Category Archives: Family

Family, holidays, home, Nature, Uncategorized, Weather

Sugar Loaf in the Cool of the Morning

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To stay cool this Sunday, we got up early to explore the trail up to the base of  Sugar Loaf ,  Winona’s major landmark rock. Nice woodsy switchbacks on the way up, well groomed trails esp. at the base of the rock, and of course, the higher up we got, the more spectacular the views. Besides seeing downtown and East End Winona, we could (once we got high enough) see West Burns Valley, and some of Pleasant Valley. There are lots of valleys around here, and I still have trouble keeping them straight. We even saw the barn and silo of the “hippie farm” Husband live at in the 70s.

Here are some of the sights:

On the way down (9:30-ish) we met several people headed up, and thought “You’re going to be warm up there”.

How have you been staying cool this weekend in the 90 Plus temperatures?

Family, home, Kids, Poems, Uncategorized

Sharing Spaces

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I got a credit collection call today asking for “Jane”. When YA was younger and still needed daycare and after-school care, I rented out a room in my house to cover the costs.  Over the years I had a variety of housemates, some great experiences (still friends with Fredrick) and some sad (Dawn passed away a year after she lived here) and some just downright weird.

My first suspicion that Jane was a little on the weird side was the day she moved in. We had agreed on the day; I had told her I would be home about 5. When I arrived home, her car was parked in the driveway and she was asleep in the front seat.  I knocked on the window, she rolled down the window, said she’s be in shortly.  Then she went back to sleep and didn’t come in until 2 hours later.

She wanted to set up a weekly house meeting which I resisted; that’s too formal for my taste. Our dog, Katy Scarlet, didn’t like her.  She was estranged from her adult daughter but wouldn’t tell me why.  She never got a job, although she talked about looking quite a bit.  When she’d been living at the house for about 5 months, she told me she would have to travel to Colorado for something and due to a previous legal problem, she might be arrested and have to spend a couple of months there.  She never went to Colorado.  Then at the 6-month mark, massive numbers of forwarded pieces of mail started showing up for her.  One day I counted 44 of them and this went on for about 3 weeks.  She never explained.  Did I mention the dog didn’t like her?

At the 9-month mark, she made coffee in her little coffee pot and then left about an inch of coffee in the pot for days on end, never cleaning it. I asked her about it a few times and she always said “Oh, sorry, I’ll get to it today” but never did.  When the coffee had completely dried up, she moved the pot to the top of the refrigerator.  At this point I told her that things weren’t working out and that she’s need to find another place.  She didn’t argue.  The day she moved out, I took the ratty coffee pot and set it on top of one of her boxes.  She moved it to the counter.  I carried it out and put it in her car. After that day I never saw her again or even heard from her.

The credit collection calls began about 6 months after she moved out. These calls came from Colorado, Arizona, California and also here in Minnesota.  And the callers asked for her under a variety of names, although they were all a variation on “Jane”. They did slow down and then trickle off but over the years I’ve probably gotten 50 of these calls.  Today’s call was almost exactly 22 years since she moved out.

Tell me about a “colorful” housemate/roommate that you’ve had.

Family, Fifty Words, Kids, Nature, Weather

It’s Raining, It’s Pouring – We All Fall Down

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It’s raining and thundering right now. The Irish Setter is burrowing into me on the bed, shaking and panting.  The shepherd mix is also on the bed, eyeing the other dog carefully.  As soon as the setter moves, the shepherd jumps up to police the situation.

What did your parents tell you about lighting and thunder when you were a kid?

Art, Family, Nature, Stories, Uncategorized

Hi, Daddy Bunting

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I have been accused of producing fake news and alternative facts.

Last year our maintenance man, Kevin, who is by far the best naturalist I have ever known with a life-time acquaintance with wildlife and conservation, spotted an indigo bunting in the brush 20 yards from our patio. Indigos are very shy – tiny and they blend into leaves and shadows despite the blue. When I looked up indigos, I solved a mystery. A small dull gray bird was in my seed feeder all the time, but I could not identify it. It was the female. I only rarely saw the male last year, and Kevin never did again.

I waited to see if they would come back this year. Sandy saw him first, sitting on our patio table looking in at her, which is not indigo behavior at all. An alternative fact according to Kevin. The indigo has done it once more that she saw. I see him often in our feeder or more often on the ground, even when I am sitting on the patio. Kevin keeps looking. No luck, even though he takes breaks on a deck above and to the right of me. That apartment is between tenants. Fake news he says, when I boast about it.

By dumb luck I have proof. On my first try I got a shot of Daddy Bunting, gone a hunting for food. Not quality photography, taken through a closed window to avoid spooking him, but acceptable in a court of law. Monday morning we go on trial.

I declare this boast day. What do you want to crow about?

They say, the people of science, that an indigo is not really blue, but black.  It is, they say, a trick of how the light reflects off the feathers. I get it a bit, but is not all color just a trick of how light reflects off something? Red looks red because all the colors but red are absorbed, I believe the people of science say.  So how is the blue of the indigo . . . oh, never mind.

What is the mystery in your life today?

Family, History, Kids, Uncategorized

An Oma in the Kitchen

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In May, 1914, my widowed, maternal great grandmother, Metta Sophie Bartels, left her small village near Bremen, Germany with  her four teenage daughters, teenage son, and one son in his early 20’s, and immigrated to Fulda, MN, where her father and siblings all had immigrated.  Her oldest son had inherited the Bartels family farm upon his father’s death.  One other son, my grandfather, had been drafted into the German army. He was discharged in July, 1914 because of flat feet, and he immediately left Germany for Minnesota. (It is rather humbling to know that I owe my existence to flat feet).

Metta was called “Oma”, a German term for grandma.  My mother had very fond memories of her. She remembered her as a kind and gentle presence in her life.  Oma lived with her children and helped them with their families as they married and had their own children. She was a hard worker. My mother remembers the time Oma broke her right arm, which was her dominant arm.  My mother said, “Oma just hoed the garden with her other hand”.   Oma died in 1947. The photo is of her prior to immigrating.

We now have a grandchild.  Husband and I thought pretty hard about what names we wanted to be called by our grandson.  Our daughter-in-law’s parents will be Grandma and Grandpa. My maternal grandmother was called “Umie”,  a diminutive for “Oma”.  Umie was interesting but rather difficult to live with, so I didn’t want that name.  For rather hard to explain reasons, Husband will be Grandpa Dazzle. I could be “Grandma Boom” because of my last name, Boomgaarden. That name, however, belongs forever to my paternal grandmother, a short, wild little person who drove really fast and cheated at cards.  I decided that I want to be called Oma.

We visited our son and DIL a week after the birth of their son.  While at their home I cooked and froze two soups (Bremer Huhnersuppe and Chicken Chipotle Chower), lasagna, four loaves of French bread, and a loaf of lemon poppy seed bread. I also cleaned out all their kitchen cupboards and drawers. Who has time for that with a newborn?  My grateful son said “Every  home needs an Oma in the kitchen”. I was glad to be of help.

What kind of help has benefited you the most?  What help have you given that has been the most helpful.  Have you ever had a nickname?”

Baboon Achievers, Family, Fifty Words, gardening, Nature

More Than Enough

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I have a medium-sized yard. Last fall YA and I raked up 22 bags of leaves and yard waste.  Always more bags than the rest of the neighbors.  How can we possibly have this much stuff to be bagged up now?  And we’re not even finished!

What do you have way too much of?

Family, Stories, Uncategorized

Not All Is as It Appears

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Like several other babooners, my folks grew up during the Great Depression, and considered themselves very lucky to get to college, which is where they met – Iowa State Teachers College (now State University of Iowa). They were “upwardly mobile”, and worked hard to be able to eventually own a nice house in the midwest, and be solidly part of the middle class instead of the lower.

When I came home with a hippie-looking guy, they didn’t balk too much. (I think they were still relieved that I was no longer with Wasband.) They were glad when we finally got married, but they had to travel to some unusual places to visit us (and their only grandchild) those first 5 years – a farm outside Winona; a big old 1885 house with carriage barn in Winona; married student housing in Muncie, IN; and back to old Winona house. It was about that place that we had an interesting discussion.

Dad couldn’t see why we would buy such a shabby looking house. Admittedly, we bought it because of low price – it was a fixer upper for sure – and we had more time than money then, as Husband was doing part-time teaching at Winona State. Like all good “hippies”, we had some very shabby used furniture mixed in with a few genuine antiques, which must have reminded him of leaner times as a child. When they saw the “before” version, it looked like this:

 

But eventually we painted the exterior, replaced radiators with central heat, put in a fuel efficient furnace (some of these were covered by a block grant”), stripped painted woodwork (seven windows/doorways) in one room down to clear pine, and repapered or painted four rooms, getting rid of the black/gold flocked wall paper in the foyer. I’ll never forget how satisfying it was when the folks visited after we were all finished:

My dad looked around in amazement and said “I never would have thought the place could look this good.”

When have you been fooled by appearances?

Family, History, Uncategorized

Fading Fraternities

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In early June our church handbell choir has a gig in Jamestown, ND at a regional convention of the Eastern Star.  Our director is active in the Eastern Star, hence our invitation to provide entertainment.  My grandmother was a member of the Eastern Star, as my grandfather was a Shriner.  I always thought of the Eastern Star as the old ladies who swept up behind the Shriners and Masons.  Our handbell director insists that they are quite independent of the Shriners.   I sometimes accompanied my grandmother when she cleaned and straightened up the Masonic Lodge in town. She didn’t seem too independent to me, but perhaps times have changed.

I note that today in history in 1819, the Oddfellows were founded. My grandfather belonged to the Oddfellows, too, as was my Uncle Harvey. I have my grandfather’s Oddfellow sword. It is very sharp and you could run someone through with it.  My father was a Mason, but in late life left the Lodge because he thought some of his fellow Masons had been rude to my mother.  The men in my mother’s family never joined fraternal groups, as that was frowned upon by the Missouri  Synod Lutheran Church.

In our town we have the usual fraternal groups such as the Knights of Columbus, the Elks, the Rotary, and the Optimists.  In Winnipeg I noticed a sign for an interesting group called the Zontas, I never figured out what they did.  Fraternal groups are fading.  We have a big Elks Club building here that sports a restaurant, bar, and space for parties and receptions,  The Elks decided they couldn’t keep it going as it was, and leased out the entire top floor, including the restaurant and bar areas to the local  Apostolic Pentecostal Church. I think it is a delightful combination. The Elks will carry on and drink and eat in the basement, while the Pentecostals will pray and repent upstairs.

Did you have family members who belonged to fraternal organizations? Make up a fraternal organization that you would be willing to join. 

 

Family, Food, Kids, Uncategorized, Weather

Winter Wontons

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Like half of southwestern Minneapolis, on the day before the big storm two weeks ago, I stopped by the store to “pick up a few things”. Just two weeks before that I had come across our wonton presses in the back of a drawer, so when I saw the wonton wrappers in the produce section I quickly put them in the basket.

When YA was younger, we used to make wontons more often, but these days our meal schedules don’t cross much and things like wontons have fallen off our schedule. But when YA came home and saw the wrappers, she was excited to make them.  On Saturday her work was cancelled and she immediately decided we should do the wontons right then.

She made the filling, filled the wontons and then I did the frying. It was snowing like crazy outside and it was a great hour of cooking with YA.  They were yummy and didn’t last too long.

Here’s our recipe for Vegetarian Fried Wontons

Ingredients
1 bunch of green onions, chopped
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 package of vegetarian crumbles (we use Morningstar)
2 Tbsp. tamari
1 package wonton wrappers (we use the round ones)
Vegetable oil (for frying)

Directions

  • Saute green onions and garlic in olive oil
  • Add crumbles and mix thoroughly
  • Add just enough tamari to moisten the mixture
  • Drop by teaspoonfuls onto wontons; moisten edge of wonton w/ water
  • Squeeze wonton closed in wonton press (or close wonton and crimp edges w/ a fork
  • Fry three or four at a time in hot oil; drain on paper towels (if you prefer, you can boil)
  • Enjoy! 

What’s a good “last storm of winter” comfort food for you?

Business, Family, Uncategorized

The Shoemaker’s Children Go Barefoot

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My father had a coffee shop and gas station where all the local  working guys and sheriff’s deputies came for lunch.  He also had a car wash that took up a lot of his time cleaning and maintaining.  We had buckets of quarters from the car wash proceeds that my mom dutifully counted and rolled up preparatory to taking them to the bank. This was before the days of automatic coin counters.

My dad was pretty fussy about how his business looked, but he rarely, if ever, washed any of our vehicles.  It was fine with him if I took a notion to wash the car ( I remember a brown Olds Cutlass) and polish it in the driveway, but it never at our own car wash.  It was a waste of our money, in his mind. It was fine, and probably expected, that other people should wash their cars in his car wash, but not us.  My dad had funny ideas about spending money.

I resist going to our local car washes until the dirt on our vehicles reaches critical mass.  Husband likes to keep his truck clean. I could care less. I think I still hear my dad’s voice in my head saying  “Car washes are for rubes. Don’t waste your money”.  Like him, I am prone to fuss over small charges and not blink at larger expenditures.

What parental spending habits have you retained or rejected in your own adult life?