Living north is subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) changing our lives.
We can't get cable TV here, and we're not about to pay for the high cost of satellite TV (we already cut loose for satellite Internet, which is a small step above dial-up) just to have a gazillion channels to flip through to find nothing worth watching. The two channels (and sometimes three) that our roof antenna usually picks up are enough to blank out our minds in the evening.
But. It was New Year's Day and the Lions were playing Green Bay at Lambeau field.
So far my only regret in life is that I did not answer the call to shovel snow from Lambeau when Andy and I were there one Christmas a few years ago. No one in the family wanted to join me making $8/hour shoveling snow in the greatest stadium in the Midwest!
Now, don't misunderstand me. We are not football fans. (I just thought it would be fun to shovel snow out of that stadium...for money!)
After witnessing history being made in the form of a midnight ball drop the night before in West Branch (the nearest "big" town), it was a lazy day, perfect for lounging around and watching a game.
Except. We couldn't. No TV reception at all.
I'm not sure who said it. "Let's go over to the Cedar Bar and watch the game."
|The Cedar Bar, with banner announcing that the "Kitchen is Open"|
The Cedar Bar is exactly 1.5 miles from our house. Last year, the night before New Year's Eve, fire trucks from across the county sirened up our hill through the fog to put out a grease fire in their kitchen. While the 1930's wood building did not burn to the ground, it took over eight months to re-open, and four months longer for the newly built kitchen.
We don't frequent bars, but there is something about living north that makes having a neighborhood bar appealing. The log walls, the informal attitude, the place where locals hang out and gossip. Oh, and did I mention no smoking, $2 beers, and free freshly popped popcorn?
|The warm ambience of the Cedar Bar's bar.|
Off we went, FLD Scout in tow.
There was a crowd, at least a crowd for the Cedar Bar on a wintery Sunday afternoon, but we snatched a spot near the pool tables with a clear view of the TV hanging above the stone fireplace. The waitress, sporting knee-high winter boots, brought us beer, and a heaping basket of salty popcorn.
FLD Scout could have cared less when a group of fans across from us erupted into hoots and hollers at every other play. She lifted her head, but made no attempt to join in the fun.
FLD Scout was focused. On one lone kernel of popcorn lost under our table.
Good girl, Scout! I encouraged in between sips of beer when she looked, but didn't lunge. She was sneaky, and Marine-crawled on the slippery wood floor to work her way closer. I sat on her leash and whispered, Leave it. She backed off. Good girl!
FLD Scout peered and stared and try as she might, she could NOT levitate that kernel to her drooling chops. I was sure that by the end of the game her gaze would burn that kernel black.
The Lions lost, but FLD Scout scored big on treats for leaving that popcorn alone!