Becky Thatcher

It felt like a Becky Thatcher sort of day.

Let me back up a little bit to explain. Last week marked the beginning of the late summer birthday season in my family. My father-in-law turned 79 on Wednesday, my father turned 72 on Friday, my stepmother turned 55 on Sunday, my youngest turns 20 this Saturday, and my Most-Perfect-Uncle will turn 60 a week from Wednesday. And the birthdays continue into September, too!

So last week my father-in-law asked if the family could join him for fishing on the float in Alma on the Mississippi River to celebrate his birthday. "Bronny, you should come, too," he insisted. (Yes, there is a small population of humans who get away with calling me "Bronny;" my college classmates and my husband's family. Period.) Today worked out as the only day most of us could show up. So my husband, his brother Larry, one of our sons, Joren, and I piled in the pick-up truck this morning to go join Grampa on the raft for a day of fishing.

My father-in-law is a bit of a prankster and I take it as a sign of affection and approval that he likes to tease and try to play pranks on me. But now and then I have to zing him back, just to maintain respect. So today I grabbed my antique fishing pole to take to the raft. Last month Dale and I found a 14 foot long bamboo fishing pole in the rafters of one of our sheds. We're relatively certain it hasn't seen the light of day, much less the kiss of cool water, for over 30 years.

Grampa DuWayne just laughed when I brought my over-long, unsophisticated fishing pole on the raft today. It got all kinds of longing looks from the old timers. And the youngsters (anyone younger than me at almost 50) looked at it like it was some strange device, perhaps akin to a telephone that actually dials and doesn't require electricity. Using a combination of DuWayne's tackle and my fly fishing gear, I tied a line to the thin end of the bamboo, loaded it up with a big, old red and white bobber, added a sinker, a modest hook, and a juicy big worm. I tossed the rig into the water and waited . . . .

I had a sunfish on the line in less than three minutes. WooHoo!

So here's the Becky Thatcher part. I got to spend the day on this amazing raft below the Alma Dam on the Mississippi fishing with a bunch of guys, and no one gave me grief when I just swung my Sunfish over to them for removal. I did grab a couple off the line myself, and I dealt with my own worms 95% of the time. I caught 14 Sunnies with the antique equipment and five of them were keepers.

The guys were mostly spin casting. They caught a lot of Sheepshead, which we keep and donate to the Eagle Center in Wabasha. They were catching Sunnies, too, and a northern and a few Small Mouth Bass. It was a good day to be on the water; upper 80's and humid. Cloud cover that rolled in in the early afternoon kept us from truly baking. Joren caught a nap in the recliner on the porch as well as a number of fish.

We had some excitement over the course of the day, too. Grampa DuWayne caught a 42 inch, 6 1/2 pound Gar with a split lower jaw. This is the kind of fish, that as an avid River Rat, who frequently swims in the Mighty Mississip, I would rather not see. Confirmation of prehistoric fish with a long jaw full of sharp teeth does not warm the heart. But is was impressive, nonetheless.

Several turtles were also caught. After I tired of the knots on my old fashioned fishing rig I switched to Arthur's spin casting Shakespeare rod, in honor of his absence due to work. (He put in a 14 hour day today!) I caught my biggest Sunny with his rig, and the biggest snapping turtle of the day! What a hoot.

And when they finally got him loose from the hook and the landing net, I was perched atop a bench to stay clear of the turtle temper tantrum.

Like Becky Thatcher, as much as I like hanging out with the boys, I'm still a girl who likes to wear pretty dresses at heart. (I did wear my Hawaiian Seahorse Sundress for fishing today!)

We concluded our antics with a stop at the Eagle Center in Wabasha to drop off a five gallon bucket of fresh fish and got a free pass to the staff area after hours and a personal audience with Angel, one of the Bald Eagles in residence. VERY COOL.

Did I mention that while on the raft we were buzzed by the biggest immature American Bald Eagle I have ever laid eyes on.

Wow! What a day. Thank you, Skovemen, for taking me fishing today. It truly was a blessing. Sunnies for supper were outstanding.

Oh, and Happy Birthday, Grampa!

M is for Marvelous and Miraculous

It was a marvelous weekend and a miraculous return home.

On Friday morning nine of my best friends who volunteer as costumers at Dress Me Up Costumes gathered in my driveway to depart for the annual Galena Girls weekend.  This eclectic group of unlikely friends gathers annually (for 10 or more years) to escape our daily routine for a weekend in early December. We retreat to my childhood hometown of Galena, Illinois, where we rent a home at The Territory through Almost Heaven Rentals. We engage in all of the best aspects of a road trip as we wend our way down the Mighty Mississippi River on the Great River Road. Once in residence in Jo Daviess County we indulge in eating, drinking, shopping, hot-tubbing, and games (not in any particular order).

This year we diverged from an established route down US Highway 61 to LaCrosse and south on Wisconsin 35 to the Dickeyville Grotto. Instead we cruised down US Highway 52 on the Minnesota side and made pit stops in Harmony, Minnesota, to look at the Amish furniture, and in Decorah, Iowa, to try and extract my BlackBerry car charger from my son's car at Luther College. Joren was a little disoriented about his mother and her nine friends interrupting his midday nap at the end of the term, but he handled it politely, remembering to give his godmother and mother hugs.

We stopped at the newly opened Potosi Brewing Company and brewing museum while en route. It's a pretty amazing place where we acquired a "growler" of beer for later consumption. After meeting with Eric, who faithfully leads us to our home for the weekend, Harmony House, we headed back into town for supper at Canova's. YUM.

Saturday morning brought rain that morphed into beautiful snow as the day drew on. We shopped with our Holiday Head-gear on full display. I purchased a new holiday headpiece to replace my destroyed Whoville Mistletoe. I call my new look "Blitzed."

We had a lovely home-cooked dinner (group effort) with my father at our rented domicile and took full advantage of all the amenities before we headed for bed on Saturday night. We slept during the blizzard and woke to a truly bleak midwinter.

Driving home to Hastings, which should take approximately five hours by most standards, took just over nine hours. This marks the first time that we have taken longer to return home than to drive to Galena. I believe that it was about seven hours of wheels rolling time. But Galena to Cabela's in Prairie Du Chien, Wisconsin, was a treacherous road. I, in my trusty Ford F150 with four-wheel-drive, drift-busted for my compatriot, Beth, in her Toyota Highlander. It was a little dicey in some one-lane S-curves east of Fennimore, but we made it. I suspect our average speed for the entire drive today was close to 40 mpr.

Mostly, I am so deeply thankful for this group of women. I am blessed to call them friends. This year we even welcomed one of our youngest to the fold. Katie held her own with the grown-ups and proved herself mature, responsible, and full of fun in spite of a nagging cough. Welcome to the Galena Girls, Katie! We hope you'll stick with us.

Until next trip . . . . .

Godspeed!

P is for Perfect

It was a perfect first Monday of vacation.

I spent the first six hours working in my vegetable garden, ignoring the occasional drizzle and overcast clouds. I didn't get too hot, nor did I get sunburned. The bugs left me alone, too.

We're down to the last four kohlrabi plants; sure is tasty this year. I pulled the bolted spinach and lettuce rows and fed some to the goat and composted the rest. I tilled and weeded and raked and weeded some more. I thinned out the sweet corn and pruned the tomato vines.

Joren, the Dill Pickle Maniac, planted cucumbers next to the dill. We're hopeful that the growing season will be good and long like it was last summer. We lost the first cukes to an early May freeze and failed to get them reseeded in a timely fashion. We planted with a prayer. I threw in another row of carrots and some scallions. I think we'll try some fall spinach, lettuce, and peas this year. We'll get one really nice crop of peas tonight. Yum.

The best news of the garden is that there is ZERO evidence of any rabbit penetration of the new fence. So I was quite cheerful getting grubby in the garden. Oh, and the Zucchini thing has begun :) Local friends, consider yourself warned!

The finish to the perfect day was a cruise on the Mighty Mississippi with Tom and Beth in their new boat, the Regal Eagle. After putting in with no problems at the public landing in Red Wing, Tom docked the boat at the Harbor Bar like he'd been docking boats all his life. We picked up Capt. Steve-the-Lumberjack and Princess Kathy and off we went to look at Lake Pepin.

It was a peaceful night on the river; lousy with Bald Eagles perched here, there, and everywhere. The river is flowing high and fast and was quite warm. I couldn't resist taking a dip in Lake Pepin. Sunset was captivating and after dropping Steve and Kathy back at the Harbor Bar, Beth backed in the trailer and Tom got the boat on the trailer on his first attempt. No marital screaming, no arguments. Dale and I were quite impressed. These proud new boat owners have the makings of River Rat written all over their behavior.

Welcome to the Mighty Mississipp'!

(And THANK YOU, Tom and Beth, for the delightful ride and an excellent kick-off to our vacation.)