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Garden Grunt

There’s a certain pleasure in being grunt labor for a garden. For one, it doesn’t involve much thinking. My wife, DyAnne, is the gardener in our family and she works out the math behind the plants. Occasionally, I’ll throw in a suggestion about fertilizer. Life doesn’t get more basic than assessing effective shit.
 
For another, I get to mess with power tools and play in the dirt. We just got a new tiller that required assembly. I’m an instruction-follower and I don’t know why.

Fiction Comes from Somewhere

Quality art is meant to be experienced in perpetuity. The good stuff unfailingly renders deeper elements that might have previously gone unnoticed, do well to experience again or offer significance to the context of our current circumstances. Such is the case with the television series Northern Exposure.
 
My wife, DyAnne, and I just finished our annual Northern Exposure party. It’s a weekend-long affair that began as a single-day event with family when the series was in its heyday.

I Am the Puck

When adults get to reminiscing about sports heroes from their youth, they often ooze with cliché and sensationalism. The story of Ruth and Gehrig promising homeruns to a kid in his hospital bed made it to Hollywood. One of mine only made it as far as a parking lot. But to me, it’s no less sensational.
 
I recently read a story in the New York Times about Bobby Hull of the Chicago Blackhawks giving his game-worn jersey to a kid after the team won the 1961 Stanley Cup.

Act Your Age: The Rivalry Runs Deep

So, I’m in a bar. Billy’s to be exact. It’s a family kind of place, warm, welcoming, spacious and in the country. It’s also the finish line for the John Beargrease Sled Dog Marathon that ended last week. Billy’s features outstanding food and servers almost as fun as a young man I met.
 
The final dog team had arrived and Billy’s was packed with mushers, handlers, race officials, volunteers, and fans like my wife and me.

Careful with Your Carcass

Holiday trimmings aren’t just décor at our house. In keeping with the holiday spirit, we occasionally share food trimmings from the bones of animals who gave themselves to us with our neighbor ravens. Now that the holidays have wrapped up, we’d like to think the ravens had a bountiful season from our yard. 

Lupin's Humor

We have an Alaskan husky in our family. Her name is Lupin. She’s got that northern look kind of like a miniature wolf. Knockout appearance aside, I’ve never met a being so full of life coupled with an irritating sense of humor. The dog puts me in the aisles sometimes… Sometimes.

I make no pretenses, I’m not a musher. But my wife, DyAnne, and I are big mushing and sled dog fans. We have a kick sled for Lupin made of old hockey sticks, cross-country skis and duct tape. Ironically, the sled is for her, but I seem to be the one who gets the exercise.

Shuttle Stories

October snow is nothing unusual in Northern Minnesota. But it typically melts a few times before sticking around for the next five or so months. This year, the weather is messing with our mental clocks. Our first October snow blew in wet, heavy and deep. Then the temperatures dropped and froze it solid. Now into November, snowbanks are jagged with ice chunks. This snow won’t be leaving anytime soon.

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