Buffalo Gal

A very old song says in part, "..be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home." and it is true to me!   We have just landed at home after a brief sojourn to the Ozark Mountains of southern Missouri where we attended a conference.  The trip to and from was wonderful…lovely rural scenery all the way from North Dakota to the Ozarks….all the way to the end of Interstate 29 at Kansas City ("we got to Kansas City on a Friday.." (song from "Oklahoma") and then on several other 4 lane highways to the Ozarks and the White River country.  Spring is ahead of us in the Ozarks but there has been a lot of rain so crops are not even planted that far south yet.  We saw a few planted farm fields but in Iowa and South Dakota, the process is just starting.  The hardwood oak varieties that cover the Ozarks are beginning to bud and the grass is green, green, green!!  Cottonwoods and Poplars are in full leaf and people have planted flowers already in gardens and planters.  It was a joy to see such springtime beauty everywhere and the days were warm and sunny….as high as 90 degrees in Iowa yesterday!

I played my map game with myself again—searching the travel atlas for names of towns in states all over the U.S. this trip.  I love to hunt for strange names, pretty names, towns named for people, names of towns that you see in all the states and towns named for famous people.  This time I concentrated on the town names beginning with "Red" and there are a whole lot of them!!!  Here’s a few of the "Red" towns:  Red Cloud (Neb) Red Oak (in Iowa, Louisiana, Texas and Oklahoma, for just a few);  Red Bank, TN;  Red Lion and Red Hill in PA;  Red Rock, AZ; Red Bud, IL;  and for the "funny Reds"….Red Boiling Springs, TN, Red Lick, MO  and Red Jacket, W.VA.  I know I saw a town called "Red Head" but I couldn’t relocate it in the atlas the second time I searched.  I wondered if there were towns called "Blond" or "Brunette" but I found none in my brief search of the smallest print in the entire world…in the atlas listings in the back pages.  I got eyestrain from looking.

I now wish to award the "Mappie" awards for funny-name towns:  There are multiple winners this time.  The "Moving Air" award goes to Blowing Rock, NC and Windy Hill, KY. The "Whaddayousay?" Award goes to Yazoo City MS and Wahoo, Nebraska.  The "Caffiene Lovers Award" goes to Coffeeville and Hot Coffee;  The "Arsonist Award" goes to Panther Burn;  The "Hostility Award" goes to Kicketts and the "State Prison Award" goes to Correctionville and Reform.  The "Patriotic Award" goes to 3 funny- name towns:  Red Banks, White Apple, and Blue Mountain. The "You Gotta Be Kidding Me" Award goes to "Pure Air" which is town in northern Missouri in the close vicinity of several big confinement Hog Barns.  The "Strong Woman Award" goes to Amazonia. The "Gotcha Award" goes to BeeBeeVille.  And finally…. the "Big Mouthful Award" goes to these towns:  Yalobusha, Rollingfork, Eastabushie, and Leakesville (which also wins the "Corner of the Barn Award")

Wow, I worked so hard even when I was sitting down and just riding in the van!  I am going to have to investigate towns in Canada next time we travel somewhere.

It is nice to be home; the tulips are beginning to bloom, just in the five days we were gone;  it is the amazing power of the spring sunshine, illustrated.  The buds are bigger on the trees also. This is my favorite season of the entire year!!!  The Kitty Princess was extremely happy to see us again even though my good friend Fran visited her each day and babied her in my place.   Now I want to get that rototiller out and plant lettuce, spinach , onions and potatoes A.S.A.P.

I attended another banquet last night and heard a speaker who lives in Atlanta, Georgia. He told us that we talk "funny" up here so he tried to give us a lesson in grammar straight from Georgia.   It was short and simple and requires you to read  three words as they appear…DUCKS , NOT,  and WANGS…otherwise you say the letters you see which form words, Georgia-style.  Here is your lesson.  Try hard to get it.

MR   DUCKS

MR NOT!

OSAR!

CM   WANGS?

L I B !!

MR  DUCKS.

That was not so hard was it?     Try another lesson from Georgia…..once again the only words you say as you see them are MICE and NOT:

MR  MICE.

R  NOT!

SAR…CMBDI’ s??

OS…..MR    MICE! 

 I used up a lot of space and did not say much but I have a lot to do today!!!

I have a quote from Anne Frank that says a lot about how I think…."The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature, and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature."   

That works for me and right now I am impatient to get outside and do my spring things in  yard and garden beds on these beautiful days we are having, but I am "gimpy" from the knee tendonitis and my patience is being tried.  I should do what me kitty does; she sits peacefully on the deck and basks in the sun and enjoys the sights and sounds that she loves so much.  I would do myself a lot of good if I would rest the knee on a comfortable lounge chair that we have, and listen to the peaceful sounds of nature.  Yesterday two of our Canadian Geese were resting quietly on the greening grass of the old "ballfield" that our sons played many games of "autos" on in the 1970′s and 1980′s.  The geese had eaten their fill of fresh green grass blades and lay down to enjoy the meal and the sunshine. I got the binoculars and watched them…what magnificent birds they are and I marvel at the fact that they mate for life and never leave each other until one dies.  I also spotted our big doe who has raised twin fawns in the same place for so many years.  She came out and hid along the tree line and enjoyed a bit of fresh grass also but she never stays long…she is concerned about her babies and tends to them constantly.  Would that all human parents were so intense about the care of their babies and growing children!!!!

I have some others in my relationship that appreciate nature in an entirely different way but still they would appreciate Anne Frank’s thought.   Let’s talk about Paint-ballers for a minute.  We have some rabid fans of paintball games in our family and last Saturday they were out in the woods and fields challenging each other to paintball duels in full regalia, including weird looking face masks that make them appear alien-like.  I have concluded that this is a "sport" for young and still-young at-heart males; females just do not get a charge out of shooting paint-filled balls at each other to see if they can make one splatter on another person’s body.

There are paintballers everywhere it seems.  My sister who lives near the  Red River, was met on a walk by some young males arrayed in black shirts and pants, black masks and their paintball guns.  However she did not know they were paintballers and this unfortunate meeting on a walking path occurred within days of the horrendous Virginia Tech shootings and she was terrified.  Later her husband met the same 3 young fellows—neighbors no doubt— out for fun on a nice day in the woods along the river….and Sister’s hubby told them they had scared the bejabbers out of his wife. If she meets them again, she may not have such a reaction as the first encounter.  Paintballers ought to tip their masks to ladies out for walks and be nice gentlemen, in my opinion.  Maybe not wear the masks at all til they enter actual paintball combat with each other.

One thing for sure—-we residents of the plains, hills and the river valley are SOOOO ready to be outdoors enjoying , as Anne Frank said long ago, the Quiet, the Heavens, and Nature, as God intended us to do.   I am grateful for such a gift….even for those who love paintball.  

Personally I am waiting to pick my first bouquet of dandelions and get "dandelion milk" on my fingers which will then turn brown from the "milk".  It is a definite "Rite Of Spring" for me and a lot of others–mostly young kids but I still like to do it.  Now if I only had a bag (old sock) full of "aggies" and a couple of "steelies" and could find someone who remembers how to play marbles the old schoolyard way….that would be one of springtime’s sweetest ritual also.

"Do You Observe Earth Day?"  That was a poll question that appeared in today’s FORUM (April 23).   I am always suspicious of "one-day" events such as Earth Day which began sometime in the early 1970′s.  My answer to that poll question would be, if I could expand beyond "yes" or "no"…..Yes, I observe Earth Day every day and always have because that is what I was taught to do by my parents long, long ago.

My parents never spread trash around when we went on picnics or left the place a mess. Our family routinely "cleaned up our own spaces" anytime we used the great outdoors and we were a picnic-ing family most often out in the wooded areas or by remote lakes, sitting on a blanket with no picnic tables in sight.   I learned very early that you do not leave any place a mess but pick up after yourself.  That is a very small part of caring for the earth but it fostered an attitude.

Later as an adult I learned about composting through a gardening magazine…"Organic Gardening" and got into raising our own vegetables and fruits (without all the "cides" used in commercial agriculture.  Gardening has been another small way I have observed Earth Day for more than one day.

I am greatly concerned about the effects of the standard practices presently in  "Big Agriculture" which we see all around us.  The Red River Valley is the richest farmland on earth and what do we see being done it it?   It is annually soaked with pesticides and herbidicides in order to produce enough crops to support this new sort of non-traditional agriculture.  What is happening to our surface waters and our aquifers because of this sort of agriculture?    We experience horrendous spring floods because, in the name of Big Agriculture, all the sloughs and small ponds, (designed by the Creator, to catch and hold runoff and put water back into the deep aquifers,) have been drained to add a few more acres to the farmland.  We stupidly destroy our own environment for the sake of the almighty dollar.  The traditional family farm is mostly gone.  This surely not an observation of the principles of Earth Day.

I am greatly concerned about the effects on our soil and water of the enormous amimal feeding operations either in confinement barns holding thousands of animals or in huge feedlots.   Do we want to eat the meat from those animals that is full of antibiotic residue and hormones that produce fast growth?   Is this a good way to protect the earth and those who live on the earth?    Having seen first hand and knowing what others have experienced by living near these abominable huge animal feeding operations, does not fulfill my idea of observing Earth Day!

How about the enormous tonnage of disposable diapers in our landfills, just for one example???  If someone wants to observe Earth Day all the time, go back to cloth diapers— but do you think that will happen?   Observing Earth Day with all its ceremonies and rites might give people some sort of satisfaction and a good feeling, but continuing to participate in our version of modern day life is not going to protect the earth from much of anything.

Last night, I  had the pleasure of having a family member as a guest for conversation for a couple of hours.  I shall refer to this family member hereafter as "Dad" and the rest of the cast of characters as "Sister", "Brother" and "Siblings"!!  My realtive is the best of conversationalists and enjoys the fine art of doing it a lot.   In the course of our conversation, he revealed a family "Mystery" and a fictional mystery could not be better, in my opinion.

Some years back "Dad’s" daughter (Sister) had a large menagerie of pets, dogs and cats, bunnies and tropical birds, including several cockatoos.  Whenever the inevitable would happen…the event that all Pet Lovers dread….the death of a beloved pet…Sister had made a Pet Cemetery under a special oak tree on their home property and there all the deceased pets, who had been duly mourned, placed into their caskets (lovingly decorated shoe boxes, for the most part) and  would go to their eternal rest.    When Sister grew up and left home to work in a larger metropolitan area in southern Minnesota, the living pets went with her and she, to this day, continues to have a large, interesting, well-cared for, and much- loved menagerie in her own home.

Some time ago, one of the Cockatoos died after living a most happy life with Sister.  Her modus operandi now became the following:  put the body of the deceased (wrapped) in her freezer to await a time when she could return the body in its casket to the Pet Cemetery under the old Oak Tree.  (there should have been a big yellow ribbon around that oak tree..I hope there was but I do not know this detail).   When Sister’s Brother stopped at her home, she pleaded with him to bring the frozen Cockatoo home to Dad so he could bury it in the Pet Cemetery.  The male members of her family could not refuse this as they knew how much her pets meant to her, so Brother took the frozen bird back home with him.  Dad had been called and all the arrangements were made.  Brother would deliver the frozen corpse and its decorated shoebox casket to Dad’s place and if Dad was not at home, the funeral cortege could be left in the unlocked garage (all agreed on before-hand)

So when Dad drove into his garage that day of the body’s arrival, he saw the decorated casket sitting atop a home freezer in the garage,  and knew that Brother had delivered the body of the Cockatoo for it’s burial .  Being a good and faithful parent, Dad wasted no time in taking the little coffin to the Oak Tree Pet Cemetery and made a grave for the newest member of the deceased pets.  Having accomplished this, her returned to his home.

Later, Dad called Brother and told him of the burial.  Brother said, "Did you get the Cockatoo out of the freezer?"   Dad was stunned.  He thought the Cockatoo was in its casket. After some more clarification between Dad and Brother, Dad realized that he had interred an empty shoebox and went to the garage to discover the lovingly wrapped body of the dead and frozen bird.  This entailed a second trip to the Pet Cemetery;  also a necessary disinterrment, making Dad feel like a grave robber of old, placing the bird into its coffin and re-burying it in its little grave.  All was well that ended well after all.

Sister was probably not told about the Graveyard Mystery;  Dad and Brother swore each to secrecy (I think) and the Cockatoo lies in the Oak Tree Pet Cemetery along with a 3-legged rabbit who died of old age, several cats and dogs and a few other birds.  I didn’t ask if there are little grave stones there, but there should be , and when I see Sister again I may talk to her about it.  Maybe I will even go there on Memorial Day and bring some flowers to the Oak Tree Pet Cemetery after I have visited my own little P.C. at the foot of a hill near our home where "Freckles",  "Mac", "Trudi" and "Mikey" are lying side by side in their resting places at the Buffalo Ranch.

With the continuing news coverage of the V.T. tragedy crowding out most other news on the 24-7 channels  plus radio, regular TV, and all other forms of "media",  I have been thinking about the state of journalism in our nation.

It seems that true journalism has gone by the wayside in favor of sensationalism masquerading as journalism…at least it seems that way in many of the formerly respectable outlets…NBC, ABC, CBS et al.  The 24-7′s have always needed to cling to most anything that "breaks" in order to have enough to fill up their all day, all night  schedules.  My first introduction to this sort of sensational coverage came the summer of OJ and his flight in the white Bronco followed by the trial that went on and on and on and on……..ad finitum. The missing Chandra Levy was another introduction to media sensationalim and speculation. Now we have NBC showing the self-made video by the student who committed the mass shootings at V.T.  and NBC is getting shot at too…by critics who think they have gone too far.  Someone made a comment this morning (on radio) that the logical place for the shooter to send his package of video recordings was NBC since everyone knows that this media outlet has sunk into tabloid – type journalism and TV coverage. NBC took the bait and made copies of the tapes before passing them on to the proper authorities and it was not long before they "scooped" everyone with the horrific rantings of the killer of over 30 people…giving him the publicity he wanted even after he was dead, and, in the  process, giving fuel and fodder to other similar psychotic individuals who are among us, just waiting for their own moment of "glory".

So how has this happened?  Who’s On First?…the Chicken or the Egg?  Did the Media act as the "Egg" and begin tantalizing the public with the sort of hysterical converage that now passes for news?  Or are Americans so sickening-ly changed that we were the "Egg" and demanded this sort of bloody sensationalism?    Was it the constant coverage of the Vietnam War that whetted our appetite for violence and mayhem?  Is it the increasingly violent themes that come at us out of Hollywood or did we ask for it first?  Did we demand the violent video games that our young people now crave?  Or were they foisted on us by a marketer with a new idea?

I do not know what the answer is but the fact is  we now get violence served up to us every day on our news media and the more the better, it seems.  How did we arrive at this place in our history?  Is it going to get worse and worse with  upcoming generations?  I get a little sick  just thinking about it.

Oh what a beatiful spring day!   Two glorious days–April 17 and 18 —-and how precious the days are after our relapse into winter just a couple of weeks ago.

I have been sitting on the deck for two days…not the whole time, mind you, but frequently during the day when the sun is so warm and bright.  I check out my tulips from my crows’ nest position on the deck.  They had pushed through the soil in late March and then survived the snowstorm and the days we had single digit temperatures without getting frost-bitten or dying back. I am amazed at the little tulip bulb’s hardiness through all kinds of stress, icy blasts, and alternating warm days of sunshine.  I love tulips and am hoping that all of the many bulbs I have planted will bloom like crazy in due time.

I have listened to the sounds of the Buffalo Bluff….Canadian geese still fighting over territory, wood ducks calling as they return to the river bottoms and the wooded land; I hear the Meritcare helicopter go over the house and spot it flying west.  It always goes right over our house; it must follow the silver strip of Highway 10 when flying straight east.  I hear the small planes flying in and out of our little airport to the west; one benefit of living in a smaller community is that I can identify who is flying by the sound of the plane’s engine.  I know Tom’s the best because it has a real bass drone on his hydro-plane.. or what ever you call the kind that has skis and can land on  water.  IN the summer time Tom often flies down to his lake place during his noon hour and turns the sprinklers on or off!  

I have spotted the cranes in their northern flight!  I could hear their wild cries the other day and looked up to see a big flock of huge birds riding the heat thermals on Monday, April 16.  It was our anniversary and we had gone to help our custodian with some church cleaning . Then we went to eat out and as we stopped later for some ice cream, in the asphalted parking lots of the West Fargo shopping strips that have sprung up so recently….I heard the cranes and sure enough—there they were–flying north over Fargo and West Fargo.  They are such huge birds that you can see them plainly even when they are flying pretty high.  Wow! is all I can say about the migrating cranes.  I wish I could see another flock from my deck-sitting position these days.

Sitting in the sun has made me drowsy.  I should go to town to the library and also to the new grocery store I love so much,but I feel droopy from too little sleep after a very late meeting last night.  I might just have to drag the recliner out on the deck but I suppose if I napped awhile, I could get sunburned badly.  It can happen even in April on a nice day like today.  I better stay inside and catch a few winks.  (yawn)

They’re at it again….the Mainstream Media of the regular networks and also those of the 24-7 news networks are engaging in their usual second guessing and accusations when a tragedy such as the one at Virginia Tech happens.

On "Good Morning America" today, Diana Sawyer (a true Steel Magnolia, if I ever saw one) had the gall to ask the President of Virginia Tech if he would resign over the incident on his campus.  He wisely kept his "cool" and simply remplied that he certainly would NOT be resigning.  The idiotic implication by Sawyer that it was somehow the Presendent’s fault that this horror happened on his campus.

Almost as soon as the reports began coming in of the mass shooting yesterday, the talking heads were connecting the hot button issue of gun control to this incident.  Sometimes I wonder how supposedly educated and supposedly intelligent "journalists" can make such a leap but I suppose if you are dedicated to that agenda and cannot keep it out of your reporting, it will continue to happen.  I would ask the question that if one of the students or a professor in that classroom building had a legal handgun on their person at the time, a lot of bloodshed could have been prevented with one skillful shot at the perpetrator. But I am not holding my breath that any of the mainstream media would ever broach such a speculation.

The whole milieu of the worst of the mainstreamers is comparable to dancing on the graves of  the victims and thier grieving families even before the funerals and burials have even begun. What I wouldn’t give for some straight news reporting instead of the increasingly abundant commentaries that substitute for reporting the news.

The behavior of the Press can be nearly as ugly as the tragic events they purportedly "cover."

I read Mike McFeeley’s Sunday editorial regarding the stress of high school coaches because of parents of players.    It’s an old story….high school coaches have put up with the Monday Morning Quarterbacks for years but apparently it is getting worse all the time.  McFeeley cited two area coaches who have good records but are getting harassed by parents who think the coach did not play their little darling enough or is guilty of submarining all hopes for a college scholarship, ad nauseum.  The parents are demanding firings or resignations.

I recall the harassment of a colleague in coaching years ago when I was a teacher.  A good man was hounded out of a community for the same stupid reasons.  Not long ago, every coach on the staff at a not-so-far-away area town all resigned after a group of wrestling parents started holding pre-game "coaching" sessions in the boosters’ homes, in effect undermining all efforts of the school’s coaches of the team.  It was a huge Hoo-Hah and I cannot remember how it turned out but I knew what the coaches were going through having observed it at my own school. 

There is nothing uglier or more pathetic than an adult who has had no life after high school and takes out the frustration through his/her child’s accomplishments in sports.  The coaches also become a target for the supposed grownups who have not progressed past the emotional age of 12 or 13.  I also  remember sitting close by and watching an angry parent at a basketball game and I was sure this "fan" was going to have a stroke over the officiating.  McFeely’s editorial also mentioned the decline of people who go into officiating due to the abuse they endure from the "fans" at high school games.

McFeely’s observation that there will soon be a real shortage of coaches for high schools due to the abuse heaped on them by parents and then, school boards who do not have the courage to stand up to community pressure.  High school booster clubs will get what they deserve.

I do not often agree with anything having to do with the legendary Bobby Knight, he, who threw a chair across a gym at a U of Indiana basketball game and other such antics in his long career which is still in progress,  but his statement about the ideal coaching situation is one I can heartily support.  Bobby Knight said that the best place to coach is at an orphanage.   It would solve an amazing number of high school sports problems and the kids would probably thrive and succeed in their chosen athlietic competitions.

In the meantime we may see fewer and fewer young men and women choosing to go into any sort of coaching.

I listened to an interesting conversation today between and interviewer and an author who has written a book titled "Interviewing Your Daughter’s Date: 8 Steps To No Regrets". The author, Dennis Rainey, spoke about the special relationship a father has with his daugter and the desire to protect her from the ills of the world.  A father also has a special relationship with his sons but the daughter is different…she is his "little girl" even when she is more grown up and he wants to shield her from things he can control and one of those things is the boys who want to date her.  He can actually interview her potential dates and let them know how he wants his precious daughter treated.

I thought a lot about my own Dad when I listened to the interview.  He was born in the early 1900s…long before any child pyschologists had made their appearances, but he had so much knowledge and  innate wisdom acquired from his own parents that he  knew just exactly how to be a Daddy to his daughters.  He had that strong protective urge for my sister and me.  I remember once when I was about 20 years old, my college friend wanted me to come and stay a few days at her home in Buxton ND.  It was not that far a drive and I assumed my Dad would let me take our old 1956 Chevy to visit my friend.    Boy, did I find out that I was NOT taking that car to Buxton and I was  crushed and insulted.  I figured I was all grown up and was pretty hurt that he was so adamant about my not driving by myself to visit my friend.  He explained that he was not taking any chances with my being alone on the highways and byways and what if I had a flat tire or car trouble?  Of course that had not entered my mind and I kind of understood what he was saying but I was still feeling hurt and a bit resentful about his challenging my "adulthood" (or so I thought)

I realized many years later why he did that.  You have to be a parent to understand.  He did it for my own safety and for my own good and he was right.   When I got married at the age of 22, he had a talk with my future husband and explained to him how precious I was to him….he wanted assurance that he was turning his daughter over to a man who would take as good care of her as he (Dad) had done.  My young husband assured Dad that he would indeed take good care of me, and 45+ years later, my husband is doing what my Dad wanted him to do.   My Dad really loved my husband as his own son and I know he always felt good about his daughter "being in good hands".  When we named our first son after his Grandpa, he nearly burst his buttons!!

I feel strongly that a girl’s world view of the opposite sex is shaped very much by her own relationship with her Daddy.  I know mine was.  I am forever grateful for a Dad who was protective of me, who took me along fishing with him, who let me shoot his pistol occasionally under his careful supervision, who always provided for my needs in all ways but especially emotionally and spiritually.  What a wonderful gift he was!    My sister and I have such fun remembering our days with our Daddy.  We had him for nearly 87 years and are grateful for that, especially.

I remember one time so vividly when I was probably about 9 years old.  It was summertime and the evening was hot and sultry and there were storm clouds building in the west.  My mother was a very "Nervous Nellie" about storms, having been in a house during a tornado when she was a child.  So she was worked up and so was I because of it.  I fled to the garden where Dad was weeding the strawberries.  I expressed my fears about the storm and he looked up at me, smiling, and said in a most calm voice, "We can’t stop a storm from coming but we know that God takes care of us, no matter what."    That was all I needed. I went bouncing back to the house to comfort my mother with those words and she calmed down a lot too, knowing that she had upset me with her fears.   I cannot remember if it stormed or not, but I know that we were just fine and that lesson from the strawberry patch has stayed with me ever since.

The Daddy Factor is such an important part of a daughter’s life.