Tag Archives: Family

This takes the cake

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I’ve been outdone. But I loved it! It’s clear that my daughter has inherited many of my traits, including my perfectionist tendencies. We are both extremely organized, creators of lists extraordinaire, highly energetic and productive, and love coffee. So it should not surprise me that she took my themed birthday cake tradition to another level.

For our granddaughter’s first birthday, Karen decided on a rainbow theme. We arrived at the family party to find streamers, birthday banner, and hats in all colors of the rainbow. I knew she’d spent all week preparing the cake – each night after teaching school she ticked off one more step in completing the cake. And the night before the big birthday, I was informed not to expect any email responses as she IMG_0546would be “offline” decorating the cake.

So it was with great anticipation that I sought my first glimpse of the cake. True to form, it was artfully decorated. A classic layer cake with pristine decorator frosting, it was adorned with a rainbow made up of M&Ms – very colorful and of course, perfect. We were also informed that it was 100% from scratch. Yes, very impressive.

We admired it all evening, through dinner, IMG_9643opening presents, and blowing out the single candle. It seemed a shame to cut into it. Little did we know that was the denouement! The pretty outside was merely window dressing for the rainbow of colors inside. Cutting through the frosting exposed no less than six layers, each a vivid and different color, naturally arrayed in rainbow order.

The ooohs and aaaahs were audible, and there was a tangible aura of awe throughout the room. Karen beamed in response, the kudos well deserved. Her piece de resistance was a smash hit.

IMG_9659Mya, the birthday girl, may not have entirely appreciated the aesthetics, but she did enjoy the sweet flavors. And she wore it well.

I admit to stabs of nostalgia, as my own family members have gravitated away from cake in favor of other favorite desserts on their birthdays. I haven’t made a theme cake in a long time. But if I do, I’ll know where to get help.

Brueggers Mornings

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When my kids were little, a new Bruegger’s Bagel shop opened near our house.  It soon became a ritual for me to take my kids there for breakfast once a week before school.  At first I’d take Erik, our youngest, to Brueggers after dropping off the others at the bus stop on my day off.  How well I remember the day we discovered his brother’s lunch box still in the car, and made a mad dash to the next bus stop to deliver it to him!

IMG_0300 timmedAs time went on and school schedules changed, the other kids were able to join us.  Even when I went back to work full-time, we still managed to get to Brueggers.  I loved our special time together in the early morning, over a simple breakfast of bagels and cream cheese.  The staff knew us, and I invested in a Brueggers mug to get “refill” discounts on my coffee.  We were regulars.

High school was a challenge for Karen and Carl, with a 7:30 start time.  I’ll admit that they fell off during those years.  What high schooler wanted to get up earlier than that?  But Erik persisted – he wisely chose a different high school with a later start.  So we kept up the tradition.  College clearly intervened for all of them, but during breaks we’d still head off to Brueggers.

Erik is now working his first job, living in our Twin Cities townhouse.  When we’re there, he is still willing to get up extra early periodically to have bagels with his mom.  I feel so very honored!  These days the staff do a double-take when they see my mug.  It’s clearly vintage by now.  But I’m proud of it and my tradition.photo 2

And on to the new generation.  My grandson, Ben, is old enough for bagels now, so when we spend days together while his mom and dad are at work, guess where we head first?  He too loves his Brueggers Mornings.photo 1

Just a friendly bet

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It was a given that Rich would ignore the doctor’s orders.  We knew he would start skiing again before the prescribed recovery period was over following his surgery last Friday.  The only question was when?  He’s much too active to sit around and rest.  And going for long walks soon lost its appeal.  I just knew he was itching to be out on the ski trails, especially given the new snow.

So I went behind his back.  Early in the week I surreptitiously sent our kids an email titled “Taking Bets.”  I suggested we have a betting pool on precisely when Dad would head out to ski, and asked each to reply just to me with the day they expected him to break bail.  The only information we had to go on was the doctor’s suggestion that he take the week off work, not work out for a couple of weeks, and not lift more than 5 pounds.  I registered my vote for Thursday then waited for the other bets to come in.

Final tally:

  • Karen – Wednesday
  • Carl and me – Thursday
  • Erik and Matt – Friday

Clearly none of us thought he’d make it longer than a week.

The email responses had barely arrived when Rich started making his move.  “Where are my knickers?”  he asked Wednesday morning.  Uh oh, I was in trouble.  Sure enough, by 2pm he was outfitted in his ski clothes and waxing his skis.  Shortly thereafter, he was out the door.  So much for doctor’s orders.

Upon his triumphant return, Rich wasn’t exactly apologetic for his actions.  Far from it, the first thing he did was post his Garmin GPS data for the ski on Facebook.  I rather doubt that 10k at 5 min/k was what the doctor would consider an “easy ski.”  Rich ski 1 Rich ski 2

I decided it was time to break it to him.  So I commented on his Facebook post, informing him of our bet.  And about Karen being the winner.  As I expected, he was quite tickled that his audacious behavior was the center of family speculation.  And that he exceeded our expectations for the most part.

I’m just glad he’s feeling so good.  There’s a lot to being in good health to fuel a speedy recovery.  But I still hope he doesn’t overdo it.  I’d like to bet on a full recovery soon.

Sneak Preview

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It was a year ago this week that I started my retirement.  How odd it was to get up on Monday morning with no place to go.  More accurately, no place I had to go.  It was a liberating yet oddly displacing feeling.  But I didn’t linger long, easily filling my days with long neglected projects, hobbies I’d suppressed for years, family, friends, grandkids! and of course workouts.  Cycling, running, skiing as much as I like has been a treat.  And I have enjoyed starting my “retirement job” as a freelance writer.

I’ve developed my own rhythm to my days.  With Rich still working, I have a large degree of independence.  Rich works remotely from our home in Duluth, so he is present, but occupied.  I enjoy pampering him with fresh muffins mid-morning, and he freely admits that his life is a lot simpler now that I am available to handle the myriad home duties that we used to squeeze in after work hours.

But all that is about to change.  Rich has announced his retirement as of April 26.  Before long he will join me at home daily with an unstructured lifestyle.  No doubt that will take some adjustment, accommodating his plans and needs into my new retirement schedule.

This week feels like a sneak preview of that routine.  With Rich home recovering from his surgery, he’s here all day every day.  But it’s not really a fair test.  He’s flush with small projects, just like I was in the beginning.  And more significant, his physical activity is necessarily restricted.  That’s huge.  As much as he’d like to be out skiing, he’s settling for short walks and trying to be a “good boy.”  I’m not sure how long he can last.

We are entering a new era.  After almost 30 years of marriage, the most free time we have spent together was 17 days on our one and only two-week vacation.  But we’re ready for the challenge.  Rich is already planning to do part-time consulting.  I’m hoping that can fund our “exotic travel” account.  I have my writing and hobbies.  And we look forward to more family time.  Best of all, we can indulge our love of doing long-distance outdoor sports together.  In fact, several more long cycling trips are in the planning stages.

I’ve decided I like the preview.  I’m ready for the full length feature – bring on Rich’s retirement.

Home Again

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It was only 27 1/2 hours.  But it seemed a lot longer.  From the time we walked in the front doors of the hospital to the time we walked out again, it felt as though the world had stopped.  Hospitals are like that.  Nothing seems to matter except what’s going on inside.

Even the short periods of time I spent at home were surreal.  Things just seemed, well, different.  Even the dog knew.  She is devoted to Rich, and kept looking around for him.  I wasn’t good enough for her.  She wanted Rich.  And she let me know it by whining incessantly at bedtime.  And beyond.

We were both very grateful that they decided to keep Rich in the hospital overnight.  Going home the same day as his surgery sounded like a great thing.  Sleeping in his own bed, a quiet, familiar environment and no hospital stay.  But seeing him hooked up to fluids with the nursing staff constantly checking his vitals, and professionals doling out advice or reassurance was a blessing.  The extra care and attention before we were on our own gave us an extra measure of confidence as Rich walked out the door.

It feels good to have all that behind us now.  Rich is thrilled to be showered and dressed.  He’s relaxing on the couch, not a hospital bed.  And he even sneaked a Diet Coke.

We’re glad Rich is home again.  And the dog is happy too.

 

On to Recovery

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The waiting got long. I forced myself to wait at least 15 minutes between checking Rich's status, as it continued to hover on “OR.” I invented logical reasons why he was still in there. I pushed alternatives from my mind. In the scheme of things it really was not all that long. But it seemed like it.

Then suddenly Rich's doctor came out the door and was at my feet. He delivered the words I longed to hear, “All went well.” It did take longer than normal, and there was some additional work that needed to be done, but all still within the confines of the laser surgery. No incision needed. Blockage successfully removed. Yea! On his next fleeting visit he told me he'd just talked to Rich. That was major news. Being raised in a doctor's family, Rich has a healthy apprehension about anesthesia, so coming out of that was a big step. While it was still a long time before I was permitted to see him, I could at least relax.

Now it's all about recovery. Due to the additional work done, the doctor is keeping him in the hospital overnight. At this stage, it seems a small penalty. Rich has already gone from groggy to napping to tapping away on his tablet. Feeling better can't be too far away if he is already engaging with his beloved Internet. Soon Rich will be relocated to his own hospital room. Another first for him.

It will seem strange not to have him home in bed with me tonight. It's not like we haven't spent time apart, it's just that this feels different. But once again we have a lot to be thankful for. This hospital stay is just for good measure. It's not a long, dragged out affair. And I know his recovery is already starting.

The Waiting Room

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True to its name, this is where I sit and wait. I just left Rich’s bedside so they could administer the anesthesia and wheel him into the operating room. Fortunately, he is able to benefit from the medical and technological advances that allow his enlarged prostate to be treated with lasers. So as opposed to full blown surgery, with big incisions and a long recovery process, his less invasive procedure should allow him to go home later today, and return to normal life much more rapidly.

We have been truly blessed and fortunate that in almost 30 years of marriage (not to mention our 20-something individual years before that) and raising our children to adults, we have never experienced surgery before. By the same token, we are both very healthy adults – marathoners, cyclists and long distance skiers. I’m sure the two are related. A friend of mine who is a nurse in a surgical recovery room told Rich that the doctors and nurses are going to love him for his overall good health. It’s a treat, she said, to work with people devoid of other risks and complications – unfortunately something that is all too rare these days.

Being newbies to all this, there are so many unknowns. It’s still surgery, after all. How will Rich feel later today? How long before he can resume his workouts? On the way to the hospital this morning, Rich remarked that if he was feeling nervous, how must someone feel going into a major operation? We couldn’t imagine what it must be like to face something like open heart surgery.

Technology has moved into the waiting room too. I have a restaurant-style pager that will light up when the doctor wants to talk to me. That will let me wander around in the hospital. There is also a monitor in the corner that reports the status of all the patients behind that door. Checking Rich’s patient number, I can see that he is in “OR.” More time to wait. But that’s okay – it’s where I need to be for the day, and I brought plenty to keep me occupied. And I was even able to get a good latte at the coffee bar.

I can wait.

Snowshoe Delight

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After a winter spent diligently plying the ski trails, it was the perfect day to change our tune and head out on snowshoes.  With the Birkie behind us, all sense of urgency for training had dissipated.  The brilliant sunshine and the deep fresh new snow just begged for an afternoon of discovery.  My son, Erik, and I answered that siren’s call.

Living on the far edge of Duluth, the vast beauty of the North Shore beckoned, and we sought out the nearby Sucker River for our trek.  Starting from Old North Shore Road, we were a bit off-put by a large group of snowshoers that preceded us down the trail to the river, and even less thrilled by the snowmobile trampled path that led upstream where we’d intended to go.  So it was an easy decision to head the opposite direction, and we were well rewarded for our choice.

IMG_0463That section of the river was unspoiled by snowmobile tracks and had only vague signs of earlier snowshoe imprints before the last deep snowfall.  The snow was blindingly white as it reflected the bright sunlight, and we sank deeply into the thick fresh powder as we made our way downstream.  We saw only one set of skiers and a couple of hikers along the way.  The rest was virgin territory for us.  It was exactly what we’d come for.

IMG_0487The snow was soft and moist in the near-freezing air, perfect for a snowman.  Erik couldn’t resist the opportunity to create a friend along the way.  The warmth of the sun quickly dissipated in the shady areas, sending us a chill, but rewarmed us immediately upon returning to its toasty rays.

Reaching the shore of Lake Superior, we were treated to a beauty of a different nature.  The ice coating the lake near shore was thin and fragile, stacking itself into piles of delicate tiles that floated on the softly undulating water.  It made a tinkling sound as it bobbed up and down, and broke into glassy shards when it encountered a nearby rock.  It was mesmerizing to watch and listen to its gentle sounds.

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We traveled only 3.5 kilometers, down the river and back.  But it was a rich and satisfying hike that allowed us to unwind and enjoy nature’s beauty without constraint.  It’s what a sunny winter afternoon should be.  It was sheer delight.

Birkie Spoken Here

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It is inevitable.  The hours and days following the American Birkebeiner are filled with conversation about nothing else.  The race is relived from every angle, tales told and retold, anecdotes recounted.  Websites are checked, photos are scrutinized and stats are calculated.

IMG_9591Four of us traveled to the Birkie together – me, my husband Rich, son Erik and our pastor Greg.  It was Erik and Greg’s first Birkie, so Rich and I felt like “old pros” with all of three Birkies under our belt beforehand.  The ride there was filled with anticipation, excitement and some anxiety.  The ride home was filled with talk.  There was no shortage of material.  With over 17 hours on the trail between us, we had plenty to relate, compare and analyze.

Waxes were deemed to be well chosen, although Erik and I regretted our final coat of blue which seemed slow at the beginning of the race.  The temperature was rated excellent for the race, and we were all happy with our chosen layers of clothing.  The deep new snow was a universal complaint.  And of course the hills, hills and more hills – enough said.  Erik literally ran out of fuel and lingered an embarrassingly long time at the final aid station to eat his way to renewed energy.  Greg regretted lugging his own water bottle, which he ceremoniously emptied near the end to lighten his load.  Molly lost a pole early in the race when a fellow skier stepped on it, and had to back up to retrieve it.  Rich captured the full DCIM100GOPROlength of the race with the “ski cam” on his back, snapping a photo every 30 seconds to accumulate 700 photos of the action behind him.  This one of the finish on Main Street reflects a sweet moment for all of us.

Of course, the conversation doesn’t stop there.  The inevitable question is, what about next year?  Erik is in.  He is already planning his training regimen.  He’s quite serious about this – he’s meeting with a personal trainer on Tuesday.  Greg says he’d have to have a moment of lunacy to sign up again.  But in the next breath he starts outlining his strategy.  Rich claims this Birkie was his last.  We’ve heard that before – how many marathons did he do after declaring his retirement?  I thought I wanted to take next year off and just enjoy skiing more.  But there’s something about the Birkie that draws one back.  And if I’m going to have to listen to them all talk about it, I might as well be able to enter the conversation.

Birkie Finishes 1-2-3

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Who would you bet on to cross the American Birkebeiner finish line first?

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Rich

  • Started first – 35 minute lead over Molly
  • Skiing 54k Classic Race, Wave 3 – 4k more than the others
  • 4th Birkie
  • Classic skier since jr high school days
  • Spent a week ago Wednesday in the Emergency Room, scheduled for surgery next week

 

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Molly

  • Started second – 40 minute lead over Erik
  • Skiing 50k Skate Race, Wave 5
  • 4th Birkie
  • Learned skate skiing 6 years ago, first ski race 5 years ago
  • Retired, able to train 7 days/week

 

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Erik

  • Started last – in the final wave
  • Skiing 50k Skate Race, Wave 9
  • 1st Birkie
  • Led his high school Nordic Ski Team in his Sectional meet
  • 4-year hiatus from skiing while attending college in a no-snow zone

 

.We peeled off from the lodge one-by-one, each heading out to ski our own race.  But for me, at least, I knew the others were out there.  I spent the race trying to catch Rich, and hoping to stay ahead of Erik.  Would I succeed?

First there was all the new snow to overcome.  I was in the middle of the pack, but it was already churned up enough to require a lot of extra work to maintain forward momentum.  Uphills are always deep with snow in the Birkie, but this was heavy soft snow which bogged down skiers on every incline.  Hills are my forte, but I never got to ski one at “my” pace.  I was fine with the slower speed on the downhills, however, even if it meant less of a head start on the inevitable uphill that followed.

Aid stations were welcome oases and blessedly frequent.  I anxiously sought out the volunteers offering cups of “Energy,” hoping the drink would deliver just that.  Fortunately, it usually did and I appreciated the extra boost, brief as it was.

As the kilometers passed, I kept a keen eye on the bib numbers around me.  When the classic and skate trails merged at 27k, I found myself in the midst of Wave 3 classic skiers – Rich’s wave.  About the same time, I saw the first Wave 9 bib pass me – Erik’s wave.  I could be in the vicinity of both family members!  It was a welcome diversion to watch for familiar figures.

So, how did it all end?  With success for everyone!  I crossed the finish line first, and was able to cheer on Rich and Erik finishing in that order.  I had my best Birkie ever – not in terms of time, but ranking much higher in my age and gender than ever before.  Rich overcame his medical condition, skied a more controlled race than usual and felt good afterwards – a first for him.  Erik completed his first Birkie, with a much faster time than Rich and me, and is already planning his training for next year.

We all finished.  The order is insignificant.