My Box of Favorite Things

At the age of nine, I had an oak box in which I kept my favorite things. I would sit cross-legged before the box and pull out my treasures to admire them: an antique purple bottle, a cut geode, my collection of knapped arrowheads, a parchment replica of the Declaration of Independence, square nails, a Chinese coin with a square hole in it, a brass bell, a big goose feather, and a silver dollar.

After appropriately admiring each item, I would carefully replace them and stow the box until I felt the need to see everything again.

Today, my favorite things are no longer confined to a box, and they are these: an antique purple bottle, the photograph of my wife on my smartphone home screen, the Elkhorn Mountains as seen from my bay window, my entire rock collection, and time spent at our cabin.

I see these things with my eyes open or closed.

Purple Bottle

—Mitchell Hegman

The Laws of Shopping

• There is no such thing as too much parmesan cheese.
• If you walk down the potato chip aisle, you will be compelled to buy a bag of chips.
• Remembering to purchase the salad dressing will force an error elsewhere on the list.
• Whatever you bought last week is on sale this week.
• Some of the produce bags are purposely sealed shut on both ends.
• The shortest checkout line generally harbors someone with an item requiring a price check.
• The one item you entered the store specifically to buy will be the one item you forget.
• The cart with the squeaky wheel will always choose you.

—Mitchell Hegman

Hands On

I watched an Amish man, by way of explaining his skill at carpentry, say, “We Amish are hands-on from an early age.”

For whatever reason, when I heard the phrase “hands-on,” my brain instantly leapt to Jeffrey Epstein.

That’s how deeply one wicked man can saturate our everyday lives.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Bleak Cup

Soak the hoya, trim the lemon, and pull the shades down to spare the tender goldfish plant. There will be no celebrating, for we’ve lost the mystery plant.

Five days ago, I shared the story of the mystery plant start I found in a bucket of soil in a dark corner of my garage. Hoping I might nurse it along in a friendly cup of soil, at least long enough to see if it was friend or foe, I prepped a cup and planted the start inside.

Sadly, the plant withered and perished, leaving behind a bleak cup of nothing but moist dirt.

So lightly water the orchids. Place the lime in direct light. Give the cat palm an extra sip tonight.

The Mystery Plant

The Bleak Cup

—Mitchell Hegman

The Tin Cat

If someone or something is just trying to make a living and they are not directly doing harm to me in doing so, I extend them latitude. This includes mice.

I recently discovered that mice have taken to making something of a rodent condo in the warm, enclosed spaces of my outdoor hot tub. Obviously, I don’t want them there. They are messy, disease vectors, and they poop everywhere they go. But, at the same time, they are simply trying to make a living, and there is no direct harm to me.

My measure of giving them latitude is live-trapping them and then driving them down the road to release them. To that end, I purchased a new live trap called a Tin Cat. It is designed to capture more than one mouse once set. The very first time I used it, I was astonished at how well it worked.

I caught three.

I also like that the trap is fully enclosed. After each use, I can hose the inside clean without exposing myself to the mess the mice have left behind after release.

Good stuff, that.

I’m posting a photograph of the Tin Cat (open) next to a requisite Cold Smoke beer.

—Mitchell Hegman

That Other Thing

I have been without access to my sticky notes for three days now. I had no idea how difficult it would be.

—Mitchell Hegman

Wildlife Just Outside the Window

Desiree and I are staying in Three Forks while I am teaching classes in Bozeman. Our room is rather close to the edge of civilization. I am posting a photograph of the wildlife just outside our window. Several of these critters are eating the heads off the dandelions in the grass.

A Gopher Eating Dandelions

—Mitchell Hegman