May

The weekend Farm Report comes to us from Ben.

The barn swallows are back.

Often we get one that stops in about this time of the year, just as the scout, and then it’s gone again until about May 6 when they generally return to stay. This year we had one back on April 26. I joked that mom came back as a barn swallow. And a few days later, she brought dad with her. And this pair moved into the usual nest on top of the Windchime next to the front door. They seem to be here to stay.

I’ve been saying I couldn’t remember what day it was for the last month. Heck, throw in a funeral and I’m totally discombobulated now. 

Finished our spring play at the college last weekend, then had a spring concert this past week. Commencement isn’t until the 14th, so this coming week, maybe I can farm a bit between other things. 

It has rained enough I haven’t gotten much fieldwork done or anything planted yet. I think the damp conditions are Gods way of telling me just to relax, it will be OK. Ha! “Relax.” Clearly God isn’t aware of how my mind works.

We moved the chicks to a bigger pen. They’re enjoying that, eating A LOT and growing well. Just starting to get some tail feathers. 

After cutting down all those trees, last week I got them all cleared off the fields. That was more involved than I expected, but it’s done. And I didn’t break anything on the tractor nor hurt myself. 

I did some repairs on something I had bent on one of the tractors last winter, and I graded the road. The chickens sure love a fresh pile of dirt or even if it’s gravel. The first grading of the spring, I’m pulling in rock from the edges, and cutting down the edges so rain water will run off the side and not down the road. It kinda makes a mess for a while. It will get better. Eventually.

I got my final rabies shot got so I got my rabies tag now.

You all know, with any death there is a lot of details. There’s a scene in one of my favorite movies, Mr. Magorium‘s Wonder Emporium, where one of the characters says he’s just the guy that makes sure all the papers are in order. I kind of feel like that sometimes. I made a lot of phone calls this week. I thought when mom passed away I would be complete blubbering mess. But honestly it was a huge relief. It felt like such a weight off. And I’m lucky that I have such a supportive family and we all get along so well. (Well, there’s that one… we’ve had enough together time for now.)

We laugh together at the meeting at the funeral home, we laugh over stories with the minister during the meeting at the church.

I asked the funeral home director for a tour. He said he couldn’t give me a tour. I told him I didn’t want to see a dead body, I just wanted to see the “backstage” areas, so he did show me the garage. I remember when Dad died, there was a framed picture of Bea Arthur in the casket room. I couldn’t figure out if she was the celebrity spokesperson or what?? Her picture isn’t there anymore. And the guy wouldn’t believe me that it was there before. But I know what I saw!

Mom had requested a private burial and then the service will be in a few weeks because all the grandchildren were already planning a “cousins reunion” and we didn’t want them to make two trips this close together.

So we’re at the cemetery for a quick little service, and I’m looking at dad‘s headstone “over there”, but the casket and hole over here. And somebody else questions that as well. Finally I get the attention of the funeral director. He went pale for a second, and he started to sweat, and then we realized they had moved the headstone in order to dig the hole and get the mechanism in place for the casket. Oh. OK, that makes sense. He teased me I was gonna give him a heart attack.

Kelly and I stayed after and talked with the cemetery crew and watched them lower the casket into the vault. It’s all part of the process.

And the world just keeps on going round.

IS THERE A CELEBRITY SPOKESPERSON YOU’D BELIEVE?

Mom

Today’s post comes to us from Ben.

When my parents moved out of their house in town and into a senior living place, I wrote this short story. Several years later I found it again, shared it with the family, and one of my sisters commented that I could write another piece and update the situation. Which I did, and filed away.   When mom died last week I updated that story.

So here are some stories about my mom.

FEBRUARY 2007

Mom and Dad have finally moved. They decide to move even though the house hadn’t sold yet (maybe due to the cold and snow? Mom says she’s just tired of cleaning the house…) and low and behold the house sold anyway.

So we all met at the house one Saturday a couple weeks ago; 0 degree’s outside… Oldest sister Ellen is here [from Pennsylvania]. Ernie and Joanne decided to rent a moving van, Bob parked his pickup at the back door and started loading stuff from the basement; I loaded my truck after his and Ernie is asking what we rented the big truck for? But then we filled the big truck, and the two pickups and there’s STILL stuff left in the house…geez; where did all this stuff come from?? Didn’t think there was that much stuff?!? They cleaned all summer, threw stuff, and still….

And now the apartment is filled with boxes of … stuff. The pickups fit into the underground parking garage, but not the moving van of course. So Bob and I take turns shuttling our pickups back and forth from the elevator to the moving van to load stuff and drive back to the elevator. And from there it’s one flat cart and two shopping carts to get everything upstairs. And the place is filling up and they don’t have the dining room table or sewing table in the apartment yet. Judy [my aunt] makes lunch for us since she’s in the building too.  Eventually they rent a storage closet in the basement and the next Saturday Joanne, Arlen, Kelly and I haul some more stuff from the basement and the deck furniture and shelving and pack the storage closet.

The next week, since it’s Presidents Day and no school [Son] and [daughter] and I meet Dad at the old house and clean out his shop; Steve is taking the table saw; Matt’s getting some odds and ends, and we load my pick up with saws and ….stuff. Dad’s wood jointer / planer and …stuff… and haul it out to the farm. I put the band saw in the garage so Dad can use that; some of the ….junk…down in the old shed, other stuff in the new shed. Then back for one more trip to pick up the real junk, vacuum the shop (with his little dinky shopvac with the 1” hose and no attachments… it was kinda funny / pathetic!)  Finally, the only thing left is Mom’s sewing table and the shopvac.

April 2025

Mom’s Moves

Mom has died. 

Mom spent her first 22 years living in her parents’ home, and her first move was as a new bride into Dad’s farm house. Or rather, her in-law’s house, Carl and Helen.  Anna Conway, her Mother-in-laws mother, was also living there. Bedridden and cared for by Helen, Mom learned how to care for her. Mom said it’s where she learned not to be afraid of death. Anna lived for a few more months and mom’s compassion, home nursing care skills, and possibly entire attitude about life, came from that situation. Her Mother-in-law, Helen, had 5 sons and was pretty excited to have a “daughter” in the house and they got along well.


Eventually the in-laws moved out and mom could make it her home.  Mom and Dad lived the next 20 years in that old farmhouse which was made up of bits and pieces from the previous 100 years. Mom could have done without the snakes that came out to sun on the stone foundation or the honeybees that moved into one wall, ate through the plaster, and got inside the room late one night.


When Mom was 42 years old, the time came to build a new farm house. She moved the family into the machine shed for a few months in mid-summer. Which became fall.

And then winter. And then she moved the family out of the machine shed and into the new house.  And she made that a home for 21 years until they moved into town when the next generation took over the farm. Mom was 64.

They found an empty lot in town and started building a house and they were determined NOT to still be living on the farm when the next newlyweds moved in. She had done that and wasn’t doing it to the next couple. Their next-door neighbors in town were going to be gone for the summer, and offered that mom and dad move into their house while the new house was being finished. They didn’t have to move quite so much stuff at first, and when the new city house was done, they simply moved next door, to their new home in town.  And they lived there for 17 years until they decided it was time to move to Senior Housing. Mom was 81. It’s surprising how much stuff one can accumulate so quickly, and they spent the summer having garage sales and giving stuff away. Mom was determined to move and she worked hard to convince Dad this would be OK. He really wasn’t so sure, and he was grumpy about it all summer. And one can’t really blame him; moving from the country into town was bad enough, but now, moving from their house into an “apartment”…well, that was quite an adjustment so his anxiety was understandable.


That move took a while to sort out as many things went to temporary storage, and more stuff was given away, and it took a while to figure out what they needed in the apartment. And Dad discovered it was OK not having to worry about snow or grass. And he was able to create another workshop.  They made a nice home there for the next 8 years until Dad’s passing. Mom was 88.  And mom moved into another apartment, got rid of more stuff, and she made that her home for another 7 years.

And then she moved once more. Her last move. Into a single room with a shared bathroom.   And the kids packed up her stuff again. Mom was 95 and slowing down.

It felt different that time. She didn’t need much, nor did she have room for much. And there was a lot she wouldn’t need again. The move was her idea so that helped. Ever practical, she knew she needed more assistance. She knew it wouldn’t be perfect. “I’ll need to have a lot of patience.” she said. With her usual resilience and attitude, she made the best of it. Most of the time. Through new staff, through covid, and paper plates, physical therapy, new friends, visits from old friends, she was able to enjoy it.

She was often awake at night “thinking” about things.  She’s had a lot of thoughts over the years.

She never thought she would be blind. That’s been the hardest thing. That’s what’s gave her the most trouble of everything. As much as she would say “Oh well, God will take care of it.” she sure had a hard time rationalizing God taking care of that one. She was so close to 99, just a few weeks short. Not that that was ever a goal, no one ever heard her have a goal that was age related. Her latest goals were more of being able to walk again, or seeing. And when you think of the things she did, and saw, you would understand that.

So, finally, the best move of all: rejoining her beloved husband, and her brothers and sisters, and her mom and dad, and all her cousins and nieces and nephews. She’ll be asking everyone ‘What do ya know??’


She loved getting together with family or friends.  She always wanted to make sure everybody had a chair. She wanted to make sure everyone had something to eat.


And now she has a chair.  And she has ice cream.  And She’s really home. Again.

WHAT ARE YOU SERVING WHEN GATHERING WITH FRIENDS?

Where in the World Was VS?

Turns out that Renee and I were both out of town last weekend.   Any ideas where I was?

  • This town was established in 1848 and was initially named Bad Axe. (There is still a Bad Axe Music Store in town.)
  • A Masonic lodge and theatre was rebuilt in 1922 (after a fire) and was a hub of the community for decades. In 1995, after being shut for several years, it was purchased and the theatre was subsequently remodeled with monies raised by the Historical Society and the surrounding community.
  • 40 years ago, a one-room Waldorf schoolhouse was established in town. It is still operating with 125 students, grades kindergarten to 8th
  • This is the home of one of the earliest organic dairy companies, cooperatively owned and managed, opened in 1988.
  • In 2012 a guy named Randy moved to the area, built himself a cabin and then built himself a wood burning stove. Folks started asking him to build stoves for them and within a couple of years he founded a company for wood heating solutions which has been a runaway success.
  • This is the smallest town in America that hosts a book festival.

Any thoughts?

 

Newcomers

I was fascinated to read that today is the date in 1562 that the first French settlers arrived in North America. They arrived in Florida, of all places! I may need to research further how they fared.

When we lived in Winnipeg we would talk with our friends about our and their families’ immigrant experiences. My family came over in the 1850’s and the early 1900’s. It was a little daunting to hear that some or our French Canadian friends’ families arrived in Canada in the early 1600’s.

I have become rather close with the Newfoundland Psychology Board representatives who attend the licensing board conferences we just went to in Montreal. We were lamenting the current political strife between our countries, and two of them told me that they were registered with the Canadian Government as formal refugee sponsors, and said with all seriousness that if we needed to claim political asylum they would be happy to have us come to St. John’s and stay with them. I told them I was very touched by their offer, but that I was sure there were far more people in need of asylum than we would ever be. Since Son was born in Canada, and since that means Canada will always claim him if he fills out all the proper paper work, he could sponsor us in. I don’t see that as happening, but it is nice to know there are options out there.

What were your families’ immigrant experiences like?

Fine Dining

One thing I have always loved about Montreal is the quality of the food in grocery stores and restaurants. You may have difficulty finding Diet Mountain Dew, as a couple of our ND colleagues lamented, but in terms of other “real food”, it is Nirvana.

We had wonderful Punjabi food our first night there at a restaurant called Le Taj. The naan was the best I ever had, and now I want a tandoor in the back yard! There are scores of great restaurants serving any ethnic food you might want. We had an early supper one night at a Portuguese restaurant and had lovely lamb sandwiches on panini. That restaurant was wedged between a sushi restaurant and a Spanish restaurant. Many delis are open after midnight.

The hotel where our conference was located fed us breakfast and lunch most days, with a really big dinner on Friday night. The food was always served buffet style, and was wonderful in its opulent diversity. I never saw caviar at a conference buffet before, but on Friday night one of our options was poached salmon covered in about 3 inches of black caviar. I am not exaggerating the amount of caviar that was piled on that salmon. You could take as much as you wanted. I have never eaten caviar and probably never will, but it gives you an idea of the food we were offered. The French pastries and breads were superb. The Vegan and Vegetarian attendees told me they were very happy with the food choices they were offered, too.

Husband stocked our room fridge with great cheeses and cold cuts from a small grocery store for late night snacks. He didn’t find the time for a smoked meat on rye sandwich, though, something Montreal is famous for. It just means we will have to go back.

Eat much caviar? Tell about your travel dining experiences.

Airport Schedules

We are finally home from Quebec after a wonderful time. The Montreal airport is quite fascinating, made even more so by my very poor ability to make a cogent travel itinerary and a computer glitch by Delta Airlines.

For reasons even I cannot fathom, I scheduled our return flight to Minneapolis and thence to Bismarck for 6:10 am on Sunday morning. That meant we needed to be at the airport at 3:10 am according to Delta Airline’s advisory to be at the airport three hours before take off for international flights. I had no idea that just about everything at the Pierre Trudeau airport closed at 8:00 pm.

It is hard to sleep knowing you have to get up at 2:00 am to catch a taxi to the airport. We decided to go to the airport at 10:00 pm on Saturday night and try to doze as we could. When we arrived we were informed that the Delta ticket booths and most everything else were closed until 3:00 am. We signed in to our flight when the ticket agents arrived on the dot at 3:00am.. That entailed a wait until 3:30 am until the folks who operated the baggage conveyor belt arrived. That is their regular schedule. We were then shepherded into another large room with several hundred people to wait until 4:15 am until the TSA staff arrived, and thence until 4:30am when the US Customs staff arrived. I am happy to report we had no issues at US Customs.

I made our flight reservations in late March, and the Delta computer miscalculated our arrival and departure times in Minneapolis because it didn’t take the time change from the Eastern time zone to Central time zone into account. Even the Montreal ticket agents were fooled. Our Montreal flight arrived late in Minneapolis. We feared we had only 15 minutes to catch our Bismarck flight. We tore to the gate. The door was closed, and we feared we were too late to board. The rather confused ticket agent told us that the plane didn’t leave for an hour and 15 minutes. That hour from from Eastern to Central time made a huge difference!

We arrived home in Dickinson at 12:00 pm on Sunday after no sleep since we got up at 8:00 am Saturday morning. I am surprised I could even drive the 100 miles home. I vowed after this that I will engage a travel agent in the future for any domestic or international travel.

Travel horror stories or happy accounts? Know any rigid schedule adherents?

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Shut The Door

Today’s Farming Update comes from Ben.

Nothing too exciting this week. No dog bites or trees on fire.

I made an earring out of an old rabies tag and the township guys thought that was pretty funny. I bought a pair of ‘Animal Handling Gloves’ off Amazon. The tag says they’re not “High tech bomb proof”, but they are puncture RESISTANT. I get my final rabies shot on Monday. So yeah, now that the horse is out…

I’ve been part of a County study group discussing roads, and traffic safety from the Township’s perspective. It’s been interesting. I’ve always said I’m not the idea man, I’m the one who makes your ideas happen, so I don’t have a lot of opinions at these things. Some guys certainly have more to say than I do. It’s an interesting group. The guys all have dirt under their nails, and that one black nail, and are very articulate and well spoken.

Our easter ham was really tasty. We planned on eating about 4:00. But then Kelly and I were being lazy, and then we were doing our Sunday Gator Farm Tour, so it was closer to 3:00 before I put it on the grill. At 3:45 the grill temp was at zero and the propane tank had run out. Not to worry, I had another over in the shed. We ate about 6PM. It didn’t really matter, we had nothing else going on. Monday I worked on machinery. Got the digger tires checked and filled, and I changed some worn out points, (the part that actually goes in the dirt), It’s greased and ready to go. I checked the grain drill tires and it’s greased up and ready. I crawled under the digger three or four times out on the concrete pad. It would have been nicer if there wasn’t so much gravel and dirt on the pad. It’s hard to keep it clean. Even “clean” would help. Later on, I did sweep and use the leaf blower to clean off a bit.

Tuesday I got the corn planter out and tires checked and it’s greased and ready to go. There are multiple places to grease the planter with three zerks under the planter and I can always find two of them, but that third one is tricky. The two don’t move, but that third one rotates and it was pure luck that it ended up right there in front of me.

I put both the 630 and Kelly’s C tractor in the shop. I replaced the spark plugs, spark plug wires, and coil wire on the 630 and it’s running much better. I still need to adjust the timing, and replace a throttle plate, because the throttle lever doesn’t stay forward and the tractor ends up at a slow idle. Sure was nice working in the shop.

I checked the tires on all the tractors. You’d be surprised the large rear tires may only have 8-12 pounds of air in them. Several factors determine that pressure and the goal is to get the best traction with the least amount of soil compaction. They can last a long time on dirt. Running them on the highways causes a lot of wear. New tires might be $4000 each. Imagine putting 8 of them on a tractor. Wednesday morning us five township supervisors met for breakfast at a local diner, and then went out to do our annual road inspection. Yep, all the roads are still there. We have about 30 miles of gravel township roads and we put fresh rock on about 1/3rd each year. We verify those roads need the rock (The average is about 500 tons of rock / mile). Some roads already have a good base and we may only do half that. Depending on the winter, we can get frost boils (mud and dirt coming up through the rock) and they may need more rock. We know of a few culverts that need to be replaced and we make note of trees that need trimming. We look at the bituminous roads and which ones need crack sealing or overlays. Takes about 5 hours to make the rounds. It’s a good bunch of guys and we get along well. Notice I’ve said ‘guys’ in three different township situations. I don’t know of very many women as supervisors. There are women clerks and treasurers, not sure why we don’t have more as supervisors. No reason they can’t be elected.

I went out in the afternoon and cut down trees hanging over the edges of fields. I mention every year how I’m knocking down branches or pushing back brush on the edges. This year I took the gator, three chainsaws, one dog, my safety glasses, chainsaw chaps, and I cut down a lot of trees.

Mostly box elders that lean toward the sun, and end up hanging low over the field edges. Plus some ash trees that have died and are going to fall into the field sooner or later. I only got the chainsaw stuck once! That’s why I have multiple saws. One of them is  battery operated and it’s a pretty impressive saw for battery power. Course a sharp blade is what makes a saw good. I sharpened one with a hand file on the back of the gator, but when the chain came off later, I just used to a different saw. I picked up a cheap electric bench-mounted chainsaw blade sharpener at an auction, and when I got home, I tried it out on one of the blades. I haven’t got the chain put back on to see how I did, but it has to be better. One of these days, weather and time permitting, I’ll be back out there with the tractor and loader and will push the trees off the fields. I must have cut down 30 trees along 1 ½ miles. It’s been a long time since I last did this.

The chicks are doing well. We’ve lost a couple, which always happens, but they’re eating lots and growing well.

Last weekend of our college shows. Band and choir concert next week. Then Commencement on May 14th.

FAVORITE WORD THAT STARTS WITH A ‘Z’?

Airport Mouse

On Tuesday, we had several hours between our flight from Bismarck arriving in Minneapolis and our flight to Montreal departing. We settled in at our gate for a rather long wait.

Our gate for the Montreal flight was in the A Concourse, a section of the airport currently in the middle of renovation. There is new carpet, but no electrical outlets to charge phones and devices. There is unfinished drywall and exposed heating and pipes.

The monotony was enlivend by observing two little brown mice emerge from a hole in the wall and scamper under a row of seats, snatching any available crumbs on the floor. When startled, they went back in the hole until they felt safe to reemerge. Our fellow travelers were both alarmed and amused by their antics which went on for our whole wait. People took their photos. My main concern was that they didn’t run up my pant leg or end up as a stowaway in our carry-ons. A ticket agent commented this was nothing new, and she had seen them a few gates down earlier in the day. I thought that Airport Mouse would make a fine series of children’s stories.

What are some of the odder things you have seen in airports. Think up some plot lines for Airport Mouse.

Let the Sun Shine

Most years, our first foray to the zoo is during Farm Babies, which usually starts towards the end of April.  The zoo opens up the Farm and there are usually some baby animals to pet.  It’s not a big a celebration as it was in years’ past, but who can resist petting baby goats.  Not us.

This year, YA broke tradition by waking up last weekend and suggesting we go to the zoo that day.  I didn’t have any plans, so off we went.

Our normal routine is to start with the inside exhibits – first the Tropics and then the Minnesota Trail.  We skipped the Bird Show as they re-jiggered the winter show last year and we didn’t care for it too much.  Then we walked on the lake bridge to see the tigers, caribou and moose then around the Northern Trail – the Bactrian camels were all out sunning together – it looked like they were at a symposium:

The two takins that were out were having a great day, chasing each other around; we’ve never seen them that active.  One of the snow leopards was also enjoying the sunshine (see the header photo).  In fact, that did seem to be the theme of the day; many of the animals were enjoying the sunny day. 

After winding back to the main building through the Grizzly Coast, we had our lunch, augmented with french fries.  Had to hit the gift shop, although we almost never purchase anything.  Then sea lions and weedy sea dragons and sharks before we headed home.  A wonderful day.

How do you like your sunshine?  Porch?  Adirondack chairs?  Chaise lounge?  Hands and knees in the garden? Sun lamp?

Where In The World Are Renee And Chris?

If the travel gods are benevolent and things go according to plan, Husband and I are traveling outside the US this week. Although the header photo suggests we are somewhere on Mars, we are, in fact, at a latitude a little south of our home in North Dakota. We are here, strangely enough, because of our work on a ND regulatory board. I am the president. Chris is the complaints investigator.

The old and the new are blended beautifully here. There are many monuments to famous 18th and 19th century kings, queens, and military commanders. The place was settled long before the 18th century, though. Many languages are spoken here.

There are many beautiful old churches and cathedrals.

It is a place with superb food. It is a place renowned for its smoked meat and bagels. It is a port city. There even is a Tintin restaurant, based on the cartoon! The music here is also renowned for classical and folk artists. This photo is a dead giveaway.

Where are we? Ever been here?