I really like winter. The cold and the
snow stay outside my little HUD house. I especially like the tree
shadows on the snow, the gravity defying clumps of snow that hang
onto the pine branches, the cold wind that reminds me I should have
put on one more layer.
I hear people complaining that this
winter has gone on too long, they want to see spring. I just ignore
them and enjoy what we have.
Very soon we shall begin our sugar
bush. We have plenty of firewood. and we found a new source for the
gallon milk jugs we use. My son Joe is showing his son Joe how to
carve taps.
Another seasonal cycle for these
Anishinaabeg will begin soon.
****
Along with my brother Vern and sister
Korey, Fond du Lac Follies motored to Colorado. I had a meeting with
my editor Rebecca in Golden, Colorado. According to my Google map it
was 1,100 miles away. The drive was supposed to take 14 hours and it
was freeway all the way.
I decided to take Black Lightning, the
Ford F150 Lariat, the bank and I own.
It was zero dark thirty when we left,
headed south using the Sawyer shortcut to get to the freeway. We
popped out at the I-35 on ramp in Barnum, Minnesota and the road trip
began.
As we were nearing Pine City we came
upon a pack of wolves eating a car killed deer. I counted seven of
the beautiful creatures. They were large and lithe and looked like
they could easily hunt down a wolf hunter. I left my brothers some
tobacco.
We continued south until we got to Des
Moines, Iowa where we turned and headed west on I-80. I later learned
Des Moines is now becoming a war zone because the Air Guard jets are
being replaced by drones. The 132nd Fighter Wing is now becoming the
132nd Attack Wing. The things one learns when traveling cross country
are amazing.
We continued west and began seeing
sand hill cranes gathered in the corn fields of Nebraska. I have
never seen so many cranes in such large numbers. I learned Nebraska’s
topography becomes very boring. It seemed like a very wide state and
we spent a long time wishing to see Colorado. During one little stop
we looked at a Pony Express station that was actually used in the old
days. I think they used horses because those little blue and white
trucks were not invented yet. This was not the actual location, the
old cabin was moved to make it easier for the tourists to visit.
We got off I-80 and took the freeway
to Denver . We found Golden, Colorado, our destination. We set up
camp in a motel and slept like we were dead. After breakfast I found
Fulcrum Publishing and again met Rebecca McEwen, the editor. She was
prepared and we went to work on editing Dirty Copper, this piece of
fiction will be out in June. We had both went through the manuscript
and had marked up our corrections before. It took us about seven
hours to do the final edit.
Once we were done, Vern, Korey and I
became tourists. We went up Lookout Mountain west of town. People on
bicycles and skateboards were also going up and down the mountain.
The road was paved all the way to the top, it was quite narrow with
one side dropping thousands of feet to the bottom. On the way up we
could see signs saying Bullalo Bill’s grave was at the top. When we
got to the top, Vern ordered food, Korey went shopping. Vern went up
to the gravesite and I left a huge tribute to Buffalo Bill when I
visited the Men’s room. I thanked him for giving us Grand Entries. We
came down that curvy mountain road. A skateboarder came by me on the
left side going very fast, he got in front of me. I thought I had
given birth to a white guy skateboarder as he disappeared around the
corners.
We slept, ate, and were on our way
home. Vern was driving on I-80, it was just beginning to snow. I
suggested he slow down a bit, just then we came over a rise and saw
semis and cars scattered around the traffic lanes and ditches I
counted three jackknifed semis and maybe 15 cars. There were also
many emergency vehicles parked adding to the confusion. We continued
on and got on I-35 and turned north. Along the way we helped a young
couple who slid off the road and ended up on their side. Vern helped
them out while I called 911, fortunately I knew the number. We
arrived home safe.
****
The views expressed in this column
belong to the writer alone, they are not meant to represent Vern or
Korey, Fulcrum Publishing, this newspaper, this Reservation or anyone
else. Comments and bingo boards can be sent to FdL Follies, PO Box
16, Sawyer, MN 55780, email: jimnorthrupfdl@gmail.com, Facebook too.