I was quite amused this week to read that the Federal Communication Commission is worried about our robovacs as threats to national cyber security.
Thats right. Along with certain routers and drones, the FCC has banned the importing of many robovacs unless they meet certain criteria. This means there will be fewer robovacs on the market, and, of course, prices for the government approved ones will rise.
We have a Shark robovac that we put to good use on our upstairs wood flooring. We named her Good Clean Bess, or just Bess, for short. Shark products are included in the current government ban, although already purchased or other units currently on the shelves haven’t been banned. She is parked in the dining room on her charger. Now, when I walk by her I wonder “What is she telling foreign spies about me and my home? What does she tell them about the dust and dirt she collects? Our cat ignores Bess, but what about cats who like to ride on robovacs as they travel over our floors? Do we need to worry that our cats are sharing State secrets ?
I know I am being a little over the top about this. I can understand concerns about routers and drones, but vacuums?
What would a hostile foreign government learn about you and your home from your vacuum? What would you do with a drone?
As always happens the first week of October, the email from the ND Board 0f Psychologist Examiners arrived reminding us that it is time to renew our licenses. Husband has been licensed since 1991. I have been licensed since 1994.
This year is different for us, since neither of us is renewing our licenses. We are retired. We no longer live in ND, and we haven’t accrued the 40 hours of continuing education over the past two years necessary to maintain our licenses., which formally expire January 1, 2027. We plan to email the Board office this week to let them know we aren’t renewing. Husband will also step down as the Board Investgator of ethical complaints against licensees on January 1.
I have mixed feelings about all this; happy to be retired and not having to pay for relicensure, wistful about letting go of a huge part of my identity. Husband notes with great irony that the Board is trying to enlist two licensees to do the complaint investigations that he did all by himself.
I was the Board president for 8 years, and I remember hearing from the Board office about people who initially decided to let their licenses expire when they retired, who then decided at the last minute to renew, and needed an extension from the Board to complete their continuing education hours. That will NOT happen for us. Done is done, but my, I will miss it.
Did your employment or some other aspect of your life form your identity? How has your identity changed over the years? Ever file a complaint against a licensed. service provider?
The State of North Dakota gives out the Rough Rider Award annually to native North Dakotans who have been influenced by living there to achieve excellence in their respective fields or endeavors. It is the highest award the State endows.
The plaque is fairly small, with a 3-D bust of Teddy Roosevelt in the center. The recipients are given honorary rank of Colonal in the Theodore Roosevelt ND Rough Riders. They also gets their portraits painted and hung in the capitol building. Past recipients include Louise Erdrich, Bobby Vee, Peggy Lee, Louis L’ Amour, Roger Maris, and Eric Severeid.
The first recipient of the award was Lawrence Welk in 1961. I should remind Baboons that Lawrence Welk is a particular interest of mine since my paternal grandfather’s first cousin married Lawrence Welk’s daughter, Shirley.
Imagine the consternation in ND last week when it was reported that a ND couple traveling in Brittany, France went into a thrift store there and found Lawrence Welk’s Rough Rider Award Plaque. The woman in the couple stated she saw this 3-D silver image of Teddy Roosevelt on the plaque, and was astounded to see the inscription regarding Lawrence Welk below it. How on earth could this happen?
Why in France? Did Lawrence travel much in France in the 1960’s and 1970’s? Were the Welk’s so hard up after he died they sold all his memorabilia? Did the woman and her husband somehow get the plaque and bring it to France and claim they found it, thus to increase its value? It is a mystery. I hope we can find out what really happened.
What mysteries would you like solved? What award would you like to receive?What would you like your relatives to do with your things after you are gone?
I read with great amusement this weekend about the deportation of Milo Yiannopolous, the right-wing rabble rouser described as a Provacateur. That French word made what he does, which is disgusting, seem so exciting and mysterious.
I wondered if he listed “Provacateur” as his official job description on legal documents and his British Income Tax returns. My father could have described himself as a Provacateur. He loved lively conversation in his coffee shop, and loved teasing and vexing his buddies who held different political beliefs than he did. I had to promise him on his death bed that I would include his signed photo of Hilary Clinton in the slide show at his funeral lunch. He wanted one last dig at his Republican friends. Heaven for him would be in a fishing boat with Winston Churchill, Joseph Stalin, and Billy Graham.
I think we should all start describing our vocations in French. Husband and I would be Psychologues. I don’t know the past vocations of all Baboons, but I know we have a Travailleuse Sociale (social worker), an Infirmiere Diplomee (registered nurse), a Poseur de Moquette (carpet layer), a Publicitaire (advertising professional), a Joueuse de Mandolin and Chanteuse (mandolin player and singer), an Auteur (author), a l’Agriculteur (farmer), a Technicien Lumiere (theatre lighting technician) and a Touche-a-tout (jack of all trades). Maybe we would all get paid more with such fancy job titles!
What is the French word for different jobs you have had? Would you enjoy being a Boulevardiere, Maitre d’hote, Danseuse, Raconteur, Flaneur, Sommelier, or some other French occupation?
Husband and I were ND State employees for 37 years. As such, we were actively discouraged, almost prohibited, by our bosses from putting political signs in our yard.
This was the case no matter what party was in control of the State government. There apparently was great concern that State employees had to appear as neutral as possible and not be viewed as trying to influence elections.
I suppose in more populous areas inthe country people wouldn’t necessarily know if you were a State employee . In ND, where everyone knows everyone and where they work, nothing was anonymous.
This will be the first year in decades we will be able to put political signs in our yard. Husband is going to the county DFL meeting tomorrow night and I hope he brings some signs home. It is pretty exciting!
Do you put political signs in your yard? Ever run into problems with them or had them vandalized?
Mondays can be tough. Monday two weeks ago I accidentally ripped open a bag of flour in our pantry, which is also called the ‘doghouse’ as it’s a completely impractical storage area six feet deep, with a three foot door opening three feet off the floor, inside a closet. Because Heaven forbid my mom would waste any storage area. My family and I were recently talking about this area; as kids we had to climb in there to get things for mom because the adults could never get in there.
Long story longer, a month ago I needed something in a hurry from a tote behind a shelf unit in the doghouse. I had to move a bunch of stuff to get the shelf out to get the tote out. I had junk scattered all over the kitchen. And it all sat for a few days because I wanted Kelly’s help putting stuff back. And then early Monday morning, I was doing something in there that I don’t recall and something shifted and as I tried to shift it back, I ripped open the bag of flour. Then I knocked a 48 pack of AA batteries on the floor. It was a new package and batteries went everywhere. I closed the door and went to an eye appointment.
Later in the day, after my eyes cleared up, I started cleaning up the flour and trying to organize. I bought some pull out shelf slides and cut some boards and then realized if you pull out the shelf unit, you can’t get in the closet. So you’d have to be standing in the closet before you pull out the shelf, meaning you’d have to move the stuff in there first, and at that point Kelly said let’s re-evaluate this idea. Always the practical one that woman.
The Doghouse Pantry.
This last Monday I stopped at the Farm Service Agency (FSA) office to report my crops for the year. It’s called certification and it’s how the government tracks our production for all those farming handouts we get. I worked for this office back in the 1980’s when it was called the ASCS office. Certifications were easier back then. I had emailed this year’s certification maps into the office twice, trying to get the process done correctly, and there were still some questions. An hour and a half later all was well and I am certifiable. I mean certified. The agent helping me did a great job and when I told her this process was easier 30 years ago she gave me a blank look. Well, it was, I said. It just was. Trust me.
I went home and was gonna mount the loader back on the tractor for an upcoming lumber delivery. Usually this is a quick five minute job. But I bumped something and something shifted and bolts popped out and the support stands gave way. I stopped the tractor there so as not to make things worse. And then things got sketchy. I used a bunch of those wood blocks I was just saying I didn’t know why I had so many of. And I used a thing called a ‘Porta Power’ that I bought at an auction, and a jack, and a metal stand I’ve been saving for 15 years just for this purpose. I said some prayers and got it all jacked back up and the bolts replaced and the stands back in place and got the loader mounted. Whew!
I thought I was gonna start mowing weeds this week. I haven’t gotten that done yet. Got some other stuff done though.
Tuesday morning I donated platelets. It was my 80th donation, meaning 10 gallons (which I quibbled about; donating whole blood 80 times might equal 10 gallons, but not donating platelets even at two units / donation. Still, I got a 10 gallon pin and a new hat.
Our basement bathroom remodeling has begun… I don’t think it will take long as nothing major is really happening. The old cement board shower walls have been removed, and a new shower stall will be installed, a new vanity, and new toilet. With bidet!
1968 no more.
I got lumber delivered…more work for me and the boys.
More on this when we get to it.
And then I decided to haul in some scrap iron before I take the loader off the tractor again. I loaded up the trailer and when I got out of the tractor there were spots on the front fender, and the inside of the front wheel was wet. That seemed like a problem.
What you’re looking at here is something pretty special. It’s a hydraulic hose under the tractor that controls the steering. There’s one on each side. This one has developed a leak and was spraying oil around. Usually the dealership can just make up a new hydraulic hose, but for some reason, the parts manual didn’t tell them what parts were needed for this. I took the old one off and up to John Deere. Turns out one end is odd.
John Deere says there’s two of these hoses in North America. One is in Texas and one is in Canada. Which doesn’t make sense. Something isn’t right. Hydraulic hoses break; how can there only be two of them?? But I’ll get them, on Tuesday. And this whole thing really discouraged me. I had things to do with that tractor the next few days.
I did have 2700 pounds of scrap iron at $160 / ton. So that will pay for the new hydraulic hoses.
I’ve got corn tassling! It seems early.
And these flowers, which I only post because some of you got grumpy about them last year. : – )
Here’s the neighbors cows hanging out.
How now Brown Cow.
The boys helped me do some work at the Rep theater. We hauled out 30 old lighting fixtures that are not used anymore. I’d like to renovate these…create something funky out of them.
The rain predicted for Wednesday morning evaporated before it got here. We just got sprinkles. And it’s still rather cool. A bit under normal temps. Growing degree units are still above normal, thanks to the early spring. Corn is already knee high, so that’s good. It’s almost canopied meaning that will keep the weeds down. The soybeans are maybe 6″ tall. Long ways to go for canopy for them. The co-op sprayed the soybeans for weeds this week.
One of Kelly’s co-workers was in a bicycle accident and has broken her clavicle. Her collar bone. And you all know there’s not much to do about that. Strap it to your chest and go about your day. This woman was back at work two days later. Typing with one hand. She’s a very busy person in the first place, and she said she was home staring at the walls, so she may as well be at work. With one hand. Been there, done that.
I was at a business the other day, and the clerk was typing with her two pointer fingers. And I thought again, thank goodness for 11th grade typing class. And I chose that myself; Mom and Dad didn’t even push it on me. And back in the 1980’s I don’t know why I would have thought that? But good for me. Glad I did. I’m still trying to learn the numeric keyboard without looking at it. 559096 3940 175 5607259357028593164 That was me trying to type out some familiar numbers without looking. It’s 85% accurate… Not quite good enough for my accounting though.
My brother-in-law is missing his left pinky finger. He says the Q and Z aren’t a big deal, but he sure misses the A.
I had election judge training this week; regular and head judge. And since I’ve been doing this for 20 some years, there’s not much to keep it interesting. So I turned it into a game of judging their grammar. They talked about when your vote has been “casted“ really? Casted? And at one point she said something was done “correctionally”. I spent a long time thinking about that. Is correctionally a word? I wanted to look around the room and say ‘did you all hear that? Is that what she said’? One guy talked about the “Safe At Home” program, but it sure sounded like he was saying “Save At Home”. Hmmm… Call me judgemental.
The farm this week has been odds and ends. I threw out a bunch of wildflower seed expecting rain. So now I’m out there with the water tank in the back of the gator getting that watered– fingers crossed. I figured if I didn’t water, it wouldn’t rain, and if I did water it would, so I watered. And it worked! We got just over half an inch on Wednesday afternoon.
Monday evening the dogs were barking at something down in the feedroom. Kelly had gone down and opened the door but didn’t see anything. At one point, Luna came and literally got Kelly. Clearly indicating she needed to come back down there. I went down to get some corn and when I turned on the auger to load more feed into the wall bin, a raccoon climbed out the top of the bin. She bounced off my shoulder and tried to make a get away. And there was the dogs and this raccoon at my feet. I have had my close encounters with raccoons before and didn’t really need another. At least I didn’t scream like a little girl this time, I just tried to get out of the way. Corn auger is still running, corn is spilling on the floor. It was a whole big thing.
Padawan is at a(nother) new job, so Padawan 2 is coming out to help. He’s been around before and he’s a good kid, too. I took the mower off the lawn tractor, sharpened the blades, replaced a spindle, (the bearing supporting a blade), changed the oil in the tractor and cut more grass. P2 replaced a carburetor on our secondary lawn mower, and we worked together replacing a fuel line between the tank and the fuel pump. Although it’s still not running. Hmmm…. While he was doing the carburetor I replaced the sediment bowl on Kelly’s C tractor. And that still leaks too. Geez, batting zero on these projects. P2 had success replacing a door latch and gas strut on a tractor door. We moved stuff around in the shed and got the corn planter and grain drill parked away until next spring.
We spotted this big moth on a tree.
What is this? It was about 3 inches tall. Six legs, furry antenna. Maybe a Cecropia?
The summer festival season has kicked off. It was the 152 Annual Viola Gopher count on Wednesday and Thursday with a parade and fireworks and a street dance. Daughter’s group usually goes to the parade, but she wasn’t really interested. She told me only lazy people go to parades. I tried to explain I didn’t think that was exactly true, but I had trouble not giggling and she’s not interested in rational explanations anyway. She likes to move, not sit and watch a parade. We let her stay home.
It’s also Elgin Cheese Days Thursday – Sunday this week. Carnival rides, food trucks, and more dancing. I drove through Elgin on Thursday, on my way home from getting more parts in Plainview. There were a lot of garage sales, and two little girls selling earrings on a boulevard. And the local strawberry farm has fresh strawberries. Oh My Goodness they’re good. They make my knee’s buckle they’re so good.
Peas are being harvested and guys are planting soybeans following the peas.
I needed a few new farm shirts, so I dug to the back of the closet, found a couple with long sleeves I haven’t worn in years. Cut the sleeves off and they’re having a new life.
Driving home from Plainview, I heard Spike Jones singing “Chloe”. If the title doesn’t ring a bell for you, allow me: A phone rings, he answers, he says, “You don’t say. You DON’T say. You don’t say.” Hang’s up. The band says, “Who was it?” Spike replies, “He didn’t say.” Then later, phone rings again, same bit. Again they say “Who was it?” “Same guy.” Makes me laugh every time. I looked up the song on YouTube. Following Spike Jones was Cab Calloway and the Nicolas Brothers. Now those guys could dance!
Kelly is hosting a ‘movie on the farm’ night for her work people. The Residents and Fellows in the Pathology program come out and we do a bonfire and show a movie on the side of the crib. This will be the fourth year. First year got rained out. Second year was sparsely attended. Third year was in September and it was so cold and rainy we moved it into the shop and machine shed and showed the movie on the shop door. It was a good crowd and they all had a good time. This year looks like sunny but cool weather. She gave them a choice of movie and I haven’t heard what it will be yet. They do a popcorn machine, a root beer keg, they got vanilla ice cream, and the fixings for S’mores. P2 and I got out some tables, and straw bales for seating, cleaned out the garage, and he cut grass.
Husband attends a weekly men’s bible study at our church, and a man more elderly than Husband welcomed him and told him he had moved to a good county, as people here take care of each other.
I always knew that people here were good to one another, but this was really brought home to me by an article in the local paper last week that a private and county funded program was paying for outpatient mental health treatment for county residents with unaffordable deductibles or no insurance. There has been a 200% increase in residents using the program over the past year. Eligible residents only need to pay $25 per session for up to 10 sessions. As a mental health professional and county resident I am elated to hear this. I believe we will contribute to this fund.
Yesterday we attended the grand opening of the new butcher shop in town started with funds from a community group and owned and operated by the granddaughter of our former milk man. It is a wonderful place, and hundreds of people visited it and loved it.
Husband has signed up for a canoe/kayak day trip on the Rock River on June 13th sponsored by the Chamber of Comnerce. He is renting a canoe from the Chamber for the trip. The woman at the Chamber was so concerned that a canoe might be too much for him that she told him they will bring an extra kayak just in case he needs it. I am really happy we moved here!
What has your city or county done lately that makes you proud? What are your favorite charities and local help organizations?
Six months after our move into our home we continue to get mail addressed to the former owner. He still lives in town in a lovely refurbished apartment on Main Street just above his satellite communication business. I know it is lovely from the gossip of some electricians who were at our home and had been in the previous owners’ new place.
I always let him know when we get his mail. Sometimes he picks it up. Sometimes his elderly mom picks it up. She lives one block from us. About a month ago we received the property tax statement for his Main Street property along with some other mail from a finance company. I could tell what it was since the property tax envelope had been conveniently torn enough in transit for me to peek inside. I let him know via text that we had it. He texted that he was currently in Arizona and would pick it up when he got back to town in early April.
I saw him in his Jeep last week as I was going to the grocery store. He still hasn’t phoned to pick up his mail. I decided I am not going to remind him. The more we learn about him and his ways of dealing with things I think that he has been cossetted and coddled far too much by this community, and if his property taxes are delinquent, well, that may be a good lesson for him.
What natural consequences have you seen people deal with? What natural consequences have you experienced?
I sent a couple emails last week that I probably shouldn’t have. My brain was filled with too many other things and I was having trouble forming a coherent thought and missing details, which I have trouble with on a good day. One email I just said right up front “this is all a jumble and I’m sorry about that. See if it makes sense.” The other email I had to send a clarification follow up.
It’s a crazy time.
Like, when isn’t it.
Been busy at both the college and home. It helps when spring isn’t so early. Course then I fuss it’s late. We open the college show next Thursday, so I’m in the final week of painting and tweaking things. Working on lighting and fixing all the little things I forgot I told the director I’d have. I’ve had Padawan coming in to help me. He needs something to do anyway and I can give him life advice while we’re at it. And then I go home and work in the shop for a while. I sure am glad I added the outside lights. I’ve used them a few times this week.
Read an article today about increasing fertilizer prices. (due to the Iran … “Conflict”.) USDA Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins says farmers have pre-purchased 80% of their spring nutrient needs. The article I was reading did an informal survey and they got a 65% response to having pre-purchased. Thirty three percent have most of it purchased, and it’s just what’s needed for the final spring decisions. Only 2% said they haven’t purchased anything. All prices are up of course. I pre-purchased everything in December, and I’m sure the co-op has a lot of it on hand already. But jeepers. I’ll bet there’s gonna be fuel surcharges if nothing else. I mean how can you plan for these kinda jumps??
I’ve seen the sewage treatment plant trucks out applying / injecting waste …”sludge”? on fields. Did you ever think about that? You flush the toilet, it’s gone, right? But gone where? At our house, to the septic tank. And then the liquids go to the drain field and every few years we dig up the cover and have the solids pumped out of the tank. (I wrote about that last fall when we had a taller cover installed on the tank. See : https://trailbaboon.com/2025/08/16/what-mystery-is-this/ )
I’m not sure how the city plant works, I’ve never asked. I know our township doesn’t allow for applying sludge. Well, technically it’s “allowed”, but you have to get a license and pay $10 / acre to apply it. So the farmers in our township don’t do it. Some of the township supervisors created that rule quite a few years ago because they didn’t know what risks might be associated with spreading the sludge.
I took some time Monday afternoon and moved machinery around and took the stuff I put inside for winter, back outside. Like the scrap iron tote. I hooked the soil finisher to the big tractor. I got the flat trailer hooked to the truck and loaded up some scrap iron so I could get that hauled in because I needed the trailer to pick up seed and it had scrap on it from last winter. I worked in the shop until 10:00 PM. Got three of the new LED headlights on the 6410. There are three plastic clips on the old lights, that aren’t supposed to be removable. I managed. Cut my finger, again, with the grinder.
A couple weeks ago I grazed the 8” bench grinder wheel with a knuckle. The next week I hit the wire wheel of the bench grinder with a different finger. Just took the skin off. And this time was my left index finger with the 4” hand grinder. They don’t hurt at the time it happens, it hurts for the next week.
Scars, right? Yeah, some scar stories are better than others…
A burn on my thumb, a fresh cut on the finger, and the healed one you can’t hardly see anymore. Oh, there’s some red paint too.
Wednesday I hauled that scrap in and went to pick up seed oats. The guys at the seed house weren’t so sure about the guys who were out there planting oats before the blizzard. That made me feel a little better. Got 50 bags of oat seed. Worked at the college until 7PM, then home and got the seed wagon in the shop and got Kelly’s C tractor running. Unload the oats using the loader and pallet forks. Another late night and glad to have those outside lights.
Last Saturday was a gala at the Rep theater announcing next seasons shows. I got to give a little welcome speech. That’s fun. I appreciate that I’m comfortable talking in front of people.
Showing how I’m running lights through the phone remote.
The chicks are a week old now. We’ve lost some, it always happens.
And this second chicken that’s moved into the garage and is nesting in this basket…
I have ordered Oat fertilizer to be applied, that should happen either late Friday or Saturday. If we get enough rain to soak it in that’s fine, and if it doesn’t rain and I can get out with the digger, that works too.
The wind on Wednesday. Jeepers. This is why I’m glad we live in a valley. A few tree’s blew over in the fields. Always something. I’ll add it to my to-do list.
