Root, hoot, toot for the hometeam

Jen and Joe have listed the town house

Take a peek at their work. Click on this link.

The local news

Kathleen lunched with her middle daughter at Southdale today and her walk through Macy's netted Stan a big score. He's been trying to eat more vegetables lately (live like you're 50 until you're 80 is the new mantra) but the canned peas, green beans and carrots are getting a bit boring.
As she strolled through Macy's today, Kathleen was distracted by an enticing demonstration of a new vegetable marinade. She sampled a mouthful, found it toothsome, then stopped at Cub on the way home for Portabella mushrooms, carrots, zuccini, tomatoes, green peppers, red peppers, and asparagus.
Chuckling away in the black spider, the vegetables sparkled in their bright coat of Tuscan marinade. Kathleen is too traditional to serve a man just vegetables, of course, so thin-sliced beef strips accompanied today's experiment in healthy eating.
In return, Stan offered the best neighborhood news he could remember from the day:

• Steve, fresh from his 1700 mile drive from Tucson, dropped by with Stan's bike and Kathleen's forgotten copy of "Still Alice," her half-read book about an Alzheimer's victim that Kathleen ironically didn't remember to bring home from Tucson.
• Our neighbors, the Pundts, are flying back home to Florida after two weeks in Minnesota with the grandson and his parents. Newly-retired Jeff thinks a winter home in San Antonio might be nice, safe from hurricanes, and near his brother's golf course. 
• There are more than 80 golfers planning a round tomorrow at Stonebrooke, possibly a record for this early in the season. 
• Nephew Ford opened practice Monday for his Shakopee varsity tennis team. The family is moving to their new Shakopee house soon.
• Tom's tax business is rolling along, he's got all the clients he wants. Should probably raise his rates if he's getting too busy.
• The Minnesota Twins had a nice surprise phone call for Kathleen today. Turns out her ticket package includes the exhibition game on Friday, so we can extend a streak. Stan and Kathleen attended the very first exhibition game held in the Metrodome back in the 80s, and saw the first home run. Scrappy Pete Rose hit it, probably winning a bet. Friday we'll see the first major league exhibition game ever held at Target Field, but we shan't see the first home run. The Gophers took that away Saturday. We play the St. Louis Cardinals. Last time we saw them was in the seventh game of the World Series in 1987. Welcome back, Cards.
• Stan sanded and finished the third of four beat-up leather chairs, rescued this weekend from the clubhouse dungeon; Kathleen thinks today's chair may be his best one yet. He's starting to get the hang of the sanding procedures. Steve inspected it and thought it quite respectable.
• The neighbor's daughter stopped by the garage today and asked if Stan could consult on a basement bar project that she and her husband want to do in their new house near here. She's very pregnant so Stan suggested her husband make a crib instead, but she is not only pregnant, she's adamant as well. Stan then agreed to consult on a sexy, curvy bar top, but won't lift a hammer. He's retired now, you know.

Fixer Upper? Bleak House?

Our folks bought this house in 1950 along with the 17 acres that surrounded it. They worked on it for thirty years. In the meantime they raised six kids in it. Oh yes. It came with a barn and a chicken coop.

We're done. . .

New life for these battered beauties. Notice how the leather lotion first darkened and then lightened the finish coat. Enthused by the results, we're going for more chairs today. For a before and after, scroll down. By the way, we've had a few bites on the vinyl recliner. . . but it's still in the basement. Act now.

Yes, we can

You can sand leather.

We scuffed theses scratched and abused leather chairs with a palm sander loaded with 220 grit sandpaper. It took some time, but here are the results.
The graffiti and scratches have retreated. Some traces are still evident, but the subtle remaining marks look more like an aged distressed patina than the original wanton, perverse vandalism. Moving on, we'll rub in some generous squirts of a leather lotion to see if we can't coax these beautiful, time-worn ladies to come out and party once again.

Can you sand leather?

A half-dozen leather chairs, beautifully stitched from genuine cowhide, were purchased for the new Stonebrooke clubhouse about six years ago. They looked great, giving the interior a refined, masculine look of comfort. Unfortunately, in just a few years these grand chairs had been scarred and defaced so badly with graffiti and markings they became useless. Kyle and Allie, J.S. and P.L, and many, many others scratched their marks into these chairs, adding senseless slashes and incomplete tic-tac-toe games with fingernails, golf tees and any other tools at hand.
At one time these chairs probably retailed for $500 each.
Saturday Stan bought two of them for $25 each and brought them home with a plan. This is real top grain leather and should be able to stand up to a lot of abuse. Stan intends to do just that with 220 grit sand paper. He'll scuff the entire chair, then try to put it back together with leather cleaner and restorer. There are no tears in the leather and the stitching is still perfect.
Anybody got any advice?

This magnificent recliner. . .

Yours for $75!
Stan did some horse-trading at the clubhouse yesterday and acquired two beat-up classic leather chairs that he thinks he can recondition. So this recliner, unusable because all recliners give Stan a backache, is on the auction block. It was put on Craigslist yesterday, creating a major buzz and much excitement in the e-commerce world. Two interested parties so far. But there is still time. All offers will be considered, so act quickly. Put this gorgeous vinyl companion in front of your tee vee today! Perfect for watching re-runs of Raymond. Rolfsrud@gmail.com

So much to catch up on. . .

Our Wednesday girl joined us for breakfast today for the first time in two months. So much to talk about over pancakes and milk. Grandma's got pretty new dinner plates, there's a box of Chutes and Ladders to open, Emily can spell DOG and CAT, she's taller, and volunteered that we were seated in a triangle today.

Our day has just begun, 

What fun. 

Now here's a wave

To everyone!

New plates for an old girl

After seven years of faithful service, the State of Minnesota issued Stan's Buick Rendezvous a new set of license plates. The old girl has flawlessly delivered on six round trips to Tucson with nary a whimper. Change the oil, the tires, a fuel filter and you're good to go. Coming back into Minnesota Friday we crossed the 100,000 mile threshold without ceremony or pause. By drawing the shortest line possible across the flat Great Plains, we've now shortened the trip to 1,700 miles each way. When Stan drives alone, the Buick doubles as a hotel room. But we're short-timers when it comes to vehicle longevity. Brother Steve holds the long distance record, more than doubling Stan's mileage with his ancient mini-van. We always carry AAA Road Service. Not sure why yet. As soon as we drop it, of course, something will start knocking and we'll need it.

An adventure in the Southwest

Stan's sister and brother-in-law, Linda and Ron Letnes, have an adventure each year with their Colorado daughter, Alyssa, her husband, Corey, and their children. It's always an exciting time, and this year was no exception, as the family explored Capital Reef, Bryce National Park, Zion National Park, the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley. It was a healthy trip too. No pop, chips or candy bars. Very impressive.
Linda writes:
Hi Stan,

Prior to our trip, Alyssa told us that none of the Huertas drink pop, eat chips, or buy candy bars. Throughout the trip we looked for healthy places to eat, so going to a Burger King wasn't supposed to be part of the plan. The only one we went into was in a Navaho Codetalker Museum (the owner's father was one of the codetalkers in WW2). Also there was an outdoor museum there sharing Navaho life, several hogans. 

It was well worth it.

Alyssa also told me that everyone is trying to step up their physical activity, so I brought them pedometers. (I recommend Omron, they are the best of the many pedometers I have worn over the years. You can just throw it in your pocket and it works fine. It also gives you a variety of information as well as a memory of the past seven days.)

We played "Beat Grandma," and most days most of them did. We went on as many hikes as we could, no one minded going around or taking the long way. We had a good competition running every day.

Our trip began by going around the rockslide in the Glenwood Springs area by way of Craig and Rifle, Col. All of us wanted to make a stop at Cisco, a deserted town we had glimpsed last year. There were more than Indian ruins on this trip!
Last year's weather had been perfect, but this year was a bit dicey at times. Stopped by a trooper an hour outside of Torrey, Utah, we turned back and entertained ourselves at Chill's which had arcade games, pool, and where the kids worked on my weak texting skills. By the time we left I was independently texting. The hotel manager told us we could make our move by catching the next snowplow and following close behind. To get out, we needed two snowplows and a trooper on a sometimes one-lane path, but get out we did.
In spite of weather delay, we made all our goals: Capital Reef, Bryce National Park, Zion National Park, the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley. The Huertas are avid learners, interested in all the surroundings. For a change of pace, next year we plan to fly into Washington DC. Everyone is excited about that!
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Click to enlarge the collage below for more detail of the trip sights.

No snow on Target Field

It's just a tarp, protecting the real grass of the new Twins ballpark.

Stan and Kathleen got a sunny preview today of Target Field as well as a chance to sit in their seats over on the first base side. Why there? Kathleen preferred a good view into the home team dugout over this spectacular downtown skyline view from the opposite side. She's really into the game, understand. Wants to steal Gardy's signals.
The red X in the above photo marks the spot where we'll be sitting for at least a half dozen games. Click to enlarge the image if you can't see it.
The ballpark architecture is stunning, to say the least. It took three hours of wandering and gawking to try to take in the spectacular views and intricate design features that attempt to maximize sight lines and give everyone an intimate sense of involvement with America's game.

There's something for everyone here. The ballpark mimics the class stratification structure of a traditional European horse track, the sport of kings, where the elite are separated from the unwashed, and the middle class sits in the middle and the lords have their rightful place and so on.
There are simple numbered aluminum benches in the left-field and a towering nosebleed section in center that gives the thrifty climber an amusement park sensation of vertigo. Contrast that to the plush and heated club levels where today ordinary folk could tread and marvel but soon will be barred without an expensive membership card.
An additional private corporate suite level -- Stan nicknamed Area 51 -- doesn't show up on the maps and the public escalators discreetly whisk past it without stopping. We could only speculate how one might find and achieve entrance to this posh windowed hideaway sandwiched between the terrace and the main concourse levels.
It is an efficient way to maximize return on investment based on ability to pay. The Twins management said they needed a new ballpark to be able to soak the corporate rich just enough to afford larger player salaries. This layout should allow them to maximize receipts without penalizing the little people. All good. The same baseball game is viewed from every seat.

We went behind the home plate backstop and sat in first-class cushioned highback chairs, (left) imagining newly-re-signed St. Paul boy Joe Mauer taking a 184 million dollar swing a few feet away. Joe was hard at work in Florida today. We know, because we watched him get a base hit on an absolutely massive high-definition television screen towering over center field. The live surround sound felt very intimate.

We stopped at Hrbek's. Mr. Hrbek wasn't in.
When it was time to eat, we found a cozy spot in the heated Legends Club and ordered a Murray's steak sandwich with garlic toast for $10.50. We were amazed. It was actually an excellent steak sandwich that you would pay $10.50 for outside the ballpark. Delicious. Served up by "volunteer" labor, earning donations for their children's dance lessons. What a country! The garlic toast was the size of a melba slice, but my, how spicy! We highly recommend the Murray's product, as well as the ice cream -- they call it gelato or something and we split a double dip for $5.
There are a number of intimate liquor bars high over the press box with heat and wide close-able picture windows that are going to be packed at game time, we predict. Then there is the Budweiser rooftop bar, which will be great for sun tans and beer drinking and baseball. We didn't take the elevator up there. Just too much everywhere else to see. The bathrooms were respectful, no galvanized cattle troughs. You could wash your hands in warm water. The toilets were green: two speed. That's very European but it is going to take some toilet training before we Norwegians get it figured out. We predict a batch of Ole and Lena "Big Flush" and "Little Flush" jokes soon.

The press box wasn't open to the public today. It had been open for the elite championship tour held earlier for fat cats, but they were serving them drinks and the cats started spilling things and making a mess so they just shut it down for today's Sabbath group, we were told.
Imagine -- spilled booze in the press box. Goodness!
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This is one great ballpark, just no doubt about it. Well done. It will take a long time to get to really know it, there is so much to it.
Drive to it or take the light rail? Parking is confusing as hell. Clueless, we opted for Garage B. When we got there, it was blocked off for construction. We doubled back around some one-way streets then past Target Center (not to be confused with Target Field) and re-entered what we hoped would be Garage A and a good place to park.
A Somali ticket guy ($5) advised that Level 3 was best for Twins if we could only find a place and we bumbled around the concrete and steel maze, eventually just following somebody wearing a Twins ball cap. And this was on a Sunday morning when there is no traffic to speak of downtown. We may chicken out next time and take the light rail. We can handle a Bloomington park and ride lot. Or maybe a taxi from Danny's downtown condo.
Hey. Want to go out to the ballgame? Ask Kathleen for tickets. If she can't get you in, at least now she can direct you to the box office. And ask her why they call a left-handed pitcher a southpaw. Hint: The answer makes sense, now that we're playing baseball outdoors again.

Comment from nephew Adam Jerdee via email Monday:

We Iowagians just might hit you folks up on Target Field tips, like where to park. We thought we might bring baby boy Jerdee up and maybe hit a baseball game this summer. I actually remember going to a game in the old Metropolitan Stadium with my Dad in the late 70s. It’s nice to see they are going back to the good old outdoor field, but with style.
More comments by clicking below:

Service with a BIG smile. . .

Last Sunday night, our guests Tom and Sandy Story were treated to a steak and chicken dinner prepared by Steve, with the assistance of his sister-in-law, Kathleen. Steve selected, then grilled up the meats and brought them to table to the appreciative oohs of our guests. That's Tom looking over Steve's deliveries.

Steve cards an Eagle, three Birdies!

We returned to Shakopee last night and fired up the email machine just in time to learn that brother Steve, who remains in Arizona, shot an amazing 81 on the challenging Tucson/Saddlebrooke Golf Course Wednesday.  He got three birdies and an eagle on the front nine for a 37.

Both scores are personal bests and were performed before trusted witnesses. . . Leno and Dave! That's Steve in the center, above, with Leno on the right and Mac on the left after a previous links event. 
Congratulations Steve! By the way -- for blog fans who aren't sure -- A birdie is one under par, an eagle is TWO under par and is an extremely rare occurrence anywhere.

Erin, go lightly

Stonebrooke Golf Club, Shakopee, Minnesota, is open for business. Yes, it's early. They'll be wearin' the greens.

Kaia's new home

Ford and Jenn did it! They took the first step to buying this home Sunday. Read all about it and see the photos on their blog. Click here.

No, not because he's a stud

Why is this lovely draft horse appearing on the Rolfsruds and Friends blog? Because he is an Ardennes stallion. That is the only clue you get. . . until later.

Full service long after the sale

Stan bought his 2003 Buick Rendezvous from Dave Chase during Dave's brief stint as a car salesman at Lenzen's in Chaska, Minn. It will have 100,000 almost flawless miles on it by the time it gets back to Minnesota next week. Kathleen washed the car in preparation for our big day visiting the Chases. While it was parked in Dave's Mesa, Arizona, driveway yesterday, a local bird took the opportunity to splash its shiny hood. The warranty on Stan's Buick has long since expired, but no matter. Dave promptly fetched the Windex from a garage shelf and performed full service on the spot, our satisfaction guaranteed.

Day's end with Greg and Phyllis

These Shakopee snowbirds enjoyed a sunny repast yesterday at the Gold Canyon, Arizona, winter home of Phyllis and Greg Collier. Their afternoon party capped a day highlighted by the exploration of the nearby Leisure World in Mesa, the granddaddy of the popular socialist enclaves favored by seniors fleeing to the Sunbelt to enjoy the fruits of their labors and spend down their children's inheritance.
Our hosts for the grand tour were the gracious Dave and Jane Chase, who purchased a winter home in Leisure World five years ago.

Originated in the 1970s, the development includes commonly-owned swimming pools, hobby rooms, exercise facilities, a huge library, two golf courses, tennis courts, lawn-bowling fields, reflecting ponds, clubhouses, card rooms, a restaurant, ballroom, wood shop and many other community resources.
Immediately outside the secure compound walls, shopping centers flourish.  A cardiac center rises on the north side. The immaculate housing stock is modestly priced and appears to be holding its value reasonably well in this difficult time.
Pictured above in this photo by Kathleen are Phyllis and Greg, Jane, Stan, Dave, Tom and Sandy. All are Shakopee residents. In the photo below, the Superstition Mountains rise behind the backyard kiva, standard equipment for hip Southwest residents.
In the photo, above right, Kathleen and Sandy model sun visors acquired in the well-appointed golf pro shop at Leisure World. Also purchased was a hand-stitched cloth bag filled with corn discovered at the huge Arts and Crafts Show. You simply freeze it, then apply to the aches and pains caused by all this active adult living.

Fire stick

Greg Collier calls it a fire stick plant. It grows in his Gold Canyon back yard near Phoenix. Smooth finish, no barbs like everything else seems to have out here, but the rabbits won't touch it anyway. The more abusive the weather, the redder it gets. Kathleen loved the vibrant, unusual plant immediately. Anybody know anything else about it? Greg and his wife, Phyllis, (our Shakopee neighbors) hosted our foursome this afternoon under a beautiful Arizona sky.  More photos to come.

Story Time

Tom and Sandy Story (right) joined Kathleen, Stan and Steve (taking the photo) for a sunset dinner tonight at the Preserve Clubhouse about a mile from here. Tom and Sandy are Kathleen and Stan's neighbors in Shakopee and are spending a week in Arizona. Tomorrow will be old home week as this foursome rises early to travel to Mesa and then Gold Canyon to visit other Shakopee neighbors in the Phoenix area.

Determining factor

Never mind that the forecast there calls for snow showers and the skies to be cloudy all day. That's not a factor any more. Yesterday, in an envelope addressed to Kathleen, an invitation arrived from Joe Mauer's employers asking us to come and see the new ballpark in downtown Minneapolis. Kathleen's departure check list was started immediately. Yes, we're heading home in time for the March 21 Official Open House for Target Field. No further discussion needed. Good bye, sunny skies, Minnesota's boys of summer are calling.

Cruiser

Al and Becky Jerdee finally cashed in their Christmas gift. Click here for details.

Happy Birthday, Ford

Househunter Ford Rolfsrud, 31 today, with Kaia, 13 and a half months. Happy Birthday!

Unethical scumbag. My buddy

By Stan Rolfsrud
Scared and not sure what to do next, the first person I saw on my first day at the 13th Support Brigade Information Office at Fort Hood, Texas, was Army Specialist Fourth Class Kenneth H. Fortenberry. He was an immediate comfort and would become a good friend.
Bad eyesight had washed him out of helicopter flight school, so Fortenberry picked journalism school next. The Army somehow went along with it. He's been raising hell ever since.
Born in Florida, Ken thought of himself as an unrepentant good ol' boy and was honored when I called him a redneck or cracker. He couldn't understand why I would want to live in cold Minnesota with all those Yankee stiffs. He earnestly invited me to join him in his wonderful Spartanburg, South Carolina, just as soon as I finished my service.
"We'll start a newspaper and shake up all those hypocrites," he proposed, cracking a grin as wide as the Mississippi Delta.
A road not taken.
I lost track of Fortenberry until sometime in the 80s when I saw him on "60 Minutes." Harry Reasoner was asking Ken exactly how he'd been run out of town after printing unflattering stories about the local sheriff in his newspaper. He had children now, Ken explained, and feared local thugs might bring harm.

Then he wrote a book called "Kill the Messenger."
Yesterday, while touring the Pima County Air Museum, I spotted a shoulder patch (left photo) for the 13th Support Brigade and it got me to wondering about my old Army pal. So I googled "Kenneth Fortenberry."
Here's what the search engine returned:
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Ken Fortenberry: No Accountability, No Honesty, No Ethics.
Ken Fortenberry Deals in Innuendo, Slander, & his own half-baked non-truths

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Yup, and there was a black and white picture of my old buddy, about 40 years older now, but still with a full head of hair and pugnacious look.
The anonymous entry continued:

Ken Fortenberry is rumored to be a scumbag. He prefers to use lurid accusations and defamation rather than discuss facts in a balanced or open way. He will not give people a fair shake in telling their side of a story, if he has an opinion formed about what sensationalism will sell the most papers.
Ken will quote people out of context, and use selective facts to change the whole meaning of an event, an issue, or a person's actions.
Even when caught red-handed, he refuses to admit his mistakes and likes to pretend they never happened.

Hmm. Same old Ken, I thought, with a chuckle. I'll bet he wrote that stuff himself, just to stir things up.

Ken likes to complain about high gas prices, but he is always seen driving all by himself in one of the very most gas-guzzling vehicles a person could drive. As was said by another East Lincoln birdie, "Maybe this is the only vehicle Ken's ego-inflated head and butt can fit into."

Yeah. Now I am certain. That's gotta be Ken.

A rainy Monday flight of fancy

Today we visited one of the largest air and space museums in the world, containing over 300 aircraft and spacecraft. We've been in Tucson for five years and didn't get in a visit until this rainy day in March.

We saw one of 50 amazing Blackbird spy planes, supersonic snoopers that took pictures during the Cold War over the Soviet Union or anywhere else the US damn-well pleased to go. It is a rocket ridden by two pilots and is absolutely huge. Stan is the red dot under the left engine. He remembers hearing incredible stories in the early 70s about this top secret bird when fellow servicemen would gossip about having caught a glimpse somewhere of something that seemed too powerful, too fast, too secret to be credible. But it all turned out to be true.

From high tech to low tech, Stan walked into a wooden barracks, (below) exactly like his Ft. Hood home for one year, except the latrine was closed and no one was playing cards.

On a colorful hangar wall display he spotted his shoulder patch for his mighty, mighty 13th Support Brigade. On the tarmac was an assortment of Vietnam-era helicopters he would see and hear daily, including the Huey which he would ride from time to time.

But the most interesting exhibit was the 390th's B-17 museum. That unit existed for only three years and its sole purpose was the bombing of western Europe before and after D-Day. A full-sized B-17 was the centerpiece, of course, but it was surrounded by detailed stories and fascinating exhibits about the work of the 10,000 men who served in this unit before it was disbanded.

An interesting day indeed, that also included a trip to the nearby boneyard. Tell you about that later.

Addition across the way

We have a good view of a construction project going on across the way from our Tucson back yard. Looks like the economy isn't totally dead, they're building on an addition. Gee. If they wanted more square footage, they could have given us an offer. It rained hard Sunday after they put this much roof on. Hope they got buttoned up okay.

An old favorite is revived

Just when it looked like it was time to throw out Stan's worn and faded Food Network baseball cap, a surprise arrived via the U.S. Postal Service. A fat care package was stuffed into our Tucson mailbox today with the return address of our South Minneapolis daughter, Marcelline Harrisonfields. We tore into it like five-year-olds.
Marcelline's employer, among other things, is a cameraman for the Food Network, notably filming episodes of the popular Diners, Drive-ins & Dives. One of Marcy's critical life missions is keeping Stan's head protected. Over the years she's provided a steady supply of cool and hip headgear. For Christmas in 2008, Marcy gave Stan a Food Network baseball cap. 
It was worn to Scotland and has become a stalwart in Stan's baseball cap rotation ever since, often eliciting comments and starting up conversations with strangers. And now it has been replaced, with an additional DD&D hat thrown in for good measure. You can see from the faded version in the photo above that it was indeed high time. Old reliable used to be the same black shade as the others.

Also in the package was a five dollar bill to pay for Marcy's text messages to Stan. Marcy loves to text message. The old fart does not, so he has it as an ala carte feature on his cellphone contract. It costs him 20 cents per text, which seems like a ridiculous sum to pay for: "Where R U now? I'm on the patio," but that is just another argument of many he has lost. He just passively grumbles about the cost each time he returns a text message on his cell, and includes a billing notation. So today Marcy shamed her cheap old stepdad and sent him a fiver to cover past and future communication expenses.
Mom, who texts like a teenager, got some swag too: A CD with Marcy's painting on its cover and a Food Network refrigerator magnet. Thanks, Marcelline! U R Ahsum!


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Marcelline replies:
Dear Mom and Stan and Family,
Loved the story on the blog. Fun fun.
My comment:
Texting = Connecting. I've got a teenage son and although he is not into texting either,his generation is and I don't want to be left in the dust.
Any of my under 30 friends don't even ring doorbells anymore. They stand outside my door (next to the doorbell) and call me on their cell. That blows me away everytime.

Last night at a party I was among a bit of a younger crowd and they listened in Awe as I told them about phone booths, phones that all rang the same, and the great exercise we used to get by having to run to pick up a call before it was done ringing. No caller ID. WE WERE ALL SPRINTERS back then. Remember?
Big Love,
Marcelline

Happy Birthday, Linda!

Here's today's birthday girl, Linda Letnes, with her sister, Becky, in the Marie Selby Gardens, Sarasota, FL. The pair spent most of a day there during Linda's recent visit, walking in the seven gardens. "We put 9,400 steps on our pedometers by the end of the day," Becky reports. That's a bit over 4 miles. Way to go, girls!