Walleye kisses and other Canadian happenings

We are back from Canada. What a fun trip. Nels was even surprised that I enjoyed spending a week in the Canadian wilderness.

We spent the week at Camp Lake St. Joseph, a small resort located on Lake St. Joseph in which you have to be boated to the resort. No roads, just a massive waterway, lead to this resort. This lake is comparable to Lake Mille Lacs and Leech Lake but there are only two small resorts on it and a couple of fly-in places far to the west, I think. We rarely saw other anglers on the lake.

I had only caught one walleye before in my short fishing career and that was a month before while Nels and I were night fishing on North Long Lake. While in Canada, fishing was our full-time job and surprisingly it was very fun. We fished probably 8-11 hours a day, except the day before we left because the wind was blowing so hard. We fished about 4-5 hours that day. We figure we averaged about 25 walleye each day and brought home 8 walleyes (our limit), cleaned, frozen and packaged, for my grandparents to enjoy and Nels' mom, who also loves fish.

I caught the largest walleye, a 23-incher, beating Nels, whose largest walleye was 21 inches. Nels was a little disappointed we didn't catch massive northern pikes on this trip. Maybe next time.

I realized when Nels and I were sitting around our cabin one night that this was the first time probably ever that I've been so disconnected from the rest of the world. No TV, radio, newspapers, cell phones. Nothing. I worried about what Erika was doing while I was away (she was having the time of her life being roommates with her great-grandma!) but other than that, it was wonderful.

I think it was the first time I've truly been on a vacation. No distractions. No long lines filled with annoying people to listen to at DisneyWorld or Universal Studios. No worrying about what was going on at work, at home, etc.

So we'd like to go back. Maybe to a different lake, something a little closer to the Canadian border. It was about an 11-hour trip one way and we passed a lot of great fishing lakes along the way, Nels said.


This is what I learned in Canada:

• When you're around Canadians you start to unconsciously begin imitating their accents. Nels and I had fun with this.

• Magazines are a great feature in an outhouse. They keep your mind off the spiders, bugs and other animals that may be lurking around, as well as the moose and bears you imagine waiting outside for you when you make the dash to your cabin. We enjoyed the Ontario Out Of Doors magazine previous anglers left for us so much that we brought it home.

• Walleyes may taste good to eat but you don't want to kiss one. I finally learned how to properly hold a walleye after the largest one I caught slipped out of my hands and planted a big slimey smooch on my lips and cheek. It was so nasty. And it got goo all over my J.Lo-inspired black sweatsuit I got on clearance at Wal-Mart before we left. Nels hates this outfit but it kept me warm up north.

• And lastly, I learned I'm a much happier and contented person in the wilderness. I think it was the simple lifestyle I enjoyed. This could mean someday I'll end up like the unabomber, living in a small cabin in the woods, or as the neighborhood cat lady. I tried to talk Nels into buying a Canadian fishing lodge with me that we could run each summer but he had to go and keep reminding me we have no money.

Oh well. The cat lady thing may work out.

Cutest couple ever

My grandparents, Les and Vonnie Tweed, will be celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary on Aug. 31.

I mention this now because I'm hoping I have a sizable worldwide Tweed cousin following on this blog (who else is going to read my ramblings but family???) and I just wanted to remind them so they can call or send a card. I think a small family gathering is being planned in their honor. Ask Aunt Shari.

Their wedding photo and anniversary announcement will be in the Dispatch and Echo in a couple of weeks (Shhhh...don't tell them. It's a surprise.) but I wanted to upload their photo so you could see what a couple of hotties they were. :) Grandma was 17, a child bride, when she got married and Grandpa had returned from serving in the South Pacific in the Navy during WWII. She's now 77 and he's 82.

Did we inherit some great genes or what??

Naughty kitty

Cost for us to adopt Callie, a stray who showed up in our garage and jumped straight into Nels' arms last November: $0.

The cost to spay Callie after she went into heat, scaring not only me, Erika and Nels, but Daisy our dog and Sam, our puzzled 15-year-old male cat: $120.

The cost for de-worming medication after Callie puked translucent flat worms on my new Rachael Ray magazine in the living room: $20. (Poor Sam had to get de-worming meds, too.)

The reaction on Nels' face when I tell him through this blog that last night I caught Callie gnawing on the top of one of our brand new dark wood dining room chairs, destroying the wood finish, because she's one naughty, little kitty: PRICELESS.

You're from Pequot Lakes ... Did you know Dru?

Here's a column published in Tuesday's Dispatch that I wrote about Dru Sjodin:

“You’re from Pequot Lakes. ... So, did you know Dru Sjodin?”


It’s a question I’ve gotten about a half-dozen times this summer when I’ve met new people, whether it be while I was hanging out with friends or out on assignment for the newspaper doing stories on area festivals and other events.

And it’s a question that’s tough for me to answer.

No, I did not know Dru. I graduated from Pequot Lakes High School years before she did, although I have a faint memory of seeing Dru at my cousin’s high school graduation party at my aunt’s and uncle’s home. Dru graduated from PLHS in 2000 and my cousin, Hans Tweed, graduated in 1998 with Dru’s brother, Sven.

That’s the simple answer, but it’s not entirely accurate.

I did know Dru, not in life but in death. I covered the extensive search for Dru after she went missing from a Grand Forks shopping mall Nov. 22, 2003. I spent those five months writing stories about Dru and the impact her disappearance had on those from Pequot Lakes. I interviewed my neighbors, my former teachers, Dru’s family and friends, including my cousin, who took a leave from college to spend those months searching the snow-covered fields of North Dakota in sub-zero temperatures for his missing friend.

Along with hundreds of other people, including my daughter and most of my extended family members, I lit a pink candle, in hopes that Dru would return home, at a candlelight vigil for Dru in downtown Pequot Lakes in December 2003.

Dru did come home, but not the way anyone had wished for. Her body was found April 17, 2004, in a ravine near Crookston. Along with more than 1,500 people, I attended Dru’s funeral on April 24, 2004, at Grand View Lodge in Nisswa.

As emotionally detached a news reporter may attempt to be while covering difficult stories like this, it was particularly heart-wrenching for me to watch the tears streaming down the faces of my cousin and his friends as they tried so hard to be strong as they carried Dru’s casket into the resort’s convention center during the memorial service.

After Dru’s funeral, her casket was placed in a white funeral coach, which led the long processional from Nisswa through Pequot Lakes to Crow Wing County Road 16 on the way to Crosslake, where she was buried in the Pinewood Cemetery. Along the way, cars in the southbound lane slowed down and stopped along the road to show their respect to Dru and her family.

And in a simple act that seemed to symbolize the five-month search for Dru, the processional came to a halt in Ideal Township as Dru’s family, along with the funeral coach, took a side trip on Ruttger Road to the home of Linda and Sid Walker, Dru’s mother and stepfather.

Dru’s family, true to their promise to Dru while she was missing, had brought their daughter home.

The pink bows, placed around Pequot Lakes after Dru went missing, were taken down long ago in the city. After a year or so the tiny pink ribbon that had been taped to Dru’s senior photo in her senior class photo display in the hallway at Pequot Lakes High School was removed, too.

But that doesn’t mean the Pequot Lakes college student has been long forgotten.

Visitors may stop by Dru’s Garden, located across from Silver Creek Traders in Pequot Lakes in the Trailside Park, a living tribute to a hometown girl who loved art, elephants and butterflies and whose life was tragically cut too short. It’s a great reflective place to stop after biking or walking on the nearby Paul Bunyan Trail.

And thanks to Dru’s family and other supporters, her unnecessary death has spurred action. On July 27, President George Bush signed into law The Adam Walsh Protection and Safety Act, in which Dru’s Law is included. Dru’s Law requires convicted child molesters to be listed on a national Internet database and face a felony charge for failing to update their whereabouts.

Opening statements in the trial of her accused killer, Alfonso Rodriguez Jr., a convicted sex offender, began Monday. And for the first time since Dru’s body was found, prosecutors presenting their case against Rodriguez to jurors released some of the graphic details of her violent death.

It’s not an easy thing to hear or read. I felt like I had received a swift sucker punch to the gut while I watched the news Monday and learned how Dru was killed. I’m sure many others in Pequot Lakes were feeling the same thing.

But, I guess after this initial shock, I prefer instead to focus on the glowing pink vigil candles, the many pink bows lining the Pequot Lakes streets, the countless volunteers who searched for a woman they never knew and finally, the life of a young woman who will never know the humanity she left behind in her hometown community.

JODIE TWEED can be reached at jodie.tweed@brainerddispatch.com or 855-5858.


On the Net:
Dru's Voice, the Sjodin family's official website dedicated to Dru Sjodin.

Bad Boys, Bad Boys ...

A co-worker introduced me to an interesting web site that allows people to check out who was recently locked up in the Crow Wing County Jail. It's pretty addictive, actually. The web site is updated every half-hour or so and will tell you the time and date they were jailed, the charges against them and how much each inmate is costing taxpayers while locked up. They're in the order in which they were jailed.

Heck, they've even got photographs, too, which is always nice.

Check out the link here.

The information is based on the Crow Wing County Sheriff's In Custody list, which can be found here. The inmates are listed by the county in alphabetical order.

I've found former schoolmates (including one who's locked up now) and other people I know in there.

If anything, it's reassuring when you don't find your own mugshot posted there at the end of a long weekend.

MS Challenge Walk

Starting Sept. 17, my longtime friend Julie Wenschlag will take part in the three day, 50-mile MS Challenge Walk in the Twin Cities to raise money for the National Multiple Sclerosis Society.

This is the first time Julie has ever participated in the MS Challenge Walk before but for the past few years we've had a team at the annual MS Walk in Brainerd.

If you're not sure what MS is, just ask Julie. She was diagnosed three years ago with MS, a chronic, unpredictable neurological pain-in-the-ass disease that affects the central nervous system.

This MS Challenge Walk is not only important to Julie because it raises money to hopefully find a cure for a disease that personally affects her, but it's a way for her to show this stupid disease that it's not in charge.

So, if you have a moment, please think about making a donation in Julie's name at the MS Society, MN Chapter, web site.

Here is the link to Julie's web page

Hopefully we can one day make a difference.

Bathroom humor

My husband and I both subscribe to several magazines and while I often read mine from cover to cover the day I get them, Nels won't even crack the spine of some of his photography and fishing mags, which is frustrating for me.

So in an effort to expand his literary horizons, I've been making a point of circulating all his new magazines in our bathroom magazine rack.

This morning as we were getting ready for work he informed me that I should be using the hair dryer to dry underneath my arms before I put on my gel deodorant.

"Yeah, whatever," I said. "Who told you that?"

Oprah did. He said he read about that in my Oprah magazine, right by the toilet.

Our bathroom library appears to be working.

Go figure.

These Modern Socks

I was bleary-eyed and in a semi-comatose state at 7:30 a.m. Sunday after staying up until 2 a.m. waiting to pick Erika up at her babysitting gig when I turned on the T.V. and recognized a familiar face on KARE-11.

My cousin, Corey Palmer, and his band, "These Modern Socks," were featured on KARE's "Whatever" Show. It was pretty cool and today I checked out his band's website. Great music, great website and I was happy to find out that their album is available on iTunes.

So check out this up and coming Twin Cities band on their website, where you can also listen to their album.

eBay or Google? Let me count the ways ...

I'm not sure which Web site I love more, eBay or Google.

Google allows me with a touch of a button to search for former classmates, former boyfriends, friends' former boyfriends, former friends' former boyfriends, co-worker's former boyfriends (Ok, you get the point), lyrics to songs I loved when I was 15 and much more.

A random question pops into my head at any given moment like, what the heck is the name of the foster dad on the 80's television show, "Punky Brewster," I can find out instantly. (Duh, Henry Warnimont, played by actor George Gaynes. Thanks, Google.) I no longer have to retain any irrelevant pop culture trivia in my head. Or anything of any real importance, really.

I love eBay because I can purchase the dumb stuff I wanted as a child but could never own and the dumb stuff I had but no longer own. And dumb stuff I never thought I'd ever want to own but do now.

Take my Amy Carter Peanut Doll. I was about 8 or 9 years old back in 1979-1980 and was a huge fan of President Jimmy Carter. I wrote to him, he sent me back some White House literature. We bonded, me and Jimmy. He sent me a booklet about his daughter, Amy, growing up in the White House.

Now of course it was some White House intern who probably sent this stuff to me, including the president's fake autograph, but I became a Democrat that very day and later, before Jimmy Carter lost the election to Pres. Ronald Reagan, I campaigned for him on the playground at school. "Tee for two, Carter's for you." C'mon, I was a kid.

Well, around that time my mom bought me an Amy Carter Peanut Doll, which she now swears I'm making up since no one in my family recalls me ever owning such a thing. But I remember how much I loved that doll. My Amy Carter doll fit in the palm of my hand and arrived in her own plastic peanut. Of course the doll looks nothing like Amy Carter but I loved it.

My doll met an untimely demise after my dad spilled his Fleischmann's whiskey and Coke on her. She got drenched in alcohol in her little plastic peanut and she smelled so bad, like a drunken sailor, that I had to throw her out.

Fast forward to 2006 and I found an Amy Carter Peanut Doll on eBay and paid about $13 for the doll, including shipping and handling. I'm attaching a photo of my new doll because frankly my co-workers think I'm making the whole thing up, that coupled with the fact that my mom doesn't believe I ever owned one.

But I do...once again. Thanks to eBay. And this doll is going to remain sober.

(Sorry, I had technical difficulties and couldn't post my photo to this post ... so click on this link to check out my Amy Carter Peanut Doll.)

"What happens at BIR, stays at BIR"

I was sent to Brainerd International Raceway today to interview campers who were up this week for the 2006 Lucas Oil NHRA Nationals, which begins Thursday. As a local who often has been annoyed to have to drive around all the busy traffic at the track as I headed home from Brainerd, I never saw the allure in watching the drag races.

But after talking with several campers who absolutely live for this event, I realized how much fun it can be. A group of 50 campers from Wisconsin create an unbelievable party campsite each year, a great way for racing fans to hang out with their favorite NHRA drivers and their pit crews. The campsite has two outdoor pool tables, a massive sound system with a dozen speakers, couches, love seats — you name it, they've got it.

While at BIR, I interviewed not a bunch of gearheads like I thought I would, but truly nice people. One guy spent two hours this morning helping to fix another camper's golf cart, a person he didn't know until today. Shoot, I had three people offer me cans of ice-cold beer, which would have been great in the 80-plus degree weather but a not-so-great thing to do when you're working. This kind of stuff never happens to me at city council meetings.

I was telling this to a BIR staffer, who said I should have taken them up on the offer.

"What happens at BIR, stays at BIR," he assured me in a hushed tone.

It was too funny.

Check out my story on BIR camping at the Brainerd Dispatch Web site Wednesday.

Oh, Canada!

In a couple weeks, my husband and I will head to the Great White North (Ok, it's not so white right now, mostly green) for our first-ever week-long fishing excursion in northern Ontario.

I have to concede, I have caught the fishing bug lately. There's nothing like fishing after dark, the lake backlit by the rising moon. Friday Nels and I went musky fishing on a small lake north of where we live and I caught a huge small mouth bass after dark. (Alas, no muskies on this trip but we had some follows.) The bass put up quite a fight, which was fun to experience - my first brawl with a fiesty fish - and it was even more fun to overhear my husband tell his friends and brothers about the "monster" small mouth bass I caught.

But I'm worried about this trip to Canada. Here we live less than 30 minutes away from dozens of great fishing lakes. I can go home at night, sleep in my own bed and don't have to worry about bears or moose attacks. (Although we have a large raccoon with an attitude that seems to enjoy mauling our bird feeders.)

Canada will be a different story. The cabin my husband booked at this small resort offers the bare-minimum amenities surrounded by nothing but miles of water and the Canadian forest. We have to pontoon 12 miles on this lake just to get to the small resort. This is not Madden's or Cragun's. There's no Target or Cub Foods down the road. We have to bring everything in with us that we will need for the week.

There's a showerhouse, but I'm not sure if we share it with 20 other smelly anglers or just the smelly angler I'm bringing up north with me. We have our own outhouse, my husband assured me, but no running HOT water in our cabin. Oh, and no electricity either.

I'll be heading north across the border with an open mind. ... but if there's nowhere to plug in my hair dryer, I'll be heading back to Minnesota with hair that looks like tightly curled hairballs our cat Sam threw up.

But that's Canada, eh?

Orange shirts, khaki pants

It was too funny today. One of our sports writers and one of our photographers (not my hubby) walked into the newsroom together wearing matching outfits! No, it wasn't intentional and they just happened to arrive at work at the same time. They were like twins in their orange polo shirts and khaki pants.

We cracked up...and had to laugh again when I looked up at the newsroom television and noticed one of the reporters on CNN was wearing an orange polo shirt, too.

He must have gotten the memo.

Macaroni and cheese soup

My daughter officially became a babysitter Monday. She graduated from a babysitting certification course this past spring but hadn't had the opportunity to hone her sitter skills until this week when a couple from our church called and asked her to babysit THREE times this week for their two young sons. Erika was so excited.

As a mom, of course I was worried. I was worried she'd get spooked about being at a stranger's house past 9 p.m. when the kids were in bed and that she would have a hard time preparing dinner for the boys. I started babysitting when I was 11 but my first venture into cooking dinner for my three cousins was a disaster. I couldn't figure out how to use my aunt and uncle's ancient stove so I forced my cousins to eat cold hot dogs and green beans for dinner. I still haven't been able to live that one down.

Well, Erika had her own cooking disaster Monday. She was convinced by the 7-year-old boy that she had to keep the water in the pot from the noodles and then add the cheese powder, thus creating her own version of mac and cheese soup. She said it wasn't that bad, that she and the boys ate the whole box of mac and cheese. The 3-year-old even had two bowls. The funny thing is, their dad is a chef. I wonder what he thought when the boys told them that they ate runny mac and cheese.

She is babysitting for them now. I can't wait to call later and see what adventure she had today.

If you have a youngster who is just starting her own babysitting business, I found a cool Web site that may help.

http://www.urbanext.uiuc.edu/babysitting/