Coop's Corner: Old Blue's Turn For A Day Out

Thursday, August 6, 2020

Old Blue's Turn For A Day Out

There was a LOT of old today, starting right off the bat with my 1978 Yamaha XS650, affectionately known as 'Old Blue'. It may not be new but it sure seems to be in its prime....it's working that well!

There have been some things...places...I've wanted to visit lately and as often happens, too many excuses why those stops don't get made. It was decided last night that the excuses would stop, to, in and around our very own, 1 hour away, downriver Winona.

The Weaver Kellogg Dunes....

Prairie Island Road, Winona.....

The first official destination, the Minnesota Marine Art Museum

We were there as a family quite a few years ago and I've been anxious to return. I don't pretend to know anything about marine art but I do like to look at it. Those that know a great deal more than I have shared that the collection is impressive; names I know Monet, Picasso, Renoir, Wyeth, O'Keeffe, Audubon, Hopper, those old Hudson River School guys and old George crossing that icy eastern seaboard river, all on display.

Deborah, you never mentioned sitting for this....

Herman's were fun because they're local...

The Purple Guy that made First Avenue Famous....

Then it was lunch time, Acoustic Cafe downtown Winona

Something I have not visited before, the Watkins History Museum

My most direct connection to Watkins Products, other than seeing their old bottles in pantry's and laying among the junk in piled up machine sheds was their 'Nectar'. Every summer my brother and I would be talked into visiting the neighbor's farm to help Leonard clean out his chicken coop (it had been moved, our mom attended 1-8 grade in the very building). When done with the hard, dirty and sweaty job, Leonard would say, "let's go in and get some nectar...". Wife Rose would have the table set with cookies and on the counter were bottles with pumpers, filled with various flavors of concentrate to be mixed with water. I'll never forget them and was disappointed to not see any of those bottles today.

New products for sale...patrons came into the store asking for soap..."Sorry, we can't keep up...."

Take note you sales people....

After leaving the museum, I crossed the river into Wisconsin and climbed the bluff up County M, Kinstone my destination.

There were many I didn't see....it was getting hot out there and forgot my hat (remembered my mask).

On the way home....

To avoid missing any details...

Point-No-Point on Lake Pepin from the Wisconsin side....we live over there.

I moved a lot further around than he did....

Two nights ago, Peg whipped this up....there was no more this evening.

Last night, Risotto w/fresh sweetcorn. It was great but tonight, cold, almost better! Plus, my Whitefish accompanied the rice....close to perfection!

A full weekend planned, this time I won't be alone in the woods. Hopefully a quick Post or two while I'm out.

5 comments:

Coop a.k.a. CoopdwayAugust 6, 2020 at 8:06 PM
Sorry about the too-wide photos, new software and assumed that it would be taken care of. I'm not going to fix it this time, will get the next one right.
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motormikeAugust 6, 2020 at 8:43 PM
I was a door to door Watkins Man.. for a day... :)
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redlegsridesAugust 8, 2020 at 5:19 PM
Y'all have kinstones....Utah has vortexes....Colorado just lights up another doobie.
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Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)