Johnson's Berry Patch

I'm a fair weather berry picker.  I love to pick berries but the conditions have to be just right (low humidity and few Mosquitos).  Last Sunday morning, we grabbed three buckets and headed down the road to Johnson's Berry Patch.

  

This "honor system" berry patch was cared for by Mr. & Mrs. Johnson for years and years with love.  Now the old green van is left unattended but there are still rows and rows of beautiful raspberries to pick.

My husband and little pickers worked hard gathering berries.

I had a tiny helper too.

Then it was off to the scale to weigh our bounty.

We ended up with two delicious pounds to snack on.  They didn't last long at our house, we will have to head back when the conditions are just right to restock. 

Writers block, a long winter, 3 boys and a broken computer

I haven't written for a long, long time.  What started out as "writers block" turned into a broken computer followed by the arrival of my third son.  Adding a third child to our great country life seemed to fill what little leaks of time that I had to write, blog and peruse social media! 

Winter was brutal this year....and with summers arrival and a baby who sleeps through the night (most of the time), I feel renewed.  My field is full of wildflowers and the days are long right now.  Thanks for reading, hope to be more consistent...who knows though?!  

4th of July brought fireworks and delicious food at the lake!  

My older two boys waiting for the boat to come in!

good in the world

I believe in the good of the world.  After the bombings on Monday at the Boston Marathon, I did what many other people did; I shuddered, my stomach turned and I mumbled the words, “and just like that,” I was leaving a massage and heard the news from a lady entering a yoga class in the same studio.  I came home, heard what I could on the radio about the horror as I prepared dinner for my family.  After my two young boys were tucked snugly in their cozy beds in their cozy rooms and I had thanked all that is bigger than I am for the blessings in my life, I went online and read more on different news outlets and social media.  I saw the comments people were making and felt the fear and the anguish people were feeling through their comments.  I felt trapped by the fear and the anguish and then I started thinking of the good in the world, the moments, the smells, the babies, the humor, the light, the reasons, the love, the movements, the music, the brave, the hope.  I believe there is more good in this world than not.  I see it every day, I hear it every day, and I will share it every day.  

cold snap

Winter is hard in Minnesota; it’s been below zero (quite a bit below zero) more days than not over the past few weeks.  It’s not so bad when you can get outside and cross country ski or snowshoe or ice fish or whatever is your winter activity (and you’d better get one if you don’t have one up here), but when you are trapped inside it gets hard.  I spent the better part of two evenings last week dreaming of trips to Maui and Bali.  I even went so far as to create a couple trips on a travel website, getting temptingly close at the payment page to entering my credit card information.  I feel bad for my son’s Kindergarten teacher, last week there was NO outside recess all week…imagine NO recess for a class of 23 Kindergartners, the majority of them boys who need to run a bit (or a bunch) in order to concentrate for the rest of the day.  Everywhere you go, people lament….

“Why do we live here?”

“Why do I live in this god forsaken place?”

“If it weren't for my (fill in the blank here….husband, family, job, mortgage), I’d move somewhere warm,”

“I HATE winter, I mean, I can handle the snow but I can’t stand this COLD weather.  At least when it’s warmer you can get outside and (fill in the blank….fish, ski, breathe without freezing your lungs).”

All of this accompanies living in the land of four seasons, along with the constant chatter about the weather.  Minnesotan’s love to talk about the weather, commiserate, rehash old storms and seasons and in general, weave it deeply into the fabric of our lives.  If you read back through my posts, that is evident and I’m not even an old timer at coffee. 

When I think of my life, I don’t think of it as months or dates, but rather seasons….

“He died in the spring,”

“I’ve had fall babies,”

“Four winters ago we moved in to our new house,”

And so on and so forth.

So, back to my original thought, winter is hard here.  I get a little stir crazy, which is typically accompanied by learning a new hobby, planning fake vacations (which someday I will actually punch that credit card number in and go on).  We eat hot dishes and watch old movies; I have a stack of paperbacks on my nightstand to work through.  Sometimes we play chess or Monopoly.  We go to bed early; we snuggle in cozy blankets, and generally hunker down.  Then the cold snap passes and it warms up a tad, and slowly like a hibernating bear we poke our heads out, bundle up and head outside.  We snowshoe and ski, we sled and ice fish.  My husband recently pulled his old snowmobile out from the woods and got it running again…it’s from when he was in high school 16 years ago, I’m not sure if it is considered VINTAGE quite yet.  He pulls the boys on the sled round and round the field.  Then after a couple hours and rosy cheeks we trek inside, hanging the wet, snowy winter clothes all around the mudroom, swinging the children over the already forming water puddles so their wool socks don’t get wet and have hot cocoa and generally hunker down.  Yes, winter is hard here, but it’s also quite magical.  A time when I become a bit turned inward and spend lots of time cozy with my family dreaming of summer, talk about buying a boat, what lakes I want to kayak and looking through seed catalogs….a great country life lived in four seasons.

a walk in the woods

Fall is perfection to me.  My senses come alive, not burdened by the mud of spring, the mugginess of summer or the cold of winter.  The smell of crackling leaves, crisp air, grass, pumpkin, and wood smoke invade my nostrils.  The sight of brightly colored maple and birch leaves in their reds and yellows dazzle my eyes.  The sound of geese honking, crows cawing, leaves crackling, chainsaws buzzing in the distance is a great comfort to me.  

I relish all that fall is and look forward to it all year long.  

Sweaters and down vests, football season, the excitement of hunting and the newness of the school year.  Pumpkin beverages and desserts accompany delicious soups, stews and hot dishes (as casseroles are called in Minnesota).

Even though I love parts of all the seasons in Minnesota, fall is the season I love in its entirety. I embrace it, drink it in, long for it when it's gone.  To be in the woods after a summer banished to the lakes because of the stickiness and the pesky bugs is perfect. 

Spending frosty Saturday mornings hiking (I'm using that term loosely, it is a combination of walking, stumbling, meandering and trudging) through the woods with my fellow woods lover and dear friend is a combination of exercise, meditation, therapy, relaxation, escape and sheer joy.    

three steps

Today, I dropped my first born off at Kindergarten.  On the way there he said, “Mom, I don’t really need you to go in with me.”  After the chest pains subsided, I said, “well I have to talk to your teacher, how about I walk in behind you,” My eyes in the rearview mirror watching him contemplate this and then finally, “I guess that would be ok, but I don’t need you to come in.”  As I sat there trying to keep my composure I heard the words my dad told my mom at one point when my brother and I were not cooperating with her “life plans” for us…”That’s what happens when you raise independent children.”

So down the hallway of the elementary school that I had started Kindergarten in 23 years ago, I followed three steps behind as my baby walked a walk that I doubt I’ll ever forget his head held high with a confident stride.  I could not have been more proud but a part of me wanted to cry.  When we got to his class he did allow me a quick hug and kiss and then that was it, he was a Kindergartner.  Even though I know my work as a mother is so far from over, I somehow felt like I was giving my baby to the world for the first time.  New ideas and ways of thinking will push him to grow and challenge me as a parent.  It will be a great journey together. 

As I drove to work I thought about everything, every milestone, every tear spilt (by him and by me), I thought about the time I hid in the bathroom because he was driving me crazy, about the moments I’ll never forget as a mother…the first time his cry split through the air, the smell of his hair when he was a baby, the first time he walked, the time he told me he was a robot and he couldn’t shut off the naughty button because it was on his back and he could not reach it, the first time he rode his bike without training wheels, the look on his face when he saw his baby brother for the first time.  I thought of him at 2 years old on cross country skis and at 5 years old on water-skis. I thought of him at 3 months old sleeping on his daddy’s chest and I thought of him at 1 year old holding his daddy’s hand as they walked down the driveway at our new property (that is now our home).  I thought of him then walking down the hallway toward Kindergarten and then I saw all that was to come. 

He's my first born; he’s been with me since the start.  He’s seen the worst of my mistakes and the greatest of my triumphs as a mother.  He will survive and thrive because of me and in spite of me.  And like all things with the first born, we will figure it out together (sometimes holding hands and sometimes with him three steps ahead blazing the trail).    

the twilight of summer

One of my favorite views in Northern MN

I realized that I haven't posted in over a month....as summer winds down in northern Minnesota I do not spend much time in doors but rather soaking up the warmth before the cold traps us inside...

The Twilight of Summer

Trip to Twins Game

Getting local sweet corn ready to freeze for winter