I’d been complaining about the late spring this year. No marsh marigolds, No loons. And where were the peepers? Especially “peepers.” But like a good northerner, I accepted the cold, unfriendly spring season and settled back to wait for better times. However, one evening, I reached my breaking point. I settled in to watch the local news, relishing the peace... READ MORE >
This column is dedicated to the memory of my mother. She was born in Siberia and had many exciting stories to tell. One was the experience of wolves following her father’s sleigh. I believed it as a child, but as I got older, I became skeptical. I’m sorry I was. I now have my own list of wolf stories and... READ MORE >
The picture hung in my grandmother’s parlor: a winter scene in which a solitary wolf stands on an overlook, gazing down on the twinkling lights of a village below. I was captivated by it and still am captivated by wolves. In this neck of the woods, we live side-by-side with these predators, and many of us have our own private... READ MORE >
The ice of March has come and gone with a vengeance. I found out the hard way one fateful day when I didn’t wear my Yaktrax. I knew the driveway was icy. I knew a fall could be disabling, but did I listen to that little inside voice of reason? Did I ask my husband to attach my ice grippers... READ MORE >
While this whole pandemic flu situation brings feelings that range from frightened to frustrated, I’ve found some positive aspects. Venice, Italy is one example. Apparently, the water in the canals has cleaned itself due to the absence of tourists and gondola rides. In fact, according to one web site, the water is cleaner than anyone remembers. Waterfowl, fish, even dolphins... READ MORE >
At this late-winter-early springtime of the year, I find myself reminiscing about my maple sugaring experience right here Cook County. Following our year on Tucker Lake, Dick and I lived in a rented house on Maple Hill. The house was old and rickety, sitting halfway up Maple Hill, but the view was stunning. One early March day, my eyes lit... READ MORE >
The operative word for the day was “cold” both inside and out. My husband and I attended our granddaughter’s gymnastic meet in the Twin Cities last weekend. It was held at the Minnesota State Fairgrounds. We, old-timers, referred to the building as a “hippodrome.” My granddaughter used the proper name, “The Lee and Rose Warner Coliseum.” It didn’t really matter.... READ MORE >
By Amanda St. John, Director of the Public Library There is no wrong way to write a memoir, but plenty of hazards can trap a writer in the early stages of manuscript development. Joan Crosby, author of Tucker Lake Chronicle: Thirteen Months in the North Woods (2019), returns to Grand Marais Public Library on Wednesday, March 11 at 1:00 p.m.... READ MORE >
I sit alongside my husband in our vehicle, gazing at The Lake. It’s not ice-bound this year even though it’s mid-February. We are at the Pincushion Overlook, high above the little town of Grand Marais. Below, Lake Superior is putting on a gray and gold show. The gray of the overcast sky and the gray of The Lake are pierced... READ MORE >
Flu, flu, flu… It’s talked about everywhere: on the national news, the local news, on the streets. My philosophy has been to ignore it and hope it goes away, but I woke up several days ago, throat sore, muscles achy. I was definitely “under the weather.” Not wanting to spread this “bug,” I called, texted and emailed, canceling appointments and... READ MORE >
