Available exclusively at the Silver Lake Café, Silver Lake, Minnesota
Volume II, Issue 2 May 2006
Driving Me Crazy
It’s been about two years since I moved to Minnesota after many years of living in California, and driving around here still makes me crazy. In California the highways are better designed and maintained: freeway ramps are banked so that you don’t have to slow before exiting, interchanges have generous distances to merge on and off the highway, potholes are nearly non-existent, most of the serious roadwork is done at night so detours are uncommon, snow and ice aren’t a problem, and so on and so on. Everything is faster. No one in California ever gets a ticket for going 65 in a 55 mile per hour zone. You have to be going at least 95 before the cops even notice. There are no speed Nazis in California like there are here. You know what I mean – people who drive 54 because they think it would be a sin for anyone to go over 55, even if it means plugging up the road for miles and miles. Also, there are few ‘Sunday drivers’ who seem more interested in reading the billboards and the specials at McDonald’s than arriving at their destination. I was complaining to Fritz about this the other day. After going to a doctor’s appointment in south Minneapolis (you don’t want to know what for), it took me ninety minutes to get home. During that time I saw it all: getting stuck behind a stopped car at a freeway on-ramp because the driver ahead of me apparently thought that ‘yield’ and ‘merge’ meant waiting for a mile-long gap in traffic, going on a six-mile detour, bumping over what seemed to be a logging road that was labeled as a state highway, and following an old gentleman going 47 miles an hour for the last 10 miles before Silver Lake. Fritz just laughed. “You have to think of our roads as a church basement where a potluck dinner is going on,” he said. “There’s really no rush and there’s plenty for everyone. You wouldn’t thing of butting in line in front of an old lady in the church basement, so why should you be in such a hurry to pass her on the highway. She deserves to be there just as much as you – probably more so. Relax, take a deep breath, and be nice to your friends and neighbors. You’ll get where you’re going eventually, and if you stay in good humor you’ll even enjoy the journey.” --Larry Yost
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“Our life is frittered away by detail… Simplify, simplify!” -- Henry David Thoreau
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Wild Rice
On the shelf in our pantry beside the tub of converted rice and the bag of sticky rice, my wife keeps a stash of wild rice. She’s not home right now, so I can do an inventory without getting hit: 1. Partial bag (est. 8 oz) No visible brand. Label says “Extra Clean, no pre-rinse needed, saves time” 2. Partial bag (12 of 16 original oz remaining. Voyageur extra fancy brand. 3. Partial bag (est 8 oz) No visible brand. Label says “30 minute, fast cook natural 100% lake, product of Canada” 4. Unopened bag (16 oz) Labeled same as the one above. 5. Twist-tie bag (est 6 oz) from bulk bin at Henry’s Market 6. Unopened bag (12 oz) Cano brand. Label says “Delicately airboat harvested.” --Fritz Urke
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Room
by Lisa A. Dauscher
In the room where I used to live That room where I promised to give You gave me your number, I gave you mine You shouldn't have wasted your time If I have to ask and be so bold If you have to want because your body is cold Don't come back to that room Don't spread your light of doom I can't be measured, can't be found I won't live within those ugly bounds My heart is not limited to my demand It's for the taking, only from my true man I won't go out hunting, nor search in vain Won't tie my hands myself and restrain Won't be the one who holds the key Won't be the one to find my destiny I already followed the path leading to nowhere The fool I was laughed angrily in despair That shadow that I feel behind me Has yet to reach out securely to bind me It's not out of fear that it must wait It's a sick u-turn in life that held its fate If there be a God who holds the rule Why must his hands be so cruel Might he deem them to my proper suitor Send me an iron willed, clever minded tutor A man who won't ask, who won't wonder But one who will enter my days like thunder And reverberate, and penetrate, and take What profound lovers we would make Not all women could see through my eyes, or understand But for me, it would be right to submit to a strong hand.
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From The Past -- Historical news items gleaned from the morgue of the defunct Silver Lake Pioneer-Commercial
40 years ago May 8, 1966 Gazette Silver Lake post office and Henry's Candy Company were broken into Saturday night with matching footprints indicating the same parties perpetrated both break-ins. So far as was known yesterday, nothing was stolen from either place.
75 years ago May 12, 1931 Sun One hundred and seventy-four quarts of beer were taken in a sheriff's raid on a farm southwest of Silver Lake Saturday night. Two men were arrested, fined $75 each, and ordered to leave the county. The raid was conducted by Sheriff Ryan. Peter G. Larson, a pioneer resident of Poplar Township, died Friday. He was born in Norway in 1845, came to the United States in 1867 and to Hjemkost County 10 years later. He retired from farming in 1913 and moved to Silver Lake and opened a bakery and silage grinding operation. His wife, Gert, two daughters and four sons survive.
100 years ago May 15, 1906 Gazette An entertainment will be given at the armory next Saturday evening for Syttende Mai, under the auspices of the Sons of Norway. The program will include an accordion concert by Garfield Herfendahl followed by an address by Hon. S. A. Wefald. The admission will be 25 cents and proceeds will go to the new church fund. William Wunsch returned on Saturday of last week from his extended trip through the western states. While away, he never retraced a step, and saw something new all the time. As usual, he has some intensely interesting stories about his travels to tell to his friends. On Monday afternoon at 1:30, members of the Students Club were pleasantly entertained at luncheon by Mesdames A. A. Stone, Ward Stone and C. H. Garlick at the former's home. The social event was in honor of Mrs. C. M. McElroy who expects to soon remove to Minneapolis. From the Poplar Township correspondent: Dr. Egan of Brownton was in Silver Lake Tuesday. Some of our people drove over and some went over on horseback to have teeth fixed, but we are unable to state whether for man or beast or both. If Fred Andert isn't the most unfortunate man in town we don't know. Saturday his children broke one buggy and Sunday while driving to church he broke his three-seated buggy. The roads may have been too rough on it or it may have been loaded too heavily. He had to preach that day and Fred's load of wisdom may have been too much for the buggy.
15 year ago May 29, 1991 Thursday was the birthday of Maty Ellen Karen Elizabeth Grossman, secretary for the Poplar County Recycling and Adult Education Department. It ended up most attention-getting. One by one the birthday cakes came in until a cake for each of Grossman’s 50 years was delivered. “Oh my goodness!” Grossman said. “I’ll just be a chunk if I have to eat this all by myself.”
-- Compiled by Mrs. Trygve Strindberg
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Humulus lupulus
Be honest. Do you know what Humulus lupulus is, or are you just reading this because of the sensual sound of the name? Humulus lupulus. Indeed, Humulus lupulus is all about sensual -- the sensual side of beer, that is. You see Humulus lupulus is the scientific name of the hop plant, whose flowers provide aroma, aftertaste and body to beer. There are hundreds of varieties, from Saaz to Hallertau to Fuggles to Pride of Ringwood. All of them grow out of a root-like structure called a rhizome. The rhizome persists for many years and annually sprouts a vine that can grow up to thirty feet in length. Its resinous flowerbuds are picked and dried to be used in the brewing process. I’m trying to grow a hop plant again this year. I tried once about two or three years ago, but the plant was in the wrong location and didn’t amount to much. This year I’m hoping for much better luck.