Life and Fish Tacos

I liked that movie! He likes a good brat and a beer on a hot summer day! She likes getting packages in the mail. Do you like scrambled eggs and bacon? Like. Like. Like. Have you ever thought about the idea of “liking” something?  I mean, if I like tacos (which I do…very much), it does not matter to the taco. It does not change the taco one bit and the taco, other than becoming non-existent (because I ate it), cannot care about or experience my preferences.  But, you know, there is “subject, verb, object” in English. (Be patient with me as I dive into a little bit of a grammar lesson). I am the subject, doing a verb-thing (liking), and the taco is the object. It experiences the brunt of my verb-thing. If I change the verb-thing to, let’s say, EAT—“I EAT the taco” rather than “I like the taco”--then the object (the taco) is directly affected, as a proper object should be. It gets eaten and thus changed by me, the subject. Being an unabashed linguaphile, I frequently f...

I smiled at my life as I tipped the sand out of my shoe and onto my quilt on a recent autumn morning.  Attempting to apply lotion to my legs while leaning against my bed frame, removing the shoes from my feet one by one, and ready to toss them onto my bed, I noticed the tiny mound of ancient crystal grains in the heels of my canvas slip-ons.  Which lake or river bank had they come from? I’ve been to quite a few in these shoes.  Rather than emptying my shoes into the trash can, I decided to create a tiny sand mountain on my blankets. I leaned in to examine my treasure. Remember Forrest Gump? “My mama always said you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes, where they going, where they been.” If Forrest’s mother peered into my closet she might be able to make some assumptions and not be entirely incorrect. Yes, I have some high heels, but only a couple pairs. What I have the most of are these slip-on canvas shoes made by a company called Sanuk. ...

One of the precious things about living at the 45 th Parallel is that despite the heat of the summer, the nights cool down. At the end of August, and on into October, the evenings are crisp, the humidity drops, and bug spray on the arms can be replaced by a sweatshirt—preferably a hoodie.   Now, my present 45 th Parallel is in the state of Wisconsin, but my original longitude fell in Michigan. I don’t see this so much in West-Central Wisconsin, but you can tell a true Northern Michigander by his/her wardrobe: shorts with hooded sweatshirts and sneakers. And the sweatshirt will be either a combination of dark green and white, or of navy blue with gold (maize). (Go Green—and if you know what I’m talking about, you’ll know what to type into the comments of this blog). Regardless of wardrobe, 45ths like to build campfires. We can because, well, it’s not so dang hot up here. And we have lots of firewood, and lots of water for dousing if need be. It’s now the beginning of S...

My very first post on this blog was called "Bill Paying Night" and it had to do with how it feels to be singularly responsible for my life, without the help and support of a spouse. You can deduce, then, that I am a recently separated/divorced person. The truth is that the court date is still looming. Pretty soon, though, the chapter will be finished. Very soon, in fact. Over the course of an over 2 year separation, I have written a small mountain of rants that may never see the light of day. They mostly have to do with what it was like trying to manage a marriage to an alcoholic person who is also, probably, dealing with other psychological issues. Because my children, and maybe even my precious mother-in-law, read my blog, I'm hesitant to say too much publicly--what it has been like to pull out of mental and emotional turmoil, and begin again, is something I have to avoid posting to the world. I did, however, come across a little glimpse of my recovery, j...

Lakefront Park at about 8pm on an August evening, dog in tow: --I'm glad my friend finally told me what he wanted to tell me. --Was it hard? Did it hurt your feelings? --No, it was nothing bad. --But you guessed right in what you thought he was going to say? --Ya. --Well, I'm glad for you. Having to wait to hear something that somebody wants to tell you could drive you kind of nuts, not knowing what it is...whether it's good or bad. --It wasn't bad. -- But you're not going to tell me what he told you... soooo, we need to move on to a new topic.  Silence as FiFi stops to smell a spot in the grass . --It's amazing the smells that dogs can sense.   More silence as we walk on. --Life is just going too fast. At the beginning of the summer I was happy. Now the summer is almost over. --Well, today it is still summer. The more moments you can stop and appreciate in a day, the longer the days will seem to last. And today it...

Summer Insomnia happens to me every year. Think about it: The winter sun sets here at the 45th around 4:45 pm. We stay up another 6 hours in the dark before we head off to snuggling and sleep. In the summer the June-July sun sets at about 10pm and it's light for another 45 minutes before we need flashlights and bug spray. My body is used to staying awake hours after it gets dark--the only remnant of winter that lingers into the summer--and so it happens that at 2 am at any given night during the summer months I am still wide awake.  What do I do? Fortunately (and unfortunately) I am sort of unemployed in the summer. Because I have a certain amount of flexible time, I do what comes naturally to one who appreciates Spanish culture: I take afternoon siestas whenever I can fit them in.  Nevertheless, I am wired in the summer. Awake at 4:45 am when the first birds begin to call and up until well past midnight. By August I finally start to settle in and pure exhaustion, f...

Kaye Bird was a prolific writer who loved to cover the simple yet most meaningful aspects of the human condition. She contributed a weekly column to the Woodville Leader, and the Sun-Argus, as well as monthly to the Clear Lake Museum Chronicle, all West-Central Wisconsin journals.  She passed away in December of 2016, but her beloved family has maintained her legacy, taking turns writing her column for her. This past week it has been my honor to have been asked to make my own contribution to A Bird's Eye View. The following is a slightly longer version of my humble offering: Summer at the 45th People who know my social media, my blog, and my life in general know that I’m a 45 th Parallel, Great Lakes kid who bleeds ice-blue water and glacier sand.  I can’t escape it--so grateful for where I live and where I’ve come from.  I may not get to have my beloved Lake Michigan near me right now at this stage of my life, but I have the strong and scenic St. Croix Ri...