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Archive for June, 2008

Ok, Blue Bird fans, it’s Week #14 update time for the Mississippi Gulf Coast Blue Bird Program! So, here is what ‘Master Naturalist’ buddy John found yesterday, June 5, 2008, walking around campus during (this week) on a Thursday morning Blue Bird Trail nesting survey:

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Emily the Tree Climbing Wonder Dog is also a Mardi Gras freak, and loves those beads!

Master Naturalist buddy John says to pass along that he is ‘OK’ with the fact that Emily the Tree Climbing Wonder Dog received more proposals in marriage than he did since last week’s survey report.
Each week as we cover the grounds of the 45-acre campus where the Blue Bird trail is located, Emily faithfully trails along from nesting box to nesting box, occasionally taking a minute or two to chase a squirrel she spots off to the side in chasing range.

Here’s is this week’s Blue Bird survey report:

Box #1- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #2- 4 Blue Bird eggs. – Last week: Full Blue Bird nest built, 1 Blue Bird egg.

Box #3- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #4- 4 Blue Bird babies flew the nest. – At least 2 Blue Bird babies.

Box #5- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #6- At least 3 Blue Bird babies. – Last week: 3 Blue Bird babies.

Box #7- 4 Blue Bird babies. – Last week: 4 Blue Bird eggs.

Box #8- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #9- 4 Blue Bird eggs. – Last week: 4 Blue Bird eggs.

Box #10- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #11- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #12- Empty box, no activity. – Last week: Empty box, no activity.

Box #13- 4 Blue Bird babies. – Last week: 4 Blue Bird babies.

Totals This Week (June 6, 2008): 8 Blue Bird eggs, 11 Blue Bird babies, 4 Blue Bird babies flew the nest, at least 1 sterile Blue Bird egg, 7 empty nesting boxes.

Totals Last Week (May 23, 2008): 15 Blue Bird eggs, 2 Blue Bird babies, 5 Blue Bird babies flew the nest, 5 empty nesting boxes.

Master Naturalist buddy John continues to be very enthused about the activity, and reports that so far, 23 Blue Bird babies and 6 Chickadee babies have flown from the nesting boxes during this first season of the new Blue Bird Trail. The weather today was partly cloudy, windy and about 88 degrees.

Another update will be along next weekend.

Happy Birding and have a good week!

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I was just over admiring my Wisconsin Badger friend Melissa’s post today on Fresh Starts, Fresh Curds, where she talks about her Wisconsin community’s Annual Cheese Fest on Saturday. If you haven’t stopped by her site yet today, please do so, and before you leave, you’ll have developed a tarnation hunger for fresh cheese curds that won’t quit.

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As she talked about the cheese factories located near to her home, it got me to thinking about my youth years in south central Wisconsin, and what an important part the small, local cheese factories played (and still plays today, to some degree) in rural Wisconsin.

My earliest recollection of small, rural cheese factories in Wisconsin when I was growing up, starts in about 1948 or ’50, when I remember visiting different relatives and family friends who were dairy farmers, primarily small dairy farmers, in the famed “Driftless Area” (unglaciated hill country) of south central and western Wisconsin, where it seemed there was a small neighborhood milk/cheese factory every few miles or so all throughout the area.

Late in the 19th century and early in the 20th century in Wisconsin, dairy farmers milked their cows by hand, and stored the fresh milk in large tin-plated cans, which were kept inside the farm milk house, which normally had a spring-fed,concrete cistern-like structure, full of the cold spring water flowing through it, to keep the milk cool in the cans until it could be hauled to a nearby factory.

This was well before the time of modern electricity-powered, vacuum machine milking machines. Back then, the milking was all done by hand, twice a day, 365 days a year, good weather and bad.

Because the milk can hauling was by horse and wagon in those early days, the milk markets (the milk and cheese factories) by necessity, had to be fairly nearby, which gave rise to milk and cheese factories being established every few miles in dairy farm country. Melissa’s post talks about just such nearby factories.

With the advent of motorized vehicles and machinery, many farmers started using tractors and trucks to do the daily hauling of the cooled milk cans to the factory. Later on in the 20th century, milk trucking companies came into being, either privately or company-owned, which basically relieved the Wisconsin dairy farmer, for a price, of having to haul his own milk to the market.

Milking by hand eventually gave way to the milking machine systems, which have continued to evolve into the high-tech milking systems seen today in dairy farms.

The dairy farmers of the 1950 era, received mostly money for their milk, but could also receive the byproducts of their milk as partial payment for their canned milk brought to the factory. These by products often included wrapped and rolled butter, cottage cheese, butter milk, ice cream, various cheeses and cheese curd.

One of my fondest memories during the dairy farm visits of those days, was accompanying the farmer friend/relative to the milk plant/cheese factory when he took his cans to market. All the way home, I would be able to sample some of the by-products the farmer had picked up while at the milk plant to take back home.

Being raised in a very rural area of south central Wisconsin, although I was not part of an immediate farm family, I had school many classmates and friends who did live on dairy farms, and I was privileged to be able to spend lots of days on those farms playing with my friends, especially up in the hay mows, jumping off into the piled hay and bales from some high place in the mow. At that age, I sure didn’t realize how really dangerous that was.

Every so often, I would have the experience of visiting a nearby cheese factory, and watch the workers process the raw milk into curd and the various cheeses. It was the best of all worlds when we could reach down into the huge cheese making troughs and scoop out a hand full of fresh curds! Hmmmm! Nothing better!

I’ll tell you, though, there is hardly another occupation where the work is any harder than that of a cheese maker. That is hard, hard work, folks. Even very strong backs eventually fail due to the regimen required daily in the making of cheese at those small factories.

Today, a number of the small factories have established sales rooms right at the factory, where retail customers may stop in and purchase a large variety of cheeses and associated products, many which are made and aged right on the premises. Those same factory sales rooms can usually shipped their products throughout the country, via UPS, FedEx and the mail.

In our Wisconsin home, there is always some cheese either in the fridge or freezer (yes, you can safely freeze it), and it is a rare meal that does not have some type of cheese on the table at mealtime. And in case you are wondering, NO, I am not getting paid by the cheese companies, nor do I have anyone related anymore, in the cheese-making business. We just LOVE CHEESE!

Two of those smaller premier cheese factories I like to shop at when I am home include: Carr Valley Cheese, in LaValle, WI, and Hook’s Cheese Company, in Mineral point, WI. They have excellent cheeses, and they ship to your state!

Cheese making today, whether it be a small, rural cheese factory, or one of the large corporate operations, is a tough business, where profit margins are razer thin, and to make it and stay in business for tomorrow, a close watch must be had on total operations.

To most farming communities, it is a sad day when a small, historical cheese factory closes its doors for the final time and fades into history.

So, GET OUT THERE, CHEESE LOVERS, AND HELP KEEP THOSE FOLKS IN THE BUSINESS OF PROVIDING YOU WITH TOP QUALITY, YUMMY DELICIOUS WISCONSIN CHEESE! GO PACKERS!!!

(And NO, all of us do not wear those cheese heads; are you kidding…!???

2 gazillion mice can’t all be wrong! CHEESE ROCKS!

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“There she was, just-a standing over there, singing DO-WA-DIDDY-DIDDY, DUM-DIDDY-DO…”

And, there I was, just minding my own business, tending bar on an early, September Saturday night in my parents’ Supper Club, up there in beautiful, down town Hub City. Up in God’s country.

I had noticed her before.

Kinda.

When she would come over the hill with her parents from their small town about 20 miles to the west, come over to Hub City to eat at their favorite supper club. I hadn’t seen her though, in maybe a year or so, when she was still in high school.

Now, she was in college, at the university, 19 years old, and she had changed.

I was standing behind the bar, and when I heard the juke box start to play, I turned my head to see who was putting the quarters in.

And, there she was.

Standing at the juke box , picking out records.

Tall, slim, shapely, her beautiful blond hair flowing down to her shoulders.

She was a fox!

Dressed in a pretty, fall sweater, and a flowing skirt that came just above her knees, her long, slender legs stretching down to a pair of casual shoes.

Slowly she moved to the music, her body subtle with an air of sureness and confidence.

As she stood there at the juke box, her head was tilted downward to read the song titles, her left hand on top of the ROCK-OLA, her right, resting on her curvy hip.

She pressed a button, then another, and another. The juke box was set to be generous, six plays for a quarter.

She turned her head to the left, glanced at me as I stood fifteen feet away behind the bar, frozen in place, ‘seeing’ her for the very first time.

And then she smiled.

I couldn’t turn away.

Her blue eyes flashed like diamonds, her fine blond hair glistened in the soft lights from above.

With a slow twist of her head, she turned back to the glass to read some more titles.

That was it.

She had me.

In those few stunning seconds, how could I know?

I don’t know how, but I knew.

She had me.

I had never actually spoken to her before, when she would come over with her parents in the past.

Shy? Bashful? That I didn’t talk to her? Perhaps.

Now, I had to. I just had to. Could I say the right things? Or would I screw up?

I stopped what I was doing, walked out from behind the bar, over to where she stood at the ROCK-OLA, and some how said “Hi.”

She turned her head towards me, and said, “Hi,” back.

“I haven’t seen you for awhile. Have you been away to school?”

She responded, “Yes, I just finished my freshman year at the university, and then went to summer school. And now I just started back at classes last week.”

I said, “Neat. I’m a junior there this fall, having transferred from one of the state schools. Maybe I’ll see you around this fall.”

She said, “Yeah, that would be cool.”

Then she went and sat back down with her parents, who had come from the dining room and had taken seats at the other side of the bar, and I think were watching with some amount of amusement, while their daughter talked with one of the sons of the supper club owners.

After having a round of after dinner drinks, which I made for them, she and her parents left for their home.

As I watched her walk out the door, she turned her head for a moment to glance back at me, and smiled that incredible smile again, and then she was gone.

I asked myself, when would I see her again. I had to see her again. Why didn’t I talk with her more? Why? Had I blown it?

I was home for the weekend, with my younger brother, who was assisting with cooking duties back in our supper club’s modern kitchen. He and I had an apartment together in Madison, between the university and the Capitol Square, just one house off State Street, which connected the Square and the U.

He had started Culinary Classes at the nearby Tech College the week before, when I had started university classes. We had an ideal apartment location, just off State Street, close to the U., the theaters, and, of course, the 18-year old bars, where we and others our young age could go and drink when we wanted to.

We drove the 60 miles back home from Madison many of the weekends, to help out at the club, and also to earn gas, food and spending money at school.

After helping out Sunday morning at the club with the Sunday Noon Buffet, my brother and I headed back to Madison in the early afternoon in my car. As we were driving along, about half way back, I casually asked him if he had any plans for the evening.

He responded that, yes, he did sort of have plans, as he had asked a girl to go to a movie Sunday evening, which was located just up the street from our apartment. That sort of surprised me, as I didn’t believe he had anyone special that he was dating then.

I asked who he had invited, and he responded, “Oh, I asked a pretty girl with long blond hair who was at the supper club last night, with her parents.”

CRASH! INTO THE PIT OF MY STOMACH! GASP!

“You did?” I asked, my breath catching in my lungs, my face turning pale, my stomach turning into instant knots!

“Yeah, ” he says, “she and her parents stopped back in the kitchen after they had eaten last night, and talked with Dad and I, and while she and I were kind of off to the side, talking about going to school in Madison, I thought what the heck, I asked her if she would go to a movie with me tonight after I got back, and she said ‘OK.’”

A few minutes went by, and I said, “Oh boy.”

He says, “what’s the matter?”

“Well,” I said, “I’ll tell you the truth; I really have taken a liking to her and was going to ask her out, too.”

Another minute went by.

Then I said, “Would you consider allowing me to take her to the movie tonight, instead of you? I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t mind, as I really do like her.” If memory serves me correctly, I believe there was probably a bit of begging on my part, too.

He was quiet for a minute or two, then said, “That’s ok, you can take her if you want to. I’ll stay home and do some studying I probably should do anyway.”

I thanked him several times, and I think deep down, he just took pity on his big brother, and said to himself, it doesn’t matter that much to him.

So, a couple of hours later, I walked down State Street a block to the dorm where Blond Girl lived, and at 6:30pm, had the desk call her that her movie date was here to pick her up.

When the elevator doors opened and she walked out into the lobby, and over to me, and turned her head inquizitively, a bit surprised, and asked, “What’s going on; I thought your brother was taking me to the movie?”

I responded, “Well, there’s been a change. He and I talked about you on the way back to Madison this afternoon, and when he found out that I would like to take you to the movie, too, he said it was ok with him if I took you out instead. He said he really needed to get some studying done before tomorrow, so, would you mind if I took you to the movie instead…?

As she stood there for a few seconds before speaking, I kind of got the impression she was a bit amused at being popular with both brothers.

Finally, she gave me that smile again like she did at the juke box, and and said, “Sure, why not?

And away we went, and we had a fun evening. Additional dates followed, and three months later, I gave her my fraternity pin.

My brother, although younger by about a year and a half, was truly a “big brother” to me that Sunday, unselfishly sacrificing his date plans, in favor of his brother and his ‘smitten’ heart.

I have been eternally grateful.

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Next installment: Blond Girl’s Surprise Birthday Party.

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