A Creepy Start to My Day

Early yesterday morning (4:30 am early) as I sat on my sofa drinking my first cup of coffee, I was assaulted.

Okay, maybe “assaulted” is too strong a word.

Sitting there, and feeling something ultra-feathery on my forearm, I lightly scratched at it.  When I glanced down at my arm, I saw a wood tick. 

I immediately dispatched the tick.

Ticks are not insects.  As you might suspect, they are arachnids.  But (this is hard to fathom) they are creepier than spiders because they are miniature vampires.  And, unlike most biting pests, they don’t ambush and then escape in a hurry.  Instead, ticks burrow in and make a comfy nest for themselves in your skin—all the time sucking your blood (and maybe sharing Lyme disease or Rocky Mountain spotted fever with you). 

The fact I found a tick on me so early in the morning while sitting on my sofa is especially weird.  Where did it come from?  Ticks neither fly nor jump.  They rely on something called “questing” to acquire a host.

Questing involves either hanging out on grass or brush and latching onto a critter wiping past or they might drop from a high perch as a critter passes underneath.

I have always claimed to be a “tick magnet.”  If ticks are about, they will somehow find me first.

—Mitchell Hegman

Personal Traits

• My croquette game is outstanding.
• Had I been Patrick Henry, the quote would be: “Give me lemons or give me death!”
• I am the inspiration for the phrase “operator error.”
• Ripe mangos make me happy.
• I silently think the same things president Biden says aloud about Vladimir Putin.
• I mispronounced the word “rotisserie” until in my late thirties.
• I am sometimes willing to do something wrong just to be done with it.

—Mitchell Hegman

Two Horses Eating Dirt

I drove by two brown horses in a small, fenced-in section of bare ground.  The horses appeared to be eating dirt.   Whatever grass and plants that once grew on the ground inside the pen vanished under-hoof long ago.

I don’t know much about horses.  I know which end you feed, and that’s about it.

But something about horses eating dirt doesn’t seem right.

—Mitchell Hegman

A Bird and the Busch

Throughout the year, I make a habit of walking down to the lake every couple of days.  I like to check out the condition of the lake—whether the lake is open or covered with ice.   While the ice is now gone from Lake Helena and along the Causeway, I still have ice on my section of the lake.

The other day, while checking the ice around one of my docks, I found a set of large bird prints alongside a discarded Busch Beer can.

I don’t want to make any rush judgments here…but I have been having a lot of problems with misbehaving birds of late.

Drinking Birds?

—Mitchell Hegman

Tidbits

The fourth most googled question every month is: “How to tie a tie?”

The largest padlock in the world weighs 916 pounds.

If your car could drive straight up into Earth’s atmosphere, it would take just one hour to get to outer space driving at 60 mph.

The heart of a blue whale can weigh 1,300 pounds.

In 1916, four years before the Nineteenth Amendment guaranteed the right of women to vote, Montana elected Jeannette Rankin as the first woman to the United States Congress.

The brand name Spam stands for 'spiced ham' and was a name suggested in a competition launched by the Geo. A. Hormel Company in 1937, to find a name for their new product.

Japan has one vending machine for every 40 people.

Lemons float, but limes sink.

—Mitchell Hegman

Sources: Google, bestlifeonline.com, rd.com, etc.

To the Bat House, Mitch!

Bats are not birds.  They are mammals.  They are, furthermore, the only mammal capable of true flight.

I will admit, bats range a little on the creepy side, but the fact they are the only flying mammal leads me to give them special consideration.

Several years ago, I was given a wooden bat house as a gift.  I fastened the bat house to the gable on the east side of my home.

Prior to providing a house for the bats, I regularly found bats clinging to the stucco on the exterior of my house on warm summer nights.  The bats quickly took to using the bat house and were happy as clams (which is a weird simile for this blog).

Yesterday, I arrived home following a rock-hunting excursion and found a northern flicker woodpecker hammering a hole in the bat house.  After shooing the bird, I gathered my tools, a scrap of leftover metal from my sunroom, and I fashioned a quick repair.

Last year, a magpie murdered the female bluebird nesting in the bluebird house in my front yard.  Now this!

Birds are mean.

Save the mammals!

And what, exactly, makes clams happy?

Bat House Damage

My Repair

—Mitchell Hegman

War and Church

A war is no good if you conduct it without the approval of your church.  As it happens, Vladimir Putin can count the Russian Orthodox Church on his side.

Russian Orthodox Patriarch Kirill has been dispensing firm messages of support for the invasion of Ukraine.

“If we see Ukraine as a threat, we have the right to use force to ensure the threat is eradicated,” Patriarch Kirill recently preached to his church’s 90 million faithful followers. “We have entered into a conflict which has not only physical but also metaphysical significance. We are talking about human salvation, something much more important than politics.”

There is speculation that Patriarch Kirill opposed the invasion, but Putin has the same special relationship with the Church Patriarch he has with others in the Russian spotlight.

The special relationship works like this; if you publicly contradict Putin, you experience a mysterious and untimely death.

—Mitchell Hegman

Sources: thedailybeast.com, cruxnow.com

Something Volodymyr Zelensky Said

Following are three quotes from Volodymyr Zelensky, president of Ukraine:

— “It's a victory when the weapons fall silent and people speak up.”

— "I want to do something to change the mistrust towards politicians.”

— " The president can't change the country on his own. But what can he do? He can give an example.”

At the outset of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, President Volodymyr Zelensky was presented an opportunity to flee his country in the name of personal safety.  He famously responded: “I need ammunition, not a ride.”

In the weeks of continuous war following the invasion of Ukraine, Zelensky has proven himself a remarkable and fearless man.  He has lived up to the last two quotes I shared above.

The Ukrainians have proven similarly remarkable.

—Mitchell Hegman

Final Purple

On the 5^th of June, 2021, I created a light chamber inside one of my two trash bins.  Within the chamber I began bombarding three antique bottles with ultraviolet (UV) light.  The manganese dioxide used in the old glass slowly turns the clear glass purple when submitted to long-term UV radiation.

Some upcoming projects at my house will require the use of both of my trash bins.

Yesterday, I retrieved my bottles from the light chamber and reclaimed my bin.

I am posting results of the months-long process.  The bottles have definitely blushed to a deeper shade of violet.  The comparative photographs, fail to properly render color, but the deepening is obvious.

Bottles: June 5, 2021

Bottles: March 22, 2022

—Mitchell Hegman

A Boring Person

Researchers in the United Kingdom—having nothing more productive to do—have determined the most boring type of person in the world.  This is not good news if your job is all about data analysis, you consider sleeping a hobby, and bird watching trips your trigger.

According to what I found at studyfacts.org:

“Researchers from the University of Essex studied more than 500 people across five experiments before crowning the blandest jobs and most boring personality traits and interests. As for hobbies that are sure to put your friends to sleep, results show people who enjoy religion, watching TV, bird watching, and smoking rank as the most boring individuals.”

The top five most boring jobs according to the study:

1. Data Analysis
2. Accounting
3. Tax/insurance
4. Cleaning
5. Banking

The top five most boring hobbies according to the study:

1. Sleeping
2. Religion
3. Watching TV
4. Observing animals
5. Mathematics

—Mitchell Hegman

Source: studyfinds.org (Chris Moore)

Three-Legged Animals

Unable to drive all the way into my cabin due to heavy patchwork accumulations of snow, I hiked the last hundred yards.  Once inside the cabin, I started a fire in the woodstove and sat alongside it, allowing the heat to press its warm nose against me. 

Sitting all alone beside the woodstove got me to thinking.  I first thought about the lodgepole pines around my cabin.  Not much in this world grows so skinny and tall and straight all at once.  They are exceedingly useful in that.  They make perfect poles.  I mean, hello, they are named lodgepole pines.

And then I got to thinking about legs—more specifically, the number of legs critters have.

Having two legs, as opposed to one, makes pretty good sense in matters of mobility and balance.   Four legs strike a nice balance.  Six or eight legs is a little freaky, but I see that working.

But what about centipedes and millipedes?  They seem downright piggish in the leg department.   According to Orkin, a company famous for killing centipedes, a   centipede will have 15 to 177 pairs of legs; dependent on the kind of centipede.

While centipedes are blessed one pair of legs per body segment, millipedes sport two pairs per segment.  Most species of millipede will have 300 legs.  But there is one type of millipede, named Illacme plenipes, that tallies a total leg-count of 750.

That’s a lot of legs.

Finally, I am a little baffled by one thing.  Why don’t we have a bunch of three-legged bugs or animals?   Three is good number.  A three--legged stool is as stable as four-legged one.   A tricycle is plenty stable and maneuverable. 

—Mitchell Hegman

The Road to Construction

The road to construction is littered with…well…litter.

Over the last year or so—thanks to the sale of homesite parcels in the countryside—the road to my house has experienced a sharp increase in the coming and going of construction workers and shop trucks.

A notable increase in litter along the road has accompanied the increase in traffic.  Clearly, construction workers cannot be blamed for all the litter.  At the same time, some litter speaks for itself.

While on my walks in recent weeks, I have picked up a couple aluminum cans, a bottle, and a few more interesting tidbits.

I have posted a photograph of my most recent finds.

Construction Litter

—Mitchell Hegman

The Packet

Desiree and I filed our first document toward acquiring K1 (fiancé) visa for her in December of 2019.  At that time, a typical K1 visa applicant might expect to see the visa issued somewhere between six to eight months later.

Under optimum circumstances the process can be mind-numbing.  Thanks to Covid-19, our application froze in place midway through the year 2020.

The final phase of the visa process is triggered when a visa “packet” is sent from the National Visa Center in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, to the U.S. Embassy in the country from which the K1 visa holder originates.  In our case, the embassy is in Manila.

Following the arrival of the visa packet at the consulate, the person seeking the visa is required to pass a medical examination and then sit for an interview with a consulate representative.  If the interview is successful, the visa will be issued.

We are talking weeks, not months for this stage of the process.

Two days ago—well over two years beyond filing our application—Desiree’s packet was finally sent to Manila.  In simple terms, Miss Desiree will be identifying some of Montana’s alpine wildflowers with me this spring.

—Mitchell Hegman

Green and Blue (First Bluebird)

Yesterday, I saw plenty of green.  Almost everyone I chanced to see wore something green in celebration of St. Patrick’s Day.

The blue?

First, a perfectly clear Montana sky from end to end.

Second, I saw my first bluebird of the year.  The bluebird, a handsome male, swept electric blue across an open field before perching on an overhead line feeding power to a home in the north valley.

Welcome, friend, to spring official.

—Mitchell Hegman

Squeamish

Normally, I appreciate when someone puts forth their full effort on a mission.

The jury is still out on this one.  Actually, I am cringing a little.

On the 8^th of this month, a U.S. citizen driving a truck across the San Ysidro border crossing was caught attempting to smuggle 52 reptiles from Mexico into the U.S.

The live reptiles, 9 snakes and 43 lizards, were not hidden in his truck.  The critters, according to customs agents, were in bags concealed within the man’s jacket, pants pockets, and groin area.

I am generally not squeamish about snakes and lizards, but on this I make notable exception.

—Mitchell Hegman

Source: AP News

For Jennifer, 6, on the Teton

Somewhere in the late 1970s, while browsing through a bookstore in Helena, Montana, I found a collection of his poems titled What Thou Lovest Well Remains American.  Inside the book, written by Richard Hugo, a poet teaching at the University of Montana, I found the most remarkable verses.

Hugo gave voice to the working man.  He wrote poems about drinking in local bars.  He wrote poems about towns, rivers, and places in Montana I knew.

I found myself intrigued.   I stood there in the bookstore reading and reading and reading the book.  Then I turned to a poem titled For Jennifer, 6, on the Teton.  I paused for a long time after reading the first stanza:

“These open years, the river

sings 'Jennifer Jennifer.'

Riverbeds are where we run to learn

laws of bounce and run.

You know moon. You know your name is silver.”

I read the lines again.  And again.  I felt I was reading a kind of music.

I purchased the book.   A week later, I found more books of poems by Hugo.

Today, on the bookshelves in my den, you will find a shelf dedicated to contemporary poetry.  After reading Hugo, I wanted to hear more from other voices.

Simple, gorgeous words.

“You know your name is silver.”    

—Mitchell Hegman

Balikbayan Boxes

Yesterday, I rode to Great Falls with my brother-in-law, Tony, to ship three balikbayan boxes to a destination in the Philippines.  Tony will be boarding a plane later this week and flying to the same destination.

For those of you unfamiliar, the compound word “balik-bayan” means a return to the country.  The corrugated boxes are typically stuffed full of items sent home to the Philippines by Filipinos.  They are transported (sometimes taking many months for travel) by way of cargo ships and are sent for flat rate if weighing 120 pounds or less.

The boxes may hold almost anything (firearms, illicit drugs, and a few other items are not allowed) and most items arrive duty-free if the boxes have been shipped home by Filipinos living overseas.

After dropping off the boxes, we stopped at a small eatery for lunch.  Following our meal, we discovered Tony had locked us out of his truck.  After something a little less than an hour of waiting, a man dispatched by AAA broke into Tony’s truck in less than 2 minutes.

Surpassingly satisfying, that!

By mid-afternoon, we were back at my house and experiencing a full half-hour of spring weather.

—Mitchell Hegman

Hard Water Tubing

I taught a continuing education class for electricians on Saturday.  In doing so, I missed a meeting of the Aluminum Beer Can Melting Guild.  A few minutes after my arrival at home in the late afternoon, a knock fell across my front door.

Upon answering the door, I found Tad.  “Sup?” I queried.

“We have a fire at the lake,” Tad answered.   “And I invented something today.  It’s called hard water tubing.  I pull tubers on the ice behind the four-wheeler.  You need come down to the lake and try it.  It’s better than tubing behind a boat.”

Driving home, I saw a lot of snowmelt water on the surface of the lake ice.  My car registered an outside temperature of 53 degrees.  “I might walk down in a bit.” I suggested.

“You need to go now,” Tad insisted.   “The weather is perfect.  You need to go tubing.  Papa Toad did it.  You can do it.  Do you have goulashes?  You’re going to get wet.”

After a bit more back and forth, Tad sped back down to the lake on the four-wheeler.  A few minutes later, I walked down to join everyone by the fire.

Once there, I agreed to take a run at hard water tubing.  Before my ride, the Aluminum Beer Can Melting Guild provided me with insulated (protective) bibs and a heavy coat—mostly to keep my street clothes comparatively dry.

“You want to watch a video someone hard water tubing before you go?” someone asked me.

“Nope,” I might not go if I see that.”

 After pulling on my tubing-wear, I flopped onto a tube.  Tad and Stacie climbed onto the four-wheeler and flung me out across the patchworks of ice and inch-deep puddles.

I will admit, hard water tubing is riotously fun.  Rather than trying to explain what hard water tubing is like, I have posted a video Tad shared with me.

Hard Water Tubing in Action

—Mitchell Hegman

NOTE:  Hard water tubing is intriguing enough, a couple random ice fishermen asked for a ride.

Setting Clocks

I set my all my clocks forward, as dictated by daylight savings time.  Well, all clocks save one.  I was unable to change the setting for Splash, my 20 pounds of housecat.  As of this morning, he is a little out of sorts thanks to the shift in time.

Splash actually seemed a bit miffed because I roused and fed him an hour early.       

He’ll eventually get comfortable with the shift in time…somewhere near the date when we fall back in time again.

That’s about the same date when I will figure out how to reset the clock in my pickup.

—Mitchell Hegman

Ice Fishing

Ice fishing is not for the faint of heart.  A lot can go wrong.

Posted today is a short video featuring a few ice fishing “incidents.”

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dFcF-iywvwU

Mike Dawes

Is Mike Dawes the world’s greatest living acoustic guitarist? 

I don’t know.

But I know he is excessively cool.

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w6CTRt77JZo

Chicken Soup

Yesterday, three us boys from East Groschell Street in East Helena, Montana, got together at my house to make an industrial-sized batch of chicken soup.  We started prepping a little after 8:00 AM and did not finish until around 4:00 in the afternoon.    

We boiled something near 17 pounds of chicken legs and thighs as a starting point.

After a long boil, we stripped the chicken from the bones and tossed that back in the broth along with 2 bunches of chopped celery, several pounds of carrots, red and orange peppers, 2½ pounds of peas, 2½ pounds of jasmine rice, 1½ gallons of chicken broth, and an assortment of spices.

By the end of the day, we had produced 6 gallons of soup (poured into quart containers).

This proved a great and productive way to spend the closing cold days of winter.

The temperature was cold enough, we left the containers outside to freeze solid overnight.  We will be transferring the frozen soup to freezers later today.

Kevin at Work

Arnold at Work

Vegetables

Soup Cooling Outside

—Mitchell Hegman

A Weird Question

From time to time, I experience something of a voltage dip in my brain.  The net result is a weird question suddenly washing through my thoughts.

This happened only a moment ago.

What, I wondered, would happen if magnetism suddenly failed and vanished for good everywhere?

I imagined all my fridge magnets, family photos, scribble drawings, and my shopping list abruptly sloughing to the floor.  The majority of electrical systems would collapse at once.  Fans, pumps, and most appliances would become inert.  My kitchen knives—presently held on display by a magnetic bar affixed to the wall—would clatter to the counter below.   Electric cars would fail at once.  All others would soon follow.

No planes.

No trains.

Bigger yet, the magnetic field produced by the molten iron in the Earth’s core would no longer protect us from cosmic radiation and from the bombardment of charged particles emitted by the Sun.  And, of course, compasses would have no lines of flux to align with.

I need to say this.   Life without magnetism would suck.

Up next: What if water ran uphill instead of downhill?

—Mitchell Hegman

Local News

In local news:

Ukraine is now local to everywhere on the planet.

I saw a chipmunk (they sort-of hibernate) and a housefly scuttling about on my deck yesterday afternoon.  This morning?  Snow.

I finally wiped nose prints from my 20 pounds of housecat off the glass at my back door.

The last episode of 90 Day Fiancé I watched featured a bride-to-be pleading for a boob job rather than a fancy wedding dress.

In closing, I think the dust bunnies in my laundry room have been mating and producing offspring.  This is worthy of a little scientific study, or, at a minimum, worthy of a little cleaning.

—Mitchell Hegman

Big Fire

For most of us, in particular the males of our species, the universe is not decaying at a rapid enough pace.  We do our best to accelerate the chaos and demolition.  And, I will admit, if fire is the chaos of choice, you can count me in.

Yesterday, my mountain neighbors, Patrick and Mary, burned two large stacks of deadfall they gathered last fall from the forest understory on their parcel.  Not wanting to miss an opportunity to poke at a big winter fire, I drove up to my cabin and later joined them beside the flames.

In matters of winter combustion, I am convinced bigger is better.  Thankfully, Patrick and Mary also adhere to this principle.  The first fire proved spectacular.  We are talking about ten-foot flames scissoring at the sky.  Intense heat squirmed out in all directions.

On the molecular level this kind of bonfire is something akin to a riot at the end of a soccer match between Venezuela and Brazil.  And it doesn’t matter which team won because, frankly, the other team was dismantled, and angry fans pour into a spectacular melee on the field to engage, while others flee over, under, and right through all obstacles in the way to escape.  On a human scale, well, is my shirt smoking and about to burst into flames?

I am pretty proud of my neighbors.  They know how to do a fire.

      

Big Fire

Falling Snow and Bristol (the Dog)

Patrick and a Hole in the Snow (After the Fire)

The Creek (Near the Fire)

—Mitchell Hegman

A Stable Living Arrangement

I have been thinking.  My 20 pounds of housecat and I have been together for seventeen years now.  That equates to nearly a third of my life.  Over the stretch of years, we have eased into a stable living arrangement.  I provide what he needs and do what he wants and we are both happy.

I think Christopher Hitchens said it best:

“Owners of dogs will have noticed that, if you provide them with food and water and shelter and affection, they will think you are God. Whereas owners of cats are compelled to realize that, if you provide them with food and water and affection, they draw the conclusion that they are God.”

—Mitchell Hegman

Words

• Risky: wearing a black shirt when you live with a white cat that sheds.
• You don’t need to have a pretty smile to smile pretty.
• If you stare out the window long enough, you are going to see something weird.
• When you make friends, make them out of something that will last.
• In Montana, we are only once removed from mountain men.

—Mitchell Hegman

Finding Silver

I begin watching for the first bluebird of the season (my official marker of spring) as soon as the calendar flips to March.   I generally spot the first one somewhere near the 15^th of the month.  Following mild winters, I have seen them return to my prairie surroundings as early as the first week of the month.  In 2008, I didn’t see my first bluebird until March 27.

On a trip to and from town yesterday, I scanned all around me as I drove along the ranchland roads, seeking to spot a bluebird.

No such luck.

But I did spot a red-winged blackbird clinging to a cattail near my mailbox.  Not my official harbinger of spring, but a fortuitous sight just the same.

I would say it’s an equivalent to finding silver when you are looking for gold.

—Mitchell Hegman

Best Valentine’s Gift

Somehow, I missed out on the perfect Valentine’s gift this year.  In celebration of the holiday, the Bronx Zoo, for a mere $15.00, allows lovers to name a Madagascar hissing cockroach after their certain someone.

These are not your standard, off-the-shelf roaches.  Madagascar hissing cockroaches can grow to four inches in length.  And they love to climb stuff.

Had I known about this, there might be a special Miss Desiree scuttling around at the Bronx Zoo today.

Apparently, the Bronx Zoo's “Name a Roach” program has been in place for eleven years.

One of this year’s happy Valentine’s Day participants noted (after naming a cockroach), "Roses and chocolates come and go, but roaches last an eternity.”

—Mitchell Hegman

Source: NPR

Not Attractive Enough

So, this happened.  I went shopping for a few items at one of our local big box stores.  I soon found myself with questions as I studied several comparable weather sealants on a shelf before me.  Some fifteen feet or so down the aisle from me I noticed another shopper, an attractive young woman in her twenties.  She also appeared to be comparing items.

Just as I noticed the young woman, two (not one) male store employees appeared nearby and whisked right by me.  They immediately approached the young woman.  “May we help you,” one of the employees sang out.

I studied the three of them, scratching my head.

Maybe if I was ten to fifteen percent more attractive, I could have earned some assistance from at least one of the employees. 

I left the store empty-handed.

—Mitchell Hegman

Weird Ice

Yesterday, given warmer weather, several friends came out to the lake for a day of ice fishing.

They did a lot of fishing, but no catching resulted from that.

A couple weeks ago, I posted a photograph of the strange ice patterns on a section of the lake ice near my lakefront.  

The patterns are a result of fickle weather when the lake surface initially froze.  The first inch or so of ice formed during an arctic impulse.  That ice was partially broken up during a brief warm and windy spell.  The broken ice and open water then refroze quickly, creating the patterns seen today.

Yesterday, the melting ice surface offered a better look at some of the weird ice patters.  I shuffled along the ice and captured a series of images with my smarter-than-me-phone.

Frozen Shards

Frozen Geometric Shapes

“Brother” Mark Susag on the Ice

—Mitchell Hegman