Ack, I've been found out!

I have known for quite a while, from looking at hits on my Site Meter and doing my own test searches, that this site is one of the top sources for info on Lloyd LaPlant musical instruments, thanks to this post. LaPlant does not have his own Web site, nor does he need one; his reputation as a quality craftsman speaks for itself.

I'm still not used to the idea of people I know in "real life", whatever that means anymore, knowing my blogging side. Especially when I find out in rather unexpected ways. Like when today I picked up an incoming call at the office. I answered in my usual voice, and the caller hesitated, then asked "Do you know where I can find a LaPlant guitar?"

After I picked my jaw up off the floor I smiled. Someone was on to me. After a second or two, the caller identified himself; he is someone from our agency whom we work with fairly often, and I have talked with him on the phone many times. "You're on to me!" I said. He proceeded to explain how he'd been to a couple concerts recently, and heard about LaPlant instruments, and decided to look for information online, which led him to this blog. He somehow put two and two together and figured out it was me. I did not know he was into bluegrass, and we had a good conversation.

Call it coincidence, synchronicity, or whatever. As Albert Einstein said, "Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous." At any rate, that call sure made my day at work a bit more fun!

bird bloggers rendezvous at Sand Creek

Ha ha Lynne and Ruth, I get to post first!!!

Last week I got an email from Lynne of Hasty Brook. She and Ruth (the Nature Knitter) were going to the Sax Zim Bog Festival of Birds this weekend and she wanted to know if maybe they could stop by here on the way back! In record time I replied, typing out directions to here from the freeway.

This morning I flew around the house, picking things up and wishing I had vacuumed yesterday. Oh well, I thought, they practically know this place inside and out already, they won't mind a little mess! I got the call from Lynne, saying they had just exited the freeway, which meant they were about fifteen minutes away. More frantic preparations. Then I heard the geese, and then the dogs. They were here! I came outside to see Ruth and Lynne saying hi to Togo the husky.

Moonlight the kitty quickly made friends with Lynne. Sally the Labrador, not to be outdone, cuddled up to Ruth. In fact, Sally did her best to make herself the center of attention throughout the entire visit.

Starflower and Mr. Attitude hid in the bedroom and made their entrance hidden under comforters from Starflower's bed. They were their usual, so NOT shy selves as they made the visitors feel at home.

We chatted a bit indoors, then I took Lynne and Ruth for a tour of the new house. Sally invited herself along, and was a bit of a distraction as I tried to explain what each part of the house was going to be. I took her outside twice before she figured out she could just push her way into the house. She's two years old now. Just HOW MUCH LONGER before she gets out of her lab childhood?

Anyway, Ruth and Lynne were both amazed by the natural views in every direction, the numerous windows, and the open design of the new house. Which makes me all the more anxious to move in! I even showed them the phoebe's nest on a beam in the master bedroom. I was just so happy to be showing off my house in real life, instead of just on the blog!

When we got back to the cabin, the pine grosbeaks were at the feeder, so Lynne and Ruth got their cameras out and took a few photos. They will probably turn out better than anything I have taken all year!

Left to right: Togo, Deb, Lynne, Ruth (thanks Starflower for the photo!)

The time went way too fast, and all too soon they had to be back on the road. I wish we had had more time just to chat over a cup of tea. Maybe that will happen in the future. Anyway, Lynne and Ruth, thanks for taking the detour off the freeway and stopping by here! I really enjoyed your visit! Sally did too, and she says come back soon. :)

guess who/what I found at the thrift store?

A fellow blogger! GTR of Raising Frolic!

Well, and jeans for Starflower and myself, and an aquarium, which will be the new and improved Turtle Hotel. But that's another post.

GTR happened to be on the way home to Duluth from a meeting in the cities, and she had stopped at the store in the town where I work to browse. I had decided to leave work early, because The Hermit had to leave in the afternoon for a meeting so I wanted to be home with the kids.

A few other errands probably were crucial for the timing of our chance meeting. I had to mail one bill at the post office, then swing by the feed store for sunflower seeds, dog food, and rabbit food. (Again, that's another post!) Then I parked downtown to put the garbage bill in the drop off box so I could save 41 cents. The drop off box is conveniently located next to the thrift store; I hadn't thought of stopping there today, but then I thought "Maybe, just maybe, they happen to have an aquarium." I walked in, did my usual browsing, picking out $5 and $3 jeans, and tried to figure out where they would put an aquarium if they had one. I had almost given up, when I remembered a back corner of the store I hadn't searched. Success! One ten gallon aquarium, $10. I was just grabbing it off the shelf when a nicely dressed, slightly familiar looking woman came up to me.

"Are you Deb?"

"Yes!" (where do I know her from? Think, think...)

"I'm Gina, from Raising Frolic!"

Wow. What are the odds of THAT happening! We talked a little while we paid for our purchases, and made open ended plans to get together in Duluth sometime in the future. She's pretty much the way I expected her to be, very nice, soft spoken and down-to-earth. It was a real, unexpected pleasure to meet her!

Gina- our chance meeting really made my day! Thanks for having the courage to come up and ask me if I was who you thought I was-- I don't know if I could have done it! :)

When bloggers meet in real life

Today we arose early, got the whole family in the van and on the road by 6:15, and arrived at my dad's house just past 8:00, in another (failed :( ) attempt to get the RV started. We'll get it, eventually, but it's hard when you have to drive 100 miles to perform motor repair.

The day was anything but a failure for me, however. Last night I got a bright idea: since I was going to be in the area, why not see if Lynne and I could meet up somewhere? She lives near my old high school, less than three miles from my dad's house. So I dashed off an email, and to my delight she had some free time in the morning and actually wanted to meet me! She suggested a nearby coffee shop, and we planned to meet at 8:30.

What a great time. Now I'm not normally one to spend an hour and a half in a coffee shop gabbing with girlfriends, but it really felt like I was talking with an old friend. We talked on and on about our lives, our kids, birding, blogging, and our common connections; it turns out her parents lived for a while up near my place after they retired, and her daughter is going to high school this fall at my old rival high school, and her son wants to go to my old high school.

It's funny, this blogging thing. You reveal as much of yourself as you feel comfortable, and in turn you get to know others just by reading what they reveal about their lives. In blogging you develop a character, and when you meet another "character" for real, you feel like you already know so much about them! I can say that Lynne is every bit as sweet, funny, and genuine as she is on her blog. I hope she didn't think I was a total doofus... Really, I don't get enough practice at adult conversation these days.

Lynne, it was a real pleasure. Hope to meet up at Hasty Brook soon! :)

Art Hawkins, conservationist, has died at 92

Art Hawkins, a retired Fish and Wildlife Service employee and former student of Aldo Leopold's, died yesterday afternoon. According to his daughter Amy, he was in perfect health for his age, sharp as a tack, and had been his usual, active, involved, good natured self right up to the end. He had been out for a hike at his farm north of St. Paul, enjoying a warm springlike day and watching ducks and geese on the marsh he loved so well and fought to save. Amy found him near the barn, walking sticks in hand and binoculars around his neck, around 5 pm. He died in much the same way as his mentor Leopold did, suddenly, without prolonged suffering, outdoors. It was how he would have wanted to go.

Many wildlife biologists are more at home outdoors in the field than indoors meeting with people and getting involved in issues related to conservation. Not Art. He was an activist, an advocate for waterfowl and habitat. He helped to form the Wood Duck Society, a group devoted to studying this species and educating people about conservation. He successfully fought developers who wanted to build on his marsh, although he was the subject of lawsuits intended to silence him. It was partly because of his fight that the state of Minnesota passed legislation against such lawsuits. He often had letters to the editor published, intelligent but sharply critical of waterfowl management policy and habitat destruction.

I had the privilege of knowing Art personally, and he was a warm, kind person. We had dinner at his house several times and I was always impressed by his knowledge, passion for life, and sense of humor. He and his wife Betty sent us Christmas cards and gifts when Calvin and Starflower were born. Just a week ago as I was driving on I 35E north of St. Paul, I looked across his marsh, his farm visible from the freeway, and thought of him. I wish we had kept in touch more. He will be missed. I hope those who learned from his example will keep up the fight for the health of the land.

Added 3/13: Here is a link to a more complete story about Art Hawkins, from the St. Paul Pioneer Press:

A friend is a friend...

I met a new friend today, who lives a half mile down the road from us. Never mind that this new friend, and her husband and two daughters, have been here since we came here over three years ago, and we have met on several occasions. I just didn't realize until today that the potential for friendship existed.

Maybe I was being too judgmental, or maybe it was the inner hermit in me that wasn't keen on frequent contact. I didn't know what to think the first couple of times we met. Our kids didn't hit it off right away, a year or two ago, which cancelled the potential for playdates. The Bush/Cheney campaign sign at the end of their driveway certainly didn't help things, neither did the chop job forestry they had done on their land last year. Maybe I was making excuses why we could not find common ground. And for that I apologize.

Today the kids wanted to bring some eggs to Dick and Patty, but they weren't home, so The Hermit took them to the next house down the road. When they came back, the kids were excited; they had been invited to come over and go sledding and snowmobiling in the afternoon. Oh great, I thought at first. My weekends are precious, and I wanted to get some music practicing done. But don't I do that every weekend, and don't the kids just sit in here playing video games too much anyway? So we bundled up and headed over there after lunch. We ended up staying until after dark. The kids went sledding (their land is not flat like ours) and B took them riding in the sled behind the snowmobile on the trails they have through their 80 acres.

H and I ended up talking a lot. Mr. Attitude and their younger daughter are in the same preschool class, and it turns out they are best friends there. Their house is warm and cozy, with enough room for the kids to play when they came inside. We started out with tea, then graduated to spiked eggnog, then rum & Coke. It was hard to finally be the one to say we had to go home. I invited them over for ice skating when I get the snow cleared off the pond.

I realized something today. We are all reaching out, crying out for companionship. It can be tough sometimes out here in the country. Here we are outsiders; we don't have the privilege of having grown up here and having family ties. We are just "those new people that moved up from the city". B and H and daughters don't have friends with kids in the area; it was a treat for their daughters to have other kids over. It was a treat for my kids, to enjoy some time outdoors and play with other kids indoors. And it was a treat for me, to have some adult talk with a fellow mother.

I now have two friends who live within a mile of me. Not bad for living way out there in the country.

Mr. Attitude goes to the ballet

(subtitled: Mom needs another beer. NOW!)

Wow, what a day. Dick and Patty, our neighbors whom I've decided I'm adopting as surrogate parents/grandparents, they're that wonderful, offered to take any or all of us to see "The Nutcracker" in Duluth this afternoon. Calvin and Starflower had gone with them two years ago; at the request of Starflower at the time, I did not accompany them then. But today I decided Mr. Attitude was maybe old enough to get something out of it and not drive anyone crazy in the process, so he went. I went along, because I had never seen "The Nutcracker" performed live, and because I wanted to remain on speaking terms with Dick and Patty re: Mr. Attitude. Since we all would not fit in their Escort sedan, I offered to drive in our Astro van.

It was a beautiful day for the drive up Highway 23, the back route to Duluth. I kept my eyes open for owls, hoping to see a snowy, great gray, or hawk owl. The Hermit claims to have seen a hawk owl yesterday; Patty thought she had seen a great gray recently, and another friend of ours saw a great gray yesterday. I have not had much luck with owls so far this year, although there have been reports of snowys throughout the state. We saw beautiful sunlit forests, but no owls.

I'll start by saying the performance was brilliant. It amazes me that a city the size of Duluth (95,000 or so, not counting the other Twin Port of Superior, WI and outlying "suburbs") can support a ballet company of such caliber. The scenery and effects were wonderful, and the talent of the dancers amazed me.

That said, Mr. Attitude's performance was less than stellar. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt; it was a completely new situation, and he can be sensitive to aspects others of us may not notice, such as light level (he didn't like being in the darkness of the audience), noise level (he said the orchestra was too loud), and overall juju. Perhaps he takes after me; I have been in some situations where I just get a bad vibe somewhere, and all I want to do is bolt for the door at the nearest available opportunity.

So I sat through the performance with a noticeably uncomfortable, very squirmy Mr. Attitude. After the first five minutes he started repeating "Mom, I don't like BEING HERE!" Just as I had feared. I managed to hold him, reassuring him when necessary, and keep him from disturbing others too much. I had to drag him in after intermission.

I only had to take him out once during the second act, during the Waltz of the Flowers. We were back before the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, and the Grand Pas De Deux, which I did not want to miss. But in the process, I noticed I had lost one of my earrings. They were the largest earrings I owned, hand crafted titanium with a forest scene, that The Hermit had bought me in Vermont. I was sick. I own more single earrings, that had once been part of a pair, than I care to mention. But I decided to be positive; perhaps we would find it, or we would notify the facility and perhaps they would find it while cleaning up. Or maybe it was gone forever, and that would not be too bad. Whatever.

As it turns out, we notified an usher, who was more than kind, and I left my phone number and a description of the earring should anyone turn it in. By the time I got home, there was a message on the answering machine; they had found it!

So we got home, and the kids started immediately into their usual efforts to dismember each other despite my loud vocal protestations. I informed them I would not be taking any sides, not offering any sympathy should one be hurt. I had had enough. Bedtime is in ten minutes; I am counting the seconds.

a mandolin meets its maker

The name Lloyd LaPlant is widely recognized among bluegrass musicians in Minnesota and increasingly beyond. Although he is an accomplished guitarist and plays with members of his family occasionally in a band, Lloyd is not recognized so much for his music as he is for his hand crafted instruments. The LaPlant name is inlaid in abalone and mother of pearl on some of the finest sounding guitars and mandolins to be found anywhere.

Lloyd LaPlant built his first guitar in 1959 for himself. He was a carpenter who played guitar in his spare time, and one day he went to Duluth to look for a guitar. When he saw the prices of the Martins and Gibsons, a friend told him that he could do just as good building one himself. He did, and eventually a hobby turned into a vocation. LaPlant started building F-style mandolins in 1979; he just completed number 141.

I am fortunate to be the owner of mandolin number 26, built in 1987. It was first played by a friend of mine, Dick Kimmel, an accomplished picker as well as renowned wildlife researcher. When Dick decided to sell the instrument, he offered me "first grabs" at it. I had been playing mandolin just over a year and was not really looking to upgrade from my Flatiron A-style at the time. However, once I held the LaPlant and picked a tune or two, I knew I had to have it. Sometimes the best things in life just fall into your hands; you have to be ready to catch them.

Lately, however, number 26 has not been out of its case nearly as much as it should be. With the demands of kids and home building, and our limited space, I have had numerous excuses to not play. When I have taken it out of the case lately, it has seemed awkward and difficult to play. I thought it was just me, but on closer examination I found that the strings were up to 1/4 inch off the fretboard, and the bridge was out of place. This required extreme pressure to fret the notes, which sounded out of tune.

Lloyd LaPlant lives as close as any decent instrument repair shop, and we wanted an excuse to meet him and find out more about my mandolin, so earlier this week The Hermit called him, and yesterday I took the day off work and we made the 100 mile drive to his house. It was a beautiful morning for a drive, sunny and clear. We passed indigo blue lakes and quiet bogs surrounded by cedars.

LaPlant greeted us warmly in his shop, where he was working shaping necks for the four guitars he is currently building. The shop, heated by a wood stove in the corner, is pleasantly cluttered with odds and ends of tools, instrument hardware, forms for shaping instruments, and old fiddles. LaPlant, in his seventies, has a youthful, easygoing appearance about him; he could pass for someone twenty years younger. He opened my mandolin case, looking at number 26 as if greeting a long lost child. After looking up and down the neck he said with a smile "Wow, this must be hard to play!" He decided to start by removing and sanding down the ebony bridge, then he would later make adjustments to the neck. As he worked we talked about many things; his experience building instruments, the sources of the wood he uses, the local bluegrass music scene, and family. Taking a break, he took us on a tour that included a look at his two vintage cars and numerous instruments he has collected over the years.

When he had completed all of the work that required shop tools, Lloyd invited us into the house to get the mandolin tuned up and play a few songs. When I started playing number 26, it felt like I was playing a whole new instrument; the tone was brilliant and clear, and my left hand had much less trouble fingering the notes on the fretboard. As I picked my way through a couple of fiddle tunes, Lloyd picked up a guitar and joined in. "It's nice to get the chance to sit down and play," he remarked. "I spend so much time making these things, and too little time playing them!" Although I felt like I could stand to practice a lot more, he complimented my playing. I think the instrument had a lot to do with it.

All too soon it was time to leave; but by the time we left we felt like we had a new old friend. He invited us to stop by anytime. I have an excuse to go back there; Lloyd had glued my pick guard back together, and the glue wasn't quite dry enough to take it. I rarely use the pick guard anyway, but it will be worth the 200 mile round trip to come back here and enjoy some picking and conversation with a true craftsman and a wonderful person.

Went to the ballet today!

Yes, me, homesteading brushape woman from the fringes of civilization, Pine County, MN, went to a cultural event. My neighbors Dick and Patty, whom I am begining to love dearly, invited me and my daughter to a performance of Prokofiev's "Cinderella" in Duluth. Although I have at times been a classical musician and attended a few orchestral concerts, this was probably the first full length ballet I have seen. Part of me was wishing I was down there in the orchestra pit, playing first flute. Yes, and another part of me was wishing I was half as agile and strong as those dancers! Wow!

Duluth is such a cool city. For having a population under 100,000, it has a thriving cultural scene. And it is always so nice to drive 50 miles and see water to the edge of the horizon. I love oceans, but for someone living in the middle of the country as far away as I can get from either coast, Lake Superior is a suitable substitute.

I saw a female goshawk this morning. I was still in bed, from which I have a good view on two sides of our yard and surrounding woods. While I was watching redpolls at the bird feeder, suddenly I saw something huge swoop by. At first I thought great gray owl, but as I saw it light in a birch branch, I knew it was a hawk. It then flew up into a white pine, high enough to catch the light of the rising sun, and I wished I had film in my good camera. What a perfect picture that would have been! The goshawk I saw the other day was a male; maybe they're a pair. Bad news for the ruffed grouse and rabbits around here!

Tomorrow is my 38th birthday. What a wonderful life!

Thursday evening

Well, after the previous post, as I was on my way home not too far from where I had the owl encounter, I saw a dead great gray in the middle of the road. Damn! I pulled over to pick it up, and it was still warm, freshly hit. Probably one of the owls I've been seeing every day in that area. I brought it to the wildlife office, which was on my way home anyway, and luckily someone was still there so I could put it in the freezer.

As I drove up the driveway into our clearing, I became aware of a large bird sitting in an elm tree next to the swamp. This bird was definitely not a great gray owl. I got out my binoculars, and got my best view ever of a northern goshawk. It stayed, perched in the same spot, for at least 45 minutes after I got home. What a beautiful bird.

I had a wonderful visit with our neighbors, Dick and Patty, last night. I brought Nina over there after dinner to pick up a unique object for Show and Tell: the bones of an orangutan hand! They had gotten the hand, strung together with wire, from an anthropologist friend. I only meant to stay for a few minutes, but we ended up visiting for over an hour, discussing owls, neighbors, gardens, greenhouses, and Sally the turkey. Sally is a semi-wild turkey who divides her time between our houses.