The Madison trip, part 3

The final day of our visit to Madison was the stormiest one. But more about that later.

Saturday was a busy one. We had the farmers market, state Capitol tour, lots of cows, a crazy deli for lunch and a baseball game capped with fireworks.



Makes for a busy, exhausting Saturday. On Sunday morning, we got up, had breakfast and then got in the car heading for the state Capitol again. Our goal: to find more picturesque cows. Plus, K was giving her dogs some good exercise--they came along for the trip, and one of them (the cocker) parked himself in the front seat, since we sat together in the back seat. I think he's laughing at me here.



There was no farmers market on Sunday, but there was a bicycle race going through the downtown area, with streets blocked off. One funny thing I noticed--well, I had never been to a bicycle race before--is that they had mattresses tied around the trees on the outsides of turns, in case a rider swings too far to the outside.



We found our way to the Capitol and then to Martin Luther King Jr. St., where a herd that we hadn't seen before was grazing. (On Saturday, we found a guide that showed where to find all the cows.)

Another sunny morning, with some cumulus clouds. We walked up and down the street, taking pictures, and spotted other cows near the Capitol building, so we crossed over there.



As we walked around, I saw some people near the Capitol building itself. Could it be open on Sunday, too?

Of course, I was still stewing about the Liberty Bell replica I had forgotten about during the tour 24 hours earlier. I thought I had blown that, but good! But we tried. We went to the revolving door, pushed it--and it moved. We were inside again.

I thought it was on the ground floor, but it wasn't. Up a double flight of steps to the main floor, and there it was.



This is a replica--an exact copy of the original except for the crack. It was cast in the early 1950s, one for each state, by a Paris company, and everything--the size, the weight, the metal--was the same. I rapped on it with my knuckles, and it made a soft "bong" sound. Of course I was thrilled, and the camera went to work. This plaque gives the bell's background.



It was getting close to noon. We headed back towards K's place, dropped off the dogs and went to a bagel place for lunch. Then back to the apartment, packed our gear in the car, had some good-bye hugs and hit the road.

The clouds had been building during the morning, and we saw some dark gray skies as we were leaving. The Weather Channel radar indicated that the storm wasn't moving our way--rather, we were moving its way.

Before long, there it was. Heavy rain, a flash or two of lightning and a little hail. For a minute or two I wondered whether to pull over--but since the storm wasn't moving, we might have had to stay for a while. We kept going and eventually drove out of it. For the rest of the trip home, it was cloudy with a little drizzle but no rain. Of course, no rain back home--there had been just a short shower all the time we were gone.

***

So that's the end of the Madison saga. It went by too quickly, and we're looking forward to the next time we can visit, to see more of the big city. We had a few places we wanted to see and couldn't, so they'll be added to the list for next time. Whenever "next time" is.

I haven't shown you many of the cows, have I? Well, I wanted to get the narrative written first--we saw a lot of other interesting stuff, too, you know. But now let's talk cows.

Chandramoon, in her comment about the first part of the story, was dead-on. It's called CowParade, an international public art exhibit that has been held in many cities around the world in recent years. This year, they are in Boston, Denver, Buenos Aires, Mexico City and Sao Paulo in the Americas; in Paris, Lisbon, Edinburgh, Athens and Moscow in Europe; it's been in Asia, too (though not in Bangkok, according to Wikipedia).

Imagination runs wild at CowParade. Like a stampede of imagination.



As part of CowParade, local artists get to put their take on local culture, and in Wisconsin it's the dairy industry; its local sponsor is the Wisconsin Milk Marketing Board. In November, about 50 of the cows will be auctioned off to help build the new American Family Children's Hospital in Madison.

Amazingly, I never found one wearing a Packers uniform and a cheesehead. But there were plenty from the University of Wisconsin (of course), and the Milwaukee Brewers had a cow in a Brewers uniform.



That ends the story of the Madison trip, but there is one final entry to come. An all-cows edition, coming soon.

(Moooooooo!)

Madison trip, part 2

Day 2 of the trip was Saturday. We slept a little later than normal (it's vacation, after all!), enjoyed a nice breakfast of fruit and toast and then headed downtown again. Our destination: the state Capitol.

On summer Saturdays in Madison, they have a farmers market on the sidewalks around the Capitol, and it's a big event. Lots of people, lots of booths, selling veggie items, kettle corn, flowers, ethnic foods. It's mostly veggie time. K said we would want to go counter-clockwise around the sidewalk, and once I got there, I could see why. For some reason, most of the traffic goes counter-clockwise. I only got one picture of the farmers market, so this will have to do.



I was distracted by the cows (scattered here and there). Here's one taken across the street. Seems like this one brought some of his buddies along. Much, much more about the cows later.



The Capitol itself was a bigger distraction. There were people, grown-ups and kids, lounging on the lawn, watching the farmers market spectacle and generally enjoying a beautiful morning. At the corner of the block, I turned around and saw this statue. This is "Forward," and the plaque reads "Forward: Wisconsin's Women's Memorial of the Columbian Exposition, 1898."



We climbed the steps (saw more cows up there, after all), and I took a picture of the statue atop the Capitol's dome. It's called "Wisconsin," and she has a badger on the top of her head. See for yourself.



Then, near the building, we saw people going in and out. Can we get inside on a Saturday? The revolving door worked, and we were walking down a corridor of Wisconsin's state Capitol. Then we were at the center and looked up inside the dome.



Here's what the telephoto lens showed of that picture in the middle.



Our arrival coincided with the start of a guided tour of the building. "Are you interested?" I asked. They were. So was I. She pointed out a replica of the Liberty Bell, and I made a mental note to take a longer look later.

We saw many things. The state supreme court. The state senate. The assembly. A bust of Fighting Bob LaFollette, the Progressive leader from the 1920s. And badgers here and there all over--looking down from the top of the arch over each wing of the building.



Once the tour ended, they showed us how to climb up to the observation deck, at the base of the dome. We got close up looks of some impressive statues and a great view of Madison.



After the tour, we walked up and down some of the streets, looking at the shops and street vendors, taking pictures of more cows. Lots of quirky little shops in Madison. Oh, if we didn't have a parking meter ticking away five blocks away! One shop had this statue in the front window. "Girls Gone Wild--Wisconsin Edition."



Whew! We were tired. And it was only 1:30 p.m. But the sensory overload wasn't stopping. K took us to Ella's Deli, a place with mechanical contraptions all over the place, often passing back and forth on wires above us. They had Batman, Harry Potter, Superman, Bart Simpson on his skateboard, Noah's ark and Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, among others.



And each of the tables were different. Ours had an ants-and-grasshopper theme.



Plus the food was great.

We went back home and relaxed a bit. Then, off to see the Madison Mallards play. The Mallards play in the North Woods League, which is a summer league for college-eligible players. They don't get paid, but they get to play with wooden bats (like in the major and minor leagues) and travel in buses to games out of town. In short, an introductory course to what life is like in the minors, which is what all of them hope to do after college.



But I was a little tired, and their PA announcer was too much of a showboat. In the end, the Mallards defeated the Alexandria (Minn.) Beetles 3-2. Yes, it was "Beetles" night--they had a karaoke band doing Beatles songs, and they were absolutely abysmal. You really had to know the Beatles' music to figure out what they were singing. Or trying to.

They had fireworks after the game, but they weren't any great shakes. Saw a much better show at the minor league game in Beloit a few years ago. (Still haven't written that part of my 2004 baseball trip yet. I will.)

So passed Day 2 of the Madison trip. We were all pretty tired by the time we got home, and bed felt so good. And as I was drifting off to sleep, it came to me ...

Damn! I forgot all about seeing the Liberty Bell! Damn! Damn! Damn!

(To be continued)

All about a blue blouse

I'll continue the Madison epic Wednesday night. Wife and I went out of town this afternoon to see my mom, and she asked us to free her from the nursing home for a few hours so we could have dinner together.

So we went to K-mart (she got her peanut butter cookies; couldn't find any anise candies--I'm supposed to track them down online) and then to Hardee's, where she had half a chicken sandwich (I consumed the other half) and a strawberry shake (which she polished off solo). We drove around for a while and then took her back "home."

Bottom line, I got home after 8:30, three hours later than expected, so that kind of shoots the available time tonight.

I was quiet on the drive home, and I'll tell you why. A familiar story.

You need to know that my wife is very conservative in most of her habits. Let's just say that I'm not. I had to laugh one time. Appears she had taken an online questionnaire about sex--I came across it later--and her rating was "When did they wire the convent?" Sex is one way, and clothing is another.

Anyway ... one of the thing I have been trying to do this summer is buy her some summer clothes that are lightweight and loose. Today, at K-mart, I thought I spotted a good one. A long-sleeved peacock blue shirt, loose sleeves and body, with gold embroidery around the neck and sleeves. Really pretty one. I thought this would be great for her, with our trip to the pagan fest this weekend in mind. Wearing that, she wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb.

I mean, she dresses like an old woman. An old woman. And some old women I know dress a lot nicer. Just a fixation on ugly, plain, drab clothes.

I suppose I knew how she was going to react, but I thought I'd try anyway. I led her over there and showed her the top. Showed her there was a black version, too, and that they had both in her size. "I don't know," she said. "I'll think about it!"

Innocuous words, but that's because you haven't lived with her for decades. If you did, you would know that "I'll think about it" translates as "I don't think so." I was hoping she would say "Maybe" because "Maybe" usually means "Yes." Or "Yes, but persuade me a litle more."

Anyway, we had already finished our shopping there--my mom had found her cookies--and were ready to check out. If she thought about it again (which I doubt), it would be after we had left for home, 50 miles away.

Sometimes I mentally throw up my hands in exasperation. Why?

That pagan fest is this weekend--leaving Saturday morning and returning on Tuesday. As far as I know, she still plans to go along. Not that she seems that interested. It's just that, she says, she's going so she can be with me. As a little puppy following me everywhere?

I have tried to explain to her that this is a gathering of people who (A) have a very positive attitude about sex; who (B) enjoy sex (heavens!); and (C) also believe in responsible non-monogamy. They are (D) not afraid of the human body and (E) feel everyone should do what makes them happy as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else and isn't self-destructive.

Maybe I'm worrying about nothing, but I don't think so. I wrote to someone else tonight about this, and said, "I really wonder whether she can free herself from her hangups enough to enjoy herself. Time will tell."

God knows I have tried my best to help nudge her in a different direction, but my best just isn't good enough. Bottom line seems to be: She's happy being the way she is, so maybe I should just let her be happy.

Fair enough. But don't expect me to be content with being miserable. As I like to quote Popeye: "I yam wot I yam."

Madison visit, Part 1

The emergency messages were flashing in my head, and the warning buzzer was sounding: "Sensory Overload! Sensory Overload!"

That was happening just halfway through our visit to Madison over the weekend. It was just a couple of days, but what a few days!

My wife and I had talked about visiting Madison this summer--we originally talked about Duluth (where we visited in '04) but then got interested in Madison--and I had mentioned this in an e-mail to K. She got excited at the idea and invited us to visit and stay at her place. A few e-mails later, we decided it would be that weekend. This only started a few days before, so plans were very haphazard. It was a free-form visit.

We stayed at K's place. She insisted we sleep in her bedroom, despite our protests. So she can be with her dogs, she said, while sleeping on the couch. We arrived at about 3 p.m. Friday, talked for a while and then made the first of a number of downtown Madison trips. First, off to a top pizza place, the Greenbush Inn, located in a former Italian-American hall.



The ceilings were low, but the pizza was great. Loved it, but we had to move on.

Next stop was the botanical gardens--both my wife and K are big on flowers. We enjoyed walking through the lovely blooms as the sun got lower in the sky.




But K was saying there's something you've got to see! She led us down paths, until finally, through an opening, I could see our destination ...



It is a Thai garden palace, one of several kinds they have. And look at that roof! It shines like gold because it is. The palace was a gift from Thailand to an alumni association, and it was erected a few years ago. The plane that took the materials to Chicago was one of the last to land on 9/11.

Lovely. Alas, I had dawdled too long, taking pictures along the way, and the palace was just slipping into the shade when we got there. Still time to look it all over and (of course) get a few pictures.



On the way home, we saw some unusual cows in a park along the lakeshore. The first of many we would see during our visit. Much, much, much more on cows later.



Went home and watched an episode of "You Bet Your Life," Groucho Marx's TV show from the '50s. Then, part of a Rolling Stones concert DVD. But we were getting tired and called it a day. Friday was just the start. In the morning, it would be Saturday and more amazing sights.

(to be continued)

Back home

Hi. We left for our trip to Madison at 9 a.m. Friday and got home at 9 p.m. Sunday. The drive was six hours each way. Drove through a heavy thunderstorm on the way home--well, heavy for around here, with heavy rain and a little hail. Mostly rain. After a while, we drove out of it and had no problems after that.

Between the drives we had a lot of fun and some memorable experiences. The camera was very busy with gardens, a pagoda, the state capitol, a baseball game and lots and lots of very artistic cows.

But it's late and I'm feeling pretty sleepy, so I'll leave you on that tantalizing note. Hope to write more about it on Monday. There's lots to tell and show. And I'll warn you right now--it's going to take a while.

Traveling itch to be scratched

As the robin family departs our lives, it's time for some adventures out of town. Yes, I am finally getting out of town. Aside from the visit to the Ojibwe museum and all the trips to my mom, we haven't been anywhere this summer so far.

That's going to change. Boy, is it ever!

We had been talking about a visit to Madison, WI, and it happens that is where one of my lady friends, K, has moved. I recently told her about the plans to see Madison this summer, and she wrote back early this week, inviting us to stay at her apartment. If we come over the weekend, she'll take us around to see some of the sights.

After looking at our plans and events I have to cover back home, we had to decide between either making last-minute plans for this weekend or else waiting until late July. We're going for this weekend.

A factor in this is that I wanted to get this done in June (usually the lightest month of the year for me, work-wise) and also because the weather is supposed to be mild (highs in the upper 70s) in Madison this weekend. In late July, we'd be daring the weatherman to send mid 90s temperatures to Mad Town, and our U.P. bodies have a limited tolerance for extreme heat.

No, thank you. A bird in the hand is just fine with me.

That was just decided yesterday, giving us two days to make our physical and mental preparations for the journey. That's easy for me, not so easy for my wife, but she's willing to go. Besides, she wants to see Madison a lot, and K knows some good places. And K sounds very eager to have us stay there. It may be hectic, but it should also be a blast. We're leaving Friday morning and getting back home Sunday night. Yeah, just a weekend.

Then, one week later, we're off on another odyssey. This time the destination is that neopagan event in southern Wisconsin, where we will be camping in the woods four days and three nights. It's my second time there and her first. (She was there last summer for a one-day event.)

Frankly, I'm not absolutely sure how I feel about it. I asked her to go because I enjoyed my time there last year so much, and I'm trying to get her to adopt that way of thinking: the divine is in all of us, love is all, responsible non-monogamy. So when it became clear that she was thinking about it, I was happy.

Then she said the reason she decided to go was so she could be with me. That can be good or not so good. I want her to meet and get to know others, maybe make a few friends. I do not want her to be a puppy dog, following me wherever I go. We'll have a lot of time together, as it is, anyway.

Other concerns: (1) She has not camped out for many years, and living in a tent may be a bit of a strain, although we are trying to anticipate everything. We're not taking cooking gear, so we likely will head to town for some meals. (2) In her personal habits, dress and sexuality, she is extremely timid, cautious and unadventurous. In short, about the opposite of many of the other women who were there last year. So is she going to be a wallflower? Or is she going to be a part of things?

Well, of course you know what I'm hoping: that this will open a whole new world for her, one that she will be happy to embrace and join me in it. Back home, she can go back to all the activities that she does now at church. But I really want to unlock her mind from the dungeon of its conservative upbringing. If we can do that, it will be quite an accomplishment.

****

Long-time readers (back in the MB days) know about S and that I met her during last year's event. For what it's worth, S won't be there this year. She is back with her husband in Wisconsin and is trying to make a go with him again. It sounds like he is trying very hard to be more understanding, so I am doing my bit to help it succeed by staying away. (We haven't met in the last six months; have just been trading e-mails since December.)

They are going to go to Starwood this summer, and for S's husband, with his very conservative religious beliefs, to bend that much, something good must be happening. Time will tell.

Anyway, these are going to be busy weekends coming up. Somehow I'll try to keep in touch with all you guys here.

I am writing this mainly as an experiment. So let's put on the lab coats.

This experiment is to see how the "permissions" feature works. There are some things that I don't want to tell to everybody who stops by here. And since you are reading these words (assuming I did everything correctly), that means you are among the "lucky" few with buddy status.

I just want to express a quick thought about Father's Day. Some people have commented about Father's Day--about how little fuss is made about it in comparison to Mother's Day, an event that I always invest some money on. I expressed my views in at least one blog comment.

And sure enough ...

On Sunday, exactly one person wished me Happy Father's Day. That was the checkout clerk at the store, where I had to run and pick something up. Aside from her, the day was totally unnoticed/unobserved/unmentioned by anyone in the family.

It's not a big deal, I know, and it's happened before many times. But it still hurts.

"Where's Mom???"

"Where's mom?"
"I dunno. Do you know?"
"I dunno. Do you know?"
"Where's mom?"
"Let's get way up and maybe we can see her. You look south, you look north and I'll look east. Ready?"



"I thouht I told you to look north! Now you ruined it!"
"Did you see her?"
"I didn't see her. Did you see her?"
"I didn't see her."
"I thought I heard her say it was nearly lunchtime."
"It's always lunchtime, guys. I'm getting hungry!"
"I'm real hungry!"
"I'm hungrier than you!"
"I'm the hungriest little robin. When's mom getting home?"
"Maybe if we all call out for her she'll come back."
(All) "Mom!!! Mom!!! Mom!!! We're hungry!!!"



"Maybe mom went to McDonald's!"
"I hope she got me a Happy Meal!"
"I want a cheeseburger and french fries!"
"I want a chocolate shake!"
"Hey, look!!! There's mom!!! And she brought home lunch!!! Mom!!! Mom!!!"



"Whatcha get me? Whatcha get?"



"Aw, Mom, you're the greatest!!!"

****

Ah, those scenes of domestic life. But they are ending very soon. The gang is breaking up. On Saturday morning (the last three pictures above), the whole gang was there. That evening, it was not quite so crowded.



And now, this evening, there was one little bird left on the nest--my first visit, mirror in hand, in several days. One of them flew off when I got near. The gang is breaking up. The kids have to try their wings in the world.

So it seems that our two busy weeks with the robin family as guests is nearly over. But they were nice guests and certainly picturesque.

Otherwise, it was a quiet weekend, marked by a hot and humid Saturday. We had some rain but, of course, no storms. We don't get storms where we live. They must have passed a law against thunderstorms.

Sunday was a bit cooler and much less humid. We marked the occasion by having a cookout for dinner. Mmmm! Bratwursts!

A trip back in time

It's a hot one here today. The heat and humidity has finally caught up with us. Temperatures are in the mid 80s, with dew points in the mid 60s.

We are home today, trying to beat the heat. A good time to tell you about our visit to the Indian museum a week or so ago.

This was in Lac du Flambeau, WI, about 75 miles away. We had seen fliers about the museum and decided we wanted to see for ourselves.

I have always been interested in the Ojibwe culture that existed here before the Europeans arrived in the 19th century. I have some books about the Ojibwe life and culture, and I've been to a powwow or two. Exceptionally colorful events. If you ever have a chance, you'll never regret the time and effort it takes to go to a powwow. I plan to provide proof of that later this summer.

The museum was quiet. It was a weekday, so not many were there, and we had plenty of chance to walk the halls and study everything to our hearts' content.



That's the main hall. The museum is built in a circle, just as the circle of life, with dioramas for each of the seasons in the middle. This is summer.



The description of summer is beautiful. You will get to read it a little later.

Here are some canoes. The one on the wall was built in the 1930s. The large one at the bottom was recovered from the bottom of a lake about 30 years ago (they deliberately sunk their canoes in winter, to better preserve them), and it is estimated to be from between 1750 and 1850.



And then, when it comes to craftsmanship and clothing ... It's amazing, beautiful stuff. Look at this basket, which was made in the last century.



To be specific, it was made in 1999. (Last century, right?)

Then the clothing. Look at this display.



Isn't that something? Here is a display of moccasins and gloves. You can't get stuff like this at the mall, at any price.



Fascinating place. The Ojibwes, if you don't know, originally were in upstate New York but were forced to move to our region by the government and settlers, as part of treaties. They were also called the Chippewas. They called themselves "Anishanabe," which means "the people."

Once "civilization" caught up to them, they set up "Indian schools" for their children. Here is what one display said about them:

The Bureau of Indian Affairs Boarding School opened in Lac du Flambeau in 1895. These government boarding schools were operated throughout the United States. A part of their charge was the forced assimilation of Native People into the dominant European American culture. Children were removed from their families at the age of five through their teens and were boarded in the school. Their Ojibwe language was forbidden (the children were punished if caught), the boys' hair was cut short, they were not allowed to wear traditional clothing, and all other Native traditions were to be eradicated. The class work was aimed at teaching industrial arts to the boys and domestic arts to the girls. These policies had a tremendous long-term negative impact on the children and their families. It was not until the administration of Franklin D. Roosevelt in the 1930s that this policy was reversed and the boarding schools were encouraged and indeed allowed to teach and promote the teaching of Native Culture to the students. The school closed after the enactment of the Indian Reorganization Act of 1934.

Now we're in summer, and from the description by the summer display, it sounds like a paradise on earth.

"Nii bin -- Summer" A time for pow-wow and games, planting gardens, gathering berries and herbs, making canoes and tanning hides. When the snow is off the ground, families come together in villages near clear bodies of water in places suitable for both fishing and traditional berry and garden patches. After the family settles into its summer bark or reed mat-covered shelter, the food pit is open to retrieve seed corn and pumpkin and squash seeds stored from the autumn before. Each family cultivates its own plot of ground. Corn planted in the strawberry moon is harvested in the late summer, often still green as the climate may not allow it to ripen. Families dried part of each crop for storage. Berries are plentiful--first strawberries and then juneberries, raspberries, blackberries, blueberries and cranberries as the season wears on. The berries are eaten fresh every day and are also dried and packed into makuks for winter. Some are pounded and pressed into little cakes, while raspberries are boiled into a thick paste. Hot or cold drinks are made by adding wintergreen, raspberries, spruce or snowberry leaves to water. The days are long, the sun warm, and there is plenty to eat. It is a time for visiting with friends, holding feasts and dances and playful games. In every sense, nii bin is a time for gathering.

How could you possibly imagine anything better than that?

Updates from around home

I'm getting a little tired (wonder why; it's only 11:20 p.m.), so I'm going to keep this wrapup of recent events fairly short. ("Fairly," of course, is a relative term, and "short" is in the eye of the beholder.)

The big thing this week was Thursday, when my wife and I took the afternoon off and visited an Indian museum about an hour and a half away. But I'll do that one up in a few days; it'll be worth the wait. This time, a few quick updates from around home.

OK, everybody wants to know about the robins, right? We were going to get another picture this evening, and that, of course, means moving one of our kitchen chairs to the front porch, where the nest is located. Tonight, as I took it out the door and set it down, it made a bump. Immediately, a little head popped up.



It was funny, but my wife wasn't there. I called her outside. "Watch," I said as I bumped the chair again. The little head popped up again. She laughed. "He's saying, 'I'm the hungriest! Feed me first!'"

We did it one or two more times, and then we moved the chair over to get our picture and get out of there. We want to disturb the robin family as little as possible. As you see, the fourth egg has hatched, and the nest is getting crowded.



We've got a frost warning overnight, so mother robin is going to be on her nest to protect her little guys.

Also, Zarafa asked about the sunflowers. The sunflower saga started (as you may remember) in late March when my wife started them in an improvised greenhouse--a sub sandwich container she got at the store.



The first batch died (lesson learned: saunalike conditions are no good for baby sunflowers), so she planted a second batch. This is them in mid April.



And by the end of April, as we got into some warmer weather, they got moved to tomato sauce cans and were sun-bathing on the back porch.



She recently moved them outside for good, and that's where they are now. Here are some of them in a photo taken Friday afternoon. Some are easier to see than others, but there are six (of varying heights) all together.



The ruler says the biggest ones are about 18 inches tall. Our sunflower bed is under the kitchen window, in the back yard, but it's a little disorganized. She planted them and some marigolds in some holes she cut in the grass, but there is still grass between the holes, and we haven't really resolved how we're going to handle that. You'll be glad to know (I know my wife was) that all the sunflowers survived my first lawn-mowing after their planting.

One more photo. We went to take my mom to a doctor's appointment on Tuesday. Things went well, and we had dodged the rain most of the day. It was raining a little on the way back home when I spotted something on the road shoulder. Yes, the same highway as before. So I turned around for a second look, and it was what I thought it was. Rain or no rain, I wasn't going to miss this kind of a photo opportunity. Say cheese!



That's all for this time. Weekend plans? Fairly quiet. I've got to do some clean-up work at home--we're having an electrician come in to put in some more outlets in our bedroom and the computer room. Would you believe there's just one outlet in the bedroom? And we've been in this house for 15 or so years.

Plus World Cup and College World Series games. Gotta fit them in, too. Right now, I'd better get to bed. England vs. Paraguay at 8 a.m., and it's past midnight already.

The real headline

News headlines all over the world today--as they should be printed:

Al-ZARQWI DIES, GOES TO HELL

I'm a generous and understanding guy, and don't wish the fire and brimstone treatment for too many people, but this fellow richly deserves it. I don't know what the Muslims believe about the Afterlife, but for the way he has perverted the Quran's teachings and for how his minions have left only death and destruction in their wake, I can't think of anyone more deserving.

Well, yes I can.

Let's all turn Republican!

If you're an American and if you think, the news from Washington may get you pretty down at times. Sometimes the news is very depressing. It's been that way for the last five years.

Tonight I stumbled upon a solution. How to feel happier about life. How to not let the news ruin your day and mood. How to feel that you're not the only thinking person in our country.

And the solution is very simple: Simply give up and turn Republican. If you don't believe me, take a look at this!

You'll thank me for this.

Where's mom?

Aw, crap! I have to write this post all over again! Damn! And other colorful words like that ... but you get the picture already.

That means I have to remember how I started. If I can pull that together, maybe I can zip it out anyway. Let me think for a moment ...

...

When I left for work this morning, I looked over to check on the nest and mother robin. She wasn't there. When I came home from work late in the afternoon, she wasn't there. When I left to cover a Little League game this evening, I took a quick look. She wasn't there. When I got home about an hour and a half later, she wasn't around then, either.

It doesn't take much for me to start worrying. Has some disaster befallen this little family of summertime visitors? After the first period of the Stanley Cup game this evening, I couldn't stand the uncertainty any longer. I grabbed the kitchen chair and asked my wife where her little mirror was.

You know the drill by now. Chair out to the porch. I climb up, get the mirror from my wife, hold it in my left and and hold the camera in the right hand. Here is what the mirror told us ...



Now we have three eggs hatched, and three little tiny guys in the nest! Only one egg to go. (What do they do with the eggshells, anyway?) That also explains mother robin's absence. She is out, scrounging around in the yard, looking for food for her hungry and growing brood. She's going to be one busy bird, because those little guys like to eat. And we're going to be hearing baby bird symphonies pretty regularly. Four-part harmony, even!

Oops. I made too much noise. Woke someone up.



So everything had a happy ending. When I went upstairs at about 10:30 tonight, I took one last look at the nest. There was mother robin at her station, keeping her little guys nice and warm.

The weather forecast says some storms heading east from Minnesota could be arriving here in the early morning hours. If they do, I know one family of robins that is going to be nice and safe and dry. Our porch has one big advantage over trees for nesting birds.

* * * * *

I want to give you an update on my wife's sunflowers, which I haven't done for a while. I've taken a few pictures but didn't post them.

The sunflowers are on their own now. Over the weekend, she transferred them from little tomato sauce cans to the back yard, just below the kitchen window. I'm estimating them to be about six inches high.

The position is important. They are just in front of the south wall of the house, and the light reflected off the white wall is going to give them some extra solar energy. I'm getting the feeling we'll see a lot of sun this summer. Of course, I'm going to have to be real careful when I mow the lawn. And it needs mowing.

I was going to mow it tonight, except that I got home from work late, then had to cover that Little League game, and when I got back, it was time for the Stanley Cup game to start.

It started out well for Edmonton but ended disastrously. Not only did they give up their lead in the third period, but their goalie, Roloson, who had played so well all through the playoffs, hurt a leg late in the game, and the word is that he will miss the rest of the season. A bad break for the Oilers on a bad knee sprain by Roloson. Grrr.

...

OK. I think I remembered everything I wanted to say. Getting tired. Need. Sleep. Must. Stop.

Oh, by the way, happy 6-6-06, everyone! I wonder if our hyper religious types are expecting disaster to strike today or something related to the end of the world. Too tired to write anything clever about it now.

Summertime visitors

My wife and I had two kids. Phil left after graduating from high school in 1995 and never really returned--he had summer jobs out of town while in college and took a job in the Detroit area just after graduating in 1999. David moved out last summer, and since then it's just been my wife and I at home.

But not any longer. At least for a while. We've got company!

Last Tuesday, after getting back from last weekend's trip, I was leaving home to walk to work when I noticed something in a corner of our open-air porch at the front of the house ...



The next day, its occupant was home.



But was the robin by herself? Or is there more to the story than we could see?

Today, curiosity got the better of us. We had decided to hold the first cookout of the summer, which meant we had to move the gas grill from its winter home on the front porch to the back porch, where it spends its summers.

As I went out there, I glanced up at the nest and saw that the robin was gone. Now's the time, I told my wife. I got on my knees on the side of the porch but decided that wasn't stable enough. Instead I got a chair from the kitchen, carried it outside, hopped up there--with camera in hand--to see what I could see.

I still wasn't high enough where I could look in directly. So I reached the camera up above my head, pointed it slightly down into the nest, got it focused and fired ...



That's what I expected to see: a robin egg. But what's that pink thing next to it? Then that light bulb flashed over my head. My wife has an old hand mirror in another room. Suppose we use that to see what's inside the nest.

My wife hopped up on the chair first, but she's too short to hold the mirror above the nest. So it was my turn. I reached up with the mirror in my left hand while holding the camera my the right hand. And the reflection revealed the rest of the story ...



Three eggs, not one! And that pink thing? Whatever it was, its mouth was wide open for a moment or two. Then then it fell down again. One hatched and three still to come.

Here's an enlarged version of the last picture.



So maybe we're going to have a big family sharing our summer with us. Including a very busy mother. Time will tell.

* * * * *

The spring sports season ended Saturday at the track finals. Some of our kids were running in the first race, at 9 a.m., so I had to get going by 7:30 to get there in time. But for once, I had planned things in advance and remembered to take along a fanny pack (in which to store extra batteries, notebooks and such) and some sunblock.

As you can see from the photo of the robin's nest, I need to use sunblock. That's the kind of skin I have.

Amazing, isn't it, how well that stuff works when you remember to put it on! There wasn't a cloud in the sky in the morning--it became partly cloudy in the afternoon, but the sun was out most of the time. A really beautiful day. Not too hot. Not too cool. Not too humid. Not too windy. By 10:30, it was time to give myself a good coating. Both arms, my neck, my cheeks and ears. I was wearing a wide-brimmed hat, but I remembered to take care of my nose, too.

Result: no sunburn. Several others at the meet borrowed it, and I hope it worked as well for them as it did for me.

Today, as I said earlier, it was time for our first cookout of the summer. I love brats (not bratty children; it's pronounced "brawts", Lady V) cooked in the gas grill, and we decided this would be a good supper for a Sunday evening by ourselves.

Dinner hour came. I got the grill hooked up to the tank, turned the valve and tried to light the grill. No go. No action at all. The tank felt light when I picked up, and now I knew why: no LP gas inside. So I unhooked it and drove to a gas station, where they handle cylinder exchanges. Drove back home, hooked up the new tank, turned the valve, pushed the button and heard a satisfying Whoosh! as the gas ignited. Fine. I let it sit for a few minutes, then put on the brats and let the grill do its thing. After a few minutes, I turned them. Then I turned them again. Odd. Maybe I turned the gas down too far. Not making much progress.

It took me 10 full minutes to realize I wasn't making ANY progress. It seems that in my haste to get started, I hadn't connected the valve on the new tank completely, and the gas was cut off to the grill. Grr.

So I tightened the valve, turned the knob, pushed the button and Whoosh! We're in business again. This time, the heat ripples kept coming, the brats started sizzling, and soon we had a nice supper.

First cookout of the summer. We made a mistake or two, but now that I remember how, future cookouts should go a lot more smoothly. Practice makes perfect.