Scarlet Stone

It’s a quiet Saturday night in Soudan, except for the car horn that keeps sounding off somewhere across town by the Soudan Store. It’s one of those summery June evenings when the sky is clear with that jewel-tone turquoise chasing the orange sun to the distant horizon. I know over the treetops, there are festivities in nearby Tower, a wedding celebration at the Civic Center, or locals having a meal and drinks here or there. There was a time not so long ago when I loved being drawn into the night somewhere under that turquoise sky with neon lights that seemed to beckon me to go searching for something or someone. Perhaps it would be a chance encounter with some captivating man, but often that turned into disappointment, a hangover, involving myself with men who had abuse problems, until eventually, I developed my own with alcohol. It took decades to recognize, admit, and do something to control my habit/addiction/genetic condition or whatever you may name it, and it is beyond fabulous that my thirst for night life has given way to healthier pursuits like gardening, listening to podcasts, travel, and sewing to name a few. I don’t sit and wait for anyone, because there is no one coming. I did not realize the self I had lost until, with the help of a higher power, support people, educating myself on the effects it had on my brain and body, I emerged out of the fog.
As a solo person in a clearer chapter of my life, I’m able to obsess with my own projects these days with no interruptions to go cook, or wash, or drink something. There is no child to care for because that job is done. I remember years back, one of the husbands in particular would interrupt my rare sessions of creative bliss with his own desires. I would humorously swat him away with the growing sense of aggravation ceasing only when I’d finally give way to the pestering while ordering him upstairs while blurting, “Alright then, let’s get on with it!” That’s quite a common response for our gender I have discovered in conversations. It seems to be a basic design issue. Men get revved up in their youth and women’s burners reach full heat a bit later on. My burners reach a low simmer from time to time but that’s about it and might I add, its much less distracting. In my single lifestyle, I have learned that being alone is not being lonely, and there is much joy and deep satisfaction in living and accomplishing projects by myself.
One thing that has revved me up recently, has been reshaping and widening a front yard perennial garden. Earlier this spring, during cabin fever and the ongoing snow dumps in the forecast, my plan was to relax when summer finally arrived by cutting back on nonessential tasks because I am relatively busy with all my jobs. One way would be to avoid watering outdoor plants each morning and leave dead-heading petunias aside, save the $300 plant fund, and maybe put it toward a small riding lawn mower. Like a blue-haired elderly lady I once knew, I was going to have a few pots of plastic flowers on my deck and call it good. I conveniently shopped on Amazon and ordered a bundle that looked enormous in the description and in addition, were UV resistant. This could be a clever twist in my approach I thought, but when the small gray rumpled bag arrived, revealing a 6”x6” cluster of lurid faux blooms on a thick stem, I knew the idea of going “faux” was a waste of my $27. My idea of plastic-flower deck-ambiance got catapulted off into the sunset with the return package to Amazon.
Soon afterwards, following a phone conversation with my sis about plastic blooms verses the enjoyment of nurturing plants, I drove up to a favorite greenhouse in Cook and I once again felt that familiar sense of excitement surging through my core. Obviously, a horticultural rebirth of sorts had occurred as I wandered through the aisles peering up overhead to colorful trailing blossoms cascading from hanging pots and everywhere I turned my head, various displays and unique mixed arrangements brought such a delight to my senses. An hour later, I had amassed a Jeep full of actual dirt bags, annuals, perennials, and a multi-colored wind spinner. This season, I went from plastic to perennials-a-plenty, and even added in a few vegetable planters on my deck rails with herbs, spinach, lettuce, and chard, leaving some room for a small bumper crop in a month or so.
I then felt driven to take out a couple of shrubs in my front yard and widen my current perennial garden. I hired a couple of young people, and it took the two of them an hour to sod-bust, haul and establish the new garden parameters. I combined many bags of garden soil mixtures, including compost, and added back some of the sandy yard dirt. After I finished filling the garden, I added an edging along the front and sides using an idea I saw on Pinterest. I had collected patterned and solid porcelain plates from various garage sales, then stood them on their edges in a groove I dug, then backfilled, leaving the upper half of each plate exposed.
I am so fortunate my knees still gave me permission to accomplish this decorative feature because it is absolutely adorable. I left my large ornamental Karl Foerster ornamental grass in place to sway in the wind, split a Silver Mound, and voila, the new garden is ready to plant with patiently waiting Tri-color Balloon Flower, Rudbeckia, Coral Reef Beebalm, Bright Eye Pink Phlox, Lambs’ Ears, Veronica-Giles Van Hees, White Luminary Phlox and Bleeding-Heart Oxeye Daisy. However, planting all the lovelies is now on hold for just a bit as my attention has to go elsewhere.
My focus has quickly shifted to final details for a big event this coming Saturday. It is the Lake Vermilion Cultural Center’s (LVCC) main fundraiser, the Midsummer Gala. This has involved designing invitations, ads, programs, committee work, and doing the data entry for attending guests. As the administrative assistant, this job has gotten much easier now that I have learned to work with Excel. The white tablecloth (and sold out) dinner is this Saturday at the Herb Lamppa Civic Center in Tower, and we will have 115 seated guests. IRRRB Commissioner, Ida Rukavina is going to be our guest speaker. The majority of the silent auction is online this year, allowing anyone to bid until this Saturday, June 14 at 6 p.m. (www.32auctions.com/LVCC2025). Following the dinner and live auction, a musical program will take place across the street at St. Mary’s Hall. This year’s program theme is “Songs of the Journey,” reflecting the immigrant’s voyage across the Atlantic and onward to Minnesota, and has been organized by Ryan Bajan, of Ely. The preparations are nearly all in place.
The LVCC office is currently located in the Vermilion Park Inn (former Soudan Miner’s Hospital), owned by MaryBatinich and husband, Mike Skorich. Until our building on Tower’s Main Street is finished, we will continue to office there. It’s been such an interesting place to work, with the revolving personalities of the Inn family, including housekeepers, maintenance workers and everyone’s various relatives and friends who visit. Great conversations and festive musical performance moments have sprung to life in the large, comfortable, cozy living room and in the lower-level party room. Over the years, so many vibrant characters have come through the doors to stay at the Inn, such as opera singers, Broadway performers, men in kilts, politicians, world renowned musicians, Tibetan monks, and a good share of eccentrics and odd ducks as well. Many performers of the Northern Lights Music Festival have stayed while performing on the Iron Range every summer. There have been amazing memorable functions at the Inn including weddings, dinner and themed parties, art classes, receptions, and more. One of my most memorable events was the dinner for the Royal Wedding of Prince Harry to Megan Markle. In attendance was the eccentric Minneapolis radio talk show sensation, Barbara Carlson (former wife of Governor Arne Carlson and friend to Mary B.) My lutanist instructor from Duluth played early English music. I accompanied along with other singing acts, we dined on roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Many stayed overnight and at 4 a.m. we ladies wore gloves, hats and jewels, had tea and crumpets in our pajamas, and watched the Royal wedding. Barbara arrived moments before the nuptials began in her flannel nightgown loaded with three pounds of mismatched heavily beaded necklaces and draped herself in a red tapestry chair. Once settled, she flung her leg over the armrest and began a running commentary about Camilla’s dreadful hat, while I just sat and soaked it all in. What an absolute riot! My life has been greatly enriched by being a part of the Inn scene since I moved to Soudan from Ely in 2017.
So now, I look ahead to a successful Midsummer, then will get back to the passion of positioning my perennial flowers, followed by a fun, healthy summer that will not include caring for any plastic flowers.