Good bye, Renaissance Fair

I really love the local Renaissance Fair held every fall outside of the Twin Cities. I wish I could go again this year because it's iffy whether there will be one next year. It turns out that the tract of useless, un-arable land that has been home to the fair for many decades is now valuable real estate--for fracking!

As a result, the Renaissance village with all its structures will be torn down. It's not known where or if it might be held next year.

It was great fun to go out for the stage shows, jousting, scotch eggs and shenanigans.

There were so many specialty shops, foods and sights to bring out the crowds every weekend.

But, the frackers are lusting over what lies beneath the festivities.

Here's a family portrait from 1982. My mom and dad are in front. In back are my sister with her son and me (the chubby one) with my son. We had some good times there.

The day JFK was assassinated (11/22/63)

On that fall day of the assassination, it was overcast and windy in Worthington, Minnesota. My oldest child was four and a half. The youngest was four months old. We lived in a trailer court on the edge of town in a two-bedroom mobile home. At 40' by 10', it was really crowded with our family of six, a dog and a cat. I was 23 years old.

The Mickey Mouse Club came on TV every afternoon at 4:00. When I turned on the TV for the kids to watch, there was only "snow". The TV antenna was positioned on a pole standing inside a cement block and braced by the trailer hitch at the front end of the trailer. The wind had spun it around it so it wasn’t picking up a signal from the TV station in Sioux Falls fifty miles away. Since this happened often, I ran outside to turn it so it would pick up the signal. I ran back inside to see if the picture was coming in. It was, but it wasn’t the Mickey Mouse Club. It was Walter Cronkite saying the president would be “lying in state".  I was confused and stunned as the terrible details were slowly revealed over the next hours and into the night. As the reports were repeated over and over, the reality slowly sank in. 

I had the TV on constantly for the next several days watching the continuous coverage in black and white. In the confines of the small mobile home, I was never far from the TV set so I was watching when Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald live in front of millions of people.

I remember being very sad and feeling disconnected from the events so far away, and yet transpiring right in front of me on TV.

 

           This was taken in the mobile home the following year. 

Bimbo wipes out Sara Lee

Today. we went out to the "used bread" store on Silver Lake Road to stock up on our favorite English Muffin Toasting Bread. The stuff is perfect for breakfast toast, French toast, grilled cheese sandwiches and BLT's. Since we use it almost exclusively, we like to keep plenty on hand. The price at the local grocery stores is close to $4.00--the price at the outlet store is half that much.

                                                                                                                                         

                     (They're small loaves so they don't last long.)
When we got to the Sara Lee Bakery Outlet, there was a handwritten sign on the door that the tiny store will be closing on December 14th. We picked up six loaves of the wonderful stuff and asked the lady at the cash register it they were just moving to a new location. She said that a Mexican Corporation called Bimbo Baking had bought out Sara Lee and they were closing all the outlet stores. (Bimbo also bought out Hostess when they went bankrupt and the famous Twinkies were off the market for a while.)

This is the store where we buy big bags of outdated bread to feed the wildlife in the wooded lot. But more than that, it's the store where charities buy bread to make sandwiches for homeless people. It's the store where many elderly and folks on food stamps go to extend their food budget. I can well imagine that there are customers of that store who have had to rely on it for a large part of their diet.

I don't know who will step in and make up for the loss of the last remaining bakery outlets in the Twin Cities. It will be a hardship on a lot of people--and even worse, this comes at the same time that Food Stamp benefits are being reduced. It seems like the poor just can't catch a break!

Still bothered after all these years

I first published this back in February of 2009. It still haunts me.

"I was reading a friend's blog today and she writes about being troubled by a worrisome incident in her past that she was powerless to do anything about.

This reminded me of an incident in a grocery store some years ago. I think about it every once in a while and it continues to bother me.

I had pushed my cart half-way down an aisle when a family of four was coming toward me. The father, a 40-ish beer-bellied type was pushing the cart. When our carts came side-by-side, the man was barking orders to a boy of around 10 on what grocery items to grab and put in the cart. The boy darted back and forth frantically while the man kept harassing him and calling him names.

The scariest part was that close behind the guy were huddled a thin, pale woman and teenage girl. They cowered close together with expressionless faces. The disturbing scene screamed ABUSE. I was angered and appalled that this was going on right in front of me. I desperately wanted to do something. I stood there watching for a moment while I debated whether to ask the woman if she needed help but she avoided making eye contact with me. I was terribly conflicted but afraid of making the bad situation worse. I looked around and other carts were now coming down the aisle and those shoppers were trying to ignore the whole situation. Reluctantly, I moved on and I have felt guilty ever since.

I always wonder what happened to that poor woman and her kids. I stew about what I should have done--alert the store manager? Intervene no matter what? Call the police?

I try to comfort myself that maybe the management saw the incident on security cameras and stepped in to help. But to this day, I wonder what would have happened if I had been more courageous."

Life without turkeys

I haven't seen my turkey troup for a full week. They disappeared into thin air and I miss them.

The odd thing is that they left the day after I finished reading "Illumination in the Flatwoods" by Joe Hutto. Hutto is a naturalist who spent a year living with a flock of imprinted turkeys. He hatched them and lovingly "mothered" them all day, every day until they grew up and moved on.

I first learned about Hutto's experience from a PBS Nature series documentary called "My Life as a Turkey". I totally identified with his affection for the big birds and their fascinating day-to-day experiences in the Florida Flatwoods.

I'm so thankful that I had the benefit of his knowledge when they left. He relates how abruptly the flock's behavior can suddenly change. I'm trying to hold onto the belief that they just had the urge to move on.

I don't mind not having to keep up with feeding them at dawn and dusk each day, but I worry that they might not be getting enough to eat wherever they are. I also worry that something awful happened to scare them away.

So, I keep waiting for them to come back. Whenever I go outside, I look for their tracks in the new-fallen snow. And I miss them.

(I debated whether my turkeys form a troup or a troop. I looked it up and troop refers to soldiers or Scouts and troup refers to a group of entertainers, so actually neither term applies.)

Turkeys in the wooded lot (again)

I have been in a winter slump lately and haven't been able to motivate myself to blog. I've posted a lot about the flock of wild turkeys that I've been feeding and observing. I have been wary of becoming too tiresome on the subject. However, it keeps coming up again.

Several weeks ago, a guy who lives four doors down from me in the same complex got mad about it. He came banging on my bedroom window in the early morning and proceeded to yell at me about turkeys (defecating) on his patio. I'm feeding them on the opposite side of the building from him in the wooded lot which belongs to the city. 

It's been terribly upsetting. If he'd approached me in a civilized manner it might not have been so bad. As it is, I feel vulnerable and threatened by his outrageous behavior. I contacted the condo association management company about it but nothing has been done so far. This grumpy 55-year-old neighbor lives alone ever since his girlfriend left him because of his bad temper. 













The eleven turkeys keep roosting up in the huge cottonwood tree in the wooded lot every wintry night. Last night it was 0 degrees Fahrenheit and very windy. They flew up to the top of the tree at sunset as usual. During the night, I could see the branches swaying in the wind as they rode it out. I feel so bad for them in this nasty weather that it would be terribly cruel to stop feeding them. 

I have not had a problem with turkeys using my patio as a toilet, but maybe it's a courtesy for all the tasty cracked corn and bread crumbs!                          (All photos from Google images)

Good Grief! Christmas is coming!

I just realized that our family Christmas get-together is in two weeks. All I've done so far is to set out the little Charlie Brown Christmas tree and buy some calendars. Not a great start!

We got an entire foot of snow yesterday so we're holing up until all the streets are cleared.  While the fluffy white snow makes it very "Christmassy" outside, I'm really feeling bad for the turkeys. Their whole world has turned upside down. They were hatched back in June and grew up over a long, hot summer. When fall came, it cooled down but there was still plenty of foraging and food to be found. This morning, the food I threw out for them was eaten quickly and some of it disappeared into the snow. Confused, they would scratch with their scrawny Tyrannosaurus Rex toes, but it just moved the snow around.

              (Turkeys trying to find the food buried in the snow this morning.)
The flock moved on plowing swaths though the snow as they looked for food on neighbor's patios. In desperation, they ate snow. After a time they went up on the slope and just hunkered down trying to warm up. No doubt, eating the cold snow gave them chills and stomach pains. After a long rest they moved on. I'm waiting for them to come back and make me feel better about their miserable lot.

I might getting a little too obsessed over them--God knows there are a lot bigger things to worry about--but these turkeys are right here outside my window. I can hear them making their little clucking sounds as they look for food and I'm not the sort of person who can just look away.

Another sad duty of the hoarder

It's December first and I changed my wall calendars to their last page today for yet another year. I have begun shopping for calendars. I've been giving everyone in the family a calendar for Christmas every year for a long time. It's my thing and I really enjoy it.

I love calendar art and so I can't bear to throw old calendars away. As a result, I have a big accumulation of them on my closet shelf. Today, I noticed that the weight of those stacks of calendars was causing the shelf to sag pretty low in the middle. I took down a hefty pile of them and decided some of them have to go.

Sorting through them has been a difficult thing to do. Every one had to be paged through to make sure there weren't any notations of momentous importance, such as a dental appointment in 1996. I also have to make sure there aren't any pictures that I want to save. This made for some brutal decisions, but I finally reduced that pile to less than half.

So now I have the pile of rejects sitting aside ready to be disposed of  humanely. I feel guilty about it because there is some really wonderful photography and artwork in those calendars. Most of them are printed on high-quality paper. They don't deserve such an ignominious fate as to go into the recycling like a mere stack of old newspapers!

I'm melting! I'm melting!

It's pushing 100 degrees again today--like every day for the past week. I have all the drapes closed to keep the sun out but it's a struggle to keep it comfortable, even with fans and the A/C running.

I chopped up an apple and a few other goodies and took a pan of water to set in the shade on the retaining wall by the wooded lot. When I popped open the side door, the mama turkey was only ten feet away. She was panting mightily and all of her poults were too. She promptly led them away from me over to the pine trees. I wanted to call her back, "I've got cool water and food!" But of course, they moved on.

I feel so sad to see all the birds and animal suffering in this heat. I feel so helpless to do anything about it. I just hope she brings them back tonight

I hate to leave on that note, so here's a beautiful, cool juicy carved watermelon to feast your eyes on!

Memorial Day

This is a holiday weekend. Today is Memorial Day, also called Decoration Day. There will be events out at the huge Veteran's Cemetery near Fort Snelling and all across the country. Most folks just go put flowers on the graves of loved ones, however.

My uncle, Wesley Parrish served in WWII and was a POW of the Japanese. He went on with his life and never talked about the experience. He worked hard and had a family because that's how it was done in those days.

Years later, his son--my cousin, Steve--went to Viet Nam. He came home and went on with his life. Like his father, he worked hard and had a family.

Steve's son, Troy is now over in Afghanistan. He's been deployed for the fourth time. His wife just had their first child.

So, here we are celebrating a holiday for all those veterans and service people, and I can't help wondering--when will it get better? Is it the destiny of the free world to keep "putting out fires" forever?

Goose tale

There is a large wetland area across the four-lane road near my home. Every spring, the Canada geese return from the south and set up housekeeping there. And, every year the widower returns to sit and wait for his mate beside the busy road. Six years ago, she was struck and killed in that exact spot.

The other geese have paired up and moved onto their nests. The fluffy little yellow goslings will appear soon, stopping traffic as they waddle across the road for the grass on the other side. But, the gander waits patiently for his chance to join in the rite of spring.  Every time I see him waiting there, I want to cry.

                                             gander
                                      sleek, handsome
                                   lonely, longing, patient
                                       loyalty incarnate                                 
                                            widower

The Canada goose mates for life, and the lifespan of a goose in the wild is 10 to 24 years. There are an estimated three million Canada geese in the country but they are widely hunted. So, there must be hundreds of thousands of geese that have lost a mate like that. It's a cruel world they live in.

Making excuses

I read once that in the course of a normal conversation, the talk will naturally come to a stall every twenty minutes. I guess you could say it sorta "re-boots" before it resumes again.

I've come to think this is also true of writing. It seems that I can only keep blogging for so long until I run out of things to say. When I've been reduced to posting photos I found online, it's time to quit for a while. I'm sure you can understand.

I suffer from a severely critical (even ruthless) Inner Critic. My Muse, on the other hand, is a total wimp. So, while I might be inspired to blog about something, the Critic takes the wind out of my sails. As if that's not enough, the Critic destroys my confidence and will to write!

I must admit that I've also been sidetracked by a volunteer project. Then, there's also the looming specter of approaching my 400th post. I don't know why I should find that intimidating, but it's like running toward a high hurdle. So, I'm backing up to take a hard run at it and get past 400 in a blaze of glory--or its meager bloggie equivalent!

           Borrowed Image--Olivia Tejeda

Threats from chain emails

I got another one of those emails today. It came from a nice, friendly gal I used to work with. Now I enjoy getting most forwards with humor, witty sayings or interesting pictures. However, it really ticks me off when supposed friends forward things like this with threats!

Really? Why would you do that to anybody? (Even if it had cute little leprechauns all over it.)

So, at the risk of adding another year of questionable luck to my lifetime average, I promptly deleted it. Stay tuned for reports on the repercussions!

__________________________________________________

"Leave it up to the Irish to come up with the answer to all our wishes.
Well, at least one.
Make sure you follow the directions carefully. I think we all need a little luck right about now.
Hope the Leprechaun dances his jig for you!
Good luck to everyone! And may all your dreams come true!!

AN IRISH FRIENDSHIP WISH
  
       May there always be work for your hands to do;
       May your purse always hold a coin or two;
       May the always shine on your windowpane;
       May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;
       May the hand of a friend always be near you;
       May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you..
    
       OK, this is what you have to do...Send this to all of your friends!
       But - you HAVE to send this within 1 hour

       From when you open it!

       Now.......Make A Wish!!!!!!

       If you delete this after you read it. You will have 1 year of bad luck!
       But, if you send it to 2 of your friends you will
       automatically have 3 years of good luck!!! )

Holding my breath

Comcast recently raised the cost of my monthly internet service from $65 to $70.  I huffed and puffed and decided that this is the last straw!  So, on Friday, between 12:00 and 5:00 PM (insert joke here) a guy will come to convert the internet service over to Century Link.

There are so many things that can go wrong.

1) I'm most worried about getting my new email address forwarded to all the people and places I've distributed it over the years.

2) I'm worried about getting all my screens and toolbars setup again. 

3) I'm worried that the quoted prices will turn out to be malarkey and I'll wind up paying just as much as if I had stayed with Comcast. 

4) I'm worried that the service will be lousy and I'll kick myself for going to a lot of trouble over nothing.

Here's hoping things go smoothly.

Fading photographs

Back in the 60's, I had four little kids and a full-time job at night in a factory. My husband worked hard delivering freight during the day. We didn't have a lot of spending money, and pictures (to us) were a luxury. It was expensive to mail off the finished roll of film and wait for the photos to come back. They didn't always turn out and your money may have been wasted on disappointing or useless stuff.

As a result, we didn't take pictures on a whim. It was only for a picture-taking occasion that the camera was brought out. Usually, one picture was snapped, maybe two. The roll of film might be in the camera for a year before it was sent off to be developed.

Then a company started selling low-cost photo film with the price of developing included. This seemed like a good deal to me and I took pictures of my four without a thought about the quality of the film.

Sadly, it wasn't until years later that I found out what a scam it was. It turned out that the company was cutting up old movie film stock and selling it for photos. They were aware that the pictures would fade just as old movies do. The ruse to provide the free developing was because the film couldn't be processed by regular developers.

So, here is a picture I took in 1964 of my sweet little kids. I have so few photos of them during those years that I feel guilty and sad. I wish I could tell off those sneaky people who cheated thousands of families out of their memories! Shame on them!

There's ME... and then, there's everybody else!

Lately, it seems like everybody now says, "Me and my friend" instead of, "My friend and I".  I mean you never hear it said correctly anymore!

I cringe when I hear public figures making this error. It's become so ingrained in mainstream communication, I believe it's past the point of no return. To always put yourself before the other person has become the rule.

Some might call that assertiveness, but I call it a sorry sign of the times.

Doe, fawn, fawn fawn

I've been enchanted by frequent sightings of deer and fawns this season but now I'm starting to worry. A doe and three fawns of different sizes were grazing in the neighbors garden at mid-morning.

This is worrisome because deer usually feed in the early morning or evening. Under normal circumstances, they avoid being out in the open--especially with young. The fact that they are often feeding in full view in broad daylight indicates that they are starving. In fact, the youngest fawn seemed quite thin.

There is a "green corridor" that crosses from St Paul up into neighboring Roseville, Minnesota. There are woodsy trails, lakes, parks and a dog park along the route. As a result, there's considerable wildlife in the areas surrounding it. I truly love being so close to it all.

Sadly, it seems inevitable that the DNR will be "culling" the urban deer herds this fall. It seems such an ugly fate for the dainty, lovely animals. The numbers have exceeding the capacity of the area to support them and they will starve.

The upside is that the venison will be provided to charities and food shelves. The hungry deer will then be feeding hungry people--and that is good.

Anyway, the weather was nice

The migrating robins are still passing through from the far northern regions. The berries and crabapples are all gone from the trees, and all the insects are dead so the latecomers will have to subsist on other foods. We've had several hard frosts and all the outdoor plants are dead, as well. 

With the time change over the weekend, the kitties are still demanding to be fed at the time their biological clock goes off, so I got up ridiculously early today. I had the Sunday paper all read before the CBS Sunday Morning show was even over.

We are in the midst of changing two rooms around which necessitated taking all the books out of the bookcases. It's overwhelming to decide which to keep and which to get rid of. I worry about donating them to Goodwill because once when I took some old paperbacks there, one of the guys unloading them told the other guy, "These will just go right in the trash". If the books aren't useful, I would hope they'd certainly recycle them!

So, where do they recycle books?

The Wheels of Life

There's probably a female version of this illustration but it wouldn't be much different. I just get a kick out of progressions like this. They simplify complicated sequences to the bare minimum and yet retain the essence of the subject.

I admit to riding scooter carts at the grocery store on several occasions after hip surgery. This would seem to leave me one step away from the wheelchair. I had to skip the RV interval for economic reasons, but it would have been so great! I would have loved to travel all over the country to see what I was missing. I love Minnesota, but sometimes it seems like we're kinda sheltered here.

The only wheels I have now are on a ten-year-old Impala. It has a dent in the passenger-side fender so the door won't open. I've had it popped out several times but it keeps going back in.
The repair will be expensive so I can't even consider it until I get my tax refund.

So, when you stop to think about it, I guess it's money that greases the wheels of life.

Feeling gimpy and grumpy

The worst thing about babying a gimpy right shoulder is that no housework gets done. I wouldn't sweat it except my youngest daughter and her husband are coming from out-of-town for a visit today. Said daughter is a neat-freak (and she sure didn't get it from me)! Now I'm stressing about getting the kitchen cleaned up and junk put away and my shoulder really hurts, darn it!

Whenever I'm suffering pain, I think about the options available to me--I can take some pills to help ease it, or I can get relief through my doctors even if it takes surgery. There are millions of people in 3rd world countries with no medical care at all. There are women like me who live their lives in unremitting pain that only gets worse. That's why I support Doctors Without Borders.

I may have to go get that cortisone injection whether I want to or not. Thank goodness I have your cheery and interesting blogs to brighten my day!