Some memories

I grew up just north of a small town in Southern MN. My folks only had an acre of land, so we didn't farm. My dad's occupation was a can milk hauler. For those of you who grew up in the big city, I'll explain. Unlike today's modern dairy farms where anywhere from 100 or more cows are milked 24 hrs a day, farmers usually milked between 10-30 cows. It wasn't until the mid-sixties or so when the milking parlors became popular. Cows were kept in the barn in stanchions, let out to pasture in the summer, and kept in the barn all winter, being let out while the farmer cleaned the barn. Milking was done by hand with the small herds, or for the bigger herds with milking machines. The milk was poured through a strainer, with a filter, into cans which held about 10 gallons. It was my dad's job to drive around to the farms in a truck and pick up these cans and deliver them to the creamery. As we were growing up, my sisters and I had to take our turns in the milk truck. Since I was the 4th child, and the first son, my older sisters couldn't wait until dad decided I was old enough to go along all the time and relieve them of the duty. I think that time came when I was about 12. Every weekend during the school year, and everyday during summer vacation, I knew how I was going to spend my mornings. In fact, I went with my dad at the early age of five. I started out doing small simple things, graduated up to carrying the empty cans, to carrying the lighter ones, then the full ones, to finally being able to throw a full can of milk into the truck. I can vouch that a full 10 gallon can of milk is not the lightest thing in the world. The bed of the truck was about 4 ft off the ground, more or less, depending on time of year, angle of box, and if a step was available. We would pick up the milk from the night before, and that morning. (Cows were milked twice a day, on a set schedule.) Some farmers had as few as 1 or 2 cans of milk as others had as many as twenty five. There were even "basement barns" which mean the cans had to be hauled up a flight of 15 or more steps before we could even throw them in the truck. Dad and I usually alternated on these barns, carrying the empty cans down and bringing the full ones up, with one exception. In my "wilder" youth, I ummmm.........ummmm.........well I enjoyed the fruit of the vine, actually the barley and the rye. On such mornings after, my dad never said a word, never hollered at me or gave me a lecture on the evils of alcohol. After all dad did enjoy a few brews himself. However, as my punishment for breaking the law of the land, dad would stand at the top of the steps of these basement barns and let me carry ALL the empties down and ALL the full ones up. I wouldn't have been so bad except these were the farms with the 20+ cans. Until next time. Bye

With the Grandkids

Sunday morning Quilter and I got up rather early (at least for us) and made a northern trek to see Priscilla and family. It was a real nice morning.........sun shining, not too hot..........and so Tech, Priscilla, Princess2, Mimic, and Smiles treated Quilter and I to the MN Zoo. It was a great day, watching the kids looking at all the animals. The girls were very well behaved, which was no great surprise to me. One of the highlights was Princess2 and I went out in a paddle boat together. We went across the pond and got a closer look at a Blue Heron. Then while we were out, a muskrat swam right by us carrying a small branch. Princess2 got to help paddle and steer. She thought that was a cool thing. Watching Smiles at the dolphin show was fun too. The little one was completely raptured by them. I'm sure they have seen the show quite a few times as Priscilla and family have a membership. We took a picnic lunch and ate when we got to the farm. The girls really like that place..........cows, horses, goats, chickens, pigs.........they love them all. I felt quite at home.........had a nice talk with one of the volunteers about milking............I helped cousins, uncles, friends, and brother in law milk at one time or another when I was younger. Now chickens...............I like them fried. For some reason a live chicken and I never got along too well. More on that in a later blog. I got to say...........Thanks Priscilla for a wonderful Sunday.

What Chuck and I have made.........

I thought some might be interested in some of the things Chuck and I have made so far........

In addition to the hutch, side table, and deck on our house ( Quilter's brother also helped with the deck project), we've made a couple of doll cradles, and a hall bench for Priscilla. The hall bench was built to her specifications..........two butts wide.

Birthday today

Today is my birthday. I took the night off from work and my friend and woodworking mentor Chuck went up to Burnsville ( a southern subburb of Minneapolis) to the Home Depot and Rockler ( a woodworkers store). Chuck recently retired from work and had some gift cards to use.

(At left is a picture of Chuck and I with a small cabinet we made for our house. Near left is the hutch we made for Quilter before we put the finish on.)

We met Chuck's brother Tom and Tom's son Jacob there. We had a lot of fun spending Chuck's money for him.

Sunday, Quilter and I are going to Priscilla's and we are going to the zoo. I'm looking forward to spending time with Princess2, Mimic, and Smiles. It's always fun to be with them. Of course I'm looking forward to seeing Priscilla and Tech also.

The family

I guess I should tell you a little more about my family.
First is my wife, hereafter to be referred as Mrs, or Quilter.
Next is my oldest daughter to be named Priscilla. She is married to Tech, a wonderful young man who is in a ministry and who we call for all our computer and tech problems. They have 3 daughters: Princess2, who is 5; Mimic, who is almost 3; and Smiles, who is 1and a half.

Then there is my younger daughter, Beezie. She is married to Medic, who is an ER nurse at a hospital in the Twin Cities. They have 2 children: Princess1 who is getting close to six and Buddy who is 1 and a half. Medic is also a great guy and I have to say that I am thankful for these two men.

In the future, I will tell you stories about my grandchildren, and also about their parents.
I remember that while the girls were growing up, I figured that I had them right under my thumb like a good dad should. But, after watching my sons in law with their children, I realized that my girls had me wrapped around their little fingers. I guess I should have realized this when I knew that when the girls called to ask if their curfew could be extended or to inform us about something we wouldn't quite approve of, they always prayed that Dad would answer the phone.

Well, enough rambling..........time to go to work......uhhhh work...........that's another post sometime.

Reading........it's making me fat

Reading is making me fat. Reading is most likely gonna cause my veins to clog which will result in a stroke. I love to read. I can sit and read a good book for hours. Now I realize that I do have other interests also. I like to work with wood, fish, watch sports and car races. So I do get myself out of the chair to do some active things. I also have a small paper route which gives me my twenty minute walk six mornings a week. But reading is a passion. I'll read almost any kind of book. My favorite authors are Stephen Bly, Al Lacy, Clive Cussler, Diane Mott Davidson, and Janet Evanovich. Stephen Bly and Al Lacy also write with their wives. I'll read most any book except the "classics". My English teacher in High School ruined the classics for me by making me read "The Scarlet Letter". BORING. But I'm getting off the subject. Reading is making me fat and a candidate for a stroke because of one extra problem. When I read, I munch. When I munch, it's usually potato chips. Ask my family. Right now there are about 12-15 bags of potato chips in the house to feed my habit. Truely, I cannot read without munching. Read and munch...........Potato chips, Potato chips. Look at my easy chair. Wife calls it my nest. Book, bag of chips, and glass for my drink, cup for my coffee. I can sit their for a long, long, time.

When Johnny Comes Marching Home

I served three years in the Army and seventeen plus years in the National Guard. I retired from the Guards in 1991-92, somewhere around there. My former Guard unit has served in Kosovo and Iraq. In fact, to date, this unit has served longer in Iraq than any other military unit. On Saturday, the boys are coming home. They are in Fort McCoy WI right now getting their debriefing. But Saturday, they are coming home. There is a push for the people of this community to be out on the route to welcome them. I plan on being there. It's been over a decade since I've been one of them, and almost 40 years since I came home from Viet Nam, but there is a kinship there. We've been in it. We've seen it. Now I most likely haven't seen as much as they did as my Viet Nam tour was spent on an Army Airfield, and I spent 3 months in a hospital and recovery company in Japan, but I saw enough.

This unit was an infantry unit. I know the training was tough. When I first joined the Guards, summer camp was almost too easy. We would have each night off, and middle weekend was free. By the time I retired, it was different. We would get to Camp Ripley on Saturday and leave for the field on Sunday. We did not see the barracks again until the second Thursday. Training got serious. Now I know that it paid off for these guys. The unit will return with all personnel alive. There were a few wounded. Their job was convoy escort. They will have to take it slow now to readjust. We are going to have to take is slow to allow them to readjust. I know from experience that you don't just go from hard soldier to easy civilian overnight. So God Bless our boys. Do me a favor. If you read this...............say a prayer for the guys and their families that there will be few times of stress during this important transition.

Hard Butter

I don't know about you folks, but I hate hard butter. There is nothing worse than trying to spread the butter on your toast or bread, and it just sits in a clump because it's too hard to spread. So, because of that, I'm the official butter monitor around here. I'm the one who takes the next quarter pound out of the refrigerator. when the butter in the dish gets low. Now the butter dish had better stay out on the counter. It does not go back into the refrigerator. So if ya want to keep me happy, keep the butter soft.

Get to know me

I'm a mature male, okay, I'm 59, living in MN, with some views on this world. I'm married with two grown daughters, two sons in law, and five grandchildren. Sometime I'll post a photo, but not yet. I don't have a lot of close friends, just a bunch of people I know. Somethings here will be funny, some sad. As you read this, remember one thing: Of the seventeen adjectives I use to describe myself, nice has never been one of them.