Holiday Music Traditions

Christmas is a season rich in musical traditions.  Coming from a family steeped in music, I have fond memories of Christmas caroling out in the cold with family and neighborhood friends.  I sang in countless Christmas concerts, and mustered family members to play musical instruments in church for Christmas services.  It was a joy to see the tradition continue when our children were old enough to sing in Christmas concerts of their own.  And when they went on to sing in college choirs we were treated to some of the finest musical tributes of the season.

With college graduations behind us, we decided the trips to distant campuses were no longer necessary.  Instead, we have visited local colleges to sample their Christmas music.  It’s amazing the talent we have in our midst.

This year, however, I was drawn back to the past.  In middle school and high school, our daughter Karen spent five magical years singing under the direction of Julia Fahey in the Partners in Praise Girls’ Choir.  It was an experience that would shape her life, both musically and personally.  The music that the choir produced, the discipline that it required, and the mutual respect that each member had for each other were of the highest standard.  They traveled internationally, performed spontaneously in public places and sang in prestigious venues, but more than that, they won the hearts of all who heard them sing.  As Karen put it, Julia taught them so much more than just music.

So when I realized that I would be in the Twin Cities close to the time of their annual Holiday Benefit Concert, it was no decision at all to extend my stay long enough to attend.  As always, it was an evening that filled my heart as well as my holiday music quota.  The girls looked so young and I didn’t recognize a single one, but it was the same choir.  They still had the that special sound, the spirit, and they owned the music. When alumni were invited up to sing, I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my face as Karen took her place among the other singers.  They all still sang like angels, just with richer more mature voices.

I couldn’t get enough of the music that night.  This was one holiday music tradition that was well worth going back to relive.  I just may have to do it again next year.

 

It’s a Blue Ball Year

We finally bought our Christmas tree late last week.  Our old faithful, the Duluth Farmers’ Market, came through for us, but we barely made it in time.  They apologized for the slim selection, adding that most people bought their trees Thanksgiving weekend.  We were a few weeks later than that…  But the real explanation was the snowfall.  Because of the deep snow, they have been unable to access the remaining trees on that lot that they intended to cut yet this year.  So their inventory has been frozen.  Literally.  Luckily for us, we still found a nice tree and happily carted it home.  As predicted, the Market sold out by Saturday.

Fortunately, since it is a Blue Ball Year, Rich was actively engaged in trimming the tree, and it went up quickly.  Blue Ball?  Early on in our marriage we reached an impasse over Christmas tree decorations.  I already had a collection of carefully selected ornaments that I had gathered over the years.  Many of them were hand made by me or by friends, some were souvenirs from trips, a few were from my parents’ tree, and all had special meaning to me.  But not to Rich.  He wanted blue balls.  Period.  For him, that brought back memories of his parents’ earliest Christmases when they could only afford simple blue balls for decorations.  The elegance and simplicity of the tree still resonated with him.

IMG_0622Since hand crafted ornaments and blue balls didn’t mix, we arrived at a compromise.  We would alternate years.  So every other year I get to handle my treasured collection of ornaments and memories, and continue to add to the array.  On the alternate years, Rich merrily hangs blue balls.  It has turned out to be a good system, and has kept the peace for 30 years now.

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The good news is that the tree is now up and decorated.  The lowest balls are a good plastic imitation of the shiny breakable variety, in preparation for the arrival of the grandchildren.  And an active cat, who delights in denuding the lower two feet of the tree.

It now feels like Christmas in the house.  The remaining decorations are up, and I even have a few Christmas cookies made.  Soon presents will appear under the tree, and family will begin to arrive.  Ah, Christmas!

And then I will begin anticipating next year, and triggering special moments with each unique ornament I hang.

Thanksgiving Kindness

Like any family, as our kids have gown into young adults we have had to learn to share them. Particularly on the holidays. With our oldest married for five years, we are well versed in the trickiness of spreading their holiday time between multiple families, and have tried to allow them to make guilt-free decisions.

With one far-flung son out in Washington DC comes the added complexity of travel and extra vacation time required for these occasions. We fully understood when he chose to spend Thanksgiving with his long distance girlfriend, rather than making the trip home. But what came as a complete surprise was her family’s invitation to all of us to join them. Not just Rich and me, but the rest of our kids and grandkids as well. It was an act of sincere kindness that humbled and excited us. We happily accepted.

Joining forces with as-yet-unknown-friends proved to be seamless and heartwarming. I maintain that it’s not all coincidence. Carl undoubtedly is drawn to a young woman brought up with similar family values. Enveloped by their warm hospitality, we felt right at home and enjoyed sharing many common experiences, not to mention a wonderful multi-generational Thanksgiving dinner.

As if that wasn’t enough, their generousity enabled us to stay for on an additional day to stretch our scarce time with our son. Many games were played, football games watched, Christmas lights installed (with the help of a tractor – we were in Iowa, after all), walks taken and stories told over more meals shared around the table.

wpid-Photo-Nov-29-2013-1154-AM.jpgwpid-Photo-Nov-29-2013-252-PM.jpgThis Thanksgiving gave us many new reasons to be thankful. For wonderful new friends. For sharing the strength of family. For gathering together from far and wide. For those reaching out with acts of kindness. And for Carl and Chelsea, for being the reason it happened.

Sharing my passions

As any good Grandma, I eagerly awaited the weekend when my daughter and her husband were coming to stay with their two young children – my grandkids. My favorite part of those weekends is sharing my favorite interests with those toddlers.

The preparations started long before, when I IMG_2944pulled out my sewing machine and brushed up my embroidery skills to make personalized aprons for the kids.  They both love to bake, as I do, and I couldn’t wait to surprise them with the matching aprons.  And of course I had several baking projects lined up.  They are eager helpers, and willingly donned their new aprons.  But there is no question that licking the bowl was the best part.  Who can argue with that?IMG_0017

No day in Duluth is complete without a visit to the Lake.  I run or cycle by it daily and savor its many moods.  Even on a dreary day, Ben was eager to throw rocks in the lake.  This time he took a liking to the large boulders as well, scaling their heights fearlessly.

I did reserve some mother-daughter time to goIMG_0486 for a run with my daughter, Karen.  That’s a passion I passed on to her, and between my aging body and her busy working mommy life our paces still manage to stay close enough to run and talk.  That’s our special time together.  The grandkids aren’t quite ready to join us yet, but don’t tell Mya.  She thinks she is.

IMG_2922Even Rich was not immune to the inquisitive young minds.  Each morning his favorite birdwatching perch on the window seat was invaded by the little ones.  He willingly pointed out the various species out in his beloved bird feeders, sharing on his own personal interest.  I don’t know which held their attention more, the birds or the antics of the squirrels.  But they were precious moments together.

I’m already anticipating their next visit.  Hopefully by then we’ll have snow on the ground.  That opens up a whole new world of passions to share.

A Tricky Halloween

Sometimes you just have to do what you need to do.  And Halloween was one of those times.  For the last three years we have gone over to our daughter’s house for Halloween to have chili for dinner and go out Trick or Treating with them and their kids.  The first year Ben was only 5 months old, but he had a costume, and we just went to the houses of two neighborhood friends.  But it was still Trick or Treating.

Now that we are in Duluth full time, it’s not like we can hop across the Twin Cities to join in the festivities.  So we thought we’d pass this year.  But as the date loomed closer, I began to get itchy.  Keeping an eye on the calendar as each day passed, I kept pondering the opportunity.  By two days before Halloween, I knew I had to go.  Rich was lukewarm on the idea, but that didn’t deter me.  After all, it was my passion that had been quietly simmering not his.  And there was a certain appeal to making the trip on my own – what better opportunity to squeeze in a shopping trip at the same time?  And I could hang around with the grandkids as long as I liked, operating on my own timeline.

Our daughter Karen was thrilled at the turn-about and we quickly laid plans.  I arrived in time to make some fresh cornbread for the chili dinner and was there to see the kids’ excitement and anticipation of the big night.

DSCN9683 trimmedOf course, nothing ever goes quite according to plan.  After days of anticipation and practice Trick or Treating with Mom and Dad, 3-year-old Ben grew anxious when the real event arrived.  He declined to wear any of his previous choices of costume, finally consenting to wear a Batman shirt.  Mya was a bundle of wiggly energy, but at least tolerated her bumble bee outfit.  It was a rocky start, but Ben eventually warmed up to the concept and was soon chasing the other kids from house to house and saying his Trick or Treat’s and Thank You’s as loud as any other kid.  Whew, a happy turnaround.IMG_0463 trimmedIMG_0466 trimmed

 

There’s nothing like pawing through a pile of DSCN9691candy, all in bright wrappers.  Ben and Mya were captivated by the activity, although not too distracted to miss sampling the goodies inside.  Being the grandma, I could let Mommy and Daddy be the portion police, and just enjoy the show.DSCN9694compressed

Transitioning from a sugar high to quiet reading for bedtime was accomplished with less fuss than I might have expected. And I can never resist those precious warm bodies pressing close to my sides to take in the story books.

The decision wasn’t really so tricky after all.  I just had to follow my heart.  And I already know where I will be next Halloween.  Trick or Treat!

Sharing Life’s Simple Pleasures

It’s been a long time since we’ve had toddlers.  But we figured we were up for the challenge when we offered to take our two young grandchildren for three days so our daughter and her husband could get away to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary.

Just keeping up with a 3 1/2 year old and a 19 month old is a momentous shift in routine for us.  Yet I wanted it to be more than just babysitting – I wanted to do some special things with them.  After all, that’s what grandparents do.  Left to my own devices, I would have ventured out to a pumpkin patch.  Or maybe taken them to the zoo.  But my husband, Rich, had other ideas.  “All the IMG_0437outdoors is a playground” he said.  So off to the park we went.  Not to play on the swings, but to walk through the woods.  Ben, the oldest, wasn’t too sure about shuffling through the leaves on the muddy ground.  And the trees lurking overhead did make it a little dark.  But when presented with a large stick to carry, he grew in stature and ventured forth.  And discovered he liked the woods!

The next day we walked down to the lake.  A couple of park benches and a patch of grass didn’t look too interesting to me.  But soon Rich and Ben were headed into the woods again.  A short walk through the brush brought us all to a stream.  What better place to throw sticks into the water!  Only when we depleted the local wood supply, did Ben venture further into the woods.  This time we were not on IMG_0455park trails.  It meant working our way through light underbrush.  But Ben was not to be deterred.  “C’mon, Grammy” he’d say.  Well, if he was game, who was I to hold back?  Rich was busy trying to keep Mya from falling in the stream, so it was up to me to follow Ben.  He was intrigued with the large downed trees, and his imagination began to unfold.  “This is my home” he declared when we found a particularly cozy spot.  This time he was so intrigued that we had to lure him back out of the woods to go back home for lunch.

Perhaps there was something to Rich’s idea after all.  I still think the pumpkin patch or the zoo would have been fun.  But sometimes simple pleasures are the best.  I think Ben would agree.

Home at Last

Sixty-four days is a long time to be gone. Between our Grand Gaspe Cycling Tour and the car trip out east and back, that’s how long we were away from home.

Photo Sep 27, 7 06 49 AMReturning to Minnesota we had a beautiful drive, with sunny days and fall color approaching peak. We stopped to visit good friends in Rochester, NY and checking out our old haunts where we first met and dated. We even got back on our bikes and cycled along the Erie Canal – a slow, leisurely ride. But from there, we made a bee line for Duluth. The closer we got, the more eager we were to be home.

It sure felt good to drive into the driveway and reclaim our home. We had to reacquaint ourselves with an ordinary life style at first. It was great to sleep in our own bed, to sip coffee out of my own mug and bake up my morning muffins. It felt strange to try and reconstruct what a “normal” day was. I didn’t expect to falter when looking for kitchen implements – now where do I keep that? And most awkward of all was re-adapting to my PC, after months on my iPad. I kept thinking, “Where is the app for that?” Microsoft needs to get with it. Fumbling through a web browser just felt too foreign.

We were pleased to find that fall was still in full swing in Duluth. Although we missed the height of color in our perennial garden, we have flowers still coming onto bloom as if to welcome us home. The trees continue to change color, and our own young red maples are some of the most brilliant.

IMG_2738Naturally, it didn’t take me long to head out on my bike. I’ve been out re-exploring my old routes and even forging a few new ones. Each ride reinforces how beautiful our surroundings are, and how fortunate we are to live here. Our own Lake Superior shoreline easily ranks up there with the stunning views on our trip. And little can compete with the quiet scenic beauty right at the end of our driveway – Seven Bridges Road excels as a cycling haven, particularly when cloaked in fall foliage.

Photo Oct 04, 9 27 03 AM trimmedBest of all has been reuniting with family and friends. There is nothing like a sloppy kiss and tight hug from a grandchild. Family dinners, cheering kids on in the Twin Cities Marathon events and just spending time together to catch up have filled my heart. Already we are planning holiday time together.

Oh, it’s good to be home.

From a Cycling Foursome to a Duo

Progress to date

Progress to date: 8 days, 388 miles

Having reached the northernmost border of Maine's coast, we bid a fond farewell to Carl and Myra. With job responsibilities awaiting them, they had to return to the real world. So they loaded their bikes into a U-Haul to return to their starting point and travel home.

Now it's just the two of us for the next two months and cycling through the Canadian Maritimes. This is how we're used to traveling, so there shouldn't be too many surprises. It was the foursome that was unique for us. So how did it go?

It was definitely different, with multiple personalities, needs, speeds and quirks to accommodate. And there's not a weak personality in the bunch. But the camaraderie more than made up for it. There was always someone who could lighten the mood in a tough spot, and conversation never lagged. It was good to have others to inject ideas about our travels, and it kept the experience fresh and less predictable. I also enjoyed the humor they contributed to each day.

In many ways, it went much as I expected from this cast of characters. True to form, after meandering along with the rest of us for a while, Carl's youthful energy would surface. About once a day the urge would strike and he'd surge ahead, rapidly disappearing from sight and leaving the three oldies miles behind. We didn't mind, and had no desire (or ability) to try and keep up. Eventually we'd get a text informing us where to find him, which was inevitably on a deck enjoying a cold beer. Following his libations, he was content to slow down and cycle with us again. Ah, youth!

Rich, Myra and I travelled in a loose pack. Frequently, we'd string out, hoping that each person was keeping track of the one behind them so we didn't lose anyone. Other times we'd stay in a tighter group, trading positions depending on whether we were going uphill or down. When possible, Myra and I cycled close enough together to carry on a conversation, traffic noise permitting.

Meals were interesting, with four very different metabolisms and food preferences. Rich had the need for the most fuel and “real food” cooked and served in restaurants. His pace always picked up significantly after each meal. Myra's food needs were constant. In addition to the cafe stops, she had a steady supply of bagels and other nutritional snacks stashed in her front bag to keep her going. Carl seemed to survive on whatever food stops we made, and I had the smallest appetite of all. I was happiest on the mornings when I could find a coffee shop with a good latte and scones.

When it came to our daily schedule, there were two camps. Rich and are early risers and liked to be up and out on the road as early as possible. Carl had a more relaxed attitude about morning start time, but having grown up with us, he knew enough to stick to the agenda. To Myra, our idea of early was the middle of the night. But there was little to argue against getting an early start when the temperatures were cooler and it was less windy. So most often we won out on that one. The main exception was when we stayed in an old country inn. The homemade muffins with fresh fruit and yogurt promised in the included breakfast was too tempting to miss. But it meant waiting until the excruciatingly late hour of 8:00am to eat before starting for the day. Carl and Myra were thrilled. And I have to admit I enjoyed that civilized start to our morning.

The cycling foursome enjoying a country inn breakfast

The cycling foursome enjoying a country inn breakfast

We'll miss our cycling buddies. We wish them safe travels home and hope they think of us, still out on the road. Still cycling.

 

The Hardest Decision

We’ve seen it happening over the last year. The decline in Spot’s health has been evident to all of us – losing weight, whining at night from pain, weakness in her back legs and the lackluster fur that used to shine. Through it all, she keeps on going and continues to look at us with those big dark eyes. She still tolerates the overzealous advances of our young grandchildren. And she remains totally loyal to my husband, Rich.

How do you decide when a pet’s life is no longer worth living? We’ve been over this ground so many times, hoping to delay the inevitable. It’s too easy to look past her failings and focus on her loving personality, wanting things to be all right. It’s hard to separate our desire to hang on to a beloved member of the family from the facts of her discomfort and failing body. Finding the balance is nearly impossible. Facing the hard reality of the situation is even tougher.

Photo Jul 03, 8 58 59 AMHow do you explain to two toddlers that their favorite dog is going away forever? Once resigned to the decision, we consoled ourselves with one final family week at the cabin with Spot. It’s a place she used to love to roam, enjoying her freedom from the leash, and her choice of critters to chase. Watching the grandkids petting Spot for the last time without really understanding was heartbreaking. Tears flowed freely as our daughter knowingly bid Spot farewell. Tonight our sons will have their opportunity, one via Skype from Washington DC.

How do you console a husband, who is losing his faithful friend? She may be a family pet, but when we rescued her as a stray and brought her home with us, she immediately attached herself to Rich. For twelve years he has taken her for the lion’s share of her walks. She has slept by his bedside every night. And she is the only dog he’s ever had.

Tomorrow is Spot’s final day. She’s had a good life, and greatly enriched ours. She will leave a big gap in our lives, which we will endeavor to fill with many great memories. But it’s still a hard decision. Very hard.

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Spot in her younger days, patiently tolerating a new kitten

Cabin Imagery

We have had an unbelievable string of perfect cabin days. And it’s the 4th of July week to boot, so untold numbers of cabin owners and renters are sure to be benefitting from this gift of beautiful weather. Warm days, bordering on hot, with constant sunshine and just enough breeze to discourage the mosquitos and flies (well, mostly). Nights that cool down for good sleeping. It’s the way we like to remember being at the cabin, despite being a rare phenomenon.

It’s been a week filled with favorite things. Sometimes pictures say it better than words.

Cabin images