Addendum to Sunday's Blog Post

Apparently my memory isn’t as good as I think it is. Actually, I don’t think it’s all that great so I guess what I should say here is, once again my memory has failed me.

I said in Sunday’s blog that my son, Paul, was not in the air on September 11, 2001, but I was wrong. He landed a plane that morning right about the time the events of that day started taking place. I guess that since I was able to contact him later in the day I just focused on the fact that he was safe and at home and not that he’d been in the air while other planes were being hijacked.

Paul wrote a great article about his perspective from that day that was published in Sunday’s edition of the Star Tribune. I’d invite you to read it by clicking here. I have to admit, it was a proud mommy moment for me yesterday.

Ten Years Later

Ten years. And yet, just yesterday, it seems, that the world heard the shocking news that our nation was systematically being attacked. I’m sure anyone over the age of ten remembers where they were when they first heard the news that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I had just finished drying my hair when the radio announcer told of the “accident.” It looked, he thought from his first glances, that it was a small commuter jet. By the time I arrived in the bedroom and turned on our television images of the second plane hitting the Trade Center were on the screen. Only I didn’t know it was a second plane. I figured they had somehow captured the first plane’s hit and were replaying it. The whole scenario still seems unreal somehow; unless of course, it was your family member, friend, co-worker, or city that got hit.

It seemed strangely unnerving, that life in Minnesota was going on as usual. That morning I left the house and picked up my friend’s dad to take him for a radiation treatment in St. Paul. As he received his treatment, I sat in the waiting room hearing more news. Two more planes had crashed – all others had been ordered to land at the nearest airport. He and I, of course, talked about it on the way home though I’m sure I had nothing profound to say.

I arrived back at my house to a phone call from my dad – knowing I’d be safe, but wanting to hear for himself. He was actually on a plane in California, buckled in and ready to take-off, when everyone was asked to return to the terminal and then out of the building. My brother, too, had recently landed in Salt Lake City where he was to meet up with my dad to fly out east for a golf tournament. At that moment, on the phone with my dad, it all seemed too much. I lost it.

At some point I checked in with my own kids. Adam was at college – I assumed he was safe. Scott was in high school – not much danger there; at least not from suicidal terrorists. And Paul, well that was another story. He is a pilot and I never really know where he is unless I’m with him. Thankfully, he wasn’t flying on that fateful day.

I also called my nephew to wish him a “Happy 3^rd Birthday.” Like I said, life seemed unnervingly normal.

I had it easy on September 11, 2001; I knew, or could find out quickly, that my family was safe. For others, there would be waiting; some would wait for hours, some for days and others for weeks. And many, too many, would never see their family members, or friends, again.

There are two images from 9/11 that will forever stick in my mind. Of the thousands of images that have been shown over the years, I find it odd that only two have emblazoned themselves into my brain. The first image is that of President George Bush sitting in the classroom reading to a room full of students and hearing the news from an aide. What should have been a fun morning for the president quickly turned into a nightmare. I’ve often wondered how the horror of that moment was explained to those young students upon President Bush’s quick exit.

The second image that stays with me is of a man I’ll never know, running for his life away from the Trade Center, so covered in ashes that he was nearly unrecognizable. The terror on his face is one I hope never to know.

I’m sure you have your own memories from that Tuesday morning. It’s a day that changed the world and how we function in it. It was a day filled with loss. But, it was also a day when heroes were born; strangers became friends and neighbors helped neighbors; people discovered a strength they never knew they had, and we all realized that regardless of income levels, race, or status, every person is important. It’s a lesson I hope we don’t forget, but fear we already have.

To those who lost family or friends ten years ago my heart still hurts for you. I am praying today for your hearts. To those who still live with nightmares, I pray for you, too. And for those who, like me, were relatively unscathed that day, I pray we’ll never forget.

The MRI Experience

This morning I went in for my first ever MRI; Magnetic Resonance Imaging. I’ve had a sore shoulder for a few months and after trying chiropractic and acupuncture treatments, along with physical therapy, all with little or no success, it was time to pull out the big guns and see exactly what’s going on. My doctor suggested a MRI and thankfully, she suggested an open-sided MRI. Her exact words were, “You wouldn’t catch me inside one of those capsules.”

Now, I’ve had a few friends tell me about their MRI experiences and I must say I wasn’t too excited to follow in their footsteps. There are two main things that everyone mentioned; the extreme noise and having to lie still for an extended period of time. Well, we already know I don’t lie still very well. After my last little foray into a scan that required stillness I informed the doctor NEVER to do that to me again without a sedative. Though a different doctor ordered this MRI she was sympathetic to my restless leg syndrome issue and prescribed a Valium to be taken 30 minutes before the procedure.

Next, I needed to prepare for the noise issue. My friend who’d recently had an MRI said it’s VERY loud and that they had offered her headphones with music. She assured me that I’d want the volume up quite loud to help drown out the noise. I thought to myself, “Well, I have an iPad. I can add some of my favorites songs and use that. And, I own some noise reducing headphones so I’ll just bring my those along. Easy peasy.” Except, it’s been so long since I loaded music onto my iPad that I forgot how to do it so staying up late to accomplish that goal was a total waste of time. Thankfully, there was already some music on there so I decided to just go with that. With that issue under control, I headed out the door at 8:45 this morning. (Do people just not work in the afternoon? Why do my appointments always require a wake-up time earlier than my norm?)

At 9:30 AM I took my little happy pill thinking that with a 9:45 AM show time the MRI won’t actually start until 10:00 AM. (A good guess, by the way.) Five minutes after taking the Valium, my friend who drove me (because they won’t let you drive yourself when you’re “under the influence”) and I visited the restroom before heading into the Imaging Center. After washing my hands, I wiped the excess water off of the counter with my paper towel and then THREW IT INTO THE SINK! I’m sure they’ll be happy I “tidied up” for them. Fortunately, I figured out the error of my ways and moved it to the trash can. Only five minutes in and I was already loopy. I looked at my friend and said, “Oh, this could get fun!”

Soon enough the technician called me back to start the procedure. I explained that I’d heard the machine was very loud so I brought my own music and headphones; would that be o.k.? She then explained that the magnetic field on the MRI machine was quite strong and would, in essence, turn my iPad and headphones into worthless pieces of junk. Hmmm. . . good point. BUT, she also assured me that the open sided MRI wasn’t as loud as the closed capsules, and I could choose any FM station I wanted or choose between a couple of CD’s. I went with the local Christian radio station. The way I figured it, if there was ever a time I’d need a little encouragement, this would be it.

I got ready and laid down on the table as the tech explained to me everything that would happen. Now here’s the great part; the whole thing was a piece of cake. She got my shoulder all lined up and told me to try not to move that area, or any part of my body while the machine was running, but she’d give me time between “pictures” to move my legs and scratch my nose (which ALWAYS seems to start itching at the exact moment I hear the words “don’t move.”) The longest period of time I ever had to hold still was 6.5 minutes. Had I known that I could have skipped the Valium.

There was some noise to be sure. When it first started I’d hear this sound which mimicked a rock band warming up and then a “boing” or two followed by something akin to a jackhammer working in the distance but none of it was so loud that it was bothersome. I actually found the “boing” a bit humorous and almost started laughing, but that would, of course, cause movement.

During the last two rounds of pictures, I actually fell asleep. Thankfully, the jolt I experienced as my snoring woke me up didn’t blur the picture.

After I was all done, and putting my shoes back on I asked the technician how this whole MRI deal works. She started talking about magnets, radio frequencies and hydrogen protons at which point she lost me. Maybe without the Valium it would have been easier to concentrate – but I doubt it. We both agreed that whoever invented it was both very smart, and is now, most likely, very wealthy.

And, of course, I got a picture.

If you ever end up needing an MRI, do not fear; but ask for the open-sided one, and leave the earphones at home.

Perfect Minnesota Night

When it's not blazing hot and humid . . .

or raining bucket loads of water . . .

Minnesota is a pretty nice place to live. Saturday afternoon John and I decided that we should do something . . . anything really . . . to get off our keisters and out of the house in which we've been held captive this summer. So, after great discussion, a nap, and more discussion we decided to pack a picnic dinner and go to the Lake Harriet Bandshell. Oh my! The "people watching" was comparable, and way cheaper, than at any airport (which always presents with some amazing people watching opportunities.) It might have even been better since no one was particularly stressed, which can often be the case in an airport.
We arrived around 6:30 PM (all that napping and dinner packing kind of delayed our start time) and sat on the edge of the sidewalk overlooking the marina.

As soon as we sat down the ducks and fish were right at our feet begging for food. I don't believe I've ever had a duck actually look up at me before. Once they realized that John was the only one throwing food, they left me alone. I'm not sure ducks and fish like Larabars and yet, they were fighting over them. I suggested to my generous husband, who isn't all that fond of Larabars, that said bar might not be appropriate duck food, but then again, the kids down the way were throwing them popcorn and how much better can that be?


As we sat there enjoying our dinner (the parts we weren't feeding to the ducks) John looked at me and said "Isn't this fun?" When I agreed he said, "Happy Anniversary." That man sure knows how to get the most bang for his buck . . . or thinks he does.

There was lots to see around the marina. We watched families sailing. Personally, I think sailing looks like a lot more fun than it actually is, but John was soon dreaming up ways to rent a sail boat.


I love the buildings at Lake Harriet. John is particularly fond of the fact that there is ice cream available inside.

And, even in the shade, the flowers were beautiful.

But the real fun began once the music started in the bandshell. The band was called Marimba Africa. They produced some pretty decent music which got the more ambitious in the crowd up and dancing. The ability to dance wasn't a prerequisite. People of all ages were dancing. School age kids . . .


Babies . . . though this one was escaping from her mom as much as she was dancing.

And, the not so young. (Dance partners were optional.)


And then there were those with hula hoops. (And pretty decent at it.)

Everyone was having a great time. Even the dogs.

Lots and lots of dogs. (These two were deep in discussion - let's assume.)

You see what I mean - great people (and animal) watching. Oh, and best of all, other than $1.50 for two hours of parking (and heaven knows how much for John's ice cream cone) - it was all free. Which, at the end of the night, left us happy.

I hope you enjoyed our little "Saturday night date" photo tour. Probably not my most exciting blog ever, but then again, what else am I going to do with all the pictures I took?

Great Way to Start the Day

Do you ever have moments where something from the deep recesses of your past pops into your mind? This morning I had one of those moments. I was just waking up, noticing the glimpses of sunlight peeking around my window shade when the words to an old hymn took over my thoughts. “When morning gilds the skies my heart awaking cries: May Jesus Christ be praised!” What an absolutely fabulous way to start the day – praising God!

The early (or not SO early) morning song in my head sent me to the computer to be reminded of the rest of the words from this 19^th century hymn. I actually found many versions; not all with the same lyrics but the general theme is the same through all of them. In every situation, good or bad, praise be to Jesus Christ. What a great truth.

Just as the song had popped into my head this morning, another memory poked its way into my brain as I read the words to this great hymn of faith. I recalled being at church, standing next to my grandfather who was, by then, quite a bit along in years. Like this hymn, the one we sang in church that morning had several verses. As I stood there, holding my hymnbook, Boppa leaned over to me and said “I don’t sing songs with more than three verses.” With that he closed his hymnal and put it back in the rack. You don’t have to dig very deep in the gene pool to figure out from whom I get my forthrightness.

Just read the words to this beautiful hymn. What a beautiful reminder to offer praise to the One whom it is due; in everything . . . at all times.

When morning gilds the skies my heart awaking cries:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Alike at work and prayer, to Jesus I repair:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Whene’er the sweet church bell peals over hill and dell,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
O hark to what it sings, as joyously it rings,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

The night becomes as day when from the heart we say:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
The powers of darkness fear when this sweet chant they hear:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Ye nations of mankind, in this your concord find,
May Jesus Christ praised!
Let all the earth around ring joyous with the sound,
May Jesus Christ praised!

In Heav’n’s eternal bliss the loveliest strain is this,
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Let earth, and sea and sky from depth to height reply,
May Jesus Christ be praised!

Be this, while life is mine, my canticle divine:
May Jesus Christ be praised!
Sing this eternal song through all the ages long:
May Jesus Christ be praised!

I found a sing-along version of this song on You Tube; a hymn karaoke, if you will. There were loads of versions to choose from, but I picked this because of the pictures. As you know, I'm big on pictures. And, Boppa would probably put up with this one; it only plays four verses.

News that Lifts Your Spirit

It has been over 10 years since I quit watching the nightly news. I did so deliberately. Simply put, it was more than I could take. I’d find myself depressed after hearing stories of children being kidnapped and tortured, tsunamis wiping out entire villages, crazy men with guns going on a rampage and the like. When my mind was being filled with that kind of news on a constant basis it gave me a grim outlook on life.

I’m not totally uninformed, mind you. I do hear the news stories on the radio (somehow it’s easier to hear them than see them), and of course there is Facebook. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen breaking news hit Facebook almost faster than it hits the local news websites (which where I go to check out the Facebook scoops.) So, I’m not uninformed, I’m just probably not as informed as say, my husband, who is a news junkie.

The other issue I have with the news is that I believe it incites copycat behavior. It’s the old input/output thing. When you fill your mind with bad, bad is most likely to come out. When you fill your mind with good, good is most likely to come out. Call me naïve but that’s what I believe. (Rhyming unintended.)

So, I’ve come up with what I believe to be a million dollar idea. And, because I can’t do everything myself, I’m offering it free to any producer that would like to run with it. Why not have a news program filled with news that lifts your spirits? It could focus on stories such as a church group traveling to Haiti to help victims of the earthquake; or kids taking their Saturday to paint a house for an elderly couple in need; or someone getting a group together to pack care packages for our soldiers. The list could go on and on. There are tons of people doing some incredibly amazing things; many of which go unnoticed.

This type of program would obviously not be free of news about bad things. It would be hard to show people caring for those devastated by the recent bombing/shootings in Norway without mentioning the incident. But that’s all it would have to be – a mention. Most people will already have heard about it and if they need more information on a situation all they need to do is tune into ABC, CBS, NBC, or FOX and they can get their fill.

I recognize that most every news show has a segment of two of “uplifting news” but it’s not enough; and by the time they show it, most people have fallen asleep, or moved onto other things. What we need is a program that will incite copycat behavior of the best kind. Give people ideas. Tell them how to hook up with a group to help. Promote kindness.

There you have it. These are the kinds of ideas that pop into my brain on a regular basis and try to tempt me into “doing it all” thereby leaving me exhausted and my family ignored. I’ll let you know when another idea comes up. In the meantime, someone run with this idea – please!

A Few of My Favorites

My mother called the other day and was wondering why there hadn't been any blog updates. Short story; I've been busy. So finally, I'm sitting down to write a quick update.

Here's the deal; I'm no longer going to be uploading my 365 Project photos to my blog. It bores me. And, if I'm bored, there's a good bet that you, my five readers are also bored. Uploading pictures is time consuming and it's not really why I started my blog. I hope you understand.

If you are interested in seeing my daily photos you can go to my 365 project site as often as you like. The web address is 365project.org/nana. Tip for my mom - mark it as a favorite and you can just click on the link each day.

But, I thought you might like to see some of the pictures that didn't make it to my 365 project. I've taken over 60o pictures in the past month or so. I'll try to narrow it down to 10 or less in this post. You're welcome.

Amelia met Charlie when she was about three months old, but I don't think she remembered. She seems to be wondering who this new kid is and if he could possibly steal a bit of Nana and Boppa's attention. No worries, baby girl, we've got plenty of love for both of you. (And many more - just saying.)

My Mom and Dad came for a visit in June. We celebrated two birthdays, their 60th wedding anniversary, Father's day and Amelia's baby dedication. It was a wild, busy, fun weekend. If I look like I'm crying in this picture it's because I was having trouble holding it together. The whole babies meeting their Great Grandparents thing had me a bit overwhelmed.


Two of my favorite guys.


Who could resist Charlie's smile? Certainly not his Boppa nor his momma, though I believe John is the bigger sucker. (Don't tell John that I posted a picture of his bald spot!)


Amelia is intent on grabbing the flowers for her baby dedication. She was moved to dad's other arm right after this picture was taken and before she could grab them and start eating; and before dad went into fits of laughter. He's famous for that.

The last weekend in June we went to a Swedish Festival with Erin and Amelia and bought Amelia her first doll - a Swedish doll. She loved it. She already has her Boppa wrapped around her baby finger. I could have told him I wanted to buy her a horse instead of a doll and he'd have said yes.


I have absolutely no idea who this little girl is but I think she is absolutely adorable. She was so proud of her doll with her same color eyes and same color hair. We met at Svenskarnas Dag - the Swedish Festival. I hear there is an Irish Festival later this summer. I suspect it's not quite as tame.


Amelia and Erin spent the 4th of July with us. We had a blast and in the evening we took Amelia out for a swim in her little pool. Let's see, a few gallons of water lovingly warmed by Boppa, changing a baby into a swimsuit, applying sunscreen, putting on the cool shades, all for 20 minutes in the pool - priceless! I titled this picture "Too Cool for the Pool." Love those legs!

Speaking of the 4th of July. The neighbors seemed to have spent a bit on fireworks this year. We thank them (although I'm not sure Erin appreciated them while she was trying to get Amelia back to sleep.)

Earlier this week, I went to a friend's cabin outside of Cumberland, Wisconsin. I love this photo of a water lily that my friend pulled out of the water while she was canoeing. Is that legal? If not, I know nothing, absolutely nothing!

O.K., I know I promised you only 10 photos but I just couldn't leave this last one out. It was my first attempt at the moon on the lake. It's not perfect, but was worth swatting the mosquitoes so that I could capture it.


As you can see, we're pretty smitten with our grand babies. Who knew it would be so much fun? As always, make some memories, take a few photos (you don't have to do 600) and enjoy the simple things in life. They are the best!