Category Archives: Stories

History, Stories, Weather

Wise Words

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Today’s post is from tim
I sent a blog into Sherrilee and it got lost and rather than being able to find it due to my computer breaking and not having access to those files I thought about responding and in responding it Dondonde me that the punchline is that when I type stuff up it’s just kind of a quick off-the-cuff flowing commentary on what’s going on in my brain at the moment have you been able to tell…
The book that we’re reading in BBC nightingale starts out with a great first line not just memorable like they call me Ishmael but a great first line says something to the effect of marriage teaches you what you want to be an award teaches you what you are I hope to have memorable quotes that I can pass on as a legacy when I’m gone
something more than the fact that I miss spell the word form
every time every time every time
friend of mine just commented on the fact that her dad died and how difficult that was and it occurred to me that my dad left me with the number of sayings that I treasure and while I may not be the mark twain or Albert Einstein to be quoted by the world it would be nice to be remembered with a couple of meaningful sayings to pass on

are used to “Dr. Wayne Dyer from your Aronian zones and his quotation of the Declaration of Independence…”All experience has shown that mankind is more disposed to suffer-while evils are sufferable -than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed.”

that’s a true statement but those Declaration of Independence guys got a little wordy didn’t they?
what’s your favorite meaningful saying
Fifty Words, Food, Stories

Unseasonable

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I’m a cynic about weather – I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop – but Sunday I threw caution to the wind. A friend and I walked from her house to Black Coffee & Waffle where I had the best waffle ever.

Strawberries, blueberries, bananas, granola, almond butter and whipped cream. No syrup needed.  Then we went over to the Conservatory and saw the beautiful reds, purples and pinks of the Sunken Garden. And my jacket?  Left it in the car!

 

What’s on your agenda for unseasonable weather?

Movies, Stories

The Not-So-Frozen River Film Fest

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This was the weekend of Winona’s Frozen River Film Festival  and Thursday eve we attended our first of many events:  a cluster of short films, each between 4 and 15 minutes, about a given topic – like The Journey Set, Adventure Set, Expanding Frontier Shorts, Our Surroundings Shorts, Characters Set.

There were also longer films and speakers on myriad topics and at various venues – including Ed’s No Name Bar, the MN Conservatory of Arts, Public Library – but the majority will be held on Winona State’s campus. (Next year I’ll get this posted earlier in case anyone wants to make the trip!) I won’t see every film I’d like to because of volunteer shifts, but volunteering gets us free passes to most films and events.

frff

Unfortunately, with temps in the 50s here this weekend, a couple of outdoor “side events” were cancelled (think ice skating on Lake Winona). On the other hand, the Fat Tire Bike Ride through Aghaming Park (island in the Mississippi that holds the boathouse community), was good to go.

Thursday night’s collection of eight films was called The People Set. I watched, i.e., “Edges”, about a 90-year-old woman still doing fancy moves on ice skates; “Throw” about a thrower who used his skill with a yo-yo to pull him out of gang violence; and the love and tolerance of a family whose young child, “Pink Boy”, is drawn only to feminine things. It was an evening of rich experience, and I traveled to many places and in several people’s lives in a short interval.

What person can you think of who is worthy of being ensconced in a short film?

Stories

Birch Eulogy

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Disappearing from the North Shore: the white birch. Sad.

Viewing Superior through their white frame, their white paper catching the lake light. In the winter, as one with the ice.

rainbow

Hearing the wind rustle their leaves above our backyard fires.

They framed our yard and my soul.

What frames your visions?

Media, Stories

The Pallet

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an artists pallet tells you quite a bit about his personality

the color choices and mixes and the way they are mixed on the pallet. the brush strokes on the pallet are as distinctive as they are on the canvas.

you can tell people by their shoes their hairdo their choices re telling . furniture, clothing choices, car, watch, you used to be able to tell a lot about a person by their hat, now its their baseball cap the writing on their shirt the shine or lack of it on their shoes. it is interesting how we all have our own way. i had a friend in the massage and body work business who knew patients by the way they moved. everyone moves differently and distinctly the way you like your eggs, your speech pattern. pick one. which one. how is it the same, how is it distinctive. how is it the same as everyone elses. is it different in minnesota than it is in austrailia or germany or north dakota?

what is your signature?

what was you moms?

Baboon Achievers, Business, Stories

Help Wanted

53 Comments

I really like my job. I have never regretted choosing to spend my career as a psychologist in a very rural area. I work at a regional mental health center, one of eight in my state.  Every center has psychologists and other mental health professionals. At the present time, there are 12 openings for psychologists at these centers, and it is extremely hard to fill positions.  I find this hard to understand, as I can’t think of a better situation in which to practice. One has the support of colleagues, professional autonomy, people who do all the billing, good benefits, and the opportunity to treat just about every mental health condition in the DSM-5.  Heck, at many agencies you can even get your student loans repaid through a federal program to entice professionals to under served areas. We have one opening for a psychologist at my agency. I am the only full-time psychologist there.

Due to historical factors too complicated to go into, the supervisor of psychologists at my agency serves two agencies, my agency  and the one in Bismarck, necessitating that person drive 200 miles round trip once a week to oversee things out here, and spending one night in our town. Several other administrators do the same thing. My supervisor recently quit to move to another center, so my agency and the one in Bismarck are currently without a supervising psychologist. I applied for the supervisor’s job and interviewed for it last week.

The supervisor’s position is mainly administrative.  There are hours worth of administrative meetings at each agency and I would have to go to all of them at both places  if I were in the supervisor’s position. I would have to spend one night and two days a week in Bismarck, driving 200 miles round trip, often in poor weather. I would also not be able to see many, if any, clients, and would have no time to do psychological evaluations. The pay isn’t that much higher. Since I am the only full-time psychologist at my agency, there would be virtually no psychology services there. Why on earth did I apply for the supervisor’s position?

I am at the point where I don’t want someone younger and less experienced than I am telling me what to do. I want to be able to exercise some power in decision-making and policy.  I interviewed in Bismarck for the position last week. Everyone was kind and congenial, all people I knew and had worked with before. It struck me that I was the oldest person in the room.  I was the only applicant for the job.  After a weekend of thinking and discussion with Husband, I withdrew my application.

I decided that power and control are pretty illusory, that I can tolerate a supervisor younger than I am, even if they turn out to be a knucklehead, and that I would go bats sitting through endless meetings. I want to see clients and do evaluations.  The folks who interviewed me were very understanding. It would be endless headaches for  them to make sure that the services I provide now were continued if I had accepted the new position. I noticed an instant reduction in stress and heaviness after I made my decision to stay as I am.  Now if we can only convince young professionals that a rural practice can be even more satisfying than city life with its amenities.

What factors are important to you in making your work satisfying, or at least tolerable?

Business, Stories, Uncategorized

Valentine Bingo

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Things get a little frantic at a flower shop in mid-February. If you work in one, it’s wise to keep a sense of humor about it.

One of my co-workers drew up some Valentine Bingo scorecards to determine who gets all the most predictable and/or oddball questions and requests first.

Among the predictable ones:
“Roses cost how much?” (Yes, wholesale and retail prices go up this time of year.)
“And delivery is on top of that?” (Uh-huh. Wanna come pick them up?)
“Make it pretty…” (Well, we don’t typically try for ugly.)
“What time will that be delivered?” (It’s anybody’s guess. Wish I had a crystal ball.)
And that old favorite, “Are you busy?” (Ha ha ha ha! No! We’re not busy at all! You’re the very first person to ask me that! How very droll!)

bingo

And the less common, but still strangely inevitable ones:

“Do you have any peonies?” (Sorry, no. Too early for peonies.)
“Do you have blue roses?” (Only if you want a coat of paint on them.)
“I don’t know her last name…” (But she works at 3M and her first name is Jennifer.)
The wedding inquiry. (Um…your timing leaves something to be desired.)

When you feel as if you’re about to lose all control, you just remind yourself that it’ll all be over soon. And there’s pizza in the break room.

What’s on your bingo scorecard?

Stories, The Baboon Congress

A Stranger At The Door

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Today’s post comes from Joanne in Big Lake

Ours wasn’t the first door she knocked on during a frigid Minnesota evening.  Bedraggled, vulnerable but still pretty, 19-yr old Emily showed up on our doorstep, desperately looking for help.  How she ended up in Big Lake is a mystery and the last 3 days were a fuzzy high for her.  Kicked out of her parent’s house a year before, she was another sad story of a homeless teen with no job, no money, no place to live and an admitted meth amphetamine user.  Even her wallet and ID were left somewhere else.

All she had was a phone that had no service or number.  She needed a Wi-Fi in order to contact friends via Messenger to find a place to go.  My husband happened to be home because he was sick and left work early.  I was busy making supper, so Jim answered her knock on the door and brought her into our hearts.  I was suspicious, but Jim has a big heart and talked to her to figure out what she needed.

After a several minutes of talking to her, she did not want to see the police or go to the doctor to be checked out.  After giving her some snacks, Jim drove her to a nearby Coborns store where they have free public Wi-Fi, and she eventually contacted a trusted friend with a place to stay.  I called a youth homeless shelter to find out what else we could do or where she could go.  They had an emergency bed available for the night in Brooklyn Park, but we could not make her go.

So Jim drove Emily to her friend’s house in Blaine, listened to her story and showed great kindness with a non-judgmental attitude.  I prayed and cried for her and hope for the best for her.  Unfortunately, I fear she has a brutal and possibly short life ahead of her until she makes some serious changes.

When have you done a good deed for someone and wondered about the outcome?

Stories, The Baboon Congress, Travel

Grimm Business

139 Comments

Today’s post comes from Renee in North Dakota

The brothers Grimm wrote many fairy tales set in Niedersachsen, the northern part of Germany where my mother’s family came from. There is a complete travel itinerary from Hannover up to the coast where you can see the settings for many of the stories. It is called The Fairy Tale Road. The stories are not, by and large, comforting, but are, I think, important pieces of literature. I suppose that because my family is so closely associated with Bremen I always was drawn to the story of the Bremen Town Musicians. I remember reading the story in the set of Child Craft books my mother got for me in the mid-1960’s, complete with the picture of the statue in Bremen’s main square. I was really excited to see  that statue  on our May trip. Both my son and daughter in law were familiar with the story, and they were excited to see the statue, too.

20160512_120200Imagine my dismay when I printed out some travel photos and showed my coworkers the photo of the donkey, dog, cat, and rooster, all making a clamor to scare the thieves away from the farm house, and very few people had ever heard of the story! I could understand why many of our American Indian friends didn’t know the story. They felt so sorry for the animals being neglected and discarded by their owners. Perhaps I am naive, but I thought most Americans  my age with any sort of education would know of the Bremen Town Musicians. After all, 46% of  North Dakotans claim German heritage. Well, I was wrong.

I rubbed the donkey’s nose after I took the photo in the square, grateful for my parents’ enriching my life with literature.  After the dismal recognition rate from my coworkers, I vowed that any grandchildren I may have will know this story.

What stories do you think are essential for children to hear and read?

 

 

 

Stories, The Baboon Congress

The Egg Carton

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Today’s post comes from Verily Sherrilee.

I found the egg carton today.

About 30 years ago I began throwing a holiday party – a silly gift exchange. I’d been to one at a co-worker’s and thought it was a lot of fun. Then 28 years ago I met Alan; he’d been hired as the loss prevention specialist at my company. He had just moved back to the Twin Cities with Julie and their three daughters so I invited them to the party that year. After a lot of gift swapping, Alan got stuck with a red plastic camping egg carton. As I was cleaning up I found it stuck back behind a couch cushion.

This began a 28-year campaign of dumping the egg carton back on each other. EggCarton1 It’s been delivered in a box of flowers, left in an Easter basket, sent to an office via a software company in Boston, buried in an ice lantern, left under a mattress, in the dog food barrel, left in the laundry room of a new house. It’s even been to Sweden and Switzerland!

Twenty-eight years ago it was just a prank; I didn’t know at the time that it would also be the beginning of a wonderful, life-changing friendship. Alan and Julie are kind, generous people, sharing their lives with me and Young Adult all these years. We spend our holidays with them and it’s been a joy to see their three girls grow up, get married and start families of their own.

I had a full house at this year’s party and I was pretty sure I would be in possession of the egg carton by the end of the night, even after I frisked Alan and Julie at the door. The last two weeks have been spent poking into cabinets, opening drawers, checking under the sofa, even looking into the dog food barrel again. This morning I took all the ornaments off the tree and as I pulled the lights off, I found a package wrapped in green paper and “decorated” with greenery boughs – the egg carton!

I’ve now sent off the obligatory “You Rat!” text and am busy thinking up how I can dump the carton on them!

Do you have a “new year” ritual?