FYI #NFBW: #Free #Fishing Days #Hobbies #Anglers #H2O #Freebies

Here's a fun outdoors freebie: Many states offer "Free Fishing Days" during National Fishing and Boating Week (generally in early June) when a person is allowed to fish on public bodies of water without a fishing license.

Visit http://takemefishing.org/nfbw for more information and to plan an outing that the whole family can enjoy. (I have fond childhood memories of tagging along on a few trips with my dad when he went fishing. It was fun to dig for worms.) Some people fish for food (remember to check for mercury contamination warnings depending on the body of water you plan to fish), some for sport, and others for the exercise and ambience. Being out on the water or on a bank near the water can be relaxing. Remember there's always catch and release. (Help prevent overfishing and promote sustainable ecosystems.) Enjoy the Great Outdoors!

#Bunny in the Back Forty: Oh #BeatrixPotter!

For the last several years, a family of rabbits have taken up residence in the back yard, up near the woodland. One day when out walking with pup, I spotted a good sized rabbit. The backyard trail we were following is along the edge of a wooded area, but also in the middle of a fairly developed neighborhood. I thought perhaps a child's pet had escaped back into the wild, as the bunny seemed only mildly curious at our presence.

Originally, it seems there was but a single rabbit, a pregnant mother that gave birth (or such was my assumption). But each Fall since this first encounter, whenever we're out walking around daybreak or dusk, we'll often spy several young rabbits of varying colors hopping about eating grass and seeds. (As it has been several years hence, these are presumably the children or grandchildren of the original rabbit.) I guess there's good eating in our woods, enough to sustain several generations of bunnies, at least.

They drive pup bonkers! I think she has dreams of coursing after hares (like those dogs do in Snatch, one of my favorite flicks), but luckily so far I have been able to prevent her undertaking of the sport. I have a fondness for Peter Rabbit, after all.

#Muscadine & #Scuppernong the Local #Grapes: #Viticulture & #Oenology #FruitoftheVine

Yesterday, not long after I'd finished browsing the latest issue of Wine Spectator magazine, I was checking messages online when --- my mind still apparently focused on wine --- I noticed a post on a Facebook group about an upcoming annual fruit tree sale at a local non-profit. The event ad listed apple, pear, and pawpaw among the kinds of trees that will be available to purchase and also noted there would be fruit bearing vines like muscadine for sale. My heart must have skipped a beat. KERTHUNK.

There are a few things which will always instantly recall to me the idylls of my childhood in rural Georgia and tart dark purple muscadine grapes, Vitis rotundifolia, and their sweeter "cousins," bulbous green scuppernong grapes (actually a large variety of muscadine) are one of them. My maternal grandmother had plentiful muscadine vines at her house, which were laced over and around a rough-hewn trellis approximately four feet tall, creating a dome that hid a secret "cavern" underneath. As barefoot children, we would crawl through the vines and pry an opening, then sit in the little cave while we ate our fill. The sun would dapple the leaves, casting odd shadows and warming the earth beneath us, as grape juice stained our tongues and T-shirts. Such good memories!

Therefore, I would love to cultivate my own little vineyard featuring our local grape for both food and wine. (Creating a small private vineyard is actually on my "To Do" list for my homestead once developed. Part of my desire to "live off of the land" as well as an indulgence of my interest in viticulture and oenology.) I'm so very tempted to attend this fruit tree and vine sale, but would no doubt come away with far too many things that I fear would go to waste, because I have not yet reached a point where I can accommodate a burgeoning orchard or vineyard. (I hope) by next year's sale, however, it's a date!

Those Wild & Crazy #Vikings! #Norway Ditches #FMRadio, Goes #Berserker. #DAB #BFF

I have a thing for Vikings, or perhaps, more accurately Vikings have a thing for me, because I certainly seem to attract all manner of them. (I kid you not, I was once handed a credit card and told to book myself a flight to Sweden in order to rendezvous with a certain Swede at his cabin in Göteborg --- 'twas quite the pickup line.) It's appropriate then, that one of my besties is a Viking... er... mickay... I mean, he's Norwegian.

The two of us have been good friends for well over 15 years and presumably we'll remain as such for the rest of our lives (baring his or my turning out to secretly be a serial killer or something worse). We met in California when I was still a student at university and he was working as a Silicon Valley Venture Capitalist and afterward spent a LOT of time in each other's company. We were so close that people often assumed we were a married couple when encountering us out & about, and I seemingly picked up a Norwegian inflection to my speech at times.¹

My friend and I continue to keep in touch via Skype (mainly in-app txt & Skype-to-phone), regular txt and email though he's since returned to his native Norway and I'm back in my native Georgia. We crack each other up, as we both have a sometimes acid sense of humor, coupled with a VERY secure sense of self.

An etymological aside: The English word "berserk" meaning crazed or crazy is derived from the Old Norse term bearserk, the frenzy into which bear-skin wearing Vikings or bearserkers would work themselves with all that raping and pillaging, which apparently takes a lot of energy. (You've got to respect a culture that gives yours the word for crazy.)

We spend a good deal of time ribbing each other over the various and sundry things which make our individual countries and cultures great. For instance, a month or so back an entire herd of reindeer were struck by lightning when a freak storm caught them out in the open on a random Norwegian plateau. After seeing the article on a news site, I sent him a quick Skype txt asking why Norway had it in for reindeer and pondered whether Santa Claus would be next on their "hit list."

Norway also happens to be one of the most oil-rich nations in the world and so, (circa 2003, i.e., the Iraq War) I would tease that he'd better watch out because America might "discover" Norway held WMD and use it as an excuse to invade any day now. In his turn, he, of course, laments American hubris and gets in his own zingers. We argue good-naturedly over who's selected for the Nobel Peace Prize each year ---- Norway names its recipient, while Sweden picks the recipients of the remaining Nobels --- and sometimes watch the annual Nobel concert together virtually. Between us, nothing is sacred.

On 11-01-2017 at 11:11a local time, Norway began turning off FM radio transmissions, becoming the first country to officially ditch the band, and started moving to Digital Audio Broadcasting (DAB) which proponents say will be cheaper to operate and provide more clarity of signal. Opponents, of course, worry about the Norwegians who live in far flung rural areas and who travel in older vehicles who might not be able to receive digital signals. It will be interesting to see how this plays out, but either way, it was so kind of Norway to act as world guinea pig in taking on this endeavour. I sent my friend a quick txt asking if he could still hear me now or if the broadcast signal was fuzzy where he is and attached the article. (He lives in an Oslo suburb, so I was obviously being facetious, but that's the point.)

As for the transition to DAB, as a tech geek, I like the idea of a crisp digital radio signal. And I also believe America will have to cross this same bridge soon enough --- rather like our recently completed transition to DTV. But as someone who grew up in a rural area, I can definitely understand the concerns that Norwegians in rural areas are voicing. As America is a much larger country with huge swaths of wide open spaces, such issues will no doubt be compounded for us and a solution (potentially a subsidy like that employed to assure rural America could get telephone service) will have to be found. Fun times are ahead!

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¹An explanation for my Norwegian accent: At a friend's house party in San Francisco one evening, I happened to end up standing next to some guy who was regaling everyone with tales of the years he'd spent working in Finland. He'd also traveled extensively throughout Scandinavia, he said. He kept trying to cozy up to me and at one point asked if I wanted to go back to his place, which so happened to be right around the corner. Shaking my head "no," I made an offhand excuse which elicited a very odd look from the guy (odder than being politely turned down should have elicited). When I inquired as to why he suddenly looked as if he'd seen a ghost, he responded, "This is so strange, but you just spoke with a Norwegian accent." I laughed so hard I think I probably snorted my drink through my nose. In between my peals of laughter, the poor fellow tried to find out why on earth this was so funny. I finally gasped that as I spent nearly every day hanging out with a Viking, I suppose that was fair consequence and that I'd also never hear the end of it, if said Viking ever gets wind of the fact that he's succeeding in "turning" me Norwegian.