Saturday? Where has the week gone. Oh yah, that's right, up in smoke, literally. I'm better today, though. See? Writing that letter did help. Never fear - I didn't send it - it truly wasn't the kind of letter I would send anybody. I just had to vent a bit so thanks for listening. So if you want to go read about the temporary solution here's the location:
http://skybluewaters.wordpress.com/
And the password is the same as before.
Had a bit of excitement at our house this morning. Ole was up bright and early and because it was so nice out he decided he was going to complete some outside chores that we've been putting off because it's been so hot.
There were several pieces of facia that still needed to be put back up on the roof after doing the shingle job last summer. Gosh, that was way back in June. Where has the summer gone? So as he was crawling up the ladder to do it, out from a crack between two roof boards came a swarm of wasps. I've been noticing a lot of them buzzing around all summer - more than usual - but didn't think anything of it. Never ever thought we'd have a nest in our attic. But the little yellow buzzers with the big stingers just made themselves right at home in MY house, uninvited.
I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when Ole came tearing in (well, not exactly tearing, Ole doesn't tear much - he's usually pretty cool) yelling at me to find the wasp spray because we have an "issue." I went digging in my cupboards in the garage, looking through all kinds of poisons and sprays - rose spray, nope, fungicide, nope, time release fertilizer, nope - Ah, there it is way in the farthest corner. Wasp and hornet killer - three cans.
We went around the corner and he showed me the itty bitty hole that these buzzers were flying in and out of. And you know, there's nothing worse than an angry bug with a stinger, a big stinger. Ole had been up on the ladder pounding on the facia which must have disturbed these buzzers and they all came flying out. Fortunately he wasn't right by their hole, just a few feet away, so apparently they weren't able to determine it was HIM who was making all that racket. Needless to say he climbed down this 15 foot ladder as fast as he could and managed to come out of there without any stingers deposited in his body.
So now we were armed - well kind of. He took aim with one can and I took aim with the other. He's a much better shot than I am, but we managed to bring down a few carcasses. They didn't quite drop like flies, but it was nice to watch them dive bombing and then drop to the ground, lifeless. When things had calmed down a bit he climbed the ladder again (brave soul) and shot the remainder of the two cans into the hole, then put the remaining facia on the side of the roof, nailing them into their coffin.
Now I have just one question. Why were wasps put on this Earth, anyway. They serve absolutely no purpose and are mean and crabby all the time. Ugly little buzzers.
Oh, by the way, someone awhile back asked if the pictures on this page, top and bottom, were of my flower gardens. I must admit, yes, they are.
THE ADVENTURES OF OLE & LENA A Stud & and Hot Dish
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
A letter to sleep on
I've written a letter to someone. It's one of those that you need to sleep on before you send it off.
It's password protected, so if you think you want to read it let me know. I may or may not allow you in.
Love Lena
It's password protected, so if you think you want to read it let me know. I may or may not allow you in.
Love Lena
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Meet Johnny Aason
Johnny Aason alongside a normal sized man. In yesterday's entry I made reference to a man named Johnny Aason. He spent the winter living with my Grandpa Knudt in his 10x10 homestead shack. He was 7 feet tall and weighed in at 375 pounds. Can't you imagine how he had to duck to get through doorways.
Johnny was a resident of the area for many years, having arrived in North Dakota from Wisconsin with his widowed mother about 1899. They came to file on land, but by the time they got there, there was nothing left, so she purchased a lot in town and opened up a restaurant. She became ill and died, leaving three children; Johnny, then age 12, a brother, aged 9 and a sister that was 6. The kids were farmed out to various families, Johnny going to live with Grandpa Knudt's brother, Gilbert.
Gilbert raised Johnny like a son and saw to it that he went to school at least through the 8th grade. When Johnny was in grade school, he was the smallest in his class. He didn't start growing until he was in his teens, and then I guess he forgot to quit. Gilbert often said feeding him was like pouring water down the sink without plugging the drain hole. By the time Johnny reached adulthood he wore size 16 shoes, had an 18 inch dollar and a 29 inch inseam. He had to duck going through ordinary doorways and dodge electric lights hanging from ceilings.
Johnny worked on various farms around the area and helped Grandpa Knudt get his homestead started by doing the plowing, seeding, etc. One spring one horse of the team became ill during the critical planting time, so Johnny put on the horse collar and walked alongside the other horse to pull the plow and get the plowing done.
At one point he joined the circus and toured the country with Barnum and Bailey. After he grew tired of that and when his health started to fail he came back to North Dakota. My father was a young man at this time and was enthralled at how well Johnny could play the harmonica, which was made to order for him because his hands were so big. Dad learned to play the harmonica from Johnny and in his later years was quite an artist also.
My Dad said that Johnny was not well when he came back to North Dakota, probably issues due to his size and malfunctioning pituitary gland. He suffered all kinds of infections, was in and out of the hospital many times and finally died at age 48 from pneumonia.
Gee, I wonder if he had a girlfriend - and if he stood her on a chair to kiss her (snicker).
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Grandpa Knudt and Grandma Mina
Hi Folks, Lena here - but then you already knew that, didn't you.
A few days ago I wrote an entry about how my Mom and Dad met. I made a reference to my Grandfather (Dad's father) and how he homesteaded in North Dakota and I promised you more interesting and titillating details (yeah, sure). Those old Norwegians were so stoic I don't know if they ever did anything interesting or titillating (snicker) But now the Finns - that's another story. You know that Ole is Finnish and he's got an extremely interesting and titillating past. But that's a story for another day, okay?
Anyway, Grandpa Knudt (could you get more Norwegian than Knudt?) immigrated to America with his parents and most of his brothers and sisters (7 immigrated) when he was 16. When he was 24 he put a claim on some property and lived on it for six years with a couple of his buddies that needed a place to spend the winter.
Below is a picture of that homestead shack - one door, one window, dirt floor, no insulation of any kind, just bare boards over 2x4's. It was 10x10 - not very big. Imagine the wind and snow blowing in between the cracks in the winter when it's 40 below!!
The shack stood until just a few years ago. It was leaning so far by that time that a healthy breeze (like we get here in the Midwest) blew it over and then the scraps were burned.
The land that Grandpa Knudt homesteaded had initially been claimed by a family named Brown, but they unknowingly settled on the wrong land. They had intended to be one section over, but miscalculated somehow. The Browns had built and lived in a sod house. Unfortunately, Mr. Brown died during the summer that they were planning to move to the correct property. Grandpa Knudt put up a tent on the property to start his claim and lived in that for the summer. But winter came, Mrs. Brown was still living in the sod house and Knudt needed somewhere to live through the winter because a tent just wouldn't make it. So he moved in with friends on the next homestead - Ole and Nels Olson.
The men could see the sod house of Mrs. Brown from their shack and watched all winter to make sure there was smoke coming from the chimney. After a bad blizzard, they didn't see any smoke and decided they better check on Mrs. Brown. They snowshoed over to where the sod house was and found it completely covered with snow. They found Mrs. Brown outside where she had frozen to death attempting to care for her livestock.
After the homestead shack was built (picture above) Grandpa Knudt lived in it, along with his brother, Gilbert, and a friend named Johnny Aason.
After the homestead claim was completed Grandpa Knudt built a bigger house and a grainery. Eventually he built the big barn that I showed you in the previous entry. That's the house pictured below.
A few days ago I wrote an entry about how my Mom and Dad met. I made a reference to my Grandfather (Dad's father) and how he homesteaded in North Dakota and I promised you more interesting and titillating details (yeah, sure). Those old Norwegians were so stoic I don't know if they ever did anything interesting or titillating (snicker) But now the Finns - that's another story. You know that Ole is Finnish and he's got an extremely interesting and titillating past. But that's a story for another day, okay?
Anyway, Grandpa Knudt (could you get more Norwegian than Knudt?) immigrated to America with his parents and most of his brothers and sisters (7 immigrated) when he was 16. When he was 24 he put a claim on some property and lived on it for six years with a couple of his buddies that needed a place to spend the winter.
Below is a picture of that homestead shack - one door, one window, dirt floor, no insulation of any kind, just bare boards over 2x4's. It was 10x10 - not very big. Imagine the wind and snow blowing in between the cracks in the winter when it's 40 below!!
The shack stood until just a few years ago. It was leaning so far by that time that a healthy breeze (like we get here in the Midwest) blew it over and then the scraps were burned.
The land that Grandpa Knudt homesteaded had initially been claimed by a family named Brown, but they unknowingly settled on the wrong land. They had intended to be one section over, but miscalculated somehow. The Browns had built and lived in a sod house. Unfortunately, Mr. Brown died during the summer that they were planning to move to the correct property. Grandpa Knudt put up a tent on the property to start his claim and lived in that for the summer. But winter came, Mrs. Brown was still living in the sod house and Knudt needed somewhere to live through the winter because a tent just wouldn't make it. So he moved in with friends on the next homestead - Ole and Nels Olson.
The men could see the sod house of Mrs. Brown from their shack and watched all winter to make sure there was smoke coming from the chimney. After a bad blizzard, they didn't see any smoke and decided they better check on Mrs. Brown. They snowshoed over to where the sod house was and found it completely covered with snow. They found Mrs. Brown outside where she had frozen to death attempting to care for her livestock.
After the homestead shack was built (picture above) Grandpa Knudt lived in it, along with his brother, Gilbert, and a friend named Johnny Aason.
After the homestead claim was completed Grandpa Knudt built a bigger house and a grainery. Eventually he built the big barn that I showed you in the previous entry. That's the house pictured below.
Grandpa Knudt eventually found the girl of his dreams, named Mina (pronounced Meena) in 1903. She was at home with her parents on her wedding day waiting for Grandpa Knudt to pick her up in the buggy and take her to town for the wedding. Apparently he didn't get there when she expected him and she started crying, thinking that he had backed out of the wedding. But he finally arrived - late like a good Norwegian. After the ceremony, they was to be a reception at the Ole Oftedahl (another good Norwegian name) home. Between the parsonage and the reception someone found a full bottle of whiskey on the ground, so that was brought to the reception and everyone partied. Remember, it doesn't take much alcohol for a bunch of stoic old Norskies to loosen up.
Below are pictures of Grandpa Knudt and Grandma Mina on their wedding day.
They had six children. The first birth was a set of twin boys that died at birth. They were followed by three boys and one girl. Mina died at the age of 52 from cardiac complications from an affliction known as St. Vitus Dance, which she acquired as a child.
I never knew Grandma Mina, and very vaguely remember going to Grandpa Knudt's funeral. We were living in South Dakota at the time and it was winter. My father was notified of his father's death and we immediately packed the car, a 1953 Hudson, piled in and took off on a 350 mile trip. I remember it being very dark out, nighttime I suppose, and driving through a very heavy snowstorm. I so vividly remember the huge flakes flying at the windshield and it being very difficult to see. I will never forget as we got within just a few miles of our destination out of the ditch came a white horse and ran in front of the car. I remember being thrown into the dash as my father slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting the horse. It was obviously someone's horse who had gotten out of the pasture or barn, was confused and running with the storm.
Have I bored you enough yet? or do you want to hear more.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
I Don't Know what to Call this one!
On Sunday afternoon May came out and she, Lovely Daughter and I got a good handle on the wedding flowers. Everything is done with the exception of the bridal bouquet, the maid of honor's bouquet and the boutonnieres for the groom and groomsmen. Lovely Daughter had picked up the wrong shade of roses, so has to exchange them for the right ones and we're scheduled to finish the flowers on Thursday night.
My week is making me feel like a crazy woman (but then when is that different?). I'm madly trying to get my yard and house in shape to entertain 40 people on Sunday afternoon for a couples bridal shower. Neither of the gals giving the shower have a big enough house or a big enough yard to hold 40 people plus tables and chairs, so I volunteered our space. And of course, I can't just let things be as they are - I'm way too much of a perfectionist and need to have a weed-free backyard, a sculptured lawn and an immaculate house. Now I KNOW the house part isn't going to happen because the doggers just walk across the floor and deposit a load of hair. Oh, well, I'll just have to send Rosie the Rhoomba on a mission just before everybody gets here.
Last night I ran to Party America and picked up all the cups, plates, napkins, etc. that will be needed, and then came home and Ole helped me make chokecherry jelly. 10 pints, and they all sealed. The chokecherries were ready when we got home from Sturgis, and even though there wasn't enough to make a batch of wine he couldn't just leave the berries for the birds. So I managed to get the juice made right away before the berries spoiled and now we're gradually processing it into jelly. I LOVE chokecherry jelly, but I think I'll make the remainder of the juice into syrup for ice cream or pancakes. Mmmmm.
Anyway, Ole and I got the backyard taken care of yesterday so today I'll tackle the garage and the screen room. Busy, busy, busy.
Last night was Monday night and we didn't even go down to the Watering Hole for half price burgers. I'm so burned out on that place I can hardly even stand to go in there anymore. The owners have an "attitude," especially since their competition in town closed - it's like they're doing you a favor just to wait on you. As regular customers that our group has been, supporting them through some of their lean times, that just doesn't fly with me. Ole and I went in there on Friday night for their special. Jeff, the cook, makes the best barbecued ribs ever, so it's worth putting up with the owners to eat Jeff's ribs. But after sitting there for 15 minutes and being totally ignored we got up and left. Drove down the road to another little neighborhood bar and restaurant that's been around forever and had a great meal with none of the attitude.
I don't think I've ever written about the "attitude" in the Watering Hole. I'll have to do that some day.
Besides that, I don't miss seeing Jane either. But both she and Dick have been very scarce down there - maybe Jane is getting the idea that she's not very well liked around town.
Well, folks, I've got a wide row to hoe today so I best grab the tools and get going.
Love Lena
My week is making me feel like a crazy woman (but then when is that different?). I'm madly trying to get my yard and house in shape to entertain 40 people on Sunday afternoon for a couples bridal shower. Neither of the gals giving the shower have a big enough house or a big enough yard to hold 40 people plus tables and chairs, so I volunteered our space. And of course, I can't just let things be as they are - I'm way too much of a perfectionist and need to have a weed-free backyard, a sculptured lawn and an immaculate house. Now I KNOW the house part isn't going to happen because the doggers just walk across the floor and deposit a load of hair. Oh, well, I'll just have to send Rosie the Rhoomba on a mission just before everybody gets here.
Last night I ran to Party America and picked up all the cups, plates, napkins, etc. that will be needed, and then came home and Ole helped me make chokecherry jelly. 10 pints, and they all sealed. The chokecherries were ready when we got home from Sturgis, and even though there wasn't enough to make a batch of wine he couldn't just leave the berries for the birds. So I managed to get the juice made right away before the berries spoiled and now we're gradually processing it into jelly. I LOVE chokecherry jelly, but I think I'll make the remainder of the juice into syrup for ice cream or pancakes. Mmmmm.
Anyway, Ole and I got the backyard taken care of yesterday so today I'll tackle the garage and the screen room. Busy, busy, busy.
Last night was Monday night and we didn't even go down to the Watering Hole for half price burgers. I'm so burned out on that place I can hardly even stand to go in there anymore. The owners have an "attitude," especially since their competition in town closed - it's like they're doing you a favor just to wait on you. As regular customers that our group has been, supporting them through some of their lean times, that just doesn't fly with me. Ole and I went in there on Friday night for their special. Jeff, the cook, makes the best barbecued ribs ever, so it's worth putting up with the owners to eat Jeff's ribs. But after sitting there for 15 minutes and being totally ignored we got up and left. Drove down the road to another little neighborhood bar and restaurant that's been around forever and had a great meal with none of the attitude.
I don't think I've ever written about the "attitude" in the Watering Hole. I'll have to do that some day.
Besides that, I don't miss seeing Jane either. But both she and Dick have been very scarce down there - maybe Jane is getting the idea that she's not very well liked around town.
Well, folks, I've got a wide row to hoe today so I best grab the tools and get going.
Love Lena
Sunday, August 17, 2008
What's going on in my life right now?
Ole and I had such a good time last night. Bob & Carol's son and daughter-in-law had a belated housewarming party - you know - the barbecue and fire in the firepit kind of party. It was an absolutely perfect evening for it, too. Just a slight breeze, cooler temperatures than we have been having and a most beautiful sunset.
Lovely Daughter was there also, but Lars wasn't able to make it. He did a ride-along with the local police force last night. Apparently nothing exciting happened; nothing more than someone running a red light. But I'm sure it was an interesting experience and I'm anxious to talk to him about it.
Son and daughter-in-law are such a nice young couple. They're both in their mid 20s and have worked hard to be able to afford this new house. It's nothing extravagant, nor is it large, but very comfortable and nicely decorated. Bob & Carol and Ole & I were the "old timers" there. Otherwise it was attended by many of their co-workers and friends, all younger people in their 20s and 30s. But we didn't feel out of place at all as you could sometimes, when you're tossed into the midst of folks in that age group. Ole has a tendency to attract young people like a magnet - I think because of all his "extra-curricular interests." You know - like building and driving fast cars, riding motorcycles, etc. Not necessarily things that "old duffers" do, but things that interest young guys.
These guys were a hoot to talk to. They had obviously made a visit to the local Watering Hole before coming to the party, and were somewhat primed, if you know what I mean. Just a bit on the giggly side. They all played on the same softball team and had a tournament scheduled at 9 o'clock this morning. I'm sure glad I'm not in their shoes today - but then I guess at that age you recover more quickly than us old farts. Anyway, they had a designated driver (smart on their part), a young lady who decided to leave before they were ready to go. This kind of left them in a lurch, so Lovely Daughter and May, another older friend of Bob & Carol's gave the guys a ride home later in the evening. Lovely Daughter said it was quite interesting listening to all these young guys giggling in the back seat like a bunch of teenage girls.
Speaking of houses, Lovely Daughter and Lars have their eye on an old victorian in our little town. It needs a lot of TLC, but we're all so excited about the possibility of them getting into it. It's a beautiful old house, built in 1909, with all the wide oak woodwork, hardwood floors, gingerbread trim, 9 foot ceilings, and an attic that you could hold a dance in. I used to babysit the three boys that grew up in that house when I was a teenager. Things have changed slightly in it since that time, but nothing so drastic that it can't be restored back to the way it should be. Hopefully Lovely Daughter and Lars will hear something by next week - we're all waiting on pins and needles.
Lovely Daughter's wedding announcement was in today's paper. That made me actually realize how short the time is before the big day - and all the things that still need doing. She's having all fall colors for her wedding - with a fall leaves theme. It should be beautiful. The table arrangements for the reception are all done, but this afternoon we're scheduled to finish up the bridal bouquet, corsages and pew bows with the help of May, who used to own a flower shop and is quite the designer. I've ordered all the table linens - in gold - which should make quite an impact with all the flowers in orange, brown, burgundy, etc. Burgundy candles and napkins folded and fluffed out in each champagne glass, and little white lights hung to shine through behind all the table skirts. Don't worry - there will be pictures posted.
Well, on that note I've probably bored you long enough with this diatribe. It's time to get busy anway - or then maybe I'll go take a nap. Happy Sunday everyone.
Love Lena
Friday, August 15, 2008
Mom and Dad Get Acquainted
I mentioned in my last post that I was a half-breed; my father was Norwegian and my mother Swedish. Back in their day that was an unheard of combination. They just didn't mix socially at all. There was the Norwegian Lutheran church, and three miles away was the Swedish Lutheran church. My mother grew up a half mile from the Norwegian church, but every Sunday morning they rode three miles in a buggy or a car to the Swedish church. I guess it all goes way back to when the king of Sweden's armies overran Norway or some such thing. Swedes must not be very forgiving or something.
Anyway, Mom and Dad grew up on farms in North Dakota that were about three miles apart as the crow flies. Back then on Saturday nights there was usually a barn dance somewhere in the neighborhood. So one Saturday night, back in 1929, my mother went to a neighbor's barn dance, accompanied by several of her six brothers, of course. She was 24 years old at the time, and back then a young woman never went anywhere like that alone. She apparently caught my Dad's eye, because he came courting. This picture was taken June 16, 1929, the summer before the bottom fell out of the stock market and the Great Depression began.
Anyway, Mom and Dad grew up on farms in North Dakota that were about three miles apart as the crow flies. Back then on Saturday nights there was usually a barn dance somewhere in the neighborhood. So one Saturday night, back in 1929, my mother went to a neighbor's barn dance, accompanied by several of her six brothers, of course. She was 24 years old at the time, and back then a young woman never went anywhere like that alone. She apparently caught my Dad's eye, because he came courting. This picture was taken June 16, 1929, the summer before the bottom fell out of the stock market and the Great Depression began.
That's my Dad's sister behind the wheel in the car. Young couples weren't allowed to date alone then, at least not in my Grandfather's house!!
Time went on and there must have been many more dates because they didn't get married until November of 1932.
I still have my mother's wedding gown packed away. It was pastel pink. I also have the shoes she wore. They were married in the parsonage of the Swedish church (of course) and then had a small dinner party at my grandmother's house. When I was going through her things after she died I found the Certificate of Authenticity for the diamond engagement ring that Dad bought her. He mail ordered it from Montgomery Ward and it cost $29.95. It's a beautiful ring with a quarter carat diamond and two sapphires on each side set in an antique filigree setting. She gave it to me and I have since passed it on to Lovely Daughter who wears it on a daily basis.
Speaking of barn dances and barns, here's a picture of the barn that was on my grandfather's farm (my Dad's dad) - the biggest barn in the entire county.
This picture was taken many years ago. The barn has since fallen down and the remains burned. How sad that it couldn't have been saved, but think of the expense of putting a roof on something that big. Imagine the barn dance you could have had in that hay mow - and all the hanky panky that could have gone one in the dark corners (snicker)!
Anyway, my paternal Grandfather was a big farmer. He raised a lot of cattle and farmed with horses, thus the big barn for all the livestock. He also homesteaded this property back in 1894. I'll tell you more about that another day.
Now I need to get out of my jammies, get some street clothes on and head to the grocery store.
Love, Lena
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The Atrocities of being ScandiHOOvian
I have a deep, dark secret that I need to share with my Blogging readers.
(Whispers behind hand) I'm a half-breed!! Yes, I am of mixed blood, not that that makes me either a better or a worse person than any of you. I've posted pictures of myself on previous entries, and even though my pictures are of someone who is tall and blond (Ole says I'm platinum, (gray) makes me more valuable, ya know) with blue eyes, the truth be known - I'm a half-breed. And it HAS affected me greatly throughout my childhood and on into my adult life. My mother was Swedish and my father was Norwegian - a mixture that, back in their day, wasn't supposed to mix well, so you can imagine what it's done to my psyche.
I've made reference previously to my ScandiHOOvian-Lutheran upbringing, and if any of you are familiar with the old-time ScandiHOOvians, you know how stoic they are. Showing any kind of emotion is against the rules, regardless of what the issue. A good example would be the day that Ole and I announced that there would be a baby Ole or Lena in about nine months. My father was sitting at the kitchen table with a grin from ear to ear, but the first words out of his mouth were to Ole, "Well, when shall we go fishing, then? There's a big one waiting to be caught." That's when I knew he was excited about having another grandchild.
Another unspoken rule was never to brag about yourself or any of your accomplishments. That would draw attention and that was certainly something that you didn't want. Fading into the background was a much more positive attribute. ScandiHOOvians believed there was only one right way to live - their way. From their vantage point problems were either black or white and all solutions were cut and dried. There were no such words as "feeling blue" or "down" in their vocabulary - but the words "buck up", "pull up your boot straps," etc., were heard frequently.
Speaking of black and white, color was another thing that was almost non-existant. Show me a ScandiHoovian woman who wears bright dresses and red fingernail polish and she sure must have some Italian or Spanish in her blood somewhere. ScandiHOOvian women bought red nail polish for one reason - they used it to mark the bottoms of their dishes and pans that they brought to funerals and other doings. It held up better than masking tape. To this day IF I put polish on my fingernails, it's always a pale color, most usually clear or natural. And I so well remember my mother and Big Sister, marking their bowls and pans with red nail polish.
The ScandiHOOvian preference for white can be seen in their food choices also. Among the favorites are lutefisk, lefse, fish balls, potatoes, onions, cabbage, flatbread, buttermilk, fattigmand, glorified rice, rommegrot, a krumkaka here and there. And as far as spices go, salt was a staple and pepper was getting quite daring. You were really brave if you used ketchup! Foods from other ethnicities were adapted and toned down. If you wanted to add color and flare, you just added a can of peas. Homemade vegetable soup was brightened with carrots, but topped with dumplings. Marshmallows were put over squash and corn not only creamed but covered with crackers. How about chocolate cake covered with white boiled frosting, and the staple of all ScandiHOOvian gatherings, red jello toned down with a white banana floating on top.
Beige isn't white, but it was the closest thing to colorless that a ScandiHOOvian woman could find. Historically, the lady of the house never went in for show. She would put on a beige dress, paint her nails with clear polish, splash on a dab (not too much now) of Evening in Paris and that would be about as much flash as you could expect to see. She would anxiously anticipate Memorial Day so she could once again bring out her white shoes.
Additionally, religion somehow got mixed up with trying to keep things pure and white. None of the Big Shots in the church knew that the uproar caused by the introduction of the NEW RED hymnals had nothing to do with the music or liturgy at all. Who would imagine that the Lutheran Church would ever have agreed to have RED hymnals in the back of the pew racks?
And then there's the story about when Lars Olson died. His wife decided to have an autopsy done, and when the doctors got to the brain they had a terrible time to determine what was in it. When they finally got it open they found 1) white matter 2) red matter and 3) black matter. They couldn't locate any gray matter. As a matter of fact the bulk of the brain was pretty much all black and white.
The biggest area was the black matter. It was determined that this area was made up of personal problems, but was buried so deeply that it was hard to explore. Everything was all blackened out with the exception of a few words that surfaced - "Keep it to yourself, it's not that bad. No one should know if you're unhappy."
Next came the white matter, which was divided into the sections of farming, fishing, passion and communication. It shouldn't surprise you that the passion and communication areas were by far the smallest.
Then the red matter - the doctors weren't sure if that came from all the jello the man ate at doings or the pent up anger against the new red hymnals that were introduced in the late 50s.
So now you know all about the inner conflict that I deal with on a day to day basis and why it's there. And then adding Ole to the recipe, who is a Finlander, makes life more interesting - but that's okay. I'll just keep it all to myself. It's just not that bad. I'll just buck up and pull up my boot straps.
Love, Lena
(Whispers behind hand) I'm a half-breed!! Yes, I am of mixed blood, not that that makes me either a better or a worse person than any of you. I've posted pictures of myself on previous entries, and even though my pictures are of someone who is tall and blond (Ole says I'm platinum, (gray) makes me more valuable, ya know) with blue eyes, the truth be known - I'm a half-breed. And it HAS affected me greatly throughout my childhood and on into my adult life. My mother was Swedish and my father was Norwegian - a mixture that, back in their day, wasn't supposed to mix well, so you can imagine what it's done to my psyche.
I've made reference previously to my ScandiHOOvian-Lutheran upbringing, and if any of you are familiar with the old-time ScandiHOOvians, you know how stoic they are. Showing any kind of emotion is against the rules, regardless of what the issue. A good example would be the day that Ole and I announced that there would be a baby Ole or Lena in about nine months. My father was sitting at the kitchen table with a grin from ear to ear, but the first words out of his mouth were to Ole, "Well, when shall we go fishing, then? There's a big one waiting to be caught." That's when I knew he was excited about having another grandchild.
Another unspoken rule was never to brag about yourself or any of your accomplishments. That would draw attention and that was certainly something that you didn't want. Fading into the background was a much more positive attribute. ScandiHOOvians believed there was only one right way to live - their way. From their vantage point problems were either black or white and all solutions were cut and dried. There were no such words as "feeling blue" or "down" in their vocabulary - but the words "buck up", "pull up your boot straps," etc., were heard frequently.
Speaking of black and white, color was another thing that was almost non-existant. Show me a ScandiHoovian woman who wears bright dresses and red fingernail polish and she sure must have some Italian or Spanish in her blood somewhere. ScandiHOOvian women bought red nail polish for one reason - they used it to mark the bottoms of their dishes and pans that they brought to funerals and other doings. It held up better than masking tape. To this day IF I put polish on my fingernails, it's always a pale color, most usually clear or natural. And I so well remember my mother and Big Sister, marking their bowls and pans with red nail polish.
The ScandiHOOvian preference for white can be seen in their food choices also. Among the favorites are lutefisk, lefse, fish balls, potatoes, onions, cabbage, flatbread, buttermilk, fattigmand, glorified rice, rommegrot, a krumkaka here and there. And as far as spices go, salt was a staple and pepper was getting quite daring. You were really brave if you used ketchup! Foods from other ethnicities were adapted and toned down. If you wanted to add color and flare, you just added a can of peas. Homemade vegetable soup was brightened with carrots, but topped with dumplings. Marshmallows were put over squash and corn not only creamed but covered with crackers. How about chocolate cake covered with white boiled frosting, and the staple of all ScandiHOOvian gatherings, red jello toned down with a white banana floating on top.
Beige isn't white, but it was the closest thing to colorless that a ScandiHOOvian woman could find. Historically, the lady of the house never went in for show. She would put on a beige dress, paint her nails with clear polish, splash on a dab (not too much now) of Evening in Paris and that would be about as much flash as you could expect to see. She would anxiously anticipate Memorial Day so she could once again bring out her white shoes.
Additionally, religion somehow got mixed up with trying to keep things pure and white. None of the Big Shots in the church knew that the uproar caused by the introduction of the NEW RED hymnals had nothing to do with the music or liturgy at all. Who would imagine that the Lutheran Church would ever have agreed to have RED hymnals in the back of the pew racks?
And then there's the story about when Lars Olson died. His wife decided to have an autopsy done, and when the doctors got to the brain they had a terrible time to determine what was in it. When they finally got it open they found 1) white matter 2) red matter and 3) black matter. They couldn't locate any gray matter. As a matter of fact the bulk of the brain was pretty much all black and white.
The biggest area was the black matter. It was determined that this area was made up of personal problems, but was buried so deeply that it was hard to explore. Everything was all blackened out with the exception of a few words that surfaced - "Keep it to yourself, it's not that bad. No one should know if you're unhappy."
Next came the white matter, which was divided into the sections of farming, fishing, passion and communication. It shouldn't surprise you that the passion and communication areas were by far the smallest.
Then the red matter - the doctors weren't sure if that came from all the jello the man ate at doings or the pent up anger against the new red hymnals that were introduced in the late 50s.
So now you know all about the inner conflict that I deal with on a day to day basis and why it's there. And then adding Ole to the recipe, who is a Finlander, makes life more interesting - but that's okay. I'll just keep it all to myself. It's just not that bad. I'll just buck up and pull up my boot straps.
Love, Lena
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Ole and Lena's Secrets
I've noticed since I've reincarnated my blog from the Adventures of Ole and Lena to Tales from Frostbite Falls, I've sucked in a few new readers here and there. I hope you keep coming back, New Readers, and please stop by the comments section and introduce yourself. I love to meet new people and read new blogs.
Because of that, I've decided to post an updated version of a video I made some time ago. You Old Timers have seen some of it before, but there's new stuff in it too. Enjoy.
Because of that, I've decided to post an updated version of a video I made some time ago. You Old Timers have seen some of it before, but there's new stuff in it too. Enjoy.
Now - please stop by to say goddag (good day).
Monday, August 11, 2008
And Everything Exploded
It was dark when we got home last night, so of course I couldn't go out in my back yard and see what had happened during the 10 days we had been gone. You can guess where I went first thing this morning. Needless to say I was amazed. You just never notice how much growth there is when you see things every day. But when you've been away for a period of time - things seem to go "kaboom!" I have a watering system hooked up, which injects fertilizer into the lines, and I have it set to water on a daily basis. That might help just a tish. So here's a little tour:
The humming birds love the red salvia in this picture. On the left is grape that Ole planted this spring. It's already half way up a 10 foot arbor.
That's a wisteria with all the tendrils hanging out looking for a place to climb. I would allow it to climb, but then I'd have to chop it down in the fall because I have to take it in. It's not hardy here.
The humming birds love the red salvia in this picture. On the left is grape that Ole planted this spring. It's already half way up a 10 foot arbor.
That's a wisteria with all the tendrils hanging out looking for a place to climb. I would allow it to climb, but then I'd have to chop it down in the fall because I have to take it in. It's not hardy here.
I absolutely love ferns and have a ton of them in the ground in various places around the house. I also love the potted hanging variety and I must say this one is humongous! It's in a perfect place - shaded and no wind, and with the humidity we have here it does very well. Below that is a Christmas cactus - it belonged to my grandmother who passed it to my mom who gave it to me when she didn't have room for it anymore. I keep it outside in the shade all summer long and don't take it in until the temps reach about 40 degrees in the fall. It never fails to bless me with a beautiful display of flowers starting around Thanksgiving until some time in January.
This is a daylily that's put on quite a display for me. I think it's called Pirate's Cove. I bought it from a magazine ad that didn't have the price posted, but thinking a daylily couldn't be more than $10 or $15 at the most. Boy was I surprised when the bill came - it was just a "wee" bit more than that. Ole would have my head if he knew what I ended up paying for it Oh, well.
I was so thrilled to see this one come up this year. Years ago my mother used to have a big bed of old fashioned tiger lilies. So of course when we started landscaping I got some from her. Over the years they seemed to have disappeared. Now after about 10 years, this one popped up out of nowhere. Believe me, I'll baby it along so it will reproduce.
That's a clematis vine - too bad the beautiful purple blossoms don't show up better, but it's just covered. I love clematis - I've got four huge trellises with different colors on each one.
And here's my snowball bush. It's blossomed for me before, but the heads have never been this big. I'm going to pick them and dry them this fall because they turn a beautiful burnished bronze color when they're dry.
There you have it, Folks, just a bit of a tour of current conditions. Friends of Lovely Daughter's are having an engagement party for her and Lars in a couple of weeks. I volunteered my backyard because neither of the girls giving the party have back yards big enough to hold all the people invited. I was a bit concerned that it wouldn't be in shape for an event after being gone for a couple of weeks. Usually by that time the weeds are taller than the flowers. But things look like they're well under control, so it should be okay.
Well, I guess I've goofed off enough for today. Today's plan is to unload and clean the RV. It won't be too big a job though - not as big a job as loading because I'm leaving a lot of the things in it because we plan to take off again in October, barring any surgery complications with Ole's leg.
BTW, just an update on that: Ole's leg is looking pretty darn good these days. Granted, at this point he could probably win the world's ugliest leg contest, but it's so much better than it was. He goes in to see the surgeon next week, so we should know more where he stands then. He sunburned his lower lip when out riding and he says that hurts worse than the leg now. So I KNOW he's making progress.
Ta, ta!! More later.
Love Lena
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Saturday Night in Sturgis
There was a shooting in downtown Sturgis on Friday night in the Loud American Roadhouse. About 2 a.m. a Hell’s Angel and a member of the Iron Pigs got into it. I understand they were both from the Seattle area, and knew each other from there. I had never heard of the Iron Pigs before, but found out through the local newspaper that they are a group of policemen and firemen. What precipitated the shooting wasn’t published in the paper, but it was the Iron Pig cop that pulled the gun and shot the Hell’s Angel. The newspaper article led me to believe that there was going to try to be a cover up regarding this situation. The Police Chief from Seattle was already on his way here to help with the investigation. Guess I’m glad we were home tucked in bed by that time.
We had good intentions on Saturday afternoon. We intended to ride up to Rochert, a quaint little town way up in the hills. But by the time we reached Deadwood there were some bad storm clouds blowing in over the top of the mountain, so we stopped for a quick lunch and went back down the hill to Sturgis. We waited out the storm that never materialized by watching a movie. At least it never materialized in Sturgis, but we heard on the radio that Deadwood and Lead and golf ball sized hail. So I guess I’m glad we weren’t there either.
So because we had been so tame all day we decided to take our lives in our hands and venture into Sturgis on Saturday night. You never know what you’ll find after dark. We sat for a couple of hours people watching and here’s what we saw.
Pretty boring, huh? No weirdoes last night. So back to camp we went. We packed up early this morning and were on the road by 10:30. We had to say goodbye to our good friends, Dave and Karen, from Arizona, which always brings a few tears. They are such dear people.
So we’re currently on the road out in the middle of nowhere – it’s 75 miles to the nearest town and all we’ve seen for the last hour is hay bales and antelope, along with large gates with ranch names, and gravel roads leading across the prairie to the ranch that may be many miles down the road. Should be home around 9 o’clock tonight (Sunday).
We had good intentions on Saturday afternoon. We intended to ride up to Rochert, a quaint little town way up in the hills. But by the time we reached Deadwood there were some bad storm clouds blowing in over the top of the mountain, so we stopped for a quick lunch and went back down the hill to Sturgis. We waited out the storm that never materialized by watching a movie. At least it never materialized in Sturgis, but we heard on the radio that Deadwood and Lead and golf ball sized hail. So I guess I’m glad we weren’t there either.
So because we had been so tame all day we decided to take our lives in our hands and venture into Sturgis on Saturday night. You never know what you’ll find after dark. We sat for a couple of hours people watching and here’s what we saw.
Pretty boring, huh? No weirdoes last night. So back to camp we went. We packed up early this morning and were on the road by 10:30. We had to say goodbye to our good friends, Dave and Karen, from Arizona, which always brings a few tears. They are such dear people.
So we’re currently on the road out in the middle of nowhere – it’s 75 miles to the nearest town and all we’ve seen for the last hour is hay bales and antelope, along with large gates with ranch names, and gravel roads leading across the prairie to the ranch that may be many miles down the road. Should be home around 9 o’clock tonight (Sunday).
Saturday, August 9, 2008
It Could be a Crabby Day
I could be crabby today, but I decided not to. Isn’t that big of me?
I tried to sleep in this morning as I haven’t been sleeping very well since we got here. Too much on my mind, I guess. Before 8 o’clock I woke up to voices out in the front end of the RV. Fortunately, Ole had closed the bedroom door when he answered the door so I wasn’t lying snoring and drooliong on my pillow in front of God and everybody, you know. So when I opened the bedroom door who should I find in my living room having coffee with Ole but Dick and Jane!! They got in about 10 o’clock last night and set up their tent just down the road from us. They couldn’t park on our lot this year because it was already full with Dan’s truck and trailer. Oh, too bad.
So I made nicey-nice with Jane for a bit this morning and heard all about the horrors of their trip. Jane got a Harley this year so they decided to take a week and put some miles on. They rode from home out to Glacier Park, then to Idaho; over to Red Lodge, Montana; over Bear Tooth Pass, down through Wyoming and into the Black Hills. They averaged 450 miles a day, with the last day getting into Sturgis at 550 miles. That’s a LOT of miles on a motorcycle in one day, especially when the temps are in the 90s and there’s a wind blowing. And they didn’t stop to see anything – they just put miles on. What fun is that? But I guess it’s their trip – not mine. So she had nothing to say about anything fun – just how hard it had been to get from Point A to Point B. If that’s the only thing I had to talk about after taking a trip like that, I think I’d rather stay home.
Ole and I spent the afternoon wandering around downtown Sturgis. Or I should say I wandered around downtown. Ole sat on his bike and people watched. I don’t think he felt very good this afternoon and I tried to convince him to go back to the RV and take a nap, but he wouldn’t have it – afraid he’d miss something I guess. Darn Men. It was so terribly hot downtown this afternoon that I didn’t enjoy myself either. I get so wiped out when it’s so hot. And if you could dress appropriately for such hot weather – shorts and sandals and such – it maybe wouldn’t be so bad. But shorts and sandals are definitely not appropriate attire for riding on the back of a bike. All that denim and leather is a reasonably good guard against road rash if you should happen to lay that bike down for some reason. So jeans and boots make life a bit on the extremely warm side when you’re wandering the concrete sidewalks looking for bargains. And I didn’t even find any!!
So when I wandered back to the bike what should I find but Ole sitting there fast asleep. Now you’ve either got to be really tired to fall asleep on the back of a motorcycle, or probably have turned your hearing aides off. Guess which one Ole did? How about both? You can’t imagine the roar of the engines on a constant basis on the main street of Sturgis. So somebody who can fall asleep sitting up with all that noise – there’s got to be “issues” there – believe me. Could I convince him to come back to camp and take a nap? Nu-uh. Not Ole. He might miss something – never mind the fact that his hearing aides are turned off and his eyes are closed!!
So when Dan showed up, Ole regained consciousness and we decided to take a little road trip up to Deadwood, just to ride and cool off. We stopped at the VFW and had a sodie-pop and then came back down the mountain and eventually ended up back at the RV. I was so glad to get away from all that downtown heat and all the throngs of people.
Yes, there are throngs of folks here from all over the world. We’ve seen license plates from Russia, England, lots from Japan, France, Norway, German – you get the idea. But still the Rapid City Journal reports that the attendance is down approximately 40%. That’s quite a drop over last year. And you can tell the attendance is way down due to all the open spots in the campgrounds, vacancy signs on motels, and parking spaces available downtown.
It’s 11 o’clock, I’ve put Ole to bed, and my kitties are looking at me trying to convince me it’s time, too. Simon is such an excellent traveler, and I think Lucy is taking lessons from him. Although last night she wanted to play with him desperately, and at his age he thinks that’s just a bunch of nonsense. He was sitting in the middle of the floor looking pleased with himself for some reason when she sat down in front of him and whapped him across the face. Poor old guy didn’t know what hit him and backed up a bit. She immediately moved forward and wash, rinse, repeat. He’d had enough so he turned tail and tried to walk away when she whapped him across the behind and then sat there just trying to egg him on. He’s such a gentleman he just didn’t react. She tried her hardest to get him to play last night but he wouldn’t have it. I think she gets lonesome when we’re gone all day. But we’ll be home in a few days and she’ll have other things to entertain her.
Me? I’m off to bed. Night everyone.
I tried to sleep in this morning as I haven’t been sleeping very well since we got here. Too much on my mind, I guess. Before 8 o’clock I woke up to voices out in the front end of the RV. Fortunately, Ole had closed the bedroom door when he answered the door so I wasn’t lying snoring and drooliong on my pillow in front of God and everybody, you know. So when I opened the bedroom door who should I find in my living room having coffee with Ole but Dick and Jane!! They got in about 10 o’clock last night and set up their tent just down the road from us. They couldn’t park on our lot this year because it was already full with Dan’s truck and trailer. Oh, too bad.
So I made nicey-nice with Jane for a bit this morning and heard all about the horrors of their trip. Jane got a Harley this year so they decided to take a week and put some miles on. They rode from home out to Glacier Park, then to Idaho; over to Red Lodge, Montana; over Bear Tooth Pass, down through Wyoming and into the Black Hills. They averaged 450 miles a day, with the last day getting into Sturgis at 550 miles. That’s a LOT of miles on a motorcycle in one day, especially when the temps are in the 90s and there’s a wind blowing. And they didn’t stop to see anything – they just put miles on. What fun is that? But I guess it’s their trip – not mine. So she had nothing to say about anything fun – just how hard it had been to get from Point A to Point B. If that’s the only thing I had to talk about after taking a trip like that, I think I’d rather stay home.
Ole and I spent the afternoon wandering around downtown Sturgis. Or I should say I wandered around downtown. Ole sat on his bike and people watched. I don’t think he felt very good this afternoon and I tried to convince him to go back to the RV and take a nap, but he wouldn’t have it – afraid he’d miss something I guess. Darn Men. It was so terribly hot downtown this afternoon that I didn’t enjoy myself either. I get so wiped out when it’s so hot. And if you could dress appropriately for such hot weather – shorts and sandals and such – it maybe wouldn’t be so bad. But shorts and sandals are definitely not appropriate attire for riding on the back of a bike. All that denim and leather is a reasonably good guard against road rash if you should happen to lay that bike down for some reason. So jeans and boots make life a bit on the extremely warm side when you’re wandering the concrete sidewalks looking for bargains. And I didn’t even find any!!
So when I wandered back to the bike what should I find but Ole sitting there fast asleep. Now you’ve either got to be really tired to fall asleep on the back of a motorcycle, or probably have turned your hearing aides off. Guess which one Ole did? How about both? You can’t imagine the roar of the engines on a constant basis on the main street of Sturgis. So somebody who can fall asleep sitting up with all that noise – there’s got to be “issues” there – believe me. Could I convince him to come back to camp and take a nap? Nu-uh. Not Ole. He might miss something – never mind the fact that his hearing aides are turned off and his eyes are closed!!
So when Dan showed up, Ole regained consciousness and we decided to take a little road trip up to Deadwood, just to ride and cool off. We stopped at the VFW and had a sodie-pop and then came back down the mountain and eventually ended up back at the RV. I was so glad to get away from all that downtown heat and all the throngs of people.
Yes, there are throngs of folks here from all over the world. We’ve seen license plates from Russia, England, lots from Japan, France, Norway, German – you get the idea. But still the Rapid City Journal reports that the attendance is down approximately 40%. That’s quite a drop over last year. And you can tell the attendance is way down due to all the open spots in the campgrounds, vacancy signs on motels, and parking spaces available downtown.
It’s 11 o’clock, I’ve put Ole to bed, and my kitties are looking at me trying to convince me it’s time, too. Simon is such an excellent traveler, and I think Lucy is taking lessons from him. Although last night she wanted to play with him desperately, and at his age he thinks that’s just a bunch of nonsense. He was sitting in the middle of the floor looking pleased with himself for some reason when she sat down in front of him and whapped him across the face. Poor old guy didn’t know what hit him and backed up a bit. She immediately moved forward and wash, rinse, repeat. He’d had enough so he turned tail and tried to walk away when she whapped him across the behind and then sat there just trying to egg him on. He’s such a gentleman he just didn’t react. She tried her hardest to get him to play last night but he wouldn’t have it. I think she gets lonesome when we’re gone all day. But we’ll be home in a few days and she’ll have other things to entertain her.
Me? I’m off to bed. Night everyone.
Something just a bit curious on the street.
The Ole' Homestead
Respite at the end of Spearfish Canyon - the DQ!
Friday, August 8, 2008
We're Still Here
Still here, still reporting from the Sturgis Bike Rally. We’ve covered a few more miles since last time I wrote – went on one of my most favorite rides here in the Hills.
We went over Terry Peak and drove down Spearfish Canyon. The canyon is full of log homes built up in the cliffs overlooking Spearfish Creek. And as the sun gets lower in the western sky the cliffs change color to the most beautiful, warm, golden color. The road is full of 20 miles of gentle curves that run along the creek that flows over a lot of rocks. Along the road about halfway through the canyon is a waterfall called Bridal Veil Falls. Most years when we visit there, there is very little water flowing by this time of the year due to lack of rainfall in this part of the state. But apparently there has been adequate rainfall this year because the falls was pretty impressive. And besides that – at the end of Spearfish Canyon is the Dairy Queen. We certainly couldn’t miss a stop at one of nature’s best features (snicker)
Speaking of rain, we sat through a pretty terrific storm Tuesday night. We had been watching the clouds building all afternoon to the west. I had checked the Internet weather and knew that something was moving in. About 6:30 the radio started issuing warnings for heavy rain, hail and 80 mph winds and the sirens in town went off. All the folks in the campground started loading their bikes back into their trailers, or those that didn’t have trailers tried to get them under some kind of shelter. At the campground next to us there was a big sound stage all set up to host a bit concert last night. Lightening struck some of that structure, and three people who were standing next to the structure had to be taken to the hospital. We heard the next day that some of the campgrounds were so muddy from all the rain that people couldn’t even get their bikes out. Fortunately our campground is pretty sandy with a lot of grass (it’s an old pasture) so we didn’t have that issue.
We spent Wednesday afternoon in Deadwood where Karen did her share of feeding the slot machines and of course coming out with nothing. The rest of us sat on a bench out in front of the casino and people watched. It’s truly surprising what you can see by just being an observer – there’s some really strange stuff out there. I haven’t taken pictures of much of it because we’ve spent most of our time on the bikes moving about. But I’ll try to get some good shots of a few things within the next day or two.
Dan and a friend of his arrived this afternoon to spend a few days. Dan doesn’t ride a Harley – he rides a Victory, but we don’t hold that against him and let him camp with us anyway (snicker). Tomorrow Dick and Jane are supposed to arrive at some point. They called yesterday from Butte, Montana, and were planning to spend today going over Bear Tooth Pass and end up in Cody, Wyoming.
So nothing too exciting happening – just beautiful weather that makes for beautiful riding. This is the first year in many that we’ve hit it so perfectly. Usually it’s so cold you have to leather up, or so hot you can’t drink enough water to stay hydrated. This year we’ve not had to wear jackets at all; t-shirts have been all we’ve needed. Just soak up the sun and the warm wind.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Wanna Go for a ride on the back of a Harley?
I'm back at Blogspot because Wordpress and I just didn't get along very well. It wouldn't let me do a lot of the things that I wanted - and being I'm a stubborn Norwegian and wouldn't give in I had to find a spot that was more cooperative. So anyway - read on.
Sunday we covered a lot of territory. Neighbor Dave's brother and girlfriend were visiting, and she had never been here before so we tried to pack as much into one day as we possibly could. Made for sore butt cheeks by the end of the day, but it was fun. And Ole's leg held up quite well, although I didn't. By the end of the day my back was killing me, which precipitated a visit to a local chiropractor yesterday.
He was a young guy, just out of school by about a year, and when he was done working me over I told me that I wished he practiced in my City. I also asked him if he rode a motorcycle and his response was "No, he was a cowboy, raised on a ranch up by Bowman, ND, so he stuck to horses, not bikes."
Speaking of ranches/farms: there is a father son combination camping next to us who are from Huron, SD. They've camped in the same spot for the last 5 years, just like we have, so you kind of get to know people that keep coming back to the same place. Dad and Son operate 6000 acres, 3000 on which they grow wheat. Can you imagine looking at all that grain waving in the wind? I'm sure it's a beautiful site. On the other 3000 acres they raise beef cattle and horses.
Another couple that we've gotten to know, Rocky and Billie, are from Kansas and have also been camping in the same spot for the last 5 years. They have a black lab named Norton who is a real hoot. He's everyone's buddy and always comes running out to greet you and lick you all over whenever he sees you.
Our weather has been great for biking - it's been hot and so far we haven't had to deal with any rain. There have been storms, but they've all gone around us - way different than last year when we had to contend with lots of storms, rain and even large hail.
John McCain spoke at the Freedom Rally at the Buffalo Chip campground last night. We would have loved to have attended, but when we checked it out the tickets just to get in the gate of the Buffalo Chip were $63 a head - and the security, as you can imagine, was horrendous. You had to be in the secured stage area by 3 o'clock in the afternoon and from then on you weren't allowed to leave. McCain wasn't scheduled to speak until 7:30, so that would have been a very long wait in the hot sun.
Ole's leg continues to improve daily which is certainly a good thing. I truly had some major concerns when we started out on this trip and over the first day or so. But things so seem to be turning around a bit on that issue. So we're having a great time, although keeping a very low profile. Lots of the rides that we take every year will have to be put on hold until next year. But that's okay - at least we're here and on a vacation that we both needed very badly.
So hop on the back here - hold on tight because there are a few bumps in the road.
Hope you had fun!!
Sunday we covered a lot of territory. Neighbor Dave's brother and girlfriend were visiting, and she had never been here before so we tried to pack as much into one day as we possibly could. Made for sore butt cheeks by the end of the day, but it was fun. And Ole's leg held up quite well, although I didn't. By the end of the day my back was killing me, which precipitated a visit to a local chiropractor yesterday.
He was a young guy, just out of school by about a year, and when he was done working me over I told me that I wished he practiced in my City. I also asked him if he rode a motorcycle and his response was "No, he was a cowboy, raised on a ranch up by Bowman, ND, so he stuck to horses, not bikes."
Speaking of ranches/farms: there is a father son combination camping next to us who are from Huron, SD. They've camped in the same spot for the last 5 years, just like we have, so you kind of get to know people that keep coming back to the same place. Dad and Son operate 6000 acres, 3000 on which they grow wheat. Can you imagine looking at all that grain waving in the wind? I'm sure it's a beautiful site. On the other 3000 acres they raise beef cattle and horses.
Another couple that we've gotten to know, Rocky and Billie, are from Kansas and have also been camping in the same spot for the last 5 years. They have a black lab named Norton who is a real hoot. He's everyone's buddy and always comes running out to greet you and lick you all over whenever he sees you.
Our weather has been great for biking - it's been hot and so far we haven't had to deal with any rain. There have been storms, but they've all gone around us - way different than last year when we had to contend with lots of storms, rain and even large hail.
John McCain spoke at the Freedom Rally at the Buffalo Chip campground last night. We would have loved to have attended, but when we checked it out the tickets just to get in the gate of the Buffalo Chip were $63 a head - and the security, as you can imagine, was horrendous. You had to be in the secured stage area by 3 o'clock in the afternoon and from then on you weren't allowed to leave. McCain wasn't scheduled to speak until 7:30, so that would have been a very long wait in the hot sun.
Ole's leg continues to improve daily which is certainly a good thing. I truly had some major concerns when we started out on this trip and over the first day or so. But things so seem to be turning around a bit on that issue. So we're having a great time, although keeping a very low profile. Lots of the rides that we take every year will have to be put on hold until next year. But that's okay - at least we're here and on a vacation that we both needed very badly.
So hop on the back here - hold on tight because there are a few bumps in the road.
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