200 Pictures of Mt. Fuji?

       Many places have iconic mountains. Think of Kilimanjaro in Africa, Everist is Nepal, Harney Peak in South Dakots, Mt. Mckineley in Alaska, Fitz Roy in the Andes,  and Mount Rainer in Washington. Fuji in Japan figures huge in Japanese literature, culture and psyche.

      A couple of nights ago this blog was about Marine Corps cold weather training in the Sierra Nevada mountains of northern California. There was even cold weather training for Marines in Asia. The Japanese Island of Okinawa was our titular home. This Island lies well south of the main Japanese Islands. Its location gives it a semi-tropical climate...no cold weather facilities there.

     In early November 1961, we embarked aboard ship headed for Japan's main island and cold weather training. The weather encountered going to Japan was some of the roughest I experienced at sea. The little liberty ship carrying us bounced and rolled. Arriving in Japan we disembarked and were herded into the backs of heavy trucks for the trip to our tent camp. It was dark when we landed so the entire trip to camp was in darkness.

      We dismounted the trucks and moved into our tents, home for the next couple of months. "We're on the slopes of Mt. Fuji" we were told. Arising in the morning we could catch glimpses of the mountain above us through low hanging clouds...a photo op. It was snow capped only at the highest elevation. A few days later the clouds dispersed giving a full view of Fuji with some snow on it's peak...a photo  op. It wasn't long until a snowstorm brought the snowline lower...a photo op. Fuji at sunrise presented a brilliant visage...a photo op. Sunset bathed the mountain in a warm glow...a photo op. Soon another snowstorm brought the snowline much lower...moring, evening, noontime...more photo ops. Traveling by train to Tokyo Mt. Fuji stood on the far horizon...another photo op.

    That's how I have 200 pictures of Mt. Fuji! 😀

Takk for alt,

Al

   

                         Guess this mountain.

Cemetery projects.

       When Grandpa Bergh graduated from Redwing Lutheran Seminary in 1884, he was sent by the Hauges Synod to found a congregation in South Dakota. This he did four miles south of Volga. The church stood about a half a mile west of his house which was on 80 acres he bought. He served that congregation and several others until his retirement. After the church closed it was moved to his son's farm, the one Grandpa bought in 1884, and used as a grainery.

      Remaining on the ground where the church stood is the Bergh Cemetery. Most of those buried there were connected to Grandpa's church, Bethania Lutheran. I've had the footstones of Grandpa, Grandma, two of their infant children and two of their adult children placed on granite foundations. Near their graves is that of Bertha Mostue, Grandma's aunt, and that stone has also been placed on a granite foundation.

     A year ago one of  the granparent's grandchildren, Mildred Bergh Dick died. Mildred's family gave a memorial gift in her memory to the cemetery association that cares for the cemetery. Brick gateposts to the cemetery are being constructed with that memorial gift. The brick work is complete. On one post will be a tribute to Mildred. On the other post a similar plaque will indicate that the cemetery is property of First Lutheran Church, Volga.   Thee plaques have yet to be installed.

Takk for alt,

Al

                Gatepost to the Bergh Cemetery.

Cold Weather Training

        Twice, while I was in the Marines, we went to cold weather training. Once in California and then in Japan. In California we were bused from Camp Pendleton, near San Diego, to Bridgeport, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains above Lake Tahoe. At Bridgeport we were transferred to trucks for the last climb to our tent camp. When we arrived at camp the first Marine to get out of the truck jumped down. He jumped down on a patch of ice and took a hard fall. He grew up in Los Angeles and never walked on ice. So, the cold weather training began. 😀

      The company commander for our company, H Company, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Division, was Captain Gaffney. Either in WW II, or the Korean Conflict, he'd been promoted from a non-comissioned officer to officer status. Captian Gaffney was fanatic for conditioning, which meant we ran a lot. That conditioning came into play in cold weather training.

      After some time of general training about maneuvers there was a war game. There are four companies in a battalion. For the game one company was designated as the enemy with the other three in pursuit. Because of our forced conditioning the other companies could not keep us with us as we travelled on snowshoes up and down the mountains. Had we been in actual combat the captain's conditioning routine would have saved lives.

     A little side bar about snowshoeing in mountains. If the slope is long and steep it's possible to ski down the mountain on snowshoes. Squat down on the snowshoes, grab the back of them and go for a slide. There's no turning and stopping at the bottom means tumbling in the snow. Of course we had full backpacks, rifles, helmets, etc. so climbing out of the snowbank was a challenge.

     Compared to winter in South Dakota it wasn't very cold but it was cold enough for snow. 

Takk for alt,

Al

                       Sierra Nevada Mountains.

First Plane Ride.

      Do you remember your first plane ride. Perhaps it was to an exotic place like Hawaii. If it was a long time ago, likely you and the other passangers were dressed nicely. There was a time when everyone dressed in nice clothes for flying. I wouldn't mow the lawn in clothes that some wear on planes today. Yes, that dates me...but that's okay because I've lived through many calendar dates.

    San Diego, CA., was the destinatioin of my first place ride after boarding in Omaha, NB. Maybe you've guessed that I was on my way to Marine Corps Boot Camp. A bus from Arlington, SD, took me to Omaha and it passed right by our farm along US Highway 81. My Dad took me to Arlington and likely the bus passed the farm before he was home again.

    In Omaha recruits from the area were boarded on a plance for San Diego.  There was only one person on the planc I knew, John Bergland, and I only knew him slightly. The plane was a four engine DC-6. The flight was fun though concerns about what lay ahead took some edge off the pleasure. 

    Waiting for us at the airport in San Diego was a Marine Sergeant who failed to recognize how significant we were as he ordered us into the back of a truck. He could have used some refinement from Miss Manners. Huddled in the back of that truck we wondered what we'd gotten ourselves into? We soon found out!

Takk for alt,

Al

                                     A DC-6.

Tractor Galore!

      After seeing hundreds of tractors yesterday there were more to be seen at a farm aunction today. Auctions are always interesting to see what is sold and the sale price. This farmer, deceased, was a tractor collector so there were many to sell.

    The sale scenario has changed. In the past the largest items sold last and typically that included tractors. That meant waiting through the sale of many small items for those interested in tractors, etc. With the advent of the internet this sale, like many now, was both for bidders present at the sale and others connected online. The sale bill said that the tractors and large items would sell at 10:00, and be available to both bidders who were present and those following online. As the auctioneer chanted he'd insert "$$ online bid" and then the price asked would reflect that offer. When the large items were sold the auctioneer annouced the end of online bidding.

    From 1965-1972 John Deere marketed a tractor of aprroximately 150 horsepower, labeled 5020. In 1965 that was considered huge. On today's sale was a modified 5020. The John Deere engine had been replaced by a 6 cylinder Cummings Diesel. The tractor chassis had been lengthend to accomodate the new engine. It sold for $10,000.00 to a man from Sinai so I'll see it again. No, I was not the buyer, 😀 but it would be a fun toy...nor did I buy anything else.

Takk for alt,

Al

                              Today's sale.

Reunion!

       Three of us went to the threshing show today near Madison, S.D. called Prairie Village. There were hundreds of tractors on display. Out of all those tractors I spotted one that I sold a few years ago. It is 1955 Minneapolis Moline GB. It had different rear tires, not the mismatched ones that were on it when I owned it. It was sold on Sinai Firemen's consignment auction and the buyer told me it was going to Prairie Village. That was a happy reunion. 

       When I returned to Sinai after my discharge from the Marines I had a conversation with the late Albert Erstad, a local farmer. Albert was a veteran of WW I, and he had a lively sense of humor. He said "Military life is very easy so it's an adjustment to civilian life. So just sit in a rocking chair on the porch and after a week you can rock a little." 😁 That conversation came to mind with the comic strip below.

Takk for alt,

Al

At Prairie village....

                                              In my shop...

PS A reader asked what I do with the rocks. Some go in a rock pile, some on the road over the dam I drive across and some in the breach of another dam. A muskrat tunneled the dam and water running through it breached the dam. It's scheduled to be repaired soon.

Yes, I'm....

     Yes, I'm fortunate, lucky, blessed, felicitous, priviledged.... Yes, I'm grateful.  Responding to a friend's question "What's the best part of your life?"  I replied "All of it!"   Today as an example I got to spend the morning outdoors enjoying the beautiful weather doing something worthwhile. Money's not a worry, health is good, family and friends stick with me...gratutude is the order of the day!!!

Takk for alt,

Al

                           Good stand of big bluestem this year..

                   Put the new loader to work and it worked well. 😀

The tip of the iceberg.

        The tip of the icebergh has become a methaphor for many things that are mostly out of sight. It stems from the reality that only about one tenth of an iceberg is visible above water, the nine tenths hidden below the surface. This idea came to mind as I remove rocks from the grassland. There are some stones that are lying above ground but they are the minority. Most of the rocks only show a little above ground with most it hidden below. When prying them out of the ground what surfaces is always a surprise.

       The rock pictured below only showed a little above ground, like the tip of an iceberg. Some are so large that a long crow bar doesn't wiggle them. They are left for a later time. Look carefully at the rock pictured and the clean, shiny part is that which showed above ground.

       What a life???  Rocks, the most interesting part of my day.  😉      

Takk for alt,

Al

              The light colored area is all that showed above ground.

Dislikes!

      There wer many tasks I disliked as a youth on the farm. These included milking cows, watering calves, picthing hay, shocking grain, thresing grain and pitching manure. Worst of all was picking rocks. It was a job of early spring, hard work and a raw wind whipped dirt in my face. What would my teenage self say to me now when I volunterly pick rocks?

    There is a huge difference now. Work can be done at a pace I choose and only as long as I choose. So, pick rocks I did today. The glacier left some suitable for the new loader...there was some logic in itss purchase. Using a pry bar to lift rocks out of the ground caused me to wonder why it's called a "crow bar?" Of course I Googled it and this is what I found.  Always learning....

The ornithological term for that all-purpose prying tool/hitman weapon dates back to at least around 1386, when an alliterative poem mentioned workmen “putting prises to” the corners of a container with “crows of iron.” It is believed that the sharp angled end of the tool resembled a bird’s beak, and of all the birds that flocked around those areas populated by humans, the crow was observed as the most adept at using its beak as a tool.

Even though William Shakespeare mentions the gadget in Act V of Romeo and Juliet (“Go hence; get me an iron crow and bring it straight unto my cell.”), today in the UK, folks usually leave the bird out of it and refer to it as a “prybar.”

Takk for alt,

Al

            Two views from the field in which I was picking rocks.

Weeds, rocks, cedar trees and pocket gophers.

      That combination of weeds, rocks, cedar trees and pocket gophers. listed as title, could be seen as problems, which, in one sense, they are. Perhaps that is not giving them their positive due. They propel me out of my lethargy into physical activity. In that regard they could be considered opportunity...opportunity for exercise, fresh air and freedom for Kaia to run.

    Now, this presupposes a number of realities. First, and foremost, it's not an eight hour or more job. I can work until I tire and leave off until another time. Inclement weather can be avioded while waiting for more favorable weather. There is freedom to chose the day and time to work. 

    There is plenty of time to enjoy the recliner, either in The Little House or the OFH. So, these random bursts of exercise are far preferable to sweating in some gym. It's all a part of a plan to stay upright as long as possible.

Takk for alt,

Al

                   My new, 60s model, mower.

A Good Time Was had by all, and Al!

       With the conclusion of the family reunion late morning we said our goodbyes. The group decided to reconvene in two years. Two women volunteered to plan and host. Joy Ranch, where we met, is the desired location because it works well as a meeting place.  Many of us will not meet in the intervening two years. Facebook, internet and telephone and a snail mail round robbin letter serve to keep us connected. We are grateful to our ancestors, Olai and Minnie Bergh, parents of twelve children, ten who lived to adulthood. Seven grandchildren survive.

     Now it's almost time to retrieve Kaia from doggy camp, for which I am eager.

Takk for alt,

Al

The family gathered for a picture before departure.

                   .

Joy Ranch, South Dakota

      Grandpa and Grandma Bergh have seven surviving grandchildren. That's pretty amazing because they were born in the 1850s!.  Their descendants are holding a reunion at Joy Ranch. Five of the grandchildren are in attendence with 50+ other descendants, spouses, etc. Stories are told, memories shared, humorous incidents recalled accompanied by peals of laughter. The facility works well for such a gathering. Yes, I am the youngest surviving grandchild....imagine how old the others are! 😉

     Alvin, Miriam and I drove the short distance into Watertown to visit Sam Hatlestad in his new, lovely, aparment. It's in a senior citizen building near downtown. He's only been there are about a month  but he has it fully decorated.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS  Sinai recieved .7" of rain yesterday...a big help, especially for soybeans.

Two sunset picttures from Joy Ranch last night.

"The Gift Of Rain"

       The Gift of Rain, is a book I enjoyed reading twice. Partly because it was set in Panang, Malaysia, a city I'd visited. The visit came when I was travelling from Bangkok to Singapore. At the time it was newly possible to reserve hotel rooms online. The hotel I chose in Panang offered a room for $10.00, or $20.00 if you wanted single occupancy. 😁 Being a big spender I took the $20.00 option.

     Today at The Little House it rained from 11:00-2:00, and now, 3:00, it's beginning again. Yes, the gift of rain which is much needed. The derecho that struck in May damaged the center pivot irrigation units near here. After a long wait for parts they are in use again. Much damage has been done to the crops by lack of moisture but irrigating will still have some benefit.

     My mother's family, the Berghs, are holding a reunion beginning today. Consequently Kaia is off to doggy camp, aka, a kennel in Brookings. The Little House is certainly quiet without her. 

Takk for alt,

Al

                  The late Lloyd Hope is number 13.

Success!

      It was 95 degrees in the shade at the farm sale August 2. Actually it didn't feel hot with a nice south breeze and the farm yard was open that direction. About half way through the sale a seven foot, semi-mounted, sickle mower came up for sale. Yes, it followed me home.

     Today it was time to try the mower. It took some serious lubricating because it hadn't been used for a long time. The good news?  It worked perfectly on the small weed patch I mowed.  Likely it's more than fifty years old but it seems in excellent condition. Working with antique equipment, as I do, it's always a pleasure when things work.

Takk for alt,

Al

              This is the tractor used with th mower.

Now they're gone.

        The little pond across the street from The Little House was the scene of a white convention this morning.  A pod of pelicans were joined by a congregation of egrets. Joining them was a large flock of seagulls. All these birds were gleaming white in the early morning sun. See pictures below. Now, as I write this at 4pm, they're all gone.

      Have you ever had friends really listen to you for an extended time? That's a very rare gift. ECV and MJV came from Iowa to visit. Visiting Joanne's grave was a high priority and we began there. Then, for the remainder of most of the day I showed them my life here. They were attentive, inquisitive, engaged and never shifted the focus to themselves. Showing others what's important in your life with their full attention means the world. Eight family members gathered for diner with them last night. Now they're gone leaving warm memories behind.

    Cousin M came to stay a few days with me. M arrived Sunday. M fillled the house with laughter and good cheer as M does everyplace M goes. M is my cousin, we grew up together, and we are very near the same age. Now M is gone and M too leaves warm memories behind.

    Oh, so much for which to be grateful!

Takk for alt.

Al

Totally lovely!

    Totally lovely day with  two Iowans.  Not time for much more today.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS A new sight: a flock of egreets on the shore and in the trees by the pond. :)

Four in a row!

     Two of the four are already in place, two more will be coming. Today Lloyd was interred next to his wife, Judy, who died in 2002. Wayne died a couple of years ago. Wayne, Lloyd and I were classmates for 12 years. Mark joined us for a year of high school. We  met at age three in Sunday School. We were all Sunday School classmates and were confirmed together.

   Perhaps I am the only one to reflect on the symbolism of four peers lining up near each other in the cemetery. I find it of some comfort, this community in death, that we had in life. Often in conversation with Lloyd we'd remember incidents from our elementary school experience with Wayne. Wayne, driving from the farm to his home in Brookings, would often stop at my shop on the main street of  Sinai to chat. 

    Each category of loss, parent, spouse, child, sibling, brings its peculiar form of grief. So, too, the death of peers has its own unique grief. Lloyd held memories of me that no one else had and so I of him. His death is another signifcant loss in the land of grief.

Takk for alt.,

Al

Nothing to see here...move along!

      There are moments writing this blog when I have nothing worth reporting that both of you readers might be interested in reading. This might be one of those moments. Though that will change as I'm expecting distinguished company from Iowa this week.

    Ed and I shared three years of Marine Corps experience...that's about a life time isn't it?  Then 18 years after my discharge from the Marines seperated us, I got posted to Davenport, IA. Davenport is 25 miles from Ed's farm near Calamus. That was one of those fortuitous events that profoundly changes life direction. Not only were our children, Ed's and mine, about the same age, our spouses bonded. Joanne and Mary Jane, Ed's wife, became extremely close. Reader's of this blog may remember me refrencing books from MJV...that's Mary Jane.

    Ed snd Mary Jane are coming for a quick visit. Mary Jane is keen to pay homage to Joanne at her grave. Ed, as a real farmer, has interest in my land and antique machinery. Besides Ed, MaryJane and I really like each other 😉. This is their chance to see The Little House, Sinai, Brookings Co, etc. and Lake Joanne...not to mention Lake Sinai. With such distinguished company it's important to convene the family, which will be done.

Takk for alt,

Al

                          Guess what?

Tractor loader...

      Today the Sinai Volunteer Fire Department held the annual consignment auction. Consigners get 90% of the selling price and professional auctioneers volunteert their time so the fire deptpartment gets 19%. An incredible amount of stuff is consigned.

     A loader to mount on a tractor was my goal. In my possession is a tractor that would work well with a loader. There were two loaders on the sale. Yes, I purchased one. The catch was that the loader was on a tractor so that was a part of the deal. It's a betterr loader than the 'un-mounted' one but now I'm the proud owner of a loader and another tractor. See picture below.

Takk for alt,

Al

                      The tractor and loader.

                       The crowd at the sale.

No one else knows!

     When Joanne died 4+ years ago the reality struck "Now, no one else knows......" Knows what? All of the knowledge we shared over 50+ years of relationship. It's lonely being the only one who remembers! That's a huge part of grief...the loss of shared history.

    That kind of loss was brought home powefully yesterday when my brother called to tell me that Lloyd Hope died. We grew up together...I can't remember a time I didn't know him. Likely we met in the 'three year old' Sunday School class. Classmates through 8 grades of country school and 4 years of high school we later lived together while I was in my second year at South Dakota State University. Along with his brother Rolf,  and David Halvorson, we lived in the basement of Rueben and Doris Skordahl's house in Brookings. Skordahls were also from Sinai.

   One of the occasional delights of growing up with Lloyd was staying overnight at each other's homes. Lloyd had two sisters and five brothers. His father, Arnt, an immigrant from Norway was comfortable speaking both English and Norwegian. Staying with Lloyd there were many cows to milk, by hand, morning and evening.  Arnt would talke to himself in Norwegian while milking. 

   After 1958 Lloyd and I went our separate ways, seeing each other occasionally. A few years ago my golf group needed a 4th so we recruited Lloyd. He played with us until our group disbanded in 2017. That's when he moved back to South Dakota.

  Sinai High School was tiny. There were 8 in my graduating class, the largest class in school. A week ago two of us, plus another who was in our class for a year, visited Lloyd. Now he's gone 😢. With Lloyd's death three of us remain. That makes me sad! 

  After an audiology apointment at the VA today I'll return to The Little House.

Takk for alt,

Al

Annual Day Trip

   Les, Carolyn and I are day tripping. The first stop will be the St. James Hotel in Red Wing for lunch. Next we will visit the Maritime Museum in Winona. Then we will cross the river to Wisconsin for our objective. That's dinner at the Harborview Cafe. It's a gourmet's delight with the day's menu written on a black (green?) board. This has been an annual trip for years and a fun excursion. The middle stop varies from year to year. 

  This explains the early posting.

Takk for alt,

Al

         The entrance to the church built in the rock, Helsinki, Finland.

Grampa sitting!

        Sella came to grampa sit this morning. She's big into playing games. After several hands of Go Fish, we went to the activity room and played ping pong. In the downtown condo, walking the Skyway to Target or swimming were the 'go to' activities. In the OFH its ping pong that entertains. After piing pong we played another game and then I introduced her to Rummikube. WOW! That was a trip down memory lane!

    Rummikube was game Joanne and I played. This was the first time I'd played since playing with Joanne. Opening the box for the game we found all the score sheets from Joanne and me. Joanne was not a card player but Rummidkube and Scrabble were a different matter.

   Sella is an excellent grandpa sitter.😄

Takk for alt,

Al

Two of my wedding attendants, at our 50th Anniversary Party. David Halvorson in the red shirt, and the other is my brother, David, the best man.

Hi Tech

    In prepartion for an appointment with my primary care physician, check-in was on-line. Then I recieved a series of text messages relative to the visit. Some were related to current health conditions. One text asked for a text response when I arrived at the clinic parking lot. When I texted my presence in the parking lot the next text message instructed me to proceed to exam room #5, in the second hallway. There I sat for 2 minutes until a nurse arrived. No in-person check-in required.

   The third, and final, hepatitus innocuation was adminstered. Now I'm fully immunized. My blood pressure reading, 118/55, explains my frequent head-rushes. Seems that reading would suggest that stroke is not a high risk.

    Yes, I'm grateful for medical care and insurance. Both are among my many blessings.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Voted in the primary today for the first time in my new precinct and first time in Highland Park Senior High School.

The KaDeWe is Berlin's largest and most famous department store. Its 60,000 square meters of retail space and gourmet floor attract visitors from all over the world. The Kaufhaus des Westens, KaDeWe for short, is more than just a well-stocked department store.

Family and Friends!

    Long time readers of this missive will recognize that one of its themes is family and friends. Time spent in the OFH is always an opportunity to connect with family and friends. Multiple daily appointments fills my cup. Family and friends were critical in my healing during my journey of grief. Joanne was usually correct but she was wrong about one thing. She feared I'd become an isolated recluse after her death. She was led astray on that issue by comparing me with her.  She, as the ultimate extrovert, and I, with my introversion seemed to her destined to be a recluse. 

   The OFH is a great place for me. Friends and aquaintences are available in the building. Yet, when I want to be alone, I just repair to my apartment. Likewise it would have been great for Joanne. She'd have 300 new friends by now and she'd attend almost everything. Me? "Why would I go to that?" 😁

Takk for alt,

Al

                   School lunch in Thailand.

A little poetry.

    For the great blue heron that stalks the pond across from The Little House:

Heron Rises From The Dark, Summer Pond

by Mary Oliver

So heavy
is the long-necked, long-bodied heron,
always it is a surprise
when her smoke-colored wings

open
and she turns
from the thick water,
from the black sticks

of the summer pond,
and slowly
rises into the air
and is gone.

Then, not for the first or the last time,
I take the deep breath
of happiness, and I think
how unlikely it is

that death is a hole in the ground,
how improbable
that ascension is not possible,
though everything seems so inert, so nailed

back into itself--
the muskrat and his lumpy lodge,
the turtle,
the fallen gate.

And especially it is wonderful
that the summers are long
and the ponds so dark and so many,
and therefore it isn't a miracle

but the common thing,
this decision,
this trailing of the long legs in the water,
this opening up of the heavy body

into a new life: see how the sudden
gray-blue sheets of her wings
strive toward the wind; see how the clasp of nothing
takes her in.

Takk for alt,

Al

        The Hermitage, St. Petersburg, Russia.

Friends here, there and everywhere!

    This is another paean to gratitude. Not only am I blessed with two domiciles, there are friends at both places and many others as well. How did this monosylabbic introvert end up with so many friends? Give Joanne credit.  While that remains a mystery, it is a great gift and I'm very thankful. How fortunate to have A Little House on the Prairie and an partment in the OFH! Not only that, I'm capable to driving between them...four hours plus whatever stops. Vicksburg Park, north of Delhi, is a perfect pit stop for us both and exactly half way. 

    Now, all caught on mail for this time. Lucky to have friends who take in my mail when I'm gone. If the box filled up the letter carrier might return things to sender. That would be troublesome.

Takk for alt

Al

                        The bedroom in the OFH.

Getting up early!

      Getting up early has its advantages. Kaia had her run in the park, took L to the airport, had a lab test, got a haircut and was back at the OFH by 10am. Most of my mail comes here so it takes a few hours to open, sort and deal. A trip to the local Social Security office only required a 30 minute wait. Nic, who takes in my mail when I'm gone says I get a lot of mail. That's true, I guess, some comes to Sinai but most to the OFH. The apartment in the OFH is my 'urban cabin.' 

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Good news from the lab test:  PSA  0.02 😀

                                   Ya, then......

Old Folks Home

     With an early start we arrived at the Old Folks Home this morning. Early enough arrival to have a friemd for lunch, it's an easy way to intertain. There's a full menu of seeing people this week. A grocery bag full of mail will keep me occupied between social engagements. Nick takes in my mail when I'm away from the OFH. The cleaner had recently visited the aparment so it's spic and span.

    Having a place like this to which to return makes me very grateful. There seems to be more traffic in the Twin Cities compared to Sinai. Go figure.....

Takk for alt,

Al

                  Wish I still had my Autin Healy.

Fascinated by grass!

 Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)

#333 "The Grass So Little Has To Do"

The Grass so little has to do –
A Sphere of simple Green –
With only Butterflies to brood
And Bees to entertain –

And stir all day to pretty Tunes
The Breezes fetch along –
And hold the Sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything –

And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls –
And make itself so fine
A Duchess were too common
For such a noticing –

And even when it dies – to pass
In Odors so divine –
Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep –
Or Spikenards, perishing –

And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell –
And dream the Days away,
The Grass so little has to do
I wish I were a Hay –

    Much lightening early evening yesterday brought .2" of rain. Every little bit helps while wishing for more...

Takk for alt,

Al

                 Speaking of grass.......

Divorce Colony

       In the late 19th and early 20th centuries South Dakota has one of the most liberal divorce laws in the country. Sioux Falls also had a luxury hotel, The Cataract House Hotel. Initially the residency requirement was three months for divorce seekers, later adjusted to six months. When residency was increased to a year in 1908, South Dakota no longer attracted divorce seekers.

    The Divorce Colony: Hoow Women Revolutionized Marriage and Found Freedom on the American Frontier, April White tells the story via biographical vingnettes of wealthy women from the east who came to Sioux Falls to en their marriages. Well researched and also well written it's a fascinating account of time and place that changes the trajectory of marriage. Yes, I recommend it.

     Much of my day was spent at a farm sale. That has much of the color and interest of a carnival. Major items of machinery brought top prices. That likley is aa result of high commodity prices that put cash in farmer's pockets. The semi-mounted, tractor, sickle mower that followed me home was reasonably priced. It is too old and small to interest real farmers. 

Takk for alt,

Al

                                    At the sale.

Spotless!

      There's been much writing about how the leoperd got its spots. Perhaps some clever writer could do a children's book about how the fawn lost its spots. Perhaps something like this; "One day the fawn awakened thinking 'I'm tired of being spotted.' So the fawn went to a tree and rubbed and rubbed but all it got was sore. Next the fawn rolled in the grass, it rolled and rolled until it had flattened a huge patch of grass. Then it went to a pond to see her reflectioin but it was still covered with spots. The fawn asked her mother 'How can I get ride of my spots? The mother replied 'Whatever will be, will be, my deer.' So the little fawn decided to forget her spots. Some days later the fawn was beside a pond of water and saw in her reflection that her spots were gone! Whee had they gone?"

     All this was prompted by seeing a doe and a fawn who'd lost her/his spots. Where did they go? Did they just fall off one day?  You write the story and perhaps some publisher will buy it and print a book.

     Four high school classmates gathered this afternoon to reminisce, one of the pleasures of a long life!

Takk for alt,

Al

     Joanne by the stone church, Helsinki, Finland.