Dr. Dog's House

3/12/2009 - A real Crackberry

Did it really have to happen this way? A while ago, you learned that I had splurged for a new phone. A Blackberry Pearl, no less. So it's been riding around in its case in my pants pocket to various events recently. Like a thousand or so high school basketball games. Umm, I guess I really have to be more careful when sitting down. At one gym, I sit on one end of the stage, lifting myself up by my hands and turning around to a sitting position. (Should someone my age really be doing that?) Evidently I wasn't as careful for my pricy new possession as I should have been. When I got home, I took it out to admire it ... and this is what I saw ... The phone still works normally. It just looks a little cracked. I'm sure you have heard of all those people addicted to their Blackberries, madly texting messages all day long. That's why they call them Crackberries. Well, I think I have the genuine article. **** Recently I promised some new photos of the kitties. I've been taking them, just not posting them (or much of anything else). Well, what can I say? The weeks have been long and demanding for me, and I'm pretty worn out over weekends. My wife and I typically sit on the couch on weekend afternoons, after doing something like lunch or shopping, and it's time to relax. Really relax. And we do. We doze off together. In winter, when the living room is a little cold, we have a quilt over our legs. She leans on my shoulder, and soon she is dozing. On this day, Charlie came around and invited herself up into my lap. Pretty soon she was taking a nap, too. So I had two sleepy females next to me ... You know that Charlie is very special to me. Over the last few months, Max and I have been getting to know each other better, too. When my wife goes to bed, Max is in the hallway ahead of me, meowing, and goes into a spare bedroom. I follow him, and we play Pet the Kitty. Max is all happy and purring loudly ... but he just can't sit still. We are sitting on the bed, where he usually sleeps, as I pet him, but soon he hops onto the floor and then up into the window. I get up to pet him in the window, he enjoys it, but then he hops on the floor and back on the bed. And then it's time for another round of Pet the Kitty. Sooner or later Max decides it's time for a wash, and I depart around then. Max's favorite place seems to be sitting in windows, looking outside. Day or night, he likes his windows ... Charlie likes to visit me late at night, often settling in my lap as I pet her. Recently, though, I noticed that pens were disappearing from my desk. Was I absentmindedly pocketing them? Was my wife taking them? One night, the real culprit struck ... and my camera was in reach ... She pulled the pen down to the chair, grabbed it in the middle, hopped down to the floor and walked out the door with it. Carried it down the hall. At other times we have come across pencils with a host of tiny little toothmarks on them. Think we know who is doing that. Sometimes when Charlie is visiting me late at night on the computer, Max enters the room. On this night, Charlie went behind the monitor--and Max followed, creating this coming-and-going shot ... and this one, after Charlie turned around and walked back ... Back in early February, we saw a catnip mouse at the store. It was a larger and more realistic-looking mouse than usual, and we said what the heck. The cats will enjoy it. That's what we thought. Understand one thing: We're not cats. We let Charlie get the first chance at it. She played with it for a while ... Then Max came around. Whatcha got now, Charlie? ... After a while, Charlie went back to her other mouse. It seemed more interesting ... And how about you, Max? Aren't you interested in the new mouse, either? ... Apparently not. Must be time for another nap. **** Basketball season rolls on. On of my teams, the one that lost 10 straight games during the season and finished 5-15 after winning its final two regular season games, won both its district games and will be going to Houghton for the regionals next Monday. They beat a 16-4 squad last night. Hey, playoffs: You never know. So that's where I'll be next Monday night. Let's hope the weather behaves. It was -10F this morning. But they're predicting highs in the 40s this weekend. I'm ready for it.

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3/8/2009 - Left in the dark

3/2/2009 - Like a bicycle?

2/15/2009 - A bad blogger

1/15/2009 - Serious cold from "the last frontier"

I don't know how snoopy/curious you are about such things, but have you ever looked into the "cold case" at your local grocery store? That's the big freezer where they store things like frozen veggies, frozen pizzas and ice cream, keeping them nice and cold before you put them in your shopping cart. At our local store, there's a digital thermometer inside. At times I look. It usually reads something like -10 F. Tuesday morning, when I looked at our thermometer, it read -7F. Yes, it's January, and another cold front has moved into our area. It was +7 when I went to bed Monday night, but the front was just moving in. On Tuesday night, I was at another game. It was -6 when I went to the game. On the trip home, about 8:30 p.m., the car's thermometer got down to -21F. We got to -26 just before midnight. It was up to -15 when I got up Wednesday morning. But our cold is peanuts compared to other places. How would you like to be in Grand Forks, N.D.? They were in the -30s Tuesday morning. One of my blog friends lives there. They "warmed up" to -16 that afternoon. Sounds balmy. Right now (I just checked), it's -23F. But if you want balmy, there's only one place you can go: Alaska. That's where one of my friends lives, the one I refer to as B. She and her husband are a poly couple who live in the Fairbanks area. Yes, Fairbanks, in the middle of the Alaskan interior. Over the last few weeks, it got rather nippy up there. Always an interesting topic, so I have been asking B what it's like to be in Alaska when it gets really, really, really, really cold. Both B and her husband, I should explain, are originally from Ohio and first came to Alaska courtesy of the U.S. Air Force, which has a few bases there. After he retired, they moved back to Alaska. Around Christmas, while their kids were visiting, the cold started getting real. "We continued to have mild temps until later this afternoon," she wrote at the time, "when the temps started dropping. We are down to about 12 below and are expected to hit 35 to 40 below by morning." That was the day after they went to a nearby hot spring to take their visitors for a nice outdoor soak. "It is quite the novelty when entertaining visitors in winter." On Dec. 30, they woke up to -45. "Looks like we may see -50 tonight and another few days of really cold temps. By Tuesday, it should be a balmy low of -28 and high of -18. At least these are manageable temps. The cars hate the cold temps lower than -30's." When they visited friends on New Year's Eve, "The temp was -50 degrees, so we kept the car plugged in at our friends' and started it to let run for about 15 minutes every couple of hours. When we left, shortly after midnight, the tires had gone square on the bottom so we bounced slowly down the road until the rubber softened a bit and rounded out. It is a very weird feeling! That generally doesn't happen until the temps hit -40 or so. "We are still hovering around -38, but that is much easier on the cars than the -50 stuff. It is advised that we plug in the cars when the temps get below 20 degrees, as it helps with the air pollution if the engines are a tad bit warmer when starting. It is imperative once the temps dip below -25 or so unless engines are started and let to run every couple of hours throughout the day. " Many people in Alaska get timers they switch on a few hours before they need to get going, and they have automatic starters so they can start cars from inside a house or office. B works in Fairbanks, about a 20-mile drive from her home. "In this kind of weather it is horrid. I will have to leave about 1/2 hour earlier than usual, as the drive will be at about 20 miles an hour! Visibility goes down to about nil at times like this, which makes it very slow going. You can't really see cars in front of you." That is because of a phenomenon known as ice fog. Around that time, The Weather Channel showed a picture of a sign in Fairbanks that showed a temperature of -62. No, said B. They had visited a friend that night for dinner and had seen the sign themselves--the friend called the weather station and learned it was just -39. "When we headed home, it showed the same temp of -62F and it was still -39F at the airport. When we got home, our temp was -52F"--where they live, their temperature is usually 10 to 15 degrees colder than Fairbanks. This photo, from the Fairbanks newspaper's website, shows some local officers documenting the occasion ... She told me about January 1989, when the all-time coldest reading for Fairbanks was set: -69. "Yes, we were here then, too. Most of the month was bitter cold, and the schools finally closed as parents were keeping their kids home. In a crazy sort of way, everyone hopes we see a new record low so we can tell about that too!" I asked her about the ice fog. "The ice fog is caused by an inversion phenomena taking place when the cold, cold air holds all the motor exhaust close to the earth and won't let it dissipate into the atmosphere. You really start to notice it around -30 or so. No sign of it when it is even 5-10 degrees warmer. "The ice fog is actually vapor and not liquid, so it does not freeze on the windshield. It can leave a bit of a filmlike substance on the windshield. As it doesn't freeze on the windshield, you don't have to worry about stopping and scraping. It is just dangerous, as when it is really bad it is difficult to see the taillights of the car in front, which makes it easy to run up onto someone." You see ice fog in the -62F photo above. Here is another look, from a photo shown on The Weather Channel ... See what she means? Another problem she mentioned, one I have noticed when it is below zero here, is ice forming on the inside windows of the car from people breathing. The defroster can take care of the windshield, but the side windows can get frosted up pretty quickly. Where I live, I don't plug in my car. Some people in the U.P. have engine heaters--I don't. It doesn't get that cold that often, and I only live a short distance from my office--I can always walk. Up in Alaska, though, it's different. "Any place of business is going to have plug-ins for employees," B wrote. "Stores do not have them for customers, but sometimes you can find them and use them if not filled up. My office has a parking lot full of them, which is probably why I have to pay $220 a year for a parking decal." ... B said her car is equipped with "an engine block heater, an oil pan heater, a transmission heater, a battery blanket and a trickle charger. All those are plugged into a junction box which has a heavy duty extension cord on it that sticks out the front end of the car" ... "I have a license plate surround that has space to wrap an extension cord around it so I have it handy each morning when I need it. It keeps everything neat and tidy and I know exactly where the cord is when I need it." It also has a light--so if the outlet isn't working, she will know right away ... What does the well-dressed Alaskan wear when it's so cold? "To head out in the morning, I wear a polar fleece jacket with a parka over it and I wrap a very, very long scarf around my neck a few times to keep warm. I wear a pair of polar fleece gloves inside a pair of leather gloves, and I wear snow boots made in Canada. I have a heavier pair of boots I carry in my car in the event I would have to walk for any great distance. Let's hope that never happens." A few days ago, she reported "We were back down to -46F this morning and the fog was in full bloom. It was all I could do to not call in sick. I was sick all right ... sick of the ice fog and traveling in this weather!!" I asked her about one more aspect of life in Alaska: the northern lights. She replied: "There is never a time when I feel more humble or insignificant as when I am standing in my yard or on the road and watching the northern lights as they swirl across the sky. They are magnificent, breath-taking and always a pleasure to happen upon without notice ... "It is as if the heavens come alive. Green is the most common color, but often times they are filled with blue, pink and red. It is a magnificent display, to say the least. Sometimes, they appear as a still streak or two in the sky and other times they are dancing back and forth. We see them most often when we are driving [home from Fairbanks]. There are no street lights along the highway except at the overpasses, which makes viewing a delight. "Some people do not realize that the northern lights are above the earth all the time. It is only when the conditions are right that they can be seen. The intensity of them has something to do with sunspot activity. The best time of the year to see them is around the equinoxes, or equinoces, if you prefer. "We have a natural hot spring, which is located about 60 miles outside of Fairbanks. The Japanese come over in droves during the winter months with the intention of procreating under the northern lights. There is some sort of blessing that accompanies this ritual." *** Update: As I get ready to post this, it's -9 here. In Fairbanks, the cold wave is over: The temperature stands at +34F. You know, it's been some time since we've had +34 here.

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1/6/2009 - True colors

I musta been a good guy last year, after all. My birthday went practically unnoticed by those around me (though several of my efx2 and Vox friends remembered! Thank you!). And my wife and I had agreed among ourselves not to exchange Christmas presents this year. But a mysterious box arrived at my house on the second day of 2009. I had not ordered it. Neither had my wife. Or anyone else in the family. It's not that I didn't know something was coming and that it had to do with the Detroit Red Wings hockey team. I had gotten a hint ... but just a hint ... from the sender. Now it had arrived. I got the scissors, opened the box, got past some airbags and a card and finally arrived at something black. And red. Within moments, it was out of the box--and on my body. A black jacket with red sleeves and the Red Wings logo proudly in front and back. If you couldn't recognize it, "Red Wings" was spelled out under the logo on the back. So cool. Such a nice gift. But would it fit? Only one way to find out. I picked it up, stuck an arm in the right sleeve, stuck an arm in the other sleeve, realized to my satisfaction that I was not trying to put it on upside down or inside out. I pulled it over my chest and snapped up the snaps. It fit just right. I read the card. It was very moving. The kind of words you don't hear from everyone. I don't, anyway. Of course, I had to get some pictures of my new prize. My wife took these shots behind the house. How cool is that? It came from a close friend of mine; we became friends about three years ago via our blogs. Like me, she is a devoted Detroit Red Wings fan. Unlike me, she lives in California. Unlike me, she doesn't have cable and can't watch any hockey games at home. No satellite dish, either. That's the way it is for her. So about two years ago the lightbulb flashed on over my head: Why don't I record some of the Red Wings games I watch at home? I have a DVD recorder and it works well. I record the games, burn them onto DVDs and mail them to her from time to time. So ever since then, I have. Along the way, we became close friends. Though I think we were close friends already. I have been a Red Wings fan since about 1978. That's the year we moved to the U.P. from Milwaukee and I got to see hockey regularly on TV for the very first time. So I tried to watch them every time they were on--even through the infamously bad "40-point season." They reached the conference finals the next year, and they have been playing high quality hockey ever since (with an occasional breakdown early in the playoffs). When the Wings won the Stanley Cup last spring, I sent along a couple other goodies: a souvenir magazine from Sports Illustrated, a Stanley Cup T-shirt I spotted at K-Mart and a baseball cap with the Red Wings' red and white logo on it. Earlier, I sent her a DVD set of great/memorable Red Wings games from the lats 10 years or so--they have won three Stanley Cups in that time and been near the top nearly every year. I wrote her. telling her how cool the jacket is and how overwhelmed I am. She wrote back, saying no thanks are needed: It's for all the stuff I have done for her over the last couple years. Maybe so, but I'm amazed at my good luck anyway. The cool new jacket has to stay on the coat rack inside for a while--midwinter in the U.P. is a little too cool for it. (We had -20F this morning). But in a month or two, when the regular season nears its end and the playoffs start, it will be warmer, and I can wear my true colors.

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12/31/2008 - Auld Lang Syne

12/28/2008 - The unplanned holiday

Well, for not having a plan, our ad-libbed holiday observance went pretty well. For one thing, we can thank the Midwest's stormy weather for keeping my older son, Phil, around for one extra day. His original plan was to leave us Friday morning and drive back to Detroit via Chicago--he likes the improv comedy clubs in Chi-Town and was going to stay there that night. But though he doesn't follow the weather closely, he was still aware of the big storms bearing down on the Second City. Forecasts called for much warmer than normal temperatures, bringing in very heavy rain and a good chance of flooding. That was enough to change his itinerary. As he put it, "Chicago traffic is bad enough the way it is." So he spent much of his Friday playing games at his brother's apartment. In the evening, he, my wife and I went out for a pizza. Then he went out to meet some classmates at a local restaurant--just four, I guess. It was arranged through Facebook. He got back home, we watched some stuff for a little while, and then he went up to bed. He left for home Saturday at about 6 a.m.--had something going down in Detroit that night involving the new Jim Carrey movie. He made it home OK--had to deal with rain and a lot of fog along the way, but he didn't have any trouble with it. Back here, I had to do some work on the paper Saturday. Then, some shopping. Some work assignments. Chipping ice off the back porch, in preparation for the freezing rain forecast that night, just before a snowstorm. The freezing rain never developed, and the heaviest snow went east of us. It just got windy. As for Christmas Day itself: We all got up late. Dave came over late in the morning, and we gathered in the living room to watch some stuff on TV. We had decided to do a giftless Christmas, but I had some "late birthday gifts" for the two boys. After lunch, we drove down to see my mom at the nursing home. As luck would have it, she was having a good day, and her face positively lit up when she saw Phil again for the first time in a year. (She sees the rest of us fairly often, and I'm there to visit nearly every week.) Very happy. We visited for the better part of two hours and drove back home. That night, we watched "Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull" together. Another adventure awaits my wife and I on Monday. We plan to drive down to visit S and her husband. Just a short visit--I'm taking them out to dinner, and then we're going to enjoy the pool at our motel. The visit has been tentative for a while due to the very iffy weather and her husband's back problems--he hurt something while shoveling snow a few weeks ago and has been out of work with back pain. S's letter on Saturday says he is doing better. Still, I phoned her tonight to make sure. We're also keeping an eye on the forecast--more snow is forecast for Tuesday, the day we would be driving back north. Doesn't seem too bad right now. The weather has been ugly all month, anyway. I tried to do some writing on the computer last night after my wife went to bed. But Charlie had other priorities. You should know the story by now. She invited herself into my lap to get petted and cuddled. Purr, purr, purr. This time, I was able to take a couple pictures--with one hand!--of the big, happy kitty. And here you are ... After a while, my leg started falling asleep. I started fidgeting, and she hopped off ... About five minutes later, I was sitting quietly again, and Charlie came back. This time, she faced the other way ... One more thing about the cats: They seemed a little confused when the bedroom was closed during Phil's visit. That is usually Max's domain--he liked to lie down on the bed and look out the window--and they aren't used to closed doors. So at night, Charlie and Max would camp out in front of that door for a while--since it is next to the computer room, I could keep an eye on things. Then they chase each other downstairs. Their usual exercise just before bed.

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12/24/2008 - In search of a plan

12/2/2008 - Seasonal transition

11/24/2008 - Guess where I'm going?

All this fall, I have been wondering whether I would have a normal Thanksgiving this year. On Saturday, I learned the answer. The answer is yes. Yes, I will have a normal Thanksgiving--normal for me for the last four years, at least. Each of them has been spent down to Detroit, where I went to cover state high school football championship games, played Friday morning. For the fifth straight year, I will be doing that again. On Saturday, our team won its semifinal game 8-6. It wasn't a big win by any means, but a win's a win, and our team will make the 500-mile trip to the state title game again. Alas, so will I. I have resigned myself to my fate for some time, realizing there was absolutely nothing I could do about it one way or the other. Would it happen again? I won't have to go down there five straight years, would I? What a dumb question: Of course I would. So on Sunday I worked on the article about the semifinal game. Then I start looking at maps, reminding myself where things are located relative to each other, what exits to take off the interstate, how to get from one place to the other and how to get back. I also have to make motel reservations. Mind you, I don't mind going to Detroit when I can do it on my own terms. Like last summer, when all three of us visited my older son for a few days. But now the weather isn't so good. It's colder, and maybe there will be snow (though this week's forecast sounds pretty good). My wife made the trip with me last year, but she will stay home this time--her training for her seasonal call center job starts Wednesday. But my younger son still wants to come along. So you don't have to worry about me not being well chaperoned throughout my trip. The chances of me slipping the leash and getting out somewhere for some fun are less than zero. Let me say it plainly. It. Is. Not. Fun. I. Don't. Want. To go. Certainly not for the fifth straight year. Especially this year. I wanted to spend part of Thanksgiving with my mom, since she is continuing to fade away. Every single bloody Thanksgiving since she went into the nursing home, I wanted to spend part of Thanksgiving with her. It hasn't happened, and it won't happen this year. God just doesn't want it to happen, I guess. Here is a picture from Thanksgiving dinner at my mom's house back in 2001. Nothing elaborate, but we had venison and gravy, brown-and-serve rolls, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, apple pie (somewhat mashed) and (not pictured) pumpkin pie. We ate well ... (Of course, such a Thanksgiving isn't possible any more, because my mom has been in the nursing home since late 2005. Sigh.) Another thing about driving to Detroit for a title game is that I don't control the clock. We leave for the 11-hour trip south Wednesday morning and arrive in the Detroit area long after sundown. On Thursday, it's Thanksgiving: Everything in the States is closed. Everything in Canada is open, and I'm hoping we can cross over to Windsor (Ontario) for a little shopping and a nice dinner. That means I have to find my birth certificate. We'll spend all of Thanksgiving with my older son. On Friday morning, my younger son and I get up really early so we can get on the freeway for Ford Field and the football game, which kicks off at 9 a.m. Central Time. This year, our team is a massive underdog, and I'm realistic about such things. After the game, I get back on the interstate and can spend the next 11 hours thinking about what I'm going to say in my article as I drive home. We'll get home about midnight. I've got to bust my ass home right away so I have time to write about it Saturday and Sunday. The paper gets put together Monday morning, and all my work has to be done by then. I can only imagine how my neck and lower back will feel once it's all over. Maybe this year I finally call that massage therapist after it's all over. But stop the presses: Now it appears I may have another option: I have learned (from the coach) that I may be able to ride south with the team in their bus--and it's not a school bus, either. Right now, I am weighing the pluses and minuses. Among the pluses: Since my younger son stays home, he can keep my wife company on Thanksgiving. I don't have to drive for some 20+ hours, with all the wear and tear on the car (and the driver). In a real rarity, I would go somewhere and not have to do 100% of the driving. I could get used to that. Don't have to book a motel room. Someone else is in charge and gets to make all the decisions. Minuses: I'm not in charge and don't get to make the decisions. No chance of a side trip to Canada--so keep my loonies at home. Probably won't see my older son. Disappointing for my younger son--he can't come along for once. Waiting around during several football practices. And I don't get paid the mileage money--and though we only get 30 cents per mile, it's still works out to a nice profit on a 1,100-mile round trip if your car gets 35 mpg. So now that I have been thinking about it, I am leaning quite a lot towards riding the bus. Even though I found the birth certificate. That's OK--my wife and I have been talking about applying for the new passport cards, so we can visit Canada next summer. I have another adventure to tell you about, but I'll post that in a day or two (assuming our motel has wireless internet).

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11/13/2008 - One down, three to go

Hello, hello to one and all. This is my crazy-go-nuts week in terms of fall playoff coverage. The weather is going downhill, and I've got a lot of long drives this week. One down, three to go. So I really didn't need to read this in the weather news this morning: ...SIGNIFICANT LAKE EFFECT SNOW ACCUMULATIONS POSSIBLE LATE FRIDAY NIGHT INTO SATURDAY EVENING FOR WEST AND NORTH CENTRAL UPPER MICHIGAN... Now it just so happens that I will be driving up to Marquette on Friday afternoon and Saturday afternoon this week, to cover playoff football games. The games themselves will be played inside the Superior Dome, which you saw photos of recently, and it's all nice and dry and warm inside. But to get there, you have to drive two hours through whatever weather the U.P. is enjoying at the time. To get home again, you have to drive two hours back through whatever. If you don't know. Marquette is in the lake effect snow belt, on the south shore of Lake Superior--they can get vast quantities of snow. So it's shaping up as one of those weekends. On Tuesday, I drove to the volleyball regional tournament. That is an 80-mile drive each way; it's a lot closer to Lake Michigan than to Lake Superior. Our team won (just barely, in five games) and advances to the regional championship match tonight. My wife is coming along to keep me company (and, oh yes, to pick up some low-cost kitty food in Iron Mountain), and we'll stop by to see my mom, too. It's fun to have someone along--nice to have company. Last weekend, both the football teams played at home in their district championship games. One team played Friday night: It was about 40 degrees F and dry until a few raindrops fell in the final minutes. By that time they had won, so they were happy. During the night, the rain continued, and it changed over to wet snow Saturday morning. The other team's game was at home, starting at 12:30 p.m. Remember the recent post about the game played in the rain and fog? This one had the same two teams at the same field, only it was played in daylight. The field had taken a good soaking overnight, but the snowflakes were real pretty during the first half. and the field was in fairly good shape ... Not that every pass was caught ... Or that every tackle was made ... So conditions were fairly good early in the game. But with all those football players chewing it up thoroughly over two hours of playoff football, the middle of the field got torn up and muddy and slick. Twas a muddy mess by the time it was over. The wet snow eased off during the second quarter, but some drier snow, driven by chilly winds out of the north, arrived during the second half. As the game went on, the teams continued battling in the mire ... Finally, the game was over. A touchdown in the first quarter was the only scoring in the game. As always, the teams shook hands when it was all over ... I was talking to someone in the office today. Covering the game last Saturday was fun. Despite the rain and cold and mud. In fact, because of the rain and cold and mud. It was outdoors. It was real. It was genuine football. This weekend, I may be driving two hours through snow (twice) to got photos of teams playing on a plastic carpet in warm conditions. It's just not the same. To me, the fun part of football season ended last Saturday ... regardless of what happens in the playoffs.

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11/4/2008 - Change? At last?

The BIG change won't be happening for another 2 1/2 months, but it should be in motion after today. After four years of waiting, it's Election Day. Will America get it right this time? Most of the states had some form of early voting. In Michigan, well, we're a little behind the times. Everyone votes on Election Day in Michigan unless they get an absentee ballot. After discussing it with my wife, we decided to do our voting in the mid morning, just as I was driving her to the church and the quilters' group. Lovely weather. It's partly cloudy outside, and temperatures are in the mid 60s. Not bad for early November! So how long did voting take? How long were we in line? It took all of 15 seconds before I got the little slip (signature, address, date of birth) that I had to fill out to get my ballot; I also had to show my driver's license. Then I went into another room with the little voting booths and filled out the ballot. Same with my wife. Studied the ballot proposals: medical marijuana, yes; fewer restrictions on stem cell research, of course. Fed the ballot into the optical scanner. (Our ballots have the ovals that you fill in with a black felt-tip pen.) The whole procedure took five minutes, if that. Then I drove my wife to the quilters and went back to work. It was, I should mention, my first chance to vote for Obama. Ever. Many of you had the chance to take part in primaries or caucuses early this year, but Michigan held an illegal Democratic primary in January (10 months ago). Knowing the DNC wouldn't accept the results, many candidates, including Obama, took their names off the ballot. It raised a ruckus in the run-up to the convention in August. Eventually, they figured out a solution. We have a little tradition here on Election Day: Pancake Day. The local Kiwanis Club holds its Pancake Day on Election Day, so normally we vote, and then we get pancakes. Except this time we voted earlier than normal, so I took her to the quilters--they took her to the church where Pancake Day was taking place at 11:30 a.m., and I met her there. Pancakes. Sausages. Milk. Butter. It made for a filling mid-day repast. We had finished the winter tourism issue (final step: proofreading) this morning. Tonight (at 5 p.m.) I will be covering a district volleyball tourney; I cover one match, then go home for supper and to watch the returns come in. The volleyball districts continue on Thursday and Friday. Meanwhile, our football teams will both be going for their district titles on Friday night and Saturday afternoon. Both teams will be home. Both were home last Friday night for "sub-district" games. The weather was pretty decent: temperatures were in the 40s with no rain. It wasn't so nice one week earlier, the final week of the regular season. The game I was at Friday night had some interesting weather. For most of the first half, it rained. Things got pretty soggy. Here's a picture of the action on the field during the rain ... The rain eventually stopped during the second quarter, but during the second half fog started building. It went from soggy to foggy pretty quickly. Foggy conditions are hard for photography, especially action sports like football. Especially in a small, old stadium with poor lighting. For a while, I tried using my flash like usual. But the light from the flash picks up all the water vapor in the air and you get something like this ... Playing around with Photoshop can help some ... but it only goes so far ... What was I to do? I finally tried turning off the flash and using available light. The trouble was, there wasn't much available light. This is what the field looked like from the sidelines with all that fog in the air ... I wound up using one picture from during the rain and a shot of the reaction on the bench after our team earned a safety--I got the shot of the tackle in the end zone, too, but it was just too dark to use. You don't believe me? The next day (Saturday afternoon), David and I went to the dome in Marquette for an evening game. It was just cloudy, so photography conditions were much better. Here's what the Superior Dome looks like from the outside ... And here is what it is like inside ... If our teams win this weekend, we'll probably by back in the Dome for the regional title games. As the playoffs move on, of course, the U.P.'s weather gets less football-friendly. We have been lucky so far, but good luck lasts only so long. Everyone else is fine. The cats continue to adjust to each other. David came over last night--it was his birthday, so we had a favorite meal of his, and we watched some football. I bought him something he had wanted for a long time--a DVD recorder and VCR unit with a tuner. The DVD recorder doesn't have a hard drive of its own (like mine does; you just can't get them any more), but he wanted it mainly to copy some of his old videotapes, and the unit I bought will handle that with no problem (according to the box). I know I haven't been around here much lately. What can I say? The World Seri0us captured my attention. The election, of course--I've been watching CNN and C-SPAN a lot. And I've been pretty busy with night assignments. It should start easing off fairly soon. I've missed writing. I like to write at night, and there just hasn't been the time lately--because my wife likes it when we sit together and watch something. Or else when I'm upstairs writing, Charlie comes around. She hops up on the computer desk, walks around behind the flast-screen monitor, comes out the other side and climbs down into my lap. That's just the way she does it. Then she's happy. Purr, purr. And I'm done with writing for a while.

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10/23/2008 - Last chance to mow

Our area had a lovely day today. It started cloudy and cool, but then it cleared off and got into the low 50s. I celebrated it after work today by doing something I hadn't done for a while: I mowed the lawn. Final rite of our rapidly disappearing summer. A cold front is supposed to blow through on Sunday. We may see snowflakes before Monday. The grass had gotten long because I hadn't mown it for a while. Part of it is basic laziness, I suppose, but the long delay is partly due to the ankle I twisted in early September. We have a push mower, so when you mow the lawn you get some good exercise. I didn't want to push the ankle until it was feeling nearly back to normal. It is now. If I twist it the wrong way, it hurts a little. Otherwise, it's back to normal. I had to run out for a picture this evening, and when I walked out to the car, I said to myself that the lawn is looking fairly nice. Better than it was, certainly. The picture, by the way, was at a youth hockey practice. Yes, winter's on the way. **** Geez, I've fallen behind on everyone's blogs lately. I've got an excuse. Maybe not a good one, but it's better than nothing. At work, we have been working hard on our winter tourism issue. The official deadline is this weekend, and I fell behind on things last week. Suddenly it came to me--Eureka!--that nobody else is going to do the work for me. So I had to hustle my bustle. Like they say about the butcher who sat down in the meat grinder, "I'm getting a little behind in my work." So no quiet time at the office this week. Instead, manic work to get a bunch of features written or updated. Meanwhile, I had a pair of friends I wanted to write to, and that took up my evenings at home. And I was already tired, from all the work I had done. Also, Wednesday was my wife's birthday, and we wanted to visit my mom that evening. So we did. I got her a couple cards. Some of you may remember some of the infamous cards I get for my wife. The stock of clever ones seemed to be down this year. Still, I came up with this one. Here is the front ... And this is inside ... **** On a recent trip to see my mom, my wife and I decided to get a scratch mat for Max. We put it out, and Max seemed to take to it ... So did the other two cats. Maggie decided to give it a try. She thought it was good to sit on ... And Charlie decided to give it a try. First, she worked it up with a paw to make a little tunnel out of it ... Then the little feathery toy on it got her attention, and Charlie had a great time playing with it ... Oh, she was having a great time with it ... The cats are getting along a lot better. Still an occasional hiss or growl, but it's gotten a lot better. Last time I wrote, I wasn't sure it was going to work out. Now it's better. Max's personality is coming out more. He likes to get petted but doesn't like to be picked up that often. But he comes around, rubbing against my legs or my hand when I put it down. He likes to get his head petted and scratched. Purr, purr. Meanwhile, nearly every morning now, Charlie comes to visit me about 5 a.m., when I'm just waking up. I feel her walking up by my side. I try to lie on my back, with my arm to my side, so Charlie will lie down by my side, with my arm on the other side, so she can put her forepaws on my upper arm. Purr, purr. Sometimes she gets her middle rubbed. Other times, I drift back to sleep. Did I ever tell you that Charlie likes crackers? Every cat is strange in some way, and Charlie seems to have a weakness for ordinary soda crackers. When I came out to the living room this evening with a pair crackers, Charlie hopped up by me. Meow? Meow? Urrrow? She starts sniffing the crackers and tries to lick them, so I finally break off a tiny corner and offer it to her. She sniffs and then eats it. You could hear a soft crunch, crunch. She had two pieces and was satisfied. Ironically, my wife said she was sitting with Charlie yesterday. She had a couple crackers for herself ... and Charlie paid them no attention.

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10/20/2008 - Tagged like me

10/16/2008 - Are you sitting comfortably?

Prepare yourself for a shock. Are you sitting down? (Of course you are; you're at the computer, aren't you?) The news is: I haven't been feeling particularly creative lately. It's this, that and the other thing. Maybe my brain is seizing up. Screeech! Summer now seems to have fled the scene for good, and I'm working on articles for our annual winter issue. I can't begin to tell you how happy that makes me. Wonderful. Six months of winter, on deck. Well, like most stuff in life, it is what you make of it. Right at the moment, I'm a bit down at the prospect of winter coming. But after winter there's spring, and then summer. Spring is only six or seven months away, depending on whether it's a late spring or not. **** There is big news at our house. We have added another cat. May I introduce you to Max (his shelter name) ... Max--that name may be changed--was acquired from the local animal shelter. He is a male cat who was already neutered. He is about 3 1/2 years old, bright orange, as you can see, and comparatively thin. He is friendly and likes to be petted. Purr, purr, purr. My naive hope was that Charlie was looking for a friend, someone she can play with, since Maggie still hisses at Charlie when she goes by. Such has not been the case. We brought Max home yesterday, in the late afternoon. Once Charlie realized that the pet taxi came home with an occupant, she started hissing. And growling. Charlie knows cat words that I have never heard before. One sounds like "Oyyyyy, yoy-yoy-yoy-yoy-yoyyyyy!" (Normally, Charlie "talks" a lot as she goes around the house; some cats do, and others don't.) One time yesterday, she put her ears down (first time I ever saw her do that) and hissed and then chased Max upstairs. They both went under our bed. I followed them and heard them hissing at each other. That's all that happened. For the most part, they have stayed apart today. But my wife said they started having a conversation just before noon. She knew what to do: She turned on the vacuum cleaner. That ended the discussion immediately: One cat went one way, and the other went another. Another issue must be resolved: Max has not been declawed. We are hoping we won't have to do this. This evening, we tried to trim her claws with a fingernail clipper--something we hadn't done since we had Princess (that cat that preceded Frisky, who is the cat that preceded Charlie). Max must have been declawed before, but he didn't want to cooperate with us, so we let him go. He is not scratching furniture; just the carpets, and most of our carpets at home aren't much to speak of. He does that when he's happy, sort of kneading his paws on the floor. When we had lunch together today, Max went around and around the table, brushing against our legs and getting petted. I want to tell you a little about Max's history, too. Charlie came to the shelter as a kitten. Max arrived there around New Year's--he had been at the shelter for 10 months until this week. The story is that he was found as a stray, and they discovered he had an abcess in his mouth, which was causing him pain. The vet took care of that. According to the shelter's bio, "Max wants a nice indoors home. He doesn't want to be outside any more." At one point, they told us, he got depressed and stopped eating. He is still thin. Much lighter than Charlie, who had gotten rather rotund in her time with us. I just hope that he and Charlie will be able to get along better. I feel pretty bad about the way things have turned out. If I had known Charlie would be this way about it ... **** Tonight, I'm upstairs, writing, with the Red Wings game on the little TV to my left. I'm up here by myself. If this were a perfect world, I would have at least a cat here to keep me company. But this is not a perfect world, is it? Usually stuff like that doesn't bother me that much. Tonight it is.

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10/8/2008 - Indian summer

Checking in ... The last week or so went by in a bit of a daze. Mega amounts of baseball, at least compared to the rest of the season, when there frankly wasn't a lot on TV. Not the teams I was interested in, anyway. But this year the Milwaukee Brewers made it into the playoffs for the first time in 26 years, so I was honor-bound to watch as much of them as I could (notwithstanding the fact that I'm not as much into baseball as I used to be. Hockey has taken over ... but the Brewers in the playoffs change all that temporarily). How long has it been since the Brewers were in the baseball post-season? So long ago that I missed most of that World Series for two reasons. (1) My wife and I were taking childbirth classes at a local hospital, because she was pregnant with David. (2) We didn't have a VCR yet. It was the 1982 World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals. This was back in the days of Betamax vs. VHS. You don't know what a Betamax is? Anyway, this year, the Brewers were eliminated by Philadelphia in four games, with the final game on Sunday. I didn't expect them to win; they faced very long odds. I only wanted one thing: for them to last longer than the media darling Chicago Cubs. And they did--the Cubs were defeated by the L.A. Dodgers in three straight, the night before. So I was happy about that. I'll probably watch more of the baseball playoffs. But hockey season starts on Thursday night, and that's my No. 1 now. So let's just say I will be greatly distracted. **** Meanwhile, I'm wondering about how long the high school football season will go. Long-time readers know I have gone to the state championship game for the last four games--and our team won the Michigan state title last year. This year, I thought I wouldn't have to do that. Too many star players had graduated. But guess what? It's six games into the season, and the team really hasn't been challenged so far. Last Friday, as temperatures dipped into the upper 20s, they played their biggest rival, in a town 30 miles away--and won 46-6. It wasn't close. It's getting colder now, and the players' breath was steaming late in the game ... Earlier, I expected them to make the playoffs and last a few games. Now I have to adjust that projection. They are looking mighty strong, and my post-season may last longer than I first expected. Will I really have to make that 500+-mile drive down to visit my son over Thanksgiving and then the state title game on Friday morning? Three weeks are left in the regular season and then the playoffs start. I won't worry about it. It's completely out of my hands. It's just that I would like to spend Thanksgiving at home for once. After all, it's been five years since I last could. **** I have had a writing project in mind, which would have appeared here, this week. But I think I'm going to put it on hold until next year. It had to do with that trip to the pagan equinox ritual recently. During the trip, I visited a small city that was the site of a major disaster, the most deadly fire in U.S. history. And I bet you have never heard about it. But time is tight this week--we are working on one of our many special editions each year, and I need to get some stories written. Also, I don't have all the photos I want to help tell the story. I got a few during my visit, but just some of them. This story, I think, has to wait for another day. Or another year. Long enough for me to write it up right. **** I covered a cross-country meet on Monday. It rained for most of the day, and while the rain had stopped an hour before the race, it was still cool and damp and breezy. The seasons are definitely a-changing up here. But then a front went through, with rain, and temperatures are now forecast to be well above normal for the rest of the week. Highs in the upper 60s. Beautiful mild autumn days. Indian summer. There's a famous old cartoon by John T. McCutcheon, "Injun Summer," that appeared in the Chicago Tribune over a hundred years ago. About an old codger spinning tall tales to a boy while they are raking leaves in the fall. I always think about that this time of year. Have you ever seen it? Click the link and you will. **** One other thing to mention: Last Saturday, we went to the local animal shelter, to look at the cats. We saw several that we liked. We have been talking about them since. Maybe we will make a return visit fairly soon.

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10/1/2008 - Turning into October

We flipped the calendar page today. We also seem to have flipped the weather page. Yesterday, it was fairly nice. Today, it was cool and windy. Word is that the weather will get cooler as the week goes on. They are predicting lows in the upper 20s Friday night. (Note to self: Be sure to take the fingerless gloves to the football game that night.) I bowed to the inevitable at about 10:30 this morning: I reached for my sweater to pulled it on over my short-sleeved shirt. It was the first time I had done that since last spring. Outside, it was 45 at about noon with no sign it will be getting warmer for a while. So fall is here. The color change is now well along, but it's been cloudy most of the time so conditions for fall color photos have been very limited. Time to report on my adventures over the weekend. I went to a fall solstice ritual conducted by a neopagan group near Menominee, Mich. I spent the night there; I left home (by myself) at about 2 p.m. Saturday and arrived back home at about noon Sunday. Things went pretty well. I was there at the invitation of a couple I had met at the gathering held every summer, around the Fourth of July, in southwestern Wisconsin. They also travel long distances to get there. I drove first to their home. They helped carry my stuff downstairs to their "pagan guest room," which is a spare room equipped with a couch, several bookcases with pagan-related books in them, candles on top of them and posters on the wall. The room also featured lots of clutter. They had set up an air mattress on the floor, and I put my sleeping bag and pillow on it. I was all set. We had a light dinner there, and I got to meet the two resident cats. Another older woman arrived; she went to the event with us. It took place in Wisconsin, about 10 miles to the south, near a home and a large garage. It was just after sunset when we arrived. Outside, next to the garage, they had a large cauldron set up and were starting a fire. The cauldron had moons and stars cut out on the sides, which I thought was very cool (for a burning cauldron) ... Temperatures were about 55 to 60. Not overly cool. Once everyone had assembled (about a dozen people), the ritual took place in the garage. It was centered on a table decorated with several candles and some normal fall/harvesttime decorations ... My hosts led the ceremony, which lasted maybe 20 minutes. I had a minor part, speaking to the element Air. (There are four elements, Air, Water, Fire and Earth--their spirits are invited to take part in the ritual.) Once the ceremony ended, it was time for Act Two: Everyone moved over to a nearby table, where a variety of goodies were out for a pot luck. They had mead (honey wine), several other kinds of wine and a crockpot full of hot cider. That's what I went for; hot cider is one of my favorites. There were cornbread muffins, along with your typical Doritos and blue corn chips and dip and a few other things. Part three of the evening consisted of drumming. Maybe about half the people had come mainly for the drumming, and now was the time they were waiting for. Originally the drumming was to have been outside, around the cauldron, but some light rain passed through for about a minute or so, and the drummers were worried about their drumheads. So the drumming moved inside the largish garage. I played a small drum--I'm just a beginner, you know, but I know rhythm and syncopation, so I was able to figure out the rhythms part of the time. I took this shot by just the light of the candles ... But if you want to see the drums and the drummers ... It lasted till about 10:15 p.m., when the group started saying good-bye. We drove back to Menominee, dropped off the older woman at her place and then went back to the house. Before long, I was in the pagan guest room, stretched out on my sleeping bag. It took a while to fall asleep, but I finally did. I headed for home at about 8:30 a.m. Sunday. **** Outside of that, life has been fairly ordinary lately. The other notable thing to happen was our visit to my mom last Thursday. My wife came along. For the first time since spring, my mom expressed an interest in going for a ride. So we did. Between then and now, however, she has gotten a different wheelchair, and this one won't fold up and go into the trunk, like her old one could. Bottom line is that she couldn't get out until we were back at the nursing home. Our first stop was the cemetery where my dad and brother are buried. I pulled up so she could look out her window at the gravestone (about 15 feet away). She looked at it and before long she was crying. Crying for her son (my only brother), who took his life 23 years ago. The last time we were there, the stone was dirty with moss, lichens and other dirt. We came back there around Memorial Day (end of May) with our cleaning supplies. It looks nice now. The rest of the trip was better and predictable. We visited the rural area where she was raised (which looks nothing like it used to, even when I was a kid) and the farm where my dad lived (which still looks much like it did way back when). They are just a mile or two from each other. We wrapped up the drive by getting her a chicken sandwich at Subway on our way back to the nursing home. It was a six-incher. She ate about a third of it, and my wife and I polished off the rest of it. After that she was tired, so we headed for home. Lucky that we did it when we did. It was a nice day--temperatures in the mid 70s. Today, it's not even 50. It's October, after all.

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9/23/2008 - The mystery of the missing notebook

9/16/2008 - A weekend with Starlius

8/27/2008 - Pulling it all at the fair

Two weeks ago, the county took place in our town, and I covered some of the events held in front of the grandstand. Look, it's a small, rural fair. Low budget. Low creativity. Low expectations. They have a midway, some rides, 4-H exhibits and the 4-H livestock auction. Food booths. Elephant ears. They had a horse pull this year, but I opted to cover the 4-H kids' horse show first. Later, I drove past and there were no horses in the arena. Pulling is an important part of the show. The fair has the horse pull, a tractor pull and a truck pull. I like the horses the best, but I had to miss them this year. The tractor pull involves tractors pulling a weighted sled--there's a moving concrete box on it, and as the box moves, the sled gets harder and harder to pull. The arena's dirt floor was very dry (with hardly any rain for the last few weeks, that was no surprise), leading to very dusty conditions ... Eventually I wised up and went on the other side. However, with the tractors pulling into the sun, there was just so much I could do ... They finally had a fire truck come out and wet down the track where the sled was being pulled ... Most of the tractors in the competition were really old. Most date from the late 1940s or early 50s. It was ironic because the tractor pulling the weight sled back to the start was nice and new ... It was a lot like the truck pull, which took place Friday night. Same basic plan, with pickup trucks instead of tractors. The procedure was the same. First, the truck pulls the weight sled ... Lovely truck, right? When the pull is done, some heavy equipment pulls the weight sled back to the start ... Note the damage made to the track by the truck (or tractor) as it digs into the dirt track, trying to move the sled every last fraction of an inch that it can ... So to fix up the track, a bulldozer comes out to smooth things down ... Then the next truck (or tractor) comes out, and here we go again. And again. And again. It amounts to about 15 seconds of watching a truck pull the weight sled, followed by 2 or 3 minutes of pulling the sled back, the dozer coming out and smoothing the track, the next truck getting all set up, etc. It does get rather tedious. I liked one of the local trucks that was entered. It was a nice-looking Ford that made a good pull ... But on its next pull, something went very wrong. There was a grinding sound, the truck stopped dead, and something was glowing underneath it. In seconds, people were swarming around ... The engine had blown. I heard later that the guy had put about $10,000 into the engine, which was tested with a dynamometer and rated at 1,100 horsepower. Either the clutch or flywheel wasn't up to the challenge, and the $10,000 engine blew. And that wasn't the worst for him. The worst came a few minutes later: His well-loved Ford truck was pulled off the track ... by a Chevy ... A fate worse than death. The truck pull also featured some trucks from the Wisconsin-Upper Michigan Pullers Association: known as the WUMPAs or "whump-ass." These trucks are much more expensive than even the blue truck, beautifully painted, with highly tuned engines running on nitro fuel, like dragsters. And they were loud. VERY loud. Earth-shakingly loud. Hear-it-across-the-city loud. If sound could create light, this would be a very bright photo ... The truck show fills about a third to half of the grandstand. But the show on Saturday night fills all the seats, and then some. It's the demolition derby. There were about 60 cars this year, and a few had beautiful paint jobs ... While others were grizzled, recycled demo derby warriors ... And even the cars that came in looking nice came out looking not so nice. At one time, this was an Imperial. I guess it still is, not that you could identify it ... The demo derby is easily the most popular event of the fair. All the grandstand seats are packed, people are lined up around the fences, and the beer concession is very busy. Big surprise, right?

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8/25/2008 - The three bears plus one

Time marches on ... into fall! The calendar page still reads August, but we got a preview of coming attractions this morning. Our area had a frost advisory early Monday morning, though we didn't quite get there. I looked outside early this morning, and the ground was not frosted. We only got down to 34 (but the official temperature, near the river, reached 29). My life continues to be busy, and what with work projects, other personal projects and the last days of the Olympics, my blog-writing has been on hold. Maybe motivation is a problem, too. I wanted to ... and yet I didn't want to. You know how that goes? I still have other things on my mind. I have two photo entries coming up. One is from the county fair, held here about a week ago or so. That one is nearly done and could be posted pretty soon. The other is from that powwow we attended in early August. When things calm down, I'll work on the photos from that. The most important thing this week is that we have a short week at work--we put the paper together on Friday instead of Monday, due to the Labor Day holiday. That coincides with the first football games of the new high school season, kicking off Friday night. So what do we do about that? Here's what we do: I cover one of the games in person Friday night, then come in Saturday morning, write the report on that game and process some pictures. I also get a phone report on the other game and write a report on that. Then I put my page together; someone else uploads it to the printing plant later. I hope to get it all done by halfway through Saturday afternoon. I should; all my other work ought to be done by then. Once my pages are all finished, my wife and I are hitting the road--to visit my in-laws in NW Wisconsin over the long weekend. My father-in-law died last December (our most recent visit). Since then the rest of the family has been dividing up things at the house. They put several big boxes of things aside for us--we are supposed to take them home with us in our little car. (FYI, there are four girls and four boys, and my wife is the eldest.) Of course, there are only so many big boxes you can cram into a little car. We will get there Saturday night and drive home either on Monday or Tuesday. So it's either two or three nights away from home. It must be getting old for the kitties. **** Now here's something that happened to me last week. I was in the office, working on this and that, when we got a phone call. It was someone I knew, and he was excited. "I've got a bear in a tree near my place; come out with your camera if you want a great shot." He told me how to get there. I called my wife and got her off whatever she was doing so she could see the fun, too. Here's what the fun was like. See that tree on the left side of the road? Look about three-quarters of the way up ... That's what you could see without binoculars. But I have a telephoto lens; it's useful for situations like this. Through the lens, here's what we saw ... In all, we have four bears here: the mama bear and three cubs--one below, one above and the third near mom's belly. They were moving around while I was there (about 10 people had gathered to look--it was about 11:30 a.m.) The guy said he discovered the bear while mowing some grass--he saw some fragments of bark at the base of the tree and looked up. We were there about a half hour, then headed back to town. The guy later told me that the bear and cubs came down about 2 p.m. Just in time to scare the mail carrier while she was making her daily deliveries.

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8/19/2008 - Back to the surface

8/12/2008 - Bloggy blahs

8/2/2008 - Off to more adventures

6/29/2008 - Final countdown

6/24/2008 - Empty nest syndrome

I have been getting some dangerous ideas lately. Me? My ideas? Dangerous? Dangerous in terms of breaking out of the status quo, the rut where my creativity has been stuck for a long time. I must confess to being in the doldrums mentally for more than a little while. Yesterday and today, I discovered some new ideas bubbling around in my skull. I just need time to work on them. Time at the keyboard. Time to think and develop them. More on that soon, I hope. The big news at home is that the nest on our front porch is empty. We checked it with the mirror this morning, just as I went to work. All that was left was a single unhatched egg. Nobody else is around. Frankly, I haven't felt too motivated to report on life inside the nest this year. But you have to understand, this is the fourth robin's nest on our porch in the last three years, so how much can I say or show about it that I haven't done before? I did take a few pictures over the last couple weeks. This first one was taken the morning of June 11, as we left for the Milwaukee trip. At that time, we had two brand new baby birdies ... The next picture was taken on June 17. My, how the little ones have grown! Three days later, last Friday, they were poking their heads above the side of the nest when mom's shopping trips weren't fast enough for their hungry tummies ... The next day, I may have inadvertently led to the nest's abandonment. I had to run to the office to get something, and I was late. I rushed out the front door ... forgetting the young family in the nest. Suddenly, there was a flurry of wings above and around me, and birds seemed to be flying everywhere. One of the young birds landed under an awning next door. There wasn't anything to do about it after the fact--I kept on walking to the office. My wife said she didn't see any action at the nest on Sunday. We got out the mirror Monday morning, and this is what we saw ... We spent most of Sunday in Iron Mountain, visiting my mom and seeing the newest Indiana Jones movie. We had planned to take my mom along, since she is a big Harrison Ford fan, and the Indiana Jones series were some of her favorite films. But she said she didn't want to go. She wanted to, she said, but her stomach just wasn't up to it. I'll make some photos soon from our trip to Milwaukee. Last week was busy; I have a little more time next week. **** This is the week before next week ... when I return to that neopagan camp in southern Wisconsin. I went there for the first time in 2005, which was when I first met S. I took my wife there in 2006, but she didn't care for it, was unhappy--and we only spent a single day there. Grrrrrr. In 2007, I was focused on cleaning out my mom's house, and I decided not to go. This year, I'm definitely going, and I will spend much of next week there. Like in 2005, I'll have my cell phone along so I call my wife and let her know I'm thinking about her. But she's not going this time. No way, no how. She hasn't asked or hinted, and I'm sure she knows what I'd say if she did. In fact, S also wanted to attend this year, because she is interested in some of the planned discussions. (She really enjoyed the single day she was there in 2005.) A lot of last week was spent exchanging e-mails about the chances of her getting there somehow, but it's just not meant to be. So what I will be doing is recording those talks on the little digital tape recorder that I use for interviews. Back home, I can convert the files MP3 files, burn them to a CD and send it to her. The topics? “The Future of Religion.” Given the limits of rational knowledge and the negativity associated with religion, does religion have a future as a function of civilization? I----- [the guy who runs the event with his wife] thinks so as cults of mythopoetic enthusiasms or enchantments of a post-modern age. The talk will be given in the picnic shelter." “A Neo-pagan interpretation of the Golden Rule, or why I am not a Christian.” I------ will explore the religious, philosophical and psychological meaning of this teaching. He will provide historical/cultural context and show Gnostic influence to the teaching." In fact, S is involved in a church herself, a tiny church you haven't heard of, based on early Christian writings, such as the Gospel of St. Thomas. Anyway, I'm getting off topic. Here is more about it, from the e-mail I got: The camp "is a place where people of like mind and shared values can camp, picnic, contemplate, honor the passing of life's seasons, create personal shrines, learn and recreate. It is a place where the human community & the community of nature can co-exist in peace and harmony. "Come, enjoy and share this beautiful forest eco-system dedicated to the Green Growth of Eco-Human Community. This gathering will be held on a 60-acre parcel in southwestern Wisconsin in the driftless area. It has a mix of open hayfield (planted by a local farmer), pine and mixed hardwoods. The campsite is primitive (no water on site), but porta-johns and there is a 30X40 picnic shelter. Firewood is plentiful. The site is clothes-optional where landscape and night can provide the necessary privacy. A large circle in the woods has been cleared for ritual and celebration. [Village] is about 5 miles away where food, ice, gas and water can be obtained. Directions and other info will be sent to those who register." Reference is made to "the driftless area." That is the southwestern corner of Wisconsin, which the glacier didn't cover during the last ice age. It's much more hilly there than the rest of the state, which was sort of scraped flat by the glacier. I wear what most of the people wear at the camp: a T-shirt, shorts, sandals and a hat. But down at the circle (during special rituals and then at night around the fire, when the drummers really get going) many of them wear a lot less, and I am no exception. Most of the people there are in their 40s and 50s. Some younger people, but not as many. **** After writing this, I recalled about the first camp I attended, in 2005, and when happened over there. It got long, and I finally decided to use it in my Vox blog instead. If it's not there now, check back in a day or two--I'm still working on it. **** Yesterday, I woke up with an idea: taking a trip west, by myself. By car. A few hundred miles to visit a friend I made here. Just a visit. I would get some nature photos along the way, of course. Go farther west than I have ever gone before in my life. An adventure! I don't know. Am I too old for adventures? Is there time enough this summer? We'll see. I'll tell you, though, I really like the idea. Whether I can do it, that's another thing.

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6/15/2008 - Rough way to make a living

We're back from our mini-vacation. We got back Saturday afternoon after three nights on the road in eastern Wisconsin. Things went fairly well. We ran into some heavy rain on Thursday, but don't get the wrong idea: It doesn't measure up (literally) to the rain that soaked other parts of the Midwest in recent weeks. They got more in the city where S lives; 4 to 5 inches of rain that night, enough to flood streets and create havoc. Earlier on Thursday, we visited the Mitchell Park Conservatory and the Milwaukee Public Museum. The rain hit us as we were driving back to the motel--very heavy rain, but traffic on the expressway was fairly light and we got back to the motel OK. The rain stopped for an hour or two while we were having dinner, and then it started coming down hard again once we were back in the motel. Enough to create a river in the parking lot ... The next day, we went north to Cedarburg, where my wife was raised, and saw several roads closed by high water ... The little creek that passes through town was a rushing river, suitable for whitewater rafting ... S said they wound up with about six inches of water in their basement on Thursday night. But by the time we got there late Friday afternoon, it was hard to see signs of the watery chaos. That visit went well. She talked with my wife and I until her husband got back from work. Then we went for dinner at a Mexican restaurant (I had a "choriloco") and the next stop was the pool and whirlpool at our motel. That was different. It was the first time I had been in an indoor pool in many years--maybe the first time since high school! And it was my first time ever in a whirlpool. That was fun. S and her husband stayed with us until about 10 p.m. We left for home the next morning. In a few days, I'll write more about our trip and the things we saw. Right now, though, I want to show some of the shots I took at the rodeo that was in town recently. I like getting shots of the cowboy action. First, a few "mood" shots. Like these cowpokes sitting on the fence, waiting for the show to start ... Here's a cowpoke getting ready for his next ride--bandaging up the injured parts ... And here is another cowboy, cigarette in place, getting his saddle ready. What magical concoction is he sprinkling on it? Baby powder ... We saw a bull that must have been a magician. He sure made his rider disappear. Now you see him ... ... now you don't ... One of the broncs must have been showing off for the camera. Honest. Here, he's got his head turned my way. "You want some action? Watch this!" ... Yes, it's the cowboy with the smoke and the baby powder. First, off went his hat ... Then he started bouncing up and down ... Yeah, this bronco buster was getting some sick air ... What goes up must come down ... But it doesn't always come down where you want ... Look out below! ... And another cowboy winds up eating the arena dirt ... Yes, he walked away from it. A little shakily, but he's a tough dude. You have to be if you want to do this for a living. Could be hazardous to your health.

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6/10/2008 - Muse got sleepy

6/4/2008 - That's that

There. That's that. I've definitely reached a breakoff point for 2008. The spring sports season is over--it ended last Saturday. Hockey season is almost over, too; the NHL playoffs, I mean. It's not over yet, but it will be in the next few days--maybe as soon as tonight. I thought it would end Monday. We were less than a minute away from the Red Wings winning the Stanley Cup, but Pittsburgh scored a late goal, the game went into overtime, and about two hours later the Penguins got another goal to win it. Their last gasp, I hope. It's gone on long enough. It's time to watch the Wings lift the cup. Then I can move on to other things. I want to turn the page. I have been very devoted to the playoffs, but it's gone on long enough. (Sometimes I think I am overly loyal--to my favorite sports teams and (without being too specific) to other parts of my life.) Next week, my wife and I will be doing some other stuff. It's our first vacation trip this summer (not counting the April trip to that quilt show in Chicago). This time the destination is Milwaukee. We plan to visit the Milwaukee Public Museum, the Mitchell Park domes and some of the sights in a town about 30 miles north of the city, the town where my wife grew up. She says they have a quilt cottage or museum there. Or something like that. It's related to quilts, anwyay. She said she would be doing some internet research on other places to go in that area. As for me, I have no real plans. We lived in Milwaukee just after we got married (I was raised in the suburbs, went to school and worked in the city), but we moved away about 30 years ago, and the place has changed a lot. That, I feel, is my past life, and it's over and done with. I might be interested in seeing the Brewers, but my wife's tolerance for baseball is not much greater than it is for hockey, so I'll just let that pass. Frankly, it's not a big priority for me, either. Not any more. Things have changed, and I have changed, too. About 10 years ago, I visited the suburb where I was raised. Needless to say, it wasn't very similar to my memories. I remembered some of the streets and the places I used to go. But that was long ago. Those places now live only in memory. What stands there now just isn't the same. Whew! Getting sidetracked and philosophical there. 'Scuse me! There is a chance we can visit S and her husband, since we'll be driving right past their city. I mentioned that in the e-mail I sent her earlier today. I'm also going to lift several other paragraphs I wrote to her: just news updates. Good old copy and paste. So I will quote myself: The high school sports season ended last Saturday with the track finals. I had the tennis and golf finals earlier in the week. Our local team won the U.P. championship in both boys tennis and boys golf, and the girls golf team was third. The track team didn't do as well. The other school I cover also won a boys golf title, and its track teams were third (boys) and fourth (girls) in the small schools division. Anyway, all that's over. This weekend, we have the rodeo in town. We should return from our trip in time to get pictures at the local car show on Father's Day. The other big event coming up in the near future is taking my mom to see the new Indiana Jones movie. She is a BIG fan of Harrison Ford, loved the other Indiana Jones movies, and I think a matinee show at the theater near the nursing home (less than five miles away) would be a nice treat for her. Sort of a delayed birthday gift--she turned 86 last week. When I mentioned it to her recently, she sounded very interested. Not many things interest her nowadays, but that movie made the grade. She just seems a lot more tired more often than before. I suppose that is to be expected. One more update: Ms. Robin has four bright blue eggs in her nest. I didn't send S a picture, but here is a photo I took over the weekend. I got out the chair and mirron and camera and took a look. And inside ... There was a storm the next night, with the wind kicking up after dark and a little thunder. I turned on the porch light. There was Mrs. Robin, loyally settled in on her future progeny ... **** The other news is a sad note about the passing of one of my all-time favorite musicians: Bo Diddley. Oh, I love Bo Diddley. And I know how it all started. When I was a kid, the Rolling Stones were just coming over to the U.S.--this was 1965. At that time, they were mostly doing covers of R&B classics, not their original stuff. I liked their music, and I liked their songs--to the point where I looked at the record labels to see who wrote them. And I would see names like Burnett and McDaniel and Dixon. Dixon was Willie Dixon. He authored many an R&B classic for Chess Records. Chester Burnett was the actual name of Howlin' Wolf. I know OF him at the time, but I never really got to hear much of his music until about 10 or so years ago. And it knocked my socks off. Great, great stuff. Howlin' Wolf instantly became one of my favorites. But Wolf's music wasn't played on the pop radio AM stations around Milwaukee nor on the FM rock stations that followed. But you would occasionally hear from Ellas McDaniel--whose stage name was Bo Diddley. You would hear Bo Diddley's thumping, hard-rocking music once in a while--done by the man himself. More often, it was done by his disciples. I always loved "Mona" by the Rolling Stones, featuring Brian Jones' guitar work. That was ported over intact from Bo Diddley's version of the song he wrote. And the Yardbirds' rocking version of "I'm a Man," where they spelled the word out and launched that rocket into orbit. That was another Bo Diddley song. Another Bo Diddley classic. Years pass, and I'm in a record store in Green Bay when I spot a 2-CD Bo Diddley box set put out by Chess. Now I finally had the real stuff. And it's great stuff, folks. I could hear the humor, the interplay with his band, especially maracas player Jerome Green. Bo and Jerome did "Say Man," where they would basically play an upbeat instrumental (guitar, piano and maracas), not sing a single note but trade insults about each other and their girlfriends all through the record. It starts out ... J: "Say man." B: "What's that, boy?" J: "I want to tell you about your girlfriend. Hehehe." B: "What about my girl?" J: "But you don't look strong enough to take the message." B: "I'm strong enough." J: "I might hurt your feelings." B: "My feelings are already hurt, by being here with you." J: "Well ... I was walkin' down the street with your girl the other day." B: "Uh-huh." J: "And the wind was blowing real hard." B: "Is that right?" J: "And the wind blew the hair into my face." B: "Uh-huh." J: "Hehe. And you know what else happened?" B: "What happened? J: "The wind blew her hair into her face." B: "Yeah?" J: "And we went a little further. Do you want to hear the rest of it?" B: "I might as well." J: "The wind blew her hair into the street." He would brag about being a man. It seemed every other song had "Bo" or "Diddley" or both in the title. "The Story of Bo Diddley" is another funny one. "A man came up with a lo-o-o-o-o-o-ng cigar. And he said, Sign this line, and I'll make you a star." Man, he put out so much good stuff! And he would do "Road Runner" and make his boxy guitar do riffs that garage bands tried to copy for years. He was trained in violin and played the violin in an instrumental. He'd sing about his home in Mississippi. He reminded us that "You can't tell a book by looking at the cover." He never felt he got the credit--especially financially--for what he did for music. And he did a lot for music. That ever-present "Bo Diddley" beat. That "shave and a haircut" tempo. Bu-bu-bu-bu-bump-bump. Bump-bump. Many of his songs only used one chord. But would you believe he wrote the '50s song "Love Is Strange" by Mickey and Sylvia? It's true. "How do you call your lover boy?" "Come here, lover boy!" Bo kept touring until near the end--a stroke finally took him off the road permanently. Now he's gone at the age of 79. The man who walked 47 miles of barbed wire. Who used a cobra snake for a necktie. Who had a brand new house on the roadside made of rattlesnake hide. Who had a brand new chimney on top made of a human skull. "Now come on, take a little walk with me, Arlene, and tell me who do you love?" Here's one famous story. Bo was to appear on the Ed Sullivan Show in the mid 1950s, right about the time when Tennessee Ernie Ford had a monster hit with "Sixteen Tons." Bo recorded that song on one of his albums, and Ed Sullivan wanted him to do that song on his show. So he did "Sixteen Tons" during the rehearsal. And then, during the live broadcast, Bo steps up to the mike ... and plays "Bo Diddley." Ed Sullivan was less than delighted. Bo never appeared on Sullivan's show again. J: "I was out with your girlfriend the other day." B: "Is that right?" J: "Yeah. Man, that chick was so skinny she had to tie some knots in her legs to make some knees. Hehehe." B: "Oh, that wasn't none of my girlfriends." J: "Who was it?" B: "That was your wife." J: "Them is fighting words man!" B: "Is that right?" J: "You meet me in the alley tomorrow night, after dark, by yourself." B: "That's OK with me." J: "You gonna be there by yourself?" B: :"I'll be there. All by myself." J: "I know it, 'cause I ain't coming! Hehehe."

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5/27/2008 - Quiet holidays, love-ins and fun with math

5/24/2008 - She's back!

A familiar visitor has returned. If you've been around here for a while, you will recognize her right away. I'll get to that in a few minutes. Slowly (very slowly) but surely, our weather has been improving. We got into the 50s on Friday, and it might get as warm as 70 by Sunday. Not exactly shorts weather yet, though. I want shorts weather. And we are seeing more critters. One morning last week, we saw this familiar visitor ... He looked at us (watching from the kitchen window) for a moment or two and then resumed his breakfast ... I have been getting a few questions from long-time readers about the robins, whose progeny have been documented here in the past. Are they back? Have they returned to their apartments under the front porch? About two weeks ago, we saw the start of a nest, but later in the day everything was on the porch. No action after that until Thursday, when I saw this ... But later that day, all the weeds and grasses were on the porch again. Oh well! There is no stopping an idea whose time as come, though. Later in the day, we saw more work had been done. And then we saw ... She flew off a second later across the highway, and I lost track of her. But a minute or so later ... ... here she was coming back with more stuff for her new nest. By Friday morning, when I left for work, more work had been done ... And by noon Friday, Ms. Robin was getting comfortable in her nest. Lots of stuff is hanging down, but it looks like this nest is going to be around for a while ... In a few days, we will get out the chair and mirror and see whether anything is happening inside. **** The tough part of being a music fan is when you're out on the road, going somewhere. You want to take your music along, but it hasn't always been easy. When I first started driving, eight-track decks were all the rage. I resisted the urge and finally got a cassette deck. My reasoning was simple: You can record cassettes. You can't record eight-track tapes. (Not to mention the fadeout and "ka-chunk" you heard when the music went from one track to the other.) Then, in the mid '80s, CDs started coming out. Much higher fidelity. Much better sound. But my car was older, money was tight, and I had to improvise. I wound up getting a Walkman-like CD player with a wire that leads to a thing that fits in the cassette deck. Plug the plug into the cigarette lighter, and your music will play through the car's speakers. That was cool. It got cooler after I learned how to burn CDs and could transfer music to CD-Rs that would play on the Walkman. Sometimes when I went on trips, I had two cases of CDs under the front seat, maybe 24 in each case. So that's up to 48 CDs making the trip with me. And by this time, I had another car, and, what do you know, it had a CD player in the dash. But Murphy's Law of electronic devices is that there will always be something bigger and better. I first learned about iPods a few years ago from my older son--he showed how he downloaded podcasts and could take them with him. So that's something else new. Podcasts. About every topic imaginable. And some unimaginable. And you can take it all along with you in an iPod. I finally had to get one for myself. It stored 30 gigs of stuff, and I thought I was set for life, especially after I got a dohickey that lets you play the iPod through the car's speakers. Cigarette lighters will never die--not as long as they power useful gadgets like that. The 30 gigs that set me up for life didn't last that long with all the CDs I have collected over the years. Too much music from too many genres. Too many podcasts about too many topics. The wide open spaces on my iPod were filling up rapidly. Only one thing to do: get a bigger one. I did just that recently. This one will store 80 gigs, and that's a lot of CDs and podcasts. All in this little gizmo that I can stick into a shirt pocket. I also invested in a new case--this time a brown leather case. It looks pretty sharp, don't you think? Plus, you can get a mini-glimpse of my high quality music library ... So now I think I'm in good shape for music for quite a while. I hope I am, anyway. (You don't think I should have gotten that 160 gig model, do you?)

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5/21/2008 - The $40 mystery

It's a mystery that is almost a week old now, and I just haven't been able to crack it. I have looked. In the car. On the floor. In every pocket of my pants, my jacket, my jeans. On my computer desk. In a folder of paper for a board meeting. Yes, even under the couch in the living room. Whatever its hiding place, it picked a good one. Last Friday, I got paid at work. I filled out a deposit slip for the bank and took it there that afternoon. I deposited the entire amount except $40, which I wanted back in cash. You know, for cash on hand to cover this or that expense that comes up. The teller at the bank gave it back to me inside the envelope--I remember seeing the money there. What happened to it since ... I can't say. I've been looking. I looked in the car. On the floor. In every pocket, etc., etc., etc. Everywhere I can think of. No envelope. No deposit slip. No $40. So I am appealing to all my regular readers over here. Have you seen an envelope with $40 in it (a pair of $20 bills)? If you have, would you be so kind as to send it over here? No questions will be asked. **** I had an interesting time last night. I decided to take a break from track meet after track meet to get photos at a girls fastpitch softball game in town. It's a relatively new sport around here, but I've seen it on TV and know how tense and exciting it can be. Last night I also was reminded of one unalterable fact of life up here: You just can't depend on the weather. Especially in spring. The sun had been out during the day, and it felt pretty nice. But this game was at 6 p.m. By then the sun was behind a thick deck of clouds. Not only that--the wind was kicking up. Out of the north. Blowing hard. And cold. Hard enough to ripple the pants some of the players were wearing. Cold enough for blankets and quilted coats, gloves and knit hats among the spectators ... And some of the girls just weren't prepared. Oh, they know very well what cold weather is like up here. But they weren't expecting cold like this 2/3rds of the way through May. Some of the girls were wearing just uniform shirts and thin pants, like this batter ... That's not going to keep the chill out. Some had sweats on under their shirts. They played for 1 1/2 innings. It clearly wasn't getting any warmer. It clearly was getting windier. The trees along the street beyond the outfield were swaying with each gust. After that, the coaches got together with the umpires. Everyone agreed that this game was not meant to be played this night ... So it was a short evening. I went back home, warmed up my hands (my gloves were back home--after all, I also had been led to believe that we were in late May) and stayed inside for the rest of the night.

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5/19/2008 - Off to a premiere

5/11/2008 - A distracted mind

4/9/2008 - Day 1

4/6/2008 - Charlie's fishing trip

I had some time Wednesday night to work on photos. Once that work was done, I uploaded them to Photobucket and then started writing a blog entry. I'd say I was about 98% finished with it when I hit the magic combination of keys. I think it was Alt-Cmd-Shift-Z+ Enter. Whatever it was, it was enough to go back to the previous page. When I hit the forward key again, I discovered that all my dubious creativity had disappeared for a different dimension in a parallel universe. The Twilight Zone, for short. Let's just say that I was not pleased. As I said at the time, "Grrrrrr." The most recent photos I worked up were from the big snowstorm early last week. The April Fool's Day storm. It started on Monday afternoon, and really got going after dark that night. When I looked out the back door window on Tuesday morning, the back porch looked not at all like it had the day before, when most of the snow was gone ... The snow shovel was still in position, but now it wore a cloak of white. The railings were burdened with snow. And the wind was throwing around more snowflakes from the roof of the neighboring building. It looked a lot like January. That was before I shoveled the front walk, caught a glimpse of Plowman, moved my car, and spent the morning at work. By the time I went back for lunch, here's what it looked like--with the addition of my footprints on the porch ... The wind had stopped, and while the snow was still pretty deep on the porch, the sun was starting to work on it. Later that afternoon, my wife put the shovel to work. On Wednesday, the sun was out for most of the day, temperatures got to close to 40, and the snow melted a little more. For the next two days, temperatures kept climbing ... into the 50s on Thursday and Friday and well into the 60s on Saturday. Much too warm to wear our jackets when we went to Iron Mountain to visit my mom--although we were glad we brought them along when the sun started setting. By the time we got back home, we were back down around 40. With all the warm weather, the snow has taken a severe pounding--but they are warning that some snow may come back here on Tuesday night. It was snowing in Minnesota and the Dakotas on Sunday morning. OK, now for the long-promised pictures of Charlie. She has been a busy little cat lately. A week or so back, it was late at night, my wife was in bed, and I was at the computer when Charlie came to visit. This time, she climbed from my lap up onto the desk and lay down among the cables, papers, magazines and pens that normally reside there. Charlie doesn't mind a cluttered desk ... Then she reached down and started fishing around in the desk drawer. Something had caught her eye. What was she after? ... Look! I think she's got a bite! Slowly, carefully, she pulled out her catch of the day: the earbuds from my iPod ... But Charlie! Kitties don't listen to iPods! And they aren't made the right size for kitties! You can try it if you want, but ... Do you know what this shot reminds me of? The famous picture of that little white dog who seems to listen intently to the sound coming from a gramophone. Is this a 21st century version of "His master's voice"? A few days later, I was watching something on TV while my wife was working at her sewing machine, sewing some scraps of fabric together for a quilt top. Seated nearby, enjoying a box seat view of the action, was Charlie ... Her kitty mattress was the box where my wife keeps some of her fabric scraps. I got a little closer and discovered that Charlie was watching closely as my wife ran the sewing machine. Except when I distracted her ... My wife said that the whirr of the sewing machine at first bothered Charlie, but she's clearly gotten over that. Here, she tries to steady my wife's hand as she guides the fabric to the needle ... Now how's that for a helpful kitty? When I got a little closer, she wriggled towards me to get her head scratched ... Of course, there's one thing that cats can do better than any human: relax and hang loose. Here, Charlie shows us how it's done, in her own style ... And it looks like my wife has taken a lesson from Charlie, simply by sitting next to her. Sweet dreams ... **** The big thing coming up for us this week is pretty darn big, all right. We are going to that huge quilting show in Chicago, near O'Hare Field. We plan to leave next Friday morning (stopping in to visit S and her husband on the way south), spend Saturday at the show and drive back home on Sunday.

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4/1/2008 - The joke's on us

3/26/2008 - A friend to the deer

About two weeks ago, I interviewed a guy about his Coast Guard career. He lives deep in the woods now, but he served the Coast Guard on the Great Lakes, North Atlantic and the Pacific (during Vietnam) for close to 30 years. Interesting guy. Nice fellow, who just turned 72. The interview was for an article I wrote for our annual veterans issue, which we have been working on for the last few weeks. As I was leaving, I saw a deer on his lawn. It's the kind of deer that doesn't move when you walk up to it, with an inch or two of snow on his wooden back. "Hey," I said in jest, "I see you have a deer on your lawn." "Yes, we have them here all the time." He was taking me seriously--no laugh in his voice--so I looked around. He was looking out another window, and there were real live deer out that window. It seems the guy puts out bales of alfalfa for the deer during winter (which is still hanging on up here), about 20 yards from his house. I looked out, and there they were ... It was lunchtime, and we watched as more deer walked through the trees to the buffet, while others left ... He saw I was interested in getting pictures. "I'll see if I can get them to come a little closer." We went outside, and he went to a shed, where he keeps some of the feed he puts out (never corn, he says; it makes them fat), filled up a coffee can and threw out some of it on a far corner of his driveway, where it had been plowed ... Some of the deer were already looking. Moments later, they started moving in. But there was a guy with a camera standing nearby, and the thing would click at times. Loud enough so the deer backed off. The Coast Guard vet shook my hand, said goodbye and headed inside, while I got into my car. But as I glanced off to my left, I noticed the deer were starting to move back in ... And as I sat there, watching, more started moving in ... In just a few minutes, quite a crowd had gathered--with a few standing watch ... So it was a good morning to be a deer--at least a deer living near this fellow. **** Overall, though, winter has dragged on way too long up here. It's not that we're still getting occasional snow. That's to be expected. The problem is that it's still so cold, and we really haven't gotten even a sniff of warmer weather. I just checked yesterday--we haven't had a high temperature of 45F or above (+7C) since back on Nov. 14, over four months ago. The advance forecasts call for more of the same. It's gotten me down, I guess. Winter has had its time, and now it's time for it to move on. It has outlasted its welcome. Winter: Take the hint. When spring started last week, I deliberately stopped using my long winter coat and switched to my spring jacket (which is still heavy enough to ward off all but winter's worst). It's just a lot of waiting and impatience now. The next big thing for us is the trip to Chicago, for that huge quilt show my wife wants to attend. It takes place over the second weekend of April. We are trying to decide on a schedule and whether we can visit S and her husband, either on the way south or on the trip back north. (All of us want to visit, but it's hard for her husband to get time off from his jobs (plural).) Also, I need to do some research. Last night I spent some time on Google Earth, getting reacquainted with the highways around Chicago--in particular, the Tri-State Tollway near O'Hare Field, the area where the megashow takes place. For my safety and sanity, I think it's in our best interests to focus on the show and not on other sightseeing or shopping. My wife gets tired, especially her feet, when she's been walking around all day (shopping, for example), and I really don't want her feeling worn out halfway through the show. If we do a lot of shopping the day before the show, her legs won't be 100% for the big day. Of course, sitting in the car all day isn't the best thing, either. Basketball and football coaches always talk about the "bus legs" their players get when they have to make a long ride to the site of a game. I want to take my camera to the show, and I probably will. But my main job description will be as pack mule--carrying around all the stuff she picks up at the different booths--and, of course, chauffeur. So I'm expecting to be walking around the show with the camera around my neck, trudging around while carrying several heavy bags of stuff. After the show, she will be able to rest. We'll probably spend that night very quietly at the motel. The next day, we point the car back north. That is also the first weekend of the Stanley Cup playoffs. The tradeoff for the pack mule is that he will be watching hockey on the motel's TV the night before the show. The night after, she won't care--her feet will be tired, and she'll be too busy looking over all the stuff we picked up at the show. Unless she zonks out from sensory overload. That's two weeks away. This weekend, it's Draft Day for the fantasy baseball league I run. I've done that for years, but last year I stopped running my own team. Frankly, I'm just not as interested in baseball as I used to be, for a number of reasons. This year, though, I will be drafting players for someone else's team. He has to be out of town (for work) that day, so I said I would pinch-hit for him.

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3/19/2008 - Party animals

On a sunny morning a few weeks ago, while I was putting on my coat to go to the office, my wife happened to glance out the kitchen window. Then she called me over. "I think we missed a big party," she said. I looked outside. No question about it. We missed a big shindig at the bunny club ... Turning towards the left ... When I went home for lunch, I took more photos as evidence. This is looking towards my wife's little lilac bushes ... I walked next to the car and took a shot ... There were two areas with plenty of footprints. This one must be where they set up their disco and did the bunny hop ... The other one was around the base of the neighbor's big lilac bush. I can't really tell what went on here, but there plainly was a lot of traffic ... I think there's only one thing we can say for sure: There probably will be plenty of baby bunnies hopping around in the weeks to come. **** It's been rather quiet here. I haven't been driving that much due to the rising cost of gas and the near total quiet on the local sports scene. I got some photos of a local hockey tournament last weekend, and there's a youth wrestling tourney this Saturday. Today, I drove up to Marquette for a sportswriters' meeting. They still have plenty of snow up there, but it was a sunny day, and the roads were dry. It was a lot warmer than the last time I went to an all-U.P. basketball meeting ... I talked recently about getting a new TV. It arrived during the day Monday, I set it up, hooked up all the cables and--after finally discovering a bad cable connection at a splitter, we have been enjoying it a lot. Monday night, we watched "2001: A Space Odyssey." Tuesday, it was the 1940s comedy "Harvey" with Jimmy Stewart. Tonight, the feature was "Microcosmos," a French nature documentary about mostly bug life. That was a great show with the big screen and stereo sound. We also watched the end of tonight's Red Wings game, an episode of "Gunsmoke" and some Popeye cartoons. Charlie (our new cat) has been sleeping most nights next to my legs. On recent nights, it's been playtime after the lights go out, as she pursues, stalks and pounces on hands moving mysteriously under the covers. After a while, she is ready to settle down and get to sleep. She's just like a little kid at times. For a while, she is playing busily and energetically. Then you get busy with something else for a few minutes, and when you turn back she is fast asleep. Ah, for the life of a cat!

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3/4/2008 - Getting busy at home

2/29/2008 - Menage a trois

Since I was a teenager and got interested in sex, I have fantasized about being in bed with two girls. I really wanted it to happen. I dreamed about what it would be like. Once, in mid 2005, it almost did. But it didn't. But now it has. For the first time in my entire life, I have slept between two females. I was between them, and they both cuddled up with me all night when not sleeping. And we all slept very well, too. On my right side--my wife of so many years. On my left side--my cat of the last five days. Yes, I suppose you could call it a menage a trois, the three of us all cuddled together. Maybe you could even call it a menage a quatre ("quatre," pronounced like "cat" in English, is the French word for "four"). Because there was another quatre on the bed--Maggie, who still sleeps next to my wife's pillow. Life has changed a lot since the new kitty (still unnamed) joined our household last weekend. It's best summarized by the old saying "Never a dull moment." It could cut into my nighttime writing at home, which is done upstairs, at the desktop computer. I do a lot of my computer work after my wife goes to bed, checking on websites, researching this and that, playing games, catching up on your blogs or working on mine. Now, when it's "time to go upstairs," the kitty comes up to join me. Sometimes she sits on the folding chair next to me. That's OK for a couple minutes. But then I hear a "Mrow?" and she steps over onto my lap. Sometimes she lies down. But then she looks up and reaches toward my head with her paws and stretches up into my chest. So I hold her with one arm while piloting the mouse with the other hand. I can navigate websites pretty well with one hand. But it really crimps your style when you're trying to write something. Finally it gets late, and I shut off the computer. "Time to get some sleep," I tell her, and I put her on the chair, while I take my pills. Then we head off to bed. I usually place her on that blue thermal blanket next to my side of the bed, and she stays there for a while. Then, there's a little bump next to me, and kitty is settling down by my side. Sometimes she's by my hip. Other times, by my feet. For all her qualities, Frisky didn't like to be held and cuddled. This one loves it. She rubs up against us and purrs loudly. That's one difference. Another is that this cat has a more extensive vocabulary. She can meow and purr and mrow? and urrrk! and a few other noises that are harder to write. Frisky had a quieter voice and didn't say as many different things. One more thing about this cat that's odd is her coloration. As you have seen from the photos, she's mostly gray. Her feet and tummy are white, and she has a patch of white at her throat. Meanwhile, her tail is nearly black. Her nose is black. One cheek is gray, and the other is white. During the day, she has mostly been camping out on the couch, but she has also been spotted next to my wife's sewing machine--just below an old, old photo of Frisky and Maggie posing on a wooden ladder ... Maggie is still hissing at her at times. An occasional growl. So far, they have not had a physical scrap (at least not that we are aware of). Today is the day we load her back into the cat carrier and take her to the vet, to get the stitches on her tummy removed. She probably won't enjoy that, but hopefully if we hold her maybe she will understand that we won't let anything bad happen to her. **** My winter sports season has come to a rather abrupt end. The girls basketball district tournaments were last week, and both our teams lost, one in the first round and one in the championship game. The boys district tourneys were this week, and the same thing--both lost, one in the semis and one in the finals. Last week, I had four games in four days. Next week, I won't have a thing, and it's going to stay that way for quite a while. The high school spring season (track, golf, tennis) doesn't start until late April. Considering that it was -8F on my way home Wednesday night and that we received another inch or so of snow overnight, it tells me that spring won't be here for a while. So what am I going to do with all my free time? Last night, I worked on taxes--both my son's and my mom's. David made out like a bandit--he was eligible for the earned income credit this year. My mom doesn't have to file and hasn't for years--but if she files a tax return and her Social Security payments for the year were $3,000 or more (they were), she is eligible for that $300 rebate. If any of you are handling business matters for an elderly mom or dad, that's something you may want to keep in mind. Tax tip from Dr. Dog.

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2/25/2008 - New feline in the family

(Since efx2blogs was out of service last night, the good folks at Vox were the first people to see this.) On Saturday, when we took the new member of our family home, she cried all the way. But it's turning out all right. She's not crying any more. Last Saturday, we selected our new cat at the local shelter. You saw her picture from the paper last time, and you'll see some better pictures soon. On Wednesday, she had her spaying and declawing operation. The declawing does cause some pain to the kitty (as does the spaying, I'm sure), so the shelter wanted to keep her until Saturday. We were disappointed, but the shelter said we could come over to visit. That sounded fine with us. So we drove over after lunch Friday, and here is the kitty in her little cubicle, which is a lot smaller than a three-foot cube. She's licking her paw, post-declawing ... We took her into the visiting room, where we held and petted her for about a half hour ... Then we had to go, and I put her back into her cage. She had been there for two months. This was the final night, and the card on the cage had a happy message as she went back to licking her paw ... Saturday, I worked at the office until about noon. Then, I walked home, we grabbed the "pet taxi," got in the car and made our trip to the shelter. I filled out the last of the paperwork and the instructions--the pink stuff on her cage is medication we have to give her three times a day until it's gone. We also got some samples and things we have to send in. Finally, it was time to get the kitty and put her into the pet taxi. But she didn't want to go in. We finally got her in there, but she started meowing. And as we carried her to the car, she kept meowing. All through the trip home, she kept crying. We tried to reassure her that this time she isn't going back to the vet's office. Instead, we parked behind the house, took her and the pet taxi inside, took off our coats and got ready to let her out. But Maggie saw us arrive and seemed to immediately suspect something. She walked right over to the (closed) pet taxi, looked through the grate and started hissing. Then, a growl. We decided it would be a good idea to take the pet taxi into the living room. There, we opened the door, and the kitty walked out into her new home. She walked around, her nose working like mad. We let her do that for a few minutes. Then we decided it was time to start reassuring her that it was nothing to cry about. So I petted her. Then my wife petted her. Then I petted her. Then she did. And I got the camera out. Say cheese, kittycat ... There was a little more hissing and growling between the cats (the new kitty did some growling and hissing, too), but that's as far as it has gone. Sunday, there was less of it. At least until 9 p.m. when they got their dander up. Just hissing and growling. They have to work through it. Meanwhile, the kitty spent a lot of quality time with the two of us, getting petted and loved up. For her part, she did a lot of purring. And her rough little tongue made sure we had nice, clean fingers ... David came over during the day to meet the new kitty, and he stayed around for most of the day. He got his chance to pet her. After supper, we decided among several movies he brought and opted for "The Simpsons." Because of her paws, we were very careful so she would not have to jump down anywhere, and we carried her a lot on Saturday. Sunday, not so much. She was climbing the stairs all right and jumping up onto the couch. Usually, it was when I was sitting there. We still place her on the floor. But her paws seem to be getting better. Yes, I got a chance to spoil the new kitty, too ... See her tummy? That's where she had the operation. Late this week, we have to take her to the vet, to have her stitches removed. That ought to be fun. And so that's how it's been this weekend. I didn't have a lot of writing to do, and that's a good thing because it would have gotten put off. I had other priorities, like getting to know the new kitty a little better. Last night, my wife and Maggie went to bed early, Maggie taking residence on her normal corner of the bed, next to my wife's pillow. I was up for a while, trying to get caught up on blog entries at efx2, with the kitty curled up by my feet. Earlier, my wife found a blue thermal blanket we had gotten from my mom's house, and I laid it out under the window, next to my side of the bed. I placed the kitty there when I went to bed. She stayed for a while. Then she hopped down. During the night, she was up and down a few times. I heard Maggie hissing once or twice. Then it was quiet again. In the morning, she was back on the thermal blanket. She jumped on the bed for a while just before I got up. I adjusted the thermal blanket tonight, moving it about a foot closer to my head, so I can reach out during the night and pet her head if she is there. Right now, it's about 9:30 p.m. and time for the kitty's final dose of medicine for today. I hold the kitty, while my wife uses the eyedropper. She squirms, but she's pretty good about it. We were just saying tonight that those two months in that little cage at the shelter must seem a long time ago now for the newest member of our household. By the way, we aren't referring to her as "Sparkle," her shelter name. No name has been selected yet. We'll come up with something, I'm sure. So far I have referred to her as Invisicat, for her obvious skill in hiding in shadows, but I need something catchier and more clever than that.

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2/22/2008 - The dark side of the moon

(Put on some early Pink Floyd music if you like.) The lunar eclipse took place Wednesday night here in the States. But I had to cover basketball games on four consecutive nights this week, so this is my first free time to do my show and tell. I was reminded of the eclipse as I was driving east to my game and saw the moon rising over the trees ... Yes, the sky was purplish-pink--it was just after sunset. I covered my game and went home. I knew what I wanted to do once I got back--get out my tripod and take some pictures from the back porch. As I neared home, I noted the temperature: -8F (-22C). Well, that's pretty cold, all right, but look: This will be the last lunar eclipse visible here until late 2010. And it wasn't cloudy. I decided I wasn't going to let a little cold get in the way of some pictures. It took some time to get the tripod and camera set up and to remember how to use a remote shutter release. By the time I got my first picture, the eclipse was already well under way. 8:33 p.m. ... 8:47 p.m. ... I had adjusted the shutter speed (faster) to get some of the detail of the moon's surface. Now I adjusted it back (slower speed) to get the orange color of the shadowed lunar surface. 8:53 p.m. ... I was using a 55-200mm zoom lens. Even so, the moon was just a tiny part of the frame. It would have been nice to have a bigger zoom so the moon would really fill up the camera frame, and I wouldn't have to do a lot of enlarging. But that wasn't in the cards. This is the gear I have, so this is what I used. 8:56 p.m. ... Now the lighted part of the moon was really slipping away quickly. 9:01 p.m. ... And by 9:12 p.m., the total phase of the eclipse was under way ... I was also looking around at the stars. Right to my south was Orion, the hunter. Could I get a picture of the constellation? I set the exposure for 20 seconds, pointed the camera in the right direction and pressed the shutter release. The result ... Look at the middle of Orion's "sword," which hangs from his "belt." Those three nearly vertical stars. Right in the middle is the Orion Nebula. I enlarged the picture some more, adjusted the light, and I think I got the nebula ... And if you want to see what the nebula really looks like, check this out. Please take a look. It is really beautiful. The Hubbell space telescope has taken some incredible images. Anyway, by now I was freezing! My hands had gotten really cold, because I had to slip off my gloves from time to time to adjust the camera. Also, my tripod is good--but it's old. I got it about the time I got married. That's a few years ago. So it's hard to adjust the controls, which are a little wonky. Especially when your fingers are getting numb. So after the total eclipse started, I went back inside for a while and warmed up. By the time I went back outside, it was 9:47 p.m., and the total eclipse was nearly over ... I went back inside. I next went out at 10:15 p.m. ... And before taking the final picture at 10:32 p.m., I went to a faster shutter speed to get the moon's surface details again ... So if you missed the eclipse, if you were working, if it was cloudy, if you live on the wrong side of the earth or if you just plain forgot, that's what the eclipse was like. You will be happy, I'm sure, to hear that my hands defrosted nicely.

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2/14/2008 - V day over here

2/10/2008 - A cold, lonely season

2/5/2008 - Film festival gets delayed

2/2/2008 - Memories of Frisky

HELP WANTED One good kittycat. Secure, long-term position in loving home for the right applicant. As you may know, we lost our cat a week ago Saturday. We were sad, of course, but we are doing a lot better. We have already decided that we will be getting another kitten/cat from our local shelter--once we get over the hurt of Frisky's death a little more. Frisky, after all, was no ordinary cat. No indeed! She had many talents and skills, some learned, some picked up over the years. She definitely had a personality. She liked to climb and explore. Did not like to be held. She would tolerate being held for a while, but then she would "get springs," as my wife called it. Many times I would see a little scratch on her breast, the legacy of Frisky's kicking feet when she felt she had been held too long and my wife didn't get the hint in time. Her last little scratch is fading away and getting hard to see. I never got a picture of that. I never got a picture of her helping my wife read in bed. She would get in bed with a good book and Frisky under her arm. While she did not being held, she didn't seem to mind that, and when I came in to kiss her (my wife, that is) good-night, I would keep my distance if Frisky was there--lest she decide to run off. The first nine or so years of Frisky's life with us were not documented, not be me, at least. But once I got my first digital camera in 2001, Frisky was a favorite subject. I used photography to document Frisky's many talents. These photos are in approximately chronological order. She was very good at holding down the bed. Especially stacks of freshly folded towels ... While I never got a picture of her "helping my wife read," I did get this picture of her on the pillow ... On Christmas Eve 2001, she posed very nicely on the post at the bottom of the staircase. That's Maggie closer to the camera ... Frisky was very good about testing the quality of the different pieces of clothing we buy. All we had to do was place it somewhere flat, and she would be quick to try it out ... How to get Frisky to come out of hiding? Very, very easy, and it didn't involve opening tuna cans. All my wife had to do was hold up her slicker brush, and Frisky would jump up. She loved her slicker brush ... Whenever we had vanilla ice cream, she was very good about helping finish off the melted cream at the bottom of the bowl. Waste not, want not ... I never got a picture of one of Frisky's strangest habits. Shoestrings. Honest! When there was an discarded shoestring in the house, she would take it and carry it around in her mouth--while meowing with a closed mouth. I don't know how many times we were in bed and suddenly hear a meow, meow off in the distance. It would be Frisky, climbing the steps with a shoestring in her mouth. After she died, my wife told me the time she was replacing zippers in my jacket and several others. Frisky claimed the old zipper from my jacket--picking it out among the others--and started carrying it. Also, when I got home from work in the late afternoon and changed shirts or took off a sweater and left it on the bed, Frisky soon would be curled up on it. So when we went out of town for a day or two or three, we would leave an unwashed shirt or two on the bed. When we came back, we could see Frisky had been lying on it. It had our scent, you see. Here, Frisky (and Maggie, too, for that matter) helped my wife show off some of her quilts. She was always ready to get her ears scratched ... She also helped us at Christmas time, inspecting my wife's new wreath ... And when a mouse found its way into the house ... you might as well turn off the TV, because you'll never see anything more entertaining than that. It was the four C's: chase, command, conquer and consume. In this picture, we are at the conquer stage ... She would come around to visit sometimes while we were watching TV, and one night she found her own special vantage point. Her skybox, you might say. We kept it up after that ... until last week, when I took it down. It was too hard to look at it... Would you believe that Frisky was able to look in two directions simultaneously? I know it sounds impossible, but you can't argue with pictures ... Here, Frisky helps my wife get a few extra winks in the morning ... By now, I had a new camera, and the Frisky pictures got a little better. It helped me get a picture of her next to my wife, getting her tummy rubbed. She loved that, too ... It was spring, and the smell of fresh, new, young grass was in the air. Frisky would put her paws on the front door screen and look outside, so we moved a kitchen chair for her convenience ... That is the season for "grass parties"--when my wife would take several blades of fresh new grass inside. The cats were all excited, meowing happily. Here, Frisky is hooking down my wife's hand with her paw so the grass will be closer... Frisky was never interested in going outside, though. We never had to worry about that. Last April, though, a rare moment: My wife carried Frisky out onto the back porch ... Those are all treasured memories, and we have many more. We will get another cat. That much is definite. But we are realistic. Frisky was unique, and they broke the mold with her. Our new cat will be unique in his/her own ways. That is as it should be. And we will love him/her. That is how it should be, also. With our history, the cat who decides to adopt us will be part of our family into the 2020s.

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1/30/2008 - In search of terrycloth

1/27/2008 - Heaven gets a good kitty