2015 Collection: Sporadic Notes From The Toy Factory # 10

August 14, 2015 Thanks Jerry

Yesterday I wrote that a vacation for me, would be the opportunity to write for several days around the clock as I pleased. I wrote I had written nothing of merit for what seemed years, then this morning, looking for something else, I found a black-covered notebook in a plastic bag. Not recalling its contents, I took it out of the bag and opened it to some extensive writing I had done.

Skimming the text, I tried to get a notion of what the 18-20 page story was about. I could see I had done some editing of it as there were crossed-through words, and deletions; and rewritten paragraphs with reference arrows and numbers. I sat down at my desk to eventually read about a four-mile walk I made in 2005 with our Labrador, Cubby, from the family deer camp to home, after experiencing a flat front tire on the tractor. All in all I deemed it a good piece of work.

I also wrote about not really wanting to go on the sail trip (across the Gulf of Maine) but was going anyway because the plane tickets had been purchased. My attitude would probably change if I had a month to just breathe in and out, and little else to worry about, but the extension of time and limitation of physical space affect me; it may be too short of a time to really enjoy it, and too long of a time should it prove claustrophobic or miserable, although speaking of which I endured over eighty-hours of bus travel from North Dakota to Louisiana and back, but I wouldn’t encourage anybody else to do it. Come to think about it, Jerry was enthusiastic about that form of travel too ...

My part of this epic sail trip was titled, "Sailing Indian Summer: A Reluctant First Timer's Land and Sea Adventure." THE RAVEN, Volume 16, Issue 2, 2016.

Comments

Winter Returns Along Mikinaak Creek February 8-9th, 2024

This is the first channel wide moving water I've seen since the spring of 2023 --and it's in February! On maps, the creek (or ‘crick' depending on your dialect) is spelled ‘Mickinock’ for the Anishinaabe man who lived at the Indian camp at Ross, but had seasonal camps around Wannaska and other places. The Euro-American immigrants who homesteaded here in Roseau County called him ‘Chief,’ but he may have been just a spokesperson who knew enough English to get things done peacefully and simultaneously meet the needs of his people; the word, ‘chief' was often used in derision of any Indigenous male adult. I spell Mikinaak the Ojibwe way, in a gesture of respect; what the Dakota, who were here before the Anishinaabeg/Chippewa, called this place, this body of moving water I don’t know; just as I don’t know who came before them exactly. I was told that one of Mikinaak's camps were here on our place in Palmville Township. Its locat...

Friends to the End: Delmer Roseen and Curtis Johnson

Delmer and Curtis: Friends to the End From where he was buried on Saturday April 11th, 1992, the tin roofs of his buildings could be seen through the trees. Across the fence, at the foot of his grave, were the fields he farmed. Between them, Mikinaak Creek--so much a part of Delmer Roseen’s life and sadly, his death--still winds through willow slough, over beaver dams below the Palmville Cemetery, and past his door to the South Fork of the Roseau River, only a few yards to the southeast. Delmer lived northeast of us in Palmville Township. If I looked just right, I could see his yard light through the woods between his place and mine. Either of us could hear the soft ‘clung’ of the rope and pulley against the flag pole in the cemetery at the corner of our two farms. Red willows, popple islands, and slough grass; green mossy fence posts; the often submerged patchwork of woven wire, and the depth of water i...

1972 An August Adventure: Stormy Lake, Snake Bay, Ontario

My 1972 Toyota Land Cruiser A life changing event. I've had asthma all my life and it limited me somewhat until 1972, when after an event on a remote Canadian lake I was rushed to Dryden Area Hospital for emergency treatment of a pneumothorax /lung collapse. Early one morning, my dad and I left Des Moines, Iowa on 1530 mile round trip fishing expedition to Stormy Lake, Ontario; stopping in Roseau, Minnesota to join six family members: My uncle Martin and aunt Irene Davidson of Roseau, their son Jack Davidson and his 8-yr old son, Jeffrey, of Thief River Falls, Minnesota, and Jack's older brother Dean Davidson, and his 11-yr old son, Larry, of Clive, Iowa in addition to their two two vehicles, one with a boat atop it. We were pulling a one-wheeled trailer behind my brand new 1972 Toyota Land Cruiser to handle extra gear. Leaving Roseau as the last vehicle in the three car caravan, we headed off toward the...

WannaskaWriter

Search This Blog