Lessons Learned in 2010

Unlike 2009, I'm proud to report that this year I had only pleasant working-relationships with duct tape, axes and electrical wires.  The bare patches in my beard have grown back, my limp is almost gone and the dishwasher no longer triggers the smoke alarm.

But, this past year presented me with several more lessons to work on in 2011.

* Regardless of how much I convince myself I can still mix-it-up with students during phy-ed class, a head-on collision with an 8th-grade boy can cause six weeks of uncomfortable sleep and long-term labored breathing.

* Sometimes, a seven-year-old, behaving incorrigibly in front of a crowd at a waterpark does not always mean he's being a brat.  It can also mean he's about to throw-up pepperoni pizza and Gatorade all over the rope bridge that dangles just above patrons floating down the Lazy River ride.

* Seeing a "low fuel" warning light flashing on the dashboard will no longer challenge me to see how far I can drive before stopping for gas. (Especially when driving a fully-loaded Suburban with my family, while pulling a camper into a 30 mph headwind in 90 degree heat in desolate central Iowa on the first day of a two-week vacation to the Grand Canyon).  ~L

Redneck Recycling

Heating the house with Christmas-generated garbage.  If you can tolerate the acrid smoke - packing peanuts, bubble wrap and styrofoam give off alot of BTUs (and CFCs).

Wis. Postal Worker Delivers Mail In The Buff

Wis. Postal Worker Delivers Mail In The Buff « CBS Minnesota – News, Sports, Weather, Traffic, and the Best of Minnesota

A Gift From Jellybean

Our dog discovered the gut pile from Henry's deer.  A large set of purple lungs greeted me from the garage floor this morning when I went out to warm up the car.  ~L

Won't Last Long ...Literally

We Wisconsoners are thoughtful and thrifty.  This is a real craigslist ad from November 14, 2010.

free 20# bag of ice (new..never opened) (Menomonie)

Date: 2010-11-14, 5:43PM CST

I have a 20# bag of ice to give away. I am getting my turkey this week and need to remove the ice bag to make room in my freezer. I was going to let it melt, but I thought someone might be able to use it with the holidays coming up.

•Location: Menomonie

http://eauclaire.craigslist.org/zip/2060352721.html

Just finished reading...

Our little community library system has an excellent selection of small-town books written by amateur authors.  Last week I found this in Ladysmith.

Monster Fire at Minong: Wisconsin's Five Mile Tower Fire of 1977.

For those with personal ties to the Minong/Gordon/Wascott area in northern Wisconsin in the mid 1970's (as I have), author Bill Matthias recaptures the events that took place leading up to that fateful week. 

More than 1,500 area residents who fought the fire (including one from my family) and dozens of local businesses are mentioned.

Happy Hour Helps Humanity

My contribution to civilization.



Finally, beer drinkers get the recognition they deserve.

Here's the link:  http://www.aolnews.com/weird-news/article/archaeologist-beer-sowed-the-seeds-of-civilization/19709587?test=latestnews

Eat Like Elvis

Ran out of ideas for supper last night, so it was fried, peanut butter and banana sandwiches - just like Elvis used to eat.  Instead of pan-frying them in bowel-hardening lard, like The King, I used Smart Balance spread and an electric griddle.

Happy to report - this morning I discovered no one slumped over, unconscious, on the toilet. 

(note: for you younger readers - that's how Elvis was found before he died)

Limber Legs

Hacky Sacking at lunch hour the past several weeks has earned me valuable "street cred" with a certain segment of the student body.  I still bring a handstand serve and "the kiss".

It's Not Every Day...

This afternoon I witnessed a haggard-looking gentleman with an eye patch eating a banana in a Mercedes at Wal-Mart.  I had a camera, but decided not to ask.

Taking a Dump...Part I

After years of doing chores like hauling manure, firewood, gravel and brush on our 40 acre hobby farm using only an ATV and pick-up, we decided to buy an old dump truck.

For weeks I searched Craigslist, Ebay, farm newspapers and weekly shoppers looking for something suitable.

Several possible candidates appeared each day. Eliminating all that were too big or too expensive still left a nice selection of single axle dump trucks and grain trucks from the early 1960's to mid 70's. Most had small motors and shorter boxes. All needed brakes.

I’d never considered a vintage truck until I saw the Craigslist ad for a 1952 Chevrolet 1.5 ton flatbed dump truck. From what I could see from the photos the truck looked clean and straight. The steel flatbed had removable stake sides which we wanted for hauling logs and hay bales. Plus, it had a rusty patina that made it look like a real work truck.

As a long-time antiques collector (vintage baseball equipment, Zane Grey books, Red Wing crocks, hunting/fishing gear) I’ve always been partial to old stuff. This truck had the look and I wanted to see it in person.

The listing was 10 days old when I responded, so I expected it to be gone. The seller said it was still available and was I only the second person to inquire about it. Was there something wrong with it I hadn’t noticed in the description? Or did it just happen to go unnoticed?

After explaining the specs (quiet and strong 235 ci., 4+2 driveline, PTO hydraulics, all accessories and lights working and REBUILT BRAKES!) I made the 400 mile round trip to look at it. Impressed with how smoothly it started and ran, and with how solid it was for a 58 year-old northern Wisconsin truck, I decided to buy it.  The story about getting it from Shiocton, WI home to Bruce is soon to come as Taking a Dump... Part II.

Home for 48 hours and it’s already given 25 miles of rides up and down our country roads - including a trip with my boys to our local recycling center.  Our cargo in the 14-foot box was one garbage can full of empty milk jugs and tin cans!

I’ve posted several videos on YouTube showing the truck in action. I’ll post more as I get them.  ~L

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DO17nl0-QaM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IaVha7w9lYQ

In Wisconsin we prefer venison jerky as our bedroom aphrodisiac.

http://www.charlotteobserver.com/2010/09/14/1692106/report-woman-eating-pigs-feet.html

Mouse Count


Saturday, September 18, 2010

My August 29 post quotes my mouse catching goal this fall is 50. 
At this pace it should happen on October 19. 



From Coop to Freezer

Ten weeks after arriving as palm-size puffballs our jumbo fryers finished out at 5-7 pounds.  Our friends, the Andersons, came to help butcher.  From set-up to clean up was a little more than two hours for four people to process 24 birds.  It's been a long time since I've had beer before 9 am.

Here, Gary demonstrates the efficiency of his homemade chicken plucker.

Of Mice and Meal

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Acorns and turds on the truck's dash say it's time to set traps in the barn. 
Last fall's count totaled 44. 

This year's first set went 3 for 4.  Fifty is the goal.

Pigs-in-a blanket and Kool-Aid for the kids' supper tonight.
 For me it's Frosted Flakes, pickled beans and Blatz.
(Did you really think I cooked the mice?)

This week at a glance...or blur.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

First band practice in two weeks and half-dozenth of the summer.  Very rusty, but we added Carrie Underwood's Undo It to our set list.  A Grand Canyon trip, Little League, Vacation Bible School, swimming lessons, church camp and football practice, along with a similar schedule for our band mates left us with no dates for practice or gigs.


Wednesday, August 25, 2010

A morning's picking of tomatoes, along with the ones from the window sill, add 11 quarts of spaghetti sauce to our canning shelves.  Except for the garlic, all the ingredients (onions, peppers, celery, cilantro) come from our garden. With the number of tomatoes still on the vine we'll do this at least four more times.

Thirty-two pounds of recycled aluminum cans and two, car batteries bring only $20.04.  I spend $85.00 on morning errands.

Surprisingly, the dog remains upright after lapping up nearly a quart of hot cooking oil from the pan I left on the outdoor stove after frying fish.  Good thing she's an outdoor dog or we'd probably need new carpet.

Thursday, August, 26, 2010

Made sauerkraut today.  Good friend Andy and I shred four of his volleyball-size cabbages into 40 lbs of raw kraut.  Used a wooden baseball bat to pack it into a five gallon pail.  Should be ready for canning in a couple months.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Finished sawing, splitting, hauling and piling the last of a semi load of wood given to me last year. Popple and basswood make marginal quality firewood in prime condition - but these logs are several years past. I should be able to squeeze a few BTUs from them before the really cold weather hits.

Had a nice evening of drinks and buffet dinner with some of  co-workers.  Enjoyed watching two math teachers, two English teachers and and a science teacher trying to play the dice games 6-5-4 and 7-14-21. Losers drank shots of tequila, blackberry brandy, cinnamon schnapps or butterscotch schnapps.  There were several hungover nerds this morning.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

Realizing summer vacation is a week from over the kids want to "do something" today. Choices are bowling, hit golf balls at a driving range or visit the Pioneer Village museum in Cameron.  We tour Pioneer Village and go for ice cream after.  Watching the rest of his family order at Dairy Queen, 6-year-old Jack tearfully regrets choosing the immediate gratification of an over-priced Popsicle at the museum rather than wait a half-hour for his treat.  ~L

Abandoned 1952 Dodge dump truck barn find

For years I've seen glimpses of this old truck hiding in the woods near my home.  I decided to check it out. ~L

Indian in the Barn

It's every gearhead's dream to discover a vintage car, truck or motorcycle that's been stored away and forgotten about for decades.  These vehicles are called barn finds, or referred to as barn fresh because many are found covered in dust in derelict barns across the country.

I stumbled upon my own barn find (machine shed actually - but close enough) last summer while responding to a Craiglist ad with dirt bikes for sale.  The seller (a former acquaintance coincedently) told me the bikes were sold, but indicated he had an old, fixer-upper bike I was welcome to have.

What I got was a rare 1972 Indian JC-5A.  This is the same Indian family of bikes that competed with Harley-Davidson from the turn of the century until the early 1950's.  The short-lived era of Indian off-road bikes lasted from approximately 1971 to 1976.

This JC-5A was bought new in '71 or '72 and ridden occasionally for 3-4 years before being outgrown and forgotten about for the last 30+ years.

My plans to get the bike running have gone no further than for it to gather dust in the back of my shed while waiting to be someone else's barn find.

Ronnie Moore - I'd Glove to Find You

When I find Ronnie Moore it'll be a memorable day for each of us.

I'm in possession of a valuable piece of Mr. Moore's personal property - his baseball glove.

As an avid antiques collector and long-time baseball fan I was in the process of decorating my young son's bedroom with vintage baseball equipment when I found the glove in an antique shop in Hayward in 2004.

While cleaning the glove I noticed the name Ronnie Moore - Garnavillo, Iowa written in ink on the wrist strap. I hung the glove on the wall with the strap facing outward and each time I looked at it I wondered how Mr. Moore and his glove became separated. I also wondered about the stories he might tell if the glove was returned to him.

Even after twenty-some address changes throughout my life I've managed to keep track of my old baseball gloves. Each glove frames a tiny window of time from my childhood.

My first glove, a seven-inch New Port came from Link's in Minong. I'm sure living in isolated confines small-town, northern Wisconsin in 1974 made it difficult for my mother to find any baseball gloves and even harder finding one for a lefty.

In anticipation of the upcoming pee-wee league season that year, I used a roll of masking tape to decorate a t-shirt to look like a baseball uniform. When she saw my creation my sister reminded me I didn't even own a glove.

For several seasons the New Port was my trusty mitt - until I made an error that lost the game for my Spooner Little League team. From the stands I heard a parent say "that kid needs a bigger glove".

Years later I nearly lost the little glove when it was stolen by a neighborhood kid. I saw it hanging from the handlebars of his bicycle as he rode through the neighborhood. When he left his bike and the glove unattended I took it back. He'd scribbled over my name and wrote his on it. A black blotch still remains where I covered over his name with a permanent marker.

A bigger glove arrived as a birthday present in October 1977. A photograph from the party at my grandparents' house shows my satisfied look as I unwrapped the gift.

The next morning my brother and I played catch in the frosty air of a Lake Superior morning. We stood as far apart as we could throw and began heaving the ball back and forth without first warming up our arms. The following morning our family went to an orchard to pick apples, but I was unable help because I couldn't lift my left arm away from my side.

Unfortunately, due to it's large size and misshapen fit (I flattened it under a mattress to "break it in") the glove was uncomfortable and never worked well.

Sometime after that my great-grandma gave me a glove she found at a flea market in Park Falls. It was slightly larger than the little New Port, but lucky for me it was a first baseman's mitt and I mostly played first base.

In 1980 I got my favorite glove, a Rawlings "Fastback" at The Sports Page sporting goods store in Rice Lake. I'd tried on the glove numerous times over the summer, but at $32.00 I never considered buying it.

Then one day it was marked 50 percent off. I relentlessly informed my mom it was "a steal" and that I had to have it. Later that evening she came home with the glove, but was unsure if it was the one I wanted because it didn't say "steal" anywhere on it. She assumed by the fuss I made that "steal" was a brand name or a feature of the glove.

The Fastback got me through the remainder of Little League and all my Babe Ruth, Parks and Recreation league and high school baseball years. It's been rained on a few times, the inner lining is rotted and many of the broken laces are simply knotted back together.

My gloves are an enjoyable reminder of my childhood and my love of baseball. I'd regret losing them. I'd like to know if Ronnie Moore feels the same about his glove.

Last fall I attempted to find Mr. Moore.

With Garnavillo's small population of 686 (one resident shy of being perfectly divided between male and female) I figured a couple of phone calls is all it would take to reach Ronnie. A Google search found an elderly woman with the last name Moore who lives in the tiny town.

Mrs. Moore, a life-long Garnavillo resident, was unfamiliar with Ronnie and believed her family were the only Moores in the area. She apologized for not being able to help, but was interested in how my search turned out.

Another computer search provided me with five Ronald Moores with Iowa addresses, but only one had an active phone number. He was not the Mr. Moore I'm looking for. Like Mrs. Moore, he also asked me to let him know if I find Ronnie.

I stopped searching for several months, but kept the glove near my computer. Yesterday I began calling around again and managed to speak with a retired Iowa police chief. He offered to assist me by starting a background check of any Ronald Moore with a link to Garnavillo. If the chief's research is unsuccessful there are a few more options available to generate leads.

Until then the glove sits on a shelf waiting for the day I find Ronnie Moore.