Wild ricing, worming

Our daughter, Jennifer, has been wild ricing the past week. Here she is with her paddle and her pants taped snug to the ankles. She's been out wild ricing three times now near her new Nisswa, Minnesota headquarters. She's out in a ricing canoe with an expert, but so far hasn't reaped the harvest. . . just a lot of the local worms. We'll let her explain:

Hi Mom and Stan,
Wild ricing was fun even though we essentially struck out three times. We got rained out the first day, started the second day paddling into a patch that had been worked already, and then drove an hour North to find a really, really good thick patch that is about two weeks from ripening.

Three strikes and still it was so fun. Here are the photos.
Love you,
Jen

(Photo at right) Jen says: "Tom Carlson is the Gondolier. Er, that's what they call it in Italy, I forget the official ricing terminology."

Jen says there is absolutely nothing romantic about ricing. These worms are climbing her pant leg. They tape their pants over their shoes.

That's our girl, wild ricer still in search of the mother lode.