Had a photo shoot this morning, and a consulting “gig” in the afternoon. Heading off on the bike to Sioux Falls with some friends to see a band. All in all a rather successful day!
I keep planting birdseed, but all that comes up are weeds.
I hate that I often base my designs around the limitations of my Internet speed. If there are any Iowa politicians out there – WE NEED INFRASTRUCTURE OUT HERE. Our only options were WildBlue and Hughes.net. We went with WildBlue because they swore up and down they’d triple the speed and lift the usage limits “sometime in the first quarter of 2011.” We’re still waiting.
I hate how everyone complains about Verizon’s cell phone service, yet Verizon does nothing about it. It’s amazing how “the acreage you’re buying is right in the middle of a strong 3G coverage area” turns into, “we’re sorry, we’ve never had good coverage out there” as soon as you sign on the dotted line…
I’m not happy that my blogs aren’t showing up in Facebook as notes like they should. I realize that both Blogger and Facebook are free, but shouldn’t they work as advertised nonetheless?
I hate that my Internet Service Provider makes me use an outdated version of a browser I don’t like, because “all the new stuff they released doesn’t work with our system.”
A busy weekend!
Saw Los Lonely Boys (as well as several other bands, notably the three-trombone funky rock group Bonerama and Ben Harper) this weekend.
I liked this song.
Last December Dagmar and I moved to our acreage. It’s early July now, so we’ve lived here just over six months. This home seems so natural to us it feel like we’ve lived here for years, yet every day we’re surprised by some little aspect of the land.
During the winter we were surprised at how often the wind came howling from the southeast. The wind never comes from the southeast – it always, always comes from the northwest.
During the spring we were surprised at how often the wind came howling from the southeast.
During the early summer we were surprised at how often the wind came howling from the southeast.
Last night we were surprised – the wind quit howling from the southeast for a few hours. Magically the fireflies came out. Not just a few, but hundreds – thousands – happily blinking away in our yard, the grove, and mostly out over the fields. Sometimes it seemed like the lightning bugs were blinking randomly, but other times it almost seemed as if they were creating purposeful art – a wave of light coming from the west, sweeping up through our yard into the pasture to fade out up over the fields a quarter mile away. Neither Dagmar nor I had ever seen anything like it.
When I was a child there was a certain spot in our grove, a small clearing, where there would often be fireflies. That’s where you would see them first, dancing in their own little meadow, surrounded by trees. They signaled the depth of summer to me. All is right with the world when there were fireflies dancing in the meadow – no wind, no rain, warm weather, calmness.
When I grew up and moved to Le Mars, I missed the fireflies. I’d see them occasionally in the small town, blinking in back yards as I’d drive by, intent on whatever errand I was running before shutting myself back into a windowless apartment. Later, when I moved to Sioux City, I gradually forgot about fireflies altogether. You simply never saw them. In our old neighborhood we didn’t feel safe sitting outdoors or going for leisurely walks – too many drunks, thugs, gang-bangers. And if there were any fireflies in the city, their lazy glow was drowned out by the constant stream of headlights, streetlights, the haze coming from the kiln factory across the street.
I never imagined, as a child, that I’d lose the magic of fireflies. And until just a few months ago, I never imagined I’d find that magic back again.