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All I Want For Christmas is My Two Front Teeth... In August!

6/27/2016

By William Weinrich
It was fair time, and my younger sisters had taken two of my prized heifers to the fair and both of them were heavy with calves. The stork was due anytime, so I was at home getting the cows milked, or trying to. I was about five minutes late getting to the barn and I had the cows come to the barn when I played a bluegrass song- “Mule Skinner Blue,” sung by the late Bill Monroe. The cows would come to the barn in a hurry.

That certain day the needle on the record player was broken, so I couldn’t play the song. The cows were in the back pasture, so I walked back in the pasture to round up the cows to get them to the barn. Dad had a favorite cow he called “Old Babe.” She was as ornery as hen’s teeth. (I forgot hens don’t have teeth.) Anyway, Old Babe just had her calf and it was a jim dandy heifer calf. Old Babe wanted to fight and fight she did. Finally I got Old Babe and her new calf to the barn where I thought Old Babe would settle down. She was the last cow to be milked. She had two more calves beside this new one and she was ornery every time she had a calf. But I thought maybe things would be better this time. How wrong I was.

Old Babe was broke to an electric milker and she had enough sense to come in the milking parlor to get milked. Old Babe practically few in the parlor to the feedbox. Things went along quite well until I started to put the milkers on Old Babe. She went nuttier than a fruitcake.

Old Babe kicked over the milker pail, busted the hoses loose, and to top that off, Old Babe kicked me right square in the mouth when I started to clean up the mess she’d made.

When I got through spitting blood and manure and dirt, I discovered that Old Babe had kicked out my teeth. To be exact, my two front teeth. And there they lay, in the manure and dirt. My senses finally came back to me, and man did my teeth hurt- what was left of them. About that time my wife drove down to the barn and said, “One of the heifers at the fair is calving.”

I told my wife, “What’s next?”

Her comment was, “What did you do to your two front teeth?”

“Old Babe kicked them out,” I said. Old Babe looked at me, and if a cow could laugh, she was doing it right then. Out of the barn she went, heck bent for election. Down the cow path she ran. I told my wife I had better get her because I will need her milk to feed her calf.

So I followed Old Babe back to the woods pasture. The old fool had twin heifer calves and she had hid this one in the brush! I was hurtin’ so bad that I didn’t have the heart to say anything to Old Babe. Finally I got Old Babe to the house and she didn’t say a word about me putting her calf in the pen with her twin sister. What am I saying, Old Babe didn’t say a word? Cow’s can’t talk, and I couldn’t either at that point and time!

My wife took one look at me and said “Your face is all swelled up.”

I got the barn cleaned up and I sure was glad to sit down for a minute. My wife said “Don’t forget about the heifer at the fair.” So, my wife drove me to the fair. I forgot to mention that my wife was seven months pregnant. Can’t you folks see my wife driving a pickup truck? She had about two inches to spare between her and the steering wheel.

When we finally got to the fairgrounds there must have been over a hundred people in the dairy barn. Over a hundred people had seen this new calf hit the ground. What a day, or rather a night.
When I got home, or rather when my wife and I got home, I was hurting so bad I couldn’t sit still. Throb, throb all night long. My wife tried ice packs, pain pills and that didn’t help. So I walked the floor all night long. I couldn’t get any sleep, not even a wink. I forgot to mention this was Saturday night and the dentist office was closed. So, my wife took me to the emergency room and the emergency room doctor took a look at me and said, “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. You will have to see a dentist.”

So I had to wait until Monday. What a weekend.

Finally Monday morning got here and as soon as my wife thought the dentist was in the office, she called him. His reply was “I can’t see your husband because I am booked up solid. Take your husband to the emergency room.” My wife told the dentist I had already been to the emergency room.

So, back to the emergency room we went. Thank goodness there was a different emergency room doctor. He took x-rays and all kinds of stuff, and told me my jaw was badly sprained, but I would be eating through a straw for a few days.

But the emergency room doctor suggested that I go to see a dental surgeon as soon as possible to get the rest of my two front teeth cut out. That same day I got the rest of my two front teeth out.
Dad felt sorry for me for what Old Babe had done to me. He gave me Old Babe’s twin heifer calves. They weren’t as crazy as their mother was. And Old Babe had a set of bull calves that I broke to work. But that’s another story.

William Weinrich is a frequent contributor who lives in Piketon, Ohio. He writes stories of farming from the hills of Sunfish Creek.

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210th Anniversary in Minnesota!

6/27/2016

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French in This Neck of the Woods Made Louisiana Purchase Possible

Artwork and Story by Bob Perrizo

It was 210 years ago that Lewis & Clark completed their “Corps of Discovery” journey into the West to complete American claims on more than half a continent. Ironically, most Minnesotans don’t realize that the resultant Louisiana Purchase began here with the first French explorers who arrived from the Great Lakes as far back as 1660!

Pierre Radisson and Medard Groseilliers were the first Europeans of record to come down the Great Lakes and discover our Upper Mississippi that year. Then explorers Joliet, Marquette, Duluth, LaSalle, Hennepin, LeSueur, Charlevoix and LaVerendrye followed to cement French claims on the reat river from here to Louisiana by 1682.

An art exhibit entitled “From Canoes to Canvas” by artist/historian Robert Perrizo celebrates those first French forefathers and was recently on display at the famed Jaques Art Gallery in Aitkin, MN. Some 50 original oil paintings and portraits brought to life that colorful period when those explorers and an influx of brave French fur traders roamed our woodlands and lake country.

Those early French of Minnesota were already 1,500 miles inland and trading with the Dakota when Jamestown was still just a small fort on America’s Atlantic coast.
It was the presence of fur traders who paddled downriver, traveling alone and often intermarrying into various American Indian nations, that helped those early French claims to hold up. Eventually, as the influx of Europeans reached our Mississippi, some fur traders moved west from Minnesota to become the first mountain men.

This timeline reveals the early sequence of events that made Minnesota pivotal to the Louisiana Purchase of 1803:

1608 – Samuel de Champlain, a soldier/humanitarian of France, establishes the first successful French colony in the New World at Quebec on the Atlantic coast of today’s Canada after four failed attempts by previous explorers. His settlement is based on treating the native Indians as equals, and Champlain creates a network of young fur traders to live with them, learn their languages and fur trade practices, and even marry into their tribes. In return, he invites young sons of the Chiefs of those tribes to live with the French and do the same. Champlain is also intrigued with the possibility of a “Northwest Water Passage” beyond the Great Lakes that would lead through the new Continent to the Pacific Ocean. He heard rumors of a major tribe of Indians that lived beyond the chain of Great Lakes he called the “Nation of the beef” for their rumored skills as buffalo hunters on foot in the days before horses (North America was devoid of horses since the time of the last ice age). He prayed he would one day meet with this tribe, which later turned out to be the Dakota, who had migrated from Ohio possibly as early as the 1500s to today’s Minnesota.

1660 – Some 24 years after Champlain’s death, two of the greatest of all the fur-trading Couriers des bois, or fur-trading “runners of the woods,” left Three Rivers on the St. Lawrence to meet with those mysterious Dakota. They left on an extremely dangerous mission without French government approval under cover of darkness with their Huron and Ottawa trading partners. Surviving two attacks by enemy Iroquois and a winter of near starvation near today’s Hayward, WI, they managed to reach the Mississippi River for a rendezvous with the Dakota near present day Hastings, MN, in the spring of 1660. The gathering included Radisson and Groseilliers, their Huron and Ottawa friends, some visiting Cree from Hudson’s Bay and the host Dakota and was a big success. The two Frenchmen thus became the first Europeans of record to see the Upper Mississippi, and they returned with the largest trove of prime furs ever seen in Quebec.

1661 – King Louis XIV is crowned monarch of France and all future French claims on the Mississippi River are made in his name (thus the Louisiana purchase).

1673 – Louis Joliet and Fr. Jacques Marquette follow the lead of Radisson and Groseilliers by taking an expedition including two canoes and five voyageurs down the Mississippi to determine if the Great River drained into the Gulf of Mexico or the Pacific Ocean. They paddle as far south as the Arkansas River and, spotting enemy Spanish soldiers, they decide to turn back, but not until satisfying themselves that the Great River did indeed drain into the Gulf of Mexico and not the desired Pacific.

1679 – Daniel Greysolen, Sieur Duluth, arrives at the western end of the Great Lakes to rendezvous with the Dakota near where the city of Duluth now stands. The tribesmen escort him to their stronghold on the south shore of Lake Mille Lacs, where he formally claims the country for King Louis XIV.

1680 – Robert Cavalier de LaSalle of France begins his canoe explorations down the Mississippi from the foot of Minnesota to claim all drainages from the west for France. With him are Fr. Louis Hennepin (a cartographer and diarist) and two sub-explorers who are then sent northward to determine the source of the Mississippi while he concentrates explorations to the south.

1680-- Fr. Hennepin and the two sub-explorers are almost immediately captured by a band of marauding Dakota and are taken, under a sort of house arrest, to the tribe’s stronghold on Lake Mille Lacs. The missionary is entranced with the Indians, their buffalo hunting expeditions on foot and in canoes at river crossings, and the natural beauty of Minnesota’s lakes, rivers and the Great Plains teeming with buffalo. He begins recording his experiences in a notebook before the trio of explorers are rescued by Duluth, who heard of their “captivity” while canoeing on the St. Croix River.

1683 – Fr. Hennepin, back in France once again, writes a book on his experiences with the Dakota of Minnesota entitled Description of Louisiana (the Mississippi). After being translated into several European languages, it became the first best-selling book about the New World.

1695 – Pierre Charles LeSueur -- a military man, explorer and fur trader – establishes a fort at Prairie Island (where Radisson and Groseilliers originally landed on the Mississippi). He goes on to build Fort L’Huillier near Mankato, make mineral claims there and establish a buffalo meat-processing plant with the Dakota Indians. LeSueur also makes possibly the northernmost claims on the Mississippi at Sandy Lake.

1731 – Pierre Gaultier de Varennes, Sieur de La Verendrye, opens new western territories for French trading by establishing a post at Grand Portage on Lake Superior. With his sons and a nephew, he moves westward to build more forts while searching for a northwest water passage through the west to the Pacific. LaVerendrye becomes the first European to meet with the master trading Mandan Indians on the Missouri River and barter for horses.

1783 – The North West Fur Company out of Montreal establishes Grand Portage as the western terminus of the Great Lakes fur trade. The new company then begins deploying many French hivernants (wintering fur traders) in the Minnesota wilderness to live and work with the native Indians to gather furs. Many of these French settle in the region and intermarry into various tribes to form mixed-blood Metis’ (French/Indian) citizens.

\1797 – Joseph Renville, the son of a French trader and a Dakota mother, begins an illustrious fur trading career on the Mississippi near Sauk Rapids. He goes on to found the Columbia Fur Company in 1822 in the Red River Valley and become a valued peace-maker among the Indians. He is an interpreter for Zebulon Pike’s conferences with the Dakota and for other explorations on the Mississippi headwaters. In 1823 he was an interpreter for the U.S. Government, establishing a trading post at Lac Qui Parle. Later, he translates the Bible into the Dakota language.

1803 – Napoleon Bonaparte of France sells nearly half a continent to American President Thomas Jefferson in the Louisiana Purchase that startles the whole world.

1806 – Meriwether Lewis and William Clark complete their Corps of Discovery expedition across the American West to conclude the Louisiana Purchase.

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Nice Corner of the World

6/22/2016

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Nice Corner of the World
By Jerry Mevissen

Editor’s note: This story is taken from The Nimrod Chronicles, authored by Mevissen and published in 2003 by North Star Publishing.

Middle of July, middle of summer. Must be the old-school-year mentality that says summer is June, July, August. Time to review accomplishments, survey the present, plan the remaining weeks.

In a word, summer is good. New farm babies-- as of Monday, four Scottish Highland calves, another Arab-Belgian cross colt, thirteen baby chicks. All doing well, thank you. I’m way past capacity for these 50 wooded acres. But I have trouble with herd reduction. Which one of the kids do you get rid of?

The river vacillates this year, up and down, fast and slow, cold and warm. Wild rice is growing in the slow waters of the bay. The sandbar at the bend is inches below water. Canoe traffic is light. Seems strange, because the river is so calm now, so clear, so relaxing.

The bald eagle perches predictably at the bend. Sam, the great blue heron, stands stoic in his assigned spot in the afternoon shade. Warblers, finches, and phoebes work the river for mayflies that reflect sun through their wings and float like thistle seed.

Midsummer has its own smells. Fresh cut clover. Bales of new hay. The aroma of blooming basswoods rides in on a breeze from the driveway. Subtle, mysterious, alluring.

Wildflowers switch from pink and purple to yellow and orange. Tiger lily, brown-eyed Susan, goldenrod. Cattails form in road ditches. Wild babies breath blooms in total abandon.

This is my year to take a break from all capital improvements, to cut back on maintenance. No garden, no sidewalk project, no fencing, greenhouse, or sauna. Strangely, I’m getting accustomed to the untrimmed grass, the stalks, brown and seeded, waving in the breeze. And where I did mow, it’s brown, brittle.

Chipmunks work the cattle feeder for spilled corn. Red squirrels steal from the unattended dog dish. A fox makes gutsy daytime forays, scouting a chicken dinner.

At noon, it’s quiet. The windmill rotates slowly, indicates a breeze from the southwest. Horses stand side by side, head to rump, swish each other’s flies. Cattle are up to their bellies in the stock pond. Calves sleep in the shade, alone. Mother hen dusts herself in the shade of the barn, in powdery sand. Baby chicks watch, mimic.

Pasture grass is low. Tonight, the cows and horses will surround the bale feeders. Weatherman says 60 percent chance of rain. Clouds gather, move slowly north. A sudden breeze builds, blows north, billows sheets hanging on the clothesline soaking up river woods air.

During the night, an owl calls. Close to the house. Calls again. One of the joys of talking to animals is deciding what they say. This one says, “Hey, nice corner of the world.” I agree, roll over, and sleep.

This morning, I check the pasture. I count Highland calves. Five. I count again. Five. A newborn calf last night. Cute little bull calf. He lies under a birch tree while mother eats at the bale feeder, doesn’t move until Kelly the collie sidles up, whimpers, sniffs. Proud mother waddles over, licks his coat, looks at me, and says, “Kinda cut, huh?” Proud father, MacDuff, stands by the barn, chews cud with a grin, and says, “That’s my boy!” Draft horses watch from their side of the fence and say, “He has his mother’s color.”

Back to the house for coffee. I’ll listen closer to that owl next time.

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Borg's Llamas get into a Pickle

6/20/2016

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Written and Photographed by Kate Perkins
Editor

The welcoming party at Bobbie Borg’s ranch is strong. Upon arrival at Achen Ass Acres, visitors are greeted by a tiny herd of small dogs, all barking, eager and friendly, gathered say hello and see who’s come to visit.
Among Borg’s numerous animals, perhaps the most well-known are the llamas, which she brings inside the Pickle Factory in Nisswa every year, both after the Fourth of July parade and during the Nisswa Jubilee. She brings one of her llamas into the Pickle through the off-sale door, around the back side of the bar, through the pool table room and out onto the deck.
The tradition has been going strong since 1990- more than 25 years. Four llamas in all have taken their turn making the visit. She started with Willow, then Hershey, followed by Missy, and today the visits are made by Popeye. People ask her why she has a llama, and why she brings it to the bar.
“If you own a Cadillac or a Lincoln, you’re somebody, and I have a couple of llamas, so I’m really somebody!” Bobbie said with a laugh. Anyone who meets Popeye tends to agree.
Everyone loves to get their photo taken with the llama, and occasionally the llamas will surprise someone when it puts its face next to that of an unsuspecting customer.
“I don’t think we’ve caused any heart attacks yet,” Bobbie said with a laugh. “Probably pretty close.”
Indeed, when Bobbie (or a visitor) comes to see the llamas, the llamas come running, getting up close and personal. The llamas don’t seem to mind having their faces just inches away from a human’s face. But don’t worry, they’re friendly.
Last February, Bobbie was fighting bronchitis when the Nisswa Jubilee was coming around. Everybody tells everybody there’s going to be a llama in the Pickle, Bobbie said, and she didn’t want to let them down. Despite her illness she loaded up Popeye and hit the road.
“I walked him in and the whole place erupted into cheers,” she said. She and Popeye were in the bar for more than an hour. One recently-engaged couple got their photo taken with Popeye, which they planned to submit to the Star Tribune as their engagement photo.
“People just get a kick out of it. And it makes me feel good too,” Bobbie said.
In all the years of Bobbie’s tradition of bringing animals to the Pickle, the animals have only had one “accident” that needed to be cleaned up. And Bobbie has only missed one visit, when the Fourth of July celebrations were simply too hot and humid for the llama.
Bobbie’s two llamas have a lot of company on her ranch. They live with five Tennessee walking horses, two mini burros, three mini horses, eight dogs of assorted sizes (that friendly welcoming committee), five cats (plus four kittens!), several roosters and a flock of guinea hens.
Bobbie has taken or purchased many animals from those who could no longer care for them or which have experienced some trauma. She takes a patient approach to caring for the animals.
“I don’t push myself on them,” Bobbie said. “I let them figure it out themselves.” She has several stories of animals, whether horses, dogs or others, who didn’t want to be touched at all when they arrived at her ranch, but have come around to being affectionate, happy animals.
Achen’ Ass Acres got its name one day after Bobbie and her former husband got home from a long trail ride. He came in, sat down, and said “Ow, my achen’ ass!”
“I said that’s the name of our ranch!” Bobbie recalls. From then on, that’s when she and her happy animals have made a home- when they’re not visiting the Pickle.
If you’d like to meet Bobbie and Popeye the llama, watch for her at the Pickle Factory in Nisswa just after the Fourth of July parade Sunday, July 3. The parade begins at 7 p.m.

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Lady

6/15/2016

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By Doug Taylor
Publisher
Based on a true a experience here in the Lakes Area

I opened the gate, looked out, and didn’t see my cow. As I walked through the gate I could feel the soft ground, turned up by cow hoofs. I carefully avoided the fresh cow pies. Her name was Lady. Ya, strange, my best friend was a cow. I even thought more of her than Roscoe, the family dog. I had him stay in the barn when I would see lady because he was a heeler and they had a love-hate relationship.

Lady was about three. A beautiful Texas Longhorn that came early, she lost her mom. She almost died, but I took care of her. Her ma, like my own, had been very sick. Dad found her all cuddled up and all alone. She was small so Dad picked her up, brought her to the barn and... I guess It was love at first sight. My brothers all had horses and me a pony. But for some reason there was something special about this cow. I felt for her right in my heart. I knew what it was like to lose my mom and in some way she filled something up in me. She looked at me, I looked at her. Maybe she thought I was her mom. I didn’t care and I looked after her.

My older brothers call me Little Sammy and they teased me for having a pet cow. I didn’t care! She was the best friend I ever had. It was Little Sam and Lady. Lady was tame; I rode her or she would follow me everywhere. We would go for walks in the woods, fishing off the shore and I even rode her double with my neighbor Annie from time to time.

It was strange this morning, for Lady was missing. She always waited for me. I just had to find her!
Dad was gone to town and my brothers were out working, so although I was not supposed to I walked down the hill towards the herd. I figured it would be alright. I walked down the hill and yelled for her.

“Lady!”

I walked through the woods, yelled for Lady and suddenly I heard the ground shake! It was the bull, Geronimo! I turned and ran as fast as I could. In seconds he was almost on me. I screamed! I knew Geronimo was mean and he protected the herd- he was only doing his job.   Geronimo was a killer. He would go after wolves, bears, anything that came near the herd. I should have known! His head was down, it was all over for me!

I was side blasted. I fell, fading into darkness. When I awoke, coughing, I could taste dirt and had a mouth full of it. It was dark now, my head hurt, and something was licking me. It was Lady! She was hurt! She had protected me from the bull. I was dizzy. Lady had blood on her nose and she was breathing funny.

I could smell the dirt. We were both laying in it, both hurt but together. Like back when we had lost our moms. I didn’t leave her. I held her and I began to cry. In a while I heard one of my brothers and could see a lantern. I yelled, “Over here! Lady is hurt!”

My brother told me her ribs had been broken, she couldn’t breathe and she had little time left.   I held her and told my brother what happened, and that I wouldn’t t leave. My brother stayed with me and this time he didn’t tease me. I noticed he also had tears on his cheek.

I put Lady’s head in my lap and I talked to her, saying all the kind words I knew. I also said I was sorry and I thanked her. My brother picked me up and carried me to the house, and he said he was sorry for teasing me. That he didn’t realize what that danged old cow meant to me. Lady died that night; she had given her life for me.

We all, my dad and brothers, buried her up on the hill. It was almost as if mom was there too.

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Scarlet Tanagers

6/13/2016

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By Judd Brink
MN Backyard Birds

One of the most colorful songbirds to see in the summer is the scarlet tanager (Piranga olivacea). This tropical bird migrates from Central and South America each spring to our neck of the woods. This is a bird that is often associated with mature oak forest of central Minnesota, and needs large tracts of continuous habitat. The scarlet tanager is a canopy bird so seeing the flashes of red and black can be difficult high up in trees, but its short call note “chick-burr” indicates its presence. Let’s learn more about this tropical migrant that visits our area each year.

The Scarlet Tanager is seven inches tall and is the smallest of 4 species of Tanagers found in the United States. (The other tanagers include the summer tanager, western tanager and hepatic tanager). The male in spring plumage is almost neon red with jet black wings, with the female olive green with dark wings. No other songbird has this dramatic contrast like the Scarlet Tanager. During migration this bird may visit bird feeders, but other than that its habitat is strictly mature oak/pine forest where large contiguous tracts exist.

The bird’s diet mainly consists of insects found high in the oak/pine canopy. Occasionally it can be seen “fly-catching” for small insects. Also, the scarlet tanager eats some summer fruits when available, such as cherry and native fruiting trees or shrubs found within its range. These colorful birds can also be attracted to your backyard with orange halves, suet cakes, seed and mealworms. Their winter diet in the tropics might include more fruit and fewer insects.

Tanagers, warblers and vireos are in a group of birds known as neotropical migrants birds that winter in Central and South America but migrate to the U.S. to nest. Scarlet tanagers arrive in our area around the second week in May and are generally gone by the end of September. Their wintering area is not well known, perhaps spending time in the large coffee plantations. While birding in Costa Rica in 1993 we did see many tanagers. Many of our long distance migrants encounter deadly obstacles and hazards during their journeys. Each year millions of birds die from hitting window glass from residential homes and commercial buildings along with other structures.

Fragmentation occurs when a large tract of habitat becomes broken up into smaller pieces. Some examples include agriculture and urban development. In the past large scale logging operations called “clear-cuts” created a patchwork of forest types over the landscape. Today most of the fragmentation is occurring at a rapid pace due to the need of development. Many bird conservation organizations are concerned with the amount and rate that the habitat is getting converted into other uses. A large concern is the considerable loss of habitat found on their wintering grounds where large scale clear cuts occur frequently, especially for cattle and coffee. Unfortunately this bird is highly susceptible to brood parasitism in smaller fragmented forests by the Brown-headed Cowbird (Molothrus ater). A female cowbird will find nests of tanagers, warblers and vireos to lay its eggs in, leaving the host parent to raise and care for its young. In most cases the cowbird chick hatches first and is quite bigger so it simply out competes the host young for food. Studies show in smaller tracts that brood parasitism is at about 70 percent. Look for coffee labeled “bird friendly” or “shade grown” to help conserve our birds.

Your first sighting of a scarlet tanager will last a lifetime. I still remember the one I saw in Costa Rica. Look for this tropical bird during the spring migration and listen for the call note “chip-burr.” Maybe entice the birds to your backyard with a piece of fruit like an orange half; you might be in for a special treat to have one visit your feeder. The Northland Arboretum in Brainerd is a good place to look for them as they do nest in this Important Bird Area(IBA). Happy Birding!

Judd Brink is the owner of MN Backyard Birds in the Brainerd Lakes area. MN Backyard Birds provides birdscaping for homeowners and businesses to attract and enjoy more colorful songbirds. The business was recently featured on Kare 11 news with Belinda Jensen and MN Bound with Ron Schara. For more information about birdscaping or a free backyard consultation visit our new website birdminnesota.com or email us at info@birdminnesota.com