Taken For Granted

I attended a graduation ceremony at Fort Jackson.  All the newly trained young men and women marched around Hilton Field in their uniforms.  I can't remember the guest speaker's name or rank but he gave us all an inspiring and patriotic talk.  While negotiating in Iraq, he met an Iraqi leader. This leader brought his grandson along.  The man asked for permission for his grandson to touch an Army soldier.  The leader explained that when his grandson became a grandfather, he wanted him to be able to say he touched an Army soldier who helped bring democracy to his country.  The Iraqi leader went on to say that he was concerned about the transition from American forces to Iraqi forces.  He said he knew where the Army soldier's loyalty was - to the mission.  He didn't feel as confident about the loyalty of his fellow Iraqi countrymen. He said the Iraqi counterparts may have their main loyalty to their family or to their clan leader.  Our speaker went on to say that the American Army is taken for granted.  People know and trust that a warrior is committed to the mission.  The American public and the American media take that for granted.  Other countries take that for granted.  He said it is a badge of honor that the integrity of an American soldier is taken for granted.  He went on to say that the family of American soldiers are also taken for granted.  And we in the audience can take that as a badge of honor as well.  It's not often that I hear such patriotic speeches.  What I read and hear in the media is not patriotic. I find it refreshing to hear another point of view spoken so eloquently and adorned with personal experiences.

Just Like Me

On my South Carolina vacation we have spent many hours at Fort Jackson.  But when we're not there we're at the pool because my nephew is just like me.  Or the me I used to be when I was his age.  Here is a picture of his and his sister's splash as they jumped in. She likes to swim too.  But my nephew is the first one in and the last one out - just like me.  He spends more time underwater than above water - just like me. He turns somersaults in the water - just like me.   He bobs up and down in the water-just like me.  He never gets bored when he is swimming - just like me. He creates fantasy scenarios in the water and acts them out - just like me.  So even though I'm tired of this hard lawn chair and overheated, I let him swim as much as possible because he is just so gosh darn cute - just like me!

Hoooah!

Today was family day at Fort Jackson, Columbia, South Carolina.  Three of us went to see our warrior graduate.  He was one of the youngest and tallest of his company.  H'e's thinner too. We met at Hilton Field inside Fort Jackson.  We sat in the bleachers.  Earlier in the morning we asked, "Who will need tissue today?  Is anyone going to get emotional?"  I didn't think I would as I am only an aunt.  We didn't bring any tissue.  We sat in the bleachers in the hot South Carolina heat.  When the speaker said the warriors were in the woods across the field and could hear everything, the crowd went wild with screaming, clapping, and stamping feet on the metal bleachers.  Tears poured out of my eyes at hearing the crowd's excitement.  Emotional reunions make me cry.  I cried during the rest of the ceremony.  And I gotta say, the Army knows how to make things dramatic.  We hear gun shots and see little things land in the field.  Colored smoke comes out of the little things that land.  Although the photo doesn't show it the smoke is yellow, blue and green.  The smoke thickens and moves to the left.  Drill sergeants for the five companies stand on this side of the smoke and we see our warriors run through the smoke and line up.  We hear artillary blasting in the woods. I am still bawling.  The warriors march forward and stand in formation and the crowds in the bleachers are released to find their person and spend the day with them.  It's hard to find our warrior.  Everybody is wearing the same uniform.  And I am a little slow. Parents and kids are hugging.  Spouses are hugging.  Little children and warriors are hugging.  All the people reuniting and showing their joy is making me cry even more.  I eventually catch up though.  Leaving Hilton Field takes forever because of all the cars.  We spend the day on base.  We visit the PX and buy some souvenirs.  We buy a couple pizzas and eat then at a picnic table by the lake.  We spend time at a playground.  We tour the combat training museum.  As we enter one room a video shows a drill sergeant yells, "GET OFF THE BUS!  GET OFF THE BUS!  GET OFF THE BUS!"  The video is motion activated so we hear these same words shouted over and over again.  The museum is very interesting and our warrior tells us about his boot camp experiences.  We go to the exercise center where the gym is set up with table games, inflatable castles, Wii games and other stuff for kids to do.  It feels good to spend time in the air conditioning.  We talk and catch up on what we have missed in the last 75 days.  We buy some Subway sandwiches and go back to the lake to have another picnic.  We're not allowed to take our warrior off the base so we send him back to his bay by 8 p.m. and drive back to our hotel for another swim.  It's been a good day. 

Fun at the Fair

The biggest pig at the fair having a snack.

Offspring #2 as Smokey

Today we went to the fair.  I took it easy because of my bum leg and because of the heat.  We got there around 8 a.m. when it wasn't busy and wasn't as hot.  We walked to the swine barn because I always enjoy seeing the biggest pig.  This time he was standing up and having a little something to eat.  I've only seen them lying down before.  We walked through the cow barn and into the horse coliseum.  Here is where I sat and rested my leg for almost two hours before my volunteer duties started.  I watched horse competitions.  I saw people of all ages and genders riding horses.  They had miniature horses pulling carts as well.  What struck me as funny is that the people riding in carts pulled my miniature horses were dressed in evening gowns and pearl necklaces for the ladies and suits with bow ties and fedoras for the gentlemen.  I enjoyed watching the horse competitions.  Soon it was time to head over to the Department of Natural Resources building and don the Smokey suit. I put on the vest with pockets of blue ice, the Wrangler jeans (60x32), the big hairy feet, the heavy, hairy torso with attached arms and hands and finally the head with the hat.  People notice Smokey right away.  They come right over while getting their cameras out.  If they don't approach me I wave at them.  I wave at everybody and try to get them to wave at me.  Most of them do wave at me eventually; my waves get more vigorous if they don't wave back right away.  I'm on a waving mission here.  A group of teens is seated at a picnic table.  They glance up at me and look away.  What!  Look away from Smokey?  I march over there as fast as my big hairy feet can take me.  I put my hands on the shoulders of one of the teens.  He looks up and is a little frightened and the group warms up.  Now they want their picture with me.  I knew it all along.  They like Smokey but were too cool to show it.  Being Smokey is such a rush.  People say I'm brave because of the heat.  People say they wouldn't play Smokey in this weather.  I don't see it that way at all.  The hour I spend in the Smokey suit is one of the best hours of the calendar year.

No Wonder The Water Was Slow

I use the water from the rain barrel on my tomatoes and flowers and herbs.  Today when I went to water the plants I noticed the water was really slow coming out of the hose.  We've had very little rain this month and the rain barrel is half empty now.  I turned the hose opening toward me to look and I saw a little frog holding up the flow.  The half inch frog crawled slowly out of the hose and hung onto the side of the spout.  No wonder the water was slow.  Before I could identify the tiny creature it hopped away.  I don't think it was a tree frog because it didn't have big suction cup pads on it's fingers.  It might have been a chorus frog or a peeper or a little wood frog that decided inside the hose on a rain barrel would be a good place to hang out.

Not What I Expected Today

Today I visited my orthopedic surgeon so he could look at my bruised shin.  I thought he'd look at it, poke around a little bit, tell me to keep doing what I've been doing and send me on my way.  Twenty dollar co-pay, 30 minutes, and I'm out of there.  That is not what happened.  To tell the truth, I'm a little traumatized and writing about it helps me feel better.  WARNING:  EXTREME GROSSNESS AHEAD.  Do not keep reading if you don't want to be disgusted.  Find another website to look at - maybe LOL cats or rainbows or unicorns.  Look at the you tube video about goats that yell like humans.  Don't say I didn't warn you.  Here is what happened. So the doc takes the gauze dressing off the wound.  Then he grabs some more gauze and with his bare hands and gauze he touches my wound. He lifts the black scab off the top with the gauze.  I was surprised by this because this scab is as large as a 50 cent piece but it didn't really hurt.  He takes two new pieces of gauze pads and squeezes my shin lump like it was a gigantic blackhead.  "What the HELL is that?"  I shout loudly.  I thought it was a Guinea worm.  You know Guinea worms?  They have them in Africa.  People drink water that contains eggs. The eggs hatch and move through the body and grow into worms.  When mature the worm comes out through the skin.  They can be as long as 12 inches.  The treatment is to wrap the protruding end of the worm around a pencil and turn the pencil a little more every day until the entire worm is out.  If you pull the worm too hard and it breaks off you are in trouble. I know this because Jimmy Carter had something to do with eradicating them.  Guinea worms are disgusting and that is what I thought I was seeing as the doc squeezed my leg and pushed out a foot long dark purple ribbon of jelly like matter that rises up and folds over it self on my leg.  It's either a Guinea worm or a giant leech.  He tells me it's my old blood.  He throws those gauze pads away and gets two more.  A quarter cup of leech like material comes squirting out. "That is disgusting!" I am yelling.  I cannot believe what I am seeing.  "This is freaking awesome!"  I yell again.  I am a little agitated. I am talking loud and too much - something that happens to me under stress.  I can see the doc and the attendant (typing on the computer) are smiling because I'm talking too loud.  The doc gets two more gauze pads and says, "Watch this."  Out comes more globs of blood jello.  The jello bubbles up in thick and thin streams according to how much pressure he uses.  It's like a blackhead times 1000.  "Oh, my god,"  I yell, "What has been seen cannot be unseen!"  The doc gets more gauze and does it again.  "Oh my god, this is so disgusting,"  I yell and then add, "Let me see."  I am surprised that this doesn't hurt.  Well, it didn't feel good but it didn't hurt either.  Looking at it a person would think it would hurt like hell but it doesn't.  The doc gets more gauze and squeezes some more before asking, "Does this hurt?"  It's a little late to be asking but I tell him it doesn't really hurt.  Using more gauze he continues squeezing until no more blood jelly comes out.  My lump, which was looking like a large man's knee now looks different.  Now it looks like a thick 5 inch pancake with a big and deep hole in the middle. I estimate he squeezed out a half of a cup of blood.  The hole is scary deep.  I ask, "What am I seeing here?  Is this my muscle?"  The doc explains that that is the subcutaneous fat that I see. Ewwww.  I saw my own fat.  He tells me we are going to change the treatment now.  Two or three times a day I am to apply a wet to dry dressing.  I pack the would with a gauze soaked in sterile saline.  I put dry gauze tightly over the top of that.  He makes a referral to a wound clinic.  He wants to see me again in three weeks. He hints that surgery may be needed in the future but he hopes it won't come to that.  As I walk out of the clinic and head to the drug store to buy more wound supplies I am a little shaky from this experience.  And my leg feels different.  I can feel nerves in my shin again.  For more than six weeks all I could feel was a numb giant lump; now I feel sensations.  The sensations aren't especially painful but it's different to feel something other than swollen for a change. I did not expect this to happen today. I am so glad I made this appointment for the end of the day instead of the beginning because I need some rest and quiet now.  If you are still reading this, congratulations.  You are officially not a wuss. No doubt you need to clean your mind. Go to google and search images of something that makes you feel better.

Gone Girl

My book club chose to read Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.  I would not have chosen it for myself even though it's a best selling popular novel.  The book was so popular I couldn't get it in time from the library to finish it before my book club meeting.  I read about half of it before the meeting.  This book is a thriller but I didn't care if I learned the ending ahead of time.  The discussion of the book is sometimes just as much fun as the reading of the book.  I ended up finishing it though after the meeting because it was horribly fascinating.  Let me tell you, this author is one sick lady.  How she could write about the marriage of Nick and Amy and the terrible things they did to each other - well she has to have a very twisted mind.  I fear for her husband.  I wouldn't invite her into my house for a meal I can tell you that much.  The woman who researched the book said Gillian Flynn writes her novels in the basement of her house and then comes upstairs to make meals for her husband and two year old child.  Creepy.  She writes about such terribly angry and sociopathic behavior that I question where she gets her ideas from. I've never met anyone as nasty as Amy Elliot Dunne.  I've never read about any character as nasty as Amy Elliot Dunne.  I heard this book may be made into a movie and that Ben Affleck will play Nick Dunne.  I will probably have to watch the movie when it comes out.  This story is like an addiction - it's sick but you just can't help watching.  But after the movie I will have to spend some time interacting with an honest and sincere friend to rinse that twisted manipulative behavior out of my mind.

Being Smokey

On Sunday I am volunteering as Smokey the Bear at the Minnesota State Fair.  I can not wait.  Everybody. Loves. Smokey.  Smokey is more popular than Jes . . . well, I don't want to pull a John Lennon here but please know that Smokey is loved by people of all ages and genders.  And since I'm inside the Smokey costume, that means everybody loves me.  The glory of it totally goes to my head!  If you ever have a self-confidence problem, playing Smokey will cure you - at least while you're performing.  Once you take off the hat, the head, the furry feet, the jeans, and the torso with attached arms and claws, your popularity rating plummets fast.  It can be a real shock to be ignored by the public just moments after you've been adored, hugged, photographed, and smiled at.  I am counting the days until Sunday at 11.  That hour between 11 and 12 o'clock will be one of my highlights of the calendar year.

My Family And Other Animals

My kind neighbors left me a stack of books to read during my illness and couch potato period.  "Read this one first," she said as she pointed at My Family And Other Animals written by Gerald Durrell.  She said this book was her all time favorite.  I enjoyed it too although it took me a long time to get through it.  The story is about a family.  A single mother is raising a family with Gerald being the youngest at about 8 years of age.  She moves them from their home in Britain to the Greek island of Corfu.  Gerald tells the story from a young boy's perspective of his mother and his older siblings.  Little Gerry grows up in a family is loud, scattered and supportive.  Gerry likes nature.  He goes out into the Greek countryside and observes nature and is fascinated by what he sees.  He brings home animals and is allowed to keep them as pets including turtles, geckos, owls, magpies, gulls, scorpions, fish and poisonous snakes.  His family complains yet tolerate all these dangerous animals in the house.  His family has lively discussions and each member's opinion is considered.  When his siblings invite too many people to come to visit, the family decides to move to a bigger house on the island.  When a less preferred extended family member decides to come to stay for awhile, another family discussion leads to them moving to a much smaller house on the island so there won't be any room for her to stay.  The family has elaborate dinner parties where what can go wrong, does go wrong and he writes about it in a very funny way . 

A Plan of Action

I have  a plan of action regarding the fox attacks on the chickens.  I have thought long and hard about it.  I asked for advice.  I weighed all the options.  And then today I came up with a brand new idea and went with it.  I thought about moving the chickens to another location for a month or so, using electric fencing, using a live trap, assassination of the fox, poisoning the fox, buying a rooster, setting mousetraps in the lawn around the coop, blocking the chicken's view of the outdoors, using my paintball gun, buying a bb or pellet gun, and buying a dart gun.  I was actually googling dart guns when I saw an image of a slingshot.  Perfect!  I immediately thought back to the lodge I visited in Africa.  We could hear elephants frolicking in the river. Baboons kept sneaking onto the open air dining room.  A young Masai warrior stood guard with his slingshot.  And this young man was good.  He was accurate and attentive.  Whenever his attention wandered, like when someone was talking to him, the baboons would sneak in and head for the bread baskets and the buffet table.  If we saw the baboons near the buffet table we would wave at the warrior and he would pop off the slingshot and those baboons would take off running.  It was great sport and really added to the enjoyment of the evening.  So that is what I want to be - like a warrior - protecting my chickens from the big bad fox without killing it, without trapping it and separating it from it's family.  The salesman at Dick's sporting goods also suggested "bear mace."  He said it would keep a fox away.  But the smell would not be good for the chickens.  He also warned me that I could make the fox angry and it could turn on me.  Okay, that is a worrisome thought.  But do you really think the fox would be angry enough to run up the deck steps after me?  I doubt it. 

A Great Day Made Even Better

Campers identifying critters in the river mud while I sat in a lawn chair on the dock and watched.

I knew yesterday was going to be a great day. I had an outing planned with my Master naturalist friends. We were going to meet at Wild River State park.  In the morning we were going to seine the St. Croix river and identify the critters we found.  After that we had a picnic lunch planned.  And after that a tour of a winery.  It sounded like a magnificent day.  What made it even better is that Offspring #2 and Offspring #1's wife were also going to be at the same park on the same day.  These two fine young women also participated in the seining of the river.  When the naturalist asked for a volunteer to hold one end of the net which involved walking out into the mucky weeds I was proud to see my offspring volunteer.  A woman who volunteers to get her calves muddy earn many points with any master naturalist group. With my leg wound I need to stay clean and dry.  That was my excuse and I'm sticking to it.  In the muck they found minnows, one small perch, dragonfly nymphs in various stages, whirligigs, crayfish, and other creepy crawly things.  There were many campers involved and they had lots of kids under four years old.  One looked to be a year old at most.  She could barely walk yet she was able to balance on her tiny bare feet on the cement boat landing.  In her sun bonnet and "onesie" she looked to have all the determination and agenda of any working woman.  All the kids were walking in the water, holding snails and minnows in little plastic cups, using nets to scoop up critters and looking at the river life.  What great parents here who brought their youngsters to explore, get dirty, and learn?  You meet so many nice people in state parks.  Who knows how many future biologist seeds were planted that day?  After a wonderful lunch in the picnic area we stayed for a class on medicinal wild plants. A chiropractor from Taylors Falls gave us a talk about edible and medicinal plants.  She said basswood leaves are more delicious than lettuce if you pick them before they totally unfurl in the spring.  I had never heard that before.  I had heard that you could get a chocolate like flavor from the round seeds of a basswood but I didn't know you could eat the leaves.  She went on and on about the great qualities of nettle.  Yes, stinging nettle; also known as burning weed.  Although you have to wear gloves when you pick it and boil it for 15 minutes to remove the sting, it is supposed to be packed with protein and vitamins.  I think I'm more likely to eat a basswood leaf than any burning weed. She took us outside to look at plants in the vicinity.  She showed us what chickweed was.  I have been curious about that for years.  I have plenty of chickweed in my garden only I never thought of it as chickweed.  I thought of it as that stretchy weed that stretches and breaks off when I want to pull it out.  When I got home I pulled a bunch of it and gave it to my chickens.  They gobbled it right up.  Here I've been passing right over delicious chickweed and picking dandelions for them.  After the plant lecture we left the park and headed over to a winery in Chisago City called Winehaven.  Today they were having an open house.  Anyone could come in and sample ten wines for free.  I have as much interest in tasting ten wines as I do in tasting ten kinds of meat - no interest at all.  My friends like the rhubarb dessert wine.  At the winery they had live music playing so I sat and listened to them perform.  My friends went on a tour of the winery.  That involved too much standing and walking so I sat on the patio, listening to music, watching boats on the lake across the road, and watching the birds fly by.  I found it relaxing to sit by myself and imagine being a bird.  Why do birds fly like they do at different altitudes?  Where are they headed? Do they go back to the same perches and stay in the same neighborhoods? What motivation do they have for flying above the winery and above the tree tops on this beautiful summer Saturday afternoon? 

View of the St. Croix River

View of the St. Croix River valley between two oak trees.

Picture of My Nemesis

 

This scene may not look threatening but it is.  The red fox is there.  Can you see it? Look above the black compost barrel.  Half his face is showing on the left side of the fence post.

See the fox now?  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! It's cunning little face is about the center of the photo.

Something Has Got To Change

This morning a fox came by to disturb my chickens at 6:10.  I went out to the deck but before I got there the fox had left.  I thought that was strange for the fox to give up so easy.  Turns out it didn't give up.  At 6:30, as I was preparing my protein shake and happened to be looking out the kitchen window, I saw a two front attack.  One red fox dashed at the chickens from the south while another dashed at them from the east.  Where did the second fox come from?  Is it a spouse or a kit?  The chickens went nuts.  Like teenagers they panicked and threw themselves against the run in all directions.  Feathers were flying.  The chickens thrashed against the sides and the top of the run.  I saw the top of the run raise a couple inches in the air.  I went out on the deck and yelled.  One fox took off for the hills.  The other stood there looking at me.  I used my "Mom" voice which generally works but not this time.  The fox just looked at me.  I picked up a couple pieces of scrap deck wood and waved them in the air.  I made myself look large.  No response.  I banged the pieces of wood together.  No response. I held one board up as if I was going to throw it at the fox. No response.  We stared at each other.  I scowled and stuck out my tongue.  Eventually the fox ambled away. You know if the chickens would just go into the coop when the fox came to visit, everything would be fine.  But no, they panic.  Their panic will be the death of them.  Something is going to have to change.  I consulted with a master naturalist friend of mine who also raises chickens.  He has dealt with raccoons, coyotes, dogs, owls,  possums and bear.  He suggested assassination, live trapping, or electric fence.  I don't want to kill the fox.  I hate to live trap a fox if she is the mother of helpless kits.  Electric fence?  I guess it's my only option.  Until I get that set up I guess I will set up some mouse traps near the coop and keep some metal pots and pans handy to bang together in case my "Mom" voice looses all it's power.  This red fox is sure persistent!

Threats to My Chickens

My chickens have been threatened at least 3 times in the past two weeks that I know of.  The latest incident was Monday morning.  I was taking a shower.  My bathroom window is close to the coop.  When I turned the water off I could hear the girls were in an uproar.  I peeked out the window and saw the fox. I yelled at it. Normally it will run off when I use my "Mom" voice on it but not this time.  Maybe it didn't listen because I didn't respond as quickly to it's interference because the water was running.  In any case the fox didn't listen. So I upped my verbal threats.  "Go on!  Get outta here!"  I yelled.  No response from the fox.  So I yelled out the window, at 6:05 a.m., at the top of my lungs, "Go on!  I got a gun!"  Yes, I lied to a fox.  And then I questioned the judgement of yelling "I got a gun!" out a window as loud as I did.  I would be concerned if I overheard one of my neighbors yelling those four words.  So I quit yelling out the window.  Dripping wet and with my robe not quite closed I jumped out onto the deck and yelled at the fox again while he could see me.  And he left.  I'm not sure if the sight or the sound of me scared him off.  Yesterday when I went to bring the chickens fresh water and to collect eggs I found some scat right next to the coop.  The scat was of a narrow gauge and twisted.  And there was hair in it.  Some carnivore dropped that scat and right next to the coop.  It could be fox scat.  But it could also be feral cat scat.  Feral cats prowl my neighborhood.  I've seen them kill birds but they could also get a mouse or a vole. Finding the scat of a carnivore right next to the chicken coop is not a reassuring sight. I hope it belonged to a cat and not a fox.   
. 

I Don't Think I'm Supposed To Go To Work Anymore

Living close to the Rum River as I do, I am limited to only so many ways to get to work.  I have three choices of bridges over the Rum. There are so many roads under construction around here that I think I am not supposed to go to work anymore.  The Bunker Lake Boulevard bridge is open but the road to the east of that is closed by the Ice Arena.  I can turn south there but 7th Avenue is down to one lane.  The Pleasant Avenue bridge is open but as of Aug. 19 I won't be able to get there because Highway 47 will be closed.  The Highway 10 bridge is open but as of August 19 I won't be able to get there.  And Highway 10 is down to one lane in Anoka.  So what am I supposed to do?  Go north to St. Francis to get across the Rum and head south and east from there?  That will double my mileage.  There is only one logical conclusion - I am not supposed to go to work anymore - or at least until construction season is over.

Query

Have you ever really studied a word long enough that it started to look foreign?  This has happened to me.  If I look at any work long enough, I start to doubt the spelling.  Take the word its for example.  Its. I. T. S.  Its.  Its.  Say its over enough times and its starts to sound weird.  Today I went to a training on the Microsoft product called Access.  And a word they used over and over again was query.  Query.  Like a line of questioning.  Query.  It's a great word in scrabble.  I swear she said query 200 times.  After the first 10 times query started to sound qweery. My stomach started to clench every time she said query. It it wasn't just query.  She said ad hoc queries.  She said query reports.  She even said, I kid you not, that we could "query a query."  As if that makes any sense at all.  I felt like a stranger in a strange land.  The language was a barrier for me.  She talked about primary key, foreign key, relationship ribbons, business integrity, enforce referential integrity, Cartesian products, and dynamicness.  Dynamicness?  I'm going to have to stay up all night processing this three hour training.  Or, and I think I will do this instead, just dive into access tomorrow and try it out and see if some of what she said made sense.  Maybe if I make some query reports it will all start to make sense. 

Long Distance Call

Today I got a call from Offspring #1 aboard the USS Nimitz. This was actually my second call from the ship but today was different because a) I felt better and b) I finished watching the first of three documentary disks about the USS Nimitz.  I could hear background noise as we talked and in my mind I am imagining the catapult throwing jets into the air.  Those catapults are really loud and even though Offspring #1's bunk is two decks below he can hear the catapult when it is used.  He works very long days and is able to sleep over the noise but I would hazard to say his sleep is not as restful as it could be.  Despite the long distance and the background noise, we had a pretty good connection.  There is a time delay so sometimes we would both start talking at once or both wait for the other one to speak.  Crazy to get a call from the Persian Gulf; crazy and wonderful.

Anton's

I spent the day with a good friend of mine in St. Cloud yesterday.  She sat with her left leg elevated because of her new titanium knee.  I sat with my right leg elevated because of my shin bruise. We talked about hospital stays and medications.  Suddenly I said, "WTH!  What happened to us?  We used to talk about adventures, staying out all night, ending up in the ditch, and how much we had to drink!"  Her Mom was there too and she started talking about going into the ditch and riding around with her friends in a small western prairie town 70 years ago.  I hate to admit it but it's true, I've grown old.  I don't feel old in my mind but I do feel old in the body some days.  We went out to eat at Anton's in Waite Park.  This is a local business located right on the Sauk River. We sat by the windows to watch the river flow by.  Ducks and geese waddled by the windows.  One of the domestic geese watched me as I was served a piping hot popover that was almost as big as my head.  The goose maintained eye contact as I put honeyed butter on my popover.  I think it was playing mind games with me because I felt terrible.  I was tempted to bring some popover outside to it.  Every once in a while the goose would open it's mouth and quack at me. I could see it's black tongue trying to form the human words, "Popover-bring to me now."  After about 5 minutes the goose waddled away and I could relax and eat in peace.  The food was great.  I had a farmers market risotto with spinach, artichokes, feta cheese and tomatoes.  It was really good.  This restaurant has a lot of charm. Some of the booths have arched canvas covers like Conestoga wagons.  There is a phone booth with a gorilla making a phone call.  The walls and ceiling are decorated with wagon wheels and carved wildlife and other odd antiques.  I will definitely go there again.

Bergamot

Success!  I've got two big bergamot plants growing in my prairie area.  Also known as bee balm this plant has purple flowers that smell peppery and are covered with bees and flies.  I am so excited to have something other than wild grape vines growing in this area.  The grape vines are pretty much taking over and they make it impossible to walk through there.  The vines trip me.  Bergamot has medicinal qualities.  It is a natural antiseptic. Native Americans used it to treat excessive flatulence.

Feels So Good

Yesterday the doc gave me the ok to go back to the gym.  I walked in there this afternoon with 10 various aches and pains. When I walked out I only had two pains - the bruise on my shin and the bruise on top of my left hand where I got IV antibiotics last week.  After weeks of being a couch potato, exercise felt great.  I took it easy though.  I spent only 15 minutes on the recumbent bike followed by 30 minutes lifting weights.  I lost a lot of muscle tone in the past few weeks. My thunder thighs were flapping like granny's bloomers hanging on the wash line as I biked along.  I reduced the amount I lifted on every machine.  The long row machine is the one that felt the best.  This machine stretches and pulls at all the muscles in my back.  Normally I don't notice the effect of it but today I could feel every single flabby muscle contract and retract and it feels so good.

Lake of Dreams

I read Kim Edward's book, Lake of Dreams, because I loved her first book, The Memory Keeper's Daughter so much.  Her first book was better than her second.  The story is about Lucy Jarrett, a hydrologist living in Japan who comes home to upstate New York because her mother broke her arm.  At age 28 Lucy is inconsiderate, impulsive, annoying and dramatic; the kind of sister who calls her brother at 1 a.m. about things that could wait until morning and can't understand why he is upset with her.  Like a white ball in a pinball machine she hurts the feelings of almost everyone she meets.  Can you tell I didn't like her much?  What I did like was the description of the town and the description of the stained glass windows. Short review is my feelings on this book were mixed.

Favorite Sounds

I've been thinking about my favorite sounds today after hearing a flock of Canadian geese fly by.  Besides Canadian geese honking, I also like to hear the "plop" when jelly jars form a tight seal, babies crying (not toddlers; just babies), the first red winged blackbird in the spring, the sound of thunder (especially when it's a really long thunder), the sound of a lady's dress shoes on the stone floor of a church, the sound of a steady rain when I'm in bed going to sleep, the purring sound my broody hen makes when I push her off the eggs she's sitting on, bird song, Rod Steward (goes without saying), the sound of my Honda engine turning over on a super cold day, voice messages from family and friends (especially my friend Debbie who makes her messages rhyme and not always on purpose), my canary Migwe, my local red shouldered hawk, and the sound of people singing the Happy Birthday song.

Frankenburger

The BBC website had an article about lab grown meat.  Stem cells are used to grow small pieces of beef muscle in a laboratory.  No animals are killed to get this meat.  The article goes on to say that only half of the vegetarians think they would like to eat this fake meat.  People who want to be vegetarians but aren't because they miss the taste of meat might be willing to pay extra for this product.  So could I eat this lab grown meat?  I really don't think so.  I'm not a vegetarian for animal rights issues.  I know I was born to be a carnivore and I am comfortable with other people eating meat.  Meat is a healthy choice.  I wear leather shoes so I am an animal user too.  I don't eat meat because I don't like the idea of chewing muscle.  So even though this lab grown meat isn't from a working muscle on an animal, it's still muscle so I'll pass.  Here is a link to the article:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-17113214

No Peace

The fox came by to visit my chicken coop this morning at 6:45 a.m.  He had them all upset and throwing themselves around the run.  The air was full of feathers.  I yelled out the window, "Stop that right now.  Get outta here!"  I used my "Momma" voice and the fox complied.  He moved about 15 feet away from the coop and sat on the mown path by the garden and watched the delicious chickens.  The chickens could see the fox so they were not settling down at all.  I had to go outside to make the fox move away.  From the deck the fox was partially hidden by a garden fence post.  I could see it's left eye but not he right.  The fox didn't take right off right away but it was gone by the time I put enough clothes on to go out into the yard and chase it away.  My poor chickens have been cooped up for over a month now.  They're safe and sound this way.  The threat of the fox is still present so it makes sense to keep them confined.

Four Week Anniversary

Today marks four weeks since I fell and hit my shin against a board.  I never would have guessed that day that I would still be having as much trouble as I am four weeks later.  For some reason my body does not want to let go of the swelling.  I've been to the doctor several times and I've followed medical advice.  On Wednesday I visited the doc again and took the suggestion to go the Emergency Room.  I was admitted to the hospital for 26 hours for IV antibiotics, rest, another ultrasound test to make sure I didn't have a blood clot, and hot packs.  And my lumpy shin is improved.  I think it looks more like the rock of Gibraltar as compared to the Mount St. Helen's it used to be.  Well, rock of Gibraltar is exaggerating.  What it really looks like is that I have a large man's knee cap 3 inches below my knee cap.  So I have 3 knees; two regular and one extra large.  Being in the hospital was a strange experience.  When I was wheeled back into my Emergency room after my ultrasound and saw an IV pole in there with antibiotics hanging from it, my first thought was, "I want those drugs now!"  When you find yourself looking forward to an IV, then you know you are sick.  I had great care there and was treated like a queen.  I had one doctor laughing so hard he quit breathing for an unusually long time.  I was getting worried about him.  I wasn't trying to be funny.  The situation was humorous and he had a good sense of humor.  I'm glad to be home now and on the mend.  After spending all my free time on the couch with my leg elevated higher than my hip during the past 4 weeks, I look forward to upright days ahead.