We're Heading For The Hills

Time to head up to God's Country. Being the neglectful son that I am, the fam has not been up to Cambridge for a couple of months. After work I head over to the Evil Grandmother and Dreadful Man's place to pick up the kids. Then it's off to Oma and Opa's. Sorry folks, The Other Younger Half is staying home to rub nekkid people at the Massage Parlour. But bringing the kids up will balance out the disappointment everyone feels when I get up there. Way back in the day when I would tell everyone I was coming up, I would be asked excitedly, "Is Tacy coming?" "No," I would answer, "She has to work." "Oh," was the entirely crestfallen response. I would bring one of the bikes up there, but it might rain and my legs need a rest. I've done about 170 miles since Sunday and I'm feeling a bit achey.

It was a funny thing growing up in Isanti County a German among all the Swedes. One of my closest friends from college, The Man With The Flaming Head That Is Not Consumed, (he had reddish hair) was exceedingly proud of his Swedish heritage and boasted of their advanced culture/civilization. He was in a similar situation as me, being that he was a Swede growing up around all the Germans in Sibley County. "How is it," I would ask him, "That the Swedes with their supposedly superior intellegence, would settle and start farming in Isanti County on land that alternates between clay, sand, rocks, hills, and trees; and the stupid Germans are all down in flat Sibley County with "black dirt" as far as the eye can see?" No answer. Oma's father did even better than Sibley County. He got off the boat and headed for Northern Iowa ending up in the thriving metropolis of Ruud. Unfortunately, the intellegence gene skipped me and The Man With The Flaming Head That Is Not Consumed went on to get a doctorate from Harvard. Go figure.