Compostings (267)
ECHOES FROM THE LOAFERS' CLUB MEETING
“Who’s playing?”
“I don't know.”
“What's the score?”
“I have no idea.”
“Why watch the game?”
“I need something to watch until the next game starts.”
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: where does the road paved with bad intentions go?
I'VE LEARNED
1. To take the advice of the hairs on my arms.
2. I like being blessed when I sneeze. What else can a man do and have strangers bless him?
3. A little is a lot when it's all you've got.
CHRISTMAS IN THE REARVIEW MIRROR
Jean Shepherd’s wonderful book that became a swell movie titled, A Christmas Story, told the tale of a young boy obsessed with getting “an official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200-shot, range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock.” Red Ryder was a cowboy from a comic strip that made it big. Everyone told 10-year old Ralphie that he would put an eye out. My mother told me the same thing. I did get an air rifle. My father bought it for me at Einar's Hardware. It held at least 200 BBs and I didn’t put a single eye out. I couldn’t say the same for light bulbs. I tried to see how close I could come to the bulbs in the barn without hitting one. I became good at replacing light bulbs. That’s why mothers worry.
LEARNING LEFSE
Margarit Moe of Roseville was born in Germany. She met her husband, Harold, there. When she moved with her new husband to Minnesota, she tried hard to fit into a family of Norwegian ancestry. She got off to a rocky start. When she was served lefse, she put mustard on it. Fortunately, she and Harold were already married.
FROST PLUGS
George Lincoln of Frost and I talked of many things. We talked of what the residents of Frost are called. We dismissed “Frosties,” no matter how good it sounds. George suggested “Frostbites” as an appropriate name in the winter. We talked of old cars. We didn't lament their passing. George told of being a young fellow who needed to awake every couple of hours in order to go outside and start his car so that he could make it to work. We discussed the need for having a device such as an engine block heater or frost plug heater plugged into an electrical outlet during frigid weather. I remember such gadgets being regular Christmas gifts. Most cars had electric plugs hanging from their grill. I've seen a plethora of plugs hanging from cars in Fairbanks, Alaska. Some parking lots there offer electrical outlets. The first car I owned couldn't be driven into a wind. When I saw a speed limit sign indicating 55 miles per hour, I’d tell everyone in the car, “Hold on, I'm going to try to reach it.”
LUTEFISK
Gene Leif of Austin tells me of his friends. The husband is of Norwegian ancestry and the wife is from Mexico. They eat lutefisk with salsa.
CLEVER CAT
I watched the cat sleep. It sleeps 23 hours a day because it’s sleeping for nine lives. It was the middle of the night and the world was quiet. Suddenly, the cat's head pops up. Its eyes were wide and the feline had that “Oh, no!” look. I rose from my chair and looked out the window to see if I could pick something out of the darkness that the cat's keen ears had detected. I saw nothing. I returned to my book to find the cat sound asleep in my chair.
FWHA
The Federal Highway Administration's (FHWA) mission is to improve road safety. One-quarter of all travel occurs at night, but about half the traffic fatalities occur during nighttime hours. To address this, the FHWA adopted traffic sign retro-reflectivity requirements. Nighttime visibility of traffic control devices is becoming increasingly important as our population ages. Declining vision and slowed reaction times of older drivers require signs easier to see and read at night.
I drove home on a rainy, foggy night darker than the inside of a pants pocket. I saw the signs with no difficulty. What needs to be made more visible are the lines on the highway.
NATURE NOTES
Where might we see ravens? Common ravens are found primarily in the boreal zones of northern Minnesota. Ravens have shaggy throats, heavy bills, wedge-shaped tails, and guttural calls. Crows have slim throats, slim bills, square-shaped tails, and higher-pitched calls.
MEETING ADJOURNED
“Slow down, simplify, and be kind.” — Naomi Judd
Echoes from the Loafers' Club Meeting
“Your Christmas tree looks terrible. Why don’t you get a new one?”
“They don’t make them like this anymore.”
“Don’t you ever wonder why?”
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: even a little shopping is a lot.
It's not the gift, it's the recipient
In the movie, Christmas Story, Ralphie said, “Christmas was on its way. Lovely, glorious, beautiful Christmas, upon which the entire kid year revolved."
During one of my kid years, I wanted to give my mother a Christmas gift I’d made myself. The problem was that the only thing I was good at making was a mess.
I gave Mom a rock on which I’d used old orange Allis-Chalmers paint to letter "I love you" in a childish scrawl.
I wrapped it in the Sunday comics section of a newspaper.
Mom said it was the best gift she had ever received.
Miracles in the mailbox
It had been a good day. I was swimming in the sea of the season. Nice things had happened. I had found the long lost cap to a favorite pen and I had located old eyeglasses so that I was able to see to tighten a tiny screw holding my newest eyeglasses together.
I arrived home, bone weary from a day of ringing bells for the Salvation Army. Ringing those bells is payment for the air I breathe. I strode into my work-filled office. I looked through the mail — Christmas cards, bills, newspapers, magazines, and letters. The Christmas cards, tending to favor portrayals of cardinals in evergreen trees, buoyed my spirits. Then I opened a letter from an address unfamiliar to me. It was from someone I had met in Ohio several years ago. The envelope contained a small piece of paper. It was plain with nothing on it but words written in black ink. The kind words were cramped and filled the card, curling around the edges. Handwriting adds a dimension to our correspondence — a personality. It and the cards made me happy. Each was a miracle in itself. Where else could someone bring such joy to another for only 44 cents?
Being thankful
Years ago a storm hit. When you live where I do, winter takes the world by storm. The storm hit with the terrible blizzard trifecta — ice, wind, and snow. Utility poles snapped like potato chips. I'm not a winter wimp. I like our coldest season. It gives us vim or maybe it’s vigor. Still, it was hard remaining upbeat without power, heat, and water. At first, it was an adventure. We had no generator or fireplace, so we cuddled for warmth. Cuddling is good.
"Many are cold, but few are frozen," I said with a smile.
I wore long underwear as I struggled to read books by flickering candlelight. Reading by candlelight is an art that produces more red eyes than any camera trick could ever remove.
A creature of habit, I flipped a light switch whenever I walked into a room. They were as powerless as I was. I missed artificial light, but it was easily obtainable water that I missed the most.
As the cold became colder and the lights remained darkened, it appeared that we had entered the winter of our discontent. It seemed that the meek would inherit a frozen earth.
Days had passed before I saw that one of the many digital timepieces that blink the incorrect time in our house was blinking. The power was on!
I took a shower. It was amazing. It not only took the stink off, it rejuvenated my spirit.
Heat, water, and a switch that brings light are great gifts that I too often take for granted. I need to stop doing that.
Nature notes
I stood along the Chilkat River in Alaska. I was watching, photographing, and marveling at the bald eagles feeding upon salmon they had snatched from the river. My attention was directed to one eagle. A pair of ravens and a good number of magpies surrounded the big bird trying to eat a fish. The eagle was a lion on a kill encircled by hyenas and jackals. One raven waddled behind the eagle, pulled the eagle's tail, and while the eagle was distracted, the other raven snatched a bite of salmon.
Many people have wished a similar technique would work around the dessert tray.
Meeting adjourned
"Bless us Lord, this Christmas, with quietness of mind; teach us to be patient and always to be kind.”—Helen Rice
Merry Christmas.
Echoes from the Loafers' Club Meeting
"One day, you will look back on your life and realize that your best moments were when you did something for others."
"You want me to buy your coffee, don't you?"
"Yes, I want you to have precious memories."
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: great gifts are to give credit where it’s due, bite your tongue, write a friendly letter, call a loved one, and pay attention.
Merry Christmas
Gift bags change hands more often than a dollar bill.
It wasn't always so.
When lights began to grow on trees, we pushed tables together to make enough room to eat. We suffered from a full-nest syndrome. The kids ate at card tables with frail legs. Perilous dining. Plates of food went by at a furious rate. By the time I was finally able to take a bite, someone passed another plate heaped with grub.
After the meal had been devoured and the dishes were washed, we formed a circle of love. It was time for the youngest to pass out the gifts. As the radio played Burl Ives singing unwrap music, the gifts were opened as if it were a timed event. No rodeo cowboy ever had better times wrestling a gift. Shredded wrapping paper filled the air.
We watched tots playing with boxes and realized that we needn't have put any toys in the boxes. Soon, all the presents had been opened except my father’s.
He looked at his gifts. Most of them were the same size and shape. That was because most of them were boxes of chocolate-covered cherries.
Dad picked up a gift and said something like, "It's so pretty, it's a shame to open it."
We all paused to watch my father as he didn't open his gifts.
Dad reached into his pocket and removed a well-worn Barlow jackknife. If someone asked to use my father’s jackknife, he handed it to the requestor with the admonition, “Be careful. It’s sharp.” The blades had been honed thin by years of sharpening. He carefully sliced the cellophane tape in order to preserve the gift-wrapping paper. He folded the paper and placed it neatly on the floor near his chair. It took him longer to open his few gifts than it did for all of us to open ours. Christmas comes and goes all too quickly. Maybe Dad was trying to slow it down and take the time to appreciate the gifts.
As I recall the events of Christmas past, I realize that possessions never bring as much happiness as moments do. Cameras capture moments. So do memories.
When the past and the present collide as they do each Christmas, I know that happiness doesn't come from having things. Happiness comes from being a part of things.
I once owned a Ford whose gas gauge moved in direct response to the speedometer. When the car's speed increased, I could see the fuel level drop. There are those who claim that this is a common experience for humans around Christmas time. Folks see their joy level dip with each added activity and obligation.
Maybe everyone needs to open his or her gifts with an old jackknife.
I've been reading
This from The Log from the Sea of Cortez by John Stenbeck, “I have tried to isolate and inspect the great talent that was in Ed Ricketts, that made him so loved and needed and makes him so missed now that he is dead. Certainly, he was an interesting and charming man, but there was some other quality that far exceeded these. I have thought that it might be his ability to receive, to receive anything from anyone, to receive gracefully and thankfully, and to make the gift seem very fine. Because of this everyone felt good in giving to Ed--a present, a thought, anything.”
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I told the Holstein that people complain when they don’t get everything they want for Christmas.
Meeting adjourned
“Christmas gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.” — Oren Arnold
If you want to change life, you have to get up
Written by Jim LutgensEchoes from the Loafers' Club Meeting
"I couldn't find my car this morning."
"It wasn't in your garage?"
"It was, but I’d forgotten I had a garage."
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: Life has no remote. If I want to change it, I need to get up.
I’ve learned
1. We are all in shape.
2. To err is hunam.
3. To always give 100% unless I’m giving blood.
Those thrilling days of yesteryear
It was during that time of my life when I was a human TV remote and garage door opener. One of my best days was when I had enjoyed a glass of freshly-squeezed Tang and after the bus had dropped me off at school, I saw the janitor on the roof. That was always a good thing. He was up on the flat roof to throw all the balls down that had become trapped there during the year.
It happened just the other day
My mother-in-law was visiting.
There was a knock at the door.
I opened the door to a couple of sheriff’s deputies. I naturally assumed that they had come for my mother-in-law. I love her, but that is what I thought.
What they were looking for were witnesses who might have seen copper thieves at work. The thieves had stolen the copper from a lofty communications tower in the neighborhood.
They asked me if I had seen any suspicious behavior. I had not. The police officers left.
My mother-in-law breathed a sigh of relief.
Show and tell
Charlene Lincoln of Frost was a teacher for many years. One year, she had a grade school student bring a Cool Whip container filled with wood ticks. Charlene must have had a certain look on her face as the child said, “Don't worry, Mrs. Lincoln, I punched air holes in the cover.”
Milking
I drank almond milk the other day. I used to milk cows. There were days when I thought I was crazy to milk cows, but a guy would have to be nuts to milk almonds.
Tales from one marriage
Harold Moe of Roseville told me that when he headed to Europe as a soldier during World War II, his father warned him to look out for French girls.
Harold brought home a German bride.
His father had not warned him about German girls.
And from another
My wife and I were eating in a nice restaurant. It had menus that were hard to read because of the low lighting meant to provide an ambiance that encouraged ambitious spending. I pointed to a couple seated across the restaurant from us and said to my wife, “That’s us in ten years.”
My lovely bride glanced in their direction and replied, “That’s a mirror.”
Things are looking up for looking down
I was waiting for someone to pick me up at the ferry terminal in Haines, Alaska. I was looking up at the antics of magpies and ravens. A van parked near me, a man stepped out, and picked up a $20 bill from under his foot. I need to look down occasionally.
Nature notes
Trumpeter swans are the largest native waterfowl species in North America. A tundra swan is nearly as large as a trumpeter and both have a white plumage and black bills. Field guides show that a tundra swan has a yellow spot at the base of the bill near the eye. This is a good identifier, but not all tundra swans have this. Trumpeters don’t have this yellow spot. The trumpeter’s bill is longer than the tundra’s. Slight differences make accurate identification difficult. The two are distinguished by differences in their calls. The trumpeter swan has a deep, loud trumpet-like call. The tundra has a high-pitched, quavering call similar to a Canada goose.
The Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s FeederWatch found that the bird most likely to appear at your feeder in the winter is the downy woodpecker. The rest of the top 10 in descending order are black-capped chickadee, dark-eyed junco, blue jay, American goldfinch, white-breasted nuthatch, northern cardinal, hairy woodpecker, house sparrow, and house finch.
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I told the Holstein that when it comes to weather, I expect the unexpected.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “Doesn’t expecting the unexpected make the unexpected the expected?”
Meeting adjourned
A kind word blesses the giver as much as the receiver.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“I’m on a diet where I eat nothing but pizza, doughnuts, and ice cream.”
“Do you think you will lose weight that way?”
“I doubt it, but I’m willing to try.”
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: possessions are never a true measure of worth.
Not part of the school lunch program
BIC pens were popular when I was in junior high. Students used black or blue pens. Teachers employed red pens to correct papers. BIC pens claimed to write, “First time, every time.” TV commercials showed BIC pens still writing after being shot from guns or strapped to ice skates. The pen had a cap covering the writing point and a plug at the other end. The plug discouraged ink smugglers. I gnawed on BIC pens. I was chewing on a pen in study hall. It was a well-chewed pen and the pen’s structure had begun to disintegrate. The plug popped out and went down my gullet. I enjoyed having beanie weenies, tater tot hotdish, or hamburger gravy on mashed potatoes for lunch. I wasn’t enamored with eating pen parts. The plug stuck in my throat. I coughed enough to embarrass myself and dislodge the plug. The freed piece continued its journey to my stomach. I considered penning the Idiots Guide to Chewing Pens. I didn’t stop using BIC pens. They proved useful in untangling audio cassettes. If I could do it all over again, I’d swallow the plug with hamburger gravy.
Time changes
I was here and there. I flew from Juneau, Alaska to Seattle, Washington. Seattle is an hour ahead of Juneau. I then flew from Seattle to Minneapolis. Minneapolis is two hours ahead of Seattle. By the time I arrived home, I was already three hours behind.
Hotel horrors
The hotel’s thin walls drew our attention to the drama in the next room. A harsh male voice found space for swear words in every sentence.
A woman's voice was shrill. She cried intermittently.
A second man's voice caused the first man to become louder. An exchange of slurred words produced protestations from the woman.
Screamed threats led to violence. In the midst of toppling furniture, bodies crashed against walls.
My wife called the police. We heard an officer knock on the door. His voice was calm and reasoning.
The door opened and closed. It was quiet. I hoped it was a good sign and that everyone would get it right.
Washington, D.C.
I spoke in Washington, D.C. and then followed a friend, Loren Ingebretson, on a walking tour. I slogged through history and rain. I didn’t carry an umbrella. I was afraid I might put an eye out. The rain rushed down as I hiked the iconic landscape. I learned to swim while walking.
I lobbied a bit while in our nation’s capital. Lobbying is organized whining. I met with two senators and a congressman. They listened. They listen to many people. Our elected officials are no better or worse than we are. Well, some might be worse. A congressman from Illinois proclaimed that Washington shouldn’t put one more dollar of debt upon the backs of his kids — the same kids he owed $117,437 in delinquent child support.
The District of Columbia is not a state, but if it were, it would have nearly ten times the lawyers per capita of any other state. According to Allstate Insurance, it has the nation’s worst drivers.
Thanksgiving in the rearview mirror
“Have a piece of pumpkin pie.”
The familial voice offered and ordered. I didn’t need pie. It wasn’t even pumpkin pie. It was squash pie. I had eaten an ample amount. I accepted a slice of pie with whipped cream. I didn’t take it for me. I ate the pie because I didn’t want anyone else to be forced to overeat because I didn’t do my duty as a Thanksgiving guest.
Nature notes
Blue jays remember where they have hidden food for several weeks. A number of bird species cache foods. Chickadees and nuthatches fill their throat pouches with seeds, fly away, and hide them in bark crevices, in the ground, or under stones or logs. Crows are adept at storing food. Research at Northern Arizona University found that birds remember caching locations by noting the positions of plants, stones, and other landmarks. If the landmarks were shifted, the birds erred by searching locations according to the landmarks’ new positions.
In appreciation
It was my pleasure to speak to 8th-grade English classes at NRHEG taught by Mr. Domeier and Mrs. Rudau. Great students and teachers.
Thanks to all who attended the New Richland Area Foodshelf fundraiser, to those who sent Hartland photos, to all who attended Cross of Glory’s soup and pie supper, and to the readers I encountered while speaking at Good Samaritan, Hidden Creek, and Oak Park Place.
Meeting adjourned
Give kindness away and it will return.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“My brother-in-law is an idiot! He was canoeing in my cornfield.”
“Why didn't you chase him out of there?”
“I wanted to, but I can't swim.”
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: It’s simple. Life is complicated.
I've learned
1. Not to confuse my needs with what others have.
2. A cell phone is a pay phone.
3. All things being equal, they aren’t.
Those thrilling days of yesteryear
My mother liked sales. Stores didn’t lower their prices. They just added “only” to signs showing prices. Sometimes she took me shopping. She bought what I needed, but little of what I wanted. I don’t blame her. I outgrew new shoes on my way out of the store. When I returned home from shopping, I told my father, “I’m so glad I’m home that I’m glad I went.”
Café chronicles
I asked the waitress for a large iced tea.
"We have only small and medium," she said.
It wasn’t right that they had a medium if they didn't have both a small and a large. Without a large, the medium, no matter what size it truly was, became a large.
I ordered a medium iced tea.
Ties that bind
I bought shoestrings for the first time in years. I replaced old ones that refused to wear out. I didn't like the old shoelaces, so they would have lasted forever. The new laces tied tighter and more securely than their predecessors. The shoestrings turned my old shoes into new ones. As I laced my shoes, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d broken a shoestring. A boyhood shoelace had numerous, ugly knots to keep it in one piece.
A self-inflicted wound
The weather report became one word, "Snow."
Another 10 inches of the white stuff fell. Road crews struggled to put the roads into better albeit it less-than-good driving conditions. I made it to the airport in the morning’s darkness.
The woman tiptoed to the gate of the Juneau Airport. She needed a spot to sit and rearrange herself after going through security. She carried one shoe under each arm. As I watched her circle her bags into proper parking spots, she ran over the toes of her left foot with the wheels of her largest suitcase.
It hurt. I knew it hurt because she exclaimed, "Ow! That hurt!"
Unwelcome company
I suspected that the airplane would be full, but as boarding progressed, the seat next to me stubbornly remained open. I hoped it would stay so. Comfort is best enjoyed in small doses.
A woman walked down the aisle. She glanced at her boarding pass and then at the seat numbers. She checked each row to her boarding pass, hoping for a match. She found her way to row 23. She struggled into the seat next to my 23F.
I smiled in her direction, but I didn't mean it. I wasn’t happy to see her. I’m not proud of that, but I had fallen in love with an empty seat.
From the family files
My son Brian planned to share a meal with his daughter Joey at her school. Brian dislikes catsup packets, so he carried a bottle of catsup.
As Brian and his three preschool children entered the school, 11-year-old Joey was waiting. One of her friends said loud enough for all to hear, "Look, your father brought catsup for everyone."
Joey said only, "Seriously, Dad?"
As the family unit walked closer to a meal, other parents commented as to the wisdom of bringing a catsup bottle.
With each compliment, Joey dropped another step behind.
Nature notes
Did your mother tell you, “You eat like a bird?” If so, you must have been a good eater. A chickadee eats as much as 35 percent of its weight in food each day. A hummingbird can consume its body's weight in sugar water or nectar daily. Canada geese devour grass like a lawn mower. A 5-pound Canada goose eats about a half-pound of grass per day.
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I told the Holstein that travel brings out both the best and the worst in people.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “So does everything else.”
Meeting adjourned
“A gentle word, a kind look, a good-natured smile can work wonders and accomplish miracles.” — William Hazlitt
Happy Thanksgiving. I am thankful for you.
Echoes from the Loafers Club Meeting
"I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."
"Is that why you are in such a bad mood?"
"No, I'm in a bad mood because I walked into a wall where I thought the door was."
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: society will ignore almost anything except someone getting in the express line with two extra items.
Marital bliss
Bill Egar of Bozeman, Montana told me that he snores loudly but his wife never hears it. She takes her hearing aids out when she goes to bed. He has to yell sweet nothings in her ear.
He does what he cane
Cheryl McRoberts works at the American Bald Eagle Foundation in Haines, Alaska. She has been troubled with fluid on the knee. A visitor to the Foundation forgot his walking stick there. When he returned to retrieve his cane, he saw Cheryl limping. He gave her the cane, saying that she needed it more than he did.
The mail must go through
Our rural mail carrier is Brad Spooner. Each morning he bundles our mail. He bundles the mail for each of the owners of a mailbox on his substantial route. He ends up with a car filled with bundles of mail. He drives the route, stopping at each mailbox. Driving from the wrong side of the car, he opens a mailbox, grabs its bundle of mail, and stuffs it into the mailbox. He closes the box and moves onto the next mailbox. There, he repeats the process by putting the next bundle in it. He arranges the bundles so that they are in an order matching the sequence of mailboxes. There is no truth to the rumor that if someone on Brad's route gets no mail on a particular day that the mail for everyone down the line is one mailbox off. No truth at all.
Tis the season
The snow hit hard overnight. Eighteen inches of white stuff fell. Snow tumbled from the roofs of buildings as if they were glaciers that were calving. Glacier calving is when ice disruption causes the breaking away of a mass of ice from a glacier. Piles of snow slid from house covers, eliciting responses such as, "Did all that come from one roof? I was in a small town in Alaska and needed to move my car so that the snowplow could do its job. My car was no longer visible. It had been completely enveloped in snow. It was a rental car that did not come equipped with a shovel or a snowblower. It was a snow of sufficient depth that a fellow could get a leg stuck in it. Three fishermen (two wiry guys in their early twenties and a gentleman twice their age) from Whitehorse in the Yukon employed two shovels. They freed the car from the grasp of snow and then pushed it free from the spot I had become mired in. The snow doesn't like to let go.
In the movie, It's a Wonderful Life, we learned that every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings. My wish for these three Yukoners is that they live long, but I know that when they do shuffle off this mortal coil, three bells will ring.
You can bank on it
I spoke with a banker. He plied his trade in a small town. In an attempt to make small talk, I asked what CD rate his bank was paying.
He replied, "We are paying 0%, but the good news is that rate is not likely to go down."
Housing by Sears
I stayed in a 1912 edition of a Sears house in Haines, Alaska. In 1908-1940, over 75,000 Sears homes were built. Sears kit homes contained 30,000 pieces, 750 pounds of nails, 27 gallons of paint, and a 75-page instruction book. They were not prefabs, but precisely cut kits that homebuyers built themselves or hired a contractor to build. The Sears home kits were shipped from Cairo, Illinois to their destination by train.
Nature notes
The winter color of the European starling is a glossy iridescent black with purple and greens, with the tips of the feathers having white stars. By spring, the white feather tips have worn away and are no longer noticeable by the breeding season. The starling in winter has a dark brown bill that changes to yellow as breeding season approaches.
Meeting adjourned
"Wherever there is a human being, there is an opportunity for kindness."--Seneca
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“My cousin is crazy. He’s so skinny — he stands 5 feet tall and weighs 250 pounds.”
“How can he be skinny when he is only 5 foot tall and weighs 250 pounds?”
“I told you he was crazy.”
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: People like crowds. The bigger the crowd, the more people there are who show up.
I’ve learned
1. A vacuum cleaner cord is never long enough.
2. Life may throw you but it doesn’t determine how you feel after you hit the ground.
3. To pick up discarded pennies. It’s good exercise.
A tall drink of water
“How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?” said the woman in a store.
I told her. I told her that I was a year younger than I really was. I didn’t mean to. For just a moment, I thought that was how old I was. I guess I was surprised when she didn’t ask me how tall I was.
When you are tall, people tend to tell you that you are tall. Complete strangers inform me of my tallness as if I were unaware of it. I wonder if that is true of short people. Do folks let them know how short they are? It has been a long time since I was short. I am tall enough that if I fall over, I’m halfway home. Because I am vertically enhanced, I am considering getting a tattoo of a short person.
I was in the store to buy replacement blades for my razor. Apparently, they are made of gold. I paid approximately nothing for my razor. Cheap razor. Expensive blades. As I've heard so often, that is where they get you.
The store was large enough that they had camping supplies for those who became lost in the store. I heard a voice, “Marco.” Another replied, “Polo.” Those two words were exchanged a good number of times by an extended family maintaining contact while shopping. I walked by a displayed shoe that caught my eye. I asked a kind and helpful employee if they had that particular model in a size 13. He went somewhere to check. He came back shortly and told me, “No 13s, but I do have it in a size 10.”
That information was as useful as a pocket on the back of my shirt.
Halloween
I was sitting at the breakfast table eating a piece of toast covered in peanut butter — smooth. I was wearing my “Yeah, I know” T-shirt. I had a big day ahead of me. Halloween was past. I needed to replace the fake cobwebs with real ones.
I recalled another Halloween. We were new to the marriage game. We’d grown up on farms and gone to college in cities. As newlyweds, we moved to New Richland. Halloween was coming and we quizzed the neighbors as to how many trick-or-treaters to expect. We bought candy accordingly. Then we bought more candy because we didn’t want to be one of those houses kids went to and left with less candy than they had come with. On Halloween, the children started showing up at our door. They didn’t stop. We ran out of candy and gave out cookies, apples, raisins, and cheese. We had to turn off the lights and hide silently in the darkness.
Mismatched socks
I presented a class at the Science & Nature Conference hosted by Gustavus Adolphus College. A young woman showed me that she was wearing socks that did not match. She said that was in style today. I had no idea that I was a trendsetter. I’ve been unable to tell black socks from navy blue socks for years.
In gratitude
My thanks to those who have commented on my columns in Bird Watcher’s Digest (BWD). I appreciate hearing from you and it is an honor to write for that fine magazine. BWD does much for birds and nature.
My thanks to all those readers I encountered while speaking at Fountain Lake Sportsmens Club, Freeborn County Employees, Hidden Creek, the staffs of many area schools, and Healthy Seniors of Steele County.
Thanks to the many who offered photos of Hartland.
Nature notes
Despite e-mails to the contrary, eagles do not mate in flight. A bald eagle nest in Florida was 9.5 feet across, 20 feet high, and weighed 2 to 3 tons. There was once a bounty on bald eagles in Alaska--up to $2 was paid for a pair of talons and over 128,000 bald eagles were killed for payment.
Meeting adjourned
If you don’t forgive, you allow someone to live rent-free in your head. Be kind to yourself and forgive others.
One way or another, we’ll pay more for heat
Written by Jim LutgensEchoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“I thought wisdom came with age.”
“You’re not becoming wiser?”
“No, as I get older, all I become is more tired.”
“Don’t worry, you can’t get much older.”
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 hard is it to put a shopping cart in a cart corral?
The heat is on
Many farmers didn’t run a grain dryer this year. Quite a savings in fuel costs. I’m happy for them, but I expect the costs to heat my home will rise because the providers didn’t sell enough fuel during harvest. If the farmers had encountered a year where everything needed drying, my prices would be higher because the farmers used too much.
A float and a flight
It was a pretty day. The landscape had just begun to show signs of fading to a brown. I was on the Pelican Breeze, a lovely boat that tours Albert Lea Lake. I hosted a group of cancer survivors. I brought two cliff swallows that I had retrieved from the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. Anita Hendrickson of Albert Lea raised lots of money during the Relay For Life and was chosen to release the swallows. Anita opened the cage. The cliff swallows took flight without hesitation. They knew that each moment is precious. So did the people on that boat.
The angry harvest
One year, thanks to things (mechanical breakdowns, bad weather, etc.) conspiring to delay the corn harvest, we were left with a couple of acres covered in knee-deep snow. My father decided that we would harvest it. He plowed paths in the snow surrounding the standing corn, providing a road for a wagon within throwing distance of the field. My job was to pull the ears from the cornstalks, remove the husks, and toss the ears into the wagon. It sounded simple enough. Even I should have been able to do it. The problem was that I had never picked corn by hand, as those of earlier generations had done so well. I’d been to husking bees and was impressed by the men, who seemed ancient, who picked corn by hand with a speed and deftness that matched the athletic talents of any Minnesota Twin. The corn was wet and the ears refused to snap off the plant as I had hoped. They needed twisting and tugging before they reluctantly parted company with the stalk. It was cold. I was standing in snow. I threw some ears over the wagon, requiring me to step in more snow in order to locate the ears that had disappeared into the white stuff. I got the corn picked, but it was an angry harvest.
The theft
He had a nice office in a one-story building. It wasn’t fancy, but it suited him. He’d been there long enough to have things just the way he wanted them. He kept a small folding scissors on his desk. It was one of the best purchases he’d ever made. It’s amazing how often a fellow needs a scissors. He grew to depend upon that scissors, held in a small recess in the base of his desk lamp. It fit as if it belonged there. It was important that it be kept in the same place. He knew where it was and the scissors would be there when he needed it.
He took a deserved vacation — a week in Grand Marais.
When he returned to his office, he struggled to get back into the groove. His scissors was gone. He looked everywhere for the scissors. It was nowhere to be found.
He determined that someone had stolen his scissors. He ran the likely suspects through his mind.
The young man who maintained the coffee machine walked by. He looked guilty. He walked guilty. He was guilty.
“Where are my scissors?” said the man in an unfriendly way.
The guilty young man kept on walking.
The man was so upset, he grabbed the telephone book to call the police. The directory fell open to the part of the yellow pages showing stores selling suitcases. He’d bought a new suitcase before his vacation. It opened to that page because there was a small folding scissors bookmarking it.
The young man walked by the office again.
The man watched him. The young man looked and walked like an innocent man.
I know hymn
At the funeral of Helene Ingeborg Eastvold, Ron Bartness told me, “Times like this remind us how important neighbors are.”
Kent Otterman and Corky Modene sang “I Come to the Garden Alone.”
“I come to the garden alone. While the dew is still on the roses. And the voice I hear falling on my ear. The Son of God discloses.”
I have heard that hymn a hundred times at a hundred funerals, yet it never fails to bring a tear to my eye. I miss Helene. She brought a smile with her.
Meeting adjourned
“Make kindness your daily modus operandi and change your world.” --Annie Lennox
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“I gave up shingling.”
“When did you do that?”
“About halfway to the ground.”
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: there is no rest for the wary.
I’ve learned
1. I remember commercials better than I remember the product they are advertising.
2. If you want to be a leader with a large following, drive the speed limit on a two-lane road.
3. If I am critical, people learn more about me than about the one I’m criticizing.
ABC (Already Been Chewed)
I was leading a bus tour. The good folks in the seats were from California. They were so nice that I was determined to make them happy.
One traveler said, “Boy, I wish I had some gum.”
I had no gum. I don’t chew the stuff. It makes my jaws tired. What could I do? I did the best that I could. I had everyone check under his or her seat bottoms for gum.
Car stories
It happened again. Someone stole my car and then returned it to the same parking lot but in a different spot. He doesn’t damage it or remove anything from inside; he just moves my car from one parking place to another. He even sets the odometer back so it appears not to have been driven. What kind of sick person gets a kick out of doing something like that?
I took my car in for service the other day. The oil has to be changed whether it wants to be or not. As I backed out of the garage, I noticed a multi-colored Asian lady beetle on the windshield. I drove 20 miles from my home to the garage. I hit 55 miles per hour. When I got to the garage, the lady beetle was still hanging onto the glass. I parked my car and the insect flew away.
What language does your dog speak?
I was once owned by a Chihuahua named Sancho, named after Sancho Panza, a character in the novel Don Quixote by Cervantes. I tried to train Sancho, but he learned what he taught himself. I couldn’t teach a new dog old tricks. He was a fine auxiliary canine, but Sancho didn’t do what I asked. He appeared to want to, but he just didn’t understand. Aunt Ingeborg stopped by. Ingeborg tended to be talkative. She overwhelmed little Sancho and he peed on a chair leg. What else could he do? In exasperation, Ingeborg uttered something in Norwegian. Sancho perked up and listened intently. It dawned on me. Sancho was a Norwegian Chihuahua.
Attempted speeding
I was motoring down Highway 13. I might have been going up Highway 13. I’m never sure. The car ahead of me was driving exactly 55 miles per hour, at least when measured by my speedometer. And why shouldn’t he have been driving 55 mph? That’s the speed limit. He stayed right at 55 and I was proud of him. He was so good at driving 55 that he did it when we hit a 50-mile per hour zone and when we hit a stretch of 40-mile-per-hour limit. He found a speed that worked for him and he stuck with it.
Nature notes
Why doesn’t a woodpecker’s bill wear down from the pounding it takes? It does, but it has a horny sheath that grows rapidly with wear. This keeps the bill sharp, strong, and resilient. It is sharpened with every blow. The woodpecker’s bill is reinforced to withstand repeated impacts as the bird hammers on tree trunks. To help withstand the bill strikes, woodpeckers have larger neck and shoulder muscles than most other birds. The brain of the woodpecker is small compared to body size, which distributes the impact over a larger area. The brain case is reinforced and the muscles at the base of the bill contract just before impact and absorb the hammering. The woodpecker is built to do what it does.
Soups and pies supper
Accompany your appetite to Cross of Glory in Hartland on November 2 from 4:30 to 7 p.m. Slurpers are welcome.
Hartland photos
If you have photos of Hartland’s past or future — people, businesses, etc., please let me know at 507-845-2836 or This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I asked her opinion on peer pressure.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “I worried about herd pressure until I took the herd’s advice and stopped listening to it.”
Meeting adjourned
Stevie Ray Vaughan said, “You see, we are here, as far as I can tell, to help each other; our brothers, our sisters, our friends, our enemies. That is to help each other and not hurt each other.”
More...
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“The door on the bathroom won’t stay closed.”
“I know.”
“Aren’t you going to do something about it?”
“I am. I look the other way whenever anyone is in the bathroom.”
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: you don’t have to believe everything you hear in order to repeat it.
I’ve learned
1. There is no such thing as an odor-free litter box.
2. “Ironically” has come to mean “coincidentally.”
3. The person seated behind you at a sporting event will have the loudest voice.
How to tell a winter
1. The wider the middle brown band is on a woolly bear caterpillar, the milder the coming winter will be.
2. The first trackable snowfall occurs six weeks after the snowbird (junco) returns.
3. The height of the galls on goldenrods indicates the depth snow will be.
4. Count the number of days from the first snowfall until Christmas. This will be the number of snowfalls during winter.
5. Frequent halos around the sun or the moon forecast a severe winter.
6. When leaves fall early, winter will be mild. When leaves fall late, winter will be severe.
7. An abundance of acorns is a sign of a rough winter to come.
8. Onion skins very thin, mild winter coming in.
9. Count the number of foggy mornings in August. That will be the number of snowfalls in the winter
9. If you have been paying attention, you know that there was already a #9.
10. If squirrels drive snowplows, it’s going to be a bad winter.
Facts or folklore? Probably a bit of each. One thing for sure, one of them will be right.
Putting on the pounds
We gain weight as we get older. There are many reasons that are given for this increase in size. The true reason we cast a bigger shadow with age is because of all the gum we swallowed when we were kids. Food sticks to our ribs because of the gum that is already stuck there.
A world record
At the Midwest Birding Symposium in Ohio, I took part in an effort to get into the Guinness Book of World Records. I was one of 801 people who did the call of a barred owl. It was a hoot.
Safe driving
Once upon a time, I helped put on safe driving classes. Included in the presentation was a student hitting the brakes of a car he or she was driving and learning how long it takes to stop. We preached that drivers should maintain one car length behind the car ahead for every 10 mph of speed. There are updated recommendations today.
I took to the freeway recently and decided to see if the old method was still useful. At 70 mph, I positioned myself seven car lengths behind the car ahead of me. It looked good. Too good. A car from the left lane pulled in front of me and settled into the right lane. I adjusted my position so that I was now seven car lengths behind the new arrival to my lane. I had to slow down a bit in order to accomplish this task and this required the car behind to pass me and then pull back into the right lane just in front of me. This necessitated my dropping farther back in order to maintain the required space. Vehicles kept leapfrogging my car. I continued to drop back to provide proper spacing; so much so that after two hours driving away from home, I was back home.
Soups and pies supper
There are many soup and pie suppers. What makes Cross of Glory Lutheran Church’s different? It’s a soups and pies supper. Silverware is available for those who feel the need to use such gear. Men are encouraged to wear soup blotters (neckties). Please bring your appetite to Cross of Glory in handsome Hartland on November 2 from 4:30 to 7 and fling a fang into fabulous food. Servers are standing by.
Banking on you
Help Farmers State Bank celebrate its 100th anniversary. The bank is looking for old photos of Hartland. Please stop by the bank or contact me at 507-845-2836 or This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. if you have one.
Nature notes
There is no scientific evidence that a surfeit of acorns foretells a mild winter. Mast crops are cyclical. Acorn production is a reflection of past conditions rather than a forecast. The weather when the oaks flower in the spring is significant. Oak flowers are wind-pollinated. Warm and dry conditions foster that process while cool and wet conditions have the opposite effect.
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I asked her if she had any words to live by.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “In the pasture of life, don’t be a cowpie.”
Meeting adjourned
Forget small slights immediately. Remember small kindnesses forever.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“Did I ever tell you about my Uncle Sid?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s good. I don’t have an Uncle Sid.”
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: nothing messes up an apology more than an excuse.
I’ve learned
1. If you are one in a million, there are 6,964 just like you.
2. When it comes to lemons, a rind is a terrible thing to taste.
3. The hardest thing about learning how to ice skate is the ice.
Moneyball
A movie called “Moneyball,” based on a book of the same name, is about the Oakland Athletics baseball team and its general manager Billy Beane (played by Brad Pitt). It presents Beane’s analytical approach to assembling a competitive baseball team without spending gobs of money.
I did that when I was a lad. I spent a nickel at Sibilrud’s and received five Topps baseball cards in a packet with a piece of bubblegum. I didn’t like the bubblegum and gum has to be bad for a kid not to like it. I grabbed the packet and rushed outside. I hoped a card would feature the likeness of Stan Musial, Mickey Mantle, Duke Snider, Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, Al Kaline, Roberto Clemente, or Harmon Killebrew. I freed the cards individually.
“Got him. Got him. Got him. Need him. Got him,” I said to no one and everyone.
No Musial, Mantle, Snider, Aaron, Mays, Kaline, Clemente, or Killebrew. Instead, I found the images of Marvelous Marv Throneberry, Wally Post, Jerry Zimmerman, and Elmer Valo.
I traded doubles with friends, but everyone had Throneberry, Post, Zimmerman, and Valo.
Some cards went into games. A boy flipped a card into the air. Another boy did the same. If the cards matched, the second boy owned both. If they didn’t match, the first boy won both cards.
I used clothespins to attach cards of guys like Marv Throneberry to my bicycle so that the spokes hit them and made cool sounds. It was a motor to a good imagination. It wasn’t good for the cards, but it was Moneyball.
I owe Marvelous Marv Throneberry an apology.
Spitting
I was sitting in the car, waiting for my wife to exit a store. When it comes to shopping, I help by waiting in the car.
A car parked near me and a couple got out. The woman spit onto the ground as they walked to the store.
I wouldn’t have thought much about it had it been the man who spit. I thought women were above that.
Men spit because they are men. It’s one thing that most of us are good at. It’s exercise. I’ve watched wrestlers spit in an attempt to lose weight. I watch baseball players spit out chewing tobacco for distance and accuracy. Major League Baseball causes flooding. Motorcyclists spit out bugs.
I’d considered spitting gender-based. Now that I know it isn’t, I’m giving a niece a spittoon for Christmas.
It’s a man’s world
Not long after I witnessed the spitting lass, I heard a woman say, “It’s a man’s world.”
A study showed that 82% of the people hit by lightning in the US are men. The world doesn’t know that men are in charge. If it were a man’s world, houses would have urinals, all towels could be used, and there would be only one shade of white paint.
Nature notes
State Farm Insurance estimates 2.3 million collisions between deer and vehicles occurred in the U.S. during a two-year period (2008—2010). That's 21.1 percent more than 5 years earlier, while the number of miles driven increased 2 percent. Such collisions are more likely during the last three months of the year and in the early evening. The chance of a West Virginia driver striking a deer over the next 12 months is 1 in 42. Iowa is second with the likelihood of a car hitting a deer being 1 in 67. Michigan (1 in 70) is third. Following in order are South Dakota (1 in 76), Montana (1 in 82), Pennsylvania, North Dakota, Wisconsin, Arkansas, and Minnesota (1 in 99). Drivers in Hawaii are least likely to hit a deer (1 in 13,011).
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I told the Holstein that my conscience works overtime.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “A clear conscience is a sign of a bad memory.”
Meeting adjourned
Kind words bring pleasant dreams.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
“It looks like you don’t know what you are doing.”
“Then why ask?”
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 hate limping—especially when no one notices.
I’ve learned
1. “Listen” and “silent” have the same letters.
2. If you pick enough flowers, you will encounter poison ivy.
3. Sequels are never equals.
My neighbor
My neighbor Old Man McGinty, the youngest Old Man McGinty ever, has nothing to do and he has to get up early not to do it. He may have a geranium in his cranium, but we depend upon Old Man McGinty to tell us what business used to be in every old building in town and who once lived in every house. He doesn’t watch parades because he doesn’t like to see anything pass him by. Old Man McGinty says that churches have lutefisk feeds even though they provoke extreme reactions because they promote religion. He says that each time he eats lutefisk, it causes him to pray twice. He says grace before the meal and then prays that he won’t have to eat lutefisk again.
Flying
I was in an aisle seat of the airplane. The flights were too far apart and the passengers were too close together. I was as comfortable as possible in such surroundings. A flight attendant began the safety demonstration, “Just do what I tell you and nobody will get hurt. In case of a water evacuation, do the best you can. If that doesn’t work, thank you for flying Southwest Airlines. There is a $2200 fine for anyone caught smoking in the airplane’s bathroom. Let’s face it, if you had $2200 to spare, you’d be flying Delta. So sit back and relax or sit up and be tense. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Another flight attendant spilled the tomato juice she was handing to the man seated next to me. My life passed before my eyes. The tomato juice missed me by an inch as it splashed on the tray.
“I hope this is the worst thing that happens to you today,” she said, as she spilled a glass of water on my lap.
Something to tell the grandkids
A friend, Kevin Cook of Colorado, told me that he had met his future wife in a zoology lab. They became acquainted when she asked him, “Could you help me find my rat’s spleen?”
That gives me misty eyes.
The body as a battlefield
My feet are vengeful things. Whenever I stub a toe, it gets its revenge by walking me to a place where I could bump my head. A sharp blow to the melon is supposed to remind me that toes have feelings, too. Why don’t I duck? My feet tell me not to.
Sometimes it’s important to lose
A friend struck out during a ball game. It was the third time in a row that he had gone down swinging. He was not having a good day and that would fuel his temper. He walked to the dugout and teammates moved away from him. He sat next to me. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t look at him, but I could feel the heat from his anger. I heard him say, “I’m selling my glove and buying a boat.”
I played organized sports for many years. I was fortunate to have played on good teams with excellent teammates. We won far more games than we lost. I admit that I enjoyed winning. That said, I’ve never had more fun in a game than when I intentionally lost tic-tac-toe games to a grandson.
Nature notes
“What are those tiny black insects that bite me?” Often called no-see-ums, minute pirate bugs are predators of spider mites, caterpillars, whiteflies, aphids, thrips, and insect eggs. They are beneficial insects that bite us in the fall. They taste us to see if we are edible.
To me, Indian summer is a period of warm, dry, hazy weather that follows autumn’s first frost and comes before the first snow.
In gratitude
I encountered wonderful readers when I spoke at Freeborn County League of Cities, Thrivent of Albert Lea, Hidden Creek, and the Pelican Breeze. Thanks to Ken and Neom Johansen of New Richland for the wonderful bird cards and to Craig and Penny Bell of Hartland for the cool books. Thanks to Eric Edon of Geneva, Bob Loken of St. Charles, and Harvey Benson of Harmony for their uplifting messages. Thanks to Harp Bartness of Hartland for the binoculars to use on nature walks.
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I told the Holstein that gravy is a bad cook’s best friend.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “Humans are lucky. Gravy doesn’t help bad hay.”
Meeting adjourned
You are never too poor to pay another a compliment.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
“I hate mornings.”
“Me, too.”
“Why do you hate mornings? You don’t have a job.”
“I know, but I have to listen to you complain about mornings.”
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 fall down. Maintaining one’s balance on a moving planet is not easy.
I’ve learned
1. That I’m not much of a shopper, but I do enjoy watching people drift across a busy mall parking lot in search of their automobiles. No age has a corner on the market of losing a car.
2. Happiness is a state of minimum regret.
3. To slow down for Dead Man’s Curve.
Ever wonder
1. If fireflies ever forget to turn off their blinkers?
2. Why Superman would leap a tall building in a single bound when he could fly?
3. If Noah’s Ark had a litter box or a poopdeck?
Washington, DC
I was speaking in Washington, DC and took time to visit some of the many memorials dotting the landscape. The Lincoln Memorial features a 19-foot tall statue of Abe Lincoln. He is sitting down. He’d be 28 feet tall if he stood up.
“Is statue, Abe?” I mumbled. I couldn’t help it.
As I stared at Abe’s shoes, I recalled something I’d been told. The number of horse’s hooves in the air on statues tells how the rider died. Two hooves in the air means the person died in battle, one raised hoof means the person was injured in battle, and four hooves on the ground means the person survived unharmed. It’s called the Hoof Code in tourist guidebooks. It’s not true. Andrew Jackson’s statue indicates he died in battle, but he succumbed to tuberculosis at the age of 78.
Nursing home diaries
I visited a friend in a nursing home. She lamented that her usefulness had ended. I insisted that her supposition was incorrect and that she still had much to offer.
She thanked me and added, “My problem is that I’m good at a lot of things that I can’t do anymore.”
It was a picnic in the park
I was on my way to a state park for a company picnic for ants. I spotted a bumper sticker reading, “Eat well, stay fit, die anyway.”
I love picnics. Where else can you hear something like, “Who brought this salad and why are the raisins moving?”
Or, “This cookie has so many raisins in it, it is a salad.”
Those thrilling days of yesteryear
I had just received my driver’s license. It was a life-changing event for a whippersnapper. I talked my father into letting me have the car. I was driving down the road when I spotted a friend and good guy, Donny Beyer, driving a car towards me. My feeble brain decided that playing “chicken” was a good idea. This is a game in which a young man aims his car at another to see who swerves first. Donny and I had faith that the other would veer first. Neither did and we scraped both cars. I tend to hug the right side of two-lane highways as I travel. I do so because Donny Beyer could be driving the next car I meet.
Traveling mercies
It was maps and naps in the good old days. I drove as my wife read the map. We each needed a nap. She assumed the navigator’s duties after I had driven 50 miles on a road that turned out to be nothing more than a crease in the map. That’s when Rule #1 became, “The wife is in charge.” Rule #2 is, “When in doubt, refer to Rule #1.”
Nature notes
“How do birds find enough food to survive during winter?” Birds search for food all day. They don’t Facebook. Birds read the world in ways we cannot understand.
“How many feeder birds live a year?” The first year mortality rate on songbirds is about 70%.
The adjectives for our seasons are, spring (vernal), summer (estival), autumn (autumnal), and winter (hibernal).
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I told the Holstein that I was looking for a bullhead recipe.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “I have one. It’s called ‘stuffed bullhead.’ You roll the fish in sand, wrap it in weeds, stuff the bullhead in a culvert, and buy a fish sandwich.”
Meeting adjourned
Without kindness, heaven would be empty.