Happy Friday!

Those Trees Though

Those trees though.  They are already changing.  Gone is the winter display of beautiful architecture, graceful limbs ascending and descending, no limb out of proportion to the other limbs of the tree.  Trees discipline themselves.  Bushes and plants will grow one long sprout way longer than the rest but trees keep a uniform outline.  Some are pyramidal, some are round, some form columns, some are shaped like vases, some weep, some are round or oval - they're all pretty in their own way.  But now they have changed.  Spring has sprung. Dormant buds have become swollen.  I can see it as I drive home.  Even the "late to leaf out" trees are changed.  Some trees, like maples, are the quickest to proclaim spring is here and swell out their buds and form flowers.  Other trees, the more restrained trees, like oaks and walnuts wait to make sure spring is really here before venturing out.  Many buds have woken up from winter and come alive.  Spring season is so full of possibilities, so verdant, so fertile, so, what is the word I want?  So full of potential?  Trees are making use of the longer days using their magic photosynthesis. (We could learn a lot from trees).  The cambium is dividing.  Sap is flowing.  Oh, gosh, trees, even though they can't move, are magical creatures. There is a guy who really likes trees.  He takes pictures of an oak year round.  He's out of Dubuque, Iowa, and he loves trees like I do.  He even wrote a book about trees named That Tree.  If only they could throw apples at us like the trees did in the Wizard of Oz - well, that would be something special!

Anxiety Makes Me Annoying

I bought a new shirt that is a tunic top.  The colors are bright and gaudy and I wanted the correct thing to go with it.  On the description of the shirt leggings were mentioned.  Leggings.  I had no leggings.  I went to Target to buy leggings.  I've never seen leggings for sale.  Are they in the pants section?  No.  Intimate wear?  No.  Athletic wear?  No.  Socks?  Yes. So I bought a pair. As soon as I get them home there is news about two girls who were denied access to a plane because they wore leggings.  So then I wonder if leggings are appropriate.  Should I?  Shouldn't I?  This top is finger tip length.  Other people (all younger women) wear leggings with tops shorter than this one at the place where I work.  Why can't I?  I ask my best friend.  She says I absolutely can wear this top with leggings. This is the point at which I become annoying.  I ask a question.  Someone gives me their answer.  I ask the same question of another person.  I hate it when a person asks me a question and then asks another person the same dang question because it is ANNOYING!  I did that. I became annoying. I ask Offspring #2 who says no to the leggings because, although comfortable, leggings are not appropriate for work.  That satisfies me for two hours and then I ask her why a person can wear tights to work but not leggings. (See how I completely disregarded the length of the tunic top there?)  She, and rightly so, lets me have it. She tells me I am old enough to make my own clothing decisions and that leggings are not appropriate at work.  Dang, that is not the answer I wanted to hear.  I already heard the answer I wanted to hear from my best friend but, in a most annoying manner, kept asking.  So what do I do next?  That's right, I ask ANOTHER person her opinion on my wearing leggings to work.  I even send her the pic above. She slyly answers "Maybe if the top were a bit longer." Oh, she could be a politician. What am I doing to myself?  I ask myself why am I making myself so anxious about a top.  And then I thought a thought that popped and deflated the anxiety balloon entirely.  If the biggest thing in your life to cause anxiety is your wardrobe, life must be pretty good.  Whew.  I calmed myself down.  And I wore my new top today.  I got lots of compliments.  And I wore leggings with it.  And I also wore a black pleated skirt that came to my knees.  And black shoes; not bedroom slippers. But I did wear leggings so take that professional dress code!

Chorus Frogs Calling!

The weather has been so nice this week I have taken people on a lunch time walk near Laddie Lake.  Monday was beautiful.  We heard red winged blackbirds and blue jays and Canadian Geese.  Ice was still evident in the flooded area next to the path. Today was also beautiful. We heard all those birds and we saw a dead cat.  As we're rounding the lake I told my walking partner, "I haven't seen any butter . . ." I saw something orange flying so I stopped talking. Right there on the side of the path was a tiny orange butterfly, possibly and Eastern comma.  What are the chances that the first butterfly of the season should appear when I was in the middle of saying the word butterfly? Before we got to the flooded area I got all excited again.  Chorus frogs were calling!  Welcome back chorus frogs!  Your sexy mating calls are music to my ears.  When we got closer to that area where the frogs were calling, we could see dark chunks of ice still very much in evidence among the leaves and grasses and drowning trees.

The Yonahlossee Riding Camp For Girls

I am not sure what I was expecting when I picked up The Yonahlossee Riding Camp For Girls by Anton Disclafani but this sure was a surprising book.  Set in the 1930's between Florida and North Carolina, the story is about Thea Atwell.  Thea is a teenaged daughter.  You can read the book and think Thea is extremely selfish or you might think Thea is extremely brave. When I read the book about Thea my thoughts were about her parents.  What were they thinking?  Did Thea's parents think at all because if they did, they would have known what was coming.  Later in the story I think Thea is taken advantage of by an authority figure and that upsets me.  Later I learn that that encounter helped Thea in a way when no one else was there to help her.  He helped her recover from her crazy family and survive and flourish during her life.  The descriptions of the Florida heat (before the days of air conditioning), the citrus groves, the oncoming economic depression, and the mountain of North Carolina were excellent.  The author does an excellent job of describing what it would be like to come from an extremely isolated citrus farm in Florida and navigate the complicated social network of a boarding school for girls.  This was an excellent book that keep me enthralled every chapter.

I Passed!

Please forgive me for shouting but I PASSED THE OWL TEST ON THE FIRST TRY! I guess I was a little stressed out about it.  I find it hard to remember owls when I seldom hear the barred and the great horned. I can't ever remember hearing anything but those two owls.  To be frank, I'd rather not hear a barn owl because their sound is quite unpleasant. We are supposed to have them  in the southern half of our state but they are declining due to habitat loss.  The quiz is multiple choice. This time I knew some of the non-owl birds thrown in there to confuse me.  I heard the unmistakable sound of an American bittern and the crazy sound of the woodcock. And I heard a green frog too.  Whew.  Now I can relax my ears until it's time for the frog and toad oral quiz.  After that it's the marsh birds to study.  I am going to go and rest my ears now.

Note to Self

Note to self:  Next spring when there is a striped bird sitting in the window bird feeder, suspect it might be a female house finch before spending two hours looking through the bird book.
 



Throwing Shade at the Wrong Animal

For years I've been throwing shade at the white tailed deer because I thought they were responsible for the Lyme disease. I thought the deer were infecting the deer ticks.  The ticks are called deer ticks. Well, the ticks are also called black legged ticks and maybe that is a better name for them. Now I learn from this article called Forbidding Forecast that it is not the deer infecting the ticks.  White footed mice infect 95% of the ticks that bite them. Since my house is built on the edge of a fragmented forest, I have mice in my yard. Mice in the yard and mice in the house (in the fall).  Dang white footed mice!  If the population of white footed mice goes up one year, the rate of Lyme's disease goes up the next year.  Black legged ticks on white footed mice!  Crazy!

Love Anthony

My book club read Love Anthony by Lisa Genova.  I was the discussion leader this month and was the person who presented this book as one we could talk about.  Our group had already read two other Genova novels, Left Neglected and Still Alice.  We had a great discussion. I am always amazed how many people know someone on the autism spectrum.  This novel focuses on two women.  Olivia has a son who has autism.  Lisa has three girls and her husband is unfaithful.  Lisa writes a book about a boy with autism.  The thoughts from Anthony written by Lisa are few and I craved more but that is the thing about people with Autism.  Communication is such a barrier there is no way to know what goes on inside their heads.  I started out with an ice breaker activity where I read quotes from the book and people had to guess who said that quote and what page it was on.  I thought it would be very challenging. I was amazed how well the group did.  One fellow had his e-reader and he could search for the passage electronically.  That is a handy feature.  I had to skim the paperback book 6 times before I found all the answers.  I had a list of discussion questions to ask but I never got around to all of them because the group kept the conversation flying by themselves.  One lady in particular was excellent at the quotes and gave amazingly close guesses on the page numbers as well.  She happens to have a grandchild diagnosed with Autism just two weeks ago.  She was very eager to learn all about autism. In any case, the evening flew by as time does when you're having fun.  Maybe I was a bit more enthusiastic because autism is a topic near and dear to me. Maybe I have come to know and cherish all the men and women in this group of book lovers.  One question I did ask is why the author placed it on Nantucket Island instead of, say, Chicago.  One woman answered that Olivia was trying to get away from life so she had to choose a remote place like Nantucket. She added that the isolation of the island also represented Anthony's isolation from all the people in his world.  Whoa!  Deep!

Envy

A package arrived in the mail yesterday.  I didn't know what it was.  I open it because it is addressed to me.  Inside I find two tiny plastic birds.  One is a wood stork standing on a nest with three eggs and the other is a peacock in full display. I didn't order these.  But aren't they lovely!  These are beautiful little plastic birds.  I would like a whole collection of them.  I stand there admiring these birds when a small memory niggles my brain.  Didn't someone ask me to bring two plastic toys to Sicily for my grand daughter's second birthday because the company refused to ship to her address?  Could these be toys for her?  That would be the most likely explanation. Aww, man!  What kind of Grandma is jealous of her grand daughter's toys?  

Exciting Big White Bird!

Yesterday I drove to the airport again.  It's never as much fun to drop off or pick someone up as it is to be the one leaving but we must all take our turns in life.  Yesterday I left work and drove through Minneapolis during rush hour to the airport where Offspring #2 was returning from a couple weeks in the southern hemisphere.  I drive this way all the time so I know when to worry about what lane I am in and when I can relax.  Today, as I turned off Highway 55 toward Terminal One a big white bird flew over my car.   Gasp! What is that?  A snowy owl?  No, it didn't look like an owl.  But it was too big to be a gull.  Too short to be an egret.  Was it an angel?  No, I'm still alive.  It's not an angel.  What other white birds do we have?   Pelican? This one was too small to be a pelican. I had to focus on driving so I put the big white bird out of my mind temporarily.  I pick up three tired travelers at door one. They fit easily into my car because their luggage is still in Florida.  Could be worse.  Having luggage in Peru is worse than Orlando.  I drop them off at their destinations and, to my surprise, am home again before 6 o'clock.  I see on my birding website that someone saw a big white bird near Hwy 494 and Hwy 62 this afternoon and wondered what it was. Other birders respond that a leucistic red tailed hawk is commonly seen there.  Oh, what relief to know what that big white bird was.  This is my first leucistic bird sighting.  Unlike albino creatures, leucistic animals have normal eye color.  I saw a leucistic red tailed hawk!  That is very exciting!

Good By To Winter!

Happy first day of spring!  I went on a nice long walk at lunch today and heard the first red winged blackbird of the year.  Music to my ears.  Here is a video of grebes courting for your viewing pleasure.

My interpretation?  Oh, you have a nice head. You have a nice head too. You shake your head after I shake mine.  I like the way you scratch your back.  Oh, you scratch your back rather nicely yourself.  Here, let me get that feather out of your mouth.  See my lovely foot?  Let's get it on!  Lets bug our eyes out, stiffen our necks and do the Jesus walk together!

Cuke On A Rope

A piece of cucumber suspended on a string freaks the chickens out at first.

The Crows Pointed it Out

Today was my lucky day.  I saw an owl.  I didn't get a good long look at it. I wouldn't have seen it at all except the crows pointed it out.  Two crows were having a conniption fit.  They were loudly cawing and dive bombing a fair sized bird at the top of a bare tree.  I thought it could be a red tailed hawk because I've seen red tailed hawks on that tree before but this bird had a thick neck and a round head.  The crow flew nearer to it and the owl hunched down it's head to protect itself. This was an important discovery!  A barred owl at noon right along the highway?  I am amazed.  If only I wasn't merging west on Highway 10 from Hanson Boulevard I could have slowed down and enjoyed a better look at it.

Trees

Birds of a Feather

I have heard that birds of a feather flock together.  I'm not sure that is true but the fact of the matter is I have been choosing "see fewer posts from right wing news" pretty regularly on face book.  What I do know that, in this first week of collecting a good number of eggs, if I get one green egg I get three.  Twice this week I collected 3 green eggs. The Americauna chicks (who lay the green eggs) tend to ovulate in unison.  The cuckoo marans give me one brown egg at a time. And Chickenson Caruso, the elder queen of the flock (the last surviving Buff Orpington) lays one tan egg every 4 months or so.

Contagious

Lots of illnesses spreading around lately.  People are picking up colds, the flu, sinus infections, and to top that off, a little bit of ringworm too.  Yikes. Contagion sucks.  Why can't people spread good germs to each other instead of all these nasty germs?  I'd like to see some feed good germs, better looking germs, increased productivity germs, or overall well-being germs.  When I think about it laughter can be contagious.  But how long does that last?  Colds last two weeks.  Laughter is contagious for a much shorter time. A few seconds.  Maybe that is a good thing.  I would not like to laugh for two solid weeks.  I think I'd rather catch a cold than laugh for two weeks.  On the other hand I have a friend who is so supportive she reminds me of a warm blanket. She and I were friends when my offspring were small.  And if you know me, you know that not everything in the parenting department went according to plan.  I was not living the life of June Cleaver.  I never wanted to be a stay at home Mom but I wanted the family life I saw on "Leave It To Beaver."  I would share my troubles with my friend.  She would listen carefully, ask probing questions, and always end with, "You're a good Mom."  At first I didn't believe her.  But she kept saying it over and over, time after time.  After, I think it was the eighth time she said it, I had to think to myself that either my friend is right or she is wrong.  So I asked myself, is she smart?  Yes.  Is she sincere? Totally.  Do I trust her judgement?  Absolutely.  Is the Beaver really June Cleaver's son?  No!  That is television.  For all we know Wally has a secret drinking problem. So that meant my friend had to be right. My friend's faith in me was contagious. I began to believe I was a good Mom and because of that belief, that confidence, I was a better Mom.  Shoot!  That friend is way better than any cold or flu.  She changed me.  She changed my image of myself.  Maybe she didn't make me feel good for two solid weeks like a cold makes me feel bad for 14 days, but I'll take it.  Besides, face it, if you had the power to make people look more attractive for two weeks after every meeting, the line at your door would be so long you'd never get anything done.

Truth

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

Sometimes life is baffling to me.  Baffling I say.  Or perplexing.  The first thing that baffled me was the state legislature agreed to something before May. Usually it's all talk and no action until the last minute, as if they are paid to procrastinate. Well, generally they are paid to procrastinate. Except this year. This year a single idea united them and they passed a bill months before the month of May.  Was the idea, this important idea, related to social issues?  Oh, no.  Environmental issues? Nope.  And it wasn't education, the budget, wages, prison reform, opioid addiction, potholes, labor law or the shortage of labor in social services?  No.  The one issue the legislative body of our state agreed on was buying booze on Sunday. That was the first thing that baffled me. Beginning in July, I can buy liquor on Sunday.  The ban on Sunday liquor sales has been in effect for 159 years, as long as Minnesota has been a state. Am I grateful for this privilege? No.  I have contacted my legislators a few times over my voting years about social issues and the environment but never, not ever, seriously, not even once, about buying alcohol on Sunday.  And I didn't see any yard signs, bill boards, political advertising about buying alcohol on Sunday. I am baffled.  On top of that, one of the most respected wine stores in Minneapolis, the one that offers fancy wine and wine classes, the one on Hennepin open since 1934 took this new law that goes into effect in July and decides not to wait until July.  Surdyks Liquor and Cheese Store was open on March 12.  What?!?  Who is this Minneapolis law breaker Jim Surdyk?  Is he a criminal or a hero?  Was he drinking when he made this choice? Maybe he's one of the classic American rebels! He could be a maverick sommelier.  His grandfather opened the store right after prohibition which was an exciting time in the liquor industry.  With his action of being open this past Sunday, he is also in an exciting time in the liquor industry.  He was honest.  He said he was going to be open on Sunday.   He made a bold decision.  I'll give him that. The city of Minneapolis did not like his choice. Some people thought he was kidding. What baffles me further is that some people drove to Surdyks on Sunday from many miles away (such as Forest Lake) to buy booze because, well, because it was against the law.  The city got so mad they took away his liquor license for a whole month and they added a fine of $2000.  The only thing about this whole story that doesn't baffle me is the reaction from the city of Minneapolis. 

    

Missoula

This book by Jon Krakauer was a hard book to read.  The subject is a hard one.  Despite my advanced age and years of experience as a volunteer sexual assault advocate, I was disturbed by this book.  I was riveted too.  Missoula: Rape And The Justice System In A College Town is a page-turner.  The information within is graphic but necessary.  I am astounded to learn how difficult it is for women to fight for justice in this day and age and how loyal football fans can be.  I guess loyal isn't the right word because a loyal fan could also want all players to be held accountable for their actions.  I remember when I first heard about "blaming the victim" in the 1970's.  I thought, since that emotional response has been identified, it won't happen any more.  Wrong.  I was very wrong.  Lawyers use that victim blaming emotional response in trials to confuse the jury and acquit the defendants. How victims react to being raped varies.  There is no wrong way to react to such a traumatic event.  This book was very enlightening.  I am sad to see that Kirsten Pabst is still the county attorney in Missoula.  I'm glad I read this book.  I don't want all the books I read to be "feel good" stories with happy endings.  But I will definitely choose a lighter subject for my next one.

Around The Corner?

A Walk In The Snow

Snow is falling. But it seems like a long day. Despite setting the clock an hour ahead, it seems like a long day. A walk around the block seems in order. This cuckoo maran is enjoying the white precipitation.

Little specks of snow sparkle against my face and melt.  I hear them hitting my jacket. Aren't these blue wine bottles artistic?  I guess I am not totally convinced.

As I walk along I hear Canadian Geese honking.  Why must they talk to much?  Much to my delight I also hear Sand hill cranes bugling!  OMG!  It's been a long time.  I am sure these sand hill cranes are calling from Andover.

I am the only person walking today.  My footprints are my testimony.  It's a good day to walk around the block.

The wind has been brutal in the past week.  The poor trees have been dancing around like crazy.  They must feel like they've run a marathon.  Many fallen branches dot the landscape.

Offspring #1 planted this tree. He named it Little One.  He even wrote a poem about Little One.  Little One is now taller than my house.  I thought it was important to provide my offspring with a stable home.  Guess I can check that off my list.

Birds Feeding Before the Storm

The birds seemed extra hungry this weekend.  Chickadees eating furiously,  Red bellied woodpeckers barreling into my window feeder to snag some sunflower seeds with such a clunk I keep thinking a bird has hit my window.  This pileatied woodpecker is enjoying some suet.  He doesn't like it when I take his picture from the patio door.  He keeps flying away.  Camera shy I guess.

He doesn't seem to mind if I take the photo from the living room window though.

Such a massive woodpecker!

Technology

I am old. I am technologically challenged.  I remember a computer without a mouse.  Shoot, to be truthful, I remember a computer with paper tape with tiny paper dots coming out.   But I try to keep up.  Don't tell anyone but I have them totally fooled at work. If only I can keep this up until  retirement I will be fine.  I joined Facebook.  No shame there. Oh, the things I have learned on Facebook!  It's amazing. Offspring have relationships. Offspring have no relationships.  Offspring have new relationships!  I have cousins.  The cousins are Trump supporters?  I can opt to not see information from Right Wing News. What? This information s invaluable.  I didn't have a "My Space!"  Did you?  I missed that.  I joined Twitter.  I never tweeted but I read tweets.  Some were funny  but ended up not to  be true. So I quit Twitter. Twitter seemed like a waste of my time.  Recently I joined Snapchat -a photo-sharing platform where you share photos but they go away quickly.  What is the use of that?  I wondered that. It's a reasonable question.   Photos that disappear?  Crazy town!  Unless one of your offspring is on the other side  of the equator and you are worried about their safety.  Cordoba,  Argentina - thanks to Snapchat I have seen photos of the dogs of Cordoba, a stroll up a steam near Cordoba, foraging for berries near Cordoba, leaf-cutting ants in Cordoba,  a giant aloe vera bush in Cordoba, and drinking in Cordoba.  Oh, a sibling is working in Hudson, Wisconsin? And now she is in Edian? Well, I am glad to know she is safe and having fun. Actually, from Snapchat, I knew a sibling painted her living room green.  I called on the old fashioned cell phone.  "Did you paint your walls? I ask (as if I didn't know).  "How did you know that?" she asks, unaware her daughter snapchatted her painting the living room. I'm so bad.  I answer, "I can see through walls." Then, of course, being the super nice person that I am, I tell her the truth.  Technology!  Are you up with latest? No judgement here.   Technology is good and bad.  Technology is a good use of time and a waste of time.  Personally?  I can't wait until 9 a.m. tomorrow when I can skype with my family in  Sicily.

Vestibular Joy of a Seesaw

Here is a photograph of the school where I attended kindergarten.  At recess I played on this playground.  Another friend and I played on these teeter totters.  You will notice hard earth underneath these things. We didn't have sand or black rubber matts like the playgrounds of today.  One day at recess some older boys came over and wanted to use the teeter totters.  I got off.  Before my friend could get off or maybe it's possible she didn't want to get off, the bigger boys got on my side.  I don't know if they intentionally came down as hard as they did or perhaps they didn't understand the laws of physics. As my friend's side of the teeter totter reached the apex she arrived with such force she couldn't hold on and she went flying up through the air down to the dirt.  Her little body lay on the playground while kids and teachers gathered around her.  Her skirt was spread out.  She was out cold. To this day I don't know what happened to her.  I was scooted back into the school with all the other kids before she got up or before the ambulance came.  I tried to stay back with my friend but a teacher told me to leave so I did. I don't know what happened.  She didn't come back to class that day.  She didn't come back to school for the rest of the school year.  I don't know what time of year this incident happened but we weren't wearing coats.  Was it September? April?  May?  What happened to my kindergarten friend?  I saw this photo on Facebook today and it brought me right back to that moment.  If I had a choice in the matter my friend had a good outcome. Her parents came to take her home and relax the rest of the day and since it was the last week of school they left for a summer vacation early.  She returned to that school the next year (I changed schools so this might have happened) and lived a long and happy life.  I don't see seesaws like this in playgrounds anymore.  Now the seesaws are lower to the ground and don't have a single fulcrum but more of a spring type fulcrum.  To me, looking at that picture now, I would guess the high point of that teeter totter was a good three or four feet up in the air and that design, while fun, is probably too dangerous.  Seesaws were very fun. I remember the head rush I would get coming up to the top.  My brain was probably sloshing around inside of my skull pan.  My rear end would lift off the board a couple inches and I hung on tight and squealed with delight. I was enjoying pure and simple vestibular joy! Coming down hard was also fun but painful to the rear end and perhaps my vertebra were getting jostled.  I had to be sure to keep my hands on the handle-never folded behind me over the end of the board. If two kids were not the same weight we would compensate for that by moving the heavier kid more toward the middle.  The heavier person might have to sit in front of the handle bars.  Another option, if we had three people, was to have the two people closest to the same weight on the ends of the board and the third person standing in the middle of the board with one leg on each side of the fulcrum.  We were having fun and indirectly learning about physics. I guess the moral of the story is that all great fun comes with a little bit of danger.

I Believe I Can Fly

With the strong gusty winds yesterday and today, I really believed I could fly.  After work, after swimming laps at the gym, I stopped at the pharmacy like the old lady that I am.  The wind buffeted me. To be honest, I had my arms outspread to increase the effect but I could actually feel the wind try to lift me up by my parka covered arms.  The wind woke me up last night.  When I opened the garage door this morning  I was checking to see if any trees were blocking my driveway. One old box elder tree had fallen but wasn't blocking my driveway.  A soaring eagle, soaring really low to the ground, graced me with it's presence right above my head when I opened my garage door this morning. The wind has been strong all day.  The wind opened doors at work as if Casper the Ghost was coming and going.  On the way home the wind tried to make me change lanes without turning the steering wheel at all.  If ever I thought I could fly (a superpower I would choose for myself) today was the day to try.  Today a penguin could fly. I think an ostrich could fly. Yep, today was windy.  March was like a lion.  As much as I want to fly, I also want to be safe (slightly short of 4 months since the last hip replacement so  should err on the side of safety).

Walter Brennan

A friend contacted me.  I knew him about ten years ago.  When he asks, "How are you doing?" I think back to 2007.  And wow, now I realize, for the first time ever, that I am walking better, with less of a limp and much less pain than I have for the past 12 years.  I can remember going to the doctor 12 years ago and listing my complaints and he said, (this astounds me now), "Do you remember Walter Brennan?"  In other words he was telling me that some people limp and some people don't limp and get used to it.  I know this because I am a big fan of the old cowboy shows.  That doctor makes me so mad now.  I needed new hips!  I wish he could have seen me today, leaving the gym, walking without any limp, without any pain, beautiful endorphins flowing through my system after lifting weights and walking on the treadmill.  I am no  Walter Brennan.  Thanks to a new friend, I realized this huge accomplishment.  Someday I may limp like Walter Brennan but today is not the day.

Welcome Back!

Other people have reported hearing sand hill cranes trumpeting and red winged black birds calling.  I have been listening but have not heard or seen those early migrants. But, with the warm weather I had the windows open, I heard my red shouldered hawk calling.  Welcome back red shouldered hawk!  I shall enjoy your incessant talking all summer. I sincerely hope you find enough frogs and salamanders to eat.  Usually red winged black birds are my harbinger of spring but this will do; this will do.

History Ignored

On Saturday I picked up a friend in Anoka on our way to a tree biology class.  She lives on Madison.  Teasing her I asked if her street was named after Dolly or James.  She told me that from the south starting with George Washington toward the north ending with stern looking William McKinley, the streets in Anoka are named after each president in chronological order.  What?!  For 30 years I have driven through this town and missing a lesson in history?  Wait a minute, who was President Cross?  I've seen cross presidents but never a President Cross.  I guess generally the streets are named after Presidents but not exclusively. Now I will proceed with more care driving north and south through  Anoka and try to predict the next street before I can read the sign.  

Tree Biology

Today I took a master naturalist class on tree biology.  We started out with the definition of a tree.  The definition is not so easy. Tall plant with a single trunk?  What is tall?  400 feet is tall and most trees don't get that high.  And a single trunk? Well, aspen are a kind of tree but under the ground they can share a single root and the same DNA.  If you clear cut an aspen forest they will grow right back up again in quick order because they use the same roots.  Trees have fruit? Yes, deciduous trees have fruits.  Some have large fruits like apples and others have smaller fruit like the maple helicopter seeds or round basswood seeds.  What do trees eat?  Although they came move 100 gallons of water from their roots out of their stomata on their leaves, they don't actually eat the water.  They don't eat fertilizer.  Since 49% of the tree is carbon ad 50% is hydrogen and oxygen and less than 1% is nitrogen and other trace minerals, the best way to feed a tree is to walk up to it and breath on it.  Expel your breath against the trunk or the leaves or the branches.  Blow on a tree. Trees eat air.  Trees feed on air.  From massive coastal redwoods to gnarly oaks to sinewy bamboo air is what feeds them.  From bark to phloem trees are amazing organisms.  Take two trees. Plant one in a park.  Plant the other tree on a boulevard between the street and the sidewalk.  Which tree will grow faster?  I would think the tree in the park with plenty of room and fresh air and soil that is permeable and not compacted by traffic would grow faster.  I am wrong.  The tree on the boulevard grows faster.  The water on the sidewalk can't be absorbed into the concrete so it runs off right onto the roots of the tree.  The tree in the park doesn't get as much water right onto the roots so it grows slower.  The tree in the park lives longer but grows at a slower pace.  Some trees have male and female sexual organs on the same branch.  Some trees have male branches and female branches.  Some trees, like ginkgo, have male trees and female trees.  Most trees have the pith in the center of the trunk.  So if you take a slice of the tree you will see concentric circles indicating growth years radiating outward from the pith out to the bark.  But if a tree grows on a slope or a tree is growing crooked to reach for the sun out of the shade of a neighboring tree, the pith will be at one end or the other towards the bark. Or maybe wind pushes a tree to lean to one side.  For whatever reason the tree is growing at an angle, a deciduous tree will put the extra wood to balance itself out on top of the pith.  So a tree leaning to the right will have the pith closer to the right side of the trunk. A coniferous tree will put the extra wood on the other side so a tree leaning to the right with have the pith closer to the left side of the trunk.  How crazy is that? Two kinds of trees choosing the opposite coping method?  Trees are just amazing.  The picture above shows an acacia tree growing out in the savanna on the Masai Mara grasslands.  I took this photo ten years ago.  I arrived on this spot in a truck and I could barely make out the track where our truck traveled. I looked around and as far as my eyes could see I saw nothing human.  Of course I saw my fellow passengers and our truck but other than that I saw no houses, no roads, no planes, no towers, no telephone lines, no structures of any kind and it was a very cool experience. I turned in circles and enjoyed the lack of human impact. I loved these acacia trees. I loved the shade they provided on these grass lands. I loved the hills.  I loved the slopes.  I loved the wildness.  I loved the wilderness.  A forest of acacia trees would not have been as cool as being here on this day seeing an occasional acacia tree on the savanna.  I'm not saying acacia trees are my favorite.  I also love oaks and maples and conifers.  I am not a fan of buck thorn or other invasive species but bamboo in the right place are quite lovely.  I get excited to see palm trees because I know I am in a warm place but actually palm trees are more like a grass than a tree.  Olive trees are cool.  Cork oaks are also cool because you can strip them of their bark and the bark will grow back again.  The bark on eucalyptus trees if fascinating. If you come near one of the oaks in my yard with a chain saw I will knock you flat.  If you use that chain saw on the amur maples?  I would pay you to do it. So I guess I really can not say I have a favorite tree.  Like people, the diversity is fascinating.  I love the diversity of trees.

Friday!

via GIPHY

This Side of the Sod

I was reminded this week that life doesn't owe us anything.  We're alive.  Others are dead. We're not alive because we're better or smarter or more deserving than those who have died.  I asked a work acquaintance a question.  Well, she is a 25+ year work acquaintance and more than an acquaintance but we've never spent unpaid time together so I guess she's not really a friend.  But I like her and she likes me so we're more than acquaintances.  I asked her about a woman I heard who died.  That woman was her sister, her best friend, and the longest love of her life.  She told me, over a 60 minute period a series of interactions they have had together as sisters and best friends. Frontal lobe dementia stole her brain.  Bit by bit, ability by ability, she died quickly and slowly.  Every time they came up with a good plan to handle her lack of ability she got worse before than plan could be put into effect.  I can not imagine helping a sister through a situation like this. My heart would break.  On the last night of her life her sister (my acquaintance) stopped by the nursing home to visit her. She noticed the fear in her face at being lifted by a hoyer lift into bed because she was unable to walk anymore.  Her sister fed her supper because she was the only one her sister would allow to do it.  Her sister helped her into her pajamas.  Her sister kissed her nose before going home at 7 o'clock on a Friday night.  Her sister put on a relaxation CD for her to listen to as she fell asleep.  Her sister died before the CD was over. I hope I am as lucky to die loved like this woman was loved.  My friend listened to the CD again a week after her death. Listening to the music her sister heard as her heart beat for the last time was a spiritual experience.  My friend/acquaintance helped me realize, again, that I am not owed anything.  I could die at any time. Do I wonder about politics? Yes. Do I wonder why buying beer on  Sunday is the biggest issue for the Minnesota legislature?  Yes I do.  My friend/acquaintance reminded me that any day I spend on this side of the sod is a blessing and I shouldn't take it for granted.

The High Mountains of Portugal

I snagged this book at the library when I saw it was written by the same author of Life of Pi.  I loved Life of Pi.  I also loved The High Mountains Of Portugal but it was nothing like Life of Pi.  This book has three separate shorter stories that don't seem related but eventually are somewhat and loosely related.   There were some moments of real comedy in there.  I would be reading along slowly enjoying the words and imagining the scene inside my head when it would dawn on me that this is sincerely funny.  In all three stories a man suffers a loss.  In the first story a man looses his son and lover to illness and then his father dies a couple days later.  He is upset.  He handles his emotions by walking backwards. He is so devastated with loss that he is literally turning his back to God by walking backwards.  There is a scene where his uncle is watching him approach from an upstairs window.  As he walks backwards on the sidewalk, another man notices him coming close to hitting his head on a lamp post.  The man helps his nephew by warning him of the danger and as the stranger walks away, he looks back to double check and ends up hitting his own head on a lamp post.  His nephew sees this and runs to his aid.  The nephew helps the man up.  They part.  Then his nephew strikes his head on a lamp post.  The uncle tries to help the nephew deal with his grief by offering him the use of his car for a trip the nephew is going to take to the high mountains of Portugal.  The nephew doesn't know how to drive. He doesn't want the car unless a driver comes with it. The problems he has with shifting and handling the car are hilarious.  This first story takes place in the beginning of the 1900's.  The second story takes place near the middle of the century and is totally surreal.  This man handles his loss by imagining his wife after her death. The third story takes place in modern times and although it starts out in Canada, it ends up in the high mountains of Portugal. The author describes a high savannah with humongous boulders strewn about erratically.  This man handles his loss by adopting a pet who helps him live in the moment and appreciate the simple things in life.  If you need a story to transport you to another place (like Portugal) and another time, this is a good book for you.