Bed Report

     After one night on the new bed, I'd say it's a modest improvement over the old one. It wasn't the bed per se that prompted the change. It was the tendency of the old frame that had a proclivity to dump me on the floor in the middle of night that motivated the change. The new frame is exceptionally strong so no more worries. The bed is noticeably lower because it's only a mattress with no box spring.

    In July and August there were many days we waited for rain in vain. With the advent of fall we've embarked on a rainy spell while we wait in vain for a dry spell. The individual showers have not been large but before there's any drying another rain comes. It's been great for pastures which have responded quickly to the moisture. Trees are also beneficiaries of these rains. It serves them well as they move towards winter and freeze-up.  

Takk for alt,

Al

Students at the University of Columba, Portugal, selling pencils to tourists. The University was founded in 1290.

New Bed!

      It was 2007 when we bought The Little House, the year I retired. At a local farm auction, I was the successful bidder, and the only one, on a bedroom set. Bed; spring set, mattress, frame and dresser and chest of drawers. Blond oak is a clue that they were from the fifties. All were like new. The previous owners had no children, and the set was in a rarely used guest room. They weren't the type of people to host overnight guests. No stickler for fashion, blond oak is just fine for me. For all of this I paid $12.00.

    The only downside was the bed frame. It was metal with four cross slats supporting the box spring. The slats had the annoying habit of slipping down during the night. Nineteen years of that was enough, so, I ordered a new bed; frame and mattress. Which was delivered today. When I removed the mattress cover, in preparation for delivery of the new bed, I was reminded of how pristine are then mattress and box spring. While I was feeling bad about disposing of them, fate intervened.  As they were leaning on the truck that would cart them away, a neighbor came to the door. He asked if he could have them for his son who needed a bed. So, they meet a need and I avoided a disposal fee. Tonight I'll try it out!

Takk for alt,

Al

A cheese shop in Amsterdam. This picture was taken in 1908 and posted randomly to supplement a possibly boring blog.

Falling into Fall!

      Well, here's the Vernel Equinox for which we've all been waiting. This summer was hot enough to make even me relish autumn.  As mentioned in a previous blog it happened while I was recently in Minnesota.

    I came on this good description of fall. "Day after day, of open clear skies, that has been how summer has been from May up until now, sun during the day, stars at night. Nothing is finer than an ebb of a good summer, it has left behind a sort of satiation, something has been filled, and now it turns, now the village is no longer surrounded by gently waving fields quite indescribably golden beneath the high blue sky-seen from the roads the ripe fields resemble lakes between the clustered houses-but stubble fields, for in the past few weeks combine harvesters and tractors have been gliding slowly back and forth across them, and tall rows of compressed hay bales have been left behind here and there, like high walls against the wind..."  Authorship to be revealed later.

Takk for alt,

Al

Soybeans ripening turn from green to yellow before shedding their leaves as they dry down for harvest. 

Another reason to like dogs!

    For the sake of my eyes, an ophthalmologist told me that kale and spinach can arrest macular degeneration. Consequently, I eat spinach almost every day and it's working. I'm not allowed to kale however.  

   

Take for alt,

Al

Slowly Read

      Finally finished a book started weeks ago. Mentioned in yesterday's blog that I read in 1998, it's The Gentleman In The Parlor: A Record of a Journey from Rangoon to Haiphong, by W. Somerset Maugham.  He calls Rangoon's country Burma so that's a clue it's an older book because that country is now known as Myanmar. It was published in 1930, shortly after Maugham made the journey.

    Myanmar is a Southeast Asian country I barely entered.   There's a place where it borders Thailand that I crossed the border to a market. While I was technically in Myanmar, I couldn't leave the market to travel in the country without going through customs.

   However, in the other three countries mentioned; Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, I traveled extensively. Reading his description of these places from almost 100 years ago was very interesting. For example, in Saigon, now called Ho Chi Min City, he stayed in the Continental Hotel. When Joanne, Lisa and I were there, we too, stayed in the Continental.

   He travelled by a variety of means; walking, horseback, bullock cart, train, car and boat. My travels were by car, boat, train and airplane. Joanne, Lisa and I went from Phnom Penh, Cambodia to Saigon by car. A Church World Service driver drove us to the boarder of Vietnam. Carrying our luggage, we walked across the border and through customs. From there we took a taxi to the edge of Saigon. Why the edge? The driver was intimidated by Saigon traffic, so we had to find another taxi to take us downtown.

   Throughout the book cities were mentioned that I had visited; Bangkok, which I called my home away from home, Phnom Penh, Hue, Hanoi, etc. It was fun trip down memory lane. My interest in rereading it was sparked by another book recently read, The House of Doors, Tan Twan Eng. Set in Penang, Malaysia, where I also visited, H. Somerset Maugham is featured because he spent time there.

Takk for alt,

Al

Modern Bangkok.

Triggered Memory

       The book I'm currently re-reading, the first time in1998, is a report of the author's overland trip in 1930, through SE Asia. It's of particular interest to me because I spent much time there and traveled to many of the same places.

     This is the incident and the memory it triggered. Traveling in Vietnam the author comes to Hue. Yes, I was there. He embarks on a small boat on the Perfume River. It's lovely tropical night and the stars are in full array. Traveling alone and billeted in un-attractive hotel he decides to spend the night absorbing the romantic setting in the boat. A car is scheduled to drive him to Hanoi in the morning. He lights his pipe and settles in a for a delightful night. The next thing he knows the boat is bumping to a landing at dawn. He's terribly disappointed that he slept away the night.

    Now the Memory. Many years ago, Joanne and I, accompanied by my two brothers and their wives, travelled to Norway. Airline flights were arranged from Minneapolis to Amsterdam. There was a layover in Amsterdam so we could visit some museums. Leaving Minneapolis in the evening we arrived in Amsterdam early in the morning. We checked into our hotel and then, heading the advice not to give into jetlag but stay active, we headed out. One stop was a diamond shop where raw diamonds were being ground. Amsterdam is a city of canals. So, we took a boat ride on the canals to see the city. Jetlag hit me big time and I quickly fell asleep. When I awakened the other five were asleep, and so it went. None of us saw ten percent of the sites. 

Takk for alt,

Al

The Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam.

Welcome to Seattle!

      The farmer who said he hoped it didn't rain to much got his wish. (See a previous blog.)  Yesterday's rainfall measured .8". It's raining now as I type this. Rain, in small amounts, is predicted each day for the next seven days. There's a member of the family who wishes to live in Seattle. Not I. As much as I welcome rain my preference would be for a good soaking rain on a day, followed by blue sky days. Weather's reality has been the bane of humanity forever. Watertight houses are a gift and far better than damp caves in which to bear through repeated rainfalls. I'm fortunate that repetitive rain is no more than a nescience. 

Takk for alt,

Al

To offset the grey skies of these days I post this sunset picture from 2021.

      

Standing Corrected

       Typing the blog about local vocabularies in a recently initially I typed "Maid Rite". Thinking that can't be right (Rite) I changed all the Maids to Mades. Now the other reader informs me that the correct version is "Maid-Rite." Given the 'Rite' one might think it's some sort of gambol with young females.as in a 'rite of spring'.  At least it should be "Made Right". However, that would require more letters, more costs and not have the same panache.

    A bit of research reveals that there are approximately 25 Maid-Rite establishments in Iowa and 43 total Maid-Rite venues. It hasn't achieved the success of Culver's, my favorite fast-food venue.  As of July 2026, there were 1104 Culver's Restaurants. On your next foray into Iowa try a Maid-Rite. No money changed hands, unfortunately, for this promotion. 

Takk for alt,

Al

Maid-Rite, Muscatine, Iowa.

Things change!

        After a dry July and very dry August the weather has changed. For weeks the mantra has been, "I wish it would rain!" There were some showers that gave some help but not the soaking rain that was needed. Now there's been some rain that's equaled about an inch and a half. Lawns and pastures are green again. How things change was revealed in a farmer commenting on the predicted rain who said, "I hope it doesn't rain too much."  It's been raining today. 💧

    Why would a farmer, in a drought, hope it "doesn't rain too much"?  Well, it's harvest time. Think about trying to harvest in muddy fields. You get the picture. The rain is too late for benefit to corn and soybeans, and muddy fields are a trial. On the other hand, pastures and hay fields will reap great benefits from the added moisture. Greening pastures have made cattle happy and will serve to put them in good condition going into winter. The eight camels in the neighbor's pasture will also benefit.

Takk for alt,

Al

Two of the eight camels who hang out with the cattle and horses.

"Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry..."

      Okay, it's a huge stretch from this quote from American Pie about a dry levee and what I'm about to say, but humor me. 

     I drove my Chevy to the pasture to read the rain gauge and what did I find? The gauge wasn't really dry. Expecting to see a cumulative reading from the two and a half weeks I was gone, instead I found the gauge gone. It was on a fence post reachable by a cow. Is a cow the culprit? Possibly, though I doubt it. but, whatever, it's gone. Scottie, who rents the pasture, lives 20? miles away so I like to inform him of the moisture situation. At least there was enough rain in my absence to revive the pasture and now it's green.

    The mention of 'levee' brings to mind local vocabulary. Moving to Davenport, IA., in 1980 introduced some word usage new to me. Davenportians don't go to the riverbank they go to the 'levee'.  We were planning a meal for a youth group meeting when someone suggested serving "Made Rites." Turns out they were speaking of barbeque hamburgers or sloppy joes. In Iowa there's a chain of fast-food restaurants named "Made Rite." Living in Mohall, N.D., I learned to call gullies 'coulees'.  So, I'm a bit wiser, but not that much.

Takk for alt,

Al

The water buffalo is the one on the bottom.

 

USA World Cup Champions!

 

The Little House!

       There was two and half weeks in the OFH. Driving back to Sinai it felt like we left in summer and returned in fall. Here's the observations of harvest on the drive from MN. Some commercial sweet corn is still being picked. Beet harvest has begun with a few fields lifted. There's been some green corn combined. Silage was cut a month ago. Edible beans are being combined. No soybeans harvested yet. There's been some rain, so grass is greener than when we left.

      It's a gift to have two very different abodes. Each have their advantages and both are home.

Takk for alt,

Al

The street by which "my" house stood in Thailand.  As is typical there's dog lying in the middle of it.

Mary Oliver Dog Poems

      Who knew that gifted Poet Mary Oliver wrote a book of dog poems, Dog Songs. Reading it reminded me of the gift of Odie. It also reminded me of the loss of Kaia, who should still be romping in the grass. Odie has made friends at the OFH. The other resident Springer hated Kaia and barked maniacally at sight of her. She walked over to Odie, sniffed noses while wagging her tail. Why the difference?  I have no idea.

A Bad Day

Ricky, why are you barking and trying
to rip up the couch? Can’t you settle
down? It’s been a long day.

“It sure has. First you forgot to take
me out. Then you went to the market
and heaven knows where else. And my
dinner was late. And our walk was
short. And now you’re supposed to
be on the floor playing with me but,
no, you’re doing something else. So I
thought I’d give this couch a little
distress.”

Well, don’t. Be a good boy.

“Honestly, what do you expect? Like
you I’m not perfect, I’m only human.”

-Mary Oliver, in “Dog Songs”

Takk for alt,

Al

Odie, in repose after his morning run in the park.

How often do you see Lutefisk in a comic?

 

Football is immoral!

    " CTE, or chronic traumatic encephalopathy, is a progressive brain disease caused by repeated hits to the head over months and years. It has been found in the brains of football players at every level, from high school to the NFL, and it can only be definitively diagnosed after death. The disease destroys brain tissue gradually, leading to problems with mood, memory, behavior, and eventually basic cognitive function." A recent news article reported that 25% of professional football players have CTE.

    The inordinate financial rewards of the minuscule minority of football players that make it as a professional tempt thousands of youth and college age males to play football, hereby risking permanent brain injury. That this is considered a legitimate sport is immoral.

   So, in answer to a posted question, "No, I do not watch football."

Takk for alt,

Al

 Sunset over the Chao Praya River in Bangkok, Thailand.

USA Wins!

     What do I know? Not much. apparently. Predicting that France would be a serious challenge to the USA World Cup basketball team was only true for the first minutes of the game. Early in the 2nd quarter France was ahead by 14 points. By halftime that lead was down to 2 points. The 3rd and 4th quarters belonged to USA. USA up 30 to 12 in the third. The final score? 97-79 and USA wins the fifth World Cup in a row. Yay team!

   So, now the WNBA schedule has each team with four games left before playoffs.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS We're still in the OFH.

Teaching 3rd grade in Thailand in 2020.

Still wrong...

     I shouldn't ever post numbers. The actual number of years since Ed and I entered boot camp is 67. Ed was there. He gave me the correct number.

    "The USA Basketball Women's National Team, commonly known as Team USA, is governed by USA Basketball and competes in FIBA Americas. The team is by far the most successful in international women's basketball, having won 10 out of the 12 Olympic tournaments it has entered. It has also won 9 of the last 12 World Cups (including the last 4), and 11 titles overall. The team is currently ranked first in the FIBA World Rankings." Wikipedia 

    Today the USA women beat Spain in the quarter finals. They've gone through the tournament without a loss. They play France in the final tomorrow (Sunday) at 2:00 Central Time. These are the two best teams, and USA will have to play their best to win.

Take for alt,

Al

Oops, My Bad

    Michelene correctly identified my mathematical mistake. Yes, she's correct it's 69 years ago I left for boot camp. Reliability with numbers has never been my strong suit. That part, and probably others, of my brain is deficient.  Wow! that's a long time ago meaning I'm really, really old. Can you imagine boot camp in the fifties?

   An email from a new reader in North Dakota who is having trouble posting a comment may suggest that there are now three readers of this blog. The success is almost more that I can stand. This comes as my mind lacks an original thought. Perhaps I'll just post a random picture and hope I have a thought tomorrow.

Takk for alt,

Al

Question answer: Joanne's family were from Opdal and Songne Fjord.

Mortarmen covering their ears in anticipation the mortar blast. To the best of my memory, we had no hearing protection in the Marines. The VA ruled that 10% of my hearing loss was from the Marines. 

Fifty-Seven Years ago!

      This must mean I'm old! One of the clues to my age is when I remember things that happened decades ago. Such a long memory is only possible for old persons. A memory I have in mind is beginning Marine Corps boot camp fifty-seven years ago. My active enlistment began September 18, 1959, a date I never forget. 

    Prior to boot camp I was a rustic provincial. St. Paul, MN., was as far as I had been from my Brookings County, SD., home. Transported by plane to San Diego, CA., for training, the milieu was dramatically different from farm life at home. Surrounded by a coterie of young men whose life experiences were much different than mine, I now lived under strict rules enforced by drill instructors. The physical regimen was intended to shape us physically. Psychologically the intent was to make us fit as functioning parts of larger unit. Some didn't make it. More recruits washed out because of the psychological stress than from being physically unfit. 

   In retrospect enlistment was a good choice. Too immature psychologically, and poorly prepared academically, for college time in the Marines allowed me to mature. Fortunate to serve in peacetime there was never threat to my life. By the end of my enlistment, I'd chosen a path and was prepared to accomplish what was needed to achieve it.  

Takk for alt,

Al

Assigned to duty on aircraft carrier, the USS Princeton, we were frequently ferried to land by helicopter. The strap across the opening substituted for a door.

Sometimes I sympathize with Rat.

 

  

        When I was new in the OFH I accepted an invitation to the weekly men's coffee hour. There were about twelve of us sitting in a circle. The bulk of the hour was listening to one expound on why we should volunteer at the St. Paul Saints Baseball games. No, I didn't go back. Twice a week there's a Happy Hour in the club lounge at the OFH. When I arrived, there were about twenty persons sitting in a circle. Sitting down at a small table I hoped someone would join me for conversation. Those gathered at the table wouldn't rest until I joined them. For an hour one person talked about his military experience. No, I didn't go back. Veteran's Social Hour at the OFH was about six persons around a round table having an interesting conversation. The group has grown to twelve or fifteen persons, two of whom do 95% of the speaking. No longer do I attend.

A female acquaintance started a Women's Social here in the OFH. When she asked me for suggestions for it, I suggested arranging chairs in smaller conversation groups, which she thought was a good idea. Later when I asked her how that worked, she said, "The women didn't like it because they couldn't hear what everyone said"

    Yes, I'm different, that's clear. One of the sweet privileges of adulthood is the right to vote with one's body. My body votes to be absent from circle time.

Takk for alt,

Al 

Garage Cleaning!

    Smugness goes before a fall. I'd planned to return to The Little House today but delayed my departure.  Tomorrow is garage cleaning day at the OFH. All smug I thought I'd be gone to avoid it. Then with delayed departure I joined the inmates in finding outdoor parking. If a person has a spot in the parking lot and leaves upon return who knows where he/she will be able to park.

   This is what passes for trouble in the OFH. If it doesn't get any worse than this.....

Takk for alt,

Al

If Odie can't find a toy he carries his blanket, anything to play!

Exploring!

    The move to the OFH a few years ago not only put me in St. Paul for the first time it also placed me in the Highland Park neighborhood. It's a very interesting neighborhood. We've been exploring local restaurants such as Bennet's and Cosetta's.  Tonight we went to the old Italian classic DeGidio's. It was a treat. The ambiance is inviting, it's quiet, the food is superb, the prices modest and it's nearby. A good time was had by all and that includes Al! 

Takk for alt,

Al

No Comment!

 

Women's Basketball, World Cup, USA 55 Italy 52

      It was painful to watch. USA's shooting was badly off. Numerous missed layups. The score would not have been very close had USA made the eight free throws they missed. No USA player was shooting well. Italy's best player plays in the WNBA. She played for the Lynx until she was taken in last year's expansion draft. Now she plays for the Golden State Valkyries.

   USA beat China previously. The China team featured Han Zu, who is 6'11" and plays for the New York Liberty in the WNBA. Then there is Ziyu Zhang, 7'3", and 19 years old. You thought Chinese were short! Minnesota Lynx player, Napheesa Collier said she knew she couldn't drive to the basket against Ziyu Zhang.

Takk for alt,

Al

Ziyu Zhang

New Faces!

      For one reason or other inmates vacate their apartments in the OFH.  In my hall alone I can think of six, or more persons who've vacated an apartment. There's a waiting list for the building so as quickly as possible maintenance readies the apartment for the next occupant(s).  As regular absentee upon my return newer arrivals asks if I'm new here? "No" I say. "I was the last of the first residents, claiming the last apartment after the building opened." It's a good place and I'm happy to be here.

     When I return for a few days acquaintances remark on my presence. My rejoinder is, "This is my vacation home, so I'm here for a few days. If many others were not so fixated on their house they too could life this life of leisure.

Takk for alt,

Al

Remembering fondly the students I taught in Thailand (I'm the one wearing glasses.)

Rat does his inner work.

 

     This is one of those days lacking an original thought. So, this comic will be it for today, while I continue to live the good life in the OFH.

Takk for alt,

Al

Medical Appointments

     In the last years of her life Joanne often remarked, "It seems all I do is go to medical appointments." That's also a common refrain of inmates in the OFH. That's not my situation. Because my clinics and doctors are in this vicinity, I do reschedule routine appointment for the times I'm resident in the OFH. So, there was one today and another tomorrow. Barring anything unforeseen the next ones will be in January when I've come north for the winter.

   Blessed with good health, and yes, I'm grateful.

Takk for alt,

Al

 A couple of days ago I posted about Tom helping remove Russian Olives. This is a picture of him at work.

Could have been worse!

     My driver's license expires next month, and because it's a Minnesota license, I went for a renewal today. There was a bit of a wait until I was summed by a very friendly, kind clerk. It's been years since I needed my CDL (Commercial Driver's License) so chose not to renew it. Honestly, I've only kept it for bragging rights. It costs more than an ordinary license, so it was expensive bragging.

   There were a few surprises. One surprise is that I have a year to change my mind about relinquishing the CDL. I was also surprised to be asked about my veterans' status. The VA issued me an ID card and that was sufficient, but why the question? Then, too, there was no vision lest and that surprised me.

   Here's a couple of CDL stories. Several years ago, driving in a Mpls. suburb I was stopped for speeding. The police officer said, "You have a class A license; I don't want to give you a ticket." He gave me a warning. Last year in the Sinai Grain Elevator there was sign. "Wanted, part-time help with a CDL." It occurred to me that I could do that. The deal breaker was that they'd expect me to show up." 😉

Takk for alt.

Al

Old Adage

    The old adage, "What goes around comes around" never resonated with me. Perhaps that changed today. When I left the condo downtown to move to the OFH Joanne's cedar chest when to L's house. Now L is preparing to sell the house so, today, the cedar chest came to the storage unit in the OFH.

   Leaving the downtown condo, I'd downsized enough so there wasn't much in my storage unit. The cedar chest and a huge box with large, framed pictures of ancestors, fit easily. Among the heirlooms in the chest is Joanne's Norwegian bunad. Her mother's friend, Inger Marie, sewed it in the Gubransdal pattern.

Takk for alt,

Al

OFH

       Odie and I motored to the OFH this afternoon. This morning Tom helped me cut Russian Olives that are invading the grass. Being deciduous it's necessary to treat the stumps to prevent their growing back. Back in the early forties when there was a massive tree planting effort to restore the land after the dust bowl Russian Olives were one variety planted.

    The decision to plant them was made a by a person who knew neither cattle nor trees. Planted on the edge of a multi-row of trees they were intended to fence cattle out of the planting. It takes much more than a row of trees to deter cattle. Planting them also assume that none would die thus making an uninterrupted barrier. There always some die off and even if there wasn't they wouldn't repel a determined cow. 

   Like Cedars they have berries eaten by birds. Again, like cedars, birds defecate the seeds far and wide, so the trees invade grasslands. 

Takk for alt,

Al

The Russian olive tree is a fast-growing, thorny, and silvery-leaved tree native to Asia and Eastern Europe, valued for its ornamental flowers and fruit but considered invasive in many regions.

Rooster Crowing!

       Now that I think about it, I haven't heard the rooster crowing across the street from the Little House for a few days. Hearing it brought back memories of Thailand. For ten or twelve years I lived with the same Thai family while I taught English in a local elementary school. For the first several years I slept on a floor mat. About the time I was thinking that I was getting too old to sleep on the floor they bought me a bed. It wasn't much softer than the floor mat but at least I was off the floor. It was in a tiny room upstairs that had just enough room for the bed and a fan. No air conditioning in that tropical climate but there were windows I could open.

   Possessing a good internal clock I've not used an alarm for many years. The house was toward the end of a quiet street so there was no vehicle noise. On occasion the Buddhist temple, a few blocks away, would broadcast a chanting monk. They had a metal gong, that when struck, sounded like a gunshot. Nighttime quiet was sometimes broken by dogs barking or dog fights. In the mornings I knew it was time to arise when roosters crowed and the Muslim call to prayer was broadcast from the local mosque at 6:00 am.

  The local rooster primed these memories.

Takk for alt,

Al

"My" house in Thailand.

This and that...

      Some welcome rain fell last night. The town fain gauge showed .85". Three miles away the rain gauge at the pasture recorded .6" Reports suggest that Brookings, 15 miles away received over 2", I'm jealous. It's very dry and crop yields will likely suffer.

    Beanfields are turning yellow before they drop their leaves. Some corn fields are showing brown while others are totally green. Pasture grass is short and some cattlemen are offering hay to cattle on pasture. Diesel fuel is over $5 a gallon so farmers fuel cost for harvest will be very high.

   Odie doesn't like thunder. He hears it long before I, which is no surprise given my hearing impairment. The sound of thunder interrupts his desire to play. When I go to the bathroom in the night, he grabs a toy hoping to play. He doesn't understand that he's eight. He almost caught a neighbor's Guinea Hen in our yard.

Takk for alt,

Al

 

"Inner Work"

       Working to prepare candidates for pastoral ministry I emphasized the importance of doing one's "inner work."  Without that preparation pastors are likely to be triggered to emotional reactions rather than wise responses. So, what is "inner work?"

" Core Concepts of Inner Work

Self-Exploration: Uncovering the root causes of intense emotional triggers rather than just reacting to external circumstances.
Shadow and Inner Child Work: Engaging with disowned or unconscious parts of the psyche to heal past hurts and recover lost vulnerabilities or strengths.
Mind-Body Integration: Moving from automatic, habitual reactions to thoughtful, conscious responses." Internet
Why is this important?  Perhaps a pastor has an emotional response to a member of the church council. If he/she has done inner work, he/she is perhaps able to trace the response to a difficult sibling. Then rational response rather than emotional reaction is possible.
So why do I bring this up now? It's triggered by a short video clip on the internet. Olivia Miles is a rookie (first year player) on the WNBA Lynx. She's having a phenomenal season. She'll almost certainly to selected "Rookie of the Year". There's also conversation that she may be chosen WNBA Most Valuable Player.
When she was asked in the video why she's so confident she replied. In college I had a significant knee injury. During rehabilitation I did my inner work. I let go of caring what others think, etc.
Never before have I heard of an athlete crediting inner work. To see the actual interview go to my Facebook page where I've reposted the video.
Takk for alt,
Al
PS The Monday edition of The Wall Street Journal had a third of a page article about Miles.

Time for some poetry!

 David Whyte (b.1955)

Fire in the Earth

And we know, when Moses was told,
in the way he was told,
“Take off your shoes!” He grew pale from that simple

reminder of fire in the dusty earth.
He never recovered
his complicated way of loving again

and was free to love in the same way
he felt the fire licking at his heels loved him.
As if the lion earth could roar

and take him in one movement.
Every step he took
from there was carefully placed.

Everything he said mattered as if he knew
the constant witness of the ground
and remembered his own face in the dust

the moment before revelation.
Since then thousands have felt
the same immobile tongue with which he tried to speak.

Like the moment you too saw, for the first time,
your own house turned to ashes.
Everything consumed so the road could open again.

Your entire presence in your eyes
and the world turning slowly
into a single branch of flame.

David Whyte (b.1955) is an Anglo-Irish poet who moved to the United States in 1981 and works for a deeper incorporation of poetry into American life. This poem is from River Flow: New & Selected Poems Revised Edition (Many Rivers Press, 2012). 

All's well with Al and Odie!

Takk for alt,

Al

Late summer 1959.

       At my age memory stretches back a long time. In late summer 1959, enlistment in the Marines was looming. Enlisting in the spring for a September 19, report date, gave me enough time to wonder what I was in for. My life to that point was as provincial as provincial could be. Minneapolis/St. Paul was as far from my South Dakota home as I had been.

    On the day I left for Boot Camp, Dad took me to Arlington to catch a bus to Omaha. Meeting several other recruits, we were taken to taken to the airport. Boarding DC-6, for the flight to San Diego we had our last freedom until after graduating from Boot Camp. Enjoying my first airplane ride was tempered by wondering what awaited at the end of the flight.

   In the San Diego airport, we were met by a Marine Seargent who quickly demonstrated that the honeymoon was over. At Marine Corp Recruit Depot, we were formed into platoons and housed in Quonset Hut barracks that would be our home for the next twelve weeks.

  At the recent family reunion, I was asked why I chose the Marines. The military draft was active in 1959. Wanting to take a break from college the draft would have come for me. Army, Air Force and Navy were also options. The Marines had a provision that recruits with two years of college could enlist for three years instead of the standard four years. Navy and Air Force were both for four years. The Army was two years but didn't appeal. The challenge of the Marines appealed foe I enlisted for three, and the rest is history.

Takk for alt,

Al

The Marines were not all 'spit and polish' but there was also some of that.  Okinawa 1962

Four Followers?

       Perhaps the number of blog followers has doubled.  At the recent reunion at least two persons said they were going to follow my blog, thus doubling from you two faithful followers to four. WOW! So, this post will attempt to bring them up to speed on the need to cut cedars.

    Much of my hobby farm is planted to native grasses. Near these fields are rows of cedar trees planted for the benefit of wildlife. They have several advantages for this. Deer do not like to graze on them as they do on other coniferous trees. Their bushy growth provides winter windbreaks to shelter pheasants and deer. Pheasants often roost is them at night safe from predators such as fox and coyotes. Their berries provide nesting habitat and food for songbirds.  

    It's that later reality, food for songbirds, that prove to old adage that "no good deed goes on unpunished."  Birds consuming the berries defecate the seeds over the grassland and many cedars take root. If they are not removed the result is compromise of the grassland. Cedars growing randomly in the grass destroys the integrity of the grass for ground nesting birds such as pheasants. Prior to white settlement cedars were controlled by bison, who will not tolerate them, and prairie fires. With the bison removed and fires suppressed cedars are now a major problem on western grasslands. 

   Today, Odie and I, walked a section of grass near rows of cedars. This grass was cut for hay in July. When cedar seedlings were found I cut them off below the bottom branch. Coniferous trees cut that way do not grow back. Deciduous trees, on the other hand, will simply resprout.  

Takk for alt,

Al

Some of my grass.

Success!

       The Bergh Family Reunion came to a successful conclusion this morning.  Joy Ranch, the retreat center with a western theme, about 20 miles NW of Watertown SD, is an ideal setting. The family members attending chose between two alternatives. Some, such as I, arrived Friday afternoon and stayed until Sunday morning. Others, living in some closer proximity, spent Saturday at the Ranch.

    Odie spent the time at doggy camp, aka., Canine Country Club Kennel in Brookings. Apparently, it was a good experience for him. While he greeted me warmly when I recovered him, he wasn't wildly enthusiastic. The kennel staff reported that he did well with the other dogs. 

Takk for alt,

Al

One of the Ranch staff took this picture of those of us who remained until Sunday. She did a good job of ascertaining every person can be seen. 

Joy Ranch

       The bi-annual Bergh, my mother's maiden name. reunion is on at Joy Ranch 25 miles northwest of Watertown, SD. There must be almost 100 persons here. A contingent came from Seattle, a couple form FL., a couple from MI, many from Minnesota and south Dakota

    There are five surviving grandchildren of my Bergh grandparents, four of whom are here. I'm the youngest of the five. Four generations are represented. There's no drama and all happily relate to each other. Perhaps the harmony in enhanced by it being alcohol free. Joy Ranch is a great retreat center and has been the site of the last several reunions. Joanne and I sponsored the first one, perhaps thirty years ago and they've been held every two years since.

Takk for alt,

Al

This plaque is in my bedroom ar Joy Ranch.

Book Report

      

   Thanks to Peter and Sandy giving it to me, I read a book I would never have found. It was delightful, thanks! NORDIC TALES; FOLKTALES FROM, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Iceland and Denmark, illustrated by Ulla Thynell is organized by Chronical Books. Interestingly no editor is credited.

   None of the tales were familiar to me. They are delightful reading and have similarities from country to country. Magic is common to them all. Trolls appear but are not as ubiquitous as I expected. Likely some of these stories were known to my grandparents, all of whom grew up in Norway. 

Takk for alt,

Al

Tree Picture!

       The tree picture below was taken at the very southern tip of South America. It was on Terri del Fuego, Argentina. L had been in the northernmost city of the world, Hammerfest, Norway, so in Argentina he wanted to visit the world's southernmost city, Ushuaia. From there we travelled south to the southern tip where the tree picture was taken. Obviously, there was prevailing wind to shape the tree, and it was blowing while we were there.

   We began our trip in Buenos Airies. From there we bused through Patagonia to El Calafate. After hiking a bit in the Andes, we continued by bus through Patagonia to Ushuaia. Only once on the trip, when I aksed the same question once too often did L say, "Welcome to elder hostel."

Takk for alt,

Al

We also visited a penguin colony is southern Argentia.

The Gift Of Rain!

      After breakfast. as I was reading the paper online, it darkened outside.  A rain shower moved in and blessed us with the gift of rain. We've had a couple of light showers, .2" or so. This was a bit more serious than that. My gauge, and the one downtown, both showed .7". That's not enough but certainly enough to do some good. It was gentle and very welcome.

   Perhaps it's time to do a reveal. No, baby is due, but a reveal of the picture below. MKV took it in, of all places, Iceland. When I saw it, I thought it so untypical of Iceland that no one would guess it, and no one did. Though I've not been to Iceland it certainly doesn't fit my image.   

    Now, does anyone want to guess where that windblown tree pictured a few days ago was taken?  No, not in South Dakota.

Takk for alt,

Al 

Perhaps If there had been sheep in the picture it would of been a helpful clue. MKV said she took the picture out her hotel window in,,,,,,,,,,,,,ICELAND!  😀

Neighbor to Neighbor

       Driving down a neighbor's field road to access my pasture to search for pocket gophers, I drove by his pasture. When his cattle saw me, they quickly moved to their empty water tank. When I returned, they were still there. There was large container of water on a trailer by the empty tank. Thinking to save the farmer the three-mile trip from his home, and relieve the thirsty cattle, I filled their tank from the container on the trailer.

   A couple of years ago the cattle in that pasture drank from a large slough. When that dried up the farmer dug a deep dugout to provide drinking water. Now that dugout is dry, so he needs to haul water to them.

   When the cattle had drunk and the tank was filled again, I texted the farmer to explain what I'd done, to save him a needless trip. His cattle were in my pasture until early July. The two pastures are only a couple of hundred yards apart. There's sufficient water in my pasture because there's large dam across a waterway.  To save him the necessity of hauling water I suggested he move the cattle back to my land. He's thinking about the offer.

Takk for alt,

Al

PS Also on my mind as I saw the cattle's thirst was the experience of another neighbor, whose pasture is separated by a fence from my land. He, too, hauls water to his cattle. Neglecting to keep them supplied, the cattle broke out of the fence unto my land looking for water. They did not cause as much of a problem as did his hired men driving trucks and four-wheelers through my grass to round up the cattle.

This is similar to the tank from which the cattle drank.

My Bad!

       The other reader pointed out that I didn't blog last night.  Sorry! I'm OK.

Takk for alt,

al

Alone again!

        Well not really because wonder dog, Odie, is here. Unusual as it is for me to have company I just hosted for a week. We laughed a lot, ate well (out), she tolerated my critique of her driving and generally enjoyed ourselves. Two creaky old folks who grew up together and still like each other in our dotage

    It's times like these that Odie's company keeps me from being lonely. Comfortable being alone Odie is a great companion. He proves himself anew every day.

Takk for alt,

Al

Still no winner on the photo contest.

Random photo of Santorini below, which I like.

 

Facebook Follies!

      For many days, weeks? I was locked out of Facebook.  It caused me to think "perhaps I should just live without it." The downside of that it is my connection to friends far and wide. It's my only connection to the teachers in the Thai school where I taught for many years. It's also the conduit to friends in Norway and other countries. Not to mention friends in America.

  Finally, I decided to open another Facebook account to try to maintain that connection. So, what happened? Suddenly I had access to my original account. It's good to have the connection restored.

Takk for alt,

Al

No one has yet guessed the location of the photo poster earlier, so give it a try.

A tree shaped by South Dakota wind.😁