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an olive oil picnic.

16 May
I escaped to the Cities this past weekend to spend time with friends and enjoy some of the comforts of the larger city. The highlight of the weekend was easily the trip to Stillwater on Friday evening. I worked in Stillwater for two and a half years, living there for one year and commuting for the other year and a half from St.Paul. After leaving the area, I have realized that I didn’t take advantage of the town. So much to do, places to go and good food to eat!
We started our Stillwater evening at the new Stillwater Olive Oil Co. on Main Street. I had heard rumblings of this magical place on facebook and thought it sounded like a new and different experience. We walked into the store and found ourselves surrounded by metal vats of balsamic vinegars and olive oils in all different flavors and varieties. I saw another customer drinking olive oil from a small test cup and worried this was a bad choice … eww? … but was soon proved otherwise. It was the coolest experience. We did shots of olive oil – lemon, garlic, basil, butter. We tested combinations of vinegars and oils … so delicious. I ended up walking away with a small bottle of blackberry ginger balsamic vinegar. After Sara dipped a piece of bread in a sample of this one, she exclaimed, “It’s like candy!” So good. I have never cooked/ate/bought balsamic vinegar before but I drizzled it over my strawberries and yogurt last night with rave results. It will make mighty delicious salad dressings as well.
After drinking some olive oil, we walked further down Main to the River Market Co-op to buy dinner from the deli. Three years ago, when I was in Stillwater, most of the sandwich choices they offer would have made me turn up my nose – turkey with avocado, tomato, lettuce and sprouts? In wrap form = delicious. We carried our picnic basket and our sandwiches to sit by the river and enjoy. It was the perfect evening to be outside and enjoying the water and each other. The evening was further perfected by ice cream at Nelson’s and a visit to the Gieseke family. I love Stillwater and vow to make it a place of regular visiting once I return to St.Paul in four months.

butter and saltine challenge.

9 May
After worship today, the youth board at Grace hosted a mother’s day buffet. It was very well received and it’s figured that we fed 200 people. That’s a great turn-out! The menu included meatballs and ham, potatoes, gravy, veggies, salads, bread and dessert. I heard many people say that the plates were not big enough!
They should have come back for more because there were leftovers. Bowls of salads. Roasters of meatballs. Pans of desserts. The board had planned for 200 to attend … but perhaps our idea of how much each of those 200 people would eat was a bit … off. Leftovers were packaged up and doled out to those who helped work and plan the meal. This is what I came home with:
Butter and crushed saltines. There were probably 12 take-out containers of butter on the counter and four and a half boxes of crushed saltine crackers. The crackers had – now prematurely – been crushed to make meatballs; had they not been already crushed, we could have returned them to the store but no luck.
I took the butter and the saltines with a challenge – using both ingredients, create a dessert for staff meeting on Tuesday. I accepted the challenge – really, I created it for myself but it was endorsed by my coworkers – and now I am accepting ideas/suggestions from you. A dessert including butter and crushed saltines … it’s on.
It kind of reminds me when Monica takes a job creating Thanksgiving recipes for mockolate … but not quite as severe. “This is what evil must taste like!”
(I’ve glanced at my favorite recipe website, allrecipes.com, and realize that this isn’t much of a challenge at all. With this recipe, what more is there to even think about? How delicious would this taste with coffee at 10am? And if I could make them into ball form, a la hamballs, oh how I would impress my coworkers. Golden.)

drinking habits.

6 May
I’ve developed a severe drinking problem since moving to Dawson.
Coffee, that is.
I drink coffee every morning. Sometimes I use the coffee pot. Sometimes I use my french press. Whichever route I choose, I tote my travel mug along with me to work each morning.
I can think of worse habits but I fear my head is growing far too accustomed to this caffeine intake each morning. I used to drink coffee once in a while and, while living in close proximity to Starbucks and Caribous, my intake was typically sugar-loaded expresso once or twice a week. So really, the switch to regular coffee is better for the pocketbook and sugar intake. Right?
Some days it isn’t just mornings though. After I eat a meal, I sometimes find myself craving a small mug of coffee. I had the most lovely Sunday afternoon at my supervisor’s house with his family and other guests for a lunch following his daughter’s first communion. After lunch there was coffee; it perfected the day. I made a tortilla black bean soup tonight. Then what? I made coffee to sip as I mapped out my latest quilting project – a t-shirt quilt for my sister, Emma.
I believe there are a few reasons behind this drinking habit —
First, lutheran peer pressure. I’m lutheran. I work in a church. Coffee is omnipresent like God himself … not really but are you drinking what I’m brewing? Coffee is around. Available. Begging me to drink it. A lot.
Second, my coffee-loving coworkers. Tuesday staff meetings have helped me tolerate and, I dare say, enjoy some strong, bold cups of coffee. (In any mug but the blue one – that one is Keith’s.)
Third, church functions. What church function in Grace Hall exists without coffee? Answer: None. A few Sundays ago, Dawson had no power for a few hours on Sunday morning. We were aware that this outage was to happen; it was a planned move by the power company. We could have worship in a church with no lights or microphones; we could make that work. But the big question: Could we hold worship when there would be no electricity to make coffee for fellowship following worship? Don’t worry; a member went through much effort to bring a generator to church in order that the church service could still be broadcast on the radio and there was space to plug the coffee maker in too.
Fourth, necessity. Sometimes I don’t get enough sleep and the caffeine intake needs to be raised. For example, when I sleep for two hours at a lock-in on a Friday night or when I refuse to go to bed until at least one more quilt square is cut.

rhubarb and spring.

28 Apr
I learned today of a mysterious rhubarb patch that is near my apartment building, apparently available and there for anyone in the apartment building. I hadn’t the slightest clue that this rhubarb existed until a congregation member, someone who doesn’t even live in my apartment building, told me about it.
Thus I came home and went on a rhubarb hunt with my kitchen knife.
I’ve always thought it was a small tragedy that when growing up on the farm, we had the largest rhubarb and asparagus patch, neither of which we ever ate in our house. Now I know that I love BOTH of the vegetables – apparently, I read that rhubarb is a vegetable? true? conspiracy? – and don’t have it so readily available as we did on the farm.
I found the illusive rhubarb patch … but was slightly disappointed. The stems are quite small … short … and I would need to pick an entire plant before I had much substantial to show for it. I still picked some and roasted the rhubarb so I can put it on yogurt. Maybe a rhubarb coffee cake for next week’s staff meeting?
On my little jaunt around the apartment building, I was struck by the different flowering trees which have suddenly came to light in the recent weeks – pink, red, and white – and was reminded how I love spring. The weather here has been so agreeable, so perfect. I’ve taken to walking to and from the gym and love the fifteen minute walk there and back in the cool night air. I wish the temperatures would remain in this range; I can do without 80 degrees and humid, which I’m sure is just around the corner.

lock-in #1

24 Apr
Reason: First Communion instruction
Attendees : five awesome fourth graders and two pretty cool pastors
The fourth graders came over after school on Friday and got settled in – unloading snacks, ditching sleeping bags, and generally running around. Our schedule for the night was pretty relaxed. We were working our way through the new Augsburg Fortress curriculum, Fed and Forgiven (which I give two thumbs up), along with baking communion bread, eating pizza, watching a few videos, and staying up a bit too late with HSM2.
While it was unfortunate that not all the fourth graders in the class could attend, the small group we had was great. They were a TON of fun as we discussed what Holy Communion means for us and as they got excited about joining the church at the table. Kendall did most of the teaching; I enjoyed my spot at the “school” table with the kids. I learned a lot through the instruction, whether a new way of thinking or many new resources that will serve me well in teaching and in a more practical way than some seminary classes.
Baking the bread was a cool thing for the fourth graders to do. At Grace, we’re wafer people; our body of Christ tastes a bit like cardboard. But next week, on first communion Sunday, we will use the bread that the fourth graders baked last night.

The other highlight of the lock-in for me was listening to the fourth graders recite their memory work. I’m not always a huge fan of memory work from an educational standpoint but I thoroughly enjoyed listening to all five of them at once say the Words of Institution and I think they found value in doing it as they learned what the words mean :
[On the night in which he was betrayed, our Lord Jesus took break, gave thanks, broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying “Take and eat. This is my body, given FOR YOU. Do this for remembrance of me.” Again after supper, he took the cup, gave thanks and gave it for all to drink, saying “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed FOR YOU and for all people for the forgiveness of sins. Do this for the remembrance of me.”]

taffying.

14 Apr
We cooked. We buttered. We pulled. We got sticky. We ate.
It was taffy day for my last release time class with my precious and never-attentive third graders. It was successful in that each of the fourteen darlings took home a bag of packaged taffy that they themselves pulled. It was a success in that they had fun. One could also call it a success because Lindsay maintained her sanity for the entire hour (and only a couple times had to count to three before speaking). Overall, it was a lot of fun – buttery, sticky, messy fun.
This is how it worked – my coworker Tammy helped me cook the taffy before we went to pick up the kids at 2pm. The taffy cooled and once the third graders arrived, they washed their hands, put on a paint shirt and buttered up. Hands need to be completely buttered otherwise the taffy sticks. Once their hands were good and greasy, I scooped up some taffy and instructed them to start pulling.
Then, for the next twenty minutes, I heard the following over and over:
“I need more butter!”
“Lindsay! Mine is sticking!”
“Am I done? What do I do next?”
“Can you get the piece I dropped on the floor?”
“I need help!”
Oh my. It was chaotic but in the most organized sense possible. It was a fun and unique way to end the year of release time. I’ll miss my third graders!
And the lesson is :

would you rather –

5 Apr
Last week was a bit on a crazy side. Holy week brought a weekend of five worship services and with the addition of two funerals, time was short and stress was high. But now, as I write this on the Monday of a new week, it’s evident that I survived! woot! I’ll speak more of holy week services in a later post but first, some new “firsts” which led to the following question from my supervisor :
Would you rather eat a hamball or preach a funeral sermon?
My first hamball: In this region of Minnesota, if there is a visitation preceding a funeral the night before, it ends with a prayer service. As the intern, the prayer services are my gig. I led a prayer service this past Tuesday night and then the husband – the same man who has taken to calling me “Pastor Sweet Pea” – invited me over to his house to join his family for lunch. (It was 8pm … “lunch” could mean anything except the noon-day meal.) Unable to say no to pretty much anything, I accepted the offer.
I arrived at his house and immediately was shooed into the lunch line. I grabbed myself a sandwich and a cookie. My host gave up his chair at the dinner table for me, I sat down and then someone behind me grabbed my plate and returned it to the table with an addition – a hamball swimming in chunks of pineapple and a mysterious sauce.
Now, I’m not blaming the cook but rather am simply questioning the ethics of it all. Ground ham in ball form? I ate it but will admit – as I texted my supervisor following the incident – I was “mildly disgusted.” This was something new to me and I’m not so certain I was a fan. Apparently, upon further investigation, I understand that the meat market in town sells the ground ham. As more people find out my general distaste towards the ball of pig, I grow worried that it will show up on my plate more often. Sarcastic threats of hamballs have been many from coworkers since the hamballing episode …
My first funeral sermon: With the planning of holy week services and writing of Easter sermons in addition to two funerals, I had my first opportunity to write and preach a funeral sermon. My supervisor typically preaches at all funerals but with the schedule of this week, it seemed to be a good chance for me to have the experience.
So here is what Lindsay does – Lindsay accepts such challenges with an optimistic mindset and then freaks out days later when she realizes what she needs to do and feels in no way equipped to do it. I felt very ill-equipped to write a funeral sermon; the words came very difficult for me. I knew very little of the woman or her family and that, for me, made it more of a challenge.

But you know what? I did it. I wrote it. I preached it. I received critique and feedback from my supervisor in the days preceding and after preaching, felt fairly confident about the message. Because the funeral took place on the Saturday before Easter, I spoke of Easter lilies and the symbol of hope in the resurrection that they convey. The sanctuary at Grace was decorated with lilies for the next morning and, it turns out, a lily was the flower that the family gave for the funeral. God was at work.
Which would I rather do? As a facebook friend wrote to me – the best of both worlds – “Convince the family to include hamballs in the funeral lunch to eat after preaching the sermon.” Jackpot.

church ladies’ eating habits.

24 Sep
I love the church ladies. Hands down, love them. They are wonderful and fun and full of energy … and desserts. I have helped them assemble the newsletter, tied quilts for Lutheran World Relief, drank coffee after worship, been invited to join for dessert after Bible study, and generally been with them a fair bit in the last four weeks. Man, do they know how to “lunch” and do their coffee breaks up right.
Example one: The ladies make quilts in the fellowship hall every fourth Monday of the month. The calendar says they start at nine so I showed up around 9:10. The calendar is false. These ladies were in full quilting swing by the time I walked through the door! I visited with the ladies who were pinning and sewing, ironing, cutting, and then the women who were tying handed me a needle and thread. I had no sooner made my first tie in the quilt when they announced, “Coffee’s ready!” They demanded I put my needle down and join them at the table. I hadn’t been there for but ten minutes and we were drinking coffee and eating deliciously warm coffee cake.
Example two: I was invited to a quilting group on Tuesday night by a member of Grace. I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to go but figured it would be a good adventure. I was picked up at 7 pm and after two hours of sitting around a table and looking at extremely elaborate quilts which I will never be capable of making, they started handing out plates and napkins. Nine o’clock at night and they announce it’s time for lunch. Lunch, what? Apparently, this lunch, three hours before my bedtime, is tradition for these parts and consisted of bars, peanuts, and coffee/juice.
Example three: Wednesday night was Women of Grace, an event for women to come to church and hear a speaker. We listened to the Southern speaker – with whom I bonded afterwards over suckering tobacco – and then, guess what, time for dessert and coffee. Any event at church is seriously followed with or includes dessert and coffee. Lunch, if you will.
Example four: There was a women’s Bible study group that met this afternoon at church. Lori and I had no part in the Bible study; they lead it themselves except for one study every couple months when a pastor steps in. We may not have had a part in the Bible study but there was dessert afterwards and so the women found Lori and I and invited us to angel-food-cake-and-raspberry- dessert time.
So how do they stay so thin? Ideas? Email me or comment here with your conclusion for their ability to maintain weight while eating pastries day in and day out, and I’ll include the responses in a future blog entry!
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