If You Build It He Will Come

   Ok, I stole the title. I admit it. For those of you who haven't seen a movie in the past thirty-five years it's a famous quote from Field of Dreams, which is my all-time favourite. What's that got to do with our stay here in beautiful Montgomery, MN? Well, have a look at this picture of the house we're living in and substitute corn for the long grass:

  Right? I'm thinking of asking the owners if I can build a baseball diamond in their yard to see if Shoeless Joe makes an appearance.

  We've explored the property, which is bordered by a WMA (Wildlife Management Area) on three sides and extends to a small lake:

  You'll notice the area has been mowed. The owner has a tractor with a mower attachment as well as a ride-on mower and makes good use of them, clearing paths through the grass and around the forested areas so you can walk without fear of picking up ticks. Wasn't that a game when we were kids, Pick Up Ticks? I digress. I'm a bit disappointed that I don't get to cut the grass as driving a tractor sounds like fun. In case you haven't gotten the picture (sorry), here's a view from beside the house:

  As well as two cats, we are responsible for a small colony of hummingbirds which, along with a billion dragonflies, supply us with our evening's entertainment:

  It's all pretty cool although the cats are a bit of a pain, as cats can be. They are outside cats... mostly. They spend the morning and evening outside and sleep inside during the afternoon. One, Bongo, is partly deaf so needs to be in at night as she can't hear well enough to detect threats. The other, Radar (yes another one, see "Welcome to Prescott Valley"), insists she wants to stay out all night but climbs up on the porch roof to meow at the bedroom window around midnight, so you have to let her in. Then she comes to the inside of the same window at 5:00 am to meow to be let out. Cats. Sigh.

  Anyway, they have warmed up to us enough that Radar will jump on the bed at 5:00 am to wake us up to let her out. How nice. Bongo has also warmed up to us. She even let Penny touch her yesterday. I'm sure that, by the time we leave, she won't hate us anymore. Here's a couple of Radar pics as we'll never get any of Bongo:

  The homeowners are both very interesting and accomplished people with whom we share a lot of interests. It's funny that I'm saying this as we haven't actually met them. We arrived a few hours after they left and we'll be leaving a few hours before they return. Our conversations to date have all been by email and I expect we'll establish a more normal relationship with them in the future as, like most of the people we've met on this trip, I'm sure they'll invite us back.

  Aside from the house we've managed to do a bit of exploring. We went into Northfield a couple of days ago to get tickets for the upcoming Defeat of Jesse James Days event next week. I won't spoil it for you. You'll have to wait for details.

  We also wandered around Montgomery. I say "wandered around" but there's not much "there" there. Most of the streets have been torn up for re-paving and there's only one short street in the "business district". We did note the main drag has five bars and only one restaurant so it sounds like the residents aren't too thrilled about living here. There is, however, one thing the locals are proud of, according to this mural:

  Kolacky. It's the Kolacky Capital, actually. We saw one bakery and they specialize in these things, whatever they are. Ok, I Googled it:

    (kəˈlɑːtʃkɪ , kəʊ- ) nounWord forms: plural kolackies or kolacky. a type of sweet pastry or bun with a fruit, jam, or nut filling, originally from Poland or Czechoslovakia. chocolate cherry kolackies. Whether you fill them with fruit or cheese, kolacky are very popular cookies.

... so you don't have to. You're welcome. By the way, locals describe it as "a little bun with some fruit stuff in it". No one can accuse these people of verbosity. Typical Minnesotans (see "Fargo" for more detail on this, movie lovers). If the bakery is ever open, as most of these businesses seem to be closed whenever we go by, we'll pick some up and let you know if they're worthy of a mural.

  Across the street, next to the pizzeria (the only restaurant) was this guy:

  He's Big Honza Giganticzech. Really. Apparently, one of the locals was tired of Minnesota being the home of Paul Bunyan and who really thinks a ninety-four foot tall man with a blue ox is believable anyway? Instead, he commissioned a chainsaw sculpture of this guy, a character he made up. He's supposed to be representative of the Czech immigrants (remember kolackies?) who settled this area, except his creator decided he needed to be twelve feet tall, able to chop down a tree with one hand and skin a mule with his teeth. Oh. And he likely makes wonderful kolackies.

  So, let's review. Montgomery is kolackies and a big wooden Czech who's not Paul Bunyan. We're done here.

  Oh. Montgomery has one other noteworthy attraction, its golf course. Now, I feel like the owner had delusions of grandeur when he named it Montgomery National Golf Course, a la Augusta National, home of The Masters. I'd say it's not quite in that league, more akin to your local pasture track than something claiming to be "national" in character. It does, however, have something that makes it unusual -- The Beatles. Wait. Yes, you read that correctly. I know The Beatles weren't known as big golfers but the owner is a fan so they're all over this place.

  From the entrance:

... to the signature, eighteenth hole with a new log clubhouse under construction and its own Yellow Submarine:

   This is an unusual spot well worth a few hours recreation. All the holes are named after Beatles songs and, according to the guy in the pro shop, the first hole was recently renamed. Apparently one of the regulars collapsed on the first tee so one of his buddies called 911. A passing off-duty EMT showed up and resuscitated him, then arranged for a helicopter airlift. He survived and the hole was renamed "With A Little Help From My Friends". Cute. Also, they correctly named the ninth hole, "Number 9". Check the White Album if you're not up on the Fab Four.

  The next few days promises to be hot with temps in the mid to high-30s so we're thinking of turning off the hot tub heater, buying some of those pre-mixed margaritas and hanging out in the little backyard pool while we watch the hummingbirds. I'd read that Minnesotans are a hardy bunch so we're doing our best to fit in. Cheers!