Monthly Archives: September 2010

Procrastination

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I should be doing my homework right now. In reality, I suppose I should have started working on it a few weeks ago. But, like any good journalist, I’ve procrastinated right down to the wire.

It’s just that my assignment is kind of vague and kind of daunting at the same time. I need to gather items – photos, clippings, stories, etc. that define who I am for compilation on a 15-inch by 20-inch foam board.

Most days I feel like I’m still trying to figure out who I am, and therein lies the daunting part. I don’t know that I’ve ever been asked to define myself, and I’m not quite sure how to go about it, I guess.

The photo part shouldn’t be too difficult. Everyone is somewhat defined by their family, right? Let’s see, I think last year’s Christmas photos haven’t made their way into an album yet – this might take a little digging!

4-H and FFA-related items certainly need to be included – they were a huge part of my child and teen years, and without either of those organizations I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

I should probably look for something “goat-related” to put on the story board.

A fishing lure has to be included, and maybe one of the hardanger Christmas ornaments I stitched last winter. I’ll need to find a favorite bookmark to represent my love for reading and, oh, I’ll definitely want to include my Honor Flight button – that was a huge part of my life earlier this year.

Relay for Life needs to be represented, and I suppose I could attach a business card or reporter’s notebook cover to represent my job. Gee, I should have blogged about this a couple of weeks ago – writing it down has made the ideas flow.

Right now, these things are just objects, but once I combine them all on a small piece of foam board, I guess it will define who I am, at least a little!

The assignment stems from a new adventure I will be taking part in over the course of the next 10 months. It is a type of leadership program – the U-Lead Advisory Academy – offered through the University of Minnesota, and will require me to travel for two or three days each month or so to a different location around our wonderful state.

It’s an exciting opportunity and one I look forward to, although I am a bit concerned about this first session. In addition to presenting our story board, we have to complete the Myers Briggs Type Indicator assessment. I’m not quite sure I want to see the results of that test!

Oh well, the session will also include a visit to a dairy farm, which I’m really looking forward to.

That reminds me, I better pack my boots … after I get my story board stuff compiled!

Sign me up AARP … in another decade

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It seems like my entire life has been spent wishing I was older. When I was a little kid, I wanted to be older than my brothers so I didn’t get picked on. When I was a teenager, I wanted to be older so I didn’t have to be in school.

When I was 16 and could finally drive a car, I wanted to be 18 and be able to vote; and when I was 18 and looking forward to college, I wanted to be 25, out of college and on my own.

I imagine there may be a time in my life when I wish I was younger, but that time hasn’t quite come yet.

And so, when an envelope appeared in my mail last week from AARP, I faced a bit of a conundrum. On one hand I should have been offended to receive such an invitation at the age of 39; and on the other, I was disappointed that I didn’t qualify for the cool free travel bag they were offering to new recruits.

I hope that offer still stands in another 10 years or so — owning an AARP card paves the way for some rather decent senior discounts.

My invitation to AARP came at a time last week when I’d heard one too many people complain about age. The final straw came in the newsroom, when one writer in a conversation with another writer said something like, “Well, she isn’t ancient — it isn’t like she’s 40.”

Just to be clear here, the discussion was not about me. It was just an innocent statement to be sure, but as the soon-to-be-40-year-old in the newsroom, I literally squirmed in my seat. Forty and ancient should not be muttered in the same sentence — that’s just wrong.

It’s funny how the concept of age changes as one gets older. I imagine at one time I may have said 40 was old, but as I creep ever toward the four decade mark, I think my concept of “old” has shifted. Actually, I’m thinking I don’t even like the word “old” any more. How about if we just go around calling everyone over the age of 90 an antique. That sounds a little kinder, don’t you think?

Anyway, my 16-year-old niece stopped by to sell me a magazine the other night and I told her about my AARP letter (also included were two hard plastic AARP cards with my name stamped in them). Had she been slurping a soda at the time, I’m pretty sure it would have ended up on my desk the way she chortled.

The AARP subject came up as I perused the magazine selections.

“Is ‘Travel + Leisure’ an old person’s magazine?” I asked. (Er, I mean an antique person’s magazine!) “I don’t want to be considered old, but yet I want to read about travel.”

I got the typical teenage shrug and the impatient just-buy-a-magazine look. After half an hour, I had it narrowed down to two: the travel publication and “This Old House.”

One will make me want to take a never-ending vacation, and the other will make me want to tear my house apart in a remodel.

Hmm, yeah, I went with the travel magazine. Once a month for the next two years I will get to read about the travel adventures of others, but at least I won’t be feeling old. Instead, I’ll be wishing I was older — retired with money to travel.

Waterlogged

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I’m not sure how much rain we have received in the last 36 hours – the rain gauge I bought at a quaint little shop along the North Shore a few weeks ago couldn’t hold it all. So, I guess it was more than five inches in my yard and, like many people across southwest Minnesota and northwest Iowa, a portion of it has ended up in my basement.

So much for a day away from the office to accomplish a long list of projects I need to get done! Oh well, I finished a few things on my list, in between sweeping water from one basement room into the other basement room where the sump pump was working overtime.

One thing I’ve realized today is that listening to the sump pump kick in every few minutes can be a rather soothing sound.

I considered myself rather fortunate to have just a half-inch or so of water in the basement. Many more in our region had much bigger messes to contend with, and for some it wasn’t just water.

Perhaps the most depressing thing about this rainfall is the timing. Farmers were just getting a good start in the fields to bring in what by all accounts is a bin-bursting crop.

Some of my farming friends had posted photos on Facebook by early this morning to show overflowing waterways, filled ditches and waterlogged fields. It’s rather heartbreaking to see the corn and soybean crops get so close to harvest, only to endure Mother Nature’s unpredictable wrath this late in the season.

I should have taken the time for a drive in the country today to survey the damage. Instead, when I finally got myself out of the house early this evening, I headed down to the lake for a walk.

Wow. I wished I’d had a camera with me. (Oh, I just remembered my phone has a camera – shucks! I keep forgetting about that!) A few of the docks, including a favorite I like to take the nieces and nephews to, were partially, if not completely submerged.

The brisk wind was sending waves crashing up against the rocks, and the spillway underneath the bicycle bridge was filled nearly to the top. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen the water that high in Lake Okabena. It was rather impressive.

After my walk, I returned home for one last battle with the basement for the evening, thankful that I don’t have carpeting on the floors and hopeful that the sun will shine tomorrow and we can begin to dry out.

A turkey test for our Turkey Day guests

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In honor of King Turkey Day today, I decided to put together a little quiz about our fine feathered friend, the turkey.

As most of you may know, the two-heat race between Worthington’s turkey Paycheck, and that other bird – Ruby Begonia of Cuero, Texas – determines who wins bragging rights for the year as the Turkey Capitol of the World.

I researched agricultural statistics, took a refresher course in the anatomy of my favorite fowl (I used to know this stuff when I showed turkeys as a 4-H project), and found a couple of interesting turkey trivia sites on the Internet to compile the questions below. (Answers are posted at the bottom … don’t cheat!)

1. Which state ranked first in turkey production in 2009?
a. Minnesota
b. Texas
c. North Carolina
d. Arkansas

2. Which county produces the most turkeys in Minnesota?
a. Ottertail
b. Nobles
c. Kandiyohi
d. Cook

3. The United States raises more than half of the world’s turkey supply.
a. True
b. False

4. The fleshy growth that dangles from the base of a turkey’s beak (it’s longer on a male turkey) is called the:
a. dangler
b. snood
c. snot
d. trunk

5. Who wanted to make the wild turkey the national bird, instead of the eagle?
a. Abraham Lincoln
b. Franklin D. Roosevelt
c. Benjamin Franklin
d. John Adams

6. Male turkeys have beards.
a. True
b. False

7. Approximately how many feathers does an adult turkey have?
a. One million
b. 2,500
c. 3,500
d. 465

8. What is a male turkey called?
a. bull
b. gander
c. rooster
d. tom

9. On what holiday is the most turkey consumed?
a. Christmas
b. Thanksgiving
c. Fourth of July
d. Valentine’s Day

10. How fast can a wild turkey run?
a. 40 miles per hour
b. 5 miles per hour
c. 25 miles per hour
d. It depends on who’s chasing it – faster if it’s the Paycheck Race Team and slower if it’s Ruby’s Race Team.

And the answers are…

1. a. (North Carolina was second, and Arkansas third. Texas didn’t make the top 10!); 2. c. (6.51 million pounds in 2002); 3. a. (271,084,000 head in 2009); 4. b.; 5. c.; 6. a. (the coarse hair can be found growing on their chest); 7. c.; 8. d.; 9. b.; 10. c.

Putting a little light in my life

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I’ve always had a love for old things … old houses, old barns, old furniture, old stuff and yes, even old people.

I’m not exactly sure when I realized this – perhaps when I was living in Redwood County and my best friend was living in New Ulm. Each time I’d drive there for a visit, we’d wander around town looking at the beautiful old homes and perusing the quaint antique shops.

So, it came as no surprise that I would fall in love with a house in Wabasso that was built in 1928. Under the shaggy green living and dining room carpet I discovered birds-eye maple flooring that, in time, was refinished to a beautiful sheen. Weeks were spent on my hands and knees scraping carpet padding and pulling up staples and nails. Wearing shoes around the house was a must.

I think even more appreciated than the original hardwood floors, however, were the wide baseboards and rich-looking wood trim, lead glass window and front and back porches that had wainscoting on each side and on the ceiling. Oh, I loved that house. If I could have moved that house to Worthington with me, I would have in a heartbeat.

It took a while for me to find “just the right house” in Worthington and, while I have to put up with the smallest bathroom ever, I have a home with character. I found a place where, underneath nearly every piece of carpet on the main floor, beautiful hardwood boards stretch neatly from wall to wall.

Sure, they need some work, but I can live with the imperfections. I’ve covered up the areas that are prone to putting splinters in my toes and, if I feel the need to explain my floors to guests, I simply say … they’ll get refinished some day. I don’t know when that some day is and, unlike most projects I tackle, I really don’t care when or if this one gets done.

In the meantime, there are other, smaller projects that seem a bit less daunting. One such example is my new lamp – my new, old lamp.

For years, Mom has been storing my Grandma Buntjer’s floor lamp in the basement of the farm house. She’d planned to refinish it “some day,” but I think most people know how those “some days” work.

Anyway, I’d been looking for a new lamp to replace my floor lamp in the living room. About a year ago, the dimmer knob broke off in my hand. I probably should have tossed it out, but I need good lighting for stitching my needlework projects and the lamp still worked. As luck would have it, the lamp had been on the brightest setting when the knob broke off.

A few days before my vacation was to begin last month, I asked Mom if I could have Grandma’s old lamp. Neither one of us were prepared for the condition we found it in. The cord was not just missing the plug, there were exposed wires along several areas of it as well.

Rust had formed along the top of the base, the milk glass shade was gone, and who knows where the big outer lamp shade ended up.

I’m fortunate to have a co-worker who is married to a virtual Mr. Fix-it. My lamp traveled to Avoca, where it spent a week being stripped of its original wires, getting a new main light bulb holder thingamajig and being fitted with a couple of new switches. In other words, my new, old fire hazard of a floor lamp was almost good as new.

Last weekend, I worked to sand off as much of the rust as I could, then spray-painted the lamp with the closest color match I could find at the local hardware store … antique white.

After a few coats of paint, finding an old milk glass shade at an Okoboji antique shop, and fitting the lamp with new light bulbs, I plugged it in for the first time tonight. Oh, what a beautiful old lamp!

After stitching under the light for more than an hour tonight, I’ve realized my new old lamp is much brighter than what I was using. Hopefully that will mean less eye strain!

The lamp is still missing a big old lampshade, but I don’t mind. I’ll find one eventually – looking is the fun part. I didn’t have any luck at the antique shops Mom and I visited along the North Shore a couple of weeks ago, but that just means I get to go on more treasure hunts.

I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, but I’ll know it when I see it. I want a shade that has character … just like my house.