For Sale

Aluminum boat, 14-ft, ’88, with the dent that came with it. Floats reliably, fishes occasionally. $400, firm-ish.

Chest freezer, runs cold, holds a season’s walleye and some personal history. Empty on pickup; we’ll both pretend it always was.

Canning jars, quarts and pints, three boxes, lids checked twice, from a cellar you’d trust with your life and have.

Graduation gown, green, Class of ’26, worn exactly once. “I am done with it. I am so very done with it.”

Minnow tank, 1970s, free to good home. Has personality. Truck required, low standards advised. See Tim.

Pontoon boat, ’04, runs great, no it doesn’t, runs. $2,200 OBO. The Dahlquist place.

Rhubarb, excess, you bring the bag. You’ll know the house by the smell of crisp.

Three folding chairs that do not fold. $0. Some assembly impossible. Inquire at the VFW.

Wanted

A fourth for the new stop-sign subcommittee. Must like corners and tolerate Bunde. Inquire at City Hall, or don’t; it’ll keep, it always keeps.

Rhubarb takers, urgently. Bags by the back step. No questions. — E.D. (You know the house. The whole town knows the house.)

Crappie-crib coordinates. I know that you know. I will tell no one. I only want to fish before I’m too old to bait it. Cash considered.

Someone to back a trailer down the ramp Saturdays. Patience essential, discretion appreciated. Ask at the church.

The blue cooler last seen at the 2024 fish fry. No questions asked. We know it was you, Dennis.

Lost & Found

Lost: one trolling motor, off the landing dock. If found alongside last year’s, kindly return both, no questions.

Found: a casserole dish, blue, no name, at the lutefisk supper. The meatballs are long gone; the dish remains, waiting.

Lost: the meatballs, at 6:40 p.m., as every year. The lutefisk, as every year, was not lost, and will not be.

Found: one canoe, again, across the bay. It is your canoe. It is always your canoe.

Lost: the eleven minutes the Prairie View gym clock used to be fast. Reward for information.

Services

Stars read from the dock, Loon Lake, by appointment, weather permitting. I tell you what the sky is doing; you decide what to do about it. — S. Pelto.

Lawn mowing, the Solberg girls — one reads your situation, one counts your loons, the grass somehow gets cut. Cheap, bonded by their mother.

Hauling & odd jobs, truck and trailer, brush and scrap and that pile from spring. Before-the-Fourth bookings filling fast.

Sorensen Hardware — keys cut, advice free and frequent, open “most days.”

Dock removal & install. Ask for Lloyd. He’ll tell you why your dock is wrong first, then do it.

Public Notice

The Public Safety Subcommittee seeks members, a purpose, and a corner that needs a sign. Inquire at City Hall.

Real Estate & Rentals

For sale: three-season cabin, Whitefish, original knotty pine and a dock four generations learned to swim off. Furnished, down to the loon clock. By owner, reluctantly.

For rent: apartment above the old dress shop, Main Street, one bedroom, heat included. Quiet but for bingo nights and the Fourth. Available July.

For sale: building lot, half acre, lake access — on Mud Lake. We are telling you up front it’s Mud Lake. Dorothy swears the bluegills make up for the name.

Help Wanted

Co-op needs a summer stock clerk, evenings, lifting involved. See Walt. Discount modest but real.

Loon Ridge seeks seasonal grounds and dock help through Labor Day. Must be pleasant to summer people — “a skill, and we will train for it.”

Daybreak wants a weekend morning hand. Early hours, free coffee, and a front-row seat to most of the news before it’s news.

Free

Rhubarb. See Wanted. See Services. See, frankly, everywhere from here to the lake. It will find you whether you answer this ad or not.

Kittens, barn-raised, good mousers, indifferent to people, which several folks consider a virtue in a cat. Six weeks, eating solid. The Vekved farm.

Firewood, split and seasoned, by the Highway curve. Haul it and it’s yours, and you’ll be doing me the favor of clearing the yard.

Card of Thanks

The family of Orville “Ole” Tollefson thanks the community for ninety-one years of being his town, and for every casserole since. He’d have said you didn’t need to. See Obituaries.

The family of Doris Knutson thanks all who learned, under her firm instruction, to spell their own names correctly — which is most of you. Services Saturday at First Lutheran.

Notices & Personals

Happy birthday to Harold Aas, who turns 81 and is “not interested in a fuss,” which the Ladies’ Aid has correctly read as a request for cake.

To whoever keeps relocating the bumper on the public dock: it has a place. The place is where it was. This is the nice notice.

Ladies’ Aid meets Tuesday, 7 p.m., First Lutheran. New members welcome; bring a bar and an open mind, in that order, and we’ll find you a job before you sit.