Tag Archives: rural refelctions

Project New Hope

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I am going to present a recipe for a bad day and you tell me when it starts to taste little familiar. First start out with three cups of fatigue then fold in hopelessness and an inability to focus-those are your dry ingredients. Now add in your spices-they will consist of anger, fear and shame. Bind it all together with isolation and sleepless nights and you will begin to hate what is cooking inside of you. In this scenario, all of your friends and family believes you to be a strong and fearless cook so you feel like you can’t ask for a little help because helpless is not as you see yourself. Instead you try to fix the recipe by adding in alcohol or other substances which only serve to make this recipe a toxic poison.

 

Did you find the taste of this recipe a little familiar? Most probably didn’t even get past the dry ingredients before the ingredients became unfamiliar and foreign. Unfortunately, for a percentage of soldiers returning from war, that mix is exactly what they are cooking.

 

I met Dale Johansen at Home Lumber just the other day. I was there for supplies but Johansen was there to help re-build lives. He chairs “Project New Hope” (www.projectnewhope.net) which is an organization that has one simple mission, “to provide veterans AND families the education, training and skills necessary to manage their lives after wartime service.” Project New Hope believes in “whole-family” healing as the veteran is probably not the only one who’s hurting. His or her spouse may struggle with the changes in their spouse and children may lack the maturity to adjust to the absence of their parent and even when the soldier returns home from war.

 

Project New Hope presently offers week-end retreats for the veteran and family at Camp New Hope which is located on Glacier Lake near Duluth. The retreat is free of charge and all meals are included. All sessions go at a pace determined by the veteran and family, everything is kept low-key and a counselor is available 24/7. Camp New Hope has welcomed veterans of every war to sessions that vary from anger management, to money management and even help with sleepless nights. A soldier’s life is such a spartan existence and it seems they rarely are able to put themselves first. This camp asks the veteran to please put themselves first and focus on what has made their life troubled.

 

Dale Johansen briefly described his life to me after his time in the Vietnam War. It sounded a lot like the toxic recipe I described at the beginning of this column. It’s clear to me that his mission is to make veterans into good cooks with a recipe for a better life. If you’re a veteran and would like to attend a week-end retreat or know someone who could use these services, please contact Johansen through www.projectnewhope.net, email to dale@projectnewhope.net or write to Project New Hope 72530 CSAH 27, Dassel, Mn 56586. You may also donate to this mission using the same points of contact. Project New Hope will also have a booth at the Pennington County Fair in Thief River Falls, Minnesota which begins July 20th and runs through the week-end. 

I think the best way to end this column is with a phrase that not only frames healing for the soldier but also challenges them to gain control of his/her life; “what happened before was beyond your control…what happens next is up to you.”

One Empty Chamber

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It’s back to the “bullet” format this week. I give five bullets
points that do not warrant a column on their own but together fill
the cylinder quite well.

Bullet One: Whenever I am in Thief River Falls,Minnesota and need fast food, I get a generous handful of mixed nuts from the vending machine at the Farm Service Agency building and a fifty cent soda from Fleet Supply.
I am consistently astounded by the generous handful of peanuts,
walnuts, pecans and almonds I receive from that little vending
machine and a fifty cent soda takes me back in time to a place where
you only hand to pay ten-fold for five cents of flavored and
carbonated water. These are two of my most coveted gustatory secrets
and have served me well. I typically eat at home so this little blast
of beneficial fat, water, caffeine and artificial flavoring gets me
through until I position myself in front of our refrigerator, door
open, and graze.

Bullet Two: I know there are those who write poetry about the beauty
of making hay thick enough with nostalgia that you can smell the
sweetness of the alfalfa and feel your head swoon. However, haymaking
has always engendered anxiety for me and the only anticipation it
creates is that of squealing baler bearings, untimely rain, twine
knotters that don’t and breaking metal shearing against its own
weight. This summer I am harvesting my hay with-a trailer. I
purchased hay this year and will haul it home behind my aging
pick-up. I prefer it to the beauty of arising early to gather forage
for my cattle, plus I get to sleep in a little. See you Sunday, Dick.

Bullet Three: If you thought this was the bullet where I would
mention the Casey Anthony trial, the State of Minnesota government
shutdown or some really important celebrity news; it is not.

Bullet Four: I will mention a few entertainment items here, however.
There is to be a new “Muppet Movie,” released this November. I have a
love for the Muppets goes back as far as Sesame Street. Our friend,
Nancy Thompson, does a fantastic Miss Piggy which makes me lonely for
felt-covered puppets with detailed back stories so a new Muppet movie
always interests me. I also have a television recommendation,
“Wilfred” which is on the FX channel Thursday nights. It is for
adults only but it has the combination of humor and sentiment which I
find endearing. The main character is played by a talking dog who is
actually a man in a dog costume-that should be enough inducement to
check out at least one episode. Remember, I said this was an
adults-only show, anyway at nine on a summer evening the kids should
be outside playing. (Yes, I know, only after a good spray of deet and
only to play non-competitive games that artificially bolster their
self-esteem)

Bullet Five: It’s fair time now so please enjoy yourself and stay
safe. Also if you show animals at the fair, take care of them as if
you’re being judged on your ability to do-because indeed you are.
Finally, in the old West, men kept their revolvers on an empty
chamber for safety. I plan to do the same-no bullet six.

Five Acts of Farm Safety

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Act I Excluding safety

Farm life has always involved lots of hard work. Although most have traded hand tools for massive equipment, long hours still wear
farmers down. Wet weather has increased the stress of farming as it
has compacted the different stages of raising a crop into a complicated ball of activities that must be pulled apart like a tangled electric cord. It seems like most people involved with agriculture are tired, stressed and in a hurry. When these three elements join hands they exclude the most important partner in farming-safety.

Act II Safety Sensei

Barb Schmitz from Plummer owns Safety Compliance Services. Barb farms with her husband, Arnold, and teaches people how to stay safe at work. Barb started as a Safety officer in Red Lake County in 1991 and a few years later began a private practice teaching people how to come home from work with as many fingers as when they awoke that morning. The subject of safety is about as interesting as listening to play by play of gray paint drying on a wall, however Barb makes it work with personal stories and fairly
accurate emotional appeal. She inspires as she teaches and brings it
all home when she makes her pupils realize that being safe make it
possible to come home to the families we all cherish. She implores
her fellow man to be safe with a delivery that is equal parts motherly caring and sweetly hectoring nag.

Act III My own personal un-safety

The night before our safety class, I moved the cattle to a different
paddock. It was late so I was tired, I wanted to get back inside the
house so I was rushed-add both of these together and I was stressed. While moving the fence posts, I walked right into a small post which lodged its narrow end into the area where my belt would have been had I been wearing something more than boxer shorts and a t-shirt. At some point, a fair percentage of my weight was balanced somewhere near my center of gravity on top of that little post. After a suitable amount of time, I fell from the post and reacted with anger towards the post. I was unhurt but I was also unsafe.

Act IV Including safety

Barb told me that staying safe on the farm means trading time for
safety. You need to use this time to observe you environment for
hazards like low electric wires when moving an auger or an angry bull standing in a blind spot when moving cattle. You also need to take the time to get some sleep as a sleepy operator possesses an equal reaction time to a drunken operator. Also, keep the kids off the tractor even when they beg; bad habits are learned by example. Stress can make you blind to impending problems so remove the safety blinders as you remove stress. Get some sleep, accept change when it happens plus find the humor in your situation; all acts that will make your life very infertile ground for stress. The biggest guard against stress is belief in a higher power, yes God believes in safety too.

Act V The safest person you know

Barb asked us to write down who was the safest person we know. Those of you who watch the television series “the Office,” will find my answer a little ironic as I wrote down Dwight Schrute. Anyway, take care on the farm this summer; slow down, relax and be the safest person you know.

An Affair of Plain Living II

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I received inspiration recently from a book titled “Foxfire” to document some of the tasks unique to rural living which I occasionally perform. “Foxfire” was first published in 1972 and included instructions from old-timers on how to render lard, raise a log cabin or even make moonshine; these
activities were called “affairs of plain living.” Last fall, I
explained how to cover a septic tank with straw-which proved to be as
boring a read as the subject matter promised . This week I want to
explain how to build a fence corner. I will talk about something else if I notice your eyes begin to glaze over-or maybe I’ll just juggle.

First off, I like round posts for the corner and a nice railroad tie
to support the corner from the direction of each tensioned wire. If you do not
have the fortitude to dig a proper hole for all posts, you should
hire someone to do it for you-or move back into town. I dig all of my holes to four feet
deep, if you don’t then frost will heave your corner posts and you
will have shamed yourself (that may be a bit strong.) I dig the first
foot of the hole with a shovel then the rest of the way I used a
post hole digger. You should only dig the opening about one foot in
diameter, any wider and it will be difficult to make the surface of
the hole firm-this is important because most of the strength of the
post hole comes from the top foot or so.

After holes are dug, you can simply throw the wider end of your post
into the hole and plumb with a level (or by eye if you’re old-school)
then fill the hole around the post. Do not use the original dirt,
clay or sand that you dug out, use something solid-I like pea rock.
Pea rock is small and fills every crevice around the post and inside
the hole. The portion of soil around the hole that is undisturbed will
be solid, however using the soil you recently disturbed to fill the
hole is short-sighted and will allow the post to tilt under the pressure of the wire when
tightened. Use the black dirt to fill flower pots, the sand for your child’s play area and throw the clay into your neighbor’s field. You should also dig your hole a few inches deeper than four feet so that you can add
a few inches of pea rock on the bottom for drainage.

You must mount a cross-piece between the corner post and each bracing
post. I prefer those extendable steel posts people use to support
basement joists-you can adjust them to any distance and they’re very
strong. Please don’t nail a board on for the cross-piece, it won’t work and, with the final result, you will once again have shamed yourself (still too strong?) The final act of good corners is one of fairly simple engineering. You must wrap a wire from the bottom of the corner post up around the
top of the bracing post and back down to the bottom of the corner
where you splice the wire together. You can then thread a stick in
between the two lengths of wire and twist the stick until the wire
draws together tightly-not tight enough to break but tight enough to make the
corner successful. If you are obsessive about tightening you will break the wire, instead use a little common sense and realize you can only increase the tightness later if you haven’t broken the cross-wire during the initial tightening process.

There you go, how to build a fence corner-an affair of plain living; or content just boring enough to make excellent bedtime reading.

Exchanging pain for knowledge

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Certain incidents in my life give me a lot of traction, they cause me to learn more than just the obvious lesson. This spring, I told you a story of how mutant gophers had chewed through the inch and a half water pipe that we used to water our cattle. The obvious lesson was that I need to control the gophers (done) and also how to repair the pipe which has also been completed. This week I went a little deeper into the incident and found greater meaning.

First off, we have repaired this pipe about three times. Each time we thought we’d fixed it, another problem peaked up from beneath the earth. The third repair occurred when I noticed water rising from a connection. I reached through about twenty inches of very cold water and could feel the pressurized water hitting my hand. I could have waited until the water drained down or make the repair that day. I believe true character comes out in bad times so I always try to be at my best in the worst situations and so decided I would tighten the coupling right there and then. I rely on daily prayer so that was the first club out of the bag. I had been worried that week about the pipe repair which had caused me to be short with my wife, Lisa so I prayed for more patience. I virtually never pray for things or success so instead I also asked God to please help me to understand what lesson He wanted me to learn from this broken water pipe and to please “do it soon.” If prayer doesn’t work for you, pray for something else.

I needed two pipe wrenches and my four wheeler (amazing how many of my stories start with this phrase.) I arrived at the coupling and took off my watch and jacket and plunged my hands into the great, cold water unknown; my hands hurt immediately and I got a little headache. I always say that pain is not necessarily injury-it is just pain. This was just pain so I loosened the coupling with the pipe wrenches then pulled my hands out of the water and threw my jacket over my arms to warm up. I did this about four times during the repair and by the fourth time I had acclimated and was able to keep my hands and arms under water for quite awhile. I jiggled the pipe until it slid into the coupling then tightened it up. I turned the water back on and it somehow did not leak. I was proud, I really was.

I always look up to people who not only can take the pain incurred in living, yet still operate and even fire back at life. This was just a small incident but I stood the pain and was still able to think and complete a repair and that made me feel good. Even better, I prayed for the right things (patience and knowledge) even when it would have been easy to ask for something else or complain to God that life was unfair at that moment. I could have failed in the repair by letting the pain of cold water defeat me just as I could have let the pain of life defeat me by asking God “why me” instead of asking Him for the lesson of life from that particular day.

Anyway, no leaks as of today.

Going back to Gully

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My daytrips usually involve exotic locales such as Carrington, North
Dakota to visit my brother or even so far-flung a location as Austin,
Minnesota to pick-up something I purchased on eBay. This week I made
a ½ daytrip and discovered a nice little town I used to know pretty
well.

1985 was an exciting time for me. I had my first job in radio at the
Fosston station. I sold advertising during the day and one of my most
productive stops was the little town of Gully, Minnesota. Although tiny, Gullyhad several productive businesses that purchased regular radio
advertising and so I stopped pretty often. One of my visits was the
Gully Elevator where Vern Iverson and Vern Wold (“the Verns” music group)played a very good, old-time music show in the break room. I drank coffee and listened a couple of times and really enjoyed their hospitality. I also liked the café back then but made so little money from my work that I
rarely purchased more than pie.

This week I came to Gully to rent the cooperative’s “Gopher Getter.”
The ‘getter is a machine which plows a tunnel into the ground for
pesky gophers and at the same time leaves tasty treats for them
suitable for a last supper. I arrived from the North and could
clearly see Gully a few miles towards the horizon under a light mist
floating above the peat fields. There is a definite transition from
prairie to pine which culminates at West St Paul Avenue and Main
Street on Gully’s north side. When I returned the implement to the
co-op, I came in from south of Gully which meant I rode the hills
along State Highway 92. This is the land I always imagine when I think of
good cattle ground; rolling and grassy with little ravines for
watering and a corral.

I was impressed by business in Gully. There was an elevator,
lumberyard, hardware store, c-store and even a little bar. My left
elbow is permanently crooked from constant coffee drinking so I
stopped at the c-store for something to bolster my trip home. They
offered me free coffee but I always feel free coffee is for regulars
so I left them a dollar. The coffee was good, way better than the
quality suggested by its price. I walked around the hardware store
for a little while and found it equipped well-enough that I could
imagine no household emergency in which I wouldn’t be able to find
supplies for repair. It should also be mentioned that this tiny
little town was the only place I could find a “gopher getter” and the
manager said they’ve had people from as far away as Argyle come to
rent the machine.

I’m safely at home now and having sown my wild oats on another
daytrip that was about as unlike anything Hunter S Thompson ever
tried, I feel no more need to roam. Should I ever again need mild
adventure, or a gopher getter, I shall return to the nice little
productive town of Gully.

Time Well Spent

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(I posted this late because of computer modem problems, my apologies-GN)

 

Time Well Spent

I am now middle-aged and have fully engaged with the idea of my own mortality. Having reached this point, I question how best to spend my time left on earth. This week I answer my own question.

First off, I am not spending time trying to earn my way into heaven as that is a gift and can only be attained through that very realization. I am trying to spend my time well; to be a good steward.

I’ve spent much of my adult life being productive, which is very rewarding. I take pride in a well-built fence or a household project which has reached successful completion. The danger here is to use your time for only work and turn your back on relationships.

I think public service is a good way to spend time. I think people believe that public service is something they do for others but it actually does more for those who perform the act. Anytime I perform a small act to benefit animals it makes me feel really good. I focus on animals because I’ve gained so much from spending time in their company.

A person needs recreation lest they run they chance of becoming a dull boy/girl. My most enjoyable times are not spent at our lake house (which we will never have,) on some sandy beach drinking pina coladas (hate sand/like beer,) nor on a cruise to exotic ports (I can’t swim.) My best times are at home with Lisa.

Once a week, Lisa and I go to the Island, the island in our kitchen. There is something so nice and intimate about being alone, seated across from each other, just sharing space. We also share space with the cats as they we lay newspapers down on the counter top so they can enjoy this time with us. Winter evening are best as Lisa and I watch the storms pass us by as we watch the flame of a corn stove over the others’ shoulder. We share our day and plans for the future and wait for supper to get ready. There is something so nice about cracking a few cold beers and knowing you are spending time with a woman who will not share this moment with anyone else. It is my best time.

I always hear about people who want to be remembered after they’re gone. They want to leave a legacy so their memory is not forgotten. We only celebrate the birth of two Presidents who left a tremendous legacy so I would say securing your legacy is not a good way to spend time. You will be remembered by those who you considered as family and few others; you just have to leave them something decent to remember.

Spending time well really has more to do with balance than the actual acts; so much of life is that way. A few moments spent with people you care about are worth more than hours spent in a vegetative state watching television. You just spent a few minutes of your time reading my column, I hope it was time well spent.

Old Friends

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I’m not a person to give up on a vehicle due to rust. A man once told me “the cheapest vehicle you purchase is the one you already own.” This person was a mechanic so he may have possessed vested interests, however I think the statement was correct. It is better to fix the vehicle you already know than to purchase something new.

1998 was the year I purchased my first “good” pick-up. It was a maroon and white,1989 Chevrolet 2500 four wheel drive which I found on a lot in Bismarck, North Dakota. I mounted running boards, fender flares and a General Motors cup holder to make it mine and truly loved the truck. A few years after the purchase, I found myself driving an awful lot and traded the pick-up on a Ford Aspire. I felt bad about leaving my truck behind, almost as bad as driving that horrid little car made my contorted upper body ache.

Darrel is my brother, he is now a half-century old and wise but showed wisdom even a decade prior to this milepost. Darrel needed a truck and happened upon a gorgeous ’89 maroon and white Chev’ 2500 sitting at the parking lot where I’d left it. Darrel purchased the pick-up and it stayed in the Nelson family. I teased Darrel that it was always uncomfortable when all three of us were together; almost like dating the same woman.

In 2006 Darrel bought a new pick-up and I had the opportunity to make another intelligent purchase. I was now the owner of my first “good” pick-up. Darrel had used the pick-up in his business but it was still the same horse I remembered. It has many miles on it now and has seen several engines and transmissions but still has the same familiar heart beat, it was like I’d driven it only yesterday.

I recently had some body work done on my pick-up. Nothing fancy, just fixed the running boards and doors-the cab corners will just have to stay rusty. It’s true what I was told as it is much cheaper to purchase more time with this vehicle than buying something new. I just wish I’d never sold it in the first place but am fortunate that I know both of it’s owners from the last 12 years.

It got me thinking about relationships. I have old friends that I rarely see. I see Mike on his way to the field, Kenny and Ryan during funerals, Danni at the hardware store and Dave did some plumbing for us. I rarely see Shawn or Daren. Still though, we have a shared history, like my old pick-up, that unites us across borders of time and distance. They were my first “good” friends and even though we’ve all acquired rust and dents through life, each time I see them it’s like I saw them only just yesterday.

I picked the truck up from the auto body shop just this week. It really didn’t look any different but it was better in ways that are important. I guess it’s like old friendships, never changing but improving with time.

I am somebody

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A person toils in anonymity so much of their life and only hopes to
catch a sliver of occasional spotlight. My recognition came last week
and it arrived via US Mail; I have finally made it.

I like to purchase tools on occasion. I don’t like cheap wrenches or
socket sets because they cost you more than a good set does because
they break and you need to replace them. I like the Northern Tool
catalog company because they have good stuff. Now, my good sense in
choice of tools doesn’t always extend to good shopping. I make a few
purchases of “quality tools” which I probably don’t need but it is
just this sort of impulsivity which brought me to instant
acknowledgement.

Tuesday afternoon, I became a very important person; I received the
Northern Tool catalog-in hard cover. I have received many soft cover
catalogs from Northern and even a couple seasonal catalogs, however
this tome of products arrived hard covered, bound and encased in the
most indulgent of cardboard wrappers. It was beautiful.

There it was, my name on the back of the hardcover Northern Tool
catalog. The whole experience reminded me of the scene in “the Jerk”
where Navin Johnson (played by Steve Martin) found his name in the
phone book and was overcome with happiness. He said “this is the kind
of spontaneous publicity, your name in print- that makes people. I’m
somebody now!”

The look of the catalog brought me back to days spent awaiting the
Montgomery-Ward Christmas catalog. I remember the surge of adrenaline
and hit of lightheadedness that accompanied the glossy pages of stuff
I didn’t need, but desperately wanted. Tuesday, I was like little
Ralphie from “the Christmas Story,” when he finally received his
“official Red Ryder carbine-action, two-hundred shot, range model air
rifle with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time.” I
felt validated, excited and very much like I had taken an important
step towards being an adult.

Last night, I placed the catalog on the coffee table next to my spot
on the couch. The cover consists of a beautiful wood grain background
with the familiar Northern Tool logo stenciled, in an understated
manner, along the top. The catalog is filled with hand tools powered
by non-human sources, tractors, power washers, power screwdrivers,
power seats, power sawmills, power everything, except for power
suits. Every page is like one more step as I ascend “macho mountain.”
It is lovely to feel like such a complete man, all from the comfort
of your own sofa; complete with soft blankets, three cats, remote
control and coffee.

I brought the catalog to work, just to show off. I became the center
of attention if only for a moment. It could have been the beautiful
bound and printed form of all tools of the manly arts gathered in
place. At second thought, it could just be the change receiving the
catalog had made in me-I, like Navin Johnson, had finally become
somebody.

.

Reloaded

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Reloaded

A few months ago, I used a “bullet” format in which my column
consisted of several topics which were unrelated. It came as a result
of one of my favorite phrases “just gimme the bullets” which I use
when I want the facts of a situation without embellishment or
storytelling. This week I have reloaded.

Bullet One

The word “amazing” may be destined for the language scrap heap.
Amazing was once reserved for actions or characteristics that were
truly-amazing. It seems now that it has become a word most often used
by reality show contestants to describe their fellow competitors
prior to voting them off the show. These long soliloquy’s usually
include some flattering words or phrases that describe fellow
contestants as “strong” or “fierce” followed by the obligatory
“amazing” then the coup de grace of a vote off the island, campus,
ranch,…whatever.

Bullet Two

Woofstock is Saturday from 11 am until 3 pm at the Eagle’s Club in
Thief River Falls, Minnesota. Woofstock exists to benefit the Pennington County Humane Society. They’ve planned a huge silent auction, free-will meal and more to benefit the pets that need their help. I will be there
with a few boxes of my book and all sales during Woofstock go
completely to the Humane Society. I’ve received much joy and
companionship from animals so I would like to pay some back. Lisa and
I treat our cats Laine, Twitch and Magoo like children; it makes no
matter that they aren’t human. I don’t believe you love something
based on its species, you love something based on your own capacity
to love.

Bullet Three

What goes up as it goes down? A see-saw, of course; I got your back,
Mike.

Bullet Four

In the 1972 movie, “Jeremiah Johnson,” a common phrase was, “keep
your top knot dry.” This phrase refers to the last knot that holds
the other knots together. If this knot is lost then everything falls
apart. It is a metaphor to keep your head about you so you are able
to make good decisions in bad circumstances. The heavy snow pack is
now melting which makes people nervous about flooding. I think some
of this fear rubs off on us as it is a news topic worth
covering-sometimes with a little too much drama. Absorb the
information and helpful instruction about any flooding but resist the
drama, be safe and keep your top knot dry.

Bullet Five

I believe our country will soon come out of our crisis of economy and
confidence better than ever-harder and stronger. However, we need to
change our society or larger, more systemic problems will occur in
the future. Families can no longer demand that our school system
raise their children then blame them when they fail to do so. Parents
must roll up their sleeves and do the work of love, discipline,
religious education and teaching responsibility or else future able
minds and bodies will be housed in jails or nursed by our welfare
system. Our schools can no longer be institutions that place emphasis
on “self-worth” instead of hard work (and good grades) or we will become lazy, unmotivated and stupid. We need to improve from our very base, to do
otherwise means all else will fall apart. If you think these things
are tough; then go ask a person born prior to World War Two and they
will tell you about tough. They made this country what it is; I hope
they can see all of us improve upon it their time.