Wannaskan Almanac

     The U.S. is often compared to the Roman Empire, usually by people who are saying the U.S. is going downhill. That may be true about the U.S. but, as a historian said, empires take a long time to fall. The Roman Empire lasted about a thousand years if you count the Republic that preceded the Empire, so we have a ways to go to equal Rome's longevity.    Any empire, even at its peak, has many problems. There's never enough money. The poor are neglected. The old are sometimes mugged in the street. But at least there's stability. When an empire starts having multiple rulers in a single year, you can foresee the end, but even then it's hard to predict the final fall.    For perspective, the Empire is said to have ended in 475 A.D. when the last Roman emperor was deposed. The year when there were four emperors took place in 69 A.D. It was a hint of things to come, but the Empire still had a good run ahead of it.  After Nero committed suicide in 69, ...

    I’ve looked through, what appears to be, all my Wannaskawriter and Wannaskan Almanac posts of the past eight years 2018-2026 looking for a story I thought I wrote about my white German Shepherd, Jake. I must have written it in THE RAVEN:   Northwest Minnesota’s Original Art, History, & Humor Journal 1994-2018,   but I’ll not go looking for it there. No point, because although this is a true story about my dog, the reason I’m publishing it in this form is purely for its penmanship; a craft I once did in profusion, that I can no longer do due to the atheosis of my right hand. Some days I can write as well as I ever did, but other days it’s barely-readable script.    I went to an inner-city trades/technical high school in Des Moines, Iowa, back in the sixties thinkin' I was going to become a veterinarian. Instead, I let mathematics intimidate me; (if you saw my math scores, you'd understand.) Mid-stream, I decided I might as well do something that...

And here is the Wannaskan Almanac with Word-Wednesday for April 8, 2026, the fourteenth Wednesday of the year, the third Wednesday of spring, the second Wednesday of April, and the ninety-eighth day of the year, with two-hundred sixty-seven days remaining. Wannaska Phenology Update for April 8, 2026 Cowbird Molothrus armenti — asiginaak, in Anishinaabe — returns to Wannaska, one of our stranger migrants. The genus name combines the Ancient Greek mōlos , meaning "struggle" or "battle", with thrōskō , meaning "to sire" or "to impregnate"; the English name "cowbird", first recorded in 1839, refers to this species often being seen near cattle. Both monikers relate to different features of cowbird strangeness. First, cowbirds reproduce by laying their eggs in other birds' nests. Female cowbirds observe a potential host bird laying its eggs, and when the nest is left momentarily unattended, the cowbird lays its own egg in it. The female ...

If you haven’t heard of The Rusty Neon Philharmonic, buckle up—your playlists are about to get a whole lot more interesting. This genre‑bending powerhouse has been quietly building a cult following in basements, barns, rooftops, and the occasional abandoned shopping mall. Their sound is the kind of thing you try to describe to a friend and end up waving your hands around like you’re conducting an orchestra made of cowboys, DJs, and classical violinists who all met at a truck stop. What makes The Rusty Neon Philharmonic so mesmerizing is their fearless fusion of styles. They don’t just blend urban beats with country twang—they braid them together like a musical rope strong enough to tow a semi. One minute you’re nodding along to a gritty hip‑hop rhythm, the next you’re floating on a cloud of violins, and before you can catch your breath, a steel guitar slides in like it owns the place. It shouldn’t work, but somehow it does. Their lead vocalist, known only as “Cricket McCoy,” has a voic...

 It's Easter Monday, and I'm suffering from whiplash. In a single week, I've walked with Jesus through palm-branch praise, sharp-thorn scourging, crucifixion, and finally an empty-tomb triumph promising glory. I love ritual, and have spent many hours in church reflecting on this story. Yet sometimes, it's all too much—the speed, the pace, the grueling Ordeal. Then, suddenly, a celebration with pastel colors and chocolate eggs. Call me a downer, but as a therapist, I worry about the optics. About misunderstandings. Like Jesus carrying his cross, real-life troubles weigh heavy and rub people raw. In ordinary lives, challenges take years to emerge and unfold. I feel protective of people caught in the web of day-to-day turmoils. Marital turmoil can last for years. Illnesses drag on and down. Work failures stop us cold, as do lives stalled by illness, addiction, depression, and betrayals. Sometimes we hang in numbly, or we look for the push-button fix, whatever gets us throu...

  The Palmville Globe Volume 2 Number 10 Man Repairs Natural History Exhibit Joe McDonnell, 79 and residing in Palmville Twp, Minnesota, recently glued the telson back onto the carapace of a horseshoe crab. "I found this baby horseshoe crab on a beach on the east coast. They are very fragile when dried and should be kept in a safe place, but I like guests to see them," McDonnell tells the press. He says he wasn't surprised when the long telson or pointer broke off the body. "It was tricky gluing the telson back onto the carapace or body because the parts are so light. I used a light duty rubber band to hold the carapace to a block of wood, dabbed a small amount of Gorilla Glue™️between the carapace and the telson and rested the end of the telson on another block of wood and left my repair overnight. It's now in a safe place in my museum." McDonnell reported later that people think the horeseshoe crab uses its sharp telson to stab the soles of people walking ...