Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

Today I took some time off from work to catch the Italian fashion exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. It closes Sunday and has been wildly popular, so if I was going to squeeze in this particular bit of culture, it was now or never. The logistics of getting there in the midst of our arctic cold spell and dealing with parking and crowds was a pain in the ass, but the outing was definitely worth it. And although the Italian fashion exhibit was amazing, it turned out to not even be the main attraction. I love clothes, but know almost nothing about designer fashion. Oh, I can converse at length about Target brands, but that's where my fashion expertise ends. So I mostly just wandered around the galleries, trying not to bump into anyone while admiring the pretty dresses. And there were very, very pretty dresses on display. It's hard to imagine a reality where I would ever don such an elaborate dress bedazzled with feathers or jewels or sequins or lace. (It would definite...

I don't think my family had a lot of Christmas traditions, or at least not traditions in the traditional sense. We definitely didn't have any cultural or ethnic traditions beyond the standard basic American practice of having a tree and presents. We also had the standard rural/German/Lutheran tradition of not showing any sentiment or affection, but that was a tradition we upheld year round. My mom wasn't into holiday baking (beyond her famous--or infamous--jello balls) and we were content with whatever cookies and treats her co-workers and students sent home with her.  So it's not any special food or activity or present that I remember most about Christmas, but my mother's love of Christmas music. My most powerful (if not accurate) memories of listening to the Christmas records (yes, actual records!) my mom played were in the dark and sleep-deprived early mornings before school. These songs always filled me with hope, not for peace on earth or Santa, but for Ch...

Tonight when I got to the gym after work, I discovered I hadn't brought my work-out clothes. After about 15 minutes of panic, anger, and indecision (and a frustrated trip to the the club store), I decided I could work out in my sweats, my regular (black) bra and a slightly see-through lacy tank top. I reasoned I wasn't indecent or anything, I just looked like an idiot, and I could live with that. (Luckily, I had brought my tennis shoes and sweatpants). This little drama reminded me of something someone said at church recently, that they were going to be grateful for all the minor irritations of life. This little incident seems the perfect embodiment of this sentiment. Despite all my frustration, it contained many things to be grateful for: that I can afford a gym membership in the first place, that my schedule is flexible enough that I can go to the gym after work, and that even though I had to deal with bra-strap slippage, I'm not well-endowed enough to need a sports bra...

Every superhero has an origin story. Well, Chad and I aren't superheroes (although sometimes I think Chad comes close), and we aren't even a celebrity super couple. But if we were a super couple we would have a pretty awesome name ("Chamy"). So in honor of the recent 25th anniversary of our first date, here is our origin story. (Okay, as Chad pointed out an origin story has to be in the third person but I can't easily write in that perspective). Chad and I met at the beginning of our sophomore year of college at UW-Eau Claire, when he was assigned to train me to cover the Student Senate for the student newspaper. Chad's official title was "Senior Reporter" so I thought he was a senior and was immediately impressed by this worldly older man. Even though Chad wasn't actually a senior classman, he did exude confidence. At the first Student Senate meeting we went to, I was trying to act cool and impress Chad, so I followed his lead and didn't...

I tend to overbook myself. Or maybe that's just a slightly euphemistic way to say I have bad time management skills, and waste way too much time procrastinating on Facebook. Whatever the cause, a clear symptom of my condition is that I'm frequently late and dashing about in a frenzy. Most Sunday mornings I need to leave church as quickly as I possibly can to fit in some time to run errands or do laundry or make up some time at work or attend to whatever domestic or personal emergency I've created during a week of neglecting real life obligations. But not today. As I begin an official (if not necessarily voluntary) break from performances for at least a couple of months, today's to-do list was a lot more realistic than it's been for a while. So I purposefully took some time to hang out and be social at coffee hour after church today, and am amazed by how just taking a little extra time to chat with a few people makes be feel more connected to our community. ...

Argh! It's been several weeks since my last post. I must have the dreaded blogger's block. Actually, I don't feel any less inspired than usual. I may be even over-inspired. I have, what seems at the time, a great shiny thought, but it's quickly replaced by the next sparkly idea, and by the time I'm able to put fingers to keyboard, all the thoughts and ideas are a jumbled mess. I'm lacking the time and focus to pull some ideas together and put them into words. Now my standards for this blog are obviously not that high...my whole point is just to throw stuff out there and not worry about it too much. But even given that forgiving framework, I still need to form my thoughts into something. And I'm finding the longer I go between the posts, the more daunting this task seems. A friend even asked me about this blog tonight. Not in a "oh my god, I am so desperately waiting for another nugget of your wisdom when will you post next?!" but in a "Hey, ...

I'm learning that I may be more of a fan of anniversaries than the general population, and this year is a rather big one for anniversaries. On one hand, I think I just appreciate any excuse to celebrate, and being more conscious about the passing of time makes me feel slightly more in control. So gentle readers, be advised that this may be the first of many (more) posts about anniversaries and milestone in the life of Amy.  One of this year's big anniversaries is the 15th anniversary of my employment as a public librarian with "my" current library system. (According to Hallmark, traditional presents for this anniversary are crystal or watches). Oh my thoughts about being a librarian are myriad and complicated, and (I have realized through hard life lessons) any blog post about such needs to be scrupulously screened by my inner voice of reason (and most importantly, Chad). Let me start with all the stereotypes about librarians...I know every practitioner of every ca...

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I keep and what I do with it, and what I try to let go of. Not only did I have to do this recently with my work possessions (please see previous post for all the exciting details) but it's a central theme of the one-act "Bird Icon" that Chad and I are in the midst of re-booting. (Marketing alert: you can still come see this show this weekend in Cottage Grove and Forest Lake: http://minnesotaplaylist.com/performance/audience/daddy-issues-library-edition )  Claire pondering keep or toss in "Bird Icon" The play opens with my character, Claire, going through her recently deceased father's things and deciding what to keep or toss. Claire is much more on the ball about such matters than I am. My mom died fourteen years ago today, and I finally took some time this afternoon to go through a stockpile of her jewelry, thoughtfully saved for me by sister, Jenn. Although I didn't specifically remember or recog...

"After changes upon changes we are more or less the same." -- The Boxer by Paul Simon That lyric has stayed with me since I first heard it (well) over thirty years ago. I go back and forth on how accurate I think it is, but I've certainly kept one characteristic through all the many changes of my life: my inability to keep a neat and organized space. This is sometimes painfully and sometimes hilariously demonstrated by the disarray, clutter, and plain old mess of any environment I inhabit: my car, my house, and work space, whether it's an office, desk, or locker.  My out-of-control work space was an issue recently when I had to pack up my cube in preparation for new carpet installation. The angst was intensified by a deadline: we had to get our space cleared by 5:00 p.m. on a specified day. Of course I waited to the last day to work on this project because I apparently unconsciously crave self-inflicted drama. My cube, mid-packing. If you look closely you ...

What do you think people will say at your funeral? What do you want them to say? Or would you prefer they forgo words and express themselves through interpretive dance? Today I attended the funeral of a friend's stepdad. I got the impression he was an amazing and multifaceted man who led a long and complex life filled with love and service, and also a fair amount of difficulty. Not for the first time, it made me wish that I had known my dad more fully, not just as my dad, or my mom's nemesis, or as Goodtime Gordie, but as a unique and real person. Of course I wish I had known my mom better, too, but my dad was always more of an enigma.  If I have any advice to give to those whose parents are still living, it's not to love your parents or appreciate them more. Oh sure, if you can do that, that's awesome, but you probably are already loving and appreciating them as much as you can. But are you paying attention? Try to learn about them, and notice them, and see them no...

Yesterday Chad and I scored an unexpected find: we discovered spicy locally made You Betcha Kimchi for sale at the NE Farmer's Market. I'm happy to be on the kimchi bandwagon. In fact, I'm a fan of food trends in general. Even when they are silly and annoying, they often increase our awareness of and access to foods that are new to us. Okay, the trend to put pumpkin flavor in everything may be out of control, but it's also become a rather comforting and familiar sign of fall. As far as I know, no one is selling pumpkin-flavored kimchi. Yet. But last fall I did try some acorn squash with kimchi and it was pretty good, So maybe there is some kimchi and pumpkin combination that will work...ooh that could be the flavor I enter in next year's Lay's potato chip contest ! While I'm happy that the joys of kimchi are now being brought to the world at large, I'm not a kimchi fan because it's trendy. I've been loving it for over twenty years, long bef...

"Do something uncomfortable today. By stepping out of your box, you don't have to settle for what you are--you get to create who you want to become"-- Howard Walstein This quote greeted me on Facebook last Wednesday, posted by my awesome friend Sandy. It's hard to imagine something more appropriate, as I was about to do something that made me uncomfortable in many, many, ways (including a little physical discomfort, squished in the van for a four hour trip):  I was off on a road trip up north, WAY up north, to act in my first murder mystery dinner theater.   Those of you who have known me for a long time probably get what a stretch this was for me, for several reasons: I don't enjoy interactive theater or audience participation, at least not as a member of the audience. When confronted with audience interaction (which only happens if I have misunderstood the nature of the performance) I try to sink in my seat and pray I don't get chosen, without sinking...

Chad and I have lived in our house in NE Minneapolis for fifteen years, as of this May. Sadly, I totally spaced this momentous anniversary, and missed the opportunity to commemorate it with a party, or an outing, or even a toast. Oh well, maybe next year we can do something for our "Sweet Sixteen." I know fifteen years isn't necessarily that long in the grand scheme of things, or even homes, but it should be long enough to get to know a neighborhood pretty well. So I'm often surprised when I realize there are still so many things (and by things I usually mean bars) about my little corner of the world that I still don't know.  Today I made a small dent in decreasing my ignorance by doing a bit of exploring on the trails along the Mississippi about two miles from our house. I won't spend too much time trying to write about geography and location and all that jazz. Given my lack of understanding of these things, it would just be frustrating and confusing for al...

When I was a kid, my mom would joke that she would send me to the "fox farm" when I was being too whiny about being sick or injured. Or at least, I think she was joking...since I don't really know what the fox farm was, maybe they just never had an opening? I just always assumed the "fox farm" was like the "glue factory" where old horses were sent. (Remember, this was in the days before Fox News so the "fox farm" was not the facility where plastic-looking Fox Channel news anchors are grown.) I don't know how my mom came up with the fox farm idea, or if anyone before or since has used the term. The google has yielded no answers. But whatever her inspiration, my mom got her point across, with the traditional Colleen Luedtke mixture of humor and fear. I'm afraid I am very close to having to turn myself into the fox farm. A little over a week ago, I somehow pulled a hip/butt muscle and it is doing me in. (I have no idea what this muscle...

Last weekend unexpectedly became the "Weekend of the Lay's Potato Chip Taste-Off." It was actually supposed to be the "Weekend of Snyder Family Camping" but I wimped out and Chad and I ended up sleeping in the comfort of the Snyder Homestead instead of in a tent. (I should clarify, my camping wimpiness was NOT caused by Lay's potato chips). I did rough it enough to use the "The Snyder Family Latrine" a few times, though, so I have a little outdoorsy cred (latrine use also NOT directly related to Lay's chip consumption).   My chip obsession was indirectly sparked by Snyder family bonding. I didn't even know that Lay's was having a new chip flavor contest , until I saw some of the flavors, cappuccino and wasabi ginger, on sale at Target a couple of weeks ago. I was bemused and intrigued, and thought they would be fun to bring along to the upcoming Snyder socializing. I figured they would inspire at least a few amusing conversation snipp...