Travelin' the North Country Fair

My first thought when I heard about the VP pick was, “Welp, you just don’t get no more middle America than Tim Walz.” He taught high school social studies and coached football. He served 24 years in the National Guard as an enlisted man and non-commissioned officer. He was elected to Congress from a Republican district and won covered dish competitions while there.

(I do have an issue with his “Turkey Trot Tater Tot” recipe: he uses a single clove of garlic for a pound of green beans, a pound of ground turkey and a package of Tater Tots.)

He’s also signed laws guaranteeing all Minnesota schoolchildren access to free breakfast and lunch, ensuring paid sick leave for all Minnesota workers and restoring voting rights to convicted felons who’ve completed their carceral sentences. No wonder the Republicans hate him so much.

Walz is not afraid to ride the big dad energy. He’s made several videos with his daughter Hope (conceived via IVF, which Republicans have now officially turned against) on topics like the hands-free driving law and visiting the Minnesota State Fair:

So our song today is Minnesota native son Bob Dylan, singing “Girl from the North Country”. It’s early Dylan—1963—and definitely evokes English ballads (like “Scarborough Fair).It’s old-fashioned and evocative. Like Walz.

Here’s Bob singing it in the original release.

 

©2024 Bas Bleu

 

One squirrel's trash...

I’ve been doing some clearing out around the house. Clothes that I’m never going to wear again (farewell to the pantihose!), books going to a synagogue’s annual sale, kitchenware I don’t use any more.

I’ve also shredded 40 years’ worth of journals. I’ve schlepped them across continents and oceans, but they served their purpose in providing a forum for me to work through things as they happened. I don’t need them any longer.

Fun fact: back at the turn of the century, I was living in London and going through some challenging things at work. On a vacation to Normandy, I somehow left the current journal in the toilette of a restaurant somewhere around Deauville. Didn’t notice until I got back to London. I pondered for a while—like I said, challenging things and I was pretty forceful in the language I was using to work through them. But I decided that I really wanted it back—for one thing, I was only halfway through the pages, and it was a really good format. So I faxed the restaurant, asking if they’d, uh, found it; if so, if they could mail it to me (at my expense) I’d be grateful.

They had, they did and I was.

Here’s another fun fact: when I went on pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela 45 years ago, my journal was one of three books I carried with me in my panniers. (The other two were Henry IV, Part 1 and Montaigne’s Essays.) 

Within about three months of returning to the US, I was already mythologizing what an amazing, wonderful trip it was. A couple of glances at the journal reminded me that it rained a lot during that journey and that I didn’t feel fully clean all the while I was biking and staying in hostels.

Okay, well—40 years of journals results in nearly three large Hefty bin bags of shreds. I’ve put a few gallons into my composter, but decided that my almost completely clay ground might benefit from having some of the bits worked directly into it. So I dumped about half a bag on the ground and did my best to do that.

You’ll see from the video that I was not entirely (or even mostly) successful. Not only is there clay, but a crap ton of roots, which make it really hard to turn the dirt over. So I left it, figuring that eventually the rain and heat will help it decompose and do some of the work of amending the soil.

What I’ve discovered is that this has become a squirrel playground, which makes me literally laugh out loud. I mean, look:

Turns out that clearing out your life has unexpected benefits.

©2024 Bas Bleu

 

Creeping holidays

So, as of 6 August, not only is Costco selling this:

They’ve also got this on display.

I just can’t.

 

©2024 Bas Bleu

 

Holey ground

About a month ago, I noticed there was a hole in my back garden. And then I noticed a second hole, which made me wonder about who might be digging them. Like…snakes?

I notified the management company, who sent out a pest control guy to check. He pointedly looked at my bird feeders and asked if I was feeding squirrels. (Implication: if you’re feeding squirrels, you can expect snakes.)

Well, no—I’m feeding birds. And if squirrels are attracting snakes, they took their sweet time getting here, because I’ve had feeders and squirrels for seven years with no holes in the back yard.

Well, he stomped on the holes to close them and told me to call him if they reappeared.

A week or so, I noticed that the larger hole was back. I stomped it and it came back.

Well—Friday afternoon I discovered who was doing the digging.

I’ve ordered stand down on all interventions, and put out some carrot pieces beside the bowl of water on the ground.

And I really hope that, if there are snakes, they play nice with everyone else.

 

 

©2024 Bas Bleu

 

Gratitude Monday: street legal

Vehicle SITREP: the 23-year-old Saab’s air conditioning has been fixed, the oil leak repaired and the annual inspection + emissions check done and passed.

Also, I used the $100-off coupon from the mechanic, which was a nice discount.

I cannot tell you the change in my mood as I pushed the AC into full blower and felt the cool air pour over me as I drove off the garage lot on Friday. I haven’t needed to drive the car over the weekend, but just knowing I could without shvitzing like a fountain was so empowering.

So that’s my gratitude for today: I’m back in action, baby.

 

©2024 Bas Bleu