Category Archives: Norwegian

You Can’t Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd

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“Ole,” I yelled from the back of the bike.  “What in heaven’s name (I used different words but won’t print them here) are you doing?” as I grabbed onto him for security.  He was weaving back and forth on the road dodging piles of buffalo poop.  Obviously, there had been a recent crossing of a good-sized herd of buffalo and I think every one of them had left a large deposit on the asphalt.  Believe me, you don’t want to drive through one of those piles because 1) they’re large, 2) they’re slippery, and 3) they STINK!  So as a result that old Roger Miller song came to mind, You Can’t Roller Skate in a Buffalo Herd, and you shouldn’t be driving a motorcycle through one either.  That was a couple of days ago, and I still can’t get that darn song out of my head!

We arrived in Medora on Sunday evening, and after setting up camp we took a spin through the park.  Apparently life has been very good for the buffalo herd as it seems to have become quite prolific over the last year.  There were buffalo ALL OVER.  We didn’t see much else other than prairie dogs and a few wild horses.  Sorry, Gang, no pictures on this leg of the trip as over the years I’ve taken so many pictures of the wildlife in the Badlands I certainly don’t need any more. 

You see, I have a looooong history with Medora and the Badlands.  Ole and I make it a mandatory stop every year on our way home from Sturgis and wherever else we decide to go after Sturgis.  It’s always nice to kind of wind down with some easy rides in a place you know well and are comfortable in.  We don’t do the musical anymore and we don’t do the shopping thing – just the scenery thing – and never get tired of it. 

I remember very vividly the first time I ever saw the Badlands.  I was a little girl of about 4 or 5.  As I’ve written in previous blogs I grew up as “trailer trash” http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/03/27/life-as-a-gypsy/  (please no one take offense if you live in a mobile home, it’s just an expression) and lived the life of a “gypsy.”  (Here again, please don’t attack me for being a racist.  Those of you who’ve read me for a while know about my run-in with a college student a while back because I used the term gypsy.)  http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/03/29/life-as-a-gypsy-part-2/ (Make sure yo read the “comments” on this post).   My father was a road construction worker and we moved about following the work.  We were in the process of moving from one location to another and the Badlands just happened to be on the way.  My father, who loved to travel and explore new areas, decided to drive through the Badlands instead of around them.  He had a 1953 Hudson Hornet at that time, a large heavy car, and was pulling our house with it, an 8 x 32 foot trailer house.  The road through the Badlands at that time was very narrow and covered with scoria, a red rock that’s found in the area.  My mother was terrified as he pulled this trailer house around all the curves, up and down the hills, and hung onto the passenger door handle with her right hand and the edge of the front seat with her left.  She would gasp for breath each time we made a turn around a sharp curve.  Me?  I just placed myself on the floor of the backseat and hid my head under a blanket so I wouldn’t have to look, although curiosity got the best of me periodically and I peaked.  Times are different now – the road is wider and asphalted, although the curves haven’t been straightened out.  But that just makes it all the more fun on a Harley. 

Following our ride we decided to stop at the Little Missouri Saloon for a toddy and possibly some summer.  Two drinks came to $15.50 – WOW!  I guess we won’t do that again.  I think they’re charging New York prices or something.  Dinner was delicious – $45 for 2 burgers, one with onion rings and one with hash browns.  We decided that the next day we would eat what we had in our fridge in the RV. 

We spent Monday dawdling around town taking in a few of the tourist traps – I’m not much of a shopper but went looking for some polished agates.  Medora used to be full of stores that had polished rocks for sale, but none to be found this time around.  The shops seem to be catering to a classier type of clientele than me and carry lost of high end clothing and household goods.  The town is full of specialty stores and sadly, I only found one good old “junk” shop that had the old cheapo tourist falderol.  But of course, no polished agates.  Oh, well.

We’ve really suffered this leg of the trip – no satellite TV!!  Our camp site had several large cottonwood branches hanging in just the right location so we couldn’t get a signal.  We had to tough it out and listen to the satellite radio – one of my favorite stations carries all the old radio shows back from the 40s and 50s – My Friend Irma, Fibber Magee and Mollie, Life of Riley – I’m sure a lot of you folks don’t remember them.  But I grew up with them (so did YOU Burl, so no remarks about age, okay?) and still really enjoy them. 

We’re on the road home this morning.  Ole promised Daisy that she would be able to sleep in her own bed tonight – she showed all those big fangs and smiled!!

That’s all until next time.

Love, Lena

I’D BUTCHER THAT DAMN ROOSTER IN A HEARTBEAT!

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We made it to Faith, SD last night – after an extremely rough ride for the last 70 miles.  Both Ole and I have now had our practice for riding bucking broncos so we can enter  the next rodeo we come across.  (I know there’s a bull at the Full  Throttle Saloon – but they only let topless women ride that  and I’m not up for that – sorry.)  The road between Lemmon, SD and Faith is so rough and so narrow  you’re truly taking your life in your hands when you travel on it.  And in addition, this time there was a ton of road construction – maybe SD finally realized they needed to do something about that highway. 

Anyway, I always go through the rig from front to back and make sure that all the “hatches are battened down” and locked up securely.  I really hate to have things flying around while we’re traveling down the road.  Things have a tendency to break when that happens and besides that it scares the livin’ tar out of the cats.  Poor Simon got hit on the head with a small candle that went flying off the table.  And this poor cat is blind so doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.  At least Lucy can duck and cover when things get wild.  This trip the road was so rough that not only did some of the cupboards come flying open, but the bumps even blew out part of our electrical system.  The rearview camera quit, Ole couldn’t get his power window up or down, the dash fan quit working – well, you get the idea.  After we “landed” Ole trouble shot things and informed me that things had come loose under the dash and the problem was fixable once we got to Sturgis and could get parts.  Obviously there were no “parts” available in Faith as that town rolls up its sidewalks at five o’clock.

We always spend the night at the city park in Faith.  It’s a nice little park on the edge of town with big trees for shade, lots of room to run Daisy, and it’s fairly quiet – except for last night.  There is a small farm/ranch site located about a quarter of a mile from the park.  Obviously, they have chickens – or at least they definitely have a rooster.  With his attitude he’s probably driven all the hens away – just sayin’ is all.  Someone forgot to instruct him in the difference between day and night – light and dark.  This feathered monstrosity started crowing at MIDNIGHT last night and let loose every three minutes until the sun came up this morning.   Apparently his owners are so used to him they don’t even hear him anymore.  That stringy old geezer would be in my stew pot so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him.  I’d choke his last crow right out of his scrawny old neck.  Just remember – if you come to stay at my  house – DON’T CROW!!. 

Other casualties/issues of the day:  We finally got the satellite receiver working after having a service call from Direct TV.  Fortunately when I contracted with Direct TV I bought a maintenance contract so this was all on their dime.  Then we blew a fitting in the water system – when Ole was loading water on it was running out as fast as he was putting it in.  Unfortunately, the leak was INSIDE the coach – not outside so I had a lot of water to mop up and carpet to dry out.  Then – as Ole was hooking up the motorcycle trailer and we were just ready to pull out of the yard I noticed a hissing noise coming from just behind the right front wheels.  This was extremely distressing as we had just spent $1500 on new tires all around and I couldn’t imagine why we’d be having tire problems.  After close inspection Ole discovered a leaking air line.  This RV has air suspension – so keeping the air INSIDE the line is kind of important.  An easily fixable problem as long as we were at home and not on the road.  So after numerous trips back and forth from the RV to the shop, Ole had it fixed and we were on the road. 

All went well until Ole decided to turn on the in-dash a/c.  Last fall we had to have the compressor and a few other parts on the A/C replaced.  More $$$.  Everything worked fine.  So this is the first time we’ve used the rig this summer because we’ve been so busy.  So Ole flipped the switch, pushed the button and what do we get?  Hot air.  So we ended up just driving down the road with the windows open.  By this time we’re both getting a bit frustrated – but what do you do. Ole has the stuff along to fix it, but didn’t have the correct fitting.  Once again – wait until we get to a hardware store in Sturgis – as the one in Faith had locked the door and pulled the shades at 5 o’clock. 

We’re currently driving through a wide spot in the road called Mud Butte.  Real exciting town that consists of one gas station/post office.  This is the last leg of our journey for today and we should be seeing Bear Butte shortly – that’s just outside of Sturgis.  Hopefully we won’t have any more fiascos, but fortunately those we have had so far have been easily fixable and just inconveniences. 

Stay tuned for the saga – (I’ll just have to teach you more Norwegian words.)

Love, Lena

 

HEAD ‘EM UP AND MOVE ‘EM OUT

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Yup – it’s that time of year again – time to pack ‘em up and head ‘em out.  We’re loaded and ready to move on down the road effective Wednesday morning.  Not necessarily bright and early as you know retired people don’t always move that fast.  There are necessities that need to take place first – drinking a pot or two of coffee, a bit of breakfast, and attendance in the “reading room” – that’s where all the magazines get read, you know.  I keep telling Ole that’s his library – he just scoffs at me.  Oh, well, some people are all about routine, you know.

Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you just exactly where we’re going – duh!  It’s the annual trip to Sturgis and the Blackhills Motorcycle Rally.  Ole has missed only one year of attending since 1986.  He USED TO BE really hard core and would ride the bike down and back.  In his later years (snicker) he became more sane and decided to trailer the Harley.  I didn’t start riding with Ole until our Lovely Daughter graduated from high school (1994) and haven’t missed a year since. 

We meet up with long-time friends every year as we all reserve the same spots so we have our own little Sturgis Village.  It’s like “Old Home” week, and always a lot of fun.

Now I really need to tell you about how I got involved in all of this.  Ole had asked me for numerous years to go to Sturgis with him and I always refused.  After all, all I had to judge the whole shebang by was the pictures of all the weirdoes that he brought home.   I didn’t think there was any reason for me to go that far to see all these strange folks that liked to exploit themselves. all the troublemakers and gangs, etc.  Just didn’t want any part of it.  Finally, just to appease him, I agreed to go, but put a number of stipulations on the trip.

First of all, I would not ride on the back of the bike all the way to Sturgis – that’s only 650 miles, but farther than I wanted to go and get wind/sun burned.  Second – under no circumstances would I sleep in a tent.  The weather down there is just to “iffy” and I definitely wanted a roof over my head should a storm blow up, which it does frequently.  Thought I had him there – as hotel rooms are usually rented a year in advance.  Third – there was no way I was going to wear all that BLACK leather that you saw all the bikers wearing.  I wanted something different - like maybe RED!  No problem, he said.  There’s all kinds of leather for sale down there and we’ll buy it when we get there (smirk).

He got me on all three counts.  First of all he made arrangements to go with a friend who had a pickup.  So we loaded both bikes in the back of his truck.  Okay – No. 1 down.  Thought I had him on No. 2 as he wouldn’t be able to get a hotel room at this late date.  WRONG!  Friend had a hotel room and offered to share it with us.  Got me there.  Darn.

So we arrive in Lead, SD after a 10-hour trip, check into the hotel room and go downtown to the leather vendors in search of something other than black leathers.  Now keep in mind that this was back in 1994 – 18 years ago.  Things were just a bit different back then than they are now.  Besides the fact that red leather only came in a size 4 or smaller, the only people who wore red leather were the HOOKERS!  And it was quite evident at that.  Needless to say I quickly changed my mind and ended up with black leathers with brown suede trim.

Since then I’ve found out there are a lot of reasons for BLACK leather – No. 1 is that it doesn’t show the bug splats quite as much as colored leather.  And it’s usually made of a heavier grade of leather which can withstand a lot more abuse should you lay the bike down and succumb to a bit of road rash if not worse.

So the “saga” (that’s Norwegian for story) shall continue.  If you’re interested, stay tuned, otherwise just delete the entry when it shows up on your email.

Love to you all,

Lena

 

 

LOOK OUT FOR THE GOOSE POOP BOMBS!!

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“INCOMING,” yelled Ole the other day as I walked across the driveway.  I quickly looked up, took several very rapid steps to the side and avoided a goose poop bomblet.  We’re directly in the flight path of the local Canadian honkers as they take off from the sugar beet settling ponds located directly west of us several miles.  And these honkers are so well fed it takes them a couple of miles to gain any altitude, so when they fly over our house they’re usually flying pretty low.  One evening, as they were returning from their daily foraging, Ole came running in the house yelling something about getting a tennis racket to take down a goose – they were flying that low.

Anyway, to catch you up on the Adventures of Ole and Lena - the last time I wrote (a century or two ago) we were still living like the Bumpuses, still wading through a confusion of “stuff,” not being able to find anything, knowing we had it, and having to go out and buy it again.  No wonder we accumulate so much “stuff.”  Anyway, things are gradually getting sorted out and hopefully by the end of next week we can make some enormous progress.  You see, we’ve got a bunch of Finlanders in our backyard from Sebeka, MN, and they’re building Ole his life long dream – a metal storage building that is 40′ x 80′ with 14′ sidewalls.

The poor guys have been battling hurricane force winds since they started and have had to add extra bracing to get things to stand and stay where they belong.  Their goal was to set the rafters today.  They managed to get one set and decided it was too dangerous with the wind blowing like it was.  So they called it quits about noon and intend to be back late this afternoon or early evening if the wind goes down.

Living at our old property was like living in Shangrila – we had such a thick forest of huge evergreen trees that we just never felt the wind.  Our new property had no windbreak whatsoever.  So when the winds would blow from the north and the west, which they’ve done in excess this spring, it seemed like we were going to blow off the face of the Earth.  The key word here is “HAD no windbreak.”  We have one now – although it will have to grow just a bit to catch up to what we had previously.

 

    

We hired a tree mover and moved four 14-20 footers into the west side of the property after we had “deleted” some ash trees.  Then we purchased eight 7-footers and placed on the north edge in front of some scrappy caraganas that are going to eventually come out.

Then Ole decided he wanted the orchard he had started a number of years ago on our old property so two large plum trees and three apple trees made the trek in the tree mover up to Moorhead.  Along with them came a hybrid lilac that I loved and a mushroom-shaped blue spruce that I had lovingly cared for since it was just a baby.

I’ve been breaking my neck on the landscaping.  I don’t think the folks that lived here before knew anything about spraying weeds/dandelions or fertilizing the grass.  The lawn is in horrible shape and I think it will take more than one summer to revive it.  I’ve sprayed weeds twice, but those puppies are really tough this year.  I think it’s because we haven’t had any rain so they’re not absorbing the chemicals very well and are slow to die.  But I’m workin’ on it every day.

Then there’s the flowerbeds.  This one is on the west side of the property and I call it my ROCK garden – I’ll tell you why in a minute.  When we looked at the property the lady of the house had two half wooden barrels situated in the flowerbed filled with geraniums, along with a couple of volunteer trees.  The bed was covered with landscape fabric which was then covered with wood chips.  I had intended to move a lot of my flowers from our old property and thought this would be a good place to put some.  So one day I decided to overhaul this flowerbed.  After all, it was only about 6′ x 20′ – not big compared to the ones I’d had at our old house.  I pulled up all the fabric, scraped up all the wood chips and noted that in one corner there were a couple of rather large rocks, not quite as big as bowling balls.  No big deal, I’d just dig them out, till up the flowerbed, add a few amendments and plant away.  NOT!  It didn’t take long and I realized I would have to have Ole’s help to accomplish this task.  Two-thirds of the bed had been filled with rocks from golf ball size to bowling ball size, and various other pieces of concrete and trash, then covered over with black dirt, fabric and woodchips.  It took Ole and me most of a day to dig out all the debris and haul away two large wheelbarrows full.  Hopefully by midsummer things will have filled in and it will look good for all the sweat we put into it.

Then there’s this poor little corner pictured below.  The previous owner had left behind chunks of old carpet, a pile of old shingles, pieces of rebar and other junk along with the remains of weeds that were shoulder high.  The well head is under the cream can so it was an impossible location to get into with the lawnmower.  So I decided rather than fight all of that I would dig it up and put some bushes and other things in it.  There will have to be some grass seeded in front of it, but one thing at a time.  Right now I have to keep these things growing along with watering all the newly planted trees.

Below is the flowerbed that’s in front of the house.  This one wasn’t a problem, thankfully, so I just dug it up and put my stuff in it.  The one thing I saved is the clematis that’s in the center of the picture.  It’s huge and it’s not even June yet.  I’m sure it’s very old and loves the location as it faces south and gets all the reflected heat from all the concrete in front of the flowerbed.

Below is the front porch.  I’ve still got work to do in the flowerbed that’s off to the left side of the picture.

At the corner of the house I planted a weeping pussy willow with a periwinkle groundcover under it.  Hopefully that will all fill in too.

There are two small semi-circle flowerbeds in front of the porch that I’ve put some sun loving plants in.  Note the tennis ball that Daisy has lovingly planted among my flowers.  Anybody that knows Daisy knows that she cares for her tennis balls as though they were her puppies.

Here’s one of my “finds” this spring.  I vividly remember my mother using a set up like this when she would do her laundry every Monday morning.  I was lucky and picked these up for a song when after checking on Ebay they were selling for upwards of $150.

Well, Folks, that will clue you in as to why I haven’t written much lately.  Ole and I have hardly had time to breathe let alone go to the bathroom!!  Things are going to get better!!

Love, Lena

 

Life at the Bumpuses

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I’m sure you remember the fantastic movie the Christmas Story that came out a number of years ago?  The Leg Lamp?  Who could forget the leg lamp!!  And where Ralphie and his family lived next door to a family of hillbillies named the Bumpuses that had hounds that came charging into the kitchen and ate the wonderful/beautiful Christmas dinner that was prepared by Ralphie’s Mom.  So the poor family had to resort to eating at a Chinese restaurant on Christmas Day?  You do remember this movie, right?  Ralphie got the wonderful set of pink bunny pajamas with feet in them from his Great Aunt as a Christmas gift and his parents MADE him model them?  Greatest movie ever made and it has become a ritual at our house on Christmas Day.  You HAVE to watch the Christmas Story, and I think we laugh harder every year.

Well – - now I must admit – - Ole and I are living our very own Christmas Story – only I think we’re the Bumpuses – not Ralphie’s family.  Every time I drive in our driveway and look at our front yard I cringe because it’s really starting to look like the Bumpus’ front yard – we even have one hound to make things legit!!  (Only she’s really a German Shepherd, not a hound dawg!)

I expect the neighbors to start complaining any day now – oh – wait – they won’t dare to complain as they run a construction company and have all kind of heavy equipment, huge concrete pipes and other do-dads in their Back Forty.  Okay – not to worry.

Our yard (front AND back) isn’t QUITE as bad as the picture above – but it’s getting darn close.  We’re actually making progress in getting things sorted out in both the garage and Ole’s office/shop.  The biggest hinderance right now is that we desperately need another building to put things in so that we can organize the remainder of the “stuff” that will stay in the garage and Ole’s shop.  Ole’s busy getting quotes on 40×80 buildings that will be tall enough to store the motorhome in – and each time we get a quote I think we gasp and darn near choke.  But it’s got to be done – so spend those bucks and get it over with.

Let me say this and then I’ll drop this issue – it will certainly be nice to get my car back into the garage.  My poor vehicle has had to sit outside all winter and get rained on and snowed on.  I can’t remember the last time I had to leave my vehicle outside in the winter – but fortunately this winter was very mild for a Minnesota winter.  So we survived!

And then there’s the ATTACK ON THE NIGHTCRAWLERS!  Remember, I stated in a previous entry that I was going to declare war on the nightcrawlers because the lawn is so bumpy you could break your ankle trying to walk across it.  So today I spent over $100 on chemicals that are supposed to at least REDUCE the population.  I spent all afternoon spreading the “killer beads” so next time it rains we’ll see if it works or not.  If anybody out there has a sure solution to get rid of these critters I would appreciate your input.  Walking in our yard is like trying to walk on marbles – you never know which way your ankle is going to turn.  Bad.

So what are you all doing for Easter?  I’m cooking and we’re having some of our favorite people over (Lovely Daughter and her husband, Lars).  They are both working two jobs at this point, so it’s kind of nice to be able to give them a bit of relief and cook for them.

Here’s hoping you all have a wonderful Easter.  God Bless You All.

Love, Lena

 

 

Rooster Juice

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I am definately NOT a “druggie.”  In fact I have a hard time to take an advil or something comparable even for a headache.  The “pushers” would have  a hard time making any profits from me.  Have you ever had a pill get stuck in your throat?  I have – and it sits there and sits there and it’s a horrible feeling.  And when you end up having to go to the ER to have it dislodged, it’s even worse.  So – take my word for it, it’s something you dont’ want to have happen.

I also have a great fear  of shots.  Anytime you think you’re going to poke a needle in my arm you better have a damn good reason or I’ll come out fighting.  Got that?!?

Well, today I had my second ROOSTER JUICE shot.  It’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me – along with the doctor that gives them to me, of course.  Let me explain.

To begin with – just so you know – the needle for this shot has to be as big around as a piece of spaghettie (not small) – and the syringe must hold at least a half a gallon of liquid!  Just sayin’ is all  ! ! ! !

Way back in the dark ages (shut up Burl) when I was of the ripe old age of about 35 I went riding in a hot air balloon – on Easter Sunday.  It was one of those springs that was absolutely beautiful for Minnesota.  Warm and sunny and perfect.  Kind of like we’re having this year – which doesn’t happen but once every 20+ years.  I really didn’t want to go up for the ride, I would rather have been in the  chase car, but somewhere along the line I got talked into riding in the balloon and have regretted it ever since.

The owner/operator of the hot air balloon was not a nice man – at least that’s my opinion of him.  Once my friend and I were up in the air with him he decided he was going to scare us royaly, which he did to the last inth degree of possibility.  He flew it through the tree tops to the point of making my friend and me defend ourselves against the tree branches that would have poked us in the eyes had we not held them away from our faces.  He flew us toward the high voltage power lines until just before we could touch them and then shot enough hot air into the balloon to prevent us from catching them.  I could go on, but you get the idea.

Eventually when it was time to put the balloon down he decided to land in an open field, but bounced across the stubble, caught the side of a township road, bounced the basket very high at which point I was thrown into a padded propane tank hard enough that it broke my kneecap into three pieces.

I knew instantly that I was hurt.  Hubby Ole and Lovely Daughter were in the chase truck, and they tossed me into the back of the truck and took me the 15 miles into town to the ER where an orthopedic surgeon performed emergency surgery on Easter Sunday to wire me back together. Mind you, this was back in the dark ages.  I had my leg in a plaster cast from my ankle to my hip for 6 weeks.  At the end of 6 weeks the ortho doc cut the cast off and sent me home – NO physical therapy of any kind.  Needless to say, about 2 years later I started having major problems.

Through the years I have subjected myself to every physical therapy program available within the city limits to no avail.  Needless to say this has cost thousands of dollars, and all for nothing.   UNTIL about 2 years ago I discovered the most wonderful ortho doctor that pointed me in the direction of ROOSTER JUICE!!

Now, if you haven’t heard of ROOSTER JUICE, you’re really missing out on something.  It’s made from the combs of roosters and is injected as a lubricant into joints of the human body that are not behaving well.  I became aware of it about 10 years ago, but at that time decided not to go that route because it was so new.  Now I could write a bible about it.

The technical name is actually SYNVISC, and if you have a need and haven’t at least given it a shot (pun intended) you’re really missing out.  It’s made such a world of difference in my life it’s unexplanable.

I had so much pain back in November of 2010 that I could hardly walk.  After having x-rays in my knee it was discovered that it was bone on bone and the doc that examined me said he was amazed that I could even walk.  He told me that it was not a question of IF I would have a knee replacement, it was WHEN I would have one.

When he suggested it, it was just not a convenient time.  By that time I was so used to living with pain that it really didn’t matter any more.  So to bide my time until a knee replacement was convenient for my time schedule I opted for a ROOSTER JUICE shot.

The syringe was huge.  Just to look at it almost scared me to the point of not having it at all – but I did.  I made Ole go along with me for moral support.  That Ole – he’s good for all kinds of things.

So my first one was back in November of 2010.  Mind you – these shots are only supposed to be good for 6 months.  Everything went wonderfully until the time we started to move back in November of 2011.  That’s when I started carrying heavy boxes loaded with “stuff” that needed to find a new home.  And that’ when my knee started driving me crazy again.

So I toughed it out until about 2 weeks ago when I just couldn’t stand it anymore.  When I finally realized what a dumb stubborn Norwegian I was being, I called and made an appointment with the wonderful ortho doc that I have.

Today I had my second SYNVISC shot and my knee is feeling wonderful.  I realize that I’m one of the lucky ones as this doesn’t work as well for everyone.  But I thank my lucky stars that I am one of those lucky ones and appreciate every waking/walking moment without pain.

Love, Lena

 

You Could Grow Potatoes in your Ears!!

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I so very distinctly remember when I was little (back in the dark ages) (quiet, Burl), after taking a bath my mother would give us kids an inspection to see if we were successful in removing all the dirt.  She would check the hands, both sides, you know, fingernails, feet, the back of your neck and would work her way finally to your ears.  I can still hear her say, “Oh, my goodness, you could grow potatoes in those ears – go wash them again!”  And so we would – but do you remember how difficult it was to fit a finger wrapped in a washcloth into your ear?  It didn’t always work – and we didn’t have Q-tips back in those days – at least not at our house.

This brings me to the fact that I have been ill – yes, sick.  I’ve got a very bad case of spring fever.  Which would explain why I was stupid enough to go outside and work in the hurricane force winds that we’ve had here for the last two days.  Our temperatures have been in the 70s, which is unheard of in Minnesota in March.  That explains the spring fever, right?

Yesterday I decided that I was going to clean up all the dog logs that have been deposited in our front yard over the winter.  So Ole gassed up the trusty green machine (that’s John Deere for you non-farming folks).  I carefully placed the bags in their proper places, hopped on, lowered the blades, engaged the mower and immediately proceeded to get a face full of dust and grass clippings.  There were a few leaks in the system that would have been fine if we hadn’t had 90 mph breezes blowing about.  Well, back to Ole I went with my complaints and he immediately fixed the problem with – you guessed it – duct tape – the wonder tool of the 21st century.

Well, that worked for awhile until I got into a really bumpy section of lawn.  I started hitting all these little mounds, kind of like trying to ride the lawnmower on a washboard.  That’s when I discovered that I have an extremely large infestation of (playing the theme song from Jaws here)  NIGHTCRAWLERS!  All the bumps caused the chute that goes from the mower deck to the bags to come undone and this time I got a full load of dust and grass clippings in my face.  Off the mower, reassemble the chute, back on the mower, make a round or two, hit more bumps and another face full of dust and grass clippings.

Now any normal person would quit – but I’m stubborn enough (or stupid enough) to continue on until the job was done.  Three hours of dirt and grass clippings blowing about was quite a challenge.  I finished up about 5 o’clock, drove over to park the mower and who should come walking by but Ole of course.  He took one look at me and burst out laughing.  My face was covered with gray dust, my “beautiful platinum (gray) hair” was even grayer and I was having difficulty hearing because of all the dirt in my ears.  A shower soon fixed that situation and I was done for the night. Even after a shower my eyes were still so full of dust I felt like I had a gravel pit in each of them.  I woke up several times during the night and used eye drops to help clean them out, but still had big goobers in the corners when I woke up this morning.

Now you would think I would have learned my lesson, wouldn’t you.  But no – not me.  Because of all the nighcrawlers (don’t forget to hum the Jaws theme here) I decided I was going to use the dethatcher attachment and see if that would knock down some of the lumps and bumps at least temporarily.  It seemed to help, but then I had to pick up all the thatch that I had managed to loosen.  So once again – every time I would go “with” the wind I would get a face full of clippings and dust.  But today I was smarter – I got a pair of goggles from Ole that would help to keep my eyes a bit more dust free.  To heck with the ears, I may not be able to hear you, but at least I would be able to see where I was driving.

Now these goggles must have been around for a few years.  They were encased in a thick layer of their own dust from laying for a lengthy time out in Ole’s shop.  So I took them in the house, washed them tenderly with soap and water and then dried them with a towel.  Ta-Dah – I could actually see through them.  Now someone with a very fat head must have been wearing these poor goggles as the elastic was so stretched out that it would have taken TWO of my heads to hold them in place.  Now – what to do.  I just couldn’t go through having granular eyes again.  So I cut the elastic and thought I would tie it in a bow behind my head.  Now trying to tie elastic at the back of your head has a tendency to get tangled with hair that will also end up in the bow.  You men wouldn’t know about that because most of you wear your hair short enough that there isn’t anything to get tangled.  The tying wasn’t so bad, but it was the UNtying that really hurt.  I think I have several chunks of platinum (gray) hair that are still attached to the elastic.

Anyway – I got over my case of spring feverl.  It took two days to do it, but I’m all better now, thank you.

Love, Lena

Blow It Up Your You-Know-Where!!

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“You are in contemp of the United States Trademark laws.  I am the ONLY person who has a current trademark on the words WINE LADY.  Nobody and no one is legally allowed to use those words as a website, in a website, in a business, etc.  I dare you to check the US Trademark section to confirm my claim!

You are hereby notified, this 4th day of February 2012, to cease and desist from using the term WINE LADY or any format of that name whatsoever.  Failure to do so will prompt an immediate lawsuit against you and your company.”

SO SUE ME!!

I received this comment regarding an entry I made previously in reference to a friend who had helped Ole make wine and pack up all his wine for moving.  Some folks just don’t have enough to do.  After doing a bit of research I found out that this woman’s name is Kathleen Adams and she’s from Oregon.  My suspicion is that she has trademarked a number of phrases and spends her time searching the internet for situations where the trademarked term is used and then threatens lawsuits.  Whether she follows through on them or not I don’t know.  But I guess this would be one way to make a few bucks.  Then again, maybe she gets her chuckles from intimidating innocent people.

I did check the trademark website, and she indeed has trademarked the term “wine lady.”  But after reading further into the rules and regs, I was in no way trying to promote or sell a product using this term – it was simply a reference to a friend and her assistance.  And Number Two – The Adventures of Ole and Lena is most definitely NOT a company in any way, shape or form.  God watch over the world if it was (chuckle).

Either I seem to have a knack for getting myself in trouble for what I write, or there are getting to be a lot of kooks out there that are looking for trouble.  If you remember a previous entry I wrote referencing “gypsies,” I was called on the carpet by some young college student who was backed up by her professor that I was being racist or some such dumb thing.  The comments on that entry got quite interesting and heated.  http://oleandlena.areavoices.com/2011/03/29/life-as-a-gypsy-part-2/

But like a true Norwegian, I refused to change my mind and most certainly didn’t change my blog.  And I don’t intend to this time either.

A couple of days ago I posted a picture on Facebook of a young man from what I assume was a Muslim country wearing a shirt that depicted the Twin Towers being hit and falling down.  Of course he was smiling and obviously someone had gone to a lot of trouble to produce this shirt, probably in large quantities, and sell it.

I made some remarks about “not forgetting” and being skeptical and untrusting of that particular religion because of their belief that the entire Christian community worldwide should be wiped out.  Instantly I was reprimanded by a very liberal ex-friend about what an uncompassionate person I am and that I really need to take the “hate” out of my life.  I could go on about that, but it’s just not worth it.

So now I’ve had my say, for whatever it’s worth, probably not much.  I’m tired of all the kooks and nut jobs in the world that are coming out of the woodwork, making all kinds of noise and influencing this country in the negative direction it’s going.  It’s time for the conscientious, intelligent thinkers to rise up and do something.  Unfortunately, I’m about ready to “hermitize” myself, move out to the far Back Woods and be one of those folks who meets you at the door with a shotgun when you drive up on my property.  If we hadn’t just bought a new house and I’m so busy “Lena-izing” it, I would just do that.

Love, Lena

Another Day Another Box

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Yah, Yah, Yah, I know I’ve been slacking on the job here.  But you know, when an old Norwegian gets tired, certain responsibilities have to go by the way side.  So – 50 lashes with a piece of lutefisk, (but take the bones out first, please).

I said to Ole the other day, as he came in to take his afternoon nap, “I think this moving stuff is made for a lot younger folks than us.  I’m pooped out.”  It used to be that Ole and I would get started doing “stuff” right away in the morning and go until late evening when it was time to go to bed.  And that bedtime was then at least midnight if not later.  Now Ole sits around until about 10 o’clock in the morning drinking coffee and reading the paper before he gets going.  And when supper is over and the kitchen cleaned up, I quit for the day.  No more of this late-thirty stuff for me.  So as a result this moving 40 years worth of life is taking a bit of time.

My friend “Skip” (from Iceland days) wrote in his Christmas card that he and his wife have invented a new game.  Here’s how you play:  You both sit down in your recliner after supper and see which one of you can stay awake the longest.  When I read that I told Ole that we were playing Skip’s game every night and didn’t even know it was a competition!!  Usually Ole loses – he’s “sawing logs” by the time I get the kitchen cleaned up.  Then he wakes up and it’s my turn (chuckle).  But I always wake up just in time to go to bed.

Anyway, my boxes don’t seem to be having quite as much sex over the last week.  At least they aren’t multiplying like rabbits anymore.  So I guess that’s progress.

Friend Kathy and Lovely Daughter have been helping me with all the painting.  Next on the list is the master bedroom (possibly this weekend.)  That’s when the whorehouse red wall is going to GO!  Ole says I should leave it because it “sets the mood.”  Yah, it makes me want to throw up vomit.  I don’t think that’s the mood he’s looking for!! Sorry Folks.

I hope all you Folks had a great Christmas and New Years.  Ours was quiet, but after all the other excitement, that’s just the way we wanted it.  Santa brought me a set of Natuzzi leather furniture for the TV room and a new flat screen TV to watch when I’m sitting on the leather furniture.  I thought that was pretty thoughtful of him.  I must have either been really good or he really liked the rosettes and krumkaka that I left him.  This year we even had a chimney for him to slide down – so he didn’t have to break in and risk Daisy biting him or anything.

I have to quit now and go unpack some more boxes.  Love you all,

Lena

PS:  Pictures are still forthcoming.

As Ole Snores Softly

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The end of another day.  We’ve had supper, Daisy has been fed and is stretched out on the heated floor that she loves so much and Ole is on the davenport snoring “softly” as I watch the roof go up and down with his inhales and exhales.   He’s been “at it” – loading and unloading since 9 o’clock this morning as have I.  This moving stuff is definitely made for younger people than Ole and me.  Thank heavens we have until the 20th of January to vacate our old property and be established in the new one.

Now I’ve got a real problem here.  I can’t fit everything into my new kitchen.  When I first looked at it I thought “What a beautiful arrngement!”  But I have since determined that I definitely had a lot more storage space in my old kitchen than I have in my new one.  I guess that just means I’ll have to do what I’ve been preaching to Ole for a number of years – DOWNSIZE!  But I just can’t give up that old baking pan that Aunt Bertha gave me even though I haven’t used it in 10 years, nor the cheese grater that we got from Aunt Martha for our wedding.  Those things are held “so dear” that I’m sure I would be insulting someone if I put them in the box that’s destined for the Boy’s Ranch.  Did I really say that?  Nope – into the donation box they go.  If I haven’t used “whatever” in over a year it’s time for it to find a new home.  Maybe I will fit into this kitchen yet, huh?

Today I went to the old house and packaged up all the stuff in the bathrooms.  Boy, was THAT interesting!  Not that I found “off color” interesting stuff (snicker), but I managed to throw away prescription drugs that were outdated back in 1996.  OMG – I could have started my own pharmacy!  Wonder if they were so old they wouldn’t work anymore or if they were so old they would have really packed a punch at this point!  I guess we’ll never know, huh?

And then there’s the fact that even though I paid a whole dollar to to the U.S. Post Office it’s been over a week since I changed my address.  To this point I haven’t received mail at either my old address or my new address.  I wonder what’s happened to all those Christmas cards I usually receive at this time of year?  They can keep the damn bills,  but I really do want the Christmas cards.  So I decided to stop at the post office and as I pulled up to try to find a parking spot I decided that this wasn’t really the day I wanted to check all this out.  The line of people holding huge and multiple packages was long enough that it stretched through the lobby and out the door onto the sidewalk.  It’s a good thing it was 40 degrees today because otherwise those people would have had a miserable wait.  So I just drove by and went on home.  I’ll try again tomorrow.  I hope all my mail will come out of Limbo Land and find its way to my house.

So here we are, at the end of another day, exhausted and feeling like we didn’t accomplish nearly enough.  Ole’s already got his feet up and as I said previously, snoring softly (yeah, right), and I’m about to join him.  And it’s only 8:30?  That’s what happens when you become older than the dirt under the pyraminds.  (No comments from the Peanut Gallery, Burl!!)

Love, Lena