Summer Kitchen

   When the heat of summer became unbearable, the cookstove was moved out to the porch where it was a bit cooler. Everyone used to have a summer kitchen. The lady of the house was given a break from the high indoor temperature for about the three hottest months of the summer.
   I remember how the food was put on the counter and we just helped ourselves and went out to a shady spot to eat.
   It wasn't just the everyday cooking that was the problem but the job of canning went on whenever there were things to be preserved. Meat, fruits and vegetables needed to be put up whenever they were available. The inside of the house was unbearably hot most of the summer.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

Good Reading,
Ron

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Hot Minnesota Summer

   Here it is at last. That one day that we can truly say "It's Summer!" Here in Northern Minnesota, we don't get this kind of weather very often. If I remember right, the last time we had summer, I was a child, of about 35 years of age.

   Fall, winter and spring eat up most of the year. We get the occasional day where we can sit on the river bank and fish without our minnow bucket freezing solid. But they are indeed rare. 

   The weather here can change quite rapidly too. I remember once that I was sitting in my boat fishing and the lake froze right in front of me. There must have been over two inches of ice, not nearly enough to walk on. 

   After two days without food, I tried walking to shore on the ice. I got just a few feet from the boat and the ice cracked and down I went. Yup, I drowned under the ice, right in the middle of summer. Honest!

   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
Good Reading,
Ron

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The River Comes Alive

   The rivers of Northern Minnesota during the summer are slow and low, just perfect for a slow paddling trip. But in the last week, they have turned into raging rivers, splashing and churning. With all the rain we have gotten, the rivers are full and have spilled out of their banks.

   In Itasca County, several roads were wiped right off the map and now as the waters recede, there is no trace of where a road once was. Water has a way of erasing things.

   A few years back there was a favorite lake that always provided good duck hunting. I hunted there for years. Then one rainy day, the river bank gave away and the lake disappeared. Completely gone in just a few minutes. Now you can walk across where the lake once was without getting your feet wet.

   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
Good Reading,
Ron

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Honey Bees

   Up here in Northern Minnesota we are experiencing a modern day disaster that is quite possibly of our own making. The honey bees are nearly gone. They have disappeared from the area and without their services, pollination won't be as vigorous as before they died.
   Professional beekeepers have reported many hives completely devoid of living bees. When the hives are opened, there is no queen or workers and barely any honey. The effect of this disaster will be noticed in the stores when honey and fruit prices rise because of their scarcity.
   Many studies are under way but early tests point to the wide use of cell phones. This is indeed a disaster of our own making and may just be the tip of the iceberg.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

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The Rapids

  

   One of the prettiest places described in "The River Calls" was the rapids below the General Store. Sometimes it barely made a sound, but in the spring, it made a terrible noise as if someone had awakened a sleeping ogre. The boulders were huge and in the spring these giants would actually be rolled down stream.

   Below these giants would be an area of calm water where the big walleyes would hang out waiting for someone to ring the dinner bell. If you could cast your bait in these small places, you would almost always catch a fish...... almost always.

   The rivers of Minnesota are always beautiful, but if you get a chance to see the Bigfork River in the spring, you will most certainly love it.

   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

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Ark Ark Ark

   Just when I thought I'd start loading up the new Ark I've built, the sun comes out bright and spectacular as usual. Now what am I going to do with a 300 cubit ark, not to mention the pair of skunks I rounded up. Life's hard for us old guys.
   Here in Minnesota, we live in extreme conditions. It's either extremely nice or extremely nasty. We never seem to get the average days. I've seen days that were so spectacular, you couldn't describe it on paper. I've also seen wind and snow so intense, that all you can do is hunker down in the barn with the critters.
   But as for today, it's pretty darned nice.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

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Log Cabin

   Most of us have seen the modern log homes, but they're a far cry from what the early settlers had for homes. Today's homes are works of art with all the logs fitting together well. The cabin used by the settlers was little more than a pile of logs stacked one upon the other. The cracks between the logs was filled with mud mixed with dried grasses. When dried is shrank and cracked and another load of this mixture was added.
   An extremely good carpenter built a beautiful log home in this area. He built a good roof and a large fireplace. The cabin even had wooden floors. Then the winds of winter came and his new house was tested. The caulking cracked and the chill winds tried to take all of his heat. During January, the only warm spot was right in front of the fire. Anything a few feet away from the fire, froze solid including his drinking water. The warmest he got his cabin in winter was 38 degrees. He only lived in this cabin for a short time, 27 years.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron


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coons coons and more coons

   In the book "The River Calls" old Wil spent a lot of time doing battles with the critters that live along the Bigfork River. Of all the animals, the raccoon was the hardest to control. He came in during the darkest nights and did a terrible amount of damage. Coons seem to favor corn, but will eat nearly anything.
   I've seen them eat a chicken in the same way you would eat a candy bar. They tip over the garbage and empty the bird feeders too.
   So what do you do to protect yourself from these varmints? Well, the first and most obvious is to build a canal around your property and fill it with alligators. If that doesn't work, buy a pit bull and train him to hate coons. Just remember to tell the mailman about the new dog.
   The next thing is to buy an electric fence. Now don't buy one of those little wimpy ones, buy one that will knock over an elephant. No messin' around here, it's time to get serious.
   Now, if that doesn't work, let me know and I'll give you my secret plan known as "X-492", guaranteed to keep your gardens safe.
   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 
   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.
   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Livestock

   In the book "The River Calls" our main character Wil always had to tend his stock. Most places on the Bigfork River back then had at least one cow and the cow of choice was the Holstein.

   This cow produced a lot of milk, cream, buttermilk and even ice cream when ice was available. 

   Not that many years ago, the family farm nearly disappeared. Farmers that had large herds of milk cows went out of business or tried other forms of farming. But today things have changed some. On my travels through Northern Minnesota I see that farmers are getting back into the milk business.

   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Imagine......

   As a kid, my world was a pretty small place. My house, the school, scouts and church was all I knew. School taught me that the world was indeed round and not just a small flat spot as it appeared to me. 

   My first clue to the magnitude of this place came one day when I was given an old tube type radio. Television wasn't available in Northern Minnesota yet. 

  On a warm summer evening, I plugged in the old radio and the size and scope of my world changed dramatically. As I slowly rotated the dial, stations from across the United States and Canada came to life in the brilliant technicolor of my imagination. There was Big John and Sparky, Andy Divine, The Shadow, Amos and Andy and the list went on and on. 

   I doubt that I slept that night. The next evening, I listened to world news from Canada and learned that wars were going on across the entire world in one form or other. I learned about a place called Korea and that scared me some.

   Today so very many years later, I still prefer radio. The pictures are so much better.

   You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Bigfork River

   The Bigfork River is a large part of of my book "The River Calls". This is no accident. This river is the lifeblood of the entire area and has been since the beginning of time. 

   In the spring it runs wild and free, splashing and churning with several rapids that not even the best canoeists would attempt. The excitement runs high for its entire course of many miles. The snowmelt makes this great river a sight to behold.

   But summer is a different story. Its mood changes to a gentle flow suitable to a sightseeing day of paddling. 

   Fall sees the river reflecting the colors of autumn. Red and gold leaves float downstream until they become waterlogged and sink to the bottom. The leaves provide a source of nourishment to the river.

   Winter is a time of quiet very cold days. But beneath the surface, schools of large fish still hunt for their dinner. Life and death battles go on without a break. Muskrats, otter and beaver are active under the ice. 

   What you see on the surface belies the furious activity beneath the ice. Each time you see a small patch of open water, you're likely to see an eagle sitting on a branch close by, waiting for something edible to make a mistake.

   In "The River Calls" we see life and death battles everywhere. That's what life is all about. Old guys like this author have seen a life filled with battles, some big some not so big, but we must have won them all or we wouldn't still be writing.

  You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Fresh bread....

  Have you ever walked into your house just when the fresh bread is about to be taken from the oven? It's a true feast for the senses. 

   In the book "The River Calls", Ma makes bread every other day. Not only that, she makes it in a wood fired cook stove. Now that takes some talent. There is no temperature control on that kind of stove except for the draft. 

   One of old Wil's favorite things in life is fried eggs, fresh side pork, heavily peppered and bread, right out of the oven. Now how can life get any better than that!

   Here at our place, we have a grain mill where we grind our own wheat into flour. It takes a while, but the results are nothing less than heavenly.

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

 You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day.   

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Timber Doodle

  Last evening I got a chance to see up close, one of the most secretive birds in North America, the Timber Doodle or American Woodcock. What a beauty.  I've see them many times, but not this close. He has a very long bill to dig for worms and a short heavy body.

  I remember as a kid, walking the forests near dark and hearing a very strange sound called peenting. The woodcock male flies high and then as he descends, he makes a beautiful song intended to impress the ladies. He repeats this over and over until he gets tired. Another of the many sounds of fall in Minnesota.

    I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

 You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day.   

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Hunting Northerns

   Have you ever hunted Northerns? Yes, the word is correct in this case. It really is hunting.

   Northern Pike are the equivalent of the Great White shark of the world's oceans. They are extremely crafty fish and successful at stalking other large fish. I have seen them steal a two pound walleye from my line and swim off slowly, just to make sure I'd seen it clearly.

   When you hunt the big ones, you use heavy equipment, like large hooks and steel leaders. But even then, your chances of actually landing one are quite small.  If you do hook a large one, the chances are good that you will tire out before he does.

   In the book "The River Calls", I speak of the way settlers used to try to herd them down a river in winter when the ice was thick. It was't fishing, it was hunting big game. 

   I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

 You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day.   

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron

Retirement

   I've heard that old age creeps up on a fella, kinda like a mountain lion sneaking up on a skunk. It's an amazing surprise for both and once we get there, we kinda wish we'd have never made the trip. But it's too late now pal, we're in this for the duration.

   All of my working life I yearned for the coming days of freedom, the time when I could do anything that I wanted to do. I had visions of fishing the cold clear lakes of Minnesota and wandering the wind swept beaches of Oregon. I could see myself sitting by a campfire in the evening, way up in Canada, roasting a moose over the coals or trying to figure out how to clean a fish.

   For years I thought it would be nice to see my boss come down with Alzheimer's and I'd be able to call him names and make faces at him. He'd have no clue who I even was. The problem is that the old jerk was still there at my retirement and in reasonably good health. He came up to me and even shook my hand, the old troglodyte.

   Now the things that had so irritated me, have passed in a wild array of sunsets. I have no one to complain about any more and it's a hard life. A fella really needs a jerk in his life just to keep things in balance ya know.

   The little lady is trying desperately to find something to occupy my time. Bungee jumping is at the top of her list but I think she might be just joking about that. I'm not sure though. I had considered sky diving but every time I get close to calling the airport, I get the hives. One time a century or so ago, I was on an old C-121 Constellation in an ice storm. Some guy handed me a parachute and told me to put it on. I thought about it for a while and figured that it would be better just to crash and burn with the plane.

   Today I have thoughts of standing in the door of a plane, trying to overcome my good common sense. My fingers have dented the doorway to the point where the door will never fit again, but I am however, quite determined. The pilot is making his seventh trip over the drop zone and starting to run a little short of fuel. It's not the falling through the air that bothers me, it's the problem of changing my Depends as I fall toward certain destruction.

   Then there's the problem of having a bad right foot, a fake left knee and a pair of manufactured hips. When I hit the ground, those parts would be so messed up that I'd probably be walking upright on my elbows. That's a scary thought at my age.

   But now I have talked myself into really doing it. I take a deep breath, say four "Hail Mary's", put my hand on the chute release and step off. I feel a hard impact but am afraid to open my eyes.    

   "What the hell are you doing?" asks my instructor.

   I open my eyes just a little and see that I'm lying on the ground next to the plane, covered in red parachute material. Guess I waited a bit too long.

   The days of my retirement are passing at a dizzying rate. I make plans to do this and that and none of them ever get done. One day I decided to go ice fishing. It used to be one of my favorite things. I started to inventory all of the things I'd need for such a trip. First there would be the assortment of fishing lures, a supply of fishing rods, an auger to cut a hole with, a supply of candy bars, cold weather clothes, heavy boots, a large heater with an even larger supply of propane tanks, a first aid kit to remove imbedded hooks, a GPS unit, a compass, heavy mittens, books and magazines in case I get bored, a wind shelter, three cases of beer, three rolls of toilet paper, four boxes of assorted Pop Tarts, my blood sugar meter and testing supplies, one tube of Fixodent, all my prescriptions and of course some sun screen. Then there's the new pickup truck to haul it all in and the snowmobile to get across the lake. As close as I can figure, it would cost me around $48,000 and that doesn't include my new crash helmet. The little woman is recovering nicely from the shock. I promised her not to do any ice fishing until she gets out of the hospital.

   Summers have always been great for us retired guys. There's the fishing, the yard work and the gardening, all of which keep me quite busy. By the time May first rolls around, I've already found several good excuses why those things are no fun. And so I continue searching for something to do.

   I heard that Geocaching is a great new sport. Someone hides a little container with small trinkets inside and gives out the coordinates where it can be found. When you find it, you open the box, take something out and put something in for the next guy. I just gotta do this.

   Down to the local Army Navy Store to purchase the needed items. The GPS is $400.00 and the rest of the items I need come to around……… well, it's a lot. There's the GPS, a couple books, a first aid kit, a compass, appropriate clothes, appropriate boots, a heavy duty cell phone, a diary, a log book, fly spray, a spare tube of Preparation H, software to program the GPS, another new shirt, 3 rolls of toilet paper (notice the pattern?) a signal mirror, and a large pack of signal flares. This time the cost was considerably less, coming in at just under $3500 and this time the little lady took the checkbook and credit cards away from me. Where's her sense of adventure!

   I figured that there had to be a secret spot where old guys hung out in the wintertime so I went in search of such a place. After a few days and a couple tanks of gas, I found 'em. They were hiding in the courthouse. The whole place was filled and I was a happy man. I found a place to sit and tried to strike up a conversation with the guy next to me. He didn't seem to want to talk much. Then a guy everyone called "Your Honor" asked me to leave. I never did figure that one out.

   Time started to get the best of me one winter. I was sitting in the garage feeding chunks of birch into the barrel stove when I came up with a plan. I'd invite a bunch of old guys I knew over to the secret hideout called "The He-Man Women Hater's Club". Now this had the makings for a pretty good idea. I called 14 guys but didn't tell them what it was about.

   Around 11 next morning, they started to shuffle in. I had chairs set out and had even bought some crackers and peanut butter to go with the grape Kool-Aid. Now we were set. I stood up in front of them and told them my grand idea. To my great surprise, they figured it was a pretty good plan. We'd have a secret handshake and a secret sign that no one else would know. Meetings were every day around noon. The whole thing would be a secret sworn to in blood… or something. No women would be allowed. None…. We hadn't decided what we'd do but I was sure it would be a lot of fun. The meeting ended with many kind and generous old codgers patting me on the back and asking where I got the guts to even speak about such things.

   By the third day, the membership was dwindling and by the fourth day, I was back to feeding the barrel stove again, all by myself. I couldn't figure it out. That evening I called one of the guys we called Lefty. I dialed the phone and waited.

   "Hello."

   "Is Lefty there?"

   "Say! Just who is this anyway?" a woman asked.

   "Just tell him Slugger wants to talk to him." I said.

   "Well Slugger, Lefty can't come to the phone right now. I heard about your little club and after we spoke about it for a while, he decided not to come any more."

   "Uh. Well… OK." I stammered.

   The next day I saw my old pall Lefty down at the barber shop. He had a black eye and a slight limp. All he said was. "Women haters huh? You just about got me killed with that one."

   The next day I was back once more, feeding the barrel stove, alone.

   Winter was moving along but at a slightly slower pace than what I wanted. The garage floor had been swept so many times, that the concrete was wearing thin. On my drive through town that day I spotted a sign that said "Buttershots $4.00 per liter." I didn't know what a liter was, but I had a darned good idea what Buttershots was. It tasted like butterscotch and was served over ice. I walked in and bought two liters, somewhere around three gallons I think. I stashed my purchase under the spare tire and headed for home. As I pulled into the driveway, I saw the little woman shoveling the sidewalk and I waved politely. I think she waved back.

   Once the garage door was down and locked, I threw another log on the fire and then went to retrieve my purchase from the trunk. Yup, just as I left them. I opened one and took a sip. "Whew!" That stuff was strong. I didn't dare go inside for ice though. The little woman would put me to work doing some kind of a demeaning chore. That idea was out. I had to come up with plan "B".

   Over on the workbench behind the lawn mower engine was a fairly clean metal cup from about World War One. It would suffice. I went out the back door and scooped up a little of the clean snow that hadn't been peed on yet and then back to the bottle of Buttershots. I poured a little on the snow and went to take a sip. No good. The snow just soaked it all up. I needed more. I tipped up the bottle and kept pouring until I could see it start to turn a yellowish caramel color. I walked back over to the stove and sat down in my most "favoritist" chair. I raised a toast to us retired guys and took a big gulp.

   "Doggone!" That stuff was great.

   Then with the experience of many years in the garage, I put my stash in a good hiding place. Didn't want the little woman seeing it ya know.

   I licked my lips and took another and then another. That stuff was pretty good. By the time I finished that cupful, the room was starting to seem a bit unstable. I lurched over to where the jugs were hidden and did it all over again. I poured a generous amount (somewhere around eight fingers) and put it back into hiding. Now this was a really good way to spend a day. The barrel stove was nice and warm. The radio was playing Paul Harvey and I was in hog heaven.

   The next time I went for a refill, I couldn't remember where I had hidden the stuff, so I just went back and sat down by the fire.

   I never did hear the end of the Paul Harvey show that day. When I finally came to, the garage was around 15 degrees below zero and my head felt like Lefty's wife had smacked me a good one too. What had started out to be a fun day, kinda fizzled and died and so did I.

   Retirement has kinda had its ups and downs but in general, I can pretty much do any darned thing I want to. Of course there are some things that when once tried are better left alone and then there are the things that the little
lady doesn't approve of and the things that ……….. etc.

 I invite you to visit "The River Calls" blog site each day for a small look into what life was like a long time ago.

 You can find the EBook Kindle edition of "The River Calls" at Amazon.com and at www.peaceriverbooks.com. The Peace River Books blog is updated each day.   

   Glad you stopped into "therivercalls" blog. We'll try to put something new here each day.
Good Reading,
Ron