Prairie Ramblings

Fawn Nurseries

Karen Madorin — Fri, 07 Jun 2013 17:19:10 +0000

Years ago our family tent-camped at Slough Creek Camp Ground, a primitive site at the north end of Yellowstone National Park where wildlife is abundant and close. That particular summer, the area’s fawn population had exploded. Does led babies to the stream bank directly across from our tent. While my husband fished, transfixed little girls and I watched the tiny creatures scamper and nurse while their mommas browsed and occasionally cleaned a baby. This is my fondest memory of camping with small children.

No Place for Sissies

Karen Madorin — Fri, 31 May 2013 05:01:00 +0000

We invited a French exchange student to share our lives for six weeks one summer. Her first question after she deposited her luggage in the bedroom was, “Do you have tornadoes here?”

The Secret is Homemade

Karen Madorin — Fri, 24 May 2013 05:01:00 +0000

As a self-appointed foodie, I often watch Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives for cooking inspiration. Guy Fieri’s success at seeking eateries with reputations for amazing fare motivates me to look for excellent dining on road trips. Because of my research, I have a list of favorite restaurants. However, none of these culinary institutions matches the quality or flavor of my all-time preferred place to eat, Grandma Lottie’s kitchen.

Jelly on the Bush

Karen Madorin — Fri, 17 May 2013 22:19:23 +0000

I've heard some folks refer to cattle as, "hamburger on the hoof." With that reference in mind, I have been salivating about all the jelly on the bush that the current blossoms have been hinting at. I was disheartened by the frost that took many of my sandhill plum possibilities. As the summer progresses, I will rise to the challenge with our feathered friends to see who will be the first to the harvest.

Lilac Memories

Karen Madorin — Fri, 03 May 2013 05:01:00 +0000

Memory triggers include anything from childhood toys, favorite tunes, or scents that punch the start button on videos of our past that cycle over and over in our heads. Each spring when lilacs bloom, I get a full two weeks of scented prompts that start those mind movies rolling.

First Hunt

Karen Madorin — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 05:01:00 +0000

Parents mark children’s lives by firsts: tooth, word, step, and day of school. As youngsters mature, these memorable moments come further apart. However, for a youngster who hunts, this list continues to grow. If my husband and his friends’ experiences are any indication, this record not only lengthens but is infinite. Hunters live for their stories, which always include a first. Perhaps this is a hunter’s way to cling to childhood’s elusive magic.

The One Day a Year It's Okay to Knock and Run

Karen Madorin — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 05:01:00 +0000

How many remember dancing in a circle while weaving long ribbons around a May Pole or making construction paper baskets covered with crayon drawings? Afterwards, flowers picked from the yard or a kind neighbor’s garden filled those paper baskets. Once you loaded your baskets with fragrant blooms, you sneaked from door to door to hang your homemade containers. At each house, you’d knock and then run like crazy to avoid detection. May Day was one of my favorite holidays from earliest childhood.

Blooming Turkeys

Karen Madorin — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 05:01:00 +0000

Outback Steakhouse may advertise blooming onions, but I know where turkeys bloom in green fields near my house. Like a rose going from a tight bud to full summer bloom, those big ol’ gobblers put on a show. Puffing their feathers and spreading their fan-shape tails into a full blown sail, they strut and rattle. All this action occurs to woo nearby hens that coyly scan the area for insects and greens.

Spring Concert

Karen Madorin — Fri, 05 Apr 2013 05:01:00 +0000

For some, spring heralds the arrival of green leaves and flowers. For others, it is a time to plant the garden in anticipation of summer’s bounty. For me, spring signals the opportunity to fall asleep each night to nature’s jam sessions and to awaken to her symphonies in the morning.

Eggs and Antlers

Karen Madorin — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 05:01:00 +0000

I hated leaving childhood and the annual Easter morning search for hidden goodies behind. Until I discovered shed hunting, the adult equivalent of a child’s egg hunt, I didn’t know grown-ups could still experience the thrill of finding well-hidden treasure, in this case antlers camouflaged by tall grass. My husband introduced me to this spring ritual soon after we met. Discovering that first drop thrilled me the same way finding Easter prizes brightened my early years.

The Return of the Herons

Karen Madorin — Fri, 22 Mar 2013 05:01:00 +0000

When I think of Great Plains birds I usually think of meadowlarks, hawks, and crows. In this dry country, I don’t think of water birds with their long legs and necks as typical. Yet these herons have made the plains home longer than European immigrants have. Their limbs have adapted for wading our shallow creeks and rivers, and their bills make perfect spears to impale unwary fish and frogs.

The Goose at the End of the Rainbow

Karen Madorin — Fri, 15 Mar 2013 05:01:00 +0000

Shamrocks, leprechauns, pots o’ gold make me think instantly of St. Patrick’s Day, a joyous spring celebration. As a child, I was sure the old stories must be true and anyone lucky enough to stumble upon the rainbow’s end would find a leprechauns’ pot of gold. I was also certain that mortals rarely, if ever, find that arc’s end.

Brown Creeper Therapy

Karen Madorin — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 06:01:00 +0000

The months after Christmas until mid-to late March are the most difficult of the year in my opinion. Spring and summer have always warmed my heart as well as my back as I bend over tomato plants in the garden or flowers in their beds. Over time, I have learned to love fall with all its color and pre-cold weather symphonies even though I know what comes next. But winter—I struggle with. It takes effort to celebrate long, colorless days.

When Nature Calls, Don't Answer

Karen Madorin — Fri, 01 Mar 2013 06:01:00 +0000

Despite a flu shot and obsessive hand washing to avoid this season’s germ, it found me. If folks tell you it’s bad, believe them. If they add it lasts forever, it’s true. After a week and a half indoors, struggling to overcome primary and secondary symptoms, cabin fever set in. Climbing the walls had new meaning. I needed a dose of outdoor therapy to help me battle sniffles, coughs, and headaches left in the wake of this super virus.

Ribbons of Birds

Karen Madorin — Thu, 21 Feb 2013 21:14:35 +0000

One of my favorite parts of wrapping presents is creating pretty designs with all kinds of ribbon. The paper corners may not be so sharp as one might wish, but I love using scissors to stretch skinny little green or red Christmas trim into dangling sausage curls. Somehow sparkly spools of foil, scissors, and tape bring out the creative in me, and I find myself making loop de loops and fleur de lis on my loved one’s gifts. I’m not sure skill matches imagination, but I love playing with strands of fabric and paper.

Great Plains, Small Town Hearts

Karen Madorin — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 06:01:00 +0000

Over a decade ago, I lucked into a National Endowment for the Humanities Seminar titled The Great Plains: Texas to Saskatchewan. For five weeks, Tom Isern led 19 other teachers and I to read and analyze literary and historical texts, discuss conclusions, and visit iconic sites to better understand what it means to live on the plains.

Life Cycles From Auction Buyer to Seller

Karen Madorin — Fri, 08 Feb 2013 06:01:00 +0000

All my married life, I’ve loved attending local auctions. Part of the charm of these gatherings is seeing friends and neighbors and catching up with one another’s busy lives or listening to the auctioneer’s clever patter. Another reason these events draw me is the chance to see history and sometimes buy a little chunk of someone else’s story. Unfortunately, there comes a time when those little pieces of other’s lives add up to enough stuff to clutter my closets to overflowing. Before anything bursts, I need to take action.

Trophy Dust Bunnies

Karen Madorin — Fri, 01 Feb 2013 06:01:00 +0000

Athletes compete to make the play-offs. If effort and luck shine on coaches, managers, players, owners, and fans, two franchises make it to games such as the Superbowl, World Series, Stanley Cup or other legendary competitions. Olympians dedicate four years to earn those few seconds or minutes they have to claim gold. Hunters spend seasons seeking the biggest buck, bull elk, caribou or other record setting trophy to decorate the family room. After a week of packing a house we lived in for 16 years, I have decided homemakers need their own prize.

Life Away From the Lens

Karen Madorin — Fri, 25 Jan 2013 06:01:00 +0000

I swore I would never be a woman who lived her life behind a camera lens. I wanted to live in the moment, experiencing life as it occurred.

I achieved this goal until I received a Nikon that captures moments up close and from considerable distance with clicks of a silver button. Using that telescopic lens, I could see fine details my unaided eye used to see as blurs.

Sunset Memories

Karen Madorin — Fri, 18 Jan 2013 06:01:00 +0000

Skilled technicians with the right equipment create concert and video light shows that dazzle viewers. An important component of such expertise is that anyone, anywhere can ooh and aah at color and light shifting like a living kaleidoscope. Kansans don’t have to wait for light shows to come to town. They only have to look west each evening to enjoy award-winning productions the setting sun and our clear atmosphere create daily.

For the Love of Wildness

Karen Madorin and Karen Ma — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 06:01:00 +0000

A while back, I read a book titled For Love of Wildness by retired Game Warden Terry Grosz. I wish I’d found it earlier in my marriage to help me understand my husband’s love for his work. This time of year, I always needed a good reminder of why he chose his profession and why he devoted so much time and energy that wasn’t always appreciated.

Discarded Christmas Trees

Karen Ma — Fri, 04 Jan 2013 17:18:43 +0000

Driving around local communities in January, one is sure to spot the Christmas tree mulch site. Some of the trees tossed willy-nilly inside bright orange snow-fence sport strands of tinsel, all that remains of their holiday décor. These annual tugs at my heartstrings should not surprise me since discarded Christmas trees never fail to trigger a sad moment.

Dust Storms and Attacking Tumbleweeds

Karen Madorin and Karen Ma — Fri, 28 Dec 2012 06:01:00 +0000

Growing up, I heard story after story about the Dust Bowl from my parents and grandparents. Dad described his mother shoveling rather than sweeping post-storm drifts. Grandma told how she placed wet sheets over her children’s beds to protect their lungs as they slept. She’d launder the linens the next day because they got so dirty.

Clearing the Air

Karen Madorin and Karen — Fri, 21 Dec 2012 06:01:00 +0000

In China that was the year of the horse or sheep or some such beast. Around my country home, it was the fall of the skunk.

Driving up our 1/8 mile long entry road the other night, I counted four black and white creatures in my headlights. Since those were visible, who knows how many stinky little pests ran around outside my vision.

What I Learned Living with a Bow Hunter

Karen Madorin and Kar — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 21:22:56 +0000

I grew up in a hunting household. My dad made an annual pheasant pilgrimage to Kansas. He also spent time stalking javelina and deer in Arizona, but he was always a rifle hunter.

Swagger and Blink

Karen Madorin — Fri, 07 Dec 2012 06:01:00 +0000

If junior high dances are anything like they used to be, on the way inside, you pass noisy boys jostling one another for dominance. You hear snippets of saucy trash talk, see manly posturing with exaggerated shoulders and aggressive chins, as well as smell a mixture of colognes designed to tantalize the fairer sex awaiting that evening’s Prince Charming.

Lucky Hunters

Karen Madorin — Fri, 30 Nov 2012 06:01:00 +0000

After every rifle season, lucky hunters celebrate their success stories, recounting details of the hunt to their friends and anyone else who will listen. Over the years, I have heard many a tale about the one little turn of good fortune that transformed the ordinary hunt into the extraordinary hunt. One story I never heard ought to be told because that hunter is the luckiest of them all.

Autumn Sounds Different

Karen Madorin — Thu, 29 Nov 2012 22:18:24 +0000

Autumn sounds different on our rocky hilltop. As the temperature drop and days grow shorter, life looks and sounds considerably altered than it did just six weeks ago. We have new guests at the bird feeder while other frequent diners headed South weeks ago.

Ancient Rock Connects Women Past and Present

Karen Madorin — Fri, 16 Nov 2012 06:01:00 +0000

Weekend trips were my father’s favorite way to unwind. One of his favorite getaways was a ranch east of San Diego along the Mexican border. Semi-arid and craggy, it’s mystique appealed to me as well. It was a relief to escape the crowded Los Angeles basin to this uncomplicated ranch nestled amidst sage-dotted hills. The land’s sparse vegetation and up-thrust boulders made it difficult for man or beast to inhabit.

Orange and Black Ellis Bugs

Karen Madorin — Fri, 09 Nov 2012 06:01:00 +0000

Like death and taxes, I count on box elder beetles invading every year. These nuisances creep into every crack and crevice of our house, silently multiplying until nowhere is sacred. I have even had them fall off a showerhead while I shampooed my hair.
Unfortunately, I don’t know much about these creatures other than that they show up like a bad penny every fall. They squeeze through airtight windows, out of electrical sockets, and under door jambs like Mongol hordes. What lures them, I don’t know.