Behind the Lines: by David Heiller

David Heiller Bees are a small part of my life, but one that I like. They only sting when they are mad. They are like people in that way. I have one hive of bees. That isn’t much, even though a hive can contain 80,000 bees. A few of them stung me on Sunday when I took half of their honey away. I couldn’t blame them. I was late in taking the honey, as Nick Worobel pointed out on September 21. He was a master beekeeper in his day, first in Ukraine then in rural Bruno. Now he lives in the big city of Sandstone. When I told him I was going to take the honey on Sunday, a wistful look flickered across his face and he smiled. “Make sure you feed the bees when you are done,” he said, after reminding me that I was about a month late in my job. “Mix half sugar and half water and set it on top of hive. They like that.” Good old Nick will be giving bee advice on his deathbed, which hopefully will be many years away. One of David's beekeeping chores. This is a  spring job...

David Heiller I like to swallow a clove of garlic every morning. It’s supposed to be good for your hea rt. It’s supposed to help you lose weight. I swallowed a clove last Thursday at 6 a.m. I knew I was in trouble as soon as I swallowed it. It hung in the back of my throat, then slipped down my gullet like a boat anchor. Somewhere pa rt way down—not all the way down—it stopped. When it came time for breakfast, I couldn’t eat. I tried one bite of bread, and it also went part way down and stopped. I took a drink of water. It went pa rt way down, and stopped. No problem, I thought. The garlic will work its way south, and I’ll soon be able to eat and drink. But that didn’t happen. Not at 10 a.m. Not at noon. Not at 2 p.m. That garlic clove was lodged in my throat. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t bother my voice or my breathing. But I couldn’t eat or drink, and this was not the way I like to lose weight. At about 2:30 I called Gateway Clinic in Sandstone. I was hoping my doc...

David Heiller I started thinking about marriage at an early age. Our seventh grade class was putting on a Thanksgiving play, The Courtship of Miles Standish, at school. I had the role of the minister. Toward the end of the play, the pilgrims made a circle and gave thanks for their blessings. I led the prayer. “Let us bow our heads in Holy Matrimony,” I began. Ann Conrad, standing next to me, started giggling. She thought that was the greatest joke. I didn’t even know what I had said. It had sounded official, something a pilgrim would say. But he wouldn’t have said it to Ann Conrad. Now, some 22 years later, the subject of Holy Matrimony has been raised again, and once again, I’m the culprit. It all started as a joke. Mollie was talking about her best friend at the day care. “I really like Bobbi Jo,” she said. Grandma O watches as a very small Malika puts the pieces of the puzzle in place. “She’s a pretty good egg,” I answered in one of my standard lines....

David Heiller The first day of school has changed around our house. Not too many years ago, the kids looked forward to returning to school. It was an exciting, nervous time. They wanted to see their old friends. They knew they would meet a few new ones. They were curious about their teachers. Those early years of the first-day-of-school photos were really fun. (Noah is in first grade, Malika in kindergarten.) When Dave Nyrud would pull up into the driveway with his school bus at 7:10 or so, they would jostle each other in an attempt to get on first. I couldn’t talk the kids out of getting on the school bus on the first day of school, but it wouldn’t take much talking now. For about the past three weeks, they have been lamenting the end of summer and the start of school. I wouldn’t say the kids hate school. That’s too strong a word. But somewhere along the line, they have grown to not like it very much. School used to be mostly fun. Now it’s mostly work. That’s n...

David Heiller Cindy has a calendar on her desk that has interesting sayings on it for every day of the year, except for the weekends, when two days are combined together. Sometimes she hands me a saying on a busy day, when the phone is ringing and the com­puter is crashing, and I just glance at it before sending it flying into the waste basket. I could probably benefit from those notes, but I don’t take the time to let them soak in. But when she handed me the one reprinted at right, I stopped and read it and actually saved it, which must be the ultimate compliment to people who create daily calendars. It sums up what I feel a lot these days. There isn’t a day that goes by this time of year when something from the garden doesn’t end up on the table. If you have a garden, I bet you feel the same way. Even the little ones are pleased with the bounty! Cauliflower, broccoli, potatoes, onions, pep­pers, cucumbers, carrots, and beets are all tak­ing their turns on ...

David Heiller We took a trip to Brownsville to see my mother last weekend. It wasn’t the best weekend to go, what with the Askov Fair and the Festival of the Little People both going on. I don’t think the two events conflicted with each other. There aren’t many little people at the Askov Fair, at least not after they stop at the æ bleskiver stand. Æbleskiver , YUM! George Clegg used to be one of the first customers at the æ bleskiver stand. He said that eating æ bleskiver at the Askov Fair was like eating a hotdog at a ballpark. It just tasted better there. George is back to stay in Askov now. His relatives scattered his ashes on the old family farm three miles northwest of Askov during the fair. Rutabaga Days went fine without me. I felt guilty about missing it. As soon as I would start feeling better, Jay Eull would ask me if I was going to the fair, so I would feel guilty again. He asked me at least twice a day. Jay’s a good guy, really. But life is such that ...

David Heiller Sue greeted us with a box of tomatoes on Saturday night. Sue Hulsether called a dance and left her calling card: a box of tomatoes! She had come to call a dance, and she figured someone might need a few tomatoes. She had more than she could use. A few people took some over the course of the evening, but most of them are sitting on our kitchen counter right now, along with the cucumbers and zucchini that I took to work last week. We have more cukes and zukes than we can use, so I passed a few of them off to my co-workers. Then Robin at work asked if anyone could use some squash. She planted quite a few, and although they aren’t quite ripe, she can already see a surplus, and is planning for their distribution. She has more than she can use. She was following the footstep of Jill, who had given me a feed bag full of sweet corn a week earlier. She couldn’t use it all. All of this made me realize that we have another season in Minnesota going on right now...