If you build it, the plants will come

"Gardening" in a condo without a balcony is a challenge, but I am trying, making a mess, but trying. Harry has built two shelves for plants in the condo. He built the first shelf in front of the dining room window and we were soon to realize we were at cross purposes. He wanted a shelf for kitchen herbs and I of course wanted a shelf for, what else, flowers. Thus the need for two shelves. So he next built a free standing shelf for the sun room strictly for plants and flowers. Maybe an occasional herb might work on my flower shelf but....

Last week, just as I got on the elevator with plants for the shelves, some of the residents riding up with me on the elevator looked confused. I explained Harry and I were building a balcony to put the plants on. They looked more confused,then laughed,deciding it best not to ask any more questions.

I really miss gardening and I really do not miss all the work gardening entails. Love of flowers is, I swear, in the genes. My mother loved her flower gardens and all three of my sisters have a passion for growing flowers. My daughter, the New Yorker, called a few weeks ago to declare she had found peonies in bunches being sold on the street in Manhattan and had treated herself to a big bouquet. I just love flowers, Mom, she exclaimed. Really, I said. I am so surprised!

I had a very large garden at my house on Abbott. It was a lot of work to say the least, not to mention the cost of a large garden. I would begin each year vowing not to spend as much as I did the year before. That never happened. Each year I bought more flowers and more plants. It also did not help that there was a wonderful plant nursery just three blocks from my house. Over 25 years I grew to know the owners and many of the workers at the nursery and they called me by name.

I always felt that the size of the garden on Abbott Street got the best of me until my last year in the house. With Harry's help, I had my best year of gardening ever. I always thought when I retired I would have the time, if not the money, to garden. So here I am now with the time, but no garden. Not to be daunted, I suggested Harry build some shelves we could put plants on. Our dear friend Brian got Harry into woodworking and I am so grateful! We have a marvelous, well- equipped wood-working room down one floor from us where Harry does his projects. Today I was even assisting him on his new project.

I have been learning which plants do well indoors with the light I have available. I have enjoyed it very much but it is extremely messy potting the plants indoors. It would be nice to have an indoor hose. Harry's current project is building a wine rack. For sure, no disagreement on what goes on that set of shelves!!!

Mississippi dreams

Harry and I love to go down to the old St. Anthony Main area of Minneapolis on warm summer evenings. We headed down soon after we returned from Mexico and found a surprise awaited us; a new park near the infamous falls of St. Anthony. You can stroll along watching the mighty Mississippi as it cascades over the the ancient falls where the city of Minneapolis was born. The falls of Saint Anthony, as Father Hennepin the priest/explorer named them, have been mightily transformed over the years. The Ojibwa Indians who first lived along side the falls believed them to be sacred. The pioneers who came in the 19th century saw the falls as the perfect site for milling flour and building the city of St. Anthony. Their dream came true, sacred fell by the wayside, and the falls we see today the Indians of old would no longer recognize. St. Anthony was renamed Minneapolis and went on to became the flour millling capital of the world, home to General Mills and Pillsbury.

Now, with the construction of the new park, you can walk down for a very close breathtaking look at the falls and have a great view of the old Stone Arch bridge as well. The park has drawings and photographs of the falls along it's pathways depicting the man-made changes in the falls over the centuries. The Stone Arch was built in the 1880's and is one of the two oldest bridges still spanning the Mississippi. We have walked across the old bridge many times looking west to view the powerful falls. When you go to the St. Anthony Main area you can also walk the oldest street in Minneapolis, appropriately called Main Street, and have a beer at the the nearby turn of the century bar, Pracna on Main. Pracna is the oldest restaurant in Minneapolis and has been restored to it's early elegance. The food is dreadful but the people watching from their curbside tables is the best in town and the beer is great! You can also take a horse drawn carriage ride down cobble stoned Main Street if you wish.

Another interesting surprise came yesterday in the form of an email from the owner of the condo we rented in Mexico this past year. Betty wanted to know if Harry and I would be interested in teaching English to foreign second language learners for a "stint" next winter at a college prep school, St. Stanislaus, in her city of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. Betty's four sons have all attended this boarding school she informed us and it has, in her opinion, an excellent reputation. The school has a special ESL program for students who come from Latin America to study English every year in January and February. Bay St. Louis was hit hard by Katrina and the school is trying to rebuild it's student body which shrunk to 300+ post hurricane from it's former 500+ students. Bay St. Louis is close to New Orleans and is noted for it's good restaurants, casinos and pristine white-sugar beaches. (Probably not pristine for very much longer however.)

We are clear, due to our advanced age and some recently acquired wisdom, that any teaching job we took would indeed need to be a short term "stint" and it would have to pay better than what we were paid in Mexico. It would be nice to have some curriculum provided as well, thus not having to create your own as you go. It has been my fantasy to find a short term teaching job that could help finance a future car trip around southern France and northern Italy. A girl has to dream!! Harry likes the idea of getting out of Minnesota in January and February and the idea of playing black jack at the casinos. Something or nothing may come from Betty's inquiry, but however this turns out, it was fun to get the unexpected email from Mississippi and it was fun to find a beautiful new Mississippi park at St. Anthony Main. Life is nothing without a little new adventure!

Lattice crust success!

I tried making the lattice crust today on a peach pie and it came out pretty well. It was a bit like one of those elementary school art weaving projects kids like so much. I made the pie for Harry who is having a hard time taking flagyl, the drug we took in Mexico when we had amoebas. He is taking it to put his intestines back in balance after taking so many weeks of antibiotics. It is basically a terrible poison and he is forging through,but it is a very harsh drug. The worst part of taking this drug is that you cannot drink for the ten days you take it. Actually the worst part is having to take it at all. So I thought a nice peach pie would be comforting.

always the unexpected shock

My friend Liz emailed us a few days ago to tell our friend Steve died unexpectedly in Cabo last week. Steve and Dallas lived in the condo above us the first year we lived in San Jose. They were from Idaho and we used to tease them about being two of the ten Democrats living in their state. We grew to know and love Dallas and Steve during the time we lived in Mexico. They jumped in to help us with Arroyo school without hesitation, buying materials and teaching with us. Steve, who was in his early 60's, had a bad headache one day which Tylenol helped relieve and the following day a blinding headache. Dallas rushed him to the hospital and a cat-scan showed he had an aneurysm. They operated but were unable to save him.

The unexpected is what life is all about, but we never get used to it. We strive for equilibrium of some sort but the reality of constant and unpredictable change is ever present. Sometimes life events can seem as if divine intervention had a hand and sometimes we experience hell on earth. There is no way to predict most of what life hands over for us to deal with. Maybe it's better not to know what is coming next.

Last week, after two months, Harry had all the metal taken out of his jaw and was ecstatic. He also went to the eye doctor last week and learned he was going blind in one eye due to macular degeneration. The doctor said it was a good thing he came in for an exam when he did. He now takes a mega dose of vitamins and minerals everyday to hopefully ward off blindness. My daughter came home to Minneapolis for a short visit last week and spent her time here in bed with a terrible intestinal virus. Some days you just need to turn on the television for a shock if your own life feels temporarily calm. We have all experienced shock as we watch oil destroy the Gulf of Mexico and the lives of people in the gulf region.

My thoughts have been with Dallas the last few days in a very profound personal way. She told Liz she was grateful he did not suffer too much. I cannot imagine her horrendous shock and grief and I know full well I came very close to being where she is now three months ago. Every doctor who saw Harry's injuries said they do not know why he survived such a fall. Sometimes you escape the horrors of life and sometimes you do not. Sometimes there are miracles and other times not. None of it makes any sense. There is one less democrat in Idaho, but one more democrat in heaven. We will miss you Steve with all our hearts.

pie oh my!

I have long wanted to learn to bake pies. It all started with my ex-mother-in-law, Alice, who used to make the most beautiful and delicious pies. Every holiday she would bring her pies to family dinners and it was my dream to someday make beautiful pies too! My first attempt last week was a strawberry rhubarb and though it tasted great, it was the ugliest pie on the planet. I, not to to be daunted by one ugly pie, went out and bought two lovely pie plates for inspiration and tried again. The second attempt was more successful. I made another strawberry rhubarb and a blueberry as well. I have much to learn about pie-making. Two fairly good efforts do not a pie baker make. My daughter was home for a visit and we were going to make pies together but she fell ill. "Mom you never made pies, " she exclaimed on the phone when I told her of my plan a few days before she arrived. We had planned to make pies together, but the poor girl was so sick when she was home she could not help me make pies nor could she eat pie. Maybe next time.

I took my pies to a family event at my sister's house and I felt like the family's new Grandma Alice. Everyone appreciated my efforts. I cheated and used Pillsbury ready-made crust, but nobody seemed to notice. (Grandma Alice told me years ago she thought it worked out just as well as homemade. And she would know!) Next time I am going to try making my own crust, rather than using the pre-made. Cooks Magazine advocates what they call a fail proof crust recipe which includes vodka. Now that's my kind of crust!

My next pie making goal is to attempt a lattice crust. I have been watching web videos to learn the technique. I wish I had taken the time to learn pie making from Grandma Alice. I always used the excuse I was just too busy to make pies. I know she could have taught me some little tricks that are always key when you are learning something new. Pie making I think for me could be a very satisfying and creative venture. Who can resist a piece of beautiful homemade pie? Well, Harry for one, if the pie is pumpkin. He claims you have to be born in America to eat pumpkin pie. I have several pie favorites I plan to attempt. This week I am going to try a peach pie with a lattice crust. If it turns out I'll take a picture. If it looks ugly, I won't.

Now is the time.....

The question is: do I continue to accept the physical deterioration of aging or do I try to do something about it. Nearing 60, I decided no time like the present to at least try to battle the ever increasing speed of deterioration. The last decade found me doing many things, but unfortunately, regular exercise was not one of them. Consequence: fat and out of shape. Plan for this state of affairs: join the new health club three blocks from my house making it impossible to say exercise is just not convenient. Strategy: hire a trainer because then when you find excuses not to go, it costs you money.
Harry and I began walking everyday after he had recovered enough from his surgery. Then, in early May, we received a brochure in the mail from our new neighborhood health club offering us a deal we could not refuse. (Especially if you are really out of shape and feeling bad about it.) My health insurance company, Medica, willingly pays for half my membership fee. The club is not fancy but has what you need. I belonged to a very fancy health club back in my younger days. Back in those days, I was a few sizes smaller and so fit I biked the MS 150 to Duluth with only a 15 mile ride on the sag wagon. Now, nearly twenty five years later, a 150 mile 2 day bike trip would undoubtedly kill me.

We decided not only to go with the bargain priced club membership but to go with a personal trainer twice a week. This was due in part due to the state of our deterioration and in part to lack of discipline. This trainer thing has had an unexpected surprise benefit; I love being the student and not the teacher. These adorable and fit young people take us through a challenging regime of upper, middle and lower body exercises for 30 minute sessions. We use machines, mats, weights and balls. The trainer tells us what to do, sets up the machines for us and records our progress. They encourage us to do just a couple more reps when all you really want to do is give up because it hurts so much.

The days we are not with the trainer we are encouraged to do cardio workouts. I tried a cycle spinning class this week and before class started the instructor told me most people do it once and never come back. That put the fear of god in me. She was right, it was brutal. I find I lack motivation doing cardio machines on my own and the class experience helps to spurs me on. My class inspiration turned out to be a woman my age who was on the cycle next to me. She kept up with the "20 something" instructor. I could not believe how fit my classmate was. I wanted to leave after 20 minutes of the 1 hour class, but stuck it out just to show that instructor I may be out of shape but I am not a wimp!

Today our trainer was Joe. Joe and Harry found a lot to discuss about the up-coming World Cup. These young, college graduate, physical education majors are very kind and respectful of us old folks. I think Joe enjoyed learning a few new facts about World Cup history from the old, but getting fitter by the day, Englishman. As for me, I was grateful I know nothing about World Cup soccer because I was in such pain during the workout I could not have carried on a conversation if my life depended on it. I did manage to moan quietly, however.

My short term goal is to make it through 4 months of this torture. No! What I really meant to say was that my goal is to complete 4 months on this balanced exercise program. I do feel stronger physically after just two weeks and I have no good excuses not to keep going. I may just have to break a bone in my foot or something.