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..or a letter to Dave
Rural Reflections

Wednesday, 14 May 2008

Dog Gone Deb

Today’s column will end with an email and picture I recently received from my sister, Deb. First I have to give you some background to give the story context.

Deb is the oldest of my siblings and has always looked after us. I would describe Deb’s matronly ways as part mother hen, part border collie and just a dash of drill sergeant. Debbie likes to know that every member of her family (human or animal) is happy but protected under her benevolent umbrella. If something bad happens to one of us, it also happens to her. She is a person who many have looked to (including me) during times of need and has a very deep well of compassion.

Deb and her husband, Mike, have three Rat Terrier dogs that are energetic and smart enough to get themselves into trouble from which they cannot extract themselves. Tigger, Miss Scarlett and Woody recently rediscovered that they are also included under the Debbie umbrella when they took off on an adventure that was neither planned nor approved by Deb. This caused a lot of anxiety for Deb as she seeks guarantee danger stays far from her three little rats. Her pursuit and recovery was successful and none came to harm but the dogs received the pointy end of a heart to heart conversation with their human mother. There’s a certain investment Deb makes in those she cares for and she protects that investment with diligence. Although always kind, she also lets you know what her expectations are and I’m sure these expectations were explained in great detail to Tigger, Miss Scarlett and Woody-perhaps in a louder than “indoor voice.” I’m sure they were as relieved to get back home as was Deb but for totally different reasons. This is where my part of the narration ends, I’ll let Debbie tell you the full story through the email and picture she sent to me a few weeks ago.

“I let the Rat Terriers out the door after dinner tonight. I ran back in the house for something and found they had headed down the road. I blew the whistle, called, and the only one who'd come back was Tigger, the first one we purchased. I got in Mike's car and drove the 1/8 mile down the road where Miss Scarlett and Woody were investigating the deep ditch. I ordered them in the car. I'd taken Tigger with me as he had hopped in the car in the yard. I bawled them out on the way home and ordered them into the house. Mike was sitting in his recliner trying to heal from the day and all three terriers jumped in his lap as if to say, "Dad! Protect us from Mom!" It made me laugh so I took a few pictures so you could see what three dogs, in trouble, and seeking shelter from "Dad", look like.”

 

The picture of Mike and the Terriers was too large to post so to see the picture, click on this link: http://grantnelson00.tripod.com/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderpictures/mikeandterriers.jpg


Posted by Grant Nelson at 12:41 PM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Thursday, 15 May 2008 1:08 PM CDT

Thursday, 8 May 2008

Fast Summer

This is a message of dire importance, so I’m not going to take the time for a long introduction-or any introduction.

Summer is fast here, forget Spring. Sweet southerly winds have been replaced by Alberta clippers and we’ve seen growing grass covered by a foot of snow so any naïve ideas of Spring should be saved for 2009. For this reason, I want to jump-start your summer with a few reminders.

First off, go to the hardware store. Hardware stores spend the winter serious and buttoned down as they service those who seek to repair something which froze and then broke. This time of year, hardware stores figuratively break out their shorts and flip-flops and are a nice place to visit. If you didn’t spend the winter planning for summer then a trip to the hardware store will give you some ideas and fast forward the plans you didn’t make this winter. I spend a great deal of time at these sort of establishments and sometimes I’m not even looking for hardware.

Secondly, change what you eat and drink. Make the food lighter and the drinks fruitier to mirror the season. Last night I made skinless chicken with a crust made of oatmeal and parmesan cheese. I don’t know why chicken is normally served with it’s skin (I don’t eat my hamburger inside a leather glove) but now is the time to lighten up on your eating. I recently began replacing some of my coffee intake with green tea. In the past, I’ve found tea drinking a bit effeminate but I wanted something with a little less kick and so tried this concoction which tastes a little like hot water strained through Canadian Thistle. It’s not too bad and the reduction in caffeine is good for me. Considering how many men use cream, sugar and other products in what should be “plain black coffee” maybe drinking tea isn’t as effeminate as I first thought. I also would like to make a personal recommendation of Leinenkugels Honey Weiss and Berry Weiss-individually they are great but mixed together they are light and fruity magic. Lisa and I recently discovered the perfect summer dessert-mix equal parts orange sherbet and frozen cool whip; it tastes like a dream sickle and has less calories than ice cream.

Last summer I recommended “Ice Road Truckers” as a nice break from summer time heat. Ice Road Truckers will make the heat and mosquitoes seem a minor inconvenience when compared to a cold and watery death as tractor and trailer together plunge through the ice somewhere near Toktoyaktuk in the northern most area of the Canadian territories. The History channel hasn’t released a start date for the show but I would guess somewhere in mid-June.

Finally, get out there. Soak up enough good, sunny memories to last you a winter’s worth of sunlight deprivation. Burn something on the grill, mow your lawn in shorts, black socks and sandals then go endure the carnies at the fair. If you don’t, you’ll miss out and it will already be time for a column I’ve planned for next September which will be titled Fast Winter.

 


Posted by Grant Nelson at 11:30 AM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Tuesday, 13 May 2008 2:04 PM CDT

Thursday, 1 May 2008

Multiple mistaken emails in your inbox

I was messing around with my blog and the delivery system yesterday and you may have received some old columns or even some blank columns by mistake. My apologies!

Grant


Posted by Grant Nelson at 6:22 AM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink

Tuesday, 29 April 2008

The M

 

 

 

Much of the work on my parent’s dairy farm was done with a Farmall M tractor that included a Farmhand F-10 loader. We fed cattle, moved snow, changed storm windows and even painted with the old M. I remember my dad raising the bucket to the top of grain bins or the second level of our home, after which he would climb up to the bucket on the arms of loader. That little M helped shared the incredible load my Dad and our family took on in operating a dairy farm. This week I drove the M home to live at our place.

County Road 67 makes a fairly straight track from our farm west of St Hilaire to Viking. It’s the road I take when I want to go home to Viking and it’s also become an incredible internal metaphor for my efforts to reach out to my past and a youth spent in Viking. Bruce Springsteen has sung about his youth in songs that mention the 'Jersey Turnpike but in these songs it's the road he's using to leave home, not get home. I sometimes dream about traveling this gravel road and I always end up in Viking at some point in my youth. Monday, I drove the old Farmall M home on this same road and I thought, as I drove, how as I was hauling home a load of memories.

Mom and dad bought the M in 1961. It had been created twenty years earlier at a time when things were built well and quality was not adjusted for cost. The loader that is attached to the M still uses the original hydraulic pump although it was not the first loader the M carried. The original was purchased as a demonstrator in 1950 by my dad. The original loader was bourn by a Farmall H until the M came along with superior power which made it more useable. My dad used the M for everything and got good at quickly switching the mounted attachments. Dad and Uncle Jack Nelson (some may remember Jack from the parts counter at Northern Motors) did an overhaul on the M while Jack was at technical school in Thief River. Since that time, this World War II era tractor has needed little other than hard work and some fuel.

The M is home in our shed right now; I thought about what I should do with it the day I brought it home. I mean no disrespect to professionally restored tractors or their owners, but I don’t really want to make the M into something that sees sunlight only on parade day. It would be like taking a man who’s been a lumberjack all his life and making him into a ballerina in his retirement. I think the M will live the same life it always has lived, only a bit easier. I do plan to clean it up and then give it a coat of paint but otherwise its runs pretty good. It needs a new seat and I will probably do the easy things like plugs, plug wires and some new decals but I don’t see hiring a professional to do the work that is really my responsibility.

I guess you could say my mind reaches out to my past in dreams while the rest of me hits the road and brings home old things that remind me of the past.  Bringing home the M this week was good for both body and mind.

 

 


Posted by Grant Nelson at 5:29 PM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Thursday, 1 May 2008 6:22 AM CDT

Saturday, 26 April 2008

The Day Trip
I don’t believe I’ve ever taken you on a day-trip with me. Last fall, I did write about our trip to Idaho, but that was seven times longer than a day-trip. Last week, my nephew, Jamie, and I retrieved an Oliver manure spreader from North Dakota, during a trip that took less than a day.
    First off, most day-trips I make are recognizable by several factors; they have a purpose, they are the result of a purchase, and I usually rope someone into going with me. I’ve needed a different manure spreader for quite some time and decided to recently take the plunge. I could have purchased one locally, but that would have required more money and would not have required our day-trip.
    Jamie and I left last Friday at five in the morning; we were bound for Denhoff, N.D. Denhoff is about 60 miles west of Carrington, so we would pay brother David a visit in the same fell swoop. I have become emboldened with age and so took several back roads that saved us some time and also brought us through the town of Hatton, N.D., which is the home of Carl Ben Eielson, world famous aviator. I like small towns, and North Dakota is rich with them; most have business districts the width of a C-store, but the towns are typically well-kept and feature a huge grain elevator. I also like the fact that Main Street is normally the highway, therefore I see some of the older, more ornate old homes from either side of the year 1900.
    We arrived in Carrington and saw Dave working at Erickson Implement. Dave is a gadget-hound, like myself, so he offered his GPS for our trip to pick up the manure spreader. These little units are fantastic, and I think they would make a good addition for local emergency services. The GPS helped us find turn-offs with great accuracy and ticked off how far we had traveled as we curved around gravel roads to the home of Terry Stroebel.
    Now, northwest Minnesota people are fantastic, but some of the North Dakota people would give us a real run for our money. Terry had welded a jack onto the spreader, oiled the wooden floor, greased the axle bearings and fussed over the unit to make sure it was field-ready. I’d sent him a check weeks ago, but he had not cashed it, as he wanted to make sure I liked what I’d purchased.  His family was all gathered around for conversation with the travelers from abroad, and I’m sure they would have fed us had we stayed any longer, but we had to get home.
    We stopped for another visit with David on the way home. We stood in front of his work and shot the breeze under the sun in light wind; it was really pleasant. We talked about the weather, farming, farmers, my new spreader, family and how well our trip had gone. Our trip had gone so well that I guess I wouldn’t have had to bring most of the tools I own, an air compressor and my good crescent wrench. I felt we were due for a breakdown on the way home, but it never happened. Daylight revealed that which we’d missed on the way out, and we stopped for coffee about every hour and to stretch our legs-I’ve got a 28-inch inseam, so it doesn’t take me very long.
    The manure spreader is home now and sitting in the shed. Jamie and I had a nice trip and got to see Dave, so that was nice. Still, I wonder when I’ll get the chance for a quest that does not require staying somewhere overnight. It’s rare that purpose, purchase and someone willing to ride shotgun to get a manure spreader come together for a day-trip.


Posted by Grant Nelson at 10:55 AM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink

Thursday, 17 April 2008

Life in the projects

People spend so much time in anticipation of holidays,
family reunions, weddings and any special occasion. I anticipate the
project season; in fact I so completely immerse myself in these
little tasks that you could say that I live in my projects.

Intensive planning should precede any project, not so that you are
organized but so you can really enjoy the anticipation. Nothing spins
my wheels like sitting on the couch in the middle of winter, catalog
in hand, laying out plans for the spring. Some folks like to plan
with a seed catalog or a home improvement magazine while some just like
to talk about their projects; I am the perfect storm as I do all
three. Anyone who’s seen my car could surmise that any extra money I
have is going somewhere besides my wheels. Lisa and I invest our extra
money in matters of home and garden and so that is what entails most of our
plans for spring and summer. Notice I say “invest” instead of “spend” which is the
first step in justification of any home project.

The second step in planning a project is taking on way more than you
can possibly accomplish in a Minnesota summer. This list will dwindle
when you find that what appears reasonable in December is a waste of
time in May. There is nothing like being held to the flame of
reality to make one realize what project needs to be moved to the
front burner. Most of our projects are done in the heat of summer to
survive the cold of winter however yard projects are mostly done to
please Lisa and myself. We can indulge ourselves and have done so
with rainwater collection projects, a pond less fountain, raised
gardens and several improvements that we could live without but make life much more enjoyable to live.

I think you need to start a project on glorious and fanciful
proportions so that when you eventually compromise and perhaps cut
corners, the project will still look good and be worthwhile. It’s so
easy to fantasize about a project but money, work and time will
modify what anything looks like in the end. I’ve had several large
and glorious zebra’s that have become practical and sure-footed
burros by their finish but typically I’m satisfied and proud with the
end product. I guess my mission statement could be; “think big but be practical.”

If you’re performing a project out in the yard, make sure you dig it
deep enough and work hard enough. Over time, I have witnessed projects
fall just short of successful completion because people didn’t dig
deep enough, use enough sand, get it completely level or take their
time. I’ve fallen prey to the need to finish quickly and have even
cut corners to finish in a timely manner. Better to do one project
well than to do create several projects that eat money and produce little joy, a lesson learned well by a younger version of myself.

 

In the end, maybe I don’t actually live within my projects, which would be too limiting. Perhaps our efforts, time and money actually express what we hold important and the priorities that shape our lives. If that isn’t justification to dig, plant, build and plan for a summer lived, at work, in the projects.

 


Posted by Grant Nelson at 6:28 AM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Thursday, 17 April 2008 9:46 AM CDT

Wednesday, 16 April 2008

To Do

(I forgot to send to send this week. I am getting forgetful-you'll understand when you get to be my age) 

 

 

I like to stay busy; being busy makes me feel accomplished and passes time nicely. I like to create a “to do” list each week and try to follow it closely and stay busy. Being busy is like raising cattle; they are beautiful as long as they are inside a fence but they are frightful if they defeat their boundaries and go off unchecked. I think I found out this week that being busy can also distract me from the things most important in life.

Lisa and I went for Sunday brunch at my nephew’s home. Jamie and his wife, Kristy, recently had a little boy and named us as godparents. Casey was in great spirits and we all got to hold him then enjoyed a breakfast consisting of more food than we usually eat in two meals. The good company and good food are something that I felt deeply and will remember for a long time. It made such an impression on me that I can visit the memory quite readily.

I worked a short shift at work on Monday. I was home by three that afternoon and really got some work done. Just before Lisa arrived home, I thought I heard a kitten meow. There is a bird that sounds like a kitten and I dismissed it as such. The meow did not stop, however and grew louder as I approached our barn. I found a tiny kitten had fallen a couple of feet in the four inch gap between the wall and manure board of the barn. We have fed a stray cat this winter and I suppose this was her kitten and she’d been unable to retrieve it during a move from barn to hayshed. I got the kitten out and introduced it to Lisa as a “complication.” Truth is, he wasn’t complicated and simply wanted food and comfort and spent much of the next 12 hours tucked under a blanket with Lisa or under my chin on the couch. We are pretty “cat rich” around here already and the Humane Society took the little guy in for us, they are such a good organization.

Part of being busy is to get to the gym three or four times a week; it’s another thing to do on my list. I was about halfway through a set of pull-ups when I realized something; this really isn’t work. Every time I contract my muscles it forces my mind to focus and it drive’s the busyness right out of me. Before I had arrived to work-out, I had thought that I really didn’t get much done this week. As important as exercise is for my body, it’s best work was going on in my mind. In a rush of thought, I quickly considered how when my own cloud of priorities cleared, the things that really meant something to me had nothing to do with work or feeling accomplished. Having brunch with a four month old child and having a hand in saving a four week old kitten are what floated to the top of my consciousness when the muddiness of my own mind was cleared by the clean water of physical exertion. I had accomplished much this week and it had little to do with my list.

Work ethic is wonderful and much needed while performing a task. It shows good character and a sort of honesty that is hard to fake. The only time it goes bad is when the work becomes all your character and the only measure by which you judge yourself. When I compare my “to do” list to egg-bake and rolls shared with family, effort to help a helpless kitten or time spent using my body to work on my mind; I think I should re-name this list as “TO DO when the important things are done.”


Posted by Grant Nelson at 10:09 PM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Thursday, 17 April 2008 5:59 AM CDT

Thursday, 3 April 2008

The First Year

This week I want to write about my first year of writing for the Northern Watch. This column is actually overdue because my paper anniversary with the newspaper actually occurred in January. I missed this more appropriate time because there were too many other good topics about which to write. This week I am empty for fresh ideas so this one wins by default; with standards now set low, let us begin.

I started writing for the ‘Watch after they published a story about a book of “Rural Reflections” columns that I had published. I remember hoping that the people I’d always written about in my past columns would still want to be included; a problem I solved by simply not asking for their permission which seems to have worked out fine. Over the past year your have met my family, friends, cats dogs and even a particularly under-achieving group of aliens who came to visit me in the sugar beet fields near Warren during Halloween. The letters I send to my brother, Dave, are a window into our relationship and a good opportunity to tell you what is on my mind. Letters to Dave are so enjoyable to write that if I didn’t actually have a brother, like David then I would have had to adopt one.

 

I’ve introduced you to some new characters along the way such as Travis Black. Travis is a very content person and finds peace in the simple things of life and writing about him is a way to remind readers to keep life simple and seek happiness in it’s purest form. I suspect we haven’t read the last of Travis, the walleye spinners he ties, the fish he catches or the life he lives.

 

I have written about my dad several times in the past but had never written about my mom until this past year. I guess her cooking made quite an impact on me and the column I wrote about her field and pail lunches struck a chord with a lot of people. Mom gave me a love of good food but my love of beer and coffee were something I located by myself. I know I sound passionate about these two drinks but I have recently begun and romance with cheese and plan to start making it at home, I’m sure columns about this topic will be a full of passion and love as any about that which I consume.

You briefly met our dog, Muffin, prior to our sad, last trip to the veterinarian last summer. Our cats are frequent subjects as are the cattle out in the pasture, all of whom keep us close to the land, give us someone to care for and restore faith in the world after a day at work . Recent studies have found that those who own cats suffer less from strokes and live healthier lives; I could have told them that and have indeed done so in my column.

Here’s the thing; I am not an expert on anything but my own life. I use my common sense, traditional beliefs and a love for those I write about to express the life I live or aspire to live. I think I remind myself how good life is with every column and how lucky I am to write something that people can read. Season one is finished, let’s start the second year.


Posted by Grant Nelson at 12:34 PM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink

Friday, 28 March 2008

Follow up picture

In this week-end's entry, I included that I saw a picture of me with Gilmore Flaten on one of his inventions back in the seventies. Gil's daughter, Sheila Winstead, found the picture and sent it to me. Here it is..........

 

 


Posted by Grant Nelson at 10:33 AM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink

Thursday, 27 March 2008

Letter to Dave
Now Playing: I've included lyrics to the song, "This Old House"

(I've included lyrics to the son, "This Old House" which is mentioned in the column-Grant) 

 

 

Dear Dave,

 

The last time I sent you a letter, I was full of hope for Spring and fields black and ready for planting; I now realize I was naïve and am now thankful for the personal growth that suffering through extended winter has given me.

I want to start this months letter with a little anger. Food costs have gone up a bit and that combined with increased prices for corn and grain has lead some to believe that farmers are to blame for expensive cold cereal and bread. The fact is that there are just pennies worth of raw material (grain, corn) in a loaf of bread or a box of cereal and that most increases are due to transportation and the cost of fuel. What a farmer produces in the field has about as much to do with the cost of groceries as opening an umbrella has with whether it’s going to rain. Enough, I realize that I’m preaching to the choir with you, Dave, but it really is quiet silly.

I really enjoyed our trip to Uncle Gilmore’s funeral. I know it sounds odd to enjoy a funeral but the chance to sit in a car with you for a few hours and talk was a real pleasure. It was nice to have Dad and Aunt Betty in the back seat; I felt like a little kid listening in when the adults talk. Dad and Betty’s conversation was full of stories and details about their siblings and our cousins that gives them extra dimension and context and actually brings life to those who have passed.

Gilmore’s funeral was something I will remember for quite some time. The funeral home in Roseau was absolutely full so we had to stand but you and I got to stand with our sister, Deb and brothers Darrel and Steve-I can’t remember the last time we were together in such a way. Family members gathered Gil’s life in pictures and I was surprised to find the fat little boy riding with Gil in one black and white to be me. Gilmore led a full life so there were lots of reflective smiles mixed with the tears but some moments felt like the whole building sobbed. I know Gil liked music and at one point an older gentleman took his guitar and sang “This Old House” for those attending the service. The singer was full of emotion and it was hard for him to start but he absolutely raised the roof once he got rolling. An older voice always tells it’s owner’s story and shapes a song’s words so that both your head and your heart understand their meaning and this was no exception, I bet Gil loved it.

I’d hope to have stories of early field work this letter but I guess I will exchange them for stories of muddy fields in next months letter. Hope all is well out in North Dakota and that we see each other prior to the next funeral.

You’re little bro’

This Old House

 

This ole house once knew his children
This ole house once knew his wife
This ole house was home and comfort
As they fought the storms of life
This old house once rang with laughter
This old house heard many shouts
Now he trembles in the darkness
When the lightnin' walks about

CHORUS:
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
Ain't a-gonna need this house no more
Ain't got time to fix the shingles
Ain't got time to fix the floor
Ain't got time to oil the hinges
Nor to mend the windowpane
Ain't a-gonna need this house no longer
He's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints

This ole house is a-gettin' shaky
This ole house is a-gettin' old
This ole house lets in the rain
This ole house lets in the cold
On his knees I'm gettin' chilly
But he feel no fear nor pain
'Cause he see an angel peekin'
Through a broken windowpane
CHORUS

This ole house is afraid of thunder
This ole house is afraid of storms
This ole house just groans and trembles
When the night wind flings its arms
This ole house is gettin' feeble
This old house is needin' paint
Just like him it's tuckered out
But he's a-gettin' ready to meet the saints
CHORUS

This ole house dog lies a-sleepin'
He don't know I'm gonna leave
Else he'd wake up by the fireplace
And he'd sit there and howl and grieve
But my huntin' days are over
Ain't gonna hunt the coon no more
Gabriel done brought in my chariot
When the wind blew down the door
CHORUS


Posted by Grant Nelson at 12:16 PM CDT | Post Comment | Permalink
Updated: Friday, 28 March 2008 10:34 AM CDT

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