In September 1969, Dick and I began our year in the wilderness on the edge of the BWCWA in the Superior National Forest. Our small cabin had neither road access nor amenities. This is a reprint of one of many stories about our lives during that special year. Halloween on Tucker Lake was very quiet, but one good thing resulted.... READ MORE >
In September 1969, Dick and I began our year in the wilderness on the edge of the BWCA in the Superior National Forest. Our small cabin had neither road access nor amenities. This is a reprint of one of many stories about our lives during that special year. Food was on my mind as I pushed the canoe from the... READ MORE >
The long line at St. Louis Lambert International Airport serpentines back and forth between the cordons. “Oh great,” I think as the security guard returns my driver’s license and boarding pass, “Just what I feel like doing, standing in line.” But I join the throng. Here we are, waiting to go through airport security…all ages…teen-agers…toddlers, elementary children with young parents…... READ MORE >
I’d seen the plant many times but never really noticed it. Tall and bushy, with oval leaves and minuscule orange tubular flowers, it spread in large clumps alongside our RV at Lac des Mille Lac. At first, I only saw it as background to a busy little hummingbird who harvested its sweet nectar several times a day. Hummingbirds were my... READ MORE >
Where is the crosswalk on the corner of Highway 61 and Third Avenue West? You all know the spot I’m talking about: the corner where Java Moose coffee shop is located: the triangular corner where Highway 61 splits off into main street on one side and continues as Highway 61 on the other. It’s the point at which traffic (meaning... READ MORE >
A snapping noise echoes through the forest. I set my berry-picking bucket down and listen. Is it a bear? I really don’t want a meet-up with a large wild animal since I’m alone in the woods, picking blueberries at an undisclosed patch somewhere up the Gunflint Trail. The sound does not repeat, so cautiously, I kneel and continue dropping berries... READ MORE >
The alarm wakes me with its blaring beep and the first thing I do is peep out the window. Yep. Rain is falling. Rain…who needs it on a golf tournament day? But there it is. Not a driving downpour, just a gentle steady dripping. I haul myself out of bed, infuse my system with caffeine and prep for a wet... READ MORE >
(Watching children shriek and play on the lawn of a local lakeside restaurant last weekend evoked childhood memories of summer evenings in my old Minneapolis neighborhood.) My mother’s yard was full of flowers and rowdy, rambunctious kids. Not a likely combination, but it worked. Every summer night, the neighborhood kids congregated at our house to play games. Our large lawn... READ MORE >
Rummaging through my rag-tag pile of cookbooks, a title jumps out—Farm Journals’ Country Cookbook, Copyright 1959. I remember buying it at a yard sale. It’s a cookbook chock full of recipes that will put meat on your bones and cellulite on your thighs. No short cut, low-fat, sugar-free recipes between these hardback covers. But every recipe is guaranteed to be... READ MORE >
Every time I feel sorry for myself or grumble about some insignificant thing like a clogged sink, I think of Linda. We met on the front patio of the Country Inn and Suites where Dick and I stayed during this year’s Back to the Fifties car show. Eight years had passed since I’d attended this hugely popular car show at... READ MORE >
