does it take to print a label?
Believe me when I tell you, you do not want to know.
Religion geeks we are.
Computer geeks we are not.
So very, very not.
:)
Friday, September 30, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
The Best Musician You've Probably Never Heard Of
is Peter Mulvey.
I discovered him by accident when I was living in Pennsylvania. I was at a Borders and trying to use one of those music preview machines - I thought it was the kind where you scanned the barcode of a CD you were interested in and it would play what was on it. Turned out to be the kind where there are 5 or 6 featured CDs loaded into the machine and you pick from those what you want to listen to.
So I scanned the CD I was holding and the computer defaulted to the first CD in its memory, Peter's The Knuckleball Suite. And I was like, "This isn't what I scanned but this is really good!" So I bought it instead of what was in my hand.
I told Peter that story tonight at the merch table after his gig at Gingko Coffeehouse, and he gave me a high five. :)
In all seriousness, though - I have yet to hear this man sing a song (original or cover) that I didn't like. His lyrics are smart and funny and profound, and he is one of the most skilled and most versatile guitar players I've ever heard or seen. And his stage banter is hilarious.
Plus, the dude's on a bicycle tour. He rode 70 miles today, then performed an amazing show tonight. Most impressive.
He's touring with Brianna Lane, another excellent musician, and she's local! If you're in the Twin Cities, you've got one day left to see them, at Calhoun Cycle tomorrow afternoon, or The Aster Cafe in Northeast tomorrow night.
Here's a couple youtube vids to demonstrate your need to go!
Shirt
Simon Stimson
I discovered him by accident when I was living in Pennsylvania. I was at a Borders and trying to use one of those music preview machines - I thought it was the kind where you scanned the barcode of a CD you were interested in and it would play what was on it. Turned out to be the kind where there are 5 or 6 featured CDs loaded into the machine and you pick from those what you want to listen to.
So I scanned the CD I was holding and the computer defaulted to the first CD in its memory, Peter's The Knuckleball Suite. And I was like, "This isn't what I scanned but this is really good!" So I bought it instead of what was in my hand.
I told Peter that story tonight at the merch table after his gig at Gingko Coffeehouse, and he gave me a high five. :)
In all seriousness, though - I have yet to hear this man sing a song (original or cover) that I didn't like. His lyrics are smart and funny and profound, and he is one of the most skilled and most versatile guitar players I've ever heard or seen. And his stage banter is hilarious.
Plus, the dude's on a bicycle tour. He rode 70 miles today, then performed an amazing show tonight. Most impressive.
He's touring with Brianna Lane, another excellent musician, and she's local! If you're in the Twin Cities, you've got one day left to see them, at Calhoun Cycle tomorrow afternoon, or The Aster Cafe in Northeast tomorrow night.
Here's a couple youtube vids to demonstrate your need to go!
Shirt
Simon Stimson
Sunday, September 11, 2011
10 Years Ago, Part Two
. . .looking back, the me that woke up the morning of September 11 seems so charmingly naieve - I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined the horrendous crash and burn that was about to happen, not only in New York, but in my own life.
I was up early. I had an 8 am class, which I typically tried to avoid, but it couldn't be helped that semester.
Pauline Epistles with Dr. Craig Koester.
That's where I was when it happened.
Blissfully oblivious.
I don't remember which epistle Koester was lecturing on that day.
I do remember the second class was over, Dr. Diane Jacobson calmly walked in to the room and somberly told us "There has been a terrorist attack on the United States, airplanes have been hijacked and flown into the World Trade Towers and the Pentagon. It is not certain whether there are other planes or what their targets may be. We are gathering in the chapel."
WHAT?
I went to chapel. I don't remember exactly what we said and did. . .a lot of praying, and speaking and singing lament psalms, I think.
My memories of the day are like that - certain things are crystal clear, while others are vague and hazy.
I do remember - clearly - it felt like time slowed down and the day would never end.
I was supposed to go to God, Evil, and Suffering next.
Ha.
But my neighbor Dana was expecting her cousin Sebastian to land later that day, coming to visit from Germany. But everything had been shut down, and who's to say where he was? And Dana didn't speak German. I went and explained the situation to Drs. Sponheim and Fretheim, and they said, by all means, go help your friend find her cousin.
His plane was halfway over the Atlantic Ocean when the pilot abruptly announced the United States had closed its borders and its airspace, they were turning around for Europe immediately.
I can't imagine what it must have been like for him to hear that, sitting on that plane, halfway through a long journey he'd been planning and looking forward to for months. I would have asked myself, "What do you mean, they closed the borders? WTH is happening on the ground?"
But at least he was safe, and made it back to his family alright.
From there I must have eaten something for lunch, though I doubt I had an appetite. And I must have finished out the very full day of class, with Lutheran Confessions, and Preaching. . .but honestly those parts of the day are also fuzzy.
I was working for Pilgrim Lutheran at the time, and they pulled together a prayer vigil that evening. I do remember going to that.
And I distinctly remember yelling at God the entire drive to the church: "Where were you? Where ARE you? Do you not care that we are perishing? Do you not understand what this means. . .with THIS President in particular at the helm?. . ."
I distinctly remember praying for our enemies at the service, because I could not fathom what kind of hell a person must live in, day in and day out, that would lead them to see such a suicide mission as their best and only way forward.
I distinctly remember all the hope and joy of the summer being sucked completely out of me in a matter of moments, as if a Dementor had followed Dr. Jacobson into the room, then grabbed hold and followed me out of it.
For me, September 11 was the beginning of a year of absolute hell, and an epically dark night of the soul. That journey was long, and is a story for another day.
Today in her sermon, Jen asked us, 10 years later, where do we find hope?
Which was a hard question because over the past few months, the devolving state of various situations in the world, which we never seem to gain traction on, have left me feeling increasingly hopeless and fearing we are, collectively, hell-bent on getting to a Fahrenheit 451/Clockwork Orange kind of world as fast as we possibly can.
Perhaps my old Dementor has been lingering a little too close lately, but I really had to think about this question.
I decided - I find hope in the people who choose life, who live life abundantly, who relentlessly rebuild this world even as others actively tear it down.
And I find hope in the God who continues to create beauty and truth and goodness, even out of the chaos and the rubble.
I give thanks to God for both Jen and Jeni, two of the saints in my life who give me hope, and for the brilliant sermons they each preached this morning.
And I leave you with this prayer, which we sang in worship today (though I thank another hopeful saint, Choral Girl, for this particular link):
I was up early. I had an 8 am class, which I typically tried to avoid, but it couldn't be helped that semester.
Pauline Epistles with Dr. Craig Koester.
That's where I was when it happened.
Blissfully oblivious.
I don't remember which epistle Koester was lecturing on that day.
I do remember the second class was over, Dr. Diane Jacobson calmly walked in to the room and somberly told us "There has been a terrorist attack on the United States, airplanes have been hijacked and flown into the World Trade Towers and the Pentagon. It is not certain whether there are other planes or what their targets may be. We are gathering in the chapel."
WHAT?
I went to chapel. I don't remember exactly what we said and did. . .a lot of praying, and speaking and singing lament psalms, I think.
My memories of the day are like that - certain things are crystal clear, while others are vague and hazy.
I do remember - clearly - it felt like time slowed down and the day would never end.
I was supposed to go to God, Evil, and Suffering next.
Ha.
But my neighbor Dana was expecting her cousin Sebastian to land later that day, coming to visit from Germany. But everything had been shut down, and who's to say where he was? And Dana didn't speak German. I went and explained the situation to Drs. Sponheim and Fretheim, and they said, by all means, go help your friend find her cousin.
His plane was halfway over the Atlantic Ocean when the pilot abruptly announced the United States had closed its borders and its airspace, they were turning around for Europe immediately.
I can't imagine what it must have been like for him to hear that, sitting on that plane, halfway through a long journey he'd been planning and looking forward to for months. I would have asked myself, "What do you mean, they closed the borders? WTH is happening on the ground?"
But at least he was safe, and made it back to his family alright.
From there I must have eaten something for lunch, though I doubt I had an appetite. And I must have finished out the very full day of class, with Lutheran Confessions, and Preaching. . .but honestly those parts of the day are also fuzzy.
I was working for Pilgrim Lutheran at the time, and they pulled together a prayer vigil that evening. I do remember going to that.
And I distinctly remember yelling at God the entire drive to the church: "Where were you? Where ARE you? Do you not care that we are perishing? Do you not understand what this means. . .with THIS President in particular at the helm?. . ."
I distinctly remember praying for our enemies at the service, because I could not fathom what kind of hell a person must live in, day in and day out, that would lead them to see such a suicide mission as their best and only way forward.
I distinctly remember all the hope and joy of the summer being sucked completely out of me in a matter of moments, as if a Dementor had followed Dr. Jacobson into the room, then grabbed hold and followed me out of it.
For me, September 11 was the beginning of a year of absolute hell, and an epically dark night of the soul. That journey was long, and is a story for another day.
Today in her sermon, Jen asked us, 10 years later, where do we find hope?
Which was a hard question because over the past few months, the devolving state of various situations in the world, which we never seem to gain traction on, have left me feeling increasingly hopeless and fearing we are, collectively, hell-bent on getting to a Fahrenheit 451/Clockwork Orange kind of world as fast as we possibly can.
Perhaps my old Dementor has been lingering a little too close lately, but I really had to think about this question.
I decided - I find hope in the people who choose life, who live life abundantly, who relentlessly rebuild this world even as others actively tear it down.
And I find hope in the God who continues to create beauty and truth and goodness, even out of the chaos and the rubble.
I give thanks to God for both Jen and Jeni, two of the saints in my life who give me hope, and for the brilliant sermons they each preached this morning.
And I leave you with this prayer, which we sang in worship today (though I thank another hopeful saint, Choral Girl, for this particular link):
Saturday, September 10, 2011
10 Years Ago, Part One
10 years ago I spent the summer in Dresden. The Fund for Theological Education was kind enough to give me a large scholarship with very few strings attached. "Do something that will enhance your ministry and then tell us about it" they said.
So I went abroad, took classes at the Goethe Institut during the week, and bummed around Lutherland on the weekends. Though I had been abroad before, it was my first time truly living abroad for an extended period of time.
It was an awesome experience. I liked Germany before, but that summer I fell in love with it. I loved how easy it was to go pretty much anywhere on public transit; I loved how ecologically conscious they were; I loved how walking, cycling, or taking the tram was the default mode of operation; I loved broetchen for breakfast everyday; I loved the little hole-in-the-wall doner stand down the street from the school; I loved the tasty senf at the beer garden where we'd have our weekly Stammtisch; I loved the gelato cafe on the Neustadt side of the Augustbruecke; I loved the Semper Oper and the Zwinger gallery; I loved the noise car tires made as they rolled over cobblestone streets; I loved that church bells rang to announce the noon hour; and though it took a period of adjustment I came to love that you were expected to bring your own bags to the grocery store, and that most stores would be closed by 6 pm every night and always on Sundays; I loved that people would spend Sunday afternoons with friends and family, relaxing at home or out hiking or touring or something.
I loved my class at the Goethe Institut too - our teacher, Ute, was fantastic, and I loved the diversity in the room, with students from France, Romania, Libya, China, Mexico, Canada, and the U.S. - I feel like there were even more countries represented (and certainly among the whole institut there were more) but these are the only ones I can remember right now. In any case, it felt like we were this mini-UN, working together to learn and understand this language and culture that was not our own, sharing things about our own cultures in the process.
When class ended I joined up with some German and Slovak friends (including Adri) to go hiking in the High Tatras mountains, an incredible way to cap an incredible summer.
It was a summer that filled me with such hope for the world - that if our little microcosms of national diversity could learn from and learn with each other, and work together so effectively to reach common goals, then certainly we as a richly diverse global body of humanity could get there too.
I had a hard time with cultural readjustment upon my return. I was cranky and frustrated with Minnesota for all the ways it failed to be Germany. I was (as I always am) sad for saying goodbye to Adri and not knowing the next time we'd get to see each other. And I was wrestling with some deep vocational issues - I had been a reluctant seminarian to begin with, and certain things about the summer had me seriously questioning whether I should really be a pastor.
I went to bed the night of September 10 thinking these were the greatest of my problems. Despite my frustrations, I was still so enthralled by the winds of that summer - the view they had allowed me, the incredible ride they had provided me - that I was completely oblivious to how close they had carried me to the sun. . .
So I went abroad, took classes at the Goethe Institut during the week, and bummed around Lutherland on the weekends. Though I had been abroad before, it was my first time truly living abroad for an extended period of time.
It was an awesome experience. I liked Germany before, but that summer I fell in love with it. I loved how easy it was to go pretty much anywhere on public transit; I loved how ecologically conscious they were; I loved how walking, cycling, or taking the tram was the default mode of operation; I loved broetchen for breakfast everyday; I loved the little hole-in-the-wall doner stand down the street from the school; I loved the tasty senf at the beer garden where we'd have our weekly Stammtisch; I loved the gelato cafe on the Neustadt side of the Augustbruecke; I loved the Semper Oper and the Zwinger gallery; I loved the noise car tires made as they rolled over cobblestone streets; I loved that church bells rang to announce the noon hour; and though it took a period of adjustment I came to love that you were expected to bring your own bags to the grocery store, and that most stores would be closed by 6 pm every night and always on Sundays; I loved that people would spend Sunday afternoons with friends and family, relaxing at home or out hiking or touring or something.
I loved my class at the Goethe Institut too - our teacher, Ute, was fantastic, and I loved the diversity in the room, with students from France, Romania, Libya, China, Mexico, Canada, and the U.S. - I feel like there were even more countries represented (and certainly among the whole institut there were more) but these are the only ones I can remember right now. In any case, it felt like we were this mini-UN, working together to learn and understand this language and culture that was not our own, sharing things about our own cultures in the process.
When class ended I joined up with some German and Slovak friends (including Adri) to go hiking in the High Tatras mountains, an incredible way to cap an incredible summer.
It was a summer that filled me with such hope for the world - that if our little microcosms of national diversity could learn from and learn with each other, and work together so effectively to reach common goals, then certainly we as a richly diverse global body of humanity could get there too.
I had a hard time with cultural readjustment upon my return. I was cranky and frustrated with Minnesota for all the ways it failed to be Germany. I was (as I always am) sad for saying goodbye to Adri and not knowing the next time we'd get to see each other. And I was wrestling with some deep vocational issues - I had been a reluctant seminarian to begin with, and certain things about the summer had me seriously questioning whether I should really be a pastor.
I went to bed the night of September 10 thinking these were the greatest of my problems. Despite my frustrations, I was still so enthralled by the winds of that summer - the view they had allowed me, the incredible ride they had provided me - that I was completely oblivious to how close they had carried me to the sun. . .
Fruitful Prejudices
Let's face it, I'm a good card-carrying progressive, when it comes to most "ists" in my life, I'm trying to actively deconstruct them. I strive to become ever more mindful of the ways that I am racist and classist and elitist, etc, etc, etc, so that I can work on NOT being those things so much as I currently am, so that we can all live in a little bit better world.
However, there are two "ists" in my life of which I am fully aware, completely unashamed, and have no intention of changing, ever.
I am unabashedly statist and unabashedly collegist.
There are a lot of lovely places, filled with a lot of lovely people, all throughout the rest of the world - I have thoroughly enjoyed both visiting and even living in these spectacular places.
But there is no state greater than Minnesota.
Similarly, there are a lot of fine institutions of higher learning in the world - I have a lot of friends who are exemplary graduates of these upstanding schools.
But there is no college greater than St. Olaf.
I mean, where else on this planet would they creatively set the academic expectations to The Sound of Music and enlist professors from multiple disciplines to sing it to you?
Fram, fram, baby.
However, there are two "ists" in my life of which I am fully aware, completely unashamed, and have no intention of changing, ever.
I am unabashedly statist and unabashedly collegist.
There are a lot of lovely places, filled with a lot of lovely people, all throughout the rest of the world - I have thoroughly enjoyed both visiting and even living in these spectacular places.
But there is no state greater than Minnesota.
Similarly, there are a lot of fine institutions of higher learning in the world - I have a lot of friends who are exemplary graduates of these upstanding schools.
But there is no college greater than St. Olaf.
I mean, where else on this planet would they creatively set the academic expectations to The Sound of Music and enlist professors from multiple disciplines to sing it to you?
Fram, fram, baby.
Friday, September 9, 2011
PA Pictures and Songs
Van Wagner is my favorite Central Susquehanna Valley musician. He's one of the best guitar players I've ever heard, he's a mensch who has both mined coal and logged timber and is now a public educator, and he's steeped in the folk and singer-songwriter traditions, with a beautiful way of telling a story in a song.
He's written a lot of great songs, but I think my favorite is probably "If Time Could Stand Alone" (on the album with the same title), because of the way he sings about living your whole life as a prayer (you can buy it on iTunes).
He's been awfully busy lately, sandbagging, and taking pictures, and writing and recording songs about the flood:
. . .Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayers.
He's written a lot of great songs, but I think my favorite is probably "If Time Could Stand Alone" (on the album with the same title), because of the way he sings about living your whole life as a prayer (you can buy it on iTunes).
He's been awfully busy lately, sandbagging, and taking pictures, and writing and recording songs about the flood:
. . .Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayers.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Prayers for Central PA
Hurricane Agnes devastated the Central Susquehanna Valley in 1972, for the people who lived through it, "The Flood" is seared in their memory, as vivid as though it happened yesterday.
Tropical Storm Lee is currently stalled out over the Mid-Atlantic, and the comparisons to Agnes keep building.
Flood sirens have gone off in Lewisburg - in the five years I lived there I never once heard a flood siren, though we had several bouts of flooding and closed streets, especially down by the river. Bucknell, which is a residential campus, not only cancelled class but pretty much shut down and is apparently evacuating 800-some students out of the dorms. Hwy 15 was closed for a while due to flooding, I'm hoping from the creek I used to live by, because if the river has gotten that wide they are in trouble.
Be safe out there, my central Pennsylvania and western New York friends. Know that you are in a lot of thoughts and hearts and prayers!
Tropical Storm Lee is currently stalled out over the Mid-Atlantic, and the comparisons to Agnes keep building.
Flood sirens have gone off in Lewisburg - in the five years I lived there I never once heard a flood siren, though we had several bouts of flooding and closed streets, especially down by the river. Bucknell, which is a residential campus, not only cancelled class but pretty much shut down and is apparently evacuating 800-some students out of the dorms. Hwy 15 was closed for a while due to flooding, I'm hoping from the creek I used to live by, because if the river has gotten that wide they are in trouble.
Be safe out there, my central Pennsylvania and western New York friends. Know that you are in a lot of thoughts and hearts and prayers!
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
She's Ready For Her Closeup Mr. DeMille
The bambino LOVES getting her photo taken. It is virtually impossible to get a candid image of her because she hears the camera turn on or focus, and she turns her head and smiles. She's done that to me even when we were in a coffee shop and she was busy concentrating on walking up a few stairs and I was on the other side of the room, still she heard my camera and looked up and smiled.
Of course, between Grammie and Grampie, Nana and Pa, Aunties Trina and EJ, and Auntie C, she kind of has her own personal cadre of paparazzi, we may have inadvertently encouraged the development of this camera-loving behavior. :)
And ironically, the one time she really did not want her picture taken was when they took a family portrait for the church directory. Breen and Patrick look absolutely lovely but the bambino is a complete grumpy gus in that photo, nothing they tried could get her to smile for it.
In any case, Patrick did a big and epic wedding this past weekend (groom is a fire chief, the extensive wedding party rode to the reception in a caravan of firetrucks), and as it was a family their whole family knew well, Breen and bambino went to the wedding and festivities too.
Apparently, the bambino became quite upset that she was not included in the official wedding photos - after all, everybody she knows loves taking her picture, and she loves having her picture taken, so clearly she should be in all these photos, and these silly people weren't letting her be in any of them! She got so upset, Breen finally had to take her out of the church and drive her around in the car until she fell asleep!
I'm cracking up imagining her inner monologue at that point: "Must stay awake. . .must be in pictures. . .but getting so. . .sleepy. . .car. . .you are. . .evil. . . .can't. . .fight. . . .the nap. . . . .any--zzzzzz"
Not to worry, bambino. This member of your entourage will see you soon enough, and I will more than make up for the lack of picture taking this past weekend. I'm sure I'll even let you run around with my camera again, because we both know you've had me wrapped around your little pinky since the day you were born. :)
Of course, between Grammie and Grampie, Nana and Pa, Aunties Trina and EJ, and Auntie C, she kind of has her own personal cadre of paparazzi, we may have inadvertently encouraged the development of this camera-loving behavior. :)
And ironically, the one time she really did not want her picture taken was when they took a family portrait for the church directory. Breen and Patrick look absolutely lovely but the bambino is a complete grumpy gus in that photo, nothing they tried could get her to smile for it.
In any case, Patrick did a big and epic wedding this past weekend (groom is a fire chief, the extensive wedding party rode to the reception in a caravan of firetrucks), and as it was a family their whole family knew well, Breen and bambino went to the wedding and festivities too.
Apparently, the bambino became quite upset that she was not included in the official wedding photos - after all, everybody she knows loves taking her picture, and she loves having her picture taken, so clearly she should be in all these photos, and these silly people weren't letting her be in any of them! She got so upset, Breen finally had to take her out of the church and drive her around in the car until she fell asleep!
I'm cracking up imagining her inner monologue at that point: "Must stay awake. . .must be in pictures. . .but getting so. . .sleepy. . .car. . .you are. . .evil. . . .can't. . .fight. . . .the nap. . . . .any--zzzzzz"
Not to worry, bambino. This member of your entourage will see you soon enough, and I will more than make up for the lack of picture taking this past weekend. I'm sure I'll even let you run around with my camera again, because we both know you've had me wrapped around your little pinky since the day you were born. :)
Monday, September 5, 2011
Note To Self
Dear Catrina,
We know it's the end of the summer.
We know you like to delude yourself into thinking we're more used to the sun by now and don't need so much protection.
This is most erroneous logic.
We also know you're part Italian.
But we didn't get those particular genes.
So please repeat after us: SPF 50 or higher, on every part of us that's exposed, every time you're going to be outside for more than 15 minutes, especially in the middle of the day.
Capisce?
Now, go find the aloe.
Love,
Your Skin
We know it's the end of the summer.
We know you like to delude yourself into thinking we're more used to the sun by now and don't need so much protection.
This is most erroneous logic.
We also know you're part Italian.
But we didn't get those particular genes.
So please repeat after us: SPF 50 or higher, on every part of us that's exposed, every time you're going to be outside for more than 15 minutes, especially in the middle of the day.
Capisce?
Now, go find the aloe.
Love,
Your Skin
On a Stiiick, Day Four
I was 90% sure I was going to use that extra ticket today, and then last night I found out Jeni and Colin were in town and were going to the Fair today, so that sealed the deal.
We began with a malt
and the Princess Kay butter sculptures in the Dairy Building (surprisingly - something I hadn't done in my previous three trips).
From there we were all over the place, but it was fun to introduce them to parts of the Fair they had never explored, like the Wildlife Walk in the DNR building
and the newspaper museum in Heritage Square (no pics of that, sorry).
We took the Sky Ride, and Colin told us a story about when he was 7 and had gone to the Fair with his mom and his two younger brothers. They got on the Sky Ride but it got stuck and they ended up suspended in the air in this small little gondola for 3 hours!!! He was like, "I think they must have added these mesh screens later, because I distinctly remember dropping pennies and suckers and stuff out the window."
We also discovered while waiting in line for the Sky Ride that Colin grew up down the street from my great-grandma, once again proving it's a small, small Lutheran world. That kind of stuff just fascinates me - how many times might he and I have crossed paths as kids - and then as young adults we even went to the same college and seminary, but he was just enough younger than me that we had no overlap either place - so we didn't really know each other or become friends until we were somewhat older young adults. Crazy.
But I digress. . .it was an awesome last day at my happy place, made even happier by the chance to catch up with these good friends. I think we're all thinking a Ciccone-Grangaard Fair Day needs to become a tradition. :)
This closing picture is for Eileen, who - tragically - did not make it to MN for the Fair this year. She put in a request that someone eat some mini-donuts for her. We were more than happy to oblige.
So long, my happy place, and thanks for another great year! I'll see you again next August!
We began with a malt
and the Princess Kay butter sculptures in the Dairy Building (surprisingly - something I hadn't done in my previous three trips).
From there we were all over the place, but it was fun to introduce them to parts of the Fair they had never explored, like the Wildlife Walk in the DNR building
and the newspaper museum in Heritage Square (no pics of that, sorry).
We took the Sky Ride, and Colin told us a story about when he was 7 and had gone to the Fair with his mom and his two younger brothers. They got on the Sky Ride but it got stuck and they ended up suspended in the air in this small little gondola for 3 hours!!! He was like, "I think they must have added these mesh screens later, because I distinctly remember dropping pennies and suckers and stuff out the window."
We also discovered while waiting in line for the Sky Ride that Colin grew up down the street from my great-grandma, once again proving it's a small, small Lutheran world. That kind of stuff just fascinates me - how many times might he and I have crossed paths as kids - and then as young adults we even went to the same college and seminary, but he was just enough younger than me that we had no overlap either place - so we didn't really know each other or become friends until we were somewhat older young adults. Crazy.
But I digress. . .it was an awesome last day at my happy place, made even happier by the chance to catch up with these good friends. I think we're all thinking a Ciccone-Grangaard Fair Day needs to become a tradition. :)
This closing picture is for Eileen, who - tragically - did not make it to MN for the Fair this year. She put in a request that someone eat some mini-donuts for her. We were more than happy to oblige.
So long, my happy place, and thanks for another great year! I'll see you again next August!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
We Carry Each Other
At 100 years young, Katherine is the oldest member of our congregation. Despite dealing with some health issues of her own the past week, she managed to knit a newborn cap for our newest and youngest member, the wee 11 day old Naomi, who is feistily hanging on in the NICU, having arrived 11 weeks early.
This morning's offering included the little knit cap, sealed in a baggie so it didn't pick up a bunch of contagion that could compromise little Naomi's still developing immune system. When it was time for the offering prayer, Jen came and stood in the midst of us and we all placed a hand on either the cap or our neighbor's shoulder, and we blessed the cap, giving thanks for both Katherine and Naomi, and praying for health and wholeness for the both of them. . .it was a powerful moment.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love my church?
This morning's offering included the little knit cap, sealed in a baggie so it didn't pick up a bunch of contagion that could compromise little Naomi's still developing immune system. When it was time for the offering prayer, Jen came and stood in the midst of us and we all placed a hand on either the cap or our neighbor's shoulder, and we blessed the cap, giving thanks for both Katherine and Naomi, and praying for health and wholeness for the both of them. . .it was a powerful moment.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love my church?
Saturday, September 3, 2011
On a Stiiick, Day Three
Today was my third day at the Happiest Place on Earth - this time again with Maminka, family friend Sharon, my Aunt Terri, my cousin Liz, her boyfriend Trav, and their little guy Jayden.
We did crepes for breakfast this morning - I opted for banana and nutella. . .hmmm, nutella.
As soon as we finished Jayden wanted to go on the Giant Slide - good man! I've been waiting all week for someone to go on that with me.
We finally got to the lower end of grounds - the DNR building (this was also a hoot with Jayden, especially seeing how many animals we could spot and identify in the wildlife wing), the Miracle of Birth center and the regular barns, and Heritage Square.
Speaking of barns, I am always way more amused by this than I should be, but why are the two options for keeping sheep's wool clean between making them members of the klan
or enrolling them in a jazzercise class?
We went back over a lot of other territory we covered on Tuesday as well, but I never catch everything in those buildings the first time through, so that was good. Indiana Jayden bought a cool lasso to go with his fedora (the hat was at home)
We tried two new (to us) Fair foods today: deep fried pickles [NOT my idea; conclusion: meh, no desire to ever eat it again], and the deep fried apple pie with cinnamon ice cream [looks and tastes better than it sounds - basically like an apple pie turnover, this one WAS my idea; conclusion: muy yum (you know it's got to be good if it's palindromically yummy!), now on the list of things that must be had at the fair every year]. Plus, their booth has awesome signage:
Alas, all too soon it was once again time to leave. I do have a spare ticket in my hot little hands, but I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to use it before it all disappears for another year.
Incidentally, this pouty face is remarkably similar to the one the bambino gives me on the very rare occasions that I don't let her play with my camera:
We did crepes for breakfast this morning - I opted for banana and nutella. . .hmmm, nutella.
As soon as we finished Jayden wanted to go on the Giant Slide - good man! I've been waiting all week for someone to go on that with me.
We finally got to the lower end of grounds - the DNR building (this was also a hoot with Jayden, especially seeing how many animals we could spot and identify in the wildlife wing), the Miracle of Birth center and the regular barns, and Heritage Square.
Speaking of barns, I am always way more amused by this than I should be, but why are the two options for keeping sheep's wool clean between making them members of the klan
or enrolling them in a jazzercise class?
We went back over a lot of other territory we covered on Tuesday as well, but I never catch everything in those buildings the first time through, so that was good. Indiana Jayden bought a cool lasso to go with his fedora (the hat was at home)
We tried two new (to us) Fair foods today: deep fried pickles [NOT my idea; conclusion: meh, no desire to ever eat it again], and the deep fried apple pie with cinnamon ice cream [looks and tastes better than it sounds - basically like an apple pie turnover, this one WAS my idea; conclusion: muy yum (you know it's got to be good if it's palindromically yummy!), now on the list of things that must be had at the fair every year]. Plus, their booth has awesome signage:
Alas, all too soon it was once again time to leave. I do have a spare ticket in my hot little hands, but I'm not sure if I'll get a chance to use it before it all disappears for another year.
Incidentally, this pouty face is remarkably similar to the one the bambino gives me on the very rare occasions that I don't let her play with my camera:
On a Stiiick, Day Two
Second Day at the Fair was Thursday afternoon into evening with Dad. Brenda was supposed to join us but she had a sore ankle and didn't think she could handle all that walking. So it was just pop and I.
We started by taking a picture with all my boyfriends. :)
Then we did a lot of walking around outside and people watching while Dad smoked a cigar and checked out the man-toys on Machinery Hill.
We did take the Sky Ride and got the cow car!
Unbelievably, this was Dad's first ever trip on this thing. He doesn't like heights, and even though we were enclosed it was still a little too high for his comfort, so it was probably also his last trip on the sky ride. :)
We ended with the Midway, which looked especially pretty during the "magic hour."
Also, in some live Twins blogging: Twins are full of illness and injury again and playing a very thin bench, Duensing gives up a grand slam in the bottom of the first, goes out with a strained oblique in the second, despite all of this Twins miraculously manage to tie things up, 6-6, by the top of the fourth, and then Gardy puts Dumatrait in? Followed by Mijares?
Is their death wish as strong and unavoidable as a tractor beam on the Death Star? Are they writing the book for a new musical, "How to Utterly Fail at Baseball While Really Really Trying"? Will this abysmal season ever end?
We started by taking a picture with all my boyfriends. :)
Then we did a lot of walking around outside and people watching while Dad smoked a cigar and checked out the man-toys on Machinery Hill.
We did take the Sky Ride and got the cow car!
Unbelievably, this was Dad's first ever trip on this thing. He doesn't like heights, and even though we were enclosed it was still a little too high for his comfort, so it was probably also his last trip on the sky ride. :)
We ended with the Midway, which looked especially pretty during the "magic hour."
Also, in some live Twins blogging: Twins are full of illness and injury again and playing a very thin bench, Duensing gives up a grand slam in the bottom of the first, goes out with a strained oblique in the second, despite all of this Twins miraculously manage to tie things up, 6-6, by the top of the fourth, and then Gardy puts Dumatrait in? Followed by Mijares?
Is their death wish as strong and unavoidable as a tractor beam on the Death Star? Are they writing the book for a new musical, "How to Utterly Fail at Baseball While Really Really Trying"? Will this abysmal season ever end?
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Thank God for Modern Medicine
Some friends from church have had quite the ride this past week, as their firstborn shocked everyone by arriving 11 weeks early.
You can follow the journey of this wee Menk and her parents here. If you are a praying type, I'm sure they'd appreciate your spiritual support.
All I can say is - thanks be to God for the miracles of modern medicine and the excellent staff at both Abbott and Children's Hospitals! And welcome to the world, little Naomi Marie - we are so glad you are here!
You can follow the journey of this wee Menk and her parents here. If you are a praying type, I'm sure they'd appreciate your spiritual support.
All I can say is - thanks be to God for the miracles of modern medicine and the excellent staff at both Abbott and Children's Hospitals! And welcome to the world, little Naomi Marie - we are so glad you are here!
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