Free & Almost Free Autumn Events 2013 - Twin Cities

In June, I posted about FREE Family Summer Fun events for this year. I'm always sad to see the summer go because fun starts costing a whole lot more as the weather cools here in MN. On the other hand, Autumn is my favorite season. I feel most energized for the school year to start. I love the turning of the leaves, the cooling of the air, the hats and sweaters that start making their way out of the closet, apple cider, and the holidays...

In honor of my favorite season, I've begun compiling a list of the places we go, the things we do, and the resources for fun events in autumn that are in the free-$10 range. I've found that I have more resources that I thought I did, and I discovered a few more while I was digging for links to the "regulars."

Three Rivers Park District:
First, I comb through the event listings for the Three Rivers Parks. You can do a search for something you might enjoy (like apples or archery...). OR you can click on the "Activities" link at the top of the page and sort events by type of activity. OR you can just click on "Events" and read through the whole overwhelming list.

Of note: Silverwood Park's version of the No-Coast Craft-O-Rama on September 21st, family archery at several parks ($7/person), Applefest at The Landing ($5/person) and Folkways of the Holidays at The Landing ($5/person).

Non Fair Events Calendar:
Something new I discovered this year is the Non Fair Events Calendar for the MN State Fair Grounds. Did you know there are events having to do with horses, dogs, reptiles, cars, motorcycles, books, antiques, military relics and furniture?!! Most of these events have completely FREE admission. The one we're looking forward to: Fall Festival Arabian Horse Show.

Apple Orchards near the Twin Cities:
Of course, what would MN be without apple orchards in autumn?! Most have free admission. Many have free hayrides. Save your money for apples, berries, pumpkins, squash, jellies, pies, and honey! We are especially fond of the pick-your-own-pumpkins at Pine Tree Apple Orchard and the Scarecrow Festival at Emma Krumbee's.

Tripoli Minnesota High Power Rocketry Club: 
We had the best time just attending a rocket launch a few years ago! Since then, we've continued to discuss making our own rockets. Even if you don't make one, this is a totally fun family event to attend. Bring a cooler with snacks and drinks, picnic blanket, chairs, sun-brella, and enjoy the show!

Minnesota Historical Society:
Because we have a Minnesota Historical Society (MNHS) Membership, we also scroll through the events calendar for MNHS to see if there's anything we might like to attend. Several of the programs are discounted or free for MNHS members, and many are under $10/person for non-members.

Wild Rice Processing in Onamia (yes, it is a long drive, thank you) is completely free several weekends in September. Old School Minnesota Days at Fort Snelling over MEA weekend are completely free for MNHS members! The Oliver Kelley Farm offers Harvest Days over that same weekend and Christmas on the Farm in December. 

A word about museum memberships...
This is probably the place to say something about not-so-free things in the Twin Cities. Memberships to MNHS and the MN Science Museum can be lifesavers when you're going stir crazy in the winter. You will NOT run out of things to do, even if you go there once a week all through snow season, and you will certainly get your money's worth at that rate! Both museums have wide open spaces to move around and things touch and climb! It is totally possible to pack lunches to eat at either place. So, your total expense is your membership + parking. No need to purchase anything else while you're there. Parking is discounted for members at both museums.

Enjoy your autumn!!

FREE Family Summer Fun 2013 - Twin Cities and Beyond

It's that time of year again! There are so many things to do in our beautiful city over the summer and so many of them are FREE! I need a place to keep track of them all, and a blog post seemed like the natural place to write it all down and SHARE it, too!!

First and foremost, we headed out to our first Movie in the Park last night! We saw E.T.! So fun to see an old classic on the big screen! There are movies in the park EVERY night in Minneapolis. The inflatable mobile screen makes an appearance at a different park each night. Bring your picnic blankets and/or lawn chairs, snacks, drinks, and bug repellent! We tend to go early to appreciate the playgrounds, pools, splash pads or large fields for flying kites! Lots of kids come in pajamas with their pillows for an easy transition to bed once the movie is over.Check out the schedule here:

Minneapolis Movies in the Park 2013

If the movie of the night isn't your thing or it's too late at night for your kiddos, check out the Music in the Park schedule. Music happens every night at the Lake Harriet Band Shell (7:30PM), Mondays at Nicollet Island (7PM), Tuesdays at Father Hennepin Bluffs (7PM), Wednesday-Friday at Minnehaha Falls (7PM), and Tuesdays & Thursdays at Bryant Square (6:30PM):

Minneapolis Music in the Park 2013

Thursday nights you can head on over to see the Twin Cities River Rats waterski show! Find your seat on the banks of the Mississippi right off West River Road just south of Broadway Avenue. Most shows begin at 7pm. Concessions are usually available. Don't forget your camera! We like to go several times over the summer to watch the performance get better and better over the season:

Twin Cities River Rats

Like to DANCE with your music? Attend one of the Nine Nights of Music at the Minnesota History Center in St. Paul - Tuesdays, July 2nd-August 27th. Dance instruction by the Tapestry Folkdance Center begins at 6:30pm. Concerts are from 7-8:30pm. Each night features a different culture and style of music:

Nine Nights of Music

Ordway's Summer Dance Series also offers free dance lessons and live music at Rice Park in St. Paul on Thursdays beginning this week: June 13th-July 25th. Lessons at 5:30pm, Music at 7:15pm. This series has indoor venues in case of rain. Check out the website:

Ordway's Summer Dance Series

Cromulent Shakespeare Company presents free performances of Romeo and Juliet in various parks around Minneapolis and St. Paul every weekend in June. Friday and Saturday shows are at 7pm. Sunday shows are at 2pm:

Shakespeare in the Park

Open Eye Theatre's Driveway Tour offers puppet shows at parks throughout the city (and surrounding suburbs) all summer long. Performance times range from 10am-7pm. They are offering FOUR different shows this summer! Check it out:

Driveway Tour - Puppet Shows

As the summer winds down, Como Park and Conservatory offers free music, lawn games, bounce house & climbing wall on Wednesday nights - August - mid-September from 6-9pm. A number of other free special events are happening at Como Park. Check out the full schedule here:

Como Park Zoo & Conservatory Special Events

Is it raining or too hot to be outside? Check out:

Minneapolis Institute of Art (always free) or
Walker Art Center (free every Thursday night from 5-9pm and first Saturdays from 10am-3pm)

I like to look through the schedules and mark the movies & concerts we might like to see on my calendar. Then I know what's available if we happen to have free time that night.

Have a GREAT summer!

Lost and Found

We rode the city bus to Lifetime Fitness to go swimming. Mane and I chatted and ate snacks (yes, I know we're not supposed to eat on the city bus). Then we hopped off the bus when we got to our stop. No sooner had the bus driven away than Mane said, "Where's my purse?!!!" and burst out crying. It's a really cute purse. She got it from Vespera for her birthday. It contained her hairbrush, a spray bottle of water, and the sweetest little printed napkins that she received from her friend for Hanukkah.

We sat down on the couches inside the fitness center, and I put in a call to the bus garage. I learned that if the purse contained ID, they would actually STOP the bus and help us find the fastest way to catch up with it in order to get the purse back. However, since it didn't contain anything...um...important, they couldn't hold up the bus. I didn't know they'd ever hold up the bus for anything. So, that we new information! In any case, the bus garage operator helped us figure out when the same bus would be passing our way in the opposite direction. Then we could board the bus and check for the purse.

We had to wait an hour. Mane was beside herself. So, I took her out for ice cream. (Yes, we live in MN and it's freezing outside, but this was an emergency.) The ice cream made her feel better for a while. She told me her mouth was happy, in any case. But as the time drew nearer for the bus to arrive, she started getting anxious, imagining someone else carrying her purse off the bus and taking it home to their own little girl. I didn't want to promise her that it would be there. So, we just waited and hoped, talking about all the possible scenarios.

At 12:04pm we boarded the bus. I said to the bus driver, "We were on this same bus about an hour ago, and my daughter left a little blue purse with stars on it. Did someone turn it in?"

All the other passengers in the first few rows, who could hear my question, leaned forward in their seats. I kid you not, the bus grew quiet in these few tense seconds of anticipation.

Mane stood anxiously.

The bus driver reached beside his seat and pulled out the purse!

Mane laughed and we thanked him profusely.

Then we turned to face the rest of the bus. Everyone was grinning from ear to ear, old men and young, mothers and grandmothers, and a few whom I sure did not even speak English. The whole story played out on our faces and in our gestures, and it wasn't too hard to figure out what happened. I almost felt the bus break into silent applause.

I thought about how this feeling is one we can all relate to, one we long for...to find and be found.

I once was lost, but now I'm found. Amazing Grace.

Heavy Metal

Creativity Boot Camp - Day Four

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Yes, Creativity Boot Camp is going at its own pace in my house. And I don't know when I'll finish. That's not the point. At least, that's what they tell me over there. So, bear with me. While everyone else is finished. I am on Day Four.

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When I was about five months pregnant, Mango and I went to the Whistle Stop Bed and Breakfast in New York Mills, MN. I brought along my prenatal yoga DVD and practiced every day in our very own train car while Mango tried to convince me that pregnancy looked good on me. He even took my picture while I was up to me ears in bubble bath. (Yes, the train car had a whirlpool tub.)

We came home with a heavy chunk of metal as a souvenir: a railroad spike painted gold, the signature gift of the Whistle Stop B&B. It was such a strange gift, heavy and spray-painted. We still have it, and I've contemplated from time to time what it means (being a person who contemplates the meaning of the unexpected and unusual in life - see my posts about double-yolked eggs...oh, and there were several more double yolked eggs one morning last week - we're still wondering about the meaning of this...).

The "original" golden spike was driven by Leland Stanford at the completion of the transcontinental railroad in 1869, a commemoration of the union of the two major railroads in the U.S. at the time. I like that - a symbolic spike tying the two railroads together...railroads that go a lot of different directions but are ultimately united and work together for the same purposes and goals. And that's what Mango and I are - two people working on various separate things in life but ultimately united together in purpose, in goals, in meaning. And there we were about to have our first baby, half of my DNA bound to half of his DNA to create something completely new and different, a golden spike, if you will, tying us together, not just in purpose and spirit but in the real physical world. It isn't that we weren't bound together before, but a baby is a tangible, physical bond...not evidence of our bond, but an actual real life bond - part of me and part of him.

I just have to sit with that for a while.

Then I think of all the things that railroads mean. My grandfather worked for Burlington Northern for his entire work career. Perhaps that's why I find some fascination with railroads, though he never spoke with me about his work. Or, perhaps, it's because I grew up with the movie Stand By Me, and there was something so captivating about following a railroad track. Railroad tracks are on a mission to somewhere and they slice through so much of life along the way. Like my life. And Mango's life. And our children. Yet the whole thing is tied together by these spikes, grounded, stable, connected to the solid terra firma and to every other track.

And it was on the old railroad bridge over Lake Calhoun where Mango first told me that I was beautiful. This was before we were a couple. And I didn't know what to say. There I was on those old tracks, not even knowing which direction my life was going or what to say about it. I like the way that old railroad tracks sit in the ground and the grass and flowers grow up around them, and they seem almost (but not quite) like part of the natural world all over again. They remind me of the past, of the people who came before me and the things that make me who I am today. And I can still follow those old tracks to somewhere...and sometimes they meet up with some new tracks, like the Hiawatha Line in Minneapolis, like the way layers of my life meet up and are sort of the same but altogether different...all tied together by those heavy chunks of metal. Heavy metal. 

Picnic

This post is part of the Creativity Boot Camp, Day 2. 

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What is it about a picnic that inspires us so? Is it like coloring outside the lines? Breaking the rules a little bit? And why are we humans like that? Why do we work so hard to keep our lives the same, resisting change, creating stability and structure. Then we want to rebel. We want something new and exciting to happen. We want to do something that isn't so ordinary and boring. We want to be distinguished. We want, in fact, the very thing we do not want...change.

So, we have little ways of breaking up the sameness. We have picnics. Oh, the joy of eating outside on a summer day, spitting watermelon seeds in the grass, not worrying about the spilled lemonade or the crumbs all over. We feel free. 

And I've come to the conclusion that these little things feed our spirits. Our deviations from security and sameness wake us up a little. We delight in taking off on a road trip, eating under the open sky, stopping wherever we wish. It brings us freshness, like the smell of ripe tomatoes still on the vine, pungent and new. 

We return, though, always we return (or wish to return), to our place of security, the taste of freshness and freedom keeps our secure places from growing stale. The picnic blanket tucked away reminds us that we're still free, even as we continue to walk the daily-daily of life.

Questions from Mane

Today Mane asked me, "Have you ever noticed that you can't lift something up that you're sitting on? ...I mean, did someone discover that sometime?"

Of daisies, streamers, balloon, and bouquets...

This is what was left of my Mother's Day flowers two weeks after Mother's Day. My husband and my beautiful children brought me a bouquet of roses and lilies and daisies and greens. After the roses and lilies started to droop, I took them out and kept the daisies and greens. Today, a single daisy still remains in a bud vase on my counter. ...I like to draw out the bouquet as long as I can, cutting stems, replacing water, and picking out the drooping blooms until it's time to let it all go. I think we do holidays like that, and birthdays, too, here at The Midnight Cafe. The streamers from Niteo's surprise birthday party over a week ago still grace the doorways, just as the balloons from Mane's party hung from the trees in the yard until they wrinkled up and had to be cut down. And Vespera's wedding bouquet still hangs from the hook in the kitchen ceiling. We honor the person(s), whose day it was, as we pass by the bits of their celebration day after day.

I heard once that your birthday isn't over until you receive the last card. I like that. We like to draw things out, milk them dry to the very last drop, and then we can be ready to release them...because the memory will be ours, even when the balloons have wrinkled, and the streamers have fallen, and the daisies have, at last, faded. 

I read a poem yesterday by Will Allen Dromgoole called Fragments From the Years, and the last line sticks with me. In speaking of memories, he says, 

"And sometimes, when life seems to hard, we give them greeting, 

And know that memory is a possession, too."  

I think of the way we hold onto the last vestiges of bouquets and decorations as out way rehearsing our memories before we tuck them away.

Memory Outside of Memory

I remember her playing with Mane when we came to pick Mango up from school, and when we drove home Mane said, "I wish Vespera was my sister." Did she know? Is there a memory outside of memory for the things that haven't happened yet? Not one month later we'd be in the process of adopting her. I didn't know that day. Mango didn't know. Mane, at 4 years old, surely didn't know.

I remember back, 4 years prior, my pregnant self walking in a gently falling December snow and thinking that Mane would be born in the snow. I shook my head at myself. Mane was due 4 months from then - in late April. Even in Minnesota, that would be late for snow. She was finally born - ten days past her due date - in early May following a late spring snowstorm! How could I know? I didn't know. And yet I knew...as though I remembered already.

Memories, for me, are something mystical. Sometimes we remember before, sometimes after, sometimes differently than what someone else remembers, sometimes ALL the details, and sometimes only fragments. Sometimes we remember nothing but the feeling, or the smell, or the music. Our memories store themselves in the time of year or in a type of weather, in favorite foods, and in kinds of flowers. And, I feel that even when we can't remember, we have a certain type of memory. Our bodies know things that our mind does not, stores things in our hands and feet, in our arms and legs and the smalls of our backs. So, we remember.

Sometimes I want to make myself remember. And so I write things down and take a lot of pictures. I close my eyes and try to freeze-frame the thoughts and feelings, colors and textures of the moment. Then I discover that memory doesn't work that way, will still come and go as it pleases, with the smell of lilacs on the breeze and changing color of the leaves in the autumn. As much as I promise myself that I will remember forever, I still pick up an old piece of writing and am surprised by the things that happened to me.

Perhaps we'd be crushed if we remembered all the pieces of ourselves all at once, if we could remember everything that ever happened all at the same time. The present would be drowned by the past. Instead we call up only the memories we need to inform the present moment. And then, occasionally, we are blessed by the sweetness of an unbidden memory, the softness of a baby cheek, the smell of old perfume in a box of letters...or, perhaps, something that is yet to come in the gently falling snow.

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This post is part of Momalom's Five for Ten

"Happiness is..."

To get my blog out of its bloggy slump and to connect with some other bloggers out there in blogland (and because Heather of the EO is doing it), I've decided to join Momalom for their current Five for Ten event. (Except it's day 3, and I'm a bit behind...)

Today's topic is "Happiness is."

I'm having a lot of trouble with this one (I know, I just got started, and already I'm having trouble) because I so very seldom use the word happy. I try to focus on joy, on contentment. When I think about the things I wish for my children, I want them to be happy for sure, but even more than happiness I want them to be content with their lives, to be satisfied, to be fulfilled. In the words of Thoreau, I want them to "live deliberately...to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life." Sometimes that isn't always happy work. It's complex and confusing, often arduous and sometimes painful.

"Happy," for me, conjures up images of neatly wrapped packages all tied up with pretty bows. Sometimes we receive those packages in life. And it's beautiful when we do. It's lovely to receive one of those gifts and have the excitement of unwrapping what's inside. It's lovely to have one of those moments when everything is tied up neatly, just for that moment, shimmering and sparkling and just plain pretty. But that's exactly what they are...just moments. It's not a whole lifetime of one beautiful present after another. Often our gifts come plainly wrapped with little fanfare, and we have to work for them. We have to dig up the treasure, get some dirt under our fingernails, sweat a little. And that, I think, is where the real joy comes from, the contentment that isn't just skin-deep happiness.

What it really comes down to for me is that life is really about people. It's about loving others out of the overflow of God's love for us. And loving others, although it can be filled with happy moments, is not always happy work. The depth and strength of the love we build when we endure life's less-than-happy moments is where we find true contentment and fulfillment. It is the true lifeblood, the marrow, of our lives.

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Resurrection Eggs

We decided to dig out the mosaic circle that we use for Advent and use it to display the Passion story symbols from the Resurrection eggs. There's always been something powerful about keeping the circle of candles on the table for Advent and displaying the symbolic ornaments on our Jesse wreath. And there's something powerful about using the same mosaic plate for both Advent and Easter. It draws the whole story together. I see why cathedrals have been built with stained glass windows that tell the story of Jesus, and the Catholic Church employs the use of incense, music, icons, candles, and so many other tangible objects. We are human, and we need reminders.

Talking about Easter

So, today we started talking about Easter with Mane, using Resurrection Eggs:


They're these totally cheesy plastic eggs with equally cheesy little plastic figures inside that symbolize different parts of the Easter story. In all honesty, I could have made nicer ones myself, but I got the "real" set from Savers for $0.99. I couldn't pass it up when I saw it this summer, and I'm determined to push through the unappealing aesthetics in order to have a concrete, tactile tool for talking about Easter with Mane.

I described Mane this morning to Mango as a "theological child." She talks to me about God in these random moments. Once, I was cutting out paper dolls for her, and we were listening to Sara Groves. Mane told me that she knows the things I tell her about God are true because when she hears them she knows in her heart that they're true. I talked to her about how God made us so that even if nobody ever tells us about God, we can know God. That's part of the wonder and the mystery. And sometimes I think it's easier to know God if nobody ever tells us about God. It muddies the waters less. Maybe that's why I enjoy these theological talks with Mane. She seems to see so much more clearly sometimes.

So, this week, we'll follow the Passion Story (isn't it interesting that we call it that?) using our thoroughly American and 21st century Resurrection Eggs...because Mane is also my "kinesthetic child." Today we read the story of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. We read it from several different books: The Children's Illustrated Bible, Jesus: The Friend of Children, and The Easter Story. When one book referenced Jesus healing a lame man, we went back and read the story of the man who was lowered through the roof of a house by his friends. Jesus forgave his sins and healed him, and, though he had been paralyzed, he walked home healthy and strong. We also learned that kings would ride on donkeys in times of peace. They rode on horses in wartime. So, Jesus came into Jerusalem as a king of peace. The Bible is so rich with symbolism that I still find myself amazed, after all these years of studying.

Tonight we may open another egg, as there are 12 eggs and only 7 days until Easter. Tomorrow we will read Miriam's Cup in honor of the beginning of Passover. We have been reading Mrs. Katz and Tush for homeschool, which includes a beautiful explanation of Passover. And sometime this week we'll read The Tale of Three Trees.

I hoping this will develop into a tradition as rich as Advent has become for us. It's always hard the first time around. I always have to jump into these new traditions, and I feel unprepared no matter how prepared I am. Isn't that true of most new things in life?

Shalom.

Thoughts on Cohousing

Cohousing is filled with all kinds of unusual questions and strange concerns.

I find myself wondering if I should hang out in the kitchen doing homeschool with Mane at the table in order to give the young couple some space in the the living room...or if it drives them nuts that I'm always in the kitchen when they want to cook (or shower, since the bathroom is right off the kitchen).

I wonder whether we should ask them to join us for everything, if they're tired of being bothered, or if they'll feel left out if we don't ask.

I wonder if we should say goodnight at night or if we should leave them alone.

When they're quiet, we wonder if they're ok or just sleepy or busy.

I wonder if I talk too much. And then I back off. And then I wonder if I haven't said enough.

We wonder if we should stay home when they're home in order to spend time with them or if they'd like to have the house to themselves.

And then. Then...I realize that we wonder and worry too much. It's ok to just be ourselves. We're all loving people with a lot of care and respect for each other. If we wonder, we should ask. Direct communication works amazingly well.

That is all.

Questions

The other day, Mane was sitting with Vespera and I and my cousin while we were working on Vespera's homework project (a jacket made entirely of paper, using nothing but paper to hold it all together). She [Mane] plopped down next to me and asked,

"Do you ever have questions, but you don't really know what they are? You just know they're about life."

Why yes. I have those kinds of questions all the time. Thanks for asking.

Iditarod XXXVIII

The Olympics just finished up, but we still have Olympic fever at our house! So, it's a good thing the 38th annual Iditarod sled dog race begins on Saturday, right on the heels of the 2010 Olympics, and just in time to keep feeding our hunger for great sports action and stories.

This will be our 4th year following the Iditarod, both for fun and for education. Over the years we've been drawn to the stories of the mushers (the individuals who "drive" the sleds), and we have learned much about character, strength, generosity, and endurance. I'll never forget the story of the musher who lost one of her dogs during the race. She was so heartbroken that another musher offered to stay with her and keep pace with her for the rest of the race, just for company, thereby giving up an possible competitive finish for himself. And then there's the Red Lantern - the prize and trophy awarded to the last competitor to finish the race, a tribute to that musher's determination and an acknowledgment that any finish in this race is a prize-worthy accomplishment. I've found that the race and the stories that happen on the trail are so often analogous to the rest of life and faith.

This year we'll be following more that a few mushers. Of course, we'll have to keep tabs on some of our favorites: Martin Buser, DeeDee Jonrowe, Jessie Royer, Aliy Zirkle (in alphabetical order so as not to pick favorites).

We'll also be watching the 7 female rookies this year (Jane Faulkner, Kathleen Frederick, Tamara Rose , Michelle Phillips, Kristy Berington, Celeste Davis, and Colleen Robertia - listed in the order they're listed on the Iditarod website, also so as not to pick favorites). That's SEVEN women who have never run the Iditarod before this year!! I find that pretty amazing.

Finally, we'll be following Sam Deltour of Belgium, who was the first Belgian to finish the Iditarod (2008) AND the first person ever to finish with all 16 sled dogs (also 2008), Wattie McDonald, who is from Mango's country of ancestry, Scotland, and Newton Marshall, who is interesting just by virtue of being from JAMAICA!

That covers 14 of the 71 current entrants! Every year we seem to accumulate a few more names of interest. ;) We look forward to seeing what new projects we can build around the race this year and, of course, to a great party to celebrate the finish!

Introducing...Niteo

I've been having quite a time trying to come up with a new screen name for Novio. As many of you know, I do not use real names on the web, and "Novio" is simply Spanish for "boyfriend." It seems that he's been promoted, and I've been contemplating for a week now what to call him.

I went to my trusty list of Latin words, since Mane & Vespera are both Latin. (Mane = early morning, and Vespera = evening prayer.) And I kept gravitating toward words that sounded similar to Novio. In the end, I decided on Niteo...

Niteo : to shine, glitter, be bright, glow, flourish

I had a hard time with this one since Niteo isn't such a glitter-y guy. But you ought to see the way his eyes shine when he smiles, the way his whole face brightens when Vespera walks into the room... And flourish is really a beautiful word. According to the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary, to flourish is:

to grow luxuriantly,
to thrive,
to achieve success,
to prosper

I just have to repeat that first one: to grow luxuriantly. I cannot imagine a better way to describe the kind of growth we have already seen in Niteo and in the relationship Niteo & Vespera have together.

Luxuriant. Deep. Intense. Beautiful. Extravagant. Abundant.

They have grown and thrived together, and we anticipate a life of success and prosperity...rich in love, joy, adventure, hope, and peace.

The Saga of the Double Yolks

Mango told me this evening that when he made breakfast for Vespera & Novio the day before the wedding, there were 2 eggs with double yolks.

If that doesn't seem impressive in any way...read here or here.

Makes total sense to me...

The Speech I Gave at the Wedding

It brings us a great deal of joy to be here today to celebrate the marriage of two very wonderful people, Vespera & Novio. It has been so delightful to watch their relationship grow and change over the last several years. As I sat down to write out something I wanted to say, a whole flood of memories filled my mind.

I don't think I'll ever forget the first time I met Novio when he came home with Vespera from Village Park. He shyly leaned over the fence and made polite small talk with us before heading back to his own house. As the weeks passed, this became the Tuesday evening ritual, and by the next spring Vespera (also shyly) told me they we dating.

I will not forget the day Novio brought Vespera a goldfish when she was sick and feeling sad, nor the way he and his best friend showed up early in the morning on her 17th birthday to wake her with a serenade.

I will not forget the summer you spent biking and rollerblading everywhere, nor the winter you both learned to snowboard.

I will not forget Novio sitting in my living room telling me that he loved you, Vespera.

I will not forget the nights the two of you sat together playing guitar in the living room or seeing you paint together on the banks of the Whitewater River.

We have watched you plan parties together, work on homework, cook food, dance, laugh, cry, and tell stories. We saw you both graduate from high school with high honors, and we watched as you both began college this fall, pursuing your goals with determination and courage. You are two very talented and accomplished people. You sharpen each other, and together you have an energy that is more than either of you would be on their own. It is clear to me that God has plans for you, and we pray continually that you will always find yourselves right in the middle of those plans.

Vespera & Novio, you have generously shared your thoughts and your plans, your hopes and joys with us, and we have been honored and privileged to witness the journey that brought you to this day. Now it is our honor to walk beside you as a couple. Of all the beautiful gifts that God has given us, one of the most precious is knowing that our daughter has married someone who loves her deeply and completely, who respects and honors her, and knowing that we would not choose anyone else for her, even if we could. Novio, welcome to our family. We are so happy for you both! Be blessed!

How many times have I traveled this road?

How many times have I traveled this road?

To church, to school, to work, to my friend's house...home. I know I've traveled it to weddings and birthdays and funerals and baby showers. Alone. With friends.

In the rain.

Crying or laughing or praying or all three.

And like tonight, in the snow, in the wind, with my headlights turning the world into a snow globe. In the snow and the wind while my future husband drove, with my head in his lap. I know I was dreaming and sleeping and my thoughts were of the future and our life together.

Yet never, ever once did I dream of this day. It isn't something I could ever have imagined...in those days when I drove this road every day.

I didn't dream about you in the back seat with your bridesmaids, making a wedding, planning a future, growing our family by yet one more person.

This life is so vast, so outside the lines....like trying to get your mind to go outside your mind.

Though I didn't dream it or plan it or imagine it, you are here, and this reality is so much better than anything I would or could have imagined. It is bigger, more alive, more daring, and so much deeper and more beautiful. A life of heightened contrast.

How many times have I traveled this road?

Many. More than I can count.

And none. None at all.

Why Co-Housing?

The author of Little House on a Small Planet, Shay Salomen, writes,

"How is it that we have a housing crisis? Maybe a homing crisis, or a sharing crisis, but this isn't a housing crisis."

This was written in a time when the U.S. was considered to be having a housing crisis. Now I think we have, perhaps, a different type of housing crisis, one in which there are too many large expensive homes, and everyone is trying to downsize when downsized houses barely exist. I love how she refers to this as a sharing crisis, though, because it exactly fits how I feel about co-housing/multi-generational housing/intentional community, or whatever else you want to call it. For the purpose of simplicity, it means sharing your house with other adults. Our co-housing adventure begins next week when Vespera & Novio get married (or, perhaps, 2 weeks from now, when they're home from their honeymoon). They'll be living with us.

Why share? Well, to be honest, it makes sense to me as a family therapist, as an environmentalist, and as a Christian. Maybe I'll take those points in backwards order. As Christians we are called to be the church. I spent some time in graduate school really working out what that means and came to the conclusion that my professor, LeRon Schultz, says it best. He spoke of how the church of the Bible was a group of people who were called to live together in community, loving and serving each other, in a way that calls or draws other people to God. In other words, the early church was supposed to share.

All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved. (Acts 2:44-47)

They didn't stop having houses or possessions entirely, as evidenced by the fact that they went to each other's houses and ate, but they gladly shared all they had with each other. And, frankly, people were drawn in by that kind of community, by that kind of selflessness and sharing. People became Christians because of the example the early church set. They wanted what that little group of people had. This is our calling...to live in this beautiful relationship with each other in a way that attracts others, that draws them. I have often thought of our house as one of peace and one of healing. It is the deep desire of Mango & I to offer grace and rest to all who enter here. Who better to begin with than our children?

So, secondly, as an environmentalist, shared housing makes so much sense. Why use more natural resources to build more houses when the houses we have are big enough to house more people? Why burn the fuel to heat two houses when we all fit in one? Why use the electricity to light two kitchens and two living rooms? Why buy more dishes and appliances when we can share? It's a matter of environmental stewardship to leave a smaller footprint.

And, finally, as a family therapist, a mother, and a human being, shared housing means we have access to the community we so desperately need. We were not created to spend long hours without the company of others or to take care of all the tasks of daily life alone. Post partum depression is so common for new mothers because they're so isolated. Spending all day with only the company of a small child is exhausting, lonely, and (let's admit it) boring work. I know that I was delighted to learn when Vespera came to us that I was gaining, not simply another daughter, but some thoughtful company and interesting conversation. More people in a house means more opportunities to learn and to grow, to share thoughts, to gather ideas, to be challenged and to challenge others, to be sharpened, to develop into better, more whole and holy people (to throw in some more theology). Not to mention, that shared housing also means dividing responsibilities and multiplying our celebrations!

I cannot say all this without mentioning that I am also an introvert, partial to time alone and a little space to think. I imagine that other introverts reading here are feeling a bit horrified at the suggestion of co-housing. This is why sharing a house requires some healthy people with good boundaries. It can't be done thoughtlessly or without the necessary communication skills. This is, perhaps, another blog post altogether. So, I think I'll leave it at that.

As always, I invite your thoughts, comments, questions, and prayer. Thanks!

Teaching, Timing, Trust

There are so many things I want my children to know before they are grown. So many things I want to tell them. So many things I want them to know. Every so often I must remind myself of two things. First, that I won't stop telling them things just because they're grown. And, second, that there are many lessons they will and need to learn on their own. Often it's only in retrospect that we can look back and say, "I wish someone had told me that." The truth is that maybe we wouldn't have been able to hear it or it wouldn't have made sense or we would have forgotten anyway because it didn't seem relevant. I think that's why premarital counseling often has so little effect. It's not just that it's young love or that it's all so new and romantic, but when a person just isn't ready for a piece of information, it often goes in the waste bin rather than the file cabinet. They won't need the information until they're in the situation. And that's why parenting is a full time job that never ends. We've got to be there when the timing is right and the wisdom is relevant...which is so often different from the timing we expected.

I was musing the other night about how babies seem to just learn things on their own. I remember having some freakish fear that we needed to be doing something to help Mane learn to crawl, and then one day she just crawled...with no help from us. I think that sometimes we think we're doing something by holding those tiny hands and helping the baby walk across the room, but, strangely enough, most babies will learn to walk whether we practice with them or not. We repeat words to them over and over, "Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama," only to have them burst out with "Dada" or "ball" or "cat." Sure, they still learned from us, but not in the way we expected...not by any direct teaching...and certainly in their own way and in their own time. I suppose that's why how we live our lives is more important that what we say. We're being watched even when we're not teaching.

It's such a dance...that knowing when to teach and when to trust. Knowing when you've said or done enough. Even knowing when direct teaching will interfere with the deeper teaching that comes of personal experience. When to say something and when to let the lesson be learned. Holding on. Letting go. Holding back. Pouring forth.

I love it that the verbs "to wait" and "to hope" and "to expect" are the same in Spanish.

Sometimes we must wait.
Hold back.
Keep pace, not running ahead.
And hope, knowing that we have already built the foundation,
And sit on the edge of our seats expectantly,
knowing that something glorious is about to break forth.
All on it's own.
Without our help.