As we walked along the river trail the other morning, we heard an unusual number of birds singing. The sound ramped up as we got closer to the hundreds of birds we could not see (except for a few in the treetops) but it sounded like a huge choir of birds, and not the normal bird songs one hears in the spring. Loud chirping was more like it. We took notice.
As we walked through this moment, we passed some walkers and they commented on the sound from the birds. I recognized one of the walkers as the orchestra conductor at St. Olaf College…I said to him as we passed, “I think the birds need a conductor.” His group also commented on the number of birds there must be to make loud “music” like that.
Gary and I continued on and all at once there was silence!
Not one bird sound. They all stopped at the exact same moment…for about five seconds.
Silence.
Then, just as quickly as they stopped, the birds resumed their singing again, loudly again. We looked at each other and Gary quipped, “They must have had to turn the page.” I laughed.
The conductor said he’d love to see all the birds take off at once. That would be a sight to see.
I do love birds…to watch them at the feeders and see them in nature, to admire their unique beauty and hear their sweet songs.
Recently, in my writing session, I learned about a new (to me) writing pattern… syllables crescendo up and then decrescendo back down. In my poem that follows, I started with two syllables in the first line, and worked up to seven syllables, then repeated seven, and worked back down to two.
The house my dad built in northeast Minneapolis, where I grew up.
The prompt: Describe a day in the life of your childhood.
Get up.
Eat breakfast.
Do a few chores.
Go outside and play.
The neighborhood gang waits.
Play until it’s time for lunch,
then go out to play some more.
Go inside for supper.
Go out until dusk.
Then in, once more
Go to bed.
Repeat.
Obviously, this is exaggerated, but I do look back with fondness and gratefulness for my childhood. Which was so very different than my husband’s, who grew up on a farm in Pennsylvania. His was a happy childhood, too.
My friend wrote a story about ants, which prompted a memory from my childhood involving ants. I grew up in northeast Minneapolis. Across the street from me lived my two best friends: Donna and Diane. This story, and many childhood memories, involve them. I don’t have many pictures of the three of us…but I found a couple pictures from Christmastime with the three of us and my brother.
This photo was taken in 1958 of my brother, Donna, Diane and me (L to R).
Here’s my story: Ants
I don’t remember whose idea it was to sneak treats up to the cabin, but we thought it would be a fun thing to do. My “partners in crime” were my best friends at the time, two sisters who lived across the street from me, Donna and Diane. Our parents were good friends…they met when there was a surge of families moving into a new neighborhood in Northeast Minneapolis, in the early 1950’s.
We moved into the house my dad built when I was six months old, and I grew up there, with the same neighbors for the most part. There was a huge gang of kids in the neighborhood. And it was a fun place to grow up. I didn’t move out of the house my dad built, until after high school.
My parents had a large group of friends (with young families) that connected on a regular basis. They had coffee together, played bridge together, went camping together and rented cabins at the same resorts together. It was a family of friends. And Donna and Diane’s family, as well as mine, were a part of this group from the beginning.
Donna, Diane and I played together daily. We played outside, we had overnights, we played dress up, we played games, we had fun together, we grew up together. So, going up to a lake resort was a common outing for us. I now understand what a privilege it was to go to the resorts…but I guess since our family didn’t have a cabin – yet my parents wanted the cabin experience – the next best thing was to rent one.
As our parents planned another trip, we three girls planned our own shenanigans. I’m pretty sure we had enough to eat on these weekend get-aways, and probably more than enough snacks, so why we thought we needed to buy more snacks to sneak up to the cabin on this trip is a mystery. I know, at the time, we thought we were so clever and sneaky.
We must have pooled our allowance to get money to buy a few treats…maybe chips and cookies …I don’t remember anything other than the watermelon. And it was a half watermelon. Cut and wrapped in saran wrap. That’s a hard thing to sneak into a car, but we were determined.
When we got home from our grocery shopping excursion, we needed to hide the goods until the next morning when we were to leave for the cabin. So…we hid the snacks, including the half watermelon, in the bushes in Donna and Diane’s backyard. It made sense at the time…
Until the next morning when we took our pillows along to retrieve our treats and hide them in our pillow cases. What we discovered was a half watermelon, full, blackened even, with ANTS!
And we were so surprised!!! Little did we know the ants would show up. We learned a lesson that day…do not leave watermelon outside overnight under a bush – or anywhere!!! It’s a fun childhood memory.
This photo was taken in 1969…me, Diane, Donna and my brother (L to R).
Unfortunately, all of our respective parents have died, so we cannot get their take on this story.
Time for spring cleaning
It is a lot of hard work,
But satisfying.
When it’s done, I’m glad.
But, there is always more to do.
For now, it’s enough.
As spring emerges~
It’s time for new adventures.
Wonder what they’ll be?
A clown with many faces.
As we were spring cleaning last week, I brought down a clown that sits on a high shelf, to dust it off. As I was dusting it, I was transported down memory lane.
This clown was from my mom’s collection. She had quite a fun collection. I wish I had taken a photo of all the different clowns she had at one time. Whenever I see a clown figurine, I think of her. She died in 2009.
I kept one of her clowns. It’s a wonderful clown, with masks that can be put on and off its face. Not only is the clown a nice remembrance of my mother, but also, it evokes fond memories from when we would go visit her when my boys were little. They would always ask grandma if they could change out the masks on that clown. She would say “yes”, and they boys would carefully put on a new mask.
After cleaning up the clown, we put it back up on the shelf, where it stands tall (ready to perform for us I think) until the next time.
We went to the world premiere production of Something Happened in Our Town at the Children’s Theatre, in Minneapolis. It was a play written for children to address racism and police shootings, particularly of black men. It was produced to help parents address these difficult subjects with their own children. It is based on a book by the same title, and it was well done.
The stage is set for the play.
The playwright, Cheryl L. West, states in the program, “In a time of reckoning in our country, this work is a call to action, to facilitate the much-needed discussion about inclusion, compassion, and what it really means to be peace makers in our homes, schools, and communities. Hopefully, this story will move us one step closer to healing our racial divide.”
The program.
The young actors did an awesome job. We stayed after the play for a Q&A session, and learned how mature and wise they were, and how much they learned by putting on this production. There were psychologists in attendance at rehearsals, so when there were some difficult scenes someone was there to help the performers process them. I was grateful our church acquired tickets and encouraged us to attend this event. It was worthwhile.
March 27th was the last performance of this play here in Minneapolis. It will be interesting to see what happens next…will other theaters pick up on this play and produce in other places in the country?
Apparently for two years before the 2020 pandemic, Bachman’s sponsored a spring flower show at the Galleria. I didn’t know about it at the time. Now, two years later, after the pandemic, Bachman’s is once again, sponsoring another flower show: AFloral Experience at Galleria ~Sugar Coated.
A Floral Experience at Galleria.
We happened upon it by accident. We were going out to dinner at the Good Earth in the Galleria, after an interesting play at the Children’s Theatre. We noticed there were a lot of flowers in the mall as we walked toward the restaurant.
Beautiful blooming daffodils adds to the honeycomb display.
Blooming cupcakes.
The hostess at Good Earth then informed us the Bachman’s spring flower show was opening the next day!
Ice cream cones: must be strawberry flavor.
After dinner we decided to walk around the indoor mall, and we saw a preview of the bright and beautiful show. It was all set up, and ready for the debut.
Colorful skittles…blooming lillies..
It was fun to see so much color. It was wonderful to see blooming flowers.
Cotton candy clouds create indoor showers.
Silver beads hanging from clouds represent April Showers.
The theme was “Sugar Coated” and it was colorful, delightful…and not crowded (as it probably would be the very next day when the show opened).
A giant gummy bear.
Hydrangea trees…
The show runs from March 27 through April 10, 2022.
Lollipops.
Colorful candy sticks.
Hyacinths about to bloom, set with deep blues and whites, create a stunning display. In a near-by display some of the hyacinths were blooming and smelled so fragrant.
It was a “sweet” surprise, and a great ending to our fun day in the cities.
I always thought it would be fun to be at safely tucked into a cabin on Lake Superior during a November gale. At a previous cabin we rented years ago, the owners had recorded, on VHS, a November storm that we could watch while staying at the cabin. It was always intriguing to see how incredibly high those waves came slamming into the cliffs at that resort.
Snow falling on our rented cabin on Lake Superior.
A touch of sunshine the first day.
We just came back from a couple days on the north shore, safely tucked into a cabin on Lake Superior during a March snowstorm. The waves came slamming into the rocky shore sending up sprays of water into the air.
The lake was full of white caps and the waves coming to shore were huge. Not like a November gale, but still a memorable snowstorm for us.
We managed to get in a hike that morning before the predicted storm. It was fun to walk along the lake, through trees, and we were delighted to find little gnomes along the trail. Three times we came upon these little trolls, cheering us on.
Once back in our cabin we settled in for the rest of the day, and the storm. It was cozy. The snow started falling and the wind was whipping and churning up the lake as we sat indoors, by a nice crackling fire and watched it unfold through the large patio doors overlooking the lake. The amount of snow that fell was not what was predicted, but the wind was wicked, and the lake turbulent.
The warm, crackling fire.
Last year when were we up at this same resort on the north shore in March, the temperatures were in the 50’s and 60’s. This year the temps were in the 30’s with wind chill temps even lower. But no matter what, Lake Superior is my happy place and it was great to be on the shore once again.
Snow falling on an old, picturesque, fishing hut along the shore of Lake Superior.
Occasionally I go up to the cities to help feed children…by helping make food packets.
Feed My Starving Children (FMSC) is a Christian organization that has been packing meals for hungry children all over the world, for many years…since 1987.
We gather for instructions.
There is a small group from my church that helps at the Eagan facility about once a month, and I join them when it works. When you arrive, you gather with fellow volunteers from all over the area to listen to instructions. Next, after washing your hands, you don a hairnet and gloves and enter the packing facility. It is set up with different stations in an assembly line format, and you go to your assigned station.
The packing facility with several stations.
One station can accommodate up to seven people. It’s a well-run operation. Once people are in place, they turn on the music and we sometimes dance and sway to the music, as we work.
There are four ingredients to the meal; vitamin powder, dried vegetables, soy, and rice. Two people scoop up the ingredients into a funnel that dumps into the plastic bag. The bag is weighed and then sealed and put into a box. In one hour, five of us working together at one station, can fill 9-10 boxes, of 36 packets each.
At this one (of five per day) session, the volunteers packed 60 boxes.
It’s a wonderful, hands-on way of making a difference for children. The meals we packed at our last session were going to Nicaragua.
It is a great volunteer activity for all ages…starting at age 5. And, if you can’t stand for a long period of time, you can sit and apply labels to the plastic bags before they are filled.
If interested to learn more or volunteer, check it out here: FMSC.
We recently we attended a St. Olaf Orchestra concert. The college finally opened the campus to visitors, so we could be on campus. The orchestra concert was especially inviting since it is one of Steve Amundson’s (the conductor of St. Olaf’s orchestra) last concerts. He will be retiring at the end of the school year, after forty years at the college.
I enjoy attending St. Olaf orchestra concerts. The audience is guaranteed an amazing, and varied, performance. The students create beautiful music and sound fantastic. At this concert, besides being one of Steve’s last concerts, two out-of-the-ordinary things happened.
First, this concert was performed a few days after the invasion of Ukraine. Steve added a special piece to the program, “Nimrod”, a beautiful, calming piece, and he called for a moment of silence to remember the people of Ukraine. It was poignant.
Then, in addition to featuring two outstanding soloists, a cellist and a clarinet player, another special and distinct piece of music was performed. The husband of a friend of mine, commissioned Steve Amundson to write a piece in honor of his wife and her retirement from thirty-plus years of working at St. Olaf College. The composition was débuted at this concert. It was titled “Gratia Viva” and the piece was remarkable….marvelous…wonderful… it’s hard to find words to describe it. It was such a sweet piece of music, and it was exciting to know the people and story behind the song. How one composes music, especially for multiple instruments, is beyond my imagination.
We will continue to monitor the college’s music calendars for more events, now that the campuses are open to the public. Both colleges offer many gifts to our community, and I am grateful.
We still get a newspaper delivered to our house on the weekends. Gary especially likes to read the paper. I skim it and read articles that catch my attention. Occasionally I will read an article in the newspaper and want to share it with a friend. So, I fold in newspaper, get out of my chair, go to the drawer where we keep our scissors, unfold the newspaper and starting cutting out the article.
An interesting article in the Star Tribune, February 27, 2022.
Every time I get my scissors out and start cutting the newspaper, it brings me back to elementary school. For homework, we would have to clip news articles and bring them in to share with the class. For some reason, I enjoyed doing that, and still enjoy the act of cutting out an article today, and sharing it.
Gary enjoyed having that assignment as a kid too, and we wondered if they do that anymore in elementary school…probably not, because I would imagine most younger adults don’t get a newspaper, and if they do, they get it online. We only get the Saturday and Sunday editions of the newspaper, but that’s enough because we, too, get news online.
I have a friend who also enjoys sharing articles, and every once in a while, we send one to each other. I know now-a-days it’s easy to scan an article, but that’s not as much fun as getting the paper copy, especially via snail mail.
Gary and I also remembered getting the Weekly Reader in elementary school, which we is another assignment we both enjoyed. I remember our sons got a version of the Weekly Reader when they were in elementary school, so I’m assuming it still exists in some form these days.
