vultures will sweep off a patch of dirt near a cliff or use an old barn or shed to lay their eggs.  The fact that they don't build fancy nests makes it harder to document breeding. I would really, really like to add them to the list of birds breeding in my priority block.

Is It Wrong That I Love To Eat These?

Bonk

Yes.  It is true.  I read a book about sex.  The name of it is Bonk:  The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex by Mary Roach.  I read this book because a friend told me about two other books by Mary Roach that sounded interesting.  I requested them at the library and saw this one so I requested it too and this is the first one I got.  Mary Roach is known as a funny science writer.  I love learning about science and if it can be funny too, well, what is the harm in that?  I learned a lot in this book but it wasn't pornography.  I don't want to go into detail about what I learned because my website would get all kinds of extra traffic, if you know what I mean, but let it suffice to say I learned and I laughed.  I also had some very strange dreams during the time I read this so maybe it's a good thing I'm returning it to the library tomorrow.  Good read!

This Is How You Lose Her

This Is How You Lose Her is a book written by Junot Diaz.  It is a collection of short stories detailing the life of Yunior, an immigrant from the Dominican Republic growing up in New Jersey.  The stories start when he is younger and end up with the adult Yunior.  The stories are rugged, hard, edgy and sometimes hilarious.  Yunior, like his father, is a womanizer.  As he treats the women in his life, he in turn is treated by them.  The words he uses are raw, honest, and sometimes profane.  Yunior is a character that I liked, wanted to protect, disliked, and admired.  This is a good read.

Snow Fabric?

I don't want to say the snow is pretty because I really don't like snow anymore.  I don't care if snow thickens each branch by 3 or 4 extra inches.  I don't care if it looks like a fairyland outside.  Enough is enough.  Too much of a good thing can turn into a bad thing.  In any case I noticed something new about the snow.  It was falling so thickly and with so much moisture that it fused together.  As I took a scoop with a shovel I would pick up a chunk of snow with dimensions larger than the shovel, comparable to picking up a fork full of hay with a pitchfork only snow is heavier and colder and white.   Shoveling a path for my small car to the street didn't take long because each shovel load took big bites.  On my yard swing the snow coalesced together into a blanket like formation.  As it got heavier gravity pulled the blanket of snow down forming a drapery like swoop on the swing.  Interesting what snow can do.

Trampled by Turtles

Last night Offspring #2 and I went to see Trampled by Turtles at First Avenue.  Unfortunately they didn't start playing until 10:15.  From 7 until then we waited and listened to two warm up acts.  The first act was almost painful to listen to.  Most of the music was prerecorded and some of it was live electric organ and electric drums with some vocals.  The second act was better especially when they played someone else's music.  When they played original music they faltered but at least they looked at and interacted with the audience unlike the first act.  By 10:15 I was getting tired.  I'm usually asleep by this time.  Add to that the fact that we are all standing.  Maybe 30 or 35 people have chairs at this venue but the rest of us are standing.  Hours of standing is not easy on my aching back.  Lucky for me I had a railing to lean on.  When Trampled by Turtles came on the stage the audience stopped talking and started listening.  People were dancing.  Balloons and inflatable balls bounced across the crowd.  Marijuana fumes floated through the air.  A trio of older white haired men, standing right next to us, lit up a doobie and shared it (but not with us).  It was quite a crowd of hipsters.  Hipsters, according to Offspring #2, wear blue jeans rolled up at the cuff, plaid flannel shirts, hiking boots, and bushy beards.  She pointed at that moment of definition and we looked at a group of 5 men descending the stairs all wearing blue jeans, flannel shirts, hiking boots and bushy beards.  Trampled by Turtles has a couple guitars, a mandolin, a violin, a cello and a banjo.  They make great music; reminding me of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.  As much as I liked their music, after almost 5 hours of standing my back overruled my music appreciation and we had to leave early; if you call 11:45 pm early.  I'm glad I went.  Note to self:  If going to a Trampled by Turtles concert again wait for a weekend and make sure chairs are available.

Seriously?

Really?  Today?  Just 2 months away from the longest day of the year and the slow slide back into winter it has to know 8 freaking inches between noon and 5 pm?  Criminetly!  I filled up all the bird feeders.  The birds looked frantic.  Some were pecking on the side of my house in what must be utter despair.  I can't ignore 8 inches of snow.  I am going to have to shovel.  Lets hope that makes up for skipping the gym to get home.  I can not believe this.



First Avenue

After much indecision about what to do tonight (the curse of having two great options), I  have decided to go to First Avenue.  First Avenue, the former musical home of the rock god and my favorite, Prince, is located on First Avenue in Minneapolis.  I've been there before.  The last and only time I've been to this building was a long time ago.  How long ago you ask?  It was so long ago it wasn't called First Avenue. It was called Sam's or possibly Uncle Sam's. I believe I was there in the late 1970's or early 80's.  I can't remember who I saw perform but I do remember having a good time and buying a souvenir drink in a long red glass that said "firecracker" on it.  It's been a long time since I drank rum, sloe gin and orange juice.  I'm not having any firecrackers tonight but I expect I will be having a good time.

Sowing Winter Wheat

A friend of mine bought a packet of winter wheat seeds at Bachman's. She threw some into a pot of soil and now has a healthy crop of bright green grass.  Her wheat is so high she trimmed it with a scissors.  She said it smells and looks wonderful.  I thought it sounded wonderful too so she brought me some.  Tonight I planted my winter wheat.  I'm looking forward to harvest time.

Hungry Birds

Yesterday I spent the day inside boiling sap into maple syrup. I started the kettle about 10 a.m. and finished at 8:30 p.m.  I got about 3 cups of syrup and a very humid house.  While I worked around the house I noticed the birds in my back yard.  I had a red tailed hawk, a flicker, hairy woodpeckers, downy woodpeckers, pileated woodpeckers, goldfinches, a flock of robins, common redpolls, mourning doves,blue jays, cardinals, white breasted nuthatches, and juncos.  The juncos seemed especially antsy and hungry.  For the first time ever I saw the juncos on a bird feeder.  They clung to the side of the peanut feeder.  Snow covered the ground so the poor ground feeders had no place to look for food.  I leave my left over canary food on the deck railing and the juncos ate all of that.  I imagine they are getting ready for the long flight north to the tundra where they will mate and raise their young so they really need to bulk up now.  I enjoy watching the birds but looking out the window yesterday was agitating.  I am so tired of snow flakes falling I could scream.  I asked a winter loving, cross country skiing friend of mine what she thought of the snow.  She is sick of winter too.  Somehow that makes me feel better.

Death of a Salesman

A group of us went to see Death of a Salesman at the Lyric Arts theater in Anoka on Saturday night after dinner at Billy's.  The play was very dramatic and moving and I think the production was well done.  The ending made a huge impact.  The salesman, Willy Lomam is quite a sad sack.  He nurses old resentments, he judges others harshly, and he drives himself crazy with his negative inner (and sometimes out loud) monologue.  Willy is very seldom living in the moment.  He has unrealistic high hopes for the future.  He thinks back to events in the past and he has imaginary conversations with his brother.  Willy's wife, Linda, is passive and supportive yet she knows what is really going on.  Linda reminded me a tiny bit of Edith Bunker. Willy's two boys, Biff and Happy cannot measure up to their father's unrealistic expectations.  We enjoyed the play. I think if I had known the weather would continue to be so miserable when I arranged it, I for sure would have chosen something more light hearted.

Brussel Sprouts

Today I went to the gardening fair put on by the Master Gardeners at Bunker Hills Activity Center.  For registering and coming we each got a free hyacinth in a little pot, blue or pink.  I chose blue and held it close to me all morning.  I love the smell of hyacinths.  Our first speaker was Dr. Vince Fritz from the University of Minnesota.  He said the U of M is a unique place because it has both an agricultural and a medical department.  They are studying nutragenomics, nutracuticals and phytonutrients.  Some of this stuff was over my head but basically they're studying the ways plants can ward off cancer (chemopreventatives). They studied cabbage for example.  When cabbage is stressed (by a worm, a virus, growing too close together, or not getting enough water) the plant increases a chemical.  This chemical was fed to mice who had been exposed to nicotine.  Most of the mice had cancer tumors in the lung.  The mice who were fed the cabbage with the most of that chemical got fewer tumors than all the other mice including the mice who ate cabbage that was not stressed.  Red cabbage had more than twice that cancer preventing chemical than green cabbage.  The vegetable with the most chemopreventative chemicals, even more than red cabbage and broccoli, was brussel sprouts.  Hence the name of his talk, "Take Two Brussel Sprouts and Call Me In The Morning."  My next class was building a terrarium.  We each got a big glass covered container, pea gravel, charcoal. sphagnum moss, soil, 3 plants of varying height, and a variety of other items to catch the eye such as marbles, moss, larger rocks or more gravel.  Mine turned out really well.  Our last session was on growing perennials in a cold climate and that about put me to sleep.  As I was checking out the displays and vendors a woman said, "Hello there Sue."  The way she pronounced my name!  This was my lispy friend and water aerobics instructor from about 20 years ago.  I was super excited to see her.  She pronounces my name in a special way that makes it sound more interesting.  We had a great time catching up.  I told her that certain songs bring me back to the pool and my body starts moving in time to the music involuntarily.  I really like it when I meet people from my past and we're immediately on the same friendly footing that we were a long time ago.  I had a great morning at the gardening fair.  Afterwards I worked out at the club, stopped to buy groceries, bought a bag of brussel sprouts and ate 3 on the ride home.  (They're not that good raw). 

Summerland

Elin Hilderbrand wrote Summerland, a novel about the lives of people who live on Nantucket Island.  A car accident ends the life of a promising high school student.  Her brother is hurt badly and the other two passengers are physically fine but emotionally ruined.  The story proceeds to detail how people cope or do not cope with the tragedy.  The writing is light - almost chick-lit.  I listened to it on compact disc and it helped me pass the time as I drove back on forth on Highway 10 to work.  The best part is the book distracted me from the terribly long winter we're having so I have to give it credit for that.  I wouldn't go so far as to say this was a good book though.

Sophie's Choice

My book club read Sophie's Choice by William Styron this month.  It's a sad and depressing book.  Sophie's choice, in case you don't know, is a forced decision where all options are equally undesirable.  The first couple chapters are misleading because they're funny.  Several paragraphs are enough to make a reader laugh out loud.  The narrator, a young man nick-named Stingo is based on the author.  Stingo worked at a publishing house where he wrote quite funny rejection letters to authors.  Eventually he gets fired from his job because he doesn't wear a hat and he doesn't read the correct newspaper.   Sounds unbelievable?  Same thing happened to Styron. Truth is stranger than fiction.  Stingo meets two people at his boarding house, Sophie and Nathan.  Nathan is a person with paranoid schizophrenia and addiction issues.  Sophie is a woman from Poland who, although not Jewish, spent time in Auschwitz.  Both of these people have issues as Stingo learns early on.  As I read the story I mentally told Stingo, "Open your eyes!  Run for the hills!  Sophie and Nathan will bring you nothing but trouble."  Sophie and Nathan are chronic liars.  Most people in the book club believed that Sophie's latest version of the truth is the true truth.  I and one other person was not so sure about that.  So, like I said, this book about the Holocaust, mental illness, liars and addicts was not a "feel good" book in the least.  Interesting?  Yes.  Well written?  Yes. Best seller and award winning book?  Yes.  Just don't read too many sad ones in a row. 

Out Of The Comfort Zone

Today I did something outside of my comfort zone.  I've been stressing out about it for weeks.  I did it though and it went well and now it's over.  What I had to do may not seem like such a big thing to you but don't judge me.  Everyone has their own fears.  Prequel to the story:  About 20 years ago I was asked to do a favor for a family member. She wanted me to give her an injection.  Every month she got an injection of iron and she did it at home.  Her husband had just died and he used to do this for her.  She asked me to help her out. I said no.  I don't know how to give injections.  She would not listen to me.  I suggested she go to the clinic.  She claimed the clinic would not do it.  I still said no.  She wouldn't listen.  She said I was a nurse.  I said, "As convenient as that would be, no, I am not a nurse.  I do not know how to give shots and I do not want to do this."  She insisted.  She said it didn't hurt, it was easy, I didn't need training.  The fact that she was a new widow got to me.  Even though I still said no she came over with the medicine and the syringe.  Other relatives were there but she focused on me giving her the shot.  I felt cornered.  She didn't even know how to draw up the shot.  The bottle did not give clear instructions.  I should have stopped there but I didn't.  I called my Mom who figured it out for me over the phone.  I was scared to give a shot.  Pushing a needle into the skin creeped me out. She wanted it in the back of the arm; anywhere was fine.  I said again, "I really don't want to do this."  I was breathing heavily when I stuck the needle into her arm.  I freaked out.  I dropped the needle.  The syringe hung out of the back of her arm like a flag without wind. By now I am pretty sure she was thinking she should have gone to the clinic.  I moaned aloud and made panicked eyes at the other relatives who were in the room.  They silently looked away and walked out of the room.  Disappointed by the relatives I forced myself to get a grip.  I depressed the plunger and pulled the needle out of her arm.  I set the needle down on the table and left the room to go into the bathroom and compose myself.  This relative learned her lesson and never asked me again to give her an injection.  She got them done at the clinic instead.  Back to today:  I helped someone test her blood sugar before lunch and receive insulin.  My biggest fears were hurting her and not knowing what I was doing.  I was told it didn't hurt so logically that fear should have been erased.  In my heart it was still there though.  And I had a registered nurse at my side guiding me through every step.  Again, logically the fear of not knowing what I was doing should have been erased.  But it lingered in my head.  I did find that once I got into the process of the steps I focused more on that than my fears.  And I am pretty sure that the first time will be the worst.  Doing it again should be easier.  If I can do things outside of my comfort zone, my comfort zone will enlarge.  A larger comfort zone would be nice.  The person I helped was cool about it and everything went fine.  She is a great lady and I like her a lot.  She motivated me to move outside my comfort zone.   

Tap That Sap

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Look at the difference between the sap from my western maple tree on the right and the eastern maple tree on the left.  The east tree sap is almost as clear as water and the other tree sap looks like apple juice.  I'm curious if one has a different sugar content than the other one.  Back in the early 1970's I worked with senior citizens in a nursing home.  One of my duties was to check the sugar content in urine samples of several people with diabetes.  I would dip a test strip into the urine sample and record the results.  If the strip turned orange, that was labelled +4 and that was not a good result.  That meant lots of sugar was thrown into the urine.  Green wasn't as bad and depending on the color it could be +3 or +2.  Blue was the best result and that meant no sugar in the urine.  Now they don't use those test strips anymore.  People have glucometers and test the sugar in the blood, not the urine.  I wish I had one of those test strips now.  I would dip it into the sap and see which one was sweeter.  Both are sticky with sweetness but neither one tastes very sweet.  I guess there is one advantage to having a slow start to spring and that is getting more sap.  Last year spring was so short that the sap was unusable.  The trees budded right away in 2012.  This year I am collecting quite a bit of sap.  The top shelf of my refrigerator is almost full of sap containers.  I had better set aside some time on Sunday to stay home and boil it down into syrup. 

Dark Night on a Gravel Road

Last night we completed our owl survey that we do every year as part of a project sponsored by Hawk Ridge in Duluth. It's called the Western Great lakes Owl Survey.  Two siblings, a friend, and I headed out to our route near Pierz and Freedham, MN.  We actually made it to Freedham which is a very small town.  We got frustrated because our map is woefully inadequate.  The roads are not marked correctly if at all on the map.  I'm sure we were in the right general vicinity.  After scouting the roads we stopped for dinner at "The Bank" in Pierz.  For a small town this restaurant had an amazing variety of food to offer.  The food was good and reasonable in price.  By 8:15 we were at the first of our ten owl stops.  We stood outside and listened.  The sky was 100% covered with clouds and we were glad it wasn't raining.  The wind was cool and gusty and the temperature was 39 degrees.  We heard one or two great horned owls at our third stop.  We heard a couple owls at our fourth stop too and it was hard to tell if they were the same owls we heard at the previous stop.  One sounded a lot closer but it may have flown our way as we drove.  The wind died down a little.  We stood on dirt roads in silence listening.  We could hear dogs barking.  Some hounds howl in a way that resembles owls.  We heard cows mooing and even though they make an ooo sound, we can tell them apart from owls.  We could hear trains in the distance - probably along the tracks near Highway 10 in Little Falls.  We might have heard coyotes.  We didn't hear any insects although we did see one hardy moth fly by the headlights.  At stop eight we heard sand hill cranes talking with some Canadian geese and Trumpeter swans.  At stop 9 we heard Trumpeter swans in the distance.  We stood in the dark and waited in silence.  The swans sounded closer. Do swans fly in the dark?  That seem rather risky for a big bird like a swan.  There was no moon and no stars.  The trumpets were coming closer.  We're standing in the road in the pitch blackness.  The lights of Pierz are barely visible.  I'm sure the swans cannot see us.  What if the swans were flying low and struck us?  Can you imagine the bird with the largest wing span of any bird on the continent barreling into you in the pitch blackness?  That would knock you off your feet for sure.  Isolation and darkness make me a little paranoid.  Now we can hear the wind going through their feathers and the sounds of their wings flapping.  They're very close now.  Staring as hard as I can into the night sky I cannot see a freaking thing.  A polite "Honk" tells me they are right overhead now and high enough that we are safe.  Relieved we listen to their wings flapping away toward the town of Pierz.  I couldn't see a thing.  Even without my eyes I knew we had an awesome moment there. 

Open Water

Photo of us kayaking in Tasmania.

The ice went out on the Rum River yesterday.  All the puddles, footprints, snowmobile tracks, fallen leaves, and other debris got submerged.  What a shock to the ecosystem that must be when the ice breaks up and flows away. 

Instant gush of oxygen to the water below,
Sudden brightness without the lid of snow.
The history of winter activity goes over the dam,
Waiting now for kayakers to paddle by again.

Robinson Crusoe

Daniel Defoe's realistic fiction, Robinson Crusoe was riveting reading.  I could totally identify with old Robinson.  The youngest in his family, he didn't like the plan his parents had in mind for him.  His father encouraged him to aim for lower middle class as that is where the happiest people were located.  Robinson had an itch for travel and travel he did.  When he landed on an island to live alone for 25 years, it wasn't his first shipwreck.  He had been shipwrecked once before.  In his isolation he did question his choices and he wondered if his parents were correct.  If anything Robinson was a survivor.  He adapted.  When he saw he was using too much of his precious ammunition harvesting some of the feral goats on the island, he adapted.  He captured a male and female kid, built a fence, and tamed them.  From these two he built a flock that provided him with meat, milk and clothing.  Robinson was observant and he solved his problems one by one.  He wasn't always successful.  He spent a year constructing one canoe that was  too big and heavy to budge.  The next canoe he built was smaller and closer to the water.  I was fascinated to read about his thought process.  Although this is an old book (published in 1719) it is a classic!

Meredith's Indelicacy

Meredith, my eldest hen and (I thought) the Queen Bee of the flock has an indelicacy. Her rear end is bare.  Could be mites.  Could be canabalism.  It's possible the buff Orpington chicks are plucking her bald back there.  Ouch, it hurts me to think of it.  Maybe they're picking on her which would be too bad because she has been nothing but nice to them.  Whenever she finds a good food source she clucks for them to come and join her.  I sprinkled some mite dust in the coop.  Tonight I will try to smear her bald spot with Vaseline in hopes the other hens won't like the taste of that and leave her alone.  Poor Meredith. She has been through so much.  She was lost for 10 days in early winter.  She was attacked by a gray fox.  Meredith is one tough chick.

Pictures from Sunday

On Sunday we went out for dinner and a walk.

We walked around Minnehaha Falls.  Plenty of water was flowing next to the frozen water on the sides of the falls.

We had lunch at the Bryant Lake Bowl.  Our waitress drew a Picasso-esque bunny on our bill.


And then we went to the Seward Coop to buy just a few jellybeans and a handfull of malted milk balls.  The jelly beans were ok but the malted milk balls were stellar.

The Dove Keepers

Alice Hoffman (one of my favorite authors) wrote The Dovekeepers, a novel that takes place in the year 70.  The story culminates in an actual event; the seige of a fortress held by 900 Jewish people by the Roman army that lasted for 4 months.  Only 7 people survived.  The story is told by four women; Yael, Revka, Aziza and Shirah.  Their lives intersect and my opinion of each woman changes as I hear their side of the story.  As I read the book I kept thinking, "Offspring #2 would love this story."  She likes epics and complicated quest stories more than I do.  I did like this book though.  I can easily imagine it as a movie.

 

My Harbinger Of Spring Sang To Me This Morning

Now I know spring has sprung.