Sifting through the layers

I've been sifting through the layers
Of dusty books and faded papers
They tell a story I used to know
It was one that happened, so long ago

-Kate Wolf, "Across the Great Divide"

A lot has happened since my last post. Actually, that is an understatement. My life has taken an amazing, unexpected, and positive turn. I can't wait to share more details, but first I need to go back and work through some of the stuff I thought I was going to have so much solo time to reflect upon. Because, that context is necessary to begin to comprehend the present. And if I am going to move forward with blogging, I need to address some parts of the story that were never told. Part of why I have not blogged consistently in the past few years can be summed up in these words from a post in January 2015:

So maybe my lack of blogging frequency in recent years has been due to a feeling that I am not completely expressing the truth about my existence. I'm not telling outright lies, nor do I have the need to, but there are truths out there that I am not comfortable putting in words for everyone to see. Is there anyone who can't say that? 

For example, when I started this blog, I (rather pompously) considered myself a "homesteader"--you know, the self sufficient lifestyle, to various degrees. I even included the term in my blog description. But over the years, the term has lost its meaning to me and I no longer identify with it. To tell the ongoing story, of how we built our own house and all that, means leaving out some truths that don't fit that "homesteader" image. The human fallibility. The stuff I don't want others to see, mostly.

 When you are married to a person for 25 years, naturally you know that person in ways no one else can. You are not the child, the sibling, the coworker, the friend, the neighbor. You are the spouse, and your knowledge of this person is more intimate than anyone else's can be. That can be a good thing, or a bad thing. Or maybe there's no good and bad. It just is.

I thought long and hard about what I was going to say at the memorial service. In the end, I decided to play Minnesota Nice and talk about the good times. Because there were some, and some of the musical events we shared together probably opened up the door to being where I am today. Memorials are not exactly about honesty; we are all feeling a bit vulnerable and needing to protect each other's feelings. So it's "He was such a nice guy" rather than "That sonofabitch still owes me money!" But now that time is over and it is no longer my job to protect anyone's feelings. I need to be true to myself.

My happy little eulogy did not include much from the last 15 years. Because, we did not come here to Sand Creek out of some grand dream to live closer to the land. We came here because we were broke and had no other options. We had spent the last few years moving from state to state, chasing jobs. Just after my daughter was born, we left Minnesota and the home we had made for seven years, so he could accept a job with a conservation organization in Missouri. I left my job, my family, my friends, and a landscape I loved to be a stay at home mom to two toddlers in a strange city. With a touch of postpartum depression to boot. That did not go so well, so we moved back to Minnesota so I could work, but it somehow wasn't good enough...so a couple moves later, we were high on a hill overlooking Anderson Valley in Mendocino County, this time with me being a stay at home mom to three young kids, while he worked for a "sustainable living" center. Oh the irony...I could see so clearly that this was definitely unsustainable, while he talked about what a wonderful place that was.

So it was, in early November 2002, we arrived back to our 40 acres and cabin, still on contract for deed. No electricity, no running water, three kids, one just starting kindergarten, in a tiny cabin with winter setting in. I was exhausted, and looking back, probably suffering from PTSD. Definitely not feeling in control of my life, or that I even had a say. We survived, and just over two years later I began this blog in the winter of the owl irruption. I believe the owls had a message for me: Wake up and start using your voice. This blog may have been a life saver for me; I found my voice, found some friends who shared my love of nature and the outdoors, and realized just how lonely and isolated I had been...

This blog tells the story of how a house was built. And I am grateful for the foundation that was laid, the walls and timbers and blue steel roof, sturdy and warm. But somewhere along the way, his motivation slowed down, the ability to take small steps each day to get something done diminished. Medical issues had a lot to do with it; diabetes takes its toll mentally and physically. Emotionally, he was not the same man I once thought I knew. If that ever existed. And, I found it harder and harder to keep blogging about our life here, with so many parts of the story I could not tell. As my blogging diminished, I immersed myself in the busyness of work, kids' activities, and eventually, running, yoga, and music. Which all have saved me.

In the last couple of years, our marriage could be best described as a "peaceful coexistence". We were in much better shape financially, the kids were more independent, and I think we both moved beyond any bitterness from the past. We went to concerts, or just drove around looking at wildlife. We talked about going fishing some time. But a peaceful coexistence can be lonely, and it leaves so much unfulfilled. For the sake of my peace of mind, it was probably better that I did not know how much that even was.

Now you know the rest of the story...but not all of it. Some things will remain unwritten.

A new journey

It has been a little over a year since I declared "this blog is not over". And I had not posted since then. I guess I had been a bit unsure about what the "new direction" was going to be.

Sometimes, life events make that decision for you when you least expect it. My husband of 25 years, whom I referred to as "The Hermit" on this blog, died suddenly in his sleep in the early hours of Thursday, September 7. He was 62 years old.

The events of the night still feel as if it were a dream. Waking up, not to snoring, but to strange gasps and gurgling, then nothing. Knowing unquestionably that something was not right. Tapping and then hitting him. Calling 911. Attempting CPR on him in bed. Yelling for Joe to drive out to the end of the driveway to let responders know this was the place. Feeling a bit surprised at how calm I was. Sitting on the floor holding a confused Labrador while paramedics worked. Knowing, before they told me, that he was gone. They said he was probably already gone when I first noticed him unresponsive.

One of the fire department first responders happened to be a friend of mine. She sat with me while we waited for the funeral director to show up. I poured myself a glass of wine, then another. The funeral director happened to be one of Vinny and Joe's baseball coaches. Small town life, I would find out in the next few days, is pretty amazing.

The days between then and the memorial service on the 12th are a blur. Neighbors bringing food. My brother driving up from Minneapolis to talk, perhaps our first talk alone in years. Nina, who had just moved to North Dakota, coming home. Vinny taking time from his job to come home. My dad, aunt, and uncle hunkering down in Palm Coast, Florida for Hurricane Irma. My friend in Duluth asked if I would like to go to a Charlie Parr concert Thursday night. I did. The next night, a friend was playing at the coffeehouse where I play occasionally. I was surrounded by friends there. And Saturday night I already had bought tickets to see a Swedish music group, Jaerv, in Minneapolis. Nina went with me. Music is powerfully healing. In between music, family, and friends, I found myself sleeping late, walking around the house not knowing what to do and not really feeling like doing anything, making lists. And starting to write. Many hours thinking about what I was going to say.

The service was more well attended than I thought it would be. It was very informal, as Russ would have wanted it. His older daughter and his sister shared memories, and in between a friend of mine played songs we had chosen, by Greg Brown and Townes Van Zandt. Then I got up, still not knowing exactly what it was I was going to say. But the words flowed from nowhere, stories of how we met, his passion for the environment, and our trips to music festivals--how he gave me the gift of music when I may not have done it on my own.

After the service and all the people, I needed to be alone for a while. I drove down to a park on the banks of the Kettle River. My musician friend from the service was there. So were some other friends who had been at the service, I found out later. We all needed the peace of the river I guess. I found a secluded picnic table, drank a beer or two, and started writing the next chapter of my life.

No one is ever ready for this

Our community lost a good kid this week.

On Tuesday morning, Nina came into our room in tears. She said, "Something really bad happened last night. Colton Nelson was killed in a car accident."

Words to immediately stop normal life. Nothing, from this point out, will be normal. Shock. Pain. Grief. It is all there. Even if you did not know the kid. But I did.

He was Homecoming king. Played football, basketball, golf. (I'll forgive him for the last one. We could have used him in baseball.) Vinny grew up with him, went to school with him since kindergarten, and was a basketball teammate. I didn't know how close they were, but it turns out Colton was the kind of kid who had many friends. I don't know anyone who didn't like him.

We are a small school. Vinny's graduating class is around 30 something, although most younger classes have more students. But we are small enough, this news hit like a tidal wave. Everyone in the school knew Colton. And, everyone liked him. There was nothing not to like. He was a good person with a bright future. So why???

I don't know. But our small school community has an amazing ability to pull together. I saw it in a basketball game last night.

There was a basketball game scheduled against Pine City the day the news came out. That game will be played on Saturday. There was another game scheduled last night in Ogilvie. This game was nothing short of amazing.

To give some perspective, East Central (our team) is in the middle of the conference standings. We have lost some games we shouldn't have, and except for a couple matches, our losses have been close, well fought out games. My son Vinny has shown amazing ability as a 6'5 center. (shameless parent bragging) On the other hand, Ogilvie is a team that does its best with what it has. The town, population 369, is on the crossroads of Minnesota highways 23 and 47, on the way to somewhere but not quite there. They have the shortest outfield fences of any I have ever seen. And, they have a new basketball coach, and a team that lacks experience. Nevertheless, in their first match against East Central, they won by 4 points, but key EC players (including my son) were out sick.

Last night, though, was destined to be different. I don't know how many people from East Central showed up, but it was probably about 200. Ogilvie had about 75 including the pep band, which played in tune and was small but good.

There was a moment of silence before the National Anthem. Appropriate.

We (actually Vinny, center) got the tip off, and Traivon scored within three seconds. That set the tone. Although, the gym was kind of quiet during that first half. I think it took time for East Central fans to get out of a grieving mode, into a cheering mode.

We stood up when our score reached 24. That was Colton's number.

I actually felt kind of bad for Ogilvie. Here we were, claiming this game for Colton, and they had to deal with the fact that they could not compete with the spirit that drove our team that night. Nevertheless, they presented our team with a sign, signed by every student, expressing their condolences. Ogilvie now rates in my mind as the classiest other school in our conference.

The East Central Eagles played like I have never seen them before. They had a purpose, and an energy. This season they have struggled with internal things, like most teams; players have quit, and others have had issues. But last night it seems they forgot all that. They played for the joy of playing, for the first time I have seen all season. They played for Colton. And Colton was there, the sixth Eagle on the court.

East Central ended up winning, 73-35. Vinny scored 14 points, if I did not lose count. Usually after the end of a high school ballgame, the crowd disperses quickly. But, while the Ogilvie fans filed out, no one from East Central was ready to leave.

(Photo by Lizzy Swanson)

We formed a large prayer circle. A student, accompanied by Hana, Colton's girlfriend, led us in prayer. It was perhaps one of the most profound, beautiful, tragic things I have ever experienced.

The energy at that basketball game moved me. It took a tragedy to get that going, but yet it was there. Somehow, I believe in people.

#24 forever

Where the rivers freeze and the summer ends

The winter of 2013-2014 has, by all accounts, been brutal. I am proud to be a Minnesotan, and I take a certain sinister pleasure in hearing weather reports from states on the Eastern Seaboard, where six inches of snow and 10 degrees above zero is considered a "snowpocalypse". We Minnesotans are winter tough. The city of International Falls regularly reports the lowest temperatures in the nation. But this winter has been unusually relentless. I hear it is the second coldest winter on record in Duluth, MN. And that is from a city that has seen its share of cold.

It started in early December, the day I finally bought a car for Vinny, a 2010 Ford Fusion with high highway miles but in beautiful shape. We had decided the 1990 F150 pickup had too many things that needed fixing, and gas mileage was not acceptable. The day after we signed the papers and brought it home, it snowed. So much snow that both of our cars got stuck in the driveway coming home.

Then it got cold. Seriously, bone chilling, 30 below zero cold. We got the cars dug out, and paid $85 for having the driveway plowed. Too much snow for our 4 wheeler with plow attachment. We realized the recent delivery of wood was comprised of mostly birch. Any Minnesotan or New Englander will tell you that, while birch is great for starting a fire, it burns hot and fast and does not have the staying power of oak or maple. Still, it is wood and it is heat, so that's a good thing.

Still, we use propane to heat the cabin. A very inefficient setup, but we like having that space. I bought 250 gallons in early November. Right after New Year's, the tank was at about 5 percent, and we called for an emergency weekend delivery. When I saw the bill, I was floored. $2.29 a gallon, plus a $100 "off hours" charge. Luckily I have credit with the company, and did not have to pay it in cash.

That seems like a bargain now, with prices above $4 per gallon and rising daily. The Midwest, for various reasons, is in a propane supply crisis. If the tank had not run low when it did, the 300 gallons would have cost us twice as much. And that is for "luxury" heat. We could close up the cabin and have everything, including the Xbox, in the house where the wood stove is. But for now, we're good, but if the propane runs out, I will not buy more.

We will get through it, and spring will come. And I have many more stories to tell

Three reminders

Life has gone by fast lately. It seems the last four or five years have been nothing but a blur. There have been good times, that's for sure, but they seem to get lost in the whirl of day to day living.

But, in the last few weeks, I have found some remembrances of an earlier life. The kids were very young, I was probably in a state of perpetual confusion, but each one of them gave me their own views on life, words that kept me going even when I thought i did not even know myself.

Vinny- When he was in his twos and we had recently moved to Missouri for a job The Hermit took, I found myself floundering in depression, from living far away from family, from moving away from the life we'd built early in our marriage, and maybe some postpartum depression after giving birth to Nina. She was, by the way, a very challenging infant. Which will probably explain the quote from her.

in the midst of all this, I had an extremely intelligent and perceptive two year old son, who took it all in stride. One night when I was not at my best, he took one of those drawing tablets they have, the plastic ones where you draw things with a stylus and it can be erased wi a swipe. He drew a spider. An oval, eight legs radiating from it like sunbeams, and a smile on its face.

"I drew you a 'pider, Mom. I hope it makes you happy."

Oh Vinny, if you only knew. That spider probably saved me.

Now on to Nina, or as she was known in her infant years, Nina Sirena. She could grab your attention and drive babysitters to insanity. She was an independent gal from the start. When she was about the same age as Vinny was when he drew the sweet spider, I was trying to tell her to do something one day. I don't remember what it was. Anyway, she looked at me thoughtfully and said, "It's not MINE purpose. It's YOURS purpose!"

wow.

I did not expect that to kick in until the teenage years. And now that she is a teenager, well almost, it is kind of a relief that she got that out of her system early. We are pretty good at talking things out and negotiating.

And as for Joe, well, I have a photo of him, an analog, physical copy that I need to scan one of these days. In it, he is about two years old (why are all these stories seeming to converge on the Terrible Twos?), and he has a very thoughtful look on his face. His finger is crooked at the corner of his mouth, adding to the drama. "What shall I do next?" I wish I had it scanned now, so you could see the mischief on his face. It was about this same time in his life that he left a DeWalt lamp on the bed, face down turned on, and nearly burned the cabin down. The wool blanket saved us.

Three reminders, that, while I was going through times in my life that I thought were pretty tough, three reminders of what I was living for, and what kept me going.

dreaming of a brown Christmas

Has it been over a month already since I've posted? 2011 will certainly not go down as a big blogging year for me. Yes, I'm still thinking of ideas for blog posts all the time, and there is always something interesting going on here to write about. But then there's this big disconnect between experiencing something, forming the words to describe it, getting to a medium where I can jot those words down for later use, and actually sitting down at the computer and connecting with Blogger. I've been going through my archives, and from what I see there it didn't used to be this difficult. Of course back then I didn't have teenage kids monopolizing the computer, and I didn't have Facebook for those moments I would have jotted down a quick blog post just to let the world know something.

This morning I have the computer to myself, finally. I stayed home from work with a bit of a sore throat and cold, just enough that work would have been somewhat miserable. I'm kind of glad to have a "me" day. The Hermit was out of town all last week, and between tending the wood stove and driving to various kids' activities, I didn't have much spare time. Fortunately the weather was very mild for December, even though some of the days were dark and gray, so heating was not a major issue. This has been one of the mildest Decembers I can remember, and what little snow we have has come an inch or so at a time. That means occasionally conditions on the pond have been perfect for ice skating, something I did not get to enjoy last year.

Christmas spirit is running at perhaps an all time high this year. Vinny found a very nice balsam fir on our property, and took it upon himself to cut it, bring it inside, and set it up by himself. Nina and Joe joined in for the decorating. I decided to make up for all the years I thought about making Christmas cookies but didn't get any further than that. Three batches done so far, about eight to go.

Brewing is also being done at the rate of about one five gallon batch a week. You'd think I'd have a lot of beer sitting around ready for consumption at that rate, but oddly enough it seems to disappear as soon as it has sat in bottles long enough to build carbonation.

Here's Frisky, official mascot of "Sixteen Pound Siamese Brewery", overseeing the transfer of a wheat beer from fermenter to carboy.

That's the news from Sand Creek for now. Come to think of it, it feels pretty good to be blogging again. I'll be back soon.

fall is happening

And I am doing my best to stay awake for it. Life seems more hectic here than ever; I haven't even had the time to stop at my refuge, Banning State Park, for over a week. These are photos from my last visit there, and my, things have changed in a few days.

It has been unseasonably warm and very dry here. The fall colors are beautiful, but I enjoy them more on a crisp, cool day.

My life mostly revolves around driving to work, and driving my kids to and from sports. My 2006 Subaru Outback just hit the 100,000 mile mark two days ago, which is not out of the question considering we live 15 miles from school and 30 miles from my job, but still it is a sobering reminder that I am, for now, dependent on driving. I love these fall days, but sometimes I wish the progression of the seasons, and the events in my life, would just slow down for once so I could enjoy them a little.

I mean, how in the heck did my kids end up so old already? :)

september

I have been easing back in to the routine of kids going to school, and me picking kids up from various activities. Vinny decided to play football after all, and Nina is playing volleyball, so after I get off work at 4:30 I usually end up doing errands and then waiting until about 6 when they are done with practice. When the weather is nice, and there are no games to watch, I've been spending my time at Banning State Park, which surrounds the school grounds. This has become one of my favorite places. The Kettle River cuts through a sandstone gorge, creating amazing rock formations. I like to walk down by the river, or sometimes I find a rock outcrop high above the river and I sit and read, write, or just unwind. I would hesitate to call what I do meditation, although I am trying to learn meditation and make it a part of my life. Life is just so noisy, so chaotic, sometimes I need to quiet the thoughts that keep racing around in my mind. The river, with its constant rushing and tumbling on rocks, helps.

summertime...

It is a Sunday afternoon, as lazy as Sunday afternoons get. In a rare stretch of time, I have the house/cabin/40 acre compound to myself (not counting dogs, cats, rabbits, and chickens). Vinny and Nina are both away for the weekend, camping with friends, and The Hermit and Joe headed to town to get away for a while. I can never get enough of being home, so I declined to accompany them.

Actually, I may be home for an extended weekend of indefinite length. The State of Minnesota is shut down, and I am in temporary layoff status since Friday. No new budget talks will happen until at least Tuesday, so Wednesday would be the earliest day for me to report back to work. I don't mind having a couple days off without pay; I'm enjoying relaxing around the house, getting a few things done. And realistically I don't think the shutdown can continue for more than a few days without serious consequences: the state is losing money, state parks and rest areas are closed, and vital services are not being provided. I didn't even think it would come to this, but the Republican leadership in the state legislature was not willing to negotiate in good faith. I had a lot of admiration for Democrat Governor Mark Dayton when I voted, and I have even more admiration for him now for sticking to his principles of doing what's best for the people of Minnesota.

I would say more, but I don't want to go there on this beautiful afternoon. This too shall pass. I hope to spend some of my free time writing, playing music, trying new recipes, and living in balance. This morning I went for a 4.4 mile run, and while the last mile or so was not feeling so good, it was all worth it when I jumped into the cool waters of the pond at the end. It was like instant euphoria in every cell of my body. I'm still walking on air it seems. 

wintery weekend

It's been the kind of Sunday morning I enjoy most, waking up slowly, drinking coffee and reading and watching birds, making a breakfast of blueberry pancakes with locally processed maple syrup, and later playing some Irish tunes on flute. The birds have been very active this weekend--this morning I had two hairy woodpeckers, two downy woodpeckers, and one pileated! They're attacking the suet cake I have hanging from the birch tree in front of the house. Sorry no pictures--I can't find a pair of AA batteries for the regular camera, and my iPhone camera doesn't zoom.

The iPhone camera is nice for times like Friday afternoon when I took a few hours off work to go cross country skiing at a local state park. (Sorry for the blurriness; I emailed this to myself at low resolution). The trails were in great condition with two inches of fresh fluffy snow that was still falling. The trails were in better condition than me or my skis, which are in need of glide wax. Nevertheless I had a great time and enjoyed the scenery and the roar of the Kettle River rapids.

Apres ski, I went across the road to the school for Starflower's basketball game, then endured a slow crawl up I-35 fifteen miles in increasing snow for Calvin's game. Traffic was moving slowly, which was appropriate for tthe conditions, but I was getting nervous because my oil light was starting to flicker on. I made it to Willow River and purchased two quarts of oil. My Subaru is experiencing an oil leak that threatens to rival BP's. Appointment tomorrow at the dealership in Duluth; hopefully it's not a big thing.

The Willow River game is fun because Calvin played with these guys, including a best buddy of his, two years ago on a sixth grade traveling team. Funny, they all seem to have grown a foot in height! Here is Calvin shooting a free throw. His team ended up losing, although they fought long and hard.

It's the time of year when I start mulling over seed catalogs, planning my strategy for the growing season. Hopefully I'll get a chance to post about my plans soon.

one week into the new year...

I've been thinking about time a lot lately. Or, more specifically, the lack of free time I seem to be experiencing, and the discombobulated state of mind that results. Not to mention the lack of blog posts. I still have a lot to say, but in order to blog I need to sit down in front of the computer, the real computer, not the iPhone, and ideally have some peace and quiet while I compose my thoughts. The computer is still located in the cabin, which is not a bad place for it. When I came out to the cabin twenty minutes ago I had it to myself. Now three boys are here playing video games while The Hermit decided now was the perfect moment to pick up a month's worth of cans and trash from all around (This is a man cave, after all, and I DON'T clean here.) We are still configuring the wi-fi signal so it reaches the house consistently, and I suppose when that happens I could learn how to type faster and write real posts on my iPhone.

I have decided that once in a while, a woman just needs to treat herself to a hair appointment. I had a particularly bad hair day Wednesday, thanks to our hard water and dry wood stove air. I took one look in the mirror and saw a flat, unflattering, overgrown hair style with dirty highlights and frizzy grays springing up here and there. I know, I've earned them, but still...so I got on the phone and made an appointment for this morning. I walked in saying "I'm open to suggestions..." which is a pretty bold move for me.

The results: LOVE it! It seemed at times she was randomly swiping a razor at my hair, but my hair now has shape to it. The color reminds me of photos of me at about 4 or 5 years old, when I actually had a tinge of red in the color mix. Most importantly, it makes me feel good. More youthful, maybe. Does that make me a shallow person? I don't think so.

In other business, I watched Calvin play in a very exciting eighth grade basketball game on Thursday. I don't particularly like watching basketball, but this game had me on the edge of my seat. The score was never more than four points in favor of either team, and both teams were playing hard and fast. With minutes remaining, the score started to favor Calvin's team, and they held on to it for a 41-37 victory! Starflower had two games this week, and the schedule looks busy right through mid February.

Mr. Attitude has been spotting lots of ruffed grouse (he calls them "partridge") eating buds in the trees at dusk. The redpolls are finally starting to show up at the feeders, and there are still large flocks of goldfinches. And of course, chickadees.

Today's afternoon includes some general housekeeping, possibly taking the Christmas tree down, and maybe, just maybe, some music.

Saturday evening musings

I'm sitting here in the cabin, where the computer is located, watching a Lawrence Welk public TV pledge special. How nerdy is that? Actually, Lawrence Welk brings back warm fuzzy memories of evenings at my grandparents' house. There was an innocence and earnestness about those shows, along with a healthy dose of corniness, that sticks with me.

I've been kind of floundering this week, re-adjusting to having free time in the evenings again. Being in "Hello, Dolly!" with Starflower was a good experience. I'll never forget the energy the cast brought together, and the feeling of performing a quality show for local audiences. That's what I love about community theater- it's one thing to pay exorbitant prices for tickets to a traveling Broadway show, but a totally different, wonderful thing to see people you see regularly show their hidden talents and bring a Lawrence Welk-type earnestness to every show. That said, I don't know if I'll do it again. It's a huge time commitment, I have a few other musical projects I might rather work on, and it would have to be a show I really like. Please, Ms. Director, don't even consider "The Music Man!"

So I'm coming off that, the darkest part of winter is upon us (well, not the darkest yet, but the month leading up to the darkest day is pretty dreary), and for some reason my mind has been cluttered with random thoughts. I've found it hard to focus on anything lately. I've tried to remedy that by starting to do yoga, but so far whenever I get near the yoga mat I have three cats and a dog wanting to get in on the action. That, and I can't figure out how to hook up the Blu Ray player and there are no batteries in the remote so I haven't been able to watch a yoga DVD. So today I did probably a better thing...I went for a walk outdoors. The air was crisp, and a dusting of freshly fallen snow sparkled in the sunlight. I went out to the pond first, which had several inches of ice, enough to walk on. There was some slush above the ice on part of the pond though, so I'm going to wait a week or so and hopefully it will freeze enough to shovel for skating. Then I walked along a ridge which used to be the edge of a gravel pit in the 1930's. I saw lots of deer and rabbit tracks, and even a few snow free spots where the deer had bedded down for the night. I followed the old main railroad grade back to the railroad siding which leads back to the cabin. I noticed a lot of fallen trees since I had last walked that way; our big wind storm in late October may have brought down some dead and/or dying wood.

I came out of the woods with a new sense of clarity. Not completely clear, but it was what I needed to get back into living on this late November day.

winter is here

I spent the morning taking care of unfinished summer business while the snow fell, like bailing water out of a canoe and kayak and turning them over on shore. I guess this is to be expected for this time of year, but last week's 60 degree weather had me thinking there would be more time.

This is going to be a busy week. Dress rehearsal for "Hello Dolly" is tomorrow evening, complete run-through rehearsals on Monday and Tuesday, and a morning performance for the elementary school on Wednesday. Then evening performances Thursday-Saturday, and a matinee on Sunday. So unless I find something really unusual to blog about, see you a week from tomorrow!

Well! It's about time for an update!

Has it really been over two weeks since my last post? Life has been THAT busy. Between the normal work busy-ness, Calvin's football games, Starflower's volleyball games, Mr. Attitude's piano lessons, play rehearsals that sometimes last until 10 pm, and a weekend trip to Nebraska, I have hardly had time to breathe. But for me, that's a good thing. Sometimes I have a tendency to get mired in stillness and reflection. In a month, after the final curtain call, I will have more than enough time to sit in front of the wood stove and contemplate life. Hopefully I'll have the energy at night to pick up a musical instrument and do what I love.

We had a wonderful, if all too short, trip to Lincoln, Nebraska for my stepdaughter Sarah's wedding two weeks ago. It was fun to be "on the road again", fun to see my extended family all there, and fun to have a reason to get dressed up and curl my hair! Lincoln seems like a nice city, and I hope to visit there again when I have more time to see the area.

When we returned home all road weary at 9 pm that Sunday, I went out to the well to get a jug of drinking water. When I turned on the faucet, nothing happened. No water, no pump turning on, nothing. The Hermit and I drove that shallow sand point well by ourselves about fifteen years ago when this place was just our weekend getaway. It originally had a hand pump, but when we moved here nearly eight years ago we installed an electric pump and pressure tank, which were run by generator power until we got electricity. The well had given us years of reliable, clear water, but in the last couple of weeks something had changed. The pump would no longer hold its prime, and the water had sediment in it. I don't know exactly what happened, but it was a bit disconcerting, to say the least, to suddenly be without a source of water.

Our plan had always been to drive a new shallow well in the 8 x 8 basement in the house. The Hermit and a neighbor worked on it this summer without success; funny how water can be about 12 feet down by the cabin, but not by the house 200 feet away. But I think The Hermit shares my feelings of having had enough of this do-it-yourself-ness. We wanted water, and we wanted it now. So we borrowed some money from my dad, and had a well professionally drilled. With the economy as it is, the guy was available to come out and drill just two days after we called, on a Friday, and the water line to the house was completed the following Monday. We now have running water in the house, even if it is only a hose with a valve on the end. It makes all the difference!

It turns out we are sitting on a dream of an aquifer. Just 37 feet below the surface, in sandstone bedrock, the water flows at over 40 gallons per minute. If we lived just a mile to the south or east, across the Douglas Fault, the bedrock would be basalt and water would perhaps be much further down. There are no sources of pollution that I know of in our watershed, and the water is crystal clear.

I can't wait to get the plumbing finished, and water heater up and running! No more hillbilly showers! 

When the guy came with the backhoe to dig the water line to the house, he smoothed out a lot of the back yard. Starflower is contemplating a regulation-sized volleyball court there next summer. I'm all for it; from what I saw in her games, she has a lot of potential as a player. Her middle school team consisted of all sixth graders with little or no experience, yet they held their own and even won a few matches.

Here's Calvin, who is now officially as tall as me (5'7). He lives for football and pep band (and X box). He will be traveling to New York City in March for the St. Patrick's Day parade--our small town marching band was selected, the first band from Minnesota in many years! But today he was doing a necessary chore, hauling wood from the big pile out front to the house. We had our first fire in the wood stove a week ago, and while the fall has been mild, I know cold weather will come soon.

I have survived the first month of rehearsals for "Hello, Dolly!" It has been a lot more fun than I expected, mainly because of the people involved. I have made new friends and reconnected with a couple old friends. I have a new appreciation for all of the work that goes into a theatrical production. My favorite part is singing; just the other night I was very tired and not wanting to go to rehearsal, but after a few minutes of singing I found a new energy, and I was hitting all the high notes and getting into the whole stage character thing. But, for the time commitment reason, I won't be sad when it's over.

So there you have it. I didn't get to certain things, like my garden harvest, but I have the next two days free, so...

Real tomato ketchup, Eddie?

I could write about the wonderful fall colors that are quickly disappearing. I could even take some photos. I could write about the beautiful weather we're having, how we've gone nearly two weeks without rain (which, by the way, is a good thing). I could write about the multitude of green tomatoes I harvested nearly two weeks ago before the first big frost hit, which have been sitting on a table top in the entry way and have now suddenly decided to ripen, the day before we leave for Nebraska to attend The Hermit's daughter's wedding. That's right, I'm actually crossing state lines, and not just a quick foray into Wisconsin, which doesn't really count. I don't remember the last time I have been so far from home!

But, speaking of tomatoes, I wanted to share a culinary discovery I made last night. Of course I most likely did not discover it, there are probably a million recipes out there on the Internet, but I thought it was pretty cool. As I was preparing our baseball playoff celebratory meal (Go Twins!) of hot dogs, I suddenly realized we were almost OUT OF KETCHUP! Surrounded by ripe tomatoes, but no ketchup! I can stand a hot dog with mustard only, but when you're watching baseball it just ain't right.

While I was weighing the options, the least appealing of which was driving ten miles to the store, I recalled that I usually keep a small can of tomato paste in the pantry. Hmmm....What is ketchup, but tomato paste plus a few other flavorings? Using the ingredient list from the near-empty bottle of Annie's organic ketchup as my guide, I started mixing. A little vinegar here, a little Worcestershire sauce there, onion powder...Voila! Ketchup! I don't have an exact recipe to share, but those are the essential ingredients. Most commercial ketchups contain a lot more sugar or high fructose corn syrup than they actually need; I added a tiny pinch of sugar but it would have been fine without.

I don't have a laptop so I won't be blogging from the road, but maybe I'll have some time to compose some rough drafts with pen and paper. Have a great weekend!

my newest adventure- musical theater!

I was never a theater person in high school. When you're in a graduating class of 600+, activities like "sports", "band", "drama", and "industrial arts" quickly get allocated to those students who claim them first and make their mark, and there is not the opportunity for everyone like there is in a small, rural school district. Like where I live now.

I was a "band" person, and I was happy with that. I also dabbled in cross country and cross country skiing, but I made my mark in band. Not to brag, but I was voted "Outstanding Senior Band Member" the year I graduated. Okay, so I was bragging a bit there.

Anyway, I never had the desire to get into theatrical productions. Nor did I have the encouragement. I was just a shy teenager, with at least the encouragement that I was good at playing the flute.

Fast forward 25+ years. I know I have an aptitude for music, I have a desire to become more involved in the community, and...Starflower expressed an interest in trying out for our local school/community production of "Hello Dolly" this fall. So what did I do? At first I wanted to be in the orchestra, but I found out they had two flute players last year, and only one of every other instrument, so my services would probably not be needed. But, I thought, if I would be driving Starflower to late night rehearsals, I might as well be involved onstage! So I auditioned, and Starflower and I got parts in the chorus.

The theater bug is getting to me. I am mildly obsessed with the musical parts I am singing, getting the parts embedded in my head, and I actually look forward to learning choreography and everything else that goes with a stage production. So we'll see how it goes, and if nothing else, I'll emerge as a better singer!

here's the problem

I've been trying to fix this header photo thing for a couple days now. Whenever I upload a header photo, no matter what the original size, it is automatically scaled to 300 pixels wide! Anyone have any ideas?

UPDATE: I have found a way around it. I just have to make sure the original photo is 920 pixels wide, no more, no less, and be sure to uncheck the "shrink to fit" box. For some reason "shrink to fit" is shrinking the original photo to 300 pixels, not 920. Ahh, Blogger...But, I get what I pay for. And it's still a bargain!

By the way, the new header photo is actually an old one, taken in September 2007 at one of my favorite places, Banning State Park. Our school is just across the road from the entrance to the park; in fact, the school's land is pretty much surrounded by park land. The cross country team practices on the park trails. I recently purchased a new parking sticker for $25 so I can go to the park while waiting for kids to be done with football AND volleyball practice. That's right. Starflower is now on the junior high volleyball team! She's in sixth grade, and they need all the players they can get so they allow sixth graders to play. They won their first match Thursday afternoon against my mom's alma mater.

Things just keep getting busier and busier...

tales from the river

It was an interesting day at work, so interesting I would rather post it here than on Facebook...where I already have an interesting status for the day...let's just say my daughter and I will be testing our wings in local musical theater...

Anyway, rain was predicted, so we headed to the closest electrofishing sampling station, which happened to be full of fifteen pound carp. I absolutely refuse to suffer a work related injury bringing these things into the boat; I'm too old for heroics. So I did more of a graceful dance with them, and somehow it all worked out.

We decided we had enough time to go down river and sample another station. The access for this one was barely a dirt track down to the riverbank, which was not sloped for convenience. We got in okay, and actually saw some amazing fish, including several 18" smallmouth bass, before rain shut us out.

Perhaps we should have exercised some judgment in launching. After all, there had been a half inch of rain in the area the night before, and the ground was kind of soggy. But since this is not really my project, I went along with the decisions of the crew leader. In this case, that led us to backing a heavy boat and trailer down into a place where it was not immediately possible to get the whole rig up over the river bank and out of the water again. Not to mention, there were mosquitoes. Lots of them.

After an hour and a half, and lots of ideas, and lots of mosquitoes, we got the trailer and boat out of the water with minimal damage. We arrived at work about ten minutes after quitting time. I was about seven miles away from home when I got the cell phone call: "Mom, are you going to pick me up at Kenna's house? We have sixth grade orientation tonight!" So I turned around, so close to home but yet so far and still reeking of fish slime, and brought Starflower to her orientation and taught her how to open her locker and all that. We arrived at home, long enough for me to cook a quick spaghetti dinner, before I had to drive back to school to pick up Calvin from his day at the Minnesota State Fair with the marching band. Whew.

Tomorrow is school clothes shopping. The adventure never ends!

life is full of twists and turns

I've been in a state of disbelief for the last 24 hours. Remember the girl down the road whom I ended up giving rides to school last winter? Her mom passed away last week. I don't know any more details. I didn't even know until last night, when Starflower wanted to spend the night with the girl at her grandparents' house, which is about a mile away from us. I was wondering why this girl was staying at her grandparents' house with her uncle. So I drove over there to check things out, and learned the sad news.

It's a double whammy. Her uncle was there because her grandparents were at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester; grandpa undergoing medical tests.

I don't know what's in the future for this girl and her sixteen year old sister. All I know is, I feel compelled to help out any way I can.

By the way, the mom was my age. Even had the same name: Deborah Ann.

now, this is LIVING

I just returned home from a wonderful weekend away from home. The Hermit, kids and I packed up our new 1968 camping trailer and the Suburban (yeah I know, gas guzzler but it is really the ultimate family truckster) and headed about a hundred miles southwest to a beautiful campground on the shores of a central Minnesota lake. This campground was the site of the Minnesota Bluegrass and Old Time Music Association's annual Homegrown Kickoff Festival. (Kickoff meaning, the beginning of summer and the music festival season around here) This festival features all local acts representing the best in bluegrass and old time music in the region.

I was in a band that performed at this same festival, different location, eleven years ago. It seems almost unreal to say this. To think I was actually in a bluegrass band, singing lead vocals on a couple of songs that I taught to the band. But then we moved to another state, the couple that formed the heart of the band broke up, and that was that.

Enough about the past. I'm writing to tell about how I had an absolutely wonderful time in the almost 48 hours we were at the festival. It was not nearly long enough. We arrived Friday afternoon, after much packing and all the worry that accompanies a family camping trip, when you have not done anything like it in years. But we got the trailer in place, set up camp, cooked dinner, and gradually relaxed. I started having a musical itch, and walked around for a while after dark looking for a music jam I could fit in with. But being inexperienced and rather shy at this kind of thing, I returned to our family campsite with unfulfilled musical urges. It had been way too long since I had done this festival thing, walking up to a bunch of strangers playing music and jumping in.

It turns out I was just walking around the wrong part of the campground, and the best music was within earshot of our camp site. The next morning, as I was returning from the bath/shower house located near our site, I ran into an old friend of mine, Dick Kimmel, a very accomplished bluegrass musician who happened to be camped out less than a hundred yards away from us. His RV was parked next to Lloyd LaPlant's RV; Lloyd built my mandolin, and he is about as nice of a person as there is. I walked over there with my mandolin that morning, into a music jam already in full swing. I was welcomed, and I overcame whatever nerves I had and joined in.

It was the best thing ever, musically, for me. At the start I had a hard time even moving my fingers to find the right chords, but about an hour later I was amazing myself that I could actually play solos! All I needed was to get together with other people.

The kids had a blast. There were several families camped nearby with kids, and they played wiffleball and soccer together. It rained Saturday into the mid afternoon, so Calvin discovered the fun of playing X box video games on the 19" flat screen TV in the camper. (The Hermit is fully responsible for this, not me!!!) And the kids made numerous trips to the beach.

Saturday evening, after 24 hours of being there, I was overcome with a feeling of absolute happiness. All the nervousness about making this trip had disappeared, I had reconnected with some old friends and played music, just as I had hoped I would, the family was having a good time, the camper trailer was working out okay, and I was reclining in my new super lounge chair with a cold beer. I was even seeing some good birds: catbirds, phoebes and pileated woodpeckers around the camp site, and the pair of loons on the lake had two babies.

Sunday before we left, I played music again with my friend and a few other good musicians. As I was leaving the jam, Lloyd came up to me and said "You're sounding great on that mandolin!" Coming from him, that is a compliment I will cherish. And I believe it. I sounded better than ever, and it was just the effect of playing with other people. I am more ready and willing now to seek out every opportunity to play music. Aside from my family, music is what I live for.

But this isn't all about me. This is about my family, finally going out and doing fun things and living life in the moment! It's about letting go and living. And we had not done nearly enough of that for the last few years. Now I know we will.