Tales from Frostbite Falls

Gray Hair, Bald Heads and Hearing Aids

2011-05-07T18:34:00.003-05:00

I discovered something today. When you're from the Far Nort'land you have to get used to the heat gradually. If somebody just drops you into the middle of it - you suffer. It definitely is easier if you can work into it gradually. And considering the fact that we've had COLD temps back home, we're a long ways from acclimating. Today Missouri decided to show us what it felt like to be back at 85 degrees again - with humidity because it rained last night. I guess it's a good thing we're heading home tomorrow as the next week is supposed to register in the upper 80s here. At this point our blood is still too thick to withstand that.

This afternoon I saw more bald heads, gray hair and hearing aids in one place than I've seen for a long time - we went to a show called "Hank Revisited," an excellent impersonator of Hank Williams, Sr. The young man that did the show (Tim Hadler) was absolutely fantastic, along with his band that consisted of a steel guitar, fiddle and bass player. You would have thought you were staring at Hank, Sr. and you were for sure hearing him live. He and his band entertained us for 2 and a half hours. But then you have to be of a certain "age group" just to remember who Hank Sr. is. He far surpassed the Patsy Cline show we went to yesterday.

Branson is so full of very talented people just looking for a break. There are street musicians all over, playing on the corners with the instrument cases open hoping to collect tips but more so hoping to get discovered. It's incredible. Tim Hadler has been to Nashville and played at the Grand Ole Opry, so he's at least got his foot in the door.

Well, to every good time there comes an end. Tomorrow we head north - back to Minnesota. Hopefully Minnesota has decided to let spring arrive and will show us some warmer temperatures and a bit of sunshine.

Love, Lena

The Quilt Shop to End All Quilt Shops

2011-05-05T17:47:00.005-05:00

I left you last Monday after we'd been out touring with Don and Bernie in the rain. There's that word again - it follows us around - the huge black cloud that seems to hang over our heads.

Tuesday it decided not to rain and give us a bit of sunshine, but it was COLD. And, of course, being from The Far North, we (Ole) would never admit that he needed a leather jacket to ride the bike that day. So I followed suit, thinking that Ole knows best and just wore my light Harley jacket and darn near froze my buns off. We took a tour through the historic loop of Eureka Springs, and then turned around and did it backwards when we met this wonderful invention called a TOUR BUS. Actually it was a tram that took you through the historic section of town with a tour guide that spouted all the historic rhetoric. It really was interesting, and much warmer to say the least. At least I'm not afraid to admit when I'm cold ~ ~ ~

Here's some of the facts that we learned: Eureka Springs was settled in 1829 (pretty old for this far west) by trappers and hunters, who of course didn't get along very well with the local Indians. Later on people settled the area because of the springs which were thought to have healing powers. The city is full of old Victorian mansions built into the sides of the hills/mountains and the entire city is on the National Historic Register. In the Early Days there were lots of houses of ill repute, many of which are now bed and breakfast facilities.

One of the most elaborate that we saw was the Queen Anne Mansion, owned by some guy from New York who has completely restored the entire mansion to the tune of several million dollars. The mansion was originally built in Carthage, MO, dismantled and moved to Eureka Springs. Can you just imagine???

I had read on the Internet that Eureka Springs celebrated the month of May with something called the Grand Illumination. When Ole and I had been touring downtown we noticed all the paper lanterns that were hanging all over throughout the downtown section and in the residential sections. Everything was supposed to light up at dusk, and the way things were decorated we thought it would be beautiful. Well, being it was actually MAY and we were actually THERE, we thought we would take it all in. So that evening I bundled up, hopped on the back of the bike preparing to freeze and rode the 3 miles back into the downtown area to see this beautiful spectacle. All the paper lanterns were hanging where they had been for the previous three days and only about 50 per cent of them were giving off a very faint glow.

Not only that, but I think they roll up the sidewalks at 5 o'clock in Eureka Springs. This was about 7 o'clock and I think we actually saw two whole people strolling down the street in the downtown area. Talk about a disappointment. So we hightailed it back to the motor home where we turned on the heat and a good movie.

Being totally bored in Eureka Springs as all it seems to do there is either rain or be cold, we decided to strike out the next day for Branson. After a stop at Walmart where we put in a few supplies we ended up in Branson about 3:30. I was going to be so smart and direct Ole to go on some of the back roads in order to avoid taking the RV/trailer through all the downtown Branson traffic to get to our campground. Yeah, well, did I screw up. Ole is guiding "the bus" down this narrow back road with no shoulders (165) up and down the hills and around the curves where we were eventually supposed to go across and bridge and come into our campground through the "back" way. Around a curve and down a hill and what do we come across but a great big sign that says, "ROAD CLOSED AHEAD." So how do you turn around a 40' foot motor home with a trailer behind? Not very easily. We managed to find a spot where he could at least get the rig somewhat off the road when a county truck hauling a load of logs pulled up behind/beside us on the off-road side. I got out and asked him what the situation was - if there was a place to turn around up ahead or not. He said he didn't know but would go ahead and take a look. He came back shortly and said we wouldn't have a problem as there was a visitor's center up ahead and we could turn around there. Apparently all the rain that has fallen over this part of Missouri caused the road that goes across the dam that was ahead to wash out in places to close the road.

So we got turned around - went all the way back on the twisty, windy, narrow road, back to Hwy 65 where we ended up going right into downtown Branson, through all the traffic, wending our way back to the campground. I initially tried to make reservations at the campground that was close to The Landing in downtown Branson, but when I called they said they were closed due to the flooding of the previous week. Must have been a mess.

So last night was spent "unwinding" a bit and making plans for today. This morning (Thursday) dawned with bright sunshine and a temperature that was actually climbing. When we left the rig about noon it was in the mid 70s (nice). How long were we going to luck out this time?

Our first stop was at the Veterans Memorial Museum which covered all the wars from WWI to present day. It was amazing. Even I enjoyed it - Ole was enthralled. In one of the central rooms was this bronze statue depicting a company from WWII. There are 50 bronze figures that are casts of actual soldiers that died in WWII, one from each state with a brass plaque beneath each figure stating his name and where he's from. There were so many things exhibited in this museum that just gave a person chills - especially the exhibits from the prison camps like Dachau and Auschwitz. Being a former sailor, Ole particularly enjoyed the Navy exhibits.

By this time it was 2:30 in the afternoon and we decided it was maybe time for lunch. So we drove down to The Landing and found a saloon called Rocky's where Ole could get a burger and a beer. Of course at that time of day things weren't very busy so the bartender, named Layne, entertained us with lots of stories. She was a very interesting person who was born in South Africa, and lived portions of her life in England, Scotland and Australia before she came to America.

THEN, it was time for the best part of the day - Quilts & Quilts - a quilt shop to end all quilt shops that a couple of my quilting friends had recommended. I'd been salivating over this stop for days on end - anticipating how much fun this was going to be and how much "stuff" I was going to acquire.

Ole waited patiently out on his Harley while I went in and came out a half hour later empty-handed. Ole had this look of panic on his face, thinking I had gotten sick or something and couldn't imagine why I wasn't carrying any packages. This store encompasses over 7000 square feet of "stuff" - anything and everything that you can imagine that's related to quilting in any way, shape or form. I was so overwhelmed all I could do was walk around and look and get confused. I came out of there with my brain spinning and thinking I'd probably dream about this place tonight. (I'll let you know tomorrow, 'kay?)

Big sign in the front of the store as you enter "NO CAMERAS" - yeah, well, - - -

So we're back at the ranch - er - campground. Ole's had his afternoon nap and walked Daisy in the rain - I'm playing catch up on my blog - but I do think it's time for a 5 o'clock toddy being it's already 7:00.

Love, Lena

Wet Monday

2011-05-02T20:02:00.002-05:00

It rained all day today. It rained all day yesterday and part of the day before. So guess what we've been doing. No don't . . . . . . . . I don't like where your mind goes . . . . .

We've watched a lot of movies, we've read a lot of books and magazines, taken a lot of naps and I've crocheted a lot. Today was a blessing as our friends Don and Bernie came to visit IN A CAR and took us for a tour of the countryside.

This is a big motorhome but it can get quite small after a couple of days of rain . . . .

Anyway, Don and Bernie retired to northwest Arkansas about a year and a half ago and love it. I can certainly see why. They ride their Harleys 12 months a year and after much questioning Don stated that the summers here aren't any hotter or more humid than the summers in Minnesota. Hmmmm . . . . Brings to mind a lot of questions about relocating.

Anyway, they picked us up IN A CAR and took us through some very beautiful parts of northwest Arkansas where we landed at a place called the Cliff Side Inn for lunch. It overlooked a huge valley that was gorgeous. Unfortunately the rain caused a fog that wouldn't allow us to get a good view of the valley so we just enjoyed the lunch and the company and all the humming birds that were buzzing around the flowers planted in pots on the porch.

So we really haven't gotten to do anything that we've wanted here in Eureka Springs. There's a couple of quilt shops downtown that I want to visit along with just poking around in the unique downtown area. They also have something called a lighting ceremony where the victorian are of the old downtown is lit up completely by paper lanterns. It's supposed to be quite a sight and was supposed to begin last night, May 1st. But with the rain we question the fact that it happened. Hopefully the weather will cooperate on Tuesday night so that we can take it all in.

Also want to do some touring on the bike around the lake area. The countryside is beautiful with all the rolling hills, etc., but with the rain we haven't been able to take it all in.

So - - - more movies on the TV tonight as it's raining and we can't get the satellite TV due to all the trees. This is really ROUGHING IT. So we missed out on the earth quake in Alexandria, MN that happened several days ago, and also the capture/killing of Osama Bin Laden. HURRAY!!

Ole's got some WKRP videos playing so it's time to go watch them.

Love, Lena

PS: Special message to all you North Dakotans and Minnesotans - ENJOY YOUR SNOW - at least all we've got is RAIN!!

OWWW!

2011-04-28T21:28:00.004-05:00

What a horrible way to start the day. I think I broke my toe! OwWwW! And for those of you who are thinking anything else, it was all in pure innocence. I was walking back to the bedroom to make the bed. Ole was in Walmart shopping for that new tire we had to buy and I wanted to have everything ready to take off when he got back. That's what I get for hurrying I guess. Hope I can get my boot on tomorrow to go riding.

Anyway, it was a rather eventful afternoon getting here. Not because we had any problems, but I think I had several heart attacks along the way. About 5 o'clock we turned off Highway 71 at Bentonville, AR and headed east toward Eureka Springs. If I had known that road was so full of hairpin turns I would have figured out some other way to get here. For those of you who have ridden the Needles Highway on a motorcycle down in the Blackhills, this is quite comparable. Only it's about 35 miles long instead of just a few miles. And doing it in a 40' motorhome is definitely NOT fun. It's very narrow and there is NO shoulder or guard rails. If you move 6 inches too far to the right you're done. They'll never find you down in the bottom of the deep ravine. The vultures and the wild critters will dine on your bones. Now on a motorcycle, I'm looking forward to it - but we're definitely finding some other way out of here when we leave in the motorhome!

So we made it to the campground, got parked, set up and started to relax. Daisy was definitely tired of being cooped up in the RV and was ready for some outside time. After a good long walk with Ole around the park and through the ravines she was ready for some downtime. I think she felt my stress level and reacted to it as she seemed very nervous on the last leg of this journey. After her walk she managed to find a soft spot in all the oak leaves that had fallen and took a nice nap.

Ole walks her on a leash as those are the rules, but I know he wouldn't have to as she's so well behaved. Everybody that sees her goes gaga over her and she always allows them to get acquainted and pet her. There are several other dogs in the campground but they're all little "yappers." She just turns her nose up at them as though they aren't worth her time. Good Girl, Daisy. Keep up the good work.

So Ole cooked tonight - burgers on the grille. They were SO good. It's been too darn cold to do any grilling at home so these were especially good.

So tomorrow the Harley comes out of the trailer and we'll put some miles on. Really looking forward to it.

Even though we're in a campground with electricity, water and sewer, we're really having to rough it for the week. There are so many trees here - huge oaks and very tall pines - we can't get a satellite signal nor do they have cable. So that means no TV for a week. Do you think we'll survive? As of tonight it's wonderful. I'll let you know in a week if I still feel the same.

Love, Lena

We Had Renters!

2011-04-28T08:44:00.002-05:00

See that picture up there on top of the page? That's about what happened to Ole when he tried to get the RV off of our property before the flood came. It wasn't quite that bad but almost. I posted pictures on a previous blog showing Farmer Neighbor Dave and his Big John Deere rescuing Ole and the motorhome. Once we got the rig going out of the muck we brought it up to the church parking lot (hard surface) where we thought it would be safe and sound. You know - with the Lord looking after it and all?? Only thing is, the Lord forgot to talk to one of his church members about being kind and considerate to those in need of assistance. But that's another story for another day.

First of all, I'm coming to you from a different blog this time and will be while we're traveling. I'm not comfortable posting the fact that we're not at home to a blog that I don't have control over - anybody/everybody in the whole world can read the one that's posted to the Areavoices site - I have control over who reads this one - so if you've received this notice, consider yourself quite special!! okay? But anyway, on with the story.

So - Ole and I decided we needed to "get out of Dodge" for a bit following the long bitter winter that we had and all the water stress that followed. Even though we suffered no damage this spring I think it was still one of the more stressful floods we've been through. All the hype for such an extended period of time really got to both of us. Being the RV was located (at that time) in the church parking lot I decided to load up a bunch of clothes baskets and haul everything up to the RV that way. At this point we still couldn't get the RV back in our yard because our driveway was mush. Getting stuck once was enough - Ole didn't want to do that again so this was the only alternative. Inconvenient? yes, but doable.

So in the process of checking things over and doing some cleaning in the RV, I opened up the drawer that held my kitchen towels and dish clothes. There in the very front was the biggest mouse nest I've ever seen. It consisted of a half a roll of paper towels that had been hauled all the way from a cabinet in the bathroom AND pieces of all my kitchen towels. I tell you, these little critters had made a haul and constructed it into one of the coziest nests that could be. In checking all the other drawers and cabinets in my kitchen I was presented with mouse turds and lots of them in every opening available. I tell you, these mice had a hay day all winter long.

So I loaded up everything from the kitchen and hauled it home to run through the dishwasher, bleached all the drawers and cabinets. Extra work I didn't count on.

This is about the time that the RV was relocated - and parked at Farmer Neighbor Dave's house. It looked a little out of place parked among all those big John Deere tractors, but at least THEY were welcoming. So that explains why one evening Farmer Neighbor Dave and his wife were visiting with us in the RV when Cindy saw a mouse run across the floor, under the davenport and up to the front of the rig where it climbed in an opening and went under the dash. Dave went to get a live trap that he had, set it in front of where we saw the mouse go in and then we proceeded to visit some more. Within 20 minutes the mouse's curiosity got the best of it and he climbed in the trap where it immediately went CLICK and the mouse was caught.

Well, you know you can't have just ONE mouse. So the next day when I opened up the drawer where I keep my "undies" they were covered with mouse turds and another huge mouse nest. I gingerly picked them up, one by one, and put them into a clothes basket to bring home and run through a very hot washing machine. As I was getting to the bottom of the drawer Ole, who was in the front of the rig, heard this very loud GASP. It came from me! As I picked through my undies up popped the head of a little gray creature with beady eyes and pointy ears giving me this look saying, "And just what do you think YOU'RE doing here in MY mouse domain?" Then he quickly scampered through the back of the drawer and down between the floor and the bottom of the drawer.

Okay. Now we've declared mouse war. We went home, gathered up our arsenal of traps and a jar of peanut butter. Ole went back to the rig and set his trap line. Three more mice bit the dust. The next afternoon we brought the last load over to the RV Daisy was the first one in. She went charging over to a corner, caught another mouse and crunch. That mouse was a goner too.

We've continued to run the trap line until this morning and have had no more takers. So I HOPE our renters have decided to move out. I can't imagine that we've had multiple mice in here throughout the winter that didn't have babies. Maybe they decided that abstinence was the best option?

Now we do travel with two cats - Lucy and Simon. Simon is 20 years old so he's pretty much in retirement mode and doesn't hunt anymore. He spends his days eating, sleeping and pooping. Lucy on the other hand is only three. But she's turned into such a "pork chop" since she came to live the easy life that she doesn't hunt anymore either. What a worthless bunch, huh?

I'm writing this from St. Joseph, MO. As we left Farmer Neighbor Dave's yard yesterday at 8:45 a.m., we of course honked the air horn just to make sure he was awake. We ran into a bit of rain in South Dakota, otherwise we had sunshine all the way. Unfortunately we had some strong cross winds, which didn't make Ole's job very easy. He has 40' of broadside plus a motorcycle trailer going down the road with the wind trying to blow him off. Normally Ole drives until dark, but agreed to quit at 6 o'clock last night because he was tired. I really didn't want to drive through Kansas City after dark either - so St. Joseph was a good place to stop.

This morning we're having a new tire put on the motorcycle trailer. That is if Ole ever quits visiting with the neighbors who are from Bemidji, and gets over to the tire store to make the arrangements. You know Ole - he's got his coffee cup in his hand, Daisy on her leash and his gift of gab.

More later -

Love, Lena

Note Quite the Nitty Gritty

2011-04-22T07:57:00.001-05:00

Get your "jollies" right here!

Love, Lena

Chocolate Easter Eggs

2011-04-19T12:59:00.000-05:00

Find out where Chocolate Easter Eggs come from!

Love, Lena

What Happens when Hens eat Fruit Loops?

2011-04-12T11:57:00.001-05:00

I bet you didn't know this, did you? Love, Lena

Dumb Sh*t Insurance

2011-04-11T12:35:00.001-05:00

Ole discovers that we have GREAT insurance Love, Lena

I Have Water in my Basement

2011-04-07T12:29:00.002-05:00

But it's not from the river! Love Lena

The Non-Event

2011-04-05T13:19:00.000-05:00

It just didn't happen! Love, Lena

How High's the Water, Lena?

2011-04-03T11:56:00.001-05:00

It's MORE than 6 feet high and risin'! Love, Lena

The Atrocities of being ScandiHOOvian

2011-04-01T10:09:00.000-05:00

I'm a Half-Breed!! Love, Lena

The Hornet's Nest

2011-03-31T12:49:00.000-05:00

BUZZZ - BUZZZ - STING!! Love, Lena

Gypsies & the Bum's Jungle

2011-03-30T11:57:00.002-05:00

More about Gypsies and the Dreaded Bum's Jungle!! Love, Lena

Life as a Gypsy - Part 2

2011-03-29T13:56:00.000-05:00

Life as a Gypsy - Part 2 Love, Lena

We're In For It Now!!

2011-03-26T14:35:00.001-05:00

Things don't look good from here!

From Cranky Lena

The Tale of the Poop Truck

2011-03-24T13:17:00.001-05:00

The Tale of the Poop Truck

Just click on the link.

Love, Lena

The True Story of Lena

2011-03-23T10:55:00.000-05:00

The True Story of Lena

The Winter that Just Won't End

2011-03-22T21:35:00.002-05:00

Read On about our trials and tribulations of today.

Love Lena

Get Your Surf Boards Out

2011-03-17T19:54:00.000-05:00

Learn How to Surf

Love Lena

The True Story of Lutefisk

2011-03-16T09:19:00.001-05:00

Yes, Lutefisk was involved in St. Patrick's Day.

Love, Lena

Chicken Eggs & Cow Pies

2011-03-12T10:53:00.001-06:00

The tale is told over at Area Voices.

Love, Lena

Can you Flush the Toilet any Faster?

2011-03-11T12:38:00.002-06:00

Flip that handle and listen for the WHOOSH!

Love, Lena

Outhouses & 'Spenders

2011-03-07T14:59:00.000-06:00

Just click HERE to read the latest.

Love, Lena

CPR on a Gold Fish?

2011-03-04T21:40:00.001-06:00

Don't miss this one - Ole performs CPR on a Gold Fish!

Love, Lena

Do you think Noah Bought Flood Insurance?

2011-02-27T20:30:00.000-06:00

http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/02/27/so-do-you-think-noah-bought-flood-insurance/

Love, Lena

The Day the River Flowed Backwards

2011-02-23T12:50:00.000-06:00

http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/02/23/the-day-the-river-flowed-backwards/

Love, Lena

Water Wings and other Life Savings Devices

2011-02-21T13:57:00.001-06:00

http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/02/21/water-wings-and-other-life-savings-devices/

Love Lena

Life on an Island - but not a tropical one either

2011-02-17T20:48:00.001-06:00

Life on an Island - but not a tropical one either!!

Love Lena

2001 - We're making Progress

2011-02-15T20:48:00.002-06:00

http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/

Check this link for the latest update.

Love Lena

News Media is all Gloom and Doom

2011-02-15T08:11:00.001-06:00

Don't forget I'm writing on the flood blog now over at Area Voices.

Love Lena

Ole and Lena and their Water Wars

2011-02-12T09:41:00.004-06:00

You're probably familiar with the movie Water World starring Kevin Costner? Well, over the months that you've been reading me I'm sure you've noticed that I refer to the Water Wars that Ole and I have fought in the past and will be fighting again in four to six weeks.

A week or so ago a reporter from one of the local television stations knocked on our door and wanted to interview us regarding the upcoming flood situation. He's been a reporter in our area for many years and has done stories on the Buffalo River previously. He's watched our property over the years and knew we would be having issues this spring.

Here's the link to that interview.

Following that interview being broadcast a reporter from our local newspaper called and asked me to start writing a blog regarding our situation that would be linked to the cyberspace edition of the paper. After a bit of coercion I finally agreed. I just wasn't sure I wanted to "put all that out there" if you know what I mean. But I finally agreed and made my first entry a day or two ago.

Now the whole thing is I don't think - no - I know I won't have time to keep up two blogs so I've opted to put Tales from Frostbite Falls on hold during the interim and just write for the newspaper.

If you're interested in the story about how Ole and I have developed webbed feet and how we have survived in our own Water World over the last 35 years, you're welcome to come and read and comment here:

http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/

Well, I'm off to make another entry - hope to see you all over in Water World!!

Love Lena

The Night the Music Died

2011-02-05T08:16:00.004-06:00

Ole and I, along with six other friends, went to the best concert last Thursday night. I'm sure you all remember Buddy Holly, Richie Valans, the Big Bopper and Roy Orbison? How about Bobby Vee and the Shadows? Well, maybe not ALL of you but those of you who are a product of the 50s and 60s music know those names well.

You would also be acquainted with the Night the Music Died - February 3, 1959. That's the night that Buddy Holly's plane crashed on it's way to Moorhead, Minnesota to put on a concert in the armory for all the teeny-boppers. That's the night that Bobby Vee got his start because he and his band had to fill in the space that was left by the deaths of Buddy, Richie and the Big Bopper.

Left to right are Dick Dunkirk, Bobby Vee, Ward Dunkirk and Bob Korum

Bobby Vee was only 15 years old at the time, and was a neighbor of Ole's. They grew up just a few houses apart in north Moorhead. Ole says he remembers him as being rather "nerdy" because he drove around in a station wagon all the time. But I guess that was a good vehicle to be hauling all your instruments around in.

Anyway, back to the concert on Thursday night. Two of the original members of Bobby Vee's band were on stage - the bass guitarist and the drummer. There were impersonators for Richie Valans, Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison. Buddy Holly was excellent but the one that really stole the show was the guy who did Roy Orbison. His voice was astounding - it was powerful and he could hit all those high notes that Roy did. It just made the hair stand up on your arms, if you know what I mean. The music brought back so many memories for all of us as all four of us couples were dating back during the time all those songs were popular.

The concert lasted two hours and wasn't nearly long enough. You can imagine all those gray-haired attendees dancing in the aisles, clapping to the music and standing in their seats singing along. I didn't know "we" had it in us anymore!!

Dreaming of days gone by, Love Lena

Ole Becomes a Movie Star

2011-02-02T11:54:00.003-06:00

Well, Folks, it has begun. The all-day-long-everyday having the coming flood thrown in your face. You can't get away from it. The local news is full of all the gloom and doom predictions of how bad everything is going to get and what the two cities of Fargo and Moorhead are doing to prepare. This is all good and well, but when it's constantly in front of your face and accosting your hearing your internal systems become overloaded and it becomes all you can think about - especially out here in the rural areas where you have no city that is going to come to your defense and help you fight the water. Believe me - when you live in the country you're on your own. That being said, it doesn't help when you have a local watershed board that does everything they can to make the situation worse by allowing all the local farmers to ditch and drain all the areas that would normally hold water and prevent the spring run off from flushing into the river like someone flushing a toilet instead of just percolating through like it used to years ago. (Whew - that was a long sentence, wasn't it.)

Yesterday I was down on my hands and knees with my head in the scrub bucket cleaning up all the dust bunnies that seem to accumulate on our steps going to the basement when the phone rang. Daisy and Ole were down in his basement shop so they couldn't hear the phone which meant that I had to disturb my work and race for the telephone.

Me: Hello?
Caller: Good afternoon - this is Rob Kupec, a reporter from WDAY Television. My cameraman and I were out filming along the Buffalo River and have filmed stories about this river in past years. We know you've lived here a long time and we were wondering if we could interview you about what you're doing to prepare for the coming flood?
Me: That would be fine - when would you like to come out?
Caller: We're sitting in our car in your driveway in front of your garage right now! Could we come in now?
Me: (as I run my fingers through my unkempt hair, think about the fact that I have NO makeup on along with my scrub jeans and t-shirt) Well, I guess so - as long as you're here.

I answer the door and wonder why Daisy, the Barking Doorbell didn't respond to the fact that there was a car in the driveway. She normally is capable of hearing the mailman put the mail in the mailbox 500 feet out at the end of the driveway. We just call her Radar Ears!!

I invited them in and ran down the basement to get Ole as there was NO WAY they were going to interview me and put me on camera in my scrub clothes, unmakeupped face and hair that was enough to scare anyone.

Rob and his cameraman were here about a half hour - and here's the result of that interview.

http://www.wday.com/event/article/id/43390/

This was aired on the six and ten local news last night and again this morning. I've gotten tons of emails regarding this interview along with one from another reporter for our local newspaper that has asked me to write a blog about the flood to be published in the newspaper and linked to in the online version.

I'm a bit hesitant about some of this because we are in the beginning stages of getting a lawyer involved regarding the uncooperative attitude we've had from the State of Minnesota and the Watershed Board - those who determine whether or not we will be allowed a dike. At one point we would have been happy with a dike - now we're going to push for a complete buyout.

It's going to be a long remainder of winter - as I'm already losing sleep over this whole issue. We've managed to keep our house dry all these years, but this is the year we may not be able to do so.

Love Lena

I said, "Don't Play in the Garbage Pit!!"

2011-01-25T10:58:00.002-06:00

Minnesota is known as the Land of 10,000 Lakes. It actually contains more than 15,000 bodies of water whose total shoreline exceeds 90,000 miles - more than California, Hawaii and Florida combined. In order to be classified as a lake, the water surface must be equal to or exceed 10 acres. Now I didn't just pull those numbers out of my head - I'm not THAT smart. You know you can find anything on the internet.

Western North Dakota is not blessed with that much water. In fact, most of western North Dakota doesnt' have "lakes," it has sloughs (sounds like slew). A slough (at least in our part of the world) is defined as a pond or stagnant body of water. Most of them have lots of cat tails or rushes growing in them or around the edges. And in the summertime they usually smell due to the fact that they have no flowing water - no inlet or outlet.

Somewhere in the southwestern corner of the state, my Dad's construction company spent an entire summer trying to build a road through one of these sloughs. The State dictated that the road had to go THROUGH the slough, not around it for some reason. You know how the government is, they don't HAVE to have a logical reason to do anything! Anyway, the road crew would dump truckload after truckload of dirt into this slough trying to build a base for the gravel and it would just disappear. They calculated that they hauled enough dirt to have filled the slough, but it all kept disappearing. I remember a number of times watching heavy equipment get stuck in this slough and having bigger, heavier equipment come in to pull it out. At one point they even lost a gravel truck to the slough - it just sank out of sight, never to be recovered. It probably showed up in China somewhere a month or two later. That's probably where all that gravel is too. At this point I don't remember what the outcome of that road was, whether it was ever finished or rerouted, but I vividly remember watching that gravel truck going down never to be seen again.

As I said in a previous entry, getting groceries was quite an outting on Saturday afternoon. Thirty miles of gravel roads doesn't make this an easy job. You can't exactly "run to the store" whenever you run out of something, and that distance made it difficult to keep things like milk, meat and fresh produce in enough quantity to get you through till the next time you went to the store. Remember we were lucky to have a refrigerator, and the freezer was only big enough to hold a couple of trays of ice cubes. So many of the "road people" got acquainted with the local ranchers and farmers for their supplies. This way we could always buy fresh garden vegetables, eggs, milk, and on occasion if a rancher was butchering, fresh beef or pork. I remember we ate a lot of chicken because that was easy to get.

Extremely vivid in my memory is the time I went with my mother to a close rancher to buy fresh chicken. This was so fresh it was still running around in the chicken yard! Mrs. Rancher caught three chickens and put their necks on the chopping block. Down came the axe and she quickly tossed them in the air. What followed has stayed in my mind for a lifetime. Those bodies flew what seemed to be ten feet in the air, wings flapping, bounced on the ground and then back up in the air again, several times before they finally settled on the ground, blood spurting all over. It took years before I would eat chicken again. Every time my mother would put it on the table I would start to cry.

I also remember when I discovered where eggs came from. I had made friends with one of the little Rancher Girls, and would be invited over to play for the afternoon. One of her jobs was to pick eggs twice a day. One afternoon we were in the chicken coop trying to get the eggs from under the hens and prevent those old hens from pecking our hands as we reached in, when one of the old hens started to cackle up a storm. She lifted her heavy body up on the nest for a bit and pooped out an egg!! That was all she wrote, folks - to this day I really don't like eggs!!

The picture below is of some of the "camp kids" playing "road building" in the dirt. I don't remember who the two kids are on the left, but that's Big Brother on the far right, me in the center, and one of "those Thuringer kids" between me and Big Brother. The building on wheels in back of us is the "cook car" I spoke of previously.

"Those Thuringer kids" were awful. There were five of them, all boys, and they were mean, evil, bad, nasty and rotten. They were constantly beating each other up, and if they couldn't pick a fight with one of their brothers they'd go find one of the other "camp kids" to beat up. They didn't have to have a reason, they just liked to fight. They were always causing trouble around camp, and getting the other kids in trouble along with them.

I remember one day when they caused me to get the spanking of my life, a hairbrush on my bare bottom. They talked me into going with them to play in the garbage pit. This was a very deep hole that was dug at each campsite for people to throw their trash in and then it would be buried when we moved on. The sides of the hole were steep and you can imagine how awful and full of flies this pit was in the hot weather with people's food scraps and who knows what else rotting in the sun. Now every morning when Big Brother and I would go outside my mother would shake her finger at us and say, "Stay away from the garbage pit, or else." One day one of the Thuringer boys convinced me that I could find lots of treasures down in the garbage pit, so down we went, slid down the side and into the garbage. Apparently it didn't smell bad that day because I don't remember having the urge to get out. But we spent some time digging around down there when who should appear at the top edge of the pit but my Mother. I knew then that I better scramble back up to the top, where she grabbed me by the arm and home we went. I just remember that hairbrush hurting a lot and then having to take a bath in that big galvanized tub and it wasn't even Saturday!! YECH!!! - for the garbage pit, not the tub.

Uffda - my backside STILL stings!

Love, Lena

More on Road Camp

2011-01-24T11:42:00.002-06:00

Oh, the conveniences that we take for granted in our lifetime. Electricity for instance. A number of years ago our area had a very severe ice storm which knocked power lines down for many miles around. We were without electricity for six days. Fortunately, Ole has the foresight to be well prepared for living in a rural area in this part of the Upper Midwest. It can get mighty cold here, and without electricity in your house, it gets pretty miserable. The first thing you think of is, of course, no lights. But don’t forget – without electricity to run the pump in your well you have no water let alone HOT water, no heat, no TV or even radio unless you have a battery operated one. We happen to have an electric kitchen stove so I couldn’t even cook let alone run the microwave. But good old Ole was prepared with two big generators that he hooked up – big enough to run EVERYTHING!!

Now when I was a kid and we were living the life of the gypsies and moving from camp to camp, there was no electricity in these pastures that we camped in. The construction company did furnish a large generator that ran throughout the evening hours so you could have lights in your house after dark. But you better be in bed by midnight unless you wanted to sit in the dark. We had long, long extension cords that would run from our trailers to this big generator. If someone wanted to play a mean trick on you, they’d go unplug your cord from the generator and then you’d have to stumble around in the dark and try to plug it back in as there were no yard lights outside so you could see where you were going.

Big Brother had a pet crow one summer when we were “camping out.” We had been in one location where there were some large trees, one of which had a crow’s nest in it. For some reason, I don’t remember what it was, the mother crow had died and fallen out of the nest, leaving four baby crows hanging over the edges with their mouths gaping, crying for food. My brother and some of his buddies shinnied up the tree, took the crows out of the nest and each took one home. These crows were so small they didn’t even have feathers on yet – just bare skin. I remember them being extremely ugly. Well, Big Brother is a very determined person and was going to do everything possible to keep this baby crow alive. We had a dog at that time who ate canned dog food, so some of his dog food was confiscated to feed the baby crow, along with a variety of bugs, beetles and worms that Big Brother would go scrounging for during the day. And of course the crow, being so small, was hungry ALL the time, so Big Brother would be up several times during the night to feed this poor, squawking thing. Of the four crows that were taken from the nest, Big Brother’s was the only one that lived, and grew into a fine, feathered friend for quite a number of years.

Big Brother named him Smokey – and what a pest he was. My Mother would drape an old towel across the back of a chair and would allow the bird to come in the house for short periods of time if he would sit on the back of the chair. He would fly to the door and squawk when he wanted to go back out, so I don’t remember many “accidents” happening. But then I wasn’t the one that cleaned them up either. If he were left alone for any period of time things would disappear. Things like car keys, buttons, pens, coins, anything shiny that was left laying around would disappear instantly. Once a week my Mother would clean behind the davenport and there – lo and behold – would be all of Smokey’s treasures. He became a very “cocky” bird, which led to his comeuppance. One day he was dive-bombing one of the local dogs and the dog snapped at him as he flew overhead – and that was the end of Smokey.

Here’s a shot of what “road camp” looked like – that’s our trailer second from the right. And it must have been a Saturday afternoon when we were headed for town to buy groceries. That’s me running toward the car with my Dad getting in on the other side. Note the long blonde Shirley Temple curls? Oh, how I hated those things. My mother would make these ringlets every morning, and when I was old enough to go to school I would go immediately to the bathroom and brush them all out. I wanted straight hair like the other girls.

That's it for today, Bloggers. I'll see what I can dream up for tomorrow. Right now I have to get after all those dust bunnies that are hiding in the corners.

Love Lena

The Edge of the World

2011-01-23T15:22:00.002-06:00

It's below zero and the snow is blowing as usual. I'm shut up in the house on a Sunday afternoon. That always seems to put me in a reflective mood. Thinking about times past, where I've been and where I'm at now. What is it that made my life turn out the way it did.

When I was a little girl my father was a farmer in north central North Dakota, where the farms are small compared to what they are here in the Red River Valley. My father farmed 400 acres of soil that wasn't very productive, especially during the dry years of the early 50s. In order to hang onto the farm he had to take another job, which ended up being something called a "grease monkey" for a road construction crew. Not exactly a politically correct job title in today's society, but back then that's what it was. Today he would have been called a mechanic for heavy equipment.

So my Mother was forced to move from an eleven room farm house into a 25 foot trailer house with three kids, and no indoor plumbing. We lived like gypsies. I won't say we even became "trailer trash" because that indicates you embed yourself in one place. We didn't. We moved from one location to another, following the progress of the road that the construction crew was working on. Many times I remember my Father coming to the trailer and telling my Mother, "We've got to be moved down the road to the next location within one hour." And we would.

Now mind you, there were 20 to 30 families living like this - vagabonds. And a big "cook car" - which was a mobile kitchen, run by several ladies who would do all the meal preparation for the single guys who worked on the crew. Inside on one end was a kitchen, and the remainder was one long table going through the center of the car with benches on each side for the guys to sit and eat.

So this whole procession of trailers and the cook car would go down the road several miles to another location, which was usually some rancher's pasture, pull in and set up camp. Now think about this - this was a pasture - no well for running water, or sanitation faciliites. First things first - several holes would be dug for the outdoor biffies, then one very large hole to bury garbage. Then a truck with a huge water tank on the back would arrive and park itself somewhat centrally located. One of my brother's regular jobs was to fill water into buckets and haul it to our trailer whenever needed so we had water to drink, cook and wash dishes with. Baths were taken once a week in a large round galvanized tub that my mother used to wash clothes in every Monday. Otherwise you did a "spit and polish" between the times when you would sit in the galvanized tub. And all HOT water was made hot by heating it in a large pot on a gas kitchen stove.

I often think when we're out traveling in our motorhome, my Mother would have thought she'd died and gone to heaven with all the conveniences I have. Completely self-contained - solar powered, gas/electric hot water heater, same for the frig, TV, air conditioning - We often park in the middle of the desert for weeks at a time when we travel in the winter, and have all those conveniences. She had NONE of that. But then neither did anyone else in the "camp."

Going to town for groceries on Saturday afternoon was always a big event. We got to go to TOWN!! They were mere wide spots in the road, and sometimes up to 30 miles away on gravel roads, but it was still a big event. Places like Elgin, Carson, Cannon Ball, Amidon, Black Butte, Flasher - some of which no longer even exist other than a few fallen in buildings. But at that time most every little town had some kind of a grocery store where a big treat would be a bottle of pop (soda to you NON-upper-midwesterners). Nesbitts orange and grape nehi were my favorites.

I have very fond memories of those days as a kid - playing with all the other "camp kids" out in the pasture not knowing what you were going to "step" in or find - and that included rattle snakes!! Most generally the rattle snakes were hunted out of the area we were going to be camping in. The construction company would send their snake crew in ahead of time and they would locate the snake dens and clean them out. An ugly, dangerous job, but it had to be done.

I remember very vividly a time when a large bull snake decided he was going to move in under our trailer. He was only about six feet long and possibly six inches in circumference. The scariest part was that these snakes would crawl up into the underside of the trailers looking for warmth on chilly nights, and could possibly get into your house. Wouldn't that be cute - wake up during the night and have a snake that size trying to crawl under your covers to warm up!! That's just slightly intimidating. We didn't know it at the time but bull snakes weren't poisonous - but beneficial. They caught lots of mice. I don't care - I still wouldn't want him for a bed partner - AAAACCCCKKKK!

Most of the roads that my Father worked on were in western North Dakota and all over South Dakota - a very slimly populated area, even back then. It's even more thinly populated now, but still holds a mystique for me when I travel the area. There's something so hauntingly beautiful about it. Take a look.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

More tomorrow,

Love Lena

The Terrible Winter of '10-'11

2011-01-17T14:43:00.004-06:00

I'm afraid the winter of 2010-2011 is becoming a repeat of The Terrible Winter of '96-'97, which was followed by a terrible flood in our neck of the woods. I can't remember the last time we had two days of sunshine in a row - it's just one gray day after another with an inch or two of snow on a daily basis. Ole has burned through many gallons of gas in the big farm tractor moving snow this year and with the price of gas at $3.09 it's becoming a very spendy winter.

And then there's the frustration of breaking parts and things when the snow is so deep and heavy. We had freezing rain just before Christmas so there's a thick layer of ice beneath all the snow, which causes ole' Poppin' John (the tractor) to get stuck easily and slip on the ice. Last time Ole moved snow I had to tug him out twice with the 4-wheel drive truck and the third time I refused because I was afraid something was going to break. I called Farmer Neighbor Dave who came over with an even bigger tractor that had chains on the rear wheels. His tractor hardly grunted and Poppin' John was out of the snowbank.

When you're pulling something as big as Poppin' John out of a snow bank and off the ice with a truck you have to YANK it out - you can't just slowly drive forward. There was a nylon tow rope between the truck and the tractor and I think we broke the tow rope three times. One time it hit the tailgate so hard I was sure there was going to be a big dent in it - but there wasn't. And not only was there blue exhaust smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe of the tractor - you should have seen the "blue smoke" that was coming out of the cab of the tractor!! I'm sure glad there weren't any little ears around to hear that.

This morning managed to dawn with bright sunshine so somehow I'm going to manage to enjoy that part of it. The actual air temperature is 18 degrees below zero with a bit of a breeze that makes the windchill 34 below. That's enough to frostbite the hairs on the inside of your nose, huh?

Love Lena

What Goes Around Comes Around

2011-01-08T19:11:00.004-06:00

I had a very pleasant surprise the other day. I received an email from someone that I used to be blogger friends with several years ago asking to mend fences. For reasons I won't go into a flame war had developed previously and I ended up on the receiving end of a lot of nasty comments and negative statements which caused some very hurt feelings on my end. There was a group of bloggers that I shall refer to as "The Click" from various parts of the United States that had formed a very close-knit group - to the point where they all got together for a few days on an annual basis to chit-chat and get to know each other better.

I had intended to make the trip and had even sent in my registration fee prior to the flame war taking place. I quickly changed my mind, opted out and got my money back when the little "camp fire" developed into the atom bomb. I decided I didn't need those kinds of people in my life as my life was complicated enough at that point. At that time I broke off communication with all the people in The Click and closed my blog.

Needless to say, the members of this group were and are still around, reading many of the blogs that I read on a regular basis and commenting on many. Some of the comments that were made on people's blogs were of the sarcastic and snide variety. It got to the point where when I saw the names of these bloggers under the comments I wouldn't even read them, quit reading that particular blogger and removed them from my Google Reader. I just didn't want to have ANY connection with these people anymore.

As time went on my feelings healed. But these particular commenters seemed to be covering a wider and wider range of bloggers, having their comments show up on more and more blogs. So I decided to "poke" in on them and see what was happening in their lives now. Was there still chaos in their lives; was venom still being spewed? Yup - history seems to have repeated itself and another flame war has developed causing hurt feelings and breakups of friendships. I don't know the details, nor do I care. But it just seems to me that there are some people who can't live without chaos in their lives. If their life is going smoothly they do something to stir things up because that's their comfort zone. The world could certainly do without these kinds of folks.

Unfortunately, the The Click had influenced me so strongly in the negative that if I opened up a new blog and saw their name/names under the comments I wouldn't even attempt to get acquainted with the new blogger. My thought was, "If you're friends with THEM, then I don't want to be friends with you!" It's my loss that I probably didn't get acquainted with a lot of very nice people because I judged them by the commenters on their page. My bad. But - - -

You see, there's this phrase called Minnesota Nice. In case you don't know what Minnesota Nice means, Wikipedia says Minnesota nice is the stereotypical behavior of long-time Minnesota residents, to be courteous, reserved, and mild mannered. According to Annette Atkins,[1] the cultural characteristics of Minnesota nice include a polite friendliness, an aversion to confrontation, a tendency toward understatement, a disinclination to make a fuss or stand out, emotional restraint, and self-deprecation.[2] It can also refer to traffic behavior, such as slowing down to allow another driver to enter a lane in front of the other person.

When this flame war was going on very negative comments were made about my being naive, that I alluded to innocence, that I hadn't a *&@# clue about anything, and that I was dead weight in the blogging world. I often wondered if the bloggers who made those comments would have had the nerve to say them directly to my face. It's so easy to hide behind an email or a blog.

The interesting thing is that many times what goes around comes around. History seems to be repeating itself, and now, apparently, some of the members of The Click seem to be getting some of their own medicine back. When something like this happens they're very fast to lock up their diary so they can make even more negative comments behind their target's back and allow in only those that they choose. Unfortunately they just don't realize that they will all get theirs in the end. As I said previously, what goes around comes around - sometimes you have to wait a long time, but it eventually happens.

Ole and I can bear witness to this - in one instance where we chose to completely separate from a family member due to her negative behavior towards us, it took from 1986 to 2001 - but she got hers - and we had nothing to do with it. She did it to herself. Another instance with a different family member - it took 12 years. Paybacks are a bitch - and she found that out. All of the members of The Click are going to find this out too. I think some already have.

Love Lena

Al Capone & Prostitution

2011-01-04T10:48:00.006-06:00

Hey there, this is Lena coming to you from the Land of Nothingness. I currently have nothing going on in my life other than the Packing Up Christmas stuff and cleaning up the dust bunnies that have accumulated. Nothing went on yesterday or the day before, and I don’t expect anything to happen tomorrow either. So when you have nothing going on in your life you have to look to the past for something to write about. Oh, well ~ ~ ~

So I guess I’ll fess up to the fact that I have a past connected to the FBI and Al Capone. Yup – that’s me – but I wasn’t one of those gun molls or anything quite that interesting.

When Ole was in the Navy and going to school at Great Lakes, Illinois Naval Station, we lived in an apartment about two blocks from the main gate. Now anybody who’s ever spent any time around a large military base knows that the neighborhoods around the gates are not known to be the nicest areas. They can be pretty rough and tumble and scary.

We had quite a “classy” apartment (snicker) – it was an efficiency above an abandoned laundromat. The kitchen was behind a folding door and the bathroom consisted of a stool and sink in our apartment, with the bathtub located “down the hall” and shared by two other apartments. Believe me, I NEVER took a bath unless Ole was home and sitting in our apartment with the door open and watching the tub room door. It was kind of a scary situation. The only thing this apartment DIDN’T have was cockroaches!

Downstairs and next door was a little local tavern owned by a Greek and a Polack. Very nice people who kind of adopted us and watched over me when Ole had duty on base. I had to park across the street and down a hill, so about the time I was due home from work either Gus, the Greek, or Bill, the Polack, would be looking out the window to make sure I made it safely from my car to my apartment door. They also helped me get my car started several mornings when it was bitter cold and Ole had already left for school.

Just to give you an idea of what the neighborhood was like; the first weekend that I arrived in North Chicago and moved into the apartment Ole had duty, which meant he had to stay on base for the entire weekend. There I was in this dirty apartment, didn’t know a soul nor did I know my way around. So I spent the weekend cleaning the place up, scrubbing an inch of grease off the stove, a layer of crud off the sinks, etc. It was Saturday morning and I needed to shake rugs, so I found my way down the long dark hallway to the back of the building where I had to go down a long flight of stairs to get outside to the alley. I shook the rugs but noted that there were a lot of tipped over trash cans and some blood spattered around. I found out later that two sailors had been knifed the previous night after some kind of a barroom brawl – right on my back step. Needless to say I spent the remainder of the weekend in the apartment with the door locked.

Now our apartment rent was $90 a month, my car payment was $70, and Ole’s military pay at that time was $32.64 every two weeks, leaving us with quite a deficit. This meant I had to find a job. I had quite a bit of experience in the hospitality industry, (hotels/motels) so happened to come across an ad for an assistant sales manager (which I had done before) at a place called the Hotel Moraine on the Lake. It was located several miles down the shore of Lake Michigan in a Jewish suburb of Chicago called Highland Park, IL. I applied, was interviewed by the general manager, a Mr. Mueller, and was hired on the spot. I would be working with all the people who were booking events into the hotel, which included a lot of bar mitzvahs and bas mitzvahs, along with making calls on businesses selling the facility for their meetings and conventions. It was a fun job in that respect.

Now this hotel was built in 1892, had numerous huge ballrooms/convention rooms, 200 guest rooms, a pool, tennis courts, and a beautiful stone bridge that crossed a ravine with a path down to the shores of Lake Michigan. It had been quite a resort in its day, and it was rumored that Al Capone had used it as a second headquarters during his heyday. When I began going through the stacks of file cabinets that lined the walls in my office I found several pieces of evidence that this was indeed so. At times he would rent the entire facility for his gang, allowing no one else in during his stay. I found old newspaper clippings referencing gun battles between Capone and other gangs that had taken place on the site, as well as connections with FBI raids during that period of time.

Now being a naïve little girl from Minnesota, I didn’t think twice about the fact that when Mr. Mueller gave me a tour of the facility that there were certain sections that I was told were OFF LIMITS to me. He told me that these areas were never used, were always kept locked and I had no need to be there.

About nine months later on a Sunday morning the headlines of the Chicago Tribune read “Hotel Moraine on the Lake raided by FBI for Interstate Gambling and Prostitution.” Once again, being a naïve young woman, I headed back to the hotel on Monday morning and as I approached the door I was met by two FBI agents informing me that the hotel was closed. I told them who I was and that I had come to collect my pay check. Of course they were very interested in the fact that I was the assistant sales manager and I was taken in immediately for further questioning. I gave them what information I had, which was nothing, and because of my pure, sweet, innocent face, they must have believed me because they let me go.

Apparently Mr. Mueller had a “thing” going on the side that was mob affiliated. The last I heard both he and the bookkeeper were doing hard time in prison. And I honestly knew NOTHING about any of this during the time I worked there. Honest. You DO believe me, don't you?

Love Lena

Happy New Year!!

2011-01-01T21:34:00.004-06:00

Well, The Blizzard is over. Ole spent 5 hours yesterday with our big John Deere tractor and 8 foot wide snowblower blowing snow and another 3 hours today and he's still not done. Out at the end of our driveway we had a drift that was higher than our 4-wheel drive pickup. I certainly hope that this is not an omen of things to come for the remainder of the winter. If it is, we're in deep doo-doo next spring during flood season.

I've been SO lazy since Christmas. I decided that the week between Christmas and New Years I was just going to be lazy and enjoy myself - and I was quite successful at it. I haven't accomplished ANYTHING! Unfortunately - it all waits. So tomorrow I have to dig in - hard. I have dust bunnies in all the corners and they definitely have to go away.

The New Year had to usher itself in at our house last night, and it got along just fine without us. It was blizzarding - again - a nice night to stay snug in the house. I tucked in about 8 o'clock last night and I think Ole snuggled down about 10. I don't think either of us opened our eyes until about 9 o'clock this morning. Opened them to everything encased in a coating of ice and snow. I guess that's what happens when you have a "6" as the beginning digit of your age.

I so remember wondering how my parents could stand going to bed so early on New Year's Eve and not making a big deal of it. I guess at my age I would rather wake up on New Year's Day and start the new year with a clear head - not having to recover from too much alcohol, too much noise and too much second-hand smoke.

Church has already been canceled for tomorrow morning - not because it's storming anymore but because the parking lot is so encased in ice that Pastor is afraid of people falling and breaking something. He said when he went to the church this afternoon he went down once and his secretary went down twice. Not a good situation and not a good way to start the year.

So Ole and I will just continue to stay housebound, as will Daisy. She didn't get her run this afternoon and is missing it - but I'm afraid she wouldn't have been able to stand up anyway and may have slipped and broken a leg. That we don't need either. Forecast is for 23 degrees below zero tonight. I guess it's cold enough to kill all the germs anyway!!

Here's a little ditty that a friend sent me today - written specifically for this last blizzard. Enjoy.

Happy New Year - Love Lena

What a way to usher in the New Year

2010-12-31T10:02:00.002-06:00

We've managed to escape the last several snow storms that have come through the Red River Valley, but we weren't so lucky this time. We suffered it's full force all day yesterday and through the night. We're having a bit of a respite right now, although there's still no travel advised, but things are supposed to wind up again this afternoon worse than ever with stronger winds and more snow. It started in the early morning hours with rain and freezing rain turning to snow. So everything is encrusted in ice. We only got 4 inches of snow last night, but when it's being whipped around by 50 mph winds it makes for zero visibility and snow drifts many feet high that are as hard as concrete. This blizzard has been comparable to those we got during the winter of '96-'97, which has become the benchmark from which to measure our winter weather.

At this point all highways and interstates are closed going all directions from The City. There was a 100-car pileup just west of town on I-94. It started with a jack-knifed semi and went from there. It took over 10 hours to rescue all the people that were stranded in their cars. Fortunately Ole has not been called out on a fire call yet. At this point I don't know how he would get to the fire station let alone get to the fire. His pager went off last night - a young couple who lived north a few miles north of a small town close to here had a 6 month baby who was having difficulty breathing and whose lips were turning blue. They requested the rescue squad and said they were starting out in their 4-wheel drive heading the 4 miles into town trying to at least get that far. They didn't make it and ended up in the ditch. The rescue squad ended up following a payloader to find them, rescued them and got them back into town to the Stop & Go where the ambulance was supposed to meet them. The ambulance got stuck in a snowbank on the off ramp of the interstate and the payloader ended up taking the child into the ER. There was also a rescue squad call here in our village. The squad was able to get to the home, the patient needed to be transported but the ambulance couldn't get here. They requested a deputy for the transport, but he couldn't get here either. I don't know what the outcome of that call was.

Lots of people without power in the area due to the ice-covered lines galloping in the wind. So far we're okay, but that could change with the next round coming. We've got two generators in the garage and 50 gallons of gas in a tank. One generator is big enough to run the entire house. Got to be prepared when you live in this country.

Ole was on a fire call on Wednesday night - the County Highway Department building that houses all the snow removal equipment for the county burned down to the ground. It's located about 15 miles from here, and our town was called for backup. The firemen couldn't get into the building to put the fire out due to all the exploding tires and the fact that a propane tank was located inside the building. There were two road graders and 3 snow plows housed in the building. They were all a complete loss. Just what we needed prior to this blizzard blowing in. So it's hard to tell when our highway will be cleared.

Talked with Bud yesterday - a good friend of ours that is a truck driver, so he's used to driving in just about any kind of weather. He and his wife drove from The City to our village about 3 o'clock yesterday. He said it was some of the worst he had ever driven in. So coming from him - you know it's bad.

So we're just hunkered down for the duration. It will definitely be a quiet New Year's Eve - but then we never do anything anyway!!

Happy New Year to all my Blogger Buddies

Love Lena

High School Romance

2010-12-28T11:32:00.002-06:00

All the hubbub of Christmas is over - it seems it came and went so fast that I hardly had time to enjoy it. Although I had a wonderful holiday I'm kind of glad that it's over and life can get back to normal, if there truly is such a thing. Things are quiet at our house this week and there's really not much to write about - so here goes another history lesson. If you get bored, just click on the little X in the upper right corner of your screen, okay?

I met Ole when I was a senior in high school in our first hour study hall. He sat toward the front and I sat about mid-way back. He was tall and slim with a mass of dark hair that he combed like Fonzie on Happy Days. Every morning during the Pledge of Allegiance he would turn around and give me a big smile. One day before classes started he asked me to go to the library with him, which was one of our options instead of going to study hall.

This time was supposed to be used for studying but of course, THAT didn’t’ happen when we were able to sit next to each other. There was a lot of whispering and note writing and hand holding that went on during that time, but not a lot of studying. Imagine that!! Ole would slide his chair right up next to mine, and periodically, the librarian would come over and slide them back apart. He would never say anything, just move the chairs apart (snicker). Years later we ran into him and the first thing he exclaimed was that he was glad we had gotten married and then chuckled. He was a good egg.

Ole and I always sat on the far end of the room from the flag, so that when everyone stood to say the Pledge of Allegiance they were all facing away from us. Imagine my surprise during this time when he turned and gave me a great big smack on the lips!! Right there in the library – everyone standing with their back to us, hands over their hearts and Ole is kissing me!! That Ole was a conniving young man, all right.

I asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance that fall, and from then on we were an item. He was driving a 1949 Ford at that time, which was his pride and joy. Even way back then he was into cars – building, painting, and being “cool.” It was dark blue and had loud pipes. It was pretty impressive.

January came, and it was time for the Winter Snowball dance at school. All the girls had been shopping for dresses, or making their own. The song “She Wore Blue Velvet” was popular at that time, so I worked for weeks and sewed my own blue velvet gown. The week before the dance somebody ran into Ole’s ’49 Ford – hit and run when it was parked in the street in front of his house – it was no longer drivable. So Ole asked his dad if he could borrow his car for that night – but the answer was no. Ole’s dad was a mean boozer, and did anything/everything he could in his lifetime to alienate his kids. Ole had another car that ran, a 1954 Ford, but it didn’t have a heater – it had been completely removed at some point for parts I suppose. So the night of the dance came, and of course in January it was way below zero. Ole drove the ten miles to my house to pick me up and we started back to town for the dance. It was windy that night with blowing snow and we were getting pretty cold in this car without a heater. All of a sudden the hood flew up – over the windshield putting a crack in it, and landed in the middle of the highway behind us. Unfortunately there was a big truck oncoming in the other lane, and before Ole could get out and get the hood picked off the middle of the highway the truck hit it and it was flat as a pancake.

Well, that took care of what little engine heat had managed to get into the car – and from there on it was Icicle City. I distinctly remember when he brought me home that night it was 35 degrees below zero. My Dad was up waiting for us and was very adamant about Ole spending the night at our house because it was too cold to drive back to town in a car without a heater. But Ole wouldn’t do it and headed for home. Fortunately he made it because temperatures like that are very life threatening.

Then in the spring came the Prom. Back then it was ritual for couples to stay out all night following the Prom. There were no organized functions after the Prom – just house parties. Of course I informed my parents I wouldn’t be home until morning, as I had always had a curfew and abided by it (goody-two-shoes, ya know?) Even though they knew I wouldn’t be home until morning I can still remember how guilty I felt when I walked in the door just as the sun was coming up and my Dad was sitting at the table having coffee. Why did I feel that way? I couldn’t tell you – because I hadn’t done anything wrong. Just my ScandiHOOvian upbringing, I guess.

Then there was the night we double-dated with Vickie and her boyfriend, Roger. Ole had his sources and was able to score on a 12-pack of Buckhorn beer. Buckhorn was $1 a 6-pac back then. And it tasted like it too – but then I’ve never been much of a beer connoisseur so what did I know? But I drank it because it was the cool thing to do. We were parked on a country road one cold winter night, and of course after consuming a couple of Buckhorns, Vickie and I had to go to the bathroom. Well, obviously there’s no facilities on a country gravel road and we couldn’t make it back to town, so we opted to get out and go behind the car. The guys promised they would be good – ya, sure. Now Ole had dual exhausts on his car, and just as Vickie and I got into “position” what should he do but gun the engine!! I had squatted off to one side, but Vickie was right in front of one of the pipes – and after the engine had been idling for a while moisture had collected in the exhaust pipe. So when Ole gunned the engine Vickie got sprayed with cold water right on her bare backside. In her shock she went flying away from the back of the car right in mid-pee!! Ole still roars when he talks about that night.

What a conniver that Ole was.

There’s more – but this is getting long so I’ll save it for another day. And besides, Lovely Daughter reads here so I don’t want to expose TOO MUCH of my past (snicker). Hi, Lovely Daughter!!!

Love Lena

Merry Christmas To My Female Friends

2010-12-23T12:45:00.002-06:00

If I were ol' Santa, you know what I'd do
I'd dump silly gifts that are given to you
And deliver some things just inside your front door
Things you have lost, but treasured before.

I'd give you back all your maidenly vigor,
And to go along with it, a neat tiny figure.
Then restore the old color that once graced your hair
Before rinses and bleaches took residence there.

I'd bring back the shape with which you were gifted
So things now suspended need not be uplifted.
I'd draw in your tummy and smooth down your back
Till you'd be a dream in those tight fitting slacks.

I'd remove all your wrinkles and leave only one chin
So you wouldn't spend hours rubbing grease on your skin.
You'd never have flashes or queer dizzy spells,
And you wouldn't hear noises like ringing of bells.

No sore aching feet and no corns on your toes,
No searching for spectacles when they're right on your nose.
Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny,
From a doctor who thinks you're a nervous old granny.

You'd never have a headache, so no pills would you take.
And no heating pad needed since your muscles won't ache.
Yes, if I were Santa, you'd never look stupid,
You'd be a cute little chick with the romance of a cupid.

I'd give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle,
And the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle.
But alas! I'm not Santa. I'm simply just me,
The matronest of matrons you ever did see.

I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I've got,
But I'm due at my doctor's for an estrogen shot.
Even though we've grown older, this wish is sincere,
Merry Christmas to you and a Happy New Year.

And How Deep is Your Snow?

2010-12-21T10:41:00.004-06:00

We had another 6 inches last night - that makes a total of 30+ inches on the ground and it's only December. January and March are our snowiest months and our average snowfall over a winter is only 36 inches. Back in the winter of '96-'97 we had over 120 inches and Ole ran out of places to put it when he cleared the driveway. But at least we haven't had really cold temperatures - yet - that usually happens in January when we get sometimes two to three weeks of 20-30 degrees below zero. Some days it even warms up to all of 10 below. Oh well, I guess it doesn't do any good to complain.

When we lived in Florida we had two dogs that adopted us. They were strays that military people had left behind when they had to move. So of course we brought them back to Minnesota with us when Ole got out of the Navy. Hairy was a big dog with lots of fur and enjoyed the Minnesota winters. Hot Dog on the other hand wasn’t so crazy about them. He was a standard Daschund weighing in at about 35 pounds, and built low to the ground. The unfortunate thing about these two dogs is that we never had them neutered, so when Mother Nature called they would occasionally take off. Now Hot Dog was a dog that was always cold. He would lie on top of the heat registers that were so hot you couldn’t put your foot on them – but he’d cover them and soak up the heat.

One very bitter cold night I let them out before I went to bed and Hairy came back shortly but Hot Dog didn’t show up. I waited for a while, and then went to bed, getting up several times during the night to check to see if he had come back. He showed up the next morning, looking like he’d been “partying” all night, which I’m sure he had. Now you all know how low to the ground a Daschund is – and that year the snow was deep. So that night when I got home from work, there was Hot Dog suffering the results of frost bite on his “vital parts” that had been dragged through the snow while he was out “partying.” Everything was swollen and blistered and quite painful, I’m sure. So I called the vet who told me what ointment to apply to the “vital organs.” The vet laughed and asked me if this poor dog didn’t know enough to come in out of the cold. I told him that Hot Dog was a typical male and was just thinking with the wrong head!!

Talking about cold temperatures and doing stupid things. The first year that we were married I spent the months of January and February living by myself while Ole was going to school down in Minneapolis. He’d be home on weekends and that was all. We had an extremely cold snap during the month of January, but regardless of the temperature you get up and go to work anyway, as long as your car will start. I had plugged mine in, so it started right up, then went back in the house to finish getting ready for work. That’s when I heard on the radio that the actual temperature that morning was 52 DEGREES BELOW ZERO. I had ten miles to go to work, and must have been insane. With temperatures like that your car could stop along the way and where would that leave you – pretty crisp when they found you.

Then there was the year we drove home from California in January. We had flown out to visit Big Brother with the intention of buying a Mustang and driving it back to Minnesota. We found a l968 Mustang convertible (beautiful) and decided to take it home. Now mind you, this was a California car – never driven in cold weather, but Ole and Big Brother checked everything over before we took off to assure that it was in good running order. When we got as far north as Nebraska we ran into bad weather and very cold temperatures. The farther north we went the worse it got. The wind chill was at 100 below zero and the visibility was so bad you could barely see the front of the hood. Lovely Daughter was just a little girl then and we had her wrapped up in every blanket and jacket that we had along so that all you could see were two big brown eyes peering out. The top of the convertible didn’t fit tight so the snow was blowing in, landing on the dash and NOT melting, so you know it was cold in the car. We finally got as far as Sioux Falls and I convinced Ole we needed to stop. At that point in time he was invincible – you know how men are when they’re young. We found a motel, and then tried to figure out how we were going to get this car to start the next morning. Ole found an auto store, bought an engine heater, went to a car wash where it was warm to install it and when he came back to the motel plugged it in and took the battery out and brought it into the hotel room. The next morning he reassembled the car and it was the ONLY car in the parking lot that started. There were California plates on this car, and Ole had a good time going around the parking lot, jumping other cars and pretending he was from California. He even jumped a car with Alaska plates that wouldn’t start and got a big chuckle out of that.

So I guess for now I'll just "bask" in the warm temperatures we have right now - 25 ABOVE - and remember those frigid frosty days of long ago.

Are you ready for Christmas yet?

Love Lena

Of More Christmases Past

2010-12-17T09:47:00.005-06:00

It's been a whole week since I promised you stories about Christmas in Iceland. I got a bit distracted due to the fact that my office/computer room has been torn apart for the last week. We tore all the old carpet out (Phew) and replaced it with laminate flooring. What a job. And isn't it amazing when you get all the furniture out of a room how dirty the walls look? Well, I just couldn't put the furniture back without having clean walls too - so that meant tearing the wallpaper border off and putting two coats of paint on. I worked so hard on tearing that wallpaper border off - did a section of about 6 feet in a couple of hours because, you know, it never comes off as easy as it goes on. So Ole took pity on me and took over the ugly job. That man can make difficult things look so easy it's just amazing. He had the other three walls done in the time it took me to do that six foot section. I guess I'll keep him around for awhile longer!

So then we come to the point of getting things back into the room. I had promised myself that not everything that came out was going back in so I've spent hours going through everything and sorting and throwing and throwing and sorting. But the job is coming to the end - I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now.

One of the things I'm most proud of is that rat's nest of wires and cables that are always associated with a computer. I do a lot of video and graphic work on my computer and have a lot of different kinds of hardware hooked up - thus the rat's nest behind the desk. Well, Ole took it upon himself to do what he calls "dressing the cables" - no - not putting little clothes on them, but sorting them all out and making them neat and then wiretying them in place so you can actually tell what belongs where now. No more cables laying all over the floor getting tangled and making a mess.

But - on to what I promised you.

Our next two Christmases (see previous entry) were spent in Iceland in a town called Keflavik, located on the far southwestern peninsula of the country, just outside the gates of the NATO Base that's located there. We were 30 miles from the capital of Iceland, Reykjavik, and between the two cities ran the only paved road in the entire country. All the other roads were surfaced with ash from volcanoes. Iceland is extremely volcanic, and had two "pop their tops" in the short time we were there. To my knowledge there have been about a half dozen erruptions within the last 20 years - kind of scary, but extremely impressive.

Anyway, back to Christmas: One of the things difficult to get used to in Iceland was the fact that there were NO trees. That meant no Christmas trees either. So all the Christmas trees had to be ordered in June for shipment into the country in November. Thanksgiving came, the trees arrived and Ole went to pick up our little four footer. Understandably, it was so dry by this point it went snap, crackle, pop and every time it was touched about a thousand needles fell off - and we hadn't even set it up yet. We soaked it in water and did everything else we thought would help, but the poor little tree was so far gone by this time it was hopeless. BUT - we had no more to pick from as all the trees were spoken for so we had to make do with what we had. Now being a fairly new bride and new to the country, I of course wanted Christmas to be "perfect." Ole was one of the few enlisted men who had his wife in-country - most of the guys his rank were there alone and not able to go home for the holidays, so we invited a number of them to our house to spend Christmas.

The morning of Christmas Eve I was busy cleaning in preparation for our company, when I bumped the tree stand with the vacuum cleaner. That was the last straw for that little tree. It was already pretty bare but this bump knocked every last needle off. I had a Charlie Brown tree with glass balls and lights. NOW what was I to do. Our tree was bare, we had company coming that I wanted to have a nice Christmas for, and there was not another real tree to be had in the entire country. I made a tearful phonecall to Ole at work and he advised me to run downtown and check on the artificial trees we had seen in the hardware store window. At this point there were three left in the window, one all white, one aluminum and one beautiful green, ferny, lacy one about 5 feet tall that cost $40. It was made in Denmark and was gorgeous. Now mind you, at this point we didn't have a pot to pee in financially, and we certainly could not afford $40 for an artificial tree, but I just knew if I brought home the silver one or the white one I could just as well pack my bags and fly back home. Ole would never stand for that - it was quite an accomplishment just for him to allow an artificial tree at all!! But home it went - I would deal with his wrath later.

By the time he got home I had the tree set up and decorated and even he had to admit it was wonderful - until he found out how much it cost. BUT - we used that tree until 1999 when we donated it to Lovely Daughter and her husband and the tree moved to Quantico, VA and celebrated Christmas with them for several years. We purchased the tree in 1969 and finally retired it to the thrift store in the year 2001, so if you pro-rate it out, we certainly got our money's worth, don't you think? I wish we would have kept it just for nostalgic purposes.

The Icelandics are very big on Christmas. Because of the island's global position, days are very short, and by Christmas time there's only about four hours of daylight, but the Northern Lights are spectacular. The long hours of darkness probably explain why the Icelandics are so big into lighting at Christmastime. EVERYTHING is lit up - even the cemeteries. Their houses have beautiful displays and every apartment balcony has lights strung in various configurations. And what you DON'T see (or didn't at the time we were there) were the garish displays of blow up santas and snowmen and moving things all over everyone's yard and rooftop, etc. Things always seemed to be tastefully done.

Reykjavik is situated along a fjord. As you enter the city in the darkness, coming over the mountain overlooking this city of 100,000 people spread along the ocean, it's quite a fabulous sight. All of the fishing boats and trawlers and large ocean-going vessels are lit with Christmas lights, and it almost makes your heart stop.

All over the countryside and on the edges of the city and the towns the Icelandics build huge bonfires that are burned on a nightly basis between Christmas and New Years, with the biggest set on New Year's Eve, along with huge displays of fireworks.

One way to keep your children in line in Iceland is to tell them about all the trolls that live in the countryside. Santa Claus doesn't have elves for helpers in Iceland - the local trolls watch you all year long to make sure you're being good. And if you could see the rough terrain of the countryside - all huge rocks in weird shapes and forms - and imagine driving those roads at night with headlights flashing - you soon can imagine you truly see trolls dashing from one rock to another, "watching" you. Especially if you've had a drop or two of aquavit!!

One of our dreariest Christmases was spent in Florida, Ole's last year in the Navy. Being natives of the Far North, we certainly weren't used to temperatures of 90 degrees and high humidity at Christmastime. We both had a difficult time trying to develop any Christmas spirit, just wishing we were home back in Minnesota with our families and some cold temperatures and snow. I remember we spent Christmas Eve afternoon walking around the mall for lack of anything better to do and then went home and shut all the drapes, turned the air conditioner on high and played Christmas music trying to get into the spirit of things. The only thing that kept us going was knowing that Ole would be out of the Navy and we would be going home within a couple of months.

Christmas Eve of 1974 was an exciting time for us. We had just completed our new house and spent December 24th moving in. Our families brought dinner in, we set up the tree in our new living room and all celebrated that night. What a wonderful year that was, the culmination of a lot of hard work. Ole and I built our own house, with the help of my father, from the basement up. What a learning experience - but it's still standing, so we must have done something right. I'll tell you about those experiences some day too.

Another memorable Christmas was spent in Quantico, VA, when Lovely Daughter and her Marine husband lived there. It was quite exciting to be in the DC area at that time of year, seeing all the old historic places all prepped for the holidays - Mount Vernon, the White House, the National Christmas Tree, all the memorials and monuments. And we really had to laugh - during the time we were there, the area received an inch of snow in a nice, straight-down snowfall. The poor people went bezerk and all the traffic stopped on the Potomac bridge. People just stopped their cars and got out and walked away!! Schools closed!! Oh, if they could only see what we drive through here.

Five years ago found us in our motorhome camped on the beach just outside of Puerto Penasco on the Sea of Cortez in Mexico. Ole and I, and Big Brother spent two weeks there and it was wonderful. Lovely Daughter and Sven were able to fly down and spend the week between Christmas and New Years with us, so that made it even more special. I would not have agreed to spending Christmas away from home if she couldn't have joined us. That made it complete.

I've put together a little montage of Christmases Past - hope you enjoy it. The pictures aren't anything spectacular as many of them were taken 30+ years ago when we didn't have the camera gear we have now, but hopefully you'll get the idea. One side point: interspersed throughout the montage are a collection of antique postcards that I have. When my mother was a little girl, sending postcards to your friends was a big thing. She kept them all and put them in a scrapbook which she kept all those years. I now have that collection, and have chosen to share some of the beautiful Christmas postcards with you. They are all dated in the 1910-1915 range.

I guess it really doesn't matter WHERE you spend Christmas, as long as you're surrounded by loved ones, that's what's most important. Enjoy.

Love Lena

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Of Christmases Past

2010-12-10T07:12:00.003-06:00

My very first memory of Christmas I must have been about 4 or so. It was after we moved from the big farmhouse that I was born in, into the little 25' trailerhouse that I grew up in. We really didn't have any room for a Christmas tree, so my mother found an artificial one that was less than 12 inches tall - a REAL Charlie Brown Christmas tree, if you will. No lights, just teeny-tiny glass ornaments. This little tree sat on the dresser in the bedroom that I shared with Big Brother, and the packages were piled around it. Christmas Eve finally arrived, my mother had a nice dinner ready and my father arrived home from work bringing with him a 6-pack of pop (soda, for you NON-Midwesterners). That was our special treat for Christmas. Otherwise we never got "pop" throughout the rest of the year. (And to think that I now have a fridge full out in the garage!!) We had to let my Dad know in the morning before he left for work, what flavor we wanted so he could bring it home that night. So after the evening meal was eaten (my Mom and Dad were lutefisk afficianados) and the dishes were done and put away, we sat down with our bottle of pop - yes, it came in glass bottles back then, and the gifts were passed out. This particular year I received a bathrobe that my mother made for me - it was a large Hawaiian print on a teal blue background, made from a puckery-type fabric, and I thought it was just the most beautiful thing I'd ever been given. Why that particular gift sticks in my mind after all these years I can't tell you, but it certainly made an impression on me. I've received many finer things in the years since, but in my mind's eye, that one is still clear as a bell.

Then there was the year Big Brother got his first REAL job. He was in high school and worked as a lineman for a rural electric company. He made pretty good money, but was saving for college. That year he bought me the biggest doll I can ever remember getting. She was beautiful - a Cinderella doll, 24" tall and dressed in gold lame'. She even came with a small gold (plastic) coach that would hold all the pearl and diamond jewelry and tiara that she was wearing. I was so proud of her and had to show her to the neighbor girl that lived down the road. My mother wasn't too keen on this family and wasn't crazy about having the kids in the house and I was soon to discover why. One day after she and her younger sister were visiting, I discovered that my Cinderella doll's coach and all her jewelry were missing, along with the gold lame' dress that Cinderella had been wearing. Now I had a naked doll.

And of course, there was Christmas Day of 1966 - a day I shall never forget. Ole came to pick me up in the dark blue 1949 Ford that he was driving at that time. We were going to spend Christmas Day out at Aunt Mary and Uncle Henry's house with all his relatives. As we got into the car to take off, he dug in his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box - a diamond engagement ring! We were married five months later. Back in those days it didn't take a year or longer to plan and execute a wedding like it seems to today. Nor did they cost up into the thousands and thousands of dollars like they do now.

Our first married Christmas we spent in a little rented trailerhouse too - just like when I grew up. We knew Ole's draft number was coming up (Viet Nam era), so we just kind of lived day by day at that time. By our second Christmas we were living in Chicago where Ole was going to school gratis the Navy, and we were able to drive back to Minnesota for the Holidays. Then came Iceland, where we spent two Christmases - I'll tell you more about that tomorrow. Until then - - -

Love Lena

Nellie's Ringlets

2010-12-09T12:37:00.003-06:00

After seeing the picture of me in yesterday's entry with all the ringlets, I've been accused of secretly being a movie star and not sharing that tidbit of information with you folks. Actually, if you must know the truth, I did try out for the part of Nellie on Little House on the Prairie (snicker), but didn't get it because I didn't have the "mouth" for it. My mother would have washed my mouth out with Lifebuoy soap if I had talked like Nellie to anyone. How many of you remember that soap? That big orange bar that made bubbles come out of the sides of your mouth - YUCK!!

Oh, how I hated those curls - they were absolute torture. I would wake up in the morning with snarly hair. I could count on at least a half hour of sitting on the red kitchen stool while my mother first brushed out all the snarls, and then twisted each segment of hair around her finger with a wet hairbrush. Then off I would skip the block and a half to school, cutting through backyards, picking up additional kids along the way. I envied all the other girls their straight hair, some long, some short. There was only one other girl that had long naturally curly hair like mine, and her mother didn't make HER wear those stupid ringlets.

By the time I was in third grade I was "doing" something about it. I secretly carried a hairbrush in my school bag and would race to the bathroom and brush all the ringlets out into what I thought was a beautiful hairstyle of curly fuzz. Do you think my mother took the hint? Nope - every morning it was back to the kitchen stool and the wet hairbrush. By the middle of third grade my long ringlets reached about halfway down my back. By this time my mother decided it was easier to give in and cut them off as I had been begging. After all, who was being punished here - me having to sit there every morning, or her having to put up with all the fussing every morning. No brainer here. One Saturday she finally took a scissor and whacked all that hair off just below chin length. It didn't take her long to decide that made HER life much simpler in addition to making her daughter much happier.

My first grade picture, looking just a wee bit happier than in the snowflake picture of yesterday's entry. Of course, I wasn't turning into a popcicle here either.

I was awakened at 5:30 this morning to the most obnoxious noise of someone's outboard motor plowing up the middle of my bed. What in the world was going on here - had my bed been put afloat in the middle of a Minnesota lake and Ole was trying to get us ashore or something? When I finally became completely conscious I discovered that Simon, the world's coldest cat, had taken up residence beneath my blankets and had managed to situate himself so that just his nose was peaking out of the covers by my shoulder. And needless to say, he had to let me know how happy he was by putting out his very finest and loudest purr. Then very slowly, a furry paw reached out from beneath the blankets and softly tapped me on the cheek. Persistent tapping indicated that it was definitely time for Simon's breakfast and that he would roust himself out from the warmth if I would only feed him. Poor pathetic, starved, boy.

I'm really not keen on pets being beneath the blankets with you, but this poor old bugger (aged 19) has to do whatever he can to stay warm. He lays in front of the heat registers when the furnace is on, one in particular that gets so hot you can't keep your feet in front of it. Simon parks himself there on an almost permanent basis these days.

Love, Lena

Christmas Snowflakes

2010-12-08T09:55:00.002-06:00

When I was a little girl we used to have Christmas pageants both in school and in church. The church one, of course, was always religiously oriented and told the story of the birth of Jesus. The one presented at school was alternated yearly with either a religious theme or a fantasy theme, i.e. Santa Claus, reindeer, snowmen, etc. Of course, this was back in the days before everything had to be so politically correct and sensitive.

My first five years of school were spent in a two-room school with grades divided between two teachers, who were extremely proficient at “multi-tasking,” and believe me, this was long before computers were even heard of. The school ran first through eighth grade and each of the teachers taught all subjects to four grades each. Every Friday afternoon was a special treat because after “recess” – not physical education – we were allowed to put all our studies away and spend the remainder of the afternoon being creative in Art Class. Until, that is, about the beginning of November, when the teachers would have selected an appropriate Christmas pageant for that year and we would begin rehearsing music.

Within a short period of time we would have “try outs” for parts in the play and full rehearsal would begin. Following Thanksgiving we would rehearse every day for the last hour of the day and costume assignments would be sent home to our mothers who were responsible for either making the costumes themselves or finding someone who was proficient with a needle and thread to complete the task. All of this was at our parents’ expense, of course, because there was nothing in the school budget for anything like that. And everyone always contributed willingly and happily. No grumbling – everyone just did the best they could with what they had.

One pageant that sticks in my memory in particular was the year I had to dress up as a snowflake. There were nine of us, actually, all dressed in homemade tutus that our mothers had made. I can’t remember the name of the play at this point, but it had something to do with a snowman and Toyland. I can still remember how overheated the boy that had to sit inside the snowman costume would get. But believe me, he was the only one that was warm.

As I said, our school was a two room affair, so it certainly didn’t have an auditorium of any kind with a stage, let alone seating capacity for all the parents and family members that would come to attend these plays. So the pageants were always held in the Community Center – at that time called the Town Hall.

Now this building was OLD at THAT time. And as you can imagine the heating system was quite antiquated too. And this particular night the heating system felt like it was non-existent because I’m sure it must have been at least thirty degrees below zero. Insulation and weather stripping were unheard of items back then, and the kitchen area in back of the stage where all of the students who weren’t currently on stage had to stay and remain quiet, was just a wooden shell of 2x4s with some timber covering them to make outside walls. Of course the building had shifted over the years and things didn’t fit very tight anymore, and snow was blowing between the cracks, landing on the floor and it didn’t melt. It didn’t melt even though the mothers had all the burners going on the kitchen stove to try to take even a bit of the chill out of the air.

So there we stood, in our stocking feet and little tutus trying to keep from turning blue until it was our turn to make a stage entrance and do our little snowflake dance.

That's me on the far right with the big bow in my hair - not looking very happy probably because I'm rapidly turning into a popcicle. Note the one little gal, fourth from the left, who broke down and put her shoes on. Probably had frostbite on her toes.

Of course there was always a big celebration following the play – everyone who attended, whether they were a parent or just a spectator, brought a dish to share and a big potluck took place with more than enough food and Christmas goodies for everyone. Santa always made an appearance and handed out oranges or apples along with a bag of candy. Along about midnight everyone headed for home shouting lots of Merry Christmas wishes, and most kids were sound asleep long before their Dad’s drove the car into their driveway and had to carry the children into the house and tuck them into bed.

Now the church pageant was always very ethereal and mystical to me. Always done on a Sunday evening after dark by candlelight only. Of course there was the manger scene with all the wise men and angels, camels, donkeys, etc. We had animal costumes, and it was always a joke as to who was going to be the back half of the donkey. There was always one boy who WANTED to be the backside – his personality fit well, too. He must have known that and played up the part even better.

Rehearsal would take place for weeks every Saturday morning, sometimes for three hours at a time to make sure everyone got their parts right. In addition to music there were always a lot of speaking parts that had to be memorized. Of course there was always a lot of competition to see who would get to play the part of Mary. She was the center of the manger scene and really had it quite easy as she had very little to say. She just had to look pretty. One night poor Mary got sick on stage, apparently with the flu, because I remember vividly that she leaned over and heaved her guts out into the cradle!! I don’t remember what exactly happened after that, but I do remember that the show went on!!

By the time that Lovely Daughter reached school age, pageants of that sort, either religious or fantasy, weren’t allowed anymore. That’s about the time that political correctness became the “in” thing. There were always Christmas programs, but they consisted only of choir music, or instrumentals from the band and orchestra. I often think about how much anticipation and preparation fun was missed out on by the children of that era. All the hours of work that we looked forward to because we knew we were doing something very special, and wanted to do it the very best that we could so the audience would be impressed. And what a wonderful way for the community to work together and to put everyone into the holiday spirit what with all the preparation both in school, church and at home.

Those were the days . . .

Love Lena

Have you got your lutefisk ready for Christmas?

2010-12-07T09:59:00.003-06:00

Well, Folks, you know it's THAT time of year again. The time when you have to resurrect your World War I gas mask when you go by the fish counter in the grocery store, or hold your breath as you drive very swiftly by the local churches that are holding their annual lutefisk suppers. All the GOOD ScandihOOvians are rubbing their tummies and salivating to the point of needing bibs in anticipation of this wonderful delicacy being served during the coming holidays. Me? I'm definitely NOT a good Scandihoovian. I can't stand the stuff. And Ole, being a Finn, doesn't hold with that kind of nonsense either.

Lutefisk starts out by hanging on racks in the dry, cool air of the ScandihOOvian countries. We lived in Iceland for several years, and fishing being the mainstay of their economy, we saw lots of the beginning stages of lutefisk.

After the fish have hung on the racks for about a year - I'm NOT Kidding - a full year, it's so dry that it tinkles in the wind and sounds like wind chimes. That's about the ONLY nice thing about lutefisk. Then it's shipped off to other countries where the good ole' Swedes and Norwegians have emigrated, snapped up by these folks and brought home with great anticipation.

In order to reconstitute the fish it has to be soaked in lye water for an extended period of time, then it's rinsed and rinsed and rinsed. How many times have you ever been eating fish and you say, "You know what this fish needs? Lye!" Me neither.

Do you remember the green slime that used to come in an egg-shaped container? Crack open that container and let the slime run and that gives you a pretty good sense of the overall feel of lutefisk. It's one of the few COOKED fish dishes that could be described as slippery.

Every Christmas my Mother dutifully shopped and shopped for the best lutefisk she could find, and on Christmas Eve would boil it, which would spread the "aroma" throughout the house. My brother and I would run to the farthest point away from the kitchen and cover our heads with layers of blankets trying to avoid the "scent." My sister, on the other hand, along with my parents practically inhaled the stuff.

Swedish food generally isn't known for being real edible, and lutefisk is awful even by those low standards. The pickled herring isn't bad, in fact I kind of like that on occasion. But among other things there's Glog, which is a purple that doesn't occur in nature, requires an open flame and tastes suspiciously like Nyquil. I truly suspect that lutefisk is what drove the Vikings to look for Canada.

Me? I think I'll stick to meatballs for Christmas. How about you?

Love Lena

For all my animal loving friends - Merry Christmas

2010-12-05T19:12:00.000-06:00

Love Lena

A Few of Lena's Secrets

2010-11-26T11:40:00.003-06:00

These things are always kind of fun and help everyone get to know one another better. I was asked to do this several years ago, but thought it's time for a repeat Be honest in your answers and please don't be judgmental when you read mine!! I'm really not as bad as some of these answer might make me out to be. Got any questions about some of my answers? Be happy to answer (maybe) - -

Five Things I Just Don’t Get:
1. Why some people glory in the misery of others.
2. Why George Bush gets blamed for EVERYTHING including the weather.
3. Why people don’t RSVP when they are asked to. Don’t they understand what it means?
4. Why some folks have to stretch the truth to suit their needs.
5. Why everything I eat goes to my waistline.

Other Than Money, I Wish I Had More Of:
1. Time
2. Computer skills
3. Patience
4. An interest in cooking (I’ve burned out)
5. Energy of a 25-year old

Five Least Favorite Words or Phrases:
1. The “F” word – I absolutely hate hearing anyone use it, especially females. Shows a total lack of any intelligence whatsoever
2. Use of the word "Ain’t" - UGH!!
3. "I think you should have the finest of 'whatever' you can afford." (said with sarcasm)
4. "But we've always done it that way."
5. “Mean spirited Republicans” ( There are just as many mean spirited Democrats as Republicans. And just because we don’t want to give the farm away doesn’t mean we’re mean spirited!! So there!!)

Five Famous People I’ve Spoken With In Person:
1. Ed Schaeffer – former governor or North Dakota and Secretary of Agriculture (he’s famous to ME - and we were even invited to the Governor's Ball when he took office!)
2. Spiderman
3. Evel Knievel
4. G. Gordon Liddy
5. Sean Hannity

Five Things I Do Nearly Daily That I Don’t Enjoy:
1. Clean the cat box (Phew)
2. Vacuum dog hair
3. Empty the dishwasher
4. Cook
5. Clean up afterwards

Five Things I Wish I Had The Chance To Do More Often:
1. Quilting
2. Crocheting
3. Sleeping
4. Travel
5. Reading

Five Favorite Movie, Television or Literary Quotes:
1. “I’m older and I have more insurance.” Evelyn Couch in Fried Green Tomatoes
2. “You’ll shoot your eye out!” Ralphie’s Mom in the Christmas Story
3. “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” Scarlet O’hara in Gone with the Wind
4. “I can’t put my arms down!” Ralphie’s brother Randy in a Christmas Story
5. "Humbug I tell you, Humbug!" Ebenezar Scrooge in the original Christmas Carol

Five Things I Have Actually Done That Sound Like Lies:
1. International smuggling (I'll have to write about that some day.)
2. Worked for the Mafia in Chicago - any questions?
3. Actually kept my mouth shut and temper contained when I would have liked to have "spewed" all over someone.
4.
5.

Five People I hope Will fill This Out:
1) Road Sage
2) Schnitzel & the Trout
3) Meemaw Bakes Memories
4) Stitchin by the Lake
5) L-Empress

Well, there you have it Folks. Have a great day - I've got a lot of miles to cover today so had best get busy.

Love Lena

An After Thanksgiving Poem

2010-11-25T22:35:00.001-06:00

AFTER THANKSGIVING POEM

I ate too much Turkey, I ate too much corn,
I ate too much pudding and pie.
I'm stuffed up with muffins and too much stuffin'
I'm probably going to die.
I piled up my plate and I ate and I ate.
But I wish I had known when to stop,
For I'm so crammed with yams, sauces, gravies, and jams
That my buttons are starting to pop!
I'm full of tomatoes and french fried potatoes
My stomach is swollen and sore,
But there's still some dessert so I guess it won't hurt if
I eat just a little bit more!

Love Lena (burp)

My Very First Turkey

2010-11-24T12:23:00.002-06:00

I know this is my second entry of the day, and I really have to get busy in the kitchen, but I just had to share this with you. It's a repeat of an entry I wrote several years ago so some of you may remember it. But I just thought it might give you a chuckle. Read on - - -
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I bet I never told you the story about the very first turkey I ever cooked, did I? Well, get yourself a cup of coffee and get comfy in your computer chair. Here goes.

As a bride of only one year, Ole moved me off to the NATO base in Keflavik, Iceland. Prior to that time we lived in a small (very small) mobile home in a mobile home park on a lot about the size of a postage stamp. Needless to say, this didn’t make for good entertaining capabilities, so I hadn’t done much cooking or meal planning for more than just the two of us. I am fortunate that Ole will eat anything I put in front of him, and in those early days never complained about my amateurish cooking - with one exception.

His favorite pie was banana cream pie. It’s not anymore cuz I think I ruined it for him. I’ll tell you this short little story before I get to the Turkey Delight.

Anyway, one Saturday when I was at home and he was working I thought I would surprise him with not one, but two banana cream pies. I worked so hard on making the pie crust from scratch – none of those store-bought crusts for me. I filled the pies with the banana pudding and sliced bananas and then came to the meringue. I’m not a fan of meringue myself, but in Ole’s world banana cream pie had to have meringue because that’s the way his mother always made it (any of you ladies heard that before?) So I dug out my trusty old Good Housekeeping cookbook from 1957, looked up the recipe and proceeded. I broke and separated a half dozen eggs and proceeded to beat the living H-E-double toothpicks out of them, added the cream of tarter and then realized I was supposed to also add sugar – according to this recipe two tablespoons per egg white. Well, somewhere in my Young Bride brain I left behind the word tablespoon and superimposed the word cup. As I gradually added 12 cups of sugar to the six eggs, the peaks kept getting higher and higher. After putting the meringue on the pies I tucked them into the oven for browning. I watched carefully and pulled them out just at the right time – beautiful high peaks of meringue that were golden brown on the tips. Picture perfect. They were sitting on the counter cooling when Ole came home that night. He couldn’t wait to sample so grabbed a fork to dip in for a bit of a taste. I happened to be in the other end of the mobile home, but I could hear when the fork hit the meringue with a loud TWANG so hard it bent the tines. Then he tried it again in a different spot and again on the other pie. Same results – TWANG! Then he chuckled and asked me where I had gone that day to get concrete? That’s when I discovered that 12 cups of sugar is just a bit much for 6 egg whites. Actually, I haven’t made meringue since. Now if Ole wants something on top of his banana cream pie he gets Cool Whip!! Remember – simplify your life.

Anyway, back to the turkey in Iceland. We lived off base by choice when we lived in Iceland. We thought as long as we were there we might as well enjoy as much of the flavor of the country as possible. But this did present one itty-bitty problem. In order to buy groceries at the commissary and take them off base there were a number of steps you had to go through. First of all you were only allowed to take a preset dollar amount of groceries off base on a weekly basis. This was called your Take-off Allowance. This was all due to the fact that the Icelandic government didn’t want American goods making a negative impact on their economy. Guess they were afraid we’d sell all that cheap American food to the Nationals or something. Once you had made your food purchases for the week you had forms to fill out and then had to go through Icelandic Customs where they would check your bags and make sure you didn’t have more than what you claimed. Yeah, this was a pain in the neck, but it didn’t take us or all the other Americans living off base to figure out ways around this little bottleneck. I won’t go into them now, as that’s another story, but if we’d been caught we would have had a record for “international smuggling.” How’s THAT for being a bad girl?

We rented a large house off base overlooking the ocean, which made for a beautiful view with all the snow capped mountains across the fjord. Because our house was so big it was always kind of Grand Central Station not only for other married couples but also the single guys stationed there, and the guys who had to leave their wives back in the States. Kind of a sanctuary to get away from all the military bullshit that would take place on a NATO base. So I got the bright idea that I would fix Thanksgiving dinner for all these guys that frequented our house. Now, for someone who’s never fixed a turkey before in their life, that wasn’t exactly an intelligent decision. First off, getting the turkey presented a problem, let alone not knowing how to cook one. The commissary had ordered a limited number of turkeys that year, most of them going to the officers which left very little for the enlisted personnel to pick from. And because I was having a number of hungry guys for dinner I knew I’d need more than a 12 pounder, which was about all there was left. Not only was the size a problem, but also by the time I had purchased everything else I needed for dinner I had reached my limit of Take Off Allowance.

Never fear – the guys in the Supply Department where I worked, unbeknown to me, came to my rescue.

One afternoon, shortly before Thanksgiving, one of the guys who drove the supply truck through the gates out to the remote sites on a daily basis came up to my office and asked for my house keys. I didn’t question him about why, because several of the guys kept extra sets of clothing at our house so they could change into civies (civilian clothes) once they were through the gates. The Icelandic government requested that all military men, regardless of their rank, be dressed in uniform when they were off base. Guess it was a good way to keep track of them or something.

So Bud picked up my house keys, and about an hour later came back to my office and returned them. When I got home that night, I walked into the kitchen and there sat a 28 lb. turkey in my kitchen sink – frozen solid – and only three days until Thanksgiving. Remember – I had never cooked a turkey in my life and I’m presented with this behemoth!! Somehow I wrestled that thing around in my sink for the next several days trying to get it thawed out, having to twist and turn it periodically because only about a third of it would sit underwater. It still had ice crystals inside when I stuck my hand in to take out the “interior parts.” And of course it didn’t have a pop up timer either.

So Thanksgiving morning came and I was up at 5 a.m. stuffing that dam bird. I put it in a pan, opened the oven door and then realized that this bird was NOT going to fit into the oven of an Icelandic kitchen stove (they’re somewhat smaller than our American appliances.) After taking out all the oven wracks and jostling things around a bit, binding the turkey legs tighter to the body, I finally managed to get Mr. Turkey into the oven with neck and butt each touching the oven wall on their respective sides. Obviously there was no room for anything else in that oven.

I had invited everyone for dinner at 4 p.m. The guests arrived, 4 p.m. came and went, we fed them more wine, 5 p.m. came and went, more wine, wash, rinse, repeat. By 7 o’clock the bird finally decided it was done, although the rest of the meal was somewhat dried out, when we finally sat down to eat. The outer parts of the turkey were pretty good, but down by the bones things were still a bit on the pink side – not quite done. But after that much wine nobody really cared anyway.

Since then I’ve had a lot more practice, so things turn out a bit better now. And nobody got sick from the 28 pounder!!

So it's come down to this?

2010-11-24T11:00:00.003-06:00

Is it my imagination or do the retailers start pushing the holiday season earlier every year? Two weeks prior to Halloween I remember walking into Target to get some Halloween decorations and the stockers were busy putting Christmas things on the shelves. Fleet Farm, who has been famous in our area for opening up toyland the day after Thanksgiving, opened it this year the day after Halloween. As I was doing my Thanksgiving grocery shopping last Friday, I did it to the tune of Jingle Bells. What happened to Thanksgiving? Where did it get lost?

For me, Thanksgiving has always been the "Kickoff" to the holiday season, the holiday that puts you in the mood for family gatherings and the time to reflect on all the things you have to be thankful for. As a kid, I remember my mother started her baking and lefse making prior to Thanksgiving because we always had a table full of people that enjoyed her homemade goodies. Several weeks in advance she would issue the dinner invitations and each one was reciprocated with "What can I bring?"

Thanksgiving morning was always started by going to church with all the beautiful fall decorations, the sun shining through the stained glass windows and a sermon on all the things we had to be thankful for. Then it was home to a table that was always laden to the breaking point with each lady's specialty that everyone ooohed and aaawed over and inhaled as everything was passed around the table. Then it was nap time for the adults and if there was snow on the ground (which there certainly is this year) it was outside for the kids with snowsuits and sleds. Later on all the leftovers came out again and we filled up with turkey sandwiches on homemade dark buns. Believe it or not there were still leftover-leftovers to put away again. Following kitchen cleanup the cards came out and a few games of whist for the adults and go to the dump for the kids followed.

It seems that the days of celebrating each holiday individually are gone - and I miss it. Our world is turning so fast these days that life is being rushed. It's all about the money - who can have the best sales and get the most people into the stores on Black Friday. It would be a cold day in you-know-where before I would go shopping on Black Friday. There is NOTHING that I need so badly nor is the sale that good that I would get up in the wee hours of the morning and go stand in line to get "whatever." Last year at one of the stores in our local area there were several people that got injured when they were pushed through the glass doors of the store by the crowd behind. These hard core shoppers are crazy. And the retailers aren't much better. We have one store in our local area that is opening at MIDNIGHT on Thanksgiving night - not 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning like most of them do in our area, but MIDNIGHT!!

Our minister announced last Sunday that there isn't even going to be a Thanksgiving Day church service this year!! He didn't say why, just that there wasn't going to be one. This man needs to be talked to - but that's an entry for another day. Maybe he and his wife are resting up for Black Friday?

I've been busy doing some "pre"cooking this week. So far there are two batches of fudge, one chocolate, one peanut butter, a double batch of cheesecake bars, a double batch of party mix and a double batch of no-bake fudge cookies. There's also a carmel apple pie, a pecan pie and a pumpkin pie.

On the menu for Thursday:
Turkey with wild rice stuffing
Mashed potatoes with gravy (of course)
Scalloped corn
Candied sweet potatoes
Pea salad
Copper pennies (sweet and sour carrots)
Green bean casserole (what would Thanksgiving be without that?)
Norwegian flat bread
Mandarin orange salad
Lingon berries with cream (mmmm - they are so good)
Cranberries
Coleslaw
Lefse

You're all invited.

Love Lena

Rooster Juice

2010-11-20T14:52:00.004-06:00

About a week ago I had my one year exam and x-ray for my hip surgery. I can't believe it's been a whole year - well, it will be on December 3rd. I passed with flying colors. Doc said everything had healed perfectly, and I reported that there were a lot of things I could do now that I haven't been able to do for a number of years due to pain. Like ride on the back of the Harley - if you've ever ridden on the back of a bike you know that you have to wrap your knees around the driver's backside, and that hurt due to the angle that my hips had to be at. No more though. Now I can go longer on the back of the bike than Ole can in the driver's seat. He got to get off and rejuvenate long before I do!!

BUT - for some reason he x-rayed my knee also and I sure didn't pass there. Way back in 1984 I crash landed in a hot air balloon and broke my kneecap into three pieces. It was wired back together and the wire is still there. It was never removed. As the years have gone on that knee has become more and more painful and I've favored that leg a lot. As a result it's all worn out. It's bone on bone. Not fun. So Doc told me I need to have it replaced - AACCKK! Not another winter of recuperation - PLEASE! So he offered me an alternative. He suggested we try 'Rooster Juice' - at least that's what he called it. It's a lubricant made from the combs of roosters. He told me that some people get great relief and some people get none at all. I thought it was worth a try - after all, if it doesn't work I'm only out a poke with a couple of needles.

Well, Folks - so far it's working. Do I hear all of you cheering - I believe I do. I'm a bit stiff in the mornings but after a few minutes I'm moving along just great. It's so wonderful to take a step and not have pain issues. I suppose a knee replacement is inevitable at some point, but I'm not going to think about that now. I'm just going to enjoy what I have.

Ole and I had to go to Walmart last night. As we were headed for the electronics aisle (always have to check that out, you know), I was walking fast enough to be way ahead of Ole. When he caught up with me he was amazed. He said he was walking at his normal slow pace that I could barely keep up with before, and now I was just chugging along as though I was in the Great Race.

I had the Rooster Juice injection about 5 days ago, and I'm also amazed at how much more energy I have developed in these last 5 days. But you all know that when you hurt all the time it really wears you out. My insurance company dictates that I can't have another injection for 6 months, so hopefully this will last that long.

So on my agenda today: Earlier this fall I hauled my potted plants from outside into our 3-season room. When I woke up this morning the temperature in that room was 31 degrees, and it was 13 degrees outside. Time to haul those babies into the heated garage for the winter. But of course, nothing can ever go according to plan and just get done - I just had to drop one of them and spill dirt all over. Fortunately the pot needed watering so I just had to clean up dry dirt, not mud. So those babies are all put away nice and snug under a grow light in a heated garage for the winter.

Then it was time to go into the kitchen and get busy. So far I've completed a double batch of party mix, one batch of chocolate fudge with another batch of peanut butter fudge in the works. There is also a batch of no-bake fudge cookies sitting on the counter. So the baking has begun. Neither Ole nor I need all the holiday goodies, but I like to give them away. Lovely Daughter loves party mix and Lars is addicted to anything chocolate so he really snarfs down the fudge. They're both so young yet that they wear the calories nicely.

All for now, Folks. The beeper on my oven is going off so that means there's something that needs to be taken out.

Love you all, Lena

A Lump in my Stomach

2010-11-11T15:35:00.005-06:00

Ah, yes, and I'll probably have it there for the remainder of the winter, through the spring until flooding season is over again. Every time it snows or rains I'll be wondering how much higher this will make the river in the spring.

We went to the Watershed Board meeting last Monday night to find out where they were on letting us build a dike around our house. You have to have all kinds of permits and things, you know, before you can do ANYTHING to your own property. We've been working with the Watershed Board for three years now trying to get things worked out. I won't go into all their reasoning, which seems quite bogus, but like they say, you can't fight city hall. We've had Watershed Board engineers and designers out here several times this summer, planning and drafting and drawing, etc., and bringing their designs back to the board. We've hired our own engineers and have had soil boring tests done and more. We finally came to some terms that we can all agree on, although they aren't good. But at least we agree.

For the last three years there has been money in the budget to do this project. The way the program works is that the DNR pays 50% of the costs, the Water Board pays 25% and we foot the remaining 25% of the costs. After we spent three years working the kinks out of everything, at the last meeting they told us that there is no more money available.

Oh, well, I wasn't crazy about putting a dike in anyway. It would mean digging up everything, lots of mud to contend with and starting over with all the landscaping. I've finally got Ole convinced that we should put the place on the market and look for something new - away from the river.

So we had a real estate agent come out and look at the property. She was in awe - telling us that under normal circumstances there wouldn't be any problem selling our property due to its location and layout. She didn't even think there would be a problem selling it because buyers would be afraid of the flooding situation. You see, the house has never been wet - but our driveway goes under and the outbuildings get water in them about every third year. And with all the rain we've had this summer and into fall, the soil is so saturated that I'm sure we're in for a humdinger next spring even if we don't get much snow. BUT - and here's where the glitch comes in - she said she doubted that anyone would be able to get financing because of the water issue unless we put up the dike.

Okay. Now we don't have a choice - we have to put up a dike and at this point we'll have to fund the whole thing on our own because some bureaucrats sat on their you-know-what's so long that the money was all used up.

The problem is that according to the estimates that we've had done for a dike it would cost more than what we could get in return for the investment if/when we sold the property.

Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

Here's a few pictures that were taken a year ago this past summer. You can see how close the river is, although you can't see what a steep incline there is.

Oh well, I'll just have to put it in God's hands and trust that he will do what's best for us.

Love you all,

Lena

Oh Happy Day

2010-11-04T11:59:00.003-05:00

It's over!! It's all over now but the recounts!! So I guess we'll have to sit through those for the next several weeks/months. Isn't it awful that there are people in this country that will go to any means to get the outcome that they want? Even our precious freedom of being able to vote has been corrupted.

I'm SO proud of some of the people in the State of Minnesota - NOT!! There are allegations of groups of mentally disabled people being brought to vote and being instructed in not only how to vote but who to vote for. Shame, shame. Why can't we just have an honest election once without all the 'hanging chads' (issues) that seem to always be attached. It's times like these that my faith in mankind just totally goes down the toilet.

Well, now that I've had my say about that - on to more fun things.

I must admit that Ole and I are very lazy morning people. We rarely get out of bed before it's light (don't forget to change your clocks back Sat. night), and then spend some time sitting in the living room with a cup or two of coffee looking out the bay window at our deck and all the entertainment that's there in the mornings.

I've really outdone myself on bird feeders this year - I have four quite large feeders hanging off the edge of the deck with a few special feeders just for the squirrels. Believe me, there are mornings that there is extremely heavy traffic out there. Living by the river we've got a ton of squirrels that come to visit on a daily basis. Big gray squirrels, little red squirrels and fox squirrels. The fox squirrels are by far the prettiest with their huge fluffy tails and have a much more mild personality than the grays or the reds. They all squabble and fight over the sunflower seeds and the corn and then the blue jays come dive bombing in and scare everything away.

This year I bought a squngee to attach corn cobs to. It's kind of like bungee jumping for the squirrels. There's a long spring covered by some nylon fabric with hooks on each end and when the squirrel grabs the ear of corn the spring goes into action. It's amazing what acrobats the squirrels are and how well they can hang on and eat at the same time.

The squirrels keep Senior Citizen Simon and Lucy (two kitties) well entertained every day, but Daisy (German Shepherd) barely pays any attention to them anymore. She knows she's too old to catch them anymore so just puts her head on Ole's feet and takes her morning nap.

I'm so proud of myself - I finished all my outside work, getting everything put away and ready for winter. The beginning of the week I finished washing all my windows and I only have one that I have to go back and redo because of the streaks. Amazing what you see when the sun shines through them. So this afternoon I'm going to start shoveling out my sewing room so that I can get down to some serious quilting. I haven't really had an opportunity to do any sewing of any kind since my hip replacement a year ago. Unfortunately my sewing room has kind of become a catch-all for all kinds of stuff and today is 'S-O Day' - shovel out day.

The sun is shining here and it's 39 degrees - that may not sound warm to many of you, but for a November day in Minnesota it's beautiful. And there's no snow on the ground - YET!!

Love you all, Lena

Mash those Spuds!

2010-10-26T09:00:00.006-05:00

I was over visiting at Stitchin' by the Lake's house this morning, where she was writing about high school mascots and getting together with old high school friends. I thought I had told you all the stories of my growing up years, but her blog entry brought back memories that I haven't written about previously.

Ole and I live in the Red River Valley of the North (yeah, there's another one down south in Texas I think). Supposedly this is one of the most fertile areas in the world because it's the bottom of old Lake Agassiz, a huge lake that covered a portion of Minnesota and North Dakota back in the glacial times. (At least something's older than I am!)

Anyway, the Red River Valley is under that little arm of blue that covers the border of North Dakota and Minnesota. Back in the glacial times when the lake decided to go away it flowed north and drained into Hudson's Bay and left behind the Red River. So now the stupid river flows north, which is the reason that we have such severe flooding in our area - because the ice up north hasn't thawed in the spring as early as the ice down in our southern area so it holds up the flow.

Now, you may ask, where in the world is this demented old bag going with all this - what has any of this to do with high school mascots?

Well, actually a lot. Our soil here is black - not gray, not brown, not red but very, very black - like night. It's silt from the bottom of the old lake bed, and as I said previously extremely fertile. And it grows potatoes like you wouldn't believe. There are potato farms around here that are thousands of acres in size with huge machines that dig the potatoes, load them into trucks where they're taken to warehouses and sorted for size and quality, then shipped in boxcars all over the United States.

So now the connection: It seems all high schools have mascots for their sports teams - the Tigers, the Wolves, Stitchin' by the Lake's high school mascot was the Zebras. Locally we have high schools with names like the Indians, the Bison, the Eagles - you get the picture. Most high schools have mascots that represent something powerful and strong.

Now how would you like to attend a school whose mascot was a potato!! We'd go to football games and the opposing cheerleaders would be out on the field leading a cheer and yelling "MASH THOSE SPUDS, MASH THOSE SPUDS!" How humiliating! Spuds didn't represent anything mighty and strong - just a fluffy plop of white potatoes in the bottom of a kettle. How impressive.

See that little potato guy over there on the left? That was Spud. And we even had someone who was foolish enough to dress up in a papermache potato and run around out on the football field or the basketball floor waving his spud flag. And then to top it off, our high school colors were black and orange. Believe me, we looked like we were dressed for Halloween twelve months out of the year. Every Friday was game day so everyone of course dressed in the colors - black and orange floating around all over the hallways.

I guess you just never know what's going to start my motor. Reading Stitchin's blog this morning brought all this up from the recesses of the computer memory banks. Some days you just gotta take what you get.

I'm off to the grocery store now to lay in a few necessary items before the blizzard hits that we have forecast. In my memory the earliest I've ever seen it storm here was on Halloween. Lovely Daughter was just a wee one then - I think about 4 or 5. They postponed Halloween that year because it was storming so bad you couldn't see to drive. This one may be a record breaker for being early in the year.

Must run - love you all,

Lena

What's happened? I just don't understand it!!

2010-10-24T19:06:00.002-05:00

We've been blessed with a beautiful fall here in Minnesota. I was really beginning to wonder though, as back in September all it did was rain and rain and rain. But once October hit we've had our true Indian Summer and it's been wonderful. There have been several days earlier in the month where I actually had to turn on the a/c due to the warm temperatures. But now things are back to normal and daytime temps range in the 50s and nighttimes in the 30s. We've had a couple of frosty nights where things have been nipped a bit but not a true hard frost as of yet. Unfortunately, not even cold enough to kill the pesty biting bugs. But that's coming - you can bet on that.

I do have a problem, though. And I'm not sure I can account for it. Maybe you readers can help me out a bit.

I finally got to the point where I was ready to dump all my flower pots, pick up all my garden decorations and put them away and just get everything organized for winter. That included picking up all the leaves that had fallen from all the trees on 5 acres of property. That's a LOT of leaves, you know.

I started on Friday, continued into Saturday, and with Ole's help got ALMOST everything complete. But by 4 o'clock on Saturday afternoon I had to quit. I could hardly wiggle anymore. And believe me, if I can't wiggle, that's a pretty definite sign that I'm tired. My back hurt, my legs hurt, my arms hurt - I'm not sure there wasn't a part of me that didn't hurt. All this called for a nice long sit in the hot tub and an early to bed.

Now, here's the question: How come a few years ago I could work like this all day long and then go out and party half the night? What happened?

When I complained to my doctor about this lack of energy thingie a couple of weeks ago when I had my annual physical, he told me it probably had something to do with the fact that my age numbers were now on the down side of 60. I told him I didn't want to hear it and that he better come up with a better explanation. (He happens to be the same age I am - ha, ha!)

I keep telling Ole that we have to sell this place and buy something smaller; less acreage = less work, but for some reason he doesn't seem to believe me. I'm at a point in my life where I want to be able to do things I WANT to do (like spend more time quilting, crocheting, etc,. ) and not the things I have to do (mowing grass, pulling weeds, etc.)

Okay - I'm going to go crochet now and watch the Vikings. Do you think they can pull it off and win over the Packers?

Love you all,

Lena

Meatballs anyone? How about a bit of coleslaw?

2010-10-15T11:21:00.003-05:00

IT'S OVER!! We fed people until they couldn't swallow another meatball with gravy and mashed potatoes and had coleslaw coming out of their ears.

It's our annual church meatball supper I'm talking about. I'm an officer in our ladies organization and have been for the last five years. The other two officers have also been in place for a length of time and we're getting somewhat burned out. It gets more and more difficult each year to find ladies who want to contribute their time and energy to put on these fund raisers, and unfortunately they don't just happen by themselves. So it seems to fall on the same people all the time.

Two weeks ago six of us got together to make up 125 lbs. of hamburger into meatballs. One gal made 7 gallons of gravy (her gravy is superior.) Last Monday the pres. and I made 50 lbs. of cabbage into coleslaw. On Wednesday 5 of us got together and peeled, boiled and mashed 300 lbs. of potatoes.

Those things all went well as everyone who worked works well together and accomplished a lot. But as I said, it's always the same ones who do the work as anyone else who is asked always has a variety of excuses as to why they can't participate.

One of the officers who didn't participate in any of this preparation -we'll call her Bossy and you'll see why later - drives everyone crazy. She never does any work but makes a habit of telling everyone what to do and how to do it. So - as a result I need to tell you the Coleslaw Story.

Here goes:

Last year Bossy was in charge of serving the cole slaw and unfortunately we ran out. We had such a big crowd last year that none of the workers got to eat even one measly meatball, or even a bite of coleslaw. So this year we decided we had to prepare for about 25% more people. Then, of course we had to calculate what the increase in supplies would be before we went to buy the groceries. Well, Bossy was in charge of the cole slaw and through her recipe books determined that we needed to buy 100 lbs of cabbage plus carrots to chop. Me - being in charge of buying all the groceries - took her word for it (because you just don't argue with Bossy). Although I did, along with the other two officers, question her about such a large amount. So I ordered the cabbage and the carrots and the following Monday Lou and I got together at the church and started chopping cabbage. Bossy of course had a social schedule that wouldn't allow her to come and help. I think she had a luncheon date or some such thing. So Lou and I spent the better part of the day preparing cabbage and carrots. By the time we had gone through 50 lbs of cabbage we had four bus tubs full and decided that was enough. We cooked up the dressing and then let it sit out to cool and decided to come back that evening to mix it all up.

Meantime Bossy had come to the church, was horrified that that was all the cabbage we had and just knew it wasn't going to be enough. So she called me and informed me of her discovery and told me that she was going to take a couple more heads of cabbage home and would have to spend the day making MORE coleslaw so she would be sure we wouldn't run out. Have at it, Bossy. Knock yourself out.

That evening she called me to say that she had made one more gallon. Meantime Lou and her husband had gone back to the church to mix up all the vegies and the dressing and then transferred the slaw to three five gallon plastic pails with covers. These are the kind of pails that restaurant supply companies use for their food. That evening I got another email from Bossy stating that she had gone through her cook books again and decided that we only needed 64 lbs of cabbage instead of the 100 that she originally thought.

By this time I had just about enough of her and wrote a rather terse email back stating that Lou had called our local deli (which we should have done in the first place), explained the situation to them, told them how much slaw we had and they determined that we had enough to feed over 500 people. I told Bossy that I hoped she had saved space in her fridge because she was probably going to have to take a bucket or two or slaw home with her!! And besides - buying all these unnecessary supplies had cut into our profit margin.

Well, she didn't like that very well as the next morning I had an email - in very large bold RED letters stating that she had only told us what her recipe books had said.

So last night we were in the midst of serving when Bossy came to get Lou and insisted that she come back to where she was dishing coleslaw immediately. She was in a panic and stated that she refused to serve anymore slaw because it tasted like plastic and she wasn't going to be responsible for anybody getting sick. Remember - this is halfway through the dinner. Lou tasted the slaw and it tasted fine to her. I tasted it and it tasted fine to me. Bossy angrily announced that this was all our fault because we had stored it in these plastic buckets and now it was tainted. It was her opinion that we better find a better way to store it next year or she just wasn't going to be part of it. Lou and I looked at each other, smiled, and announced to her that neither of us intended to be part of the production next year so somebody else could worry about it. THAT didn't sit well at all and we had another explosion. She walked off the job and we had to find someone else to step in and finish the job.

Bossy, of course, didn't stay to help clean up when the dinner was over. As we were taking inventory of what we had left - an ice cream bucket full of meatballs and gravy, enough potatoes to feed about 25 people, one large can of corn, a couple pans of dessert and 10 GALLONS OF COLE SLAW!! We donated everything to the homeless shelter, but I had all I could do to keep Ole from bringing the cole slaw back to Bossy's house and leaving it on her back step!!

Maybe I should have let him. What do you think?

Anyway, it's over - it was a huge success - we got rave reviews on the food. But I'm tired and stiff this morning and not very ambitious. Unfortunately, by the time I sat down to eat I wasn't even interested in eating. So instead I had a piece of Betty M.'s pecan pie. She makes pecan pie that melts in your mouth.

Love Lena

Do you hate the dentist?

2010-10-13T22:02:00.003-05:00

I do! No, I don't hate him personally, but just the fact that he's a dentist.

I had to make that visit this morning and I had all I could do to get myself there - you know - talk myself into driving to his office, signing in, climbing into the hygenists chair and sitting there throughout the cleaning. You know - gas is absolutely mandatory for me or else they would have to pick me off the light fixtures on the ceiling.

You see, when I was a kid there was no such thing as dental insurance so as a result we kids didn't get to go to the dentist until we had CAVERNS in our teeth. Then the dentist that my folks took us to was some old drunk that didn't believe in novacaine but you better d-mn well sit still or he would slap the Sh-t out of you. So some umpty-whatever years later I HATE dentists no matter how wonderful they are.

I had an appointment for a cleaning this morning. The hygenist that worked on my is wonderful. She's SO concientious and so kind and so concerned about my comfort level, but I still made her give me gas. Half way through the cleaning she commented on how tense I still was even though I was high on that "good stuff." And her cleaning certainly wasn't painful in any respect. But I still ended up with one pinhead cavity that I have to go back to have filled.

Then Mr. Dentist came in to give the teeth a going over. He is the SON of our attorney, and was stationed in Iceland at the turn of the century so we have a number of issues to discuss each time we see each other. (Ask me if I feel old or not. We were in Iceland in 1969 through 1972. He was stationed there in 2002. We also graduated from high school with his father!)

Anyway, that laughing gas they give you is some wonderful stuff. I wish I could get it in pill form and I would quickly become addicted!

So on to other things. There are so many things to cover I don't even know where to start. I know I've been absent from blogger world for some time. But to be honest with you I've been so overwhelmed with things I just haven't known where to begin or end. My emotional world has kind of turned inside out and I haven't been able to write about it let alone deal with it. Hopefully that will come to a head soon and I'll be able to put it into words.

Even though I've been absent please remember that I love you all and have been trying to keep up with your world.

Love Lena

I think/hope I have my life back now

2010-09-20T17:43:00.004-05:00

I've had company since the end of August. That's a looonnng time. Not that I haven't enjoyed it (to a point) but that's a long time to have a number of other people in your house as guests. I had three until the week after Labor Day, and then the couple left and my brother stayed. He just pulled out this morning to head for home - so now I'm starting to sort out my life again, try to get back to a normal schedule and play catch up. We did have a grand time, but there's something to be said for getting back to your routine and sleep schedule.

Something happened today that has broken my heart. Several years ago there was a woman that I thought was a good friend of mine that interferred with my family and caused a very large rift at the time that hasn't truly healed yet. I'm not sure that it ever will from my end. She stepped between Lovely Daughter and I for reasons that I won't go into at this point in time, and because of her my daughter didn't speak to me for several months. Needless to say, this woman is no longer my friend - she is only an acquaintance. At this point in time I can manage to be civil to her, but have difficulty being in the same room with her for more than short periods of time.

She is married to what I thought was a genuine gentleman - that is I thought so until today. Even though I no longer associate with this woman on a social level I considered her husband as a friend. He comes out here to visit with Ole, sits in my kitchen and has coffee, etc. He and I have had some serious conversations as to why I can't be friends with his wife anymore, and he SAID he understood. As he told me, I apparently wasn't the first person to have these issues with her.

This afternoon I had occasion to call Ole on his cell phone. When he answered I heard this "friend" in the background say, "Uh-oh. That must be the Wicked Witch of the West!" I'm sure he didn't realize that I could hear what he was saying. I was crushed that he would say that. I guess you never REALLY know what people think of you.

I became quite angry and told Ole to pass the word on that I had heard what he said that yes, this was the Wicked Witch of the West and then hung up, and started to cry. Immediately, the phone rang again - it was Ole, but I didn't answer. Then the phone rang again and it was the phone number of the house that Ole and this "friend" were at. I'm sure the lady of the house, who was participating in the conversation at the time was trying to make excuses, etc. I was in no mood to talk to her and didn't answer the phone that time either.

How would YOU have reacted to this incident? I'd truly like to know.

Love Lena

Back to routine

2010-08-24T12:44:00.003-05:00

You know, it's wonderful to go on vacation - but it's awfully nice to get back home and get into your normal routine again. That is - I will be back in my normal routine if I EVER finish my laundry!! My washer and dryer have been going non-stop since we got home last Friday. And to top that off, the first thing I had to do was call the repairman to fix my dryer!!

I knew it had a clunk that didn't belong there before we left, so the day before we got home I called "my man," told him we would be home on Friday morning and could he come and fix it. He was right there at exactly the time I told him we would be home and within 15 minutes he had that baby up and running again. I carried three weeks worth of clothing along on this trip because I didn't want to take the time and spend the money to go to a laundromat. So you can imagine what kind of clothes I've got piled up. But I am reaching the end and that last load is in the washer right now. Then it's to fold it all up and get it back out to the RV.

I did a very thorough job of 'dehairing' the inside of the rig, shampooing the carpeting and the furniture, along with washing all the throw rugs as we're having company over Labor Day weekend. In order to accomodate all the bodies so they have access to beds, at least one of them is going to have to sleep in the RV. So I didn't want any excess dog/cat hair in there. What a project, and those of you who have pets know you never get it all.

Anyway, in addition to all of that, there's three weeks worth of mail to sort through, most of which is junk mail and goes in the trash. That's got to be the only thing that's keeping the post office alive these days as 90% of our mail over the last three weeks ended up in File 13.

Then there was the lawn to mow - or should I say the hay to make. We've had so much rain over the summer that even though the grass should be slowing down at this time of the year - it's not. Ole spent 9 hours on the lawn mower the day after we got home and most of it's ready to be mowed again. That's saying nothing of the weeds that grew 6 feet while we were gone. Sometimes it makes you wonder if it's really worth going away to come back to all the work.

Most usually I enjoy our August trips, but I have to say this one was not one of my favorites. I guess because there were so many hassles prior to the trip what with Ole being hospitalized and not able to get around very well prior to our taking off. Then all the problems during our trip down to the Black Hills added just a wee bit more stress. Once we got there everything went fine with the exception of the weather - normally it's hot but dry - this time the humidity was just like we've had here at home. VERY STICKY - so there was no relief from that, which I was really looking forward to.

When we left the Black Hills we had intended to spend several days in Medora and the Badlands. I think I wrote about that previously. Well, that didn't happen either. We made one trip through the park, stopped at the gas station back in town to fill on gas an when Ole went to start the bike up again, it was stone cold dead. The battery pooped on us. Being there is no place in Medora to buy a battery we packed the bike up and headed for Dickinson, 60 miles away, where we were able to purchase a battery. Then we headed back to my old stomping grounds where we visited several of my cousins, etc., and then headed home.

Ole went for another bike ride yesterday and when he came home he informed me that this NEW battery is also dead - so there must be something wrong with the charging system on the bike. He'll look at that today to determine the problem. It's always something.

With all these negative things surrounding this trip something tells me that we weren't supposed to go on it. But we're home now - safe and sound and all in one piece, so I guess that's important too.

Gotta go check my laundry.

Love Lena

The End of Sturgis

2010-08-16T10:56:00.003-05:00

I know I haven't actually written much since we started this adventure, but you see, there's a reason for it. And it's all Ole's fault (good thing I've got somebody to blame, huh?) You see, Ole was put in charge of gathering the laptop computer and all the accessories that were needed and getting everything in the motorhome when we left home. Well, that didn't work so well. He remembered the wireless mouse, but completely forgot the keyboard. Yes, I know that a laptop has a keyboard, but I HATE the keyboard on a laptop. The touch is different, the placement of stuff is different and it's FLAT!! I make way too many mistakes typing on a laptop keyboard, so I just don't. But I'll try to make up for that today.

We said goodbye to our friends Karen & Dave and Jeff & Jerry and pulled out of Sturgis about noon yesterday. We landed in Medora, ND last night, home of the Marquis de Mores, the Teddy Roosevelt National Park and the Badlands.

The video that I put up yesterday was taken on Saturday night in Sturgis. The evening was quite interesting to say the least. There were two gangs in town, which happens very rarely. Not that gangs don't make their presence known, but usually only one at a time. There's some kind of an agreement that only one gang comes to town at a time and they each have their designated nights, apparently. But Saturday night both the Hells Angels and the Bandidos were in town. The Hell's Angels seemed to stick to one area, but the Bandidos were like mosquitoes and were buzzing around all up and down main street showing definite "attitudes." We didn't hang around too long after that and headed back to the campground.

All in all the 10 days in Sturgis was okay, although I've enjoyed myself more other years. The weather wasn't conducive to the best of riding this year. The heat and humidity was terrible until, of course, the day before we left. Then it became pleasant. We've been there other years when the temps were higher - 105, 107 - but lacking the humidity so it was much more pleasant. There were some issues with the concert venues and the traffic jams that they caused, which caused us to sit in "parking lots" for long periods of time - again, not pleasant, but hopefully that problem will be solved by next year.

Otherwise, it was nice to get away. But I must say that by the end of 10 days I was definitely ready to get away from all the traffic and noise to a quieter atmosphere. And that is just what Medora and the Badlands have.

I talked to Lovely Daughter this morning. She was checking on our house and was going to clean it for me so I'd have a clean house to come home to. Isn't that sweet of her? She also gave me a report on all my flowers - she said they're spectacular - so my watering system must be working.

That's all to report for now - other than we're planning a very lazy day. Maybe a bike ride through the park later in the day and supper at the Iron Horse Saloon - one of our favorite places in Medora. I'll tell you about that in a later post.

Love Lena
PS: REAL cowboys live here. They're bowlegged, dusty and wear 10-gallon hats.

The Bandidos Arrive

2010-08-15T22:46:00.001-05:00

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The Adventure Continues

2010-08-14T23:44:00.001-05:00

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

One Day at the Motorcycle Rally at OneTrueMedia.com

2010-08-12T23:00:00.001-05:00

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

People of Sturgis

2010-08-11T11:39:00.001-05:00

Here's a few of the "oddities" that we've seen over the last few days. Enjoy!!

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Daisy's new job

2010-08-09T09:41:00.004-05:00

Daisy has a new job. She needs things that make her feel important and like she's got a purpose. Her new job is herding Yorkies.

Dave and Karen travel with two Yorkies and a toy poodle. Mandy, the poodle, is 14 years old, doesn't hear well and has cataracts. The two Yorkies, Snuggles and Gidget are young yet, 1 year and 3 years respectively.

Now Gidget and Snuggles are two very busy little dogs, although they're very good about staying in their campsite. They're running around sniffing on every blade of grass and playing "hoover" under the table during meal time. When Daisy first comes out of the RV in the morning, of course the Yorkies are out of what she considers their range so she runs over there barking at them and quickly circles the wagons back to where they belong (in her mind.) The first time the Yorkies were terrified and immediately rolled over on their backs and quivered. Now they just look over their shoulder and you can see them saying, "Oh, it's just that crabby old bag again" before they run to their "assigned" territory.

After working so hard all day keeping these little guys where they belong comes a well-deserved rest.

Is this a spoiled dog, or what???

Love Lena

Another Day

2010-08-08T18:17:00.003-05:00

Another day of heat and high humidity- but we'll just tough it out and enjoy the Black Hills area. It's so beautiful and smells so fresh.

So we started out this morning making the climb up the grade to Deadwood where we had lunch at the VFW. Then it was over to Main Street for some shopping. I was done but Karen had a couple more items she wanted. All I wanted was a new battery for my watch that kept stopping. I went to every jewelry store on Main Street and none of them "did batteries." I wonder what the people in Deadwood do when their battery operated watches die? Good grief. So I decided I really didn't need to know what time it was anyway because I had nowhere to be at any specific time. That's the one good thing about being on a true vacation.

So as we headed back to the bikes we rounded a corner off the beaten track and there was a jewelry store - that "did batteries!" The jeweler brought out a chair for me to sit down and "rest my toosties" as he put it, and cool off. He offered me a bottle of water and then proceeded to change my battery. He was done in a flash and wished us well and to stay safe. All this for a $6 watch battery. I guess there are still some wonderful business people in this world who take pride in their customer service.

Then it was on down Highway 385 south - to Nemo Road, Vanocker Canyon and some beautiful scenery and wildlife.

It's hot and humid here again today so it was nice to get out of town and up into the cooler elevations.

Below is a picture of one of the many motorcycle parking lots in Deadwood. There are just a few bikes in town.

Sorry I don't have anything more exciting to report - but the peace and quiet is wonderful.

Love Lena

The next report

2010-08-08T09:29:00.006-05:00

Isn't it strange how you can actually forget what day it is when you're on vacation away from your regular routine? That's happened a number of times over the last few days - I've actually had to check with Ole and ask him what day it was. Sometimes he didn't know either. I guess that's when you know you're truly on vacation.

The only part of my regular routine that's left is the fact that Simon and Lucy (two kitties) still maintain their 6 a.m. vigil of wanting their breakfast. I swear they sit on the floor watching the clock tick by the minutes and the second it turns to 6 o'clock they come charging into the bedroom, jump on top of me and start parading up and down until I give in and get up to fill their dishes. Wonder why they can't go on vacation too!!

Yesterday we decided to go into Sturgis and get some serious shopping done before the big crowds arrive and everything gets picked over. One of the things these manufacturers need to remember is that not everyone wears a size 2 - which is what most of them seem to carry. Of course they look cuter on the hanger I'm sure than the size gigantous that I wear. So my friend, Karen, and I went in search of those gigantous sizes and were successful. I've got everything purchased that I intended and don't have to worry about that anymore. It was nice having room to move around in the vendors instead of having to push your way through and sometimes even having your items snatched right out of your hands because someone else thinks they need them worse than you do.

I've severely limited my shopping this year because I refuse to buy anything in a shop that's run by a bunch of Rag Heads. Sorry Folks, I know that's not politically correct, but too damn bad. After several of the experiences I have had down here dealing with these people I can't have any other opinion. Last year I even ended up going to the police about one of the vendors and was successful in having his license removed. But that's a story for another day.

I've been looking for a new leather motorcycle jacket and think I've finally found one. What drew me into the store was the sign hanging outside "made in America", Cleveland, Ohio, actually. Unfortunately, the jacket I fell in love with has to be custom made and will take about 6 weeks to get. I haven't decided yet if I want to wait that long, but to this point haven't seen anything else I like.

One of the interesting things about Sturgis is all the strange things you see on the street. It was SO HOT yesterday that I felt like one of those eggs that you fry on the sidewalk. I was sitting on the street bench waiting for my yolk to get solid when THIS came driving down the street. It was 92 degrees and he was in full leathers and a full face helmet and gloves. He stopped to pose for pictures and I swear I could see the sweat running out from under the helmet. To each his own I guess. I'm sure there will be more oddities that are much stranger as the week progresses.

I'm not sure what the plans for today are - it's cloudy and looks like it could rain. Maybe it will be a bit cooler then. In all the years we've been coming down here I can't ever remember it being this humid. Hot yes, but usually the humidity is quite low. This year it's just like back home - sweltering.

Love, Lena

Things are running more smoothly now

2010-08-07T08:36:00.002-05:00

Things finally straightened out yesterday once we got the power back on. There were no more leaks or floods to wipe up after and we knew that the A/C would run to keep the pets cool while we were gone.

Spent a couple of hours on main street yesterday. Here's a picture I got that's rather unique. Note the mouse on top of the cat on top of the sleeping dog.

I wonder how much training this took!!

Also, here's one of Daisy doing her job guarding the campsite. She's taken on the responsibility of announcing everyone that comes to our campsite, and once they're there, it's her job to protect them from any intruders.

Ole takes her on long walks twice a day and everyone is so enthralled with her and wants to meet her. She's been a perfect lady and is very gracious about meeting strangers. She's a wonderful traveler - we've traveled with her previously but have always had Beau along (the other shepherd currently living with Lovely Daughter). But this is her first time to Sturgis and we were a bit concerned how she would deal with all the noise and traffic. So far she's proven to be very adaptable.

We're headed for a ride down Spearfish Canyon this afternoon. More later

Love Lena

Let me introduce you to our friends

2010-08-06T09:31:00.004-05:00

We got to the campground this morning by 11:00, got all signed in and registered and drove back to our designated campsite - the one we've occupied for the last 8 years. Much to our surprise, Karen and Dave, our friends from AZ, were already there. They had arrived last night in the midst of a heavy rain storm. It was great to see them - visit and bit and then got busy getting things straightened out, etc.

Here's a picture of Karen and Dave, taken last year.

They're the ones who raised 11 children - 9 of whom were adopted, and of those 9 adopted children, 5 were from other countries. There were 9 girls and 2 boys. It's hilarious when Dave starts telling stories about traveling on vacations with 10 women - 9 daughters and his wife. Also when he tells stories about "raging hormones" all being cycled through at the same time of the month!! He should write a book.

Jeff & Jerry were also already here.

This is also a picture that was taken last year. Jeff & Jerry are father & son and run a very large farm - 6000 acres where they raise grain, corn and beef cattle. Jeff, in the black shirt, had a lap band installed last winter so he's now 150 pounds lighter. Apparently he's lucky to be alive though, as his body rejected it and he was quite ill for about six months. He's recovered now and doing well.

Today was a pretty low key day. About 2 o'clock Karen & Dave and Tony and I decided we'd ride to town and get some lunch. Then it was back to the campground where there was some serious relaxing and napping that took place, until we got up and ate some more - Karen had fixed a ham so we all stuffed ourselves AGAIN!!

I was going through some of my pictures from last year and came across this one that I just HAD to include. This was taken at the Full Throttle Saloon and just goes to show you what some folks will do to have fun!!

We're in the path of storms tonight - it's raining quite heavy right now and just dumped marble-sized hail on us for several minutes. Fortunately not as bad as last year when it hailed stones the size of baseballs. We had over $15,000 in damages done to our RV last year.

Our luck has got to change SOON!!

E.

We're on our way - but maybe we should have stayed home!!

2010-08-04T09:21:00.002-05:00

We're headed for Sturgis and points beyond. Yesterday was our first day out and it's not been without adventures. We finally got away from home about 3:30 on Tuesday. I guess we had a lot more things to complete than anticipated.

We were barely beyond Jamestown when Ole passed a semi on the interstate. As he pulled back into the right driving lane, out of what seemed like nowhere came a small white car passing us on the right - the shoulder of the road - honking and waving the middle finger at us. Where he came from we couldn't figure out as there was no car in front of the semi we passed when we pulled back into the right lane. Apparently he thought we were trying to run him off the road or something - although that certainly wasn't the plan. Anyway, he yelled at us that he was going to notify the highway patrol so we should expect to get stopped. We never saw a highway patrol so whether he actually reported us or not, I don't know.

All went well then until it started to get dark. By this time we had turned off the interstate at Glen Ullin and were headed south. I wanted to stop at the Shadehill Reservoir for the night, but that was not to be. Ole insisted we plug on and get as far as Faith,SD, another hour. The road, once you leave the interstate, is very rough and narrow and has no shoulder. The farmers have baled all the ditch hay and the ditches are full of the very large round hay bales. So if you hit the ditch you'll hit one of those big bales. We were flying along, over the hills and around the curves, when we topped a hill and there in the middle of the road sat a car - not moved off to the side at all. There was a piece of farm equipment, I think a hay baler, down in the ditch and a man seemed to be working on it. Fortunately he had his taillights on, but he had picked a very poor place to park. Ole dynamited the brakes, Daisy went flying off the davenport where she rides, all the things that were on the table went flying off and landed on Simon who was sleeping in the chair next to the table, even though I had the cabinets secured some of the doors flew open and everything came flying out. Anyway, it was a mess. Fortunately there was no oncoming traffic so Ole managed to squeak between the car and the opposite ditch. There was no way we could have stopped in time to not hit that car. I can't imagine what that farmer was thinking when he parked in the middle of his driving lane just over the rise of that hill.

After catching our breath - me still wishing that we'd stopped back at Shadehill - we continued on. About 30 miles out of Faith a big buck whitetail deer popped out of the ditch and we hit him dead center on the front of the RV. No warning - just splat. I heard all kinds of noises rolling around under the rig - not only dead bodies, but something metal also broke off and went flying. We managed to find a place to pull off to the side, Ole got out to inspect, expecting to find the front of the RV trashed but there wasn't a mark. He'll inspect more underneath this morning before we take off.

Finally got to Faith, and of course by that time the city park that allows camping was full so we had to park on the street. Can't put the jacks down in the street and we're parked on a hill that made we feel like I was falling out of bed all night long.

Hope things improve. At this point I'm wondering if we were just supposed to stay home and not go on this trip.

Love Lena

Really time for an update

2010-07-26T16:38:00.002-05:00

It's truly time for an update - sorry, Gang. I've been really lax so I deserve 20 lashes with a piece of lutefisk. Who volunteers?

Ole is doing so much better - just thought you would like to know that. He had a follow-up appointment with the infectious disease doc on Monday the 19th, and because the doc thought he still may have a bit of infection left in his leg he extended the consumption of Zyvox for another two weeks. Otherwise he thought Ole was doing very well and told him he could start riding his Harley again. This, of course, made Ole feel REALLY good - got to get in practice for the trip to Sturgis and the motorcycle rally. Seriously, the doc thought the movement and the riding would be good for the circulation in his leg and to help keep up the muscle strength.

Within days of the extension of the Zyvox the pain left his leg and he hasn't had to have one of those horrible pain pills for about five days. This is definitely a good sign because that means the infection has left the leg muscle. Unfortunately, the antibiotic is raising heck with his stomach - causing it to be sore and rolly - even though I make him eat things like yogurt and cheese and things that will coat his stomach a bit before he takes the meds. Neither of us want him to go off the Zyvox until the second 14 days are up for fear of the infection coming back. The sore tummy for a few more days is well worth the security of not getting MRSA back.

Yes - the final lab reports came back and that's what he had - MRSA. Go back and read my previous entry if you want details. It was ugly. I'm glad it's over and that he's on the mend.

Anyway - on to other things.

We had to be in town this morning by 11 o'clock. Drove out our driveway and this is what we found!!

How do we get out onto the highway? We had to drive through the ditch and then go straight up the side of the ditch and over a big dirt windrow. Good thing we had 4-wheel drive.

The highway in front of our house has been beaten to pieces over the years by all the big semis that travel down it to avoid the scales on the interstate. It was getting to the point of being dangerous to drive on it because it was so broken up. You didn't dare take a motorcycle over it due to the large holes, etc. So it's finally getting fixed but it will take until the end of October. That's a long time to deal with this kind of road construction.

Hopefully we'll be able to get the motorhome out next week when we want to take off.

Love you all,

Lena

Never want another July like this one!!

2010-07-18T13:53:00.007-05:00

It's been a Looooooong month of July and I don't ever want another one like it.

You remember that I wrote about Ole breaking/spraining his ankle way back the end of May. He hobbled around on crutches and removable casts and all such things for most of the month of June. About the end of June things were beginning to look up for him (and me) again when the last weekend in June he got sick with what we thought was the flu.

Guess again - it was another case of staph infection in his leg, just like he had two years ago. Only this time it was the other leg. We've got to have equal treatment, you know. And this time I thought we'd caught it early - the first day of redness and swelling - so it wouldn't be as difficult to cure as it was two years ago.

WRONG!! I hauled him into the ER on Sunday morning, waited 3 hours to see a doctor who admitted him to the hospital immediately. He had an ultrasound and an MRI, both came back positive. By the second day the infection disease doc had been called in. He was on IVs 24/7 and wasn't making any progress. Unfortunately, the ID doc was one of these folks that spoke so far over the heads of anybody else that you couldn't understand a word that he said.

After six days in the hospital he had made enough progress that the ID doc took him off the IVs and sent him home with an oral antibiotic - of all things - cephalaxin - a very broad spectrum drug used to treat minor infections.

Within 24 hours Ole started to go downhill so the next day it was back to the ER where he was again admitted immediately to the hospital. There was another round of ultrasound and another MRI, and the result was that the infection was starting to settle into the calf muscle in his leg and causing a tremendous amount of pain. Ole could hardly walk. The same ID doc came back to see him and after spending some time picking his brain I decided I needed a second opinion. This guy didn't want to give him anything more than cephalaxin, which hadn't worked.

To make a long story short we got a different ID doc who immediately put him on different, stronger drugs and Ole immediately started to improve. After questioning the 2nd ID doc, who had studied his MRI very thoroughly (the first one hadn't even looked at it) his diagnosis was that Ole had MRSA (Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus) which is a very difficult bacterial infection to treat, can infect both the muscles and bones and in some cases require amputation or can even cause death.

We sure didn't need that!!

Anyway, after another 6 days in the hospital he was sent home on a new drug called Zyvox which has worked wonders for him. He had a follow up appointment last Friday and the doc even told him he could start riding the Harley again. That was the best prescription of all.

Ole's been incapacitated all summer and it's beginning to get on his nerves. We had a vacation planned, scheduled to leave on the 20th of July, but we've postponed it now to somewhere around the 1st of August just to make sure that everything goes okay with his leg.

So neither of us has accomplished much this summer - except I've learned some really good nursing skills.

Love Lena

I Have Twins!!

2010-06-26T09:31:00.002-05:00

Yes - I have TWINS!! Now before you go shaking your finger at me and saying, "At YOUR age? Shame on you!" let me tell you all about it.

First of all, let me assure you that at MY age having twins is totally impossible. There. Got that cleared up.

A few days ago I was out trimming my Miss Kim lilac that sits at the corner of my house right by the garage door. Miss Kim is supposed to be one of those miniature lilac bushes but somebody forgot to tell that to this bush. This year it grew way out of bounds and was spectacular when it bloomed. So I hauled my electric trimmer out and was busily hacking away making the branches fly, standing back and admiring my work and then trimming some more. As I worked my way around to the front of the bush I took a swipe and as the branches fell away I just about choked - I had just missed cutting into a bird's nest by inches. Mama bird was of course not there - she must have flown away when I first started trimming at the back of the tree. As I gathered my courage and peered into the nest I saw four little blue eggs about the size of jelly beans. I carefully finished trimming the remainder of the bush, put my tools away and hoped that Mama bird would come back to her eggs.

I checked back several hours later and there she was sitting on her nest. Brave little thing. She is a chipping sparrow - a very hardy, dedicated mother bird. I've been checking back about twice a day and yesterday morning what should I find but two little gaping mouths waiting to have bugs poked into them. Mama was out hunting so I got a good look in the nest. Three of the eggs had hatched and unfortunately it looked like one hadn't made it as there was no movement. At that point there was still one egg to go. I checked again last night when she was off the nest and the unmoving baby had disappeared so I'm assuming she had pushed it out of the nest. Still one egg to go and two gaping mouths. It's amazing how wide those mouths can open. There's not much bird there - it's all beak.

I went out to check this morning and Mama is sitting on the nest so I'll have to check later. My greatest fear is that I had removed so much protection from the nest when I cut away the branches, and with all the bad weather and horrible heat that we've had lately it would affect the babies. So far that hasn't seemed to happen.

So anyway, don't send baby clothes - send bugs and worms!!

Love Lena

The Ya-Ya Sisterhood - We are Divine

2010-06-23T10:49:00.003-05:00

The Ya-Ya's met again yesterday - and as usual we had a great time. We're a group of gals who grew up in the same little town, started grade school together in a 2-room school and went all the way through high school together. Needless to say, being from a small community and attending high school in the Big City 10 miles from where we lived, we had our own little click. Upon graduating we all kind of went our separate ways - some off to college - some got married right away and started a family, some moved away to bigger things, etc.

Years later after our families were grown and gone, those who had moved away moved back and some are now divorced or widowed. Several years ago one of the gals decided we should all get together for a good visit because it had been years, so she made the contacts and we've been meeting on a monthly basis ever since. Here's a picture of the Ya-Ya's. There's normally six of us, but unfortunately the day this picture was taken one of the gals was missing.

Back row left to right: Gail, Chris and me. Front row left to right: Carol and Barb. Barb is a twin, and the gal that's missing, Donna, was also a twin. Unfortunately, both of their twin sisters, Bev and Doreen, have passed on due to cancer. We all still miss them and they are discussed frequently during our gatherings.

Anyway, yesterday turned out to be a special day for the Ya-Ya's - and I didn't bring my camera to document the date (slaps self on hand.) You know that Ole, he can be kind of a sneaky fellow at times. And yesterday he was up to his usual tricks. Barb's mother, Grace, who is 84 years young, always sits in front of us at church. So last Sunday Ole asked Grace for a date!! I was busy in the back of the church and I noticed that they were visiting, but had no idea that they were cooking something up. I left to meet the Ya-Ya's at about 3:45 yesterday, and all day long Ole kept asking me, "What time are you leaving again?" I didn't think anything of it, but little did I know - - - he had a "date" to pick Grace up at 4 o'clock.

So Ole hops in his 1929 Model A Ford with a rumble seat, pulls into Grace's driveway, walks up to the door to escort her to the car and off they go. All of us gals are deep in conversation over margaritas with chips and salsa when in strolls Ole with Grace on his arm. What a wonderful fun surprise. I think Grace had a good time surprising us - I know Ole did.

We had such a good time with her - asking her all kinds of questions about when she was young and about her young married life. It was great. It's especially fun because all these moms knew all of us gals as kids. There are two other mothers still living and it would be so fun to get them involved at some point also because they won't be with us forever.

Thanks to all the Ya-Ya Sisters and Mother Grace for a great day. Then I had to leave to go to a church meeting. That was quite an accomplishment after consuming three margaritas!!!!

Love you all, Lena

And then there's Cousin Milton

2010-06-17T14:39:00.003-05:00

I realized that I've only written in my blog twice this month and here it is the 17th of June already. Shame on me. The outside has been calling my name often and repeatedly and heaven knows there's plenty of work to do out there this year. With all the rain we've had it's difficult to get anything done outside but the grass and the weeds certainly love it and explode overnight on a regular basis, which makes it difficult to keep up with things. So I want you Folks to know how important you are to me as today I have chosen to write instead of going outside to my flowers. Besides it's really humid and unpleasant out today, so it wouldn't be any fun anyway.

A terrible storm blew through about 5:30 this morning - heavy rain causing street flooding, lots of wind with lightening and thunder. This, of course, brought Daisy to my side of the bed poking and whining and begging to get in bed. Good thing we have a king-sized bed because a 90-pound dog in the middle takes up a lot of space!!

Anyway, at 5:30 I lay there watching the lightening and listening to the thunder and thinking about various things. Cousin Milton was one of them that came to mind - where that came from I don't know - but you know how it is in the early morning hours when you're lying there awake.

So I decided I would tell you about Cousin Milton as he's a very unique person.

Milton is Ole's bachelor cousin who lives by himself out on the farm and rarely goes to town for anything. It's not that he's unsociable because he loves company and will talk your ear off when you come to visit, he just doesn't like the hustle and bustle of going to the little town 10 miles away where's there's all of a grocery store and a gas station. "Too much traffic," he says with a heavy Finish accent when you ask him about it.

Now Milton is a product of the sixties, just a few years older than Ole. He flunked first grade because he couldn't speak English. After mastering the English language at the fine age of six he sailed through the remainder of school and graduated with honors. He was a smart guy, and according to Ole, taught him "everything he knows!" When I heard that I looked on with great trepidation, and rightfully so because I think he was referring to smoking and drinking beer!! After I got to know Cousin Milton I realized how full of practical jokes he could be.

I was 17 the first time I met Cousin Milton. He struck me as a very handsome young man with a head of very thick blond hair and bright blue eyes. He spoke with a heavy Finnish accent, carryover from his younger days because only Finnish was spoken at home. By this time Milton was out of high school and helping his dad farm. But it just wasn't what he wanted so he and a good buddy decided they were going to go to The Cities (that's what Minneapolis and St. Paul are called back here in the far northern outlands of Minnesota.) Milton and Buddy Tommy drove down to the big city, managed to rent an apartment and find jobs. Tommy was able to stick it out for a couple of years before he returned home to the farm, but Cousin Milton only lasted three weeks. "Too much traffic and too many crazy people," he said in his heavy accent when he arrived home. So he settled down back on the farm and proceeded to involve himself with a girlfriend.

Now one thing you need to know about Cousin Milton is how cheap (oops - was that my out loud voice?) FRUGAL he is. Now the area that Cousin Milton lives in is called the Lakes Area of Minnesota. We're noted for having 10,000 lakes you know. Back in the days when Ole and I were first dating and Milton was involved with his girlfriend, Friday and Saturday night always involved an evening spent at the local roadhouse. The one down the road from the farm was on the edge of the lake and was just a small little three-two joint with a dance hall attached. For my younger readers that meant the bar only served 3.2 beer and setups. Setups are glasses of pop (soda) that you could pour your own alcohol into because the bar didn't have a liquor license. So you'd bring your own beverage of choice, add it to the glass and proceed to get schnockered!! At least some folks did. There was a $1 cover charge at the door because The Melody Boys were playing in the dance hall. The Melody Boys consisted of an accordion, a guitar and a set of drums. Boy, could they crank out all the old waltzes, polkas and schottisches.

Now Ole and I, and the rest of his cousins always got to the roadhouse in time to get a booth to sit in. This meant we had to pay the $1 cover charge. This was back in the days when EVERYBODY smoked, Ole included, so you can imagine that by 10 o'clock the air inside the place was pretty gray, but we danced on anyway. This little place didn't have any air conditioning so all the windows were wide open. Anybody who has spent a summer in Minnesota realizes that the summer nights can be quite warm and sweltering so big box fans were placed in a couple of the windows to move the air and the smoke. Back to Cousin Milton, his date and his frugal personality: He would pick her up early in the evening, bring her to the roadhouse and they would stand outside looking in the windows until the cover charge went off at 10 o'clock because he was too cheap to pay the two bucks to get in! Then he would make his way to our booth/s and spend the rest of the evening nipping from our liquor bottles because he was too cheap to buy his own. If I remember correctly, he even made his date buy her own setups!! I can't believe she dated him for almost two years. She was a pretty girl, too, so it couldn't have been that she was hard up for a date. But I guess people do funny things for love.
She finally pressed him about marriage, and that's when he dropped her. Must have been to expensive or something.

Anyway, he had a few girlfriends off and on over the years and then something happened that he swore off women.

There have been lots of other things that make up Cousin Milton's interesting personality, but this entry is getting long so I'll only tell you about a couple more.

When Milton was in high school he wore glasses - the Buddy Holly kind of glasses - you know - the kind of almost square ones with black frames. Over the years he of course had his prescription changed and changed frames along with them. The old glasses got stuck in a drawer somewhere, but were never thrown away. One day a few years ago when Ole and I went to visit him he had dug out his Buddy Holly glasses because his good ones had broken. I looked at him and I had all I could do to keep from laughing. He had a piece of tape wrapped around the bridge of the glasses to hold them in place, one lense was cracked, and he had a bandaid on his nose because the pads that sit on your nose were missing. "This is just till I get to town to get a new pair," he said in his heavy accent. A year later he was still wearing the same glasses and when I asked him why he hadn't been to town to get new ones he said, "There's too much traffic and too many crazy people." The town where he would have to go to get new glasses has a population of about 3000 people!! Nothing that would exactly cause traffic jams, do you think?

Then there's the kitchen floor: When the house was built back in the 70s sheet vinyl was installed in the kitchen by an amateur. There is a seam that runs right through the middle of the floor and after a few years it started to come apart and roll up at the edges causing people to catch their toes and trip. Cousin Milton solved this problem without much of a cash outlay - just the price of a package of thumb tacks. You guessed it - there is a row of thumb tacks on each side of the seam and they've been there for many years!!

There's so much more I could tell you - about how he parks his tractor on an incline in order to start it because he doesn't have a battery in it. How he only uses used welding rods that are 6 inches short or shorter because he doesn't want to waste them. How his welding helmet doesn't have a band on the back of it so that you have to hold it up with one hand and try to weld with the other (info from Ole). How his garage roof has a hole in it so that it rains and snows inside the garage so he covers his car up with a big piece of plastic so it doesn't get wet. Mind you the car hasn't been driven for 30-some years.

But he really is a wonderful person. He's kind with a very positive attitude and always happy. Which just goes to show that you don't need a lot of "stuff" to be happy.

Love Lean

Yet ANOTHER History Lesson? AACCKK!!

2010-06-09T10:45:00.003-05:00

I had a story planned for today about my very first car, a little Nash Rambler that sounded like a sewing machine when it went down the road. But for some reason I keep getting an error message on Blogger when I try to upload pictures today, and the story about my little Nash Rambler just wouldn't get any good without pictures so I'll save that for another day.

They always say that when you get old you live in the past. Well, I guess I'm getting old although I hate to admit it. But the real reason for giving you another history lesson is that I don't have anything interesting going on in my life right now to write about. So if you get bored, just click on the little X in the upper right corner of your screen, okay?

I met Ole when I was a senior in high school in our first hour study hall. He sat toward the front and I sat about mid-way back. He was tall and slim with a mass of dark hair that he combed like Fonzie on Happy Days. Every morning during the Pledge of Allegiance he would turn around and give me a big smile. One day before classes started he asked me to go to the library with him, which was one of our options instead of going to study hall.

This time was supposed to be used for studying but of course, THAT didn’t’ happen when we were able to sit next to each other. There was a lot of whispering and note writing and hand holding that went on during that time, but not a lot of studying. Imagine that!! Ole would slide his chair right up next to mine, and periodically, the librarian would come over and slide them back apart. He would never say anything, just move the chairs apart (snicker). Years later we ran into him and the first thing he exclaimed was that he was glad we had gotten married and then chuckled. He was a good egg.

Ole and I always sat on the far end of the room from the flag, so that when everyone stood to say the Pledge of Allegiance they were all facing away from us. Imagine my surprise during this time when he turned and gave me a great big smack on the lips!! Right there in the library – everyone standing with their back to us, hands over their hearts and Ole is kissing me!! That Ole was a conniving young man, all right.

I asked him to the Sadie Hawkins dance that fall, and from then on we were an item. He was driving a 1949 Ford at that time, which was his pride and joy. Even way back then he was into cars – building, painting, and being “cool.” It was dark blue and had loud pipes. It was pretty impressive.

January came, and it was time for the Winter Snowball dance at school. All the girls had been shopping for dresses, or making their own. The song “She Wore Blue Velvet” was popular at that time, so I worked for weeks and sewed my own blue velvet gown. The week before the dance somebody ran into Ole’s ’49 Ford – hit and run when it was parked in the street in front of his house – it was no longer drivable. So Ole asked his dad if he could borrow his car for that night – but the answer was no. Ole’s dad was a mean boozer, and did anything/everything he could in his lifetime to alienate his kids. Ole had another car that ran, a 1954 Ford, but it didn’t have a heater – it had been completely removed at some point for parts I suppose. So the night of the dance came, and of course in January it was way below zero. Ole drove the ten miles to my house to pick me up and we started back to town for the dance. It was windy that night with blowing snow and we were getting pretty cold in this car without a heater. All of a sudden the hood flew up – over the windshield putting a crack in it, and landed in the middle of the highway behind us. Unfortunately there was a big truck oncoming in the other lane, and before Ole could get out and get the hood picked off the middle of the highway the truck hit it and it was flat as a pancake.

Well, that took care of what little engine heat had managed to get into the car – and from there on it was Icicle City. I distinctly remember when he brought me home that night it was 35 degrees below zero. My Dad was up waiting for us and was very adamant about Ole spending the night at our house because it was too cold to drive back to town in a car without a heater. But Ole wouldn’t do it and headed for home. Fortunately he made it because temperatures like that are very life threatening.

Then in the spring came the Prom. Back then it was ritual for couples to stay out all night following the Prom. There were no organized functions after the Prom – just house parties. Of course I informed my parents I wouldn’t be home until morning, as I had always had a curfew and abided by it (goody-two-shoes, ya know?) Even though they knew I wouldn’t be home until morning I can still remember how guilty I felt when I walked in the door just as the sun was coming up and my Dad was sitting at the table having coffee. Why did I feel that way? I couldn’t tell you – because I hadn’t done anything wrong. Just my ScandiHOOvian upbringing, I guess.

Then there was the night we double-dated with Vickie and her boyfriend, Roger. Ole had his sources and was able to score on a 12-pack of Buckhorn beer. Buckhorn was $1 a 6-pac back then. And it tasted like it too – but then I’ve never been much of a beer connoisseur so what did I know? But I drank it because it was the cool thing to do. We were parked on a country road one cold winter night, and of course after consuming a couple of Buckhorns, Vickie and I had to go to the bathroom. Well, obviously there’s no facilities on a country gravel road and we couldn’t make it back to town, so we opted to get out and go behind the car. The guys promised they would be good – ya, sure. Now Ole had dual exhausts on his car, and just as Vickie and I got into “position” what should he do but gun the engine!! I had squatted off to one side, but Vickie was right in front of one of the pipes – and after the engine had been idling for a while moisture had collected in the exhaust pipe. So when Ole gunned the engine Vickie got sprayed with cold water right on her bare backside. In her shock she went flying away from the back of the car right in mid-pee!! Ole still roars when he talks about that night.

What a conniver that Ole was.

There’s more – but this is getting long so I’ll save it for another day. And besides, Lovely Daughter reads here so I don’t want to expose TOO MUCH of my past (snicker). Hi, Lovely Daughter!!!

Love, Lena

Animal Experiences or should I say Adventures

2010-06-04T09:38:00.008-05:00

It was 4:30 a.m. this morning and the eastern sky was just beginning to get light. I know this because some of my bedroom windows face east. Because we live in the country and our closest neighbor is a half mile away I don't close my drapes because I love the sunshine in my windows in the morning. Also, it was such a beautiful night last night that we slept with the windows wide open. All that fresh air is so wonderful.

One more thing - we have three very large blue spruce trees situated at that corner of our house. These trees have made wonderful nesting for the last several years for a pair of mourning doves that return every year. Did you know that mourning doves mate for life? You gotta give that ole male dove a lot of credit for sticking with the same girl dove forever (chuckle). Anyway, I figured they must either have an egg or two in their nest or were in the process of making that egg because as it began to get light this morning they started their "cooing." Right outside my bedroom window.

By 5 o'clock it was light and I knew I wasn't going to go back to sleep so I grabbed my camera. I stepped out of the house in my slippers and jammies (it was still chilly - 46 degrees) into the wet grass and tried to sneak over to the spruce trees. Here's what I found. Isn't she pretty? And I'm sure she's going to be a wonderful mother. Unfortunately I can't see this nest from my bedroom window so I'll have to sneak around every once in awhile to keep track of the happenings in the Dove Home.

Then - yesterday as I was working outside trying to pull the weeds that are thriving in my flower beds I got buzzed. And buzzed again. We must have had a half dozen humming birds that took possession of my back yard. They love my trumpet vine and spent a lot of time investigating that. Unfortunately, I didn't see any male hummers - just females. I thought that was kind of strange.

They visit every morning about nine and again in the afternoon about five or six o'clock. I wonder where they go in between those times?

I have an orchid cactus that has put on a particularly spectacular display this year. I have it outside right now and the hummers absolutely love it. The bright red flowers are about as big as my hand and each flower drips honeydew faster than the hummers can keep up with it. So that's a BIG attraction in my back yard.

June is also Turtle Time on the Ole and Lena Ranch. Our yard becomes a freeway of traffic consisting of mama mud turtles coming up from the river, digging holes and laying their eggs, then wandering back down to the river leaving their eggs for someone else to take care of. We're used to seeing all kinds of muddy, sludgy spots in our yard where the turtles have made their deposit, but the strangest location was on the concrete floor in our screen room. I went into the screen room to clean several days ago and there in the middle of the floor on a fluffy rug were deposited 5 rubbery turtle eggs. Mama must have gotten confused in her travels or just couldn't wait and had to drop her load right then and there.

Now what is a person supposed to do with a clutch of turtle eggs? I couldn't leave them there and didn't plan to babysit them until they hatched, so I gently carried them down to the river bank where the dirt was softer, dug a shallow hole and buried them. There. I've done my good deed for the day. Just don't call me grandma to a bunch of baby turtles or I might have to hit you!!!

Talking about good deeds - Ole and I completed another one a couple of days ago. As you know, we're both animal lovers. Can't stand to see an animal hurt or lost. We were headed into town the other night about 5:30 p.m. and noticed this little black dog running down the railroad track - headed south towards the river. We both noticed it, commented on it and didn't think much more about it other than it was strange. The little guy looked like he knew where he was going - but then who knows.

Later that evening when we arrived back home about 9:30 both my cats, Simon and Lucy were out on the deck - arched backs, tails fluffed up and growling. We've had a stray tom cat hanging around and at first I thought they had him cornered. I looked again and there hiding behind the grille was the little black dog shivering and shaking, terrified of these two cats. I immediately went over and picked him up and he snuggled right up under my chin, relieved I'm sure that these two cats weren't going to attack him. Both cats are bigger than he was. Fortunately the little dog had tags on, although they were so worn they were extremely difficult to read. We finally made out a last name, looked it up in the phone book and made the phone call. It was an older couple that came to pick up their little guy, so grateful that someone had found him. They offered money, which we immediately declined and suggested they spend it to buy a new name tag for the little guy.

We both slept good that night.

Daisy went to the beauty parlor yesterday. I think she came home 5 pounds lighter and so soft she feels like silk. German Shepherds are notorious for shedding and she certainly does her share. Ole said he had to PRY her out of the truck when he dropped her off, and when we picked her up she came running and tried to jump in his arms. She's 90 lbs. and just a bit on the large side to be a lap dog. But I guess she can always try.

Love you all,

Lena

In the Words of Maxine - - -

2010-05-22T13:13:00.004-05:00

I don't usually get "political" in my blog - I've learned my lesson in the past. It seems that although everyone SAYS a blog is a place you can express yourself and say what you want to say - if you truly do that you can get crucified. But every once in awhile something comes across my desk that I feel very strongly about and feel that it's worth sharing. Maybe you have seen this before and maybe you haven't. If you have read it previously, it's worth another read as a good reminder. If you haven't read it before take it to heart and read the wisdom within. These are the words of Maxine - you know - the old gal from Hallmark? And with the current state of political affairs in the United States it's a good lesson that our politicians should take to heart.

I bought a bird feeder. I hung it on my back porch and filled it with seed. What a beauty of a bird feeder it was, as I filled it lovingly with seed. Within a week we had hundreds of birds taking advantage of the continuous flow of free and easily accessible food.

But then the birds started building nests in the boards of the patio, above the table, and next to the barbecue.

Then came the poop. It was everywhere: on the patio tile, the chairs, the table .. Everywhere!

Then some of the birds turned mean. They would dive bomb me and try to peck me even though I had fed them out of my own pocket.

And others birds were boisterous and loud. They sat on the feeder and squawked and screamed at all hours of the day and night and demanded that I fill it when it got low on food.

After a while, I couldn't even sit on my own back porch anymore. So I took down the bird feeder and in three days the birds were gone. I cleaned up their mess and took down the many nests they had built all over the patio.

Soon, the back yard was like it used to be .... Quiet, serene....
And no one demanding their rights to a free meal.

Now let's see. Our government gives out free food, subsidized housing, free medical care and free education, and allows anyone
born here to be an automatic citizen.

Then the illegal's came by the tens of thousands. Suddenly our taxes went up to pay for free services; small apartments are housing 5 families; you have to wait 6 hours to be seen by an emergency room doctor; your child's second grade class is behind other schools because over half the class doesn't speak English.

Corn Flakes now come in a bilingual box; I have to 'press one ' to hear my bank talk to me in English, and people waving flags other
than 'Old Glory' are squawking and screaming in the streets, demanding more rights and free liberties.

Just my opinion, but maybe it's time for the government to take down the bird feeder.

If you agree, pass it on; if not, just continue cleaning up the poop.

Well, I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of cleaning up the poop. So what's your opinion? I'd love to hear it.

Love, Lena

Red Necks, White Socks & Blue Ribbon Beer

2010-05-16T12:05:00.003-05:00

Now many of you who have read my blog know that I live in the Far Nort'land - where we have to wear mukluks in the winter to keep from getting frostbite on our toes, and in the summer we have to tie our children to concrete blocks to keep the mosquitoes from flying away with them. The area that I live in has been noted in many geographical studies as the worst place to live in the entire United States - weatherwise, that is. I certainly don't argue that point. But the one thing we do have here is good people. They're generally pretty friendly, always willing to help if you need it, and are good at looking out for one another.

One of the unique things in this area is that I think everybody is related - you know the type - third cousin twice removed or something like that. Most of the local residents can trace their families back about 4 or 5 generations to the point in time when this area was settled and the interesting fact is that the original settlers all came from the same place and were probably related back in the Old Country. Believe me, this makes for a unique community. So today I'm going to tell you about my little village.

First of all, Ole and I are imports. We don't have the long family history that everyone else does in the area as both of our families came from other locations. So watching the dynamics of some of the happenings in our village can get quite entertaining. Every little town has some interesting characters and some interesting businesses with stories about how they came to be.

The "centerpiece" business in our little town is, unfortunately, a bar called the Crowbar. It's seems to be somewhat "famous" or "infamous" depending on how you want to look at it. The Crowbar was originally built back in the 1906 as the bank in our little town. It's a fortress-like brick building with walls about 12 inches thick and originally measured about 20 x 24. Not very big. Here's the Crowbar BEFORE:

It closed in 1929 when many businesses failed and was sold in 1937 to a local couple who decided to open it as a tavern. It had a number of owners over the years and in 1974 was remodeled and the "back room" was added. It's now about four times its original size. Here's the Crowbar TODAY although you can't see the addition:

Now you know that a place like this has its local characters! Those that "own their own barstool" so to speak. The first one that comes to mind is a guy by the name of Budzo. In his 40s, not married and never has been. In fact I don't think he's ever even had a girlfriend and still lives at home with Mom and Dad. Before he opens his mouth and inserts alcohol, he is the quietest, meekest man you have ever met, and if a female says anything to him he blushes to the color of a stop sign. Now once the first beer has gone down the red fades to pink, and from then on doesn't appear anymore. By about the fourth beer Budzo is in full swing, conversing in "yell tone," laughing - no - guffawing at anything that is said, and dancing around the bar with his bottle in his hand considering himself to be the funniest thing on two feet. One night several winters ago his buddy, Charlie, took his keys away from him because Budzo was in no shape to drive home. Home is only four miles away on back country roads. Budzo got really upset, decided he was going go SHOW his buddy and decided to walk home. Charlie, being a bit more sensible but not being able to walk much better than Budzo, tried to get Budzo in his truck to give him a ride, but Budzo refused - he was going to walk. So he started down the snow-packed road with temps way below zero with Charlie following alongside in his pickup. Budzo took his share of spills from slipping on the snow, and eventually tumbled into the ditch in the deep snow and couldn't get out. Fortunately, Charlie was there to pull him out - otherwise Budzo probably would have frozen to death.

Speaking of ditches - we have pretty deep ditches in this part of the world. And our country gravel roads are built up quite high so that the snow will blow off them in the winter instead of piling up and blocking the road. The ditches are deep because there's a lot of water runoff in the spring from all the melting snow. Believe me, you don't want to go in the ditch in the spring for any reason because you WILL drown.

One night Budzo and Charlie were out joyriding in Charlie's 4-wheel drive pickup. This was in the spring of the year, about the end of March I think. The snow had been melting, and as it melts the water seeps under the snow running off into the ditches gradually filling them up because the culverts aren't open yet for the water to flow. Now having grown up here, Charlie and Budzo should have known better, but I think it had something to do with the 12-pack of Miller Lite that was sitting between them on the seat. There always seems to be some kind of a contest around here with the Locals to see who's got the BEST 4-wheel drive truck. Can you see the handwriting on the wall? Budzo "dared" Charlie, and then he "double dog dared" him and away they went - the challenge was to get through the ditch and out into the muddy field to do some "doughnuts" just to see how far he could get. Offroading, if you will. Well, Charlie gunned it - aimed for the ditch - broke through the snow and ended up spinning all four of his tires down in the bottom of the ditch with cold, icy snow water coming in the cracks of his doors and around his windows. Fortunately they landed wheels down, cab side up and managed to get the doors open and get out. They walked the mile or so to the Crowbar, wet to their waist, to get somebody to come and pull them out. Oh yes, they managed to save the beer. All in all, Budzo and Charlie can be quite entertaining on a good night.

Now we've got another young man (Young Fitz) who is third generation owner of a local gravel pit. Grandpa Fitz was also heavily involved in city politics for many years and had his little "groupies" that would say yes to anything he wanted. In other words, he "owned" the town, or thought he did. This attitude followed through to his son, (Dad Fitz) and on to his grandson (Young Fitz). It didn't make any difference if it benefited the town or not, if it benefited the Fitz's, then it was good. Grandpa Fitz would drive down the main street in his truck, decide he needed to stop at the local watering hole, stop his car in the middle of the street, open the door and not shut it, and walk into the bar and sit there for the afternoon. In the meantime his truck would remain in the middle of the street, door open, engine idling, and if you came down the street you better drive AROUND his truck, because it wasn't moving. Grandpa Fitz is long gone, but Dad Fitz does the same thing as does Young Fitz. And you better not say anything to them beause they have "the right." It becomes very interesting at this time of year when the big sugar beet trucks come down main street and try to get around the Fitz pickup with the doors hanging open!!

Then there's Howie, who at one time ran the local cafe along with a furnace and A/C repair shop. Howie had been a cook in the Army so he could fry a pretty mean burger with onions. He also had his local "following," of which my father was one. There was a certain group of men that would go to the cafe every morning for coffee and doughnuts. If Howie was out on a furnace call, you just helped yourself and left the money on the counter. The guys made their own coffee if the pot ran dry, bussed their own tables, and even fried their own hamburgers and onions if it was lunch time. Every morning my Father would go downtown under the ruse of "getting the mail." But somehow there was always a stop at the cafe for coffee and doughnuts, and several hours later he would arrive home with the mail and all the latest gossip. My Mother often said that she didn't have to talk on the phone with anyone to find out what was going on - the cafe guys always knew the latest goings-on. My Father would always imbibe on one of Howie's rolls, much to the chagrin of my Mother because my Father was diabetic and all the sweets were a real no-no. Howie ran the restaurant in this manner for many years until he decided to retire and sold out to an "outsider."

The new guy - I think his name was Marvin - an unmarried guy, took over and it wasn't long before he had all the ladies of the town entertained. The guys quit going to the cafe for coffee because there were "hints" that Marvin was of "another persuasion." Marvin started throwing card parties for the ladies several afternoons a week, bingo one afternoon, you get the idea. It wasn't long before Marvin proved he was NOT of "another persuasion" and ran off with the bus driver's wife to parts unknown, never to be heard of again. I think the bank foreclosed on the cafe and it never opened again.

Then, a number of years ago, there was something called The 100 Club. This was kind of a hush-hush deal - but like all other hush-hush deals - everybody knew about it but nobody talked about it, at least openly. Once a month The 100 Club would hold a "social" in the community center. There was a live band, food and set-ups because you had to BYOB. When you entered the door the guys threw their car keys into a basket. At the end of the evening there was a drawing - get the jist? It was called The 100 Club because there were 50 couples that paid their membership dues; membership was by invitation only. You had to be "approved" by the Board. Ole chuckles when he thinks about it - he says there's an entire generation of folks running around this community who KNOW who their mothers are, but aren't real sure who their fathers are!! Oh, what a little Peyton Place we had.

Well, I think that's enough for today.

Love, Lena

Daisy's Diet Thoughts

2010-05-08T09:30:00.003-05:00

Hi to all you friends of my Grandma Lena,

Daisy here. I'm taking over this blog today because I just want to blow off a little steam and let all of you to know what I think of this dumb diet stuff. After my visit with Dr. Green yesterday, stepping on the scale and weighing in at 97.8 lbs., and having to listen to Dr. Green tell me that I have to cut back because I'm not the svelte little gal I used to be - well, I found that rather insulting.

And then to come home and have Grandma tell Grandpa that he can't give me anymore treats - well, how disgusting. What am I supposed to live on anyway.

So last night when Grandma fed me - she thinks she's in control now because Grandpa is on crutches so she has to feed me - she had the audacity to put only plain dry dog food in my bowl. No gravy, no meat tidbits, nothing good - just that plain old dry Iams dog food. I showed her - I turned up my nose and walked away, went to the corner where I sleep and put a very pouty look on my face. I'll show her, I thought, I just won't eat my supper.

So later on in the night I truly did get hungry and decided I needed to sneak out to the kitchen and do a bit of foraging. Ah ha!! Grandma forgot to put the trash can in the closet where she normally keeps it and there just happened to be the wrapper from a package of hamburger in there. Now I normally wouldn't stoop to getting into the trash. That's just beneath a dog of my quality. But I must admit that hamburger wrapper tasted pretty darn good when I licked the last molecule from the Styrofoam tray. Then I placed it in the middle of the floor so I was sure that she'd see it in the morning when she got up to make coffee.

Well, that sufficed for a bit, but it still didn't fill the hollow spot. And I'll be darned if I'm going to stoop to eating that dry dog food that was still in my bowl. As I walked through the kitchen I just happened to walk by the cat food bowls. Senior Citizen Simon only eats canned cat food because he doesn't have any teeth anymore and needs something soft to eat. What a find!! Cat food pate' - delicious. There wasn't much in there, but I licked the bowl so clean it doesn't even need to go in the dishwasher. Then I carried the dish to the corner of the dining room and carefully placed it beside the china hutch where I thought she wouldn't find it.

Still hungry - more foraging - and another good find. As I said before, dry food without any goodies on it just isn't my forte', but dry cat food goes down very well. Grandma uses a self-feeder for Lucy so there stood a feeder that was half full of delicious cat food which I've been told is a very big no-no for dogs. (Too fattening they say.) Well, here's too ya', Lucy - to bad you'll have to starve for the remainder of the night. Man, was that good. Now I could go back to the bedroom and fall asleep because I knew I had used up all sources of nourishment with the exception of that darn dry dog food in my bowl. Ick!!

I fixed Grandma really good, last night. I went back to the bedroom, fell asleep on the floor on her side of the bed and proceeded to let the cat food work. Somewhere along about 3 or 4 o'clock the methane gas exploded and my tummy felt better - not so bloated. I lucked out - Grandma blamed it all on Grandpa - the methane explosion that is - and I just opened one eye and looked at her in pure innocence.

It wasn't until she got up to make coffee this morning and discovered the empty cat food dishes that I got a lecture. But that's okay - it was worth it. Cat food is the very best.

Wonder how she plans to get around THIS one!!

Love to you all from Daisy

Daisy has to Diet

2010-05-07T11:22:00.003-05:00

Daisy had her dog doctor appointment this morning. She was NOT a happy camper. First of all, Ole is the one that usually takes her to her appointments. This morning he decided he needed to stay home with his foot up. He told me that he just MAY have overdone it yesterday with mowing the grass as his foot "kind of" hurt this morning. Duh!!!

So Daisy and I went down the road to the dog doctor's clinic. When I got there and opened the hatch to the Expedition she crawled from the "way back" to the back seat and lay down. There was NO WAY she was going to get out of that car and go into the clinic - not with me or with anybody - I think even Ole would have had to convince her to jump out.

Of course the first thing they do is the most humiliating thing - put her on the scale. How dreadful - she has gained 7 pounds over the winter. She's up to 97.8 lbs. now, which is way too much for a German Shepherd of her size. She's gotten chubby around the neck to the point where Ole had to loosen her collar, and she's having trouble jumping into the back of both my Expedition and Ole's truck. I know that some of that can be contributed to age (she's 9), but all the extra weight doesn't help either.

Now Ole always sees that Daisy is well fed every night. I told him that Dr. Green needed to lecture HIM instead of Daisy. Ole always adds extra goodies to her dog food - leftover gravy, meat scraps, etc. It's gotten to the point now that if we don't have any goodies to put on her dog food she thinks she's being punished and won't touch the dog food. Yup - sticks her nose in the air and walks away. Last time we fed her just plain dog food it took two days before she finally got hungry enough to eat it.

So it's not really Daisy's fault that she's chubby - it's Ole's. We take her for a run in the country every night, rain or shine, and she usually goes about 2 miles. Good exercise for her joints, etc.

Just goes to show that even if you're a canine, you can't get away with being chubby. Darn anyway. Now I've got to diet along with Daisy.

Love, Lena

Good News for a Change

2010-05-06T16:33:00.003-05:00

Ole had his appointment with the bone doctor today (orthopedic surgeon). I LOVE this man. He saw Ole about 15 years ago for a couple of herniated discs, he's the one that did my hip surgery, and today, after looking very carefully at Ole's x-ray of his ankle and examining him physically, he pronounced that Ole did not have a broken ankle but a badly stretched ligament. Apparently what the ER doc saw was the shadows of an old motorcycle injury from 1986 when Ole crushed his leg riding dirt bike in the desert.

So he put Ole in a removable cast and told him that he could put as much weight on it as he felt comfortable with. He's to go back in three weeks when the swelling is down and he'll get a smaller cast for a few more weeks and then (hopefully) be almost as good as new.

Of course Ole thinks this is a license for him to go back to full bore on everything, and after taking a couple of pain pills he climbed on the lawnmower and is currently cutting the grass. I told him I didn't want him to do that and that I was perfectly capable of driving the lawnmower. But that didn't fly - he said a week of sitting on his duff doing nothing has driven him crazy and he had to accomplish something. I guess you can't keep a good Finlander down.

We're going to celebrate really big tonight. It's our 43rd anniversary today. Forty-three years ago it snowed on our wedding day - great big huge fluffy flakes. We currently have a forecast of an inch of heavy wet snow for tonight. So, as I said, we decided to celebrate tonight and when we were in town this afternoon, stopped at Cold Stone Creamery and bought a half gallon of peanut butter chocolate ice cream and I had them mix in butterfinger chunks. We'll go over to our friends this evening after dinner and pig out. We're really hot patooties when it comes to being party animals, don't you think? I just told Ole that I had to be home at a reasonable time because my bedtime is 9 o'clock!!

I guess I don't have any other news. So I'm going to pour myself a bit of an anniversary cocktail and go sit on my deck swing and watch Ole mow the grass in the backyard. Doesn't that sound exciting?

Love you all,

Lena

This Norwegian Lutheran Thing - it's all about guilt

2010-05-04T19:28:00.003-05:00

My mother did a fantastic job of raising me to feel guilty about everything. When I was little it didn't matter how hard I tried, I always managed to feel guilty about everything that went wrong in my entire family's life. And I haven't outgrown that - try as I might. I always feel that everything negative that happens is somehow my fault.

Now we have Ole's injury - he was doing me a favor by carrying a basket of newspaper down the steps into the garage to put them into my car so I could haul them to the recycling place. He missed the last step, stepped on my garden shoe that was on the garage floor at the bottom of the step, turned his ankle and down he went.

I felt awful right then and there. If I hadn't left that garden clog there none of this would have happened. If he had decided to go to the gym that morning instead of staying home to help me out none of this would have happened. If I hadn't been insistant about getting all the old newspapers out of the house that morning none of this would have happened.

When we were finally in the car he called the ER to find out if he should go to the Emergency Room or the Walk-in Clinic. I guess it didn't help my emotional situation when he explained to the nurse that his wife had set a booby trip for him and caught him. Like I left my shoe there on purpose. I know it's a bad habit - but I truly didn't leave it there on purpose. And the thing is - these medical people take all of this stuff seriously - it's not a joke to them.

I've tried to look at the funny side of things over the last few days when people have asked him what happened. I've tried to make jokes and made statements like "After 43 years of marriage I couldn't take it anymore and just kicked him in the ankle." But in my heart I feel so bad that he's hurt and it was my fault. I have very mixed feelings about the entire issue.

It's that good ole Norwegian Lutheran upbringing - no matter what it is, it's all your fault.

Now I know you're all going to write me and tell me that it's not my fault and that I shouldn't feel guilty. I just hope that I can absorb all those good words and quit feeling so guilty. I feel so badly because Ole doesn't do well with being inactive, and so as a result he gets kind of on the crabby side. And of course all you wives know how that goes - you all know which direction that frustration is vented. I hope I can make it through the next couple of months and keep my mental capacities normal.

Help!!

Love Lena

All is not well in the Ole Swenson Household

2010-05-01T12:50:00.003-05:00

I wish it was the motorcycle that had the broken leg. Ole could fix that. Ole says he can fix anything but a broken promise, a broken heart and software. Unfortunately, he can't fix this either.

Two summers ago we didn't do much motorcycle riding in the summer because Ole had surgery on his leg due to an infection caused by poor circulation. He ended up in the hospital for a week before the surgery and then of course recuperation time afterward. We made it on our annual bike trip to Sturgis and the Black Hills that year, but it was extremely low key and we didn't get to do much riding.

Last summer we didn't do much riding due to my hip issues. I just couldn't sit on the back of the bike without being in a lot of pain. So riding was curtailed that summer also.

So this summer we were really looking forward to putting some nice relaxing miles on the bike with both of us being in good health and pain free, but I guess that's not going to happen.

We recycle our newspapers at our house. I stack them up in an old laundry basket and when it gets full Ole hauls them out to my car and I take them to town and dump them at the recycle center. Yesterday was the day the basket was full, I was headed for town so Ole was doing his job and was carrying them out to my car.

A couple of days prior to this I had been cleaning the garage, but hadn't quite completed it yet due to a number of interruptions that always seem to happen around here. I heard the phone ring, made a run for the house and kicked my garden shoes off at the bottom of the steps. They weren't in the middle - just kind of to the side. Yesterday Ole was carrying this basket of newspapers so couldn't see where he was going, missed the last step, tripped over one of my shoes as he tried to save himself and went down with a crash and a very loud yell. I came running from my car and found him splattered on the concrete floor writhing in agony and yelling that he'd heard his ankle snap.

How was I to get this 5' 14" (he always tells everyone he's 5'14" when he's really 6'2" - right K-Lo?) - anyway, this 5'14" 250-pound man up off the floor and into my car. I wanted to call 911 and get the rescue squad but of course he wouldn't have that and managed to somehow right himself and hobble to his truck.

Daisy (his german shepherd) is of course in a panic and making circles around him the entire time, trying to lick his face when he's down and sticking extremely close when he's finally up. There was no way she was going to stay home and not keep her grandpa in site at all times. So I got everyone loaded and off we went to the ER.

They took very good care of him, but of course it always takes forever. We got there shortly before 1 o'clock and it was almost 4 o'clock when we left. And there were only two patients in the waiting room when we got there.

His x-rays showed that he tore the ligament and several chunks of bone from where the ligament attaches to the ankle bone. He's scheduled to see an orthopedic doctor next week and I guess we'll get the ultimate prognosis then. But it more than likely will involve surgery to re-attach that ligament. My ex-son-in-law had the same thing happen, so Lovely Daughter remembers very well how the procedure goes. And you know, men are just not good patients, are they.

Ole was given orders to keep his foot elevated as much as possible and not to put any weight at all on his foot until he sees the surgeon. Yeah, well, you know how THAT's gone already.

My only saving grace at this point is to keep him drugged. Yes, People, I've become a pill pusher. The pain killers make him sleepy so if I keep giving him pain killers at least he won't be up wandering around like he shouldn't be.

At least I can't be arrested for this, right?

Love Lena

Yesterday and Today

2010-04-24T10:43:00.004-05:00

I finished my week out with lots of fun last night. We had a very impromptu gathering in our backyard. I called three different couples about 5 o'clock and told them to come over for hot dogs on the grille and beer. And that's just what we did.

I don't normally eat hot dogs and if I do the only way I like them is done on the grille. So I sent Ole to town to buy some potato salad, some cole slaw and I had a couple of cans of beans and that rounded out our gourmet meal. Everybody loved it, it was very little work for me and it was nice and relaxing. The fire in the fire pit felt really toasty and warm after the sun went down.

Because three of the four men that were here are involved on the church council, and two of the four women involved with the ladies organization, conversation naturally turned to church issues. Several entries ago I wrote about the financial issues that our church is having. Well, things haven't straightened out much, and it's not for lack of trying. The DCE, who was/is causing all the financial drain has found a full-time position with insurance benefits, but is still working (or says he is) at our church 20 hours a week to the tune of $40,000 a year. Still draining the finances of the church. I'm not going to go into all of those issues here today, other than to say that there are two viewpoints of the members of the council - one stating that now that he's found fulltime employment he should step down from his position from the church and the other thinking that it's okay for him to stay on a part time basis. And the two factions can't seem to meet in the middle. The three men that were here last night are all on Ole's page - the ****! should be given the heave ho before he milks us dry.

But the thing I wanted to talk about today is how different things are now than years ago. Here she goes again, you say, living in the past.

Here's a picture of the original church built in 1880. All the spires and the steeples always intrigued me. I may be of ScandiHOOvian decent, but the krauts that started this German Lutheran Church were more than willing to take my family in. Kind of looks like something from the Frankenstein era, doesn't it? It was built in a beautiful setting out in the country on the river bank that was finally its demise. As the years went by and the flooding got worse and worse each year the basement finally gave way and the church had to be demolished. A new church was built in the little town about a mile away from this location. Don't get me wrong, the new church is beautiful, but the old one had so much character and holds so many memories for me and a lot of other folks in the area. I went to Sunday school here, was confirmed here and Ole and I were married here.

Below is a picture of the alter. Quite ornate don't you think? Hand carved oak by one of the original founders of the church. When the church was demolished all the stained glass windows were saved and worked into the new church. The thing that I find extremely upsetting is that the alter wasn't used. It was removed from the old church, hung in someone's storage building for many years and then became firewood. Our new church is quite modern in decor, so the folks on the building committee didn't think the old alter was suitable. My opinion is that it should never have been destroyed, but located somwhere else in the church for history's sake. How about having it on one of the walls in the fellowship hall? I guess that would have made too much sense (I'm being sarcastic and caustic here in case you couldn't tell!)

My family moved here in 1953. The minister at that time was named Pastor Schumm, a very soft spoken, gentle man with a large family and a wife that was very involved with church activities.

One of the interesting things about that period of time is the salary of the minister - it was merely a stipend and depended on how much was left AFTER paying the monthly bills of the church. From what I have gathered from some of the "old time members" of our church is that the majority of what this minister received in compensation was not monetary. He lived in the parsonage - a house right next to the church which was owned by the church. He received a variety of chickens, beef and a garden produce in lieu of cash. His kids and wife were expected to keep the church clean, windows washed, etc., and see that the furnace was stoked in the winter so it would be warm for Sunday morning services. He and his family gave of themselves willingly.

Now, compare this to the DCE who was previously making $80,000+, now cut back to $40,000 for a 20 hour week, has another full time job with benefits and
refuses to do anything even a little bit extra.

I'm certainly not expecting him to work for chickens and eggs and fresh produce, but there certainly is a difference in attitude here. I'll let you draw your own conclusions. I already have mine.

Love you all, Lena

Uff da, it's been a busy week then

2010-04-23T09:50:00.004-05:00

I've hardly had time to come up for air. You know how those weeks go. But today is Friday and I managed to sleep in and loll around the house this morning, read a few blogs, the newspaper and now I'm feeling guilty because I should get busy. You know what a normal characteristic feeling guilty is for a woman, but when you grew up Norwegian Lutheran, it's even a heavier load to carry. I think that's the biggest gene that those Norwegian Lutherans sent down the pipeline to the next generation was how to feel guilty correctly.

Well, then, let me tell you about my week - if you're interested that is.

I'm one of the officers of our women's church group - LWML for the rest of you Lutherans - Lutheran Women's Mission League for those of you who aren't. We found out two weeks ago that it was our turn to host the Spring Rally. Now that's not a LOT of notice, but our group works together very well and we managed to pull it off successfully.

Because I'm the treasurer I got to do all the grocery shopping for the lunch we put together. The standard statement is always, "Well, you've got the checkbook, you go get the groceries." Groceries for 75 people gets to be a lot of groceries to be hauling around, loading, unloading and putting away, but Ole was kind enough to help me. So I spent Monday afternoon doing that. Then came Tuesday when six of us got together in the church kitchen and spent the day preparing all the food for the next day. Tuesday started at 10 o'clock and ended about 4 o'clock. Then came Wednesday, the day of the Rally so we were all there bright and early at 8 o'clock and by the time we finished cleaning everything up it was 4 o'clock again.

For me that was three days of being on my feet on a concrete floor and the old bod' told me so, too. We were all "Pooped Puppies."

But the ladies and the five ministers that attended from other churches raved about the food. Ministers are always hungry, I think. At least ours is and I don't know where he puts it because he's so slim and trim. In his former life he was a Marine. Didn't become a minister until he was 44 years old. VERY interesting fellow.

I must tell you about our entertainment. It was a skit entitled "Olga and Lena Go to Church." Here's a picture of Olga and Lena. Lena is in the stylish orange hat. (Actually, that's me - they didn't know I wasn't just PLAYING the part - I actually LIVE it!)

Olga and I used our very best Norwegian brogue and they all laughed at us. Someone should tell them it's not nice to laugh at people when they're trying so hard to speak English (snicker). The synopsis of the story was that Lena always sat in the back pew, always in the same seat. But today when she came to church someone else was occupying her seat and unless she sat in THAT seat she couldn't listen to the Pastor's sermon. Then it went on about what happens in the back pews - all da coughing and da nose blowing and the snoring, and how Ole always takes a nap in the back pew during the sermon. It just wouldn't do to sit in the front pew with Ole because when he wakes up he doesn't know WHERE he is or WHO he is and how high he jumps when Lena pokes him with her elbow.

Anyway, Olga finally convinces Lena to move to the front pew and the story goes on as to what she experiences up there. Lena can actually SEE and HEAR what's happening from the front pew and some of the remarks that she makes made our Pastor blush and in several instances burst out laughing. We made him sit in the front pew on the other side so we could look at him and point fingers.

Anyway, it was hilarious and both Olga and I had a hard time to get through it without busting up ourselves. I just about lost it a couple of times and had a hard time to continue.

We had a great time. But I had to spend yesterday recovering as I felt like I had been run over by a truck and then it backed up over me again. Today is better.

Have you been following all the news about the volcano erupting in Iceland? Well, Ole and I have probably because we have a special interest in it because we used to live there. I'd like to share a video with you that I have posted previously so some of you may have seen it. It's what Iceland looked like back in the dark ages and the days of the Vikings when Ole and I lived there. Hope you enjoy it.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Love you all, Lena

Ten Commandments Minnesota Style - Uffdah

2010-04-16T11:29:00.005-05:00

1. Der's only one God, ya know.

2. Don't make that fish on your mantle an idol.

3. Cussin ain't Minnesota nice.

4. Go to church even when you're up nort.

5. Honor your folks.

6. Don't kill. Catch and release.

7. There's only one Lena for every Ole. No cheatin.

8. If it ain't your lutefisk, don't take it.

9. Don't be braggin bout how much snow ya shoveled.

10. Keep your mind off your neighbor's hotdish.

I got this email from a blogger friend, Susan, who lives in Florida. She used to live up in the good ole' Nort'land so she knows about what she speaks. She's been COLD in her lifetime. But somewhere along the line she got smarter and moved south. She said she thought about me when she saw this - it must have been the picture of Ole and me on that Minnesota map. I live real close to that top snowflake up there.

In my last post I wrote about Ole's haute courtier wardrobe of flannel shirts. Someone, I can't remember who, wrote me a note and asked me to post a picture of Ole in a suit. Well, I WILL do that - because he does clean up pretty good, you know. But I have a technical issue to deal with first.

Some time ago I bought a new all in one printer. This little marvel is wireless and it prints, scans, copies and faxes and sits there on my credenza and looks pretty besides. Then I had to take my computer in and have some work done on it. Unfortunately when I got it home I can no longer get it to hook up wirelessly. Frustrating. Especially when my computer guru (Big Brother) lives half way around the world from me (a warmer climate also). I'm sure it's something I'm missing/overlooked, and granted I haven't taken a lot of time to try and figure it out because I've had so many other irons in the fire. But because of that I can't scan and get any new pictures onto my computer. I'm sure that getting the printer connected again wirelessly is just one of those five minute jobs that will only take five or six hours. You know how that goes.

So you'll just have to wait to see how handsome Ole is when he cleans up.

Ole and I have been SO productive over the last week or so. We got a new hot tub so we decided that it was time to spruce up the porch that we have it in. We built a 3-season screen room a few years back to put the hot tub in because we got tired of the mosquitoes trying to carry us away in the summer time. So we hauled everything out of the porch and painted the floor. The hot tub is kind of a copper/red color so I put new rugs down on top of my nicely painted terracotta colored floor and I'm going to buy new cushions for the chairs we have in there. Maybe gold as suggested by Lovely Daughter, because there's gold in the rugs on the floor. Pictures to come when it's all completed.

Then yesterday we stained our dance-hall sized deck. You know, it's never big enough when you're having some "doings" out there - it's never big until you start hauling a paint brush back and forth on all those boards. So we had to go sit in the hot tub last night to loosen up all the aches and pains in the arms from the paint brushes.

So I have to tell you about little Lucy and the deck. Lucy is my little blue-eyed cuddle cat, the sweetest kitty ever. I started staining in one corner and Ole started staining in the other. About the time my corner was just tacky Lucy decided she wanted to go in the house - of course across the deck to the patio door. She took her first step and realized that her foot was sticking so she lifted it up and was going to clean it. That's when she felt her other front foot stick, put the first one down and was going to clean the second one. Then she realized that her back feet were sticking and sat down, put one back foot in the air to clean it and realized that her little backside was stuck. She finally stood up, looked at me in the most pitiful way and started crying. "Come and get me, please!" So Lena to the rescue, wiped off her little "pattie paws" and as much of her backside as would come off and deposited her in the house not to be allowed outside again until the deck was dry. When I opened the door to let her out this morning she was VERY hesitant to even put foot on the deck but she eventually went. You know how cats are - you open the door and they stand half way in and half way out making their decision until you give them an assist with your foot!!! (Just a little boost, you know.)

Well, I had best get busy and accomplish something. When Ole gets home from town our project is to clean the garage out. Can you believe that? Three major projects one one week? I truly amaze myself (snicker).

Oh, and by the way, Marge is on her way up Nort' today. She'll be going almost right by my house. I'll be wavin' when you be honkin', Marge. One of these days you'll have to take a detour and stop by my house for some coffee and krumkaka. It's only a six mile detour from either I-29 or I-94.

Love you all, Lena

Weather forecasters

2010-04-14T21:42:00.003-05:00

I used to have a kitty named Petunia. She was a beautiful, long-haired gray and white little girl that grew very loving as she grew older. Unfortunately, one year when we were traveling and were spending time in Sturgis at the bike rally she escaped through the RV door never to be seen again. I still miss her as she was a real little cuddle bug.

Petunia was the most accurate long-range winter weather forecaster you could imagine. If we were going to have a rough, cold and bitter winter she would grow a lion's mane around her head that was unbelievable. As I said, she was a long-haired cat and the lion's mane she grew was always long and silky. If we were going to have a mild winter she would still grow the lion's mane, but to a much more minor degree. She never missed a forecast in the 9 years that I had her. I still find it strange that animals can foretell things like that.

As I said I don't have Petunia anymore but I still have Ole. He doesn't forecast winters very well, but he does a darn good job on summers. To understand this you need to know a little background about Ole.

Ole worked for the same company for 30 years. For 30 years he wore a three-piece suit, white shirt and tie to work on a daily basis. When he retired at 55 he became extremely "stylin" and graduated to blue jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel shirt over the t-shirt and a pair of cowboy boots. On Sundays he upgrades to a pair of black jeans and a nice golf shirt along with the cowboy boots.

Now the reason I'm writing about this is that today Ole shed the flannel shirt and worked outside with just the t-shirt (and the jeans of course - where's your mind, People.) That absolutely has to mean that summer is upon us. It's a day to mark your calendars when Ole sheds his flannel shirt. It's really early this year as usually he doesn't quit wearing his flannel shirts until the 4th of July.

Ole grumbles about his flannel shirts. I don't buy expensive ones for him to wear out in the shop where they get all greasy and dirty and full of welding holes. I go to Wally World to buy his "Fashion Statements", and even though I'm able to buy Longs or Talls, he still thinks they're made for people whose arms end at their elbows. Ole's a big man - actually he tells people he's 5'14" - that explains why most of his flannel shirts look like they have three-quarter length sleeves. Fortunately the other part of his haute courtier wardrobe isn't as difficult to find - jeans and t-shirts.

Well, anyway, I just wanted to let you know that even though the first day of summer hasn't come to pass yet as far as the official calendar goes, Ole tells me that summer is here so you can all start to officially enjoy it.

Love Lena

Combovers, Toupees & Handlebar Moustaches

2010-04-10T08:18:00.003-05:00

Well, I haven’t “lived in the past” for a long time, so I suppose it’s about time to do that again. You know how it is when you get old - you have a tendency to get nostaligic - so here goes.

When I first met Ole back in the dark ages of high school, he had beautiful, thick, wavy hair down to his eyebrows. Back in those days every guy carried a comb in his back pocket and every time one of the strands of hair got out of place it was immediately returned to proper order. Picture Fonzie of Happy Days and his comb – that was actually for real – whipping that comb out frequently and running it through his hair. And guys didn’t use hair spray then – they used things like Brylcream or Vitalis. Brylcream was thick like toothpaste. Vitalis wasn’t as heavy, but both were very oily and greasy. That’s why all the guys had shiny hair back then. Here’s Ole from his high school days, and that’s pretty much what he looked like two years later when we got married.

When Lovely Daughter first saw this picture when she was in her teen years she wouldn’t believe it was her father!! At our 10 Year HS Class Reunion he was voted Most Changed Student in our graduating class. Not only in appearance, but it could have had something to do with the fact that he had actually become an upstanding member of society. In HS he was known as a “hood.” Definition back then was a tough guy who smoked and drank and raced his car where he shouldn’t.

By the time we moved to Iceland the hairline was beginning to recede a bit in the temple region. Ole always blamed it on the white hat that he had to wear. He said it cut off the circulation to his scalp and made the hair fall out. He neglected to look at his mother’s six brothers, all of who were completely bald on top with a fringe around the edge.

By the time he reached sea duty on the aircraft carrier he had begun the comb over. And a month before he was to get off the carrier and out of the Navy they made him shave off his handlebar moustache. At one point in time his moustache was long enough that if he stretched it out he could touch his ears on each side. He went through a lot of moustache wax at that time. EVERYONE wore handlebars in the Navy back then – I think making him shave it off was just a control issue at that point. You know, just to let him know that he wasn’t Master of his own Universe.

The comb over is getting more prevalent here – and a little more out of control.

By this time I was trying to encourage him to just deal with the fact that he was losing his hair and get it cut off. Combovers just weren’t attractive. But he wasn’t willing to accept hair loss yet. UNTIL his Buddy, who worked for him at that time, came back to his office one day and said, “Ole, get your coat, we’re going to go get you a haircut!” Buddy took him to his stylist, put Ole in a chair and told the stylist, “He’s bald, make him look like it! He’ll have to deal with the fact later.” And so she did, and Ole did. She cut all of those long stringy pieces of hair off the top of his head that were pretending to cover his bald spot, and left the ring around the ears and back. And how shocked I was when he came home from work that night – and how pleased. I called Buddy that night and thanked him profusely.

Here’s one of my favorite pictures of Ole and Lovely Daughter. See? He looks so distinguished with his bald pate rather than trying to pretend to have hair!!

Ole made the decision to retire at 55, and as that time came closer he cut the rim around his head shorter and shorter. He always said that when he retired he was going to SHAVE his head, and get a tattoo and an earring, and he did. About six months before he retired he started shaving his head, which was totally against company dress code at that time. He got his first tattoo on his shoulder where it couldn’t be seen anyway, and about three months before he retired he had his ear pierced. There was that rebellion issue coming out again, just like when he was a hood back in high school. He doesn’t exactly look like a hood anymore though, does he???

At one point in time, years ago when I was still working in the hospitality industry, I was the assistant sales manager at a rather large hotel in the city. I had booked in a convention of farm implement dealers who had their big pieces of equipment on display out in the parking lot. I distinctly remember that it was a very windy March day. The head of the convention had been out in the parking lot showing off some of his new equipment to convention goers, and when he blew back in the front door everyone couldn’t help but giggle at him. He hadn’t put enough glue or whatever it is that’s used to hold a toupee in place, on that morning, and the wind had lifted up the front of the toupee. It was curled backward and was flapping back and forth just a bit as he walked. No one bothered to tell the poor man what was going on, and apparently he didn’t take time to look in the mirror that afternoon because he walked around that way the entire remainder of the day. Poor soul – but it certainly gave us all a chuckle.

We have another friend who hasn’t dealt with the fact that he’s going bald yet either. He still wears a comb over and it gets worse and worse every year. He uses so much hair spray on it that when the wind blows it lifts all the hair up in one piece, but none of the hairs separate. It’s really hard to keep from laughing when this happens. If he only realized how stupid it looks.

After all, shaving your head these days is the fashionable thing to do. Remember – yesterday’s mullets are today’s combovers.

(Pssst – don’t tell Ole I wrote about this – we’ll keep it as our little secret, okay??)

Love you all, Lena

Why did you start blogging?

2010-04-08T14:51:00.003-05:00

I'm really curious - why did YOU start blogging?

I started blogging about five years ago at the insistance of Lovely Daughter. She had kept an on-line journal over at Diaryland for a number of years and made a lot of nice on-line friends. She would talk about this one and that one that she had become acquainted with and I began to feel as though I actually knew some of these folks. She encouraged me to start writing and even agreed to set up a page for me. I don't know what it's like now, but back then you almost had to be able to write HTML in order to have a page on Diaryland that didn't look like everyone else's page. I called it Lutefisk & Lefse. Being the ScandihOOvian that I am I thought that was appropriate.

Over time Diaryland developed a lot of technical problems that were due to growth, I think. Anyway, at that time a lot of the folks that I had become acquainted with bailed and moved elsewhere - some to Blogger and some to Wordpress. I made the jump and named my new digs The Adventures of Ole and Lena - a Stud and a Hot Dish!

Over time I made a lot of great friends through those two journals, some of whom I'm still in touch with, and some of whom I've actually met in person. We've followed each other's up and downs, vented our anger, been there with a shoulder to cry on when necessary, celebrated when the occasion has been appropriate - just all those wonderful things that friends do for each other. Just great, great people.

Then there's always the 'other' kind of people - those who just aren't so nice and are always looking to stir the pot. And as things can sometimes go - things can turn sour. When I was writing under The Adventures of Ole and Lena that's what happened. I became so disillusioned that I quit writing for a period of time, but I found I missed it terribly and I missed the truly GOOD folks that I had become acquainted with.

So several months later I decided to open up a new blog under the name of Tales from Frostbite Falls because I was hoping that the folks who had turned me so sour on blogging wouldn't find me and continue the harrassment. But the title Tales from Frostbite Falls has just never felt RIGHT, if you know what I mean. I just wasn't Rocky the Squirrel or Bullwinkle the Moose - the only connection Frostbite Falls had for me was that it was cold there, and I live in a cold country.

So without changing the link I've decided to change the title of my blog back to The Adventures of Ole and Lena - A Stud and a Hot Dish - ( because that's what I am - and Ole's still kind of a stud too - at least in MY eyes!) Just don't tell him I said that or he might get a big head, okay?

So there you have it, Folks - I've made the circle and I'm back to being a true ScandihOOvian again. Now I feel I can again write about all things Norwegian and Swedish like lutefisk and lefse.

Love you all,

Lena

Secrets of Ole and Lena

2010-04-07T12:16:00.002-05:00

Here's a video I put together several years ago. I thought that some of you who haven't been reading me that long might enjoy it. Make sure your sound is turned on.

I'm sure you've noticed the changes on the page. I haven't got time to explain them today, but will in my next post.

Love you all,

Lena

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Just Stuff

2010-04-03T09:18:00.004-05:00

When good eggs go bad!!

First of all, to answer a couple of questions that were posed from my last post:

DCE is short for Director of Christian Education. He oversees the Board of Education, teaches bible study classes and one class of confirmation. He also works with the teenagers and organizes their activities. For that, he was making in excess of $80,000 a year, until the budget was cut.

When I was a kid growing up in that church we had larger numbers of young people than there are now and there were young couples who VOLUNTEERED to do those things. Then at one time we had a seminary student who was doing an internship, a vicar for a period of time and various volunteers throughout the years. Then this guy came along about 15 years ago, wormed his way in and has managed to decimate the budget over the years - along with other things of course.

It's extremely difficult to get anyone to volunteer at our church due to some past history of staff members. The office manager that up and quit was making $25,000 a year, working four days a week for six and a half hours a day along with a full benefit package. And she didn't know diddly about running a computer so she was virtually no help to our current minister who is very tech oriented and does most everything electronically. She was constantly crabbing about how overworked she was, which she wasn't, and also was totally inept at keeping confidential information confidential, which she should have been fired for. Members would volunteer to do things to help her out and then she would go and redo everything because it was never done good enough and then she would criticize. People finally got tired of all that and quit volunteering. When her hours were cut, she got mad and walked out making a statement that the church would never be able to operate without her. There's lots more about her I could go into, but it's not important anymore because she's gone. It was difficult to deal with her in any manner due to the fact that her husband was president of the council for 6 of the 7 years that she was employed in that position. And her son was an elder so that didn't help either.

So, on we go, figuring things out and making baby steps to the positive - hopefully.

So what are your plans for Easter? I don't have to cook this year!!! Since Lovely Daughter and Sven moved into a big house in town I've turned all the holidays over to them. I will, of course, bring some dishes and some goodies, but they're in charge of the main preparation and the cleanup. Should be fun as some of their neighbors are coming over.

She has the most interesting neighbors. It's a bunch of brothers - I think 5 or 6 - from way far northern Minnesota, up by the Canadian border. They're all in their 20s and 30s and grew up in a family of 17 children. They've been on TV on the Learning Channel and Discovery on "Kids by the Dozen" and have their own website. One of the older brothers owns the house and a construction company and as the younger boys get to be college age they cycle through the house, attend school and work for him. They are the nicest young men and so fun to visit with. They get started telling stories about growing up in a house with 17 kids and it's hilarious. Can you imagine sitting down to a meal with 19 people at the table? Or cooking for that many on a regular basis? I get tired just thinking about it. I've met their parents and they are wonderful people. Mom is slim and trim and looks so young I can't believe it. So that should be a fun day.

I went to town yesterday to run errands and when I came home Ole was on the lawnmower and had the entire yard (5 acres) cleaned up. It looks so nice and is really greening up. But you should have seen Ole when he came in. You couldn't tell what color he was (chuckle) from all the dust and dirt that had blown up on him. So this afternoon I'm hoping to get out and clean up some of my flowerbeds as the little green things are popping up there also. But first I have to make some homemade buns, a key lime pie and a salad for tomorrow.

Guess I had better get busy, huh?

Have a Blessed Easter, everyone.

Love you all, Lena

A Pain in the Neck

2010-03-30T09:30:00.003-05:00

I have a pain in the neck - and it's not even Ole!!

Since retirement Ole and I have become quite active in church. He's a trustee and I'm a member of the council. At this point I'm not sure this is a good thing as our church has huge financial problems. I won't go into all the boring details other than to say we have staff that is too highly compensated and the previous council didn't take care of things the way they should have. We have a membership of just over 300 folks with a DCE that makes more than the minister. The DCE's salary and the secretary's salary add up to 67% of our total annual budget. It's hard to keep the lights and the heat on in the winter time under those circumstances.

Part of the problem, up until two years ago, was that the secretary's husband was the president of the council and her son was an elder. At the last meeting of the year where her husband was president, before he stepped down from office, he pushed through a $6,000 a year raise for his wife. She only works 4 days a week, 8:30 to 4:00 - or is SUPPOSED to work those hours. Of course he had his little toadies all lined up ahead of time to make the motion and second it immediately that this would pass. He did the same thing for the DCE only the raise was bigger. By the way, both of these positions include huge benefit packages $$$$$!!

Four years ago, when our new minister came, he didn't want to live in the church furnished parsonage so we sold it to the tune of $385,000. There was acreage that went along with this house as it's out in the country in a beautiful setting. Spending has been out of control for so long that by this time all of our savings had been used up and instead of investing the income from the parsonage the council at that time decided to use that money to keep the church's head above water. Due to over compensated people and champagne taste with a beer income, the church has $25,000 of that $385,000 left. At the current rate of spending the council figured they could keep the doors open possibly another 6 months, so maybe it was time to do something!! Gee, do ya think?

Last fall Ole was asked to be on the budget & finance committee. Gee, didn't I promise I wasn't going to go into all the details? I lied!!

Anyway, he went around the community and visited 7 other churches about our size. They shared their financial information with him and of those 7 churches we were the only one that had a paid full-time DCE and a paid secretary, both with huge benefit packages.

To make a long story short, (ha, ha) the only way to come up with a balanced budget - one that will match the giving income that we have - is to cut the hours and salaries of the DCE's position and the secretary's position. The secretary got mad and quit and the DCE negotiated and is now working 20 hours a week and currently making a salary of $47,000. Can you imagine that for a 20 hour week? The committee has budgeted so much money for the DCE's annual salary and have told him that when it's gone - it's gone and he won't get a pay check. We have no other choice because there's no money left - unfortunately instead of being understanding about it he's being a real a- -! He's certainly not practicing the christian values that he's been preaching for so long, and in fact, stood up in front of everyone at one voter's meeting and yelled at everyone that they were a "faithless bunch of no goods!"

Anyway - back to where I started. I have a pain in the neck. I went to the last council meeting and came out of it with such a terrible headache I felt like my eyeballs were going to fall out of my head. That was three weeks ago. I still have the headache. Yes - I've had my blood pressure checked and it's fine. I think I just have so much stress in my neck and it's so tight right now that I can't get rid of the headache. I've been to the chiropractor several times and he's gotten my neck and upper back to move. It feels okay for a day or so and then I'm right back to square one.

This is no fun. I know - I take things far to seriously - but that's just me. Politics and church are not a good mix. Unfortunately there's way too much of it at least in this church.

Love Lena

Invaded by swans

2010-03-29T16:32:00.003-05:00

We've been invaded - not by aliens from outerspace, but by flocks of swans heading north to Canada. That HAS to mean that spring is on the way because I just know that Mother Nature wouldn't allow those lovely birds to fly north before it was warm enough.

We took Daisy for her nightly run last night, and fortunately I grabbed my camera on the way out the door. It's really good "pickin's" around here for all the birds going north as there are still many corn fields standing that didn't get harvested last fall due to all the rain. I told Ole that I hope they don't eat too much so they can still get off the ground when they decide to leave. They usually stay for 5 to 7 days in our area before they take off and then we don't see them again until fall.

On a local slough -

Landing in a cornfield

Aren't they amazing? If you go outside at night you can hear them flying overhead. Sometimes, if they're looking for a place to land, they fly so low you can hear the rush of their wings.

We have a pair of Canadian geese that come back to our bend in the river every year. I noticed them the other day up on the bank pecking for food so I dumped a loaf of old dry bread on the bank. I've attracted all kinds of critters, but the Mom and Dad geese are there scarfing up the goodies.

Love Lena