One of the most trying aspects of our Grandson’s two week stay has been managing his interactions with our dog. Kyrill is a terrier, therefore terribly intrusive and curious. Grandson doesn’t like the way the dog invades his space and hovers. The dog just wants to be a part of everything. He also seems to be anxious, and when he isn’t following Grandson he is sitting in my lap. I am never alone. That has been stressful.
I found that the best way of helping Grandson understand the dog’s behavior is to talk in what I imagine the dog’s voice would be, explaining my (the dog’s) motives and feelings. The dog’s voice is lower than my regular speaking voice, with some difficulty saying his L’s. Grandson is young enough to suspend reality and have conversations with the dog (me), explaining how he feels about the dog’s behavior. Sometimes Grandson will say something, and then tell me “Oma, I am talking to Kyrill”, letting me know I have to answer him in Kyrill’s voice and from Kyrill’s point of view. Like us, the dog has been glad for our Grandson’s stay, but, like us, also looking forward to having things back to normal.
Do you have a particular voice you use for your pets? What would your pets say to you if they could talk?What were your best and worst childhood pets?
It’s mud season. Everything is mud. And not just our farm; on FB or YT, the farmers I follow are all complaining about the mud. I don’t miss the mud I dealt with when I had cows. Even the chickens are trying to get out of it.
And we haven’t had the worst of it. Wait until the frost starts to come out.
Lately, I end up washing all the eggs just because they’re covered with muddy footprints.
And another snowstorm ain’t helping.
I got the car washed two days in a row (I have a wash membership) and the guy even said “You must live way out in the woods!” Not much point trying to keep it clean, it’s just to wash off the outer layer of grime.
Trying to move snow after the latest round and now the ground is soft and it’s really hard not to rip up sod and dirt or move the gravel around. And I thought to myself, I go through this every spring; you’d think it would have leveled out by now. But a bump on the front wheels makes the rear blade go down an equal amount. Or a lump on the rear wheels and the front loader digs in. Slow down and make the best of it. Eventually the lawn mower will level that back off.
I was digging in the junk drawer in the shed the other day. You thought your house junk drawer was bad.
The only thing I routinely use out of here are hydraulic couplers, fuses, and the little lightbulbs for your car taillights. I sure don’t need this cabinet for those few things. But there’s a flat surface on the top so I can put things there! I assume it’s from our old house… Dad put it here. This summer, GONE!
All those things sitting on top? Hydraulic fittings. Two different types, one of which doesn’t fit anything I have anymore. WHY AM I STILL SAVING THEM??
I picked up Allie’s ashes. Bailey and Allie just tormented each other and it appears Baily is basically saying ‘I got your pillow; suck it Allie!’.
Humphrey always plays it cool. Or maybe he just has tummy ache. He is delicate and if he eats carrion, he doesn’t feel good and I have to give him GasX. Plus, He is eight years old, basically our age. Naps are good.
I was reading the daily email I get from the weather channel talking about the comet Hale-Bopp appearing in 1997. I had a calf named Hale-Bopp. Sometimes it got hard to name calves. Sometimes you just used whatever was available. I had several weather related name for calves.
Chicks are in short supply. And I don’t say like I need a date; I say that as someone who generally orders chicks in March for delivery in a couple weeks. I mentioned last week I was starting to think about chicks and then saw on the news how there was a shortage, and when I logged in to Hoovers Hatchery, the first available was June! And depending on the breed ordered, it might be July!
I ended up revising the breeds I wanted in order to get June 1 shipment. Which is still 6 – 8 weeks later than I prefer. It has pros and cons; I’ve gotten chicks in March before and the temperature crashes and while they are in a heated pen, it’s just harder when that happens. (I tried fall chicks once too; got them in October. Two weeks later it was 20 degrees and their water was freezing at night.) Mid-April is usually pretty safe weather wise, but it’s a busy time at work and home. Ok, so June should avoid both of those…but now we’re into January or February before we get eggs. And the current chickens taper off around December, meaning well, we might be in an egg crunch again from our farm.
Why a chick shortage? What came first; the shortage of the chicken or the egg? Avian flu and millions of chickens killed. Hence the egg shortage for a while as the hens get to laying age. Prices on eggs are up so people decided to raise their own chickens. In a year, (or the first cold week. Or when the price comes back down) there will be a surplus of ‘mature’ chickens on marketplace. I’ve gotten a lot of chickens because people were not prepared or interested in raising chickens during the winter.
I am in this play called ‘Master Class’. It’s Maria Callas having a master class. (Born Maria Anna Cecilia Sophie Kalogeropoulou; December 2, 1923 – September 16, 1977, was one of the most renowned and influential opera singers of the 20th century.”- Wiki) I am the ‘stagehand’. I have 9 lines and I bring out a footstool, a cushion, and I refill her water glass. It is fun to be ‘onstage’ again, but when I go out for curtain call and bows, I still think to myself, “This is not right; I’m not supposed to be out here.” First rehearsal I was asking the director about this stagehand; what’s his motivation. Maria is not a pleasant woman toward him. Did he work AC/DC last night? Finally I just asked, ‘Does he have attitude?’ Oh yes, she said, there’s attitude. Perfect.
They say, keep trying things until the director tells you to back off, then you know when you’ve gone far enough. The director didn’t tell me to back off until I got a toothpick with cellophane on the end. I wanted to play him like a 1950’s old guy; stubby cigar and faded tattoo. She wouldn’t let me do tattoos. I opted for the smallest hammer, a different colored toothpick for each entrance, and I wanted a bad toupee but had to make do with an old ladies wig. (Every night, I wet it down and smooth out the curls). But it’s a fun group, and a good experience.
REMEMBER HALE BOPP? WHEN HAVE YOU HAD TO TAKE A BOW?LAST TIME YOU CLEANED OUT YOUR JUNK DRAWER?
“The Worm Moon is the moon for March and for some it takes its name from the fact that earthworms begin to reappear around this time of year, bringing birds back out to feed. It signals the tail end of Winter and the beginning of regrowth for nature.” Joey Rather, Clarksburg, WV
YA and I went out to the Arboretum on Tuesday night to do a Worm Moon Hike. I’ve never done one of these monthly hikes before but figured that by March, it should be decent enough weather. The website gave scant information so I was a little surprised when we saw some folks putting on snowshoes.
It didn’t seem necessary as we started out along the pond. The path was clear and packed down. Easy peasy. Then we headed into the wooded area and while there were small luminaries, without the ambient night light, it was a little harder to see and in a couple of uphill stretches it was slippery. I was doing OK as I was wearing boots; YA not so much in her tennis shoes. We made it past the slippery spots, continuing in an uphill direction. So far so good.
It was clouding over but at the topmost part of the hike, there was a lovely view of the hazy moon so we stopped for a bit to admire it. then it got rough – downhill. The luminaries didn’t really do a great job of lighting and downhill felt way more treacherous. YA was slipping a bit but catching trees to steady herself. I tried to walk more in the snow than on the path but the snow depth was not consistent at all. In one place, I’d step off the path and sink to almost my knee. In other spots it wasn’t as deep but the ground under the snow wasn’t even so it was tough and not much fun.
Finally at about the 2/3 mark, the snowy hiking trail crossed the road (Three Mile Road) and to our surprise, we discovered that the road back was lit. We both agreed that we would walk the rest of the way on the road, which was completely clear. At that point, like the first 5 minutes of the hike, it was easier to really enjoy the scenery and the beauty of the Arb at night. When we got back to the car YA said “well, I’m guessing that’s not what you expected” and she was right. Next year I’m just doing the road!
We are starting our second, and unexpected, week of caring for our grandson. A snow storm and terrible road conditions have made our planned rendezvous with Son and Dil impossible today, and it looks like the weather is going to be awful all week. We may not get him back to his parents until Saturday.
Yesterday Husband, Grandson, and dog had a wonderful time playing in the snow drifts, feeding the birds, and tearing around in the backyard. The dog came in the house with a mass of golf ball-sized snow clumps sticking to his beard, skirt, armpits, furnishings, and legs. I had to put him in a warm bath to melt them. He had a great time out there, though. Grandson loved watching the birds flock at the feeder.
Husband is exhausted from clearing snow. He says that North Dakota words to live by are “Don’t run out of whiskey in a blizzard”. His small stash of hooch is holding up just fine, but we really need spring to come.
What are your words to live by? Any opinions about whiskey?
We started off this week with rain on Monday. Rain on a snow packed gravel road just makes ice, so there was a lot of phone calls between the township officials. Most of the residents know the county, whom we contract for snow removal and road maintenance, is working on it, but they will sometimes send a note just to make sure we know a certain road is an ice rink. And a few roads are more trouble than others. We all managed and in a few hours they were better.
When I was moving snow last week, I forgot to make a path from the back door of the chicken coop over to the building with the feed. I did that in the rain Monday morning because the chickens needed more feed. And I then went up the driveway and tried to scrape off some ice. I sanded the corners and had to take a moment to be grateful, again, for the things I can do this year that I was not doing a year or six months ago. I picked up and threw a bag of feed on my shoulder and I carried buckets of corn. A year ago, I had the shoulder surgery and couldn’t do any of that. I walked through the snow and I spread out sand; six months ago I was barely able to walk or keep my balance and I certainly would not have been walking on an uneven surface.
Chickens are doing really well, we’re getting somewhere between 18 and 24 eggs per day. Thanks to Tim, I was able to move a few dozen and someone at the college took a few dozen. I think I moved 16 dozen eggs one day.
We still have the two ducks. Plus, some wild ones that come in for corn.
It’s very interesting to us, the pheasants are not afraid of the vehicles; the tractor or the gator or a car and they will just stand there and watch us go by. But I step out of the house 75 yards away and they flee.
I’m not sure if you can consider an inch of snow being ‘March coming in like a lion’, it’s March, it’s going to do whatever it does. There are basketball tournaments and they used to say there was always a snowstorm during tournaments. That doesn’t prove so true anymore, so we’ll just see what it is. But the snow is melting. Even after that freezing rain on Monday, by Monday afternoon a lot of ice had melted on the road. We talk about our long driveway, but most of the time it’s just the first 300 yards from the house that’s a problem. Those are the two corners going uphill to get out of our yard. If you can get around those two corners you can probably make it. The rest of the road is still curvy and uphill, but it’s open and in the sun, and doesn’t usually drift too bad, knock-on wood, famous last words, your mileage may vary, certain weather conditions apply.
When I was a kid, I had a rail sled. Technically, I still have it, it’s hanging in the garage.
When I was a kid I used a rail sled. At some point when I was a kid dad re- did a lot of the driveway so it wouldn’t drift so bad. But prior to that, there was these two corners that had banks on the sides. I would take this rail sled up above the second corner and get a run at it and I could make both corners, come around below the house and ride that sled all the way down to the barn. It was like a luge run! That was the coolest thing ever. My brother talks about it too. But if the road got too slippery, well then we couldn’t get out with the car. (rear wheel drive you know back then) and dad spread manure on the road and that kind of messed up the luge run. Seriously, manure. Why buy salt, we have this and it’s free and it needs to be spread every day anyway. Once it started to melt in the spring mom complained a bit.
Manure spreader designs changed over the years. They used to have multiple beaters in the back and you got a nice even spread. Then they went to a single beater design, and you got a lot more clumps. Designs changed again to go to vertical beaters or side discharge and of course the whole way of farming has changed enough that it all had to change with it. Manure is a good fertilizer and there’s a lot of value to it and it’s taking very seriously nowadays. There’s a lot of recordkeeping involved, and there are only certain conditions under which it can be applied. I’m not up on all the rules anymore, but I’m not sure I would be allowed to surface spread in the winter on a hillside. Runoff and erosion, you know, the farmers take that seriously too.
KTCA, Twin Cities Public Television, used to show “Matinee at the Bijou“ at noon on weekdays and sometimes at lunch when dad and I were in the house we’d watch the movie. I remember seeing a black and white Army movie, all I can remember is this bit: a man jumps out of the back of the army truck and lands in a puddle, and he says to the driver “You couldn’t find a dry spot?” and the driver says, “Man. This is a dry spot!” No idea what movie it was. I’ve tried looking for that quote without luck. Why do I remember that?? It had to be 40 years ago. Anyone know the movie?
These blogs. Some days I just start typing and I don’t know when to stop. Don’t ask me about stage lighting. I forget to breathe when you get me going on stage lighting.
I am taking quite a bit of time off this week looking after our grandson. He is quite amiable and happy, and it has been quite fun. He is quite good at entertaining himself, so I have had some time to sit and rest. Yesterday I decided to have Ostfriesentee in the afternoon.
I started drinking tea when I lived in Canada. My mother’s family didn’t drink much tea, but my dad’s parents did. I wasn’t surprised when I ran across an article about the importance of tea in Ostfriesland, as that is where my father’s family came from. Ostfriesland is in northwest Germany right across the Ems River from the Netherlands. People there drink 300 liters of tea per person each year.
The favorite tea in Ostfriesland is Assam tea, strong and malty. There is a very precise way to drink it. First, you put sugar lumps called kluntjes in the cup, then pour in the hot tea and try to hear the sugar make a cracking noise. Next, you pour a teaspoon of heavy cream against the inside rim of the cup so the cream makes neat designs in the tea. You don’t stir the tea, but drink it in layers, so that the last drops are sweetened by the rock sugar. I typically don’t have time in the week for such ceremony, and this was fun.
What are some ceremonies you like? How do you take your tea?
We are now home with our grandson, who was a super traveling companion yesterday. He and I drove out of Fargo Sunday in a ground blizzard for 100 miles west. It was an Oma’s worst driving nightmare, unable to see the road, which was rapidly filling up with snow and ice, trucks and cars trying to pass, and then realizing that the road was slippery. Grandson was very calm and eventually fell asleep for about an hour. I prayed as I drove. Husband had stayed home to take care of the dog, so I was on my own. I drove 80 MPH once with roads cleared and the winds died down west of Jamestown. I just wanted to get home.
Security for grandson is a special quilt and a couple of stuffed animals-a plush elephant named Ellie and a plush T Rex named Sue. He wrapped himself in his quilt and hugged Sue as we drove. I remember having a special security blanket my mother had to wash when I was sleeping, since I didn’t want to let it out of my sight. I eventually left it on a fence post near Two Harbors when I was 5. I also stopped sucking my thumb then. Our grandson is being so brave, and we are having a great time with him.
What were your security objects when you were a child? What helps you feel secure now?
Starting Sunday, it will be a wild ride at our house. Our son and his wife are flying to Savannah, GA so our son can attend the American Counseling Association conference and they can both have a much deserved vacation. Our grandson, who will be 5 in April, was going to spend the week with his maternal grandparents in Mankato. They are a lovely retired couple, both educators, some years older than me and Husband. We are Oma and Opa. They are Grandma and Papa.
Last weekend Papa fell and broke his upper arm bone. It is painful. He and Grandma are disappointed that their combined health issues make it impossible for them to look after our grandson, so we agreed to take him for the week. Son will drive him to Fargo from Brookings, SD on Sunday, I will pick him up in Fargo on Sunday and drive back here with him.
Opa and I plan to tag team child care next week in terms of work. I will work mornings. Opa will watch Grandson, and then we will switch, and Opa will work afternoons and I will watch Grandson. Opa loves to swim and will take him to the swimming pools at our local recreation center. We also have story time at the local library, lots of books in our home, and Oma’s play therapy room at work where any 4 year old would think he was in heaven. We will have to integrate Grandson and our spoiled dog. I expect to be exhausted, but happy, by the end of the week.
Imagine an almost 5 year old boy was coming to stay with you for a week. What would you do with him? What are you favorite grandparent memories?
I got the idea for this on Sunday as I talked with our daughter. (It is sort of a continuation of VS’s post from yesterday, although I didn’t plan it that way.)
I drove our daughter to Bismarck for violin lessons one day a week from the time she was in Grade 6 until she graduated from high school. That was a 190 mile round trip each week for seven years, but it was worth it. It was a really wonderful experience for our daughter. It gave us time to bond. She made a particular, same-age friend named Michelle who is now an environmental engineer based in Virginia. Friend’s job is to monitor and lessen environmental impacts for a coal mining company. She and Daughter decided to visit their Suzuki teacher this past weekend who moved to New Mexico to care for her aging parents. They had a great time.
They flew into El Paso, had a rather harrowing, late-night drive to Roswell, NM to see what was there, and then drove to Las Cruces to visit their teacher and her husband, and see the sights. They were surprised by the high elevations and all the snow. They drove into the mountains and visited the grave of the real Smokey The Bear, where they both inexplicably burst into tears. They loved the food. They had such fun connecting with their teacher, and pledged to visit her again.
One of their most memorable eating experiences was at a hole in the wall place in Las Cruces called Perk and Jerk, a breakfast place with award winning jerky and great coffee. Its interior was less than welcoming.
Daughter said it was the best jerky she ever had. I guess appearances can be deceiving.
Daughter and her friend decided that they want to have more travel adventures together. Daughter said that being together seems to cancel out their respective anxieties, and that they are extremely compatible. Their next trip is to West Virginia to visit a coal mine museum in September. I reminded Daughter that her ancestors are Scots coal miners, and that her great great great grandfather died in a coal mining accident near Glasgow. The family immigrated to Ohio and West Virginia and continued to mine until they found other work. Her friend has an adopted grandparent couple in Bismarck who are from Norway, so in the spring of 2024 they want to travel to Oslo and the Faroe Islands and honor those folks’ relatives. I think it is wonderful.
Who are your best and worst travel companions?What makes for a great traveling companion? Ever been to the Faroe islands?
On Saturday I went to the Celebration of Life for my oldest friend, Deana. She wasn’t my oldest friend in terms of age but in terms of longevity; there are folks that I have known longer but they fall into the acquaintance category. I met Deana in 1977 and we were fast friends from the beginning.
When she met my then-boyfriend, she used to refer to him as “the Greg Person” which eventually became “the GP”. Once we got married, if Greg picked up the phone receiver and then after a few seconds of silence, he would hand the phone to me saying “it’s Deana”. She always said she was so surprised when a man answered the phone that she was temporarily speechless.
At one point I took a cake decorating class from a visiting artist and one of the things we made were pink elephants sitting in champagne glasses. Deana adored these elephants and when her youngest got married, she had me make a groom’s cake covered with pink elephants and tipped over champagne glasses. It was hysterical.
Deana loved to travel – all her traveling involved throwing her bags and various children/grandchildren/great grandchildren into her big van and heading off down the road. She even included YA once when YA was about 10. That trip went to South Carolina and Florida.
She never wanted to retire – she always said she would work until the last minute. After leaving the food industry, she ended up at a support and housing organization for the intellectually disabled, a place where she worked for close to 40 years. She also worked at the local grocery store, managing the floral station.
Once when I visited I discovered all my Ukrainian eggs along with some shiny holiday ornaments hanging from the ceiling in the front room. She said it was too dangerous to have a tree up that year with her youngest having just learned to stand and walk but she didn’t want to entirely forego her ornaments.
I wouldn’t call her a hippy but she did love bright colors, especially tie-dye. She actually told folks before her death that she wanted people to come to her service in vibrant colors – no black or gray or, heaven forbid, navy blue.
Deana was a collector of people. If you wandered into her orbit, her gravity would grab you and never let go. She was very close to all of her family as well as those she considered family. The house was always full of kids and grandkids. If you needed a hand, Deana would be there to offer help.
At the service we sang one of her favorite songs, Puff the Magic Dragon. Normally a tear jerker for me but considering that Deana is gone, it was particularly poignant. And as always, I did not come prepared with enough tissues.
Trail Baboon 