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Monday @ MISA.

22 Jul

Hello again from the island.

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It was a picture-perfect day on many accounts.  Classes began today.  There are three going on at the school this week – a painting course [with the hot instructor who again today only buttoned his shirt halfway], a writing course, and the one I’m taking.  What am I taking?  Good question.

I told people who asked before I came that it is a writing class.  That’s half true.  It’s writing and it’s art.  It’s all about journaling and honesty and creativity and approaching our inner-critic.  [You know, that voice that tells you you’re not good enough or your work sucks or you’ll never be as good as so-and-so.  We all have them.  Mine seems to come out a lot around my ministry so this is the perfect continuing education class for me.]  I’m not sure how it all comes together yet but we will learn one new art technique and one new writing technique each day.  It should be interesting and hopefully helpful.

If anything else, it is simply grand being here in this location.  Our class [held in the barn pictured above] ended around 3 this afternoon; we had free time to do practically anything.  We could have done our homework but me?  I took to the road.

There are a stash of bikes that hang out at the school.  First come, first serve.  I took one with a low seat; it was a cruiser, ie just one speed.  It’s a cool looking bike and I felt retro-awesome riding it but the one-speed aspect may have made the ride a bit harder than it needed to be.  Nonetheless, I took off.  I wasn’t entirely sure where I was going to go.  I turned left into the bike lane.

About 4.5 miles later, I ended up at Big Bay State Park.  I biked some more and when the roads ran out, I walked the trails alongside my bike.  A deer to the side of the path startled me and biting flies attacked me.  The view was stunning, as one can only imagine.  Four and a half miles back to the art school and my butt was beat.  It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden a bike – especially that far – and that seat was not super comfy the last couple miles.  That’s not saying it wasn’t worth it – it was.

I went into town for dinner and ended up at the same restaurant as my class instructor so we had dinner together.  [Plan A was to have my kindle as my date.  Conversation with an actual person was probably better.]  After that, I sat on a pier and watched the sun go down before returning to pajamas and last night’s Endeavour online.

Why can’t this be real everyday life?  *sigh*  Enjoying it while I can.

A Bavarian Blast.

21 Jul

I write from my private-room-shared-bath home for the next week at Madeline Island School of the Arts.  I haven’t been here long.  Since getting on the 6:30 ferry from Bayfield, I’ve unpacked and attended the wine and cheese party before coming back to my room to opt for comfy clothes and blogging.  My first impressions of the week to come?  This is not a place people my own age go. [One of the youngest people here.  Mostly retired folks.]  I share a bathroom with a woman named Bambi.  There are three classes going on this week; the instructor of the painting course is Spanish and attractive.  [Woman in my class says to me as he walks in, “I think we took the wrong class.  Our instructor didn’t walk in with a shirt half unbuttoned!”  … our instructor is also a woman.  Two older retired women I walked back to my room with said they were taking his class because he was cute.  Ha.]  Paul, a physics professor at Augsburg in Minneapolis is here while his wife takes a class; he offered to be my bike riding buddy.  And I’ve just been here for a couple hours!  I think there will be stories, folks.  Lots of stories.

Until more stories unfold, I must tell you about my day yesterday.  The Bavarian Blast in New Ulm.

New Ulm is about 1.5 hours from me.  I traveled there to meet my friend, James.  James is a friend from seminary, currently serving his first call in Pennsylvania.  He was in MN visiting his dad and en route to Iowa to visit his mom.  The Bavarian Blast in New Ulm seemed like the perfect place to reconnect.  Why not, eh?

What’s a Bavarian Blast?  Three stages of polka music.  Brats and strudel.  Beer.  Lots of guys with super white legs in lederhosen.  A viking.  A wiener dog race.  And – wait for it – people dressed as gnomes and morel mushrooms!  I kid you not.  It was an experience.  We ate lunch and enjoyed the polka music for awhile before leaving to explore more of New Ulm, including the downtown and the Herman the German statue.  [It’s a thing.]

Here’s what I walked away with: Friends are fun.  It was so great just to explore something new with a friend.  It was so great to laugh and catch up and hug.  I miss that – exploring random places and random events and having fun no matter the surrounding.  Le sigh.

Would I go to the Bavarian Blast again?  Eh.  It was $9 to get in.  $9 for three stages of polka music.  I could probably pass.  But make it an outing with a good friend and I probably wouldn’t put up too much of a fight. And the next time I would be sure to dance with a gnome.

HUGE tent of polka.
Can you see the gnomes and mushrooms dancing the chicken dance? I lament I did not join them. I could have danced with gnomes and instead, I let the opportunity pass me by.
Gnomes and mushrooms are friends.
Gnome!
The wiener dog race drew quite a crowd.
Herman the German.

Coffee with ladies and egg crafts.

26 Mar

After a busy Sunday morning of palm waving, hosanna singing, and personal care kit assembling, I went to the local care center to lead a worship service.  I gave them palms and then had coffee with a couple of ladies.  They fought and interrupted each other often.  [In the middle of one woman telling me about her great-granddaughter the other woman asked her loudly, “Are you going to get cremated?”]  It made me very uncomfortable.

Sunday night we [you know – we] gathered in our usual place at our usual time.  I was even early enough to read a story to a cute little almost-one year old before he went to bed.  We [you know – we] ate supper and then dove into egg crafts.  We had traditional dying on one end of the table [after we figured out what colors the pesky little tablets were] and filling hollow eggs with candy at the other.  It was egg-citing, egg-cellent, and an all around egg-ceptional time.

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game night (and an updated blog).

24 Mar

Three college friends – plus a spouse, a daughter, and a boyfriend – and I planned a night together last Friday.  We met in St.Paul and had only one goal : wear crazy hats.

It’s a game we played a lot in college and also in seminary.  The Great Dalmuti is its name and it requires crazy hats.  Friday night we had a lime green cowboy hat, an Arizona Wildcats foam hat, a bear headband, a hood, and my mother’s wedding hat from 1980.  Depending upon how well you do in each round, you may get to wear a really awesome hat or you may be forced to wear a really crappy hat.  [The wedding hat was declared to be the least great of the five; sorry, mom.]

We also played a little Spot It, ate pizza, and drank hard cider.  Our next get-together is on the calendar for May; we live too close to not get together more often and wear ridiculous hats.

As an aside, you may notice the blog looks different [again].  Surprise!  It was my sermon procrastination technique for Saturday night … I hope it’s easy to navigate and pleasing to your eyes.

I give thanks.

17 Feb

[I give thanks.] A post written in the rhythm of @UnvirtuousAbbey without the awesome humor and retweets. Read mine and then add your own. What do you give thanks for this day?

For a mandoline to quickly and uniformly slice sweet potatoes for the week, I give thanks. It’s like the guillotine. For yams.

For members who one day are seemingly against anything I say and the next day are the ones volunteering to pray and bringing bars of soap for our LWR care kits, I give thanks.

For completely sincere, supportive, and loving emails from a sincere, supportive, and loving friend, I give thanks. [That’s all you, broken mothership.]

For dark chocolate sea salt popcorn, I give thanks. For the P90x cardio dvd to offset the dark chocolate sea salt popcorn, I also give thanks.

For internet that finally works without powering down the router at church every six to eight hours, I give immense thanks.

For a double dose of The Bachelor this week, I will give thanks. [No judging. Sometimes the prospect of trashy tv gets me through my day.]

For Hannah who made me a tissue paper flower and helped me set up for worship, I give thanks. [Hannah -6ish years old- made tissue paper flowers with her grandma. Her grandma asked, “Who do you want to give this to?” certain the answer would be her mother. Unprompted, her response was Pastor Lindsay. I melt.]

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Your turn.

A Trip Advisor summary.

31 Jan

[A Trip Advisor summary.] I write this from my usual spot on the left side of the couch at the ROG parsonage; Mabel curled up to my right.  Paige and I de-trained in St.Paul this morning around 7:30 after – I can say – a pretty great ride home.  We upgraded to a sleeper car; the best $55 spent.  A sleeper car room meant that not only were we able to lay down flat at night but all meals and a wine tasting were included.  [That’s a $55 value right there.]  Along with that, there was a roomier and cleaner bathroom and our own porter, Darryl, who referred to himself in the third person and helped us with anything we needed.  [Darryl’ll do that, he told us about putting the top bunk down.]

It wasn’t easy getting on the train to come home; both Melissa and I started crying.  It’s been a year and a half since I’ve seen them; it was so great to be together again. I miss them and their little girls already.  It’s been a long time since I’ve spent so much time with babies and I loved it.  I am so grateful I had the chance to hold and rock and play with Hannah Grace and Harper Joy.  Grateful.

It was a great vacation and like all great vacations, it deserves a glowing review on Trip Advisor.  Do you know Trip Advisor?  It’s a website that reviews and shares information about hotels and getaways.  If I were to write a Trip Advisor summary for this vacation, it would sound like this:

Escape to rural Montana for a week of snow, good food, and wonderful friends.  Travel by train; experience luxury and wine tastings in the sleeping cars or suffer a miserable night in coach.  You will be greeted at the train station by Rev. Joel, Melissa, and their beautiful babies.  While in Montana, excursions to historic fort cities and underground passageway tours are available and recommended.  Much of your time will be spent comforting crying babies, feeding babies, dancing with babies, and holding babies [but that’s a big part of why you went in the first place].  Time will also be devoted to church-going, Bachelor-watching, and scone-eating. Cocoa Puffs, coffee with peppermint creamer, and hand-whisked orange juice are always readily available for guests.  Private rooms.  Laundry facilities available on-site.  A welcoming, loving, and reasonably-priced destination for your next winter vacation.

I give it five stars.

Here are the rest of the photos from the journey westward.  Photos include our Havre Under the Streets tour [Chinese laundromats, opium dens, bootlegging ghosts, oh my!], one last photo of the baby girls, and adventures on the train ride home.

The beginning of the Havre Under the Streets tour. Lorraine was our tour guide and she was awesome.
The Chinese Laundromat.
The opium den. I kid not.
The barber shop. [Quite literally, all of these are under the streets. There used to be a series of tunnels and businesses under the sidewalks of Havre.]
This is Shorty. Apparently he haunts the place. Or so Lorraine told us.
Melissa requested that I bake two things while I was there: scones and a cake. These scones were pretty delicious.
Wine and cheese tasting on the train ride home.
It was tiny – this is it – but worth it to be able to lay down.
“Disrobe first.” It makes sense; once you roll onto the top bunk, there is not much space to move around.

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life in MT.

29 Jan

[Life in MT.]

Yesterday, we went to a baby shower hosted by the churches Joel serves.
Miss Hannah banana
Hug someone today. Do it. I hugged babies.
I had the pleasure of hanging out with babies again. This trip is not good for my constant and always baby fever.
Incredibly precious.
Exploring Fort Benton along the river.
Our lunch destination in Fort Benton. Super delicious.
We made a sinfully chocolate cake to enjoy during our sinful two hours of television – The Bachelor.
I like my cake best with milk.

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Hello from MT!

27 Jan

[Hello from MT!] Above photo credit due to Rev. Paige who tried diligently today to get the perfect panoramic photo of big sky country.

Paige and I made it to the grand state of Montana yesterday afternoon. We were greeted by twin girls and their parents. Once we retrieved our luggage from a wagon [literally – a wagon pulled by an ATV] we were off and thankful to no longer be on a train.

While we can credit the train with safely getting us to our destination of Havre, MT, train travel is not nearly as glorious as I dreamed it would be. Our first clue should have been the AMTRAK station in St.Paul, where there are signs hung on the walls with duck tape. The next sixteen hours would be tolerable, but would not rank high on the scale of enjoyable.

We got on the train at midnight and found sleep hard to achieve. The seats were hard. Our foot rests didn’t work properly. I tried a round of trying to sleep on the floor and while I was able to sleep, I feel like my back paid for it in pain. Once the sun came up, things became a bit more glamorous. We ate breakfast in the dining car and hung out in the observation car. Paige was smart and had loaded a few things to watch on her iPad; we watched those. We met fun people, including Rhonda, a train employee from Chicago, who gave wonderful announcements over the loud speaker about sinks clogging in the restrooms.

Glorious or not, we are happy to be in MT. So far our time with Joel, Melissa, Hannah, and Harper has included supper at a diner and grocery shopping; a walking tour of Big Sandy and enjoying the sunshine; watching television and Pitch Perfect; and holding, feeding, and loving two little two-month olds. The next three days may be more of the same with some church, scones, and the Bachelor thrown in, which all sounds very well and good to me.

North Dakota – the least boring side.
Observation car.
My train project: trying my hand at embroidery. #newcraftyskill
Paige [the baby whisperer] reads to baby Harper.

A Banana Wedding.

20 Jan

[A Banana Wedding.]  Are you finding this blog okay?  Are you adjusting to the switch?  I dearly hope so because one of the fun reasons I switched is to write a post like this – a gallery of photos!  [Click on one photo to scroll through the rest.  How fun!]

These are photos from one of the most sincere, most laid back, most fun and non-traditional weddings I’ve been a part of to date.  Congrats to banana Kay and Peter who both seem so incredibly happy!  [For those interested in the inside details of the Dancing Banana bunch, the banana dance was also performed.  We stood surrounding Peter, sang, danced, mashed, and thereby inducted him into the Banana group as an H. Banana.  Husband/honorary Banana, that is.]

Rehearsal. Only Kay would be on crutches for her wedding day. She rode down the “aisle” on a bellhop cart and was carried back down the “aisle” by Peter at the end of the ceremony.
Bridal suite preparations. Note the brace on her left foot.
I promise this small child is not drinking beer. Well, root beer. A handful of Banana kids.
Meet Joe. Joe is an H. Banana. Joe had my camera during the ceremony. This was a “test” photo … I guess.
Pre-ceremony. Note the paper airplane in Lynn’s hand. It doubled as the program and the send-off for the couple as everyone flew them as they walked down the aisle.
The groom … waiting …
It’s blurry. But I still wanted to share. The couple smiled and laughed the whole way through. [Especially when I accidentally said “her” instead of “him” and Domanic couldn’t get the rings off the knot that somehow appeared.]
There were donut holes! The spiffed-up Banana kids loaded up!
Six Bananas + a space for our seventh, Allison, who lives in TX and couldn’t be with the bunch.
I realized last night how much I miss these classy ladies.
Post-Banana dance.

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bye for now.

22 Dec
My Grandpa Sid [affectionately Geeps, Gpa, Popsicle and many other terms of endearment] died last night.  He had been on hospice for many months and just in the last week moved into an assisted living facility.  He was 91 and pretty awesome.
I’ll always remember as a child, together with a brother or cousin or something, Grandpa pushing us down an icy hill as we sat cross-legged in a metal bushel basket.  He’d give it a good twist before letting us go too.  I know – it doesn’t sound safe and it likely wasn’t, but, boy, it was fun for a little kid.  Such is farm life.
I remember him always walking to the bookshelf to get the atlas whenever I was at his house visiting. We’d have to look up my flight pattern to Africa or find out exactly where Dawson is or discuss the route I was taking to Alaska.  He liked that atlas.
I remember him always leaving after communion during church if the sermon was too long.  Preachers – take note.  He didn’t understand why church should take longer than an hour and breached the topic with me many times once I was ordained.
I’ll remember the way his laugh was practically silent when you got him laughing really hard.  It was usually the boy brothers and boy cousins who could get him going.  Oh, and the way he always responded when you asked him how he was.  Pretty good, *insert name of person asking*, pretty good with a gentle head nod.  It’s become a bit of a catch phrase in the family; I remember even getting a little Logan to say it on repeat.
Oh, Grandpa, with your pinstripe overalls and tight script handwriting.  He was a pretty great penpal too.  He sent me a birthday letter just a few weeks ago with the latest happenings.  His closing is pretty perfect too.  Bye for now.  Sounds about right, Gpa.  Bye for now.

ps. here is a post I wrote in August about the cuteness of Gpa.

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