Existing In BFE

We return now to Henderson's Junkyard and Drive-Thru Museum.  I'm not sure if it is more junk or more museum but about a mile north of Emerald City on Route 67, there is an area of rusting machinery that is pretty unique.  It is an area of old heavy machinery designed to do all kinds of things: move earth, grade roads, smooth, grind and things unknown to me.  The first entry of this visit was a few days ago, in case you missed it before.      That's about it.  We'll leave these items to sit there for your amusement and education, now silent from long days building and working.  These are the forgotten iron horses that helped build America. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wombie have a couple of hummingbird feeders outside their porch.  While gone on vacation to Colorado, and dogsitting Miss Maddie, I took the opportunity to set up the camera and take some pics of the little beauties.   I had my tripod so setting up the camera wasn't difficult.  There was already a small hole in the screening so I slid my remote clicker through it and attached it to the camera.  The next step was to lie quietly on the porch floor and wait.    I was able to get some pretty decent shots and I will be posting them in the coming weeks.  I discovered that most of them liked the lower feeder, surprising because it doesn't have footholds.  It also seemed like they traveled in a circuit - as I saw the same ones in 15-20 minute intervals.   Sadly, they have in the intervening weeks seemed to have left, and we are not sure why.  One of the neighbors is cleaning out a brushy area and we are hoping he has not destroyed their homes.

 I saw this somewhere and liked it.  I suppose it sums up all our individual appreciation of art.  ++++++++++ I have tried to buy a SUV, a motorcycle, and a dog, while up in Northlandia.  Guess I'd better come to my senses or get back down South. ++++++++++ We had some pretty strong overnight storms last week. I woke up and watched from the garage for a while.  I love good old Midwest thunderboomers. ++++++++++ Me and the Frump out on a little cruise. ++++++++++ I was a fan of the McLaughlin Group years ago and discovered it is still on PBS on my free-TV at the Cabin.  John McLaughlin, the moderator is still going but his aged constricting body is barely able to sit in a chair these days.  It is painful to look at him.  Hey John, there are worst things than retirement. ++++++++++ Speaking of my free TV, on Saturday nights there is a spoof-filled show called Svengoolie and he hosts an old horror movie.  It is as close to

For awhile I was walking daily from my Cabin in the Woods down this lane and out in the wilds.  One day the roadway was mowed and I noticed a flag had been chewed up by the blades and laying along with the weeds and other crap that usually inhabit ditches. In this moment of America's inability to win wars overseas, the rise of a non-politician who seems to embody the angrier and less civil parts of our nature, a Congress at odds with the people they represent, and a feeling that we are no longer the nation we were in our parents' time, this photographic essay seemed quite appropriate.    

"I inadvertently erased today's Flashback Friday yesterday, so I had to scramble to find a replacement post.  I headed back four years ago for this entry.  I chose it mostly because I had my anniversary in early June and I won't tell you if I remembered it or not - some things are best left unsaid.  So, without further adieu, a repost from April 2011 commemorating an event over thirty years ago."  MB   Last month we had the pleasure and privilege to attend our daughter's marriage to Drew. Besides being part of a 'last milestone', it was especially exciting and delightful to see our friends. Many of these friends had attended an earlier wedding of a few years ago. Quite a few. Here, for your amusement are pictures of an earlier time and another remarkable wedding. Next week's Flashback will feature some of the reception pictures. Dad and I. Best man, the eminent Dr. Dan Kolbow. The fateful sealing of the deal. Na

Head Out On the Highway, Looking For Adventure Turn right onto the Bald Bluff road a mile north of Little York and you begin heading West.  Go far enough and you'll begin to see the pines of Big River Conservation area, a 2900 acre forest between Keithsburg and Oquawka.  Slow down now and start looking for this sign on your left.  Its your personal invitation to a little-known local adventure.     Of particular interest in this area is the Lincoln Trail.  The broken unmaintained sign reads:  "Lincoln Trail History On May 7, 1832 Capt. Abraham Lincoln led by Col Samuel Thompson and Maj Nathan Bucmaster, Rode with 2000 militiamen on this trail to the mouth of the Rock River in the  Blackhawk War."  The stately pines provide plenty of cover and mystery.  Hidden on the trail on a small bluff is this small pioneer cemetery.  Burials appear to be in the 1850's and 60's.  Overgrown an

An early morning text and these pics from Neighbor Tim said the replica Nina and Pinta were in Burlington.  He knows the blog is always hungry and that I love tall ships.  After I replied that I might go over to see them he then suggested lunch.  And although the Santa Maria is no where to be seen, two outta three ain't bad.  (that is my ode to Meat Loaf who collapsed on stage last week, but is recovering.)    Neighbor Tim is a Sherwin-Williams paint tech and had some business over there so we were able to meet at Big Muddy's along the river front.  That's where the two ships were berthed for three days for educational tours, before heading off to somewhere else along the Mississippi.  An observation about the ships:  if they are built to scale then they are really small ocean going ships.  Imagine your husband coming home and asking, or perhaps in those days, telling you to gather the kids, say goodbye to family and friends and then walk with him to

As I drive or ride past the cornfields of Northlandia my thoughts sometimes go back to my days as a hired man on Uncle Ed's small farm.  I am told that many of the things we did are now no longer done.  The first task after I returned from school was the slow month of cultivating.  This was the process of hitching to the tractor a devise with four prongs that would take out weeds in between the rows.  Farmer Mark told me they now simply spray.  This was confirmed also by Harvey P., the last remaining member of the group of farmers we shelled corn or baled hay for.  And I just mentioned the other things no longer done.  Farmers no longer place their corn in corn cribs.  We spent a good chunk of summer going around shelling neighbor farmers' corn since Ed was the only one with a sheller.  And finally, farmers now bale those big round things you see in the fields, not the small square ones.  You don't need barns or mows for the big ones.  And so, my work, much like myself is