SO's What

Happy Holidays 2011!

2011-12-21T10:28:00.028-06:00

Happy Holidays! Joyful Solstice! Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Joyeux Noel! Feliz Navidad! Glaedelig Jul! Seasons Greetings! Peace!

Another year has flown by, generally following the familiar and wonderful pattern of our lives over the last several years. Frequent and fun get togethers with friends and family. A great family spring break trip. Good jobs. Good health. We know that life offers no guarantees - which makes us all the more thankful that our lives continue to follow such a pleasant trajectory.

A tremendous highlight for us was a Spring Break trip to Paris. Madeline and Peter are both college graduates, but Madeline is a teacher, so we have retained the ability to plan a Spring Break trip. If my memory is correct, this is at least the sixth consecutive year that Kate has said this might be the last year that the kids will join us on a trip - so let's make it a good one. And we did. But I'm starting to think that if we keep funding the trip we might still be making family spring break trips decades from now. I hope that is true.

Paris is a magical place for us. And it was such fun to be in such a great city for art and wine and food and friends with our adult children. (There is much more description of our trip somewhere down the page - so I won't try to recreate it here).

Another highlight this year was a trip to California's wine country with our great friends Tom and Kathy Seymour.

It was such fun! Great wine. Great conversation and laughs. And it's the vacation that keeps on giving. Apparently we joined several wine "clubs" while we were there. So wine (and charge card bills) keep arriving at our door - even months after the trip.

We didn't get the opportunity to get dressed up and go dancing as a family at a "Train Party" wedding this year. But Kate and I did get the chance to go to Pennsylvania to see Kitty and Bob and attend Nick and Lindsay Albright's wedding.

Sadly, we did get dressed up as a family. But it was for the service for my mom, who died in August.

Alzheimers can be a cruel disease, and even in the best of circumstances it's never easy. Over the past years mom gradually lost her skills as a driver and then her exceptional skills as a cook and as a bridge player. But even to the last week of her life she didn't lose her personality and her joy in living. For that I am thankful. In an odd way (which I freely admit may just be a rationalization), I feel like the disease "distilled" in my mom her wonderful essential spirit as other aspects of her life fell away.

Even in this last photo of us together, I see the joy and spirit that I was lucky enough to have as such an important part of my life for the last 59 years. A life worth celebrating and trying to emulate.

Our other ancient mariner, Greta, is still hanging in there. The nerve signals from her brain no longer reach her back legs efficiently. But at 16, she's still part puppy (and part old woman).

As our only "child" still at home, she gets the royal treatment (at least from Kate, and sometimes even from me). She really is a wonder. She ignores any obstacle (including me if I am in her way) and always soldiers on.

We enjoyed lots of weekends at the cabin with friends, which are always fun. I love the fact that several have become annual traditions. Bird watching on Memorial Day. The Gang of Eight.

Labor Day. The Gang of Six. Such a great place to share with friends. We're so glad they keep coming back. And the wine and conversation on the porch only seems to get better.

This year Madeline and I made a trip to the Boundary Waters - in addition to my traditional spring and fall trips. It was three trips to this most wonderful of places for me. Marvelous. And such fun to experience with my daughter as well as with dear friends.

The kids grow up. Peter has a "for real" job in Minneapolis. Madeline is substitute teaching daily at Lincoln Elementary in Madison. Kate and I don't feel like we are growing old. The last year has been a good one indeed.

We all wish you the best this holiday season.

Happy holidays!

Stan, Kate, Madeline and Peter.

Mom - 1926 to 2011

2011-08-22T18:52:00.027-05:00

One of the best people I've ever had the privilege of knowing died recently. My mother Carol. I thought I'd share a few photos of this wonderful woman.

Here she is as a one year old. I understand they cut her curls off for the photo.

I love this old sepia toned photo of mom.

A night out in Omaha with some friends.

The girl in the polka dotted dress.

Mom and Dad on their wedding day - June 24,1950.

Their first Chrismas card photo. Really a good looking, happy couple.

And then along came trouble - a baby with a nasty case of colic (me). I'm not sure that mom found parenting me lots of fun. Or any fun. I'm sure my dad got up to take this photo and went back to bed. I'm equally sure that mom acted with grace and love. She always did.

To me, the scariest of our posed family photos. The only fake smile I can remember in a life of smiles. This was a woman who smiled from her heart.

Second place in the scary photo contest.

With Mom at Linda's wedding.

One of my favorite family photos - taken on an Alaskan cruise to celebrate Mom and Dad's 50th anniversary. Straight smiles from the "nuclears" - wackiness from the rest.

A three generation fruit plate.

With Peter at his college graduation.

A laugh with Linda and me.

With her precious double cousins about a year ago.

A little over a month ago. She had lost her desire to eat much, but not her smile. That she never lost.

August 3rd.

The last photo I took of this wonderful woman - on the day she died. It took me a very long time to figure out that on that day her face didn't capture her lovely peace. It was her hands. Here's my attempt at a eulogy for mom - written to be read (haltingly, it turns out) at the service we had to celebrate her life:

Thank you for joining us today to celebrate the life of a wonderful person. She meant the world to me and to every member of our family. It means so much to us that you took the time to join us today. Our family would particularly like to thank the staff here at Edgewater, who we now think of not as the staff but as “our friends here at Edgewater.” Mom was treated, as Lila would say, “like she was the only one here” by the folks at Beacon Springs over the last two years. Their compassion and warmth and flexibility, particularly over the last two months, has been nothing short of amazing. They made it possible for Mom to deal with the physical challenges of the last months of her life with much of the same grace and warmth that she displayed so constantly over her nearly 85 years.

Linda, Bruce and I were raised by two remarkable people.

Our father Dale – or “Big Red” as I call him now. Intelligent. Logical. With the problem solving skills of an engineer. A lover of a good argument. (He would call them “discussions” but I would argue with that characterization.) Honest to the point of sometimes being a bit blunt. With an edgy sense of humor.

And Carol, whose life we are here to celebrate today. Kind. Warm. Happy. Rarely without a genuine twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. If dad had the problem solving skills of an engineer, mom had the problem solving skills of a great counselor or minister. Friendly. Helpful. Loving.

These two were exceptionally good parents. Very different, but complementary. In my view particularly because of the fact that each of their children knew at the most fundamental level that they were loved, trusted and respected. Succeed or fail, I always knew that mom was there for me. Her love and affection have always been a constant, unquestioned part of my life. For a person like me who was a spectacularly unsuccessful athlete and awkward with girls, this was an enormous comfort. When I failed at something, I never thought it was because I wasn’t a valuable or worthwhile person. My mom’s presence in my life saw to that. Of course, that didn’t mean that dad wouldn’t remind you that your 8^th grade football coach liked having you on the team because you were “fun to talk to.” Every month. For the rest of his life.

Mom was much gentler. More supportive. With a great sense of humor, but one that was never cutting or biting. Affectionate. Always there with a smile. And a laugh or a hug. She always knew, seemingly by instinct, what you needed. Even if you were a teenage boy and what you needed was food in large quantities.

There was one notable exception to her helpful, generous nature. That was when she was playing board games and cards. She always played within the rules but she always played to win.

Dad too. Ours was a competitive household when it came to games. No quarter asked for or offered. I don’t think dad would even let a child win at Candyland. If he drew Queen Frostine, to the top of the board he went. Of course he would only play Candyland once – quickly and correctly understanding that the game was determined once the cards were placed in a pile and the rest was just wasting time finding out who won. Mom would have quickly come to the same conclusion, but she played anyway. She might have even cut her grandchildren some slack in Candyland. But not in a game that required even a small modicum of skill. No one “let” anyone else win at games in our family. That is why so often the number of players among the five of us was limited to three. With Linda and Bruce sensibly developing “other interests.” For anyone who has played a game with me in their life, I apologize. But please blame my mom and dad.

Over the last seven years, Mom and I both habitually started our day by completing the four Jumbles in the newspaper. When I was stuck on a Jumble in the morning, it was fun to call mom. She would either have already solved it – in which case she would gently help me discover the answer myself with a clue or two – which hearkened back for me to her homework help in much earlier days. Or we would solve it together. She never called me to ask for help. I don’t know if that was because she never needed help or because she was unwilling to incur the vast cost of a long distance toll call for something so frivolous. Old habits die hard.

As the Alzheimer’s took a greater toll on her game playing skills, she turned more and more to Word Search puzzles. I think it is fair to say that she was a word search savant. In her word search world, you found the next word on the list, and then circled it with an almost military precision. No working ahead searching for subsequent words. In a puzzle with twenty words if I played by her rules – which I tried to do - I’d sometimes find one or two words before she did. And as I’ve already described, I was trying. She wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. And when I did find a word I sometimes wondered if she wasn’t letting up just a bit, like she might have with a grandchild at Candyland. In her honor, we included in your program a quick word search made up of words and phrases that for one reason or another we associate with mom.

Mom was always there to help. To help me. Or Mrs. Vollers, a retired teacher in Newton who needed some help and whose family lived elsewhere. Or Lela Shultz, her wonderful neighbor at Park Center. Or Tonya, the young woman from Belarus who mom and dad met on one of their international trips. Or dozens of other friends for whom she was always there. I always find it appropriate that mom and dad’s international travel was mostly with an organization called Friendship Force. To me, mom was a one woman Friendship Force.

All of us help others. But, at least for me, it’s sometimes out of a sense of duty. Or guilt. Mom truly felt the joy of giving. She was never “counting”, never helping for show or for credit. She loved and lived to be a help. A friend. As her Alzheimer’s advanced and she sometimes became what Kate aptly described as “pleasantly confused” – she still frequently told me slightly improbable stories in our phone calls describing how she had helped someone. In her heart, I’m sure she had.

Since dad died, when I’m trying to figure out why something doesn’t work, or how to solve a problem logically, I often say I’m “Channeling Big Red.” But for most of my life when I determine how to treat people and how to behave in the interactions that make up every day, I always try my best to emulate mom. I often fail. The behavioral standard she set is hard to reach. I suppose now I can call that trying to “Channel Carol”. No one could have a better role model.

From the day I was born until a week ago - every day of my life until now - I was lucky enough to be showered with the love and respect of this wonderful woman. A great mother. A friend. I love you, mom. And I’d like to say publicly from the very bottom of my heart the last words I said to you privately. Thank you.

Wine Country

2011-06-09T10:02:00.023-05:00

It's been an amazing last couple of months. Paris with the kids. The cabin with the boys. A Boundary Waters canoe trip. Memorial Day at the cabin, counting birds and eating. And now we find ourselves in California with our good friends the Seymours, tasting wine and enjoying ourselves.

One would think that I had almost no ability to spread these various trips and vacations out in a rational way. And one would be right. But what a nice flow to go with! We are staying in a great little bungalow in Calistoga.

Our tasting trips yesterday were great, each unique. Beginning with a elegant trip to Brown Estates - stunning wine, caves, lovely presentation. Just off the charts.

The experience was amazing. And it will have legs - just like the wine - since we agreed to have their wine shipped to the tundra four times a year.

Then it was on to Behrens Family Wineries (or whatever their name is today), for a tasting in a trailer.

Again, great wine. Presented with less elegance, but with a great sense of fun. They even feature wines for meat eaters like me.

And finally on to Dehlinger, where we were hosted by Carmen Dehlinger. This was a generous act on her part - she is being married on Saturday. I'm sure we'll attend.

And of course, after a day of wine there is one great way to end the day.

It's been a remarkably fun trip so far, and I'm sure that will continue. The one counterpoint is thoughts of home. Greta, whose back legs are weak in the first place, has had a problem with one of her front legs. It's healing fine and with Peter's care I'm sure that will continue.

The far more serious concern is my mom. She's had slowly advancing dementia for a long time. But she is in a great living situation and my sister Linda does a great job of seeing her regularly and ensuring that she is well cared for. Though her memory has weakened, her basic personality has remained much the same - as sweet and loving as always.

In the last couple of weeks a hiatal hernia (basically a problem where the esophagus meets the stomach) has reoccured and created lots of discomfort for her. She has found it difficult to eat. And with the dementia she tends to simply choose not to eat - ignoring the "big picture." Linda reports that she has even been a bit stubborn. Not her normal style. Of course, I'd be stubborn too if I had a stomach ache. But my mom's behavioral standards are so much higher than mine. Any good vibes for Carol are more than welcome. Alzheimer's is such a difficult disease. And no one deserves the best more than my mom.

We're off to continue the California saga. With joy and a little sadness in our hearts.

Thursday

An up and down day for my mom yesterday - but it ended on a positive note from Linda and Claire.

As for the wine - nothing but positive notes. We had a marvelous time at the Biale vineyards.

Their wines are marvelous. Our host - a young man named Austin from all places Texas - was fun and informative. We sat on the deck in the late morning watching the fog burn off in the southern part of the Napa Valley. It's a pretty idyllic place.

We are certainly drinking wine. But not in any huge volume. Just great quality wine. Sipping and comparing and contrasting. Learning a bit. More about what we like than anything substantive about winemaking. Kate and I are now proud members of the Black Chicken Society. The photo of Kate above is just one small part of the secret handshake.

Today it's off to Stony Hill. And then to points as yet unknown.

Sunday

Our exploration of the California wine country has continued to be amazing. Over the last couple of days we've tasted wine at wineries that were new to me - a couple of which were new to Tom and Kathy as well. One was Salvestrin - where we talked Caterpillars with Eddie Salvestrin, and wines with Luke.

We also had a great tour of a winery called Littorai - whose approach is bio-dynamic and sustainable, and whose wines are great.

The experiences have been wonderful and extremely varied. Wineries from fancy to basic. Bocce ball in St. Helena.

We played on the town courts in the afternoon and went back to spectate a bit after a lovely dinner that evening.

I've put together a short video. I've never posted a video on the blog - I hope it works to convey a bit of the experience.

Enjoy. We are.

Tuesday

Now that we've returned to San Francisco, I can get a bit retrospective about the wine portion of the trip. About the wines and the people. So interesting and varied. In my mind the best of the wineries fell naturally into groups. Two long time producers - part farmers, part great wine makers - Biale and Salvestrin. Two wineries stalking wine making perfection without as much regard for the god of marketing - Dehlinger and Litterai. And two purveyors of elegance in their wine and their tasting rooms and everywhere - Brown and Merry Edwards. And an old friend finally met in person - Carol Shelton. And, more important than the rest, two old friends often met in person - Tom and Kathy.

No reflection of the wine country would be complete without a reference to the people we met along the way. Austin and Luke, friends from different wineries. Carmen Dehlinger (now perhaps "Mrs. Carmen _____" - we missed the wedding). Eddie Salvestrin. The accountant at the bocce court and Stan the mouthy player (he seemed vaguely familiar). Niles, our six and a half year old host at Litterai.

And most of all for a thousand laughs now and I'm sure many more to come - B. Fife, Deputy Sommolier. If I tried to describe him like you might a wine I'd go with "part Barney Fife, with a Dobby the house elf note. An essence of uneven sideburn on the cheek. And an ephemeral quality - appearing and disappearing almost magically." I think I'm happy enough that I didn't get a photo. Legends don't need photos.

Paris 2011

2011-03-27T02:56:00.053-05:00

Magic

There are magical places in the world. Paris is one for me. We arrived yesterday morning after a sleepless overnight flight. Walked to our train connection from the airport to Paris, only to discover that trains were not running from Charles de Gaulle over the weekend due to construction. But we figured out that there was a bus to another stop on the route. Found the bus. And the train and the train connection after that. We got to our lovely little apartment just at 9:30 - check-in time. We wandered out for essentials (Euros, cheese, wine, beer, pate and bread - in about that order). Had a lovely lunch notwithstanding the aftereffects of the flight and the airplane food on all of us (especially Peter). We took an afternoon nap for a few hours. I awoke with a headache easily controlled by a great coffee. In the next hour or so the other three awoke. Darkness had fallen and we were ready for Saturday night in Paris.

We decided to try to go to a restaurant a couple of miles away. One we'd neither been to or walked by. As the one with the mental map of Paris (and no actual map) we set off. We had a leisurely stroll across the Seine, by the Louvre, along part of the route of the Tour de France, through the wacky Chatelet (looking in shop windows as we passed them),

past the Pompideau Center and the 500 year old church next door, down a couple of small streets to our restaurant of choice. Pretty modern (for Paris) and to my eyes about half empty (or full, depending on your point of view). The owner couldn't have been nicer in asking if we had a reservation. "Non." "Dommage." "Do you have another place?" she asked. I would have answered "We're staying in the 7th Arrondisement." But Kate actually understands French. She and the owner have a short and, to me, unintelligible conversation. Whereupon the owner leaves her restaurant, charges across the street to a little restaurant of a friend of hers, and waves us into the last table there. The place was older. Small and full - with one wall all mirrors to avoid claustrophobia (it worked. It took a while for us to realize that the place was half the size it appeared to be.)

Oddly, Peter had said earlier in the day that one thing he wanted to try on this trip was blood sausage. Of course, the first item on the menu was blood sausage. Magic. Peter and I had that to start.

MO had proscuitto and mozzarella salad,

and Kate had some amazing clam ravioli in cream sauce. From there until the dessert the meal was amazing. The waitress was great fun. It was so fun to be there as a group of four, in a city I love with people I love. On the way back I took us a different way. Through the Marais. Past the Hotel de Ville and then some church called Notre Dame (don't care much for the school but the church sure was pretty. Might have to go back).

Through the Latin Quarter, stopping to look at a Greek guy who roped us into a bad restaurant a decade or so ago with his "Here we dance!!! Here we sing!!" spiel. Churches aren't the only monuments here.

And eventually back to our quiet little apartment. We'll probably go to a cemetery today. If someone rises from the dead it wouldn't surprise me. After all, it's Sunday. It's Lent. And it's Paris. And this place is magic.

Monday in Paris

Hello again from Paris.

Over the last couple of days we've had a great time wandering the city. We spent much of Sunday in the Pere Lachaise cemetery. Monday in the Louvre, and the Orangerie (a smaller museum featuring water lillies by Monet), and walking the streets of Paris, and high atop the Arc du Triumphe (both things visible in the photo above). And when we feel the need to explore elsewhere we have just jumped on the Metro and gone to a different place. The Champs d'Elysee and Place Pigalle are hugely different places. But both fun and interesting. It's a city with both a literal and figurative right and left bank.

If you get a chance to see paintings by Chaim Soutine, do it. They're great.

Of course eating has occupied much of our time. And sipping on a biere and watching the people pass by.

I'm always struck in this city by the wonderful contrasts. The Pere Lachaise cemetery is a fairly serious place, with crypts and gravestones dating from the American Revolutionary War to today.

And yet, as you walk along you come to Oscar Wilde's crazy tombstone.

A few meters more and it's a memorial stone to survivors of World War II concentration camps.

Even in the Louvre, that most staid of museums, there are signs of change and contrast. This new art added since we were here last.

Or this dude "high" above us in one room.

He made us laugh. But maybe think a bit too.

A great city - Paris. It reminds me that people can build things and not screw them up. Of course, much of the power here comes from nuclear power plants. Clearly, the converse is true too. This week my focus is squarely on the positive.

Decisions

One of the challenges of a trip like ours is group decision making. What to do? Where to eat? I guess those are basically the only decisions we need to make.

Do you let the Four Day Museum Pass which expires on Thursday control the decision making process? Mostly we don't. It was easy to decide to go to the Musee d'Orsay first thing yesterday (at about 10:30 a.m). It's close. It has to have the best selection of Impressionist art in the world. There was construction going on - so there was less to see than on other visits. But still lots of great stuff. And a new "no photos" policy.

Then lunch back at the apartment. Kate has not imposed a no photos policy.

And actually this highly complex organization of lunch was my work.

Then, since the day was sunny, we decided to climb to the top of Notre Dame to look out over the city.

But it inexplicably closed early. So we visited San Chappelle, an amazing little cathedral built in the 1200's.

And when we came out of the cathedral it was . . . raining. Two jackets and no umbrellas for four people. Sir Walter Stan gave Kate his jacket and we headed back to the apartment, in a less than cheery mood.

Then it was dinner planning time. A complex negotiation. The Vietnamese/French place 20 meters down the street? It's written up very favorably in two of our books. How about the restaurant right across the street? People who've stayed here seem to have liked it. Or the Joel Roubochon restaurant only a couple of blocks away? It had been on "No Reservations". But it's probably more upscale than we are. I had liked the look of the Bistrot du Universite a couple of blocks away. While Kate and I were off getting some supplies we took a look. Small. Not too formal. It didn't seem to be a place frequented heavily by tourists (a positive from our points of view). We tried it and were treated to a wonderful meal.

Foie gras shared to start. Peter and Kate had a steak which they raved about. Madeline a lamb shank. I had rabbit in mustard sauce with Brussels Sprouts - amazing. The wine was the best we'd had on the trip. The desserts were tremendous, though the waiter refused to give me a bowl of the mustard sauce as dessert. He was fun, and resisted the temptation to respond to our French in English.

Decision making at its finest (or luckiest).

Nous Amis

We spent most of yesterday below ground with our friend Chris, who Kate and I have known for over thirty years. In the evening we rendezvoused with his girlfriend Valerie, and immediately felt we had known her for almost as long.

We saw almost no art. Instead, for something different, we visited the Musee des Egouts de Paris - a museum dedicated to the sewers of Paris. Some interesting history as we examined a very real and kind of odiferous section of the sewers.

Chris is no fan of rats. But who is? As we moved on we stayed underground, visiting the Catacombes. It's a place in Paris where thousands of skeletons have been relocated. A bit sobering perhaps.

But actually very interesting. Even a bit religious and inspirational. And very French. We were all very glad to have gone.

It's a long series of tunnels. Dark and a bit damp. With religiously oriented plaques which Kate, Madeline and Chris worked together to translate into English. Interestingly though not surprisingly, concepts involving life, death, eternity and salvation are much more complicated to translate than "where is the bathroom?" or "I would like the veal, please."

Appropriately, no flash photography is allowed. This gave Peter and me a chance to work on our stability and to learn how to operate our cameras a bit better.

Then, after a stop for a snack and a trip to the Limognes store to purchase some small items, it was on to Valerie's apartment. Such fun. Lots of laughs and great conversation with Chris and Valerie.

In our conversations we discovered to our surprise that on the day after we arrived France had gone on daylight savings time. So perhaps it was a bit more understandable that we were denied entrance to Notre Dame (though we were more than an hour before closing time at that). Fortunately we discovered this fact before we were an hour late as we made our way to our plane on Saturday morning.

We "louped" our way to one of Valerie's favorite restaurants in an area of Paris somewhere near the Pere Lachaise cemetery we visited earlier in the week. The specialties were from Cameroon and Senegal - two African countries in which French is often spoken. Yet another amazing meal! And without a doubt at a restaurant we would never have found without the aid of our friends. In fact, we barely found it with them!

Another wonderful day - this time in the underground side of Paris.

L'Addition C'nest Pas Du Specialite

Another lovely (if gray) day in Paris. We wandered through the city after a late start, stopping at the Pompidou Center to look at some of the modern art there. Kate and I really loved the work of Sonia Delaunay and her husband Robert.

From there it was a short walk and a medium wait to climb high atop Notre Dame to look at gargoyles and view the city from on high.

A stop for a beer and a bit more strolling brought us back to our apartment. And then it was time for dinner.

We decided on Tan Dinh - a Vietnamese restaurant (with a French influence). A little aside - when we first met in 1977, long before we were dating, Kate suggested that I take a friend to a St. Paul restaurant which I think was called The Phoenix. She described in fairly glowing terms as "Vietnamese, with a French influence." Pretty classy stuff for a rube from Iowa. Ever since, lists of cuisines for us have included styles like Italian, French, Mexican and Vietnamese (with a French influence). How could we resist just such a restaurant, with a stellar reputation, just three doors down on our little Rue du Vernueil?

We've had great luck with restaurants and waiters and waitresses during our stay. I don't suppose you could say we have developed "relationships" with them, but earlier in the day we had waved hello and exchanged smiles with our waiter from two nights ago as he walked by on his way to the bakery. This was to be no exception.

Tan Dinh does not accept credit cards. But, having learned our lesson earlier in the week, we prepared ourselves by making a trip to our trusty ATM for a cash infusion of 200 more Euros, bringing our cash supply to about 250 Euros. Since the cost of our dinners this week have ranged from 100 to 200 Euros, we were all set.

We were greeted at Tan Dinh by the host/owner, all 4'10" of him. An elderly gentlemen, with an endearing style that made you want to hug him. We had had such success the previous night when our new friend Valerie ordered for the group, that we followed the same pattern. Kate and our host conversed and laughed and conversed some more. Our order was agreed upon and yet another memorable meal began. Ravioli with smoked goose.

Shrimp with a lovely sauce. The appetizers paired with a small bottle of a crisp white wine.

The Old Gentleman was such fun, giving us suggestions on his view of the best approach to the food, and literally feeding us our first bite of the main courses.

Duck, beef and chicken. Each excellent. As was the red wine paired with them.

"Dessert?" "Non. L'addition s'il vous plait." And then our bill came. 273 Euros. A bit higher than expected, particularly when we had only 250 Euros in our pocket. So I was once again sent scurrying for money to pay for an already eaten dinner.

Apparently, while I was dashing for cash Kate described the situation as "pas grave." However, when I was told by my Friendly Cash Machine that my limit for the day on my Wells Fargo cash card was exceeded, the situation seemed to me to be "un peu grave." But not too grave. I had an American Express card. I wouldn't leave home without it. In it went. When my Friendly Cash Machine told me that it would only deign to speak with cards with a little chip in them, and a four digit identification number. The gravity of the situation increased just a bit. My MasterCard received a similar response from my Friendly Cash Machine. I wish I had worn a hat so that I could put it in my hand as I returned to the restaurant with the same cash supply I departed with.

But never send an old man to do a young man's work. Peter had his cash card (avec le quatre digit id). So off he went, now accompanied by the Old Gentleman. This slows the process somewhat - since the Old Gentleman moves at a markedly slower pace than the long-legged Pierre. But justice prevailed! Liberty and Equality were restored! No one was beheaded. Thanks to Peter, cash was obtained. International relations may be a bit tense for a day or two, but peace is restored.

And I'll be a bit tense too. Particularly this morning when I go to visit my Friendly Cash Machine to start our last full day in Paris.

Pain au Vin

We spent our last day in Paris wandering around. Perhaps not totally successfully. My internal compass usually works pretty well. But not so much today. We did our best to try to get reservations at Frenchie - a restaurant that was featured on Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations." But we failed. So it goes. Perhaps the No Reservations connection was an omen.

I find it doesn't really matter. We have a bottle of wine (well, thanks mostly to me, we HAD a bottle of wine). And a baguette from the Eric Kaiser boulangerie on the corner.

I'm just eating it plain. Without the fromages du chevre and blue cheese that I've become accustomed to over the last week. The crust is wonderfully crisp. The center fresh and even a bit doughy.

And the kids brought back another bottle of wine. We are managing things for the train trip to the airport tomorrow at 6:30 am.

Nous Finisons

The trip home went well. A complex trip to the airport negotiated well (other than one "ass over teakettle" fall by me, brought on by the combination of clumsiness, bifocals, the early hour and a heavy bag).

Here are a last few images from the end of our trip.

A courageous street juggler.

The artistry of a Meilleur Ouvrier de France.

The Bistrot du Paris - site of our last dinner.

The dining girls.

Cruising over Greenland - bound for Minnesota.

But part of our heart remains in Paris.

Happy Holidays - 2010

2010-12-18T19:29:00.029-06:00

As 2010 draws to a close, we wish you the joys of the season and hope this finds you well.

2010 has been a fun year for us. Changes for Madeline and Peter. A pleasant stability for Kate and Stan.

In August Madeline accepted a one year position teaching 7th Grade Science at River Bluff Middle School in Stoughton, Wisconsin (just south of Madison). She's been going one hundred miles an hour ever since. Enjoyable, challenging and exhausting are all descriptions of her experience that come to mind. After her year substitute teaching, having her own classroom has been great. Hopefully she will soon have a full time teaching position (she seems to me to have a "full time plus" position this year).

Peter graduated from the University of Iowa in May. Then it was back to the Twin Cities to embark on the unenviable task of finding a "real" career job in marketing.

So far he hasn't found a long-term position. So he is doing an unpaid internship with the Friends of the Mississippi River, working as a waiter at a local pizza restaurant and working as a "manny" (a very manly nanny) three days a week.

Living at home has worked out fine so far. We get along well and there are worse things in life than living in close proximity to a "foodie" like Kate. In fact, as I can attest, there are few things better.

Kate continues to shine in every aspect of life - whether it's combating Medicaid fraud at the Attorney General's office, dreaming up culinary surprises, or just being fun to be around.

I continue to navigate my way through life very well (with lots of help and "advice" from Kate - whose only apparent flaw is her penchant for "nagivation" when she doesn't have the wheel). My 80% time job at Scoular is great, trips to the BWCA and get-togethers with "the boys" and other groups of friends are frequent. Life is good.

Our final family member, Greta, has reached the ripe old age of 14 1/2. Since the average life expectancy of Weimaraners is about 10 years - this is quite an accomplishment. She's still part puppy and part old woman. Her muscle control in her hind legs comes and goes. Her appetite is a constant, as is her desire to be on the other side of any door she sees.

Both my mom Carol and Kate's mother Kitty (and her partner Bob) are doing well. Distance makes it hard to see them as often as we would like. But we've seen them regularly this year.

Our biggest purchase this year was a pontoon, which allows us to range farther and wider on our many trips to our cabin. We bought it used, tied it to our dock, and, while we were back in the Twin Cities, it sunk (one of the pontoons had a tiny hole in it). The seller, who lives in the area and had sold it to us "as is," took it upon himself to get it out of the lake, repaired and returned to our dock without us lifting a finger. There really are some great people out there, especially in northern Wisconsin.

A wonderful addition to the cabin experience.

Once again this year's family Spring trip was to Utah. This time a return to Zion National Park. The photos below were taken on our ascent of Angel's Landing in the snow and ice on a warm, sunny day. Kate proved her intelligence by refusing to make the last part of the climb. Peter proved his athleticism by leaving Madeline and me in the dust (or, in this case, in the slush). Madeline and I slowly made our way up and down, being careful and probably kind of stupid at the same time. A very memorable day. It's such a joy to Kate and to me that Peter and Madeline are still willing to join us on trips. The reasons could be economic; but I like to think that it's the fun we have together. Plans are taking shape for a trip to Paris this spring!

A toast to you from snowy Minnesota. Come and see us!

Stan, Kate, Madeline and Peter

The Life of a Prince?

2010-08-29T17:21:00.014-05:00

As noted below - May was a lovely and crazy month. So much fun that June began with an attack of The Gout. August has been another great month. Our friends the Seymours and the Lacks made their way to the cabin for a great weekend. I assiduously avoided beer (in deference of course to The Gout). Nothing but wine and maybe a martini or a bourbon or a Scotch. It was the high road for me.

It may have affected my bocce game. We selected teams randomly - but the match ended up being men vs. women. The woofing the men were doing before the match,

Was followed by substantial "eating of crow" upon its completion.

Then it was off to Lake Michigan for a great sailing adventure with the Crosses.

Any suggestion in this photo that I am even partly responsible for sailing the Escapade is just an illusion. Captain Dan and First Mate Francine were fully in control. I was a willing "before the mast" hand, but nothing more.

Then it was on to the Minesota State Fair with Peter and Kate. I did have a beer. And a Donna's Pork sandwich. And a "footlong" walleye dog.

And a porcupine meatball.

Of course I wanted to look good at the fair. After years of haircuts from Madeline, Peter and Kate, Peter and I concluded last time that I could do the lion's share of a cut myself - calling him in for the "fine work" at the end. As I was cutting away, something felt different. When I looked to the floor and saw the #3 attachment lying there, I realized that perhaps I can't cut my own hair.

Did I mention that my toe is beginning to hurt?

A Different Lens

2010-07-24T08:57:00.012-05:00

I recently acquired a new full size SLR digital camera. The result - lots of camera fun.

Loons are closer.

Sunsets crisper.

Wine glasses look better (and they always look good).

It's even more fun to see your grandfather.

I even think my mom and her cousins look happier (though of course I give some credit to the photographer's incredibly witty comments).

The Red Bull Flugtag is even more fun.

Food looks better.

Lots of fun.

It's like magic.

It's The Life of a King

2010-06-06T11:44:00.015-05:00

During the month of May I lived the life of royalty. I became the Captain of our mighty pontoon boat, plying the waters of Cranberry Lake and the neighboring Minong Flowage as the master of my domain.

Note the wine stained teeth. I ate and drank like royalty at the cabin with the Boycz, even donned handsome jackets for dinner like a royal entourage. The wine flowed. The food came from the very top of the food chain.

We helped Peter celebrate his graduation from the University of Iowa, again with fine food, beer and wine.

It was truly a month of get-togethers filled with fun (and consumption).

A canoe trip to Canada - again with consumption of food and wine a central part of the experience.

My "splash" cup was never far away and rarely empty.

Lots and lots of laughs, some big fish. Yes, exercise was part of the equation. But a smaller factor than fun with food and drink.

I returned from the canoe trip, and Memorial Day was upon me. Kate's cabin menu was amazing, supplemented by woodcock wrapped in bacon at the Olson cabin.

We watched birds, ate, drank, talked, laughed and then we watched birds, ate, drank, talked, laughed.

Fun, frivolity and food have been the more or less constant order of the day for me for the past month. But it appears there is a price to pay. Over the last couple of days I've been afflicted with an attack of the dreaded Gout. My right big toe looks like an alcoholic's nose, red and swollen. Wikipedia helpfully points out that "Historically gout was known as "the disease of kings" or "rich man's disease" - so perhaps you could call my current condition a royal pain in the toe.

We always told the kids as we were raising them that actions have consequences. It appears that an aching toe is the consequence of my behavior in the recent past. It's a small price to pay for all the fun - so I find it hard to feel too badly about my condition. Until I try to walk somewhere. Ouch!

Greta

2010-05-02T19:28:00.009-05:00

Greta is getting old. The puppy we added to the family fourteen years ago is less of a puppy now.

She still seems puppylike when the subjects are either food (anything with carbon in it) or walks (which at this point are mostly a search for food, though she will walk all day without any real regard for how her legs feel). But she sleeps more. Wheezes. And her hips are failing her. To land on the couch she builds up speed and executes a long, flat jump. She can’t go straight up any more.

My favorite visual of Greta was one that occurred several times when she was young and running around with other dogs. Her speed was a thing of beauty. And with long legs and high center of gravity when she was up to speed she couldn’t stop on a dime. Sometimes she’d come to a pack of dogs, realize she couldn’t stop, and jump over them. A steeplechase dog. An amazing sight to see.

Kate has a seemingly infinite amount of patience for Greta. She gets real joy from having her around and, in what must be for her a bonus, she has developed a style of doggie-talk in speaking to Greta that bugs me mildly (it’s one of the few things she has in common with Big Red). She does it now partly I’m sure to get a rise and a laugh out of me.

I have a small and finite amount of patience for Greta. She has never seen a door she doesn’t want to be on the other side of. If she wants something, she wants it now. So she will whine or bark if you don’t let her in or out within three seconds. I get a little grumpy on this score. I’m actually slightly more patient on this score with her advancing age. But I’m not really a person who wants or needs a pet. Humans are infinitely interesting to me, but not pets.

So Friday night at the cabin when Greta began barking in the middle of the night I took it to be one more example of her advancing senility. At home she sleeps in a room in the basement. But at the cabin each night’s sleep is interrupted by Greta’s movements. She is never on our bed at home. But our queen-sized bed at the cabin always ends up with Kate, me and a long dog who is convinced (we trained her this way) that she is the center of the universe. And as soon as it’s light at the cabin she’s always ready to go off on a search for carbon. Guess who is the one who gets up and takes a walk with her as the sun breaks over the horizon. Those walks are some of my favorite cabin times. Regardless, I always feel put upon when I’m dragged out of bed. I watch birds and stroll along in the woods. Greta is never happier than when she is chasing hither and yon through the woods after deer (never caught one), rabbits (two caught over the years) or game birds.

She’s a pointer, instinctively pointing at birds and other game. These days she points less, and often at sticks or piles of leaves. Creeping closer until she realizes her prey is a stick, then sauntering off as if to say she was just practicing her craft – kind of like the way I break into a jog after tripping in a failed effort to look less clumsy.

Saturday night as we were eating dinner there was a big commotion outside. Kate and I got up from the table to check and discovered that a good-sized black bear had knocked over the garbage can with sunflower seeds and dog food. Greta was going nuts as Kate saw the bear vanish into the night. She went outside and was in her prime again for a few minutes – tracking the bear’s movements by smell. Weimaraners were originally bred as bear hunting dogs. And you could get a glimpse of generations of Greta’s family at work as she moved through the yard.

What I assumed was senility was her following her most basic instincts. She kept hunting for the bear until we enticed her into the cabin with a dog biscuit. She took the sure reward over the long shot of capturing the bear. Maybe she has learned something in her fourteen years.

Zionists

2010-03-15T08:46:00.021-05:00

Instant Karma - Zion Style

After what can only be called a challenging Saturday making our way through a snowstorm to Zion National Park from Salt Lake City, we arrived wearily late Saturday night as beleaguered travelers. But Zion revitalizes spirits almost instantly.
The day, which was supposed to have been cloudy and rainy, dawned clear and stayed that way all day.

Entering the town in the dark made the surroundings invisible to us. What joy to see this view from our hotel room! As usual, I was the first one up. I made my way to the Mean Bean for a coffee, sharing the establishment and pleasantries with two mountain bikers. Soon the family was rolling and we made our way to Oscar's for an amazing breakfast.

As we left, in my excitement, I left my Plasticville cap on my seat. One of the intrepid mountain bikers - who had also migrated to Oscar's - kindly kept me from leaving this valued possession. It was with a smile we hiked under waterfalls to Upper Emerald Pool. An easy and pleasant hike to get loose.

And a sloppy one with recently melted snow as we made our way back to the valley. The red mud was slippery, but Kate - ever the one to keep things neat - ensured that her hiking pants stayed neat by pulling up the legs.

We had loads of fun on a few short hikes around the area. Then it was on to dinner. As we entered the restaurant I saw a stocking hat on the floor near the hostess' stand. I picked it up and was about to give it to the hostess when who should come out of the bathroom but one of the mountain bikers - who had dropped his hat on the way in. Amazing serendiptity. It is admittedly a small town. But when that sort of coincidence combines with the natural beauty of this place it's hard not to ponder higher powers.

Today our troupe of intrepid wanderers does a more strenuous hike to Observation Point. More observations (with accompanying photos) to come.

Rejected!!!

It's NCAA basketball season, so maybe that's the reason. We started our hike to Observation Point yesterday uneventfully.

Excited. Ready to go. And breathing hard after a couple of minutes. Winding our way up this shady group of switchbacks toward Echo Canyon above.

But the results of the snowstorm that was our nemesis on our trip to Zion hit us again on what I will now think of as "Mutumbo Corner" when an inch of ice on the trail rejected our shot at the top and slapped us back to the valley. So, in an ironic twist, ice forced us to spend the day in the valley working on our tans by the pool.

With a beach day behind us, we are now armed with ice cleats to put on over our boots. Today we try the route to Angel's Landing with hopes of success.

At Our Angelic Best
Yesterday we made our way up to Angel's Landing, a rather daunting hike physically and mentally. I thought the hike showed each of us at our best. Kate's self-knowledge in deciding when to turn back and patience and grace in waiting for our return (a wait measured in hours and not minutes). Peter with his athleticism and humor, usually in the distance as Madeline and I plodded along to the top of Angel's Landing.

Madeline and I were the question marks in getting to the top. As this photo illustrates, the hike is nothing if not daunting.

Especially so with all the ice and snow. Peter was kind enough to wait until our return to tell us that the ice and snow made it a much harder climb than when he did it four years ago. Those dropoffs are steep and real.

Madeline was wonderful. Patient, and with a "go for it (but safely)" attitude that was just perfect. Here's a photo of us at the top.

Oops, that's the Staniforth clan in San Antonio. This damn computer age. But I know that part of at least Art and Ben are here in this area in spirit. Here's Madeline and me high atop Angel's Landing.

To say the view there is amazing is understating things.

You can look as hard as you wish, but you still can't see our car down in the valley. But it illustrates that the hike is a long, steep one.

Both MO and I found the trip back down even more daunting than the trip up.

But we reached the bottom happy and healthy.

A beautiful day. Sore muscles and high spirits. Even with a 10 second timer I couldn't quite get into the photo - I'll be a slow hiker today.

Day of the Condor

Yesterday's hike started identically to the hike to Angel's Landing. So it was cardiovascularly challenging. But when we reached a place called Scout Point we went a different direction toward the much less populated West Rim Trail. A rewarding choice. Soon we were looking down over the valley watching three condors fly below us. Odd to watch such a magnificent bird soar from above.

This is not my photo, though it might well have been taken here. The three birds had apparently been sitting where we were only 10 minutes or so before. Seeing them at that range would have been great, but for a bird watcher like me (and for all of us) it was quite a treat even from a longer range.

Our hike was much more a solitary exercise. The West Rim is beautiful but not as popular or populated as the route to Angel's Landing. Still, for reasons that are probably obvious, we felt right at home and found it great.

We had a nice lunch in the sun while watching the snow melt into rivers. That's a sight that any Minnesotan in March is happy to see.

A lovely day.

Going Home Again

They always say "you can't go home again." But that has proved untrue in two ways in the last couple of days (and hopefully three as we fly back to St. Paul today). Our last hike of the week was a special one. Back to Echo Canyon, an incredibly beautiful spot that was a real favorite when last we were in Zion.

It was blocked by snow and ice on Monday, and the snow and ice were still there but significantly melted on Thursday.

It's hard to capture how beautiful this place is. But here are a few attempts.

You can see and feel the effects of time and pressure.

Just amazing. Peter hiked to the top and Observation Point.

Madeline and I joined Kate in the valley below, where we could concentrate on our other major interests this week - food and basketball.

Peter remembered with great fondness, an Aussie Burger breakfast special at Oscar's. He and Madeline went off menu and ordered one - to great effect!

An Achiever to be sure.

And last night, after returning to Salt Lake City, we returned "home again" to the Red Iguana - our favorite Mexican restaurant.
So maybe you can go home again. And when we do, Kate will be free to watch only part of Badger games.

Sort of a Dutchman In Pennsylvania

2010-02-21T09:52:00.008-06:00

Kate and I have spent the last few days in Pennsylvania visiting Kitty and Bob. We arrived in the aftermath of a couple of large snowstorms. A small roof leak put me on snow patrol with limited access to the roof. The results were a bit comical.

Since my mom's family is Dutch, I am partially a Dutchman (and a Welshman and an Irishman and a Dane and several other cultures). We haven't spent much time in the Pennsylvania Dutch area, so this was an opportunity. Bob has done lots of work in the area around Lancaster - an area with lots of Amish residents. Yesterday we did a little touring around the Lancaster area. Of course, we had to stop at Costco Lancaster. Mostly to see the parking lot - which has an area specially designated for those arriving at Costco by horse and buggy.

It was a beautiful drive through the snowy countryside.

It's fun to see a different culture in action. We had a chance to have a brief conversation with a gentleman Bob knows who makes rolltop desks and his cute granddaughter, and to drive through the countryside passing buggies every now and then.

A nice day in a nice part of the world.

Happy Holidays - 2009

2009-12-20T11:40:00.040-06:00

As 2009 draws to a close, we wish you the best.

2009 has been a great year for our family. Eventful. Fun. Busy. With a bit of trauma (but no really bad news - just a couple of bumps in the road).

I thought I'd try to illustrate with a few bests and worsts.

Best Wild Party:

Note: Peter and Madeline are not included in this best/worst category. They are supposed to go to wild parties. But for the wheezers it had to be a great dinner party at Don and Phil's downtown Minneapolis condominium. Wonderful food. Great company. Way too much wine. 2 a.m. found us in the rooftop hot tub (which closed at 10 p.m.), surrounded by snow drifts, looking over downtown.

Home at 3:30 A.M.!!! A Saturday party worth the sacrifice of a Sunday.

Best Joke:

Stan is excluded from this category (his jokes are all incredibly funny - to him). Honorable mention: While hard at work for the University of Iowa catering service, Peter made a truly excellent double entrendre on the phrase "roll (role) reversal." It was a great moment for me when he called almost immediately to relate the joke. I get a much greater sense of parental pride from the jokes of my children than I do from grades or other more traditional accomplishments.

Honorable mention 2: On our spring break trip to Moab, Peter named this lunchtime lounge spot:

"The Barkless Lounger."

Shortly thereafter we started making puns using variations on the "Navajo Arch." I thought we had almost exhausted the possibilities when Madeline asked, "What do you call Native American Junk Food? The Nava HoHo®." I call that a winner.

Most Unusual Lunch Spot:

Also on our Moab trip, we dined at one of the most scenic spots ever.

A great trip in every way.

Worst Moment:

A 6 a.m. call on a February Saturday morning from Madeline asking advice on how to deal with being in Wausau, Wisconsin with two severely damaged front teeth caused by breaking the fall from a slip on the ice with her teeth (Madeline's worst moment of the year had come 4 or 5 hours earlier).

This photo has been gently edited to protect the sensitive. If you are a person who loves a good horror movie, you can see the unretouched photo by clicking here. The entire process took until November to complete. Madeline got very skilled at eating without using the cosmetic front teeth that her dentist installed.

Most Dangerous Moment:

On a cold windy day as four of us began our May canoe trip, the Lack and Seymour canoe tipped in 41 degree water. It was a bit too exciting for four guys in their fifties. No photos are available of the actual dumping or its immediate aftermath (we were a little busy at the time). Suffice it to say that "big boy" clothes were in very high demand for the next couple of days.

Two days later we experienced a daylong snow and ice storm. But we refined our cribbage game, had enough spirit (and spirits) to make it through, and remain the best of friends.

And from now on we'll bore anyone who is willing listen with stories of the great canoe dumping of 2009.

The weather on my September trip to the woods with Harry was as nice as it was challenging in May.

A little instant karma for me.

Best Move:

Our best move had to be moving Stan's mom Carol to a new facility in Des Moines.

She's a sweetie, and doing really well, notwithstanding the memory issues that are a part of her life. She and her new buddy Lila are more or less inseparable.

Linda and I are so happy this move has worked so well.

Best Birthday Party:

Bob Bower's 80th. We drove to Pennsylvania to celebrate with Bob, Kitty and family. A great time, and we survived a long drive in the 2001 Oldsmobile Intrigue which my mom used to drive.

This led to . . .

Best (and Only) Car Purchase of the Entire Decade:

Doesn't Kate look at home behind the wheel of our new Toyota? I got to drive the other night. Bumped into Congressman Keith Ellison. I'm back in the rider's seat now, where I belong.

Best Nature Experience:

Shakespeare, the barred owl who spent ten days or so around our house this summer.

We still search the trees for his return.

Best Weekend and Wedding:

It had to be Labor Day in Chicago for Sarah and Sam Blatnick's wedding. Great times with great friends.

And another chance to get all shined up.

Most Surprising Development:

Kate and I have become Costcoholics.

I would have bet we were "born to buy retail" when it came to food (and much, much more!!). I was wrong.

Best Weekend at the Cabin:

Each weekend was a winner. Time spent at the cabin is great (and we did better at getting there this year).

Best Wishes:

A sincere wish of joy to you and yours this holiday and every day.

Peter, Madeline, Kate and Stan

The Dirty Greek

2009-10-18T17:42:00.005-05:00

Kate and I are at the cabin – closing it up for the season. It’s been a cool but great Saturday. Lovely drive up here yesterday in our new Venza. Perhaps because we had a canoe on top of the car, I got to drive – an experience I enjoyed immensely.

Kate slept in this morning, so Greta and I took a nice walk to the corner where we turn down Bartlett Road to our cabin. A woods of constancy or gentle change for the two decades we’ve owned the cabin. This spring Barny and I saw a big flock of crossbills there. But in the past week or so radical change has ensued, as the company that owned the woods now owns a big pile of wood and a field with lots of tree branches strewn about in it.

The web of ATV trails that I knew like the back of my hand and have used so many times for bird watching and dog walking is no more. Barn and I will have to find other woods to search for crossbills and scarlet tanagers and “indago” buntings. So it goes. Things do change, after all. Sad to see this particular habitat go. Then again, our best warbler area was similarly cut four or five years ago.

After another walk this afternoon we took out the last section of the dock. I had a nice sauna to warm my feet after spending a little time in the water. Took the last outdoor shower of the season, and was ready for an adult beverage. One of my favorites in this situation is a dirty martini, with blue cheese stuffed Sicilian green olives. We’re winding down the cabin for the year and I didn’t bring any green olives. But there were some pitted Kalamata olives. In this case desire, if not necessity, was the mother of invention (I believe Frank Zappa was the father or the Mothers of Invention – but that’s another matter). So I invented “The Dirty Greek”! It suffices quite well, and the pinkish cast is a nice touch.

All these changes. New car. No woods. New drink. At least they came in threes. Cause change is hard. Though with each sip I’m becoming more and more accustomed to The Dirty Greek.

The End of the Dome

2009-10-07T17:54:00.005-05:00

I've always been a baseball fan. It's a great game. No time clock. Lots of strategy and subtlety. And our local team the Twins are just the sort of team I've grown to like best - though since I live here I'm sure I'd be a Twins fan in any case. Next year the Twins move outside to a new stadium - which will be great. I'm looking forward to summer nights at the stadium.

One of the consequences is that the dome won't be hosting any more baseball games. For a regular season game in mid-season, that won't be much of a loss. It's a football stadium where they play baseball. But when it's packed and the crowd is roaring, there is no place where I've had more fun watching a baseball game. The first game of the 1987 World Series was one of my great sports memories. And though I didn't go in person, the best 3 games I remember were all played at the Dome.

The 6th game of the 1991 World Series between the Twins and the Braves - the Kirby Puckett game - was amazing.

Kirby made an amazing hit-robbing catch, and followed it up with a home run to win the game. The next night Jack Morris pitched 10 shutout innings and the Twins won the series. Two great games.

But last night the Twins beat the Tigers in a one game play-in game for this year's playoffs that was even better. The Twins had been chasing the Tigers since May - but really only started making any progress in early September. It was just a great, great game. For Twins fans things had been building to this game for a while. And it was just a thrill ride.

If the other two games were movies they would have been tense thrillers like "Rear Window." Last night's game was "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark". In a way it was too bad that either team had to lose. But if one did, I was glad that it was the Tigers.

Urban Bird Watching II

2009-08-24T15:23:00.005-05:00

In the spring we were visited at our house in the geographic middle of the Twin Cities by a wild turkey. On our return from the cabin last evening we had another interesting avian visitor.

A beautiful barred owl. I watched him (and he watched me with much better vision) until it was too dark for me to see him or his shadow any more. I'm sure he had the capability if not the interest to continue watching me if he so chose. Doubt if he did though. I'm not as stunning an example of the human family as he is of the avian family.

He (or she - though to me the bird seems like a he) was still in our yard this morning - though I only saw him in flight. I hope he takes up residence. And I hope he's a "mouser" and not a "birder." But if he kills and eats another bird I won't blame him. As Peter told me years ago after some life and death animal event (and after he had seen The Lion King), "It's the circle of life dad." I guess he thought Disney was a better philosophical source than his dad. Who am I to argue with that?

An afternote - Since our barred owl is still around after two days, Kate and I named him Shakespeare (though if he is in fact a she I will promptly rename her "Kate." Warning - this is a fairly abstract bit of bird humor. A hearty handshake to anyone who gets it).

Stimulous Response in Pennsylvania

2009-08-04T06:48:00.014-05:00

I guess we stay pretty much the same. Kate, the kids and I made the long drive to Pennsylvania to see Kitty and Bob about 10 years ago. This week we did it again. On the way Kate got an urge to go back in time and stop at a Howard Johnson's restaurant for a plate of the fabulous (at least in our memory) HoJo Fried Clams. Just before we made our way on to the Pennsylvania Turnpike for the final leg of our long journey, we stopped for lunch and as we headed down the ramp there appeared the distinctive HoJo establishment. As it had 10 years earlier, it proved to be a mirage - a hotel and not a restaurant. But it reminded us that last time we had stopped at the adjacent Eat 'n Park restaurant for what proved to be an odd but memorable lunch. The Eat 'n Park was a mess. We needed to clean our booth before sitting down. Then one of the people in the booth behind ours complained loudly that the bun of his sandwich was moldy. Not an inspiring thing to hear when awaiting food. When an employee passed by with a silent vacuum trying to clean the floor Kate commented, "They must be making Crumb Cake." An instant later when a bug flew by she added, "and ShooFly Pie." That started a laugh-a-thon that made the rest of the trip shorter. So did we return to the Eat 'n Park? NO! When we discovered the HoJo mirage we went to the relatively unexciting Subway and Wendy's. We may respond similarly to the stimulous of the road in a similar fashion - but we are capable of learning.

On the trip out we (Kate, Peter and I) spent a wonderful evening with Nate and Katharine in Iowa City. We worked on evolving what I for me is an alternative approach to paella, using the Weber and a few secrets. Since Nate is a professional magician - I will not reveal the secrets we discovered.

Humans are way too interested in reasons. Sometimes it's best to just let magic be magic.

Our time in York has been great. The big event was Bob's 80th Birthday celebration. We had a wonderful Saturday evening with Bob and Kitty and the Bobby and Linda Bowers family.

The major celebration was a Sunday Brunch at the historic Accomac Inn on the Susquahanna River. It was kind of a formal affair, so I got to wear the Coveted Maroon Jacket in a social setting.

The kids (and Kate and I) got a chance to get reacquainted with their cousins.

After many years of hearing stories of the Bowers clan, it was great to get a chance to meet most of them.

And they us.

And after the party we got some informal time with Kate's sister Liza and her son Chris.

The big question is, on the long drive back on Wednesday, do we give the Eat 'n Park a try? I'd bet against it.

Part 2

We did have a great tour of Gettysburg. Though we had been there in the past, it was always sans guide. This time, with the help of our guide Gary, we got a much richer sense of the battle.

We also got a storehouse of facts, important in some cases, like the fact that the group with the highest percentage of casualties was the Minnesota First.

As you might imagine, we were more taken with the odd facts. The last Civil War widow died fairly recently. She was 18 when she married her 81 year old spouse. When he died, she married his grandson (from a previous marriage). As Gary said, "Odd, but not illegal."

We got a chance to see Kitty and Kate's long-time friend Ruth Craley (who now lives in Gettysburg). Ruth had just had her carport ceiling painted, hence the unusual angle of this photo.

We think Bob enjoyed the Gargoyle we took him as an 80th birthday present (Kate's friend Michel's dislike of it notwithstanding).

And I think he enjoyed the presence of the junior gargoyles as well. We sure did.

We also got to see our friends Max and Laura in Dayton, Ohio - after too many years of not seeing them. Lots of laughs with them.

And it's always a pleasure to spend time with the Seymours in Peoria. Kathy is a great chef,

and Tom a great somollier/bartender. But the food and drink are not nearly as good or as important as the company.

Kate and I celebrated our 27th anniversary as Tom and Kathy prepared for their 37th anniversary.

I got to experiment with Bower's style formal dress - though I didn't carry through and wear this dignified look out to dinner.

So, to sum up, 2700 miles is too much driving. But we survived and had fun on every step of the way. Lots of time together as a family - which is of great value. Lots of laughs. No tears. One broken camera (oops, it slipped - but a replacement was ordered this morning).

And no, we didn't stop at the Eat 'n Park on the way back.

Busily Wasting Time

2009-07-25T13:42:00.017-05:00

I've been terrible about putting my thoughts on cyber-paper lately. It's not that I haven't had any thoughts. I've written several blog entries in my head while on my bike, but I've failed to type them up when I got home. And this entry won't be too thought provoking either. Just a catch up on what's been going on.

Spring started with the annual pilgrimage to the cabin with "the boycz." All nine in attendance, and I even took home the coveted Maroon Jacket. Such a great time.

Then it was off to the Boundary Waters with Curt and the two Toms.

As you can see, the weather was anything but balmy.

but we did have one beautiful day, with a raging Johnson Falls thrown in for good measure.

Neither snow, nor ice, nor dips in a 41 degree lake, can keep this intrepid foursome from having a great time.

Memorial Day bird watching with Barny - and Dan and Francine this year - is always a treat. Apparently Barn and I have photographic dyslexia. We saw 65 species of birds, not 56.

Our friends Tom and Kathy joined us at the cabin for a great long weekend.

Floyd biked through Saint Paul. He hasn't lost his speed.

Kate and I got two new dogs - just kidding about that.

But we have gone on some nice bike rides around our fair city.

Linda and I - particularly Linda - have been busy trying to ensure that our sweetie of a mother is in a good situation.

Until Train Party we hadn't seen Peter since Moab. It was great to get the family together.

And last weekend, 75% of the Gang of Eight gathered at the cabin.

I haven't been idle. Not as busy as Barack Obama. But not idle.

Urban Bird Watching

2009-04-23T21:51:00.005-05:00

Kate was doing a little bird watching around the house tonight. The warblers are starting to come through. Goldfinch and woodpeckers too.

But, well-trained bird watcher that she is, she quickly deduced that in spite of the fact that we are within a mile of the geographic center of an urban area of two million people, the bird on our roof was in fact a wild turkey.

Kate was quick enough to get some photos so I could enjoy it too.

Amazing. We're staying home this weekend. Who needs to go to the cabin for a genuine nature experience?

Moab Marching Madness

2009-03-16T07:49:00.022-05:00

We've made our way west to Moab for a spring break. It's good to have the family together. We flew out Saturday night to Salt Lake. Our first big choice, at the Alamo counter, was whether we wanted an HHR or a G-Six. It turns out that Chevrolet makes a car called an HHR and Pontiac makes one cleverly named the G-Six (or perhaps "G-6" - I'm not really sure). I had never heard of the HHR (though I've known about the number 6 for a very long time). I asked what it was like and the friendly Alamo rep said "a milk truck on wheels." How could you pass that up? Makes me wonder why American car companies are in trouble! That description and a clever name like the HHR? We took it.

Our drive to Moab was beautiful. A fun trip through a mountain pass. A lunch in Price at "Los 2 Amigos" - Peter and I differed on whether the name was a good one. When we reached our condo - which is perfect for our needs - we were faced with our second choice. Where to hike first? It was 4 pm, so we make the short junket to Arches (skipping without hesitation the NCAA selection show, which illustrates how beautiful this place is). We walked "Park Avenue" - which was stunning.

Then took a hike to Utah's post card - Delicate Arch - to watch the sunset.

It's popular for a reason. It's really quite beautiful.

It's on to longer hikes and more vistas.

Monday - Island in the Sky. A day of long views and lots of short hikes.

Mesa Arch, with 100 miles of the Colorado River in the distance.

Upheaval Dome - salt coming up or a meteor? The Oleson named family members favor a meteor explanation. Ms. Morton-Peters finds the salt explanation more plausible.

This looks like an album cover. With Kate as the bass player who the band had to put in the photo.

Pretty amazing spot to have lunch.

Needles / Chesler Park / The Joint Trail

Tuesday was a long 11 mile hike through just an incredible area. Whereas the amazing hikes in Island in the Sky were looking down over broad expanses, our hike in Needles was lower in the canyons, with more immediacy. Round every corner (or more accurately in most cases, through, around and over every opening between rocks) were incredible sights to behold. Peter and I couldn't stop photographing.

For hour after hour we just followed the cairns to the vistas beyond.

Eventually we came over a gap in the rocks to Chesler Park, a "green space" provided by the desert planner, surrounded by Needles.

The "band" took another album cover photo.

Then it was on to the Joint Trail, an amazing section of the trail in very narrow cracks in some very large rocks.

An amazing day.

Arches / Devil's Garden

We spent Wednesday in Arches, mostly on the Devil's Garden primitive hike. Arches is more heavily travelled than Canyonlands, but still beautiful. It was a day of arch viewing, beginning at Double Arch,

and, at least for us, reaching its peak at Double O Arch.

Some of the hike was breathtakingly beautiful and plain old breathtaking at the same time, like the gentle stroll down to our lunch spot.

We have survived unscathed though. I think our biggest injury occurred yesterday. As a considerate family member and sometime snorer, I've taken to wearing Breath-Right Strips to bed - they seem to reduce my offensive snoring somewhat. Unfortunately, the removal of the strip from a sunburned nose took a layer of skin with it.

Along the way, I tried to horn into the band.

Peter invented the "Barkless Lounger."

and, as we were hiking to Navajo Arch, a pun contest ensued. The upset winner was Madeline - with the name for a Native American junk food snack, the "Navi Ho Ho". As a person who honors the pun, it is a gratifying moment to hear my three family members firing off puns one after the other. I know, as I always have, that my life has not been wasted.

Potash Road / Corona Arch / Center Cafe

We spent our last day in Moab driving out the Potash Road by the Colorado River to make the hike (a fairly short and reasonable one) to Corona Arch and Bowtie Arch. Early on the cliffs along the river are sheer and rugged, and attractive to climbers.

The river was cold, fast and beautiful.

We particularly loved Corona Arch. It was a beautiful day, and for much of our time there we had it mostly to ourselves.

Kate is the tiny blue dot beneath the arch. It's just a stunningly beautiful place. We finished our week with a couple of wonderful meals. The first was at the Center Cafe in Moab.

And finally, a great Mexican restaurant in Salt Lake City - the Red Iguana. Less elegant but lots of fun.

The trip was exceptional. We got along well (with just enough bickering between the kids to bring back memories). The places were great. A wonderful week.

Morning of Living Dangerously

2009-02-10T09:27:00.004-06:00

We're off to Moab, Utah tomorrow for a much anticipated hiking trip with the kids in Canyonlands and Arches. Watch this space for photos. When I awoke yesterday it was 5 below zero here. Since we are off to Utah next week, it's reasonable to assume that yesterday was the last really cold morning of my winter - so dammit I'm going to ride my bike. I'm not a particularly macho guy. No "man's man." But I do have a Y chromosome. And, though the conditions have been worse on my path this year than the three previous years, I really enjoy riding in the winter. So I wasn't going to miss this last cold ride. I remembered I had an 8:30 videoconference meeting, so I went into scramble mode. Forgot that the recycling needed to go out. Did that. Shorted Greta on her walk (she didn't complain - it was cold and she lacks a Y chromosome). I was cutting it a little close but I'd make it.

I didn't ride the previous day. Really cold and really windy. In fact, when I last rode Tuesday it was 34 and a little wet. Too wet, it turns out. My front derailleur was stuck on the middle chain ring and the rear stuck on the lowest gear I have. Perfect for riding up a steep hill. Not so good for the entire ride to work when time was of the essence. But "Bob Scoular" (the name I and some others use to personify The Scoular Company) needed me, so I did a quick maintenance job, getting the rear gear to the second lowest gear, and pressed on with now frozen fingers to my meeting. I upped my cadence, tried to be a bit more aerodynamic down the hills, and kept plugging away to do my corporate duty. I dramatically shortened my daily ablutions and scrambled through the front door of the office at 8:32. I rounded the corner in a harried state only to see my friend Jann, who was also a participant in the videoconference, working away at her desk. She informed me that at 8:18, while my legs were churning at 100 revolutions per minute in a ridiculously low gear, the meeting had been cancelled. The now freed up hour and my early arrival at the office gave me the opportunity to dash off a witty and sarcastic email to the Cancellers of the Meeting (one of whom is Scoular's version of the Chancellor of the Exchecquer) and put my work in good order for a guilt free vacation. And on the way home, after a day in the heated underground parking lot, my bike was once again in good order too.

And now for something completely different . . .

It occured to me the other day that the baby boomer generation is probably done having presidents. And the two we produced were Bill Clinton and George Bush. I find it hard to imagine two more different presidents. Pick any spectrum you want, and it seems to me that they would be on fairly opposite ends. Conservative / liberal. Likelihood to produce "great moments in presidential speeches." Moral / amoral. Need for the approval of others. On almost every level they are nearly opposite.

Their fundamental division perhaps is reflective of our somewhat polarized generation. A generation of protesters against "the man" and those who just wanted to be "the man." It seems to me that we were and probably still are a little too good at staking out our positions and not good enough at building bridges. Compromise for us, was "selling out." Flip-flopping. So we have failed to do what we should have to solve problems. Preferring to yell at each other across our own Grand Canyon (clearly, my mind drifts to the desert these days)

President Obama has tried to change that tone. Or at least I see it that way. I know some will say, with some justification, that the leftward direction he is trying to head the country is anything but leading from the middle. It is what he was elected to do. The result of these attempts so far seems to be lots of carping from Republicans on the right and even some from Democrats on the left. I hope he keeps trying. Because we need to realize that solving our problems will require give and take. And probably some sacrifice. And certainly consensus.

Madeline has just graduated from college, and is therefore no longer eligible to be covered under our health insurance. She has a minor medical condition which, while not serious, should be monitored. The result, she can't get Blue Cross or similar coverages. A rational economic decision by Blue Cross. So the default is Cobra coverage at $460 per month. Our family has the economic horsepower to deal with this. But it's come home to me as we have worked with Madeline to muddle through this that many families just can't afford this sort of thing. So they have no coverage. And when something goes wrong the results are disasterous for the individuals and on the health care system itself. It's a problem we have to solve. But it will have to be solved with compromise. Not with yelling at one another across a Grand Canyon.

Happy Holidays!!!

2009-01-01T08:29:00.032-06:00

Happy holidays to you and yours from Madeline, Kate, Peter and Stan. All is great with us here in Minnesota. Madeline and Peter grow more mature every day.

Maybe maturity is in the eyes of the beholder. But they are fun to be around, and Kate and I enjoy the breaks in the quiet and order of the empty nest when they come home for a visit (and the return to the quiet and order of the empty nest when they return to college).

Actually, they are maturing. Madeline, after a meteoric 11 semesters at the University of Wisconsin, has graduated!!! The teaching profession awaits (after a couple more weeks of student teaching).

Peter continues to do well at the University of Iowa. He's spent the last two summers in Alaska canning salmon. A great money earning adventure. The return of the rugged fisherman is always a highlight for Kate and me.

He'll be staying in Iowa City this summer to complete a couple of summer school classes which should enable him to add a marketing degree to his political science major. As the photo below of Madeline and Kate lecturing one another illustrates, lively discussions are easy for us to come by.

2008 was another year of weddings for us. These great events gave us several opportunities to get shined up, celebrate four great young couples and even do some dancing.

Kate has made lots and lots of dough in 2008 (as in bread dough - like most we are not immune to the recent economic downturn. But we eat well nonetheless).

Kate made a couple of trips to Pennsylvania, one to join in a celebration put on by Kitty and Bob. While there she had a chance to see family and friends.

I made two really fun trips to the BWCA this year in the spring and the fall. On our spring trip we were canoeing on a lake which had been frozen just a day before.

A family spring break trip to the shores of Alabama was tremendous. A long but laugh-filled drive to and from through M-I-S-S-I-P-P-I (ask Kate) and a relaxing week on the beach were a nice break from the northern cool.

We had lots of great get togethers with friends and family this year.

Our major holiday gift for the family was iPhones all around. So data is never far away! Need to find a restaurant? How about resolving a dispute over some arcane fact? We are there with the answers.

We've done lots of remodelling around the house this year. The house looks better than ever. We are ready for your visit.

All the best!!!

Stan, Kate, Madeline and Peter

Evening Rides

2008-12-05T09:50:00.010-06:00

I love riding my bike to and from work - even in the winter. Part of it, I suppose, is the macho joy of being able to say I ride along even in Minnesota's cold and windy winters. But the fact is that keeping warm is not really very hard. It's dark on my ride home, which makes for a slower and more careful ride. But particularly with our newly completed bridge, it's really quite beautiful. I have lots to be thankful for (see my previous posting). One small thing is my ride home.

Lately, the lights aren't always on on the bridge. You would think that that would be a negative, but oddly it isn't. They are on sporadically. And I think I notice and enjoy them more when they aren't guaranteed to be on. I'm sure there is a lesson there somewhere. But I'm often too chilly to figure out what it is.

A Decade

2008-11-25T12:34:00.003-06:00

Ten years ago today was a day I'll never forget. I awoke that day with a mysterious inability to control or support myself with my legs. Ultra-strange and quite scary. By the end of the day I had had an MRI and was admitted to the hospital. A massive dose of steriods had gone a long way towards relieving back pain I had been having for three months or so. The physical relief was offset by the knowledge that my 8th thoracic vertebrae had been eaten away by a tumor which was either a localized tumor called a plasmacytoma or a manifestation of a form of cancer called multiple myeloma which - though very treatable - is not normally curable.

Since that time, as I had been for the 46 years leading up to that time, I've been lucky (or, if you want to look at it that way, blessed). The tumor was a plasmacytoma and not myeloma. Treated with radiation and gone. In the past ten years of testing (other than one testing blip that turned out to be nothing) things have gone well. No reoccurance of cancer.

While I would never recommend flirting with cancer to anyone, in some very real ways being a cancer survivor is a very positive thing. Many of those things I may have believed intellectually I now know in a more fundamental way. The blessing that is each day. The perspective on the magnitude of a given problem. The joys of a happy marriage, children that you like, love and are proud of, great friends to share the experience of life with. In my case, I came to value and hope to emulate "heart-driven" people (though I probably will always remain more "head driven" than "heart driven" - if that makes sense). In so many ways having your "life flash before your eyes" changes your perspective on the world and your place in it. For the better.

I think I even laugh from a different place now. I love the ironic even more. In any event, I am so thankful for the decade since the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, 1998. 3,652 days, if my count if correct. Each a gift. There is so much for me to give thanks for.

Thanks.

The Wrong Questions - A Short "Stanifesto"

2008-10-31T13:52:00.006-05:00

Several weeks ago Kate and I were watching Joe Biden being interviewed by Tom Brokaw on Meet the Press. Tom Brokaw inquired of Biden, a practicing Roman Catholic, about the "simple" question of when life begins. Biden's gave, at least to my ears, a perfect answer to a question with no "perfect" answer. He began by saying that as a matter of faith, he accepts and believes the teaching of the Catholic church that life begins at conception. He then acknowledged that there are equally religious people of other faiths who believe differently. He then took the "wrong" question - when does life begin - and transformed it to the "right" question (for a politician, though perhaps not for a minister or a philosopher), which involves the right of a society to impose that view on all of its members. He pointed out that we are a pluralistic society, and at least purport to respect the rights of our citizens to have differing beliefs on matters of this kind.

Brokaw proceeded to again ask the wrong question - asserting that Biden had "voted for abortion rights". Again Biden responded with what for me was the perfect response - that he hadn't voted for abortion rights, he had voted against criminalizing abortion. That he had voted against telling every other American that they had to accept his religiously-based view. You can watch that portion of the interview on youtube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qc3_mATe3uY

Biden's answer caused a few things to fall into place for me.

First, I remembered reading Roe v. Wade in law school 32 years ago or so. The majority opinion, written by Harry Blackmun, was and is in my opinion a well-reasoned response to an almost impossibly difficult question, even if we as a society have been arguing about it since 1972. I think many people feel that Roe v. Wade "outlaws" abortion. At least as I read it, the opinion is really a balancing of the interests of the mother and the state. I'm willing to bet that less than 1% of Americans (probably way less) have read the opinion. I went back and reread it and I thought I'd excerpt a few passages. It's a little less lawyerly that most Supreme Court opinions - but it's still a Supreme Court opinion so it doesn't necessarily "flow" like a novel:

Texas urges that, apart from the Fourteenth Amendment, life begins at conception and is present throughout pregnancy, and that, therefore, the State has a compelling interest in protecting that life from and after conception. We need not resolve the difficult question of when life begins. When those trained in the respective disciplines of medicine, philosophy, and theology are unable to arrive at any consensus, the judiciary, at this point in the development of man's knowledge, is not in a position to speculate as to the answer. . . .

In view of all this, we do not agree that, by adopting one theory of life, Texas may override the rights of the pregnant woman that are at stake. We repeat, however, that the State does have an important and legitimate interest in preserving and protecting the health of the pregnant woman, whether she be a resident of the State or a nonresident who seeks medical consultation and treatment there, and that it has still another important and legitimate interest in protecting the potentiality of human life. These interests are separate and distinct. Each grows in substantiality as the woman approaches term and, at a point during pregnancy, each becomes "compelling."

Here's the bottom line of the opinion:

(a) For the stage prior to approximately the end of the first trimester, the abortion decision and its effectuation must be left to the medical judgment of the pregnant woman's attending physician.

(b) For the stage subsequent to approximately the end of the first trimester, the State, in promoting its interest in the health of the mother, may, if it chooses, regulate the abortion procedure in ways that are reasonably related to maternal health.

(c) For the stage subsequent to viability, the State in promoting its interest in the potentiality of human life may, if it chooses, regulate, and even proscribe, abortion except where it is necessary, in appropriate medical judgment, for the preservation of the life or health of the mother. This holding, we feel, is consistent with the relative weights of the respective interests involved, with the lessons and examples of medical and legal history, with the lenity of the common law, and with the demands of the profound problems of the present day. . .

The various justices used different constitutional analyses in reaching their balance of competing interests. But it set me to thinking about the Bill of Rights. It seems to me that the freedoms enumerated in those ten amendments are the fundamental "point of difference" we have as a country. Our freedoms of speech, religion, due process, assembly. The pluralistic idea that decisions are made after the free exchange of ideas. So we have elected to protect not only the right to salute the flag (easy to protect) but also the right to burn the flag in protest (much harder to protect - but more meaningful in terms of actually protecting the freedom itself). We have chosen constitutionally to protect our citizens from unlawful searches, even if it means that we may leave some criminals who are subjected to unlawful searches unpunished. These are the tradeoffs we have to make in order to protect the freedoms set forth in the Bill of Rights.

At least to me, these constitutional liberties are fundamental safeguards, critically important to what we are (or aspire to be) as a country. Though I'm not a "card carrying member of the ACLU", these are for me the "litmus test" issues.

So when I hear Barack Obama say "when an Arab American family is rounded up without due process, that threatens my civil liberties" I agree wholeheartedly. When I hear of politicians seeking to ban books, I disagree just as wholeheartedly - without regard to what the books say.

On taxes, on health care, even on Iraq, there are for me reasonable grounds for disagreement and we should encourage the free exchange of ideas. That free exchange of ideas is made vital because of the constitutional liberties contained in the Bill of Rights.

There is another side to the principle of pluralism that it seems to me we have lost our way on - the idea of a debate on the issues followed by attempts at solutions which involve compromise. Today politicians who change positions on almost any issue are branded "flip floppers." Rather than encouraging a fresh look at an issue, we discourage it. We are, or at least have been, in an era of politics which reminds me of power football. One party or another trying to ram ideas down the throat of the other. The worry lately has been that if the Democrats get to the point where they have 60 members of the Senate, they will run roughshod over the Republicans. Sadly, that concern appears to me to be legitimate.

Let's hope that all the talk about "reaching across the aisle" is more than just talk. That would be a change to believe in. For lots of reasons (including the way my knee jerks, and my preference for a "wealth spreader" over a "wealth vanisher"), I'll be voting for the Obama/Biden ticket next Tuesday. But for me, the single most important reason is my belief that Obama and Biden are much more interested in protecting our constitutional freedoms than McCain and Palin.

Back to the Woods

2008-09-23T16:53:00.010-05:00

Harry and I made our way to East Pike for our annual fall trip to the woods. And a great trip it was. We've been making our way to the BWCA in the fall since 1993. And since 2002 we've been going to the same lovely campsite on the east end of East Pike.

Lots of happy hours have been spent on this rock, splash cup in hand, watching the sun set in the west.

I have literally hundreds of photos taken from "the rock" - of the lake in all its moods. And in September there are many moods to northern Minnesota lakes. We've sat there wearing every bit of clothes we brought. And on other warmer years we've been able to dive right into the lake. This year was somewhere in between.

The fishing was good - and that is a fun part of our trip. And fishing provided me with an "Einstein" moment - one where relativity is made clear. I had caught the fish on the left, which was well into the "keeper" category. I was happy to have caught a fish which could turn a soup into Bass Stew. Then I caught the fish on the right. The smaller fish is now a believer in relativity as well. In one instant, she went from the main ingredient in Bass Stew to being a smallmouth plying the amazing waters of East Pike.

But mostly it's fun paddling the lake, laughing about things, sometimes talking about life. A tradition that will go on as long as we do, I'm sure.

Circles of Friends

2008-08-29T18:31:00.009-05:00

Today was the first day of idleness I feel like I’ve had for quite a while. A "did nothing and rested afterwards" day. Our first weekend at the cabin since July 11th. That was a great weekend of fun and friendship at our cabin with the “Gang of Eight” – as Phil walked away with the inaugural Cranberry Cup Presented by Pimms (and Lisa and Ray), edging out Kate and Tom. As has become our norm – Kate was behind amazing meals at every turn. A Salad Nicoise with Tuna Steaks still remains a tasty memory (and is probably still visible around my midsection). Or perhaps it’s the pancakes. Or the tenderloin.

Then it was on to the completion of the basement remodeling and return of things to their rightful place at the house – just in time for Jon and Megan Eddy’s wedding. A Friday paella dinner at our house with the Train Party gang and a brunch the next morning were great fun. Peter had returned home from his summer canning salmon in Alaska, and Madeline was home for a little over a week.

Again, food and fun were everywhere. At the wedding reception we got a chance to don our dancing shoes.

As soon as the Train Party gang left for their respective homes, Kate’s mother Kitty and her buddy Bob arrived for a week. Shockingly, more amazing meals and fun ensued. Kitty needed some work on her fajita folding technique, but had no trouble discerning the quality of the food.

When Kitty and Bob made their way back to Pennsylvania, it was time to load up the trailer and move Peter back to Iowa City and his first apartment. Kate did make a gourmet sandwich to take with us – but otherwise left us to fend for ourselves on the food front. Just as well. The month of consumptive activity had apparently raised the amount of uric acid in my blood – leading to a bout with the “The Gout” – a painful left big toe was the price I had to pay for the joys of July and August. A small price to pay.

When I returned to the Twin Cities, Linda and Wood were only a day behind. A wedding of our good friends Tom and Rosemary’s daughter Allyson on Saturday. And then on the the Great Minnesota Get Together on Sunday.

It’s been a great and busy summer. But I must say a day where starting the fire for the sauna is my most strenuous activity has been a welcome change.

Train Party 2008

2008-07-14T12:28:00.001-05:00

Another tremendous Train Party is now in the books. For my money, it was a great one (honestly the 37th great one - so perhaps I should say a REALLY great one).

As always, the Bucks, Staniforths and Eddys provided get togethers that were marvelous and memorable. Certainly, one amazing highlight was the presence of two "3rd generation" Plasticvillians - Brynn and Mason.

Those two are beyond cute, and it was just heartwarming to see them continue the TP with a new generation.

Mason already is displaying some of his grandfather's gymnastics skills, and what fun it is to have and beer and talk politics with Brynn and her grandfather.

I suppose no description of a Train Party would be complete without an acknowledgement of the bocce ball champions.

Of course, they were the first champions to be roundly booed during the championship game. There is not a question in anyone's mind who should proudly assume the mantle of

THE PEOPLES' CHAMPIONS

In a move that surprised no one, Hizzoner the mayor skeedaddled for the border - unwilling to face the populous. The biggest thing missing for me was Peter (Oleson). We talked to him on the way home. He sounded great - for the last ten days he's been working 16 hours a day, so sounding great is a bit of an accomplishment. He told us that on one of yesterday's tides they received and processed 800,000 pounds of salmon. Hope that a few pounds comes home in smoked form as a hors de ouvres for the Jon and Megan wedding preparty!! For those who aren't dining at the Lex - plan on a party which we hope will rival those just completed on Friday, August 8th!

Thanks so much to all for a wonderful time. It adds immeasurably to the richness of my life.

Reece and Andrea's Wedding

2008-06-18T21:08:00.009-05:00

Kate, Madeline and I went to the wedding of my nephew Reece and his now wife Andrea. A truly great event, celebrating a great couple. Wood and Linda enjoyed themselves immensely - and why not? The floods, though scary, had little effect on the joy of the event - and what an event it was.

My mom looked cute "as a bug's ear" - between her grandson and granddaughter.

And between her daughter and one of her sons.

The Kingfish and his lieutenants were in fine fettle.

It was great to see Claire, especially since she is off to India today.

And the night was danced away!

A great time was had by all.

PIkers!

2008-05-28T09:21:00.000-05:00

Mssrs. Seymour, Green, Lack and Oleson have just returned from a great canoe trip to East Pike - a Boundary Waters lake that is near and dear to my heart, and to Wein's - it being just a mile or so away from McFarland Lake, where Wein's grandfather built a cabin in the '30's.

As we left Saint Paul for the northland, we thought we were embarking on a bit of a fishing contest. If it was a fishing contest, it was similar to an early season basketball game between a powerhouse and a Division III team.

Curt caught more fish than the rest of the group combined, and not by a narrow margin. Stan won the "Most Impressive Whitefish, All Things Considererd" contest. Seymour came in second in the "Most Impressive Northern Released" contest. Wein won the "Most Impressive Shore Fisherman" contest - with a near catch of a nice northern from a rocky shore. But Curt was king. The man can fish just as good as he wants.

Mr. Green established his bona fides as a woodsman with the most stunning display of firewood location and chopping and splitting that I have seen in my nearly thirty years of trips to the Boundary Waters. He and Mr. Seymour produced what seemed to be cords of finely split wood which allowed us to enjoy evening fires. This was particularly nice, since last year we had been unable to have camp fires due to a fire ban.
This meant that the rest of us were unaware of this amazing Bunyanesque skill. If Barny is the "king of the onion" - and he is - Wein is the Hatchet Man.

The area was, as always, beautiful. This is one of the great places for feeling close to nature.

The weather was more variable than I have ever seen it. Sun would be followed by rain then more sun, and even a little rain/snow/hail mix.

The wood produced by Mr. Green and Mr. Seymour, combined with the patented "Stan Oleson Maxi Pack" technique which allows for massive provisions, allowed us to dine like kings and snack like large men. With a sommolier like J. Thomas Seymour, the libations were beyond unbelievable. A fish stew Curt and I made of three large bass snagged from East Pike, some potatoes, onions, portobello mushrooms, and various other bulky but tasty ingredients stands out in my memory. The steaks were great, Curt's pan fried northern and smallmouth were, if anything, even better. The final breakfast fare was a giant pork chop - again with portobellos and onions. It's a dish that I am still refining. When the Hatchet Man (who likes meat cooked more fully than I do) is along, I have now resolved to grill the chops over the fire he provides and cook the mushroom sauce separately. This will allow for better "a la carte" presentation of the meat.

As this food preparation example illustrates, trips to the BWCA invariably involve some problem solving. This year, Curt helped ensure that was the case. Due to Curt's newly developed bull moose canoe entry method, he and Wein failed to "mount up" properly for an evening fishing junket (while Mr. Seymour and I elected to lounge around camp sipping on a "splash" and taking in the scenery from terra firma). The result - a quick dip in a lake that was covered with ice three days before - went beyond bracing. At least the solution was obvious. Less obvious was the solution to our problem on the "dismount." It was then that the car door locked with the keys on the front seat and in a backpack in the rear of the car (a safety feature that we all agree Acura could dispense with), we found ourselves 17 miles up a gravel road to nowhere (though an amazing chunk of nowhere) and 35 miles from cell phone service. At this point Curt's preternatural skills kicked in. He fired a pheromone (or perhaps it was a Farrah moan) and summoned two nice women who provided transport and phone cards and other necessities in aid of Curt's location of Bud the Locksmith and Storyteller, who arrived on the scene a hour or so later. Like magic, in 46 minutes Bud had the door opened (with liberal amounts of "help" from the assembled laughing masses). At this moment the 2 a.m. return to Saint Paul dampens the humor just a bit, but I think it will be a rich source of humor for years to come.

A great trip. Planning and pondering for next year has already begun.

The Great North

2008-04-25T17:46:00.002-05:00

Kate and I are back at the cabin, arriving last night – six months after our last visit. It’s always fun to return after the winter, even if it’s raining and cool. But I always wonder as we approach if there will be trouble. A tree across the lane? A burst pipe? When we got here this year the door to the cabin was open. Not a good indicator of things to come. But in this case an inaccurate harbinger of trouble. The cabin was clean as a whistle. Not even the sign of a mouse. I had left a fire prepared in the woodstove. So it was burning away almost immediately. The pump started producing water with a minimum of effort. The water system filled quickly. Within 30 minutes we had running water, clocks with accurate time, music playing quietly. My biggest problem in life was the lack of ice cubes for a cocktail of my choice. So I settled for a really nice glass of wine. It was and is nice to be back.

Today has provided more iffy weather. But without leaving the cabin I’ve seen a bald eagle twice. Once on the tree in front of our cabin - which required a photo. Loons were here to greet us last night. A pileated woodpecker has been making his dinosaur-like call all day. And I saw a little bird called a brown creeper between sauna sessions this afternoon. It’s hard to describe what a pleasure it is to be sitting outside in a light rain and 44 degrees, steaming away from the residual heat of the sauna, watching a tiny little bird that you see only every couple of years climb a tree a few feet away. But at least for me it’s a wonderful thing.

Kate is fighting a cold. She’s reading away. I’ve finished one book today and look forward to starting on the next in a few minutes. Greta has blown out her right rear knee so long walks, a staple of our existence here, are pretty much out of the question (she goes “under the knife” on Monday). It looks like one of those “did nothing and rested afterward” days. I can ask for nothing more. By the way, our supply of ice cubes is now more than adequate. Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh.

Ironic Harbinger

2008-04-07T11:57:00.002-05:00

I decided two years ago to make the red-winged blackbird my official harbinger of spring. Today as I was biking to work I heard my first call of the red-winged blackbird. At that very moment it was snowing pretty hard and I was biking into a ten mile an hour headwind. It just didn't seem very springlike.

I realize that I choose to live here in Minnesota, and I am usually very reluctant to complain about the length of winter. But I am ready for warmer weather and the advent of spring. With blackbirds and without snow.

Coming Soon . . .

2008-04-05T17:40:00.005-05:00

To strip malls everywhere, it's the -

"It's Not Just Good, It's Fu Xing Good!"®

They serve only drinks made with their signature vodka.

(I about drove off the road I was laughing so hard. And, this very establishment is located on Rice Street in Saint Paul - really).

The Stars Are In Alabama

2008-03-17T07:47:00.012-05:00

Road trips haven't been our family's norm. But this year we decided that logistically it just made sense. So we loaded up the rented van and headed to what is euphemistically referred to as the "Redneck Rivera." Because of our inexperience, we fell prey to the "bring it along - we've got a van" mentality. It did bring back some memories to look back and see the kids in the back of the van.

Our "new" car is a '99 Blazer. So the Chevy Uplander rental van was a nice upgrade. While the drive was a long one - we had the ability to play music from our iPods without those goofy fake radio transmitters that never work. And, though I was unable to figure it out immediately, there is even a DVD player for the kiddies in the back.

We pushed hard the first day, but still didn't get to Memphis until 9:30. It was the picture in my head to get to Memphis (it just sounded more interesting to me than Cape Girardeau, Missouri). I was letting go of the idea, but Kate had the drive to drive on. I was so glad. We went on for a late night dinner at Rendevous Ribs. Made it there just before 11, as the place was winding down. But had some great ribs, and really enjoyed the atmosphere.

We even wandered Beale Street for a while. Amazingly, we were caught in a very short hailstorm. Then it was off for a quick rest (and a lecture to me about snoring) and on through Mississippi.

We were traveling in a loose tandem with our friends the Grays (who were about 90 minutes behind us aiming for the same destination). Kate did one of the funniest cell phone calls I've ever heard from M-I-S-S-I-P-P-I to alert the Gray's of the local driving style - which features, among other quirks, a quick cut in front of a passed car within 5 feet of their bumper.

We picked this destination mostly because it was the closest ocean to Minnesota. But it's really beautiful. And our beach house is really something!

O.K. - that's not our beach house. But ours is really nice. The beach is a beautiful white sand beach. The four of us took a long hike to the end of the spit of land we are on. For the first half mile or so there were beach houses and lots of people (the pictured house is the last one). But for a couple of miles thereafter, there is nothing but beaches and dunes until you come to Fort Morgan. And, as is so often the case, it really just takes a small amount of effort to leave the crowd behind (the crowd isn't that big in the first place - though where we would toss a Frisbee, they toss a football - "Roll Tide" seems to be a good icebreaking opening line).

Such a nice time sharing laughs with our family, as we passed stranded jellyfish

and surfed our way along the beach.

Just a great family time. I'm not even dreading the drive back. . . yet.

________________________

There has been a strong wind blowing the last couple of days. Strong enough that we've taken our beach walks headed into the wind first. Today (Tuesday) started cloudy, but turned to a beautiful, bright sunny day. We've just been taking it easy. Reading a book in the sun. Walks. A beer here and there. I've taught Peter to play cribbage - and so we've had several games.

Last night we had dinner at the house being rented by our friends the Grays. It's five miles up the road. A quiet road, but nevertheless I decided to take it easy and limit myself to one glass of wine. I know you are thinking, "Hey, it's a vacation. Loosen up!" But I am strict about those things. Here's a photo of Kay and Reechow pouring my glass of wine.

You have to have principles!

_______________________

There is a reason I like the ocean so much. Change is so palpable here. The tides go in and out. The wind and water move the sand around with a force that is both constant and inexorable. What yesterday afternoon was this

this morning is this

The water is 200 feet closer to the cabin and there is a storm on its way. I'm looking forward to its arrival.

I like to go to the ocean to remind myself of the constant change that surrounds me. Books like Beak of the Finch and just living have taught me intellectually that change and evolution are always happening. They are more apparent when they are directional over long periods of time (for example, apes to humans - sorry Mike Huckabee). Some changes we label as good, some bad. And some are good and bad. But most just are. I need these reminders.

One of the huge challenges of growing older is that it seems harder to accept change gracefully. Probably it is harder. It's so easy to fall into the pattern of saying "I remember when" romanticizing the "good old days."

It's been suggested to me that I am a "cheerleader" for globalization - lauding the smaller world we now live in. Perhaps that is somewhat true. But I think, or at least hope, that what I've done is accept the change inherent in the communication revolution we have all experienced over the last decade or so. Accept it or not, it's there and it's real. Better to accept it and take advantage of what it offers.

I think my understanding of that particular change happened most powerfully for me when I worked at the expedition. I was writing an electronic newsletter to be sent to the 4,000 or so people who were following the expedition's preparations. I read and reread the email and then hit the "send" button - wondering if anyone would be interested. In five minutes I had a response (several in fact). But the one that hit me was from a woman sitting at the South Pole station. I exchanged several emails with her over the course of the day - she in probably the most remote place in the world from my little office in Minneapolis.

On a different note, we went out to dinner last night. Our skills in restaurant selection need some work. We left one restaurant since we didn't want to sit through a 45 minute wait, only to drive to another restaurant with a less enticing menu 15 miles further away which also had a 45 minute wait. I happened to catch a photo of Kate at just the instant we were finally called to our table.

Now there is a woman who knows how to accept change.

________________________

A great trip!

And it's "back to reality."

The Sauna Chronicles

2008-03-08T13:09:00.008-06:00

When I'm not thinking of politics (see below) or working diligently, I'm pondering the sauna. Here's a quick tour:

Optimism

2008-02-27T10:31:00.005-06:00

As I was riding to work Wednesday morning I heard the lovely call of a cardinal, the sun was shining brightly and even delivering some heat, and I saw my first "urban" bald eagle of the season. I felt a flush of bliss as the long winter was turning to spring (admittedly a short term sensation, since the sun soon went behind a cloud and a 15 mph breeze hit me in the face). However short lived, this surge of optimism made me think of . . . politics.

I've been closely following the major party nomination process (somewhat proudly, just like like Michelle Obama) and it seems to me that each of the three remaining candidates will at least try to lead us in a better direction (talk about damning with faint praise. Apologies to Mike Huckabee, but I think there is general agreement that he cannot win the Republican nomination since he needs to win something like 137% of the remaining delegates. Plus, one litmus test issue for me is a basic belief in the scientific fact of evolution - even if that belief is overlaid with religious beliefs that appear inconsistent with evolution. So I'm calling it three remaining candidates).

I've listened to the last two Obama/Clinton debates. Even they admit that their substantive positions on most issues are very similar. It's almost painful to listen to sixteen minutes of debate about minor health care position differences when you consider that either's position will require a pretty radical change in health care delivery in the U.S. - which says to me that if the change happens there will be plenty of compromises and the differences between Obama and Clinton will have long since ceased to be very relevant.

It seems to me that the essential question in deciding who to support is one of optimism. Obama speaks of a movement, of a "yes we can" coalition that brings to my mind the anti-war movement of my youth. Clinton chides his approach, joking that Obama awaits the moment when the "skies will part, a bright light will come from heaven, and we will all work together."

Parts of me sympathize with both positions. Life does teach you that the number of times when that bright light comes down and we all work together for a common good are few and far between. In some ways that is why I'm much less "cause" oriented than I was when I was younger. I've concluded that I will most likely change the world in a small way, one positive interaction after another, day after day, year after year. But presidents of countries have a real chance to make change that isn't small or incremental. The more interesting point to me, made by Obama, is that governmental change of the type they are discussing is facilitated by and probably requires active involvement by "the people." So coalitions and "yes we can" movements of inspired people really do matter.

Peter and I had a number of interesting discussions in the run up to the Iowa caucus about Obama. We agreed he was and is an inspiring speaker. Oddly, it was me - the old guy - who was saying how important that ability to inspire is to leadership. I was pleased and somewhat surprised that Peter was a Joe Biden supporter (clearly an "old fart's" candidate), based on what Peter perceived as Biden's better thought out substantive positions.

The more I listen to Obama, the more willing I have become to join "the movement." For me it's more of a toe in the water than a dive into the lake. I think Obama has a much greater chance of effecting the change I would like to see than the more polarizing Clinton. There is always the risk that any politician will try to be all things to all people. Or will lead based on polls rather than principles (one of the things I really like about McCain is that he appears to be principled. Of course, the same argument can be made about our current president. It does matter which way the knee jerks).

Ultimately it seems to me that optimism is the better approach. Of course, I am hard wired as a "glass half full" guy. But I do believe that change can be for the better. And that it's hard work. So I find myself knee deep in Barack Bay of Lake Obama. The water is clear and the sun is shining from the heavens.

Systems

2008-01-20T12:35:00.000-06:00

I've been thinking about systems alot lately. It seems to me that in so many parts of our lives we ignore the fact that things are interrelated, often to our peril. Favoring the bad right knee soon creates a sore left hip. A nice morning walk starts the day well, leading to a better reaction when something goes wrong later in the day. Things are connected, creating spirals which are positive or negative. Ripples and waves.

Systems seem to me to be if anything even more important in things political and economic, and more commonly ignored. We subsidize ethanol made from corn, and then are shocked when the increased demand for corn has the effect of raising food prices. We start a war to "liberate" Iraq while giving scant attention to the collateral effects this action is likely to have around the world. Or, once started, politicians advocate immediate unilateral withdrawal from Iraq without much regard for the effects on the system. I've been constantly aggravated during this election season by politicians of all stripes positing simple answers to complex questions.

But, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, the politicians probably aren't the stupid ones. They know that most voters really want to hear the "simple" solutions. Simple causes.

On one level, the events of 9/11 were caused by al-Qaeda. That's the simple statement. But globalization had a role. And American policies. And probably bin Laden's parents. And Islamic fundamentalism. Do we solve the problem by capturing and punising al-Qaeda or by trying our best to get at the root causes of the problem?

The answer probably should be that we do our best to do both. It's relatively simple to pass legislation like the Patriot Act. We give the government more power to fight terrorism, but erode the very rights that make the U.S. unique.

A politician who tries to tell a complex story is probably doomed to failure. And this rant is probably not as logical and buttoned up as I would like. It's complicated stuff. I simply can't simplify it.

Happy New Year!!!!!!! (In Pictures)

2007-12-28T12:29:00.000-06:00

All the best from Stan, Kate, Madeline and Peter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I'll add a few hundred words. But I hope to let the photos from this past year do most of the talking.

I know I write that it was a great year every year. And every year it's true. I'll let you know if it isn't.

A few ground rules. I promise not to emphasize the stratospheric GPAs that the kids achieved this past semester (can you say "Dean's List?"). Or how nice the sauna I just finished building is. Or how hard it is to maintain a reasonable weight when you live in the same house with Chef Kate. You'll have to talk to me for at least three minutes before those subjects will be raised - and they will NOT be raised in this holiday missive.

It was a great year for really big fish (especially for the males in the family).

Stan's fish was caught in the BWCA with a great group of friends (and wily fishermen). Somehow, even with this fish Stan was able to place LAST in the fishing contest.

Peter's fish were caught by professionals - and processed by him during his summer at the Yardarm fish cannery in Naknek, Alaska. A great summer job - combining adventure, independence and the always important financial remuneration.

It was great to have him back home, though.

Just in time for one of the excellent Train Party weddings we attended during the last twelve months (and two days).

We shine up pretty well as a family. In the photo above Peter is wearing my wedding suit. Soon it won't fit him either.

Somewhere in there we found time for spring break trips to the Pacific Northwest with each of the kids.

Portland with Peter. Then we "Slept in Seattle" with Madeline.

(as guests of our friends Fred and Mary - Suckfish Tours will never die!)

The Olympic Peninsula was great. Kate and Madeline decided I was a complete loser for taking photos - but I'm hoping this "card" will redeem that habit to some degree.

We also found time to have several great get togethers with friends.

And we saw our mothers - if not as often as we would have liked.

It was a lousy year for bridges in the Twin Cities.

I came upon the fallen bridge (which I previously biked under twice each working day) about 5 minutes after it collapsed. But the community worked through it very well.

This might be a good place to mention that I'm happily toiling away at The Scoular Company - now in my third year. Kate has completed thirty-three years at the AG's office. Suffice it to say that I will not pass her longevity record.

The kids came home for Thanksgiving - and there was lots to be thankful for. And the thanks were sincere, if offered in a silly way.

It's hard to say that one thing or another was the "best" part of the year. But if I had to rate things, I'd say that the trip that Kate and I took to Paris to celebrate our 25th anniversary was a huge highlight. There is no greater city. And no better companion than Kate. I have visions of longer and longer trips to Paris as the years pass. Hope we can make those visions a reality.

If you scroll down the page you will come to a more complete description of our trip.

Madeline gave me a Berlitz French language DVD for Christmas. I'll probably still make a mess of French. But the point is when I'm trying to improve my French, I can dream of our next trip there. I loved the gargoyles from Notre Dame.

So I brought one to Saint Paul.

Love to you all. And peace.

Peter, Madeline, Kate & Stan

Possums, Perspiration and Parties

2007-12-23T08:56:00.000-06:00

I really should get going on our official holiday blogcard. And I will. Peter and Madeline are home for the holidays. The presents are purchased (if not wrapped). But yesterday was visually interesting. Beautiful snow in the morning. In the afternoon Madeline spotted an apparently confused opposum in our yard, ambling away at his or her glacial pace.

The sauna that I have spent much of the last month building is, except for a few fine tuning details, completed. We had our first family sauna, a proper christening of the space.

We fit though, unlike the high-capacity cabin sauna, four people is about the max. But I must say humbly that I did a good job converting a basement closet into a great space. Now we just have to remodel the rest of the basement and figure out where to put the things that were in the closet.

We capped the evening at a party hosted by our friends Don and Phil in their 29th floor condo in downtown Minnepolis. It was like living in a real city, and the view is just breathtaking. I spent less time in witty and urbane conversation than I probably should. I just couldn't stop gazing out the window. A great time.

Paris

2007-11-05T02:13:00.001-06:00

It's always a bit of a challenge travelling internationally. We began our trip excited and in high spirits.

By the time we made it with our stuff to the apartment, it was a little different story.

But if you can't find energy in this great city, something is wrong. Kate and I recovered by walking around exploring old parts and new of this great city. It was fun to watch Kate recover a language - getting the rhythm of it back. Picking up on the informal aspects. All day and especially at dinner - a great meal we more or less stumbled into on a quiet Sunday night - she was listening to conversations surrounding us for content. For me they were just lovely background to a beautiful place. I was surprised when the very French looking couple by the wall needed the waiter who spoke Italian. Not Kate. When I was signing the Visa receipt while remarking that I would put my "John Hancock" here (hey, it was a little different format), our waitress began calling me John Travolta. I think the Euro gained a bit more on the dollar as I broke into my Saturday Night Fever moves.

So far we've built and decimated our wine, bread and cheese inventory only once.

But when Kate awakes, we will be off to consume the sights and sounds and smells of Paris. It's a place that replenishes me like the Boundary Waters does, but a completely different way. In the BWCA I'm always taken by what a beautiful world this is, and a little struck by how humans in our many influences on it don't really help things. At least for me, Paris shows that sometimes we really do add beauty and not take it away. It's nice to be reminded.

________________________________

Paris has substance, but it's about style. There are so many things that demand to be really seen. A coffee and a pastry or a dessert aren't just thrown on the table, they are presented.

It's the greatest people watching city in the world, because of the profusion of individual styles. Some of it is probably an attempt to project an illusion. Some not. Some work, some don't.

But it calls out to be looked at carefully. Although we've wandered all over Paris, this is a city that tries to slow you down. That says "take a careful look." Though there were plenty of people at the Musee d'Orsay yesterday running from one amazing painting to the next snapping digital photos, more were actually experiencing each painting. Because these artists were so good that even I could catch a glimpse of what they saw. Renoir turns this

into a woman following her daughter down a hillside. Or maybe he turns a woman following her daughter down a hillside into this. Either way, it's a moment captured forever. Yesterday the painting that got to me most was this VanGogh.

It suggests, and rewards, a closer look.

I'm convinced that I will always see the Big Dipper a little bit through Van Gogh's eyes. But mostly more carefully through my own. So I walk around slack jawed at all I'm seeing (o.k., I always walk around slack jawed. But I am so enjoying the sensory overload). And it's so great to share it with Kate. After 25 years it's still so much fun to share things. She has taught me so much. Her sense of the importance of presentation in food qualifies her as part French (also, the fact that she speaks the language). Perhaps I've taught her a bit about how to look through the lens of a camera. We fill gaps, and help one another see and grow.

And so we're off for another day of exploring Paris. Stiff in body, but ready to see what's there.

______________________________

There is a balance we all must strike between the past, present and future. Between being like people at a high school reunion ("remember the time when. . .") and kids ("when I grow up I'm gonna . . ."). Buddhists would say, and I would agree, that the present moment is the only moment. But that present has to respect the past and the future. As we get older it's ever easier to speak fondly of the "good old days." One of the things I love about the Train Party group is that, although we have a vast shared history, we never get together to relive that history. We get together to discuss, to experience, to laugh, to live in the present.

Paris has made me think about the past, present and future balance a lot this week. Yesterday we were in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Built from 1130 A.D. to 1500 A.D. But look at the altar in the middle.

Modern. Almost futuristic. And in one of the most famous, historic cathedrals in the world. Or, obviously, the Louvre.

At least to me, it's saying "make these things fit together." Try to get the whole of the past, the present and the future to fit together in one piece. A challenge. But one that is worth taking.

________________________

Speaking of styles that work and those that don't -

I was underwhelmed by this woman with some sort of large rodent around her neck in a cafe where Kate and I were having a glass of wine in preparation for heading to the Polidor for a nice meal (and more wine)

I know that I could have utilized a flash and gotten better resolution. But I'm trying to be discrete. Part of me was tempted to go so far as taking a "BarnCam" shot. But discretion reigned. Trust me, this was not a style success.

For the first time in my trips to Paris, the Orangarie was open. In addition to a wonderful collection from Renoir, Cezanne and others, we discovered the works of Chaim Soutine. Great stuff.

But the most amazing were the two large rooms, each of which houses four large water lilly paintings by Monet. An incredible place.

I've had so much stimulus over these last few days that I feel like I need to enroll in a "Head Stop" program. And there is no football on television over here (at least as far as I know).

___________________________

As our time in Paris has stretched toward its end, the one disappointment up until today was our failure to connect with our friend Chris. Although we didn't get as much time with Chris as we would have liked, we did connect up.

A great friend. Musician. Yoga teacher. But mostly for us, a great guy. It would have been very sad to have missed him. But our inability to reach his mobile phone combined with his computer being in for "reparations" made this apparently simple task difficult for the rubes from Minnesota. But things were resolved. Now when we leave we will have missed a few things - but really just reasons to return. But missing Chris would have been different. A squandered opportunity, not just a missed opportunity. Because even though this is the most beautiful city in the world, it's still the relationships that count. Kate and I were here to celebrate 25 years of wedded bliss. But we don't get many chances to see Chris. Too short a time, but at least we got together for a few laughs and a "pot au feu."

We spent the morning with the gargoyles at Notre Dame.

Not an important reunion, but a good one nonetheless. All in all, a great day.

________________________

It's always hard to leave this most beautiful of cities. You want one more look here. And there.

One more meal. One more painting.

We arrived eight days ago, tired and bedraggled from a long trip.

We leave saturated with experience, though still wanting more. A few things missed, saved for next time. Many things that will be missed. But happy to have had another chance to spend time here.

_________________________________

A little postscript to our trip. Maybe in a way you really can't go home again. In any event, eight days after physically returning from France, my body seems to be suspended somewhere around Nova Scotia. Every morning at 4 or 5 my eyes open and I'm awake. Not Paris time, but not Saint Paul time either. Even though I was in a foreign speaking land where it would seem I should have felt less at home, I really felt at home in Paris. As I do in Saint Paul. But I can't seem to get my body to come all the way back to Minnesota. Perhaps that's just a sign of a great trip. Or a sign of an old body that can't adjust to change. So I get up and read the paper.

Time Marches On

2007-09-12T22:40:00.001-05:00

With each passing year it seems that I'm getting further and further from moving at the speed of light. If I understand it right Einstein figured out that as your speed nears the speed of light time slows down (I realize it's really relative time that slows down and so on - but I'm trying to make a point here, not expound on relativity).

When I was a kid, my three month summer vacation seemed an eternity. The elapsed time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was, by my reckoning, about 40 years.

But things seem to be accelerating. I know that the time between this

and this

was about 19 years and 4 months. It felt like 19 months and 4 days.

It seems like only yesterday Barny and I were doing our annual Memorial Day bird count - checking up on the spring migration. And now we've already done the much less pleasurable fall migration - getting the kids to their college homes for the year. It did seem like time slowed down a bit for the Madison migration

which felt like it took days. Oddly, the Iowa City migratory experience was made easier by less "stuff" and a larger workforce.

It feels like the gear was barely dry from our spring boundary waters trip

when it was loaded again for the just concluded fall trip with Harry.

I guess the fact is that time flies like an arrow (but fruit flies like a banana).

Salmon Training Sir!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-07-13T10:46:00.000-05:00

For the past three weeks (and for the next two or three), Peter has been in Naknek, Alaska working at a salmon canning factory. Over that time the highlight of my day has often been the emails he has been sending along, describing the place, the people, the fish, the work, the experience.

Any parent (or at least this one) wants their child to expand their boundaries. To try new things. To experience adventure. To have a crappy job at least once (if only to provide the frame of reference for the jobs to come - which certainly will seem crappy some of the time). To boldly go where they have not gone before (even if lots of others have gone that way). Perhaps the sort of experience that in ages past was provided by a two year "hitch" in the military.

But in this day and age of unilateral "liberation" of Iraq and other related craziness, I can't imagine very many parents (at least not this one) who want their child to join the military. It occurs to me that Peter's summer canning salmon is providing him with most of the good things that I would hope for in such an experience. A very diverse group of co-workers to get along with. Adventure in a distant place. Long days of hard work. Self-reliance (with food and a bed provided). A paycheck.

All in all, I agree with Peter that it beats Famous Footwear. I wonder if I get a discount on canned salmon?

Listening

2007-07-04T07:50:00.000-05:00

Most of us aren't very good listeners. I know I'm not. I've been trying, without a great deal of success, to improve my listening skills. I like to tell stories and engage in wordplay. As a result, when I listen at all I often listen with too much emphasis on finding the joke. That is such a big part of me that I probably won't change it dramatically. But I do think I can improve my listening skills.

Yesterday I was talking with a friend who I will call Charlie (that's because his name is Charlie). I asked him if his daughters were joining him at his cabin this weekend, to which he replied that they were both out of the country. This gave me the narrow opening I needed to launch into a discussion of - Peter's experiences in Alaska, where he is working at a salmon canning factory. I'd stood up to go before I realized I hadn't really listened, hadn't followed up on Charlie's comment about his daughters. It turns out one is working as a law clerk in Hong Kong, and the other, a middle to long distance runner, is running in a series of meets in Europe and from there heads to Rio to run in the Pan Am games. Of course this isn't nearly as interesting as Peter working in Alaska, but at least I followed up.

The thing that really got me thinking about listening was not conversations like my conversation with Charlie, it was discussions about politics and issues of the day with my Train Party friends. If there is any group in my life that should be able to engage in high-quality discussions on these sorts of topics, it's us. But even we really don't reason together toward a solution to problems very well. We don't listen and build on one another's thoughts as much as use one another's statements as a cue for simply restating "our" position. It's almost to the point where it is dangerous to say the word "ethanol" in that group if you don't have 20 minutes to rehash the same well-plowed ground (see, I can't even listen to myself - I go for the joke even on myself).

So, when next we are in a conversation, I hope this is what you will see.

But, more likely, it will be this:

But, hey, I'm trying. Some.

Fish and Whistle, Whistle and Fish

2007-06-03T17:54:00.000-05:00

It's my opinion that there is little to compare with the joys of lazily fishing from a canoe in a lake in the Boundary Waters. Periods of quiet paddling in an incredibly scenic and peaceful place, interrupted by the explosion of a fish attacking whatever lure you have gently placed in the water. From previous trips together it was clear that Plasticville's esteemed mayor Crown Rudolf enjoys the same thing. We pledged to take a trip north this year to enjoy the woods and especially to test our fishing skills in such a lovely setting.

We took it upon ourselves to recruit another boat of outdoorsmen for our trip - the experienced and wily angler C. Walter Lack, and the relatively inexperienced Cherry Boy, J. Thomas Seymour. Even his name caused problems with the Minnesota fish licensing authorities. Perhaps they were reluctant to license the owner of the "Fighting Bullwhip" fishing rod. And what kind of a first name is "J."? Whatever the reason, it took all of my lawyering skills and $30 of Tom's money to enable Mr. Seymour to ply the waters of Minnesota. But on a Thursday a few weeks ago - off we went to the woods.

This is a Train Party group, so it goes without saying that a contest was established. Actually, three contests. A team contest, with the winning team being the twosome with the most credited inches of fish - based on a scientific, complex and sometimes changing formula. A second contest utilizing the same formula was established to determine the MOST VALUABLE FISHERMAN AND GREATEST FISHERMAN IN THE UPPER MIDWEST. And finally a more subjective contest - the contest to boat the "Most Impressive Fish, All Things Considered." This is the contest which Harry and I have on our fall trips - so I felt duty bound to make every effort to score well in this event.

Our plan to fish in East Pike - in the area where Wein's grandfather, the venerable Doc Johnson, built his cabin decades ago - was thwarted by a large fire. So we diverted to the very west end of the park to Trout Lake. That allowed us to spend a night enjoying the hospitality of my friends the Remicks on Black Duck Island.

And then it was off to Trout Lake - a large lake and one of the few in the BWCA on which motors are allowed. That wasn't a plus - but it worked out fine. Oddly, on Friday when we put in boats with motors were everywhere. But the frequency of hearing motors decreased throughout the rest of the trip. I don't think that was due to any alcoholic haze. Perhaps the changing weather. Who knows.

The highlights of the first day's fishing was the lovely six pound Lake Trout conjured from the waters by Tom "the Snake Charmer" Seymour (so named because of his amazing ability to entice small to medium sized northern's to his lures). Mr. Green added a nice though somewhat smaller laker to the larder, and dinner was secured.

Sunday dawned with snow falling gently - a first for me in the Boundary Waters. I think the variability of the weather is illustrated pretty well by this photo:

When your sandals are snowy, you know the weather is changing. And on Sunday my fishing luck changed in a big way when I hooked a very large northern. Tom Seymour and I had quite a time getting the fish in the boat - but it was really fun to try to land a 40" fish. Unlike the smaller fish I've caught in the past, there was no way to get this one in the boat until she was tired out. So, oddly enough, once in the boat there was little of the thrashing around that I associate with northerns.

After this photo and a couple of others, the northern was returned to the water. I hope that by now she is the proud mother of another brood of fish. Wein followed up my northern with a nice bass, an even nicer walleye and we had the makings of yet another fish dinner. Curt's skills as a fillet master were a wonder to me - and his cooking skills were almost as developed.

When all was said and done, Wein was officially named the MOST VALUABLE FISHERMAN AND GREATEST FISHERMAN IN THE UPPER MIDWEST. There was a small amount of grousing about the fact that his paddle remained a bit on the dry side while he fished. But my man fished for the cycle, catching all four species of fish. The Snake Charmer came in second, closely followed by Curt (who rallied at the end after a pitiful start as his experience and skill began to show). I brought up the rear - too far behind for Wein to carry us to the team championship. But I did win the "Most Impressive Fish, All Things Considered" contest.

Of course everyone was a winner. The fact that you are able to go to a great place with great friends is a victory in itself. Some of life's best moments - a most impressive trip, all things considered.

Washington!

2007-04-03T19:34:00.000-05:00

Kate, Madeline and I are exploring the state of Washington. Seattle to start with the gracious hosting of our friends Fred and Mary.

Then north to the Skagit Valley to explore the tulip fields. Perhaps a little different, but all of us actually were pleased with the yellow tulip.

And to do a photo shoot with Kate. We wanted a background which matched her jacket.

We've made our way to the Olympic Penninsula, exploring Port Townsend and the Dungeness Spit - both on a glorious sunny day which is never a given in this part of the world. Here's the view from my seat as we were eating lunch.

The spit is a 5 mile long stretch of sand extending into the Strait of Juan de Fuca (a name we have enjoyed butchering)

The tide was coming in.

And now we are going out to the west coast and Kalaloch Lodge. "Off the grid", as Wein would put it.

COU's and Changes

2007-03-23T16:58:00.000-05:00

We have a practice in our family to spot COU's, and on our return from Portland last Saturday night we may have found the Center of the Universe. For us a COU is a person or group who seem to believe that they have found the center of the universe and they are in fact it. Our baggage was slow in arriving as we returned from Portland and everyone was understandably interested in getting their bags and being on their way. There was a 60ish woman who had positioned herself directly below the conveyor which would bring the bags, ensuring that she would be be the first to have the opportunity to inspect the bags as they arrived. On this busy night, bags for more than one flight were arriving at the same carousel.

When bags began to arrive (though not actually from our flight) the COU began removing any of the rectangular "wheel and handle" type bags to determine if they were hers. Green, brown, black, blue - it made no difference (though she apparently knew that her bag was not red, or any other bright color - for those she would leave alone). She would take each bag off, look at it for a while, and then cavalierly dump it back on the carousel as if it was not of any use to humanity. It was clear that in her view the carousel was merely a device put there by the airport commission to convey bags away from her (since it would be difficult and inconvenient to just pile the bags that weren't hers next to her). Finally, after 40 or so inspections she kept a blue bag for a couple of minutes, and we decided the show was over. Wrong. She decided that the blue bag wasn't hers after all and flipped in halfway onto the carousel - leaving it to others to either get out of the way or improve the placement of the bag (which, in the land of Minnesota nice was a process that several people had already begun). An amazing display.

One of the things that I loved about Oregon was our time at the ocean. We were overlooking the ocean at our hotel/apartment.

I suppose we all know that change is a constant in life (at least on some level). At the ocean the process happens about every 6 hours. High tide, low tide, high tide, low tide. The footprints you made in the morning are gone as the tide rolls in. You can explore the rock that you were watching waves crash over a few hours before. The greenery and flower that somehow wash up on shore will probably be washed out again at the next high tide.

It's really an amazing process, and one I always find very thought provoking to be around. When we returned home I noticed that a flowering crabapple tree Kate and I dug the hole for and planted at our old house, one that had grown to probably 30 feet tall and which I enjoy passing every day when I walk the dog, had been radically trimmed back. I was a little saddened by the haircut - but my time at the ocean really helped me to put this change in perspective. Still, I do hope that not all of the "footprints" I've made in my life will be washed away by the next high tide.

A Little Bit of Everything

2007-03-15T13:09:00.000-05:00

The three of us have seen a little bit of everything here in the Portland area.

Waterfalls.

I think I saw an "ent" in these woods.

There, see it?

Mount Hood was visible if you got on the east side of it.

And a Haystack at the ocean.

Dunes.

And the view from our room.

Nice.

Hello from Portland

2007-03-12T08:35:00.000-05:00

Peter, Kate and I have made our way to Portland. A flight on Saturday night that left at 9:30, combined with daylight savings kicking in made for a slow start on our first day. But we had a really good day kicking around the city. If normal form holds, I'll post a few photos as the trip proceeds. I was struck yesterday by a couple of walls.

Well, not literally. But here's another older one that I liked a lot.

We had been in Nikeville for less than 24 hours and Peter (or "Huck" as I was calling him when he was sporting the look below) had bought 2 pairs, while Kate had only purchased one pair. So far I have held firm. More as the trip progresses.

A Lovely Blizzard

2007-03-02T19:16:00.000-06:00

And I'm For ?

2007-01-09T12:09:00.000-06:00

This past couple of months is one time of year when I spend a fair amount of time watching sports. Football bowl games, basketball games. Mostly fairly forgettable (other than the Boise State / Oklahoma football classic). But it's something I more or less enjoy. Other than bowl games, I rarely watch a football game unless a team I have a rooting interest in is playing. But I will watch NCAA basketball even if I don't know much about either team. Scouting for my various bets I will have with friends on the upcoming NCAA basketball tourney. The odd thing is, before I've watched for five minutes I am usually rooting for one team or the other.

On New Year's Eve I had a conversation with my friend Amy on the general subject of who to root for in a given sporting event. She has a fairly clear set of football rooting rules which I would paraphrase, perhaps inaccurately, as "always root for Iowa State and Nebraska, and always root against Colorado, Texas, Notre Dame and all Florida teams. " Our conversation got me thinking about what rules I apply to sports cheering. The anti-Florida, anti-Notre Dame rules are tempting, but I just can't make them into rules.

For me it's a mishmash of factors. If there are players on a team that I really like, I will overlook the institution. In last year's NCAA basketball tourney I really liked the way Joachim Noah played for Florida and their general style of play, enough so that I became a fan in spite of a general negativity about the institution and no fondness for the coach.

But generally coaches matter. I like Iowa football because I like the coach. I dislike Iowa basketball for the same reason. And I'm a graduate of the Iowa law school. I have always rooted against Arizona and Syracuse basketball because Lute Olson and Jim Boeheim seemed like sanctimonious whiners to me. But over time my dislike of those teams has weakened.

At some level, institutions matter too. I almost always root for Cal, because I really like Berkeley. I root for Wisconsin because I like the institution (and Madeline goes there). More in basketball because I like the coach and they have a Minnesota kid starting at guard.

I suppose conferences matter too. I tend to root for the Big Ten. Against the ACC and the SEC.

So I decided to become analytical about it, creating a support formula to enable me to make this decision in advance:

Support Rating = .4532(Player Rating) + .314 (Coach Rating) + .17 (Institution Rating) + .1234 (Conference Rating)

I apply this simple formula to each team and determine which team has the higher Support Rating. Then I call Kate, ask her which team has the best uniforms, and root for that team.

Official 2006 Holiday Card

2006-12-16T09:17:00.001-06:00

Happy Holidays! Joyful Solstice! Merry Christmas! Happy Hannukah! Best Wishes! Joyeux Noël! Feliz Navidad! Kung His Hsin Nien bing Chu Shen Tan! Glædelig Jul (I've borrowed some new greetings from my friend Richard's emails - for all I know he got them from a grocery sack. I hope they actually mean good wishes)! Gajan Kristnaskon! Hyvaa Joulua! Buorrit Juovllat! Gledileg Jol! Nodlaig Mhaith Chugnat! Buone Feste Natalizie! Natale Hilare et Annum Faustum! Pozdrevlyayu s Prazdnikom Rozhdestva is Novim Godom! God Jul and (Och) Ett Gott Nytt! År Ruumsaid Juulup! Season's Greetings! Peace!

2006 has been a great year for our family. Along the way we've made a number of discoveries that we thought we would share in this Second Annual Official Holiday Blog-Card.

At a lovely summer wedding we discovered that Peter and Kate are a couple of dancing fools. Disco fever has never died out completely in Kate. The prevailing comment at the wedding was that Peter must be adopted, because no child of Stan's could possibly display that much poetry of motion on a dance floor.

Kate and Madeline discovered that $24 no longer buys the island of Manhattan as they travelled to New York City for Madeline's spring break from the UW. They loved the theater, the museums, the people watching and the time together.

In April, Peter, Kate and Stan discovered the wonders of Zion National Park and the American Southwest. We spent the better part of a week hiking Zion's various trails. Peter was the only one of us to complete Angel's Landing, but all three of us had a wonderful and thought provoking time exploring this marvelous country. We also stopped in Las Vegas on Peter's 18th birthday on our way back. There were no stories that particularly need to stay in Vegas, but we did enjoy the Blue Man Group. It was great fun to spend a week together.

After reading a paper she wrote on her educational philosophy, Stan and Kate discovered that Madeline has a thoughtful and refined philosophy of education which will no doubt prove highly valuable to her when she embarks on her teaching career. Unfortunately, her professor was initially less impressed. Madeline discovered that even Professors of Education can be arbitrary and capricious on a bad day. Another valuable lesson - especially since everything turned out fine.

Peter has discovered the joys of college, and an academic environment that involves less busy work and more interesting learning. The University of Iowa seems to suit him very well, both socially and academically. In a perfect world, it would be nice to have both Madeline and Peter about 2 hours away. Instead it's over a four hour trip to Iowa City or Madison. But the world is smaller than it was when we were in college. With cell phones and iChat, Kate and Stan can feel more connected than we otherwise would. And Stan has discovered that providing requested help on papers and other projects is so much more enjoyable than the daily "is your homework done?" hectoring.

At Thanksgiving we rediscovered that 24 pounds of turkey is more than enough for a family of four. Yes there were leftovers. It was great to have both kids home for the Thanksgiving holiday. Madeline, Kate and Stan even attempted the dreaded Friday After Thanksgiving 6 a.m. shopping extravaganza. Please remind Stan that he discovered that he never again wants to experience the joy of this tribute to consumerism again.

One of the year's least pleasant discoveries occurred on a trip to the cottage in late August. We discovered mold in the master bedroom. Fortunately, it hadn't spread to the rest of the cabin. The room has now been gutted, setting up a major renovation project for Stan in 2007. A new metal roof has been placed on the cabin, the sauna and the screen house, ensuring that the roof problems won't reoccur.

As empty nesters, Kate and Stan were told they would have more free time, less responsibility. We have discovered that Greta takes more attention than Peter ever did (which we should have already known). Greta has yet to meet a door she doesn't want to be on the other side of. As a 10 year old dog, Greta is part puppy and part old woman. Still, she does have personality.

Even if life isn't filled with idle moments, the transition to the empty nest has a few benefits. Stan has less trouble finding the remote controls (or at least has no one but himself to blame if he can't locate them). And perhaps the house stays a bit better organized. Kate and Stan have taken up yoga in their spare time. It's fun, but not easy. Our "tree poses" are more reminiscent of the jack pines at the cabin teetering in the wind than a giant oak tree, that's for sure.

By Stan's count, we have "discovered" about 93 times this year that Kate is a great chef. It is a joy to be on the receiving end of Kate's creative approach to food. In an effort to keep the tonnage down, Stan has continued to bike to work year round. Stop and visit any time. You can count on pleasant company and great food.

It can hardly be called a discovery, but 2006 has reaffirmed what we've known for a very long time -

that family . . .

and friends. . .

are the most important thing. Have a great holiday and a wonderful 2007. There's always room at 2134 Carroll. Stop and see us!

Love,

Peter, Stan, Madeline, & Kate

This Space Reserved

2006-12-16T09:14:00.001-06:00

Here's the unretouched version of the photo of Madeline:

The Official Holiday Card will be coming soon and demands top billing. I need space in case I have other things to write in the next couple of weeks.

December 24th - Strange Convergences

It's odd how things sometimes converge. This morning I finished The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid, a memoir by Bill Bryson. I think it would be a great read for anyone, but particularly for me. For Bill Bryson grew up in Des Moines, Iowa at the same time that I was growing up in Newton, Iowa. So much of his childhood and much of mine took place in the same places. Bishop's Cafeteria. The big theaters of Des Moines. The kiddie corral at Dahl's. He lived in the big city of Des Moines - my family went there often. His reflections on those times really resonated with me and took me vividly back to my childhood. He ends the book talking about how great it would be if we had somehow kept the the things that were great about those times (but added Dolby sound). He finishes the book with these sentences, "What a wonderful world that would be. What a wonderful world it was. We won't see its like again, I'm afraid."

And of course Christmas in many ways does the same thing. As a person in middle age with grown children, Christmas is both a time when I reflect on blessings and remember holidays past. Our holiday celebrations are great. Wonderful quiet times with family and friends. Still, they lack the wonder of racing down the stairs to see what Santa has brought and running right by the slot car set onto the porch. The sinking feeling of being somewhat stiffed by Santa was short-lived, followed soon by the joys of hot slot car racing.

Or the joys of watching your own children have similar experiences.

Then, as I was walking Greta on this pretty, sunny day and listening to a shuffle of songs on my iPod, I heard a James Taylor song ("Letter in the Mail") that I swear I have never listened to before, about the passing of things. About change. About good things lost that aren't coming back (at least that was what it was about for me today).

Part of me laments the loss of those times. Part of me feels that my generation hasn't made this a better world - that life was somehow better in those simpler times. I'll bet at times my dad felt the same way. And his dad.

While I am sure life was different in many ways, maybe it's just an idle use of time to worry about the "better/worse" aspect of it. Christmas in 1956 was pretty cool. So is Christmas in 2006.

Slumps

2006-11-30T12:47:00.000-06:00

I guess I'm in a writing slump. I haven't posted much on the blog the last couple of months. And it's almost time for the second annual Official Holiday Card to be posted. Actually, I've "written" several entries over the last couple of months while riding my bike to and from work.

One about a disagreement my friend Charlie and I had over the public sharing of information - which would have involved the Associated Press, the way that our different "lenses" affect what we hear and who we believe, a long running argument fueled by bourbon and relief, and probably at least some joking reference to Charlie's inability to conduct even the most rudimentary risk/reward analysis.

One about determinism, and my visceral reaction to the assertion that "things are destined by the stars", "it was God's will", "it was meant to be" and other similar statements. But written in a way that acknowledged the mystical, the ununderstood and ununderstandable. Maybe even an acknowledgment that even in the wildly unlikely event that it is all written in the stars, it's much more satisfying to live as if it isn't. I probably would have found a way to work in one of my favorite bumper stickers - which reads "What if the Hokey Pokey really is what it's all about?"

One about following from the front - ingeniously tying together my dog Greta's technique of always being in front of me on our walks (though in fact she is following me) and most American politicians. As the election season went by I was more and more willing to vote for politicians who were more likely to make decisions based upon principles rather than polls. Even if I didn't completely agree with the principles.

But I didn't actually write any of them. Much of my computer time was spent categorizing photos - a big job that I enjoyed and which is now complete. I guess I can't really blame the cold I've had for the last 10 days (though I've enjoyed blaming things on that lately). Probably, it just wasn't meant to be.

A Roof Over Our Head

2006-10-14T17:43:00.000-05:00

A quiet weekend at the cabin. Walks and saunas. And looking at the new metal roof – half way installed on a cold and windy week last week. I think it will be really nice. And it will mean that I can begin to put our bedroom back together come spring. Sunday morning I’ll be turning off the water for the season.

Much less excitement than last weekend. Kate and I were quietly sitting on our deck with our friends Kay and Reechow a week ago. All at once – CRACK! – a large branch split above our head and headed toward the deck, missing Kay and me by a mere 3 feet. I don’t suppose once could call it a near death experience. But it was exciting.

And a challenge to cut into pieces last Sunday. But ultimately no more harm than a sore back this week. I spent a while trying to figure out if I was unlucky (the tree branch fell, after all, and it fell when we were sitting under it) or lucky (it missed us, after all). Probably a little of both in this case. On the whole, mostly lucky.

It was cool and windy on Saturday late afternoon for my last sauna of the year. I usually go in and out of the sauna three times, with a dive in the lake or, this time of the year, a quick outdoor shower between. Before my final trip to the sauna I was taking a few extra seconds to sit in the sun on the deck protected from the wind enjoying the clear blue sky and the residual heat from two trips into the sauna, when a bald eagle began circling overhead. He continued circling for what seemed to me to be five minutes. Long enough for me to conclude (perhaps erroneously, I must admit) that he or she had only recently gotten a white head and tail. Some of his body feathers still had the look of an immature bald eagle. A wonderful end of the season goodbye – though the eagle, like us, will head south soon. So hopefully just a “so long.” I had cooled pretty completely by the time I made it back to the sauna. A great moment. Like I said, on the whole, mostly lucky.

Did Nothing and Rested Afterwards

2006-09-30T08:17:00.000-05:00

Kate and I had a great day together yesterday. In some ways sort of a “did nothing and rested afterwards” day. We were up early to do the final “dealer prep” for refinishing of our kitchen floor. That didn’t take long, and the man who was doing the job was delayed sufficiently to allow me to completely read the sports page and fool around migrating things to a new iMac I bought this week. When he did arrive with what at least in retrospect was perfect timing for me, we piled in the Volvo with Greta and headed north towards the cabin. But rather than our usual “how fast can we get there” drive, we stopped in Hinckley for breakfast, taking our time over cakes and eggs in downtown Hinckley. We’ve driven to our cabin via Hinckley for over 17 years. And yet if we’ve ever been downtown, it hasn’t been more than once. Were we missing something great all these years? Not really. Still, it just felt great to be in no hurry to get anywhere.

There was a light rain falling as we continued, but it seemed to only intensify the fall colors. Kate almost always drives, and this time was no exception. Normally I read, glancing up each of the three times we cross the St. Croix River. This time the colors drew me away from the book. The iPod was picking great songs as it shuffled away. Kate is famous for always turning down the volume on the stereo. But I’m sure I saw her turn up the volume (I guess that’s my “Grand Casino story” – since she did it as we drove by the Grand Casino).

We took turns pointing out pretty groups of trees to one another all the way to the cabin. When we arrived Shawn (the man in charge of putting a new roof on the cabin) was positioning a dumpster south of the cabin. We had a nice conversation with him as we gradually settled in at the cabin. Kate started a fire as I unlocked things and moved bags in. The cabin warmed gradually, and before long we were sitting around the stove reading and warming on a cool and rainy day. I started The Kite Runner and Kate was finishing up The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri. By late afternoon the rain stopped and we were able to go for a walk near the source of the St. Croix, enjoying the fall colors and just strolling in the woods (though Greta wasn’t strolling – the first day at the cabin she is a sprinter. Her age usually catches up with her later in the weekend).

Then, it a rare and odd move, we grilled a steak and had it on the table by 6:30! I pointed out to Kate that I wasn’t quite sure how to grill a steak in the daylight. But we had decided we wanted to watch last night’s episode of Gray’s Anatomy (excuse me, Grey's Anatomy), which was being rerun on ABC at 7. Which we did. In keeping with the spirit of the day, we drank a bottle of Girard wine in the “slow mode” – being careful to enjoy each sip. When the next TV show came on, we watched a few minutes and then in a moment of inspiration Kate said, “This isn’t really very good.” So we turned off the television and returned to our books.

Soon enough Kate bundled up for the walk down to the cool screen house, our bedroom having fallen victim to the roof problem. I finished my chapter and followed.

Nothing dramatic. But a great day.

A Rite of Fall

2006-09-18T12:35:00.000-05:00

I may have found something that in an odd way I agree with the Catholic Church about - the value of ritual. One of the annual rites or rituals in my life is the September canoe trip to the Boundary Waters which I take with Harry. I suppose in an odd way this annual trip performs a function for me which is not unlike the function of communion or Easter for a practicing Christian. For this trip has an importance in my life that goes beyond that of the purely secular.

It's a reconnection with nature and a marker that I have been lucky enough to make "one more lap around the sun."

It's my fishing "Super Bowl" - even though in most years it is the only time I fish at all. Harry and I each make it our goal to catch the most impressive fish (all things considered). By the way, I was the lucky one who happened to snag the most impressive fish this year - a true fighter we named "Hector Bassquez." The only skill I can claim is my clever (and totally random) choice of a lovely jointed orange Rapala which I named The Orange Order as I put it in the water when we began to canoe through West Pike. After that I was just reeling them in (for about 10 minutes, until the magic stopped).

It's a chance to laugh and observe the world and work with Harry to create theme jokes of the weekend, essentially alone in our own little universe. To sit and stare at the fire with a beverage and solve the problems of the world.

In some ways and at some times it can be strange to be away from the day to day of the world. Of course, that was particularly true in September, 2001, when we went to the woods just a few days after the events of 9/11. But it was even true this year. The sunsets were odd, particularly on Thursday. The sun became a large orange ball in the sky earlier than normal. And the clouds didn't explode in color in the way that seemed normal. Harry and I concluded that there were fires in the area. But we didn't know we were right until we returned home to read the newspaper articles about fires about 10 miles away on the Gunflint Trail.

And of course it's a great chance to consider how lucky I am. And not just at catching fish.