Posts Tagged ‘family’
Cookies Aplenty
The morning after Cyndie’s two days of unadulterated Christmas cookie baking dawns with the results neatly packaged for distribution.
My blood sugar is probably still out of whack after sampling way too many varieties over the weekend. Niece, Althea, and son, Julian, showed up to contribute their energies to the effort yesterday, keeping the festive feeling in full swing.
The head baker decided to repackage the entire inventory before beginning the extra effort of cleaning up a mess that a multi-day baking extravaganza creates.
With that epic effort behind her, it’s out of the kitchen and into the horse chores. Our schedule got doubled up today with a planned visit from the farrier happening on the same day as an unexpected delivery of hay bales that will need to be stacked in the shed.
There will be no rest for the weary.
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Like Dad
Baby, it’s cold outside. The horses had frosty whiskers this morning, to rival all the other deep-freeze overnight lows they’ve endured in their time with us.
While the air was exceedingly crisp outside, the house was toastier than Santa’s workshop with Cyndie’s Christmas Cookie-palooza, Day 1, in full swing. The double oven was working overtime to keep up with all the delectible treats Cyndie and her team of guests were moving through it. The post-bake decorating station was a spectacle this year, with frostings and sprinkles applied to the wafting sounds of a unique mix of Christmas music, courtesy of some algorithm at Apple Music.
Since I was in charge of keeping the fire fed in the fireplace and the dog’s nose pointed anywhere other than at foodstuffs, I let the whole operation pass without taking a single photo. I apologize. That was a total lapse of thinking on my part. I did get a shot of some behind-the-scenes aftermath, though.
I stopped by the kitchen to take a photo of a recent success on my part that had me thinking of my dad. A little of his mechanical ingenuity and DIY solutions were passed to me, along with his exceptional ability to tolerate unfinished projects.
For some 10 or 12 years, Cyndie has begrudgingly lived with a problematic corner cabinet that has a pair of lazy susan shelves where we store pots and pans. When it would get stuck, I assumed it was because pan handles weren’t being oriented logically, or it was being overstuffed. When it became stiff, a confident nudge from my foot would close it just fine.
When the shelves finally collapsed from the top and bottom brackets two days ago, I was forced to figure out how it was supposed to work. How the heck did they install it in the first place? Oh, there are adjustment screws. Hmm.
I discovered there was a detent in the plastic top piece that was supposed to match the springy metal brace. Imagine that.
A Philips screwdriver, ten minutes of puttering with adjustments, and we had a perfectly functioning lazy susan corner cabinet. I could have done that years ago. I suppose Cyndie wouldn’t be quite as thrilled with the results if it hadn’t been an ongoing nuisance for a decade.
The quick fix had me feeling chuffed. Figuring out how it was supposed to work reminded me of my dad’s keen skills in that realm. Realizing I had let something go for years without properly solving it dampened my pride and reminded me that I inherited both good and bad traits from that wonderful, complex, ingenious, troubled man that I both looked up to and feared in the years we were both alive.
I think Dad would have approved of the way I fixed that corner lazy susan by figuring out the way it was intended to work.
I’m going to focus on that and not on how long it took for me to get around to it.
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Basilica Luminisced
We kicked off the season of family events for the holidays with a pre-Thanksgiving night out last night for dinner in downtown Minneapolis at Crave restaurant before seeing a performance of LUMINISCENCE at The Basilica of Saint Mary on Hennepin Avenue.
What a spectacle! 360° 3D projection set to a recorded track of dialogue and music, interwoven with a live choral performance. The light show was ever-changing, but Cyndie captured some samples that show a little of the variety of impressions they are able to create.
There were seven of us in attendance, including our kids and Cyndie’s mom. Somehow, we navigated getting us all to the restaurant and then into and out of the Basilica with relative ease. That’s a little surprising since there was a second show after ours and people were coming in as we were trying to get out, both from the Basilica and in the parking lot.
We had a little help from Marie’s superpower of advanced age, using her handicapped parking permit and being allowed to use the handicap accessible entrance and elevator to get to the sanctuary.
Elysa and her cousin, Althea, had been out the night before to hear music at The Palace Theatre and turned to find Elysa’s cousin, Monty, from the Hays side of the family. Julian reported having attended a different music show on Friday night, and Althea said her brother, Trygve, had also attended the same show.
I won’t be surprised if I learn there were other family members at last night’s Basilica show that we didn’t know about. In three days, we’ll be with more of Cyndie’s side of the family for Thanksgiving.
It definitely feels like holiday family time is off to a good start for us this year.
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Bursting Hearts
Latest heart shape update: I find myself wrestling in my mind over leaving the natural imbalance of the two sides or working more intently to bring greater symmetry to the piece.
This is from the third large tree that fell last summer: the oak. It can roughly be compared to the size of a soccer ball, and as a result, it is a pretty heavy hunk of wood. Another option I’m keeping in mind is that shrinking it down to reach a more symmetrical shape would likely eliminate the remnants of the inner bark that have yet to be sanded away.
That inner bark does add some unusual aspects to the overall look, but it also obscures the appearance of the classic oak woodgrain that might be hiding just beneath. The next time I get my hands on it, I expect I’ll go with whatever my heart tells me to do next.
Yesterday afternoon, Cyndie and I gave our hearts to friends who host an annual Gopher football tailgate party memorial in honor of their daughter, who was a passionate fan.
We didn’t have tickets to the game, so our visit was just for the pre-game festivities. As soon as we located our friends, we were accosted by a loud bear of a guy from an adjacent gathering who kicked over his son’s drink in his zest to wrap us in a wonderful, loving hug.
Our next-door neighbors at the Wildwood lake place up in Hayward were tailgating right beside us. On top of that, Cyndie was able to facilitate a special introduction between the two. Her friend, Lisa, and our Wildwood friend, Tom, had yet to meet in person, even though they had worked remotely together on a memorial garden for Lisa’s daughter.
While we were all enjoying the festivities, it occurred to me that my cycling friend, Doobie, would likely be tailgating, too. I shot off a text to him with our faces in front of the Gophers canopy and learned he was already inside the stadium, volunteering at the M Club. He kindly invited us to join them because they had tickets to spare.
It was an embarrassment of friendship riches.
We had to pass up the chance to watch the game in person because we already had a date for the afternoon with our kids to hang out together for happy hour at a pub conveniently located between their two homes. So, it was a combination of friendship and family riches, for which we are greatly blessed.
We were able to achieve all this fabulous socializing due to the help of local UWRF students, who we have hired as short-term animal sitters for just such occasions.
It’s no wonder I find myself wanting to sculpt bigger-than-life heart shapes. My own is bursting with goodness via the connections with lovely people!
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Following Through
After writing my thoughts yesterday about protecting the small volunteer Cedar tree from the risk of having its main leader chewed off by deer, I figured it would be prudent to follow through without procrastinating. It’s funny how simple it can be to take action, yet my natural inclination aligns more with not doing things until action cannot be avoided.
The first thing I did after breakfast was to gather the materials and install a protective fence around the little tree. Now I will have a good reference for measuring how much height it gains in the next growing season. The other volunteer Cedar tree located on the far end of that field is about twice the size of this one. It’s big enough that it doesn’t need protection.
While in that field, taking care of desirable trees, I spotted three invasive common buckthorn trees that quickly became the focus of my next efforts. Two of them had obviously been cut before and were now more like a bush. I should have done this in the first place, but this time I went to get tools to dig the roots up and eradicate the nuisances once and for all.
The third troublemaker turned out to be a female with berries. I don’t know how it went unnoticed until now, except maybe because it was in the middle of a significant poison ivy area. I forged in there regardless and dug up the plant roots and any poison ivy shoots tangled within.
I’ll find out tomorrow whether I washed away any oils thoroughly enough to prevent a rash.
Two more highlights of the day involved an interview with a potential new animal sitter and then a dinner out with family to celebrate Julian’s birthday.
We got a nibble from a post Cyndie put on a job board at the University of Wisconsin, River Falls. There are students studying to become Veterinary Technicians who are perfect candidates for taking care of horses.
The woman we met yesterday is also a skilled softball player, so we will need to work around practices and the schedule for that sport if she chooses to help us out this year.
For dinner, Cyndie found a gem of a restaurant in Stillwater with a lean toward a Greek menu that none of us had known about before. Phil’s Tara Hideawy is a little off the main drag and looks like a rather unassuming log lodge from the road.
Once inside, it was bustling with energy and very busy. We were wise to have made reservations. The food was delicious and plentiful. After sharing three appetizers, we all had leftovers of our entrees to bring home afterwards.
It was a wonderful place for celebrating another family milestone and sharing memories of our years gone by.
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Not Colorful
The leaves are changing, but not into the glorious reds, yellows, and oranges one expects in the fall. No, this year we are getting a predominant dose of browns.
I don’t know if it’s due to dry conditions or something else, but trees that have been brilliant in past autumns are simply transitioning to shriveled brown leaves this year.
It’s hardly the glorious spectacle we wanted when Cyndie and I chose September to be our wedding month. That just so happened to occur 44 years ago on this exact date. I believe we had a fair amount of color in the trees in 1981. I don’t think I paid a lot of attention to the fall colors, what with my beautiful bride commanding all of my focus that day.
Seven years after that, our son, Julian, was born on the same day as our anniversary. So today is a day of celebration in the Hays family. Tonight, Cyndie and I have reservations at the Shady Grove restaurant, about 4 minutes away from our house. Tomorrow, we meet our kids for dinner in Stillwater to toast Julian.
Maybe we’ll get lucky and find some colorful trees on our drive along the St. Croix River.
It’s a Happy Birthniversary Day!
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Brothers All
In a single day, we were with all of Cyndie’s brothers as well as her mom yesterday. We started the day with Barry and Carlos in Maine and then had dinner in St. Paul, Minnesota, with the rest of the clan for Marie’s 88th birthday celebration.
The snapshot above is a photo I took when Barry was showing Cyndie where the many volunteer shoots of birch trees were available for pulling. Why would she pull up their baby birch trees?
Never one to be intimidated by logical limitations about packing live plants in a plastic bread bag to stuff into an already full carry-on bag that gets crammed below the seat in front of her on an airplane, Cyndie brought home trees from the garden in Maine to plant somewhere around Wintervale.
I will not fixate on the long odds for her success, but instead plan to help scout out a new location where we can nurse the new transplants toward some percentage of actually surviving.
After hugging Barry and Carlos one last time as we dropped them off at their condo, we returned the wildebeest to the car rental company and boarded a shuttle headed toward our gate. Have I mentioned how much I would prefer to avoid air travel?
Mike got a ping on his phone about a delay in our flight home. As he attempted to navigate the information on the app, Barb’s and his tickets mysteriously disappeared. Cyndie still had our boarding pass screens on her phone, so Mike called the Delta service for preferred customers to work on solving the mystery.
It was a good thing we had arrived with time to spare, because it took a nerve-wrackingly long time to fix whatever had just gone wrong. In the end, their seats were re-established, and we were safe to proceed. However, the flight delay remained, and we lost precious time on our tight schedule to leave Boston and get home in time for dinner with the family members who would be gathering to celebrate Marie’s birthday.
We got to our car in St. Paul roughly a half-hour after the time of our reservation at Holman’s Table restaurant. Luckily, we were only 15 minutes away. Our daughter, Elysa, texted that the appetizers were just arriving at their table.
We showed up before they had even given their dinner orders. A family birthday celebration for the matriarch is a pretty special finish to our adventures of the previous week.
Some silliness ensued. Happy Birthday, Marie!
Dinner with the family wasn’t the final treat of our big day, though. After driving another 50 minutes in the dark to get to our house, we were rewarded with the cutest puppy-like reception from Asher when we got inside.
Gee, but it’s great to be back home…
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Return Flight
It’s been a grand time at Barry and Carlos’ camp on Colcord Pond, but this morning we need to pack up and drive back to Boston to drop off the rented wildebeest and get to the airport for our flight home.
We made the best of our last full day at camp yesterday by hiking to the top of Bald Ledge, which overlooks the lake. Before heading out for the trek, Mike and I walked down to the water, where I snapped today’s featured photo. Soon after, I noticed our shadows and took a picture. Mike provided me with the classic bunny ears.
The trailhead is within walking distance of their cabin, allowing us to hike for about an hour to reach the summit at 1185 ft.
The sky changed from clear to cloudy several times during the hike and throughout the rest of the afternoon, casting shadows over the treetops covering the landscape all the way to the horizon. A clear overhead view of Colcord Pond is impossible to miss. It is an interesting contrast to the picture I took when standing on the shore just over an hour earlier.
It won’t be long until the color scheme changes from green to shades of orange, yellow, and red. The coming transition is already visible around the edges of the crowns of some of the trees. Down below the canopy, where the trail meanders over roots and rocks, the change doesn’t seem as imminent.
We sustained ourselves with a light lunch upon our return to the camp before taking a refreshing dip in the lake one last time. After a little siesta, the masters of food preparation rustled up a first-class spread of crackers, cheeses, spreads, olives, and salami, accompanied by some before-dinner beverages.
Neighbors John and Bethany joined us for a feast of grilled burgers, baked beans, and corn-on-the-cob. Laughter and lively stories flowed joyfully along before we entered into some friendly competition with playing cards.
Now we must stuff our suitcases and load the SUV to begin another day of travel. Look out, airport security, here we come. I can’t wait to receive my two cookies with a cup of water mid-flight. If there are no delays to mess up our plans, we will be having dinner with family to celebrate Cyndie’s mom’s birthday soon after we land.
It shouldn’t shock you to read that I am really looking forward to reaching our home again a few hours after that.
Massive beams of love to Barry and Carlos for allowing us to clutter up their living spaces and for their gracious hospitality to the nth degree in every aspect of our visit. Also, to Mike and Barb for being wonderful travel companions once again.
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Around Cornish
Pausing outside Barry and Carlos’ place for a moment, waiting to load into the huge rented SUV for a jaunt to Cornish, I balanced some rocks. How long until they’ll topple becomes a subject of interest each time we pass.
Before we reach Cornish, the closest hub of commerce for the summer camps in this area, the vehicle that we’ve been referring to as “the wildebeest” (as in BEAST) made a stop at the waste transfer station. Carlos carried the bag of recycling in one direction, and Barry took the bag of trash somewhere else.
Carlos returned directly, and Barry didn’t. After a brief delay, he reappeared with an apology. He ran into someone they knew, and they had a chat. This was a hint of what we soon learned is common wherever Barry and Carlos go in the vicinity of both their place in Boston and here in Maine.
Mere seconds after Barry parked the beast in Cornish, we were standing in the road, being introduced to someone they knew. Most of the antique or craft shops we browsed included a pause for Barry and Carlos to catch up on news or introduce us to someone with whom they have a connection.
It felt a little like we were enjoying the honor of walking around with the local mayor(s).
After walking the shops, the wildebeest made a stop at the grocery store so we could augment our food stores in preparation for hosting neighbors for grilled burgers tonight. The highlight of that stop was Mike’s noble deed of quietly buying a batch of bananas to gift a mom and her son after he overheard the boy’s request get turned down because she couldn’t afford them. Mike said he got a hug from her as she mentioned that tariffs are killing them. Ouch.
Back at camp, we ate a light lunch, saving room for our early dinner reservation at Max’s Restaurant & Pub at the romantic Snowvillage Inn located in Eaton Center, NH. Cyndie and Barry decided on an earlier-than-usual timing to allow for daylight viewing of the majestic Mount Washington and the White Mountains out the window of the dining areas.
Before settling down for a short pre-dinner nap, Barry guided us on a walking tour of the neighboring camps, describing all the owners and relationships to a degree worthy of a scholarly genealogist. I’m afraid I would miserably fail if there were a test on all that we might have learned.
Since dinner was early, there was plenty of time for a frivolous card game on the porch after we got back. Snack almonds were designated as a method to tally our losses. When you lost a hand, you ate a nut. Luckily, the bag was close by for Carlos to replace his “chips” each time he accidentally ate one in the middle of a hand.
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Hiking Foothills
Friday started with a breakfast of some eggs, bacon, a variety of fruits, and three different flavor versions of Cyndie’s fresh-baked scones. That became fuel we used to go for a short hike up Foss Mountain in Eaton, New Hampshire. The area is among the foothills of the White Mountains.
The most significant portion of the expedition is the need for four-wheel drive, high clearance navigation up the steep, rarely-graded one-lane gravel incline to reach a small parking area for the final half-mile walk to the top. There was one other vehicle parked when we arrived, and we found a family of three at the top as we reached the peak. I snapped today’s primary photo, capturing the man patiently waiting for his balloon to look just right for a picture he was after.
The scenery around Foss Mountain is prime territory for viewing the brilliant colors of autumn leaves. The ground along the climb and around the rocky surfaces at the top is covered with blueberry bushes. The vast fields on the way up are privately owned and off limits for picking, but visitors are free to collect berries at the top. We showed up between the seasons of fall colors and ripe berries.
You take what you get, and we were no less rewarded, being there on a warm, blue-sky September day.
Having just returned from bicycling in the Black Hills of South Dakota, I looked at the steep, rough gravel road with appreciation that I wasn’t pedaling my way up and back down the incline.
Barry drove us along two different winding scenic routes to and from the hike, extending our New Hampshire adventure with time to take in a multitude of classic New England views, including quaint communities, old burial grounds, beautiful landscapes, and wonderful old homes, farms, small businesses, and churches.
Stumbling upon Bobby Sue’s Homemade Ice Cream and Waffle Cones shop was a bonus. Even though we hadn’t had lunch yet, we treated ourselves to dessert first. It was as divine as our minds hoped it was going to be.
It served as a delicious accent to emphasize that we were on a vacation from our usual routines.
Relative Something 