Bergamot

Several years ago I went on a Master Naturalist event where we learned about prairie plants and then collected seeds.  I was assigned the wild bergamot.  I had never heard of bergamot.  The plant is also known as bee balm and I had never heard of that either.  As I picked the bergamot seeds that afternoon I became familiar and attached to the plant.  I hiked through the prairie scouting for bergamot and picked off the seed heads and put them in a paper bag.  Later those seeds would be spread in another part of the prairie that needed some help.  A couple bergamot seed heads went into my pocket.  When I got home I spread them in my own prairie area.  One of them took.  Last year my bergamot blossomed.  This year the plant is HUGE!  Several small bergamot plants are growing beside this one that is four feet high.  Shaggy lilac blossoms cover this plant and the bees are all over it.  All varieties of bees visit this plant.  I understand the flowers and leaves can be used in teas and salads.  I think I'll leave mine out for the bees to enjoy.  I guess I picked the right plant for the right place because my bergamot is thriving!

Blue Moon

A blue moon is coming this week.  People are talking about it.  When I think about the blue moon, I think about this run down drinking establishment near Pleasant Lake outside of Saint Cloud.  For a month one summer I lived out there with some friends.  I also visited quite a bit and we would stop at the Blue Moon when we got off work at 11 p.m.  One very cold winter night I was driving my friend home from work.  The weather was so cold and the heater in my Rambler was so bad we had to scrape the ice off the windshield on the inside as I drove. She scraped an opening for me to see while I drove. I got a flat tire.  I had lots of flat tires in those days because I never bought new tires.  I bought retreads.  I believe retreads were old tires with the tread cut deeper a second time so they wouldn't be bald tires. We stopped at Simonson's gas station on Division Street to put on the spare.  My fingers got so cold I had to take breaks inside the gas station to warm up.  I was dressed in my white nurses aid uniform and a winter coat. I was an experienced tire changer.  With the spare tire on we drove to the Blue Moon for a nightcap.  When we came out of the Blue Moon another tire was flat.  Since my spare was already on the car we were up a creek.  We called another friend for a ride home.  I took one flat tire with me.  By the time I had two new retreads ready to put on two days had passed.  Also a blizzard had come by.  I asked my friend for a ride to the Blue Moon.  When we got there my car was invisible under the drifts of snow.  My friend said emphatically, "I am not helping you change that tire until you make sure that car starts.  It won't start."  Normally she is an easy going person but not this time.  She went inside the Blue Moon.  I angrily got a shovel and started digging. The sun was up but the air was cold. I dug my way to the driver's door.  I dug a path to the exhaust and to the flat tire.  I left the rest of the car buried in the snow. Maybe even I had doubts about the starting power of this car.  I got inside my car.  I sat in the driver's seat.  I put the key in the ignition. I patted the dashboard and politely asked it to start.  I pumped the gas pedal three times.  That is what we did in those days.  We pumped the gas pedal before starting the car.  Each car was different as far as how many pumps it needed.  This orange Rambler needed three.  I looked ahead at the windshield covered with snow.  I thought about my friend inside the Blue Moon thinking this car would not start.  I turned the key.  Despite the fact that the car sat alone and lonely in the Blue Moon parking lot for two days during a blizzard, despite the fact that it was -20 degrees Fahrenheit, despite the fact it had a flat tire, the engine purred to life like it was 60 degrees and sunny outside.  Even I was surprised how eager this car was to start.  How do I describe my happiness at hearing that car engine running? I don't have the words to describe it.  I swaggered into the Blue Moon.  I sat next to my friend who was drinking a beer. I said, "My.  Car.  Started."  She looked at me in disbelief.  She opened the door to the Blue Moon and saw for herself it was true.  Without a word she put on her coat, grabbed a shovel, and helped me dig out and change that tire.  That car had problems.  The floor was rusted through so I could see the road below.  The trunk was rusted I sometimes lost papers and other thin items as they fell out.  The carburetor was such a problem one repair shop told me to never come back with that car again.  I took that personally.  What a mean thing for a auto repair person to say!  I kept a spoon on the dashboard to start it sometimes because once my friends saw fire on their fingers they didn't want to hold the butterfly choke open manually anymore.  And this car had lots of flat tires.  But my car started at the Blue Moon so that made it an awesome car.  The Blue Moon, for me, is a memory of epic redemption and pure happiness. 

What Frank Said

Oh What A Beautiful Morning

This morning I opened my eyes and saw that the world was orange.  The sky was orange and the warm light streamed into my windows.  What a wonderful thing to see!  I jumped out of bed to capture the beauty with my camera.  The camera doesn't do it justice.  I talked to another person about the orange sky this morning.  She saw the orange sky and felt anxious. She didn't see the beauty.  She ran to the television to check the weather station thinking a tornado was surely barreling toward her.  Funny how we reacted so differently to the same stimulus.  It is true we got heavy rain. In the space of less than an hour I got 1.2 inches at my house.  There was so much rain the road held a puddle of water a foot deep in front of the building I work in.  I didn't care.  Never in my life did I see such an orange sky in the morning and it was beautiful.

Ratatouille

Today was a beautiful summer day.  The pavement reflected the heat back at me from the road as I rode my motorcycle home.  Red lights were especially hot with my helmet, jacket, and leather gloves on. In my left saddle bag I had my lunch bag and my swim bag (including a wet bathing suit).  In my right saddle bag I had my CSA allotment (kale, onions. cucumber, summer squash, green and yellow zucchini, 4 ears of corn, green beans and wax beans).  As I took a right on Coon Rapids Boulevard from Hanson Boulevard my engine started acting funky.  I gave it gas and the engine acted like it really wasn't feeling it.  As I got onto Coon Rapids Boulevard the engine died.  I coasted past the acceleration lane onto the side of the road.  I reached down and turned the gas to the reserve tank wondering how many miles had passed since I filled the tank.  I would guess only about 100 miles were on this tank.  The reserve tank isn't actually a separate tank but only a lower intake from the sane tank.  After moving the gas to the reserve tank I let the engine rest a minute to get used to this change.  I started the engine up and it ran just fine.  I put two gallons of gas in the tank at the next gas station.  I was careful driving home.  With my heavy load and with all these vegetables stuffed in my saddle bags, any accident would make ratatouille out of me.

Oklahoma

Last night we went to see Oklahoma at Fridley High School.  I have seen the movie Oklahoma and the production at the Chanhassen Dinner Theater.  This show has some dark themes but this version is the darkest one I've seen.  When Curly (the good guy) comes into Judd's (the bad guy) living quarters in the smoke house and says, "Nice rope you got here.  Excellent rope if you want to consider hanging yourself," I was aghast.  This version also had a dream sequence.  The Persian peddler, Ali Hakim (my nephew) sold the heroine some smelling salts that would help her make up her mind.  After smelling the salts she fell into a opium like sleep.  She dreams about being stalked and chased and threatened.  This show was definitely not all about tall corn, beautiful mornings, and surreys with the fringe on top.  Ali Hakim threw in the much needed comic relief.  He was hilarious.  Judd was also a great character.  He played such a creepy guy that I never noticed, until the final musical number where he is singing the theme song with the rest of the group and smiling, that he probably isn't naturally a creepy guy.  His posture, his facial expressions, his singing all indicated a simmering anger.  After the show I saw him in the hall and he was a totally different person - not creepy at all,  We had a great time watching the show.  I see those people on stage and I think that looks like so much fun.  I'm sure they put in many, many hours of hard work to get there.

Screaming Bloody Murder

When I came home this noon and went into the house I heard a bloodcurdling scream.  I thought maybe a rabbit had met it's demise.  Two minutes later I heard it again.  And again.  I kept on moving laundry and I heard it again.  This time I thought it was in the back yard.  Back upstairs I heard the scream again and I thought it was in the front yard.  I stuck some leftovers in the microwave and I heard the scream again but it sounded like the back yard.  Curious, I went out on the deck but could not see any animals suffering.  This would have to be a very large rabbit to scream this loudly.  Maybe one of the local feral cats had gotten injured. Or could a deer make this much noise?  Whatever it was had plenty of energy and of a pretty good size because it was still screaming.  Now I was really curious so I put my lunch aside, donned shoes, and went outside to explore and come to the bottom of this screaming.  As I reached the driveway I looked up.  Out of the tall dead tree flew a juvenile red shouldered hawk.  The hawk screamed again as it flew to the north.  This didn't sound like the typical red shouldered hawk that usually hangs around here.   Maybe this one is so young it doesn't know the whole red shouldered hawk song yet so it just imitates the sound of a rabbit dying very loudly.  I wonder for what evolutionary purpose the red shouldered hawks are so talkative?  Why scream bloody murder while resting in a tree?

Holy Unlikelyhood!

Today I met a man at a meeting at work.  I don't want to give away his entire name but his last name was Gordon.  I shake his hand and bite my tongue so I don't say, "Any relationship to the Commissioner?"  Did I watch too much Batman on television in the 1960's?  Possibly.  Probably.  Yes.  Yes, I did.  Throughout our two hour meeting I get glimpses of him.  He has thick black hair trimmed short.  He is on the shorter side and he looks fit. He's probably still in his 20's. He wears dress pants and a dress shirt.  The edge of a tattoo shows discretely under the cuff of his right sleeve.  His sentences are short, sincere, and to the point. When I think about it, he does resemble the sidekick Robin!  Maybe, since family name is Gordon, his father is Robin and his mother was Bat Girl. Holy Impregnability! What could have happened is that one dark and foggy night in Gotham City, Bat Girl and Robin got carried away while still wearing their masks.  Holy Lovebirds!  Bat Girl got pregnant and never told Robin.  Holy Special Delivery!  Robin doesn't know who Bat Girl really is (secret - she is Commissioner Gordon's daughter) and Bat Girl doesn't know who Robin is (secret - Bruce Wayne's legal ward).  Holy Romeo and Juliet! This guy I met grew up in the Gordon household never knowing his father was a crime fighting side kick and his mother was Bat Girl.  Holy Missing Relatives!  Since he is the grandson of a police commissioner, his family is wealthy and that is why he went into the human services field.  See?  I got it all figured out while appearing to be engaged and focusing on the meeting.  Holy Masquerade!  I know I will, most likely, see this guy quite a bit at meetings in the coming months.  I hope I can keep his real name in mind and not call him Robin, Junior by mistake.  

Ant Colony

Just for kicks we dug up an ant colony.  As you can see it was 10-12 inches high (higher than the tines of the pitchfork) and 12 inches in diameter.  It was evenly circular and flat on top.  I wondered what would be inside if we lifted off the top.

The mound was full of dirt and panicking ants, larva and grubs.

We saw ant eggs and larvae and pupae. Some of the larvae were white and others were tan.  There was much more soil in there than I thought.  I guess each generation just kept building on top of the last making the nest grow higher and higher.  Minnesota has at least 50 species of ants so I don't know what kind these are.  Since they don't come in the house I don't mind them.  I just dug up their home for curiosity reasons.

The Importance of Family

This weekend we introduced Offspring #1's Offspring to the family.

I was honored down to my bones that everyone came and spent the day together.  Because when it comes down to it, we can't take our material possessions with us to the grave.  Our relationships are the most important thing in life. “The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life.” -Richard Bach

Things I Saw Walking Around The Block Last Night

This cow!  Is that a solar panel on the forehead?

I can hear them ripping the grass.  The best grass seems to be just beyond the fence.

Two horses stand guard.  The rest eat in peace.

America's next top model.

This is not the best photo of a common yellow throat but this is the best look I've ever had of one of these elusive birds.  They sing "witchety witchety witchety."

What is your favorite chocolate?  White, milk or dark?

Should I have painted two black lines between those 3 windows upstairs?

The rolling hills prevent the sinking sun from lighting up the entire field.

I love these rolling hills.

I took a right on 480th.  Wait now.  How long has this street sign been here?

The school house road.

Are these tiger lilies?  I haven't seen one of these for years.

Blooming Milkweed.  If there wasn't so much poison ivy between me and this plant I would have looked for monarch eggs.

The timing of the rain has been fortunate this year.  All crops look lush.

Oats!  Yum!

Soybeans!  Yum!

Such a relaxing walk.

The Truth According To Us

I dreaded this book. I dreaded coming to the end of it because I will miss Willa, Jotty, Felix, Bird and Layla.  I loved the people who lived in the town of Macedonia, West Virginia in the 1930's and 40's.  Annie Barrows wrote such a great story that I am mourning it's completion.  I was lucky when I picked this one off the shelf.

Little Wolves

My book club discussed Little Wolves by Thomas Maltman on Tuesday.  The author is a teacher at Normandale Community College. I wasn't a fan of the book.  Most people liked it.  For some reason, unless it's Sherlock Holmes, I don't like mystery books.  I resent being manipulated by the author to suspect the innocent.  This book put me off for biological reasons too.  The story is set in the prairie of south west Minnesota.  In south west Minnesota we have no wolves.  And no mountains.  He has written a mountain into the prairie.  So very wrong.  The author admits there are no wolves, only coyotes, but continues to call them wolves.  What I did like about the book was the description of what it is like for a young couple, fresh out of the ministry school, to move to a small town and take over a church and try to do things right.  The people in the town are used to their culture and their ways and they don't want any changes made.  That and some of the characters were intriguing.  But the ending?  I can't think of a more disgusting ending.  The other people in my club all liked though so my thoughts are in the minority.

Foggy Night

Last night Offspring #2 and I went with a group of about a dozen people to the Maplewood Nature Center for a program on bats.  We watched a presentation about bats for a half hour before proceeding out into the dark and foggy night.  I learned that I should move my bat house.  I've had a bat house for 7 years and never got any bats.  Bats who roost in trees don't use a bat house.  If I moved my bat house to a pole or the side of the house I would have more luck attracting bats.  We walked around a big pond in the nature center. Most of the path was dirt but luckily had few tripping hazards.  The rest of the walk was floating boardwalk and some of it was smeared with goose droppings.  We had an echo-locator which looks like an old fashioned transistor radio with a cone shaped antennae.  Our instructor set the echo-locator for 20 kHz.  We stood in the dark woods right next to the pond and listened.  All twelve of us are silent and listening.  We hear a chirp once, twice, three times.  We look up and all we see is fog but there is a hoary bat up there somewhere making laps over the pond and gathering dinner.  She turns it up to 30 kHz and 40 kHz but we don't hear any more.  We walk on into the fog.   The fog makes the night spooky and dangerous and exhilarating.  We're on a mission. We're united in the same goal.  We're like a military unit.  Maybe we're spies.  Bat spies.  I brought bug spray but didn't put any on because the mosquitoes aren't bad tonight.  The guy in our group poured bug spray on himself and he is throwing out a huge stink that protects us all.  Ugh.  We come to another opening in the woods next to the pond.  We listen at all 3 settings on the echo-locator.  We hear a chirp at 40 kHz.  A red bat!  We hear tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick.  Little brown bats are flying circles above us.  We look all around and can't see much beyond the foggy outline of the trees, the lake and the occasional firefly.  We proceed to walk onto the board walk and I suddenly get a childish urge to press the button on my keychain attachment that is shaped like a pig.  I mentally scold myself for being childish but the urge is strong.  I have 12 people here straining to listen in the foggy night.  They are all interested in nature. Some are experts with frogs and toads and birds.  How fun it would be to throw a mechanical pig sound into the mix.  Once I have the thought I can't let it go.  I tell Offspring #2 about my impulse. She advises me not to do it.  We walk forward listening to more bats on the boardwalk.  I can't help myself.  They stand there intently listening. I have an audience of 12 master naturalists.  When will I get this chance again?  I turn around so I don't face the group.  I put my pig in my pocket so the light that comes out of the pig's nose doesn't show and I press the button.  "Oink!"  I hear the leader say, "I don't know what THAT was!"  Is that all the reaction I'm going to get?  I think to myself that this would have been much, much funnier if we didn't have cell phones.  People have become accustomed to hearing all kinds of strange noises now.  Still, I'm smiling in the dark at 10 p.m. as we walk back to the nature center to go home.  What a wonderful evening!  This was the perfect ending to a hectic day.

2050

Today my tiny granddaughter is flying in a plane.  Is she a good traveler?  Is her crying disturbing all the other passengers?  What a different life she will lead compared to mine.  For the first 30 years of my life the airport was where I went to drop people off or pick people up.  I flew for the first time at age 30.  I was pregnant and hanging on to the strap for dear life in a four seater plane a friend was flying.  He took off from the Anoka airport (long gone now) and flew over the Mississippi River.  He flew us  over our house in Coon Rapids.  I realized that from the air our yard didn't look worse than my neighbor's yard.  That was the moment I stopped participating in the suburban turf envy wars.  Perspective has always been helpful to me.  This pilot friend of ours needed to practice take offs and landings.  So we took off and landed a dozen times.  A passenger can feel the turbulence more in a small plane than a large plane.  Despite that I enjoyed the ride.  My right hand was cramped up due to holding the strap but other than that I was fine. Exhilarated in fact. 

 

So if she flies at 6 weeks and I flew at 30 years of age, what will life be like for her in 2050?  I imagine travel will be a common experience for her.  I would think people will live longer and be healthier.  Maybe New Orleans, Venice, and Florida will be underwater by then. It's possible that the people in Minnesota will be rich if we are cautious with our freshwater supply because there won't be as much fresh water in 2050.  Will we go back to the day of smaller slaughterhouses and smaller creameries?  It's possible that eating locally will be important.  According to Smithstonian.com, there will be fewer people in prisons.  Race will be less of an issue than it is now.  All in all, things sound pretty good in 2050 for my little grand daughter.  It's hard to imagine that far ahead.

Frogs and Toads

https://www.pwrc.usgs.gov/naamp/index.cfm?fuseaction=app.routeSpeciesDetectionMap

If you go to the website above you can select a map of Minnesota and select a frog you are interested in and see where they have been detected.  Our route is the Kroschel route if you want to look at that data.  It's interesting to see where the Green frogs are in Minnesota.  I see more in the east and less in the west.  I guess there are more green frogs in the big woods, big rivers biome and the north woods biome and hardly any in the prairie biome.  This year we heard pickerel frogs. They've never been heard before on the Kroschel route but they have been heard in Princeton and in the Crow Hassan Park in Hennepin County.  And the call of the spring peepers?  Not all Minnesotans get to hear the peep, peep, peep in the spring.  Some prairie areas don't have spring peepers.  I can't imagine a spring without hearing a peeper.  The most common frog I see is the northern leopard frog.  I don't often hear them calling but the map shows they're pretty common all through our state.  I like to hear the "keck a heck" song of the wood frog but the southern edge of the state doesn't hear them either.  I looked up the Canadian toad.  I have never heard one but they're pretty common even in my part of the state but not as common as the American toads.  The most common frog to be heard seems to be the boreal chorus frog.  That one sounds like a person rubbing the teeth on a comb.  I do hear them frequently in the spring but I can't say I've ever seen one.  I believe this volunteering for the frog and toad survey has changed me.  I can't help but listen for frogs anymore.  Frog listening has become a natural instinct for me. 

Please?

Eleanor and Park

I got this book at the library because I requested it.  When I opened it and started to read I had to ask myself why I wanted to read this book.  Obviously its not for adults.  Eleanor and Park is a book written by Rainbow Rowell for teenagers.  The book starts off on a school bus going to high school.  A new student, Eleanor, gets on the bus and no one lets her sit down.  The bus driver yells at her to sit down but all the other kids ignore her and won't make room for her.  Sounds like a terrible moment.  High school can be tough on students who don't have a social network established.  Why would I want to read a book like this?  Then I remembered.  Eleanor and Park was a controversial book in my school district.  We had this group called the Parent Action League and they wanted the book banned.  The Parent Action League is a very squeaky wheel and they even got a planned visit by the author cancelled at the local library!  And get this.  Her visit to our local library was cancelled during Banned Books Week.  Ironic much?  Luckily for all of us, the book was not banned.  It was reviewed by a committee the principal put together of students, parents and teachers and was deemed appropriate for high school students.  I wanted to read this book for myself because of all the controvery.  Eleanor and Park is a story about two high school students.  One is named Eleanor and the other is named Park.  Eleanor and Park are good kids who make good decisions.  They are kind to others, thoughtful, intelligent and doing their best in the circumstances they are in.  They don't use drugs.  They are not bullies.  They try to be kind to their parents.  Yes, the f word is used about 227 times in the story but the story is about two good kids.  I don't understand why an adult would want this book banned.

Final Frog Survey

Last night was our third and final frog and toad survey for this year.  I knew the mosquitoes would be bad so that is why I wore jeans, socks with shoes, and a light colored long sleeved shirt despite the hot and humid weather.  We started out with a festive dinner in Hinckley and then drove to our first stop.  The sun was red from the Canadian wild fires and the countryside stayed lit up long after the sun went down.  At our first stop 14 cars went by so it was hard to hear any frogs.  The veerys and common yellow throats were calling so beautifully and so loudly that I decided I would like to tape the sound for a "going to sleep" sound to hear in bed except I would edit the sound of the mosquitoes out.  By the third stop the mosquitoes came out in droves.  At each subsequent stop the mosquitoes got worse.  When we first drive up to a spot and get out of the car, we see no mosquitoes.  Within 30 seconds a couple blood suckers are buzzing in my ear.  I think they're calling to the other mosquitoes, "Fresh Meat Over Here!"  We have to stay out there for 5 minutes and by the fifth minute I end up putting my head inside my shirt just to get some relief from the ever present noise they make.  Looking at my belly with my head tucked in my shirt gets quite boring.  I think we missed the sound of some frogs because the mosquitoes were so loud.  We ended up hearing tree frogs and green frogs.  We know our five minutes are up when we hear a knocking at the window from inside the car.  We are so happy to hear that knocking and we rush back and get in quickly and shut the door immediately to keep the mosquitoes out.  Despite the pesky bugs we did enjoy ourselves.  The birds sang to us.  The fireflies lit themselves for us.  We heard some frogs but they were quieter than normal.  Maybe it was just too hot and too muggy to think about procreating.

I Can Dream

 

Beautiful weather was predicted for today so I rode my bike to work.  The problem was I had picked out a black pleated skirt to wear.  Wardrobe problem solved by wearing black yoga pants under the skirt.  The skirt flew up in the wind as I motored down Bunker Lake Boulevard.  In my mind I was in Rome instead of Coon Rapids.  In my mind I was riding a red Vespa.  In my mind I was Audrey Hepburn.  A girl can dream, right?  Because it takes a lot of dreaming to convert a skirted, yoga panted, helmeted old lady with a yellow safety vest into Audrey Hepburn.  Actually, I think I look closer to a Martian (from the planet Mars) than an Audrey.

Anne and Helen

This is a newsreel of the actual Helen Keller and Anne Sullivan.  Amazing!

Tell Me Everything

In this book, stories are told.  Another word for stories would be lies.  Lies are told and are so frequent and so convoluted that eventually I don't even care anymore what a story is and what the truth is.  There are some damaged characters in Tell Me Everything by Sarah Salway.  The main character is Molly and she doesn't tell the truth.  The stories Molly tells are what keeps this teenage girl off the streets.   She tells her stories to Mr. Roberts who lets her stay above his office supply shop and allows her to work in his store.  Molly finds a new life and makes friends with a hairdresser, a local librarian, and a mentally ill boy named Tim who thinks he is a spy.  In tantalizingly small amounts the author gives us clues to Molly's past and how she got to where she is today.  If it wasn't for my curiosity about Molly, I think I would have given up on this book before I finished it.. 

Winged Wings

Migwe has an appearance problem. He has wings on his wings.  Two feathers, one on each wing, is growing in sideways.  I think he looks a little ridiculous.  I tell him, "Preen yourself Migwe!  Your feathers are crooked."  He doesn't listen.  Since he's a Russian canary, maybe I should say, "prikhorashivat'sya sebe Migwe . Vashi per'ya krivo."  If only I knew how to pronounce that.

Another Song Memorized

While enjoying the bonfires this weekend there were two birds I wanted to figure out.  One of them sings "Ee-oh-lay" in a flute like voice.  That made me think of a thrush because robins and veerys are thrushes and they make similar sounds.  Woot Woot!  I was right.  What we were hearing sing "Ee-oh-lay" is a wood thrush.  I've seen wood thrushes in my yard before hopping on the ground like  a robin and moving leaves aside to eat insects.  So maybe I still don't know what the other bird is but I got one figured out and I even correctly guessed it was in the thrush family.  The other bird sounds mechanical and I can't even begin to describe it except the word unpleasant comes to mind.  Maybe it's not even a bird.  I know it's not a frog but maybe it's a loud bug.

Free Fruit

On this holiday I thought I would take it easy. We ended up picking fruit.  Picking fruit was fairly relaxing except for the occasional fire cracker going off in the neighborhood.  We started with the wild blackberries that have volunteered in my yard.  We picked 3 pints of those.  The unripe blackberries are white or red.  The ripe blackberries are black and shiny.  We saw blackberries that were black but not shiny and those aren't ready yet. After a few minutes of picking you can tell the difference.  The ripe blackberries fall off the bush.  I lost quite a few to the ground. Of course the prettiest, most inviting, and delicious blackberries aren't on the border of the mowed paths.  Noooooooooooooooooo, the best ones are deep inside the blackberry patch.  That is why my legs look like I have been whipped.  I have scratches up and down my legs from those blackberry brambles.  After that struggle, picking cherries seemed so easy.  I really didn't mind picking the fruit because I wasn't keeping any and therefore would not have more work to do with it.  After that we had a bonfire. I burned a big pile of white oak and black walnut.  I still have some left but it's now a manageable amount.  A couple years ago I had a 8 foot tall burdock plant full of the pesky burdock hitchikers.  I wasn't sure what to do with it.  I wish I had cut it before it got that tall and so full of stickers. I cut it off and burned it.  That turned out to be a mistake because now, all around my fire scar, I have burdock plants growing.  I tried breaking them off.  They don't break.  I tried bending them. They straightened right upright.  So I burned them. These younger burdock didn't have any seeds on them yet.  Despite being burned the stalks are still upright.  I even went so far as to put a hot brick on one stem to force it to the ground.  That didn't work either.  Those burdock plants are nasty.  As I wetted the ground around the fire ring the nasty burdock tripped me and I almost fell into the bonfire.  Twice.  I'm lucky I caught myself because falling into a bonfire would not be good.  I guess I will have to take a loppers to those burdock.  Sitting around the fire, eating ice cream, talking, watching damselflies and dragonflies, and listening to the birds sing made for a lovely holiday evening.. 

Happy 4th of July!

Happy 4th of July!

(There's no mail today, right?  I'm painting my mailbox.  I wrapped my neighbor's mailbox in plastic to protect it from any flying paint. I hope he doesn't mind).

(I see Uncle Sam is wearing pants with an elastic band that goes under the arch of the foot just like my snowpants I wore as a child).

Casket Arts

Last night Offspring #2 and I finally made it one of the first Thursday of the month open houses at the Casket Arts Building.  We've been planning to go for more than six months.  And last night we went.  I was curious what the inside of the building looked like.  As I imagined it had wide spaces, wooden floors, sliding doors on wheeled runners with counter weights, and open brick walls.  I tried to imagine what the place looked like when caskets were manufactured here but I couldn't.  The art was too distracting.  It looks like the building is full of artist studios.  We looked at some of the art and it was really good.  Paintings of people, animals and landscapes were impressive.  One fellow worked with wood.  The theme last night was hallway art.  The art including lighting, movement, projected images, and music.  There were some snacks on the first floor.  On third floor, in an artist's studio, we saw a big bowl or Doritos in the center of a table.  Was that art or were we supposed to eat them?  I'm not taking a chance so I abstained. We walked around on all four floors and got a glimpse of Offspring #2's house out of one window. In another room a group was doing improv.  We decided to stay. We were early so we watched the warm ups.  One warm up was called "Convergence."  We agreed this would be a fun game to lay with a group around a campfire or at a party.  You need at least 4 people to play this game.  Two people start out with two words.  I think in this example the words were bush and tree.  Two others volunteer to come up with a word that is between the two words.  They count and shout out their "inbetween" word at the same time.  The goal is that the two people will say the same word at the same time.  In this case it took 4 or 5 minutes when two people shouted out "Adam Sandler!" at the same time.  How they got from tree and shrub to Adam Sandler shows the complexities of the human mind.  They got close before when one said "General Mills" and another said "Captain Crunch," but their ideas separated again.  I enjoyed watching the improv warm up.  Improv takes a quick mind and much energy.  I can see how some people would think it was fun.  I'm glad we finally made it to an open house at the Casket Arts Building.

War and Remembrance

At the suggestion of Offspring #1 I read War and Remembrance by Herman Wouk.  The story was long but worth it.  This book is historical fiction about World War Two.  Three of the characters, Victor and his two sons, are in the United States Navy.  One is the captain of a destroyer, one a Navy pilot, and one a Navy officer on a submarine.  The story was fascinating, the dialogue was lively, and the characters were engaging.  I didn't like Rhoda (Victor's wife) very much.  This book gave me a new perspective on the war and how all encompassing it was.  Planes, ships and tanks moved around all over the entire globe during this conflict.  All the continents felt the effects of World War Two.  Historical fiction is a good medium for me because I can be entertained while learning. 

Spinning Plates

Whew, what a week.  On Sunday I thought I would have a good week because a. only four work days, b. many people out of town for the holiday and c. only a few meetings.  I thought I would be able to catch up on old projects and paperwork.  You know what they say - expectation is premeditated resentment.  I wish I had never expected an easy week but an easy week is definitely not what I'm having.  I am so busy juggling six meeting changes at a time with an average of 6 people's scheduled per meeting. Sometimes getting 6 people to agree on a same day and time is near impossible. I feel like that act I used to see on the Ed Sullivan show where a man puts a plate on top of a yard long stick and sets it to a spinning balance and proceeds to set six more plates to spinning.  He runs back and forth spinning plates and keeping them all going at the same time.  That is what I am doing at work - running between plates and keeping them spinning round and round.  On top of that difficult people are coming out of the woodwork this week.  I can deal with difficult people.  I know who they are and what to expect.  The difficult people who use extra sweet voices as they spew venom are the most difficult for me to stomach but I can stomach them.  Maybe the full moon is bringing the difficult people into focus.  I'm not sure.  But the next time I think I'm going to have an easy week I should remember to immediately push that thought out of my mind because nothing good will come of setting the bar that high.