Category: Uncategorized

Skittles

I stopped out at Stephanie’s farm today to check on Skittles. Yea, she has a new name; we could hardly call her Blue Eyes anymore– they’ve turned dark brown in the last few months. Skittles, apparently, has something to do with the fact that the dogs follow her around; I didn’t inquire further.

She lost her spots a while ago, and is growing fast. I took some video of her bounding around the place, but I haven’t edited it yet. She sure seems happy, though, and I’m glad she’s accepted there as one of the gang.

I think she may be a little too dependent on Stephanie, the way she follows her around. I read a story once about a gal who also took in an orphaned fawn, and it became so attached to her that it would jump in the shower with her. Stephanie assured me her situation wasn’t that dire… yet.

It was a nice visit, but when feeding time came, it was time to get out of the way!

–photos by me

Will Rogers Quote

I love rugged old fences, so when I spotted one on the side of the road, I pulled over to take a picture. I would try to get a few of the horses in the shot, especially the colt hiding behind mama. Zooming in, I noticed the insulators and wire running down the length of it– my rustic gnarled fence was electric!

When I was a young boy, my family was visiting our cousins on their farm, and one of the older boys challenged us naive city slickers to pee on the electric fence. Well, I was having no part of that, but my brother was the type of person who just had to, for what reason, I’ll never know. And let me just say, there are those who claim you can’t get shocked that way, but there was no mistaking my brother’s extreme “discomfort”.

Anyway, that brings me to the Will Rogers quote:

“There are three kinds of men.

The ones who learn by reading,

The few who learn by observation,

And the rest of them, who have to pee

On the electric fence for themselves.”

–Photo by me

Four Fathers

My son Aaron and I took a drive yesterday to a quaint old country church south of Red Lake to look for the graves of our four forefathers: Ole, Jens, Tom, and Harry. I’d been there once years ago, but it was new to Aaron.

Along the way, the geese were amassing in the fields. Every so often, a huge flock would lift from the field like a blanket of fog, and begin their long flight south.

As we passed Red Lake, I felt it was my patriotic duty to capture the colors of the red ferns, white swans, and blue heron.

We made it to the church, and because all country churches are nearly identical, I walked out to an adjacent field for a photo of it from a more unique view.

Unless you live near your family’s cemetery, it’s a little unnerving to see your own name on a headstone. But in another way, perhaps it makes it a little easier to accept one’s eventual place in the big picture.

For now, it’s important to live my life right, by following my heart, so that when the time comes, my forefathers will be waiting for me with open arms. It won’t be Valhalla, for I am no warrior, but I’ll be in good company.

–Photos by me