Sunroom Door

Thanks to help from a carpenter friend, I installed the door into my sunroom.  So ends a thirty-one-year-long process.

I originally framed the door opening in June of 1991.  I could not afford the sunroom at the time of my home’s construction and finished over the opening, leaving a kind of “ghost door” opening inside the wall.

Last year, on June 20 (almost exactly thirty years to the day of framing it), I peeled open the wall and daylighted the opening.

And now a door finally fills the ghost space.

The door I chose is mostly glass, so I can bring in light from the sunroom when I want.  But for those times when I don’t want the light, the door also features blinds built into glazing.

Sunroom Door Framing (June, 1991)

Sunroom Opening (June 20, 2021)

Sunroom Door with Blinds Up

Sunroom Door with Blinds Down

—Mitchell Hegman

Uyen’s Choice (Splash)

Uyen and I adopted two cats from the Humane Society in 2006.  Before adopting the cats, we discussed our strategy for finding the right cat.  Uyen put it this way: “The cats need to pick us.”

At the time, a dozen or so cats were living in the Humane Society’s “cat room.”  After Uyen and I entered the room, she sat in a chair and I sat on a bench near a couple napping cats.

All around us, cats for adoption were either napping, playing with toys, or exploring the various features in the space.

After less than a minute, a petite gray and black cat padded over and rubbed her face against me.  As soon as I gave her a pat, she climbed onto my lap and curled up, purring like crazy.  She remained there as I fluffed at her coat.

Uyen, had been using a walking cane for ten years by 2006.  As she sat there, she held the cane alongside her.  At almost the same time the little gray cat befriended me, a big ragdoll cat with splashes of color approached Uyen and started playing with her cane.

From here, the math is pretty easy.  Uyen fell for the big ragdoll.  I wanted to give the petite gray cat a home.

A day later, we took the two cats home.  Uyen named the little girl “Roxie.”   I named the big boy “Splash.”

Today, Uyen is gone, the cane is gone, Roxie is gone, and Splash is gone.

I am posting a photograph Uyen captured of me with the two cats at our cabin.

Me, Splash and Roxie (2008)

—Mitchell Hegman

So Long, Buddy

Yesterday afternoon, a veterinarian came to my house to help my cat, Splash, exit this place of light and windblown grass.

He didn’t appreciate the wind anyway.

But we had a good run, me and my boy.  I helped him catch a mouse now and then.  I opened his cans of food in a satisfactory manner.  And I was pretty quick at the back door.

Splash provided me with purring and company when I needed it.

We had sixteen good years together.  Not bad for a couple knotheads.

So long, Splash.

So long, Buddy.

Love ya.

Splash

—Mitchell Hegman

A Septarian Nodule

Mud is usually not super cool, but exceptions do exist.

If you have spent much time in Montana—particularly east of the Rockies—you are familiar with Bentonite.  Mixed with water, Bentonite becomes pure mud.  Some refer to it as “gumbo.”  If heavy with moisture, Bentonite is as slippery as sheer ice.  As it dries out it reaches a point where it becomes sticky and will cake onto shoes or tires.  When dry, it ranges from hardpack to chalky.

Bentonite is used as a natural sealant for ponds and reservoirs.

Bentonite also has an artsy side.  On this side, you find something called septarian nodules.  The nodules formed where ancient sea shells or other organic matter became incased in Bentonite.  Over time, the Bentonite, mixed with mineral precipitates, turned to concrete.  And the void where the organic matter resided, transformed into crystalline calcite and aragonite (in non-technical terms: pretty stuff).

Septarian nodules are found in Utah, Madagascar, and at the Helena Mineral Society’s annual rock show.

On Sunday, I found a specimen at the rock show.

Cut Septarian Nodule (The Scary Face Inside is a Bonus)

Nodule On the Outside

—Mitchell Hegman

A Cat Raised by Dogs

We need a day off from war, intemperate weather, and rising prices.  To that end, I am sharing a video about a kitten convinced it is a dog.

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N1YuodFxRWE  

My Working Rock

The Helena Mineral Society is holding its annual Gem, Mineral, and Fossil Show this weekend at the Civic Center.  I will definitely stop in and poke around a little.

I attended my first rock show at the Civic Center just shy of sixty years ago.  When I was seven or eight, my uncle Stack took me to the show.

The show dazzled me.  I saw heaps of polished stones, cut agates and geodes, gold, fossilized fish, crystals, precious gems, and more.

My uncle bought me a collection of various minerals at that first show.  In the years since, I have attended at least twenty of the rock shows. 

Today, if you came to visit me, you would discover rocks on display throughout my house.  I have two large display cases filled with specimens in my den.  I have rocks in my kitchen, living room, bedrooms, and master bath.  And you will find one disk-shaped rock on the ledge of my utility room sink.  I call that specimen my “working rock.”

I use the working rock whenever I grill salmon.  I like to grill my salmon on a cedar plank.  Before doing so, I use the rock to hold the plank under the water while I soak it the sink for an hour or two before grilling.

    

The Working Rock

—Mitchell Hegman

Contrails and Stemless Daisies

We experienced a strange sky yesterday.  For several hours at midday, the contrails from jets crisscrossing our valley remained fixed in place.  The vapor trails did not expand and dissipate.  And they did not shred apart in the high atmospheric winds as they normally do.

My neighbor, Kevin, and I stood outside my house staring up at the grid-like trails.

“Something is not right about that,” Kevin suggested.

“It’s weird,” I said.  “But a lot of weird stuff is going on these days.”

After Kevin drove on down the road, spooling out dust from behind his SUV, I strode off for a walk.  I am happy I did.  A mile into my walk I came across the second sure sign of spring (bluebirds being the first).

I am talking about finding my first stemless daisy (Hooker’s Townsendia).  They are the first flowers to emerge in the spring.  The plant is diminutive, but tough as a river rock.  Stemless daisies prefer exposed ground and full sun.  Only a few days of warm sun is required to bring forth the first flowers, which are roughly the size of a nickel.

As in years past, I am sharing a photograph of the first stemless daisy in bloom.

The Stemless Daisy

—Mitchell Hegman