Past Blogs

It’s the orgy to end all orgies. Narcisse, Manitoba, an hour north of Winnipeg, is the scene of the party. That’s 800 miles north of our house, and some year around late April or May I want to take a drive up there.

The Narcisse Snake Dens are home to the world’s largest congregation of snakes. The snakes are all red-sided garter snakes and are entirely harmless. For eight months, 50,000 of them hibernate in their underground limestone crannies. When spring finally arrives in that northern realm, the males all slither out with one thought on their minds…sex. Males vastly outnumber females; the ratio can be 10,000 to 1. The ground is a “writhing carpet of snakes”.

Next, the girls, who are considerably longer and wider than the guys, slowly glide out. The females secrete pheromones and are swarmed by dozens or even hundreds of eager suitors who rub their chins along the ladies’ backs while flicking their tongues. Once the females pick a male and mate, they go off alone and give birth in late summer. Red-sided garter snakes are ovoviviparous meaning the eggs hatch inside the female’s body and the snakes are born live. Mom, however, does not hang around and care for her kids.

The Narcisse Wildlife Management Area has a sensational web site at naturenorth.com.

Check out their snake videos and don’t be squeamish. These snakes rock……and roll in mating balls!

“Objects in motion tend to remain in motion” is a law of physics that I understand. Therefore, every morning I do exercises to get the object (me) in motion for another day.

Many of the exercises I do involve a yellow exercise ball. I enjoy using the ball as the workouts done with it seem to be more fun than those without. But sometimes I mess up an exercise and the big ball gets away from me. Several times it has rolled itself the length of the balcony and then bounced down all the stairs. And herein lies the problem.

Our black cat, Taj, is terrified of the big yellow ball. He is convinced that it is a big cat-eating monster coming to get him. He sits warily at the far end of the balcony watching me exercise. His big yellow eyes, like two mini exercise balls, never leave the ball……he is waiting to flee if it attacks. The stair incidents caused him to run and hide in fear.

Fear is a terrible emotion, often worse than the object or thing feared. I don’t want any creature to live in fear, especially one that lives in my own house. So I tried to devise a way to help Taj overcome his terror of a ball he could deflect with one good bat of his paw.

I did not teach him how to play ball. Rather, I made the ball the purveyor of all goodness….cat treats. Training a cat is a long, slow process, but Taj and I are making good progress. In a few more years, we may even be playing ball.

An acquaintance of mine recently had a bad art experience. She is extremely knowledgeable about art history and has visited many major art museums here and abroad. My friend is also an elementary school teacher who incorporates exciting art projects into her lesson plans. It is always a delight when I teach in her classroom.

Her problem began when her husband’s company decided to have an employee party for fun and bonding. Being a good partner, she went with her spouse to the “art studio” where the party was to be held. These entertainment venues are spreading like spilled paint all over America. The concept is to be in a group, drink enough wine to feel relaxed and then play with the provided paints and canvases.

The facilitator (I refuse to use the word teacher) began by telling everyone to copy the picture she was holding up, a saccharine beach scene. It never occurred to my art loving friend that she couldn’t choose her own colors, alter the composition and paint in her own style; in other words, create an original work of art.

The leader was extremely unhappy with this display of originality and made her displeasure known.

Surprised that this art studio had nothing to do with art, my friend asked what the couples would do with the two absolutely identical paintings they would be taking home. In my opinion, a fair question, but not a good one for her husband’s career advancement. Good team players are to make copycat paintings and then regale in their new found inner artist.

The art czar’s response was that the second painting would “make a lovely present for a friend or relative”.

In the real world, an artist is a creative person who works to find unique solutions and perspectives. And becoming an artist involves years of study and hard work like every other worthwhile thing in life.

If you want to be an artist, take classes from an art center or from an artist. Then go out for wine after class. Or if you just want to have fun, buy some paints and canvases and invite your friends over.

Samuel Clemens, a.k.a. Mark Twain, has been popping up in book reviews lately. Not bad for an old riverboat pilot, silver miner, typesetter and writer who has been dead for over 107 years.

Born in Florida, Missouri, in 1835, Twain was witness to an incredible chunk of American history including the Civil War, Reconstruction, Industrial Revolution and Imperialism. Being an acute observer of human nature, he did not hold back from biting commentary on all of the above.

Stephen Kinzer in his recent book, The True Flag, awards Twain the honor of being the greatest nemesis to Theodore Roosevelt and his fellow imperialists. He records Twain’s total condemnation of America and Europe’s efforts to carve out and pillage the non-Western world and sites this quotation from a 1901 Twain essay as proof:

“And as for a flag for the Philippine Province, it is easily managed. We can have a special one- the states do it: We can have just our usual flag, with the stripes painted black and the stars replaced with skulls and crossbones.”

Another new book reveals a completely different side of Twain. Every night he told his girls a bedtime story. Twain writes in his journal of his daughters demanding he make up a story on the spot and handing him a visual clue as a prompt. He notes,”They were a difficult and exacting audience – those little creatures. The stories had to be absolutely original and fresh.”

In 2011, a literary scholar unearthed a sixteen page, unfinished manuscript of the only fairy tale that Twain ever wrote down. It has the improbable title, Oleomargarine, and is about a poor boy who eats a magic flower that enables him to talk to animals. Doubleday Books hired a children’s author to complete the story, and The Purloining of Prince Oleomargarine will be released this fall.

A reincarnation of Mark Twain would be most welcome at this insane moment in American history. Fortunately, he has left us volumes of his pithy words and wit. Here is one of his remarks that is wildly appropriate for this moment:

“Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.”

Michael Perry in his new book, Roughneck Grace, calls our Wisconsin springs “this brief season of abeyance between snowmelt and leaf-sprout.” He also adds “the season of rediscovery.” The last is not a profound statement. He’s referring to the items that turn up when the snow piles melt…..like the lost earring I found last week.

Personally, I define our spring with the words fickle and fortitude. We get all euphoric when a fifty degree day rolls around and shed our layers of clothing and fears that winter is without end. A day later the thermometer is fifty degrees lower and a big snowstorm blows in. In a few hours we are back to living in a world of white. This requires intense attitude adjustment and more cash to pay the snowplow guy.

I find that a list of don’ts is helpful in coping with this schizophrenic season. Here are a few of mine:

• Don’t put the large soup kettle away.
• Don’t take the winter boots to the shoemaker for new heels just yet. Sandals in snow is a poor option.
• Don’t run the car through the car wash. ( Note that I learned this the hard way. Last week the skies were clear when I entered the wash and filled with snow when I excited.)
• Don’t leave home in a spring jacket without a winter coat in the back seat.
• Don’t start any cute little tomato plants in pots on the windowsills. They will produce tomatoes before they will be able to survive outside.
• Don’t go into the garage without waders on. Half of the gravel driveway and a ton of slush have migrated into there.

People who live in tropical regions have none of these concerns. Every day resembles the one before it….a lot of sun, some rain, more sun, warmth, flowers blooming, butterflies flitting and almost equal night and darkness. But there is one thing they will never experience, and that is the total sense of absolute joy when the first true spring day arrives and we realize we’ve made it through another winter.