Hotel California addition

 

Wayne found this today

 

Every so often, my International Fall friend checks his game camera set up in likely spots in the northern woods. He sees wolves, coyotes, beaver and any wildlife activity that triggers the camera. The images are usually from night time activity and are often blurry and hard to make out. But today came this gem, a magpie taking a selfie thanks to Wayne's strategically placed box.

Coming home. . .

 

Checking in from Rome on the last day of their trip around the European must-see locations, Hai and Xuan report calling on the Vatican....... but the Pope didn't answer their knock. Coliseum had to do for the final leg to this memorable jaunt, that all started in her nail salon in Menifee, California.

Birdie in the Sky with Diamonds

Call us sentimental, but we can't always help it. Saw an unusual cloud formation yesterday evening and shot a few pictures for fun. Had Kathleen look them over and pick her favorite. Sure enough, she went for the one that looked like our dear late poodle, Birdie, trademark puppy-cut and all. And then, like Birdie, it was gone, like everything else in this ephemeral existence. But it brings us joy in the meanwhile.

Do you see her? Facing to the right. All dogs go to heaven, you know.

Absolutely topless, the marquee said

Honest-to-goodness bare breasts jiggling across stage? Absolutely topless? Imaginations ran wild that night as four college boys explored the Mighty Midway at the 1969 Minnesota State Fair. Worn, painted signs made it very clear that there would be bra-less, half-naked bodies inside that grimy side-show tent. Nothing at all left to imagine, the old barker boasted in a grizzly rhythmic chant.

For boys attending a college that didn’t even allow dancing, it was just too much to resist. Really? Topless? Bra-less? Just a dollar? We wondered how could they not be shut down by fair board management. Unbelievable. Bare booby.

We put our money down.

Directed through a canvas tunnel into a dirty, dark and depressing tent, we eagerly found folding chairs as near to the front as possible, and waited in anticipation. As the tent filled with testosterone, breathless expectations were palpable. The music began.

And there she was! The beginning of the show. Only one dancer, true, but so fine. She writhed and teased and we were caught up in her spell, but never forgetting what the real point of all this fore-play was. It wasn’t long before the performance came to a climax. Sure enough, with one quick motion, she deftly snatched off her wig and cast off her bra. Totally topless, alright. We were shocked, stunned.

Three Lutheran farm boys and the preacher’s son had just been introduced to their first-ever female impersonator. Bare-chested and crew cut now, he scampered across the stage, grinning and laughing and mocking us, then quickly disappeared, presumably for his own personal safety.

We licked our wounds and retired as gracefully as possible, victims of ourselves, of our naivete. Our hormones.

Yes, there’s one born every minute, someone said.

Arts in the Park

Musically, it was probably the worst concert I’ve ever heard; Emotionally, it was among the best.

While exploring the Arts in the Park booths at yesterday’s annual event, with their usual offerings of handmade products, pictures, pottery and paraphernalia, I stumbled across a free concert in a packed adjacent pavilion. Two young men, amped and wired and staged for rock 'n roll, had a half hour scheduled, the little marquee said.. The duo was known only by a family name, and the crowd seemed held in rapt attention. I joined them.

Just guessing here, but it seemed to be a young man and his dear special needs brother, singing the songs we all know, heavy on the Beatles, Johnny Cash and similar, and they were belting them out with enthusiasm and courage. The audience loved it. The sounds were. . .unusual. Occasional brilliant keyboarding was contrasted with exuberant renditions of the popular tunes.

Johnny Cash may not have delivered “Ring of Fire” exactly that way, but undoubtedly he’d approve its unique interpretation. And the Beatles would have enjoyed "Hey Jude!,” starting out gently, softly, then a crescendo into a screaming Judiee! Judiee! Judiee. The one of a kind jubilant performance closed with an a cappella version of “It’s a Wonderful World.” Satchmo was never more earnest or sincere.

Program finished, the spirited audience rose as one, thrilled, teary and excited, giving a rousing, standing ovation as the duo acknowledged the robust acclamation. The pavilion brimmed with mutual love and support.

A latecomer, I really don’t know exactly what happened here yesterday, but this is what I saw.

And then I said to myself, "what a Wonderful World."

Wrath over Purgatory Creek

 The sunset to the right and this passing rainstorm combined to paint this last night. Sudden rain, then gone, leaving this almost Biblical image before bedtime vespers.

"Spring Snow"

 Heaven has come to Purgatory Creek Park.

Can you see me?

Right under the Brick and Bourbon restaurant sign, way beneath our window, Mrs. Mallard decided this was a warm, safe place to raise her chicks. Sitting very still, passers-by rarely notice, except an old retired guy with nothing better to do than wonder where all the ducks went this spring. We'll keep an eye on her, hoping the leashed dogs don't find the nest, and report back if we see her taking the young ones for a first swim. She's got to cross a busy street to do so, bad planning on her part, maybe we can get an assist when the time comes. Or she'll wait for nightfall, for a moonlit swim.

Summer sausage?

A busy day this morning, sort of an industrial mish-mash out our window on Eden Prairie, as the Amazon Fresh grocery store races the nearby apartment complex for completion. Temperatures will favor workers all week long after our chilly spring. Get ‘er done!

 

Whaddya mean, you're not interested?

 

"Our nest isn't going to fill itself."

A Good Man

 The President’s eulogy at the Walter F. Mondale Memorial yesterday inspired us to dig out some memorabilia and reflect on our times with this “good man,” as Joe Biden called him. Yesterday Biden revealed an intimate and long-standing relationship with the man who welcomed him in his first days at the Senate, and never stopped being an important fixture in his life.

We cherish the pictures of our nights at the Mondales in D.C. where, a busy man preparing for his presidential run, still had time for photos, a nice visit, and a box of Poppycock at his kitchen table, shared with two thrilled constituents from his home state.

Rest in peace, Fritz Mondale, a Good Man.

We'll take it!

For some of us here, a new bud can spark as much joy as a basket of roses.

Easter 2022

Back row: Marcy, Missy, Marcy's son Maxwell, Nevin - old family friend. Missy's daughter Emily is in front.

Moon Shot.

Behold! The sun has broken through in Eden Prairie! And the blue moon was there to bear witness! April 8. Now Play Ball!

Watercolor

 Goodbye March. You were nothing special this year. As usual.

Last chance?

 

Sensing the passing of winter today, a shaggy dog got the most out of the shrinking snowdrifts, stopping at each to wallow, to the delight of her owners. Hoping for 60 degrees tomorrow.

We think this will be a very special spring, we will put so much behind us. So many new beginnings. Bring it on!

Welcome to Wendy's!

 

Flashing that smile that won her over as an infant, our grandchild finishes another order at the Wendy's  drive up that employs her twice a week. She manages an A average in her studies and is delighted to have the extra money. Still 15, going on 21. Growing up so fast! Driver training in May!

Her pants are wet, but she always had a smile when the afternoon nap was over.

Happy 85th Harold!

 

The entire population of tiny Keene, North Dakota, and the surrounding area, turned out to honor Harold Rolfsrud for his 85th birthday Saturday — in the largest venue available, the Keene Dome. Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but the family patriarch is a popular figure in the area, and many life-long friends and others came to extend their best wishes, as well as did his extensive extended family, one from as far away as Alabama. 

We add our congratulations to this dear man, proud to claim him as a first cousin. His actual birthday is today.

(photo at right) Dixie from the Keene Cafe added a banana cream pie, a favorite.

An old friend passes into the sunset

It’s been standing here since we moved in last summer. Grounded in 65 yards of concrete and busy assembling a parking garage, it was a durable picture of slow steady progress. We wondered what it would be like to run, perched high above the project, precisely coordinating supplies to the trusting groups of workers below.

Does the operator take a break? Does he get lonely? Does the wind scare him? ..... We also wondered just how you would take down such an immense crane. 

Today we found out: You just get a bigger crane.

A real-life high wire act played out this afternoon, as three men methodically disassembled the structure and the taller crane lowered it, piece by piece, ready to move on to the next job. A sure sign of Spring? We’ll take it. 

Yes, we’ll miss that big old crane on the horizon. But then, we’ll always have the sunset, keeping time in the autumn of our lives. Standby for more photos.

At Last. . .

 

What we set out to do 10 months ago, finally got done today. We came home with a new left hip, and reports are that it’s all good. It’s everything I can do to keep K from over-testing another piece of shiny hardware.

Many of you recall that on May 1, 2021, we were preparing K for hip surgery and rolling up the rugs in preparation for her walker paraphernalia. She tripped on a rolled up rug, and we were soon in the Trauma One center at North Memorial with a broken neck. Two surgeries, three weeks, and one neck brace later, we were home in time to finish our planned move to our present location.

By fall, our surgeon pronounced her good to go for any kind of surgery she wanted. But when we applied, in December, a disappointed orthopod said all electric surgeries had been canceled. Waconia hospital needed the beds and staff for serious Covid patients. We were grateful to not be in their number and waited patiently for the Covid patients to clear out.

They did.

Surgery went like clockwork, looked like they had a dozen to do that day alone. Remarkable staff, remarkable surgeon but most remarkable: the hospital food. As long-term veterans of hospital cuisine elsewhere, we have a certain standing in this area and are happy to award five stars to the Waconia hospital kitchen staff.

Home again, the food marks will plummet as Stan puts on his apron and opens the refrigerator. However, frequent take-outs are promised and no one has to miss a meal.

Come and see us soon. K is housebound and Covid is subsiding. She can use your company.

Meanwhile, somewhere southwest of San Diego. . .

 

Longtime newspaper employee, Hai Dang, just caught these Vermillion Rockfish in the waters off Mexico. "Two hooks, two fish" he notes. We'd love to join him in the warmth of Hotel California, but we have bigger fish to fry here in Minnesota. We're set up for hip surgery on February 24.