Tuesday, August 15, 2023

Tovah's Story, part 1

 


I began to greatly desire my second baby not long after my first turned a year. My husband did too(or even before that). So we let go of protection and began trying. Little did I know that it would not be as easy as with our first. With our first, we weren't even trying. Rather, we were just not careful enough, and she popped in on her own terms. To follow suit, she also come out on her own terms, at almost 2 weeks post-'guess-date'. She came flying out on the waves of her own waters. But this second baby, and her journey, was just a bit different. 

It took probably around 8 tries, so several months, before we conceived. I didn't realize how emotional that journey would be for me. How impatient I'd be, and how important I'd made it to myself to become pregnant. But nothing really prepares you for it, you just have to go with the flow(pun intended). Every month when my flow would show up, I felt as if my body had failed me. Obviously now I know that it hadn't, but it was hard to tell myself that at the time. My husband was much more patient than I was. 

Finally, one week around the first week or two in June, I was extra emotional, weepy actually... A few days later, upon taking a pregnancy test, I was surprised to see that I was pregnant. I then kept it a secret for a full week until Father's Day, when I completely surprised my husband by putting three little strip tests inside his Father's Day card! It was the best.

My baby girl is 9 months old and I haven't figured out how to begin her birth story. I started to try to write it this past summer and I got stuck. Then, panic attacks(or something like it) hit me. To be honest I'm not sure that I'm even done with panic attacks yet. Whether it's from the difficulty of this move, or from those involved in the details of my birth, or from another stressor, I'm not sure. 

Tovah's birth in and of itself, was beautiful. Peaceful, if fact. I've thought about it many times since,  and time and time again I'm really grateful that it went as it did. Even though plans changed in the end, I felt like I really tuned into my intuition and made the right decision to go from home to hospital to receive more help. Even though I had planned to have her at home if everything was going well, and for awhile it was. 

It's difficult even now, several months later, to describe the details of that time. Because it wasn't just about Tovah's birth, but so much more going on. My husband lost his job a week before Thanksgiving. That was when I was going into my third trimester. We started a long winter not knowing what he'd find for work, and if he could even find work locally. Long story short on that front, he didn't....we ended up deciding to do an 8-hour move later, an exhausting process of a decision. It was his only job offer. I remember one particular beautiful snowy night that we went cross-country skiing to talk over this decision (yes, I skiid...more like trudged, while quite pregnant). Anyways, this whole life upheaval took over the last few months of my pregnancy. We faced a giant move. My husband was technically going to start the job in my 'due' month, via travel. I actually could not agree to the move until I went down with my husband to check out this area. And that is an interesting story: as I himmed & hawed about it back in our little Duluth home, I was not feeling well that day. I almost called it all quits. But somehow we managed to still pack up and drive down. And when we left the house, I started feeling well again!... a God-thing. And, another somehow-from-God, I felt some type of remarkable peace when we got down here. 

So, when we decided that we'd take the job and do the move, at first we didn't even know where we'd have the baby. We met with a midwife down here just to prepare. But then as I entered my 'full-term' window, we decided with our Duluth midwife that I should stay put in our little Duluth home for awhile. I had quite a few uncomfortable issues in the last several weeks, that made me feel the need to stay around home: sciatica, pelvis/hip pain discomfort, something like acid reflux/indigestion, and insomnia from about 3 a.m. for a few hours! Oh, and high fasting blood sugar just during the night probably from my wacky sleep issues! It was all very challenging to say the least. And another memory that sticks out is the day that we had no water, right after getting a snowstorm, when I was 38/39 weeks, and I wasn't in a condition to shovel. So while my front street was getting ripped up by the city department and fireman workers to fix the underground pipes, my sweet ex-Navy neighbor snow-blowed my sidewalks for me! It was incredible. I was able to leave the house that day after all, and baby didn't come yet!



To Be Continued...

Saturday, April 25, 2020

When Skies are Grey in a Mother's World

                 
  - Written when I was just processing raw thoughts as a new mother, amisdst the joy that I had as well. I was having a reckoning with how much my life had just chaanged, so quickly. Wondering if I was happy, giving myself space for the difficult emotions. - 

It's one of those winter days, when it's just 'meh' and white-grey almost matching the off-white snow below. I love fresh snow(at least when it's not an overwhelming amount anyway), and it's supposed to snow later today. This unites my thoughts with what it's like having a new baby. Like fresh snow to a winter lover, there is joy and fresh delight. It is beyond joyful and delightful when you have your first sweet baby. We stare at our precious  new life in amazement, feeling such relief that they're here and that the difficulty of labor and birth are finally over. Relief that after 9 to 10 LONG months, there is finally a payoff for all that we went through.  We feel all this. 

And then. Harder days come.  Sometimes more quickly than for others, sometimes delayed. It's like grey skies. We are working in a unique way as a new mother, harder than ever, giving life day by day. Yet the life-giving feels entirely draining, emptying us of feeling beautiful, feeling youthful,  feeling healthy and energized. We look into the mirror and see 'battle scars': all the birth marks. Somehow we thought that having the baby would make all these seem worth it, but some days it's hard not to stand in the mirror without shaming ourselves. Days run into nights, all jumbled. We smell, like never before,  and seem to have every type of fluid draining from and through our body: milk, blood, sweat, tears, other stinky stuff, and who-knows-what. 

For me, harder days came as somewhat of a surprise. As soon as I took time off work for maternity leave, the monotinous days felt like an eternity while I waited for baby girl to come. She came later that week at about two weeks overdue, but that was the longest week of my life. Fast forward to newborn care, and I felt like I was sitting around doing very little all day. My butt hurt, like really hurt, but I couldn't walk for very long either. That was an adjustment. Honestly I absolutely loved being a new mother and I adored my new baby so so much. But my whole world has just spun around and here I was trying to find my footing. I hadn't really realized that birthing a baby means that you birth yourself in the process. So just like a newborn, I was learning to see, learning this new outside world that seemed entirely different. It's as if when I birthed my daughter, she birthed to the outside but I birthed inward: a new vulnerable space. 

I think it can be hard no matter what kind of birth you have. I had a wonderful birth, nevertheless as a brand new mother, there is always an adjustment. I believe that later, looking back on these days, I'll remember to be kind to myself. At least I`m hoping, I'll look back with grace. There is so much to get used to as a new mother. We have to rise each day with new strength like never before. And yet, we still feel like we're not doing enough. We compare ourselves to oher 'cool moms' on social media. We compare our babies size and developement to other babies and fear that we might be messing up our child. We come to realize that the physical taking care of a baby is actually the easy part of motherhood. The rest is the hard part: the decisions, the other work, all the balancing that never balances, all the others that we need to give attention to besides our baby, not to mention our own health and sanity on top of everything.

 Truly, I blame myself for not constantly being there for my baby, as a working mother. I fear, though my husband and I have chosen to do this, at least for this season, that I may never forgive myself. I hope that's not the case, but I have to admit that there is a grieving period when a mother goes back to work. No one truly understand this except those who've done it. The physical separation of mother and baby, after being bonded for a year, is just wrong. I feel all this, though I'm still doing it. And really, my baby girl is truly happy. She doesn't seem to mind at all. She smiles when I drop her off at daycare and she smiles when I pick her up. This gives me strength to know that she's really just fine. Still, It's hard becouse I wonder what I'm missing out on, day after day. Grace, give grace. Oftentimes the most difficult person to show grace to is ourselves. 

Wednesday, January 8, 2020

Birth Story: Rannva Willow (pronounced 'Ran - vuh')



"Born at 7:31 a.m. 10/05/19, weighing 6 lbs, 14.9 ounces, 19 inches long! Pure beauty and perfection",(part of my FB post).


Her name Rannva, is an old Norse name from the Faroe Islands, that has a few meanings: 'house of strength', 'house of battle', and 'war council (signifying wisdom). Though the name has stayed with us her whole pregnancy, the last days gave the most meaning. I had 12 days of prodromal labor, as labor would start and then die off day after day. It turned me into a vessel symbolizing a house of strength and and house of battle!! It wore me down physically, emotionally and mentally, and yet I'd have to summon it back up as I awaited her birth. In this part of the journey, I'll humbly say, my mind went to some dark places... after so many days I realized that my mind had weakened and that I was giving way to depression, thoughts of self-harm and hopelessness, and disbelief in my body. But let me say, this whole wrestling with mind, body and spirit when you're about to give birth is something else! So when this hit... I was just not doing okay. I talked to both my husband as well as our doula about it, and that did help. But I still needed to feel okay...I needed to release my fears that had built up.

We were not planning on induction but eventually came face to face with this decision, and the weight of it felt like more than I could bear...I cried out to God about it, and finally I found peace in going for it, because I sensed that my body needed some help with something. (Shout out to our pastor's wife Liz for giving me courage and understanding in this!... she'd had the same type of labor more than once!) And....the induction was hardly an induction! Only two tiny cydotec tablets (and realistically the nurse told me later that I probably hadn't even needed the second tablet), and WOW did that ever kickstart me into active labor!!! Fast and powerful, active labor only ended up being 4 to 4 and 1/2 hours, including the pushing! 

When I reached pushing phase, I actually wasn't sure that I was there already. Though I must've gone from a 4 to a 10 (cm) in hardly more than an hour, and I did feel it all, somehow in the back of my mind I kept thinking, "this could still take awhile, like hours longer." I was actually still saying that I wanted to try tub labor! And one of the nurses went off to get me the 'kya stool' for me to use in the tub! But then it was suggested that I make space with my bladder, since I was drinking SOOO much water and hadn't peed in hours. And something was changing with my contractions. Off to the  toilet I barely waddled, feeling like I had to go more than pee(hint hint). Another friend had told me that it'd feel like this, so in the back of my mind I was like " maybe?maybe I'm actually here already?" 

 She came flying out in the hospital bathroom (tiny bathroom I might add)๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚, and from the two doctors who ran into the room, the one RA barely caught her in time! ๐Ÿคฃ Then I stood up and grabbed my newborn and walked to the bed, in total utter amazement of what  just transpired. I wouldn't change it for anything...I love wild adventures I couldn't have thought this up on my own...it was AWESOME. Curt had been right there helping me in the bathroom the whole time, and was totally surprised that she simply slipped out, just like that. He'd been supporting me and looked down saying, "Oh W-O-O-O-W!! ", as we stared in awe at her perfect, beautiful, wet body. ๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ˜น๐Ÿ˜ฒ๐Ÿ˜‚ 

 Back to my wild labor, what INCREDIBLY helped me was having my husband behind me and our doula Alisha in front of me for all the physical support. They kept talking and working me through the contractions in powerful ways...it would have been so much harder otherwise.๐Ÿ™Œ๐Ÿ™Œ Alisha reminded me to 'blowww' and to release my tension from my fingers and toes. I would let them go limp in between contractions and focus my breathing in relaxation. This really helped me to relax through the next contractions and distract the intensity. My husband kept saying, "long, deeeep breaths...release the tension from your shoulders... you're doing so well!" Alisha would ask, "how did that one feel? Did you notice that one was different? Now try some lunges...yes, open that pelvis... wonderful!" And she had the robozo scarf around her shoulders so I'd face her and PULL on the scarf like ropes in my hands, and she'd say "PULL HARDER!..there you go, HARDER". And when I pulled harder I DID really feel myself opening up!! 

Then my cervix apparently went from probably a 4 to a 10 in like an hour!!(totally hadn't thought that'd happen to me!) I did't have much for cervix checks except for the night before, and I was glad not knowing my number. I didn't want my dialation number to distract me. But I know that I lost my mucus plug about an hour and fifteen minutes before birth! For contraction management, I did the 'horse lips' blowing trick, which I learned from my prenatal yoga teacher Stacy. This blowing technique, though it sounds ridiculous, does A LOT for opening a women up and keeping you from clenching your jaw. So I believe that really helped, and I kept telling myself while my eyes pretty much remained closed, "lean INTO the pain, not away from it". This 'leaning into the pain' thing was one of the biggest lessons that I learned for laboring. [Side note, it's amazing how laboring runs so parallel with 'co-laboring with Christ', is it not? We can't run away from it, otherwise it's not labor. Thinking of it as a 'joy to labor' totally changes it. ]
 We played incredibly beautiful David Nevue piano music in the room for my entire labor, birth/afterbirth...that did something too. All the prep work from my yoga group and my support team, mattered greatly in how things played out. Being held up in prayer by friends and family, also really made our baby's journey into the world a safe one touchd by God.  And I am so, so grateful!! And WOW, the nurses at St. Luke's were absolutely wonderful too.๐Ÿ’ž Could not recommend them more.๐Ÿ‘ 

So, WE are PARENTS!! I'm a mama!! We are here safe and sound!























The Story of Rannva Willow



(Oct. 16th): Today is my 28th birthday, and this baby girl is the best gift  from Above that I could have ever imagined. In fact, I couldn't have imagined it.

Her story begins back in billows of fluffy snow just after Christmas, soft winter skies, heavy laden branches in the woods, snowshoeing in white lattice tunnels, dinner in the Scenic Cafe, and the cold night winds off the lake. Sometime amongst these days is when she entered, but we didn't know it yet. She was like that surprise late Christmas gift that comes in the mail a couple weeks later from  an old friend.

I was on the ski lift one day in early January when it hit me: an intense vision of pickles. Dill  pickles, and I needed some SOON. Maybe it was partly because a day or two before, I'd eaten more than a fair share at my friend Amy's, and they seemed SOO yummy(I wasn't normally big dill pickle fan). I made a plan to grab some at the store on the way home from skiing. Although in the back of my head I knew that this wasn't a typical craving of mine, I didn't think into it too much, or thought it could just be PMS cravings. Curt came home to find me on the couch with my jar of pickles, as if they were ice cream. The next day, I texted him that I'd need MORE pickles, since the little jar I'd bought was gone. He was starting to laugh. Another day or two passed and since I kept craving pickles, we had a chat one night about the possibilities. He suspected the same thing that I did...and actually he'd already guessed it before this conversation. So the next morning, I woke up early and laid in our bed for awhile, unable to sleep. Finally I decided to jump out and take  a pregnancy test. My emotions were a mixture of calm and excited while I awaited the results...then: TWO LINES.!!! I called Curt in and showed him, to which he excitedly asked, "You're pregnant?"...then kissed me, was too tired still, so he went back to bed. (Yeah). I sat for awhile to let  it soak in. It's funny to me now how this part of the story starts in the bathroom, and how it circled back to the bathroom later on.That weekend we went cross-country skiing out of town, and while Curt wasn't ready to talk about it a whole lot just yet, the long car rides were just what I needed to process and dream about this weighty, wonderful news.

Some weeks later we had our first ultrasound appointment. This helped solidify the pregnancy, to see our baby's dear little 'bean form' and her tiny heart pumping away. It was amazing, and I was 7 or 8 weeks along at the time! We took home our precious ultrasound photos as if we were taking home a secret star from the sky. We still hadn't told our families. And with these photos in hand, off to Kauai, Hawaii we went. It was our belated honeymoon. Oh, I should also mention that we were planning to meet up with Curt's parents  en route to HI and share the news in a fun way, but our flights/layovers got changed right before leaving, so that plan didn't happen.

Though I was two months along when in Kauai, to me these sweet memories are probably the most significant me to for the beginning of pregnancy. When the plane dipped down onto the volcanic island and we stepped off the plane, it felt as if we'd come through a curtain to a completely different world. Heaven on Earth. Obviously this had to do with leaving bitter cold and blizzard-prone Minnesota. Upon awing over the first jumbo leaves and flowers, we hopped into a rented Jeep Wrangler. Down a tree-canopy covered road we drove, feeling a little like Jurrasic Park, into a week full of the best adventures. There were wonderful Air BNBs we stayed in, waking up to sunshine and birds singing, our first walks to the oceanside, experiencing fresh aรงaรญ bowls at open cafรจs where chickens roam free(they roam free over the entire island), to stepping into the sunkissed water while waves rushed against my legs again and again. That week we drove the Jeep around the curvy roads as scenary changed from one end of the island to the other... lushious, wet tropics with cliffs and waterfalls to flatlands and arid rolling hills that looked more barren. We kayaked a river with a group and mud-hiked back into the tropical forest to a ginormously-tall waterfall. The mud was super slippery and sometimes as deep as the knees. We rode bikes down a mountain along a canyon another day, explored little limestone caves with crawling crabs one morning, ate at a top-notch bakery in the North island a few mornings, and took the most incredible hike of our lives with one of my oldest friends and her family. This hike we did mostly barefoot, high up in the Nepali coast, partially in fog until it would sporatically clear and we could see the huge Pacific Ocean beyond. We had so much fun even just driving the jeep around with the top down, through cute towns, beaches, and a coffee plantation. Another highlight for sure was a boat excursion in hopes of seeing humpback whales since they were in season. It was difficult to book an excursion that would allow pregnant women, as  most did not. But we did find one thankfully and the captain was a good sport for humor, especially about my pregnancy. Soon the waves got to me, induced an appetizer bite that had goat cheese in it. I ended up throwing up probably about 4ish times on that boat but I don’t regret it! After all the barf was out of me, I walked up to the front of the top deck in time to see a whale jump up and splash its huge body backwards into the ocean. This is one of the things that we came for! The ride back was a big sunset, and I continued to stand at the front of the boat as salty water spritzed my face. All these experiences and more, were shared with our tiny little girl way down in my womb.

Curt and I came home to reality, to blizzards, frigid temps, nights of soup, shows, and downhill skiing. I’d been doing ski patrol, and I was determined to still finish out the season and my toboggan training. While ski patrol volunteering was quite chill, I would describe the toboggan training nights as more intense. We were tested on skills and methods for correctly rescuing and transporting skiers on the hill, so it was quite physical in nature. Pregnancy makes ligaments and coordination quite loose, so it was especially a challenge to pass, but I did! Winter eventually drastically changed to summer like it always does up North, but the month of April(I think?) was the challenging in-between month.I thought that I was getting pregnancy depression, but I eventually realized that the way I was feeling, was because of not getting outside for exercise enough. So this soon improved, and I learned how essential it was for me to get out and walk or hike often.

Summer brought on a lot of humidity, and that was a challenge! I was quite swollen: my legs, feet, hands, basically all over. And the humidity made it worse, especially at night or in the car on long trips. During this humid period we did go out to Lake Tahoe where the air was SO much cooler and lighter, too. It was a wonderful trip taken with Curt's parents to celebrate their 40th anniversary. After this refreshing trip, I  don't think the humidity back home was quite as challenging. BUT, my foot pain and sciatica (but mostly foot pain), was the worst!! I was on my feet all day for my job, and with everything softened up and swollen, I sometimes felt that I could barely walk again after finally sitting down. Some days I would come home in tears and just sit. Towards the end of pregnancy I sat down more and more at work because I literally couldn't take it anymore. Finding a little better footwear did help, and when the humidity lessoned, that helped too. In addition to walking, hiking, and swimming a few times, I also went to a prenatal yoga/support group. It was wonderful!! I made friendships, learned a lot, practiced movements and techniques that I truly believe helped baby and me to birth so wonderfully later. 

Transitioning from summer to Fall, before her birth, was both a hard, weighty time, and kinda flew by too. I kinda wonder if I had a Mono flair up somewhere in there because I felt quite sickly some days. I thought I should be admitted into the hospital some times because I really felt so miserable. And then Curt came down with Mono himself, though thankfully his bad symptoms didn't last long! I stayed busy with work, which at the end really helped me, so that I didn't just pace myself back and forth. I struggled back and forth with being unsure that my medical caregivers understood me enough, or that I was birthing at the right place, etc. But I listened to informed podcasts, I read stuff here and there, and I asked our doula informative questions. At 35 weeks I remember having a day of just breaking down about everything, and had to pick myself up for the long weeks ahead. I do believe, that those weeks were the longest of my life! Especially once I was passed my 'due date'.  Though I knew ahead of time that due dates should be held with a window of a couple weeks on either side, I had never figured out how to truly mentally prepare myself for the reality of this. 


I woke up on my due date, quite early, with cramping that came every few minutes. Little did I know that this was the start of prodromal labor. Little did I know that it would last for almost 2 more weeks.


























Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Planning a Masterpiece Wedding in 3 Months



      Have you ever been filled with a vision, a purpose, a joy, so strong that when others look at you as if you're crazy, you still believe "it can be done." This was planning my wedding in 3 months. Did I have a clue about the planning? The exact timeline? The realities of all the details? Nope. But I had a deep purpose and joy in my mission because I would be with my true love. When your mind is made up, don't be wishy-washy...stick to it! Here are some of my survival pointers.

1. Get premarital counseling.  What?...why? While this component to a 3-month engagement might be easily overlooked, it is the most crucial. It will (hopefully) work out the most major kinks in your relationship and thus make you two a more unified, stronger team and truly know whether you should proceed with your wedding or make another decision. It will separate your preparation from easily getting tangled up in all the 'doing'  and fill you with a deeeper spiritual and intellectual peace of why you're doing this. You cannot underestimate the power of premarital counseling, and I truly thank my now-husband for setting this up for us ASAP. Smart man he is.

1.5 GET YOUR DATE SET. This is a frustrating one while you two are deciding, but I was reminded by my loved ones that,"The date you two set, is the right date." This gave me peace.

2. Find venues and suppliers. Get the most important ones first, then the others will come!
Give yourself limited choices, so you are not overwhelmed. As Curt began searching and booking the major components of our wedding, I was filled with gratitude for my incredibly talented community. Our cake guy was going to make some cakes look like birch wood and others like dark hardwood. My florist was extremely well-hearsed and laid back, showing me examples of different colors and arrangements until I said, "that's it...love that!" She even told me how to cut costs when it came to table flowers...she was awesome. And getting my dress?...that was a whole adventure in and of itself but the end result was SO worth it! I got my dream dress(an Amelia Sposa), on Ebay(from Russia) for a MUCH better deal than I'd have paid otherwise, AND it fit like a glove! Moral of the story?--- be adventurous in your searching, give a laugh, and believe that what's meant to be, WILL BE.
     Curt I tried to line up getting a venue, one of the most difficult aspects. We had a small pool of original ideas. Then we talked through why we would or would not be happy with the end result. A friend mentioned a place she'd been to for a wedding before, and I looked it up. I had an inkling to pray about it as I called the venue and left a message. They got back to me, and when they asked what date I was trying for, at first they said "Sorry, we can't make it work." However, I didn't hang up...I had a feeling, albeit a weak one...and asked some crucial questions about what could be done, and what we were exactly looking for. This turned into "well, we could maybe make that work for you." So we booked a tour, fell in love, and I could tell that when we toured, the venue was ready to sign us on. But we still gave ourselves at least a week to think and talk it over, to be sure. Then we were sure. I would like to note, that when you are trying to book within 3 months and many places have limited availability, it helps to choose a less popular day/time for your event. That's what we did, going for a Monday/Holiday wedding.

3. Divide and Conquer. It's important for the sake of your lifetime relationship, that you don't feel like one or the other is doing all the work. Each of you needs to feel the responsibility. Make to-do lists and a timeline that works for you two, without feeling the pressure of what everyone else says you're supposed to do. And make sure you express your gratitude to each other many times throughout the process!..."Hun, thank you sooo much for all you're doing; I see your effort and care!" <3 Giving thanks gave us encouragement for the continued hard work on top of our full-time jobs. Curt was excellent at looking at the big picture, doing the budget, keeping track of guest and invite send-outs, RSVP's, etc, all organized. So he did that. I love hands-on work, and the beautiful decorative atmosphere of things, so that was my side of effort. I picked out our invites ahead of time, which set the tone for our theme. I'm also good at wording things so I helped with that too. Curt helped with printing invites and getting stamps, I helped with bundling them with a bow and sending them off. When RSVP s came in, Curt logged them into our wedding planner spreadsheet. I shopped for all sorts of deals on table cloths, lace cloths, dinner chargers, glassware, vine wreaths & floral, and al sorts of little details that fit with my vision(which grew as I found each element!). Curt booked things that needed to be booked, such as DJ, getting event insurance, security deposit on venue, paying caterer, etc.

4. Take a break. What?...I only have two months left! No one wants to be around a stressed out bridezilla, and you don't even want to be around yourself. I was advised by our premarital councilor, " Don't put so much on yourself before the wedding that you end up over-tired and crabby with Curt when you get to your honeymoon." He also reminded me that the bride sets the tone for the wedding. I kept this goal ahead of me with authority, even though at times I broke down in tears and felt it impossible. Believe! Oh little of faith. And there were times for both Curt and I, when we had free time off work that we felt lazy not doing 'wedding stuff' but often times this is what we needed! Like going for a run. Or reading scripture without being in a hurry. One of my favorite memories in this process, is when Curt and I took a paddle boat out on the water on a sunny Sunday afternoon. We dreamed and laughed, talking about other elements to our upcoming life that we were excited about. That afternoon, we rode horses, swam, and then paddle-boated, and later ate some incredible food from an artsy  place we'd never heard of. Since we both like exerting ourselves outdoors, this was incredibly refreshing. Even in the week proceeding our wedding, we were advised to do a date night where we paused talking about more wedding details. This was very hard to do, and I was crabby that night we decided to make dinner together. It took quiet food prep, and every now and then Curt gave me a mini kiss on my forehead or cheek. Once we had a little food in our belly, I had warmed up. It was then a lovely evening together, reconnecting on why we're together. This again, encouraged us for the next crazy, tiring days ahead.

5. Stay Classy. It's easy to say, "No, I don't even even care about that." Which, believe me, many times, I did say this! Now I'm embarrassed that I did. Some of those things that I thought
I could do without, I came to learn that they were some of the most meaningful aspects that I'll forever treasure. You don't want half-assed elements in your masterpiece, do you? It was easy to think to myself many times,"I'm too tired tonight to finish this, or "I don't care what details go on my programs if they're just thrown away," or "who remembers centerpieces anyway?" But I had to stop and remember that the heart of my truest Heart, is good artistic design, and this was one of the masterpieces of my life. (P.S. I'm not a gifted event planner though!) Another thought that kept me motivated on the many long days was,"If my guests are lovingly coming such a long way to celebrate with us,  don't I want them to feel well-appreciated, and have a delightful, memorable experience of joy and love that they'll never forget?" Truly, reminding myself of this gave me energy. Though some would say that your wedding day is 'all about you' and there's truth to that, it gave me energy to be 'others-focused' rather than 'self-focused.' My friend Amy who helped greatly with my decor and layout, reminded me to do the expected traditions that I'd originally thought didn't matter so much. And in the end, I'm so glad that we had those traditional, organized elements! These include but are not limited to: ceremony layout, unity act, ushers and seating, entrance atmosphere, number and arrangement of bridal and groom party, cocktail hour activities for guests, photography layout, labeling things throughout so guests are well-informed, creating good flow for guests, timeline the day-of, a personal attendant for yourself, a day-of-coordinator and/or day-of host for making sure everyone has what they need and are doing well. You want smooth flow, happy, well-cared for people, excellent food, and lots of classy fun!

6. Get help. Haha, you thought you could do this mostly alone in the beginning, if you're like me. But now you realize that you are in over your head with details and decisions. That's what other gifted people are for! If you are good friend to another and ready to help in their time of need, why would they not do for you? In a way, we've lost this time and era, and often think we need to fend for ourselves. If you're like me, you hate asking for help and for favors. I'ts just pride, which is actually an ancient struggle. I was reminded by more than one person to ask for more help, and OH MY GOODNESS, the help that come through, I was SOOO thankful for!! When you do ask for favors and help, be gracious and classy about it, not over particular and yet be clear. Again, I'm no pro at this but believe me, I can't underestimate the power of good help anymore. Now I want to do this for others too.

   If you're destined and brave souls, you can do this. Make it your own, and let it suprise you back in return. You're making history! Our wedding day turned out to suprise us with more beauty, peace, love and joy than we could have imagined. And for those who do venture the three-month engagement, you know, truly, that the real prep began way before these three months. May your masterpiece story live long!























     Many thanks to Brule River Barn, Sam's Florist, AT Entertainment, to The Exchange(cakes), The Cupcake Lady(Proctor), Good Thyme Catering(Washburn), all the Duluth area supply stores, FB Marketplace, Bella Rose Bridal, Ebay, Amy & Dave Peterson, Bellaire Photography(my sister), Amazon, Dave Addink, Sarah Feyder, Nate Marsh, The PForr's, The Boren's, our entire city group at RHCC, and all my wild-hearted friends around the world who gave me bravory and who dreamed with me for this day(namely, Ireland).
   




Thursday, August 9, 2018

My Marriage Song to Curtis

                             
                                                           "We bid the Birds to Come"

We must bid the birds to come
and sing a song for our journey
Into the depths and breadth and heights we go
The birds have sung before but we must bid them to come.

The dawn brings a new song never sung.
The water laps along boats adrift
and we feel every pebble ___ we see the water blue
We turn to the other and say, "I choose you."

A lifetime of joys and changes and memories made
We turn to be one anew and let our identity fade
again and again and again...

A song for our journey they sing...
What is faith, hope, and love?
And the Greatest of these came down from above?

So we come down, and bend like the willows
We bend, and lay expectations on our pillow.
You and I, human frailty and character of oak
To a place where our stubborn pride will choke.

We must bid the birds to come
and sing a song for our journey.

                                                   

                                    ~ All my love and blessing over us, your darling Amelia
                                       Written July 2018, on the shore of Lake Superior

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

The Love of a Neighbor



This is just one neighbor...there were others with incredible lives too.


Sometimes we have to tell the story of another because they would never tell it to the whole world themselves. They are humble and tucked away on a piece of old  Michigan farmland. Their old barn is one of the largest I've ever seen. I like to imagine two pioneer farmers casually chatting by the barbed fences of those hills, a hundred years ago when the trees were all cleared. Two old farmers chatting as neighbors, way before us. Before two new sets of neighbors, with their hardships, love, birth, and death. Since I don't know that story, I can only tell the one I was blessed to hear and know.

I almost didn't stop by that day, as I hadn't visited in a few years at least, since moving away. I felt ashamed of myself for not checking in after the news I heard. But as I was driving by their house I thought, "What the heck...it doesn't hurt to stop by, and I do want to see how he's doing."  As I walked up to the sliding glass door, the kitchen lights had that warm glow just like old times. The two little dogs, Yogi Bear and Ranger, barked, and my old neighbor Gene recognized me as I walked up. We gave each other a welcoming hug and asked each other how we're doing. "I'm alright," he said..."I have good days and bad days." I took a seat at the kitchen table and noticed his big beautiful Harley parked by the sliding glass door. He had another friend over, as they were going to shoot guns together but it'd gotten too late already. There was a gun case and ammunition on the table, not an uncommon sight for folks in this area. The two little dogs barked for awhile as my old neighbor tried to calm them down. He sat down to chat with me.

"Marilyn was my foster sister," he told me. "She was in foster care with my family because her father was beating her. We were 17 and 20 when we got married ... I was Catholic and she was Church of God. After counseling us for 6 weeks, the priest wouldn't marry us because he said it wouldn't work. So we went to her pastor and after he prayed about it for awhile, he said he'd do it and that we'd make it but it'd be hard. And we made it, through good times and bad times. We were each other's best friend, and it'd have been our 40th anniversary.


Two years ago she developed a throat condition. It was like a hoarse throat, she couldn't talk, but then it didn't get better. When we went to the doctor they ran tests, and sent us on to eyes-ears-throat specialists. That's when they told us that she had ALS, which usually develops in the lower limbs and not the throat. This wasn't what we wanted to hear...no one wants to hear that. It started with the throat, and then one part of her mobility after another. So for two whole years, I didn't go anywhere except taking her out to the hospital in Marquette. I sold anything I still had payments on, and just stayed home with her."

My mind kept returning to how vibrant and full of faith she'd always been, and it as hard for me to think of her this way, helpless. I sat at the table and kept listening to Gene, how he chose to do home hospice himself for his wife and keep the mucus in her throat from choking her to death. But as I listened, my mind kept returning to the memories I had of her: she'd invite us in for green apples and tea, and tell us about the power of God. Sometimes she fed my siblings and I other treats such as brownies or hot dogs. Sometimes she helped give a ride to town, or meet up on walks down the road with us. We could scarcely look through the trees out our window and see her walking Emily, her black lab, down the big hill. On one particular walk several of us took together, we ran into another neighbor further down the road. He was out on a four-wheeler looking for his lost dog, one of two or three dogs. He was clearly frustrated that his dog had run off into the thick nest of wood that sheltered the river, too hard to go through with a four-wheeler. Marilyn said,"Let's pray that God brings your dog out." to which he mumbled, "I'm not a christian, and I don't believe in that." But Marilyn chimed back in her uncensored way, "I am, and I'm proud of it!" So she prayed anyway and no joke, the dog ran out of the thick woods just like that. 

Other neighbors thought she was a strange one in many ways, but that didn't matter to me. We all have our ways of being strange and you should have heard the stories of some of the other neighbors! In some ways she was stand-offish and in other ways she had a wide open heart and made you feel well-loved. She typically dressed like a biker chic, with colorful bandanas, jeans and tees. I remember when she had her motorcycle accident from hitting a deer, and broke her collarbone. She didn't bike quite the same after that. Sometimes she put on a little weight which looked good on her tall height, but mostly I remember her being thin. She was either typically on a healthy eating diet or fasting with prayer, even to the point of frailty. This gave her strength later, I suppose. Gene said that as he'd take care of her during her illness, he'd ask if she wasn't tired of all the suffering yet. And since she couldn't speak, she'd shake her head, smile and point to a picture about Jesus the Healer on the wall. He said she never stopped believing that God could heal her, anytime.

 "You remember Marilyn's dad, hey?___ when he lived here with us?" Gene went on. I was now making the connection: Gene met Marilyn all because she was in foster care with his parents, and she was in foster care because her father beat her. And when her dad got older and frail, she took him in. I remember now, how she spoke of her dad with such love and care, and after making this connection, it pricked my heart. "You know, Marilyn forgave her dad...," Gene continued as he stroked Yogi Bear's fur and I tried to make friends with little Ranger. Wow, in my memory of her dad, he was kind and gentle to us as the neighbor kids. I wonder what changed in him and how. I wonder what the journey was like for Marilyn, and, for Gene her husband. That is love without walls. My heart beat, back in the place where it used to beat, but in new rhythm.

Gene started to tell me about the love of yet another neighbor, while Marilyn was sick. We all knew the trauma this man had faced some years before, with the loss of his daughter, and how he was now raising his grand-daughter. Well, if I go back, I remember Marilyn telling me she had a vision for cows on her land again. She kept saying the cows were coming, and she and Gene longed for grass-fed beef. Sure enough, one day there were Scottish highlanders up there on the hill, grazing away. Now, when she was sick, Gene went on to tell me how this other neighbor and his grand-daughter came over to care for the cows and mow his lawn, etc, every day. Whatever they could do to help, they just kept coming so he wouldn't have to do anything but stay by his wife's side. I could tell that it meant so much to him, and he was overwhelmed by their goodness. He said they looked forward to coming and caring for the cows everyday, and even when he could now do it himself, they still wanted to come over. I was overwhelmed by their care too...when have I done such a thing for a neighbor, for two full years?

Once Marilyn passed, Gene went to visit his grown son in another state, and then out to his sister's in New York City. He said it was hard to get back on his feet, literally, after only walking around the kitchen and to and from the bathroom for two years. His sister's life in New York city is very different from his own in the Upper Peninsula. A "house" can be just a large unit in a gigantic building, rent can be $15,000 a month, and an Amazon order of toothpaste and shaving cream can come up to a skyscraper unit within only 30 minutes of ordering. People do anything for work there, he said, such as the naked cowboy singer in the park...all sorts of people, all sorts of jobs, and a simple breakfast can easily cost $60. I'm sure this isn't everyone's life there but that's what he experienced. I'd say that New York City did the job of helping him 'get away' from everything he'd just went through though.

I knew he had many more days to get through, in his grief. The spring burial meant that he was still going to have to face everything again, so he was just taking it 'one day at a time'. I was glad that he had his Harley out in the kitchen...and he mentioned getting back into a biker group. "I still haven't been able to go through all her clothes," he said. I couldn't imagine. "Today I just loaded up more of her hospice care equipment for the hospital." I sat there thinking, "This is one of the strongest and most beautiful men I've ever known." I longed for him, as my old neighbor, to find a life again, to be happy again. Then he says the doctors found a little prostrate cancer in him, and he needed an MRI. He might be fine but he had no way of knowing yet, and he was peaceful. "You never know, it might not be long before I'm up There with her, so I live every day as if it were my last." Breathe in and breathe out...prayer for this man.

After hugging goodbye and wishing each other well, I drove off into the night and knew that this visit was nothing other than divine. It left my heart wide open to reflect, to learn, and to love selflessly. I will never forget Marilyn, her fearlessness, and the way that she impacted my faith as a neighbor.

 

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Chasing Dreams of the Night


 I'm not a big plan-maker...always been a dreamer. And quite literally I have some very vivid dreams at night, not all the time but enough to move me when I do. Lately at winter's end I may have been dealing with seasonal depression or at least anxiety, which was causing me to have very vivid dreams at night. It's was my childhood land...all 80 acres. I kept returning and I didn't know why.

 In the past I've had this too, however it was in Ireland and it was autumn not winter, so I really don't know. While studying abroad and living at Victoria Lodge, I had many dreams but I especially remember a series of three dreams. In the first, it was a peaceful day in the woods back home, my siblings, dog and I playing and having fun around our old porch. Without warning, wolves came charging down from the hill behind the rustic house, ready to attack us all. I, being in full protector-flight mode, grabbed all my siblings and my dog and bolted into the house as fast as possible and bolted the door with that one-of-kind floor slider we had to lock it. My heart beat loudly as I woke up. I'm not sure if it was days or weeks before the second dream came: My siblings and I were having a typical day inside the house, and it must have been a colder season. All of a sudden I realized that the house was filling with smoke and going into flames, quickly. Immediately I thought of all my siblings and dashed everywhere upstairs and downstairs to grab them and thrust them outside the burning building. Once again my heart was beating crazily and woke me up. It all felt so weird but I was beginning to realize that it must be symbolism, as I knew that my remaining family at home were going through, to say the least, some horrible situations. My parents had just divorced a few months earlier and though I didn't keep up with all the details at this time, the dreams told me. My siblings and I were losing our childhood home and disconnecting with the life we had always known, of having our own power to provide, water to keep running, and a fire to keep warm. Not to say this was all a bad thing, but it was traumatic to us. My third dream then, over in Ireland and far far away from this childhood place, was finally peaceful: There was our place, trees cleared out and garden fence posts we'd put up, weeds, sunshine, and the wild beauty of originality that was only our crazy place. And there were cows, cows grazing peacefully on the side of our huge garden. We'd never had cows so this was something amazing to me because no longer were there wolves coming down from the hill behind the house nor was the house on fire. All was well.

So here I am on the Wisconsin/Minnesota border, living a happy little life that's quite different from the one I grew up in, and dreams return to me. It doesn't matter where I lay my head to rest, they always find me to remind me of who I am. I'm a tough Yooper, born straight from the push of a uterus into one of the neighbor's living room (Yoopers can be open-hearted that way), and spent my infancy in a trailer with no running water, no fancy baby supplies, no plumbing yet, and only wood heat to survive the winter. Dad was building the rustic house at that time. I have no idea how I survived without getting illness and there were no doctor visits, only a midwife in the beginning, so I must have been a tough Yooper. But nothing about it was a sight for the eyes, that's for sure! And since I spent 20 years there, my night dreams have often reminded me of all the corners of the cabin-like house and all the deeps of the 80 acres. In one recent dream, silly as it was, my family and the current owners were all living there together, acting like nothing was weird and taking care of everything together. That was weird but hey, I can't judge my dreams! Then in another, it was a sunny kind of day where the balmy breeze brushed the poplars in that signature way, but it was our uphill next-door neighbor's trees, and I was coming into our old land from that direction. Before you'd reach our lot from that direction, there was the edge of their field, a wild apple orchard with drumming partridges hidden in the branches, the veins of taller hardwoods and then into the smaller poplars, maple, cedar, pine and birch. There was no path down, we just had our signature marks throughout, and whenever we'd walk through in that direction my dog Maxine  would always scout out a 360-degree range around us to smell all the smells and bark at squirrels and porcupines that she thought she was protecting us from. She LOVED running through there and always had the happiest eyes when when came back to me. "Good, good girl," I'd tell her.

So there I was heading back to the root land where dreams are born, and I really didn't have a plan. I really didn't know if I had the guts to stop by, to chase down my dreams that kept facing me down. As if they were saying,"Amelia, it's okay now...you can go and make peace. You can go and see." I've spent six years coming to terms with my new life in the modern world where we pay someone else to provide our running water, our heat, our electricity. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed in gratitude for all the wonder that is technology and power, and yet other times I'm depressed because I feel useless that everyday is not critical survival like it used to be, living off-grid. So I had no idea how I'd deal with my emotions if I just drove back and casually walked around the place like I knew it. Because I do know it. I didn't know if it would wreck me in a bad way. But I knew when I started this year that this would need to be my year of being bold, and for me this was bold.

I parked my car and it felt very weird and peaceful all at the same time. I looked around and breathed, and casually but not so casually walked in the drive, seeing the all-familiar snow and mud that thankfully wasn't too messy yet. The stream and frog pond, wow how tiny it all looked to me now, where we used to squish our feet in the mud, catch frogs, put fish and baby turtles into...you name it. And the driveway didn't seem so long as it used to, where we practiced our biking skills, dog-training, read the mail, etc. And there was the cabin-like house, not changed much from the way we made it, yet perhaps solar panels and an updated generator system. It was emotional, but I was okay. I knew I needed to go as close to Maxine's grave as I could. The evening sun was streaming across the ridge and through the woods just like I'd remembered so well. It's an intense wild beauty that I used to stand in and just soak up, and here I was as an adult and needing that again. So I stood, at the edge of the garden for awhile, just soaking in the peace of it all. I was so thankful and this filled me in a way I can't describe. And then I heard it: snorting. And I knew it but could hardly believe it: there were no cows but horses grazing on my old land! Horses, three big ones very majestic and strong, and then a wee miniature pony. Wow, wow! I dared myself to walk further near their fence and saw another thing: our old favorite maple tree was cut down, which is where my Maxine was buried at its base. I stared at the spot of the big maple's base where my brothers and Nana had put her in the ground for me after I'd put her to sleep with the Vet. I let myself tear-up as I remembered her, and all the memories we'd had. And I thanked God for the horses as I'd always dreamed of that while growing up. Here they were exactly where I thought horses should be! I asked God to bless the current owners there with the life they have, and then spoke briefly to a young girl who came out with her uncle. They were pleasant and I told them that I used to live there. I could have told them much more, but I was humble and moved and words escaped me. And just as I had walked in, I walked out and was just fine emotionally. I needed this, I knew. Sometimes we have to chase the dreams of the night, if they make any sense at all.
                                                       
           







Thursday, June 30, 2016

Business: Don't Let the Water get Stagnant - tips for the learning organization


We are an output society. Education has taught us this. From the time we started college, for instance, we push out assignments. One after another, just to get it done, whether we truly understand what we're doing or not. A common phrase in the scholastic world is, "I'm good at BSing."

So we morph into a society that's more about the doing than about the understanding. And so do our organizations. At some point many of us shut our brains down and are no longer learning new things, but rather going off of what we already know.

Therefore the question lies, how do we mix up the stagnant water? How do we keep moving and culture learning organizations? I came up with a few tips that any one of us can either initiate or start practicing, in order to help keep our schools and work places moving in a healthy direction.

Tip 101:
Be question-friendly. Show that you can both be asked a question and can answer one for someone too. This is huge. Many people either in school or in the  workplace get stumped on something with a simple solution all because they are afraid to ask a question. We're afraid to appear dumb in a smarter and smarter world. So laugh a little about your mistakes, and in the process say what you've learned. This will help a shy person feel that you are approachable and they may come and ask you a question.  Maybe there's even some things you've thought you should ask your boss recently, but then you told yourself,"No, I'll just figure it out." Well, why not go ahead and ask?

Tip 102:
Out with the old, in with the new. Talking about what's new, trying out new fads, new technologies, and new health options can really help make the workplace more exciting. When a work culture is too sedentary, it does not encourage learning and change within the organization. But showing a coworker how you utilize your android phone for organizing and planning, sharing how your new version of software has really improved your job, or how your new desk chair has really improved your back posture, can help your organization overall to stay up to date.

Tip 103:
Read books related to what you do. One can always improve and learn more.Have some fun with this and don't treat it like a college textbook that you want to avoid. There are many good, creative books out there with tips for a healthy workplace, and you are a big part of what gives your organization its own culture.

Tip 104:
Inspiration is key. This is a co-partner with things such as a creativity, innovation, invention, etc, so do what it takes to stay inspired. Maybe it's certain people in your life that inspire you, a nature photography hobby you do on the side, or traveling to a place you've never been. Whatever it is, take some time between your work and personal life to stay inspired.

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

A Letter to the Lost Heart




 To the many people I love and listen to, who are all changing seasons, it's okay...

We all have seasons, beginnings and endings. We are brave and we are weak. We conquer one big section of life and do our duties, only to find it come to a surprising halt eventually. We weren't ready and we never figured it all out. We either end up feeling like we did our job well or we feel like a failure.

Therefore I have this ebbing question: where does the heart go? It always goes somewhere, but where? If we feel like a failure, I think this is along the lines of turning out the lamps of our hearts. We no longer do as much, nor let ourselves feel as much, and especially don't let another reach in and turn on even one light. Some people that feel like a failure are those who've had a major family crisis (or maybe several) and they feel that their effort in the crisis was utterly useless. Loved ones left their trust and never came back. Other people just simply cannot continue the role they have always performed, simply because it is no longer needed.

When some of our life roles end, what we really end up having to face is ourselves. Whether this is someone who is no longer working a certain job that utilized all their key skills, a loving girlfriend or boyfriend who's partner just dumped them, a parent who's kids have all left the nest, someone who's spouse has divorced them or died, or even a big sister or brother who's siblings never come to them for advice like they used to. I think in these situations, what the heart does first is grieve. Maybe even feel lost, and that's okay.

Just don't stay there. Realize that you still have purpose, it just might be a new purpose now. Reach deep and let the Maker of your heart show you your true identity. I am writing from places of my own lostness and have compassion on yours. Our identity is to be a Found people, and this helps us to not be lost after our season's ending.






Friday, August 28, 2015

Like Green Cliffs and Deep Woods




I'm a senior now. Have been for a little while actually. Now that I've made it this far and am still going in spite of the many hurdles thrown in along the way, it is pretty incredible. And the timing is perfect, because now I have the itch to go. I want to go far away from here, is that crazy? I try to make sense of what I'm feeling, but I can't totally.

When I returned from Ireland this past winter, it was one of the hardest adjustments imaginable for me. I had experienced The Big and had come back to The Small. All my friends were so very lovingly welcoming me back, which was very helpful, but when they asked,"Does it feel good to be back?", I couldn't give them the answer they expected to hear. It didn't feel good, not in the least bit. I missed my friends from oversees with all my heart since our time had been so short, all the while trying to find my place here again.


The winter, as usual, was heavy and cold here. Many days it was difficult to find the beauty around me. Not that snow isn't beautiful; it definitely is. But it was a cold one, and so much colder than what I'd experienced overseas.

I fell in love with my little college town again, especially with the onset of Spring. Since I'd been away for so long and came back to all-things-covered, everything looked like a new wonder when the snow melted. The ice melted off the canal and all of a sudden there was colorful water and a fabulous walking/biking trail beside it. I started to enjoy the outdoors daily.

It took a couple months to get in groove again and to reconnect with friends here, but by the end of the semester many were graduating. I had to say goodbyes yet again. And since I was staying in the local area for the summer, I wasn't sure who I'd get to stay connected with. These are the joys of living in a college town.

I also entered summer with stress from my living circumstances, and stress from trying to figure out if I could secure an after-graduation job. I started looking into jobs, even applying for some local ones because I wanted a good summer internship or a job where I could use my degree skills. After some time with no hopeful prospects, and the stress from that driving me crazy enough, I decided to stop worrying so much. I was planning on taking classes during the second part of summer anyway, and really needed to just enjoy the time I had in the first two months of summer. So I planted a tiny garden, and helped friends out with projects. I went on adventure trips  around the local area. I never realized just how many cool waterfalls there are in the backwoods of the U.P. And taking weekend day-trips in my local area reminded me of those wonderful day trips from back in Ireland.

This is the time in life when I try to find my place in this big world(which really isn't all that big now that we can fly everywhere). After going abroad I've really considered applying for work outside the U.S., say starting with an internship or program. But after much thought, if I live overseas again I've decided it needs to be for a year or a couple at least.This is because the going, adjustment, leaving, and then readjustment, are otherwise too hard on me. Being that I'm currently single, I have many open choices before me. Whether I ended up staking it out in a foreign land or starting a life for my single self here in the Midwest/North, each has pros and cons. But deep down I know God is guiding my steps. What I do know is that I want to work hard and happily, and use my degree. I love what I study and so even though college has been difficult, I may go for my Masters too.

On a phone call recently with my sister, I marveled how God's timing is really so much better than mine, because he intimately knows me better than I know myself. He cares for all of us, better than we can care. In the beginning of summer, as I said, I was desperate to figure out work stuff. But I didn't. I didn't get the marketing internship that I wanted. But here near the end of my academic summer, I applied for another local internship. And guess what, I nailed it. I'll have to fit it in with finishing college full-time and doing my work-study job too. And I may be crazy; I don't know how it will go. But the adventure and posing challenge excites me. I say bring it.

~Oh and P.S., I'm actually going back to Ireland, to visit, for realz.








Wednesday, December 10, 2014

To Belfast and Beyond...


Friday the 5th, I met up with Lexi in the morning and we took off straight-shot down Western Road for hot chocolate at O'Connell's to study Strategic Management. We looked over each other's notes on corporate vs. business strategy, the core competencies, industry analysis, Porter's Five Forces, etc. The chocolate was creamy and beautiful and the time spent was productive enough. Even though I had an exam coming up, I was excited for the weekend. "So you're going to Northern Ireland this weekend?" "Yes...! I can't actually believe it. Thought I wouldn't be able to go and well, now I'm able to!"

Friday evening, after a long and laughter-filled skype with my sister Bekah, I headed out of my apartment with my bags. Meeting up with James and Melissa, it was a good-length walk to the cars. The three of us are a unique poshi of friends in that we have a common love for the poetry of nature, and speak to each other in such terms. We go crazy over a bright moon, the rivers and sea, and enjoy adventuring, speaking in quotes and poetic thought. And so as naturally as ever, we were laughing about trolls and lepricons of the stream beds before we even got into the car  for the 4+ hour trip to Belfast. Being so used to taking the bus everywhere is Ireland, it was the best feeling to be on a road trip in a cute UK-style car.

Crossing the border into the North was not nearly as epic as I'd thought it would be, as I didn't have to show anyone a passport as I thought I might. It was just mostly the songs on the radio that I noticed such as"you're so fancaaay." We arrived at the parents' home of our adventure leader, PG. They were the kindest couple and had beds all set up for us. I slept surprisingly well and woke up feeling so blessed to be in a Belfast home, with sunrise coming in over the garden.

After breakfast Saturday morning, a few from Dublin joined our adventure party, as well as a newly-wed Northern couple with those distinct accents I love. They say "jest a wee bet" in a rise and fall pattern of speech. We had a three-car party and I rode with the newly-weds up the North Coast. They were very fun and I had some great conversation with them. The Mr. drove fast and I soon felt the familiar stomach churn from the Island's typical roads. After some time he switched driving with his wife and kindly offered me the front seat, which actually helped. We soon turned onto a road that took us up the side of a large Glen, which is a valley that lies even with the sea coast, but with high headlands on its sides. There were country homes here in the Glen and at one of my favorite there were a few large geese puddling around the front. We pulled into a lot and got out to see some waterfalls. The waterfalls of this Glen fall down from high ground and run down the Glen toward the sea. They are the 'gems of the Glen'. We grabbed some coffees in the lodge at the head of this Glen, and I loved the decor of the ceiling. There were old artifacts of all types: lamps, kettles, saws, hanging everywhere.

We headed back for the drive along the coast and made a few stops along it. Of this I was very much appreciative, as I needed bits of fresh air repeatedly. And fresh it was indeed, the sea air off the North Sea gusting around my face. The views were divine:

Our traveling clan reached the town of Ballycastle around lunchtime, and picked up deli sandwiches at a store there, then ate them in the park near the boat docks. Paying for my things in pounds was a bit of a challenge, and I first when paying I'd say, "Well, I've got these coins; what do you need?" This was quite unprofessional so soon I asked British James to identify the coins for me so I knew what I was doing. After our sandwiches we got some of the best ice cream ever, even though it was a bit cold out. Back on the road, we made our way to the Causeway. I had presupposed imaginations of the Causeway, but when I got there it was a bit different than I had thought. Therefore it was a pleasant surprise, and a cold one too. We entered the area on top of a hill, and took the path down to the peculiar rock formations. I hadn't realized that there'd be so many of these weird hexagon rocks; I'd never seen anything so perfectly formed by nature: the affects of an artistic Designer. It took years, yes, but it was deliberate.


Our traveling clan meandered around the Causeway until it literally was too dark to see anything else. We decided to drive straight-shot back to Belfast to eat dinner at the Christmas market there. I'd heard about Christmas markets before, but had never been to one, so it was a world of wonder to me. It's full of huts and stands selling all sorts of artisan crafts and foods, and has some old-fashioned festival amusements as well. We basically walked in circles around the whole place checking out the different types of food, before finally choosing the specialty burger hut. There was kangaroo burgers, buffalo, wild boar, venison, etc. And since I come from Venison Land, I thought I should be true to my roots and get this type. No joke, it was probably the BEST venison burger I'll ever taste. However, I was inspired by it's flavor and so I hope to imitate it some day, as I love to cook. It was colder in Belfast than it normally is down here in Cork, so standing outside for a couple hours gave me a bone chill. After the Christmas market we went to view the political graffiti of the city, which was very fascinating. One street has the Peace Walls along it, dividing East Belfast from West Belfast. The drivers of our group feared for their cars on where to park in the midst of our stops, because if you're not careful apparently having a southern plate in the North makes you liable to have your tires popped. Yikes. And though I didn't see police cars while up there, I heard that they are extra 'armored' in case of riots. Here in the South the police are called Garda. On the subject of cars however, I should mention that because Northern Ireland is apart of the UK, most of the taxi service use London cabs, which I think look way-cooler than the normal taxi cars. Getting home after a long day had us all exhausted in a good way, and ready for hot tea and showers.

After church and lunch the next day, we finished sight-seeing. We drove around the docks where the Titanic was built and they still have the original Nomadic loading boat there. There are two huge famous cranes here that are used for ship-building, normally called David & Goliath. Next we went into the suburbs for the C.S Lewis tour. P.G's father grew up near where the great author had also grown up, and brought us to the house LittleLea. This is the house with the attic that inspired the wardrobe for the Narnia books. It it currently privately owned so it is by no means a tourist house.

Besides seeing Lewis's boyhood home, we went to a statue in the city that was erected for him. Though not too large, it is the wardrobe, the professor opening it, a chair, the face of a lion,  with a letter and other inscription on the back of the wardrobe. The concrete around the statue has the words inscribed: "Writer - Teacher - Scholar - Christian. Born 1898,  Reborn 1931." On the tour we also stopped at the church where he was baptized. I hadn't ever know all this stuff about this author, but now I was more enthralled than ever. Here I was in the land where Narnia was created!
 The last adventure of out time in Northern Ireland was jogging up to the Parliament building. It was quite the trek as it was a long, paved upward road, but totally worth the exercise. When we were most of the way up, the evening sun broke with brilliance out of the rain clouds.

When we returned back to the house, we packed up our things, and had a tea dinner with light sandwiches on delicate, flowered china plates. Before hopping into the cars we heartily thanked our hosts. Our drive back to the South was filled with laughter, story-telling, light sleeping, deep conversations, snacking, and just plain-tired silliness. Oh, what good times! I love being a traveler.