Jack is not a dull boy

I used to just go to work every day and tolerate the passing of time, collect my paycheck and be generally satisfied with the whole situation. My bosses were mostly okay to deal with and the president of the corporation was good to work for. I took over a specialty area which gives me a little more independence and control over my schedule. I made sure to be sick from time to time, but not enough to make anyone suspicious…just enough to keep from accumulating too much time on the books.

The best part of my job was giving presentations. It meant that I got out of the office, and was “on stage” for an hour or two. It was fun to interact with the audience and hear their questions and complaints. When you have a mastery of a subject, it’s fun to teach it to others.

When they started talking about a branch office, I didn’t think too much of it at first. Then one day, it hit me like a truck. I could move to a new city, open up the branch office and be “in charge” of it. Not that I’d be the boss, or even supervisor, but I would have more freedom and more opportunity to be meeting with people. The prospect of ownership in the success or failure of the new office was exciting. So, we moved, and I love it. The company helped pay for the move, but I didn’t get a raise. I’d say it cost us nearly $20,000 after all of the expenses involved.



It isn’t so much that I’m worried about losing my job or anything, but I really want the new office to be successful. Yes, it’s a reflection on me if it flies or if it flops. But, more than that, I have a sense of personal satisfaction when participants are getting the information they need.

Well, we recently took over operation of the 401(k) plan. We’ve always “owned” the plan but we had a third party, or private company, providing the customer service in the past. For years, the employees were on commission, and seemed motivated to go out and sign people up. Then a few years ago, the reps were put on salary. The level of service suffered greatly. Nobody wanted to go out and meet with people and educate them about the plan. The rep in this area worked out of his home and was hard to track down. He also didn’t know my side of the business, so he could only provide information on the 401(k), but not all of the other stuff. Now the private company is gone and the home office is doing all the customer service. We hired all of their people and some have already quit, including the one for my area mentioned before.

So, I found myself alone in a new territory, with nobody to guide me. I had to learn the ropes fast. I called a rep whose grandfather started the business years ago. We set up some meetings and took appointments all day. Nobody had ever provided this level of service and information before. Our president was thrilled, but unfortunately nobody else was skilled enough to do this in the other territories. Glowing with the sense of being the model for excellence, I set out to raise the bar further. We hired two new employees and they quickly picked up the business. One is a natural with the one-on-one meetings and the other has a brilliant grasp of the calculations. With an expert trainer to guide them, they will shine.

I can’t believe that I don’t have to drag myself into work anymore. I go in early, work late if necessary and even pick up a few hours on the weekends. Sure, I get paid overtime for the extra work, but I never did that back at the home office. My time was my time, and the company NEVER got more than 40 hours out of me. But, it’s personal now. The work is fulfilling mostly because I have the responsibility for the region. There’s nobody to back us up. We take all of the blame and all of the credit for our performance. And, they know we’re good. It’s not a competition, and there’s no prize for success other than the pride of doing a good job. I don’t know how you instill that drive in someone else and I really don’t know where I got it from.

All I know is that life is good and I’m not consumed by my work, but it’s so much more satisfying than it used to be. And, I still take time to play.

Evolution of Cats

We have four cats. Jessie is 17 1/2 years old. I got her from the Eau Claire humane society when I was in college. Rubu is 10 1/2 years old and she came from a farm that was owned by my co-worker's parents. Scully is 10 and she came to us 6 years ago from the Hennepin County humane society, and Annie is 6. Annie belonged to my mother-in-law, and joined the herd last year.

Jessie has always been a smart and talkative cat. She knew right from wrong and understood, "No!" when it was used just the right way. Jessie used to "fetch" pen caps when we lived in Eau Claire. I would throw them across the living room and she would run after them. After batting one around for a while, she would bring in back to me in her mouth and drop it in my lap. Jessie used to open the drawers of my roommate's waterbed and drag his socks around the house. We would find them in the hallway and in the recliners. We would also find coin and other small items in the chairs and couch.

Rubu never was quite as smart. She was taken away from her mother too early and didn't learn all of the proper kitty skills. She's a very sweet cat and she likes to sleep on her back, up against a wall, step or piece of furniture. Once in a while we find her licking a laundry basket or basement wall in an obsessive-compulsive manner. Rubu occasionally imitates Jessie, but never seems to remember how to do things even a day later.

Scully came aboard with her own little tricks, and she is quite the lap cat. We never got too many lap visits from Jessie or Rubu, but Scully loved to settle down on one of us. Jessie would always be in our "proximity", but didn't seem to want the direct contact. Scully is a blue-creme tabby weighing in at a scant 8 pounds. She will curl up with one of us under the covers and loves to sleep-in in the morning. She has a chipped front tooth which we think was caused by her clumsiness.

Annie is a pretty big cat and hasn't quite figured out how to fit in with the rest yet. She wants to be social and get along with the others, but Jessie just won't put up with her. Rubu doesn't seem to care and plays with Annie sometimes. Scully still hisses at Annie, but then just moves along. Jessie sees Annie as a threat and lets out quite a scream if Annie gets too close. The first few times, it sounded like Jessie was being murdered. Now we just ignore it or throw things at them.

Over the years, we've started to notice some interesting things happening. Jessie would come and sit in my lap. We think she was actually learning this from (imitating) Scully. Rubu started making a lame hissing sound that only Jessie was making in the past. Scully slept on the bed with us, and then Rubu started sleeping on the bed with us. We were feeding Jessie real meat every night for dinner, and the others were never interested. Then, one day, Scully took some bites of some dried ham that Jessie had left behind. Now Scully must have her dinner every night right along with Jessie. These cats are teaching each other.

Since moving, Rubu has stopped sleeping on our bed, but now Jessie has taken her place. Annie and Jessie don't get along very well yet, but they have begun mimicking each other in small ways already. Sometimes it's very small things, but they are starting to act like one another. It's fun to watch them learn.

If we could only teach them to do the dishes and laundry... They watch us, but they don't seem to be picking up on it.

Buckthornicide

We purchased a house in Duluth with a nice wooded lot. It's not quite an acre... actually .9986 acre to be exact. We're about 60 square feet short of an acre, so I'm thinking of asking the neighbor if I can move the property line over about 2 1/2 inches (300 feet long) to get to the full acre. Okay, maybe it's fine the way it is.

Anyway, much of the property contains large poplar (or popple) trees, a few birches and some small-to-medium sized shrubs or bushes called buckthorn. Buckthorn is native to Eurasia, and has spread across the North American woods. Back in the 1800's, people started planting it for nice thick hedge-rows. There are also native varieties of buckthorn, but the alien invader looks like this:



Unfortunately, this plant is smarter than most plants, and because of this it can wipe out native species in a forest. Buckthorn is usually the first plant to sprout leaves in the spring, and last to lose them in the fall. Therefore, it has a longer growing season than other plants. Buckthorn produces purplish-black berries, which are consumed by mice, deer and birds. The berries have a laxative effect on the animals, which makes it more likely for the seeds to pass undigested and be spread around the forest. Buckthorn roots choke out the roots of other plants, and their thick leaves block the sun of their native competitors. The species can grow to 25 feet tall and have a trunk of up to 10 inches in diameter.

This plant is insidious. It grows out of the rocks. It re-sprouts when you cut it off at the base. It grows up right through the middle of evergreen trees and kills them off. It will take over nearly any terrain and grow in any soil. The DNR has classified it as a "noxious weed".

The soil in our yard is not good for growing much. The popple and birch like it, and we've got a few spruce. Of course, the buckthorn is spreading like wildfire. Or, it was, until we moved in. We had previous experience with buckthorn in St. Paul. There was an ornamental hedge of it growing between our driveway and the neighbor's driveway. People used to plant this stuff intentionally, but now it's illegal to sell it. We awakened one morning to see Larry and Lisa out there cutting this thing down. Well, we jumped in with four hands, four feet and lots of power tools. The chainsaw struggled against the twisted, knotty wood, but in the end we prevailed. No more nasty purple bird poop on the driveway. And, our wood chipper came in quite handy to finish the stuff off - thanks, Dad.

Here in Duluth, it's a different story. Buckthorn had been allowed to spread in the wooded areas without anyone keeping it in check. As I surveyed our property, I realized the extent of the infestation. Bush after bush... shrub after shrub... sprout after sprout... all buckthorn. Game on!

I retreated to my garage to retrieve the chainsaw. Now, I had purchased a new, more powerful one at Menard's, or "the mother ship". Not being a lumberjack by trade, I opted for the plug-in kind. Plenty of power without the smell. Armed with 200 feet of 14 gauge extension cord, I set out to eliminate my enemy. I cut, and cut, and cut. I cut, and cut, and cut.

Did I mention that this stuff is also quite dangerous to work around? There's a reason it's called buckTHORN. Wearing gloves is only part of the cautions one must use to destroy this stuff. More than once, I have grabbed a buckthorn limb and pulled, only to be skewered by one of it's thorns. Leg, arm, face... all good targets. Most plants just sob or scream when you cut them... this thing fights back.

I was done for the day. I had a feeling of triumph over my leafy green opponent. I packed up my gear, stacked the slain bushes for future burning, and stretched before surveying my "new woods". Shoot, I missed one. Two. Oh, for god's sake... they're everywhere! It's like when you buy a new car. Suddenly, you see them everywhere, and you swore they weren't out there before.

Since my first conquest, I have spent many sessions over the past year... some brief, some lengthy... battling this monster. There's even one stand in which neighbor kids had built a tree-house. It's almost the size of our garage. I think it's the queen. Scenes from the movie Aliens flash through my head. Killing the ground troops, battling the minions and leaving their leader for last. As I lower my death-saw in her direction, I scream, "Get away from her, you Bitch".

I have discovered that for most of this work, the chainsaw is overkill. Not only is it cumbersome, and more dangerous, but it also requires a long cord. Yes, even a plug-in kind is not a tool for the novice woodsperson. I learned the hard way that this thing can hurt you... badly. I was cutting up some smaller buckthorn branches, and grabbed on to the end of one to finish the cut. Even in death, this buckthorn was biting back at me. I'm not convinced that it wasn't. The chainsaw jumped and nicked my left hand at the base of my pinky. Even though I was wearing thick leather gloves, I could tell that something bad just happened. I dropped the saw, and grabbed my left hand. Everything was still attached, but I could feel the blood starting to flow. I said to my wife, "I cut myself, but I think I'm okay." I went into the house and removed the glove to find a nasty gash. Now, the chain on a chainsaw isn't designed to cut, but it's designed to remove. There was a flap of skin dangling there, so I slapped on a bandaid. And another. And, one more. I cleaned up my tools and figured I was done for the day, having just dodged a bullet.

Anyway, back to the tools. I now use a battery powered Makita sabre saw for my dirty work. I still wear hearing protection, even though the saw isn't quite as loud as the chainsaw. The wood-cutting blade on this thing is incredibly sharp, and the lack of a cord makes it much easier to march and crawl through the woods lopping off those black-berried bastards. I carry a spare battery on my belt... each one is good for about 10 minutes of continuous cutting. I still get a little bloody from time to time, but I'm learning how to side-step its attacks... mostly. There are so many, I just cut them and leave them to rot. I don't waste time burning them yet, when I can spend time killing them. I see buckthorn other places in town. I hope others are fighting the good fight for the forest. We've heard that the city might soon join in the battle and help land owners remove the parasite. I can't imagine what a huge task this will be, considering I'm just dealing with one little acre.

Now that winter is here, I can keep killing it while it sleeps.

The nature of Duluth

Our second day in Duluth was spent doing some shopping, and getting familiar with the layout of the city. We were driving home around 9:00 pm, and we decided to do a little exploring. As we drove toward our new house on an acre within the city limits, we rounded a corner to find a hulking figure crossing the street in front of us. My wife commented later that she at first thought it was someone in a bear suit... because that's what it looked like. As a matter of fact, it was one of the dozen or so black bears that live within the city limits of Duluth. The bear slipped into the woods along this suburban street, lined with houses on one side. We marveled at our fortune for quite some time. We had heard that there were bears up here, but now we had first-hand proof. Wow.

Since the bear sighting, we have seen many of nature's fine creatures. We drove along skyline parkway one day, and we pulled over and watched a porcupine for a while. This was fun, too. But, the most interesting thing to discover was all of the wildlife that we have in our 1 acre backyard.

Deer pass through our yard every day. We still stop and watch them watch us though our living room windows. We have friendly squirrels and chipmunks that keep our indoor cats entertained. Chickadees and nuthatches are our most frequent visitors to the feeders, but we see occasional juncos, harry and downy woodpeckers and once in a while, a pileated woodpecker. We have learned that the blue jays will land on the deck to grab peanuts in the shell that we have put out for the squirrels. We have seen a red fox on our deck more than once, and one even barked at me for a while when I was climbing the rocky ridge in our backyard. It was quite an interesting sound that the fox made.

Unfortunately, a few months ago we began seeing skunks in our yard. They would come at night and dig up the grass to get grubs. Then one night, the neighbor dog got sprayed and it stunk up the house so bad, we had to sleep in our guest room... farther away from the incident outside. What to do? Grandpa to the rescue. We borrowed his homemade skunk trap and caught one the first night. Set with some chicken or other meat, the trap is a metal barrel laid on its side with a hinged lid. Once tripped, you stand the trap on end and use a garden hose to fill it with water. Of course, first we would check to be sure we didn't get one of the pesky neighborhood cats or a curious fox. Since the skunk is in a confined area, it won't spray. For two animal lovers, this was not a fun task, but after trapping and drowning four skunks over a two week period, it started to get a little easier. Grandpa thinks that he may have trapped over a hundred skunks through the years.

We plan to head up the North Shore sometime to try and spot a moose or two out grazing in the morning.