Musings From TheNorth

Spring has really sprung here in TheNorth. On Sunday the sun was shining and temps were in the 50s(!). As I sat on the little 6 by 10 paver patio at the OTCB global headquarters shed Sunday morning and sipped a mug of Norseman Grog it was easy to forget for a moment that the Modern Economic Depression persists.

*

Birds were chirping, ruffed grouse were rustling the groundcover just inside the tree line in pursuit of that ‘special someone’, the scent of damp pine permeated the air and, if you listened closely, you could hear the slight remnants of snow being absorbed by the already thawed and somewhat thirsty ground. This is a state of affairs usually not seen here until late April or even May. In fact it’s not all that unusual to see frost in July in Embarrass, MN. So anecdotally, it is exceptionally warm and dry here.

*

The snow’s exit has been incredibly rapid and its departure has exposed the approximately 8 metric tons of dogshit Mongo deposited in the yard over the winter. Mongo is a St. Bernard  and his piles are gargantuan. Judging solely from his excrement, you would expect the beast that dropped these loads to say ‘moo’ or ‘trumpet’ or whatever moose or elephants say. It’s ridiculous. He’s not a dog. He’s a biomass conversion factory with, seemingly, a net gain on the output end. Seriously. By volume, I’m certain he poops more than I feed him.

*

I considered renting a front-end loader to aid me in the environmental remediation of his yard, however the persistent Modern Economic Depression dictated manual labor. Under normal circumstances, casual physical labor for me is a wonderful activity. It’s always been so. I love being outside and being quasi-productive. There are no deadlines or pressures and no agitated coworkers, bosses or spouse/significant others harshing my mellow. However the de-crapping of Mongo’s yard after a winter of digestive processes that compare favorably with a wood chipper – it goes in solid, comes out somewhat less so – was not actually generating the usual enthusiasm in me that working in the yard typically calls forth.

*

I donned gloves and the new wildland boots  I’m breaking in, grabbed a straight hoe and a square shovel and proceeded into Mongo’s yard. Immediately I considered retreat for a boot change. My initial size-up suggested waders might be a better choice of footwear. I relented on the change for waders as being merely a ploy to delay the project and sallied forth to face the poo.

*

As I toiled, the process became less visceral and more abstract. I experienced what might be something akin to what an archeologist or paleontologist experience as they discover a specimen revealed by a retreating glacier. Each discovery tells a story. “Mongo, you mouser you” I applaud. “Ahh!  This was from that deer carcass they found” I exclaim. By ‘they’ I am now including Mongo’s roommate Molly an Anatolian Sheperd .

*

At approximately 110 lbs, Molly is practically dainty in comparison to Mongo. Seeing me thusly engaged and being the good working dog that she is, Molly proceeded to make doo-doo in close proximity to my ‘dig’. Unfortunately Molly appeared to have more than a touch of the stomach flu and then concluded the demonstration by dragging her now sitting posterior across the ground for some distance. I took this as an irrefutable signal that it was now time for a break from the task and departed their yard.

*

Here in TheNorth, birch trees regularly fall victim to some kind of bug or blight and eventually, inevitably fall over. Being the marginally proactive guy that I am, I have been cutting down birch on a 600 foot stretch that parallels my driveway before they fall and block the road. The logs get pieced and split and are used for firewood but the ‘tops’ need to be gathered and disposed of, the method of choice being to burn them in a brush pile. Temporarily liberated from the Mongo project, I turned my efforts towards gathering the leftovers from the 7 or so trees I cut down this winter along the driveway. I used a small cart towed behind a riding mower to transport the branches from their driveway locations to the brush pile I’m building in the middle of the yard.

*

 As I transported and piled brush, the warm sun and dry air stirred my concern that this spring will see more wildfires in TheNorth than past years. In fact, as I finished cleaning up the remainders, I realized that my now two-story pile is likely already too big to burn given present conditions and I may need to wait for a rainy spell for its ignition. This recognition coincided with the knowledge that we may not get any rain and I may already have missed my window of opportunity.

*

With all of that as a preamble, the gang at the OTCB global headquarters shed has been mulling a renaming of what we like to call ‘The Modern Economic Depression’. We’re leaning towards changing it to ‘The Greatest Depression….Ever’. Motivating us is the accumulating evidence that, 27 months on, economic conditions are not materially improving and in fact continue to deteriorate in a most worrisome fashion.  

*

I view my labor in the yard as analogous to a number of economic policy choices that have been made or ignored. Consider, if I don’t cut the trees before they fall, my road will be blocked. If I don’t clean-up the debris and dispose of it in a timely fashion, my window of opportunity to do so will close. And in the meantime, Mongo will ensure that the shit keeps piling up. There is only one way that these issues are resolved without direct action and by merely passively waiting: catastrophic wildfire. A fire will consume the brush and waste as it consumes everything else.

*

That strikes me as an unacceptable trade. But given how warm and dry it is already, a fire may be unavoidable and I may be fighting wildfires with my Volunteer Fire Department any day.  So I will continue to break-in my new boots. And I won’t drop any more driveway trees for the time being. But if I act quickly, I might still burn my brush if I bring a fire engine over to contain its spread. And now that the snow is gone I can rapidly finish the Mongo project and then maintain it daily until next winter so he & Molly can have a decent and healthy place to live.

*

These are sensible, proper choices. Which begs the question, who in Washington has the boots on for what needs to be done there? The trees are falling, the dogs are pooping and it feels like it’s going to be a combustible summer across the Nation. My fear is that in Congress there are nothing but tassel loafers to be found.

Happy Spring!

- TomOfTheNorth

Editor’s Note: following the original publication of “Musings from TheNorth”, Mongo the St. Bernard passed away suddenly at the age of 4 in June of 2010. Mongo was a great dog and a loyal & loving friend and he will be missed greatly.

1. en-ligne-pharmacie liked this
2. outsidethe-cardboard-box posted this