Art, Family, Nature, Poems, Stories

Bruce and I

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Today’s post comes to us from Ben.

I found Bruce at an auction. At first I intended to give him to a friend of mine, but after purchasing, I liked him so well I decided to keep him.

Sometimes sculptures such as this are called “Green Man”. Or maybe he’s a gargoyle. Or he could just be a door knocker.

I hadn’t heard of Greenmen so I had to look that up. There are a lot of different looking versions of green man characters and multiple descriptions of what each means:

“The Leaf Man or Green Man of ancient pagan, druidic, and neo-pagan belief is a nature spirit of woodland places, plants, trees, & foliage. He represents fertility, springtime, and renewal and roams the woodlands of Europe in legend. Also called Green Jack, Jack-in-the-Green and Green George he is depicted as a face peering through leaves, usually Oak, which was sacred to druids, and a crown of leaves as a symbol of divinity.

I choose to think Bruce really is a spirit of woodland places and that he really does represent fertility and springtime.

At first I put him on the front wall of our well house so he could look across the yard and toward our house. That was OK, but eventually I moved him onto a tree. Now he can look down toward the chickens and a field. More tree’s and yard. Even a creek (in the winter when he can see through the trees).

He honestly looks much happier.

But DANG! He’s gotta be cold with that cast iron knocker in his cheeks.

Let the benevolent Leaf Man nature spirit greet guests to your home or garden with a mystical, architectural touch, and bring you good luck and prosperity!

Got a nature spirit?

PJ’s Sprite

Business, Nature, work

A Poverty of Imagination

57 Comments

My agency,  like most of the  Human Service Centers in my State, is understaffed.  We can’t seem to find any psychologists or psychiatrists or other mental health professionals  to come and work for us.  The problem is state-wide, even in the more urban areas.  There even is a paucity of private-sector mental health professionals in the western side of the State.

We certainly have tried to attract people, what with student loan forgiveness, great benefits, and competitive salaries.   No one wants to work in a rural state. My husband and I think people seem to have a poverty of imagination of what life could be like here.  I turn to the Baboons for suggestions.

How would you entice people to move to a remote, rural area to live and work?  What do you think are people’s misconceptions about rural life?  How would you speak to the realities of rural life?

Family, Food, Kids, pets

Naughty Dog!

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I have a naughty dog.

She’s 12+, moving slowly but three times this week I’ve come home to chaos. Three nights ago she had gotten into Nonny’s room and eaten the last two little bags of kitty treats that I had wrapped as gifts, as well as ripping open the wrapping on another gift.  One box with a Ukrainian egg was downstairs, but luckily not chewed or broken.

Two days ago she managed to get a hold of a bag of spiced almonds that I thought were pushed back far enough on the counter. Guess not. She ate the entire bag (about a cup of almonds).  I also found the box that had had rosettes in it on the floor, but YA says the box was empty when she left.  Tell that to the shredded tissue paper that was in the box!

Tonight Rhiannon had managed to get back into Nonny’s room… she pushed the gate down. There wasn’t anything to eat in there anymore but she did knock down the box with the remaining Ukrainian eggs.  Again no damage (luckily).  That box is now locked on the attic steps.

She can’t even blame it on YA’s dog, as Guinevere is always kenneled when we’re out of the house.   All the other dogs I’ve had over the years have become mellower over the years.  Guess Rhiannon is going against the grain!

Are you getting naughtier with age?

Baboon Achievers, Family, History, holidays, Kids, Stories

Pajama Enforcement

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Today’s post comes to us from Crystal Bay.

Like VS’s friend from last week, when my children were little, I’d search for matching pjs every Christmas. I wanted to photograph them together looking really cute, then use the pictures for holiday cards. Back then, matching pjs of different sizes were hard to come by because clothing sizes only came in age groupings: infants to toddler, toddler to elementary school, junior to adult.  This forced me to go to three different departments in hopes that each one just might have the same pj in the next size up. Now, whole family sets are available, from infants to grown men.

After scoring (when I could), the next challenge was to get my three kids to put them on just for a photo shoot. They wanted nothing to do with fulfilling my desire for matching children.  I cajoled them, bribed them with treats, got angry at them, and sometimes even said that I’d pay them. The age at which they became uncooperative was around six.  I’ll never know whether their obstinacy was due to not wanting to look alike, or due to them knowing how badly I wanted to show them off.

Moving this tradition up another generation, my daughter skipped matching pjs when her five kids were little and started buy them when they were teenagers. For five years running, she’s spent a fortune buying each matching pjs, including a pair for herself. Each Christmas, they not only don them, they spend the whole day in them! This year, they even wore them all day at my son’s house. We always gather there because he has the largest home of all of us.

Maybe her success is because they identify with being a big brood. The older they get, the closer they’ve become to one another and to their mom. In my child-rearing days, my kids were closer to me when they were not yet teenagers. I can no more picture my kids spending all of Christmas day in matching pjs than I can imagine walking a mile in sub-zero weather!

What tradition will you be “enforcing” in 2018?

Business, Food, holidays, Nature, News, Science, Technology, Weather

Dieter Substitution

36 Comments

I didn’t have the television switched on too much today but I think I saw Marie Osmond at least three times. It occurs to me that I haven’t seen her hawking her diet system since before Halloween. Interesting that the diet ads start up right away on January 1.

Weight loss is the number one resolution in America these days (and has been for decades). And I read something recently that says most folks have blown through all their resolutions after six weeks.  I’m guessing that means we’ll have plenty of Marie Osmond until Groundhog’s Day.

I also saw recently that PETA wants to replace Puxatawny Phil with an animatronic groundhog. This seems absurd to me; would we really be able to program it to recognize its own shadow and forecast the end of winter? Of course, we could always program it to monitor diet ads; once spring and summer arrives, the ads drop off. This made me wonder if we replaced Marie Osmond with an animatronic dieter, maybe SHE could tell us when winter is ending and save PETA the trouble of replacing Puxatawny Phil!

What robot would be useful in your life?

 

 

Family, gardening, pets, The Future, Uncategorized

Hoping

33 Comments

Every morning our grey cat sits expectantly  by the front door, waiting.  She waits for the magic moment when the light appears on the living room wall and ceiling above our media cabinet.   She knows it is somehow associated with my cell phone.  This morning she saw me walk into the living room with my phone, and immediately jumped on top of the media cabinet, waiting for the light. The kitten stays on the floor, as her legs are too short to make the leap to the top.  The light sometimes appears low enough for her to pounce, and she waits for it, too.

When I sit in the love seat  by the bay window, the sun reflects off my cell phone screen and I can flash a light all over the walls and ceiling. The kitten tries to grab it. It always slips between her paws. The grey cat just sits and watches it with fascination and excitement.  It seems to be strangely satisfying for her, as though her day is off to a good start when the light appears.  As the days shortened this fall, the light sometimes didn’t even show up, since the sun wasn’t in the right position until after I left for work.  The grey cat never gave up hope.  She waited each morning.

Today we planned our garden and chose the seed varieties for next summer. I hope the rains come and we don’t have a drought.   I don’t think we are too different from our cats, waiting with hope for the promise of light in this dark season and these even darker times.

The new year has just started. What are you hoping for?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Family, History, holidays, Stories, Uncategorized

Helmer and Leroy

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November 11 was a red letter day in Luverne this year. Helmer and Leroy, the two remaining members of the Last Man Club opened the bottle of Bourbon, took a swig, and named  and honored their deceased friends in a last ceremony.

Helmer Haakenson is 98,  and Leroy Luitjens was 93, I believe. Helmer is the thinner man. Leroy died a couple of weeks later in November.  The club was started in 2010, comprised of Second World War veterans who met every day at the grocery store for coffee and mutual support.  My dad was a member. Every guy had a coffee cup with his name on it. Glen, the grocery store owner, provided free doughnuts. When you died, they turned your cup upside down and placed it in the cup rack on the wall.  The rack also contained a huge bottle of expensive bourbon. The bottle was to be opened by the last man, who then was to name his fallen comrades and drink a toast to their memory.

After the founder of the club died earlier this year, Helmer and Leroy decided to open the bottle at the town Veteran’s Day Ceremony. Former Governor Pawlenty’s wife was a special friend to the group, and she participated in the ceremony. Ken Burns, who featured Luverne in his documentary The War, wrote a congratulatory letter, which was read aloud.  Then they opened the bottle, drank a toast, and the name of every member was read and a passing bell was rung.

Helmer insisted that the remaining members in 2014 be honorary pall bearers at my dad’s funeral. He is a hero to me, along with Leroy. I have known them both since my childhood.  I need to write to Helmer.

Who are your heroes?

 

Family, holidays, Kids

The Pajama Proliferation

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YA and I spent Christmas Eve at my friends’ home (Alan and Julie). They have 11 grandkids, age 8 and under.  It’s chaos.  As if having that many kids hopped up on holiday sweets and anticipating gifts together in an enclosed space isn’t enough, Alan is just a big kid himself and eggs them on.

Just before we opened gifts (one at a time starting with the youngest), the pajamas were brought out. This has been a tradition for many years, complete with paparazzi-style photo session once all the kids are jammied up.  As much fun as it is, I do think about the cost of this tradition.  Everybody gets new pajamas for the occasion.  Then the next year everybody gets a new pair.  None of these pajamas gets handed down or worn the next year.  Of course, considering how fast all these kids are growing, they probably need new pajamas every year anyway!

What’s your favorite tradition?

Travel, Uncategorized, Weather

Coping with the Cold

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We drove 500 miles Tuesday straight into wind chills of -30 F.  The van performed admirably, not kicking up a fuss until we got home. The Check Engine and You are Skidding lights came on and wouldn’t turn off.  Tonight the temperature soared to 11, and the lights went off.  I don’t blame the van for the protest.  I am grateful I don’t have to take the van in for repairs.

Husband traveled to the Fort Berthold reservation tonight to find that the pipes are frozen in his tribal housing. He got tons of bottled water,  turned on the space heater, opened the cupboard doors, and prayed that the pipes thaw in the night. If not, he stays at the casino tomorrow. We remain grateful, cheerful,  and hopeful. After all, what else is there to do?

What are good ways to cope with the cold?

Family, pets, Uncategorized

Second Chances

27 Comments

Today’s post comes from Crystalbay.

I can’t recall if I shared that my new Ragdoll kitten tragically died of cardiac arrest during a routine neutering a month ago. I read that one out of every 1100 kittens have a fatal reaction to anesthetic. “Trouble” drew the unlucky number. My vet was so devastated that he said he wanted to pay for half of the $850 cost for another Ragdoll. I searched everywhere for a kitten my remaining kitten’s age (they were littermates) and found one just two weeks older. This poor, young vet was so distraught by losing an adorable healthy young kitten that he’s called several times to see how I was doing. It’s been pretty clear that he’s the one who most needs consoling.  The breeder drove the replacement kitten here, and when she let him emerge from the carrier, I was stunned by the large size of him.  He weighs three times what my female Ragdoll does. She then said that his mom is 20 pounds and his dad 26 pounds. My expectations of replacing Trouble with another small kitten were immediately dashed!

I wrestled for two weeks deciding whether or not to keep him, and ultimately decided I would make the 15-year commitment. I landed on the perfect name for my giant kitten: Buddha. He sits around like Buddha on his throne. 

Today, I had to take him in for his pre-op exam. Tomorrow he’s being neutered and laser declawed (he’s already torn up some upholstery). First, I tried putting him in the carrier. He splayed his back legs and I couldn’t get him in. He’s so large that he can only be put in a carrier head first. A couple of tries and I gave up. My next ploy was to put him in a pillowcase – something that’s worked with 18 previous cats. He squirmed and he rolled and he fought to escape in the car, so I ended up literally trying to hold the opening shut with one hand while driving with the other. He succeeded in pushing his head up through my grip anyway, and commenced to yowl and crawl around.

Here I thought getting him to the vet would only be a problem when he’s full grown, but it appears that there may be no way to corral him for future vet visits in the future! I ended up leaving him at the clinic instead of bringing him back in the morning for his surgery. The staff said they’ll help me shove him into the carrier to come home.

This photo was taken the first time he laid on my lap a week ago. All two feet of him. I’ll also post a picture of my little girl, Sweetie.

Tell about some of your second chances.