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I hadn’t been to northeast South Dakota for about 14 years and had forgotten how much water there is, which makes it a great place for fishing. My cousin Abby caught so many fish today that I lost count. My count was easy to remember, but not memorable. Zero. Hey, at least I tried. Nevertheless, it was a relaxing weekend with two aunts & uncles, cousin, mom and grandparents.
I was excited to see several pods of pelicans, and even moreso, that they didn’t “gift” anything to me.
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Barbecues, a summer fire and s’mores. Doesn’t get much better than that.
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My cousin Karen graciously agreed to help me out with today’s blog quest and was patient as I practiced taking portraits. I’m excited for her to begin college at Iowa State this fall, though I will miss regularly seeing her infectious smile, learning her foodie nutrition tips (she plans to study dietetics), the occasional run (she’s much faster), and hanging out with an all-around fun cousin.
I almost started laughing when my friend’s daughter posed for this photo with her special talent. Too cute. I took the prerequisite smiling photo (below), but I think this one’s more fun. It was rainy so we retired inside and pretty soon, I was testing out their newly acquired piano, which incidentally was the first acoustic piano I’ve seen with fewer than 88 keys.
Before long, Maureen was playing along on the flute. [We first played music together for the Notre Dame MBA “dorm Masses” almost seven years ago.] Then Adam and Maureen’s two daughters wanted to join in the fun, so they raced to find and dance in their pink tights and tutus. We had a full-on recital, complete with musical introductions and recorded by Adam for posterity. It was serious, and at times, seriously funny.
Earlier, I began the day with a morning brunch in Wicker Park with my friends Erin and Drew. I love visiting this neighborhood with its quirky charm, great restaurants, and 6 corner intersection of Damen Ave, Milwaukee Ave, and North Ave. I can pretend to be a trendy hipster, if only momentarily.
The day ended in Naperville with Giordano’s pizza, storytelling, wine and dancing with friends who are much better bowlers than me. At least it can be said that my points contribution to the old team was consistent. After all, I’ve never claimed bowling as my special talent.
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My friends Anne and Michael married in Chicago on Friday night. It was a beautiful wedding and a fun reunion (for me) of friends and former colleagues all day long. From McDonald’s breakfast at the Arch to a midday lunch with a buddy at Miller’s Ale House, the wedding and reception in Tinley Park, and a late night happy hour at Brick House, it was a full day. A day filled with joy, radiated by two friends who now begin their life united as one.
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When I moved to Minneapolis, I was surprised by the number of people who use public transportation to get to the office. It’s a good thing. As a result, people in business attire are often found dotted across Metro Transit stops downtown as they wait for a ride home.
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It’s funny how time changes your perspective. I love attending the annual Festival of Nations, where ethnic food from 35 countries, folk artisans, and entertainment combine over a four day weekend in St. Paul, Minnesota. I sampled empanadas, arepas and chorizo from Colombia, a caramel apple crepe from France and kolaches from Czech Republic. While everything tasted quite good, in the last decade since I first attended the festival, I’ve either had the privilege of trying those treats in their respective countries, or I had an enormous swath of ethnic restaurant to choose from in Chicago. Once exotic foods like Hungarian, South American, Indian, Thai, Nepalese and Lebanese are no longer Greek to me.
I most enjoy the performances by students and adults alike who are proudly sharing their music and culture. It reminds me that each of us has a rich history and heritage, which make the world a more interesting place. And, that’s something to celebrate.
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There’s always a surprise or two every time I walk on Nicollet Avenue. Today was no different. Who knew I’d witness Morris dancers celebrating May Day and the onset of spring—a 500 year-old folk tradition from England that has roots here in Minnesota. With bells strapped to their shins, the Bells of the North enthusiastically sang, danced and clacked sticks along with accordion music to mark the change of the seasons. A pleasant surprise, to be sure. And even more so when I learned my coworker’s mother-in-law is a member of the The Bells, which was founded in 1979!
See a photo gallery from Minnesota Public Radio. See below for a video clip from last year.
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I spent the past six years of Easter weekends in South Bend or Chicago with adopted friends and family, so it was nice to be home. My mom created some amazing additions to the Ukrainian egg display, which reminded me of my 4-H demonstration when I was 10 years old, “How to Decorate a Ukrainian Egg.”
I’d decorated a Purple Ribbon winner egg or two in the past, but I waited until the night before the county fair to prepare my demo. It was not a pretty experience and should have been a sign to cancel the whole thing off. But the show went on. And what a show it was.
One of the decorating steps involves using a syringe to extract the yolk and egg white. And, that’s exactly when my demonstration began to crack. Literally. Sometimes you end up with a cracked eggshell and must start over, so I was prepared with extra eggs. Of course, the first one broke. And the second. And the third. At this age, my young mind was not yet filled with foul words, and I explained these mishaps by saying “Oh bummer,” “That happens,” and “I’ve got more.” I was so determined to get it right. Wouldn’t you know that the fourth egg shattered too? And the fifth! Damn eggs.
At this point, I must have thought the only way to salvage a demonstration gone awry is to turn it into a comedy show. I may or may not have sabotaged my demo by squeezing the hell out of the sixth and last egg. Just for fun. I don’t remember exactly, but I do remember that The Show Must Go On! It was then, my dear readers, that I finished my demo with an imaginary egg. Can you even imagine?
When the results came in, I learned I’d received a Yellow ribbon. In 4-H, that’s a courtesy ribbon. It means “Thanks for trying” or “Better luck next time.”
And that’s the story of the time I got egg on my face.
Grandma C.
Grandma P., Grandpa P. and Mom
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