Happy Birthday, big guy!

Two birthdays in one week you're asking?

Yup. . . and today's feature is Dave picking up his new (to us) 1998 Royal Star Tour Classic touring bike on Saturday when there was a break in the weather before the next last snowstorm of the year--an exciting day for him because it has been over two years since he's ridden. Before then he owned a Yamaha Virago that he literally rode into the ground and reluctantly put out to pasture when we moved to Minnesota. He was smitten by motorcycle riding at age 7 when he put his hand on the shiny exhaust pipe of a motorcycle he'd seen in Red Lodge, Montana. He left a little skin behind and kept dreaming of the day when he would ride one himself. He's made several cross country trips, riding and writing, on the Virago, as well as Illinois events--yearly Ride for Kids and Toys for Tots and countless charity and poker runs. He rode with fellow veterans as part of Veterans for Kerry' Tour of Honor in '04 on a speaking trip through Wisconsin. For several years he attended the Rolling Thunder® PoW/MIA Demonstration Ride in Washington, D.C. on Memorial Day--Erica rode once with him when she was in undergrad there. I rode with him on the Trail of Tears Remembrance Ride from Tennessee to Alabama one year. He's active in CMA's yearly Run for the Son and the ministries of that Association, was president his chapter in Illinois for 3 years, and is presently VP of this local chapter, RevElations.

Now that we have a bike to ride we are both planning to join BACA (Bikers Against Child Abuse) which requires one year riding with them before starting the membership process. I'm impressed with these bikers who are willing to step out to offer protection and advocacy for abused children. Being a fair-weather rider, I enjoy cruising the winding back roads scouting out antique stores and roadside stands. This bike has an exceptionally comfortable back seat and foot boards instead of pegs, roomy side bags and there's plenty of room for both of us. For now, as long as we can, this will be the next chapter in our empty-nest, apartment, no pets-- life. . .actually how we started out 37 years ago.

So, here we go:

Thursday's child has far to go.

Yesterday was Erica Joy's 27th birthday--the Joy is for the joy she has brought into our world. She's always been the, umm, busy one in our family, the one up for a challenge and actually pretty adept at not getting caught at some of her. . .pursuits. Outdoorsy, pyrotechnic aficionado. smarty-pants, saxophone playing, boxer, friend to unfortunate animals and people, generous, silly, energetic cook, med student, sister to Audrey and daughter who is dearly loved.

Her birth flower is the rose but not her favorite. The diamond gemstone of April is perfect--although she'd argue the fairness of the diamond business--because she generally has to work hard to get where she wants to be. But she shines as clear and brilliant as a diamond. As parents, Dave and I are the luckiest.

E is for

Elated!

I found this black and white snapshot in a basket of photos in an antique shop in St. Paul recently. The boy on the far right next to the girl with her little concertina is named 'Chopper.'

The back of the photo reads:

'Chopper & the Jim Swoyer children on

his birthday in Nov. 1951.'

Always the sucker for old photos, the faces on these children made me elated and I couldn't leave the store without it. [Check out the old doll the other little boy is holding. And those braids: that could have been me a few years later.] Priceless expressions all, each in his or her own way. And so I put two and two together and decided that to be invited to Chopper's birthday party must have been enough to make them feel elated!

Learn more about ABC Wednesday here.

Life is some scary stuff!

This October is an anniversary month of sorts for me: I turned 57, I left my library job on October 13th last year and this week marks a year since the movers dropped off our life's belongings and I began unpacking. I let the rain last week irritate me until I realized I was moping around under the spell of the 'anniversary reaction' but this week I'm beginning to think of myself as a Minnesotan. A year of adjustment, exploration and healing of mind & body has literally flown by and here I am feeling a new sense of belonging in my space on the planet. During this period of adjustment I've had the luxury of not working an outside job but that prospect is looming again. Here's the part where I can make the admission that 'I don't wanna!' and not get slapped or laughed at. I'm a homebody to the depths of my melancholy heart and nobody enjoys her freedom more than me. . .not to say that I'm not a good worker, etc. and admittedly I miss library work, but finding a job is always a scary proposition for me. Not one to rush into things, I've found a creative way to address my fear using Eleanor Roosevelt's mantra about facing fear and the 'Be Brave Project' on the delightful blog Diary of a Self-Portrait where Josie explains about doing one thing every day that scares (the hell out of) you . She is also a talented artist so her illustrations are beautiful as well as witty and encouraging.

Our weekend took us west to St. Joseph to visit the St. Benedictine Monastery and an exhibit called THE VISION UNFOLDING: From Eichstätt, Bavaria, to St. Joseph, Minnesota – 150 Years about the history of the Benedictine Sisters in America. 'Six nuns from St. Walburg Abbey in Eichstätt, Bavaria, emigrated to St. Cloud in 1857 to teach the children of European settlers and later relocated to St. Joseph in 1863 to build a monastery. The nuns have engaged in a variety of work, from farming to the domestic and fine arts. They baked, cooked, cleaned, laundered, sewed, bound books, wove cloth, designed vestments and made candles. They have been administrators, organists, liturgists, catechists, archivists, librarians, poets, mentors, tutors and advocates for the poor.' (St. Cloud Times, 7/07) I was interested in this monastery because I spent six years of elementary school taught by Benedictine nuns who originated from this first convent in the United States. My own experience wasn't the best, remember that was the 1950's, but I still have great admiration for their courage and faith. As I walked through the cemetary I realized that most of the young nuns who came after the first seven arrived had died from poor living conditions, weather and tuberculosis. The average age at death was 28 for several years running.

St. Joseph's Orphanage at St. Paul, MN - 1880

“Every wall is a door.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dave & Pashka, my Husky-dog