Precription

Fire!

Ironically, a day after preaching about fire safety as Smokey the Bear, I set a fire in my yard.  I started out with 3 months worth of dryer lint and a home made fire starter. I spent 5 hours burning brush.  I finished burning all the wood trimmed off the white oak and the black walnut tree.  Plus I burned quite a bit of a cherrywood tree that fell ever so close to the canoe.  I had a big fire going that sent flames 4 feet into the air.  I wanted to clean up the big pile of brush in my driveway and I got that done plus more.  I enjoyed the wonderful summer evening tending the fire, listening to the birds.  If some of the pieces of wood are 15 feet long I set the center in the fire and as it burns I break it off and throw both ends in.  As darkness fell the insects got louder and more aggressive.  Burning brush is one of the most enjoyable chores for a home owner to complete.

Fair!

Yesterday I took my new hip to the fair and oh, what a different a new joint makes!  I walked for 11 1/2 hours and was still going strong when we left.  Here is a photo of a tree on the fairgrounds that is trying desperately to survive by spreading it's roots around.  The tree looked healthy so I guess the root system is working for it.  The weather was cool and cloudy which was perfect for a day at the Minnesota State fair. 

Offspring #2 and I like to volunteer to be Smokey the Bear.  Normally we choose a Sunday but all the Sundays were taken so we chose Friday instead.  Turns out the day we chose was Fire Prevention Day.  Lots of firefighters came and wanted their photo taken with Smokey which was very gratifying.  We had 3 shifts to cover instead of the usual 2 so I was Smokey for the first and final shift.  Offspring #2 was Smokey for the middle shift which included an appearance on the DNR main stage.  Here is Smokey clapping along to bluegrass music.  Oh, Smokey - you got the moves.  Shake it you big bear!

Smokey helped the DNR forest supervisor (whose first name of course is Forest) hand out a retirement plaque to Art who has fought forest fires for over 40 years.  Art has also chosen the Governor's Christmas tree for the past 30 years by scouting the state for the best one.With Smokey in presenting the plaque is the lieutenant Governor Tina Smith.  Smokey the Bear is WAY MORE popular than any politician and it was amusing to see the reaction of the crowds as the politician followed Smokey around trying to horn in on the glory and the fame. Being Smokey the Bear is great fun.  In my bear costume I received more than 100 hugs.  I high-fived 50 people (including one kid who had just pulled his finger out of his nose but what did I care?  I was wearing a bear paw).  I shook hands with 75 people (including one little tyke who's hand was covered in melted ice cream.  That didn't bother me at all because with the costume on I had no idea the kid's hand was dirty).  One three year old future bully greeting Smokey the Bear with a hard slug to Smokey's abdomen just below the belt.  The kid's father laughed when he saw it.  Who can explain this?  As usual, inside the costume, my normal reserved personality disappears and I become vivacious and provoking.  I walked up behind one white haired lady and laid my paw on her shoulder.  She scolded me something fierce.  Then she took me aside to a bench and proceeded to tell me the most pornographic story about a bear and a hunter that I have ever heard.  She told the story well and with much flair.  She took her time about it too.  If kids approached she shooed them away because the story was too filthy for young ears.  While entertaining, this was not my typical Smokey experience.  Generally Smokey the Bear is about hugging children and adults, waving, and having your photo taken.  Smokey means a lot to people and it's really an honor to play the role. . 

After three shifts of being Smokey we were ready to regain our normal personas and enjoy the fair.  We ate crepes, a burrito, coffee, my favorite Egyptian food-koshairi and a chocolate shake.  We posed with the Downton Abbey figures at the TPT booth, enjoyed seeing the blue and red ribbon winners, perused the art exhibits, bought some raw honey and a leather wallet, rode a boat through Ye Old Mill, saw friends and family, enjoyed an Eco experience and people watched to our heart's content. We had a good day at the fair..

Patting Myself On The Back

Today I created a report in Apricot for a mailing we do every other month to about 200 people.

I exported that Apricot report into Excel and filtered it by email.  I sent those who don't have email (about 45 people) to someone else to create labels.  I copied all those emails.

I pasted the emails into word and made them all hyperlinks.

I copied all the hyperlinked emails and pasted them into a blind carbon copy.  I attached a digitalized version of the four papers we were going to mail.  I added a explanatory note saying this was an experiment.  I took three deep breaths, told myself "You can do this!" and with one click of my right pointer finger I sent out an email to about 150 people.  I don't know why I was nervous.  What could go wrong except they didn't get the information?  I saved 150 stamps.  So far 10 people have emailed me back saying they got it and they appreciate the email rather than a paper copy.  I really wish my high school algebra teacher could see this accomplishment.  What he taught us in high school had nothing to do with what I did today.  His computer had a roll of 2 inch paper on the side and little holes were punctured leaving white dots of paper all over the floor.

Another One Bites The Dust

Before I went to bed last night I took a long look at my two chickens in their run.  I had thrown them a few black sunflower seeds and they were searching through the grass looking for a snack.  I thought how pretty the buff orpingtons looked with their full feathers and tufted lower legs.  I woke up to a noise about midnight.  I thought it sounded like a feral cat outside my window.  I hear them at night sometimes.  This cat was howling long and loud.  The moon was quite bright so I got up to take a couple tylenol.  I told the cat to be quiet and I went back to sleep.  This morning when I looked at the chicken coop I could see the water dish was turned over, one chicken was strutting around and there was something else inside the coop.  I walked there with fresh water before I went to work and found, to my horror, one live chicken and the carcass of one chicken who had been pretty much completely consumed sometime during the night.  Some animal had jiggled the chicken run enough that part of the top dropped down inside.  The animal went inside the coop, killed one chicken while it slept, and dragged the carcass out to the far end of the run where it ate it.  A blood trail led from the coop, across the grass, to the body.  Very little of the 8 pound chicken remained.  I saw feathers and a beak but not much else.  I couldn't leave my live chicken in the run with the carcass so I picked it up and tossed it away a few feet.  My chicken was murdered.  I didn't hear a peep from the chickens last night so I hope it died quickly before it completely came awake.  I don't know who did it.  I would think the fox would take the chicken and run; not eat it right there.  I guess it could have been a feral cat who did this but I've seen the feral cats and the chickens interact before without conflict.  If a feral cat killed the chicken, why would it howl?  This is the first time an animal broke into the chicken run from the top.  Years of moving the run to a fresh spot of earth has loosened the screws and made it somewhat rickety.  I am bummed to loose 50% of my chicken herd.  I feel bad for the lone chicken.  It could be a long, cold winter ahead for her. Such is the circle of life.  Owning chickens can bring drama to your life and it's all to be expected.  I started with 6 and now there is only 1 left. Since all the buff orpingtons looked alike I haven't been able to name them.  Now that there is only one left I can name her.  Robinson Crusoe seems appropriate.

Monitoring Streams

On Tuesdays I monitor two streams.   This one is Coon Creek at a pedestrian overpass just before the creek enters the Mississippi below the Coon Rapids Dam.  Today the water was exceptionally clear.  I could see my secchi disk at more than 100 cm.  The water was cold though, only 60 degrees.  When I dropped my bucket down off the bridge toward the water I scared a mallard who swam quickly downstream.

The second stream is the Rum River at the Pleasant Ave. bridge.  I'm looking at Highway 10 in the distance.  The water was clear to 83 cm. and the temperature was also 60 degrees.  I think today was my 16th visit of the season.

Judging Judging

I'm getting philosophical lately and thinking a lot about judging.  I have heard people say, "Don't judge me," or "I try not to judge."  I have even seen tattoos that say, "Don't judge me."  I have noticed that the people who don't want me to judge them dress or act in ways that draw my attention and cause me to judge them.  It is true.  I judge people.  Doesn't everybody?  I see a new person and I judge them.  I judge them to be male or female, old or young, and safe or unsafe.  My natural instinct is to judge others and I am not going to feel guilty for that.  If I didn't judge people I would be so trusting of strangers I would be incredibly vulnerable.  So to me this means it is acceptable to judge.  If I see another driver acting recklessly in the freeway I'm going to give them more space.  If a driver is driving sensibly I'll give them space but not as much as a crazy driver. Judging is part of my nature and vital to my survival. But if I hold firmly to a first impression and refuse to review new evidence that might shake that first impression, is that "bad" judging?  If I make assumptions based on my first impression, is that bad judging? Can there be good judging and bad judging?  I can't expect perfection.  All humans make mistakes.  If I don't want to be judged for my mistakes, I shouldn't judge others for their mistakes.  Believe me, I have made some doozies of mistakes. I don't have the answers.  I try to accept people as the complex beings that they are.  I try not to make assumptions.  I try to be open to new ideas.  What I do know is that I judge people and, after thinking it over, I'm fine with that. 

Canoeing

A liitle wind, a little rain, do we let that stop us from our annual trek down the scenic Saint Croix River?  Actually it was a lot of wind coming from the south.  Even though the Saint Croix River flows south the top of it was flowing north with us on it.  My kayak was breaking through some mighty tall waves.  Waves were crashing down on the bow of my boat and the spray was wetting my face and giant sun hat.  My giant sun hat was being blown backwards and the chin strap pulled on my neck. Despite the strong winds there must have been a bounty of insects above the water because I have never seen so many tree swallows flying over the water grabbing a snack.  We saw some bald eagles soaring as well.  Sometimes, during the trek between Taylors Falls and Osceola I would debate traveling the six hour trip to William O'Brien.  Then the wind would gust at me.  I could see and hear the wind coming toward me before I felt it push. I would have to paddle hard just not to go backwards and I would rule the six hour trip right out.  Still, I'm glad we went.  Our next trip will seem even more pleasant after this one.

Sherlock

A conversation at lunch the other day brought my mind to Sherlock.  Sherlock was a dog I once knew and admired.  I met him at work.  Many years ago I worked at a group home in Elk River.  The home had 6 men, 6 women, and one black lab named Sherlock.  Sherlock came with the job.  He even had his own med sheet for his daily heart worm pill.  He didn't like his chew-able medicine but he would eat it if I wrapped it in cheese. Two weekends per year he went duck hunting with the owner of the group home but the other 361 days a year he belonged to us.  What I liked most about Sherlock was that he acted like one of the staff.  If I was taking 12 people on a nature walk along the lake shore of the property, Sherlock would help.  If I gave his leash to the fastest walker, Sherlock would slow them down so they wouldn't get too far ahead of the group.  If I have his leash to the slow poke of the group, he would pull them faster so they wouldn't be left too far behind. Sherlock always came running when his name was called.  He didn't jump up on anyone.  Like all dogs, Sherlock was complex.  While roaming free he would scout the neighboring farms for aborted calves.  He would bring them home a quarter section at a time.  Super gross. Since Sherlock made my job easier, I was a fan of his.  After I left that job I would ask about him.  One winter I heard he was missing.  Sherlock was found in the spring.  He had probably fallen through the ice and was unable to crawl up out of the hole.  Poor Sherlock.  What a horrible way to go. 

Danger

This morning I cut up an ananas melon.  This is a melon I got from my CSA.  You don't usually see these in a grocery store because once they are picked they have to be eaten within a few days.  The flesh is whitish and it tastes and smells a little bit like pineapple.  I cut up the melon and before work I gave the chickens the rinds to peck at.  After work I came back to check on my chickens and give them their daily third of a cucumber to snack on. I saw one of the melon rinds was flesh side up and covered with a swarm of tiny bees.  I could hardly see the rind there were so many bees.  Golly, my poor chickens were caged with a swarm of bees.  The bees could escape but the chickens could not.  I decided right now would be a good time to move my chickens to a fresh spot of prairie.  I lured them inside the coop with the fresh cucumber.  I took out their food dish and locked them in the coop.  I moved the run over to fresh land and then rocked the chicken coop over into place.  When I had everything secure I let my girls out into their fresh run.  They are very excited to explore the new territory and taste all the fresh grass and weeds.  I don't know but would assume they were glad to escape the presence of so many bees too.

Annoying 7 Hour Road Trip

I just love, love, love this guy in this video timelapse of a 7 hour road trip.  I love his talent and his enthusiasm and his obvious passion for music and movement.  I love how he keeps on going and going despite his little sister's eye rolling.  Frankly he reminds me of myself, riding in the car with my teen aged offspring.  The difference would be I would be singing Michael Jackson or Prince or the Kit Kat commercial (give me a break!) or the T.J. Maxx commercial.  This is hilarious.  The look on his face when she finally gives in and claps to the theme song of "Friends" is priceless.

Bowling

Bowling was fun.  We were dry and warm which was nice.  A dozen people came and that was wonderful.  I chose an orange ball.  After admiring my classy bowling shoes I walked up the lane to throw the ball.  Did I remember how to do it?  Hold the ball in front of you.  Start off with the right foot take three steps while swinging the ball back on your right hand and then forward and let go.  I did that.  I didn't hit any pins.  On my second try I hit one pin.  Improvement!  Back at my seat someone mentioned the diamond marks on the lane.  Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.  I remember now.  Aim for the first diamond right of center.  My second frame was even better.  On the tenth frame something very strange happened.  I held the ball in front of me, I took three steps, swung the ball back and then forward and when I got there I was still at least 6 feet away from the start of the lane?  How did that happen?  I didn't let go of the ball.  I turned around to make another try.  And I got the giggles which were only encouraged by one of my sisters.  I tried it again.  Same thing happened.  On my third try for the first ball of the tenth frame I slowly, like Herman Munster, took one giant step forward, paused, took another giant step forward, paused, took the third giant step forward, swung the ball back and forward and let it go.  Gutter ball.  Whatever.  My score was way past my goal of 60.  I actually got 68 and was pretty proud of the fact that I am no better and nor worse of a bowler now than I was 20 years ago.  Now the lanes have the mph of each ball you throw.  I average about 8 mph.  I saw as high as 14.7 mph for other people.  We had fun together.  I noticed a bowling alley smell clinging to my clothes as I left.  The smell is a combination of wax and bare feet.  Good times.  Going bowling instead of canoeing gave me extra time.  I decided to use it wisely.  I realized there was no way I could eat a half a lug of peaches before they went bad so I used 9 of them to make peach jam.  I am done now and have to time to enjoy listening to the "pop" each lid makes as it seals.  Hearing a jam jar seal is one of my most favorite sounds on earth. 

Phooey

You look at the calendar for August and you randomly pick out a day to schedule some good old summertime fun.  What are the chances that the day turns out to be cold, windy and with intermittent rain falling at an angle towards you?  Unlikely, right?  That is what happened.  Will bowling be more fun than canoeing down the scenic Saint Croix River?  No doubt bowing can be great fun.  I wouldn't know because I haven't been bowling in about 15 years which tells you a lot about my feelings about bowling.  But it should be drier and warmer at least.  The important thing is to spend time and treasure that time with those you love no matter what the conditions.

Creative Problem Solving

http://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2015/aug/16/village-where-men-are-banned-womens-rights-kenya

The link above is to an article in The Guardian about a Kenyan village developed by a Kenyan woman for Kenyan women and children only.  Men are not allowed.  In this way the women are allowed a life free from genital mutilation, rape, and domestic violence.  Men are simply not allowed to live there.  The women live frugally by charging for tours of the village and by selling their jewelry.  Is this an extreme measure?  Yes, but these women live in a culture where female mutilation is a way of life.  Rape is part of life. Domestic violence is part of life.  Given the situation in which they live this solution seems reasonable.  And Kenya is one of the more developed nations in Africa.  Other countries are worse.  I have visited Samburu in the northern part of Kenya. I visited a village there and went inside a hut made of mud and dung.  I bought jewelry there.  I talked to a woman who said her girls were not going to be mutilated. Her girls were not going to be married as children.  Her girls were going to get an education.  I also met a pair of girls who were around 12 years old.  They smiled and acted shy.  They wore the cowrie shell headbands that indicated they were recently inducted into womanhood which was a misleading way of saying they recently were mutilated.  Meeting those girls and later learning about their headbands was  the most moving and upsetting part of my journey to Africa.  Will this segregated village work in the long run?  I don't know.  What happens when the male children grow up?  Are they cast out from the village?  Is this a sustainable option for a growing community?  Are things really better for the people in Kenya than they were in 2007 when I was there?

 

Defending Jacob

I read Defending Jacob by William Landay with some reluctance.  This is a crime novel.  Not my favorite.  The book includes a trial.  Also not my favorite unless it's Jodi Picoult.  But let me tell you, if you are waiting for a book with a surprising and most excellent finish, this is the book for you.  I haven't had this satisfying of a book finish in a long, long time.  While reading this book I really got the feeling I was being transported into the story. The character development was above average.  And Jacob?  The 13 year old protagonist?  Who can really know a 13 year old boy?  You can defend Jacob or you can think he's guilty but he remains a 13 year old boy.  He's a boy; not a man.

Summer

Nothing says summer more than a lug of Colorado peaches which I bought today at the grocery store.  Colorado peaches are top notch, smaller in size than the giant ones on the shelf but twice as tasty.  And they're never mealy.  I froze half the lug this afternoon.  My lug had 72 peaches in it.  Will I eat the other 36 fresh or should I make some jam?  I could make jam or pies or peach cobbler.  But the raw truth is I prefer my peaches fresh.  I'll eat them frozen or canned too but fresh is best.   

Crooked Lake

I was hot and I was sticky so I decided to get out on a lake and get some kayaking in.  I drove to Crooked Lake because it's convenient and the boat landing is sandy and easier for me to get in and out.  A strong breeze was coming right at me.  Once I got out of the pac man shaped lily pads the bow of the boat cut through the waves and the splashing felt good.  I paddled hard into the wind.  A boater was trying to pull a water skiier but the skiier kept falling off.  I hand to hand it to the fellow though because even after falling off ten times he kept getting up and giving it another go.  The waves from this boat gave me a pleasant rocking in the lake.  Some people say Crooked Lake is a dirty lake and they talk about it disparagingly.  From where I was sitting in my kayak, I would very much like to live on the body of water and see this scenery every day.  After a half hour of hard paddling I was to the far end of the lake.  From there I turned around and coasted in the wind back to the landing. 

On A Dime

 

This morning I opened the deck door to let a little fresh air into the house.  A buck looked up at the sound of the door opening.  He looked at me and I looked at him while thinking, "You evil Lyme Disease spreading son of a gun."  He turned his head and took a big bite of buckthorn into his mouth and started chewing.  My opinion changed.  Now this three point buck was a welcome, invasive species eating visitor.  Funny how opinions can turn on a dime.

Late Summer

I can tell we're in late summer. I know it is.  I know because of the food people are leaving on the break room table at work (cherry tomatoes, zucchini, and pears).  I can tell because I see the red winged blackbirds and swallows flocking up and getting ready to migrate.  I can tell because the frogs have quit croaking love songs and the crickets are, um, what are crickets talking about?  I don't know but they're super loud. I can tell by watching the monarch butterflies laying eggs on the milkweed plants.  I can tell because the size of the paper wasp nests are larger now.  I can tell by which wild flowers are blooming now.  And I can tell because of my itchy eyes and itchy ears.  Every fall the pollen from the weeds causes me to itch and squirm and scratch.  I rub my eyes.  I wiggle my ears because the feeling inside my ear canal is unbearable at times.  The skin on my ears starts to separate and peel off.  When I was a child I had this problem.  The doc gave me a salve for it.  (I hate that word salve!)  I was told that I couldn't go swimming because if I got my ears wet they would grow large like elephant ears.  I swallowed that tale and truly believed it for many years.  Over the years I have become a little less gullible but I continue with the itchy ears despite daily allergy pills.  My only complaint is that I haven't had enough fun yet for it to be late summer.  I have some great adventures planned for next week.  I plan to have so much fun that I am able to ignore the allergies.

A Wrinkle In Time

My book club read Madeline L'Engel's A Wrinkle in Time.  The story is about an awkward 13 year old girl who is smart but not in ways that are recognized in school.  She travels in time.  This book is usually marketed to kids but adults like it too.  It was published in 1962.  I wish I could time travel back to 1962 and give this book to myself because it may have changed my life.  Back in 1962 I didn't read any books that had a strong, smart female child who saves her family and the entire earth from death and destruction simply by being herself.  I heard, during our book club discussion, that one of the female astronauts brought a copy of this book into space because she found it inspirational.  When Madeline L'Engel heard about that she asked why she couldn't come along into space along with the book.  I thought this was a great children's story.  I wish I had read it earlier. 

Shoot! Too Late.

I knew my 3000th post was coming up and I was planning to write something about it; something poignant and inspirational.  But as I put up my salsa recipe I saw that it was my 3001st post.  So it's too late.  Three thousand is a big number though.  I really didn't think I'd be keeping this going as long as I have.  Blogging is a good outlet for me.  Thanks for reading!

Making Salsa

I picked up my CSA allotment tonight.  No beans this week!  I'm grateful for a week without beans.  I can handle kale every week and onions every week and even corn every week but not beans.  Tonight I got all the ingredients for making salsa.  I put a pot of water on the boil and dipped my tomatoes in the boiling water for a couple seconds so the skin would peel right off.  My Grandmother taught me to do that.  i thought about her tonight and I thought about how much I miss her.  I look down and realize I'm working in the kitchen in bare feet.  Just like Grandma did.  I look down again and realize I'm wearing a housecoat with snaps, vertical stripes and patch pockets on the front.  When did I turn into my Grandma? She wore house coats too.  It's scary sometimes.  I can't make salsa in my work clothes and a loose housecoat is cool and comfortable to wear in the summer.  No doubt my Grandma thought the same thing!  I am sure my Grandma peeled tomatoes and chopped onions, fresh herbs and green peppers but I don't remember her dicing jalapeno peppers or garlic.  Maybe she did. Making a batch or two of salsa is part of the summer season for me.  My house smells nice and spicy now. Here is the recipe for salsa that I got from my CSA:

Chunky Tomato Salsa
3 1/2 cups peeled chopped tomatoes (about 4 large)
1 large green pepper, chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, seeded and chopped (I kept the seeds in 1 - I like it hot)
1 tsp sugar (I didn't use sugar but squirted a squirt of honey instead)
1 garlic clove minced (I used two)
3/4 teaspoon cumin (I used a full teaspoon)
1 can (6 oz) tomato paste
1/4 C white vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar)
2 TB lemon juice
Directions:  In a large saucepan combine all the ingredients.  Stir.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer for 1 hour stirring frequently.  Refrigerate.
PS  In my CSA I got a few stems of fresh cilantro.  This recipe didn't call for cilantro but I threw some in anyway.  For me a recipe is more of a guideline than anything.
 

Angry Goldfinch

Last night I came upstairs to hear a loud and angry bird sound.  This bird was screaming and it sounded so close I thought it could be in the house.  My canary, Migwe, was enjoying some outdoor time on the deck. I moved slowly and carefully not wanting to scare this angry bird before I got a good look at it.  I slowly moved toward the deck door to see a male goldfinch perched on Migwe's cage, looking down, and screaming at my canary.  I knew it was male because of the bright yellow color.  Goldfinches and Migwe look similar.  Both are yellow and black but Migwe is slightly larger.  And he sings prettier too.  Why was this goldfinch so upset?  Did it perceive a threat to it's territory?  I guess it's possible I misunderstood and maybe I was hearing a friendly greeting.  But I think I can hear the difference between a greeting and an attacking sound.  The goldfinch flew off when it saw me watching but continued to scold from the basswood tree.  Migwe really seems to enjoy the stimulation of being outside.  How do I know this?  When I ask him if he wants to go outside he bends forward and extends his wings in the same way he does after I give him fresh food and water.  Fresh air and stimulation are probably good for him.  Sometimes I play youtube video's of Russian canary singing for him too.  He listens intently so I think it's good for him. 

Crystal Cave

Today I drove to Spring Valley, Wisconsin to tour Crystal Cave with a group of Master Naturalist.  We chose to go here because the brickyards in Saint Paul are still closed to the public

I like Crystal Cave better anyhow.  A little brown bat flew around us on all three of the levels.  I guess it couldn't find it's way out.

As a reminder, stalactites cling tight to the ceiling.  Stalagmites might grow taller if they don't get stepped on.

We had a picnic after our tour.  I swear the corn out here is 10 feet tall.

After lunch we went on a nature hike.  We found a paper wasp nest over the path.  The nest was crawling with 30 wasps.  This was the scariest thing I saw all day.

With woods, rolling hills, and pastoral views,  Wisconsin is so beautiful.  I cold definitely live here.

Jealous Much?

I wouldn't think I could be jealous of my very own 10 week old granddaughter.  But when I hear we can't skype because she is on a puffin cruise (a boat ride past a rocky island in the Puget Sound where puffins nest), well, that is a bit much for a bird watching Grandma to take.

70 Years Ago Today

Seventy years ago today the United Stated dropped the atom bomb on Hiroshima.  Did this bomb that instantly killed 60,000 people really save more people who would have been killed in a land assault?  Would the Japanese military government eventually have given in with the submarine blockade?  Was the bombing really necessary?  Have we learned anything?   

Making The Most of Summer

This morning I got ready for in time to enjoy a cup of coffee on the deck.  I sat in my chair and sipped the warm coffee.  I could feel the caffeine start. a warm feeling in my gut and radiate outward to my limbs waking me up from the inside out. This coffee is powerful stuff.  I listened to the fledgling chickadees.  These young birds don't really have the "chick-a-dee" song down.  To me they sound like zebra finches.  Years ago I had many zebra finches as pets and will always remember the sound they made - like an old fashioned cash register.  Mrs. Cardinal comes to the bird feeder.  Her red beak looks very pretty. When she leaves Mr. Cardinal comes and hops in the grass under the bird feeder.  He is so lovely in his vibrant red feathers with the brick red patch on his back.  He is so striking and colorful it seems like he belongs in Costa Rica or Brazil instead of Minnesota.  I think I'm lucky to see this bird 12 months out of the year.  A pair of goldfinches land on some tall seedy weeds in my garden.  I should have pulled those weeds out before they got 3 feet tall but now, at this moment, I'm glad those weeds are there because it's fun to see them bend with the weight of the goldfinches trying to eat the seeds off of them.  A chickadee comes and takes a drink of water from the bird bath right in front of me.  One of the goldfinches lands on the peanut feeder and finds it empty.  Goldfinches don't eat nuts, do they?  Seems like their little beak is made for tinier things than peanuts.  Two bluebirds fly through the yard.  Although I wasn't excited about doing it I'm glad I mowed the grass last night because I think it will rain today.The red shouldered hawk is talking up a storm in a distant yard.  My yard is full of birds and life.  I have so much to see and observe right from my very own deck. I have to go to work but I truly enjoyed those five minutes on the deck drinking my coffee.

The Fox Returns

My guard was gradually dropping. I haven't seen the fox around since April.  At that time the fox was a youngster with a lot of black  in it's fur.  I even considered letting the girls walk around this weekend.  That was until 5:40 a.m. this morning.  I heard my chickens calling, "Fox!"  See I can understand chicken squawking now.  I've learned their language and they were definitely yelling, "Fox!  Help!  Fox!"  I went to the window and yelled.  Of course the fox looked at me and didn't leave.  The fox had it's front feet up on the chicken house and was looking in the window of the chicken coop.  I went out to the deck.  Then the fox moved to the back of the yard where it waited until I got back into bed and settled under the covers before returning so the chickens could yell, "Fox!  Help!  Fox!"  This time I came to the deck armed with a BB and my handy dandy slingshot.  The fox saw the weapon and took off running.  I know this was a red fox because it had a white tip to the tail.  The tail I saw as the fox ran away had quite of bit of black in it.  Could this be the same fox from April only older and more mature?  I thought the fox vs chicken battle was nearing an end.  I see more rabbits in my neighborhood and the fox had vanished for three summer months.  I know a family a half mile away who lets their chickens walk around their yard so I thought maybe the fox had moved over there where food was easier to obtain.  But no, I still need to worry about foxes eating my chickens.  It's best if my girls remain inside the run for the time being.

1972

In 1972 I probably would have ordered a filet-o-fish and hot apple pie.  Times have changed!

Rabbit

For 5 years I planned to make a mosaic picture.  I had the frame sitting next to my microwave all this time.  This year, just two days before the recipient's birthday, I decided now was the time to get to it.  I got this drawing and decided to work off of it.  My plan was to make the rabbit body solid and not include those circles you see in the drawing.

I looked at what glass I had available.  I had orange pieces of glass already cut into squares.  I would have to cut my own yellow.  I decided to make the yellow glass pieces larger because the yellow glass was so pretty and to set the sun apart from the other items in the picture.  Larger pieces would add variety too.  That round piece above the sun is a reflection of my kitchen light.

I added some skinny green pieces for the grass.  I didn't fill in all the grass but enough to make a hint of long grass.

I had a supply of two colors of blue glass.  I thought about making the darker blue at the top or the bottom to simulate a sunset but chose to mix it up instead.  I glued the pieces down by starting at the margin of the sun and making concentric circles.

When it was all done I let the pieces dry overnight and applied a charcoal colored grout the next day.  I think it turned out pretty well.  In fact I thought about keeping it for myself.  But no, I made this for someone that I love and I wanted her to have it.  I love mosaics.  I have loved them since elementary school.  Making this leaping rabbit was relaxing and calming and it gave me a chance to focus my mind in a way that is different for me compared to what I usually do.

Never Enjoyed A Bloody Mary More Than This One

Three of us went to Betty Danger's Country Club for a well deserved lunch after a morning of moving heavy couches here and there.  One friend asked for a bloody mary but didn't have her identification with her (because she was helping us move things).  So I offered to get one for her. I had my id with me.  The waitress accepted my order but gave us a lecture that I couldn't give the bloody mary to the woman who wanted it because she (the waitress) could get into trouble..  She added that if she saw the woman drinking the bloody mary she would have to ask for it back.  Well, awkward!  Our orders arrived.  I slid the bloody mary in her direction.  I didn't want it.  Offspring #2 was driving so she didn't want it.  The other furniture mover was the one who wanted it but now she didn't want it because she didn't want to get the waitress in trouble.  She also didn't want to not drink it.  She was conflicted. After she drank her coffee she passed me her cup and when the waitress was away I poured bloody mary into her coffee cup.  We felt a little naughty.  The bloody mary drinker got the giggles.  She explained that whenever she does anything wrong she gets the giggles.  She can't help herself.  I told her she would make a terrible criminal.  Then I caught her giggles.  And Offspring #2 was overcome with giggles.  Finally I asked what we were giggling about.  All three of us were old enough to drink.  And we fully intended to pay for this bloody mary.  So what, exactly, were we doing wrong?  As we ate our delicious lunches (the cornbread was out of this world) and watched other diners revolving in the ferris wheel, we kept up the giggling.  I poured more of the bloody mary in her coffee cup.  When the waitress made the next round (and checked up on who was drinking what we thought) the bloody mary glass was nearly empty except for the celery stick.    When the waitress came back the bloody mary glass was half full because the other woman felt too guilty to drink anymore and I poured it from her coffee cup back into the bloody mary glass.  When the waitress came back with the check the bloody mary glass was entirely full because I poured the beer chaser into it.  What must she have thought?  Despite the tension about the bloody mary we did have a wonderful outdoor lunch with delicious food.  This was the best bloody mary I (n)ever had.

Thirty?!

Moments

I work with a lot of people during the week.  We see each other in the morning, at lunch, and say good bye at the end of the day.  We spend time together but do we really know each other?  One woman I work with said she would like it if I cam to see a show she choreographed and danced in  I knew she was a coach for a local high school dance line but I did not know she choreographed musicals and danced in them. She said it was the Rarig Center and that sealed it for me.  I have wanted to see a performance at the Rarig Center for two years - ever since Offspring #2 an I walked by it one day.  So we went to the fringe festival event at the Rarig Center tonight.  Right from the start I knew this was going to be a different experience.  The fringe festival had 8 shows going at the same time tonight.  The crowd that gathered to buy tickets were an artsy group.  I could tell they were artsy by the way they dressed.  Artsy people wear classy clothes, asymmetrical haircuts, and chunky jewelry.  The show we saw was "Moments. : The Musical Told Through A Shattered Lens."  The show consisted of 12 songs and my friend danced in 6 of the songs.  The musical was about love and the barriers to love.  This was an adult dance.  Sometimes I was confused and sometimes I totally understood.  Geez, my friend can dance!  My joints ached just watching her on stage leaping and twirling, doing cartwheels and the splits, jumping up on guys and getting carried around in the air.  Who would have thought she did this kind of thing after work?  Not me.  I will look at her much differently from now on.