Back in May, Pat was at the gas station down the block. He'd filled up and was waiting in line to pay when there were some loud "oh oh OH!"s from the waiting crowd. "What?" Pat asked. "That blue car just hit that white car" the guy in line told him. It was OUR white car - our Toyota RAV4. A few conversations quickly indicated that the driver was young, inexperienced, apologetic, uninsured, and had no driver's license. But she WAS willing to make payments to us, at least until we sent her the estimates- after which she would not answer phone calls.
Today was our day in court. We came, we registered, we sat, we waited. We explained, we were given the judgement in our favor.
Now what?
If she has any kind of job, we can pay more money to garnish her wages (We already had to pay a $75 filing fee...) If she applies for credit, this issue will come up. But, if she's on public assistance or jobless -which she probably is as she is in her early 20's, lives with her boyfriend and has 4 children - there is nothing we can do.
We have to take care of our vehicles - we can't afford to go through them very fast! We fix things. It costs money. We didn't have children younger; could barely afford to do it now. We pay auto insurance and license fees. We're sympathetic and flexible; Amber could have paid us a little at a time.
If you know Amber Dorman, she owes us nearly $900.
What a pain!
We spent the rest of the day cleaning off the front porch, hauling some furniture to the cabin, etc. A quick trip to school this morning revealed that HALF of my classroom is waxed...
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
7.27 Day 51
I am delinquent....it's been days since I posted. I've been busy on my summer vacation -- ya know? Disappointing, but there have just been more critical things to do than post!
Today was the first day of "no obligations" - at least not in the form of work. I went to school, cleaned up some of the Mess of Room 242 - and made arrangements for the floors and windows with the custodian. Went out for a lunch with my hubby, a few locals in the midst of tourists at Va Bene; then worked at home on state conference stuff; then dashed off to Sustainable Twin Ports council meeting....
Walk with Pat later..
Today was the first day of "no obligations" - at least not in the form of work. I went to school, cleaned up some of the Mess of Room 242 - and made arrangements for the floors and windows with the custodian. Went out for a lunch with my hubby, a few locals in the midst of tourists at Va Bene; then worked at home on state conference stuff; then dashed off to Sustainable Twin Ports council meeting....
Walk with Pat later..
Friday, July 24, 2009
7.24 Day 48 failure and retrying...
ok. I know I missed a few days. I actually left art club on Monday to rush home, where Pat had prepared some dinner for me to take to my Sustainable Twin Ports meeting, after which I got home and went for a walk with Pat, after which I fell echausted into bed, after which I woke up and fled for art club, which I left slightly early and flew out of two harbors back home, stuffing things into bags and boxes and lighting out as quickly as possible for the Cities - flying quickly on dry pavement and slowing to a crawl in intermittent heavy rain...
Friday, July 17, 2009
7.17 Day 41 Shiverin' on the Shore
When I first moved to Duluth, my cousin MJ gave me some great advice: never take your mittens out of the car! Boy, was she right about that! I think there were several times in the last few weeks when I had my car air conditioner - and my car heather - on in the very same day.
This week's end was rough. Temperatures have been lows in the 40's and highs in the 50's. Today the wind wasn't quite so bad, so I made it fine with winter socks, tennis shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt, sweatshirt and vest. Yesterday I got pretty darn cold; it was damp and rained most of the afternoon.
We sell a lot of sweatshirts to the tourists..
This week's end was rough. Temperatures have been lows in the 40's and highs in the 50's. Today the wind wasn't quite so bad, so I made it fine with winter socks, tennis shoes, jeans, and a t-shirt, sweatshirt and vest. Yesterday I got pretty darn cold; it was damp and rained most of the afternoon.
We sell a lot of sweatshirts to the tourists..
7.16 Day 40 omigod; over half over
OK. Back to school stuff was featured in last Sunday's paper, which I just got a chance to look at, and my entry says Day 40 -- that is really an 'omigod'.
What the heck?
Where has the time gone? I have not even been IN my dining room since summer vacation began... Do things really start to speed up that much when you get older?
I guess I have some excuses. Work, work and more work, and not being able to say "no". In June, I was still wrapping up moving two classrooms, the Homecroft one and my own, and then trying to muck out Woodland's art room after I found that would be my position for net year. Lots of time there devoted to seedling and getting the garden planted, at the expense of the garden here in town..There was an AEM meeting in Rochester, and shortly thereafter, I left with Mom for a weeks' travel to Grand Rapids for the NAEA Western Region meeting. Returned home and only had one week until Summerblue began. Still hanging out there: finishing curriculum work and school stuff, finishing a couple of portfolio reviews -- the list goes on...
I have looked forward to working on personal health, getting my house and garden together and presentable, and more - but so far, I'm just keeping my head above water.
When will I learn to say "no"??
What the heck?
Where has the time gone? I have not even been IN my dining room since summer vacation began... Do things really start to speed up that much when you get older?
I guess I have some excuses. Work, work and more work, and not being able to say "no". In June, I was still wrapping up moving two classrooms, the Homecroft one and my own, and then trying to muck out Woodland's art room after I found that would be my position for net year. Lots of time there devoted to seedling and getting the garden planted, at the expense of the garden here in town..There was an AEM meeting in Rochester, and shortly thereafter, I left with Mom for a weeks' travel to Grand Rapids for the NAEA Western Region meeting. Returned home and only had one week until Summerblue began. Still hanging out there: finishing curriculum work and school stuff, finishing a couple of portfolio reviews -- the list goes on...
I have looked forward to working on personal health, getting my house and garden together and presentable, and more - but so far, I'm just keeping my head above water.
When will I learn to say "no"??
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
7.15 Day 39 Living On The Globe
As I've driven home from Summerblue Arts this past week and a half, I have marveled again and again - in between dodging fast deer and slow tourist cars - how amazing it is to live in this place. Seeing that vast inland sea stretch out in all of it's magnificent hues is truly a calming thing.
I love the idea that I can point to the tip of Lake Superior on a globe, even devoid of the names of continents, states, and countries, and say "I live right here."
I'd be hard-pressed to live anywhere without such a global geographic feel to it; after life here on the Big Puddle.
I love the idea that I can point to the tip of Lake Superior on a globe, even devoid of the names of continents, states, and countries, and say "I live right here."
I'd be hard-pressed to live anywhere without such a global geographic feel to it; after life here on the Big Puddle.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
7.14 Day 38 Rush, or The Power Of Water
One of my favorite cool things in Duluth is rushing water.
When it rains, everything of course goes downhill. No wonder our gutters are hollowed out from years of draining!
Tonight our drought was relieved by a hefty thunderstorm. Water, water everywhere - rushing at lightspeed to Lake Superior...
Down behind the Co-op, a little creek pops above ground for about the length of a house. It's between the alley and 4th Street, and between a house and a parking lot. The walls around it are high; no doubt there is a basement just feet away. When it rains this hard, Brewery Creek grows from a trickle to a torrent. I love to stop by and see the Niagara-like effect; hear the rush of water flowing down. Sometimes, the water can't be bottled back up in the receiving culvert once it escapes into the air, and 4th Street becomes glossed over with a wide running river...
About a block away, another little creek pops above ground for the length of part of a neighbor's lot. Again, with the wet, the creek rises nearly to the lawn, spilling away. Were anything to get in it's way, it'd be swept into the culvert and out to sea...
All day today at Summerblue we were damp...the paper, the tables, our clothing... I had to have the heater on in the car on the way home...
That's Duluth - waterfalls when it rains, and the heater in July...
When it rains, everything of course goes downhill. No wonder our gutters are hollowed out from years of draining!
Tonight our drought was relieved by a hefty thunderstorm. Water, water everywhere - rushing at lightspeed to Lake Superior...
Down behind the Co-op, a little creek pops above ground for about the length of a house. It's between the alley and 4th Street, and between a house and a parking lot. The walls around it are high; no doubt there is a basement just feet away. When it rains this hard, Brewery Creek grows from a trickle to a torrent. I love to stop by and see the Niagara-like effect; hear the rush of water flowing down. Sometimes, the water can't be bottled back up in the receiving culvert once it escapes into the air, and 4th Street becomes glossed over with a wide running river...
About a block away, another little creek pops above ground for the length of part of a neighbor's lot. Again, with the wet, the creek rises nearly to the lawn, spilling away. Were anything to get in it's way, it'd be swept into the culvert and out to sea...
All day today at Summerblue we were damp...the paper, the tables, our clothing... I had to have the heater on in the car on the way home...
That's Duluth - waterfalls when it rains, and the heater in July...
Monday, July 13, 2009
7.13 Day 37 So Many Tasks, So Little Time
OK, I've blown it this time. SEVERAL days have gone by without a post. I've THOUGH the entry, but not made it; mostly due to lack of internet connectivity but also due to some general laziness on my part. I've done it in my head.
It's overwhelming what there is to get done. Perhaps I should just move away, and leave it all behind!?
It's overwhelming what there is to get done. Perhaps I should just move away, and leave it all behind!?
7.12 Day 36 The Perfect Summer Day
Warm, but not too much so. Windy, but mildly; a breeze.
The trees sway to the wind's flutes. Birds soar, dragonflies flit. The occasional lazy woodtick attempts a foothold. Potatoes push up their green crowns, spilling out onto the ground - like the cartoon hen that rises higher as the eggs pop out underneath her! Carrots shoot green ladders into the sky.
In the cabin, the faint hum of electricity underlines the forest sounds from the open doors. The radio drones the news; blending with the insect sounds from outdoors. The smell of cooking food dances with pine, lake and dirt - my favorite smells.
Our friends glide across the water in the canoe. We watch lazily from the dock. An eagle soars above; a bluejay below.
It's the perfect summer day.
The trees sway to the wind's flutes. Birds soar, dragonflies flit. The occasional lazy woodtick attempts a foothold. Potatoes push up their green crowns, spilling out onto the ground - like the cartoon hen that rises higher as the eggs pop out underneath her! Carrots shoot green ladders into the sky.
In the cabin, the faint hum of electricity underlines the forest sounds from the open doors. The radio drones the news; blending with the insect sounds from outdoors. The smell of cooking food dances with pine, lake and dirt - my favorite smells.
Our friends glide across the water in the canoe. We watch lazily from the dock. An eagle soars above; a bluejay below.
It's the perfect summer day.
7.11 Day 35 Mulberries
What's bumpy, wet, and purple all over?
Mulberries. Hundreds of thousands of mulberries. On the ground, in the grass, on the outdoor chairs, in the bellies of squirrels and birds, on my knees and fingers, on Mom's carpeting.... Mulberries.
Mom never planted the tree. It grew for years, and suddenly one year she noticed the berries. A neighbor indicated that she had a lovely mulberry tree, and the harvesting began! She lays old sheets out on the ground to collect the berries, which fall like hail when the wind blows. One year, she hung old umbrellas upside down in the branches to collect the berries. The tree bears for several weeks; blanketing everything in purple.
Last year, she sold mulberries to the Boathouse. I made wine with some. We ate, and ate and ate. Today, our knees and fingers were stained purple, indicative of our efforts under the Mulberry Tree.
Mulberries. Hundreds of thousands of mulberries. On the ground, in the grass, on the outdoor chairs, in the bellies of squirrels and birds, on my knees and fingers, on Mom's carpeting.... Mulberries.
Mom never planted the tree. It grew for years, and suddenly one year she noticed the berries. A neighbor indicated that she had a lovely mulberry tree, and the harvesting began! She lays old sheets out on the ground to collect the berries, which fall like hail when the wind blows. One year, she hung old umbrellas upside down in the branches to collect the berries. The tree bears for several weeks; blanketing everything in purple.
Last year, she sold mulberries to the Boathouse. I made wine with some. We ate, and ate and ate. Today, our knees and fingers were stained purple, indicative of our efforts under the Mulberry Tree.
7.10 Day 34 Muy Amigos
Pat and I always enjoy our trips to the little Mexican restaurant in Robbinsdale; very close to Bertha's house. It's called "El Toro", and has a sister (hermana!) restaurant in nearby Crystal, Minnesota.
We've been going there for several years, after it became apparent that FINALLY a restaurant was going to "stick" in this plagued location, off of a busy four-lane. El Toro has definitely "stuck". We often find it nearly full, with patrons that range from young families to seniors, Hispanics to African Americans and Asian Americans, and beyond. And no wonder: $5 Chicken Natchos with Beans. FIVE DOLLARS. You could easily pay that for a cup of coffee, much less a glass of wine. Or even beer!
Since we always have the same thing, our "muy amigos" have gotten to know us quite well. They are patient with my Spanish, and laugh at Pat's bastardizations of it. They tease us about driving down from Duluth to eat, and patiently hang back on late nights when we are the last customers in house. They adore Bertha, and make fresh coffee for her. They indulge her orders of "just beans"; which she loves.
I saved up all day to go eat at El Toro tonight. Ah; summer, natchos con frijoles & pollo, y mi muy amigos...
We've been going there for several years, after it became apparent that FINALLY a restaurant was going to "stick" in this plagued location, off of a busy four-lane. El Toro has definitely "stuck". We often find it nearly full, with patrons that range from young families to seniors, Hispanics to African Americans and Asian Americans, and beyond. And no wonder: $5 Chicken Natchos with Beans. FIVE DOLLARS. You could easily pay that for a cup of coffee, much less a glass of wine. Or even beer!
Since we always have the same thing, our "muy amigos" have gotten to know us quite well. They are patient with my Spanish, and laugh at Pat's bastardizations of it. They tease us about driving down from Duluth to eat, and patiently hang back on late nights when we are the last customers in house. They adore Bertha, and make fresh coffee for her. They indulge her orders of "just beans"; which she loves.
I saved up all day to go eat at El Toro tonight. Ah; summer, natchos con frijoles & pollo, y mi muy amigos...
Thursday, July 9, 2009
7.9 Day 33 On Finding Old Friends: Facebook-style
My social network site has gleaned many wonders....
Jan, an old bicycling friend from many 500-mile bike rides ago, turned up after years gone by.
Mark, my second roommate in St. Paul - 574 Simpson Apartment 2. Again, lost track; now located in Oconto, Wisconsin.
Tim, my college and post-college-work buddy; an amazing musician and creative soul; last seen singing at my wedding. Turned up alive and well in Minneapolis.
Many Hannus; the younger generation: Randy, Pat, Donovan...what a fun way to share some genealogy!
Art teacher friends, from far and away...
Kayla, long-lost college roomie; located in the Twin Cities
Mary Ann, my mother's 80-some year old friend from Florida
Tomo and Tai Chi; who of our favorite Japanese students
and more.
Just making that 'human' connection, even electronically, is great fun in such a large world!!
gotta love it.
Chilly at Summerblue today. LOVE the kids; what fun to work with such a small group!! And who can beat working outdoors, mere yards from 10% of the world's fresh water?
Jan, an old bicycling friend from many 500-mile bike rides ago, turned up after years gone by.
Mark, my second roommate in St. Paul - 574 Simpson Apartment 2. Again, lost track; now located in Oconto, Wisconsin.
Tim, my college and post-college-work buddy; an amazing musician and creative soul; last seen singing at my wedding. Turned up alive and well in Minneapolis.
Many Hannus; the younger generation: Randy, Pat, Donovan...what a fun way to share some genealogy!
Art teacher friends, from far and away...
Kayla, long-lost college roomie; located in the Twin Cities
Mary Ann, my mother's 80-some year old friend from Florida
Tomo and Tai Chi; who of our favorite Japanese students
and more.
Just making that 'human' connection, even electronically, is great fun in such a large world!!
gotta love it.
Chilly at Summerblue today. LOVE the kids; what fun to work with such a small group!! And who can beat working outdoors, mere yards from 10% of the world's fresh water?
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
7.8 Day 32 Wind, Water & Waves
I've been teaching Summerblue Arts for several years now; an Art, Music, Theatre and Dance camp - all outdoors - on the shores of Lake Superior north of Two Harbors.
It's not that I don't have enough to do already. I just really enjoy this camp, and the opportunity to be creating, outdoors, for three weeks in this setting.
Despite the fact that it's mid-July, the temp today was in the low 60's; with a nor-easter wind. It was downright chilly. You know what they say - when you live "up north", you don't take your mittens out of the car - ever.
Amazingly, while we adults absorbed the heat from the large boulders on the beach, there were kids who went SWIMMING in frigid Lake Superior....
I've vowed to go in, but not today!
It's not that I don't have enough to do already. I just really enjoy this camp, and the opportunity to be creating, outdoors, for three weeks in this setting.
Despite the fact that it's mid-July, the temp today was in the low 60's; with a nor-easter wind. It was downright chilly. You know what they say - when you live "up north", you don't take your mittens out of the car - ever.
Amazingly, while we adults absorbed the heat from the large boulders on the beach, there were kids who went SWIMMING in frigid Lake Superior....
I've vowed to go in, but not today!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
7.6 Day 31 Miles to Go; or I Should Have Been A TruckDriver
I don't mind driving. At all. Just today I drove about 600 miles; from Duluth down to the cabin (to weed and water), to Bertha's (to weed, water and pick mulberries), to an AEM meeting in Apple Valley, to Brooklyn Center to set up the hotel for the fall conference, to Malmborg's to pick up some discounted herbs, to Bertha's again to pick her up, to Maple Grove to price printers and get art club Sharpies at Sam's Club, fabric for art camp at JoannFabrics, and to eat at PotBelly Restaurant, and then finally back to Duluth.
People sometimes marvel at the amount of time I am on the road. Truly, we are home very few weekends, ever. It's either Bertha's or the cabin or a state meeting. That might be why our house looks like it does!
Even on longer trips, like Route 66 or anything cross-country, I generally get to do the majority of the driving - just because I like it. I've wondered what it would be like to drive for a living....
Add that to the retirement list; in addition to opening my own restaurant: Drive an 18-wheeler.
People sometimes marvel at the amount of time I am on the road. Truly, we are home very few weekends, ever. It's either Bertha's or the cabin or a state meeting. That might be why our house looks like it does!
Even on longer trips, like Route 66 or anything cross-country, I generally get to do the majority of the driving - just because I like it. I've wondered what it would be like to drive for a living....
Add that to the retirement list; in addition to opening my own restaurant: Drive an 18-wheeler.
Monday, July 6, 2009
7.5 Day 30 Happy Birthday, Dad
Fred Arnold Hannu passed away on May 27, 1973. I was 13. He was 51.
He was born on July 6, 1921, in Finlayson, Minnesota; son of Albert and Jenny Hannu (ne Koski).
I was always DADDY'S GIRL - - helping fix the car, doing outdoor things; fishing, being outside. He was my hero.
Mom, alone now for 36 years, found a typed note the other day, typed on our very old typewriter. It says (spaces included as they read):
Dea r Da ddy, I can not type very good , but I will write a ny how. Thank you for the dolor. I will spe nd it. I will buy a Christas present for you and Mother. YOU know w hat I might get. LOVE YOU De bbie
I can type better now, Dad. And believe me, if I could buy any present for you, I would be delighted. Mom is strong, funny and happy; though her body is sore from arthritis and fibro mylagia; her eyes require some surgery, and she has a pacemaker. She has been a heck of a trooper through it all.
I wish I couldv'e asked you questions about the war. About being wounded in northern Africa. About coming home and marrying Mom. About the Pine Lake Dance Hall and Moms little sailor suit! About your childhood and what you remembered. About your brothers, Grandpa and Grandma. About Barbie and I. And what you loved in our Mom.
Knowing that you were a 'gadget guy' and a great fan of Popular Science, I imagine that you would marvel at cell phones. The Internet. Outer space. Modern medicine. Nutrinos. Computers. Digital technology. I remember how you always wanted to build a plane, and fly to Maine - which held some interest and mystique for you. I remember how the electronics store in Robbinsdale used to call you up to try to find a particular part, when they didn't have one and you probably did.
I remember how you quit deer hunting, long before there were restrictions placed on the kill, because you feared that if we kept hunting such numbers the deer would die out.
I remember how you taught Mom to mix oil and gas for the lawn mower, so that she'd know how to use it. That was after your second heart attack and before your death.
I remember when we brought Tigger to North Memorial Hospital, so you could see him from your window in the heart unit. I remember that I wasn't allowed to go in to see you, because I was too young.
I remember how your flannel jacket smelled. The stubble of your beard. The smell of the Velvet pipe tobacco. Carrying down coffee to you in your basement ham radio chair. Cleaning your ears with a bobby pin - I still can't believe you let me! - while you watched TV.
I remember you tucking me in and saying my prayers at night.
I remember not crying at the funeral, and crying like a dripping faucet ever since.
Happy Birthday Dad. Miss you, still. LOVE YOU De bbie.
He was born on July 6, 1921, in Finlayson, Minnesota; son of Albert and Jenny Hannu (ne Koski).
I was always DADDY'S GIRL - - helping fix the car, doing outdoor things; fishing, being outside. He was my hero.
Mom, alone now for 36 years, found a typed note the other day, typed on our very old typewriter. It says (spaces included as they read):
Dea r Da ddy, I can not type very good , but I will write a ny how. Thank you for the dolor. I will spe nd it. I will buy a Christas present for you and Mother. YOU know w hat I might get. LOVE YOU De bbie
I can type better now, Dad. And believe me, if I could buy any present for you, I would be delighted. Mom is strong, funny and happy; though her body is sore from arthritis and fibro mylagia; her eyes require some surgery, and she has a pacemaker. She has been a heck of a trooper through it all.
I wish I couldv'e asked you questions about the war. About being wounded in northern Africa. About coming home and marrying Mom. About the Pine Lake Dance Hall and Moms little sailor suit! About your childhood and what you remembered. About your brothers, Grandpa and Grandma. About Barbie and I. And what you loved in our Mom.
Knowing that you were a 'gadget guy' and a great fan of Popular Science, I imagine that you would marvel at cell phones. The Internet. Outer space. Modern medicine. Nutrinos. Computers. Digital technology. I remember how you always wanted to build a plane, and fly to Maine - which held some interest and mystique for you. I remember how the electronics store in Robbinsdale used to call you up to try to find a particular part, when they didn't have one and you probably did.
I remember how you quit deer hunting, long before there were restrictions placed on the kill, because you feared that if we kept hunting such numbers the deer would die out.
I remember how you taught Mom to mix oil and gas for the lawn mower, so that she'd know how to use it. That was after your second heart attack and before your death.
I remember when we brought Tigger to North Memorial Hospital, so you could see him from your window in the heart unit. I remember that I wasn't allowed to go in to see you, because I was too young.
I remember how your flannel jacket smelled. The stubble of your beard. The smell of the Velvet pipe tobacco. Carrying down coffee to you in your basement ham radio chair. Cleaning your ears with a bobby pin - I still can't believe you let me! - while you watched TV.
I remember you tucking me in and saying my prayers at night.
I remember not crying at the funeral, and crying like a dripping faucet ever since.
Happy Birthday Dad. Miss you, still. LOVE YOU De bbie.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
7.5 Day 29 Quintessential Summer
Gotta love it - those days when you feel like you're an actor in a movie... The scene: a Northern Minnesota lake cabin. The temperature? Perfect. Sunny, with a little breeze. The ambiance? Peaceful as can be. Greens, blues, soaring birds, sunning turtles. Plants that you can almost hear grow.
Pat and I set out in Dad's old fiberglass boat, with Pat's scavenged motor, en route to our neighbor's house for a little 4th of July neighborhood cheer. Me: clad in swintop, propped in the front of the boat, feeling like a beauty queen. All I missed was the lipstick. Pat: ever suave, amazingly white T-shirt for the Northwoods, grinning, driving the boat effortlessly. The hum of the engine, the prow cutting through the amber water, the gleam of a few other craft across the way.
Ah, summer.
Pat and I set out in Dad's old fiberglass boat, with Pat's scavenged motor, en route to our neighbor's house for a little 4th of July neighborhood cheer. Me: clad in swintop, propped in the front of the boat, feeling like a beauty queen. All I missed was the lipstick. Pat: ever suave, amazingly white T-shirt for the Northwoods, grinning, driving the boat effortlessly. The hum of the engine, the prow cutting through the amber water, the gleam of a few other craft across the way.
Ah, summer.
7.4 Day 28 Freedom and Blowing Things Up
It seems an odd tribute to our democracy, I guess. Let's blow shit up!! "Rockets' red glare", yadda yadda...
Last night, at our peaceful cabin in the woods, I could have closed my eyes and felt more like I was in Afghanistan than Northern Minnesota. Pow! Blam! Fitzzzsss!
It wasn't really until after my experiences in Mexico and Nicaragua that I really considered some of what Americans take for granted. Things like "SuperAmerica" gas stations. Igniting rockets to celebrate freedom. Imagine what we'd have thought during the Cold War if the Soviets had "SuperUSSR" gas stations? Or blew up things in celebration? Maybe they do - I dunno.
I get amused by "freedom" - hey, you know what? That's the name of a gas station, too. Is there something patriotic about gas stations? Gas consumption, maybe? But anyone can toss that word around to mean anything. It truly needs some definition.
Take the guy selling bumper stickers at the Finlayson Fourth of July flea market. His wares were flush with redneck, testosterone-infused, illogical slogans; most of which I don't care to repeat. Wow. That's Freedom, for ya. Makes me want to go blow shit up.
Last night, at our peaceful cabin in the woods, I could have closed my eyes and felt more like I was in Afghanistan than Northern Minnesota. Pow! Blam! Fitzzzsss!
It wasn't really until after my experiences in Mexico and Nicaragua that I really considered some of what Americans take for granted. Things like "SuperAmerica" gas stations. Igniting rockets to celebrate freedom. Imagine what we'd have thought during the Cold War if the Soviets had "SuperUSSR" gas stations? Or blew up things in celebration? Maybe they do - I dunno.
I get amused by "freedom" - hey, you know what? That's the name of a gas station, too. Is there something patriotic about gas stations? Gas consumption, maybe? But anyone can toss that word around to mean anything. It truly needs some definition.
Take the guy selling bumper stickers at the Finlayson Fourth of July flea market. His wares were flush with redneck, testosterone-infused, illogical slogans; most of which I don't care to repeat. Wow. That's Freedom, for ya. Makes me want to go blow shit up.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
7.3 Day 27 What's More Dangerous?
One neighbor has a concern that our Urban Woodchucks might be dangerous. He says that once, when dismantling a woodpile, he was charged by one. Our local animal trapper says they are peaceful and shy. Actions speak louder than words - I guess I've only see them as peaceful and shy. And despite fears that their underground network might damage our property, it appears that its unlikely.
I wish I felt as comfortable with Alaska Governor Sarah Palin. She announced today that she is resigning as Governor, and gave some rather cryptic reasons why. It would seem probable that she not end up as a presidential candidate; especially after 'quitting' the governorship. I'm quite sure that she has obtained a multimillion dollar offer from - oh , say, FOX TV; to have her own talk show or "news" show. There, she can be a vocal cheerleader for the uber right.
What's more dangerous? Sarah Palin or Urban Woodchucks? What's the old saying: "you can put lipstick on a woodchuck, but it's still a woodchuck.."
As FOX says: "We report, YOU decide!"
I wish I felt as comfortable with Alaska Governor Sarah Palin. She announced today that she is resigning as Governor, and gave some rather cryptic reasons why. It would seem probable that she not end up as a presidential candidate; especially after 'quitting' the governorship. I'm quite sure that she has obtained a multimillion dollar offer from - oh , say, FOX TV; to have her own talk show or "news" show. There, she can be a vocal cheerleader for the uber right.
What's more dangerous? Sarah Palin or Urban Woodchucks? What's the old saying: "you can put lipstick on a woodchuck, but it's still a woodchuck.."
As FOX says: "We report, YOU decide!"
Thursday, July 2, 2009
7.2 Day 27 Small Claims, Big Pain
A month or so ago, Pat was standing in line at the gas station down the block. The folks in line ahead of him were going "whoa, whoa whoa! Someone just hit that white car!" Pat looked outside, and it was HIS white car (our '98 RAV4) that had been hit - by a young woman backing out of a parking spot. She was very apologetic; and it turned out that she had neither car insurance nor a driver's license.
Pat recognized her name; turns out her grandmother used to clean for them when Pat was younger. The young woman suggested that perhaps she could pay a little bit at a time, and we mailed her some estimates. Subsequent phone calls: nothing. We found out that she has four children, and lives with her fiance'.
Today we finally wrapped up the business of filing in small claims court. Eventually, if this person tries to get a credit card, has a job, or tries to apply for a loan, it will catch up with her. In the meantime we eat the cost of the repair and the filing fee, and in reality - we may never get it back. If the woman doesn't work, receives public assistance or food stamps - there's not a thing that we can do. But if, within 10 years, she works or tries to get a loan, it can be garnished.
What a pain! I feel badly for the young woman, but at the same time, we have to take good care of our cars; as we need our Toyotas to last, basically, forever!
An vell.
School this AM - the carpenters have my SMARTBOARD installed and made my shelves for paper storage. Spent the afternoon on portfolio reviews and planting outside; including a bit of woodchuck observation...
Pat recognized her name; turns out her grandmother used to clean for them when Pat was younger. The young woman suggested that perhaps she could pay a little bit at a time, and we mailed her some estimates. Subsequent phone calls: nothing. We found out that she has four children, and lives with her fiance'.
Today we finally wrapped up the business of filing in small claims court. Eventually, if this person tries to get a credit card, has a job, or tries to apply for a loan, it will catch up with her. In the meantime we eat the cost of the repair and the filing fee, and in reality - we may never get it back. If the woman doesn't work, receives public assistance or food stamps - there's not a thing that we can do. But if, within 10 years, she works or tries to get a loan, it can be garnished.
What a pain! I feel badly for the young woman, but at the same time, we have to take good care of our cars; as we need our Toyotas to last, basically, forever!
An vell.
School this AM - the carpenters have my SMARTBOARD installed and made my shelves for paper storage. Spent the afternoon on portfolio reviews and planting outside; including a bit of woodchuck observation...
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
7.1 Day 26 A Dead Lightening Bug on the Windshield, or Hope and Futility
Back in Minnesota, more insects seemed to be attracted to my windshield than in Michigan, Illinois, or Wisconsin. Maybe they favor the home-state cars? Just as it got thoroughly dark, I noted a large wet splat. It slid like an exclamation point down the windshield, and at the bottom, a speckley glow of yellow. A lightening bug! A KAMIKAZE lightening bug!
Those of you who know me well realize that I have an odd attraction to tragedy. A consuming concern for roadkill animals, for example. A penchant for predicting "the worst outcome" - whether it comes true or not (it usually doesn't). A dwelling on morbidity. Perhaps this comes from losing a parent at such a young age - if I am able to anticipate tragedy, it won't hurt so badly if it happens.
It so happened today that in the otherwise-idyllic roads of Door County, I ran over a chipmunk. Here's my usual brain process: it was an innocent creature, doing what it is supposed to do, minding it's own chipmunk business - and here come I - wiping out it's chipmunk life with one fell swoop. What of it's family? It's babies? It's mouthful of tender seeds? Then my tears roll out. Crazy, I know - but it's me.
Hope and futility. Futility and hope. I persist in reordering them.
R.I.P.; little ones.
Those of you who know me well realize that I have an odd attraction to tragedy. A consuming concern for roadkill animals, for example. A penchant for predicting "the worst outcome" - whether it comes true or not (it usually doesn't). A dwelling on morbidity. Perhaps this comes from losing a parent at such a young age - if I am able to anticipate tragedy, it won't hurt so badly if it happens.
It so happened today that in the otherwise-idyllic roads of Door County, I ran over a chipmunk. Here's my usual brain process: it was an innocent creature, doing what it is supposed to do, minding it's own chipmunk business - and here come I - wiping out it's chipmunk life with one fell swoop. What of it's family? It's babies? It's mouthful of tender seeds? Then my tears roll out. Crazy, I know - but it's me.
Hope and futility. Futility and hope. I persist in reordering them.
R.I.P.; little ones.
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