The Dutch Girl's Adventures

The Hunt Is On

2021-11-11T08:19:00.003-06:00

Hunting season is approaching rapidly in Wisconsin. Gun hunting that is, bow hunting season is long underway. I joined my husband, father-in-law, and brother-in-law in the woods for the first time in 2011. From sunrise on Saturday morning until sunset on Sunday evening, I would sit in a tiny deer blind with my gun and a little heater, fighting off boredom, trying to stay warm. Some years it was easier than others. But despite diligently going out every year, I have yet to see a buck, let alone shoot one.

This means the question whether or not I can actually shoot a deer has remained unanswered. We hunted in Forest County, where the bucks are few and far between. We saw plenty of does the last couple of years, but nothing with horns. One year I saw a little buck with spikes at dawn, but not worth shooting, even if I could have gotten off a shot.

The buckless hunting frustrated my husband to no end. So last year he embarked on a search for better hunting grounds. Armed with a spreadsheet filled with DNR data, he located the Walhalla of Wisconsin deer hunting land: Buffalo County, where the bucks are plentiful and the racks worthy of mounting. The eighty acres and cabin in Forest County were sold, and the search for new land began.

We found a beautiful forty acres tucked in between Durand and Mondovi, and spent the summer creating a spot for the future cabin, a driveway, and hunting stands for everyone. Mine is the last one to be built. I have a platform but will be spending my ten-year-sitting-in-the-woods-with-a-gun anniversary in a tent. And it looks like this year might actually be THE year. Bow hunting season was off to a good start as you can see.

Leaf Peepers

2021-10-21T16:50:00.007-05:00

We were in the UP last weekend, prepping for the winter. Large quantities of wood were cut, split, and stacked. The new sliding door was sealed, and the source of the water leak was repaired. We were just a smidge too late for peak colors, so you get last year's pictures instead. Complete with pre-braces and pre-pink-haired Lola.

Hanneke

Drink UP

2020-09-06T09:47:00.039-05:00

Before the houses were ours, they were used as a deer camp. Before that, they housed the men that worked the copper mines in the area. And all these men, hunters and miners alike, would sit on their porch after a long day, drink their beer, and chuck the empty bottles in the yard. It is a sea of broken glass out there.

But every once in a while, we find a treasure. This one was given to us by the Montreal river.

Delaware Days Of Yore

2020-07-07T10:21:00.002-05:00

The town of Delaware, MI is a ghost town. The Delaware Mine, a copper mine that once brought business to the area is still there, and you can visit it in the summer for a highly recommended, self-guided tour. Across the road, on Highway 41, are the last two remaining miners' homes.

I found some pictures on Keweenaw National Historical Park's Facebook page that show how our houses used to look in the late 1800's, and the late 1900's when only two homes remained. You can clearly see how much higher the road is now, and why we have foundation issues.

I particularly like the last picture where the two are combined into one. I am not sure who made it, probably someone at the Michigan Tech archives, but I really appreciate the visual of our place in history.

Yooper Update June 2020

2020-06-10T16:08:00.003-05:00

It occurred to me that I haven't shared an update on our Yooper project in quite a while. To be honest, we haven't done much. For the remainder of the summer of 2018 we continued peeling off layers of paneling, lath and plaster, and the likes, only to come across issue after issue. A car went off the road about thirty years ago, for instance, and ended up in the living room. The resulting broken studs were never properly repaired. The foundation was seriously bowed inward due to decades of heavy snow pushing against it. The kitchen floor and joists were rotted through.

So, somewhere in August we decided to temporarily throw in the towel on the one house and focus on the other for a little bit. We cleaned it out, painted the downstairs, and moved in. And that's where we have stayed for the past two years. We did put a new roof on the first home because we feared it would not last another Michigan winter without better protection, but that was about it.

For the past eighteen months we didn't do much more than hang out, enjoy the area, and putz a little bit in the woods. We paddle boarded on the Montreal River, swam in Lac La Belle, encountered a wolf on the way there, and enjoyed the summer weather with family and friends.

But the houses won't fix themselves. And so we've made a plan, along with a budget, for everything that needs to be done. We are currently looking at financing because there is a lot on that to-do list. If we go the bank route, we'll be done at the end of the summer - I remain ever the optimist - and can rent out the houses during the winter sports season. They're perfectly situated for that; right on the snowmobile trail, a few miles from Mt. Bohemia.

If we decide not to finance this endeavor, it will be a ten-year plan with one large project every (other) year. This year's projects, regardless of financing, are putting in a driveway and fixing the foundation. We made a very solid start with the driveway last week, and the foundation repair is done. Onward!

Back To Blogger

2019-10-09T14:23:00.001-05:00

When I started blogging, well over a decade ago, I really enjoyed learning all aspects of the use of social media. I had the two blogs, each with their own corresponding Facebook page, a linked Twitter account, you name it. I spent quite a bit of time trying to grow my audience, teaching myself the use of analytics, and actively participated in the blogging community. Our circumstances at the time were a bit challenging to put it mildly, and acquiring new skills, as well as writing the posts themselves, made for great, not to mention cheap, therapy.

Over time my need for therapy diminished, and with it the number of blog posts, until eventually it all fizzled out. Purchasing the two miner's homes in the UP, however, renewed the urge to write and keep you abreast of our Yooper adventures. What I don't have the time for this time around, nor the inclination, is expanding my social media skills. Due to some Blogger issues last year, I ended up purchasing a Wordpress blog and a new domain. But to be honest, I am not happy with it. I don't like how it looks, I don't know how it works, and I just don't care enough to do something about it. I overcame my Blogger troubles so I moved the handful of Wordpress posts over and am calling it a day.

I am not sure if I am going to keep the blogs' Facebook pages going. They only exist to call attention to new posts. And for that I can use my personal Facebook page just as easy. These updates go remarkably well with posts about the kid and the cat, some random funny videos and memes, and the occasional demonstration of intense displeasure with the lawless grifters that currently occupy the White House. Right?

Montreal Mining Company - June 2018

2019-08-06T12:25:00.000-05:00

We returned to the UP just about every other week last year, to work on the cabins. After cleaning the first one out, we started gutting the inside, focusing on the downstairs. Most of it was lath and plaster which was covered with wood planks in the bar and kitchen, fake wood paneling in the living room, and dodgy sheet-rock in the upstairs bedrooms.

We ripped out the kitchen ceiling, exposing a vaulted ceiling with rough cut rafters. Next we tackled the living room walls. First went the paneling, followed by the ceiling with fake wood beams, and finally the lath. The squirrel that lived in the beams was most displeased with the noise and the dust and decided to move out. It’s quite possible he has moved back in the meantime, but I haven’t seen any evidence of him.

After we cleared the bedrooms of everything but a wood stove, an antique iron bed frame, and a dresser, we set up camp upstairs with cots, blow up mattress pads, and sleeping bags we could leave behind. Once I figured out a semi-permanent solution to keep the mosquitoes out, it was really quite comfy up there. And relatively clean.

To collect all the debris, we had a thirty or forty ton dumpster delivered, I can’t remember the size but it was huge, which we filled up at an alarming speed. We made great big campfires with the wood we cannot reuse, everything else went in the dumpster.

It wasn’t all work and no play, much to Lola’s relief. We finally stopped at the Hanka Homestead, an outdoor museum depicting life of Finnish immigrants in the Upper Peninsula one hundred years ago. We used to drive by it every time we came up from Milwaukee, and it has been on my to-do list forever. It is a very well maintained homestead with several barns and a spring house, looked after by volunteers, and I highly recommend a visit if you’re in the neighborhood. Bring bug spray!

Montreal Mining Company - May 2018

2019-07-29T12:06:00.000-05:00

The original idea for the cabins was to fix them both up at the same time, but that turned out to not be financially viable. Instead we focused on the house that was in desperate need of a new roof and siding. For two reasons, really: 1) without a new roof, it would not last much longer, and 2) it had a working wood stove. We contacted a local contractor by the name of Walt to quote us a metal roof and siding, as well as new windows and a driveway.

Unfortunately the price of steel increased substantially between the initial quote and our order. So much in fact, that we decided to change course altogether. We still contracted out the roof because we’re afraid of heights, but are seriously considering doing the rest ourselves. One room at a time, we will remove the old lath and plaster, and put in insulation and tongue and groove planking. New windows, new flooring if needed, and finally new siding, starting with the front because that needs it most.

We butted heads a little on the insulation. Ryan was a big supporter of spray foam insulation, while I felt using fiberglass or foam sheets would allow us to scour CraigsList and save some money. While I agree that spray foam is the superior product, it requires the whole house to be done at once. I was still making my case for fiberglass when I removed the old insulation in the kitchen, encountering a snake nest with live occupants. Needless to say, I instantly saw the light. Spray foam insulation it is.

After the initial cleaning in April, we returned in May to find the snow gone, in its place a lot of previously buried treasures. We discovered a decrepit golf cart, piles and piles of lumber, an unusually large number of utensils, and tons of beer cans and bottles. In short, more to clean up. Cleaning would be the recurring theme for the Summer of 2018. We cleaned the yard, the upstairs, and even the outhouse. We then moved the outhouse further back on the property because it’s just not that great a thing to have in your outdoor sitting area.

We had help. One of Ryan’s high school friends came up to give us a hand, bringing his daughter to keep Lola company while he and Ryan broke up the bunk beds and chucked a dozen mattresses, old chairs, and other random furniture out the window.

Progress is slow, but it is being made. And every now and then we’re getting a glimpse of what it will look like when it’s done.

Montreal Mining Company - April 2018

2019-07-26T10:49:00.000-05:00

I don’t know about you but I prefer my blog posts with photos, especially when reporting on renovation projects. Yet it is those same photos that trip me up. Because pictures need to be selected, downloaded, edited, and when taken with an iPhone, converted to a different file format. And before you know it, a year has passed, and no progress reporting has been done. That doesn’t mean we didn’t do anything, though. On the contrary.

We worked hard on the UP properties last year. Starting in April, we traveled north just about every other weekend, and cleaned our butts off. Moving from Milwaukee to Wausau the year before meant cutting our trip in half, time-wise, bringing it to approximately four hours.

During the month of April, the world was still covered in several feet of snow, making it impossible to drive onto the property. We would park on the road and slip and slide down to houses, with cleaning supplies and wood for the wood burner.

The previous owner was not able to clean out the cabins for health reasons, and he ended up donating almost everything in them to us. While that was a very generous offer, the cabins were mainly used as a guys’ hunting camp and the decor wasn’t quite what we had in mind, with the exception of the log table/bench you see below. It was put there by the miners some 100 years ago and it, and its mate because there are two, is not going anywhere. They are too heavy to carry out so we renovate around them.

We started by cleaning up the bar area. All of the windows need replacing but for now a blanket covers up the cracks. After that we tackled the rest of the downstairs area.

It wasn’t all work and no play, though. All this snow needs to be appreciated while it’s still there.

New Adventures In The UP

2018-04-19T09:34:00.002-05:00

Hey there! Yes, it’s been awhile. Almost four years in fact. The three of us are well. New jobs, new address, new school--the usual. I recommend using pencil to write down our address. Tempting as it is, I am not going to sum up the past four years. The only thing I will tell you is that Sandman died. We knew it was coming but it was still heartbreaking when it became clear his time had come. He died on November 29, 2017 at the ripe old age of seventeen years, eight months, and an unknown number of days. I miss him. He was such a cool cat.

Of course a new location means a new blog name is in order since our adventures are no longer taking place on the southside of Milwaukee. I have decided to take the location out of the name and go neutral: The Dutch Girl’s Adventures. Nice and simple, and it can follow me everywhere we go. I did run into a Blogger issue when I tried to make the changes on the blog itself. I am able to change the sidebar items but not the theme or the header, and I cannot add a new post, nor edit existing ones. This is a problem, obviously. Hence my move to Wordpress and the new domain: thedutchgirlsadventures dot COM. Dot NET with all my previous posts will remain active until I figure out how to transfer them. (ETA: the Wordpress blog is not working out for me and since I was able to figure out the Blogger issues, I am going to continue working at Dot NET.)

So why pick up my virtual pen again? Well, we purchased some land in the UP. We started small with eight acres back in 2015. But last year our neighbor put his land up for sale and we were able to buy it from him. His acreage came with two cabins. Two very old, very dilapidated mine workers’ homes which we will be fixing up this year. The two houses were part of a row of ten or twelve miners’ homes when the Delaware mine across the road was still in operation, and the only ones left standing.

I am looking forward to posting about our progress. We're going up this weekend to do some more cleaning. The cabins have acted as a deer camp for Yooper dudes for the past twenty-odd years. The left house is also home to a mouse family while a squirrel, or two, resides in the house on the right. And then there's the flies. Oh God, the flies..., so, so many. Evidently they hibernate. All they need is a little heat to awaken. They huddle together on the walls behind posters and such. The higher the paper content, they better they seem to like it. When I started taking down the decor in the makeshift bar, I was surprised by hundreds of live flies. [Shudder.]

Before I host a tour of the inside in the coming days, it's good to remind everyone, ourselves perhaps most of all, that Ryan and I are no strangers to fixing up hovels. Once upon a time we turned this:

into this:

We can do this. And this time around, we have a contractor. More to come soon.

Life’s Little Annoyances

2014-07-01T12:46:00.000-05:00

The planet Mercury is in retrograde. Well, was. Depending on who you talk to, it will move forward again starting either today or tomorrow at 7:49 PM CST. I am not taking any chances so I will keep my head down until tomorrow evening. To be totally honest, I do not put much stock into things like this but it’s nice to have something to blame for all the bad luck that has recently come our way.

While Mercury was traveling backwards through the skies, we dealt with a flooded basement on a daily basis, a leaky roof, and a car that keeps telling us it wants its brakes fixed even though we just paid $160 to establish the only thing broken is the messaging system itself. There are documents that have mysteriously disappeared, I got a parking ticket even though I have a permit, and I just spilled coffee all over myself.

However, as someone pointed out to me earlier, what about the people who are having good luck? The Dutch team comes to mind, with their win over Mexico. A very valid point. One that I don't have an answer for because there is no answer. Well, maybe that Ryan and I took one, or several, for the team?

Whatever the reason, the basement is fixed, the roof will be, the car is not broken, and my parking ticket has been voided. With the exception of the coffee stains, all is well again. Onward and upward we go, Mercury included. And hopefully Team Netherlands as well. Hup Holland, hup!

First Grader

2014-06-17T17:59:00.000-05:00

"So what happened to Pluto?" she asked, as I was putting her to bed. She was talking about the planet, not the dog. No idea where the question came from, but I answered it the best of my knowledge. Lola likes school. She is starting to read. She read to me this evening, instead of I to her.

I am so proud of her, as I suffer through every other word being sounded out.

Take It To The Bridge

2014-06-17T09:24:00.001-05:00

Together with a dozen or so present and former colleagues, Ryan and I handed out water and Gatorade to roughly 8,200 runners in the annual Summerfest Rock ‘n Sole Run last Saturday. We manned Water Station #3 at the top of the Hoan Bridge. It was a wee bit early, we started at 5 AM, but the spectacular view more than made up for the hour!

Handing Out Water to the Runners

Hoan Bridge

Hoan Bridge Up Close

Lake Michigan

Milwaukee Art Museum

Ryan And The Electric Eel

2014-06-16T12:12:00.001-05:00

Sounds like the name of a band, doesn’t it? Or a children’s movie perhaps, a funny TV show, an exciting book? It’s not. It is a tool, a very burly one. They can be rented at your local DIY store to clean up your sh*t. Ryan’s favorite thing to do on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

We are having some issues in the basement. Every time it rains the basement floods. Every time we shower the basement floods. Every time we flush the toilets, the basement floods. Basically anything involving water will cause our basement to flood. The sump pump we purchased is not up to the job because of the silt that blocks the water intake and causes the pump’s motor to overheat.

Egged on by my cousin and me, who were raised to attempt everything yourself before calling in the professionals, Ryan rented the Electric Eel: a burly machine that pushes and rotates a sharp object attached to a steel cable down the drain and cuts up whatever is in its way. Then you pull it back out, insert a bigger sharp object and do it all over again. Until the obstruction is completely gone and your water flows freely again. Sounds easy enough, in theory.

The reality is a little different. First off, you don’t stick the Eel down the drain in the floor but open up a pipe that connects to the main line, usually located closer to the street. The Home Depot guy told us the blockage is always in that pipe. In our case we found out there was nothing to open up. We found a pipe going down into the newly poured cement floor at the front, but it is not capped off. That can’t be good. When we looked inside, we could not see anything alarming. We figured the blockage was probably not there, but in the part that’s under our floor. If that pipe had been blocked, then our basement would have flooded from there as well since it was not closed off.

But what do we know, we’re not professionals, and the tool was paid for, so we stuck the Eel down that pipe anyway. We pushed the line down as far out as it went, about thirty feet. Then we hauled it back in. That was the fun part. The engine had some trouble pulling all that weight, and Ryan had to give it a hand. Hanging directly over the pipe, he got up close and personal with the contents of the sewer. He was not happy and very vocally so. It did stink, I’ll give him that, but Lola’s diapers were so much worse. What was truly awful though, was the brown splatter flying off the cable when it rolled back up onto the reel. I held up a piece of cardboard to catch most of it, but not all.

The worst part of it was that it didn't do any good. The water pooling in the drain was still there. Nothing had changed. We had only proven to ourselves what we already knew: we are the exception to the rule and our blockage is under the house. And for that we need a professional. So we hauled the heavy-ass machine back up the stairs, hosed it off, and took it back to the Home Depot. For the time being, we’ll take short showers and hope it doesn't rain. Oh, the joy of home ownership.

All Cats Look Gray in The Dark

2014-06-13T13:41:00.000-05:00

Now that we have traded in the trendy industrial neighborhood for a residential one, we run into typical residential issues. For instance our neighbors have cats, just like we do. And their cats are curious, just like ours are. So when they see the basement window ajar, to accommodate the hose pumping out the flooded basement, they venture inside to explore our home. And no doubt, help themselves to the cat food in the kitchen.

While the humans are very friendly towards the neighborhood pets, the animals are not. The older, grumpier cat in particular. Sandman howls at the intruders in a way that makes your hair stand up straight. Naturally this occurs in the middle of the night. And when he’s chased them off, he turns on the young, happy-go-lucky cat relatively new to our household and howls and hisses at him. Makes for long nights, I tell ya.

It has made me wonder if Sandman’s eyesight might be failing. I cannot discuss this with Ryan because he does not want to consider the fact that his boy is fourteen years old now, a most respectable age. But being an older cat comes with some problems. When he thinks no-one is looking, he obviously has trouble with jumping onto chairs. He has stopped hunting a while ago. He will walk straight at me but jump with four feet in the air when I call his name.

The other night he walked up to Fluffy ever so cautiously, with his ears flat against his head. When he was about a foot away from him, he visibly relaxed in an “Oh, it’s you” kind of way and walked off. That really convinced me he can no longer see very well. There is no visible sign of cataracts, or any other obvious eye problem. Perhaps I should perform some of the cat vision tests I found on the web. Yes, they do exist and no, they do not involve a chart.

Then again, we just moved into a new house where nothing is where it should be. And Sandman is not bumping into any boxes or furniture. Perhaps he’s just grabbing his chance to beat up the little pest that has forced him to share snuggles, attention, and food. I wouldn't put it past him. Most likely things will settle down when we unpack all those boxes and the house starts looking more like a home instead of a warehouse. It will certainly improve my mood.

Back By Popular Demand

2014-06-04T13:55:00.002-05:00

I was recently requested on Facebook to do a little blogging. I guess I should if I mean to keep this online diary somewhat up to date. And in truth, we have had some big changes around here since my last post. (My butt is all better, by the way, though it took a lot longer than seven to ten days.)

Big Change One

Santa Claus brought Lola a kitten for Christmas. She really, really, really wanted one and he caved, knowing that Sandman is still not a fan of her and she does love animals so. Fluffy, who also goes by the name Junior, is a cute little puffball. Contrary to what the book says about Birman cats, he is a very vocal cat. We try to train him to be quiet, by spraying him with water when he gets out of control, but it does us little good. He does seem to have developed a love for bathtubs and holds no grudges whatsoever about the water. Sandman has warmed up to him, after pouting for a little bit, and while they do not snuggle, they do play together every day.

Big Change Two

After many frustrating and fruitless attempts to find gainful employment in Milwaukee, I have finally returned to work. I too work for our friendly local cable provider now, just like my husband. After two weeks of intense training, I am learning the job on the job. I am in the quality control business now, where my attention to detail and somewhat anal tendencies are put to good use. It’s fun. I like my colleagues and for the first time in my life, I can ride my bike to work. Not that I have, but I could if I wanted to.

Big Change Three

We have moved. Again. As soon as it became obvious we would be staying in Milwaukee for a while, we started looking for a place of our own. Our apartment was fabulous, but the price tag was not, and there were a few other things as well. We bought a cute little house a couple of blocks down the street and we moved into it last weekend. You would think with all this moving experience we would know better than to underestimate the job, but no. However, it’s done and the place looks like a hoarder’s paradise. After three days of searching for it, I have finally located the missing coffee maker. Next on the docket is creating a path to the cable outlets so that our friendly local cable provider can transfer our services.

So much for the most recent adventures from the Southside. I am sure there is more, and who knows, perhaps I will be a little more disciplined in the future and post on a semi regular basis again. Maybe even include a few pictures. Just as soon as I can find my computer. And the charger. And my camera. And the cable to connect my camera to the computer…

Butt Hurt

2014-02-05T07:48:00.002-06:00

Sunday was a glorious day. Sunny, blue sky, not too warm, not too cold. My kind of outdoor sports weather. So Ryan and I gave Lola away to my cousin and the two of us went cross country skiing together. We had never done it but had always wanted to. Whitnall Park, just south of Milwaukee, rents skis and snow shoes for the afternoon.

It’s not as easy as it looks. Those skinny skis are mighty slippery and the forward walking motion is a little awkward. Without proper trails –and what trails there are have been destroyed by people walking dogs, snow shoers, sleds, and butts- it’s even more difficult. I fell within seconds of taking off, and again the first time the trail went downhill. But after a while we got the hang of it and found it a most enjoyable way to spend the afternoon.

Until I fell for the third time. It was a flat surface, and I wasn’t even moving. But somehow I lost my balance and fell on my butt. And this time, there was no layer of fresh powder snow to cushion the fall. It hurt. A lot. But I got up and continued on my way, telling myself to ski it off. Not that there was a choice about it, we were on the far end of the park.

I did take off my skis to go down a particularly steep bit since I hadn’t made it downhill at all without falling, and I didn’t want to risk my tailbone again. Especially after Ryan flew into the trees in a most spectacular way there. When we got to the end of the trail however, I found I was not able to bend over to take off my skis. Not good.

And so, after dropping Lola off at school Monday morning, I continued on to St. Francis to ascertain whether or not my tailbone was broken. It wasn’t, merely severely bruised. The pain should go away in a day or ten. I can’t take any good drugs for the pain since they cause constipation and that is the last thing you want in my situation. Ibuprofen it is then.
Bummer. At least I am not a broke ass, just butt hurt.

Winter Sports

2014-01-20T17:20:00.002-06:00

Like every self respecting big city, Milwaukee has a downtown outdoor ice rink. Much ice skating fun there is to be had, with upbeat music blasting from the speakers and hot chocolates provided by the local Starbucks.

Unlike other big cities, Milwaukee also has an indoor Olympic training oval, the Pettit Center. Also a great place to go ice skating, sans hip drinks and tunes. With, however, real live Olympians running about.

When the Olympians leave the ice, ordinary people can skate there, too. We signed Lola and her cousins up for skating lessons this winter. Every week, they learn the basics of gliding on ice.

Under the watchful eyes of their dads, Lola, M. and C. are learning to balance on skates, fall and get up, glide, and skate backwards. With varying success, I must say. But they are having a lot of fun.

We also signed Lola up for six weeks of skiing lessons, another winter pastime she loves. And while she has not yet set her sights on Mt. Bohemia, her father’s favorite spot, she is getting to be quite good.

Putzing In The Woods

2013-11-12T14:28:00.001-06:00

It's November and that means deer season is rapidly approaching. Ryan is getting in the mood and will be spending every single weekend this month up north. This past weekend Lola and I joined him. It was fun putzing around in the woods and prepping for Opening Day. On Sunday we even woke up to a dusting of snow. Lola was beyond excited, jumping up and down on the bed.

When I say "dusting," I mean dusting

What's different this year is that my father-in-law has purchased an acre or two, three, eighty across the road. Instead of just finding a good spot to put up the deer stands, Ryan and he were talking about clearing some popple trees, as aspen trees are often referred to, developing food plots, and building deer stands to last.

She does not hunt, but tree stands she likes

We found all sorts of goodies while we tromped around the woods. Empty nests, funky fungi, even a few deer!

I picked a nice spot for me on the south west corner of the land, amid a triangle of pine trees. This spot is known hence forth as Hanneke's Pine Bowl. Ryan liked it too. In fact, after we finished playing around there, he moved his tree stand over to my spot and will continue to bow hunt in my bowl. He better not get my buck!

A good spot indeed

My stand in progress

Mind The Gap

2013-07-11T06:08:00.001-05:00

New Town, New Title

2013-07-10T08:51:00.000-05:00

Five years Ryan promised me. Five years in this house. He gave me two. Which is still a record, I have to say. To be fair, he didn't really have a choice. His new job is in Milwaukee and that three hour commute from the Northwoods wasn't going to cut it. But that doesn't change the fact that once again we are moving and I still hate it with a passion.

Since we're going to the big city, we opted for the full on urban experience. We rented a loft. This country life I have fallen in love with has come to a temporary halt. Our goal is still a B&B in the middle of nowhere at some point in the future. But that's at least ten years from now and in the meantime we will go through life as city slickers.

We moved about half of our stuff, the essentials, to Milwaukee at the end of June. But if you recall, we had roughly 400 plants started for our garden this year. Since our loft comes with a 5,000 square feet roof deck with ample space for gardening, the slightly overgrown plants came with. Our U-Haul looked like a jungle.

What we are lacking at the moment is storage space. We no longer have a pantry, an attic, a basement, or a garage. Nor do we have dressers and a hutch. Those big pieces of furniture were left behind in favor of the plants. We are not sure if we should leave them up north for staging purposes or just get it all over with and rent another big truck.

I still work in Green Bay two days a week. As long as the house is still ours, I sleep there on the floor. Every time I go back, I pack up a box or two, three, and bring them back with me. I also take advantage of the internet connection because that has not yet been set up in the new house. Nor has the phone.

The joys of starting over. Soon we will have it all organized again. Soon...

Flying Solo

2013-06-03T10:47:00.001-05:00

As I looked out my kitchen window yesterday, I noticed a baby bird in the grass, under the big ole’ pine tree in our backyard. It appeared to have fallen out of its nest. While I looked on, its parents, a pair of common grackles, flew in and fed it. Then mama bird, or papa bird, moved back a few feet and called out. The baby bird hopped up in response, flapping its little wings. I watched in amazement at this family effort to teach the fledgling the basics of flight.

The baby grackle wasn’t the only one unfolding its wings yesterday. Earlier this week Lola announced out of the blue that she wanted her training wheels removed from her bike. She was ready to ride without them. Dressed in full-on protective gear, we set out to teach our girl how to ride. She didn’t realize it, but she caught on within seconds. Turning her bike was a little tricky though, and our little perfectionist was ready to quit when she didn’t get it right on her first try.

I remember my first bike ride. It was my sixth birthday and when I entered the living room there was a shiny red bicycle waiting for me. A friend taught me how to ride it that same day. She held on to my saddle for a minute or two and then let go. That was all there was to it. I can still picture the look of surprise on my mother’s face when I raced by. I had told Lola about this a few weeks ago, and I suspect that’s where her desire came from. But her experience wasn’t as rewarding as she thought it would be.

“I thought dad would hold on for two minutes and then it would be perfect,” she said to me, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Poor kid, blessed with her parents’ perfectionist genes. I don’t know why her first solo ride disappointed her so much she wanted to give up; it looked just about perfect to me. With a little prodding she was willing to get back on her bike and give a few more tries. And lo and behold, she did it. Racing up and down the street, she gave us a big grin. We still have to work a little bit on her right turn, but she mastered the basics yesterday.

When we returned to the house, I walked into the backyard to see how the baby grackle was getting along. He was nowhere to be found. I guess he mastered the basics, too.

Of Porcupines And Salty Cars

2013-05-31T12:47:00.001-05:00

The Reverend B. and his lovely wife and daughter were in the neighborhood this week, and since we haven’t seen them in over three years, we went to visit them, of course. He is not really a reverend; we call him that because he married us. And they weren't really in the neighborhood either; we met them in Wilderness State Park in the lower peninsula of Michigan, well over four hours away. But it is a lot closer than Seattle so we happily crossed the scary bridge and ventured downstate to spend the night in a cabin with no electricity and no plumbing. We felt right at home. We could have done without the Washington weather, though.

Outside the cabin, next to the outhouse, was a strange rectangular box, about two and a half feet high, with swinging doors on one end but no cover. It looked like a small hockey rink that could hold one car. We all wondered what it was. On the way back home, when we dropped off the key at the park’s headquarters, Ryan asked about it. It turned out to be a porcupine protection box. The creatures come out in the spring and are attracted to the salt on the undercarriage of parked cars. They can do quite a bit of damage we were told. We just laughed and drove away.

But then the car maintenance light suddenly came on.

Followed by the cruise control failing.

The left headlight no longer works.

Neither does the right rear light.

Coincidences? We don’t think so. We made it home safely despite the car slowly coming undone. But we are not laughing anymore. @#$%^&* porcupines!

Animal Planet LIVE

2013-05-26T09:00:00.002-05:00

It’s Memorial Day weekend and we have all gathered at my parents-in-law’s house. The long, snowy winter has added some extra inches to the water level in the lake but it’s still a long way off from what it once was.

As usual Lola and her cousin L. were hunting for frogs down by the water. Despite the very loud croaking we hear at night, there were not that many frogs to be found yet, just dozens of ticks.

At long last the girls came back with one frog, a lovely green specimen.

What they also found was a garter snake. It was a decent sized one, about three feet long. After it was admired by all, the girls took their temporary pets around the house while the adults remained behind on the back deck to relax a little, enjoy the sun, and watch Ryan and his brother put the dock in the water.

Queue blood-curdling scream. The adults jumped up as one and ran to the front of the house, trying not to scrape their bare feet on the gravel path, fully expecting to find massive amounts of blood. Fortunately none of the children were injured. The same could not be said for the frog, however.

It seems the snake and the frog met, and the snake did not play nice.

It took the snake about ten minutes to devour the frog in its entirety. After recovering from her initial shock and horror, it was she who let out the ear-piercing scream, Lola returned to the scene of the carnage, curious and fascinated although still very upset.

“Thanks for the free lunch. See ya..!” And off it went, full belly and all, back into the woods.

Summer Evening At The Ball Park

2013-05-21T06:17:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was the Rangers’ first baseball game of the season and they played well. Sadly they lost. But Miss Lola got a hit without having to use the tee. Proud parents of course, but the slugger herself was not impressed.

“I have done it before.”

Must be her number. It was hot, the mosquitoes were atrocious, but the smell of brats on the grill and the crack of the bat hitting the ball made for a perfect summer evening.