back to work.

14 Jul
Often time, returning to work after a vacation is a tough deal. You feel like you need a vacation that follows your initial vacation to recover first. You hate the thought of going back to the mundane, punching the clock, returning to the cubicle, blah, etc. As I said previously, I was ready to go back. Sure, I could have used a few extra hours of sleep, a chance to do laundry, but all in all, Monday morning was okay by me.
We had a staff planning meeting on Monday. Mapping out the next year’s big events, putting dates on the calendar. Eating coffee cake brought by Tammy. Drinking coffee out of a cute carafe. Laughter. Evaluating and creating programming. Subway for lunch. (Dawson has a Subway now! It’s a popular place.) It was a beautiful day so Kendall declared we would ride bikes there instead of drive. (He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond as he announces, “Lindsay and I are biking there.” We are? *shrug* Okay.) Nothing like the two pastors of Grace Lutheran Church cruising down Hwy. 212 on bikes. I won’t be here next year when these events that they are planning happen so that was a little strange. I listened, input dates onto the google calendar, and was content to watch the process unfold with an occasional comment.
Then yesterday was the organist’s birthday, an event that couldn’t be passed by without cake, a late night of fellowship and a hymn sing. An organist near a piano with fellow church dwellers begged for nothing different. Tales about a Kirby vacuum and a few “for hopeless” moments were bonuses. Lemons too.
Now, in writing the previous two paragraphs, I realize it has little to do with the work that I do but the people with whom I work. Maybe that’s what made me okay with coming back. Work hasn’t been disappointing either – productive days of camp planning, stewardship survey compiling, beginning those little paper and project hoops required by seminary to complete internship. Here’s to more work tomorrow!

va-cay.

14 Jul

I had a week of vacation and it was good. Kind of like what these guys think of the grass – good.
The main event was a few days in Colorado with my mother, visiting my older brother who recently moved to Fort Collins. This mini-break was sandwiched between nights in the Cities with college friends and Stillwater friends. Wonderful.
My mom and I met up at MSP (She flew in from Madison.) and then enjoyed the wonders of the airport with our three hour waiting game/delay. Board the plane, get off the plane. Here’s a meal voucher, just kidding, time to get on the plane. We stayed in Fort Collins with my brother at his apartment and gave it a feminine touch; we rearranged furniture, cleaned, and shopped for necessary household goods. We spent time in Old Towne, a great touristy, mill-about part of town with restaurants and shops. My brother booked us a tour at the New Belgium Brewery which was, if I do say so, a highlight of the trip. I don’t normally drink beer but the tour was a ton of fun, complete with a slide and costumes! We took a day and drove to Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park. I’d never before been to the mountains so the drive into 12,000 feet above sea level was quite the sight (and cold). Good trip.

I spent time with Amanda (my college roommate) and drank coffee with Joe (her husband). Along with college friends Kara and Julia, I went to the sculpture gardens in Minneapolis, played Bananagrams, and sat by the pool. Stillwater Sara and I laughed our butts off to The Big Bang Theory on dvd, sampled olive oil, and went to drive-in church. I saw and hugged many former coworkers in Stillwater and learned that a second of the Gieseke clan might be joining me on campus at Luther in the fall. (Between Karen and Adam being possible classmates and most certainly lunch dates, I think God is showing me that moving back to St.Paul won’t be so bad.)
It was a needed and splendid week away from Dawson but I was happy to return. I had a ton of fun but was ready to not live out of a laundry basket or airplane carry-on anymore. I was ready to sleep in a bed and not on a couch. I was ready to … go back to work? There. I said it.

va-cay preview.

8 Jul

We visited Rocky Mountain National Park today, we being my mom, brother, myself, and this little guy. We’ve been enjoying Colorado, the cool temperatures, and the mountains. My mom, brother, and brother’s roommate are currently watching a movie – a movie I consider scary on my wimpy scale – so I’m on the computer. (I don’t do scary, esp. when sleeping somewhere other than the security of my own bed.) My mom and I fly home tomorrow evening and then I’m off to St.Paul/Stillwater for a weekend with friends. More blog to come!

four-ph of July

5 Jul
“He makes me melt like a popsicle on the four-ph of July,” Darla from Little Rascals
I did not melt on the fourth of July and can’t say I really ran across anyone who wanted to make me melt. (Though I did meet my friend, Kate, in Watertown because she wanted company when she saw Eclipse. I suppose it was a close call – shirtless Jacob would have made me melt if their theater hadn’t been so dastardly cold!)
I also thought about how I missed being in Edgerton for the fourth. Jenni’s annual fourth of July party. Allen’s birthday. Fireworks at Racetrack. Campfires. Those were the best nights, before we all moved away and grew up. Shucks.
I did have a good weekend though. I went to the explosive Fabric Warehouse sale in Willmar and came home with a few new projects to make. (Some of which I have already attempted and, yup, they have failed. Some epically, some not so badly.) I had dinner with a pair of congregation couples. Saturday was a good day.
Sunday I flew solo with worship, presiding at communion for the first time in regular Sunday worship. Now, technically, only ordained pastors are to preside at communion. There are a few outs to this and typically one only needs permission from the bishop of the synod and then all is well and good. We forgot to ask. Oops. Kendall was sure to give some advice regarding presiding at communion illegally, including (but not limited to) standing on top of the altar to avoid the congregation even realizing that I am not ordained (because they would instead be thinking something else) or standing beside the altar so as to avoid the lightning bolts God would send to smite me. I stood behind the altar (as one should) and survived. The entire service actually went off without a hitch. phew. I can do this.
I think I’ve been a bit burned out of late and last night was proof of it – I went to bed at 8pm and woke up at 10am this morning. (There was a brief period of time at 4:30am where I was wide awake … but then dead asleep again shortly.) Further prescription for my burned-out nature – I’m on vacation this week! I’m heading into the Cities today, hopping on a plane with my mother tomorrow morning and flying to Colorado to visit the older brother. Blog posts to resume next week!

Dear Father Time,

1 Jul
SLOW DOWN. I am refusing to acknowledge that today is July 1st. It cannot be possible. Unfeasible. Maddening. Why?
I worked at a campground for many summers of my life. The perfect summer job (except for cleaning the bathrooms – could have done without that). July 4th weekend was our second of three holiday weekends in the summer. It marked the halfway point of the summer for all practical reasons. If today is July 1st (I refuse to admit the truth in the statement.), July 4th is but days away. Summer is nearly half over. Not cool, Father Time, not cool.
July and August. That’s all that remains of my year-long stay in Dawson. Two months. I probably wouldn’t have said so last November, but this year has flown. As I was grinding my coffee beans this morning, so engrossed in the morning routine and familiarity of my life in Dawson, I realized that I hate the thought of uprooting again. The packing. The adjusting. Ick.
The goodbyes. The final evaluations. The leaving.
So, Father Time, if I may, just put in this request? Maybe to feel as if there are a few extra hours in the day. The ability to enjoy my days to the fullest. Extra laughs, learning experiences, and new adventures. A slow, lingering, extended two months. Please?
Sincerely,
Sweet Pea

today’s list.

29 Jun
Wear a gray t-shirt that I fashioned in this style under a favorite yellow cardigan? Check.
Converse via email multiple times with a friend who always makes me feel good about myself? Check. (As friends should … and even if she does live in Texas.)
Watch New Moon in anticipation of Eclipse tomorrow with Emily and her daughter, Hannah? Check. (That’s right. We’re going to wait in line. It will be an adventure.)
Do a little bit of (fun) grunt work for Kendall to earn my time off and my way out of Wednesday night services in order to see Eclipse? Check.
Bake a strawberry rhubarb pie for our staff planning retreat on Thursday? Check.
Three mile run? Check. (5k, Cassie!)
Visit and do more socializing than actual work today at church? Check. (It’s hard to not be social when Harry, the man who calls me Sweet Pea, is working the food shelf across from my office for the afternoon.)
Have an overall pretty awesome day? Check.

jam.

27 Jun

I try to make strawberry jam each year as a throw-back and in honor of my daddy, with whom I made jam many-a-summer. Actually, correction: I would pick the strawberries and make the jam. My dad was always in charge of clean up and quality control.
I honestly don’t even eat jam but every once in great while. I make it and share it. With the 11 pounds of strawberries and two handfuls of rhubarb I picked, it was jam time. This afternoon I walked in the Riverfest parade with the Grace Lutheran float and afterwards, the stove, potato masher, and massive amounts of sugar were my friends.
I made three batches of strawberry and rhubarb jam. That’s 24 half-pint jars. Sixteen and a half cups of sugar. Mmm.

garden update.

27 Jun

Riverfest wkend.

27 Jun
Oh, the emotions I felt throughout Dawson’s summer festival, Riverfest, this past weekend.

Accompanied: I drove to Watertown on Friday morning to meet up with my friend, Kate, and then we were off to Brookings to pick strawberries. $1.19/lb strawberries! Afterwards, I convinced her to come back to Dawson with me to partake in some Riverfest activities. Yes! She bought pajamas and a toothbrush at Target and then hopped in the car with me; I had a friend to accompany me to the festivities!
Loved: I love walking down the street and having people, especially kids, say, “Hi, Pastor Lindsay” or stop me to have a conversation. It makes me feel like I belong here and that I’m loved … well. At least liked. Err, maybe acknowledged is the best term.
Awkward: Kate and I attended the new gnome unveiling on Friday night and it felt a bit like we crashed a family reunion. I’ve been in Dawson for ten months so I recognize names and know a good number of people through Grace but the roasting and toasting of Dick, the new gnome, seemed like a family ordeal at times. Dawson is kind of like a big family … everyone knows each other and pretty much everyone is related in one way or another. (Below: The new gnome, Dick, only minutes after is was revealed in a very anti-climatic manner with a black garbage bag. Can’t help but say I was anticipating more but, for the most part, the new gnome lives up to my expectations.)

Comforted: We visited Jesus at the cemetery before the fireworks. Nothing like a little high-five action with the Savior.
Disappointed: My decorated gnome did not win. sad face. But at least I entered.
Caffeinated: Both Kate and I bought the reverend gnome mugs. Perfect for coffee. (Apparently there are gnome mugs for nearly each of the gnomes in the park! If only I had known, I would have started collecting!)
Embarrassed: Kate and I entered the two-person blind lawn mower racing on Saturday morning. (I am so not joking right now.) I drove blindfolded and Kate sat behind me and directed me through the course. In my head, the course went right; it was a circle to our right. We started out and I don’t think I was even really listening to Kate who was saying, “Left. Left.” because I thought I knew where to go and that was right. Oh my. Kate didn’t stop me or tap me on the shoulder or anything … so we went in a circle. Our time wasn’t so great but we did make it though without hitting any of the orange markers, even with our detour. Great laughs were had by all at Lindsay’ inability to know which way is left/right and her inability to relinquish control and listen to her eyes.
Fulfilled: Good weekend.

suzy homemaker.

22 Jun
Tonight’s agenda: Sew apron. Bake pies.

Tomorrow night is a fundraiser at Grace for the young men going on a canoe trip to the Boundary Waters at the end of July. It’s a pie auction. I figured I would do my part and contribute a few pies, even if I am slightly bitter that I initially planned the trip but am unable to go on it because only males signed up to attend. (Over it. It’s okay. Still hope to canoe the BWCA some point soon.)

It was only fitting that I have an apron to wear while baking so that was the first thing I did when I arrived home. I fashioned myself a simple apron and then went to work creating my dutch apple pie with oatmeal strudel and chocolate pudding pie. They are both new recipes so I have slight anxiety allowing them to be auctioned off, not really aware of the quality and taste of them. I spruced the chocolate pudding pie up just a tad with some water, sunshine, and a canoe out of white chocolate to go along with the purpose of the evening.
Apron sewn. Pies made. Dishes done. All while wearing pearls.
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