Serving the Platte Valley since 1888
Serving the Platte Valley since 1888
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Going about my normal routine last Tuesday I noticed a vague irritation in my throat. I didn’t give it much thought as we put the paper out and began to work on the following week’s edition. When I got home though I followed standard “not feeling quite right” procedure and took some vitamin C and ate some chicken soup just in case. Later, while laying on the couch watching TV it suddenly occurred to me that I was very cold. Though the house was a normal temperature I just co...
Its time now to keep thinking about the potential threat of flooding our North Platte River still possesses. As each year passes without a permanent and more substantial management of the river flow the Town of Saratoga’s risk of flooding only increases. We need to focus on a more permanent solution. The pesky gravel islands just South of the Hwy 130 bridge that keep recurring every few years is the most noticeable condition that most of the town folk can see. This is only one concern the citizens of Togie need to be thinking...
Roughly four kilometers from the little farming village I called home in Burkina Faso is something called “the Barrage.” Basically, it’s a dammed-up portion of a seasonal waterway feeding into the Bougouriba River to the north of us, and it’s a very picturesque and tranquil place. I frequently biked there and sat on its south eastern shore, looking at the line of rocky hills lying to the north of the body of water and listening to the gurgling river passing underneath the roa...
I remember the first time I tried a martini. I had been watching M*A*S*H,1 and the lead characters had been on and on about the still they operated in their tent and how great martinis are. So martinis—and how great and fashionable they must be—played wildly in my pre-teen mind as the family went out to dinner at the Tower of Americas in downtown San Antonio. When it came time to order dinner I asked for one. When that request was declined, I explained that I would be wil...
The sun descended in tandem with my hopes of seeing a new part of Burkina, and it was 7:10 when the train finally chugged its way into the station. Workers herded us into a roped-off section of platform, and, like clockwork, pandemonium erupted. For whatever reason (and I spent long hours during my Peace Corps years trying to figure it out) “queuing,” or the social convention of forming lines, is not common in Burkina. Grown men and women, wearing clothes far nicer than min...
I appreciate opportunity to answer the editorial comment on my letter last week. The government report referenced compares wind turbine power when the turbine actually spins. The problem is the wind doesn’t cooperate 24 hours a day. The extra expense to a contract electricity supplier who has to supply electricity 24 hours a day occurs as they either have to invest in reliable alternative back-up generation or buy very expensive electricity (open market source.) Please verify this fact with Wyoming Electric Cooperative, c...
I didn’t set out to be a “crazy cat lady.” I have acquired three cats though and apparently three is the threshold for being dubbed such. For years I was cat-free–but in the summer of 2001 I felt the need to go to the library. There, in the entry alcove, was a lady I knew. I said “hi” and then noticed the box of kittens she was watching over. “You want one?” she asked. “They’re free.” Against my better judgment, I picked a few up and eventually settled on a little cutie wit...
Dear Editor, At the risk of being politically incorrect, here’s comment on a couple topics in the Sept. 28 issue of the Saratoga Sun. The historical completion of the Ferris Haggerty tramway, described in detail, and our knowledge of the failure of the venture, begs comparison to renewable energy projects of today. The hype is quite similar. The copper was from a mine that was deficient in content. The expensive wind power lacks customers to buy it. The driver behind renewable replacing carbon energy is carbon emissions c...
I’ve told you, dear reader, that we were headed to the train station to depart on the one train that goes from Bobo-Dioulasso to Niangoloko. I haven’t mentioned what time that train was supposed to depart though. That wasn’t an oversight. Matt, the friend we were visiting in Niangoloko, had been told by a railroad employee there that the train leaves Bobo at 3 p.m. A railroad employee in Bobo had told Rebecca that the train was scheduled to depart at 4, while a sign posted in the same lobby said the train would depart at 5:...
Fifty years ago a spacecraft was launched at the National Broadcasting Company. It was not a literal vessel but an idealized one sprung from the brain of a WWII pilot who, along with other distinctions, won the Distinguished Flying Cross. It was a craft that came to be backed and promoted by comic genius Lucille Ball and her Desilu Studios. The forward-looking Ms. Ball even managed to get the rerun rights to the show (along with “I Love Lucy”) from studio executives before the...
By 1:30, we'd paid the check at La Marguerite and started making our way toward the train station two kilometers away. Imagining we were under some sort of time constraint (ha), we split into two groups with Rebecca and David biking ahead and me walking my bike beside Barry, who had opted not to bring his. His was a prescient decision. I'd seen Bobo-Dioulasso's train station many times from afar, but this was my first time inside. In a city with little to offer in terms of...
City of Saratoga: I am writing to tell you how much we enjoyed Saratoga even though we do not fish. We sashayed along the “downtown” streets taking in the sights and enjoying delicious cuisine in several restaurants; did a little shopping; dropped into Hack’s Tackle for a three-hour boat ride down the Platte River with Pat as our guide who pointed out the numerous bald eagles, furry minks, and other two-legged and four-legged wildlife only Pat could spot and identify instantly; we went to Mass on Saturday afternoon at St. A...
The west is a dry place. I know this is a shocking revelation to those who live here and I apologize for intruding on your blissful unawareness. Coming from the coastal south, I was used to thunderstorms though. Sorry, that should be Thunderstorms with a capital “T.” Down there, rainfall would last literally weeks—with the occasional hurricane to break the monotony. Somehow the west still gets hurricane-force winds but a storm might only last 15 minutes … and you can dance b...