As I write this, the thermometer is sitting at 99.75 degrees. This cannot be a good thing. It cannot be a good thing at all when you have to use your meat thermometer to figure out how hot the patio pavers are. Hello, Okefenokee Swamp, we seem to have your weather. We’d be happy to send it back to you, preferably by FedEx’s overnight delivery. So which one of you, in the deep dark iciness of winter, wished for a hot summer day? Someone, someone other than me, must have been complaining long and loud about sub-zero January days. Because it is karmic payback day today.
Know how you can tell it’s summer? Yeah, you can read your Dickinson Press on the patio any time between 5 a.m. and 9 p.m., and you won’t need a flashlight. And yeah, your boat is on your driveway and your Weber kettle is always fired up. But do you know something else that is getting fired up? First on First. That’s the weekly street par-tay down at the corner of Bernie’s Esquire and the U.S. Post Office. New name. New game. Day’s the same, be glad you came!
Memorial Day is one of those happy-sad holidays. We are way happy that school is out for summer and that we can get outside and play in the yard. Because there is only a slight chance of snow in June, July and August. Maybe not July. But we’ve seen shovelable snow in June and frost in August, haven’t we? And some “natives” who have been native here a lot longer than me have told me of July frosts, too.
Have you ever gotten that feeling, like you have done something or seen something before? Even though you know it is impossible? You know, like the Kansas City Royals winning the World Series. Or like the Cubs being the hottest team in baseball. It is called déjà vu, which sort of means, “Did you view that already?” This weekend, there is a very strange unfolding of events at the Odd Fellow’s Lodge in beautiful downtown Dickinson.
Are you a paper-clip person or a staple person? Do you clip your stacks of paper together with those magnificent spirals of steel, or do you perforate your papers with those vicious points of malevolence? See, there are two kinds of people in the world: clippers and staplers. Clippers are consensus builders. They gather things together and enfold them in safe comfort. Staplers are pushy, shovey types who delight in stabbing innocent sheets of paper. Clipper people make good teachers, nurses or sheep herders. Staple people make good vampire hunters and zombie slayers.
One of the greatest inventions in the universe has to be that lint roller pickie-uppie thingy. You know those things. They are like a triple-wide roll of masking tape on a stick. And everything that is stuck to you gets stuck to the masking tape on a stick when you roll it across your trousers. Hint: it is easier to do the rolley business when the trousers are not on you. Bigger hint: it is lots easier to use the rolley thingy when the trousers are not fresh out of the washer. You are waiting for the backstory on this, aren’t you?
Last fall, we planted a bazillion spring flower bulbs. There were tulips surrounding the baby’s breath. Daffodils beside the garden wall. Hyacinths hiding the window wells. And something we did not even know the name of, which screamed, “Plant me beside the downspout!” One-hundred fifty bulbs and $40 later, we had a beautiful spring garden planted. We watered the bulbs. We fertilized the bulbs. We talked baby-talk to the bulbs. And we waited for spring.
Have you seen the goose video clips that have been all over the Internet lately? There was a mega-flock of Canadian geese in the Prairie Pothole Region near Woodworth, N.D. Somebody from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service was taking photos of the flock, and it took him 15 pictures to capture the whole bunch. He estimated the flock to be a mile long and contain a million birds.
Dr. Shelley Lenz’s veterinary clinic began in a van in 2007, and has now grown to a 16-acre complex in the northwest corner of Dickinson. Lenz, an Ohio native, had ties to family land in the Killdeer area, so when she decided to move her practice to a rural area, western North Dakota was the perfect fit. “My vocation in life is to bring quality and accessible veterinary care to rural areas,” Lenz said.
KILLDEER — What started out as a casual road trip many years ago for Eric Kehr and his father has turned into an abiding love for the North Dakota plains and people. Kehr is the owner of the Buckskin Bar & Grill on Highway 22 in Killdeer. He has grown the business from a small-town bar into a dining destination known all across the area. In fact, former Sen. Byron Dorgan is a regular visitor at the Buckskin, and offered flattering words for the restaurant. “Sen. Dorgan says the Buckskin has the biggest reputation in the state,” Kehr said.