Adventure Log

I clearly remember the day that my brother Steve was almost killed at my grandparent’s farm.  He was trying to help with a welding project, and grabbed the wrong clamp.   I remember that menacing old welder, the transformer buzzing loudly and the acrid smell on a hot afternoon.  Sometimes it’s hard to get past memories that are frighteningly vivid, even if it was a long, long time ago.

I’ve wanted to learn to weld for a long time.  I had a few basic lessons while sailing with the fleet, but my heart just wasn’t in it.  Today Gordie decided I was going to learn.  He has a very strict schedule of employee training, and welding was a goal that was not met last fiscal year.  He broke out a brand new pair of gloves, and the lesson was underway.  Charlotte appeared with a camera and captured my hesitance as the lesson unfolded.  I’ve never mentioned my grandpa’s shop, or how freaky it is to watch electricity melt metals together.

My weld was not pretty, but functional.  The fear melted away quickly, and now I’m interested in learning more and actually gaining a skill.  I have a healthy fear of the electrical forces involved, but it’s not frightening.  Maybe the only scary part will be when I develop enough technique to build something whimsical.  Welding could become my creative outlet and I’ll build some wacky sculpture out of old tractor fenders and auger parts.  I already have a rough sketch…

I’ve just returned from a week of travel.  I visited Mom and wished her a happy birthday, and we spent time with family.  I was able to talk my nieces into a backyard performance at the pumpkin patch.  They are two very, very different personalities.  One is a free spirit who is comfortable with tasting life in daily bites.  I tease her about being a hippie, and although she protests, she fits the part.  It is her pumpkin patch, and she likes Volkswagens.

The oldest is a talented musician and a gifted actress.  She was not excited about the back yard concert, but she played her flute as her younger sister free-styled with pumpkin poetry.  I have video of the event which is funny beyond description, but I won’t post it here.  I’ll treasure it until the girls start dating, and then I’ll share it with their boyfriends.

Mom and her sister at Starbucks in Nashville.  It was good to spend time with family.

A photo from a Chevrolet sales brochure.

Six years ago, I found my Tahoe on a bargain lot in Minneapolis.  Full maintenance records were printed out, and after a short test drive, it became mine.  I’ve driven over 133,000 miles sitting in that comfy driver’s seat, and am happy to report that the odometer turned over 200,000 this month.

My 1995 Tahoe, happy in South Dakota.

The wheat is in the bin, the straw is neatly lined up in a row, so I’m off on vacation.  The next big task on the farm will be soybean harvest, which is a few weeks away.  My trusty Tahoe and I will hit the road for time with friends and family.  We have a couple of birthdays to celebrate, so there will be lots of chocolate and laughter.

Little Tahoe on the Prairie.  Laura Ingalls Wilder drove a Chevy ya know…