Posts Tagged ‘family’
Still Vibrating
After a day away at the rally on Saturday, life returned to normal yesterday on the ranch. Well, almost normal. Something is wrong with our furnace. I noticed the house temperature wasn’t holding on Saturday night, so I reset the power in hopes of achieving a quick resolution.
In the middle of the night, I saw the display was showing the house back up to 68° and imagined the reset had solved the problem. Unfortunately, when we looked at it first thing in the morning, it had dropped to 65° again. It being Sunday, we opted not to seek service until today, a regular business day.
I built a fire in the fireplace to take the edge off the morning chill and waited for the temperature outside to climb into the 60s.
It’s a little frustrating that we just had our annual furnace inspection a couple of weeks ago, and it was found to be in good working order. What odd timing, and during such relatively mild conditions for a problem to occur now.
There is one place where I am having just the opposite problem: too much heat.
The first compost pile of the season is cooking a little too hot already. The fertile garden soil factory is back in business.
As I was toiling in all things compost, I found my mind was still resonating with the energy and the impassioned faces that surrounded us on the Capitol Mall Saturday.
There were friends and some extended family in attendance, many of whom we weren’t able to connect with before leaving. Communication via text was made unreliable due to the sheer number of people all trying to utilize the same cell tower(s) simultaneously. Paul and Beth were near the stage. Pam and John were there somewhere. I got a text from Liz and Nick that they were there, but I only achieved a one-word reply in acknowledgement.
Cyndie was exchanging photos with friends in an attempt to establish each other’s location. Bob had a bike and never made it into the crowd near us. I was grateful we had gotten there early enough to easily find Rich and Jill, so we were able to share the experience with them. Julian and Allison took up a position more to their liking toward the edge of the main crush of people.
Between the overhead drone cameras and the State Patrol helicopter hovering, I hope they can come up with a reasonable estimate that all parties accept for the number of people in attendance. A more valuable measurement would be the level of combined invisible heart energy radiating throughout the crowd.
It was strong enough that it is vibrating with me still.
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Many People
We had a good experience in the middle of the crowd, which I’ve heard is estimated to be all the way from 50,000 to 200,000 in St. Paul, Minnesota, for No Kings Rally III. Being one short person in the middle of it all, I wasn’t able to get a sense of how many people, but I’ve been to our State Fair, and those crowds reach 200K. Regardless of whatever official number becomes agreed upon, it was a very respectable showing by the citizens of Minnesota, and it felt like the crowds at the Fair.
We skipped the marches, of which planners smartly held three from different directions, and went right to the Capitol, where we found friends standing near dead center beside the sound equipment tent. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see the speakers directly due to a scaffold filled with press personnel. Love ‘em and hate ‘em. We want the press there, just don’t want them completely blocking our views.
Thankfully, they had four large video screens and a respectable sound system. I thought each speaker did a fantastic job, too many folks for me to remember, but it did run a little longer than we were able to endure.
Governor Walz looked like he was in a flannel shirt. He always knows the right things to say. The signs were wonderful and entertaining. Most everyone was being family friendly, although there were plenty of F-bombs on signs, but at the end of one impassioned oration from the stage, a lone voice from the crowd yelled, “FUCK TRUMP!” and it was perfectly timed and met with universal approval. Sometimes you just have to say it.
Bernie was superb, yet it felt like the same speech he has been giving for decades without actually solving any of the wrongs he barks about. It was great, and depressing at the same time.
Bruce Springsteen singing his song protesting the deaths in Minneapolis at the hands of ICE goons was a special moment. By the time Jane Fonda took the stage, she was greatly rushed and commented that some of the speakers needed to leave to catch flights. That’s when Cyndie and our daughter were reaching their tolerance for standing (around 5 hours), so we started the difficult art of moving through stationary people to reach the edge of the masses. By the time Joan Baez was at the microphone, we were beyond the video screens, but we could hear some singing from the crowd.
That was a lot of staid Minnesotans showing up to uncharacteristically and unapologetically voice their disapproval very publicly. It was very moving at times. Brought a tear. Most of all, it fueled a new level of longing for the end of all the current shit and a return to true leadership that is bursting with compassion for ALL people. Every person there was wishing for the very same thing. It is powerful to be able to stand in the middle of that much combined hopeful human energy.
10/10, would do again.
Voicing Objection
It’s off to the Minnesota State Capitol in St. Paul we go today to participate in the 3rd NO KINGS! rally since the criminal administration unleashed its malfeasance. We are looking forward to hanging out with the predicted more than 100,000 people who also wish to voice their objections to EVERYTHING the bums are doing to our country.
It’s a crap shoot on whether we will find somewhere to park our car after picking up our children and driving to within a reasonable walking distance to the Capitol Mall. It would be nice to achieve a place to stand that is close enough to see the local officials and activists who will be speaking, but even nicer to spot Bruce Springsteen, Joan Baez, Jane Fonda, and Bernie Sanders. Their attendance brings this rally in Minnesota to a level of national significance.
If we are ever allowed to have history books that accurately portray reality in the years ahead, this event will be included in the list of resistance efforts that citizens have made over the ongoing destruction of our democracy.
At the very least, it would be nice if we could convince enough Republican officials to find their spines and stand up to the idiocracy staining our country and the rest of the world. Stopping the war mongering would be a nice gesture. Holding pedophiles accountable for their despicable crimes should be an easy decision.
Wherefore art thou, sensible Republicans?
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Watchin’ Basketball
I have trouble understanding how basketball referees decide when contact is a foul and when it isn’t. Last night’s four games of the sweet sixteen round of the NCAA Men’s were fun to watch, despite how often players “walk” with the ball and don’t get whistled for it.
Tonight, I will switch back to watching the Women play, since the lady Gophers are still alive in their tournament, having survived to the sweet sixteen for the first time since 2005. Wish us luck against UCLA.
There was a little competition for space in a chair between Asher and Cyndie yesterday. Not all sports were happening in tournaments. Our grand-nephew, Drew, stopped by for a visit from his dorm at UWRF, and that had Asher all excited and seeking nonstop attention.
Cyndie whipped up some Italian Beef sandwiches for dinner and served some fresh-baked goodies for dessert. Her buttery, super-sweet granola cookies were a big hit. I think I may have exceeded my daily sugar ration simply by looking at them. I ate several of them, just to make sure.
It’s a bad time to be consuming excess calories, since I spend a lot less time being active when there are so many March Madness games on TV, grabbing my entertainment attention. This would be a great case for powering the television with a treadmill. Then the only way I could watch would be by exercising.
In the meantime, my body at rest stays at rest.
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Unexpected Fun
Forgetting for a moment that citizens of our country are under attack from our own government was more fun than we expected yesterday. While the bowling by the unpracticed novices of our family qualified as comical, it takes a measurable level of personal strength to laugh at one’s own foibles displayed so openly among strangers. I’m pretty sure I accomplished rolling a gutter ball following a previous frame strike. D’oh!
After surviving the sensory overload of overly rambunctious youngsters, a pop music soundtrack, clanging and banging arcade machines, and plenty of crazy lighting effects, we made our way to the Namaste India Grill & Brewhouse for laughter around the table. With a menu of enough delectable choices to make my head spin, I don’t think there was a duplicate order among any of the six of us.
I treasured hearing an impassioned conversation from a booth nearby in a language I didn’t recognize. We arrived before the dinner rush and were able to witness the gradual increase of customers from a variety of nationalities filling the tables, which bolstered the atmosphere of fun.
Alone with Cyndie on the drive home after precious time with our kids, we discovered the best surprise of the day. Turning her attention to her phone for messages, Cyndie discovered calls from a friend from graduate school in San Diego, some 46 years ago.
Cyndie and her two best friends from that time in graduate school had lost touch over the years and miles, but Susan and Lupe were moved to search for Cyndie’s information to offer their support for the ongoing conflict in Minneapolis.
Apparently, I have written enough times about our life adventures that this blog, along with the details of our labyrinth location that we have submitted to the Labyrinth Society, provides enough clues to reach us. For the record, that is by design.
Cyndie was moved to tears to hear Susan’s voice on the message in the car and could hardly wait to call her back when we got home. I could see years melting away from Cyndie’s aura as she flipped through old photographs from such a long time ago.
I recognize that feeling of a bond with friends who shared such a significant time of life, the challenges of higher education, and the unknown places it might lead to for all of them.
The reconnection was an unexpected bonus of fun on our day. I picked up the excitement vicariously through how vividly it reinvigorated Cyndie. Finding out that this blog helped the three of them rediscover their friendship connection again warms my heart.
Thanks for your keen sleuthing efforts to find us, Susan and Lupe! LOVE!
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Feels Wrong
Amidst all the blatant misuse of power, the lies, and the unending obfuscation of the current U.S. administration, there seems to be little cause for hope among the average citizens. Unfortunately, this latest version of oppression that is being dished out for the greatest effect is not new to a large portion of the population that has been discriminated against for generations.
Those of us who never suffered the constant disdain from proper society folk aren’t used to dealing with this developing vilification and the increasingly violent actions against our constitutional rights. A good number of the recently offended are standing up in protest, making our voices heard. That’s a struggle to do day after day, especially when the Federal offenses continue to intensify.
My inclination this morning was to curl up with my head beneath my pillow, where I could pretend I am not living in the middle of the decline of our democracy, even though I know it would only help the oppressors to achieve their desired outcome.
Luckily, I have Cyndie in my life to help me carry on against the ugliness. She is not taking me by the arm to march in the streets today. No, she is applying a lesson she learned long ago from someone with first-hand life experience in being discriminated against.
Sometimes, even when you don’t feel like it, it’s important to get out and dance.
I guess I can see the logic, but it just feels so wrong to seek out joy when so many are being mistreated. Then it occurs to me that people have been suffering all the other times in my life when I was out on some grand adventure. How would this be different?
At least we are combining our plans to have some silly fun with our kids and their life partners today, with a goal of supporting small businesses that are experiencing focused abuse from the authoritarian crackdown.
We are thumbing our noses at those who want us to suffer. Our form of protest today will be achieved by not wallowing in our sorrows over the abuse from the tactical military outfitted thugs stomping on citizens’ rights. We will be laughing, loving, and feeding each other’s souls with happy energy at a time when all of our resources of these gifts feel low.
If it starts to feel wrong to be happy, maybe we will chant “ICE OUT!” a few times before sharing our smiles with an immigrant server or their neighbors in a suburb of St. Paul, Minnesota. We aren’t actually attending a dance. I’m afraid I will need to pretend I remember how to throw a bowling ball down a lane toward ten pins.
I’m guessing it may feel cathartic to knock things down in a harmless way.
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Big Sigh
It’s all over for another year. The grand Christmas-palooza that Cyndie’s family puts on starts with a dinner on the eve and then breakfast and presents on the day, followed by time for a nap before an evening meal and games. Dinner on the 24th occurred in an event room at the senior living complex where Cyndie’s mom lives.
The younger volunteers were racing to roll doubles to steal the present before the person ahead of them was able to unwrap it while wearing oven mitts. The presents were wrapped with multiple layers. Cruel.
Cyndie and I made the drive to the cities and back three times in the two days. We took advantage of the car time to hear more mind-blowing episodes from The Telepathy Tapes. So fascinating.
When we got home after the Christmas Eve dinner, already after our normal bedtime, Cyndie assembled the caramel rolls she would bring to breakfast the following morning.
After leaving them to raise over night, she put the pans in the oven in the morning while I took care of horse chores.
We drove some extra miles to get to the house that her brother, Steve, is renting on Lake Minnetonka while his house is being rebuilt after the fire.
Between the exquisite food served at each of the three meals and the irresistible sweets offered for dessert, I violated any measure of appropriate caloric intake and blissfully consumed more yummy goodness than I should have.
Santa (Marie) brought me a new pair of chopper mittens! Wasn’t I just raving about those…?
It was a holiday of pure love among loud family conversations, gift exchanging, some singing, and fancy feasting.
Today feels like a big sigh of relief, now that the events and repeated commuting of the last 36 hours are behind us. It’s always a lot of fun, but part of me feels a little extra appreciation to be home again and returning to our normal routines.
The hard part will be convincing my body that it needs to return to normal calories now.
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Projects Delivered
There is a special satisfaction that comes with seeing our handiwork reach its intended destination. Yesterday, we held our traditional early gift exchange and feast with just our kids and their loves before the Christmas gatherings of extended family planned for later this week.
I have already featured a project I had been working on, sharing photos of the progress on two mirrored hearts I made from one Y section of the oak tree that fell last summer. I gave them to Elysa and Julian to have and hold.
It’s a little redundant to give someone your heart when they already have it, but these offer a more tangible reminder, no?
There was one other project underway in our house that I have not shared photos of in order to preserve the surprise.
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Cyndie took on the task of sewing two quilts simultaneously for the kids. Seems to me that one quilt with a hard deadline would be enough of a challenge, but that just shows another example of how different Cyndie and I are.
Crafts such as this are one of several ways Cyndie shows no fear. It is a way that her sometimes unique version of logic is revealed to be a superpower, because it was not logical that anyone would be able to pull this off in the short amount of time that she did. Now two kitty-loving families have similar (you could almost say mirrored) handmade blankets of whimsical cat silhouettes to stay warm under.
Projects delivered. It’s definitely a massive joy to gift others with items crafted by our own hands.
Of course, Cyndie had so much more to give. After presents were exchanged, we feasted on Italian beef or seasoned jackfruit sandwiches she whipped up, after we had already test-tasted her first-ever homemade almond kringle. Sides included a fancy lettuce salad with homemade candied nuts, fancy roasted new potatoes, and cut fresh fruits, finished with a unique pile of marshmallow-corn flake wreaths that were supposed to be a tree.
Turned out to be more of a Christmas bush than a tree.
Here’s looking forward to whatever the next project is that she comes up with to deliver, despite there being only 24 hours in a day.
Happy winter solstice! Ho ho ho!
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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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Relative Something 