depotguy's Blog - page 2

So a LONG time ago, here in my blog I mentioned a song by a band called LOW. At the time I said the song made me remember the feeling of first love and late nights. I've listened to it enough since then to change my mind completly.

So tell me if you think this is too weird. I am a big time planner. I have planned and hosted all of my birthday parties bacause who knows what I like more than me? And I don't think it's too early to plan the video montage that I would like for my funeral. I don't think thats too odd because I'm not afraid of death.

So "will the night" is a song that speaks to me about the journey. If you give it a listen wait for 1:25 because it all comes together for me on that note. And also the band members are friends of mine so don't be mean.

[url]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y-vwZ-Fiyqs[/url]

I think it's funny that in all my years of blogging here, I've never talked about the beargrease! Some will think I am talking about a favorite lubricant of hirstute heavyset gay gentlemen, but no, John Beargrease was a person.

John beargrease and his brothers delivered the mail from Beaver bay (no snickers) to Grand Marais MN up till 1899. There were no roads so they traveled by whatever means were available according to the weather. For a long stretch of winter that meant dog sleds.

Two remarkable things about Mr. Beargrease. He made the mail run once in 26 hours! The crazy thing about that is that he did this in the 1880's! No fancy sleds, just him and 4 dogs. Modern mushers running up to 16 dogs could MAYBE beat that time.

The other story, Mr. Beargrease Loved delivering the mail. After 1899 when the road was opened (still just a horse trail) the mail still went by boat when possible. In a wild storm John rescued a mail carrier whose boat was being smashed against the rocks, he caught pneumonia and died.

I have been able to volunteer at the race start a few times. Can you imagine hundreds of dogs barking and howling. They are so excited because they know they are going to get to do what they love best...RUN. The teams take off one at a time. It is hard work because when you are helping you have to hold the dog still and make sure they dont jump against each other until the gun goes off. If a dogs lines get tangled there is no stopping them. A dog who is tangled will get killed in the first hundred feet. It happens very rarely, but thats why that job is so important.

well, another slice form my neck of the woods. If you are curious http://www.beargrease.com/index.php

Adding an edit here: the race is about 325 miles

Sort of a dilema. I think I have come to the conclusion that I LOVE my farm in the spring, summer and fall. And HAte HATE HATE it in the winter. This house is expensive as hell to heat (wait, that makes NO sense....it's got to be cheap to heat hell) I feel so isolated in the winter. Ugh

The weird thing is, I could afford to live in my other house in the winter but I would feel like a big waster. 2 houses....one person....thats just wrong.

Some people tell me to get a dog. Ahhh, maybe. Perhaps I should get a roommate out here. It's mostly remodeled enough to share. What a crazy dilema.

And no blog!

The reason is really very silly. A lot of my friends and co-workers know that I love to blog. They are all very curious and want to read what I write. I've never told ANYONE where my blog is and some of them take it as a personal challenge to find it.

A few months ago one of my vendors told me he'd found my blog. He was really excited to tell me. I just replied with a "whatever" not really wanting to freak or anything. I don't think he really found it.

So anyway...it got me to thinking. I have a lot of personal things here. I guess I just needed a break. But, if your reading this Mike...Hi!

So the plan was to leave for Canada early friday morning. I'm all ready for that.

First, one of my best friends mom died yesterday morning. (Mind you we were going to Canada for 5 days) and the funeral is on monday morning. The super sad part is he is getting married in 3 weeks. I can not miss her funeral, I remember how much it meant to me to have friends show up at my moms funeral.

Second, the person who was sharing a vechile with me to Canada is sick. Don't know how sick as his fever is just starting.

I hate to think about ME at a time like this But, this was my only trip of the summer. I couldn't afford any vacation, no island trip, no road trips. Just this.

I'm just going to throw it all up in the air and see where it lands.

I'm only getting about one egg per day. Do you think it would help if I took my axe out there and told them it was eggs or their heads? I know I couldn't do it but the threat might help. I know the real answer is a simple light bulb and a timer. They don't lay eggs if the days are shorter than 12 hours.

just another project

I can't stop thinking of a warm winter vacation. It is almost an absolute impossibility. There are great deals already posted out there....but no. I would love a week in PV. LOVE

I'm heading to Canada late this week. It's only a few hours drive, but this is only the third time I've graced their border. I and a few friends are kicking back at a lodge near Nipigon. We do have some work to do so it won't be all fun and games.

Off to bed, reading for an hour is sweet.

Supposed to get nice and cold here tonight (around 25) I still have so much to do! My washing machine is still stored in the barn and that can't freeze because it will ruin the pump. I have cases of paint and caulk to carry in the house also.HURRY.

And I have apples still to pick...geeze.

Guess I'd better get to work

I'm making crabapple jelly tonight.

My favorite.

(Oh yeah, GO VIKINGS)

about joining this netfliks thingy. I figure they will deliver them right to my driveway. And I can just throw them back in the mailbox when I'm done. The price seems right. Hmmm

Has anyone tried it? Do you like it? I figure they must have a FEW movies a freak like me can watch. If you remember I don't watch any movie with violence or blood or gore. I don't want any Kricket nightmares.