Friday, April 17, 2015

Guest Blogger

I don't think the subject, Dick, or his kids see my blog, but I wanted to share. The author, my friend's daughter, was the babysitter for my daughters in Lincoln many years ago.

Kelly is, like Dick, a bright person. I wanted to share her story about his heart attack, and a shared concern for the monarch butterfly. There is something we can do!! Sorry I can't get the pictures to post, too.


My  Father’s Prairie
 

My husband, Ross likes to say when you’re navigating the rapids, you should paddle for the smooth waters. We are at that stage in life where our parents are aging, and their lives are punctuated by medical crises. The kids are old enough to be on their own, but young enough to not yet be secure. So we try to enjoy the quiet times, knowing that trouble often lurks just around the bend. A few weeks ago, an unexpected phone call from my mother sent me over to western Minnesota, in order to accompany Mom to a Fargo hospital in time for my father’s triple-bypass surgery. Having seen with my mother-in-law that life-saving surgery doesn’t always bring great things, when my Dad was at that point in his surgery that I knew he was on a heart-lung bypass machine, I learned to pray differently.  His heart is in your hands, I said. Please choose what is best.

It’s been quite a journey, since I first saw Dad emerge from surgery, supported by that breathing tube. He had some rocky times, but Dad has a kind of determination that is serving him well, and also a sense of responsibility to my Mom that keeps him trying. Gradually his stamina is improving, as well as his ability to begin to pick up some of his daily tasks.  His interest in life is good to see.

That is perhaps why Ross volunteered to come over and help with some of the chores my father is currently unable to do. At first blush, you might think that some chores could wait for another time. But there are things we care about, the perpetuation of which feeds our well-being. You might say they are medicine for the heart. Maybe that’s why Ross mowed Dad’s prairie for him.

My father’s prairie is a small, lake-side piece of ground upon which my Dad fosters an interesting mix of native plants. Dominated by the prairie cordgrass that originally inhabited this area, Dad has spent years combing the prairie restoration catalogs in order to add a number of other native grasses and forbs. One of my favorites of these is blazing star, or Liatris, the lilac flowers of which pull in the monarch butterflies. On a late summer day, you can see monarchs all over this little patch of ground, flitting from flower to flower as they feed on the nectar.

Many of us grew up with monarchs in our childhood classrooms. The Minnesota State insect, they are perhaps the most familiar of butterflies. With their bright orange and black coloration, most of us have heard of their connection with milkweed. A native wildflower, monarchs have been known to feed on over 27 species of milkweed.  Although monarch butterflies feed on nectar from a variety of flowers, they require milkweeds on which to lay their eggs. The caterpillars hatch, eat the leaves, and ingest the toxin found in the milkweed sap. It makes the caterpillars and butterflies toxic, and taste bad, which cut down on predation. It is believed that birds learn to associate the monarch’s color patterns with an unpleasant dining experience.  The female monarch generally lays 1 egg on a milkweed plant. Over the course of 2 – 5 weeks, she will lay an average of 700 eggs.

Monarchs breed throughout the U.S. and southern Canada. Minnesota monarchs are part of what is known as the eastern population, which migrates to Mexico for the winter. A flight of up to 3,000 miles, the butterflies that make this flight are going to a place neither they nor their parents have ever seen before. Most of the monarchs east of the Rockies converge in the mountains of central Mexico, where they form tight clusters on just a few acres of trees.

After a several months in Mexico, the return north begins. The University of Minnesota’s Monarch Lab website (http://monarchlab.org) provides a detailed description of how the butterflies begin north in March, and lay eggs in northern Mexico and the Southern U.S. Their offspring hatch and fly north a ways, where they lay eggs, the second generation hatches and flies north a ways, and so forth. Hence, theirs is a multi-generational migration on their way north. Our Minnesota butterflies are generations 3 and 4, the great- and great-great grandchildren of those butterflies wintering in Mexico.

Monarch numbers are down over 90% over the past 20 years. There appear to be a number of reasons for this, perhaps chief of which is destruction of key milkweed habitats. In the Midwest, where most monarchs are born, there has been widespread planting of genetically engineered crops. This allows the use of herbicides in corn and soybean fields that kill milkweed. Additionally, increasingly high proportions of the landscape are devoted to such crops, reducing the overall availability of milkweed.

The use of a class of pesticide known as neonicotinoids is also believed to be detrimental to monarch caterpillars. As you plant your gardens this spring, watch for labelling which will help you to determine if your flowers have been treated with this substance.

Besides the milkweed issue, monarchs are threatened by global climate change. The entire winter range in Mexico and large parts of the summer range in the U.S. could become unsuitable for monarchs due to changing temperatures, increased risk of drought, heat waves, and severe storms. If that isn’t enough, logging in Mexican forests where monarchs overwinter has hurt the overall population.

In August of 2014, conservation groups including the Center for Biological Diversity, Center for Food Safety, Xerces Society, and a butterfly expert petitioned the U.S. government to list the monarch as a threatened species. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is currently reviewing that situation.
 
The plight of the monarch is considered to be an indicator of a bigger problem, as the state of the monarch reflects the health of America’s landscapes. In August of 2014, the Chief of the Forest Service finalized memoranda of understanding with the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation and the North American Butterfly Association, recognizing our mutual interest in the conservation and management of pollinators, especially butterflies. Managing public lands in national forests and grasslands, the Forest Service is responsible for managing habitat to maintain populations of threatened, endangered, sensitive, and other species of plants and animals on national forests and grasslands.  By managing for pollinators and their habitats on these lands, we help to ensure conservation of our Nation’s biodiversity and create a healthier environment for both wildlife and people.

There are a number of native species of milkweed on the Chippewa National Forest. The occurrence of these plants generally not proximate to pesticides helps to support the monarch butterflies of our area. Public lands provide an opportunity to increase habitat for monarchs and other pollinators.

If you want to learn more about the conservation of monarchs, or plant milkweed to encourage monarchs on your property, you may want to consult the following websites (www.fws.savethemonarch, www.Xerces.org, www.plantmilkweed.org). It is advised to plant only native milkweeds, and those which specifically have not been treated with pesticides. It is also advised not to plant milkweeds near places where you will be using pesticides. Should you have the interest, you can even click on a map to watch as the spring butterfly migration heads north towards us.
Before Dad’s heart attack, he had put in another order to the prairie restoration place. Just this past week, the box of plant sets arrived. Dad reports they included an unexpected package of milkweed seeds, which I believe my brother will be happy to plant when he comes up for a visit. In future years I hope to find Dad’s prairie will not only serve as a delightful feeding spot for passing monarchs, but also a nursery for the young caterpillars. It will add another dimension to those lovely spring days in Ottertail County.  If Dad develops the interest, maybe he will look into perpetuating milkweed for others to grow, as it is predicted there will be a shortage of milkweed sets as folks catch on to the power of backyard conservation efforts to save this butterfly.

The fringe benefits of having a little bonus time with my folks lately have included watching the return of life to the woods and wetlands that surround them. Sandhill cranes dance and call within hearing distance of my folks’ place. A half a dozen wood ducks zip by, barely above tree line.  A pair of trumpeter swans seems to be nesting in the wetland behind the house, and a ruffed grouse drums in the woods. Our dogs are thrilled by the turkeys. We were there to see the ice go out on the lake, followed by a fascinating knot of a couple dozen coots swimming so close together you could barely see the spaces between them. We wondered about that, until we saw an eagle dive and dive again, hoping for a little coot for breakfast.  Drink it all in, Dad. Spring is a time of renewal, and I think I see smoother paddling ahead.
 
by Kelly Barrett, Wildlife Biologist

Chippewa National Forest

Saturday, March 28, 2015

TURTLES


I received a call a couple of days ago, one of “those calls.” An old friend and correspondent had a heart attack, then by-pass surgery. Fortunately, he lives close to Fargo, North Dakota where there are excellent medical facilities (sometimes called “Little Mayo” because so many of their practitioners are from the Mayo Clinic). Fargo has such a good medical backbone since it is close to Canada. Many patients are Canadians who are sick and can’t get treatment in the model of “single-payer” socialized medicine known as the Canadian system.

Dick once recounted a story, and I can still see the cute grin on his face as he told it, about a fellow he knew who said he was sick of both science and Christianity and was converting to the Native American way of looking at Creation.

“Yeah,” he said, “They believe that the earth is supported on the back of a turtle.”

Dick asked, “What is the turtle standing on?”

There was quite a pause. “Its. Just. Turtles. ALL THE WAY DOWN.”

Haven’t we all used that logic at one time or another?

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Red right returning


Many years ago, my daughter, the one who asked the question “How did Hitler come to power,” asked me what the saying “Red right returning” meant.
What an old convention. The saying was a way of giving a mnemonic device to the way the running lights were arranged on vessels--boats and airplanes.
There are several: the shorter words, red, left and port refer to the left side of a vessel or airplane. The longer words, green, right and starboard refer to the right side of a vessel when viewed from the perspective of the tiller, pilot or the driver.
So, if you see a boat or an airplane coming toward you, it is “red right returning.” Can be valuable to a mariner or aviator.
Pretty valuable if you are in the driver’s seat.
The answer to the first question starting with the Treaty of Versailles and the Weimar Republic is more difficult.
There are a lot of difficult questions, and like so many, the more difficult questions have fewer specific answers.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Meeting Clint Eastwood

I should really be more careful--after passing along the "Kissing Sophia Loren" story, my BIG STORIES may not be so important after all. That has never stopped me yet, so away we go.

This story isn't so much about Clint Eastwood, although dropping a name like that in the headline got you to read a little, didn't it? We were living in San Carlos, California, I worked at the old Navy airbase in Alameda and Linda worked in Silicon Valley and then in "the city." My boss was asked to attend a Republican fund raiser sponsored by Clint Eastwood at his Tehama Country Club in Carmel-by-the-Sea. He couldn't go (or didn't want to, which is more the case) and asked us to attend.

We paid our ridiculous price and stood around making small talk to people who we would never see again when Clint Eastwood entered the room. All the women (and these gals were no spring chickens) bee-lined for him and you expected to hear squeals like in high school. FYI, Clint is really, really skinny and he looks old. Really, really old. Wish I had another word for "really." His face is lined, and then there is that tall, really, really, TALL skinny body. And this was in 2002. Can't imagine what he looks like now. Probably still skinny and TALL...and old.

He didn't stay long at the party, so the girls settled down and we were seated for dinner. Linda sat next to a gentleman who owned a chain of facilities that provided physical therapy and I sat next to his wife. I was not involved in much of Linda's conversation, but she found him to be interesting, charming, Greek and rich. His wife was...well, she was just drunk. Really, really drunk.

One part of the conversation I overheard was him telling Linda about the secret of his marriage. "Oh?" "Yes, it's what I do for her in bed." "OH?" "Every morning," pause, "I bring her a cup of Turkish coffee in bed." "oh".

He told her about building his house on Seventeen Mile Drive which wraps around the famous golf course, Pebble Beach. He complained about the cost of the door hinges, which was probably justified as he quoted something along the lines of $200 apiece...not per door, EACH!! And he was upset because they wanted him to decide whether to use 4" or 6" hinges because, justifiably in my opinion, HE DIDN'T CARE! The landscaping for the caretaker's house ran over a million dollars, and that didn't even start on the main house which was torn down and was in the process of being rebuilt from the ground up.

Many times, I have said, "Only in America." His story is one of them as he grew to maturity in a poor, dirt-floor shack in Greece and somehow made it to America where he gained his fortune. We think he may have been in the Olympics, but not sure on that part.

Another world, for sure, but because Linda charmed him as well, we were later invited to Easter brunch at one of their friends, another Greek man. That was a truly lovely morning, not exactly on Easter as they observe Easter on a different weekend since they use the Orthodox calendar. We enjoyed the people, the customs (like tapping red-dyed hard-boiled eggs with a partner, you get your wish if you break their egg) and dining on a whole lamb roasted on an outdoor spit. Ironically, the wife of the household was from rural Kansas. Who knew?!?

The gentleman from the original dinner party was, again, charming, sociable and welcoming. He was still rich and his wife was, again, drunk. I'm going to guess she had a problem.

Soon after all this, we moved back to Kansas City and have not seen nor heard from those terrific people. Nor have we celebrated another Orthodox Easter. Hope they are all doing well.

Like Sophia Loren who wouldn't remember the kiss, I'll bet Clint Eastwood doesn't value this episode as much as we do. Ah, yes, California.

Friday, March 13, 2015

KISSING SOPHIA LOREN


Joe Posnanski writes so well. Such a talent, and today he posits that the “Miracle on Ice” is the most important sporting event in the United States…EVER! His logic is good, his writing (have I told you how much I admire his writing before??) is good as ever. I think this stuff just pours out of him, too.

How do you get from a discussion of the US hockey victory in 1980 to Sophia Loren? Then, to kissing Sophia Loren? The circuitous route describes the important concept of perspective on the part of the writer/observer.

Take a look at Joe’s blog entry, it is worth it.  http://joeposnanski.com/kissing-sophia-loren/

As you probably suspected, I am going to describe it to you, anyway.

Joe makes a good case for the importance of that US victory on ice and the lasting taste which I will allow you to observe on your own, but the perspective part of writing, the unique point of view, is illustrated by the story excerpted below:

Jon [Hock, filming a documentary on the Miracle from the Russian point of view] asked him [Kulushkin, the Russian sports writer] what his game story looked like the day after the Miracle. Kulushkin seemed confused by the question. What was in it? Game details. It was a short story. The United States had won. When asked if he had included all of the drama (it was, beyond the significance, an amazing game), Kulushkin asked, "What is the drama?" And then he said this:
"Once a crazy kid kissed Sophia Loren. And he's telling for the rest of his life, 'Oh, I kissed Sophia Loren.'"
Dramatic pause.
"Ask Sophia Loren if she remembers."
Another dramatic pause.
"Different point of view."
I love everything about this quote. I love the imagery of it, of course. I love the small but visible bitterness that still lingers in it. I love the unintentional way that he reveals how painful that loss was.
I was in Los Angeles the day the US beat the Russians in hockey. Not a hockey fan then or now, but that sticks in my memory like the day Kennedy was assassinated. I join Joe in lauding the story. Lesson for us all: let the punch line linger in our minds each time we foist OUR important event on others.