Winter Trees

On Saturday I took a class on identifying trees in the winter.  The class was 3 hours long and held at Carlos Avery.  We spent half the time outside identifying trees.  The instructor was a prof from the University of Minnesota.  He said he lived in northeast Minneapolis. I looked at his hiking boots, flannel shirt, north face jacket and long dark beard and thought, "Of course you do.  You probably ride a bicycle too."  I learned quite a bit of information.  Scotch pine, for example, are different than red pine.  I thought they were all red pine.  I knew red oak from white oak but I didn't know white oak has a chemical in it that stops water transmission.  This is why white oak don't suffer as much mortality from oak wilt disease as red oaks.  This is also why we store whiskey and wine in barrels made from white oak.  Barrels made out of red oak would leak.  We had about 30 people in the class and most of them were not Master Naturalists.  Many were younger.  One young woman raised her hand to ask a question and I expected something immature to come out of her mouth.  Instead she asks, "Scientific name please?"  Whoa, girl.  She was a serious tree student. As we stood admiring a white oak tree, the wolves at the nearby Wildlife Science Center slowly start up a group howl.  I remember the first time I heard this.  I was stunned by the sound and had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact I was hearing wolves right here near Ham Lake.   I look around at the faces of the people who are probably here for the first time.  I see the looks on their faces as they try to comprehend the fact they are hearing not one wolf, not two, not ten, not twenty, but fifty wolves.  I nod at the young woman next to me.  I say, "Yes, you are hearing wolves.  There are 50 of them over behind the building."  Her eyes widen and she runs to tell her friend.  Hearing wolves howl is not a sound  I can get used too.  The howl of a wolf opens something primal in me.  I feel the same way about the call of a loon and the hoot of an owl.  The bray of a donkey does it for me too. We had a great morning learning about trees.  Some of the tree facts I knew already and some were new to me.  I'm sure I won't remember it all but hopefully some of what I learned won't leak out right away.  

The Eagles

Last night I went to see The Eagles, not the bald kind of eagles although several of them were bald.  I saw an Eagles tribute band playing in a small theater at the Chanhassen Dinner theater.  Dinner doesn't come with the show so my college roommates and I ate at a bar and grill attached to the theater first.  These tribute bands  showcase excellent local talent and are perfect for the geriatric set because they start at 8 and end before 10:30 so we don't have to stay up so long after our usual bedtime.  If you had asked me before last night if I was a big fan of the Eagles, I would not have said yes.  I knew some of their songs and I liked some of their songs.  But after the concert last night I realized just how many hit songs they had.  I also learned that I knew every single one of them including all the words. I do like the Eagles. Yes, I sang along.  We all did. We couldn't help it.  Great music.  Great performances.  A great show.

Someday

Someday I will be too old and arthritic to make snow people with waggly arms.  But not today.

I Can And I Will

This morning my alarm went off at six and woke me out of a dream.  Even though I went to bed 9 hours earlier and even though the dream was oddly disturbing, I still did not want to get out of bed.  I turned off the alarm.  I covered myself up again and made my head comfortable on the pillow.  I said aloud, "I do not want to get up."  As I laid there, not getting up and not going back to sleep I heard a sound coming from outside.  Is that a robin singing?  Is this a migratory robin or one of those "stay all winter in Minnesota" robins?  Whatever. I heard, "Cheerily.  Cheer up.  Cheer up.  Cheerily."  Well, I guess I can get out of bed.  If that robin can sing so cheerily in the light of dawn, outside where it is cold out,  I can and I will get out of bed.

At The Water's Edge

I chose to listen to Sara Gruen's novel At The Waters Edge because she also wrote Water For Elephants and I liked that book.  This book I didn't like as much.  For one thing, I did not like the complaining tone of the actress who read this book on CD.  At the end of almost every sentence the last part of the word was formed at the bottom of her throat and she almost moaned it out.  Her voice was freakily annoying.  On top of that the main character, Maddie, was annoying too.  I can understand anxiety and low self-esteem.  I get it when the scales of love fall from your eyes and you see the love of your life as he really appears which is a phony and therefore embarrassing.  I get feeling helpless.  But why stay in that emotional state and live there all the time? Grow a backbone, make changes, take charge of your life.  Or, be like Maddy and wring your hands and worry until a knight in shining armor comes by.  I didn't hate the entire book; just the main character and the voice of the woman who read it  Most of the story takes place in Scotland near Loch Ness and to tell the truth, now I want to go there.

Lioness

A special person in my life had a birthday so I made her this lioness mosaic.  It's a lioness leaping from one rock to another over a gully.  I had a ton of fun making the mosaic and I think it turned out well, so well I almost kept it for myself.  Plus I got to use some of the blue glass I bought a couple months ago. This person has a theory that all people fall into one of three categories:  a lion, a golden retriever, or an otter.  A lion is a leader of others.  A golden retriever's main objective is to please others.  An otter is impulsive and in the moment; not one to plan ahead or be dependable.  She perceives herself to be a blend of lion and golden retriever and she is working on reducing the golden retriever tendencies.  So I made her this lion mosaic and if she likes it half as much as I enjoyed making and giving it to her, I have done well.

Happy Birthday

If my older sister had lived to be old enough to work, she would be 65 today and eligible to retire.  Here is our picture with our matching tennis shoes.  I miss her terribly and think of her all the time.  Even though she has been gone for nearly 60 years, her voice is still in my head. The sentences I imagine her saying to me are always kind and supportive and uplifting.  Her spirit has gotten me through some difficult times.  She died so young.  She was just a child actually.  And even though she died at the tender age of seven she remains one of the most influential people in my life.