Compostings (267)
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
You're eating a hotdog!
I am.
Who eats a hot dog for breakfast?
People who like hot dogs.
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: The size of a lawn has no bearing on a man’s need for a riding mower.
The cafe chronicles
There was a quorum at the table of infinite knowledge.
Each guy made one groan when he sat down and a moan when he arose. One was celebrating making it to age 70 without really trying.
"Isn’t that snow pretty?" I said in a successful attempt at agitating the troops.
The friendly waitress said, "Before you ask, we are all out of 'What do you have?'"
Airport activities
He didn’t know where he was going or where he’d been. It didn’t matter. He hurried. A hypnotic haste. He was beside himself — a regular condition in big airports.
All my brain cells were asleep or MIA. It was 6:00, I wasn’t sure whether it was a.m. or p.m.
I found my seat on the plane. There was someone in it. He’d left the middle seat for me. I don’t like middle seats. Nobody does. A middle seat has never done anything to me, but it demands the defense of two borders.
He probably knew he was in the wrong seat. Maybe not. He gave an "Oops! I tried" smile and moved. I wanted to dislike him, but I’ve made similar mistakes. I couldn’t put a flaming bag of cow poop outside his door. I decided to ignore him.
Good neighbors can be hard to find. I recall sitting on a beach when a guy turned the volume of the seashell pressed to his ear up much too high.
I was determined to shun the fellow who’d attempted to swipe my seat until he began reading a Kurt Vonnegut book — "Hocus Pocus."
I like Vonnegut. Suddenly, I liked my neighbor. He was born to read, forced to work.
I’m a child of libraries. I’m like The New Yorker column by Dorothy Parker — The Constant Reader. I read some books electronically. I like paper better. The tactile sensation delights. I enjoy seeing others reading books. A book tells a bit about a person, like a bumper sticker.
I was crammed into an airline seat that didn’t fit me. There was coughing to the left of me and sneezing to the right. But I was OK. I had a book.
Playing catch
I threw a ball against the wall, playing catch with someone not there. I grew up alongside a gravel road. It wasn’t well traveled. When a car drove by that my father didn’t recognize, he’d ask, "Who in the world was that?" Dad said things like, "Never anger a cook," and "Nothing good happens after midnight." His greatest and most often given advice was, "No!"
Drive long and prosper
My GPS led me beside Stillwater. I drove through Minnesota and Iowa. Both states are open 24 hours a day. If I’d driven to the Rio Grande Valley, by the time I’d reached the Texas border, I’d have been halfway there.
I found myself in the part of Dallas where the traffic was energetic and endless. That part is called Dallas.
I saw a driver wearing a cowboy hat big enough to fill most of the car’s front seat. It's not against the law to Tex while driving in the Lone Star State.
A car failed to dim its lights. I wasn’t upset. I accept the faults of others whenever I’m able to see them over my gigantic pile of shortcomings.
Customer comments
John Johnson of Rochester was named after his grandfather. His parents told him that he got it because they already owned the name and it was all they could afford.
Donna Fostveidt of Waseca said her parents received baby chicks by mail. It was about the only time the mailman drove up their long driveway. The chicks were warmed in the cookstove oven. She added that by the time those spring roosters became fat enough to eat, they’d been named and it was a sin to slaughter them. I recall receiving cardboard boxes filled with holes and baby chicks from the rural carrier and at the post office. We’d put the chicks in a brooder house warmed by a heat lamp. Pecking and peeping, the chicks were precious. The brooder house was toasty, often warmer than my insulation-free bedroom.
Meeting adjourned
Things to do today. Be kind. Be kinder.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
I heard you were dead.
Well, I’m not.
Are you sure?
I’m right here in front of you. Who told you that I was dead?
Someone who isn’t nearly the liar that 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: Normal people must be the ones I don't know very well.
The cafe chronicles
There were cups without handles and handles without cups.
The waitress presented our meals with, "Who gets the special with my thumb in it? Nobody swallow! I’ve lost a contact!"
Old Man McGinty, the youngest Old Man McGinty ever, who claims he’d been a human cannonball until he was fired from the job, had been hospitalized recently. He complained that the nurse kept waking him to give him sleeping pills. His doctor said that the mole on Old Man McGinty’s back looked suspicious so he called the police. Old Man McGinty is still working. His father worked until he was 102. He retired so he could enjoy his golden weeks.
The special was priced right, but the jury is still out on the food. It'll probably be found guilty of a misdemeanor.
Another day older and deeper in sweat
The weather turned warm before I was ready for it to stop being cold. I took a jacket because my mother had told me to always take a jacket. I shouldn’t always take a jacket.
My birthday was on St. Urho's Day. St. Urho and me. I don’t know how Urho celebrated, but I was given a free fountain beverage. Nice. I used to get a cake named after me, but now I get cherry pie for my birthday. That’s better.
This birthday means that I’m 10 years into my 5-year plan. I’m thankful for the grace of the years and hope for the wisdom of my new age. I’m trying to figure out how to become a better person. I pray that my days add up to something good.
I took woodworking in shop class in school. Anyone who finished the class with all of his fingers intact was guaranteed a grade of C. I still have all my fingers, all my teeth and my tonsils. That’s not bad.
I’ve had many friends and relatives who didn’t make it to my current age. I miss them. I’m pleased to still be here. Life is holding on and life is letting go.
I don’t ever want to regret not saying a small, good thing. Things like saying "thank you" for the free fountain beverage. Thank you.
The economy doesn’t understand economists either
An economist is someone who shoots an arrow 20 feet to the left of the target. Launches the next arrow 20 feet to the right of the target and then yells, "Bull’s-eye!"
Peter Weinstock, a lawyer from Dallas, said, "Economics was created to give astrology more credence."
Chris Kuehl of Kansas City is an economist and said that meteorologists make economists look good. He added that economics is the science of explaining tomorrow why the predictions you made yesterday didn’t come true today.
Customer comments
• Mark Holt of Converse, Indiana, said this about the NCAA tournament, "It wasn’t if or when Purdue would lose, it was how."
• Daniel Otten of Hayward is a Nebraska fan. His wife Kim is a Minnesota fan. Daniel says that when the Cornhuskers play the Gophers, somebody wins.
• Cass Bettinger moved from Utah to an area of Mexico where it's 75-80 degrees all year. He said, "I’ve reached an age where I don’t do winter well anymore."
• Mike Petersen of Byron said, "If you collect tractors, never line them up in rows. That makes it too easy for your wife to count them."
• While I visited his state, Bob Walters of Austin, Texas, told me, "The difference between a Yankee and a damn Yankee is that a damn Yankee comes to Texas and stays."
I had a brain cramp
In my haste to thank the amazing talent that appeared at the Groove for Food at Trinity Lutheran recently on behalf of the New Richland Area Food Shelf, I left Melissa Williams off the list. That was an unforgivable omission on my part because her stirring voice is unforgettable.
Nature notes
"What is the difference between horns and antlers?" Horns are found on bovids — sheep, goats, cows and bison. Antlers are on cervids--deer, elk, moose and caribou. Horns aren’t deciduous. Antlers are shed each year and a new set grows in time for the mating season. Horns can grow on both male and female members of a species. Antlers grow almost exclusively on males, female caribou being the exception.
Meeting adjourned
"This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness." – Dalai Lama
Echoes from the Loafers Club Meeting
I don't know the meaning of the word "quit."
Got fired again, huh?
Yup.
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: Whenever I say, "I think I've forgotten something," I am right.
The cafe chronicles
There was a plethora of playful ribbing at the table of infinite knowledge. Some might refer to it as bovine excrement. No one was hesitant about expressing an opinion on matters of which they knew nothing. One thing that could not be denied is that we were the loneliest group of lighthouse keepers in Southern Minnesota.
Old Man McGinty, the youngest Old Man McGinty ever, told me that he was working the second shift. By that, he meant that his wife had been married before and considered McGinty a rescue. He added that he was 90. "What I wouldn’t give to be 89 again," he said. He added he’d just had a brain operation and he had half a mind to sue the surgeon.
Weasel said that his father, who is retired and sets his alarm clock by the week, had gotten a speeding ticket while trying to get to his destination before he forgot where he was going.
My contribution was the story of how I had recently attended a friend’s funeral. He had been a ventriloquist — and a very good one. He was so good that his dummy gave the eulogy.
The waitress pointed at the menu on the wall and told us we couldn't have the special until we told her what made her special. She put up with us. That made her special.
I was a pelican in the Pelican State
I landed at the airport in Lafayette, Louisiana. Technically, the airplane landed, but I was shoehorned into one of its seats. I’d spent most of the flight searching for change under my seat cushion that could be used as a flotation device in the unlikely event of a water landing. Douglas Adams wrote, "There is an art, or rather a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss."
I was in Louisiana for a job. A banner at the airport proclaimed Lafayette to be the happiest city in the country. That was based on data from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that were adjusted for certain socioeconomic factors. The top five happiest cities were all from Louisiana. Rochester, Minnesota was sixth. New York City was the unhappiest.
I dragged my battered bag, filled with miles, to the car rental counter. While I waited, a fellow asked me where I was from. I told him. I asked where he called home. He answered that he was from Lafayette. I asked if everyone there was happy.
"Everyone but me," he said.
I asked no more questions.
Measure you later, alligator
I was working in Morgan City, the shrimp and petroleum capital of the world. It’s an area of Southern Louisiana where a TV show called "Swamp People" is filmed for the History Channel.
I traveled a short distance by car to Terrebonne Parish (a parish is similar to a county) where I entered the watery world of the Atchafalaya Basin, floating on a bayou — the sluggish, swampy tributary of a river. I was in a small boat, but not a pirogue, which was originally carved from a hollow log and usually poled. The boat’s owner played a homemade accordion and guitar while singing Creole songs. He’d been in KIA TV commercials. He told me that the number of inches from an alligator's nose to its eyes equaled the number of feet long that the gator was. My policy has always been to not measure alligators. I adhere to that good policy.
In gratitude
Thanks to all involved in the Groove for Food held at Trinity Lutheran in New Richland on behalf of the New Richland Area Food Shelf. The talent was amazing--Josh Gegel, the Rice sisters, Sam Boerboom, Gratia Johnson, Jessica and Terry Nafe, Joel and Ben Groskreutz, and Just Friends. Thanks to those in attendance and all who donated auction items.
Nature notes
"I saw a opossum in my yard. Are they supposed to be here?" The Virginia opossum has been in Southern Minnesota for about 100 years, but its expansion into the state’s metro and central areas is more recent. Why did the chicken cross the road? To show the opossum that it could be done.
Meeting adjourned
"Try to make at least one person happy every day. If you cannot do a kind deed, speak a kind word. If you cannot speak a kind word, think a kind thought. Count up, if you can, the treasure of happiness that you would dispense in a week, in a year, in a lifetime!" - Lawrence G. Lovasik
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
I worry about what my doctor told me.
What did he say?
He told me not to worry.
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 often hear, "That was the final straw." What was the first straw? My father chopped wood. I wasn’t very old, but I helped. Each time he swung the axe, I grunted from the stump I sat upon. That might have been the first straw.
Cafe chronicles
He told me that he reads the obituaries each day just to monitor his peer pressure. He had driven through my hometown. He called it a bite-sized town. I told him that it wasn’t, at least not since the cafe closed. We had met at a cafe between us to eat pie.
It’s Pi Day every year on March 14 — or 3.14. Pi, 3.14, expresses the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter. Because Pi Day falls on 3/14/15, it matches the first four numbers that follow the decimal point — 3.1415. It’s a day worth celebrating by eating pie in its honor.
Memories of Louisiana lurking in the cobwebbed corners of my mind
I was speaking at some things in Louisiana when I felt a need to eat. I pulled into an eatery displaying a familiar sign. I parked my rental Chevy safely between the lines. I pay attention to those lines and I like people who look at the lines when parking cars.
I was in a Waffle House in Morgan City, Louisiana. The Waffle House is an icon of the south with about 1700 restaurants, some as close as Missouri and Illinois. It’s a place built for breakfast. I was enjoying a waffle covered in maple syrup. The Waffle House doesn’t offer french fries (hashbrowns are served many ways), but I thought about a woman seated near me during a meal the day before at Bayou Delight restaurant in Houma, Louisiana. She had a hamburger and a sensible number of french fries. She ate every fry before she took a single bite out of her burger. I couldn't do that. I need to eat a bit of each in an attempt to make them last equally. I know that some people eat their desserts first, reasoning that life is short.
We are creatures of habit. I suspect that most of us put a sock on the same foot first each time we get dressed.
Oh, Waffle House hashbrowns are available smothered in sauteed onions, covered in melted cheese, chunked with grilled hickory smoked ham, diced with grilled tomatoes, peppered with spicy jalapeno peppers, capped with grilled button mushrooms, topped with chili and a country style of being covered in sausage gravy.
I finished my waffle as I listened to a fellow complain stridently about all politicians, past and present.
I was second in line to the cashier. The man ahead of me flashed a wallet and a smile as he said, "I hope they have a Waffle House in heaven."
Customer comments
• Chris Kamrud of Tracy had this to say about lutefisk, "If you put enough butter on a shingle, it’s good eating."
• Larry Crabtree of New Richland said this about Daylight Saving Time, "It’s like cutting a foot off one end of a rug and sewing it on the other end to make it longer."
• Wayne Brock of Tracy had just moved as a young man to the area. He asked a fellow he met on his first day if there were any women worth looking at in town. Little did he know that he was speaking to his future father-in-law.
• Norm Eckart of New Richland told me that he’d found the easiest way to plant walnut trees. Pour a five-gallon bucket of walnuts onto the ground and let the squirrels plant them.
• I had struggled with the pronunciation of some Finnish names. It bothers me when I butcher someone’s family label. My wife consoled me by saying that her aunt Ingeborg Rugroden would have solved the problem by saying, "That name is spelled incorrectly."
Talking with the Holstein
The Holstein is a retired dairy cow, so she has time to talk. I told her that I was trying to become a better listener. Listening is difficult for most humans. Listening gives us something to do while we wait for our turn to talk.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully before saying, "Listening is the rent paid for friendship."
Meeting adjourned
Kindness attracts kindness.
Echoes from the Loafers' Club Meeting
Why do you go ice fishing?
Because it's nice to get away to a place where I can relax without a care. You should try it.
I don't need to. I don't care now.
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: Always leave the price tag on any exercise equipment you buy. It might provide an incentive.
Worrying at a buffet
My wife and I aren’t always full-service diners. We were at a buffet. Buffet is a Norwegian word meaning, "get it yourself." The restaurant’s sneeze guard was in the shop for repairs, so we were each given headgear with a face shield to wear. We couldn’t even sneeze on an elbow. No, they didn’t really give us a mobile sneeze guard, but they should look into it.
My wife looked worried.
That’s because she was worried. I said, "You worry too much. You probably inherited that trait. Your father worried, didn't he?"
My bride replied, "Only when I started dating you."
I can’t believe it was that long ago until I try to remember it
They were the times when the nights were darker than they are today.
Extension cords and multi-outlet plugs took the place of adequate wiring.
The school’s walls were painted either a morning breath blue or a heartburn green. The school’s spitwad-sniffing dog moved by the desks and lockers. At least that was the rumor I started when a neighborhood dog entered the school after being enticed by the heavenly smell of tater tot hotdish. He was a gigantic Saint Bernard with an appetite even larger than he was.
The dental office fiendishly amplified the sounds of the drill through the office’s sound system.
We blogged by looping Main in an old car.
They were dark days. They were good days. They were the days we were given. They were the way they were.
I was reminded of these things recently when my wife made hamburger gravy on mashed potatoes. It was delicious, just as it had been when the lovely lunch ladies prepared the delicacy when I was a frequent patron of the school cafeteria.
Forgive me
I sat near the rear of the plane, where legroom was nothing more than a rumor. The airline didn’t offer a snack cart. They e-mailed each passenger a 25 cents-off coupon good on a bottle of water purchased at a convenience store. I took the time that I’d usually be enjoying a glass of cranberry juice to wish that I was flying on a glass-bottomed airplane. I pretended to listen to the flight attendant give her safety talk and demonstration because no one else was. I wanted to ask her to repeat it in case I missed something, but I thought it wise not to.
The fellow next to me struck up a conversation. He had been visiting and was going home, just like me. In a state where most everyone lives close to water, he didn’t. He said that all his relatives who had lived in the area were now in the local graveyard. We talked about those we loved who had died. It’s not hard to lose loved ones. It’s hard taking a trigonometry test you didn’t study for. Losing a loved one is heartrending awful. We go to wakes and funerals. We hug until we can stop crying. We cry until we can stop hugging.
He had cleaned the house of a recently deceased relative. In doing so, he’d developed a great respect for those who get rid of things.
We do let go of things, but they have claw marks on them when we do. We hoard stuff (that’s the technical term for things we have no use for, but keep anyway), just as we store grudges and refuse to forgive. It can be difficult for some folks to forgive people for not being who they thought they were. Not forgiving is like drinking rat poison while waiting for the rat to die. Get over things as quickly as possible.
And either throw away that collection of promotional screwdrivers or sell them on eBay.
Customer comments
• Ric McArthur of Morpeth, Ontario, sent along this hopeful note, "Smile, the days are getting longer. You'll have more daylight to shovel the snow."
• Ron Guidry of Gibson, Louisiana, told me that he dropped out of school after he’d completed the fourth grade. He didn’t want to get ahead of his father.
Meeting adjourned
Kind words echo forever.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
Do you think man descended from apes?
Not my people.
Where did they come from?
Wales.
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: My wife claimed it was an accident. The flushing of the toilet, that is. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing had I not been taking a shower at the time.
Duct-taping winter
It was cold. Minnesota cold. I was filling my car with gas. It wasn’t only cold, the wind was whipping and biting. A twenty-something woman came out of the convenience store, carrying a newly purchased roll of duct tape. She walked to the car parked on the other side of the gas pumps from me. She became busy attempting to duct tape her outside mirror back onto a red car. The mirror hung down from its wires. I’ll bet there was a story there. If you are in Minnesota, you do Minnesota things.
I considered my once long-cherished belief that red cars got more tickets than other cars. It was claimed by many that the eye-catching color caught the attention of police officers or that red cars appeared to be going faster than they really were. I was saddened to discover that there were no scientific studies to corroborate that belief.
"Do you need any help?" I asked. I have duct taped more than my share of things to other things. I always assume that people need help. We all do.
She determined that my question didn't need an answer, so she didn’t give me one. Perhaps her mind was fully occupied with her duct tape project and she had shut her ears off in order to save heat.
I don’t know if her efforts were successful or not, but I do know that duct tape curtails snoring.
The name game
I spoke at a delightful gathering of Lions in Green Isle. While enjoying a delicious repast there, I visited with a soon-to-be grandmother about the process of naming a baby. Nicknames, initials and possible inheritances must be considered. I recalled the song "The Name Game" by Shirley Ellis that went like this, "The name game! Shirley! Shirley, Shirley bo Birley Bonana fanna fo Firley Fee fy mo Mirley, Shirley! Lincoln! Lincoln, Lincoln bo Bincoln Bonana fanna fo Fincoln Fee fy mo Mincoln, Lincoln! Come on everybody! I say now let's play a game. I betcha I can make a rhyme out of anybody's name. The first letter of the name, I treat it like it wasn't there. But a B or an F or an M will appear. And then I say bo add a B then I say the name and Bonana fanna and a fo. And then I say the name again with an F very plain and a fee fy and a mo. And then I say the name again with an M this time and there isn't any name that I can't rhyme. Arnold! Arnold, Arnold bo Barnold Bonana fanna fo Farnold Fee fy mo Marnold Arnold! But if the first two letters are ever the same, I drop them both and say the name like Bob, Bob drop the B's Bo ob. For Fred, Fred drop the F's Fo red. For Mary, Mary drop the M's Mo ary. That's the only rule that is contrary. Okay? Now say Bo: Bo. Now Tony with a B: Bony. Then Bonana fanna fo: bonana fanna fo. Then you say the name again with an F very plain: Fony. Then a fee fy and a mo: fee fy mo. Then you say the name again with an M this time: Mony. And there isn't any name that you can't rhyme."
It can’t hurt to give a prospective name a run through the name game. Not all names do well.
Customer comments
• Ric McArthur of Morpeth, Ontario, sent this, "I need to move to a place where the temperature doesn't go below my age."
• Jim Clark of Stevens Point wrote, "My wife Noni and I will be 80 this summer. I have never been this old before. For Valentine’s, I gifted her with a pedicure, as we are spending the month of March in Florida and I wanted her dogs to shine."
Nature notes
The Virginia opossum has been in Southern Minnesota for about 100 years, but its expansion into the metro and central areas of the state is more recent.
Meeting adjourned
"Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible." - Dalai Lama
Echoes from the Loafers' Club
Where is the Hanson place?
It’s across the road from the Nelson place.
Where is the Nelson place?
It's across the road from the Hanson place.
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: The thermometer on the dashboard of my car just matched the temperature on a school’s digital time and temperature sign. That rarely happens. I took it as a sign of good things. I probably should have bought a lottery ticket. I’ve never purchased one. I’m told that I can never win unless I buy a ticket. That seems unfair.
Cafe chronicles
I sat down at a table that was so clean, you could eat off it. Men drank coffee passively from cups bearing their names as rented teeth worked their magic on sweet rolls. The coffee-drinking app on one man’s cellphone was declared completely worthless.
Another man spoke of his annual attendance at the local church. He claimed it made him a dependable churchgoer. He goes every Christmas without fail. He is a diet Lutheran.
I enjoyed pie smothered in whipped cream. I did so, even though I could still see a bit of the pie peeking out from under the whipped cream.
Two fellows talked about the good old days of 30-cent gas and only three TV channels. They talked about their youthful exploits and the simple pleasures of earlier times. After a lengthy discussion, one of them summed it all up by saying, "That must have been two other guys. We’re not that old."
A blissful birthday bash
I enjoyed kraut dumpling soup at the Cottage Cafe in Amboy with my bride and friends. It was our way of celebrating my wife’s birthday and the natal day of a friend named Tim Scott. The food at the Cottage Cafe is always scrumptious, most always even better than that. I ate delicious soup in honor of the birthday celebrants. What a guy I am. I felt at home seated at that table. It felt like the time when I’d been moved up from the kids’ table to the adults’ table at Christmas. I didn’t know if I deserved it, but I was happy to be there. I had chased a dream. I try not to take things for granted. I realize how blessed I am to know who I know. I have so many heroes in my life; people who I look up to. I smiled as I sat with my heroes who liked me despite the fact that I had always made my snowmen with eyebrows.
Customer comments
• Viola Nolte of Fairmont said that her daughter mailed her a challenging jigsaw puzzle. Viola and her friends struggled to put the puzzle together. In the midst of that battle, one lady said, "The next time your daughter sends you a jigsaw puzzle, have her put it together first."
• Arlo Tweeten of Hartland told me that his uncle Irving Tweeten umpired some baseball games in Wisconsin. One game featured a pitcher who threw faster than anyone Irving had ever seen. Irving called the fireballer’s initial pitch of the first inning a ball because it sounded low.
• Darwyn Olson of Hartland said that his mother Ethel had a great desire to be helpful on the farm. No job was beneath her. She did whatever tasks that needed doing. She was always asking her husband and son, "What do you want me to do?" When she found herself living in a nursing home, she continued to ask her family, "What do you want me to do?"
• All the great men around me are dying and I don’t feel so well myself. A friend, Leslie Olson of Hartland, passed away recently. I’ll miss him. He and his wife Dolores had been married 64 years. Dolores told me that her daughter, Amy Brown of Owatonna, had been diligent in her photo taking whenever the family had gathered in the last few years. Dolores described the efforts of the hard-working camera with the words, "Funeral pictures."
Customer comments on euphemisms for death
• Rick Mammel of Albert Lea wrote, "I’ve had one for many years, that someone is staring at the bottom side of sod."
Nature notes
Red-tailed hawks don’t have red tails until they are over two years old. Immature birds typically molt into adult plumage — including a red tail — at the beginning of their second year.
Meeting adjourned
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe said, "Kindness is the golden chain by which society is bound together."
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
Duane has the itis.
I don’t think there is such a thing as the itis.
I know that. There’s more to it, but I can’t remember what it is.
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: Aging is the only way to get older.
The news from Hartland
Local psychiatrist is Jung at heart.
Novel Idea Bookstore says that its number one best seller is a book about the history of urinals.
It wasn’t the Spanish Inquisition
As a writer, I ask many questions.
I was far from home when, in an effort to make small talk, I asked a fellow if he knew where Hartland was.
He replied, "Why, is it missing?"
People ask questions in return. That’s nice.
"How did you ever get out of the second grade?" One of the kids I started school with became my teacher and she let me go.
I watched two of my granddaughters shoot baskets. You don’t have to make them to shoot them. The Pulitzer Prize winner is in the first grade and the surgeon is in the second. They are filled with vim and vigor. I'm surprised kids aren't too tired to grow up.
The varsity basketball game began with players fist bumping the referees and the opposing coach, and ended with the two teams lining up, touching hands and telling one another, "Good game." The commingled voices sounded like an ancient chant.
It might be a suitable way to end a workday.
"Good work, good work, good work..."
Tom Benson of Hartland asked me, "What is it exactly that you do?" He was being funny, but I do get that question often. I’m a writer. That means that it looks like I’m doing nothing most of the time.
I was driving. I do that routinely. I bought a different car recently. The miles were overpowering my old one. Someone asked if my new vehicle had heated seats. It does, but I have to heat them with my rear end.
As I motored down the road, it was 15 degrees and freezing rain was falling. Windshield wipers struggled to clear the glass. It doesn’t seem fair to receive rain at that temperature, but life is unfair.
The atmosphere is layered. Most precipitation starts in the cloud as snow. If it falls through a layer of air that has a temperature -greater than 32 degrees Fahrenheit, it melts into rain. If the temperature at ground level is below freezing, the water may refreeze in the air and become sleet. If the layer of sub-freezing air at ground level is thin, the precipitation falls as rain and freezes upon touching a freezing object. For it to snow, all layers of air that the snow falls through must be sub-freezing.
I understand, but it still seems unjust.
Someone else asked if San Andreas Fault is in Minnesota. My wife assures me that everything here is Al’s fault.
Here and there
Scott Batt of Newton, Iowa, sent a text that he meant to finish with, "Call in a while." Thanks to autocorrect, it arrived as, "Call of the wild."
I was at a fundraising auction in Green Isle. The lady seated next to me snagged some dandy homemade dishtowels. She was happy to get them. Her husband asked what they were for. I’ll bet he found out.
Customer comments on euphemisms for death
Marcel Stratton of Rollag wrote, "There is an old one of French origin: 'Chewing dandelions by the roots.' My French grandmother used this expression.
Lona Falenczykowski of Mankato offered this, "Gnawing at the roots of daisies."
Ethel Olson of Hartland died at age 92. Her son Darwyn said that his mother was still mowing the lawn when she was 90. Perhaps a new euphemism could be, "She’s stopped mowing the lawn."
Nature notes
"Do goldfinches migrate?" The American goldfinch is a short distance migrant. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology found that goldfinches move south in the winter to areas where the minimum January temperature is no colder than 0 degrees Fahrenheit on average. Goldfinches tend to be nomadic. Those who feed birds notice their sporadic visits.
Talking with the Holstein
The Holstein is a retired dairy cow, so she has time to talk. I mentioned something that made me feel like a kid again.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully before saying, "If I want to feel like a calf again, I get some bubble wrap."
Meeting adjourned
There is no opportunity bigger than the opportunity to be kind.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
My car makes funny noises.
That’s no surprise.
Why do you say that?
There is a clown driving it.
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 I live, everybody knows a guy who knows a guy with a truck.
The cafe chronicles
It was hard to hear over his loud shirt. He claimed being so short that he had to look up to see down. The local population grew as the number of people younger than him increased yearly. He’d seen a lot in his day, most of it on TV.
The waitress said, "Please listen carefully as our menu has changed. The special is alphabet soup with a spell checker. What would you like?"
The man replied, "The special at half the price and a dinner roll to put under the leg to balance the table."
She brought him a pine float — a glass of water with a toothpick in it.
Car cares
It’s nice having a gallon of gas cost less than a cup of coffee. I drive. I don't drink coffee.
A family matriarch was pulled over three times during her motoring career--twice for driving too slow and once for attempting to drive too slow.
I don’t have bumper stickers. I’m thinking of getting one reading, "Save the turn signal."
Each winter, I wish my car were the color of road salt. A friend groused that a feral shopping cart had dinged his new car. It could be worse.
Oscar will rebound
I sat in the bleachers, having watched a B-squad basketball game and waiting for the varsity game to begin. I was eating a bag of salt that needed more popcorn. A woman carrying a baby carrying a huge grin stopped to talk to my wife. She said that she had two children, the baby and a teenager. She thought the spread in years was good. By the time the youngest started hating her parents, the older child would start loving them again.
Donna Swenson of Waseca said that her young grandson Henrik told his mother Jodi, "Mom, don’t go upstairs, even if you hear Oscar yelling, "Help me."
Henrik had locked his brother in a closet.
Dying words
An issue for a tissue offers many euphemisms for death such as: Passed away, kicked the bucket, gave up the ghost, bought the farm, got out of the canoe, checked out, bit the dust, crossed over, tipped over, entered the sweet hereafter, resting in peace, slipped away, called home, gone to his reward, laid down his burden, no longer with us, in search of other opportunities, shuffled off this mortal coil, took a harp, answered God's call, gone to eternal rest, met his maker, keeled over, transitioned, left the building, caught the last train, pushing up daisies, at the pearly gates, singing with the heavenly choir, the credits are rolling, took the big bus, having a dirt nap, at peace or with the angels.
When passing a casket, we say, "He looks good."
I asked my neighbor Crandall what he’d like to hear when laid in his casket.
He answered, "He’s moving!"
Telling stories
I’d just recorded 12 hours of TV shows without using a script. The director asked how I could do that. It’s not that hard. Any old farmer could talk that long about picking rocks. Ask him questions and press "record" on an electronic device. If you’re interested and listen, he’ll tell stories and you’ll have a precious record of family history.
Customer comments
Keith Batt of Bellingham, Washington, told me that he’d eat vegetarian lasagna only if it had been rubbed against a cow.
Judy Schmidt of Big Lake said that if it isn’t chocolate, it isn’t candy.
Marvin Christiansen of Hartland enjoys woodworking. In the process, he nicked a thumb. His doctor said that a woodworker like Marvin could expect to sacrifice a bit of a digit every five years. Marvin kept at it, not selling his woodworking equipment until the five years had nearly ended.
Russ Anderson of Albert Lea wore an antique "Taft for President" button pinned to his coat. Russ collects campaign buttons. Someone offered him $100 for it. Russ declined. His reasoning? He had $100, but he wasn’t sure he could find another button like it.
Nature notes
It’s a persistent myth that duck’s quack doesn’t echo. It does, but it’s typically too quiet to hear.
Meeting adjourned
"You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late."--Ralph Waldo Emerson
Echoes from the Hartland Loafers’ Club Meeting
I’ve always wanted to be a jockey.
You're too big to be a jockey.
I realize that I’d have to lose a few pounds to become a jockey.
You’d have to lose a few pounds to become a horse.
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: If I wait until the last minute, it will only take a minute to do.
Speaking over there
I spoke at a retirement village where the joy of not missing out had been replaced by the joy of missing out. Before I took the stage, I visited with a group of guys who had grown up in homes where the hottest spice available was ketchup. A bald fellow there threatened to switch barbers. He claimed his was not only cutting too much off, he was pulling it up by the roots. Another said that his sleep apnea turned out to be nothing more than his wife’s elbow in his ribs while he was snoring. A chap claimed that he hadn’t lost a step. It just took him longer to find it.
Most agreed that once they had tried retirement, they found they were perfect for the job.
The years fly by, but the moments last forever
I grew up in an Allis-Chalmers family. I was forbidden to date a girl from a family who owned even a single John Deere.
There wasn’t a farm implement that I couldn’t break. Fortunately, there wasn’t a farm implement my brother Donald couldn’t fix.
I was working on the WD45 tractor. I needed to replace a part. It was a simple task, but I struggled to get the new part into place. I thought I knew what I was doing. I was seldom right, yet I was never in doubt. I compounded the problem by being too stubborn to ask for help. I toiled as if I were attempting to empty the ocean with a spoon. I worked so hard that beads of sweat took turns running down my nose and jumping to the ground. I finally got the part in. I could get any part to fit if I used a hammer that was big enough. The part didn’t do its job. I realized that I’d put the part in backwards.
Donald took a look at my predicament and said, "I don’t believe I’d have done it that way."
I strive to be that kind.
Customer comments
Bob Hess of Luther, Michigan wrote, "One of the first times I had a senior moment, I got in the truck and remembered I had forgotten something. Ran back to the house, got in there and couldn't recall what I went back for. Sheepishly went back and asked my wife, 'Do you remember what I remembered that I forgot?'"
Mary Guggisberg of Freeborn said that her husband Bill underwent a number of medical tests. She added that the good news is that the doctors found that Bill does have a heart.
Ron Brey of New Richland said that the days may go by slowly, but the years go by quickly.
Eleanor Kottke of Mankato told me that a February meeting would be held sometime in February. I think it’s good to allow some wiggle room.
Donna Rae Scheffert of Northfield didn’t join her husband when he bungee jumped. She stood nearby, holding his life insurance policies.
Neal Batt of Hartland knows of a family that has only one rule at the dinner table. Every eater must keep one foot on the floor at all times.
I asked Tom Benson of Hartland how his long-suffering wife Pat puts up with him. Tom replied, "I give her a medal every now and then."
Judy Hendrickson of Hartland retired after many years of fine and faithful service to the patrons of her cafe. It’d be impossible to determine the number of meals she’d prepared. Retirement hasn’t been easy for Judy. She has found it hard to cook for just two people.
Talking with the Holstein
The Holstein is a retired dairy cow, so she has time to talk. I whined to the Holstein about all the work I had to do.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully before saying, "It would be easier to do if you replaced 'I have to' with 'I get to.'"
Nature notes
What is the difference between a beak and a bill? Nothing. The words are synonymous.
Meeting adjourned
"Kindness in words creates confidence. Kindness in thinking creates profoundness. Kindness in giving creates love."-Lao Tzu
More...
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
I won’t be able to work tomorrow.
Why not?
My Grandma Hanson died.
I’m surprised. That’s the fourth time she’s died.
You’re surprised? Just think how my Grandma feels.
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: Being happy for others makes me happy.
The cafe chronicles
I stopped at the cafe because it was conveniently located near a restroom. Using a restroom creates an obligation. It was guilt more than hunger that made me order something to eat. I sat down with a group of men. I didn’t know any of them. I asked if any of them owned a chia pet. Moronic questions make wonderful ice breakers. Someone was introduced as being slightly cracked, but still a good egg. Another as having a reach impediment when it came time to pick up a check. Someone said, "Jeepers!" I felt right at home.
And you are?
My sister-in-law, Donna Swenson of Waseca, retired from her full-time job and took a part-time job at the local Care Center. She is an occupational therapist blessed with skill and dedication. My bride stopped to see her sister. She asked one of the other workers where she might find Donna Swenson. The friendly person told my wife that there was no one by that name in that section and that she should check out the residents living in a different hallway.
It reminded me of a hick from Hartland visiting a nursing home resident who had been his mother’s friend. He greeted her and asked, "Do you know who I am?"
The woman pointed at a nursing assistant and replied, "No, but if you ask that woman there, I’m sure she’ll be able to tell you."
Watching Carlie Wagner
It was as cold as normal. It was so cold that the fine print in my cellphone contract had gotten even smaller. Winters here are gelid enough that people watch TV shows that are nothing more than a fireplace. Stouthearted individuals have been known to open front doors to leave and say, "Forget it," before retreating to the comforting hold of familiar blankets.
Maybe that’s why we hadn’t gone earlier. Maybe it was because family and work had filled our calendars. We’d been meaning to go, but we’re part of the largest nation on Earth — procrastination.
My family, friends and I rode a snazzy bus to Williams Arena to watch local hoopster Carlie Wagner and the Minnesota Gophers play. Finally, we were going to see some college basketball! We had a swell time and it was a great way to travel.
A car covered with bumper stickers passed us. There were fender stickers, trunk stickers, hood stickers, etc. The driver believed in things. Mostly, he believed that he should put on another bumper sticker.
The Maryland coach spent the game bending the ear of the nearest referee. I guess that is what you have to do at that level. There was more cajoling than coaching on her part. Her staff handled most of the coaching. Hers is a tough gig. Most everybody on her staff wants her job.
My thanks to Carlie for the incentive and to Rick Schultz of New Richland for arranging the trip.
He told me, "Carry on." I will.
My brother Donald’s wife, Glenda, had a father who was in the Navy, a brother in the Marines, another brother who was in the Air Force and a husband proud of his Army service.
Donald was a volunteer firefighter, someone truly good for nothing. He was a magician when it came to maladies of motors and machinery. His humble mastery of such things mystified and delighted me. I felt rich to have such a sibling. It was nearly impossible for me to break things that he couldn’t fix. Until now. He broke my heart and I’m not sure it’s fixable. He didn’t do it with malicious intent. He did it by dying.
Donald died a couple days short of his January 15 birthday. Glenda was with him when he shuffled off this mortal coil. My wife and I had just left his room and had almost made it into our house when my cell phone rang, giving me the bad news.
The good news is that Donald was my brother. It doesn’t get better than that.
Meeting adjourned
"Unexpected kindness is the most powerful, least costly, and most underrated agent of human change. Kindness that catches us by surprise brings out the best in our natures." — Bob Kerrey
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
Is it cold enough for you?
I can't feel my toes.
That’s no big deal. They feel just like your fingers only shorter.
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 never forget that there is something I should remember.
Ask Al
"If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" Yes, "Uffda!"
"If you could describe yourself in one word, what would it be?" Bad at math.
"What would you do if you knew you were going to live forever?" I’d make sure that everything I bought came with a lifetime guarantee.
The cafe chronicles
Someone sneezed with gusto. I ducked. You never know where a used cough drop might fly when powered by a sternutation.
The chowhound covered his hash browns with salt, trying to cover up that nasty potato taste, as he sang, "Cigarettes. I’ve had a few, but, then again, too few to mention."
He was older than he once was and younger than he will be. He told all who were willing to listen that he thought he’d lost his belt buckle this morning, but he’d put his pants on backwards. He’d grown a beard. At his age, if his hair wanted to grow anywhere, he wasn't going to stop it. Newton discovered gravity in the 1600s, but the man said that he was in his 60s before he really began noticing it.
I interjected that I’d been looking for a book I had about Isaac Newton, when the book fell from the shelf and hit me on the head.
We talked of old cars we’d owned that had run on alternative energy. We had to push them. Then the chowhound had to go home. He needed to finish writing the postcards he was sending that said, "Wish you were here instead of me," to snowbirds wintering in Arizona, Texas, Florida and California.
Knitting at a basketball game
The novelist Jules Verne wrote, "You will travel in a land of marvels."
Each day that allows a single smile is marvelous.
I sat at a basketball game recently. I sat between two knitters. One was my wife. The other knitter was a young lady in the 7th grade. My wife had strayed from her typical cherubic demeanor after knitting herself into a corner, so I visited with the 7th grader. I was amazed at how much sharper she was than I remember me being at that age or at my current age. I was a decent 7th grader, but I was never quite good enough to make a career of it. I blamed it on my sharpened with love, Ticonderoga Number 2 pencils. They had too many wrong answers in them. I got a C-flat in music class. I was an essay guy in a multiple-choice world. The highlight of my year was that I never threw up in health class. Even though my report cards were typically smudged with my mother’s tears, I learned things. Things like, it's "i" before "e" except after "c" or when sounding like "a" in "neighbor" and "weigh." And in classmate Roger Heine’s last name. One day, I learned so much in school that I forgot my name.
Customer comments
Ric McArthur of Morpeth, Ontario, sent this, "Patience is something you admire greatly in the driver behind you but not in the driver in front of you."
Harvey Benson of Harmony wrote, "I lived in Finland for some time. Sometimes the president would go to see someone at a care center when they turned 100 in order to wish them a happy birthday. One time when he was visiting a lady he asked her if she was married. With a wink and a smile she answered, 'Not yet.'"
Talking with the Holstein
The Holstein is a retired dairy cow, so she has time to talk. The Holstein is a model of politeness. I asked for her secret.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully before saying, "Being polite means asking questions that you don’t want to know the answers to."
Nature notes
"Do blue jays migrate?" Blue jay migration is a mystery. Some individual birds may migrate south one year and remain here the next. It’s unclear what factors determine whether a blue jay winters in the north or south. I’d think food supplies would be a factor.
Meeting adjourned
Don't let shyness get in the way of kindness. Be outspoken when it comes to kind words.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
My wife spent all day pointing out spots on the walls and ceilings.
Sounds like you need to paint.
No, she needs to clean her eyeglasses.
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: If someone is in front of me, they are driving too slow. If someone is behind me, they are going too fast.
The cafe chronicles
We sat in relaxed-fit chairs. We talked of nothing. We talked of everything. We visited as if we had all the time in the world. We’d each been in more stews than a restaurant oyster. The carnivore’s special came with a complimentary Heimlich maneuver.
The weatherman had done his snow and tell. It was well below zero and the wind howled. My car’s dashboard had warned me that the road might be icy. My car is a worrier.
It was one man’s birthday. I asked him how old he was. He’d thought he was turning 92, but after doing the math, he figured out that he was only 91. He said that turning a year younger was a good birthday gift.
A church closes
On New Year’s Day, I like to get a good deal on a Christmas tree and take time to reflect. I review my Christmas bucket list and try to figure out what went wrong. I ask for forgiveness for any harm I may have caused during the past year.
I don’t resolve to eliminate anything from my life. I resolve to add things that would make me a better version of myself--like the honor I had in speaking at the final service of Freeborn Congregational United Church of Christ, which closed after 141 years of faithful service. For some parishioners, this church was the most enduring relationship of their lives. Rev. Cherie Daniel of Freeborn told me that a late church member, Agnes Hedensten of Freeborn knew where all her family members were at all times. Agnes knew where she’d been, where she was going and what time she needed to be there. Cherie asked her if she knew what heaven would be like. Agnes replied, "It will be a surprise."
Her words reminded me of Henry Ward Beecher’s last words, "Now comes the mystery."
Cherie had taught me that I should never try counting a snapping turtle’s teeth with my fingers. Cherie demonstrated so that I wouldn’t have to learn by experience and got a visit to the emergency room for her efforts. Cherie mentioned a young member of her family on her first trip to Cedar Rapids, who said, "I don't see any rabbits."
There is a shortage of cedar rabbits there. That’s a mystery. So is a church closing.
A confabulation
I stopped to see an old friend. She lives in an Alzheimer’s facility. Although dementia has changed her in many ways, her demeanor remains kind and caring. I enjoyed visiting with her. She asked me if I would stop and talk to her husband. She added that he’d been asking about me. I said that I would. And I did. It was a frigid and blustery day, but I knew right where he was buried.
Customer comments
Neal Batt of Hartland is a fan of Allis-Chalmers tractors. How big a fan? His wife, Darla, told me that he’d even painted their garden hose cart orange.
Virginia Anderson of Rochester told a story about Ingeborg Rugroden of New Richland. Ingeborg was a tireless worker at Trinity Lutheran Church in New Richland. She spent countless hours doing the dishes in the church kitchen. She told all who would listen that when she died, she didn’t want paper plates or plastic silverware at her funeral. She had spent so much time washing and drying the church’s dishes and silverware, that she wanted one time when she wouldn’t have to wash them. She got her wish.
Lynn Osswald of Northbridge, Massachusetts, said that her husband John was given two neckties by his mother. He wore one the next time she visited. His mother saw the tie and asked, "Didn’t you like the other one?"
Ken Bertelson of Albert Lea said that Lena got nine out of 10 on her drivers test. The 10th one jumped out of the way.
Nature notes
Birds find feeders by sight. They either see the feeder, the food or other birds feeding.
Meeting adjourned
According to researchers at the University of California-Berkeley, a grateful attitude boosts immunity, lowers blood pressure, decreases loneliness, fosters generosity, stimulates compassion and improves emotional well-being.
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
My job is just like Christmas.
How is that?
I do all the work and some fat guy in a suit gets all the credit.
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 leave the judging to Santa Claus.
Cafe chronicles
They gathered at the Curmudge Inn. They were long john-wearing men, all suffering from ancient snow-shoveling injuries. Some had been around longer than their teeth. They’d figured that by the time they’d reached this stage of their lives that they’d have slim bodies and fat bank accounts. The opposite happened. Most of them hadn’t done any Christmas shopping yet. To them, shopping is like chewing tinfoil. Most of them were better at whining about shopping than they were at shopping. They have seen all the shopping that others have done and they are exhausted by it.
Family history
This is the time of the year when I didn't close the door of the house properly. I was guilty of that all year, but it was more wicked in frigid temperatures. My mother said, "Close the door. It's cold outside." I'd reply, "If I close the door, will it be warmer outside?"
I told my wife that JWP plays Granada-Huntley-East Chain/Martin Luther/Truman in high school basketball. My wife replied, "Well, they should be able to beat one of them."
My mother-in-law, Lorraine Nelson of New Richland, played an angel in a Christmas play. A perfect example of typecasting. I wanted to hold a sign reading, "My mother-in-law is an angel," but my wife put the kibosh on that.
When the
dent fairy comes
Cheryl McRoberts of Haines, Alaska, was in the local bank when someone told her that a man had backed his truck into her brand new Subaru--twice. Cheryl ran out of the bank and waved down the other driver. She told him that he'd hit her car.
"So that’s what that was," he said.
She had her bumper replaced. She encounters the other driver regularly. Whenever she does, he asks where her Subaru is parked.
Customer comments
Ric McArthur of Morpeth, Ontario, sent, "Do you know the correct term for gluten-free, sugarless, vegan brownies? Compost." Ric also sent a photo of a livestock trailer carrying this sign, "Caution: Floor covered with political promises."
Jerry Morstad of Albert Lea told me that as his father, Orvin, left the nursing home after a short stay and walked to the car, Jerry asked him if he knew what he’d just done. Orvin had no answer. Jerry said, "You’re 91-years-old and you’ve just walked out of a nursing home."
Mac Ehrhardt of Albert Lea wondered aloud, "Which is worse-hiring a good employee and having him leave or hiring a bad employee and having him never leave?"
Mark Light of Albert Lea said that he and his brother, Randy Light of New Richland, were talking about someone who had a sunny disposition. Randy described the person as being "golden retriever happy." That’s someone who is always happy, but isn’t always sure why.
Denny Galagan of Albert Lea drives a 1993 Dodge Dakota. That’s because when he was a boy, he was advised, "If you can’t get 20 years out of a horse, there is no use owning one."
A customer told me that she used to do a lot of air travel. When she heard someone say, "Uffda," she knew that she was home.
While my wife and I were ringing the bells for the Salvation Army, LeRoyce Ingham of Hayward had this to say as he slipped a bill into the kettle, "If you had a bigger hole in the kettle, you’d get bigger bills."
Talking with the Holstein
The Holstein is a retired dairy cow, so she has time to talk. I asked her what Christmas was like for a cow.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully before saying, "Being a cow is a great way to get out of Christmas shopping."
Nature notes
Here are some old Christmas Eve traditions in other countries. In Sweden, the last sheaf of harvested grain, the julkarve or the Christmas sheaf is hung out for the birds. Germans place corn on the roof to feed the birds. In Denmark, a juleneg or cornstalk is hung in a tree for the birds.
Meeting adjourned
"My idea of Christmas, whether old-fashioned or modern, is very simple: loving others. Come to think of it, why do we have to wait for Christmas to do that?"--Bob Hope
Merry Christmas.