Anniversaries and Dinosaurs

Today’s a big day. Not only is it this the seventh anniversary of Ten and I jumping over the broom it is Raptor Day!

No, I’m not talking about National Velociraptor Awareness Day (which is on April 18th, thenkewveddymuch), National Bird of Prey (Raptor) Day (October 3rd), OR the rapture  – which we won’t ever have date for according to the christian's very own ultra holy guide book. *ahem* Matthew 24:36 anyone?

NOPE. According to the internet, raptors (presumably of the small, carnivorous dinosaur variety) will be returning to Earth today to…dunno.

Is today like dinosaur Christmas? Do we watch Jurassic Park, cheer on the Dilophosaurus and Gallimimus as they run by and then sit down for a hearty holiday rotisserie chicken dinner? Is there an exchange of presents? Do we hang Raptor stockings on the hearth? What's the traditional Raptor Day cheer? Maybe the Bird of Paradise (Aperol, pineapple juice, and overproof rum)?

 Is Raptor Day more like Easter where we go to midnight mass and celebrate the divine Velociraptor rising from the dead, thus saving all life on Earth (NOT just humanity) from an eternity in Hades? Will there be Velociraptor egg hunts? Were we supposed to paint Velociraptor eggs yesterday and hide them for the kids to find today? Was I supposed to have kids? I forgot to do both of these things. Everything seems to have gotten away from me. *sigh*

I’ve read that we’re supposed to have put Costco rotisserie chickens out last night for the raptors to feast on – that and green Jello. We didn’t – we didn’t know. I don’t even know where the nearest Costco is. Also, being pescatarians, we’d feel kind of funny about buying meat even if we’re not going to be the ones eating it. (cat food doesn’t count) Besides, our coyote and raccoon neighbors would probably get to it before the raptors got here (I don’t know what time they’re scheduled to arrive – they didn't reply to my text).

Why the green Jello? Are the raptors having joint pain or indigestion? Why green? Lime flavor goes with their skin tone better than cherry?

Is Raptor Day a dressy holiday? Do I need to dig in my closet for a nice spring dress? I don’t think that’s gonna work – I don’t do dresses and stockings anymore. No fancy shoes either. I have some flashy tie dye leggings though and a lovely faux tiger skin jacket. That’ll do, right?

I only mention it but, as we all know, our birdy buddies are descended from dinosaurs – birds ARE dinosaurs. AND Big Bird’s birthday was March 20th – just TWO little days ago! Coincidence? I think,the fuck NOT. Is Big Bird coming today to bring us all to the Sesame Street in the sky where we forever share cookies with Cookie Monster, count with the Count, shuffle around with Mr. Snuffleupagus, or sit and listen to Janice, Animal, and the rest of the band play on? I'd like that.

Oh, as it turns out, I got the date of our anniversary wrong. It was on March 30th of 2019 that Ten and I arrived in Valhalla after driving 3,259 miles from Oregon with all his possessions. We're still celebrating today though. I mean, Big Bird's birthday, raptors, anniversaries – bring it all on, baby! The more to celebrate the better. Ten and I can always celebrate our connubial bliss again next week.

Blue Feet

Did you know? The blue-footed booby gets its name from the Spanish word “bobo,” which means silly or foolish. This is because the birds don’t seem to have much situational awareness or maybe they just like to live dangerously, on the edge and all that.

Are they like: 

• Desperately oblivious sorority ingénues going to frat parties? 
• Drunk, entitled frat boys walking down dark streets in bad neighborhoods, thinking they’re invincible? 
• ICEholes from Alabama in Minneapolis in January? Too stupid to dress properly and have a shred of humanity? 

Dunno but our blue-footed chums are certainly much, MUCH cuter then any of their too-stupid-to survive, doofus-ass brethren.

Our blue-footed amigos can be found off the Pacific coast of South America, in Mexico’s Gulf of California, and on and around the Galápagos Islands. 

I only mention it BUT Ten and I might have a wee bit in common with our friends of the blue-footed booby persuasion. Fer instance:

Babe boobies are attracted to boy boobies with a brighter color of blue feet. This is apparently an indicator of a dude’s maturity and good health – the more vibrant the feet, the healthier the bird. Waddya know, I’M more attracted to human men who aren’t afraid to rock out in brighter colors and patterns. Tie dye, paisley, Aztec, flowing art nouveau inspired prints, bright complex geometrics, BAND Ts. Yeah baby! I can dig it.

Studies have also shown that blue-footed boobies have some equitability going on. Dude boobies also prefer dames with vibrant blue feet over ones with duller-colored feet. It’s a thing.

How are Ten and I like this? Just look in our wardrobes, fer fuck’s sake. We’re def not afraid of colors and patterns.

Blue-footed courtship starts with the male giving stones and other small objects to the female booby.

I ever tell you about the time I was out visiting Ten when he still lived in Oregon? We were driving down some wooded back road. I was telling him about the lava fields in Iceland and how they blew my mind clean off. The hardened lava rock was so beautiful I wished I’d been able to take some home. Well, Ten pulls over and says he’ll be right back. He runs off into the woods. What the fuck? He came back ten minutes later with this big, handsome chunk of lava. Seems we were, coincidentally, near Lava Butte. Yes, I was so swooning.

Female boobies incorporate the gifts the male has given them into their nests. Like a pair of boobies, that big rock Ten gave me now sits on the front porch of our nest.

Blue-footed boobies are known to be clumsy on land. I mean, look at those feet – of fucking course they are! Relative to their bodies, those feet are HUGE. Plus, they’re not exactly sleekly shaped. We’re not talking Silver Surfer tootsies, mes amis. BUT boobies are said to be graceful things in the air and sea. Never having been to their homelands, I’ll have to trust the PR.

Ten’s probably nimble no matter where he’s at. Me? Fuck man, I’m not even agile sitting in my big old comfy chair. (thanks NF2!) I used to be though! Mind you, that’s at least 10 neurosurgeries ago BUT…okay…nevermind.

The difference between the male and female blue-footed booby is that the women are a little bit bigger. This is so they can dive deeper into water and catch more fish. This isn’t a thing for Ten and I though I’m still a bit heavier than him. //shrugs// The extra weight is undoubtedly there to serve as a cushion for when I fall (it’s that damn NF2 horseshit again). I fall so Ten doesn’t need to.

Relationships – they’re about sharing life’s struggles and picking up the extra weight as needed. Also laughter.

Paraphrasing Emma Goldman:
If I can't laugh, I don't want to be part of your revolution (or anything else for that matter)!

Just FYI and sh*t...

The good news:

Yesterday’s flaming vermillion eye action was NOT due to a new infection or a fresh cornea ulcer! Yea me.

The less than wonderful news:
It’s, according to my eye team (yes, I now have an eye crew as well as a tumor squad) yet another side effect of my unsuccessful post-bean surgery weaning off the steroids – my lazy-ass bod’s refusal to produce its own.

Wheeeeeeee!

More good news – the old left orb is MUCH less crimson-y this morning. Why? Dunno, just happy that I look less BrightBurn-y

After Ten and I left Mass Eye and Ear, we motored down to our local hippie/groovy grocery emporium to pick up, yes, toilet paper amongst other necessities. While there were no 16 packs of Caboo on the shelf there were plenty of individual rolls (at inflated prices, natch) and packs of regular old recycled TP.

The Republican governor of my otherwise Democratic state has FINALLY emerged from his mega low profile to do/say something about COVID19. I guess he had to wait until his Dear Leader dropped the this-is-all-a-Democratic-“hoax”-and-media-“hysteria” schtick.

Public Health Commissioner Monica Bharel said person to person spread of the virus in Massachusetts is beginning to occur among individuals without identifying risk factors such as foreign travel. 

She said about 400 people have been tested in Massachusetts. She said the state has received kits to allow 2,000 additional people to be tested and more tests are coming in from the federal government. She said the state has also requested additional personal protective equipment from a national stockpile. (source)

With so much being shut down, I wondered if the restaurant where Jen, Oni, Ten and I were meeting for our anniversary din-din would be open. It was but, weirdly, had Fox News playing on the bar’s big telly (I suppose that's due to all the SportsBall cancellations). I would’ve asked the barkeep to change to a NON-propaganda, lie-a-thon station but…well…I wanted to see how long the “news” readers would go on with their bullshit, inflammatory, divide and conquer routine.

YES, there are BernieBros who are so obscenely clueless, heartless and self-righteous that, if Biden wins the nom, they’ll not vote (effectively casting a vote for the Orange Shitstain). And YES, there are Biden supporters who are quick to diss and dismiss Sanders and his supporters.

Divisiveness exists BUT Fox, the bullshit indoctrination arm of the Republi/Fascist Party, are out to inflame. They want to destroy our unity, our possible unity. DON’T fall for it! Eyes on the prize. We've GOT be united in order to get rid of the utterly incompetent, Democracy destroying, obvs deranged pResident AND turn the Senate Blue!

Back to our anniversary though, it was interesting, if not all hearts, flowers and wing flapping cupids, and we had a lovely meal. I’m sure as fuck hoping that this next year of ours has fewer doctors, ORs and ERs in it.

Just FYI and shit.

Anniversary!

One year ago today, on the evening of March 13, 2019, I flew out to Bend, Oregon where Ten and I began our excellent adventure. 

Over the next coupla days, I met his kids (and most of his grandkiddles).  They bid one another tearful farewells – my guilt at stealing their old man ratcheted up to 11. I promised them that Da would be back for visits (ya know, time off for good behavior and shit) and that they’re all more than welcome to visit him here in Valhalla.

And then we were on the road, arriving home two and one half weeks and 3,259 miles later. If I haven’t mentioned this already, I’m now in love with the states of Montana and Minnesota .

This past year, our first together, has been BIG with the assholian health crap – my near constantly dodgy left eye probs and then there was the elephantine meningioma in ma tête that HAD to be evicted. I'm doing much better now and my hair's even begun to grow back BUT the Recovery Road is long and slow-going.

This shit feels unendingly brutal to yurs truly – I can only imagine what it’s like for my hero, Monsieur Ten Bears. His first year living with moi has been a real trial by flaming hellfire.

I’ve not noticed any packed bags and he’s met my fears, telling me that he’s here for the long haul. Ten – he’s made of kind, loving, sturdier and stronger stuff than most. Yes, I DO, in fact, know how lucky I am – first with The Amazing Bob and now with Ten.

So, what are we doing to celebrate one year of happy shacked-up-ness? After a visit with one of Mass Eye and Ear’s cornea specialists this afternoon (yes, the old left eye is up to its old crimson tricks. I may become a one eyed wonder after all), we’ll meet Jen and Oni for a celebratory din-din.

That is IF the restaurant hasn't shut due to the Coronavirus. *sigh*

Nice Things

In this age of shockingly cruel idiocy I’m reminded of Kurt Vonnegut's wise words:

I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.’

Last night, Ten and I were reading in bed – it was SO damn cozy and nice (and I said so too!).

I only mention it (happily!) but, since the beginning of Ten and Donna’s Excellent Adventure, three weeks and a coupla days ago, I’ve had just one sleepless night. This is mondo unusual for me. Positively wondrous and shit. If Ten came with an advertising slogan it’d be You’ll sleep better with Ten!

And I do.

Other nice things?

Our new visitor cat, Thor – he’s a respectful boy. Jen tells me that, when he and Umlaut are on the porch at the same time, Thor never gives Umlaut shit about eating first. No fights, no dust ups – he waits his turn. Good kitten. Jen and Ten tell me there’s an orange tabby visitor now too but I’ve not seen him. Ghost Cat’s still coming ‘round too. Obvs, we need to hit the cat food store again.

Coco’s adjusting nicely to her new roomie. In the morning, when she comes to see if I’ve arrived in Wakey-wake Land yet, she mounts the bed and climbs slowly, casually over Mount Ten in order to reach me. How long before she’s decided Ten’s lap is THE ONE?

I came to the conclusion that I needed to allow myself the space and time to feel sad – all the new BIG changes have sorta, kinda, rilly triggered my never-far-from-the-surface TAB grief. Ya see, that BIG sad needs to get out – it can’t fade away and radiate if I imprison it in some tiny box in my bean. Know what happened almost immediately after I made that sane decision? Yup, my bleak, gloomy spirit lifted. Amazing what allowing myself the room to feel what I’m feeling does for me. It’s good shit…and shit.

I found, on introducing Ten to our local library yesterday, that they show movies a couple times a week. Next week the feature is Bohemian Rhapsody. Yeah, I won’t be able to hear the awesome tunes BUT, all the same, I’d like to see it. And, yes, there will be closed captioning. TOO cool! The library also offers yoga classes, art exhibits, book and crafting groups and a bunch’o’crap for the kiddles. How awesome is this and WHY am I so late to the library game? Have libraries always been this fab? Are they all this amazing?

Finally, Ten and I went to the adult bev store in search of a decent local brew for him. Ya see, out in Bend, he was a fan of his hometown brewery, Deschutes, and their Bachelor Bitter. It’s not available here so we’ve begun the hunt for a fab alternative.

I had no idea that beer can and bottle art had become, like wine labels, so incredibly fun!

Meanwhile, 3,259 miles later…

Well, THAT was epic!

Ten and I left Newburgh, New York yesterday morning after 45 minutes of laps in the hotel pool. Ya know, these motor inn pools are nowhere near Olympic length BUT they’re wonderfully convenient. Naturally, I now want one for here in Valhalla. OR...A couple I knew, who’d come into a mega load of bucks, had one of those endless pools installed. Perfect size for here at home. Also too…ENVY!

In any case, at the last minute we decided to detour up to Hoosick Falls – meet my wonderful Helen for lunch-y in Bennington. YES this added a few hours drive time to the very last day of Ten and Donna’s Excellent Adventure. oof! After two and a half weeks and over 3,000 miles of driving, the travel bloom is kinda off the touring rose BUT how could we resist? (Hint: we couldn't)

Eschewing highways, for the most part, in rainy (The first of the entire trip!), mega foggy weather, we crawled up New York state’s eastern border. It was beautiful. After a quick but fab repast at the cozy Madison Brew Pub (and talented lunch counter!), we dropped down into Massachusetts (ZOMG, finally in my home state!!!) and began making our way east. Route 2, the Mohawk Trail, in western Mass is serpentine and mondo hilly – mountainous even. Stunningly gorgeous in other words. Also, with a solid blanket of fog, it was a spectacularly dodgy, slow drive. Still, it was absolutely brill – maybe, what with the desperately evocative pea soup mist (with mountains and streams popping out to say quick hellos), it was even MORE SO.

Ya know, Ten did ALL the driving on this trip. Yup, all 3,259 miles. Finishing the journey, running down (and up!) those intensely curvaceous and thin mountain roads, in yesterday’s decidedly challenging fog and rain was awe inspiring. My man, just FYI, is a total road warrior.

We got back into the Boston area just in time for Friday evening rush hour. Having already been in transit for six+ hours, I was now firmly ensconced in the High Crankies (I'm such a treat!). Ten was calm as hell. HOW does he do this?! I texted a constant stream of kvetchiness to Jen (poor thing) as we crawled down 95S and up 93N. Our exit, eventually – almost shockingly, came into sight.

The world was def foggy and WAY out of focus yesterday.

And then we pulled into Valhalla's driveway. I exploded out the truck's door and ran into the house to see my beautiful kitten. Amazingly, she gave me ZERO grief for being away these past two and a half weeks. In fact, instead of the expected passive aggressive cold shoulder, she was all over me like a keyed up puppy.


Even more homecoming awesomeness – Oni whipped up a fabulous, restorative dinner of beans, rice, Brussels sprouts and sausage (for the carnivores amongst us) and Jen crafted a couple of her tremendous, calming hot toddies.

Christ it’s good to be home.

My little Welcome Wagon

The Homestretch

Ten and I finally made it out of the flatlands of Ohio…by the skin of our teeth. We spent our first night in the Appalachian town of New Castle, Pennsylvania.

There’s a fine layer of soot coating every house, every business. Hell, even the street signs, fireplugs and dogs sport a dark grey, dusty veneer. More businesses are shut than open and all the houses are in obvious need of repair. There’s a definite vibe of swirling entropy. How long before it’s a total ghost town?

Despite all this, the people we met at the hotel and local restaurant were lovely, friendly and upbeat (and the food was very good too). I woulda thought they’d all be gloomy hard cases but no. Granted, they get to live within this glorious mountain landscape. The hills live (and shit) and they're stunning.

What the place really needs is a crew of artists (and money – that’d help too!) moving in, converting the old, abandoned factories and businesses into studios, galleries and performance spaces. Ya know, like Lowell and North Adams Massachusetts. Pittsburgh is just one hour south of New Castle – this brilliantly situated little town could totally be a must-get-to destination.

Also, promote the hell out of the hiking and biking possibilities. This place is a soot covered gem.

After our diamond-in-the-rough stop, we motored down to my father’s town so’s Daddy could meet (and approve of) Ten. He did.

Me and my man then zipped off to Idaho (PA) to stay the night with my fab friend Michal. From there we began the very long drive east across the vast bulk of beautiful-but-HUGE Pennsylvania.

We passed through some sweet if oddly named little towns, set in steep hills. Bellefonte was one – with a name like that I expected a few palm trees and some island music but...no. Still, if we weren’t in the homestretch it woulda been nice to stop and walk around. Mebbe get lunch at the cozy little Italian diner Maria’s.

We passed by a town called Moosic – I’m betting they don’t have moose there. Or, possibly, the town’s founders meant to name it Music but were drunk and having a laugh on the day they had the signs printed. Could be!
 
There’s a village called Greentown. I wonder if it is. Another town is grandiosely named Promised Land. I woulda liked to have stopped in to, ya know, see if it really was all that and a bag of chips BUT we were in our 6th hour on the road and I was close to terminally cranky.

North of Scranton and ALMOST outta Pennsylvania we started seeing snow on the ground. I said to Ten, shee-it, we haven’t seen snow since Wisconsin. Boy that sounded funny to me. He allowed that SO FAR we’d traveled 2,870 miles.

We’re now in Newburgh, New York. Mister Google tells me that Valhalla is a short three and a half hours away. I don’t buy it. He also said that New Paltz, New York (yesterday’s original destination) was a skinny five and a half hours from Michal’s in Idaho, PA. NOPE. It was seven plus to Newburgh and New Paltz is another hour north of here.

Still, Ten and I will be home this afternoon. Awesome as this trip has been, I am SO ready for home!

Flat Earth

Our UNscenic drive yesterday

I think we spent eight...maybe nine years driving through flat and treeless rural Indiana and Ohio yesterday. The northern parts of both states make the grasslands of eastern Oregon look varied and practically mountainous. //grumble, grumble, grumble//

I’m sure there really are lovely little towns, beautiful lakes and maybe even a nice forest tucked away when you leave the throughway. The town name of Elyria fer instance – it sounds absolutely poetic. BUT I was in no mood to stop and explore. Hells bells, that’d mean more time driving. AND more time spent in state which helped to elect the Republi/Fascist Democracy Destroyer In Chief (yes, I DO seem to hold grudges against entire states). Also too, I’d really like to get home to my damn cat AND cozy cottage by the sea sometime this year. Ya know?

I’m aware (HONEST!) that there are good folk and good parts to both Indiana and Ohio BUT by the eighth hour of 2x4 straight flat roads, the dreary, colorless sameness was making me mega cranky. Also too, those interesting parts aren’t in the northern part of either state – not so’s I noticed anyway.

I woulda killed for just ONE little forest covered mountain.
Even a snow draped one!

I’ve seen some gorgeous wooded countryside in southern Indiana. I know it exists. Also too, despite electing Dense Pence to the governorship, there are some liberals in the state.

An aside—the Hoosier Dense One doesn’t trust himself to NOT rape so he never dines with a woman alone. Could be that he’s afraid of BEING raped by all those licentious babes – ya know, the ones who are just SO smitten by his boring Ken doll looks and theoretical charms. He also will not go anyplace where booze is on tap unless his wife is with him. Apparently his brain is located south of his belt buckle and "Mother" is his human chastity belt. He’s one spectacularly egregious example of humanity and so damn typical of his entire Republi/Fascist party.

Flyover country – There ARE solid reasons why vast swaths of the once good ol’ US of A are thought of as such. Hidden gems exist BUT they’re, ya know, HIDDEN on top of being really motherfucking hard to get to. Fer instance, we could’ve gone to see the gorgeous Corkscrew Falls in Hocking Hills State Park BUT that would’ve added six hours of driving to our trip. We’re so close to home and I’m NOT keen on adding an additional six damn hours THROUGH FLAT FARMLAND for a waterfall. Nope. Sorry.

I may've mentioned this before – I totes need a transporter beam. I wanna bypass the flat, treeless parts and go straight to the gold.

This morning Ten and I are in Western Pennsylvania where there are trees and mountains. YEA and PHEW!

Crossing Over

The sky as we left Minneapolis yesterday. Pretty, no?

Ten pointed out when we passed over the Mississippi. Ya know...it was water, it was big, I thought I'd be more impressed. Mebbe if it had tap danced like Multnomah Falls?

We're now in the thick of the hard part of our trans continental crossing. We’ve left behind the evocative, intriguing and sometimes terribly amusing place names e.g.: Crazy Woman, Dead Horse and Wild Horse creeks, Devil's Tower, Reliance, SD and Keister, MN – I gotta wonder what the high school football team is nicknamed – The Fighting Butts? Are the cheerleaders and baton twirlers referred to as the Sparkling Assettes? We're now in the relatively colorless and dull land of Elgin, Lake Station, Chesterton, South Bend, Howe (more like Why?) zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Along with the cool names of the more westward states, there’s a glut of rah rah, go team "patriotism" going on. You see it in how half of every biz, it seems, is named:

• America's Truck Box
• America's Campground
• America’s Inn
• America’s Land Agency—appropriate that it’s in South Dakota, the Black Hills thieving motherfucker of a state.
• America’s Finest Hotel—Really. That’s the name. We stayed there one night entirely because it was the cheapest option. Wasn’t bad/wasn’t great. It was full to the brim with meh.

All these companies must use the same grifting biz advisers. Name your company this, put a flag image behind the text and the rubes will come pouring in!

I don’t miss the teepee sculptures at all rest stops in South Dakota. They proclaim big and bold, we love you as long as you’re no more than ornamental and lend us some exoticism.

Wisconsin was pretty – they have actual trees there and rolling hills. They have Devil’s Lake State Park too. HOW did such a goody goody state end up naming a park after the devil?

We also saw a place offering Ghost Boat Tours. If our adventure was more open-ended, maybe we woulda stopped. Or not. Frankly, Minnesota’s Spam Museum had more appeal. Prolly that’s just me?

Otter OR, possibly, Nessie?

On hitting the Milwaukee and Chicago areas we entered a world of endless, nasty ass, backed up traffic and it wasn’t even rush hour. Boston traffic’s bad – this was every bit as heinous. We pushed on through (I had reached extreme crankification – NOT pretty) and found this wholly unexpected and astoundingly lovely, inexpensive hotel. All rooms at The Waterbird Lakeside Inn have very private balconies which look out on a large, sweet pond. In fact, if temps were above freezing, we could dangle our feets or even dive off the balcony for a swim. The place is basic but beautiful, comfortable and calming – three things that were TOTALLY needed last night.

Just now, Ten spied an otter hunting up some brekkie. How cool is this!? (Hint: very. Especially since we’re in the otherwise dull state of Indiana)

We’ll head out in a few. Today’s goal? Western Pennsylvania. We’ll likely reach there by nightfall and visit Daddy tomorrow.

Home is within reach now!

Early Jump WITH Art!

Grands and us

Ten and I are about to hit the road. We're hoping to get past Chicago today. I'm sorry to say so long to Minneapolis though. It's SUCH a civilized town! I can totes understand why Mary Richards moved here.

Yesterday Susan, Ten and I met Ten's grands and Susan's ex (did I mention how civilized this place is yet?) and his mother at the Walker Museum Sculpture Garden.

It was a chilly day with strong winds so, after a brief tour around the park we went into the museum's lovely, large lobby. There are all these big, stone colored ottoman type things which the kids stacked, made forts out of and climbed around.

The thing that really slayed me – Susan's ex mother-in-law played with the kids for most of the visit. She'd never met them before and she just jumped right in. How sweet is that? (Hint: very!)

So, enough words – I gotta pack and we gotta fly (well...drive).

Jesus I love this place!

Also, just FYI, the giant blue rooster was my fave. Of course. Who can't love an 13 foot tall cobalt blue cock?

NOT seen at the sculpture garden but I LOVE this!

Safely Into Minnesota

We cruised out of South Dakota and I could not have been more thrilled – right down to my sub-atomic level and shit. Warum? Eh, the state has a disgusting, oppressive, hypocritical, inhuman and bloody history which isn't all that far back in the rear view mirror either.

Even the filling stations have casinos in SD!

I mean, JAY-zus, we got into the damn state and, almost right away, drove over Sand Creek. Now then, it wasn’t the very same Sand Creek but still, ghosts were comin' outta the woodwork. And then there was Wounded Knee followed by St. Joseph’s Indian School.  It was and is one of those boarding schools originally started to kill the Indian and save the man, in the words of one “reformer.” Children were taken from their homes and sent far away to be indoctrinated – to be un-Indianized. They were forbidden to speak their own language(s), given new “American” names, clothes, and haircuts.

Lessee now, has the US grown/evolved since the Indian school days? Nope, not so’s ya’d notice.

An interesting tidbit about Wounded Knee:

One version of events claims that during the process of disarming the Lakota, a deaf tribesman named Black Coyote was reluctant to give up his rifle, claiming he had paid a lot for it. A scuffle over Black Coyote's rifle escalated and a shot was fired which resulted in the 7th Cavalry's opening fire indiscriminately from all sides, killing men, women, and children, as well as some of their own fellow soldiers. (source)

The cavalry ALSO killed their own fellow soldiers? How absolutely Trumpian.

So, the deaf kid didn’t understand that he was persona non grata and without basic human rights because of his skin color AND the fact that he and all of his ancestors were actually born and raised here. He didn’t get that the white newbies wanted the land and didn’t care how many folks they had to kill to get it.
I was happy to shake South Dakotan dust from my sweet silver Vans, I’m tellin’ YOU!

Coming over into Minnesota we saw two palette cleansers right off the bat. In Blue Earth, Minnesota, which we HAD to stop in for the name alone, we came across the Jolly Green Giant. Serious awesome abounded.

Back on the highway we saw a sign for The Spam Museum which, swear ta Bast, had the legend “not just a tasteless tourist trap.”

The newly built, 14,000 square foot museum features 9 SPAMtastic galleries with interactive games and photo opportunities. Admission is free to all visitors. (source)

Nine SPAMtastic galleries taking up 14,000 square feet? Interactive Spam games? //shudder// Tempting though this surely was, we simply couldn’t stop.

We pulled into Susan’s around one in the afternoon. Not only is this fabola Arts and Crafts style home comfortable as ALL fucking hell, Susan’s got a big beautiful cat! His name’s Friday and. yes, he’s friendly.

Aht on the Road

Woke from a dream so nasty that...well...we just won't speak of it. Nope. Instead, here's some art.

These first two we stumbled across on our way to Yellowstone. The wonderful RiverStone Gallery is, totes unexpectedly, in the microscopic town on Ennis, Montana.

Naturally they were shut for the season (as was practically everything in Eastern Montana and Western South Dakota) BUT the gallery's attached to Bern Sundell's studio. He saw us through the windows, staring longingly, and let us in. SO nice!

Bern Sundell paints fish and his wife (sister?) Lexi Sundell paints crows amongst other things.

RILLY wish I could've brought home one of each!

This next group we found in Chamberlain, South Dakota at the Akta Lakota Museum & Cultural Center. Wonderful gallery space which, I'll bet, does gangbusters biz during high season (whenever the hell that is in this end of the world).

Ten and I are off to Minneapolis this morning. Susan tells me that, while there's no ocean, they've got 10,000 lakes. So then, ALMOST like home, eh?

Gerald Cournoyer – Crow Horse

Donald Montileaux – Spirits Four

 

Lyle Miller – Buffalo Horse Shield

Keith Braveheart –Tasunka Unsikila

Athena LaTocha – Untitled