strange dream

I was at my aunt and uncle's lake place to celebrate my birthday. (This, in real life, was a very important place to me when I was growing up, when my grandparents lived there). I don't recall who all was there, but there was one aunt constantly fussing over food preparations, shoving more food on the table just as the previous meal was being cleared. I went outside, and my aunt had so many garden statues and other yard stuff lying around I could hardly walk around the house. When I looked out at the lake, which was frozen over because it was winter, I was dismayed to see a monster all-terrain vehicle rally on the lake right in front of the house! They were even using part of the hill for a starting ramp. I was the only one who seemed concerned about seeing it, and I went back inside the house to dig for my digital camera so I could blog about it. (Yes. Blogging has officially taken over my dreams.) It took a long time to find the camera in my backpack, and when I finally found it there was a small group of people standing on top of the hill watching the ATV rally.

This is where the most bizarre thing appeared. I looked up in the sky, and there was a comet or meteor-like object moving rapidly across the sky, leaving a trail of bright white lights behind. It was bigger and brighter than any meteor I've ever seen, though, and more like a cluster of lights. "Look!" I yelled. "Something's burning out across the sky!" Then the cluster of lights stopped moving, and fomed into a large vertical ring that was rotating like a wheel. After that, the lights arranged into a variety of kaleidoscope-like patterns. Then I realized they were moving towards me rapidly. I swear I felt them hit me right between the eyes. I awoke with a sudden expelling of breath, like I'd had the wind knocked out of me.

I don't recall feeling terror, or maybe I did not have time to react.

This is the most vivid, bizarre dream I've had in a long time. I cannot recall any real life display like those lights. No, I wasn't drinking. Not much, anyway.

more brr

This black capped chickadee is utilizing several strategies to keep warm in this bout of subzero weather we've been having. Some have said, and I can't remember exactly where I've heard this, that according to the laws of physics, chickadees should not be able to survive extremely cold weather. Obviously, this bird is not a law student.

One, it is eating. Luckily it is part of a flock that has found a reliable seed source (that would be me). The chicks get the bonus of what to them is an all-you-can-eat buffet, and I get the bonus of being able to watch them from my somewhat climate-controlled shelter.

Two, it is fluffed out to the max. Those down feathers, with their amazing air-pocket trapping capacities, are the equivalent of a good down comforter or parka. Goose, that is, not chickadee.

Three, it is sitting in the sunlight, in an area sheltered from the wind. Microclimate makes all the difference. I wonder if the black cap helps it to absorb more heat from the sun in its cranial area.

Four, it spent the night roosting, probably in an old woodpecker nest in a dead tree (leave 'em standing!), with a bunch of other chickadees. The bent tail feathers I see on some individuals attest to the fact that when it comes to sleepover parties, the more the merrier. The tail feathers sometimes get bent when things get crowded, but all benefit from the body heat and retention from all that chickadee down. But body heat isn't everything; I have heard chickadees can drop their internal temperature at night to save energy.

We humans have slightly different adaptive strategies. We build unnaturally shaped rectangular domiciles and fill the walls with glass fiber fluff. We burn wood inside these shelters, and even sometimes bottles of liquid propane. Sometimes both at the same time. We put on warm clothing. KIDS--REPEAT--WE PUT ON WARM CLOTHING!! Today we even took a few further adaptive measures, like putting plastic on the three porch windows that we'd been too lazy to do before. And The Hermit had to fix the propane heater, which somehow had gotten polluted by some foreign plastic object that somehow got in there. Both measures had measurable effects; I'm not freezing sitting here at the computer and the temperature at about 10 feet up in the main room topped 100. Again, microclimate is everything; on the floor under the bunk bed, a can of pop will still freeze.

fun stuff to do when it's below zero

Did you know if you toss a pan of boiling water in the air when the temperature is 12 below zero (which, by the way, was our high temp for the day), this is what happens? Sorry for the off center photo; I did the tossing and the photography. Anyway, the water vaporizes, explodes, and freezes all at the same time. I have been pondering the physics behind this phenomenon all day, but I still can't quite figure out an explanation of why this happens. Maybe if there's a very good science teacher out there he might shed some light on this. Obviously from the trajectory of the water particles, some sort of energetic release is involved. I learned this trick from a fellow Minnesotan on the Homesteading Today forums.

Another fun thing to do, with the benefit of getting cleaned up without taking an outdoor shower: Family memberships at the school swimming pool are $48 a month. They have open swimming Saturday afternoons, so we enjoyed a swim today, followed by a long hot shower. I haven't relaxed so much or had so much fun in the water for a long time. I enjoyed it so much, I'm going to start swimming laps Tuesdays and Thursdays after work. The shower alone is worth it, not to mention the exercise!

I also spent some time this morning labeling my last 100 blog posts, since I now have this option. I have about 500 posts to go, so this will take a while, but I'm really liking this feature. The only problem is, the floor under the computer is about the least insulated floor in the house, not to mention we didn't get around to putting up plastic on all the porch windows. So I have cold feet.

and it's windy too

it's so cold...

I just found this out: Pop cans are really loud when they explode from freezing. Especially when they are ten feet away in the same porch where I am sitting here blogging at 4:30 AM.

It's gonna be a long weekend...

Opportunistic birding

I had a dreaded "planning" meeting the other day, in which we "professionals" discuss how a huge state park should be managed in the next ten years. My agenda, as a representative of Fisheries, was to eradicate beaver from the area and restore native brook trout streams. But I'm not by nature a persistent sort of person so I think what I may have accomplished, at best, was contributing an understanding of how native brook trout contribute to the ecosystem.

Oh well. I took every advantage of having a meetimg 20 miles away from work; I took the back roads on my way back to the office, and in doing so saw one rough legged hawk ( light morph), one goshawk (immature), a flock of about two hundred snow buntings (beautiful), and several ring necked pheasants. ( I know, exotic, but it was my 30th species for the year!) And, on the way home I saw a bald eagle. Sweet.

Groundhog Day in Minnnesota

First, and this was news to me, we do not have an official groudhog here in Minnesota. The task is taken up, by of all creatures, a porcupine.

Second, the porcupine saw its shadow and was scared, hence six more weeks of winter. Somehow, six weeks does not sound all that bad. But who defines "winter" anyway?

Third, it's way damn cold out and I have a hard time thinking about global warming when it is -15F outside.

Fourth, alcoholic beverages have a wonderful counteracting effect on cabin fever. I would suggest Svedka vodka, not just because of my Swedish heritage. But, enjoy in moderation.

Yeah right.

I done been switched!

After trying once to switch to the new Blogger, and being told, after countless implorings, that they could not do it for me at that time, I have, I guess, switched to the new Blogger. Whatever.

old barn

illegal smiles

And if you see me tonight with an illegal smile
It don't cost very much, and it lasts a long while
Won't you please tell the man I didn't kill anyone,
No, I'm just tryin' to have me some fun.

Words and music by John Prine

I had an illegal smile today. It happened about four miles north of work after I'd slipped out early to pick up Mr. Attitude from daycare so The Hermit could get home from a meeting on time to start up the fire in the house and warm us all up. This time of year, leaving the house for any length of time takes planning.

Anyway, you may ask yourself, what is an "illegal smile"? Well, I got to know the term belatedly from a circa 1970's John Prine song of the same name. Many assumed he was talking about a smile elicited from illegal substances. Prine defended himself on numerous occasions, saying the smile he mentioned was obtainable by legal as well as illegal means. I'll side with Prine.

I have come to think of an "illegal smile" as any personal pleasure that comes from means that are not commercially controlled, or that are largely ignored by most of the population. That is, if I laugh at a line from an NBC TV show, that is "normal". If I laugh at something I discover on my own, that is what is known as an illegal smile.

So I had a great illegal smile today. On my way home from work I had just gotten over seeing a red tailed hawk. Suddenly, there was a flock of brown blobs getting up from the right side of the road, heading towards the left. Sharp tailed grouse. I'm glad one didn't hit my windshield, they were that close. There were four of them.

The rush I got from that experience was incredible. Which led me to thinking, how much is a personal encounter with a bird worth? To me, a lot. And, to anyone who doesn't gain a thing from a bird encounter, I suggest you need to lighten up. A lot.

Every time I encounter a bird, I have an illegal smile. That is, I don't smile based upon what the entertainment technology of my age has produced. I smile because I see something that makes me happy.

Sometimes The Hermit sees all the good birds...

...like the robin he saw yesterday a mile from our house. I've driven by the same spot five times now, and have not seen any sign. Not that I'm doubting him; I think he knows very well what a robin looks like. And, I did see a thrush-like bird in the general vicinity in late December. And, there was the robin last year...

Birding, I've come to think, is 99 percent luck.

high energy

We bought half a grass fed Angus beef last week from a local rancher. It's a big chunk of change to shell out all at once, but the freezer is full of good beef that didn't spend any part of its life in a feedlot, didn't have to endure the indignity of a large commercial slaughterhouse, and didn't have to be shipped from a thousand miles away to a distributor, then again to a grocery store, to appear on pink Styrofoam platters wrapped in plastic.

A bonus from this purchase was a box full of suet. Suet is a great food for attracting birds, but it is getting harder to find, and more expensive, in grocery stores. I've heard the reason is they are now getting more money to render the suet and put it into animal feeds or...well, I don't want to know. But this producer doesn't ship away the leftovers. He also asked if we wanted any liver; he personally does not like it and was willing to give us as much as we wanted. We got about three pounds; I've never eaten liver before, but I'm willing to try.

I put up the suet in a feeder this afternoon and was instantly mobbed by over a dozen chickadees. It's cold out, and they somehow know that this has the energy they need to make it through the night.

By the way, the heavy chain in the background of the photo was one of Calvin's ideas from last summer. I still don't know what he was up to...

camouflage bird

I just took this photo a few minutes ago out the back window at work. The poor lighting in this photo does not do justice to what was probably the best view I've ever had of a brown creeper (Certhia americana). It does, however, show what this sparrow-sized bird's exquisite brown/gray markings do very well. When the creeper saw me as I edged closer to the window, it froze, and had I not been fixed on its location I may have missed it altogether against the bark.

Because of their cryptic habits and coloration, brown creepers are rarely seen although they are a regular year round resident in this area. They prefer mature woods, where as their name suggests, they creep up the trunks of trees gleaning insects from the crevices in the bark.

The close up look I got today showed me, for the first time, the detailed beauty that can be found in such an inconspicuous little brown bird. Nuthatch from Bootstrap Analysis has noticed this beauty as well, and even included a much better picture than I have here, courtesy of Cindy Mead of Woodsong.

Now I'm glad I didn't leave work early, as I had been contemplating; I would have missed this wonderful close up view!

I missed it!

How could I let my second blogoversary just slip by unnoticed? (It was Sunday the 21st). Guess this makes me an old timer now.

I also had my 35,000th visitor yesterday. Didn't check who it was, but judging by the Site Meter it was probably someone Googling "calvin and hobbes decapitated snowmen" or "snowball launcher" or something like that. Seems to be a lot of that going around lately.

I also missed a dog-o-versary. According to my calculations, Sally's first birthday was the 22nd. I could look up the paperwork to find out the actual date, if I knew where it was in my precise filing system. So a belated happy birthday, Sally. You can stop being a puppy now. You can stop chewing everything and start spending more of your time lazily curled up in front of the woodstove. You can tell that younger orange-spotty Hopi thing that you're an adult now and you're way too mature and sophisticated to engage in her puppy games. Okay Sally? Good girl.

Our Internet service was down Monday night, and amazingly I made it through the evening without visiting blogs. Tuesday morning, bright and early, Mr. Attitude wanted to get on the computer to "check my 'Bay". He's probably the youngest eBay fan I know of, but he's only bid on--and won--something once. Luckily it wasn't too expensive. ;) Anyway, I told Mr. Attitude the Internet still wasn't working, and he went into a fit of withdrawal. I went out to the cook shed to get my lunch ready, and when I came back he was sitting at the computer, happily watching Cartoon Network...online. "I fixed it, Mom!" he said. I congratulated him, although I had a nagging suspicion, later confirmed, that the problem was at our local server 20 miles away, and when they showed up for work in the morning they rebooted or said some magic chant and all was well. But I'll just let Mr. Attitude think he did it. :)

Seed ordering, birding, skating, and the latest Christmas ever

In the wee hours of the morning, I woke up to silence. After two weeks of nonstop logging machine noise, it was nice to hear nothing. Well, almost nothing. It was so quiet I could hear two great horned owls hooting to each other somewhere off in the woods. I rolled over, snuggled back under the comforter, and fell back asleep to the duet.

There is nothing like getting out of bed on a cold January morning to a nice fire in the wood stove, coffee ready in the coffee maker (I could live without a bread machine, I guess, but not the coffee maker!) and a pile of seed catalogs alongside my notebook. While I watch chickadees get their breakfast, I plot the garden of my dreams, compare tomato varieties, ponder what it is I really want in a potato (flavor/texture, storage, and scab resistance!), and make up the rough draft lists of what to order and from where. I have about four or five catalogs I try to order from each year, just so I stay on their mailing list and so they have my support for their efforts to keep an abundance of seed varieties available. I believe they are all listed in the sidebar, except maybe Territorial and Pinetree.

While I pondered seed catalogs, with the kids still asleep, The Hermit left to do some Christmas shopping (hows that for last minute!) My extended family, due to various factors, had not yet gotten together to celebrate Christmas, but the shindig was scheduled for this afternoon. Two minutes after he walked out the door, he called me from his cell phone to tell me there was a bald eagle perched in the neighbor's tree across the road. I hadn't had my eagle "fix" for over a week, so I walked out in my pajamas with a jacket thrown over just in time to see not only the bald eagle, but also a dark morph rough-legged hawk in a nearby tree.

That impromptu birding adventure took me out to the pond, which had about an inch of snow over mostly smooth ice. I thought how great it would be to clear off the pond and get in some skating with the kids before we had to leave for my relatives' house. I ran in and got more suitably dressed for the weather, and got my exercise clearing snow off the pond in less than an hour. Of course, as soon as I was finished, it started snowing lightly. The kids and I were still able to enjoy a short skate on the pond, but now I have my work cut out for me, another inch of snow. Oh well, the kids are improving with every skating session, and with my new skates I am rediscovering some of the moves I used to do. They really make a difference.

We made the hour long drive to my aunt and uncle's lake home where we exchanged gifts and news, and cousins played together. It is good and necessary to get together with family once in a while, but to tell the truth I would not have minded at all to stay home, do some more skating (or shoveling), watch birds, and get the garden planning done.

the folly of automation

Quick quiz: this is a) my brain on beer; b) a relief map of some mountain range that Calvin made for geography class; c) my first bread machine failure.

If you guessed "c", you are correct. Usually when I try a new recipe, or mess around with a recipe as I did here, I watch the machine for a while to see if more liquid or more flour needs to be added as it mixes. In this case I was making a whole wheat flour bread and I optimistically substituted ground flax seed for oil, as the flax seed package claimed I could do. What the flax seed package did not tell me was I may need to increase the amount of water during the first kneading. And, because I followed directions and set the machine for the "whole wheat" cycle, there was a thirty minute warming/resting period which supposedly allows the whole wheat flour to absorb the liquids, which supposedly makes for a lighter product. But during that thirty minutes I got distracted, went away from the cook shed, and did not return until some time between the first and second kneading. What I found then looked a lot like what you see here; a mound of crumbly, dry dough. I added more water, but by then it was too late to affect the texture of the bread. It still smelled nice as it baked, however, and the birds or squirrels or rabbits or deer might enjoy it.

Ideally, I would not leave the task of making homemade bread to a machine. In the kind of life I want, I would not spend nearly fifty hours of my week away from home, earning enough money to buy my bread from the store. I would knead the bread by hand, and gradually learn the intricacies of bread making.

Despite what they say, machines don't always make life easier or simpler or create more free time.

the aftermath

The first thought that came into my mind was, "It doesn't look quite as bad as I expected." Really. They left a few trees standing, they followed property lines, and this is the extent of how my view has been altered. You can't even see it from the new house.

But saying "It really doesn't look that bad" is like attending the wake of a friend that's been brutally murdered, staring at the body in the casket, and saying "My, the undertaker did such a lovely job!"

It used to all look like the extreme left side of the photo. The foreground is the shrub swamp, a haven for sedge wrens and song sparrows and bitterns in the summer. The aspen woods in the background are what was cut. It would have looked a lot worse if we had been foolish enough to grant an easement for the logger to build a road across the swamp.

Ah well, this is but a tiny paper cut (unintentional pun) compared to the cancer of destruction we humans have brought upon the planet. But paper cuts hurt, too.

A while after I wrote the first draft of this post, I went outside and heard the hooting of a barred owl, coming from somewhere in my woods. Which reminds me, The Hermit told me last night he had a dream, kind of like Hitchcock's "The Birds", except The Birds were great gray owls getting revenge on the loggers. After the carnage, he said, the owls roosted in our trees by the hundreds. I guess our little woods is a refuge. I like it that way.

fighting stagnation

I feel like I'm at a point where I am fighting stagnation with this blog; I mean lately, if I didn't have those damn loggers to write about, where would I be? And by the way, the noise is as bad as ever tonight, at this point I just hope they can cut their 120 acres ASAP and return me to the nocturnal silence I love about this place. Right now it sounds like I'm living in Baghdad, night and day.

So, back to the stagnation thing. I have no intentions of quitting, or even writing one of those "I'm thinking of quitting because I feel I have nothing left to say, please talk me out of it" posts. I have not yet, in two years, scratched the surface of what I have to say, and I'm loving the blog community thing. I just feel I have to renew a personal commitment to focus on the original mission of this blog: "Notes on nature, phenology, environmental philosophy, gardening, music, and the pursuit of the Good Life in the northwoods of Minnesota."

That means I should be blogging more often. Although gloating after new windows has its place, I should devote equal time to exploring how much those windows, and our construction decisions, mean in the overall picture. (Energy efficient windows, if you can afford them, are a must here in Minnesotarctica. Anything that lets in valuable light in winter, and prevents heat loss, is a plus.) I should post more frequently about my bird sightings. I saw a pair of cardinals as I was going out to fill the bird feeder at work today. I also sighted a red tailed hawk, over a quarter mile away perched in a tree, on my drive home.

It also means the quality of my writing should never be compromised. I feel I have made a lot of mediocre posts about what could be amazing life revelations lately. I fully intend to commit to making this blog a pleasure to read as well as an invitation for thoughtful comment and discussion. I am so grateful for all of you readers out there, whether you comment daily, occasionally, or never, and I want to make sure it's worth your time to check in here.

And, since there seems to be a lack of knowledge, or the willing to share it, about gardening here in the northern latitudes, where frost can hit any month but July, I feel I should at least share some of my successes and failures in the garden department so I can remember them and others can learn from them! My garden is becoming more and more an integral part of my life, and I intend to share more of what I am learning.

So there I have laid out the challenge for myself. Please, in your comments, feel free to make sure I am living up to it!

the sound of violence

I hate to sound dramatic. Maybe it's this relatively weak cold snap that has me in a somber mood, but more likely it's the sound of logging equipment working over 48 hours straight now, all day and night Sunday and today. As I mentioned before, a parcel of land nearly adjoining mine is being logged. Not only that, the last remnant standing trees on tax forfeited land two miles south of here are also being logged. The clearcutting can now be seen from the road in the latter logging.

The incessant whine of the cutters and chippers and shredders penetrated my dreams last night. Yes, they're that close, I can hear them inside the house. I dreamed over and over that I looked out and the view I knew and loved was completely gone. I even double checked when I woke up for real, just to make sure the trees across the swamp were still there. Now, strictly following property lines, they should not log anything directly across the swamp from the new house, and there should be a thin buffer protecting the view where the logged land adjoins the neighbor's land to the south. But how can logging machines see property lines in the dark? I am still concerned.

But I don't think my dreams last night were entirely about my pretty view; Nature, after all, has a way of taking care of those things in swift and unpredicatable ways (remember the Boundary Waters blowdown of 1999) and I should not be selfish enough to demand that my particular view remain intact. Rather, I think my dream represented my fears about the bigger picture: losing the natural world that I love. Whether it is lost bit by bit to development, or in a bigger way by human-induced climate change, or by extraction-based practices such as clearcut logging, I am scared that the landscape I love is disappearing. In the case of logging, they say it is a renewable resource, that it will grow back. But when they shred every little bit of wood and leave nothing to the soil but tread marks, will it?

I told The Hermit tonight, if I didn't have kids that depended on me, I just might go out and confront the monster and tell it what I think of its greedy, short-sighted practices. But what I would do might be classified as "eco terrorism", which carries with it harsher sentences than would the assault and murder of a fellow human being. Even if I didn't harm a single human soul. Is it wrong to protect, or protest against the destruction of something I love if that something is not human?

I hear more than the whine of the machines. I hear the cries of a thousand trees as they die a violent death. Excuse me for being dramatic.

more window views

This view will be lookin' out Mr. Attitude's window. He can check the garden for deer at night!


If you look closely, you can see the beveled edges set into the inside layers of the glass. This is a fairly new offering in the world of windows, and being the fashion-conscious people we are, (Ha!) we wanted to have the current "look". Seriously, when The Hermit found that these were available as an option at Menards, we thought they somehow looked so much better than clear windows, or windows with blocky "panes" built in. They are somewhat reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright's "Prairie" style. Anyway, we liked 'em, and they only cost a few bucks more, and my dad was very generous before Christmas, so this is what we got.


Here is how you will first see the house when you come to visit. (You are planning a visit, aren't you?) The house is pretty much oriented east-west on the long side. The entry door faces west. Just to the left, the master bedroom, unless we can convince one of the kids to give up a loft bedroom!


This is inside, looking over the construction mess from east to west. On the left is an entryway that will have a substantial closet, as well as its own window, yet for energy saving purposes in winter it will be separated by a door from the main part of the house. On the far right, the master bedroom. On top, a very nicely sized loft bedroom for a very lucky child. In the foreground, our great room, the center of which will be the wood stove.


And here at last is the lowly north side of the house. Because cold winds tend to come from the north and west in winter, we wanted to minimize the north window exposure. The left window is the bathroom (with hot shower and bath, pablo) but composting toilet (it's wonderful to build where there are no strict codes!) The right window is a utility room, which will probably have washer and dryer (Yes! No more trips to the laundromat!) and freezer and shelves for my canned goods. This side of the house has a good 100 feet of yard that could be smoothed out before it meets up with a beautiful tamarack woods, which should host some amazing birds for the feeders I will have here.

I am so looking forward to moving in THIS SPRING!!!

House update

WE HAVE WINDOWS!!!

This is just a preview; by the time I got home and got done oohing and aahing at the views from inside, it was getting towards sunset; I'll probably have more photos on Saturday when I can get out in the middle of the day.

I just love how The Hermit designed the peak windows. If you look in the lower right hand corner you can even see the one on the other side of the house.

It's amazing how much wood siding weathers in a year. But with a good stain, the upper and lower parts should come out matching pretty closely.

It's beginning to look like home!

a "miracle" of sorts

Starflower came home from Bible study tonight, eager to do some "homework" they had given. Now, I have to explain, Starflower goes to Bible study occasionally with her friend, not to the church we go to infrequently but another local Baptist-affiliated church. We probably don't agree with the church on everything, but the differences being so little it's a non issue. If she wants to go to Bible study, we certainly won't stand in her way.

So she came home with a worksheet that had questions about the story of Ruth and Naomi. My Biblical knowledge is not that extensive, so I told her to find the Children's Bible on our bookshelf and look it up herself.

She ended up finding the Game Cube disk, Cabela's Dangerous Hunts, which has been missing for several months. It was within the pages of the Childrens' Bible. I had looked for that disk everywhere.

Hallelujah.

A night in a big town

I set a personal record today by being out of touch with the blogosphere for over twenty four hours straight. I was invited to participate in a planning meeting for work yesterday and today, in a city that's often a site for meetings due to its central (actuall a bit south of central) location in the state. The hotel had Internet access, and I suppose I could have borrowed a laptop, but I had visions of a little shopping, and a long bath followed by a long shower in the evening, so I figured blogging could wait for one night.

The meeting was...well, a planning meeting, one in which I felt entirely out of my league and with not much to offer, but folks in my field are not too high strung and competitive about stuff like that. Or I don't care if they are.

I could have hung around for the happy hour/too much beer/catch up on Department news gossip session, but...and this may be news to some...I just didn't feel like drinking beer and sitting around all night! I'm normally not much of a shopper, and I rarely get the opportunity when I actually feel like it, the nearest good shopping aside from the thrift store being sixty miles away. So I hopped in the car soon after the meeting ended and braved the heavy (for me) traffic to hit a big box store across town. I found my favorite brand of athletic shoes (New Balance) on sale, and I needed some new all terrain runners for all of the all terrain running I'm going to be doing in the near future. :) Then, after grudgingly deciding I look ridiculous in low-rise boot cut jeans, I found a sensible pair that fit well. It was nice to be able to try stuff on without wondering what the kids were up to somewhere else in the store.

Then, after a stop at a discount liquor store (gotta have a little fun) I headed back for a salad delivered room service, a vodka tonic, a long hot bath followed by a shower, and a refreshing yoga session, refreshing because I didn't have dogs and cats getting in the way! I tried to do a little reading in bed, but I was so relaxed I turned out the lights before 10. The sound of traffic all night took some getting used to, but not having a dog curled up in my spot took some getting used to as well. Sometimes there's no place like home. Sometimes.

Speaking of home, an exciting new house post will come shortly. The carpenters were here today, and the upper story ends are framed in, and on one side, the outer siding is up and WINDOWS are in! More Windows updates will be ready for installation tomorrow, and I will have photos as soon as I can get them in daylight.

cat x 3

Where does one end and another begin? Who knows. But I do know, I took two photos of these cats up in Calvin's bed, and a cat was sticking its tongue out in each photo. I thought this one, with little Blue Flame's tongue visible, was the least offensive.

Awww! Aren't they sweet?

double woodpeckerage

At my feeder, New Year's Day: Hairy and Downy (hanging below the feeder) at the same time.

log-a-thon

It is strangely quiet outside now, at 7 pm. Usually in the winter 7 pm is always a quiet time, but last night it was not. The air was ringing with the whining, humming sound of logging equipment. It went on for over 24 hours straight; loggers have so much invested in their equipment that when they get a good sale they can't afford to run fewer hours.

A parcel of land that includes a forty acre square that is kitty corner from ours on the southeast is being logged. When all is said and done, part of the view across my swamp will be altered considerably. And 120 acres will be trampled, cut over, and left to new succession. I should not be so concerned; it's just third or fourth growth aspen, which is regularly cut on a thirty year rotation around here. It will grow back, and ruffed grouse thrive in early succession aspen forest. The Hermit even earns his paycheck now encouraging land managers to manage for early succession aspen for ruffed grouse. It's what a certain group of hunters want.

I'm all for the local person making a living off logging. However, I can't help but think this sale-driven model of forestry is short sighted and dangerous. Far too much of the public forest land around here is managed for aspen, cut on a thirty year rotation, at the cost of diverse forest habitat. Sure, a few species might thrive in early growth aspen, but so many others, which are declining in numbers, require a mixed hardwood/conifer landscape with varying degrees of maturity. The county administers the majority of forest lands around here, most of it tax-forfeited since the 1930's, when people gave up on this area as farm land. But the county, in my opinion, lacks vision in managing this valuable resource; if it benefits a logger in the short term, it's good business. Never mind that other low impact logging models have shown good promise elsewhere.

Where is this timber going? Minnesota's timber industry has seen a slump as of late, so most likely it will go to foreign-owned mills in Duluth and Cloquet to be made into specialty high-gloss magazine paper. Great. Just what we need to see more of!

I knew this was coming. The logger who is doing the work stopped by a couple months ago, to ask if we would be willing to sell an access easement across the southern boundary of our land. This would have meant clearing at least a 15' wide road across high land, plus filling in that width of wetland 500' across, not to mention us having to listen to logging trucks driving across it. That in itself meant no thanks, but I detected a certain unscrupulousness on the part of the logger. He never gave us a name or phone number where he could be contacted with questions. Furthermore, he said that if we refuse, he could get the county to force an access across our property. Never mind that he had reasonable access from a county forest road to the south. I think his motive was to log the land, then sell it for deer hunting property "with deeded access". If he wasn't willing to be up front with us about this, then no thanks.

The management of the land, our only and greatest resource, is left to people like this.

Oh well, it's just trees. If there are any rare species there, they will most likely be driven onto our land. More birds for me!

Birds I've seen this year

We're less that 36 hours into the new year, and I have already seen 17 species of birds. I've never kept track of New Year's birds before, but after the Christmas Bird Count I'm in more of a recordkeeping mode these days. I don't know, but I think seventeen's a pretty good number considering I was right at home most of the day.

I can't remember which bird I saw first at the feeder in the morning; a black capped chickadee would be a likely guess, but I think I remember seeing a red breasted nuthatch at the suet feeder in the early morning light. White breasted nuthatches and American goldfinches showed up early, then a large flock of pine siskins, perhaps thirty individuals, took over. I think the heavy snow must have brought them here because I haven't seen that many at one time yet this year. Several of them hit the windows, but none too hard, and I had to free one that somehow got stuck inside the feeder. Both downy and hairy woodpeckers took turns at the suet, and a blue jay hung around but didn't come to the feeder. The other feeder bird for the day was a single English (house) sparrow; surprisingly, this one gave me the biggest identification trouble because I'm not used to seeing them alone, eating at the feeder.

It was still eary in the day when, as I was watching the feeder, I saw a large form soaring behind the white pines. I looked up just in time to see the white head and tail of a bald eagle. Those of you who are familiar with this blog have probably figured out that whenever I see a bald eagle, I consider it no less than a blessing. On New Year's Day, it is an extra special sign! Later I saw an eagle, probably the same one, perched in a large old spruce on the other side of the creek.

The most unexpected, amazing sighting came in the afternoon when I was getting ready to drive to Calvin's friend's house to pick him up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the flock of chickadees that had been hanging around the feeder suddenly scatter. A large bird came swooping over the feeder at high speed, then perched in a pine in the woods behind the feeder. I grabbed the binoculars just in time to get a good look at an adult Cooper's hawk. I very rarely see this species here, but maybe I've just never been around at the right moment.

On the way to Calvin's friend's house I added crows and ravens to my mental list. I half expected to see a rough legged hawk somewhere along the way, and I was not disappointed. Then I was pleasantly surprised to get a good look at a northern goshawk. As I passed through town and started heading south towards home, I watched the sun set over an open bog where I have seen a northern shrike before. I was just thinking it would be a good end to my day to see a shrike, when I sighted a bird perched in a tree top, which took off in a very rapid flight. How shrike-like! It landed in another tree top, and I stopped in the middle of the road (obviously not a busy road) and got a positive ID on a northern shrike, with a flock of common redpolls flying around it no less!

All in all, my first unofficial New Year's Day bird count was satisfying. Oh yeah, I did see one other species, actually five more if you count chickens, domestic geese, guinea fowl, and one domestic duck. The bird, sighted coming out of the oven, cooked according to Floridacracker's recipe, was a domestic turkey. But I won't count it, since there's barely any recognizable evidence left!

A white New Year

Finally!! Snow!!

New Year's Eve started with heavy rain, a dark and dreary day. Then around noon, the rain started changing to snow. Soon big, fluffy flakes were falling, instantly transforming the landscape into a wintery world.

We didn't have any plans to go out reveling anywhere, but if we had they would have been cancelled by slippery roads. Just as well, I had been battling a nasty cold and didn't feel much like partying. Mr. Attitude and Starflower made their own outdoor fun.
The snow should mean increased activity at the bird feeder. Which is good, because I'll probably be sitting inside watching the feeder most of the day, drinking green tea and trying to get rid of this cold.

Happy New Year, everyone!

great blog photos of the year

I'm a little embarrassed...I mean, Rurality, who is called by Pablo the Queen of all bloggers, has compiled a collection of some of the greatest blog photos of 2006...and she blamed me for it! Really, it all started with an innocent experiment with Photoshop. But, it all goes to show how far reaching this blogging thing is. Blog posts are not posted in a vacuum, and I am grateful for that. Thanks, Rurality! :)

Sand Creek 2006--The Year In Review

I thought about doing the meme where you take the first line of your first post of every month of the year and post it, but I broke down in laughter somewhere around March:

"In response to the comments on this
post, which turned into a treatise on bouzoukis, rolling chords, traditional
Celtic style, and diadokokinesis, here is a picture of my bouzouki being
cautiously played by Mr. Attitude."

The rest of the year just gets better...:)

So instead, I thought I'd compile sort of a self-blog festival, a compilation of links to my best posts of 2006. So here goes:

January- in the only musical gig I played in the whole year, I got stiffed the customary free beer. I saw pussy willow budding out early, and took a photo of an incredible sunrise. My photo essay of an outdoor shower, Minnesota style drew some unforgettable comments.

February- We had a cold snap, accompanied by some great birds at the feeder. Starflower started piano lessons, and took an unforgettable photo.

March- I felt the turning point of winter into spring, then we welcomed Sally. I found inspiration in compost, then found out Wendell Berry has had similar thoughts. I turned 39. I fed animals. And I was blessed.

April- My new refrigerator was blessed by swans. I reminisced about the beach in northern California. Starflower took her first swim in the pond on the 8th, when there was still ice; no wonder I have named her Miss Polar Bear Club 2006. The ice went out and frogs started singing. We bought a Farmall H, which proved to be indispensable in moving horse manure to the gardens. With the return of on-lake work, I had two fish tales to tell.

May- I was in awe at the colors of spring, and lamented that sometimes spring is just too much. That is, if seeing the mating flight of harriers is too much! We went fishing on Sand Creek, and The Hermits even went on a date. The starflowers were in bloom. And, amidst the late May heat, we got some new lawnmowers.

June- I planted my garden of dreams, then realized I am indeed living the good life. I held a young downy woodpecker in my hand, went crazy at the greenhouse, and was attacked by kingbirds.

July- I celebrated a midsummer evening. Mr. Attitude got Lyme disease, which he seemed to recover from with no lasting effects. I celebrated my first bountiful harvest. Another garden report, from later in the month. And the Sunday evening peanut ride was fun.

August- I mused about the small rewards that make life meaningful. Then we had an early morning visitor. We had a memorable dinner from the garden. I think I saw a wolf. And, we raised the rafters on the new house!

September- We got Hopi, who is, well...a puppy not suited to my calm personality traits. But oh well, if she hunts... My gardening plans abruptly ended on September 9th with the first hard frost, but all was not lost...Then I experienced brook trout, and the beavers that try so hard to destroy brook trout habitat. But it was fun to see that the local "ditch" has brook trout in it!
And, I hosted my first ever blog carnival, I and the Bird #32. And, I canned a bunch of salsa.

October- I brewed beer for the first time in a while. Snow came early, though it's hard to believe since it's raining tonight, in late December. Our capenter made progress on the roof, even though we ended up having to order more boards.

November- I had a really good music day. I haven't had one since. The rest of the roof boards were completed! I went off on one of my tangents, musing on the connection between music and wilderness. Deep.

December- The Dark Days were already getting to me on the 1st. So you know what the rest of the month was like. And it's too recent to sort out what was really memorable. And it's late, and I am tired.

I plan to compose a "Birding Moments of 2006" self-link-fest as well. Maybe tomorrow.

But if I don't post or comment on your blog before, may I wish everyone a Happy New Year!

Miss Polar Bear Club 2006

Pine County Christmas Bird Count 2006

My Christmas gift to myself this year happened today. The gift was this: taking the day off of work and household responsibilities and participating in the local Christmas Bird Count. I have been interested in birds practically all my life, have been awakening my senses to the bird life in this area ever since we moved here, but until now I had never thought of going on a birding venture with other people, or for that matter, spending a whole day purposefully birding.

I should qualify that "never" thing. I did participate in a Christmas bird count once, seventeen years ago when I was a graduate student in wildlife and fisheries at South Dakota State in Brookings. I was friends with a couple undergraduates and research assistants who were into birding, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. However, being the early twentyish student I was, I had gone out the night before and when sunrise rolled around I had a mean hangover. I only recall sitting in the back seat, pretending to be involved and raising my cheap binoculars once in a while, and wishing for the day to be over. A lot has changed since then. I don't get hangovers anymore.

To summarize: It was a wonderful day. The weather was mild, although a bit more overcast than I would have liked. I ended up riding around with a carload of wonderful people, whose passion for birds clearly showed. I ended up learning a bit about birding, but yet I was able to contribute some observations and local perspective of my own.

The participants in this county's bird count are by and large birders from the Minneapolis-St. Paul metro area. I had an advantage; in some free time yesterday I drove around scouting some of the routes in the area I was assigned to. This proved later to be priceless.

We started off by seeing a northern shrike, which later we would see two more of. That was a good omen. Our common finds for the day included tons of chickadees, some pigeons and starlings and English sparrows (please note my contempt at seeing the latter three), a few flocks of redpolls, and crows and ravens, among other things. Two pileated woodpeckers made a timely appearance, and we found a pair of northern cardinals, which rarely overwinter here.

However, there were a few significant moments that really made my day. The first was walking into a heavy conifer woods right in the nearest town to me, and after having a flock of chickadees practically landing on my head, seeing a gray jay land eight feet above my head. After observing how it flew, I can practically confirm that my late October sighting was indeed a gray jay. I wasn't sure that those were around here, but now I know!

Another moment was seeing a sharp-tailed grouse about a mile away from my place. We have ruffed grouse around here, but I didn't know there were sharptails anywhere nearby. And I wouldn't, had it not been for our fearless leader, who picked out what I would have seen as a blob in a tamarack. We were treated to a good view that confirmed the features that differed from the ruffed grouse.

Speaking of ruffed grouse, I spotted six of them eating buds in trees, when it was getting dark and we were wrapping up for the day. We had seen two grouse in the same spot a half hour earlier, but it was amazing to see the others that had joined them.

But the sighting that totally made my day was one that was a new sighting for this particular Christmas bird count, one that I had seen on my scouting drive yesterday and hoped to relocate. I had seen a male northern harrier while driving yesterday, and upon doing a little research when I got back home, found out that they normally don't winter around here, and that they had not been recorded in a prior Pine County Christmas bird count. So I mentioned it to the group leader and anxiously awaited the time when we arrived at the location. At first, no northern harrier.

Then, about a mile down the road, I spotted something with a lot of white perched atop a small tree, way across a field, so far it hardly registered, but I knew something was there. For the first time in the day I told the driver to stop, and for a brief flustered moment I hoped I had indeed seen something worth stopping for. I found it again, then the others found it: light-morph rough legged hawk. They set up spotting scopes just in time to see Part Two: the rough-legged flew from its perch, and suddenly another very light raptor flew up, seemingly from the ground, to engage in a small hawk-battle. I could not tell the difference, but I was overjoyed when someone yelled out "Harrier!" We found him! The two hawks circled and flew at each other before taking off in separate directions. I was breathless. What a beautiful sight.

All in all, it was a great day; it would have been great had I only seen the above display of hawks. But it was great because I saw that and so much else, shared it with some other passionate birders, and learned a bit about what exists so close to home. I really learned from the experience of the birders I was with, and found out that these people share a cameraderie and sense of humor. I really felt at ease with them, enough that I hope to join in more birding activities in the future.

A Sand Creek Christmas

Calvin shows his siblings how to work a Nintendo DS


Calvin's portable DVD player wins out over the bigger screen TV.

What's missing is a picture of Mom, happily breaking in her new ice skates on the pond.

It was probably the best Christmas ever. It was everything I wanted a family Christmas to be. The stepkids and future step daughter in law came over, we enjoyed good food, presents, and fun. The best compliment was when my stepdaughter liked my homemade garlic dill pickles. "And I'm fussy about pickles", she said.

But the ultimate moment for me was when I was just coming off the pond after a quick sunset skate, after the festivities were over. Just as I had slipped off my skates, just as I was getting up to walk back to the house, I heard the guinea and chickens upset about somehing. I looked up to see a bald eagle, practically overhead, so close I could hear the whooshing of each mighty wingbeat.

What a blessing, after a blessed day.

The windows arrive tomorrow. I'm taking the day off. And I'm taking the next day off, for the local Christmas bird count. Life is good.

there's always room for a Christmas tree

Even when your living space is small. Even when you have two big puppies living there. (Whose place is it anyway?) Even when you find out that white spruce somehow makes you break out in hives. (I didn't touch the tree after the first episode). Even when the room it is in is 16' x 12'. Even when you know this is your last Christmas in this small space. Even though next Christmas we'll probably come over to the cabin just for old times' sake.

may the blessings of the season be with you

As I take a break from vacuuming, cleaning, baking, and all the other preparations that go before the feast, I want to take this time to wish a merry Christmas, or whatever holiday you choose to celebrate. Somehow, I don't think they are all that different. As I near my second anniversary of blogging, I am thankful for the wonderful community of bloggers I have come to regard as friends. Your blogs, your sharing, your honesty really make my day, every day. What a wonderful gift to give.

And I am thankful for that very photogenic tamarack in my swamp, and for the frost that gave it a special, mystical look this morning.

streptococcus, begone!

Okay. It is nearing a holiday, and we want everyone to be able to enjoy it. Furthermore, health care services are severely limited on Sundays and holidays. And sometimes, the days after hoidays. Ask me about my eye experience last year the day after Christmas.

So, I am asking all Streptococcus bacteria to kindly remove themselves from the premeses. We already have two kids on antibiotics, and as a parent I can tell you how frustrating it is to get these kids to take their medicine twice daily. I am feeling some thickness in my own throat, but I don't want to have to make another trip to the hospital tomorrow! Maybe I should have insisted on the family-sized penicillin.

But, in my usual tradition, because of the drive to the hospital (the only alternative on weekends or holidays) I saw one Pileated woodpecker, several humans drilling holes thru ice for some peculiar reason, although they at least had the sense to not drive vehicles on the ice), one Northern shrike, and two Rough-legged hawks. I am an opportunistic birder. It's the only way.

trout lights

It's time to celebrate. The trout lights are up, strung around the door. Beautiful. Too bad they aren't brook trout!

The Hermit and I finally came to a decision that we don't want to travel anywhere on Christmas Day. We'll have our feast here, with kids older and younger, maybe some skating on the pond (I hear I'm getting new skates...heeheehee...) and good fun. Extended family stuff can wait a while. If we were in the new house, I'd invite the extended family and have them see what it is like to drive over a hundred miles one way for a holiday.

I took the day off because Mr. Attitude still wasn't feeling quite right, and it turns out he has strep throat. Not that the doctor could have diagnosed it from his demeanor; by the time Mr. A was examined, he was feeling pretty good and talking up a storm. We had made an original appointment for 9:30, but after we had arrived and waited for fifteen minutes the receptionist informed us that the doctor was running an hour late. Since I had gone ahead and made a hair appointment for 10:30 (why waste a trip to town!) I asked if we could come back at eleven. Fine, we even worked in a trip to the library, but when we got to the salon I had to wait fifteen minutes while my stylist was working on someone else, extracting an earring from an infected pierced ear and replacing it. Ummm...I hope she washed her hands real good before she touched my hair!

So we were late back to the doctor, but we still got in quickly and they did a quick throat culture before we even went in to the examining room. Then the doctor came in, a doctor we hadn't seen before, and he was definitely one that was good with kids, even a squirmy, talkative Mr. Attitude. Quick examination, quick diagnosis, quick prescription for Amoxicillin. While we were waiting in the pharmacy, my neighbor Patty came in. I just can't get enough of this small town life, this meeting friends and neighbors everywhere. Definitely not like where I grew up.

Mr. A and I went to the grocery store and got his usual deli chicken dinner, I got soft tacos, then we proceeded to the park by the river, which is where The Hermit and Mr. A always share chicken dinners. We ate our dinners watching the little flow of fast water rush over an old logging dam, there in a deep (for here) river gorge with bare birches all around us. Then it was back home the long way, with stops to watch a male Northern Harrier, which is really not supposed to be here this time of year, and a Rough-legged Hawk perched in a tree. I had never had such a good view of one perched before. I saw two more rough-leggeds before we arrived home.

Then I put up the trout lights.

rethinking the season

I had an unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome day off work today. Mr. Attitude came down with the fever and stomach bug that seems to be going around, but as he put it, "I'm glad I was sick so I could skip preschool." He looked so miserable for a while, though, that I don't know if it was really worth it. He has said that he's tired of preschool and "it's time to move on to bigger and better things!" There's my Attitude. He's feeling a bit better now.

I spent my day doing a few items on the "to-do" list, but being pretty laid back about it. I spent a couple hours setting up The Hermit's new printer/fax/copier/laser ray gun thingamajig. It's nice that the funding for his position has a little bit built in for such necessities. It prints photos really nice, all you have to do is put the camera memory card in the printer and voila! I'm thinking I might just get a nicely laid out Christmas letter with photos done...before New Years.

But alas, I'm starting to get the tightening feeling in my abdomen that comes with the holidays. I think it's because Christmas is a time of ideals; every magazine and newspaper and TV show has "tips" for the perfect celebration. Confession time: I used to adore the December issue of "Good Housekeeping". A long time ago. But when it comes right down to it, everyone's family is dysfunctional in its own way, and the perfect get together is just a Good Housekeeping myth. If I can keep that thought in my mind, it might make things easier. Holiday Hint #1: You and your family won't miraculously morph into the merrymaking agreeable souls you imagine them to be.

Holiday Hint #2: Create what you want. If it's a Solstice bonfire, or at least a ritual skate on the pond followed by hot chocolate for the kids and hot toddies for the adults, go for it. I have to keep reminding myself, I'm the Mom. I'm in charge of creating memories!

Holiday Hint #3: It's a blessing to have a husband who will endure standing in line outside the electronics store to fill the kids' wish lists. But it's going too far to have to camp out overnight in front of the store to get the #1 must-have Christmas present! The new game console will have to wait until after the holidays, until after the corporations have staged their annual "look how far people will go to buy our product!" holiday abomination. We're just not going that far. The Hermit reports that tempers were flaring, and one woman who showed up a bit too late was heard to shout "Jesus F-ing Christ!" Merry F-ing Xmas to you too. :) But The Hermit was able to bag a couple other highly-wanted gifts; there will definitely be smiles Christmas morning.

Holiday Hint #4: Must...bake...cookies...

finding wildness close to home

This is the view across a tiny bog just yards from my tiny house. The house is fairly evident; in fact if you look closely you can see the silver-tarped roof of my new house-in-progress just to the right of the house.

My point is, I don't have to walk far to see an ecosystem totally different from the usual ground on which I walk. We have lots of bogs around here, some covering many acres. The distinguishing characteristic of a bog is acidic soil/groundwater, which leads to a growth of Sphagnum moss and any of a number of bog-specific plants. Tamaracks do well in boggy conditions, as do black spruce, but the spruce grow so slowly in bogs that a very old tree might just be fifteen feet high.

The Sphagnum moss forms hummocks in which other plants grow. In this picture the tawny stuff on the right is some kind of sedge, with some kind of grass beyond. (My knowledge of field botany stops at grasses and sedges, but I'm still learning...) The reddish stuff to the left is leatherleaf, which produces small white bell-shaped flowers in the summer. The moss also provides good habitat for burrowing critters such as voles; I actually saw a couple of them scurrying along their mossy trails. The delicate-looking tamarack branches would be a perfect spot for a great gray owl to perch and hunt for a meal.


Not far from the bog and house, there is a path that, I may have mentioned earlier, is an old logging railroad siding. I don't walk this path as frequently as I should (daily would be nice) but I know it enough to know that these holes appeared quite recently on the path. I'm thinking the excavator may be a badger, but I didn't reach into a hole to check and see. I have never seen a badger, and they are mostly nocturnal, but it's pretty cool to think one may be that close to my house. No wonder the dogs have been going back that way a lot lately!

bloggers on my mind

You know, this blogging thing really is a community. I know I'm not the only one out there who considers the fine folks I've gotten to know, through their generous and thoughtful sharing of their lives and worlds, as true friends.

And, like a "geographical" community, when there are those in need or hurting, I keep them in my thoughts and prayers. There are two bloggers I am thinking of today. One is Pablo, the sharp-witted but compassionate author of Roundrock Journal. His wife, Libby, is recovering from emergency quadruple bypass surgery. That in itself is traumatic, but Pablo was in Africa visiting his son who is a Peace Corps volunteer when he heard the news. He managed to get on the next flight from Nairobi to London then home, along with his luggage that had been lost on the flight to Nairobi, but I can only imagine what was going through his mind those many hours of traveling. Apparently Libby is recovering well, and I am wishing her fast healing.

The other blogger is Cindy Mead, an amazing nature photographer and author of the blog Woodsong. That is, what is left of it after the archives somehow vanished into cyberspace when she was working on the host site yesterday. What a tremendous loss to the blog world. If that isn't enough, Cindy has been facing serious health problems lately, including an eye disorder that threatens her sight in one eye. The drugs she is taking for this are causing serious problems as well. But from what I have read from Cindy, she is one courageous woman, and one I would be honored to be able to meet in person some day. I hope those archives miraculously turn up, somehow...

So, if you're reading this, send prayers to Pablo, Libby, and Cindy. I, for one, am also thankful for my own good health. Yes, I've been struggling with my weight and right now I am in pain from a bit of fiberglass insulation that dropped into my left eye as I was trying to fix an overhead light fixture, but otherwise I realize that health is a gift and not something to be taken for granted.

I'll admit, I have not been a good blogger this week because frankly, I have nothing to say. I get up in the dark, drop kids off at school, go to work at sunrise, create tables for a report all day, leave work at sunset, come home in the dark, make dinner and try to interact with offspring in the hour or two that remains before bedtime. I think we humans in northern latitudes were meant to just sleep off this season, mostly.

I don't even feel like eating much, and today was our annual holiday potluck pig-out feast at work. Even one of my coworkers had to stop at five pieces of pie, after the big meal. What has this world come to? I did enjoy the luxury of one hand rolled cigarette from Lee, the retired wildlife manager we adopt for our feast. I probably smoke once a year, and it was worth it, except mine kept going out for some reason.

So it's dark and I don't have much to say, really. Except I realize I am now one of the senior personnel at the office, and I really don't have a lot in common with the young male live to fish and hunt people I work with. What do they have in common with in a hippie musician homesteader naturalist like me? In fact, I don' t have a lot in common with many people. I feel very alone sometimes, and I think this blogging community I have found is great because I feel some of our goals and basic principles are very similar. So, thank you all for being there and commenting.

Be careful what you wish for...

...because, as the saying goes, you might get it. Last week in the below zero temps, I was hoping for just a bit of a December thaw. You guessed it, I don't think it even got below freezing in the last 24 hours. What little snow we had is almost gone, and it rained off and on last night.

As I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain against the window, I thought of my pond. Dang it anyway, the ice was so good and smooth. I wondered what it would be like in the morning; probably ice covered with water. Then I remembered...the kids had left a lounge chair out in the middle of the ice. Which meant someone would have to attempt to retrieve it, or we would have either a submerged or partially frozen in lounge chair.

I came home early this afternoon since Calvin was home sick (again, but he's starting to feel better--and it wasn't from the bump on the head, just some pesky virus) and the chair was still there. So I went out, armed with ski poles (for grip and ice testing). I was confident that, although there was a bit of water on top of the ice from the rain, the ice underneath was solid enough I could walk out on it. If I was wrong, the chair was positioned exactly over the deepest part of the pond, which is a few feet over my head.

It turned out there was still a solid, thick layer of ice, but it was extremely slippery due to the water. I was glad I had thought to bring the ski poles. I got the lounge chair, and even took the time to gather the rest of the chairs from the beach area and store them under the boat.

So now it is the darkest part of the year, and I have no snow for skiing or usable ice for skating. The forecast is for high temps in the upper thirties all week, and if precipitation happens, it will most likely be rain. I am worried about the condition of the pond, but the rain on top of the existing ice might make an even smoother surface when it freezes solid...if it doesn't snow.

At least now I can enjoy the Christmas lights on the front of the cabin; in this dark time of year the light looks cheery and inviting.

what is it about cats and boxes anyway?

Puffball decided to take up residence in the Christmas ornaments today. He sure looked cozy.

good skating and other fun

It was a great day for skating and all around pond fun.

I went out right after breakfast to finish the job of clearing the ice. Calvin came out a few minutes later, ready to skate. I helped him get his new, big (my size) hockey skates on and soon he was out on the ice. His technique leans more towards speed and imbalance than grace and fluidity, but he clearly enjoys skating. As soon as I finished my ice prep work, I went back to get my skates and joined him. I don't get a lot of time alone with Calvin these days, and when it involves a shared interest like skating we really have fun together. Although I like doing things with the whole family, sometimes we need a little one on one time.

We took a break for lunch, then we went back out, with the addition of Starflower, Mr. Attitude, and Sally. Sally looked a bit puzzled at first, thinking "I know this is where we went swimming when it was warmer... why can I walk on it now, and why am I sliding everywhere?"

Starflower and Mr. Attitude ended up not skating, but they still had fun. I hadn't gotten around to buying laces for Starflower's skates: when I bought them from the thrift store they were without laces. Still they were a bargain; like- new Riedell brand, probably $50 new, for $9. The skates I bought for Mr. Attitude turned out to be a bit too small, but I made a late afternoon run to the storage shed to fetch Calvin's old skates, which should fit him, and some laces for Starflower's. They'll be skating tomorrow. In the meantime, they had a good time pushing a lounge chair around on the ice.














This smile says it all.

We escaped with only a couple minor bruises and eggs on the head. Calvin probably took the worst hit to the head, and for a while I was concerned because he complained of a bad headache. But now he is playing video games, apparently back to normal, and even looking forward to skating tomorrow.

As for me, well, I love skating, but I spent most of the time just acclimating myself to the ice once more by taking long, slow strides. My style is the opposite of Calvin's; I pay attention to form. I did make the decision to retire my 25+ year old skates and search for something new; the leather around the ankles has creased and softened over the years to the point where the skates no longer offer good support. I wish I could find a pair like Starflower's for myself!

All in all, a good day, and I know I'll be feeling it tomorrow. And it was worth it.

pond work in progress

These strange windrows you see... Magnetic forces? Aliens?

No, it was me. After the kids and I arrived home early today, I got the strange notion to go out and clear off the pond. It was a great afternoon to be out, with the temperature finally about 20 degrees, little wind, and clear skies to show the last lingering sunlight.

My usual method is to shovel a path down the long side, then alternately shovel rows from each side of the path. That leaves me with what you see here, a bunch of narrow rows of snow on either side of the main path. The pattern, the repetition, the work...kind of a Zen thing...

Then I push these rows of snow closer and closer to the edge of the pond. By the time I called it a night in the fading twilight, all of the snow was probably within 8 feet from the edge of the pond. I intend to go out first thing in the morning, before the sun has a chance to crust these windrows over.

The ice beneath is the smoothest, clearest ice I have ever had the pleasure of shoveling the snow off of. (Grammar check please!) The snow was a light, fine crystalline powder, so it was easy to move it. Because of that, I cleared probably the largest total area I have ever done. Tomorrow's temps are forecast to top out above freezing, so it should be a great day for the first family skating outing of the year.

high-speed birding

I saw a Varied Thrush today. I think. I got to look at it for a nanosecond as my car rushed by, loaded with kids and dogs headed for work and school and daycare (where were the dogs headed? With me of course.) It was a darkish bird by the side of the road, but as we passed I saw it land on a tree branch and I distinctly remember seeing dull orange on the wings. I have seen enough of Robin and Roger's varied thrush pictures to make that click as a possibility in my mind. There is not another bird around here this time of year that would have that coloration. By the time I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop in the inch of packed snow on the road and backed up, it was gone. My kids, by the way, now are convinced I'm a wild and crazy birder. But they've seen it before. We made a stop for a suspected (and confirmed, in my mind) juvenile Golden eagle a few days ago.

Varied thrushes are a rare visitor in Minnesota, mostly hanging out on the West Coast at Robin and Roger's. But I have been following the birding listservs, and there are a few reports of errant Varied thrushes as close as sixty miles away. Stranger things have happened. There was a Painted bunting, a beautiful Florida/Texas native, at a bird feeder three miles from here a couple years ago. I have a copy of the video to prove it.

After doing daycare and school dropoffs, I was treated to the sight of a flock of several hundred snow buntings on a roadside. They scattered and flew up and drifted just like snowflakes. They are the snow; I don't think they were named just for their white color.

On the way away from work, which I left early to see Calvin's school Christmas program (yes, we're very un-PC around here, they even sang Christmas carols, and no one complained) I observed a hawk hovering and soaring above a patch of open grassland. On a whim, I pulled over to watch it; this was the same behavior I have seen over my swamp several times. I fumbled for my binoculars and found them in time to identify a Rough-legged hawk, our wonderful winter resident from far north. Their hovering, soaring flight is really a beauty to behold.

So many of my bird observations, it seems, happen from my car. Luckily the roads I drive are mostly lightly-traveled enough to allow me this pleasure.

Daisy's Thrift Store

Starflower coaxed me into a brief stop at the thrift store after her piano lesson this afternoon. I wasn't in the mood for it at first, but realized I wouldn't be out a whole lot of money if she or I found something irresistible. The asking price for most items is 25 cents. And, I had a few bags of stuff in the back of the car I needed to get rid of.

This store is run in a very small town by a corps of volunteers, mostly senior citizens from the Lutheran church. It is housed in another old church building long abandoned by another denomination. They recently built an addition, and today was my first time in the new space. Very nice, they now have the space to sort clothing and other items into "departments", and even arrange it attractively, like the more "upscale" thrift store I shop in the town where I work.

Over the past year, we have scored numerous bargains from this and the "upscale" thrift store. The Hermit has found both the kitchen sink, and a brand new in the box pedestal bathroom sink for the new house there. They charge a bit more for home furnishings, but it is still a bargain. There is also a like-new food processor I haven't found the time to play with, waiting in the cook shed. I don't buy new boots or ice skates for the kids until I check out the inventory at the thrift stores. Today I found Starflower a pair of Lacrosse winter boots, her size, nicely insulated and in good shape. In the next bin I noticed Starflower's and Mr. Attitude's boots from last year. I hope someone finds them useful.

One of the women volunteers who runs the store weaves nice area rugs from scrap fabric and sells them there. I am going to order a few rugs for the new house from her.

Since there is not a Wal Mart or other new clothing store nearby, this store serves a valuable purpose to the community, and the money they raise goes for good causes. I certainly enjoy shopping there more than at the maul.

fire karma, and other notes from the frozen North

One thing The Hermit is good for (one of several...er, many;) ) is starting a good roaring fire and keeping it burning overnight. Me, I have been way too timid in my fire efforts; for some reason I have this innate fear of fire (which is probably a healthy survival instinct) and I always have a tendence to start with too little. Too little paper, too little kindling, and I wonder why my flame languishes in a firebox amidst the cold downdrafts.

But lately, I have come to a quiet agreement with fire. I agree to lose some of my fear, and the fire agrees to provide what it can under what I give it. So now I can load the firebox with kindling, newspaper, and a couple fatwood sticks on a cold afternoon when the fire has long burned out, and it gives me good results. It is a good transformation for me, and I can't help but wonder if it doesn't have something to do with my recent commitment to learn and practice yoga. I definitely feel more focused lately.

Of course, my yoga studio leaves a lot to be desired. Usually the practice occurs some time between 6:30 and 7 in the morning, if I feel like it, before I have the unenviable task of rousing the youngsters, who have, as usual, been sharing the queen bed with me while The Hermit is away. I end up with about a foot on the edge, a corner of down comforter if I'm lucky, and a cat nearly ripping my eyelid off as it jumps up on my pillow. So waking up seems like a good option.

Then it's out to the main room, which if I've done a good job of fire tending, not sleeping on the job, is pleasantly warm. I throw a couple more logs on, get the coffee started, let the dogs out, feed the cats, brush my teeth, bring in another armload of wood, then maybe put on a yoga or Pilates DVD and attempt to follow along. In five minutes, I guarantee there is a dog intruding on my Downward-facing Dog, or a cat nuzzling up to my Cat position. Or there are two dogs playfully fighting on my precious floor space. Talk about finding inner peace.

But in spite of all that, I do think it has made some subtle, positive changes. Just gotta stick with it.

In other news, ice fishing season has begun in earnest. According to local reports there's 8-10 inches on most of the lakes, which means my pond has more than enough for good skating, if I can find my skates. Aww heck, I may be due for new ones, I've only had those for about 25 years.

I've been enjoying the low afternoon sunlight as I drive home an hour early (gotta pick up Attitude from daycare and get to the end of the driveway so the other two won't have to build character by walking all the way in from the road from the school bus--a considerable distance open to northwest winds). Eagle sightings have averaged about one a day, even a golden eagle a few days ago. Last night in the moonlight at 3:30 AM I counted five cottontail rabbits under my bird feeder, foraging for dropped seeds.

I have had two close deer encounters with my Chevy Astro van in the last two days. The first was near the kids' school, in an area with the unlikely combination of state park and strip convenience store/restaurant. The deer ran out in front of me with such speed I had little time to react, and touching the brakes on the slight layer of snow just put the anti lock brakes into effect, with little notceable deceleration. The deer somehow made it across in front of me with literally inches to spare, if that. Then tonight as I was driving the kids the six miles down a gravel country road to church, I suddenly saw a very young deer, barely bigger than a fawn, dart out on the road, stop, hesitate, confused, and run off into the ditch. It was so small; its life was spared tonight, but I wonder about its chances this winter.

So that's the news from Sand Creek. Off to toast my toes under a down comforter, shared with three kids and a dog. And maybe a cat or two.

How did they do it?

I grew up in the suburbs reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's "Little House" series. I started reading it a year or two before the watered-down version showed up on TV (although Michael Landon was good). I often dreamed of myself as a pioneer girl, living out on the prairie and growing a garden and running through the grasses and gathering wildflowers. My mom even made me a long dress with matching sunbonnet. I guess I can count myself lucky I still had a mom that knew how to sew.

I also read "The Long Winter". At the time I could not imagine a family living out a blizzard winter in a building with no insulation, with nothing but some begged and borrowed grain to eat, and furthermore, burning hay in the stove for heat, spending long hours twisting it into sticks so it would burn just a bit longer.

Of course the question never came up: just where and how did they go to the bathroom during the long winter?

Now that I've lived through a few winters under what most would call fairly primitive circumstances, (just see my post on outdoor showers for a primer) I am still amazed. Today we have all kinds of modern miracles like electricity, and generators if you're not hooked up to electric service (been there done that), and fiberglass insulation, asphalt shingles, EPA rated wood stoves, and the like. Today was cold, hardly rose above ten degrees with wind that bit like lightning, and all I wanted to do was stay inside by the wood stove fire. We hired the neighbors to tend the horses and chickens and sheep for the week while The Hermit is at a meeting; I could not imagine doing chores after work, in the dark and cold. But still I took the day off work, mostly to get the laundry done (laundromat) and keep the house warm.

I know Charles and Caroline Ingalls mostly didn't have 8 to 5 jobs to tend to in addition to maintaining the homestead; that cannot be done. But still I am in awe of the fact that they did it. That all of our ancestors did it, and only recently did we invent central heating and grocery stores with deli counters.

I'm in a survival mode here; for the next few days it will be driving kids to school and daycare, tending dogs at work, and worrying about coming home to a cold house, then starting a fire and cooking. I know, we should have purchased one of those oil-filled electric heaters to keep on safely while we're away. Hindsight is 20/20.

But still, my survival mode is wimpy compared to that of 100 years ago.

walking on water, and other things I did today

Frozen water, that is.It's been cold enough that when I walked out to get the mail, which is as far away from home as I went today, I dared to check the status of the ice by walking on it. To make sure, I took a broom and brushed off a bit of the snow covering near shore and looked at it and knocked on it. Solid, clear, and smooth, at least four inches if not more. Perfect, except it froze so fast that there's a huge crack running the length of the pond, with one of the sides about 1/4" above the other. My ice skates are still at the storage shed twenty miles away, along with some essential winter gear. Will be getting them tomorrow.

I would have shoveled off the dusting of snow this afternoon, but I don't think the temperature got above 15 degrees, and there was a strong west wind. It was a much better day for indoor activities, such as organizing and decluttering.

Note the neat piles of folded clothes, and the space in front of the bookshelf which wasn't there before. When you live in a small house, any bit of clutter, unnecessary stuff, or disarray makes it feel even smaller. I spend a lot of my time tending to these things, since oddly enough everyone else seems to tolerate it. If they only knew what inner peace the simple task of house cleaning brings! I know...dream on...

And Puffball on the computer chair: he looked so peaceful I just had to include him. Of course he knew that the chair was meant for human use, but he just looked at me smugly when I asked him to move. So I brought in another chair. Animals...

While running one armful of clutter out to the garbage and the tarp garage, I noticed a hawk soaring and hovering above the swamp beyond the garden. I had noticed one there a few days ago, doing the exact same thing. I went back to the house to grab the binoculars, and I watched it hover and soar, then another one joined it. Finally they both disappeared over the aspens across the swamp. I'm not sure what species they were; they almost looked like ospreys, although I don't think I've seen them here this time of year. An osprey would have reason to hover over the open, moving water of the creek, which is about where it was.
update- after reviewing two field guides, I think they were rough-legged hawks. An osprey here this time of year, away from big water, would be unlikely.

Later on I checked my home brew, which I had been concerned about because I didn't see carbon dioxide happily bubbling through the airlock. But after I transferred it to the glass carboy and set it up on the counter I immediately saw airlock activity. It looked and smelled about like a beer should at that point; actually I found myself inhaling the aroma of the sludge on the bottom of the brewing bucket after I transferred the beer. A fragrant mix of hops, yeast, coriander, and orange peel.

As I was reluctantly dumping the sludge behind a balsam on the edge of the yard, I noticed some activity on the forest floor about thirty feet away. I looked up, and there was a ruffed grouse, a bit agitated about my presence and showing the ruff of feathers around its neck, but not flying away. I stood still, it looked at me, made a slight clucking noise, and walked away slowly. Usually I don't get to see grouse that close for more than a split second before they take off in an explosive flurry of wingbeats.

I love how I don't have to go too far, or even do anything but my normal household activities, to see hawks, grouse, and all the other wonders that exist here.

the dark days

These are the dark days of the winter, that several weeks or so before solstice in which the darkness bears down with help from the cold. In three weeks the days will start to lengthen on the evening side, but it takes a while to feel it. No wonder people want to fend away the darkness with Christmas lights and such.

So I leave home at sunrise, and come home pretty much in the dark. I seek sunlight during the day, and find it during my noontime walk which I have been forcing myself to do. I walk out to the main street, across the river, then around our drainable ponds which are used for raising muskellunge. Today I scared two bald eagles from their perches in trees above the river. My blessing for the day.

It could be terrible weather by now, that would be normal, but other that a few nights around zero it hasn't been too bad. No ice storms or such. We have kept plenty warm with our wood stove.

I have started a new exercise routine. I wake up by 6:30, time to practice 20 minutes of yoga or Pilates. I checked out a couple tapes from the library, but today The Hermit surprised me with a 4 DVD set of yoga plus Pilates. I can't wait to watch them; there are beginner tapes, along with intermediate routines in each. Just what I need! And I should be ice skating before too long, and cross country skiing...time to work off all the damage that has been done. I have been way too inactive these last few years, and it shows.

In other news, I have been desperately placing the Bavarian Ale on top of the stove, in any place it will find warmth, just to get it going. I smelled it tonight, and it smelled nice and yeasty just as it should, it just has been a little slow in fermenting. I would bring it in the house, but with dogs/puppies...the airlocks would be knocked off in no time, especially in my space.

Which reminds me...the windows are coming the 13th. Nothing like getting stuff delivered in the dead of winter, but our carpenter says he works any day above ten degrees. Here's hoping for global warming...

But I like watching the feeder birds this time of year. Word is, there are a few errant Rosy Finches frequenting a feeder in Cloquet, just forty miles north of here. Nothing that unusual here, just the exuberant chickadees that make a Minnesota winter worthwhile.

Here's to the introspection that the dark days bring. May it be useful.