Buffalo Gal

“Lying through your teeth” is a well known adage among Americans. It is most often applied to politicians and their minions, I think. They seem to be the ones who are most glib and adept at lying through their teeth on any given day or hour or minute.
I think presidential press secretaries must be chosen based on their ability to look mildly at the assembled reporters in the White House Press Room and proceed to “lie through their teeth” completely destroying their own integrity…if they ever had any.
Today…. Jay Carney, the current Liar In Chief of press secretaries, actually kept somewhat of his “cool” when he got hammered by reporters asking him if there was a political motive behind the President scheduling his big “Jobs” speech and asking for a joint session of Congress at the same time as the next Republican presidential candidates debate takes place at the Ronald Reagan library in Simi Valley , CA. Carney said there was no connection between those two events. HAH!
Of course there is a political reason for the speech at the same time as a Republican debate! Does Carney think the reporters are stupid?
How do the Pols keep their teeth that they lie through so often? I think that lying through your teeth could have the same effect as what happens to the teeth of Bulimics who flood their teeth many times a day with forced vomiting. Their teeth turn black and eventually become rotten. Maybe a good check to see if a politician is honest is to look him in the mouth and check his teeth like good horse buyers do. If there are blackened, rotten teeth…WHOA! This is a lie through your teeth politician!!!
Another recent example or examples of “lying through political teeth” is the insistence that our huge debt and deficit are caused by the Entitlement Programs of which so many Pols are fond of and have added onto in nearly un-understandable multiplications over the years.
The ones being most blamed most recently seem to be Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid…although the candidates for Entitlement Over- Spending are so gargantuan it is hard to distinguish between them sometimes.

Byron York, a nationally known political writer, had a good op-ed piece on August 22, 2011. (“Spending, Not Entitlements, Created Huge Deficits”)
York cites a lot of facts to back up his contentions. And here are a few he wrote about:

“There’s no doubt federal spending has exploded in recent years. In fiscal 2007, the last year before things went haywire, the government took in
$2,568 trillion in revenues and spent $2,728 trillion for a deficit of $160 billion. In 2011, according to the Congressional Budget Office estimates, the government will take in $2,230 trillion and spend $3,629 trillion for a deficit of $1,399 trillion.”

Ah yes…entitlements do put a strain on the deficit amount..however……

Referring to the increases, York says,”Was there a steep rise in entitlement spending? Did everyone turn 65 and begin collecting social security and using Medicare? NO…the deficits are largely the result not of entitlements but of an explosion in spending related to the economic downturn and the rise of Democrats to power in Washington. While entitlements must be controlled, in the long run, Washington’s current spending problem lies elsewhere.”

York goes on to compare spending in various years for things like “economic security” (the addition of extra unemployment payments to those without jobs.)

IN 2007 spending for unemployment, food stamps and related programs was at $365 billion. In 2011, the same costs are estimated at $622 billion and that is an increase of $257 billion! CHA-CHING!
Medicaid in 2007 cost $190 billion in 2007 to $276 billion in 2007.CHA-CHING!
Then consider the “stimulus” which the Democrats put through when they came to power after Obama’s election in 2008.
“It was the specific spending excesses of Obama and the Democrats tha that shot the deficit into the stratosphere.” (Byron York)

That stimulus bill cost $814 billion increased every part of the federal budget and that is from Douglas Holtz- Eakin, former head of the Congressional Budget Office. CHA-CHING!

Today’s deficit crisis is not one of entitlements {as many Democratic politicians like to think}….”but it was created by out-of-control spending on everything but entitlements.” (B. York op-ed)
Yorks’final paragraph:

“This issue could be an important one in the coming presidential race. Should Republicans base their platform on entitlement reform or should they focus on the here and now—specifically, on undoing the damage done by Obama and his Democratic allies?”

We can certain that there will be a lot of “lying through their teeth” in the upcoming elections— but Americans are too smart to fall for those lies.
The current approval polls of President Obama are falling to new lows every day. The American people need to make their concerns known to their representatives—-often and in a most powerful way if our nation is going to stay afloat economically—-and morally.

Exactly one week ago, on Tuesday August 23, I was at the Johnson’s home…a working farm northwest of our place.
They asked my husband if he would take care of their calves and chickens while they had to be at the State Fair in St Paul. My husband declined on the grounds that HE was also going to the State Fair and that’s when I spoke up and said I could do it.
I have not been a farmer’s helper for over 50 years, The last time I fed chickens and gathered eggs and filled watering tanks at a farm was when I was still a pre-teenager staying at my Gramma’s farm near Rollag MN. And I did not have to do it alone—– and in the rain!
I could go with my Uncle Wally and help give the calves milk from the nursing pails and we could let the calves suck our fingers afterwards which was always a bit scary as the calves were very powerful suckers and I felt like my fingers were separating from my hands. But it was all fun.
Same thing when I went with either Aunt Bernie or Aunt Clarie to pick eggs and feed the hens. It was FUN to have the hens swarming around your legs when you gave them feed. It was FUN to find the eggs in the nests.
But doing chores for the Johnsons is serious business and I got some tips from the Johnson’s teenage kids who normally do the chores I am now doing. Becca told me about one “broody” hen who does not want to give up her eggs nor does she want to get off her nest. Becca told me I might have to use a shovel to get her to move but I should be careful not to break eggs with the shovel! Jeremiah told me how he had been attacked by the rooster once but if I gave him a kick he would stop it…just don’t punt him over the fence, he said.
The calves were supposed to be a cinch since all I knew I had to do was fill their water containers. But when I got there yesterday, there was a note about feeding the four calves some ground up grain. Nobody mentioned that two of the calves are smaller than two others and that the two big ones are bullies (literally) and do not want to share food with the small calves.
My first run was with my husband who had not left yet, so he fed the calves with me watching. He had to push and shove the big calves away from the small ones and the two big calves were a lot bigger than my husband!!!! He solved the bullying problem by separately feeding the two small ones, so today when I had to do chores solo, I went with a bit of trepidation.
The chickens were a piece of cake. I brought a lawn rake and showed those hens and the rooster my weapon. They all fled the hen house—- even the broody hen and the rooster. I had them intimidated and I picked a dozen eggs easily. I fed them and checked the water. All was well on the Western Front so I turned my attention to the four calves.
They were all placidly eating on a big round hay bale when I arrived. But as soon as I climbed the fence with my feed bucket,(also wearing my husband’s Wellington boots) the big ones came galloping. I gave each of them a hard punch on the head while I filled the feeder with half the grain. Then when the big ones were eating, I hand-fed the little guys who were eager eaters and kind of bullied each other for the chance to eat the most from my bucket. A few pushes and punches worked again and they both got equal portions. The two big ones noticed what was going on behind them and came over to get more food but I out-bullied them again with some head punches and eventually everybody took a good drink and went back to the hay bale. I was kind of hampered by the big Wellington boots but I did not want to get manure muck on my old shoes so I wore the clumsy boots and thankfully I did not fall over in the calf pen.
I think I can handle my few more days of being a farmer’s helper.
My confidence has expanded..just like the blasted rooster who had to crow loudly at me after I left the chicken pen.
I might crow back at him tomorrow!!

Our group from Silver Sneakers went on an outing after class today—we went on a big pontoon boat and traveled the shores of Big Detroit Lake.
It is most interesting to see the houses and cabins along the shore of a big lake..you cannot see them from any roads usually. But you can see from the lakeside view and you can tell a lot about the homes and the people.
I object strongly to what I call “town lawns”—the perfectly groomed, bright green grass stretches that have been mowed to perfection and (ALAS!) most likely fertilized with nitrogen and other lawn chemicals that get into the lake water. It is obvious what this seepage into the lake does–Big Detroit’s shores and beaches are plagued with weed growth–especially one species of reed grass, the name of which I cannot remember. But the DNR is now resorting to using weed killers in the lake water to get rid of the reed grasses! ARGHH! Lakes used to be clean and beautiful…not anymore with all the chemicals being dumped or seeping into them. Many areas and especially bays look like green pastures of long grasses. It is unsightly.
I also despise the cutting down of big trees in order to have NO trees in front of a house or cabin! It is too unnatural along a lakeshore. But there are plenty of places with big open clear-cut town lawns!
I love true “lake lawns”..the ones that have big old growth trees left standing and the grass is probably just native grass that is kept mowed…mostly. I saw a few shore places where the natural willow trees that grow by water had been left in place to droop down over the water. It was so lovely and so natural!!!!
People also have docks and landing piers along the shore. There are so many crowded together in some places that they are unsightly nuisances—almost like looking at a city alley full of garbage can holders with the cans in them. There is so much affluence on display along the shore—–big boat lifts and boat shelters….multiple boats parked in all those unsightly “boat garages”. Some places have 1. a big speedboat 2. a big pontoon 3. a canoe 4. a kayak 5. a catamaran sailboat 6. an ordinary sailboat 7. a smaller fishing boat 8. a diving platform anchored in front of docks…some with large watger slides in bright plastic colors!!
There is little or no beach that shows at those kinds of places.
We live in a free country where people can have all the boats or homes or cottaqes they can. Many lots croweded into small beach fronts is not too attractive either but that is mostly how developers have made a lot of money–selling many small lots where people have to look in each other’s side windows.
Who knows? Maybe the time will come when it all will return to its orginal beauty……but the big mansions, the huge watercrafts and the huge boat launches et.al. will have to disappear first.
Will it ever happen?????
PS on August 31: I forgot one thing yesterday about Big Detroit Lake: it is filled with families of Canadian geese who use the docks of the people to sit on, relax on and POOP on. I nearly stepped in a huge “goose pile”
at the landing dock yesterday. Geese poops are as big as dogs or cats’.
Another unfortunate minus to lake living. We saw hundreds of geese yesterday.
We also got up close to many fishng loons….we saw two young ones with their mother and the chickes are really big but are not marked yet with the loon coloring…they are still gray and drab …but HUGE!

Ole to bus driver: Does this bus go todaloot? (Duluth)
Bus driver: No this bus goes “beep beep”!
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We traveled with one son and his wife “to daloot” this past Friday and it was another wonderful time at my favorite Minnesota destination. Duluth can be really ugly if it is cold or rainy but we hit a beautiful two and a half days of sunshine and warmth in that air conditioned city. It was so nice to be there and we mostly stayed at Canal Park waiting for a huge ship (big barge) the “American Integrity” to come through the canal and go under the lift bridge into the harbor. It was a thousand feet long. An inland seaport just blows me away. I love big ships and even the smaller tall- masted sailboats we saw going under the raised bridge a number of times over the two days. It was worth the wait when the “Integrity” passed through the canal about 3 p.m. on Saturday. The two sides of the canal walkways were filled with other ship-watchers like us. Huge vessels must be a source of fascination for many people.
Canal Park is such fun….so many things to see and do or just to sit on the grassy areas and watch the big gray seagulls that fly hopefully waiting for someone to bring old bread or popcorn for them. Children squeal with delight at the gulls flying and landing there. Pedal bike/sedans are endlessly coming and going with from 2 to 5 or 6 people on board with several people peddaling the double set of bike pedals. I cannot even remember how many of these pedal bike rigs we watched go by us. There was constant riding of bike rigs all weekend. It is really a family place–Canal Park. We did our bit by standing in long lines for ice cream cones at “Grandma’s Boxcar”…along with a lot of others. Minnesotans are talkative to strangers…we had a lot of good conversations with a lot of other people frequenting Canal Park like we were.
We went to Park Point Beach the first afternoon where we all ventured into the waters of Superior. That water still feels like ice could form around you. Only our son got himself totally wet but he did not stay submerged for long! My feet went in but I lost feeling in them in such a short time it was nearly unbelievable especially when the sun was so hot on our backs.
We made a point of eating breakfast at “Takk For Maten” (Tahk for Mah-ten: “thanks for the food”) a Scandihavian place on Superior Street close tp the avenue that takes you to the waterfront. I ordered a “Scanahoovian” special and ate french toast (norwegian toast?) made with cardamom spice in the milk and eggs. The special also included a hard- boiled egg and crisp thick bacon pieces AND a big muffin plus all the coffee you could want! It was another of the many delights we had in Duluth and I did not get hungry for a very long time after that meal.
“Father Time” antiques was another good destination…I think there must be over a million small items in that place. I saw so many things that brought me back to my childhood—-dishes and glasses, lamps, chairs, pins and other jewelry…toys and pictures, clocks, endless old items. I even bought two sets of older clip or screw-on earrings since I am only one among ten women in MN who have not pierced their ears.
Today my feet feel the effects of a lot of walking on hard surfaces in “Todaloot” but is was worth it. We also got to spend time with the two Sartell grandkids who are growing and maturing faster than we want them to do!!!! They started school today (Monday) at the St. Cloud Christian School.
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I am having some conflicting emotions today (Monday). One schoolmate from high school days will be buried at a country church near us after a seven- year long illness that took her through many surgeries and treatments for cancer. She was a very kind woman who I knew pretty well when both of our families were in a 4-H club in the ‘Seventies when our club got a trip to perform at the state fair in St Paul. It is a beautiful memory of shared time long ago when our children were still young–now they are all adults with families of their own. The death of a friend your own age is always a toughie….we are mortal and vulnerable every day of our lives. I feel deeply sad for her family today and know that they will have a long time of adjustment to her being gone from them.
Another schoolmate of that same era is dying slowly in a nursing home from C.O.P.D. lung disease. She is hanging onto life but just barely. More reality checks. There will be another burial in due time for her. I knew her well and also her siblings with whom I played a lot as a kid. The march of time brings us up short fairly often in these later years of our lives.
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I have to go and do my jobs as a farmhand today—- and the rest of this week. I agreed to do this for our friends (the Johnson family) while they are at the state fair showing registered shorthorn cows (milking shorthorns). I have to keep the water tank filled for 4 calves and also feed, water, and collect eggs from the small flock of hens. Unfortunately for me–there is also a rooster who does not like people he is not familiar with…and I have also been warned about one “broody” hen who does not like to give up her eggs. I was advised by the two teenagers to bring a big stick to deal with the recalictrant fowls….Becky uses a shovel to get the broody hen off the nest but she said you have to really know what you are doing or you will break the eggs. I think I will walk softly and carry a VERY big stick in to the hen enclave.
Wish me good luck—I have not done chicken chores since my days on my Grandma’s farm in the 1940s and early 1950s.

I have heard some words that are (I think) associated with High Tech. devices and such. They do not mean much to me but I have defined some of the ones I have heard about.
Here is my own definitions of high tech for dummies words:

SKYPE: a bird. relative of the elusive SNIPE which was hunted at night by teenagers holding burlap bags along country roads. SKYPE hunting is picking up in popularity.
TWEET: what birds do in the early morning
TWITTER: also what birds do in the early morning.
FACEBOOK: a large heavy tome in which you press your face; this is the low- tech way to get rid of wrinkles for some people, both male and female.
BLUETOOTH: Bluebeard’s older brother.
BOOT SECTOR: part of an overshoe; as in the heel or the buckles or the zipper.
BOOT SEQUENCE: lining up the winter boots in the back hallway.
CONFIGURATION: what Judges in the Miss America Pageant do when the bathing suit category parades the runway.
DEFAULT: a crack in the earth where earthquakes happen
DITHERING: What Dagwood’s boss’s wife Cora does every day.
ERGONOMICS: a college major, offshoot of Economics
FLOATING POINT: Girls who wear bathing suits with sharply outlined padded bra tops look like this when floating on their backs.
ENCRYPTION: the burial of Mummies in their Pyramids.
GRAYSCALE: the stuff that comes off the sides of your dehumidifier
HARD COPY: obelisks with words carved on them; i.e. the Ten Commandments that Moses got on Mt Sinai
INTERLACED: high top tennis shoes that are tied up with a bow at the top.
GIGAHERTZ: injuries that make you giggle
MEGAHERTZ: really big injuries
KILOHERTZ: injuries that just about make you die.
MULTIPLATFORM: a three story wooden stage built for epic plays by Shakespeare
PIXEL: what you call three or more Pixies
SPOOLING: When alot of spit collects in your mouth and it begins to drain out the sides of your mouth, as in “you are spooling all over your shirt”
ANDROID: The companion raggedy doll to Andyroid
CURSOR: one who uses really dirty words.

The London DAILY MAIL has an interesting news report on August 24,2011.
Sometimes we have to get our news about POTUS and FLOTUS from Britain because the Mainstream Media in the U.S. is on their campaign team and does not report unpleasant things that would anger U.S. taxpayers.
But the MAIL ( and a few other British newspapers) is fearless in telling what the FIRST COUPLE are up to and how much they spend of our hard earned tax dolllars.
“The Obama’s summer break in Martha’s Vineyard has already been branded a PR disaster after the couple arrived four hours apart on separate government jets. (Also with separate motorcades of many vehicles)
But according to new reports, this is the least of their extravagances. White House sources today claimed that the First Lady has spent 10 million of U.S. taxpayers’ money on vacations alone in the past year.” (London DAILY MAIL, August 24, 2011)

Well—- we knew what she did on her vacation to Spain last summer…without her husband– but with her daughters and a bevy of personal friends.
According to the WH “sources” Michelle Obama has been gone on vacations for a total of 42 days this past year, including a $375,000 break in Spain and a four-day ski trip to Vail Colorado where she spent $2,000.00 a night on a suite at a trendy hotel.
The current vacation at the Blue Heron Farm on Martha’s Vineyard will cost $50,000.00 per week.
The inside the White House source (unidentified of course—-someone does not want their heads chopped off or the job jeopardized) also reported that…

“she (Mrs Obama) is disgusting and a vacation junkie; they say the 47 year old mother of two has been indulging in five-star hotels where she splashes out on expensive massages and alcohol……..it is disgusting…Michelle is taking advantage of her privileged position while the most hardworking Americans can barely afford a week or two off work.”

Even their cheerleaders in some of the liberal media have criticized their luxury vacation on Martha’s Vineyard at a time when America is experiencing an economic crisis on all fronts including job losses and stock market plunges. I guess the Obamas believe in Marie Antoinettes’ adage: “Let them eat cake”!!!!

More quotes from the WH souce: “Michelle enjoys drinking expensive booze during her trips. She favors martinis with top-shelf vodka and has a taste for rich sparkling wines.”

Michelle could end up enrolling in another First Lady’s project: The Betty Ford Center For Recovering Alcoholics.

More info from “the source”: President Obama has been enraged by his wife’s spending habits. She has gone on wild spending sprees to buy high fashion clothing and accessories. “the president is absolutely furious at his wife’s out of control spending.”

I guess FLOTUS is just following the example of our wild-spending Congress of the past 2 years. If you don’t have any money…spend more anyway. That seems to be Congress’s motto.

I am glad the British news sources have the guts to publish such information for the benefit of American taxpayers who are being shafted by the current First Couple.
They (the Obamas) are, no doubt, laughing all the way to every vacation and every spending spree at the expense of American taxpayers. Their choices of sites and their spending habits reflect a desire to be part of the “Northeastern Elites” and they seem determined to get all they can while the getting is good.

Not Miley Cyrus…is that her name? The pop singer? No, this Miley is a milking shorthorn cow and she LOVES our friend Jeremiah! Our friends on a farm about 7 miles away from the Buffalo Bluff, raise registered milking shorthorn cattle. Jeremiah is the son in the family and when he was a young boy…he raised a calf and named her “Miley” with no prompts from anyone–he liked that name and Miley she was. The calf and the boy spend a lot of time together so Miley became like a pet dog around the boy…she loved him and he loved her. But as all farm boys learn along the way, the time comes when your calf is grown up and ready to join a herd of milking shorthorns and Miley did just that. She still lives on a farm north of the family who raised her and she is a productive “milker” now.
The real love story is about the time after Miley had been at the other farm for quite some time; Jeremiah and his Dad went to “Miley’s farm” on some business but when they got to the pasture where the cows were grazing—one big cow bolted from the herd and came charging toward the men…..it looked like she was headed straight for Jeremiah and there was momentary alarm that he was about to be trampled by a truly charging cow. But the cow screeched to a stop right in front of the now- teenaged Jeremiah and it was—–Miley!! She had remembered the boy who loved her and she still loved him and wanted to put her face close to his. True love never dies—even in a milk cow and a boy who raised her to adulthood!
Today I am embarking on a new adventure. I have volunteered to be the one who fills the water tanks for 4 calves and also goes to the henhouse to pick the eggs. Jeremiah and his family are going to the State Fair in Minnesota next week to “show” some new shorthorn calves and cows. They need someboby to keep the water tank full for four calves and the hens lay eggs that need to be picked each day so I am going to do my best. The water tanks will be a piece of cake. The hens and their eggs?…. I have been warned about one hen who does not want to get off her nest and does not want to give up her eggs. She is a “broody” hen apparently. I do remember about “broody” hens from my days in summertime at my Grandma’s farm in the 1940′s when I was the young child. Jeremiah’s sister, who usually does the henhouse work..is going to show me this afternoon how to get the broody hen off her nest. She said it usually takes some sort of weapon..but not a shovel— because eggs can get broken with that particular armament. She also said it works if you grab the hen by the neck and pull her off the nest but I do not think I am up to doing that.
I am thinking of borrowing some baseball boy’s catcher’s mask and wearing protective clothing and thick gloves into the hen-house. But I WILL prevail—no broody hen is going to get the best of me!!!! I may have to dress like a medieval falconer to get the eggs in the henhouse but whatever works best—–I am willing and hopefully able.
It will be an interesting week coming up with me on calf and henhouse duty for a few days. I think I will be doing it solo as my husband wants to go to the fair also. He loves “Machinery Hill” and the livestock barns—especially the big draft horses like the Percherons. He may get in on “Draft Hourse Day” and perhaps even get to the Hippodrome for some more horsey things.
I have decided my days at the hot fairgrounds in
St. Paul are behind me. I will pass up the walleye-on-a-stick and the greasy pronto pups and all the dairy stands with their malts and shakes and sundaes. I would like to see the butter sculpture of “Princess Kay of the Milky Way” but perhaps my husband can get a close up picture of the butter sculpted head of the currennt Dairy Princess.
I will be very sad if the Minnesota Pork Queen is at the fair and I miss her……Pork Queens are very special.
Oh well…another close up picture I suppose.

When I was part of the youth of this nation I loved the summertime fairs and small town carnivals that were a big part of our scene. In our small town the Art Thomas Shows would usually be engaged for a several- day carnival with the midway rides…the carnival booths with the floating duckies and the bottles that could be hit with baseballs..all for prizes like the cheap cupie-dolls of a past era. There was most likely a heavy sledgehammer spot where the muscled males would try mightily to ring the bell at the top with a sledgehammer blow to the bottom part of the display. I remember sayings on the upward bar like “weakling” if the blow only raised the riser a little bit….there were other sayings along that upward bar too—–”he’s no He-Man!”….”Try again and hit it harder” etc etc. There was usually a freak show tent with tantalizing posters of the “freaks” within….the baby with two heads…..the man with no bones…. the five legged calf—the bearded lady..always a bearded lady. I was too turned off by the weird posters to be tempted inside that tent. If it was good carnival there was a Fun House or a House of Mirrors that made your image about as crazy as it could be made…one would have you all too long in the chest with a little bottom and another mirror would do the opposite….you would have a looooooooong half body and a strange shortened head and chest. I remember the shrieks and laughs coming out of both the Fun House or the House of Mirrors. The Fun House often had moving floors which made walking very difficult.
There had to be a carnival photo booth…the place where three or four friends would cram themselves in at the same time and get 4 pictures in black white and gray…usually lit by the brightest of lights making your faces look white and if you had put on red lipstick for the photo, you had black lips!!!! We always smiled for a couple of shots but always had to make one shot with the worst faces possible….and one with sober faces. There was a lot of shrieking and laughing around the photo booth too. I recall one shot of my girlfriend holding a huge blob of cotton candy in front of her face so only her bugged out eyes were visible. It was the perfect carnival picture!!!!
Eating carnival food was part of the adventure too. Cotton candy…sweet sticky clouds of pink or white on a paper cone; greasy hot dogs with relish and mustard and catsup, “pronto pups” (hot dogs on a stick deep fried in a coating of corn meal batter..the greasier the better! You had had to eat a caramel apple too…and probably some ice cream or a milk shake or a malt…and popcorn!!!! More than one box!!!
All the carnival food often had a devastating effect when the Eater went on a wild ride with a stomach full of carnival food. One year at a late summer carnival my girlfriend and I got the idea that we should ride on the Octopus–one of the violent rides on the midway. But we talked one of the high school teachers into going with us. He had been the high school English teacher and he was a delicate man, thin, frail- looking and with a small thin voice. He was a nice man but his students had done everythihng they could to make him blush because they found out early on that he DID blush…very red and very long when he got flustered or embarrassed and of course high schoolers became masters of making a teacher blush–if that was a weakness.
But this teacher agreed to go with us in an Octopus car and the wild ride began. It was an Octopus with double seats on each arm and there was a young couple in the one next to ours.
We had not circled more than twice when the fellow in the next seat began to vomit violently—he spewed it violently like an erupting volcano—-it was spraying his girlfriend and we noticed flying vomit going by our seat. “DUCK!” my girlfriend yelled as we were in danger of getting vomit sprayed also. All the cotton candy—hot dogs—caramel apples—popcorn the guy had eaten was leaving his ailimentary canal in great spurts of vomit. His girlfriend was coated with the stuff and she was screaming at the Carnies to stop the ride but they were having a smoke and talking and did not notice the vomit-express flying by them on regular turns. The three of us—two teenage girls and the high school teacher…crouched on the floor of the Octopus seat as vomit flew over our heads. The ride finally ended and the poor girlfriend had to almost carry her sick boyfriend off the Octopus ride. What do Carnies do with the vomited-in cars of violent rides?????? I never found out because I had enough of the carnival for that night. I went home as fast as I could after I got off the Octopus.
Fairs had the added attractions of having a Grandstand Show each evening. I remember seeing “Bebe” Shoppe, Miss Minnesota in the late 1940s at a Grandstand Show at the Clay County Fair.
The animal barns were also interesting because it fascinated me that the 4-H-ers would sleep with their heifers, chickens, pigs or rabbits…on bales set up by the pens with sleeping bags or blankets and pillows all ready for the night. I also liked seeing the things the 4-H girls had sewed…I envied their skills at the sewing machine and the nice dresses, suits and coats they made for themselves.
AT the Fairs and Carnivals teenagers could meet kids from other towns…always far more interesting than your hometown kids who seemed pretty run- of- the- mill compared to the teenagers from Barnesville or Pelican Rapids or Glyndon or Hitterdal or Ulen. We were drawn to each other like flies to honey. Many summer romances with a guy or girl from another town began at the Fair or the Carnival.
Sometimes the carnival time would also feature a street dance—another sure- fire draw for the teenagers of our day. It was not easy dancing in your saddle shoes or white bucks on paved asphalt roads but we managed to clump around with each others’ arms wrapped around shoulders and waists.
It would mean a lot to smell the foods of the carnivals and fairs again—to hear the tinny music coming out of the merrry-go round, to see the bright lights of the Octopus, the scary Ferris Wheels and the tilt-a -whirls again….to feel and breathe in the soft summer night air, ripe with carnival aromas and the sounds of the rides and the people’s screams as the Ferris Wheel took them up backwards to the top point where it would stop and rock your seat for a few terrifying moments. You could see all over the midway and the town…you could see out into the surrounding countryside.
There was nothing quite like the summer carnival or the county fair. It brings back a wealth of memories.

Today was a very fine day spent with a group of good friends who first met each other about 2002 when we formed a group known as the Red Hat Ladies of the Lakes. We have had a lot of years of fun and friendship and today we celebrated…..went to Itasca Park and sailed on the “Chester Charlie II”—-a big cruise craft that took us around Lake Itasca’s “arms” and finally to the source of the Mississippi River—from the lake side view of that historical place.
It was the most gorgeous summer day…in the forests and on the water. Afterwards we all went to Douglas Lodge and ate lunch together….and we told stories around the “round table” and we laughed til our sides ached and our face muscles got stiff!!!
We always manage to laugh a lot…..we have so many good stories to share, often about our children when they were young. All of us now have adult kids and young—to-young adult grandkids. But we have long memories of our children and their antics when they were young and so were we!!!
Today we heard several true stories from the past. Nancy of Strawberry Lake started the laugh riot with a story about her daughter as a first grader. Nancy was working on supper in her kitchen when her daughter came up beside her and asked…
“Did Daddy fertilize my egg?”
After receiving a slight shock by this question, Nancy recovered and was able to say, “Yes,Honey, he did fertilize your egg.”
“Oh good” the little daughter replied, “we are studying about chicks and eggs in school and those eggs have to be fertilized by a father so I was just wondering about my egg and my Dad.”
Subject closed. Nancy relieved.
Then there was the tale of John—-the only 2 and a half year old to be expelled from his day care/ preschool. John decided that day dare and preschool were boring so one day he simply left the building (unseen by the adult in charge) John knew where he was going..he knew where his Dad worked…at the Wahpeton State School of Science and he knew the way to get there so he purposively headed for the campus, crossing streets in the process and also finding a stash of empty beer cans in a school parking lot. He stopped to gather up the beer cans and proceeded to his father’s office where his startled father did not expect to see his child til later in the day when he was to be picked up from day care. Meanwhile back at daycare John’s great escape had been noted but nobody knew where he had gone. In a panic, a call was placed to John’s father who said he knew about John because John was in his office at that very moment. Great relief at the daycare.
John’s father told him that he was going back to day care and John protested loudly saying he didn’t need any daycare because he could take care of himself just fine. That did not work so John went back to daycare but not without his beer cans which he insisted on bringing along with him. The teacher told John he would have to store them in the closet so this was done. But that afternoon the Pastor of the sponsoring church of the daycare paid a visit and happened to open the closet door . The emtpy beer cans came spilling out onto the Pastor’s feet and he looked at the teacher and said (with a sly smile) “Ah Mrs.——- so this is how you get through your long day with so many small children to take care of!”
That afternoon when John’s mother came to pick him up a decision had been made. John was expelled from daycare as of that day. Fortunately for John’s parents a generous neighbor who had 7 sons…one the same age as John…took him in and everything weorked beautifully after that one bad day. That mother of 7 boys had seen all the tricks boys can play and even John could not pull any wool over her eyes.
Then came the tale of another young son who had just begun his kindergarten year. His mother (one of our groupies of a certain age) asked her son how it was going in kindergarten and the boy replied brightly, “It is great Mom. My teacher says I’m a Fairy”
Now back in the 1960s that word had a special meaning to adults. Mom asked what he did to be a Fairy and the son said “I am the Good Fairy when we have a fire drill and I get to turn off the lights and close the door”.
A lot of those good brain chemicals that make you feel well were flowing around our round table!

Itasca Park—-the first of Minnesota’s state parks—is a real treasure….acres and acres of well-managed old growth forest and lakes. The waters in Itasca are some of the cleanest in the state due to careful care for keeping the normal pollutions sources at bay(oops a language trick not planned). Wild rice abounds in the lakes there.
Hearing once again about the many-year search for the source of the Mississipi was fascinating. 19th century explorers were obsessed with finding the source of the “Father of Waters”. What is most interesting about the search for the Mississipi’s source is that the Native people…the Objibwe..knew where it was all along and it was a Native guide who showed Henry Schoolcraft where the small stream left the lake. The Objibwe people should be credited with “finding” the source of the great river. I wish I could remember Schoolcrat’s guide’s name..he was an Ojibwe chief with a hard to spell Ojibwe name and I did not pick up a folder at the visitor’s center…it had his name there.
Several good maps and excellent relief maps of the Itasca area and of the whole United States shows how many rivers are involved in the Mississippi’s wending way to the Gulf of Mexico. The watershed system in Minnesota alone looks like a picture of capillaries and arteries in the human body…it is massive just in the state of Minnesota.
The perfect Creation is a marvel..and you can see a lot of it in Itasca Park.

The August Garden is quite a contrast to the June Garden. In June the garden speaks about hope and future crops…or future flowers if it is a flower garden.
June gardens are usually weed-free..partly because not all the weed seeds have germinated… yet. June gardens are carefully tended by enthusiastic gardeners who have not had too much heat, humidity or biting insects..yet.
June gardens are filled with promises of things to come.
Small sprouts in rows look cheerful and healthy. The soil between the rows or around the flowers is still a rich brown or black, still dug up and looking fresh. It is a lot like a 16- year old girl who is fresh- faced and eager to start each day….the June garden soil is like that.
Then comes July and August and things change in the gardens and in the gardeners.
The cheerful fresh yellow coreopsis daisies of July began to dry out and if the Gardener is not out there “heading” them really often…they become rather sad and decrepit by August.
The gorgeous Asian lilies of mid- July have gone to seed and are just marking time in an August garden. The lupines have made their brown seed pods by August and are not very good looking as they were in early July or late June.
August gardens often have brown leaves, slightly rotted tomatoes if the blossom- end rot has taken hold. August gardens have long stalky stems devoid of their earlier summer blossoms….August garden sunflowers have big sunflower heads but the leaves look dry and are turning into a dull brown papery sort of metamorphosis. Birds are eager to attack the sunflower heads even though the seeds are not mature…but August birds do not care. They love sunflowers.
The August Gardener has a metamorphosis too…..August gardeners think that weeds are kind of attractive after all. They stay green and sturdy even when tame plants are beginning to look kind of “leggy” and spent. So what if the weeds grow large and green in August? That weed that spreads a carpet all over a flower bed kind of looks like an attractive ground cover. The only green weeds that are truly ugly even in August are the Canadian thistles which are putting out purple flower caps and will soon be changing to the fluffy flying white “hair” caps atop the thistles; those will fly away and seed themselves all over garden spaces and even in lawns. But an August Gardener is often too decrepit also…like the drying daisies and the tired- out red phlox–to do anything about even the thistles. The army of thistles kind of takes over in August…the heat of each day just makes them multiply before an August gardener’s eyes. The gardener says “Uncle” and decides to deal with the thistles next spring when they are tiny and the weather is cooler.
Moonflower vines in an August garden are gorgeous…..so are the green and verdant spikes and leaves of the always- hoped-for bloom on the calla lily plants that almost never cooperate in this area. The gardener patiently looks at the moonflower vines and hopes that one night..soon… there will be the promised beautiful and mysterious white moon flowers glowing white in the night light.
Zinnias never let the August Gardener down…neither do the Impatiens or the Petunias–as long as they have water often enough. These cooperative annuals will delight the August Gardener til the first hard windy rainstorm of early fall —-or—perish the thought—-an early frost in September.
Some August gardeners have lovely potato crops spread on their porches in August. August gardens have huge zucchinis that have triumphed over all efforts to hold them at bay. Children play with the monster zucchinis and use them as baseball bats if there are a few green or rotten tomatoes for subsitutue baseballs available. Cucumber bushes are producing more fruit than an August Gardener can handle—-unless they want to operate a pickle factory. Bread and butter pickles, sweet chunk pickles, dill pickles…..end of the garden pickles…these are for the NOT SO Faint of heart August gardeners. August Gardeners remember when they were young and made everything from their garden in August—including green tomato relish…those jars that never got eaten up because nobody in the family would eat green tomato relish. Some August gardeners even recall the years they made home made sauerkraut from the abundant cabbage crop. And they recall the hot days in the kitchen when tomatoes had to be canned and beets were cooked to be ground into beet relish.
There are even August gardeners and gardens that are being prepared for “fall crops” of spinach and new lettuce and even peas.
But mostly August gardens are just plain tired out. Fall is coming and then winter. The August Gardener thinks about next year’s seed catalogs that begin to arrive in December and they take time off and let the nice green weeds flourish…as they take a break and enjoy a cold drink and they gaze at their August Gardens.
Next year——next year!!!!