Sarah was startled by a bat in the outhouse tonight. Or she thought it was a bat. Then she discovered a nest in the corner with four baby northern flying squirrels! This is cool, of course, but we’re also sad that we have disturbed the nest. Our best guess, based on Internet research, is that they are around 20 days old — thick fur, but eyes not open yet. We’re hoping they can survive this disruption.
The nest — they made good use of a roll of toilet paper.You can’t quite see the patagium (“wing” membrane), but it was clearly visible as they moved.Cozy! (You can see its patagium in this picture, a folded bit of flesh under its belly.)
Update: We were relieved to find that mama squirrel took her kiddos to a safer nest overnight. The outhouse is no place to raise a family.
Spring break = five epic days of adventure at the cabin.
(And time to serialize the experience!)
Chapter I — Crevasse
Our adventures began as we drove up the dirt road to the cabin and discovered a section covered with thick ice. The culvert under the road had frozen solid so a marshy stream began trickling over the road. In the course of the winter it produced a few feet of thick, glacier-like ice. (It had the same blue color associated with glacial ice.) This was only a mild obstacle due to loss of traction until we encountered the crevasse—water had cut a channel directly across the road, easily two feet deep. On our way in we didn’t spot it in time and jolted across it. If it had been any wider, it would have been bad news. As it was, it just gave the shocks a workout. (A neighboring cabin owner with sharper eyes turned back rather than trusting his car to make it.) On our way out on Monday we laid logs inside it to provide support for the tires.
Pointing upslope, where the meltwater cut into the ice.Griffin, measuring the depth.We were lucky that it wasn’t any wider.
Chapter II — Lake Ice
One of our main goals this trip was to cross Spring Lake and to continue exploring the trails on the south bank. (I would link to a post about our January skiing and snowshoeing adventures, but I haven’t posted it yet. Must remedy that soon.) Unfortunately, the lake ice was thinning and we weren’t brave enough to cross. We saw some ice fishermen out on our first day, so we assumed it was solid, but upon scouting we found too many dicey areas for comfort. Hearing the ice loudly crack beneath my feet sent me scurrying for shore. With the warming weather the lake remained vocal throughout the trip, providing a soundtrack of otherworldly groans, crystalline pops and cracks, and occasional booming detonations.
Spring Lake
Preparing to head out
Scouting the ice
Sarah demonstrating some ice safety techniques
By Sarah’s feet you can see one or our ski trails from January.
Contemplating an icy plunge.
Chapter III — Bushwhacking
Deciding to remain on the north shore, we went on some extended hikes, including one where we left the trail and bushwhacked for a few hours. We clambered over (and under) fallen trees, examined fairy doors on mossy tree trunks, debated the origin of animal spoor, and got remarkably confused about our location. (Google Maps, of course, sorted things out for us, but we were astonished at how quickly the unfamiliar landscape threw off our direction sense once we left the trail.) The pictures below, from a few different hikes, don’t do justice to the beauty. Click on any image to see a larger version with the option of viewing all of them as a slideshow.
I have a very seriously disappointed girl who was crushed to discover that her new dress, passed on from a neighbor, does not in fact make her “fly like a birdie.”
I received the most awesome gift from Griffin yesterday after school: a hand-written note that he spent 70 (!!!!) minutes composing and writing. My heart is bursting! It reads:
Dear Mom, Thank you for the notes. They make me feel good. I love you, momo. I want to make granola.
<I write him notes in his lunchbox everyday, and that day, we planned to make granola after school.>
We had planned another jaunt to the cabin for the long weekend, but wind chill is -25° here in Saint Paul at nearly noon and quite a bit lower than that in Duluth. With the road to the cabin potentially blocked with snow (requiring some significant hiking with heavy gear and children) we decided to stay put. Had a fabulous breakfast at the Birchwood (pork belly steamed bun with egg and kimchi was outstanding) and then came home to make some Valentine’s Day cookies. Coming up this afternoon, Griffin has circus school, and then we’re going to the East Side Freedom Library to hear Claire O’Connor, one of the six Minnesota freedom riders, tell her story. Pretty good day!
Sarah and I went on a great date to the Fitzgerald Theatre to see A Prairie Home Companion. We went partly to see Nellie McKay, who was amazing, but I’ve also always wanted to see Garrison Keillor in action. I have mixed feelings about the show in general, often rolling my eyes and changing stations when it comes on. But I have also, at times, appreciated both the full show and Keillor’s storytelling in particular.
It was a treat to see the show in action. It’s the first genuinely live radio show I’ve seen, and it was a impressive to see so many acts flow together seamlessly. Nellie McKay was certainly the highlight for both of us, but I also enjoyed watching Keillor do the Lake Woebegone segment, strolling around the dark stage weaving the tale with no notes.
Prairie Home Companion live at the Fitzgerald Theatre
My advisory group came up with this idea and had a lot of fun with it. This was going to be our yearbook photo, but the form factor was wrong so we had to recompose the shot. I haven’t seen the new one yet, but I thought this one deserved to be published somewhere.
