Pedestrian View

Earlier this summer, Doug “Fingers” Maguire of Gloria Dei Lutheran in Duluth conceived the idea of a Blues Service during the annual Bayfront Blues Festival in Duluth. Sister Patti Maguire also thought it might be chance to also save the orphanage, whose taxes are long overdue, so Doug decided to get the band back together.

He found bass man Tom “What’s Next Pussy Cat” Jones photographing moss near the lake. Sax player Maia “Mad Reed” Dalager was fishing on Bone Lake. Singer Nancy “Power Serve” Norr was presenting to the board of directors. Drummer Andy “Phantom” Wold was trapped in the orchestra pit at the opera. Guitarist Steve “Blind Dog” Dalager was up to his hips in organic compost. And sound engineer Scott “Trespasser” Norr was trespassing near the West Fork of the Baptism River.

Long story short, Doug got the band together, and here are a few samples.

Stormy Monday. This was the service prelude. The recording is through the sound system here, and since sax and percussion weren’t miked, you aren’t quite hearing the real deal.

You got to move. This was the psalm.

Oh when the saints. This was the sending hymn.

She really really loved me. This was the postlude.

There was more, but that’s a decent sampling. Church blues are the next Corvair (unsafe at any speed), but the band had fun, and we made it to City Hall later, paid the taxes, and saved the orphanage.

That’s a pile of freshly screened compost. Sorry if you were expecting something else.

For about four years now, we’ve been composting yard and kitchen waste, and though you haven’t said it, I know you’ve been begging for a tour. Let’s start at Bin #1.

Bin #1 is where all the fresh stuff goes. You can see a lot of kitchen stuff right now. If the grass is heavy, then you’d see clippings. In the fall, you’d see leaves. In tea season, you’d tea leaves.

Bin #2 takes #1 stuff once or twice a summer. This summer I’ve been lazy, so this is the first time I’m rolling stuff over. It looks pretty much like Bin #3 - not as colorful as #1, and more earthy. Speaking of Bin #3…

Bin #3 is where it finishes cooking. I’m currently moving matter from here through my screening process and into that pile you saw above.

The stuff gets placed on the screen, and…

…I mash it around by hand. It’s a rather slow process, but it really creates some lovely stuff. Below are the leavings - wood, mostly, and a few rocks.

The screened mulch goes into our flower gardens, where if we’re lucky, the lilies survive the deer (that battle is another story)…

or our vegetable garden.

This is the west end in the morning. The fence is to keep the deer out, plus Sherry loves how it makes our house look like the Kettle’s. Right now, the beets are really coming. Got beets?

I’m reminded that I’ve got beets every time I use the facilities. Cucumber are also just starting.

The lettuce, spinach, and peas are done, and Sherry just cleaned out the last of the rhubarb (Hawaii can have its pineapples). Beans are in full force, with zucchinis and tomatoes (started from seed by Keith Brakke, thank you) right on their heels. Potatoes will come much later.

I can’t seem to grow onions, though. The plants grow, but the bulbs never amount to anything. Do I need more water? Advice, please.

Next year I’m getting crazy. Brussels Sprouts (it seems like one of those “S’s” in the middle of Brussels Sprouts is unnecessary waste; think I’ll petition my Senator; waste should be composted, not wasted).

Thanks for taking the tour. Stop by the gift shop in the way out.

Photographic Note: I bragged about our new CyberShot a few posts again, but these were all taken with our old Fuji Finepix. The display no longer works, and sometimes I have to press the power button three times to get it to come on, but it does tolerable. Why aren’t I using the CyberShot? Because my daughters have it, naturally. I’ll probably never see it again.

Scott and I set out on our annual August trip up the West Fork of the Baptism to reel in a mess of beautiful brookies, only this time Maia was coming with us (here is me in 2006 with a 13″ beauty). It’s rough trip - dragging the canoe (and this time a small kayak, too) through a series of small rapids to fish a series of pools - but truly the highlight of my summer. This time Maia was going to get to see this country, that, in our minds anyway, had only been seen by bear, moose, eagles, and GoogleEarth since we saw it last. And yes, she was going to reel in that mess of brookies.

That was all before the rocky track that is our only access to this stretch was suddenly blocked by a 24″ diameter birch log and a “No Trespassing” sign that was clearly targeted at us. There was no way that Scott’s canoe topped Caravan - the symbol of our rugged, outdoor lifestyles - was going to traverse this titanic cork in the road. The birch leaves were still partly green; the land owner timed it just for our trip.

“C’mon,” I pleaded. “We’re responsible nature lovers. We pick up our trash. We don’t over fish. I brought my daughter, for cryin’ out loud!”

No response.

When the teeth gnashing subsided, we somehow overcame the disappointment, and after some wrangling, decided to head about 45 minutes further north to Bone Lake, a lake trout lake also stocked with rainbows.

Long story short, Bone Lake was a beautiful paddle, but the fish weren’t interested in our spinners and crawlers. They weren’t even interested in the chucks of cucumber Maia plucked off her sandwich and tossed in. As you can see, though, there are some beautiful white pine on the shore. These were nearly logged to extinction a century ago, and are still pretty rare.

Wild raspberries were also in season, so we spent some time picking them for our berry queen back home. We looked for blueberries extensively, but it just wasn’t the right country for them. We also had lots of time to watch a young loon learning to drive with its mother looking on.

On the way out, we stopped along the East Fork of the Baptism where it crosses the road west of Finland. It’s a likely brook trout pool, but because it’s so accessible, also over fished. Nevertheless, I landed one small brookie and a perch. Maia, asleep in the van, never saw them.

It’s back to our Gazetteers to plot our next assault on the West Fork. In the mean time, it’s muskies on the Little Fork in September. Stay tuned.

Maia’s gorgeous head of blond hair was severely altered a few weeks ago when she decided to donate 8 inches to Locks of Love. Locks is an organization that makes wigs for cancer victims out of real hair. Her friends Ellie and Brittany were raising money for the American Cancer Society and organized a Locks of Love Root Beer Float event, which Maia couldn’t attend because of her acting career (her Theater Camp play was the same night). She, however, sought out Mary the Clipper and got her done anyway. Below is photo documentation of the event.

It starts withe a creation of a large braid.

Then it gets lopped off.

It’s a little creepy, isn’t it. Here she is now, lovelier even than before.

It’s probably something I’ll never do, but I’m glad she did it.

The whole project is part of a larger partnership between two churches - Gloria Dei and Trinity Lutheran - call Givin’. A number of young people have been given $100 each with which to make the world a better place (a la Oprah), and this is one of the projects. Maia’s own project is actually an awareness and fund raising campaign regarding the Darfur Genocide. She and her friends Chuck and Paul have joined a project called Tents of Hope, and they will be visiting various churches with a tent and a presentation about the genocide this fall to raise awareness.

Over the weekend, I sent my daughter off to Mexico for a semester. We were all at a family reunion near Bemidji, Celebrating my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary at Minnesota Nice Cafe. Here, Kylie and her boyfriend John rap for the happy couple.

“Yeah, it’s a 50″

“What?”

“-ith Anniversary.” (repeat)

After all of that emotion, Kylie, John, Sherry and I set out Sunday for the Cities. Monday morning, we left her at the airport at 5:00 a.m. for her 6:50 a.m. flight.

Surprisingly few tears were shed.

Here, the night before, they look surprisingly calm and happy. Who’s to say they weren’t? We’ve heard from her twice via Skype since she arrived, and things are going well. Even her luggage arrived - an uncertainty given they had only a 40 minute layover in Houston.

The good news for us is that we still have two daughters at home, so we’re not going to mope. Maritha, who you see here with her cousin Annika, has already started her stealth conquest of Kylie’s room. She commandeered a box and moved in a bunch of pictures and knick knacks. The trick now will be to figure out what to do with Kylie’s knick knack wealth. Where does all the stuff come from? Maritha clearly sees the beginnings of the empty nest syndrome as the opportunity syndrome. No teary goodbyes there.

Meanwhile, life went on back at Bemidji, especially for Maia, who caught the water skiing bug (probably the one that crawled into her uncle Jon’s ear).

At Grace Lake every summer, we have the luxury of having two power boats. My brother Nate has one and my brother-in-law Jon has the other. With Jon driving the boat here, she’s going for pure speed.

Here she is dropping her ski.

And now she’s up on the slalom ski.

Her mom decided to get into the act. Ducks on the pond.

Here they are together.

Check out the spray!

And now, for the parting shot into the sunset.

It’s clear now why so many Mexicans are emigrating to Minnesota, even if Kylie has emigrated (temporarily) the other way.

OK, this is pretty dull, but I just brought home the new camera, a Sony Cybershot.  Karl at Best Buy was pretty convincing.  Here are a few samples.

Still life with macaroni.

I like the way the carrots and broccli are menaced by the upside down and draining Ranch dressing.

New roof with ridge vent and other vents.

Do you think the chimney’s straight?  Or do we have a problem.  Love that flashing around the chimney.

Homecoming Queen and Father.

Definitely one for Facebook.

I guess it works!  Let’s hope I don’t have to use the $20 Best Buy service contract that I’ve already misplaced. 

My daughter, Kylie, graduated from high school over a month ago now. Since then, she’s already been to Europe and back, and right now is preparing to spend her first college semester atUniversidad de las Americas in Puebla, Mexico, departing two weeks from today. Needless, to say, I’m at a loss for words. For eighteen years, we’ve watched this person sprout, take root, grow, wither occasionally, and blossom often. We’re hardly done gardening, but this sure feels like some kind of monumental moment.

As I noted, I’m at a loss for words, and plan to grope for more soon, but for now, I’ll let her speak for herself. This is Kylie giving the sermon at Gloria Dei Lutheran church in Duluth, June 8, 2008. It’s about eight minutes.

Who knew my blogging hiatus would be noticed? Life got really wild in June and I got complacent living the unexamined life. Luckily, gentle bloggers Sarah and David have coaxed me back. I’ll begin with something simple.

I just returned from the Swenson family reunion in Willmar, Minnesota. I know you all want to hear about the relatives, but the most exhilarating thing about it was witnessing a tornado. I took pictures on my cellphone, but I’m just luddite enough that I haven’t figured out how to send them to myself. Lucky for you, gentle reader, there’s a ton of footage on YouTube already. I chose one here that’s both terrifying and brief.

There you have it. I wasn’t quite as close as this video, but my guess is it was about a mile south of our motel. A large crowd of Swensons were yacking in the motel lobby when a wet woman stormed into the lobby seeking shelter from the funnel cloud. I calmly announced that we should all seek shelter in the center hallway, at which point Swensons young and old grabbed their cameras and headed for the parking lot. A good time was had by all.

The ensuing damage tour revealed that damage was spectacular, but limited to things like trees, sheet metal roofs, and a few farm implements. The most interesting damage we saw was the roof of the turkey quonset. The turkeys, largely unscathed, remained looking up in wonder far into the evening.

Maia and Maritha were sufficient schooled in the terrible power of nature and the nature of our own fragile mortality. They also learned to remember their cameras for the next weather event.

I hope to be posting more regularly in the next two months, so I figure I’d wet your appetite. A preview of future entries looks like this:

• A father examines the milestone of a first daughter’s high school graduation
• Fishing on Lake of the Woods
• John Kelly: Man or Myth?
• Sasquach: Man or Myth?
• Yeti: Man or Myth?
• 50 years of my parents marriage celebrated
• Does a newspaper contain news? And is it made of paper?
• Some book reviews

That should keep you coming back.

P.S. I almost forgot. A young girl is reported to have been knocked unconscious during said twister, and upon awakening, claims to have traveled with her dog via twister to the Mall of America, where she purchased sweet shoes and learned that “There’s nothing like credit.” Her family and the hired men rejoice in her recovery.

My brother Karl sent me this interview with Enrique Peñalosa, former mayor of Bogota about redesigning our cities, and therefore our cultures.

Check it out.

Last month The Larrys played at the Blue Note Cafe in Canal Park on a Wednesday night. We played again this past Wednesday. I think we’re going to try to play there once a month, probably the first or second Wednesday. Elusive we are…

Here’s a sampling.

• All Along the Watchtower (Dylan)
  

• Spoons (Dalager)
  

• White Freightliner (Van Zandt)

Catch us if you can.