And now...A Read with a View

Since it was such a gorgeous day out, in at least the 60's, I decided to spend the afternoon outdoors and away from my computer. I grabbed a book and my backpack, hopped on my bike and went over to Charles Lindberg State park. I've mapped out a walking route there. It was sunny and warm and I knew the exact spot I wanted to sit and read. There's a little bridge that crosses a small stream on the far side of the park. I decided I'd stop at this bridge to read because it was only 10 minutes in. I figured doing my long walk after reading would be smarter because than I'd have all that time to contemplate what I had read, afterall I brought one of those "thinking" books or so I thought. The book I grabbed was "The Power of Now" by Eckhart Tolle. Some find it controversial, some find it life changing, some have deemed it "cultish", others love it. But I wanted to read it for myself and felt like today was the day to start it. Afterall, I was trying not to succumb to my facebook addiction so finding a good read, and an intellectual one at that, made me feel a little better about myself.

So I set off on a journey to exercise my body and my mind. But within the first couple of pages, I was told I shouldn't think too much. That I needed to just be more aware of the now and not tie myself so compulsive thinking--which I totally do. I overanalyze many situations. I have a very difficult time sometimes just turning it all off. Like at night, I lay awake "thinking" too much. So I made a very concerted effert to just "be present in the now". This is much easier for me to do in nature so I guess I picked the right spot. It was definitely a read with a view.

I captured a little bit of the view I had. I guess I could say I captured a little bit of my "now", that was then and isn't really now anymore. I decided to do so with the video function on my camera because then you get a more wholistic picture with the sound of the babbling brook, the sparkle of the sunshine off the water, the wind going through what crispy leaves were left on the trees, and the other sounds of nature that surrounded me. But beware. I did not have a tripod so the camera moves ever so slightly with my breathing. So if you need to, shut your eyes and just listen. Or if it's too much you can just go find your own read with a view.


B: 8.15 miles, W: 4 miles

Link to video

Ignorance and Apathy

My dad used to tell this joke: What's the difference between ignorance and apathy? Answer: I don't know and I don't care.

That's a good one for this blog entry because I don't know what to write about, but since I ran I wanted it documented and felt I needed to say something--just didn't know what. I do care however, so I guess I'm just being ignorant and not apathetic. So there!




R: 3.6 miles 32 min 16 sec

Himdag

Today was the funeral for my friend's brother Erik who passed away last week. It was actually the third service that was done in his honor. Two other services were conducted in AZ where he lived. Since he was a professor at one of the tribal colleges one of the services was done by the Tohono O'odham Nation, the Native American tribe which the college served. I hear it was a beautiful tribute, full of rituals of the culture within which he lived, loved and was embraced. In otherwords, it reflected true Tohono O'odham "Himdag".

Himdag is a Native term to describe the all-encompassing package of one's existence in the world reflective of his or her culture. Undestanding this and studying this is a high value at the college where Erik taught. As described at the tribal college's website, himdag "consists of the culture, way of life, and values that are uniquely held and displayed by the Tohono O’odham people. Himdag incorporates everything in life that makes us unique as individuals and as a people." What really struck me is that himdag is described as "a lifelong journey." So on this day where we gathered to honor Erik's life and acknowledge his passing, it seems only fitting that I learned about the importance of himdag.

**The figure above is known as the "Man in the maze," an emblem of the Tohono O'odham Nation of Southern Arizona (formerly known as the Papago Indians). The design, depicting a man exiting a labrynth, is most often seen on basketry dating back as far as the nineteenth century, and occasionally in Hopi silver art. Labrynths are common motifs in ancient petroglyphs (Native American rock art), and often resemble those found in ancient Greece and other parts of the world.
This symbol is said to represent a person's journey through life. Although the design appears to be a maze, it is actually a unicursal figure with many twists and turns; these are said to represent choices made in life. The center is dark, as the journey is one from darkness to light.

Excerpt From: altreligion.about.com/library/glossary/symbols/bldefsmaninthemaze.htm

For more information on Tohono O'odham Community College: http://www.tocc.cc.az.us/

Winning is Everything...or is it?

I was asked to help out at the college state volleyball tournament this past weekend. Eight teams competed for the title of state champion and the right to move on to the regional tournament. So you'd think that winning would be everything. However, more than one team gets to move on to the regional tournamnet. This has always confused me and to tell you the truth, I'm still not totally clear. There are two regions in Minnesota--the north and the south. Because of MN's strength in past tournaments we get two representatives to the National tournament. How to qualify for the region tourney depends on if you're in the north or the south because they each have their own way. And what it comes down to is that some teams playing in the state tourney can still qualify and move on to the regional even if they didn't win. So winning isn't everything. For example, Central Lakes College came in 6th out of 8 and will still be going to the Regional tournament. No wonder I'm so confused!!!!

It was interesting to watch the different dynamics of the teams and coaches that played in this type of atmosphere. Some teams came in with the mindset of winning the title and that anything less than that was a failure. Winning is everthing. Other teams came in knowing they had already qualified for regionals so this tournament didn't really matter and so it appeared they played half-heartedly. Winning isn't everything. Other teams cared more for beating their rivals than their bracket stadings. Winning is sometimes everything. Some teams rose to the challenges presented to them while others caved under pressure. Some teams went out and had fun and commoraderie while playing and other teams were stoic and serious and barely talked to each other. It was all very interesting to watch.

I also noticed different coaching styles. There were coaches that would yell and scream at the players. There were coaches that would not say anything until there was a time out. Some used positive reinforcement and others only pointed out mistakes. There were coaches that yelled at the officials and ones that would shake hands with them after the match.One coach when his team was losing glared at his players and then refused to talk to them even during the time out. This particular coach was also quite rude to several of us who were working the tournament. When I made some comment to Jane Peterson, the CLC coach, she replied that "he is a really nice guy". I wouldn't have guessed that from his behavior on the court.

The whole weekend was a great case study in behavior, teamwork, motivation, and cetainly interpersonal communication which begs the question...is winning everything?

Facebook Intervention Please!

Hello, my name is Kari and I am a facebook addict. Seriously, I think I need an intervention. My friends tell me "I need a life" but that's the problem, I have too many lives on facebook. There are too many responsibilities to let go. I HAVE to check in. If I didn't, who knows what would happen. I mean, what if I get kidnapped to Mumbai? What if someone sends me good karma and I don't send it back? I don't want bad luck coming my way because I was selfish and kept all the good karma for myself! I can't just up and leave. I have a lil green patch with flowers and vegatbles depending on me. I have a lil blue cove with fishes that might need feeding. I have a farm that has crops that need to be harvested or they'll spoil. There are hatching eggs whose progress I need to monitor. My sea gardens has creatures that could get hit by an oil tanker. I have smiles to return, coffee to send, gifts to receive and return. I don't want someone to be offended if they superpoke me and I don't poke them back. What kind of interpersonal communication teacher would I be if I let that happen?

And maybe my time on facebook is doing the world good. Afterall, I'm saving the rainforest and helping ocean charities like the Surfer Foundation. I'm supporting the fight against breast cancer and encouraging people to vote. Isn't doing wordtwist puzzles stimulating brain cells? And what harm can there be in sending karma, positive wishes and gifts to people? Which reminds me, I need to finish up this blog so I can go send some more gifts.

I know it's not even Halloween but I already have gifts that are coming to go under my tree or in my stocking. I have word twist challenges that people are waiting for me to finish. And heaven forbid, I can't leave facebook alone--what would happen if I can't fling food back at my supposed friends? Wait. I know the answer to that one...I'd LOSE!!!! So what if I have 10 active food flinging fights going on right now. At least I'm not as bad as Amy who has 27 active games the last time I checked, 3 of which are against me!

Ah, but truth be told...I am as bad as Amy...maybe worse...you see I reached an all time low...I sold my soul to the mob for a measley 25 food flinging points. I HAD to. I didn't have enough points to fling back if I wouldn't have joined. It's not like I wanted to join. I needed the points and I needed them NOW. I can control what applications I participate in. I was planning on removing it after I got the points so really no harm was done. So what if I burned all the points right away and was left needing another fix? It's just a game, it's not like the real mob. But that's when I knew I needed an intervention.

Now I don't mean to make fun of addictions because they can be very harmful. But I do think there are many different types of addictions and computer addictions are real. And I DO need to be careful and I should try harder to remove myself from my computer and that constant desire to check in to my facebook account or it could become a problem. So for me the question is does facebook really help you?


R: 4.5 miles 45 min (minus 3 min warm-up walk) 500+ calories burned

Khob Khun Ka-Cultural Gift Giving and Receiving

I got up at 5 am on Monday morning which would be early for me anyway but considering I'm on sabbatical it's even more amazing. What would get me up this early? A Presidential request to travel to the Cities on the CLC bus in order to greet the incoming Thai delegation. Sixteen doctorial students and their instructor were in the US studying education systems of Minnesota. On their docket was Central Lakes College. I was more than happy to spend some time with them as the organizer, Samnao Kajornsin (Doctor Sam to us) was someone who helped organize our trip to Thailand in Dec 2006/January 2007. As I quickly learned, reciprocation is highly valued in Thailand as is the practice and importance of gift giving.

Central Lakes College had actually been on Doctor Sam's first trip back in the fall of 2006. That trip was comprised of about 15-20 teachers from Thailand who made a quick visit to Brainerd. I remember a large number had been from the Chaing Mai area. As we had lunch with this first group of individuals many asked if we had ever been to Thailand or if we would like to go. "Of course" was my response, "I'd love to go" not thinking it would ever really happen. But within just a few months of this their visit, six CLC instructors and President Lundblad were on our way.

We were greeted with great hospitality and were showered with gifts at almost every meeting. Luckily some of our Thai CLC students and told us we should bring some gifts with us as signs of our appreciation. We underestimated the importance of this cultural norm and found ourselves almost shorthanded. You see, the giving of gifts is done as a relationship-builder, a sign of mutual respect and is always done through a formal presentation (followed by numerous pictures of the gift being exchanged between the two parties). As a traveler it was quite nice to be able to come home with these momentos from our trip. But more importantly, I view them as signs of the connection I still have with the Thai people we encountered.

So here I was , 2 years later, being asked to represent the college as CLC host for the new Thai delegates and our friend Doctor Sam. I was happy to return the favor he had provided us and the rest of the CLC group. But my first question was "do we have gifts for them?" So pictured you'll see the key chain from CLC that was presented to them upon our meeting and the two gifts I received from them over the two days spent with them: a silver key chain with elephants, and the beautiful silk scarf. Many thank you's were given that day as the Thai I've met are extremely gracious. When I was given my gifts I said thank you in Thai which is "Khob Khun Ka".

Gift giving serves many purposes and because it is done within a cultural context, research most be done ahead of time as to not send the wrong message. What is given, when it is given, how much is spent on the gift, and to whom and from whom it is given all play a part in whether or not it will be received well. Check out the following site in order to better understand some of the cultural norms and expectations that revolve around gift giving:

http://www.culturalsavvy.com/gift_giving.htm

Then test how savvy you'd be by taking this quiz from Kwintessential Cross Cultural Solutions:

http://www.kwintessential.co.uk/resources/quiz/gift-giving.php

W: 3 1/2 miles

FTF and other acronyms

We had to go "up north" for the football playoff game. Since we had a little time to spare we decided to do a little geocaching on the way as there were some new caches placed this week. We were very excited that we were able to claim two FTF's. Of course we had to log one DNF too. Don't know what happened there. But even though it didn't go as planned we couldn't be sure that the cache wasn't there so we ended our note with the usual TFTC. Although TFTH would have been more appropriate in this case. Since all the caches were small we TNLN.

A little lost? Well if you're an experienced cacher you probably understand the jargon we've used here. Each of these acronyms are commonly used by geocachers ("cachers" for short) when they make notes on the online cache log. However, if you don't cache or noone has shared the meaning with you, they're just a bunch of letters. An ancronym is a series of letters that is created by taking the first letter of each word and putting them together to form an abbreviation for a phrase. In this case FTF stands for "first to find" which is a boasting point for most geocachers. It certainly beats having to admit to a "DNF" or "did not find". Although sometimes that's the result of a cache being "muggled" or taken away from its hiding spot by someone who does not support geocaching. TFTC is short for "thanks for the cache" and is a way many people end their online log for that cache. However, some people thank the cache placer for the opportunity for the "hunt" and therefore end with TFTH. Finally TNLN stands for "took nothing left nothing". Since geocaching often involves swapping "swag" (nonperishable goodies and trinkets) we usually log what we took and what we left so future cachers know where the items came from.

Sometimes acronyms are used to shorten names of places, professions, or businesses. For example, if you make an appointment at the ENT desk you probably have something affecting your ear nose or throat. The American Association of Retired People goes by the acronym AARP. When the club I advised went to clean the ditches for the adopt a highway program we had to pick up vests from the local DOT or the Department of Transportation. And in case you didn't know it, Central Lakes College (CLC) is part of MNSCU which stands for Minnesota State Colleges and Universities which includes all colleges in Minnesota that aren't private or part of the U of M system (University of Minnesota). So you see, sometimes acronyms can use initials word for word, sometimes they include real words within the acronym, sometimes skip a word completely or sometimes are comprised by using more than one letter from each word. And of course there are abbreviated versions of words or words that are morphed like blog which is shortened from web log.

The problem that can occur there is that sometimes very different objects can have the same acronym so then it becomes important to know the context of how the acronym is being used. Giving blood for the ARC means you support the American Red Cross. My friend however worked for the American Refugee Commitee which helps survivors of conflicts and disasters around the world (also ARC). If someone has a child who is mentally challenged they may belong to the Association for Retarded Citizens (another ARC). Of course there's also the Appalachian Regional Commission, Airlines Reporting Corporation, and even American River College--yep---ARC, ARC and ARC. So it can get confusing. According to the "acronym finder" website and the "acronym attic" (which searches over 3 million acronyms, abbreviations and intialisms) there are 281 verified uses alone for the acronym ACE, which by the way does include the way we use the acronym on our campus to describe the Academic Center for Excellence.

So no matter how the acronyms are formed they all have one thing in common--they will only be benefical and assist in the communication process if both parties share the intended meaning. So be careful of when and how you use them even if you're excited and can't wait to share the news that you were out geocaching and were FTF!

Looking at life, death, and channels

Friday morning I received a phone call informing me that a good friend of mine lost her brother to a heart attack the night before. He was only 45 years old. I debated about using this topic in my blog, but decided that since he was a teacher too, that he might like the idea that I am celebrating his life and legacy in my class by honoring his passion for education.

Eric was a teacher in Arizona and was well respected by his students and colleagues. When he missed some of his classes, the college was concerned and called the emergency contact listed on his employment papers--his mother, who lives here in Minnesota. After trying to reach him by phone they ended up calling the police requesting that they go check out his apartment. The family was told this would be done. They didn't tell them however the whole context, which apparently was that they would only knock on the door and if no one answered there wasn't anything else they were going to do about it. And that they would not be phoning back. So the family waited by the phone, I'm sure getting only more and more worried as the time went by.

A second phone call was made. And again they heard nothing. The afternoon passed and it was now evening and still no news had been passed back to them. So a third call was placed pleading for information. The family begged them to break into the apartment, promising to pay for any damages that may be done, but that they knew something was wrong and they needed the police to get in there. This was their third phone call placed. They never did receive a phone message back. Instead, approximately three hours after their last phone conversation, the local squad car pulled into their driveway to deliver the news that there son was dead. The police in Arizona had found him laying in his bed. It appears he passed away in his sleep.

When I heard the news I thought of calling my friend right away, but decided I should go see her instead. So I started making plans that would allow me to go visit her in person. Then I made a call to my parents to let them know the news because my parents not only knew the family through me,but my friend's brother had been one of my father's favorite English students when he taught at the college here in Brainerd. I knew they would want to know and to be at the funeral.

Before I left the house I sent an email out to old elementary friends through a yahoo group. Most of us had reconnected this past summer on the day of our 20 year class reunion. After that, we formed the special yahoo group to keep in touch as people were now scattered across the United States. Although I knew most of them would probably not be at the funeral, I thought they might want to know. I'm sure some will send cards expressing their condolences.

In each of these instances different channels of communication were used. Some channels are more "communication rich" than others. The context of how well I knew the individual I was telling, how close they were to my friend, and how well they knew my friend's brother influenced my decision about how to pass on the news. This also reflects our cultural norms for what's considered the "appropriate" channel choice. This is important not only from a professional standpoint but most definitely from a personal one too.

But I digress...

I didn't exercise today, unless making homemade applesauce counts, which I think it should. What started out as a small project turned out to be a much longer ordeal than I had intended. I thought I would be done by early afternoon, afterall "Survivor" was on tonight. (OK so this blogging idea may have distracted me temporarily from a few reality shows as intended, but come on, "Survivor" is the big one! Well, that and "The Amazing Race" which I have to admit I've been watching as well. Ok Ok, so I caught the finale last night of "Project Runway" too. But I digress...)

Everything was on track for being done on time with my applesauce: I washed all the apples of their mosquito-killing pesticides that came on my TRF apples thanks to the TRF city workers, I laid out all the dishes I would need for working with as well as the storing of the completed product, I had my apples in two large kettles with the water starting to heat up and I had my mom's ricer which was specially delivered with loving care. What I didn't have and didn't discover until the apples were all ready on the stove was the pestol for the ricer. This was a pretty key tool to the whole process and not just any other kitchen gadget would work in its place. So it all came to a screeching halt. Literally. I mean, I was literally screeching.

So I turned off the stove, locked up the house and walked down to the local hardware store which has been known to carry old-world kitchen supplies (like lefse sticks and rolling pin covers). I had hoped that since they carried these traditional scandinavian utensils, and since my mother was 100% swedish, that the ricer must therefore be scandinavian, and therefore the hardware store would carry the pestol. My reasoning failed me. They did not have the pestol and furthermore had no idea what I was talking about. In fact, I have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm calling it a pestol, but I have no idea what it's really called. I was going to call it the wooden thingamajigee but I was worried about the spelling. How do you spell that anyway? Thingamejegie? Thingamajigy? But once again I digress...

So there I was with the apples partially warmed on the stove (yes I turned the stove off when I walked up to the store...or walked down to the store...I've never been really good with directional terms like that) my kitchen all set up and my schedule all set and it was all shot to...well fill in the blank because I have to be careful since I might have students read this. Anyhoo...

So I did what any good scandinavian would do in distress...I called my mother and did what any good Lutheran would do...made her feel guilty for not including the wooden doohickey (who makes up these terms anyway? Doohickey? It doesn't make any sense. I guess it's not supposed to [see now I just ended my sentence with a preposition, which you're not supposed to do. I have a friend...well really a friend of a friend...who jokingly would add a pronoun to the end of any sentence left with a dangling preposition or participle. And not just any pronoun. She'd add the prounoun sh*thead. Which just made it sound funny not mean. So it would go something like, "what do you think we should do then?" and she'd add sh*thead and we'd all laugh. But I digress...])

Anyway, my mother brings the stirstickey over to Diane who brings it back to Little Falls but it is now 6:00 pm and the apples have cooled, so I have to start all over. Well, I don't have to wash them all over again. I just have to boil them and boiling them takse time. But now my show is coming on, so I have to set up a sheet on my living room floor so I have a work area that I can use for mashing the apples through the ricer without making a mess (afterall the house is on the market so I have to try and keep it clean). Each commercial break I would take my ricer and the bowl of applesauce and go back to the kitchen, dump the applesauce into a bigger bowl (because the ricer only goes over a littlier bowl so I had to go back and forth several times) empty the unusable leftovers from inside the ricer into the garbage can, go back to the stove and scoop in some new apples into the ricer, wait for it to drain, put the ricer back over the small bowl and head back into the living room. Only to have to do the whole thing over again at the next commercial break.

So you see, making applesauce should count as exercise.

Enculturation--Cautious or Paranoid?

Today was a beautiful sunny fall day. I want to cherish each of these days that I have while on sabbatical. So after spending the morning on the computer I decided to go for a nice long walk at Charles Lindberg State Park. This was not the first time I had been to the park, but it was the first time I had been there by myself in years. In fact, I almost didn't go because I knew I would be alone. It saddens me that this is part of my reality.

Before I left the house I slipped my cell phone into my coat pocket. I thought about taking my mace but decided not to. But even as I was walking I caught myself turning my head and looking back over my shoulder to make sure no one was sneaking up on me. After about the 5th time of doing so, I started to question why I was so fearful that something was going to happen to me. There must have been something in my enculturation that made me this way.

Was it something my parents said to me about not going out alone? Was it the few scary movies I watched? If I was a male, would I have the same adrenaline reaction? But maybe it is because of the real news reports about real crimes happening in our state and around the country. These news reports seem to be all too frequent.

So whatever the factors were that contributed to my enculturation, I guess the question really then becomes does my enculturation lead to a sense of paranoia or am I just being realistically cautious?

W: 4 miles 1 hr 2 min

POSTE NOTE: OK I just posted this blog entry and the top news story tonight? Four adult men who beat and burned a mentally challenged male over the course of two days! They took him out to a remote wooded area both nights! Earlier this summer a woman with cancer was beaten nearly to death! It makes me sick and sad and angry. So I changed the picture to one of Justin which I took from KSTP online newssite. To you Justin, and to the woman with cancer who was too scared to give her name--I wish you peace and all the best this world has to offer you as you've certainly seen some of its worst.

Celebrate

Well I finally went for a run today. I had been over a week since my last run (see "Fall Dinners Lutheran Style in NW MN" blog for why I had to run that day). It seemed that once the third day passed, I just felt more and more guilty about it--to the point where I just plain didn't go. I thought about going earlier, but it was just to easy to skip it since it had already been so long. Then of course I would just feel more guilty about it.

But today was different. It may have taken me 6 hours to actually get my butt out the door, but I did it. However, even when I was running I still felt guilty for not running earlier. I kept thinking about whether or not my run was harder for waiting over a week. I thought about the fact that my route "up north" is shorter than my route down here and started feeling guilty about not mapping a longer route up there. But about a mile into my run I came upon this yard that had beautiful flowers still growing for this late in the fall and right in front of them was a sign that simply said "celebrate". One word but it made a difference in my run.

I decided to stop the guilt--afterall, I was out there. I was running. And I should celebrate the fact I was back doing so. It's kind of like what the researchers say happens to some people when they diet. Often times people will "fall off the wagon" and consume more calories than they intend. But psychologically many then use that as an excuse to repeat the same behavior. "Well I already blew my diet so I might as well have this piece of cake". When what the trainers are saying you should do is just jump right back into your intended plan.

My friend who taught and coached golf used to tell me "don't follow a bad shot with a stupid shot" because I had trouble taking each shot as the current shot. I was too tied up on the previous shot--"how'd I end up in the woods--that was a horrible shot!" Inevitably I'd still be tied to the emotions of the last shot and follow it up with another bad shot thereby making it the stupid shot since I didn't let go of the bad shot.

So today I ran and I celebrated the fact that I was running today. And you know what happened? Not only did I have a "good run" I shaved some time off. It was more productive than I'm sure it would have been if I would have stayed in my guilt-mode. So kudos to me today and the reality I found on my run!

R: 3.6 miles 31 min 30 sec

It's about time

I can't believe it's mid-October already. Time is flying by. It seems I turn on my computer in the morning and the next thing I know it's mid-afternoon. It seems like I just turn a new page on the calendar and in no time I'm having to do it again. Some people say "time flies when you're having fun" and others say "the older you get the faster time goes". Now I know that time really does not go any faster nor does it go any slower depending on your behavior or your age. But it sure can seem like it does.

Time is a funny concept. In Western culture time is viewed as a commodity--something that can be "wasted", "gained", or "spent". It is a linear system. We are dependent on schedules and appointments. Although we may value multi-tasking, we allot "chunks" of our time for accomplishing specific tasks. Other cultures view time more wholistically. While they may be attending to one task, time is always trumped by the social relationship at hand. In these cultures you may not even have a pre-determined event planned to the second. A visit is over when the visit is over, not when an appointment tells you it should be over.

From another perspective, cultures can have different orientations to time. They could be past oriented (value rituals and traditions) present orientated (carpe diem) or future oriented (working now for something bigger to come later such as that which is fundamental to most Christian belief systems).

Even within cultures we have time habbits. Some people arrive at any event early. Some people are routinely late. And then there are those that are right on time. We even polarize time--are you "an early bird" or "a night owl?" BTW: I'm not a morning person and if these posts showed the actual time (date is right, but somehow not my posting time) you'd see that most of these blog entries are coming real late at night. As I'm typing it is currently 11:57 pm.

Maybe this is part of the reason we react differently to having to "setting the time" and actually getting up. Some people set their clocks ahead, some folks have clocks that are left not running or with the wrong time. And then there are those that make sure all the clocks are set to the exact time. Same holds true for how one wakes up. Some people wake up naturally when their bodies tell them they should get up. Some people have to set an alarm. There are those who set their alarm to go off at the precise time they intend to get up. While others purposely will set their alarm ahead of when they really need to be awake (usually mathmatically figured to coincide with the length of snooze button function).

So since I'm on sabbatical and time seems to be slipping away I did not set my alarm. Instead I just woke up when my body decided it should wake. I went about my day not being tied to the time although I sometimes did peer at the clock. But most importantly I "took the time" to enjoy the nice fall day by walking 3.5 miles at Charles Lindberg State Park. I guess my culture would say, that was "time well spent".

They're all gourdgeous!

Diane's sister brought us some of her home-grown gourds Sunday. I guess I have never really paid attention to gourds before but my first thought was "they're goofy looking". Then I started noticing how each one was so unique and in it's own way "cool". I guess I could even call them kinda "gourdgeous". But seriously...Warning! Warning! Warning!...Deep moment approaching...I realized that we're all kind of like gourds. We come in different shapes and sizes. Our coloring isn't necessarily all the same. We have nicks and bruises caused by how we grew in our enviroment. Some have worts and some have creases. Some are smooth and some are rough. But all are unique. All deserve to be seen as valuable. And when you put this diverse group together it creates something even more attractive. Humm...we're even more like gourds than I first thought. I know, I know...I'm off my gourd!

The thing is...I like homemade pumpkin pie

The thing is...I crave different things at different times of the year. Since this is fall the thing I'm craving now is homemade pumpkin pie. It's not like it is very difficult to make. You can get what you need at almost any grocery store. It's basically mashed pumpkin pie from a can, some evaporated milk from a can, eggs from a carton and a few things from your cupboard that you probably have on hand.

Maybe it was the cool cloudy day or maybe it was the 3 hour drive along fall-colored highways or maybe it was the site of my friends Halloween decorated house, whatever sparked it the pie craving came and hit me hard. So Saturday I decided to do something about it. I decided to make that pie.

I had the house to myself as my friends had things already scheduled they had to do. So I went to the grocery store and picked up the things I needed. Twelve dollars and 4 hours later (the thing had to cool 2 before we could eat it) I had myself some homemade pumpkin pie. Sure I could have bought one for alot less, but the thing is...I like homemade pumpkin pie.



B: 0 miles R: 0 miles o min 0 sec exercising (Exercise? what's that? I'd rather eat pumpkin pie)
thing exercise

Pride at Parent's Night

I'm not a parent, but Diane is and on Friday night we went to watch her son, the senior play in his last home football game. The team has had its struggles all year and unfortunately wasn't able to get very many wins. OK going into Friday's game they were actually 0-5 (that's no wins for those of you who might not know). But Kyle was out on the field every play giving it his all and trying to keep his teammates up and ready for each play. He didn't give in even when the score was lopsided. Granted he was a team captain and that's part of their responsibilities, but I think his behavior would have been the same even if he wasn't. After last week's game where they lost once again, he came up to us directly from the post-game coach's talk and after he thanked us for coming to the game he turned to his mom and said "I'm sorry we can't win one for you." (About melted my heart--good kid!) Well, this last game was parent's night and guess what? They won one. Kyle had two touchdowns and a point after to go along with his numerous offensive yards and defensive tackles. Oh and did I mention he's also the punter? So OK, I'm not a parent, but he still makes me feel proud. And that's my reality for this Friday!

Pave Paradise to Put Up a Parking Lot

My reality started this morning at 7:15 am as the heavy equipment started their work on the land across the street from my house. Unfortunately this was not the first time I had been awakened by the thump of the dump trucks and the beep beep beep of the backhoe. I don't know if those are even the right terms for the machinery but I do know they are big, they are loud, and they start too darn early in the morning for a residential neighborhood.

I'm pretty sure we have a noise ordinance from 10 pm to 8 am but the city officials apparantly are exempt. This was the case through most of the summer. I'm obviously not a morning person by nature and so these noises would typically wake me up. Not being a morning person, I also tend to be a little grumpy in the morning--so their schedule and mine were not a good combination.

To top it all off, they're turning the green space across the street into a parking lot. Granted the building that used to be there before they bulldozed them down (that was a pleasant two weeks of 7:15 am noise!) were too delapidated. In fact local hulligans had thrown rocks threw most of the windows. That's not a pleasant site to look at and it certainly doesn't help the look of the neighborhood. However, watching the trees be plowed over and hauled out and watching the green grass get dug up and leveled out made me a bit sad. It made me think of that song Amy Grant used to sing (although I think it was a remake)that had the line "pave paradise to put up a parking lot." Granted, I don't live in paradise, but it still bums me out to lose the green space. And that's my reality for today.

Photo note: This picture was taken in the afternoon. I know that is not a dump truck nor a backhoe--but they were there earlier. This is the only photo I took.

History and Virtues

Understanding history serves many purposes. Some may study history in order to not repeat the past, like the "never again" campaign against genocide. Some may study history to better understand the present, like those who work in psychiatry. Some may study history to make progress for the future, like the inventor of penicillin did. And some study history for entertainment. Like my mother.

One of my mother's hobbies has been studying geneology and researching her family's history. She is really into it and gets very excited about finding a long lost relative's name. At some point in this quest to capture the entire family tree, my mother expanded her personal project to include creating a geneology book to share. She then decided that she needed to make books for over 50 people before she completed the first book. Her goal was to have these 50 books done before the family reunion last June. Well, she's still working on them.

This little project of hers has turned into a monster. Of course that's not the term she would probably use, she'd probably say it is a "labor of love", although I haven't heard her say that either. I call it a monster because it has taken over not only alot of time, alot of energy, and every available inch of their cabin, it has also turned into an enormous expense.

Unfortunately she attempting this "old school style" so that means cutting and pasting on paper and bringing it to "the xerox store" to get photocopies. Each page is printed on thick photo-sensitive paper and then put in a sheet protector. Because she wanted a comprehensive documentation she has more pages than she knows what to do with except to include them all. This has resulted in not just one 4-inch 3-ring binder, but a total of 3 books which are still overflowing.

I don't think she thought through the whole process before jumping into this project. Which is why everything is laid out all over the cabin floors, tables, shelves and chairs in different stages. Some pages are in protector sheets, some are just in boxes, some are combined with the page that goes on the back side (as there are 2 pages per protector sheet) and some sheets have 2 pages but they're not the correct two which means one page needs to be pulled out, possibly flipped over and it's corresponding page added.

Unfortunately it's too late to go back to the beginning and plan the whole thing out. Or to compile it electronically (don't get me started there). She has too much invested into photocopying and fancy paper to bring the one master book to the photocopier and make the set number of complete books. So instead we're piecing them together bit by bit. And I say we because this has resulted in an overwhelming amount of work for her to do on her own. So over the summer she's enlisted the help of her daughter-in-law, 3 of her grandkids, her sister-in-law, her son's mother-in-law, and me. This doesn't even count the numerous relatives who spent almost 3 days working on the books at the reunion. And they're still not close to being done (and she is planning on shipping out the miscellaneous missing pages from the books that did get brought out to the reunion once they figure out what all is missing and how many copies of each they might need because that's not even consistant).

So it was again my turn to go in and spend 8 hours trying to make a dent in all the work that still needs to be done. This is my fourth day at the cabin. It can be a hard day for me as I have a very different organizational style than my mother. But I usually have to bite the bullet because there's no turning back now and I want them to be done. So I spent the day cutting apart picture labels with an old paper cutter so they could be inserted ontop of the picture on each page of the book. There were about 10 picture labels on each piece of paper that needed to be cut apart. Not all the pictures have labels yet, but so far I counted 29 boxes of just picture label sheets. Oh, and did I say old paper cutter? Yeah, that cutter was probably 40 years old and maybe hadn't been sharpened ever, so I couldn't cut more than one or two sheets at a time. This is not my version of efficient.

I also spent time inserting pictures into 8 books because my mother prefers to work with a small number of books at a time and kinda piecemeal them together (which means when we're done they aren't really complete yet because she might have to make more photo copies of some pictures or has to type up a label here and there). Finally, I tried to help organize some of the loose pictures that end up in miscellaneaous piles around her work areas. Doing all this does not pair well with my impatient nature. So if patience is a vitue I am not virtueous at least not when it comes to this project in history. But like it or not, both my temperment and my mother's project are a part of my reality.


Photo note: Just a shot of the labels waiting to be cut apart. I like that they are lined up and all in one area.

Feedback

The house is for sale. It has been for a long time. In fact, we were told we were the "most showed" house in Little Falls last summer. We had alot of showings but nothing more ever came from any of them. The feedback came back positive "cute little place". Guess the key word was "little". The rest of the feedback was stuff we can't change. "Clients were looking for main floor laundry", "clients are really interested in having more than one bathroom", "clients didn't like having so many stairs". Sometimes feedback can be helpful. Sometimes feedback can be hard to hear, in our case, the feedback just confirmed what we already knew. It's an old house with one bathroom, a partial basement that houses the laundry room, and there's stairs you're going to have to climb.

Why am I talking about feedback today? Because I received a call asking if my house could be shown today. We haven't had a showing in over 2 months. The house looked lived in again so I had to spend 4 hours trying to get it picture perfect (I'm a bit of a perfectionist--but that'll have to be another blog). But since we've had it on the market so long and had so many showings I've got chicken-little syndrome. I rush and panic and exert all this time and energy and in the back of my mind I'm thinking, "Is this time for real?" I know it's just going to take the right buyer and the right buyer could be the one requesting the next showing, but it's tough keeping that positive attitude and trying to get it just right when it might not, and probably won't matter anyway. Afterall, from the feedback we've gotten, there's not much we can do to change what people don't like about the house.



Exercise: 4 1/2 hours of serious cleaning and the numerous trips up and down the stairs

An Avatar a day keeps boredom away

Now if only my avatar would exercise for me too!

B: 1.5 miles

Fall Dinners--Lutheran Style in NW MN

I used to live in Thief River Falls which is in the Northwest region of Minnesota. Fall in Northwest Minnesota meant alot of things: the start of the school year, football and volleyball season, change of leaves from green to gold, and weekend fall dinners. Now these dinners are no ordinary home-cooked meals--these dinners are events. For you see in Northwest Minnesota on any given weekend from September to mid-November, a person can find at least one Lutheran church within a 45 mile radius offering a feast for a small fee. However, there's a small catch, most of these dinners feature lutefisk.

Personally, I am not a big fan of lutefisk. Just for saying that I bet the sons of Norway lodge would probably take away my membership, if I had one. Even though I don't care for it, there are hourds of people who love it. Love it so much that they will travel around the region going from church to church to partake in their annual fall dinner. The churches have no problem packing the house. In fact, for most of the churches, this is an annual fundraiser that has become a line-item on their budgets. It is not uncommon for churches to bring in 500-600 lutefisk lovers. That's alot of people! (And alot of lutefisk)

Typically the lutefisk dinners would include "all the fixins" which in this case includes meatballs (a meal saver for those of use who aren't big fans of lutefisk) potaoes and gravy, coleslaw (or some other form of salad), corn, breads, coffee, milk and of course home-baked pies. I went just for the pies. OK and for the commaraderie of my friends. I also loved going because I felt it was a cultural study. We certainly didn't have anything like this where I grew up, but up here it was the norm. One guy even would make his own "lutefisk gravy" at home and bring it with him to the church dinners.

There were so many churches that were offering lutefisk dinners that some started to get creative in what they served. I heard, but never attended, a church up there that offered "lutefisk hotdish". My favorite by far was a little tiny church just outside of Thief River Falls called St Pauli. St Pauli served a turkey dinner instead of lutefisk, which is probably why it was my favorite. This little tiny church in the country only has about rows of pews and a steady attendance of about 25 people. Yet they'll serve over 500 people. It's quite the feat for a small church. Cars will be lined up down the county highway and it's not unusual a person can wait up to an hour or more before getting served. Afterall, there's only so much room in their church basement. But they've got it all down to a system after all these years. And I was able to once again partake in their fall dinner this weekend.

We got there at 3:15, paid for our tickets and got our name added to the list. They started serving at 4:00 and we got in the first round--table number 2. They must have had about 10 tables that sat 9 each. Each table had a server that would bring your food family style (everything in bowls and you helped yourself to as much as you wanted). The servers all had matching checkered aprons that I imagine were made by the Ladies Aid group. They had people in charge of just pie and people in charge of just milk and coffee. It was a well organized evening and the food was fantastic. I guess I picked the right fall weekend to be up north!


Photo taken from http://historicstpauli.org/historicphotos/



R: 2.88 miles 23 min 50 sec

Da Catlics an Da Luterans

Ok den. I've bin up in Nort west minnesoooota for over a week den and I've noticed I've picked up on da scandihuvian accent again, den. It took me a few years to lose it after movin sout, but sure enough den, a few days and der it was again.

I used to be one of those folks that hated the movie Fargo. I'm still not a fan, but I can admit now, that there's some truth in the movie's portrayal. Some stereotypes do have a base of reality. And the scandinavian dialect used in the movie is alive and well in many parts of Northwest Minnesota. That's just part of the cultural norm up here. Another reality is the culture clash between the Lutherans and the Catholics. Nevermind that they are both Christian denominations, to talk to some folks up here, you'd think we were talking about the differences between Islam and Christianity. It's almost like a rivalry, except for some, its much more serious than chiding one another for sport.

Yesterday, on the way back from Fargo we went through a very small town--maybe a total of five blocks long. This town appeared to be the epitomy of the Minnesota Catholic Lutheran clash. Take a close look at the two pictures of the two churches in town. One was on the north end of town and four blocks away was the other on the south end of town. They're the only two churches I noticed in this town of 122 people. Never mind philosophical differences, it looks like these churches had to even compete over what to name their churches. BTW: the name of this city is not Holy Trinity.

B: 7.38 miles

Disclosure

Self-disclosure is a funny thing. Some people disclose personal information to only the closest of friends. Others disclose almost anything to almost anyone. Most of us probably fall somewhere in between. Today I went with my friend Deb to Moorhead State where I did some more filming since it was her alma mater. We also did some filming in the city of Hendrum, where Deb grew up and where her mom still lives. I even got some questions answered by her mom on film...which brings me back to today's topic.

Deb and her sister Barb (see photo in "bided" blog entry) have been trying to get their mom to answer some questions that some would say fall on the personal side but being the strong stoic Scandinavian that she is, she would typically change the subject or pretend she didn't hear the question. Yet today when I was there with the camera and happened to ask her a couple of questions she hardly hesitated in asnwering. In fact, after we got done with the couple of questions I had for her about Deb we actually just kept the camera going and I started in on a few of the questions that were all about her own life experiences. I was amazed at what she shared and how easily she seemed to do so, especially considering I had the camera going.

Now I'm not a stranger to Margaret, but why is it that she'd open up more for me and the camera than she would her two daughters. Maybe the small size of the camera was less intimidating. Maybe it was the questions. Maybe it was just the right day. But whatever the reason, that was the reality of today. I'm glad she opened up and shared some of the interesting stories that can now be shared with others too.


Photo note: Still picture captured from vide through Window's movie maker
W: 2 miles

Funeral for whom

Today I went to a funeral for a gentlemen I used to work with when I was in student services at Northland Community College. I also knew him because we attended the same church. When I started my theatre company they were some of the first couples to buy tickets. I don't think they missed one of our musical dinner theatres. I remember him as a guy who liked to tell stories, someone who always had a joke or two "at the ready" and who loved his job as a teacher. He loved working at Northland and devoted years and years to his church, campus and community. I was sad to hear he had passed away but felt fortunate that I was actually in town to attend his funeral.

As I sat in the pew listening to the sermon given by a new pastor (well in correlation to my time spent at that church and granted I have been out of town for quite a few years now) I couldn't help but wonder who a funeral service is really for. Is it for the decesased or is it more for the living? Should the service reflect the life and personality of the one for whom people are all gathered?

I know I tend to be hyper critical sometimes and I really tried not to be in this situation, but when I got into the car afterwards and my friend said, "I don't think he really would have liked that service". I couldn't help but agree and share my thoughts since they had been so similiar. I guess part of the confusion is due to the reality that we as a culture don't talk about death very much. How many people have had serious discussions about their desires? Probably not so many. In fact, I know of several instances where I heard people didn't even know where important documents were stored.

In class I spend a day talking about grief and communication. In times of bereavement those nonverbals are just as important as what we say and it's very easy to be at a loss for words. It's a good start what I do but maybe I need to do more. And truth be told, I guess I also need to practice what I preach when it comes to talking to our loved ones about death and post death details. Hopefully communication ahead of time would prevent people from making the same type of comments that we made today.

So to honor DS I'd like to share this Ole and Sven Joke:

Ole replaced de light in his blinker an so he sent his friend Sven out to da back of da car. Ole said to Sven, "I'm gonna turn on da blinker an I want ya to tell me if it's workin". "Ya, I can do dat" replied Sven". "All right den, here we go..." and he turned on his blinker "..is it workin?" he hollered. To which Sven replied, "yes...no...yes...no...yes...no..."


W: 1.45 B: 5.5 miles