Lord's Lake

Sometimes a heavy grey sky says more about fall than a clear blue one.

Congratulations Twins...

...for a great season. You were in it to the end. And being beaten 0-1 in a one game playoff is nothing to be ashamed of. See you next year!

And thank you Joe Nathan for all the great saves. I wear #36 proudly!

My "Show Me The ATV Nature Writing Challenge"

I'm feeling feisty tonight. So I was just thinking, how many miles of trails and acres of land in our Minnesota State Forests are now open to all terrain vehicles, through a process that virtually ignored the input from wildlife and fisheries biologists?

And what chance does a walking ruffed grouse hunter have against those who pass him/her on a state forest trail on an ATV, leaving a cloud of smoke and a ruined day behind?

And how many of these ATV riders claim that "We enjoy getting out and seeing nature on our rides!"

So here is the challenge I have for you: Much of our nature writing heritage has come from people who have hiked and paddled the wilderness, developing a reverence and respect for the land in the silent moments of community. But if ATV riders get such a kick out of connecting with nature, should not some thought-provoking writing come out of those experiences as well? Would that not be some justification for the destruction of land that occurs when motorized recreation becomes the norm? Do ATV riders pause for contemplation as they roar through the old growth forest?

Please, anyone, if you have any links to nature writing by those who choose to experience nature in a gasoline powered off trail vehicle, especially in Minnesota, please let me know.

And by the way, this writing does not represent the opinion of any employer I may have at the present time. Really, it doesn't. Believe me.

P.S. Welcome ATV listservers! I understand you scour the Internet looking for anyone who may disagree with you, and then gang up on them. Well, sorry, that's not tolerated here. I have a thick skin, I can take it, but I will only keep comments that address what it is that I am asking for here, or that further an intelligent discourse. And, will one of you be so kind as to forward me the original message that was posted to your group? My address is on the sidebar. And by the way, you're making my blog a hotter commodity by boosting my hit count.

Cheers.

Drive-by birding, 9-30

When I leave work in the evening, there are very few things that would make me want to do a U-turn. Home is where the heart is, and my time is very precious there.

But today, I nearly screeched my brakes as I caught a spectacular sight in a hayfield.

I had never seen so many sandhill cranes in one place! Counting from the picture, there were close to forty of them.

I had thought the sandhills were long gone by now. Maybe these came from further north in Canada.

The leaves on the trees in the background are deceptively green; everywhere else the forest is now aglow with orange and scarlet, crimson and yellow.

Life is sweet. And sad. And lovely. And uneasy.

Tonight was the kind of warm September evening you just want to sit out on the steps with a beer and watch the light change in the tops of the pine trees.

I am sad for the loss of a kitten, and sadder that I perhaps could have prevented it. And perplexed that, while we have a multitude of cats and kittens here, I suddenly don't want them, at least most of them. A few have won their way into my heart. Whiter Biter is on my lap right now, impairing my blogging process with his kisses.

I wanted to go to a concert tonight, to see one of my favorite bands, Vasen (imagine two little dots above the "a", I don't know how to make them), all the way from Sweden. But I just could not make that long drive to the city for a couple hours of music. So maybe I'll make my own music in a little while.

I won't be watching the Presidential debate tonight. There are more upbeat things to watch (Twins vs. Royals, although after last night I'm not sure if I'm ready for another whole game!), and anyway I've decided in my heart which candidate I think holds more hope for a troubled nation, so I would be watching maliciously, looking for every fault in the other candidate. And perhaps I don't want to watch because I can't stand the idea that the future of our nation is at stake, and sometimes I just want to dissociate myself from civilization.

But then, as I was driving to work, I found a flock of ravens and two young eagles that took my breath away with their flight. I am beholden to them, for making me realize there is joy in spite of everything else.

So there I am. Hopefully there will be much house blogging this weekend. Have a great one, everyone.

So. freaking. sweet!

The Twins. swept. the Chicago White Sox.

Half. game. ahead.

Amazing!

The famous Hermit, and his famous dog

I didn't want to let the cat out of the bag, but Sunday morning The Hermit had a visit with Doug Smith, outdoors reporter for the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Today there was a full page feature article on The Hermit, including pictures with Hope the hyper idiot Brittany whom I guess is a pretty good bird dog after all. The article focuses on The Hermit's work as a ruffed grouse biologist, and can be found here. Congratulations Hermit!

new house kitty

We had a good year for kittens around here. Too good. So good, I'll have to find homes for a few of them. But this lucky kitty does not need to worry; its new home will be with us, in the house, as soon as it's ready. Cuteness has its advantages. May I present to you... "Evil Junior".

How could something so cute and innocent be called Evil? We're trying to think of a better name (suggestions are welcome), but this kitty is the newest offspring of the matriarch of the whole kitty clan around here, a tenacious old feline we have dubbed "Evil Calico". EC is not cuddly, not nice, barely even approachable. But she certainly possesses cat wisdom, and in a strange way I admire her for it. She had not had any kittens for a while, and I did not know she had had a litter this year until suddenly one day I saw this little calico crawl out from under the cook shed. "Oh my, it's Evil Junior!" I exclaimed. The name has stuck, so far.

If you have been a longtime reader you may recall I had another house cat, a part flame point Siamese. For all I know I may still have it, but Blue Flame has been missing for a week now. He got out of the cabin one day, and must have had a bit of wanderlust. Unfortunately, Blue Flame is not blessed with much feline wisdom, or strength or agility, and there are predators around here.

I feel like I should be more bothered by Blue Flame's absence, but I must admit, for all his Siameseness, I was never particularly attached to him. His father was presumably Puffball, whom I still miss. But Blue Flame never filled Puffball's place. He just didn't have much personality. So whatever will be will be. And I still have Whiter Biter, who definitely has personality, even if he likes to wander around outside.

Evil Junior is not quite ready to be alone in the new house, and I need to take her to the vet and take care of the conjunctivitis that every kitten seems to have at one point or another, but she seems to know already that she is "The Chosen One".

Sad update: I hate to have to write this. We lost Evil Junior this morning. I totally take responsibility; there are just too many dangers outside and I should have brought her inside to keep her safe.

I'm through with outdoor cats.

basil harvest

It is one of those achingly beautiful September days where you never want autumn to end. The day is sunny and warm, but you are reminded of the chill in the air last night and the fire in the wood stove that felt just right.

I have not gone more than a mile away from this place this weekend. I could have, but sometimes it just feels good to stay close to home and get things done. I organized the garage on Saturday and hauled a bunch of plastic storage bins in to the new house where they will stay, full of winter jackets and clothes and books.

Today I washed dishes, then decided to cut the stems of cinnamon and lime basil before frost got to them. They smelled so good I decided to dry them in the new house on this antique dresser we bought second or third or fourth hand. We now have several such dressers, courtesy of Craigslist. Then I cut the tops off the garlic cloves and put them up in the cook shed. I don't think I have as big of a harvest this year as last year, and I will have to order garlic to plant.

My tomatoes are still ripening on their own schedule, half of them cracked and rotten by the time they ripen. One of these years...But at least I have garlic, and onions, and carrots and turnips. Anyone know any delicious turnip recipes?

We got skunked last night. I heard something scratching around outside, and this morning our yard is aromatic. The Hermit saw a dead skunk on the road near our driveway; I wonder if it was the one.

I think I'll put a spaghetti squash in the oven to cook for dinner. I didn't grow it, and I've never had it, but I just want to try it out in case I might want to grow it next year. Or try growing it, anyway.

I'm a fool for baseball

The Twins just beat the Tampa Bay Rays, I think the final score was 11-8. I think my kids were kind of embarrassed as I jumped and shouted during the top of the 9th inning, when the Twins pulled ahead, and the bottom of the 9th inning, when my hero Joe Nathan was pitching. I think I made a scene of myself. I didn't even notice when Sally ripped my boxer shorts. Oh well, Nathan is worth it. And so is the rest of the team. They'll just keep pushing for the title until the end.

sleeping arrangements

It has been an interesting few nights here, since I woke up Sunday morning nearly on the floor. Our king size air mattress had somehow sprung leaks in both sides in the middle of the night. The Hermit went to sleep on the futon; I used up the rest of the air to keep myself afloat until morning. Sunday morning I spent some time trying to locate the problem(s), and sealed up what I thought were all of the holes.

Sunday night = more deflation. First it was just one side (the bed has two air chambers that can be unzipped for twin beds), so I moved around to the good side while the Hermit again went downstairs to the futon. About two hours later, I gradually gained consciousness in the midst of one of my lucid verbal dreams; a state where I have all kinds of prose, poetry, and even song lyrics flying through my head. It's a trip, I tell you. I just wish I could write some of the stuff down. No I don't; I'd just scare myself. Anyway, I was on the floor. Again. I laid there in a stupor for a while, trying to figure things out, then I headed downstairs to give Calvin's new recliner a try. The Hermit had gotten it on Craigslist, along with two twin beds. I could not get the recliner to recline as much as I wanted, so finally we folded out the futon. I finished the full moon night in a fitful sleep full of more dreams, more vivid action (think a cheap action thriller movie), less verbal. Still a trip.

We had every good intention of finally moving our queen mattress over and getting our bed set up, but face it, Monday and Tuesday evenings both of us were pretty wiped out tired. The Hermit slept in Mr. Attitude's bed, I slept on the futon with Mr. Attitude, and even Calvin last night. Talk about a future Oedipus complex...anyway, I decided the futon is good for one night, then the novelty wears off and you realize you are indeed sleeping on about two inches of stuffing that cushions you a little. My back and arms ache. And those stupid dreams...maybe it's the full moon...

So imagine my joy when I arrived home tonight and found our bed, completely set up with mattress, in Mr. Attitude's upstairs bedroom. I will sleep well tonight, hopefully without dreams, or at least with ones that don't leave me waking up in terror or mental confusion.

Moving in is such a trip!

autumn impressions

The sun is rising perceptibly later each day as the last days of summer give way to autumn. The fog that shrouded the full moon all night softens the early morning landscape.

Birches started giving up yellow leaves some time in the last week or two; now the maples flash scarlet here and there, a preview, a teaser.

In the road ditches, ferns stand crumpled and brown from frost. Goldenrods and blazing star are a whispered hush of their former hues, while asters give one last show of white and blue and purple.

The skies are full of activity as migrant birds make their way south. Among the golden leaves of the birch outside my window, warblers blend in with their muted yellows as they glean insects. Raucous threads of Canada geese ripple through the air. Sandhill cranes trumpet in their ancient voice, unseen as they soar with the thermals or rest and feed in fields.

Days fly by as I go about my human activities. I just want to pause, to gather in every moment of a golden September day so I can feel the warmth on my face on some gray winter day.

Blogger visit #4 to Sand Creek

I have had the pleasure of having three bloggers visit me here at Sand Creek this past year: Lynne and RuthieJ (who arrived on the same day in February), and Heidi (who only lives less than five miles away, and whom I had the pleasure to see the other day with her beautiful family at the organic store in town). Today I was thrilled to add a fourth blogger to this life list of sorts.

Greg, aka the dharma bum, from The Dharma Blog, was perhaps the first Minnesota blogger I started following on a regular basis. His tales of fly fishing and canoe paddling and life are always well written and leave me with a longing for adventure. He has been a regular commenter here since the first year I started blogging, and I am going on four years now.

Greg e-mailed me earlier this week, saying he had a job-related retreat at the Audubon Center of the North Woods this weekend, and could he perhaps stop by afterwards on Sunday afternoon? Sand Creek is within thirty miles of the center. Why yes, of course! Although I'm not exactly a social butterfly, I enjoy visitors here, especially ones I feel I already know through heartfelt blog posts and comments.

On this rainy afternoon, our land still draining from an inch of rain yesterday, Greg parked his car out front, not wanting to risk the ominous looking puddles that loomed in the drive to the house. I don't blame him. I met him halfway on the driveway, and it was like greeting an old friend. I showed him around, and we had a beer and chatted, along with The Hermit, around the (unlit) wood stove. If it hadn't been raining, I had planned on maybe a walk out to the pond, to Sand Creek, to all the places that I have blogged about. But just talking was enjoyable enough for today.

I am always amazed at the connections I have made through blogging, across the country, around the world. Yes, it is sometimes awkward when you meet a blogger in real life, because somehow you feel you know them already, so there's this introductory chitchat that does not need to happen, but yet you need to fill in a few details. And hopefully you come away with a real life connection. And we all need as many friends as we can get. Thanks Greg, friend, for driving out of your way to my little corner of the world today.

cosmic rewards

So I haven't been too excited about running lately. Especially during the week when I have to get the kids to the bus, which has thankfully been coming later, about 6:40 instead of 6:32. We are on the far end of a long bus route. Add to that the fact that the days are getting shorter, and in two weeks I will be driving the kids out to the end of the driveway in the dark.

But today after the kids got on the bus, I went for a run. I have to keep reminding myself: Fifteen pounds! And there's more where that came from! Really, otherwise I'm just torturing myself.

Anyway, after I ran to the end of the road and back, 1.2 miles, I got into my car, which was at the end of the driveway on account of bringing the kids out there for the bus. I turned the key, and a very familiar song came on over the stereo. It was Sam Bush's 9 minute live version of "Same Old River", the one that features solos by Bela Fleck and Jerry Douglas. One of my absolute favorite recordings ever. And it was on the radio, not on the CD, which I did happen to have in my car. Sweet! I got in the car just after Jerry Douglas tore it up on a solo and just before Sam Bush proved why he is the King of Newgrass with a huge mandolin solo.

I consider this a musical blessing, a sign that I did the right thing by running this morning.

And, I will be calling in a pledge to this radio station, the only station I can count on to play the music I like!

Azamat the Toad

Biggest. toad. ever.

(so much for an enlightened, thoughtfully written post!)

Deb's decision

I decided today that I am not a fisheries biologist. I am a writer.

From my childhood, I have always shown a talent and interest in writing. I was published at age eight, without my permission, when my grandma sent a few of my Haiku poems, which I had scribbled on a tablet, to The Lutheran Digest.

Sunset brings evening
Small stars twinkle in the night
Country rests in peace

In fifth grade, we had a substitute one day. She assigned us to write a poem about fall. Here was my response:

Autumn Song

The wind is the conductor
The fiddles are the leaves
Bright tubas are the wheat heads
Tied in golden sheaves

An oak tree and its leaves above
are one great big bassoon
Pumpkins are the kettle drums
The color of the moon

And in the great big sky above
the great big fields of corn
the moon, it plays its own sweet notes
just like a big French horn

It was the best poem I've ever written. I went on to write A-earning essays in college, though I majored in biology, which required little in the way of writing. If I had it to do over, I would have been an English major. But is it too late to change course?

I think not. I intend to devote every moment of my spare time to becoming the writer and musician I know I am. I have even set a goal of making a career change within five years. My current career, with all of its amenities, does not satisfy my soul. I need to do more than just count fish and plants.

I had one encouraging message that helped me in this decision. Joy, my high school classmate, valedictorian, yearbook editor and sister in law to my best friend in high school, contacted me recently through LinkedIn, a networking site. She said she reads my blog occasionally and thinks I'm an excellent writer. Wow! Thanks Joy, I'm a junkie for stuff like that. :)

So, expect to see more thoughtful writing here in the future. I've lapsed at that, while we've been devoting our energies into house finishing and all.

the culprit

This is the guy that stung me. Anyone have any ideas as to identity? Sorry about the blurriness; I'm really beginning to dislike my Canon Powershot A520's macro focus. Or could it be user error? Naahhh...

Update: Why didn't I think of Googling before I posted, rather than after? It appears to be an Io moth, and now I realize I have seen many adults on my cook shed screen door this summer.

beware of caterpillar

Now here's something totally unexpected- I was stung by a caterpillar today. Really, it was as bad as any bee sting I've ever had. I didn't even know we had stinging caterpillars here in Minnesota.

I was harvesting my onions, in a bed that I had let get pretty weedy. In fact, my whole garden is like that this year. I spent too much time on other stuff, like laying slate tile and nailing floors I guess. But still I had a good crop of onions, even if it was hard to find them amongst the clover and sorrel. I would plunge my hand into the weeds until I found an onion top somewhere. In the midst of doing this I suddenly felt as if I had brushed against a thistle or something sharp on my left ring finger. I peered into the bed; no thistles. I felt a burning, stinging sensation growing in my finger. I looked again, and there was this bristly looking caterpillar hanging on some clover.

At this point I would normally show a photo, and I did take several, but I think my camera's USB cable is kaput. I tried to download a picture for last night's post, but it didn't work.

Luckily I am not deathly allergic to insect stings, although I guess a reaction can develop at any time in one's life so any sting should be a cause for concern. I put some Benadryl gel on the sting, which was visible as a few raised white patches on my finger. Later I noticed all of my fingers were kind of puffy, so I wondered if that wasn't part of the reaction. I took a Benadryl capsule and went out to dig potatoes. Halfway through digging I started feeling the spaced out buzz, and it's a wonder that I finished the job and hauled in maybe 50 pounds of potatoes. Oh, right, you're not supposed to drink a beer when you're on Benadryl.

I did get in a decent harvest of onions and potatoes, and I even discovered a pepper plant loaded with long skinny green peppers. Now if I could only remember what kind of peppers I planted. I'm terrible that way, I'll even have to go back through my email and find my potato order to see which kind of red potato it was that produced more than any other potato, and find out what kind of yellow potato not to order next year because I like my potatoes bigger than golf balls.

Housewarming

Tonight, for the first time, we lit a fire in the new wood stove in the new house. This is a huge moment. Somehow, a house isn't a home without a hearth, especially around here where we'll be heating for half the year. It was a thrill to see the smoke rising out of the chimney.

The Hermit has been wheeling and dealing on Craigslist, and managed to trade a huge pile of foam board insulation that we didn't need, for three cords of oak wood, which we do need. Combined with the four cords of mixed hardwoods we bought locally, and the approximate two cords we have on hand after we started heating with propane last year, we should be all set to heat through the winter.

There is something so genuine about heating with wood. I appreciated the ease of the propane heater last winter, but there is nothing like radiant wood heat. Our new house is designed around the wood stove as central heating source, which I suspect will serve us nicely in the future. I can even cook on it if I have to.

In other news, I saw two things that made me gasp in awe on my way to work this morning. One was a buck white tailed deer; I saw the sunlight glisten through the velvet on his antlers. He had to be at least eight or ten points, as if I had to reduce his rack to a score. Anyway, he was magnificent in the morning sunlight, and the biggest buck I've ever seen. The other was an eagle, swooping down to try to get some roadkill on the Kettle River bridge. It flew about twenty feet above my car. Awesome.

ready for fall...and not ready

We had our wood stove installed today! It's a Lopi Liberty, best indoor wood stove around. So even if the rest of the house is not finished, at least we have a heat source, which is important when you live around here.

And here is an impressive cloud I saw yesterday. The rain from it just barely grazed us, I guess, but the night before we were doused with two inches. I'm happy, the garden is happy. We have some warm weather in the forecast, so maybe my tomatoes will finally ripen.

The kids and I did the annual ritual of school shopping today while the stove was being installed. Wow. I didn't know three shirts and three pairs of jeans apiece could cost so much! We didn't even get around to the notebooks and pencils and such; a morning at the mall is enough for me.

My dad is coming tomorrow to stay overnight. I'm excited; he hasn't been here for a few years now and I'm anxious to show him our house and all we've done.

It just seems there is so much more I want to say, and so much I cannot find words for. This summer has just passed me by, and we have worked so hard in preparing our house, moved in bit by bit (just moved my glider rocker to the new hearth today), meanwhile the kids have just kept growing up in so many ways, and I have rediscovered running and lost over fifteen pounds in the process. My garden, though neglected, has done as well as can be expected; I had a great garlic and onion harvest as usual. And the nighthawk migration the last couple of days has been spectacular.

Can summer really be over this weekend? I plan to spend some time at the pond playing Retrieving Olympics with Sally (Calvin and I invented this; she is scored on her moves as she retrieves sticks thrown into the pond) and picking up my dusty musical instruments once more. And, when I am ready to write, I'll share it all with you.

Just to keep up with baseball

We now subscribe to Major League Baseball on DirectTv. And The Hermit just bought Calvin ESPN's Encyclopedia of Major Leage Baseball. Not that Calvin isn't already a walking baseball encyclopedia himself. This will just enhance his knowledge...

Move over, Embarrass, I've got weather for you!

The short story: we had frost last night. The solidified dew on my car that I felt at about 6:30 confirms it, along with the frost-burned squash leaves in the garden. Luckily, most of the garden survived with no apparent damage, thanks to our diligent covering.

We were not under a freeze warning last night, or even a frost advisory. The frost advisory was one county to the north. But I knew better.

The temperature on our pessimistic thermometer read 28 or so. Brrr! The official low temperature at Embarrass, the cold weather capital of Minnesota, was 27. They made news headlines for it, with the qualification that "this is very unusual weather for here!"

Hmmmm? I believe that in at least three out of the four last summers here we have had a killing frost in August, if not July. At any rate, the garden has been pretty much toast by mid September. So, unusual?

I think this is a very local thing. We're in a bit of a low area. Heidi, how did your garden fare?

oh for goodness snakes

Starflower and Mr. Attitude found not one but two baby garter snakes under an overturned canoe by the pond this afternoon!

They sure are cute. I told the kids they could keep them in a bucket for a while, but release them tonight near where they found them so they could find food and shelter and just be snakes.

And while I'm posting, and I have been really lazy about that now haven't I? here's a shot of my much neglected garden. I picked about three ice cream buckets of green beans today, best harvest of those ever. But why the shrouds you ask?

We had a touch of frost two weeks ago, the night of the bat. Tonight the National Weather Service has actually put out a freeze warning for some areas north of here, towards the Canadian border, and a frost advisory for other places including the county just to the north of here. The predicted low for here is 38 degrees, which means more than likely we will have frost. Sigh. Can't I just make it into September for once? Covering the garden is a real pain in the butt.

***LATE NEWS FLASH*** Starflower and Mr. Attitude just came back from their evening swim, with one baby painted turtle, which we put into our aquarium. Never mind the outside temp was about 58 degrees at the time of their swim. I'm in my flannel jammie pants and sweatshirt already.

the living room

We finally have a room. A finished ROOM! I took the day off on Monday, hoping to grout the slate floor by the hearth, but I ended up going to our storage shed with The Hermit and getting that comfy green chair and that beautiful Mission style coffee table, and a few framed art prints and such.

Every time I go out there, I just want to sink into whatever piece of furniture I am on, and and just relax. But the TV will be in that empty corner on Friday, so I suppose I won't have too much time for relaxing. Except for Twins games. :)

take me out to the ball game

Guess where I was yesterday? If you know me, you probably would not believe that I was part of a crowd of 35,000+ at the Metrodome in Minneapolis, cheering on the Twins as they swept a series with the Seattle Mariners. I drove Calvin and his friend 100+ miles so Calvin could experience his first ever major league baseball game. We were going to go as a family but we thought with Calvin's friend the SUV would be kind of crowded, not to mention the expense. We've got a family date planned at the ball park the last weekend in September.

To say Calvin had a great time would be a major understatement. He told me, "Mom, this is one of the best days of my life!" But the big surprise of the day was...I had a great time too. More fun than I ever thought I could have under the same roof with 35,000 other people. I really got into the game, and it was exciting enough to keep me interested, and in the middle of the 8th inning, in a tough situation, they brought in my favorite closing pitcher who saved the day. Calvin got his #7 Joe Mauer T shirt, I got my #36 Joe Nathan shirt. I've crossed some line somewhere...now I can truly call myself a baseball fan.

I nailed it, and a bat story

We installed locally harvested and sawed pine flooring in two rooms on Sunday. We are fortunate to have a source for this flooring, which turned out to be cheaper than just about any other option, and very good looking as well.

In case you're wondering, they still do make square cut nails. If you need a source, you should be able to read the Web sites in the otherwise very traditional looking nail box above.

We went through two boxes of these nails on Sunday. Chris and I were the nailers, while The Hermit and Calvin sawed floorboards to the proper length. Since these were old fashioned nails we were using, there was no chance of using an automatic nailer to do the job. Every one of those ten pounds of nails had to be driven in by hand. I have the blisters and sore knees to prove it.

Here is Calvin's room, just a layer of floor finish away from moving in! I think the flooring has so much character, especially the rows of nails. I'll remember every one.

And here's an update on the exterior stain. It's coming along, and it's time for scaffolding to finish the rest.

We've been sleeping beneath that upper window for nearly a month now, on king sized air mattresses. It's been comfortable and restful, mostly, except for Sunday night. I was tired from seven hours of floor nailing, and after dinner I wanted to head straight to my bed in the loft. But as I settled in I noticed the fluttering of wings near the balcony. BAT!!! Great. I was tired, getting cranky, and I knew it would be difficult if not impossible to remove a bat from the house, and sleeping with a bat indoors was not an option. I ran to the backyard of the cabin to fetch a tennis racket, always a good bat weapon.

Alas, a tennis racket is no match for a bat in a house with a cathedral (or at least Minnesota Lutheran church) ceiling. There is too much high, open space. After fetching a second weapon, a twelve foot stepladder which at this point I have no idea HOW I managed to get in the house, The Hermit presented a third weapon: a long 1 x 6 board. The bat was perched high up on a window frame, and somehow I managed to pin it against the frame with the board. I pushed as hard as I could. I hope you realize, bad as I feel about it, there was no way I could get this creature removed from the house alive.

I felt a slight crunching, then somehow the bat managed to escape and fly across the house into the bedroom. The place we sleep. I saw it go down. Starflower and Mr. Attitude were in one bed, with the covers over their heads as I had frantically instructed them. I walked across to the bedroom, searched the floor for about five minutes, when I heard a scream from Starflower:

"It's HERE! In our bed!"

I looked, and sure enough there it was, not moving much but definitely in their bed. The tennis racket was within reach so I grabbed it, swept the bat onto the floor, and proceeded to crush the remaining life out of it. The Hermit took it away in a rag. It looked so small, so harmless. I felt bad for killing it, but I know they often carry rabies and I just can't abide with flying creatures in my sleeping space.

I'm done with my big project at work. I'll try to post the highlights tomorrow.

not around to blog much lately

I apologize that I have not been keeping up with posting, or replying to comments, or leaving comments on the blogs I read often. I have unexpectedly been more or less the leader on a very challenging project at work lately, which has stretched out to nearly two weeks of work, and I have been pretty exhausted when I come home at night. Not that driving a boat around is that bad, but I guess it's that I'm too much of a perfectionist, or that I have years' more experience and do so much better at whatever job I'm called to do that I can't stand the gross incompetence of coworkers, or their second-guessing MY knowledgeable decisions. Or maybe I just don't like pulling dead fish out of nets and wrestling 20 pound snapping turtles any more. 'Nuff said. It will all be over on Thursday, and I plan to drink a beer or two to that. :)

And, my body has been recuperating from a longer-than-ever run Sunday morning, followed by seven hours of nailing pine flooring. Everything hurts now. But the floor looks nice. Pictures to follow soon.

a milestone

Why The Hermit and I make a good couple

Tonight I got home late from work, and we were making dinner together, we had decided on grilled Italian sausages with fried onions and green peppers, one of my favorites. We were listening to music, as usual, this time The Be Good Tanyas' "Chinatown", which was a pleasant surprise I found at the local library. I have been listening to this album on the way to and from work, letting it grow on me and become one of my favorites, and as I was listening to one of the songs there in the cook shed I remarked, totally off the top of my head: "They sound like a more folky, all female version of the Cowboy Junkies."

The Hermit replied, without a moment's hesitation: "That's exactly what I was thinking!"

I could tell he was sincerely thinking that, not just saying it, after all after sixteen years of marriage I think you can read each other.

Believe me, we are not on the same wavelength a lot of the time, but those times we are are oh so sweet. :)

centered

That's how I'm feeling these days. It's hard to describe, but I'm feeling a sense of purpose and inner calm that I have not felt in a long time. Maybe it's realizing we are finally achieving the house building goal we set out to accomplish five years ago. Maybe it's the running. Maybe it's my half hearted attempts at yoga, which are improving since I checked out Yoga for Dummies at the library. Really, it's the most concise, readable introduction to yoga that I've ever seen. So I'm a dummy after all, and you know what? I'm okay with that.

We have two rooms wired and connected in the new house now, not to mention the walls are done and painted, and the pine flooring was delivered Friday. As soon as our nails arrive, we will have two rooms FINISHED. As in, ready to LIVE in. We have been sleeping in an unfinished loft bedroom for weeks now, so technically we're already living in the new house, but these rooms will be done!

One of the rooms is Calvin's first story bedroom, which he chose to have painted in "1976 Minnesota Twins uniform" blue. He has gotten to be quite the Twins fan and baseball scholar this year; he even wants a baseball glove chair for the room. I guess they make those somewhere.

Last night we took time out from house finishing to pack up the kids and drive to the 7th annual Highway 61 Folks Festival in Mahtowa, about a 45 minute drive. I may have previously mentioned that one of my favorite bands that just happens to be local are The Hobo Nephews of Uncle Frank. They were playing from 6-8 pm, just the kind of hours we appreciate these days; we didn't have to stay out past our bedtime to see them!

This little festival, which is getting bigger and better each year, has a great vibe to it. It is very family friendly, meaning we can bring the kids and set them loose and not have to worry about anything more than them getting sick on the merry go round in the town park. Which they did, at least Calvin could not keep down the bratwurst and Mountain Dew he had for dinner. Nuff said, at least we had an empty box handy in the Mazda. "If you're going to spew, spew in this!"

And they had Boulevard Wheat beer on tap. My favorite wheat beer! The Hermit and I enjoyed a few while we listened to the Hobo Nephews, who were laid back and cool as always. My favorite part was when they played Greg Brown's "Laughing River". I mean, here is my favorite live band outside of Greg Brown himself, singing one of Greg's coolest songs ever! The evening sun was shining, it was perfectly warm with a light breeze, people were happy and relaxed and taking it all in, and we even ran into a few people we knew.

After an evening like that, even if we did get home before 10, I thought for sure I would forgo my morning run. However, my conscience would not allow me such a luxury and I ended up having my best run ever, at least since I started running again. I ran all the way to the end of the road, over a half mile, without stopping even though there is a hill at the end. Then I took minimal breaks on my way back, and I felt exhausted in a good way when I returned home.

Today has been quiet, the afternoon punctuated by an occasional thunderstorm. I was going to grout my slate floor, but with the rain and all I lost my motivation and ended up playing bouzouki for a while. Not a bad thing to do, I guess. I think I'll go play some more, it looks like rain again.

catnip gone wild

Behind that beautiful bee balm, which was invited and welcomed into my rock garden, are the biggest catnip plants I have ever seen. I did not plant them. I thought I had carefully cut the flower heads from the catnip I did plant last year so it wouldn't re-seed, but I have learned my lesson: If you must plant catnip, do so in containers, the further away from your garden the better.

By the way, that tall thing behind the catnip is stinging nettle, which has somehow managed to take over part of my garden. Amazingly I've seen it in seed catalogs. Why would anyone deliberately plant something that will cause immediate agony if it is brushed against? I know, the new greens are tasty and loaded with nutrients when cooked, and some folks swear by the tea made from dried leaves as a "tonic". I even make a "stinking nettle tea" that works wonders in the garden. But when it gets to this stage, I need full body armor to deal with it.

I removed the catnip today to make more room for the bee balm and various herbs on the other side of it, and to try and keep it from re-seeding next year. I did harvest catnip leaves until I had a bowl full, to dry for cat treats and a calming tea. I tossed a few of the leaves to the usual bunch of cats hanging around, and they were indifferent. Perhaps they are unaware of the street value of my harvest to all the true catnip junkies out there.

future catnip junkie

indigo

This evening an ordinary moment turned into something special.

The Hermit and I were sitting in the family room in the new house, sipping a beer and enjoying the cool breeze that had come in the evening to take the edge off a hot day. (85 is hot? We have not seen 90 this year! I love it!) I had my binoculars with me, determined to get a good look at all the little brown birds I see through the patio door while we sit there.

A flutter of movement caught my attention, in the grasses beyond the garden, and I focused the binoculars. There, in plain view, was a little bird that was definitely NOT brown. It was a beautiful shade of blue all over, kind of like our new roof. Indigo bunting! I watched it for about ten minutes as it swooped among the grasses, probably foraging for insects.

Duty called, and I went in to get our Sams Club frozen lasagna out of the oven and to get some water for the chicks. As I was carrying water and food out to our future egg producers, I saw Indigo again, in my little overgrown wildflower garden! Twice in one day! Sweet!

Winterwoman had a post recently about how blue birds aren't really blue. Yeah, light refraction and all that. Still, the prettiest birds I've ever seen are blue, refraction or not.

Sand Creek meets Hasty Brook

I suppose I could theoretically get to Hasty Brook from here by water. All I would have to do would be to paddle down Sand Creek to the St. Croix River, about fifty river miles, then cruise down the St. Croix to Hastings, MN, where it meets up with the mighty Mississippi, then paddle upstream, through several locks and dams and then over a hundred river miles to where the Prairie River meets the Mississippi, then it would be just a short paddle upstream and across Prairie Lake to the inlet of Hasty Brook, then upstream just a short distance.

Of course, it's easiest to just log on to the virtual Hasty Brook. But yesterday I decided it was time to take a drive and see Hasty Brook, and Lynne and her family, in person. It's just under sixty miles from my place, about an hour's drive across a mix of hayfields, aspen woods, and tamarack bogs. The drive went quickly, and with Lynne's able directions I easily found out that Hasty Brook is indeed a real, wonderful place.

When Starflower and I arrived, Lynne and her husband Art had just left to drive to Cloquet, but their teenage daughter greeted us and contacted them by cell phone; they couldn't have been more than a few miles away because they turned around and arrived quickly.

What a fun, relaxing visit. We lounged in chairs, chatting while we watched pine siskins and chipmunks at the bird feeders. Lynne had put out a hummingbird feeder, and we were delighted to see that the hummingbirds had found it. Starflower told Lynne about our rabbits, and they compared rabbit stories. We went for a short walk, going up the driveway to the road where there were fewer mosquitoes and deerflies, and walked to where a bridge crosses Hasty Brook.

Now I know why Lynne is so in love with this place. It reminded me of what our Sand Creek cabin was like before it was home, when we used to live seventy miles away on the outskirts of the city in a subdivision. It was our refuge, and Hasty Brook is a beautiful, quiet refuge. Thanks Lynne, for the directions! I'll stop by again sometime!

new bird of the day

My job today was to drive a boat around the shoreline of a large, wonderfully clear lake and map and identify the emergent vegetation. All this in partly cloudy, 80 degree weather. Not a bad gig if you can get it. Even if you have to work with the intern. (No really, he's a great guy, I just don't like having "teaching others what their future job may entail" as part of my own job description, for more than a day or two. That's just how I am. Oh well.)

In the process, we encountered this bird, and I happened to have my camera ready! How often does that happen? I knew right away it wasn't one of the usual ring billed gulls, but my mistake was thinking it was still a gull. After getting back to the office, and comparing the picture to my Sibley's guide, it turned out to be...a Forster's tern, adult non-breeding plumage. I don't think they occur around here, in late July, too often. Anyway, it was maybe a first for me and a great chance to show the intern about looking at the whole picture. I don't know anyone else around my office who takes the time to identify birds.

the fireweed days of summer

First of all, thank you Richard, for showing me how to make big pictures!

I can tell the time of summer here by the roadside flowers. The buttercups and trillium are long gone, being May residents: lupines, if any, passed by in June. Ox eye daisies and black eyed Susan started making their appearance in late June. I saw my first Turks cap lily a few days ago. And these seasonal beauties have been painting roadsides for the last week or so. Fireweed is named for its propensity to bloom in recently burned-over areas. As far as I know, no fires have occurred recently around here, but yet here and there I find a patch of these Primrose family relatives.

I spotted this beauty first opening up on my morning run a week ago, and returned with camera yesterday to photograph it while I was taking a short walking break. I have been running nearly every morning for four weeks now, and I have noticed some subtle differences. I no longer labor to run nearly half a mile, like I did when I started. I have added a bit of distance to my routine, and even some hills. I was hoping to see some weight loss, but the scale needle has not been showing a major downward trend, although it has not been approaching former high weights so that is good. I think I'm building muscle, which weighs more than fat, because I definitely feel slimmer.

I had to take a break today, although it was surprisingly hard to do so. The outer sides of my ankles have been hurting since yesterday, enough to, along with my plantar fasciitis, make it uncomfortable to walk or run anywhere. So I thought it was maybe just muscle fatigue from adding distance to my routine lately. At least I hope so. I'll try again tomorrow.

baseball day

I did my motherly duty today, on a day I took off from work. I rode the team bus to Pine City, a good 40 miles away from our house, to watch the last day of Little League play. The kids work hard; they play three games from 9 till noon with hardly any break in between. Today was the playoffs, as if in three games they could determine a league champion. I think all the kids are champions for their dedication to the game. Each play is a learning experience.

Calvin made some memorable plays in left field, never letting the ball get by him. And, in the third game, he hit a strong double out into center field and had an unexpected RBI when an anticipated power hit turned into a quasi-bunt which got him on base and scored a runner.

I don't know if I could have done this every Friday of the season. It's a long time to sit outside, and the noise and people got to me. There are eight teams from seven towns, in a cloverleaf of four fields. But it's great to see the determination in those young mens' eyes as they play the best sport in America. God bless Little League baseball. And God bless the coaches who give so much of their time to make it all happen.

Calvin's teammate and friend Keith is spending the night. I had a great time with them when Calvin asked me if I could teach them how to play guitar. Of course, that cannot be done instantaneously, but I sat and jammed with them for about half an hour and got out some basic books for them to look at. At one point we had a guitar/bouzouki/alto saxophone thing going. I also told them, if they are serious about this, I will try to be a good teacher and give them real lessons. This could be good for them. And me.

moving in

I'm having a little problem with my default photo program, so this photo might be excessively huge and slow to load. Sorry.

We have started the process of moving in to the new house, at least spiritually if not physically, and we've done some of that too. We slept in the new house last night. And the night before. We have these wonderful king size inflatable mattresses that are way more comfortable and supportive than our old sagging bed. I can tell the difference; I wake up so much more refreshed. Or maybe it's not having a dog at my feet and a cat in my face at 5 AM.

The mattresses are set up in one of the upper bedrooms, under the beautiful slope of the roof. Last night we had two thunderstorms, one about two-ish, the other at 4:07 (checked the time on my iPod.) The thing about sleeping under that roof is, you can hear every nuance of the rain, even under two layers of foam board insulation. You can tell when it's coming down hard and heavy, and you can tell the second that it lets up a bit. But even with the awakenings, I had a more refreshing sleep on that air mattress than I've had in a long time.

During the day, when I'm home, I don't like being inside in the cabin any more; it's just too dark and cluttered and confining. I am either outdoors, or inside relaxing in a plastic chair or on the air mattress in the new house, feeling the sense of space. The air flows much better there too. And sometimes you can even find me with bouzouki in hand, playing whatever comes to mind lately, and what comes to mind lately is very Scandinavian, with a little American roots music thrown in.

exterior stain: a preview

When I first saw it, I thought, "This is dark. And red!"

But I was used to the light natural color of pine siding, a color that I knew would not stand the test of time. And I had agreed, even enthusiatically, to the choice of California Rustic.

It's growing on me. I know we made the right choice, and it looks great with the blue roof, but I just have to bid farewell to "natural aging pine".

I've seen that color before. I think it was in Arches National Park in Utah, late January 21 years ago, the rocks were that color and the sky was just that blue. I'll scan and post a photo for comparison, when I dig that album out of storage.

umm...this nest is getting kinda tight here...

...and I'm ready to fly.

These are our baby phoebes I've been watching out the cabin window these last couple of weeks. They have been notoriously difficult to photograph, since the nest is in a very shaded area and my camera wants to flash when I don't. I let it flash this time.

I can't help but think ahead...teenagers. Well, the first is two years away from that, but already stretching his wings.

UPDATE: The young phoebes did leave the nest yesterday, successfully, although not quite in the way we'd envisioned. One parent phoebe ended up being killed by a cat. :( So the little phoebes were peeping for food, nobody was showing up at the nest, and The Hermit and the kids were worried that the little birds needed food. (I was at work) So The Hermit was going to give them some bread crumbs or something, and when he got near the nest he said they took off like a covey of quail, into the trees. There were five of them.

From what I read online about phoebes today, if one parent is around they will feed the fledged birds. I'm hoping that is the case. I also read that if these birds could fly so well, they were at least fifteen days old and ready to leave the nest. Anyway, I guess I can only wish them the best.

My unique contribution to the house

Since we can't seem to let a day go by lately without making some progress on the house, today I laid the slate tile floor that will be the hearth area around the wood stove. We chose natural cut slate over ceramic tile, partly because ceramic tile requires more processing and thus more energy to produce, and partly because it looks beautiful and natural! I didn't realize there would be so much color variation, but I love how it all looks like a subtle patchwork quilt. Do you see the symmetrical tiles, bottom center? I think, with the eye spots, it looks like a moth.

I was sweating it out, literally and figuratively. It was about 85 degrees here, the hottest it's been all summer and maybe finally close to normal. The sweat was dripping from my forehead onto the tiles. And for some reason I was very nervous about starting this whole process. What if a row started going crooked, and by the time I found out, everything was literally set in stone? I might have to look at my error for the next thirty years or more. But my fears were really unfounded; natural slate tile has so many variations, not just in hue but in thickness and even size, that it does not need to be perfectly straight, and the tiles do not need to be spaced precisely. As long as I worked all 72 tiles into the prescribed area, all was well. And I think all ended well.

I can see myself sitting there in my rocking chair, staring at that stone. For a long, long time.

UPDATE- There have been many good questions in the comments about the placement of the stove, etc. So I'll give all the details. The stove is going to be on the left side of the tile floor. We are going to build a half wall at the back of the tile floor to enclose the stove and act as a heat collector. I will be finishing this half wall with thin stones collected from around here...some day.

For placing the tile, we put down a layer of cement board, bonded to the subfloor with Ultraflex mortar, and we used the same mortar for bonding the tiles to the cement board. I still have to grout the tiles to fill in the spaces.

We have been planning for this hearth since the beginning. All of the floor joists are doubled (4X10 instead of 2x10) and we added extra pillars under the floor where the stove will be.

hillbilly laundromat

Yes, this is a real, unadulterated image from my Sand Creek estate. I am now the owner of a deluxe washer and dryer, and I tried out the washer today. It works beautifully! It's just waiting there outside until we get the long awaited indoor plumbing in the new house.

Our super handyman and friend Chris had a washer and dryer that needed a new home, and we needed a washer and dryer eventually. So he offered to us, absolutely free, a Staber washer and Maytag gas dryer. Wow. Stabers are not cheap, and they are the most energy and water efficient washers out there. And, judging from my first load of clothes, they do a pretty good job of washing dirty kid laundry.

Some of you long time readers may remember me waxing poetic about my Maytag wringer washer three years ago. Well, it still works, and will probably work forever, but it takes time to do laundry in that manner, time I simply do not have at this point. The Staber is automatic, and after I babysat the first load, making sure everything worked right, I realized I could put a load of clothes in and walk away! No wring, rinse, and wring again.

And, I calculated that going to the laundromat costs us maybe $80 a month. That's $960 a year just to keep our wardrobe clean and fresh! This new setup costs...practically nothing. I'm not using the dryer of course, since there's all kinds of free solar clothes drying energy available this time of year. That and hooking up gas is too involved for an outdoor setup like this. We may opt for an electric dryer, if necessary, in the new house.

So I like my outdoor washer; believe it or not it's a huge luxury for me!

I'm way in love...

...with our new house. Even though it's not finished, I think it's perfect in every way. My morning routine now includes (after, of course, my morning run, which I have been faithful to!) going out to the new house with a cup of coffee, meeting The Hermit there who has brought a Thermos of coffee, and just sitting there, listening and thinking and dreaming. Today I got my bouzouki out and just did some random playing on it, in between conversation, and it felt great.

Of course it helps that daylight comes by 5 AM these days, making me feel like a slacker if I sleep in until 6. Which I do.

Today Chris came over and did another coat of stuff on the drywall, then we put down cement board where I will soon be installing natural slate tiles for our hearth area.

I have a whole huge new thoughtful post in the works about our "green" choices we have been making lately for finishing the house. I hate to sound preachy about how we're doing things, because I am not the final authority on what works for everyone, I just know what has worked for us.

Kerrick Bog

This is how my evening went: Stay at work an extra 10 minutes (4:40) to chat with my overworked Aquatic Plant Management coworker on the phone, and download my day's data. Take a two block detour out of work because of a major sewer/road construction project in town. Stop at the grocery store in the next town to pick up a few things. Arrive at home just in time to turn around and take Mr. Attitude (and Starflower, along for the ride) to T-ball. Fifteen miles. Am I glad my Subaru has been averaging over 29 mpg.

Then, as I arrived home, I went to the new house with The Hermit to discuss flooring options. It's looking like local, rustic pine flooring is the way to go! Interrupted by Starflower, who came in to say that Calvin had left a voice message saying he was staying overnight at his friend's house and needed one of us to deliver his sleeping bag. I volunteered; it was a nice, cool night for a drive.
I took the state highway up to the little burb of Kerrick, then headed east. There is a magnificent bog there, on both sides of the narrow gravel road. It looked wonderful in the 8:30ish evening light of midsummer.

Along the way I saw a car pulled to the side of the road, and an older gentleman with a spotting scope set up by the car. Part of me wanted to stop and chat; this guy must be a serious birder! What was he looking for? But I just slowed down and waved as I drove by. I hope to see a report on the MOU listserv! I had to get the stuff to my son. I even brought him an extra sweatshirt; it is cool tonight.

the daily moth collection

Since we installed a night light on the cook shed, we've seen an amazing array of moths on the cook shed door in the morning. There are about seven species here. Damned if I know any of them.

Why I call him Mr. Attitude...

We took a break from home making to attend a festival in Duluth on Saturday, carpooling with our handyman, Chris. The festivities were the third annual Rhubarb Festival, put on by Churches United in Ministry in Duluth, who do the true work of Jesus, feeding the hungry and sheltering the homeless. There was a bake sale featuring all kinds of rhubarb delectibles, food stands featuring rhubarb lemonade (they included a separate container of sugar to take the edge off), and a silent auction. But of course, what is a festival without good music? And for their size, they had an awesome lineup. Leading off were The Pines, a fairly new roots folk rock duo I'm really excited about. In fact, they were the reason I was excited about this whole thing! Their music is haunting, acoustic rhythm driven, and their songwriting, dare I say, Dylanesque? I just put their CD on my iPod last night so I could listen to it as I fell asleep.

Next in the lineup was Ann Reed, a Minnesota folk fixture. I had never seen her perform live, and it was a good show, although, she's wonderful and all that but just not the kind of songwriting that moves me lately. Although I respect anyone who sings their songs freely and from the heart.

Next up was Minnesota mandolin wizard Peter Ostroushko, who played a surprisingly laid back set. The highlight was his version of Girl from the North Country. What could be more appropriate on the newly named Bob Dylan Way?

While all this was going on, my kids were exploring. Mr. Attitude came back, caked head to toe in clay mud, and Chris informed us he had found them sliding down to Lake Superior on a muddy slope. They could not understand why I prohibited them from further exploration! So Starflower and Mr. Attitude decided to explore the festival booths, including the face painting. Normally when kids get their faces painted at festivals, they get smilie faces and rainbows and all that. Well...

May I present to you Frankenstein and Dracula. It's not in my genetic makeup, I tell ya.

my blue doors

I spent a good part of my day painting the exterior doors of the new house. There are some projects I can get into, like painting doors, and some I can't, like insulation or drywall. Luckily we have someone who is willing to do the latter two.

The picture to the left is the "front" entrance, actually on the west side of the house. To the right is the "back" entrance, which will be used primarily for bringing firewood in. But both benefit from a coat of ocean blue paint. I also painted the insides a light almond color, which was not nearly as dramatic as the blue, but it looked good. I should mention, Starflower helped, and did a very good job, with the interior of the front door.

As I mentioned, I had someone who was willing to do drywall. Calvin was in charge of screwing for the day. (How bad does that sound!) And our good friend Chris was the general drywall contractor of the day. And if that isn't good enough, he's also willing (for a reasonable fee, of course) to come back some day this week and do the taping and mudding! I was really dreading doing that myself. I'll gladly paint, but drywall finish isn't my strong point.

So now we have two rooms which actually look like rooms. Only a few more to go...

While we worked, we listened to the MN Twins game, as pitcher Kevin Slowey shut out Milwaukee and the team dominated their stint with National League play, against some formidable pitchers no less. This young team amazes me. They are absolutely fun to watch. By all logic, they should not be winning so many games, but they are. I made sure I got my votes in for Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau for the All Star team.

in the garden

I was going to post this last night, but a wimpy thunderstorm knocked out our DSL overnight. I guess it doesn't matter much to them if a few people are without service, but I called just to let them know we were without service. I knew they wouldn't get on it until this morning.

Thanks to good temperatures, and a good watering once in a while, the garden, though behind schedule, is starting to come alive. I like the look of a nice bed of greens!

I have a "bonus" bed of kale and spinach, among my growing pickling cucumbers. I had planted this bed early in the spring, maybe late April, but nothing came up. I thought it had something to do with the soil, so I dumped some of my good horse pasture dirt in there and mixed it up before I planted cucumbers. As the cucumbers came up, so did various greens.

And I should really know my greens better. When I saw this stuff growing, it looked like Swiss chard to me. I never bothered to check the stems. Spinach. But it sure looks good! I forgot I planted it at the end of a bed of onions.

It the foreground, sugar snap peas with a little dill, and an open space planted with Swiss chard. I checked the label this time. In the background, waist high garlic. For the second straight year, I am blessed with garlic. The scapes (flower stalks) started growing this week.

Daisies are in every open ditch and pasture lately. These are the result of a wildflower planting I did here a long time ago, way before we lived here. They are all that remain of the original seed mix.

And, here is the lupine, starting to go to seed already. Ah, the brief, wonderful joys of summer.

update- the not so expensive rabbit after all

First, thanks for all the good bunny wishes. Good news- another vet at the office got a chance to look at Cocoa, and she thought it may just be myositis behind the eye that's making it look bulgy. So instead of surgery, we got prednisone drops to put in the eye for a week. Hopefully that will take care of the problem. I think the eye looked better this morning even before the drops were put in.

the expensive rabbit

For the most part, the rabbits have been low maintenance pets; just give them rabbit food and water, and some fresh greens now and then, and they're happy.

But early this week I noticed something wrong with Cocoa, Starflower's rabbit. Its right eye was bulging out and the eyelid was red. A little pinkeye, I thought, maybe it will go away and I can avoid a $45 vet visit. But today when the eye was still red and bulging I decided maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to give the vet a call. Come in for a $45 visit and get the $5 eye drops or whatever.

The first obstacle to that plan was finding a vet who worked with rabbits. One would think, in a rural area like this, vets would come out in the middle of the night to treat an eggbound chicken. Nope. My first call was to the local vet ten miles away, who has spayed and neutered a few of our canine and feline companions and euthanized one. I set up an appointment with the assistant, but she called back about half an hour with the news: "Dr. Vet does not see rabbits." Okay. Maybe she will not see any of our other pets in the future, even those that are her preferred species.

Next I called a clinic in the next nearest town, twenty miles away. "Do you see rabbits?" I asked. "No. You could try Cloquet." 45 miles away. So I called. "Do you see rabbits?" "Yes we do! But...we can't get you in till Monday. Two of our vets are on vacation. But the Moose Lake clinic does take rabbits."

"I already tried them, and they said no."

"Did you call Arrowhead Lane clinic?"

"Yes."

"Oh, call the OTHER one!" Little did I know the small town of Moose Lake, MN supports two vet clinics. I called the other one, asked if they saw rabbits, and the receptionist said she'd ask the doctor. She came back and said "Yes, but he says he's no expert on them, he'll probably be reading the book while he examines it. We can get you in at 4."

"Good enough", I said. At least he was willing to give it a try. Conjunctivitis isn't that hard to diagnose, I thought.

So we arrived at 4, and the vet was actually at the front desk waiting for us. A younger guy, and obviously enthusiastic and eager to help us. We went into the exam room. They ruled out glaucoma, did some X rays (cha-CHING!) to rule out a tumor, then he came with the news:

"It appears her eye may have been pushed out of its socket." Ugh. Poor bunny. POOR BUNNY! But bunnies are great at hiding things like that. They try to go on with life as usual.

But there is hope. He consulted with a friend in Wales who apparently is a rabbit expert, and he can put the bunny under anesthesia (cha-CHING!) and attempt to poke the eye back in. Ouch. But what are the alternatives? Surgery to remove the eye, euthanasia, or nothing. I can't do anything but the best for Starflower's pet bunny. Sigh.

So I'll be bringing Cocoa in at 7:30 AM for eye-poking surgery. Please pray that all goes well! And thank God it's The Hermit's payday Monday.