Tag Archives: Worthington MN

Ice, Snow, Devastation and a Kazoo Band

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There are moments in your life that you never forget. When I am old and wrinkled and more gray even than I am now, I will remember this week with tears, with smiles, and, possibly, with laughter.

My son asked me if, like with hurricanes, they name Midwestern Ice Storms. I told him that we didn’t rate that high on the weatherman’s scale.

“But it’s so bad!” he pointed out.

“Yes, it is,” I replied with a wry smile.

It really is so bad.

April usually is a time to anticipate bulbs poking out of the earth, to dig out asparagus recipes, to watch the daily progression of the leaves on the trees, the birds returning to the upper Midwest.

Not this year.

For those who don’t know, Tuesday night, April 9th, 2013, Worthington, Minnesota and the surrounding area experienced a terrible ice storm which left about 1.5 inches of ice on the trees, followed by 8+ inches of snow on Wednesday night. I live out in the country on ten acres of trees and stream and farmland. We lost electricity Tuesday night. Still don’t have it back as of Saturday afternoon. We have a generator – a reliable one – as of Friday night. The one we had, which came with our house 8 years ago, had never been put to the test before. Sure, we’d used it a few times for a few hours – but nothing like this.

It failed the test.

So finally, last night, my husband forked over $700 for a brand-new (and much quieter) one, so that we can have heat and toilets that flush and food that won’t give us food poisoning.

Can’t wash our clothes. Can’t run the dishwasher. No internet. No TV. (My son’s comment on these terrible facts: “Mom, what did you and Dad DO all day when you were kids?”)

But all of that pales in comparison with what’s happened outside of our windows.

Total tree devastation. It’s a war zone, a bombing site, an unrecognizable horizon.

And no, I have no photos for you yet – not until I get power back and can download all of my photos onto my PC. I’m in town right now, at my favorite hang-out, BenLees Café. It’s a refuge here from the sadness out my window.

My kids have named all of their favorite trees. There’s the Hosanna Tree, so named because its leaves resemble the palm fronds on Palm Sunday. (I think it will survive.) There’s the Shady Tree aka the Climbing Tree. It’s our favorite. My girls and I cried yesterday when we stood in front of it. I don’t think there’s any way it will survive. And then there’s Mr. and Mrs. Maple Tree – Mrs. Tree is doomed. Mr. Tree might make it – but it looks like he got a terrible hair cut.

And then there are 100 more trees – give or take – which have suffered the indignities of a very angry giant stomping through our yard and tearing twigs and branches off and throwing them willy-nilly all over the yard.

At least that’s what it feels like.

And sounded like.

Oy, vey, the sounds of the crackling ice when you stood outside in the silence of zero electricity. It was almost like running water, only then you realized that everything was frozen and it was just the constant crack of ice on trees as they blew in the wind.

And the sounds indoors: nothing. Utter, unimaginable, silence.

Until the generator goes on!

But there have also been sounds of laughter. Of a fire in the grate, of games played, of a Kazoo Band, and of 30 year old cassettes wallowing on my 30 year old tape player. (“Turn it off, Mom! It’s creepy!”)

And then there was the sound of tree limbs tearing, of thunder smashing right overhead, of a little girl learning to tie her shoes, running to tell Daddy when he walked in the door and his exclamations of pride.

Yes, I will look back on this with tears and smiles someday.

Someday.

PS – I will have photos for you – probably more than you could ever hope for – as soon as I can. I’m sure I’ll write more about it, too. There is so much to process – to think through and put into words – I know I’m not yet finished.

It’s Easter…and I Have a Few Opinions

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Here in Worthington, Minnesota, we have 17 churches that I am aware of. That’s 17 churches for, what, 13,000ish people? Not a bad ratio.

By contrast, I grew up in a town of about 3,000, on an island where there were only two church options: the Catholic/Episcopal church (which shared the premises but never the services) and Orcas Island Community Church (OICC) where everyone who wasn’t Catholic or Episcopalian spent their Sunday mornings.

Oh, and there were several cults/theosophical societies/new age communes as well, but I didn’t know much about them…other than whenever the Polarity Institute kids walked into a room, you knew it. They all smelled like garlic.

Having just three church options meant that there were a lot of different faith backgrounds represented in the congregation at OICC. People couldn’t just drive on over to the next town for church…the ocean was in the way! So, if you wanted to go to a Lutheran church, for example, you had to get in the ferry line for the Red Eye on Sunday morning, wait…and wait…then ride the ferry for an hour and twenty minutes, drive to your church of choice…drive back to the ferry line…wait…and wait…get back on the ferry, etc., etc.

Very few people were willing to do this.

SO…they came to OICC.

I LOVE that I grew up non-denominational. Yes, the church was probably more Baptistic than Lutheran in style, but not until I moved off of the island after 9th grade, did I even know what that meant. I remember facing church choices with my parents when we moved to Bend, Oregon. They were debating the merits of the Nazarene Church, the Baptist Church, the Free Church…and I had no idea what they were talking about. We ended up at a church plant that met in the middle school. Yes, it was non-denominational.

I’m not “dissing” denominations – I attend a denominational church now and I’m quite happy there, but I do want to challenge the notion that FOREVER AND EVER I WILL BE A BAPTIST/LUTHERAN/REFORMER/COVENANTER/METHODIST/WHATEVER. Denominations have their place, but what I care more about is whether or not Christ is preached and whether or not the people in the church are being challenged to grow in their relationship with Jesus.

It’s Easter…and that’s what I’m thinking about. Not cute little bunnies and marshmallow peeps. Not the “Baby Jesus” who is safe and easy to reference. But Christ, in all his bloody glory, giving His life for mine.

Thank you, God, for your indescribable gift. (II Corinthians 9:15)

King Turkey Day Extraordinaire!

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When I moved to Worthington 15 years ago, there were several things that I had to adjust to. No, I’m not talking about the prairie or the weather or the figures of speech. Not this time.

This time I’m talking about things like King Turkey Day.

That’s right. King Turkey Day.

LOVE this.

Love, love, love this.

I have always enjoyed a good parade. There’s something patriotic about parades – no matter what country you’re from, the nation’s colors show up, national anthems are sung, politicians may even be present. The Turkey Day parade is no exception. Now, I admit, I do not fully participate in the King Turkey Days activities – and yes, I probably should. I have not tossed frozen turkeys, had a beer in the hallowed tent, or shaken the hands of the “other” guys from Cuero, Texas. Those things may be in my future, who can say. But I have, often, attended the parade. All two+ hours of it. And let me say, for someone who isn’t from here – and who, therefore, isn’t seeing hundreds of old acquaintances, returned home for the festivities – not to mention the fact that I don’t exactly love crowds – I feel like just being there is an accomplishment.

How great is this?!

Gotta love a little princess. Especially when riding on a Wood Duck.

This year, for the first time, I had the fun to actually being IN the parade. I had thought that I would be hidden away in the vehicle that pulled the Girl Scout float. I was wrong. I got to walk the parade, even though I never was a girl scout and I wasn’t even wearing the correct colors. I got to pass out boxes of cookies (“No, you can’t have one. You’re a teenaged boy, not a little girl!”) and I got to see the smiles on the faces of the wee girls as I handed them a whole box of cookies!! This was way more fun that I imagined it would be.

Waiting for the parade to begin…the wind, while a blessing for keeping us cool, was a bit crazy at times!

Two of our town’s lovely Girl Scouts!

Ok, so occasionally I gave out cookies to non-little girls. Ryan, the editor of our Daily Globe, was a fellow-thespian two summers ago and he just needed some cookies. And he has a daughter…so that’s my justification.

Let me back-up a little. Many of you know – but many of you do not – what being in the parade entails. It means you arrive at 12:45 or so for a parade that begins at 2:00. It means that, even though the parade begins at 2:00, you still have to stand around waiting your turn until almost 4:00 if you’re float number is 107, as ours was. It means that you drink bottles and bottles of water and that you kick yourself for not putting on sunscreen – and praise yourself for forcing it on your kids.

I love listening to these guys!

My husband enjoys these vehicles…I can’t even remember what they’re called, but they are kind of a hoot when they race around in circles…

Hanging out in the waiting line also means that you get to see all of the other floats pass your way. This is very fun and establishes camaraderie the likes of which I hadn’t seen since summer camp. It also makes for a lot of tired girl scouts. It also means that I had to miss my son in the middle school marching band because, like I said, I was stuck way back at #107 and he was #15. Bother. I heard the dulcet tones of Star Wars drifting to me on the wind once, at least, and that was fun.

Okay, so right up front I’ll tell you that this is a photo from last year’s parade, since, like I said, I couldn’t see the band this year. But it’s a fun shot. Even though we probably weren’t supposed to holler at him to look at us…

It also means that I missed seeing the turkeys race. Missed seeing Worthington’s turkey get beaten by Cuero, Texas’s turkey as they raced down mainstreet. Yes, I said raced. The turkeys race. If you’ve never seen turkeys race each other, relax, because I haven’t actually, either. The crowds are always so huge that I have never gotten a glimpse.

Here’s a parade entrant that I can’t help but be thankful for…though, to be sure, I hope to never know them better.

I also missed hearing the speaker. Missed my children gathering huge amounts of candy. (That was okay by me.) I was bummed to miss seeing the Worthington High School marching band, so am especially glad I saw them this summer. I also missed seeing local friends. I thought, erroneously, that I would see them all, that I would have the perfect vantage point. This is the dream of a novice. The view from the road, as I walked in the parade – passing the crowds on every side – is very different from the crowd’s view.

One girl scout watched me taking this picture and she said, “Did you get a picture of that pretty girl in the beautiful dress?” Yes, yes I did.

When you are in the crowd, you see everyone in the parade or on the sidewalks and you say “hi” a million times. Walking the parade means that your vision is tunneled…yet also focused. I saw lots of little potential Girl Scouts…but only about two friends, and that was because one of them had a little girl and one of them had my son and he had to yell at me about five times before I heard him.

They may not have been looking at me…but, even better, they were looking at each other…

I have to admit that I agreed to be on the float because I didn’t have much choice. It was either that or I would be a schmuck. So I said yes, and resigned myself to it. But here’s the beauty of the thing: I really, really enjoyed myself. No, I don’t totally “get” King Turkey Day….but, for the first time, I really, really liked it.

The Music Man…and Me

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When I was young, my parents had a reel-to-reel tape player. Do you know the kind I mean? It was one of those giant machines that played reels of tape from one spool to the other, kind of like those movie reels when we were in elementary school – those educational films your teacher always needed the Audio-Visual guy to come fix when it flap, flap, flapped around the reel?

Only this one wasn’t a movie player, it was like a giant cassette player, only without the plastic holder for the cassette.

Okay, so my parents had this tape player, and it sat on top of their huge speakers in the living room, right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over Puget Sound. And, every so often, while I was playing with Lego or paperdolls on the living room floor, the giant tape player was turned on. Vivaldi, Bach, taped sermons of my grandfather, and a few musicals – The Sound of Music and The Music Man being my favorites – would fill the room with glorious sound, the sub woofers letting the entire neighborhood know that Harold Hill was, indeed, a bit of a cad.

It was hard to photograph them indoors…but here are a few images to inspire you!


Little did I know then that, years later, in a different state – and certainly a different state of mind – I’d be acting in The Music Man, playing a small part in my favorite reel-to-reel musical, and confirming that yes, Harold Hill remains my favorite bad guy…musically-speaking.

It helps that he’s being played by my husband.

Some of you know that I had a small part in last year’s community theater production of Beauty and the Beast. I stumbled my way through that show, proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that I was NOT born for the theater.

At the end of the show I was relieved, exhausted, elated, and, yes, a little sad. I was also uncertain if I’d ever want to do such a thing again.

An offended Marian, the quartet,Harold Hill, Mrs. Shinn.


And then along came The Music Man. Images of that old living room, that old reel-to-reel player came to mind and I couldn’t saw no. Besides, if I actually want to see my husband this summer I might as well be a part of the production. We decided to make it a family thing. That way I don’t have to get babysitters and we can spend our evenings together at the auditorium and all five of us can stay up late, be exhausted, relieved, elated, and a little sad when it’s over.

The library scene, where Harold falls on his watchamacallit. I do not like taking pictures from far away at night…but at least it gives you an idea.


We’re deep into rehearsals now. Deep into learning lines, moves, melodies. Deep into self-doubts and late nights. And, yes, deep into the fun. Even if the fun is punctuated by moments of tongue-biting, toe-tripping, self-incrimination.

I’ll definitely post more as the production draws nearer, but for now, please support the Worthington Memorial Auditorium by buying tickets – on sale now – and attending the show on at least one of the 6 performances, August 3,4,5 or 10,11,12. The auditorium is open from 9:00a.m. – 1:00p.m. daily and its phone number is 507 376-9101. It’s great to support not only local productions like this, but to support the actors – your friends in the community.

And, let’s face it, you’ll be able to laugh at me as I lurch, stumble, and warble my way across the stage. Oh, and I promise you’ll love my Grecian Urn costume. I’m the one in green. The one tripping and squeaking…and having a ton of fun.

Winthrop, Marian, Mrs. Paroo.

Midsummer Photos…

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Now that I take my camera with me everywhere, I have all these shots that need a story to go with them. Or, as is the case today, I just need to post them for everyone to see what I see. So…around the neighborhood this spring…

Enjoy!

Between the birds and the bugs we didn’t get a lot this year…but the few we did get (this was the largest picking of the season) were delicious!

How beautiful is this? Tuesday evening…just up the road from my house.

Our house is in there somewhere…hiding…

Ummm…correct me if I’m wrong, but are those cows on the wrong side of the fence? Along Iowa 9…

Taken somewhere between The Cities/Faribault/Worthington…

This is a common sight around here…just in case you’re not from around here to know!

I think I actually took this in Eugene, OR…but still, even if not local, it’s lovely!

Cormorants passing through the neighborhood. I think they’re so neat.

Taking flight…and a bonus white crane in the background!

At least some local apples escaped the frost…

The “vulture” that lives up the road.

Can you imagine coming across this on your drive home? Can you tell what it is? Scroll down for a closer look.

A closer view. Can you find his two friends behind him? They’re so small by comparison!

And an even closer view a few days later!

Missed It By That Much

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Now that my thought-life revolves around the question, “Can I blog about that?” I have gotten in the habit of carrying my camera with me everywhere I go. A lot of people in this day and age have their camera with them in the form of their cell phones. I am not one of those people. I have no cell coverage at home, so I have only a small flip phone without a camera, but that’s fine with me – I prefer a more serious camera, anyway. An intimidating camera that I don’t understand. But it takes way better photos than a cell phone…even if I don’t fully understand how to use it.

A couple of weeks ago, I learned this “have-my-camera-with-me-at-all-times” lesson the hard way. There was some sort of ice-fishing contest out on Lake Okabena in the middle of Worthington, MN, and a gazillion ice houses – along with their owner’s pick-up trucks – were out on the lake. More than I’d seen in the 14.5 years I’ve lived here. It was a better ice house village than in the Grumpy Old Men movies. It was begging for a blogger to photograph it for all my non-Minnesota readers.

But, alas…I was cameraless.

This made me think of other shots I have missed over the years. I have missed eagles (I adore eagles). I have missed old barns (I love old barns), I have missed events with my kids, surprise parties, and beautiful sunsets. I missed an amazing moon the other day.

But there are two shots in my life which still make me weep for the missing. Ironically, for both I actually had my camera with me but was unable to act quickly enough to snap the photo.

First, when I was in France with my mother when I was in high school, she and I took a bus ride to Chartres Cathedral. Yes, the cathedral was amazing…gorgeous blue stained glass, all the cool stuff in ancient cathedrals, etc., etc. But that’s not what I missed.

What I missed was through the window of the bus as we drove away. The bus paused – but not for long enough – on a bridge over the river which flows through the town where Chartres is located. Off in the background was the cathedral – like a magnificent castle on the horizon – and, a little way down the river from where we were stopped was another bridge – an old, stone bridge – and there, floating on the river in front of the bridge, was a swan. The cathedral, the stone bridge, the swan: forever in my memory, but never on film. It was truly a fairy tale moment.

The second fabulous (but missed) photo in my life happened as I traveled from college at the University of Oregon, to visit my sisters in Washington State. I took the train – something I only did the one time – and we were approaching the city of Kelso, WA. There, out the window for everyone to see, was a dilapidated old house (almost buried in blackberry brambles) in an overgrown field. More blackberry bushes surrounded the field, and a horse was eating grass off to the side of the house. But there was another horse there, too. And he was walking in the door of the ramshackle house. Walking in the door…as sure as if he lived there (which perhaps he did). The horse. The old house. The blackberry bushes. Fabulous.

I almost killed myself, reaching for my camera. But the train flew by and the opportunity was gone.

There is one last missed shot, though this one was not my own. My dad, who for many years was a semi-professional photographer on Orcas Island, missed this one. He and Mom were heading into town from our home on the north shore of the island. They turned the corner toward town, and there, running down the center of the country road was the entire high school football team, completely suited up with uniforms, pads, and helmets, chasing a herd of cows off of their practice football field. Sounds like a National Geographic picture about a story of small-town America, doesn’t it? But, sadly…no camera.

I am including no photos in this post. I mean, really…how could I do otherwise?

Oscar the Slouch

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Wouldn't you love to receive a cute hat in this cute packaging in your swag bag?

When the Academy Awards air this Sunday night, Sheri Hall will be paying special attention. Not because she is up for an award, or because she has any sort of stake in the outcome, but because, for the first time in her life, she has a connection with Oscar.

Oscar the Slouch, that is.

Oscar the Slouch - for girls!

Sheri knits hats, her newest design being “Oscar the Slouch”. When I say “knits hats”, I mean that it is what she does from sunup to sundown virtually every day. “One of the best things,” Sheri says, “about my knitting habit, is that I can take it everywhere. That is also one of the worst things.” But it is that dedication of her time and her talent that has brought Sheri where she is today, anticipating that her “Oscar” hat is making an appearance in 100 “Swag Bags” for certain members of the press, as well as the presenters and nominees of this weekend’s 84th Academy Awards.

Sheri Hall - in a photo taken by her daughter, a photography student in college.

That’s right: she had to make 100 hats – plus one for display – and every single one of those famous people we’ll be watching up on stage will have the opportunity to get one. Sheri admits that she got slightly bored, making the same hat over and over, but she says that changing the colors – and, of course interesting movies from Netflix – kept her focused and entertained.

A pile of Oscar hats for the Oscars!

Sheri began her knitting business on http://etsy.com, which is a well-known and respected web site for vintage and handmade items. Sheri didn’t even know how to knit until, seven years ago, while working at Main Street Kids in Worthington, Minnesota, she was inspired by a co-worker’s knitting skills. She says she loved it from the start, but that it took a little practice before she really knew what she was doing. Soon, “like every beginner knitter, everyone I knew received scarves or a dishcloth. Then I moved onto hats…baby hats. They are just so much cuter and faster than adult hats.” It was this obsession with making baby hats that led her to Etsy.


“I found myself looking on Etsy at all the cool things people were making and I thought, ‘Hey, I need to give this a shot and at least see if I can support my knitting habit.’” So, in June 2009, Sheri opened Oops I Knit it Again (http://OopsIknitITagain.etsy.com or http://www.facebook.com/#!/OopsIKnitItAgain). She remembers how excited she was when she sold her first hat. Then, by the end of the first week, she had sold five or six more. Her business has steadily grown since then.

This is not the first business that Sheri has begun. While living in Worthington, she and her business partner and friend, Jackie Johnson, ran “Re-Find” together up until Sheri moved out of town. That business background helped her know what she was getting into with Oops I Knit it Again. Knitting, however, is a skein of a slightly different color.

Now, working at home and being self-employed, she has discovered that there are perks and dangers. One perk: you can knit in sweatpants. One danger: skeins of yarn have threatened to take over Sheri’s house. Sheri’s family, however, has risen to the occasion. Phill, Sheri’s husband of 22 years, is now the main cook of the family. Sheri knows she couldn’t do what she does without him. “My wife is one of the most original, creative persons that I know,” Phill told me. “She never ceases to amaze me.”

Their children, Cody – a junior in high school – and Caitlin – a freshman at Hennepin Technical College, where she studies photography – have also been great about lending a hand. “I think one of the biggest changes [that the business has brought her] besides having a little extra money, is that it has changed how things are done around the house. My husband and our two kids have really had to step up and pitch in and do whatever needs to be done.” Though, she laughs, to the casual observer, “It probably looks like I’m just sitting around watching television and knitting while they do all the work.”

Though Sheri can make a simple hat in 15 minutes, some take her up to two hours. “Some nights I stay up really late just because that is a time I can actually get knitting done without interruption. I believe my all-time record in one day was 23 hats. I don’t think I can ever beat that record!” She does have a couple dependable knitters she can call on in extremely busy times – like Christmas – but she doesn’t necessarily see her business expanding to other full-time workers, at least not in the near future. She would like to branch into adult hats someday, but for now just does not have time. “I wouldn’t mind having more time to design and write up some patterns. Right now there are some things no one else can make because I haven’t had time to write down the pattern so it would be fun to develop some of those other aspects of the job.”

I asked Sheri about her inspiration as she creates new patterns and designs. “I never really know for sure what will inspire me or when I am going to be inspired for a new design. I tend to be most inspired by color. I can drive by any random object and see different color combinations and my thoughts now go straight to, ‘that would be a cute hat’! I try to stay away from what everyone else is making.”

The “Oscar the Slouch” hat is one of those patterns that is not written down. In fact, she developed the design specifically for the Oscar Awards. Sheri has more unique pieces, too, many of which are bought by photographers worldwide (as well as locally) to be used as props and “costumes” for their clients. Selling on Etsy means, of course, that her clientele is not limited to Grand Rapids, Minnesota, the place that Sheri now calls home. “One afternoon in 2010 I got an email from a set designer who was working on the Smurf movie, asking if I could overnite a pom pom blanket and a hat to the set location in New York because they needed it for filming the next day. Of course I said ‘sure’ and then we frantically made the blanket and got it sent out and then waited until this last summer to see if it even made it in the movie! It did!”

Not long after the movie, Sheri got an email from a magazine. They wanted to use one of her hats on their cover. Then, this last summer, she got an email from the founder of “The Artisan Group” (http://the artisangroup.com) which is, “a juried group of artisans that provides handmade gifts for celebrity award show gift lounges and celebrity gift bags.” Sheri says, “I didn’t think too long about that opportunity before I accepted!”

“I will be gifting some members of the press at the MTV awards later on this spring. We do not get paid to do the bags, in fact, it costs us money! But it’s really all about advertising, so I decided to go for it. I also have 30 items going in Mothers Days gift bags for celebrity moms including Hilary Duff, Kim Kardashian and Beyonce! I was also recently chosen to put an item in a special gift bag that will be going to Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes and their daughter Suri!” Sheri says that most of the celebrities who have gotten her hats have gotten them through gift bags, though she added, “I sold one to Jennifer Garner, but didn’t have the guts to ask if she was THEE Jennifer Garner. I thought that would be rude.”

One of Sheri’s customers, excited about Sheri’s rising fame, called up KSTP TV (an ABC News affiliate) in Minneapolis, and suggested that Sheri would make an interesting story. Jason Davis and a film crew showed up at Sheri’s house a couple weeks ago and they are expecting to air her story on Sunday after the Academy Awards, and then again on the noon news on Monday. I asked Sheri – who was my neighbor when we both lived in Worthington – if all of this fame is going to go to her head. “Well I really don’t feel that famous or anything! The day Jason Davis called me and asked to come do an interview, I was sitting in my living room in sweats and I’m not sure if I had finished my hair or my makeup and I was thinking, ‘I’m pretty sure if you could see me now you wouldn’t be thinking I was famous.’”

A still from Sheri's KSTP interview.

Sheri never expected her work to be on the cover of a magazine, or in a movie, or in the swag bags at the Academy Awards or to be making hats for Beyonce’s baby. I think that’s part of the fun now – to see how far this knitting hobby has taken her. Shows like the Academy Awards are all about stories – big-screen stories – and Sheri’s story, while not on the silver screen, is making a lot of people very excited for their friend.

She’s making her customers happy, too. And that’s nothing to slouch at.