Christmas in June

On our recent trip to Canada (the Canada part of the story is still to come), I got to fulfill a pledge I had made a long time ago, on some dead or dying blog or another: I saw Christmas in June.

It's about a five-hour drive from our home to Sault Ste. Marie and the International Bridge. We went via Marquette, and less than an hour past the Upper Peninsula's largest city (population almost 20,000) we entered Christmas. How could you miss it? ...

There are various places around the country that try to capitalize on holiday-inspired names. Christmas. Santa Claus. St. Nicholas. North Pole. They do so with varying amounts of success, especially in this more cynical era. But it's tourism, you know, and souvenir shops. A few dollars change hands. There are certain places where it's Christmas 365 days a year, and this is one of them.

We first came upon a motel that didn't look very busy, regardless of what the sign in front says. Note the bow on the gift-shaped sign ...

The unmown lawn and the gravel in the driveway both indicated that it's been pretty quiet at the Christmas Motel for a while.

A little later, we came upon the Christmas Mall. Alas, it also looked like it has seen better days. For example, how did Mrs. Claus lose her head? ...

And as you see on the right, you can get your eggnog or whatever you fancy in Christmas.

I felt sorry for Mrs. Claus, so I took a picture from the other direction, where you can see a faint smile. Note that the Christmas Mall, which has a fudge shop, an ice cream shop, a liquor store and a gift shop, also houses the post office. When you get mail postmarked Christmas, Mich., this is where it comes from ...

Despite the state of her sign, they still have a street names for Mrs. Claus. And they have a Santa Lane. And a St. Nicholas Avenue. And the main drag through town is Christmas Avenue.

Then we hit paydirt: Santa's Workshop. It says so right there. In case you have any doubts whether this is a viable place, just look at the left of this photo. That ought to erase all doubts ...

Of course, right outside is a huge Santa, standing right next to the North Pole. I mean, how could it not be the North Pole? It says so right on it.

The business of Christmas may be Christmas, but they have other businesses, too. On the way out of town, we came upon the place where Santa gets his sled tuned up ...

When Santa has visitors in town--maybe some elves brought in for short-term seasonal work--they probably stay here ...

Soon we were out of town and on our way to the Soo. About three hours later, we were on the International Bridge. The two flags mark the international border ...

and the end of this part of the story ...

5 ... 4 ... 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

Today, I'm looking for a place to put down some private thoughts. And since nobody visits my blog here anyway ...

It's just the anticipation of my visit to see B next week. I am meeting her at the airport in Minneapolis-St. Paul, and from there we are going down in my car to the neopagan event in southern Wisconsin I have attended for the last several years around the Fourth of July.

In all, we will be together four days and three nights. We have been writing each other since last August, got to be good friends, and it has evolved from there. Into love. I didn't mean it to. It just happened. Regardless of the fact that I have a wife. Regardless that she has a husband.

But both she and her husband are polyamorous, as am I. My wife can't break through those invisible walls that restrain her from doing many things that would make her a happier person. But she is happy for us. So I will drive her over for a long visit with her sisters (on my way to the Twin Cities), and she is eagerly looking forward to that. She will give me one of her quilts, to keep us warm in case the nighttime conditions at the neopagan event (We will stay there in a tent one night.) aren't as warm as we would like. It will work out.

Oh, this promises to be a very different vacation than any I have ever had with my wife. B cherishes her sexuality, and she gives every sign that she isn't going to be shy. To judge by what she has been writing me, I believe it. She hasn't been shy during our Skype video calls, which usually end up with both of us naked. She has been teasing me about the sexy things she plans to wear during our time together. She asks me not to bring too much underwear along.

Imagine. Imagine being with someone who actually enjoys the magic of sex and being sexy. That may be an ordinary experience for many men, but it's extremely rare for me. Frankly, I didn't think I would live that long. I thought I would have to wait until some other lifetime, some second chance in some parallel universe where women love who they are and the amazing enchantment they can put over a man with the magic of sex.

She is excited. I am excited. She teases me by telling how "Miss Kitty" and "the girls" are eager to meet me. I tease her right back, telling them about a hard, long friend who is waiting to get to know them better. We talked on the phone last night (Skype wasn't working on my laptop, unfortunately.) to discuss some things related to the visit and work out some uncertainties. It was just fun to talk.

We started seriously discussing the possibility of a July encounter back in February, when the countdown was something like 120 days. Now, the number is 5. Tomorrow, it will be 4. Next Thursday, it will be zero. On July 1, my wife and I will stay at my sister-in-law's place--I'll get up early on the 2nd, kiss her good-bye and drive west and then south. Her flight arrives about 12:45 p.m., and I plan to be there in plenty of time.

FYI, it will be the very first time I have ever been inside a major airport. But I have researched what the procedures are and I studied the website, so I think I know where I'm going. It may be a little hectic there. But we both will have cell phones. Near the luggage pickup area, our eyes will fall on one another. And then a wonderfully long weekend will begin.

What's on tap (besides the sex)? Two nights in motels with swimming pools and whirlpools. Some shopping at Mall of America, plus picking up this and that along the way. A lot of time in the car, talking, laughing, teasing, growing closer. Fireworks on the night of the 4th.

At the neopagan camp, it gets more exotic. A sarong-tying workshop. A henna workshop/playtime, with plenty of skin exposed. A "Naked Lunch." A symposium. A main ritual. And late at night we will walk out into a field, carrying a flashlight and blanket, find a good place to sit and gaze up into a pitch-black sky at trillions of stars shining brightly overhead, plus an occasional meteor and fireflies flashing here and there. A truly magical night.

It will all pass too quickly. The whole weekend will. Before we know it, we will be back at the airport, trying bravely to hold back our tears. It's been too short. But the days we share will be wonderful. We have both vowed to live each day to the fullest, to not hold back and to make lovely memories. Seize the day!

Day of the bison

Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam / Where the deer and the antelope play. / Where seldom is heard a discouraging word / And the skies are not cloudy all day …

We sure have deer up here. No antelope. More than our share of grouches and cloudy days.

But we do have buffalo. Near our home, within 50 miles, there are at least two ranches where bison are raised and bred. The one closer to us has been holding a Baby Bison Fest every June for the last few years, but we had never been to one because of other events taking place–either stuff I have to cover for the paper or our vacations.

This year we made a note of the date, and we adjusted the dates of the Canada trip (a story not yet written) to make sure we were home in time to take it in. So, on a recent Saturday, we got in the car and made the journey as a side trip during a normal visit to Iron Mountain.

The place keeps 50 head of bison, and the website explains that they are 100% grass-fed and pharm-free. “No drugs, pesticides or herbicides involved … ever. Our buffalo are raised in an open, natural setting in an effort to keep them as stress-free as possible. They are never feed-lotted.”

In case you didn’t see the website, they tell you that several times while you’re there.

We first visited a large metal storage building where they were selling buffalo-based items. (More on that later.) They also had littler, cuddlier bison for the littler, cuddlier people …

They also had a petting zoo, a car show and a number of vendors for a number of things. But the stars of the show were grazing in the field a short distance away …

They had a tractor pulling farm wagons into the field, where you could get up close and personal (but not too close or too personal) to the bison. Of course, we joined the line …

When we finally got our turn, I found out we would be riding in the royal carriage. Two of the county’s “Fairest of the Fair” were in our wagon, along with the reigning Wisconsin “Fairest of the Fair,” who was crowned at the Wisconsin State Fair in West Allis last summer …

All three were wearing their tiaras, and they were taking pictures of the bison like everyone else …

We heard once more how naturally the bison are being raised. It’s hard to tell a happy bison from an unhappy one, but these looked reasonably content–at least until the wagon got too close. Then they moved off–both the big ones and the little ones …

It was low-cost entertainment. You could park on the grounds in exchange for a $3 donation to the local high school’s forensics team. The ride into the field to look at the bison close-up was $1 a head, which went to the local county fair.Make no mistake, they raise the bison for harvest. They had bison burgers and bison brats for sale inside the metal building (also a benefit for the fair), and we each bought one. Yum! So good that my wife bought another five pounds of them. Last Saturday, we each had a home-cooked bison burger for lunch.

That’s the ultimate fate of the bison at ranches today, like the beef cattle we see in the fields. But there were 50 bison at the ranch we visited recently, and there sure were a lot of baby bison to look at. The population is no danger. It’s a short life but a happy one.

****

I have spent most of the last week watching with increasing disgust what is happening in Iran. It is a very important story, and the media finally started paying attention. Not that there is a lot we can do to influence things one way or another.

Weatherwise, we got pretty warm Sunday. I covered the local Father’s Day car show and other events Sunday afternoon, and luckily I remembered to put on the sunscreen–it was mostly sunny and very warm. When I got back home, I found it had gotten up to 88F (31C), though the humidity was not too high. I had wanted to mow the lawn, but I delayed that until after supper, when it was a little cooler.

On Tuesday, the temperature rose into the low 90s (about 33 C), and it got close to 90 today (Wednesday). It is supposed to cool off over the weekend.

This started out as a very cool June, but that changed about two weeks ago. Now it’s summer here, too. Unlike other parts of the Midwest, though, we haven’t had a lot of rain. We could use a little more.

If you happen to bump into the weather man, tell him that for me.

Fast ketchup

(Not the red stuff that you pour all over your fries. Just “ketch(ing) up” with things.)

Life has been moving on swiftly for me, much too swiftly for me to write blog posts when I get some quiet time. Last week, my wife and I made that brief trip to Canada. Last weekend, we went to a Baby Bison Fest. And in two weeks, I will be at the airport in the Twin Cities to pick up B, at the start of our adventure.

I will post about the Canada trip and the Bison Fest when I find the time. We also recently went to a logging museum that had an old-time one-room school that I liked, plus I got some interesting handouts. I’ll also put that on the “to do … eventually” list.

Long-time readers know that for the last few years, I have been documenting the life of the robins that have nested on our front porch. In case you were wondering, there have been no nests so far this summer. We cleaned out those corners of the porch and put out the welcome mat, but no tenants yet. I don’t require them to sign a lease, either. I’m quite a nice landlord. Even if I am a bit intrusive with the camera.

Another occasional topic for me is my adventures with wildlife–especially bears. Early this week, I found out about a wandering bruin near a city park, so I went over with my camera to watch the fun.

It was at a far corner of the park, in a mostly wooded area but still close to city streets and residential homes and little kids playing. Mr. Bear was about halfway up a tall tree, and the authorities were on the scene, trying to persuade him to climb back down. Mr. Bear said no, I like it right where I am …

By the way, he was not a large bear (and there’s no way of knowing if he really was a he). Some people watching the fun said he was a second-year cub–a bear born last year.

Enter the DNR–the Department of Natural Resources–whose biologist came over to try to help. The plan was to tranquilize the bear and give him a ride out of town. But the local DNR biologists don’t have the kind of tranquiilizer gun you see all the time on animal shows on TV. What they use instead is use a long aluminum stick that has a needle in one end. Give him a couple of pokes with the tranquilizer, and pretty soon your target will get very sleepy.

The DNR guy climbed the ladder and got his stick ready. But Mr. Bear climbed higher, out of range. Up, up, up he climbed until he reached the very top of the tree, where he sat and thought bearish thoughts.

The cops were on the scene, too, with the county animal control officer. No ladder was anywhere near tall enough, so a new plan was needed. How about guns? How about making lots of noise with loud guns and shooting at the tree above the bear, to scare him back down? Bang! Bang! Bang! Mr. Bear didn’t seem impressed … or scared. The standoff continued.

But then the heavy artillery was brought in–a city bucket truck. The DNR guy got into the bucket, and up he went, up, up, up until he was nearly at the bear’s altitude. He brought his tranquilizer stick along, too, and took aim …

Mr. Bear got the message and started climbing down. Down, down, down. He paused about 12 feet above the ground then climbed down some more–maybe about 4 feet from terra firma. But then he noticed another DNR guy standing by the base of the tree. It must have been a scary sight–the bear reversed course and started climbing up, up, up again. Within moments, he was about 2/3rds of the way up.

But the guy in the bucket soon was close by, and he took aim. Another stick or two, and Mr. Bear started thinking it was time to go beddy-bye. …

Before anybody could sing him a lullaby, he lost his grip on the tree trunk and fell to the ground. The DNR guys brought over an oversize plastic pet carrier, quickly had the bear inside and carried him to their pickup truck. After that, I presume, they gave him a long ride into the deep woods, opened the door and sent him on his way.

****
Bloggy blahs seem to be nearly universal now. I can understand why I am not writing so much–I’m busy with other stuff and never can seem to catch up. But everybody else? They’re under a different standard!

Namely … a double standard.

Passing a stone

Oh, that was a big stone to pass!

That big stone was the spring sports season, which ended last Saturday with the track finals. Because of budget cuts here in the office, I couldn't travel to cover much of it in person, and because of space restrictions, I couldn't write too much or put in too many pictures. The shoe in pinching here, too. So the trick I had to perform was to squeeze in the same amount of information in less space. Just one trip per week. Write tight. Trim down the pictures and use fewer of them.

Anyway, now it's over. The local sports scene should be a lot quieter now that high school is done with until next August, and I will have a more time for other things. The hockey playoffs are still going on, but that's in the final lap, too. It may be over this Saturday night. It could go until next Friday. Either way, it won't be long.

It's nice and sunny today, with temperatures close to 70, but spring has been reaaaaaalllllllyyy slow to arrive up here. A couple days ago we never reached 50 all day. It's a spring characterized by persistent chilly winds from the northwest. Lots of wind, too. We also have had freeze warnings from time to time, including last night. Sweet! Are we really in June? I've got a feeling that all of a sudden summer will hump on our backs, and we'll go from brisk days in the 60s to muggy ones in the 90s--just like that.

Whatever the weather, my wife and I are going on a little trip next week, a mini vacation. We are going to the eastern end of the U.P. and then north, across the border into Canada--Sault Ste. Marie, specifically. We will be looking around town and taking a train excursion north into the interior--a one-day trip.

Yes, we know about the new travel laws, but we went to the post office about a month ago, filled out the forms and had pictures taken. A week or two ago, our brand new passport cards arrived in the mail. Neither of us have ever had a passport (or had any need of them), so this was a new experience.

The cards are only good for crossing into Canada (or Mexico) by land or sea. If we ever fly into Canada, we would need the familiar passport book. But we have never flown anywhere. Our vacations have always been short and close to home, and this one will be no exception.

In all, we'll be gone four days, including two days of driving. We are hoping to be back home on Saturday, in time to go to a Baby Bison fest at a nearby ranch where they raise--you guessed it!--buffalo. Maybe that will have to wait for another year, but I hope not.

On Friday, I'm taking the afternoon off and driving my wife and son to Rhinelander--just for fun and to look around, maybe a little shopping. We haven't been down there for a while. We were planning to there over Memorial Day, but my car blew a muffler (or so it sounded) on my way to Memorial Day events.

Meanwhile, B and I continue to fine-tune plans for our first visit and our trip to the neopagan event in southern Wisconsin around the Fourth of July. I sent in the registration forms and the check Wednesday morning. (In case you forgot my plan: I am driving my wife for a visit to her sisters in northwest Wisconsin, then continuing west to the Twin Cities airport to pick up B. We drive down there, spend three nights on the road (one in a tent, two in a motel), then I drive her back to the airport. Then, I'm solo as I drive back to the inlaws, pick up my wife again and head for home.)

We have been talking a lot about it, and we're both really excited at the thoought of finally getting to meet each other.