Lucia Day: Of cats and saints

By |

For the first time since this little blog began I skipped St. Lucia Day. No scent of citrus and saffron wafted from our oven throughout the house. No sweet buns shaped like S’s found their way to our breakfast table. Not a single home-made, IKEA-bagged, or bakery-baked Lussebulle or Lussekatt eaten on this most awesome of holidays. Continue Reading

Christmas blessing

By |

I was not born into a handy family. My dad never owned a power saw, router, grinder, etc. (the best I’ve done so far is acquire a sawzall) so we didn’t work on any do-it-yourself labor intensive home improvement projects growing up. The biggest annual “handy” project that my dad had to do every fall was put up and hammer nails into boards to cover the screens in the screen porch that was attached to our detached garage back in my hometown of Duluth. That was always a big event and a big deal. To his credit my dad never once complained about having to do it. When I was a teenager I realized that my dad didn’t care for this task very much but he knew it was something that had to be done; just like he knew that it was better for the life of the driveway to shovel down to the pavement and breaking through the inch or so of ice that would sometimes build up on top of the driveway. This is something that my dad always did and always wanted us to do even if my brother and I didn’t always want to do it. Keeping the driveway as clear from snow and ice as is possible in Duluth, MN paid off because the blacktop on the driveway never needed to be replaced in the 14 years that I lived in the house. My dad did all of this with basic metal and plastic shovels. Maybe he used an ice pick every once in a while but it wasn’t very often. Who says you need expensive tools to do certain jobs right? Continue Reading

The River Bench series: Garden encounter

By |

The Cherokee Heights Garden Club has celebrated seventy-five years of service. They have faithfully beautified and tended the flowers on Smith Avenue at the High Bridge for years. Returning from a walk in Cherokee Park, I pass by the High Bridge flowerbeds. A seventy-something woman is tending the spider lilies and bachelor buttons, deadheading a few and weeding between the plants. She has brought a minimal set of tools in a basket. I nod as I walk by, giving her a thumbs up for her work and continue on my way north toward the river bench. Continue Reading

What’s German for ‘bah humbug’?

By |

So it seems our little Holidazzle Market has some critics. Apparently, it’s not stroller or kid friendly enough. Apparently it’s outrageous to stop offering the same old free entertainment the patronage for which was insufficient to induce downtown businesses to continue supplying it. Apparently it’s just uncouth to ask visitors to contribute a small amount of money to cover the costs. Apparently the organizers are supposed to be thankful if people just browse for free. Continue Reading

Lefse day!

By |

We began as a hodgepodge of lefse-loving Minnesotas with Lutheran-church-basement-ladies-envy who wanted to learn the art of potato flatbread. Through the years we’ve each developed an important role in the day, contributing our skills to the balling, rolling, lifting, and griddling. Those skills have progressed and we are now Masters. This is our 7th year together, and we are an awesome, dangerous, motley crew of self-taught lefse makers. Continue Reading