Updates

A big thanks to my Aunt Bernadette without whom I would not be up past my bedtime (10:00) trying to think of something halfway witty to write. Your compliments made my day!


I would like to appease my wife's pleasant pleading and update this blog. In no particular order I present a few highlights of the past year.

This summer our family spent a good deal of time at my parents cabin in Deerwood, MN. This is a rustic and historical home circa 1900 once was inhabited by a well reputed local character and Colonel who fought in WW1. The house was also said to be an important fur trading post with the Ojibwa Indians of the Mille Lacs region.

Early this summer we had my father's Cousin Tom and his family visit from Georgia. We all went up north to the cabin and got to know each other a little better. Earlier in the year Tom's brother Bob (possibly my second cousin once removed... I never really understand how that works) died somewhat unexpectedly.

He was a great person and is well missed.

The underlying idea behind the family visit was to bury a portion of Bob's cremated ashes on the family property. This was presumably how Bob might have wanted it. Bob was an avid fisherman and weeks before he died he made plans to visit the cabin for some bass fishing. He even made plans to leave his small fishing boat with us as he found it too difficult to navigate such a small boat on his home-lake Michigan.
We decided on a tree planting memorial ceremony and chose a beautiful breezy summer evening. Each of us took turns with a shovel and dug a large hole where the ashes would be buried beneath the roots of the tree. With the hole dug we took turns emptying a small portion of Bob's ashes into the prepared ash-hole. Most people are not comfortable putting things into an ash-hole especially a family member's ash-hole; yet as I stood there on that summer evening it just felt right.

At one point during the burial our Greta was standing near the lakeside of the burial tree. Unfortunately this was downwind. As each person took their turn and carefully placed a portion of Bob back to the earth, the wind seemed to catch and carry an equally proportionate amount of him over the lake in a billowing cloud. A billowing cloud that consumed an amused Greta who gleefully exclaimed with deep lung filling breaths, "Mmm...this is beautiful and it smells great...like pita bread!" When next we have pita bread I wonder if she will think it smells like Bob. As Rachel Ray would so wittingly say, "Yummo". Yummo indeed Rachel Ray.

With Bob buried and without further incident, we passed around a can of very old sun ripened "lite" style beer that was salvaged from deep within an interior compartment of Bob's former fishing boat. We tentatively cracked it open with thoughts of botulism and dysentery dancing in our heads. This can looked old. As though he were watching over us at that moment and protecting us from afar in his little brew-pub in heaven, I'll be dammed if that beer didn't still taste good. We shared half the can among us, and tipped the last half to the earth for Bob. Yummo.

We went to Chicago again this summer for a little family vacation. Our good friend Trina worked at the time for the Four Seasons Hotel and was able to get us her Friends and family discount. If you ever want to know to your core what it is like to be middle class just stay at the Four Seasons. I felt so out of place that I had to pretend in my mind that I was some eccentric rich person who shopped exclusively at Target only because I am a primary shareholder and I am fat only because of my feelings about the carbon footprint of liposuction. Actually we had a marvelous time and saw Chicago in grand style. A highlight for me was the Architectural Riverboat Cruise. It was so cool to see the city from the river. Greta ate Escargot for the first time at a French restaurant called Mon Ami Gabi. (Yummo) She thought she was so cool keeping up with the big people. Later that night the hotel delivered an ice cream man up to the room to make the kids sundaes. Prince Charles and Princess Greta were on cloud nine.

We suffered a loss this summer as a friend of Greta's died tragically. His name was Tommy and he was a perfect little boy. Following is an excerpt from an e-mail sent out shortly after the incident. It is truly heartbreaking. [Tommy was swimming at a man-made lake near Lake Minnetonka and must have gotten in too deep and no one ever saw him go under. He was recovered from the water approximately 10 minutes later and was rushed to the emergency room via helicopter. The doctors tried to revive him for over an hour with no success. My heart aches to tell you that Tommy passed away on July 27th, 2007. He was just 3.5 years old. For those of you that don't know Tommy well... he was so strong, so full of life, could walk into a room and immediately make himself known, he has a beautiful head of blond hair and awesome blue eyes. He is an amazing little boy who is going to be so deeply missed by all.] Make a point of saying a prayer or two for them this Christmas season.

Liz's sister Bev was diagnosed with Cancer several months ago as was a good friend of the family Sydney Tritle. Bev is in recovery mode and she just had her last run of Chemo last week. We pray that they got it all! Sydney is just starting her treatment after several surgery's to remove malignant cells. Our thoughts and prayers are with both of you!

Liz did something really cool this fall. A year ago I bought her a intro flight package at Thunderbird Aviation in Eden Prairie. When we arrived at the airport the pilot greeted us and asked if anyone else wanted to fly along as a passenger. Greta promptly raised her hand and was escorted to the backseat of the small plane. Once they did the ground check they were up in the air for just over a half hour. The coolest part was that Liz got to take off, fly the plane, and was given the opportunity to land which she understandably refused. Greta was flown over the Renaissance festival and Liz tipped the wing down so that Greta could get a good view of all of those weirdos at the fair.

After the flight, we joined the ranks of weirdos at the Renaissance fair and spent the rest of the day people watching the strangest group of people Minnesota has to offer. For some reason the Renaissance Festival attracts people who are just dying to dress up and are totally confused about how to go about doing this within the confines of the specific dates that define the Renaissance. This year I saw three Harry Potters, two scary ninjas, some sort of Animé Bear and truckloads of inappropriate flesh that made me wish this were the Islamic Burqa Fair instead. The highlight of this year's fair was Charlie and the elephants. I had never noticed them in years past, but the kids seemed excited so we strolled on over to get a closer look. Charlie couldn't quite see over the railing into the pen where the elephants were walking, so I lifted him up and set him on the top rail. A huge elephant walked right over to Charlie and stared him down. Charlie didn't waiver and stared right back at the huge mammal and smiled. The elephant rose his great trunk and standing nose to nose he very gently, delicately, and deliberately squeezed Charlie square in the middle of his face. Charlie was delighted, and with his face now brown and green and dripping elephant mucus, all Charlie knew or cared about was that he was kissed by an elephant.