Nature, work

A Day in the Life

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Today’s post comes from Ben.

Been spending a lot of time in the tractor lately and I’ve seen lot of stuff through the windows or out the door. 

A view from the (tractor) door—

We started to see mama deer and fawns crossing the road. And then I nearly ran over this one: 

That’s the front wheel of the tractor on the right; the rear wheel of the tractor is just a few feet away. He must be brand new as he didn’t move.

Now I know you’re not supposed to touch them, but he’s in my way. And the woods are about 10’ to the right; this was the first round on the field. So I gently picked him up and carried him over to the grass. At that point he stood up and stumbled into the woods. Good luck, Godspeed!

The next day, different field, 20 yards ahead of me, a baby jumped up out of the grass and ran away. Same one?

And the day after that, another field, and another baby jumped out of the grass and ran away.

We have way too many deer and they eat my crops and actually cause me financial loss… but the babies are so cute!

 

And then there’s this:

Pulled it out of the ground last fall with the chisel plow, but forgot about. It’s about 6’ the long way and 6” thick.

Remember when I said I thought the rocks enjoyed being ‘rescued’? Some are more trouble than others…

Mostly my views are clouds and fields:

 

What is a day in the life like for you?

Family, Media, Songs

The Voices In Our Heads

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One of my tasks as a therapist is to help clients identify and manage the unhelpful, irrational, automatic thoughts that can lead to anxiety and depression. Some of these thoughts are easy to identify. Others play in our heads without our being really aware they are there. Even so, those thoughts are powerful and can lead to a lot of misery.

I am often beset with such thoughts myself, and they cause me lots of anxiety. I know exactly where they come from, too. My mother.  I picked up from her what I call “We are all going to die in the ditch” thoughts that nag at me with the worry that bad things are just around the corner, and you can never relax or trust that things won’t get worse.

My mom was justified in developing this mentality. Her life was a series of hopes that turned into disasters–she meets the young man will marry, and then the Japanese bomb Pearl Harbor and he goes away and she doesn’t see him again until 1945. Once he is back and they finally get on their feet financially, their apartment is destroyed by a fire.  They start a family, and her appendix ruptures at seven months gestation and she loses the child and is in the hospital for months. She gets healthy again and develops MS.  After that, things went quite well for her and there were no more disasters, but the salience of those disasters stayed with her and left her assuming the worst and waiting for the next disaster to happen.  Her thoughts just oozed into my brain and it is quite a trick to combat them

I listen to the Broadway station on our car radio, and I heard two songs recently that made me realize that there are sources all around us for unhealthy and self-defeating  thoughts. I am using YouTube clips so as to avoid any rannygazoo with copyrights.  Listen to the lyrics and ponder the unhealthy messages.

Whose voices are in your head?  Whose voice would be more helpful?  

Art, Travel

Glass City

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I have been to Tacoma, Washington two times since early April, and I am amazed at the vibrant glass art community there. There is a Museum of Glass that has a wonderful collection of glass through the centuries, as well as an active glass furnace and workshop where you can see artisans blow glass.  Daughter and I went there in April.  I guess that Tacoma became a center for glass production in the early days as they had lots of saw mills, with lots of wood shavings and waste that could fire furnaces. They also had lots of sand, being on Puget sound.

Husband and I stayed at the Hotel Murano during the trip to Tacoma in May.  Everything, from the handles on the huge glass front doors to the walls of the elevators were in glass, and every floor had an exhibition of current glass artists and their works. They even had glass canoes hanging from the ceiling, a nice tribute to the local Native Americans.

The Museum of Glass is connected to the older part of downtown Tacoma by a bridge of glass. The bridge itself isn’t glass, but there are fantastical glass works displayed on the walk-way. The header photo was taken of works displayed along the walk-way. There also are  glass works piled on top of the walk-way that catch the sun as it shines on the bridge.  It is magical.  

I can’t imagine what would compel someone to decide to commit their life to glass art, but it must be fun.

What magical places and things have you seen?

Family, History, Uncategorized

Throw It on Dayton’s Wall and See If It Sticks

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Today’s post comes from Northshorer.

The last time Sandy was in Dayton’s downtown, when it was still a Dayton’s, she looked up at a large photo mural on an upper floor and spotted herself in the photo. We were going to try to get there with our daughter and family to see it, but health issues prevented us before it closed. But a friend of hers took a photo of it and sent it to us.

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Sandy is walking beside her friend Maggie. I will leave it to you to find them, which is rather easy to do. The photo was taken in about 1953 when they were in junior high. It was a big adventure for them to ride the bus downtown from the Camden Park neighborhood where they lived. Would parents allow that today? Sandy can tell stories about having to deal with sexual predators of various degrees, so perhaps the age was no more innocent than today.

There was something about the downtown, whether in a major city or a small town.

What exactly was it about downtowns that is absent from our culture today?

Baboon Achievers, Movies, Stories, Technology

Binge-Watcher

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I’m not sure when I first realized there was a phrase “binge-watching”, and knowing me the phrase was probably around well before I came across it. I didn’t have Netflix at the time so never thought binge-watching applied to me. Then I started to think about it.

When I was in high-school, I inherited the small black and white family tv when my parents upgraded their set. Back then there was no cable, no Netflix – just channels 2,4,5,9 and 11, with only a couple of the stations broadcasting around the clock. During my junior year, the Bijou Theatre (beginning at 1 a.m.) showed all the Johnny Weismueller Tarzan movies in order, three a night for a week or so.  Every night that week, I set my alarm for 1 a.m. and watched them all.

Several years ago, after resisting Downton Abbey for a while, Steve (in Happy Valley) lent me Season 1 on DVD. Since other folks were waiting to borrow it as well, I watched the whole season over a weekend.  I have followed this by watching every succeeding season over a weekend, once the DVD comes to the library.

And if Hallmark Channel is showing Columbo or Perry Mason or Matlock back to back to back and I’m around, I’ll turn it on. So I suppose the seed was always there.

But I have to say that Netflix has brought a whole new meaning to the phrase binge-watch.  I have noticed that I’m pretty obsessive about watching shows in order, and only one series at a time until I’m done, then on to the next. Murdoch Mysteries, The Crown, Doc Martin, Raiders of the Lost Art, Midsomer Murders (why do all those folks go wandering around in the middle of the night in the dark?) and, of course, every series about castles, country homes and British villages. I don’t think I don’t actually watch any more tv  than I used to, but now I spend a lot less time looking through the tv guide to see what’s palatable!

What will you admit to binge-watching?

 

Baboon Achievers, Food, Stories

Memorial Day Leftover Pasta

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I’m a weekend cook. On weekdays, all good intentions about cooking and cleaning go out the window by the time I get home.  Heated-up leftovers are about all I’m willing to expend energy on for dinner.  On the weekends I have plenty of morning energy and time for cooking.

One my Memorial Day weekend gatherings was grilling at our house – veggie burgers with all the fixins’, potato salad, pasta salad, grilled corn, watermelon. There were leftovers, but not really anything you could reheat on a Thursday night so I still felt the need to cook something.

I decided to use the leftovers to make a dish. I started with what was left of a large yellow onion and sautéed it in olive oil. Then I cut the kernels off the 3 grilled corns and added them.  I found a can of black beans in the cabinet, rinsed and threw them in. Then I added the leftover pasta (I made WAY too much the night before.  I seasoned it and it tasted ok but didn’t look quite right so I chopped up the leftover 2½ tomatoes and stirred them in.  Then it was perfect.

Memorial Day Leftover Pasta
Olive oil
1 yellow onion (or almost one), chopped
3 ears of corn (grilled OK), kernels cut off the cob
1 can black beans, rinsed thoroughly
4 cups cooked pasta
2½ tomatoes, chopped
Salt, pepper, cumin, chili pepper to taste

Heat up the olive oil and sauté the chopped onions. Add corn and after a few minutes, add beans and pasta.  Mix thoroughly and season to taste.  Add tomatoes at the end and toss gently.  Eat warm or cold!

What leftovers will you have after this weekend?

 

 

 

Family, History, Nature, Stories, Travel

A Little Explore

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For our anniversary a couple of weeks ago, Husband and I took the day off and went out exploring. It is particularly beautiful right now out in the hills surrounding Winona, and we headed south and west, and ended up in a little town of 657 souls called Rollingstone. Had lunch at Bonnie Ray’s Café – cute place, with photos of the locals papering the walls, pretty decent food. We got to meet Bonnie herself – she was wearing a t-shirt that said something like “Rollingstone – Before the Song, Before the Band”. Then we walked around town and played cribbage on a picnic table in the city park, from which we had this view.

We drove on back roads toward Lewiston, and knew our way to Farmers Park, a gorgeous county park situated in a flat spot among the hills. It’s a peaceful place with multiple picnic spots, and an old fashioned playground with not only teeter totters, but also a real merry-go-round.

When we left, I suggested we follow the road you see in the top photo, up a rutted, winding path that brought us to a cornfield on the ridge. We made our way along one gravel road after another, trying to guess which direction at each juncture, and finally came to a county highway. By now we were so turned around we had no idea what would get us back to our Hwy 14. (And we have no smart phone.) Eureka! – I remembered a map I had picked up just that week, which showed a good bit of area around Winona; we turned left onto County Hwy. 23, made our way home.

Before (or lacking) smart phones, how did you manage to find your way when lost?

History, Movies, News

RIP Roger Moore

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Roger Moore, most famously-known for playing James Bond, passed away this week. He was always happy about being known as 007.

James Bond, as written by Ian Fleming, is a smarmy, violent, misogynist. In addition the 007 movies have taken the violence to new heights.  If you can think of it, Hollywood has blown it up in the name of British spydom.

So why am I a Bond fan? Why have I seen them all? More than once? Can probably tell you the names of the books and the movies in order? Why did I make a special trip to visit Schilthorn (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service locale) when I was in Switzerland? Have had more than one heated discussion about who was the best Bond?  It doesn’t make any sense whatsoever.

Just one of my many quirks, I guess.

What’s your most outrageous “quirk”?

Baboon Achievers, Business, Fifty Words, Food, Stories

The Mall

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We have a variety of shops: cheese, socks, pie, underwear, candy, Cracker jacks, Three Musketeers, peanuts, toast, jam, fish balls, ice cream, chocolate, books, Gold mine stock, swamp real estate, Brooklyn Bridge, air, pet rocks, nails and screws.

What should we name our little mall? Should we open on holidays?

Food, Travel

Sardines and Only Sardines

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Our last day of the cruise was really just a quick ride from the Port of Lisbon to the airport. No statues, no scenic tour, no talkative guide with plenty to say on the current political climate in Europe (or America).  The Lisbon airport is quite large and getting through the duty-free shop before getting to the gates is like a trip through a perfume-drenched Ikea.

Just after escaping the duty free, as we walked down the hallway, hoping to find our gate, we saw the brightest, most colorful shop ever – it looked like a carnival inside – with rows and rows of colorful tins. After a bit we realized it was shop full of sardines – just sardines.

Apparently Portugal is known for its sardines and from what we could tell from the shop, aged sardines are a real treat. The tins are marked with years on them, although I find it hard to believe that there were 50-year-old sardines in the tins marked 1967.  The shop was busy so we couldn’t get anyone to confirm if they were really that old or if it was just a marketing gimmick.  Both of us are vegetarians so even though it initially seemed like a fun thing to buy at an airport, we both passed.  But even a week later, I’m still amazed at how one product can keep a store open, especially such a big store!

If your store had just one product, what would it be?