Snow!

I have thought in the last couple of weeks that it may be time to change my blog background. After all, Christmas is over...and so is winter...maybe? Apparently not in Minnesota.

It has been dark and overcast for four or five days now. I was thinking just this morning it may be time for the sun to come out, but I quickly decided I didn't like that. I did live three and a half years in a place where the sun always shined (all right, it shined 330 out of 365 days a year) and I could live quite happily if the sun doesn't show itself for a week. Overcast is good.

But it isn't just overcast. Through tonight, tomorrow and into Thursday we are expecting 6-12 inches of snow! Yes, SNOW. Apparently, I'm to blame for that. At least, that's what I've been told four or five times today. ("Well, Melissa, you wanted it!") But we also decided at staff meeting, it's probably Pete's fault. The theme for the summer is Christmas ReDecorated: A New Reason for the Season. In order to have the very best, Pete would like camp covered with snow in July and ice hockey/polar plunges versus canoeing/swimming. And he is well on his way to getting his wish...

In other news, the annual "Ice Award" contest is on. To enter, one must write one's name on a date on the calendar on my counter. The date is one's guess of when the ice on the lake will finally be melted. Presently, the ice is still attached to the land. Therefore, one can guess both in April and May. Phil (the maintenance guy) has guessed April 30 while I'm thinking May 4. Thus far, we are the only two who are competing for the trophy (a gold plaque with a mounted ice remover). But I understand it is a tough contest - one a recent transplant from Texas is not likely to win. Guess we'll just see about that!

A New Hampshire Easter

Well, it wasn’t white! In fact, it was warmer in New Hampshire than where I now live. I have to say, I love that! And it’s so nice to be in an airport and not be on my way back to Texas!!!

Truly, not much exciting went on the several days I was in New Hampshire. After all, a two month old doesn’t do that much. But he does coo, and smile, and cry when he’s unhappy. And he did get spoiled by Aunt Melissa (and that’s “ANT” not “auhnt”). I mean, Aunt Melissa did have to hold him as much as possible – right?

Jayson – aka: Jay, the Cutest Nephew Ever

Dressed up for Easter – complete with little shoes that don’t quite fit yet.

With Mommy and Daddy.

With Mommy, “Unc”(Uncle Daniel) and Aunt Melissa

With Aunt Melissa (and Coda)

Bathtime! – with “Duckie”

Okay…just one more to prove how very cute he is!

This is my baby brother...

...in 1996.

This is my baby brother...

...today.

Happy 18th Birthday, Caleb!

Scrapbooking/Quilting Retreats: The End

Well, as of tomorrow at noon, the spring quilting season is over. For me, it has been a learning experience in many ways. The top four things I learned: 

1. Flexibility
2. Don’t plan on getting much done
3. I’m rather ashamed of my own gender
4. There’s nothing that feels so good as saying, “No!”

The first thing I learned doesn’t need much elaboration. Women come at the last minute, or decide not to come for whatever reason. They add a day or drop one. They forget towels. The second lesson attaches itself easily to lesson one. There were moments when I wondered exactly how many times I needed to change a door sign. Or how I forgot so-and-so’s nametag. Or lost ladies as I rearranged spreadsheets. And since I had to do all that, I could just about plan the pile of registrations coming in the mail everyday would be a week old before I got them into the database. Not exactly the way I like to work, but flexibility is one of my lifelong lessons. Quilting has been another classroom.

I’m not sure how successful I am, but I’ve tried hard in my life to be low-maintenance. In a large family, it’s almost necessity. And my independent nature helps. But I learned this month that 90% of women are anything but low-maintenance. There were times I wanted to say to one of the ladies, “Really? Would you like me to tie your shoes, too?” I mean, I get the whole concept that these ladies are on retreat and we are there to serve them. But, I hate to break it to them, not one of them is the queen of England. Or even Princess Kate. It made me feel ashamed of my sex and wonder how high-maintenance I can be. I have to also say I can’t wait til Dads ‘n Lads the first weekend of May. For one, I don’t even have to do registration. I have to make a list and do door signs. After that, men don’t care as long as you feed them. And even better, they don’t care what you feed them.

The last one happened late last week. A lady called to say she was arriving at this last quilt session on Sunday and was to leave on Tuesday. Could she possibly extend her stay til Wednesday? “No, ma’am,” I told her as apologetically as I could possibly sound. “The retreat ends on Tuesday.” That was very hard to do when I was happily shouting inside, “No! You have to go home! Quilt is over! And I’m going on vacation!” It never felt so good to say, “NO!”

So, quilt is over and I am truly going on vacation. First, Lisa is taking Andrea and I out all day Wednesday. We’re going to eat and shop…and call it a work day. On Thursday afternoon, I fly to New Hampshire for a long weekend which I will spend mostly with my new nephew (okay, yes, my sister will be around, too) and over at Allyson’s with her most wonderful children. That will be my retreat. And I don’t anything at all except time to chase kids around and sit holding a baby. All of which is much better than quilting.

Minnesota:From the Perspective of a Nomad, Part 4

Everybody knows that people in Minnesota have an accent. It’s a heavy accent, especially on the vowels. I wanted to say to the cashier the first weekend I was here if she asked in a plastic bag would be okay, “Um, sure. But it’s a baaag.”

It’s almost as if they get their O’s and A’s mixed up. I lived with one of the girls I work with the first five weeks I was here. She was born and raised in Minnesota…and you can tell. The funniest exchange we had was the first week I was here and we were headed home from work.

“I wish I had a crackpot,” Andrea said.

“A what?” I asked…for I do know what a “crackpot” is and I wasn’t thinking Andrea wanted to started growing crack in the basement.

“A crackpot,” she repeated.

I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know. A slow cooker.”

“Oh!” The light dawned. “A crockpot,” I said, careful to hold my O’s for all they were worth.

The joke became even funnier when I got a crockpot the next week for my birthday….

There have been many times I can’t understand what Andrea is trying to tell me, but she has the same trouble with my accent. The difference is, she envies me mine. I’m practicing every day to keep my Southern accent – I don’t want hers.

The rounded O’s, heavy A’s and funny sounding “Yahs” make listening to the people in the office odd. Another overused phrase is, “Does that make sense?” I think that comes more from the Dakotas, but I’ve gotten a little tired of hearing it…for since I am learning new things, I hear it A LOT!!!! But the most overused word in all of Minnesota is “so”. It comes at the end of about every sentence.

“I took my dog on a walk, so…” 

“I put that on your desk, Melissa, so…”

“It’s snowing again, so…”

I have yet to not sit and wait for the sentence to be finished. Worse, I thought I overused that word and have been trying to stop. This was not a good move to break that habit.

Alongside their funny accent are names I’ve never heard or thought died off in the 19^th century with the immigrants from the Scandinavian countries. First, every other person up here has a last name that ends in “son” or “sen”: Anderson, Larson, Johnson, Peterson, Haraldson, etc. You won’t believe how many I have in my database! And then there are the first names I’ve only read in books from the 1800s like Lars or Anders, which are top contenders for most popular boy’s names. I’ve learned a couple of girls names I’ve never even heard before: Ardis and Arlys. I think they’re rather pretty, although I can’t say “Arlys” without thinking of Old Yeller.

Growing up, my mother always said we were bilingual: Southern and Yankee. I am now adding a third language to my vocabulary: Nothern/Midwestern. But be forewarned: I’m not quite ready to interpret yet.