Labor Day. 

Girlfriend and I get up early and go for an extended walk before breakfast.

It's the dove opener.

Someone wasn't exactly mouse-like when we left at sun-up.  (That would be Girlfriend - not me)  My wife got a chuckle out of that.

The dog has priorities.

On the outbound trip she's snuffing and huffing - tearing around - waiting for birds to fly and the report of a 12 gauge.

It's her first official hunt of the season so I can cut her some slack for being overly enthusiastic.

Every time she gets a bit ahead a toot on the whistle brings her back.

Periodically she stops - intently sniffing something disgusting - and rolls in it. 

Very lady-like.

Some birds are flying - but not anywhere close to us.

Nonetheless it's a glorious morning - cool ground fog and a heavy dew - with the  prospects of 90 degrees by midday.

Hey, stinker - how's your 401k doing lately?  Disappointing, eh?

I get a quizzical look in return.

Hey, stinker - don't you worry about running out of money when you're too old to hunt?

At the word hunt she halts in her tracks - the head tilts and simultaneously the ears shift.

Don't worry sweetie.  I got your retirement covered.  Guaranteed. 

I get a blank look.

I got your health care covered too.  First-dollar - no deductible or managed care for my Girlfriend.

 It's not free for nuth'n, either. 

You earned it.

The hard way. 

Really.

I get a Labrador snort in return and the dog resumes walking with that quizzical what the heck is he talking about look. 

Back and forth we go.

The cat birds are calling.  Meow.  

Girlfriend is beginning to slow.

Her early exuberance has taken some of the snot out of her attitude.

We commence the walk back to the house - the long way - and she's hanging pretty close now.

Hey knucklehead - did you hear that McCain and Obama are neck-and-neck in the polling? 

What'a ya think about that Sarah Palin?

She's an outdoors girl ain't she?

Dog perks-up.

C'mon brown-eyed girl - don't you know how important this moment in history is?

I get the quizzical look from her intelligent brown eyes.

So, stinker now that it's dove season we're gonna really hunt'em-up aren't we?

Dog sits.  Looks at me intently.  I get the happy tail.

Find the bird.  Hunt'em-up.  

The dog tears-off - quartering - and returns when the whistle sounds.

Good job! 

Alright baby cakes.  Let's get home.  You and I are going to have breakfast and coffee on the porch and we'll figure-out the rest of this nonsense later. 

Dog bounds-off joyously.

You're so handsome, you're so pretty, you're the belle of Belfast City.

So much for talking politics with the dog. 

Priorities you know...

Tom

Oh come on. 

Admit it. 

If you have animals - you talk to them. 

I know you do.

The garden has recovered nicely and fresh veggies are rolling in the door and finding their way to the table and freezer.

Been picking green beans, peas, kale and a couple varieties of lettuce.  The radishes are finished for the present and I'll sow more when the weather turns cooler.

There is hope for the late sweet corn.

I had some ripening tomatoes that disappeared.  Not just a bite out of a tomato - the whole tomato - gone.

My brilliant wife solved the crime when she found Girlfriend eating something in the garden.

Thinking the dog was dining upon a mouse she found out the dog had been selectively picking and eating the ripening tomatoes.

To freeze green beans simply pick, wash, cut the ends-off and cut to size if desired.  Blanch in boiling water for a couple of minutes and plunge into cold water.  Drain and package in two-cup  batches with the FoodSaver.  Garden to freezer in about a hour or two.  Yum! 

Tom

The primary nesting season is coming to a close so Girlfriend and I went for a walk in the meadow with little chance of the dog disrupting any ground nesting birds.

Holy Silphium Perfoliatum Batman!

The wildflowers have exploded all over the place!

Click on picture to enlarge

See any favorites?

Tom

Has anyone ever heard of a black lab turning brown?  Ours certainly is.

I'm not making this up.  Girlfriend is slowly turning brown.  At this rate I figure we'll have a chocolate lab by August. 

I've been spending as much time as I can out-of-doors and already have a Larry the Cable Guy red neck tan.  So maybe the dog is fading as I turn brown?  The Labrador equivalent of a tan?  Go figure.

Girlfriend is being trained this summer to follow whistle commands.  Smart dog - she's picking-up on it quickly.

The morning training includes a check of the nest boxes.  Most are empty as the young have fledged.  We'll clean the boxes - removing the old nest, any dead birds and unhatched eggs.  This will give the parents a clean box for a fresh start on a second brood and less risk of spreading diseases.  These pictures were from a foray this past weekend.

Remember this late hatch from the last update?

Here they are now-

We also found scads of this stuff blooming in the meadow.  Can you identify it?

The R2D2-like call of a bird with striking markings caught our attention and we spied a flock of these-

The sighting of this bird was a first for me so I added it to my life list.  Can you name it?

Last fall I nuked a patch of reed canary grass.  I was hopeful some native seeds were patiently waiting in the soil for a chance to be released.  Now there is a sizable patch of this-

Any guesses?

Girlfriend also found this- 

Very fresh and about a yard-long.

More updates later.

 Tom

Gardening season is almost upon us and I have the itch really bad.

I love to garden - so much so - I have cultivated what others have characterized as my Vast Garden. 

I cannot help myself.  It is my genetic makeup.  I was born a: Gärtner.

My lovely wife is a Master Gardener.

Not me.  What I lack in finesse and expertise I compensate-for with scale and experimentation.

This is my garden - it's a guy thing.

It's almost as large as my entire lot in Tosa.  (click on the picture to enlarge).

The fetching pooch in the picture is our black lab - Girlfriend.  She is the chief rabbit control officer.

I have just finished discing-in all of last year's dead vegetation along with wood burner ashes and a delightful mix of sheep and cow manure.  Yum!

That means gigantic and tasty vegetables.

Stay tuned as there is much more to follow.

What works and what doesn't work. 

Doing battle with the critters (remind me to tell you about early morning varmint control over coffee on the porch with a .22 Marlin). 

Harvesting, canning and preserving.

I'm always looking for ideas - so please share your garden tips and techniques.

Tom

PS - I've gotten all of my seed from Burpee - but the Jung Seed Company still hasn't sent me all of my seed.

I am getting nervous.

So last Sunday afternoon I returned home from hunting with girlfriend - exhausted.  Looking forward to putting my feet-up, I strip down to my long johns and stretch-out in a comfortable chair to read the papers.  

Ding Dong  

My reverie is shattered as the ringing of the door bell launches girlfriend into a frenzy of barking accompanied by a headlong charge for the door.

Since there are rules and social conventions that discourage the greeting of callers in your underwear - my wife springs from the couch, restrains the dog and answers the front door.

Standing on the porch is one of my alderman - Bernie Grimm - with a fistful of reelection literature.

Being the modest guy I am I remain on the chair and listen-in on the conversation that ensues:

"I'm Bernie Grimm - your alderman.  You have Stepaniak and McBride signs"

"Yes, we do"

"You know you don't have to vote for them"

"That's ok - we're decided"

"Do you have a computer?"

"Yes"

"You need to check-out that Stepaniak.  Google Stepaniak.  You won't believe what you see"

"Anybody can put anything on the internet"

"You need to Google Stepaniak"

"My vote is firm"

"You need to Google Stepaniak"

"Really!  My vote for him is firm"

"I ask that you vote for me.  I have the support of the fire and police departments"  (Hands over literature).

End of exchange. 

The alderman wheels-about and departs.

With a twinkle in her eye my wife nods to the Joeythelovesponge For Mayor yard sign in our living room.  We both start chuckling at the same thought - what if we had that stuck in the yard. 

Tom

You can learn more about the 4th District aldermanic candidates here.

Girlfriend and I went for a walk in the woods today.

Who can tell me what critter did this?

Ahem.

There seems to be some confusion.

I lay it at the feet of the print version of WauwatosaNOW for treading so roughly upon my heretofore barely-tarnished reputation.

Seems they published the blog post about my late mother.

The copy that appeared in print was edited in such a way that girlfriend was presented as a girlfriend of the human female persuasion.

Everyone that reads this blog knows that this is girlfriend.

I am happily married and this is my wife.

The lovely little lady is our step-grandchild.

Stop now with the emails and calls.

Tom

Friday night a buddy calls me with the news (make that a notification) that we're going pheasant hunt'n on Sunday.

I have to met-up with the guys by noon.

Ok.

Girlfriend and I had been chilling-out at the tree farm since Thursday.  She - recovering from a brief illness and me - juggling the day job and farm stuff - somewheres at the opposite corner of the state.

No problem.

We'll pack a shotgun, the boots, the cold weather gear, a couple handfuls of shells a snack for the both of us, hit the road early and be in Jefferson County before lunchtime.

Then it hits me.

Right smack between the eyes.

Today is the anniversary of my mom's death.

It was on a cold and sunny Sunday not too many years ago that I stopped by St. Joe's  after a pheasant hunt to see how mom was doing.

She was doing terrific.

She was doing so well that she informed me she expected to be released the following day.

We talked about hunting. We talked about her coming home.  I reminded her to have pop give us a call when they got home.

 Early Monday the phone rang.

The caller ID said St. Joseph's Hospital.

I took the call thinking mom had an update. 

Nope.

It was the nursing station on her floor with not so good news.

Mom died peacefully between the time they had woke her to take her vitals and bringing breakfast.

Today we had a similar sunny and cold hunt. 

We killed some birds.

While walking thru the snow and watching girlfriend work the cover I had some terrific and lasting memories of mom.

Tom

Post Script -

Grace Gaertner was a substitute teacher for the Milwaukee Public Schools from the 1960s through the early 1980s.

Oddly enough that was her career.

She did not drive so she either walked or took the bus to wherever she was assigned on a daily basis.

She took pride in never having to shut or lock the door to any of the city classrooms to which she was assigned.

She was practical, tough, but loving.

100% Irish.

Last weekend I had an opportunity to participate in some outstanding upland bird hunting.

Girlfriend and I traveled to South Dakota with eight other guys and five additional dogs for three days of hunting.  We rented a house in Doland - population 305.  The local economy is agriculture and hunting.

We hunted for three days with access to portions of 30,000 acres of Ag and CRP land - utilizing the services of a most excellent outfitter - Randi Dix.

Hunting begins no earlier than 10 AM and closes at sunset.  Shooting Dakota birds is unlike anything you'll find in Wisconsin.  Large numbers of birds that are as cagey as can be imagined.  These are birds that will take to flight at the mere sight of a vehicle or blaze orange, the slamming of a truck door, or bark of a dog.

The weather was generally sunny and windy with temps below freezing and rising to the high 40s to low 50s.  Chapstick is a necessity.

Interstates, state highways and a few town roads are paved - mostly everything else is a simple dirt track.  The land is flat, dry and generally blowing through the air.  Dakota dust was everywhere - your vehicle, your dog, your clothing, your nose and your gun. 

Hardly any cellular service.  Sporadic data on a Blackberry.  No DSL.  I never read a newspaper. 

I felt like I walked a hundred miles through corn and switch grass. 

Tons of birds and the profligate expenditure of ammo.   

We hit our bag limit each day. 

Girlfriend was in doggy paradise. 

At the end of the day the telling of stories over a whiskey was the perfect send-off to an early bedtime. 

Life is good. 

Staging to begin driving a corn field.

Planning and strategizing

Billy with some birds

Girlfriend and me

A refreshing adult beverage at the end of the hunt

Yes- you CAN get the Packer Radio Network - and we managed to catch fragments of the Kansas City game on Sunday during breaks in the hunt. 

Had an opportunity to join a couple of my deer hunting buddies this morning at the Crawfish River Hunting Preserve.

Working the switch grass

It was pleasant early with higher mid and late morning temps making things tough for the dogs.

Eleven birds down - all recovered.

I took the day off today.

The pheasant opener is tomorrow so girlfriend and I spent a fine fall afternoon hunting woodcock as a warm-up.

Closed the day with a fish fry at Colonel Hart's.

I recently recovered from a bad case of poison ivy. 

I know what poison ivy looks like and I know where it lives.  I avoid it like the plague.

Unfortunately, girlfriend doesn’t know this and she will gleefully tear thru a poison ivy patch with reckless disregard for the consequences. 

Bottom line: I got it from the dog.

Anyway, a quick web search (replete with grisly and dreadful photographs) indicated that a possible course of treatment indicated the use of steroids.  I located a bubble pack of Methylprednisolone (kept on-hand for bee stings) and started taking them.  Wouldn’t you know it, the rash began to disappear.  That is until the pills ran out. 

At that point the rash erupted with a vengeance.

With few remaining options I decided to go to the walk-in clinic for a professional fix.  The doc congratulated me on my attempt at self-medication but pointed out that the treatment of poison ivy required a stronger dose of steroids delivered topically in a salve.

Twice-daily applications of the greasy goo and the rash began to clear…just about the time I came down with a whopper of a cold.

Yep, you guessed it, courtesy of the throng of runny-nosed toddlers and their viral progeny in the clinic waiting room. 

That stinks.