Minnesota: From the Perspective of a Nomad, Part 2

Food. Every locality I've ever lived has certain kinds of food it's more known for. In Tennessee, they fry everything. (As they do all over the South.) In New England, sea food is high on the list. (I never thought lobster rolls at McDonald's odd until someone - from Tennessee - asked about it.) In Texas, there's a lot of Tex-Mex, which I grew to like quite a bit. And in Indiana...well, what else do you have but corn? And now living in Minnesota, I am learning what they eat.

I wouldn't say that it's anything particularly unusual. One of the things they have is wild rice. It grows wild up here and I'm told they go out in the bogs and beat it into baskets with sticks. It's dark in color and you have to soak and cook it for quite a while. (It doesn't come in "instant".) Apparently, it has a nutty flavor. I was given some for my birthday, but I haven't tried it yet. First I want to try it plain. Then I want to try it in a soup which I hear is really, really good.

The heritage of the people up here is Scandinavian, Swedish and some German tossed in. (I'm thinking the ones that got kicked out of Wisconsin for some reason.) With that background, I am told the food can be rather bland with lots of meat and potatoes with beer on the side. Despite my 1/4 German blood, I don't eat a lot of meat, I eat even fewer potatoes and I have never drank beer and am not about to start. (Why would I put something that smells that horrible in my mouth?) And after three years of Tex-Mex, my tastes are anything but bland. Not sure how I'm going to fit into that.

I got to try it out last week when Carmen (the registrar who's job I am taking) took me to a local cafe which serves German food on Wednesdays. Thankfully, the menu explained what it was although a few of them I knew. I had bratwurst with sauerkraut and spaetzle, which are small dumplings topped with burnt butter. I think you can put them in stews. Personally, I kept thinking they needed a little cinnamon and sugar. While I need much spicier mustard for my bratwurst. Not to mention how many carbs I was stuffing my body with...but it was good.

While at the cafe, I looked at their pie list as they are known for their pies. One thing I have learned is that custard-based pies with mounds of meringue on top is popular. Most of them I knew. One I did not: sour cream raisin. Carmen was surprised I had never heard of it before in my life, but she couldn't tell me much about it as she hates raisins. I asked Lisa (women's ministries at camp) about it later. She said some people use sour cream but actually it's whipping cream soured a bit with vinegar or lemon juice. Then it has sugar and spices in it along with the raisins and is topped with meringue. I'm not sure if I want to try it or not...maybe a sliver.

Tomorrow for lunch is a potluck for Carmen. I'm not sure I'll learn any dishes or not, but we'll see. Whatever people bring, I know it will be good and there will be plenty of it.

Today on my birthday, I will not be getting a tan…

 …instead, I will see snow!

Oh, the Things you will Learn!

I suppose it is safe to say that in every job I’ve had, I learned things I didn’t think I would. It would also be safe to say that I knew in coming to Minnesota to work in a camp full time, I would learn things I never thought about pertaining to camp. But I must say that defibrillators and elevators were certainly not on the radar.

I got introduced to the defibrillator (AED) last week. I was shown the box where it was kept, mostly to be informed that the key to turn off the fire alarms is also in that box. (Only to learn today that the new regulation is to let the fire alarm drive everyone crazy until the fire department turns it off – better safe than sorry!) It did cross my mind when I saw it that I’m not at all up on CPR. I’m still not, but I do know how to use the AED. Mostly.

At staff meeting, we had a crash course on it. I felt a bit nervous until Aaron said the thing is so simple to use, he would trust his seven-year-old daughter to use it on him. (Thinking about that now, I’m not sure he thought that all the way through. For she could probably use the machine, but would he trust her to use the razor to shave his chest first?) However, he is right. You turn the machine on and it walks you through every single step with instructions loud enough to be heard over the panic that will no doubt be ringing in your ears. So, while I think I could manage…let’s hope I never have to use it.

The next thing I learned was how to save someone stuck in the elevator. Now that was fascinating. First of all, the people stuck will call out and get Phil, the maintenance guy (as the phone is directed to his cell).  And he will ask, “Are you all right? And are you my children?” (More on that later.) And then he (or anyone else on staff if he’s not around) will do the following: get help so one person can talk to the stuck people while the other manipulates the machine. Find out what floor the people are on and assure them he will get them down by doing some simple things. First, turn off the power. (Don’t worry – the lights inside don’t go off.) And then open the tank and turn the knob so the tank fills, releasing the water in the hydraulic system, which will slowly lower the cage just below the ground floor. After that is done, there is a key which goes into a hole in the outside door of the elevator. By turning it, it hooks onto something which allows you to slide it open. There is then a latch you push, allowing you to pull open the cage door. Be sure to tell the people inside to watch their step as the cage is about six inches below the floor. After such a heroic exploit, call the elevator company to have it checked out before you turn it back on.

The first time Phil had the privilege of doing this was just after the machine was installed 15 or so years ago. He got a call from the office saying some people were stuck inside. He said he panicked a bit because it was the first time this had ever happened. But he calmed down, walked through the steps and slid open the door. There he found not “some” people but 26 of them. 26 young people who decided to find out how much weight the elevator would hold. And among those people? One of his sons…and one of his daughters.

And so begins my education at Camp Lebanon. Data entry, receipts, phone calls, checks and balances…I’ve worked in many offices and know those things. Now I can add to my resume AEDs and saving people from elevators. I wonder what kind of job that could get me…

Minnesota: From the Perspective of a Nomad, Part 1

Obviously, there is much I have to learn about a state I had never been in until January. But now that I live here, I will take the time to learn a little about it.

First, I have learned that Minnesota must be the holiest state in all the United States of America. For I have never seen so many saints in my life. On the top of the list:

• ·      St. Paul
• ·      St. Joseph
• ·      St. Michael
• ·      St. Anthony
• ·      St. Augustine
• ·      St. Francis
• ·      St. Croix Falls
• ·      St. Cloud

And that’s just a start. If you count all the churches, I’ll be ready for Heaven while still on earth if I stay here long enough!

Now, if I were Catholic I might know a little bit about all these saints. (I mean, besides all the beautiful old churches built in their honor all over this state.) But I’m not Catholic. And while I can admire the beauty of old buildings with stain glass windows, they give me little knowledge of how these people become saints. Of course, I know the familiar ones: Michael, Paul, Joseph. But I was more than a little curious about St. Cloud.

My guess was that he was the first (and only?) Native American saint. I was wrong. He was French. And “Cloud” was his nickname. His real name was Clodauld, who was raised by his grandmother St. Clotilde (who, I suppose, was not holy enough to get a town in Minnesota named after her). Not really sure what wonderful thing he did to be called “saint”, but he was known for healing and counsel. Most of his patients must have had carbuncles, for he is the saint against such things. Or maybe he healed buildings. For he is also the saint for nail makers.

Just to be clear, I learned from someone who has been in Minnesota for the past decade that many of these saints are not incorporated towns at all. When the Catholics built their many churches, they called the parishes around them by the same names. Later, many became towns or cities. But many more are still parishes simply known by that name. And with as many churches as I’ve seen, it’s amazing that every town in Minnesota isn’t named after a saint! 

One Week Down

As I sit to write this, I find my mind is swimming about as much as it has been since...well, about mid-morning Wednesday. Not sure what triggered the information overload, but it was bound to happen this week. Isn't it always that way when you learn a new job?

Truth is, I can't remember what each day held. Monday was easy enough and only half a day anyhow. Tuesday started with staff meetings, but I guess my intro to that was short and sweet. I hear when Bill runs meetings, they can go on and on. With Eric, it's straight to the point. But, I've also learned that we're in the lull before the storm. There are only a few "major" events in February, but they're easy enough for they consist of smaller groups and/or church groups. Those are just easier to deal with: check in one mob with one payment. Haven't personally dealt with that yet, but I can see how that would be easier than over 200 women with over 200 payments in a myriad of varieties. That begins next month. They call them quilt retreats. Thankfully, 90% of the women are pre-registered and pre-paid in full. 

So, what I have I learned this week? First, how to register family camps, house them on a first-come-first-serve basis and process those payments (which I may have forgotten a little by now...you deal with deposits on those and not complete payments). 

Second, women are much more complicated than men. I'm sorry, but I'm a little ashamed of my sex. I can be complicated, I know, but I do try to be low-maintance. But women, in general, are not. Do you know how many steps there are to registering women for quilt retreats? And, I'm thinking, the complications are compounded because women are running the registration process. To me, there's got  to be a simpler, more efficient way to do this. In fact, there's one step I totally don't get at all. But I do it. Because it might make sense later. Or I might toss it as soon as Carmen turns her back. (Which she won't mind - she knows you have to make the job your own.) Of course it would be all-around easier if most women didn't expect their own personal menu because they have a strawberry allergy or desire monogrammed bed linens. On the flip side, I hear these women are some of the nicest people you'll ever meet. And even Pete (the program director) told me today he loves setting up for quilt retreats. It takes every single one of us nearly a full day to do it, but it's a blast. So, in the end, I'm sure it's worth it.

Third, men want nothing. Registration? Well, don't expect them to pre-register unless their wives do it for them. They'll just show up, put their name on a list, hand you a fist full of cash and be done with it. They don't want fancy name or door tags (stickers and a marker to make a name tag while masking tape with their name on it will do to get them to the right room). In the end, all Marc wants is the money to balance in the right accounts, Aaron wants there to be enough room and Bill wants the final numbers. I think I can handle that.

Fourth, summer will be a whirlwind of events...something like Pete who is fully in charge of that. Haven't dealt a lot with what all that will be like since it's only February and the full summer brochure isn't even out. But the two hour meeting with Pete today was certainly the fullest. I have an idea of what summer is like at camp - I have lived through two of them. On the other hand, it scares me the most. I'm kind of hoping Carmen might come back for a week to hold my hand. I'm certainly hoping I won't pull out my hair or break down in tears every day. Or kill a summer staffer for messing up the office supplies in the cabinets I intend to put in order. I hear it can be a free-for-all. I wonder if Eric would consider locks...

Fifth, camp is a ministry. From facilities to the kitchen to the housekeeping to the directors of events to my job. And, honestly, I think that is going to be the biggest learning curve. For while I considered hospice to be a ministry, in that office it was a business to be run efficiently, economically and with as little room for error as possible. For over three years I've been wound tight with following laws, apologizing for problems we never had any control over but had to fix, and running a tight ship both monetarily and by federal mandate. This week I've been told to "ere on the side of generosity" and "turn a negative into a positive with a cheerful spirit". So while the different account blocks, activities and my part in all of it makes little sense right now; I feel like I've walked into a foreign country because it doesn't matter if meeting with Pete goes on for two hours, or the phone goes to voice mail, or I'm late because the snow in my driveway is up to my ears. For events will get done whether my Excel worksheet is perfect or not. Women will quilt even if I put their payment under the wrong account block and have to spend fifteen minutes finding it when things don't balance. And kids will laugh and scream with delight whether I put a wrong name on a door tag or hang it upside down. Because camp is a ministry. 

And not just for those who come...but also for those who work here.

My first day at work...

...began at noon. Why? Well, when there is about a foot of snow in the driveway a quarter of a mile long plus two cars and a small John Deere stuck in it - you know how that can be. But, thankfully, work is just around the corner. So once I could get out, I had no trouble. I think a snowmobile might be a nice addition to the top of my birthday list, though. Then I'd never have to worry about getting to work!

The next five hours went by very quickly. Had a meeting with my boss to go over all that paperwork that comes with a new job. Will get it filled out shortly. Then I just followed Carmen around. Got a tour of the office. I was quite impressed. Nothing lacking there - paper, pens, pencils, staples...anything an office could desire and no problem getting more if I want it. Now, that's something I'm not use to.

Carmen showed me a few odd things that her job consists of. She doesn't think so, but she is a very good teacher. I got to put in registrations for the four family camps they have every summer (two weekends, Memorial and Labor, and two week long in July and August). The database is familiar, for it is based on Access just as the one at the hospice was. So, I didn't have much trouble catching on. I thought I was going terribly slow for I was being very careful how I got everyone's personal info, correct registration and cost in rightly. But at the end, Carmen told me I caught on very quickly and training was going to go faster than she thought.

I'm not so sure. The database and all that will be easy enough. The terminology will take a while. And thanks to the snowstorm, the girl that stayed at our house last night, showed me in all her chatter how much I have forgotten how camp is a world in and of itself. That will be an adjustment, especially in the summer. But it will also make for some great laughs. They don't know it, but college students are very amusing.

But I will say this: after my last job, this one will be a vacation. Carmen would tell me something about overnighters and then say, "But you don't have to do that. Pete takes care of it." Or she'd say something about all the quilting retreats and then add, "But it's not really your concern. Lisa does all that." Everyone's job descriptions include exactly what they are responsible for - every scope of it. And so there is so much I don't have to know right away. I can do my job and wait to learn where I fit into everyone else's.

Tomorrow's goal? I get to answer two phone calls. As usual, the phones make me more nervous than anything. But two is a good, steady start. And I'll listen closely to Carmen when she answers so I learn what the answers are to the questions that get asked most often. And I have my first staff meeting. I'll probably be half lost, but I'll listen and learn. And that will be enough for now.

www.camplebanon.org

Move to Minnesota: in Four Parts

Part 1

All stories should start with something exciting to grab the reader’s attention, but I’m afraid this story does not. For packing, and running errands, and having people feed you, and loading the truck is something I’ve done more times than I care to count. The loading of the trailer was a new adventure, but the guy at the storage place was very helpful. Then off Dad and I went early Thursday morning: out of Texas, into Oklahoma, through Kansas, hit Missouri and stopped in Iowa. Then off the next day through Iowa and into Minnesota. Nothing exciting to tell about that. Same interstate until you hit Minneapolis and then it’s a straight shot up to my new home. Once we got the truck unloaded into the garage of the house I’m staying at for a few weeks….that’s when it got exciting.

Part 2

The truck got stuck in the snowy driveway. Dad was being real careful for we needed to get it turned around, trailer and all. But it couldn’t get the traction it needed on the ice under the snow. We unhooked the trailer and then tried dirt (couldn’t find sand), bricks and even boards. Finally, I called Andrea at the camp (I’m living with her for a few weeks in a place she’s housesitting). Camp’s just around the corner, so Wayne and Aaron came over with the pickup truck. Being true men of the mid-northwest, they knew exactly what to do. Hooked it up, put some salt out (because Wayne hadn’t reloaded his truck with sand) and pulled. Didn’t work at first, but once Aaron jumped on the back of the truck…it popped out. They rigged that trailer up faster than you could blink and off we went.

Part 3

I have crossed the Mississippi many times in my life, but never parts of it frozen solid with snowmobile tracks on top. On Friday, I crossed it five times. No, it doesn’t wind that much up here. We just had to drop off the truck, head back, decided to go get something to eat and then crossed it again when we got lost. There is nothing out here in the wilds of Minnesota, so when we returned the truck we went into St. Cloud. It’s a typical college town. Lots of weird shops and places to eat. But further down is also the regular shopping, restaurants, malls, etc. Reminded me a little of Denton except colder, the people have a funny accent and there are more Catholic churches and saints than you can shake a stick at. (More on that in a later post…)

Part 4

Welcome to Minnesota! It started snowing sometime last night. And except for a couple of brief lulls, has not stopped. Thankfully, Dad left on a flight yesterday. For I didn’t even attempt to get out the church today. Read my Bible and the listened to Sermon Audio. After that, I pulled out the winter coat and boots that haven’t been worn in nearly four years, put on my new hat and gloves and out I went. Wasn’t out there very long when I turned and found Andrea walking up the long driveway. She had been at the camp finishing up a retreat and now her car was stuck in the driveway. We decided it best to leave it as is, went inside and got to talking. Twenty or so minutes later, the door opens and someone comes in. It’s a girl who was helping up at the camp this weekend and her car is now stuck in our driveway also. Well, we had to try to get this one out. Which led to getting all our winter gear out, snow shovels, woods to wedge the tires and upper body muscles three girls seriously lack. So, no, we didn’t get the car out. Instead, we walked up to the neighbor’s just to warn them they couldn’t get out with that car where it is. Their son decided it was worth getting the forklift out to try to pull the cars up to the house. Probably not a brilliant idea for we got Andrea’s closer but decided to leave the other until the snow just stops….which will be sometime tomorrow afternoon. And until then, there’s a warm fire, hot chocolate and the strong possibility that my first day at work tomorrow will be a snow day. How’s that for getting the winter I wanted!

 A winter wonderland!

The house I’m staying at for a few weeks.

My car wondering where in the world I have brought it.