Childhood Flower Memories

May 19, 2016May 18, 2016Leave a comment

It is amazing how our human minds work. Our memories can be sparked by little things that trigger past memories and transport us in time. A song that reminds us of our prom days, a team that was the champion at our high school or a lost love. A taste, a smell, or a sight conjures up our childhood, or the smell of our Grandma’s big soft hug. For me flowers are a powerful memory from childhood. Dandelions, lilacs, tiger lilies and meadows full of buttercups. I was lucky enough to grow up on a farm, and at a time when life moved slower. We enjoyed the beauty around us, or at least I did, as a carefree child running barefoot through the fields. I can still remember the smells, the warm farm earth on my bare feet and the sun on my face.

Sometimes we loose track of our roots and our history in busy lives. I was recently traveling along the prairie roads from Minneapolis to Fargo on a beautiful sunny spring day. As we went, mile after mile we saw many old farmsteads from the past, now neglected as farms have become larger and consolidated, leaving the stone and brick houses and barns to slowly wither with time. Many were still surrounded by the beautiful lilacs, probably planted by some young woman many years ago who tended her garden and the farm animals, and raised her family on the Minnesota plains. She planted the hardy lilacs to surround her yard, provide a break from the winds and of course provide beauty and color. I could imagine her picking the flowers in the spring and putting them in a mason jar on her farm table. As we drove I could smell lilacs in the air.

It triggered a flood of childhood memories of our own farm. There is no flower that has a more lovely color. Sometimes in a soft light hue and others a deep purple. I would rather have lilacs than roses, and lilacs smell better too. They have a beautiful smell, but part of their beauty is the memories of warm, spring days, and in particular they remind me of my grandma. She would literally pick buckets of lilacs and we would dig in every cupboard scavenging all of the vases in the house to put the aromatic lilacs in every room, including our bedrooms.

I knew when I had my own house I would like my own lilac bushes. When our kids were young, I actually went and dug some at an abandoned farm in Blaine, right before they bulldozed the entire site for a golf course. It was a farmstead from the past that now had to make way for the new golf course. I had those rescued lilacs at our last house, but they were never big enough to pick as many as my grandma did to fill the house with that distinct smell. When we first looked at our current house on the Lake, I was really excited to see many beautiful mature lilac bushes. We have a variety of colors and they are so prolific, I can pick all of the lilacs I want, just like Grandma.

I can still see grandma in her flowery house dresses doing her gardening and tending her raspberries and her flowers. I can still see her and grandpa’s 1960’s blue car, as it drove down our long driveway into our farm yard. They only lived a mile away, so they came frequently. We were all excited to see her, but our dog went particularly crazy when he saw their car, because she always brought him food scraps. He could not wait for her to get out of the car, and he would practically knock her down, as she unwrapped the neatly folded peach crate papers to reveal the scraps of fat and meat she brought for him.

It never took him long to devour it all, and she would praise him the whole time, what a good dog he was. She always brought something for everybody. In the spring, she brought her galvanized pail full of the lilacs in water, nicely tucked into the back seat, so it would not tip on the ride over. She often brought her homemade donuts along in a dishpan carefully covered with a towel. They were usually still warm. We would snitch donuts from the pan, as they were being brought into the house and we would carefully put all of the lilacs in vases. I can still smell the fresh lilac fragrance as it took over the house.

My mom also loved her flowers on the farm and still loves tending her flowers in their retirement home in the city. I don’t know how she does it, but she can grow hydrangeas the size of a basketball. When I was very young, she had pots of violets growing in the kitchen window. I still remember their fuzzy leaves and the deep purple colors. She also had a lot of dragon lilies. I cannot see those without thinking of the farm. She had bunches of them in flower beds around the house and the yard, and as I got older I was charged with watering them. I loved the color and the little brown stems waiting for the bees to spread their pollen. I recently planted some around my mailbox, because they invoke so many strong feelings of home and warm summer days on the farm.

As we drove along that road to Fargo, I had a vivid memory of myself as a young child when I saw the meadows full of yellow buttercups. Buttercups have bright yellow, almost glossy leaves and grow in wet lowlands and meadows. I hadn’t seen those in years. I was instantly transported in time to my childhood. I remember putting on my rubber boots as a grade school child and walking through the moist meadow, picking the short yellow flowers and bringing some home, where my mom would help me put them in a glass on the kitchen table. They grew so thick in our meadow along our driveway that it looked like a fine carpet of yellow and waxy green. We had meadows full of buttercups on our farm in the spring.

Every child should have beautiful flower memories of warm spring days and lovely scents; of picking dandelions, of running through the meadows free of all cares and playing in the bright sunshine. Of a mom who grows tiger lily’s and keeps violets on the windowsill and a grandmother who brings homemade donuts and fills the house with the scent of beautiful purple lilacs. We were lucky to grow up on a farm, with a loving, but hard working family, but childhood flower memories can be created anywhere for any child. Make time to create beautiful flower memories for the children in your lives. Pass on the beauty to our next generations.

Fishing with Grandpa and Dad

March 24, 2016March 22, 2016Leave a comment

We grew up close to Mille Lacs lake in Minnesota, and as a family spent a lot of time on Mille Lacs. We swam and water skied and fished in the summer. We had a ski and fishing boat, and
would bring our Winnebago to camp at Father Hennepin State Park. Winter was even more fun when it came to fishing. It was an event and special time with my dad and grandpa.

We were only about twenty minutes from Mille Lacs, and my dad and grandpa loved to go ice fishing. I remember one fall the two of them gathered scrap lumber from around the farm, and built themselves two ice houses.

Grandpa was really good at building stuff and so was dad. As father and son they were a good team. They built hard sided, dark houses which were needed for spearing. We watched as they worked for days in the large farm machine shed, with its wall full of tools and piles of salvaged parts neatly stacked under the work benches and around the outer walls. We marveled at all of the old treasures and how easily Grandpa could make old parts fit and work together to make something new.

We walked around the shed and looked at all of the old things. Sometimes we had to ask what they were. He had old parts from horse harnesses, from an era gone by and even square nails and triangular barn hinges. They saved small windows and wheels of all sizes. Grandpa was very good at saving things. He had weathered the depression and still saved everything.

It was a good attitude that more of us could be better at in today’s world. We so easily throw things away that are perfectly good. We buy too much and we waste even more. My grandma even saved bread bags and bread bag ties and the old metal band aide boxes. They learned to waste nothing and on that day of building fish houses, all the parts and saving they had done came in handy. They did not have to go into town for anything.

The houses each had a wood burning stove in it with a proper smoke stack protruding out of the roof. They built the wood stove by welding old metal together in a small box shape, the size of a large bread box. It had a small hinged door on the end to add the sticks of wood, to keep the house warm and it worked really well. As a matter of fact, its problem was sometimes too much heat and then we had to open the door to vent it out. It was very warm and snuggly in there even on very cold days. The top of the stove was flat and so many times my mom would send cans of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup along and we would open those cans and heat the soup on the stove. It made a perfect lunch, especially since she sent along bologna sandwiches made with white squishy bread. It tasted best if actually dipped into the noodle soup.

After the houses were fully constructed and painted a light green sea foam color, a paint left from past projects, they had to be taken with the pickup, one at a time to Mille Lacs. A lot of discussion always occurred between Dad and Grandpa over the decision about where to put the houses. Should the houses be placed over the shallows, fifteen or more feet, or the deep waters? Knowing where the fish would be was a decision based upon years of fishing knowledge.

The houses were built on skids to make pulling them easier on the lake. They were considered seasonal houses and so they stayed on the lake all winter, but could be moved around by Grandpa and Dad if they wanted to try a new spot. Once set onto the lake, we could go whenever we wanted to fish. As a truck driver, Dad was laid off in the winter and there was not much farm work in the winter either. Grandpa was retired so they could go fishing anytime they wanted.

When we were not in school we could go along. We would leave with Grandpa and Dad before sunrise with our lunch in the black hinged top, old fashioned lunch pail. We usually had rice krispie bars along with our soup and sandwiches and some peanuts or other snacks for mid-afternoon. We took the pickup truck drove onto the ice along makeshift roads plowed right on the ice of Mille Lacs.

We pulled up to the fish houses and file into them. The first thing Dad and Grandpa had to do was to cut the large square holes, and then they lowered a big minnow into the hole. The minnow was held low in the hole by a loop of string around its gills, like a leash and the other end was attached to the ceiling of the fish house. This allowed the minnow to swim around in the hole, but not get away.

The person fishing had the fishing spear attached to their wrist and standing against the side of the inside of the house ready to grab if they saw a fish go after the minnow. We sat on the wood bench built into the fish house, our gaze fixed on the hole. We traded off sitting with Grandpa and Dad, and a lot of good conversation took place during these outings. This is a sport that takes lots of patience. They would let us have the spear and fish too. We did not have the talent they had, but I actually remember spearing two fish over the years. One was a small Northern and the other a rough fish that is called an Eelpout. It is an ugly fish with skin. When Grandpa saw I speared it, he laughed and said “lets get that ugly thing off of our good spear.”

Sometimes during casual conversation the minnow would get jittery and start trying to swim away, and it was then that you knew there was something big coming. My Dad would grab the spear and wait. Sometimes the large Northern would swim into view, and stop to look at the minnow. Those were easier to spear, but other times you just saw the large fish dart through while going after the minnow, and sometimes there was a chance for a shot. They may came back into the hole for another pass, or other times they grabbed the minnow and they were gone.

It was mostly a slow relaxed sport, except for those few minutes of extreme excitement and elation if they actually speared the fish and successfully got it out of the hole. Many of the fish were of average size, but there were those very large Northerns sometimes, that made you think there were monster Northern Pike in that lake. Fortunately, we have pictures to prove that my memories were correct. They caught some really large fish, but more importantly we had some really special times with my dad and grandpa.

Fishing was a special event with Dad and Grandpa, but it was so much more. We did not know it at the time, but they were teaching us many lessons. We learned that my dad and grandpa were really talented at building things and resourceful. They taught us how to fish, but they also taught us patience, and the joy of appreciating our environment and the beauty of our lakes.

They were the best dad and grandpa kids could ask for. They left us with great memories of our times together and taught us lifelong skills. They taught us to work together as a team, to relax and have fun, and to save and not be wasteful, and by their great parenting, I feel they taught us to be good parents and to include our kids in the things we did and teach them lifelong skills. Fishing with Dad and Grandpa is not only a beautiful memory, but the age old process of passing down from one generation to another the many skills needed for a full, fun and successful life.

The Energy of Spring in Our Blood

March 17, 2016March 17, 2016Leave a comment

Spring not only gets the Maple tree sap flowing, the warming sunlight adds a bounce to our step as if spring is actually flowing through our veins. There is something promising in what is to come, with the creeks slowly opening and water starts to drip and then flow. The ice on the lakes slowly recedes as it gets warmer, and we have more sunlight and energy. The drastic differences between the Minnesota seasons are amazing and spring is a particularly special time.

The weather beacons us outside after a long winter. The sound of water flowing on the farm was irresistible for us as kids. Even though the creeks were freezing cold we would take off our shoes and walk into the water until our feet were starting to become numb. We sat on the bank warming them in the sun and marveling at the bird sounds, the re-emerging bugs and frogs and the warm winds blowing in the dry grasses. My brothers, Dave and Jim and I were always exploring the farm and hanging out by the creek and in the woods. It never failed, we always had big ideas to build a raft and try to sail it along the creek in the spring as the water was high and moving fast with the melting snow and spring rains.

We built a raft a number of years in a row. We used scrap wood lying around the farm, and we had work shops full of tools and nails and whatever we needed. Our parents were very tolerant of such shenanigans as it probably kept us busy and maybe we learned some building skills. We would sometimes draw up a crude plan and then search for the materials. It usually took a few days or more to build anything worth while. We had all read Tom Sawyer and so the
conversations we had while building were as much fun as the actual launching. Our anticipation of how it would work and how far we could get always exceeded the capabilities of what we had built, but we were never dissuaded by past failures.

Each year we built as if this was our year to be very successful. As each year passed we grew older and wiser in building our raft. I wish we would have had cell phones back then, because then we would have pictures of those beauties. We just have our memories, which are probably somewhat distorted. When I imagine the rafts, they look like a small version of the rafts from the Tom Sawyer movies.

We had three logs or half logs on the bottom and on the top, short boards nailed into a platform that we could sit on, and some long sticks to try to push and steer it from the bottom or the creek banks. Sometimes our neighbors or cousins helped. We always watched out for each other so no one was hurt and the only injuries I ever remember is minor things like scrapes or the occasional black fingernail from pounding our own fingers.

We did not have a very deep creek even when it was swollen for spring, but it was enough to float our little raft about halfway through our pasture if we did not load it too full. Usually only one or two of us could go on at a time and it got stuck often in the weeds or shallow areas, but we always considered the project a success if we could get it to float with one of us on it for even a short stretch down the creek. It was usually my brother Jim who volunteered to ride the raft.

He still is an adventurous guy, and also was the youngest at the time, so probably the lightest for riding the raft. Nevertheless he was always game to give the untested raft a try. I still remember dragging our heavy creation to the creek and the elation we felt as we actually got it floating with Jim aboard, riding proudly like one of the Spanish explorers we had read about. It was a spring ritual for a number of years. I suspect that there may still be remnants of some of our creations in the area where the creek turned narrow and shallow and we were all done navigating the creek for the year.

I think the ritual was more about being outside and feeling the sunshine and the cool waters than any real need to navigate the creek. We also slopped around in big boots in the pastures as we let our beef cattle out of their winter pens. Most of the mamas had calves by this time and the beautiful deep red colored calves with white faces were as happy as we were to be let free in the green, fresh spring grasses. They would follow their mamas and would literally kick up their heals when they first felt the grass on their hooves and smelled the freshness of spring.

Spring is still an exciting time for me. It seems as if winter makes our blood thick and slow, but as soon as that spring thaw starts I have an overwhelming urge to dig in my garden and to step in the puddles. I cannot wait to plant my flowers and plan a little vegetable garden. I look at garden websites and survey my dry dead gardens and imagine what they will be with some tender loving care. I love digging in the dirt in the spring, and even cleaning the leaves. There is still a lot of farm girl in me. I even own a small tractor despite the fact that I am not farming. I watch the lake edge at our home and marvel as we slowly get running water past our shoreline and eventually full ice out. I don’t have to build a raft to enjoy the water as we now have boats and kayaks but the memories of building rafts on the farm with my brothers came flooding back this weekend when standing on the edge of our lake in the warm sunshine, watching the ice melt before our eyes.

The energy of spring flows in my veins as I open the windows wide and the fresh spring air fills the house with the clean smell of a new season. The buds start forming on the trees, and the birds even their pleasure with the end of winter. We walk the dog in the sunshine and feel warm and energized. Spring is a time of fresh renewal and infinite possibilities, of beautiful flowers being surveyed by the butterflies, cooking with the fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden and floating along the lake watching the herons and the eagles emerging in the ever increasing sun leading to summer. Enjoy and appreciate the spring for its fresh possibilities!

Glitter, Champagne, and Doing the New Year Right

January 7, 2016January 7, 2016Leave a comment

I love New Year’s Celebrations. It represents a reason to get together with friends for one final celebration after all of the major holidays are over and we all go back to work in January. (Usually we are trying to catch up after all of the goofing off we did during the holiday season). It is an easy holiday because there are no presents or shopping needed; it is a pure 2000f enjoyment type holiday. Also, the thought of a new fresh start is always exciting to me. You get to begin again on whatever your aspirations and goals, or set new goals. I like to look forward and decide on something new to learn in the coming year or try something I have never tried before.

Some people make New Years resolutions and set such things as weight goals or getting healthy and those are fine, but it is also our opportunity to have gratitude for all of the things we have and all of the things we have accomplished in the past year, and to shut the door on any disappointments or troubles we had in the past. We can also take stock of 2000d where we are with our dreams, our family, our job and life itself. We can plan and look forward to making a great year for ourselves. I plan fun things for us and get them booked in the cold winter months. I try to have something fun to do at least once each month.

Before New Years Eve I find a quiet place at home, at work, or at a coffee shop, and I do my planning and dreaming. I think, “What would I like to be grateful for next New Year’s and what steps would I take to achieve that goal?” Some are lofty, out-there goals, and others are very attainable with some discipline. Once my planning is done and I feel good about my plan, I am ready to celebrate the coming of the New Year. Every year is a new year of possibilities. New hopes, new dreams and sometimes a continuation of goals and dreams, but always mixed with plenty of gratitude for what we do have.

When the night arrives, I dress for it, I plan for it and I always enjoy it. There is always 2000c champagne or some other special drink involved and glitter, somewhere or everywhere. Most years it is glitter eye shadow for the occasion and when we were in college in the 1970’s, New Year’s always involved sprinkling glitter on each other at midnight, which usually turned into dumping glitter on one another. It was a complete mess and I would find glitter in my hair and in the shower for days! When I was dating it always involved going downtown for the action of the big city and when I was married and our kids were young, it was family activities that usually ended at 10:00 p.m. instead of midnight.

One of my favorite New Year’s celebrations of all time was when it turned the year 2000. What a celebration that was! I cannot believe it is over 15 years ago. How time flies. There was so much hype in the years before, about our entire computer system and possibly society collapsing because of this Y2K bug as it was called. People were stockpiling food and gold and guns trying to be prepared for anything. We did not have a lot of concern and believed we were fine, but decided to take the kids out and celebrate big just in case. We went to a German restaurant that had prepared special food and they had a polka band and a guy dressed like the Kaiser getting people to dance. We had so much fun that night and threw all of our cares to the wind. We had a little wine, ate good food and danced with the kids as a family. There is nothing better than family time.

We celebrated with gusto as we ended a century and turned the calendar to the year 2000. It was the last night of a thousand years and the first night of a thousand more years, which made it particularly spectacular, but the 2000e fact that it came with threats of potential doom, lent an air of “eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die” attitude. The threats of gloom and doom were not very believable, so it was more exciting than any kind of real fear of a disaster. It did however, reaffirm that none of us knows what tomorrow brings, so it is important to take every opportunity to celebrate with glitter, crazy hats, and good food and drink with your family. The most important thing in life is to enjoy the moment, because on our deathbed, 2000g we will not remember things that we did at work, but we will remember those times that we celebrated life. We will remember those times when we got dressed up and wore glitter and when we danced with a child in our arms, laughing until our sides ached and kissed at the stroke of midnight. Celebrate New Year’s with gusto every year. It is the opportunity for new beginnings and the beginning of new opportunities.

The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers

December 31, 2015December 30, 2015Leave a comment

I loved watching Winnie the Pooh when the kids were little. My favorite character was Tigger and my favorite line was “The wonderful thing about Tiggers, is Tiggers are wonderful things. Their tops are made out of rubber, their bottoms are made out of springs.” Well frankly, I love the entire cliptiggerhappy3 scene with Tigger bouncing around, happy and having fun; always positive and upbeat. Then there was the Eeyore. The little donkey would walk with his head hanging down and his tail dragging with a black cloud over his head, and talk with his gloomy, depressed, pessimistic attitude, looking at the bad side of everything. Well in life I have found that everyone is either an Eeyore or a Tigger. You know I am right, because right now in your head you are placing every person you know, in your family and at work, in one or the other category.

Of course people are complex and many life factors can affect all of us, but I have a theory that each of us has selected, probably early on in our lives, clipeeyorest2 the main characteristics of one or the other of these personalities. We have chosen happiness or we have chosen to be that negative nay-sayer in the family and at work. I don’t think people are one at work and the other personality at home. People select for whatever genetic, educational, family-rearing or circumstances that they are a happy person and look at the bright side of life or they do not. I do think that people can change and that is why I think there are so many studies out there about choosing happiness.

We all know that we like being around the Tiggers, but sometimes Tiggers can be exhausting, energetic and may come off as bragging too much. Really the bragging is not so much bragging to get attention; they just talk about positive, good things and don’t dwell on the difficulties of life. I also think that because they have a bright outlook, things do turn out better for them. Because they have that happy attitude they do not dwell on little things that are not perfect. For example, they do not dwell on it if the food they ordered at the restaurant was not perfect, or that someone they thought was coming to a party did not show up. They enjoy the people that do show up and they talk about the restaurant décor that was lovely or the conversation that flowed nicely at dinner.

Dwelling on the positive is a way of life. It is a lot more fun to be that person in the meeting at work who is thinking up ways to get a new initiative done or make a change, than the person who sits in the meeting telling everyone why their ideas won’t work and why the change will be tigger_and_eeyore_by_inkartwriter-d57k6yi unsuccessful. Likewise it is more fun to be the person in the family around the dinner table who tells a fun story or talks about plans for the family to travel or for a fun outing, than the person who comes home grumpy and makes everyone miserable. That is the family member who can only talk about the dishes not being done and the laundry piling up. The Tigger tells stories while everyone helps with the cleaning and laundry, making plans for fun adventures.

People can change, but it takes work and even if we are normally very positive we can work on being even more optimistic and helping others feel good about themselves. Try going one week without saying anything negative, including things you say in the privacy of your own car while driving. Remember that person who pulled out slow in front of you is probably someone’s 80 years old father taking his wife to church. Remember that cashier who is struggling to check you out may have learning disabilities or it is their first job. Practice patience and positivity. Try complimenting people and only giving positive feedback at work, at home and in your community, and you will see a difference in your own happiness. Making others happy and being positive works to make a better world for everyone. There are two kinds of people; the Tiggers and the Eeyores. Choose wisely.

Standing on the Edge of Time

December 17, 2015December 16, 20151 Comment

Anyone who knows me well knows that I like to visit natural, beautiful and amazing places on the earth. I live for it and I never feel as relaxed and comfortable as when I am hiking or spending time immersed in natural beauty. I spend as much of my time as possible researching and traveling to reach those special places. Our time on this earth is limited and precious. The earth has been around for approximately 4.5 billion years and there is no better place to appreciate the passage of time as when you stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon or witness the beauty of the Canadian Rockies, the vast oceans, or the Utah canyons. The beauty is almost overwhelming and you get a sense that you are standing on the edge of time.

We have visited some very beautiful places over the years with our family. I remember my kids running in the Canadian Rockies on a stop by a stream. They were young at the time, but with the mountains in the back and the sun shining so bright, they literally leapt out of the car and ran with their arms in the air as if trying to appreciate the vastness of the beauty. It seemed almost instinctive for them to relish the great outdoors. Of course it could have been that we were on a driving vacation for three weeks and they were always happy to get out of the Yukon for a while. I know they did like it. They always seem to have fond memories when they talk about those vacations now. We did have a lot of fun on those driving trips. They had no fear and seemed to enjoy rolling in the long grass and wadding into the cool water. We went to a lot of inspiring places, including Yellowstone and the Olympic National forest, Nova Scotia and the Colorado Rockies.

For me, I could stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon or the cliffs and canyon crevasses in among the red rocks of Utah and think about how they were formed and how long the earth has been around. I like to contemplate all of the many peoples that stood in that same spot looking at those same formations for thousands of years and how these natural wonders were formed by billions of years of water and wind. I like the historical aspect, but more importantly I like the way it made me feel; insignificant and powerful all at the same time. You are witnessing life itself in all its past and present glory and soaking in the beauty created by the passage of time. All of my work-a-day cares fade away when I stand on the ledge of that cliff or hike that narrow path along the edge of a vast valley lush with trees and wildlife. It is a connection back with the preciousness of time and a connection with our roots and the earth and time itself. We were not meant to be indoors for days on end without spending our time with nature.

Time is the most important thing we have. We cannot have anything else without it. We need time for love, time for family and time for travel and fun. Without time we have nothing. Time feels like a concept, but time is a concrete thing over which we have absolutely no control. We can feel time pass and we know when we run out of time and when our time is being wasted, or well spent. Being immersed in great natural beauty is time well spent. Stand on the edge of time and wonder at the possibilities.

Capturing Our Life Through Art

October 29, 2015October 29, 2015Leave a comment

Once the weather starts turning cooler in the fall, I have an overwhelming need to dig in closets and drawers and try to start nesting for the winter. As much as I love summer and the water, and outdoor activities, I enjoy fall for the colors and the crisp cool air and I enjoy the quiet peacefulness and coziness of a weekend in a warm house in the winter.

My need to dig through closets and spend time cleaning house and getting rid of stuff that I do not need probably starts because the hustle and bustle of summer leaves this wake of stuff laying around that we didn’t take the time to put away, rushing from one activity to another before summer passes us by. We fit a lot into one season. It is probably good we do not live in California with the fine weather all year round. We would never have a winter to recover. Don’t get me wrong, we do plenty in winter, but it is no comparison to the summer and the back-to-back fun-ness in which we engage. When the weather starts turning, I clean coolers and put them away, hang the lifejackets and the bikes, and put away the adventure pants. I dig in my drawers and closets and donate all things taking up space that are no longer used. The cleaning and organizing process is easier now that we are empty nesters. It is just less space and people to pick up after.

In cleaning drawers this week I ran across a large box and folder with black and white photos of my family. When the kids were younger and we lived in the woods of Blaine, we had a really nice 35mm camera. I decide to try black and white photography. I love the look of old black and white photos and this was before everybody carried a phone with a camera that has black and white options. It does not seem that long ago that I decided to get artsy and try black and white photography, but the pictures are telling of how long ago it was. My kids are all now in their twenties, so looking at the photos was really fun and brought back a lot of good memories. My kids were really good sports about it. I brought out the costume box and they were willing to participate with multiple costume changes and my direction for an attempt to capture different settings and emotions through my new found artsy photography interest.

Our costume box was amazing. We had every kind of costume you could imagine, from beautiful dresses and dance costumes, to Harry Potter, goulash masks and pretend bloody hands for zombie costumes and of course the gorilla and banana. We had boxes of hats and we had wings, and we had props like fake crows and swords and a staff. Even neighbors borrowed costumes from us when they had an occasion for such things. I loved our costume box and the kids and their friends had a lot of fun with them, even when it was not Halloween. We were known in the neighborhood for our selection of costumes. I think part of the fun for the kids with the “photo” sessions was that they did get to pretend and wear a lot of different costumes. I had to always wait for a sunny day to have the right lighting, but I used our woods as a backdrop and took most photos outside.

I had a lot of fun doing that with the kids and after a weekend of shooting photos, I would take my film to Wal-Mart, who by the way did a great job developing black and whites and actually used real black and white paper for the processing. I could not wait to get the final product back
and the kids and I had a lot of fun looking through them afterwards. Some seemed great by accident and others were definitely not keepers. The fun part in looking through them this fall is that I had kept them all, good and bad. Surprisingly, some of the ones I would not have considered keepers turned out to be some of the best ones with hindsight.
I had a perfect picture of the kids in black and white that I had considered so good that I used it as our Christmas card that year, but the photos leading up to that photo were some of 3some2 the best ones that captured their sense of humor and their sheer joy of goofing off together. I can ask my kids to smile on a picture and they did well, but when I accidentally captured them laughing with each other in between pictures or them trying, unsuccessfully to put on a serious face, for a more dramatic picture, I actually captured them in their most honest and true sense. It is unrehearsed and pure. I see their personalities when I look back at those pictures and I see a family of kids that will always be friends. I see sheer joy in the moment and a camaraderie that they will always share.

As different as they are in many ways, they are close siblings with many fun and loving memories together. My stint of trying my hand at the art of black and white photography actually captured our family in a moment of time when we all lived together and enjoyed every aspect of life, including those slow Sundays in costume together, trying to capture art and emotion, in the
woods of our backyard. I thought I was being artsy, and by accident I created a box of memories that may have faded with time. I look at the photos and I am there in time enjoying the moment.

3some3 Time passes so quickly and even though it seems like yesterday to me, these kids are now gone and forging their lives and making new memories. We still have a lot of great times together, but they will never again be those giggly, young kids who were willing to go along with Mom’s idea to try something new and play dress up, while she tried to get just the right shot. I actually entered a couple of the photos into an art contest in Blaine and even though I did not win, they were displayed in the City Hall for a few months. I felt proud that they had been accepted into the contest and I felt accomplished that I had tried something new and actually enjoyed it more than I thought. We went as a family to look at all of the art and it was special that they could see themselves in an art display.

I did not know it at the time, but I had actually captured our life through art in a moment of time that we will never have again. Make your memories each day, because in the blink of an eye, today is gone and tomorrow is a memory. Days turn into weeks and weeks into years. Don’t let those days fly by without taking time to enjoy each moment and to create beautiful memories for those around you.

Sun, Surf, Salsa & Dolphins

October 15, 2015October 14, 2015Leave a comment

We have taken a lot of great vacations with our kids over the years, but our trips to Mexico to escape the Minnesota winters rate very high on our favorite’s list. On prior vacations we had been out of the country, but only to Canada. Mexico was our first big trip flying out of the country and it required that everyone in the family have a passport. The kids were young at the time as our first visit was in 2004. We were all very excited about it. Joe booked an all inclusive resort in Playa Del Carmen just south of Cancun. All inclusive resorts are the best deal when you are traveling with kids. The food, drinks and fun are included, so as parents you do not have to keep pulling out your wallet every time the kids need a soda or a meal. The food was amazing. Endless buffets of fresh fruits, veggies, fish, meats and always lots of fresh salsa and chips.

Our resort had informal buffets by the pools, all day long, in case you did not want to miss any of the ocean and pool fun. The pools all had a view of the ocean and the resort staff stood ready at the ocean to lend you fins and snorkels or give you lessons on the sailboats for use by the guests. There was an endless amount of activities to participate in and when you all had too much sun, you could go shopping in the villages or on tours.

There were more formal buffets in two different dining rooms in the main lodge, for evenings,
and vendors sold jewelry under the night sky, perfect to look at while strolling with a glass of wine. Family friendly movies played on the beach at night, and other nights they had magic shows and dancers of all kinds to entertain the guests. We always said it was like being on a cruise, but without the boat. These were fun times with the kids. I had to bring along a lot of sunscreen and big T-shirts so that the hot Mexican sun did not burn their white, winter Minnesota skin. Everyone got too much sun anyway, but we did our best.

On our first trip to Mexico, with our new fresh passports in hand, we decided to go through customs in an order where Joe went through first, and then the kids between us, and me last. So we were book ending our kids to make sure everyone stayed together. After we landed, we gave each of the kids their passports to hold under our watchful eye, and Joe proceeded forward as planned. His passport got a quick stamp and so did Sara and Ben as they went through. When it came to Jenny, just in front of me, the agent looked at her and her passport and looked at me. He looked at a fellow agent beside him and conversed in Spanish, a language I had not mastered enough to follow other than to clumsily order food or a drink, or exchange simple greetings. He was not stamping her passport and continued to discuss something with his coworker and even pointed at her passport. I exchanged a glance with Joe, as he stood just beyond the red ropes after passing through customs and he kind of shrugged. The Mexican customs agent stopped talking and looked at her passport again. I mustered up my best lawyer, authoritative, but respectful, no nonsense voice and said “Is there a problem?” He looked at me and said “no” and stamped her passport and mine and we were through. After we were out of earshot I expressed my concern to Joe and his response was “they were probably just talking about what they wanted for lunch.” That was a good laugh and ended our concern.

We moved on to our awaiting resort van with our tour guides dressed in matching flowery shirts, and we were off for fun and sun! We went sailing and snorkeled with every kind of fish possible. One day we decided to go to a natural water park of sorts called Xcarat. It was a short bus ride away and offered a full day of family fun. It had manatees and birds of every kind. It had bell helmet diving for the entire family. We tried everything. Jenny was the youngest and so on these adventures she had to in some ways be the bravest. She was so small but she put on her heavy bell helmet and she snorkeled with us and she never complained. I sometimes think it is why she is so adventurous now in her twenties because she was required to participate in a lot of things at a very young age.

Xcarat also had snorkeling on a river through caves and it offered swimming with the dolphins. Even though this was a little pricy, I viewed it as a once in a lifetime opportunity to enjoy the dolphins when the kids were most excited about the allure and beauty of dolphins and the ocean. They had seen movies about dolphins and read about dolphins, but to touch a Mex04b nd swim with them was magical. The looks on their faces was worth the price. It was the highlight of the trip and something they still talk about as adults.

The kids loved the people in Mexico and interacted with them with ease. The young adults working at the resort worked on teaching the kids Spanish. When they came to get towels at the pool they used the Spanish word they had learned to ask for them and said please and thank you in Spanish. Sara studied a little Spanish in school and actually helped us out when we were a little lost at the Xcarat resort. We had gotten into an area that was more remote in the park while looking for the Mex04d restaurant. The workers at the resort in that particular area were working on a construction project and not the workers trained to work with guests. They spoke no English so Sara stepped in and tried her best to use her Spanish to find our way to the area for lunch. She was successful and they understood enough of what she was saying to direct us to where we needed to be. The kids even learned enough Spanish on our vacations to negotiate purchases at the little stores and to order at restaurants.

We also went to Mexico and an all inclusive in 2007 when the kids were a little older, and that time we went to the island of Cozumel. That was an entirely different experience because they were older and we did different things. The girls went parasailing and Ben and I went scuba diving. That Ben has always been a lot better than me at diving. He is a natural. Calm and cool on the dive and he was the best dive buddy ever. He watched after me and we saw sharks and barracuda together. It was a mother and son bonding event.

One day on Cozumel we rented a van and a local driver to take us slowly around the entire island. We stopped at beaches and the Mayan ruins and the shops and local restaurants. We saw sights and tried to enjoy the local food, culture and the people, in the warm Mexican sunshine. We had good times together and filled each day with activities, and then at the end of each busy day, when we were all tired from too much sun and fun, we had great food together while listening to the live music and shows provided by the resort.

I am so thankful we took the time to do these adventures together. We will always have those memories. Once the kids started college and worked on creating their own lives, making those family memories was a lot harder. We took the time away from our jobs and the kid’s busy sports, band and school schedules to make family time that they will remember forever. We notr only had a great time, but the kids learned to interact with and respect people from other countries and cultures, and they learned to be brave in the big blue ocean and in trying new and exciting and sometimes scary things, like snorkeling in caves. They learned how to go through customs and navigate through airports together. They ate unfamiliar food and learned to love it. They swam with dolphins and they laughed and played together in the warm sunshine. There is nothing more important than family and family adventures. In hindsight, we had a really good time together as a family, but our kids also learned life lessons and now have fond memories of our time together. It made us all closer and stronger. Time is irreplaceable. Use it well.

Sister Love

October 8, 20151 Comment

I come from a family of five children raised in the 1960’s and 70’s. I am in the exact middle of
the five, with an older sister and brother and two younger brothers. My
only sister, Kathy is the oldest in the family and we are three years apart. We are alike in as many ways as we are different, but we are sisters and that means something, including that we were each other’s first girlfriends and we learned about life, fashion, relationships, boys, and dreams from each other and we always had a closeness that only sisters would understand.

We were each other’s first sleep over buddies as we shared a room while growing up, and we shared clothes and learned how to get along and how to treat others. We played Barbies, house, dress up and we did each other’s hair. We almost always got along, other than one fight that involved kicking each others bikes and some hair pulling. We learned very early from each other, that we did not like fighting and of course we were given a penalty by our mother of picking all of the strawberries in the strawberry patch for our misbehavior, which was a hateful job. My mother was very clever, because having to do the hateful job together for hours, brought us closer together. By the end, we were laughing and throwing strawberries at each other, all in good fun and so we would have less to clean.

As we got into high school and college, we shared clothes and I visited her on campus, and we even went on a double date. We confided in one another and we sought advice on everything from our college plans, to guys and dating. She would come home on weekends from her college and we knew some of the local guys. Don’t tell our mother, but a common activity was parking in the gravel pits. I went with a date one time when Kathy was home. We had been at the bars, her with her friends and me with mine and we each knew the other was out. It was common after the bars closed to continue the party at the gravel pits. It was more of a party place than a place to be alone with a date. When we would get to the gravel pits there were other cars and it became a social event talking with others. My date pulled up to another car to talk to his buddy before we joined the bonfire going on at the pits. I leaned over to see who his buddy was with and it was Kathy. We both laughed and did not say a word, of course until we got home and then we had a good laugh. True story, so don’t deny it Kathy!!

Kathy married a really nice guy and moved to Ortonville, and I moved to the cities after college.
Even though it was hard and even though sometimes we went weeks without contact, we managed even when we were busy raising kids and building our careers to stay close. We called each other when we needed to, but even when we did not have contact for periods of time, we knew the other was there for us anytime we needed a confidant or just someone to listen. We still relied upon each other for that sisterly advice and to gain support or an honest opinion.

After being a nurse for a few years, I decided to take the LSAT and go to law school, and Kathy was the first person in my family that I told. I told her first to have a respected opinion before I told my parents. I think I needed reassurance that I was not crazy to pursue this career especially since I was entering law school, having never even met an attorney. It was a way to test to see if she thought the idea was crazy. She did not know it at the time, but my career and future may have depended in part on her reaction. I respected her opinion and wanted some input from someone who knew me the best of anyone in the world. 140220 859 Had she said anything to make me think I was out of my mind to think I wanted to go to law
school, I may have rethought the idea. In true sister fashion, she was one hundred percent supportive. She started with “If that is what you want, you go for it.” And she was supportive in telling me she believed in my ability to handle the challenge. She always knew what to say and she knew how to be supportive.

As we have aged, we have grown even closer. We have called each other with worries about our kids or now with our parents, and we provide each other that listening ear and advice. We are now both empty nesters, and Kathy has an early retirement as a teacher. This gives her more time to come visit and plan for our sister fun. In the last few years we have become concert buddies, going to Billy Joel, the Eagles, Madonna and Fleetwood Mac. She usually buys the tickets online, as she is good at watching and buying at just the right time to get the good seats, and then comes to my house to stay and we get dressed up and make an event of it. It is so much fun, we take selfies and post on Facebook, and we dance and clap to music that was popular when we were in college. We reminisce about our college days and we catch up on our lives and our kid’s lives.

We have also gotten together at the lake house for a little sister bonding time. We went paddle boarding, kayaking and biking. It is so nice having a sister who enjoys the same things I enjoy, and it is different being with a sister than a friend. Friends are great, but a sister is special. A sister will support and encourage you even if your dreams may be far fetched, but a sister will also be brutally honest if that dress makes you look like a grandma, in a bad way.

Kathy has worked really hard to be in top physical shape. She is an inspiration with her competitive running and daily bike rides. I need to emulate that more, as I sit behind a desk too much of the time. I had a great bike ride with her a few weeks ago. I had always poked fun at bike riders who wear lycra. I do trail rides and while I can ride easily for 25 miles and have done 50 miles many times, I had taken pride in the fact that I do not wear lycra.

On this particular ride with Kathy, she broke out the riding shorts with the gel padded seat and put them on for our anticipated 25 mile ride. I laughed, because that is what sisters do and she told me in that big sister voice that she brought a pair for me to try. I said I was not wearing those, because they make my butt look big. She said, in a very matter of fact way, “What do you care, you’re not for sale anyway.” (Referring to the fact that I am married and have been for almost 30 years). A good point and one I had not really thought about. “Besides…” she said, “who sees you on the bike trail anyway?” Another very good point. She was always the smarter of the two of us. She was so right, but I have to say I was hesitant at the utility of the shorts in relationship to the butt magnitude. Well it only took a few miles to appreciate what I have been missing for years. The bike shorts were awesome and it not only made the ride better and smoother, but I could go a lot more miles without discomfort. I admitted to her that she was once again right, and then in true sisterly fashion, she had not only convinced me that the shorts were awesome, she took that extra step to buy me some on her way back home through St. Cloud and mail them to me. That is a sister!!

I have always been close to my family. I have wonderful brothers and have great parents. I am lucky to have close friends and to have stayed close to many of my cousins and extended family, but a bond with your sister is like no other. I have only one sister and maybe that affects my perspective, but a sister is unique. The bond between sisters is not like any other. We do not need to talk to each other every day or even every week, but we know the other is always there and would drop everything we are doing if the other needed help. We share experiences together and enjoy each other’s company. We confide in each other and look to the other for advice, comfort and sometimes just to listen. I have been lucky to have a sister in my life and to share the sister love!

Liking Biking

August 20, 2015August 19, 2015Leave a comment

I have liked biking since the 1960’s when my parents brought home my first “big” bike. It was a Schwinn of course, blue and white. I rode it so much, I wore out the seat after a couple of years and we replaced it with a yellow sparkling banana seat, which were all the rage back then. I wish I still had that bike and that seat. They were cool. Our bikes were our independence before we could drive. We rode about a half mile into town to the little store to buy ice cream or we rode to get books at the book mobile. The book mobile was like a little traveling library that stopped in all of the small towns, to allow people to check out books in the summer. It was a great concept. It is still around; I saw one recently when driving up north of Duluth.

Since those early days on my Schwinn, I have never had a time where I did not have a bike. I have never had anything fancy, just trail or road bikes, and I have never worn Lycra to ride my bike. In college, I biked to and from work in the summers, and once we had our kids, they always had trikes and bigger bikes as they got older. I once rode 50 miles with my kids on the Paul Bunyan trail by Brainerd MN, while all of us were dressed like pirates. It was a fundraising event for the Bar Association. They had prizes for the fastest time, largest group, and one prize for the best costumes. I told my kids ahead of time that we will never be fastest because there are a lot of Attorneys who wear lycra while riding bikes that cost them $3000, but I said they should come up with costumes, because that is an area where we can excel. The kids came up with the pirate costume idea and we won the prize! I think we were the last team to come in.

Bike Pirates

My kids were complaining about their legs and their bikes as we passed the miles away. Some had those three quarter size bikes as they were still pretty young and I had a nice trail bike. So when they would whine about their legs hurting or being tired, I would trade bikes with them. I should get an award for driving most of those 50 miles on a three quarter size kid’s bikes with poor gearing. My paralegal, Carol, who I have worked with for over 25 years and who is a good sport for sure, came with us because Joe had to work. She also dressed like a pirate and we did have some fun!

We started biking the Minnesota and Wisconsin “rails to trails” (railroads turned into bike trails) when our kids were really young. My husband pulled a cart behind his bike and I had a carrier on mine. He sometimes pulled two kids and a small cooler in the cart at the same time and for a few of those years he had thighs like Thor. He also sometimes had to drive the trail with us and then drive the entire way back on the trail to go get the Yukon while we waited.

As the kids grew, we could do more miles and more trails. Those rails to trails were perfect for the kids, because they are all really flat. We could carry a small cooler with sandwiches and snacks on the cart and if the smallest kid got tired, we would duct tape their little bike to the cart and let them ride for a while. The kids would sometimes fall asleep in the cart and other times I could hear them singing to entertain themselves. They seemed to sing the Sponge Bob Square pants song a lot when biking. When our youngest Jenny was old enough to ride a tag-a-long behind Joe, we got rid of the cart and I had packs on my bike for the lunch or snacks. She and Joe could really move and make time when she was on that tag-a-long. They were always ahead of the rest of us and got to our destination the fastest.

We biked around Mackinaw Island with the two younger kids in the cart behind Joe, while Sara and I rode a bicycle built for two. She and I chatted the whole way around. It was so nice to spend the day together on a bike. She always enjoyed biking and was always upbeat and helpful as a little girl. That was a fun family vacation and we had perfect weather for it. Another year we rented bikes and drove around Yosemite National Park while on vacation in California. We did a lot of the trails in Minnesota and Wisconsin over the years. I always had a rule that they could not take me to a buffet on Mother’s day until I was eighty years old. They had to take me on an adventure, so they took me biking different interesting trails that we had never tried before.

Yosemite

We sometimes had to problem solve. We biked in one area of Western Minnesota and one of my daughters who shall remain nameless ( Sara) complained that her underwear was bothering her and riding up. I suggested she go “Cowboy” as we called it in our house, so on our next rest stop she went cowboy (no underwear) for the rest of the ride and I heard no more complaining. Problem solved. We once ran out of water and had to stop at a gas station and we had to sometimes use an outhouse on some trails. We had one outhouse in Southern Minnesota that had two holes side by side. Jenny asked why they would do that and so I said it was so two of us could go at the same time and chit chat while on the pot. She was quite young at the time and she wanted to try that so we did. Girl talk and chit chat while peeing. It was nice.

One of our favorite trails was the Lanesboro trail in Southeastern Minnesota. We still enjoy it. It is flat as can be and runs through some of the most picturesque landscapes in Minnesota. There is a little town every 6 or 7 miles to stop and look around or rest, and it winds along small rivers and past sandstone cliffs. There are a lot of fun places to stay in Lanesboro including an apartment above an art gallery on Main Street and an old mill made into a hotel, with themed rooms. There are a lot of cool options for dinner too, which is nice after a day of biking. It is a romantic town set in a valley and is good for couples as well as family friendly. It is fun anytime, but it is particularly beautiful in the fall. The cooler temps are also a plus when biking. Bike_Lanesboro03

We did the Lanesboro trail with my good friend from Law school and her family when our kids were all tweens. Her daughter Courtney was on a tag along behind her Mom and my Jenny was behind Joe on the tag along. The girls had Walkie Talkies (before cell phones for kids) and Courtney fell off the tag along trying to use the walkie talkie while driving. A first good lesson in driving and using phones, but luckily no damage was done, as we were just getting started and no one was driving very fast yet.

Another favorite was the Elroy-Sparta State trail in Wisconsin. It is 32 miles long and the best part of this trail is that it is an old railway bed (like the other rails to trails), but this one has three preserved train tunnels that you drive through with your bike. One is three quarter’s of a mile long and the other two are about a half mile long. As you drive along the trail through the woods, you can feel the air becoming cooler and damp as you get closer to the tunnels. You can also smell the tunnels as you approach. It is really more like a cave then a tunnel. There is water dripping inside and it is pitch dark; you can only see the small light at the end of the tunnel in the distance. The dark, cool, moist tunnels are a real treat when biking in the hot summer. It is like stepping into air conditioning. Most people walk their bikes through the tunnels holding flashlights. It would be difficult to make it through the tunnel without those flash lights. The first time through we actually taped flashlights to the kids’ bikes which they really liked. The dark tunnels added to the adventure and the uniqueness of this trail. Just writing about it again makes me want to go back and do it again. It will never be as exciting as that first time, when the kids were young and so in awe of the tunnels. It was exciting for us too.

One year, we did this same ride with my brother, and my parents drove what we referred to as our chase vehicle. They dropped us off at the beginning and then they met us in a predetermined town for lunch. The kids were all late tween ages or early teens. After lunch my mom looked up at the sky and said “you guys may want to load the bikes back up, because it looked like it may storm.” Well we were not about to have driven all the way to Wisconsin and not ride the entire trail. Besides, we thought the rain may never come. So off we went onto the trail. Within the hour, the clouds were opening up on us raining cats and dogs, but worst of all the thunder and lighting was spectacular. The thunder seemed louder than normal, as it bounced off the sandstone cliffs along the trail and it sounded like the lightening was right above our heads. We continued on as we had no choice. The chase vehicle could not get anywhere near us in the country side, so we continued and met up with them at the end, as planned. My mom had that, “I told you so” look on her face and a big smile for us as we looked like drowned rats. We were soaked and we had mud going up our backs, because this trail is not paved. It is called a crushed rock trail and normally on a dry day, it feels almost paved, because of the way it is made, but on this rainy day it blew up yellow mud onto all of our backs and we were almost too dirty to enter the vehicle.

I am always glad we did not quit just because the rain was coming. That would not have been memorable or a good story at all. Instead we raged against the rain to make sure we finished the entire trail. We have never laughed so hard and had a better experience. We were totally soaked and while on the trail, we must have repeated that line from the movie Cady Shack a hundred times—“I don’t think the heavy stuff will come down for a while.” The kids still talk about us getting rained on and our adventure on the Elroy trail, and I think that although we did not know it at the time, it was a good lesson for the kids in not quitting. It was also a lesson in raging against the rain and in finishing what you start. None of those things were said, but as they say, actions speak louder than words. There would be no story at all had we quit. We would have been back at the hotel sooner and sitting in the pool. Instead we came to the hotel laughing and having to clean up after an ordeal. A fun ordeal, but none the less an ordeal. We had finished all 32 miles despite the rain and the lightening and we were stronger for it.

We have been back on that trail with that same brother and his wife and we actually camped for the weekend at a campground on the trail called the Tunnel campground. Our rain and lightening story got told often that weekend and my kids still tell it.

Now that we are empty nesters we have gone biking around Itasca State park with friends and stayed at a local Bed and Breakfast during the peak of the fall colors. That is a gorgeous ride. I would load my bike carrier with sandwiches and frozen water bottles (to keep them cool) and I would throw in a beer or two for our rest stop. When we biked around the entire park we would stop at Douglas lodge for real ice cream malts made by hand. It was something to look forward to. We did that Itasca trail with the kids and the cart when they were young as well. That one was a thigh killer, as it is anything but flat.

Our kids still like biking and so do we. I just recently had a hitch installed on my daughter Jenny’s Jeep, so she can carry her bike. She had requested it because she and her friend love biking, but need a way to carry them to the trails. As she was talking about needing the hitch for the bike rack, I could not help but be brought back in time with her riding in that cart behind Joe’s bike, and then later behind him on the tag-a-long. Even though she is now 20 years old and almost finished with college, I can see it clear as day, as if it were yesterday. It has been said often, but those years with the kids fly by. Make memories and teach fun. You will never regret the adventures you did together.

Fun Living

Stories by Joan Quade

Category: Reflecting