Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
OCTOBER 1, 2024 – Today in the Heartland fall was in the air, though the sun was bright in a cloudless sky. After reviewing convoluted legal descriptions all morning, I burst out of work mode and embarked on my daily power walk up and down the hills of Little Switzerland. On my second climb to …
SEPTEMBER 30, 2024 – Without being on the ground . . . er, in the water . . . a person can’t fully grasp the devastation that visited parts of the American Southeast late last week. Faster than you can say “flash flood” 10 times, we who weren’t affected directly will be on to other …
SEPTEMBER 29, 2024 – Friday our good friend Sally texted to see if we’d like to join her and Camila and Claudio, an interesting and engaging couple from South African ex-pats now living in Portugal but visiting Minnesota in connection with the current World Press Institute fellowship program. Camila is a WPI alumna, fellow board …
SEPTEMBER 27, 2024 – In late August, Lin of “Steve and Lin,” our wonderful next-door neighbors on the Cove handed me two brand new paperback books tidily bound by twine and ribbon. “I thought you’d appreciate these books,” she said. “He’s such a great writer, and they’re about India. I know you’ve been there and …
SEPTEMBER 26, 2024 – Blogger’s Note: I skipped posting yesterday because I was preoccupied or more precisely, anesthetized, while medical personnel jabbed a foot-long (I might be exaggerating that by a couple of inches) needle into the left side of my pelvis to draw bone marrow samples in a “routine” annual exercise to monitor the presence …
SEPTEMBER 24, 2024 – Today on the way home today from the Red Cabin in rural northwest Wisconsin, I lost count of the Trump signs along the way. If that part of the country is politically representative of the rest of rural America, you could fairly say that Trump “owns” it. (I counted three Harris …
SEPTEMBER 23, 2024 – This morning the air outside was as still as it was inside the Red Cabin. Overnight the temperature had dropped into the 40s, and in the hour after daybreak, the mercury hadn’t yet climbed above 48. I donned appropriate clothing and slipped out for a walk along the shoreline path to …
SEPTEMBER 22, 2024 – I remember well the record jacket: it featured the head, shoulders and left hand of a smiling gentleman performing the violin. A row of stage lights burned brightly above him. In big gold capital letters above the image on the jacket was the man’s last name, “FRANCESCATTI.” In much smaller letters …
SEPTEMBER 21, 2024 – After breakfast on the porch I ventured out to the dock to survey the unsettled weather. The wind was picking up from the southeast, and dark clouds lined the horizon. It wouldn’t take long for a clearer picture to form. By 10 o’clock the wind was roaring at 20 miles an …
SEPTEMBER 20, 2024 – I remember the first time I played soccer. It was during Pee Wee baseball practice at Park Street Park. Our so-called coach decided he—and we—had had enough baseball for the afternoon and should try something different, such as soccer. If he knew next to nothing about the sport, we eight-year-olds or …
SEPTEMBER 19, 2024 – Today the early weather was splendiferous. I decided to get an early start for the Red Cabin and spend the day doing trail work in the “tree garden” before Beth joins me tomorrow to enjoy a stretch of fine days, so says the forecast. Just as I pressed the ignition button …
SEPTEMBER 18, 2024 – If you follow the same daily walking route over the years, you inevitably become acquainted with people along the way. On Monday I wrote about one such acquaintance, a retired engineer. Today I met another amiable guy—Phillip—with whom I’ve chatted at length on multiple occasions over the past decade. We hadn’t …
SEPTEMBER 17, 2024 – With just eight weeks to the Big Day, I feel like a planet with a non-symmetrical elliptical daily orbit around the sun of politics. At the apogeal phase, I’m scorched and agitated; at the perigean, I’m cool and calm. So it is with all sorts of non-political stresses and strains—anxious now; …
SEPTEMBER 16, 2024 – Today on my walk I ran into . . . er, encountered . . . an acquaintance of mine, a retired engineer, whom I hadn’t seen since early this summer. He and his wife own a nice home with a grand view of the park, and he was out tending a …
SEPTEMBER 15, 2024 – Aging seems to increase my amazement. Late one evening recently we sat with friends out on the dock for conversation and a bit of star-gazing. The first quarter moon had already set, leaving the Milky Way and constellations in full command of the celestial stage. I’d brought out two sets of …
SEPTEMBER 13, 2024 – Now I get to write about “back to nature,” which, if you read yesterday’s post, had competed unsuccessfully with “politics.” Late yesterday evening while out on the Red Cabin porch, I put my book down and peered into the darkness outside. Except . . . through the darkness shone . . …
SEPTEMBER 13, 2024 – Hmmm. While contemplating today’s post I vacillated. Inspired by several natural phenomena I’ve encountered during my time in paradise up here at the Red Cabin, I wanted to highlight a few. On the other hand, gobsmacked by the latest news about Laura Loomer, who is charitably described as a “right-wing provocateur” …
SEPTEMBER 12, 2024 – To date, Democratic strategist James Carville’s most famous line is “It’s the economy, stupid.” It was directed at workers on the 1992 Clinton campaign, not because Carville believed they were stupid, but because he wanted everyone in the campaign to focus. At campaign headquarters in Little Rock, the insightful and effective …
SEPTEMBER 11, 2024 – Not that I’m superstitious or anything, but long ago I decided it was good luck if we saw at least one eagle during a stay at the Red Cabin on Grindstone Lake. The longer the stay, of course, the greater the odds of securing a measure of good luck. Early this …
SEPTEMBER 10, 2024 – I say it after each “presidential debate” I watch on TV: “My head hurts.” This time around my head really hurt. For the first few minutes, I blamed both candidates, but as the event proceeded, one of the candidates was responsible for the vast majority of my pain and eventually, 100% …
SEPTEMBER 9, 2024 – Tuesday evening millions of Americans plus millions of people around the world will tune in to the “debate,” so-called, between the two main candidates for president of the United States. I’m not sure yet if I’ll tune in or not. On Monday evening in the company of my spouse, sister and …
SEPTEMBER 8, 2024 – I dream a lot—every night. Back when I maintained a daily journal I’d often recount the more unusual dreams, but it’s been years since I kept a diurnal record of things, dreams included. Last night, however, I experienced one of the strangest dreams of my life; so strange I feel a …
SEPTEMBER 7, 2024 – As we enter the last eight weeks of the endless presidential campaign, the Man Who Would Be Grover gets weirder and weirder, to borrow from the Man from Minnesota. If, in the words of Winston Churchill, Russia is “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma,” the Republican re-candidate for …
SEPTEMBER 6, 2024 – Earlier this summer I constructed two wooden ramps to provide passage over two side-by-side fallen giants of the woods, each . . . two feet in diameter. The completed project looked simple enough, but in design and construction the operation required a fair among of engineering. As with most completed cabin …
SEPTEMBER 5, 2024 – (Cont.) When Susan and her husband Bob pulled into the yard, I had no idea what to expect. She was such a young kid when we’d last met on the deck of her family’s swimming pool in New Jersey, she’d made no lasting impression. We’d had no contact since. Jenny, who’d …