I learned frugality at my mother’s knee so sometimes it’s hard for me to part with my hard-earned cash. I have a good friend who sometimes gives me grief about this. Her view of life is all about CPU… cost per use. If she purchases something and then uses it a lot, the CPU gets smaller and smaller. She taught this life view to YA early on, so I am exposed to the theory on a fairly regular basis.
The one place I have been good at applying CPU is with the Minnesota Zoo. I have an annual membership so when YA and I go to the zoo, we don’t have to pay anything. It’s obviously not free but it feels free at the time. We go enough that the annual membership is less than the full price and parking we would have to pay.
I have another friend who has been a supporter of the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum for many years and have always urged me to get a membership. But at $60 I knew I’d have to go at least 4 times a year to justify the CPU. This past spring, this friend called me to tell me that the Arb was having a membership sale. Just $30 for the annual membership. Right up my alley.
Now that I don’t have to pay every time I go, I’ve been to the Arb a few times. Twice this summer I even parked myself in one or another garden with a good book. In October they had their annual Scarecrow exhibit so last weekend, I made some space in my Saturday and headed out. I strolled about, checking out how things are changing now that the big blooms of spring and summer are over. (I even got a gardening tip; I noticed that in the Peony garden, they have chopped the peonies back. This is not something I have ever done but the afternoon after my visit, I chopped all my own back!)
The scarecrows were a lot of fun. Most of them were up on the hill and it was almost like a fall festival – lots of kids and lovely autumn displays – not to mention a gorgeous sunny day. I normally take the tram ride but since it’s done for the season, I drove slowly along the Three Mile Drive myself with Enya playing on my phone. I’m sure it’s the lowest my blood pressure has been for years! They were starting to put up the lights for the Winter Lights Walk so as soon as I got home, I ordered tickets for that. The CPU will be seriously low this year.
I was thinking as I enjoyed my day that even if they raise the price of membership on me next year, I’ll probably renew anyway.
Husband and I were struck by how quiet it was as we travelled to South Dakota on Saturday. It is a remote area, so there never is much traffic, but it seemed as though there was much less than normal. We saw herds of cattle and sheep, a few mule deer, and some eagles, but people were absent. Wheat had been harvested, and hay was put up. There were a few fields of unharvested sunflowers. There wasn’t much activity at any of the farmsteads that were close enough to the road for us to see. It was as though everyone was inside taking it easy.
Husband commented that the weeks between the middle of October until Thanksgiving in November is his favorite time of year. Everything seems to slow down. There isn’t much snow, the garden is done, and we have time to sit and breathe after a busy summer and fall. Yesterday I was able to take stock of my Christmas baking supplies (I needed glacéed citron, orange peel, lemon peel, and cherries, as well as sliced almonds for Stollen). As a child, I suppose that December was my favorite month because of Christmas, but now I appreciate a time that I can stay home and be a little more still. We have decided to not put up a Christmas tree this year, as we will not have any company and are spending Christmas in South Dakota with our son and his family. That will make for a more peaceful December.
What are your favorite times of year?Got any holiday plans in the works?
I love Halloween. Admittedly I love lots of holidays and special occasions. (I sent cards to a few people on National Eat a Peach Day this year.)
We used to decorate a lot more but the current terrorist tabby and devil dog make indoor décor a little difficult. For many years YA and had ghosts playing ring-a-round the rosy out front and some years we’ve had spider webs adorning the front evergreen. I always do a cornstalk and usually a few days before Halloween, I get pumpkins (if I get them sooner, the squirrels just eat them).
Then on the night of Halloween I put out my luminaries. I made these when YA was little (and I couldn’t afford to buy décor). Mandarin orange tin cans painted orange and then stamped with pumpkins and black cats and eerie clouds – then I punched holes in them with a hammer and nail. (I filled them with water and frozen them first – made it much easier to punch the holes.)
I love seeing trick-or-treaters and when YA was little, we used to have quite a number. As the years went by, it’s gotten less and less. From what I’ve read, this is common everywhere, not just my street. Of course, pandemic threw a monkey wrench into trick-or-treating. Last year I put candies into little bags with orange ribbon 3 weeks before Halloween, wore a mask and held the bowl out as far as I could. I only have to do this three times; only four trick-or-treaters last year. It was very sad.
When I saw the “Candy Map” app on a Nextdoor thread, I asked YA about it. You put your address in indicating you’ll be open for business on Halloween night so all the little zombies and princesses can find you. I don’t know if it will bring more costumes to the door but we decided to give it a try. I went ahead and filled little bags again this year – I did twelve. I’d love it if I have to quickly fill more bags but even if I give out twelve, it will be three times more than last year.
A cherished tradition among outdoor sportsmen is sharing experiences with a special buddy. People can, of course, have fun while hunting, camping, canoeing or fishing alone. Yet most outdoor sportsmen much prefer experiencing those activities with a soul mate. Traditionally, that outdoor buddy has been male, but one of the loveliest trends is the interest women are now showing in outdoor pursuits.
I’ve had several outstanding outdoor buddies. Early in my marriage I introduced my wife to outdoor sports, and she became a treasured partner during outdoor adventures. Our friend Jerry had a kinky sense of humor that made him a favorite companion. Jan, so athletic and intelligent, became a frequent fishing partner after her husband’s death. And then there was Dick, the perfect partner for me, right down to the fact we both were writers. Alas, Dick accepted a job in Washington shortly after we met, so that partnership died almost before it was born.
Meanwhile, the young man I spent the most time with outdoors was Bill. Bill is the smartest and most universally competent man I’ve met. He can fly an airplane, pilot a sailboat, paddle a canoe, drive a team of sled dogs, and walk forever. Like me, Bill dives into outdoor sports with more zeal than is prudent. In Grand Marais, where he practiced medicine for decades, Bill was regarded the most accomplished angler in the county. And when outdoor trips get challenging, as some inevitably do, Bill is a good sport.
And yet Bill and I were so fundamentally unlike each other that our friendship was improbable. Bill has a temper. I do not. He frequently becomes obsessive-compulsive, which is the opposite of loosey-goosie me. Bill overplans, whereas I’m sloppy and trusting to a fault. Bill has been described as “controlling,” a word nobody ever applied to me. We’re just different.
Even so, Bill and I share a great deal of history. I met him at the University of Minnesota fifty-four years ago. Together we have experienced marriage, divorce, childbirth and the too-short lifespans of many wonderful dogs. We’ve suffered horrific weather in seven states and three Canadian provinces, nearly dying a time or two when we took chances prudent men would never take. I’ve seen the worst of Bill, and he’s seen the worst of me.
And yet I kept hoping to find the perfect partner I’d always dreamed of, the partner I had in Dick before fate determined we would live a thousand miles apart.
I remember the night Bill told me about a steelhead fishing trip he had taken with other friends to a wilderness park in Ontario. Bill described sitting in a camp chair, sipping scotch while the Milky Way lit up the sky over the big lake. Bill said, “It was so beautiful! And I thought, ‘Gee, this couldn’t be more perfect . . . <i>except if Steve were here.’</i>”
That line hit me like a blow to the solar plexus. I reflected on times Bill and I had laughed and cried together over our long friendship. I realized that I had been pining for an ideal outdoor buddy although I already had found him, long, long ago. And oddly enough, after all our time together it seems I have become a bit like Bill, just as he has become more like me. In view of how imperfect I am, I can only shake my head about my silly drive to find a perfect partner. I’m lucky to have the partner I have.
Have you ever looked for something you already had? Do you have a friend who is your natural partner in a favorite hobby? What qualities distinguish your best friend? Do you prefer hanging out with someone just like you, or do you enjoy the sizzle of a friendship that flourishes in spite of differences?
For one thing, I am amazed that a walnut tree could be so prolific. I am also pretty impressed by the tenacity and single mindedness of the squirrel. I truly can understand this from the squirrel’s point of view. I don’t know what it is about having fresh produce, but every time we swear that this is the last tomato or eggplant or green bean we will pick, Husband and I automatically start to think of new ways to use them or preserve the ones that still are coming. We give what we can to the food pantry, but they are only open two days a week.
Husband picked a bunch of Spanish Giant sweet red peppers yesterday, and swore that he was going to pull up the plants. He didn’t, though, as he decided that would be wasteful. So, here I am, watering the garden again as it is going to be in the 80’s this week, because the peppers and tomatoes are loaded with fruits yet to ripen. The lack of a killing frost has made the garden last far longer than usual. I made two spanakopita on Saturday using up three pounds of our garden spinach leaves. There is a feverishness to harvest. Sometimes I think we are nuts with our garden. I lay the blame on our parents and grandparents.
How did growing up with Great Depression-era parents impact you? When have you been industrious? Got any good squirrel stories?
Good grief. Is it pumpkin spice season already? Is there no product that is not marketed at this time of year without pumpkin spice? Coffee creamer. Pancake mix. Syrup. Oreos. Cookie dough. Chocolates. Candles. And of course the ubiquitous muffins, lattes and breads. Even if I liked pumpkin, this is just an onslaught. Every year!
Tell me what you like about autumn. (Or don’t like.)
I’m almost to the final chapter of my adventure with the Forestry Department of Minneapolis. Back in April, we came home to see our two ash trees in the very back of the yard splashed with green lettering. Someone had painted our trees. Having lived through the city’s Dutch Elm debacle (plant thousands, wait too long when it’s clear something is amiss, cut down every one regardless of health, give citizens little to no notice), I was pretty sure this was the end of our ash trees. Despite knowing for the last two years that this was coming it was a little sad nonetheless.
The green paint was followed by a form left on our front door stating that the city required the trees be removed (of course at my expense) and that they would be collecting quotes from various tree services on our behalf. I called the Forestry department twice when we didn’t hear anything for a few weeks; at the end of the second call, the department representative made it all too clear that I was to await the letter than would eventually show up and not to call again.
All summer I’ve looked out the back to see my green-trunked trees, impatiently waiting for the Forestry department to get on with it. Finally the first week of August we got a letter. The city had to get a special quote because of where our trees were located on the property line. At the end of the letter they listed two different quotes. One was for $3,500. The other was for $18,000 – this is NOT a typo. This time when I called the city, I got a more helpful person. She sighed when I squawked about the 18 grand figure and said she wished that the companies would just say they didn’t want the business. I was a little concerned that some computer somewhere would assign this company to me but she said I could fill out the postcard that accompanied the last letter with that request. I told her that I would like to get my own quote – and after a bit, she acquiesced and said I could write that on the postcard as well.
Well, my tree guy came in at half the price (of the lower figure) and is including grinding out the stumps. They were here yesterday and the whole job, including avoiding all the powerlines and doing all the clean up took less than two hours. I’m still in shock about the $18,000 quote.
Had a good rainshower Monday afternoon. One of those downpours where traffic slows, and windshield wipers are on high. I could see it coming, I was several miles from home and the sky was dark and I was hitting Every. Red. Light. At one point there was some pea size hail, just a few stones, and I was considering my odds… can I make it home? Where should I park otherwise? But I thought I could make it. (Risk taker, remember?)
And then I could see the rain coming. Boy, just a few times in my life I’ve been in rain that heavy. Thankfully only lasted a mile or so. We ended up with .87”. Thankfully no hard winds with it in our area. I did hear reports of funnel clouds in other areas.
Rain like that in the fall is tough; the crops don’t really need it anymore, and the weather is cool enough it doesn’t dry as fast as it would mid-summer. The corn is tall enough the sun can’t hit the soil and it stays wet for a week. And it just makes harvest harder because now there’s mud to deal with. So, we’ll see how that goes.
I was out checking crops last evening and I noticed that fall smell in the air. The beans are coming along. I saw several farmers out harvesting soybeans in the area today. Soybean pods are fussy; they dry out in the late morning or afternoon, but they’ll pick up moisture after dark or with the dew. Plants along the edge of the field might still be soft and mushy, but the rest of the field is dry, and the pods crack open easy, which is what you need to harvest. The corn is still looking good, it’s roughly 30% moisture which means the ears haven’t tipped down yet. Too much rain and it gets down inside the husk and can cause mold issues on the kernels. Once the corn dries more and the ears tip down, rain won’t cause mold issues.
After the discussion last week on PTO shafts, I was thinking about how some other things have changed.
Hooking up wagons or implements is different these days. One of the greatest inventions is the extendable wagon hitch. LIFECHANGING! Back when tractors were smaller and didn’t have cabs, it was easy to just look over your shoulder and you were almost looking right down at the hitch (called a drawbar) so backing up to a wagon was easy and we got real good at getting lined up so the hitch pin would drop right in. And the tractor or wagon was small enough we could nudge it a little bit to make the connection.
With a cab, sightlines changed and sometimes it’s harder to see the hole in the drawbar, so it was harder to get lined up right. Some people have added mirrors to the rear window so when the window is open, it allows one to see the hitch. (I need to do that on one of my tractors).
But now, with extendable hitches, as long as we get close, we can extend the wagon hitch to connect it, then we back up and it locks back into place. It’s wonderful! Especially when hooking a wagon to another implement, so I’m guessing where that hitch is way back there; the extendable tongues are life savers!
I remember the first wagon Dad bought with an extendable hitch. It was a remarkable thing.
Hitch pins too – at first, they were just pieces of straight rod with a washer welded on the top. Or even a large bolt if you were desperate. But again, machinery got bigger.
I made a couple hitch pins in high school welding class; that’s where I learned about hardening and how to temper them so they didn’t wear out so fast.
I had no idea I had so many hitch pins until I got them all together for this photo.
Then seed dealers started giving away hitch pins with an ACTUAL HANDLE on the top! That was another wonderful revelation! Course, on a hill it was easy for that hitch back there to drag on the ground and push the hitch pin right out. I ran one wagon through a fence and down into the calf pen when the pin came out… didn’t break anything or lose any bales, just the wagon. (And had to fix the fence). Lost the pin on the grain drill one day and didn’t notice until I got home and didn’t have a drill behind me anymore. One time the anhydrous tank came unhooked from the applicator. Knew that right away and thank goodness I was on flat ground and thanks goodness for the safety disconnect valve that separated. But getting it all hooked back up again was a struggle.
If you wanted to be safe, you put a clip in the hole at the bottom of the pin. If there WAS a hole for a clip. IF it stayed when going through cornstalks. Again, tractors and implements have gotten bigger Now I use locking pins that might be 5/8” or even 7/8” diameter. And the big tractor has something called a ‘Hammerstrap’ hitch that’s about 1 1/2” diameter. And it will actually drop itself in! (if I back up straight and hit the hitch of the implement just right. It works pretty well and it makes me laugh when It does).
In this photo the PTO shaft is the round thing above the hitch. Bigger tractors might have a pin as big as your wrist. If you imagine the pull on these machines when they’re in the ground, you can imagine why they might need a pin this big.
Duck Report. The three older ones and the younger ones are just starting to hang out together. And nobody goes in the pen anymore; they just hang out down here by the pond.
I saw a duck get a little air the other day… just a few feet, but I’ll bet it’s coming soon.
What do you remember changing your life? What’s coming soon for you?
We had some friends and their kids visit and we had a good time giving tractor rides and gator rides and collecting eggs and seeing cows. It’s always fun giving farm tours.
I finally got around to working on the brush mower. I had to order bigger sockets to get the nut off the broken spindle on the big spinny thing. (It’s 45mm by the way) And then trying to get the gear box off the mower deck, I didn’t have the right size sockets for that either. It’s 30mm. I am getting more and more metric tools, but I didn’t have anything that big. I have a 3/8” drive socket set that I use for a lot of things. And a 1/2” drive set for some of the bigger stuff. And then I started buying 3/4” drive stuff for the really big stuff. (I mean the size of the square on the head of the ratchet is 3/8” or 1/2” or 3/4”). Then I put a 3’ long pipe over the handle to get enough leverage to get the nuts loose. Took the gear box up to John Deere for them to fix.
How’s that go: Every job is an opportunity for a new tool. Worked here.
On the way home from John Deere I stopped at a farm stand and bought 4 dozen ears of sweet corn. A couple kids run this stand and it is really good corn. Got that frozen and it will be really good this winter.
My mom has a possible Covid exposure from one of her physical therapy people. I had seen her on Sunday, and she found that out on Monday. But she hasn’t tested positive herself yet and they all wear masks and mom is vaccinated and I’d think the PT person was too. So hopefully she stays good. She needs to isolate in her room, which she isn’t very happy about. And her food comes in a Styrofoam container with plastic cutlery and that’s her biggest complaint. We had a care conference Tuesday and there seems to be exceptions for everything so she’s gotten real plates now. Hope that keeps up.
Monday was Labor Day and I wondered if I should really take the day off or do some work. If I didn’t do anything I’d feel guilty. I took a nap first off. But then decided to clean up the swather and get that put away. I washed it off and oiled the chains, loosened some belts, and filled the gas tank and added some ‘Stabil’ to the fuel, and tucked it into the shed for winter.
Then decided it was a good day to burn a small brush pile behind the shed. Got that burning and cut some grass while keeping an eye on it.
We’re having a little experiment with the ducks. When they go into the pen at night, they can either walk up a ramp or they can hop up onto a block and then into the open door. Most of them seem to hop in. One day I had not put the ramp in the door, it was sitting down on the block. Everyone had gone in except one black duck and two brown ducks. They were very distressed to be outside on their own and I finally went down and put the ramp up and one brown duck went up the ramp and the other two hopped in from the block. Hmm, were the other two moral support for the ramp duck?
This is very curious, so the next night I also left the ramp down and everyone had gotten in except a black duck and a brown duck. I put the ramp back up and both ducks hopped in without using the ramp. The third night I put the ramp in the door right away. About dusk everyone heads over to the door and the white ducks always go first and hop on the block and up into the door. Might take them two tries, but they make it. Eventually the ones waiting got tired of waiting in line and they all went and got a drink and then came back and some more hopped in, and again, the remaining few got tired of the queue, went and got another drink and then came back and no one used the ramp and everyone hopped in. Evidently the ramp is more emotional support or a guide? It’s very interesting.
FOURTH NIGHT! I had the ramp up and I watched closer; they seem to use the ramp as a guide rail. A few actually use it, some bump against the side while hopping in, and some jump up onto the ramp about 1/2 way up. Very curious. And when they come out in the morning, it’s last in, first out.
When I got home one day, all the ducks were out of their pen. We’d been talking about letting them out; they’re old enough and big enough, but being ‘adolescent’, they don’t always make the best choices and we lose a few to coyotes. That day they found a hole – or maybe ‘made’ a hole and they were all close, just on the wrong side of the fence. It wasn’t too hard to round them up, patch the hole, and get them all back inside. And then I noticed one of the white ones has a wound under one wing. Neither Kelly or I were working from home that day which makes me wonder; maybe a coyote came in the yard and caused a commotion which is what scared them out. Kelly says every day around noon there is some kind of commotion, and the dogs bark and guineas get upset so there’s something going on.
I showed Kelly how to fire the rifle and the next day, when the noon commotion began, she fired a shot. We never see anything, but we’re trying to scare it– whatever “it” is– away. Kelly really wants to shoot a coyote but she’s having trouble making the scope work for her. She is just hoping for plain, dumb luck. And she’s going to work on firing from the hip.
Chickens; they get into the ducks pen, but they can’t ever figure out how to get back out…
BONUS! Two Sandhill Cranes standing in the field when I left for work the other day.
There has been a pair here all summer, we don’t see them, we only hear them. I’m guessing this is another pair passing through.
Can you fire from the hip? And accomplish what you are trying to accomplish?
I made my annual pilgrimage out to the farm for raspberries last week. Beautiful day for picking – sunny and not too warm. A little muggy from the big rain the two days before but after our dry summer, I am NOT complaining about rain.
Since I was the first one out in the field, they stationed me at the far southeast corner of the biggest patch of canes. Pretty shortly after, they started to put someone opposite me (on the other side of the line of cane I was working on) and she protested that she didn’t want “to be near anybody else”. I told her I didn’t take it personally and that I had a mask in pocket if needed. She moved on to another line.
An older couple were then placed opposite of me. They didn’t even look toward me and so I knew there wasn’t going to be any chatting. (This turned out to be OK because pretty soon a VERY chatty woman started picking two lines away and even thought she was speaking to the folks near her, I could hear her clearly!)
I expected that the couple across from me would move ahead of me fairly quickly. Two people picking together are always faster than just one. Except this time! The gentleman stayed pretty even with me and the woman lagged behind. This was so different from what I usually experience that I started to pay a little more attention to them. The woman was digging thoroughly through the canes, clearly searching for every single viable berry she could find. The gentleman was not as thorough. I soon realized that another reason they were slow was the amount of time spent moving their hands from the canes to their mouths. The farm does encourage folks to taste while they pick, but this couple was taking it to new heights. They quit picking before I did with less than a flat of picked berries and I’m sure it’s because they were full!
So far I’ve made my freezer jam, added raspberries to pancake batter and, of course, enjoyed fresh raspberry shortcake!
Trail Baboon 