Plan for Tomorrow

This is my plan.  Actual results posted tomorrow.

The Best American Series

I read The Best American Series which is a collection of short stories.  I didn't realize at first that some of the stories were non-fiction so the story about the ecology of the island of Manhattan was throwing me off at first.  I liked this book.   The stories were intriguing and kept my interest going.  I often think I don't like science fiction but my favorite story in this book was science fiction.  In this story an unmarried woman, living with her parents, has a child.  Her child, like many others born in this particular decade, is a cube.  Some babies are cubes, some rhombuses and some pyramids.   Very few children are baby shaped.  She takes her baby cube to the playground and sets it in the sand by the playground equipment with all the other cubes.  She talks to her cube and she plays with her cube.  She feeds her cube by setting it in a dish of breast milk and the cube soaks it in.  The cube grows up and gets larger.  When that decade ends fewer cubes are born and more and more baby shaped babies emerge.  Eventually the cube babies are stored in institutions on shelves.  This was one of the strangest stories I ever read.  Last week I read a real story about a public health emergency in Brazil where a mosquito born illness has resulted in the birth of thousands of babies with microcephaly.  These Brazilian babies will need life long care and support and I might not have thought too much about it if I hadn't just read this science fiction story about cube babies.  I love short stories and I loved this book too.

Last Minute Needle Pointing

I started a needlepoint Christmas stocking for my new grand daughter in October.  I was in a waiting room at a hospital and instead of using the usual masking tape to seal the edges of the fabric I used paper tape.  I remember nurses asking, "Are you going to get that done in time for Christmas? This year?"  I answered confidently, "Yes!  This year.  Of course this year."  Am I done yet?  Even though I devoted most of last weekend to the Christmas stocking am I done yet?  No, I'm not.  I'm not done yet.  Santa is all done.  The bird and the bear and the soldier and the ball and the present are all done.  Just the darkest part of the sky remains from about the rim of Santa's hat on down to his arm remain undone. And sewing the back on the sock is not done.  I am not going to see my grand daughter until 2016 and she won't be to my house until Jan. 3rd so I have scads of time to finish the sky and sew the back on.  Scads of time!  Plus I have to sew her name on it.  Why does she have such a long name?  Ten letters and four syllables!  Her name is longer than Nicholas. I guess I can put the name on later.  Why did I choose such a long project?  Actually, needle pointing this stocking has forced me to sit down, wear my magnifying eye glasses, enjoy the Christmas tree, enjoy the chickadees and blue jays who come to eat out of my window feeder, and center myself.  I could have spent more of that time cleaning the house but oh, well, this seemed more important.  Plus I have learned something.  I haven't done needle pointing in many years.  I think my last project was finished 30 years ago.  But with needle point I can get relaxed and into a good frame of mind and loose track of time so it's a good craft for me.  I'll get it done.  I have scads of time.

Wait, what?

Sometimes in conversations it is hard for me to keep up.  Something is said that I can't comprehend right away so either I get lost or I say, "Wait, what?"  The other day my father was talking about doors.  Thirty inch doors, thirty two inch doors, and thirty four inch doors were mentioned while I'm thinking that I don't know the size of a single door in my entire house.  How can he keep all those door sizes in his head with all the other stuff he knows?  He seems to know the dimensions of all his doors.  He talks about getting a door from a cabin his sister had on Lake Carlos in Alexandria designed by that architect from Wisconsin.  Wait, what?  Are you talking about Frank Lloyd Wright?  "Yeah," he says, "that architect from Wisconsin."  I am sure Wisconsin has many architects.  Not entirely sure that he heard me I repeated, "Frank Lloyd Wright, right?"  He goes on talking about door sizes and I travel back in time to a visit to this cabin. What do I remember? I remember my cousin sitting under the kitchen table eating an entire stick of butter.  I remember my older cousin, a college student, driving a jet boat on the lake.  And most of all I remember their awesome mail box that consisted of a Franklin stove for the bills, a regular letter box for the letters, and a tiny mail box 15 feet up in the air for the air mail. I have always been fond of unusual mailboxes.  I interrupt the door size conversation to ask if he remembers the mailbox (mailboxes).  He responds, "Does a bear sit in the woods?"  Wait, what?  Does he know that is funny because of the other bodily function a bear does in the woods?  I am astounded that my uncle commissioned Frank Lloyd Wright to design his cabin.  I almost can't believe it.  While we talk about doors Offspring #2 looks it up.  Turns out a man with the same name as my uncle did have a cabin designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.  On his property he had an 800 pound gorilla statue that he bought in Mexico and shipped to Alexandria.  Could that gorilla be mistaken for a bear?  Wait, what? This is true.  I think Frank Lloyd Wright would roll over in his grave if he knew there was such a kitschy mailbox outside the cabin he designed on the shore of Lake Carlos.  I know this sounds fantastic but here is a link to the article and a google image of the bear gorilla:

 http://www.alexmn.com/real-estate/5175-County-Road-11-NE-Alexandria-MN-56308-mls_10-13862/

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All I know is I have put visiting this property on Lake Carlos on my to do list the next time I am in that area.

 

Song of the Lark

Willa Clark wrote Song of the Lark and I read it because it's an American classic.  Willa wrotes about a Norwegain family growing up near the sand hills of Nebraska in a small town.  The story revolves around the daughter, Thea who has a talent for singing and playing the piano.  She goes on to leave her home town and take music lessons in Chicago and later is Dresden, Germany.  Personally I liked Thea as a young girl better than the adult Thea.  The young Thea was an adventurous girl about town making friends with the town doctor, a railroad man, and the people on the Mexican side of the tracks.  She loved the sand hills and would talk others into taking her out there for picnics.  I find it interesting to read a book written in 1915 where the protagonist is such a strong feminist figure.  I enjoyed reading about life on the plains 100 years ago.

For Your Listening Pleasure

Somehow the animated score adds to the listening pleasure for me.

Gifts

Many years ago I got a gift from my sister-in-law who lived in Brazil at the time. She gave me a bottle of scent.  I am not a person who wears perfume and I don't like it when other people wear perfume either.  So this bottle, although more than 30 years old, is still half full.  The name of the scent is Eau D'Larc Musc.  I'm not sure if that is Portuguese or not but I know she bought it in Sao Paulo.  I don't think it smells like a lark although the only lark I know is a meadowlark and I have never smelled one of those but only heard them singing to my from the fence posts as I drive past with my windows open in the summer time.  Meadowlarks are such happy birds who sing with their breast struck forward and their mouth wide open. I like to think the meadowlark is singing only for me.  Back to the scent, I do somewhat enjoy the smell.  I use it sparingly.  It comes in a pretty green bottle and I enjoy the package too.  When I do put a dab on in the morning I do it because I need a little more fortitude or confidence that day.  Challenging event ahead?  Dab on a little Eau D'Larc to get through it.  Or, if at the end of the day I feel particularly proud of myself for one reason or another, I will put on a dab before I go to bed.  Maybe I held back a snarky remark that would have gotten nervous laughs but really didn't need to be said.  Most of the time I reward myself it is for keeping my trap shut which says a lot about me and my issues, doesn't it?  My point is, at this time of the year we struggle to find the right gift for each person that expresses our love and appreciation for them.  Gift struggles can stress us out and take away from enjoying the holidays.  The fact of the matter is we never really know when a gift strikes the sweet spot in someone's heart. Even the recipient may not recognize the value of a gift at first.  A gift may take 30 years to ripen in someone's heart.  When it comes to gift giving do your best but be aware you cannot predict what the other person will love and treasure.

Annual Girl Scout Holiday Dice Game

For years we get together every winter to play the dice game. Each one of us bring five one dollar gifts.  This year, for the first time, we played at a public venue, specifically at the Perkins across from Crossroads Mall in Saint Cloud. We did well. Everybody had a good time and we weren't thrown out for being disruptive.  Maybe we toned ourselves down a little bit because we were in public.  Usually this game gets extremely intense. 

Or maybe we're maturing because the most stolen gift this year was a beige oven mitt.  Seriously?  A beige oven mitt?  What has become of us.  The most coveted prize used to be things like a plastic VW beetle full of candy.  This year not even a tiny bottle of vodka beat a beige oven mitt.

Christmas Bird Count

We gathered together and were assigned slices of a pie circling the Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge.  We were paired two young fellers. How young?  So young they didn't have drivers licenses yet.  I was very surprised to have such young men at the bird count.  Usually everyone is 55 plus.  These two track athletes were great fun to bird with.  They had plenty of energy and were kind enough to laugh at my jokes.  We spent most of our time driving around our assigned area.  We got out of the car a couple times to look closely at open water for ducks. We didn't find any ducks but we did see a deer swimming in the Saint Francis river trying to climb out of the frigid stream. Thinking we might be seeing an otter, we walked toward it and the deer popped out of the water and took off running.  Did we save the deer's life?  I can't say for sure that we did but we might have so that counts.  We stopped by Elk Lake to look for ducks. Ice had recently formed and it looked pretty thick near the shore. We took a step or two onto the lake.  Did you know that when you throw a rock onto bare ice it makes a most bizarre reverberating sound at every bounce?  Both young men and old ladies enjoy throwing rocks onto a frozen lake.  At one point one of the boys said in a discouraged tone, "Oh, another blue jay?  Now we're up to 40 of those."  I countered with, "Lets aim for 100 blue jays!"  Turned out that was a good number of blue jays to shoot for because we came up with 92 and the closer to 100 we got the more exciting each one was.  The day was cold and sunny with absolutely no wind at all. Out bird totals were 11 turkeys, 4 bald eagles, 1 red tailed hawk, 2 rock pigeons, 5 red bellied woodpeckers, 2 downy woodpeckers, 1 hairy woodpecker, 4 pileated wood peckers, 92 blue jays, 7 American Crows, 1 Common raven, 25 black capped chickadees, 3 white breasted nuthatch, 33 American robins, 21 cedar waxwings, 3 American tree sparrows, 42 dark eyed juncos, 5 Northern Cardinal, 1 red winged blackbird, 9 American goldfinch and 1 great blue heron (not 100% sure about that last one).  Twenty one species seen; not too shabby! 

Can't Take Em Seriously

Today was "ugly sweater day," or "creative sweater day."  People wore ugly sweaters and some were creative. I can't hardly stand it.  All day I have worked close to someone with battery powered bulbs on her sweater plus gold garland and big huge silver star on her head.  Other people wore huge antlers.  How am I supposed to take them seriously when they nod their head in agreement and their antlers wave back and forth in the air?  My face hurts because I've been smiling and laughing at (not with) my coworkers all day.  Myself?  I wore an orange Scandinavian sweater thankyouverymuch.  Why?  Because orange is my favorite color!

My Secret Santa

Does it look like this Santa has been getting into the egg nog?

I joined the Secret Santa group at work.  I like the surprises I give and the surprises I get.  The person who has me has been extremely generous and really ought to slow down.  I am getting all kinds of incredible stuff.  Today, for example, I got a love metal candle holder and a set of 50 paper placemats.  On each placement is a beautiful picture of three owls, one snowy, one barred and one barn owl.  Each owl is painted in beautiful detail with a pine sprig on it's head.  I pulled one off and hung it on my office door.  They're that pretty.  I don't usually use place-mats and these place-mats are almost too pretty to use.  But I guess I'll use place-mats now. Or I could use the place-mats for wrapping paper.  Who is behind all these generous secret Santa gifts?  I can't wait to find out.

Is 99.3% Good Enough?

I stopped by to visit my orthopedic surgeon who sawed off my old hip and put a new one in.  He said he looked at my x-ray and is 99.3% happy with the results.  At the time I remember thinking that 99.3% happy is pretty good.  The doc seemed very busy and not in the mood for chit chat.  Now that I've had time to think I have to wonder about the 0.7%.  What would the difference be between 99.3% and 100%?  I did have time to ask him about the one thing I'm not able to do yet.  I can't get up from a crouch without grabbing onto something for support.  As a gardener, as a photographer, as a person who sometimes ties shoes for other people, as a camper who occasionally sleeps in a tent, as a chicken owner who needs to clean out the chicken coop, I need to be able to get up from a crouch without help.  Well, maybe need is a strong word.  I just want to be able to do it.  Nothing takes the shine after doing a good deed like tying someone's shoe like asking, "Can you help me up?"   I told the doc I can do it easily in the pool. He said that won't help at all.  What I need to do is put my back against the wall and bend my knees at a right angle and hold that position as long as I can.   He said I will feel it in my glutes and my thighs.  I tried that. Holy cow!  That looks easy but is hard as heck.  Even though I went to the gym and did interval training on the elliptical and the legs exercises on the weight machine, my legs were quivering like a bowl full of jelly after just a minute or two of this exercise.  Still, I am glad to know what to do to prepare myself for getting up from a crouch again.

Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin

I just finished reading a kindle version of Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin.  I found it interesting.  I thought he seemed overly proud of his philosophical thoughts as a young man and under proud of his experiment with the kite and the key and of his role in the formation of the United States of America.  The book was interesting although sometimes the language was so old it was hard to read and comprehend.  The great thing about Kindles, though, is that if you don't know a word you just put your finger on it for a couple seconds and the definition pops up on your screen.  I really like that feature because I don't always remember to look the word up when I get to a dictionary or a computer.  Old Ben gives us good advice on business, politics, leadership and common sense.  Now I'm thinking about reading Poor Richard's Almanac.

Performance Review

Even when every single word is positive I still do not like getting my performance review.  Of course I'd like it a lot less if I was told my performance needed improvement.  My performance does not need improvement.  I'm doing just fine.  How many more of these left to go?  I just thought of another reason to look forward to retirement - no more performance reviews.  No more raises either.  I remember those years when I got a raise with every performance review.  Seems like a long ago dream. I didn't get a raise this year either.  Oh, wait, I might get a COLA on my social security.   Now I have two reasons to look forward to retirement.

Oh Tannenbaum

My Christmas tree came courtesy of Offspring #2 who had a tree right under a power line in her yard that had to come down.  I cut it down six days ago and wrestled it into the house and have been watering it every day.  Finally today I had time to decorate the tree.  It is beautiful but sharp.  Some needles poke you like a mosquito bite.  This one pokes like a horse fly.  Wow.  Very painful.  But pretty!  I found a fox ornament in my box.  Is somebody trying to be funny?  Who gave me that?

On my lunch hour walk I take a couple people and we walk down to Laddie Lake.  Several weeks ago the lake froze over.  Suddenly the winds were not visible on the water surface.  A thin layer of ice made the lake surface completely flat.  The ice made quite a difference in the appearance.  Lately, with the unseasonably warm weather, I wondered if the ice would go out.  Today that happened. As we approached the lake we could see the southern wind pushing ripples across the lake.  The north side of the lake, where we walk, had ice from the shore out for about 20 feet or so but most of the lake was open.  I am curious how that change affects the life in the lake. What do the bass and the crappies think about this change?  Do they enjoy a sudden surge of oxygen from all the fresh air and wind action?  Do they like the warmer temperatures or would they prefer frigid water? As I walk along I come to realize I really enjoy keeping a close eye on a lake; even a small pond such as Laddie Lake has much to offer an observer. Someday I'd like to live on a lake.

Liar Temptress Soldier Spy

My book club chose to read Liar Temptress Soldier Spy: Four Women Undercover In The Civil War by Karen Abbott.  This book was a challenge for me.  The author, after moving to Georgia for a couple years, realized the Civil War is not completely over for some people.  So she wanted to revisit the story and look for the bad women in the story; the women who didn't follow the rules; the women who acted in unconventional ways.  She found four of them.  One was a liar, one a temptress, one a soldier and one was a spy.  My problem was she wrote the stories as they happened on the calendar.  I would have found it easier to read the story of one woman at a time instead of how things happened in chronological order.  I couldn't keep the women straight or even which side they were on straight.  Other people in my book club had the same trouble and some of them even kept notes on the four women.  The women in this story got away with bold acts of espionage because women weren't considered to be capable of such a crime.  This assumption made many men come across rather poorly because they were duped time after time.  One woman out of the four made the greatest risk of all because if she had been found out she might have been murdered by the men on her own side. That woman was the soldier who pretended to be a man.  If her fellow soldiers ever found out they may have killed her on the spot.  That happened to other women pretending to be men.  Ironically this woman/soldier's commanding officer asked her to go undercover and pretend she was a woman.  She did that quite well.  Before the war ended she went AWOL and back to being a woman.  So even though I skimmed quite a bit and didn't comprehend it all, I enjoyed this story and am glad I took up the challenge and read it..

It's A Wonderful Life

The idea of going back in time and seeing what your world would be like if you were never born is intriguing and that is what happens to George Bailey in the play, "It's a Wonderful Life."  I went to see a version this weekend at my former high school as part of the Rosetown Theater Group production starring my very own nephew as George.  And now, as a result of absorbing one performance, I am fully injected with the Christmas spirit.  All the performers were good but George was excellent.  He emoted the hell out of that play.  When they got to the part where George felt desperate because his uncle lost $8000 and the bank examiners was about to call the police on him and he started taking his frustration out on his children, my eyes got watery.  But when his wife said, "Why are you torturing the children?"  my eyes overflowed and tears streamed down my cheeks.  Later when George is back on the bridge yelling for Clarence and saying he wanted to live, I was out and out bawling.  When the lights came up I was a mess.  I looked over to Offspring #2 and her eyes were red and swollen too.  Some people look good when they cry but we're not part of that crowd.  We look a mess.  But it was a good mess. I totally enjoyed the roller coaster that is "It's a Wonderful Life."  George was so believable he out acted Jimmy Stewart. The standing ovation was totally deserved.

Paper Session

Yesterday a sibling and I went to the Bell Museum at the University of Minnesota for the annual paper session of the Minnesota Ornithological Union.  I always enjoy going to the Bell Museum because of the old fashioned art deco architecture and the beautiful dioramas.  This diorama here was so good that as I stood with my nose to the glass I felt I could walk right onto that path below the tree, right the little wood duck who leaped out of it's cavity nest and landed on it's back, and continue on the path down to the lake.  If I could only get past the glass, I could fast forward through winter and it would be spring again.  There are other fabulous dioramas such as the wolves next to cliff on Lake Superior and elk on a prairie, but today this wood duck one is the one I wanted to be in.  In a couple years these dioramas will be dismantled and moved to a newer, better facility on Cleveland and Larpenteur in Saint Paul.  This one seems perfect now.  The gnarly roots of that old oak look so real.  The papa wood duck sitting on a branch proudly watching his ducklings fledge is so perfectly staged that I fear they cannot be successfully moved.  Time will tell.  In any case I totally enjoyed the lectures we got about trumpeter swans, the taxonomy of wrens, the changes we can expect to see at an important birding area at the old Cedar Avenue Bridge, teaching children about the names and legends of birds in the Chippewa language, and the effects of the BP oil spill on Minnesota loons.  Some of the information was simple and some was complex.  When I hear the words mitochondrial DNA I begin to wonder if I'm in over my head.  I have to admit I was treading water for a little while there.  I always learn something though and I have a good time doing it so that is why I return.  Last year I missed the paper session because I was vacationing on Sanibel Island.  If there is a truly good excuse to miss a paper session, being on Sanibel Island is it.

Scandinavian Holiday

I went to a holiday party on Friday night with a Scandinavian theme.  The hosts even made Swedish meatballs with out meat plus a shallot gravy.  Wow, I was not expecting such delicious food. No one brought lefse! We had rice pudding and cardamom bread and all kinds of delicious food.  We spent quite a bit of time talking about DNA ancestry tests.  I guess all of us would like to know their ancestors better.  Some day, when I have more free time, I probably will explore my ancestry in greater detail but on this night, I relaxed with my friends and listened to the soft ding of the angels spinning in circles above the heat of four candles.

The Bobbsey Twins on Blueberry Island

I bought The Bobbsey Twins On Blueberry Island.  Normally I don't buy children's books but the circumstances were unusual.  I had just splurged and bought myself a Kindle so that I could read at the gym with my hands free.  The machines at the gym are worthless as far as holding a book open so I can read, exercise, and not fall off the machine. My kindle paper white works very well. All I have to do is touch the right side of the screen to turn the page.  Now I can read and work out and not fall off all at the same time.  Naturally I downloaded free books onto this Kindle.  When I searched for the important things when selecting a book to download (free, classic) I came up with this story by Laura  Lee Hope.  I loved the Bobbsey Twins when I was young.  I was happy to be reintroduced to Freddie, Flossie, Nan and Bert again.  I was, however, shocked at the blatant sexism, racism, and the rigid roles portrayed in the story.  Shocked, I say.  Bert is allowed to search for the missing dog but Nan and Freddie and Flossie must stay at home where they are safe.  Flossie is labeled as unusual because, unlike all the other girls, she isn't afraid to pick up bugs and worms.  Freddie's father calls him the fat fireman and he calls Flossie the fat fairy.  In this story the racism is mostly directed at the "gypsies" who are staying in the area and are suspected of stealing a doll, some toys, and the family dog.  I shake my head when I read the dialogue of Dinah and Sam, the Bobbsey family maid and handyman.  There is no way anything so racist and sexist would be written these days. The writing brings me back to an age of innocence but there is no way I am buying these for my grand daughter.  My consciousness has been raised.  The Bobbsey Twins have become offensive.  To be fair, it was published in 1917.  

Just Answer My Question Please!

I found an effective tool to deal with bloviating blabbers.   You know the type.  They talk and talk and don't say anything.  Judge Judy would slam her gavel on them.  I don't use this tool often but sometimes it is needed.  I am almost always polite but I get frustrated when I ask a question politely three or more times and all I hear is blah, blah, blah, blah.  So then I pull out my trusty tool which is to say, "If I'm hearing you correctly, you are saying {here I insert an answer that is the opposite of the one I want to hear but don't care anymore because I've asked three times and all I hear is empty comments that avoid an answer because the person doesn't have the ovaries to take responsibility for her refusal and it's a good thing I have a decent amount of impulse control because if I was lacking in impulse control I would have slapped her into next week after she didn't answer me the second time and I'm tired of listening to this megalomaniac take up everybody's precious time}."  (Take a breath.  Long sentence).  Both times I used this tool the other person said, "Oh, no, I'm not saying that!"  That is all I wanted to know.  I put that tool back into my tool box and don't take it out for a long time because most people are not bloviating megalomaniacs.

Like Robert Frost said, "Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it."

 

Brutal

On Monday I thought the roads might be a little bit bad so I left 20 minutes earlier than usual.  I got to work 1.5 hours late.  What?  In the past 26, almost 27 years of working in Blaine, my commute has never been more than two hours long.  Never!  And why?  I saw no accidents.  No lanes were closed.  Traffic was not moving.  Yes it was slippery but there wasn't that much snow.  I drove in second gear for 15 freaking miles.  I spent 50 minutes on the exit ramp where I could see the building I am supposed to work in but could not get there.  I actually thought about getting out and walking and coming back for the car later.  I didn't think the commuters behind me would appreciate that so I remained in my car.  Lucky for me I had a great book to listen to on CD so I wasn't overly anxious.  So, in response to being so late on Monday, I paid closer attention to the weather reports.  I hate being late. The weather reports were very alarming. Normally I don't listen to the weather on the television because I can't stand the hype.  I went out to the garage and turned my car around so I was pointed facing out so I could take my driveway head on.  I got up an hour earlier and rushed through my morning routine.  And today it took me less time than usual and I arrived at work over an hour early.  Plus I am exhausted because I didn't sleep well listening for the snow plow all night.  (It came by my house at 3:15 in case you want to know).  So far this winter commuting has been brutal on me. 

Clara and Mr. Tiffany

What a great book Susan Vreeland wrote about the under appreciated Clara Driscoll.  I loved every stinking sentence of Clara and Mr. Tiffany.  This is historical fiction about the life of a woman living in New York City at the turn of the century.  She works for Louis Comfort Tiffany cutting glass and designing stained glass windows, mosaics and lamps.  The lamps were her idea although Tiffany took all the credit for the idea and the designs. She designed lamps to look like daffodils, wisteria, dragonflies and peonies.  Since I dig glass and mosaics I really appreciated the details about choosing pieces of glass and incorporating nature into her designs.  Tiffany would not allow married women to work in his glass. He only wanted to take advantage of unmarried women.  Clara was an artist and she submitted to his unfair treatment because he gave her the opportunity to practice her art. She lived in a boarding house with other artists and had many friends.  I enjoyed reading about the first subway in New York City and Clara's first ride on a bicycle.  Clara's involvement in the design of the Tiffany lamps has only recently come to light because the New York Historical Society found two boxes of Clara's letters.  This story outlines the plight of women in general and female artists in particular.   

What A Show!

A bonus of having the last four days off work and spending more time at home is the show put on by my local wildlife.  The birds put on a show for Thanksgiving. I had a flock of crab apple eating robins, downy woodpeckers, hairy woodpeckers, red bellied woodpeckers, pileated woodpeckers, and Northern flickers.  This is the first year I have seen Northern flickers eating suet but they have been back every day.  I had chickadees and goldfinches and white breasted nuthatches and cedar waxwings and juncos and blue jays and cardinals.  A flock of turkeys strolled through the yard on Thanksgiving putting on quite a holiday show.  Male and female white tailed deer visited along with my resident chipmunk and a bunch of grey squirrels.  Flocks of Canadian geese can be seen more clearly now that the leaves are off of the trees.  What a show!  I sure enjoyed being home during daylight hours for a change.

Moving Robin Crusoe to Her Winter HQ

 Today was the day to move my remaining chicken to her winter headquarters.  She moved off the prairie and closer to the house where she will be warm and snug all winter.  Today was her first day out of the chicken run since July.  She enjoyed being out.

She was scratching on the ground and pecking and eating seeds and walking around.

You can see she has been molting.  She doesn't look so good.  She reminds me of someone undergoing chemotherapy.

After hauling her house and her run across the yard I put fresh wood chips in the house for her with a full container of food and a heat lamp.  I wanted her to go back into her house.  She didn't want to go back in yet.  I chased her. It was ridiculous.  She hid under the deck which is smart because I can't move very fast while ducking my head under there.  Then she hid under the black spruce tree.  That was a very good hiding place. I gave up on chasing.  I tried to lure her with black sunflower seeds.  See the pile there on the air conditioner?  She's looking at the seeds but not falling for my master plan.  I ended up chasing her in the direction of the winter headquarters and she went in willingly.  This took a long time though.

Here she is checking out her new abode and thinking about curtains.

Turkey Art Contest

I was really impressed with the hard work my guests put into the art contest this year.  Some entries reflected current events.

Others reflected events in their lives such as school

or retirement.

Get it?  Re tire?

Some entries included movie stars.

Or personal practices

and eating habits.

Some were political.

Others were scientific. (Don't eat me. I'm endangered).

This one is a Vladimir Putin turkey standing on the planet earth with the Turkish flag in the background.

This one was a tad violent.

Another Trump turkey.  (Chickens Go Home!)

Another movie reference.

And a Frozen turkey (Let me Go!  Let me Go)!  Everybody should get an award this year.  The actual winner was a non-traditional sculptural rendition of a turkey that involved an entire pineapple, a pear, grapes, and strawberries.  I forgot to get a picture of it before we ate it.  Every year we seem to have a big discussion about what is allowed and what should be allowed.  Strong opinions are voiced and flung recklessly around the room.  And that is how I know we have created real art because only real art invokes such passion.

Happy Thanksgiving! What Are We Grateful For in 2015?

I had to capture this photo of the moment of taking the turkey out of the pan.  Somehow the white meat and the dark meat separated easily.  Sometimes in life moments happen and I just have to enjoy them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

In alphabetical order we are grateful for "A" names, beds, blankets, cheese, cats, doctors, exercise, electronics, food, furnace, giraffes, home cooked meals, intelligence, just kidding, kayaks, kazoo, long underwear, lakes, monkeys with cymbals, nature, no school, onomotopeoia, peace, paychecks, rocking around the Christmas tree, Sue science, school, telephone, Unicorns!, vacation, wool socks, xerox machine, yougurt and zippers.  No offense to you questioners out there but when I made the alphabetical list for people to fill in, I forgot the letter Q.  I can not explain why.

Is It Just Me?

Is it just me or would you hesitate if you were introduced to a new doctor and he said his name was Faust?  Is it any different than meeting a dentist who said, "I'm Dr. Payne?"  How about meeting a lawyer with the last name of Cheatem?  How about a banker named Fraud?  Maybe a butcher named Esther Coli?  I shouldn't make fun of people's names. A person is given a name and sometimes, as in my case, things develop that make their name funny. 

Can't Not Hear Them

At the gym the other day I headed over to the exercise bicycles.  I prefer the old fashioned style over the recumbent bikes because I work harder on those.  My gym has 4 of those style.  Two guys were using two of them already and they looked like they were talking to each other so I didn't want to get between them.  I chose the last one outside of the two talking guys.  I got on and started pedaling figuring I'd do this about 10 minutes before going to use the weight machines.  I had just come off of the stair master so my heart rate was up there already at about 120.  I like to stay between 120 and 140 during the cardio section of my workout. I started pedaling and regretted not having a book to read this time to help pass the time.  The guys were talking loudly and laughing.  We're in front of a long bank of television sets and the guys were talking about football.  I tuned them out pretty well.  When the newscaster got back to local news these two guys were commenting on that as well.  I'm booking along happily on my bike until the news station showed film of Highway 94 being blocked by the black lives matter protest.  I know that I live in a conservative part of town; the part of town that repeatedly elected Michelle Bachman.  I accept my lonely life as a liberal feminist in Anoka County. I live in the part of town where people are fearful and uses fear mongering for political gain.  They talk about political correctness as if it were a bad thing.  So when these two bloviating cyclists started talking about black lives matter, I started biking faster.  They throw out a couple racist comments.  I can't not hear them because they're yelling over 5 empty bikes. I bike faster.  By the time one of them says, "They should take a fire hose on those protesters and wash them down the drain," my Exercycle tells me that my heart rate is at 146.  I get off my bike even though I have four minutes left.  I wash down the handles of the Exercycle and walk away.  I can't not hear them.  I don't know the whole story.  I wasn't there and I don't listen to the television media's sensationalist renditions.  I don't care who they are or what they did, no one deserves to be washed down a drain.  A better person might have used this opportunity for education.  I just walked away and used the anger they incited to me to lift heavier weights with more energy than usual.

Presentation

I went to a party yesterday and was so impressed with the presentation.  Don't get me wrong.  The people at the party were kind and friendly and very interesting. But the table was set so beautifully!  Much of the food followed the pink theme including strawberry cream cheese for the croissants, raspberry chipotle glaze over cream cheese for the pita chips, pomegranate seeds, pink cookies and pink grapes.  A mixture of raspberries and blue berries with small squares of pound cake were put in martini glasses covered with cool whip and a few raspberries on top. We had tiny little spoons with stones in a wire ball at the top to eat them with. For sure the fancy glass and fancy spoon made it taste even more delicious.  We could have pink lemonade in wine glasses once we took the pink curly ribbon out. The food came prepared except for the chicken salad which she made herself.  This hostess spent her time and energy on presentation.  I tend to do the opposite.  I spend my time making the food and to hell with the presentation.  My glasses don't match and I don't have tiny spoons that are not dishwasher safe.  I could focus on presentation because I see how nicely it comes across but I won't.  I like good food too much.  

Veil of Roses

With a good Irish name like Laura Fitzgerald I was not expecting such an Iranian cultural book as Veil Of Roses.  The plot was a predictable and boring romance but mixed in with that was a struggle for freedom.  Being able to feel the sun on your neck is a freedom not available to women in Iran.  Having the option to walk alone to school is a freedom not available to women in Iran.  Socializing with friends of the opposite gender is a freedom not available to women in Iran.  I was able to look past the silly romance plot and really enjoy the other parts of this story.  My favorite part was the description of the first walk in public by Tami, a 27 year old woman just off the plane from Tehran.  She walks from her sister's home in Tuscon past several miles of stores to a college campus where she is enrolled in an  English class with other immigrants.  A police officer walks by her at Starbucks and asks if she needs help.  She assumes the worst and is sure she will be deported immediately.  The way the author wrote it made it feel real to me.  I think of immigrants as brave souls but sometimes they have to leave their homes because staying while remaining sane is impossible.