AMs Gone Wild

One of the main signs of Winter's end is a rite called "Spring Break". Cities in Florida, Mexico and any number of exotic destinations teem with jubilant high school and college kids. On Monday I discovered an entirely different twist to this phenomenon. On a mercy mission to Platteville, in search of discounted Easter chocolate, I encountered something that you won't see on the evening news. As I was driving along the highway something caught my eye. There was a bunch of cute little asses frolicking in a nearby field. Determined to investigate a little closer I zigged and zagged until I found a road that led to that field. As I came over the crest of a hill I found myself in the midst of a scene that would have made teenagers around the world shudder. I had run across, what seemed to be, an Amish Spring Break. On the right side of the road there were groups of boys, fully attired in their blue shirts, black trousers and vests and, naturally, their flat brimmed straw hats. They were engaged in what looked like a completely unorganized game of volleyball. Meanwhile, across the road, sitting on bank of the ditch were their female counterparts. The girls, dressed their black, ankle length frocks, watched admiringly. The astonishing thing about this scene was, there were forty or fifty teenaged kids and not one cel phone, IPod or laptop anywhere in sight. How do they communicate? I really wanted photos of this (probably would have been worth thousands on Ebay) but I live around these people and do respect their "I don't want my picture taken" policy. So with due respect I drove until I was out of sight then I swung a uturn and found a vantage point on a nearby hilltop where I could sneak a shot or two without being detected. I don't think the kids mind but them bearded parents (mainly the Amish men) are a tough bunch armed with pitchforks and biblical curses. I also managed to get a shot or two of those cute little asses that caught my attention initially. A short distance from the main party scene, as I approached the Big "M" (Explanatory story at a later date. This will be a subject for another Wisconsin Hystery Blog) I noticed a small splinter group of Amish kids climbing to the moundtop (like a hilltop only on the top of a mound) I popped off a shot or two pretending that I was shooting the "M".
All in all Monday was a pretty successful day, I experienced a ritual seldom seen by us Englishers and I scored big on leftover Easter candy at Walgreens. Can life get any better?

Amish Volleyball rules -

Thou shalt have no more than ten on a team, Thy buggy is out of bounds,
Thy ball in "Cow Pie" is still in playeth.

A chance meeting in the neutral zone. I think that's about as hot as it gets.

The girl's vantage point on the edge of the parking lot.
Notice, all those are the flashy sport model buggies.

A couple of those cute little "Spring Break" asses.
(And horses and cows.)

The Platteville "M".

A few kids viewing, probably, the only part of the world they've ever seen!

I Stand Corrected

Last week I posted a Blog titled "Way Up Nort". Upon my arrival in Minnesoda I was advised that, not only did I mispronounce Nord wrong, but I also misspelled it doncha know. Now since I bin up here a while ya know, I've brushed up on proper talkin'. We bin seein' the little kid, Eddie and his ma and pa. Dey're all prutty well too anyways. On a hot tip from da TV guy I went a ways up Nord ta see where a bunch of eagles bin hangin' out on some lake with lots of dead fish. When I got up der da froze up lake was all full of water and, I guess dem eagles musta ate up all dem dead fishes, cuz they were gone ya know. (Probably the same bunch we seen last week by La Crosse heading further Nord.) So I bin jus spending time any how eatin' watchin' the T and V and diddlin' with the computing machine while Eddie's ma and grandma run around doin' what ever he asks. His dad, Uncas, takes off in the mornin' for someplace he calls work while I study the lifestyles of the Nordwegian and the rest of dose blond folks at malls and liqueur stores. Tomorrow, if I manage to drag Grandma away, we head back down Soud to da Fennimore town. It'll be good to get home and start talking good old Wisconsin lingo again a na hey? I had planned on a lot of great eagle pictures but I found a better subject right here.

Here's Fast Eddie da new kid dat lives up Nord!

I got the feelin' this kid's going to be an orator.
Or an opera singer.

Maybe a politician. He's already trying to pat himself on the back.

Time to quit. I think he's getting bored.

Way up Nort

Packing up to spend a week with the new Grandkid, Eddie. The nice thing about having a Mac Mini is that you can pack it up and take along on trips. Fortunately Sally and Uncas have an extra monitor just waiting to hook up with Mini. I plan to do some creative roaming around the Twin Cities while Grandma does her baby spoiling voodoo that she doo soo well. Hopefully I'll find some stuff Blogable or at least get inspired enough to make something up ala Wisconsin Hystery. I keep hearing about all these folks that are traveling and it makes us seem like a couple of Wisconsin tree stumps. Some old friends from Illinois who now live in Oregon are on a major journey across our country. I keep seeing posts from them in a different city or state everyday. Maybe we can detour them through Fennimore on their way West and hear the tales of their travels. One of my favorite Bloggers, Evilbear, is heading from his home in in Crystal Lake, Ill to explore, and photograph, the far northwestern portions of his state. In both cases lots of exciting photos are expected. (For a photographic treat check out http://evilbearphotography.blogspot.com/ this guy's a serious amateur photographer who makes wonderful pictures) These are just two of many of our friends who are running loose in the world while we try to decide which route to take to Minneapolis.
The next words you read on this site will be coming to you from the home of tall blonds, big malls, Super Targets, Best Buy and an undomed Major League Team. (And Prairie Home Companion)

The pea pod is finally ripe!
The "Jolly Green Giant" would be mighty proud of this little sprout.

New Arrival

Well the new Grandkid finally showed up. On March 17th, St Patrick's Day, Edward David Nimz, assisted by the probing and coaxing of Mom, Dad and the hospital staff, made his entrance into our lives. His late arrival (11 days later than predicted) made for some interesting moments in our household. Grandma Jo had been fully prepared for weeks, ready to swoop up to Minnesota to offer her grandmotherly support. The trunk of the car was filled with suitcases and gifts for both male and female infants. Not knowing the sex ahead of time necessitated purchasing both pink and blue stuff. (Anyone having a baby girl soon?) Ready to heat and eat meals were prepared. Finally the call came around 3am on the 17th. I managed to restrain Jo for a few hours before we made our Northern dash. (As an example of how hastily we left, after our return Jo went to make some toast for breakfast Saturday morning only to find a slice already in the toaster. Seems as how it had been forgotten in the rush.) I guess I'd better include the vital statistics. (to a man that usually consists of, "It's a boy!") For those who need a little more info - Edward David, 8 pounds 5 ounces, 20 and a half inches tall, 10 fingers, 10 toes and strong lungs. He likes long walks in the woods, happy movies, laughter and candlelight dinners of Italian food. (At least that what his ad on eHarmony says) After Jo was satisfied that Eddie knew who she was and that spoiling classes would start next week, we returned to Fennimore (and 3 day old toast).
Now what could compete with anything as exciting as a new born grandchild? Well our trip home came close. Anyone who visits this blog very often knows my thing for eagles. We started down The River Friday afternoon hoping to spot an eagle or two fishing in the spots where the ice had broken up. We saw one, then another and another and another. I mean there were eagles in the trees, on the ice, and in the air. Some were just sitting around while others were performing what seemed to be a courting ritual. As well as spotting all these eagles we saw at least a dozen nests along the way. Considering that these were visible from the road one can only imagine how many more are stashed away out of sight. I'd say that those big guys are no longer endangered. I have a lot of excuses for not taking any photos but the real reason was that on the way up on Wednesday morning, I had seen a whole bunch of eagles in a back water area at the Minnesota/Wisconsin border and I was hoping to get back there while it was still light. When I made it back to the area I certainly wasn't disappointed. There on the ice in the trees and in the air there was easily a hundred or more eagles. I assume that this is a migration coming up from farther South heading up to their Summer quarters. Naturally the view, at least for photography, was somewhat obscured by twigs and brush making focusing very difficult. (It would have been an ideal situation for my blog friend evilbear with his new wideangle lens) We parked and just watched for a little while then continued on home feeling pretty satisfied, a new grandkid and tons of eagles. That all adds up to a really great couple of days.I finally finished painting the laboratory and have started preparing for a week long stay with Eddy and family next week. Grandma Jo, who is happily splitting her time between Saffie and Eddie, has gotten her second wind and is ready to face the challenge. Hey! Spoiling is no easy job!

Little Eddie - The Early Days

Mom, Dad and Eddie (Sally, Uncas and Edward)

Sammy doesn't know what to make of this new arrival.

Grandma Jo at work.

The Grandpa touch. (How about those new glasses)

A few of our fine feathered friends.

Oh Deer! part II

In my last post I mentioned that lately Eagle sightings are outnumbering Deer sightings. Saturday, after crossing The River into Iowa to drop off a few bucks at a Riverboat Casino, we decided to return home taking the road south on the Iowa side of The River. With all of the recent thawing and field fertilizing, I figured that we would encounter dozens of Eagles. Uh uh! Nary a stinkin' bald head in sight. But, the warmer weather did bring out the deer. Fair enough, lost some bucks, saw some bucks. (Well at least this one group of about a bakers dozen.)

Speaking of bakers. Last week I had a hankering for some good old fashioned oatmeal cookies. A simple task that I've performed many times before. Some flour, sugar, eggs and oatmeal beat it all together and, voila! cookies. Except this time, you might say, the oatmeal beat me. I found the friendly round container, with the smiley Quaker guy on it, back in a corner on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet. I reached it, touched it and dumped it right on my head. Did you know that capturing flying oatmeal is similar to corralling runaway feathers. I did manage to collect enough for my recipe off the counter top. (The full 3 cupfuls that I needed) Then proceeded to gather up the rest of the three or four hundred pounds that was scattered around the kitchen (and some in the dining room). In an effort to keep it off of the floor, I managed to catch large amounts in my shirt pocket, down the back of my neck, in my shoes and in the waistband of my slacks. After a final cleanup with the vacuum, broom and snow blower I got back to baking and in half the time it took to clean up I had six about dozen crispy, golden cookies. Needless to say, the cookies led a very short life but the memory of them lives on with the discovery of little oat flakes here and there around the house. The other day one of my neighbors dropped by to ask if I had lost some oatmeal lately. Seems dog came home covered with it. Beats me?

Oh Deer!

For the last few years I've become pretty obsessed with eagles. In the past when we went driving around we would always be on the lookout for deer. After thinking about it, I realized that lately I actually see more eagles than deer while roaming our back roads. So, Wednesday I experimented. On my drive back from Dodgeville, I took the county road instead of the main highway. I hadn't gone to far before I ran across a deer foraging on the edge of some woods. Things looked fairly good for deer watching. Then another deer and a small group of turkeys. Another deer eating out of a corn crib right next to the road was barely bothered by my presence even posed for a few pictures. More turkeys and then, BaDAh! Four eagles out in a field gnawing on some kind of carcass. Deer three, Eagles four, Turkeys seven. Just to cap things off for the eagle team one more did a flyby as I approached Fennimore. One trip does not a conclusion make. (I heard that somewhere during a chocolate induced dream) Saturday, after visiting Jo's Mom with Saffie, I hit old County Q again, this time with a witnesses. Bang, a deer right off. Aha! Then fiftysome turkeys and another deer, and another deer and more turkeys (with turkeys I stop counting at ten) A real good deer day and then around a corner and over a hill... five eagles. In a tree, on the ground, and in the air doing their usual wing-flipping off signs at me. But then over one more hill and the deer rallied, three of them dining on last fall's corn spillage in a field below us. Ha, that makes six deer, a million turkeys and only five eagles and less than five miles to home. Oh there's an eagle in that tree, oh there's one flying right at us, oh there's another in that tree by the creek and I think that may be one way out there in that tree. And we're home. Final score for Saturday, a million turkeys, six deer and eight or nine eagles. Two day total, Deer, nine, Turkeys, several million, and Eagles, twelve or thirteen.
Makes one wonder, do the eagles prefer venison to turkey?

"Watch out there's Eagles up ahead!"

"Don't worry guys, the Eagle only eat deer."

Eagle on the prowl.
It even has a deer stand for hunting

This just looked like it should be shot.

Butt Out!!!

While traveling across state (Wisconsin) last Saturday, I noticed a decaying barn. Not unusual now days but this barn was different than the ones that dot the countryside. It was an old tobacco barn. I was passing through an area were, not too many years ago, it was normal to see small fields of tobacco growing and bright red, long, tall barns loaded with sheathes of tobacco hanging inside. Now, thanks to our health consciousness, these fields have shifted to the production of more acceptable crops like corn and soy beans. I guess without those extra acres pumping out those evil leafs we'll all be better off (except maybe the farmer). But, as I look back on my last post, (see how much better my memory is since the arrival of my memory foam pad) I realize how the demise of tobacco will effect more than just barns. Pipe Dreams? Where will they come from? Will more people resort to smoking other things in their pipes to induce dreams? Never mind, that would never happen. I guess one could equip those barns with gro-lights and cultivate "medicinal" herbs. Another thought, that kind of falls into this whole tobacco/pipe thing, pertains to the corn crop. One of the more enjoyable pastimes out on the farm was smoking behind the barn. This covers a whole bunch of things all at once. Usually the fuel that was smoked was corn silk (the surgeon general never said anything about that). The main smoking implement was usually a corn cob pipe. Corn cob pipes were popularized by the likes of General Douglas MacArther, Mark Twain (as well as Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn) and hillbillies. Fortunately other uses have been found for the corn that's not being used for pipes and smoking silk. Now we can use fuel made from that corn to drive out into the country and see the skeletons of those wonderful buildings of yesteryear.

The barn that got thoughts rolling.General MacArther with his signature corn cob.
"Old Soldiers Never Die They Just Puff Away!"

I didn't know that tobacco plants bloomed. Who knew?

Forerunner of Super Bowl" ads!