December 11th, 2008 - POST #300!!!


Infinite Universe
Blog Post Number Three Hundred
Has Arrived!


Let's see, post number 300.
It's December 11th, I still can't accomplish my original goal for this year to post at least one post every day, but with 19 days left in the year, if I post 3.421 posts every day I have left, I can still post THREE HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FIVE posts in a year!
Hmmm. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it. 
And I'm not sure I could uphold the same "high standards of journalistic quality" (sticking finger down throat) that my dedicated public has come to expect after over a year of interpreting the Infinite Universe for you. Hawwwk Tooie!

Gave it a hell of a try though. And it ain't over yet. I wonder what Jim Brandenburg thinks.

Not available in stores.

The inimitable Pickett Model 300. If you know what this is, you come from a generation without a letter designation.

Exactly.
Now where am I going to get 300 candles at this time of night?!

December 11th, 2008 - Return of the Tongue Depressor

Well, you have to define "NOT SAFE". You mean ALL the time? You mean for non-ice fishing people? Non-Minnesotans? People with all their marbles? People that think it sane to sit out on a semi-frozen lake on a 5 gallon bucket for hours dangling a line through a hole cut in the ice? People weighing over 300 lbs including sled full of gear? People over 100 lbs.? People running REALLY, REALLY, REALLY fast?
Some time ago I attempted to explain to a non-Minnesotan what the giant "tongue-depressors" are for that you see near these signs around our beautiful lakes.
They are for THAT guy.

Trial and error. 
Two sets of tracks that go out into the only wet area in sight and then come right back in using a much increased gait.

Tourist brochure.
A nice ice-fishing shelter dragged out to the middle of the lake via sled and set by what was probably a sizable crack yesterday.
It doesn't get much better than this.
Oh, and it's every bit as cold as it looks. Even colder.

Cold blue. And that's my fingers.
When we turned down our street on the way home, Happy immediately snapped to attention and started whining. I said, "Home? Warm? Happy? Food?" and he started jumping up and down and whapping everything with his tail and whining. 
Home Warm Happy Food is our new mantra.