Daughter came up with an interesting proposal for a winter family gathering this year. She thinks that we should go to Hawaii with her, her brother, and his wife, and all take a class being offered there in November to become Certified Barbeque Competition Judges. I don’t know how much call there is for Barbecue Judges, or how rigorous the one day training is. I suppose we could fine other things to do as long as were there. I would rather go to Paris and work with a master baguette maker.
Ever since I lived in Canada I giggle whenever I hear that something or someone is certified, as it has a different meaning in Canada and England than it does in the States. Those who we call Certified Public Accountants are called Chartered Public Accountants in Canada, as being “certified” there can mean that you have been declared seriously mentally ill, and may have been involuntarily committed to a psychiatric hospital. Perhaps one would have to be a little crazy, though, to become a barbeque judge.
What would you like to become certified as? What are your experiences with judges or being a judge?
Husband and I attended the Twin Buttes Community powwow on Saturday. It was truly a celebration, as the community had just finished a new powwow grounds. Powwows are held in circular structures called arbors. The new arbor is rain proof, yet open, with bleachers and space for the drum circle groups and lawn chairs for observers. The new arbor has astroturf for the dancers. There is also a new rodeo grounds/ race track.
Twin Buttes has mainly Arikara and Mandan natives. It is a progressive community planning a new medical clinic, assisted living facility, and Native run boarding school. Our Native friends are so proud of the accomplishments.
There are protocols to follow at powwows, especially those involving the photographing of dancers. You must get permission from the individual dancers to take their photos. Husband was scolded for walking the wrong way around a drum circle in the arbor, as it was considered disrespectful to the drum. He apologized profusely.
I am so happy to share with Baboons actual videos taken at the powwow and posted on Facebook by our dear Natve friend. I have always refrained from filming at powwows. I figure if he posts it on Facebook for all and sundry to see and share, it is ok for me to share with all of you. You will see Men’s Grass dance. Women’s Jingle dance, and Men’s Fancy dance.
Sunday afternoon and evening, Monday night, and Tuesday night I was in Chatfield finishing lighting for ‘Hello Dolly’. Wednesday night Kelly and I sat on the deck and we each had a beer, and we ate re-heated cheese curds, and it was nice. Thursday night I raked straw until 9PM.
I got a new iPhone last week. It sat in the box, unopened, for a few days as I just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. I finally got it activated and I’m still trying to get the Bluetooth synced to the tractor radios and there are random passwords that didn’t carry over and I didn’t write down. Plus, some text messages don’t give me a tone while others do. And this is why I don’t like change; it is just such a hassle.
The week was filled with a lot of random activities.
The teenage chicks were out of their fence more than they were in, so we just took the fence down and let them have at it. They are loving it.
A helicopter sprayed fungicide on our corn; he was fun to watch swooping around.
I smacked myself in the side of the jaw because of the ‘kick-back’ from a 5/8″ drill and the plastic side handle; it bled a bit. And hurt for a day or two. No photo of the blood trickling down my chin.
I cleaned up more behind the shed; it had become an out of the way place to dump stuff and pretty soon the box elder trees were 30 feet tall. It didn’t start with me, Dad started it. I certainly contributed to it over the years, but it ends now. The plan is to get the stumps out and be able to mow back there. And eventually build a ‘lean-to’ in order to park some machinery back there under cover.
I finished cutting oats last Saturday. Kelly took this photo.
After the electrician buried the electric line and we got that inch of rain, the trench settled some, as expected. We used the tractor and ran the tires over the trench to pack it a bit more, and then the clay gave way, and it was stuck.
Notice the guineas inspecting the situation.
It wasn’t stuck so bad at first, but I had to see if I could get it out. I should know better. They say when you find yourself in a hole, the first thing you should do is stop digging. Using the other tractor pulled it right out mostly unharmed. Or, at least, nothing permanently harmed…The tire guy was out on Monday, and I was able to straighten the step, and all is right again.
Between the machine shed and the home office where Kelly works, is a large maple tree. Conveniently, it blocks her view of the shop and machine shed and things I’m doing. As Brent Olson would say in his column ‘Independently Speaking’, I don’t always need a witness and I often look to see if she can see me before I do something questionable. And yes, that also means sometimes I need to call her to get me out of a situation. I am still working inside the shed. Started putting 2×4’s on the walls in order to attach the wall steel. The bills have started coming in so we’re done spending money on it for this year.
I used the fancy grapple bucket and pulled all the loose straw out of the pole barn and I’ll re-bale it before heading out to the field with the baler. It’s kind of a lot of work for the 10 or 12 bales I get, but it needs to be done. (Mice get in the straw and, for some reason, 90% of the time, only chew through one string of a bale.)
Speaking of the grapple bucket, technically it’s called a ‘rock bucket’ because it’s like a giant sieve- with a claw. I’ve used it for hauling trees and brush and straw, I’ve picked up junk machinery with it and just the other day realized I could actually pick up rocks with it! Scoop up a pile of dirt, let all the dirt sift out, and then dump the rocks somewhere else! How about that!?
Half my oats were combined on Thursday. The test weight is OK at 38 lbs / bushel, but the yield is terrible. Once finished I’ll have an accurate number. Hopefully they can finish combining Friday as they’re talking rain this weekend. I was out Thursday evening raking the straw windrows double in preparation for baling on Friday. The oat plant was short this year, so there isn’t much of a windrow. That’s why I was raking two into one, to make better baling conditions and less trips around the field.
I was using the old 630 tractor and rake. This used to be one of the main tractors on the farm and it was used every day for hauling manure, pulling wagons, cultivating corn, planting crops, picking corn; all sorts of farm jobs. You can see how open it is and the rear tires right next to me. It was a tractor similar to this that ran over my brother when his jacket got snagged by the tire and pulled him off.
I’ve spent a lot of time on this tractor bundled up in winter coat and gloves.
But that was a pretty nice day to be out there. I wear hearing protection. Lots of farmers were deaf in their left ear, because they turned their heads to look over their right shoulder watching the machine behind them.
Some people call these tractors ‘Johnny Poppers’ as their large diameter piston and two-cylinder engines make a distinctive popping sound.
I’m back to work at the college on Monday. Classes start on the 21st. I’ve signed up for class 1118 Reading and Writing Critically II. It’s all online, which I still don’t like so well, but I know the teacher and she’s good.
Our son and DIL and grandson were in Alabama last week for the baptism of our DIL’s niece. I was glad our grandson got to spend time with his only cousin. It was really hot there, though, and between the weather and the politics, Son said he could never live there. I wish our grandson had cousins who lived closer.
I remember summers as the best times to hang out with my cousins. We all lived within 30 miles of each other. As an only child, my cousins were the closest people I had to siblings, and I got to spend weeks in the summers at their various farms. They all lived on farms. They were mainly boys, and I learned how to set gopher traps and set off fire works and play rough and tumble football and baseball. We played and messed around and had a great time. When I was in Middle School and High School I spent summers with a married cousin and she taught me to sew for 4-H.
The other day, Son was filling up his car with gas in Pipestone, MN where many of my cousins lived, and saw a really tall, thin, older blond man filling up his car. He looked like one of my relatives, and after Son introduced himself, it turned out he was one of my cousins, who asked when I was moving back to Minnesota! He lives in Norfolk, NE, and he is going to move back, too, when he retires. I don’t think he still traps gophers.
Where in the US wouldn’t you want to live? If you had cousins, what did you like to do with them? What are some of your favorite summer memories from childhood?
I do a lot of note taking in my job. I administer tests of personality, intelligence, cognitive functioning, and adaptive functioning to people through the age span and I have to record their anwers verbatim, quickly. I conduct in-depth interviews and have to get the information jotted down. My favorite writing instrument is a 0.7 Pentel mechanical pencil. I have used them since grad school. I am spoiled at work since I am the only person there who uses mechanical pencils, but the Business office person manages to find a State approved procurement source for them.
Husband does exactly the same work I do. He prefers ink pens, preferably a Pentel Energel Needle Tip 0.7. He buys his own at a local office supply store. Our dog prefers either pen or mechanical pencil, since both are so delightfully crunchy when he steals them out of briefcases and off tables and chews them up.
A friend of mine with MS used to see a neuorologist who would dictate his progress notes for each session during each visit simultaneously while he interviewed her. She said it was rather disconcerting to talk to him while he was repeating everything he wanted in the note into a dictaphone. I am sure someone else transcribed the note. We used to dictate our evaluations using dictaphones, and then into voice recognition software when that became available, but at this point we type reports right into the computer into an evaluation template. No wonder Husband got carpal tunnel issues from all his years of typing. I have been lucky in that regard.
What is your favorite writing instrument? What is the first typewriter you ever used? How fast could type in your prime? Ever read your medical chart?
I have lived in my current town since 1987. It is a fairly small community in an isolated area, and over the 36 year we have lived here, I have come to know lots of people in town and in the communities in the surrounding region. I can tell where many people live or grew up just by knowing their last names. I also know the family histories of many people here through my work as a mental health professional at a regional human service center. There are scads of large, Roman Catholic families out here, and everyone seems to be related to or connected with everyone else.
One of the first thing I do every day when I get to work is check out the on-line jail roster at the regional correctional center in town. It is updated daily. Our town and the small towns around us have a multicounty facility where anyone in our region who gets arrested is incarcerated. This is partly nosiness as well as important information to have if anyone I am currently working with or a member of their family has got into a spot of trouble with the law. They even have the mugshots and information about the arrests and charges. The facility holds about 50 people. I have recognized as many as six people at one time on the roster.
The next thing I do is to check the websites of the two funeral homes in town to see who died. This is pure nosiness, but in a small community it is important information to know what families are grieving and/or if I have to go to a funeral soon. World affairs often take a back seat to local news in my day to day life. I am considering subscribing on-line to the New York Times just to broaden my news horizons. I already subscribe to their cooking app, so I think I get a discount on the news sections. We have the Rock County Star Herald (Luverne, MN’s paper) and the Bismarck Tribune delivered to the house.
Where do you go to for news? Subscribe to any news sources?Do you have a paper delivered to your house or apartment?
A couple of weeks ago Husband and I went to a barbeque in the Killdeer Mountains. The Killdeer Mountains are about 45 miles north of our town. They are really two mesas formed by wind, and river and lake erosion. The highest point is only 975 feet. There are lots of trees there. It was a sacred place for our native tribes. There also are badlands on three sides. One of the last battles of the Civil War was fought there in 1864, when General Sully fought some Sioux who who the government wanted removed from the Upper Missouri area to protect communication lines to the gold fields in Montana and Idaho. It was also part of punishing any natives for the Dakota War of 1862 whether they had participated in it or not. You can see the remoteness of the area, despite oil drilling activity.
You can see a mesa from the plains that surround it.
A nurse friend of mine and her brother inherited 4000 acres of land in the Killdeer mountains, part of a ranch owned by their great grandfather. We had the barbeque at a lovely, old hunting cabin there, where my nurse friend goes for rest and relaxation. She doesn’t hunt. A neighbor runs cattle on part of the land. The bulk of the 4000 acres has been turned into a nature preserve by my friend and her brother with the help of the Nature Conservancy. There is a mountain lion there as well as elk in the tall spruce and pine trees that grow all over the place. It is peaceful and quiet. We didn’t see the mountain lion, but it was fun to know it was in the area. Some friends brought their bird dogs to the gathering, who had a blast running around and looking for the wildlife. Other friends brought their children, who did the same thing.
Where would you like to have a rustic cabin? What sort of animals would you want in your nature preserve?
Thankfully theaters are equipped with AC these days. This week was all about theater.
I was at the Rochester Repertory Theater Monday and Tuesday evenings finishing lighting and dress rehearsals for ‘I and You’ by Lauren Gunderson. That opened on Thursday with a preview audience on Wednesday so that Wednesday night I was headed to the town of Chatfield, 20 miles South of Rochester to begin lighting ‘Hello Dolly’. I drove down on Monday with my friend Paul to scope out the place since I didn’t work there last summer, and the building had a lot of renovations done. Potter Auditorium, built in 1936, is attached to an elementary school built in 1916.
The theater was renovated in 2016. The renovation done to the school revealed the original skylights and main beams in a ‘great room’. It removed a lot of steps and ramps and various levels and added more bathrooms and elevators. It’s pretty nice.
I started working in Potter Auditorium in 1986, building the set for ‘Annie’ for $500. My dad and brother helped me carry 40 sheets of 4×8 particle board up from the basement to cover the gym floor (because of course it was a ‘gymnatorium’) and we couldn’t mess up the basketball floor.
The next year I built the set for ‘Barnum’, and the next year, some kind of original talent show.
Working in Chatfield always feels like going home. Lots of good memories there. There wasn’t AC until the 2016 renovation. Back in the 80’s, hornets would come in and buzz around on their backs on the floor. I’d walk over and step on them. Good times.
I recently heard someone mention how, when they were a young kid, their dad talked about hunting and outdoor sports so that’s why they hunt now. And I thought, I got mail order books, and Disney records of Musicals. Mary Poppins, Robin Hood, Bedknobs and Broomsticks. Hmmm.
I mentioned we had hail last Saturday. I notified crop insurance, and they assigned an adjuster. Haven’t met with him yet.
It knocked some oats out and beat up the corn and soybeans a bit. Left some marks on our cars too.
The ceiling insulation for the shop was blown in on Wednesday. The ball is back in my court to start working again.
I started cutting oats on Tuesday. It was so hot the swather wouldn’t run right and it left me walking home twice. And then we got an inch of rain Tuesday night. Because of course now it would rain.
Also Tuesday the electrician buried the new electric line to the shop. He cut the phone line, which I didn’t need to the shop anymore. He also found the phone line from 1968 when we lived in the machine shed while the house was being built.
And then he found the current electric line to the old shop. The one my dad buried in the 1950’s and the one being replaced. It was 30 feet from where I thought it was. So, he changed course. Oops; found it again. Thinking back; there was a ravine and a tree there, so I guess Dad had to go around the tree. Maybe that’s why it was way over where it shouldn’t have been.
But this guy is an electrician, and he was able to fix it; no harm, no foul.
Here is Kelly posing with her new Gator.
We like it better than the old one already.
WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE DISNEY MOVIE OR SONG? PLEASE RESPOND BY SINGING IT.
There have been some strange happenings here in usually dull ND that could be the basis of some interesting mytery or science fiction stories.
The first event was in Fargo. A couple of weeks ago there was a story in the Fargo Forum about a spat between a local hospital system and a medical waste disposal company It seems that a human torso showed up in a bin at the medical waste company, and the company blamed the hospital and the hospital blamed the medical waste company.
No one has indicated the identity of the body, or where the rest of the body is. Hmm.
The second mystery is closer to home, in our driveway. About two weeks ago, Husband found the decapitated, eviscerated corpse of a small cottontail rabbit. The head was lying right by the body. All the entrails were gone. Our dog is never in the front yard. We have no roaming cats or dogs in the neighborhood. Who (or what) could have done this? We live in the middle of town. Hmm.
Come up with some hypotheses for these strange events. Could they be linked?
To make that cauliflower salad I needed hazelnut oil. Not something I have sitting on my shelf. And, it turns out, not something that is all that easy to find. That’s how I ended up at my co-op (well, technically one of my co-ops… I have three different memberships) on a Tuesday morning. Although I can do errands whenever I want these days, I do find that I still end up with a lot of errands on the weekend.
The cashier at the co-op was a nice young man and when I checked out he very gently asked if anyone in my household was 50 or older. I laughed, pointed at myself and said “just me”. Apparently Tuesday is Senior Discount Day at the co-op. The discount was just enough to offset the ‘round-up’ that I always do when I shop there. As I was getting back into my car, I laughed a bit to myself thinking that they’ve probably had store-wide sensitivity training about asking folks if they are old enough for the senior discount. Maybe the “is anyone in your household” question was born there.
Aging, while not always the most fun I’ve had, isn’t a problem for me on principal. One of my favorite movie quotes is from People Will Talk with Cary Grant and Jeanne Crain. He plays a doctor and one of his elderly patients laments that it’s no fun to get old. Cary Grand replies “It’s even less fun if you don’t get to be old.”
The first time I got the senior discount was when I was 50, at a miniature golf course in Hayward, Wisconsin. It was listed on the price board and I asked for it. The second time was at Perkins when I turned 55. After that, I went home and sent my mother a sympathy card for having a daughter old enough to get the senior discount.
So the cashier didn’t need to pussyfoot around me about a senior discount. I’ll take any discount that anyone if willing to give me for having survived this long!
Trail Baboon 