NRHEG Star Eagle

137 Years Serving the New Richland-Hartland-Ellendale-Geneva Area
Newspaper of Record for NRHEG School District
Newspaper of Record for Waseca County, MN
PO Box 248 • New Richland, MN 56072

507-463-8112
email: steagle@hickorytech.net
Published every Thursday
Yearly Subscription: Waseca, Steele, and Freeborn counties: $52
Minnesota $57 • Out of state $64

Echoes from the Loafers' Club Meeting

I almost bought some exercise equipment.

Why didn’t you?

The guy at the store where I was going to buy it said that I’d have to carry it to my car.


Driving by the Bruces

I have two wonderful neighbors — both named Bruce — who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: When someone picks up his cellphone, everyone else does, too. Whoever sits in the middle seats of an aircraft should earn more frequent flyer miles than those in other seats. Why trust the media regarding the economy when you can listen to your cousin's neighbor's brother-in-law who hasn't worked in 25 years?


The cafe chronicles

I stopped at a lighthouse in North Carolina to use the little lighthouse, if you know what I mean. The lighthouse was like Tom Bodett’s commercial for Motel 6; they kept a light on. They kept it on all night. It was probably a low-energy light bulb. I wonder how many lighthouse keepers it takes to change a light bulb? I ran into some friends there. They asked if I wanted to go to the beach and get something to eat. I said I shore would. I had an Elvis at an eatery named The Point. It was a grilled sandwich with peanut butter, banana, and applewood bacon.

It was powerful good, but it wasn’t health food.

John Mortimer said, "I refuse to spend my life worrying about what I eat. There’s no pleasure worth forgoing just for an extra three years in the geriatric ward.”

The weather was beautiful, but it's not always so in that area. It's a place that is hit with hurricanes and nor'easters. Those strong winds are why some businesses end up overseas.


A dear and a deer

"Are you going out of the house looking like that?" my wife asked. 

How do I answer that question? I couldn't say "No," because that would mean I couldn't leave the house. I couldn't say "Yes," because that wouldn't work on many levels. This happens regularly at the Batt house. I have no concept of color coordination. My wife knows that, but I still try to keep it a secret. 

It's no way to treat a man who has developed the ability to sleep wrong. For many ailments, sleep helps. If you sleep wrong, more sleep might not be the cure.

Besides, I’d hit a deer. Not the whole deer, just an antler. It was the first deer I've ever hit. 

A neighbor was working a farm field near a state park. His father had told him to drive slowly because of the great number of deer in the area. He drove slow. His vehicle was hit in the rear by a deer. 

I hit a cow once when I was 17 years old. I was just lucky that I wasn’t on foot. Such occurrences are how cars develop personalities. The front end of my old Ford plowed into the rear end of a beef cow. The cow won. The car made mooing sounds for the rest of its existence.

My car had escaped damage from the poor deer except for a flat tire. A tine had stabbed the tire. I hadn’t changed a tire in 20 years. It was the opposite of fun.

I recall riding home with a friend when I was 17 when his ancient Chevy suffered a flat tire. That was no problem for the likes of us. We changed flat tires as often as we changed underwear. That’s what happens when your tires are at best retreads and more often junkyard rejects. The night was as dark as your favorite simile. We had a flashlight that refused to shine. Even so, we managed to remove the hubcap from the injured tire and place it on the ground. We skillfully employed a lug wrench to remove the lug nuts. 

We put the lug nuts into the hubcap just as we’d been taught by our fathers. That made it easy to find them when they needed to be put back on. We were doing things lickety-split.

Then my buddy stepped on the hubcap. This catapulted the lug nuts into the air. We couldn’t see them fly, but our keen ears heard them land in the grassy ditch with a series of small thumps. Our cherubic demeanors had flown with them.

It became a longer night.


Nature notes

Birds can bathe in the winter because the feathers of healthy birds shed most of the water, preventing it from leaking through to the insulating down and skin. 


Meeting adjourned

"I saw that." —Karma

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