Husband had just finished mowing the lawn on Monday when two boys, looking to be about 11 or 12, came by offering to mow for us. They had their own mower. Husband explained he had just finished mowing, but they would certainly be welcome in the future to do it for us. Their asking price was reasonable.
I never had a “business” as a kid, unless you count babysitting. Girls in Luverne didn’t hire out to do lawn work back then. The boys who came by on Monday looked energetic and excited. There aren’t as many older people in the neighborhood as there used to be, so I hope they don’t get discouraged if they don’t get as much business as they hoped.
Husband has arthritis in his hands. I am having increased mobility issues with chronic sciatica, probably caused by lumbar scoliosis. I can see us hiring more yard work done in the future.
Did you have a business as a kid? What tasks do you see yourself hiring others to do in the future? If you were 12 right now, what business would you start?
The house next door has sold and my neighbors are moving out this weekend. Just by chance, I was out front gardening on both the days that there was an open house, so I actually got to talk to quite a few folks who had walked through. The question that almost everyone asked was how it was to live on my street, which is a busy thoroughfare – in fact, it’s a county road as opposed to a city street.
Everybody got the same answer. I love living on my busy street – it’s easy to get to, easy to get out and around. During the winter, my street is always clear; the plows start early and are consistent. Even when side streets are still snowed in, we can always get out.
The other great thing is that you can get rid of anything by just putting it down on the boulevard. You don’t even have to put a “free” sign on it – if it’s on the boulevard, it’s fair game. Two summers ago, the house across the street was almost gutted and their boulevard was like a second-hand store for three or four weeks. I thought maybe there might be a traffic accident one day because so many people were pulling over to look and grab. Over the years I’ve put out a lot of items and the only thing that never got taken was a mattress (which makes sense) – but the city took it on trash day anyway.
The surprise this week is that someone stopped during the day yesterday and took all the little logs and all but two of the bundles of sticks that YA and I had put on the boulevard after the first day of our “tree adventure”. We didn’t put them out because we thought anybody would want them, but because that’s where they need to be for the city pick-up. But, what the heck – if these little logs and bundles will make somebody’s life better – whoopee.
Of course, I wonder why they didn’t take ALL the bundles. Maybe they didn’t have room in the car? Maybe they have just so much room back home to store the bundles? Maybe there were two of them and they weren’t aligned on whether to take any of them? Hopefully it didn’t start a fight. I also wonder if they’ll come back at some point for the last two. Or will somebody else take them? Maybe I should just put out a table instead of schlepping things to Value Village and GoodWill? I could call it Boulevard Freecycle?
Do you live on a busy or quiet street? Have you ever had a great garage sale?
When I went to bed Monday night, after uploading yesterday’s post, I was doing a mental run-through of things to get done on Tuesday.
The biggie was the tree so I was thinking about what I would need to bring up to my bedroom: extension cord for the trimmer, the trimmer, a rake to shake loose any bits that get stuck.
Then, because it was dark and I was very tired, my brain went a little sideways. I thought maybe I should be sure to wear shorts with pockets so I could have my phone on me, in case I somehow fell off the roof. If my phone were in my pocket I could call for help right away, rather than try to drag my broken body into the house.
As if that weren’t enough then I started thinking about the chewed up tree that I would be falling onto. If I skewered myself, the phone probably wouldn’t do much good. Or what if I hit my head on the way down and bled out while unconscious. All my neighbors work during the day, so they couldn’t come to my aid either.
It was at this point, around 11 p.m., that I made the decision to forego climbing out on the roof to trim the tree from above. Sleep, which had been eluding me while I imagined my gruesome end, came fast at that point. My decision was solidified when it rained at 5:30 a.m. and then again around noon, and the roof was wet. If only Mother Nature had informed me sooner I would have had a better night’s sleep!
YA has lots of opinions about the house and yard. Granted, she does do quite a bit of work on both, but the bottom line is that I’m still doing a good 80%. So when she gets a bee in her bonnet, I don’t always jump to attention.
She’s been nagging me for about three years to get rid of the tree in the front of house. To her credit, it’s in awful shape, and has gotten tall enough that it pretty much blocks all the sunlight to the front porch and some of my room as well. But I don’t want to have a whole bunch of projects going at once (actually, this drives me to distraction) so I’ve been putting her off. For two years I was able to use the “not until the front porch is done” knowing full well that the last couple of steps were hers. Unfortunately she did finally finish her little bits and now I can no longer use the excuse.
Smart people would have hired a tree guy, but I think the last 20 years have shown that we don’t always have smart people at our house. So we purchased a new chainsaw (the old one died last summer) and got to work yesterday. For the most part, it went well but as always happens with a big job, it’s much bigger than we thought. As you can see from the photo below, we still have a chunk to go but after 7 hours, both of us were really running out of steam so we decided to call it a day and go to Dairy Queen.
The good news is that YA and I are truly aligned when it comes to how we like to get things done. We like to clean up as we go – neither of us likes a big mess at the end. So each big branch that came down, we chopped it up, filling yard bags and making bundles of little logs and branches. So as we were getting worn out, we didn’t have a massive amount of clean up to do. The header photo is what’s on the boulevard for yesterday’s work.
The biggest issue now is finding time to tackle the rest of the job, since the weekend is over and YA has to work this week. I can work on the ground level and maybe even do a bit of cutting back from the roof outside my bedroom, but the actual cutting of that last two branches will take both of us. And probably some ropes and rakes to try to get the branches to fall where we want them to. I’ve had experience with this part going wrong in the past, so I don’t want to attempt it alone. YA thinks she can get an afternoon off in a couple of days. Fingers crossed.
What was the last project that really took it out of you?
We’re coming up on the 10th anniversary of the baboons taking over the Trail. The math is pretty straightforward. 6 posts a week times 52 weeks a year times 10 years. 3120. That’s not exact but close enough for horseshoes.
I think Renee and Ben would agree with me that the QUESTION is the hardest part of writing so many posts. What question relates to what you just wrote? How many times have we asked a similar question. Will the question lead to some good discussion during the day? Will it be too hard to answer? Too personal to answer? Too inane to answer?
Richard Feynman once said “I would rather have questions that can’t be answered than answers that can’t be questioned.” That’s all fine and good for a world-renown physicist but he never had to come up with a good question every day!
So here’s your chance to beat Richard Feynman at his own game.
We’ve had about 2 inches of rain between Tuesday and Wednesday. It was a nice easy rain and much needed. The first of the corn that I planted is up, Oats is filling in nicely, other than one field that looks terrible. I’m not sure what’s going on there. Other than it was corn last year and the other fields were soybeans last year. So, they worked up different, or I don’t know what. But I think I’m gonna replant part of this one. It’s just a terrible looking stand and it’s right along the road so it embarres me to think the neighbors will judge me.
The rows that end up in the track of the tractor tire never come up quite as fast as the other rows. I think because the soil gets packed down by the tire, and I’ve always thought I need some kind of tiny digger teeth behind the tractor to refresh that dirt. Mounting something is the easy part, trying to figure out how to make it raise and lower is harder, But I really need to figure out something.
I did finish planting corn last Saturday. Had a couple minor repairs I was able to fix in the field. One loose bolt, and one broken chain link. Good thing I had a spare chain link. There was a pheasant pair running around in this field.
I spent Monday riding in a big truck, being the navigator as a company applied calcium chloride as dust control on our Township gravel roads. It’s a thing we do annually. We finished that about 3:00 PM and I went to Plainview John Deere and picked up a new rear wiper arm for a tractor. Would you believe 120 bucks for that! And then to Meyer seed’s and picked up soybean seed.
Tuesday and Wednesday were meetings at the college.
Thursday was the visitation for mom, and Friday was her memorial service.
Saturday I have a set up meeting at one theater, an event at the college, and the ‘cousins Reunion’ at my sisters house. The kids are the cousins, Kelly and I are the fun, cool Aunt and Uncle. Even a couple Grand Neices we’re excited to see again – or for the first time.
It’s been fun to have all the nieces and nephews in town. They’re all pretty cool people.
Back in April I ordered a ton of egg layer ration from the co-op. Forty, fifty-pound bags on a pallet. They put it in the truck with a fork lift, I use the loader and forks to take it out of the truck and put it in the feed room. Works great.
Got the first bag out the other day, and it’s meal, rather than pellets. Hmm, not sure about that. Turns out the chickens are not fans… I didn’t know I needed to specify pellets; it’s just always been pellets.
I called the co-op to see about exchanging this. Due to bio-security, they don’t usually return feeds. Plus they’re going to stop making pellets. Hmm. But she was going to check into this. Haven’t heard back yet. Plan B will be to buy bags of pellets from Fleet Farm and mix into it I guess. A ton of layer rations last me 11 months. This could take a while…
Yesterday I had to send off a package to my friend in Nashville. She broke her ankle in two places while traveling in Italy and had surgery today (she came home for this). Post-surgery she’s staying with her son who lives just a few miles from her.
I, of course, sent off a card immediately but wanted to do a bit more. My friend has a soft spot for the Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and I’m sure her son won’t think to toss them into the shopping cart when he gets groceries. So I got a couple of boxes, boxed them up and headed for the post office.
It was a little busy when I was there and it was surprising that there was a supervisor who kept coming out to say “thanks for your patience, we’ll be with you….” I’ve never experienced that before. Then I heard the postal worker next to mine say that they didn’t have any stamps. I was sure I had heard that wrong, but my postal worker confirmed… no stamps. She said that the manager who “unlocks” the stamps hadn’t come in yet. I couldn’t help laughing, although I did try to suppress my giggles in case anybody else in line needed stamps.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it and it reminded me of the gas shortage in the 1973 with the long lines. And of course, it made me remember the toilet paper “crisis” at the beginning of covid. But for some reason, the post office not having stamps strikes me as the weirdest. Why does only one manager have the key? Why hadn’t that manager come in; if not able, why hasn’t someone driven to his/her place to get the key? I suppose I’ll never know.
What other shortages have you survived? What strategies did you use? Did snack cakes help?
Ever since all the news regarding the tariffs that 47 has been threatening, I noticed that our kitchen and larder are full of imported foods. From the Swedish lingonberry preserves to the Maille Cornichons from France, to the arborio rice and the huge half wheel of wonderful parmesan we get once a year from an Italian importer, to the Spanish fire-roasted jars of pepper, the chorizo and cheese from northern Spain, and canned paella fish broth, the world is well represented in our cooking. Heck, yesterday we got Salvadoran crema for enchiladas at the lovely little Mexican grocery store downtown. (It is sweeter and less acidic than crema from Honduras).
We are particularly fussy about our olive oil. Our favorite for years had been a Turkish olive oil we usually get at a Syrian grocery store in Fargo. We have branched out into some lovely Spanish olive oil that is more delicate than the Turkish oil, and is great in dressings. The Turkish oil is an important staple for us, and its cost has gone up in the last few years. Last week I started worrying about even greater increases with the tariffs, so I ordered two 1 gallon cans of it. It arrived yesterday and won’t expire until late in 2026.
I think my Dutch ancestors would approve my being proactive and potentially saving some money. I don’t forsee too much more panic purchases, at least I hope not. I know these worries are paltry compared to those of the millions of people who struggle with food insecurity, but they still weigh, and the more money we have for food banks, the better. Some call us foodies. Husband says we have a radical food ministry.
What imported foods do you buy? How do you see your spending changing?
Today is an aviation milestone day. In 1927 Charles Lindbergh landed his Spirit of St. Louis plane in Paris after his 33½ hour solo flight across the Atlantic. Then five years later on this day, Amelia Earhart landed near Londonderry, Northern Ireland after the first trans-Atlantic solo flight by a woman. The combination of a little shorter route and five years of advancing technology, it only took her 17 hours.
My first thought when I saw these two feats on the same day was that it was a concidence, but it was only a fleeting thought. I’d bet money that Amelia planned her flight very carefully to arrive in Europe on May 21.
It does make me think about explorers and adventurers who put their lives on the line because I don’t care how talented Lindbergh and Earhart were, they were absolutely taking their lives in their hands when they took off. Aviation was still a relatively young science, machines broke down at an alarming rate and then there’s the whole “across the ocean” thing.
Personally I’m not a daredevil. The scariest things I’ve ever done were hot-air ballooning in Africa and zip lining in Costa Rica. The balloon experience came available on a Fam trip (which is a trip that hotels/suppliers pay for in the hopes that travel industry folks will then sell their products); I just had a feeling that this would be a once-in-a-lifetime thing and I should get over my fears and do it. It was fabulous. The zipline was another matter. It was done with a client, more or less under duress and I was terrified the whole time. When we got to the part of the course where you didn’t zip, but swung on a rope from one platform to the next, the two guides had to come back for me and basically force me to swing by reminding me that there was no other way to get down than to finish the course. Bungee jumping is not on my list, nor is sky-diving. I simply cannot imagine myself stepping out into nothing. Nope.
So congratulations today to the memories of Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart for heading out across the Atlantic and taking that big step for aeronautics!
What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done? And did you do it on purpose?
The very first night after I got my license, my mother gave me the keys to her Volkswagen bug so I could go out to a party. As I was leaving the house, she handed me a five-dollar bill and said I should get gas. I headed up to the service station nearest to our house (in the rain). When I pulled in, the attendant came out; he had on a plastic poncho and his hat had a plastic protector on it.
I felt so grown up as I rolled down the window and said “Fill it up or $5.00, whichever comes first.” Then, to my utter dismay and embarrassment, the attendant started to laugh. Standing there in the rain, he laughed HARD. My confusion must have shown on my face because he said “Even if the gas tank were bone dry, you could never get $5 of gas into it.” These days, I would laugh along with him and maybe explain that I had just gotten my license, but back then at the tender age of 16, I was absolutely mortified. Every time I ever had to go to that station again, I crossed my fingers that a different attendant would come out.
Last week when I stopped for gas, I was hoping to clean off my car a bit… it’s dirty and the timing hasn’t been right for a carwash in the driveway. I wasn’t holding my breath when I checked the squeegee holders and it was a good thing. None of the containers had any water in them; this is so common that when I do find water I’m always surprised.
It got me to thinking about how much has changed since my $5 mortification. No attendants to pump the gas or to check under the hood or to top off your oil or to clean your windshields or to take your payment. No water in the windshield cleaner containers and even if you find water, you might not find a squeegee. If you’re lucky enough to find water and a squeegee, you have to hold your breath that the squeegee is actually whole and not coming apart. And then there’s the price. Gas was 37₵ that night in the rain. These days the most economical gas near me is at my local Pump n Munch. Last time I filled up, it was $2.79.
As I started writing this, YA was looking over my shoulder. “What’s a service station?” she asked and I thought… perfect. We are so removed from the service we used to get that the younger generation doesn’t even recognize the phrase!
Do you remember the first time you pumped your own gas?
Trail Baboon 