Friday, August 2, 2019

Nesting at Loon's Landing


Y'all...we had the BEST VACATION E.V.E.R last week!!

Anybody want to guess what we had to do before we could leave?  Anybody?  Yes, you, the young man in the back row, what is your guess?  CORRECT:  chasing steers, so that sucked, but it didn't delay us too badly.  Plus Captain drove like a maniac so we made good time.

Some friends of ours own a resort on Jessie Lake north of Deer River, Minnesota, called Loon's Landing.  For four days and three nights, we stayed in one of their three cabins.  Our cabin had three bedrooms and a pull out sofa so there was room for all seven of us.  In addition there was a full kitchen (spotless, I might add), satellite TV, and a spacious bathroom with tub and shower.  This is the view we had from our deck.  Are you jealous?

Molly, Bigger, Mama Bear, and Cubby all rode up together while me, Captain, and Gammy rode up by ourselves.  There is no way we could have all ridden together because our vehicle was crammed to the gills with stuff and no one inch of extra space was available!  I do remember much of the drive up because I had my headphones plugged into my tablet so I could get last week's crochet homework for the crochet-a-long I'm doing.  It worked out okay because Captain and Gammy kept each other company in the front seat while I was otherwise occupied.

The kids arrived before we did so got to call dibs on the bedrooms before changing into water gear and heading to the beach below the cabin.  When we got there, they were just coming out of the water.  Cubby was in her heyday and full of information.



Captain grilled brats for supper, and then we retired to the porch for libations and conversation.  After dark, our friend, Addy, popped over to welcome us and visit.  I had tapped into the bottle of Basil Hayden bourbon that James and Herman had gifted us on their recent visit, and I am told I had a good time but that I get louder by the sip when I drink.  Memo to me:  drinking half of the bottle at one time is too much!!

Lucky for me, I rarely get a hangover so on Tuesday morning Captain and I were up by 6:30.  We got our coffee mugs filled up and then strolled down to the beach and out on the dock to watch the sun come up from the end of the dock.  I really can't think of a much better way to start the day.



We got back to the cabin as everyone was starting to stir.  Gammy had put an egg bake together the night before so she got that going in the oven.  I was regaled with tales of my drunkenness from the night before.  Man, I hate it when people tell me stuff I did that I don't remember!!  Glad none of it was terribly embarrassing.



After breakfast was cleaned up (the person who cooks does not have to do dishes), we headed for the beach.  Captain and Bigger went out in the fishing boat we rented for the day while the rest of us hung around the beach.  When Bigger and Captain came back in mid morning, they asked if I wanted to go out for a bit.  Why not, said I.  Alas, we had no luck, but not for lack of trying.

We headed back in to have lunch which was just cold sandwiches and chips.  As Cubby was standing out on the deck eating her sandwich, she started hopping around like a crazy person.  Turns out she had a leech attached to the top of her foot and she wanted it off NOW!  In order to tone down the hysteria, Bigger and Mama Bear told her the leech had just kissed her.

I'm not sure what Bigger told Mama Bear about the leech he found in her belly button...but that's neither here nor there!

A bit later, Bigger, Mama Bear, and Molly headed out to do some bait drowning while Captain, Gammy, me and Cubby were on the beach.  I eventually had to take a nap and went back to the cabin.

After a good snooze, I meandered back down to the beach just in time to find Captain standing in the sand dripping wet.  Cubby ran over and told me, "Grampa tipped the boat upside down."

WHAT?!

Not a boat, but a kayak.  Please keep in mind that he has never--not once--been in a kayak in his life.  But he decided to paddle this kayak out about 200 yards from shore where there was a pontoon platform with a slide on it.  He managed to climb out of the kayak onto the platform, where he dangled his feet in the kayak to keep it moored while he dropped a line.

It must have been a hot spot for the fish because he pulled in 3 or 4 nice perch for supper.

However.

When he went to step back into the kayak, he was off center or something and the kayak capsized, and he floundered into the water.  Thank GOD he was wearing his life jacket!  However, he did lose his fish pole and his fish except the one he'd been holding in his hand.

I ask you:  if you are in danger of possible drowning...do you hang onto the fish or let it go to swim for your life?!  Whatever.  He got back onto the platform and waited for someone to notice him and rescue him.

That's where I came on scene--right after he'd been rescued and brought back to dock.  He went up to change into dry clothes and check for leeches.  By the time he came back down in his swim trunks, I was in the water with Cubby and Gammy.  Captain had a good time chasing Cubby and making her squeal and laugh.  Pretty precious memories right there.

After Cubby got tired of the water and wanted to swing, we left her and Gammy to that and Captain and I used the paddle boat to go out to the pontoon platform.  We were much more careful about getting on and off the thing, and we did both catch a perch before we headed back to shore where we dropped off the fishing gear and picked up Cubby for a paddle boat ride.

I just want to interject here:  MY FIRST FISH EVER!!

It wasn't long before the kids came in from fishing with tales of the ones that got away and a secret cove they'd found where fishing was easy.  No amount of whining, cajoling, wheedling, or begging from Captain would get the secret out of them.  Not for lack of trying!


We all headed for the cabin to take showers and lounge before supper.  Bigger challenged Captain to a rousing game of Battleship, Gammy relaxed in the recliner, and I was crocheting on the couch.  Cubby came over and asked if she could do a stitch.  You betcha, climb on up here!



Mama Bear made spaghetti and garlic bread and we had bag o'salad as well.  Once the supper dishes were cleared, Bigger decided we needed to play a game of horseshoes, so it was kids against parents.

I"m pretty sure we weren't following league rules, or any rules really, but in the end the parents prevailed because that's how it is supposed to work!  The skeeters were coming out in full force by that time so we headed into the safety of the cabin.

Bigger asked for a game of 500, so Gammy and I were partners against him and Captain.  This is another game where we are pretty loosey-goosey with the rules, but it must have been my night to rock because the girls demolished the guys in cards!

By 10:30 or so, we were all in bed for the night.  Boy, resting and relaxing will take it out of you!

Wednesday morning no one was moving very early except Captain and Bigger who went out fishing before anyone else was stirring.  That was okay because it was my turn for breakfast, and it took me awhile to get the camper eggs all put together and cooked.



Once breakfast dishes were cleaned up, the kids headed out to try their luck.  Captain went solo with the paddle boat out to the pontoon platform and by golly, he caught himself a mess of bass with a couple of perch and a sunny!  You go, Captain!

He hauled those in and went to the fish cleaning shack to clean them.  Cubby went along until she decided it was much too stinky in there.  She kept waiting for the kids from the cabin next door to come out so they could all play in the water again.

When the kids did come down, Addy was with them.  She gathered all the kids at the picnic table for an activity.  This is the joy of a small resort...personal attention!!  

She had the kids make homemade ice cream by putting the ingredients into a quart Ziploc bag and sealing that shut.  Then in a gallon Ziploc bag, she put in ice and rock salt.  Finally, the quart bag went into the gallon bag, sealed the gallon bag, and then the kids (or Gramma/mom) had to shake rattle and roll for five minutes to churn the ice cream.   When the consistency was right, she passed out spoons and straws to enjoy their product.  It was fun watching the kids sharing and learning together.

When the kids came back in for lunch it was with stories of catching weeds (Molly) and fending off biting insects unsuccessfully.  Mama Bear got a bite on her foot that caused some concerning swelling, although she declined a trip to the emergency room.



They all decided to lay low on the beach for awhile so Captain and I went out alone.  As he is trolling away from the beach, he comments, "I'm not really sure I know how to drive this."

WHAT?!  And then I see the impish grin; what a goober.

We motored quite a distance from the resort before Captain told me to drop anchor.

Ten minutes later I'm hauling the anchor up because he wasn't satisfied with our spot.

Repeat times three.

During one of those times, as I was tying the anchor off, I hear behind me, "You've got a bite!"  Well, dude, I'm a little busy here!  So he grabbed the pole and reeled in the fish.  A nice little walleye that should have been tossed back but had swallowed the hook up to its tail fin and was bleeding too badly to throw back.  Technically my second fish ever caught, although I never laid a hand on it.

Now I was pumped.  Captain re-baited my hook for me and I was into it, my friends.  Suddenly, as I was jostling the pole trying to entice a fish to gobble the bait, my hook jerked.

OMG!  Now what?!  I set the hook and started reeling.  And reeling.  And I watched my pole bend into a U-shape.  Lord almighty, I have caught the monster of Jessie Lake.  I am envisioning a whopper of a muskie or some other impressive scaled beast.

Then I couldn't turn the reel anymore.  Captain came over, and he couldn't turn the reel either.  Suddenly, he handed me the pole and started hauling in the anchor line.

Now in my head is the scene from Jaws where the shark takes the bait and then takes off with the boat.  Oh good heavens!

Nope.

Captain kept hauling in the anchor and, sure enough, about halfway down there was my hook embedded in the yellow nylon rope.  I'd caught myself an anchor.  Go me!  Yeesh.

That was enough excitement for me and we headed back to the beach.  As we motor in, we can see some sort of commotion going on at the beach, but we didn't pay a lot of mind as we docked and tied up the boat.

Turns out there was a water balloon launch contest going on.  I didn't know it, but there was apparently a $100 prize up for grabs if anyone had been able to thunk us with a balloon in the boat.  No one did, by the way!

 I must have gotten too much sun out on the lake and I was feeling a little light-headed, so I headed to the cabin to be in the cool and quiet.  Captain, Molly, and Bigger went out in the boat, and Gammy and Mama Bear stayed on the beach to watch Cubby play with the big kids.



When Bigger, Captain, and Molly were heading back in from the lake, Captain convinced them to stop by the pontoon platform to fish awhile.  He got up out of the boat onto the platform without mishap, but Molly gashed her thigh and was bleeding profusely.

When she said, "Dad, this is really bleeding, maybe we should go in." Captain looked at her and said, "It is really bleeding.  Drop your line."  Can you feel the love?!

When they finally did get back to the cabin, I took her over to the resort office because one of the owners is a retired RN.  He proclaimed she didn't need stitches (I told you so, Mom!) and gave her antibiotic ointment and band aids for it, stating she would probably live.

Our last night was a quiet one in the cabin given the various cuts, scrapes, and injuries we had.  We had a rematch of the 500 game, and this time the guys won so that was a wash.

Addy came over to say goodbye as she would be gone in the morning when we left.  It was a typical Minnesota goodbye that took about 2-1/2 hours.  We reminisced and visited and laughed and laughed and laughed.  It was awesome.

Thursday morning no one was moving very quickly.  When I finally rolled out of our bedroom to get coffee, the first thing Bigger told me was that Captain has spent the night sleeping in the recliner in the living room in nothing but his boxers, holding the 2-gallon container of cheese balls in his lap...and snoring away.  Can you believe no one thought to take a picture of this tableau??  Opportunity missed. 

We had an easy breakfast of cheerios before starting to pack up and do the check-out housecleaning chores.  Everyone pitched in, so it wasn't long before we were ready to check out and hit the road home.  We settled our bill, bought some T-shirts, and had a family picture taken with the lake as a backdrop.

We were a 2-car caravan to Grand Rapids, and then we veered east while the kids headed south.  Captain knew how much I missed seeing Lake Superior last fall, so he detoured to Duluth on our way home.

We stopped in Canal Park and had really excellent pizza at Old Chicago Pizza, and then wandered down to the lift bridge.  There was a ship way out on the lake that would be coming in, but we didn't have time to wait for it.  But, I'd had my glimpse of that wonderful water, so we headed home.

We had one last detour to Jay Cooke State Park to show Gammy the swinging bridge and the stacked slate stones underneath of it.  We checked out the visitor's center and one last potty break before really hitting the road for home.

I dragged out my crochet and plugged in my audio book until we were well into the Cities traffic.  I"m so glad Captain was driving because driving in the Twin Cities makes me crazy.  Didn't seem to faze him at all, though.

As much fun as we had at Loon's Landing with Addy and her family--enough fun that we are definitely going to do that again--it was nice, as always, to pull into our own driveway.

Here's to your summer adventures being memorable and much, much fun!

Saturday, July 13, 2019

Ag Education 101



One of the reasons that I do this blog--other than poking fun at Captain--is to inform the general public about the ins and outs and ups and downs of farming.  Believe me, we will use any opportunity as a teachable moment in order to raise public awareness about agriculture.

Even better is when that education can be done in person.  Such as the other night when my good friend, James, and his husband, Herman, came to visit.

James was the first physician I worked for when I started at Mayo Clinic.  He was in his residency then and we sort of learned the Mayo way together.  We've stayed close over the years even though visits have been rare but precious.

Usually when James is in town, I meet him for lunch, and we catch up which is what we did several months ago.  At that time, I told him the next time he was in Rochester, he and Herman should come out for supper because then Herman and Captain could get in on the fun, too.



That day rolled around on Wednesday.  They got here early enough that we took a leisurely tour around the Brogan Ranch to peruse Calf Country, the flower beds, and the vegetable garden.  Bonus round in the vegetable garden was identifying all the weeds that they don't have in Phoenix:  quack grass, lamb's quarters, and water hemp.



After that we expanded our tour, and Captain drove us around some of the back roads so James and Herman could see soybean fields, corn fields (which all look like crap right now), and hay fields.  We rounded out the tour at a neighbor's dairy farm where Captain helps out several days a week.

They got to see a different Calf Country, some chickens, Hamilton the 500-pound pet pig, a free stall barn, and a milking parlor.  Herman even got to strip out a quarter on one of the cows!

You know how sometimes when you are introducing someone to something that is well outside their wheelhouse, and they ask questions but you can tell it is just for form's sake?  Not so this time at all.  They asked intelligent and thought-provoking questions and were genuinely interested in the answers and learning more about where food comes from and what it takes to get it from farm to table.  I love when that happens!



By the end of the tour, we were all hungry so we headed back to our house.  I went in to finish getting supper ready while Captain gave a Farm Machinery introduction class outside.  James and Herman now know everything about corn planters and AgCo Allis tractors!

We had hoped to be able to enjoy the evening on the deck but rain showers changed those plans so we simply visited around the table.  Herman had hit up the farmer's market in Rochester and put together a wonderful salad that was A-MAZE-ING!  Captain even had seconds of that for two reasons:  (1) he really likes salad and (b) he really doesn't like meatballs.  We all pretty much gorged ourselves over much laughter and good conversation.

The meal was rounded out with some of what I told them was half-assed mousse (not moose, eeeuuuwww).  It was a recipe I had tested for Cook's Country, and I had biffed it up a bit by folding the chocolate into the eggs instead of folding the eggs into the chocolate.  Didn't matter; it still tasted okay.  Looked a little funny, but tasted just fine!

After we waved them good bye at almost 10:30, Captain said to me, "I hope they enjoyed hearing and seeing all the farm stuff."  Sharing our knowledge with others is always a positive thing, but when we can share it with good friends, it's even better!

Monday, July 8, 2019

She Shed Shennanigans


Image courtesy of  WordsOnImages.com

Ladies, have you ever been so upset with your significant other that for your own sanity--and his physical well-being--you have needed some space to cool down? 

Yeah, I didn't think I was the only one.  Even Cubby is on board this train.  She stayed overnight last week, and during the course of the evening when I was not home, Grampa took the tablet away from her so she couldn't watch YouTube anymore. 

When I got home from my meeting (and kudos to Grampa for Cubby-sitting in my absence), she comes running to the door to tattle on him. 

"Gramma, Grampa was being a putz!"  She put on a little pouty face and said, "He took away the tablet." 

Cry me a river, honey bunny; you'll live.  Did you have fun anyway?  Of course she did.  

On the same note, my friend, Marcie, and I were talking about this the other day, and we decided that a Shared She Shed for Shelter from Shitheads is a must in any community.  What say y'all?  

Am I right?  Men have had their gentlemen's clubs and Man Caves for years.  As if they need to take a break from the wonderful women that they are married to; I mean, come on!

The S.S.S.S. would only be open and available to those citizens not burdened with a Y chromosome and would be open 24/7 as a Her Haven. 

Image courtesy of ravishly.com

Some of the perks would include:
  • Endless supplies of wine, chocolate, caramel, and coffee.  
  • There would be no calories in anything that is eaten.  
  • It would need to have comfortable seating for those all-night gripe and grumble sessions.  
  • Sleeping accommodations for when someone tried to deplete the wine supply.
  • It would automatically clean itself.  
  • There would be a meditation garden for that Zen feeling.
  • No cell phone reception.
  • No clocks.
I am not saying we don't love our guys, because we do.  I'm just saying that sometimes we all need to recharge our girl power without XY interference.  

Because this isn't feasible (damn and double damn), we have to find other ways to decompress.  For some, that means immersing themselves in music or other fine arts.  For others, it is physical activity.  Yes, I am talking about beating the rugs and imagining it is your man. 

Image courtesy of WomenWorking.com
For me, it's crocheting.  I know enough simple patterns that I can sit down and do by rote without having to think about it, leaving my mind free to empty out and rejuvenate itself.  It's an activity I can be alone and enjoy or have company with other happy hookers and do a little venting while creating.  

Whatever it takes to help us maintain our relationships is good because at the end of the day, it is our relationships that will get us through anything.  

But wine and caramel don't hurt.  Just saying!

Wednesday, May 29, 2019

The Great Goat Float Incident

Image courtesy of clipartlibrary.com
Parade season will soon be upon us.  I know this because I am in charge of organizing the Pine Island FFA Alumni float each year for the Pine Island Cheese Fest, which is the first festival of the summer.  So, side note, mark your calendars for June 2 in Pine Island!

Parades were a big part of my summers as a kid, first as a spectator and later on as a participant with my peeps on unicycles.  Boy, those were the days!

No parade, however, will be as etched in my mind as the Elgin Cheese Days parade with the Great Goat Float Incident.

This escapade for many years was top secret and never spoken of outside of the circle of instigators, mainly to protect some minors who had been involved.  And mostly to irritate the crap out of one particular person specifically.  I shall not name this person because those minors who are now adults still need to be protected.

If you've followed this blog at all, or know anything about me, you know that my dad and his cronies were first class imps and often up to mischief.  I've always maintained their mischief was never malicious, and I'll stand by that, although you may not agree with me by the end of this post.

Anyway, any one who really knows me, or knew my dad and his buddies, knows that hauling outhouses around in the middle of the night was the height of entertainment in and around Potsdam, Elgin, and Plainview.  If you don't know this, please read Outlaws and Outhouses before reading any further here.

During one particular night of entertainment, the Terrifying Triad consisting of my dad and his two buddies decided to up their game.  They wouldn't just leave an outhouse this time.  No, now they'd add livestock to it.  What better livestock to go with an outhouse than a goat, right?  Sure, why not?

Now, Elgin, Minnesota is not now nor has it ever been a thriving metropolis, but it's a pretty little town in the country.  On the outskirts of town proper, there is a subdivision of more upscale homes than the bungalows inside city limits.

This area of Elgin was called Wood Lawn Estates, and the entrance into the subdivision was right off of Highway 42, which served a a main trunk road between I-90 and Wabasha and one of the three crossings into Wisconsin.  In other words, it wasn't just local yokels (no offense to my fellow yokels) who were going to witness this gag.  It was travelers possibly from far and wide.

So in the dark of night, the Terrifying Triad loaded up the outhouse to be used, collected the goat from who knows where, and made their way to the first lot in Wood Lawn Estates that abutted Highway 42.  They got the outhouse unloaded and staked the goat to it.  The final flourish that made this escapade different than most was the sign they erected in front of the outhouse and tethered goat:  Wood Lawn Estates Goat Ranch.  They drove away, satisfied with their night's work.

The owner of that lot where the outhouse and goat had been left failed to see the humor of the situation and knew full well who had done it but couldn't prove it, of course.  This made him rather discontent and grumpy.

How do parades play into this, you might ask?  Wait for it, my pretties, wait for it.

Shortly thereafter, it was time for Elgin Cheese Days, the weekend when Elgin's population of 625 exploded with visitors eager for deep fried cheese curds, grilled chicken, and of course, the parade on Sunday afternoon.

The Terrifying Triad all attended the same little country church in Potsdam, and after Sunday services while the kids were in Sunday school, they were in the basement having coffee and cookies with the other men of the congregation.  One guy was talking about the new pickup that he had just picked up from dealer the day before...it didn't even have 100 miles on it yet.

I don't know whose mind first thought up the next scheme because--hey--I was in Sunday School, but by the time we all left church there was a mastermind plan in place to really irritate the Wood Lawn Estates lot owner who'd had an outhouse and goat in his front yard for God and country to see.

The masterpiece plan included:
  • The brand new pickup that no one would recognize being driven by an out-of-town visiting relative dressed in a gorilla suit
  • A utility trailer with the outhouse on it hiding a boy holding the rope halter for the goat
  • Two men dressed as the Goat Queen and the Runner Up
  • Two girls dressed as Goat Queen attendants
They got to the parade and got entered last minute as a parade unit.  The side of the pickup was bedecked with a banner proclaiming it to be the Wood Lawn Estates Goat Queen and her court.  The float got lots of laughs because the "queen" was well-known, even in drag, to many of the spectators.  No one knew who was driving the unrecognized pickup thanks to the gorilla costume.  The two girls were just there as window dressing and didn't really have much to do with any of it other than waving to the crowd.  Elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist is the proper parade wave, just so you know.  

Then, toward the very end of the parade route, all hell broke loose.  The irritated lot owner saw the float with its sign and its mascot, which was fine.  Then he saw the banner on the back with his home phone number, and THEN he charged the float fully determined to do some physical damage.  The driver quickly locked the doors and rolled up the windows before the irritated lot owner could pull off the face mask of the costume.  

Next the irritated lot owner ran to the back of the float and jumped on the utility trailer, scared the crap out of the goat--quite literally--and proceeded to try and push open the door of the outhouse that was now being held shut by the boy inside bracing his feet against the door.  

The Queen and her runner up jumped out of the bed of the pickup where they'd been riding and one got the irritated lot owner under control while the other one pulled the hitch pin so the driver could escape.  The two girls simply stood in bewilderment as chaos ensued.  In all the confusion, the boy in the outhouse sneaked out and took refuge in a corn field that ran along the street where the float had stopped.  

You can't make this kind of stuff up, but if you don't believe my tale, here is photographic proof. 
The Wood Lawn Estates Goat Queen court
Let's just pause here and admire the brilliance of a group of adult men who not only could come up with that scheme in under 30 minutes after church on a Sunday morning in rural Minnesota but could pull it off so successfully!  And let's applaud them:  well done, Terrifying Triad, well done!


Friday, May 3, 2019

Flashback Friday

I saw a post on Facebook recently that took me back in time to my tween years.  It was a note handwritten on a piece of paper that had then been folded up into a sturdy little triangle.  Once it was all folded up, you could balance it on one of its points with the straight edge facing you and flick it so that it would fly across the room...hopefully to whomever you intended to receive it.

Photo courtesy of Reddit.com

Woe betide the person who aimed poorly and had it land on the teacher's desk!

I also used to know how to fold a piece of paper up into a self-contained rectangular envelope.  My mom taught me how to do that.  Man, she was wicked creative!!  I think she had one of those saved in her 8-ball file so she could always go back and remember how to do it. That original one got discarded in one of Mom's recent moves.  I tried to sit down and figure it out again, but I couldn't for the life of me get it right.  So what does any good American citizen do when she can't remember how to do something from her childhood?

She Googles it!  And, as always, Google provided the answer.  I would never be able to explain it as well as this web page, so I'll just leave this here for you to play with. 

Did anyone else's mom (or dad) have an 8-ball file?  This was a manila folder that was filled with off-color cartoons, really good clean jokes, and weird stuff like the self-contained envelope.  This file was not to be confused with the file folder that held all of the Ann Landers' columns with diatribes against teenage sex, drinking and driving, and rock-n-roll!

Who else knew how to fold up a piece of paper into a little fortune-telling contraption?  Do you remember what I"m talking about?  Better than an 8-ball!  Pretty sure my Mom showed me how to to do that, also.

Photo Courtesy of SkipToMyLou.org

Seriously....she was wicked creative in her day!

She used to help us make book covers out of paper grocery bags (back before the insidious plastic bags).  Even better was when she'd help us make a book cover out of pages from our atlas.  No one else in my classes had book covers as good as mine!

Do kids even use book covers anymore?  Or, I guess the question is, do they even use books or is it all done on iPads and electronic devices?  How sad.

Oh my gosh...this just popped into my head.  Tinker Toys!  Who had tinker toys?  How about a Lite Brite?  I played with my Lite Brite for years!  Oh, oh...Spirograph.  That was the best!!  I actually have the updated version of that in my closet for Cubby to play with when she is just a touch older.

When I was joining my granny square afghan together the other night--or trying to--Captain commented that all that yarn reminded him of playing Cat's Cradle with string as a kid.  Anybody else??

Photo Courtesy of MomsMinivan.com

I don't know if you enjoy being dragged down memory lane with me all the time, but I sure enjoy the stroll!  Cherish your memories, my friends, sometimes it is all that will get you through a bad day.

Blessings!

Wednesday, May 1, 2019

Wild, Wonderful Weekend

Image courtesy of SpiritButton.com
Oh my goodness, we packed a lot of stuff into our weekend!

Friday morning I met Mama Bear and Cubby at Ag Partners in Pine Island for what is lovingly referred to around here as baby swap.  This just means that Cubby is going to be spending the day with Gammy and I chauffeur her there.  She always has to make the rounds and hug everyone and say goodbye before we can actually leave.  She is such a lover!  I usually have just enough time to get her delivered to Gammy's house and get back to my own house to start working without being late.

I took a mini break part way through my afternoon to go out and watch Captain fly a kite for Cubby's entertainment.  You'd have thought he handed her the moon and stars for how excited she was.  She had to tell me about how she and Gammy filled all the bird feeders, some with seed and some with juice.  I hated to go back inside to work; adulting is so hard sometimes!

My work day was finally over and I headed next door to grab my girl.  Gammy was going out with some friends for the evening, so she was busy getting ready.  She told me that Cubby had been anxiously waiting for me because "Gramma Jude is so excited about our sleep over!"  Which was a true statement.

I got her back to our house, and we lounged and watched My Little Pony episodes on TV while we waited for Captain to finish his chores so we could go grocery shopping.  I had the list ready and once he got cleaned up, off we went.

First we had to stop at a friend's house to pick up a recliner we bought from him.  We fit it in the back of my truck by taking it apart into two pieces.  We chatted a few minutes and then proceeded on to Hy-Vee.

Friends, let me tell you, within ten minutes of being in the store with Cubby, I fully remembered why Captain did all of our grocery shopping back in the day while I stayed home with the kids.  Shopping with a preschooler is exhausting!

It's not that she was naughty, because she wasn't.  It was just being on constant heightened alert to keep her in my line of vision at all times, make sure she didn't throw something in her little cart that I wasn't expecting, and the constant, "No, you don't need that today" conversations.

In my work as a personal shopper for Hy-Vee Aisles On Line, I have to admit that I have been a little bit judgmental about young moms who use the service.  I am here to testify that these customers now have my full and unadulterated sympathy and support.  If this service had been available when I was a young mother--and Captain hadn't been able to fill the role of personal shopper--I totally would have paid the price to take advantage of this perk.  I am quite sure it is a life-saver for those busy moms out there, and I am proud to be a part of it.

Normally I work a shift at Hy-Vee on Friday nights, so being there as a customer on Friday night was a little different for me.  By the time we got all the way through the store over to the frozen section--and I had been talked into buying a Paw Patrol figurine--I made a side comment to one of the front end managers that working would have been less tiring!  You forget how busy preschoolers are!

Luckily we all survived the grocery shopping excursion and made it back home.  Cubby was pretty tired by that time, so I let her have my tablet to watch Paw Patrol Toys while we baked a pizza.  Before the pizza was done, she was in her pajamas and ready for her warm chocolate milk and her bed.

She wasn't completely asleep by the time I called it quits for the day, but Captain was still awake watching TV.  At our house, Cubby sleeps on a crib mattress on the living room floor.  No matter how many times I offer to let her sleep with Gramma in the big queen size bed, she chooses the little bed in the living room.

Turns out Cubby and Grampa had some good snuggle time after I went to bed.  Captain said she spent at least 30 minutes honking his nose, and then she was trying to eat her own toes.  Eventually she hopped off Grampa's lap and cuddled back up on her bed and went to sleep.

All I know is that before 7 a.m. on Saturday, I had a Grampa, a Cubby, and a Chewy come charging into the bedroom to wake Gramma up.  Folks, Gramma needs a lot more coffee before she is ready to face this horde!  So rambunctious and happy!

Captain ran a couple of quick errands before the crappy weather set in and by the time it started snowing, he was ready to tackle his weekend project of fixing the dishwasher.  It hasn't been getting the dishes clean...at all...for the last three uses.  I finally realized that the spray arms weren't spinning at all, so the dishwasher was filling with water, sitting there with water not moving, and then draining water.

So I went to my trusty resource, Google, and searched "why aren't the spray arms spinning in my dishwasher" and Google informed me that the pump was probably clogged and not able to build up enough pressure to force water up into the spray arms to make them spin.  There was a very helpful video about how to correct the problem, so I bookmarked that for Captain to watch.

After he watched the video, he unscrews everything he needs to unscrew, unplugs wires that would cause electrical shock if left plugged in, and pulls the dishwasher right out from under the counter into the middle of the kitchen floor.

Can we just saw eeeeuuuwww the floor where the dishwasher set was gross, so it got a good scrubbing.  While I was doing that, I was hearing  a lot of muttering and cursing going on behind me.  Pretty soon he got up and went back to the computer to rewatch the video.  This is never a good sign.

When a simple fix becomes the repair job from hell
Sure enough, what should have been a five minute fix turned into a three-hour debacle.  The video said some part could be detached, and on our model it turned out it couldn't be detached.  Back to the video again.  I was done scrubbing the floor, so I went into the living room to hide out with my crochet while Cubby watched a movie.

Pretty soon I heard the dishwasher being slid back into place under the counter and turned on.  I asked--as any wife will do--if all the hoses were hooked back up and was informed that of course they were, he knew what he was doing.  Okay, bud.

Ten minutes later, Cubby went to the office ask Grampa something, and she came back to the living room to tell me, "Gramma, there is a chunk of water on the floor."  First my mind thought "ice cube" which didn't make sense because we don't have ice cubes in this house.

So I went to see what she meant and discovered not a chunk of water but a lake of water in my kitchen.  Much yelling, running for towels, and sopping up water.

Well that didn't go as planned!
Huhn...turns out one of the hoses wasn't hooked up.  Whoda thunk it?!

After getting most of the wet sopped up, Cubby and I left Captain to finish hooking up the hose, and we went to see Gammy.  After telling me all morning that she wasn't hungry and didn't want the blueberries or the pineapple we'd bought for her, Cubby told Gammy she was starving and proceeded to eat a cup full of pineapple and some ham that Gammy was cutting up for scalloped potatoes.  Goofy kid.

We visited awhile and headed back home.  I walked into the kitchen and the dishwasher was making horrid noises...not what it normally sounds like.  So there was much more yelling and running for screwdrivers and pliers.  Turns out after turning off the water valve in order to hook the hose up, the water valve hadn't gotten turned back on. 

I am happy to report, however, that after all of that hassle and mess, the dishwasher is now working properly!  Which is great because I didn't want to spend the little bit of savings I have built up on a new dishwasher.

Got some leftover parts but got a dishwasher that works!
Shortly after that, Young Man and Mama Bear arrived to pick up Cubby and Chewy.  They stayed and visited for over an hour which was nice because we don't always have a chance to visit with them as much as we'd like.  Everybody is so busy!

After they left, I made caramel rolls to take to Hy-Vee the next morning.  Apparently I started a "thing" back on my birthday when I took in a birthday cake.  The next Sunday it was monster cookies, then snickerdoodles...you get where this is going, right?  Now if I come in to work on Sunday morning without treats, I am shunned. 

I had an hour to decompress in my "new" recliner with my tablet and Best Fiends before getting ready for church.  We picked Gammy up on the way and headed for St. Pius.  For whatever reason, church was packed, and we ended up in the balcony in folding chairs.  It was still a good mass.  I love Father Russ's sermons.  Short, sweet, and applicable to my life.  That's what I want out of mass!

We took the scenic route home and had a nice visit with Gammy.  We got her dropped back off at home and headed home ourselves.  This time when I plunked in my recliner, I was wearing pajamas and slippers.  I was DONE with the day!  Not done enough to not crochet, though, so I worked on a couple of the projects I have going before heading to bed.

Sunday morning I was at Hy-Vee at 6 a.m. with caramel rolls in hand.  Turns out I had to open Aisles On Line for the first time by myself, and while I didn't do a stellar job, I didn't break anything either.  I worked until 11 a.m. and then zipped home.  I opened the back door, and a waft of Pine-Sol greeted me, so I stopped quick before I tracked mud in on the freshly mopped floor!  Yes, that sweet man of mine had vacuumed and mopped the entry way, kitchen, and dining room and was washing the stove when I came in.  Am I a lucky gal or what?!?!

Since he had most of the cleaning done, we decided to run into Pine Island for the Fire Department's spaghetti feed.  Great food and got to see some neighbors to visit with.  When we left there, we had the bulk of the day still ahead of us so we did something we haven't done in over a year.  We went on a ramble.  At this point, I regretted my decision not to bring my phone along with me because I couldn't take any pictures.  Oh well.

Red Wing was our ultimate destination, but we took the scenic route again, mostly so Captain could see if anyone was working in the fields.  Turns out...no, they weren't.  It's too wet yet.

We drove up through Mazeppa, Oak Center, and Lake City.  It was odd not seeing barges out on Pepin, but they aren't being let through the lock and dam locations south of here due to high water levels.

Outside of Lake City, we went to Frontenac State Park.  This park holds a special place in our hearts because it is where we had our last "normal" day before I was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of years ago.  We did some hiking on the trails but didn't attempt the 400-foot drop to the lake shore.  We did that once with the kids when we camped there years ago, and that was enough for me!

From Frontenac we drove to Red Wing where we strolled through the Red Wing Boot Store, Duluth Trading Company, and went down to the Visitor Center and finally a stroll along the promenade in Levee Park.

The thing I like most about our rambles is that I always, always learn something.  This time, while strolling through Levee Park, I stopped to read the historical marker about the Sea Wing disaster, of which I had known nothing previously.

Image courtesty of MinnPost.com
By then it was time to be heading home because there were calves that were hungry.  Once we got home, the last activity of the day was to go to the garden and check on the asparagus.  Yep, it's coming up!  I cannot begin to explain how excited I am about that.  I hated asparagus as a kid, but as an adult....mmmm, ymmy!

Friends, I realize this was a super long post, but I am glad to be able to share part of our lives with you.  Mostly because when I learn something, like that Sea Wing thing, I like to share!

Have a glorious week, pals of mine!

Monday, March 25, 2019

Miss Mary Mack



For whatever reason this morning my mind jumped back to the playground at Jefferson Elementary school and sitting on the ground in a circle with my friends clapping out a rhythm to Miss Mary Mack. 

You know her, she’s the one with all the buttons down her back?

Yeah, I couldn’t really remember anything else about the rhyme either, so when I got to work, I googled Miss Mary Mack.

Memo to me:  don’t do that again because you get the blue screen of naughty!  Yikes!!!  But, if you do the search as hand clap rhymes, by golly it pops up!

So now I have the whole rhyme, plus I have a bunch of other playground memories popping around in my head. 

  • On the swingset locking legs and then twisting the swings up tight and letting it unwind in a crazy, dizzy spin until we’d almost puke.  
  • Hopscotch outside the fourth grade rooms.
  • Ice skating in the winter time.  
  • Freeze tag on the flat below the hill.
  • Rolling down the hill, again almost puking from the vertigo.  

I don’t know why my mind went there today.  Maybe the long, cold, miserable winter and spring is wearing me down, and I need a play date.

Since spring is taking it’s own sweet time to make an appearance in my neighborhood this year, I went looking for it online last night.  I just googled “spring mountain lake” and brought up all the images. 

Oh my!  I spent an enjoyable half hour scrolling through pictures of places I’ve never seen but would love to visit in person.  At the time, I just reveled in seeing something that didn’t have snow in it. 



Maybe it’s because we spent two weekends in a row with Cubby who keeps us young at heart, so I went tripping down memory lane as a reaction. 

Her newest thing is if she wants something that you have, she’ll say “I really love [insert object].”  As in, “Gramma, I really love your tablet.”  Which, translated, means she wants my tablet so she can play games. 

Or, “Grampa, I really love those dilly beans.”  Translated:  Give me some dilly beans right now and keep them coming. 

The last time she was here it was very nice out and the house warmed up to the point I dragged out some capris to wear.  As I was walking past her, she said to me, “Gramma I really love your tattoo.” 

Okay, sister, you are not getting my tattoo or one of your own!!

After she left, I got to thinking what we could do this summer when she visits.  So I went back to Google--seriously, what did we do before Google?--and search for backyard kids games.  Millions of ideas, but the ones that looked like the most fun were the things with repurposed pool noodles. 

Like an obstacle course:



Or a bowling alley:



Or a sprinkler:



Or a giant Kerplunk game:



Apparently I have reverted to my childhood because yesterday at Hy-Vee as I was working all day I had the theme to Sesame Street in my head.  What’s up with that?!

I guess I’d rather act younger than my age and come off as silly than act older than my age and come off as dead. 

Now, in the spirit of elementary school and childhood, I think it’s time for milk and cookies and then a nap.  Who’s with me?

Friday, March 15, 2019

Gave It Up For Lent

Image courtesy of Brainy Quote

This year for Lent, I vowed to give up plastic.  I'm not a big chocolate fan, so that was never going to be a sacrifice for me.  Someone suggested giving up coffee, and I laughed until my ribs hurt.

So giving up--or at least drastically reducing--my use of plastic during Lent seemed like a doable kind of thing. 

Until I tried to put it into practice.  That stuff is EVERYWHERE!!  Seriously. 

Try and go to the grocery store and not come home with plastic.  I'm not talking just the stupid bags that don't hold anything and fall apart right way.  I'm talking all the packaging, too.  I went to grab a six-pack of 16-oz bottles of Diet Pepsi.  Nope, plastic in the bottle and the carrier thing.  For that I opted for a 12-pack of aluminum cans--both recyclable. 

Milk comes in a plastic jug, although in the Health Market at Hy-Vee I did see some actual glass bottles.  All the juice comes in plastic bottles. 

I may have to redefine what I meant by "give up plastic" which, in a nutshell, was to stop using those awful plastic bags.  Those things out to be outlawed.  That being said, I'm not all that fond of paper bags either since the flimsy little handles tear so easily. 

I do have several of the cloth reusable tote bags, but more than half the time I forget them or they are loaded up with something else--like yarn. 

I know that there are direct-sales companies that sell reusable totes, but they are insanely expensive!  I bought one of those for Molly when she was in college to haul her laundry back and forth, and it worked very well for that.  I'm just afraid if I loaded it up with groceries, it would take two people to haul it into the house!

Boxes.  That's what we need.  They are reusable, recyclable, and biodegradable.  Like the ones they used to have at the Food Bonanza warehouse back when I was a kid.  It was out there on Highway 14 just west of Rochester.  Right about where First Supply is now, or thereabouts. 

Does anyone else remember the Food Bonanza?  That was the first concept of warehouse grocery stores like Sam's Club and Costco.  You'd go in the front door and you got a flatbed cart, some boxes, and a grease pen.  The kids all jumped on the cart and my poor mom who stood 4 feet, 10 inches and weighed maybe 100 pounds soaking wet had to push three kids with a combined weight greater than her own around the store.  At least until the cart got too full and we had to get off. 

There was no packaging.  The shelves were stacked with the cases and cartons just like they came off the truck.  You would take however many you needed, mark the price on each item with the grease pen, and put it in the boxes you had grabbed at the front.  This was very much an on-your-honor system.  The prices were clearly marked above the product. 

The thing I remember most was that the canned pop was in the very back corner, and if we behaved well up to that point, we could all pick one can of pop.  We would drink it before we even got to the checkouts, but we put the empty cans, which Mom had clearly marked with her grease pen, up onto the counter for the cashier to ring up. 

Wow, that was a trip back in time and totally not where I was going with this when I started. 

So, back to plastic.  Oh gosh, I just had another memory about plastic pop into my head.  Did anyone else ever use plastic bread sacks in their boots if they had a hole in the boot?  Or was that just our family? 

As I was in the middle of writing this, I found a post on my Facebook news feed with a calendar of how to avoid plastic during Lent with an idea or a bible verse for each day of Lent.  If you do a Google search for "lent plastic calendar" you'll find it.  

I love some of those ideas!  Particularly, I think I am going to start bringing my own reusable tumbler with straw.  I already use my travel coffee mug all the time to refill here, there, and everywhere.  Some places, like Starbucks, will even give you a little bit of a price break for bringing your own cup.  Saves their bottom line, I suppose, not to have to replace cups so often that way.  

I'm not sure how I feel about the "bring your own silverware" concept.  That might be a little bit out of my comfort zone; we'll see.  

I know that I am not going to be able to eliminate all plastic from my daily routine; it just isn't possible.  I can, however, avoid as much of it as I can starting with opting for reusable bag or paper bags, reusable cups, and not using plastic straws. 

I'll keep you posted on how that goes.  If nothing else, it is going to make me more aware of the environment and our impact on same. 

If you have any tips or tricks on how to reduce the amount of plastic we use, please share!!

Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Bird Brains

Image courtesy of SlapLaughter

Remember when I said spring was on it's way?  Man, what was I smoking?!

But still, we are ever hopeful that winter will leave.  In the meantime, we are all doing our best to just get through it. 

This includes wildlife.  To do our part, we have a bird feeder outside the living room window.  It's one of the green cage things that holds a pressed block of birdseed in it.  We tried doing the tube things, but the wind is always blowing here, and more of that stuff ended up on the ground and growing in my hosta beds than actually feeding the birds. 

The reason we got started on this is because I wanted to attract the goldfinches.  They are so pretty in the summer time, and we spend so much time out on the deck that having a few winged friends around seemed like a good idea.

That worked for awhile, and then I forgot to put the bird seed out for a couple of weeks and they all deserted me.  It's been an uphill battle to entice them back! 

Part of the problem is that there are also pileated woodpeckers that like those flock blocks, and they are fat, messy, bullies who scare the other birds away.  Well, except the sparrows.  Nothing scares sparrows.  The darn woodpeckers irritated me so much I quit putting out birdseed altogether, which sort of defeated the point.

Image courtesy of All About Birds

Recently Captain has taken an interest in luring the woodpeckers back to our feeder.  He bought a special woodpecker-specific flock block, and it worked.  There were several of the creatures outside our window.  Captain was ecstatic.

Here's the deal.  Captain's excitement never fails to suck me into a vortex that I didn't want to be involved in to begin with except I like to see him happy.  So when I saw a woodpecker at the feeder, I jumped up and down and hollered for him to come quick!

And here we are at the point where we stand in the birdseed aisle at Menards and debate which birdseed and/or suet to buy.  Part of the debate centers around cost, because you all know how much angst Captain has with spending an extra (or even a necessary) dime.  Part of the debate centers around which kind of bird we want to attract.

I keep advocating for the finches, but Captain is really campaigning for the woodpeckers and cardinals.  Okay, cardinals are cool.  I get that. I wouldn't mind orioles or blue jays, but I think blue jays are bullies too.  

Okay, okay, okay.  We are going to be bird people.  Now I will become obsessive about it because that's how I roll. 

So I spent a good chunk of the evening on Sunday surfing the web looking at images of "DIY bird feeding stations."  Holy feathered friends, Batman!  If you can imagine it, it can be built. 

In my dreams, I would have something like this:

Image courtesy of Pinterest

...but will probably have something more like this:

Image courtesy of DIY & Crafts

In reality, we will likely have something that falls in the middle.  If I talk sweet enough, I can convince Captain to make something out of metal because he is better with metalworking than woodworking.  

To offset the aforementioned angst in the aisles at Menards over the cost of flock blocks, I got a recipe from a friend to make my own.  The recipe actually instructed to make a wreath form, so that's what I did.  

Yep, epic fail.  I always have great ideas and horrid execution.  The recipe called for sunflower seeds, nuts, and berries; I used goldfinch seed.  Their final result looked like this:

Image courtesy of Simple Solutions Diva

Mine didn't look anything like that!  I foresee a trip to Menards for sunflower seeds!  

Whatever we end up with outside our living room window, metal or wood, thistle seed or sunflower seed, woodpecker or finch will be fine because it gives us an opportunity to enjoy a hobby together while being good stewards to God's creatures.  

Spread your wings and fly today, my friends!

Wednesday, February 27, 2019

Inspiration Across The Years

The following is not mine.  It is from Vicky Fick of Lake City, Minnesota, published in the Plainview News circa 1980s, and I am so excited to share it with all of you.  

This right here has been my biggest inspiration to be a writer.  I remember when this article came out, and my family sat at the table while my mom read it out loud--it's even funnier out loud--with many dramatic pauses and artistic flair.  We busted our guts laughing because it could have been us who said these things and had these things happen.  

My dad would quip about nice brown cows when we had a animal that was misbehaving.  We also had self feeders, and he would say "need to push feed down self feeder" all the time.  For weeks, months, even years after the article came out, it was still a part of our family's lexicon.  

Over the years, when I would write something and end up doubting myself, this article would come back to me and remind me that there is an audience for agriculture humorous essays.  This article was what kept me from chucking everything I wrote into a trash can.  

You might know that I recently pleaded with my Facebook peeps to help me connect with Vicky because I couldn't remember her last name.  When I was given her name, I contacted her to let her know how much this article has meant to me for more than half of my life.  And to ask for a copy of it, which she kindly sent to me last week.  

As I read it out loud to Captain (yes, with dramatic pauses and artistic flair, just like my mama) we both were laughing until we cried, and more than a handful of times we both said, "That could be us!"  The silo unloader thing...I can totally relate!!  

Friends, I hope you enjoy this as much as I have and do.  It's a keeper!!

Hugs,
Jude


Monday
Milked cows.  Fed the pigs.  Pushed feed down the self-feeder.  Dead steer in feed lot.  Looks like bloat.  Must be something it ate.  Called vet.  Took trailer load of steers to Zumbrota Sales Barn.  Steers down a dollar.  Bought nice brown cow for $400.  Put nice brown cow in with other cows.  Vet here.  Wants to talk to me.  Vet said steer bloated, must’ve been something it ate.  Paid vet $16.

Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Called banker and asked about a $50,000 loan.  Banker laughed.  I didn’t.  Put nice brown cow back in pasture with other cows.  Fixed fence.  Weaned pigs from two sows.  Wired up gate between them.  Ground four batches of feed.  Poked each batch out of mixer.  Sows in with little pigs; knocked gate down.  Nailed 2x6 across pen.  Got nice brown cow in.  Fixed fence.  Starting to snow.  Milked cows.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Sows ate through 2x6.  Locked them out of hog house. 

Tuesday
Must have snowed all night.  Milked cows.  Cow not eating and not acting right.  Must be ketosis.  Called vet.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Shoveled snow out of bunks.  Sows broke into hog house.  Put baby pigs n chicken coop.  Scooped snow out of driveway.  Broke hose on loader tractor.  Changed clothes.  Used snowmobile to get nice brown cow in.  Untangled electric fence wire from track.  Fixed fence.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Vet here.  Says cow not eating or acting right.  Must be ketosis.  Watch her, if it gets worse call him.  Paid vet $16.

Neighbor called; nice brown cow in his pasture.  Sold nice brown cow to neighbor for $350.  We both fixed fence.  Teenage daughter’s car won’t start.  Froze up from running in ditch other night.  Put knipco heater on it.  Fed pigs.  Started cleaning barn.  Daughter running and screaming.  Car on fire, smoke coming from under hood.  Daughter called fire department.  I run to house.  Garden hose froze up.  Grab fire extinguisher.  Hood won’t open.  Run for wrecking bar.  Wrecking bar won’t open hood.  Run to shed for tractor…run back to shed for log chain.  Pulled car away from house as fire department arrived.

Back to cleaning barn.  Manure spreader froze up.  Put knipco heater on spreader.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Checked on pigs.  Rendering truck here for dead steer.  Tire blown out on froze up manure spreader – got too hot.  Called Apple’s Tire service (in Millville) for new tire.  Prompt service.  Finished barn chores.  Pushed feed down self-feeder. 

Wednesday
Ground hog didn’t see his shadow today.  How could he – we never have sunshine anymore.  Milked as usual.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Nice brown cow in my pasture.  Called neighbor.  Nobody home.  Put brown cow in – fixed fence.  Baby pigs have scours.  Guess feed is too rich.  Called vet.  Sow farrowed 14 pigs!  Hook up heat lamp with extension cord.  Hog prices up $1.50.  Banker called to say my note was due.  I laughed, he didn’t.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Broke spring on the loader as I finished scooping last of the snow.  Called Greenline. 

Talked kids into finishing chores tonight.  Going to treat the wife to supper at Clayt’s Supper Club in Plainview.  Vet came, says pigs have scours.  Feed must be too rich.  Paid vet $16.  Called neighbor.  Nice brown cow in my pasture.  Pushed feed down the self-feeder.  Time to get ready to go out.  Greenline here to pick up loader tractor.  Neighbor here to get nice brown cow.  Milkman is late; he slid off the edge of driveway while leaving.  Helped one kid out of self-feeder and then helped the other one milk a kicky heifer.  Boy am I late!  Wife mad.  Canned soup for supper.

Thursday
Didn’t sleep good last night.  Cats fighting under bedroom window all night.  Holy cow!  Cats must have been fighting in barn last night—three cows with stepped-on teats.  Finally finished milking.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Shipped load of pigs to Zumbrota Sales Barn.  Hogs down $4 today.  Sow loose in hog barn.  Chewed through extension cord.  Ripped pants on hog house door.  Sheared the wife’s 12 ewe’s this morning.  Paid shearer $24, got $21.50 for wool.  Went to Wabasha and signed up 50% in the PIK program.  Paid income tax.  Hope I live to Social Security.  Bought new extension cord and hip boots for wife.  Socialized with neighbors.  Late getting home.  Wife started chores.  Wife pushed feed down self-feeder.  Wife put nice brown cow back in neighbor’s pasture.  Couldn’t get fence working.  Wife also got silo unloader stuck.  I climbed the silo.  Dig, dig, dig.  Tell wife to put unloader on.  Yell at wife four times to turn silo unloader off.  Unplug silo unloader up top.  Wife says she can’t hear me with 60 head of hungry youngstock bellering in one ear and silo unloader running in the other. 

Late getting milking done.  Still have to fix the fence.  Took pickup, flashlight, and wife out to fix fence.  Chased brown cow over to neighbor’s side.  Wife plugged in fence before fence is fixed.  Quiet ride back to house.  Wife looking in the book.  Says there must be some words in there I forgot to call her today.  Watched 10 o’clock news.  IRS is trying to figure out how to tax farmers twice in the PIK program. 

Friday
Greenline brought loader tractor back this morning.  Total bill is 282.65--$280 for labor and $2.65 for parts, including tax.  Cows with stepped-on teats all have mastitis.  Called vet.  Bought nice brown cow from neighbor for $375.  Maybe she’ll stay in my pasture now.  She’s looking a little peaked.  Pushed feed out.  Got my annual letter from Wabasha County Treasurer.  Land values went down.  My taxes went up!  Think I’ll pay half of what they’re worth—just like I get for my products. 

Extension Agent stopped today.  Says I should plant black walnut trees on the “80” instead of corn.  Says in 40 years they’ll be worth a fortune.  I tell him how to find his way off the place.  Banker called, said my note was past due.  Nobody laughed.  Sent check.  Vet here.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Vet says three cows have mastitis.  Paid vet $16.  Says he’ll send bill for the mastitis tubes.  And don’t forget to dump the milk away!

Family wants to go to the basketball game.  Everybody helps to do chores.  Help kid out of self-feeder.  Chores done.  I’m the last in the shower.  Hot water all gone again!

Saturday
Nice brown cow had twin calves in pasture last night.  Carried them to the barn.  Twin calves looking peaked.  Called vet.  Pushed feed down self-feeder.  Pickup won’t start.  Need a pull.  Banker called, said he might give me the loan if the cattle prices would go up.  I laughed; he did too.  Loader tractor broke down again.  Can’t get a decent station on the radio. 

While putting cows back in the barn this morning, heifer slipped on sloppy cement.  Totally splashed wife.  I only see blinking white eyeballs.  I stifle it.  Offer my red hanky to wife.  Bedded pole barns.  Bedding supply mighty low.  Vet here.  Says peaked looking cow usually has peaked looking twin calves.  Paid vet $30--$10 each.

Wife stuck in mud closing gate.  Throw her a rope.  Use tractor and loader to get wife out.  Hose barefoot wife off outside milkhouse.  Said I could have used warm water.  Wife mad.  Guess I won’t get pickup started today.  Retrieve hip boots next July.

OPEC countries having a gas war.  Yippee!  Gas prices dropping.  Governor going to put more tax on gas.  No yippee!  Prices go up because we use too much.  Then prices go up because we conserve.  Now more taxes.  What next?  Block is putting 50 cents tax on milk, that’s what’s next!  Fix that—I’ll go to Zumbrota Tuesday and buy more milk cows. 

Sunday
Late for church again.  Sermon same as a month ago.  Fell asleep.  Wife elbowed me.  Banged my head on the support post.  People turned and looked at me.  Wife mad.  Had popcorn for dinner.  Sent little kids with big kids to a movie this afternoon.  House very quiet.  Whoopee!  Chores as usual the rest of the day.  Hit the sack early for another busy week.  Night honey, I love you.

Now I lay me down to sleep
Please watch o’er my cattle, pigs, and sheep
Lord I hate to be one to complain
So I’ll gladly take all this rain
‘Stead of something a whole lot worse
Like crops and cattle dying of thirst
And with my family I hope you stay
Guide each one so he does not stray
When from this farming I depart
Ever thankful, How Great Thou Art
Amen