Monthly Archives: September 2013

Loud, Proud and Golden

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Why would anybody practice from 8:00 in the morning to 10:00 at night for 11 days in sweltering August heat before school starts (practice music, field drills, practice music, field drills, practice music, field drills, eat, sleep, and do it again the next day)?

Why would you lug around a heavy instrument—sometimes running, sometimes marching, a lot of times dancing—two hours a day, five days a week, and eight hours on game days?

Half-time

Half-time

Why would you get up at 4:30 a.m. on a Saturday so you can practice at 6:00 a.m.; perform in the parking lot for a dozen tailgaters at 8:30; join 319 of your best friends to sing, dance and play in front of a couple hundred people at 10:20; perform again in front of a thousand or so football fans at 10:40; play, march, and dance some more for a crowd that isn’t paying attention because half of them are leaving the stands to get a beer and a hot dog; and then take the field again at the end of the game to sing and play music while the fans are leaving?

Post-game--still going strong

Post-game–still going strong

Why would you wear an itchy wool suit with short pants and a goofy hat with a plume when it’s 60/88/33 degrees and sunny/humid/sleeting and chant stuff like, “Eat ‘em raw. Eat up the (opposing team name goes here). Eat up the guts. Spit out the bones. March on.”

Because of the sheer joy of playing music you like with people you like.

Because of the pleasure of getting 320 souls to move in unison and perfectly pivot a giant University of Minnesota “M” on a fake grass field.Screen Shot 2013-09-26 at 9.30.51 PM

Because it feels good to be part of something bigger than yourself.

Being in marching band isn’t exactly about school spirit, although that plays a role.

My favorite band geek

My favorite band geek

My favorite marching band geek tells me that after spending 500 hours a season with these people (marching, playing, hanging out, sharing a house, marching, playing) they’re your family. You may not like every one of them all of the time (and a few you won’t like ever, at all) but you love and depend on them. You’ve been through spat camp and freezing post-Thanksgiving games and bowl game trips with them. You’ve learned countless life lessons in band. He says, “There’s very little in life that’s quite the same as band and very little that will give me as much as this band has given me.”

Another way to see the Minnesota State Fair

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2013 MN State Fair

2013 MN State Fair

A few weeks ago, Ellen, wrote about her experience of the Minnesota State Fair.

Jody and I were not loyal fair goers until we had the children. Crystel’s birthday falls on September 4 and the State Fair soon became an activity that we incorporated into her birthday week.  You might expect that a middle-aged person and an 11-year-old girl see the State
Fair differently.  Because it is part of her birthday celebration, Crystel chooses what we see and the order in which we see it.

7-years old with his turkey leg.

7-years old with his turkey leg.

Over the years not much has changed. Aunt Amie continues to accompany us as she has done every year.

Since we often enter the fair from the west side the children’s barn is our first stop. Antonio and I skip it, using this time to get our turkey legs – regardless of the hour.

This year, Crystel stopped in the barn only long enough to snap a picture of a cow for Mama Beth, who grew up on a farm with 50 cows. The kids don’t understand the distinction between growing up on a farm and being born in a barn, so
they usually tell people the latter about their mother. . . and Jody doesn’t
correct them.

Butterfly garden at age 7

Butterfly garden at age 7

Even though Aunt Amie is a vegetarian she doesn’t scrunch up her nose at us devouring our humongous turkey legs.

Taking a right, we walk immediately to the Haunted House. I sometimes think the haunted house is the only reason we come to the fair.

Crystel has gotten big enough that she can no longer ride on Aunt Amie’s back digging her head into her shoulder blades so she can’t see what she doesn’t want to see. Now she’s progressed to walking next to Aunt Amie, though I can’t tell you what exactly happens inside the haunted house.  I am the keeper of bags, purses, and extra clothes who sits outside contentedly people-watching. What happens inside the haunted house stays inside the haunted house.

After ugly comes pretty. The butterfly garden is a must after the haunted house. Crystel’s yearly goal is to see how many butterflies’ she can get on her person.

Butterfly garden at 9-years-old. The hat is to draw more butterflies.

Butterfly garden at 9-years-old. The hat is to draw more butterflies.

This is cotton candy time for me and Antonio.

The Giant Slide is the first time that Aunt Amie and Jody get a breather. I grab a gunny sack and follow the children.

If our timing is right, there might be a dog show to see after the Giant Slide.

Nothing is better than your own bag of cotton candy.

Nothing is better than your own bag of cotton candy.

By now, we have eaten snow cones, corn dogs, deep fried cheese curds, deep fried battered vegetables, sweet corn, and Sweet Martha’s cookies. Time for the Midway and a couple of rides.

We have one last item to do before leaving the fair. That is to get Aunt Amie wet on the log chute. It’s not the State Fair if she goes home dry.

As you see we have not visited one educational building, saw not one piece of fine art, or watched any fair animals being judged. Maybe next year.

2010 State Fair

2010 State Fair

This year, I visited the State Fair like a child.

Trying on a New Lifestyle for Size

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My husband and I have been peeping in strangers’ closets. Opening drawers. Pulling aside shower curtains. Wandering in backyards. That’s what house hunters do.

Now that our nest is nearly empty, imagining a new urban life is fun. Can we embrace alleys? Funky one-car, unattached garages? Being able to see into our neighbors’ windows just across the way? Hear their TVs? I don’t know, but we’re trying to find out.

We’ll definitely enjoy being closer to the lakes and rivers that the Twin Cities are known for. Walking to neighborhood restaurants and coffee shops sounds good, too.

But it’s odd to step into these intimate spaces and glimpse the telling details of a stranger’s life:

One house has a small bedroom has a single bed with a flower power bedspread. A teal formal dress hangs from the closet door. Inside are classic black Converse sneakers. What does this teenage girl dream of when she lies in that bed—the homecoming dance? Wandering around a college campus in those sneakers?

In another house, there are two much loved cats. They have cat beds, food bowls, and water dishes upstairs and downstairs, so the kitties won’t have to go far for a drink and a snack. In the living room, two middle-aged women with their arms around each other smile out from what appears to be an engagement photo.

The next place we visit is across the river. The front door handle comes off in our hands and the backyard is full of weeds. The carpet is old and shabby and the bathroom has mismatched tiles. A motorized scooter sits in a corner of the kitchen. This place is sadder than the first two and looks like the owner was too ill or too tired to keep up with maintenance and yard work.

Another place we see has great landscaping and a newly remodeled kitchen and bath. It looks as if the family has out-grown the house. Upstairs is a pink little girl’s room with a large girl-sized decal of a purple My Little Pony on the wall.  She has her whole life ahead of her, but it will be in a new house.

We too have a whole new life ahead of us—maybe in a year or two it will be in one of these neighborhoods.  For now, we’re just trying on this lifestyle for size.

Big porch

Stucco w red door

No Running Water. No Electricity.

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189What to do. What to do. What to do. Fish and swim. Fish and swim. Fish and swim. Geocache. Hike. Have pizza in Grand Marias. Skip stones, bike, play games with cousins, canoe, learn to portage in the Boundary Waters, scare Jack. After making a safety circle use your Scout knife, start fires with or without matches, hunt for shooting stars and satellites in the night sky.

The adventurous group. Lightweights not allowed.

The adventurous group. Lightweights not allowed.

Our family recently went on our most rustic trip ever. To some of you, it will be pansy-like because we didn’t actually hike into the Boundary Waters but stayed outside of it at Crescent Lake Campground. Crescent Lake Campground is a Superior National Campground, 13 miles from Sawbill Canoe Outfitters.

My nephew and niece, Ralph and Tina Walker and her family would call us lightweights. They were surprised that this was our most rustic experience because they have been camping with their children, eight and six years old, since they could fit into a fanny pack.

Nephew Steve giving me fishing advice.

Nephew Steve giving me fishing advice.

We were fortunate to have Ralph with us (or unfortunate) because Jody and I would have chosen a campground with electricity and showers. Ralph is a minimalist guru. All he needs is swim shorts, string and a hook.

It was at the last moment, when he told us, “Oh by the way, there is no electricity and no water.” Immediately, I went into a panic. I had envisioned sitting in our tent trailer, plugged into my computer, safe from the elements (mosquitoes), deeply engrossed in revising my manuscript while others were off exploring.

There would be no plugging in anything. Not the crock pot, not the griddle, not the electric fry pan, and certainly there would be no fresh coffee brewing in the morning.

Andy taking off fish for Crystel and Antonio

Andy taking off fish for Crystel and Antonio

Electrical appliances are how Jody and I roll. Or, how Jody rolls. Because, as I was found out on this trip, Jody does all the cooking. My niece and nephews were a bit incredulous about this. “You let her do everything?” They asked me this as she was serving us the first round of bacon, eggs, pancakes, and coffee (though she doesn’t drink coffee).  I flinched, stumbled around in explanation, finally landing on, “Didn’t I choose well when I married her?”

As custom has it. Fish thrown back get kissed.

As custom has it, fish thrown back get kissed.

The Walkers and di Grazia’s own the tent trailer together. It’s fun when owning joint property with your relatives works out. Prior to leaving for the Boundary Waters, we decided (Beth decided) that it was best that the children, Antonio and Crystel, Jack and Andy, sleep in the tent trailer and the adults in tents. This may seem a bit lopsided. Shouldn’t the kids get the tents and the adults the castle?

Not if one of your children is Antonio. I was most concerned about us surviving him on this trip.

Superior Hiking Trail

Superior Hiking Trail

By the time we left for our no electricity and no running water camping trip, I was resolved to have a good time, regardless. The di Grazia’s would go off into the unknown and be of good cheer. Even Antonio.

My first and best purchase for our trip was fishing poles for Antonio and Crystel and a fishing license for me. I would need the license for taking fish off and putting nightcrawlers on when Andy the six year old wasn’t doing it for his cousins. Andy, as he declared several times, is an expert at fishing. By the end of our five-day trip, Crystel mustered the courage to take 3 small fish off her line. Antonio was content with the six year old doing everything for him.

swimming across the lake
swimming across the lake

Bears were a minor concern. We did all the right things and stored our food before going into our tents at night. Still, I had visions of Smokey crawling into my sleeping bag with me and woke Jody one night to tell her that. Once she was awake and watchful, I could sleep.

It can be a nice or not so nice experience when camping in a remote area with friends or relatives that you don’t spend much time with. I didn’t know Steve’s son Xavier prior to our camping trip. I found the thirteen-year old to be very pleasant.

Antonio and Crystel surviving the roughing it part.

Antonio and Crystel surviving the roughing it part.

Xavier became big brother, guardian, and protector to the 11, 10, 8, and 6 year old. He accompanied them swimming across the lake and when the adults escaped to Sawbill (Jody and I showered there), he stayed back. After swimming he gathered them in the tent trailer for card playing.

560847_10201948707418318_42800681_n[1]Although Ralph had a host of activities for us and planned our days and evenings, our group didn’t always stick together. The Walker’s and the Smith’s went on many more geocaches, hikes, and canoe trips than we did. That worked out. It is important to do what works for you.

On the day of the portage into the Boundary Waters, Antonio decided to stay back (he wouldn’t get out of bed). There

Xavier

Xavier

could have been many reasons for this, one being the last time he was in a canoe with me he didn’t fare well. After portaging, swimming, fishing, picnicking, and canoeing with our group, we split off. Jody and I wanted to return to Antonio and the adventurous group continued on.

Canoeing back to our portage, a moose and her baby were swimming across the lake. We were so close to them that as we sat in our canoe we could hear their breath blowing out their nostrils as they huffed their way across. It was simply amazing. Jody, Crystel, and I stayed still in our canoe until they climbed out of the water and walked into the woods.

Moose_with_baby.sized[1]No electricity, no water. There was so much to do.