I find myself arriving at a place where the only reality is what we as individuals with our singular vision or as members of a group with a shared vision come to accept as real. On the other hand, I know that if I slam my finger in the car door, it will hurt like hell, or like heaven, or like purgatory. Purgatory is probably the most apt descriptor, since I also know that the pain is temporary and that the injury will also heal. At least that is what my personal historical experience of such events have shown me.

Here are links to two recent reads:

http://www.frontporchrepublic.com/2013/12/possessive-individualism-can-really/

http://blog.kennypearce.net/archives/theology/bible/the_gospels/a_thought_for_christmas.html

Where does this leave us, when we are at my place? I guess it simply means that we--individually and collectively--have the choice to be nice to one another and the capacity to follow through on that choice. The capacities of individuals and groups--both large and small--vary greatly, but that doesn't let anyone off the hook--even part way--should they choose the path that circumnavigates this place.

The past few days I have been haunted by these and other recent reads and the desire to post a Christmas Holiday note. I don't know if I succeeded, but this is my effort.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
J. Keye

In the final quarter--a rough estimate--of my working career, I occasionally experienced some degree of regret over not having a fixed benefit retirement program in my future. The absence of such a vehicle for the ride into the great beyond was the result of working for employers, who did not have such an item in their fringe benefit package, and having a work career that coincided with significant changes in retirement plans. Now that I am enjoying the benefits of a personal retirement strategy coupled with Social Security, I can breathe a sigh of relief in what appears to be a greater sense of security in individual retirement plans than in fixed benefit plans found in private industry and governmental employment. It is not that what was less secure that has  now become more secure; it is what was more secure has become even less secure than that which was previously less secure.

A federal court decision in the case of Detroit, Michigan, underscores my point. The judge decided that federal bankruptcy laws override pension program rules, negotiated contractual terms, and state constitutional and legislative language which was intended to protect the integrity of these programs. I am sure this decision will be appealed, so the final chapter has not been written. In the meantime, folks relying on such retirement programs must find themselves experiencing a certain level of anxiety. There are enough units of government facing bankruptcy and reorganization that retirees of the City of Detroit will not be alone for long.

When AIG was facing bankruptcy, the Federal government decided they needed to step in and save this nongovernmental corporation and that the annual bonuses had to be paid to those managers, whose decisions were responsible for the impending failure of the firm, because bonuses were part of their employment contracts. The commentator that made that observation also asked: How are retirement contracts different? Are retirement contacts not employment contracts? The question that I ask is: How do we decide what is good for GM and AIG is not good for Detroit? Some will say that we can't afford to bail out Detroit. How is it that we are able to afford the estimated 32.9 billion dollars that it will cost to bail out AIG?

As the bankruptcy of the City of Detroit plays out over the next several years, I can assume the stance of a curious bystander. Any dog that I might have in the fight as Detroit and additional governmental units pursue similar resolutions to their financial problems will be a small dog reflecting my personal, diversified portfolio. I just need to make sure that I am not relying on a Bernie Madoff act-a-like to manage my nest egg.

This letter in today's "Dear Abby" column raises the question: Is this the ex-wife of Mr. Free Man of yesterday's column? Could very well be.

DEAR ABBY:

 

My mom insists on including my ex-husband and

his wife at our family gatherings. I have told her repeatedly that it
makes me very uncomfortable, but she even included them in
the gift exchange last Christmas. What should I do? Not go?
My sister has already laid a guilt trip on me. Must I go and
have Christmas with my ex like we’re one big happy family? (If
we had been happy, we would not have gotten divorced.)

What are your thoughts on this?

-- LIVING IN DYSFUNCTION JUNCTION

 

I'll bet the dude in question even violates Rule #2 of gift exchanging: Each exchange participate is to buy only one gift and that for the person, whose name one selects. There always seems to those folks, who agree to participate in the exchange and who violate this rule. This behavior leaves those, who are not the beneficiaries of secondary gifting, questioning why they did not make the secondary gifting list. Those, who are the beneficiaries, will question the motivation of the giver based on their current relationship and history with the giver.

 

The only thing worse that violating Rule #2 is violating Rule #3, which reads: One shall not negotiate, either openly or secretly, with other participants to exchange names already selected--secondary selection. Fall-out similar to those associated with violations of Rule #2 will follow. Remember, such negotiations involve at least two participants, and one is dealing with family, so the secrecy rules do not apply despite sworn pledges.

 

By the way, we are dealing with family. There either are no rules or all rules are subject to change with or without negotiation or even a "heads up."

Okay, so I will admit to it that I read "Dear Abby." When I was a kid, Mom always seemed to read "Ann Landers." My sense is that Mom's motivation was to find guidance whereby one could maintain their bearings in navigating a world where much was not what it appeared to be and another much was out of synch with how it was suppose to be. I frequently check out "Dear Abby," because it is the one that appears in the local paper and not out of any greater affection for one A over the other A. (I know there is a history between Abby and Ann; for the purposes of this post, I will consider them one and the same.) I am not seeking guidance in the social graces or the proper etiquette for navigating the dark and deep waters of social interaction. My motivation is to find my own "News of the Weird" in a primary source. Numbed by the contemporary genre of reality tv, which is real in only that it is staged for the camera, I am convinced that many authors of the letters addressed Dear Abby or Dear Ann are the work of creative writer wannabes. Can one claim to be a published author if a letter one has penned becomes an entry in a Dear Abby or Dear Ann column? Wouldn't it be a treat to be able to look through the discharge pile--those requests for advice considered too weird to make the cut for inclusion in a column?

Then there is one letter in today's column, which raises the question: how did this one make the cut? What was set aside to make room for this one? Were there so few passable requests for advice that those in the discharge pile warranted a second look? This one--both the letter and the response--deserves a reader review.

DEAR ABBY: After 31 years of
marriage, my wife and I have split
up. We love each other, but after the
kids moved out we realized we have
little in common.
What is an appropriate Christmas
gift for an ex-wife? We are on friendly
terms and will probably spend the
holidays together with our children.
I don’t want to give a gift that will
offend or encourage her.
-- FREE MAN IN
PENNSYLVANIA

DEAR FREE MAN: How about a
gift card from her favorite store, or
a lovely scarf or colorful shawl, or
if she has a hobby, something to do
with it? None of them would send
the wrong message.

So, FREE MAN, just how free are you that you are concerned about offending or encouraging your ex-wife? What more is there to lose, if you offend the lady, or is there to gain, if you encourage her? What if your gift simply bores her or provides her with a reminder of the reasons the two of you broke up after 31 years of marriage? Do you ever think that your thoughts of encouragement are wishful thinking on your part?  Do you ever think that what you describe as "friendly terms" is your ex's efforts to make the best of a bad situation for the sake of the kids?

Hey, MISTER, it sounds like you have skipped out on the responsibilities of marriage and family while hanging onto the emotional nurturing. Is it not time to man up and live the free life and not just assume the title?

DEAR ABBY, how is it that a gift card, scarf, shawl, or hobby supplies would, unquestionably, not send the "wrong message?" What about such gifts as: a flannel nightgown, new locksets for the front and back doors, for which MR. FREEMAN does not keep a key for himself, security locks for all first floor windows, or a gift certificate for an on-line dating service? The MAN needs to avoid  hand lettered IOU's for lawn care, gutter cleaning, and replacement of the garage door opener, while keeping the access code.

Janet Yellen's characterization of income inequality in this country as a "very serious problem" is well worth noting. Even moreso is one of the reasons she cites in support of this worrisome concern: "the decline of unions." Ms. Yellen made these statements earlier this week in her Senate confirmation hearing as President Obana's nominee to become the next Chair of the Federal Reserve. I laud Ms. Yellen's bravery in her use of the bully pulpit of the Senatorial hearings and in expending the necessary personal and professional capitol such statements require in advance of even a committee vote on her nomination. Further statements referencing the "cross purposes" of Federal Reserve actions and Congressional actions in response to our present economic crisis can easily be interpreted as a clear criticism of Congressional actions.

The recent decline in union membership and strength is not so much the result of inherent weaknesses within the union movement, but the result of a direct assault by legislative bodies on the state level and the movement within governmental and private industry to use subcontracted personnel rather than direct hires. Lots of folks bemoan income inequality, but few, especially those with access to the top ranks of power, clearly identify self-incriminating causal factors and therefore the corrective measures that make both good economic sense and comply with a commonly accepted sense of social justice.

I trust that the ship of state (read: and civil society) has the ability to self correct. The tragedy is the pain, suffering, and loss of life that results from the errors in judgment and the narrowly focused application of political conviction committed by those in authority. May history hold them accountable so that much the same mistakes are not repeated and that the common good is characterized by genuine universality.

A recent vote in the US Senate and actions by the US Catholic Bishops prompt me to pursue further a line of thought expressed in my posting of September 5th.

The US Senate recently passed the Employment Non-Discrimination Act (ENDA) which addresses discrimination against LGBT persons in the workplace. President Obama has indicated that he would sign the legislation, if and when it arrives on his desk. Word from the Republican leadership in the US House of Representatives is that this legislation will not be scheduled for a vote, so it is unlikely to proceed any further.

The US Council of Catholic Bishops has published two documents in recent weeks as the Senate was considering this legislation. These included: (1)a letter addressed to US senators, and (2)a backgrounder. Both are available on the USCCB website. In my estimation, the backgrounder is the more telling document. An attempt is made to distinguish between "inclination" (This is a curious choice of words over the more commonly used "orientation.") and conduct. There is reference to unjust and justifiable discrimination (The document uses the phrase: "discrimination that is legitimate."). The underlying assumption appears to be that Error has no Rights as evidenced by the statement: "...sexual conduct outside of [heterosexual] marriage...has no claim to any special protection by the state." I would postulate that as far as the authors of the backgrounder are concerned, "special" is a superfluous word. Their intent is to void any and all protections within the context of civil society. The statement also makes it clear that the term "sexual conduct" is all inclusive without reference to the gender, orientation, age, relationship, or other circumstance (with the exception of heterosexual marriage) of the participants in such conduct.

My September post suggested that a distinction without a difference was being proposed in Cardinal Dolan's statement about judging behaviors and not persons. It is my observation that the distinction being made in the recent documents between inclination or orientation and conduct is similarly built upon a foundation of sand that does not hold up in the day-to-day lives of individuals and in the common areas of social and civil interaction. The intellectualization of a distinction between unjust discrimination and legitimate discrimination is simply unworkable in this context and provides a dangerous guide for civil law. The position of the Catholic bishops is only workable if we accept the premise and the practicality of lifelong celibacy for each and every individual, who describes him or herself as LGBT. Such a position is simply inhumane and unnatural, i.e. in conflict with or in violation of human nature. In support of my critique, I offer the observation that "only 2% of Catholic priests achieve absolute celibacy" (G. Walker, 2004, as cited in Sexual and Intimacy Health of Roman Catholic Priests, P. McDevitt, 2012). It is crucial to remind ourselves that this is within the context of a group of men choosing a career which includes an explicit and very public commitment to live a celibate life. Is it not inhumane and unnatural to make this same demand of every person who discovers his/her sexual orientation to be something other than strictly defined heterosexuality? Contemporary science provides ample support for my position as well--the hard science of biology and the soft sciences of psychology, sociology, and anthropology, so maybe I should apologize for resorting to a high school debate tactic. But I won't.

The question may be restated as: Who gets to decide what is in error? In a diverse, secular society, the boundaries between the personal, the civil, and the sectarian/religious are in constant flux and subject to ongoing struggles and negotiations between the various parties and within the various parties themselves. The interface between civil law and personal/sectarian moral codes is one such boundary. A cursory examination of courtship practices in mainstream American society over the past two centuries or the variation in such practices across today's world provides ample evidence of substantive change and ongoing modification of what is proper, customary, acceptable, legal, and right. As a citizen in contemporary civil society, I may not have to celebrate diversity, but I must be clearly respectful and supportive of such diversity and be willing to accept and work with the personal intellectual and emotional discomfort that so often accompanies the naturally occurring differences in the human community. My personal discomfort may well be on the level of the personal or group moral tenets to which I subscribe.

Can there be a Catholic environmental movement?

Cardinal Peter Turkson, president of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, was recently quoted as saying "In Catholic thought, 'nature' is neither sacred nor divine, neither to be feared or to be revered and left untouched. Rather, it is a gift offered by the Creator to the human community to be entrusted to the intelligence and moral responsibility of men and women. . . .It is hazardous - and ultimately absurd, indeed sinful - to employ biotechnology without the guidance of deeply responsible ethics. . . .Research must be done with ethics and a clear long-term vision that respects human dignity and strives for the common good." (Catholic News Service, October 23, 2013)

Christian thought speaks of mankind being made in the image of the Creator. Is it not reasonable to view all of nature as being made in the image of the Creator? I will postulate that we have more in common with the natural world than that which we do not hold in common. Wes Jackson writes: "The human race was born out of nature and it is out of nature that the human race and all life is sustained every second of every minute of every hour." (Altars of Unhewn Stone, Wes Jackson, 1987) Our ethics and our long-term vision must then respect the dignity of all of nature and strive for the common good of the entire community of nature. Humankind alone is not sufficient measure to guide one's actions. It is appropriate to revere nature and to leave, at least some areas, untouched motivated by either reverence or fear--as evidence of the natural beauty and the pristine quality of the gift or fearful of the negative consequences of our actions or our potential for misuse.

There can be a Catholic environmental movement, but it will need an updated Catholic thought.

I have just returned from today's church service where the celebrant injected a request a cappella into the Prayers of the Faithful asking that "our nation be protected from our enemies." This particular celebrant has added this request on more than one occasion, so I will not excuse the wording by attributing it to composing on-the-fly. I would like to suggest an alternative format for future Prayers of the Faithful. Let us beseech the Lord of All "that we as a nation be reconciled with those whom we identify as enemy and who identify us as enemy."

Here are two links to articles that I found on-line this morning. The first was read before heading out the door to church; the second was read afterwards over a third or fourth cup of coffee warmed up in the microwave. Needles to say that these reads moved me more than today's church service--moved in a way that is appropriate on a Sunday morning.

http://www.theguardian.com/media/2005/aug/24/secondworldwar.broadcasting

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/13/world/europe/behind-flurry-of-killing-potency-of-hate.html?hp&_r=0

The articles speak to the complexity of human nature and the ways in which we organize and think about ourselves. Is it too much to ask that our religious ministers challenge the best that can be found in our nature and not concede to an uneasy peace of mutually assured destruction, which is a false security and a non-peace? Praying for protection from one's enemies is nothing more than asking for success in an arms race or victory on today's battlefield. We are fools to ask for so little; it is a crime against our humanity and the humanity of all to settle for so little.

Unintended Consequences, But Not Unforeseen

There is a move afoot to develop an open-pit iron ore mine in northern Wisconsin and Michigan's upper peninsula within an ancient mountain range--the Penokee Mountains.

The discussion of the proposed mine has focused exclusively on the potential environmental impacts, State mining laws, and the economic impact on local communities. I would like to raise two questions: (1)how will a mine in the Penokees impact on what remains of the iron ore/taconite industry on Minnesota's Iron Range? And (2)how will Australia's expanding iron ore production impact a Penokee mine?

The opening of Minnesota's Iron Range contributed significantly to the decline and loss of Michigan's and Wisconsin's iron ore industry 100 years ago. The older deep shaft mines could not compete with the new open-pit mines. Will not a Penokee mine with the latest technology from the ground up prove to be just too competitive for what remains of iron ore production on Minnesota's Range? One consequence may be increased pressure to increase non-ferrous metal production on the Range as the successor to iron ore production, which will increase the risk of environmental degradation from the technologies used to mine sulfide ore bodies.

Australia is in the midst of significantly increasing its exports of iron ore, with a number of mines currently coming on-line and scheduled for full production within the next two years. This is in the context of a glutted global iron ore market. Australia would appear to be in a position to more than compete with the U.S. mining industry in supplying the Asian markets. Coupling a competitive disadvantage with an oversupply does not bode well for a new mine in the Penokee Mountains, much less an existing mine on Minnesota's Iron Range. (For background, try this link: http://www.prairiebizmag.com/event/article/id/15745/)

Who will lose if the proposed Penokee mine is less economically viable than estimated? Will it not be the local communities and the State of Wisconsin at large? Once in production, taxes, fees, and other payments to local units of government are all predicated on a profitable operation. The less profitable the venture, the less income that will accrue to those impacted by the mine and those bearing the financial responsibility to ameliorate those impacts. The projected windfall will dry up just as the tornado leaves destruction in its wake. The mine operators' cut shows up on the expense side of the ledger; stockholders and units of government will share in the profits (after expenses), if and when there are any. Expenses are paid first and are carried forward year after year minimizing or eliminating profits.

What assurances are there that the proposed mine can be successful both in its own right and without destroying our neighbors and our neighbors' communities, which lie to the west?

Noodles and Chicken
BEST USED BY APRIL 30, 2009

Recent newscasts and newspaper articles have spoken about the confusion with SELL BY and USE BY dates. Today I took the opportunity to perform my own test. Test subject: one. Trial: one.

This afternoon when neither a Brewer's baseball game nor a central division football game could hold my interest, I found myself looking through and rearranging the camping gear. I am not sure what my intentions were; other than "maybe someday... "

In the course of my moreorless aimless activity, I  came across two packages of freeze dried entrees. They are leftovers from canoe trips where they served as emergency rations should we have been unsuccessful in providing ourselves with a freshly caught fish supper.  I decided to make up the Noodles and Chicken to see if it was eatable. (I don't think that I will be needing emergency rations in the foreseeable future. If I should, there is a package of Mexican Style Rice and Chicken remaining with a best used by date of June 1, 2008.)

The dish simply made up according to the directions was quite good. It certainly didn't taste like it was four years too old. Then again, I have no idea what four-years-too-old should taste like. I suppose the next criterion as to whether the stuff was any good is whether or not I avoid an episode of gastric distress. That may serve as the subject for a future post or I may decide some things are best left "off the record."

The lady of the house has been gone since this past weekend tending to family business. That means that the home front has been downsized to a one-man operation. And I mean literally a one-man operation and not literally as in not literally factual, but used for emphasis.

Even though home alone, I have been acting responsibly and tending to a number of repair, fix-it, and minor improvement projects. I even power washed the deck. I tried that once several years back; I was so disappointed in the final outcome that I have stayed away from that task ever since. A day or two before the lady left town, she expressed her dissatisfaction with the current state of deck affairs and her expectation that something be done about it. This time around, I revised my earlier deck washing technique and employed a lot more patience. The end result supports my re-assessment that deck washing can be a worthwhile venture and my inclination is to do it all over again without waiting several years and then only in response to a direct order.

It was early afternoon, and I was feeling good. There were a couple of things remaining on the most current to-do list, but I also needed some things before I could tackle those items. Why not take a trip to Menards? It is only a 150 mile round trip; I'll just consider it as shipping and handling. I also figured I earned a little time off, so why not a road trip. I consulted with the members of the household present and heard neither an objection nor a word of caution. The weather was great; one couldn't have asked for better September weather for a road trip. I will admit that if the leaves were turning, it would have been downright spectacular. A 3:00PM club sandwich lunch was an added treat; every now and then a trucker has to fuel up and check fluid levels to insure that he keeps on keeping on.

Is it nothing more than a distinction without a difference? If so, then it is nothing more than a sly attempt to feign tolerance.

There has been lots of commentary on the Pope's comment about gay priests--a comment made on the return flight from Brazil to Rome. With very few exceptions, the comment has been applied to gay persons in general without any reference to priests. The Pope's statement, in part,"who am I to judge?" has been parsed by Cardinal Dolan and others and rendered as "We don't judge persons; we judge behaviors." This restatement is offered as evidence that the Pope is simply reaffirming long held moral beliefs.

What criteria are used to judge a person, if not behavior, words, or thoughts of the person being judged? How can behavior be judged apart from the agent of that behavior? If the actor and the action are not inextricably linked, how can we hold one another responsible for our individual actions? If I refuse to judge other persons, I can say that a particular behavior is inappropriate for me to participate in, but I cannot say that same behavior is inappropriate for someone else. The claim that one judges behaviors and not persons is a distinction without a difference. It does not foster clarity; rather, it intentionally compounds the confusion.

An ask-an-expert column in this week's Catholic paper speaks to the practice of centering prayer and the mixed reception it has in Catholic circles. It is a practice of eastern mysticism that has made its way into Christian contemplation. The expert speaks of the potential dangerousness of the practice and seems to imply that most who attempt the practice will end up in a place that is theologically unorthodox, that is, in an amorphous "melting into God" (quotes in the original) rather than "with the consciousness of one's own frailties in the face of God's majesty." The column composed of mostly definitive statements ends with somewhat of a caveat: "One needs to remember though, that the true contemplative experience of God in prayer comes only as a gift and can never be guaranteed by any particular technique."

How is it that any one tradition can so limit the experience of That Which is Beyond? If it is truly a gift, how can the recipient limit that gift once and for all time? How is it that the Roman Catholic contemplative is limited to a consciousness of his or her own frailties and is not permitted to experience his or her strength, beauty, and majesty in so far as the image of the Creator has been incorporated into the Created? The gift may well be to expand the notion of orthodoxy within any particular faith tradition.

If something is worth doing,
it is worth doing well.
Doing something well means doing something
as if one's life depends upon it,
because. . .it just might.

As of this morning we are entering the fourth day in a stretch of cool, wet July weather. It doesn't feel like July, even though the calendar says that it is. How un-summerlike have the conditions been? An extra-blanket-on-the-bed-night three nights in a row cool.

On Wednesday, the most recent real summer weather day, I put in a long day cutting firewood in the hopes that I could finish the job and that I would not have to go back at it Thursday should it rain as forecast. I finished the job, and it rained--either good foresight or causality on my part. I am glad that I saw that task through to the end. I am not so glad with the abrupt and marked change in the weather. Limited outside activities have been the order of the day these past three days. I have the option of permitting the weather to influence, if not dictate, my outdoor activities. Morning walks in the drizzle, mist, fog, or combinations thereof simply means that I take appropriate measures to dry my clothes on my return home. Breaks in the weather during these days have allowed for the completion of a few minor outdoor tasks. I am also well into my next read. During yesterday's morning walk I took the opportunity to stop at a local restaurant to enjoy a $1.50--tax included--cup of coffee with unlimited refills. I can also attribute that decision to the weather, at least, in part.

The coffee came with the chance encounter with a local artist, who had recently returned from a three-week job in southern Indiana painting stage sets. Next month he will return to Indiana to do up a local restaurant as a New Orleans street scene. If any of my readers, find themselves in southern Indiana somewhere along the Lincoln Highway thinking that they are in New Orleans, blame the confusion on an itinerant artist and his patron and not that extra glass of sweetened ice tea. I came away from this encounter thinking how much of our lives are spent thinking, imagining, and play-acting that we are not where we are, but that we are someplace else. In so doing, how much of the very real do we miss out on?

If we stay tuned into the weather, doesn't that encourage us to keep it real? The weather not only can dictate outdoor activities, but prompts adjustments to those in which we continue to be engaged: long or short sleeves, rain gear or sunscreen. Indoor activities are also weather influenced: the number of blankets on the bed, open or closed windows, fans, or a cake in the oven.

Hand-me-downs? At my age? Yes, they are hand-me-downs.

Yesterday the maple syrup crew, Rick, Bill and I, got together for the final clean-up of the 2013 season and to move firewood for the 2014 season to the sugarhouse. The latter task was delayed by the wet spring and early summer rains which kept the trail through the woods somewhat impassable. The rains have continued as late as yesterday morning; the low spot in the trail was wet enough to coat the truck and tractor tires as an unsightly and unserviceable recapping effort. (I am sure not all of my readers are aware that at one time worn tires were “recapped” and resold.) At the end of a seven hour day with coffee and lunch breaks—one of each—the firewood relocation effort is not yet completed. We plan to go back at it this morning.

During one of the breaks, Bill noted that I was wearing a t-shirt touting the advantages of ice cream and including the Dairy Farmers of Wisconsin logo. Bill then posed the question: “Where did you get that shirt?” I explained that it was a hand-me-down that Mom had given me after Dad passed away. Bill then pointed out that the belt he was wearing was his Dad’s, given to him by his mother after his father’s death. It was his Dad’s dress uniform Sam Browne belt from World War II with the shoulder piece removed. There we were a couple of guys in our late 60’s wearing hand-me-downs with an altogether different emotional content than we would have experienced at age ten when wearing hand-me-downs from an older brother, cousin, or neighbor.

I choose this particular t-shirt for purely utilitarian purposes. The forecast called for temperatures approaching 90 degrees, so I chose from the pile of work t-shirts—as opposed to the pile of dress t-shirts—the one lightest in color and weight. Despite that being my motivation, the history of that shirt is never forgotten whenever I put it on. It was duly worn, before it was hand down to me, so I wear it like I own it. By the end of the day it was filthy, but I didn’t rip it. It has survived a passage into and through the Valley of Filth before and came through the follow-up laundry experience unstained. I am certain that this particular t-shirt will not survive a passage into a following generation unless it simply becomes a member of someone’s ragbag. I plan to wear it and work it hard; it came to me with evidence of hard work, so it ain’t like it has never been there before. And I plan to be able to wear it and work it hard for some time..

Wearing hand-me-downs sourced by the previous wearer outgrowing them is very different than wearing hand-me-downs sourced by the previous wearer’s death. Connections with the previous wearer are also an important element in this exchange. There is a denim jacket in the downstairs closet that was given to my Dad by a neighbor after her husband passed away. This is a neighbor whom I never met. When Mom passed the jacket onto me, she commented that she didn’t think that Dad ever wore it, even after she had shortened the sleeves to fit Dad’s wingspan. The modification also fits my wingspan. What is the difference here? I think I can best sum it up with the following direct and heartfelt statement: If you are going to wear a dead man’s clothes, it is best to have known that man and to have an ongoing attachment to that man’s memory.

 

I suspect that a lot of folks are like me. When purchasing a book from Amazon.com, we will add that additional item to the shopping cart so that the purchase exceeds $25.00 and qualifies for free shipping. I know that my daughter fell to this ploy when she purchased a book for me for my birthday. Since she is family, I can't extrapolate that to "a lot of folks" and maintain the validity of my statistical analysis. One needs to be cautious when one's study population consists of two closely biologically related subjects. The resulting research findings may not reflect the general human condition, but simply be indicative of isolated genetic aberration or even a cultural trait masquerading as a genetic expression.

Despite the machinations of its purchase, the "filler" for a recent purchase of mine has been a good read. The filler is The Instinct to Heal by David Servan-Schrieber. The author is a psychiatrist and a member of the group that I like to call Inter-Planetary Association of Post-Psycho-Pharmacological Dudes and Dudettes. (In catchy short-hand, that will be IPAPPPDD or the IPA Triple P Double D.) The group membership is open to dudettes, even though I have yet to find a dudette to offer a lifetime membership in the group and the honorific, yet enviable, status of Career Diplomat in Post-Psycho-Pharmacological Mechanics. Honorary degrees in Humane Letters with a variety of subspecialties are also available. Dues and fees are based on an individual "ability to pay" and determined by a group of one's peers motivated by unknown and unseen forces and with total disregards for the future, let alone the good name, of the organization.

Despite my feeble attempt to make light of the perspective of this author, this is serious business and a point of view with which I am comfortable supported by my own professional experience. Folks with this orientation move beyond the mind-body distinction so characteristic of the physical health/mental health divide. They simply reject it as a legitimate parsing of the human condition; this rejection is supported by the observation of practitioners and by formal studies. The methods employed to restore and promote health and well-being also reflect this integrated approach.

So Pope Francis drives a Ford Focus. And here's the proof: http://adage.com/article/news/ford-focus-brand-vehicle-pope-s-humble-car-message/243011/

Last week I succumbed to my wife's urgings and agreed to replace our 2002 Focus allegedly because of the increasing frequency of repair bills. Following some on-line and on-the-ground research, we decided to upgrade to a 2013 Focus. (My wife and the car are out of town for a few days so I can't include a picture--of the car, that is, with this post.)

Now I read that Pope Francis also drives a Focus. I don't know the vintage of this alternative pope-mobile. I wonder who decides for the Pope when it is time to replace his vehicle. Celibacy means having to make so many more decisions on one's own.

What is the impact of any number of recent comments made and examples shown by Pope Francis? Will the local bishop be trading in his Jeep Grand Cherokee?

In any case, I feel a little smug about driving a new Ford Focus--maybe even a little self-righteous--possibly even a little too self-righteous.

Sometimes, one just needs a layover day. Canoe campers will be familiar with the layover day. It is a non-travel day in the trip plan. It is a day that serves any number of purposes--a rest and relaxation day to recover from the rigors the preceding days of paddle and portage--a chance to string a line and dry out sleeping bags and tents packed either in the rain or simply endowed with several nights' heavy dew--fishing, swimming, or both--a more leisurely pace in making supper and performing other camp chores--repairing a piece of equipment--an afternoon nap--reading--catching up on one's trip log-- and yes, enjoying more than one day's allotment of trail mix. It may even become a travel day, if the crew is behind schedule and needs to make up time and distance. The layover day may be determined by the weather and taken when high winds prevent venturing forth. The crew may decide to travel in light rain on a scheduled layover day, thereby saving the layover day for when there is a break in the weather.

Today is my layover day. I spent the past two days making firewood for the 2014 maple syrup season. They were two long days. Monday I quit at 6:00PM; yesterday I quit at 5:00PM. Rather than push on, I decided that a layover day was called for. This morning I got the oil changed in the pick-up and made a periodically compulsory trip to Walmart for somethings which I simply can't live without. Since then the lawn has been mowed and the chainsaw sharpened. It is too bad there is not a Brewers' game this afternoon. I could have caught the end of it while napping in the recliner.

I have a daylong commitment tomorrow. I will be back making firewood on Friday and Saturday, weather permitting. The weather may have me considering another layover day this trip.

I have taken a few minutes to review my 2013 postings. It is accurate to say that I was preoccupied with the maple syrup season during March, April, and early May. It is not that I haven't been thinking about anything since the close of the syrup season; it is just that I haven't been successful in putting together a blog entry. Syrup making is really a year-a-round activity. This time of the year I am thinking of the need to replenish the woodpile. Rick and I walked the farm yesterday and discussed some ways to tackle this task. It is very wet in the woods, so vehicle access in most areas will be off limits for now. We leave enough marks on the natural environment; deep ruts don't have to be one of them at least with respect to our syrup making venture. The chain saw hasn't been sitting idle. I bucked up a couple of understoried balsams in the yard that had succumbed to the lack of sunlight and had given up their ghosts in tree terms. They are now stacked next to a friend's firepit where they will create ambiance for guests.

In January I enrolled in an e-course with UW-Superior titled "Healthcare in the Second Half of Life." The course addressed a number of topics applicable to the age 60 and older crowd and in many ways, applicable to anyone, who has anything to do with these same folks. My motivations for the course were self-interest and a continuing education requirement. The course was scheduled to end May 31st, but a few things have lingered on. It involved a lot more time than expected. A few of the topics were much more engaging than expected, in particular, the issue of healthcare planning within the context of chronic illness and life-threatening conditions. I learned how conflicted we are as a society on this issue and how the individual healthcare consumer is clearly outmatched by healthcare professionals and healthcare institutions as one attempts to exercise a degree of autonomy in the selection of treatment options when the best possible outcome is so limited and the risk of serious and detrimental consequences is so high. It appears that having one's documents in order, including powers of attorney of medical care, advance directives, living wills, or physician orders for life sustaining treatment (POLST), is not sufficient. One can expect that it will take considerable assertiveness on the part of the consumer patient with the added support of a strong willed advocate to insure that the desires laid out in such documents are followed.

The Medical Society of Wisconsin is piloting a program entitled Honoring Choices-Wisconsin, which encourages physicians and patients to have a discussion about the patient's individual preferences for end of life care and to make appropriate plans and arrangements. As this program is implemented, I am fully expecting a bit of an uproar. My hope is that all parties concerned can participate in a reasonable conversation and set aside hyperbole and volatile vocabulary. We need to find common ground rather than highlight and concretize differences.

For my part, I am also conflicted on where to make my own stand.  I know that I am not comfortable with a dictatorial overriding moral principle of survival at all costs--however one may compute those costs--personal, emotional, the capacity for independent and autonomous function, financial, and social. The past three years have also shown me that this issue needs to be resolved before implementation is imminent. It is not a task to be attempted coincidentally within the highly charged atmosphere of emergency medicine. I also know from experience that the longer a crisis or chronic condition lingers on, both patient and family simply want it to be over--one way or another. This too may not be the best rationale--in whole or in part--in support of a decision.

 

This is the last vestige of winter remaining in the yard. For the past two weeks, I have been raking around what originally was a large snowbank as it released its grip on the yard. The rain in this evening's forecast should hasten its final demise. There was an advantage to its lingering presence; I had an excuse for not completing the raking task in one go.

This past week, I marked another milestone in the changing of the seasons; the snowblower was put into its summer location following an oil change and the lawnmower was taken out of its winter location. The oil had been changed in the lawnmower before it was put away last fall. I am trusting that the precipitation  in the forecast will not come as snow and that the next piece of power yard equipment needed will be the lawnmower.

We shall see if the calender and the forecast are in sync. If not, it won't be the first time that I fell victim to unrealistic expectations based on faulty data.

The weather has taken a wintry turn since Tuesday. That afternoon with temperatures near 70 degrees, thoughts of washing the car and truck came to mind--washing the old fashioned way, that is, parked in the driveway with the hose on the outside faucet, cold water and only cold water all the way. It must be a rite of spring in car culture to perform this initial bath of the automobile in a highly stylized manner. I wonder if there is an approved clothing list and an equally approved selection of beverages and finger foods that must accompany this ritual activity in order to insure freedom from accidents and mechanical breakdowns during the following six months.

Having spent Tuesday morning performing clean up chores in the sugarhouse, I decided to postpone this rite of spring. It just seemed like too much work. I picked up the yard instead--another rite of spring--and only that part that was free of snow. Winter returned or, at least, turned around and came back in, as it appeared to be slipping out the door. With a total of 18 inches of snow and 30 degree temperatures, it is looking a lot like Christmas. Forget about spring rites and rituals, the winter chore of clearing the deck and driveway continues.

The task of pulling taps or spiles along with gathering up and washing bag holders, which will formally mark the end of the syrup season, has been postponed until next week. We are expecting more seasonal weather that can accompany these tasks. An outside activity like washing bagholders--not unlike car washing--is not something to be undertaken in freezing temperatures.

Addendum: Spell checking is an interesting exercise. The correct spelling is wintry and not wintery. Spile is correct, even though it is not in the database, so I reverted to Webster's New World Dictionary and then learned that spiling is synonymous with piling.

I just finished an 8-day stretch in the sugarbush gathering sap and/or running the evaporator on these days. The sap has not run to speak of since last Friday; daytime high temperatures have approached 60 degrees. It has not frozen for several nights. I am quite certain the season is over--over except for the clean-up. There are no freezing overnight low temperatures in the forecast, so I don't expect sap flows to be recharged. The red maple are in full bud. I suspect that the brother species will follow as soon as the snow pack is gone.

I plan to wait until later this week to pull spiles and gather up the bags and bagholders. There is still a lot of heavy wet snow in the woods. With a few more days of warm weather and possibly some rain, much of that snow may be gone so this part of the clean up will be less of a chore. We are not yet driving to the sugarbush, which means everything is still being packed or sledded in or out. That includes the water needed for clean-up.

Today we finished and bottled 23 gallons of syrup, which brings our season total to 68 and 1/4 gallons. That exceeds our previous season record total of 66 gallons. There is a need to footnote the record. The new record was achieved with 200 taps; the previous record was obtained with 175 taps.

Yes, the woodpile will also need to be replenished.

It is the 23rd of April, and this is the scene this morning in the sugarbush. Yes, the sap did run today. I spent an 11 hour day evaporating half of the sap collected yesterday. (I would have gotten an earlier start, but my driveway needed to be attended to due to last night's 8 inch snowfall.) I will be back at it tomorrow to finish the remaining sap and be ready to tackle today's and tomorrow's runs on Thursday. That is the plan.

Since my last syrup season update, the weather has posed the most significant challenge. In the past ten days, we have received three spring snowstorms, the latest gifted us with 18 inches of heavy wet snow. On top of that, it rained late yesterday. This morning the weatherman predicted 4 to 6 inches of snow to arrive this evening and overnight.

I find that shovelling out the entrances to the building, the bulk tanks, and the woodpile is one of the first chores to be tackled upon hiking out to the sugarhouse. Dealing with this much snow this late in April has to be a first in the 10 plus years that we have been involved in this venture. I am sure there have been years when the head of the field and the road into the sugarhouse were free of snow and dry enough that we were driving to the sugarhouse at this time. Being able to haul stuff out and in, rather than carrying stuff out and in, is greatly appreciated this far into the season, when all the tasks involved begin to wear on one.

I hiked out yesterday to check on things and to pack up the syrup that was finished and packed on Thursday. We finished 21 1/2 gallons of syrup on Thursday, which brings our yearly total to date to 45 1/4 gallons. There was some 24 to 30 inches of heavy wet snow in the woods. It is of a consistency that snowshoes don't provide much, if any advantage. I spent a couple of hours shovelling out and straightening up inside the sugarhouse, in preparation for the upcoming week.

There was some sap flow yesterday, but, as so typical this year, it was very inconsistent. Some trees had produced almost half a bag--approaching 2 gallons; others appeared to not have produced any at all since our last collection on Thursday, the 16th. We will be gathering sap later today. I am not looking forward to that chore and the effort that it will take because of the snow conditions. It will be better to tackle that task today rather than to wait until after tonight's additional snowfall. The forecast for the week would seem to support the notion that there will be syrup making for at least the next several days. I am looking forward to the warm temperatures and the absence of snow in the forecast for late in the week. I trust these conditions will make our getting around a whole lot easier. I am sure we won't be driving, but only walking a whole lot easier.

The syrup season continues. Sap flows have been modest with daily collections--on those days when the sap ran at all--ranging from 100 to 150 gallons. The sugar content seems to be quite high with a sap to syrup ration of 30 to 1 based on our somewhat rough estimates of the volume of sap. The usual ratio cited in the business is 40 to 1. Ratios of 25 to 1 are not unheard of. The number that really counts is the volume of finished syrup. We now have 18 gallons packaged and ready to go. There is another 5 gallons ready to be finished and bottled. That task will be tackled later today. Hopefully, last night's low temperature was enough to restart a sap flow; I fully expect to be collecting sap late this afternoon. The final task scheduled for today is to split wood. We split the wood as we put it up so that it cures more readily. Based on our observations as we operate the evaporator and the on-line postings of other syrup producers, I am convinced that splitting the wood even smaller makes for a hotter fire and more efficient operation of the evaporator. That explains the second round of splitting. My goal is to split the well seasoned wood into pieces that are about the size of my wrist. I enjoy the effort involved in and the results of splitting wood. It is one of those skills, that I want to keep honed--just in case.

It is time for a syrup season and pack basket update. The pack basket is working better than the syrup making.

Cold daytime temperatures returned late last week and have hung around through the weekend. Tomorrow may be the first day in five that the daytime high temperatures reach the upper 30's. We ran the evaporator twice last week--Friday and Saturday. The small amounts of sap that have flowed since last Friday have now frozen in the bags, so it will take a real moderation in temperatures to thaw that sap let alone get the flow started once again. All in all, it means a slower and a delayed start to the season. We can remain optimistic about the prospects for the season as long as the conditions remain seasonal, that is, spring-like. It will be a brief and unproductive season, if spring quickly becomes summer-like.

The pack basket, on the other hand, is not temperature related; it is task related. It has performed very well. A three-gallon water can fits easily in the pack, which means that I can pack that amount of water out to the sugarhouse on a daily basis. The six-gallon water can, that I have, won't fit in the pack; it gets packed out on the sled, when needed. Even with the water can, there is ample room in the pack basket for lunch, extra clothing, and tools.

Here is a picture of my newest camp tool. I have no idea what material has been used in its construction, other than it must be a man-made material--at least I think that it is. It appears and feels to be as indestructible as advertised. I haven't attempted to replicate the test posted in an on-line video where a pick-up truck runs over the basket. A second test included in the video has one person wearing the pack and a second person standing in it. I guess if one tells those Maine boys that something is indestructible, one best understand that the claim will be tested. That is probably good advice to keep in mind should one find him/herself in a tavern in Maine and be inclined to brag about how many pickled boiled eggs one can consume in one sitting.  For my 3-R readers (Reduce, Reuse, Recyle), pickling boiled eggs is a cool way to reuse pickled beet juice.

It is time to close this post. I have degraded myself to the point of writing about bar food.

Later this morning, we will take the third step indicating that the 2013 syrup season has begun--firing up the evaporator. We tapped on Tuesday and Wednesday and collected 120 gallons of sap late yesterday. The snow was sticky late in the day and we were breaking trail as we wound our way through the sugarbush. Managing a five gallon bucket on each arm while navigating the snow field made the effort quite the chore.  I take some consolation knowing that the trails between tapped trees and the bulk tanks will firm up with repeated use and make the task a little less challenging. Snowshoes continue to be the "uniform of the day" with at least two feet of snow remaining in the woods. After a couple of weeks of hauling sap, I begin to wonder if my sleeve length is longer and my height is even shorter than they were previously. One of these years, I may even be able to scratch my knees without bending at the waist.

This photo was taken last week as we tackled some of the prep work in anticipation of the season. Some folks came to work; some came to hang out. By the way, there is a box of dog biscuits on the counter in the sugarhouse kitchen. Help yourself.

The taps are in--all 200. Rick and I worked at this task over the past two days. Temperatures are moderating--daytime highs in the low 40's. The consistency of the snow was markedly different today--sticky. It took some extra effort to move around the sugarbush with today's conditions. This 67-year-old body feels it. I recovered quickly from yesterday's effort, so I am hopeful that I will recover from today's effort. The evaporator was rinsed and assembled. The last section of stack, that is removed each year to avoid wind damage, was put into place. We are ready.

It is time for the magic to begin. Let the magic begin.

A week and a half have passed and we are still just thinking about tapping trees. Daytime highs range from the high teens to mid-twenties. Eight inches of new snow overnight and through this morning driven by high winds not only cancelled school for the day, but kept the tapping crew out of the woods. The Twin Ports weather man warned us about -20 degree windchills tomorrow morning. The wait continues. During the next day or two we can snowshoe out  to the sugarhouse and shovel out (for the third time) the front and rear entrances along with the paths to the woodpile and the outhouse and the stand for the bulk tanks. We don't keep records of snow depths in the sugarbush, but I judge the current snow depth to be the deepest in the 10 years that we have been at this adventure. This year will most certainly mark the latest start to the syrup season.

We probably should be in the woods tapping trees this weekend. Our experience has shown us that the weekend closest to St. Patrick's Day has been the usual start of our syrup season. Breaks in the weather of two or three days duration prior to that don't really get the juices flowing. We also propose to keep an eye on the weather forecast, so that if a real break in the weather is approaching we can adjust our dates. It always seems to be a flat out gamble. We thought about tapping this weekend and even made some plans to do so, but then we backed off. The weather is milder than predicted, so I find myself rethinking the plan, the revision, and the update.

Over the years, experiences, like making maple syrup, have convinced me that I do not have a personality conducive to farming. I would be thinking and rethinking every decision based on some guesstimation of the coming weather, the price of a commodity at some future date, and the choice of cultivar or species for my geographical location. I don't know if I would have long ago turned to drinking, but I do know that I would have been even more impossible to live with. I don't think I would chosen to live with myself under those circumstances. Maybe I did make that choice without being fully conscious of its dynamic at the time.

Who gets to be called “Doctor” anyway?

I am curious why Jill Biden is frequently referred to as Dr. Biden in the media. I know that she had a doctoral degree in education (Ed.D.) so it is clearly proper for her to be so addressed. Michelle Obama also has a doctoral degree (J.D.). Why is she not referred to as Dr. Obama in those instances when she is not referred to as the First Lady of the United States?

The local and now retired school superintendent has for years had the personalized license plate of DOC DON. Is there something about educational professionals with doctoral degrees touting their terminal degrees?

Then there is NPR’s Doctor Science--“I’m not a real doctor; I have a master’s degree in science.” What about Kermit The Frog? He at least deserves an honorary doctoral degree. I really like the title: Dr. K. T. Frog. I would suggest that Dr. Frog’s degree be in Humane Letters, which is exclusively an honorary degree. That way I don’t offend any more folks with this posting, except for all those folks who have been awarded honorary degrees in Humane Letters.

Sometimes even presidents have questionable ideas--at least in my judgment.

The suggested criteria for selecting a college and by inference that must also include the choice of major, minor, and/or dual major has become "getting the most bang for the buck." We have come a long way in assessing value of post-secondary education, and the way travelled has not been on the road to a very desirable place--again in my judgment.

Estimating the lifetime earnings of every 18-year-old incoming college freshman must be easy, if you are the president and have a cadre of MBA's from Wharton Business School, Yale, and Harvard providing support. What are the careers that will be the goldmines for earned personal income over the next four decades? If word gets out that pea-picker is an up and coming career choice with promise of a 6 digit annual income until 2053 and beyond, what is the effect of US and foreign colleges and universities producing twice as many pea-pickers as global industries can absorb? Let's see. Pea-pickers will be working half-time; half of the diploma clad pea-pickers will be out of pea-picking work; pea-pickers working in their chosen field will be working for credit at the company store. Then there is always the possibility that a pea-picker with a secondary major in mechanical engineering will develop a robotic pea-picker that puts the pea-picker dudes and dudettes in unemployment lines and eligible for retraining for the latest up and coming goldmine career.

Another challenge in sizing up the bang of the buck is the impact of a college or university education apart from the academic field of study. Certain academic institutions are able to significantly add to the success of their graduates based on the network of alumni and a reputation that may or may not evidenced in any particular graduate. Would Clarence Thomas or Sonia Sotomayor be US Supreme Court justices, if they had not gone to Yale Law School? (I am glad that they did, and they are.) I suspect their legal careers would have unfolded very differently, if they were graduates of Hamline University School of Law, St. Paul, MN. Would either be a less competent legal mind, if they had?

Does the medical profession provide us with an example of the unintended consequences of chasing the big bucks? Forty years ago, the advice was to go to medical school, if one wanted to make big bucks. The evolution of health care and the development of medical specialties with questionable claims to higher rates of reimbursement has left us with a void of family practitioners and pediatricians and other socially less sanctioned specialties.

Recent reports on MBA careers may be another example.

This country needs more good lawyers, physicians, and bankers than can ever be absorbed by Washington, DC legal firms, for-profit cardiac surgery centers, or Wall Street banks. Come to think of it, this country needs good high school chemistry teachers, automotive mechanics, and philosophers--to name just a few--again in my judgement.

The use of the term “God-given-rights” and its application to the contemporary socio-political scene are problematic for me. My first read of the term includes both universal and irrevocable qualities. If these rights are in fact “self-evident” and “unalienable” as so stated by the drafters of the Declaration of Independence, these rights must precede their embodiment in the documents, which form the basis for any organized society and government. In addition, they must apply to all members of the human race irrespective of where folks reside either on this planet or on the international space station. Any national government that proposes to curtail such rights based on residency and/or membership in a specific national state, i.e. citizenship, would appear to be guilty of overreach. If one’s faith tradition posits a Creator Deity, who has so “endowed” creation, how is that we creatures can deny that gift to fellow human beings based upon either their national identity and/or physical location? Do accidents of birth modify an individual’s rights as a human person?

The recent release of the Department of Justice memo outlining a supporting rationale for targeted killings, i.e. drone strikes, is the motivation behind this posting. I have been stewing over the matter for some time. Many of the actions discharged under the umbrella of the so-called war on terror seem to be defended with this same inconsistent logic and internally contradictory speech.We need to be intellectually honest and rationally consistent, even when our short term interests will not be served and a convenient course of action will be called into question—serious question.

 Despite claims of “self-evident” and “unalienable” rights, our practice and the practice of nation states down through the ages speak to a much more mundane origin of and utilitarian application of civil liberties. At any given time and in any given place, these liberties are what a given group has sanctioned at that time and in that place. In cruder terms, civil liberties are what the powers-that-be have decided what will be in their best interests at the time. Claims of historical precedence, divine sanction, and self-evidence are often nothing more than poorly founded claims of legitimacy.

When this is the view from my window, it is so easy for me to imagine that I am someplace else. Then again, it is not someplace else. It is here. It may be that I am some place else. I only need to return here--to get back to where I am, that is, to where I always was, since I had never really left to go some place else. I only thought I was someplace else.

Maybe what I long for is a different time, a different decade, or even a different century. It is so easy to romanticize the past. I simply select those bits and pieces, which I find attractive and blow them out of proportion and take them out of context.

The present is the present; presence is the gift.

The new pack basket arrived on Monday. This was timely. I had used the old one Sunday to pack a chili and cornbread lunch out to a friend's cabin. It literally came apart, though I managed to make it back to the trail head without spilling the contents. I salvaged the sternum strap that I had fabricated for the old pack and put it on the new pack. This is more than an attempt at continuity between the replacement and the one being replaced. There is also something to be said for making a personal modification to any new piece of equipment. I think it is what campers and backpackers are compelled to do. Mainly, I find that a sternum strap steadies the pack so that it doesn't move as freely side to side. A shifting pack makes me very unsteady on my feet. Couple that with an uneven surface, and it can look like I am about to fail a field sobriety test.

I haven't yet brought myself to put the new pack basket with the other camping equipment under the stairwell in the basement. It is sitting in my home office. I like looking at it. Its presence may well incentivize me to make appropriate use of it in the near future. I certainly hope so. I will resist any urge to use it as a newspaper or magazine rack--even an outdoor magazine and camping catalog rack.

 

 

 

 

I ordered a new pack basket this week to replace the Chinese made facsimile that I had been using for several years. I used it as if it was the genuine black ash or cedar strip version. It has now become barely serviceable despite several attempts to repair and strengthen it. The new one, which has yet to arrive via parcel post or UPS, is made of some space-age material and comes with a lifetime guarantee.

I took notice of the lifetime guarantee on two accounts. First off, my present basket is at the end of its days, and I am not at the end of mine. (My current basket also didn't come with a guarantee of any length.) Secondly, as my 67th birthday approaches later this month, a lifetime guarantee doesn't have the same saleable commodity as it did when I was, say, 45. Maybe there is a way to add significant value to such a guarantee. I have two grandchildren, who will be celebrating their first birthdays later this year. Talk about a lifetime guarantee of investment grade quality. I could claim that everything that I purchase is really for a grandchild, and that I am simply holding onto the item, until he or she grows into it.

The old basket has used primarily to pack supplies to and from the sugarhouse early in the syrup season, when the road in is impassable. It has carried its share of water, fuel, tools, lunches, extra clothes, and trash. I am not sure how to lay the old one to rest as I transition to the new one. I suppose I could simply hang it on a nail out at the sugarhouse. If it should end up in the firebox of the evaporator one day, that would be a fitting end, in my judgment. More than one pair of gloves, which no longer served their intended purpose, have ended up that way. Come to think of it, the firebox on a large commercial evaporator could even accommodate an old syrup maker should the question of what to do with one, who is no longer able to serve any useful purpose--flannel shirt, bib overalls, and packboots included.