My First CSA

I picked up my first CSA (consumer supported agriculture) allotment today.  As I expected, I'm eating a bigger variety of vegetables.  Tonight I got 2 dozen radishes, a head of red lettuce, a head of romaine lettuce, 20 spears of asparagus, a pint of green beans and a pint of snap peas and 2 cups of strawberries.  There weren't many strawberries but the taste of these strawberries was more intense than what you can buy in a box at Cub.  So tonight I ate some asparagus, some romaine, one radish and all the strawberries.  Radishes, man, I just don't like radishes.  I ate one just to be sure I still don't like them.  I found out I still don't like them.  And they don't like me either.  I already gave 1 dozen to a neighbor.  I remember sometimes my Mom would make her potato salad with radishes and sometimes without radishes. I would be very disappointed if she included the radishes.  They're not easy to pick out when they're diced because the white part looks just like a potato or an onion.  So far I'm pleased with what I got.  When I picked up my food I was told that last year we got 5 or 6 ears of fresh picked corn almost every week.  I'm looking forward to that!

Living in Spicer

During my week living in Spicer I stayed in a camper cabin at Sibley State Park.  I shared the cabin with a friend who took the same class.  We had the spacious cabin to ourselves.  This kind of camping is luxurious compared to the walk-in campsite I had rented at Afton State Park.  Here we could drive right up to the cabin.  Unloading was easy.  The outhouse was right across the road from us and so was the water supply.  Showers were about 3 blocks away.  The showers were nice.  A green tree frog lived in the women shower room.  I took 3 showers with the frog in attendance and so did my cabin mate.  One morning I got up early to go to the shower house.  Some other woman was in there taking a shower and I heard her say, "Oh, hello little froggy.  My little froggy!"  We had it pretty nice in the camper cabin.  Unfortunately the cabin wasn't available Thursday night - our final night.  I had reserved a tent campsite near the lake.  When I heard rain was in the forecast for Thursday evening I wasn't so happy.  On top of that I was getting tired of black beans and rice that I had packed for my suppers.  One can eat black beans and rice only so many nights in a row.  Some other master naturalists were staying at the Spicer Castle.  They said we could get a room for $50 or $60 dollars.  I had looked at their website earlier and remembered much higher prices.  Because they raved about the place we decided to ditch the camping and stay at the Castle.  We drove out there after class and went to check in.  The two women who were staying there went up to their rooms to get rid of their bags.  We were shown prices of $89 and $119 for a night.  We weren't sure what to do when one of our friends came back down. Her name is Virginia.  Virginia is a force to be recognized.  I knew she was a pistol but had no idea how magical Virginia could be.  She "Virginiacized" that desk clerk.  By the time she was done talking we both had rooms for $53.  My room was in a separate building.  I got a room with an electric fireplace, a fridge, a microwave, and a hot tub big enough for four people to sit in. The hot tub was in the bedroom area. This was an amazingly large tub for a room with a bathroom so small my knees touched the wall when I sat on the toilet.  Still, I had a nicer room than Virgina!  We met for dinner at the Spicer Castle at 6:15.  The rooms at the Spicer Castle might be overpriced (unless you know Virginia) but the food is totally worth the cost.  The four of us had a great dinner.  We got a great dinner salad topped with a real orchid and a fresh popover.  Virginia ate her orchid.  I saved mine and put it in my room. One of us had steak, another elk, another fish and yours truly had ravioli. We had a great discussion about evolution and intelligent design.  After dinner we all wanted some alone time and I went to my room.  The Spicer Castle is a little run down and some of the art work is, um, how do I say this, terrible?  Here is the original artwork that stared at me from the wall at the foot of my bed.  

Here is a photo of a painting showing a boy sitting on a box holding a diffenbachia stalk with a goat behind him.  The eyes of the goat caught my attention.

 

 

Goat Eyes

As I tried to relax in my bed at the Spicer Inn I noticed the goat kept staring at me.  The boy stared too but he didn't bother me as much as the goat.  Goat eyes typically creep me out because of the keyhole shape of their pupils but this goat was worse.

This goat had human eyes, only yellow. And he's chewing on that diffenbachia (also known as dumb cane because the toxins in it make your tongue swell up so you can't talk).  The goat is looking at me and chewing the diffenbachia as if it knows.  If that goat had a thought bubble it would say, "Yeah, I'm eating a poisonous plant and we both know it."

I had to force myself to look away!  I was beginning to wonder if a soggy sleeping bag would be better than having this yellow eyed goat stare at me all night long; even in the dark. This goat had a malevolent air about him.  Could you sleep with this "artwork?"

I Will Try To Make You Wave Back!

Today I got the opportunity to be in a parade - something that hasn't happened since my Girl Scout troop put their collective foot down and said, "No more parades!"  I love being in parades.  I love waving at people.  I like making people wave back at me.  To induce a return wave I look them straight in the eye, smile broadly, and give them eye contact until they wave back.  This technique works 75% of the time.  I was working the crowd today.  I handed out leaflets and candy and I waved both arms.  My feet have blisters, both arms are tired, and my face is sore from smiling but it was a good day.

Spending Time On The Prairie

Chalk Faced Corporal Dragonfly

I spent the last week on the prairie learning about the prairie.  I stayed at Sibley State Park near Spicer, MN.  I studied the prairie and pothole course with the Master Naturalist program.  This, I think, was a really good use of my vacation time.  I learned a lot of information, made a bunch of new friends, spent hours in the wild learning from nature experts, and had a really good time.  The first thing I noticed when I entered the park were the dragonflies.  Hundreds and hundreds of dragonflies were buzzing around the fields, the roads, the trails, and the parking lots.  Dragonflies must have had a recent hatching because I can't remember the last time I saw that many dragonflies.  As a part of the course we have to do a capstone volunteer project.  We have 4 days to get this project done.  I decided to join in on the dragonfly capstone.  With four other people we developed and produced a one page (both sides) handout for families visiting Sibley State Park.  The handout is designed to provoke interest in dragonflies and damselflies.  We hope the handout will get people to notice the flying insects and learn that they don't all look alike.  Together we had fun netting dragonflies and identifying them.  I got pretty good at netting the creatures.  Soon I became experienced at holding them by their wings inside the net as I turned the net inside out and carefully took them out.  Today was graduation day from the prairies and pothole course.  I drove out of the prairies and back to the big woods, big river biome. I won't miss the power point slides but I will miss everything else about this week.  

Kandiyohi

I visited the Kandiyohi Museum in Willmar today and saw one of the last 4 oxcarts.  These oxcarts carried supplies from St. Paul to Winnipeg from 1840 to 1870's.  The squeaking of wood on wood could be heard for 5 miles.  Some remnants of the oxcart trail ruts can still be seen on the prairie today.

I've read about these oxcarts but never thought I'd get to see a real one.

This museum had a display about how death was handled in the 1800's.  Here is a horse drawn hearse with windows so everyone could view the deceased on the way to the graveyard.

Here is the view from the conductor's seat of a stream train engine.

Lots of steam gauges inside the engine.

The Kandiyohi Museum has a lot to offer!

Gardening

I found a monarch instar while weeding the peas.  I let milkweed grow in the garden but pull out the other weeds.

The chickens stayed pretty close to me.  I think she feels safer that way.  The fox has been hanging around all week.  My neighbors chase it out of the yard when I'm not home.

This chicken kept coming close to me but was camera shy.  This shot was taken by pointing the camera behind me between my knees.

Don't eat the carrots!

The same camera shy chicken. Photo was taken as I bent over and pointed backward between my knees.  Lest you think I am more flexible than I am, it was a lucky shot.  I wasn't looking at the screen.

A pleasant afternoon spent in the garden battling the weeds-just me and my chicks.

Violent Thoughts

I had violent thoughts this morning at 5:09 a.m.  The hens were clucking away again.  As the tone and topic of the chicken talk turned from concern to panic I realized there was a fox out there.  The fox was on the far side of the chicken run.  The chickens were throwing themselves against the sides of the run in panic; feathers flying through the air.  I yelled at the fox and it left the immediate area.  I could tell by the way the chickens were talking that the fox was still visible.  So I got out of bed again and looked.  The fox was still in the yard and looking at the chickens.  I yelled at it until I saw it take the path down the hill past the compost pile.  And then I went to bed thinking violent thoughts.  Knives, I thought, knives inserted handle down and blades aimed outward.  Shards of glass, five to six inches high, embedded in the earth at varying angles like I saw on top of fences in Nairobi.  I was offered a shot gun to use over the weekend but I turned it down.  Now that the fox has spotted these chickens will it harass them all summer long?   I looked forward to summer during this long miserable winter and now this?  I have a lead on where the fox den might be.  A block away a neighbor has a big wood pile. On top of that wood pile the red fox has been spotted stretching first forward and then backward.  If I was to disturb that wood pile I would keep that fox busy moving it's kits to a new spot.  I run the risk of the fox moving to a den even closer to me.  If that fox comes by when I'm not home the chickens could panic themselves to death.  Or the fox could dig under the run and get in.  I could wrap the run in fabric so the chickens couldn't see the fox and panic.  I could move the chickens into the garage for a week so they are safe.  Maybe the fox would loose interest in this yard.  I guess the urine of the Boston Terrier isn't working.  Or I could get an electric fence.  I've read the people with pets live longer.  Pet owners are constantly trying to solve problems.  I think the mental activity of solving problems is what leads to a longer life.

Dude, Where's My Gut?

My exercise team, "Dude, Where's My Gut?" won the employee fitness contest by racking up the most exercise minutes compared to the other teams.  We won the 5 week contest by only 15 minutes.  I worked hard but was not the team member with the most minutes by a long shot.  One week I thought I did especially well totaling 505 minutes in a single week because we got double minutes for riding a bike one of the days.  And still our average for that week was 515 minutes.  One of the guys on my team is an exercise fanatic.  He plays hockey for 2 hours and then goes to the gym.  Still, we won and I helped.  The contest increased my motivation.  I know this because this week, when the minutes don't count, I find myself thinking "Oh, 45 minutes is enough.  I don't really need to go a whole hour."  I got my prize today and it was more than I expected.  I won a plastic water bottle, another toothbrush, a wide grip smooth writing pen with an orange barrel, a pedometer, lip balm, and a Cub gift certificate.  So now to decide how to spend that gift certificate.  Do I, in the spirit of the competition, buy Brussels sprouts, almonds, and kale and unsweetened Greek yogurt?  Or do I reward myself for my hard work by buying cheese pizza, diet root beer and no sugar added ice cream for root beer floats, and dove chocolates? That would be dark dove chocolates so they're healthy, right?  I am going camping next week so dove chocolate would be appropriate for s'mores.  Actually, when I eat a s'more I leave out the marshmallow and the graham crackers and just eat the chocolate.  I should call them s'less. 

You Know It's Been A Wet June

You know it's been a wet June when weeds sprout in the porch rug made out of macrame cord.  The rug is under an overhand and doesn't usually get wet unless the rain goes sideways.  Golly, not only do I have to mow my driveway but now I have to weed my rugs?

On The Other Hand

On the other hand, the chickens weren't so adorable at 5:22 this morning (when I don't have to get up until 6!) bawk, bawk, bawk, BAWK?  Then two chickens bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk, BAWK, BAWK.  Then three chickens bawk, bawk, bawk, BAWK!  You get the picture.  Eventually all four chickens were bawking about somebody's ovulation schedule. I am grateful for the eggs yet I still have 36 more minutes to sleep and everyone knows that last 36 minutes are the most precious.  These chickens are cutting into my prime REM time.  So from the comfort of my pillow and firm mattress I told the chickens the shut the heck up asked them kindly to tone it down.  Did they listen?  No, they did not.  Bawk, bawk, bawk for another ten minutes.  After all I do for them!  Just today I convinced my neighbor to bring her 17 year old Boston Terrier to empty his bladder in my yard as an anti-fox precaution.  Chickens - it's not all moonlight and roses just so you know.

So True

Jump At The Sun

This story is about motherhood.  And where to we women learn to be mothers?  We learn from our mothers and grandmothers.  In this story by Kim McLarin, writes about Grace and her role as the mother of two young daughters.  Grace is a sociological professor who is staying at home with her children.  Grace is trying to decide what to do.  Just because she is an expert in the field of sociology doesn't mean her head is on straight.  Should we model herself after her mother who is a caregiver extraordinaire - the kind of mother who puts the needs of her children and foster children above her own needs?  Or should she model herself after her Grandmother who, time after time, abandoned her children and always put her own needs ahead of her own even borrowing money that she knew was meant to keep her grandchildren fed?  Mothers can be a good role model or a horrible example; sometimes both.  Grace seems to be equally afraid of both models of mothers.  She doesn't know what to do.  And what mother hasn't been tempted to drive away when the kids get bratty, the kitchen is a mess and she is up all night with a sick kid?  I think the author did a great job of portraying Grace's dilemma in a kind and understanding light.  This book kept my attention the whole way.

Today I let the chickens roam while I moved their coop to a fresh spot and did some gardening.  I was pulling up weeds when I noticed the chickens nervously moving beneath the shelter of the bridal veil shrub.  The four hens stayed there and I kept pulling weeds.  I was about 15 feet away from the shrub when I saw the four girls loudly move toward me.  The fox stood on the other side of the shrub.  I yelled and raised my spade above my head, "Get outta here fox!"  I wanted the fox to know I was speaking to it and not any other animals around.  It turned it's white tipped tail and ran.  This is my first fox sighting since Labor Day of 2013.  I suspect they've been around but out of my sight.  I guess this fox could be feeding kits so is under much pressure to provide food for it's family.  Early summer is a busy time for animals.  I had to chase a doe and her two spotted fawns away from the garden just yesterday.  The deer weren't as intimidated by me as the fox was but I was farther away.  There is a catbird raising a family in the black spruce outside my bedroom window. It's nice to see so much life around the yard after a long, sterile winter.  I'm going to be extra careful when I let my chickens out from now on.

Alter Ego

Since winning "Beastie Naturalist" at a convention a month ago, I've been keeping up his facebook page.  Beastie is an interesting hunk of wood.  I think it's possible it's a hunk of root.  With a long snout, long ears, a wry smile, a rhino horn and a couple other unspecified projections, it's hard to know exactly what it is except a beast.  As the anonymous yet not anonymous voice for Beastie Naturalist, I feel free to like other people's posts, comment on their adventures, and put up my own things.  I like being Beastie for a year. 

Never Let Me Go (Again)

My book club read Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro.  I read this book several years ago so this was my second time.  So this time I knew the ending to this dystopian fiction and could look for clues.  This writer lets little tidbits fall inconspicuously until they all pile up into something unbelievable  For both the reader and the characters in the story, denial comes naturally.  The group had a great discussion though because this is an upsetting book to read.  We talked about cloning and stem cells.  One of the members confessed to having stem cell treatment of her non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  She received a bone marrow transplant after undergoing rigorous chemo and radiation.  With her own cells returned to her she was different.  Allergies she suffered from before were gone.  A skin condition that bothered her for years disappeared.  Her body's immune system was reset with the bone marrow transplant.  I think that is just fascinating.  Most people in our group liked the book but admitted it was a somber read.  Never Let Me Go has been made into a movie.  Kiera Knightly plays Ruth. I just can't wait to see this story on the big screen.  .

On TV

Look for me around 2:53 - trying to blend in the background!

New Kind Of Pasta

I tried a new recipe this weekend in my quest for taste and low carbs combined.  I bought a spiral slicer and made pasta out of zucchini.  I used 3 zucchini and spiral sliced them.  The slicer works like a pencil sharpener.  You put one end of the zucchini in there and twist it like  a pencil.  And the end of the zucchini becomes cone shaped like a sharpened pencil.  The pasta comes out the side.  Some of the slices were a yard long depending on how steady I was sharpening the zucchini.  I made a really tasty sauce because I wanted something delicious to go on a pasta that I wasn't sure I would like.  My tasty sauce involved onions, mushroom, garlic, fresh herbs and tomatoes simmering on the stove for 3 hours.  To cook the pasta I put it in a glass dish and microwaved it for 2 minutes, stirred, and microwaved it again for another minute.  And it was good!  I liked it.  I liked it as much as regular pasta. The only difference was that usually, after a meal of pasta and sauce, I feel like I would drown if I had to swim.  With zucchini pasta I felt satisfied yet still able to swim.  Some people peel the zucchini before slicing it so it looks more like pasta.  I left the peel on and it was just fine.  Some strands were darker green but they tasted the same.  I'm happy with the results.  Now, lets see, what else can I spiral slice?  Carrots?  Potatoes? 

Crazy Rich Asians

I'm not sure why I chose to read Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan.  I think I wanted a funnier story after finishing Maya Angelou's autobiography.  This was a funny story yet behind the comedy lurked a sadness.  Rich people really don't have it all.  Maybe they have private jets and exclusive, luxurious vacations and designer clothes but is that what life is about?  In my mind, life is about relationships.  Wealthy people don't always have that.  You can't buy respect.  Trust is not for sale.  This is a funny/sad story about some outlandishly rich yet unhappy people living in Singapore. The story describes a city and a society unfamiliar to me.  I'd like to go to Singapore someday for maybe a day or two.  I wouldn't want to spend very much time on such a highly populated island. In this story a young woman named Rachel Chu goes to Singapore with her boyfriend Nicholas Young.  She doesn't know that he is one of the super rich Asians.  She becomes a target because she is liked by one of the richest eligible bachelors in Singapore and because she is ABC (American born Chinese) and because she comes from the middle class.  He doesn't prepare her for her journey into the Crazy Rich Asian society.  Rachel is a likeable character and this was a likeable novel.

Graduation. Then and Now.

View of the top of the mortar board decorated to look like the A from Alvin and the Chipmunks.  That is a dog in the upper left corner.

View from my chair at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium in downtown Saint Paul.

I went to a high school graduation last night.  Things have changed quite a bit since I graduated in 1972. This ceremony was in a huge auditorium.  Mine was outside.  This class had about 550 graduates.  Mine had 623 graduates. This school had colors of black and silver.  Mine had black and gold.  Most of the kids in this class decorated the tops of their mortar board hats.  I saw glitter, foil, numbers, flowers and actual electric lights adorning the hats.  One hat read, "I ♥ my Mom."  No one in my class decorated our hats.  We had to return our caps and gowns.  In this ceremony about 40 teachers were on the stage wearing black robes and hoods indicating their area of study.  The graduates walked through the teachers on the way to their seats.  I don't think we had that at my graduation.  This ceremony was filmed and projected on the screen behind the stage and will be shown on cable television in the coming week.  My ceremony was not televised.  I'm pretty sure there was no cable television then.  These students were instructed to act in a dignified manner.  We were told the same thing.  The graduates at this ceremony tossed beach balls around during the very long reading of all the names.  We did the same thing at my ceremony. At both ceremonies families clapped for their kids as their names were read and they crossed the stage. At my ceremony some kids had bottles of alcohol hidden in their gowns and they took gulps as the evening progressed.  I was too far away to see if that happened at this ceremony.  At my ceremony, when my name was called, I had a mantra repeating in my head saying, "Don't fall.  Don't fall.  Don't fall flat on your face."  I expect some kids at this ceremony had the same mantra.  One of the kids in this ceremony did a cartwheel on stage.  Another one, later in the alphabet, did a back flip but she nearly kicked a school board member in the head and she landed on her knees, hard.  It sounded like it hurt.  Overall I think the graduates at this ceremony had more poise and confidence than my fellow graduates.  I remember how I felt at my graduation ceremony.  I felt numb.  I wasn't especially happy or proud or sad or nostalgic.  I knew it was a memorable moment but I wasn't sure how I felt about it.  I knew that up until this point I had been marched along a path set for me by my parents, my teachers and society in general.  After this moment my choices multiplied and my options increased.  No longer could I coast along the school house road.  Now I had to map out a course of my own which was as thrilling as it was frightening.  No wonder I felt numb.

No Phoebes?

I haven't seen any Eastern phoebes yet this year and usually I have by now.  I haven't even heard them calling "fee-a-bee" or "cheese burger."  They have a 3 syllable call as compared to the black capped chickadee who sounds similar but has only 2 syllables.  Other birders have noted the lack of phoebes too.  I wonder what is going on that accounts for the lack of these little gray nondescript birds?

All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes

My local library put up a display of all of Maya Angelou's publications.  That caught my eye.  I was sad to learn of her passing.  I can remember reading only one of her books, I Know Why A Caged Bird Sings.  That book was an autobiography of her childhood.  This book, All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes is another autobiography but this time she's in her 30's and living with her son in Ghana, Africa.  She's a very good writer.  I can picture the city, Accra, she lives in and almost smell the food she describes.  She meets very interesting people including Malcolm X and Cassius Clay.  Maya talks about her country, the United States of America, from the perspective of living in Africa.  Unlike some of us who never question our patriotism, Maya Angelou takes a long, hard, deep look at the USA; the country that enslaved her ancestors.  She knows discrimination.  She knows racism.  Maya has the ability to see those qualities even in her own behavior and attitudes.  She has a refreshing and shameless self image.  This book was so good I think I'll read more.  I believe she wrote seven autobiographies; each detail a different section of the life of Maya Angelou.

Frog and Toad Survey #2

If I had to describe this frog and toad survey in one word it would be wet.  Wetness all around.  In this photo you can see the wetland crowding the left side of the road.  What you can't see from this angle is that the right side of the road is just as flooded as the left.  Fish could swim up this road.  We started early because the skies looked like they were going to open up and dump buckets of rain.  And we were right because at the 8th stop the rain started.  We had to quit then because we couldn't hear anything but rain.  The wind was blowing hard enough to sway small trees.  I'm glad we left when we did because it was a harrowing ride home.  I had to drive 20 or more miles below the speed limit most of the time because I couldn't see the road.  The road was littered with tree debris and we think possibly a tree did come down on Hwy. 169 because 3 emergency vehicles were parked on the side of the highway.  Not many cars were out last night but there were plenty of frogs and plenty of mosquitoes out.  We heard tree frogs, spring peepers, American toads and chorus frogs.  The tree frogs were the loudest and most plentiful.  We also heard veery singing, snipe winnowing, and some other sounds.  One of the sounds we heard was like large bubbles of gas coming up through the wetland and breaking open.  Another sound was like that of a severe digestive ailment.  Although it would be fascinating to know what exactly made those sounds I am not willing to go into the wetland and find out because who knows, it could be the swamp monster.