Wannaskan Almanac

Hello and welcome to a goofy Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is November 7th. I'm 5/12ths of the way through my 51st year. Hunters are out and about gleefully tromping through the woods, taking up residence in their deer stands, eager to get a big one sooner rather than later. Weather forecast looks good with a high of 53. We aren't hunters at our house, but we can get excited for our neighbors and peeps. It's good to feel good. Passing it along now to the Kid-Writer-in-Training to provide our WA readers - or, as he would say, "Weaders" - some updates in his own words! As you would think, all of my friends are going hunting. Or playing hockey this weekend. So I have nothing to do. Thankfully, I have a different adventure. I get to go to Brainerd with my mom. We're going to be leaving "at the butt crack of dawn," as my mom says. The reason for leaving super early is because it's a 4-hour trip all the way down to Brainerd. We are gonn...

  I'm on my eighth pope. Leo XIV is a young man so I pray he's my last. When I first arrived on the scene, Pope Pius XII had already been on the job eight years. He had been elected to the papacy in 1939, just as WWII was breaking out. He has a controversial legacy. Some say he failed to speak out against the Holocaust. His supporters say he saved thousands of Jews from extermination. The debate is ongoing. The church has named him "venerable," the first step towards canonization. Pius XII was not a warm and fuzzy pope. What I remember most about him is his death in 1958. We paid a lot of attention to the papacy in my Catholic elementary school. Once Pius was in his tomb in the grotto under St. Peter's, we turned our attention to the election of the new pope. When it was announced that white smoke was seen coming from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel, Sister Eubestrabius said Habemus papem , boys and girls.We have a pope! Everyone loved Pope John XXIII. He lived...

Novembers will always bring me back to this story I wrote in 1983. The facts are open to debate as my version of events will naturally differ from another's description of it for to each, their own. This handwritten journal excerpt is legible; an ability that I can no longer claim with any degree of repetition as a tremor in my writing hand has invaded me with irregularity; I hope my imagination is not affected similarly.        

And here is the Wannaskan Almanac with Word-Wednesday for November 4, 2026, the forty-fourth Wednesday of the year, the seventh Wednesday of fall, the first Wednesday of November, and the three-hundred eighth day of the year, with fifty-seven days remaining. Brought to you by Bead Gypsy Studio handcrafted jewelry, announcing the DIVA DAYS Trunk Show of Metal Art Jewelry, Saturday, November 7th, 9:00am-4:00pm, with treats, samplings, and multiple in-store specials; 101 Main Avenue North, Roseau; (218) 242-6975. Wannaska Phenology Update for November 4, 2026 Golden-crowned Kinglet Regulus satrapa — ozaawaawiiwikwaaneshii in Anishinaabe — is the world’s smallest perching bird, weighing in at 0.1763699536 ounce, or the equivalent of two pennies. Kinglets are named Regulus , meaning “little king,” because of their bright yellow, orange, and red crowns. Wannaska is on the southernmost edge of its breeding range, so many Canadian golden-crowned kinglets are now migrating to Wannaska for th...

For generations now, American politics has carried a strange tension: we proudly call ourselves a republic built on citizen leadership, yet we repeatedly elevate the same families to the highest levels of power. When names like Bush, Clinton, Kennedy, and others cycle through our ballots decade after decade, it’s hard not to notice how closely this resembles the hereditary patterns we once fought a revolution to escape. While these families have undeniably produced capable public servants, the pattern itself raises a deeper question about whether our political culture has drifted toward a soft, unofficial form of monarchy. Political dynasties don’t emerge overnight. They grow through name recognition, donor networks, media familiarity, and the inertia of nostalgia. When voters see a familiar last name, it can feel safe—like choosing a brand they’ve bought before. But that comfort comes with a cost. It subtly discourages fresh voices, new ideas, and leaders who haven’t spent their entir...

     We were still at the lake in Massachusetts for the first days of autumn this year. I love slow mornings but this time, I let my coffee go cold. I was about to take my blood pressure medicine and was settling myself on the couch with my books and journal when I got distracted by a blur of white out the windows. What’s going on down there?   I pulled myself up off the couch, but when I walked out onto the porch, I couldn't quite see what I was looking at through the pines. As I continued to angle for a better view, I became Moses awed by the burning bush, and hurried myself down to the dock. I was still in my pajamas and barefoot.  There, on the cold wooden planks. Fog drifts. Wispy threads. Soft, white poufs hovered above the lake. Suspended in slow motion.   It was slightly after dawn, and overnight it seemed, nature had turned our lake into a steaming pot of water. I stood there, wanting to wake the whole lake to come and see these earth-borne clouds ...