Exodus from the Alamo

The Anatomy of the Last Stand Myth.  Click on Mark Twain above to go to Troutbirder II book reviews

In memoriam

 

 

 

Click on the link and wait a bit for it to load. Click again on the control bar below the screen to start.  This presentation in memoriam  of Troutbirders best friend and trusted companion - Baron

http://www.southeuclidpolice.com/K-9Presentation.html

To honor  Baron's brothers and sisters, the GSD's who help our soldiers defend the nation.

 

 

The Martian

Review on Troutbirder II

A Serious Addiction?

It  all began when I was working at one St. Paul's first supermarkets in the late fifties. . I was in high school at the time and my school (Harding) had gone to split shifts due to overcrowding.  Seniors and juniors attended from 7 a.m. to noon.  Afternoons were free until my father decided I had too much slack time on my hands. A carryout boy at the supermarket was my destiny from 1:00 to 9:00 then supper and homework.  My eventual promotion to full time dairy case and frozen food stocker soon followed.  When the guys with the big dairy and frozen food trucks pulled up behind the store I volunteered to help them unload.  The result was two years of free ice cream and other frozen treats for me. I overdosed on it all... mostly ice cream. It isn't that I can't
or won't eat ice cream these fifty years later but now its only rarely. Enough is Enough.

Yes it's Mrs. T with the addiction.  Three hundred and sixty five days a year (or close).  That also counts visits to the "Dairy Queen."  Here we are "imbibing" at a local ice cream shop in Wisconsin...:)

A Heavenly Conversation

I’ve noted more than a few times on this blog my obsession with converting
two acres of lawn here on Oak Hill to sunny plots of native prairie and amongst the trees to woodland wildflowers. And thru the wonders of the internet I recently ran across a heavenly conversation to buttress my hopes…. Photos of our reconfigured "lawn" by Mrs. T.  :)

GOD: to ST. FRANCIS: Francis, ... You know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.

St. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass. GOD: Grass? But, it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.

GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy. ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week. GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay? ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags. GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it? ST. FRANCIS: No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away. GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away? ST. FRANCIS: Yes, Sir.

GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work. ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.

GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life. ST. FRANCIS: You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.

GOD: No!? What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose? ST. FRANCIS: After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves. GOD: And where do they get this mulch? ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.

GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight? ST. CATHERINE: 'Dumb and Dumber', Lord. It's a story about.... GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis.

Deforestation

It seem some of the worldwide problems like climate change and its cousin deforestation are coming home here to our home on Oak Hill. Think of places like the Amazon Basin and the rapidly disappearing tropical rainforest. Here, in our woods, it's not rapacious loggers but a fungus that causes Oak Wilt. Last year we lost several huge white oaks. This year the total is seven.  I'm sick about it as you can    understand. And Lily is worried as well.....

 

Two Prairies

I have mostly shady gardens now that we built a new house in the woods on "Oak Hill." I love our native prairies though and visit them often. Two of my favorites are Hayden Prairie in Iowa and and my friend Gary's restored prairie near Forestville State Park here in southeastern Minnesota.
He bought a 30+ acre farmstead which partially consisted of some untillable land covered by burdock and other weeds. An acre at a time, he has begun to remove the weeds and restore the land to natural prairie. In each season the prairie now does it's thing with native grasses and flowers adding color to the landscape. Late summer and fall it is at its peak although spring and early summer have their moments as well. Here is what I saw the last week in July several years ago.

The cup plant is one of many types of sunflowers found here. Several grow six feet or taller. It holds rainwater in the small "cup" formed by the intersection of it's basal leaves. A little water might come in handy...

The compass plant is another member of the sunflower family. It's unusual name derives from the fact that it bottom leaves orient themselves in a north south direction. Get lost on the prairie and you've got help!












With Bergamont (Monarda) everywhere one is sure to see many butterflies. As with many wildflowers, domesticated and hybridized descendents can be found in many gardens, but the native plants have their special charm.


Grasses bind things together with Blue Stem reminding us of the tall grass prairie that flourished here before the arrival of the plow.

Hayden Prairie is located in northeastern Iowa about 5 miles due east of Lime Springs. It has reportedly never been plowed. Consisting of over 300 acres, it is a place where one can wander about almost sure to find some interesting surprises.

Hayden Prairie near Chester Iowa on the Minnesota - Iowa border/

Blazing Star

Canada Tick Trefoil

Goldenrod

Rattlesnake Master

Swamp Milkweed

Common Yellowthroat  Warbler

Mrs. T. - The Wildflower Paparazzi.

 

 

Tough Owling

As a  birder, I always  have a tough time spotting and photographing owls. Now, surely, I don't expect to see a river of them flying by, as in this shot of snow geese passing over the freeway in Nebraska. Nor as easy to spot as this screech owl was. It took up residence in a wood duck house that I put up in my woods. But it's tough to get a shot.
Very rarely, I might see a Great Horned in the woods. I never see them before they fly off though and disappear quickly through the trees. Again rarely, I might hear a Barred Owl calling at night in my woods. "Who cooks for me? Who cooks for me?" That's it. A distant call in the night. Otherwise zilch.

Now the highly respected DNR (Department of Natural Resources) here in Minnesota has apparently made it even more difficult. I came upon this sign last summer while troutfishing in Beaver Creek State Park.

So now the owls aren't allowed to hoot and photograpers can't shoot in our local state parks?
Mmmm. Or maybe I missed something here?