Posts Tagged ‘friends’
Lotta Love
It is classically crispy and spring-like this morning, even though we are still weeks away from the vernal equinox that marks the arrival of the next season. The planet continues to melt and cook as predicted by climate scientists. Imagine that.
A couple of days ago, there was still enough snow in some spots that Asher could almost disappear in his hunt for rodents.
This morning, the high ground of the hay field is fully exposed.
Paw and boot prints in the soft, slushy snow from last night are perfectly preserved by the temperature drop below freezing, so we can see where Asher and the dog sitter walked while we were away last night. We were in the Cities for a Valentine’s dinner at the home of our friends, Pam and John, before the four of us attended “Saturday Night Love” at the O’Shaughnessy Auditorium at St. Catherine University in St. Paul.
One of our favorite humorous storytellers, Kevin Kling, and six music and theater friends offer an annual show on themes of love. This year, love was greatly needed, in light of the abuse Minnesota has suffered at the hands of brutal ICE agents’ unconstitutional provocations and murderous attacks on citizens. The collective attempt to process the trauma of the endless days of stress was palpable in the robust shared audience participation and heartfelt responses to the entertainment provided on the stage.
The hilarious familiarity of situations and word-images that Kevin Kling paints with his strong Minnesota accent is always a special treat. He harkened back to the days we drank well water directly from the hose and played with Jarts lawn darts. In classic Minnesota form, he shared a quote that if you mess with one tater tot, you mess with the entire hotdish.
The packed auditorium seemed to respond so universally to each of the occasional references to the attacks by the oppressive regime that I found myself wondering if any MAGA supporters might be in the audience. They could just as equally appreciate reminiscent storytelling, popular music, poetry, and show tunes. If so, what must they sense from the emphatic response of so many people around them?
What do they think when so much love for all of humanity is expressed with such robust enthusiasm by hundreds of others?
It’s not something I can comprehend. What I do know is that the love vibrations being shared last night were wonderfully energizing. It was refreshing to receive more than we gave for a change.
It has left us vibrating, still.
All we need is love, dat dadatta da!
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Unexpected Fun
Forgetting for a moment that citizens of our country are under attack from our own government was more fun than we expected yesterday. While the bowling by the unpracticed novices of our family qualified as comical, it takes a measurable level of personal strength to laugh at one’s own foibles displayed so openly among strangers. I’m pretty sure I accomplished rolling a gutter ball following a previous frame strike. D’oh!
After surviving the sensory overload of overly rambunctious youngsters, a pop music soundtrack, clanging and banging arcade machines, and plenty of crazy lighting effects, we made our way to the Namaste India Grill & Brewhouse for laughter around the table. With a menu of enough delectable choices to make my head spin, I don’t think there was a duplicate order among any of the six of us.
I treasured hearing an impassioned conversation from a booth nearby in a language I didn’t recognize. We arrived before the dinner rush and were able to witness the gradual increase of customers from a variety of nationalities filling the tables, which bolstered the atmosphere of fun.
Alone with Cyndie on the drive home after precious time with our kids, we discovered the best surprise of the day. Turning her attention to her phone for messages, Cyndie discovered calls from a friend from graduate school in San Diego, some 46 years ago.
Cyndie and her two best friends from that time in graduate school had lost touch over the years and miles, but Susan and Lupe were moved to search for Cyndie’s information to offer their support for the ongoing conflict in Minneapolis.
Apparently, I have written enough times about our life adventures that this blog, along with the details of our labyrinth location that we have submitted to the Labyrinth Society, provides enough clues to reach us. For the record, that is by design.
Cyndie was moved to tears to hear Susan’s voice on the message in the car and could hardly wait to call her back when we got home. I could see years melting away from Cyndie’s aura as she flipped through old photographs from such a long time ago.
I recognize that feeling of a bond with friends who shared such a significant time of life, the challenges of higher education, and the unknown places it might lead to for all of them.
The reconnection was an unexpected bonus of fun on our day. I picked up the excitement vicariously through how vividly it reinvigorated Cyndie. Finding out that this blog helped the three of them rediscover their friendship connection again warms my heart.
Thanks for your keen sleuthing efforts to find us, Susan and Lupe! LOVE!
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Wonder Dog
Before I get to today’s post, I want to proclaim that I unequivocally object to everything the current U.S. criminal masquerading as a leader is up to, as well as all of the rest of the people in positions of power, who are allowing things to happen. It is soul-crushing and heartbreaking.
Our New Year’s getaway to Mike and Barb’s cabin was not entirely for Asher’s benefit, but he did seem to receive the bulk of everyone’s attention while we’ve been here. On a walk through the woods along a portage from Bluewater Lake to Trout Lake, we paused to let Asher zoom on the snow-covered ice.
He is enthralled with the scent he picks up from the deer tracks in the snow and would gladly follow them endlessly if we allowed. A gnome home in the trunk of a tree didn’t even get a sniff from him, probably because it looks like they must have traveled south for the winter.
No one is shoveling their entrance.
The extreme cold has softened, and it is pleasant to be out enjoying winter at its best. We’ve received fresh fallen snow each day, which is keeping everything white and making it look like we are playing in a snow globe.
As darkness fell, we heard the pop of a fireworks shot down the lake, which Barb and Mike knew indicated their neighbors were going to do a show of multiple shots soon. With a full moon peaking through the light cloud cover, we decided to walk down to the lake to watch.
Since Asher had never shown any reaction to gunshots or thunderclaps, we decided to test his reaction to the fireworks.
Our mistake was in assuming he would be as oblivious to them as he is to the other loud booms. The poor guy flipped out. Our 90-pound puppy went into a full-on panic of yelping and trying to drag me as fast as he could, and as far away as he could get.
We have confirmed our wonder dog’s kryoptonite.
Lesson learned, the hard way. This morning, Asher woke up as happy as ever, and he and I had a wonderful walk at dawn, leaving last night’s terror a memory we hope he won’t need to relive. In a short time, we will pack him up along with our bags and leftover food and head for home.
It’s been a fabulous visit. I expect it will also be fabulous to get him back to our usual routine at home, where he can be the wonder dog who barks at delivery trucks and rabbits in his yard.
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Great Adventures
Our first day of the new year up in the north woods was pure joy for Asher and us. The big pup got a lot of love from Mike, here shown gently accepting a treat:
We have been eating the most delicious and festive of foods prepared by Barb and Cyndie, with Mike adding his artistry in a variety of ways, including these wonderful appetizers:
When we weren’t busy eating, we were outside giving Asher a chance to explore the woods around the cabin. He was a good sport about staying in contact with us when we let him wander a little bit to follow the obvious deer tracks in the snow.
Mike dug through a closet of dog toys accumulated over the years and came up with a chew toy for Asher. Our hound gnawed on it for a little while, but then began pacing the cabin, looking for a place to bury it. I let him take it outside with us, and he immediately hunted for somewhere he could bury it in the snow.
Before we made our way back indoors, I snuck over and retrieved the “bone” and brought it back in with us.
He soon lost interest in it and moved on to other distractions, including barking at things out the window that none of the rest of us could perceive.
When we weren’t outside enjoying walks in the perfect falling snow, Barb and I ripped through a 300-piece jigsaw puzzle, while Cyndie made short work of a cribbage match with Mike. We played a couple of other games, listened to an episode of the Telepathy Tapes podcast, and watched a movie that was wrongly identified as a “comedy.”
You know, ‘at-the-lake’ activities.
My daily routine has been knocked for a loop without our usual twice-a-day horse-feeding detail, demonstrated by my confused and entirely incorrect exclamation that it was “already seven o’clock!” after glancing up at an analog clock with Roman numerals.
It was 5:00. Oops. Flipped that around a bit. That drew a few well-deserved wisecracks and laughter.
It’s a good thing I don’t drink alcohol. I’m able to remain clear-headed during these kinds of foibles, allowing me to chronicle them accurately for posterity.
We have no responsibilities to do anything different today, but I’ve heard a trip to Grand Rapids to eat at a restaurant is possible. I doubt Asher will be too thrilled with that plan, since it will involve him staying here alone, but I suspect we can reward him with a big explore later around our hosts’ other wooded property, just a short drive from their cabin.
Sometimes great adventures involve a little sacrifice.
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Happy 2026!
Happy New Year, 2026!
We made it up to the Wilkus’ cabin, 13 miles north of Grand Rapids, MN, yesterday afternoon with plenty of time to watch the calendar turn at midnight. After stacking 100 bales of hay in a gorgeous snow squall, we packed up Asher and plenty of food and winter gear for the 4-hour drive north.
May auld acquaintance be forgot.
• Farewell 2025 •
Snow Likely
It’s just weather. We’ve dealt with it before. Maybe that’s why I’m dreading it so much, in advance. We awoke to a continuing gray fog looming over the landscape, one that freezes on surfaces, making navigating on foot treacherous.
I opened up my weather app to learn we are under a Winter Storm Watch, the description of which is my worst sort to suffer:
* …Snow likely, possibly heavy at times. Total snow accumulations between 5 and 8 inches. A light glazing of ice is possible. Winds could gust as high as 40 mph.
I loathe clearing snow when the accumulation has started with rain that then freezes with snow welded into it. It’s not always frozen, though. The fast-falling snow can insulate the surface to create deep snow with a heavy, wet unfrozen layer at the bottom. Miserable to plow. Sticks to the blade. Becomes too heavy to push. Or, freezes to the surface so it can’t be removed by shovel or blade.
Asher kept an eye out for critters lurking about in the fog this morning while the horses had their noses in the feed buckets.
We are weighing the options for the best time to blanket the three horses before they get wet, but not so soon that they get sweaty, since the temperature remains above freezing in the hours before the storm kicks up.
Our plan to have the kids come hang out with us tomorrow is wrecked by the risk of nasty weather. However, lest you think I’ve become a surly old grump, there is a silver lining to acknowledge.
We were originally planning to be up at the lake place for a few days before then driving to Grand Rapids, MN, to spend New Year’s Day with our friends, Barb & Mike. It was the news of hay being delivered on the 31st that had prevented us from going to the lake.
That change means we are home to deal with the arrival of oodles of messy precipitation and high winds. If we were up north when the storm hit, the person who was scheduled to feed the horses wouldn’t have been able to get up our driveway unless they used snowshoes.
How great that it worked out that we will be home! I just need to get the snow cleared by Wednesday so the hay delivery can go smoothly. As soon as it’s all in the shed, we hope to hightail it north to Grand Rapids.
See. We don’t look grumpy at all. Although that photo captured us on Christmas night at her brother’s house. I reserve the right to change my expression while clearing snow all day on Monday.
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Like Dad
Baby, it’s cold outside. The horses had frosty whiskers this morning, to rival all the other deep-freeze overnight lows they’ve endured in their time with us.
While the air was exceedingly crisp outside, the house was toastier than Santa’s workshop with Cyndie’s Christmas Cookie-palooza, Day 1, in full swing. The double oven was working overtime to keep up with all the delectible treats Cyndie and her team of guests were moving through it. The post-bake decorating station was a spectacle this year, with frostings and sprinkles applied to the wafting sounds of a unique mix of Christmas music, courtesy of some algorithm at Apple Music.
Since I was in charge of keeping the fire fed in the fireplace and the dog’s nose pointed anywhere other than at foodstuffs, I let the whole operation pass without taking a single photo. I apologize. That was a total lapse of thinking on my part. I did get a shot of some behind-the-scenes aftermath, though.
I stopped by the kitchen to take a photo of a recent success on my part that had me thinking of my dad. A little of his mechanical ingenuity and DIY solutions were passed to me, along with his exceptional ability to tolerate unfinished projects.
For some 10 or 12 years, Cyndie has begrudgingly lived with a problematic corner cabinet that has a pair of lazy susan shelves where we store pots and pans. When it would get stuck, I assumed it was because pan handles weren’t being oriented logically, or it was being overstuffed. When it became stiff, a confident nudge from my foot would close it just fine.
When the shelves finally collapsed from the top and bottom brackets two days ago, I was forced to figure out how it was supposed to work. How the heck did they install it in the first place? Oh, there are adjustment screws. Hmm.
I discovered there was a detent in the plastic top piece that was supposed to match the springy metal brace. Imagine that.
A Philips screwdriver, ten minutes of puttering with adjustments, and we had a perfectly functioning lazy susan corner cabinet. I could have done that years ago. I suppose Cyndie wouldn’t be quite as thrilled with the results if it hadn’t been an ongoing nuisance for a decade.
The quick fix had me feeling chuffed. Figuring out how it was supposed to work reminded me of my dad’s keen skills in that realm. Realizing I had let something go for years without properly solving it dampened my pride and reminded me that I inherited both good and bad traits from that wonderful, complex, ingenious, troubled man that I both looked up to and feared in the years we were both alive.
I think Dad would have approved of the way I fixed that corner lazy susan by figuring out the way it was intended to work.
I’m going to focus on that and not on how long it took for me to get around to it.
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Feeling Festive
Last night, Cyndie brought out an overstuffed three-ring binder that had me wondering why so many extra pages couldn’t be consolidated into a more manageable collection. When she said the word “recipes,” I understood. Why would you ever reduce the number of recipes in a collection?
Why was she researching her recipes? The same reason I should probably dig up my “Dangerous Consumption Advisory.” The coming weekend will bring Cyndie’s annual Christmas cookie-baking-palooza event. There goes my diet again.
It is certainly beginning to feel festive with holiday spirit, and not just because our landscape scenery is beautifully snow-covered. Yesterday, we took in a matinee performance of “It’s A Wonderful Life” at the Phipps Center for the Arts in Hudson, with friends Ann (Herzog) and David Drewiske.
I won’t need to watch the traditional broadcast of the movie this year. I also don’t need to go see more holiday lights because Lakefront Park was aglow with a spectacular display.
It is feeling very much like Ho-Ho-Ho season is in full swing. It’s almost enough to make me ready to hear Christmas carols in repeating loops.
Almost.
Cyndie and I got an early Christmas present in the form of a call from a previous (very reliable) animal sitter who has returned to school at UWRF and is interested in some hours. We can always use a larger pool of sitters to choose from when we need coverage for times we want to be away from home.
We are usually fighting to squeeze some hours out of their packed schedules, so having one of them asking us for work opened up an opportunity to make new plans. A winter trip to the lake place might be in the offing. I think we left an unfinished jigsaw puzzle on the table last time we were up there.
Completing a jigsaw puzzle at the lake would be another version of feeling festive, after the Christmas activities have run their course. A getaway in the north woods in a cozy log home. You might recognize that festivities like that would suit me just fine.
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Cat Rehomed
After just one night of housing the friendly little stray, we found someone who wanted to claim the beautiful orange cat that showed up on our property. Cyndie was asked to help treat an ailing horse of a frequent This Old Horse volunteer and now friend, Michelle, first thing in the morning. In a whim of afterthought, upon completing the horse care, Cyndie brought up the story of this cat that showed up at our place.
When she showed Michelle pictures of the cat climbing on me, the reaction was instant. It looked just like Michelle’s beloved cat, which had died some months ago. She asked if she could come by later that morning to pick it up.
Done.
After checking with neighbors to confirm the cat was not one of theirs, we decided the affectionate feline was a possible victim of being dropped in the country to fend for itself. It was definitely not feral. A sad reality that is visited upon rural property owners with disgraceful regularity.
Asher seems to recognize that the cat has left the premises. He still checks mechanically on the scent around the hay shed, but without the manic fixation of the previous week.
I can’t deny that the purring ginger furball took a little piece of our hearts after just the briefest of encounters.
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Fabulous Show
Last night, Cyndie and I met our friends, Pam and John, for dinner and a show in Minneapolis. We picked them up at their house after feeding the horses and Asher a little earlier than usual in the afternoon. We ate downtown at the Clay Oven restaurant for Indian food. They offer a huge selection of freshly prepared options, and luckily for us, they ask what level of spiciness you prefer for each choice. Delicious eats!
It was just a short drive away to the Orpheum theater to see David Byrne’s first of two nights on his “Who Is the Sky Tour.”
The show was fabulous. The dramatic stage projection images were really powerful. Their opening song was “Heaven,” and it looked like they were performing on the moon. Much to my liking, he performed a good number of popular Talking Heads songs throughout the set.
The visual imagery was striking. Seeing the show from the balcony allowed for a great view of the floor scenes as they changed from the lunar surface to grass, then a dirty city street, a rooftop, and even a shot of his actual apartment in New York City.
The thirteen members of the ensemble backing him up were completely mobile and moved around the whole time like a precision marching band. During the song with their names, the words followed them around wherever they went.
The packed house gave him many rousing ovations, particularly after one impressive visual extravaganza. When he stepped forward to speak after the song, the roar of the crowd picked up and was sustained for a minute or two before he could say anything.
It was a wonderful night, and the fabulous spectacle put a smile on everyone we saw leaving the theater. We had purchased our tickets late, so we were seated individually across the balcony. Waiting to meet up again after the show allowed us to stand and observe most of the folks on their way out.
David Byrne’s artistry is a welcome balm for what ails the country these days. In addition to all the smiles, it seemed like everyone had a little more hop in their step, too.
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Relative Something 