Road Closure

I will admit to being a bit “slow on the uptake,” as the saying goes. Sometimes, I need to be told directly it’s time to go. If someone is trying to explain how to construct something, a sketch or two may be required to drag me fully onboard.

While taking a drive through the mountains yesterday, we found a road closure that must have had people like me in mind. The instant I saw the road, I was pretty certain they didn’t want me driving on it.

I’m sharing a photograph of the road so you can judge for yourself.

Closed Road

—Mitchell Hegman

Ghost of the Eastern Seaboard

The Stanfields are a Canadian rock band based in Halifax, Nova Scotia. They blend a hard rock style with elements of traditional Atlantic Canadian folk music. The Stanfields released their debut album Vanguard of the Young & Reckless in 2010.

Today I am sharing Ghost of the Eastern Seaboard, a particular favorite of mine.

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V8GyDzzA5j4

—Mitchell Hegman

Friendships

Literally, there have been many billions of friendships formed on this planet over the years. But when you shake it down, mine are the only ones that mattered.

—Mitchell Hegman

Softwood

You’ve likely heard that thing about using the internet to self-diagnose an ailment from which you might be suffering. You’ll find an answer alright, but it will be the worst-case scenario. You have something unpronounceable and cured only by drinking castor oil and eating lots of liver.

Unfortunately, a similar strain of bad news awaits if you search to find what you should and shouldn’t burn in your trusty woodstove. The “interweb” is going to tell you that burning softwood is bad. As the story goes, when you drill down (maybe up in this case), softwoods produce a lot of smoke and chimney-clogging creosote. Also, log per log, softwoods produce fewer BTUs than hardwoods.

Here’s the thing. All needle-bearing conifers are softwoods. This includes the pines, firs, and cedars out West where I live. I could accurately write that this effectively includes pretty much everything available in my region of the Rocky Mountains.

We don’t have oaks and walnuts proliferating at our back door. We’ve planted ourselves amongst the pines and firs and must make do. In fact, I spent considerable time this spring and summer cutting and chopping a reserve supply of lodgepole pine and fir for my stove.

Those of us who have not known better have been successfully burning softwoods for hundreds of years. A little damper control. A finely marbled steak. A well-aged single malt Scotch. And a stack of split pine. That’s all we need to laze through winter.

My Softwood Reserve for the Coming Winter

—Mitchell Hegman

Penelope and Her Purple Toenails

Penelope didn’t like daisies or oranges or button-up shirts.

She was seven and had her reasons.

Penelope was right-handed by nature, something her mother referred to as “wrong-handed.” Imagining she might please her mother, she painted her toenails purple with her left hand. And her mother might have been pleased had she looked beyond the purple smears on the floor.

How could you figure adults, she wondered. Adults used words differently.

The same words. Different meanings.

When her mother said “I’ll think about it,” it meant “no.” “Soon” meant “now.” “A little” meant “a lot.”

And before Penelope painted her nails, her mother swore purple was her favorite color and she would be happy if everything was purple.

—Mitchell Hegman

More Reasons to be Thankful

I’m thankful wings are not standard-issued equipment on spiders.

I’m thankful that my feet still reach the ground.

I’m thankful that mosquitoes are small enough to swat.

I’m thankful that gravity generally continues to work in my favor.

I’m thankful that fish don’t have hands.

I’m thankful that apple trees don’t slap me when I’m picking apples.

I’m thankful singing karaoke is optional, not required.

I’m thankful I’ve already proven two wrongs don’t make a right.

—Mitchell Hegman

Smoked Fish

Something near three weeks ago, smoke rolled into Montana from fires in Washington and Oregon. The smoke not only persisted; it thickened with contributions from wildfires in Canada and then right here in Montana. At the same time, extremely hot temperatures settled upon us.

Early in August, my car logged a temperature of 105°F, matching our all-time record high.

Yesterday, while driving through another hot afternoon of ever-thickening smoke, I said to Desiree, “Honey, I can’t even see the mountains for all the smoke. I think if we get another week of this, we’re going to be smoked fish.”

—Mitchell Hegman