Opinion

What nutjobs dared to dream this big? What absolute madmen thought this would work? What kind of raving lunatics thought they could pull this off?

As the gardening season comes to a close, I can officially claim somewhat success on this year’s attempt at a garden. Two raised beds constructed, bags of dirt hauled one by one up the hill to the back yard, piles of branches gathered for fill in the bottom of the garden beds, and a whole lot of effort at starting seeds in the house late winter/early spring later - I grew and harvested some things.

October is the scariest month of the year. I’m not sure why. Maybe because fall symbolizes our transition into a season of death. Maybe because winter’s too cold to be scary and summer can’t possibly be scary if it’s also the season of the tank top.

Usually the Meander Arts Crawl weekend is a magnificently chilly, fall-like time, with a lovely array of fall colors guiding the drive through the Minnesota River Valley to all of the artists studios.

October is the month where everyone tries to scare me. They plant ghosts and goblins and witches and skeletons in their front yard. And, yes, if you’re into property values, then clutter is indeed a bit scary. Then again, if the goal really is to frighten me, why on earth would you dress these decorations up in funny costumes? I’ve seen skeletons sporting scarecrow garb. Are they trying to scare me or the crows? I’ve seen ghosts donning sunglasses, Goblins rocking Norwegian sweaters, and witches looking less like they’re about to take to the air than they’re about to sweep up.

Last week, I was invited to speak to a group of college students at Southwest Minnesota State University about journalism. It wasn’t lost on me that my very first speaking engagement ever was also to a group of college students about journalism, however this time it was much different.

In general, my life is pretty good. The family is healthy. The work is satisfying. The Wife, while she didn’t read the last column, promises to read the next.

Last Wednesday, I took part in a panel discussion in front of a room full of people at Pie, Place and Possibility: Rural Assembly Everywhere Gathering and Watch Party that began at The YES! House in Granite Falls, and ended at Bluenose Gopher Public House to do something I’ve dreaded for weeks - talking in front of people. In actuality, there’s been, recently, more times than I can count on one hand that I’ve been engaged in public speaking.

Every so often, my phone buzzes—and it’s not a pal, not a loved one, not Ted from accounting asking if he can expense a banana. It’s a stranger. A phisherman, casting a line. It’s not my neighbor Phil who fishes for fish with esoteric lures, bless him.