snowbirdredux

LIFE AND DEATH IN THE GARDEN

Posted on August 12, 2013 by snowbirdredux

In the midst of coffee and morning paper there was a sudden, sickening WHAM against the window.

We have come to know that heart-rending sound too well, having picked up limp, broken bird bodies from time to time, and it is always a sad procedure. Much better, if still upsetting, is to watch with relief as a sparrow or finch flies up into a nearby tree to perch and recover. Yet even then, one can only imagine their confusion if they have lived through the impact, given what, just a moment before, must have looked like a clear shot into an adjacent tree. Not to mention the consternation they must forever address about what represents reality in bird world. Or their pervasive headache, for that matter.

But this time the thud was huge, far beyond sparrow or finch weight, and certainly fatal.

I ran, as I always do, to the scene of the accident, only to see two pileated woodpeckers flying away. Whew! I thought. Hard to believe, given the impact, but we beat that one!

It was in the afternoon, as I was doing my daily walk-about through the garden, checking the progress of the recent “window pane-ing” on the leaves of the Joe Pye Weed, assessing the redness of the Juliet tomatoes, scouting for deer damage on the tiger lilies, that I saw him.

He was lying amongst the Lamb’s Ears and Coral Bells on the west side of the house. So still, so lovely, his head tucked inward. When we picked him up, his body was still warm from the sun. I caressed his feathers and grieved for his beauty and, I must admit, sobbed a bit.

The 19” pileated woodpecker, with it’s flaming red crest and crazy, maniacal, laughing voice – kuk, kuk, kuk, woika, woika, woika – is the bird my “Enjoying Woodpecker’s More” book describes as – “THE woodpecker in the eyes of many; the sight of a pileated often triggers an exclamation that is it’s common name in much of the country: GOOD GOD!”

I can vouch for that. The first time I heard that sharp, electric voice, I ran outdoors in a frenzy, not knowing what in the world to expect in this new and unfamiliar land of Minnesota.

Now I’m listening and hoping for the pileated’s fleeing family to return at the same time I’m rejoicing over other life in the garden.

After lamenting all summer about the peculiar absence of bees, butterflies and hummers, and regularly cursing the wholesale perennial growers who feel they have to systemically add insecticides like lethal nicotine to their plants, and ranting to whomever will listen about the evils of Monsanto – there was a glimmer of hope this past week.

I was walking among the tomatoes one day, mumbling to myself something about not seeing “one, not even one butterfly!” just at the very magical moment when a Monarch flitted past my shoulder. I followed him all about the garden until he settled in for a long mid-day lunch upon the Asclepias next to the bird bath. And just now as I was writing these lines, I looked down into the garden and saw him there again. Ahhhh.

And yesterday. Finally. Two hummingbirds, battling it out among the lilies and lupine. I couldn’t get the fresh sugar water boiled up fast enough.

When I first became aware of the dangers (i.e.neonicotinoids) inbred into certain plants today, I vowed to grow my own bee/butterfly/hummer meals from seed. But unfortunately, what most home gardeners don’t know, is that over 40% of the U.S. seed companies have been bought out by GMO titans Monsanto/Seminis.

Fortunately I came across a list of safe seed choices, and I will be perusing their online catalogues for next year’s perennials, hoping to enrich my friend Valerie’s bees, who make their honey in hives just down the road. And provide sustenance for the Monarchs before their arduous trek to Mexico. And a celebratory feast for the hummers after a long, strenuous journey.

You can too. The list is online at http://www.occupymonsanto360.org/2012/03/06monsanto-free-seed-companies.

There will always be death in the garden. But I promise to do my part to give it life.

Posted in bees, Birds, education, favorite things, Gardening, insecticides, minnesota life, Wild Life | 1 Comment

GRAMMY

Posted on July 31, 2013 by snowbirdredux

I have always acknowledged that I was raised as much by Grandma Marie as by my mother. Not that they weren’t both important and significant influences, but it was Grammy who rocked me in front of the stove when I had an earache. Grammy who was there when I came home from school for lunch. Grammy who gave me my passion for gardening.

Marie with her grandchildren: Maryanne, me, Marlene and Margie

Sweet Marie, she was known, and undeniably sweet she was, with her soft, perfectly modulated soprano, alternately intoning the words back and forth between English and Swedish. “Yeoful, Yeoful, vill the meeting be. Ven from sin, our hearts are pure and free.”

I never remember my grandmother being mad or disdainful about anyone or anything, with the exception of the displeasure she regularly espoused for the ignorant neighbors who just barely sprinkled the tops of their plants and called it good. “Look!” she would protest, as if their ignorance in failing to soak the plants down to their roots, give them a proper drink, was literally harming her to the core as well.

She knew better. And that is most likely why our little cottage garden was a showstopper with giant blue hydrangeas and vibrant “dancing-girl” fuchsias, climbing arbor roses and a wall of daffodils. I have a piece of her peonies now beside my own rose arbor.

It makes a difference. That is why I was so moved this past Saturday at our Fergus Falls Farmer’s Market and felt compelled to sit and chat with Judith Dumke-Emery, the owner of Gentle Manor Designs and Tea. I was first intrigued by the rash of kids, toddler to teenage, who were alternately gamboling about, helping her at her booth, or popping into and out of Judy’s lap. Or shaking the maracas and beating the tambourine while Jo Mahler played the African marimba in the music booth, or gathering up door prizes from other vendors and eagerly digging each half hour into the fishbowl to pick the winning ticket for the door prize.

Each child wore a t-shirt that said – “GENTLE MANOR KIDS, Learning to Earn.” I looked at Judy’s brochure which offered an explanation. It stated – “When I develop a new tea I call on my daughters and their children to join me in a Tea Tasting Time. They taste and rate the tea and explain why they feel as they do about the tea.”

Twice a month, Judy explained, some of the 13 grandchildren (ages two to fifteen) come for a Gentle Manor Kids meeting where they help in the herb and vegetable garden, pick wildflowers, and create art and garden ornaments out of scrap wood. “What do you see?” Judy asks them when she holds up a piece of lumber or forest branch. And their imaginations take over from there. Once a year they hold an Art Show for family and friends and they now help in the market booth each Saturday in Fergus Falls. At the end of the year they will each receive an envelope with their “share.”

I’m certain they will be tempted by video games and text-ting and all manner of life’s media blitz as they age and grow, but Judy’s progeny have been blessed by art and tea and treats at Gentle Manor.

We’re so much more than our genes. I am the Diane today who has sweet tunes in my head and the remembrance of cocoa with marshmallows on top in my blood and an eternal passion for the flowers in my heart.

Thank you Grammy.

Posted in faith, Family, favorite things, Gardening, In Memorium, memories | Leave a comment

HEART’S DESIRE

Posted on July 27, 2013 by snowbirdredux

I just took in my first two teensy Juliet grape tomatoes and cut two smallish heads of broccoli. T.M. has been picking the basil – Sweet, Marseille and Cardinal.

It’s been a long season of waiting and watching for gardeners in Minnesota so far. There was snow in May and spring delayed until sometime in July.

But that’s not my problem. It may be the problem of the harvest goddesses or the garden elves. Could be Loki is messing around with Idunn again, changing the whims of life. Could even be – can I say it out loud – global warming. Shhhhhhh.

But my personal issue has to do with the fact that I only have a minuscule, middling and insufficient vegetable garden.

Six tomatoes, three basil, three bell peppers, one dinosaur kale, three chard, six broccoli. Who am I forgetting? Oh. Ten onions.

Tomatoes, Basil, and Multi squashed in Veggies!

This is ridiculous.

It’s not enough! That thrill of watching your seedlings spring into adulthood, tending them through heat wave, downpour, wind and war; fending off bunnies and deer; watching with perseverance for slugs and mildew, not to mention blossom end rot – and then finally coming to the pinnacle of achievement – your own babies grown up and on your plate. What a thrill.

Here I sit on Mt. Faith with almost one acre and a paucity of edibles. The problem is partly with the diminished plot-digging, compost hauling limitations of an “older” back. And partly with the interference of the noxious juglone from the black walnut trees, whose poison tends to discourage other plants within a 60 foot radius (which also happens to be in the range of the croquet court). Not to mention the shade canopy of lovely, older trees.

What to do? I’m getting closer and closer to the obvious solution.

Down the steps and through the thicket is a large grassy plot just sitting there with no purpose in life other than to accumulate grass which has to be mowed. It captures the sun for most of the day until the late hot rays disappear behind the trees above. It’s flat. It’s unused. It’s perfect.

What is stopping us? It needs a deer fence and accessible water. It needs to be plowed, or even “hot-dished” – which is what I call the one step, easy method of newspaper/compost mulching throughout the winter, leaving it ready to plant in the spring. I can do the second step with a long hose snaking down the hill and the third all by myself.

It’s the fencing which is out of my expertise, but I think I just might know a personal chef who might like to comply. At least that’s my heart’s desire.

Posted in favorite things, food, Gardening, minnesota life | Leave a comment

BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS

Posted on July 19, 2013 by snowbirdredux

We went through the Minnesota cold, snow and sleet with barely a whimper. No Problem. But bring on the mosquitos and humidity and we’re suddenly dreaming fondly of salty breezes wafting off the Pacific Ocean. Please.

Yesterday I made the mistake of attempting to clear the path down the winding steps through our thicket. Fortunately I had previously checked with my gardening pal, Carole, about the identification of shoulder high brush with suspicious three part leaves. No, she claimed, it was not poison ivy but extremely invasive box elder, which evidently had decided to take over this hill on Mt. Faith. So armed with large clippers, small snipers, shovel, gloves and portable trash basket, I worked my way down through the jungle beneath the lilacs, elm and walnut trees.

When I finally reached the lower part of the property, which opens in both directions along the eastern boundary, I realized that multiple bunches of rhubarb were ripe and languishing and desperately in need of picking. I pulled the red stalks by the dozens, hauled them back up to the kitchen, washed and chopped and accumulated multi plastic bags for the freezer. But while I was chopping, I noticed through the kitchen window that the sprinkler needed moving, bird feeders were empty and some creature had pulled apart the suet basket, so that led to various trips from the garage to the garden, filling and straightening before taking a turn with the “Not Tonight Deer” repellent, especially about the lilies, roses and

morning glories. PEW!

And this might all be a part of a normal, happy gardening day except for the fact that it was 90 degrees with some ungodly humidity number that made it “feels like 100,” as the weather channel likes to say. Well, it either is, or it isn’t. But I suspect it is. And more.

What I failed to realize until much later in the night, was that high humidity and accompanying sweating without proper and frequent gulpings of liquid, can lead to dehydration. And that is why, what with the hot and miserable house, cramping of muscles and general feelings of un-wellness too numerous to mention, last night I slept two and a half hours max.

So that’s strike one against Minnesota. Strike two comes with that state “bird” which is purported to be the loon. But no, it’s the mosquito. You betcha.

I am, it is true, not bothered as much as some people I know (see husband, moaning and swathing his bites with hot, wet compresses from the microwave), but it is disconcerting and a veritable game changer to attempt to garden through waves of zzzssting, swarming vermin. It takes the joy out of the outdoors and sends you running for cover. I was going to say “Deet,” but that brings me to another diatribe.

If I refuse to use noxious, poisonous chemicals on my petunias, how then, can I justify spraying diethyl toluamide on my person? And yes, when bombarded repeatedly and relentlessly by the little black devils, it is easy to succumb to any respite. Please. Please. Just stop!

But upon a bit of research, I found that while Deet works most effectively against chiggers, ticks and mosquitoes, it is so toxic that it can destroy substances such as plastics and synthetic fabrics. And one must ask oneself – what, then, is it doing to one’s skin? And in fact, if you read the small print, it is recommended that any Deet product that contains more than 35% of the diethyl whatever, should never touch the skin. And in the matter of children’s tender flesh – never ever. Better to spray it on clothing. And hope that the fabric is neither plastic nor synthetic. Good luck.

Better, it seems, to eat a lot of fish, brown rice, brewer’s yeast, blackstrap molasses and wheat germ before spending any time outside. The buggers, it seems, are repelled by the B1 vitamin. And just ask our cat, Cosmo, who regularly ingests brewer’s yeast sprinkled on his food, and has never had a flea in all of his 18 years. Or use an organic spray which contains essences of lavender, rosemary, cinnamon, wintergreen and lemongrass. I don’t know if it works as well, but I smell like a French hothouse.

I’m holding off on even commenting on the “tick question” which totally creeps me out. Three people I know have had their lives turned upside down and as far as I can tell, Lyme disease is no better than the bubonic plague. And yes – it’s Out There.

So. What are we doing here?

Well. If you must know, I just needed a quick rant (I thank you for that) and I feel much better now. What are we doing here?

WE LOVE MINNESOTA!

Posted in favorite things, Gardening, insecticides, minnesota life, mosquitos and ticks, WEATHER | Leave a comment

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

Posted on July 12, 2013 by snowbirdredux

I’m a good hostess. Plus, I’m a Libra, so I naturally gravitate to plumping pillows at the same time I’m plying delectables and treats. I invariably worry that I won’t make enough and I pore over menus and plans, arrange tables and tableau, fret about the smallness of the guest bedroom and bath. My husband calls me Paula Plethora and tells me to relax.

He’s right, of course, but I never can relax until I make certain that everyone is catered-to, satiated, and happy.

Here on Mt. Faith I follow the same guidelines with my birds – washing out the feeders every few weeks with soap and bleach, scrubbing the birdbaths and filling with fresh water, offering varied seed and suet. Occasional oranges and grape jelly. I position the shepherd hooks for best access to the shrubbery, so the birds can take turns flitting back and forth from cover. I run the small round sprinkler just for them, rather than the grass. I try to think of everything.

Most of our avian population creates its own housing – nests in trees or bushes. For the most part I don’t worry about the “deadfall” in the thicket, because it makes for good hidey holes and building material. I want my birds healthy and happy.

The house wren is a local resident that just might build a nest in the cavity of a tree, but often prefers a manmade structure. One anxious, courting male, in fact, will prepare a number of rendezvous residences for his chosen ladylove and let her have the final say. I definitely wanted to encourage Mr. and Mrs. Wren because their song is divine and exemplifies the splendor of the garden. (See “Song Birds” 7/27/11 and “Life in the Garden” 7/4/11).

And so, to give him a leg-up in the real estate market, I hung a vast array of listings this year.

Ten in all! And throughout the spring and into the summer, I kept making the rounds of the garden, checking for signs of move-in activity. Nothing. Not one twitterpated sign.

Then one week ago I spotted the happy couple. Bringing bugs and worms to the cow skull!

Go figure? All of my delightful bird houses were carefully hung within leafy branches or in secluded nooks of the garden. The skull is right at the busy entrance to the garage door. The manmade structures are charming and decorative. The skull is primeval. With a step stool I can see into the houses. The skull nest is deep within the interior and only the faint cheepings convince me that they do indeed, have a family.

Oh well. Nature always wins in the end.

Let the wrens plump and ply, fret and fuss.

I need to relax. And enjoy.

Posted in bird houses, Birds, favorite things, minnesota life, Wild Life | Leave a comment

TIME-OUT

Posted on July 7, 2013 by snowbirdredux

No excuses. In the past I have pled bronchitis. And that old devil, Writer’s Block. Both sincerely good reasons to abandon one’s brain along with the keyboard. But this long time-out from posting on Snowbirdredux is wholly related to a mega-family gathering over the end of June at a farm in North Dakota.

And not just because of the plethora of events themselves, which took place over one weekend. There was the Prologue – filled with assorted visions, unending questions, endless lists, on-going and interlaced communication (and miscommunication), along with invasive acts of planning. Then there was the Multi-Event itself. And finally, the Epilogue which has required a slow meltdown of mingled satisfaction and overwhelmingness.

Whew.

It all began approximately one year ago when my cousin Debbie and I, realizing that it had been five years since the last gathering, determined to hold another family reunion. Shortly thereafter, it became known that cousin Kevin’s daughter Kaycee had become engaged and was determined to return to familial roots for the ceremony. “Perfect,” we thought. Combine the two. That will bring the far-scattered Johnson clan together.

But two good thoughts quickly became five and the Mega-Event was initiated. Turns out it was also Aunt Lil’s 90^th birthday. And the pre-scheduled 124^th anniversary celebration of the country church where the nuptials would take place. As well as a chance for cousin Debbie’s husband, Rick, to initiate a long overdue reunion with HIS clan, whose story would fill a best-seller, tear-jerker memoir which could be made into a major motion picture.

At one point I might have protested the unlikelihood of any sense of cohesion given the disparate celebrations which were playing out in the overall scheme. But Debbie, you see, is a clown. And I don’t mean a clown in the dictionary sense of being “a rustic, boorish, clumsy, rude buffoon.” But rather, a real entertainer who, as “La Ditzy,” has performed in such far-flung locales as India and Indonesia and from Canada to California. And while she has never appeared in an actual circus under that guise, I’m assuming that all clowns possess a “big top” mentality which includes the reality of multiple acts going on at the same time. Otherwise, why do we say, when there are numerous activities at once, that it is a Circus? And yes, Debbie IS known in our family for her unbounded energy.

So midst pre-show cooking and ornamentation, wedding and birthday revelry, multi-meals, dancing, fireworks, bonfires, hayrides, Norwegian hot tubs, and all manners of chicanery – it’s been an over-the-top time of celebration

See for yourself.

Rick who, not only has a farm, but raises trees, thought I was crazy when I suggested we needed to go down to the river and haul back large, dead downfall for the wedding venue.

Well. You get the picture! Uff Da!

And blessings on my family.

Posted in COMMUNITY, faith, Family, favorite things, food, friendship, memories | Leave a comment

MIDSUMMER

Posted on June 19, 2013 by snowbirdredux

If it wasn’t for Midsummer, I wouldn’t be here today.

My family likes to tell the tale of Jennings who, in the early 1930’s, returned to his hometown after a voyage in the Merchant Marines. That particular year, his town of Hickson, North Dakota had decided to join together with Comstock, Minnesota, a small community just across the Red River of the North, for a combined Midsummer festival. And somewhere amidst the food and drink and general hijinx, there was a softball game, during which Jennings turned to his father and said – “See that blond who’s the catcher? That’s the girl I’m going to marry.” He had never met her and didn’t know her name, but Harriet Pederson and Jennings Johnson were indeed wed and subsequently, I was born.

Many years later I married another Johnson on another Midsummer. Call me twice blessed.

It’s understandable that the Scandinavians and other northern European cultures would be big on celebrating what is known as “the longest day and the shortest night.” I’m certain they figure that they more than earned a festival after the long, cold, dark of winter. And so they can be forgiven for hopping like frogs around a maypole (true, yes they do!), wearing wildflowers on their head, lighting bonfires to protect against evil spirits and eating a lot of pickled herring while getting tipsy on aquavit.

It’s just possible that Minnesotans will be seen doing the same this year, considering that the summer was exceedingly slow to show up. My favorite weatherman, Paul Douglas in the Star Tribune, in fact, recently wrote – “Waiting for summer? I’m still waiting for spring!” Paul then went on to allude to “uncharted waters” in the same breath with “climate change” and stated, “…this tortured weather pattern may be linked to record melting in the Arctic last fall, which seems to have thrown the jet stream out of alignment.”

In that light and in honor of Midsummer, I would like to recommend a favorite book, “The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight” by Thom Hartmann, who not only writes about the fate of our world but what we can do before it’s too late. He says “Everything you see alive around you is there because a plant somewhere was able to capture sunlight and store it. All animals live from these plants, whether directly (as with herbivores) or indirectly (as with carnivores, which eat the herbivores).”

In the introduction to this book, Joseph Chilton Pearce, author of “The Crack in the Cosmic Egg” and other works, relates a touching story about his eleven year old daughter who, upon hearing about the slaughter of elephants in Africa and, as he put it, “newly possessed of that straightforward irrationality of adults,” paced the floor weeping and crying out, “How can they do that? How?” – then turning, pointed to her father and admonished: “And you just sit there!”

I propose, then, that we celebrate Midsummer this year, not by hopping like frogs around a pole, or drinking too much aquavit, but by taking the season and the fate of our world to heart and not “just sitting there.”

Posted in Family, Favorites Books, global warming, In Memorium, MIDSUMMER, minnesota life, Norwegian, WEATHER | Leave a comment

BEE-WARE

Posted on June 1, 2013 by snowbirdredux

When we lived on the west coast we rarely had a lawn. Let’s face it – water is next to gold in California, grass is incredibly thirsty, and anyway, I would always opt for vegetables and perennial beds given the choice. Therefore the etiquette of sod is not a familiar practice in my life.

Fast forward to Minnesota, where we now live, and where the Religion of the Lawn seems primal and sacred. We now have grass, almost an acre of it, and learning the rules has been hit and miss. For our first two seasons, we hired Blair to take care of it, and that was that. This year, T.M. decided that he needed the exercise and it would be more economical if he got himself a mower and a weed-wacker and joined the guys in the neighborhood in the weekly pursuit of lawn improvement.

Last year I did worry that adjacent pristine green carpets were being inundated by our dandelions, and being an organic gardener, disdained the usual fix – something called 2-4-D – and ordered the latest hot, organic treatment, corn gluten meal. The only problem was that it was a bit pricey and, it now appears, takes at least three seasons of application to even begin to do the job. So this year, with more dandelions than ever, I proposed that good old-fashioned approach – hand digging!

After two days we had a few barrels full of dandelions, only a fraction of weeded lawn, and two very sore bodies.

It was at that point that I came across another thoughtful article about bees in the Minneapolis/St. Paul Star Tribune, which sparked a spirited debate online among Minnesota Master Gardeners, and led to the good news and the bad news.

Kim Palmer, writing in “The Trib,” began her piece by stating what we already know – “Pollinators are in peril. Dire reports of colony collapse disorder, an umbrella term for steep population declines, have been making news for several years. Earlier this month, the U.S. Department of Agriculture released a study finding that 31 percent of honeybee colonies died over the winter.” She went on to explain that a third of the plants in our diet are pollinated by honeybees. So this isn’t just a heart-bust cause for science and bee geeks, but it is a universal food concern for the planet. That’s part of the bad news.

Palmer also stressed the necessity of individuals planting bee-friendly flowering plants in their gardens – monarda (bee balm), purple prairie clover, rudbeckia (black eyed susan), eupatorium (Joe Pye weed), Echinacea (purple coneflower), echinops (globe thistle) – to name a few. And yes, it’s easy to feel that your little garden plot could not possibly save the world and reverse this concerning trend, but I say “Why not try!” And I do. So that’s part of the good news.

The really good news came about when a fellow Master Gardener commented on the fact that the honey bees were blissing out on his dandelions. Thank you Craig! I don’t want to annoy the neighbors, but I hope they understand that this is for a greater cause, a nobler enterprise. Together we can save the planet. Not to mention, possibly keep the bunnies, who love the yellow blossoms, out of the chard and broccoli.

But here’s the really bad news. Kim Palmer, in her article, unleashed a truly horrifying fact. “Plants bought at a garden center also carry the potential of having been exposed to pesticides, including systemic neonicotinoids, which are especially insidious. They get into the tissue of the plant, and it ends up in the pollen and the nectar. People buy pesticide-laced plants and take them home, without realizing they’re introducing something that will kill, not nourish, bees.”

So here I sit, looking at my monarda and asclepias and thistles and coneflower, all ready to plant in my new front garden bed. Wondering if the growing nursery where they originated, inoculated them with neonicotinoids? I “thought” I was helping the cause, doing my little part, planting some yummies for the honey bees. But maybe I’m just feeding their demise with my ill-gotten efforts?

To make the bad news even worse, another Minnesota Master Gardener chimed in with the news that she had attended a workshop last year where two Twin Cities major nurseries admitted they regularly sprayed neonicotinoids on all their greenhouse plants to counter “bad bugs.” So the culprit might come from the initial grower, and only be reinforced by the local nursery.

Now, what’s to be done? I know if I go to Nature’s Garden World and Outdoor Renovations and ask them (politely, of course) if their nursery stock is “high” on nicotine, they will most likely look at me in consternation and alarm, and profess innocence and ignorance. And I’m certain that in reality, they have no idea. I must admit, I’m stumped. I thought I was doing my part by planting all the prescribed bee-friendly plants. I believed I had Big Ag’s back (even if they didn’t know it). And I reveled in the belief that Mom would be proud of my horticultural activism.

Now I’m swinging from the good news to the bad news.

And here’s the latest bad news. I chuckled a few moments ago as the bunny nibbled below on dandelions. “Good gardening choice,” I thought, as I wished him well. But at second glance he was into the perennial bed and decimating a delphinium.

Bee-ware. It’s a war out there.

Posted in bees, food, Gardening, Master Gardeners, minnesota life, Wild Life | 1 Comment

THE X FACTOR

Posted on May 17, 2013 by snowbirdredux

Yesterday the computer “went down” (as they say) just at the moment that T.M. called from the next room to tell me the television had lost it’s signal. When I attempted to call Ottertail Telcom, the local “bundler,” the phones were dead. And my cell phone needed charging.

Two hours later I spoke to a technician who was puzzled by the interruption. He did some configuring of signals from afar, tweaked electromagnetic dials for all I know, hemmed and hawed and finally, reestablished contact with whatever force it is that courses through wires and space.

He said it was “suspicious.” I say it was solar flares.

In case you haven’t heard, an area on our Sun which is named AR 11748, erupted over the past 72 hours with 4 massive flares in the X class (the strongest), one of which is equivalent to the force of a billion hydrogen bombs. NASA assures us that “even if they don’t destroy our planet, solar flares and coronal mass ejections can impact life on earth.” Need I spell out G U L P?

When I googled the event, of course I came across a number of End Timers, who were thrilled to tsk, tsk about our retribution and the fact that we have sinned and didn’t pay attention to the signs. I also learned that the flares could cause blackouts through geomagnetic storms with huge waves of charged solar material striking the earth at millions of MPH. For some reason, and I honestly don’t think I’ve sinned, they struck my house.

What if the Sun was looking down at all the pollution and spilling of Co2 into the atmosphere and poisoning of our oceans, and just went ballistic? “What are they doing, those idiots? I give them a pleasant orbit and the warmth of my rays and they mess it all up.” Picture his version of taking off his belt and giving us a good lick or two. And grounding us with no TV or video games for our folly.

I am it’s true, a proponent of taking care of our planet. I recycle and refuse to use nasty chemicals in my garden. I blah, blah, blah to whoever will listen, about the problems of GMO’s and the need to save the rain forests and the polar icecaps. I plant asclepias and monarda for the bees and butterflies. I don’t believe that the Sun meant to target me personally. After all, it’s difficult to pinpoint Mt. Faith on the Ottertail River from outer space.

Posted in CYBERSPACE, global warming, storm, WEATHER | 1 Comment

PATRIOTISM/MATRIOTISM

Posted on May 12, 2013 by snowbirdredux

I just emailed my friends, Al and Amy. We keep in touch. Usually I let them know how passionate I feel about an issue and they write back and thank me. And let me know what’s going on in their lives – senate bills and progress reports and the like.

Today I felt especially motivated to write my friends after seeing the New York Times article by Justin Gillis – “Earth’s CO2 hits ‘scary’ milestone.”

After reading that “decades of efforts to bring human-produced emissions under control are faltering,” and “It symbolizes that so far we have failed miserably in tackling this problem, said Pieter P. Tans who runs the monitoring program at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration” and “It means we are quickly losing the possibility of keeping the climate below what people thought were possibly tolerable thresholds – Ralph Keeling, Scripps Institute of Oceanography” – after reading all this I felt terrified and justified at the same time.

The article also stated – “For the entire period of human civilization, roughly 8,000 years, the carbon dioxide level was relatively stable near that upper bound. But the burning of fossil fuels has caused a 41 percent increase in the heat-trapping gas since the Industrial Revolution, a mere geological instant, and scientists say the climate is beginning to react, though they expect far larger changes in the future.”

“It feels like the inevitable march toward disaster,” said Maureen Raymo, a scientist at the Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory at Columbia University. And I felt like yelling – “Help! Is anyone listening?”

The “any-ones” turn out to be our elected officials. And yes, I know, that Chinese citizens across the globe may not be in the position to write to their friends, Li-Po and Mai Lin. And have them respond with progress reports. But that should never stop anyone from standing up and be counted.

I was raised by a single mom who walked the neighborhood with petitions for better street lighting. And tuned in daily to her favorite senate hearings on C-SPAN, just so she could tell who voted on what and why and be able to hold them accountable.

Global warming, climate change, whatever you wish to call it, seems so far beyond grasp or control. Someone must be taking care of it? Right? It’s way in the future, if at all. Wrong.

Whether it’s guns, gays or Bengazi, and whether you’re on one side or the other, nothing matters in the end if we let our earth slip away.

I write to all my congressmen on both sides of the aisle about a multitude of issues. My mother taught me to do that. Sometimes I get back generic “thank you’s.” Recently I wrote to my Minnesota state senator, Bill Ingebrigtsen, about a funding for bee studies at the University. The return email said, “I apologize for not getting back to you sooner” and, I know, I know, it was probably from his aides. But I like to imagine that Bill said – “When you write back to Diane, will you tell her I’m really sorry I was slow to respond.” I appreciated that.

My point being, whether it’s global warming or the demise of the bees, it’s too easy to slip into helplessness or hopelessness and believe we can’t make a difference. I get it. But I like to think that my Mom had the best answer. She was always a patriotic citizen who stood up for her principles. She listened and thought and wrote to her congressmen. And I know, she would want us to save our mother Earth.

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

Posted in COMMUNITY, global warming, In Memorium, MOTHER'S DAY, politics, WEATHER | 1 Comment