July has been wet, hot and muggy in the Northwoods.
Which is perfect weather for wild mushrooms to start sprouting up everywhere in our yard.
Big ones, small ones, fat ones…. well, you get the idea.
Considering that we do not own a dog any longer, and we do not have little ankle-biters kids running around, I find it quite odd when I walk out of the house and see dozens of mushrooms tipped over, smashed or ripped apart.
Oh, well, that would explain it then.
Mystery solved.
As I said the other day, the Rez was a little crazy this past weekend.
Actually, crazy doesn’t quite fit what happened. I’m not sure what does. Maybe you’ll have a better word for it by the time you’re done reading this.
In the wee hours of Sunday morning (read: 12:30 am), we are sound asleep when there is a pounding on the door. It was a friend of ours that had requested Rick to come down to the Trading Post (the building in which his shop is located) because there was a fire.
Paul, the owner of the building was out of town and someone needed to be there. Rick throws on his clothes and heads out the door, but not before asking me if I wanted to come with, which I sleepily kindly decline and tell him that if there was anything exciting, he can come and get me later.
Have I ever mentioned my fear of fires?
When I got up the next morning, I was able to get a full assessment of what occurred the previous night: Someone (or more than likely more than one) decided to get their jollies by playing arsonist to not one but five different targets.
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The second fire that was started totally engulfed the Big Drum Building, which is very important to many in the area.
On that night, 2 sweat lodges, a dance circle and a camper and smaller lodge were also destroyed by fire.
To say the least, the community was in a panic. But it wasn’t over yet. At 10:00 am on Sunday, I heard the sirens blaring at the fire station down the block. This time, the target was the MC stand at the Powwow grounds. Luckily, that one was poorly set and did minimal damage.
Hours later the images of the destruction started showing up on Facebook:
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This was what remained of the Big Drum Building. The fire was so far out of control and try as they might, the men and women could not save it. The building was a total loss.
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The back of the Trading Post suffered minor damage, but the camper and lodge weren’t as lucky.
Thankfully, nobody was hurt in these fires and the police have a “person of interest” in custody.
As the community gets ready for the annual Honor the Earth Powwow, they must also deal with the aftermath that this senseless act of destruction has caused, and the many questions that need to be answered because of it.
I hope those answers come quickly so that the healing may begin.
Coco’s Cafe and Bakery in Washburn, WI, is a cute little coffee joint that Rick & I stopped into for a quick bite on our way to Madeline Island last week.
Their coffee was fantastic and the food was made with local (and when possible Organic) products. The portions are huge for such a low price and the atmosphere is very laid back, with pictures decorating the walls by (an apparent) regional artist.
But the one thing that really caught my attention?
Now THAT makes a statement!
I’m not sure what the statement is, but it made me smile.
We’ve got a cute little chipmunk that has been living under some boards that Rick has next to the garage.
I’ve seen him scamper around the yard looking for things to munch on, and he didn’t seem to be a big threat to anything (unlike the squirrels).
I was out in my garden checking the second crop of peas I’d planted for the season, because for some reason only 1/2 of them came up on the first planting. I blamed it on the rain/heat/alien invasion and decided to give it another shot.
As I’m stooping down to look at the little shoots that are coming out of the ground, the chipmunk comes up to within 4 feet of me and starts sniffing around the plants.
I’m talking to the little fella (don’t judge), telling him how cute he is and asking what he’s planning for his summer vacation when all of a sudden he digs in the dirt and grabs one of my pea seeds and EATS IT!!!
Right there in front of me! I was shocked, to see the least, but that wasn’t the end of it. He scampers off after I yell at him, and as soon as I turn my back, he’s right back in the garden!
This dude either a) isn’t right in the head or b) has a death wish. As I’m telling him that this is MY garden and those are MY seeds and to go play in traffic, he just looks at me with those big black eyes as to say “OK, crazy garden lady, I’m sorry. I won’t do it any more. You can trust me.”
Thinking we have a truce, I continue about in the garden. When I glance back over to the pea patch, he’s at it again! OK, this means war! I’ve tried reason, I’ve tried friendship, but it ain’t workin’.
Off to the garage I go and grab the Liquid Fence (I don’t want to hurt the little bugger, just get him away from MY stuff). I know this spray doesn’t work on squirrels (of course I tried) but I had to do something.
I approach the garden and the little shyster is right back in there digging through the dirt looking for booty. I take aim and FIRE! Dead hit and he takes off running.
Bwahahahaha!!
I douse my plants with the stuff and head back into the house with my little harvest of cucumbers and meager peas that my plants held.
After about a 1/2 hour I decided to venture back to the garden and see if the little buttmunch had returned.
Yes, yes he had. Apparently the spray doesn’t work on chipmunks either. I have a feeling I’ve just lost my second planting of peas, because in the spot where each of the seedlings were coming up, there is now a shallow, empty hole.
Guess I just figured out what happened to my first crop of peas.
We’ve passed this place a dozen times or so when we go to the casino in Bad River.
It’s always been on my Bucket List of places to stop at, but it’s always seemed to be closed when we passed by. Thankfully, that streak ended when we took out little vacation (farther) up north.
I just love antiques and Rick & I just happen to be fans of certain TV shows (“Antiques Roadshow” and “American pickers” to name a couple) plus we love auctions, so we’re sometimes drawn to unique stores.
And really, how could you not want to stop here? The place practically screams at you!
Frank Boudreau is the curator of this particular establishment and he fit the decor quite well. His long grey beard, as well as his soft spoken voice made him blend into the background of his shop as if he belonged with the collection of antiques that he was selling.
To tell the truth, I missed him when I first walked into the store.
But I certainly didn’t miss this guy. A real genius created this work of art!
I found quite a few items I loved, but the price tags for most of them were a little out of my range.
But these metal chickens just had to come home with me! Once I can stop admiring them on my deck, they’re heading for the rock garden.
Of course, their not as bad ass as Jenny’s giant metal chicken Beyonce, but a person has to start somewhere, right?
