Christmas is pretty much over at our house--except for the take down and clean up. What a wonderful season it was. My friend Dace says, at our Bible study group annual Christmas breakfast, "How rich we are!" referring to our friendships, families and general blessings. And so it was made evident to me over and over throughout the month of December.
So many people had a part in making a great. We started with the Holiday Stroll in downtown Red Wing the day after Thanksgiving. The merchants have treats and specials, Santa comes to town, there is a parade and fireworks and music and then we invite people over to warm up and have some soup. Next on the agenda is the Christmas cookie bake at church where we make about 8000 cookies for a youth fundraiser. It takes the efforts of about 40-45 people to get it all done in a day and a half and its a lot of work but a lot of fun too. Then my sisters and brother and I go for our annual day of shopping and fine eating. We always have a good time together and this year was no exception. Next came the Christmas program at church. No matter how chaotic the practices go, the program always comes together with only a few minor glitches--and they make it all the more memorable for all the parents and grandparents that come to watch. We had Secret Santa's at work--which is always fun (I'm going to write a whole posting on this soon). I'm still working on getting the Christmas cards done--which now turn into holiday cards, I guess.
Mr. Wonderful and I made it away overnight for our annual two day shopping trip. We started this tradition when the kids were little and have managed to do it every year--its a great recharge time for us, giving us time to walk around, holding hands, doing all that mushy stuff--and getting the shopping done too.
There are three things that intertwine to make Christmas special to me--the extra involvement with people due to the extra Christmas activities, the traditions of Christmas, and the Christmas story. It all comes together when I'm sitting in church and hear the story of the first Christmas being read from Luke--something in me settles and I have a sense of Christmas having arrived and all the busyness being done and everything quieting down.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
My Vatican Splendor "toothpick holder"
For the past few years my two sisters, my brother and I have spent a day in the fall with my mom to celebrate her birthday. This year we went to the MN History Center to see the Vatican Splendors exhibit. The artwork on display was pretty amazing and we decided that when money is no obstacle its really much easier to build a fine collection of fine art. The intricate detail work on the dishes (I know there are real words for each item-I'm too lazy to look them up) used for communion was impressive. I suppose it would be sacrilegious to consider melting them down to provide proper health care to the retired nuns who live in poverty relying on donations.
The part of the display about digging in the mid-1900's for St. Peter's tomb, in secret for a couple of decades, had me remembering Geraldo Rivera's dramatic unveiling of the supposed vault of Al Capone's wealth (which only contained some bottles). Apparently, the Vatican excavating crew found some bones that they thought were St. Peter's, so they hid them so they wouldn't be misplaced, then someone else found them and then they were place in a proper reliquary. Enough about that.
The gift shop had all the usual museum type stuff--reproductions of the artwork, statues of the some of the popes, calendars, creches and postcards. The only item that got me to open my wallet though was the Vatican Splendor shot glass. My sister and I were laughing so hard that the clerk was even laughing with us. He said something like, I see you found our "toothpick holders". I bought two--one for me and for my most Catholic friend.
After seeing the rest of the museum, doing a little shopping, we went to Moscow on the Hill for dinner. Its a Russian restaurant. I would like to go back someday when I'm not driving as they have flights of vodka you can order--six different kinds of their over a hundred kinds of vodka to try. I tried one shot of the house cherry vodka and thought it was excellent. It would have been a good time to use my new shot glass but I forgot it in the car.
Rome and Moscow, all in one day. I hope my mom had fun.
The part of the display about digging in the mid-1900's for St. Peter's tomb, in secret for a couple of decades, had me remembering Geraldo Rivera's dramatic unveiling of the supposed vault of Al Capone's wealth (which only contained some bottles). Apparently, the Vatican excavating crew found some bones that they thought were St. Peter's, so they hid them so they wouldn't be misplaced, then someone else found them and then they were place in a proper reliquary. Enough about that.
The gift shop had all the usual museum type stuff--reproductions of the artwork, statues of the some of the popes, calendars, creches and postcards. The only item that got me to open my wallet though was the Vatican Splendor shot glass. My sister and I were laughing so hard that the clerk was even laughing with us. He said something like, I see you found our "toothpick holders". I bought two--one for me and for my most Catholic friend.
After seeing the rest of the museum, doing a little shopping, we went to Moscow on the Hill for dinner. Its a Russian restaurant. I would like to go back someday when I'm not driving as they have flights of vodka you can order--six different kinds of their over a hundred kinds of vodka to try. I tried one shot of the house cherry vodka and thought it was excellent. It would have been a good time to use my new shot glass but I forgot it in the car.
Rome and Moscow, all in one day. I hope my mom had fun.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Noisy and Messy
Molly Ivins was one of my favorite columnists. She wrote for several publications but finished her career in Texas at the Fort Worth Star Telegram. The following quote is attributed to her:
"So keep fightin' for freedom and justice beloveds but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin'ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was."
And so ends another election season. Although the mud-slinging got tiresome, the money spent overwhelming and the rhetoric hard to believe--it was as it should be. From the President of the United States, to Congressional races, to local county and city contests-never should such big decisions be made quietly. This democracy is a noisy, messy business isn't it?
"So keep fightin' for freedom and justice beloveds but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin'ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was."
And so ends another election season. Although the mud-slinging got tiresome, the money spent overwhelming and the rhetoric hard to believe--it was as it should be. From the President of the United States, to Congressional races, to local county and city contests-never should such big decisions be made quietly. This democracy is a noisy, messy business isn't it?
Thursday, October 23, 2008
One Issue Voter
After being out driving this week, I think I could become a one issue voter. If a candidate promised to ticket everyone who drove in the passing lane when they weren't passing anyone--I would donate money to that person's campaign, put their sign in my lawn, show up at their rally and put my "x" by their name on election day.
I'm embarrassed to say that this is how shallow I am.
Why don't people move over? One woman I know said she couldn't go back to the other lane because she drove a pick-up truck and it was too hard---hey, hey, hey--how about getting off the road if you can't handle the vehicle. Others say they are going the speed limit and have a right to be there--oh for pete sake, time to mosey on back to Mayberry RFD. And others, I'm sure, are just unaware or on their cell phone or are planning to pass someone or turn left at some point in the next 100 miles or so. Again, I know I'm a little bit on the ornery side about all this.
For several years, I've reminded the little darlings that when I die, it is their responsibility to tell their father to move out of the passing lane. Mr. Wonderful gets a little too comfortable in the left lane and is slow to put on his blinker, check over his right shoulder and slide back over to where he belongs. (I didn't pick up on this when we were dating--love is truly blind)
So, if you've been thinking about a political career but didn't really want to be bothered with foreign policy, recessions, depressions, global warming, crime, health care, mortgage meltdowns, poverty, energy resources and all those other big fancy issues--maybe this is the place to start. You can count on my vote.
I'm embarrassed to say that this is how shallow I am.
Why don't people move over? One woman I know said she couldn't go back to the other lane because she drove a pick-up truck and it was too hard---hey, hey, hey--how about getting off the road if you can't handle the vehicle. Others say they are going the speed limit and have a right to be there--oh for pete sake, time to mosey on back to Mayberry RFD. And others, I'm sure, are just unaware or on their cell phone or are planning to pass someone or turn left at some point in the next 100 miles or so. Again, I know I'm a little bit on the ornery side about all this.
For several years, I've reminded the little darlings that when I die, it is their responsibility to tell their father to move out of the passing lane. Mr. Wonderful gets a little too comfortable in the left lane and is slow to put on his blinker, check over his right shoulder and slide back over to where he belongs. (I didn't pick up on this when we were dating--love is truly blind)
So, if you've been thinking about a political career but didn't really want to be bothered with foreign policy, recessions, depressions, global warming, crime, health care, mortgage meltdowns, poverty, energy resources and all those other big fancy issues--maybe this is the place to start. You can count on my vote.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Potlucks
A potluck, also called a covered dish supper, faith supper, a carry-in or Jacob's supper in different parts of the country or cultures, is in my estimation, consistently one of life's best culinary experiences. It's been a good week for me, I've been to two--nearly reason enough to raise my arms and praise the Lord (but behavior like that could get me barred from future feasts in my Scandinavian Lutheran neighborhood so I won't be risking it).
A potluck may seem like a free for all to the uninitiated but to pull off a good one takes some top-notch organizational skills. Some have themes, some have part of the menu provided, some require only some of the eaters to bring food. The organizer has to decide how many main dishes, salads--vegetable, pasta or fruit, breads, desserts, beverages (if not provided). Are the plates and utensils going to be provided or should everyone bring their own?--but even then someone will forget, you have to have spares. Bring a big sturdy plate--no flimsy nine incher.
My least favorite potluck was at an all natural, organic food store. Not only did it have the most unidentifiable foods, they were mostly inedible, at least to my cream of mushroom soup trained palate. My favorites are church potlucks when there are a lot of older women who don't have any fancy ideas about food. Hotdishes, jello salad, hotdishes, buttered buns, hotdishes, more jello salad, and another dozen or so hotdishes.
Hallelujah! Amen!!
A potluck may seem like a free for all to the uninitiated but to pull off a good one takes some top-notch organizational skills. Some have themes, some have part of the menu provided, some require only some of the eaters to bring food. The organizer has to decide how many main dishes, salads--vegetable, pasta or fruit, breads, desserts, beverages (if not provided). Are the plates and utensils going to be provided or should everyone bring their own?--but even then someone will forget, you have to have spares. Bring a big sturdy plate--no flimsy nine incher.
My least favorite potluck was at an all natural, organic food store. Not only did it have the most unidentifiable foods, they were mostly inedible, at least to my cream of mushroom soup trained palate. My favorites are church potlucks when there are a lot of older women who don't have any fancy ideas about food. Hotdishes, jello salad, hotdishes, buttered buns, hotdishes, more jello salad, and another dozen or so hotdishes.
Hallelujah! Amen!!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
art studio ramble
Last weekend my friend, Gina, and I went on a tour of art studios in western Wisconsin. I think we saw about 10 or 12 studios and drove about 100 miles. My vocabulary for talking about art is so limited--I don't know how to tell you about the great stuff we saw. Pottery, painting, sculpture, jewelry, glass work, photography, woodworking, iron smithing-and variations in each category. It was phenomenal. It was cool, beautiful, inspiring, calming, exciting and on and on.
My appreciation of art is uninformed and unsophisticated. I don't know what makes art good or bad and have only a minuscule bit of knowledge about technique or style-- enough to recognize the difference between a Picasso and Monet, and that's about it. But, as we cretins like to say, I know what I like and you can bet your crayolas I saw a lot that I liked on Saturday. It would have been fun, (in a "look at me, I just won the lottery" way), to be able to buy something from each artist just to show them how much I appreciate what they do.
The artwork was great, the weather was perfect, the scenery wonderful and as an added bonus, I got to spend the day with Gina, who, it could be said, is a piece of art herself.
My appreciation of art is uninformed and unsophisticated. I don't know what makes art good or bad and have only a minuscule bit of knowledge about technique or style-- enough to recognize the difference between a Picasso and Monet, and that's about it. But, as we cretins like to say, I know what I like and you can bet your crayolas I saw a lot that I liked on Saturday. It would have been fun, (in a "look at me, I just won the lottery" way), to be able to buy something from each artist just to show them how much I appreciate what they do.
The artwork was great, the weather was perfect, the scenery wonderful and as an added bonus, I got to spend the day with Gina, who, it could be said, is a piece of art herself.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
The truth about politics
Only a month and we'll be done with the current cycle of campaigning. The advertising will go back to more benign topics and the TV news/talk shows will remember that there's a whole big world out there that doesn't need to be seen through the red and blue filters of the Democrat and Republican parties.
I was out walking today and listening to music (have I mentioned how much I love my Ipod?). A song came on by The Roches, called "Who Cares". Here are some of the lyrics:
I like to watch TV
listen to the news
hear what everybody is saying
there's a lot of talk about God
peace and safety and
war and fear and
there goes a girl in a bikini
This guy's saying that guy's an idiot and
she's on the right, he's on the left and
everybody's screaming and yelling at each other and
calling each other jerks
its a party
Who cares where the truth lies
Who cares where the truth lies
Guys dressed up in suits and ties
look you straight in the eyes
telling you lies
but I really wish I knew
what they were talking about
Meanwhile human beings
are being strung up on bridges and
little kids getting their legs blown off and
young soldiers are coming home no more
who cares
who cares
After listening to all the words being thrown back and forth by the politicians, their ads, their parties, the analysts, the newscasters, the comedians, and any of us, who've so charmingly been reduced to being "joe six pack" or "soccer mom"--its easy to see where the sentiment of the song comes from.
We can only guess our best at who is being truthful the most often and who has the most workable solutions to all of the complicated problems that face the US and the world. I have strong opinions about who is better suited to the job but I recognize that they are only opinions based on my biases, life experiences, likes and dislikes etc. There are precious few verifiable facts regarding any candidates past record (those records are so like Bible verses in that they change depending on who's doing the interpreting) and no mortal can tell us what will happen when one or the other is elected.
So....if you want to talk politics with me, don't be getting all high and mighty thinking you know the truth--because then I'll just have to start my own little delusional rant. And that'll just suck the fun right out of running into each other, don't you think?
I was out walking today and listening to music (have I mentioned how much I love my Ipod?). A song came on by The Roches, called "Who Cares". Here are some of the lyrics:
I like to watch TV
listen to the news
hear what everybody is saying
there's a lot of talk about God
peace and safety and
war and fear and
there goes a girl in a bikini
This guy's saying that guy's an idiot and
she's on the right, he's on the left and
everybody's screaming and yelling at each other and
calling each other jerks
its a party
Who cares where the truth lies
Who cares where the truth lies
Guys dressed up in suits and ties
look you straight in the eyes
telling you lies
but I really wish I knew
what they were talking about
Meanwhile human beings
are being strung up on bridges and
little kids getting their legs blown off and
young soldiers are coming home no more
who cares
who cares
After listening to all the words being thrown back and forth by the politicians, their ads, their parties, the analysts, the newscasters, the comedians, and any of us, who've so charmingly been reduced to being "joe six pack" or "soccer mom"--its easy to see where the sentiment of the song comes from.
We can only guess our best at who is being truthful the most often and who has the most workable solutions to all of the complicated problems that face the US and the world. I have strong opinions about who is better suited to the job but I recognize that they are only opinions based on my biases, life experiences, likes and dislikes etc. There are precious few verifiable facts regarding any candidates past record (those records are so like Bible verses in that they change depending on who's doing the interpreting) and no mortal can tell us what will happen when one or the other is elected.
So....if you want to talk politics with me, don't be getting all high and mighty thinking you know the truth--because then I'll just have to start my own little delusional rant. And that'll just suck the fun right out of running into each other, don't you think?
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