About two hundred Minnesota high schools have soft water fishing programs. Owatonna is one of these schools. They are trying to get it sanctified as a high school sport in Minnesota. (Just after Mother’s Day, I will be trying to get a sanctified Leech Lake walleye to inhale my bait.)
Did you know the New Richland Lions Club enjoyed their 50-year anniversary in March of this year? (I have been a Lion since 1973 in three different clubs in two different states.)
Along the lines of royalty in potatoes, an Irish potato married a sweet potato. To this union a baby boy potato was born. The question became what to name the royal baby. Ted Koppel was suggested but was deemed not fitting for a royal baby, as Ted Koppel was just a commentator.
“It’s spring, we are so excited we wet our plants.” Can you find the retail business in Freeborn County with that slogan? Hint: the CEO’s name is Michelle Peterson of Clarks Grove.
Genie and I are members of the cotillion dinner dance club that meets at the Austin Country Club monthly from June to December. We eat first, then try to dance the great meal calorie-gain away. (It must be working, as that is the time of the year I lose weight!) Are you required to dance every dance? No, but you are required to pay for the meal and through membership pay for the band. Age is a requirement, with a minimum of 21 and no maximum. Contact Genie or me at (507) 373-8655 to join.
Shortly after getting home to Albert Lea from Harrison, Arkansas, we received a copy of “The Sentinel,” the local daily newspaper in Harrison, from cousin Sandy of that place. The editor’s column had comments about the “bomb cyclone” that hit the upper Midwest the second week in April of this year. The editor went on to say a “bomb cyclone” is when there is a rapid drop in air pressure and a storm gains strength explosively. Many older Harrison residents refer to this as, “When all hell breaks loose.” I contacted the editor to clarify. The editor replied with newspaper clippings and stories that happened to warrant the man on the street referring to such a storm as “when all hell breaks loose.”
There have been four such storms to hit Harrison since the 1920s, with the following unusual events to justify them being a “bomb cyclone”: cars have started by themselves; thermometers have exploded; people have suddenly no longer required glasses; tires with air have gone flat; gas has disappeared from vehicle gas tanks; radios and TVs have come on even though the dial is in the “off” position; pine trees have exploded; water has been observed running uphill; a rash of newborn babies just before the storm and none the first few days after the storm (this happened in all species of life); a riderless lawn mower mowing a path into a pond.
The editor closed by asking if I agreed with the older Harrison residents’ terminology of a “bomb cyclone.” My Lutheran answer was, “And this is most certainly true when all hell breaks loose.” He promised to let me know when the next “bomb cyclone” was predicted in Harrison.
Bob is a retired AAL (Aid Association for Lutherans) agent, currently working on his master’s degree in Volunteering. His wife, Genie, is a retired RN, currently working on her doctor’s degree in Volunteering. They have two children, Deb in North Carolina, and Dan in Vermont. Bob says if you enjoy his column, let him know. If you don’t enjoy it, keep on reading, it can get worse. Words of wisdom: There is always room for God.