A few days ago the Bismarck Tribune printed a picture of a badger and a coyote walking together on the prairie. Little more was said about it in the caption, but it could have made an interesting article. These two species do that, or is it better said that the wily coyote knows a cheap meal when he sees it. Badgers dig for their food and are very efficient at it. Once in awhile, though, their unearthed prey gets away on them and starts running away. Here's where the patient Mr. Coyote gets a cheap meal. My carving shows just such a situation. It must have been 12-15 years ago that I carved it. Like John Wayne says in the movie True Grit, "Time just gets away from us." But then someone else said, "Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live."
We'll be heading east to Fargo for Thanksgiving. With our little family all there now, it makes for convenient holidays. On the way a side trip to Lisbon will take us to visit my mother again. On the car's radio we can listen to all the blather about black Friday and how great the shopping deals will be. At one time Thanksgiving stood quite alone to be celebrated, and it was a good celebration. Oh, that lefse! But now it stands in the way of Christmas which at one time was looked on as a religious holiday. I think that many give religion little thought as being associated with Christmas. The way I look at shopping, it's the second mouse that gets the cheese, or another way of looking at it: since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
I'm reading a good book right now, Ivan Doig's The Bartender's Tale. As with most of Doig's stories, it takes place in Montana. This one is set in 1960, and a lot of it hearkens back to the construction of the Fort Peck Dam. Doig can write a good story. One item caught my eye when mention was made of the poor living conditions the workers had while the construction of the dam took place. Things are pretty tough now, too, but man-camps serve a large population of workers with adequate housing, and more is being built all the time.
Finally, I'm getting around to writing a story about Pigeon Point in Owego Township. I've found quite a little information with which to carry the story. It's a fascinating subject. John James Audubon wrote quite a little about the huge numbers of pigeons that flew about the country: "The air was literally filled with Pigeons; the light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse, the dung fell in spots, not unlike melting flakes of snow; and the continued buzz of wings had a tendency to lull my senses to repose." So it was in Owego. One old writer talked about knocking pigeons out of the trees with sticks. Why? They ate them. A market existed for them in big cities, so a few bucks could be made.
We'll be heading east to Fargo for Thanksgiving. With our little family all there now, it makes for convenient holidays. On the way a side trip to Lisbon will take us to visit my mother again. On the car's radio we can listen to all the blather about black Friday and how great the shopping deals will be. At one time Thanksgiving stood quite alone to be celebrated, and it was a good celebration. Oh, that lefse! But now it stands in the way of Christmas which at one time was looked on as a religious holiday. I think that many give religion little thought as being associated with Christmas. The way I look at shopping, it's the second mouse that gets the cheese, or another way of looking at it: since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
I'm reading a good book right now, Ivan Doig's The Bartender's Tale. As with most of Doig's stories, it takes place in Montana. This one is set in 1960, and a lot of it hearkens back to the construction of the Fort Peck Dam. Doig can write a good story. One item caught my eye when mention was made of the poor living conditions the workers had while the construction of the dam took place. Things are pretty tough now, too, but man-camps serve a large population of workers with adequate housing, and more is being built all the time.
Finally, I'm getting around to writing a story about Pigeon Point in Owego Township. I've found quite a little information with which to carry the story. It's a fascinating subject. John James Audubon wrote quite a little about the huge numbers of pigeons that flew about the country: "The air was literally filled with Pigeons; the light of noon-day was obscured as by an eclipse, the dung fell in spots, not unlike melting flakes of snow; and the continued buzz of wings had a tendency to lull my senses to repose." So it was in Owego. One old writer talked about knocking pigeons out of the trees with sticks. Why? They ate them. A market existed for them in big cities, so a few bucks could be made.
