Chasing Smoke

I've recently become a member of the Brimson Area Volunteer Fire Department as a firefighter and EMS. Additionally, I landed a gig with the forest service in Two Harbors as a "smokechaser" (wildland firefighter). A few days ago one of the gals from the forest service office sent this to my e-mail with "Could have been fairbanks" as the subject. Fairbanks is one of the local townships that our F.D. serves, so naturally this was quite funny for all of the members that this was sent out to.

Sudan fire fighters dressed in drag battle fire

Enjoy.

For the Birds

You've probably noticed that spring is well on its way.
If you're of the "outdoorsy" persuasion you've also probably noticed that chickadees and ravens aren't the only birds out and about anymore.

Robins are starting to appear around our cabin, and more and more birds are showing up at the feeders. Soon birds will start building their nests, so they'll out gathering building materials.

I came across this idea on a website and I thought it was sort of a fun and simple spring activity to help out my little feathered neighbors. The idea is that when birds start building their nests they will take some of the yarn and weave it into the sticks on the exterior of the nest or line the inside with them. I hope it works and that I'm able to find some colorful nests in the woods around my cabin.

Here are some other websites I found for other bird projects:

Bird Houses

Bird Feeders

And don't forget to help out the bats! You may not like them, but they'll keep the misquotes away!

Bat Houses


Here's one of the locals thanking you for your future contribution to their neighborhood housing and community food share project.




Happy spring, everyone! Get out of hibernation mode and spend some time outside!

Inconsistancies and Annoyances: Politics, Practical Apparel Fashion, and the Weather

As a habitual listener to MPR, I've noticed the political term "flip-flop" being thrown around quite frequently, particularly in terms of Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney. I won't go into details about this, as the Republican Campaign has been annoyingly covered in the news for the past few months, but I did find this silly little website that someone put together providing some examples:
Mitt Romney Flip-Flops.

It seems that Republican's policies and opinions aren't the only things that have been inconsistent lately. As I mentioned in my last post, the weather this winter has been very bizarre. Last March it seemed as if we were going to have an early spring, but the warm weather was followed by a snowstorm and persistent cold temperatures until early April-- the typical "early spring" false hope Minnesotans are used to experiencing. This March, however, has been the opposite. It appears as if the snow is gone and Spring is here to stay. We've had record high temps., and the most abrupt transition from winter snowstorms to spring thaw that I can remember experiencing in all my years growing up in Minnesota. We jumped from 30-50m degree sunny weather to 0 degrees with light snow. The next week our area experienced a snowstorm followed by record high temperatures a few days later. In fact, if I could sum up this winter in one word it would probably be "bi-polar". Or to tie a metaphor into my "flip-flop" paragraph, this winter has been "typically Republican".

I've provided photos from the past few weeks that represent the odd weather we've been having.

These pictures were taken a few weeks ago in late February, just a week or so prior to the big snowstorms that hit our area. They're of the hoar frost covering the trees near our swamp one morning.




This photo is of me a week ago when we were getting 70-80 degree weather. Calvin had just returned from a walk with the dogs and he thought my wardrobe was rather funny ("You look like a dumb girl out of a magazine").
It was a baffling experience going outside because there was snow on the ground but it felt like summer. I did a mix and match of summer and winter apparel to fit my surroundings. Anyway, I thought this was a good representation of the weather lately.


Unfortunately, this is the type of photo that gives mukluks a bad wrap. I assure you it was only a joke, and I wouldn't be caught dead walking around like this in public. It does however bring up an interesting social phenomenon that I've noticed as of late.
I lived in Juneau for a year and I noticed that Extra Tuffs were not only practical footwear worn by the fisherman, but also a fashion statement worn by gals with their skirts and guys with their fitted blue jeans. Mukluks seem to have adopted the same sort of trend here in Minnesota. Uggs and faux moccasins were sort of the rage here for a while, but it seems like the practical (and for all intensive purposes, aesthetically unpleasing) Ely born Mukluks have taken over where Uggs left off. It's unfortunate, as I've had my Mukluks (pictured) since grade school and was constantly made fun of for wearing them (Pocahontas was among the many names I remember being called) . Flannels, Carhart pants, and Fur hats are among other practical clothing that has met the sad fate of fashion trend. I wonder, what will the next sacrifice to the Fashion Gods be?

Severe Weather and the "Barter and Trade" System

The snow has finally fallen in northern Mn, and things are picking up in Brimson. The phone at Hugo's, the little local bar, is ringing off the hook--Sledders wanting to know if it's snowing here so they can hit the trails. For a while I thought that spring would be starting in February, but, as it turns out, it will be delayed.


The lack of snow this winter should have interesting ramifications. Most recently, we had a snowstorm that dumped about 8-12 inches on us. Further south states experienced some snow as well, and a flurry of rubble. Apparently the storm systems that swept across the northern U.S. have caused an outbreak of tornadoes in the south. I spent much of this past week at the hospital visiting Calvin (Don't panic. He's alright, folks.) and when we were hit with the storm the news was flooding with footage of towns reduced to rubble.

MPR has covered a few topics on the affects of the lack of snow in MN this year including a decrease in tourism, and a higher risk of wildfires. Following a drop in tourism, small businesses closer to home are also being affected by the lack of snow.Until the recent storm (a review of the storm by a fellow blogger), small-town establishments like Hugo's were taking a blow. As Gary and Jodi (Hugo's owners) explained to me earlier this winter, their bar's primary customers are the locals. In the winter people tend to stay home more often, so their business relies on the snowmobilers to make up the difference. They've been trying to make up for the lack of snowmobilers this year by hosting more events and classes. So far there has been a good turn out, and the locals are grateful for having an excuse to get out of their houses for some mingling and fun.

I'm particularly interested in how the lack of snow will affect the risk of wildfires in our area. Recently I've signed up to become a volunteer Firefighter/EMS for the Brimson township and surrounding areas. It could turn out to be a busy first year for me.

Additionally, I've been on the search for a job. Right now I'm working at Petco part time, and I have an interview this Tuesday for another part time gig. If all goes well I will be working about 32 hours a week with some FF/EMS and Election Judging on the side. I've decided to keep my job below the 40 hr. mark so that I have time to stay at home with the dogs and tend to chores around the cabin.

Aside from that, my experience living in Brimson has been great. Before moving here we lived in a small area out side of Two Harbors called Clover Valley. It was a nice area, but there wasn't any real sense of community. I've met a lot of great people with real interests out here in the boonies, and I think it's a good fit for the type of lifestyle that I would like to live. One of my favorite things about this area and its locals is the 'barter and trade' system that everyone has adopted. Since moving here I've become good friends with a few people, and have a couple of jobs lined up:

Cleaning Toni and Dave's chimney in exchange for a few dozen eggs.

Washing Crystal and JT's dog for a couple bottles of homemade wine.

For the Ringers-- Trimming their cat's nails for some blueberries.

Hugo's is also holding a garden supply/seed exchange soon. You bring some starter plants, seeds, and unwanted garden items in exchange for something that you need for this spring.

I am a firm believer in barter and trade, so I appreciate a community that adopts the system. There's a reason currency exists, but the more I have to deal with money the more I hate it. That's just my personal opinion, anyway.



Last of all, I know I've been a complete failure at posting some pictures. Soon, my friends, very soon--Scout's honor.

Meanwhile, I've provided a couple of photos I took from the internet to tide you over.
The Duluth Lift Bridge in the winter (top). And a gem that I found-- an older picture of the bar that someone scanned and posted online (middle).

Occupy

Much like the people of my age who follow their favorite (and in my opinion, horrible and worthless) television series, I've been up every morning listening to 'Democracy Now' on NPR. I can't remember the last time I've found a movement worthwhile enough to dedicate so much of my time following, but I wholeheartedly support the protesters. They're right for being pissed off, and I've been waiting for a movement like this since George W. Bush took office. Finally the people are vocalizing their frustrations with the system.

Oops, I may have been to blatant with my political views. There's no better way to make your friends enemies, and your enemies even greater enemies than by discussing politics. Oh well, now you sort of know where I stand--- take it or leave it.

That aside, what I've been meaning to point out is the observations that many famous authors have been making about the movement. You can read them on the Occupy writers website. I'm particularly fond of Lemony Snicket's contribution to this collection: Thirteen Observations made by Lemony Snicket while watching Occupy Wall Street from a Discreet Distance.

If you're not familiar with the Occupy Writers I will be focusing my next post on this group. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy reading the articles that are available on the link that I've provided.

China

I've recently returned from a two month vacation in China. A friend and I took a bike trip (contrary to what I usually mean by "bike trip" this was a pedal bike and not a motor bike) from Sanghai to Xiamen. I have plans to write a book about our journey, but I'm having some trouble with the names of places and association of events due to my lack of knowing the Chinese language and geography.

In addition to the general mapping problems, it's also extremely difficult to write for any extensive period of time at my new residence. The cabin I am currently living at has minimal electricity (just recently we've successfully installed some small solar panels), so I'm summoned to either writing on paper or my typewriter. Obviously my preferred medium for writing, especially when recalling an extensive line of memories, is a computer.

With that said, I will be calling upon the Griffin bros. for some help in my new project.

Posts/pictures of the new cabin soon.

Until then, here's a poorly translated, mildly amusing blog posting from when my biking companion and I got separated in a huge city in China. Enjoy.

Lost in Translation (pardon the pun, and horrible movie reference)

Death

is one of the most feared things by humans. Whether it's for selfish reasons (you have a whole slew of plans, goals, and ideas to carry out before you even think about an eternal nap), or perhaps it's that timeless classic of all fears--- fear of the unknown.

Regardless, there a two things in my entire life that have made me feel mildly alright with death.
This Poem is the second most comforting thing I've come across after losing someone close to me. If you haven't lost someone that you're close to yet you won't know what I mean until that day.

The first thing that anyone had ever told me that made a lick of sense in terms of now, and not once I reach the eternal goddamn land of bliss in the sky, involved something someone said to me after my grandfather's funeral. I was relatively young, and therefore I believed this to be a very unique idea which I soon found out was rather cliche. Nonetheless it was a wholesome, unoriginal thought that I found made a tremendous amount of sense compared to the " Don't be sad, he will be waiting for you in heaven with our savior" stuff I had been hearing for several hours at his wake and funeral.

I am not afraid to admit that I was the biggest sniveling ass at that funeral, and someone had taken notice. Their condolence was something offered in passing, and one that I could tell they were saying just to say something to help me. That, I believe, was an admirable act in its own right, but I don't think this person ever imagined that what they said that day would stay with me for so long.

Simply put, they explained that my grandfather is gone physically, but is still living on through all of us. What we've learned from him and the stories he told us will be passed down, and so he will never really be gone completely.
Damn, that's deep Aunt Jeanie!--but really, something in my mind clicked at that moment and there was an immediate sense of relief.

This poem is the only other time I remember that feeling returning to me...

Thanatopsis

TO him who in the love of Nature holds

Communion with her visible forms, she speaks

A various language; for his gayer hours

She has a voice of gladness, and a smile

And eloquence of beauty, and she glides

Into his darker musings, with a mild

And healing sympathy, that steals away

Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts

Of the last bitter hour come like a blight

Over thy spirit, and sad images

Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,

And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,

Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;--

Go forth, under the open sky, and list

To Nature's teachings, while from all around--

Earth and her waters, and the depths of air--

Comes a still voice--Yet a few days, and thee

The all-beholding sun shall see no more

In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,

Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,

Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist

Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim

Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again,

And, lost each human trace, surrendering up

Thine individual being, shalt thou go

To mix for ever with the elements,

To be a brother to the insensible rock

And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain

Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak

Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.

Yet not to thine eternal resting-place

Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish

Couch more magnificient. Thou shalt lie down

With patriarchs of the infant world--with kings,

The powerful of the earth--the wise, the good

Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,

All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills

Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun,--the vales

Stretching in pensive quietness between;

The venerable woods--rivers that move

In majesty, and the complaining brooks

That make the meadow green; and, poured round all,

Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,--

Are but the solemn decorations all

Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,

The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,

Are shining on the sad abodes of death,

Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread

The globe are but a handful to the tribes

That slumber in its bosom.--Take the wings

Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness,

Or lose thyself in the continuous woods

Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound,

Save his own dashings--yet the dead are there:

And millions in those solitudes, since first

The flight of years began, have laid them down

In their last sleep--the dead reign there alone.

So shalt thou rest, and what if thou withdraw

In silence from the living, and no friend

Take note of thy departure? All that breathe

Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh

When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care

Plod on, and each one as before will chase

His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave

Their mirth and their employments, and shall come

And make their bed with thee. As the long train

Of ages glide away, the sons of men,

The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes

In the full strength of years, matron and maid,

The speechless babe, and the gray-headed man--

Shall one by one be gathered to thy side

By those, who in their turn shall follow them.

So live, that when thy summons comes to join

The innumerable caravan, which moves

To that mysterious realm, where each shall take

His chamber in the silent halls of death,

Thou go not, like a quarry-slave at night,

Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.




William Cullen Bryant