Calling In a Blizzard

Two days ago, in anticipation of a long-expected turn to legitimate spring weather, Desiree purchased a couple raspberry bush starts.

Yesterday a huge blizzard side-swiped us.

A timing coincidence? 

I have my doubts.

Our Latest Blizzard at Work

—Mitchell Hegman

Litter Collection (Continued)

Yesterday, I picked up litter along the first quarter-mile of Lake Helena Drive extending south from the causeway   The number of beer cans I collected astounded me.  I considered counting the cans once I arrive back home and separated them for recycling, but I quicky realized the large number would serve only to further irritate me.

I found nothing of value along the roadway.

Just cans and bottles.

One 50-foot section of road yielded piles of Coors cans.  The work of a serial litterbug.

Now, nearly 24 hours beyond collecting the litter, I am far more disappointed and hurt than I am angry.

My Collection of Trash

—Mitchell Hegman

Lost But Not Found

I lost my wedding band. 

I lost it the same day I collected litter from alongside Lake Helena Drive.  The band has slipped off my finger on a few previous occasions while I was doing such things as digging in the ground to plant something or washing dishes.

Logic suggested I lost the band while collecting cans and bottles from the barrow pit and immediate area beyond the roadway.

Yesterday, following that logic I, Desiree, and my mountain neighbors Patrick and Mary scoured the half-mile stretch of road I cleaned.  Patrick and I used metal detectors.  The girls kicked along beside us.

After two hours of thoroughly surveying my entire path, we came up with no more than a rusty pair of pliers, a handful of electrical fittings, and more aluminum cans.

I am literally uncomfortable without the ring on my finger.  My hand feels strange in a way I cannot describe.

Lake Helena and Patrick Alongside the Road

Patrick Working His Detector

—Mitchell Hegman

Unknown Project, Part 2

I recently shared a post about sawing sections from the trunks of a few juniper trees (per Desiree’s instructions) for use in an upcoming project of hers.

Well, it turns out we are talking about many projects. 

Posted is a photograph of the beginnings of one such project.

I don’t know exactly what it is yet and Desiree has not yet started finishing the wood, but I like it.

Finally, I tossed the fiber material on the branches just because I could.  In the end Desiree figures tumbled glass in the design.

Unknown Project

—Mitchell Hegman

A Giving Neighbor

I think having a generous neighbor is largely a good thing.  I mean, a neighbor who brings you a decent bottle of single malt Scotch or maybe provides a free dinner now and then is nothing to squawk about.

But there might be a few lines we don’t want to see crossed in the realm of giving.

Maybe a neighbor giving you an outside plant that turns out to be an invasive species isn’t so great.  You may similarly have room to question a neighbor giving you a kitten produced by their psycho barn cat.

And then we have this.  The other morning my neighbor, Kevin, arrived at my door and gave a machete to Desiree.

And she seemed weirdly happy about it.

What is that? 

 

Desiree With Her Machete and Kevin in Sinister Light

—Mitchell Hegman

Another First

Yesterday, we celebrated the arrival of spring in the form of my first bluebird sighting.

Today, we mark something a bit less auspicious.  While traipsing about in some of last year’s tall grasses just off Lake Helena Drive picking up winter’s array of litter (mostly aluminum cans), the fist wood tick of the season attached itself to my collection bag.

I’m going to say this out loud: “Wood ticks suck.”

End of blog.

The Tick

—Mitchell Hegman

First Bluebird

I finally spotted my first bluebird of the year – a pair of them, actually.  Their signature scissoring, veering flight pattern first garnered my attention.  Soon enough, they started sizing up the bluebird house I planted just off my driveway.

I hope they make that their summer home and raise a brood of little ones there.

Only one thing is certain, spring has officially arrived here at my northern prairie home, carried on the wings of a pair of songbirds.

—Mitchell Hegman

One Option

If one option is soaking in the hot tub while watching the night sky in the midst of a meteor shower, I really don’t need any other options.

—Mitchell Hegman

Famous Son

Garth Brooks achieved extraordinary success and fame in the music industry.  His popularity extended far beyond his country music base.  He is second only to the Beatles in music sales worldwide.  In spite of his fame, Garth always strove to “stay real” and keep close to his family.  He walked away from music for more than a decade, at the height of fame, for the express purpose of raising his three girls.

Garth grew up with a brother and four half-siblings.  He was particularly close to his mother and she played a big role in keeping him grounded.  He fondly tells the story of when someone, while talking to his mother stated, “You must be very proud of your son” to which she immediately responded: “Which one?”

—Mitchell Hegman

Profile Picture

I swear, the simplest tasks are sometimes the ones that throw you off-track the most.

I need a profile picture of myself for an upcoming business-related project.

Simple, right?

Well, no.

To make a long story short, Desiree and I spent the better part of two hours bouncing around the house trying to find the best light and background, taking dozens of photographs in the process.  While we found good light in several rooms (I also have a couple photography lights I use when video recording online training), the backgrounds did not please us.

Eventually, we found the perfect background but in the absolute most difficult spot in the house; the den.

The den is difficult because it is presently filled from top to bottom with the furnishings from a bedroom we are remodeling.  After settling me in my office chair at my desktop computer, Desiree scrambled up into the pile of bedroom furniture – alongside a photography light we pitched there – to bracket a few images.

Following several runs at adjusting my position and changing the balance of lighting, Desiree finally captured an image we liked.

Me Amid Piles of Stuff

The Final Image

—Mitchell Hegman

Not a Bluebird

Spring equinox occurred yesterday, marking the official arrival of spring.  But in my way of thinking spring is legitimate only when bluebirds return from overwintering far south of here.

I have been looking for them, but no bluebirds just yet.  They are late this year, thanks, I am guessing, to lingering abnormally cold weather.

Yesterday, however, I did spot three red-winged blackbirds clinging to some cattails at a (mostly frozen) pond we pass when driving though the ranchlands to reach the broad valley beyond.   Spotting red-winged blackbirds is a near equivalent to seeing the first bluebird.

Red-winged blackbirds are another migratory bird.  They breed in wetlands and marshes across North America.  During the winter, they migrate to the southern United States, Mexico, and Central America.

Red-winged blackbirds are omnivorous. During the breeding season (read summer here), they primarily feed on insects.  During the winter, their diet shifts to include seeds, fruits, and grains, which they may forage from agricultural fields or wetland habitats.

Bluebirds share the same diet.

Arriving to our unseasonable and “insectless” cold, I am hoping the red-winged blackbirds manage to forage something else, but leave a little for my bluebirds.

—Mitchell Hegman

Photo: Wikipedia

The Shocking Blue Mistake

One of my favorite songs from the 1970s is “Venus” by Shocking Blue, a Dutch rock band that formed in The Hauge in 1967.

Venus topped the charts in several countries in 1970.  Shocking Blue was notable for being one of the first Dutch bands to achieve international success, paving the way for other Dutch acts like Golden Earring and Focus.

Among the more interesting facts about the song Venus is that the vocalist, Mariska Veres, could not speak English at this time and was singing phonetically.  This led to a mistake that still stands on the popular original recording.

According to Songfacts: “The group's guitarist Robbie Van Leeuwen wrote this song. The group is from The Netherlands, which led to an interesting translation problem when Shocking Blue lead singer Mariska Veres sang the English lyrics. Van Leeuwen wrote the first line down incorrectly: what was supposed to be "A goddess on the mountain top" he wrote as "A goddness on the mountain top," and that's exactly how Veres sang it. Most listeners didn't notice, and the many cover versions corrected the error, but the result was a #1 hit with a misspoken first line thanks to a typo.”

Listen carefully to the first line sung on the video I have posted and then enjoy the rest of the ride.

—Mitchell Hegman

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

Montana, the Most Polite State

Social researchers, once again having nothing better to do, undertook another weird study.  This time they wanted to compare the politeness of our fifty states.

The research, conducted by WordFinder, collected Google Trends search data from each state to determine which parts of America most often search the web using polite words and phrases. In addition, they measured the most-searched compliments and terms of endearment.

Montana ranked as the most polite state.

Here in Montana, 270,000 of our searches per 100,000 residents in the past year included polite terms, especially “please.”

Dead last in terms of politeness: California.

Californians conducted a mere 10 searches including polite terms per 100,000 residents.

Well, California, that sounds a little demanding, thank you.

—Mitchell Hegman

Little Things

Little things bother me.

While flailing about on the internet, I chanced upon a perfect example of this in the form of an article about the New Mexico Department of Game and Fish seeking conservation officers.

No, conservation officers don’t bother me.

It is the department of “game and fish” that gets me. The title is just wrong.  A department of “fish and game” makes more sense.  It rolls off the tongue better.  And, hello, “f” is before “g” in the alphabet, so let us stick with that.

I am proud to say we have a Montana Department of Fish, Wildlife and Parks.  That seems in proper order to me – alphabetical order or not.

Sadly, our immediate neighbors, Wyoming and North Dakota, also have departments of game and fish.

You might expect that from North Dakota.   But Wyoming?

—Mitchell Hegman

Desiree and the Chickadee

Three chickadees hung around my house throughout the long winter.  Some weeks ago, I started feeding them crushed walnuts on a near daily basis.  Rather than using a birdfeeder, which lures in more birds than I care to deal with, I place handfuls of nuts on the brick ledge around my house whenever I see the chickadees flitting about.

One chickadee is particularly bold and will readily land on my hand to pick up a morsel to eat.  That particular bird also makes a point of fluttering up and landing somewhere nearby me when I am outside for any reason.

The other day when I stepped outside while carrying a bucket in my right hand, the chickadee looped around my head and then landed on the rim of the bucket as I held it by my side.

“You must need breakfast,” I said to the bird.  “Hang on, I’ll get you something.”  When the chickadee fluttered off and dropped onto the brick ledge a few feet away, I trotted back in the house to get a handful of walnuts.

Desiree also enjoys feeding the chickadees.  I have posted a photograph of our bold chickadee friend taking a walnut from her hand.

Desiree and the Chickadee

—Mitchell Hegman

List of Things That May or May Not Be as Bad as They Sound

• Fungicide
• A broken seal
• Current probes
• Fenugreek
• Vampire loads
• Witch hazel
• p-traps
• March madness
• Public speaking
• Hoodoo formations
• A snippet

—Mitchell Hegman

Notes #1: Fenugreek is a weird spice (for some reason I have a small bottle of fenugreek seeds in my spice rack).

Notes #2: Vampire loads are constant loads sucking power on your electrical system – such things as LED lights or clocks on appliances.

The Unknown Project

I am hard at work on a new project with Desiree.  The most interesting aspect of this project is that I have no idea what we are producing.  I am merely day-labor.  Desiree is in charge of design and manufacture and she is working on the fly on this one.

As a starting point, Desiree asked me to chainsaw two-inch-thick sections from a couple trunks of western juniper.  The shape, grain, and colors presented by juniper are wildly variant and always stunning.

Honestly, I don’t object to only providing labor.  Desiree rates a ten out of ten in terms of creativity.  I am excited to see what we make in the end.

I have posted three photographs of our early work.

Our Far-Flung Project Mess

A Juniper Cut

A Juniper Cut

—Mitchell Hegman

Walls of Snow

Yesterday, Desiree and I drove to the cabin for a day by a bonfire with our mountain neighbors.  Late winter storms have layered something near four feet of snow on the ground in the mountain valley there.

Our far-north winters can be long and sometimes brutally cold, but our snow-covered landscapes verge on otherworldly stunning.  We drove the final miles to the cabin under a bluebird sky.   Where struck by the morning sun, the snow absolutely sparkled.  The green pine and fir trees cast fine blue shadows across the brilliant white expanses.

I stopped once so we could hop from the truck and take a few photographs of the walls of snow on each side of the road.

After snowshoeing around the cabin for a bit, we spent the rest of our day beside a fire, chatting, shedding layers of clothing, and allowing the sun to fully embrace us.

The Road In

Desiree Near a Wall of Snow

Desiree by the Fire

—Mitchell Hegman

The Other End of the Rails

The other day, as I drove over the rail crossing at Carter Drive, a memory surged through me.  I recalled, from over fifty years ago, crossing Carter Drive while walking along the same railroad rails.  At the time, I was taking driver’s education at Helena High.  Following my class one late afternoon, I found myself stranded without a ride home.  Rather than fussing with trying to arrange a ride to East Helena, I opted to strike the rail tracks a few blocks away and walk straight home following them.

I lived with my grandparents at the time and their house stood only a few yards off the tracks some four or five miles to the east.     

I truly enjoyed the walk home that evening.  I recall how it gave me a new perspective on entire cloud-crossed valley.

Looking down along the long, empty rails as I crossed over the other day, I not only recalled the walk home.  I also remembered the comforting feeling of trotting across the open field between the rail tracks and my home when I finally reached it.

Someone said you can never go home again.

But you can.

—Mitchell Hegman

A Mermaid Minute

Weather permitting, Desiree and I soak in our outdoor hot tub early in the morning – long before sunrise for much of the year.  Only temperatures below 5 degrees and high winds will dissuade us.

Typically, we jump in the water and allow the all-pervading warmth to embrace us for a minute or two before I punch on the circulating jets.  The jets run on a ten-minute timer.  Desiree is usually pretty disappointed when the jets time out because it means we need to get out.  She has become dizzy and disorientated on two occasions when we remained in the tub for much longer.

Really, neither us want to climb from the tub right away.  To accommodate ourselves, I give us a “mermaid minute.”  I start the jets so we can float around for a minute or two more before manually shutting them down so we can climb out and begin the rest of our day.

A mermaid minute makes all the difference.

—Mitchell Hegman

Trying a New Approach

Obviously, Montana felt miffed when I sniveled (in the form of yesterday’s blog) about not having appropriate (read “warm” here) spring weather.  Only a few hours after I posted my complaints, heavy snows fell around my house.  By the time the storm vacated the valley I had six inches of fresh snow and temperatures nearly thirty degrees colder than normal for the day of the year.  

Today, I will apply reverse phycology and say something nice about the snow in hopes I might encourage better (once more: warmer) weather.  

Here it is: I want to thank the snow for falling outside my house yesterday – that’s way better than falling inside it.

Outside My Back Door

—Mitchell Hegman

Lemon Tree Update #2

In theory, spring is around the next corner.  I should say, more accurately, the calendar indicates we are moving in the direction of spring.  Unfortunately, Montana did not receive the memo about raising the daily temperatures appropriately.

We have been outright cold here.  Yesterday, for example, our temperatures landed something near 20 degrees colder than normal for the date.

Still, I have one ray of hope: my lemon tree.      

A month ago, I reported on the progress of the lemon tree Desiree started from seed last fall.  I am happy to announce that the tree is responding well to the additional light provided by our lengthening northern days.  It has nearly doubled in height since the first report.

I am (once again) posting a photograph of the tree alongside a Cold Smoke beer as a reference for size.  In a few years, I may be plucking fresh lemons from a tree right here in my own house.  If nothing else, I will enjoy a Cold Smoke each time I log a report.

My Lemon Tree

—Mitchell Hegman

Mitch Meets a Chatbot

I have been reading a lot about ChatGPT, the artificial intelligence chatbot developed by OpenAI and launched in last November.  Yesterday, I tried ChatGPT for myself.

Logging in for a chat is easy.  All you need to do is provide an email address, a name, and a cellphone number for second-level verification when you jump in.  Interacting with the bot is easy, you simply chat with it as you would a person.

I have read predictions that chatbot will quickly replace Google as the go-to place for information.  Having conducted several queries, I can see that.  Answers proved clear, concise, and filled with the detail I wanted.   You can also ask ChatGPT to write something for you.  Posted below is a blog I asked for:

My question to ChatGPT:

Can you write me a humorous 100-word blog explaining why the color blue is better than red?

ChatGPTs response (in less than thirty seconds):

Why is blue better than red, you ask? Well, let's think about it. Blue is the color of the sky, the ocean, and the best flavor of Gatorade. Red, on the other hand, is the color of angry faces, stop signs, and that weird cherry-flavored medicine your mom used to make you take. Plus, when was the last time you heard someone singing about how they're feeling so blue and depressed that they're seeing red? That's right, never. So, if you want to be on the winning team, go blue. We have cookies. And Gatorade.

Pretty good stuff for under thirty seconds. 

At the same time, chilling.

—Mitchell Hegman

Avalanche Gulch

Desiree and I took a drive to Avalanche Gulch just off the east shore of Canyon Ferry Reservoir.  As a boy and on into my teens, I hunted deer with my father and grandfather in both Avalanche and Hellgate Gulch.  I have always loved the crazy, steep rock formations and the pines uprighting along the talus slopes and clinging to the jumbled rock upheavals themselves.

We encountered a band of mountain goats just before the mouth of the gulch.   After Desiree captured a video of the goats, we walked a short distance into the canyon on the narrow, icy road leading into the heart of the Big Belt Mountains.  Walking into the canyon I could “feel” the ancient cliffs towering around me in something akin to a sixth sense.  This is a strange but pleasant sensation, one I felt as a boy when entered the canyon, one I crave from time to time.

Mountain Goats

The Flume at Avalanche Gulch

Desiree in the Canyon

—Mitchell Hegman

Don’t Try This at Your Job

I am by nature a curious person.  At the same time, I am a moron.  This can be an unfortunate combination.  I recall, for example, the time I wondered if I could jump my motorcycle over a deep excavation hole by launching off the mound of dirt created alongside it.

Short answer: no.

Posted is a brief but shocking video of a man who (similarly) should not have yielded to his curiosity.  I am somewhere near 60% certain I would not have tried what this guy did.

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SM-yqtSU2zg

The Voice in My Head

Instead of having voice in my head that told me to push my little sister into the lake or stick my tongue on a frozen metal pole, it would have been nice to have a voice that told me to stop wearing paisley print shirts.

—Mitchell Hegman

An Accurate Prediction

Carl Sagan was an American astronomer, planetary scientist, cosmologist, astrophysicist, astrobiologist, and prolific writer.  In 1995 he penned a prediction about America in the future.  His prediction has proven to be remarkably accurate. 

Posted is a short video revealing Sagan’s prediction.

—Mitchell Hegman

Video Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7Oh8ymKmtg

The Spot

After a quick trip to the laundry room to retrieve a towel, I found Desiree in the kitchen and said: “Des, there is a spot on the floor in the laundry room that keeps getting me.  When it catches my eye, I think I need to grab a paper towel so I can clean it up.  The problem is, it isn’t a spot on the floor, it’s part of the pattern for the tile.”

An expression of surprise fell across Desiree’s face.  “I have a spot in there, too!   I do the same thing!”

“Okay, you need to go in there and show me your spot.”

Together, we marched into the laundry room.  Once there, Desiree walked up to the washing machine and pointed out a spot nearby.

“I knew you were going to point that out,” I told her.  “That’s the same spot that gets me.”  I laughed.  “It catches your eye.”

Desiree Pointing Out the Spot

—Mitchell Hegman

Taking Stock

My partner in an ongoing technical writing project doesn’t like me when I make late editorial changes.

The horses locked in small pens don’t appreciate me smiling in my happiness as I drive by them on my way home.

The frumpy clerk at Lowes is upset with me because of my recent defective product return.

Prabkeerat What’s-His-Face didn’t like me when I told him I understood less than half of what he said when I called for help with a computer.

But the chickadees living in the trees outside my door like me because I feed them crushed walnuts and having them liking me is enough to tip the balance in my favor.

—Mitchell Hegman

The Parrot

The Parrot Confectionary has been operating in downtown Helena since 1922.  What makes this especially interesting is that little has changed in the way the place operates.  The business remains family-owned and they still produce hand-made candies and chocolates.

By some weird twist of fate, my dentist has an office next to The Parrot.  The two places are close enough, you could easily throw rock from my dentist’s building and strike the building in which The Parrot is located.

That said, I am of a mind a rock should be chucked at my dentist instead, but that is a tale for another day.

Also, for some inexplicable reason, Desiree (who is normally without a clue as to her exact location in Helena), knows when we approach within six or seven blocks of The Parrot from any direction.

Yesterday, I took Desiree to her first appointment with my dentist.  Obviously, if we are close enough to throw a rock at The Parrot, Desiree knows where we are and we need to stop in to buy a few goodies.

I am fine with that.  It is the anti-dentist thing to do.

Desiree at The Parrot’s Candy Display

—Mitchell Hegman

1,500 Brownie Points

I earned 1,500 brownie points yesterday.  That’s a personal record.

Brownie points, for those unfamiliar, are an arbitrary (and imaginary) form of reward issued for doing good stuff.  In this instance, I awarded them to myself for brilliance in foresight.

If you live in Montana, heating your house is a big deal.  Only a week ago we experienced sub-zero temperatures.  You definitely need heat with temperatures like that knocking at your door.

My main source of heat is a propane-fired hydronic boiler.  The boiler is presently 32 years old and occasionally requires a little tender loving care.  More than a year ago, I noticed that the blower fan for the propane exhaust system sometimes issued a queep when initially called to run.  I felt certain the fan was tipping toward failure at some not-too-distant point.

Finding parts (think ‘fan’ here) and getting them shipped to me is difficult and takes days.   As a proactive measure, I found a blower replacement kit online and had it shipped to me.  The kit has been collecting dust in my garage in the time since.

A few weeks ago, the fan’s queep transitioned to a pronounced vreeeeeeeeeep!  Yesterday, upon finding the house a bit chilly, I trotted back to the laundry room to check on the boiler there.

Not good.  The blower fan had finally locked up entirely and the motor was humming angrily in opposition.

In less than five minutes, I had tools and the blower kit in front of the boiler.  And within an hour I earned 1,500 brownie points by fully installing the replacement blower.

My Boiler

—Mitchell Hegman