For Sale

There's a constant ebb and flow of goods and services washing through the community bulletin boards and classified ads (we even have a Yooper Craigslist!) in our small town. It's one of my favorite spices in what an outsider may consider a bland stew of rural, small town life.

So, from time to time I'm going to share a taste of the local buy-sell economy from my little slice of the world.

Here it goes:

Guns. There are always guns for sale. Or even guns wanted. They are as much a part of our culture as bread and butter (or Busch Light and large trucks). However, some are more interesting than others, as seen in this recent ad. Two of these are semi-automatic assault-style rifles designed primarily for self defense (or self offense).

But the last one is a muzzleloader, like a new-fangled version of Danny Boone's thunderstick. I found it interesting that there was an assault rifle, with no less than 800 rounds of ammunition, for sale alongside a rifle that shoots one bullet, then must be filled with powder and a new bullet pushed down the front of the gun before it can fire again. Two very different concepts.

But the fact that they are all for sale, means to me that one of my neighbors has now probably upgraded to a tank.

Maybe you're wondering what someone would do with a semi-auto assault rifle and 800 rounds of ammunition. Which leads us to...

Animals: there are ALWAYS animals for sale or to give away to a good home (and a well armed one). This week we have free kittens.

It's one stop shopping. It's a win-win. Two birds with one stone. Three kittens with one...HK91.

Also, notice that poor Fido has gone missing. Hmmm, better count your AK47 shells prior to purchase; there may only be 799.

The reward money is $300, and that's nearly enough for another assault rifle. Did they specify what shape man's best friend was to be returned in?

Disclaimer: I love animals; I also own firearms. This is all in fun.

First Snow

We're getting our first meaningful snow this week. It makes me think about the power of forgiveness.

Only six months ago winter had pushed us to the ragged fringes of sanity, but today, these first flakes are so incredibly beautiful, refreshing--and surprisingly welcome. It's a winter baptism after a short, but hectic summer.

While April snow is an obnoxious guest that refuses to leave, an October snow is a prodigal son, with whom all is forgiven.

At least until April.

Weekend Guest

So, what happens when you cut big holes in your house with a chainsaw on a fall weekend? Well, naturally an owl flies in and spends the night!

A bewildered little sawhet owl, probably migrating through on his way down from Canada, stopped in for a visit recently. Apparently a gap in the temporary plastic covering the hole for a new window was just too tempting to pass by. He made his way up the stairs and perched on a nightlight where he was discovered by guests.

After a bit of pandemonium, and a few flash photos, I punched a window screen out and he flew back into the night.

Exciting time here in the Northwoods.

Home Improvement

So, ever since we bought this old farm, my "real job" of travel writing and photography has slowed a bit as I work to remodel our house. Here's a bit of recent video showing what it takes to install a new window in a 100-year-old log home. Note the blue exhaust from a bit of old gas and the chiming of both the smoke alarm and CO2 alarm at the same time--quite an achievement!

Sauced

Who has time to blog when fall is falling all around? One thing I'd like to share from the past few weeks is our annual Apple Fest, or Apple Camp, or Sauce Fest or whatever you want to call it. Friends gather and help process several hundred pounds of semi-wild apples from our property and surrounding abandoned farms. Some apples are perfect table fruit, but most look fit only for the deer. All of them get quartered, steamed to a mush, then milled to separate out the skins and seeds. Add a little sugar, maybe some spices, and voila--sauce fit for a king. Or at least a toddler. We divide up the sauce and take it home to can on our own. This year we set a new record of around 40 gallons. Now that's what I call getting sauced.

Simmer Down

I need a time-out. Quiet time. A nap perhaps? Summer in the Upper Peninsula is short and furious, and we do everything we can to take advantage of the long, lingering daylight of the north. This summer has been no exception, except, that we haven't actually been home much to enjoy the short season. We've been on the road since early July with assignments, so it's good to be home now. It's time to simmer down. There's lots to do on the old place, and I'm looking forward to harvesting the garden (if the frost doesn't get it first) and getting the house ready for fall and winter.

A Scythe of Relief

My new lawnmower cuts a ten-foot swath and runs on organic vegetables, fair-trade Java and a massive quantity of dairy products.

Let me introduce you to my new hobby: mowing. Hand mowing, that is, with a scythe. Since this spring I've been filleting the weeds and grass on our 40 acres with what has to be one of the most beautiful hand tools ever.

Now this isn't the old heavy, curved-shaft contraption with the mass-produced stamped steel blade that broke the spirit and back of your grandfather. No sir, this comes from the mountain valleys of Austria, where folks hand hammer layers of steel into a finely curved blade as delicate and light as pastry crust and as sharp as a carving knife.

Then, good people in Maine pair them with ash handles (called snaths) that are custom fit to customer's dimensions. The whole kit, with a whet stone, holder, instructions (who needs em!) etc. comes in the mail. You assemble it, and then you're a mowing machine.

Well, not exactly. Seems those instructions are useful after all. But after a while you begin to find the rhythm of the scythe. It's often described as dancing, as the mower weights one leg, then rocks to the other leg as the blade sings in an arc, finally laying the mowed grass to one side as the process repeats.

It's a beautiful, meditative thing. It provides exercise and hay to use as mulch in the garden (I've snuffed all the weeds and fought off two frosts already this summer) and does it all in peace and quiet.

Plus, it gives me yet another wacky thing to write about!