On the Banks of Minnehaha Creek

Need I Say More?

2009-01-01T01:23:00.002-06:00

1st Halloween

2008-11-01T20:07:00.006-05:00

The penguin costume (with legs) won out over the caterpillar (bunting) costume due to ease of transport. And of course, utter cuteness.
Frozee Josie.
A very tired (and long-legged) penguin. The funny tail was a costume selling point.

Our Big Big Girl + Knits for our Purl

2008-10-21T21:47:00.007-05:00

Mmmmm. Delicious chewy giraffe.
I have mentioned before that Josie is a big strong girl for her age. In fact, at almost 5 months she is wearing mostly 12-18 month clothing (in part because the cloth diapers add some junk to her trunk, but mostly because they fit!) Last night we had a visit from Josie's good friend Baby MoMo and her big brother, Ducky. As they sat together on the couch I was once again struck by the disparity in their sizes. (Keep in mind, MoMo is a week older than Josie, and was a pound lighter when she was born.)

Sweet babies.
Pattycake?
–
When Noonie came to visit awhile back, she made a charming hat and thumbless mittens for Josie out of beautiful variegated merino wool yarn. At the time, the weather was still quite sultry, so the lovely knits were displayed, unworn, on the shelf in Josie's room. The time has come, however, to layer up, and the other day I prevailed upon Josie to model them. She was surprisingly obliging. Thanks again, GA Noonie!

Josephine, Queen of the Bumbo.
I love the pointy elf top!
Bonus Picture: Josie wearing the Elizabeth Zimmermann Baby Surprise sweater that Noonie made as a shower gift. What great colors!

(She is) My Sunshine

2008-10-12T20:13:00.002-05:00

Then
Every so often (usually in the presence of a new baby) Mom will remark that she remembers when I was so little that she could hold me against her shoulder and my bottom would be above chest level (this is always accompanied by the same cradling hand gestures: See, this small...) Before Josie was born, I really didn't appreciate how fleeting that time of fragility and just plain NEWness actually is. At 4.5 months, it's long gone. Oh, it may linger longer for some people–Baby MoMo, who is a week older than Josie, (or Baby JoJo as Ducky calls her) is a feather of a baby–but with a 5'10" Mama and a 6'5" Papa, I suspect dainty peanutry is not in Josie's genetic cards. What she does seem to have inherited, besides being the first sip of what I suspect will be a long tall drink of water, is a cheery outlook and an easy sense of humor. We joke that she is the poster child for procreation because she's such a smiley baby that she makes our childless friends re-think their lifestyles. As I write this she is hanging out in her exersaucer and cooing and giggling at me.

Last week the weather was lovely, so Josie and I walked over to Minnehaha Falls park, and she got to try out a swing for the first time, which she seemed to enjoy.

Now

Rainy Thursday

2008-09-11T10:40:00.003-05:00

Josie the observer.
It would have been really easy to sleep in this morning. It was so gray when we woke up that I had to check the clock to know what time it was. Now, a couple hours later, a chilly rain is falling steadily, stalling any plans I had to run errands or walk around the lake. Josie and I are cuddled in the recliner, cozy in fleece and denim, and through the open window, past the hiss and trickle of water on the roof and in the gutters, I can hear that the neighbor's four year old is melting down again. Possibly he's sad at not being able to play outside, or wanted a cupcake rather than sliced apple for snack? Maybe his baby sister just looked at him wrong. He's a touchy one, that kid. I glance down at Josephine, beatifically nursing, and think to myself that she will, of course, be a laid-back toddler, just as she is an affable baby. And then I think that I'm deluding myself: all kids go through a random-tantrum stage. Wind lifts the roller shade on the window next to our chair–I can smell the dampness outside. It reminds me of England, which, in turn, makes me want a nice hot cup of tea. Guess it's not summer anymore.

Driving Miss Josie–3 Months!

2008-08-23T23:18:00.020-05:00

Josie has been making the rounds again, and catching a lot of live music. Highlights of the past few weeks include a Mother Banjo/ Carrie Elkin house concert at Ellen's, cousin Mason's christening, (which included a huge schmeckle-fest with Noona, who visited for several days), Josie's first trip to the Minnesota State Fair and a Mother Banjo/ Jaspar Lepak concert at the Lake Harriet Bandshell. At the fair Josie caught the Brass Kings, Becky Schlegel, and the first three songs of Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. I have some video on my phone of Josie kicking her feet in delight at the Brass Kings show, but it's pretty poorly lit, so I don't think it will get posted here. Enjoy, instead, these pix of Josie and her adoring public.

Josie with Mother Banjo and Carrie Elkin.

Operation "Universal Adoration" is go.

Avoiding rickets at Minnehaha Falls.

Admiring Tamar's lovely summer frock at the Lake Harriet bandshell.

9 Weeks

2008-08-05T00:26:00.006-05:00

We went to Josie's 2 month check up last Thursday, and everything appears to be going well. At 12 lbs, 15 oz, she is in the 93rd percentile for weight, and her length, 23 1/4", puts her in the 83rd percentile for height. The Doctor also remarked that Josie seems very strong, as she can hold her head up for long periods of time, and likes to "stand". In celebration of her excellent progress, I dressed her in the dragon suit we bought at the ECFE garage sale this spring before she was born (which she will surely outgrow any second now!)

Super cute in the dragon suit.
We have been getting out a lot lately, and on Saturday ventured to Amery, Wisconsin, where Josie met her Great Grandma Renee for the first time, as well as a handful of Great Aunts, three regular Aunts, and a passel of cousins. We had a nice time.

Cuddling with Great Aunt Marcia.

Fast asleep in Aunt Anna's arms.

Then, on Sunday we brunched with friends in St. Paul, and Miss Josephine got to meet M and Zetty, who showered her with loving attention, much to her, their, and our delight.

Zetty and M audition for future babysitting gigs.

The Illusive Smile

2008-07-25T18:59:00.004-05:00

I've mentioned that Josie had started smiling at us, but have yet to take a photo that shows her new expression in all its glory. These pix still fall short, but there are a couple that are close...

One out of two isn't bad.
You want me to do what?
Cheery eyes? Check. Happy nose? Check. Smiley mouth? Um...
Almost!
Big Foot, Nessie, Smiling Josie...out of focus pictures of great import.

Sunday at Sea Salt

2008-07-14T21:31:00.003-05:00

As a celebration of the beautiful weather, the WDSRN crew met for a late lunch at Sea Salt, the seafood cafe at Minnehaha Falls park. It was a lovely outing: great food, great friends...really a quintessential lazy Sunday.

Honorary Auntie Pam and Josie share a moment.
Ellen makes an earnest point.
Jason is delighted to give Josie a snuggle.

6 Weeks Old

2008-07-13T20:25:00.007-05:00

6 weeks!
Josie is six weeks (and 1 day) old! New developments include smiling (at us, rather than just randomly) and, slightly less enchantingly, an increase in spitting up. I have also noticed that Josie seems to be losing some of her hair, particularly on the top of her head, which, in contrast to the inch long brown hair from her crown to her nape, gives her a male-pattern balding meets mullet look that is a bit peculiar on our tiny girl. . .

So alert.
In other news, Scott went back to work full-time last Monday, so J. and I just finished our first week as a mother-daughter duo, and things have gone quite well, much to my relief.

Dynamic Duo?

Josie mirrors Grandma Maas.
Mom came for a visit on Monday, and that evening we had dinner with the Minnetrista branch of the family. Dilly has very much become her own person, and is testing her boundaries with her parents.

Dilly in her own world.
Buster, on the other hand, is mostly testing his lungs, in a rather delightful way. (He may be squealing, but hey, he's so HAPPY to be making noise!) Josie slept through the whole event, providing scale for her rapidly growing cousins.

Becks and Buster looking winsome.
It's exciting to be getting back out into the world, after more than a month of sticking pretty close to home. The weather, which has been oppressively humid and hot, has finally broken, giving way to gorgeous sunny days. I'm looking forward to all sorts of adventures with my baby daughter!

What do you suppose she's thinking about?

4 Weeks Old

2008-06-28T22:23:00.007-05:00

Sleeping in Daddy's arms after walking to the main beach at Lake Nokomis and back. (My longest walk since the c-section. It's going to be awhile until I'm up to running 26.2 miles at a stretch again!)
Waking up.
Hungry hand munching.
Well hello there, Lefty...
It doesn't seem possible, but as of today, Josephine is four weeks old! The time has passed in a blur, but even so there are little changes that we've noticed: she is sleeping longer at a stretch, and seems to be nursing more efficiently. (Either that, or she's just in between growth spurts at the moment.) When she was born she weighed 8 lbs., at her 2 week check-up she was nearly 8.5, and now I suspect she's somewhere close to 10. She has lost her bandy newborn look and gotten softer and rounder, and her cheeks are starting to get that fullness that I associate with breastfed babies. Her range of noises has expanded to include grunts, coos, and the occasional enraged bellow (when she doesn't have access to nourishment at the moment she wants it. . .) Her facial expressions, too, are getting more varied. When she sleeps she seems to be practicing different emotions with all the exaggerated enthusiasm of a community theater actor: Surprise (milky mouth in an "oh", eyebrows raised halfway to her downy hairline), Suspicion (brows drawn down, mouth flat) and Happiness (this most often when she has fallen asleep post-nursing, stretched out across my lap with her mouth and nose still nuzzled against my chest). When she is especially frantic to eat she latches on with a comically furtive look that I long to catch on video, and once she starts the milk flowing her face morphs into a beatific mien that reminds me of Bill Cosby's zany smile in a childhood's worth of Pudding Pop commercials.

She really is amazing.

Update to the Belated Update

2008-06-19T11:32:00.004-05:00

Sleep when the baby sleeps...
The beneficent Grammy L.
After coming home from the hospital, I got an infection in my c-section incision, which was no fun, and then also developed a hematoma about the size of a softball in the sheath around my abdominus rectus muscles...so I have had a rough couple of weeks, but feel that I'm getting to the other side.

In better news, Josie is excellent, and has surpassed her birth weight by 6 oz., which is wonderful. We are very lucky to have my Mother in Law staying with us/looking after us, and days in the household are spend napping, eating and changing cloth diapers. I spend a fair amount of time feeling like a zombie milk truck, but in the best sort of way. Sometimes I have these moments of clarity in the middle of the night, when Josie has finished nursing and dropped into a noisy, contented sleep, when I just look at her and marvel that Scott and I were able to make something so amazing.

I'm sure that lack of sleep makes these moments especially profound, but even so, it's pretty incredible.

We have had so many visitors this past week. Just today A. Boof and Dude stopped by to meet Josie. She was very pleased to meet them, too.

Great Aunt Boof loves up baby Josie.
I so remember cousin Will when he was Josie's size, and here he is, all grown up.

Belated Update

2008-06-19T11:25:00.004-05:00

Josephine Frances made her way into the world at 3:30 P.M. on
Saturday, May 31st, via C-section after 14 hours of active labor.
Mother and baby are both doing very well, and after 3 days at
Woodwinds we are glad to be home and settling into our new roles as
Mom, Dad, and Most Adored. The pets aren't quite sure what to make of
this new creature who demands so much attention, and can made such
loud sounds for someone so small...

For those of you who appreciate statistics, Josie weighs 8 lbs and is
20" long. She took her own sweet time, making her appearance 10 days
after her due date. We are 100% delighted that she's finally here, and
look forward to introducing her to everyone.

What I've been doing for the last 9.5 months, condensed

2008-05-26T16:09:00.006-05:00

The adventure begins.

I'm totally showing.

Check out the bruises on my belly from the twice daily Lovenox shots.

Hey, all my maternity clothes are starting to look appropriate!

This is a good size... how about if I just stay like this?

Seriously, my center of gravity is shifting...

Hah! you thought there'd be a baby picture at the end! Stay tuned: I'm only 5 days past my due date:-)

There Have Been Complaints

2008-02-19T11:24:00.002-06:00

So, say you find yourself living a busy kind of life, and are growing a baby in your tummy and working a full-time job, and all of a sudden you realize that months and months have gone by unmarked by blog posts. Say that this lack of writing is remarked upon by demanding readers...what do you do?

In my case, you TRY to light a fire under yourself. I has taken a few days since the last complaint was lodged, but I have pictures to retrieve from the camera related to all sorts of things including areas of interest (to some readers) such as my belly and my orthodontia. Stay tuned.

Okay, Okay.

2007-06-07T08:22:00.000-05:00

Uncle Scooby and Dilly share a mug (???) of rhubarb crisp.
So it's been well over a month since I last posted anything here. I understand that some of you think that's too long, and consider me lazy. But only think about all the things that I've accomplished in the meantime!

1. Finished the in-class coursework for my Graphic Design major. (It gets added to my BFA from 1998.)
2. Graduated with my Applied and Rhetorical Writing BA (cum laude, I might add.)
3. Planted my vegetable garden and flowerpots. (Oh believe me, pictures will be forthcoming)
4. Visited Noonie in Chicago. Much boompsing and fooling was had.
5. Ran 23 miles straight after planning to run 20. (I didn't choose the route!) Yes, I am training for Grandma's. And also the Twin Cities marathon. I'm crazy that way.
6. Had inserted and promptly broke a Transpalatal Arch (I've had a TPA once before in the course of my orthodontia. Apparently the first one stretched the 'lingual tube' [little holder attached to the inside of the band on my upper first molars] on the right enough so that the TPA kept popping loose on that side. While I was at work, talking to customers. Laugh Riot. I tried to bend the wire a little to make it stay and it broke immediately.) Yes, I know it was dumb. One ought not to take orthodontia into one's own hands. There was a positive outcome to all of this, though. When I went in to have the first molar bands replaced in order to have non-stretched lingual tubes, I was treated by a stand-in orthodontist who decided to hyperextend my upper arch wire this time, and install the TPA next time. Since the TPA is kind of a pain (imagine a paper clip crammed across your upper palate...now imagine trying to get Japanese seaweed salad out of it...) this was a welcome reprieve.
7. Had a fun evening with Dilly while Sugie and Becks were out for dinner. (That little girl likes rhubarb crisp!)

Anyway, my point is that I have not just been sitting on my dupa ignoring my duties here. Well, maybe a little. But I'll try to be better. Especially when I have so much to share with you about my garden, including the glories of my seven tomato plants and the scourge of fourlined plant bugs that are trying to decimate my herb garden. Stay tuned!

Noona and Sylvia napping after a long day of shopping and exploring (well, maybe not on Sylvia's part.)

Squirrels are STILL Vermin

2007-04-22T18:30:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I met Jamie Jean for coffee after my morning run with the sharks. (okay, okay, they're lawyers, but not sharky ones. I just love the mixed metaphor.) Anyway, the weather was lovely, so we chose to meet at a sidewalk cafe'. One of the other patrons had a baby squirrel perched on his shoulder. He explained that his neighbor's dog had dispatched the mama squirrel and other babies, and that he had saved this one, and was feeding it through an eyedropper and with fruit. He let me hold the squirrelet, which he had named Herman. It was adorable, promptly curling into the sleeve of my sweater and trying to nurse on my hand.

Though my heart was touched, I refuse to be swayed from my dislike of squirrels, especially the one that keeps jumping onto my birdfeeder and eating the seed. Annoyingly, I now wonder if it's a little squirrel mama with babies in the nest. Harrumph.

Fat Cat in a Little Bed

2007-04-06T10:35:00.000-05:00

Django got in a fight about a week and a half ago (only 3 more days of twice daily antibiotic annoyed-cat-pill-stuffing!) Anyway, we took him to the vet with an infected rear paw that was cartoonishly huge. He was feeling so sorry for himself that I got sucked in and bought him the cat bed that he so clearly needed in order to convalesce properly. Unfortunately, it's considered something of a faux pas to try these things out in the store (as well as being a challenge), so I didn't find out until we got home that Django is a bit amply proportioned for the bed. Must be all the sweetened condensed milk. He seems to love his little bed, though, so I guess there's not really a problem.

I Hab a Coad

2007-03-30T09:55:00.000-05:00

Everything's greening up! (even the bark)
I have been trying to fight off a tickly snotty sore throaty malaise since Monday, and yesterday I though that it was getting better. Really. But then I stayed up until almost 4:00 am finishing The History of Love by Nicole Krauss, which Brian gave me last Saturday after the weekly run. It was clever and lovely: I highly recommend it. However. It was not a very health-enhancing decision, and this morning my nose is runnier and my throat scratchier, and I imagine the the unrelenting gray and rainy weather isn't going to dry up my head anytime soon. Ah well. I think that I've put reading in front of health pretty much my whole life. It's not such a bad way to be.

Read anything good lately? I need a new book to take my mind off this cold...

I raked all these leaves off of my flower beds the other day. Thanks to the recent rain, they're going to be a real pleasure to bag up...

Best. Orange Juice. Ever.

2007-03-19T17:11:00.000-05:00

The juicing setup.
Always thoughtful and unfailingly solicitous of our good health, WonderNoona recently shipped us a crate of fresh-picked Temple Oranges from Florida for the purpose of preventing Academics-Onset Scurvy. (You get it if you study too much. Don't even get me started on Under-Employment Rickets...all I can say is “Chocolate”…)

Anyway, these oranges were amazing: absolutely bursting with juice, nearly rind less, teeming with seeds, but in a lively sort of way, as if they were the adage "be fruitful" illustrated in rind and pulp and potential. They made such exquisite juice, sweet, tart, and bright, that they are now entirely used up, and all that remains are these commemorative photos. Bless your heart, Noonetta, with your generous help, a severe case of A-O Scurvy has been averted once more.

Thin-skinned and bursting with juice.

If we lived somewhere warmer, I could plant my own orange grove.

Goings On

2007-03-16T10:09:00.000-05:00

Crabshell on the beach, macro-style.
Ok, yeah, I'll be the first to admit that I haven't been very good about posting lately. I've been busy. Too busy, in fact, to procrastinate by blogging. That said, we did just have a lovely weeklong vacation on Hilton Head Island (off the coast of South Carolina) with Scooby's grandparents and LM. Highlights included trips to the beach for biking (yay balloon-tired rental cruisers) and walking, kayaking in Broad Creek (hello dolphins!) and hiking on Pinckney Island. Oh, and a really good sale at the J. Crew outlet store. I am SO set for chocolate brown clothing now. But hey, how often can you leave J. Crew with 3 pairs of trousers, a sweater, and a shirt for under $50?

We block the lovely scenery at the Pinckney Island Refuge.
Anyway we came back to find the colossal snow fall mostly melted, which leaves me longing for spring to get properly underway so that I can get into the back yard and start digging and planting. Who would have thought that I would be so excited by gardening? I know so many people here in the city who don't plant anything, and even fewer who grow veggies, but I think I would feel bereft if I left my gardens fallow. I guess it's a luxury, like anything else, and I'm lucky to have the time in my life to do it. That said, it's just satisfying on so many levels so see the tender shoots of things I have planted pushing up through the mud. Hurry up spring!

A Camelia in the Grandparent's backyard.

To bring you my Junk.

2007-02-25T22:36:00.000-06:00

Hey. Hi. Hello.

I have been busy working on homework and watching cardinals frequent the bird feeder outside the window behind my monitor. At this very moment I am listening to mid-90's vintage PJ Harvey and feeling pleased to be done with the poster you see above these words. The piece is 30"x40", but I had the feeling that you wouldn't want to try to view it at that size. Call me crazy. All of you who have sent me pictures of your junk drawers and filled out the questionnaire, be on the look out for my next project, "2007 Parade of Drawers." If you haven't sent me anything, shame on you. It's not too late, though. Just let me know you want in, and I'll drop you a line.

Lonesome for the sound of my voice?

2007-02-20T13:10:00.000-06:00

If so, you can stream my radio show, "Morning Show: Part 2" on St. Cloud State's community radio station, 88.1 KVSC FM from 9am-12pm Tuesdays through May 15th.

Be sure to email a request so I'll know you love me:-)

Lemon Dilemma

2007-02-18T19:16:00.000-06:00

Here's your chance to leave a comment and vote for your favorite Lemony logo, which will then become a central part of my "identity system" as a graphic designer (at least for the purpose of my Portfolio class).

So, whatcha think?

Random News and Christmas Toes

2007-01-03T11:02:00.000-06:00

Various things, notably the end of the semester, Christmas preparations and travel, and last week traveling to St. Joe to help Mom repaint her kitchen, have kept me from devoting any time to blogging. In fact, even now, sitting in my recliner cozied up in my stripy red pj's and a thick wool blanket, enjoying a lazy weekday, I don't find myself particularly motivated. I will pass on these morsels of information, though, and also leave you with a neato picture or three.

1. We had a great Christmas. Three, actually. First with Birdie, Shugie, Madilly, and Dilly out in Minnetrista, then in Elkhorn, Nebraska, with Scooby's wonderful family, immediate and extended, and finally back in Minnetrista again with Shugie, Madilly, Dilly, Papa, Suebee, and my five sisters, Nina, Nana, Bud, Roselia, and the Floor Hockey Champ. Also Nana's daughter, EmGee, and Gramma R.. It was great to see so many loved ones during the holiday season.

2. B'lou and Pat were home for the holidays, and we got to see them for a couple of outings, which was grand. We hope to somehow fit in a trip to Sacramento during the next year so that we can see them on their home turf!

3. It looks like I won't have to get upper jaw surgery after all! This makes me happy indeed. My orthodontist was making noises about the possibility, and I went to my appointment yesterday with butterflies in my stomach. He allowed (and I will say that I made it clear that I was less than thrilled about having my maxilla sawn apart and screwed back together) that I am a borderline case, and that he thought that he could work out a pretty good bite for me, albeit slightly less that IDEAL. Come on, we're talking orthodontia, not diamonds here. He did say that it could be that in 20 years I will wish that I had had the surgery, to which I replied that in 20 years there might well be different technology. He concurred. The he (sadistically?) bent my top and bottom wires for precision tooth movement and installed my first rubber band ("elastic") on the right side. My teeth were pretty sore last night, and still today, but it's nowhere near surgery:-)

Here are a few pix of Christmas in Nebraska:
Dimples and I sport our holiday cheer.

Mr. I's fabulous Gr slippers.

The Grandma and Dimples Mutual Adoration Society.

Belated Mama Megglesworth News

2006-11-29T10:50:00.000-06:00

Lovely Megs with beautiful babies.
If any of you were wondering if and when baby Megglesworth hatched, YES, yes, he did! Ducky was born November 10th, a happy, healthy, incredibly handsome 9lb boy with very good instincts for feeding and great taste in parents!

I will try to post a more current photo sometime soon, but in the meantime, above is one of Mama with baby Ducky and niece Shannon, and below is one of me making Ducky grumble with the cashmere baby hat that I made for him, which turned out a bit snug on his little noggin. (I made one that fit much better the next day...)

Ducky in a bunny hat.

Photographs I Didn't Take

2006-11-29T10:14:00.000-06:00

The farm: (from l to r) Dairy barn, house, horse barn, garage, chicken coop, granary. Hidden from view are the summer kitchen, pump house, and cottage. None of the outbuildings are occupied these days by anything larger than a cat.

So. I carried my camera with me through all of the Thanksgiving travel, from the farm to Mom's house to home to my aunt's for a wedding shower that Sunday, and in the end, I only really had two pictures to show for it. Even more kooky, neither of the pix are of people!

What about the Thanksgiving table at the farm, laden with platters of turkey, bowls of mashed potatoes, broccoli with cheese, green salad resplendent with avocado, red onion, pea pods, and more? Two types of homemade cranberry relish (no can-shaped jelly here!), hard rolls, gravy—I'm sure I'm forgetting something. That table groaned with delicious offerings. What about the picture of me, Scooby, four of my sisters, and my neice, Petunia, bookended by Papa and Sue-bee, gathered around the table in thanks for all of our good fortune this year? What about Frank, the geriatric Jack Russel, sharking around under the table for dropped morsels and hand outs? Certainly I should have snapped a shot of the dessert spread, complete with pumpkin pie, buttermilk pie, and two types of fudge (which Scooby made just for the occasion.) I should have captured an image of Sue-bee helping me search for agates as we took a walk down the dirt road to the north 40 and back after dinner. Or the tracks on the side of the road indicating that at least one of the dairy cattle down the way had gone on the lam.

Later, at Mom's, couldn't I have gotten a photo of Mom and Scooby playing a whimsical game of hang-man? A shot of the gigantic, delicious, buttery bowl of popcorn we snacked on, still full from Thanksgiving gorging? No, instead I took a pic of Zoe-kitty looking a little skanky after a few hits of catnip. All I can say, by way of explanation, is that I was having quite a lot of fun in the moment, surrounded by loved ones and indulged with amazing meals, and I didn't care to step back and be an observer, even for a minute.
Zoe looking tweaky.

Who wouldn't love a thrift gift?

2006-11-22T18:27:00.000-06:00

You never know what you'll find at a thrift store.
I love thrift stores. Seriously. I can spend ridiculous amounts of time sifting through books and purses and racks of sweaters, looking for that one great find: the unique skirt or bizarre kitchen gadget. It also makes me feel good to recycle/reuse something rather than buying new. Plus, it's kind to my student budget, leaving me more money for important things like haircuts and massages. Sometimes I find something incredible, most often nothing great. Lately I've been sweater hunting. (It is, after all, winter in Minnesota, though we don't have any snow here in Minneapolis.) Today I visited Savers and found three cashmere turtlenecks from Neiman Marcus, all in great shape, for $6.99 apiece. Two of them were black, and one was green. I had no choice but to buy all three. I'm thinking that I might give one of the black sweaters to Madilly or maybe B'lou. I know that neither would mind that it was thrifted. It got me thinking. Wouldn't it be kind of cool to do a thrift Christmas? Think of the great stuff you could find! You could either set out to find the nicest stuff possible, like the $298 Coach purse that I bought for $15 awhile back, or you could look for something fun, like the "Big Maze" game that I have hanging in my kitchen. It certainly wouldn't be the same thing that everyone else was getting. Sure, it might take more time than just visiting the mall, but it would also be more personal. Just an idea.
The Big Maze game on my kitchen wall.

The Last Supper as a mirror. Nice.

This down-on-her-luck angel was most likely a tree-topper.

Am I the only one who thinks the Eiffel Tower looks awfully happy to see the Arc de Triumph?

Everything on this chair was thrifted. In fact, I bought the chair at Goodwill in 1999.

Counter Intelligence

2006-11-21T22:08:00.000-06:00

Our kitty, Django, has some habits that I don't admire. Chief among these is his predilection for bringing live rodents into the house through the dog door, even though I hear we're supposed to feel flattered. (Or, as I have also heard, pitied, since it's obvious to him that we have really pathetic hunting skills. Thus he is helping us practice by bringing half-dead chipmunks for us to chase around the basement.)
In addition to his career as a rodent killing machine, Django excels at waking up house guests by squeezing his paw under the bedroom door and rattling it, jumping onto my back as I am bent over weeding the garden, and lolling around on the kitchen counters. To be honest, the guest-waking and back pouncing are kind of funny and clever. I don't mind them too much. The counter-lolling, however, REALLY bothers me—especially when he comes into the house from doing god only knows whatoutside and tracks muddy(!) pawprints over each of the three counter surfaces. Not only that: I caught him licking the seasoning oil off the cast iron skillet last week. Ish. And today, in the wake of another of Scooby's dessert-creation sprees (milk & white chocolate swirl fudge...) I walked into the kitchen to be presented with this:

I was not surprised to find out the Django likes sweetened condensed milk.

Contemplating a coffee chaser for his sweet treat.

I am the Baker's Wife

2006-10-26T09:07:00.000-05:00

Yum!
Last night I arrived home from work to find another tasty treat courtesy of the baking prowess of Mr. Scooby. This time he made a pan of delicious Blondies. Good thing I was on the eliptical trainer for 45 minutes today, yeah?

The braces still don't suck. (If you were wondering).

2006-10-23T12:40:00.000-05:00

I've had braces since April, and it's really been minimally painful. I'm not sayiing that there isn't a certain period after each adjustment when I feel a disinclination to bite and chew, but no headaches or mouthaches, just localized tenderness. It wasn't terribly comfortable to have my Transpalatal Arch (my 'bit') put in place, but even that took only a couple minutes during a regular appointment, and only hurt because they tried one that was too big first, and it poked my hard palate. It's amazing how easily teeth move around. See for yourself:

Lower arch sometime around June.

Lower arch currently.

My bit.

My April smile.

My Smile at present.

Mariposa Libre

2006-10-23T10:52:00.000-05:00

Madilly sent over some insanely darling pictures of Dilly in her Halloween costume. I thought you might enjoy them.

Mama Megglesworth

2006-10-16T00:31:00.000-05:00

Mama Megglesworth with Bella and Flip, whose worlds are about to be rocked.
Mrs. Megglesworth will almost certainly schwup me if she sees this pixel-y swimmy cell phone photograph that I have posted of her, but I just couldn't help it. She is so burstingly, delightfully pregnant that she simply had to be documented. We stopped over today to survey the progress that the Megglesworths have made on their house projects as parentdom and a sure lack of free time looms large. (Actually, Scooby was there for quite awhile yesterday helping build their new two car garage, but since I was at work, I missed out.) In any case, everything seems to be moving along, and thank goodness, since their bambino could arrive at any time. I can't wait!

Any time is a Good time for Pie

2006-10-10T00:14:00.000-05:00

I got home from school tonight and found that Scooby had baked me a pie! Furthermore, when I say that he baked me a pie, I don't mean that he bought a frozen pastry and popped in into the oven. No, this was a culinary masterpiece with a scratch crust and filling made from two different kinds of (not "pie filling") canned organic cherries. It was delicious. I am a lucky, lucky woman.

Random Phone Pictures

2006-09-27T00:07:00.001-05:00

One of my classmates just taught me how to sync up my phone to my computer via bluetooth, thus I was able to download the many photos that have been taken over the two year that I have had said phone. Here are a few gems:

Yellowstone in July.

Trophy fish at Sea Salt.

A fashion look I won't be emulating.

Mojo's Kermit.

My Life as a Schoolgirl

2006-09-26T11:47:00.000-05:00

So I'm back in school. This semester, at least, I only have to make the 2.5 hour round trip three times a week, though two of the three days I have to be on campus from 10 am until 9 pm. Long days, long days. The irony of such a schedule is that all three classes I'm taking could, in my opinion, meet for much shorter times. We are consistently given "time to work" in class. For the most part I would much rather work from home. Ah well. At least the classes are interesting, especially the one on packaging design.

My schedule is not without its perks: I have a 3.5 hour break in the afternoons on Monday and Wednesday, so I have been running and lifting weights with Moggie. This is very exciting for me, as I stopped running after the Pulmonary Embolism in December. Something about the getting out of breath and having a rapid heartbeat put me off some. So running with Moggie is fabulous. If I were trying to go it alone, I wouldn't be nearly as motivated. Trust me, I know this from experience. Our goal is to get into better shape, and then stay that way all winter. Not so easy to do in the land of 10,000 snowstorms! We might even ease into training for Grandma's come February. For a while I've been saying that I might prefer the Twin Cities Marathon to Grandma's, but hey, if I have someone to train with, any marathon will do, don't you think? Anyway, Halenbeck Hall has a great fitness center these days, as well as a very nice indoor track and even a climbing wall and massage therapist (I'm sure it comes as no surprise that I'm much more inclined to make use of the latter.)

Orlinda Frances Hesch - 7.4.1915-8.29.1996

2006-08-28T23:32:00.001-05:00

Ten years ago today Gram died. The official report says that she passed on August 29th, but I was there, and to my mind, she arrived at the hospital the morning of the 28th, was sick all day, and was gone by midnight. Quickly, with a maximum of dignity and a minimum of pain. Not a bad way to go.

It seems so amazing sometimes to realize that all our lives have kept moving forward in her absence, that so many important mile-markers have happened since she's been gone. Nanny, Bid, and I have all graduated from college (Nanny even has her Master's!) She would have been so pleased: she had an unwavering faith in education. I adopted a dog (which perhaps doesn't seem like a major mile-marker, but if you think that, you haven't heard the story of how Wiley has been the author of much of my fate! [Gram would have called Wiley a "good bow" and let him lick her feet through her ankle-stockings]), bought a house, ran some marathons, met a wonderful man... Nanny, J Mike, and I have all gotten married. Jobs and addresses have come and gone, we've traveled and returned home, the first great-grandchild has been born.

Sometimes I dream that she's still alive, grown older, as she would have. These dreams hold surprise and happiness, even the ones where I am her care-taker, bathing and feeding her, (inexplicably) carrying her around as if she weighed no more than a child. When I wake up I'm a little sad to have to let her go again, but then, she's not, really. We invoke her often, through memories and by association, planting Bleeding Hearts and Peonies, making potato soup and pot roast and rhubarb crisp, singing "Just a Closer Walk With Thee" and "Stille Nacht." We carry her with us—the knowledge that she would be proud of our accomplishments, happy for our happiness, approving of a tidy haircut or the elegant cut of a new coat. I have only to bring to mind her soft, paper-skinned hand stroking my hair, my head leaned against her knee, to feel a sense of peace curl around me, comforting as her gray yard-wool blanket. I have no doubt that she is watching out for all of us, and I am grateful.

Reared on the Teat of Public Radio

2006-08-14T13:41:00.000-05:00

Yesterday as Scooby and I were driving around running errands and listening to Mojo's Womenfolk (the special Winnipeg Folk Festival wrap up!) show on KFAI, Scoob remarked that from what he's heard of my radio persona on KVSC, and Mojo and our dear friend Luvbaby Driver on KFAI, we employ special "non-commercial radio" voices when on air. You know the voice I'm talking about: soothing, serious, and precise. He seemed to find it pretty amusing. Says we're much girly-er in person. Whatever.

Tourists in Our Own Town

2006-08-07T07:22:00.000-05:00

Several things have kept me busy lately, including longer hours at work, and more pleasingly, an afternoon on the placid waters of Lake Minnetonka (no rapids!) with Dilly, Shugie, Madilly, and a couple of our cousins and their sweeties.
Madilly and Dilly cooling off in Lake Minnetonka.
Our boating outing was followed immediately by a stream of beloved out-of-town visitors: My vibrant and fabulous college roommate K Dub, who stayed with us on the Minneapolis leg of her epic midwestern road trip, occasioning a soiree on an evening so hot and steamy that we forsook the backyard in favor of the air-conditioned splendor to be found in our cramped living room. The pups were delighted to have a house guest who loved on them as much as their Noona does.
Kisses for K Dub
K Dub's visit was followed immediately by a convergence of Scooby's Mom (our Little Mama, as opposed to Tall Mama Birdie) and B'Lou, sister of my heart, who, thanks to her most recent haircut, is looking more like my sibling than my actual sisters do! (Unfortunately, I was slow on the photography ball and didn't document this phenomenon. Suffice it to say that when I arrived at her parent's house to whisk her away for a catch-up breakfast a deux, we took in each other's hair [boy-short, blackish, and silvering more and more as we venture into our mid-30's,] black short-sleeved t-shirts, capri pants, and sensible shoes and chortled with glee.)

Little Mama, Scooby, and I spent Friday touristing around, A happy family on the Guthrie's Bridge to Nowhere
visiting the newly completed Guthrie Theater, which is a stunning tribute to clever architecture, full of unexpected reflective surfaces, projected images, and endless escalators. The Bridge to Nowhere's railing catches the sky.
After we had our fill of the theater building, we walked down the street to the Mill City Museum, sister of the Minnesota History Center, which details the history of flour milling in Minneapolis. Built within the masonry remains of the Washburn Flour Mill's A building, which burned to a shell in February of 1991, the architecture is fully as interesting as the exhibits housed inside. A juxtaposition of the new and old structures in the courtyard of the museum.
Sunday we went to the Powderhorn Art Fair with a representative sampling of the River Falls contingent of Scooby's family: AB, Chano, and Dimples. The art fair featured some really marvelous work, including incredibly beautiful woodcuts by fellow Minnesota Center for Arts Education alumni, Nick Wroblewski.

Good times, good times. Scooby and Dimples at the Powderhorn Art Fair.

You know you work at an interesting place when:

2006-08-02T23:49:00.000-05:00

1. You notice that your customer in footwear has no toes, (they appear to have been amputated), and is also missing the very ends of their fingers.

2. When you relate this story to a co-worker, she immediately says "Did the person look like an ice climber? I bet it was frostbite."

That was so not my first guess.

Bocce & Becky—Two Great Reasons for a Party

2006-07-24T12:41:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, Scooby and I attended two parties. The first was a wedding shower, a very nice event which reminded me that wedding showers are most fun if you are the person receiving the gifts, (and even then, it's not like there's dancing or anything.) The second party that we went to was a combination Bocce Ball/ Going Away party, and it was quite enjoyable. Mo(ther Ban)jo's friend Becky is moving to the northwest to be closer to her family. Minneapolis was supposed to be a brief hiccup for her, but instead became an alphabet-length burp, and now, at last, she has garage-saled her excess belongings and is hitting the road. We are sad to see her go, but have great hopes for her future happiness. There were even imported (from Michigan) fireworks (albeit small ones) to send her on her way.
Mojo and Kormy bracket Becky in a poignant leave-taking tableau.

Mojo as a BBQing Babe.

Whatever is Ms. Waldorf thinking? Write your caption in the comments section below.

Mojo's super snazzy Bocce court in play.

Imported Michigan sparklers create a nifty chiaroscuro effect.

We salute Becky by detonating a teeny tiny volcano.

How My Garden Does Grow

2006-07-21T17:37:00.000-05:00

This spring we buried a soaker hose under the vegetable garden, and it seems to have been quite a success. In fact, the tomato plants are a little monstrous at this point—even adjusting for the raised beds, they have to be over 5' tall. We have already enjoyed chard, cherry tomatoes, and small zucchini, and the pattypan squash (a volunteer plant from last year) is starting to produce. Jalapeno and banana peppers are just waiting to be picked. A lone eggplant is peeking shyly from under its leafy canopy. Rainbow chard waves from the shadiest section of the garden. Three types of basil, two varieties of thyme, chives, garlic chives, rosemary, lavender, and mint all wait to add their two cents. Ahhh. A bountiful garden is a blessing, indeed.

Tomato plant-tastic! I am 5'10" and included for scale.

Delicious heirloom cherry tomatoes. Wish I could remember what they're called!

Future zucchini a la Georgia O'Keefe.

How could something so cute be a member of the nightshade family? (Yeah, I know, so are my lovely tomatoes, and the peppers, too!)

What IS this stuff? It's such a pretty weed...

Balloon flowers are the best blue.

Trip Photographs IV- End of the Road

2006-07-14T13:50:00.000-05:00

After spending several days in Jackson, we left for Winnipeg on the morning of July 5th, retracing our journey through Grand Teton National Park and heading north through Yellowstone, leaving by the northeast gate rather than the eastern gate that we had passed through on our way in. Not far from the park exit we were delayed by a herd of bison who gleefully blocked the road for twenty minutes before ambling off towards greener pastures and strange clouds. The northeastern route took us out of Yellowstone and along the Beartooth Highway, which twists and turns, doubling back on itself over and over along the border of Wyoming and Montana as it slaloms its way through the Absaroka and Beartooth ranges.Official sources cite an altitude of 10, 947' above sea level at the highest point on Beartooth Pass, confirmed by our handheld GPS, which Scooby enabled as we began our ascent. It was a little freaky to watch the numbers climbing ever higher as Chico trundled up the unsettlingly narrow and worn asphalt road. Much to the chagrin of my quease-factor, I began to picture Chico as a roller coaster car reaching for the apex of its journey. Once we got above the tree line, the landscape was beautiful and starkly non-Minnesotan: lovely meadows with tiny wildflowers curving away unsettlingly at the edges as if viewed in a convex mirror. The highway itself is just under 70 miles long, but took us somewhere around three hours to complete, thanks to the cautious speeds engendered by narrow roads and sheer drop-offs only feet from the roadway. Once east of Red Lodge, MT, the road flattened considerably, mountains diminishing to buttes and plateaus, then badlands, and then fields as we counted the miles eastward and into the night. We were able to make it to Bismark, ND by the end of our driving day, watching the terrain subside into the placid monotony of the midwest. Thursday morning we drove north along the Red River Valley, through Grand Forks, ND and to the Canadian border, where we crossed without incident into Manitoba, land of slow speed limits and startlingly chartreuse Canola fields. After a slightly confusing detour through Winnipeg, we arrived at Birds Hill Park late in the afternoon, giving us just enough time to pitch our tent in the quiet campground before heading to the festival site to catch the first main stage concert of the long weekend which is the Winnipeg Folk Festival. Minutes after we passed through the festival gates we ran into one of my Mom's best friends in the world, Mog, and her husband, Miles, which was a wonderful surprise.

Having not been to the Folk Fest since 1983 (Mog and Miles were there that time, too!), it was interesting to compare the size, commotion, and music to the eyes-of-a-nine-year-old memories I had stored away. Things seemed pretty similar, though I was much MORE interested in listening to the music this time, and somewhat less interested in going on the horseback trips at the in-park stables... I certainly didn't remember so many cars, though some of the vans looked familiar. (In 1983 we were the proud owners of a 60's era VW bus named Boeing.) You can just see the boats on top of Chico at the top left hand side of the picture.
We had a great time at the festival, hanging with old and new friends, listening to great music, dancing, even managing to run into my workmate Amy (third from the left) on the eve of her six week long paddling trip from the north shore of Lake Winnipeg to Hudson Bay. (Think safe-traveling thoughts for Amy and the three women with her—that's one hell of a trip! ) Many of the musicians were amazing, notably English folk hero Richard Thompson (pictured), and the gorgeously distinct voices of Neko Case, Ruthie Foster, and Oh Suzanna. Scooby especially appreciated the lewd and amusing crankiness of Atlanta, GA born Vic Chesnutt. Monday found us ready to head home. Other than a few minutes getting our car searched by the border patrol, (even with ABSOLUTELY nothing to worry about, it's still freaky to have uniformed strangers poking through your stuff. Dirty undies, anyone?) the trip was quick and uneventful. The dogs and kitty were glad to have us home, and all was well, with the exception of a couple of plants in my flower beds that had expired from lack of water during the extremely hot and dry spell that hovered over Minneapolis while we were gone. Sigh. I guess I'll have to make a trip to the nursery:-)

Trip Photographs III- the Snake River (WY)

2006-07-12T22:57:00.000-05:00

Sorry about that—I didn't mean to leave y'all hanging. We arrived home after our week and a half of travelling on Sunday afternoon, and now, on Tuesday evening, I feel a little blogging energy returning. In my last post I mentioned that everyone in Jackson has nicknames, and that I would explain the origin of "Little Kahuna Bunny." Here goes: I have done some whitewater kayaking, but not in the "big" water that one finds out west. Having seen the Snake River first hand, I decided that I didn't want to paddle it on my own, so we rented a two person inflatable kayak (called a Duckie), and along with Red Leader and her hubby, also in a Duckie, and the Pope of Chili Town, in his own one-person inflatable, set out to paddle the section of the Snake between West Table campground and the Sheep Gulch boat launch. Things went okay until we were over half way through the run, at which time S. and I capsized at the top of one of the largest rapids, called "Big Kahuna," and not only swam through that rapid, but also, not being able to make it across the "eddy wall" into the eddy (we almost made it, but then got sucked back into the current: not fun!) ended up swimming through a formidable rapid called "Lunch Counter." After that we were able to make it to land, albeit on opposite sides of the river. Thank God for life jackets and helmets.
I have heard it said that water has the power to transform, and certainly for me, in this circumstance, I can assure you that it's true. Big Kahuna and Lunch Counter turned me from a kayaker into a shuttle bunny, (the term given to someone who does not paddle the river, but instead acts as support for the kayakers—dropping them off at the put-in, often taking pictures of them as they make their way down the river, and then picking them up at the take-off spot.) I think that I'll be much happier as a bunny. Little Kahuna Bunny, to be specific. Yeah, that works.

Big Kahuna is at the top of the picture, Lunch Counter at the bottom.

The Pope of Chili Town intentionally swimming through Lunch Counter in a moment of insanity.

Scooby/Murph paddling Lunch Counter the day after we swam. Apparently the river didn't work its transformative magic on him.

The P. of C.T. hams it up.

Scooby/Murph surfing a wave beside the Station Creek campground while the Bulkster and P. of C.T. look on.

Trip Photographs II- Wyoming

2006-07-03T19:03:00.000-05:00

Devil's Tower. It's much harder to make a replica out of criss-cut fries. That's all I have to say.
Our trip has been mostly westward, and the sunsets seem to get ever more beautiful.
Chico contemplates the Continental Divide. (Yellowstone National Park)
Chico at the gateway to Grand Teton National Park.

Trip Photographs I- South Dakota

2006-07-03T18:50:00.000-05:00

We managed to hit a few kitsch landmarks on the South Dakota leg of our journey. Chico especially liked the Corn Palace in Mitchell.
The badlands are incredible. Photos taken from a cheapy digital camera can't begin to do them justice. (especially when a certain car happens to be hogging the view. Chico is such a picture whore.)
One of our many "hold camera out in front of us" portraits.

Winnipeg by way of Jackson Hole, Wyoming

2006-07-03T18:37:00.000-05:00

This spring some friends invited us to meet them in Jackson Hole, Wyoming over the 4th of July weekend for some whitewater kayaking on the Snake River. We thought that sounded like a swell idea, and started making plans for our trip. A short while later, I won two passes to the Winnipeg Folk Festival, which runs from July 6-9th, and our weekend became a week and a half with a hell of a hypotenuse.

While I don't intend to post a trip journal per se, I did want to pass along some of the amazing things that we have seen so far, and will see as our trip continues. As I type these words, we have just pulled into Jackson, Wyoming, after two days of fairly intense driving. It's just after 7:00 pm, and the sun is shining golden and hazy over the valley. The town is quaint, touristy, and bears a marked resemblance to Banff, Canmore, and every other destination mountain town I have ever visited.

***
Fast forward three days. It's now Monday, July 3rd, and we have been staying at the Station Creek campground with Red Leader, Murph (my hubby), P. Ratt, The Pope of Chili Town, the Bulkster, and one as-yet to-be-nicknamed camper, who is the new husband of the Red Leader. (Understand that, previous post on nicknames aside, I have had nothing to do with these apellations. I have fallen into a nicknaming group, and there is no escape. My official tag is now Little Kahuna Bunny, and that's that.) I will post the story of the nickname in a seperate post. Suffice it to say, there was kayaking carnage involved, and that it took place at a rapid on the Snake River called Big Kahuna.

A Good Sort of Surprise

2006-06-18T22:17:00.000-05:00

On Friday S. came home from work and spent some time in the garage measuring our kayaks in anticipation of buying Yakima racks for the Saab. When he came in from the back yard, he looked perplexed. He asked if I thought that the strawberry plants would produce better if they were staked up, only to realize as the words left his mouth that I had a colander full of ripe berries in the sink, just for him.

Yesterday We Turned 60

2006-06-16T12:16:00.000-05:00

One of the first things that I found out about my husband, months before we started seeing each other, (the day that we met at the Hell's Gate Rapid on the Kettle River) was that we share the same birthday. We are not, however, the same age, and this year, as I turned 32 and he turned 28, we celebrated our combined 60th birthday at the Highland Park Chatterbox Pub. I foolishly forgot to bring my camera, and so was not able to document the convergence of the W.D.S.N.R. (Weekly Daily Show Nightcap Recap) contingent, my Wednesday Night Poker pals, fellow REI wage-slaves, various neighbors, and friends of all stripes. I mean, sure, many of them were at the wedding, but until last night hadn't had a chance to drink beer and chat while bathed in the light of a lazily revolving disco ball.

As my friend Jon summed up in an early morning email, we do, indeed, have an EXCELLENT circle of friends.

Music for Babies

2006-06-14T12:43:00.000-05:00

During the time that I was watching Dilly, I was able to entertain her with lots of different music, since most of my CD collection is on my computer. She seems to have some definite likes and dislikes, and generally preferred folk to just about any other genre. Through highly scientific methods, I was able to ascertain the following:

Dilly likes to listen to:

Eliza Gilkyson
Mason Jennings
Greg Brown

Dilly doesn't mind hearing:

The Gipsy Kings
They Might Be Giants
Aimee Mann

Dilly doesn't much care for the musical stylings of:

The Strokes
Modest Mouse
Guided By Voices

Dilly also has an appreciation for being sung to. Her current favorites include my rendition of "'52 Vincent Black Lightening" (Richard Thompson) and her Dad's versions of the theme songs from Grizzly Adams and Land of the Lost.

My "Aunt" Name

2006-06-07T09:04:00.000-05:00

On my Mom's side of the family, everyone has a nickname. Furthermore, these names change over time, adapting to the linguistic capability of the speaker's mouth. My Mom and aunts have nicknames worn smooth by the lips of a generation of adoring children, a loving erosion that can take a cheerfully rude teasing name bestowed by an older sister and change it into something not only benign but totally random. Thus "Pubescence" changes over time to "Pubie" where it is passed in relay to my older brother and me and becomes "Aunt Noobie" and then is passed to my cousin and her brother to become "Aunt Noonie," and finally "Noona." Like the bunny in the story The Velveteen Rabbit became real by being loved, so too these seem to be the real names that my Mom and her sibs were meant to have, so much so that Noona is known both personally and professionally by that name, and my Mom has the name "Birdie" on her name tag at work. In fact, "Lemony" is my childhood nickname, and as you, dear reader, must have noticed, I have embraced it as my identity on this blog.

So now it's my turn. Dilly, my 3 1/2 month old niece, can already make an amazing number of sounds and squeals, and I know that the day is not too very far off (a year?) when I will receive an aunt name of my very own. I do have some say: I draw the line at "Auntie Em," for instance (just as I suspect my brother and I never addressed my aunt as "Aunt Pubie!") It probably won't be Aunt Lemony, because my immediate family doesn't call me that, just my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Within the immediate family there are still plenty of names to choose from. (My brother was less permissive of our messing with his name, but that doesn't mean that he won't have kids calling him Uncle Shugie [short for Sugar Bear] some day!) As for my aunt name, we'll just have to see what Dilly says.

Nacent Berries

2006-06-02T08:55:00.000-05:00

A few years ago I replanted the strawberry bed—S. loves strawberries (and I love S.) After the plants established themselves, they began producing like crazy. This year will be no exception—there are hundreds of little green berries in the patch, and now they're on the verge of ripening. In additon to the strawbs, there promises to be a bumper raspberry crop, and my rhubarb is flourishing. Alas, the blueberries that I planted this spring aren't quite up to speed yet. I think that one of the five plants blossomed, and I may get about four berries, if the birds don't get them first. No worries, though. I'm sure that next year they'll come into their own.

Baby berry, green and hairy.

Blurry raspberry blossoms.

So this is what a future blueberry looks like. Pretty cool.

98 Degrees in the Shade

2006-05-29T14:08:00.000-05:00

Having finally finished painting the kitchen and installing the counters, not to mention painting the foundation of the house and building my fountain, we decided that it was time to have people over. So last night a few of the weekly Daily Show night contingent and a couple of neighbors and friends dropped by for some grilling, cake (it was P.'s birthday) and conversation. A good time was had by all, though the "conversation" about run-off voting got a skosh intense:-)

Party goers lounging in a post-dining daze.

S. lounging after slaving over a hot grill.

Pump:$16 at Menards. Planter Pot: $60 at Bachman's. Finding out that your neighbors copied your design almost exactly because they so admired it: Priceless.

The Godfather

2006-05-23T14:08:00.000-05:00

Last weekend S. and I became the proud Godparents (in addition to uncle and aunt) of KQ, (hereby known as Dilly.)

Little peanut Dilly with Uncle S. included for scale.

The word on the street is that fist munching means she's hungry. Not something that Uncle Scooby can remedy.

Dilly in her beautiful baptismal gown, (hand-sewn by Great Aunts Noona and Cookie!) accompanied by her parents, god and temporal.

Apparently, Heuchera ="HOY-craw"

2006-05-23T10:06:00.000-05:00

However you pronounce it, it likes to grow in the shade, and shade is something I have in abundance.

H. Peach Flambe' and H. Plum Pudding backed by Asiatic Lilies (leftover wedding favors, transplants from Fares' backyard, and legacy plants from Doris) at the sunnier W edge of the rock garden.

H. Hearts on Fire. I love the variegated leaves.

H. Hearts on Fire and H. Purple Mountain Majesty next to the Blue Leaf Arctic Willow and Dianthus at the NW corner of the rock garden.

Yay, Gardening! (part III)

2006-05-15T23:57:00.000-05:00

Dwarf Willow, Dianthus, Sedum, and a stray Hosta in the rock garden.

Wedding Iris from Noona stretching toward the sun.

Round three of the Spring planting saga, starring: Mayapple, English Thyme, Sweet Woodruff, Vinca, 6 varieties of Tomato, 2 varieties of pepper, Rainbow Chard, Basil, Coral Bells, and Salvia.

Yay, Gardening! (part II)

2006-05-15T18:05:00.000-05:00

Hostas and Vinca next to the front steps.

Bleeding Hearts in the back yard.

One of my recent projects: Hostas (soon to be joined by Vinca) around the Poplar in the median.

More Hearts.

Yay, Gardening!

2006-05-10T01:15:00.000-05:00

This morning I finally had time to do some gardening. We have new neighbors to the north, and they've been hard at work in their yard, setting a high bar for everyone else on the block. Last week they planted flowers on the strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street in front of their house. This morning I had enough time to rise to the challenge. (I will try to post pix before S. and I take off to Omaha tomorrow for M.'s graduation from Med school! Way to go, Sis!) I planted two beds in my boulevard strip—one next to the sidewalk with a red Peony, pink Astilbe, purple-tinged Heuchera (coral bells) and three plantings of four Brodiaea bulbs, nestled in cypress mulch. I'm really excited about the Brodiaea—I've never planted it before—it should have purple star-shaped flowers (provided it comes up...)

The other bed surrounds the trunk of the Poplar tree. I transplanted four Hostas from my rock garden in the back yard. (coming ever closer to a Hosta-free state. It's not that dislike Hostas per se, I just have so many of them, and they multiply like rabbits!) . I had a more ornate planting scheme which was thwarted by several shallow tree roots. The next time I'm at the nursery I'll probably buy some Vinca to fill in the rest of the bed. In the mean time, the mulch will have to do.

Check back for pix soon!

I'm a sucker for a broken car (meet Chico)

2006-04-28T09:55:00.000-05:00

I just realized that several of the cars that I have owned over the course of my driving career have been broken when I bought them. While one good reason for this is that I come from a family that believes in fixing things, and have now married a guy who does, too, it occurs to me that this is not normal behavior. That said, I have come out ahead just about every time, even if I've driven the car for a couple years. My first broken car was Frank, a mid-80's Volvo 242 sedan with a cracked head. I bought him for $50, and invested maybe $200-$300 more. Not bad for a vehicle that I drove for a year and sold for a profit. Then there was the 1985 BMW 528 that I bought for (I think) $500 with accident damage to the hood and fender, and had repaired. I did end up having to drop an engine into that car, which was an extra $350 or so. I believe I drove the Beemer for 4-5 years, and finally sold it for about what I had originally put into it. Let's see, then there was a BMW 535 that had no problems that I drove for awhile, and then a Saab 900 named Mr. Frisky (well, I had to have Mr. Frisky's sunroof fixed, but for an $800 car, that's not too bad) and then I bought Lola, my Corolla wagon. She was also $800, and had a failing clutch when I bought her. I babied the clutch for almost a year, and then S. replaced it. She still runs like a champ, 240,000 miles notwithstanding. And the Golf. We all know about the trials and tribulations of Mary Margaret. (If you don't, feel free to check the archives.)

Why this long-winded recap? Because I've done it again. Call me an automotive Florence Nightingale, I just can't help but want to nurse (worthy) cars back to health. My latest patient is Chico (so named by his former owner.) A 1999 Saab 93, he is suffering from a blown head gasket and has an electric window that won't roll down. Luckily, my friend Jerry is just about the best Saab mechanic in the Twin Cities, and Chico is in his capable hands even as we speak. I think that Chico has it in him to be great once more, he just needs some love. (his former owner left him for a new Mini.)

So Far the Braces Don't Suck

2006-04-25T23:40:00.000-05:00

It's been six days since I got braces, and I would have to say that so far they're very tolerable. The first couple of days I ate very soft, mushy foods, (I don't recommend pureed salmon and macaroni and cheese, by the way...) but it was as much because I had to learn how to eat with a mouthful of sharp stuff as because my teeth were sore. Since then I have been doing well, though I found out today that a well-frozen ice cream bar is more of a challenge than I would have thought. I ended up sort of slurping at it after I discovered that biting was out of the question, and had chocolate all over my face by the time I was finished. It was Cherry Garcia with a dark chocolate coating, though, so it was worth it.

I suspect that as the months progress and I am moved to less flexible bands I will have painful interludes, but at the moment I'm just asking myself why I waited for so long to get my teeth straightened.

So Much Depends Upon. . .

2006-04-20T07:44:00.000-05:00

I always think about that William Carlos Williams poem in the spring, especially after the first few days of rain, when the sun returns and everything looks new, washed clean.

A lot has happened. Who am I kidding? I so seldom update this blog that a lot has always had time to happen. Perhaps it's simply a matter of critical mass. I wait until I have enough to write about. But that's not really true. I'm sure I could write most days about all the little things. I'm just busy, or lazy, or simply otherwise occupied. Lately, the "otherwise occupied" has included the following exciting activities:

-Learning Dreamweaver. This is a program for creating web pages. It's much more counter-intuitive than some of the other programs that I've been working with, so it's an interesting and sometimes frustrating endeavor. I am also just beginning to use Flash. When I'm done with my project, I may post a link here, if I think that it's good enough for public consumption. I would not advise you to hold your breath☺

-Selling Mary Margaret, the 2000 Golf TDI that I posted about last fall. We finally got her up and running in February, after S. rebuilt part of the engine. (I was afraid that she wouldn’t rise again until Easter, having been owned by a priest for most of her life.) I'm happy to say that she went to someone in Madison, WI who was thrilled to buy her. I'm sad to see her go. She was very cute, and, with her peppy turbo, fun to drive. She was, however, a 2-door, which drove me nuts, and my dear brother had some reservations about V dubs in general. He is, after all, a BMW guy. And soon, I may return to the fold, (it's always a good idea to buy something your family is willing to fix...) if I don't find a good little station wagon first. Alas, Lola the Corolla wagon is pushing 240,000 miles, and though we don't like to talk about it in front of her, she has some very weird noises coming from her rear end. (maybe a wheel bearing?)

-Adoring my new niece. Born on February 28th, she has already grown and changed so much. The "baby blog" link in the sidebar is for my mom's photo blog of K.Q.

-Cleaning up my gardens. So much has already started to come up. My Bleeding Heart is in bloom! Family readers of this blog will know that bleeding hearts hold a special significance, because Gram always had one growing by the front sidewalk. Every time I look at the bush all summer long I am reminded of her love and strength. It's a good thing.

-I will be getting my braces on today, at long last. I was almost through with my spacers when I ended up in the hospital in December. After that I didn't feel up to a new challenge, so S. removed the spacers (at the orthodontist's go ahead) with a tweezers. Now that I'm feeling better, it's time to get this show on the road. It will probably be a good source of blog-fodder.

Well, I have homework to do, so I'll sign off. I will probably post a follow-up on the braces. There's only one way for you to find out, gentle reader, and that's to check back here☺

Happy Valentine's Day! (Two Months and Counting)

2006-02-14T10:05:00.000-06:00

I realized yesterday that it has been two months since I was hospitalized. I still don't feel truly well, and long for the day that I will. For the last week or so I have been reading a daily digest compiled of e-mail from others with Factor V, and I'm thinking that I might stop. For every person who is doing well with treatment it seems there are two others who have had horrible reactions to the blood thinners such as hyper-coagulation and skin necrosis. I realize that this is the nature of such lists: those who are feeling well are out there living their lives, not in search of answers on the web.

I had a CT scan a week and a half ago, and it showed that I still have clots in my lungs, though they're much smaller than they were, and "are thought to be going away" according to my Dr. I was hoping that they were already gone. After all, the clot in my calf had dissolved in a couple weeks. I guess that two months is a tribute to how large the emboli in my lungs really were.

In regards to living one's life-- I'm not sure if it's because of being off birth control or what have you, but I am having an especially weepy and melancholy PMS episode this month. It's no fun at all. I'm also struggling to stay motivated in school even though I have a lighter load this semester. At least I'm feeling somewhat well, attending classes, working two (very) part time jobs, and trying to keep my paranoia in check. I was a healthy, marathon-running person before all this happened, and I will be again.

Playing "Telephone" with Doctors

2006-01-24T09:40:00.000-06:00

So the Friday before last a little piece of one of my back molars (ironically, the only one that has never had any dental work) chipped. My first thought, as any rational person's would be, was: Oh My God! What if I swallowed a splinter, and it scrapes the lining of my stomach or intestine and I hemorhage? Upon calmer reflection, I decided that internal bleeding from a chip of tooth smaller than a Pop Rock wasn't all that likely, but that I definitely needed to call the dentist and have him check it out.

*Let me just add here, as an aside, that I love my dentist. He does great work, has a marvelous sense of humor, hates G.Dub, and admitted not long ago that Talking Heads is one of his all-time favorite bands. His staff is also very cool. As someone who spent the first 18 years of my life being terrified of dentists, I feel very lucky to have found divine Dr. K.*

So anyway, I set up a brief appointment for last Thursday so that Dr. K could have a look at my tooth and also discuss the ramifications of blood-thinning drugs on dental procedures. He said that it looked like a small filling would be needed, and that he has many patients on Coumadin and didn't feel that it would be a big deal, but that I should definitely check with my medical doctor to make sure that everything was kosher. We scheduled an appt. for this Tuesday (today). I called my clinic, found out that my doctor wasn't in, but would be on Friday, and left a message to have either her or the nurse call me back. Friday came and went. Yesterday I called the clinic again, and left another message. While I was in class, I received two messages from one of the nurses. The first one said that I needed to go off the Coumadin for five days, but then she said that she had to clarify when during that time I was supposed to have the dental work done. The second message said three days before my filling, and then stay off for the two days after the filling was done. I called back and talked to the nurse, and she reiterated the information, but wasn't sure what the risk was for going off Coumadin for five days since I've only been on it for about 6 weeks. Later I got a phone message from the Dr. herself, asking if perhaps I could just hold off on the dental work for 6 months. That irked me, since I have told her in the past that I will have to be on Coumadin for at least 9 months, and possibly for the rest of my life. I know, I know, she sees a lot of people, but jeez, check your notes! Anyway, this morning I went to the clinic to have my INR checked, and managed to talk to Dr. T's nurse directly. Much to my amusement, she wrote down my questions and information, walked around the corner to talk to the doctor, (I could still hear her voice) and then came back to give me the answer! Why couldn't the doctor just poke her head out and give me an answer? Why play telephone? Anyway, it now sounds like it won't be too big a deal to get the dental work done-- I just need to not take the Coumadin for 1-2 days before hand, and then resume that evening after my appointment. Simple, right?

So Far, So Good

2006-01-21T09:41:00.000-06:00

Well, I'm glad to say that I made it through my first day back at school. I had a strange moment on the drive up when we were in four lane traffic and my husband was listening to a podcast and I had to ask him to turn it off because I felt a little floaty and over-stimulated. After that it got better, and going to class was pretty easy, though I did feel tired towards the end, which was somewhat absurd, since it's only an hour and fifty minute class! I even parked in my normal spot, and didn't feel too out of breath on the walk to Keihle. I'm a bit more concerned about the trek to Riverview, since it's much farther from my parking spot, but I think that if I give myself enough time, and make sure not carry anything heavy at first, (I'm not bringing my backpack to schooI, just my three-ring binder) should be okay. I do think that as the semester progresses I will feel stronger and better, so it's really only a matter of getting past this first month or so.

After class we met up with Mom at a local coffee shop, which was nice. It turned out to be a pretty good day.

Where Do I Go From Here?

2006-01-19T13:15:00.000-06:00

So I've been home from the hospital now for a month. I take 4mg of Warfarin (generic Coumadin) a day, and have my INR (length of time it takes my blood to clot) tested once a week. I was back in the emergency room on January 2nd with a rapid heartbeat, which the ER Doctor thought might be due to the last bit of the clot in my leg letting go and traveling to my lungs, since an ultrasound done at that time showed the clot in my left leg to be completely gone. I was pretty upset about that, as my general practitioner had told me specifically that no such thing would happen. They sent me home and told me to "take it easy." I more or less stayed in bed for the next four days, appetite-less and feeling like crap, and had all sorts of bad dreams in which I had other, more bizarre health problems. I think in one I was told that I would have to have surgery at the State Fair if my condition(?) couldn't be brought under control. These nightmares were so vivid that I would have to wake myself up fully, usually by getting up and walking around for a bit, so that I could sort out my reality from the dream. I'm still having the occasional nocturnal visitation by freak maladies and impending surgery. I can only hope that they go away sometime soon.

I went to the hematologist last week. He told me that he thought it was highly unlikely that my rapid heart beat had been indicative of my leg clot embolising, since only new clots embolise, and the blood thinners should have prevented any from forming. He also said that he felt that two weeks was a long enough period of time for the clot to dissolve on its own. He recommended that I get a follow-up CT scan to make sure that the emboli in my lungs had resolved themselves, and told me that it was possible that I would have to be on Warfarin for the rest of my life, a discussion that will be continued in October when I return to his office. Oh, and he told me to get on with my life: go back to school, work, travel, have babies some day (pregnancies are high-risk for someone with a Factor V Homozygous Leiden, and involve blood-thinning shots and extra attention to timing) and that I could probably go back to running, provided that I wear supportive shoes to keep from bruising my feet. That said, with as tired and out of shape as I have been feeling lately, it'll be awhile before I attempt another marathon. I would settle for running my errands without feeling completely drained of energy.

School starts again tomorrow. This semester I only have three classes, which at the moment I consider a plus. With as many undergraduate credits as I have, there aren't many things offered that I still need to take. I'm a little wary of going back, of the daily commute, of my own propensity to worry beyond reasonable limits. As a friend pointed out, though: I can choose to drop classes, but not start them late. So wish me luck, and more stamina that I currently feel able to count on.

If I may wax cheesily poetic: Oh, hurry up, Spring, in whose sap-wakening days I can't help but be buoyed by green dampness and the return of evening light.

What I Did on my Christmas Vacation

2006-01-05T05:50:00.000-06:00

View from the 11th Floor of Fairview Riverside Hospital

So in my last post I was nattering on about how even when I'm unlucky I still manage to be fortunate. Consider that foreshadowing for my current predicament. On December 12th I was at school with nothing more on my mind then getting through finals week in one piece... So when I realized that I was having a lot of difficulty breathing, and that my heart was tripping over itself, I was almost as surprised as I was frightened. The paramedics thought I was having a panic attack at first, since my symptoms were similar, but once I told the EMT that I had been having shortness of breath for several days, and he realized that I wasn't able to lower my heart rate, I was on my way to the St. Cloud Hospital Emergency Room with oxygen and an IV, wondering what in the world could be wrong with me.

What Was Wrong With Me

When I got to the ER the Doctor, who looked remarkably like Mr. Big from Sex in the City, put me on a saline drip and had an EKG done. My heart rate was 130 beats a minute. My breathing was much better with the oxygen, so I was quite a bit more comfortable, but still pretty shocked to find myself hooked up to a bunch of machines in an emergency room. I kept thinking about the class I was supposed to have the next day, and that if I wasn't there the Prof had threatened to dock me attendance points. A chest x-ray was performed, and showed that I didn't have fluid in my lungs, ruling out pneumonia. The Doctor then told me that the next possible culprit was pulmonary emboli-- blood clots in my lungs, and said that he wanted to do a CT scan. The CT scan showed that I had multiple clots in both lungs, which is pretty damn serious. I was put on a Heparin (blood thinning drug) drip. I finally managed to reach my husband sometime after this, and it was when I heard his voice that the reality of my circumstance began to sink in-- up until that point I had kept my game face on, but all at once I realized that my condition was life-threatening, (and that I would certainly not be going to my Tuesday class.) He said that he would get to the hospital as soon as possible-- not an easy feat when leaving Minneapolis for St.Cloud during evening rush hour. As it was, he arrived shortly before I was to be transferred to Fairview Riverside hospital in Minneapolis, and so basically got to follow the ambulance back to the cities. All during the long and swaying ride I was comforted by the distinctive set of the Jeep's headlights shining in at me through the rear window of the transport.

Hospital Life

I was admitted to Fairview Riverside, the closest hospital to my house, at about 10 pm on the night of Monday, December 12th. For the next week I was a resident of the 11th floor Surgery and Telemetry wing. I was on telemetry for the first few days, so that my heartbeat, still more rapid than usual, could be continually monitored. The leads for the monitor were attached at 5 points to my torso, and once removed left itchy marks that remained even after I went home. I was also on oxygen, as well as a twice daily shot of a blood thinner called Lovenox, and 5mg of Coumadin. The first full day that I was in the hospital an ultrasound was done of both my legs; the radiologist found that I had a clot in my left leg from the back of my knee to the middle of my calf. It was from this clot that my emboli had originated. The cause? My birth control, the Nuva ring, combined with a previously undiagnosed genetic blood condition called Factor V Homozygous Leiden (actually, this test didn't come back until after I left the hospital, but it was, indeed, the cause). I'm glad to say that all of the hospital staff that I came in contact with during my stay were wonderful and caring, especially the night nurses and the third year resident assigned to my case. Dr. P. was wonderful, being one of the somewhat rare breed of doctor who is able to give one an accurate understanding of their circumstance without scaring the bejesus out of them. The first year resident, on the other hand, wasn't so tactful, and reduced me to tears (after she left the room) by telling me how lucky I was to be alive. That was a bad day.

My husband was wonderful, managing to get home to feed our dogs twice a day, and every night uncomplainingly arranging his 6'5" frame on an uncomfortable roll-away bed in my hospital room. I was also blessed to have the loving support of friends and family, especially my Noona, who was only a phone call away whenever I needed her, and drove up from Chicago to stay with me for several days when I was released. My brother arranged to have my car picked up from St. Cloud State, and my Mom and Moggie ferried it back to Minneapolis. My Dad came and sat with me, and brought me a lovely bouquet of pink roses. I had several calls from my Mother-in-Law, as well as calls from my sisters, friends, and even my husband's Grandma. Flowers arrived from several people, including an arrangement of lilies from my husband's workmates, chosen specifically, he was instructed to tell me, to match the lily bulbs that we gave as favors at our wedding this summer. An old friend brought his dog to visit, and also carry-out soup from Quang Deli, quite a treat after nearly a week of bland hospital fare. Throughout the whole experience I was touched and humbled by the love and care I received.

Finally, I was weaned off of supplementary oxygen, my blood was judged adequately thinned, my husband was taught how to give me Lovenox shots should I need them, and I was discharged. I was scared to go home, where there would be no pulse oxymeter to tell me that my heartbeat was normal and my oxygen saturation up to par. Even though I wasn't a fan of the 5:30 am blood draw and vitals check, I also found it reassuring. It was hard to leave the safety net behind and venture back into the world with a body that seemed so much more fragile than the one I thought I had.

I Thought It Would Hurt More

What was amazing to me throughout my whole ordeal was that even though I was apparently in a very perilous circumstance, I was never in pain. My heart was beating hell bent for leather and I couldn't catch my breath, but I wasn't aware of real discomfort, only that I was scared. Up until this happened, I had always thought that I would know if I were in real danger because I would be in great pain. Not so. In a way, the realization that I could be in dire straits and not even know it was as shocking and scary as everything else.

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Driver

2005-12-07T11:10:00.000-06:00

I've been driving from South Minneapolis to St. Cloud and back five days a week for almost a semester now, and lately the weather has kicked up a notch in the slipping, blowing, and drifting departments. I wrote "loneliness" above, but really the feeling that I sometimes get when making this commute is angst. Anger that other drivers are whipping past me at what I consider highly inappropriate speeds given the road conditions. Fear that the next semi to barrel around my trusty (yet kinda wimpy) little Corolla station wagon is going to inadvertently push me into the ditch. Weariness that I am wasting 2 1/2 hours a day in the car that I could be spending on homework.

Something happened yesterday, however, that gave me a much brighter outlook. My car blew a tire on the way to school. This may seem to be a not terribly positive event, but let me say this: it could have been SO MUCH worse. Consider the following:

1. It was a rear tire, not a front tire, so the car remained in control.
2. It was after rush hour, so traffic was light.
3. The roads were dry, which was a good thing. It has been a fairly icy week.
4. I was still in Minneapolis, so I was able to take the next exit, and thus not be stuck with a flat on I-94.
5. I called my brother and he was able to direct me to an alignment shop where they put my spare on for me. (I could have changed it myself, but it was dang cold out!)
6. All in all, it took me less than an hour to get back on the road. (though by that time I had missed my class.)
7. My husband had a friend at work who drives the same type of car I do and happened to have a set of rather nice snow tires that he had decided not to use this year. When he heard what had happened he offered to lend/sell them to us. We picked them up last night and hubby put them on my car when we got home. AND when he took the car for a test drive he also filled my gas tank!

All in all, it was a very good experience; one that made me feel like a pretty lucky person, indeed.

The Hunt for Re-Boxed Turbos

2005-08-22T13:06:00.000-05:00

Sorry, sometimes I can't help reeling in the lamest puns imaginable.

I am in the process of buying a 2000 Volkswagen Golf TDI (diesel engine). Though I am getting an amazing deal by purchasing through a wholesale connection of my brother's, this is still a somewhat anxiety-provoking situation: I have never driven the car. In fact, at the moment the turbo is completely blown and the car is inoperable. It sounds like I will probably end up putting at least $1000 into the equasion on top of the sales price before the car will be road-worthy. Sigh. I'm still getting the car for a very good price-- even with the necessary repairs it will be much less than it would have been through normal channels, which I truly appreciate. I think that once the car is running everything will be great, but in the mean time, as I call Volkswagen dealers and aftermarket car parts businesses, hoping to find a rebuilt turbo or a rebuild kit for the turbo that we currently have, it just feels like the antithesis of immediate gratification. Of course, it does give me something to do as a count down the days left at work. My desk is littered with cryptic post it notes such as 'AAA auto- no t. may have 2001 body- c/b tomorrow' and 'St. C. dlr $100 less-- need gaskets?'

Later. . .

Yay! I just found out that the timing belt was replaced not long ago, so that's one maintenance issue we don't have to worry about that for quite awhile. I also found out that a local salvage yard has a replacement cup holder, ash tray cover, and hub cap available, for much less than the dealer price on the same items. I am feeling a great deal more bouyant about the whole situation. I also found out, to my surprise, that the car, which was very dirty on the inside, was traded in by a priest! Hmph. Not what we had guessed at all. Well, let this be a lesson that, um, priests are slobs too.

Now to get the turbo fixed and the car running! And what should I call this new car? Write in with your suggestions.

Stepping into new territory (again)

2005-08-19T08:30:00.000-05:00

After the wedding, after the honeymoon, (still writing thank you notes) life keeps shifting into new topography. Not the relationship aspect, which seems to be very much as it was, as it has been, since we first met. This is a good thing. I think we began as we meant to go on.

No, what is different is the long-term plan. Having one. And also that the plan starts now. So in order to create this life that we are looking forward to living, a few points need to be re-mapped. Thus, I am going back to college. This is exciting-- it's been seven years since I graduated. I have a completed degree and minor as it stands, but now I am going to practice what I used to preach while working as a college admissions counselor. I am going to build on what I have already done, what I enjoy. My English minor will become a major in Applied and Rhetorical Writing. My BFA in Printmaking will gain a Graphic Design emphasis. I hope to make it through in a year and a half.

Giving notice to my boss at the mortgage brokerage was difficult for many reasons, none of them unexpected or worth detailing. I purposely gave more than two weeks so that they would have time to post my position, and with any luck hire someone. I now understand why people give only two weeks. I don't mind this job, but I'm having a VERY HARD TIME being here. My mind has kaleidoscoped away from the minutia of loan applications, and concentrating on the details of a potential borrower's 2003 W2's is as easy as tap dancing in roller skates. I know it can be done, but I really have no desire to be the one doing it. And unlike roller tap dancing, I don't especially like to watch loan applications being processed, either. It's a much more subtle talent, let's say.

September 2nd, my beloved last day on this job, you cannot get here fast enough.

From here you can walk to the light rail

2005-08-04T22:25:00.000-05:00

One of the advantages of living in East Nokomis is the fact that the Hiawatha Line light rail (currently the only rail line in the Twin Cities) runs along the eastern edge of the neighborhood. Connecting downtown Minneapolis to the Mall of America by way of the airport, the rail line doesn't offer fabulous variety destination-wise, but it has enticed us to travel downtown with more frequency by eliminating the need to hunt and pay for parking. (Not to mention the fact that I harbor a made-for-TV-movie-inspired fear of parking garages, which make up the bulk of downtown parking opportunities.)

Returning from our honeymoon in Canada earlier this week, we caught the light rail to 50th street, and then walked the mile home through a sea of late-night humidity so thick that we were both thoroughly sweat-soaked by the time we reached our front step. The Mr. was heard to grumble as we trundled our wheeled suitcases up and down curbs and over the bumps of the poorly lit sidewalk that being the closest relatives to the airport is a little like being the shoemaker's children.

When I promise infrequency, by God, I deliver!

2005-08-04T13:17:00.000-05:00

Well, here we are in early August, having fast-forwarded past all of the snow, home improvement projects that took place as we geared up to sell my Mr.'s bachelor house, and yes, even the endlessly fascinating wedding planning.

The snow has long since melted, the house sold after only three days on the market, and as of a week and a half ago, I have gained a husband, and thus, become a wife.

This has had very little effect on East Nokomis, at least so far as I have seen. It is possible that I will continue where I left off, so many months ago, telling about my neighborhood and its gems and dives, or maybe this blog will stretch in a new direction, even as I do the same. Until then, I remain your humble reporter, Lemony.

Mediocrity Night at Al Vento

2004-11-21T22:16:00.000-06:00

Last week we went to a restaurant called Al Vento for date night. We walked the few blocks-- the evening was unseasonably warm and misty. The type of weather that brings to mind the Pacific Northwest, inevitably causing Minnesotans to remark "if this were as bad as winter got, I would never think of leaving." Slug weather. We were celebrating the fact that I am once again employed, and trying to grab a little time before the onslaught of holidays and snow.

We have been to Al Vento twice before, and have found their food tasty and nicely presented. They are a recent addition to the neighborhood, having moved into a storefront on the corner of 50th Street E and 34th Ave S that was vacated when another restaurant, Marimar, closed their doors earlier this year. They are hoping to serve the same type of cuisine to the same people, for slightly lower prices. I wish them luck. Unfortunately, on this visit our experience was less than pleasant, due entirely to a waiter who was not up to the task. The food was good, the wine was excellent, and we will certainly go back. We would, however, wince to find ourselves in that particular server's section. Still and all, it is the only restaurant of distinction in the area, and if you come to visit I will probably take you there.

Why Would I Do Such a Thing?

2004-11-13T08:17:00.000-06:00

In the past I've resisted the urge to create a blog because I'm relentlessly ordinary. The blogs that I most enjoy are ones that have well-documented reasons to exist-- the life of someone working in a library, for example. What is unique about my existance AND interesting? What could I write about day after day? A list forms in my mind of possibilities:

Being thirty. Pros: I would only have to write about it for a year. Cons: What's to say? it feels a little like 29, and a little like I suspect 31 will feel.
My upcoming marriage in July 05. (My wedding dress is being shipped even as we speak, thanks to two fabulous fairy godmothers in Chicago!) An entertaining topic, as far as I'm concerned, but probably not so to anyone other than the womenfolk in my family and my wonderful future mother-in-law. And my fiance'. He swears he's interested in the minutia of our wedding, bless his big handsome heart.
A fan blog dedicated to my mother, Birdie the Ephemeral Florist. (twigsandbranches.blogspot.com) Again, great topic, but not very universal. . .
A chronicle of the fascinating lives of my pets, Wiley, Maisie, and Django. Ummm, nah. They're great and all, but they are private creatures, and probably don't like the idea of my spying on them in the backyard or litterbox.
My part-time job as a seller of footware in at a local outdoors store. Hunh. I might draw a strange sort of readership with that one.
My neighborhood. Hmmm. I live in area of Minneapolis, Minnesota, called Nokomis East. Our northern boundary is Minnehaha Creek. To the south is Highway 62 , known to natives as "the Crosstown," to the east Hiawatha Avenue (E. Nokomis is adjacent to an area know as Longfellow, where many of the streets are named for places mentioned in the poem 'Song of Hiawatha') To the west, as you may have guessed, is Lake Nokomis.

Okay, so maybe I COULD write about my neighborhood. In fact, it would actually give me a reason to visit some of the dive bars and goofy storefronts that I've never had a reason to venture into before. There's a bowling alley down the street just begging to be explored. The RAIN in SPAIN stays MAINly in the. . .you get the idea.

Of course, I suspect that the rest of my life will creep into these posts. My perspective as a thirty year old, soon-to-be married, pet-lover with an awsome present and future family can't be set aside. I'm sure that even my observations on footware and the people who love it will surface from time to time. I'm not even going to fight it too hard. You have to grow where you're planted, right? And I am, after all, planted on the banks of Minnehaha Creek.