Technology lifeline!

      Routines anchor my life. These days it's reading the Minneapolis and Washington papers online after breakfast. Typically about 10 a.m.Trygve and I head for the field. But today provided a delightful detour. It's homecoming weekend (virtual) at Luther College. As part of the festivities the Phi Beta Kappa chapter invited Luther College graduate, Dr. Bonnie Gunzenhauser to lecture on the future of liberal arts education. Through the wizardry of modern technology I was able to listen to Bonnie's lecture via zoom. Bonnie is wise, erudite and articulate. As an undergraduate she completed three majors, philosophy, political science and english in four years. Currently she is dean of John Carroll University, Cleveland, OH. 

      Her lecture was followed by question and answer. When I heard the questions I wondered "now what will she say." Without a pause she gave precise, articulate and profound responses. She made a spirited defense of liberal arts education quoting studies and research to defend her assertions.

     So, living in The Little House on the Prairie, in a tiny town, remote from any major population center I have easy access to such erudition! How different it is from pioneer days. In the very early records of admissions to the North Dakota State Hospital, Jamestown, N.D., is the record of a woman who was admitted. Her diagnosis? "Too long on the prairie."  It is certainly a new day!

Happy Halloween, or better, blessed All Saint's Day!

All Saints Sunday

       Daylight savings time ends Sunday. How much daylight has been saved? With the decrease of daylight this time of year in the northern hemisphere don't we want to save all the daylight we can? There aren't many clock in The Little House so it will not be a big job to change them.

     Sunday is also All Saints Sunday. It will be three years since Joanne's name was read in church on All Saints as one of the departed saints. She died in April so she'd been dead seven months and hearing her name revved up the grief. 

    There were two factors to that grief. First, and obviously, a poignant reminder that she was gone. The second factor surprised me when it struck me that her name will not be read the next year! It was the realization that now I must go on without her but her memory will begin to fade in the church community. It was a community she knew and loved and knew and loved her. Of course she is not totally forgotten but memories fade, people leave, and new people come who never knew her. Now this will be the second All Saints without naming her and her death moves toward ancient history.

      Remember the bereaved and that All Saints can be a difficult time for them. 

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                          Look what I got today!

                                                                  Squirrel patrol! 

Basking in the glow!

        As an old man, living in a little house, in a tiny town on a remote prairie it would be easy to imagine that I might be forgotten. Celebrating my birthday yesterday with cards, phone calls, text messages, emails, Facebook and then ZOOM, was overwhelming. Lisa and Lars scheduled a Zoom call for the day. Shortly after I signed on with their families we were joined by Sara, Neil, Paul, Kathie and on and on with my brother and his wife, nieces, nephews, grand-nieces/nephews with 4 generations represented. It was a lovely surprise and much better than a cake! 😉

     It's a powerful feeling to be remembered and very humbling. Mostly it fills me with gratitude that I am so blessed. So here I am in solitude but almost never lonely.  THANK YOU! THANK YOU1 THANK YOU!

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                               My pond at sunset.

Introvert is as introvert does.

        In conversation with a friend today he was recommending a movie that I should watch. It was necessary to remind him that I don't watch movies. This failure was a bit contentious in my relationship with Joanne. A few times a year I would, reluctantly sometimes, attend a movie with Joanne. She finally got to the point that she'd just attend movies with friends rather than wait for me.

      It wasn't until I read Susan Cain's Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, that I understood my reluctance to go to movies. Cain argues that dramatic movies are too intense for many introverts. It was an "aha" moment for me. A memory comes to mind. Many years ago when I was living in North Dakota I took a group of high school students to see The Poseidon Adventure. It's a movie about people trapped in a ship that has capsized. It traumatized me and my situation was not helped by it being Sunday afternoon when I was in adrenaline deficit from the morning's activities. Introverts have sensitivities that often make dramatizations too hard to bear.

      Isabel Wilkerson's book Caste: The Origins Of Our Discontent, which I'm about three fourths through, has many horrific stories illustrating the inhumanity people have experienced. Reading of these events I cringe but I can't imagine watching the scenes described on the screen.  It would  be far more than I could handle. (I highly recommend the book and will say more about it when I've finished it.)

     This pedicallo of mine may also explain why I've never learned to watch TV. Perhaps I'm just a control freak liking the control that reading gives me. Well, that's my story and I'm sticking with it.

Takk for alt

Al

PS Thanks for all the remembrances today! 😀

Amusing!

      With the advent of pheasant hunting season I've adhered to my plan of walking one a field a day. Yesterday was a miss as the dead battery in the truck occupied the time. Today was the first field walk where I failed to see a pheasant while walking. There were geese on Lake Joanne and a great blue heron flew out of a cedar tree which was a first in my experience. 10-12" of snow on the ground, not crusted because it's been cold, make walking a challenge. 

     So what is amusing? After walking the field in pursuit of pheasants I stopped by Joanne's cemetery and what did I see? Pheasants in the evergreen trees surrounding the cemetery. 😀  No, I didn't bother them, just smiled at the sight.

      Speaking of cold the thermometer registered zero this morning. Now zero, null, should be nothing so why does it feel so cold? The smaller ponds are frozen over but Lake Joanne and the larger bodies still have open water. The weather forecast says warmer temperatures are on the way.

Takk for alt,

Al

Stupid is as stupid does!

      As soon as I opened the door of the truck I realized my mistake. Driving home yesterday in the snow with my lights on I had neglected to turn them off when I parked. The ancient truck doesn't signal when lights are left on. My thermometer registered 8 degrees this morning, not the ideal situation for a discharged battery. If the charge goes too low the battery can freeze, cracking the case and ruining it. Luckily it withstood the cold night and took a charge so there is no need for battery replacement. A well equipped shop eliminates the need for AAA.

    I may be stupid but I'm NOT THAT StUPID!. The caller, claiming to be from the Social Security Administration, said "There may be some fraud related to your social security account. What is your last name and number?" Ya Right! My refusal to answer resulted in a quick dial tone.

    No new snow today...interesting that that should be remarkable in October!

Takk for alt

Al

                                                      The old truck with a cover of snow.

White Christmas?

      Anyone who is dreaming of a white Christmas can just stop now! It began snowing last evening and didn't stop until 2pm today. Several new inches of snow are on top of the previous inches. It was light, fluffy snow with no wind so there are no drifts. The long range forecast calls for temperatures in the 50s so we'll see what happens. 

    After posting last night's blog about being an introvert the difference in birthday celebrations for Joanne and me came to mind. Several times I facilitated large birthday events for Joanne. For one I rented a hotel ballroom, arranged for music and invited 200 of her closest friends. 😉 Was it at her big gathering for her 65th when she got 65 roses?  For her 80th, at her request, we gathered her nieces and nephews. Her last birthday was on Easter Sunday, she was in home hospice, and Grace University Lutheran sang happy birthday to her at the Easter Services. It was when she saw the video of that that she said "I never knew dying could be so glorious!" 

    The milestone slips my mind, perhaps my 65th?, and she offered to plan a big party for me. "No thanks" I said, "What I would like is a series of dinners with close friends, one couple at a time." That is what we did. This birthday pattern illustrates the difference between an introvert and an extrovert. 

Takk for alt

Al

                                                    This is a scene from today's hunt.

Introvert!

     A few years ago Susan Cain wrote a book titled Quiet: The Power of  Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking. Both Joanne and I read the book and had some excellent discussions about it. That book came to mind this morning when I participated in Grace University Lutheran's virtual men's breakfast via ZOOM. Asked how I was doing I jocularly said "I've been waiting my whole life for this."  It became clear from the comments of others at this breakfast that isolation is much harder for extroverts.

     While my comment was really flip it is true that my introversion makes this pandemic situation much easier for me than for many others. A subscription to The Washington Post online provides some excellent material. Under the rubric What Day Is It?, a daily reminder of what day of the week it is, very helpful in retirement, there are suggestions for coping with isolation. For example in today's post: Understand the difference between solitude and loneliness.  "If you use that time where you're alone in ways that bring you joy and peace, then that solitude can have a really positive effect on your life" Vivek H, Murphy, the former U.S. surgeon general told The Post in May. "But if that time alone makes you feel like something is wrong with you--say, you fear you're missing out--it can be destructive."

      "...brings you joy and peace..." Yes, that describes my experience being alone. More from The Post "Embrace the humble phone call. Generations have figured out how to stay entertained for hours on the phone. When video glitches start draining you, opt for a catch-up call with one person at a time." Yea and verily! That's the essence of my lifeline, everyday 1-3 calls minimum. Inevitably the callee says "Thank you for calling!"  It's very enriching.

      The reality that lies behind this is that I am really blessed. The Little House on the Prairie near my land, garage and Joanne's cemetery gives me opportunities few others are afforded. Adequate financial resources eliminates worry. Good health and eyesight allow significant physical activity and the possibility of extended reading. Reliable memory allows independent living....and much more. For all of this I am profoundly grateful!

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                   The pond across the street froze last night.

Finding hope.

         After days of overcast the sun is out and perhaps some snow will melt.  Weather forecast is for 60% chance of snow the next two days. This forecast does not suggest how much might accumulate. Sunshine is welcome after a spate of cloudy days.

       In the days of profound grief after Joanne died a friend frequently asked "Where do you find hope?" Today in a telephone conversation she suggested blogging about hope. During those first bitter days I remember saying that hope was found in relationships. That remains true today. Lisa's daily calls allows me to "share my day". That's hope inspiring. Lars 'face times' regularly so I get to see the family, more hope inspiration. Phone calls with other family members and friends connect me to a web of relationships which fosters hope.

      It was a helpful reminder, that suggestion to think about hope. Thinking about it helps clarify how different life is now, in the land of grief, compared with those first months after Joanne died. My life has achieved a healthy stasis. Small routines give structure to my life and connecting with others via phone and email assures me that I am not alone nor forgotten, There is so much for which to be grateful!

Takk for alt

Al

Ankle Deep!

         With the rocks picked just before pheasant season, and the snow, I've substituted hunting for rock picking exercise. Each day I walk one field and every day I've been gratified to see pheasants. A great blue heron was winging across the field today, not in a hurry to migrate. It's been several days since I've seen egrets or pelicans but there's no ice on the ponds yet.

        It's been overcast since the snow came with temperatures around freezing so there hasn't been much melting yet. The ground's not frozen so I expect the snow to disappear. Six inches of snow is my guess and it means hunting in snow that's ankle deep. It does make walking more difficult but that's better exercise. A number of pheasants flew up today and I did not hurt any of them. Tracks in the snow reveal that they are feasting on the corn planted for them which makes me happy.

"If you’re an introvert, you value your alone time. You tend to think before you speak. You’d much rather socialize one-on-one than in a group. A phone call is probably your worst nightmare. But most of all, you are silently strong."  This preamble was printed by Twitter before posting a number of tweets from introverts. 😉😉

Takk for alt,

Al

What's normal?

" When I hear people talk about life getting back to normal after the vaccine, frankly I have qualms. I’ve lived a long time and seen a number of normals and don’t think normality is what we should settle for. Some of us have come to appreciate this simpler contemplative time. I don’t long to be in crowds again. I don’t miss going to restaurants, the shouted conversations, the strangers at your elbow. I prefer Netflix to movie theaters, the popcorn is better. And dinner parties — do we have to? I remember that awful point in the evening when you try to think of a nice way to say, “I wish you people would all go home now.”" Garrison Keillor.

    This reminds me of people hankering for the good old days. Such nostalgia looks at the past through rose colored glasses. Accurately remembered the past was not always so wonderful. The primary difference is that we were young. 

     What will be the new normal once the pandemic has subsided? Will we lose what we've gained in our responses to the threat of COVID? Somethings will likely be worse while other realities will be better. It certainly is an interesting time in which to live.

     My situation for riding out the storm is certainly enviable and I am grateful.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS I'd guess we got 5" of snow yesterday and a bit more today. The moisture is welcome and fortunately most of the harvest is complete. Because the ground is not frozen I expect most of the snow to melt soon.  

Recommended Listening

       Clearly my preferred learning style is visual rather than auditory. Consequently I love reading. Blessed with good eyesight there are still limits on how much time I can spend reading each day. During the spring, summer and early fall that has not been an issue becasue I have so many outdoor projects. In anticipation of winter, when likely I'll be more confined to indoors, I've begun to explore podcasts. With my handy hearing aids the audio of the podcasts is received by my hearing aids allowing me to listen and understand with ease.

     Among my first forays into podcasts is Oprah's Book Club.  Oprah says Caste: The Origins of our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson is the most important book ever considered on the Club. Wilkerson has won the Pulitzer Prize and is author of the best selling The Warmth Of Other Suns, which details the migration of African Americans from the South to northern cities.  Wilkerson and Oprah have eight podcasts about Caste.

    Having read Warmth I was well aware that Wilkerson was a fine writer and researcher. Hearing her on Oprah's podcasts proves that she is also phenomenally articulate. Not all writers can speak as well as they write but Wilkerson does. Oprah invites others into the podcast, several of whom have been mentioned in the book. 

    Wilkerson writes "As we go about our daily lives, caste is the wordless usher in a darkened theater, flashlight cast down in the aisles, guiding us to our assigned seats for a performance. The hierarchy of caste is not about feelings or morality. It is about power--which groups have it and which do not."

     Oprah's  8 sessions with Wilkerson, are each a half-hour. I highly recommend them.   

Takk for alt,

Al

                                               My truck viewed from the front steps...5" perhaps.

Heart Breaking

       Richard (Dick) Olson retired from Ameriprise in 1990. About that time with Frode, a WWII bomber pilot who had retired earlier from the FAA, we formed three of a golf foursome with Don, Frode's son's father-in-law. The three of us played together until 2017, with others completing the foursome over the years. Thursday was golf day and for many years we played a variety of courses. Eventually we settled in at Lakeview for several years until it closed then moving to Shamrock.  In the earlier years we would begin in the spring as soon as courses opened and play into autumn. Handicaps were maintained and the losers would would buy lunch at McDonalds. Perhaps you can imagine the world problems that were solved in conversation among us. Unfortunately a computer crash makes it impossible to analyze how many total rounds were played.

     Dick and his wife, Grace who was known as Jo, were outstanding church members. Dick was instrumental in the establishment of  the churches' benevolent foundation, served on the council, was a long time member of the finance committee and chaired the internship committee. His contributions were always wise and respectful. Jo suffered severe hearing loss which limited her participation though she was very perceptive and always a positive influence. She died 30 months ago and her funeral was the day Joanne was buried in Sinai. 

      Dick, age 92, called me today to say he's in home hospice care. His daughter and son-in-law are caring for him. Joanne frequently said "Grief touches grief." That was abundantly clear today when Dick told me his news and immediately I was thrust into grief; for Dick, for Joanne and for all the other losses I've experienced.  Dick was hospitalized for five weeks with an infection that could not be localized. Apparently this has been too much for his system and his situation is not COVID related. COVID complicates the grieving though because it will not be possible to visit him nor attend services. We had an excellent conversation and it was special that he called me to report the news in person.

        What about Frode? He's alive, well and both body and mind are well intact at age 96. He's occupied caring for his wife, of the same age, who has memory issues.  Frequently I would tell Dick and Frode that "I want to be like you when I grow up."

        So, that's my melancholy report from the land of grief.

Takk for alt

Al

Autumn has certainly fallen.

      The yard of The Little House has only one tree, a large spruce. Yet this yard has more leaves than any of the neighbors, who have the trees, thanks to persistent winds. Nature put the leaves here nature can take them away. Perhaps it's time for a Mary Oliver poem.

      Mary Oliver (b. 1935)

Fall Song

Another year gone, leaving everywhere
its rich spiced residues: vines, leaves,

the uneaten fruits crumbling damply
in the shadows, unmattering back

from the particular island
of this summer, this NOW, that now is nowhere

except underfoot, moldering
in that black subterranean castle

of unobservable mysteries — roots and sealed seeds
and the wanderings of water. This

I try to remember when time's measure
painfully chafes, for instance when autumn

flares out at the last, boisterous and like us longing
to stay — how everything lives, shifting

from one bright vision to another, forever
in these momentary pastures.

       The day offer me another opportunity to walk in the field. Life is good!

Takk for alt,

Al

Solo

        The third Saturday of October long had a festive air. From way back that's been the first day of pheasant hunting season in South Dakota. For many years family would gather to walk corn fields and shelterbelts in pursuit of pheasants. Before we were married Joanne even joined to walk along. Then we got married and she said "I don't have to do that anymore." 😊 She loved to cook pheasants as a company meal.

       Today I went hunting solo though that's not quite accurate because Trygve accompanied me. While he's a great companion there is not the same festive experience but, hunt we did. The good news is that, though we didn't hunt very long in the 23 mph wind, we saw quite a few pheasants. It was also a lovely walk, except for the wind, though I never fired a shot. Wind makes the pheasants spooky because they can't hear the approach of predators, including hunters, as well. Consequently they fly up father away. The wind also annoys the hunter because it's unpleasant. 

      It's been years since I was resident in this hunting country. The hunting season is long, lasting until the first Sunday in January. So, this fall, I will have much opportunity to hunt therefore didn't feel a need to prolong hunting today in the strong wind. As has been said in another context "tomorrow is another day."

Takk for alt

Al

Trygve with his hunting haircut.

 

                                                                  My pond this morning.

Snow

      Snow overnight, what does that portend? How will life in The Little House seem in January and February? There's one way to find out, isn't there? Stay tuned.

     After my rock picking obsession I spent this cold brisk morning in my shop. There were a number of small projects that were left as I concentrated on rocks. Two cars are parked in the garage for the winter and the '79 Lincoln left after 16 months. Two more cars are yet to arrive. It's such a big warehouse type of space that's too expensive to heat. The plan is to turn the furnace on while I'm working there to see if it's feasible to work when it's really cold outside. It was built in 1907 so insulation wasn't included. 

   "I feel an opportunity to recommit to simplicity and the founding principles of my line. We're all about sustainability but still producing more and more, when maybe less is more, and maybe it's about having a better and more simple life." Eileen Fisher in a Nordstrom ad, in the September 7, 2020 issue of The New Yorker.

      "Less is more..."  Is life in The Little House 'more with less'? Perhaps, I certainly don't feel deprived.The weekly evening  I used to spend with my granddaughters is a big void.  Not teaching this fall...I miss the students. Not seeing family and friends is a loss. Yet, there are ways in which my simple life here is very satisfying. Life is meaningful and I am blessed.

Takk for alt

Al

Food fight!

     When I placed two ears  of corn in the front yard I expected fox squirrels to run off with them. Instead they provoked a food fight! Two blue jays squared off against blackbirds. The blackbirds had numbers but the jays were more proficient at extracting the kernels from the cobs. Winners? Blue jays!

     I FINISHED picking rocks!!!!!! No doubt there are still rocks in the field but I've covered all the ground, at least once, now! The next nice day I'll take the loader to pick up the one rock to heavy to lift. This gives me a sense of accomplishment and now I can turn to other tasks...persistence pays off. 

     My grass was host to a neighbor's cattle again today. He'd let them out of his pasture into a soybean field that he'd harvested. Deer, running at night don't see the electric fence wire he was using to contain them and knock it down. The farmer's pasture, from which they enter the bean field, doesn't have enough grass left for them because it hasn't rained for weeks. They're welcome to my grass. 

Takk for alt,

Al

So excited about my ability to post pictures again I'll post a random shot or two. 😊

                                       Where will my neighboring tortoise spend the winter?

Inadequate

           No matter what anyone says information technology education was inadequate during the eight years I attended a one room country school. We had no computers, laptops, or smartphones. We thought it was a big deal that the school was wired for electricity. Ever since I've been playing technological catch up. When  a computer malfunctions it doesn't seem to help no matter how many times I press, nor how hard, a key. Well, I'm back on the laptop now and I'll see if I can upload photos.

        The 26 mph wind (over 30 now) drove me out of the field after one small load of rocks. Then I turned to fencing. American rules make it the owners of livestock responsibility to keep them contained. The last two days I've discovered neighbor's (two different neighbors) cattle in my grass. It's not serious and a couple of phone calls solved the problem. No, I don't have livestock. Deer hunters here have the proclivity of driving around in pick-ups looking for deer. Open land they see as invitation to drive in. So, I was attempting to fence deer hunters out.

     In Norway, opposite of America, land owners need to fence livestock out if they don't them on their land. When we were visiting Joanne's cousin in Norway she shooed cattle out of her yard. She said the owner turned them loose in the spring to free range and rounded them up in the fall. Apparently the same rule applies in Thailand. The house where I stay had pigs, cattle and goats come into the yard. 

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                                 Free range Asian hog.

                                                    No computers in this school.

                                                                 Harrowing the field.

                                                            The view from the tractor seat.

Well then?

 Lately I’ve not been able to post pictures on this blog. In an effort to correct this issue I signed out of the blog on my laptop. Now I can’t access the blog on it so am doing this on my phone.

I am fine and will try to get the laptop issue solved so I can type.

Takk for alt,

Al

Thirty months now!

      It's now thirty months since Joanne died. Grief certainly recedes to a different reality over time. Does time heal all wounds?  As I've written previously that the raw excruciating pain of the early days of bereavement have morphed into a dull ache. Even that ache is now less present. The isolation of the pandemic would have been hard for her. Likely she'd fill these days with phone banking for favorite candidates which was an activity she enjoyed. Wandering her cemetery I ponder the time spans on the markers of married couples noting how long between their deaths. (Vera lived 40 years after her husband died!)  

     The poems says "And tell you about my day."  Yes, that is a great loss to tell and to listen about our days, which so often were spent apart.

Missing You

© John P. Read 

Still I hear those voices
From a time so long ago.
I see so many faces
But not the one I love and know.

I walk the same old streets,
Hear your footsteps just the same.
How I'd love to wake tomorrow
And walk with you once again.

Just to look into your eyes
And tell you about my day.
It's those little things I miss
Since the day you went away.

I now pray to God in heaven
To keep you in his care,
To comfort you and heal this hurt
Until the day I meet you there.

      Of course I'm really blessed and yet, I really miss her!

Takk for alt,

Al

       

Passion and prejudice!

       During the Revolutionary War the thirteen states of America were loosely connected under The Articles of Confederation. The American Government had no ability to levy taxes. Support of the Continental Army depended upon the voluntary contributions of the states and was woefully inadequate. In an effort to support the troops The United States printed paper money with little or no backing. The consequence of this action was severe inflation with the money soon almost worthless.

     In response to the inflation, much of which was driven more by fear than reality, Alexander Hamilton wrote "People are governed more by passion and prejudice than an enlightened sense of their interests." Applying this to a very different situation it seems his observation is an apt description of politics in our day.

    A serious evaluation of our own passions and prejudices is always in order. How firmly do we stand for what is right, good, honorable and beautiful? Let the change begin with us.

Takk for alt,

Al

Welcome Sabbath!

         Another beautiful day! The level of my activity with rock picking and all makes me look forward to a sabbath rest. It's the rhythm with which I was raised, six days of work and Sunday off. The only work we did on Sunday was caring for the livestock. During my working life I worked weekends, but it wasn't that different because it was just switching Saturday and Sunday. The weekend responsibilities didn't weigh that heavily on me. It was the evening meetings that wore me down 3,000-5,000? during my working life.

    The egret is still gracing my pond. When will she/he head south?  Several pheasants flew up around me today. Hunting season opens next Saturday....S.D. has a long tradition of opening on the third Saturday in October. The last few years the season has extended to the first Sunday in January? Why? So hunters buy another year's license. 😃

Takk for alt

Al

Stress test!

       While resident in the 15th floor condo, in Mpls, I'd walk/bike/exercise Trygve first thing in the morning (6am). Returning to the condo we'd take the stairs, 214 steps but who's counting? This was my daily stress test, if I didn't have a heart attack doing the climb I assumed I was good for the day and that was correct. There are 3 steps into The Little House so not much stress. Perhaps rock picking is the new stress test.

     Today's weather is what I've been waiting for to do some more tractor work. 80 degrees with a light breeze, what could be more perfect? Harrowing the field which was disced to break up thatch was the project...the same site as rock picking. It was rough riding and that takes energy, too, but it's much better than strong wind. There's been no rain for weeks, trees and grass both would like a drink.

Takk for alt,

Al

Five day hiatus!

        Back on the rock pile (field) five days off and already conditioning slips. Perhaps I just should not take more than a day off. The good news, however, is signs of progress. Hillsides, with years of erosion  have the most rocks, and, while there's not a flat place on the field, I've now done some of the steepest hills. Who knows, I may finish it. The 22 mph SE winds would have been more welcome yesterday to boost my mileage as I drove back from Mpls into a NW wind. Indian summer...73 degrees.

       Sixteen pelicans swimming on my dam suggest there may be fish in it. They are fish eaters so perhaps there are bullheads, minnows or? The water's not very deep except for an old dugout to water stock which was flooded by the dam. That may be deep enough to  provide wintering for some fish.

     All's well with me, leaves are falling so _______ is coming. Then what? We'll see!

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                           The pond this morning.

                                       

Feels like home!

       In days past when I was living in the condo in Minneapolis The Little House felt like a place to visit. The tables are turned, now the condo seems a place to visit and The Little House feels like home. Mission accomplished; saw a soccer game, had dinner with friends, saw my family, did some business and filled the freezer. It was a good trip!

        A beautiful drive home. The trees in the Twin Cities are at their peak of color, the sun was out, harvest is in full swing, fall tillage relies less on moldboard plowing so the soil is more protected, beets are being lifted...my county roads route has very little traffic. There are fewer red leaves here than in Mpls but some maples have been planted over the last few years so there is more color than there used to be. 

    I'm blessed and happy to be in The Little House!

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                                              The Little House.

Former life...

    Being back in the condo in Mpls feels like a former life. On the one hand it feels perfectly natural to be in the space, almost as if I never left. Yet, there's a feeling like, 'this is a former life', which I suppose in some ways it it is. 

   It's always great to connect with family and seeing a granddaughter's soccer game for the first time ever is very special. Tonight I had the opportunity of a dinner with friends, outside in a safe manner, and that was very satisfying. It seemed almost normal. No one here cares how many rocks are in the field. This little outing is just more evidence of the blessings in my life. Yes, I'm very grateful.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS:  I suggest you read Isabel Wilkerson's book Caste; The Origins of our Discontent...likely one of the most important books in a decade.

                                                        A beautiful evening for soccer.

New location!

    It's to be a quick trip, to Mpls, where I am now, and back to The Little House on Wednesday. The weather's too nice to dawdle long in the city when there are rocks to pick and other outdoor activities in South Dakota. My crop survey estimate is that 10-20% of the beans between here and The Little House remain to be harvested with much fall tillage completed. It appears that 10-20% of the corn has been combined. 

    A golden eagle feasting on road kill on the bluff above the Minnesota River gave me a good view. It seems I'm more likely to see bald eagles than golden. A turkey vulture was flying away, chased off by the eagle?

    This visit allows me to catch my granddaughter's soccer game, pick up some food, see family and attend to some business matters. The convenience of a condo is 'turn the key and leave'. With COVID downtown living is less appealing. But, as some famous person once said, "This too shall pass."      

    Now with access to my desktop perhaps it's an occasion for some random pictures. 😜

Takk for alt,

Al

                                                                      Sunset from the condo. 

                           The only corn picker I've seem with two elevators.

                               Another view of the picker, seen at Mount  Pleasant, IA, threshing show.
                                                                                         . 

Age factor...

      An article in the Minneapolis StarTribune, from the Washington Post, said that the silent generation, i.e., over age 74, report a low level of pandemic stress. Only 5% reported severe stress from COVID. A huge caveat would be those in long term care facilities.

       Why is my cohort relatively comfortable. Assuming adequate finances there are factors making our life easier, we do not have actively parent nor worry about job security and mot of us don't even have to go to a job. Perhaps, too, in elderhood we've seen enough of life's ups and downs to have helpful perspective. Things happen, we know, and "this, too, shall pass" is a likely mantra.

     It was a helpful reminder to me of how fortunate I am which reminds me to grateful. Yes, yes, yes, I am blessed.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS: My friend Peter sent me the email note reprinted below. You may remember him from his previous poetry book: Adding the Subtractions: Poems of Love and Grief,  P.M.F Johnson, which were composed while his father was dying.  

"I just want to let you know I have published a new book of poetry, A Life in the Day, on Amazon (both in paperback and as an eBook). It's a life's journey through poetry, from the naivete of youth through the rigors of age, a wry but generally upbeat look at what can go right, or wrong, over a lifetime. I kind of think of this book as my greatest hits, as these poems have sold to many markets over the years."

                                          The frosty view of the cemetery this morning at sunrise.

Marker

       For the second time in a month I attended an auction of property of a contemporary. In conversation with another peer at today's auction, in reference to the sale, I said "This is in our future." He replied "I know."  What did I buy? some chain and a box of miscellaneous tools, $24 so you see a big spender. 

      It was at an historic homesite for caucasian settlement in the area. Mark, the seller's grandfather was one of the first white settlers in the community. It was in that home that the first church services in the community were conducted. None of the original buildings remain and Mark is in a long-term care facility.

    Standing around the sale was more tiring than picking rocks! Auctions are entertaining, seeing who will pay what for things. Some of the buyers buy to resell. Of the 200(?) people there I knew less than 20. When I left at 3:00 it appeared that it would take 2 more hours to sell everything. For much of the day selling was going simultaneously in two rings. The weather was good and it was fortunate that the strong winds previously during the week subsided.

Takk for alt,

Al

Thornes, thistles and...and rocks!

     "...cursed is the ground becasue of you; in toil shall you eat of it all the days of your life; thorns and thistles it shall bring forth to you..." Genesis 3: 17b-18a. Perhaps if the Garden Of Eden had been glaciated God would have added "rocks" to the thorns and thistles with which he admonishes Adam.

      As a boy I remember that Canada Thistles were so rare that we'd stop the tractor to pull them by hand (using pliers to avoid the stickers).  We know now that pulling only annoyed them becasue they grew again from the roots left in the soil. Now Canada Thistles are ubiquitous.   My brother, the late Richard, after Alfred Hitchcock released the movie Birds, said "a horror movie should be made about thistles." More recently musk thistles have joined the fray. At least rocks don't reproduce even though it may seem that they do. I'm reframing rocks as good exercise in fresh air. 😁

        When I was living in North Dakota fifty years ago farmers told of using russian thistle (famous as tumbleweeds) for hay during the drought in the 1930s. Harvested when green they had enough feed value to sustain livestock without other feed available.

       Maxine Kumin says it poetically.

Why There Will Always Be Thistle
by Maxine Kumin

Sheep will not eat it
nor horses nor cattle
unless they are starving.
Unchecked, it will sprawl over
pasture and meadow
choking the sweet grass
defeating the clover
until you are driven
to take arms against it
but if unthinking
you grasp it barehanded
you will need tweezers
to pick out the stickers.

Outlawed in most Northern
states of the Union
still it jumps borders.
Its taproot runs deeper
than underground rivers
and once it’s been severed
by breadknife or shovel
—two popular methods
employed by the desperate—
the bits that remain will
spring up like dragons’ teeth
a field full of soldiers
their spines at the ready.

Bright little bursts of
chrome yellow explode from
the thistle in autumn
when goldfinches gorge on
the seeds of its flower.
The ones left uneaten
dry up and pop open
and parachutes carry
their procreant power
to disparate venues
in each hemisphere
which is why there will always
be thistle next year.

Takk for alt,

Al

                                      How far did the glacier roll this rock to make it round?

Recommended reading.

        There are books that are fun to read and there are books that are fun to read while making you think in new ways. I am neither a physicist nor a Buddhist so a novel that combines quantum theory and Zen Buddhism stretches my mind. The book jacket says about Ruth Ozeki's A Tale For The Time Being, "On a remote island in the Pacific Northwest, a Hello Kitty lunchbox washes up on the beach. Tucked inside is the diary of a sixteen-year-old Japanese girl named Nao Yatutani. Ruth--a writer who finds the lunchbox--suspects that it is debris from Japan's 2011 tsunami. Once she begins to read the diary, Ruth quickly finds herself drawn into the mystery of Nao's fate. Meanwhile in Tokyo, Nao, uprooted from her home in the U.S., bullied at school, and watching her parents spiral deeper into disaster, has decided to end her life. But first she wants to recount the story of her great-grandmother, a 104-year-old Zen Buddhist nun,  in the pages of her secret diary."

      There are interesting juxtapositions in this tale. Fictional Ruth, of Japanese descent, is married to fictional Oliver. Author Ruth's mother was Japanese and Ruth is married to Oliver in real life. The fictional couple live on an Island northwest Canada. In real life Ozeki lives in British Columbia and New York.

      The book is very engaging and the diary sections are a fascinating look at life in Japan. In fact the diary entrees were some of the most interesting and readable parts. Ozeki, herself is a Zen Buddhist priest. Her posing quantum theory next Zen Buddhism is mind stretching. In an appendix she gives a very clear explanation of Schrodinger's Cat. Can a thing be observed without the observation changing the thing observed? The fictional couples' fictional cat is named Schrodinger. 😀

       Well written, engaging, one reviewer said "it's bewitching, intelligent, hilarious and heartbreaking often on the same page. It was finalist for the Booker Prize, it's Ozeki's third novel. Yes, I definitely recommend it!

Takk for alt,

Al

It's Jimmy Carter's birthday today.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Jimmy Carter said: “A strong nation, like a strong person, can afford to be gentle, firm, thoughtful, and restrained. It can afford to extend a helping hand to others. It is a weak nation, like a weak person, that must behave with bluster and boasting and rashness and other signs of insecurity.”