Whatcha doin', Eric?

Oh, nuthin'... Just building Nora Lee a chicken coop! Day 1: Eric and Suma have demo'd and graded the site. I swung a sledge hammer and wrecked things. It rocked.

Day 2: Eric and Carl have obtained, through a variety of means, a large quantity of lumber. They are placing the last of the stringers. Thanks, Carl!

Day 3: The day dawned bright and beautiful on the platform for our chickens. Unfortunately, Day 3 consisted largely of more materials acquisition, Nora doing the Chicken Dance on the platform and some colorful swearing. I did not get pictures of any of these events. At the end of Day 3, we have a framed south wall! Due to swim lessons, it was not photographed. Sorry.

Wondering about the seemingly excessive size of the coop? I just bet you are. In Duluth, we are allowed to have five (5) hens for laying purposes. One does not strictly need a coop this large for five (5) hens. However, it turns out that it gets a touch chilly here for a couple months of the year. We have to leave room for better insulation than existed in my first 3 apartments.

Also, in a coop that would be perfectly adequate in 90% of America, those five (5) hens are going to get really, really fatalistically bored during that time. Sure, they'll be warm, but they won't be happy. And they have a tendency to take it out on each other in random acts of flock-related violence. But chickens dislike cold feet. I'm not kidding. They won't walk on snow even to prevent poultricide.

So our solution is as follows. The warm, snuggly, "The Shining"-like rage-inducing coop will take up less than a quarter of the volume of the structure. The rest of it is a winter room. It is enclosed, but not insulated. The floor will be covered in sand. It is purely recreational, but very important. (Random aside: Nora's daycare has this indoor playground called a "muscle room." It exists for similar reasons. -30 temperatures aren't good for children and other living things. Who knew?)

So that's it. How I spent my week's vacation. Good times!

Tall Ships, Part 3 (For Old Time's Sake)

Just for kicks, I thought I would post this little comparison shot.
Oh, how times change.

Before: May, 2008 (Fifteen months)

After: August. 2010 (3 1/2 years)

Tall Ships, Part 2 (Nana Version)

Yes, yes. I do have a child who occasionally makes it to the foreground of a picture. And I actually took some pictures of her and her cousin, Bella this weekend. I know- shocking.

They had a wonderful time at the Tall Ships Festival. The Tweed Museum of Art had set up a free craft area. Here they are working hard on some beading.




They also both climbed the rock wall.


When did Nora get old enough to do this? Also, please note that she is climbing a rock wall in a helmet, full body harness and sundress.

Here they are riding cement ponies while waiting in a long line to get onto the ships.

They were awesome and had an awesome time. Hooray, Tall Ships!

Tall Ships

This past weekend began with a frantic call from Eric, informing me that he and his mountain bike had parted ways at 20+ mph and he was headed to the emergency room. Luckily (and it is luck), he and the tree are both fine. The tree is finer, of course, not having ribs to break and elbows to bleed into.

In spite of that, the weekend turned out pretty okay. The Tall Ships came into Duluth and while Daddy was in a Vicodin-induced haze on the couch, Tammy and Bella joined us to tour the ships. Tammy was kind enough to allow me to use her camera, which is like mine only better. That's right. I'm officially coveting the newer model.

I, along with 200 000 other people who visited the event, got this requisite picture:

No, you're a dinghy!

Look closely at this next one. The name of the saltie is "American Integrity." Mmmm...delicious, delicious irony.

And, my personal favorite from the weekend:

And, yes, Mother. As soon as I post this one, there will be one chock-full of tasty children. I promise.

Pinchworm

Nora made a new friend this weekend. He was hitch-hiking on some greens that I brought in from the garden and narrowly avoided being washed down the sink. She was tickled by him and his mode of locomotion. She also couldn't understand why something called a "pinchworm" wasn't hurting her.

After letting Nora torment the poor guy for about an hour, I made her release him back into the yard. She wanted to get pictures of him first, just like with Karist. I thought that sounded reasonable.

She begged me to print this picture out for her, so that she could show her friends at school. She also has an elaborate plan to put up pictures of various things (pinchworms, moths, seals, pandas) on her walls. I see a bulletin board in our future.

The Edge of the World

I went to the Boundary Waters recently with a group of women. It was the first time I have ever vacationed without both my husband and child since they came into my life.

It. Was. Awesome.

It was so awesome, in fact, that I had time to take some pictures of things other than [cough] my husband and child. Looking those pictures over made me rethink my previous assertions that we don't in fact live on the verge of the tundra.

Exhibit A: A Plethora of Lichens

Exhibit B: Sunset through the Mossy Trees (at 10:00 pm)

Exhibit C: Moose Skull

Shall I go on?

OK, so maybe it is Canada's distal phalanx. But it's magical. And then, there is always this.

Go ahead. You know you want to click on it. (Thanks, Cindy!)

Northern Summer Begins

The summer has arrived! The Lauer family just returned from a camping, canoeing and fishing trip into the North woods with friends. It was a whole lot of good times. It was our first camping trip since Nora was born. In fact, it was our first camping trip since medical school. For those of you who are counting, that means it has been six years since I slept in a tent. Sad, but true.

Nora in particular was delighted to sleep in a tent, not take baths and play with leeches. There were also a number of other kids, far more seasoned in camping and fishing to teach her the ways of the woods.


Each girl had a whistle to blow in case they got lost in the woods around camp, saw something dangerous or fell in the lake. The adults tried valiantly to explain this concept to Nora.

Adult: Would you blow your whistle if you are hungry?
Nora: No.
Adult: Would you blow your whistle if you get bitten by a bug?
Nora: No.
Adult: When would you blow your whistle?
Nora: If I see a panda bear!
Adult: Ummm, no.

We tried to educate Nora on the natural history of the panda. No luck.

We tried to tell her about the lack of large bamboo forests in Northern Minnesota. She was skeptical.

We tried to compromise and teach her about black bears, a reasonable alternative that does actually live near there. Nope.

We finally gave up and told her that if she sees any big, scary animal, she should blow her whistle.

The one time that she probably thought she should be blowing the darn thing was right before we left and it was nowhere to be found. This event was captured in the following picture, involved a large amount of shrieking and will henceforth only be referred to as The Great Poop Incident of 2010. (There was another picture of this, but it would get me kicked off of Blogspot.)

They did make up once Nora was in warm, dry, clean clothes and in her car seat. She got nice and sleepy on the way home and right before she dropped off to sleep, I looked back and she was contentedly looking out at the forest and lakes going by outside. It was a gorgeously clear day, I was with my family and we were headed back to a home we love. Suddenly, Nora sat straight up and said...

"I see a panda! Where's my whistle?!?"