Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting

I have good news and I have bad news.

Give me the good news first.

OK, I can’t remember the bad news.

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 a man hears, “Bring a dish to pass,” he thinks, “Potato chips.” I know when I need to get new eyeglasses. If I can’t read the baseball box scores in the newspapers, it’s time. Bike shorts scare more kids than horror movies do.

Aiming for Ames

I saw a car in Ames, Iowa, that was nearly covered with bumper stickers. That’s why I don’t have a bumper sticker on my car. Apparently, once you start putting on bumper stickers, you don’t know where or when to stop. I saw a minivan in Ames that had stick figure decals of a family unit on its back window. There was a decal of the mother, two kids, a dog and a cat. It was evident the representation of the father had been scraped off, leaving a ghostly image.

There was a story there

As I drove on a busy highway where the goal of each car was to pass the car ahead of it, it seemed as if fast-moving drivers were anxious to be on the bleeding edge of travel. It’s difficult not to succumb to peer pressure and be pulled into that silly and speedy competition. I was about to join that ridiculous race when I saw a hearse. It was driving the minimum speed. There was no need to hurry. There was literally no time to lose. The sprint of life was over for someone. I think most drivers slowed their pace. I know I did.

Those thrilling days of yesteryear

I helped a neighbor bale hay. The pay wasn’t much and he didn’t offer any health insurance benefits, but there were no walls and the ceiling was magnificent. The lack of monetary rewards was of little concern. I didn’t need much. I spent more time on a hayrack than in a store. I wasn’t much of a shopper then and I’m not much of a shopper now. I know why I’m that way. I was frightened by a back-to-school sale when I was a youngster.

POW Camp Museum in Algona, Iowa

As World War II wore on, labor shortages became common. German prisoners of war offered a solution. Camp Algona was responsible for 34 branch camps in Iowa, Minnesota, North Dakota and South Dakota. More than 10,000 prisoners spent some time there from April 1944 to February 1946. The 287-acre camp included a 150-bed hospital and dispensary staffed by American and German medical personnel. It had 178 wood-frame buildings and a 65-acre garden. The prisoners were paid a wage of 10 cents per hour while working at farms and factories, not to exceed 80 cents per day. Prisoners spent their free time engaging in athletics, the arts and scholarly endeavors. Today, it’s the location of a National Guard armory and the Algona airport. The museum honors 2,600 Kossuth County veterans of World War II. A photo of a family member who died in that war has found a home there.

I learned on my visit to this fine museum that the German prisoners were treated well. That was good to know and it was what I’d expected. If only WWII had been the war to end all wars.

Nature notes

Nuthatches cache food to consume later. There aren’t many safe places to store food out there, as other creatures are watching and searching constantly. A nuthatch practices scatter hoarding, hiding food in many locations, in the hopes that some would remain hidden. Other animals do the same thing. Squirrels come quickly to mind. I’ve watched crows and jays pilfering acorns hidden by squirrels. I’ve noted that nuthatches like to cache hulled sunflower seeds. I reckon the seeds make for fast and easy storing in the crevices of tree bark. A study found that the most active time for caching is early in the day with most food being cached within 45 feet of the feeder.

Meeting adjourned

“Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.”—John Wesley