Let There Be Light!

The Christmas Tree that is fake but Made in the USA found it's way out of the box yesterday! It even has some lights on it, blue ones, Far Guy's favorite! Maybe in a few days it will actually have some decorations on it. I am really getting into the Christmas Spirit this year.

Do you know how hard it is to get an acceptable night photo of Christmas Tree lights? First you have to plunge the entire house into darkness..not real hard these days anytime after 4:30 works fine. Then you have to turn off the TV. No one wants to look at a photograph of CNN. The camera must be held perfectly still. Three seconds is a long time. Far Guy thought my twenty minute photo session was too long. "Are you done yet?" " How is it coming?" Now I understand he dislikes cooking by flashlight but I just needed a few more minutes. Reminder to self : Self buy Far Guy a Miners hat with a light.

A Tripod! That's what I need. I have tried about everything else. Books stacked up, a few books and an upside down bowl, a chair, you name it and I tried it. The log stairs worked the best! If the camera is not held still for those three seconds of exposure your Christmas lights look all squiggly. Kinda like little birds with wings. I had a whole bunch of those shots..now deleted. A few looked really artsy fartsy so I kept them. Controlling light and motion seem to be a key to good photography.

Now if I could just stop the sun from setting so early on the days that it actually shows up for work:)

Christmas Trees : Fake

We have saved about fifteen real trees since we got our fake tree. It is supposed to resemble some kind of Fir tree, it is a soft blue/green color. I don't have to vacuum up needles or water it. It is not a fire hazard. I don't have to scrub pitch off of the floor (Avon Skin So Soft Bath Oil works great.)

The hunt for a perfect tree is short. I just tell Far Guy to bring down the box from upstairs and he spends an afternoon putting it together, fluffing out all the branches and tips.

Some years we do not put it up. If we are going to be gone it hardly makes sense to decorate it and then leave. This year it is seeing the light of day. The children and their children are coming here for Christmas.

Our tree holds no surprises, it is perfect on all sides, I do not have to turn it all different ways to find the best side. It is always the same height, it always looks fine.

I have always been a bit of a Conservationist, I hate the after Christmas scene in large cities. One year in Chicago, the week after Christmas, the amount of trees stuck out with the garbage was sickening.

If you have enjoyed a real tree this year, consider putting it out in your yard. It can still provide shelter for the birds this winter, perhaps you could hang some bird food on it. In the spring you can hang up bits of yarn on it for bird nesting material. In the spring the tree can be shredded and used for mulch.

Mine of course just gets put back in the box, if Far Guy has done a good job of fluffing out the branches he says the same thing every year " Are you sure this whole tree fits in just one box?" :)

Christmas Trees: Real

Do you have an appreciation for real Christmas trees? The smell, the pitch, the spray painted funny green color, the needles falling off all over your floor and covering your packages..making little plink, plink, swoosh sounds as they hit the brightly colored packages and slide off. Trying to remember from one year to the next what the best formula for sugar water was? Do you have a thought somewhere deep in your brain about the beautiful fire hazard you will expose your home and family to? Do you like to have your Christmas tree up a really long time? Or is your true tree spirit only good for a week or so?

My first real appreciation for Christmas trees began in my fourteenth and fifteenth years. A summer job, on a "Shearing Crew." The days were hot and the sun relentless as we made our way down the plantation rows with shears in hand, cutting of all growth that did not make a perfect Christmas tree shape. The tree boss would watch our work closely and come by with his machete and correct our mistakes. These trees were all going to be harvested and sent off to city folks who required perfect trees. I remembered thinking..who in their right mind would want a perfect tree anyway..and pay for it too boot.

My Father would always bring a tree home for us, I never asked where it came from. It would just appear, probably from one of his brothers woods. It was never perfect, one side would be bushier than the other. There seemed to be some comfort to me that it might not have been perfect in the woods, but once decorated it was perfect.

Far Guys Father owned a Christmas tree plantation. He wanted everyone to have a fresh perfect tree for Christmas. We enjoyed many of those trees after we were married. Perfect. He was both a harvester and a planter. Perfect.

Last year we vacationed in Indiana, when we returned to Minnesota, we wanted to bypass Chicago (where there are more than two cars on the road at the same time.) When you are in Mishawaka, Indiana your choices are limited. We had never travelled into the Lower Peninsula of Michigan before, it is a beautiful area. However the Christmas Trees were being harvested there, in OCTOBER. Funny colored Christmas trees, wrapped in nets being loaded onto semi trailers. Feelings of sadness enveloped me, Christmas trees are big business. My sadness lifted as I watched more of the landscape and by doing so I realized that there was as much planting as there was harvesting..field after field of trees stood testament to that as I viewed trees in different stages of growth.

Real true Christmas tree connoisseurs will be both armed with a saw and a shovel, tools you need to be both a harvester and a planter:)

Christmas Mood

Bottomless Lake December 04, 2008

In an attempt to put me in a more cheerful Christmas mood, Far Guy said "I think these woods are getting to you, lets go look at a different part of the woods." I was game, even though I figured Far Guy was just grasping at straws. This time of year, I am easily distracted. So we went off on an adventure. I love adventures.

We headed south, across the big highway (two lane) into the Smoky Hills Forest. Our mission to become more cheerful and to find an old road..the old Corduroy Road..and from there to find the old CCC camp hidden near Bottomless Lake. Far Guy posted part of our adventure over on his blog I Didn't Do it! He took his camera, and it even had batteries in it!

It was a crisp day, a little snow had fallen. We found the entrance to this very old road. It is in pretty good shape, two other people have gone this way today. Chance is helping Far Guy navigate. Lots of logging has been happening, but some areas are being replanted. I love the flow of the forest, the areas of Pines, giving way to Hardwoods, then areas of the piss Popple. Some parcels that adjoin this State Forest have been sold off, they are heavily posted with NO HUNTING signs. Lots of gates are up, and there are a few more hunting shacks than we remembered.

Then I see it, something that angers me to no end. I was too mad to even photograph it. It was a Christmas Tree Hunter, no, luckily for him he was gone..what remained was the bottom part of a very nice Spruce, it had been beheaded..chopped off at it's feet, then at it's waist..then beheaded. The bottom part of the tree was left lying at the edge of the road. Someone stole a Christmas Tree from the State Forest. I hope that Asshole has a miserable Christmas. Then I think, maybe he has kids, and is unemployed. Maybe he really needed that tree. Maybe when things get better for him he will come back and plant two trees.

Far Guy has pretty good eyes for an old guy. The woods have been silent, no birds, no deer, no deer sign, no tracks of anything in the new fallen snow. We know that one person has been here before us today, one of the other vehicles has stopped at a hunting shack. Far Guy slams on the brakes and says "Would you look at that!" Then I see it! A Mink, I have not seen a Mink in a long time. We watch it scampering around on the forest floor, it goes up a tree and comes down again. Far Guy gets out and takes a few photographs, while I hold Chance by the scruff of his neck in the truck. Minks are normally nocturnal, so seeing one in the daytime is a real treat. It is a rare gift we have witnessed. I feel my bad mood lifting.

We wind our way to Bottomless Lake, low and behold we find the remnants of another tree hunter, of a different sort this time.

One with very sharp teeth building a winter home. A beaver. He is only taking out the piss popple. My mood is greatly improved.
What kind of things improve your Christmas mood?:)

Note: Piss popple is actually Populus deltoides, often called Aspen, or Quakies, or here in Minnesota..Popple. I call it piss popple because when used for firewood it sizzles and weeps, moisture comes out both ends of a log. Hence my nickname..Piss Popple..kinda has a ring to it!

Christmas Party Advice

Well if you have not guessed by now, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years are NOT my favorite time of year. I do not get it, never have, will I ever? I am attempting to work through this aversion. I am attempting through this blog to put things into their proper perspective. I believe I have some severe form of Holiday Ho Hums. Today we will venture into (insert danger music here) THE PARTY ZONE!

Never ever serve traveling guests Deviled Eggs and Egg Nog at 6 AM. I was served this once, yes we were to arrive at this Iowa get together at 9PM..unfortunately we were caught in an Ice Storm and our arrival was delayed by nine hours. I ate some of those fancy eggs and slurped some of that not so great nog..I still shudder at the thought.

Never ever count the number of Christmas trees in the entire house..it is impolite and tacky. You should only count the real trees..zero. It is also impolite to rearrange the decorations on those trees. You should not count the number of chaffing dishes on the buffet table, or exclaim "Love your Christmas China, everything is so matchy matchy."

If you are at a party and there is a hot pink and silver tree in the bathroom, and you start giggling and cannot stop. Other guests will stare at you. They will stare at you like you have two heads, one of which may be spinning around. I knew they would stare, I tried really hard, I stayed in there with that tree that must have been the spawn of Mary Kay Cosmetics until I thought my giggles were under control. As soon as I exited that bathroom, my giggles returned. The harder I tried to act normal the more I giggled. Far Guy said "Could you try to get a hold of yourself?" I tried, I really did. What did he want me to do..go outside and stick my head in a snowbank?

Oh the stress of those parties, and wanting to fit in. To look perfect, to say just the right thing at the right time.

Far Guys best friend Gary was in charge of me one year. Gary had a plan to keep me from being so nervous. Well the name of his little plan was Operation: Black Russian. It was only supposed to relax me a little, just enough to keep me from giggling. It was a nice try on his part, but apparently Gary misjudged my alcohol tolerance. I remember very little..the part I do remember involved sitting on the floor in the kitchen talking to the Generals dog while maids in cute little black uniforms with white aprons scurried about. I do recall Far Guy telling Gary " I told you she doesn't drink." Far Guy said "Why in the world did you feel compelled to converse with the dog?" Well duh..the dog was the most interesting person there.

Then there was always the big question of what to wear. Well if it is thirty below zero I am going to wear something warm. If I have spent all day in town Christmas Shopping freezing my butt off going from store to store while the North Dakota wind is blowing fifty miles an hour, the last thing on my mind is high fashion. I am thinking only of warmth. By the time I am delivered appropriated dressed in a non snow pants type outfit, and without a bit of alcohol to relax me. I am a bit tense, and their house is freezing cold, but they have a perfectly good wood burning fireplace with no wood to burn. I should have kept my blue lips shut and not said "I knew it was BYOB but I did not realize that it was BYOW..Bring Your Own Wood."

Well that about wraps up my party advice..one more thing..it's OK if you scatch me off of your Christmas party list:)

The photo today, is one cool party cat Chaucer, he belongs to our daughter Jen!

Christmas Shopping

I dislike shopping. Shopping for Christmas gifts is not real high on my priority list. I believe it to be a myth perpetuated by shop keepers and ad agencies, we are all sucked into their shopping vortex. Some are sucked in so hard and trampled on by so many sometimes they die. Shopping can kill you.

Just because some wise men from the east brought some gifts to a special baby in a manger, does not mean we should be assaulted with Christmas Carols and Christmas Shopping way before Halloween. How and why did Christmas become something I believe it is not? Christmas has become a shopping nightmare. Some stores invite you to Christmas in July. That is just SICK. I would like to forget Christmas shopping all together. Does that mean I would forget Christmas? NO, I would just like it to mean something again, on a non shopping level. I yearn so for the simpler times...perhaps with the recession now a certainty (for the past year) and a depression on the horizon more people will "GET IT." Some will be forced too get it and realize a pair of socks under the tree or something homemade or handmade and from the heart is the real treasure, that and the Christmas Story read out loud from the Bible. ( end of sermon.)

I guess I should take a class in shopping, like remedial shopping, or maybe shopping for dummies. I am a female, shouldn't I have been born with some type of shopping gene? Or am I deficient in some type of hormone? What is wrong with me?

Believe you me, I have pondered this for years. If I could find all of the Christmas gifts I am required to purchase in a Bookstore, Antique Shop, Auction Sale or the local Thrift Shop or even a Garage Sale..I would be the best shopper around. When I realized this, I realized it is not me that has the problem..but the gifted, you know the people who get the gifts. The gift I choose that will say I love you, you are special misses something in translation. I am a failure, I always get the wrong gift in the wrong size, wrong kind, wrong color..wrong, wrong, wrong..like a big old buzzer going off in my head. Then one day I just said to myself "Self, this is madness, stop the shopping cart."I also told Far Guy if he wanted to shop he could, far be it from me to hold anyone back from shopping. I did assist him for a few years until he finally saw the light, and it was a blue light special.

CASH! In a Card! Low and behold, it might not always be the right size, but after Christmas you can buy twice as much with your cash. I do buy a few gift certificates at local restaurants. I do not purchase gift cards. I will shop for Far Guys gift online, I know exactly what I want him to want ..he has not mentioned it for years..but I just know if I can find it..he will declare me the best shopper ever! Chance will probably join right in, cause he is easily bought with a few yummy treats:)

Wistful Wednesday: January 1917

The little boy with the cute haircut is Far Guy's Dad. He was 2 years and five months old in this photograph. He is wearing knee pants and long stockings. He is standing in front of a sleigh. Do you see the buckboard seat on the sleigh? There are also two sleigh robes. In January 1917, traveling by horse drawn sleigh was the only way to get to Grandma and Grandpa's house nine miles away.

Far Guys Dad told these stories to us many times:

"Mother would get lonely for her family in town. Plans would be made for a trip. Dad would hitch up the team of horses to the sleigh and we would make the trip to town. We used blankets to stay warm. The trip took about three or four hours. Dad would unhitch the team when we got there, and he would take them over to the livery stable. We stayed overnight and would return home the next day. When I was a little older Dad rigged up a cover for the sleigh, we stayed cozy warm then because there was a wood stove in the sleigh."

Of course there is probably much more to these stories, these are only the bits and pieces that we both remember:)

Paper Chains

The tree stood naked in the classroom. It had to thaw out and tempt us with it's glorious fresh cut fragrance. It waited, we waited.

Finally the day came when the teacher would bring out the strips of green and red paper and the paste. Helpers were assigned their jobs, some pushed desks together for a makeshift table, some passed out the strips of paper, some passed out Popsicle sticks, some moistened pieces of brown paper towel and folded them into squares and delivered them to waiting children. The paste was in a big jar, a big glob of it would be placed in the center of the make shift table usually on a metal plate. The Popsicle stick was to be used as a tool to snare some paste. You had to snare enough to properly glue the ends of your first link together. Too little paste and your link would not hold, too much and it took too long to dry. If you gave up on your Popsicle stick and used your fingers to apply the glue, your fingers would begin to take up the color of the strips and stick to everything you touched. The smell of paste and wet brown paper towels filled the air.

The paper chain was supposed to be red, green, red, green. Someone would mess up, and get two reds together, sometimes they would cry. With the paste we were using mistakes were easily corrected. Our goal was a chain as long as our classroom, when it was together it was laid on the floor to dry completely overnight. Everyone helped with clean up, the desk tops and our hands were washed.

The next afternoon just before school was out, everyone would take up part of that paper chain and hold it gently off of the floor. The tree was ready and waiting in the middle of the classroom. Our teacher stood at the tree and accepted each students part of the chain, weaving it in and around the branches. When all of our paper chain was on the tree, we would sing "Jingle Bells" stand around the tree and admire our handiwork.

A simple tree trimmed by students, who learned cooperation, patience and teamwork while creating simple paper chains for their classroom Christmas tree:)

Christmas Puppies

1996 Moses, G 'Day Mate and Captain all Shetland Sheepdogs or Shelties

My Grandparents D were firm believers that every child should have a dog. They gave me my first dog for my third Christmas back in 1954. His name was Frostie. I have many pictures of him lurking in the back ground, when I am holding a birthday cake. He was probably a mutt, part Collie and who knows what else. I do know that one of my very first memories is of the smell of a dog. I can never remember being afraid of a dog as a child. Growing up on a farm we went through our share of dogs. Some were runners, my Dad would deal with them. A gunshot early on a Saturday morning meant that someone had been dealt with. I learned early on to accept dogs coming and going, weaving their way in and out of my life, but I did not like it. Dogs were expendable, never allowed in the house, and if they ran off with other dogs or chased cattle especially calves in the spring they were soon gone. I would always pitch a fit, and bawl for days after one of them disappeared.

The only advice my parents gave my husband-to-be Far Guy was "Never let her have a dog, you will save yourself a lot of grief if she never has any." It was the truth.

As the Christmas Season approaches, anyone that is thinking about adding a dog or even a cat to your household, or giving a grandchild a Christmas puppy or kitten. Please stop and think. If you want to give a live gift to a child..are they ready for the responsibility...are they old enough to care for an animal? A gift certificate or a promise of a new puppy when school is out seems much better to me, time for kids and puppies to bond and make connections.

I have had three Christmas puppies in my lifetime. Frostie when I was three. G' Day Mate who was part of a litter of our Shelties and was already in our house, I gave her to Far Guy as a Christmas gift because I could not bear to part with her, she was part of our family for eleven years. And Chance, we got him the day after Christmas four years ago. It worked out well for these Christmas Puppies, but usually that is not the case. Puppies should be more than a good photo opportunity on Christmas morning:)

Christmas Program At Church: A Memory

A long time ago when I was a small child, we went to a church that had maybe 15 families. The entire month of December we would practice for the "Christmas Program." Every Saturday morning we would be hauled off to the church for practice. First practicing the songs, our Pastor was tone deaf and the old foot pump organ was slightly off key. I am tone deaf, and cannot carry a tune to this day, perhaps from these early music lessons. Then we practiced our spoken parts, these were usually hand written by the Pastor, scribbled on bits and pieces of scrap paper. It was to be memorized. Word for word. When you were little the parts were small and to the point, "There was no room for them in the Inn." As you got older the spoken parts got to be more difficult. No one ever spoke loud enough to be heard the evening of the program. The only one that knew if you messed up was the Pastor and you. I swear when it was time for my part to be said aloud, the old men would stop shuffling their feet and all the babies in arms would be suddenly silent. It was like the whole world stopped until I got the appropriate words out, sometimes the words would tumble from my mouth so fast they should have required a translator. What a relief when they were finally spoken. I always hated being one of the last kids with a part, that meant I had to nervously wait for most of the program to be over before I could feel any relief and relax.

After the program, the ladies passed out paper bags, everyone got a paper bag filled with treats. I used to peak inside my bag to make sure the apple was in there. Just my luck, I would get the only bag with no apple and I would not realize it until we got home, at which time it would be too late. I deserved that apple, giving up entire Saturday mornings to practice and memorize my part, and then getting no apple would have dissolved me into tears for sure. I clutched that sack in my hands all the way home, we lived just four miles from the church, so the car would not be warm, so I shivered all the while clutching onto that bag. Our good going to church clothes were never as warm as our everyday clothes. Sometimes that four mile ride seemed to take forever.

When I got home I would take out that apple, and polish it. I would separate out all my peanuts in the shells from the hard candy, and the occasional chocolate covered white sweet mountain of a candy that I can not recall the name of. I would brush off all the peanut skins that would adhere to the hard candy. I would put the hard candy on my dresser. I would then eat all of the peanuts and wait for my Mother or Father to cut up the apple into slices for my brother and I. I would share my apple with him, as long as he promised to share his with me. This promise to share was usually firmed up by "Swearing on a stack of Holy Bibles as tall as our Dad" None of that linking pinkie swearing for us. We did the real thing raising our right hand and everything. After all if you raised your right hand and swore on a stack of Holy Bibles taller than your Dad, there was no way you could back out of a promise made:)

Hocus Pocus

I think I might have met a witch, how do you tell for sure? She had no pointy hat, no warts on her nose, she looked normal. Well as normal as me anyway, blonde, and glasses..she wore a shirt with a peace sign on it. Should that have raised a red flag?

She talked about, bad energy and good energy. With pain being bad energy. She was the speaker at the Trigeminal Neuralgia Support Group meeting last Tuesday night. She recommended one of her "mixtures" as a miracle cure. I asked her what was in her mixture..she could not tell me. I have a list of hundreds of medications and supplements that Far Guy cannot take. If I call her, she can tell me exactly whats in it..yet she could not name even one ingredient. Well I am not a great one to ask for a recipe either..but I do know the basics for most recipes I concoct. Sugar, cocoa and milk equals hot cocoa! A hotdish would have meat, pasta, potatoes, or rice and a vegetable with some kind of sauce. A few recipes does not make me a Chef..only a cook.

She recommended that we come in for the Ionic Foot Baths, to rid our bodies of heavy metals. When all the metals were gone, she would give us a special potion to give us back the metals we need. She recommended that everyone go to a special Dentist and have all the fillings removed from our teeth.

She recommended touch point acupuncture, she demonstrated this on a likely victim. She had a shiny silver tool, that kind of looked like a tire gauge, she rubbed it along the lady's finger and went into a trance. By "trance " I mean..special words that obviously must accompany the procedure for it to work. She finally found what she was looking for in the lady's finger, a spot of extreme pain and tapped it with a sharp point at the other end of her fancy tool. Then she took out a little band-aid type thing with a metal point on it and put it precisely on that spot. She kept asking the lady where else she hurt besides her head, well if you ask an elderly woman enough times where else she hurts ..eventually she will come up with another complaint. Well wouldn't you know..that one was addressed also. She said our bodies are all out of whack. That our bodies should be a perfect PH of 7. That we are most likely too acidic. We would benefit from full body massages also, well here is my take on that sort of pampering.

Well about this time, I am thinking..someone is way out of whack..and it ain't me. I do not know what other types of services are available at her place of business..I do not know if she is part of the new age movement. or if she is a witch. What do you think? I have met many weirdos in my life, but never one like this before:)

Thanksgiving Afternoon

We spent the afternoon with our daughter Trica and her family at her in laws home in nearby Park Rapids. Our son in law is the baby in a family of eight. Most all of them were there. It was a full house, so two more added to the mix didn't make much difference as I was reminded several times during the afternoon.

I did enjoy my time visiting with Granddaughter Madison, we talked about school and hockey. She got a chance to talk to me one on one. She is struggling with her Math, thought she knew the material, but totally blew a test. She still wants a horse, and a puppy. Both ideas I tried to gently put to rest, you live in town and horses aren't allowed and the best time to get a puppy is right after school is out for the summer. She talked all about the books she is reading. When she was barred from the adult table because she wanted to sit next to me, I just told her we would sit together on the floor by the fireplace and eat our dinner. So we did. After dinner, we played a game called Phase Ten with Granddaughter Paige and one of their other cousins, Matthew who is also 10. I tried to find the rules of the game. Those kids made up rules right and left. Funny how you can have such a good time with three nine and ten year old kids.

Madison, Gizmo and Matthew

I pods, phones and hand held games seemed to be the order of the day, as all of the children had them. Even the adults were checking their pagers and phones. The teenagers had multiple devices. No one was really communicating (as in talking to each other) ...I found it strange..I would have made a pretty little basket and checked all electronic devices at the door. That may have sparked some lively conversation:)

Yes, the Lake is totally frozen! It is one huge reflective surface.

Thanksgiving 2008

"Once, when my feet were bare, and I had not the means of obtaining shoes I came to the chief of Kufah in a state of much dejection, and saw there a man who had no feet. I returned thanks to God and acknowledged his mercies, and endured my want of shoes with patience." ~ Sadi

I have many blessings in my life, all of which I am extremely thankful for!

I am not in a real bad mood yet, something I am sure other's will be thankful for:)

Wistful Wednesday: 1957

March 1957, My Mother, me, I was six years old, and my brother, he was three. My Mother obviously gave us some kind of treat, and we were delighted! She used to sew our clothing, I remember that checked shirt I was wearing, it was one of my favorites. It had a fancy trim on the front, and buttoned down the back. I recognize some things in the photograph, the enamel dish washing pans, the hot water bottle, the dish rack thingy. There is an old covered aluminum cake plate on the counter, and a tin of Mixo. Perhaps someone can enlighten me on the Mixo, was it a shortening?

Do we look like troublemakers? I was the leader, my brother was the follower. I had a VERY hard time following the old saying "Children should be seen and not heard." It was one of those things I just did not agree with, and still don't:)

All About The Stuffing

How do you make your stuffing? Do you dry your own homemade bread for the stuffing? Do you buy it in a bag? Heavens to Betsy..you don't use the kind in a red box ..do you?

Personally I want some of my Grandmother D's stuffing. I think hers was the best I have ever tasted. It had apples and raisins. It was moist, never dry, and never cooked to the sides of the roaster. Oh come on..you know the kind I am talking about..the stuffing that was in the oven for too long or the oven was too warm. It coats the inside of the roasting pan in a layer so thick it has to be soaked for a day or two. Then you think..hey I should have spayed that pan with something..it is always too late by the time I remember that too.

Sometime along the way, Far Guy got put in charge of the stuffing. He doesn't put in any raisins or apples. He cooks up the giblets and uses them in the stuffing. He chops them up really fine, so unless you know they are there, you hardly realize it. All these years he has been sneaking some liver into our diets.

I remember one Thanksgiving, he and Dick (Son in Law) were in charge of dinner. Dick has what I call a highly tuned gag/vomit reflex..he gags very easily..one hand into that stuffing mixture and he was a goner. Far Guy thought it was pretty cool, and pushed both of Dick's hands into the stuffing. Dick came running out of the kitchen calling Far Guy a sick pervert. Far Guy went on to explain that only sissy's mix stuffing with a spoon. They are not very compatible in a kitchen.

I have had corn bread stuffing when we lived in Florida, it is OK. I have had wild rice stuffing here in Minnesota, it is OK. I have had stuffing in a fancy restaurant, theirs was pathetic. I told them to tell the Chef that the stuffing sucked, but I was glad they used real potatoes instead of the kind out of a box. I like to often temper my negative comments with something positive. No one should ever ask me how was your meal?..how is everything tasting?..did you enjoy your meal? Far Guy will sometimes request my silence.."Please don't say anything bad." OR "Could you hold onto your opinion until we are in the car?" I could..but WILL I? Sometimes I am greatly challenged to walk out of some place knowing that I was served inferior food, and when asked for my opinion I bit my tongue so Far Guy could feel more comfortable for the rest of the day. What about me? I swear once we reach the car, he goes into an ignore mode anyway, that meal is behind him and he is just worried about the next one.

Stuffing..everyone has their favorites..care to share yours?:)

All That Advertising

With every issue of my favorite magazines I get more angry. Since Roy Reiman sold his entire company to Readers Digest in April of 2002, Roy's promise back in 1970 has been forgotten. His promise was "A good magazine, with no advertising." I bought into that hook line and sinker. He did it, his company was successful.

I loved their "family" of publications. In the 1980's when I was looking for magazines to put in the cottages at the resort, Country Woman, and Farm and Ranch Living joined The Minnesota Conservation Volunteer as my favorites to share with my clients. Simple well written fare, with marvelous photographs and no distracting ads.

Later I subscribed to more of Roy's magazines, adding Country, Country Extra, Reminisce, Reminisce Extra, Birds and Blooms, Birds and Blooms Extra, Taste of Home and finally Back Yard Living. Ten of their publications, I loved them, I loved that there were no ads. I was a tad irritated when they began to stuff the plastic sleeves with junk ads but at least I could deal with them once, and be done with it. I did not have to look at ads every time I turned a page.

It didn't take Readers Digest long to introduce advertising into the "family." First only an ad or two here and there. I wrote to them, and said simply "I do not appreciate your ads." I received a form letter..stating that due to the increased printing and postage costs, ads appearing in the magazine were one way to compensate instead of raising the subscription price, and the ads would be well chosen.

Last week my Farm and Ranch Living showed up, as did my copy of Country..with even more ads. I sent emails to them. I will not be renewing the majority of my subscriptions with them anymore. I will keep Farm and Ranch Living, and Far Guy really likes to read Reminisce. The others are history.

I hope that the leadership at Readers Digest finds that the worthless tacky ads were worth it. I hope that they have recouped the 760 Million that they paid for Roy's magazines. If they go belly up..I can't say I will be sorry. They bought out a good solid company with a broad customer base, then they advertised themselves right out of customers. That was one heck of a sorry business plan.

To tell you the truth, I hate all forms of advertising. If the Drug Companies spent as much on research and development as they do on ads we would have a cure for Cancer by now. If the big three car companies spent their ad budget on developing affordable alternative fuel vehicles they wouldn't need a bail out.

This time of year I am particularly irritated by all the ads..perfume..liquor..diamonds..beer..the luxury car with the huge red bow...all meaningless ads to me, I don't feel compelled at all to run out and buy anything in those ads. Perhaps I am a bit of a Scrooge, however I would like to hear "I 'd like to buy the world a coke" a few more times. That one did inspire me to become a loyal Coke customer:)

Magic Ice

"Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience." Ralph Waldo Emerson

If the weather holds cold with no snow the lakes will soon be perfect. Maybe the magic ice will arrive. Ice that only comes every ten years or so here in Minnesota, perfect ice for skaters on the lake.

The teenage girls, would check the ice everyday after school. "Mom do you think it is safe yet?" NO, not yet, be patient girls." Then one day I say they can skate but only along the shore, and only in front of our place, and only when I am there, watching... ready to haul them out should the ice crack and they were to take an icy dip. Magic Ice, sometimes this ice would then be defiled by icy rains and heavy snows, disappointment..patience was not rewarded its full due.

Once in a great while, for a few days it is the true magic ice. The magic ice you wait years for. After school the teenage girls run down the drive arriving breathless with excitement. "It didn't snow! Lets go MOM!" I have checked the ice, it is safe, they can skate out further in the lake today, maybe today will be the day that they can skate across the entire lake. The lure of being able to skate across this magic ice has a pull on them like Norwegians to a Lutefisk dinner.

The ice is clear, stretching out across the lake, clear and spooky. You can lay on your belly and shield out the light with your mittened hands and stare into the murky depths. You can see the weed beds, the submerged logs, ancient trees, and the black drop offs. The dogs would lick my face and rouse me from my under ice explorations ..as if to say "Pay attention to the girls." The ice would be like a huge frozen mirror, with a series of cracks and fissures that must be there every year, but only visible in magic ice years.

The girls would skate, sometimes chasing each other in a game of tag, sometimes hand in hand. Giggling, cheeks bright red, eyes sparkling. "Mom the ice is great! Can we skip school tomorrow? Ice as great as this shouldn't be wasted." "NO, you have to go to school, what kind of Mother lets their kids skip school to go ice skating anyway."

Only a few years was the ice perfect..to make it safely across the lake, I would watch them on the opposite shore, specks skating along. Specks growing larger as they skated toward me and the safety of home..on Magic Ice:)

Modes of Transportation

We live in the "Boonies" sometimes this is very apparent.

A neighbor Bob, takes his bike into town, he has a basket on the front of his bike. He uses the basket for groceries, I have seen him with three plastic grocery bags, one in his basket and one each on his handlebars. He is retired and has time so if his wife needs something from the store, he takes off on his bike. I have seen him out on his bike when it was below zero, on those days he wears a scarf around his neck and face and the tail ends of the scarf trail behind him as he pedals down the road. He rides his section of highway several times a week, he is one of those guys that cleans up a section of roadway, collecting the garbage that others throw out of their cars into the ditch. He and his lovely wife have a big blue highway sign that marks their achievement. I feel sorry for him when it rains, although I think he secretly loves to ride in the summer rains. Sometimes when I go to town I see his bike in the ditch, and no Bob, my heart skips a beat...and then I see him walking a mile away. The way some people drive now a days, I would never attempt to ride a bike on the roadway. Some amount of bravery must be needed.

Another elderly gentleman, is almost always seen on his lawn mower. It is his preferred mode of transportation, he has a covered homemade trailer that he totes behind him. I have often wondered, what is in that trailer?

Then there is the elderly gentleman who takes his tractor to church. The church he prefers to attend is about ten miles from his rural home. You have to be really dedicated to go to church by tractor, I would be tempted to just open the good book and read something aloud and call it good. Another small tid bit about this individual, he lives in a barn, he moved in there after his house burned down years ago.

Are all of these country gentleman, making the best of what they have? Or are they making a statement? Are they so poor that they cannot afford a vehicle? Has their old age given way to senility? Two are dependant on fuel, one is dependant on pedal power, non of them are required by law to license or insure their mode of transportation they do not even have to have a drivers license. I have a theory about these men...they are all probably really wealthy, because they don't get all caught up in the material side of life. I bet that none of them have a credit card in their wallet and their homes are paid for, in this day and age ..that is wealthy. Do you know of any elderly gentlemen or women in your area that use a different mode of transportation ? :)

Power

Far Guy should really read my blog every day. Sometimes he is left out of my loop. Yesterday after my chain saw comment, he got an email that said "Don't let Mom near the chain saw." I wonder if he was scared for just a moment? Trish says she wants the desk, fantastic..now they just have to round up some really strong people to help move the heavy old thing..it weighs half a ton.

Then Far Guy says "Honey you can't use the chain saw in the house." What? I am the only one that dusts. I let him use a chain saw in the house when he and Ron were building the stairway.

Now I can't use one?? It hardly seems fair. Oh well I probably wouldn't have been able to start the darn thing anyway. I could have used the Saws All, it is electric!


I HAD an electric chainsaw once, Andy (Son in law) bought it to cut down one lousy tree in their yard. When he was done with it, I bought it from him, there was something that intrigued me about an electric chainsaw. I think it was that dangling cord, the I will start every time, just plug me in..we can conquer everything together persona of that beautiful little tool that sucked me in. I was only limited by the length of my electric cord, a bunch of cords strung together and I was on the edge of the woods, trimming! I could venture into the woods, and I mentioned this to Far Guy, he said "Go For it" well the electric cords were a pain in the butt in the brush, I kept wrapping cords around trees and unplugging myself. I learned how to make a loopy knot in my cord to prevent this, but I was so limited.


One day I had a marvelous idea, I had a generator, and a three wheeler and a trailer..I could venture out further that way. Far Guy said "NO" That's it.. just "NO". So I fixed him, I just drug really big branches back to the yard and cut them up. When I asked for my own electric start generator, I was told, It was not necessary as when we need the generator there is no electricity. Well I know that! It would just make it easier for me to escape into the woods with the trailer ..shortly after that my chainsaw mysteriously broke, then it mysteriously disappeared. So I have to use one of his Chain Saws now, and they are not electric, and by the time I get the stupid thing started I don't feel like cutting up anything. It is probably just as well...but you have never felt such power..until you have had your own electric chainsaw:)

Cutting The Cord

Today was supposed to be the day that the people that bought the big greenhouse were supposed to dismantle it and move it on out. Well actually last Tuesday was to be the day, then they postponed until today. The wind is up today, they are taking down the end wall, and it is pretty cold (12 degrees) and windy out there. I can tell that this is going to take days. I would just like it to be over. For me it is like having a child and the doctor is ready to cut the cord and then he gets a long phone call....

This guy, has a dream, all well and good. I can support him in his dream, growing plants is a rewarding experience. Not everyone can do it. In an effort to help this guy out, I have been upstairs in my office going through my file cabinets. I sort into piles, recycle, the I have a dream guy, Judy and Marty. I am not sure if Judy or Marty want what I have saved for them, if not I will recycle those piles too. I have four file cabinets full of business related "stuff" to go through. Stacks of books and magazines, old issues of Horticulture Magazines. I am going to get the chain saw up there to saw apart the huge oak desk. It was one of those executive corner units in a fancy bank, I no longer need it. Far Guy needs a spot to set up his model trains.

It seems like closing down this business is taking FOREVER. I felt really good after I reclaimed the retail space for my garage, and I am totally loving having my own garage, with a remote garage door opener! I felt pretty good after the small greenhouse was out of here. I am hoping that the weather holds so that this greenhouse can make it's way down the road too. I am really, really, ready to cut the cord:)