Compostings (267)
Echoes From the Loafers' Club Meeting
Good morning.
Right back at you. What have you been up to?
Why? What have you heard?
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: I’m not saying that coupons are extinct, but all mine have expired. If you want to exceed expectations, step on a bathroom scale. I learned early in life that there was no need to take reading material to the outhouse in January in Minnesota.
Spring Brought a good crop of sticks
Sticks, unlike money, grow on trees. Sticks that fall in the yard are picked up, but they still stick around.
I led a bird walk in Arizona. A friend stepped in some dog poop. It wasn’t a small pile. It was of epic proportions and some canine likely hurt itself. The dog was definitely running on empty. I felt sorry for the man who had stepped in it. I should have felt sorrier, but I couldn't. I was too happy about not being the one who’d stepped in it.
He searched for a stick to clean his shoe. He couldn't find one. I should have brought one from Minnesota.
Here’s my advice. Walk softly and carry a small stick.
Reading while driving
The Cadillac’s license plate read, "ATN GETR." The Virginia car had a sign on it reading, "Warning: Loud music." The vanity license plates on another car read, "NOZ PRNTS." Nosy parents, I speculated. Later, I encountered the driver who told me that he raised dogs. The plate was meant to indicate "nose prints."
I picked up my rental car in Phoenix, it was an Econobox 500, and I headed down the highway during rush hour. Rush hour certainly is a misnomer. As I drove through Phoenix, I realized that everyone else was, too. We were moving at the pace of a limping snail. I was behind a car with a plate reading "YOU4EAH." I was euphoric once I got away from all that traffic. In Cottonwood, Arizona, I was passed by a gigantic, four-wheel-drive pickup truck bearing the plate, "CHAOSX4."
Bumper stickers and vanity license plates are dangerous. Drivers might need to reach unsafe speeds in order to get close enough to read them and then tailgate while reading.
A Kia Sportage sportaged past. It zoomed around me, in a hurry to get someplace where Sportages go. Sportage is an odd name, but the name said it all. I'm not sure what it said, but it said it all.
Born free, my uncle was a doctor
Edward Free is a retired doctor in Prescott, Arizona. He told me he’s 92 and wants to live to be at least 100. That's because he’d shopped in a store with a sign that read, "Over 80 years of age, 10 percent off. Over 90, 15 percent off. Over 100, 100 percent off." He hopes the store will allow him to bring U-Haul trailers.
Traveling man
I was slaving away in Arizona, speaking at things. As I prepared to send an email to someone, I noticed that autocorrect had changed "slaving" to "slacking." The truth hurts. I rented a car in Phoenix. The temperatures were well into the 90s and the sun beat down. There was a high level of grogginess engulfing the crowd. Half the people renting a car looked too tired to be driving. The car rental company should have tossed in a sun shade for the windshield. There wasn't enough shade to go around when it came to parking.
Nature notes
Karen Vanderploeg of Hollandale asked how to keep grackles from hogging the feeders. Common grackles are common in yards. They eat like a bird — voraciously. They prefer seed offered on platform feeders or scattered on the ground. They find tube feeders, especially those with short perches, less to their liking. Perches can be trimmed or eliminated so that only small birds can find footing. A feeder could be enclosed in a wire cage that allows smaller birds entry while excluding grackles. This could be a do-it-yourself project or a commercial feeder. A nyjer feeder attracts goldfinches instead of grackles. Some feeders are equipped with mechanisms that close feeding ports when larger birds get on them. Safflower isn’t a grackle’s favorite food. Cheap seed mixes attract grackles.
Meeting adjourned
"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough—and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend."- Melody Beattie. Be kind.
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. Our 50th.
Congratulations.
For our 25th, I took my wife to Alaska.
What are you going to do for your 50th?
I’m going back to Alaska to get her.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: A good listener is one who is still listening after hearing someone say, "When I was your age." The three-second rule becomes a five-minute rule when we drop someone else's food. Why can't we parallel park without turning down the volume on the radio?
The cafe chronicles
The waitress answered our questions before we asked them, "The reason the sugar-free cookies are so good is that they have sugar in them. Just scrape off the part of any food that tastes funny. If you want instant coffee, you'll have to wait. The special is a little tough. I don’t recommend that anyone with under 25 teeth order it."
A Loafer was one of those guys when asked, "How are you?" thinks it's a real question. He’d sat where a chair wasn’t and had trouble sitting anywhere now. He wasn’t one to spread good cheer. "You don't need a reservation to eat here," he grumbled, "but you’ll have reservations about eating here again."
First grade was first class
If Lewis Carroll, author of "Through the Looking-Glass," had been there, he’d have said, "'The time has come,' the Walrus said, 'To talk of many things: Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—Of cabbages—and kings—And why the sea is boiling hot—
And whether pigs have wings.'"
I could have said that, instead, I asked the first-grader, "What did you do today?"
"I had fun," came the reply.
"What was the most fun part of your day?" I said.
"All of it," was his answer.
I’m here. It seems as if I were just there, but I think I want to be a first-grader again.
The news from Hartland
Buck and Penny celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. The couple has always gotten along well, even though he likes money more than she does.
Reverend Dale E. Bread is capable of giving a long prayer or a short prayer. It depends on how long it takes the food to cool enough to be eaten.
Afterwords
A friend regularly became agitated while watching local basketball games. In an attempt to quiet his verbal assaults on the officials, the school authorities made him the official timekeeper. That worked well until one game when he found the officiating so horrendous that he could no longer remain silent. The referee asked, "I thought you were supposed to be the timekeeper."
He responded, "And I thought you were supposed to be a referee."
My mother had just had cataract surgery. She was anxious to resume driving. The cataracts had been dimming her eyesight for years. She made light of that fact. As she rode home with the family after the operation, she commented, "When did they start putting those lines on the highway?"
My zipper broke. I didn’t notice it until I was in the middle of a number of appointments. I had no duct tape, safety pin or stapler to repair that bit of my trousers. I tried a paper clip, but it wasn’t much help. When such things happen to you, do you tell people about it or hope they won’t notice? I solved the problem by walking backwards.
A traveling man
On a visit to England, I found the residents extremely nice and polite. They reminded me of a bad joke. "How do you get a Brit to apologize?" You step on his foot.
I caught a taxi to the airport. It was a spiffy car with a pleasant driver. The fare seemed high, but the cabbie went the extra mile.
Nature notes
"What can I do for an injured bird?" If it’s a raptor or a vulture, contact the Raptor Center located at the University of Minnesota in St. Paul at 612-624-4745. For other injured or orphaned birds and mammals, call the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center in Roseville at 651-486-9453.
Nature on the radio
Please join me as I share some of nature’s stories every Tuesday morning after the 10 o’clock news on KMSU, 89.7 or 91.3 on the FM dial. Look to www.KTOE.com and Talk of the Town with Pete Steiner to find archived podcasts of the shows on KTOE.
Meeting adjourned
"We rise by lifting others." — Robert Ingersoll. Be kind.
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
What are you doing today?
Nothing.
You did that yesterday.
I know, but I wasn't finished.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: Old age always comes at a bad time. If you think you will remember it, you must write it down. Today, 140 characters is a tweet. When I was a boy, it was my family reunion.
The cafe chronicles
I visited the table of infinite knowledge. The men there were participating in social media. It was the social media that has been around forever. Gossip.
"It needs more ketchup" was the daily special.
"What’s the difference between the $7.99 special and the $8.99 special?" asked one who is devoted to the pleasures of the table.
"The $8.99 comes with antacid tablets," replied the waitress.
I didn’t order the special because it came with beets and I remembered the day that we had beets as part of our tasty and nutritious school lunch. Then I had beets at home that night. Life had beet me down.
I ordered a number four. I was going to get the number three, but I figured a four would be at least one better.
Spring has sprung, maybe
I worked in Dallas the first week of April. Uffda, it was hot! April 5 and 87 degrees don’t belong together. A Texan told me that Dallas had no winter this year. I told him that ours had been fairly well-behaved. I described it for him. He shuddered and asked how we could tell when winter was over. That’s a good question. When is spring here? The robin is hardly a harbinger of spring. We see them during the winter. Maybe killdeer are a bit better at that job. Is it when the UPS drivers start wearing shorts? Do we declare it spring once all the basketball tournaments are over? Baseball, dry sidewalks, eating outdoors? Is it the lawn mower that rises from the melting snow? I think spring comes when we no longer have to kick the fenderbergs from our vehicles. Fenderbergs are that cruddy, dirty snow that builds up in the wheel wells of cars. No matter what you call those clumps — fendercicles, chunkers, tire turds, car boogers--once they are gone, we can’t kick them or kick about winter.
A traveling man
I check the weather back home when I travel. I prefer checking the weather in a newspaper. I know I can get it on my cellphone, but I like newspapers. I check the temperatures in the paper. Of course, Hartland, Minnesota isn't included in the periodical’s list of cities, so I read the temperatures for Hartford, Connecticut. It's the closest I could find to Hartland, at least in spelling. We get used to what we get for weather. I sat at a Loafers' Club Meeting at a cafe in Fairbanks, Alaska. Some of the sourdoughs complained that it hardly ever reached 50 below zero there anymore.
I saw a woman in Phoenix wearing a T-shirt reading "Royal Pain." I had no reason to doubt her.
I spotted a child’s seat with a tot in it attached to a wheeled suitcase moving through a busy airport.
I encountered a tractor-trailer rig with an arrow pointing to the left saying, "Passing side" and an arrow pointing to the right saying, "Suicide." The problem was that the vehicle was driving in the left lane of the freeway.
My departure gate at the airport had been changed. The announcement should have included the warning, "And no whining." As I prepared to hike to the new gate, part of the airport's physical fitness program (Motto: Making travelers even more tired), a young woman groaned, "Why does life have to be so hard?"
A woman in the Outer Banks of North Carolina and I shared our appreciation for Buckeyes, lovely chickens with pea combs. Buckeyes are cold tolerant, friendly, make varied sounds and have distinct personalities. They are noted for being good mousers.
I parked in the ramp of the hotel where I was staying. I felt validated.
Joyce Kilmer wrote, "The only reason a road is good, as every wanderer knows, is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which one goes."
Nature notes
"How far from water will wood ducks nest?" Wood ducks have been known to use tree cavities and nest boxes a mile from water.
Meeting adjourned
Life is too short to hate. Life is too long to hate. Be kind.
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
You think people don't like you? Have you tried a little kindness?
Yes.
What did that get you?
Suspicion.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: We all have those days where we’re not sure if we’re coming or going. My brother-in-law, Duane Swenson, reminded me of a fellow we knew years ago who had a door on each end of his garage so that he never had to back out. He might not have known if he was coming or going, but he knew that he was moving forward.
Scene from a marriage
"Did you forget to shave?" my wife asked.
"No," I replied defensively.
"Did you use a mirror?"
"I did, but I got up so early, my mirrored image hadn’t reported to work yet."
We all have our pet peeves. Something that irritates us like a chainsaw scraping a blackboard at 3 a.m. The travel-sized shaving cream I use when on the road comes in an aerosol can. Sophisticated men maintain that only a fool uses anything other than a bar, tube or jar of shaving cream, but the can works for me. The nice thing about being a fool is that we have our own special day, April Fool’s Day.
I follow the directions. I wash my face with warm water and leave it wet. I shake the can, hold it upright and press the top to release lather.
The problem is that the shaving cream can is like a ketchup bottle. To quote Richard Armour, "Shake and shake the catsup bottle. None will come, and then a lot'll."
That’s how the foam is dispensed. It’s either too little or too much. I’ve declared it a pet peeve, but I refuse to hold it in contempt.
I changed the subject by whispering something soft and sweet in my wife’s ear: "Vanilla pudding."
The perils of parking
I visited a college to watch a granddaughter's athletic endeavors. Where to park? Most of the parking places were permit only. Signage was lacking. I had a friend in college who paid the same in parking fines as he did in tuition fees. He parked illegally and then raised the hood of his car in the hopes that the tow truck drivers would have a heart and take pity on him. They didn't. I recall coming home from college one weekend. I’d caught a ride with a buddy, leaving my car at school. A blizzard hit while I was home. My car was parked on the odd side of the street when it should have been on the even side. Or maybe it was on the even side of the street when it should have been on the odd side. No matter, it was on the wrong side. My car was towed as far from the university as possible without involving a barge or an airplane. I paid a fine, a tow charge and storage fees. The bill exceeded the vehicle’s value. An acquaintance, who claims to have anarchistic tendencies, picks a couple of laws that he likes and obeys them. I try to obey all laws.
I finally found a place to park. I parked legally away from any rusty, banged-up cars. I figure if drivers don't care what their cars look like, they won’t care if they dinged mine. I parked as far away from where I needed to be as my car would have been towed to if I’d parked illegally.
Pink hair
A small town I know suffered a spate of deaths in a short time at a rate that if continued would have wiped out its entire population within a year.
I waited in line to pay my respects at a visitation.
The woman just ahead of me was young, but wore the hair of someone younger. It was pink.
"I like your hair," I said, because that's all a man should ever say about a woman's hair. "How did you decide on the color?"
"My husband grew a beard," she answered. "I told him that he could grow a beard if I could dye my hair pink."
Nature notes
"Do crows mate for life?" Generally, unless a mate is killed or incapacitated. However, if a young pair bred unsuccessfully, they might break the pair bond and start seeing other crows. A divorce, corvid style.
Meeting adjourned
The more time you spend comparing your life to others, the less time you’ll have to enjoy yours. Be kind.
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
When I was a boy, we got only a couple of TV channels.
That’s a shame.
It was a good thing. We didn’t have a remote control.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: I watched a family eat at a highway rest area. Nasty weather had forced them to dine in the car. I counted six kids in the SUV, each eating French fries with ketchup. The restaurant couldn’t have had enough napkins. It’s a rare car that doesn't hide a stale French fry. This has nothing to do with French fries, but I’ve found that I learn the most when I say that I don’t know.
My crowdom for a spatula
I watched five crows looking at flattened fauna on a highway. They seemed concerned as they stared at the roadkill that had been run over by many tires. It was obvious that the crow that was supposed to bring the spatula had forgotten it.
I quoted Red Green in the hopes that the crows found it helpful. "Remember, I'm pulling for ya. We're all in this together."
We all forget things.
A voice crying for peace
I was driving a tractor hitched to some implement that was changing the landscape. My mother brought lunch out for me. I was pleased. She seemed pleased, too, as she said, "I hope something is hot and something is cold and that they are the right things."
I was in a packed Perkins wishing Mom could bring lunch. We had ordered. As we waited, I considered shooting a sanitary drinking straw wrapper across the table, something I do with uncanny accuracy. I’ve a compulsion to shoot straw wrappers because I’m a knucklehead.
A baby cried. I lowered my straw cannon. The baby kept crying, proving once that a baby’s cry is louder than 100 adult voices.
A bibliotaph
"The cat does not offer services," William Burroughs wrote. "The cat offers itself."
I write for a living, which means that I must write.
The cat sits next to me on the chair. She makes a sound whenever I sigh or groan. She is my mews.
A bibliotaph is a person who caches or hoards books.
I might be one. I’m trying to reform, but I love books.
Too many books and too few shelves put me on a book tour from my basement to the Friends of the Public Library Bookstore. The problem is that I greet books as old friends and reread them before donating them. I read of Christy Mathewson, a great pitcher in the early twentieth century. Mathewson won 373 games in 17 seasons and was among the first inductees into Major League Baseball's Hall of Fame. His memory was so sharp that he’d play eight teammates at a time in checkers. I don’t know anyone who takes on one other in checkers.
Perhaps the cat would play me?
Tales of a traveling man
I learned that the road to Hell, Michigan is paved in asphalt.
I felt guilty that while standing at The Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, believed by many to be the remains of a great Jewish temple, I thought of Emo Phillips who said, "So I'm at the wailing wall, standing there like a moron, with my harpoon."
I stayed in Wood River, Nebraska. The owner of the place where I holed up had a Jack Russell puppy. Someone had wound up the canine. Around and around it ran. The carpeting was tattered from all the wear and terrier.
While visiting friends, Jim and Mary Lou King, in Juneau, I learned that their daughters had been born in Fairbanks on days when the temperature never got above 50 degrees below zero.
The news from Hartland
Echo Point goes silent. Name changed to Good Listener Point.
Man honored for 25-year career as sneezeguard security at buffet restaurant.
Winery received complaints about product. Owner said, "It sounds like sour grapes to me."
Nature notes
Is the robin the harbinger of spring? Robins are seen here throughout the winter, sturdy survivors dependent upon fruit, berries and open water for sustenance. Overwintering robins look worn after battling the elements. Like us. The new migrants, mostly males, are noisier, fatter and look tan.
Meeting adjourned
"Life is an echo. What you send out, comes back. What you sow, you reap. What you give, you get. What you see in others, exists in you. Remember, life is an echo. It always gets back to you. So give goodness." — Unknown
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
I'm trying to lose 20 pounds by my birthday.
How many pounds do you have to go?
Twenty-seven.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: A man of few words is a man without grandchildren. I’m growing taller. I know, because each time I bend down to tie my shoes, the shoelaces are farther away. If there is no airport in your town, are you living in Neverland?
The cafe chronicles
He was under the influence of gravy. He didn't tip with money. He left 15 percent of his mashed potatoes uneaten.
He gave me a birthday gift. It was a burlap bag. He grinned and said, "For the man who has everything, here’s a bag to keep it in."
He asked if I had a motto. I don’t. I don’t even have a tattoo. I asked him if he had a motto. I figured he did or he wouldn't have asked. His was, "Whatever."
He was thinking of getting a tattoo of the same.
Fred Rogers, Mister Rogers of children’s TV fame, said, "I believe that appreciation is a holy thing — that when we look for what's best in a person we happen to be with at the moment, we're doing what God does all the time. So in loving and appreciating our neighbor, we're participating in something sacred."
To nearly quote Mr. Rogers, "Thanks for being my neighbor."
That would make a fine tattoo.
The news from Hartland
The Taste of Hartland Festival has been discontinued after two inches of street pavement was eaten.
County commissioner runs on the platform that if elected, he will diaper all Canada geese.
A traveling man
We were coming back from somewhere and on our way to somewhere else. We’d been good, so we decided to reward ourselves with ice cream. We stopped at a Dairy Queen. I had a small vanilla cone. My bride had a blizzard. We have weather events now. In the winter, the event is usually a blizzard. We’re told that we’re getting more blizzards than in the past. Maybe it’s because Dairy Queen is making them.
I’d been hit with a case of lethologica as I walked a breakwater on Lake Superior. Lethologica is the inability to recall a precise word for something. I searched for the perfect word to describe Lake Superior. Perhaps none exists. A tourist brochure claimed that Lake Superior resembles a wolf’s head facing west. It added that the lake contains 10 percent of the Earth’s fresh water, enough water to cover the land of North and South America with a foot of water.
It was a wagon train
I liked the old cowboy movies in black-and-white. I especially enjoyed those featuring wagon trains. A scout would ride ahead to see what was over the hill. I've always appreciated people who are willing to do that.
I drove out of a busy downtown parking ramp. It was slow going. My vehicle had been parked on the fourth level. The ramp was packed and everyone wanted to leave at the same time. Backup lights were abundant and drivers antsy. I let some autos get in line ahead of me. It was the polite thing to do, but I wondered how many I should allow. Those parked in the reserved spaces butted their way into line. I’m not sure if it was rudeness or experience. I let seven ahead of me in three floors. The other 63 put themselves in front of me. Seven seemed like an appropriate number as I, too, was in a hurry. I had an appointment. I barely made it on time, but I knew that everybody else had dirt to scratch, too. I feel I let in enough, yet, I think I should have let more cut in ahead of me. I could have pretended they were scouts.
Nature notes
"Do birds have belly buttons?" An egg has a cord inside that attaches the developing embryo to the yolk sac. Instead of umbilical cord scars, birds have yolk sac scars at hatching, residual scars where the cord had been. The avian equivalent of a belly button is evident on a nestling. As the bird develops, that area becomes more compact, the scar fades and there is nothing to be seen of that scar on an adult.
Meeting adjourned
"Why kindness works. Kindness has pure intentions. Kindness is given freely. Kindness leaves a lasting legacy." — Ron Cooper
Echoes From the Loafers' Club Meeting
I got to work early this morning.
Way to go.
I worked all day and got lots done.
Nice.
I wonder what else can go wrong?
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: With the upcoming election, it seems like every man I talk to wants me to have an opinion — his. That’s one of the reasons I appreciate Chuckles’ company. Some think he is so grumpy that when he sees a lemon, the lemon makes a face, but he’s just quiet. He doesn't say much, but he nods a lot. He’s like the lazy dog that merely nodded when he heard another dog bark.
Busted knuckles and sugar cookies
I bought the latest model cellphone. It had just been introduced to the market. A week later, the salesman asked if I'd like to upgrade to the phone that had just made my new phone obsolete.
I didn't upgrade.
I grew up in a family that didn’t upgrade. We patched, welded, taped, nursed and scrounged. We made do or did without.
My father worked on a misbehaving farm implement. It was dark and he was toiling under the fading light of a troubled trouble light.
I wasn’t much help. I wore my T-shirt inside out in order to advertise that fact. I added a sluggish element to the farming operation. My specialty was getting in the way of Dad’s light. I made a better door than a window. My skill set best fit that of a gofer. I was the boy who ran errands and fetched things.
"Get me a 1/2-inch box end wrench," Dad grunted, having long ago dumped the "please" that might have fit on either end of that sentence.
My feet had wings. Down into a darkened corner of the basement I hurried, determined to do a good job and prove my worth. I didn’t take a flashlight with me. In my family, flashlights were nothing more than cases to hold dead batteries.
I grabbed a wrench and carried it back to my father. It was a 5/8-inch wrench. I recommended that Dad give it a try anyway, but there was no point. A lifetime of busted knuckles had given my father the gift of being able to instantly gauge the size of a nut. A slipped wrench is a good teacher.
I hustled back to the basement and brought Dad a 3/8-inch wrench.
Dad sighed and said slower than I thought required, "I need a 1/2-inch box end wrench."
I’m sure that he’d have liked to have said more, but even bad help was hard to find.
Back to the basement I went, like a boomerang wearing hand-me-down tennis shoes.
Mom had made some of her neighborhood-famous sugar cookies. She offered me one. I ate three. By the time I’d finished ingesting the treats, I’d forgotten what my father had wanted. I knew he wanted something.
I took him a sugar cookie.
Care for ketchup on that ice cream?
The neighbor boy, Larry, and I had been on our best behaviors. That meant we’d been staying outdoors instead of clogging up the house. When we did come into the house, my mother gave us each a bowl of vanilla ice cream as an edible good conduct medal. I asked if there was any topping for the ice cream, but the cupboard was bare. We didn't even have any Karo syrup.
I put some ketchup, which was the only exotic spice found in our kitchen, onto the ice cream. I put it on Larry's ice cream, too. An uncle had told me that ketchup made everything better. I’d even considered gravy as it covered a multitude of sins. I worried that my mother would have been unable to roll her eyes far enough back had she seen me applying gravy to ice cream.
I discovered that ketchup was no improvement over plain vanilla ice cream.
Larry and I finished our ice cream/ketchup combo.
It was still ice cream. Even bad ice cream was good. Liver and onions ice cream would be edible.
I haven’t eaten ketchup on ice cream since that day.
Nature notes
A robin lives two years on average. Fledged robins experience an annual mortality rate of 50 percent. Only 40 percent of nests produce young and 25 percent of those young survive to November.
Meeting adjourned
"Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love." — Lao Tzu
Echoes From the Loafers' Club Meeting
You look familiar.
Oh, yeah?
I think I've seen your face somewhere else.
I don't think so. It's never been anywhere other than on the front of my head.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: Brenda Kampen of New Richland makes these nifty signs for the house. They look spiffy hanging on a wall. I hear them called boards, but they seem much more than that. Whatever they are, they are wonderful. My wife and I just picked up another one at a charity auction. It reads, "It is what it is." Whether a sign or a board, it is what it is. Someone important to me, used to say, "It is what it is. It ain’t what it ain't." She wasn’t my English teacher.
The cafe chronicles
"What would you like for breakfast?" asked the friendly waitress.
"Four strips of crispy bacon, two eggs over easy, hash browns and English muffins with peanut butter."
"Nice try. Here’s your oatmeal."
It’s all part of my education
Our shop teacher was involved in a chess game against a student. I wasn’t playing him. I’d lost the previous match to our instructor. Losing was a wise move for an underling.
Seeing as how my mystery woodworking project was in a standby position after having been glued and clamped, I had a bit of free time. Besides, my creation needed proper aging to define its identity. It turned out to be a stick and not a good one. Knowing that idle hands are the devil’s workshop, I needed another project. I found a magazine. I used tin snips to cut out some of the larger letters from the periodical and utilized wood glue to paste the letters onto a sheet of notebook paper. This way, I fashioned a ransom note to leave for the home economics teacher. It read, "We have your scissors. Will exchange for cookies."
Taking the elevator up
I was going up in an elevator in a tall hotel when I thought about the elevators of my youth. They were grain elevators, the skyscrapers of the rural landscape. Most small towns had one. There was an elevator in the largest city near our farm, Albert Lea, which was of a different kind. It was in a building and business both titled, Skinner, Chamberlain and Company. This department store, which seemed the size of the world to me, advertised itself as having "Everything to eat and wear."
It also had an escalator. My memory told me that it was an optimistic escalator and went only one direction — up. The elevator was similar to the one I rode in at the hotel, only with a shorter route.
I’d just received a call from a cousin about a death in the family. I instantly felt the loss.
The hotel elevator stopped at a floor to let someone off.
Life is like an elevator. On your way up, you have to stop and let others off.
As your age gains more experience, the elevator makes more stops and more people get off.
Tales of a traveling man
After I’d absentmindedly said, "Yabba-dabba-doo," I needed to explain who Fred Flintstone was to a fellow as we waited outside a pay toilet in Hungary. The Hungarian was impressed, I’m sure, that I knew that Fred Flintstone was a bronto-crane operator at the Slate Rock and Gravel Company. I hope that I didn’t do too much damage to international relations.
While visiting the Wright Brothers Museum in North Carolina, I wondered if there would be any paper airplanes if it hadn’t been for Orville and Wilbur. I knew that thanks to origami, kites and people like Leonardo da Vinci, paper airplanes had preceded the Wright's flight at Kitty Hawk.
I was in Anchorage, Alaska, population 301,010 and 1,000 moose, where I’d arrived wakeful and blurry-eyed at my sleeping accommodations, wondering if I wanted 2B or not 2B? I ended up in room 2A.
Nature notes
"Why are birds banded?" Research and management projects find bird-banding data useful. Individual identification of birds aids the study of dispersal and migration, behavior and social structure, lifespan and survival rate, reproductive success and population growth. Sampling wild birds helps determine the prevalence of disease in the population. An annual analysis of banding information from game birds is essential for developing hunting regulations and detecting changes in waterfowl populations.
Meeting adjourned
"It is higher and nobler to be kind." — Mark Twain
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
It's my birthday.
Happy birthday. I hope I look as good as you do when I'm your age.
Don't worry, you did.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: I may be crazy, but I can go normal at any time. Everywhere I go, someone is asking for money or bemoaning the lack thereof. It’s obvious that we can no longer afford ourselves. At a church gathering, everyone was asked how long he or she had been married. One man declared 60 years of wedded bliss. We all applauded. We found out later that the 60 years had been divided among three wives.
It happens in threes
Grandma said that everything happens in threes. That explained my early difficulties with arithmetic.
Buying a calculator didn’t help. I bought a cheap one. It worked fine except it was missing the number nine.
Grandma’s belief was most often applied to deaths, but covered things both bad and good.
Iris, Ruth and Les. When it came to being nice people, they each carried a considerable reputation.
Iris Bell and her husband Harvey owned the greenhouse in Hartland for many years. Iris was fond of saying, "The world wasn’t built in a day. That’s because Agnes wasn’t in charge." Agnes was her older sister and apparently, someone who made sure things got done. Virginia Anderson, Iris’s daughter, called her mother's sayings, Irisisms.
Ruth Pedersen was a neighbor. My father, a farmer, thought "moving to town" was a euphemism for dying. Ruth didn't believe that. She moved to town and lived fully. I stopped to see Ruth one day. She and a friend were putting together a jigsaw puzzle. It was a difficult one, something like a million-piece snowstorm. I brought her a couple of jigsaw puzzles and a hammer. I thought the hammer might aid in fitting the parts together. If all you have is a hammer, the whole world is a nail. Fortunately, Ruth had more than a hammer. One of the things Ruth had was something that was supposed to help battle the ravages of rheumatism. Drunken raisins. Each day, she ate six golden raisins soaked in rum. Years later, a kind reader from North Carolina sent me a gift of drunken raisins.
Les Honstad of Freeborn and his younger brother married sisters. Les and his wife had a long-lasting marriage, but his brother’s ended in divorce. Les referred to his brother as his favorite former brother-in-law.
I’m happy that these three people were a part of my life. I'm striving to be half as nice as they were.
Q-and-A
Just as in school, the questions don’t always match my answers. I love essay tests. I can say "I don't know" in 500 words.
"How do you like your toilet paper to roll — over or under?" I don’t care. I just like the toilet paper to be there.
"How do you travel?" By request.
"What’s the name of the north wind?" Brrrrrr!
"Why are there gopher mounds in my hayfield?" The gophers are competing to be the alfalfa male.
In search of perfection
One day, I walked along Lake Superior, watching a harlequin duck and a long-tailed duck as I listened to the gunshot and thunder sounds made by cracking ice. Not long after that, I watched my son, Brian, coach his girls' basketball team to their 22nd consecutive victory. He has some talented players who buy into the program — most of the time. Perfection and humans don’t spend much time hanging out together.
My marriage and my family are as close as I’ve come to perfection. When we had reached one of those marital milestones, 25 years of wedded bliss, a friend looked at my wife and said, "It doesn't seem possible that you have been married for 25 years."
Then he turned to me and said, "Look at you. Are you sure it’s been only 25 years?"
I don’t want to be perfect. It’d get in the way of happiness.
Nature notes
"Where did all the birds go?" Bird populations fluctuate. Habitat changes--trees removed, water levels altered or new construction could be why you’re seeing fewer birds. Natural food supplies–cones, fruits, seeds and insects–vary from year to year. Birds go where the food is. Weather or predators could move birds. Such fluctuations of bird populations are typically short-term, but could become long run.
Meeting adjourned
"The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention." — Oscar Wilde
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
The cherry pie is so good, I hid a slice.
You work here. Aren’t you being a little selfish?
No, I’m being a piece-keeper.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: Everything is never hunky-dory. There are few things that last longer than a temporary measure instituted by a government. I’d see more of the world if it were closer to home.
The cafe chronicles
The table of infinite knowledge gathered its members.
One of the group had lost a considerable amount of weight. His pants had become so big for him, it took him 10 minutes to sit down. The weather had been tougher than the steak special.
Even though he looked good in gravy, he ordered a cut of pork and drumsticks. Bacon and legs.
Sax-Zim Bog pasties
I spoke at the Sax-Zim Bog Winter Birding Festival in Meadowlands, Minnesota. It was a frigid, feathered, February frolic. Meadowlands, population 134, is located in St. Louis County, about 45 minutes from both Duluth and Virginia. Sax-Zim Bog is a birding hotspot and a well known wintering area for owls.
I stayed with wonderful friends, David and Helen Abramson, who are as good as people get. My car’s thermometer read —27 degrees as I headed out to go birding. A friend told me that his cellphone’s weather app showed —31.
Apparently, that wasn’t cold enough for me, as I birded the shore of Lake Superior, the largest freshwater lake in the world and a giant ice cube maker. Superior is the coldest, deepest and highest in elevation of any of the Great Lakes. It doesn’t often freeze over completely — the last time was 1996. Lake Superior could hold more water than found in all the other Great Lakes combined. Lake Superior is the size of South Carolina. A drop of water entering Lake Superior stays, on average, 191 years before leaving.
I devoured a pasty (PASS-tee) in Meadowlands. I have a fondness for the Cornish pasty that originated as a portable meal for Cornwall's miners who worked in dark, damp, underground mines. The traditional pasty had a filling of meat and potatoes at one end and apples and spices at the other. It was a main course and dessert in one. The crimp along the edge wasn’t meant to be eaten. It was a convenient handle that was useful when there was little clean water to wash hands before eating. It was grasped for eating and then thrown away. One end of the pasty was marked so that the miner wouldn't eat the dessert first. The miners reheated the pasties on shovels held over the candles that were worn on their hats. A pasty differs greatly from the sandwiches I typically make for myself. When I was a boy, I made a cheese (Velveeta) and/or sausage sandwich and stuffed it into my pocket. That added vitamin-enriched pocket lint to my diet. I cut the sandwich in half. I never cut one diagonally. That made too many sharp points. I could put an eye out. There are enough sharp points in the world without adding more.
Enjoying the day
Cold can devour patience with a ruthless carelessness. Dressing for it takes time. I put them on to go outside. Then I took them off when I came back into the house. I needed to put them on again to go back outside. I rebooted.
The wind was so strong that a friend, Greg Recknor, said that he needed to park his vehicle in a certain direction in order to open its door.
As Yoda said, "Do or do not, there is no try."
I enjoy the weather without even trying. It’s my day.
Nature notes
"How do birds keep their feet from freezing?" Even insulated footwear doesn’t always keep our feet warm, but avian feet are primarily made up of tendons, ligaments and bone. There isn’t much muscle, nerves and blood. Feet covered with scales are less susceptible to freezing. The proximity of veins and arteries creates a heat exchange in their legs. Birds are able to constrict the muscles in their legs to pump warmer arterial blood into their feet. A bird can stand on one foot, heating the other foot in the warm downy feathers of its body. Birds don't need to keep their feet as warm as we do ours. Above freezing will suffice.
Meeting adjourned
Be happy you are grateful. Be grateful you are happy. Be kind.
More...
Echoes From the Loafers' Club Meeting
Here's your coffee. For you, it's only a dollar.
How much is it for everyone else?
It's a dollar. Who do you think you are?
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: How often did Batman’s cape get caught in his car door? I saw a guy in a coffee shop who wasn't using a smartphone, a tablet or a laptop. He was just drinking coffee. Weird. I guess it takes all kinds. You know what I think about telepathy? Some of you do.
The cafe chronicles
Mother would have called him a good eater. He dug into the mashed potatoes with gusto. If he’d been a beaver, there wouldn't have been a tree left in the county. There had been a slight complication with his order. The beef tips were gone.
"Do you like cold chicken?" asked the waitress.
"Sure, you bet."
"Well, then come back tomorrow. It's still hot now."
The next day, I stopped at the Happy Chef restaurant in Mankato, where it had opened in 1963. It offers breakfast throughout the day. I find that appealing. There had been 56 restaurants scattered throughout seven Midwestern states in the Happy Chef chain. A 36-foot tall Happy Chef statue welcomed me. An employee told me that this iconic eatery was the last remaining Happy Chef with a statue. Happy Chef sponsored a fastpitch softball team for many years. For no reason, I thought about Meadowlark Lemon, the clown prince of the Harlem Globetrotters, who died recently. Lemon, who was known for his humorous hook shots, played in 16,000 straight games. He played 325 games annually. I was in one of them.
Tales of a traveling man
My wife asked me if I knew Paul Thompson. I know a few Paul Thompsons. I knew that one of them had died just by the way my wife had posed the question. When I’m traveling and she asks a question from home about someone that way, there is a good chance the name was in the death notices. He either died or won the Nobel Prize and I don’t think I run with a crowd of potential Nobel Prize winners. I knew the Paul Thompson who had died. He was a wonderful guy and I’m pleased to have known him.
I landed in Frankfort Airport. I had to, I was in an airplane. I couldn't have done it on my own. I made my way to baggage claim to claim my baggage. The handle of my suitcase had been fully extended and then bent in half. There were tracks on the suitcase. It had been run over by something. The bag had been ripped and some of the contents had become free-range. Over many years of spending time in baggage claim areas of airports, I’ve seen the contents of many broken suitcases on carousels. I’ve felt sorry for the owners. Now I was one of those folks. I gathered up my belongings and placed them into what was left of my suitcase. Fortunately, one of my items recovered was a roll of duct tape that I used to repair the damaged bag.
A friend told me that he’d gotten one speeding ticket in his life. He’d thanked the police officer for giving him the citation.
I suppose I should have thanked someone for demolishing my suitcase, but I didn’t.
Slopping the cats
I was given a small sample of cat food. I opened the package and placed it in the bowl for our two house cats, Ethel and Purl. They’d been entertaining themselves with one of those self-service petting stations. I told the felines that four out of five veterinarians recommended the food. It was a lie, but that didn’t matter. I was talking to cats. The cats turned up their noses at the new food. They snubbed it because they figured that the fifth vet must have been the only one who had tasted the stuff.
Nature notes
"Could I have seen a raven near Albert Lea?" It’s unlikely. A common raven is a bird of the north here, but I’ve seen them as far south as Sherburne and Chisago counties in Minnesota and I’ve seen photos of common ravens in Washington County. Historical records show a few sightings in Iowa.
Meeting adjourned
Jimmy Johnson said, "Treat a person as he is and he will remain as he is. Treat him as what he could be and he will be what he should be." Be kind.
Echoes From the Loafers' Club Meeting
You look great.
Thanks.
What's your secret?
I showered.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: A junk drawer is a time capsule. Don’t complain until you find someone who is willing to listen to your complaints. Never talk to anyone while they are writing a check to you.
Winter woes
I have a great affection for the seasons, but a blizzard can strain that relationship. A speaking engagement in Guthrie Center and a ballgame in Willmar were both postponed. The cat ate breakfast, declared the day to be a snow day and took a nap.
On a nicer day of weather for humans, I traveled to Iowa to speak. I drove in a semi-conscious state. I was aware of large trucks.
Iowa has great crops because the caucus provides enough farmland fertilizer to last until the next caucus.
Boxing and basketball referees
The young son of Mr. Wayne stumbled a bit on the bleachers and fell against my knee. It’s true. Into each life, a little Wayne must fall.
He wasn’t injured, so I didn't need to abide by the Minnesota Good Samaritan Law. That law states that if you encounter an injured person, a Minnesotan is required to say, "Have a nice day."
"I Never Played The Game" was a book written by Howard Cosell. Cosell became famous while doing cocksure commentary on "Monday Night Football" while accompanied by ex-football players Frank Gifford and Dandy Don Meredith. He said of himself, "Arrogant, pompous, obnoxious, vain, cruel, verbose, a showoff. There's no question that I'm all of those things." The New York Times had this to say, "He entered sports broadcasting in the mid-1950s, when the predominant style was unabashed adulation, offered a brassy counterpoint that was first ridiculed, then copied until it became the dominant note of sports broadcasting."
A friend told me that he’d tried to like Cosell, but Cosell made it impossible. The subject of Cosell’s book was centered on the fact that Cosell had never played football.
I sat on a slice of the uncomfortable bleachers. I had never played the game. Oh, I’d played innumerable basketball games, but this was a girls' basketball game. I watched as a granddaughter amazed me with a panoply of dipsy-doodles and sleight-of-hand. It gave my world a shine. A friend and former teammate was one of the referees. My wife waved at him before the game. He didn’t see her. That was no surprise. If he had good eyesight, he wouldn’t have been a basketball referee.
I was in a St. Paul eatery once when a fellow told me that he’d been a boxer in his youth. His friend chided him that the man's pugilistic skills had been such that he’d taken too many punches.
The ex-boxer admitted the same by saying, "I never let one get by me."
Basketball referees try to do that with their officiating. They do a good job.
February birthdays
My wife's birthday is February 4, my granddaughter Everly’s is February 5 and my mother’s was February 6. Three ladies who had corralled my love. When I think of the happiness they have brought me, I want to snort milk through my nose.
In Jewish culture, it's a tradition to leave a small stone atop a gravestone, as a way to honor the deceased and mark a visit. I find it an act worth emulating and placed a stone on the graves of my parents. It was a loving "thank you" gift even if it wasn’t giftwrapped.
Neighborhood Block Party
The Neighborhood Block Party took place at the end of January at the Jared Knutson farm. It was a potluck of epic proportions. I appreciate Jared and his family for all their work. They aren't slovenly folks, but it takes time to clean a big shed enough to hold a teeming throng. Even though I had nothing to do with organizing the fine affair, my neighbors fondly refer to me as the neighborhood blockhead. I couldn’t be more proud.
A gambling tip
I lost a dollar in a slot machine once. It has been my lone venture into casino gambling. I played the penny machine. It took a long time to lose a dollar. I'd win a little and lose a little until the buck was finally gone. I’m still smarting from the loss, but I learned something about casinos that I hope you might find helpful. The person seated next to you will always have better luck than you will. So try to get there early and get that seat before he or she does.
Nature notes
A reader from Mankato asks, "Why doesn’t a duck’s quack echo?" It does echo. I’ve heard it. This is a myth perpetuated by online lists.
Meeting adjourned
"An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind."– Mohandas Gandhi. Be kind.
Echoes From the Loafers' Club Meeting
My brother-in-law is as dumb as a ghost.
Don’t you mean to say that he’s as dumb as a post?
Oh, you know him?
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: Get your hopes up. What better use is there for them? I’d hoped for a nap. My wife wanted to go to a movie. We reached a compromise. I slept through the movie. I knew it was a "chick flick" because she was crying when I woke up.
The cafe chronicles
Winter is a good conversation piece.
There are two sides to every approaching blizzard.
"They keep talking about a foot of snow, but it doesn't look like it to me," said a Loafer in a place where you could get breakfast at anytime as long as you have a beef commercial for breakfast.
Those seated at the table of infinite knowledge were good guys. Some were boastful and some overstated their imperfections. Others were quiet listeners. Thanks to these differences, the talk averaged out to be somewhere near the truth.
"I eat here and a week later, I’m hungry again," said another Loafer who’d claimed he’d eaten a bag of mixed jelly beans without once looking to see what color jelly bean he was eating. He might have thought he was living on the edge, but we knew he was lying.
From the mailbag
Roger Batt of Algona sent this, which I’ve edited slightly: On the sixth day, God turned to the Archangel Gabriel and said, "Today, I am going to create a land called Minnesota. It will be a land of outstanding natural beauty; a land of 10,000 beautiful lakes, each full of fish. It shall have tall majestic pines, peacefully flowing rivers, a landscape full of buffalo, tall grass, and eagles, beautiful blue skies, forests full of bear, elk and moose, and the richest of farmland. I shall make the land so rich in resources, the inhabitants will prosper and they shall be the friendliest of people, practicing being Minnesota Nice every day."
"But Lord," asked Gabriel, "don't You think You are being too generous to these Minnesotans?"
"Not really," replied God, "Just wait and see the winters I am going to give them."
Those thrilling days of yesteryear
A skunk got into one of the holes of our outhouse when I was a boy. I was instructed to place a plank into the hole so that the skunk could use it to climb out. I did as told. Checking later, I found that a second skunk had used the plank to climb down into the hole.
The skunks left eventually. I was given a reward for my fine skunk-removal work, one of those all-day suckers. A neighbor boy stopped by. My mother insisted that I split the candy evenly with him. That didn’t seem fair, but if I’d complained, my mother would have said that life wasn’t fair. How do you divide a sucker in half? Alternate licks seemed unsanitary even in a time when few things did. I came up with the idea to hit the sucker with a hammer. I hit it and the sucker shattered into countless pieces. That was the day I learned that you could never give a sucker an even break.
As the sweet sucker shrapnel, having ricocheted off every wall in the house, settled into place, I used a word befitting the occurrence. It’s not even considered a swear word today, but I didn’t say it today. My aunt, who was visiting, made a face. I hadn't seen her there or I would have watched my French. "Did you hear what I said?" I asked.
"I'm afraid I did," my aunt replied.
"Well, I hope you know that you shouldn’t believe everything you hear."
Nature notes
Blue jays carry food in their throat and upper esophagus — in an area called a “gular pouch.” A blue jay can carry two or three acorns in that pouch, another one in its mouth, and one more in the tip of its bill. In this way, it can carry five acorns at once to store for eating later. Jays fitted with radio transmitters were found to cache 3,000-5,000 acorns each in the fall. They have a fondness for acorns and a great skill in selecting healthy ones.
Meeting adjourned
A Chinese proverb says, "Water and words — easy to pour, impossible to recover." Make your words kind ones.
Echoes From the Loafers’ Club Meeting
This year, I’ve resolved to be kinder and to stop lying.
What do you lie about?
About being kinder.
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: What does this mean? YYUR YYUB ICUR YY4Me. Too wise you are. Too wise you be. I see you are too wise for me. What do you call a Chihuahua in the winter? A chili dog. People who refuse to drive in a roundabout are out of the loop.
The cafe chronicles
Everything is followed by a cold spell. It’s winter, but my appetite refuses to adopt winter hours.
The waitress asked if I wanted a table or a booth.
I asked in return, "A chair or a sofa?"
I chose a sofa, a place where I could nap until the food arrived.
A scene from a marriage
"We need to go to town."
I tried to ignore what she was saying.
"I need to go to the store."
I wondered which store?
"I need to do some grocery shopping."
Food? My ears went on alert.
"We’re out of bacon."
Suddenly, I was in the car, honking the horn.
Nothing is what we expect it to be, especially winter
My wife and I were standing outdoors collecting donations for a charity. The accelerator stuck on an SUV about to go by. It rammed into a car containing five young children pushing it into a mini-van. The saving grace was that no one was hurt.
Due to the accident, many people got to spend time outside in winter weather that they hadn’t planned on. I thought of all the people in the world who don’t get any snow or frigid temperatures. The poor things are deprived.
We winter well here. Some neighbors winter well in Texas, but even they’ve practiced winter survival. We’re used to winter. When a glacier returns, schools are two hours late. Because they were riding in warm cars, not everyone involved in the accident was dressed for winter. Winter is when we need to expect the unexpected. It’s a hard thing to do, but we must respect the cold. I enjoy winter, but it’s out to get us.
Another recent winter day was wind-assisted and the blasts of frigid air turned my car into a whistler as I traveled some distance on rural roads. I was dressed for winter —ong pants socks and thermal wedding ring. There was a hat with earflaps resting in the backseat because there had been an ear quality advisory issued by whoever it is that issues ear quality advisories. What is an ear quality advisory? It means that we’d be wise to wear earflaps if we want to continue to be able to wear eyeglasses or sunglasses and/or have a place to hang an earring.
A friend told me that she’d just gotten a new car. It wasn’t a brand spanking new car, but it was new to her. The car was equipped with seat warmers. They warmed the seat upon which she sat. They are just the things for those who enjoy having toasted buns.
I had a rental car once that was equipped with seat warmers. They were too hot for me. I needed seat potholders.
I’m proud to serve with those who are proud to serve
I sit on a fire committee. The committee works with fire departments, cities and townships. Two of the fellows that serve with me are Carl Anderson and Greg Bartsch. They are the perfect guys for the job. Carl was the fire chief of the Clarks Grove Volunteer Fire Department for 29 years and Greg was chief of the Geneva Volunteer Fire Department for 32 years. That’s a long time to do anything.
A conversation while crossing a county by car in the company of a spousal unit
"The weatherman said it was going to snow, but what does he know?"
"I see some flakes falling. The ground is turning white."
"This city has a population of 753," I said, attempting to change the subject.
"Wow, 753, huh? That and you are both incredible."
Nature notes
"What’s a chicken hawk?" It’s a common name for any hawk believed to prey upon domestic fowl. It’s called chicken hawk because that’s much easier to say than domestic fowl hawk. Some call them hen hawks. The term probably fits the Cooper’s hawk best, but the red-tailed hawk is most likely to be called the epithet. Small mammals make up the bulk of its diet. The Cooper’s hawk is an accipiter (a sharp-shinned hawk is another) and has short wings and a long tail that enable the skilled flier to dart through vegetation in pursuit of birds. A Cooper’s hawk’s diet is mainly birds.
Meeting adjourned
"When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people."—Abraham Joshua Heschel