Gov. Waltz commenting on the reflecting pool fiasco;

 Minnesota governor Tim Walz commented: “Found an imaginary problem, said only they could fix it, didn’t listen to experts, hired buddies who grifted millions, failed miserably, bragged how great it went. The entire Trump presidency in a nutshell.”

Rare June Day!

         One of the realities of South Dakota geography is that it features frequent wind. Most days the wind blows and it is a rare day when the wind is calm. Thought nights are more often relatively windless. For at least a week the weather forecast has predicted that there would be little wind today. Needing to spray weeds in my corn a windless day is helpful. The forecast was accurate as I drove by the lake the surface was almost unbroken by wind and it reflected the opposite shoreline. Indeed, a rare June day.

     The necessary spraying was quickly accomplished. In the one field the corn is growing normally. In the other the corn is stunted. It should have been fertilized and illustrates the effect of growing corn year after year on the same ground, at least twenty years, maybe thirty. Fertilizer is on the agenda for next year. 

    A week ago the consignment auction sponsored by the fire department was the usual success. Gross sales were approximately $150,000. I did my part consigning a disc, buying a disc and a stalk chopper.

Takk for alt,

Al

This was this mornings view of Lake Joanne.

In Retrospect...

     The current book I'm reading is about travel adventures, or misadventures. This causes me to reflect on my travel experiences. Though I travelled quite a bit I experienced very little mis-adventure. Never was a flight cancelled on me and most of the time flights were on time. Only once was my luggage delayed.  That was on a trip to Argentina. My suitcase caught up with me after a few days.

   On a visit to New York City for continuing education, my flight was out of LaGuardia Airport. While waiting at the gate to return to Minneapolis the airline personnel announced that vouchers were being offered if a flier would relinquish a seat. When the offered amount reached $1200. I offered my seat. Apparently the airplane sent was smaller than the booked plane. The man at the counter said he'd take my name but the amount offered would go higher. It did! The voucher I received was for $2400.00 with no time limit on it's use. How long was I delayed? Two hours. 

   That was the only time I surrendered a seat. Never was I bumped from a flight. Yet, airports are a huge hassle and the thought of encountering it fills me with dread. Blessed with family within driving distance there is no need to fly to see them. 

Takk for alt,

Al

This is one of the last planes on which I flew. It was from Athens to Crete in 2023, and my knees were jammed against the seat in front of me. Fortunately it was only about a 45 minute flight.

Excellent Book!

      This novel has an exceptionally appropriate epigraph. "Loneliness does not come from having no people about one, but from being unable to communicate the things that seem important to oneself, or from holding certain views which other people find inadmissible." Carl Jung.  It accurately summarizes Elizabeth Strout's The Things We Never Say. This New York Times bestseller and Pulitzer Prize winner is out with this 2026 book.

    Artie, husband, father, high school teacher, sailor, friend...finds little opportunity to speak what's really on his mind. A tragic event has frozen the relationship with his wife so that their communication loses emotional depth. Their life is further complicated  by a significant secret which he only discovers very late.

    Strout is one of those writers that engage from the first page. Her understanding of the human condition suffuses the pages as the characters live out their lives in relationship. Typical of Strout books, Artie is a loveable character who lives with the silent frustration of few understanding him. 

   I'm very glad it read it!

Takk for alt,

Al

And to think I have an apartment in an Old Folks Home

 

Impulse buy!

      At Saturday's consignment auction I attended intending to bid on the disc that followed me home. Aware that there was also a stalk chopper for sale, after buying the disc, I wandered over to the chopper curious how it would sell. I bought it on impulse when no one else cared enough to make a couple of bids. 

   It's a John Deere, Model 27, and, judging how much of the road it covered, a 16'. After pulling it to my shop I lubricated it and attached the PTO and hydraulic hoses. Much to my pleasure it worked. Both it and the disc came with the requisite hydraulic cylinder which increases their value. The chopper attaches to the 1000rpm power take off shaft.  After replacing a couple of tires I towed it to the field where it can rest until next spring when it will find use.

   So that's how I spent my work day. What did you do?

Takk for alt,

Al

Tire Follies!

        One of the tires on the disc that followed me home from Saturday's sale looked very old and weather checked. That disc's home is several miles from town. So, it seemed wise to head off possible trouble by replacing that tire. It was removed from the disc and, accompanied with a replacement tire, was transported to a tire repair shop in Volga 10+ miles away. Then the follies began. The tired tire had a 15" rim and the replacement I brought was 14". Stretching is not an option. Dilemma? Return to Sinai for a15" tire, or try the old one?  Folly two...deciding to put a new inner tube in the old tire and use it. Back in Sinai with the tire remounted on the disc it blew out in the first block while heading to the field. Off with that blown tire and back to Volga with the 15" tire I should have brought at the beginning.

     There was a time that this scenario would have frustrated me. No more, it's more entertaining than anything. The disc is now safely parked in the field and resting until it's time to use it next spring. The day's activity is another one that's better than a gym membership. The person who consigned the disc for sale was very lucky that the tire held air until it reached the Sinai sale ground.

Takk for alt,

Al

No comment...

 

June!

 

What Is So Rare As A Day In June

"And what is so rare as a day in June?
Then, if ever, come perfect days;
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune,
And over it softly her warm ear lays;
Whether we look, or whether we listen,
We hear life murmur, or see it glisten;
Every clod feels a stir of might,
An instinct within it that reaches and towers,
And, groping blindly above it for light,
Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers;
The flush of life may well be seen
Thrilling back over hills and valleys;
The cowslip startles in meadows green,
The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice,
And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean
To be some happy creature's palace;
The little bird sits at his door in the sun,
Atilt like a blossom among the leaves,
And lets his illumined being o'errun
With the deluge of summer it receives;
His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings,
And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and sings;
He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest,
In the nice ear of Nature which song is the best?"    James Russell Lowell

    Yesterday's consignment auction was at a new time. In the past it's always been the second Saturday of August. The date change didn't seem to inhibit the consignments nor the bidders. The weather was so cool that a jacket felt good, unlike the hot August days of the past. Will it be June again if there is one? We'll wait and see.

Takk for alt,

Al

Malacca, Malaysia is very interesting because of the layers of cultures. First there was Malay, then Portuguese Colonial, followed by Dutch Colonial, which was followed by English Colonial and finally independence in 1957. 

Look what followed me home!

      From a casual observer the Sinai Volunteer Fire Department consignment auction today looked like another success. There was a commercial source of many brand new attachments for a skid steer. Selling brought significant money but they sold for much less than would have been paid at a dealer. Good for the Fire Department and good for the buyer. This is one picture of less than a fourth of what was for sale.

  

    But, I did not escape unscathed. This disc followed me home as I  had hoped. There was one other interested bidder so I paid a fair, but not unreasonable, price.

 Then there was this stalk chopper, which I can use, but no one else wanted, so, it was cheap and also followed me home.

Takk for alt,

Al

Pretty much , my life!

 

Incredible!

       Every year before (and after) Sinai Firemen's consignment auction we say "It's sold now, next year there won't be a much." What happens? Next year there's more. This year is no exception. It's hard to get pictures that do justice, but I'll try. Bidding begins at 10:00 and ends ??? when everything is sold. The professional auctioneers volunteer their time and effort and their 10% normal commission goes to the the fire department. Those volunteers do an incredible amount of work to keep the department solvent.

    Perhaps the amount of consignment shouldn't be a surprise in a culture that is continuously building more rental storage lockers. In the classified section of the Minneapolis Paper there are columns of advertisements listing lockers that are abandoned and the contents to be auctioned. 

   We're slow to learn that every thing we own ends up owning us. A former prisoner of war said, after his release, "I had a tremendous feeling of freedom when everything was taken from me."

Takk for alt,

Al   

Showered!

       Sinai's been showered recently, including today.  It's been unusual. Several times there have been small rain showers. These have been up to .3" a couple of times Other's smaller as today it was .2". Cumulatively, perhaps something over 1.5" total. This is certainly helpful and an advantage is that there is no run off.

    Bird sightings: twice it has been Red Headed Woodpeckers, which have lost population numbers. They were in separate woodlands so not the same bird seen twice. Three Brown Thrashers were seen together. These birds with a beautiful song are quite reclusive.  A Mallard Hen with 11 newly hatched ducklings were swimming near the road. A local farmer reported seeing a Pheasant hen with a brood of chicks. These chicks and ducklings will be fully grown by winter increasing their chance of survival.

   Sinai Firemen's annual consignment auction is Saturday. Included in the sale is a never erected Quonset building. The final sale advertisement took a half a page in the local advertiser and late consignments continue to arrive. So far the only tractor offered is a John Deere 4020. No, I'm not bidding.

Takk for alt,

Al

The gorgeous Red-headed Woodpecker is so boldly patterned it’s been called a “flying checkerboard,” with an entirely crimson head, a snow-white body, and half white, half inky black wings. These birds don’t act quite like most other woodpeckers: they’re adept at catching insects in the air, and they eat lots of acorns and beech nuts, often hiding away extra food in tree crevices for later. This magnificent species has declined severely in the past half-century because of habitat loss and changes to its food supply.

It can be tricky to glimpse a Brown Thrasher in a tangled mass of shrubbery, and once you do you may wonder how such a boldly patterned, gangly bird could stay so hidden. Brown Thrashers wear a somewhat severe expression thanks to their heavy, slightly downcurved bill and staring yellow eyes, and they are the only thrasher species east of Texas. Brown Thrashers are exuberant singers, with one of the largest repertoires of any North American songbird.

The advantage of hearing loss!

 

Book Report!

     Before passing it on to me L told me it was a very good. Reading it revealed that to be an understatement. It's one of those books that engages from the first page while getting better steadily in reading. Seldom do I read books currently on the NY Times current best seller list, but this is one.

    The Correspondent by Virginia Evans is totally in the form of letters sent and received, except for one that's more like a diary. Sybil, the primary character, a retired attorney living alone, has written, and, consequently received, letters since she was a girl. Now her pattern is to sit at her desk at 10:00 am every day and write letters.  These letters, and the replies she receives, constitute the book. A family tragedy much earlier in her life had a huge impact on her, to which she only comes to terms in her final years. 

   A brilliant and self reflective woman, her engagement with others causes her to significantly change in her latter years. The book is filled with the wisdom that comes with such reflection and her willingness to engage honestly with others. These include life long friends, family inc. a son and daughter, neighbors and young boy who's the son of a friend. She also writes  to authors, public figures and people in the news, often receiving a reply. Not only does she change with her correspondence so do others through her missives. Almost by accident long secret family members come to light.

   In her acknowledgments at the end of the book Evans give strong tribute to her husband, Mark. Then below the last line the acknowledgment is this.

   James 1:17

Takk for alt,

Al 

Shades of Thailand

        Joanne, the woman who'd go out in sub-zero weather with a wind breakers, did not like heat and humidity. She braved the tropical heat of SE Asia once, to visit our daughter. Walking in the cemetery today brought back memories of my time teaching school in Thailand. "Thailand was like this I thought." Living there without A/C was tolerable. 

      But, today?, with a cool house and good book I opted to leave the heat and humidity. There was nothing pressing on the work front. Cedars and rocks will wait. An exceptionally good book was a way to focus some time.

    Living the good life in The Little House!

Takk for alt,

Al

Find Al in this picture!

Puzzle?

        My two cornfields are 12 miles apart and as different as night and day. Field one is where the geese grazed last year. It's on a south slope with mature trees to the north. Geese grazed two thirds of it down to bare soil. With few cornstalks to bother I did minimum tillage before planting. The corn is growing nicely and weeds, especially water hemp, blanket the ground.

      Then there's the other field. No geese grazed there so there was much corn standing into the winter. When I chopped the stalks this spring the ground was yellow with shelled corn. During the days between chopping a plowing birds ate much of that waste corn...but not enough. Now the volunteer corn is no thick it's hard to determine where the rows are. Some weeds have begun to germinate. Both the corn and the weeds are much smaller in this field than in the other.

    Why is there such a difference in the two fields. Perhaps it's soil temperature. Where the growth is slow the soil was covered with chopped cornstalks acting as a blanket which wouldn't allow the ground to warm up. Then the ground was plowed, tilled and planted in a couple of days. After planting there were many days of cool or cold temperatures not conducive to warming the soil. That contrasts with the other field which tilts toward the sun and the black soil absorbing the sun's heat.

    This post is a testament to the simple life I lead.😄

Takk for alt,

Al

Erased!

     Yesterday while I was out cutting cedars, what else?, there was multi-bird serenade. Turning on the Merlin app, what else?, over twenty species were recorded. Many of the usual suspects; Bobolink, Grackle, Pheasant, Red-Wing and Yellow Headed blackbirds, Marsh Wren, Etc. Another one, very common in my experience, but one I'd never heard...a Pie Bill Grebe, a water bird.

    While standing in the grass recording, water behind a dam was not far away. In my youth we called Grebe's 'Hell Divers'. Swimming in the water a few yards away if anything alarmed them they'd dive and re-surface a long way away. In fact they were so elusive that attempts to shoot them was futile. So quick they'd be under water and away before shot reached them. (I know, shooting at them wasn't good and was even illegal.)  Recording one was a revelation to me. 

   Unfortunately I neglected to save the recording. Attempting to replay it back at the house and it was not retrievable. Perhaps I can re-record it later.

Takk for alt,

Al

 

The Pied-billed Grebe is the most widespread grebe in the New World, and the most familiar in most temperate parts of North America. Far less sociable than most grebes, almost never in flocks, sometimes found singly on small marshy ponds. When disturbed or suspicious, it may sink slowly until only head is above water. Rarely seen in flight. Often secretive in the breeding season, hiding in marsh, making bizarre whinnying, gobbling, cooing noises by day or night.

June 6, 1964

     It was beautiful June day, five days after graduating from Augustana, that Joanne and I were married. The wedding was at First Lutheran Church, Sioux Falls, S.D. Pastor Marcus Gravdal presided and Joanne's father, The Rev. Dr. Oscar C. Hanson did the homily. Choral music was provided by the Augustana College Choir. The late Mary (Hanson) Trodahl was the maid of honor and David Negstad the best man.

   Here's bit of humor connected to the event. As I was living at First Lutheran, assistant custodian and night watchman, the Norwegian wedding cake, kransakake, for the reception was kept in my apartment. Joanne's mother was very concerned that ants not find the cake, though in the year I'd lived there I'd never seen an ant. She provided my with ant poison to protect the pastry. Waking in the middle of the night, I realized I hadn't placed the poison so I got up and protected it. No ants found either the poison or the cake.

   I'm very grateful that we had a big fiftieth wedding anniversary party because three years later, she died. So, now for 8+ years I've lived in the land of grief with the presence of absence. Our marriage was a wonderful blessing to me, for which I'm eternally grateful.

Takk for alt,

Al

A kransakake that my granddaughter baked.

    

Best Gift Ever...

 

  

       For her 50th birthday I gave Joanne six weeks of dancing lessons. Her family of origin saw dancing as evil, but, with her musical background she understood rhythm. Living in Germanic Davenport, IA., every wedding featured a dance at the reception. We sat like bumps on a log while others danced.

      Lost in time is what led me to give her the Arthur Murray dancing lessons. After six weeks we renewed and renewed, for the two years we remained in Davenport. We picked up on the lessons when we moved to Minnesota.

      We'd go to a lesson tired from work and soon the fatigue would lift as we concentrated on the music and our steps. Now wedding dances were fun as we joined the dancers on the floor. 

      Joanne's father wrote a pamphlet That Dangerous Dance. We were dancing at a wedding reception which was attended by on of her father's friends. That friend accosted Joanne saying "What would your father say about you dancing?" Without missing a beat she replied, "He's in heaven now so he's free from those rules." The friend was speechless but his wife laughed out loud.

Takk for alt,

al

Marking Time While Weeds Sprout!

       The corn in my modest fields was reluctant to sprout. Was it planted too deep?  Was it cold soil and weather? The fact that weeds have also been slow to germinate suggests the corn's emergence is related to temperature and not depth of planting.

     The good news is that there is no sign of goose predation. Yesterday there were no observable geese on the water. The soybean field on the other side of the water has been fenced to keep the geese out. An electric fence powered by a solar unit keeps the geese at bay. If it's anything like other electric fences I've encountered one zap should be all a goose would need to learn a lesson. Local farmers who plant sweet corn also use electric fences to keep racoons out. Racoons with access to sweet corn will decimate a patch in one night.

    With the two pastures where cedars are invading are encircled with activated electric fencing. The shock of those fences is almost enough to knock me down. The cattle in one of those pastures are removed in early July. When they're gone I'll pursue those cedars. 

    Why do they leave in early July? These cattle graze on the invasive grasses which emerge in early spring. Their cropping encourages the native, summer grasses to flourish. It's taken over 30 years but gradually the native big bluestem grass has partially returned.

Takk for alt,

Al

Story

 

       There's a story about potato beetles that Dad told. Of course this was long before pesticides when potato beetles were menace. "An advertisement appeared in a farm paper. 'Sure fire method for ridding your potato patch of potato beetles. Send $5.00 to (address).' In response the sender received this message. 'Fill a quart jar half full of turpentine, drop the beetles into the jar.'"  The $5.00 at the time of the ad would be equivalent to about $100. today. 😀 Of course I neglected to ask if he'd sent $5.00!

       When I opened the door of my truck I was greeted by a jar of strawberry/rhubarb jam and six  chocolate chip cookies! Which reminds me of this story.  "Bruce was home visiting his mother in Sinai.

When they drove downtown she made sure to lock the car doors. 'Mom, do have to lock in Sinai?' 'Yes, if you don't lock your car in August, when you come back to it, it will be full of zucchini.'" 

Takk for alt,

al

Potato Bug also known as a Jerusalem Cricket. 

Little House!

        Leaving the OFH at 6:00 allows travel across Minneapolis at posted speeds, or, faster with the stream of traffic. Proceeding down Interstate 494, the four lane thoroughfare in South Minneapolis, what did I see in the rearview mirror but flashing red lights. "What did I do now?"  Five patrol cars, "I'm not dangerous!" weren't after me. They were pursuing a motorcycle at 100?mph. Seems very dangerous.

     Being a creature of habit my route to and from the OFH varies little. It suits me because most of it is on county roads with few towns and little traffic. About 90 miles from Minneapolis I connect with Hwy 212. Driving to town Wednesday I found 212 detoured a few miles. Perhaps a roundabout is being added. So today I took Highway 169 to St. Peter, then Nicollet and Highway 14. The 169 junction to Jordon is still one lane, which wasn't backed up at 6:30. Multiple signs proclaimed "USE BOTH LANES DURING BAKCUPS."  The detour on 212 is probably better.

    Driving through Nicollet means a mandatory stop at world famous Schmitt's Meat Market. Tonight's dinner was a scrumptious stuffed pork chop from Schmitt's. That stop is a definite plus for that route.

Takk for alt,

Al

Detour, there's a muddy road ahead, detour
Paid no mind to what it said
Detour, oh, these bitter things I find
Should have read that detour sign

Headed down life's crooked road
Lots of things I never knowed
Because of me not knowin', I now pine
Trouble got in the trail
Spent the next five years in jail
Should have read that detour sign

Detour, there's a muddy road ahead, detour
Paid no mind to what it said
Detour, oh, these bitter things I find

Should have read that detour sign

Tex Ritter

Schmitt's Meat Market

Ed never did this!

 

      Field stripping, i.e., disassembling our M-1 Rifles, became second nature. Woe betide the Marine who called his rifle a 'gun'. Care and maintenance of our rifles was a high priority.

       Beetle Bailey's experience with his rifle is similar to my experience of car or tractor mechanics. It seemed every time I disassembled an engine when the re-assembly was finished? there always remained a few parts. If any proof was needed this would have been sufficient evidence that being a mechanic was not my calling. 

Takk for alt,

Al

   

Seeing how I look after a couple weeks of a field exercise on Okinawa it's easy to imagine that my rifle would need cleaning.