I Have Proof!

Today, on my noon time walk with a person with Autism, I chatted.  Poor guy.  He's not verbal. I have no idea if my chatter bothers him or soothes him.  It's not that I talk all the time but if I see a pileated woodpecker close by or a pair of mallards, I am gonna say something.  "Help me find some pussy willows!" I challenge him.  I know we found some near here last year.  He doesn't answer.  He stops walking and turns his head.  I look where he is looking and, lo and behold, pussy willows!  Maybe he understood me.  I will never know for sure. I thank him and rip off a branch.  Ever since I was a child marching around the swamp behind my house, I always search for pussy willows in the spring.  Pussy willows are as exciting to me as free beer would be to others.  So, now, the weather doesn't matter. Was there a cloud 20 miles long and shaped like a loaf of French bread moving to the west on my drive home tonight? Yes, there was that cloud and it's weird that it's moving west because most of our weather has already entertained people in the Dakotas before it gets to us. I am not accustomed to Wisconsin weather. Was it raining when I left the gym after work? Yes.  Was it hailing by the time I commuted into the city in which I live? Yes and that freaks me out because there are plenty of hail dents in my old blue civic but none in my yellow Fit yet.   Did the hail turn to snow by the time I reached my street?  Yes and it was accumulating.  ALL of that doesn't matter.  I found a pussy willow.  Pussy willows never lie.  Spring is here.

Kind or Mean?

Is kind the opposite of mean?  Is mean the opposite of kind?  I try not to think in terms of black and white but I have pondered this question for about a week now.  What can appear to be kind can actually be a little bit mean.  In the employment business for example, if an employee takes something that does not belong to them, are you really doing them any favors when you say, "That is ok.  I don't mind."  How can that employee learn to be a good employee if they don't get some honest feedback on what is and what is not acceptable at work? Or say someone is rude to you.  You know their rudeness is a reflection of them and not you.  Is it kind to mark it up to them having a bad day and letting it go without comment? Or would it be kinder to call that person on their behavior and let them know in no uncertain terms that their behavior is not acceptable (and setting the stage for all future interactions between you and them)?  What can appear to be mean can actually be kind.  A child (of any height or age) has a tantrum.  You know what they want.  You know what would calm them down and make them stop crying.  Yet you insist they use their words and ask for what they want in an appropriate fashion.  That may look mean but in actuality, be a kindness. Mean or kind - what are those things anyway?  They are not concrete items I can put in a box.  A person can judge me for being mean or kind and I can judge another person for being mean or kind.  The truth of the matter is, things are complicated. How a human reacts to a situation depends on their truth, their knowledge, their heart.  I will say, however, that I have never, and will never hit a dog with a stick (unless it has rabies and is coming near to someone that I love.)  

The Water Diviner

Are you in the mood for a great foreign film about World War One from the Australian perspective?  Look no further.  Rent or buy or borrow The Water Diviner.  Russell Crow acts and directs in this movie about an Australian father who travels to Turkey in search of his three sons lost in the war.  Based on true facts this movie will take you away from your mundane life (no judgement) to an earlier time, more than 100 years ago.  When his boys are young he reads them stories about Aladdin and the magic carpet ride.  That magic carpet, only a story in a book, is as real as anything else.  Great movie.  Prepare by having tissue nearby.

Helping A Person Gives Me Power!

Three nights this week I have had dreams I didn't like.  No, no nightmares.  Nothing scary.  But the dreams were about people who are not in my life and problems that are not problems anymore so that was no fun. So I asked my BFF to assign me a dream for tonight. She's a great friend and is always ready to lend a helping hand. Jeez Louise! How long has she been waiting for me to ask this question?  Is she giving me a dream assignment or the plots for the next  novels I intend to write?  Here is her answer:  Your dream tonight. You will be granted one power of your choice and can only be kept charged by Helping a person lost in life. (will you have to reunite them with life, family, job, a home, what a great reunion and party it could be) Second you get to take the family on a trip with no boundaries and third you have to do something crazy (think outside of the box)

For crying out loud!  She gave me such a large assignment. How can I remember all that and still go to sleep?  I decided to just go with the first suggestion.  Turns out planting dreams can work. I had a wonderful night of sleep and a truly incredible dream.  I was granted the power of flight.  The strange thing about it was I had no control over when the power came or left me. When I helped someone (and sometimes my help was just acting naturally and not an intentional act) my body morphed into a 2 inch version of me and if I put my right hand into a fist above my head, I could take off flying around in the air like Mighty Mouse.  I

wasn't a rodent and I wasn't wearing a cape and I didn't have big ears but I could fly like Mighty Mouse. How long I could fly depended on the significance of my help but it took a few times of morphing into a flying person before I figured that out.  The flying didn't last long enough for me to get tired of it.  I would be buzzing around the room or the yard or where ever I completed a helpful act and pretty soon I could feel my body enlarging.  I would aim down toward the ground and every time I morphed back into my real self I just had to step down an inch or two before the ability to fly was completely gone.  Then, in my dream, I would go back to living my life when suddenly I was helpful and back to flying I went.  There was never a moment where I could fly that I didn't fly.  I think tonight I will try the second suggestion of taking the family on a trip with no boundaries.  What does that even mean - no boundaries?  No physical boundaries?  Political boundaries?  I guess it can mean whatever my exhausted Friday night brain takes me.

The Shadow Of The Wind

My library recommended this book on their website.  As I started reading The Shadow Of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon I read about someone trying to burn all the books written by a certain author.  I thought the book would be about censorship and I can see librarians getting on the anti-censorship bandwagon.  But I was wrong.  There is a secret book depository with books that others have tried to get rid of but the story is much more complex than simple censorship.  Ten year old Daniel reads a book by an author named Carax.  He is enchanted and tries, over the next seven years to find out all he can about the fellow named Carax.  As the years progress Daniel's own life seems to mirror the novel written by Carax.  You would never guess who is trying to burn all the Carax books.  This story is an international best seller.  My edition was translated from Spanish and it was a spell binding story that happened in the town of Barcelona.  I liked Daniel and I liked other characters too but my favorite was Fermin Romero de Torres.  Daniel meets Fermin when he is a homeless alcoholic in a back alley.  He brings him home, he cleans him up, he gets Fermin a job, and he has the most interesting, most valuable and bravest friend Daniel could ever hope to get.

What Season Is It Anyway?

On my commute home I always cross the Rum River.  Today I saw open water on the river for the first time in a long time.  Every day this week the ice turned a darker shade of grey (here is an innocent reference to shades of Grey!  Cuz, gross - take an innocent color and make it nasty) and today the ice broke up and fell over the dam in Anoka.  Just a few weeks ago I heard snowmobiles racing up and down the river and making as much noise as a highway.  I would really like to see the ice go out sometime.  But the weather, well, the weather is incredible.  Ephemeral pools are everywhere.  This past weekend I thought about burning my pile of brush but the ephemeral pool to get there was deeper than my wellies. Today on my lunch time walk to Laddie Lake we were honored to see three broad winged hawks circling above the oak forest.  I'm not 100% on raptor identification but I know they weren't eagles and they weren't red tailed hawks and they weren't red shouldered hawks.  I am 85% sure these three were broad hawks dancing high above the oak canopy.  The giant circles these hawks formed in the sky were totally awesome to witness.  People are seeing tree frogs clinging to their windows. Some birders have seen killdeer and sand hill cranes.  A woman I work with today said we are expecting 14 inches of snow this Friday.  On the one hand I am happy for my cross country ski friends and my snowmobile friends.  On the other hand I honestly would prefer more of this 60 degree weather.  Whatever happens, I am adaptable. I'll get through it.  Like Darwin says, "It's not the strongest species that survives but the most adaptable."

Another Awkward Moment Identified

via GIPHY

Today at work we had a series of inservices.  I wasn't the earliest one to get there so my seat turned out to be in front.  When am I gonna learn to come early?  The first two sessions were quick and informative.  The third session was given my a motivational speaker who has a life coaching business on the side.  I believe she also has attention deficient disorder, hyperactivity, or else maybe she took something that is possibly not legal this morning.  I don't know.  She talked fast and she talked loud. Before the meeting started she approached me and asked me how long the session should last.  I didn't respond quick enough so she offered "15 minutes?  30 minutes?  90 minutes?  Three hours?"  Well, she asked me.  I quickly said 15 minutes before her options got any longer.  She laughed and asked if it would be ok if she just talked fast enough so it seemed like 15 minutes.  Again. She asked me.  I wasn't trying to please her.  I just gave her the honest truth.  I would not offer it unsolicited. I said it would be best if she kept it to 15 minutes.  I truly didn't know we were paying her for 90 minutes.  She laughed and moved away.  But she paid me back later.  An hour later she was talking about how we pay more attention to negative words than positive words.  She was encouraging us to make a positive impact on the world. She walked right up to me, bent over, put her hand on my shoulder, got in my face and said, "Sue."  How did she know my name?  I don't know.  But she went on, "I think you are a lovely person.  I appreciate all the hard work that you do.  You are very special and you make a huge positive impact on the world.  I know you don't hear it enough but thank you, thank YOU Sue, for all that you do.  I notice how great that you are and I want you to know that I see you and I acknowledge your work.  Keep up the good work."  I respond, "Uhhhh, this is awkward."  That was the extent of my social graces - uhhhh, this is awkward.  Then she goes on!  She puts her hand back on my shoulder and says, "Yes, I know this is awkward for you but that is because we don't take enough time out of our day to recognize the truly wonderful people we have in our lives.  We need to recognize the goodness in each other and tell others how truly wonderful they are."  Her eyes were like 8 inches from my eyes.  She was very much invading my personal bubble. By this time I learned my lesson.  I wasn't saying another word to this motivational speaker, who, by the way, just happened to have many copies of the three life coaching books she wrote for sale on the table.  The thing is, she can't tell by the clothes I wear or the smile on my face if I didn't murder someone this weekend and just haven't been caught yet.  After the meeting five people approached me about it and told me how bad they felt for me but were still glad she did it to me and not them.  LOL!  What I took away is that if your compliment isn't sincere it's not worth saying.  And don't invade people's bubbles!

Sunday Morning

I awoke this morning to the sound of cardinals calling.  I believe they nest in the spruce tree close to my bedroom window.  Cardinals have such a sweet song.  This cardinal had a song that started with four whistles and then a fast chirrping like a machine gun. The first whistle rose at the end as if the bird was asking a question.  I thought it was saying, "Ready? One! Two! Three! Ratatatatatatatatat!" The bird repeated this message a dozen times.  Then it either moved to another branch or turned it's head away from me because now the song wasn't nearly so loud.  Plus the first whistle was dropped so I heard, "One! Two! Three! Ratatatatatatat!"  Only one bird was talking this morning.  Why so loud Mr. or Mrs. Cardinal?  To whom do you sing?  How does your singing benefit you because it looks to me like a lot of energy goes into these songs plus the cardinal is giving away it's location.  Given the cardinal is such a bright color of red all year long they are pretty careful about being out in the open.  I see them come to my feeders only at dawn and dusk.  Usually I see the male come first while the female waits in a nearby tree.  When he is done he stands guard in the tree while she eats.  Cardinals sure are beautiful birds.

Oaks Boost My Self Confidence

Today was a big day for me. On my lunch time walk with persons with disabilities, I went on my old route around Laddie Lake in Blaine.  The last time I took this route was, I don't know exactly, but I believe it was April or May.  Weather wasn't the reason we quit walking Laddie Lake. My arthritis was the reason.  I had to admit the pain of the outing was too much for me.  When pain screamed loud enough to me we started taking shorter walks around the parking lot.  In November I had that pain surgically removed.  Every day I am closer to full recovery.  Today I resumed our walk around Laddie Lake.  After ten or eleven months not much had changed.  Today was a beautiful day.  Temperatures reached into the 60's.  I was walking with two handsome younger men.  Both men have dimples but the dimples don't show all the time.  Today the dimples were showing.  I could see the dimples on the ambulatory fellow more than the fellow in the wheelchair (because I was pushing him) but all the dimples were showing when I looked. What a lovely walk!  Chickadees were singing their love songs.  What hit me most were the oak trees.  Winter allows the beauty of the oak branches to shine. Their crooked branches were beautiful against the intensely blue sky.  Has the sky ever been so blue before?  All the oak tree gnarly knobs are obvious.   The deep grooves in the bark are not symmetrical.  Unlike the standards for human beauty, asymmetrical in oaks is expected and appreciated.  As we walked through the Blaine woods admiring the oak trees, I could only rejoice in the fact that oaks make me feel better about my scars, my asymmetry, and basically myself.  Oaks boost my self confidence!  I am gnarly. I am asymmetrical.  I have lumps and bumps.  I am as beautiful as an oak!

The Buried Giant

What happens when a buried giant wakes up?  I really don't know because I've never seen it happen but I would predict mayhem.  I had no idea when I picked this book off the shelf at the library that I was holding in my hand one of my favorite ten books I have ever read.  I recognized Kazuo Ishiguro because he is the author of Never Let Me Go and I loved Never Let Me Go.  The Buried Giant is set in Briton in the sixth or seventh century.  Axl and Beatrice are an elderly couple living in the country.  They go on a journey to find their son.  Their memories are not clear. No one's memories are clear.  Later we find out the reason no one's memories are clear involve a dragon and Merlin the magician. This is a fantasy novel.  There is a dragon and pixies and ogres.  Is it such a crazy fantasy to restore peace to a war torn region by clouding the memory of everyone in the land?  If people can't remember the war long enough, maybe they desire for revenge and retribution will dissolve?  I don't think it's any crazier than performing acts of revenge and retribution and waging more war.  A good book is one that remains in my mind even when I 'm not reading it and this book definitely did that to me.  I longed to get back to The Buried Giant every time I had to put it down.

Immigration

With all the news and my recent genetic heritage test, immigration has been on my mind lately.  Here is an informative demonstration of immigration to the United States.  Click on the link and you will learn more about immigration between 1820 and the present day. Looks like everybody lands in Kansas! You'd think Kansas would be full by now.

A Picture from Three Years Ago

Here I am in a photo from a bird hike on the North Shore three years ago.  I am holding a plate of lake ice in front of my face. It was cold that day.  The high was about -20 F. Looking at it again now, I noticed something different.  I seem to have that sparkle in my teeth that you get when chewing Orbit gum!

Survival and Outdoor Skills

Last night my master naturalist group had a speaker talking about cold weather survival.  He talked about his experience at winter camping, long backpacking trips to Alaska and Maine, canoe trips through white water, guiding students, and dog sledding with the Boy Scouts. He has his own guiding company called Bull Moose Patrol.  Building campfires in a snowy environment is different than building a campfire on solid dry ground.  He suggested an easy fire starter of immersing pure cotton balls in Vaseline and throwing them into a small container for instant flame and fuel. When it comes time to make a fire, just fluff up that cotton ball and light it up.  Or, put that cotton ball into a tin foil bowl and it will burn even longer. He had tips for building snow beds to stay out of the wind at night.  He suggested we take wilderness first aid classes. I was most interested in the clothing for cold weather.  His advice is to separate your options between dry cold and wet cold.  A dry cold is when the weather stays below 15 to 20 degrees Farenheit.  A wet cold is between 15 and 50 degrees.  Hypothermia is more of an issue in a wet cold.  Frostbite is more of an issue in a dry cold.  He suggests we wear 3 layers in both kinds of cold weather.  To remember how to dress remember the three w's-wick, warm and wind.  The layer next to the skin should wick the sweat and moisture away from our skin. The next layer is to keep your warm and the last layer is to keep the wind away from you.  Both wool and synthetic wicking material can wick moisture away from the skin.  Merino wool is less scratchy that other wools.  But in wet cold synthetic might be a better choice as it dries more quickly.  However quick dry fabric is very flammable if you are working around a campfire or camp stove.  Also, synthetic wicking underwear can get quite smelly.  In a dry cold, wool might be a better choice.  However, if you do wear wool wicking underwear, be sure to take it off at night so the moisture caught inside each hollow wool fiber has a chance to dry out.  For the warming layer, wool is again very warm and so is down and so is fleece and so is down.  But if you're wet, down is useless.  Better to wear fleece.  A fleece shirt and be wrung out by hand and whipped around in the air a couple times and the rest of the moisture can be removed by your own body heat. A rain jacket offers good protection from the wind but it can also trap moisture close to you that will make you feel cold.  Some rain jackets have pit zips and other vents.  He made the point that to survive you should observe and make adjustments as your body adjusts to the cold and your exertion level. What is fine now may not be fine ten minutes from now.  There are times when even cotton is a good choice. And then we talked about boots and liners.  This guy had examples of everything from mukluks to bunny boots to sorrels and more. He buys some things at Sportsman's Guide in Saint Paul but also Craig's list and Amazon.  He recommends military surplus but especially Swiss military surplus.  Earth tones help an outdoor person blend into the environment is a less disruptive way but if you want to be rescued royal blue gets the most attention from rescuers. Leaving that nature center I knew a lot more about winter survival than I did walking in! 

Finding Laura Buggs

My book club discussed Finding Laura Buggs, a mystery novel set in Saint Paul in 1949 written by Stanley Gordon West.  The author is a pastor and as he writes as if a girl in high school would talk we got that feeling that he didn't really know how a high school girl would talk.  Sandy Meyer, the main character, seemed especially innocent even for 1949. But then Sandy would do crazy stuff such as changing places with her friends in a moving vehicle going down University Avenue.  People from the front seat end up in the back seat and vice versa while the car is in motion. We had a long talk about how that was even possible but could maybe picture it with running boards and suicide car doors it could work.  Sandy is looking for her birth mother.  She rides the street car all over Saint Paul and Minneapolis searching for clues.  There is a disconnect from the first three quarters of the book and the last quarter.  In the first three quarters we read about walking home from school, pranks on teachers (some of which were really good), basketball game scores, and who danced with who at the school dance. In the last quarter is treachery and danger and crime and gruesome horror.  I think a person from the city of Saint Paul would enjoy this book more because they are familiar with the street names, the corners of our town, local restaurants (Mickey's Diner is still open), and the history of the time.  If a reader is not from Saint Paul I'm not sure they'd enjoy it very much. 

A Cuckoo Maran's Big Day

I checked on my chickens this morning and found a dark brown egg in the corner of the coop.  This is dawn.  We're still shy of the 7 o'clock hour.  The shell is dark brown so of my 7 chickens, I know one of my 3 Cuckoo Marans laid this egg.  The Americaunas would have laid an egg with a green shell. My Buff Oprington would have laid an egg with a tan shell. The last time I checked this coop was 15 hours ago so this egg is 15 hours or less old and it is stone cold.  So the newly female Cuckoo Maran is not a broody chicken.  And when I think about it, that does make sense.  Broodiness (tendency to tend one's eggs) does not come on with the first ovulation.  Suddenly I remember my own first ovulation.  No, seriously, this could have been a sit-com episode.  I was 11 and a half years old, ahead of my time hormanally but in no other way .  So I give my Mom credit.  She might have expected another year or two of innocence would be just fine.  I was still playing with paper dolls (and still mad because my little sister got Hayley Mills and I got Lana Turner; so wanted Hayley Mills instead).  I wake up an innocent girl.  Normally I am a laid back person but when I find evidence of my own first ovulation I scream, literally scream, "MOM!"  For sure this is a sign that I, at only 11 and a half years old, am dying.  "MOM!" I scream again for surely dying persons deserve their mother's full attention.  I know my Mom is busy.  I am well aware I am not the only kid. I scream at the top of my lungs.  I am hysterical as a person who thinks she is close to death would be.  My Mom explains a few things about being a woman.  My crying, still interrupted by hiccups, slows down.  Science is helpful.  Knowledge is good.  She shows me some female hygiene equipment.  My mood rides that roller coaster from hysteria to calm acceptance until this sentence makes my mood take a right turn into hysteria again: "And this will happen every  month."  WHAT?  ARE YOU FU*****NG KIDDING ME?  WHY HAVE I NEVER HEARD OF THIS BEFORE?  The 11 and a half year old really had no idea.  I laugh now but I was really upset that day.  I'll never forget my outrage. I vowed to share all science stuff as much as I could. That memory gives me some forgiveness for a "less than broody Cuckoo Maran."  

I Have Always Relied On The Kindness of Strangers

On Sunday night I had a late errand so I wanted to stay up later than usual. Offspring #2 was kind enough to help me out by organizing a team to play trivia at Surly Brewery on Sunday night.  Such a lucky Mom am I; not lucky enough to win but lucky to hang out and have a good time and actually know a few trivial things.  Surly Brewery has a nice room for drinking beer and eating and playing trivia.  I’m not a beer drinker but the food was good.  One category was television grandmothers.  How useful is it to know Jacquelyn Bouviant was Marge Simpson’s mother?  Or that Thelma Harper was the grandmother on Mama’s Family?  Not that useful unless you are playing trivia.  Actually Thelma Harper took me a long time.  One member of our group remembered a young woman, wearing a wig, acting like an old person.  I’ve watched a lot of television in my day but after pondering on it I first thought of Carol Burnet and eventually Mama’s Family.  The trivia fact that I am helped with and am most proud of is from what 1949 play did these words (say it out loud in a breathy Southern accent-I have always relied on the kindness of strangers) come from?  That line plus the yelling of the name Stella loudly and repeatedly could only come from A Streetcar Named Desire. Score another one for me! One of the questions was a photo.  We were supposed to name the movie.  I had inkling.  First I thought of shame.  Then I thought of bondage. Then I thought of 50 Shades of Grey but I knew that wasn’t right.  Then I thought of sadism.  “What is another, less commonly used word for sadism?” I asked my companions.  Yeah, I did that.  Awkward much?  Then I said no, it’s a name.  It’s a man’s name.  Offspring asked me if I was thinking of the Marquis de Sade.  Yes I answered exuberantly. And while it was true the movie was about him, the name of the movie is actually Quills so we didn’t get that point.  I learned trivia is a fun activity!  Too bad it’s not available earlier in the day like bingo.  I could do this more often if I didn’t have to stay up so late.

Hot Metal Pour

Last weekend Offspring #2 and I spent 3 hours designing our sculptures by digging into sand/resin blocks with spoons and dental picks. I tried to make a design of a chickadee with the words "Hope is a thing like a feather" below it.  Offspring #2 went for an image of a raven.  We came back yesterday for the big pour at Franconia Sculpture Park.  The weather was awesome so we didn't mind standing around for a couple hours watching cast iron being melted and poured into our molds.  Some of the people working the big pour are interns here at Franconia Park and some are metal art students at the University of Minnesota.  This event is the largest metal pour in the Midwestern United States. For safety reasons the work area was roped off to keep the visitors away.  I'd say there were a couple hundred visitors at Franconia today.  I could not actually tell which mold was mine because I was so far away.

Here are the students lifting a bucket full of molten cast iron off the stove.  They move in unison like dancers.  Any trips or falls today could be disastrous.  They wear protective clothing include heat shields for their faces.  I could feel the heat from those iron melting cookers from 20 feet away.  I can not imagine being the one who has to climb 3 stairs to  pour more coke or more iron chips into that contraption.

My mold turned out pretty good for a first try.  My chickadee looked pretty good and I could read all the words I etched.  None of the letters came out backwards.

Offspring #2's raven came out very well too!

Perceptions

Yesterday I spent several hours at Franconia Sculpture park near Taylors Falls.  I've been there many times before.  I think the park has been there for 20 years or so.  Sometimes, before or after canoeing the Saint Croix river we would stop there and look around.  The park has no admission fee and we always saw something mind-provoking and incredible.  Crazy stuff is there at this sculpture park.  I remember going there once with a girlfriend.  We saw a giant horse.  This horse was as tall as a two story house.  Between the horse's rear legs was a fat rope dangling down.  My friend walked toward that rope. "Don't pull that rope!" I yelled at her.  I don't know but every fiber of my being was pretty sure it is not a good idea to pull on a rope dangling between a giant horses rear legs.  Did she listen?  No.  She pulled the rope.  Two previously unnoticed wings (was I that focused on the rope?) lifted up from the sides of the horse changing it from a regular giant horse to a Pegasus. I admit I was wrong about the rope. The horse is gone now and they have new stuff there.  They had a teeter totter that people could actually use.  One end of the teeter totter was out in the open air and the other end was inside a small black building with black curtains covering the openings.  So as you teeter-tottered with your partner, you could not actually see who was on the other end.  So if you were partnering with an imaginative friend (like one who would pull the rope on a horse) you might end up with a crazy experience.  

Like this colorful mirrored wall.  Maybe you can see the reflection of my green coat near the center.  I tried to get into as many mirror blocks as possible.

Like a lot of stuff there, I don't really know what it is but it is big!

Franconia sculpture park is a mind-bending kind of place.  You walk around and see so many strange things you don't even remember what normal was.  Did I see 3 people sitting in the snow by that house?  Yes, I guess I did.  Three people sculptures that is.

This sculpture is in the "Iron Garden."  Everything in the Iron Garden is made out of iron including this sculpture.  From the front it looks like a mirror.  From behind two sinewy human legs wearing army boots appear to struggle to keep this mirror moving forward.

And this plush chair, coffee table and television set?  All made out of iron.  Wow! That had to be a gigantic mold for these items.  How did they even move them?  How many pints of hot molten iron does it take for one plush chair?

This sculpture has deer or maybe elk in it but also wolves and also birds of prey.  Depending on where you stand and how close you get, the images change from one to another.  Each sculpture has a little information about the artist and a description of the work but I like to figure it out for myself before I read the description.  The park has a residence for the art interns.  Some of the funding comes from the Franconia Sculpture Park supporters, the National Endowment for the Arts, the State of Minnesota Legacy Fund, regional art boards and private sponsorships.  You can learn more about it at Franconia.org

My Advice For Today?

Don't be a dick.  (Most sincere apologies to all the Orange-Sue readers named Dick).

Dean's List

My niece made the Dean's list at her college.  That means I am related to someone who made the Dean's list.  If my offspring ever made the Dean's list I have forgotten it or maybe they didn't tell me.  I, myself, never made the Dean's list.  I graduated with honors from Saint Cloud State University but, I don't know, did we have Deans?  I do remember one time in 9th grade at Parkview Middle School a letter came home from the school addressed to my parents. My parents ceremoniously opened it in front of me.  Sweating bullets I was, sweating actual beads of sweat because this was my first year of public school since kindergarten and I had no idea what I was in for.  The letter was from the ninth grade social skills teacher.  On the top were gold letters proclaiming "Letter of Commendation."  That was not reassuring to me.  Commendation and Condemnation are pretty close as far as letters go and also length of the word and I was assuming the worst. Private school never sent letters of commendation and I wasn't familiar with them.  Condemnation was a more common theme in private school. Even though I was reassured, my mood had slipped so low before I understood that I ended up more traumatized than flattered. LOL. Silly ninth grade me! What was my ninth grade teacher's name?  I don't even remember.  But I thank him for seeing the marvelous in me before I could see it myself.

Through No Fault Of My Own

This little book Through No Fault of My Own is a book anyone from Saint Paul ought to read. Coco Irvine's diary from the year she was in seventh grade is simply hilarious and a historical treasure.  Growing up in the luxurious house where Mark Dayton now lives, Coco grew up in jazz age and had that 13 year old compulsion to deny guilt.  Like it was "no fault of her own" that the fire alarm went off in her school.  Sentences later we learn that she wasn't prepared for French class and was worried that if she didn't do well in class, she wouldn't be able to go to the dance that weekend.  So she bounced a basketball against the wall right next to the fire alarm until the alarm went off!.  No fault of your own?  It was totally your fault! Oh, Coco, I wish I could be you.  I wish I had stolen my parent's car and driven around an island on White Bear Lake.  I wish I had half the fun you did. Take an hour of your time and read this delicious book.

Curiosity

In my opinion curiosity is a good thing. I have a lot of curiosity.  I always have.  This morning an old memory drifted up from the recesses of my mind to a moment in the 1960's.  I am at home.  I am about 8 years old. My parents are out.  On this rare occasion where my Grandma was watching us, I sat on the braided rug in the living room next to her rocker.  I am the oldest.  I am too old to occupy her lap.  Younger siblings get that coveted spot on her lap. Grandma had a great soft lap.  It's summer and a low level sun is shining into our living room windows.  It's almost time for bed. Our living room has one wall that is brown, one wall that is orange, and another wall that is orange.  This was the 60's after all.  Grandma rocks her chair with babies in her lap.  I sit on the braided rug right next to her rocker, basking in the flow of the good vibes my Grandma puts out.  The glow of the 3 lamps on a single pole surrounds me. I am looking at the newspaper.  In those days we got the morning and the evening edition of the Saint Paul Pioneer Press.  Since I am too old to take room on Grandma's lap, I sit on the floor next to her and read the paper.  It's the business section.  The newspaper is all about business.  The chair rocks.  All is peaceful in the house. The newspaper is boring but it's my beloved Grandma so I am happy to sit next to her.  I read a headline.  I see a word I have never seen before.  So I, in all innocence, ask Grandma, "Grandma?  What is intercourse?"  The rocking chair stops rocking. Suddenly the vibe from my Grandma feels different.  My eyes are on the business section of the newspaper.  She hesitates.  After a few seconds of silence she says, "Maybe you should ask your mother."  The rocking of younger siblings starts up again.  I forget all about intercourse until the next day when my mother, in a very angry tone, tells me to never, ever, ask my Grandma about intercourse ever again!  I feel her anger so I am careful not to say anything wrong but what could possibly be wrong with a word in a headline in the Saint Paul newspaper?  I learn my lesson.  I never ask Grandma about intercourse ever again, but my curiosity spiked to a level of which I had never felt before.  The next time I get a chance I look up intercourse in the dictionary. I don't get it. What could be the problem?  Why are people so upset about communication between one business and another?  For years I remain confused.  Later, in public high school I learn more about intercourse.  The teachers  at my high school don't tell us directly about intercourse but they explain enough that dots are made on a page and we're supposed to connect those dots ourselves. I think about intercourse.  I hear what they are hinting at.  I think to myself, "Naw!  That can't be right!  I must have it wrong because that sounds downright nasty."  My curiosity is spiked again.  At 16 I do some research on my own because the teacher didn't fully explain it.  Could this really be true?  I learn that what they hinted at is correct.  I cannot believe my eyes.  Wow. I am astounded. "Never ever!" I think to myself.  LOL.  I grew up. I matured.  Intercourse was no longer communication between one business and another. What seemed so nasty at 16 was not nasty at age 26!  I am a curious person and proud of it!  Good times with Grandma!

Funniness

Where I work the employee's club has a staff spotlight questionnaire on the month of your employment beginning. Last month, January, was my 28th anniversary so I answered my questions honestly and sincerely. I had questions (they vary year to year) like what was your first job?  What are the significant events in your life.  If you won the lottery what would you do with the money?  If you could win travel or money what would you choose?  We learn a lot about each other this way. Significant events are births, deaths, marriages and cancer.  So today the February answers were displayed in the break room.  Swear to God, I never laughed so hard in my life.  One guy I know had the following answers:  First Job?  Skinny dipping  into Missouri lakes with other rednecks.  (What? Did he say skinny dipping?  I know he fishes in Missouri for those really large carp and I think he said he puts his arm under river banks in a fishing procedure called noodlingbut that doesn't sound like him at all!  I can't see him ever admitting to skinny dipping at work)  Win the lottery?  Share it with my co-workers.  Okay,that answer alone means it's not him answering the questions  It's true.  Someone else has answered the questions for him and, knowing him and how he is, their answers are worthy of a Seinfeld episode. The funniest part is that he let her do it! Favorite radio station?  DKAT.  I don't know that station DKAT.  Turns out it stands for don't kill anyone today.  I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes.  Last month I answered my questionnaire earnestly.  Next year?  I don't think so!  Or have I lost my chance to be as funny as he is?  Probably. Darn it!

Ruthless

I have always wondered about the word ruthless. I used to work with a couple people named Ruth.  Now I don't.  Am I ruthless?  But after reading Ruthless by Ron Miscavige, I now know what ruthless means. Wow. Just wow.  I don't pay attention to Scientology.  I stand in the grocery line and see the magazine articles about Tom Cruise and Leah Remini but I don't pay attention. I only picked up this book because I was curious about the word ruthless.  Golly (and say that aloud like Gomer Pyle used to say golly). Listening to this book on CD was an eye opener to say the least.  I could hardly believe the words Ron was saying about his son, David.  Wow.  Just wow.  And in this age of shock and confusion, twitter tweets, fake news,  and focus on ratings as compared to actual conviction, this book scared the living bejeesus out of me.  I may be enthusiastic about this book but no worries, I'm not converting to Scientology.  You can sell me an Exer-genie but I'm not buying into Scientology.  Jeez, what a book.  Truth is stranger than fiction.

Hope Is A Thing Like A Feather

My grandma used to tell me that she could write as well left-handed and right-handed. That skill was given from her strict and totally mistaken grade school teachers who punished her for writing left-handed.  She also, she told me often, was fluent in mirror writing.  She could write quickly in writing that didn't make sense until you held it up to a mirror. I always wondered how useful of a skill was the mirror writing.  Maybe mirror writing was a form of entertainment before the advent of television. I, for one, never need to know how to do mirror writing until today. Today mirror writing came in handy. Today I learned I'm actually pretty good at it.  Consonants are easier in mirror than vowels.  You start at the left and it's not actually that hard to do.  Today I did something out of my comfort zone.  Today I did something I never did before. I prepared a resin sand block for a hot metal pour.  It's like sculpture in reverse.  Mountains become valleys and valleys become mountains.  Words and numbers have to be written flipped and backwards.  We got to the sculpture park in Franconia at 10 in the morning.  My plan included an image of a black capped chickadee with the words underneath it that read, at least I hope they read if I did it right, "Hope is a thing like a feather."  The words are the first line of an Emily Dickson poem. We used dental tools, spoons, butter knives to dig into the sand/resin to make our image. Some people with less intricate designs used drills and dremels.  I had a hard time getting started.  I had drawn an image of a chickadee on paper and eventually cut that out of the paper and traced it.  I dug the bird out and then added lines to indicate feathers.   I dug a spot out for the eyeball.  I hope I didn't go too deep on the eye or I will end up with a pop-eyed chickadee.  The letters were much easier.  I spent the full 3 hours bent over a table digging in the sand and perfecting my "negative" sculpture.  I worked so hard I rubbed the skin off the 1st and 2nd knuckles of my right pinky finger.  I had a little trouble on the first e in feather.  The center popped out of the top of the e but I hope it will still be readable.  I won't know until next week. On Sunday of next week we go back and they pour hot metal into our sand/resin molds.  I spent a day out of my comfort zone - it was fun!

My Awesome Neighbor!

My neighbor put a chicken video on my Facebook page of a chicken walking around in turquoise pants.  The video made me LOL (laugh out loud).  I imagine it would be traumatic to the chicken to dress it in pants but it was pretty funny. This neighbor, next door, is a terrific neighbor.  She is friendly and helpful and amazing. I can send her a text asking if she can water my chickens while I (go to Utah, have a hip replaced, it doesn't matter, she will do it).  And unlike the previous neighbor, who also was great, she doesn't send me a vibe that says, "Stay away from my husband!"  The first time I met her was a traumatic day. A red fox had grabbed Meredith and took her away. I heard Meredith screaming bloody murder and I took off to save my Meredith.  Despite sensitive feet, I actually ran down the drive way after the fox who had Meredith in it's jaws. OMG - it hurt so much (I have very tender feet and a gravel driveway) but my chicken - I had to rescue her from the fox.  The fox ran into the neighbors yard with Meredith in it's jaws. "Put the chicken down" I yelled like an insane person just as my new neighbor came out of her front door with a grandchild (can't remember if it was a boy or a girl-I was that upset).   The fox, seeing my neighbor and her grandchild, decided to drop the chicken.  There was poor Meredith, absent all tail feathers, upset and crying.  I scooped her up in my arms and introduced myself to my new neighbor. That moment was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.   Isn't she great? She has the key to my house and I have the key to hers.  I used to take care of her cat when she went on vacation and she takes care of my chickens when I need her to do that.   She will tromp through snow and slush to water my chickens.  And even when I am home from (Utah, hip replacement, whatever) she texts me to make sure I don't need her another day.  I am lucky and I know it.  

When Customer Service Falls Short

Where I go to exercise there is a big emphasis of friendly customer service.  When you arrive or depart you are greeted by the person at the desk.  A year ago there was an awesome person at the front desk.  Her name was Jordan. When I walked in she would smile at me, wave her hand to indicate I didn't need to show her my gym card, and say, "I got you Sue!  Have a good workout!"  She was amazing. One day at the Cub grocery store that shares the same parking lot as the gym, I was mindlessly putting my purchases on the conveyor belt.  I was in a state of obliviousness that often takes over when I shop for groceries.  I hear a friendly, "Hi Sue!"  It was Jordan. She was shopping for groceries too.  I told her, "You are amazing.  You are like the name whisperer."  She laughed. I am glad I said that. Jordan gave good customer service.  She doesn't work there anymore but I feel certain success is in her future. Today I had a different experience. I walk in after work with my gym card in my right hand.  An unfamiliar person is at the desk beside another woman whom I have seen many times before.  Her hand is extended. She is ready to put my card under the scanner to check me in.  I smile.  "How are you?" she asks me.  She takes the card out of my hand, holds it under the device and I hear a reassuring beep.  I start to say good but before I can get the letter g out of my mouth she turns her head to her coworker and asks, "How are you feeling?"  As she listens she mindlessly keeps my card in her hand.  I stand there, ignored and pinned to the spot because she has my card in my hand. I need my card.  I need my card to use my locker and to get back in again tomorrow. I get that she is busy.  I get customer service is hard.  I get that she really doesn't care how I am doing today. All that is fine.  Just stop pretending you care about me of if you can't do that, at least give me my card back and don't make me wait while you ignore me.  A smile is all I care for.  Easy for me to say. I don't work there.  I try to give good customer service at my job.  I thank people for coming to meetings. I remember things about them. I tease them about things in the past.  I am friendly.  It's not just me saying that, my coworkers (more importantly my supervisor) agree I am friendly. I acknowledge people-isn't that a huge part of the human experience? I think it is.  Relationships is what life is all about.

Also Ahead of Schedule

Somebody laid her first egg today.  It's greenish blue so it has to be one of the 3 Americaunas in the coop. I asked but no one claimed it.  Would you think the first egg laid by a chicken has extra nutrients much like the first milk of a lactating woman?  I don't know, but my plan is to have this first egg sauteed with mushrooms and onion.

Ahead of Schedule

A couple years ago I knitted a green blanket for a baby.  I didn't get it done as early as I would have liked.  I finished off the last dozen rows at the hospital in Bremerton while I awaited the birth.  The blanket was finished before she was born but barely.

For this blanket I am ahead of schedule.  I have a four skein blanket and thought I would do one in January, one in February, one in March and one in April.  Last night was February 1st and I added the third skein already.  Maybe this time I can finish it early and even have time to wash it before the baby comes.

Who Am I?

Neanderthal

This morning I got the email I have been waiting for since the day after Christmas.  I was given a gift of a DNA test called 23 & Me.  I got the heritage part of the test.  Medical is another option but as yet I haven't done that.  So on Dec. 26 I filled a test tube of saliva and mailed it away.  Today I got the results of my heritage.  I, like all people of European descent, have some Neanderthal in me.  But, of all the people who have mailed their spit to this agency, I have more Neanderthal than most.  I have more Neanderthal in me that 75% of the other customers.  Go Neanderthal!   Also, I learned this:

You most likely had a grandparent, great-grandparent, or second great-grandparent who was 100% French & German. This person was likely born between 1830 and 1890.

You most likely had a great-grandparent, second great-grandparent, or third great-grandparent who was 100% British & Irish. This person was likely born between 1800 and 1860.

You most likely had a great-grandparent, second great-grandparent, or third great-grandparent who was 100% Eastern European. This person was likely born between 1800 and 1860.

You most likely had a second great-grandparent, third great-grandparent, fourth great-grandparent, or fifth great-grandparent who was 100% Balkan. This person was likely born between 1740 and 1830.

You most likely had a third great-grandparent, fourth great-grandparent, fifth great-grandparent, or sixth great-grandparent who was 100% Scandinavian. This person was likely born between 1710 and 1800.

You most likely had a fourth great-grandparent, fifth great-grandparent, sixth great-grandparent, or seventh great (or greater) grandparent who was 100% Iberian. This person was likely born between 1680 and 1770.

I thought I was German and Polish. British and Irish?!  Blimey! Balkan?!  Oopa! Scandinavian?! Uff da!  And Iberian?! Ay Dois Mio!  I have a lot to think about.  I opted to share information to see if I had any relatives who also used 23 & Me.  Guess how many relatives?  You'll never guess.  1413 relatives, that is how many. Mind is blown!



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