Archive - Jul 2006

July 9th

Summer turns color

It is partly due to the dry weather and partly due to things maturing, but the last week has seen a change from an all-green landscape to one with a more golden hue.

The dust hangs over the gravel roads for a long time on a dry day like today.

With acres of cultivated flowers to photograph, my eye drifted off in the woods to this naturally occurring morning glory.

July 8th


Last night, I sat at the log cabin, the nursery's booth at the fair, from five until about ten. It was steamy hot in there.

The fair turns me into a recluse. I would rather stay home. I sometimes wonder why. I think I have figured it out. You run into people you haven't seen for years and years--and that isn't always pleasant.

For instance, a conversation last night, with somebody I knew from high school: After all the greetings were over with, the inevitable, "so, what are you doing now?"

Screw up

Got a nasty call this morning by somebody infuriated at my column on the lake. That was somewhat confusing, since I wrote the column two years ago. Like any satire, it stirred up reactions both good and bad, and I was sort of glad that the whole thing had settled down.

So, I wondered, why did the Grand Forks paper reprint it this morning? Didn't they like the column I sent them? Why did they pick the lake one out of all of the old columns? Just to make my day?

July 6th


A few months ago, I read that one of my favorite columnists, Art Buchwald, had entered hospice and was refusing dialysis. He was expected to live only days. The article was entitled "Buchwald enters final chapter," or something similar.

However, I never heard that he actually died. Tonight, I typed his name into Google to find out what happened to him and found this article written today.

Old Letters

My sister Tracie came home for a couple of days. Her mission was to sort through some of her belongings. She is a reforming pack rat. Must be something that happens when you get near forty.

So, she plopped on my desk an entire folder of letters I had written to her when we both were in college. I was here in Minnesota at the time, she was in Oregon. No internet at the time, and phone calls were still expensive--so we actually wrote letters. I typed mine. No margins. Wall to wall print.

July 5th

Wood cuttin

The beautiful weather has given me a chance to cut some firewood. When I got the chainsaw going to clear brush in The Maples, I found it difficult to stop. The woodpile is already bigger now than it was last November.

The water is down in the swamp due to the dry weather, which allows me to get at some of the standing dead ash trees I usually don't reach until freeze-up.

July 3rd

Gardens perk up

With the heat, the gardens are starting to show some color. The hosta, above, have been looking good for over a month. They are still my favorite.

The yellow groundcover is moneywort, the blue is ageratum. The big round thing is a rock.

July 2nd

Liriano, Twins roll

Liriano had his best game yet, beating the Brewers 8-0. Twelve strikeouts and eight innings of shutout baseball. I was infuriated that Gardenhire pulled the rookie after eight innings--there was no indication he was tiring--but Gardenhire said 1) he wants to protect Liriano's young arm (apparently young pitchers blow a gasket if they throw more than 100 pitches) and 2) he wanted to give Kyle Lohse some work. Well, it is best to have an eight run lead before giving Lohse the ball, so I guess I understand.