Tons going on in terms of my non-blog life. Overwhelmed by work, family health concerns, Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, so on and so forth. Patiently waiting to get the data cable for my phone so I can start pulling photos off of it. I got the thing over six months ago and promptly filled up the memory. Haven't taken a picture with it in months.
Going Ice fishing tomorrow. Don't expect to catch much but plan on having a blast in the warm 36-degree weather. Not taking the house, fishing old school in the open air.
Stopped by a local sporting good mart over my lunch hour and hit the clearance racks. I picked up a nice pair of convertible pants for $15 and an ice fishing rod & reel combo for $11. Score!
Well, we survived the big saturday fishing trip, and we brought home some fish to boot.
Unfortunately my camera was not so fortunate and died out on the lake so I only managed to get these two photos. I put us right on top of the fish as you can see in the second photo of my friend Roberto and his first crappie ever, plus the first keeper ever pulled up in my home made fish house. All said and done we kept 1 decent crappie plus three others I would have tossed back if we weren't trying to piece together a modest meal for Roberto and his kids. A little fruit off the tree is good incentive for planning another trip.
Oh yeah, I also got me a small walleye, who got sent back to grow some more. All in all it was a great trip, I even talked on the phone to one of the guys who canceled, who seemed a little dismayed to hear that not only had we NOT frozen to death but in fact we were so warm in the fish house that we had to shed clothes to stay warm, and that the fishing action was, well, active.
Some more pictures maybe later of when we got back to Roberto's house and his kids saw the fish.
Fishing plans for tomorrow were originally for 6 guys in three houses. Yesterday the two other guys with fish houses canceled because of the weather. One of the ride-alongs was similarly convinced not to go. That left me and two ride-alongs, one of whom was gracious enough to bow out, even though I could tell that it really was in his heart to go.
We Few, We Happy Few.
What's he that wishes so? My cousin Westmorland. No, my fair cousin: If we are marked to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will, I pray thee, wish not one man more. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It ernes me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires: But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England: God's peace, I would not lose so great an honour As one man more, methinks, would share from me For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more. Rather proclaim it presently through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart. His passport shall be made And crowns for convoy put into his purse: We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is called the Feast of Crispian: He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a-tiptoe when the day is named, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall see this day and live t'old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say "To-morrow is Saint Crispian": Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars And say "These wounds I had on Crispin's day." Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember with advantages What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he today that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition: And gentlemen in England now abed Shall think themselves accursed they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
After enduring much teasing and good-natured derision from Eric I finally got around to snapping some photos of the much-ballyhooed fish house. It's going to get some work this Saturday as I am taking a buddy out for his first ice fishing experience. Weather.com is currently predicting a high of 0 degrees that day so I guess you could call that a baptism by ice. I also took a picture of my auger (Over there, to the left) which I got from my dad when he hung up the jig sticks. It was actually my dad who inspired me to build my own fish house; I have vivid memories of watching him construct his 4' X 8' version when I was a kid.
I think my dad has inspired a lot of the behaviors I engage in that my beautiful wife finds to be simply inexplicable. Like solo hiking, building fish houses, ice fishing in general and ice fishing in sub zero temperatures specifically.
It never hurts to let your spouse think that you're a little crazy.
This video was taken back in late November by tita Ciello when she visited us here in MN. Someone wasn't in the mood for singing - He purposely mispronounced the words, spoke the lyrics, etc...
Just a really busy December, which is hard to fathom considering a good hunk of it was spent burning off my remaining vacation hours. Between the caroling group for my church, the son's big holiday musical, hosting a couple of holiday get-togethers and all the frantic home maintenance that goes with that, I really didn't have much time for writing.
But I DID find the time to construct a fold-up portable fish house, based on design specifications contained entirely in my own head. That included a frantic after midnight push to be ice-ready for new years day. I got skunked but one of the fellows I was with brought the first of what I hope will be many fish through the floor of my new shack (a potato chip-sized bluegill)
Hopefully some of that will make some good post material which I can post date a la the father of five style. Heck, I think I'll even post THIS for now.
Thanks again for writing and I hope that you are getting some good winter adventures of your own in!
Well, I made it to a park and took a walk today. I was supposed to be at home taking down the Christmas decorations. I figured what the heck and took my camera into the woods instead. I found myself at Locke Park in Fridley, a place that I had not visited in a long time.
Click on images to enlarge them (They will open in a new window)
Me - This photo taken under instruction from my wife, for what purpose I have no idea. But here I am, grinning like an idiot. I was fortunate enough to be able to use a picnic table under the pavillion as my tripod. I would set the timer and then go scamper to that tree that I was posing in front of.
Trail & Creek Pictures -
The Last Remaining Eligable Bachelor of his kind- Talk about overstaying your welcome!
Bridge over Creek - I think as a kid I must have crossed this bridge on my bike a thousand times. But I never saw it in the winter before. Probably the most important thing that I was able to today was to see an everyday object for new, as if for the first time. A beautiful blanket of snow helps.
The Sawbill Trail seen from the inside of a moving vehicle
According to the weather forecasts we are supposed to get about 3-5 inches of snow tomorrow. Since it won't be all that cold I am optimistic that it will be that cool kind of snow that sticks to tree branches and looks something like the picture above.
This morning there was a fog bank straddling the metro area. The cold air caused the fog to form frost on all the tree branches. It doesn't take much window dressing to make this world look like a magical place. I kicked myself all the way to work because I didn't have my camera with me. By noon the magic will be gone.
A fresh blanket of snow today. Just a smidge; an inch, no more. still, enough to foul up traffic. It hasn't really melted yet so today the world is a silver lining to a sky full of clouds.
I think that the most picturesque snowscapes that I have seen have all been up around the north shore. I remember a grouse hunting trip with my friends on an old logging road a few miles west of Isabella, at the tail end of a lake effect snowstorm. About 6 inches of the stuff had come down. It started wet and as it slowly turned cold the snow began clinging to the trees, powerlines and virtually everything that it touched. It looked as if God had cast the likeness of the world in silver and given my friends and me free run of it. We began walking down a promising trail that quickly forked. According to our maps it rejoined, so we parted ways. My friends and the dog continued to the south and I went alone to the southeast.
The sky was clearing as we did this, and as I walked alone I looked up at the trees that towered above me. It was if I had wandered into the world's largest cathedrel, for in every direction that I looked I saw a more breathtaking stained glass window than the last, filled with the blue of the sky, the dark green of Norway pines and the golden glow of sunshine, framed behind the snow-covered branches. This was no man-made temple yet I worshipped there all the same, silently thanking God for the scene around me. Beauty of this kind is no accident.
As I slowly walked along the sun began to gradually warm the branches above me, starting a secondary snowfall in the woods as the trees began to groggily shake off the sediment. Chickadees and red squirrels were on the move now, quickly getting back to the daily business of winter foraging.
As the two roads slowly rejoined the dog came to greet me. A few more steps around the bend and I was reunited with my comrades. As we plodded back to the truck I wondered to myself what their experience had been like. I had no doubt that they had seen the same sunlight, blue sky, evergreens and snow-covered branches, but I wondered if they had really seen these things as I had.
As we pulled away to find another trail I thanked God again, this time for a safe hunt and for good friends with whom to share the beauty of the woods. We'd shared an experience, even if we had walked down seperate paths. I will always treasure the memory of taking the road less travelled that frosty late autumn morning.
January has passed on into a warm February, but Punxsutawney Phil predicts 6 more weeks of winter. I've heard it said by some that January is the longest, bleakest month to endure, and yet I find myself suprised by it's passing.
Between the Tsunami and the election in Iraq there was no shortage of events that will continue to affect the world for years to come. But it when it really comes down to it, it was a pretty quiet month in our household. Joshua is over 30 pounds, and he has finally reached that transitional point where you don't really count his age by months any longer. Instead of saying tht he's 21 months, I say "He's almost 2."
February will bring about the last month of ice fishing and any other hardcore winter sports. By the time March is here we know that any threats of snow are just posturing and death throes. We are already reading the seed catalogs.
But between here and there are 26 more days of the real thing. If February is anything like January was, I will miss it if I blink.
I spent Saturday with Dad, passing some time together written off as visiting when both of us knew well enough why I was really there- I was a watchdog to make sure that he took his medications, help with insulin injections and make sure that he didn't take any tumbles. Oh yes, and other duties as assigned, which essentially means reaching those places that he couldn't. I think that the rigors of fatherhood helped me in terms of dealing with this new and developing role; Dad on the other hand is not comfortable with it. It's not an easy thing to wipe your own ass for almost 80 years and then have to let someone else do it.
The good news is that our prayers (and the prednesone) seem to be working. His feet were still shuffling when he walked but he was able to get himself up unassisted twice while I was there. We passed the time looking at my grandmother's old scrap books. That woman was good about getting her pictures into pages and even better about labeling them so that 80 years later I would know who was who. One of the nice things was that I was able to ask Dad who some of the cousins are and what some of the stories behind the photos were. Dad's idea of being helpful is to get your hands onto some tools and build or fix something. But if sharing information about our family was something that he could do for me, he was glad to do it.
Thus the day went by, learning of cousins not so much distant by blood but rather distant by space and indifference. A generation or two ago the term "Family" extended out to the uncles, aunts and cousins. We would have spent holidays and family reunions together and everyone would know each other. But today people are traveling in tighter and tighter orbits, spinning through our lives too rapidly to really get close to anyone besides our parents, siblings, spouses and children.
I don't know that it's a trend that can be reversed without radical changes to our lifestyles and mindsets. I don't know if modern man wants to change. It's too fun earning money, staying inside our houses and watching the world go by through the internet and our home theater systems.
I wonder if this discourse will effect any permanent change upon me, if a brief flicker of recognition is enough to begin a permanent change in me- To begin opening up more to my family, to begin engraining into my son a sense of his heritage and where he came from and perhaps most importantly, to SLOW DOWN and appreciate all that I already have. On a cold Saturday in January 2005 maybe I have started a warming trend within myself that will melt away some of the discontent and restlessness from my life.
The high today is supposed to be something like 3 below. It's the kind of cold that freezes the boogers right in your nose and splits the ends of your fingers like 300 year old bamboo shoots. It's great news if you are an ice fisherman. It's lousy news if you have a baby that needs to be loaded and unloaded from a car. I wrapped him up tight in his blanket this morning, something which he usually won't stand for. He wailed like a shanghaied sailor all the way from the car to Mama Olojan's doorstep.
Mom is in the nursing home, recovering from the leg that she broke shortly before Christmas. She is healing very well and in spite of everything is in remarkably good spirits.
Dad on the other hand is another story. He has been hit hard with rheumatoid arthritis and is having a tough go of it. I will be spending the day with him tomorrow.
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