Minnesota: Our Quality of Life

-18 right now....going to minus 25 by morning for sure. The lady I live with stayed home from yoga tonight because it's so damned cold. She read a yoga book instead. It's that wisdom that first attracted me to her 40 years ago. The pug is a real warrior, venturing out into the hostile weather to pee, coming in to warm up, then out again to finish his business. What a trooper.

Kudos also to Tom Larson, who's been dealing with the snow shovel/snow blower duties for us, as I'm not suppose to lift a finger for a while. So far it's only cost me a few extra cups of coffee. Good neighbor, good man.

White Cane - Vision Redux

I'm exhausted. I spent the day at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester; 3 1/2 hours in a dark room, with both eyes being lasered by two doctors working alternately. I had 11 retinal tears which all needed to be repaired by laser tacks. It's painful and tiring - metal devices pushing on the backside of the eyeball, my eyes pried open, while trying to "look down and to the left, no further left, further, good, now don't move"' (with nothing to actually focus on) - then zap, zap , zap with the blinding light. Again and again and again. By the time they were finished I was so exhausted I was on the verge of tears.

Follow up next Monday.

White Cane, Anyone?

I seem to have hit the Ocular Trifecta. In additional to macular degeneration and cataracts, I now have a retinal tear - a detached retina. The only link between my maladies seems to be D.O.E. - Damned. Old. Eyes. I talk to a surgeon on Tuesday, hopefully just some laser tacks around the tear.

I can't see for shit, but I'M STILL DRIVING MY LITTLE PICKUP! I'm planning on being one of those old guys that drives 12 miles an hour, sideswiping cars, terrifying pedestrians and rear-ending SUVs. They'll have to pry my blind, cold fingers from the wheel. Actually, Lorna drove us down to the Elbow Room for cheeseburgers and fried onions last night. The impressionist painter halos around the street nights and headlights are getting distracting - awfully pretty though. Christmas lights are amazing!

As dire as all this may sound, the macular degeneration is actually still minor, and the other two can be repaired with surgery. Tentatively I will probably deal with the cataracts next summer. I've thought about it some; if I had a choice, I'd take blindness over deafness. I can't imagine a world without music and conversation. But we play the cards we're dealt.

A BICYCLE FOR THE BLIND ?

The Old Mill

Next Saturday we're going to the Old Mill with Lorna's sister Linda and her husband Larry to celebrate whatever we can think of at the time. The Mill is not where one would go to eat sophisticated food -- we are just talking beef, cut up, aged, cooked over high heat, and washed down with really good beer or wine -- as basic as it gets. I've eaten in upscale N.Y. and Chicago steakhouses. Frankly, they not as good as just driving up the road to the Mill. The following was clipped from the Rochester Post-Bulletin (nice picture of Dave though):




At a time when corporate-type restaurants seem to dominate, it is nice to find a family-owned establishment that remains on top of the dining scene. The Old Mill Restaurant in Austin is one. It combines two important elements -- history and great food.
Owners Dave and Ann Forland have been running the restaurant since l988 in a building that dates back to 1864. It was originally a flour mill. It was closed for a number of years and later reopened as a restaurant on Mother's Day in 1950.
"From the time it first opened it had a supper club atmosphere, popular at the time, and we have stayed with it. It has worked for decades and people here love that." Ann said.
Despite a wide variety of menu options, including fresh seafood like scallops and cold water lobster tails, The Old Mill has built its reputation on its beef -- with the prime rib and steaks at the top of the list.
"You will not get a better prime rib or steak anywhere," Dave said.
The prime rib is sliced from a standing rib roast, and on a busy night, Dave said he can easily go through 150 pounds of it. He hand cuts and ages all of the steaks himself.
As is true with so many chefs/owners, Dave worked in several restaurants before assuming ownership.
At The Old Mill, his kitchen assistant is a long-time friend and fellow cook, Mike Thorpe.
Though the kitchen is small -- about 12 feet by 14 feet -- they turn out great food. In fact, the restaurant itself is small. There are 20 tables in three separate dining rooms, with a maximum seating of 80 people.
They have recently added a wine room, where customers can go for appetizers and a wine tasting. They are also proud of their specialty beer selection.

Leigh Swenson

Last week I received news that my childhood friend, Leigh Swenson died. He lived across the street from me, we raised homing pigeons together on my grandparents farm, and generally got in trouble together. He had a way of bringing things like that out in a guy. I hadn't seen him in 20 years, but I knew him to be a man that never got cheated by life. He lived every day at a sometimes terrifying pace.

THE POLECAT

Gunnar With Crappie, 1952?

Take this...you...you... classic tattoo Daddy!

Party Time

Good news in the mailbox today. Donovans are having a neighborhood party in a couple of weeks, and decided to make it a beer/wine tasting soiree. Tough to beat good beer, wine and food with friends. Just gotta make certain Sal and the Judge show up. The Judge is serious about his beverages. We may have to isolate ourselves in a backroom for our own tasting. It'd be a shame to have to share some really good stuff with some sonofabitch who brought a sixpack of Lite or a cheap Merlot. Please, offended Merlot drinkers - I am not serious.

Morning Email From Ad

We finally got an email from Ad inThailand. We can sleep again tonight.

Small Town Hockey

I was never much of a skater, to say nothing of being a decent hockey player, but the game is one of those things that defines Minnesota. Some kids are on skates by the age of three or four - they can skate better than they can run. The local kids here live on the ice, and now there is a girl's high school team as well as the boy's team. We also have a really bad Junior team with recruits from around the Midwest. But that's for watching, not for playing.

A.L. is a city of neighborhood parks. During the winter they flood them all and have hockey rinks, some with high boards, others with just low boards. The rinks are all lighted and most have warming houses. The games are all continual with rotating players ranging from preschool to adults. The NHL make a big deal out of playing one game on outdoor ice, and they cry about the problems of cracks, hard ice and soft ice. Jeez, these guys all grew up playing on natural ice or they wouldn't be in the NHL.

My favorite local rink is one in the neighborhood that is simply snow cleared from the lake ice. Folding lawn chairs spend the winter out there on the ice. They double as seats for putting on skates and then become goal markers. A little 3 on 4 with a smaller goal for one team, to even it up...that's the pure game.

Ukeadena

Missing the ukulele girl. We last heard from her two days ago from an airport in Tokyo. I hope she has email access soon.

Ad's Gone Again

Yesterday we put Ad on an airplane to Thailand, where she will be for a year or more. We received an email this morning from a stop in Tokyo. Saying goodbye doesn't get easier.

Drinking Beer and Shootin' Rats

I came of age in Hanau, Germany, drafted into the service of the U.S. Army. While there I also came of age as a beer drinker. When I returned to the real world, I discovered I was surrounded by NO BEER! What purported to be beer was all thin, light watery stuff - unfit for human consumption. Then I was saved by the Schells people.

The August Schell brewery has been operated by the same family, in the German community of New Ulm, Minnesota for nearly 150 years. Not a big company - August Busch owned a baseball team; Schells sponsors a slowpitch softball team. Anyway, I love their beers. Recently I had a great Schells tap beer in a local restaurant. They were proud that they had two kegs of only 42 brewed - the variety just didn't lend itself well to larger production. Every winter they craft different, limited run beers, dubbed Snow Storm. This year's Snow Storm is a Weihnachtsbier - a simply wonderful dark, spicey blend of 6 different hops. Gosh, a great beer made by people who really care.

For years my beer of choice was their Schmatz Alt. Then it disappeared from the shelves of Minnesota liquor stores. Now my old friend has returned, if only seasonally. Clipped from the Schells Beer webset:

Schmaltz's Alt
We have reintroduced Schmaltz's Alt as a limited edition Brewer's Select beer. The first in a series of Brewer's Select beers, Schmaltz's Alt is available during December, January and well... 'til it's gone! One of Warren's favorite pastimes back in the 30's was a trip to the city dump to shoot rats–so much that it was a common date for him and his wife-to-be, Casey. The manager of the city dump was John Schmaltz–hence the nickname "Schmaltz" Marti. We hope you enjoy our Schmaltz's Alt, a creamy smooth dark alt brewed even better than before.

Beer Style: Dark Alt - a German Ale

Alcohol by Volume: 5.1%

Characteristics: The rich, sweet malty flavor with hints of licorice is balanced by a chocolaty bitterness. Dark brown in color and topped by a thick, creamy tan head.

Perhaps only my friend Jim and I can truly appreciate Warren Marti's pastime. It should be on one of those cable sporting channels - The Rat Channel.