A rose by any other name...

There is a place on the border of Minnesota and Canada called International Falls. My husband saw International Falls on the map and was instantly excited to go there to visit falls that would rival Niagra. We stayed the night in Two Harbor, MN on Lake Superior. Knowing we were going to see giant falls in International Falls, we skipped Gooseberrry Falls and instead toured two lighthouses. They were absolutely gorgeous and offered us an opportunity to do a little rock scampering. At about 1:00, we set out on the road for International Falls. Five hours later, as I snoozed we pulled into our hotel. International Falls was far from the large town we expected. We set out to find the local Chinese Restaurant, one of maybe six restaurants in town. Naturally, we when couldn't find it we drove to see the monumental falls. First, the border gate came into sight, no passports, no Canada for us. As we turned around, surrounding us were industrial buildings. In fact, the buildings lined the river. There was a little green trailer on the side of the road which was labeled "tourist info." It was closed, but a little board gave the history of the town. It turns out we were 106 years too late. There had been a 35 foot waterfall prior to 1905, after which a factory built a reservoir on the river and the falls were immersed underwater. I found our situation deliriously hilarious. We found ourselves in a town whose only claim to fame was a giant smokey bear. International Falls would still be disappointing by another name, but perhaps less misleading.

Dragon Tattoo

I finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson, this morning around 3:30. It was impossible to put down. There comes a point with every mystery novel, if it is well written, that you reach a point in the story in which you must continue. Aided by a cozy nest of blankets, rain pelting the windows, and curiosity I simply had to read. There was a line that spoke to me as particularly clever and absurd. On page 471, "Yes," Blomkvist said without hesitation, "Martin was dafter than a syphilitic polecat--where do I get these metaphors from?" The author of course, Mr. Blomkvist. After recently reading Steven King, who blatantly wrote himself into the story line, it is nice to see a line which alludes to the author. I'm sure Larsson found the line preposterous, but it probably refused to leave his mind. I'm waiting to read the next book after I finish the stack I have collected from the library. Even when I am ready for it, I will probably resist because there will be no more novels coming from this literary genius who passed too soon.

M to M

M to M, rather than M&M's, although I like those too. I have a passing fantasy that I could be a writer and my current lifestyle favors this colossal endeavor. I have been moved from my previous home in Missouri about seven hours north to Minnesota. People here expect me to complain about this "tiny town," but in truth my hometown did not even have a stoplight and I enjoy BFE. The aforementioned is an acronym, I have previously used, knowing it mean the middle of nowhere, but not the words for each of the letters. I googled it the other day. Do you know what it means? It is ethnically inappropriate and vulgar. Which makes the previous statement quite funny, "I enjoy..."