The Recliner Misadventure

For many years, Bob was a serial recliner buyer. He always loved the chair for a couple of weeks until its shortcomings began to show. After a year or so, he was usually in the market for a new one -- until he found the great Hooker Esme recliner in August of 2018.

Two days after our move-in date, we were expecting the delivery of a new couch for the family room so I decided to move the recliner blocking a traffic lane near the west window. Bob was out, but he had adamantly objected to my plan before he left the house. Since I'm accustomed to moving furniture on my own, so I went ahead anyway and all was well until I plugged in the chair and tried it out. After a few seconds, I heard terrible sounds under me.

Seems the power cord was too short and the power supply itself got caught in the chair mechanism. Crunch, crack, pieces all over the floor. I jumped out of the chair and turned it over, failing to unplug it. Sparks were flying and I managed to give myself a shock, not too bad and perhaps something of a punishment for my foolishness. I gathered up most of the pieces and put them in a baggie. I immediately called the sales rep from HOM Furniture who had sold Bob the recliner and was working with us on current purchases. 

Bob soon arrived home and, not for the first time in the 37 years we've been married, I found myself on the wrong side of stupid, though this was my first chair offense. More pieces of plastic fell out of the chair onto the new carpeting. Cat moved into the doghouse and a long month of anguish began.

A new part was ordered but rejoicing soon turned to frustration when it turned out to be the wrong one. I contacted the manufacturer myself and somehow the right power supply was ordered and we received it a few days before my birthday. Miracle of miracles: we connected the part, plugged in the chair and tested functionality. All perfect after five agonizing weeks.

The pricey wrong part was returned and the full price refunded after dozens of text messages, emails and phone calls, extending an issue that could, and should, have been resolved within a week or so. There may be limits to what can be blamed on COVID-19.

The Big Move

Construction photos.

We lived with Meggan and Scott in Woodbury for over two months, and the time passed very quickly, as we settled into a comfortable (for us) life in the beautifully renovated lower level, with our own bathroom, wet bar and patio door exit. We often saw turkeys, rabbits, squirrels and songbirds from our quarters, the main level of the house and the wide deck overlooking the treed grounds, with an old barn and farmer's cornfield in the distance . Our hosts were welcoming and gracious, and we enjoyed their company.

After the turmoil of early June following the George Floyd murder, suddenly our move was imminent. We visited our homesite almost every day until our formal walkthrough, when the house was cleaned and made ready for occupancy. A week later, on June 30, we completed a final walkthrough with Brenden Englund, the construction manager, and then showed up at Ohio Title in St. Louis Park to sign closing documents.

The closing was a little bizarre in the new order imposed by COVID-19. We sat across a table from the closer, separated by a plexiglass divider in the table. Documents were passed back and forth under the divider, much as they would be at a bank with protective glass for the tellers. I, however, felt like a prison visitor and almost expected to be frisked.

In about 10 days, we'll celebrate two months in the new house. The challenges of the first few days, like finding towels and dinnerware, were replaced by slogging through moving boxes, buying necessities (mostly online), and making the house feel like home. Scott -- the project manager for this entire adventure -- installed dimmer switches in the dining room, family room, under the kitchen counters, in one bathroom. He's adding towel rails to the bathroom and laundry, and will soon hang pictures on the wall.

Some obstacles have been both frustrating and sometimes discouraging. Among these: getting our Xfinity (cable/Internet/phone) bill straightened out, managing furniture delivery and returns (delayed because of supply chain problems attributed to the pandemic), living in a field full of mud and weeds until landscaping was completed on August 8, the damage I inflicted on Bob's recliner -- a topic covered in another story.

We love our new house! So much efficiently used space with a convenient layout for everything. The window treatments provide control over light; temperature is consistent through the house; there is plenty of room for Bob and me to be together or do our own thing. The neighborhood is nestled into a small area near the Woodbury/Lake Elmo border, so we have easy access to the amenities of Woodbury and I-94/the I-494/I-694 loop circling the Twin Cities. Grocery stores are located a few minutes away, and parking lots aren't packed as they were in our former neighborhood.

People ask me if I miss the house we lived in for so many decades. The answer is always "no", though I feel a little sad that it was so easy to close the door on the past and move on. Only a little regretful, though -- I wake up happy every morning and am thrilled that everything is progressing as it should.

Tragedy in Minneapolis

George Floyd was killed on Memorial Day in a Minneapolis police incident memorialized in nine agonizing minutes of video that almost immediately went viral. A police officer, later identified as Derek Chauvin, kneels on the victim's neck as he pleads for help, repeatedly saying "I can't breathe".

Two days of protests and chaos followed. Some protesters looted a Target in south Minneapolis, about 4 miles from our former home. Last night, clashes with police continued as fires ravaged throughout that neighborhood. Yesterday, protesters gathered outside the home of Derek Chauvin in Oakdale, an eastern Twin Cities suburb about 20 miles from the incident and not far from where I am right now.

Minneapolis Police Chief Medario Arradondo fired the four officers involved and observers around the world are demanding charges. Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey is outraged; a “shocked and horrified” Governor Tim Walz and Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison promise justice; the Federal Justice Department and the FBI pledge to undertake a “robust criminal investigation”.

When I moved to Minnesota nearly four decades ago, I was surprised to hear only English on the street and see mostly Caucasian faces in a crowd. Although the state has become more diverse, as reported in this 2018 article, racial disparities are evident from an anecdotal perspective and poverty statistics. The numbers are painful to contemplate and call out for change, on institutional and personal levels

The killing and its aftermath are so disturbing, a terrible tragedy that compounds the effects of several fatal racially charged incidents over the last few years. I'm really sad and so very sorry.

Farewell 2048 Goodrich!

Bob lived at 2048 Goodrich for 55 years. At a few months short of 37 years, I was also one of  the block residents with the most longevity.

We had been planning our move for many months but plans didn't begin to materialize until the house sold quickly to a young couple who made an offer on the day it was listed. All of a sudden we had to be out by 9:00 a.m. on May 1!

The serious work started when we returned from Florida on March 25. Scott jumped into action and created a tentative moving schedule that included enlisting Chris, John, Adam and Mitchell. With a few exceptions, we're buying new furniture so we gave away or pitched most things, and sold a couple on a community marketplace Facebook site.

Scott hauled his large snowmobile trailer and filled it pretty much to capacity. Last Saturday, we were almost finished, but still had odds and ends (too many) to deal with. Meggan and Scott graciously offered us their newly refinished lower level, where the view is beautiful and the comfortable, cheerful space provides respite from all the stress of moving. Our hosts could teach the hospitality industry a lot.

Bob a I moved more stuff Sunday and Monday. Sonia came yesterday to help clean  (what a godsend her presence was) and Junk360 picked up what neighborhood scavengers left in the alley.

I left appliance instruction books on the buffet along with keys and garage door openers. We read the water meter and just like that, we were done and gone. Final walkthrough is Thursday afternoon and on Friday, the new owners will take over.

Goodbye peonies, Bob's roses, prairie garden and majestic centenarian oak tree! Goodbye, beloved house! Thanks for all the fun and deep joy, for the six kids you sheltered, for precious memories and so much love.

Life at Home #stayathomemn

We've been under a stay-at-home order for over a month now -- how long doesn't really seem to matter, because we seem to have adapted to the new distanced reality imposed on us by COVID-19. We've figured out grocery shopping, the pharmacy and necessary trips to Menard's for moving boxes, tape and other supplies. I plan my route through the store in advance and I always wear a mask. It's routine now, so I have one in my purse and another on the seat of my car

Once I got the curbside pickup thing figured out, I thought I would order all groceries online, but that didn't really work out except once. Demand for the service seems to exceed capacity, and I haven't succeeded in getting a workable pickup or delivery time at either Cub Foods or my favorite Lund's & Byerly's. Seems "in person" is the way to go, armed with a good list.

I shopped once at Lund's, and although it was only 7:00 a.m., the store was full of slow-moving shoppers and the wait at check-out seemed like forever. Instead, I switched to the nice, new Cub just across the Ford Bridge in Minneapolis. This morning, I was there way before 7 and zipped through the store like a pro, which I definitely am not. The checkout guy seemed desperate for conversation, conducted as I packed my bags (paper, not the re-usable ones I washed when we got home from Florida), all at a greater than 6-foot distance.

#stayathomemn has been extended through May 4.


https://mn.gov/governor/covid-19/

Empty Attic

Way back in the mid-80s, Bob and I cleaned the attic, but didn't empty it. Instead, it filled up again. Dealing with the contents has been a major task in the decluttering project initiated last fall. Our house closing is May 1, so obviously I needed to complete the job.

Among the oldest items was a box with dusty quilted nylon bathrobes that must have belonged to one of the girls who grew up in this house, decades before me. Of course, I recognized the clothes from old photos and felt a little sad they went in the trash.

I also found an oil painting covered with attic dust and dirt. I remembered being unable to throw it away all those years ago, and couldn't do it yesterday either. No one seems to recall its provenance, so I think it may have been in the house when Bob and his first wife, Sandy, took possession in 1965. I "reverse imaged" a photo on the Internet, with no luck, but maybe this picture will job someone's memory.

I cleaned the painting kind of following instructions for amateur conservators. However, I'm a little too squeamish to do much with Q-tips and spit, so  I ended up outside this morning with a dry paintbrush for the worst of the dust, and a damp cloth to wipe off the darkest stains. The canvas brightened up immediately and I'm looking forward to finding a frame.

It will find a good spot in the new house.

Field Trip to Menard's

We returned from Florida four days ago, and although we haven't been in quarantine, like people returning from another country, we  kept to ourselves, even before Friday's stay-at-home order. Son Chris delivered necessities we had trouble finding, like Kleenex, toilet paper, hand sanitizer and coffee.

We're allowed to go for walks, hit the compost site, as well as shop for groceries and other necessities. Fortunately, permissible destinations include hardware stores. Yesterday, I tried, without success, to buy moving boxes from Menard's online store, so today Bob drove me over to the local Menard's, where I also picked up a few other items, including snacks and drinks.

Minnesotans are an obedient lot and no one in the store went beyond anyone else's invisible six-foot personal space. Disinfectant wipes were prominently displayed at the entrance, so I wiped down my cart.  The person ahead of me at checkout moved quickly and I maintained  my distance from the cashier. The employees were obviously well trained and the store seemed like a safe place to be.

New Normal

I really hope this so-called "new normal" doesn't last!I miss the daily social exchanges of what used to be everyday life, and laughter! I'm reminded of Cosmo Castorini's father in Monstruck: "Somebody tell a joke!"

Still, my routine is not really so different from my "normal" before we went to Florida. Then, I was decluttering and cleaning in preparation for our move, and I have to keep it up, since the buyers of our house take possession on May 1. Yesterday, I spent the day doing laundry, disinfecting the kitchen, vacuuming. I felt proudest of washing all my re-usable bags and anything from Florida and wiping down our luggage with Lysol wipes. Today I'm going to deal with my purses, shoes and incidentals I missed yesterday.

Friday's other projects:

• wash bed linens and blankets (almost done)
• drive by the new house
• do a little outdoor spring clean-up
• re-visit remaining work in the attic
• fill the trash barrel for Monday
• watch Frozen -- I made the phrase "let it go"  my mantra some time ago but have never seen the movie

For me, the isolation was worse when I was laboring alone in the attic and basement in the weeks before Christmas and during the month of February. However, I will soon begin to miss my lap swimming at the Y and a much needed trip to the hair salon. I did cut my own bangs a few days ago, not very well (no pictures, pease), but good enough for someone who will not be going out any time soon. The Governor's stay-at-home order takes effect just before midnight.

A Long Day Going Home

I was on edge for a week, worried that we would never get out of Florida. Before leaving for home on Monday, March 23, our friends from Wisconsin gave us a frozen cherry pie, barbecued chicken legs, unopened bags of romaine lettuce, tomatoes, a bottle of wine (which I drank all by myself over a couple of days).

I didn't clean the fridge until I was fairly sure our flight would leave on Wednesday morning. I left unopened items in the fridge and on the kitchen table. We dressed for Florida in shorts and left the condo shortly after 8:30 a.m. For the third time, we had to go through the Byway toll without paying the $1.00 toll -- the sign reads something like "Drive through without stopping. You will be billed.". If that happens, the rental agency Budget will bill us, I'm sure. A hassle.

The drive to TPA was a straight shot on 275, with only a little traffic. Smooth car return and check-in before the shuttle to the terminal. The skycap told us that 500, rather than usual 50,000, were expected at the airport that day.

Sure enough, there were only a dozen or so passengers at the gate. We'd decided to fly first class to ensure "social distancing", but it was totally unnecessary. Our flight left at about 12:30 p.m., only a little late. No drinks at all, except water. I really needed a cup of coffee, since I hadn't had time for one before we left. The snack box was pretty good (the hummus box for me; the salami one for Bob). I packed the uneaten snacks in my purse. We watched A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood during the flight -- great movie. Bob wore the N95 mask Chris had sent us UPS, but I had to take mine off, as I couldn't stand the feeling around my head.

Pouring rain at MSP. This usually busy hub was almost empty. We were the first fare for our cabbie, who had been at the airport for about 13 hours! Not ideal transportation, but we had to get home. With no traffic, we were soon in the door.  I immediately threw all my clothes in the hamper and changed.

So good to be in the door, doing normal things like changing the clocks to DST.

The Nanday Parakeets

I'd been trying to get a good photo of a Nanday parakeet since our first visit to St. Pete Beach over a decade ago. Until this year, I would see and hear them regularly at Passe-A-Grille and, later, across the street on the TradeWinds grounds. They are hard to shoot because they're mostly in constant motion. The noise -- which makes me laugh -- is awful!

For a few years, Passe-A-Grille was difficult to access because of extensive infrastructure projects that included roads, sewers and palm tree planting. The birds must have decided to move up the beach, because I haven't seen or heard one in that area since we arrived three weeks ago. They're all here, I think.

Several times a day, the flock travels around our building, screeching the entire way. Two of them seems to have decided to nest together, perhaps in the large palm tree under our condo. They are quieter, heads together, chattering cheerfully, looking totally smitten with each other.

Coronavirus Panic

When we arrived on March 1, we were a little concerned about Coronavirus. By yesterday, after listening to the President's rambling press conferences for a week, we and others are feeling very uneasy.

Minnesota Governor Tim Walz closed schools, bars, restaurants, salons etc. early in the week. Most places of worship cancelled public events and made streamed services available. Archbishop Hebda of the St. Paul Minneapolis archdiocese issued a letter in which he explained the suspension of public liturgies.

In Florida, action seemed to take a little longer. As COVID-19 cases increased in Miami, the jitters became apparent here on the Gulf Coast. Restaurants began to offer curbside pick-up and delivery, but bars and restaurants weren't closed until yesterday. Beaches in Pinellas County closed at 11:59 p.m. yesterday, but I noticed a few beachwalkers this morning.

We haven't been inside a bar or restaurant for at least 10 days. As someone with a "compromised immune system", I am particularly aware of how easily I seem to come down with any kind of virus or infection -- so I began to "self isolate" earlier than most. I was ready to book a flight home at least five days ago! I didn't care about the "sunk costs" for our vacation rental (not cheap, no refunds).

In the end, we decided to leave a week earlier than our planned April 5 departure. After an uneasy night's "sleep", we changed that March 29 departure to Wednesday, March 25. Our Wisconsin neighbors are clearing out on Monday, about 10 days ahead of time. Delta promises some kind of credit for our cancelled flight, but that will take at least 7 days. We dropped $600 for 1st class tickets -- I really didn't like the idea of being squished into a standard seat, where I am always stuck in the middle, usually between two very large people (and I'm not exactly small myself).

The great thing about this is an empty swimming pool! My 7:00 a.m. swim has nearly always been solitary, but even our afternoon dip is quiet, with no more than one or two other swimmers. Yesterday, Bob and I had the entire pool to ourselves for nearly an hour.

These are different times.

Hoarders - Everywhere!

My first stop in St. Pete Beach is always the Dollar Store, where I pick up paper products and cleaning supplies, including splenty of disinfectant. This year, I couldn't find toilet paper, disinfectant wipes, or hand sanitizer for my purse and the car. Apparently people all over the world are hoarding stuff, including toilet paper.

Publix was short of lots of items too, but Norman's Liquors was well stocked. The Sunday farmers' market on Corey Boulevard is closed until April, at the earliest.

The situation became progressively worse as the weeks progressed. Now, at the end of Week 3, we're not even trying. I improvised with baby wipes soaked in Mr. Clean disinfectant spray, which seems to work reasonably well on most surfaces. I have liquid hand soap for every sink. The place has a vague, not unpleasant disinfectant smell.

House for Sale

2048 Goodrich Ave., St. Paul MN  55105.  Since last summer, the plan was to list our house for sale on March 1. In late February, we signed the paperwork with our realtor, Lynn Ault. Lynn soon had pictures taken by her superb photographer and she gave us clear directions on how to leave the house. More cleaning. By the time we closed the door at 5:00 a.m. on Sunday, March 1, I was spent.

Lynn had an open house that very day and we had three offers right away. By the next day, we had accepted the very first offer we received, from a young couple planning to be married at the end of May. We liked the letter she wrote, and the fact that they plan to raise a family in the house. Seemed like a good fit.

A week later, we had a signed purchase agreement. And so, just like that, the "house for sale" became "sale pending".

No 2020 Florida Blog

Most years I publish a Florida blog, but somehow I just couldn't get my act together after creating the basic design. January and February were rough months: I came down with a bad cold shortly after Christmas and missed almost an entire month of swimming. By the time I recovered, I had fallen far behind in the big decluttering project.

My goal had been to be done by the end of January, but I was nowhere near finished. In February, Bob got on board with the effort and started on the workbench area of the basement. He has lived in that house for 55 years, so there was much accumulation, including an ancient sander (so heavy!), a lot of unused tools, and repurposed kitchen cabinets that were built with the house in  1919.

Too much to deal with for two people! As I evaluated the many items on three floors that we didn't want, I spent a couple of sleepless nights wondering what to do. I couldn't deal with the idea of trying to sell it off piecemeal, so I decided to get pricing rom a couple of junk collectors.

Junk360.com  gave me a good bid. A few days later, a couple of guys arrived and spent several hours hauling out a huge corner desk in the office, a heavy loveseat hide-a-bed, an elliptic machine, and a basement full of wood, steel, boards and everything I pulled down from the rafters. The removal gave me a huge lift -- I realized we could indeed get the job done.

We cleaned, pitched, and made many trips to the Goodwill, right up until our departure for Florida on March 1. By the end of February, I was hardly sleeping at all and was, predictably enough, quite manic. Had at least one major meltdown over nothing.

I was too jumpy and unfocused to write anything at all ... until now. And, of course, there is much to report.

Happy 2020!

2020 has a nice ring to it! How the year will unfold is still a mystery, but I feel excited at the prospect of its challenges and full of hope for the future.

2019 was a good year too. On Flag Day, Melissa and Chris welcomed Agnes Cecelia to their happy family. Aggie is a happy, smiley baby who fits right in to our large family. A few weeks ago at the Hennessey Christmas party, (granddaughter) Kaitlyn's son Marcus -- 12-year-old baby whisperer -- picked her up when she got fussy and the cheery baby magically re-appeared.

Last summer we decided to take the plunge and make a move to a new neighborhood in Lake Elmo, a St. Paul suburb much closer to several of the kids' households. Bob's son Scott artfully guided us through the dozens of choices we had to make. I am especially happy with the open floor plan in the new house and the light that will fill the new space.  Groundbreaking on our new home is next week, if all goes well, we'll sell our existing house in the spring and move  in June or early July.

Prairie Garden Year 6

A few weeks ago I was listening to a local gardening program on WCCO radio. Master gardener Theresa Rooney was answering questions from listeners, most of whom were hoping to finally start spring clean-up on still frozen gardens. Ms. Rooney made what seemed to be a startling statement: save your energy by leaving leaves and other organic debris in the soil. I decided to take her advice with the prairie garden.

Chris did his magic yesterday with a gas tilller. This morning I went out before 7:00 a.m., raked in a "compost plus manure" combo, and mixed up my seed (packaged Encap mixes bought with my Mother's Day gift card: wildflower, aromatic, pollinator, zinnia). I carried my bucket to the garden and spread it by the handful over the soil.

I removed only the largest rocks and finished the job within an hour. It was already hot -- yes, HOT! -- so I took off my jacket and hung it on the hook where I'll install the hummingbird feeder a little later today.

Marcella's Quilt

We receive many thoughtful and lovely gifts throughout the year, especially during the Christmas season. I love the home-made treats and ornaments, as well as gift cards to favorite restaurants, teas, coffees and wines that remind me of happy times with the gift givers.

On Saturday, we celebrated  Christmas with the extended Hennessey family. A delicious buffet hosted by son and daughter-in-law Scott and Meggan was followed by gifts. Bob and I received an unexpected family heirloom from daughter Janet and her husband Mark.

Mark's mother, Marcella Schlichting, died on May 6, 2016. She was an accomplished, old-fashioned homemaker and matriarch of a large family. She included quilting among her many skills, and last spring her children shared her collection of quilts among them.

I was brought to tears when I opened the large box containing one of Marcella's beautiful quilts. The quilt is a work of art, constructed of triangles pieced together by hand to make a kaleidoscopic floral masterpiece.

Although this lovely creation belongs in a museum where more people could view and appreciate it, it has already given me so much pleasure. I immediately laid it out on the guest room bed. The next morning, I spread it out in our bedroom and have slept under it now for two nights. It is light in weight, warm and comfortable.

I've always thought of myself as somewhat "crafty" and artistic, but I look at the mistakes and uneven stitching in my current project and know that Marcella would never have completed any piece of work without correcting the errors. Each of her stitches is perfect, every triangle, octagon and star a miniature masterpiece.

I am honored to be getting to know Marcella through her exquisite work.

Influenza A

We got home from Hawaii early Sunday morning and I immediately got to work on laundry, which I polished off by noon. Spent the rest of the day watching football and the evening ended with what was immediately dubbed the "Minnesota Miracle".

With 10 seconds left in the game, the Vikings were behind 24-23, quarterback Case Keenum threw a 61-yard pass caught down the sideline by Stefon Diggs. Unbelievable! Like other Minnesotans, I was still grinning when I woke  up feeling somewhat sick with "flu-like symptoms" (all of them!) on Tuesday morning.

I spent most of the afternoon resting and, by bedtime, I wondered how I'd make it through the night. My sleep was fitful and troubled by weird dreams of myself as an older teenager. I remember lying on the couch in our living room during the Christmas holidays of 1968, feverish and so sick, unwilling and unable to move. It was called the Hong Kong flu , and  though I thought I was dying, I've really had a pretty good half-century since then.

I am considered immune suppressed because of the infusion I get every eight weeks for  Crohn's Disease so I checked in with my gastroenterologist's office. I was advised to get a flu test and sure enough the result was positive for Influenza A. On Wednesday evening, I left Fairview Highland with a prescription for Tamiflu and another for Ventolin.

I didn't read much positive press on Tamiflu but by the next morning I was no longer waiting for death. The Ventolin has helped me breathe easier and while the wheezing isn't gone, it's a lot better. Unfortunately, Bob seems to have developed similar symptoms and his doctor put him on Tamiflu as well. 

Too bad this year's flu vaccine was next to useless.

Joyeuses Fêtes 2017

2017 was a big year. For me, a half century of memories since 1967, the year Canada celebrated the one hundredth anniversary of Confederation and Expo 67, Montreal's World's Fair.  I graduated from high school that year and worked started my first year at McGill University. It was all long ago, so I'm amazed to be in relatively good health and more or less "with the program".

Bob and I were fed up with winter by mid-February so we packed up and headed to Florida a few weeks early. We spent a few days St. Augustine, Florida, our first visit to that historic part of the country. We drove down the coast to Cocoa Beach where we were right on the beach for a week, before crossing Florida to St. Pete Beach. We especially enjoyed seeing other longtime visitors to our "March home", Sunrise Resort on Boca Ciega Bay, as well as meeting up with friends from my hometown of Temiscaming. Florida pics here.

Summer getaways included a family weekend in Wisconsin over Memorial Day, several Corvette trips to the North Shore of Lake Superior and La Crosse, Wisconsin, and a memorable week around Lake Michigan. One great stop was Milwaukee where we stayed on the top floor of the Hilton and enjoyed a fantastic view of the city. The Harley museum was great entertainment one afternoon, full of vintage bikes, photos and artifacts. I spent my usual  long weekend in Stratford with my sister Marilyn. On my way home from Ontario, my brother Steve and his wife June treated me to lunch in Toronto.

On the horizon: Hawaii in January, Florida sometime in February through the end of March, and the wedding of Chris and Melissa in June, when we'll have Melissa's three great kids as bonus grandchildren. 

Merry Christmas to all; Joyeuses Fêtes à tous.

A Time to Mow

Many homeowners in our St. Paul Macalester Groveland neighborhood use lawn services in the summer. Bob has always cut his own grass and I think he was a little reluctant to let me take on some of the work when I retired four years ago.

However, that first summer he was recovering from knee surgery and he could do only limited mowing. Years ago, I used a rotary mower and I made have made a pass or two with a power mower early in our marriage. Mowing an entire lawn was a totally new experience for me.

I was amazed to find that mowing the lawn is a very satisfying activity. It has a beginning and an end, and the process itself is very soothing in its monotony. An added benefit is that no conversation is possible. I put in my ear plugs and just get the job done. I have no interest in listening to music or the radio. Why add a distraction?

I'm half through my fifth summer now, and we divide up the work to get our property done in about an hour, using two mowers. Bob weed whips most weeks and cleans the sidewalk with a power blower. I sweep the deck and wash the tables, and then we enjoy a big glass of water while we admire our work.

It's a good life.

Prairie Garden: Disaster in Year 4?

The promise

Three years ago I surprised myself with an eclectic butterfly and bird friendly display of flowers in what I called my "prairie garden". I thought that I might have something of a green thumb after all, but it's fairly evident that my knowledge and skills are, at best, limited. Still, the results were fine in 2015 and 2016,  and I felt reasonably confident inaugurating another season.

We got off to a rough start with planting after the weather turned cold a few weeks ago, and record May rain wasn't helpful. Bob was happy to postpone most planting until after Memorial Day, but I, never one to procrastinate, was eager to get the soil tilled and ready before our holiday weekend out-of-town junket.

After two seasons of using a spade to loosen the rocky ground, last year Bob rented a gas tiller and prepared the soil for me. This is not something I can do on my own, as the machine is very heavy and somewhat temperamental. I can pull the cord to start it, but it has to be primed and perfect for it to work. Definitely beyond me.

Anyway, yesterday was the day. The machine was even heavier than I remembered and, once started, it tended to run away with the operator. Bob gave himself a break and off I went through the garden. The tiller pulled me forward: I thought I would fall head first into the rocky, churned up earth until I was relieved of my duties and relegated to the sidelines.

The job got done. Time to plant. A few weeks ago, I was seduced by one of those flyers in the weekend newspaper, showing a happy gardener unrolling a carpet of beautiful pollinator friendly summer flowers. I was hooked: I imagined a Jack-in-the-Beanstalk magic transformation into a farmers' market harvest of beauty. Within a few days, my online order arrived:  five large plastic envelopes of seeds embedded in 8 sq. ft. sheets of heavy biodegradable, compostable paper.

My border looks like toilet paper

As promised, it was easy to cut the sheets into the "desired size and shape". I made strips of paper for a sunflower seed border along the east side of the garage. By then, it was mid-afternoon and a wind had come up, so I needed to anchor down the paper, first with some of the rocks still in the soil and then with the "1/8 " of topsoil recommended by the directions. My carpet of flowers looked like old toilet paper.

Then I tackled the bird and butterfly friendly planting. I wanted to leave myself a little path for weeding, so I divided the plot into triangles, and placed half a sheet in each triangle. By the time I finished, the rectangles looked like a random landing of old white towels, covered with black dirt -- not the topsoil layer, since it had settled in clumps at various spots on the paper. Nevertheless, I watered the mess, as directed.

The reality ... for now

"What the hell kind of pattern is that?", asked Bob. Dismayed and discouraged, I scrambled to straighten the rectangles. They were soaking wet and ripped a little under the weight of the topsoil layer. By the time I finished, pressing shredded paper into the earth so it wouldn't blow away, I was sweating. Since coverage is obviously insufficient, I will be supplementing my carpeted mess with the same seed I've used in the past.

My workfree artistic venture has evolved into a secondary salvage project. There will be no miraculous carpet of flowers anytime soon.

Happy Holidays 2016

The State of our Union is Strong ...

I took this photo of the White House last month. 

I love the phrase "the state of our union is strong". When I hear it, read it, or say it, I feel uplifted and optimistic.

I've loved the political process and the art of governing since I was a young child. Some of my first memories are of my dad railing against then Canadian Prime Minister John Diefenbaker and his elation (yes, elation) when Quebec Premier Maurice Duplessis died in office in 1959.  I learned early on that crushing electoral defeats were eventually followed by a shift in attitudes and "victory". One of these victories -- the first I remember for sure -- was that of Jean Lesage, who led Quebec during a turbulent but exciting time in its history.

Last night, Donald Trump was elected President of the United States. He was not my candidate and we turned off the TV as the evening wore on, when stations darkly analyzed the electoral map, pointing out Hillary Clinton's slim chances in battleground states.

The victory was decisive. As of 6:25 a.m. CST: Electoral College: Trump 289; Clinton 218.  In Congress, Republicans have control of both the House (235-191) and the Senate (51-47). Minnesota voted for Clinton, as expected, but not really by much (46%-43%). In the State Legislature, Republicans retained control of the House; the Senate is still too close to call, but the the slim DFL majority in the Senate seems to be threatened. I was almost surprised that Democrat Rick Nolan retained his seat in Congressional District 8, against second time challenger Stuart Mills.

Trump was gracious in his speech after Hillary Clinton called him to concede the election. There are a few protests around the country, but for the most part, the nation is calm. Families divided over the election, including mine, can now get back to some kind of normalcy.

Governing is not easy, and President-Elect Trump faces many challenges as a Washington "outsider". He is a dealmaker but he will learn that compromise isn't easy and one can't always succeed by insulting and disparaging one's enemies.

I heard this morning that Canada's immigration website crashed as Trump's victory seemed certain. I am a dual citizen of the United States and Canada, but although I love Canada, I will not be returning to my native country anytime soon. I've lived in the United States for over half my life now, and Minnesota is definitely home.

It's time to put this ugly election in the rear view mirror. Many who seemed to feel disenfranchised only a few days ago now have the responsibilities that come with leading a new administration. While we face challenging but interesting years, our beloved republic will survive and prosper.

Our country has always been great and the state of our union is still strong.

Remembering Istanbul

Facebook pics.

The terrorist attack on Istanbul's Ataturk airport two days ago reminded me of my visit to Istanbul in the spring of 2008. I was tagging along with my sister Marilyn. a participant in the annual conference of the American Association of Child and Adolescent Psychiatrists. The destination sounded somewhat exotic and exciting, yet "western" enough for me to feel comfortable as a woman in a predominantly Muslim country. I've always liked being among people who are different from me so I thought me pre-trip literature and cursory study of my Turkish language book would be sufficient preparation.

Hilton Bosphorus

Marilyn and I connected easily in Amsterdam and made our way to the departure gate for an uneventful, if crowded, flight to Istanbul. We arrived in that ancient city in the rain, and our first challenge was obtaining a colorful tourist visa at a crowded counter in the airport. We took a cab to the upscale Hilton and enjoyed the ride, charmed by the sight of people fishing off the bridge as we drove by.

Marilyn at her conference

The hotel was lovely and our room gave us a magnificent view of the Bosphorus, where military, commercial and private watercraft moved up and down the river day and night. We started every day with a delicious breakfast of fruit, grains and various meats and loved a morning swim at the hotel's unusual pool. On our first evening, we fought fatigue and ventured a few blocks from the hotel for dinner. Marilyn was determined to eat Turkish delicacies like pork brain, while I stuck with more familiar lamb kabobs and rice or orzo. We ate out most evenings, often at little sidewalk restaurants. Bread and pastries were always excellent.

The language proved to be a bigger barrier than I had anticipated. In the past, I had always been able to communicate wherever I travelled, but Romance languages are easy for someone who speaks one or two, as I do. Turkish is totally different, and the only word I learned was "sutlac", delicious rice pudding that I learned to recognize on the menu, whether or not pictures were provided.

I was a little alarmed by the frosty reception we encountered from many younger service staff, and a little scared the few times we were out after dusk, when men seemed to leer at us, two respectable middle-aged women alone in a strange city. One of our tour guides was in his twenties, taciturn and surly. He spoke excellent English but spent much of his time on his cell phone. His conversations sounded ugly and menacing, especially to someone with as much imagination as I have. When one of us commented on Mustafa Ataturk, the founder of the Turkish Republic, he sneered and seemed to suggest that the best days of the Republic were ahead. In 2008, Islamist sympathies were beginning to become evident, even to a westerner with only a cursory knowledge of a Turkish timeline.

On May 1, I wasn't worried about what I thought would be May Day celebrations. That day I was accompanying Marilyn to the day's meetings, held about a mile from the Hilton. As we walked toward the conference venue, we noticed a rapid gathering of mostly young people walking in our direction. The crowd became very dense, and we walked arm in arm as riot police arrived on the scene, causing anger among protesters. Young men dug bricks out of the street and used them as weapons. The air was filled with the smell and sting of tear gas. The beautiful May morning was full of noise and chaos, and a young student told Marilyn and me to get to safety. "You are not safe", he said. There were many videos published that day; this is one of them.

Bricks were used as weapons

At the time, I thought that the police were exhibiting and unnecessarily violent response to a peaceful protest. Now, I still think the response was excessive, but I'm less sure of the protesters' innocence. Marilyn and I managed to get to the conference and I hastily emailed our families to let them know we were all right. I learned later that there had been little media coverage of the May Day events. In fact, that very morning, Matt Lauer was broadcasting from a ship on the Bosphorus, and the beauty of the city was quite breathtaking.

Lots of beautiful items for sale on the street

That night we looked at the possibility of leaving the city early but we decided to remain and enjoy the rest of our visit. We loved Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, the Topkapi Palace and the Istanbul cisterns. A charming artist and dealer of rugs and antiquities showed us the city from beautiful rooftop patio. Good experiences outnumbered the bad, compensating for the May Day scare and an afternoon when we got hopelessly separated from our tour grop in the Grand Bazaar.

Nevertheless, we were delighted to go home the following week. Our flight to Amsterdam was early so we cabbed to the airport way before dawn. We were at the gate when we learned that our flight had been canceled, and airport personnel made us gather our bags and go back to the terminal, where we had to get ourselves rerouted. The lines were endless and it took forever to get new boarding passes. I regretted having a heavy bag to lug around.

I got a flight to London, then went on to Chicago and eventually MSP. I literally kissed the ground when I finally landed, about 30 hours after the beginning of my journey home. Marilyn spent a sleepless night in Munich before flying home to Toronto the next day.

This week's pictures of the Istanbul airport were shockingly familiar. I remembered the hours we spent there and felt transported back to the awful confusion we experienced, still far from the horror of the terrorist attacks. I was immediately ashamed for complaining about the Istanbul experience all these years.

Turning Thirty

Spring photos.

Today my son Chris celebrates his thirtieth birthday. When I turned thirty myself nearly thirty-six years ago, I thought it was the beginning of the end. I had never expected to live so long (!) and here I was with no clear idea of what I wanted from the rest of my life.

I met my husband just over a year later and the rest is, well, history. I became a mother on the warm May Sunday of Memorial weekend in 1986, and didn't really know what to expect from motherhood. The screaming baby I'd anticipated was, in fact, very quiet and easy. He slept all night at two and a half weeks and simply came along with us wherever we went.

Of course, the simple early months ended as soon as my active pre-toddler struggled  to climb out of his crib, playpen and stroller. For the next five or six years, my "escaper" had to be watched every waking minute and held tightly whenever we went outside. Fortunately, hockey became a favorite sport. After Chris' first hockey practice, he lay in Bob's recliner, sprawled in the chair from exhaustion, and I realized that I had inadvertently found an activity that would both capture his interest and provide a healthy outlet for his restless spirit.

An active, headstrong child is a challenge to raise, but I'm very proud of the way he turned out. My now thirty-year-old is skilled, competent and successful in business and in life. More important, Chris is a good person with a kind and generous heart, whose boundless energy and creativity are contagious.

I now view the decades as a continuum rather than discrete blocks of time, and thirty is simply a point on the maturity scale, with lots of room for growth. For Chris and all who reach this milestone birthday, I hope thirty is the gateway to a future filled with a happy family and good friends.

Mr. Toad Finds a Home

Spring photos.

I think of him as "my" toad. Anyone who grew up in my hometown of Temiscaming, Québec would recognize my nostalgic memories of a childhood filled with wildlife, including lots of amphibians.

I was more familiar with frogs than toads, since one of my favorite spring activities was collecting frogs' eggs from the pond on the dusty old Ville Marie road. Like many other kids, I stored the eggs in a milk bottle filled with pond water, and watch the black dots in the gelatinous eggs develop into polliwogs and, finally, frogs. We released the frogs into the garden when they started to jump around too much to contain in a makeshift terrarium.

I remember seeing toads in wet, leafy areas, minding their own business and quietly eating insects, worms and whatever else seemed appetizing, but I'm not sure I'd even picked one up until a couple of weeks ago.

My husband Bob grew up in the city and had never had a close encounter with a toad until he found one lounging in his Weber grill a few weeks ago. Bob called me to "deal with it" so I picked him up carefully, rinsed him off in the birdbath and laid him it carefully in the grass. A few days later we grilled again and Mr. Toad was back under the grill cover, resting on the propane tank. Same routine to get him out of harm's way.

On Sunday Mr. T. was nowhere to be found and I feared that one of his predators (raccoon, skunk, owl, snake ...) had eaten him. However, this afternoon, he was back on the propane tank and I deposited him on the edge of the birdbath. He soon disappeared into the grass.

The grill is covered and cool now, and I can picture Mr. Toad safely asleep under the cover after enjoying a tasty bug dinner.

Good News!

Spring photos.

Today I went to the new University of Minnesota Clinics and Surgery Center for my Entyvio (vedolizumab) infusion, my only remaining Crohn's medication. The new center is attractive, though not quite as great as I had thought it would be.

I know that a lot of staff who have been toiling for years in dark quarters were looking forward to windows. Well, there are windows all right but many of them let in light but provide no view of the outside.

The treatment room lacked some organization and processes seem to lack uniformity. I was surprised that the sharps disposal container requires a visual check to determine whether it needs emptying. Surely it would be possible generate an electronic alert or notification when the container is x% full. There's still a lot of work to be done before systems satisfy staff and patient needs, but the new smell is wonderful and everything is so clean.

As always, I had some lab tests and for the first time since I became a frequent flyer at Fairview and U of M clinics, all my blood work was normal. My hemoglobin is now 12.1 and the recently problem white blood count is 4.1, both finally within standard range. Dr. Howard, my gastroenterologist, messaged me that the labs looked "amazing".

Although "amazing" is certainly an overused word, the news really was amazing and I am thrilled.

Feeling Great!

Winter photos.

I never appreciated good health until it slipped away, gradually at first, almost imperceptibly. After I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis (MS) in 2004, I accepted the effects of Avonex, a medication that made me ill for at least a day a week for over 10 years. During that time, I had no relapses. I thought the weekly headachy fatigue, like a bad hangover sometimes extending for several days, was the price I paid for being able to work and play without restrictions noticeable to anyone but myself.

My neurologist recommended discontinuing Avonex in August 2014, hoping I would remain relapse free. I almost immediately lost the "hung over" feeling and several MRIs and neurological evaluations showed no change in MS status. However, in early 2014 I began to notice symptoms like nausea and diarrhea that worsened over time, especially after January 2015. Thanksgiving last year I was so ill that I didn't have enough energy to make myself a cup of soup or venture outside. In December, I spent 6 days in the hospital, and was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease.

I finally had an excellent medical team headed by Dr. Justin Howard at the University of Minnesota. By Christmas I was feeling much better and in January I began to think I would recover. I improved over the winter when I was diligently followed by Dr. Howard and nurse practitioners Jennifer Bottom and Ann Bolkcom, all of whom share credit for my general feeling of wellbeing.

Two months after illness claimed most of my strength, I am enjoying a month in Florida. The prospect of the long road trip filled me with apprehension as recently as ten days ago, before we left home. I knew that my stamina was still lacking and I felt somewhat fearful of my heat tolerance and ability to step up my physical activity.

Last year, dismayed that even one lap in the pool tired me out, I attributed fatigue to my age and the fact that I don't swim very often any more. This year, I've been swimming every day in a mostly empty pool and I feel strong, much like my old self, so  I'm giving myself a "pass" so far on the physical activity test. The heat test is still in the future: the temperature has never been higher than 74F.

I'm daring to think that good health is gradually returning. I get a good eight hours of restful sleep most nights, for the first time in many years. I don't worry about "wearing out" or needing to know the location of a nearby restroom. I can go over to the beach and know that I won't be exhausted 15 minutes into my walk. While I still have a long way to go in my recovery, I finally feel like a normal, healthy person, and I'm so grateful.

End of a Recurring Frustration

Winter photos.

Or at least I hope this is the end. I often have trouble with Internet connectivity when I travel and sure enough, I couldn't connect when I arrived at the resort. Now each unit has its own modem (nice an fast) but my old Lenovo laptop gave me only limited connectivity. The PC reached the router but not beyond. Our three Apple devices (iPod, original iPad, mini IPad) and Samsung Galaxy s6 connected perfectly, of course.

I've searched for a solution off and on for about a year, to no avail. One of the proposed fixes was a registry edit to delete all keys referencing any problem router but that didn't work, and other ideas were useless as well. Finally I found this one on a Microsoft forum:


Click on:

• WiFi connection
• View Connection Properties
• Security
• Advanced Settings (opens 802.11 settings)
• Check Enable Federal Information Processing Standards (FIPS) compliance for this network
• OK

Worked like a charm.

Saint Paul Magazine Photography Award

Winter photos.

Last spring I went out to take some pictures the day before a medical procedure. An eagle on Randolph Avenue in Highland Park distracted me from worrying about the next morning.

The summer passed quickly and I almost missed a photography contest sponsored by Saint Paul Magazine, a local publication about a year old. I half heartedly collected a few photographs taken within St. Paul city limits and entered each category. There weren't many entries and all of my photos got some kind of mention in the October 2015 online version of the magazine.

Late in the fall I was notified that my picture of a bald eagle had been selected for publication in the March 2016 print edition. The picture below is similar to the winning photo, also featured online.

Eagle in Highland Park - similar to the photo submitted to Saint Paul Magazine

Magazine archives are here.

Y-M-C-A!

Midway YMCA, St. Paul

Winter photos.

I was eligible to join the Y for a reduced rate last August, when I turned 65. One of the benefits of my health insurance, Health Partners Freedom Plan, is membership in a health club -- including the Y and many others within a few miles of our home -- for $25 a year. Unfortunately, I was too sick to take advantage of this great benefit until recently.

After my December stay in the hospital and subsequent slow recovery, I finally felt ready to take on a regular exercise program. A few weeks ago, Bob and I joined the new Midway YMCA on University Avenue about a mile from our home. A few days later, we met with a personal trainer for an introduction to the Y and a tour of the brand new gym. Kerry showed us how to use the machines in the beautiful, bright gym and we soon became regular Y attendees. Our membership is valid at any Twin Cities Y and at any Y across the country that participates in the YMCA reciprocal program.

Because I lost so much strength during my illness, I started off slowly with an easy "Senior Sneakers/Silver and Fit" aerobics class three mornings a week. Most of the participants are "older" but I'm fairly sure I'm not the youngest in the class. Some are very fit but others seem seriously physically challenged. This is my first exercise class ever and I had a little trouble with my coordination for the first couple of sessions.

Two weeks later, my balance and strength are improved, but there's a lot of room for improvement so I'm not quite ready to "move up" to a more challenging level. Tomorrow I'll go with Bob to work on the machines: not being mechanically inclined, I need to be taught more than once how to adjust resistance, handlebars and seat height. I'm a little embarrassed that color coding makes these tasks easy for "normal" users, but I'm way below average in that department.

The best outcomes aren't measurable. The beautiful Y building, competent and helpful staff, and upbeat music lift my mood and energy level for the entire day.

A new Desktop: Dell Inspiron I3847-3538BK and Windows 10

Dell Inspiron I3487-3538BK

Dell Monitor E2414HM

Winter photos.

Last fall, I spent many hours in Chicago O'Hare lugging my everyday Lenovo laptop, which got heavier by the minute. I decided to seriously consider replacing that device with a MacBook Air when the time came -- before my next plane trip for sure. However, in the meantime, my office "workhorse" computer was getting old and slow.

I didn't really give serious consideration to anything but a Windows operating system: I still occasionally use the command line and feel most comfortable with the file structure that I know so well. My hard drive is simply organized (most personal documents, photos, music etc. under the "users" subfolder, others under my own "c:\data" folder.  All well labeled, logical and easy to remember.

When I made my last office computer replacement, I selected an HP laptop marketed as a desktop replacement, to be used as a laptop (e.g., do "office" work in the living room instead of being physically in the office), if necessary. The machine was actually fairly heavy and its use as a laptop was not very practical. I used networking (including old fashioned "sneaker net" more often than I actually moved the laptop from its permanent location on my desk. I considered the overall purchase a somewhat expensive mistake.

Once I decided on my specs (enough memory, 2 TB hard drive big enough for my photographs), the purchase was easy: $549.99 from Best Buy. with free delivery the next day. The initial set-up was as easy as I've ever encountered. Unpacked, plugged in and Internet connected in less than an hour. My one-year subscription to Office 360 ($50 for one desktop and another table installation) was quick to install and is a pleasure to use.

I was pleasantly surprised by Windows 10, after hating both Windows 7 and 10. The familiar XP Start Menu is back, with a different look that's practical and easy for novices to use. I got rid of the out-of-the-box icon clutter and gave prominent real estate to the icons my husband uses the most.

I did encounter a few minor hurdles. The plan to migrate my own data was too daunting without data migration tools so I brought the box back to Best Buy and paid $99 for Geek Squad to copy it for me.  Bonus: the migration of my iTunes music library was painless and perfect. No support call to iTunes required. I also messed around with user settings to make it easy for Bob to use the device: I long ago abandoned the idea of giving him his own login, since it is easier for me to manage only one user. I've wasted some time on small issues like desktop appearance.

I'm especially happy with speed and display. Overall, the transition has been easy and so worth the effort.

Pioneer Press - Sainted & Tainted 01.02.2016

http://www.twincities.com/opinion/ci_29330643/huge-egg-mess-back-seat-what-would-he

Sainted

I was recently hospitalized at the University of Minnesota Medical Center (UMMC) for the observation, evaluation and treatment of a condition that had been unmanageable for many months. After the implementation of a short-term strategy, I was feeling better within a day and was soon presented with a viable treatment plan for the longer term.

My nurse practitioner at Fairview Highland in St. Paul initiated the actions that led to my hospitalization, and excellent coordination between Fairview and the University ensured a seamless experience for me, the patient. Everyone -- doctors, residents, students, nurses, nursing assistants, phlebotomists, pharmacy and administrative personnel, housekeeping and food-service staff, transporters, volunteers -- was so kind, compassionate and competent. My world was changed for the better in a few days by the University of Minnesota Physicians GI Clinic, the UMMC Maroon Team, and the well-trained staff of UMMC Units 6D and 5A.

Because of the superior care I received, I was discharged in time for the holidays. The doctors, nurses, nursing assistants, administrative and non-medical staff work long hours under sometimes challenging conditions. Without exception, I was treated with extreme care, proficiency and good humor. The professionalism, expertise, and outstanding patient care at both Fairview and the University of Minnesota make me proud of the staff and volunteers committed to providing exceptional health care not only to Minnesotans, but to regional, national and international communities as well. They are among the best in the world.

Catherine Hennessey, St. Paul

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

Winter photos.

I always enjoy the brand new slate of New Year's Day, but this year was different because I finally felt more like "myself" after being sick for so long.

New Year's Day fun at Hidden Falls Regional Park

During the several months I spent mostly on the couch, I measured the expected energy expense of every step before taking it. I sometimes reflected on the time I've wasted on useless worry, petty resentments, nursing hurt feelings, speculating about uncontrollable events.

As 2015 came to a close, I thought about the health challenges of the year and how solutions became clear in December. I was so grateful for the medical professionals, family and friends who took care of me, especially in December. My sister Marilyn visited and took on the management of my health; because of her skill  and expertise (well beyond her child psychiatry specialty!), as well as her insider MD understanding of almost daily blood tests, I made it through days of coughing and general illness and eventually got appropriate treatment for underlying Crohn's Disease.

My friend Dennis checked in on me every couple of days throughout the fall and came to see me in the hospital during the busy week preceding Christmas. Bob's daughter Sonia called or texted every day and brought entertaining reading material to my hospital room, cheering me with her kindness, humor and optimistic outlook on life. Son Chris texted, called, sent me a beautiful poinsettia, and visited me in the middle of busy workdays as he rushed to get through year-end business. My husband Bob sat quietly with me when I was too tired to talk or do much of anything but sense the peace of his presence. When I got home from the hospital, he prepared meals and generally made me feel comfortable and cherished, still driving me everywhere until I'm  strong enough to finally go out of the house by myself. Many other family members and friends called, emailed, messaged and prayed for me.

I have only one resolution this year: to fully appreciate each new day and the people who fill my life with interesting ideas, joy and fun. On January 1, I woke up early and almost jumped out of bed, well before 5:00 a.m. I washed a load of dishes an hour later and had brand new linens on the beds before I took my shower. Feeling full of energy, I washed three loads of laundry in the morning, so happy with Bob's New Year's Eve repairs on my old washing machine. We spent part of the day enjoying the outdoors: it's always fun to watch crazy Minnesotans waterski at Hidden Falls and visit some of our favorite all season destinations like Fort Snelling State Park.

I'm not sure how to beat that great January 1 start, so I started looking for a quote to help frame my resolution. Google came to the rescue with these quotes about optimism. Figured I can't do better than this one:

“What day is it?"
It's today," squeaked Piglet.
My favorite day," said Pooh.” 

― A. A. Milne

Holiday Letter to Family and Friends

Winter photos.

I sent an earlier version of this Christmas letter with cards via US Mail, too late to arrive on time for Christmas. I'm ready to get back to blogging, and this seems like an appropriate item. Happy New Year, everyone!

Enjoying a Boca Ciega Bay boat ride

Merry Christmas! The weather was so balmy throughout December that I was surprised to see a little dusting of snow just before Christmas, and recent snow confirms that we may have a Minnesota winter after all. Our hearts are still full of holiday spirit as continue to enjoy the December break and look forward to a New Year.

Our year has been busy. We spent March in St. Pete Beach, Florida, and enjoyed a beautiful month of perfect weather. For the first time, I screwed up my courage and shared some of the driving with Bob. His new 2015 Traverse was a joy to drive and I was quite proud to take my turn at the wheel for a few hundred miles each way of the journey, marveling at the vast expanse of transition landscape, with winter and summer at either end.

Granddaughter Angie and her husband Mike welcomed baby Henry to their family in May, making 3-year-old Will a proud big brother, and Bob a great-great grandfather once again.


Bob holding baby Henry, with of the grandchildren and great grandchildren on his birthday

After a big family party for Bob’s birthday in June, we flew to California for grandson Tyler’s high school graduation. We spent a few days in our favorite Monterey Bay before the event, and had a lovely time on winding 17 Mile Drive before visiting the world-famous Pebble Beach Resort, where even a non-golfer like me felt steeped in the history of golf and its traditions.

Bob with grandson Tyler

We were joined in Fresno by sons John and Chris, as well as John and Trudy’s boys, Adam and Mitchell. A graduation is an emotional event and I found myself thinking back to Tyler’s mom, Mary, who was a new graduate about Tyler’s age when I first met her in 1982. Mary hosted two graduation dinners with extended family members we haven’t seen for some time. Happy days.

 

John, Adam, Bob, Chris, Mitchell at Yosemite

The next morning, John piled the Minnesotans into his rental SUV and drove us to Yosemite for an unsettled and occasionally stormy day. It was nostalgic to see Adam and Mitchell walk through the ancient Sequoia forest, much as we had nearly 20 years ago around the time Tyler was born. For once, Bob was a passenger and could look around at panoramic views. Best field trip ever.

We ended the California junket with a couple of days in San Francisco. We were especially pleased that Mary joined us overnight, and on the Sunday morning, Cousin Michele Hennessey treated us to mid-morning brunch at her apartment with spectacular view of San Francisco. It was heartwarming to see seven cousins from three generations delighted to be in one another’s company. The Hennessey sociability gene was clearly in evidence as Michele put on a gorgeous gourmet meal, perfectly presented and served.

Hennessey cousins from 3 generations: Standing bhind Bob are Chris, Mary, Michele, John, Adam, Mitchell

Bob and I spent a few days in Crosslake in mid-August. While the weather was not particularly cooperative, we loved being out in the boat (newly repaired by John Hennessey) as we slipped back to many favorite Whitefish Chain spots. One day we had lunch at Bar Harbor, where the drinks are excellent and the food is even better. Maybe that’s vice versa.

We took a Corvette run to the Black Hills over Labor Day weekend. While I hadn’t been particularly enthusiastic when we set out, of course we had a wonderful time. The Vette sped across I-90, now with a “strict 80 mph” speed limit. It was hot in the Hills, and at Devil’s Tower, Wyoming, where we watched climbers scale the big rock. My favorite stop was the Crazy Horse Memorial, where I was enveloped in the spirituality of the Lakota culture that enriches the Midwest. I was privileged to talk with several artists whose reverence for the land and its inhabitants inspired me and informed our few days in this stark and stunning part of the world. On the same day, we saw Mount Rushmore just as the sun began to fall in the late summer sky. Spectacular.

Crazy Horse Memorial, South Dakota

In October we went to the North Shore of Lake Superior, but our hotel was near Spirit Mountain on the south side of Duluth rather than in our usual Two Harbors destination. The change gave us our North Shore excursions on the first day but an easy drive home. Just after Halloween, we traveled south along the Mississippi River to Lacrosse, where temperatures were summer warm. We couldn’t have asked for a happier last fall run, and November seemed very far away as the sun burned hot over the river.

Many of our activities were curtailed in November and December, as I was ill for much of the time. After months of with persistent intestinal issues, I caught a nasty virus and developed a sinus infection and pneumonia. Fortunately (for me, not so much for her), my sister Marilyn was visiting. I wasn't up to our usual outings but Marilyn donned her MD hat to take charge of my medical care, working closely with my nurse practitioner Jennifer Bottem from Fairview Highland Clinic. Marilyn and Jenny made sure I made it through several very difficult nights, and I felt very comforted, finally hopeful that I would eventually get well.

By December 14, I felt desperately sick and was admitted to the University of Minnesota Medical Center the next day. I was soon diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease, which I had suspected for some time. Treatment with prednisone was immediate and will continue for about a month; yesterday I began longer term therapy that includes several medications that should make me feel a lot better. Amazingly, I am fantastic right now and so grateful to be under the care of an excellent University of Minnesota medical team.

Everyone at the University of Minnesota Medical Center-- doctors, residents, students, nurses, nursing assistants, housekeeping staff, phlebotomists, transporters, pharmacy and administrative personnel, food service -- was so kind, compassionate and competent. I was nursed back to health with great care and skill by UMMC professionals. They are among the best in the world.

After a simple Thanksgiving at home because of my illness, Bob and I enjoyed celebrating Mexican Christmas Eve with the Muñoz family, followed by a large Christmas Day pot luck dinner hosted by Meggan Kerkenbush and Scott Hennessey. I was thrilled to shop (all online this year) for 12 children under the age of 9 – an energetic new generation.

We wish you a very happy holiday, filled with good health, blessings and happiness in the New Year.

Love,

Bob & Catherine (cahennessey@comcast.net; http://www.catherinehennesseyblog.com)